Dylan's Sophomore Year

DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR

Chapter 53

by Donny Mumford

Tracy looks around the apartment, then asks, "Hey, where do we do the shampoo, or were you just breaking my balls about that?" I'm like, "Follow me," and lead him to my bedroom. He says, "Very neat," meaning the bedroom isn't messy. Robby and I try keeping it neat. I say, "You should see my brother's bedroom, it's looks like a tornado went through it." Then, with me dragging the straight back chair, we continue into the bathroom. The chair is placed facing away from the sink and I reattach the short hose with the spray head to the sink's faucet. "This is where we do the shampoo, Trace. Um, you need to take your shirt off?" He makes a 'face', like he thinks I'm kidding, "Really? Why do I need to do that?" I explain, "Two reasons: your shirt's collar would get wet during the shampoo and I don't have a barber's cape for the haircut, so your shirt would be covered with hair clippings." He shrugs, grinning, "Oh," and then takes his shirt off, saying, "A cape seems like an easy enough thing to buy online," and I go, "Yeah, but than I wouldn't get to see everyone's body." He laughs, "Oh yeah, I see what you mean." Tracy's chest is almost hairless but it's still pretty hot. There's a sprinkling of chest hairs between his pecs, but that's it. Nice definition without being gaudy, although it does appear he works out. "You working out somewhere, Trace?" He nods, "Yeah, I joined Body World and workout two or three

mornings a week." I go, "I'd say that's the perfect amount of workout for you. Nice bod!" He sits in the chair, grinning, "Thanks, Dylan, you too. Hey, I've been meaning to ask you, how'd it feel getting your nipple pierced. I've been trying to work up the guts to get that done myself." As I begin wetting his long hair, I mumble, "I'd say it's probably not as painful as childbirth or getting the head of your dick pierced, but it'd be next in line, pain-wise." He's like, "Painful, huh?" I go, "Yeah, but it only hurts for a couple of months," and he laughs again. "Fuck! I thought you were going to say a couple of minutes."

As I'm spreading shampoo into his hair I'm thinking it's going to be fun cutting this long hair to burr length. I ask, "You're serious about getting a burr haircut, right?" He shrugs, "Yeah, not that I ever thought about a short haircut, not until I started seeing your various short haircuts the last year and a half or so. It got me thinking that short hair looks sexy and ballsy on the right guy. I only hope I have the 'looks' to pull it off as well as you do." I chuckle, "Actually, I'm guessing that a lot more people don't like my haircut than do, and actually I'm not thrilled about it myself. And very few people think it's sexy, if any, except you." He shrugs again, "Fuck 'em then. They're probably confusing me with someone who gives a shit." Like with most guys, as I massage Tracy's scalp and shampoo his hair, he stops talking and relaxes with his eyes lightly closed. He's a handsome guy with some 'cute' mixed in with the handsome, and he's got an extremely likable personality too. Tracy definitely doesn't take himself too seriously either, or acts like he's special. A rare combination that works for him, especially in the romance department, but mostly with girls. I'm pretty sure though that there are few gay men who wouldn't be hyper interested if they felt they had a chance with Tracy. As for me, I never would have guessed he's bisexual in the first place, and I'm flattered he's attracted to me. I'm also a bit puzzled by it as well. After saying that, I need to admit to myself I'm sometime puzzled why I'm so attracted to some guys and not others; Ryan, for example. I wonder what it is exactly that I find so sexy and attractive about him? I mean considering no one else he's met in his life appears to have felt the same attraction for him that I have. If I can believe him, he's never even had a close friend before me. I'm either missing something really important about Ryan, or all those guys he's known before me are missing what I'm seeing. Although when I consider all the people who get married it's like everyone is attracted to a person that no one else thought special enough to marry. Do we all convince ourselves somehow that we're attracted to a specific someone as some sort of a self fulfilling prophecy?

As for Robby and me, we seemed to be mutually attracted to each other from the very start, beginning with those sexy massages in the locker room we gave each other that first summer. And then that first kiss. After three years, more or less with Robby, I no longer even question our love, or why I'm in love with him. It's a true love I feel in my whole being. We've got a connection that runs deep and it seems to run deeper the longer we're together. My recent increased feeling for Ryan doesn't seem to fit the scenario I just described for Robby and me, but it's a new development and I haven't figured it out yet. As for Robby, he often gives me that special 'look', the one like he's thrilled to see me. Chubby always has shown me a special smile when he sees me. Huh, I just he doesn't always show it like Chubby does. That's probably because Robby and me have little disagreements about things from time to time, sometimes about side-sex partners, whereas Chubby never has a disagreement with me about anything. He loves me unconditionally and I think he's the only one who does. That's alright though because he's the only person I love unconditionally too. I get disappointed in Robby at times, but still love him through my disappointment. Ha, life can be a confusing bitch at times, can't it? I can't figure life out and I wonder if anybody truly can. Some might fool themselves into thinking they have it figured out, some egomaniacal person maybe, but I don't think they have. I mean, how do we really know exactly why we love someone, or why we do the things we do. It always comes back to the subconscious mind. It rules no matter what we think consciously. Everyone's subconscious mind is different too because no two people have ever had the exact same experiences, the exact same minute to minute inputs to their brain from the second they're born and continuing their whole life. And to that I say, so what?! Diversity's a good thing.

Truth is we can only make the best of what we have to work with, and so much of our lives are out of our control in the form mostly of happenstance anyway. We're products of our environment that includes the parents we're born to, who we meet and are influenced by, and what we experience as we live our lives. Some of us do more with what we've got than others, but we're all limited to a degree by what we've got. I for one wish I was born with a better brain, and while I'm at it I wish I was taller too.. ha ha. Money of course is another piece of the equation, but maybe not as important as some seem to think it is. Hell, being born rich hasn't helped Willie Worthington much. Not as far as him being happy with himself and his life. It doesn't appear to have helped his parents either for that matter. Not from what I know of them anyway. And how about sons of oil rich dictators and the like who live destructive lives of self indulgence. Oh, here's a question I just thought of: why the fuck am I going on about this shit? It's gotta be my idiotic stream of consciousness mind that began with me being puzzled about Tracy seemingly being attracted to me? Attracted to me to the degree he even wants to rock the odd haircut I've got. Huh! I don't know the answers to most questions I ask myself, including the ones about Tracy and Ryan.

