DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter 56
by Donny Mumford
This past week for me was almost a carbon copy of the previous one, and the two weeks before that now that I think about it. This weekend will be different from the last three though, different in two ways: one, the baseball team doesn't have a game Saturday and, two, for those of us who are Christians... Sunday is Easter.
Rob was raised Catholic and me Protestant although neither of our families regularly attends church services. I read that a survey conducted by the Public Religion Research Institute concluded that Christians generally overstate their religiosity. In the survey, thirty-eight percent of Americans claimed they regularly attend church services while attendance studies at places of worship indicate the figure is closer to twenty percent.
Yeah, people of the Christian faith mostly celebrate religious holidays in non-religious traditional ways. For example, the twenty-fifth of December is Christmas and most Christian families celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ by putting up a Christmas tree and decorating it, then they place gifts under the tree that usually are opened Christmas morning, although some people open their presents on Christmas Eve.
Christ was crucified and died on a Friday (Good Friday) and rose from the dead the following Sunday (Easter Sunday) and therefore Easter is the other major Christian religious celebration. Easter has the highest percentage of Christians attending church, although not the majority of Christians. Instead, some buy a new Easter outfit they put on for an Easter parade, but by far the most popular acknowledgment of Easter is filling Easter baskets with candy for the kids, and then maybe there's an Easter egg hunt outside if it's not raining.
When Rob and I wake up Saturday morning we're not thinking about whether we'll be attending church services tomorrow. We're thinking about the glory of sex... and then we do more than just 'thinking about it'. We have a very nice sexual interlude beginning as lovers and transitioning into sex maniacs doing some rough and tumble fucking. We're gaspingly catching our breath after satisfying climaxes, and then Robby mutters, "That was nice." I nod my head in agreement, muttering, "Uh, huh." Now we're ready to begin this Saturday with contented smiles on our faces.
First a shower, and then breakfast, and then a cigarette on the balcony as we finish our coffees. I'm like, "Obviously, we aren't exactly rushing to get to Danny's barbershop." Rob shrugs, "Fuck that. There's no compelling reason for us to get home at any special time, so there's no need to rush into anything." Exhaling cigarette smoke, I mumble, "Good. I'm not in a 'rushing around' mood this morning. I'm feeling lazy." Rob says, "And another thing, if we got home early my dad will find something for us to do, some errand to run or chores to do." I mutter, "People do 'chores' on a farm, Rob, and we don't live on one." He shrugs and we do a chore here, we straighten up the apartment and then head for Danny Monday's dormitory barbershop.
Lots of Danny's customers are overdue for haircuts because the last three Saturdays Danny played in baseball games as a member of Merrimack College's baseball team. The team's record is a disappointing eight wins and eight losses at the midpoint of their season. A season full of high expectations that, unfortunately, came crashing down when they actually began playing the games.
This time there's no 'haircut discussion' about going to a regular barbershop downtown. Instead, we're resigned to dealing with the 'waiting' we'll need to endure at Danny's. We did try getting our haircuts at one of the North Andover barbershops which, had we been successful, would have cost twenty dollars each. I never thought it was a good idea and even though I maintained an open-minded approach, as I expected it didn't work out for us at all. With our tails between our legs, we returned to the free barber and quietly waited our turn as Danny had told us to do in the first place.
Waiting for over a month between haircuts isn't even a 'blip' of concern on the radar screens of the vast majority of college guys. Most of them couldn't give a flying fuck that it's been five weeks or even eight weeks since their last haircut. The thought that they might want to look neatly groomed for Easter isn't a thought that would normally enter most guy's minds... literally, that concept wouldn't occur to 98% of our fellow students.
Yeah, but Rob and I are different for three reasons. For one, short haircuts like ours do not retain that crisp new 'look' even after a week, never mind five weeks. The crisp 'look' is the appeal for haircut aficionados such as myself. Oh, I grant you aficionados like me are almost as rare as rocking-horse shit, but I care about it and to a lesser degree, so does Rob. He cares about it mostly because of the second reason, which is that neat haircuts are on his dad's radar screen. Yeah, for whatever reason, Mr. Dickers cares about our grooming as though we're in the military, and since we are going home today... duh. That's partially why I care about it too, but it's the third reason that's exclusive to me, and it's that I actually like getting haircuts.
While Rob's driving us onto the campus, I'm asking what his family normally does on Easter? I'm like, "Will we need to dress up for dinner? And, you know, what does your mom have for Easter dinner, and will there be other family members there like your grandparents for example? It's no big deal... I'm just curious." Rob slams on the brakes, muttering, "Assholes," at two girls who dashed out in front of the pickup. No way could they be expected to wait for the one-second it would take us to drive by them! And then they give us a dirty look... Christ!
Rob exhales exasperatedly, asking, "Um, what was that, babe? Dress up for dinner, you say?" I go, "Yeah, for Easter." He shrugs, "Oh, hell, I don't know... yeah, a little I guess, um, whatever." Then, as he's parking, I'm like, "What do you have for Easter dinner?" He's like, "Um, a ham usually. Wait, I think mom had a leg of lamb once or twice. Have you ever had that?" I go, "Yeah, um, I don't know. I've had lamb chops, not for Easter though. Um, Chubby likes lamb chops with that artificial mint jelly. You know, the funny green jelly?" Rob yells out the pickup's side window, "Yo, Barns!" and a guy wearing pajama bottoms and no shirt waves and yells back, "Are you staying here for Easter, Rob?" Rob yells back, "Nope." This guy, Barns, yells, "Too bad!" and he walks around the corner without saying why it's 'too bad'. Huh, I wonder where he's going dressed like that?
The weather today is predicted to be in the mid-sixties, which is nice, but it's not a sunny day. The weather this spring, generally speaking, has sucked but that's not unusual for spring weather in the Northeast. As we get out of the pickup, Rob says, "Let's have a smoke before we go inside." As we're lighting our cigarettes, I'm like, "Are we gonna quit smoking when we graduate? That's what Chub and I always said we'd do." Robby mumbles, "Yeah, I sort of promised my parents I would. If we do it together, babe, it'll be easier." I go, "We don't smoke that much, and occasionally it's like, um, a stress reliever. I was thinking I'll quit when I'm thirty 'cause that makes more sense, but if Chubby does quit, um...." Rob mumbles, "If you're still alive at thirty," and he laughs out loud. I laugh too.
We smoke our cigarettes silently for a few seconds with me thinking about my family... Mom, Tris, and the twins are having Easter dinner in Italy. They're on a trip there partly for the twins' business, but some vacation time too. My mom actually asked me if I'd mind if she and Tris weren't here for Easter. I told her I don't mind as long as she leaves my Easter basket full of the usual awful Easter candy. I cannot be expected to make it through till next Easter without those stale yellow and pink marshmallow bunnies covered in sugar and then the imitation chocolate covered tall skinny marshmallow bunnies. Oh, and jelly beans too and, um, I forget what else. She laughed when I mentioned an Easter basket and then said she'd be sure to make one up for me before she left. So, ya know, no problem.
They left last Wednesday for their ten-day trip, the first time mom and Tris have been out of the country. They got their passports the same time Chubby got his. Chubby, by the way, was invited to have Easter dinner with us but he's staying at Merrimack this weekend. John Beverly and him have Easter dinner dates with girls who live in the Midwest and because of the distance they obviously aren't going home for two days. They're eating at an Easter buffet at a hotel in Boston, and then they'll probably get laid.
Exhaling a stream of smoke, Rob says, "It feels odd NOT playing a ballgame today." I'm like, "Uh huh, and I'll bet it feels odd for Danny doing haircuts again after not doing any for the last three weeks. It'll probably be crowded in his dorm, don't ya think?" Rob shrugs, "Not really. A lot of students went home yesterday. Ya know, on Good Friday."
Robby's not all that concerned as he mumbles, "Damn, I'm wicked disappointed in our team's season this year, Dylan. We thought we had a team that would easily make the playoffs but it ain't happening. Some of the seniors on the team have regressed instead of improving. Fuck, I regressed! I hit better last year and that 'effing error I made in the last game!" I don't know what he's talking about, but I mutter, "Jeez, that sucks." I haven't gone to any away games this year and I've only been to three games here at the college ballpark. It's like I've been going to Rob's games since we were seniors in high school, and then four years at college... ya know? If they'd win a little more often maybe I'd go more often.
Actually, I've never been much of a fan of any of Merrimack's sports teams. Colleges the size of Merrimack rarely attract elite college athletes. Um, make that... 'never' attract elite college athletes. Anyway, I'm kinda antsy right now because, yes, I'M GETTING A HAIRCUT! Oh, it's no big deal to normal guys, I know that, but me and my uninvited fetish, ya know...big deal.
