DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR
Chapter 75
By Donny Mumford
During our dinner Monday night at Bertucci's Robby and Ryan bitched about the two hour review class they had to endure earlier today. Two hours is agonizingly long, and without a break too, but making matters worse the review ran twenty minutes overtime. Brown-nosing assholes kept asking the professor questions that related only to the person asking the question. Those questions should be asked one-on-one with the professor in his office. Listening to my friends bitching and griping I consciously avoided any sign of a snicker or smirk from me because of course I was laying around the apartment following doctor's orders, so didn't attend that class. We finish dinner at eight-thirty and after dropping Ryan off at his dorm, Robby gave me a sexy bath. What a sexy luxury being bathed by my lover. Yeah, but because of my concussion we weren't able to have sex after the bath. We both got sexually aroused obviously, but super-conscientious Robby said we need to wait at least until the forty-eight hours is up before doing it. So my concussion was a big plus for me, and then a big minus.
It's weird the way I've had tons of sleep since hitting my head and yet I'm tired again tonight. I sleep right through the night, another twelve hours of sleep... nine-thirty pm to nine-thirty am. Getting out of bed Tuesday morning I cautiously test my condition by moving my head around a little to see if the dizziness returns. When I don't notice any I get a little reckless and do that fast up and down head nodding, like a bobble-head doll. It's what I sometime do when I'm emphatically agreeing with something Ryan tells me. Ryan used to do that in the early days when Robby told him something, and then later Ryan did the fast head nod when I'd say something like, 'Ryan, ya wanna sneak off and have a little sexy play?' Somewhere along the way though he became the Alpha dog in our relationship and now when I want to please Ryan I'm the goof doing the fast head nods agreeing with him. I kinda like doing it and watching him happily grinning. It doesn't take much to make Ryan happy. Anyway, there's no dizziness so I'm encouraged by that, except Robby comes out of the bathroom, frowning and asking, "Why are you nodding your head like that?" I go, "Testing for dizziness," and he grins, "So, you're feeling better this morning?" I go, "A lot better, Rob. The dizziness appears to be a thing of the past, and man, I'm grateful for that because feeling dizzy is very disorienting, making me feel weak and helpless." I mention only positive signs that I'm getting back to normal, so I don't mention it's too fucking bright in here.
Like me, Robby's wearing only his boxer shorts and he looks sexy so I sort of lean against him. He hugs me murmuring, "I was worried about you, babe. It's a relief you're feeling better. All that sleep you've been getting is exactly what you needed. Don't get overconfident though and overdo it today. Continue to take things nice and slow." He gives me another hug, murmuring, "Jesus, you had us all scared Sunday night." I'm looking at Robby's face up close, and to get off the topic of my concussion, I go, "You're getting a mustache, Rob, and chin whiskers too." He's chuckling, "Yeah, you mentioned that before and I told you it's more like fuzz than whiskers." I go, "Well it's a good start. Maybe you'll be like Ryan and seemingly overnight you're growing a sparse beard. As for me in that regard, forget about it." He rubs my head and then hugs my head kissing the side of my forehead, murmuring, "Why all this interest in whiskers?" I shrug, "Because they're sexy of course." He laughs, "You used to hate whiskers and body hair." I say, "Rub my head some more, that feels good." He uses both hand rubbing my scalp with his fingers, mumbling, "You like being touched more than anyone I've ever known." My scalp tingles as I say, "Yeah, I guess I do."
We do a little mini make-out wearing only the boxer shorts we slept in. Robby's bare body against mine feels so hot and sexy and smooth. Oh man, I love that! Eventually we get dressed in loose fitting clothes with baggy sweat pants and oversized sweatshirts. We'll be sitting through two review classes today so we need to be comfortable. Some students come to class wearing pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, but that's a little 'much' if you ask me. Anyway, after today we have only one more formal review class. It's a bit of a stressful time because all three of us want the 3.0 GPA for our entire sophomore year. Wednesdays have been free days for Robby, Ryan, and me all throughout our sophomore year, but Robby will probably have us reviewing during our day off. Danny has two of the same courses we have so he'll be part of our study group for those courses. Robby's mostly been the driving force making sure we make the most of the study groups. Many college students approach finals using the cram-all-night method of studying for exams. I think they do it that way because it's cool to bitch about an all night cramming session, and it's also sort of a college tradition, but a dumb one.
I'm in the kitchen making coffee when Chubby walks out of his bedroom wearing only jockey underwear, yawning and absently scratching his balls, "Mmm, that coffee smells good, brother. How ya feeling this morning?" I give him the mug of coffee I made for myself, then we hug and do a kiss on the lips real fast, both of us with peppermint breath from just having brushed our teeth. "I'm feeling much better today, Chub. How ya doing?" He puts light cream in his coffee, then three sugars, cheerfully saying, "I'm feeling fabulous, bro, and very relieved my big brother is recovering from that nasty concussion." I put another K-cup in the coffee brewer and it begins brewing another mug of coffee. Chubby says, "Hey, get this, bro. I saw a septic tank truck on 114 yesterday with a sign on the tank that read, 'Yesterday's meals on wheels." I frown, "That's disgusting, Chub... Jesus, septic tanks are gross." He laughs, "Yeah, a better motto for a septic tank truck would be, 'This truck is full of political promises'." I yell, "Chubby! Please, I have a weak stomach this morning and I do not want to have a vision in my head of bull shit in a tank." He goes, "Oh, I'm sorry, bro. How about a little maternity ward humor. Like a sign on the door to the maternity room that says, 'Push, Push, Push.'" I mutter, "I don't get it," and Robby comes out of the bedroom just as my mug of coffee finishes dripping through the K-cup. Robby says, "The coffee smells good," So I say, "It's for you, Rob." Walking by Chubby, Robby rubs his head as they both say, "G'morning, dude." Handing him the mug of freshly brewed coffee, I finally make my own mug of coffee and sit next to Chubby at the kitchen bar to drink it.
Chubby's slurping his coffee, and after the third slurp, I stare at him until he laughs, asking, "What?" and I say, "Don't slurp, Chub, it's rude." He goes, "The coffee's too hot," and I'm like, "Well then, wait until it cools a little. Next thing I know you'll start eating with your mouth open." He makes a funny face at Robby who's grinning at our teasing exchange. He's used to Chubby's and my 'tic for tat' bantering. I add, "And fer chissakes, Chub, put some fucking clothes on." He gets off his stool grinning mischievously then hugs me from behind, saying, "It looks like my beautiful big brother needs to teach me some fucking manners. I don't wanna make a slob of myself out in public and embarrass him." I go, "Yeah, okay, I'm being an asshole again, is that what you're saying? Sorry if I sounded like a snob, Chub." He squeezes my shoulders, "You couldn't be a snob if you tried, Dylan." I go, "Thanks, Chub, and you can slurp to your heart's content as far as I'm concerned, and make all the mouth noises you want when eating naked with your mouth open. I'll love you anyway." He hugs me tightly, cheerfully saying, "Ah yes, words to live by, bro, but I think I'll take your first words
of wisdom and pattern myself after that Emily Post-ish etiquette advise you gave me." Robby and I grin, slowly shaking our heads because Chubby's always upbeat and full of energy, even most mornings.