Looking at the side of Tracy's face and then his hot body I gotta wonder why I care what the reasons are he's attracted to me? I'm just glad he is! For one thing it's good for my self-image that someone as cool as Tracy singled me out from all the college students visiting his speakeasy to be his friend and sex-buddy. Yeah, that's true, but I also need to stop thinking about all this stuff and start concentrating on what I'm doing. I begin rinsing the shampoo out of Tracy's hair. Then, because of it's length and thickness it takes a concerted effort getting his hair partially dry with a towel, bumps his head around a little and brings Tracy out of his apparently pleasant trance. I grin as he blinks his eyes, saying, "Jesus! That was an awesomely pleasurable experience, Dylan. I'll return the favor when I give you that bath sometime." I chuckle, "Don't kid yourself, I want that fuckin' bath. How big's the tub?" He says, "Big enough for both of us. Big enough to drown in." I mutter, "That big, huh?" and turn the hair dryer on. Combing through his hair speeds the process of drying his long hair and now I see some highlights in his brown hair I hadn't noticed before. Nice hair actually and he's lucky to have it, although I'd bet anything he takes it for granted. Only guys with premature baldness realize the importance of a nice head of hair. I ask again, "You sure you want me to cut all this awesome hair off, Trace?" He goes, "That's the second time you've asked me that, Dylan. Is there something you're not telling me?" I go, "No, I already told you most people don't like burr haircuts, but aside from that you have a great head of hair which is kinda mandatory for really short haircuts to look their best. You've got a good hairline across your forehead, no cowlicks, and your hair is dense so your scalp won't show through no matter how short it is." He says, "Then I want to see myself in that haircut that you're rockin'. At least once in my life anyway." I say, "You got it, dude. My pleasure," then, "Oops, wait," and I comb his hair on the side of his head off his ear, and say, "Whew! You have nice looking ears too. Some guys have Dumbo ears which can be cute depending how youthful and cute the guy is, but big ears can also look kinda funny with super short haircuts. No worries for you though, your ears are quite nice." He laughs, "Hey, my ears showed with the ponytail." I mumble, "I'm busting your balls, dude, that's all."

When his hair's so clean and dry it's full of static electricity, I pat his shoulder, "We're ready for the haircut." He follows me out of the bathroom carrying his shirt in one hand and running the fingers of his other hand through his long hair, maybe saying goodbye to it. Pulling one of the stools at the kitchen bar to the center of the tiled area, I pat it and say, "My modern barber's chair." Tracy sits on the stool grinning while I'm turning on the radio for some background sounds. I take the barber tools out, thinking, 'FUN!' Cutting hair is fun and 'Fun' is the rock group singing on the radio too. It'll be scissors and comb first, telling Tracy, "I'll cut a lot of the long hair off with scissors and then you'll hear something you probably aren't familiar with. It's called electric barber's clippers." He says, "You think you're joking, but I can't remember the last real haircut I got in a barbershop." I go, "Well your record's intact because this isn't a barbershop." He says, "It's close enough. Let me see those things," as he points at the clippers. I hand him the Oster 76, saying, "This is a professional heavy-duty barber clipper. It could cut through all your hair whether I took the bulk off first with scissors or not. The smaller one is the trimmer clipper that acts like a razor to outline your hairline. In this case your ears and down behind your ears to give the professional appearance. If you were getting a buzz cut sometimes the barber will outline across your forehead's and down to your sideburns. It creates a temporary new hairline some guys think is stylish. I've had it done a few times myself and it's pretty cool."

He's turning the clippers over and feeling the blade. "It doesn't feel very sharp." I tell him the edges of the short teeth are very sharp, but I couldn't cut him with the clippers unless I tried to." He asks, "Could you just use this clipper for the whole haircut. I think that'd be a cool experience." I say, "No. I mean I could, but I don't want to because it'd go too fast and wouldn't be as much fun for me." He's like, "Cutting hair is fun?" I go, "Yep!" and comb his hair forward so it's completely covering his face, the ends of his hair extend an inch below his chin. With the scissors I cut the hairs down to one inch bangs across his forehead, "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch," go the scissors cutting through the clean dry hair. Tons of hair falls into his lap and he goes, "Holy shit!" It's a pile of ten inch long hairs and he picks up a handful. Holding it up and looking at me, he mumbles, "I changed my mind," and we both laugh. I say, "This is a very different look for you already," and pass him the handheld mirror. He laughs, "Oh fuck, I look like the guy in that old, 'Dumb and Dumber' movie." Not really, but that's a funny flick. Tracy reaches up and feels his short bangs running his fingers through them, muttering, "Feels funny." I comb up a lot of hair on the side of his head and close the scissors along the comb, "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch," and his ear appears. All around his head I comb up a lot of hair and, "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch," until most of the hair left on his head is an inch to two inches long. I ruffle his fair, mumbling, "Now the clippers, Trace." His fingers are all over his head with him grinning, saying, "I've made a huge mistake."

When he's done fucking around, I say, "You've got options at this point, Tracy. There are a number of ways I could go from here. Do you wanna hear them?" He says, "Nope, no thanks, Dylan. I still want to do the burr thingie like yours." Okay, I'm convinced he's serious so I put a eight inch guide on the clippers and run them most of the way up the sides and back of his head sending untold thousands of long hairs to his shoulders, back, and lap. It's so fucking cool watch the hair fall away from the clippers! Taking the eight of an inch guide off, I start using a clippers over comb method for the rest of the haircut. It takes maybe ten minutes to basically duplicate the latest haircut Ryan gave me, which he did a little over three weeks ago now. When I'm satisfied all the hairs are perfectly blended, I use the trimmers around and behind his ears, taper the neckline a little, and when satisfied pass him the handheld mirror again. He looks at his haircut and runs his fingers over his head, then says, "It's just like yours alright, or the way yours looked a month ago." Actually I think it's better than mine, but I'm not gonna take offense he thinks it's the same. He wouldn't understand the subtle differences anyway. I ask, "Well, what do you think?" He shrugs, "Don't matter much what I think now, but I hardly recognize myself and my head feels funny. I feel lighter." It's such a drastic change anyone would be a little shocked at first. I'm like, "I don't get the feeling you exactly love this new look," and he says, "It's what I wanted, and now that I see what I look like with it, I gotta say you pull it off better than me." I go, "It looks okay, Trace, but you do look a couple years younger. Plus, with a radical change like this it takes some getting used to by you and anyone who knows you." He mutters, "I feel scalped," as we start brushing cut hairs off him, and that takes some doing. After that I sweep up the hair as he stares at himself in the big mirror on the wall over the sofa.

