DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR
Chapter 79
by Donny Mumford
Spending Friday night at home is one of my more brilliantly conceived ideas. It's Saturday morning now and I'm laying in my own bed alone. As a consequence of staying home watching a ball game last night, I'm well rested this morning, I don't have a hangover, and my ass feels fine. The immature notion that guys my age need to party Fridays nights simply because it's a Friday night is not thinking outside the box. I analyzed the situation and realized I needed to be fresh today for my lunch with the moms, which will happen in a couple of hours. I need to be on my 'A' game at lunch if I'm to adroitly handle all the questions they'll bombard me with, especially the ones about my plans for a summer in Georgia. Then tonight I need to be at my best for my date with Robby. He deserves a boyfriend who's alert, bright eyed, and eager to please his man. Trying to handle either of those two situations hungover and/or tired would have been social suicide on my part. So big deal, to be at the top of my game today I sacrificed a Friday night out on the town partying and having playful buddy-sex with some cute sexy guy. There were two factors assisting me in this bold self denial: firstly, there's the small matter of me not having a car, so I couldn't go out on my own if I wanted to, and secondly no one with a car at their disposal called me to invite me out. Of course hardly anyone in town knows I'm here, so there's that.
Heh heh, chuckling to myself as I lay here in bed thinking those self-deprecating thoughts. Yeah right, me thinking outside the box, that's me alright ... not! Actually though maybe I should give myself some credit because I could have texted some guys and probably hooked up with someone, but I didn't do that. Mostly I didn't because my ass was sore and I was really tired. Still, I did give some thought that I need to be on my toes at lunch today, and I do want to have a really good date with Robby too. I mean we're winding-down to D-day. It's like twelve days until Ryan and I drive off to unexplored territory for me. It'll be the first time Robby and I will be apart for more then a week since our first kiss. There's been a couple of spring breaks and two summer vacations in Wildwood, but that represents the total number of times Robby and I have been separated for as long as a week. Now it'll be between five and ten weeks depending on when I can get home for a weekend visit. So there's good reason for me to make each date with Robby between now and then as special as I can for him. While getting out of bed there's an unnerving thought zipping through my mind... final exams in two days. Damn, that's definitely hanging over my head although I've never been as well prepared for finals as I am this year. That's partly thanks to Robby's annoyingly consistent study groups, and partly because I've been more conscientious about everything this year as well. After all, getting good grades is partially the reason for going to college. You know, to prove to potential employers I can follow directions and have enough self discipline and smarts to learn the material. Of course if I'm going to work for Robby after graduation those considerations become mute points, but maybe I won't work for him and then I'll need good college records for my resumé. Damn, I should have joined some team or club during high school. Yeah, but I can put
some made-up high school activities on my resumé, who's going to check what you did in high school.
Before taking a shower I put on an old CD by 'The Counting Crows'. I want to start thinking about the music rather than continuing to think about reality. It's another brilliantly conceived idea because I think of nothing worthwhile throughout my shower. The last song on the CD plays as I'm finishing getting dressed. When the CD shuts off the apartment is deadly quiet. I plop a K-cup in the Keurig coffee maker and hear the low hissing sound of the water being heated to the perfect temperature for brewing coffee. The moms won this Keurig machine as a consolation prize in a raffle. One of the waitresses at work was selling raffle tickets for her son's middle school football team. Friggin' school board makes the parents pay for their kid to be on the sport teams. The moms said it's the first time in their lives they ever won anything. Tris has been leaning towards tea lately, which is why this machine is down here in our condo. That's a shaky reason though because there are K-cups for tea. Oh well, the moms know what they're doing. Anyway, when Chubby brings the Keurig we have at college, both condos will have one.
I drink my coffee and smoke a cigarette on the balcony thinking about the suit Willie bought for me yesterday. I should never have mentioned I need a new suit to him because obviously he'd insist on buying it for me. I'd hate to think subconsciously that's why I called him. I know damn well it wasn't a conscious thought. I still feel lousy about it though and I pray he doesn't think I called him expecting him to buy it for me. Damn! Okay, that wasn't a brilliantly conceived idea... the suit thing. Taking out my cell phone I call Willie and get his voice mail. Guess he's still sleeping in some expensive New York hotel. I leave a message telling him how grateful I am for the suit, but that I had no intention of him buying it for me and I'm going to pay him back for the suit if it's the last thing I ever do. There, I feel better. Yeah, but I'm a little pissed-off too because now I've got a $3300 debt which I wouldn't have if I just got the fucking suit at Kohl's like I planned. Huh!
Of fuck, now I feel stupid leaving that message for Willie. What's he care about the money! My mom interrupts this disturbing train of thought by coming out on the balcony, saying, "Hi, sweetheart, why the sour puss?" She bends over to kiss my cheek, as I say, "Good morning, mom. Um, I needed a suit to wear to church this summer and..." she interrupts, "Oh, that's so nice. Your friend, Ryan, goes to church and you're going too. Tris and I tried getting you boys to go to Sunday school when you were seven or eight years old. I forget why it didn't work out for very long." I say, "It was Chubby, mom. Remember he'd get sick just about every Sunday morning? He claimed he was allergic to the air freshener they used in the basement of the church where the Sunday school classes took place." She laughs, mumbling, "Yes, now I do remember something like that," and she laughs some more, probably remembering her and Tris' discussing the situation back then. Her laughter winds down to a chuckle as she mumbles, "You two were very clever boys. The enjoyment you both have given Tris and me over the years, well I can't even describe how wonderful it was, and still is. Ya know, honey," and she bumps my shoulder, "Tris and I saw through you and your brother's antics more often than you realize, but we wanted to encourage you two to be autonomous. It's because of the situation we all found ourselves in. I mean with Tris and me working most of the time you boys were home, we both felt we had to encouraged you guys to act independently of us and we gave you the freedom to do that. It wasn't a fair deal for any of us, but necessity is a hard task master. You guys from an early age had more responsibility heaped on you than was fair, and us moms missed out on a lot of time with you two all those years. It only worked because you and your brother were and are a very special team. You two made it work from an early age. Very few boys of any age could have dealt with things the way you and Jeff did." She's tearing-up now, mumbling, "The good judgement you guys showed at such a young age was remarkable." She gives me a big shoulder hug with a kiss on the side of my forehead, murmuring, "We love both of you to death."
