By Donny Mumford - Laureate Author

Published on Dec 8, 2023




After John's physical exam by Dr. Berry, the boys are back to their hotel suite. John flops in the armchair, telling Andy, "He didn't care that I'm leaving town tomorrow. It was like nothing to him. He shrugged at my shaved pubic hair, saying something about a Mohawk haircut. When he was done, he wished me good luck, and that was that. Oh man, was I ever wrong... I thought he was hot to fuck me."

"You may have been projecting your feelings, Darling, but you said he gave you a hug, saying 'what might have been,' right? So, obviously, if it had been convenient for Dr. Berry to fuck you, he would have fucked your brains out, but it wasn't convenient. He had to work all afternoon doing physicals, and he apparently had something he wanted to do tonight, um, more than he wanted to fuck you."

John mutters, "Don't hold back, Andy. Tell me exactly what you think."

Andy shrugs, and John adds, "I was looking forward to seeing what it would feel like. You know, what it would be like getting fucked by someone else. I know it wouldn't be as good as you, but I almost had a chance to prove that to myself, except the doctor pooped out on me."

"You'll get another chance, and it wouldn't need to be very special to be better than me, Johnny. I'm a submissive bottom boy trying to be your dominant top. It's stressful, buddy."

"Well, I appreciate it, Andy. Um, don't you like fucking me?"

"Of course, I do, but as you know, it's not my number one choice for sex. Gay men and boys dream of an Adonis such as yourself to have a sexual experience with, so I feel very lucky in that regard. Hell, if I don't keep an eye on you, you'll be screwing from here to Wyoming, but you're still in a fragile stage recovering from all you've been through, so for right now, you're all mine, and I feel a deep responsibility to stick by you until you've recovered your memory and you're on solid physiological grounds again."

John tears up, murmuring, I'm so lucky that you're taking care of everything for me, including my sexual needs. Seriously, I can hardly believe my good fortune to have you as my sponge bath nurse's assistant. Um, and that's the honest-to-God truth, but what I want to know is: what should I do if one of these guys you say will want to fuck me asks me if he can?"

Andy shrugs again, "With me keeping an eye on you, that's highly unlikely to happen anytime soon, Johnny. You're not out there on your own hitting bars and gay clubs, which is where pick-up situations present themselves. If you're with me at a club, and we're a couple, it'd be rude for you to accept an invitation for sex from a stranger, leaving me alone holding my dick. Heh-heh, you wouldn't do that, I'm sure. However, if you're out on your own and another Dr. Berry situation happens, and I can't imagine how it would, but if it did... I guess the decision will be yours. If you didn't have amnesia, you'd already know how sex with me compares with others; probably not that great, but I'm doing my best for you."

John looks serious, "You're telling me that it'd be okay with you if I said yes to someone who wants to fuck me, right?"

Another shrug as Andy says, "Yeah, I guess. You've got the right to see what it's like. You'll most likely get your memory back before something presents itself like that, though."

Adjusting his junk, John mutters, "It both excites me and makes me nervous thinking that something like that could happen. Fuck, though, I wanted Dr. Berry to do it, so..."

"You'll have other chances, but as I said, you'll probably get your memory back first. Then you can compare how much you like us having sex with how much you like you and the mystery person doing it."

John pats his ass, mumbling, "Not to change the subject, but damn, this pantie I'm wearing feels so fucking good! You should wear one. Really comfortable! Heh-heh, how do my underpants feel on you?"

Andy's at the bed separating the clean laundry into piles of his clothes and John's clothes, mumbling, "Your underpants feel fabulous, especially when compared to the tiny underpants I had on this morning. Um, and wearing your underpants is sexy as hell because you had them on before me."

John goes over and puts his arms around Andy from behind him, murmuring, "I hope you remember what you said about fucking me since Dr. Berry didn't."

"Ha ha, you are so awesome for my ego, Johnny. We've fucked today already, and I'll be happy to do it again, but not right now. It's getting late, and I've decided I'll be brave and follow through on what I said about getting a haircut. I need to look like a grownup, leaving the childish ponytail behind. I'm going to do that now before I can change my mind."

Letting go of Andy, John mumbles, "I like your ponytail," and Andy says, "Thanks, but I think you're just saying that because you don't want to hurt my feelings. Isn't that pretty much it?"

"Yeah, haha, I guess so. Yeah, you're right... sorry about that."

Andy takes his pile of clean clothes off the bed and puts them in a couple of bureau drawers, then says, "In Wyoming, in a way, I'll be representing you, and I'm concerned that your attorney and anyone else who knows you there will be suspicious of me. They'll wonder what my deal is, rejecting our explanation of gay best buds, even though it's true. They'll think I'm after your inheritance. So, the least I can do to thwart that is present a nice appearance."

John's fiddling around with the other two pairs of girlie underpants they bought earlier today, stretching them out with his fingers as he mutters, "Why can't you have a nice appearance with a ponytail?"

Moving John's clean clothes off the bed, Andy says, "I want to appear as a more serious, responsible person. Men wearing a ponytail usually are creative types like musicians, actors, poets, or hippy types left over from another century." Then, purposely sounding pompous, he adds, " I'm a professional certified nurse's assistant, which is only a four-year bachelor's degree in nursing away from being a registered nurse, so I want to look the part."

