Dylans Senior Year at College

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter 14

by Donny Mumford

Danny's finally done fucking around with my hair. As he's putting the hairdryer away, he says, "If you'd try having an open mind about it, you'd agree with me that you and that flattop haircut were made for each other." Omigod, that is so ridiculous! Shaking my head slowly and blowing out my cheeks, exasperated by this whole ordeal and tired of hearing about it from Danny, I'm like, "Never in the history of the world have so many words been spoken about a haircut. And all the words are coming out of your mouth, Daniel." Danny goes, "Blow it out your ass! Now you can add those words to the list." Heh heh, why should I be the only one exasperated, right? Looking over at me, he grins muttering, "No offense intended." I mumble, "How could anyone take offense at that?"

Oh man though, I did experience somewhat of a sexy haircut-fetish-rush although it was nothing like I used to experience when I was younger. Honestly, it'd be my pleasure to give this weakening fetish up entirely if I could. Unfortunately, our subconscious minds do not work like that... the subconscious doesn't offer options.

Unable to fit the hairdryer in the barber equipment satchel Danny mutters, "Goddammit," and gives up trying. He drops it on the floor of the little closet and then slams the closet door, saying, "You keep breaking my balls about your haircut when you should be thanking me for not going with my first inclination which was giving you a Mohawk haircut. And I could have talked you into that too."

Shaking my head again, I can't talk sense with him about this goofy topic. He's not done talking yet himself though. He points a finger at me, saying, "I like you too much to do that though, so you're lucky." I roll my eyes at that bullshit, and Danny adds, "I swear to God if I were you, that haircut would be my 'go-to' haircut until I was late into my twenties... or at least to age twenty-five." I glance over at him to see if he's serious and see him smirking and trying not to snicker. Thank goodness; if he believed that horse-doody I'd be worried about him.

I've been bitching and giving Danny a hard time because it's fun seeing how serious he gets. The thing is, he's been giving me shit right back and maybe winning the war of words so that's reason enough for me to keep my mouth shut; that and the fact I'm sick of hearing about it. Anyway, it's actually been cool having Danny be my barber, especially considering my long-running crush on him. He's so fucking sincere too... and cute. Plus, I've always enjoyed being touched by a hot young guy like him. Yep, he's a sexy boy, as I've mentioned any number of times.

Apparently, that's all the pampering I'm going to get and Danny's satisfied he had the last word on the matter, so I stand up from the desk chair trying one last time to turn the tables on him by saying, "But this isn't a hairstyle for you personally; am I right about that, Danny boy?" He shrugs, "Well, no, but it would be if I looked as cool with it as you do. Then, damn right it would be! Um, unfortunately, I don't have the right, um, shaped head." I look at him as he snorts out a laugh and then mutters, "But I'm not bullshitting you; you're the poster child for like, um, the All-American-Boy with that fucking cool haircut!" I mutter, "If we were living in the nineteen-fifties maybe."

Then I can't help laughing myself. Yeah, Danny's fun to fuck around with. That's certainly true in a sexy way as well, but I was referring to fucking with his mind and breaking balls in a good-natured manner that us guys do all the time. Enough already though!

I change the subject. "Um, are you gonna give me a ride to my place now?" He goes, "Of course, and you're following me home tomorrow, right? I'll drop the car off at my house for Mom and then we can get something at the Dairy Queen before driving back." Using Danny's comb I do up the front of my hair, muttering, "Uh huh, okay, I guess."

Then I remember, "Oh, but I might need to pick Daryl up at Logan airport some time tomorrow. I'm not sure but if I need to we can work around it." He frowns, "Who the fuck is Daryl?" I go, "A friend of mine, one who you've met about ten times last year." Danny's like, "Who'd I meet?" I go, "Daryl Ponti, um, Pony... don't you remember him?" He nods, "Oh yeah, that Pony kid. He's that cute fucker who was always hanging around you last year. Why does it need to be you who gets him at the airport and, fuck, why wasn't he here Thursday like the rest of us?" I go, "I'm his friend, that's why I'm meeting him at the airport. And he had to be at his Grandfather's funeral this weekend. Why do care anyway?" He shrugs, muttering, "I don't. Um, you ready to go?" I nod, "Yep, ready and waiting for you except, um, let me wear one of your hats?" He yells, "WHAT? A hat? Absolutely not! You'll screw up your flattop." Snickering, I'm like, "Nothing known to mankind can screw-up a flattop. Which hat can I wear?"

We leave his dormitory... without hats. In the parking lot Danny squeezes the back of my neck bumping against my side, asking, "Be honest, Dylan, have you ever had better sex than we had this afternoon? And I'm not trying to take all the credit for it either. That was both of us being awesome for each other, don't ya think?" Ah ha! He's finally getting around to fishing for compliments about how great he was at 'topping'. Almost all 'tops' do that and I don't mind, not when they deserve compliments, which Danny most certainly does.

Still, deserving compliments and getting them are two different things altogether. So, to break his balls a little more, I go, "Um, I guess some of it was pretty good. Um, but which part are you referring to exactly? If you mean..." He interrupts, sputtering, "Which part? What the fuck ya talking about? Ya don't separate sex into parts! The whole thing; everything I did, er, I mean we did during the almost constant sex we had all afternoon." I'm grinning and then I can't help chuckling before saying, "Yeah, just kidding, Danny. Anyway, I told you already it was probably better than any buddy sex I've had in weeks." He goes, "Weeks? You said it was the best ever!" I go, "So why are you asking me when I've already told you it was the best?" He mumbles, "Can't you ever be serious?" I rub his head messing up his neatly combed longer hair, saying, "It was the best ever! You deserve all the credit too. Awesome buddy sex, Danny!"

I see his big grin as he squeezes the back of my neck again and then leaves his hand there, saying, "Well it was awesome, but you were the perfect, um, 'bottom'. I meant the other person, ah... you know what I mean." He's getting a big head about his 'topping' prowess so I go back to the haircut topic, mumbling, "And you still need a haircut. Have you reconsidered the flattop idea for yourself yet?" He goes, "I know you're jerking my chain with that, but ya better knock it off. You keep saying shit like that and I'll have Golden Summers give me haircuts and you'll be out of the loop entirely; the barber loop I mean."

I go, "Ooooh, no! Out of the barber loop, say it ain't so, Joe." He frowns, "Who's Joe?" I shake my head and he says, "Listen, I told you already that my hair isn't right for a flattop." I'm like, "I thought you said you had the wrong shaped head." He goes, "Both things are way wrong for that haircut on me. And like I told you, the entire flattop thing was because of my misguided idea you needed someone being your boss. That's what's behind the flattop chronicles. I've explained all this shit to you already."

I'm like, "Chronicles, huh?" He goes, "Or whatever. And I've already admitted it was dumb of me to think I needed to be your boss... Dumb, dumb, dumb! I was wrong! See, I can say the words: I ...was ...wrong! Okay?" Shrugging, I mumble, "Yeah, you were wrong, wrong, wrong." He takes hold of my arm, saying, "But, and this is a big 'but', it turns out accidentally that you look just as cool with that haircut as you did when you were sixteen. A fortuitous development and you should be glad I bumbled into the idea in the first fucking place! So... you're welcome!"

Oh man, I've got him going again. Getting in the passenger side of his Mom's car, I'm like, "Hey, have you ever considered a career as a con artist? You know, forget the teaching/coaching career horseshit and con the hell out of stooges like me." He laughs, "Yeah, but it's not so easy finding stooges like you, babe." That was a pretty good comeback so I don't feel like continuing this line of banter. Being quiet though works even better because now Danny thinks he hurt my feeling. He glances over and I just stare back at him with a 'hurt' expression on my face.

Starting the car, he looks serious, saying, "Ah, you knew I was only kidding, right Dylan? I definitely don't think you're a stooge. I think you're, um, well you know how much I think of you because I told you numerous times." Trying not to grin, I go, "My fucking feelings are wicked hurt with that stooge bullshit." He goes, "I was fucking joking! Jesus, I swear to God it was a joke! Anyway, you said 'stooge' first. What's that word even mean? Who says 'stooge'?" I'm smirking at him and he goes, "Oh, I forgot! You're the world's biggest jokester and you're never serious. You're taking advantage of my sensitive nature and breaking my balls again." I mutter, "Just teasing you, for chrissakes... don't be so sensitive." Always wanting the last word, he mutters, "You're too sensitive, not me."

He drives onto the campus access road leading to route 114, as I add, "Good buddies like us do that kidding-around, breaking balls things all the time. You're the one who took it way too seriously." He glances over, asking, 'Which one of the kidding-around things are you doing this time?" and I laugh out loud. Danny goes, "What...?" I shake my head, "Oh nothing." Danny's fun even when he's not trying to be. He's sincere... that's what Danny Monday is. Most guys couldn't be half as sincere as Danny no matter how hard they tried. Of course, most college guys don't even try for 'sincere'. Sincere is something they might have a go at later in life.

At the apartment complex, Danny parks in the 'visitor's' lot and then decides he'll come up with me to see what Rob thinks about my haircut. We find Robby in the kitchen drinking a big glass of orange juice. He stops drinking and grins when he sees me. "Oh, I see Danny won that flattop tug of war, huh? It looks good, Dylan." Danny smirks at me as Robby lays it on thicker, saying, "Jesus, Danny, when'd you learn to be such a good barber?" Danny shrugs with newly found modestly... and that's all the discussion there is about the haircut.

Without anything better to do, we decide to play in the touch football game that someone's organizing. The rain's stopped although it's still very overcast and it looks like it'll probably start raining again later. As we're walking out of the building, Rob says, "I'm gonna stop to pick up Carl on the way. Ya know, do my mentoring duties." Robby's getting in his pickup, adding, "See you boys on the soccer field." I go, "See ya there, Robby."

As we're walking to Danny's car, I'm like, "We could have just texted Rob and saved ourselves the trouble of driving over here." Danny goes, "No way! If we did that I wouldn't have heard how fantastic Rob thinks your haircut is." I mutter, 'Yeah you would. When we saw him at the game." Last-word-Danny mutters, "He thought it was awesome! The haircut is perfect for you... that's what Rob said." I try for the last word, mumbling, "He didn't say that," and Danny tops that by exclaiming, "God, you're contentious!" I give in and keep my mouth shut.

