DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR
Chapter 66
by Donny Mumford
Connor asks me, "Do you wanna hang out with me when we get back to the hotel?" We've just left the gay club and we're jogging to the car where Robby, Dodger, and Vinnie are waiting for us. I grab Connor's arm. "Stop, Connor, okay? Lets walk, I'm kinda hammered and tired so I really can't hang out with you tonight. I'm sorry, but we'll get together tomorrow, okay?" He says, "Sure, I understand." Oh fuck, I feel bad disappointing Connor like that, but I wouldn't be very good company tonight. Connor tells me Robby drank too many shots and threw up, which is mostly why we're all leaving the club kinda early. When we get to the car Vinnie and Dodger are making-out in the front seat. Connor and I roll our eyes, then get in the third seat. Robby's stretched out sleeping on the second seat. Dodger turns his head looking at us and he's exasperated, "Damn, you guys couldn't have given us another ten minutes?" meaning, I guess, so he could fuck Vinnie. Vinnie's embarrassed, yelling, "Dodger!" Dodger laughs and rubs Vinnie's head, saying, "Don't be like that, Vinnie. Connor and Dylan know the score" He starts the car, asking me, "Where the fuck were you the last hour or so?" I go, "I don't know. Lost I guess." He's kinda drunk himself and he gets us lost on the way back to the hotel with Vinnie asking, "Why didn't you turn right like the GPS told you too?" and Dodger says, "I did turn right." Vinnie mutters, "Your other right, Dodger." When Dodger hits a curb making a turn and after an argument Vinnie takes over the driving and gets us back safely. I wake Robby and with him still half asleep and drunk Connor and I have our hands full getting Robby to the elevator. This is the first time we've used the elevator. We usually take the steps.
We get Robby inside our room where Connor says, "See ya tomorrow, Dylan," then we have a quick kiss with Connor sort of clinging to me and making me feel bad again. Chubby's, of course, not back from his party yet so I plop Robby on the bed and pull his shorts and sandals off, then get him under the covers. He can sleep in his shirt because I'm too fucked up to get it off him. I'm barely able to take a piss and get my own clothes off, then fall in bed and get under the covers next to Robby. That last vodka drink kicked the shit out of me. That thing was strong. Then, oh fuck, I should have brushed my teeth and taken a few Tylenol when I was up. Too late now 'cause I'm not getting up again. Pulling Robby against me, I sigh and then it's lights out for me. Some time during the night I think I hear Chubby stumbling around in the dark bumping into things and cursing quietly, then snickering. After that, the next thing I know I'm awake needing to take a piss so bad I simply have to get out of bed or I'll pee on the sheets. In the bathroom, while pissing, I check my watch and see it's a little after seven o'clock. I'm not sure what time we got to bed last night, but this is way too early to be getting up. I wash my hands and face, brush my teeth finally, and then snuggle back under the covers with my boyfriend. Oh fuck! I forgot to take Tylenol again. Oh well, it feels too good snuggling in bed, so I'll take some later. My mind drifts to the totally unexpected experience with Terry last night. Oh man, that was a weirdly hot sexual encounter, and one I wouldn't mind doing again with him. Swishy Terry easily and confidently dominated my ass completely, but in a sweet and caring way. It's like the whole thing was no big deal to him. He was almost casual about it, like he just took it for granted he could fuck me whenever he wanted to. He actually said that too, but in a nice way. Huh! I don't know how to explain it exactly, but being dominated by an effeminate guy was a totally hot experience! Wildly unexpected of course because he's... well he's swishy and effeminate, and he seemed so harmless and forgettable when I first met him, so him effortlessly dominating our night together had a impact for me... like BOOM! He became amazingly and sexually hot to me.
I drift off to sleep continuing to be fascinated by Terry's exploits. What was the turning point for me? Being drunk didn't help of course. I don't know, but I'm sure of this: I'm looking forward to seeing him again. The next thing I'm aware of is dreaming about being on a desert island having sex with someone, or maybe with two guys, but not being sure who they are. I know I'm dreaming because I've had this dream four or five times before. Then Robby wakes me by rubbing my head and goosing my ass. I open my eyes and look at him smiling at me. "Oh hi, Robby, g'morning." I yawn, and then ask, "How ya feeling?" He grins, "I think I'm still a little drunk, so I'm still feeling okay. Heh heh, except I'm horny. I woke up with a boner." He gropes himself, muttering, "Lost my boner now." I shrug, "Oh, um, huh." My head aches and I feel a little dizzy so my hangover is in full 'fuck-me-up' mode. That's strange because over all I don't think I had that much to drink. Blinking my eyes and then yawning again, I ask, "What time is it?" Still groping himself, he picks up my arm and looks at my wristwatch, "It's almost ten-thirty." Flopping over on my back I do a big sigh as Robby gets right next to me grinning again, "Would you mind pulling your undies down, Dylan?" I'm like, "Oh no, not now, Rob," and he nods his head, "Yep, right now." He rubs my underpants right on my dick and then he's rubbing his nose against my nose and I go, "Robby! Please! I beg you, brush your teeth! Your breath smells like a litter box exploded in your mouth." He laughs, "That's what it tastes like too. Ha ha, okay," and he gets out of bed, than staggers a little, muttering, "Oh, easy does it... heh heh." I watch him go into the bathroom, then I look over and see Chubby's sleeping on the pull out sofa with his head under the covers. The covers rise a little and drop a little so at least he's breathing. What the fuck day is it anyway. I figure it out and come up with today being Wednesday. Tomorrow the boys are going to Disney World where Robby's hooking up with Danny. Huh. Oh yeah, I'm suppose to hook up with Willie on Thursday, and then there's Terry, hmmm. I grope my package feeling funny. I'm confused about this whole deal with Terry, still trying to think what it was that first got me acting submissive to him. Can't think when or why that happened. What did he do, or was it all in my head.
