Redneck Reveries 4 By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have, comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com
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Blackwell went home at noon, and John and I talked. His wife had blindsided him. He had been saving to buy a house. She had emptied the savings account, so he was close to being penniless. I think he was too shocked to be mad. I had observed a number of gay breakups and the looting of the bank accounts was a common experience. I could give him some guidance.
I called some lawyer friends. They knew of her lawyers and told me John's biggest problem would be getting back the money she spent on legal fees. They had a history of telling their clients anything they wanted to hear and charging an arm and a leg. They were financially successful in spite of their dismal record in the courtroom.
We had a few beers during the course of the afternoon, and John calmed down. It had been a long day and after dinner we were both ready for bed.
"Somerville, this may sound odd, but I'd like to mess around some," he said. I had thought John knew me better. I was always ready to mess around.
"That would be nice," I replied, "real nice."
"You know I'm basically a fuck and shoot kind of guy?" he continued. I nodded. "I'm wanting something romantic, kissing and stuff like that. Would that bother you?"
"Not it wouldn't," I said. "Let's just act like we are two guys wildly in love with each other."
He smiled. "I can be in love with you for one night. Is that enough for you?"
I told him yes. We went to bed.
I knew John was a good man and a nice guy. I didn't know if he could be affectionate or passionate. That wasn't a problem at all. We kissed, we cuddled we sucked and he fucked. More correctly, he fucked and fucked and fucked. I think he fell asleep with his cock in my ass. It was a wonderful night.
The next morning he went back to his house. On Monday he was at work as if nothing had happened, at his home or in my bedroom.
If I had been able to get John and his crew over to my house every night or two that would have been good, but that didn't happen. We were all busy men. Scheduling was a bitch. There was another problem. We were all hard working men. They were early risers and I had found that getting to the Italian Garden Theater early in the morning was much cooler. I was getting up at six. After diner the urge to sleep came quickly. Club boys could stay up all night; that wasn't an option for us.
I had many social and professional events I had to attend. It was lucky if we could get together every two weeks or so. I saw John and his crew every day or two at the theater, and I ran into Blackwell often at the Museum. Non-staff people could not wander the non-public areas of the Museum without a staff member with them. Blackwell was my minder. I thought that was a bit much, but the director told me that I would be shocked at what an 8 by 12 inch painting or drawing was worth. There was a pretty Degas painting on the wall behind him in his office. I understood. I was nice to see Blackwell and talk with him. There were cameras everywhere so it was not possible to do anything.
He now had the staff calling him Blackwell and not Blackbeard. Blackbeard had been a nickname given to him by the janitors. He had been too shy to tell them he didn't like it. He told one of the conservators he didn't like it. She let it be known. The conservator, Ethel Williams was working on Sheila's collections. She was a pretty, petite girl with an iron will. She liked to have Blackwell do her heavy lifting. He was always gentle, careful and she usually got her way. She enforced the name change.
On Valentine's Day, I was visiting the theater to work out some problems with John. I had to get back to the office. It was raining heavily and I left by the back door to the alley. It was the shortest route to my car. In the alley I saw a woman on the ground screaming and a man standing over her.
"What in hell is going on here!" I yelled as I ran towards them. I'm a fairly big man and I figured I looked intimidating enough. The man had a club. I was yelling "Police! Help!" when he hit me. I don't know exactly what happened next. I know he hit me several times, but then the entire construction crew arrived loaded for bear. I think Bulldozer was first in line.
I felt odd. I realized I was excruciating pain and then I passed out. I woke up a day later in La-La-Land. I felt no pain, but I also did not feel as if I was living on the Earth any more. A day later I found out what happened. "Architect Injured Saving Rape Victim," was the Newspaper headline.
I had interrupted a rape, the rapist hit me three times with an iron pipe. By the time he was ready to finish me off with a blow to the head, Bulldozer had reached the scene and turned the tables with a two-by-four embedded with nails. Bubba and John were right behind Bulldozer and while two laborers pulled me to safety, they went after the rapist. Tommy went to help the woman. She was frightened, but unhurt.
