By Donny Mumford - Laureate Author

Published on Nov 24, 2023




After their deeply felt sexual experience near the bubbling brook on that little piece of paradise, the guys were silent, almost solemn, driving back to the city. They weren't talking, but every couple of minutes, they'd exchange smiles, and Andy would hold out his right hand for John to give a quick squeeze, or they'd bump fists, feeling good about themselves.

They'd made love in the middle of nature's beauty under the bright blue sky with puffy, impossibly white clouds drifting slowly wherever the breeze took them. It was beautiful, but it wasn't just the place where they had sex... it was special because they thought they were making love, not merely fucking. It had a special feel, yes, but since neither guy had ever been in love, they're mostly guessing that's what 'making love' probably feels like.

They both embraced the specialness of that shared experience without articulating precisely what it was that elevated it beyond their previous sexual experiences. Still, they both, in their own way, treated the moment with a sort of reverence.

Sitting in the rental car's shotgun seat, John was grateful for his idol's help and his company. This five-foot-eight, hundred-and-forty-pound blond-headed, average-looking, brown-eyed boyfriend, nurse's assistant, Andy Salsbury. John admired and trusted him, especially after he'd heard Andy talking to himself, not knowing John had awakened, saying how he, Andy, intended to do what was best for John and not what was best for himself.

Andy is only a few months older than John, but he frequently needs to treat John as a parent might. That's because John's amnesia makes him unsure of himself and unsure of almost everything, so he's highly dependent on Andy and sometimes feels and acts like an overly emotional child.

When John was in his coma, Andy felt guilty for having his giddy sexual fantasies about doing sexual things with John. His feelings for John are no longer giddy, and they're no longer fantasies. Andy has a love for John, and that's as serious and real as it gets for him. He knows it's a different kind of love he feels for John, different from 'being in love.'

Any form of love, however, needs to take a back seat to Andy's commitment to emphasize what's best for John, which is very different from what's best for Andy. What's best for Andy, in his mind, would be to have fun doting on John, spoiling him, and basking in the glow of affection from John for giving him whatever he wanted.

Andy's aware that when John gets his memory back, he won't need Andy treating him like a child, and he won't need Andy's bossy take-charge demeanor, so where will that leave Andy? John might look back on Andy's handling of things and resent Andy's control of him, and he might resent Andy using his credit cards, and John might begin to think that Andy took advantage of his amnesia.

That's what Andy's afraid could happen... that old warning that no good deed goes unpunished. Andy also fears that John will regain his memory and prefer whoever he was having sex with before the accident, leaving Andy on his own in Wyoming without knowing another soul and without a job.

So, that's on Andy's mind, but even so, he will continue to do what he feels is in John's best interest. His minimum goal is to get John past his amnesia and satisfactorily enrolled at Duke University as a senior. If he is still in John's life after that, that's icing on his cake, metaphorically speaking.

Back at the hotel, they left the car and a ten-dollar tip with a redheaded, freckle-faced twenty-something-year-old valet parking attendant who gave them a ticket for the car and told them overnight parking cost fifty dollars. As usual, John left it up to Andy to deal with that transaction, but he enjoyed staring at the redhead, who got into the car, then smiled and winked at John.

John blushed and grinned at the kid as his dick squirmed in his pants, but he probably wouldn't do anything with that cute sexy young guy even if he could. Andy Salsbury was his boyfriend, so John thought that might mean he couldn't have buddy sex with anyone else, although that seemed very rigid. He couldn't remember how that worked, assuming he ever knew the proper thing to do in that case. Still, there couldn't be any harm in looking and appreciating the desirability of confident, sexy, cute young men. Without knowing how he felt about this prior to the accident, John was now of the opinion of... what's the harm of a little sexual variety?

Sunday has been busy, but it was fun and sexy, too. Watching the rental car drive away, Andy puts an arm around John's waist, squeezes him, and says, "How about if we shower, then have dinner down the street at McDonald's, then get to bed early?"

Leaning against Andy, John murmurs, "Okay, Andy."

Smiling at John, Andy takes his arm off John's waist and rubs his fingers through John's short hair, "You'd say 'okay, Andy' if I'd said let's have a gourmet dinner and then sneak out without paying, wouldn't you?"