Not paying a lot of attention to what Andy's saying, John's looking into the mirror over the bureau, running his fingers through his short hair, muttering, "Ah, and you give an excellent sponge bath, too."

Andy mumbles, "You're not listening, are you? That thing I said about me almost being a registered nurse was a joke. I was making fun of myself. Being four years away from registered nurse status is NOT ALMOST being a registered nurse! I'm only a high school graduate who took a four-week course to be a certified nurse's assistant. I'm a nobody, in other words, but I want to look like a somebody."

John frowns, "Why are you getting upset? I think you're a fantastic person whether you have a ponytail or not."

Shaking his head, giving up explaining himself, Andy stands next to John, looking at himself in the mirror, muttering, "I need a new look. That's basically what it is, Darling."

"Well, are you planning to get a haircut like my boy's regular haircut that I got from that eighty-something-year-old barber in the hotel barbershop?"

"No, definitely not that! I'm going to avoid that particular octogenarian and get a modern 'regular' haircut, whatever that is. I've been looking at 2023 hairstyles for college-age guys online, and I'm not excited about current haircut styles, but what do I know? I noticed the barbershop in the Prudential Mall we were at this morning had a sign in the window that said 'WALK-INS WELCOME,' so I'm going to walk in there. Do you wanna come with me?"

"Of course I do! I want to go everywhere with you. You're my current idol, Andy."

"Well, c'mon then. It's fortunate you're rich so we can tip the doorman again for getting us another taxi."

The barbers at the Prudential Center Mall's barbershop, age-wise, could be the grandsons of the hotel barber who gave John his haircut. The three barbers in this shop are like twenty-something, or maybe one of them is thirty years old. They're all very stylish-looking, wearing sports coats. There's a woman receptionist Andy speaks with, then sits next to John in one of the waiting chairs, mumbling, "I need to wait almost an hour. Why don't you kill time wandering around the mall? You could buy something for us to read on the plane tomorrow. If I were you, I'd be like... anything's better than sitting here for over an hour."

John frowns, "Yeah, okay, but I don't like doing stuff on my own. And, um, are you looking at the haircuts those three barbers are giving their customers?"

"Yeah, I know, Darling, they're weird, but that's the current style for young hot-shit guys. As I said, I Googled current hairstyles, and as odd as some of those haircuts look, they're what's 'IN' currently. The sides and back are very short, clipper-cut-short and the hair on top can be any length from very long to short. It's called a fade haircut."

"Actually, the pictures of that type of haircut on the walls in here are cool, but maybe that's because the guys modeling the haircuts are cuter than fuck. Wow, look at the end guy! So handsomely cute!"

"You're so innocent, Darling. You're cuter and better looking than all of them put together. I'm not, though, so maybe I'll look silly with the so-called fade haircut those models have."

Taking hold of Andy's hand, John whispers in his ear, "You'll be beautiful with that faded haircut. The thing is, though, I'll bet my left nut that this fade hairstyle hasn't reached Wyoming yet. No one there will know a fade haircut from a crewcut, so don't worry about it."

"Is that a recovered memory, Darling?"

"Um, I don't know. It's just that in Boston, New York, and places like that, fade haircuts might rock, but in Wyoming, I'm not so sure they've even heard of a fade haircut."

"Jesus, Darling, stop it! You're fucking with my head. Now I don't know what type of haircut to ask for. Go buy us something to read on the plane. Go ahead! Let me think about this."

John chuckles, kisses Andy's cheek, smirks at the young barber who saw him kiss Andy, then mutters to Andy, "Okay, boss. I'll do it even though, as I already said, I don't like doing shit by myself, but I suppose I've got to stop being a baby sooner or later."

As he gets up, he makes eye contact with an African-American guy who's maybe twenty, waiting for a haircut. He's sitting on the other side of the door. John caught the guy staring at him, along with the young barber, when he kissed Andy.

John doesn't realize that his extraordinary good looks are the reason lots of people stare at him, some openly, but most covertly. He thinks these two guys are staring only because he kissed Andy's cheek. John smiles and nods at the nice-looking young black guy, realizing something cool about himself. He'd never given a thought about this before now, but he just realized that he's totally okay about being gay. He's kind of proud about being okay being a gay guy. And proud that he isn't embarrassed that the young, good-looking kid saw him holding Andy's hand, leaning against Andy, and kissing him.

When he nodded at the young guy, the kid arrogantly snickered and turned his head. John smiled to himself, sincerely not caring what that kid thinks. Walking out of the shop, he wonders if this nonchalance about being gay and not giving a shit what anybody thinks is a recovered memory or something totally new. If it's new, it's because of Andy's positive, adult influence, for which John is grateful.

He feels good about himself and grins a big grin when walking past the lingerie shop. For the fuck of it, he gives a big wave and smiles at the sales clerk, Sandy-something, who looks back at him with a confused expression, obviously not remembering him. He smirks, saying out loud, but not too loud, "First, Dr. Berry blows me off as inconvenient, and now I get snubbed by Sandy... Heh-heh."

A lady pushing a stroller with a sleeping toddler in it looks over her shoulder, asking, "Were you talking to me?" John smiles, "No, ma'am. I was talking to myself."