When he sees Chubby and I are done with our little teasing episode, Robby mumbles, "How do you do it, Jeff? You're always 'up'." Chubby pops a pop tart in the toaster, saying, "Why be glum? It's easier to be happy and enjoy yourself, especially now that my beloved brother is on the mend after that accident that would have incapacitated guys twice his size." That makes me laugh, "I don't think size has much to do with it, Chubby. Well, maybe if someone's head was twice as big as mine the bump on the head might not have affected him like it did me." Chubby's back on his stool slurping on purpose now, then he goes, "Oh, by the way, bro, I need a haircut sometime before you take off on that bogus Georgia trip." Robby says, "Me too, Dylan, I want to lose the ponytail and get in my summer-job frame of mind, and before the three days of meetings I'm having this weekend." I say, "Okay, haircuts tomorrow when we don't have course reviews?" Robby's like, "Tomorrow's good," and Chubby says, "Tomorrow's good for me too, Dylan. Have your people coordinate with my people and decide on a time. I have a study group at three o'clock Wednesday so we'll need to work around that." Robby says, "Heh heh, I'm gonna freak the guys on the team out with my new look. I'm thinking maybe I'll go with a flat top for old time sake." I'm putting my mug in the dishwasher as Robby confirms what I already assumed, when he says, "You know we're having a study group Wednesday, right Dylan?" I mutter, "Of course, Rob," thinking haircuts tomorrow will be fun, although I can't say the same for the one Ryan's giving me Thursday.
Robby and I drive the short distance to Merrimack and after parking the pickup he needs to be at the baseball office to sign some papers. Something to do with next year's liability insurance. I watch him jog off admiring how graceful and coordinated he is. I wonder why that doesn't translate to his dancing technique. It makes me smile, loving him all the more that he's not perfect at everything. I wander over to Ryan's dorm figuring I'll hook-up with him and walk to the Rodger Center together. As I'm approaching his dormitory I see him coming down the steps alone. Stopping in my tracks, I stare at him for a minute feeling my nuts tighten up. He doesn't know I see him as he stops to look at his reflection in the first floor's glass door. The way the sun's hitting the glass Ryan sees an almost mirror reflection of himself. He looks around, then stares at himself patting his pompadour with his fingers, then he takes out a pocket comb and adjust his preppy haircut paying special attention to his silly little pompadour. Just for shits and giggles Dodger and Vinnie had me replicate Ryan's preppy haircut. They were especially intrigued by the nineteen-fifties-ish pompadour. I've been kidding Ryan about his since he came back from Easter weekend with the preppy haircut, the one he got to please his dad. Ryan's looking at his reflection and combing his hair carefully. Finally he's satisfied with it, but continues staring at his reflection. He takes off his backpack, then his sweat shirt and looks at his reflection again. His t-shirt is tucked in his jeans and he apparently doesn't care for the way that looks so he pulls the tail of his t-shirt out and stares at how that looks for a few seconds. No, he doesn't like that either so he tucks it back in and puts his backpack on, then drapes his sweatshirt over his shoulder, casual like. One last touch of his hair pushing the pompadour down just a tad, and he's satisfied with his appearance. I'm grinning through this whole routine, a routine I've been through myself a thousand times. I'm guessing he didn't want to do all this primping in the lavatory because of the other guys that were in there with him. Too funny!
I'm letting him get a few yards ahead before I jog up calling, "Ryan, wait up." He stops and turns around and gives me his special smile making my knees feel weak. Sometimes this 'thing' I have for him overwhelms me. With my dick feeling funny, I stop a few feet short of him, like I don't know what to do. Still smiling, he goes, "Hi, Dylan! Good morning! How do you feel today." I shuffle my feet, hating myself for acting like a geek. He asks, "Any lingering concussion symptoms?" I mutter, "Uh huh, but not much of anything. I feel fine." Gathering myself, I go, "And you're looking fine too, Ryan. That pompadour is so cool," and he makes a face, "Oh, that stupid thing, I don't even bother with it anymore." Taking the last few steps to him, I quietly say, "It looks perfect to me." A we stare into each other's eyes he wets his lips moving the tip of his pink tongue slowly across his lips from left to right. The he puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes a little causing a sizzling sensation to zip up my spine. I shudder slightly as my nuts change places, bang together, "Is anything wrong, Dylan?" I shake my head, "Um, wrong? No, like I said, I'm feeling pretty good." He smiles, "I'm glad of that, but you're acting kinda weird, ha ha." I go, "Yeah, I do that sometimes."He looks around, then grins, "So, do ya wanna make-out a little this morning, we've got the time. You know, we can have a little morning make-out like we used to before working on the lawn cutting crew?" I nod my head up and down real fast, feeling like a fool, but I can't help myself. Ryan laughs, "You nut. Okay then come on," and he takes my hand looking around, but there's no one in the vicinity. He pulls on my hand and I follow him around the side of the building we're next to and find steps leading down to a little landing in front of the basement door. It's a cement stairwell, and our heads are below ground level when we're at the bottom.
I'm kinda in a fog standing here watching Ryan drop his backpack and sweatshirt, then he stares into my eyes reaching over to slide my backpack off, half a smile on his face. Unable to catch my breath, I'm doing quick little breaths and then I lean against him hugging and clutching him. Our faces rubbing together and our noses slide against one another. Oh my god, he smells so good and his curly soft short scattered beard makes me shiver and grope my package. Our lips meet and we get into a wild make-out with whining sounds of sexual desire from both of us. Spit spreads all around our mouths, my fingers are in his hair destroying his meticulously combed preppy hairdo. Oh fuck, he feels so good I'm clutching his hot body humping into his humping hips, then we grind together while Ryan licks up the front of my nose grabbing and letting go of my buttocks and pushing a finger against my asshole while pressing his crotch against mine.As sexual arousal grows and an orgasm builds and builds, dizziness rears it's ugly head again. Gasping, I whine as my body gets stiff. I go, "Oh, oh, ahh, oh Ryan," and squeal with cum pouring into my pants. Another desperate hump with my forehead on Ryan shoulder and his arms around my back. I'm moaning as more cum shoots from my hard cock. Ryan begins rubbing my back, "Shh, shh, someone will hear you, Dylan, shh." I'm limp, hanging onto Ryan now while a tilt-ya-whirl of an incredibly sexy orgasmic sensations buzz around my groin.
After catching my breath, I murmur, "You're so hot, Ryan, but goddammit I didn't want to cum in my pants. How am I going to go to class with wet cum soaking through my khakis?" With a hand on both my shoulders he holds me away from him and we look down. Sure enough there's a spreading cum stain all around the zipper of my tan khaki pants. Ryan says, "Wow, you were really horny." I mumble, "What do you expect? I've had no sex for days." He chuckles, "Days, huh? Come up to my dorm, there's a clean pair of your khaki pants hanging in the closet. You left them there." I go, "Really? When'd I do that?" He goes, "I forget the details but you probably shot off in your pants then too so I lent you a pair of my boxer shorts and sweatpants." I go, "Oh, are they yours? I wondered where they came from." Ryan's getting his backpack on as I ask, "You washed my khakis?" He shrugs, "Sure, I threw them in the washing machine with mine." I get my arm around his neck and hug him against me, the side of our faces together, "Ryan, it's like I can't control myself around you sometimes. You're so, oooh, I can't explain it. I love you and can't get enough of you at times." He mumbles, "Yeah, and I love that you feel that way, Dylan. It's not a bad thing, ya know?" I go, "I know, but oh man, I got it bad for you, and it's getting worse. I'll probably jump in your lap at your house during one of the Sunday dinners after we get back from church." He grins, "I hope so," and he rubs my head affectionately, mumbling, "I love you too." I'm getting myself under control by now, and wow, that orgasm felt good! Ryan helps me get my backpack on and we retrace Ryan's steps back to his dorm. Inside his room we find Freddie's still in bed. He's pulled the covers over his head, saying, "Bloody bollocks, Ryan, I'm trying to sleep, mate." Ryan mutters, "Dylan's had an accident." Freddie pulls the covers off his head and gets up on an elbow, "Oh it's my mate, Dylan, is it? Sorry 'bout your troubles. Hey, what kind of wanker goes to sleep on the sidewalk anyway?" I go, "Good question, Freddie. Oh I, um, spilled coffee on myself." He says, "Well, you're having a bit of bad luck the past couple of days, but keep your pecker up. Spilling coffee on yourself, heh heh, there's nothing posh about you." I mumble, "I guess not, ha ha," not sure what he means by that. Taking my pants off I turn my back and drop my wet underpants taking the pair Ryan's holding out for me. Putting them on Freddie's chuckling, but doesn't comment on me changing my pants right in front of him. I'm emptying the pockets of my cum stained khakis while looking at Ryan, still feeling aroused by him.