"If you say so, Andy." Andy chuckles and kisses John's cheek, "First, though, we need to get something for your sunburn."

When they turn to enter the hotel, Andy sees two husky older teenage boys watching them. The short one mimicked Andy kissing John by pretending to kiss his taller buddy, exaggerating his kissing lips. Andy grinned at the boys, then kissed John again. The short boy muttered, "Fucking, faggots," and gave them his middle finger. The taller boy had a faraway look in his eyes as he adjusted his junk, staring at John Darling, who half-smiled back at him. With a huge smile now, the taller kid nodded as if he and John had made a pact.

After guiding John into the hotel's gift shop, Andy buys a tube of Solarcaine Aloe Extra for John's sunburn. As they leave the shop, he says, "I'll smear some of this creme on your sunburn after we shower."

In their suite, Andy says, "Before we shower, though, I've been thinking all day about your feet. Hee-hee, yeah, seriously. You got my foot fetish roaring hot that time, and I've been thinking about your feet, your sweat socks, and sneakers. I'm pretty sure your feet will have the most adorable smell."

John goes, "That foot fetish thing didn't bring anything to mind, so I don't believe I've ever even thought about anybody's feet."

Putting the Solarcaine on an end table, Andy says, "Probably not, but this will be a rare foot fetish treat for me. Let me worship your feet, and maybe we can try sixty-nine blow jobs after that."

"Oh, boy, yeah. I'd like that. I'm pretty sure I've never done that before, either. I'm learning sexy things from you, Andy. My sex buddy back home or at college, assuming I had one or both, probably isn't especially experienced because I don't think I've done anything sexual except bottom for anal sex, and, of course, I'm sure I've sucked dick."

"Yeah, well, we just don't know, Johnny, so it makes sense that we try everything, hoping something will jog your memory. Something we do might make you remember doing it with so-and-so, ya know?"

They're still pretending their sex is primarily to help John's memory recovery. So, getting undressed in the bedroom, John nods that he agrees with his idol.

Naked, Andy says, "Lie on the bedspread, Darling, and I'll give your feet a good licking." Andy makes it sound like he's doing John a favor, but John doesn't care because he can't get enough of anything that's even slightly sexy. Lying on his back on the bed, John looks at Andy the way a puppy dog looks at his master. He mumbles, "I like it when you tell me to do something, sounding confident about it. That sends a buzzing sensation to my nuts."

Andy's extremely revved-up to get into his foot fetish, so he's not paying much attention to what John's saying. He merely mutters, "Uh-huh, that's good to hear," as he picks up John's sneakers and, sitting on the side of the mattress, puts John's left sneaker over his nose and inhales, going, "Mmmm, mmm, nice! Delicious foot odor, Darling. Not gross, very noticeable, but also very pleasant."

He tries the other sneaker, nods, mumbling, "Excellent," and then lies back on the mattress with John's sweat socks draped over his nose and mouth. He chews on one of the socks, his penis rising as it gets firmer and firmer. John squints, watching this, thinking... what the fuck?

Licking Andy's feet was sexy to John, but only because he felt very submissive to his dominant idol by doing that, which made his dick quiver. With John's socks over his nose, Andy gasps, strokes his now hard dick, then tosses the socks to the floor and sits up.

He gets on his knees at the foot of the bed, leaning over, Andy puts his nose on John's right foot, sniffs and nods to himself, then licks from the ankle across the top of John's foot to his toes, then drags his nose in the saliva trail he left behind and does the same thing to the other foot.

John mutters, "That felt messy." Andy goes, "Shhh!" and then slides off the foot of the bed to pick up John's right foot and drag his nose from the toes to the heel. He licks the heel, licks up to the toes, and sucks on the toes, leaving them in his mouth for two minutes while rubbing his stiff cock and humming the first verse of, It's A Grand Old Flag.

When he drops the foot, John notices a dreamy look in Andy's eyes but doesn't say anything because that might ruin the moment for Andy.