Rob steps on his cigarette butt, saying, "Well, are you ready to do this, babe?" I nod, mumbling "Yeah, sure, let's go," and a nervous/sick/excited feeling creeps all over me, all three sensations swirl around my stomach and groin at the same time. And, complicating matters further, the fetish is sexual in nature as I may have mentioned before.
As we walk down dormitory row I try to act like a normal person going to the barbershop, saying, "It's understandable Danny didn't have the inclination to do haircuts on Sundays, don't ya think? I mean, that's the only day you guys usually have off from practice or playing in games. Danny probably needed to get caught up on his studies too." Robby yells at a guy ahead of us, "Hey, Softball!" and the big guy turns around and yells back, "Hey, it the error king! Make any errors recently?" Oh, fuck! Ballplayers and their nicknames! Rob snickers, saying to me, "That dick called me 'Error' because I made that error in the Boston game. Haha, the asshole."
We're three feet from the big guy now and Rob says, "You've got a fucking lot of nerve, Softball. I make one 'effing error all year. Christ, you've dropped more pop-ups this year than that freshman kid who's blind in one eye." They do a guy hug and then the big guy says, "Can you believe Coach Davis almost gave that half-blind motherfucker a spot on the team?" Then they stand here blocking the sidewalk bullshitting about the team. Oh, brother! This big oaf has been on the baseball team along with Rob since freshmen year and I know his name, um, but can't recall it right now. He's one of the two catchers on the team and Rob's roommate on road games. Um, I believe this big oaf is married too. A senior in college, married with a kid. Whatever...
Looking down past the next dormitory to Danny's dorm, I see two guys going in the front door. I'm not sure. Hmm, I hope that's their dorm and they're not two guys going for haircuts. Then I hear guffawing from the big catcher and I glance over at him. Well fuck, at least he's not getting a haircut. He's one of those guys with a full head of hair, but for some God-awful reason shaves his head. Why would anyone do that? Stupid! Yeah, and how'd a bald guy find someone willing to marry him?
Someone pats me on the back as they walk by, saying, "Hey, Dylan. Ya ready for Professor asshole's final?" I smile, mumbling, "Wha'sup, Pete? No, I'm not ready... I plan on copying off you." He laughs and says, "Ill study harder in that case," and I watch him walk past Danny's dorm. Good, he didn't go in. That was Pete Paul. Yeah, another guy with two first names. Anyway, he sits next to me in our Web Site Design course and our professor is a legitimate asshole as Pete alluded to. Here's the thing though... I'm pretty sure Pete's in the gay 'closet' and I think he has a crush on me.
Why do I say that? Maybe I'm projecting but Pete's full of compliments for me every day we have class and he's always asking me if I'm going to this or that frat party, or whatever. And he's one of those touchy/feely guys too so, ya know... And, he's a nice-looking guy with great hair and he's one of the few guys in the world who will talk about haircuts with me. That's if I mention his haircut, um, when he gets one which isn't often enough if you ask me. Most guys would blow off a haircut discussion in two seconds, but Pete doesn't. To be honest though, he'll talk about anything I wanna talk about. He's like that, and he's got the cutest grin too. Plus he thinks I'm funny! If I met him last year... well, never mind that now. It's not last year, but I'm glad he sits next to me in that boring class... I like Pete.
Oh, I just heard Robby call the big guy, Roland. Yeah, that's his name, Roland Day. I've heard Rob say the name telling me about shit that happens on away games. Hell, I've got nothing against Roland although he could lose a few pounds... just saying. Oh good, he just said he's meeting someone. Rob and Roland bump fist and Roland says to me, "Why so quiet, Dylan?" I go, "Yo, Roland, wassup?" I didn't realize he knew my name.
He walks away and Robby turns to me, and says, "Christ, he used to be a funny fucker but all he talks about anymore is his one-month-old baby girl." I go, "Oh, yeah?" We start walking and Rob goes, "And that makes me think about something. What if we have a baby girl? You know, when one of our sperm impregnates a surrogate mother. Raising a girl is like, well I don't know what it's like. Would we know what to do?" I shrug, "Will we know what to do raising a baby boy, or a baby rabbit? Nobody knows shit about it ahead of time. Ya read something online or whatever. How hard could it be if everybody is doing it?"
Still walking toward Danny's dorm, Robby says, "You're grossly underestimating the job of parenting, and you'll be the one who, um...." and he catches himself and changes the subject, asking, "What kind of haircut are you gonna get?" I give him a 'look' and say, "I don't know, but what were you saying about me being the one who... the one who what?"
It's Rob who makes a 'face' now, mumbling, "Well, don't you want to be the one who, you know, stays home with the kids." I go, "Kids, as in plural? And why wouldn't we hire a nanny, or whatever you call someone who stays with the baby while we both work?" Robby says, "I'm thinking it'd be better if you..." He sees me giving him another 'look' and shrugs, muttering, "But, I'm open to whatever you want to do in that regard, Dylan. Sorry I assumed otherwise. I seem to remember a conversation when you said you were leaving the decision about that up to me? Let's not argue though." Oh fuck, I probably agreed to something in a weak moment once. I mutter, "I'm not arguing."
We go inside Danny's dorm room and it kinda bugs me that Robby goes right in without the courtesy knock first. He never does the courtesy knock. I always do it because it seems like something you should do. Maybe that's the difference between being confident like Rob and being not so confident like me. Not just about the courtesy 'knock'... about everything. Maybe it's a metaphor as to who is, and who isn't confident about things. Or it could be I'm simply more polite, generally speaking than Rob. Actually, I think I am. Or it could be neither of those things. Yeah, that should cover all the possibilities of the courtesy 'knock', 'no-knock', situation.
We're standing inside the door and Omigod, Danny holding the barber clippers looks so hot... and also, calm, cool, and collected... and in-charge too. He looks up to see who came in without knocking and then gives us a great smile as he asks, "Can I get a ride home with you guys later this afternoon... again, haha? Not to take advantage or anything, but..." We gave him a ride home almost five weeks ago for spring break... that what he meant by 'again'. Robby asks, "What the fuck happened to that car you were supposed to get?" Danny shrugs, "I'm still getting it, but I don't have it yet."
Seeing Danny holding the barber clippers gives me a buzzing sensation in my nuts that feels scary/good. I haven't seen a lot of him recently and seeing him now as my barber... Jesus! The last time I saw him was at the Quad, um, early last week I think. Yeah, it was Wednesday. Without me knowing it he had followed Rob and me in the Quad and put his hand on the back of my neck sort of pulling me back against him. Rob walked over to talk with some guys and it surprised me feeling Danny's hand at the back of my neck like that, but I knew it was his hand immediately. He was kinda sweet then, whispering an apology that we haven't been able to spend time together. He made it seem as though it's been all his fault. Well, in a way it has been, I suppose. I mean, he could quit the baseball team... haha!
As I said, Rob was off talking with some guy so Danny and I got coffees. I got an extra one for Robby and then we set the coffees down on the table Danny chose. I couldn't think of anything to say. Danny could though. My arm was lying on the table and he put his hand on my wrist telling me some nice compliments and saying how much he missed me. I couldn't stop staring at him and he noticed that, obviously, so he stopped talking and gave my arm a little squeeze while smiling at me along with, what I interpreted, as a knowing smirk. When I averted my eyes he murmured, "Don't look away, baby. I know you miss me too, but I'm gonna make it up to you." He makes me feel like a little kid sometimes. I stuttered, "Um, wha... no, I mean, sure I miss you, but I'm not... um.." Christ, I was an idiot.
He grinned and patted my arm, saying, "Just a couple of more weeks, be patient, okay?" Embarrassed that I was acting like a dork, I pulled my arm away, muttering something dumb about his batting average. He snickered asking, "You can't mean my batting average with you... that's not what you meant is it?" I was like, "You ass-hat, I meant your baseball batting average and you knew that!" He chuckled and then drank some coffee, then he said he was sorry for teasing me but that I was so easy to tease it's hard for him to resist doing it.
He said something like that, and it was all really friendly. From then on I concentrated on not staring at him as he talked about how fast the semester is going by, and about the poor start for the baseball team, and he mentioned how he missed doing haircuts, and then told me how badly I needed one... haha! No surprise there! The thing is, I'd acted almost star-struck by him so while he was being super friendly I acted the opposite by being gruff with my comments. It's just that I hadn't seen him hardly at all, not since spring break and mostly it hurt how easily he seems to get along without me.