Ryan says, "Yeah, Freddie, for sure Dylan's had some bad luck. Sunday night was actually scary." Freddie goes, "It sounded scary when you told me about it." Then he asks, "Were you sloshed, Dylan?" I go, What, Freddie? Sloshed? Ya mean drunk? I wasn't falling down drunk, no. A little hammered is all." He asks, "Did that twat on the sidewalk wake-up?" I'm pulling the freshly laundered khakis on, mumbling, "Twat? Um, it was a guy, but he didn't wake up, no." Ryan says, "We gotta run, Freddie, or we'll be late, so this will have to be the end of your twenty questions this morning." Freddie laughs, "You cheeky bastard. See you boys later." We wave as Ryan slams the door behind us and we run down the steps. As we're hustling to the Roger's Center, I go, "Freddie's a cool guy, isn't he?" Ryan goes, "Yep, that's one more thing I need to thank you for... hooking me up with him as my roommates. He is a bit of a slob though leaving his shit all over the room."
We get to the Roger's Center before Robby. Ryan's doing some repair work on his hairdo and as for me, I'm staring at him again thinking he's so sexy hot and yet I can't exactly put my finger on why that Is. It has to be a combination of things that together I consciously find sexy about him. Contradictions too, like him wearing those little round glasses and he's kinda small and therefore would normally be considered a little nerdy, but instead of nerdy he appears sexy to me. He's got good hair too, and cute facial features, but I don't know how that adds-up to sexy. It must be something I've subconsciously decided is sexy, for unknown reasons. He's likable, but so are a lot of guys I don't have the hots for. Then there's another huge contradiction of him being submissive in every meaningful sexual relationship he's ever had, sometimes acting super submissive, but with me he's always been dominant. I even noticed a little of that the first time he fucked me, and he continued getting more dominant until reaching the pinnacle just before last summer. He's consciously toned down his dominance although he's always been the 'top' during sex, and the leader in our relationship. I think he's probably developed the perfect balance between being in charge and dominant during sex, without being mean or hurtful about it, and without humiliating me in any way. In fact he professes his love for me and has nothing but compliments for me. It's become mostly inferred that's he's in charge because he hardly ever acts like he is. It could be I'm projecting onto Ryan how I want him to be. Oh, what the hell, didn't I tell myself a little while ago that I'm going to stop analyzing everything to death. I feel the sexual hots for him, and does it matter why? I think he's sexy and I'll leave it at that. And oh yeah, there's his huge cock too. Can't forget that, or the fact he knows how to use it.
Robby comes running up two minutes before class starts and we make it to our seat in front and get our notebooks out before the professor clears his throat and begins. Then follows ninety minutes of unbearable boredom except for the fact it's becoming increasing apparent to me that I know this shit. That's a good feeling knowing I'm going to do very well on the final exam. We have lunch and then sit through another two hours review class for our three days a week course. Then a little after three o'clock we're finally done for the day. Robby has baseball practice so Ryan and I drive to the apartment in his Mini. We kill some time drinking Snapple on the balcony as Ryan's smokes a cigarette. I still don't feel confident that my concussion symptoms are totally gone, which is why I'm not smoking. Ryan's laying on the outdoor chaise lounge telling me about a trip to Boston he's making later today with Freddie. I'm leaning against the railing looking at him, but not paying much attention to what he's saying, until he goes, "Oh, did I tell you I can get us some weed if you want some." I go, "Oh, no thanks. I tried it and decided I like booze better." He shrugs, "Well, I won't get any if you don't want it, but Freddie does weed often and I join him for a joint or two once in awhile. I kinda like it as an alternative to drinking. You get mellow from a joint without a hangover." We argue a little about that because coming down off a drug high can be a bitch too. Ryan claims he's only experienced that problem early in the semester when he was overdoing the weed. I ask, "Ya wanna go down and watch baseball practice for awhile?" He says, "Yeah, okay," but he looks awfully comfortable laying there.
I'm staring at him again and then can't resist drifting over, grinning and then laying on the chaise lounge with him. Actually I'm laying on my stomach, half on him and half on the chaise lounge. He's on his back chuckling at me with his fingers playing with my hair. He murmurs, "I gotta tell you, Dylan, I really love the way you're always touching me and looking at me with a look of love in your eyes. Eyes don't lie, ya know." I snuggle in a little tighter and he puts his hand behind my head pulling it to him as he leans down to kiss my lips and then rub my head, asking, "You feeling any better about us spending this summer together?" I put my arm across his chest and lay the side of my face half on his shoulder and half on his chest, the side of my forehead is against his cheek with his soft curly sparse whiskers giving me a tiny thrill. I mumble, "Yeah, I'm feeling better about it every day. I mean as far as you're concerned because I trust you totally, but I'm nervous about how your parents will accept me." He says, "I guess I'd feel the same way if I was staying with someone else's family, but I'm going to be looking out for you, especially where mom and dad are concerned. I'll make sure you're comfortable." We lay like this in the late afternoon sun on an unseasonably warm May day, warm for New England anyway. His body feels good and I can smell his scent, the one I like so much, coming through his t-shirt. The side of my face is partially on his left pec and it feels hard, but comfortable too.
Of course, in this position it's inevitable we get into another hot and heavy make-out, breathing hard, after which I tell Ryan, "I haven't had sex in like weeks it seems. So, pretty please would you give your boyfriend a quickie?" Ryan insist the forty-eight hour curfew on exertion isn't up yet and so his answer is, 'no'. With a boner in my pants I sit up acting a little pissed-off, and Ryan goes, "What'd we say about pouting? And I'm looking out for your welfare, Dylan. Anyway you got over exerted from our make-out this morning." There's firmness in his voice and yet he said that with a smile and it just hits me the right way. I can't help but smile a little, muttering, "I'm not pouting," and lay back down, half on him again. He goes back to running his fingers through my hair and I could lay like this for quite awhile except it's getting me too horny and he won't have sex so it gets frustrating. He's horny too I'm guess because I feel his big boner against my hip. Finally he mutters, "Maybe we should mosey on down to watch a little of the baseball practice." I go, "I'm good laying here with you. A little more of us squirming together and I'm hoping for a spontaneous climax." Ryan slides out from under me and stands up, saying, "Well, babe, I'm gonna watch the boys practice for awhile. I should probably be there anyway being their gopher. You're welcome to join me." Fuck! I get up too. "Okay, okay, I get it. I never get my own way anymore. Swell!" He laughs, "You don't have to come, Dylan." I go, "I know that, but I wanna go with you. It was my idea in the first place. I was just saying it was nice laying with you, that's all. Jeez!"
During the short ride back to campus I don't say anything, and as Ryan's negotiating the parking lot at Merrimack, driving down to the baseball complex, he says, "Are you sure you're ready for a summer of not having things just the way you want them?" I shrug, "Whatever," and Ryan goes, "It'll suck for me if you're going to be giving me the silent treatment every time you hear the word 'no'. It'll be miserable for both of us." I take an exasperated noisy deep breath, muttering, "Yeah, I hear ya, Ryan." He parks, asking, "Well, are you going to at least try to be nice about it?" I look at him, "I'm trying now. I came with you, didn't I?" He says, "We'll chalk this up to you being tired and irritable because of your concussion. The symptoms are obviously lingering, and I suppose it takes a while to get over them. Ya know, major league baseball's protocol on concussions requires a minimum of seven days on the DL." I'm like, "Okay, you win. You're right in both cases... I'm acting childishly irritable, and my mild concussion is still affecting me. I'm not normally this grumpy, so i apologize." He goes, "Hell, I'd be a bigger pain in the ass than you ever could be if I had a concussion. Come on, lets walk down to the bleachers."