She frowns, speeding up, getting further in front of John. He thinks, 'She's a young, good-looking woman... do I have any feelings for young, good-looking women?' It doesn't appear that I do.

He thought about that as hard as he could but couldn't manufacture feelings one way or the other. Well, an absence of feelings is a strong indicator that he has little to no interest in young, good-looking women. So, yeah, he's gay, but what he'd like to know is if, before the accident, was he 'out' as a gay young man at home and college or is he still in the closet and only gay with a boyfriend or sex buddy, if one or the other even existed.

The enormity of going home tomorrow has started to sink in, and it's making him nervous, so thank God for Andy!

With at least an hour to kill, he sees an upscale-looking cocktail lounge and gets a frightening buzzing sensation in his nuts, knowing he's going to do something he's only done once since coming out of his coma. He's going to walk into the bar by himself like a normal twenty-one-year-old who's almost twenty-two and order a beer.

It's late in the afternoon, but the office workers are still working, so there are only five people in the dimly lit bar. There's a man and a woman in their forties leaning their heads together, talking quietly until the woman does a throaty laugh. The other three patrons are sitting spread out on stools around this U-shaped bar. As he's glancing around, John's reevaluating his initial observation that this is an upscale cocktail lounge. Actually, it's more like a run-of-the-mill bar that could use a facelift.

He sits three stools away from a tough-looking guy with gray hair and a scowl on his face dressed like a construction worker. This puts John only one seat away from a well-dressed man, maybe thirty-five. He's wearing a dark blue sports coat and a white dress shirt without a tie. John only took a quick glance at the man, but it gave him the impression the man looked a little like Dr. Berry.

Without making eye contact with anyone, feeling nervously self-conscious, John sits on the stool and somehow knows, somehow can feel he's being stared at by the Dr. Berry lookalike man. It occurs to John that saying the well-dressed barfly is a Dr. Berry lookalike means the barfly is a John Darling lookalike as well, which is nerve-racking!

Waiting for the bartender to make fresh drinks for the whispering man and woman in their forties, John second-guesses his choice of stool. He could have sat on a stool around the U-curve of the bar and been four stools away instead of being only one stool away from the Dr. Berry non-lookalike. The man's sitting too close and, therefore, making John uncomfortable. He can hear the man breathing, for Christ's sake!

Not knowing where to look, he looks straight ahead, hearing, "Cutting class, huh?" That came from the sports coat barfly, the Dr. Berry non-look-alike guy. Feeling his face getting hot, John glances quickly at the man, "What? Did you say something to me?"

"Yes, I did. I'm guessing you're a college student from Fisher College dumping a class in favor of a draft beer. I'm doing something similar, except I'm a professor dumping a workshop on diversity sensitivity." Then, "Oh my, you look puzzled. Is it something I said?"

John, blushing dark red, mutters, "What...?" and the bartender drops a round cardboard coaster in front of him, saying, "I'm definitely gonna need to see some ID from you, buddy."

Looking at the bartender, his heart pounding, John considers bagging this bad idea, but that would be more humiliating than sticking it out. He says, "A draft beer. Um, please..."

The bartender grins and says, "Let me guess... you forgot your ID in the dorm. No, you lost your wallet, and you're actually twenty-three."

"What? No, oh, ID? Um, yeah, sure. I'm not twenty-three, though. I'll be twenty-two in ten weeks." The bartender exchanges raised eyebrows with the non-lookalike, well-dressed man, who shrugs. Fumbling his wallet out, John almost drops it but catches it, noticing that the professor has turned on his stool, looking and grinning at him.

Handing his driver's license to the bartender, he looks straight ahead again. The bartender looks at the license, mumbles, "I'll be damn," and hands John his license. "What was it you said you wanted? A draft?"

"Yes, a beer," and he puts his license away and then puts a ten-dollar bill on the bar. John's planning on gulping down the beer and then getting the fuck out of this bar. It was a horrendously bad idea to do this alone. The bartender puts a tall draft beer in front of John and then takes his ten-dollar bill. Dammit, it's obvious to John that he still needs Andy with him to make him feel safe.

As the change from his ten-dollar bill is slid in front of John, the professor moves to the stool next to him, saying, "You do not look old enough to be in here, not even close. Was that a fake ID you showed Ronny? I'd love to see it if you don't mind."

Gulping a third of his glass of beer, John says, "I'm sorry, but I do not know anyone named Ronny. And that was my driver's license I showed the bartender, and it's not fake, so..."

Chuckling, the professor says, "So why don't you want to show it to me?"

John turns his head to look and only now realizes the guy moved right next to him. As soon as he mutters, "I mistakenly thought you looked like someone," he's angry with himself for saying it. The last thing he wants to do is encourage conversation with this aggressive person. Plus, now that he sees this guy closer, he doesn't look remotely like Dr. Berry. They sound alike, is what it was. They sound alike, and both are smugly arrogant and super confident.

The professor asks, "Who do I look like?" John shakes his head and gulps more beer as the bartender asks, "Can I get you another bourbon and branch, professor?"

"Yeah, Ronny, and get my new friend here a beer on me."

John goes, "No, um, I'm good," but the bartender already was pouring another Miller Lite. He sets the full glass in front of John's first glass, already three-quarters empty. John does a big burp, and the professor chuckles as he pats John's shoulder and mutters, "You are as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a rocking chair factory."