After a few more minutes of smelling, fondling, and licking John Darling's feet, Andy takes a deep breath, looks at John, moans, and closes his eyes. "Fabulous feet, Johnny, but I'd expect no less. What I'd like us to do sometime, though, is go hiking on an overnight camping trip. There'd be no washing or cleaning for two days of sweaty exertion, long hikes without changing clothes, socks, or sneakers, then we'd both strip naked, and you'd lie on your back and, starting from your feet, I'd smell... um, oh," he coughs and says, "Ah, never mind that for now..."

John stares at Andy's fat boner, waiting for Andy to say something else. When he doesn't, John mumbles, "Didn't you mention something about us doing sixty-nine?"

"Oh, fuck. Yes, of course, John. It's just that your feet have the most unique smell. It wasn't a musty smell at all, or... Oh, yeah, sixty-nine, um, uh-huh. Let's do that. My boner is achingly hard."

Casually playing with himself, John mutters, "Like I already said, as far as I know, I've never done this sixty-nine thing in my life, but I've seen it on porn sites, so I know what to do."

John's uneasy because he hasn't seen Andy acting this discombobulated before. He asks, "Are you okay, Andy? We don't have to..."

Andy grins and chuckles, then mutters, "Of course, we do! We're good, Darling. Ha, it's just that no one let me do that foot fetish thing, so I was overwhelmed at the power of that little fetish. I'm good to go now, though," and he lies on the bed head to foot with John. Staring at John's feet, he resists the urge to pick one up; instead, he slides his head back until he's looking straight at John's five-inch, slightly skinny penis.

John touches Andy's boner and mutters, "Whoa, that's a wicked hard dick, alright..."

Andy's boner is harder than hard, more like petrified wood, sticking straight up. John asks, "Can I start blowing you now, Andy?"

"Yep, let's go. I'm extremely aroused from the foot play, so don't be surprised if I blow off my climax really fast, Johnny."

Andy squeezes John's dick with three fingers... middle finger, forefinger, and thumb, then strokes up and down on it, getting it to firm up quickly. He likes maintaining eye contact when sucking a guy off, but you can't when doing sixty-nine blowjobs. What he can do is his famous ice cream cone licking-like-a-dog maneuver. Meaning he licks the head of a guy's cock wicked fast, like a dog licking an ice cream cone, so quickly you can barely see the dog's tongue moving.

It takes practice to move your tongue that fast and Andy had plenty of practice licking his classmates' dicks in high school. His rapidly licking tongue creates constant vibrating sensations on the head of John's cock. This kind of sensation can quickly render a guy senseless with pleasure.

Maintaining a steady rhythm of continuous fast licks builds and sustains sensations on a guy's penis that can be too intense and too close to pain for the guy to make any sense of it. It can also bring on a violently delicious climax. Pain tolerance increases with sexual arousal, so teeth scraping on a wickedly hard boner will usually get your sex buddy to blow his load, screeching like a toddler who can't find its pacifier.

Meanwhile, John's holding Andy's boner in his fingers but not doing anything else because of the enormous pleasure sensations coming off his dick. Andy's licking John's cock wicked fast and steady, John's facial features frozen as he absorbs a million tingling sensations buzzing all over and around his hard dick, temporarily paralyzing him.

When Andy finally takes a gasping breath, giving his tongue a rest, John shakes off his temporary paralysis. With his eyes blinking as if he just woke up, John puts Andy's cock in his mouth, closes his eyes, and enjoys the feel of a large, heavy penis on his tongue. Slurping on the head a few times increases saliva flow, then he hums on Andy's hard-as-stone penis the way Andy hummed the tune with John's toes in his mouth.

After swishing the saliva around with his tongue, John covers his teeth and goes down Andy's longish, fat boner, the head plugging into John's throat a good two inches as he shudders, gags, and goes down on it again. Andy licks the head of John's cock, then goes down on it at the same time John is going down on his big throbbing boner.

Sixty-nining each other, their heads bobbing back and forth on ridiculously hard boners, creates slobbery wet moans from both guys. They're bobbing on cocks that are diving into throats, but only for a minute or so, then John's cock explodes with cum pouring out as he gags on Andy's big-boy boner.