Danny drives us right up to the edge of the soccer field. The field is like ten feet below the parking lot and there are forty or so students milling around down there already with more drifting over to see what's up. Word spreads on campus like wildfire. Most of the guys and girls milling around down there will probably just watch. It's something to do and a way to connect with old classmates or make new acquaintances. Or like us, they can't think of anything better to do. Danny points, saying, "Oh lookie there, Dylan!" Looking where he's pointing at the other side of the soccer field I see someone has set up two quarter-kegs of beer in washtubs of ice. I'm like, "Cool. I wonder what they're charging for the beer?"

We go down the steps to the field and cross over to where the beer kegs are situated. Next to the kegs is a table with plastic cups and a sign that reads: 'Free beer compliments of Sigma Chi... Join us for next Saturday's first fraternity party of the semester'. A few frat boys are passing out information flyers to everyone getting cups of free beer. People are dropping the flyers as they walk away and one drifts over here on a gust of wind to stick to my leg. I grab it and see the flyer has directions to the fraternity house, times for the party, and then mentions in very small print the admission cost.

Handing the flyer to Danny, I look around to see if Chubby's in the crowd. There's naturally a lot of yelling and laughing with some guys running out for passes and whatnot. I don't see Chub but I mutter to Danny, "Oh fuck, have you noticed at least half the group lining up to get in one of the football games are members of the opposite sex." Danny mumbles, "Damn, it's no fun playing if the girls are gonna be on the teams." I shrug, "It's not really the same at all, is it?" He goes, "Of course not, there'll be the random 'butch' girls who wish they were guys and they'll try playing like a guy when they're incapable of it, plus they'll be yelling 'fuck' every ten seconds and then mostly there'll be the giggly girls who are basically hoping guys feel them up and the game will suck." Nodding I add, "Yeah, and some girl will break a fingernail and that'll be a disaster. They'll be dropping passes or screaming when a football bounces off their face and others will be getting into giggling fits as the horny straight guys play with themselves instead of playing football. That blows!" He mutters, "Yeah, this is turning into an event, but not a sporting event... it's a mixer without music." Just some gay-boy grumblings from us...

Carl and Rob walk over to join us with Rob patting Danny's shoulder, saying, "Way to go, Danny! Carl's flattop looks as good as Dylan's." See, Robby doesn't want to be the barber anymore so he's building up Danny as the world's greatest barber. It's working for Danny as he beams at the compliment and then says, "Ya better not say too many complimentary things though, Rob. Your boyfriend gets upset when hearing any mention of flattop haircuts." I go, "Are you on drugs, Danny? I don't give a fuck..." But I stop in midsentence because he's not listening now. He's giving Carl a hug and mumbling, 'You've got really awesome taste in haircuts, and I gotta say Carl..." and then, amazingly, Danny interrupts his own sentence to wave at a couple of guys. Letting go of Carl, he mumbles, "I'll be right back guys. I've gotta say 'hi' to Bruce Willows and the boys," and he drifts over to talk with three guys at the beer keg. Danny knows at least a hundred guys in the senior class.

Looking puzzled, Carl watches Danny walk away and then he looks at me, "It was kinda cool though, don't ya think, Dylan?" I'm like, "What was?" He goes, "The way Danny did our haircuts... and for free!" I'm like, 'Yeah, yeah, yeah." Robby snickers and then says to Carl, "Dylan isn't as enthusiastic about the flattop as you are." Carl goes, "No, you like it, right, Dylan?" Before I can lie and say, 'Sure!' Danny yells over to us, "Guys, c'mon over here!"

The three of us walk over to a group of guys and within two minutes Danny and this tall dude are choosing sides for a 'touch' football game of just guys... no girls. Unheard of!

Their plan is for us to get our game going before the frat boys running this show can start giving instructions and organizing things and whatnot. A couple of frat boys with whistles are standing on upturned crates next to the kegs of beer organizing the situation and teams are being formed. Swell, let those other guys grab ass with the girls.

It's not that the guys with us are gay. Not at all! As far as I know, only four of us are. As 'straight' as the other ten guys are, they want to play some football. They're jocks who will grab ass with the girls to their heart's content after playing a guy's game of two-hand touch! Yes, believe it or not, it's actually okay for guys to play sports without the political correctness of being all-inclusive... it's very fucking rare of course and it only happens when you've got guys who have the ability to get things organized quickly. Yep, once in a while you can get away with it...

Danny and the tall skinny guy, 'Bones' is his nickname, flip a coin and Danny chooses me first. Awww, that's so nice! Choosing second means Bones get to choose two players and he picks Rob who whispers in Bones' ear, and then Bones picks Carl. Hmmm! Little Carl is not who you'd expect to be chosen over some of the big dudes waiting to be 'picked'. When it's down to the last two guys a coin is flipped to decide which guy goes to which team. No one wants the stigma of being the last guy picked out of fourteen guys. Being one of the last two eliminates that awkward situation.

The fraternity guys have put traffic-control type cones out separating the soccer field into three touch-football fields going side to side. Ya know, I gotta give them props for this clever promotion of their money-making frat party. Anyway, we take over the field conveniently closest to the parking lot. As we line up for the kick off one of the fraternity brothers comes running toward us blowing his whistle and waving his arms. We all exchange mugging expressions while Danny and Bones have a shouting match with the frat guy who finally shrugs and I guess admits defeat. He goes off with his tail between his legs to control the other more malleable guys and girls who are busy gulping down his fraternity's free beer and waiting to be, um, organized I guess.

Danny is our quarterback and that guy, Bones, is the other team's quarterback although both Robby and Carl have quarterbacks experience. Robby's normally the quarterback for pick-up games like this one and Carl was the quarterback for his prep school team. We're kicking off and our kicker happens to be an actual soccer player on Merrimack's soccer team, a thin funny looking kid nicknamed, "Marbles. He kicks-off and everyone on the other team starts backpedalling because Marbles kicks the shit out of the football. Way back!

We all run our asses off toward the other team and the game is on. Our version of 'two-hand touch' has no 'first-downs' and no kicking for fourth down. The only kicking that happens is after a touchdown. We get four downs to score or the other team takes over on offense going the other way starting wherever we got stopped. No field goals obviously... there are no goalposts on a soccer field.

It goes like this: the quarterback has two guys blocking for him with two opponents rushing the quarterback. The two 'guards' blocking try to keep the rushers from getting two hands on the quarterback before he passes the football or hands it off or runs with it himself. The other four guys on offense can be extra blockers or go out for passes, or they can fake going out for a pass and double back to run behind the quarterback for a handoff turning the play into a running play... and so forth. There's no tackling in two-hand-touch football. That's the premise although a couple of guys wind-up on their ass every play. The first team to score three touchdowns wins.

Everyone starts out with energy to spare so it's a very spirited first ten minutes of good sportsmanship before the expected pissed-off competitive juices start flowing and 'attitudes' begin developing which means more guys are ending up on their ass with the arguments starting up like they always do in any pickup game no matter what the sport is. In this case, the arguments are about 'holding' and 'pass interference' and 'he was out of bounds'. Shouts of 'Goddamit!' You're a bunch of lying motherfuckers 'cause Nelson had one foot completely out of bounds when he caught the 'effin ball!" It goes like that...

After about a half hour of huffing and puffing Danny's team, the one I'm on scores the third touchdown with a disputed long touchdown pass to our kicker/soccer player, Marbles. Disputed touchdown because he's accused of blatantly tripping his defender. Soccer players are tricky with their feet, ya know. Anyway, we won. Bones' team demands a rematch and we agree to it, but only after a time-out for beer. The temperature is in the low sixties but we're all sweating and hot from all the running, yelling, cursing, and cheating.

Most of the guys jog toward the beer kegs but I slow up because I want to intercept Chubby who is walking away from the kegs with two cups of beer. There's my bro and I wanna say 'hi' to him so I yell, "Yo Chub!" and he recognizes my voice and changes directions from wherever it was he was going. Without much concern that the beer is spilling out of both cups, Chubby's smiling and yelling, "I saw you playing, Dylan, but I didn't want to distract you. Nice catch, by the way!" Ha, I only had two catches the whole game and he saw one of them... that's cool!

Chubby hands me the beer he's holding in his left-hand, asking, "How ya doing, bro? Oh man, I love your haircut!!" Fuck, he makes me feel like the only person on earth he wants to see right now." We do a sort of hand-grasp with our free hands as I exclaim, "Thanks, this haircut needs work though. Anyway, I'm doing awesome! How you doing?" He goes, "Great, Dylan. I'm slightly hungover, of course, but these beers are like medicine for hangovers, ya know?" I nod energetically as we touch cups and then chug some beer and then I'm like, "Did you get your courses changed? The two you didn't like." He nods, "Yeah, I had this babe help me out with that this morning. Well, she did it mostly on her own. I was just giving her words of encouragement, ya know? She had some bogus concern about getting fired if she got caught changing shit on the rosters and I'm like, "Dolly, that's her name if you can believe that shit. I was like, Dolly nobody's fucking here in the office on a Saturday morning! Jesus, will you chill out! You know how broads are..."

I'm nodding my head again, chuckling and then asking, "What was wrong with the two professors you switched from?" And now I see John Beverly walking this way. Yeah, wherever Chubby is, John ain't far away. The dipshit! Chub goes, "Well, Jesus, this one female-type professor in my 'Human Resource Management' course is giving examples of how to evaluate past experiences without concerning yourself about how unusual they might have been or some such shit. You know, have confidence in yourself even if you fucked up in the past I guess is what she meant."

We drink some beer and then I ask, "Well, what's wrong with that?" Chub goes, "Oh, she was way too smug which rubbed me the wrong way, plus get this. She's very impressed with herself and mostly talking about herself. Early on she wanted to be in movies or TV and right out of college she got a role in a scary flix as an extra. This is in Hollywood. That's what she claimed. Anyway, a scary flix and you know how those dice and slice movies go. Four supposedly college kids, two guys, and two girls who actually look to be in their early thirties think it's a good idea to spend a night during a thunder and lightning storm in an old mansion where a family was murdered years ago. Ms. Featherton, she's the professor, said she got a bit part because she had a good scream of terror. They wanted that scream when the madman from the insane asylum with the ax appears out of nowhere. Well, after she told us about that scream that she was so proud of, the rest of the class I thought she was about to scream any second for no reason. It was disconcerting and plus..."

