Dylan felt fine, but Coach Riley was feeling weird. He picked up his cell phone and dialed his boyfriend
David. "Uh, hey, Dave, I -uh got hung up at work. It's one of the players. So, I'll have to take a rain check
on tonight, okay?"
"You're not dumping me for jail bait?"
"No, of course not," Riley answered truthfully as Dylan was 18.
"Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Yeah, maybe tomorrow night," Riley said in a distracted voice. He couldn't stop thinking about Dylan. He was
nervous as a school girl. Damn, he wanted Dylan inside him. He frowned. He was the top, well with Dave he was
top. Dylan made him want to be a power bottom. He headed to the shower to give himself an enema and shave his
chest.
Dylan, meanwhile, raced home to get ready for his hot date.
"Oh, good, Dylan, you're home," said his mother, "Your father and I were afraid we'd be late. Now you take
care of Nate, and make sure he does his homework and doesn't get into any trouble."
"Bu-"
"No, buts young man. You've known for a month that your father and I had to go to his annual company awards
banquet. We should be home by 10."
The door slammed. Dylan stood there with his mouth hanging open. He reached for the wand in his back pocket,
but it was gone. He turned around and Nate was holding it. He had picked his pocket.
"You know I'm really too old for a babysitter, Dillweed," he said looking at the wand in his hands.
"Hey, give me that wand!"
"You just forget about the wand!" Nate said aiming it at Dylan. For a moment a dull look crossed his brother's
face.
"Uh, yeah, you play with magic kit or whatever. I gotta get ready for my hot date."
Nate looked at the wand and scratched his head.