Well, after hearing that I think I'll skip over the $3300 suit situation involving me and Willie. That might be misconstrued as not showing the best judgement possible. Paying $3300 for a suit to wear to church nine or ten times might seem an ill-conceived plan. I go, "Oh mom, no worries, Chubby and I had a blast growing up together." She smiles, "Yes, the two best friends the world has ever seen. That's what I believe you two claimed you were. Tris and I heard that quite a few times, like maybe a million." I blush a little, "We were only kids, mom, fer chissakes." She chuckles, "Yes, dear, I know you were, but it was so sweet hearing that from you little guys. Tris and I would tear-up, oh my God we were so proud of you two." Of course Chubby and I still say that to one another, only now we add, 'best friends and brothers the world has ever seen'. It's probably a little creepy saying that at our age, I mean to anyone other than each other. It's our 'thang' and nobody else's business. I mumble, "Oh man, the embarrassing things we did as kids, huh?" She pats my shoulder, "You've never done anything embarrassing that I can recall." I roll my eyes, muttering, "Thanks, mom," and she goes, "I mean it," and she sighs, "Well, Honey, I better take my shower now and get ready to go out. I'll only be about twenty minutes and then we'll see if Tris is ready. We're thinking of taking you to Bertucci's for lunch, or some other place if you prefer." I say, "Bertucci's is awesome, mom. Whenever you're ready."
Mom goes inside as I chuckle because there's no way in the world she's going to get ready in twenty minutes, although she sincerely thinks she will. While waiting I'm laying on the chaise lounge enjoying a nice warm sunny day while texting Robby and Ryan. Robby text right back that he's at the new office site and the place is spacious. The financial meeting just broke-up for a lunch break. Everything is going better than his dad expected and so everyone's in a positive frame of mind. He'll pick me up tonight at seven instead of six and he ends with, 'Love you, Rob". Huh, Robby's been in a businessman's frame of mind going on three days now. I admire him for being able to do that. He's not only able to do that, he likes doing it. Jesus, he's special. That gets me thinking again about marrying Robby and eventually being a stay at home dad. It almost gives me a boner thinking about that. My role would be submissive to Robby, but I try being like that for the most part now, so no big deal. When married it won't be a submissive like in a sub/dom sexy way as it'll be in an unspoken loving married way were I'm mostly attentive to Robby. After all he'll be supporting and taking care of us,
his family. It sounds very appealing to me at the moment, an almost carefree life where Robby basically will have all the responsibilities. He's the one who can handle responsibility stuff too. We should have stayed engaged instead of breaking off the engagement. It's probably partially my fault we put the engagement on hold. I think I brought up the possibility and Robby quickly agreed, or it went something like that.
You know what I'm thinking right now: I'm thinking this summer very well could cement Robby's and my plans for marriage. I can clearly see how much I'm going to miss him, and how important he is in my life. The wild oats to be sowed will become less and less important to us, I can feel it happening even as I'm laying here. I just know it! Both of us are going to be surprised how quickly side-sex buddies fade away in our lives. Plus, Ryan will be bossing my ass around all summer, I know that too, but that's okay because by contrast Robby being the boss when we're married will seem mild. By nature Robby's not the real bossy type, but last summer he was like the perfect boss on the job, it's his natural leadership qualities that will help make him the perfect head of the household too. Jeez, I feel so much love and admiration for Robby right now, it's almost like a sexual thing. That's what it'll always be like when we're married. I can see myself waiting for him to come home after work and kissing him 'welcome home', then over cocktails
we'll tell each other about our day. His day at work and my day taking care of the baby and everything else on the home front, whatever that might be. It'll be perfect.
As I'm daydreaming about Robby, Ryan replies to my text saying he got a call from Felix inviting him to a party tonight. He asks how I'm doing, and we text back and forth for ten minutes or so before he gets a call from home and we end our texting. Huh, Ryan. He's something too, but different than Robby in many ways. Well hell, I'll see if he's the almost perfect boss this summer and compare it to Robby of last summer. Yeah, this'll be an interesting comparison. Unfortunately I don't see a lot of natural leadership qualities in Ryan. Certainly not like Robby, but I'll keep an open mind about that and see if I'm surprised. Ryan can do the in-charge sub/dom sex better that Robby, but how about being in charge during our every day life, and on the job too. That remains to be seen, but like I said, it'll be interesting. Fuck, I might even learn something. Looking at my watch I've got to smile because it's been almost an hour since mom went in for her 'twenty minutes' of getting ready to go out. Lighting my second cigarette of the day I get a text from Bean, who heard from Sonny I was in town. He wants a haircut so I tell him to text me back around four o'clock. Huh, Bean. I had a little thing for him last fall when Ryan and I were sort of on the outs for awhile. It was a misunderstanding that we resolved and then I guess it was sort of callous of me to just forget all about goofy Bean. I don't know what my
attraction to him was in the first place, other than his long skinny dick. Maybe it's how naive he is, or how clueless he is without him realizing it. Wonder if he's still sucking up to Ray? There's someone I have no desire to hook-up with. Ray's still my biggest mistake. How the fuck did I rat ionalize that he was hot, cool, and dominant. For a short time I couldn't get enough of him. That was some kind of rationalization right there, plus Ray has a mean streak in him too. He was into humiliating me when he could. Said it was payback for those years I mocked him. Fuck, my mocking was all in good fun, heh heh. Yeah, but it wasn't very nice of me. The other thing is, Ray loved being dominant but only until I pushed back, and then he reevaluated the situation. I guess he's basically sort of a bully without being aware of it. He has some good qualities though, I gotta be fair about it. Anyway, whatever I felt about him has totally flown the coop now.