Sensations explode off his super-charged, super sensitive penis in the best ways possible, pleasure so strong John forgot Andy's cock and lets it flops out of his mouth just as Andy's climax blows out cum that splatters on John's face. He pushes Andy's boner to the side as the last spurts of cum wet a shiny cum line across his cheek.

Now it's a duo of heavy breathing, coughing, and watery eyes, John still holding Andy's softening penis. As his brain clears a little, John lets go of Andy's dick and scrambles around so Andy can hug him, and he can hug Andy. They're wet with cum as spit is drooling down their dicks, the two dicks now squished together between them. Then, taking deep breaths, Andy mutters, "Omigod, that was the hardest I've ever blown a load, Darling. Holy shit... fantastic!"

John's still trying to catch his breath, muttering, "You blew your loads in my face, but that's okay."

"Well, that's a good lesson for you, right? From now on, you'll know that when sucking me off, don't take my dick out of your mouth until I've climaxed."

John starts to argue, "You bit my boner, and..." Then they both start snickering, then they're laughing out loud, and then kissing in a wild make-out.

Breaking off the kissing, Andy says, "The cum shot on your cheek is on my lips now. We need to clean up. Do you want to shower first?"

John shook his head and snuggled in Andy's arms. They stayed like this for a few more minutes, then Andy murmured, "If I don't get moving, Johnny, we'll end up going to sleep with cum all over us."

John murmurs, "It's your cum," and Andy mutters, "We're not going to talk about that," and he separates as John mutters, "No, stay with me..."

Andy smiles, pulls on his dick, saying, "You're being a baby, Darling."

John calls after him as Andy heads to the bathroom, "No, I'm not..."

Andy's in the shower stall with water pouring down on him for less than a minute when the shower stall's door opens. Andy made a face, pretending to be shocked, but he wasn't. He smirked at a naked, grinning John Darling, who gets in the shower stall with Andy. "Oh, you changed your mind, huh, Johnny?"

Still grinning, John mumbles, "I can't be trusted showering by myself. I might forget to rinse off..."

For the hell and fun of it, they shampooed each other's hair, John complaining, "I've got a much harder job than you, Andy. You've got ten times as much hair as me."

"It's more like fifty times as much." Then Andy turns the tables on John by asking him for advice. "Johnny, should I get a short haircut like yours? Would I look cooler and more trustworthy without a ponytail?"

John shrugs, "Huh? Why are you asking me?"

"Well, from pictures your attorney showed you, you rocked a preppy 'look' at Duke... and your clothes and haircut were preppy when you came to Boston, right?"

John says, "Oh, do you mean I could have been a Gen Z zoomer looking all 'zaddy.' Hah-hah. Um, I don't remember if I was, but you're right about the photos of me and my roommate. As for your ponytail, it's a Daniel Boone look, so if that's your goal... ha-ha, you're there. No, I'm kidding. Seriously, many guys are rocking haircuts like those worn by guys in the seventies and eighties. Hell, I wanted a ponytail like yours, um, but only because you have one."

"I understand that's what you wanted, but I want to know if I should get a haircut like yours. I'm asking your opinion about that, bro?"

"You're making me nervous, Andy! I can't decide that for you."

Then John steps back, looking at Andy's wet hair hanging almost to his shoulders, and mumbles, "All that hair looks like a lot of trouble to take care of. Um, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but yes, you'd look better if you looked more like my roommate with a haircut like mine."

They both opened their mouths wide, shocked! Andy says, "You're remembering! You said, like your roommate? What do you remember about his hair, Johnny?"

John makes a face, "I just said that I remembered the picture my attorney showed me of him, of Brian O'Neal... but I do not remember Brian the person, per se. And, yeah, he had a haircut like mine in the picture. Not blond hair, though.

Thinking about that, they wash their bodies, and when rinsing, Andy says, "I'm going to do it, Johnny! I've decided I'm going to get a regular haircut before we get to your house. I'm representing you, so I should appear, um, you know, normal and not some ponytailed radical that I might be misconstrued as being. Plus, you were right; this long hair is a pain in the ass."

John mumbles, "I think you'll look fine with short hair, but don't do it; don't do that or anything else because of anything I said. I don't want that responsibility."

"Whaddaya talking about? You didn't say anything!"

"Oh, that's good, then!"