We watch the guys practice for an hour and then I hate admitting, "I'm tired, Ryan. Could you drive me back to the apartment? I wanna lay down." He says, "Absolutely, and I'll stay with you. You know, at least until Robby or Jeff get back." I trudge up to Ryan's Mini freaked out a little about how tired I am. Fucking concussions, huh? In the apartment I lay on top of the covers of my bed and go to sleep. I fall asleep so fast I'm not even sure if Ryan laid down with me. I'm hearing voices from the living room when I wake up. It's Chubby, Robby, and Ryan laughing. After washing up in the bathroom, trying to wake up fully, I walk into the living room feeling weird. The three guys give me smiles, hugs, and a few kisses. Everyone's encouraging me by saying I'll be over this thing in no time. It makes me feel good, but I'm still worried about symptoms getting worse, so I don't join the guys drinking a beer. They're having beers from the twelve pack of Rolling Rock Chubby got from John Beverly, who's not with us tonight. Neither is Danny so it's just the in-crowd, which Ryan's become a part of lately. I wish I was feeling as good as my friends so I could join in with their wisecracks and laughing. To be honest they sound a little too loud to me, but I know it's my concussion and not them. It's also too fucking bright in here, but I know it's only too bright for me. Feeling like I do makes me realize I take my good health for granted, only appreciating it when I don't have it. Chubby makes spaghetti and his own meatballs for dinner, along with Italian bread and a salad. I eat okay but I'm feeling out of sorts and I'm just going through the motions with the guys the best I can until I can get back in bed. This blows!
I miss out on the forty-eight-hour sex eligibility Tuesday night with Robby because I'm sleeping. Wednesday morning Robby's up and dressed before I wake up. I'm definitely feeling better this morning, and while drinking my mug of coffee I join in with Robby, Ryan, and Chubby making plans for our day. Chubby's got the three o'clock study group he mentioned yesterday. The rest of us have a study group planned for eleven this morning. We'll do the study group and then have lunch. After lunch I'll give Chubby his haircut. He assures me, "I'll be back by two o'clock at the latest, Dylan." Okay, so I'll do his haircut while Robby's at baseball practice. I ask, "You want a haircut after practice, Rob?" He goes, "Yeah, if you don't mind, and Danny asked me to ask you if he could get a haircut after me." I nod, my head, "Sure, no problem. Um, what time are you heading back home tomorrow afternoon, Rob?" He shrugs, "Around four o'clock if I can get my shit together. It's a noon start for our last game so I should be ready by four. You're coming with me, right?" I nod, "Oh yeah, fer sure. Um, will you be busy Thursday night?" He says, "Yeah, I'm afraid so. There's a big meeting Thursday but not about summer landscaping. It's about the condo project." We've made our plans so Chubby takes off just as Danny's coming in the front door for our study group. Chubby bumps fists with Danny on his way out, and then the remaining three of us all give Danny a kiss 'hello'. He smells good and he has super kissable lips so I glance at him as Robby gets out the study materials. Danny looks at me with what I interpret as a shy grin as he's running his fingers through his hair, "Dylan, did Rob, um, mention about me getting a haircut?" I tell him that Robby did tell me and of course I'll give him a haircut. Robby gets the study group going as I'm thinking, Danny's looking good and I like that he's shy around me sometimes.
As we plod along with the review I'm inconspicuously glancing at my fellow compatriots deciding they're all good looking and/or kinda cute. A person's good looks or cuteness is subjective of course, person to person. Maybe there are some misguided people who wouldn't agree with my assessment of my three cohorts' appearances, but those people would be wrong. Then I hear, "Dylan? Is that what you'd check off for a multiple choice question?" I look at the guys looking at me, and mumble, "Sorry, I'm having a little trouble concentrating. Can I take a break?" I see Ryan start to say 'no', but Robby's goes, "Of course, Dylan, why don't you lay down for fifteen or twenty minutes." I nod, "Yeah, if you don't mind, Rob." They're eyes follow me as I walk into the bedroom. I feel like a creep because I'm able to concentrate, I was purposely daydreaming about, what else, boys, guys, young men... whatever you want to call them. After laying down for ten minutes and beating myself up for that sneaky move, I get up and proclaim my head's clear, and then I pay close attention during the last hour of the study group.
It's ten after one when we're finally done and it hits me that this is our last real study group of the year, and even better all our formal review classes are behind us. It's like a weight's lifted off my shoulders... whoa, a feeling of freedom. Okay, we'll still do short review before each final exam, but then we're done with our sophomore year. It's like I can see the light at the end of the tunnel now. I'm antsy for this year to be over, but damn, I feel good right now. None of us feel like buying lunch meat and rolls to make our own lunch, so McDonalds it is. After lunch Ryan gets a lift back to his dorm. Freddie and him are taking the Mini into Boston. Something to do with Freddie's family. Danny and Robby heading for their last practice of the year, and I'm left here in the apartment waiting for Chubby and feeling okay, feeling pretty good actually. Chubby does not get here by, 'two o'clock at the latest', like he said he would, but I didn't expect him to. I always allow a half hour on either side of any time Chubby gives me as 'the latest'. He's not a person who's a slave to punctuality and that's a trait that won't serve him well in the real world, but he'll smile and BS his way out of any trouble his tardiness causes him. At two-thirty on the dot he pops in, grinning and excitedly exclaiming, "I made it on time, bro! Ya know, being on time for stuff has been on my 'to do' list as a New Year's resolutions, and I'm doing awesome with it too." I'm grinning along with him slowly shaking my head at his convoluted logic. He charges across the room and does an exaggerated hug and kiss. I say, "Hey, that was nice, Chub. Remember when you were hesitant to give me brotherly kisses? Isn't this better?" He looks puzzled, "Um, I don't recall ever being hesitant about giving my beloved brother a brotherly kiss." I laugh because he's full of it, I had to get him used to kissing me. I'm like, "Oh, my mistake," chuckling to myself and loving Chubby being Chubby.
When I've got the clippers, guides, comb and scissors laying on a hand towel lined-up on the kitchen bar, Chubby and I go into his bathroom for the shampoo part of his professional men's salon treatment. I go, "Jesus Christ, bro, how many towels do you own?" There are at least six or seven bath towels scattered around the floor among various discarded clothing items. Chubby says, "Oh, just kick that shit out of the way." I can't help but laugh, "Chubby I can't even drag this straight back chair in here." He mutters, "Well, you and Robby took the room with the biggest bathroom." We go into the 'biggest bathroom' where nothing's on the floor except the bathroom mat in front of the shower stall. Chubby takes his shirt off and sits in the chair that I have facing away from the sink. He goes, "Go nice and slow with the shampoo, Dylan, you know I love this part." I love it too so I do a slow shampoo occasionally doing a vigorous scalp massage. Chubby is quiet for once as he enjoys being pampered. His eyes close and his body's relaxes, and he has a tiny grin on his lips. I was like that when Robby shampooed my hair at the start of last night's bath. Finally I've got to rinse out the shampoo and then to extend the experience I rub in hair conditioner. Nothing but a couple of contented sighs from Chubby. After rinsing out the conditioner and partially drying his hair with a towel, I finish drying it with the hair dryer, When done I lean down and give him a five second kiss on his lips. Without opening his eyes, he murmurs, "That was nice, bro." I love Chubby and if he was agreeable I'd have sex with him any time he wanted. A couple of years ago we'd make love together on very rare occasions, but I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed now.