Robby joined us and they talked baseball as I mostly hated myself for being a dork but, fuck, my more-than-a-crush thing on Danny is percolating right along without any end in sight so, yeah, it's a problem. A problem I have no idea what to do about, not yet anyhow. And I was completely wrong with my prediction Danny would lose interest in haircutting before Christmas. That's what I predicted way back in the fall, but I was far off the mark on that.
Anyway, remembering my embarrassing behavior with Danny last week at the Quad, I make sure not to stare at him now as Rob tells Danny, "Yeah, of course, you can get a ride home with us. We're not in any rush to leave, so whenever you're ready, let me know." Danny says, "You're awesome! Thanks," and he goes back to doing a haircut for the little guy in the barber chair.
Robby taps my arm, saying, "I'm gonna say hi to those guys on the bed," and he walks over to Danny's bed. Ha, the same shit happened the last time we were here. Baseball players were on Danny's bed last time too. They're different guys today but they're doing the same thing... either sitting or lying on the bed bullshitting and laughing at things that aren't funny... jock jokes. Well, last time the guys were playing liar's poker. Instead of that these guys are looking at and pointing at shit in an old Playboy magazine. Gee, I wonder what they're pointing at? How cornily typical of them. I could go over too except I don't want to. And, I even know two of the guys by name. It's simply that I don't feel like hearing the same old jock talk and the same old ball busting they always do.
No one is sitting at the desk so I sit in the desk chair and concentrate or not looking at Danny. Oh God, the sounds of the barber clippers buzzing gets my fetish buzzing and it's even stronger because Danny's the barber. It's not actually tormenting me, my fetish isn't. It's sexual sort of but, um, it's annoying too because no one else I know has it, and no one here has any idea I'm being affected like this, so it's just, um, as I said... annoying. And sexual and mysterious too... it's all of those things. If only I had some idea why I have this odd thing to deal with I'd probably feel better about it. Shit, mostly I like it... I guess. My dick feels good.
I try to focus on what I'm going to say to Danny about this haircut, except thinking about that has me squirming on the seat glancing casually around the room making sure I don't look at him. There are five guys ahead of Rob and me so I guess Rob's right, a lot of students left for home yesterday, or aren't going home but getting a haircut couldn't possibly be less of a priority.
Okay, so I glance at Danny and see he has a pleasant expression on his face 'cause he likes doing this. I understand that because I liked doing it too, except I wouldn't want to do what Danny's doing. He gives haircuts to anyone who wants one. I mean, assuming he isn't feuding with the guy and the guy isn't a complete asshole. See I couldn't do that. I mean, I could do it, but I wouldn't want to do it. For example, the guy in the barber chair right now has coarse hair and, I'm sorry but as small as he is, the guy looks like he's thirty-years-old. He probably isn't, but he looks like he is and I wouldn't enjoy cutting his hair... that's all.
Yeah, that's also the reason I'd never be a professional barber. Ya can't have a barbershop and tell someone... um, 'sorry sir but I don't cut old men's white hair, so please get the fuck outta my barbershop!' No, that wouldn't work. I'd only want to give haircuts to guys around my age and younger, but not a lot younger. I'm not gonna deal with toddlers or bratty seven-year-olds. I'd need to tell their mothers the same thing I told the old guy... get the fuck outta here! And even guys around my age or younger would need to be attractive in some way, plus I refuse to do 'trims' for long hairstyles. Those styles belong back in the seventies and eighties of the last fucking century... all of you, get the fuck outta here with that shit. Ya know, it wouldn't be profitable to have so many potential customers turned away like that.
Jeez, look at him... Danny's having fun unlike Golden Summers last year who I could tell early on, before Christmas last year, he was pissed off he ever started doing the baseball players haircuts. And that evolved into friends of the players getting free haircuts and then just about anyone. And Golden's haircutting reflected his disdain for doing it... his haircutting sucked! He couldn't make a success out of being a professional barber any more than I could, but for different reasons. Danny could though, except being a baseball coach is by far the first and foremost in his heart of hearts. He maybe could combine his haircutting hobby with coaching by giving his ballplayers haircuts. I'm gonna suggest that to him.
The little guy with coarse hair just left and a fairly nice looking thin guy is sitting in the barber chair, saying, "Um, Dan, I hate to mention this but Georgie asked me to ask you if you'll still be giving haircuts at three o'clock. He's gotta do something in Boston and probably won't be back until around three." Danny fastens the barber cape around the guy's neck, saying, "Oh yeah? Tell me something, Matt... who in the fuck is Georgie?' and he combs through Matt's hair. Matt says, "He's in the Rittenhouse Dormitory where you and I have met with him more than once or twice because Georgie has an unlimited amount of weed to sell." Danny goes, "Oh fuck, yeah, that Georgie! Uh huh, I bought some shit off him a few times, you're right. But, no, I won't be here at three o'clock." Matt says, "You wouldn't have that same answer if it was the beginning of the semester, would ya?" They both laugh and Danny goes, "Fuck no. I'd hang around till six o'clock if necessary. What good is Georgie gonna do me now though? We graduate in a few weeks and he lives in New York, right?"
Huh, fucking potheads! At least I don't have that problem to deal with and, anyway, there are like ten pot shops opening in Massachusetts and they're selling pot legally with more stores opening soon. Georgie would be outta business in this state. Dodger was planning on pot being legalized a year ago although he still hasn't got a license to open his shop.
The thin guy leaves and a minute later there's a knock on the door but no one comes in and then another knock. Danny looks over at me and nods at the door. I go, "Oh, sure," and get up to open the door. I immediately know I've met the little guy standing there, but can't recall his name or how I know him. I go, "Hey, how ya doing? C'mon in," He says, "Thanks, um," and he looks at Danny and makes a clearing-his-throat-sound to get Danny's attention. Danny looks over and says, "I see you, Paul. I saved your place so you'll be next for a haircut. Oh, and thanks for taking care of that for me." Paul nods and looks nervously around at the guys who, I assume came in after Paul left to do an errand and consequently they probably think they should be in front of him getting haircuts. Very few guys like watching a barber give haircuts.
I sit back down in the desk chair and Paul, acting very jittery, leans against the desk. I'm trying to remember how I know him. He makes a gulping sound swallowing and I glance at him seeing he's intently watching Danny cutting a redhead's hair. Without looking away from the haircut going on, Paul almost whispers as he says, "You're Dylan, right?" I mutter, "Correct, but how..." and he mutters, "Pony introduced us." I go, "Oh, yeah, at the Quad last year." He holds out his hand, his fingers shaking a little, as he's mumbling. "Yeah, Paul Matthews. Pony, um, well, we don't have the same dormitory or classes this year. I've only seen him two or three times this semester."
The way he holds his hand out I immediately know he wants to shake hands. Not too many guys do that, but I'll shake his hand. It's very damp and limp with Paul's still watching Danny cutting an average looking guy's red hair. We do a one shake hand-shake and when he lets go of my hand and makes a gasping sound that has nothing to do with that quick handshake. Now I remember something about this kid. The gasp is followed by a sharp inhale like he can't catch his breath and I ask, "Are you okay, Paul?" He looks at me now and nods, asking, "Is it okay if I hang out here until Danny's through with that guy's haircut?" I shrug, "Sure, why wouldn't it be okay?" I know why he likes this spot... it has an unobstructed view of the haircutting.
He mumbles, "Thanks and, um, I'm okay... something caught in my throat." Liar, liar pants on fire. Now I remember that I suspected this of Paul the other time I met him. I believe he's the only other guy I've ever met who has my disability known as a haircut fetish. I don't know this positively, but I recognize all the symptoms which only someone, in this case, me, would notice. There are many web sites dedicated to the haircut fetish so it's not surprising I finally noticed someone besides myself with it. Actually, the surprising part is that Paul's the first person I've run into who probably has the fetish.
Paul has a haircut like mine... hmm? Could it be that Danny practiced on giving Paul his crewcut before giving me one, or maybe it was the other way around? And Paul has blond hair like mine, mostly pale blond with some slightly darker blond, um, natural highlights is what they're called. Paul's short and skinny with a girlish bone structure and he's sort of cute in that goofy-cute way. I forget why I thought this kid had the fetish but that's obviously the reason I remember him. And now, from his jumpy behavior... finally a kindred spirit, not that I have any intentions of doing anything about it. He's too, ah, too fragile or something. I'm afraid I'd break something on the kid if I had any physical contact with him.