Glancing in through the sliding glass door I see my mom's finally ready to go out. She's in the living room talking on her cellphone. I get up and wander inside just as she's saying, "Okay, Tris, we'll meet you at the car." Mom smiles at me, asking, "Ready, dear?" and I go, "Yep, mom, I'm hungry for some Italian food." At the car I get a big greeting from my second mom, Tris, and the hugs and kisses that go with that. Both moms are very demonstrative about showing affection, and not just to Chubby and me. Everyone gets a hug from them. They're always smiling with a nice word for everyone and I can't remember either of them ever raising their voice in anger. Amazing! At Bertucci's, because the moms are going to work later this afternoon, they only have two glasses of wine with lunch, while I have none. No big loss since I'm not crazy about wine in the first place. It's a long lazy lunch as meals tends to be at Bertucci's because the service is on the slower side. During this long lunch I should have counted the number of questions I was asked about my upcoming summer, it would be a high number. I gave answers and reassurances that I felt would eliminate any worries the moms might have about me being a stranger in a strange land this summer. My answers and reassurances were made up on the fly of course, not knowing the actual answers to most of their questions. Questions I hope I remember to ask Ryan. The moms even discussed having a phone conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Wilcocks which I strongly objected to by pointing out I'm not going to a middle school sleep over. I'm almost twenty one years old, fer chrissakes. They agreed, but mom said, "Yes, you're an adult, but you'll always be our sweet young beautiful baby Dylan in our hearts." I gave them a blank expression rolling my eyes at that and they both laughed. Parents have a hard time accepting when their children are grown. Even so that was kinda sweet actually. It was a very nice time with the moms, their interrogation and all. I could feel the love and concern coming from those two wonderful woman all through their inquisition.
After lunch, while the moms talk in Tris' condo, probably about everything we talked about at lunch, I'm in our condo making a list of things to take with me this summer. Then I have to cross out a number of things remembering we're dealing with Ryan's Mini Cooper. Mini Cooper convertibles do not have a lot of room to store things. Our clothing alone will probably more than fill up the car. Oh wait, Ryan said we'd use UPS for stuff that doesn't fit in the car. What the hell am I'm worried about this for, he'll have to figured out how to get our stuff to Georgia, after all he's in charge. That's what's great about not being in charge, ya don't need to figure out too much. The closer I get to summer break the less concerned I am about it. You'd think it'd be the other way around, but it's not for me. Now that I think about it though, Ryan seems more concerned about it the closer we get, so maybe that should concern me. Another text: it's from Bean this time, who says he'll be over at five o'clock if that's okay with me. I forgot all about him, but I text him back saying I'll see him then.
I'm laying on the living room sofa now doing some more daydreaming about being married to Robby when mom hurries in to give me a kiss 'goodbye' as she heads out for work. She reminds me about dinner tonight and I tell her Robby and I will be there around seven-thirty. She hurries off because she and Tris are running a little late this afternoon. Nothing new there. Man I'm in a lazy mood, but feeling really good. I get a gooey feeling about the lunch with the moms today. All the love and concern for me that I sensed coming from them sorta warms my heart. Some guys, like Connor for example, are missing that part of life, and that must be hard. Or maybe it's one of those things where you don't miss what you never had, so you don't know what you're missing. Still it makes me feel sad for Connor because I know what he's missing. All of a sudden I jump up looking at myself in the mirror. I'm trying to rationalize having this marine haircut all summer. The doorbell chimes and I think, Bean. Sure enough, when I open the door there's Bean and he's alone. Huh, I guess I was hoping he'd be alone so maybe we could have a quick noon-er after the haircut. The memory of his long skinny cock up my ass last fall is enticing. A cock like Bean's is great for recreational fucking, and pretty much without penetration pain. It stills feels tight though, but it doesn't stretch the rectum enough to really hurt, not that a little pain within reason is necessarily a bad thing. Of course a skinny dick like Bean's doesn't create incredibly sexy orgasms either, just nice ones that feel good. Certainly a better orgasm than ya get from jerking off, not that I can remember the last time I jerked off.
Beans taller than me and skinny, hence the nickname 'String-bean' shortened to 'Bean'. He's standing there looking unsure of himself as I go, "Hey Bean! Wassup?" He shrugs, "Hiya, Dylan, um, can I come in?" I laugh, "Of course, ya nut, you used to just come in without even ringing the bell when we were doing posse boys' haircuts last summer." He goes, "Oh yeah, I forgot," He comes in and does an awkward posse greeting, then I nod toward the steps and we go down to the finished basement with me asking, "Do you see Ray much?" He's like, "No, not a whole lot. He's got another steady boyfriend now. Some guy from Natick. Big bastard too, big like in, ya know, fat. I met him once and he was following Ray around like he's Ray's dog or something." Huh, it couldn't have anything to do with that fucking mushroom head on the end of Ray's big cock, could it? Needless to say I keep that thought to myself, instead I go, "Huh, ya don't say." Bean's not too chatty today and I ask him why that is as I'm shampooing his head of long brown hair in the half bath. He's another ex-posse boy who hasn't had a haircut since the last one from me, which was around the first of the year. Bean says, "I'm not talking much, Dylan, because I'm nervous." I'm like, "Nervous? Why's that, Bean?" He shrugs, "Um, I'm trying to think of a way to mention something. Oh fuck it, it's nothing, it's, oh forget it..." and he blushes. Rinsing the shampoo out of his hair I'm grinning because he's hung-up on how to ask if he can fuck me. He can, but he has to be the one who brings it up. Ya know what, Bean's the first person I've run into since getting this stupid haircut who hasn't mentioned it. He's got something else on his mind obviously.
When he's sitting on the barber stool, his long hair shiny clean, I ask, "What kind of haircut, Bean?" He shrugs, "I don't care. Just a regular haircut I can comb, but short too because I don't know when I'll be able to hook-up with you again." I chuckle, but don't say what I'm thinking, which is: feel free to go to a barbershop any time you want. I like giving these guys haircuts when I'm around, but I'm not around much. A 'regular' haircut means a neat tapered haircut with hair long enough to lay flat, and then there's a part on the left side of the head. I might give him a pompadour too, like Ryan has. Nowadays barbers usually take shortcut with regular haircuts by eliminating much of the tapering aspect, which is really kind of the point of the hair style. It's less trouble to just block the hair across the back of the neck and cut the hair on the sides and back the same length using a guide on the clippers. In other words 'Home haircut 101', except they charge you twenty bucks. That's a bullshit haircut for free, never mind for twenty bucks, but no one seems to know the difference, or more likely they just don't care. That may be the way they teach it in barber college now for all I know. Years ago I studied different haircuts online so I know how they're supposed to be done. Anyway, I do a proper regular taper for Bean, not that he's any different from most. He doesn't know the difference either. Lots of his long hair gets cut off and I'm enjoying myself, especially because the cat's still got Bean's tongue, whatever the fuck that means. He's still not talking so I get to focus on his haircut instead of listening to his convoluted view of life. After his haircut Bean never does work up the balls to tell me what's on his mind, and he leaves with a very good haircut, but with his dick still in his pants. Either way is fine with me. During his haircut I tried feeling something sexual from Bean, but couldn't reproduce the feeling I had for him last fall. Funny how that works. As he thanked me for his haircut, he muttered an uninterested 'it looks good'. Then I get the feeling from him when he's leaving he's resentful that he didn't get to fuck me... like it was my fault. Heh heh, I like him okay, but not enough to ask him if he wants to fuck me.