We go into the kitchen where I have a stool pulled away from the bar to the edge of the tile area. This way the hair clippings land on the tile for an easy sweep up, and not on the carpet requiring a vacuum cleaner to get then up. Also we're far enough away from the kitchen so no clippings land where food is prepared or eaten. Chubby's last haircut, like Tracy's, was a duplicate of the haircuts Ryan's been giving me. Like Tracy, Chubby tells me he wants the hair on top to grow in more. Unlike Tracy, Chubby wants the bare clippers on the sides and back again. It's a style I see more and more on professional baseball players. Kids emulate their favorite professional baseball players, so soon you'll be seeing more and more high school kids with this type of haircut. Actually I noticed this style first on NFL players. I started noticing it last year and it's becoming the 'in' thing for the style conscious male. Ryan doesn't know it's a style thing though, he just wants a very short haircut on me to remind me who's in charge. Fuck, short haircuts aren't a new concept to me because Willie started the short haircut stuff with me two years ago and probably further back than that. Often the dominant partner in serious sub/dom sexual situations, and even more so in master/slave relationships, insists the submissive person rock extremely short haircuts. Most of the guys I know aren't aware of any of that though.
Chubby likes the so-called white-wall sides because he's a little style conscience and because he likes to be different, but mostly he likes it because it's the haircut I've been getting. He buys the clothes I buy, gets his ears pierced because I got mine pierced, and he almost got a nip ring like mine before I talked him out of it. He's been like this since we were seven or eight years old. It's a contradiction though because it's me who idolizes him, so I should be emulating Chubby in all ways instead of the other way around. Whatever, I enjoy using clippers without a guide so I'm glad my bro asks for that. I'm taking the cut high up on the sides and back of his head like Chubby wants it. When I've done using the clippers there's very little I can do to blend the longer hairs on top with the basically absence of hair on the sides and top. The contrast is the whole point. Not a style I prefer for myself if I had my choice, but one that's fun to cut. The problem with this haircut is it's over too quickly only taking about five minutes. I'm brushing the clippings off Chubby's shoulders as he gazes at himself in the handheld mirror, saying, "Cool! This is such a cool look, Dylan. I'm rocking with style now, bro!" I mumble, "I wouldn't consider this my favorite haircut, Chub." He looks startled, "Well, why do we get it then?" Ha ha, he said 'we', but I don't want to go into the reason I have this haircut because Chubby will get pissed off at Ryan. I say, "Because it's unique for one thing, but now gaining popularity so I wanted to see if I like it on moi. I'll probably go for it a few more times before making up my mind." That right there was little white lie dangerously close to three thousand for me, but that's better than the alternative of explaining that I have this haircut because Ryan insists on it. Chubby goes, "Well, I really like it so I hope you keep getting your haircut like this too," and he feels the side of his head, mumbling, "It feels like fine sandpaper," and I go, "Uh huh, it does. Um, Chub, I hope you aren't rocking' this haircut just because I am." He looks startled, "What? Of course not, bro. Maybe I get the idea from you sometimes, but like I said, I like this haircut, it's cool!"
After putting his sweatshirt on Chubby pats my shoulder, saying, "Thank you, Dylan." Then he asks, "You're definitely visiting me and the moms sometime this summer, right?" I go, "Absolutely and probably more than once because I know I'm really, really going to miss everyone, especially you, Chubby." He goes, "Ditto for me, Dylan. Anyway I'm not getting a haircut until your visit. No way I'm breaking the eleven or twelve years tradition of my bro cutting my hair." I go, "I hope not! Ya know, it's like I miss you already." He's serious for a second, "I guess I agree with what you told me when we had the talk the other day, you know... about you going with Ryan. It might be good for your growth and all, but I hope you know I'll be thinking about you everyday I don't see you. It's still you and me, Dylan, forever." I say, "Of course, Chub, we're still the greatest best friends and brothers the world has ever seen," and we hug again. He mumbles, "Hard, it's going to be hard without you, but maybe it'll be good too." He rubs his nose, "I'm getting a little emotional here, Dylan. I don't want to get all maudlin on you or anything." He pats my shoulder, "How about we get a beer?" and that's what we do. My first beer since Sunday night. It doesn't taste any better now than it did Sunday night, but drinking it with Chubby as we reminisce about way back in our childhood, that makes the beer taste fine.
Just as we're finishing the beers Chubby gets a texts, then asks in a serious way, "Um, is it okay if I use the Jeep, bro? John Beverly needs a ride to our study group." I burst out laughing... he always uses the Jeep without checking with me. Oh god, I've got tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. Chubby's chuckling along with me, and then asks, "What? Why are we laughing, bro?" I laugh again, then take a deep breath. Holy shit that struck me as so fucking funny, I go, "No, I don't mind at all, Chubby. As a matter of fact I think it's your turn anyway." He goes, "Yeah, I think you're right again, Dylan," Another hug, "Thanks for the haircut, Dylan, but mostly thanks for being you. Love you, bro." I rub his head, mumbling, "See ya later, Chub," and he's on his happy way. I sit on the balcony surprised that I'm not feeling tired. Ten minutes later Robby and Danny come in and join me on the balcony. We give each other a kiss 'hello' and I realize somehow that I'm finally feeling a bond developing between Danny and me. Sort of a brotherly, friendship bond rather than a side-sex or lover bond. Without jealousy clouding my judgement I can see Danny for who he is, and he's a damn nice guy who goes along in a friendly, unassuming manner without making waves. Robby and Danny take turns telling me about the last practice and how all the teammates were sort of 'down' because the season's over for all intent and purposes. I can see how tight a team becomes and I kinda miss being on a team. I got a taste of it with the posse boys, both the good and not so good aspects of it, but mostly it was a good feeling belonging to something. An idea occurs to me and I say, "You know what I'm gonna do next year, guys? I'm going to try out for the Merrimack college paper." Robby goes, "Awesome idea, Dylan!" Then he tells Danny that I was the editor of our high school paper, and he and I met because of that. Being on the newspaper staff is sort of like being on a team. I'll make some new friends too.
After awhile, I ask, "Ready for your haircut, Rob, and if so are you still mentally prepared to lose that ponytail?" Robby says, "I'm more than ready for that, Dylan. Like I told you before, long hair is a pain in the ass and now that I've rocked the ponytail a few months I don't need to do it again. Just wanted to see what's it's like and now I know." I mumble, "A ponytail hasn't been an option for me in a couple of years." Danny asks, "Is it okay if I turn on the TV?" Robby goes, "Sure, Danny," and as Robby and I walk down the hall to our bathroom, I ask, "What kind of haircut will be replacing the ponytail?" Robby says, "For a trip down memory lane how about if you give me a flat top?" I go, "Oh, you were serious when you mentioned that earlier, huh?" He says, "I wasn't really sure about it then, but I am now." I go, "No problem, seeing you with a flat top again will sure bring back some memories for me." He takes off his shirt and sits in the shampoo chair, which is actually a desk chair. First I undo the elastic around his ponytail and then comb through his long hairs. Then, using the short hose with the spray attachment, I thoroughly wet his hair. Robby says, "Sorry I didn't shampoo my hair in the shower this morning, Dylan, but I was running late." I mutter, "No, problem, Rob."
When his blond hair is wet I pour on lots of shampoo and work it in good. Robby's eyes go to the side, sort of looking up at me, giving me a grin with a look of love in his eyes. I lean down and kiss him sweetly on his sexy candy lips for thirty seconds or so. He smiles and lays back closing his eyes. Everybody does that, closes their eyes I mean, not the look of love in their eyes part. I'm glad most guys feel relaxed and comfortable having me shampoo their hair. When I first started the shampooing last summer some of the guys didn't feel comfortable at all, although most feel good about it by now. With Robby there's lots of suds and hair to run my fingers through. I do that for awhile, every minute or so leaning over to kiss Robby's face here and there. He grins every time but doesn't open his eyes. Maybe he's afraid he'll get shampoo in his eyes. What a handsome young man Robby's turning into. He's losing some of his youthful cuteness, but he still qualifies as 'cute' in my mind, although now I guess most people would describe him as handsome. Movie star handsome if you ask me. Sexy torso too, all pinkish/white now but by the end of June he'll have a nice tan from using his family's pool and from being in the sun all day on the job. I'll be missing my tan working in an office all day, and the Wilcox's don't have a pool.