He glances at me and mumbles, "Are you getting a haircut?" I snort out a laugh because why else would I be here? Turning the snorted laugh into a fake cough, I say, "Um, no, I'm just sitting here to pass the time of day." He isn't into sarcasm I guess because he grins and whispers, "I like watching haircuts too. I like your haircut, it's just like mine except you should have had it cut a few weeks ago. Um, no offense." I give him a friendly grin, saying, "None taken." He appears to be a little emboldened now, maybe because I didn't tell him to fuck off with that shit, and he adds, "Just a suggestion but you really should get a haircut today. I mean, you're here anyway and haircuts like ours should be cut at the very least every three weeks." Jeez, he sounds like Danny when Danny's parroting what professional hairstylists say on their tutorial videos that he watches a shit-load of. They're correct too, by the way.
I say, "Yes, you're right, Paul. You like getting haircuts, do you?" His eyes dart to mine and then away as he mutters, "No, um, I mean they're okay. Haircuts are okay. I like looking neat which is why I said that thing about getting, um," and he clears his throat, "About you getting or, um, needing a haircut," and he gropes himself right in front of me. It must be an unconscious move and, hell, I have sympathy for his predicament and go, "So do I, Paul. I was just kidding with you a minute ago, Yes, I'm waiting to get a haircut." Even when he's standing still like he is now, he seems to be in motion somehow.
The redheaded guy in the barber chair gets up, saying, "The remuneration for this haircut will be delivered to you later by my business partner." Danny goes, "Christ, that's hilarious, Steve. Where do you come up with funny shit like that?" Steve says, "Yeah, well, thanks. In lieu of money, Monday, I'll give you a hitting lesson in the batting cage at practice next week." They bump fist as Danny deadpans, "You're a funny fucker, Steve. A batting lesson, huh?"
Paul stands straighter and quivers as the redhead leaves and Danny looks at Paul, and says, "You're up, Paul." He nods and walks over, his hands fidgeting together behind him like he's walking to a firing squad. Oh man, he's got it worse than me... times-ten. I feel better knowing there's someone worse off than me, no I don't, not really. Mostly I feel bad for him. With all the other shit to deal with in the world, he needs to deal with this too, and Paul doesn't appear up to the task.
And then, Omigod, can I believe what I just heard coming out of Danny's mouth? He just asked Paul, "What kind of haircut do you want?" Paul looks at Danny like he never heard Danny ask that before, I haven't either. Paul quietly says something I can't hear because the jocks on Danny's bed are all yucking it up... about something stupid probably. I hear Danny ask, "You sure you want it shorter?"
What the fuck? Is that someone impersonating Danny? Can I believe my ears that he's questioning 'shorter'? Paul whispers something else and Danny turns on the clippers. He's using bare clippers, no attachment, as he begins cutting hair off the side of the kid's head. I watch closely as Paul clenches his body. He's stiff as a statue as the buzzing clippers eliminate most of the hair halfway up the side of his head. Then Paul has his head so far forward his chin is against his chest as Danny's using the clippers on the back of his head.
Then, yeah, it just happened. Two minutes into the haircut I see the cape bounce ever so slightly on Paul's lap. His hips humped a tiny bit on their own as he climaxed. This kid has the haircut fetish wicked bad! His face flushes pink for a few seconds and then drains back to his normal pale coloring as his body relaxes. The jock buffoons that Robby joins right in with, are making too noisy for me to hear it, but I'll bet there was a quiet groan or moan when Paul dropped his load of spunk in his pants.
Holy shit! That's the first time I've ever witnessed that. I'm the only one here, besides Paul, who knows what happened. He has a much calmer demeanor now although he appears embarrassed too. No reason for that because no one knows what he did except me. Danny was totally oblivious. Thank God Paul didn't look over here because my expression might have given away that I KNOW what you just did! The poor kid's face would have turned more than pink probably. Again, I feel real compassion for him.
Yeah, I've cum in my pants getting a haircut too, but not as quickly as Paul just did. It happened to me a few times when Willie or Ryan took me for a haircut and I was feeling really submissive and they'd tell the barber how short to cut my hair. Ya know, as though I was their eight-year-old son or little brother maybe. That was a couple of years ago when I was much deeper into sub/dom relationships than I experience nowadays. Too bad, hahaha. No, that's in my past.
The rest of Paul's haircut goes without incident and he didn't even take ten minutes. Other than the scalped sides and back, the rest of the haircut is a regular crewcut. Paul apparently wanted a military cut with the bare clippers halfway up the sides. He looks fine as he stands from the barber chair. I check for telltale wet spots at the lap of his khakis but don't see any. He's almost definitely cum'ed in his pants before, during a haircut, maybe many times, so he probably takes precautions against telltale cum soaking through his pants by putting a washcloth or something in his jockey shorts.
He talks quietly for three seconds to Danny who says, "Sure, Paul and thanks again for dropping that paper off at Wright's office." Danny pats Paul's back and, as he's walking by me, Paul smiles looking much more relaxed. I stop him to say, "Nice haircut! Have you ever tried giving anyone a haircut yourself?" His eyes light up as he goes, "How'd you know? Yes, during the summer I cut my cousins' hair. I spend summers with my aunt and uncle in Colorado. Four of them... four cousins. They're preteens." I nod, "Are you any good?" He nods, "Yeah, I have a knack for haircutting but my parents want me to be an accountant like my dad." I say, "Be what you wanna be, Paul." He smiles, "Maybe I will," and he leaves. Oh man, that was something I never expected to see live and in person, as the saying goes.
The next guy is getting in the barber chair and Danny asks him, "What kind of haircut this time, Moses?" Holy shit! It wasn't just for that Paul kid. Danny's asking everyone. Oh sure, some guys will try telling Danny what kind of haircut they want but he's already started cutting their haircut by then. He'll usually do a facsimile of what the guy asked for, but mostly Danny just starts doing the haircut of whatever the guy's last haircut appeared to be, only Danny cuts it shorter. I wonder if he'll ask me? If he does, what should I say?
There's a knock at the door. The door is to the right of the desk about two feet away. One knock and then a guy comes in and he immediately goes over to the bed so he can slap hands and bump fists with Robby and the two remaining ballplayers who, by the way, are royally fucking up Danny's bed, but now there are only two guys ahead of us, and then I look closer and see the guy with black hair on the bed has already gotten a haircut. Huh, he's waiting for a friend then. Okay, so that means there's only one guy in front of us. Looking at my watch: balls, it's ten minutes of twelve already. Jeez, we got here later than I thought.
When the last guy ahead of us is in the barber chair, Robby comes over and leans his ass against the desk I'm sitting at and asks me, "How ya doing, Dylan? You're very quiet this morning." Looking at him, I say, "Yeah, I guess, um, did you hear Danny's asking what kind of haircut that guy wants." He shrugs, "No, but doesn't he always ask that?"
See that, Rob doesn't pay attention to the same shit I do. I go, "No, he never asks. What are you going to tell him when he asks you?" Rob gives me a funny 'look', asking, "Seriously?" and I go, "Yeah, whaddya gonna say?" He goes, "If he asks, I'll tell him I want the same haircut I've been getting for three or four months. What are you gonna say?" I go, "I don't know. You go first." Rob chuckles, pats my shoulder, and mumbles, "Okay, babe."
I'm probably the only person on earth who spends this much time thinking and worrying about a fucking haircut. There's another knock on the door. One knock and two guys come in as a short stocky guy says too loudly, "We're here, Monday, and we ain't paying a penny more than we paid last time for your shitty haircuts!" Danny says, "Shut the fuck up, Norm." Norm goes, "Just saying..." and he talks too loudly to someone named Smitty who's right next to him. Smitty says, "Shut the fuck up, Norm," and those two plus Danny and Robby all laugh as though that was the funniest thing they ever heard.
Norm's phone rings and he talks too loudly on that too, and then say to, um, all of us I guess, "Shit, I gotta move my car," no one says anything to that and he adds, "Monday, save my place in line," and he heads for the door as Danny says in a conversational voice, "No. I don't do that. No saving places," although he saved Paul's place in line. It's not my problem though so I keep my mouth shut. Norm goes, "No, seriously, I'll be right back." I look at Robby, who's snickering and making a 'face' at Smitty, who's snickering back at Robby. What the fuck?
Norm leaves and I ask, "Rob, why was that funny?" He goes, "Oh, ya gotta know Summerville." I frown and he says, "Norm's last name is Summerville. He's a total fuck up but he's consistent." Christ on a crutch! See there's something I've known for years, and it's that I couldn't be on an organized sports team like Rob's been on all his life. I don't 'get' the charm of loudmouth jocks who think they're funny when they're not, and it's well known that bullies are prevalent on sports teams. And I hate bullies.