As they're drying themselves, they grin at one another, John murmuring, "To tell you the truth, I can't wait to see you with short hair, Andy. You'll be even cuter."

Andy says, "To be cuter, I'd need to be slightly cute to start with, and I'm not, so..." He stops talking when they hear a ping. After listening to see if there's more, Andy asks, "Was that a text message ping?"

It was John's cell phone pinging a text message. Naked, the boys check their phones, and John says, "It's my phone. Dr. Berry's text says I have an appointment in his office at eleven o'clock Monday morning... tomorrow morning. If I can't make it tomorrow, I'm to text him in the morning to reschedule."

"Don't wait for tomorrow. Let's get this cleared up tonight. Text him right now that you'll be there, and can I watch? Tell him you'll feel more comfortable being hypnotized if I'm there."

John does that and immediately gets a text... 'Sorry, but no to your friend being there. See you at eleven...'

"He said no, Andy. I don't want to do it without you being with me."

Andy mutters, "Let me think..."

John waits thirty seconds, then says, "And another thing about the other day, the doctor almost came right out and said he and I should have sex. That's the unmistakable vibe I got from him. He wants to have sex with me."

Andy thinks they should explore every option available to eliminate John's amnesia. Still, the hypnotize option doesn't need to be with this doctor, and after hearing what John said about having sex with him, he says, "Screw it then. There are other hypnotist doctors; we'll find one when we get to Wyoming. Plus, we don't want to take a chance on running into that bitch, Nurse Mayfair. We got lucky coming out on top the first time with her, but let's not press our luck."

Nodding, John mumbles, "Good! I agree. Should I text him back?"

"Nah, fuck him. He sounds like a pervert."

John shrugs, muttering, "It's so weird how much he looks like me... um, what should we do now?"

"First, forget about Dr. Berry. Now I'm going to put the Solarcaine lotion on your sunburned face. Then, we'll eat a fast-food dinner at McDonald's and get into bed at a reasonable hour."

As they get dressed, John asks, "Should we try doing more sexual therapy before going to sleep?"

"Oh, yeah, of course! No sexual stone will be left unturned in our efforts to kill off your amnesia. Now though, help me with this fucked-up ponytail."

Andy combs out his long hair and then gathers it into a ponytail, mumbling, "Here, put this elastic around the hair near my fingers," handing John a rubber band.

John does what he's told, and Andy moves the elastic band closer to his skull, mumbling, "Thanks. Doing that with four hands is much easier."

At McDonald's, they sit at a table with their burgers, fries, and artificial milkshakes, John muttering, "Time is flying by, Andy. I'm starting to get excited about seeing where I lived for almost twenty-two years, but, at the same time, I'm frightened, too. I'm terrified about remembering my parents and the grief I'll feel at their loss. You'll need to help me with that..."

"Maybe you didn't get along with them and won't be that upset they've passed away."

John gives Andy a look, and Andy mutters, "No, that was a sick comment. Sorry."

"That's okay," John mumbles, adding, "If you weren't coming with me, I wouldn't be going. Jeez, and I worry that I'm putting too much pressure on you. Um, do you think I'm putting too much pressure on you?"

Andy has wondered about that, too. His life was simple before he got tangled up in all this stuff with John Darling. Before helping John and losing his job, Andy's routine was simple. He walked to work, put in eight hours feeling he was doing something worthwhile, and then returned to his apartment.

At the apartment, he looked at the schedule to see what chore it was his turn to do. Usually, it had to do with preparing dinner. After having dinner with his roommates, Andy usually watched TV in his room or had weekly scheduled sex with his regular sex buddy at the bus terminal and occasionally with the married man in the same apartment building as Andy. It was primarily a dull life but an uncomplicated and stress-free one simultaneously.

Now, life with John Darling is anything but boring and stress-free. Sexually, it's closer to utopia than anything else he can think of. Still, it's also nerve-racking at times, and he feels a lot of pressure to do the right things for the amnesia patient, who, as already mentioned, has become someone he feels love for. It'd be idyllic if they could be boyfriends without John being almost totally dependent on Andy. Because he is, though, Andy needs to think of John as a patient first and a sex buddy second.