After rinsing Robby's hair and rough drying it with a towel, I finish with the hairdryer leaving his blond hair shiny and clean. He's losing the two tone blond aspect to his hair. It's become mostly all blond without the lighter steaks that my hair still has. Guess we're not the Bobbsey Twins anymore. Boo hoo! Back in the living room Robby asks, "Wha'cha watching, Danny?" He says, "An afternoon Sox game. They're losing eight to nothing." Robby shakes his head, muttering, "They suck this year," as he sits on the barber stool. Using the awesome scissors Tracy gave me I comb up a bundle of Robby's clean hair, hold it between my index and middle fingers, and then slice through it with the scissors, "Crunch," and a lot of seven inch long hairs slide down Robby's back. It's, "Crunch, crunch, crunch," for five minutes reducing all the hair on his head to about an inch and a half. The hair all over his head is even now and it looks like a buzz cut that's grown out for a couple of months. Robby runs his fingers through his hair, "Feels good not to have all that hair, Dylan. Um, since I won't be getting another haircut from you for awhile, make it a short flat top, okay." I mutter, "Sure thing, Rob," and feel my dick move as my haircut fetish grabs hold of me. Cool! Love me some haircut fetish.
Putting a three-eight inch guide on the Oster clippers I run them up the sides and back of his head taking the clipper all the way up to the spot that just begins curving to the top. After all we don't have square heads. Well, most of us don't anyway. Some block heads being the exception to the rule. There's been so much silky blond hair sheered from his head, sliding off the clipper blades and over my hand to land on his shoulders, lap, and back before most of it continues down to the floor that it's giving me a boner. Not the hard bracing boners I get during sex, but a nice feeling slightly throbbing tight cock I need to adjust a little bit in my pants. As inconspicuously as possible I move it sideways. Danny's back is to me and I'm mostly behind Robby, so I manage to get my boner sideways in my shorts without anyone noticing. My boner's content being sideways, but would prefer sticking up poking out the lap of my khakis .
Done the sides and back of Robby's head the hairs there are looking extremely short compared to the hair on top. I use clippers over comb to blend in to the hairs on top. Next I comb up top hairs and run the clippers across the comb reducing them to an inch. Since Robby's hair has been laying flat for months it naturally lays flat on his head now, so I put gel in his hair and brush it back until it's sticking up all over the top. With a steady hand, holding the clippers without a guide, I start at the front and run the
clippers back through his hair leaving just under an inch long hairs in front and gradually going shorter moving towards the crown until at the crown the hairs are only a quarter inch. This is a short flat top and won't looks it's best for a few weeks, then it'll continue looking good for a few weeks and after that before becoming more and more shaggy looking. Then he needs another haircut and I hope he waits for me to give it to him. It only takes five passes of the clippers to cover the top of his head. The hair is completely even across his head, flat if you will, and therefore the name 'flat top'. Someone with less skill could really fuck up a flat top by not having a steady hand to do each pass exactly the same as the one before it. There's some more cutting I need to do, some additional blending before I'm ready to use the trimmer clippers outlying around his ears and tapering the
neck's hairline. "There it is, Rob, a short flattop." He feels the hairs on top, asking, "How long will I need the glop in my hair training it to stand up like this?" I tell him, "In the past it took about a week and then you won't need the gel. Your dry hair will stand up by itself."
Robby and I brush loose hairs off his shoulders and lap, then he stands up as Danny turns around to look, and yells, "Holy shit, Rob, that is so fucking short! Oh my god, do I have the balls to get one like that?" Danny said that in a kinda shrill voice with his hands doing something funny. Huh, he seemed gay to me for the first time. I wonder if Danny will gradually pick-up some stereotypical gay affectations as he gets older? That probably depends on the gay guys he hooks up with, not that there's anything wrong with gay affectations. It'd be kinda cute seeing Danny acting more gay. None of us gay friends acts stereotypically gay, but that doesn't mean we never will. I don't think I ever will, but others might. I can't see Robby getting like that, but it wouldn't shock me if Ryan developed some of those affectations. This is the first time I've given a thought to any of my gay friends 'acting gay', like some straights say. Danny made me think of it though. Observing Danny's reaction to Robby's flat top just a few seconds ago, I wonder... if I didn't already know he was gay, would I suspect he might be from the way he says things and moves his hands and head? Danny's has his arm around Robby's waist as he's feeling the short hair on the back of Robby's head, still going on about the haircut, "Oh my god, I've never had a haircut this short. What do you think, Rob, should I copy you? Would you mind?" Robby laughs, "Why would I mind, Danny? Get whatever haircut you want. Dylan's better than any barber I've been to be so you're in good hands." Now Dan ny's hugging Robby with both arms, saying a muffled, "I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it." Muffled because his face is against Robby's shoulder with Robby blushing a little and looking anywhere but at me. Danny lifts his head and kisses Robby on the mouth, then turns to look at me, asking, "Can you give me the same haircut, Dylan?" A flash of jealousy whipped through me when Danny kissed Robby, but only for a second. I smile saying, "Of course I can, Danny, but first a shampoo."
Robby's looking at himself in the mirror that's over the sofa, and then with a shrug he plops down to watch the game while continuing to feel the hairs on the back of his head. Don't blame him, it's a radical change. In the bathroom I can tell Danny is still a little uncomfortable having me shampoo his hair, although I'd think he'd be used to it by now since I've been his barber the past five months. Maybe he's nervous about getting the flat top and it has nothing to do with the shampoo. In any case, after a quick shampoo he still wants the flat top. For his flat top I don't need to use the scissors first because he has fairly short hair to start with. It's a couple of inches long on top, but certainly nothing comparing to Robby's ponytail. Skipping the scissors, I follow the clipper cutting I did with Robby on Danny and it takes only about ten minutes to finish. I pat Danny's bare shoulder, saying, "All done, Danny boy, a replica of Rob's flat top." He jumps up to look in the mirror, but I grab his arm, "Wait, Danny. You'll get hair clippings on the carpet." I pass him the hand held mirror, "Look at yourself with this while I brush the cut hairs off you." I brush the clippings from his shoulders and back while he stands still moving the mirror around trying to see as much of his new haircut as he can. I give a thought to brushing the hairs still clinging to his lap, but decide not to, saying, "Danny brush your lap." He does that then goes over to grab Rob by the shoulders and turns him enough so Robby can see his flat top. Danny says, "We're like a pair of twins, Rob," and Robby stands up getting an arm around Danny's neck, going, "I didn't think you'd go through with it, dude. Let me look at you."
With his flat top, if anything Danny looks younger and a little cuter too. Huh, Robby and Danny sure look happy with each other, grinning and rubbing each other's head. They make a nice looking couple actually. Then Robby steps away from Danny, and says to me, "Thanks, Dylan, these haircuts are so retro they're actually cool. Don't ya think?" I nod, "Yeah, I guess. They're definitely twin haircuts." Robby sort of bites his lip, undoubtedly remembering when he and I were called twins. I smile at him to reassure him every things alright between us, and he says, "I wanna treat you to dinner tonight, babe. Okay?" I glance at Danny, so Robby says, "Danny's got plans for tonight," and Danny says, "Yeah, me and my roommate are going out to dinner too. It's sort of an early break-up dinner. He's been a good roommate so we're hooking-up as roommates next year too." I'm glad to hear that because it wouldn't have surprised me if Danny asked in on an apartment with us next year. For something to say, I mention the obvious, "Well, you're both lucky roommates then. Too many students, guys and girls, feel their roommate's are the negative part of their college experience." Danny and Robby do most of the clean up, sweeping the cut hair into a pile as I'm cleaning and putting away the barbering stuff. We use a dustpan and brush to transfer the pile of hair from the tile floor to the trash bin.