Robby sits up on Danny's desktop and we talk about having only three weeks of college left. Well, three and a half... we graduate on a Wednesday. Rob's cocky about our chances of getting 90's and higher on our three elective courses this semester. I've gotta agree although it's me who says, "Let's not take anything for granted. Remember the professor who said these grades count just as much as any other on our final GPA." He pats my shoulder and says, "You're right," and then the last guy getting a haircut before us gets up from the barber chair. I say, "You go first Robby, I'm still deciding what to tell Danny." Robby grins and says, "That's if he asks you." Smart ass!
Danny and Rob do a bro-hug and then Rob doesn't give Danny a chance to ask him what kind of haircut he wants. Sitting in the chair, Rob goes, "Same as last time, Danny," and then they talk about the game the team won in the eleventh inning. Near the end of that conversation, Norm comes back in and yells, "I'm back!" No one says anything so he goes over to talk with the guy he came in with, Smitty, who is now lying totally on Danny's bed with his head on the pillow, and he's wearing winter boots. Some people, ya know?
When Danny finishes with Rob's haircut I'm thinking... Robby looks so hot I want to have sex with him right now. I get turned on seeing Rob with a fresh short haircut. Oh man, how sexy-cute that fucking preppy pompadour looks on him too. Nice haircut! Hey, that's what we should do... have sex when we get back to the apartment. I'm aroused and not just by Robby, but because I'm about to get my hair cut and as I've said a few time... for me it's sexual... for me and Paul it's sexual.
Robby, not feeling anything one way or another from his haircut, mumbles, "I need to run down to the ballpark, Dylan. If I'm not back by the time Danny finishes your haircut meet me at the pickup truck, okay?" I nod as Rob says to Danny, "Thanks, Danny! Text us when you're ready to leave for home." Danny gives Rob's a 'thumb up' as he says to me, "I believe you're next, young man." I'm still sitting at the desk.
Rob goes out the door, and as I stand up Norm yells, "Oh, no ya don't!" Then he adds way too loudly, "No, ya don't, kid. Stay right where you are! Freshman dinks like you go last," and he starts walking toward Danny, who looks exasperated saying, "Goddammit! Sit the fuck back down, Summerville. You're making a dufus ass of yourself as usual. He's a senior and even if he weren't, he's one of my two best friends along with Rob." Norm goes, "You're shitting me! He's a senior... okay, my bad," and to me, he says, "Sorry dude, I didn't know you were joined at the hip with Dickers and Danny." This dolt thinking he's funny is embarrassingly pathetic. I ignore him.
Danny's grinning at me as he's vigorously shaking out the cape, saying, "I don't want anyone else's hair clippings annoying you, Dylan." I'm like, "Well actually, I'd prefer if you'd use a fresh cape." He snickers and goes, "I wish I had one just for you." I sit down feeling a tingling sensation in my balls as I'm already under Danny's magical spell, AND I'm feeling those nervous/scary sexy sensations running wild around my nuts from my fetish acting up.
After putting the cape around me, Danny squeezes my shoulders, asking, 'What kind of haircut do you want?" I'm like, "Seriously?" He goes, "Yep, seriously. This close to graduation you should look however you want. I can imagine your picture at graduation with the awesome haircut I'll do for you, plus your fabulously irresistible smile. The picture will be on your mantel for the rest of your life. So what's your wish?" and he does a quick squeeze at the back of my neck giving me so many chills I hunch my shoulders. Omigod, I wish those other guys weren't here.
And then one of them, not the loud mouth, Norm, the other one, Smitty, says, "Christ, Monday, why don't you marry him on your own time." Danny grins as he hugs around my neck and kisses the top of my head, saying, "Maybe I will, dickweed. Are you jealous 'cause you're stuck with that oaf, Summerville?" Dickweed says, "I'm not stuck with him! I've got a girlfriend!" Danny, still hugging my neck, goes, "And who's better looking, your girlfriend or Dylan?" Norm yells, "He's got you there, dickweed!" All three of them laugh as Danny lets go of me. My dick isn't a weed... it's already a steel pipe, that's thankfully hidden under the cape. Smitty mumbles, "Maybe so, but does that guy got a pussy?"
Danny says, "We're finished that round of jerking each other off, Smitty. Chill out," and he runs the comb through my hair, saying to Norm, "And while I'm at it, is there any chance you could turn off the megaphone when you speak?" Norm goes, "Fuck you, Monday. I speak clearly so people can hear the words of wisdom I have to offer, and also so the hard of hearing don't need to say... huh?" and he laughs out loud for the fifteenth time in the last half hour. Christ!
Danny ignores Norm and he leans down to me, and asks, "What kind of haircut did you say you wanted?" and before I can answer he looks over at the two guys on his bed and says, "Are you two numbnuts planning on running my bedding through the washing machine." Smitty goes, "Hey, I wiped my boots on that little throw rug next to the bed before I got on this too-soft bed."
Oh man, those jocks are ruining this for me, and then, oh no! Three new guys come in and Norm yells, "The rigor mortis triplets!" and they're all laughing now with Smitty getting off the bed to do bro-hugs with the three guys as they all say dumb shit at the same time.
Ignoring the commotion, Danny says, "Your hair really grew out, Dylan. I can give you the same haircut Rob just got. Does that sound good?" Danny's being so nice! If those five oafs weren't here Danny would do the best 'almost' lover's sex with me after my haircut... it'd be epic! That's not happening though, so I asked Danny the same thing guys always asked me when I was giving haircuts back in the day, "Um, Danny, what kind of haircut do you think I should get?" He combs my hair back and says, "Well, fuck, you could let your hair grow out? I'll just trim around the ears?" I shake my head again, mumbling, "I tried that the beginning of last summer, remember?" He goes, "Well, there's..." and one of the rigor mortis triplets says, "For Christ sake, Monday, can you and your girlfriend discuss hairdos at a pajama party sometime? We'd like to get on with our fucking lives here."
A red coloring blossoms brightly on Danny face as he drops the comb in my lap and abruptly goes over and grabs the front of the guy's shirt. The guy was sitting at the foot of the bed but Danny yanks him off, snarling, "Get out! Get outta here before I punch your teeth down your throat." The guy looks shocked for a second and then starts grabbing at Danny and there's pushing and shoving. I hear something rip and see the guy's shirt pocket dangling from Danny's fist as both guys pull one another onto the floor.
The other guys jump up and pull them apart. They stand up, both red in the face and breathing hard with Danny screaming, "Get the fuck out of my room Turner!" Turner, who's a handsome guy even with one of those short fashion beards, which usually I hate but it looks good on him. He says, "Stick your haircut up your ass, Monday," and they both swing fist missing each other as the peacemakers walk Turner a couple of steps toward the door. He looks at Smitty, who's got his hand on Turner's arm, and snarled, "Get your fucking hands off me, faggot!"
Everybody lets go of everybody and Turner leaves slamming the door behind him. It's silent for a second and then Danny says, "Anybody else mind if I discuss my girlfriend's hairdo now instead of at our next pajama party?" Norm doesn't yell, when he says sheepishly, "Can Smitty and me come to the pajama party?" Smitty snorts out a laugh and one of the rigor mortis triplets adds, "Yeah, when is it?" Danny lightens up mumbling, "We'll send out invitations," and everyone relaxes with Danny adding, "For fuck sake, I'm just goofing with my bud here, okay?"
I haven't moved out of the barber chair. It all happened so fast and unexpected, plus I've got this cape around me. Danny goes on with kind of an explanation, saying to the guys, "Fuck, I've given like two hundred damn good free haircuts for my teammates AND their friends. And then I gotta put up with shit like that from a fucking loser like Dwayne-fucking-Turner?" Those guys mumble, "No, no problem. No way, Danny, jeez..." Norm goes, "Hey, Danny, we're good," and to the other guys, he's like, "We're good right? Fuck Dwayne!" Smitty turns and says to the two remaining rigor mortis guys, "Why the fuck did you bring him with you anyway?" They shrug, and then throw Dwayne under the bus, muttering, "That fuckhead," and then there's some snickering and one of them says, "Take all the time ya need with your bud... we're good, right guys?"
Danny chuckles as he walks the four steps to me and, as I hand him the comb, he mumbles, "Sorry about that." I go, "Um, no problem." I want to simplify matters and move on because I can tell Danny's dealing with the after-effects of the adrenaline rush, although he's trying not to show it. He takes quiet deep breaths, nodding his head and then saying, "Yeah, okay. Um, damn, that pissed me off... Jesus!"