As I'm sweeping up his cut hairs I'm wondering if a year ago I'd have let that opportunity for a nice buddy-fuck slip through my fingers like that. All I'd needed to say was something vague like, 'Do you want to do the other thing too?' and he would have taken it from there. Jeez, I would have liked sucking a boner on his noodle too. I noticed he had a fairly nice scent when he took his shirt off. It was subtle, but I recognized it as the basic teenager scent. I'm brushing Bean's hair clippings off my arm, then decide I need another shower to get ready for my date with Robby. It's only twenty minutes of six so I've got plenty of time. As I'm going up the stairs from the basement the doorbell rings. Opening the door I see Bean, who's looking down, mumbling, "Um, I, um, we forgot what we did last year, Dylan," and I'm like, "What's that, Bean?" He looks up, "Don't you remember?" I can't torture him anymore because he looks a little pathetic shifting his feet and blushing, the poor guy. He's a good kid, so I go, "Oh yeah! My fault, Bean,
you mean the sexy part, right?" He nods his head, "Uh huh," and I'm like, "Come on in. We had some hot times last fall, didn't we?" He's frowning again, but feeling a little more comfortable, saying, "I don't know how the hell you could forget it, I sure didn't." I'm steering him to my bedroom, asking, "Have ya found yourself a fuck buddy yet?" He brightens up, "Sort of, but he's randomly on again, off again, ya know?" In my bedroom, I say, "Like he's not sure he wants to do it, and then he is?" Nodding his head, he goes, "Exactly, Dylan. You ever had a fuck buddy like that?" I go, "Once, yeah. He was bisexual but fighting the gay part of that." That's a lie, but I'm thinking Bean's the person he's talking about who wants to, then doesn't want to. I don't want him to think he's the only one like that.
It'd be mean to question him further about his situation. If it was a good situation he'd be bragging about it, so I assume the sexual side of his life isn't humming along on all cylinders. I don't pursue it, but I'm hoping for Bean's sake it's not Ray that he's on again, off again with. Bean deserves someone nicer than Ray. Bean's a simple guy without a mean bone in his body, no pun intended. Bean asks, "Should I take my pants down now, Dylan?" I pull mine off, saying, "Yeah, that's a good idea, Bean." He steps out of his, saying, "This is a really good haircut you gave me, Dylan, I really like it." Huh, now that we're going to have sex the haircut gets evaluated from a gruff, "Good haircut, Dylan," to an excited and enthusiastic, 'Really good haircut!' Ha ha, that's the goofy part of Bean I like. Without making him anymore uncomfortable I drop to my knees, pick up his noodle in my fingers, inhale his scent that's just beginning to get ripe down here, and suck on his cock as I'm stroking it. Within ninety seconds it's a long, thin, hard boner. Lots of moaning and groaning from Bean with his feet almost tap dancing. He either has a very sensitive penis or he's extremely horny, but most likely it's both those things. Blowing out a lot of air, his face red, Bean steps back stroking his cock. He gasps a few times, his chest expanding as he takes another deep breath, then murmurs, "Nothing feels as good as that, except the next thing." I grin at him and he goes, "Oh man! Whew, that was something, Dylan" as a long drool of precum slides down his fist. He makes a whistling sound grinning now and staring at the precum. Yeah, it feels good, I get it, but I need to turn my head so he doesn't see me laughing just a little. Bean's funny although he's not trying to be funny.
My dick barely had the time to get hard during that short blow job so I'm joining with Bean stroking my cock. I say, "Wait a second, Bean," and get my hidden tube of lube from the bathroom. Why not use it even though his dick's long and skinny. I push his hand away from his boner and fist it with lubricant on my fingers and it gets even harder sticking straight out from his body like a ruler. That's a really tight boner right there. Holy shit! I stroke it a couple more times from the root, letting my fist pull off the head each time as he's wheezing and doing his little dance with more precum drooling out. Grinning, I say, "We're ready to go, Bean." I bend over, grabbing my knees like Sonny did yesterday. Looking back I see Bean come right up to me and he plugs the slippery head of his cock right in past my sphincter. He reaches over and cups my shoulders pulling me back onto his long boner as he's pushing it in at the same time. One long smooth penetration that surprises me because it does kinda hurt a little as I arch my back grunting. That's it though, the rest feels really good. Bean's hips start moving and he keeps them moving and after a few smooth thrusts he begins slamming that straw into me, "Slap, slap, slap, slap," with him making whining, "Eee," sounds with each thrust up my ass. Lots of nice sensations buzz off the nerve ending in my rectum. My anus is happily sending me pleasure messages, but my prostate is a little lacking due to the circumference of the boner in my ass. Still feels real good though and I do a quiet, "Umm, umm, yeah."
No firecrackers or super novas, but it feels good, real good and my cock bones-up nicely bobbing between my legs. I go, "Mmm, mmm," thinking how glad I am he came back. A nice easy fuck like this is a good warm up for the main event with Robby later. Then Bean's leaning on me flopping desperately against my butt cheeks and back. No way he's climaxing already! He's a little frantic getting his long skinny arm around the front of my neck pulling me up straight. His chest against my back. Bean slams his cock up my ass three or four times before he makes a sound like something scared him, like someone came out of his bedroom closet and yell, "BOO!. And then he goes, "Aaaaaah," and I feel his hard stream of cum bouncing off the walls of my bowels. Another humps and more cum shoots into me with Bean choking me with his arm's tight grip around my throat. Then two more humps and Bean lets out the breath he's been holding as he takes his arm away from my throat and steps back pulling his cock out of my ass. It was two minutes, tops. Probably closer to a ninety seconds fuck. I'm standing here with my dick in my hand. Bean's bent over gasping, his cock slimy with his own cum as it dangles lifelessly between his legs. Big exhale from him, then he straightens up looking at me with kind of a smug grin, asking, "How was that, Dylan? How'd ya like that fuck?" Well, it kinda sucked, but I say, "Hot, Bean, uber hot. Ya got some kinda weapon there between your legs. Awesome."
