Willie and I lie in my twin bed, soaking up vibrations of the two fucks we had. We're quiet for a few minutes until Willie says, "I hate to tell you this, baby, but we really ought to be heading out to the block party now. It's been super awesome lying in your bed fucking you, but we're expected, and I want to show off my boyfriend.
We clean up in the bathroom, and then Willie admires himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, running his fingers through his short hair, muttering, "My hair is growing out faster than yours, Dylan." I took that opening to say, "Oh, I wanted to ask you something about that, Willie. Um, what do you think about me getting a buzzcut?"
I asked him that as part of my plans for the upcoming hideous Saturday overnight with Joel, who insisted my hair be no longer than half an inch as it was after my haircut at that military barbershop weeks ago. Willie looked at me and said, "Oh, um, I don't like the same length all over, but I screwed us up last time, so I'm staying out of haircut decisions. I suck at that."
Frowning, Willie asks, "Why are you asking about a haircut?" I shrug, "It's summer and..." He grins and said, "As my boyfriend, you'll have the same hairstyle as me." Saying that as if it's a joke," and he rubbed my head.
Fuck! Who knows what Joel will do if I don't get it cut? In an offhand manner, Willie mumbles, "I can take you to the Wellesley barbershop, where I first got that flattop haircut. Remember?" I'm sick of haircut talk. The Marine and Joel, and Larry, all use haircuts as one more way to show who is dominant, and I'm caught in their web as a powerless submissive. I don't know what to do, which isn't all that unusual.
Shorty, we were on our way to Cambridge and the gayborhood block party. Jeez, I couldn't help but think about the sex Willie and I just had and how good it had been. The big hickey Willie gave me burns, but other than that, I felt relaxed and wonderfully satisfied. Looking over at Willie, I'm thinking how lucky I've been since coming out as gay. Willie and I were coming together so perfectly, but I did need to admit to myself that my plan of using baby steps to get him to realize that the dominant/submissive thing was stupid was making some progress.
Most of the time Willie treats me as I'm a special treasure he was lucky enough to have stumbled upon, so it's all cool. Nobody except Chubby has ever treated me like I'm very special. Most guys ignore me, while Willie does the opposite! I remembered that rush I got when I fucked Robby, and he acted submissive to me. I can see things from both sides now, and I can see sub/dom behavior is harmless if it's just done in good fun. A madman like the Mohawk man or Joel is an entirely different story. It can be ugly with crazy people.
I'm sure I'll be in for a rough time with Joel next weekend, and it's outrageously unfair that I need to put up with it to keep my job, but no one ever said life was fair. Doing what Joel wants will be horrendous, but Cubby and I are planning on paying back everyone we need to once we've got the money we want. Me being pretend submissive to Willie during sex, is playtime. That's the toy store of life with fun and games with Willie. Of course, the fact that I love him might have something to do with how I rationalized away anytime he overdoes something.
In Cambridge, we didn't get lucky with a parking spot this time, and it was a six-block walk from where Willie parked the car to the block party. On the way, Willie walked with his arm around my waist as usual. Others were walking ahead and behind us, so I asked in a really low voice, "Ah, Willie, remember at Sea Isle you said you'd walk with your arm around my shoulders when other people were around?" In a good-natured way, Willie says, "First off, it was my arm around your neck, not around your shoulders, and secondly, yes, I do mind because I want everyone to know you're my boyfriend."
I huffed an exaggerated exhale and thought about Sea Isle and that Sunday morning after lying in bed hung over. I'd asked him where he'd gotten his ideas for proper dating protocol, such as the arm around your boyfriend's waist when walking. He hadn't known what I was talking about. It's comical the way Willie can be so unassuming, and the next thing I know, we're doing things exactly how he wants.
Willie's arm still around my waist pulled me against him, and I wondered when it was that I'd fallen in love with him. It's not as if a light suddenly turned on in my head or anything like that; it's more like an afterthought. Hey, I'm in love with him! It was sometime during the weekend in Sea Isle City; probably when he put his foot down with me, but afterward, he was so clever downplaying everything that he still somehow made me fall in love with him. He has a magnetic personality, as far as I'm concerned he does. All the things he can do and has already done, as well as all the people he knows, fascinate me.