As I'm dumping the hair in the trash I realize I didn't get sexually aroused during that haircut. Not like I expected I might and not like I get when Ryan's giving me a haircut. That's a little disappointing, but I didn't even think about it while I was cutting his hair. Mostly I was concentrating on getting it right. I walk over and stand beside him looking at our ref lection in the mirror, "Bobbsey Twins, Trace." He says, "Your hair is furry and mine is prickly." I go, "Yours will be stiff and prickly for about a week. By then it's grown back a bit and the ends get tapered to be fuzzy like mine." He runs his hand over his head, "It feels good though, and I'm starting to get used to it already. Yeah, I like it. Hey, do I look like a cute badass?" I say, "Checkout cute badass online and they'll be a picture of you with this haircut." He laughs, "I checked it out already and there was a picture of you." I say, "Is that fuckin' picture still online? I need a smoke," and we head for the balcony with Tracy saying, "I smoked some in high school, but gave it up." Outside I ask, "Do you mind if I smoke?" He shakes his head, "No, I liked smoking actually, but I've heard a rumor about heart disease and cancer being somehow associated with cigarette smoking." I go, "You're shitting me." He laughs and rubs his head again making me a little jealous because he used to rub mine. Ah yes, an unexpected consequence of giving Tracy his own burr haircut to rub.

We talk about his haircut as I smoke and Tracy continues feeling his bristly hair. He says, "What a weird sensation seeing my hair coming away from my head in bunches. Those clippers don't mess around. First those sharp scissors and all that fucking long hair falling away. And then you run the clippers along the comb and all this hair lands on me, jeez what an experience! Ya know what though? You giving me that haircut was almost a sexual experience, or am I crazy?" I shrug, "I don't know, but for most guys getting a haircut isn't sexy at all, although I agree with you that in a way it is. I've always thought it was sexy and kinda intimate." He says, "Yeah, it is, but maybe that's just because you and me kinda have the hots for each other." I go, "Yeah, that might have something to do with it." Truth is though I think it's sexy even when I don't have the hots for the guy I'm giving a haircut to. Like Dawg that time. Plus I've gotten all hot and bothered a few times when Willie was dominantly making me get very short haircuts. I certainly didn't have the hots for those old barbers who were cutting my hair. No, it was the submissiveness of sitting there while the barber and Willie discussed how short my hair should be... that's what got me sexually aroused. And how fuckin' weird is that?! I'm not going to try explaining that to Tracy though.

He does look like a different person and I'm thinking, oh fuck, he was sexier with the ponytail, or maybe I think that because Robby and Ryan have ponytails now. Tracy looks vulnerable somehow or maybe he just feels a little lost temporarily because of this drastic change in appearance. I ask, "You've never had a buzz cut, even as a little kid?" He shakes his head, "Never! My father's has had the same longish hair style all my his life and he probably had the same style years before I was born. Both my brothers and me went with long hair until just now. Hey, come to dinner with my uncle and me this weekend so I can show him my new 'look'." I shrug, "I gotta check with my boyfriend to see what our plans are for this weekend." As I drop my cigarette butt on the floor and step on it, then kick it off the balcony, he asks, "You need to get permission? What the fuck's that all about?" I go, "Oh come on! When you were going steady with that girl, are you telling me you didn't check with her to see what plans she might have before committing to something on the weekends?" He's like, "Yeah, I guess I see what you mean. Of course I sorta set our agenda, not her. How long have you been going with this guy? Rob, right?" I tell him, "Yeah, it's Rob. We've been together for three years now," and he goes, "You're kidding, right?" I shake my head, "No, we're in love, dude." He looks confused, "You're in love, but yet you screw around with other guys too. Really?" I say, "Yes, but you make it sound like I'm being unfaithful or slutty. I don't fuck around with just

anybody ya know, and Robby and me have this mature understanding. Our relationship allows us both to mess around on the side as long as it's within reason." He laughs, "Whatever works for you I guess, but that sounds, um, a little fucked up." I'm like, "To you it might, but it works for us pretty well." He says, "Dude, I didn't know you and your boyfriend were together three years. I figured it was more casual than that. Ha ha, I actually had this idea that I had a chance to be your boyfriend. Guess I gave myself too much credit."

Leaving that time bomb alone, I go, "Um, you're bisexual I know, but I thought you leaned towards the girls mostly and I'm just a fling you're having on the rebound after breaking up with what's-her-name." He rubs his head, "I thought you'd be a hot sexy change of pace, yes. As it turns out though I've developed a big crush on you. I told you I've screwed with only two other guys and let me tell ya, they can't compare with you. I wasn't expecting to get smitten by you, so to speak." I grin, "You're smitten by me? What's that mean?" He shrugs, "It's a crush or infatuation with some one, in this case you," and he grins at me, adding, "I think that's what it means anyway." I smile at him, "Oh yeah? I mentioned to you very recently that we're not going to let ourselves get involved, right? I wouldn't want you to think I'm leading you on." He goes, "Yeah, you told me that, but I didn't want to believe it. I usually have some luck with winning and getting my way in romantic situations." I'm still curious about his reaction to Robby and I having side-sex, I mean didn't he ever mess around on his girlfriend? Curious as I am, I probably shouldn't ask this, although I do, "Did you cheat on your girlfriend?" He laughs, "That would be yes, so who am I to tell you your relationship is fucked up? You're right. Okay, I get the picture, but I wanna be one of the guys you mess around with, um, on the side?" I say, "Who

better than you, Trace. You do know I'm flattered, right? I don't take it lightly 'cause I really like you." He chuckles, "You're sweet, Dylan, but I

still think you should wear a warning label like they put on some medicines. Maybe not on a necklace like I told you before, maybe a cool tattoo that reads, Warning! I'm very addictive! Something like that." I ask, "Are you making fun of me?" and he says, "Nope, I'm making fun of myself for having a teeny-bopper's crush on you." Chuckling, I go, "I'm getting a big head listening to you." He gives my shoulders a hug, saying, "I haven't given up the battle. Maybe I'll shower you with expensive gifts and that will turn the tide my way." I say, "Please do not do that or you'll make me feel like a slutty whore instead of a buddy who likes having sex with you." He goes, "Can I fuck you right here?" I'm like, "Here? I don't think so, but someplace

else, yeah, for sure."