"It's a pleasure helping you, Johnny. There's pressure, but I'd do just about anything for you."

Finished the last of his French fries, John looks dreamily at his idol and says, "Thank you, Andy. Um, wasn't it beautiful how we made love in that little private area today?"

Andy nods, and John adds, "I already love you, as you know, but our making love there was like, um, like church. Do you go to church, Andy?"

Shaking his head, "No, I don't believe in any religion that has God's son come back to life after being crucified, which, by the way, is so barbarous it makes me want to throw up. The crucifying part, I mean. Not the coming back to life part."

John's like, "Oh, uh-huh. No, I don't go to church either, but growing up, when I was a kid, I had to go to Sunday school. It was not a fun time. Mrs. Applebee was quite the disciplinarian, though. She mostly read some jibberish from the Bible and yelled at us that we weren't paying attention. Sunday school was nothing like my mother explained it to me. Anyway, to rebel, I always kept the dollar I was supposed to put in the collection basket for the church."

Snickering, Andy says, "Are you saying you ignored Mrs. Applebee's Bible message and stole the church's collection dollar?"

"Not exactly. I couldn't understand Mrs. Applebee's message, so I wasn't against it... I didn't know what it was! According to Mom, Sunday school was supposed to be a fun introduction to our religion. I've always thought Mrs. Applebee missed that memo, so I missed the one about giving them my dollar."

They dump their trash and walk outside with Andy, saying, "Do you realize what you just told me about Sunday school was a recovered memory? If we could figure out what one of us did or said that activated that memory, we might know how to proceed."

After discussing it while walking back to the hotel, they decided it was the word 'church' that John used when describing their sexual experience in the bubbling brook spot that got John remembering his Sunday school memory.

John mumbles, "That the word 'church' made me think of Sunday school was a random long shot, Andy. There isn't any place to go from there. I was eight years old, and this is the first time I've thought about church or Sunday school since then!"

"Yeah, that's weird, alright. I agree it's not much help because you haven't had any further church experiences."

Inside their suite, Andy wants them to get to bed early tonight, but a quarter to nine is too early. Firing up his laptop. Andy logs onto YouTube to watch some videos. They clicked on random YouTube videos, and the first was by Chris Stapleton, who sang the National Anthem at last year's Super Bowl. It was an excellent video and generally acknowledged as the best rendition of The Star-Spangled Banner ever sung at the Super Bowl.

John mumbles, "That Chris Stapleton guy is one weird-looking dude with that long hair and beard, but that was a good choice for a video, Darling!"

Andy's turn to choose, and he clicks on a video titled 'Four Evans For Forever.' It's a song from the Broadway show 'Dear Evan Hansen,' sung by four actors who played the Evan part on Broadway. Andy and John watch and listen with their mouths open in amazement because they can't believe what they're seeing and hearing. It's incredible singing and great harmony, but corny as hell, and when the video is over, Andy says, "Dear Evan Hansen must be a gay Broadway show. Let's Google it."

They Google "Dear Evan Hansen" and learn there's nothing gay intended; it was sort of about someone who appeared to be slightly autistic. John mutters, "Maybe the play wasn't supposed to be gay, but that video screamed... GAY!!" The guys watched it two more times.

Andy says, "Yep, that was unique! You chose the next one, Darling."

John notices the odd preview pic of a video from the 'Britain's Got Talent' TV show. The preview picture is the pic of a frumpy middle-aged woman. As a joke, he mumbled, "I can't wait to watch this one. It's an old lady, Susan Boyle, singing the song, I Dreamed A Dream."

Both guys laughed when she was being interviewed. There was subtle mocking of the woman and eye rolls when she said she wanted to be a professional singer. Nobody was laughing by the time she finished singing the song, though!

Andy shakes his head, "That song is from another Broadway show. It's not my kind of music, but she shut every-fucking-body up with her singing talent. It almost seemed impossible that that voice was coming from that forty-seven-year-old woman's mouth."

The video was really good, but they didn't watch it again.

Then Andy hits on a video with a redheaded guy about thirty years old with a big red beard. His name is Oliver Anthony, and he sings a song he wrote called "Rich Men North Of Richmond."