My thoughts are put on hold when mint-toothpaste-and-mouthwash-breath Robby hops back in bed and breathes in my face, asking, "Better?" I have to laugh because he is still a little drunk and acting cutely silly. He looks cute too. I repeat something he said to me yesterday, "My body's all yours." He says, "I know," and he rolls me away from him, up on my side and pulls my boxer shorts down off my ass. I pull them down in front so I don't cum in them, then pull them back up again so I will cum in them. Why cum on the bed? Robby's got an arm over my side holding me there while his other hand is busy rubbing his cock around my butt cheeks and then up my ass crack. His mouth is on the side of my neck sucking and licking a hickey and it all gets pretty fucking sexy. I can easily smell his personal sexy scent this morning and it's been sexually arousing to me from way back when we were giving each other massages. That was the first summer I knew him and every morning we were giving massages before working on the grass cutting crew. We started doing that as an excuse to touch each other. We got very intimate with the touching as the days went by too. Then came our first kiss and we've never looked back. We fell in love quickly, although Robby realized it before I did. Now he's giggling and putting his stiffening cock between my thighs. I squeeze my legs together so he can pretend fucking them and soon I feel his precum on the inside of my legs as it drools from his now very hard cock. He's breathing noisily, sounding very aroused. I look over at Chubby in the pull out bed, then murmur, "Shhh, Robby, don't wake Chubby." He snickers, then says, "It's extra sexy having sex with him two feet away, huh?" I don't know about that.
He moves the slippery head of his boner around my asshole now, getting it wet and slippery. He pokes it in the center of my anus and the lips spread a little, then stretch some more as I suck on my lips and my dick starts getting hard. With a gasp from Robby the head slips right in past my sphincter and he goes, "Jesus, that went in easier than I expected." I think, 'Oh fuck! There's still lube remnants in my rectum from Terry's condom!' Robby grunts as he pushes his cock steadily up my ass making me shudder and moan, "Ooooh, mmm, Robby," and then glance over at Chubby sleeping again. Robby's shaved crouch is soon tight against my buttocks and then a final hump and, "Oft," from him. With his fat cock snugly filling my rectum, Robby goes back to sucking on the same spot at the side of my neck, and at the same time he plays casually with my nipple. The one with the nip ring and he soon has my nipple as hard as his dick. He humps against my buttocks again and sucks on the red bump that's forming on my neck. The hickey is getting a raw feeling to it and beginning to sting as he continues sucking it. Being as quiet as I can be considering the situation, I start groaning and muttering that my hickey is really stinging. The stinging makes me squirm and try moving away. His free hand grips my head holding it steady and a leg comes over mine holding my body still. Then he continues to suck, suck, suck and lick, lick, lick on the hickey. Unable to move I get a claustrophobic attack for a few seconds struggling desperately, but he's too strong for me. I'm immobile with his leg over mine, his hand on my head, and his arm over my side holding my body against his. I try one last desperate struggle, then there's nothing I can do but give in to his dominant manner. With my cock throbbing, I slide into a submissive trance moaning and laying docile for him now. He mumbles, "Got'cha now."
His mouth and tongue and lips make hypnotizing wet sucking sounds as he raises a significant hickey before taking his mouth off my throat. He roughly rubs my head, mumbling, "There it is, hah! That's a damn good hickey that'll be around for awhile." He pushes my head again, then does a few thrust of his boner up my ass pulling his cock almost all the way out of my ass, but the head is swollen now and while it pulls back the lips of my asshole, it's doesn't come out. His cock slides tightly and smoothly back up my ass assisted by his precum and what's left of the condom's lubricant from last night. Then he does it again and I bite my lip moaning quietly, feeling awesome. Again the almost total withdrawal of his boner and then his fat cock slides back up my rectum as my shoulders shudders and I moan, "Mmmm, Robby, umm umm, feels good." He holds my head in place again and kisses the side of my face, then whispers, "Be sure and tell Worthington who gave you this hickey." That makes me notice the stinging hickey again, but I don't say anything until he goes, "Tell him! Okay Dylan?" I go, "I'll tell him if I see him again." Robby humps his boner back and forth hard a few times, then says, "If you see him again, that's a good one. Ha!' and he sucks on the hickey some more as I go deeper into dreamy submissiveness.
He finally loses interest in the hickey and after a few more casual trusts he start steadily fucking me and I forget all about the stinging hickey and grovel in the pleasure of being fucked up the ass. I'm soon humping my ass back at his thrust, getting in a rhythm with him. My rectum's alive with an explosion of sexual pleasure, my anus' nerve endings sizzling constantly stimulated by Robby's smooth moving boner, and my prostate quivers with pleasure as the shaft of his cock slides tightly over it, both going in and coming out. Robby's scent overwhelms my olfactory system and the feel of his tight body colliding with mine increases my sexual arousal until it's the only thing in my brain. His unexpected dominance is so perfect I'm gulping and gasping moans of pleasure. The sounds of our bodies smacking against one another is thankfully muffled because his cock is out through the fly of his underwear and the material deadens the sound of male fucking. That's the only thing missing through, and I can hardly believe how fast my orgasm is building.
Chubby sleeping so close to Robby and me having sex is turning me on even more. Robby's getting near a climax himself. I can tell from the increased speeds and force of his thrusting. I'm squeezing my buttock's muscles to increase the sensation in my ass and then I moan Robby's name in an embarrassingly high pitched voice and the first squirt of cum shoots from my quivering boner. My cock's so hard it's sticking straight out pushing out the material of my boxer shorts. That first spurt of cum spreads out on the material of my underwear and is followed by a long stream of spunk saturating my underpants with creamy cum. With another hard hump of my hips two more shots of cum shoot out of my cock and I feel on the verge of fainting from the overwhelming sexual sensations bombarding my brain. Nobody could possibly experience more intense orgasms than I have. My boner and ass are a world of sexual pleasure as my body shakes and I close my eyes concentrating on how incredible my climax felt. Another shudder and a moan as Robby's body stiffens and he gasps filling my rectum with a long ejaculation that I feel hit the walls of my rectum. It's sloppy in my ass now as a whining desperate sound comes from Robby while he humps against me again and moans... I assume he has himself another nice ejaculation from his nuts. We're deadly still for just a second or two and then I feel him shudder against me as he squeezes me tightly to his chest, his bicep muscle bulging, then he breaths deeply, sighs, and his body relaxes. Thirty seconds later he flops over on his back pulling his limp cock from my ass. I fall over on my back next to him. My cum-soaked underpants settle down wetly on my belly, cock, and balls.