He rubs my head this time, and then picks up my hand and puts it on his head, as he mumbles, "Bobbsey Twins, right, Dylan?" I rub his short hair, "It feels cool, Trace," and he says, "I think so too." I can't be sure when Chubby or Robby might bop in our apartment, so I suggest, "How about we visit your place for a beer and see what comes after that?" A hug around the back of my neck by Tracy as he walks us outside the apartment. I lock the door as he's saying, "My place is an excellent idea! We'll use my isolated apartment and avoid unexpected embarrassing encounters with your roommates." We're carry our jackets, then put them on going down the steps to the parking lot with me thinking it's good we had this talk about where we stand, although I'm not sure Tracy got the message completely. I'm serious about not leading him on, but maybe that's what he thinks I'm doing by continuing to have sex with him. Some guys just can't grasp the concept of buddy-sex. It's not something I invented, fer chrissakes. Robby's and my relationship isn't the first open relationship in the world, and some people have an open relationship even after they're married. Of course it could be me rationalizing all this, but I like Tracy even though I don't feel I would ever fall in love with him. I can't articulate even to myself why that is, but it's why this side-sex with him is basically only harmless sexy fun to me. After saying that, if I didn't have Ryan and Robby in my life, would I then talk myself into being in love with Tracy? You know, because I wanted a relationship and he'd be a excellent candidate to be in a relationship with. Could I rationalize falling in love with him? I guess I could if I had no other love in my life to compare it to. I'd maybe think, Well this must be what love is, even if it wasn't true love like I've found with Robby. I gotta stop this kind of thinking though because it just adds to the confusion I already have about life in general.

Tracy drives too fast with me seat-belted in, and sort of holding on for dear life. If Ryan and Tracy could combine their chosen driving speeds and cut it in half it'd be just right. We go up the steps to his covered deck as Tracy says, "Instead of a beer, how about a shot of good whiskey first." The speakeasy is closed on weekdays, but sometimes opens during the day on weekends. There's no fixed schedule so it's best to call ahead. I ask, "What is it with you and shots, Trace? I can't stand shots of booze." He laughs, "That's half my fun watching you drinking a shot in three or four sips. You just drag out your torture. Try throwing the whole thing down your throat all at once." We go into his apartment with me saying, "I know that's how it's suppose to be done, but I'm always afraid I'll hurl." In his kitchen he takes a cool-looking bottle off a shelf that has a number of different whiskey bottles on it, saying, "Lets see what you think of this Canadian Club Classic 12. Aged twelve years and it's very smooth." Grabbing two clean shot glasses from a line of them sitting upside down on a lower shelf, Tracy pours two shots of his latest so-called smooth whiskey. Picking up our shot glasses, Tracy taps mine with his, saying, "To my new haircut," and he flashes his down his throat. I hesitate a second and then do the same. My throat has a slight burn, but my eyes aren't tearing-up and I don't think I'm going to throw-up, but I can't say it was especially pleasant either. I take a deep breath testing my condition, then say, "That wasn't so bad, Trace, but please don't pour another one for me."

He grins at me and pours himself another one, then drinks it like he did the first. "You don't think that's a damn good whiskey, Dylan?" I say, "The best endorsement I can give it is, it isn't hideous." He laughs and gives me a hug, then he rubs his face where my neck meets my right shoulder, some call this spot 'the crook of the neck, saying, "You smell so good," then he gives me a kiss on my lips, and adds, "We're alone in my apartment, Dylan, and you make me horny, so can we do it?" I nod, "Sure, Tracy, I'd like that." He says, "Lets take our shirts off so I can feel your skin against mine. And, forgive me, but I've gotta do our fast fuck first, and then I promise later today we can get in my bed naked and do it slow and sexy any way you wanna do it. Okay?" I wet my lips, "I'm kinda horny myself, and your plans for later this afternoon sound quite appealing to someone like me, you know, someone like me who enjoys sex as much as you do." We both take our shirts off as I'm telling him, "I'm horny like I said, and I'm not blowing smoke up your ass when I say, you fuck good, Tracy." With him holding my face between his hands he leans in and kisses me wetly with lots of tongue, his head moving and our noses rubbing together as my arms go around his bare back and our chests rub as we kiss like this for a minute or two. He slides his lips off mine dragging his tongue across my cheek, his curly soft beard tickling my face sexily. With the sides of our faces together and his arms around the back of my neck we both breathe deeply, our expanding chests bumping, then he's back at it again with his tongue sliding on mine and then moving in my mouth as our lips suck together.

We make out sexily for two or three minutes more and now his sexy scent has filled my head. Then we gasp together, my boner achingly hard. Tracy reaches between my legs squeezing it, then unbuttons my pants and pull them down to my knees. He's smirking at me as he strokes my hard cock until a long blob of precum drools out and I moan clinging to him and humping my hips. He licks my ear, then sticks his tongue in it and strokes my cock a few more times with more precum drooling down his fist and me moaning, "Oooh, uum, ooh, fuck me, Trace, fuck me." He kisses my cheek and turns me around as he's undoing his zipper. His left arm's around my chest holding my back against his chest and I immediately feel the wet head of his cock on my butt cheek moving as he rustles in his pocket looking for a condom. His cock leaves a trail of his precum as he seems to get frustrated he can't find the pocket with the condom, then the bare head of his cock is at my asshole. Tracy groans and humps the wet head in past my sphincter muscle as we both moan, "Aaaaah, oooh, fuccck." Lots of Tracy's moist breath on the back of my head with him breathing raggedly and his cock slowly and tightly spreads the walls of my rectum as it goes in inch by inch. I want to bend over because it goes in easier that way, but he's got both arms around me slowly moving his hips closer and closer to my ass with his hard cock making it's way up inside me. I gasp again and grimace at the pain, then moan at how good it feels at the same time. Tracy's head moves next to mine and he whispers in my ear, "I'm sorry if it's hurting a little, and I'm inside you without a condom. I couldn't find my condom and I don't have lubricant, so is it okay for me to continue?." I knew my idea of carry a tube of lube around with me was a good one. I nod my head slightly, hoping he knows I mean everything's okay, it feels good with the pain.