Danny leaves shortly after that and Robby says, "Come on and sit with me on the sofa, baby. Let me tell you how proud of you I am about something." I sit down and look at him with a questioning expression on my face. He takes a deep breath, then goes, "Um, you handled Danny's and my rude display of affection very maturely. Throwing our side-sex partners affection in each other's face is not something you and I do, or we shouldn't do it anyway." I shrug, "It's not a problem, Rob, really. I probably do worse with Ryan in front of you, and if so I apologize to you." He takes my hand and pulls me so I'll sit next to him. "No, you're too classy to do that to me, Dylan, I'm the one who's been guilty of that bad behavior from time to time." I go, "Please, let's not rehash any old unpleasant memories. They're in the past and we've both been guilty of making poor choices occasionally." He gets his arm around the back of my neck pulling my head over, murmuring, "Okay, you're right. That's all in the past. Um, I know Danny went a little overboard this afternoon and I'm going to have a talk with him about that. He was overly excited with his flat top because he's had the same haircut since grade school and it was a big deal for him to get this haircut today. A major change for him." I say, "Like I said, it's not a problem, Rob." He nods mumbling, "Thanks," and all I can do is shrug.
We watch the TV a bit while Robby bites on his bottom lip, then asks, "Um, do you like Danny?" I go, "Yeah, sure, I like him, Rob, why?" He traces the pad of his finger down my nose, saying, "I don't know, I guess I'm asking for your approval of him. He's no Dylan Newman and he never will be, but he's a good guy. Oh fuck, I guess what I'm really asking is if you're mad at me for hiring Danny on the crew this summer and, ah, you know letting him stay with me?" I raise my eyebrows wondering how to respond to that, but Robby goes on, "I know that's what made you agree to let Ryan talk you into spending the major part of the summer with him. I take the blame for that and I'm sorry." I go, "Well, me deciding to try something new in Georgia isn't just a Danny matter. There's Seth to think of too. Him filling my spot on the crew is important to him because the company doesn't need him for maintenance and repair during the summer. Not after he worked all winter getting everything set up for this summer, and all the equipment in tip top running order." Robby takes a deep breath, "Yeah, there's that for sure. Seth needs the money, but do you think you might be able to reassure me that we're still good, Dylan, you and me? And we'll still be good when you join the crew in August, and Seth goes back to his real job?" I say, "Yes, I can reassure you of that, Rob. I'm not letting you get away from me."
He hugs me and I see tears in his eyes, not that they're rolling down his cheek. To change the subject, I rub the short hairs on the back of his head, asking, "Did I do the flat tops too short for you and Danny?" He laughs, "Yeah, they're pretty short alright, but I love mine because you did it," and we kiss a long lovers kiss that gets a boner growing in my pants. It's a much harder boner than the one I got from my haircut fetish. Robby hasn't put his shirt back on after his haircut and my hands are rubbing over his back loving the feel of him. When we break off the kiss and the sides of our
faces are together, I hear his deep breathing, and mine too. Our hearts pound fast against each other's chest as Robby's hands go to the bottom of my
sweatshirt and pulls it up and over my head with me mumbling, "Don't mess up my hair." We both chuckle at that ridiculous comment and then, bare chest against bare chest, we make-out sweetly, not wildly out of control with desperation kissing... just sweet tender loving kisses. We both know we'll drag-out our love making as long as we can so there's no sense of urgency Robby's scent is so wonderfully familiar and sexy I inhale it whenever we come up for air. Mostly we're sucking each other's tongue and lips and doing French kissing and then licking around each other's mouth exchanging so much saliva it's impossible to tell who's spit's in who's mouth. It's dreamy in a much different way that I get dreamy from sub/dom sex. This is unmistakably lover's love-making and it's very different thing.
We're gently almost wrestling with each other as we kiss trying to feel as much of the other's body against our own as we can. Breathing deeply, his face red and a little sweaty, Robby murmurs, "Should we go into our bedroom? Your brother might come in." I nod my head and hold Robby's face between my hands to kiss him passionately, then quietly say, "You and me together into the sunset, Robby. You and me together forever. That's the way it'll be when everything is said and done, and the last wild oat has been sown." He smiles and this time tears do roll down his cheeks, "I needed so badly to hear you say that, Dylan. Thank you." When I see a guy cry, even if I don't know him, I relate to him and so I have a few tears of my own rolling down my cheeks too. We both wipe at each others tears, grinning at each other. I mumble, "Don't get emotional, Robby, you know I can't resist joining in and we'll be bawling like little kids before you know it." He nods, grinning
harder, mumbling, "You big baby," and I go, "You started it." We get up and walk down the hall with an arm around each other's waist.
In the bedroom Robby kneels down on both knees to untie my sneakers, I lift my food and he pulls the sneaker off, then the sock. Same thing for my other foot. Still on his knees he unbuttons my pants and pulls them down, then my underpants with my boner bouncing. Taking my boner in his fingers Robby puts it in his mouth and sucks on it while moving his warm wet tongue around the head. I make a squeaky noise as my buttocks and stomach muscles tighten on their own. Robby doesn't do a lot of cock sucking, mostly I do it for him. I'm unaware what Danny and Robby do together though, so maybe Robby's acquired a taste for it now. I know I've had a taste for it from about three years ago. I love sucking a young guy's cock, any size. Robby's technique is basic cock-sucking 101, but that's plenty good enough to get me grunting and squeezing Robby's shoulders having a hard time standing still as the nerve endings in my penis sparkle and shine with pleasure. Adding to the sizzling sensations his sucking is causing on my boner, I'm looking at his handsome face as he's totally concentrating on what he's doing, a concentration he gives to everything he's does, and that ups the sexual arousal in me. When he's got my boner sticking straight out of my body, taut and barely moving, he backs off my cock with my precum around his lips. Licking it off with his tongue he looks up into my eyes as he stands. I rest my arms on his shoulder and lean in for a kiss with my tongue in his mouth swapping some saliva for a taste of my precum.
We're in quiet moods as I get on my knees and do everything Robby just did starting with untying his sneakers. He gasps when I take his cock in my mouth and use a little technique I've developed over the years of frequently sucking cocks and it gets Robby's cock bone-hard and fat in a minute and a half. There's a nice glob of precum on my tongue when I stand up and we wrap our arms around each other and kiss with his tongue in my mouth sliding in his own precum. Kissing until the precum's been swallowed; then, still not talking Robby, has a hand on each of my shoulders turning me around and I automatically bend over. He murmurs, "Lay your chest on the bed," so I do that with my arms stretched out in front of me. He adjusts my position by pushing me tightly against the end of the mattress. My ass is at the end of the bed, my boner sticking up between my stomach and the mattress. I push my ass up looking back at Robby who wets a finger and pushes it up my ass with my buttocks muscles clenching on their own, my inside and outside sphincter muscles doing the same. The silence seems to ring in my ears and adds to my anticipation. It's been a few days since my favorite cock, or any cock for that matter, has explored my rectum and I'm anxious to experience it again.