We lay like that without talking, just taking deep breaths. The indescribable orgasm sensations and the fleeting feeling right after climax don't last nearly long enough, but there's this wonderful feeling after having an orgasm that's really nice too. Being sexually satisfied for the moment is such a relaxing feeling. One last deep breath and Robby turns his head looking at me, asking, "How was it for you?" I grin because he's always looking for compliments after sex, and he deserves some too, so I go, "Spectacular, Rob. You fuck the best and I'm serious about that, but the hickey you gave me stings." He goes up on his side supported by his elbow looking down at me grinning. "You big baby. It's just a lover's hickey to help you remember who your man is." Yep, he's still drunk. I chuckle muttering, "I like the sound of that, Rob," and he rubs his hand over my chest, mumbling, "I know you do, baby, that's why I said it," then he flops on his back again, saying, "Oh fuck, I need more sleep." I'm like, "Let me get you some Tylenol before you go back to sleep." I go in the bathroom and look for the Tylenol in my toiletry kit. After taking three Tylenol myself, I give Robby three with a bottle of water. He swallows them, then closes his eyes, mumbling, "Thank you, Dylan. I love you." Okay, I'm very awake now and there's no way I can go back to sleep after that hot fuck. Yeah, and it's almost eleven o'clock anyway so I might as well get dressed. After some bathroom activities that include cleaning Robby's cum off my ass, I get dressed and put on my cool Oakley sunglasses, then quietly leave the room without disturbing my two sleeping roommates.
In the lobby the complimentary coffee is cold again, so outside I buy a paper cup of hot coffee from the refreshment stand that's open on the beach side, and walk in the sand. The bright sun and hot temperature soon gets my headache pounding again so I step back under the canopy and sit down trying to figure out what I want to do. My minds jumping around a little as I'm thinking that the problem with having a good time and escaping reality a little at night by getting high on alcohol or drugs but there's always a price to pay when coming down off the high the next morning. Then my mind drifts to how sexually hot Robby was this morning and how I love him as much as ever. It'll be me and him facing life together at some point in our lives, plus with Chubby in the vicinity, fer sure. Then I think about Terry and me last night, and then more importantly I think about letting down Connor. I really need to spend some intimate time with him because I love that kid and he kinda looks up to me. I'm so grateful he has Dodger looking out for him in the Army. Without Dodger being there I'd be worried sick about Connor all the time. He's too nice and trusting for this world, and without Dodger with him in the Army I'm afraid people would take advantage of him like his mother did for most of his first eighteen years. Oh man, I hate hangovers, but after drinking some pretty good coffee I take a chance and light a cigarette. That gets my head pounding again so I stub it out as Dodger, Vinnie, and Connor come outside, each carrying a cold can of Coke. Connor offers me some of his and I swallow some cold soda that seems to calm down my pounding headache.
I mutter, "Thank, Connor," handing the Coke can back to him. All three of them appear in good shape, as Dodger pats my back and rubs my head, exclaiming, "Dylan, buddy! Hey, how's it going, dude?" and they sit down with me and tells me about a airboat Everglades tour they we're going on this afternoon. The three of them are acting chipper as if they didn't get hammered last night, although I know they did. Apparently some guys don't suffer their hangovers like Robby and I do. I ask about that and Dodger says, "It's mind over matter, Dylan. Ignore the discomfort and concentrate on having some fun." Vinnie says, "Dodger's right, it's like with a hangover ya gotta tell yourself 'strikhedonia'." I nod my head, not having a clue what that means, and asking Vinnie, "Why do you use words no one's ever heard of?" He shrugs, "Because they're there and it's fun." I go, "Oh, that explains it," and he goes, "Yeah, strikhedonia means, 'the pleasure of saying the hell with it'. I mean, there isn't a cure for a hangover other that nonalcoholic liquids and rest, so fuck it. Like Dodger says, ignore it." I go, "Uh huh, okay. Good advise. Um, where's this Everglades tour take place?" Dodger goes, "Not far from here at the Sawgrass Recreation Park. It's an airboat ride... we have a one o'clock reservation, and only for the six of us. We rented the whole fucking airboat." I'm like, "That's cool, mister organizer." He says, "It was Jeff's idea, he's the organizer, but yeah it does sounds cool." Connor says, "We should get something to eat first, don't ya think?" As I finish my coffee and they finish their Cokes, I'm like, "Did ya know my two roommates are still sleeping? Should I let them sleep?" We've got mixed ideas about that, but decide to eat some breakfast and then decide.
We dump the cans and my paper cups in the proper recycling bins and walk along the promenade looking for a place to have breakfast as the guys are talking about last night at the gay club. They get me laughing about some of the guys who tried to get them to have a drink, or dance, or go in the restroom with them. I'm waiting for someone to ask me about Terry, but no one does... so that's good. We stop at a take-out restaurant that makes breakfast sandwiches on toasted English muffins. Real fried eggs as opposed to whatever fast food joints like McDonalds use as their fried eggs. Also Canadian bacon and cheese. I put ketchup, salt and pepper on mine and we eat them walking along the promenade looking at people and enjoying the breeze off the ocean. We've had perfect weather everyday we've been here with sunny skies and temperatures in the low eighties. There are many, many college students walking by, all shapes, sizes and colors, but only one in ten of the guys I see are worth a second glance.That's about par for the course, and taking it further only about one in a hundred qualify to be in the really cute and or sexy category. It's the luck of the draws how cute you are, depending entirely upon your parents' gene mixture. Hell, neither of Robby's and Dodger's parents are especially good looking, but the mix of their genes worked out spectacularly for the boys, ha ha, and for me too. Meaning they're both hot, sexy, and really cute to look at. Others might disagree, but then they'd be wrong.
I get a text from Chubby that he's with Robby. I tell the guys, "Hey, I got a text from the two casualties who overdid it last nights, imbibing too many shots, beers, and mixed drinks." I'm just assuming Chubby overdid it because he usually does being a fun loving kid and all. Luckily for me Terry monopolized the last part of my night reducing my alcohol intake to just that one mixed vodka drink that he bought for me, but I had a number of drinks before that. The guys tell me they were doing a lot of shots, which I happily missed being sexually involved with Terry. It's ironic that Terry was the one who started everyone on the shots with that first tray of shots he brought for us, and then he hooked up with me having something else on his mind besides drinking shots of whiskey. Consequently we missed all the later rounds of shots. Anyway I'm feeling pretty good after the coffee and breakfast sandwich, plus the Tylenol I took earlier have helped a lot too. Chubby's text wants to know where we're at. I text back naming the stand we got the breakfast sandwiches at and he text back that he and Robby just finished breakfast at a place on the promenade called 'Gene's Breakfast and Lunch'. Looking back in the direction of our hotel I see the sign for that restaurant. It's about six shops down, closer to our hotel. We meet them there and sit on a bench plotting our day. We're all going to experience the Everglades on an airboat, whatever that is, then will grab lunch somewhere. What we do after lunch is up for discussion. Chubby has a brochure listing some of the activities available in and around Fort Lauderdale. He asks, "Anybody wanna have a Barbie's dream house experience?" We all give him a 'look' and he goes, "No? Scratch Barbie? Okay, how about butterfly world? Doesn't that sounds exciting?" and I grab the brochure from him and look for sensible possibilities. The two Chubby mentioned are indeed listed on the brochure, but so is 'Fun Rentals' for scooters, we could rent scooters and ride around seeing more of Fort Lauderdale. Or there's Gulfstream live horse racing and casino. That's probably not a good idea, but I ask, "How about something called 'CB Smith's Water Park'?" The guys are like, "Maybe, what else is there?" I say, "Well this sounds expensive, but there's water skiing at Ski River. No wait, that's too far from here and you need to reserved a boat twenty-four hours in advance. Un, how about Manor Lanes bowling." Vinnie says, "We can bowl at home any fucking time we want," and Dodger says, "Vinnie, baby, chill the fuck out!" I go, "There's Fort Lauderdale Ghost town," but no, that's a night tour." Chubby takes the brochure back and says, "You didn't mention Bluefoot's Pirate Adventure village." I laugh, "Um, for good reason," and Robby says, "Let do the water park. We're going to Disney World tomorrow and then beach time Friday and Saturday so a water park sounds like a nice change of pace."