"Haha, you're something alright. What's your major at Fisher? I'm Professor Tom Bacon, by the way, head of the Department of Urban Studies and Planning. We're both cutting class, so relax. I'm not turning you in."

John mumbles, "I don't go to Fisher College. I'm a senior at Duke University, but taking a year off, and I am old enough to drink in bars... if I feel like it."

"Whoa, easy there! Duke, huh? That's impressive. What are you doing in Boston?"

John doesn't want to go into that, so he changes the subject, "I didn't know that urban study and planning was, um, a college course." Then, still uncomfortable and nervous, he takes out his box of Marlboro cigarettes, and then he doesn't know what to do with it.

The professor says, "Um, you must know that there is a smoking ban in all public places. I'm sure the same holds for Durham, North Carolina, right?"

"Of course, I'm not going to smoke. I just, um... so what did you say about urban planning?"

Tom drinks his bourbon, then says, "You've never heard of that, huh? Have you ever heard of Lewis Mumford, the urban planner and historian who analyzed the effects of technology and urbanization throughout history? He lived from 1895 to 1990, so he saw the world change."

"Who? Lewis, who... Dumphy? No, I don't think I've ever heard of him."

Smiling his confident smile, looking handsome, Professor Tom says, "His name was Lewis Mumford, not Dumphy. He coined the best description for cities. He said... cities give you the most options in the least amount of space. He had this to say about traffic congestion... 'adding a highway lane to deal with traffic congestion is like loosening your belt to deal with obesity.'

John finished his second beer, and now he's feeling a little cocky. "Oh, I guess," and he holds up a finger to get the bartender's attention, but the professor calls out, "Ronny, another round on me."

John puts his arm down and mumbles, "I was going to buy this round."

The professor says, "College students don't have any money. So, I see you're not impressed with my information about Lewis Mumford, so do you know who Arnold Funenberg is? Ever heard of him?"

The bartender puts a full draft in front of John, and Professor Tom says, "Give us both a shot of Wild Turkey, Ronny. Put everything on my tab." Then he squeezes John's shoulder, saying, "We're being bad, cutting classes the first day of the week, so we might as well go all the way. Right, um, what'd you say your name was?"

Slipping into his imitation lisp, John says, "I'm John Darling, but I don't do shots of bourbon... or shots of anything, for that matter. And I have money."

Picking up on the lisping, Tom puts his arm across John's shoulders and hugs him, pulling him partially off his stool. John needs to lean against the professor and put his hand on the professor's thigh to keep from falling on his ass. Grinning at John's distress, the professor says, "Don't make me drink both shots, John."

Helping John get upright on his stool, Tom says, "Here ya go," leaving his arm on John as he holds the little shot glass out to him with the other hand. John can't let the shot just hang there, so he takes it. Tom picks his shot glass up, taps it against John's, and says, "Here's to skipping class, John Darling, and what a darling name, too," and he chugs his shot of bourbon as John makes a face, swallowing, once, twice, three times before getting the ounce and a half of bourbon down his burning stomach and throat.

Eyes watering, John coughs and chugs beer, then gasping, he sputters, "That was horrendous, Omigod..."

Laughing, Tom pulls docile John against his side again, then his hand rubs up the back of John's head, realizing he could maul this kid if he wanted to. He isn't that way, though, and says, "You're a really good-looking kid, John. Have you done any modeling? My sister owns the 'Models of the Back Bay' company. I could get you a gig modeling, no problem. The pay is pretty good to start and can get really good if you catch on."

Professor Tom's voice is identical to Dr. Berry's, and the way Professor Tom is speaking so confidently and smoothly, rubbing his hand on John's head and hugging his shoulder, being in complete control of things, plus the booze... well, it's hypnotizing John. He feels like he's in a pleasant trance, and he's not nervous or uncomfortable now. He's used to Andy manhandling him in an affectionate way, and he likes it.

"What? Modeling? Um, you're pulling me off my seat, Dr. Berry."

"Who's Dr. Berry?"

"No, I wasn't, um, Dr. Berry's nobody."

"So, you go to Duke, huh? What did you say you're doing in Boston, John?"

John, slipping into his lisping habit, tells Tom he was in an accident, then in the hospital for a couple of months, but he's better now and heading home to Wyoming."

The professor says, "Really? I drove through that state years ago when I and a young lady were on a mission to drive through all fifty states. It'd be hard to drive to the fiftieth state, but we thought about it." Then, he ordered another round, telling John, "I've gotta take off after this round. What are you planning on doing after this?"

John feels comfortable saying, "I told you. Getting something to read on the plane."

No, he didn't tell the professor that, but John's drunk.

Not getting much information from John, Tom squeezes the back of his neck, brazenly asking, "What's your boyfriend's name, John? As good-looking as you are, I'm sure you have a boyfriend."

John, without thinking, nods, "Oh, yeah, his name is Andy Salsbury, and he's a nurse. He's awesome and is coming to Wyoming with me. We're leaving tomorrow. Where'd you say you teach school?"

"Fisher College. Drink up, John. I've got to meet a lady friend."

"Oh, okay. I've gotta buy something to read on the plane."

"Uh-huh, I think you mentioned that about forty seconds ago."