Robby leans against me with his finger up my ass as far as it can go. He pulls it out and adds the middle finger pushing both fingers up there with his hard cock leaning on, and pointing up against my left butt cheek. I go, "Mmm, oooh, ummm," as Robby works his fingers back and forth in my ass massaging my prostate. When I'm squirming and moaning, he takes his fingers out and lines up the head of his cock. My face is on the mattress now as I strain to get my ass up at the right level for Robby to mount. His cock head spreads the lips of my asshole steadily. It feels so fucking fat my back arches so he puts a hand on my back, fingers spread as if to hold me in place for my fucking. Putting pressure on my back he humps his hips, driving the head of his cock past my sphincter, grunting, "Aaah," and then a long, "Ooooh, yeaaah." Both hands are flat on my back now just above my buttocks as Robby forces his boner inside me with me gritting my teeth as the walls of my rectum are stretched more than they appreciate and complain by causing pain, but only momentarily. They've been through this a couple of times before and quickly get with the program and relax allowing a warm spread of pleasure up and down the four-plus inches of my rectum, the part that's currently occupied by Robby's hard fat organ.
Another, "Oooh, umm, ooh," from Robby as he leans against my ass and grinds his hips before a slow withdrawal that has me humping against the end of the mattress, moaning, "Mmmmmm, oooh, ummm," then he pushes it back up my ass with my back again arching again as my body shivers with pleasure. Robby takes a hand off my back to give my ass a few underhand smacks that don't hurt so much as they get me tightening the muscles in my groin and lifting my head, going, "Oh yeah," and three harder smacks, "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" and then the sounds of males fucking, a steady ,"Slap, slap, slap, slap," sound bouncing off the walls of our bedroom and I can feel my orgasm already accumulating in my nuts. Robby continues steady semi-hard thrusts up my ass with my nuts getting harder and harder as they move up towards the top of my scrotum. I'm rocking on the bed now unable to keep tract of the swarming sexual sensations in my ass and around my anus. Nerve endings never stops pumping out pleasure as his cock slides tightly over my prostate and past the lips of my asshole that are gripping Robby's fat hard boner as it moves back and forth inside me. I never stop quietly moaning with pleasure at the sensations bursting from uncountable nerve endings.
I'm thinking my climax is just about here with the steady, "Slap, slap, slap," sound continue ringing sexually in my ears. That applause sound for males fucking adds something to the our sexual act making it seem even more intimate that our bodies are colliding steadily, "Slap, slap, slap," and ,"Ooh, ooh, ooh," from Robby, to go with my, "Mmm, umm, umm." The deliciously sexy thrusts of his cock up my ass is what's causing all the fuss, that awesome hard fat cock of Robby's. Just when I'm into the desperate whining stage before climax, Robby pulls his cock completely out, and murmurs, "Turn over, baby," and he helps me do that with a hand on each of my hips. When I'm on my back, my asshole vibrating at the edge of the mattress, I lift my legs bending them at the knees and spreading them. Robby spreads my legs a little further apart, then slides his slippery cock back up my ass and humps me fast and hard leaning over me, his face over mine with a hand on the bed next to both my shoulders, and it's a faster, harder, "SLAP,SLAP,SLAP!" I squirm on the bed doing desperate whines again as the need to climax builds and builds until it's here. My back arches painfully, my body gets scarily stiff and I gasp humping my hips and squealing while moving my head from side to side on the bed as cum's shooting straight up in a long stream that reaches it's peak, seem to stay there a fraction of a second before dropping down creamily on my chest. Another squeal, my eyes closed absorbing as much of the indescribably awesome sexual sensation that I can as more cum pumps up from my nuts and is ejaculated out my steel pipe of a penis. Robby gasps, humps into me and holds his groin against my buttocks, grunting, "Ahhh, oooh fuck," as he humps against me moving me an inch or two back on the mattress with each hump. Then with his face scrunched-up, Robby shoots his creamy load of semen inside me and it feels a little warmer for a second and then it's all kinds of sloppy inside my bowels as Robby gasps, then drops his head down on my chest and my arms go around his sweaty head with him doing three more hard humps against me before his body goes limp.
He moves up my body so his head is next to mine with his cock pulling out of my ass to lay wetly against my thigh. My cock is pressed between us along with cum squishes between our chests. We both breath nosily for a bit, then I feel Robby's forehead next to mine and he feels hot. I put a hand on his forehead, "Robby, you have a fever." He coughs, saying, "I've had muscle aches too so I guess some asshole's transferred his cold or flu to me somehow." I say, "Jeez, your last game of the season is tomorrow. Can you play, do you think?" He mumbles, "Yeah, I'll play. This is nothing." I'm worried about him and I'm worried that his 'nothing' might be in me now. Not from his spunk, but from us exchanging spit. We lay together hugging for awhile until Robby says, "That sex with you was about the best I can ever imagine having. It's so much better with you, Dylan. Nothing else can compare." I murmur, "That's what I love to hear, Robby. And right back at you." He nestles against me a little bit more for a few seconds, then mumbles, "Lets take a shower together. Whaddaya say, babe?" I mumble, "Well, I say that's a good idea, Rob," and that's what we do, although it's a rather quick shower with no sex. After drying ourselves, Robby says, "I'm taking you out to dinner tonight," but I'm like, "Nope, I'm cooking dinner for you and Chubby tonight. I need to take care of my boyfriend when he's sick the way you took care of me." Robby says, "I'm fine, Dylan. Text your brother and I'll treat him to dinner too." I look at Robby, then ask, "Are you really okay? I mean you're not so feverish you don't know what you're saying, right? Do you realize you just said you're to buy us dinner? I mean, really? " He grins at me, "I am not cheap? Why does everybody say that?" I go, "Stereotyping, Rob. You know, just because you're tight with a buck, right away people call you cheap. It's a cheap shot is what it is." He laughs, then goes, "Oh fuck, I've been found out." We kiss, then he's like, "Dylan, do what I told you, I'm in charge and I say I'm buying you two brothers dinner." I say, "Yes, boss," and he mumbles, "That's better, I'm in charge until you tell me I'm not," and he chuckles a little, giving me a smile.
After getting dressed, I text Chubby and he text back that he and some dudes are celebrating the next to last Wednesday of sophomore year, so fuck a whole bunch of dinners, but thanks for the invitation, and we should join him tying a load on. That's paraphrasing his text, which was rather a rambling one so I guess his celebrating is moving along quite nicely. Maybe I should be concerned that Chubby's overdoing it. I'm not though because I have ultimate faith that he knows what he's doing and can take care of himself. He can take care of himself with one hand tied behind his back actually. Chubby's the last person I need to worry about, although I do worry sometimes. Robby buys him and me a $82.00 dinner at Burton's, and that's without alcoholic beverages running up the bill, so we obviously ordered the most expensive stuff on the menu. We're both in good spirits all through the meal. We stay away from discussing us being separated this summer, instead sticking with reminiscing about our long love affair that we both know is as strong as ever, and that's true no matter that each of us is spending the summer with our side-sex lovers. As we walk out of Burtons with me thanking Robby, he says, "We're both crazy you know. We've found each other and know we have true love for each other, but we're continually doing everything we can think of to fuck up what's already perfect." I shrug, "We can't help ourselves, Rob."
Robby and I sleep in each other's arms as usual, but his head feels hotter than normal. He definitely has a fever, but when we wake-up it's Thursday morning and that means Robby's playing second base in the last game of the season. He leaves for the baseball complex the usual two hours before the game, meaning ten o'clock in the morning in this case. We kiss goodbye and I promise to watch him play. Ryan calls five minutes after Robby leaves, saying, "I'll be over to do your haircut in ten minutes. After that we'll watch Rob's last game of the year, and I guess after that you'll be going home with Rob." I say, "That's the plan, Ryan. Um, can I put in one last plea for an alternative haircut, please?" He goes, "No, I'll be there in ten minutes. Have the barbering stuff laid out. Do I need to give you a shampoo?" I go, Yes, boss, on both items you mentioned: I'll get the barbering things out for you, and I want that shampoo." He says, "Love you," and I go, "You too,"
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com donnymumford@outlook.com
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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are 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. They are 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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