As we walked toward the block party, sharing a cigarette, most people around us paid us little mind, except three guys around a bench, passing a quart bottle of beer back and forth. The bench they were lounging on was in this well-manicured common area we were walking by. They appeared to be about twenty years old or so. The one who looked like a young Leonardo Di Caprio shouted, "You girls look cute together. Do you want to have a good time giving us head?"
Willie flashed them the finger and yelled back, "Hey, fuck you, losers! Shouldn't you be shining shoes somewhere?" I was shocked he would call these three out, and not only that, but he stopped to challenge them to do something about it. They stayed where they were, shouting back, "Move it along, queers, you're giving the neighborhood a bad odor." They were less enthusiastic with that last insult than their initial one. Willie laughed at them, gave them the finger again, and yelled, "Practice this line, assholes: Do you want fries with your order?"
He tugged on my side, and we sauntered on our way as the three guys called after us, "Homos..." I've been in my share of fights; Chubby and I have, but antagonizing three healthy twenty-something-year-old guys isn't a move I'd recommend. Leave sleeping dogs lie, pretend you didn't hear them, or something like that would have been my approach. Not Willie's, and it's funny, too, because usually he's oblivious to surroundings that don't interest him. He seems to be aware of every step I take, of course, but all the other people walking by us might as well be invisible as far as Willie's concerned, except this time.
Maybe Willie felt he was protecting the honor of his boyfriend, who happens to be me. I'd encourage him not to do that if I thought it would do any good. The entire episode made me laugh once we were down the block. Hearing me chuckle, Willie absently asks, "What's so funny?" He had already put that incident into the junk pile. Chubby and I would go over it twenty times, embellishing the tale till it was almost unrecognizable. It's fun to do that sometimes.
Another block and I heard music, which told me we were just around the corner from the block party. It was club dance music, not music you hear regularly on mainstream FM radio. A hot beat and no lyrics, but it's cool! The first guys we see are the two I met when we went to the movies in Cambridge many weeks ago, Jeremy Goldman and Martin Remington. Both fellows are obviously gay, although supposedly not boyfriends. They were both twenty-two, and we all did quick hugs and air kisses.
Willie asked, "Have you put on some weight, Jeremy?" Martin laughed, saying, "Only twelve pounds," and Jeremy muttered, "What a liar you are, Martin," and he looked right at me and said," WOW! Look at the hickey Willie gave Dylan!" Jeremy says, "Move over, Martin, let me see." Then he giggles and goes, "Oh my God, I'm getting a hard-on just thinking about Willie sucking on that tender neck of yours, Dylan. Ooooh, you two are soooo lucky to have each other!"
Willie and I smirked, and kept walking, Jeremy and Martin were with us now. I could see up ahead there were tables and many were covered with plates containing different food dishes, some hot and some cold is what it looked like. Maybe fifty different food selections. Two large grilles with barbecuing chicken and other meats. I'd guess there were at least a hundred people, probably more, and I saw a group of six just walking into the blocked-off area now, so the crowd is still growing.
All the food smelled good, and I was hungry. We got in the food line, and Martin said, "I'd like to lick your ass like a doggie, Dylan." Willie mumbles, "When did you start doing heavy drugs, Martin?" He gets a, "Humph!" from Martin, who then muttered, "I'm old, but I just love the twinks, and I always will." Willie rolled his eyes, saying, "You're twenty-two, Martin."
We got paper plates and began loading on various side dishes. There were aluminum picnic tables and chairs, plenty of modern-looking port-a-potties, coolers on tables with all types of soft drinks and beers, two bars for hard drinks, plus all the great music and colored strings of lights hanging all over, and a nice dance floor with a professional DJ playing the tunes. The whole block was alive with conversation, dancing, and eating, with a background of loud laughter and a high excitement level overall.