But interrupting Chub is a girl who comes up behind him to sort of jump up supporting herself with two hands on Chub's shoulders, yelling, "Jeffrey, where's my beer? You said you'd get me one." Chubby and I both look at the beer I'm drinking and he goes, "Elaine, darling, yes I said I'd get you a beer... but did you think I meant right now. Christ, don't take every 'effin thing I say so literally!" She giggles, and asks, "Whaddaya mean?" Chubby goes, "Never mind. Hey, meet my awesome brother from another mother, Dylan. Dylan, meet Elaine Nusience," and she hits his arm, saying to me, "He always gets my name wrong; it's Newsome." I got Chub's tongue in cheek, on-purpose slip-up with her name. He and I snicker as I say, "Nice to meet you," and she says, "Hi, yourself, Danny! Brothers going to the same college, wow!" As if that's unheard of, plus she got my name wrong. She asks me, "What year are you in, hon?" like she's talking to a third grader. Chub goes, "Dolly, you missed the question and answer period, sweetie. That part of the discussion is over. No more dumb questions, okay?" She hits Chub's arm again, and I ask him, "Um, what about the other professor you couldn't stand, Chub?"

Before he can answer, John Beverly has arrived, saying, 'Hi, Dylan!" pretending to be cheerful and happy to see me. I mutter, "John," and we bump fists. Chub goes, "Yo John, how about getting Elaine a beer." John Beverly mumbles, "Yeah, okay. I need one myself." John and Elaine go off to do that as Chub says, "The other professor was a problem for me too, bro. Actually, I don't think he was a professor... just a teacher." I'm like, "Uh huh," as I grin because I know it's gonna be funny.

We both chug some beer and then Chub lights a cigarette and takes a drag before saying, "Omigod, bro, there was a couple of things wrong with the teacher-dude." Passing me his smoke, he goes, "For one thing, his hair didn't go with his face and that right there was terribly disorienting. He had this thick dark hairpiece on his head, a full rug that was way too big for his head. He's this little wiry guy with like a sixty-year-old face trying to look younger by wearing a way-too-big wig of some poor Korean woman's hair. I don't know but that put me off to start with. Plus he has this voice like he could just barely get the words out. It made you lean forward to help him. Not a stutterer exactly, but the same idea. And then when he did get the words out it sounded like a saw dragging over broken glass or something. He may have had some kind of serious problem that was fucking up his throat, ya know?"

I don't want to laugh at the man's health issues but Chubby says stuff so seriously with little facial expressions that make me laugh out loud. We drink some more beer and Chub mutters, "Yeah, the poor guy, but for my own mental health reasons, ya know, I thought it'd be best if I cut ties with that fellow and switch as fast as possible out of that course. I couldn't stop staring at the rug on his head thinking it's gonna slide off any second. If he had a wig that fit, ya know, maybe I could deal with the man but then there's that voice of his that simply couldn't be overlooked. Anyway, everything worked out fine. I'm in this new class where there are only two guys; me and a black dude who looks gangsta, ya know. It'll be cool getting to know him and then we can check out the young ladies as a two-man team and see what's up with them."

I'm nodding again, chuckling and loving spending this time with Chubby. He's in the middle of a story about either an overweight guy or a girl with pigtails, one of whom farted audibly in class creating a major distraction. I don't get to find out which one was the farting culprit though because I get called to start the rematch game. Chub and I pat each other on the shoulder grinning at each other. He knows he's entertained the hell out of me. I'm like, "Jeez, I'm glad you got out of those two classes anyway. Text me who the farter was, okay?" He says, "No sweat, brother." I go, "Dinner tonight, don't forget!"

As I'm jogging away he yells, "Six o'clock at your place, right?" I stop to say, "Absolutely, Chub, see you there." He hesitates and then goes, "John Beverly sort of wonders if..." I go, "Of course he's invited too," Chub goes, "You're awesome!" I just look at him for another second thinking of years gone by when it was Chubby and me against the world and the world better watch the fuck out, and then I mumble, "See ya, Chub," and continue jogging over to join my team.

We play until five o'clock and the last fifteen minutes are played in a light rain that appears to be getting ready to become a serious storm. The fraternity guys took their stuff and left twenty minutes ago. They took off as soon as the two quarter-kegs were empty. Let's see: there are about 88 twelve-ounce beers per keg. Huh, 176 beers. That sounds like a lot but isn't all that much considering the size of the crowd. The guys in our game, for instance, had only three cups each, one in between each game, so no one's even slightly drunk.

After the shouting and accusations of foul play and cheating during the games, everyone on both teams does quick hugs or bumps fists, or whatever; no hard feelings. I ride back to the apartment with Robby while Danny gives Carl a lift to his dormitory. Cars weren't necessary for guys in dormitories as the soccer field is within a reasonable walking distance, but if you have a car why not use it.

Rob and I don't go directly back to the apartment though. We drive down route 125 to Butcher Boy, which is a supermarket of sorts. It's much smaller than Stop & Shop but there are always butchers there who will butcher whatever cut of meat you ask for. I want a roast beef called a Coulotte Roast which is basically top sirloin and very tasty if cooked medium rare and sliced thinly across the grain. Stop & Shop will rarely butcher upon demand which is why we drove the extra six miles to a place that will. I'll preheat the oven to 425 degrees and put the roast in uncovered for fifteen minutes and then lower the temperature to 325 and cook about fifteen minutes per pound. All ovens are different though so I use a meat thermometer too.

We buy six Russet potatoes which I'll bake along with the roast and we'll have butter, sour cream, and chives on the table for those who want to doctor-up their baked potato. I pick out fresh items for a big salad and as we're getting checked out Rob pulls a long loaf of French bread from a basket and adds it to our order. The roast and baked potatoes require almost no work by the chef so it's a stress-free way to have guys over for dinner. Jolly Green Giant's gold and white baby frozen corn is a favorite of most guys when I add lots of butter and some salt; that'll be an acceptable vegetable. That plus the salad and French bread and we've got ourselves a damn good meal!

As I shower Rob drives over to McLoon's package store where wines and hard liquors are sold. He's recently got a bug up his ass that we should start serving wine with dinner like his parents do most nights. Seriously? Neither of us especially like wine... it seems unnecessary but then maybe it's an acquired taste we should become used to for some reason.

As I'm drying myself in the bedroom Rob comes in and pats my ass, saying, "I got two bottles of Merlot. That's a red wine that the guy at McLoon's said goes awesomely with red meat." I nod and he starts to get undressed, asking, 'What'd you plan to have for Carl's dinner?" Oh shit! Recovering quickly, I go, "In the freezer, I've got a frozen noodle thingie in a white sauce with broccoli, plus he can have a baked potato, salad, and French bread." He goes, "Sweet," and I'm like, "Will that be okay for your boy, Mr. Mentor?" Rob pats my back, mumbling, "I should have known you'd have something planned." Ha, pure luck! I never gave a thought about Carl being a vegetarian until Rob asked that question a minute ago.

While he showers I make a big salad and then cover it with plastic wrap and stick it in the refrigerator. It's six o'clock on the dot when the doorbell rings. I open the door and Chubby comes in all smiles followed by John Beverly who's carrying a case of Rollin Rock cans. Chub, with a bottle of Old Grand Dad bourbon in one hand, hugs and kisses me, saying, "We thought we'd bring some liquid to the dinner, bro." After John puts the case of beer on the kitchen bar he turns to give me an unexpected quick hug, mumbling, "Thanks for inviting me." I go, "No problem, John." Yes, 'no problem' officially supplanted 'you're welcome' in today's vernacular. Well, maybe not 'officially' but as long as I've been alive I've rarely heard anyone say, 'you're welcome'. I don't know why.

John's being helpful putting the beer in the refrigerator as Chub pulls a package of what looks like twenty little plastic shot glasses out of his pocket, saying, "In case you don't have any, bro," and he hands the package to me. It's only in the last year or so I've noticed these plastic shot glasses in stores. Maybe drinking 'shots' has become popular in other places besides colleges.

Yes, disposable shot glasses are convenient although I hate shots. Nonetheless, Chub says, "Let's try out a couple of those plastic shot glasses, Dylan. Whaddaya say?" If it were anyone else I'd pass, but not with Chubby so I open the plastic container as Chub unscrews the cap on the bottle of Old Grand Dad, asking, "Care for a taste, John?" and holds up the bottle. John Beverly goes, "I believe I will." Chub pours three shots in the plastic shot glasses I set up on the kitchen table.

We pick up our shots and Chub says, "To my brother, the world's greatest chef," and I go, "No, I'm not, I only..." but I never finish my modesty protest because they throw the liquor down their throats and I do the same. Goddamn, that burns! John says, "Smooth, huh?" Robby comes out of the bedroom looking shiny clean and very pretty, haha. Well, he does actually look pretty, but you don't normally associate guys and 'pretty' so I'll say he looks handsomely-cute instead. He says a smiling hello to Chub and John and then does some hand slaps and fist bumps with them. Chub asks, "Care to taste this excellent vintage, Rob?" Surprising me, Rob goes, "Sure, Jeff," and Chub pours three shots with Robby using my plastic shot glass, as I beg off, saying, "I'll pass... I need to take a wicked piss." What I actually need to do is... not have another shot.

While they drink their shots I go into the bathroom and, what the hell, since I'm in here I take a piss. Washing my hands I look at myself in the mirror grinning because after my shower, without thinking about it one way or another, I did my hair like Danny instructed. Well, why not? For tonight anyway. It looks okay and I do not need to hear Danny bitching at me about it. After today's buddy sex I'm kinda changing my mind about this haircut anyway. The kind of buddy sex Danny's been putting out lately can get me to rethink certain unimportant things... like, for instance, haircuts. Haha! He's awesome.

Hmmm, gawking at my face close to the mirror, I'm thinking: 'Gee, maybe I better plan on shaving tomorrow... or should I?' I'm developing a fairly decent scraggily, although minimal, three-day trendy beard thingie. Okay, using the word 'beard' is a stretch but it's getting there slowly.

When I come back to the living room I see that Danny and Carl have arrived and one of them contributed another case of beer to the dinner party. It had to be Danny since Carl's only eighteen or nineteen. They're all exchanging various greetings and as Rob introduces Carl to Chubby and John Beverly, Danny comes right over to me and gives me a hug and a kiss, murmuring, "How ya doing, babe?" I sort of gulp out, "Hi, Danny."

He grins at me with his eyes going to my hair although he doesn't say anything about it. He nods his head sort of approvingly and puts his arm around my shoulder for a squeeze. Chubby's making Carl feel like one of the guys by telling him he saw a couple of fantastic passes Carl made during the game. I didn't notice Chubby watching our game but he's right about Carl's quarterbacking. For the third game Carl took over as quarterback for the other team and he has a surprisingly strong arm for his size. As Danny blatantly stands next to me with his arm on my shoulders Chubby's getting Carl to talk modestly about his days as a prep school quarterback while John Beverly passes all of us a beer. Carl too polite to refuse it but he doesn't drink any of it.