We were just blocks from the police headquarters and when they received six or seven cell phone calls within a few seconds they were there a minute later. The rapist was apparently on drugs and he didn't stop fighting and trying to hurt me. John, his crew and a few laborers had a satisfying time incapacitating the rapist. Construction workers aren't prone to be gentle.
I was not conscious while most of this happened. I had a fractured skull and my right and left shoulders had been shattered. When I woke up I was in a big, downtown University Hospital that was good about injuries resulting from street brawls, knife fights and gun battles. The doctor later told me the fractured skull was comparatively minor. Apparently Bulldozer's two-by-four intercepted that blow. The shoulder injuries were massive and serious. There was a possibility I would lose the use of my arms. That is a problem for a man who makes his living drawing. Since I was unconscious, single and without a family the decision making process was unclear.
Fortunately Mrs. Milland, the benefactor of the theater, and Stella, my art collecting next door neighbor were available. A camera crew had been nearby and they had seen me being wheeled into an ambulance. Mrs. Milland arrived in his hospital with the President of the University, and the executive director of the hospital in tow. Stella had taken care of her husband's bad health for decades. She knew doctors.
Ralph came with my chief associate. They went to bat for my shoulders. A big University Hospital can be an impersonal place, but when there is a challenge they have vast resources. They did the equivalent of rebuilding my shoulders from scratch.
Mrs. Milland and Stella were with the University President worrying about my situation and discussing if the contributions they were thinking about giving to the University and the hospital were big enough. Ralph told me Mrs. Milland was quite refined in that respect. Stella was direct. She said that her husband's two children were well off and that she had to find some where to get rid of all this money she had inherited. Ralph was surprised when the Governor made a quick visit. Officially he was showing support for a concerned citizen who had taken action against street crime, but he also spent time with the two heiresses.
The rapist was in another part of the hospital. He was in bad but not critical condition. They had to remove the dangly parts of his genitals because they had been so badly injured in the fight. I later found out Bubba was responsible for that. His plan had been to cut the entire organ off and shove it up the rapist's ass. He settled for a kick or two to the groin. Bubba had three nieces that he loved dearly.
I was in the hospital for two weeks and then began rehab. Ralph had a cousin who was a retired nurse. Donny was an older, thinner and hairier version of Ralph. He was a classic hard-but-fair nurse who made sure I did everything I was told. He was a nice guy, but not flexible. Donny seemed like one of the drunks in Cheers, but he knew his stuff. I couldn't use my arms so he fed me, washed me and even wiped my ass. The alternative was to go into a residential rehab center. I wanted to get back to work.
Donny was a no drama guy, a "we've got to do what we have to do" man. After a month I could get into a car and spend two hours at the office and visit the theater. That was good for me. If I tried to spend four hours at the office, Donny was there to get me on schedule. My office staff and John were good about that. They had a list of decisions ready for me and we went down the list dealing with each problem or decision quickly.
By this time the theater was mostly construction problems, but the gallery on the Art Academy was gearing up. Donny and Blackwell soon became friends.
Ralph told me that he and Donny had been pals as kids and they had messed around some. I discovered Donny was a laid-back, low-key, sex maniac. That was nice in a man who had to aim my cock when I took a piss.
Donny had some odd ideas about what he called sexual rehabilitation. He believed that depression was the major problem in physical rehabilitation. Rehab was necessary, often painful and seemed to go on forever. He believed that a sexual interlude with an oversexed retired nurse was the perfect way to avoid depression and would provide an instant reward. I noticed that while his scheme might be good for the patient, it was just as good for the oversexed nurse.
The sex occurred regardless of how well I did in the session. I thought that was due to his own sexual needs. He told me if I put in the time it didn't make any difference how well I did. "A good session hurts just as much as a bad session," he said. He was right about that.
When I said Donny was hard but fair, he was really good about finding ways for me to do things that didn't hurt. I had pain pills, but he was interested in finding ways to avoid pain, not to just mitigate it. At first it was hard for me to do anything that didn't hurt. I discovered that if I stood in the shower he could wash me and suck my cock. He liked warm, spurting man milk, and my orgasms definitely did not hurt my shoulder.
He was a bottom and he found a way to straddle my cock and gently bounce in my cock until I shot off. He found the perfect rate of bouncing to both get me off and not hurt my shoulders.