Willie bought twenty dollars' worth of a fifty-fifty raffle while I got everyone soft drinks. Willie says, "We'll get ourselves some vodka drinks after we eat, Dylan. Martin said we should have wine with our meal. Willie and I are like, "Yuck!" The food was very good, and we all ate our first plate without much talking. Willie finished first and me second. "Let's get another plate of food, Dylan." I nodded, swallowing the last bite on my plate, a forkful of chicken salad. As I got up to go with him, Willie beamed at me and said, "You're even yummier than the food," then he kissed my mayonnaise-covered lips, mumbling, "Yum!" We went off for the barbecued chicken, some sweet molasses baked beans, and some kind of Chinese noodle salad.
Willie has expanded my world, given me so many new experiences, and introduced me to new people. Speaking of new people, two were at our picnic table when we returned with our replenished plates. As soon as Willie saw them, he screamed, "Lonny! You made it! and Terry O'Neil, too." They both got right up and sweetly mauled Willie. Neither Lonny nor Terry were teenagers, but I couldn't tell how old they were; somewhere between twenty and thirty is my best guess, probably closer to thirty.
I would have assumed they were both gay, no matter the circumstances. Lonny had make-up on, and his hair was longish, emo style, with hair covering one eye. He had rings on both thumbs and a strong cologne/perfume smell that was very spicy, not horrible, but strong. He wore dark-colored clothes and was thin and tall. On the other hand, Terry looked almost normal except for the nose ring and the tattoo on the side of his neck. He was shorter than me and pudgy with preppy clothes, a Madras button-down shirt, pleated Bermuda shorts, and topsiders on his sock-less feet. Quite a contrasting pair. Lonny did all the talking for the duo, reminding me of the twins in Wildwood.
When Willie introduced me to Lonny, he squealed, "Willie, you finally got your perfect boyfriend! How marvelous! And, is that a humongous hickey I see, or did Dylan swallow an apple?" Lonny limp-wristed a wave at me, saying, "Willie's been looking for you for years. He's so particular, and he finally found what he's been looking for. And the size of that hickey tells me you're one lucky boy, too! Give me a kiss!" He pulled my head roughly over to him and kissed my lips, leaving greasy-feeling lipstick behind. He screamed, "Oh no! Willie will get mad," meaning the lipstick he'd left on me.
He pulled out what looked to me like a lady's hanky, spit on it, and wiped the lipstick off my lips. Willie chuckled, "Poor Dylan, Lonny already has a crush on him." Terry groaned, "Oh God, not another one." Willie explained that he'd met these two a few years ago at a gay outreach program that one of the churches in Cambridge was having. None of them joined the church, but they all hit it off and have been doing things together every couple of months for two years. Lon and Terry are a couple. They own a spa/salon situated not far from where we were. Lon does make-up and nails and Terry is the hairstylist. It's a unisex salon catering mainly to gays and rich women from Beacon Hill and Cambridge. "Oh my goodness, the liberal, rich, straight woman can't love us enough, can they, Terry?" Lonny was effervescent about everything.
When we couldn't eat anymore, Willie, Lon, Terry, and I went to buy adult beverages. At this block party, if you have the money, you're old enough to drink. Jeremy and Martin went to the dance floor. We got grapefruit juice and vodka, for which Willie paid five dollars each. The alcoholic drinks helped cover the cost of the block party, I was told. I enjoyed being with these gay young men. This is the first time I've been with multiple gays, and it was relaxing and somehow reaffirming that we're here and we're okay.
We finished our first drinks, and Willie got everyone a second. Lon and Terry were drinking white wine that Terry let me taste. It was ghastly! Lonny said, "Do you have Dylan in girl's panties yet, Willie? That's always been your fantasy, right?" He asked that as if he were asking if Willie liked chocolate cake." Frowning, I mutter, "Girl's panties?" Lonny says, "Oh yeah, it's Willie's dream. If he ever found one, he wants his boyfriend to wear girlie silky panties with little bows and frilly lace."