There's grumbling discord as we walk back to the hotel smoking. It's nothing serious, just the normal humorous ball-breaking and contentious behavior I'd expect from three college guys, two Army medics, and one high school senior. Then Robby's walking next to me, asking, "Are ya sure you don't want to go with us to Disney World? You've never been there." I shrug, "Um, I'll do the beach thing here instead and avoid the four hours of driving, two hours each way. Anyway I'd be the third wheel with you and Danny." He says, "No you wouldn't, Dylan! Danny wants you to come. He really likes you and I want you there too. Anyway, ha ha, Danny probably will follow in Ryan's footsteps and drop me for you sometime in the near future." I go, "Don't be stupid, Rob! He's not going to do that, and you know it! Plus I don't want him to. He's your number two boyfriend. I'm satisfied with my number two even though ninety-nine gay guys out of a hundred would choose Danny over Ryan. Still, I'm good with it." He laughs, "You're still my favorite con artist of all time." I'm like, "Whaddaya talking about? It's true." He shrugs, "Well, I wish you'd go with me. I'll be sitting in a seat all by myself." It's my turn to laugh, "Who's the con artist now? There's plenty of room for three on the second seat." He goes, "Come on, Dylan, go with us tomorrow. What are you going to do all day and night by yourself?" I know he's thinking I'll hook up with Willie, but I avoid that discussion, saying, "I like a little time by myself so I can do some self evaluation." He yells, "Uh oh, bullshit alert!!" Chubby asks, "What bullshit alert?" and Robby says, "Dylan wants to stay back from our trip to Disney World so he'll have time for self evaluation." Chubby says, "Oh yeah, what's wrong with that? My brother's a very deep thinker. He needs time to himself," and Chubby puts his arm across my shoulders and does a stage whisper, "Don't listen to him, bro, he doesn't know what deep thinkers we are. The shallow fucking Dickers brothers, huh?" Dodger and Robby flick their cigarette butts at Chubby and he's like, "What?"
At the hotel we go to our rooms to use the bathrooms and wash up, then we meet at the SUV and drive off for 'The Sawgrass Recreation Park'. Robby's driving for what should be a mere twenty-five minute trip. Everyone's hangover has faded by now, like they tend to do, and mine is actually a thing of the past. I feel pretty good. At the moment, in my mind, I'm reliving Robby's and my sexy morning. I glance over at him feeling sexual heat for him again. Damn, he's cool looking with that stubby ponytail. The ponytail makes me think of Tracy and our intensely hot, albeit short sexual encounters. Then I remember Tracy doesn't have a ponytail anymore. And oh boy, the hot time I had giving Tracy a burr haircut like mine. He looks good and sexy with that haircut too. Yeah, fucking side-sex really rocks! It's hard to imagine doing without it, but somehow I feel positive they'll come a day when sex with Robby's all I'll want. Seriously!
Robby asks, "How much was it to buy out the whole boat?" Chubby says, "Three hundred dollars, so it's fifty buck apiece. Cough it up!" We all mutter discouraging words as we pass Chubby fifty buck each. He counts the money, saying, "What are you complaining about? How often do you get the chance to fly through the Everglades in an airboat?" Robby says, "How about next time you check with us before committing to a fifty dollar a piece ride on anything." Chubby smirks, "If I waited for you guys to decide something we'd end up doing nothing." Vinnie reads from the Everglades brochure, "It says here the price includes admission to the park too, and a tour of south Florida's treasured Ecosystem that's supposedly unique to this area. The tour would be twenty-three dollars all by itself." Chubby's like, "See, a bargain," and Dodger's like, "What the fuck's an Ecosystem ?" Vinnie goes, "Ecological system. Concerns for certain forms of wildlife in the Everglades and critical habitat like brickell bush and Carter's sweat flowered flax. Also protection for constrictor snakes such as the reticulated python as well as silly things like Florida's leaf wing and Bartran's scrub streak butterflies, and all kinds of shit like that." Dodger goes, "Vinnie buddy, do you know what, 'TMI' means'?" Vinnie goes, "TMI, sure, it means too much information. Why?" I have to laugh because brilliant Vinnie is so clueless about us normal guys. He's lovable though and Dodger get him in a headlock rubbing his hair and messing up Vinnie's pompadour, with Vinnie going, "What the fuck, Dodger?"
As Robby pulls up to the entrance to the Sawgrass Recreation Park, I ask, "What's the maximum number of people that can fit on the airboat?" Chubby says, "Six comfortably, but I guess more could squeeze on in a pinch. We don't want to have strangers with us though, so I rented the whole boat." I'm like, "So it's a small boat, huh?" Vinnie gets free from Dodger's headlock, asking, "How many hours do we get for the three hundred dollars?" Chubby mutters, "One," and Robby's like, "Fifty dollars per person an hour! What the fuck?" He's a little tight with a buck which is ironic since he's always had more cash available to him from his parents than I ever did. He parks and we scramble out of the SUV to look around. Many tourists milling in the area because Chubby's right about the rarity of riding through the Everglades on an airboat. At the river dock we see there are a variety of boats that go through the Everglades. All different sizes too. We find ours by looking at the row of captains' names. The airboats are named after the captain of the boat. Captain of a small airboat, huh? No, that's not pretentious at all. Chubby talks to our 'captain', handing over the prepaid voucher he charged to his debit card. Then Captain Jay greets each of us as we get on the boat which seems kinda unsteady in the water. The weather here, away from the ocean, is muggy and steamy hot, but once we're seated, two to a seat that could easily accommodate three each, Captain Jay fires up the huge fan in the back of the boat and off we go. The breeze created as we zip along helps cool us some with Jay beginning his canned speech about the Everglades while pointing out stuff of interest, some of which Vinnie babbled about a little while ago.