Both the boys' eyes are big listening to, "... I've been selling my soul, working all day, overtime hours for bullshit pay... it's a damn shame...' Andy goes, "Holy shit, did you hear him sing the word 'bullshit,' Johnny? I never heard cuss words in a song before, have you?"

"Yeah, but milder cuss words. Not 'bullshit.' This is like a protest song or country music or something! This guy is talking about the working man getting shitty pay, which all the working men will be happy to hear. He has a powerful voice, and it's a pretty cool sound."

They listened to the guy sing about bullshit pay a couple of times, then watched and listened to a few videos by a young guy named Carson Peters, who sings bluegrass songs. He's awfully cute as he sings with a strange twang in his voice, plus he's like a genius playing the fiddle, which is a violin played differently, in case you didn't know. The boys didn't.

Both guys think Carson is talented, although they can't be too sure because they don't know how bluegrass music is supposed to sound. Whatever, they liked Carson because he's cute and young, but it's getting late, so Andy abruptly shuts his laptop, "Time for bed, Darling."

Undressed to their underpants, in the bathroom, they pissed, and John put his finger in Andy's piss flow, then his own. He licked his finger as Andy rolled his eyes. John goes, 'What? Licking feet is okay, but not licking pee?"

Andy mutters, "I didn't say anything," and they washed up, and brushed their teeth. Then, Andy looked in the mirror, "Damn, Darling, I'm trying to picture myself with short hair. Gee, I'm kind of nervous now about getting the haircut. It's hard to believe, but the last haircut I got at a barbershop, I was fifteen. Since then, I've been cutting the ends of my hair when the ponytail gets too long."

John nods, "Whatever, but I'm not involved in any of the decisions about that, Andy. It's your decision. Whatever you decide has nothing to do with me. I'm not responsible."

After a last look in the mirror, Andy mutters, "Recently, everything I do has something to do with you, Darling. And no, shit... of course, it's my decision. For the record, you encouraged me by saying I'd look cool. So, you are part of the decision."

John mutters, "Bull shit, I am not a part..."

Andy interrupted as they entered the bedroom, "Calm down, Darling! I won't hold you responsible if I hate the haircut."

They're taking off their underpants with John muttering, "Okay, then..." and Andy grins at him, then gives his bare ass a hard smack, "SLAP!" murmuring, "Get in bed, Darling. I'll dig out a condom so we can sneak in a fuck before going to sleep. Whaddaya say to that?"

Climbing onto the bed, John mutters, "Whaddaya think I'm going to say to that? What position do you want me to get in?"

Ripping open a condom packet while stroking his limp cock, Andy mumbles, "You're getting a little mouthy, Darling. Talking back to me is slightly annoying but also good because it might mean you're getting closer to acting your age. Hopefully, it might be a good indicator that we're making progress."

"I wasn't being mouthy, Andy!"

Stroking his dick into a reasonably firm boner, Andy mumbles, "What? You just got mouthy talking back to me AGAIN," and he rolls the condom onto his dick, adding, "Lie on your back, pulling back your legs and push your asshole out," and he gets on the bed on his knees.

John does what he's told, saying, "Now you've got me afraid to say anything because you'll yell at me for getting mouthy. Ah, by the way, I need a really, really hard fucking, Andy... um, please."

"Get your asshole up higher. Pull back on your legs more!" John strains to pull his legs back further, an arm around each leg, his spine rounded to the max. Andy mutters, "Don't make me do all the work. This is for your benefit! And, as always, as I'm fucking you, try remembering something... for once."

Walking on his knees, Andy gets close to John's exposed asshole and smacks his buttocks, "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" and then says, "That's what bad boys get. Bad mouthy boys get spanked." They're silent for five seconds, then both burst out laughing, spit flying as John's grip on his legs relaxes, his asshole dropping down level with the mattress.

Andy's sitting back on his angles, laughing his balls off, his condom-covered boner barely hard enough now to lift off his scrotum. Andy's laughter winds down to just chuckling, then he says, "Goddamn, Darling, how am I supposed to get my dick inside you when I can barely see your asshole?"