Then I see a cake on the bar next to the case of beer and point at it. Danny goes, "Oh, that's from Carl, babe. He asked me to take him to that bakery so I took him to the one at the CVS mall in downtown North Andover. He wanted to bring something to the dinner party when he saw I had the case of beer." Carl goes, "Um, Danny, actually I wanted to bring something whether you had the case of beer or not."

Danny takes his arm off me to goes over to the cake, asking, "How much do you guys think this fucking cake cost?" Before anyone can guess, he goes, "An unbelievable $34, that's how much. We should all be in for a bitching dessert tonight!" Rob goes, "You're kidding, $34 for a cake!" and then Rob hugs Carl's shoulders, saying, "Dude! That's so cool of you!" Carl blushes, muttering, "I didn't know it would cost that much but the lady had it boxed up and I couldn't say I didn't want it after she'd already rung it up on the register." Then he whines, to himself mostly, "They should put prices on stuff..."

Then there's some discussion about Carl exchanging his beer for a Coke. Chub claims Carl is one of only three nondrinkers on campus. He said that as if it were a fact and called Carl a campus celebrity. Only three nondrinkers out of 5000+ students is a slight exaggeration I'm sure. Then Chubby tells Carl that he started out the same way, as a nondrinker. He was a nondrinker but of course, as he put it, "I had just learned to walk at the time, both Dylan and me, and we didn't have our driver's license yet either so we weren't able to get out all that much." Hahaha!

Chub has other bullshit stories that Carl's a great audience for... the rest of us too actually. A little later I've got the potatoes and roast in the oven so we all go out on the balcony so those of us who smoked can indulge our habit. The rain stopped a little while ago and the sky is clearing with the sun peeking out encouragingly.

Somehow the fact that Carl's a vegetarian comes up in the conversation and Chub's like, "Jesus Christ, you're turning into a real pain in the ass, Carl. I suppose next you're going to tell me you don't smoke either." Carl's laughing because he knows how ball-busting works; if you're the victim of it that pretty much means you're accepted in the group. To be sure that Carl knows that, Chub's giving him a hug too and saying he admires Carl's fortitude, and then he adds, "I can't even imagine being that, um, individualistic... or something like that, Carl." Carl goes, "Nice backhanded compliment that could be taken any numbers of ways, Jeff." Chub punches Carl's arm lightly, mumbling, "My pleasure, young dude." Well yeah, seriously though by not drinking Carl's bucking peer pressure big-time! Most guys our age want to be like our peers. Not real ballsy of us maybe, but that's the reality of it.

There are more shots of bourbon going down along with beers and the music gets turned on and we all have embellished stories to tell of funny or embarrassing situations that some of us found ourselves in recently. Those stories seem funnier in a group and we all laugh harder than most of the stories warrant. Then there are some of the better repeat stories from other group gatherings that are worth telling again and some jokes along with the ball busting and all in all it's a really good time. The dinner is great too and Rob's two bottles of Merlot disappear down our throats during dinner as well. We drink it out of juice glasses since we haven't invested in wine glasses yet. Yeah, after shots and beers the wine tastes mild. Carl doesn't ask for a glass of milk tonight and instead had about an ounce of wine that I'd say he did not enjoy. Me neither.

Carl's cake is vanilla with chocolate buttercream frosting and while it's very good it isn't worth $34.00 although we all tell Carl it's worth more. He mutters, "I'm never going to that bakery again," and Chubby goes, "I just realized another thing that young Carl never does. He doesn't use bad words; naughty curse words," and Carl says, "Fuck you, Jeffrey," which gets a laugh. The word 'fuck' sounded weird coming out of Carl's mouth and he blushed as we all laughed.

We decide to play cards for money but Carl doesn't know how to play poker so we play gin rummy because he does know how to play that card game. Who doesn't know how to play poker though? Carl's a strange kid, but nice and he is one of the cute guys on campus, so there's that...

Rob says, "Carl and I will be partners." and Danny goes, "I got Dylan as a partner," and Chubby goes, "Balls! I'm stuck with John Beverly again!" We play until midnight while drinking beers and finishing off the Old Grand Dad. The empty bourbon bottle is somehow the indicator that it's time to wrap up the night. There were four major shot-drinkers tonight. Those four killed that bourbon bottle and two of them were not Carl or me. I don't know what got into Robby or Danny, both of them drinking shots almost one to one with Chub and John Beverly. Obviously, they're all very drunk by now and after a couple of random yawns, we all agree it's time to call it a night. How Carl hung in there with his smiling face putting up with us drunken, cursing, cigarette smoking carnivores I can't imagine, but he did. Well, we didn't smoke inside but did take a few cigarette breaks on the balcony.

Danny intelligently agrees to let Carl drive after I wrestle the keys from him. It's only a five-minute ride to the campus but why take a chance on drunk driving if there's a better option? As he and Carl are going out the door Danny nods his head at me, mumbling, "I'll be ready tomorrow morning at ten sharp, babe." I shrug and say, "You better be," and he slurs, "Don't sweat it, okay?" Tomorrow we're going to return his Mom's car. I'll follow Danny in the pickup and drive him back here. I have serious doubts about his claim he'll be ready to go at ten o'clock 'sharp' though. Anyway, off they go with Carl saying 'Thank you' to Rob and me for the tenth time tonight.

John Beverly is giving Rob and me hugs. I'm a little worried about Rob who looks funny and not himself at all. That boy is really lit-up and hammered! I can tell he's passed being just plain drunk while maybe no one else can. Damn, Rob insisted on doing those shots so he'll be paying the price tomorrow morning. Chubby gives me a hug and a kiss on the lips without him or I feeling even slightest weird about doing that in front of friends. We've been kissing each other since we were three years old. In many foreign countries kissing your brother, or sons kissing their fathers even as they get older, is routine. Not here in Puritanical America though. I guess we're still afraid we'll get burned at the stake as a witch or something. No kissing between males in our uptight politically correct society... no, no! We've got so many politically correct rules to remember, along with trying not to offend ANYBODY... it's exhausting!

I'm hoping Chub drives safely back to the dorm in our new car but I've no doubt he will since he's never had a car accident or a traffic ticket in his life. When they're all gone and Rob turns off the CD player it's so quiet in here it's eerie. It's like the silence is louder than the music was.

We did not clean up the kitchen after dinner which is so unlike us. One glance at Rob and I know he's not up for doing a cleanup now either. And then I'm positive of it because, without saying a word to me, he goes quickly to the bathroom and throws up in the toilet. It serves him right for trying to keep up with Chubby doing shots. I still have sympathy for him though and help him clean up. After I insist he takes a few Advil he groans and moans and bitches about that and grumps even more about me insisting he wash up and brush his teeth, but he does it anyway and then I get him to bed.

Instead of giving me any shit, he surprises me by saying, "Thank you, Dylan, I don't know why I was so stupid, but..." and that's the last I hear from him tonight. He didn't even finish his sentence, or maybe he thought he had finished it. Snuggling under the covers he rolls over pulling the covers halfway up his head and he's a goner. I'm not the type to rub it in because I don't know what gets into any of us sometimes.

As much as I don't wanna do this, I take a deep breath, curse, and then decide... fuck it! I don't wanna do this cleanup now, but more than that... I do not want to wake up and look at this mess in the kitchen tomorrow morning. And what help would a super-hung-over Rob be tomorrow morning anyhow? Four of us ate at the little kitchen table with Rob insisting he'll eat at the kitchen bar with Carl so it's a mess from one end of the kitchen to the other.

I'm just drunk enough, but not too drunk, to do this. I had the one initial shot of bourbon and then two later on that I couldn't gracefully get out of. That was it for me; a total of three shots all night. Then with dinner, I drank about three ounces of wine and at the most, I had five beers the entire night. Oh yeah, I'm drunk as far as the law's concerned, but I'm not DRUNK!

So like I said, fuck it, I'll do the cleanup. I take it slow and clean one area of the kitchen at a time and in less than half an hour the overloaded dishwasher is chugging along making that subtle dishwasher sound doing as much or more of the cleaning than I did. The kitchen looks okay so I go to the bathroom and do everything I need to in there.

I strip to my jockey shorts and before getting in bed I check Robby and see and hear his even breathing which tells me he's deeply asleep. With a sigh, I get in bed trying not to disturb him and then think about tonight feeling mostly good about everything. That's all I had a chance to think about though because the next thing I know I'm opening my eyes and it's Sunday morning. Glancing over I see Rob is still out of it. Huh, I don't believe he moved an inch all night. A quick look at my wristwatch and, yes, I always wear it to bed... it's ten o'clock. I'm late for meeting Danny but he's probably not awake yet anyway.

With a sigh, I get out of bed and take a shower. I feel okay, which is my reward for not seriously overdoing it with the booze last night. Stepping into a pair of cargo shorts, I go out on the balcony to see what the weather's like. It's nice out here! It feels warm and the skies have cleared so I leave the cargo shorts on and pull a long sleeve t-shirt on over my head and then step into sandals. I'm only driving to Framingham and back so I might as well be comfortable. I know from her text that Mom is at her fiance's condo and there's no one else I especially want to see at home.

After metaphorically patting myself on the back for doing the clean up last night, I leave a note reminding Rob why I need the pickup this morning and then get his keys and I'm out the door, but only for a second. Going back in I'm telling myself to pay attention to what I'm doing as I put my cellphone in my pocket. Can I believe I left without that? Plus my wallet, money, and cigarettes; they all go in my pockets. Jesus!

Walking out the front door putting on my sunglasses I'm now ready to do this. In the pickup waiting to cross Route 114 at the traffic light, I get a cellphone call from a distraught Pony. He's babbling about something and my first thought is he's just returned from his Grandfather's funeral and he's upset. Then I hear the word 'plane' and 'cancelled flight'. I go, "Please, Daryl, calm the fuck down! I can't understand what you're saying!" There's a second of silence and then he goes, "Dylan, how many fucking times do I need to tell you," and he yells, "Call me Pony!" Jeez, that doesn't seem like something he'd be concerned with if he was upset about the funeral. I go, "Okay, Pony, tell me again why you called."

I hear him take a deep breath and then say, "My parents are out so I'm a little..." and I mumble, "Oh, are they still at the funeral or...?" He says, "Funeral? That was yesterday and it was awful. I cried like a six-year-old. Don't remind me of that!" A car's horn honks behind me so I look up and see the light's green now. Oops, panicking I do a jackrabbit start with a little squeal from the back tires as I drive across Route 114 to the campus road and turn left. I'm like, "Pony, I just got fuckin' beeped at because I'm not paying attention. Tell me why you called."