Slowly his boner goes up my ass until his pubic hairs are tickling my buttocks and then he's pressed against me, my back tight against his chest and my ass filled to overflowing with his hard cock. "Aaaah," from Tracy, "Such a sweet ass, Dylan. This is magical, oh and thank you for the haircut." That makes me laugh a little at the inappropriate time he chose to say that. I chuckle, saying, "You're welcome," and he laughs a bit, mumbling, "I can be such a dork at times," and he humps against my butt cheeks and swivels his hips a little as I go, "Aaaah, fuuuck, yeah." He kisses the side of my head and begins pulling his boner back out slowly setting off awesome vibrations inside me, all of them of a pleasurable nature. My prostate buzzes a little and my cock tightens further. Tracy's considerately taking it slow at first, pushing his cock up my ass this second time too, waiting until the hurt fades. I moan quietly at how wonderful it feels having my rectum filled with Tracy's good sized hard cock. He withdraws it a little more quickly this time and pushes it back in at the same speed and we both shudder a little while making a whooshing sound drawing in air through closed lips. Tracy adjust his hold on me, one arm around the front of my neck like he does and the other around my chest holding me tightly against him. The side of his face is next to my ear when he whispers, "Here we go," and begins moving his hips back and forward smoothly and steadily and the sensations really come to life in my ass now. My anus lips hug the shaft of his steadily moving hard cock and they're sizzling with sexual pleasure as my prostate is a steady drumbeat of pleasure that quickly has me squirming in Tracy's arms, but he's strong and he wants me against him so only his hips move as he's picking up speed. Oh it feels so good as my head goes back on his shoulder and I close my eyes to revel in how incredible it feels being fucked in the ass. His cock is out through his zipper so no slap slap sounds because his jeans muffle that normal sound of male fucking. My grunts and moans of sexual pleasure are the prominent sounds we hear accompanied by Tracy's grunts at the sensations coming off his erect penis.

During the next four or five minutes nothing exist in the universe except this intense sexual pleasure I'm feeling as I'm deliciously struggling and squirming in Tracy's strong arms and against his hot tight body with his sexy scent in my head and his short curly beard rubbing the side of my face. Ecstasy as I shudder and moan at each thrust of his hard cock up my ass, "Aaah, aah, aah, ooh Trace, aah ooh, umm, uum, yeah, ump, ooh." The back of my head moving on his shoulder, the sides of our heads rubbing together, his scent's in my head and it's all I smell with our mutual sweat between my back and his chest and stomach making it seem extra slippery and sexy. Tracy begins making oddly desperate whining sounds as he further increases the speed of his thrusting and I start humping my ass back into his thrust until we're almost out of control slamming into one another moaning and groaning, "Fuuuuk, yeaaah." And then my world stops for an instance as the overwhelming sensation of climax has me shaking with anticipation and than squealing like I do, and I arch my back clenching every muscle in my body, then one last gasping inhale before an involuntary hump of my hips and cum streams out of my boner in a big arc landing on the kitchen table near the shot glasses. I'm shaking and unable to even squeal as I hump out three quick follow up shots of spunk shooting out leaving my quivering boner and me dizzy with pleasure, then limp in Tracy's arms as he pounds his cock up my ass frantically while doing ragged breathing and then a loud, "Oooh, oooh," and I feel his cum flooding my bowels making me shudder again as I stroke my cock. Oh, it feels so good! He keeps pounding his cock in my sloppy ass with the cum drooling out even as he shoots more inside me. Another minute of thrusting with Tracy sort of hanging onto me now, his forehead on my shoulder, him making quiet, "Mmmm, mmm, mmm," sounds until he stops completely. We're still as a statue for a minute or so, me feeling his cum running down the back of my legs.

I'm doing slow deep breathing listening to my heart beat and feeling Tracy's heart beating against my back. A moan, "Ooooooh, god," from Tracy, then some lazy thrust up my ass followed by one last tight hug before he lets go of me and pulls his cock from my ass. He backs up against the kitchen counter as I stare at my cum on the table, then mumble, "Wouldn't it have been awesome if my spunk shot an inch to the left and filled up my shot glass?" Tracy chuckles as I turn around and lean against him, chest to chest, my arms around him and my forehead on his shoulder. He casually rubs my head with one hand and my back with the other, murmuring, "It's so sexually hot fucking you Dylan, I can't even describe how much I love doing it with you." He chuckles, then ask, "What have you done to me?" and he chuckles again, saying, "You've ruined me for girls, that's what. And I'll never find another guy like you, that'd be impossible." All I can do is smile and savor his compliments. Nobody compliments me as much as Tracy. It's probably the same line he tells his girlfriends, but I'll pretend he only says it to me. More murmuring from Tracy, "And I fucked you without a condom this time, and now

it'll never be the same fucking with a condom. You've put some kind of spell on me, some kind of sexy spell," and he gives me a hug then and a long kiss on the side of my head. It's nice. I can't imagine it being better in bed with him later than this was, but that's because right now I'm enjoying the glow of my recent orgasm and feeling sexually satisfied. Who knows how much that will change in two or three hours. Tracy puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes me away a little, quietly saying, "I'll help clean your ass up for you, but first," and he turns me around gently and slides his cock, that's still just firm enough, up my ass as we both go, "Aaaaah." My prostate and anus are incredibly sensitized and his cock's reentry brings all the wonderful sensations back to life. Two minutes of thrusting pleasure with my cock trying to get hard again, but Tracy pulls his cock out too soon, muttering, "Can't get enough of that ass of yours." My shoulders shudder again as I bite my bottom lip concentrating on how awesome it feels having a cock filling my rectum. Tracy says, "Come on Dylan," and with his arm across my shoulders we walk through the kitchen into a half bath, the one used by the guest of his speakeasy for emergency pissing.