Tears in his eyes from laughing, John says, "Why you mouthy motherfucker..." and they're into one of their crazy, out-of-control laughing fits. Andy lies forward between John's legs, lying on John, their faces together, laughing so hard they're both almost crying. Then, together, they abruptly stop laughing and start making out. Making out in a frenzy, Andy's condom-covered dick gets very hard again as it spreads lubricant all around John's groin. It won't do any good there!

Both young men are getting highly aroused. John ends the make-out by placing an arm around his legs again, pulling back until his ass lifts off the mattress. In a weak, whiny voice, he says, "Fuck me, Andy. Please, fuck my brains out..."

Andy lines up the nipple on the condom with John's tight anus and pushes the swollen, fat head of his cock in past John's resisting small, muscular prostate gland. It was a pretty hard push, the head spreading John's anus quite a bit, dominating John's anus, him yelping, "OW!"

Now that the head is inside, his yelp of pain turns into a moan of pleasure, "Mmmm, oh, oh... nice. Mmmm," and his eyes open wide, looking into Andy's eyes, "I'm not mouthy, Andy..." but there's no laughing this time. He's serious because he can't imagine making Andy mad at him. "I'm sorry, Andy," and then he goes, "Ahh, this feels good."

The head of Andy's cock quivers with pleasure in its very tight, warm, perfect place inside his best friend's body. He heard but didn't register John's sincere, although unnecessary, apology. Shuddering, Andy mutters, "What'd you say, Darling?" then he pushes his cock three inches further up John's bowels, and they both go, "Oooh... ooh... ummm."

There's no more talking as Andy's crotch is tight against John's firm butt cheeks, Andy's leaning over John, a hand on the mattress on either side of John's chest, his head eighteen inches above John's face, both boys with their eyes closed now to better absorb all the pleasure by eliminating one of their senses.

Humping against John's buttocks, he barely moves the big fat cock inside his ass. Even so, it still creates shimmering streams of pleasure that make both guys scrunch up their faces, moaning, "Ahhh...".

Letting go of his legs, John wraps them around Andy's waist, Andy's hard boner keeping John's ass up off the mattress and in position, and then he starts thrusting. The pleasure for both goes up, up, up, like a vast red balloon, lifting them off the bed to float them around the bedroom, eyes still closed as throaty moans of sexual pleasure, quiet as thunder, fill their ears.

Thrusting, Andy's crotch slapping against John's buttocks, the slippery condom-covered boner sliding tightly but smoothly in and out, six inches in and almost six inches out of John's rectum, creating pleasure that's off the charts, a world of magic for both boys, but only for four or five minutes.

Time means nothing to them in this sexual ecstasy, but it will be disappointing when they think back on the less than five-minute fuck. For now, though, when their climax buttons got punched, and their moans got desperate... "Ahh, ahh, ahh... ooooh," that was followed by a violent thrust from Andy as he unloaded his slippery, creamy, hot cum load into the condom... his brain bursting the red balloon.

John's at Andy's mercy, right at the tipping point, but Andy's stopped fucking him while climaxing himself, his cock motionless, fully impaling John's rectum. With a gasping inhale from Andy, John holds his breath, and then Andy starts thrusting again. Only four times, though, and John's climax lets loose. His orgasm blew a streak of cum into Andy's breastbone... again.

Leaving his dick in John's rectum, Andy lies forward, John's arms going around him, both of them sexually satisfied and feeling a grateful sexual love for one another. Love is an incredible emotion, and young love the most powerful... the power of love can be frightful, causing devastating wars. Andy and John feel a powerful love in a good, best-buddy way. Could it lead to a powerful jealousy, though?

That's not something to worry about now when presently everything is sunshine, lollypops, and rainbows for Andy and John. They smile as they kiss, and then John pleads his case again, murmuring, "I don't mean to be mouthy, Andy. I couldn't stand it if you were mad at me."

Andy's like, "What? Are you serious? That was a joke, you nut. I can't be mad at you, anyway. It's impossible."

John's like, "It wasn't a joke at first, though. You were serious..." They discuss it as they get out of bed to clean up in the bathroom.

Back in bed, they drop the 'mouthy' subject and fall asleep in each other's arms, dreaming about sunshine, lollypops, and rainbows.

To be continued...

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Next: Chapter 9

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