It's a cool experience zipping along the top of the water through tall weeds, that I suppose are sawgrass. We're propelled along at forty miles an hour by the fan's. That's kinda hard to believe, but we're doing it. Actually, I need to assume we're going through sawgrass because Robby and I are in the seat in the back that's right in front of the scary big fan and we can barely hear the so-called captain's explanation of what we're seeing. The captain is a laid back dude, or else he's just bored by the whole thing. Gee, I wonder why? Maybe because he's been telling the same stuff five times a day for years. At three hundred dollars an hour though I'd expect a little more enthusiasm from him. The four guys in front of Robby and me can hear Captain Jay and they're laughing at the apparently entertaining stories and tall tales he's telling of the Everglades and the Seminole Indians who lived in this wilderness. They lived here along with the panthers who shared the space, alligators and other assorted dangerous animals. Robby and I hear bits and pieces of the story only when Captain Jay slows down to highlight something of special interest and then the noise from the big-ass fan quiets down. I guess it'd be too much trouble for Captain Jay to speak the fuck up a little. Even without hearing the whole story the guy has to tell, it's a lot of fun riding in an airboat and so I'm eventually disappointed to discover up ahead that we're back where we started. Checking my watch I consider mentioning that the ride was closer to forty-five minutes than an hour, but no one else seems to mind so we get off thanking Captain Jay. When it looks like Chubby's reaching in his pocket to give the captain a tip, Robby says, "Jeff, the gratuity's included in the price," and Chubby pulls out his pack of cigarettes that he was going for in the first place. He says, "Yeah, I know the tip's included, Robby." I grin because Robby's consistently tight when it comes to money.
We wander around looking for the place where we're suppose to hook up for the so-called 'exhibit tour of the park'. The guys seem satisfied with the airboat ride and I am too, so there's no grumbling. Chubby, who sat with Connor right behind the captain, says, "It was shorter than an hour ride because he asked me if we'd would prefer a more leisurely ride or the speed boat aspect of the airboat ride. I told him to put the pedal to the medal." Well then, I'm glad I didn't say anything to the captain about the length of the ride. We join the next touring group of the park with Chubby giving the guide the prepaid voucher. There are about twenty people in our group and the guide tells us, "During the tour you'll meet the Everglades' panthers and leopards," which I had no idea existed in the Everglades. He says, "There are also Florida gators of course, plus turtles, iguanas and other wildlife." As we start following him we of course hear the mandatory lecture about the care and protection of endangered species, both animal and vegetable, as well as the greening of mother earth. It goes on for a bit until Chubby mutters to me in a voice others can hear, "Lets hug a tree, bro, or better yet hug some sawgrass." I go, "Chubby!" Then we're at a spot where hideous looking alligators are wallowing in mud, some of them fighting with another alligator, snapping their significant jaws at one another. Delightful. Our guide gets behind one of the alligator, a big fucker, to demonstrate something. The guide's a young handsome fellow. He's got long hair pulled back with shaved side burns. Behind this big ass alligator, the guide does something to make the alligator lift it's long, big head and open wide it's scary mouth. Our guide holds his arms out to his side and rest his chin on the top part of the alligator's top jaw, the part that sort of correspond to alligator lips. Bringing his arm down, he rubs the alligators belly to keep it still, I assume. Alligator's have lots of teeth, so some in the audience clap at the guide's, bravery or, um, stupidity. I'm mostly wondering what the alligator's breath smells like. I mean the guide's nose is right over the wide open mouth. People take pictures as I see the guide's nose wrinkle, probably because alligator breath isn't very appealing.
After shooing the alligator away, the guide asks, "Who'd like to hold a baby alligator?" He says it like he's offering us a special treat. Well, naturally Chubby holds his hand up, saying, "Me, me, pick me," like a second grader in school. Of course he's smirking and acting like a nerd to make us laugh and to mock the idea that anyone would want to hold a slimy alligator. And we're all laughing as the guide picks up a muddy baby alligator and passes it to Chubby. He holds it like you'd hold a human baby patting the gator's back, saying, "How darling." Then the baby alligator starts snapping his jaw at Chubby's hand and Chubby does a dramatic scream throwing the baby alligator who scurries away. This gets most in the tour laughing again while the guide's scowling at Chubby, who's shrugging, asking, "Why the hell didn't you warn me it bites?" The guide runs after the little alligator, catches him, then asks, "Anyone else?" and one by one the dopey people hold the little reptile as Dodger whispers, "Lets get the fuck outta here." We've had enough and we're hungry, so it's back to the SUV and this time Dodger drives.
Everyone's in a good mood, if slightly disappointed the Everglades weren't more of an adventurous experience. As time passes though the trip to the Sawgrass Recreation Park, both the Everglades and the tour, will all seem like much bigger deals than they actually were. That's because every aspect of it will get embellished, especially Chubby and the baby alligator. That's for another time though, for now we drive back to the hotel to wash up and have lunch. By the time we're eating lunch it's three o'clock so we unitize some common sense and forget about the water park, settling for beach time instead. Maybe we'll hit the water park Friday or Saturday. After lunch we're smoking cigarettes walking down the promenade from the restaurant to the beach. Then I spot Terry and his hairy boyfriend, Sherman, talking with two other guys on the beach, but not our beach. Sherman's hairy arm is across Terry's shoulders so he's apparently unaware of Terry's and my naughty behavior last night. Even wearing sunglasses I can tell Terry knows our eyes meet with him giving me the slightest head nod and my dick notices with a little head nod of it's own. Shit, Terry's cool. I avert my eyes and continue on with Connor by my side, grinning at me. He's cute too. All his baby fat around his waist has turned to muscle. He, like me, is wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, bathing suit, and sandals. His biceps are now almost like mine except his are probably stronger than mine. Mine are mostly a freak of nature that I've toned up some from the lifting us roommates and Ryan have been doing most of our sophomore year.