Inside he gets a washcloth and wets it, then wipes his cum off the back of my legs and buttocks and under my ass to the back of my scrotum, "Dylan, the shape of your cute pink ass, it's like so fucking hot." I'm feeling really good and I don't want to talk, but I mumble, "Yes, I know, everyone says that," and he laughs a nice laugh as he pats my ass and pulls up my pants. Tracy laughs easily and he's very good company. We're both spaying Windex on the kitchen table now chuckling about how close my spunk landed near in the empty shot glass. When we've cleaned up all the spunk, Tracy says, "That would have been my favorite shot of all time, Dylan. That's if I could beat you to it," and he laughs patting me on the back. I tell him, "Jeez, I've never sampled my own semen," and he grins, mumbling, "Liar." I grin back and we do a quick kiss. Tracy says, "God, to think I could have had all this fun with you if I'd proposition you last year. I would have taken you with me to Paris and London last summer instead of that pain in the ass, Sheila." I listen to his self deprecating remarks and his compliments to me and I confess to enjoying hearing them even though it's probably what he tells whoever he's having sex with. That's unfair of me since I've no way to verify the validity of my assumption, so like I often do, I ask a stupid question," Do you say all these same things to whoever you're currently involved with?" He thinks for a second, then says, "I can honestly tell you that at least forty-seven percent of what I tell you is new stuff I'm inspired to say because of how awesome and rare you are. The rest is more applicable to you than anyone else I'm fucking although I might say it to them to be nice. Everything I tell you is truthfully how I feel about you no matter if I said it to others or not, so will you marry me?" We both laugh, then I say, "Where's the ring? You can't propose without a fucking engagement ring. All my other marriage proposals included an expensive ring I get to keep when we break-up." He chuckles and goes to say something, but his cell phone rings interrupting our silliness.

Grinning at me he answers his cellphone and then stops grinning to say, "What? Tell me again slower, please!" He listens, then mumbles, "Fuck no, are you sure?" Pause, and then, "Have you seen him? When was the last time you checked?" He listens and says, "It'll take me three hours," pause, "Yes, right now, and thanks for telling me, Peter." He ends the call and stares out the window. After a few seconds I ask, "What is it, Tracy?" He looks at me like he's surprised I'm here. There are tears in his eyes as he says, "That was, Peter, a good friend of mine. He's a kid I grew up with and he just told me my youngest brother is in a coma. He, um, just collapsed coming home from school and they don't know why. He's in intensive care and I'm driving home right now to see him. I'm sorry, but I gotta put some stuff together and leave right away. I'll drop you off at your apartment on my way to the Mass Pike." His phone rings again, so he looks at it, mumbling, "Dad," and answers, then says, "I know, Peter called me." Pause, and then, "I'm leaving in ten minutes. I love you too, see you soon." I'm mumbling, "I'm so sorry, Trace," and touch his shoulder. He sort of falls against me for a hug and I feel him shaking as he silently cries. Then he lets go of me, wiping at his eyes, saying, "I'm not some pussy. I gotta pull myself together." I follow him into his bedroom and as he recklessly tosses some change of clothes and toiletry item on the bed. I put them neatly in a nice leather overnight satchel, and then we're going down the steps with him asking rhetorically, "What might it be? Why would Richie just collapse on the street?" I feel so bad for him, I ask, "Would you like me to keep you company during the drive home, or even drive you if you don't feel like driving?" At his car he tosses the satchel in the back seat, saying, "You're so nice, Dylan, but I don't know how long I'll be home. I'll be there at least long enough for me to hear Richie talking to me and I know he'll be alright. We're very close. I'd take him to kindergarten each morning on my way to middle school. He always gave me a hug and a kiss goodbye. I love that kid like my life," and he's crying silently again.

I can't think of anything appropriate to say during the eight to ten minute drive to my apartment complex. I insist he drop me off at the entrance and not take the time to drive around the complex. As I get out, I say, "Tracy, please drive sanely. Getting pulled over for speeding won't get you there quicker. Call Peter or your dad for updates because maybe Richie will come out of his coma as abruptly as he went into it. Please be careful." He says, "Good advise, Dylan, thank you. I'll call you when I find out, okay?" I nod, "Please do, and be safe!" His tires squeal as he pulls away. He drives too fast when he's not in a hurry so I'm worried how he'll drive now that he is in a hurry. That's why I offered to drive him. Fuck! Unexpected nasty stuff is just around the corner for all of us and something always goes wrong. Tracy's such a good person and seeing him cry like that almost got me doing the same. And that's even though, of course, I don't know his brother, Richie. I cry whenever I see another guy cry. It's like if I see someone yawn, I yawn too. Can't help it. As I walk slowly up the entrance road I'm unconsciously smelling the back of my wrist, but pull my arm away as soon as I realize I'm doing that. That's another thing I can't stop doing. Fucking habits! But, huh, Tracy took his little brother, Richie, to kindergarten every day on his way to middle school... that so fucking sweet. It's easy to forget that everyone of us was a baby one time, then a toddler, then kindergarten and so on. It's kinda weird when you think about it. Checking out some big ugly mean-looking oaf you pass on the street it's almost impossible to picture that guy in kindergarten as a tiny little innocent boy. Not easy to picture some people as kindergartners, that's fer sure.

Tracy's reaction was so openly expressive and so honestly real. No false bravado or jokes, he sincerely cares deeply about and loves his brother. It's something I can relate to completely. Chubby and I went to kindergarten together and we used to kiss and hug each other all the time. In kindergarten I mean. Chubby as a kindergartner, ha ha, that's a cute thought. It only cheers me up momentarily though because I'm sincerely worried Tracy will drive stupidly fast even though there's nothing he can do to help his brother when he gets there. I wonder what Richie looks like? He's gotta be cute if he's Tracy's brother because Tracy is very good looking and very cool. Richie probably looked up to his big brother, Tracy, all his life. Gee, I wonder what they'll think of Tracy's radical haircut change?