I snicker nervously, assuming Lonny was trying to break my balls. Lonny grinned and asked, "C'mon, don't be shy. Can you show us a little peek at what they look like?" Willie said, "He doesn't know about the panties fantasy, Lon! Not until you opened your big mouth." Then Willie squeezed my shoulder, giggled, and added, "I'm sneaking up to tell him about the panties." Willie and Lonny were laughing, but I think they were serious. Lon goes, "Dylan, please wear them for your boyfriend. I want to see how proud he'll be if you do." I'm like, "Huh?" Willie pulls my head over and says, "Would you do that for me, baby? Wear the silky panties I buy for you?"
He seriously meant it, and although I wanted him to be able to show off for his friends, I didn't want to wear girls' panties. Nevertheless, I mumbled, "I guess I will if you really need me to." Willie nodded at Terry and Lon and said, "See..." Muttering, "You rock, Willie!" Lonny did a limp-wristed version of a high-five with Willie. Willie beamed at me, and I felt proud to have come through for him.
Lon says, "Let's dance." The four of us joined Martin and Jeremy on the dance floor. Willie and I did four fast dances in a row. I concentrated on the dance steps Willie had taught me at his mother's birthday party. After the first dance, Willie said, "You've got good rhythm, Dylan; try this move. After you do this, do this twice," he taught me a new step. It was so cool! He's a great dancer, one of the best I saw all night. We worked up a nice little sweat on our faces, and when the DJ played a slow song, Willie and I wrapped our arms around each other and swayed with the music, the sides of our sweaty faces pressed together, and I am so deeply in love with him I hardly know what to do. I'll do whatever he wants.
I could feel the vodka doing its job on my head, and I was very relaxed, having a wonderful time. During the second slow song, Lon said, "Can I dance with Dylan, Willie?" Willie smiled and nodded, then joined Terry at the table, where Terry had bought another round of drinks. I watched Willie, thrilled to be his boyfriend. Lonny was a pretty good dancer, too. I hadn't expected him to be because he was so tall. I'm five foot ten, and he was three or four inches taller. It's a minor thing, but when dancing with Willie, of course, he leads, but I wondered why Lonny assumed he'd lead. Well, I'm a good follower.
He held me close, and with him leading, we had a smooth time. He smelled good, or I should say his cologne smelled good. After the dance, he kissed me a little too long, right on the lips again, and this time with a little tongue. Then he cleaned the lipstick off my lips using that same hanky and spit technique from earlier. My eyes were looking down as he scrubbed my lips, and I could see the long outline of his semi-hard cock. The length of it made me gulp. It was even longer than Willie's.
We walked back to join our boyfriends at the table. I sat beside Willie, and he put his arm around me, pulling me up against him. Almost immediately, a fat kid who looked about our age came over and kissed Willie on the cheek. Willie looked up and said, "Hi, Walter! Whaazzz up?" Walter says, "Nothing much, I came to see your boyfriend. Everybody says he's cute," Walter is looking me over, mumbling, "What the fuck! Everyone is right, too."
I roll my eyes as he glances at Willie, asking, "Do you mind?" Willie mumbles, "No, go ahead." Walter plants a wet kiss on my mouth, holding the kiss for three or four long seconds, and then said, "Sweet!" Because Walter ignored him Lonny, Lonny muttered, "What a delightful, overweight person you are, Walter." Then, after doing something feminine, moving his head and shoulders, he sweetly said, Come on, Terry, let's dance."
We all gave a half-hearted wave, Walter frowning at the overweight comment, and then Willie, Walter, and I wandered over to one of the bars, and Willie bought us another drink. I hadn't touched the third one at the table yet, but this new one was ice cold, and I couldn't even taste the vodka, so I drank it pretty fast. I felt dizzy right after that. Walter said, "Guess who's here, Willie? I saw him earlier." Willie said, "Don't tease me and say Charles Neil is here." Walters says, "Yep, in the flesh, and he asked me if you were here. I knew you were 'cause the guys were talking about your boyfriend."
Willie put his arm across my shoulders, pulling me against his side, asking Walter, "Where'd you last see Charles?" Walter said, "It was an hour ago near the DJ stand. Willie mumbled, "Let's see if we can find him," so we headed to the DJ stand with a jealous pang in my heart. I asked, "Who is this guy, Willie."
Walter and Willie exchanged glances, and then Willie said, "Um, well, ah...
To be continued...
