When I heard the Moms change the subject from their weekend with their new boyfriends to what's for dinner tonight, I took a deep breath and got ready to show them my absurd haircut. You know, get it over with. I stepped out on the deck and quietly said, "Don't freak out, okay?" Both Moms muttered, "Dylan?" and turned around to look at me. Tris blurted out laughing and said, "How was boot camp, Honey." My Mom mumbles, "Our youngest Marine! How did that happen?" They don't make big deals out of things that aren't big deals. I'd forgotten that. If something's a big deal, they make a big deal out of it, like Chubby in the hospital.
I told them about how my friend, Willie, wanted an authentic flattop, and when I saw how bad it was and how horrified he was, I felt compassion for him, so I supported him by getting the same haircut." I can lie so easily that I scare myself. "He's kooky about hairstyles, and I got caught up in the disaster." What I expected would be an awkward situation turned out to be a funny one. They both felt my head and couldn't believe guys actually wore their hair this short on purpose. And that was it.
Chubby's bus was coming in at seven o'clock and we all knew Chubby would prefer if just his Mom picked him up. If my Mom and I went along too, it just makes Chubby uncomfortable with us making a fuss over him. We'll stay here and get the dinner ready. God, I was so anxious to see him again. It made my stomach kind of nervous, a weird feeling. He won't be happy about my hair but won't make any bigger a deal of it than the moms. I had to take a deep breath, though. This haircut is embarrassing, but it's worth some humiliation and embarrassment to have a boyfriend like Willie. Yeah, I think I love him.
When Tris left in the station wagon to get Chubby, I started shucking corn while Mom made a meatloaf. We talked easily, and she even told me about having the boyfriends over here for a party. I got the distinct impression the guys did not stay overnight because our bedroom was in the exact shape we left it in, right down to my dirty underwear on the bed. It made me feel good they hadn't slept overnight, but, of course, it doesn't mean some hanky-panky hadn't gone on. If it had, I don't want to know about it. Yuck!
I peeled potatoes for home fries with green peppers and onions, then went out on the deck for a cigarette. I was thinking about Willie and how great our sex was this weekend. Me fucking him and him fucking me. Willie's sensual make-outs, his smell, and his taste aroused me greatly. The wide range of personality he's shown, from sweet to stern, I always feel his love. It makes me short of breath thinking about him. God, when he wraps me up his arms and legs after sex, I can't describe how sexy that is to me. Sure, once in a while, he insists on being in charge or dominant or whatever word you want to choose for it, but it's such a small part of our time together that it doesn't matter to me.
Or, if it does matter, it matters in a good way, meaning I think I like him more when he's that way. That's just me, though. I know many people aren't ever submissive to anyone, even if they love the person. That's fine for them, but I like it. There is a fine line, though, that I can't articulate. I'll know it if it's crossed, and then the dominant behavior won't be all right with me. Relationships adjust over time, it's like squirming together in bed until we get together just right with everything fitting together nicely. Then we go to sleep feeling good and safe and loved and wicked comfortable.
Chubby and I have been sleeping like that this week, and I get a semi-boner from thinking that thought. I'm lucky beyond belief to have a few boys I love. Most people want their space, but where Willie or Chubby are concerned, my space belongs to them, and vice versa. I've been as lucky as you can get to have had so many sexual escapades so quickly after Carl brought me out as a gay boy.
Tris and Chubby are back! I heard Chubby grunting as if he was in pain coming upstairs, and I got that nervous feeling in my stomach again that something was wrong, but Chubby wouldn't tell me what it was. My Mom asked Tris, "What happened?" Tris says, "Nothing, really. Jeffrey pulled a muscle in his buttocks, bending over to wash the basement window this morning."
They were coming through the door to the family room while I stayed in the kitchen watching them. Tris came in carrying Chubby's little satchel, and I heard Chubby behind her grumbling, "I'd be in a better mood if you'd stop grilling me about a simple muscle pull." Tris says incredulously, "Grilling you!? I asked one question, that's it."