They both chug their drinks. Tom nods at the bartender for the check. He puts a VISA card on it and says to John, "I'd hate myself if I didn't at least ask. Um, do you want to do something quick in the men's room with me?"

The check comes, and Tom signs it, adds a tip, and says, "Thanks, Ronny!"

John's not so drunk he doesn't understand what Dr. Berry-sound-alike meant about doing something in the men's room together. Then, in his mind, he corrects himself, 'Don't do it, John! He's not Dr. Berry! He only sounds like him.'

John smiles to himself and, sounding nervous, a squeak in his voice; he says, "Sure, professor. Ah, as I said, you remind me of someone, but you don't look like him, not that it matters, um... one way or..." and he clears his throat.

Tom mutters, "Oh, haha, you don't say," and guides John off the bar stool and walks him down a narrow corridor to the men's room, "We both need to pee even if we don't do anything else, right?"

"Yep, I need to take a wicked piss, but you said..."

"Yeah, I know what I said, John, but I didn't expect you'd go along with it. Now I'm wondering if you're too drunk to make a decision about this. I don't do rape, and I don't take advantage of drunks. I do friendly, casual gay sex with willing partners I've only just met, like you. Well, no, not like you because you're a rare beauty."

John frowns, "What? I'm not drunk... whaddaya talking about?"

It's a single, small bathroom and has an open/occupied indicator in the middle of the door, like an airplane lavatory. The indicator is at 'open,' so Tom pushes open the door, then holds out his arm, inviting John to go inside. John, still feeling cocky, asks, "Aren't you coming in?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Sure, I'm doing new things today." Then he thinks... I think they're new, anyway.

Ignoring the odd 'doing new things' remark, Tom goes inside and hits the 'occupied' sign from inside. They both whip out their dicks and piss in the toilet, Professor Tom asking, "Do you prefer oral or anal sex, John?"

John says, "Anal. My doctor let me down and disappointed me, and you're his replacement."

Tom also ignores that odd remark and shrugs, mumbling, "That's clear enough... not!"

John frowns at him. Then, after jiggling their dicks to get the last drip of urine off, John points at the professor's penis and lisps, "That's about the size of Andy's cock. Nice!"

He's proud of himself for doing this wildly gutsy sex act with a stranger. It could only happen like this because John's seriously under the influence of booze, and Professor Tom is a nice stranger who's very confident.

"Get your pants down, John. We need to be quick about this, okay buddy?" He said that as he took a condom packet from his wallet. John drops his pants, and the professor goes, "Haha, Jesus, I like your underpants, John."

"They're girl's panties."

"Yeah, I know, plus you shave your pubes. That's pretty sexy. I'll bet you have a lot of fun, don'cha?"


"Never mind. Hold onto the sink and bend over."

John does that, pushing his ass out the way he does for Andy. The professor rubs his penis on John's buttocks. It quickly gets firm, so he rolls on the condom, mumbling, "Today started out really shitty for me, but you've turned it into one of my best days this semester, John. Thank you!"

John's not paying attention because he's really excited about this, plus nervous, so he goes, "What? What'd you ask?" Then he groans, "Ahh! OW!" as Tom's cock forced its way in past John's anus muscles.

Tom expected that screech of initial pain, so he ignored it and muttered, "That won't last long," and he, right away, drove his big boner all the way up John's ass with John groaning in pain, "Ahh, umm... Jesus..." going up on his toes. It really hurt, but only temporarily. Plus, pain or not, John's cock got ridiculously hard, ridiculously fast because he got incredibly turned on by the professor's dominance.

The professor is never a gentle top with his pick-up boys. He grunts with the effort of giving John the hardest, fastest fuck of his life, almost as if the professor is mad at John. He's not mad, though. Not at all! It's just that Tom always fucks his bar pick-ups like this because he assumes this is how they like it. Well, to be honest, Tom fucks like this because he likes doing it this way, and he only hopes his pick-up partners do too. No, that's not totally true either. Professor Tom likes fucking hard and fast, and he doesn't give a shit if his pick-up sex partner likes it or not. Now, we've got it right.

Slap, slap, slap sounds, with John pushed up against the sink, his hands gripping the edge of the sink bowl, his boner between his belly and the front of the sink.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah," John grunts as a million streaks of sexy pleasure and almost as many streaks of pain compete for John's attention. By the one-minute mark of this fuck, though, everything had turned positive for John. The pain is a distant memory, and now only a hard erotic pleasure vibration pulsates in John's mind, and his rectum has become a treasure trove of sexual pleasure.

The hard thrusting of Professor Tom's engorged boner and his heavy breathing have put John into another dreamy trance. He feels he's finally being completely dominated in the proper way, knowing somehow that his dominant top couldn't care less if John's enjoying this fucking of his ass or not. It's all about the dominant top enjoying himself, and submissive John agrees with that.

In his submissive frame of mind, John has a squirmy, delicious, increasing sense of submissiveness to his top. It's such a sexy turn-on to be submissive to his superior, dominant top, so much so that John even stopped his grunting because it might be annoying his top. Instead of his grunts, John's now making quiet, sissy-sounding wimpy whines. "Ee, eee, eee..."

Hot, moist, noisy breaths from Tom dampen the back of John's neck, Tom's fingers digging into John's hips as he mutters, "Come on, fag, come on, do it!"