He's nodding his head, saying, "Yeah, glad I could do that for ya. Hey, how 'bout tossing me that box of tissues." I flip him the box, then pull up my pants as the copious amount of spunk he shot up my ass begins drooling out and wetting my underpants. Fuck it, I'll take a shower as soon as he leaves. He wipes his dick then pulls up his pants and holds out the cum saturated tissue, saying, "Can you get rid of this for me?" I point to the trash basket next to my desk and he drops the tissue there. He grins, "Bet you won't forget what comes after my haircut next time, huh?" I go, "We'll see, Bean. I've got a boyfriend ya know and, um, I'm kinda feeling guilty about cheating on him." He sits on my bed, "Oh yeah, it's the hot looking shortstop who played hardball with us last summer, right? You still going with him?" I go, "Yep, and as a matter of fact I've got to shower and get ready for a date with him now, so if..." He stands, "Oh, okay, right. Shouldn't we kiss though? I guess we should have done that first, huh?" I step over and hold his chin giving him a big wet kiss, then say, "That's for an awesome fuck, Bean, but we might not be able to do it next time. Okay?" He nods his head, "Well, you can call me if you get horny. Anytime, Dylan, and this is our secret right?" I go, "Oh, absolutely," and I sort of walk him to the door. He says, "Thanks, Dylan, this was awesome, "and he gives me a quick kiss missing most of my lips, getting me mostly on the chin." He slams the door behind him.
Okay, that blew! Yes, but on the plus side it didn't take a whole lot of time and Bean's got a little extra bounce to his step, so I'm happy for him. Taking my clothes off, I get in the shower and that always feels good with the hot water pouring over me. Then I laugh out loud about Bean's fuck. He's a harmless good guy, but that was a funny one. I feel confident my sarcasm wasn't detected by him and I'm glad it wasn't too. I wouldn't want to hurt his feeling, and then I'm laughing again, but soon feel bad for Bean. Oh man, I hope he really does find a fuck buddy. It wouldn't need to be anyone special, just someone who likes him okay and Bean feels the same way about the guy. There's so many gay guys who won't admit it to themselves, or if they do they can't find someone to share their body with. Damn, this is making me feel bad, so the rest of my shower I go back to thinking about Robby
and me. Finally I'm clean, dressed, and ready for anything. Robby texts that he's at the curb below my condo. All of a sudden I feel excited, it's almost the feel of a first date. A first date with someone who finally asked me out. Going down the steps I really, really like that I'm honestly still getting this excited about a date with Robby. It's like new every time we go out. I don't tell myself how lucky I am to be Robby's boyfriend as often as I should. Me saying that isn't at all like Ryan saying he can't believe I feel the way I do about him, like he's inferior. I don't feel inferior to anyone and I know for a fact there are gay guys besides Robby and Ryan who'd like me to be their boyfriend. I know this because they've told me. They're some wonderful young guys too so I couldn't go wrong with any of them, but I choose Rob Dickers.
On the sidewalk now, but I resist running to Robby's pickup like I've been known to do in the past. I'm getting too old for that spirited puppy love kind of thing. Instead I try walking kinda cool towards his pickup as I'm watching Robby watching me. He gets a smile on his face, and when I'm close enough to hear him, he says, "That's your cool walk, isn't it?" I laugh, "Yeah, I'm perfecting it, guess it needs a little more work." He says, "It's plenty cool enough for me," and I stick my face in his open window as he leans over for a very sweet kiss, just lips and when our lips pull apart there a quiet 'smack' sound. He kisses me again real fast, then says, "Hop in the pickup you sexy boy." He's licking his lips as I walk around and get in the passenger seat. Robby says, "You taste good, baby." Sliding over to him for another kiss, Robby's hand holds the back of my head as we do a luscious wet kiss. From one of the cars zooming by someone lays on the horn for five seconds as he passes our parked car. Neither Robby or I even look up to see who it was.
We do our mini make-out for a minute or two, then Robby says, "Guess what? Dad ordered me a brand new pickup. This one gets traded in, so kiss this faithful fuck-mobile goodbye." I frown, "This pickup has a lot of stories to tell, Rob." He nods, "I know, but this bad boy's has seen better days and I'm sick of getting it repaired. Anyway I've never had a band new pickup. It's always a hand-me-down pickup from my dad. Ha ha, then Dodger gets my hand-me-down when I get dad's next one. He buy's a new one every three years." Huh, Dodger's been fucked over, pickup-wise. Robby says, "Get your seat belt on, Dylan, and lets get to the restaurant, I'm hungry." This model pickup has a bench front seat with three seat belts. I use the seat belt next to the passenger side door because it would look odd sitting in the middle. As I click the belt in place, I go, "Do they still make pickups with a front bench seat, or do all models have bucket seats now?" He gets us in the flow of traffic, muttering, "I don't really know, but I'm guessing only older models have bench seats. My new one has bucket seats." Patting the middle seat, I go, "This front seat has served us well over the years, but I'm guessing sex in bucket seats might be problematic." He chuckles, glancing at me, "Yeah, I guess so, but we don't need to screw in a pickup anymore, babe, we're 'out' and we're over the age of consent." I say, "Uh huh, that sounds good but the last time I checked Massachusetts is one of eighteen states that still has a law against sodomy on the books. Theoretically a person could get up to twenty years in prison if convicted." Robby goes, "What?? Fuck that, the Supreme Court banned all sodomy laws." I'm like, "Yeah, I know, but eighteen states still have the law on their books, and for all I know they might still have laws against witchcraft up there in Salem, Mass. They could burn some poor woman at the stake any day now." Robby mutters, "You've gotta be wrong, Dylan, Massachusetts allows same sex marriages so why would there be a law against anal screwing?" I shrug, "Just saying..."
Robby parks in an almost full parking lot for the restaurant mom and Tris waitress at, and we get out. The restaurant reminds me of a smaller version of Burtons in North Andover. It's an upscale suburban restaurant, a step above restaurants chains like, The Cheesecake Factory or LongHorn Steakhouse. The waiters, waitresses, and bartenders wear uniforms and all the tables have starched white table cloths and soft cloth napkins with heavy silver wear. It's a little pricey too, but bigger dinner checks mean higher tips for the wait staff. At the front desk the man asks me if we have a reservation, and I say, "My mom, Dee Newman, is expecting us. I'm her son." The guy smiles, "Ah, yes, Dee has a table set up for you boys." I go, "Thanks, I know where it is," and he holds his arm out, like, 'Be my guest,' and we make our way through the noisy room. I like noisy restaurants as opposed to quiet ones where people can listen to your conversation. The table, as usual, is set up near the kitchen so there's a lot of foot traffic, but the price is right, as in 'comped' which means 'complimentary' or... 'free' in other words.