Chubby was inside the door now, walking how I walked coming home from Carl's the first time he fucked my ass hard. I didn't have a pulled muscle, either. My heart was beating fast, I was scared for Chubby. On the job, he was taken a beating somehow by somebody. I never thought anybody could do that to Chubby.
He looked around; I knew he was looking for me, so I stepped out, and he took one look and said, "Jesus, I'm away for two days, and you join the Marines!" He couldn't make too much out of it, though, because he had a fresh tight buzzcut himself. I knew Ricky was bossing him around again. I ignored Chubby's buzzcut because this extreme flattop of mine took precedence. I said, "It was an innocent mistake in judgment that will grow back in about two years and look normal again."
He stared and said, "I've never seen anything like that, but it's just right on you. You look marvelous!" He should have laughed, but instead, he grimaced, taking a step toward our bedroom, walking like he had a pole up his ass. I felt sick to my stomach now, forget the nervous feeling. Nevertheless, I followed him into the bedroom. The moms stood there with puzzled expressions, watching us go.
From past experiences in dealing with Chubby's bad moods, I knew the best way to get him out of a bad mood was to be available but not interact with him too much and, for God's sake, don't ask him questions. He flopped down on the bed as I walked past to our bathroom. I did not really need to, but I peed a little bit anyway. Then I picked up some dirty clothes from the only chair in our bedroom, dropped them on the floor, and slouched into the chair with my feet propped up on the bed. The silence was deafening, as they say. I was determined to wait him out, and after ten minutes, he asked, "Why'd you get that haircut?"
I told him the bull shit story I told the moms, embellishing parts to try to make it funnier and mostly trying to be very self-deprecating. "So Chubby, that's how I wound up with this severe haircut. Helping a friend." He squinted his eyes, suspecting that I was lying, then said, "As soon as you walked into that army base barbershop and caught a gander at the guys getting haircuts, you should have done an immediate U-turn and jumped in your friend's car and your friend should have been driving that fucking thing with his foot so heavy on the gas the car was up on its back wheels laying rubber all the way down the fucking block; nothing but smoke from the burning rubber. You are one big fuck-up when I'm not around to save your ass."
I mumbled, "I know that," and that got the first smile I'd seen from Chubby since a few hours before he left last Friday. I didn't push it. Instead, I followed his lead and was back to being silent as I marveled at how Chubby's description of what we should have done at the barbershop mimicked the way we left the gay club's parking lot last night. Three minutes of silence later, he said, "I know god damn well about this routine of yours. You refuse to say anything until I do. I know you can hold off for freaking hours without saying something, but I can't! So, you win. What are we having for dinner?" I said, "Meat-fucking-loaf. Let's have a cigarette." He chuckled at that and walked bow-legged out to the deck. On the deck, I lit up, took a drag, and passed the cigarette to Chubby. He wanted to skip the boardwalk tonight, "Too much walking with this damn pulled muscle, and five hours on a bus was exhausting. You wouldn't think it would be, but it is". I said I understood and then brought up the idea I had about renting motorbikes and exploring the rest of Wildwood, the part away from the beach and the boardwalk.
He thought it was a cool idea, but his ass was going to need to feel a lot better before he'd try that. I didn't mention that he's said ass instead of pulled muscle. A sore rectum, I knew, was fine the next day. Carl did me again that next afternoon. Wow, it was great after he outed me. He fucked me so much that first month. Oh God, I loved it. I miss Carl and hope he invites me to Maine. His cock was a pretty good match for my ass, and I still think of how good that felt, although there were days I wound up walking like Chubby is walking now. I wonder if that's the reason he's walking like that. Rickie over did fucking him. Or was it something more nefarious than that?
During dinner, Chubby and I didn't do too much talking. The Moms were chatter-boxes, though, and Chubby and I learned more about their weekend than we cared to know. We also learned the Moms had another booze cruise tomorrow, this time with their new boyfriends. Then deep-sea fishing on Wednesday. They told us the boyfriends were twin brothers eight years younger than our Moms and so cute and so much fun. Before the Moms were done describing the twins, I wanted to meet them. Twenty-eight years old might be too old for me, but I'm willing to try it.