He's silent again for a second and then goes, "Please don't yell at me, Dylan. It's too upsetting to have you yelling at me along with everyone else." Taking a breath to try for calm, I go, "Sorry, buddy," and he says, "I just got a call from the airline. It was a computer call that I almost blew off because I thought it was a solicitation thing. Then I heard something about my flight's been cancelled due to mechanical problems and the computer voice was giving some complicated suggestions for alternate flights but they all involved two or three layovers and... well, I don't know what the fuck to do." I'm like, "Oh, when is the next direct flight to Logan? Did they say?" I hear a long exhale of exasperation before he goes, "I don't know I slammed the phone down before the message was over." I'm like, "Oh, how old did you say you are?" He mutters, "I got pissed and hung up to spite myself. But then I got a brainstorm and told myself... 'dude, call the one person who can't wait to see you... let him figure it the fuck out'." Trying not to laugh, I say, "Good idea. Why don't you call that person now? Why waste a phone call on me?"

He yells, "Help me, please!" As I'm parking near Danny's dormitory, I go, "Here's what you need to do: look online for the first flight to Logan." He says, "I already did but the flight doesn't get in until tonight and my roommate says he doesn't like to drive in the dark." I go, "Oh, another one of your famous asshole roommates, huh?" He says, "I just made that up. I didn't ask him to meet me; I'm asking you." I laugh again and then say, "So this whole convoluted conversation is about me meeting you at Logan tonight, is that about it?" He says, "Sort of but I lied a tiny bit by not mentioning the time tonight. Ya know, I wanted to get you used to the idea of meeting me at night. Kinda get you in the frame of mind that you'll meet me and then when I tell you it's a little later than you might be thinking you'll have already committed in your mind that you'll do it... meet me, I mean."

I say, "Ya know, I was happy that I didn't have much of a headache from partying last night, not when I woke up, but I'm getting a headache now. What is the actual time your flight gets in?" He says, "Ten-forty, and I'll be bringing lots of luggage with me too. Yeah, my parents can't drive me to college with all my stuff like they did the last two years beings on account of the funeral and them being upset and whatnot." I go, "Beings on account of? No one over the age of six talks like that." He goes, "Will you be there or do I need to get a scary cab driver who looks like a terrorist and will intimidate the shit out of me, especially that late at night?" I go, "I'll meet you. Are you sure you've got the time right? It's ten-forty tonight, not tomorrow morning." He goes, "Thanks, Dylan! Yeah, it's ten-forty tonight. Heh heh, I knew you'd do it! You're easily manipulated but then you think the world of me, so no problem, right?" I mutter, "I wouldn't go that far."

Getting out of the pickup I look around and mutter, "Nice weather we're having here today," and he goes, "Well, thank you again, Dylan. It's wonderful I have someone in my life I can depend on. You still like me, right?" I go, "Of course I do," and then get him to give me the number of his flight and I tell him again I'm sorry for his loss, meaning his Grandfather. His voice sort of cracks so I get off the phone. Someone dies, his Grandfather, who he loved... I'm obviously not gonna joke about that, and at the same time I didn't know his Grandfather so what can I say, ya know? Best to say I'll see you at Logan, which is what I said. Funny though, I got a weird feeling that something is wrong other than Pony's grandfather died. I don't know, Daryl did the same bantering as always but it didn't seem like it flowed from him the way it normally does. He's usually very quick with funny smart-ass remarks... cute stuff. He had some, but it didn't sound the same somehow. I'm probably imagining things again and, anyway, the kid just buried his beloved grandfather for chrissakes. No wonder he didn't seem the same.

But yeah, it really does suck being at the airport at any time, but it's worse at night. Well, whatever... I light a cigarette from habit and then immediately put it out saying out loud, 'What the fuck's wrong with you, dummy?" A cigarette is not what I need or want. You see, it's the habit part that's hard to get over; that and the buzz from the nicotine I suppose. I put the cigarette out by squeezing the lit part off the end. With the cost of cigarettes, I put this one back in the box and get a piece of Juicy Fruit gum from the pack Rob has in the pickup and then lock the truck and start walking. I need to go past two dormitories to get to Danny's.

In his dormitory, I go past the activities room glancing in with the faint hope maybe Danny's up and ready to go, but he's not one of the loudmouths shooting pool or the comatose-looking guys watching Sunday morning cartoons on the TV. Danny's door is the second one down and when I knock on the door nothing happens. I knew he wouldn't be awake!

Damn, I'm doing him this favor but he can't be bothered to be awake even when I'm almost an hour late myself! After trying the doorknob and finding it's locked I knock louder BANG BANG BANG! and a big guy who looks about thirty-three years old with lots of whiskers and thick eyebrows comes out a door a couple down from Danny's, and asks, "What the fuck's wrong with you? People are sleeping. It's a Sunday morning, asshole." I mumble, "Aren't you way too old to be going to college?" He goes, "Huh?" and Danny opens the door and mutters, "C'mon in, babe."

Inside I state the obvious, "You're not ready to go." He moans and holds his head between both hands as he steps backward and sits and then lies on his bed again. I know his roommate goes home to Worcester most weekends so I sit on his bed across from Danny, asking, "Can I get you something?" He moans, "No thanks but will you get in bed with me and comfort me for just a half hour? Please! I'll be okay to drive after that." I'm like, 'Comfort you? Whaddaya talking about?" He goes, "I swear to God, I just want someone to hug me 'cause I feel so bad, Dylan." I'm like, "Naughty bad, or sick bad?" and he chuckles and says, "Don't make me laugh. My stomach hurts. I think it was that fucking cake Carl brought to the party." I go, "You ate all the buttercream decoration off that cake which is all butter and confectioner sugar; like eating three whole chocolate bars and then you had two slices of cake on top of that!"

He closes his eyes, murmuring, 'Don't remind me. C'mon, get in bed with me." Oh fuck, he doesn't look like he's gonna throw up or anything so I drop my cargo shorts and step out of my sandals. Lifting the edge of the covers I slide in next to him. It's very warm under the covers plus a big whiff of Danny's sexy scent came wafting out from under the covers when I pull them over us. He snuggles against me and I put my arms around him, muttering, 'Ya big baby." He doesn't smell sick. He smells good as he asks, "Do you have any more Juicy Fruit gum?" I snicker because he seems so pathetically weak and I guess he smelled my breath. I go, "Rob's pack of gum is in the pickup. You know what though, you can have a whole stick for yourself when we're ready to go 'cause you're a big boy now." He mutters, 'Go fuck yourself, Dylan, I'm too sick for jokes..."

He doesn't have any clothes on unless maybe boxer or jockey shorts and, damn but he feels good. Danny has the real-deal guy's body, a real guy's body with hard muscles but smooth youthful skin that's almost hairless. Pale creamy-colored pinkish skin that's tight and taut and sexy. Um, I may have been redundant there.

Danny's brown longish hair is disheveled but it smells good too. Ya see that's one good thing about the fanatical no-smoking-inside-anywhere-in-America ban because now we smoke outside and the breeze takes the smoke away so it doesn't get in our clothes and hair like it did to the lucky bastards that used to be able to smoke any place they felt like fifty years ago. Almost like living free back then, ya know?

I start to say another wise-ass comment but, like with Robby last night, I can tell from his steady breathing Danny has already gone back to sleep. Huh, I really like Danny. When I hugged him he sighed and rustled around a little, his back to me with him partially on his side. I give him another hug even though he won't know it but, damn, my left arm is stuck under the side of his neck now and it's probably gonna go numb is I don't get it out. Sliding it slowly out so I don't wake him I snicker thinking: if I were a pervert I could have myself a good time fondling this boy. I'm not a pervert though so after putting my hand on his ass, but only to check that he's wearing underpants, and he is, I leave him untouched... although if I were a pervert, haha! I'm still up against him though, comforting him ya know. Jesus, if I don't spring a boner it'll be a miracle.

Closing my eyes I think about our hot buddy sex yesterday and that makes me remember Danny doing my haircut. I re-combed the flattop on my head this morning because now I'm thinking I probably won't go with my old-timey 'fave' hairstyle of combing the hair down on top and flip up the front. I was going to, but why upset my best buddy-sex buddy? And then I don't think about anything else because I fall asleep too.

Lying on my back, my eyes open and I'm looking up at the ceiling. I know immediately I'm in bed with Danny and I can tell somehow I've been sleeping for a while. I didn't just doze off for a minute or two. Huh, I'm surprised I didn't have a second of confusion when waking, like... 'Where the fuck am I?'

Danny's on his stomach now, up against my side. Yeah well, on this bed he'd either be up against my side or on the floor, or I'd be on the floor. Looking at my watch I see it's now twelve o'clock. Holy shit! Did I sleep for over an hour? Wow! Obviously, I needed the extra sleep. Damn though, I'm feeling pretty frickin' good right now. There's no urgency to dropping the car off at Danny's house, not since I found out Pony won't be here until late tonight.

Hmmm, I'd really like to do a big stretch but if I do I'll probably wake Danny. Then he lifts his head and smiles at me. Since he's awake anyway I smirk at him and then stretch out my legs, my left one over his legs and my left arm over his head... oh man, it feels good to stretch!

Danny watches me and then mutters, "Doesn't that feel good, the stretching? My dog, may she rest in peace, stretched every single time she got up. Same stretching every fucking time, like clockwork." I'm like, "When did you have a dog?" He goes, "Missy was her name. A cocker spaniel, um, she was my dog from when I was about four years old until like three years ago. I was a freshman here at Merrimack when she died. My Mom called me and, oh, man, she was like distraught! Crying and all." I'm frowning and nodding my head commiserating with Danny because I'm thinking of that kid at school many years ago who was crying because his dog died." I'm like, "Where were you when your Mom called you with the sad news?" He snuggles closer to me and says, "I was at the activities center. I stopped doing everything and was trying to comfort my Mom on the phone, saying, 'She was a good dog, Mom' and a girl next to me touched my arm asking me if I was alright. I didn't even realize I was blubbering and crying as hard as my Mom. Fucking embarrassing, let me tell you."