Donny was not a good looking man. He was almost a circus freak in the body hair department. And his face was asymmetrical. Nothing seemed to fit right on his face. His nose was big and bent to the left and his mouth was on an odd diagonal. When he retired from nursing he grew a beard. That covered some of the problems in his face, but it also made him look scary.
None of that was a problem for my redneck entourage. They soon discovered they all shared common interests and that Donny was a sex machine that was on line 24-7. Donny wasn't shy at all and I think he talked with Bubba and Bubba gave him had a complete understanding of my sexual interests.
I enjoyed the bottom, but doggy style was impossible; my arms couldn't support my weight. You would have thought that being on my back would be better, but anything that put weight on my upper torso was painful. A well lubricated poke was fine, but nice deep ass pounding was impossible. Fucking without an orgasm was flat for me.
I hadn't fully realized it before, but my playmates orgasm was a major part of my enjoyment. The moment when Bubba's cock began to shoot his man seed into me, it often triggered my own orgasm. Oddly, that hadn't been the case with Raoul or my other lovers. They didn't shot off in me often and when they did, it seemed accidental. On man apologized when he climaxed. My redneck friends were pleased as punch when they shot off and were happy I provided a friendly and warm place to deposit their man seed.
Bulldozer, Blackwell and even Ralph seemed to regard my ass as a magic cave where a gay wizard worked his magic. Sometimes it's hard for me not to regard sex as magic. Ancient people may have had fertility gods and goddess, but I think they were truly sex gods. Fertility was just a happy by-product.
Donny was a clever man who set his mind to filling my empty and underused ass. One of the nice things about having a gay nurse is that he understood the problem and took it seriously. The solution was a modified sling. He found an engineer who was into slings and fuck machines. The engineer, Elton was a bit of a nerd, with no discernable personality and big time sexual needs.
Donny found him, met some of his sexual needs and asked him to work on a sling that was shoulder friendly. Elton was a mechanical genius of a sort. He designed air-conditioning for laboratories as his day job, but he wanted a more creative way to spend his spare hours. He came up with a sling that protected my upper body from jolts, and also had springs that dampened the swinging motions.
Donny told me about it and I wasn't sure. "It seems to me that the sling takes the mystery out of it," I said. "Everyone will know what I want."
"I don't want to hurt your feelings, but everyone knows what you like," Donny said. "That train has left the station and I think it left twenty years ago! You ain't a debutant[BW1]."
I laughed. Illusions and delusions are nice, but sex is better. Elton brought the sling to the house. Elton was thin, a bit scrawny and not as ugly as he looked. He was an average man, with a below average fashion sense and a defeated look.
The sling was simple and almost elegant in its simplicity. We talked as he assembled it and Elton seemed to relax. I was wearing a robe, so I removed it to get in the contraption. Elton liked what he saw. Donny stripped and he asked Elton to get naked too. He had told me that there was more to Elton than met the eye, and that was clear as soon and he stripped off his boxers. He was also half-hard already.
Elton was more interesting naked then dressed. His clothes were so bad he looked better without them. The erection helped too. His cock wasn't huge, but he had a long shaft crowned by broad mushroom cock head. He was pale, but his cock head was a beautiful shade of pink. It was downright pretty. Precum drooled from the slit and intensified the pink color.
They helped me into the sling. Both men were very careful and it was fine. I had never been in a sling before and it was comfortable. Donny lubricated my ass and Elton's cock. Elton positioned his cock at my ass and I felt a shiver of excitement. It had been months since the last time there was a cock in my ass.
"Take it easy," Donny said to Elton. "Bounce a little; let him open for you." I was willing, but my ass seemed to think it was virgin again. I was uneasy. Elton made a few bounces and my hole lost its squeamishness. The mushroom popped into the dark side of my sphincter. I felt a wave of sexual excitement sweep over me.
My reaction didn't approach Elton's. As his knob popped my ass ring, he glowed. He became animated and almost handsome. He gently pushed his organ deeper into me. He was slow and careful. Donny was watching. He paused at my prostate and rubbed it with his oversized knob. My ass fell in love with his cock. I looked at Elton's face. He was glowing. My ass was indeed a magic tunnel.