The mom's itinerary meant Chubby and I were on our own for dinner the next three nights, which was no big deal to us. We're almost always on our own for dinner. Chubby was going to bed after dinner. The Moms weren't going to bed but weren't going out tonight, so I decided to walk the boards. Sometimes it's good to only need to worry about yourself. No concern if your buddy wants to go here or there, no need for compromises of any kind, just do what you want. Of course, it's only fun because it's so rare for me. If I were on my own a lot, that would suck! But on a rare occasion, it's cool.
I walked a totally different route to the boardwalk than Chubby and I went. Down a few blocks and up a few blocks and to tell you the truth, it all looked pretty much the same. Double-decker duplexes tight together for block after block, all filled with families on vacation. Nothing new to see this close to the boardwalk, but on motorbikes, we could head miles away from the ocean and see what Wildwood looks like then. I know from driving to Wildwood last Sunday that there's a lot of farmland, and that's what gave me the motorbike idea.
After thirty minutes of walking the boards alone, not going on any rides, I decided this sucks. I didn't even see a cute guy, although I saw two of the Mohawk man's boys with his signature red Mohawk haircut on both boys, who appeared to be older than me. Both haircuts looked old, though. The hair was a half-inch long on the shaved parts of their scalps. I almost called to one but chickened out. If they were younger-looking, I definitely would have tried hooking up with them.
The next morning, Chubby was noticeably walking better, which I predicted from my own experiences, but he was still moody. We went to the beach without talking much. The Moms had already left for their booze cruise. I got our coffees and we sat in beach chairs staring at the ocean until the twins snuck up behind us and attacked with arms around our necks and cheeks against our cheeks. They both yelled at me for getting this bizarre haircut, but that was the last mention of it. Later, we went into the ocean, roughhousing and riding waves onto the beach.
At noon, the twins left for their golf lessons, and with Chubby still introspective and not saying much, I thought about Willie. I was in love, I think. His picture in my head, his watch on my wrist, his necklace around my neck, well, not on the beach, but you know, in my mind. I was surrounded by Willie and thrilled about it, too. I missed him fucking me and making out with me, and wrapping me in his tight grasp afterward. It was as if he wanted all of me and that's flattering. Who doesn't want to be desired? His almost comical insistence that he's the dominant figure is fine by me. I don't care, it's such a tiny part of our relationship. My ego isn't damaged.
I'd love to be making out with him right now. His taste, smell, and feel are unreal. Chubby interrupted my reverie, saying, "I'm hungry." On the boardwalk, we had two hotdogs, large fries, and a large frosty root beer. Chubby was quiet, and he looked tired. He murmured, "I'm wiped out, bro. That trip took a lot out of me and kind of fucked up my vacation. Um, would you get pissed if I went back to the place for a nap? I want to be ready for some action on the boardwalk tonight."
"No, a nap is a great idea, Chub. Man, I'd probably have to stay in bed all day if I had to go through your last three days. You go ahead, don't worry about the stuff on the beach. I'll bring all of it back to the house." Chubby swallowed, making a gulping sound, looked away, and then squeezed my hand like he does. He looked me in the eyes, and he murmured, "I love having you as my best friend, Dylan. You don't even know how much it means to know you're always there for me. Thank you. I love you, bro!" And, holy shit, we both had to look away because we had a fucking tear in our eyes. WOW, that's weird!
We didn't try saying anything else; Chubby just got up and waved with his fingers as he headed for the boardwalk ramp. He was still walking a little bowlegged. What had happened to him? Whatever it was, I hope whoever did it to him enjoyed themselves because the payback is going to be a bitch; it's going to be a hurtin' time for whoever is responsible. I swallowed hard and sat there alone, watching the ocean with its endless, hypnotic waves rolling onto the beach, the undertow always following the waves... the horizon and ocean merging way out there. Spectacular in its scope and power. And then there's the sun mindlessly but relentlessly blaring its heat at its planets. It makes a person feel small to the point of incomprehensibly insignificant.