Jesus, I guess ya really can get attached to your dogs. Danny's eyes look a little watery right now too as a matter of fact, so I change the subject, saying, "Can you believe I slept for over an hour? This is a damn good mattress! Um, how ya feeling?" Wiping his eyes, he shrugs and mutters, "I feel a tiny bit better. You did a good job of comforting me," and then he chuckles, adding, "You're probably the only guy at Merrimack who wouldn't have told me to go fuck myself when I said I needed comforting. I wouldn't have asked anyone else obviously. Um, and there's no need for you to mention this to anyone either. It's just that you and I have this awesome relationship forming, so ya know." I'm like, "What awesome relationship is that? Friendship?" He goes, "You know what I mean," and he flops partly on my chest with his face over mine, murmuring, "Hey, do you want to do 'it'?"

Wow, this is unexpected. I mean an hour ago he was barely functioning. Oh fuck though, I feel his hard cock through his underpants against my leg. Jeez, he's recovered from not only his hangover but also those memories of Missy's passing. Plus, he must have been into a hot sexy dream just before waking up to have wood like this in his pants! Danny's looking at me with his shiny brown eyes and his cute half a smile on his lips. Fucking dimples are awesomely youthful looking, ya know. Danny's got a good chin too. I'm not a fan of guys, or girls either for that matter, with those 'ass' chins. Ya know, the chins with what looks like an ass crack in the middle and a butt cheek on each side. Fucking nature and its sense of humor, huh?

Not sure what I want to do after just waking up, so I hesitate. Obviously, the possibility of us having buddy sex seemed inconceivable when I saw him an hour ago so I'm a little flustered and consequently slow on the uptake. Plus, we fucked royally just yesterday! He goes, "C'mon, Dylan, I don't think I've ever been this horny in my life before. I'm hungover like a motherfucker and horny for you! Don't you want to do it?"

Oh man, I get this squirmy feeling all over me. Ya know, Danny's so fucking open about his feelings. It's like, all summer I couldn't get enough of him and now it seems he's that way about me. How coolly ironic is that? And feeling his boner on my leg is getting me very aroused but my hesitation is understandable because, frankly, having buddy sex with Danny was the last thing on my mind what with his hangover condition and the sad tale of Missy dying. Jesus though, this boy recovers from adversity quickly!

His face is only like ten-inches above mine and, like I said, he has that smirking cute grin going for him and now I'm having trouble breathing. And then there's that incredibly hot and sexy afternoon we had together yesterday that's flooding my mind now too. Or maybe I'm getting super aroused simply because Danny's so super aroused. Why am I surprised I'm aroused like this though? I mean considering I've had the hots for Danny all summer. It's just that this arousal came on me just like that, BANG! Taking a deep breath, I mutter, "Uh huh, sure," as I gasp in another breath. Danny murmurs, "We are so fantastic when we're doing sex together, Dylan. It's scary, huh? I can hardly believe it myself, but..."

Nodding my head, still acting like an idiot I watch his hand go under the cover and see the covers move where his crotch would be. I already felt his boner so I guess he's pulling it out, um, maybe through the fly of his boxer shorts. That would be so cool to see, but these fuckin' covers! He makes a face while taking a deep breath, a gasping breath and then reaches over me with his right arm to grab the tube of his roommate's lube off the top of the bedside table, murmuring, "Oh man, I'm so fucking horny for you." He obviously never put Speck's lubricant back in the drawer after we used it yesterday afternoon. Sounding out of breath, Danny gasps, "I'll do this."

I almost ask, 'Do what?' but he obviously means he'll spread the lube. He's lying partially against my side after reaching for the lube so I dutifully lift up and turn away from him so my asshole is off the mattress completely. He moves his body to keep me up on my side as I take another gasping deep breath, really into this now. I'm looking down at the floor almost hanging off the edge of the mattress. My left arm is pinned under me or I'd have a hand on the floor keeping me from falling off the bed.

After hurriedly stroking lube on his boner, Danny pulls my jockey shorts down so the waistband just catches under my buttocks. He must sense I'm in a precarious position because he puts his arm over my side pulling my back against him. My body is very taut now and with neither of us saying anything it's kinda weird and eerie but my dick is getting hard and I feel like I'm quivering. Then somehow I think to pull the front of my Jockey underpants down under my balls. Yeah, I remember shooting off in my underpants that time I didn't pull the front down. That happened not too long ago with either Rob or Danny because that's the totality of sex partners for me, and it has been for a while now.

With my underpants stretched around my thighs I can't spread my legs like Danny usually insists on although he hasn't been so insistent on that lately. There's a desperation in the air and it's coming from Danny so he must be experiencing some serious sexual heat. It is majorly weird to me that I'm now feeling some serious sexual heat myself when just a minute ago the thought of sex wasn't even on my mind.

Lifting my eyes I'm looking straight ahead at Speck's bed, the roommate's bed, directly across from me. It's a very neatly made bed. I'm also aware that Danny's fisting his cock again because the pre-cum wet head of his boner is pressed against my left butt cheek and the end of his fist hits my ass every time he strokes himself. He's probably spreading more lube on his dick but then I also know he likes stroking himself. In either case, I'm sure that lube will get spread all up and down that awesome cock of his really good.

He's breathing in fast bursts, almost panting and his urgency for sex is contagious. It's all happened so fast it's, um, very exciting I guess. Hard to describe how I'm feeling right now but I do like the uncertainty, the suspense. It's pretty much out of my control now anyway. Well, that's mostly self-inflicted as I could simply get out of bed and say I don't wanna do it. No way I'd do that though because I do want to do it, especially with Danny leading the way so insistently. He did ask permission; asked if I wanted to do this but I'm pretty sure Danny knew it was like asking someone if they'd like a free trip to Hawaii. What are they gonna say... no thanks? Danny knows I like having buddy sex with him. I've made that pretty fucking obvious all summer and he put an exclamation point on it yesterday afternoon, so he knew I'd want to do 'it'.

Were both on our sides with me near the edge as a finger now goes up my ass along with a glob of lube. He rubs my prostate, his finger sliding off it... and then back on it again... and then again with Danny mumbling, "This is all the foreplay I can manage this morning, Dylan. I'm so wired by now, babe, my sexual heat is off the fucking charts," and his finger comes out of my ass. The slippery head of his boner slides across my butt cheek and then he plugs it right into my ass and goes, 'Aaaaaaah, oooh, fuck!" He gasps and then pushes it all the way up my ass as he drops his left leg over both my legs, helping to keep me from falling off the bed.

My stretched anus burns as I shudder under his arm. He tightens his arm pulling my back against his chest and then he lets out a long-held breath. His exhale drifts across the side of my face smelling faintly of cinnamon from that horrid mouthwash he uses. Yeah, but Danny gets ten points for brushing his teeth and gargling last night even though he was smashed.

The burning pain around the lips of my asshole fades as Danny humps against my butt cheeks and nestles his face against the side of my neck, his longish hair tickling my ear and under my chin as he moans, "You've cast a spell on me, babe. What'd you do to me?" and then he begins thrusting his six-plus inches of wicked hard cock fast and hard with, "Slapslapslap," sounds filling the room immediately and again I think a quick thought that our fucking can certainly be heard in the hall. It was a quick passing thought though as nerve endings in my rectum explode with sexual pleasure and all I can do is close my eyes and concentrate on absorbing every ounce of pleasure my brain is registering. It feels fantastic as my body throbs with sexual pleasure and I do quiet moans of, "Oh, oh, oh, oh, Danny, oh, oh," with each fast and very hard thrust.

His arm over my side pulls my back tightly against his chest again and his leg over both of mine, plus his strong thrusting bring a submissive curtain over my mind and it heightens the sexual pleasure I'm feeling. I know that Danny somehow senses that as he jerks with his arm jolting me against his body and murmurs, "Push your ass back into my thrusting, baby," and I start doing that and almost cum with a big string of pre-cum forming at the head of my boner. It smears on my belly and then my boner begins pulling away from my belly to stick straight out in it's my most aroused position. It's so hard it's throbbing as I moan at the sexual pleasure of it all.

Both our bodies are rocking on the mattress for two and then three minutes with the thrusting getting even harder. Danny bites my shoulder and then does a long, "Aaaaaaah, oooooh," tight against me humping and I feel his hard stream of cum like a dart hit inside me. More wild humping against my ass as I assume he's shooting more cum inside me and I squirm, my body pulling away from him slightly with my boner sticking straight out, almost painful in its tightness. My squeal can probably be heard on the second floor of this dormitory as cum pumps out hard from my iron boner. I watch in horror as a long blast of creamy cum splats against the side of Speck's bedspread and a second stream arches up and coming down on top of the roommate's bedcovers. "Ooooh," is the only sound I can make as a dizzying amount of sexy buzzing swirls around my brain with my rectum, my cock sizzling with pleasure. Almost immediately my boner loses its hardness as I continue staring at all my cum drooling here and there on Speck's bedding.

Danny's body shakes against mine as his heart pounds dangerously fast against my back. He gasps, "Ooh! Omigod that was something! Oooh, ooh, shit," and he thrust his still hard cock slowly in my ass for a minute before gasping quietly, "Feels so good...." My chest is expanding as I take in lungfuls of oxygen. Closing my eyes to the mess I made across the way, I stop thinking about anything except how good everything feels over my entire body. Another shudder and I go, "Oooh, man, what the fuck happened...?"

Danny takes his arm and leg off me and rolls onto his back pulling out his hard cock. He slowly strokes it as I drop off my side to roll over on my back next to him. My left shoulder is on top of his right one with his right arm bumping my left arm as he slowly strokes his cock. Danny's still taking deep breaths but only for like twenty seconds before he does a long sigh and just lies there motionless.

My heart's still pounding away but I've totally come down off that mountain of sexual high with the submissiveness evaporating quickly. It was awesome feeling that for a while though. A slight smile is forming on my face because, damn, Danny and I are in the kind of sexual heat for each other I haven't experienced since freshman year with Ryan. Never thought I'd see that again. Hmmm, Danny's not talking so I glance at him from the corner of my eyes wondering if he's alright. I've never seen him, or anyone else, as hornily aroused as he was. I mean, not with a wicked hangover like he says he's dealing with. Could he have recovered so completely from that already? Not likely. Hangovers do not just disappear.

One more deep breath with his chest expanding so much I can see his ribs and then Danny turns his head to look at me murmuring, "Dylan, I'm so sorry, babe. I never experienced anything like that before in my life and my fucking head is still aching like a motherfucker. I was in a frenzy of horniness... oh man, that was sick, dude! I couldn't believe it. What do you think it was?" I shrug against the mattress, "Gee, I don't know, Danny. Are you alright?" He goes, "I don't know, but that was a world class orgasm I just had, I do know that much. Oooh, God, I must have shot six ounces of spunk up your ass."