Robby and I sit down and my favorite older waitress comes over, saying, "Hi, handsome,' as she passes us menus, then squeezes my shoulder. I give her my 100 watt smile, "Hi, Rita, is my mom busy?" She says, "Dee said she'll be able to break away in ten minutes or so, both her and Tris. Who's your handsome friend, and where's your brother?" I say, "This is my boyfriend, Rob Dickers, and my bro is still at Merrimack. He'll be here next weekend though." She says, "Nice to meet you, Rob," then, "What can I get you boys while you're waiting?" I say, "Two Manhattans straight up." She shakes her head chuckling, "That's awesomely ballsy of you, Dylan. A very ballsy move on your part, but ballsy's a good thing in my book. Two Manhattans straight up, coming up," and she goes off to place the drink order. She didn't flinch when I said, 'my boyfriend' because my mom's mentioned that her son is gay. Mom isn't embarrassed or ashamed that I'm gay anymore than I am. Robby says, "Lets not get drunk tonight, baby. I want to be able to fully realize and enjoy our time together after dinner." I nod my head, "Sure, but a couple of drinks can get the party started." He mumbles, "We don't need a party starter, but one or two drinks sounds okay." He's excited about everything he's been hearing the past couple of days in the meetings he's been attending and he can't wait to tell me about it. He gives me all the highlights from the meetings, only stopping when our drinks arrive so we can thank our waitress, and then I hear how he's especially excited about the expansion in the condo project, the one they had the winning bid on last year. It's now 'Dickers and Son Landscaping and Design Company' and they've added digging all the foundation holes for the five condo buildings and the forty individual homes to their responsibilities. The development company is paying a lot extra for that, in addition to all the landscaping of over forty acres. They'll be a total of one hundred and fifty units, a hundred and ten being condo units housed in ten buildings, and then the forty separate three-bedroom homes. He says, "Your's and my condo unit is on the end of the second building, Dylan. It's a two floor unit with a walk-out basement to a nice little yard, and we also have a gas fireplace in the living room. It's one of the premium two floor units in the entire fucking project, and it has my name stamped on... literally, not figuratively. Of course it's still a year and a half before we even break ground for that phase of the project. We'll start the first phrase in June."
I'm borderline interested in what Robby's telling me, mostly because he's so excited about it. He's like a cute kid excited about a new toy while at the same time he's like a businessman enthralled with the details of a complicated business deal. It's a very big project that will be built on an area of Framingham I'm familiar with. It's a large hilly area covered with trees near one of the Mass Pike toll booths. Somebody is quite the visionary thinking that location would be a good spot for a hundred and fifty homes. Most of the trees need to removed first of course, and that's part of the Dickers company's responsibility. They've doubled the size of their office space and bought or leased lots of expensive heavy equipment. Robby says, "Dylan, it's unbelievable how much money we owe the commercial lenders, but they see this as a can't miss project and quickly approved the loans once we got that original financing for phrase one." By now I'm not all that disappointed when mom and Tris come over interrupting Robby's fifteen minute presentation. Robby and I stand and accept hugs, kisses, and compliments from the moms, and when the four of us sit down my moms, says, "So nice to see you, Robby. It must be very exciting for you and your dad to be involved in the Rose Tree project I read about in the paper," and I get to hear a condensed version of what Robby's just told me over the last fifteen minutes. Robby discontinues his synopsis of the project when our waitress, Rita, shows up to take our dinner orders. I order another Manhattan before anyone can say anything. Robby's still working on his first one so he declines a second. For dinner the moms order their usual, a salad each. Robby and I order tonight's special and French onion soup as our appetizer. The special is standing rib roast with twice-baked potato. We'll ignore the creamed spinach that comes with it.
Before Robby can continue his project presentation the moms jump in with questions, but gratefully they're now mostly questions about college life. I'm grinning to myself recognizing that the moms didn't appear to be too disappointed Rita showed up when she did either. I'm assuming they'd heard enough about the Dickers' construction project by then. I love Robby's enthusiasm though, and glancing at him now makes my heart feel warm and fuzzy with love. As we talk it's obvious no one's interested in acknowledging the elephant in the room, which is me spending the summer in Georgia. None of my dinner companions are especially happy about that, but it is what it is. Robby mentioned in passing that the company's new direction and expansion renders the landscaping and grass cutting division a minor role in the big scheme of things. Nonetheless it will be Robby's supervisory job this summer and then next year he'll be promoted to manager of that division. Because it's now a minor part of the company is not why Robby hasn't mention much about it. He's avoiding the subject because I won't be part of it for most of the summer. Also there's the uncomfortable fact that Danny will be part of it, and living with the Dickers no less. We're all aware of what's happening this summer so what more is there to say about it anyway? The moms, bless their hearts, monopolize the conversation while we're eating our soups and salads thereby eliminating the possibility of one of those uncomfortable t opics accidentally being mentioned. It warms my heart to hear them happily talk about their twin fiancés and the fun the moms have waitressing with friends at work they've known for years. They seem happy and that makes me happy. They mix in compliments for Robby and me along with the so-called funny incidences they recite for Robby's and my amusement, most of which aren't that funny to us. The moms can't help but laugh at their tales of waitressing mishaps. Robby and me politely grin along with the mom's laughter, not quite getting the humor.
Too soon the moms need to get back to work and they do so when Robby's and my entrees arrive. As Robby and I eat we talk about the topic that won't go away. One we feel comfortable talking about, which is final exams week. I tell him about Ryan being so bored he found himself studying for finals, then Robby lays out what he feels is a good plan for reviewing one last time important material just before each specific final exam. He doesn't call what he has in mind 'a study group' but it sounds like a study group to me. I don't care though, I'm going to go with the flow and follow Robby's lead. By the way, there is one good aspect of finals week, and it's that we'll have a lot of free time. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we have a two hour exam at nine in the morning, but that's it for the day. Plus, we have nothing we need to do on Tuesday and Thursday. Ryan, Robby, and me fucked up by having our fourth and last exam the following Monday. Otherwise we'd be done Friday, like Chubby. It was a quirk in the scheduling and we can't do anything about it now. So, a week from this Monday we're done sophomore year for better or worse. I think it'll be for the better because we're all going to crack that 3.0 GPA barrier, and not a whole lot of college students can lay claim to that. That's the topic we talk about the most while finishing our dinners. Luckily, during the conversation, neither of us pulls a muscle patting ourselves on the back.