As he's rubbing his face with both hands, almost poking his eye out with the comb, I say, "I liked the crewcut haircut. The one before the last one." He nods his head while straightening his sweatshirt that got pulled halfway around the back. I add, "Remember the haircut, the crewcut but you left the bangs longer?" He squeezes my shoulder and brightens up, saying, "Really? Ya liked that, huh?" I nod, "Uh huh," and Danny puts an attachment on the clippers saying, "Okay, as you wish, young man."
Because it's been like five weeks since my last haircut there's a lot of hair falling onto the lap of the barber cape which normally gets my dick buzzing but not today. Then Danny barely evens-off the bangs and only so they'll appear part of a fresh haircut. This leaves the bangs twice as long as the rest of the hair on top of my head. Danny uses some hair gel before combing the front hairs over to the side a little. Leaning close to my head, he whispers, "You look adorable, baby."
As he's unsnapping the cape at the back, he's like, 'Who's next." Smitty gets up saying, "Me, Danny," and nodding at me, he mumbles, "Um, but I don't want that haircut." Danny chuckles, "Don't get your little dick twisted, Smitty. I'll give you whatever haircut you want."
My haircut took only about twelve minutes and there was no excited fetish activity probably because of the fight and the constant chatter and as weird as it sounds, Danny was being so nice about offering haircut choices greatly reduced the 'fetish effect'. My fetish mostly flares up when Danny ignores what I want and does what he wants. And, I settled for this crewcut again because I couldn't think of any other hairstyle fast enough and because it was getting awkward with Danny being so solicitous to me. The guys were listening and while Danny didn't care, I felt awkward.
Anyway, Smitty is standing next to the barber chair as I'm getting up telling Danny thanks. Then Norm brushes by us to get in the barber chair first, saying, "Sorry, Smitty, I gotta meet this babe for lunch. And, no, I'm not being an asshole..." Danny goes, "Yeah, you are, but you two decide who's next." To me, he goes, "I'll text you about leaving for home." I'm like, "Sure, and thanks again."
Outside the dorm room, I'm trying to think if I ever got a haircut that was less sexily arousing than the one I just got. Hey, maybe this is what it feels like being normal getting a haircut. Ya know, normal with no fetish. Huh, I think I prefer dealing with the fetish otherwise it's kind of boring. Yeah, with the fetish it's one more way to get a boner, not that I came close to getting one after the balloon went up with that fight Danny had. Funny, that I'd be disappointed the one time Danny tried doing a haircut that I asked for...
Walking outside, I'm feeling my shortish hair on the back of my head which does give me a quick little sexy thrill-buzz in my balls, so that's nice! That's the extent of my fetish activity though. Yeah, damn, a weird experience. Two weird experiences, a haircut without fetish reaction and witnessing that kid Paul's fetish reaction.
Well, I'm at the pickup but there's no sign of Rob, so I light a cigarette thinking back at the way Danny snapped out at that guy. Jeez, I never saw him come close to blowing-up like that before. It reminded me a little of Robby losing 'it' a couple of times when someone was fucking with me. I wonder if Danny thought he was sticking up for me... or himself?
And those 'girlfriend' and faggot references from those guys, they weren't homophobic references. That was normal guy bullshit. They don't know Danny's gay or me either for that matter. I don't know them so how would they know, not that I give a shit. The truth is, Danny lets guys get away with way too much shit in that dorm room while they're waiting for a haircut. Some cretin was bound to take the ball-busting too far which is what that guy Turner did... and Danny went nuclear on his ass.
Ooh, here comes Rob now... and don't he look good! Jeez, he's so good looking! And I like his little swagger when he walks too. That's another jock thing, one of the few I actually like.
Rob gives me a smirking smile and says, "Hey, you look good, Dylan! I like your haircut." I mumble, "You look good too and I was thinking we might..." He interrupts to say, "I was thinking the same thing." I go, "Good," and Rob puts his arm across my shoulders, asking, "Did it look like Danny was gonna be busy for a while?" I go, "Yep, there were some guys still waiting for haircuts when I left." Meaning we've got plenty of time for our second sex go-round on this Saturday before Easter.
During the short ride to the apartment, I tell Robby about Danny snapping out at that guy. Robby goes, "Really? That's rare for Danny although he and I had a couple of fights when we were kids. Who did you say the guy was?" I'm like, "I forget his first name, but his last name is Turner. A nice looking guy with a fashionable short beard." Rob shakes his head, mumbling, "I don't think I know him," and he parks the pickup at a good spot, one row from the front door.
Going inside we meet Tom Brooker coming out. We bump fist as Robby goes, "Hey, what's up, Tom?" He says, "Not much. I'm on my way to see if Danny's still doing haircuts and then I'll try to find where my parents live. I'm still not sure I know the way... haha, stupid huh?" I'm like, "Didn't ya ever hear about the new invention called a GPS? It's only been around for thirty years, so maybe..." Tom laughs and gives me a one-arm hug, saying, "Gee, maybe I need to check that shit out, Dylan. Thanks for the tip," and he goes on his way chuckling. I've never known anyone as smiling and happy, and I mean all the fucking time, like that guy right there.
Going upstairs, Rob goes, "You were kinda rude to him, babe." I go, "Yeah? Maybe I'm catching the rudeness bug from you. Ya know, the way you talk back to your mom." He's like, "That's not rudeness! That's how we communicate. She enjoys an honest response to things she says... things she knows get on my nerves." I mutter, "That's just so wrong, Rob. She's your mom," and he goes, "Oh, yeah, ya think so, cutie?" and he messes up my combed-over bangs. I push his hand away saying, "Hey, don't do that!" and he goes, "What's this glop on my hand?" I mumble, "Danny put a little gel in my hair so I can train it to lay over to the side."
Inside the apartment, Robby says, "I might get that haircut next time. It really looks good on you," and I'm like, "That's because you're used to seeing me with short hair." Robby kicks the door shut behind him, and gets his arms around my waist pulling my back against his chest, murmuring, "You look sexy and boyish with short hair, but then you looked sexy with that long hair you had the beginning of last summer too, and I'm beginning to think you'd look sexy without hair." I go, "God forbid. Don't jinx me. Did you see the poor twenty-year-old guy at the Quad who is bald on top? He had a full head of hair last fucking year. He was in a class with us last year, remember?" Robby goes, "No," and he kisses the side of my face and then says, "Let's get naked and make love in bed." I'm like, "Okay," and Robby walks us sideways down the short hall keeping his arms around my waist as he snuggles his face against the side of my neck, murmuring, "I love the way you smell." I'm like, "You haven't mentioned that since, um, yesterday I think it was."
Well, hell, I was turned on by my Robby's short haircut and now that he's acting aggressively amorous too. I'm groveling in sexual arousal. Getting sexually aroused activates the preoptic area of my brain's hypothalamus that's always ready at a moment's notice to function in high gear. Robby being aggressive merely increases the heat level and with my hair-trigger erection button, not to mention the autopilot testosterone receptor cells of my spinal cord, brain, balls, and penis I almost immediately get a hard stretched erection in my pants. It's almost too hard and too stretched as I gasp and then murmur, 'Ooooh, yeah... fuck me," as I'm leaning back against him, the back of my head against his shoulder, his arms tightly hugging around my waist.
I feel his hard fat cock bulging out the front of his jeans, as he murmurs, "Jesus... I love when you get all hot and bothered like this. Oh fuck yeah, mmmm." His left-hand drops to my crotch and he presses his hand against the swelling in my pants. We take stumbling sideway steps into the bedroom, Robby licking and kissing my neck with his five o'clock shadow, such as it is, scratching sexually on the underside of my jaw with each sideward step. Oh fuck, this is happening so fabulously fast I can't catch my breath...
His hand moves off my hard cock and then his fingers release the button on my skinny jeans as my hands go back to squeeze Rob's butt cheeks. I whimper with sexual desire that's now swarming all over my brain. Rob humps his hard cock against my ass a few times. The buttons magically get unfastened on my jeans and Rob pulls my pants down below my nuts and then my underpants. My rock-hard boner pops straight out the millisecond it was released from my imprisoning jockey shorts. I'm feeling hot moist breaths from Robby on my neck and hearing a few quiet lustful moans, both things increase my arousal. His right-hand fumbles at his zipper now, his left arm still around me with his hand gripping and then stroking my hard cock. I'm leaning back against him, moaning, "Ummm, oooh, Robby..."