Yeah, and it's all drooling out on his bed but I don't want to ruin his memory moment by mentioning that. Danny reaches over to run his fingers back through my flattop, saying, "Jesus, I can't even describe how good that climax felt!" Another deep breath and he says, "I feel bad taking that out on you though. Um, did you...?" I nod my head, "Well, yeah, holy shit, Danny, I got 'off' like a fucking racehorse." I nod my head a little towards his roommate's bed, adding, "I got some spunk on, um, over there on Speck's stuff." Danny doesn't even look, mumbling, "Big deal. We'll wipe it off." Then he turns to look at me, asking, "Dude, do racehorses have huge climaxes?" I chuckle as I shrug again, muttering, "They're so big, maybe. I should Google that and find out." He snickers and then makes a 'face', groaning, "Ow, my fucking head..."

We lay silently for a minute and then Danny goes up on his side and pushes his arm under the back of my neck. Pulling the side of my head against his chest, stretching my neck. He lies back down and says, "I'm not blaming you for my sexual madman routine, but you are so fucking, um, wonderful or... I don't know, you're special and sexy and so awesome to fuck... heh heh... sorry for being crude. Um, well, come to think of it I guess in a way you are partially to blame for my sexual madness after all," and he kisses the top of my head keeping his lips there so it's like a ten-second kiss. My arm flops across his chest to hold on to him so my neck isn't the only thing keeping me up off the mattress.

It's almost funny how excitedly aroused he got. How long this condition will last remains to be seen. I mean the condition of Danny being wicked turned on by moi. It's awesome though! Whatever, but I gotta admit for now that Danny's almost made up for the lost summer just with these past two days. Obviously, haha, my concerns about Danny's libido were premature... and totally unwarranted. This guy is a sex machine when he gets going.

He loosens his grip on me, saying, "You must think I've lost my mind and maybe I have because I've never been so, um, out of control before. Oh, and I better not bring up why I think that is." Which means he wants me to ask him why he thinks that is, but I'm not going to because I'm concerned he'd say he's in love... and I don't think he is. I've been in this position before, and like I've said before, it's flattering beyond words but... it's not love!

Hell, I feel the sexual heat between Danny and me too, and it really is something special to experience but I've experienced it before with other guys so I know it doesn't last. I'm going to enjoy it while it does last though. Buddy sex and sexual heat like Danny and I are experiencing lasted on and off with Ryan Wilcox and me for over two years and before that, it lasted over a year with Willie too, and embarrassingly I felt a ridiculous amount of sexual heat with that asshole Ray as well. That didn't last even a month though, and my pathetic excuse for it lasting even that long was me being on the rebound from Ryan at the time. Then there have been a few much shorter versions of runaway sexual heat over the past four-plus years, you know, with a few other guys who I thought were hotter sexually than the sun, but only for a few hours, days, or weeks before realizing I was wrong about that.

Those experiences used to be fabulous, but scary too. I'm older, wiser, and more experienced now so I hope I can just enjoy Danny's and my supernova of sexual heat while it lasts. Danny says, "Maybe it's because I deprived myself of your sexual company most of the summer when I stupidly thought I was being loyal to my old friend, and now I'm catching up. Do you think that could be it? I mean, because I'm serious about this: if I could, I'd kidnap you and we'd have sex all day long and into the night. And I mean the nuclear hot sex we had yesterday afternoon and just a little while ago. So, whaddya think about that, Dylan?" Shrugging again, I go, "Jeez, don't kidnap me, dude! But seriously, I don't know what's going through your head. I can't help you with that. I do like it a lot though... haha. You can shower all your sexual attention on me; it's welcome so don't worry about that little detail." He says, "Please don't make a joke out of this, Dylan. I think it's, um, ah... important and special how our relationship is developing, don't you?"

Turning my head to look him in the eyes, I say, "Yes, I think it's special, but in a super-special buddy-sex way." By now I'm used to Danny ignoring the parts he doesn't want to hear. He goes, "Absolutely it's super-special, plus I don't think we need to feel guilty about any of this, do you?" See, he fixated only on the word 'special' from what I just said and completely ignore the words 'buddy sex'. That's because he wants our relationship to be more than that. He's still has a little of being disloyal to his friend, Rob, on his mind though. That's sweet but Christ, he'll have me feeling guilty when there's no reason for it!

I say, "There's no need for guilt, Danny, we're buddies in our little gay group having buddy sex, right? So what's the harm?" He nods, murmuring, "Uh huh. You're right, there's no reason to feel guilty about our new relationship." See, he agrees with the 'no guilt' part but again completely bypasses my comment about us doing buddy sex and instead refers to it as 'our new relationship'. I wonder if that's subconscious or if he does it on purpose?

Whatever he thinks, apparently he's still horny because he says, "It's so good that we agree! Dylan, you're awesome!" I'm not sure what we agreed on, but he's moving past whatever it is, asking, "Would you think I'm crude if I wanted to have sex with you on your hands and knees? I desperately want to fuck you like that. You don't need to think of it as lover's sex if you don't care to. Um, don't worry about semantics, okay? Ya know, I just want to do it right for you instead of fucking you like a wild animal in heat which I felt like l was a little while ago."

Wow, am I hearing this correctly? This little bed is turning into 'THE' best buddy sex bed of all time, heh heh, but I don't say that. Instead, I say, "Um, was that a question? That hands and knees thing... Is that what you're asking me to do now?" He gives me a look like he thinks I'm being a wise-ass again, so I mutter, "Okay, you weren't asking me a rhetorical question then, right? You want me to get on my hands and knees on this bed." He nods and murmurs, "If you don't mind, yeah." I go, "So, yeah, I'm good with getting on my hands and knees. It's just so soon after your wild animal sex I thought you meant in the future would I mind doing it like that..." He's just staring at me barely nodding his head like he's encouraging me to get to my point, so I add, "Ah.... never mind what I was saying," and I pull away from his arm and, still under the covers, get on my hands and knees almost slipping off the side of the bed.

As I'm doing that I glance at Danny's cock. Damn, it looks about as hard as a cock can get. Very impressive considering he just blasted a couple of ounces of jism up my ass not fifteen minutes ago. Danny gets up and pats my ass, mumbling, "Thanks, but I have no idea what all that stuff you were saying was about," and he tosses the covers to the bottom of the bed. Danny gets behind me pushing me further toward the front of the bed until the pillow is below my head. A rasping breath from Danny indicates he's getting aroused all over again. No hesitation, he pushes his cock in past my sphincter muscle and then slides it tightly but steadily all the way up my ass. I'm still opened up back there and, oh my God, does anything in the world feel as good as that boner of Danny's going up my ass? Holy shit, my whole body shakes. Danny says, "Feels good for me too, babe. We're made for each other... um, you know, perfect fuck partners."

Nothing feels as good as having a hot cute guy's big boner up my ass and Danny's cock, as I think about every time we do this, is perfect for anal sex! For me, it is anyhow. He starts right out steadily thrusting but not anything like his frantic fucking a little while ago. Like he said, he wants to do this right, proving to me he's under control and is, therefore, able to do a normal or maybe even a little bit special buddy fuck.

Yes, he starts out that way but he doesn't keep himself in check for very long before the "Slapslapslap," sounds fill the room again. I love it though and Danny's doing that seemingly impossible technique of his where he does the fast hard thrust and then his fast withdrawals pulls back so far the lips of my asshole are barely holding onto the neck of his boner's head with my anus stretching outward until I know the whole thing will come out... except it never does. The head is immediately sliding deliciously and tightly, leading all six-plus inches of boned-up cock back up my ass over my prostate creating a state of euphoria in me.

There isn't anything in the world that can come close to matching the pure pleasure of anal sex. It's the best part of being alive and Danny's doing it awesomely again. He's so consistently good at fucking I'm already moaning at the sensations flooding my brain's pleasure center. Sexual pleasure is mostly emanating from my ass and dick but it's felt all over me!

Danny increases his thrusting smacking his crotch area against my ass and it's louder "Slapslapslap" sounds with him doing his heavy noisy breathing and me doing my, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, ummmm, Danny, umm," until it sounds like I'm whining with desire, which actually I soon am. My climax is again building fast and my skin feels alive and tingly, the roots of my hair itch and there's a fantastic feeling all over me. Nerve endings sparkling with pleasure until I feel like I can barely stand it. The "SLAPSLAPSLAP," sounds ringing in my ears and in my mind I see Danny's awesome boner disappearing up my ass and immediately reappearing rapidly over and over... and OOOh, it feels so good!!!

My head drops to the pillow as I push my ass up further for Danny and he thrusts away as fast and hard as he did the first time. There's no way to ignore that Danny's very dominant when he's 'topping'. And I don't want to ignore it anyway as I feel submissive to him all over again. It's a state of mind, one that Danny helps along without him even knowing he's doing it. For instance, if my hips drop a little in my frantic state of sexual pleasure he'll yank them up to the position he wants them to stay in. We're both rocking back and forth on the bed, me siding on my knees a little, Danny's fingers digging into the skin on my hips while that piston boner of his keeps firing up my ass. Close to the perfect fuck for me!

Danny growls and then in a sort of whimper, goes, "Ummm... Ohh, Dylan, I'm gonna cum again already." Meanwhile, my boner is moving away from my belly to stick straight out so hard it doesn't move even as I rock forward and backward from Danny's hard humping. I feel the piss slit of my cock gaping open and my nuts tighten up against my body as my eyes snap open and I lift up on my arms, my body getting stiff as a board with my hips humping forward a little and I squeal, 'Aiiiiieee," with cum shooting straight out of my stone boner hitting the bed's headboard this time, splattering there and then it begins drooling down as another shot of cum follows and then a third. My eyes were closed before the climax to reduce the number of senses from five down to basically just the sense of touch. I was concentrating all my being on the sensations coming from two places: my rectum and my stone hard cock and that's when my climax erupted causing a few seconds of pure ecstasy and my eyes snapped open. On man, this never ever gets old!

In that other dimension, the otherworldly one of orgasmic climax that lasts about seven seconds, I heard Danny moan, "Ouuuu, oooooh!" as he was frantically humping against my buttocks and I'm sure shooting a much smaller load up my ass. As I'm coming down from the mountaintop Danny just lies on my ass, still fully impaling me, doing his deep breathing. I'm out of my spectacular universe by now, my body limp as I'm enjoying the buzzing after effects of that climax. Wonderful tingling sensations twirling around my pelvic region that are fading too quickly... and then a sigh from me. I'm not thinking about anything right now, just doing a contented sigh.