John's not sure if he's referring to him or himself. Out of nowhere, he feels his climax building, and it's growing in strength way too fast. His body tightens as he pushes slightly away from the sink, squealing, "Eeeeii, ahh!" cum firing hot and creamy from his boner, shooting up in an arc to drop down with a splat below the mirror over the sink.

The professor grunts, "Ha! Nice one, kid." and humps hard against John's buttocks, humping once, then again, shooting two loads of hot juicy cum into the condom."

"Wow, whew, that was wonderful, John," says the professor as he pulls his cock from John's ass, with John whining, "No, no, don't..." then shaking, shuddering, and leaning over the sink, "Umm, that felt so good."

"SMACK!" the professor whacks John's ass with the palm of his hand, "Pull up your pants! Let's get out of here."

The toilet flushes as John's head clears. He turns around, pulling his pants up, seeing the professor at the door, "You okay, John?"

John nods, "Uh-huh, that was really the best, um..." but the professor is out of the restroom now, holding the door open for John, "C'mon, I've gotta run."

As they walk through the bar, the bartender's back is to them as he's mixing drinks for three women who came in while the professor was fucking John. "Until next time, Ronny," yells the professor, and outside the bar, Tom says, "That was great, John. I loved it! Are you really flying to Wyoming tomorrow?"

Nodding, John says, "Yes, but could we have, ah, right here, have a drink tonight?"

Smiling, the professor says, "Aw, that was nice of you, making me feel that an old professor did okay for a young stud like you. No, though, I'm sorry I can't have a drink with you tonight. I have an engagement, but you're truly awesome! Bye, John," and he actually jogs toward the Prudential Center Mall's exit.

John stood in place, watching the professor leave the Mall. He's feeling giddy and thrilled about this, anxious to tell Andy. They were talking about someone picking John up in a bar earlier today, and it's already happened. Hot shit!!

When two people almost run into him, John shakes off his inactivity and says, "That rocked," and then gets out of the middle of the aisle, walking back to the barbershop, pinching the material of his jeans, trying to pull the girl panties out of this asshole, the sleek material is stuck in the sticky lube up his asshole.

At the barbershop, there's no sign of Andy. John mutters, "I guess I was at the bar longer than I thought." Unsure of what he should do now, but... wait! Omigod, there's the good-looking African-American kid just now paying for his haircut. Nice haircut! Yeah, but he was at the shop before John and Andy arrived, so where's Andy?

John waits for the kid to come out of the barbershop and says, "Um, excuse me, remember me? I was with the guy with a ponytail, um..." The kid holds his hand in front of his nose, saying, "Do you drink much, booze breath?"

"I'm sorry about that. Do you know what happened to my ponytail friend?"

But John already knows because, looking past the kid, John sees Andy coming out of a back room with one of the young barbers. Andy has a towel on his head. The kid says, "Yeah, he went in the back with Jerry for a shampoo."

Nodding, feeling relief, John says, "Thank you. Yes, I see him coming back now, um, thanks..."

The good-looking black kid asks, "Are you a gay movie star or something? Maybe a TV star in a show, or...? You're pretty, ya know? Best looking honkey motherfucker I've ever seen."

John smiles and holds out his fist, "Hey, thanks!" The kid pretends he's going to bump fists, then pulls his arm up and away, muttering, "I'm not bumping fists with no fag," and he walks away.

Frowning at the kid's back, John shrugs and goes into the barbershop and sits in the same waiting chair he sat in earlier. A minute later, the woman behind the counter says, "Excuse me. Hello..." John glances over, not believing she could be talking to him. He goes, "Me? What?"

"If you're waiting for a haircut, you need to check in with me first."

John touches his head of short hair, then shakes his head and lisps, sounding snarky because he's partially drunk, "Do I look like I need a haircut? I'm waiting for my friend, okay?"

She looks huffy. It's probably been a long day, "Suit yourself," she mutters. Then she answers the ringing phone on the counter next to her.

John relaxes back in the chair, thinking, 'That's the way I should be all the time. I'm not taking any shit from, um...'

Then he starts moving his ass on the seat because his asshole is itchy with lubricant. What it is, is the girlie panties unused to an asshole full of slippery lubricant are sticking to it. He mutters, "Damn,' under his breath, then watches in fascination as six inches of Andy's brown hair ponytail drops to the floor, but then the cool-looking barber isn't cutting the rest of Andy's hair very short. The haircut ends up as a MUCH longer version of John's haircut with a part on the side and pompadour in front.

Then there's some unnecessary scissors clipping here and there to extend the time of the haircut, with the barber probably hoping for a bigger tip. Finally, the cape comes off, and Andy's getting out of the barber chair. He gives the barber a tip, then pays at the front counter. Then he looks over and smiles at John, pointing at his head, perhaps self-conscious about his head of hair without a ponytail for the first time in almost ten years. John gets up, grinning back at Andy.

As they're walking out of the barbershop side by side, Andy asks, "What do you think, Darling? Do I look respectable and trustworthy?"

"To me, you've always looked respectable and trustworthy, but I suppose you look even more so now."

Andy, with an incredulous expression, asks, "Where were you drinking? Did you go into that bar next to the CVS by yourself?"