His head moves, his nose dragging up and across my right ear and then bumping the back of my head as I feel a line of pre-cum from the head of his boner dragging across my butt cheek before hitting my asshole. A gasping exhale from Robby, his hot breath coming around both sides of my head now and then, "Ahhhh, ooow!" as his unlubricated boner's swollen head squeezes past my sphincter to throb inside my rectum stretching my anus impossibly wide. The pain roars and soars from my violated asshole and, even as I squeal with pain my boner throbs and I rejoice at this almost spiritual experience.
A hard thrust from Rob's hips sends pain streaking from the nerve endings in my rectum! He's moving his face against the back of my head doing his quiet mantra of, 'Sorry, sorry, sorry." He's sorry it hurts me although not sorry enough to stop. Another hard thrust and I arch my back groaning. His one arm is unable to keep me tight against his chest so he lets go of my boner and uses both arms around me to pull me back against him. One last thrust and we're docked tightly, his crotch pushing against my buttocks so hard it lifts my heels off the floor, his very fat and very hard cock inside me as far as it can go and I feel it throbbing triumphantly against the tight walls of my rectum.
Red pain balloons pop in my head even as the pain begins to retreat. The pain from nerve endings soon is overwhelmed by the insistence of the pleasure nerve endings swarming onto the scene and mindlessly making sense of the chaos. By the millions, the bad nerve endings surrender to pleasure ones and the clenched muscles of my body begin tentatively to relax as the outcome of the battle of pleasure over pain becomes more and more obvious. I sigh and then moan with pleasure and now I feel very well taken care of by my man, who murmurs, "I love you so much, Dylan. I, um, I'm sorry for losing my cool and forcing myself inside you, but I couldn't stop, I, um... couldn't stop..."
It feels fantastic, breathing normally now that the pain has been so completely defeated and my whole body now seems to be pulsating with shivering spasms of pure pleasure. The sense of being so totally conquered, dominated, and filled-up back there gives me goosebumps and makes me shudder with the thrill of it all. The pain actually heightens the pleasure allowing it to reach levels that seemed ridiculously impossible a minute ago. I'm smiling and only now feeling the wetness of Robby's rather prodigious amounts of pre-cum, the pre-cum that got scraped off by the lips of my anus in its futile battle to prevent that fat sex organ entrance. The scraped-off wetness drools down under me to the back of my scrotum.
I'm dizzy with pleasure as I quietly murmur, almost a whisper because I'm floating with contentment, "That was perfection, Robby. This feels too good to be believed." A quiet gasp from Robby as he murmurs again, "Sorry," and I'm like, "No, don't be. I love you and I loved how you did everything, and... ummm, your body feels good..." Yes, that's how quickly I forget the pain...
His arms are only loosely around me now that he's established himself as dominant... he knows I'm not going anywhere. I've submissively submitted which is Nature's evolutionary way of minimizing conflict of more serious consequences. Dominance is not a myth. Highly social animals, including humans, establish relationships of either dominant or submissive. Some are life or death conflicts but much more often they're minor such as the short struggle Rob and his cock had getting the upper hand over my rectum and me. That's dominance whether he thinks of it in this way or not, and mostly he doesn't. Still, it has to be satisfying to accomplish what he set out to do. It's human nature. I mean, his fat hard boner is where he wanted it, plus his lover-boy is now submissively cooing with contentment awaiting whatever Rob and his cock want to do next. Good for him, but I wouldn't trade my feeling of submissiveness for anything. It's hard to articulate exactly why that is, maybe impossible to put into words, but so what? I know Robby is who I want dominating me in this manner forever. No one else can do it for me the way Robby can.
He's being magnanimous in victory allowing my rectum, my whole body and mind time to recover from the abrupt intrusion of his extra fat cock. Some dominant 'tops' aren't considerate, and there's no reason they need to be, but Robby almost always is. His hips do little gentle humps against my buttocks which, ever so slightly, moves his conquering cock and thereby reminding any last doubting parts of my rectum who's in charge.
I'm feeling so good now I can't help but squirm back against Robby and his hard fat cock. He humps his hips and I go, "Ooh, mmm." He murmurs, "Feels good, huh, baby?' and then he puts his fingers under my chin lifting my head and I immediately strain my head as hard as I can to the side trying to get my lips touching his. The sides of our mouths touch and we do as much of a kiss as we can manage. Then Robby asks again, "Feeling good now, babe?" I nod my head, murmuring, "Yes, this feels better than anything," and his facial muscles move against my cheek forming a grin I can't see. He murmurs, "Good. Nothing has ever felt better than this for me, I know that..." and another teasing hump against my buttock, his big boner moving slightly making me go, "Ahhh."
Satisfied he has everything under control Robby pulls his cock back giving me shivers of pleasure as electrified nerve endings from my anus and prostate make me shudder with pleasure as an involuntary moan, "Ummmm," slips from me. He murmurs, "Okay then, here we go, sweetheart," and he starts thrusting steadily, but not especially fast. My hands are still back with my fingers grabbing his buttocks as I try remaining stationary for my dominant 'top'.
Robby gets into steady thrusting and soon it's almost like we're one organism, his fat boner moving back and forth, in and out as though it's meant to be there. Steady semi-fast thrusting like this allows for a longer experience of pure sexual pleasure. I recommend it although eventually, in this case about the five-minute mark, my world of sexual pleasure gives way to the demands of nature in the form of an impending orgasm. There are early signals that it's happening and then it catches hold and now there's no turning back. There's only the desperate imperative to satisfy the gene, a million years in the making, that insists on ejaculating life producing sperm. There's simply no choice in the matter, not that anyone would have it any other way because the orgasmic climax is the gift for the living that's also self-perpetuating in many instances, although not this one.
I know Rob's climax button just got punched because I hear the changing sounds coming from him. They're more desperate now and so is his thrusting and the resulting sounds of males fucking now become louder and louder the closer to that supernova of pleasure gets. Loud "Slap, slap, slap," sounds join Rob's grunts, "Um, um, um," and both sounds speed up as the rush to orgasm is on and can't be stopped. The faster thrusting and desperate sounds coming from Robby get my climax building faster now too and it's almost scary but also the most thrilling experience I know... scary and thrilling and impossible to resist. "Slapslapslap," and it's going to happen! Omigod... two seconds and that one last thrust... and then, "Eeeeeiiii!" my climax bursts on the scene with jism pumping up and out of my granite boner in a long stream causing excruciatingly deep pleasure that the mind can't even begin to comprehend. It's like nature thought 'well fuck it' why not make it a hundred times more intense and pleasurable than it even needs to be to get these animals wanting to experience it again... and again... and again, ya know?
Standing still in front of that amazing fat boner that's attached to my amazing lover, I'm shuddering with pleasure that almost blanks-out my mind for a few seconds and then the explosion of pleasure too quickly reduces to comprehensible levels that are still just barely understandable but marvelous like nothing else in the world is marvelous. Sensations blossom like a spreading firework display and fade like firework's fade and I'm weak but feeling contented and special and alive!
Waves of pleasure for a few brief moments and then I'm limp. I return to the normal reality I live most of my existence in, except for these brief moments where I experience the stars. Sure, but it ain't so bad back here on earth either. It takes a few seconds to get fully back, or at least back enough to recognize the sloppy feeling inside me as Robby's doing some lazy thrusts. He stops all thrusting now and drops his chin to rest it on my shoulder and then murmurs, "Unbelievably perfect climax, babe. Oh, man, that felt good... really, really good!"
We wait as our bodies recalibrate our breathing and heart rate to something like normal levels before Robby steps back pulling his cock from my body leaving my asshole wide open. Air rushes up there feeling like air conditioning, the temperature inside my rectum quickly going from 98.6 to 72 degrees or so it seems. I go, "Oooh, ummm."
Robby catches cum drooling out of my ass using a handful of tissues and then pulls my pants and underpants down to my feet, saying, "C'mon, let's do what we were gonna do. We'll get naked and get in bed... I need more loving from you, okay?" I nod my head and bend over to take my sneakers off, mumbling, "Would you wipe my ass for me again, daddy?" and we both snort out a laugh. Rob smacks my ass, "SMACK!" and then, as he pulls his pants down, he snickers and says, "Yeah, I'll get a washcloth."