Walking along, Connor and I catch up on our lives a little as the Dickers brothers, always competitive with each other, are planning some races to see who's fastest in the water and on land. I know who will win each competition and so do they, but they're going to race anyway just to be sure nothing's changed. Dodger will win the swimming and Robby will win the race on the sand. They're both just about the same size and both are stronger than a year ago, so we'll see. I ask Connor, "Why no tattoos yet, army boy?" He shrugs, "Nah, a tattoo that might look cool now, might not seem like such a good idea twenty years from now." I go, "Very practical, but with discreet tattoos like mine it will hardly matter." Stepping onto the beach near our hotel, he says, "I might get a small tattoo to commemorate my days in the military. Dicks and I have talked about getting one together." I'm like, "You call Dodger 'Dicks' now," and he says, "Everyone that knows him in Fort Sam Houston calls him that, and I think he knows everybody. I call him Dodger in our housing. We share an apartment. He never forgets anyone's name, but I'm not real good with names myself." I ask, "What do they call you?" He grins, "Meals, they call me Meals, which is short for my last name, Mealey. Dicks is short for Dickers obviously. We have name tags, our last names only, over the pocket of our shirts and guys get to know each other by their last names. They usually come up with some sort of abbreviation, like 'Dicks' and 'Meals'." I go, "Huh, that cool. Meals," and he laughs and blushes. His blushing must be an unconscious reaction to, well to anything.
All of us rent beach chairs and carry them down to a spot on the beach that's not too crowded. As soon as we set up the chairs, Chubby wanders over to talk to that girl he met yesterday and Vinnie has to go potty again. Dodger and Robby are still setting the rules for their contest, and Connor and I sit in our chairs looking at the brothers who appear happy being together again. It's almost like old times for them, and I'm happy for them. I marvel how cool and cute they are. Two beautiful boys, both with an awesome body. They're almost twins except for hair and eye coloring. As I talk with Connor I'm also glancing around, as usual I'm looking for cute guys, and I actually seeing one this time. Too bad he looks too young at sixteen or maybe seventeen at the most. He makes for nice eye candy though. So does Connor, so I look mostly at him as he's telling me what his life is like in the Army. It doesn't sound bad at all except for things like inspections and other military nuttiness. Other than that it's like a nine to five job basically. Of course quitting your job in the Army could be a problem or wanting to change jobs, but Connor likes what he's doing and he likes being around Dodger too. That makes me feel good. We light cigarettes with Connor grinning, saying, "I can even afford my own cigarettes now, Dylan. Of course they're way cheaper at the PX than they are around here, and forget buying cigarettes in Massachusetts."
He wants to hear the latest goings on at Merrimack, saying he misses college... and me. He's sweet and of course I miss him too. I tell him some of my experiences, excluding sexual tales, and brag a little about my GPA this year. I mention delving into the pot scene a little and how I actually got started with that the night of his welcome home party. Then I explain how I pretty quickly stopped smoking the joints, and he tells me there's a lot of weed in the Army and he's done some of it a few times himself. He begins telling me how badly he feels about his mom, who he has no idea where she is. The money he sends her keeps coming back, as undeliverable. I tell him his mom is a totally worthless and irresponsible dope addict who's used and abused him his whole life, and the best he can hope for is she's out of his life forever. Well, that's actually what I thought, but what I said was, "I'm so sorry, Connor. Lets hope she's in a facility getting better." He scrunches up his face turning away wiping his eyes, mumbling, "You're so nice to say that, Dylan. Thank you so much. That's what I pray for, just what you
said." Oh yeah, I'm nice alright... shit. Now I feel bad for thinking about his mother that way, although it's a true description from what I know about her. Letting Connor pull himself together, I look away checking out the sixteen year old again. He stands up now stretching his hot body waking from a nap perhaps, and oh fuck is he ever sexy and cute! Connor says, "Would you come with me to get one of those freshly squeezed lemonades they sell at the beach stand?" I say, "Sure, that sounds good. It's hot out here, huh?" The sun blares down so I say, "Lets put some sun screen on first, Connor." He nods his head and takes a bottle of sunscreen from the canvas beach bag he brought down to the beach with him.
Then he goes, "Um, before we do the sun screen, can I take a selfie with you and me, Dylan?" He blushes while asking that, so I say, "Absolutely. Email me a copy of it when you take the selfie, would you?" We put our arms around each other's shoulders, he holds his hand out with the cell phone, leans the side of his head over to touch mine and takes the picture. We both look at it and he goes, "Wow, we're pretty good looking, aren't we?" and another blush. I say, "You are, that's for sure," and he kisses me, "I love you, Dylan." I say, "Well fuck, right back at you!" He shrugs, looking at the picture again, mumbling, "You know what I meant." Putting his cell phone in the bag he takes the cap off the sun screen and starts rubbing it slowly on my back and sides, then he kneels in the sand and rubs sunscreen up the back of my legs. When he gets to the top of my thighs, one after the other, his finger tips go up under my boardie bathing suit to the bottom of my butt cheeks. We're both wearing boardie type bathing suits or 'jams' as some people call them. On his knees Connor walks around in front of me and now spreads sunscreen on the front of my legs with his hand wrapped around my leg as he slowly rubs up. His slippery hand continuing up my thighs and under my swimsuit in front until the tips of his fingers bumps the lining pouch holding my junk. His face is bright red as he gasps and looks up at me. I grin at him rubbing his head with my dick stirring. He does my other leg and when he stands up there's a tent at the lap of his boardie swimsuit. He stands too close to me while slowly rubbing both hands sexily on my stomach sliding the palms of his slippery hands up to my chest, going over the same area a number of times, then my neck. Finally he's gently spreading the sun
screen on my face, his crotch against mine with Connor breathing in little
gasping breaths until his forehead touches mine and he just stands like this for a few seconds with his hands on my hips.
I'm covered with sunscreen like I've never been covered with it before, Connor gasps, "Don't put it on me now, Dylan, or I'll shoot off in my bathing suit." I give him a hug spreading some of the sunscreen onto his chest and stomach, feeling aroused now myself. "Come on, Connor, lets get that cold lemonade to cool us off." We trudge through the sand to the outdoor refreshment stand with Connor's head down as he quietly mumbles, "Sorry for being such an ass getting carried away with the sunscreen." I squeeze the back of his neck as we walk, "You did one hell of a job with it, Connor. Jesus, I feel safe from the sun's rays now, dude." He's shaking his head, "Man, I don't know what to say except I've got a thing for you, Dylan, that's, um, stupid I guess, but I can't seem to stop throwing myself at you. I feel like such a dick." I'm like, "Chill, Connor, okay. It's perfectly all right, I'm
flattered! And, hell, I've got a thing for you too. We really do have a special loving friendship. Ya know, we've been through troubling times together, buddy." He says, "Yeah, my troubles that you've helped me through. You're like the best thing that's ever happened to me. I met Dodger through you and lots of your other friends too. Then with my mom not being at her best
and all, you were supportive of me, plus you got me in Merrimack for a fantastic year of college. It was like I was almost just another regular guy for awhile there. And then helping me get through the funeral that time, and
so many other things you've done for me. I'm... I don't know." I don't know
either, and I don't know what to say that's for sure. Then he tries to lighten things up by chuckling and saying in a humorous way, "Oh fuck, you're my hero, Dylan!" and he's grinning as he says it. I'm like, "Yep, that's me, captain hero."