Robby and I have coffee and vanilla cake for dessert, and then, even though the meal's been comped, we leave thirty bucks for our waitress' tip. On our way out it's hugs goodbyes from mom and Tris, with Robby and me thanking them for the dinner, and then we're out into the chilly night. We light cigarettes walking through the parking lot and then smoke them leaning against Robby's pickup. Exhaling smoke, Robby says, "Awesome dinner, love me some prime rib of beef." I nod, "Yeah, medium rare and just right. Um, did you tell me when you get your new pickup?" He says, "No, I don't think so. It's a week from Monday, right after our last final exam. I'll drop this one off at the dealers and drive the new one home." We're quiet as we finish our cigarettes. Maybe Robby's thinking the same thing I am, which is: Robby's fuck-mobile of a pickup, a vehicle we've had so much sex together in, is being replaced by something new, and at the same time we're embarking on something new in our relationship the same day. He'll be here with Danny and I'll be there with Ryan starting that Monday, the last day of our sophomore year. Changing the status quo is part of life though, part of growing up and dealing with something new. That sounds good, but it's a bit nerve racking too. I put my arm around the back of Robby's neck and hug him against me, murmuring, "We're gonna be right back on schedule with our original plans in a couple of months, right Rob?" He gets his arm around the back of my waist for a hug, "Those plans are set in stone, Dylan. You and me are getting married and living together in that condo, the one with my name on it. I promise you that." He grins then adds, "We're gonna do it whether you want to or not! I'll drag you there kicking and screaming if I have to." I laugh, "I want to do it all, Rob, everything you've planned for us is what I want to do. Swear to God I do," and we kiss in the parking lot without any comments from the people walking by us to their car. I like that people are becoming accepting of the fact that gays actually exist, and for the most part they're more or less okay with it.
When Robby's driving out of the parking lot, he grins at me asking, "Shall we spend a little sexy time in your bedroom?" He's got the cutest grin. I say, "How about we take a trip down memory lane and fuck in this loyal old pickup that's been so good to us?" He laughs, "You're a romantic, babe. Where should we park?" To make up for not being as interested as I should have been in Robby business recitation earlier at dinner, I go, "How about your company compound? You can show me the new office buildings and the new 'Dicker's & Son Landscaping and Design Co.' sign." He goes, "Awesome idea," and that's what we do. As Robby's driving onto the company's parking lot and I see the big new sign, I ask, "How come your dad didn't make it 'sons' instead of 'son' on the sign?" He shakes his head, "That's a ticklish situation. I've brought it up to dad a couple of times and he says if Dodger shows an interest in participating in the business he'll change it." That seems a little hard-hearted to me, but it's not my place to say so. Then we're onto the main section and I'm like, "Wow! I hardly recognize the place. I saw the early days of construction late last summer, but I never expected it'd be this big." Robby's proud, "Yeah, dad didn't spare any expense. Look at the size of that garage." There's this humongous garage with huge doors. Robby says, "That's where the big equipment is stored. We're leasing most of it." He drives around pointing out the various buildings, and how the older buildings I'm familiar with look almost insignificant. He says, "We'll continue running the regular lawn cutting service because it's a good revenue stream. Six months of the year it's landscaping and then snow removal during some of the other six months. We do snow removal for many businesses in Framingham, Natick, and other surrounding towns and we just won a bid to do snow removal for Walmart's parking lot too, and that's a huge parking lot."
Robby parks where we've parked before at a faintly lit spot behind the old equipment building and out of sight of the video cameras. A burglar wouldn't know that, but Robby does. He shuts off the engine and we sit here looking at each other as we're slowly unhooking our seat belts. We're kind of solemn for some reason as Robby slides over to me, away from the steering wheel. We get our arms around each other, our faces coming together and our eyes closing. The kisses are long and sweet and slow for a couple of minutes and then we just hug one another with the side of our faces together. Robby's tight body is a wonderful body to hug. I murmur, "What's that I'm smelling?" Robby says, "My after shave lotion. Do you like it?" I nod my head, "Yes, I do, but I like feeling your beard on my face better." Robby does a little laugh, "Some beard, huh. Ha ha, it's more like peach fuzz" My fingers ruffle back through Robby's flat top, "Do you like your haircut, Robby?" He says, "It's kinda short and the guys on the team ragged on Danny and me for having the same haircut, but other than that I love it because you're the one who gave me the haircut." Sliding my cheek against his as I pull my head back, and with my face in front of his, "I love you so much, Robby," and rub my nose against his, then we do deeper kisses and my cock gets harder and harder as Robby's pink tongue slides on my tongue. Ooh, it's such a loving kiss we're having, and he's so sexy, I moan. "Mmmm, Robby, I love you."
Our kisses get wetter, tongue licking tongue, and then tongues licking across lips, and then more moans and deep kisses with our bodies squirming together. As our making-out progresses there's heavy breathing and some panting, then little quiet whines of desire from both of us. Robby has me up against the door, leaning on me as we kiss and lick each other's lips and face with Robby gently humping his hard cock against mine. I soon realize I'm going to cum in my pants again. My head moves against his, our foreheads sliding together, "Oh, oh, Robby, mmm." He moves his head so his lips are on my ear, with him murmuring, "Your pants, baby, get your pants down." I hump my hips, positive I'm going to climax but only precum plops out wetting my underpants. Robby sits up and wrestles his pants down past his knees, then he gets on the seat. He's on his knees, his body straight up with his head an inch from the roof of the pickup. He's looking down at me with his beautiful shiny blue eyes as I glance away from his eyes to stare at his four-plus inches of hard fat cock that's pointing straight out from his groin. Still looking at it I'm fumbling my pants and underwear down, trying to get them off past my sneakers. Not an easy thing to do, but I manage, then get on all fours with the top of my head against the passenger door's window.