This fuck wasn't as fast as the first one but it didn't last a lot longer either. Maybe four or five minutes of ecstasy before I blew my load. I slide my feet back, coming down off my hands and knees to lie in some cum spray, my own. Danny comes with me, his cock still up my ass as he lies on my back and breathes against the side of my face not saying anything. Most of my orgasm is still drooling down the bed's headboard that about six inches from my head.

Sighing quietly again, returning back to the real world where it's not so bad either, I focus on the last few minutes that felt so fucking good. Hell, I wouldn't even try putting that into words. That kind of deep sexual pleasure is just that... deep sexual pleasure and I can't articulate it to myself any better. But I surely know how fantastic it was.

Obviously, I'm intrigued by Danny's recent infatuation for us having buddy sex together, I mean to the degree we've been doing it. I've bitched about my very limited side or buddy sex this past summer, I mean compared to my recent summers and not necessarily compared to anyone else's side or buddy sex summer 'cause who knows how much sex anyone else might be getting. So yeah, I bitched about it and it's ironic how that's turned completely around this past week or so. And, while this summer was mostly devoid of side and buddy sex, at the same time Rob and I were having more sex than ever before which got me through the summer okay.

Rob's sex is special in a different way than Danny's sex is special; one is lover's sex and the other buddy sex albeit with a special buddy. Rob and I agreed not to talk about side sex and until this week I've had very little to not talk about anyhow. I don't know what the situation has been for Rob and his possible buddy sex because, um, we don't talk about it. But, boy oh boy, with this latest Danny development and Rob's always awesome lover's, plus his and my anytime sex, and now plus Pony coming in later tonight... Omigod, I find myself with an embarrassment of riches, sex-wise. The hell with last summer!

Danny slides off me dragging his flaccid cock from my satisfied ass. He lies next to me on his back again with his forearm across his eyes as he takes a few deep breaths. As I said, I'm on my stomach and now we're touching from shoulders to feet because there's no room to spread out at all, not that I want to spread out. The silence is getting awkward so I go, "Two of the fastest climaxes on record, huh Danny?" He shakes his head, muttering, "I'm embarrassed about attacking you like I did... twice! I'm, oh I don't know, I'm acting like I've just discovered sex or something." I go, "No, it's been, um, great sexy fun, that's all."

He turns his head, taking his arm off his eyes, saying seriously, "I think I lost it, or I'm having a breakdown... or maybe something worse? Lost my mind or turned into a sex fiend maybe. Jesus, we had great sex yesterday which left me feeling awesome and happy and I thought I was totally sexually fulfilled! I was so pleasantly contented sex-wise I can't ever remember feeling better and then, even with my wicked hangover, I go Madmax on you this morning... not even twenty-four hours later! And you were so nice to get in bed with me too. God, I think back to me begging you to comfort me. It's humiliating, that's what it is, and then when I wake up and see you there I go ape-shit with desire. Oh man, what's up with that?" I murmur, "There's nothing wrong with you, Danny. We're young and a tiny bit oversexed perhaps, but that happens to lucky people. We're a couple of the lucky ones. It's nothing to be worried about! Be glad!"

He grins, "It's you! You put a curse on me! Did you do that because of me ignoring you last summer and now you're getting even?" I'm like, "Riiiight, that must be it. I put a curse on you." He goes up on his side seemingly coming out of his goofy worried mood, and says, "So, you think we're okay; that I'm okay? You said nothing to worry about, right?" I go, "That's right. Hey, how's your hangover? Getting any better?" He rubs his hand over his face, muttering, "Nah, I still have this fucking hangover but I feel fantastic when we're doing it. Then afterward, a few minutes later I feel awful again."

We lie here without talking for a while. I'm feeling fresh and, um, really good after that sex. Turning my head and looking at him though, he looks pale now. Hard to believe he's the same guy who was so energized doing the fast hard sex. I quietly ask, "Is your stomach feeling any better?" He goes, "Nah, it hurts from throwing up. I got up this morning needing to take a wicked piss so I staggered down to the lav. It was still dark outside but I don't know what time it was. Anyway, while pissing I threw up in the urinal." As bad as he feels, he snickers and turn his head to me, saying, "It's gonna gross out the entire floor, heh heh." I go, "Disgusting," and he mutters, "Yeah, it is."

Another few seconds of silence and he mumbles, "After throwing up I came back to the room in a drunken fog and got my toiletry kit. Bumping into things I when back to the lavatory and used the furthest sink from that urinal to wash my face and hands and then brush my teeth and gargle like crazy with mouthwash. Vomit doesn't taste good." I mutter, "No shit, but how can you stand that cinnamon mouthwash?" He's like, "It's better than mint! I can't stand mint. Anyway, the ACT cinnamon mouthwash is the best. The Listerine cinnamon tastes, um, artificial." I mutter, "Jesus..."

Okay, what to do? Finally, I say, "Well, we gotta get that car dropped off at your Mom's, right?" He says, "Dylan, would you say I'm the best guy, the best buddy sex guy you've ever been with?" Oh, balls! He ignored the question about the car because he doesn't want to do it yet. I go, "Yes, you're one of the best, Danny. Definitely!" Still looking at me, his head turned to me with him still flat on his back, both of us under the covers, he goes, "One of the best? How about, the best?" I say, "Right now you're the best, yep!"

He nods and then moves his head back so that he's looking up at the ceiling and we're silent for another minute before he asks, "How many guys am I better than? Ya know, how many guys are you doing 'it' with as buddies, um, I mean presently?" I go, "Aren't you the guy who told me you don't talk about other side sex?" He says, "Yeah, I don't. But how many other guys would you say you're doing it with?" Haha!

I laugh and then look at him and say, "Well, just you, presently," and he goes, "Fuck, so I'm best out of one; just me, huh?" I go, "Yeah, but you're among the best of a lot of guys in my past too." Still looking at the ceiling, he goes, "So, you're back to me being 'one of' the best again." What the fuck? I start to say something and he snorts out a laugh and then says, "Just breaking your balls a little, Dylan," and he turns his whole body to look at me as he says, "I can say without qualifying it at all that you're my favorite buddy sex buddy of all time. Whaddaya think about that?"

Looking at him, I go, "I'm fucking flattered, that's what," and then I add, "You're feeling a little better, ain't ya?" He grins, "Looking at you makes me feel better, yeah," and he lifts his leg over both of mine and brings his body over to lie partially on me supporting himself on his forearms, each of his hands gripping my biceps. I stare into his pretty brown eyes as he says, "I love you," and he kisses me. I know I shouldn't be encouraging him after his 'love' comment but I can't help kissing back. He's deliciously sexy... what can I say?

We make-out for a while and then he gets his hands on either side of my head, his chest lying fully on mine now and he licks my face like he did yesterday and bites my right ear. My body seems to shimmer as he licks up the front of my nose again with lots of saliva on his tongue. Grinning, he says, 'Do that inhaling thing you did yesterday. I loved that; it was so defiantly cool of you." I sniff in his saliva and he smiles, asking, "Ya wanna do it again?" He's got me in a trance, or I've put myself in a trance, I nod and he slides down off of me, saying, "Lift your legs, okay?"

This time he does a slow fuck that goes on for, I don't know how long 'cause it feels so good I'm not thinking about time, but it must be fifteen minutes or so before I feel another orgasm building and, like it normally does, it comes on me like a freight train as I moan, "Aaaaaah," and shoot cum straight up... three very fast moving short shots of cum feeling so good it's sick! Danny's face is red and sweaty as he makes that expression like he's in pain, the look he gets before climaxing as he's humping against my buttocks, groaning, "Ooooooh," and then another hump as he fills me up again with his creamy load of cum. He shudders like I do sometimes and then he looks really beat up. Deep breathing while looking down at me. I'm still holding my legs back, my bare feet dangling near my butt cheeks. I look up at Danny and he murmurs, "That was the best climax yet but without a lot of cum." He said it like he's apologizing for having a small climax. I can just nod my head as I'm still feeling those awesome after effects of my orgasm

As the sensations sizzle and then fade out, I'm lying here grinning at him because this is so cool; maybe the most unexpected Sunday of sex ever. Who would have imagined Danny with his monstrous hangover somehow pulling this off? Yesterday and today Danny's been incredibly sexy as the 'top', but he's acted very differently from the few random times we fucked last summer. Those couple of times he started out doing buddy sex as if it was lover's sex. That went on for like the first half of our fuck and then he'd change everything and end up with what I consider official buddy sex. Big orgasm but when it's over you move on to something else, like, 'Are you hungry? I'm starving'. Or ya start talking about the Patriots or whatever. Today it was rough sex without any foreplay, so there was very little lover's sex except for a few affectionate moves by Danny and, of course, him saying he loves me. So with Danny, like I always say, ya just never know...

He goes, "Wow, is all I can say, babe. That sex was so smooth and perfect," and he pulls his cock out with both our shoulders shuddering as he does it. Stepping back off the bed with me still holding my legs back, Danny looks at me for a second and chuckles before stepping over, saying, "Keep your legs like that, okay?" I can't believe he can go again .... but I nod my head, murmuring, "Sure, Danny," and he begins spanking the shit out of my ass. "SMACKSNACKSMACK!" for like thirty seconds. I'm like, "OW OW!" and why I keep holding my legs back I can't imagine, but I do. He stops and blows on his hand, muttering, "That stings," and then, looking at me he's snickering again before muttering, "I know, I should have done that first. Sorry, but better late than never, huh?" I think Danny's working off another misconception he got from Rob about what I like. A few smacks on the ass is good, a full blown spanking, not so good.

My ass is on fire, stinging and burning. I go, "What the fuck?" but he's getting his toiletry kit, saying, "I'm gonna take a shower. Maybe it'll help me get over this fucked-up hangover. We can drop off the car after that." I'm still in shock and still holding my legs back as he grins saying, "It's okay. You can let go of your legs. And you say you don't need to be bossed around! Don't worry though, I can do that for you." I'm trying to get out of this submissive trance as he goes, "Oh, and I'll bring a washcloth back with me and help clean up the, um, cum and whatever on your hot body and I guess Speck's stuff too and, um, the bed's headboard too I guess."

I probably have an incredulous expression on my face. Actually, I'm not sure what expression I have on my face. Danny shoots me with his forefinger and thumb, saying, "I think you're way better than just awesome, just so ya know how I feel," and he smiles and gives a little wave as he goes out the door. I finally take my arms from around my legs and stretch them out, muttering, "Ow, ow," because my butt cheeks still sting. My ass is red and really stinging like mad. Holy shit though, my dick's kinda firm again. Can I believe any of this? What have I got myself into with Danny Monday?

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 usually around 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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