We both finish getting undressed and, as I'm pulling the covers back on 'my' side of the bed I feel a warm washcloth rubbing my ass. I stand still and let him clean my ass, mumbling, "That feels nice." Robby asks, "Have you ever seen your ass after I'm done with it, boy?" In a squeaky voice, I go, "Yes, mister, it's wicked wide open, huh?" He goes, "Yep, a half a dozen of your little dicks would fit up there." We chuckle and then I get in bed. Rob says, "Christ, I was so horny for you, Dylan. It hit me like, um, I don't know what. It was awesome though." I'm like, "Feel free to do that any time you want."
He gets in bed, saying, "Could you move over, babe? I wanna lie on your side of the bed 'cause it smells sexy." I slide over, saying, "Yeah, I know. I smell good, I smell sexy." He goes, "Well, yeah, you do!" I smell the back of my wrist and then say, "I can hardly get enough of it myself," and he laughs as he rolls up on his side, mumbling, "I'm not done with you yet, ya know?" I nod, "Yeah, you told me that already, mister. But I want a Snickers bar this time when you put your pee-pee in my bum." Robby snickers at that.
We goof around talking shit like that for a while, laughing and then we make fun of our trip to Fort Myers pretending it was better than Wildwood. Rob says, "I liked that they use a regular street and call it a boardwalk. It's much better than Wildwood's boardwalk." I go, "Christ yeah! There aren't any cars on Wildwoods' boardwalk and it was fun trying to cross the street-boardwalk in Fort Myers to get to that Macy's Department store." Rob goes, "No Macy's Department store on that inferior wood boardwalk, that's for sure," and I go, "And how about the traffic cops on Fort Myers' boardwalk?"
As we're goofing off and acting silly we're rubbing our hands on each other and I know in my heart that Robby wouldn't want to be with anyone else... just me, and that's such a special bit of knowledge. I feel the same way about him, and he knows that too.
I love looking at him up-close like this too. Lying in bed together is pretty much the only time I get to stare at Robby this closely seeing his smile and the way his eyes shine when he laughs. He's so good looking which is the icing on the cake 'cause when you're in love, you love looking at your lover no matter what he looks like. Rob has a very nice nose... oh, fuck, he has very nice everything which is why he's awesomely handsome, and still kinda cute too.
Our joking around and touching eventually leads to our lips brushing together and then a kiss and then a long kiss, and a longer one with a slight moan of arousal now, and then I'm up on my side with Robby behind me pushing Astroglide up my ass and then he's pushing his hard cock up there too and there's fast hard thrusting creating the familiar sounds of two young men fucking. It's the slapping sound of Rob's body smacking against my buttocks as I grovel in the beauty and crudeness and intense pleasure of making love with the one person on earth I most want to do this with. "Slapslapslap," and, "Umm, umm, umm, ooh, Rob, mmm," and hard thrusting with his arm over my side. My cock is soon pointing straight out again and it's as hard as hard can get and then my muscles clench and I squeal with cum shooting from my cock and hitting the covers a foot away with a "Bluff" sound, and then again as my body shakes a little. Robby's making noisy breathing sounds humping against my butt cheeks filling me up again with his sperm that quickly gives up trying to find an egg to fertilize. It shrugs and simply expires to then drool out my ass in a much less creamy manner than when it was full of piss and vinegar going up my ass.
We flop on our backs breathing hard for a few seconds. Oh, I'm slightly dizzy and then I turn my head and see Robby smugly grinning at me. I grin too because we're us. I go, "That was another pretty good fuck, boyfriend." He nods, "Yeah, it was." We hug and then just lie together not talking for a while. There's great joy in sex, but fucking takes a lot of energy too. Finally, I'm like, "I've got itchy hair clippings on me." Robby sighs and says, "Concentrate on feeling good, Dylan. We just had really good sex. Fuck the hair clippings." I go, "We did but now these fucking itchy little hairs..." He chuckles, rubs my head, and then gets out of the bed, saying, "Ya wanna take a shower with me?" I go, "Yeah, okay," and that's what we do.
It's after two o'clock by the time we're dressed and, I don't know, but I can't recall ever feeling better than I do right now. Robby mutters, "Christ, I'm starving." I ask, "Did Danny give you any indication when he'd be done with the haircuts?" Rob shakes his head, "No. Do you wanna drive over there and see if he's interested in having lunch with us?" Shrugging, I'm like, "Why not just text?" Rob goes, "Because if he's still doing haircuts he either won't see the text or probably wouldn't stop to respond even if he did see it, so we wouldn't know any more than we do now." I go, "We'd know something if he texted back," and Robby says, "Who's the fucking boss here?" I shrug and go, "Is it you?" He snickers and says, "You're Goddamn right it's me. Get your jacket on." Oh boy! We put on our matching jackets and walk outside.
Getting in the pickup, Rob says, "You know what I'm thinking right now?" I shrug and he goes, "I'm thinking I can hardly wait to fuck you in our bed at home." I'm like, "Seriously, you need to seek professional help, Robert. Your libido is out of whack. If you think I'm marrying a sex maniac you've got another think coming." Starting the engine, he says, "Be that as it may, I'm going fuck your brains out in our bed at home." I go, "Oh, that'll be okay, I suppose."
Without a courtesy knock, Rob tries Danny's door but it's locked. A guy talking to a girl a few doors down, says, "Hey, guys, Monday's finished doing haircut today... ya gotta get here a lot earlier." Is this helpful but clueless dude blind? Can't he see neither of us needs a haircut! Rob goes, "Did you see him leave?" and just then Danny's door opens. He steps out grinning and mumbling, "I thought I heard you boys," and the guy talking to the girl down the hall, says, "No, I didn't see him leave." Rob chuckles and says to the guy, "Thanks, that's very helpful."
I'm looking at Danny with the same feelings for him I had earlier today. Yes, I just had two truly memorable sex acts with Robby, I know that better than anyone, but yet I've still got this major 'thing' for Danny. It's totally different from my love affair with Robby. And, no, I can't describe how it's different, but it is!
Danny rubs my shoulder and winks at me. Damn, he's cool! I grin stupidly back at him and he gives the back of my neck a little squeeze, mumbling, "Great haircut, dude. Who's your barber?" Like earlier, I get shivers from his hand on the back of my neck. He takes his hand away and I bump against him acting like a twelve-year-old girl ogling Justin Bieber, um, when Justin was a teen. My face blushes as Rob, unaware of my condition, pats Danny's back, asking, "Ya wanna grab some lunch before we head for home?" Danny says, "Great idea." As we're walking out of the dormitory I'm chastising myself, screaming at myself in my head to stop this shit with Danny! Get a fucking grip on yourself!
At the pickup, I'm like, "You can sit in the front Danny," but he'd already opened the passenger door so he was getting in the front anyway. I get in the back and lean over the back of the passenger seat to say, "Do you want me to do your haircut when we get home, Danny?" He runs his fingers through his hair, saying, "Oh, fuck. I should have thought about that before we left. Shit, um, can we stop in my room after lunch, Rob? I really do need to get my hair cut and Dylan likes to do it so much I'd hate to disappoint him. Huh, Dylan?" Sitting back now, I go, "I was offering to help you out. Fuck, don't do me any favors! Be my guest and go to that hack barber Rob went to that time in Framingham."
Danny ignores all that and goes, "Whaddaya say, Rob?" Robby goes, "We'll stop back for your barber shit after lunch but Dylan can do your haircut at home, okay?" As if I'm not here. Danny mutters, "That's a better plan."
Oh yeah, doing his haircut at home is better because we'll be alone in Danny's garage. Now I'm staring at Danny longish brown hair that's almost curly, or is it just waving? Yeah, when it grows out like this it's wavy, not curly. Fuck, it's been more than six weeks since the thrill of giving him a haircut. And, Jesus, I actually need to tell myself... don't fucking touch his hair now, you dork! I have this strong urge to do that. I mean, his head is right there!
They're talking baseball but when there's a break, I lean forward and ask, "Did you just have a shower, Danny. Your hair looks damp." He turns his head and says, "Yeah, ten minutes before you guys got here I was in the shower. You're so observant, Dylan. Isn't Dylan observant, Rob?" Rob goes, "Yes, he's very observant." I go, "Both of you, blow me!"
A minute later Danny turns in his seat to look at me again, asking, "Were you worried my hair would be dirty for the haircut?" I go, "No. Your hair looks damp, that's all. Um, I just... ah, oh...nothing." Dammit, I lose my fucking mind around him.
Rob curses at a driver who swerves almost in our lane as Danny says, "Oh, listen to this, Rob. I was at the ballpark and Coach Davis..." I tune that shit out. Don't they ever get tired talking about the same things? Damn, I'm all jittery thinking about doing Danny's haircut. What a day this is turning out to be. It's actually turning out to be pretty fucking good!
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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