Gasping with desire I look back at Robby and do my too fast head nod indicating I'm ready, willing, and eager for him to fuck me. He walks two steps on his knees and I feel the head of his cock against my asshole. Robby puts pressure on my anus' lips spreading them, then more pressure opening my asshole wider, and then the fat head pops past my sphincter and I have another climax false alarm with my back arches and my hips doing their involuntary hump shooting out an inch of precum that gets my shoulders and head shuddering and me moaning, "Ummm, oooh, god that felt good." Robby presses his boner slowly up my ass and it's a fat boner, much fatter than my recent sexual encounters. While it hurts as it's steadily going up my ass with Robby quietly grunting from the sensations coming off his cock, it's not all hurt. Along with the hurt is intense sexual pleasure that I only experience to this degree when having sex with Robby. I feel his love for me and his concern, especially because he knows penetration initially hurts me. Taking his fat cock up my ass spreads the walls of my rectum and lips of my anus significantly. Robby's boner's an unexpected intruder for my rectum at first, and it protests with the hurt, but when Robby's flat against my butt cheeks and he leans over and rubs my back with both hands, getting his face close to the back of my head, quietly asking, "You okay, Dylan?" it's all worthwhile. I nod my head as the pain recedes and I let out the breath I've been holding, murmuring, "It feels wonderful, Robby. Nothing feels as good as when you're inside my body... nothing." He lays on my back hugging around my stomach with both arms, whispering, "I don't know what love is if it's not the way I feel about you right now. Can't even begin to describe the ways I love you and I cry thinking I won't see you for all those weeks coming up on us
so quickly." I suck on my lips not wanting to talk about that, not now.
Another hug from Robby and he straightens up so his head again is almost hitting the truck's roof. He's slowly withdrawing his cock as I shudder with sexual pleasure. Robby begins steadily thrusting and right off the bat I'm groveling from the delightfully sexy sensations coming off my anus and prostate, with my boner throbbingly adding to the pleasure party. Oh, it's feeling so good I can't explain it. He gets into it fairly quickly, holding onto my hips and fucking me steadily, with "Slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds, and my moans of pleasure are all I hear. Then shortly there's the sound of Robby's ragged breathing too. Steady thrusts of his fat stubby cock hitting every nerve ending and they're all ringing sexual pleasure notes. "Slap, slap, slap," with me moaning along with each thrust, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, mmm, mmm, ooh," it continues with my head hanging and swinging between my arms, bumping the door with every hump up my ass. What follows, and I don't know how long it is that Robby steadily fucks me, but once I got past that early scare of a premature ejaculation, I've experienced the highest level of sexual pleasure thus far in my life. It's all about Robby's sexy scent, his concern for not hurting me, the sense that his first thought is giving me sexual pleasure, and the nerve endings in my rectum firing sexual pleasure more perfectly than I thought possible, and the fact that this is an authentic 'making love' sexual act between two people who truly love each other more than they love themselves. Only love can make sexual acts between two people this special and this meaningful. It's as close to perfection as we humans can achieve. This intense loving way of making love, as the euphemism goes, is the real thing and everything else simply isn't. This is the loving sexual act I want to have with Robby forever, and if I didn't know that
before, I know it now during our sex tonight. When I gasp, almost passing out from the overwhelming sexual pleasures, and then squeal with cum gushing out of my cock splattering against the passenger door, I'm more sure than ever that this is what I want forever. It's us, Robby and me, who can reach this level of sexual pleasure, but only together. And, after my initial orgasm, when I'm holding my breath for another, Robby makes a startling sound as if the intensity of his orgasm is so striking it scares him, and with his next humps against me my rectum fills with his creamy seed just as another stream of cum shoots from my cock with my body shuddering and bright lights of pleasure blind me for just a second, then everything begins to fade into this peaceful euphoric state of mind as I sigh, then a last body shudder. Oh that felt so good I'm sure the universe stopped moving for an instant in time. What bliss I feel after this lover's sex with Robby. It's definitely different, in only better ways, different from sex I have with anyone else.
We're both huddled on the seat gasping, me against the passenger door with Robby all over me while we wait to return to earth. After one last deep breath Robby pulls his cock from my ass and sits back sighing. I stay hunched, my head against the door with my knees almost touching my chin for a minute, like I expect Robby to do it again. Then I feel his cum drooling out of me, so I grab a handful of tissues from the glove compartment on the dashboard and drop my feet to the floor of the pickup, then sit back on the tissues next to Robby. He puts an arm around me and we cuddle together without talking. The back of my head's on Robby's shoulder, the side of my forehead resting against his cheek. It's so comfortable and safe in Robby's arms. He takes another deep breath, a quiet one, then squeezes me, murmuring, "Did that seem extra special, Dylan? It did to me. It's was so perfect and, I don't know, it's like telepathically you were sending me your love, that's what it felt like anyway." I nod, "I was sending my love to you, Rob, and I felt your love too. It's how making love was meant to be, you know, between people in love." He grins, looking at me, "You're right of course, but how 'bout that recreational sex with side-sex buddies you've been educating me about for three years now." I go, "Um, that's, um, that's recreational." He
laughs a little, "Oh, that clears it up for me."
We stay cuddling like this for a while discussing things in an unserious manner and getting goofy almost like the sex we just had tonight was too serious for us to understand right now, almost like we felt self-conscious about it, or maybe scared by it a little. So we get a little silly. After awhile we get our clothes back the way they belong, and ride around talking about our sophomore year, still avoiding any talk about this summer. The exception to that being what Robby said when we were making love. We end up at my place and get in my bed naked for another long make-out leading to another slow loving fuck that never quite matches the intensity of our earlier one. The earlier one I'll remember and look forward to again reaching that level of loving sexual pleasure. It'll only be with Robby that I can ever expect to experience that almost surreal sense of love and sex mixed together. We stay in my twin bed until almost one o'clock in the morning enjoying the feel of our naked bodies rubbing together while quietly murmuring words of love to one another. He finally has to leave because of an early round of meeting his dad has planned for Sunday morning. Robby will pick me up at two in the afternoon for our trip back to college. I lay in bed awhile after he leaves thinking about our sex in the pickup tonight, then realize in all
likelihood it'll be our last sex in that pickup ever. It was one for the ages though, and although I don't fully understand how or why it happened like it did, and to both of us, I'll never forget it.
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. And there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. 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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