Trudging around to the back of our building finally, and keying the code in the back door, I go up the steps and down to the second door hearing 'The Counting Crows' CD playing inside. I figure Robby's home. The door's unlocked so I go in and there's my boyfriend sitting at the kitchen counter eating a dish of ice cream. He turns around and gives the special grin so I go over and put my arm around the back of his neck and kiss him on his strawberry lips. He kisses back offering me a spoonful of his strawberry ice cream which I suck off his spoon and kiss him again. "Thanks, Rob. It's so nice to see you," and I give him a hug because it is nice to see him. He goes, "Hi, baby, where ya been." I say, "Tracy called me and I kept him company on a trip into Boston to see his uncle." I tell him about the Boston trip, about me giving Tracy the burr haircut, and then Tracy hearing about his little brother being in a coma for reasons unknown. In between telling him the story he shares his dish of ice cream with me. The ice cream is good but sharing the same spoon is the best part. I don't feel guilty about having sex with Tracy and it actually makes me more amorous towards Robby somehow. I like hugging him and sharing kisses and spoons of ice cream with him. Robby's sorry about Tracy's little brother and then he tells me about baseball practice and how Danny sprained his ankle on the first base bag running out an infield single during an inter-squad game. Robby, finished the ice cream is putting the bowl in the dishwasher, saying, "I want to take you and Danny out to dinner tonight, Dylan. I've had a shower and maybe you should take one and then we'll pick up Danny." Oh, I loved that he basically told me to take a shower. He does 'bossy' sometimes without even realizing it anymore. I love that, so I say, "Right away, Rob," give him another hug, and we do a long kiss as Robby's rubbing his hand up the back of my head. Breaking the kiss, he says, "Dylan, I love you so much it's hurts my heart. Tonight I want us to have lovers sex all night long and tomorrows Tuesday so we have a later first class so I'm gonna fuck you in the morning too. Whaddaya think about that?." I'm nodding my head, grinning, "You know me, Rob, I can never have enough sex with you." He says, "You're awesome," and then as I'm walking down towards our bedroom he calls after me, "Have Ryan give you a haircut, or I will if you want, okay?" That gets my dick feeling good. God, at times like this I love my life!

After a nice hot shower I dry off and get ready to go out to dinner by putting on my coolest clothes and accessories. Can't let Danny outshine me. He's a cute sexy lad himself. When I think about it rationally, I gotta admit that Danny's a perfect side-sex partner for my Robby. He's cute like I said, with a sexy hot body, he's on the baseball team so they have a lot in

common, and he's a damn nice guy. Back in the living room Robby says, "Come on out on the balcony for a smoke." I follow him out and he holds out his pack of Marlboro Lights for me. Then he lights both our cigarettes and says, "Um, tonight I wonder if you'd do me a favor and convince Danny you don't mind if he works on my crew with you this summer. He's all fucked up about his mom and dad divorcing, but he's worried you won't like it if he works with us this summer. His mom called him on his way back to college and she was sobbing about how bad she feels that he is going through this. It'd lift his spirits if he knew what he'll be doing this summer." I say, "Of course I will, Rob, I feel bad for him too." Robby gives me a one arm hug, then a quick kiss, "Thank you, babe. I knew you'd be supportive." I say, "Not just for Danny, but mostly I'd do it for you." Then I feel that funny weepy feeling I've been sensing when I'm around Robby lately, so I get a little emotional, mumbling, "Um, I'd do anything for you, Rob." He hugs me asking, "What's wrong, Dylan?" I go, "Nothing, I just love you so much, that's all. I get emotional about it." Another kiss from Robby, "You know I feel the same way about you, babe."

As we smoke Robby's telling me about his hitting this year and how the coach has him standing up in the batter's box, and blah, blah, blah. I'm nodding like I'm listening, but at the same time I'm trying to understand the weepy moments I feel around Robby lately, not always but once in a while. I'm afraid it might be because I've fallen in love with Ryan, which of course seems disloyal to Robby, except I'm still in love with him as much as ever. Maybe that's not possible though, and maybe I'm afraid if my feeling of love for Ryan keeps growing it could put Robby's and my true love relationship in jeopardy. A truly frightening thought. I don't know how it happened, but I've always, had this incredible sexual heat for Ryan and if that's coupled with feelings of true love too... well then I'm in trouble. It's not like you can tell yourself you love someone or you'll stop loving someone... it doesn't work like that. You can't turn love on and off. Oh fuck, Robby just asked me a question that I didn't exactly hear, and now he's looking at me with a questioning expression on his face. I go, "Um, whaddaya mean?" He says, "Either way is fine, Dylan, it's your choice," and I think he said something about a haircut. Taking a chance I go, "You or Ryan, huh?" He nods and I say, "I guess, Ryan, but if you wanna do it that's okay too." He goes, "I just wondered because you didn't say anything when I said you need a haircut." I grin, "Oh, I didn't know it was a question. You tell me to get a haircut and I tell Ryan when I see him. You're the boss, Rob." He grins, "That's because you want me to be the boss." I go, "Sure. Um, Ryan won't be back until probably ten or ten-thirty tonight though." Robby rubs my head, "Tomorrow's fine, Dylan, jeez. I like my boyfriend looking sharp so everyone's jealous of me." I ask, "You don't mind that Ryan's been doing my haircuts?" Robby rubs my head again, "Nope, I like the way he cuts your hair. You look sexy-hot to me with short hair. I told you that before, remember?" My dick is getting hard so I pull his ponytail and murmur, "I can't wait to get in bed with you tonight, Rob. You've got me wicked horny for you." He grins and gently squeezes my stiffening cock, "I can tell, and it makes me horny that I get you horny." Then his cell phone rings.

Robby looks at the caller ID and mutters, "What a coincidence, it's Ryan," then, "Hi, buddy, wassup?" and they have a little conversation with Robby telling him we were just talking about him. He tells him I need a haircut and Ryan says something that makes Robby laugh. Then he ends with, "Yeah, see you tomorrow, babe." Two things caught my attention: one, why the fuck didn't Ryan call me. And, two, since when does Robby call anyone 'babe', but me? What the fuck?" I step on my cigarette pretending I don't care what they talked about. Robby says, "He's at the Atlanta airport. You're right he figures he'll be in his dorm about ten-thirty. I told him he's missing a dinner at Burton's tonight, not that he couldn't afford to go there anytime he wanted too." I nod, "Oh, huh," and he grins at me, asking, "Ready to go?" I nod my head, then tell myself to loose the pout! As we go inside, I say, "Oh, I didn't know we were going to Burtons, big spender." Robby shrugs, "I don't treat you enough, Dylan. You being my true boyfriend and partner for life, and all." I say, "That's because you're cheap, Rob," and he laughs, "I am not!" and he squeezes the back of my neck giving me sexy chills. As we put our coats on, I go, "Okay then you're not cheap, so when we're married

and I'm home with our baby don't forget to treat me to a box of Godiva dark chocolates once in awhile." He smiles, "Oh, you still like my dream for us!" I say, "Of course I do! I'm just following your lead as the future head of our household. You said it was too soon for us to be engaged and I agree, but I haven't forgotten our dream." Robby's excited, "I knew I was right about all that. I should never have been influenced by Dodger and Chubby."