"It's my booze breath, right? That's how you knew. The sweet-looking black kid knew I'd been drinking right away, too."

Andy takes hold of John's arm, stopping them. "Black kid? What are you talking about? How much did you have to drink?" Then Andy sees John isn't carrying anything, "And you didn't get anything for us to read on the plane?"

"No, listen, Andy. I wanted to make you proud, so I went into that bar alone and ordered a draft beer. After the bartender carded me, a college professor bought me a couple of rounds of beer, and I had a shot of bourbon. He bought the shots, too. So, yeah, I drank a shot of whiskey! It could have been my first one ever, for all I know."

John's picking at his pants in the back while telling Andy about his bar experience. Andy's like, 'What's wrong with your rear end? Is the pantie getting tight?"

"No, that's the big thing I want to tell you about, Andy. My ass is itchy with lubricant from the condom the professor used fucking my brains out, making up for that prick, Dr. Berry stiffing me today."

Andy's frowning, "Are you serious?"

"Uh-huh, I told him I was doing new things today. But why are you looking at me that way? I thought you'd be pleased. We were talking about this kind of thing before we left for the mall, and you said..."

Shaking his head, Andy holds up a hand, "No, it's okay, but holy shit. Just like that? You have a beer, and somebody picks you up and fucks you in The Prudential Center's Mall? A daytime pick-up? And it all happened in less than an hour? I mean, ah, it's, um, it's mindboggling, it's ridiculous!"

"What? You're not mad at me, are you? You seem, um, I don't know..."

Andy gets them walking to the end of the mall, where taxis are usually waiting for fares. He says, "In real life, before the accident, you must have been mostly like you are now, meaning, ah, unbelievable. No one can live twenty-one years and be a senior at Duke University and be as naively clueless as you pretend you are Darling. It's, um, well, um, I already said it... it's mindboggling."

"Whaddaya mean Andy? That sounds like you're shitting on me. Have you ever considered that when I lost my memory, I lost all those years of experiencing life as well? That's why I need you. That's why I'm paying you to help me as my full-time nurse. There's no need to shit on me when I haven't done anything wrong. Maybe it's the fucking college professor who did something wrong. Wrong as a college professor, anyway."

Andy stops them again, "Okay, okay, Darling. I see your point. My bad, you're right, but, Gawd, who has shit happening to them like you? It's, um, otherworldly."

John mutters, "And mindboggling."

Andy feels bad now, "I'm sorry, Johnny. Really, I am. You're right that this is all pretty much new to you. Your amnesia blocks everything you've learned, and... I apologize, I'm sorry..."

Putting his arms around Andy, John murmurs, "That's okay, we're good. It's just that I expected you'd be proud of me."

"I am proud of you, but I can't lie and say I'm happy somebody fucked you. I'm jealous, but in a way, yeah, I am happy that you're making progress doing stuff on your own. But how about my haircut? Do you like it?"

John exaggerates he's inspecting Andy's haircut. The truth is, he doesn't care about Andy's haircut any more than he cares about his own. Hair is hair, and it keeps growing no matter what. Then he notices, walking behind Andy, there's a bald guy who doesn't look old enough to be bald. So, yeah, hair doesn't always keep growing...

Looking back at Andy, John says, "Yep, you look responsible and trustworthy with that great-looking haircut, Andy. It's, um, perfect."

Andy makes a face like, 'Seriously?' and then mutters, "That's bullshit, but c'mon, let's get a taxi back to the hotel."

In the backseat of the taxi, John is still picking at his ass, grumping, "I can't wait to shower. This itching asshole of mine is driving me crazy."

Andy snickers, then whispers, so the driver won't hear him, "Oh, you poor thing. I'm sorry that I can't work up a lot of sympathy for you, considering the cause of your itchy asshole."

John quietly says, "I'm proud of myself, but I can't help wondering if, before the accident, I might have been a slut, always anxious to take it up the ass from anyone who's dominant enough to suggest it. What do you think, Andy?"

"Too little evidence to come to a definitive conclusion about that... not even close. Tell me this, Darling: if the opportunity presented itself tomorrow, would you do it again?"

"Well, that depends on you. I wouldn't if you tell me not to."

The taxi pulls up to the hotel. John steps out of the cab as Andy deals with the cab fare and tip, then he joins John and automatically holds his hand as they go into the lobby. Andy asks, "So, if I left it up to you, Darling, would you again let a stranger fuck you?"

"No, you need to tell me first if it's okay for me to do it or not. Then I'll tell you what I'd do."

Shaking his head, Andy pushes the elevator button as two women join the guys waiting for an elevator going up. Keeping his voice low, Andy says, "I'm leaving it up to you."

John snickers at that, giving Andy a 'look' like, 'Are you sure you wanna do that?' then he glances at the women who are determiningly not noticing the boys holding hands. He leans close to Andy's ear and says quietly, "Damn, I guess if you leave it up to me, and the guy was nice looking, confidently dominant, and I liked him okay, um, I couldn't resist that kind of guy, could I? It's like me resisting you... no way! So I guess, yeah, I'd do it again tomorrow. Would you be disappointed if I did?"

The elevator doors open with five passengers getting off and the two women plus the guys getting on. Andy waits for the older-looking woman to push the button for their floor. She presses a button for the tenth floor, then he pushes the third-floor button and gives John a stern look with a small shake of his head, so John asks, "What?"