There's a line at the refreshment stand, so I go, "We'll get in line and make a pact to forget bad parts of the past. Concentrate on the good things and your future's looking awfully bright too, Connor." He goes, "Ya know what, I agree with you. Things have definitely begun looking up for Connor Mealey." I go, "That's the positive thinking dude I know you are!" The line moves quickly and shortly I order two large lemonades, telling Connor, "My treat, buddy." We wander up the beach drinking our lemonades, not talking much, then dump the empty cups in a trash container and I take my cigarettes out offering Connor one. He mutters, "Thanks," and I light our cigarettes. We walk some more with me pointing out a hot dude on the beach here and there. One of the guys I point out, Connor says, "He's kinda cute, but I like smooth bodies and that guy has chest hair and hairy legs." I go, "Oh yeah, I used to be turned off by that too, but during the last year or so I've changed my mind. I think that guy back there on the beach has a nice balance of a smooth hot body with just the right amount of body hair. And. heh heh, I like hairy legs now too." Connor goes, "Ugh, gag me with a spoon," and I laugh, happy to see Connor take a stand on something instead of just agreeing with me. He tells me about an early embarrassing experience he had during basic training when he was a 'dining room' orderly, which means a 'waiter' basically, waiting on the sergeants and officers in the mess hall. One of the younger sergeants was giving Connor a really hard time because he spilled something. This prick was calling him out in front of the whole mess hall embarrassing the shit out of Connor so badly he thought he was going to cry. Dodger saw the whole thing and got Connor aside to cheer him up. He told Connor to give him the sergeants dessert, he'll serve it to him. Then to Connor shock Dodger hacked a luggie in the sergeant ice cream sundae and then put the spoon he was going to serve the sergeant down Connor pants to rub it on Connor's damp balls. When he pulled the spoon out it had a pubic hair stuck to it which Dodger embedded in the chocolate sauce. Then Connor watched Dodger obsequiously serve the sergeant his sundae dessert almost bowing to the guy. The sergeant said something about that being the way dining room orderlies need to serve their betters. He pats Dodger on the back telling him 'good job, recruit'. Dodger told Connor, "That's the way you pay back these assholes." We laugh at that with me leery about Dodger serving me any food in the future. Then Connor tells me that it meant so much to him, especially early on, that Dodger had his back like that and stuck up for him. Yeah, that's fucking Dodger alright! What a hot shit.
Connor laughs about that and other things that Dodger did during basic training. We're sitting on some pilings separating the beach from one of the hotel's parking lot. As we talk we look out at the ocean that goes on as far as the eye can see. I glance at Connor smiling that he still has a pompadour in the front of his hair. I mess it up chuckling and he goes, "Hey! My geeky pompadour!" then he leans against me so I put my arm across his shoulders and he talks quietly about the positive way in his crazy life, his words, it's looking like some of his dreams might actually come true. He's saving for college and the Army contributes too. He says Dodger is of course his best friend in the Army, but he made another good friend. Connor tells me, "He was like a loner, Dylan. I'd see him off by himself and I felt bad for him. I tried talking to him but he was defensive at first like he thought I was setting him up to bully him or something. I guess he's a little geeky and not real good looking, but I kept trying to include him in things, like eating lunch with us, and little by little he warmed up to me and we've become good friends. Dodger's so popular he's often doing stuff with other guys so I'm glad to have Sully as a friend." I go, "His last name is Sullivan, huh?" He's like, "How'd you know that? Yeah, his name's John Sullivan." I grin, "Just a wild guess," then I say, "Lets walk around this hotel and find someplace we can have some privacy." Connor eyes get big, "We're gonna do 'it' outside in broad daylight?" I go, "Yep, come on. It's not the first time you and I have done 'it' outside, ya know." We wander around the grounds of a hotel I don't even know the name of, with Connor asking, "You sure this is okay?" I mumble, "If we can find the right spot it will be." We come to a small utility building with a sign, 'AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY'. I say, "Huh, look at this little secluded building, Connor." He's like, "Oh, the sign, we better not go in there," as I try the louvered door. It's stuck, or maybe locked, so I give it a hard yank and something breaks, but it opens. Inside are a couple of large machines humming away. I think they're air conditioning units for some part of whatever hotel this belongs to. "Looking around and not seeing anyone, then taking Connor's hand I lead him inside. There's no roof and when I close the door I can see out a slit between two louvers. That's cool because from outside I couldn't see inside. Looking up I can see some of the hotel's balconies, so if anyone was on the balcony they may be able to see us, but no one's on the balconies.
Grinning, I say, "This is a dandy spot to do 'it' outside on a sunny day in Fort Lauderdale. I gently push Connor up against a wall made of artificial wood, some kind of plastic product that doesn't require painting and won't rot in the weather like wood would. Grinning at him I mess up his pompadour again, and he's like, "Hey," as he leans his face to mine and our lips meet. Connor's arms go around my neck when my tongue goes in his mouth and then he makes low whining sounds of sexual arousal as we make out. I can tell right away Connor hasn't made a lot of progress in the making-out department, but he's eager and he smells good. I smell like sunscreen but I haven't spread the sunscreen on him yet so his scent is pure Connor. I break the kiss and quietly say, "Try this, Connor," and I suck on his top lip and then slide my tongue in on his tongue as I kiss his lips a number of times, sort of sucking on them. He moans hugging me around my back now pulling us tightly together with his hips humping a little. He tries what I did with the sucking and kissing for a bit with me rubbing my fingers in his hair up the back of his head and now his boned-up cock is poking me in the leg.
I feel a lot of affection for Connor, tons of it, but not a great deal of sexual heat, although it's impossible to be making-out and rubbing bodies with a guy as attractive as Connor without springing a boner and I've got a nice one now. We break the kiss with the side of our faces sliding together and Connor gasping for air. I catch my breath and ask, "Do you wanna suck my dick a little?" He goes, "Yeah, I'd really like that," so I pull my swimsuit down to the middle of my thighs and he sinks to his knees. Connor's willing enough as he slurps on my hard cock, but like making-out he hasn't mastered much in the way of blow-job technique. Yeah, but anyone sucking your dick is probably gonna get it feeling good, as well as hard and mine gets plenty hard. Now I'm aroused too. I get a hand under each of Connor's armpits and pull him to his feet. He stands there and I pull down his bathing suit, then give him a hot wet kiss before turning him around. As he turns his boner swipes across my groin leaving a streak of precum. He has a nice looking uncut penis that's about five and a half inches long when it's hard like it is now.