I go, "No, they were right that we're too young for it now, but the dream still sparkles in my head." He looks so happy as we go down the stairs hand in hand. He wouldn't think of holding my hand a few months ago. The pickup's close by the back door of course, and as we get in he says, "Nobody can brighten my day like you, baby." As I'm putting my seatbelt on he leans over and kisses me, "Thanks for bringing our dream out of storage so we could polish it a bit. We'll put it away for now, but some day, huh, Dylan?" I so, Yep, some day."

We pick up a limping Danny. I slide to the middle of the bench seat and he gets in. Then, to my surprise, Danny gives me a peck on my lips, then Robby and him lean over and kiss on the lips right in front of me. This is Robby's doing. He did the same thing for our threesome having us kiss 'hello' and 'goodbye'. I like it and wish I was expecting Danny's kiss so I could have kissed him back. Danny says, "Hiya, Dylan. Damn you look good, as always. You should let your hair grow like Rob's though. He told me you two have identical hair coloring. like two tone blond. You're both lucky." I say, "Oh, yeah, that's true, but Rob likes me with short hair, don'cha Rob?" He goes, "Yeah, you're sexy hot with that haircut. Of course you're sexy hot without it too... ha ha." That shuts Danny up, but not for long. He asks , "Did Rob tell you I suggested he stand further up in the batters box? He tried it today and he was hitting line drives to all fields." Robby goes, "Well, um, yeah Danny suggested it, but I asked the hitting coach before I changed my batting stance and he told me to go ahead and try it." Which isn't exactly what he told me twenty minutes ago. Burton's restaurant is only five minutes from the campus and it's always crowded, plus they have a small parking lot. Ha ha, I get a kick outta hearing Robby bitching about not finding a good parking spot. Welcome to my world 'cause I can never find one. Robby finally needs to park in a lot below the restaurant. As we trudge up the hill to Burton's with Danny hobbling and leaning on Robby, Robby's still fuming and muttering about the lack of parking. I've got a grin on my face listening to him. Danny keeps looking over at me smiling and making nice. I like him.

Inside the restaurant we discover the reservation Robby made doesn't carry much weight. The lady at the front desk tells us, "We're extremely busy tonight. Sorry boys, but it'll be ten minutes or so." No shit, you're busy, huh? Burton's is always busy. Here's an idea... don't take reservations if you can't keep 'em! We don't say that of course. Instead we frown at the receptionist, like she gives a shit, and then we wait and watch people without reservations get seated before us. A Merrimack student last year worked here as a busboy part time and he told me they alternate seating between 'walk-ins' and those with reservations. Stupid policy, but it hasn't hurt their business apparently and we still come, so maybe we're the stupid ones. Anyway, in ten minutes we get seated and a lady waitress is immediately hovering around our table for our drink orders. We all order iced tea and then look at the menus. I hear Danny take a deep breath, then say, "Dylan, um, there's no way I'd ever come between you and Rob. You know that, right?" I shrug, like how the fuck could I know that? And he goes, "I just wanted to get that out of the way first. And, um, I'm hoping it's okay with you if I work with you on Rob's crew this summer. I'd rather not go into why I need to be away from home most of the coming summer, but it's kinda important that I

am. So whaddya think, would it bother you?" I ask, "Why ask me, Danny? It's up to him," and I nod at Robby. Danny licks his lip, then says, "Um, Rob says it's up to you." Well, what the fuck? What am I supposed to say... go fuck yourself, Danny. I say, "Oh yeah? Well why do you need to be away from home, Danny?" Robby gives me a stern 'look' as Danny fiddles with his cloth napkin, then says, "It's kinda personal, but my parents are going through a divorce and they're still living together in our house. It's really awkward for me being there, ya know? Actually it's more complicated than that, but I don't want to go into any more details. You've got to give your okay though, and the three of us get along great so I hope you'll say it's okay." I go, "I already told Rob it's okay." Robby nods his head like I'm a good boy, and Danny mumbles, "Thanks. Um, I needed to hear you say it."

We go back to looking at the menus. It really is okay with me, but I don't like being put on the spot like that. Robby should have told me that's what this dinner's all about. Oh fuck, he actually did infer it was I guess. I'm basically okay with it, but I know goddamned well that those two are gonna be fucking all summer. I glance at them exchanging 'looks' with grins on their faces. It's okay, and they'll both be in the summer baseball league too like Robby and Ryan were last summer. Oh well, Robby's had to share me with others at times so I guess if he's able to tolerate it I can too. Robby's all smiles as he asks me, "What are you going to get, Dylan?" I go, "The surf and turf, Rob." He's eyebrows go up because he's pretty tight with a buck and the surf and turf is the most expensive item on the menu, which is of course why I'm getting it. I add, "And the crab appetizer, I think," which is the most expensive appetizer too." He bites his bottom lip, then blurts out a laugh, mumbling, "You're awesome," and then he laughs out loud because he knows me. I chuckle as Danny goes, "What? What's funny?" I say, "I'm ordering the most expensive items on the menu and Rob's cheap." Danny grins, "Yeah, I think that's why I'll order that too," and we both look at Robby who's shaking his head grinning. I say, "And it's gonna be this way all summer too, Rob. Plus I'll probably be messin' around with Danny on the back of the truck while you're driving us to the different jobs." Robby laughs, muttering, "Oh fuck, I'm fucked." Danny and I grin at each other, then do a 'low five' with Danny holding onto my hand for second after we slap palms. We exchange smirks and I'm thinking, 'He's a hottie, fer sure.'

to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com (mailto:thinat20@yahoo.com)

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