With that cheery thought in mind, I try to understand why I feel uneasy. I'm in a good place with Willie, except I don't think I want to go to Maine with him. I don't want to see Larry at all, and my infatuation for Carl is dissolving. And I'm uneasy because there is obviously something serious going on with the window washer boys, and it's beating Chubby down. That's why I'm uneasy. I feel helpless.
I'm not good at being alone. I started thinking of the worst things, so I gathered up all our stuff and trudged off the beach, then the five-block walk to our summer condo. Damn, it's at least ten degrees hotter away from the ocean. The duplex was its usual meat-locker-cold when compared to the outside temperature. I glanced into the bedroom and saw Chubby under the covers, making quiet snoring sounds. He looked so peaceful, and what a pretty boy he is. I know that we guys do not like to be called pretty, but so what?
I was afraid of waking him, and he obviously needed the rest, so I walked back to the boardwalk, where the breeze off the ocean felt almost cool compared to the way it felt inland. I smoked a cigarette and felt lazy, walking slowly down the boards. Then, there was a mohawk boy. Holy shit!I felt my extreme flattop and knew I was no longer a candidate to be one of Mohawk man's boys. Probably just as well, but man, oh man, could he put a fucking on you with that curved cock of his. Whoa! I had to smile to myself because I remembered the spanking. He's a strong motherfucker.
Yes, the spanking was no joking matter, but it was worth the fucking that followed. That was extraordinary, not as a steady diet, certainly. Hmm, I walked down toward the Mohawk Piercings shop with this funny, nervous feeling in my stomach. I told myself: You're not stupid enough to go back for more, are you? I felt my earring, my ass, and my flattop and answered myself with: I don't fucking know if I will or not. Was this why I felt uneasy earlier on the beach? Did my subconscious mind know I was going to do something stupid? There it is, right where it was when I was here last time. Duh! There is the weathered sign: Mohawk Piercings.
I wonder what is wrong with me. I looked in through the plate glass window seeing a few customers, and there was the sign pointing to the piercing room and a Mohawk man with a curved cock. Goddammit, I'm getting a semi-boner, so I walked over to the bench side of the boardwalk and sat on the same bench I sat on after Mohawk Man fucked me spectacularly. I knew where the back door was, and I knew to knock on it, and he would open it. What would happen then?
Well, almost certainly a bad spanking for getting this haircut, and maybe then he'd shave what little hair I have left into a mohawk, and then maybe he'd give me the double fuck. I only got the first half last time. Wait! A boy just came around from the back of the shop. He's rubbing his behind. Jesus, I wonder if Mohawk Man just did him. The kid doesn't have a mohawk. He's got longish, curly brown hair, and he's okay-looking but definitely not what you'd call cute. He sat on a bench across the boardwalk from me, and now I see he has a badly swollen earlobe with a stud. Taking a deep breath, I walked across the boardwalk and sat down beside the kid. Taking out my pack of cigarettes, I asked, "Would you like one?"
He looked up with just his eyes, saw me, and smiled, saying, "No thanks, I gave 'em' up." His smile was this kid's cute feature. I smiled back, lit up a Marlboro, and asked, "Did you just get your ear pierced?" The kid says, "Yeah, and my ass beat, too. Go on in and get something pierced, he'll think you're one of the guys who's tormenting him, and you'll wish you got the piercing somewhere else."
He stood, and I muttered, "Hey, I was..." He wouldn't say more, walking away. It didn't appear that he'd been crying. He seemed like a tough guy who didn't want my company. What the hell? I walked away, too. Willie probably did me a favor with this stupid flattop; without it, I very well might have taken Mohawk Man up on his offer. Instead, I went down to the beach and walked at the ocean's edge for an hour and then returned to the place to see how Chubby was doing.