Andy whispers, "We'll discuss this further when we're in our suite." John frowns at Andy, then gives the two women in the car a grin. The woman with her hair in a bun smiles at him, so John gives her his thousand-dollar smile and mouths, "Hi," without making a sound.

It's dead quiet in the elevator as all four humans are now looking up at the floor indicator. The light moves from floor one to two to three, and the car stops, and the doors open. John gives the ladies a little wave, and they both smile at him. The boys get off hand in hand, John saying, "They smiled at me."

Shrugging, Andy mumbles, "Christ, Darling, you're so good-looking it makes people smile when they see you. I'm getting used to seeing you, but I still want to smile every time I look at you. Human beings, when looking at a cute two-month-old human baby, can't help but smile. Our human brains are programmed to smile at beautiful or really cute things, and nothing is more beautiful AND CUTE than a human baby. To humans, I mean.

Unlocking the site's door, Andy continues his lecture, "It's almost the same thing when humans see a freak of Nature like yourself, but a freak in a good way with your amazingly cute, handsome looks... some hate you because they're jealous, but most humans smile in admiration. That's a human thing. Who knows what Zombies, for example, might think is beautiful? A ten-day-old corpse might automatically make them smile, ya know?"

"What?" Andy chuckles and shakes his head. Inside their suite again, John hugs Andy, murmuring, "I love hugging you. Ah, tell me you're not angry with me, Andy... please."

"I'm not angry with you."

"I don't believe you."

Andy grins, turns in John's arms, and kisses his lips. "Ya know, Johnny, the fact that you're so concerned that I might be angry with you makes me feel special, and nobody but you has ever made me feel special. The only other person who slightly made me feel special was Manny Ortiz, and only because he likes fucking my ass so much. He always tells me I've got the best ass for fucking he's ever, um, fucked."

As they let go of one another, John's like, "Oh, you never mentioned this guy Manny before. Should I be jealous? And with him, you're the bottom, huh? Wow, I know you prefer that big time! Um, do you want me to fuck you sometime?"

"It'd be okay with me if you want to, but I'm more concerned about helping you regain your memory, so until then, we'll keep it the way it is now."

"Yeah, that's my first choice too. And, by the way, you can get a lot more dominant with me if you feel like it."

"Sorry, but I'm already as dominant as I'm capable of being, which isn't a whole lot."

John goes, "That's okay. I think you're the best. Um, how do you know this Manny guy, anyway?"

"I went to high school with him. He's a quiet guy who I meet every week, and sometimes he'll be in the mood to fuck me. He has stamina and has often fucked my ass for up to twenty minutes. He does it in the back of the hearse he drives for the Spenser Funeral Home. He'll only do me bareback, so it's up to me to make sure I'm lubed up good in case that's the night he'll be in the mood. He's always in the mood to have his dick sucked, so that is something I can depend on every week."

"Gee, I think I am jealous, so knock off the Manny stories!"

"Yeah, well, watch it! You're getting mouthy again."

"Sorry, Andy. It's okay to tell me more about Manny."

"He has a really short penis at about two-and-a-half inches, tops. It might not be that long, but it's kind of fat and is a decent mouthful when I'm sucking him off. Get this, though... he has the largest balls of anyone I've ever seen. Oh man, his orgasm loads are out of this world. In high school, before I got to be a bit of an expert at oral sex, I'd always choke on Manny's cum loads, and he'd always murmur, 'Sorry, Salsbury.' Every Goddamn time it was always the same thing. Just a murmured, 'Sorry, Salsbury.' He's a good guy. Having lunch in the cafeteria, he'd buy me a small milk carton sometimes. You know, because I sucked him off so good."

"Uh-huh, a small milk? Jesus, that's not much. And your dick is sort of fat, too, Andy. It opens my anus up pretty well. It's pretty awesome, actually. Well, did you tell Manny goodbye?"

"No, and I should do that right after we have dinner. Thanks for reminding me. It's Monday, which is Manny's, and my regular night at the bus station. We always meet at the bus station because Manny likes the watered-down lemonade drink they sell there."

John goes, "What? That sounds fucked up."

"Yeah, well, he likes it. Do you wanna come with me?"

"Of course, I want to, but should I? I mean, what if it's a night he feels like fucking you?"

"Oh wow, that would be out of this world fantastic because he'd do us both at the same time. About every six weeks, Danny Sullivan will show up, and Manny will do us both. That is the ultimate erotic sexual experience for me, getting fucked with Danny right next to me, him getting fucked too. Danny and I hold hands like you and I do, Darling. It's marvelous."

"Oh, wow!"

"Yep, it's the hottest sex thus far in my life. Manny puts Danny and me on our hands and knees. He'll spank us a little, and then he'll fuck Danny for a while, always Danny first, fucking him until he's moaning with pleasure. Satisfied he's fucked Danny enough, Manny will drive his sloppy boner up my ass and fuck me for a while, then back to Danny. And, as I said, Manny has stamina you won't believe."

"Holy shit! That does sound hot as hell."

"Yeah, but we'll need to first take turns sucking on his fat penis as well as his heavy, super large nuts."

"Damn, I'm boning up..."

To be continued...

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Next: Chapter 11

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