Taking a deep breath and really getting into the mood now I give his ass a hard, "SLAP!" and he yelps. Whoa, I look out through the slit of the louvered slats, but no one's there to hear Connor's yelp. Connor has the palms of both hands flat against the wall bending over with his ass up a little. I guess Dodger taught him that much anyway. Not intending to, I smack his ass again before lining my cock up with his asshole and then I need to take a deep breath 'cause looking at his hot bare ass I'm getting more and more sexually aroused by the minute. Connor's moaning quietly, looking back at me as I hump the wet head of my boner in past his sphincter muscle and I'm shocked at how tight it is. Connor looks straight ahead now, his back arching as he goes, "Aaaah, mmm, oooh." Not sure what that means, I whisper, "Does it hurt?" He shakes his head, mutters, "Fuck no, it feels good." I'm not sure he's being truthful about that. It's like he wants to get fucked so badly he might put up with any amount of pain, and I don't want to hurt him. I wait a little bit while rubbing his back and massaging his shoulders. When he seems more relaxed I thrust my boner up his ass another two inches and hold my breath to keep from moaning at how sexy and awesome that felt on my cock. Then, "Mmmm," slips out of me anyway and I do a little shudder
After a twenty second wait, I hold onto his hips and slowly push my cock the rest of the way up his ass with my shoulders doing their shuddering for real now, and Connor arching his back more than I'd have thought possible as he moans, "Aaaah, that feels so good." I take his word for it and pull my boner back slowly and then push it back in a little faster. He grunts, moans, and then goes, "I'm gonna cum," so I stop everything, calmly saying, "Hold on Connor, it'll pass." He takes deep breaths for maybe a minute, then mumbles, "It's passed, Dylan." I wait a little bit longer, then hump against his buttocks without pulling my boner back and he moans, "Ooooh, aaah." Wiping the sweat from my face I realize how hot it is in here with the ocean breeze blocked. Connor goes, "Go ahead, Dylan," so I withdraw my dick slowly again holding my breath because it feels so fucking good to me too. The head of my boner is super sensitized and my nuts are getting hard. Another slow trip back up his ass gets me shuddering again and then I try a steady thrusting, not too fast, but steady and I hear my favorite sound, "Slap, slap, slap, slap," with my belly slamming into Connor's ass and him moaning and moving around with his head hanging between his arms. His arms are straight out supporting him against the wall of this little enclosure as I get really into it now and while I want to give Connor pleasure my cock is so alive with sparkling nerve endings I need to get myself off too.
Three minutes of steady fucking with me staring at my hard cock as it disappears up his ass and then reappears as I pull it back and then right back up his ass again. I don't think I could stop now even if Connor complained it was hurting him, which thankfully doesn't appear to be the case. "Slap, slap, slap," sounds and an ocean of pleasure coming off my boner, especially that super sensitive head. Fuck, this feels so good I'm sucking on my lips moaning along with Connor now as the "Slap, 'slap' slap," sounds pick up speed and it becomes all about me now as my orgasm grows and I start slamming into him harder and faster, grunting, "Mmmm, ' with each thrust until Connor lifts up doing a whizzy, "Eeeeee, ooh," his hips humping forward and a long stream of his spunk splattering off the wall, then another gagging sounding, "Ahgggg," with another stream of cum shooting from Conner's hard boner. I keep plowing his ass making whining sounds myself that are very much like Connor's a minute ago. When your orgasm comes on you it's like you need it right this very second! Connor's body is still stiff as he takes a hand off the wall to stroke his cock fast. I slam into him, and without pulling my cock out, I'm humping against his butt cheeks doing as controlled a squeal as I can managed as my cock quivers pouring cum into Connor's bowels. I'm blinking my eyes shocked at the intensity of that orgasm, then hump against him again with another sizzling steam of cum leaving the ridiculously sensitive head of my hard cock. I shudder and gasp, then thrust wildly thrust in his ass a while longer as we both do quiet moaning, his chest and hands up against the wall now as he's almost standing, but still pushing his ass out. Oh this feels good so I do a half dozen more thrusts as my orgasm buzzes around my groin and my balls drop down away from the top of my scrotum. With my cock up his ass I lean against Connor hugging around his stomach with both arms and the side of my face against the back of his head. We stay motionless except for deep breathing for a minute or so before I back up pulling my cock from his ass, which makes my shoulders shudder again. I watch my spunk drooling out of his asshole and running down the back of his legs. Connor just lays against the wall.
"You okay, Connor?" He nods his head, then turns around leaning his back against the wall. "Yeah, I'm good, but my climax was so strong, so forceful it burned my pee hole streaming out and, well um, it scared me for a second. That's the best climax I ever had." I squeeze his shoulder, "Me too, Connor." He grins, "Liar, but thanks. Can we do it again?" I laugh, "Yeah, but not now. Hey, you do me next time, how about that?" I'm looking around for a rag or something to wipe the cum off the back of his legs and his butt cheeks. He says, "Um, would you do me again. I like that best, but if you tell me to, I'll do the other part." That makes me chuckle, "No, you're the Army boy and you get to have it your way. I'll be more than happy to, " and I almost say 'fuck', but instead say, "Do you again." Connor doesn't like to think of 'it' as fucking. I can't find anything in here to wipe spunk off Connor with, so I pull up his bathing suit and pat his ass seeing the cum soak through the material. I shrug and grin, then wipe the obvious cum off the back of his legs with my hands. "Let's get outta here, Connor."
After pulling my swimsuit up and taking a peek through the slit in the louvers, seeing no one, I open the door and out we go. The back of Connor suit is wet but he could have sat on something wet. My hands though are sticking with cum so we walk around to one of the outdoor refreshment stands where I grab a handful of napkins and do what I can with then wiping the spunk off my hands. I say, "Lets go in for a swim," and he says, "Sure, um, thanks,
Dylan. I feel so, I don't know, so happy and other stuff too, but it would
embarrass me to tell you how much this really means to me. Thank you... you know..." I smile at him saying, "Me too," although I don't know exactly what I'm agreeing with him about. I'm sure it's something nice though because it's Connor.
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com donnymumford@outlook.com
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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are three books of mine published and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for next to nothing. The books are under ten dollars. Three book about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. Please at least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.
Donny Mumford
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