He was up and in a good mood by the time we were done re-shaving our pubes and jerking each other off. It's a good feeling being all shaved down there, and the jerkoff temporarily satisfied my constant horniness. We both had very nice climaxes and then hugged in the shower, swaying under the shower spray till the pads of our fingers were all wrinkly from being wet for so long. Then, the boardwalk was excellent; just Chubby and me. It was smooth sailing the next couple of days for us. The Moms were busy and happy as can be. It's great that they had their playmates, too. The twins, Chubby, and I had a three-hour miniature golf tournament that Noah won in a playoff with me. They are very competitive,
Our vacation was coming to an end. Tomorrow is Thursday, and Chubby has to leave on Friday for his bus ride back to Framingham. That prick Rickie insisted Chubby come home Friday night to stay with him so Chubby would be ready to start work early Saturday morning. Saturday is when the rest of us check out and drive home. For me, I'm back to work on Monday. My bosses, the Dickers, are way more compassionate than Ricky-asshole.
Wednesday, after dinner, we walked two blocks to where the Moms rented mopeds and scooters on a twenty-four-hour basis. Chubby and I couldn't rent them because we didn't have driver's licenses. We, of course, knew how to ride bikes so we could ride a scooter, and we promised our Moms we'd only be on back roads, which is true because we wanted to explore Wildwood. Of course, we wanted motorbikes, not fucking scooters, but we couldn't get the Moms to give in on that. Another thing we couldn't do was convince the rental people that the Moms were renting the scooters for themselves, so the rental guy insisted on a five-hundred-dollar cash deposit before he'd rent them.
This was the end of our vacation and we didn't have cash for that. We should never have gone with our Moms. The Moms didn't fight too hard trying to change the guy's mind because they didn't really want us to go riding off on the scooters in the first place. Chubby and I gave the finger to that asshole when we walked away and then stood there daring him to do anything about it. What he did was laugh and say, "Sorry, boys, this is my livelihood here. Not a fucking game."
So, on that sour note, we walked to the boards and made the best of our disappointment. It hardened our resolve to do what we needed to do to get driving licenses. What a bitch! Chubby and I hadn't seen anyone from home this week. We'd seen four or five different people last week, but from my point of view, seeing no one was ideal because I liked having Chubby all to myself.
Thursday was our last full day at Wildwood together, but it went pretty much like all the other days. Friday morning Chubby and Tris said their goodbyes to the North family, and there were hugs all around. They left for the bus station to drop Chubby off. Chubby and I said our goodbyes last night. After the boardwalk, we did a late shower together, and it got pretty close to a make-out when we were soaking wet, hugging each other, and doing little kisses on the side of each other's head. We both got our boners, and I said, "Do you know what the Dickers brothers do?" and Chubby swallowed hard and squeaked out, "Do you mean their fast kiss?" and I said, "Yeah, that," and I kissed Chubby a very real, sexy kiss on the lips for the first time in my life. Chubby kissed back and grinned and said, "Gross!"
Later in bed, I told Chubby how important he was in my life, and he went into great detail to explain that he was the best friend anyone could ever hope for. I said, right in his ear, "I love you, Chubby," and he said, "Right back at you, bro," and we went to sleep. My heart had been pounding when I told him I loved him and the same when I gave him a for-real kiss on the lips. I was proud that, even though I was nervous, I followed through and did both things.
It was lonely when Tris and Chubby left. Later, Mom and I said goodbye to the Norths because we'd be leaving tomorrow before lunch. No beach time, no anything time. It was pretty much over. In the water, just before the twins left, both twins kissed me goodbye. They're sexy boys and very hot. Quite a few people swimming around us saw us kissing, but we did it anyway. I almost shot off in my swimsuit before we were done. That was fun.
That night, our last night here, Tris, Mom, and I had a farewell dinner at a nice restaurant, and then I walked up and down the boardwalk once and called it a vacation. All I was thinking about at first was Chubby and Willie. Chubby because I'm going to tell him I'm gay, probably Sunday, and Willie because I'm going to tell him I'm in love with him.
This was a fast vacation, but a lot of things happened along the way. Everything considered, I'm a happy teenager. I wonder how many guys can say that? Then, I got happier thinking about seeing and working with Robby Dickers. Holy shit, yeah! And Dodger, too...
to be continued.......