We all relaxed and things went well. Elton went deep and became more vigorous. My shoulders were fine. My ass felt better. Elton was in heaven. He let go, and I felt his warm man seed flooding my ass. He pulled out, but we all agreed a second experimental penetration was desirable. As luck would have it, Blackwell and Bubba stopped a little later that evening. My ass was open and available.
It was like old times. Blackwell made a trip into my ass with great success. Bubba fucked Donny, and then he gave Elton a poke. I don't think Elton had been fucked by a master. He made no effort to hide his feelings. His enthusiasm spread to the rest of us. Elton got along with the construction workers. I hadn't realized there were high tech, computer rednecks in addition to the construction type rednecks.
Elton, Bubba and Blackwell left and Donny was getting ready to get me out of the sling, when Ralph came by. My ass was still open and obviously used. Donny left and Ralph stripped. His cock was ready for action. It still fit. I was tired and I let Ralph do all the work. He was more than willing. I just relaxed and let the sensations flow. His cock worked its magic. It was magic for both of us. My brief return to virginity was over.
Donny's theories about using sex as therapy seemed to work for me. I saw myself as returning to a regular life. I was working more and my sex life improved. Donny became a permanent fixture at my house. He was retired and didn't want a full time job. I could draw and work the computer, but lifting was a problem. The bones were mostly healed, although they weren't perfect. The main problem was damaged nerves. They were mostly reconnected, but they could fail. I thought of them as having short circuits.
That wasn't a problem with working on the computer or drawing. It was a problem lifting groceries and with driving. Donny would take me to work and my staff would take me to daily appointments. All was fine at work. The theater was turning into a stunning project. I had a call about doing another theater in Norfolk. The museum project was coming along well. Stella was a good client. She was demanding but reasonable. If you explained things to her, she was fine.
John and his crew were hard at work and local celebrities. Bulldozer was the guest of honor at his church for his work with the two-by-four and the rapist. He said this made his mother the happiest woman in the world.
By June I was feeling good. Ralph invited me to his house in the mountains for the Fourth of July. His wife and family were in Europe. He was alone. He knew all of my friends by then and he asked them to come. Donny drove me to the house; we picked up Blackwell on the way.
The house was isolated and sat on a pond. It was an old turn-of-the-century hunting lodge for a Northern millionaire. I had fallen into ruin and Ralph had been restoring the buildings over the last ten years. It was a rustic and imposing, an unexpected combination. John and his crew were already there. Ralph closed the gates behind us. It was a pretty day and not that hot. I was out of the braces and contraptions that had stabilized my shoulder. I was impressively pale since I hadn't been in the sun. Ralph had buckets of sunburn lotion. No one was a beach bunny.
Ralph had sandwiches and beer waiting. There were two men I didn't know. Elton had brought a friend, Elvis, and Bubba brought a cousin, Lamont. Elvis was a computer programmer and about as country as a man could be. That is not exactly true; Lamont made Bubba seem like Fred Astaire. After lunch Bubba got the ball rolling when he jumped into the pond naked.
There was a slow migration into the pond. Elvis made friends by being fully erect by the time he hit the water. Lamont was a good swimmer and he organized some informal races. The race was of the loser sucks the winner sort. That added to the appeal.
I was the last one in, and the races were not in the cards. My arms only had a 90 degree range of motion. I was a good floater, but Donny and John kept a close eye on me. I couldn't paddle but I could kick. The day became warmer, but it was still pleasant.
Elvis came over to chat. He was a technical advisor on the sling Elton made. He was into the fuck machine part of their operation. Apparently Elton tested it on him. I said I preferred real cocks.
"Real cocks are few and far between for me," Elvis said. I told him he was surrounded by tops.
He leaned close to me. "Do you think any of them would do me?"
"I think all of them would be willing to do you!" I said.
"Do what?" Bubba asked. He was closer to us than I thought. He was with Bulldozer.
"Elvis was asking me if anyone he would like to fuck him," I said.
Bubba laughed. "I don't think that would be a problem at all. None of us seems to be very shy. Stay naked and bend over a lot," he advised. "Another top of two would be nice. I'd hate to wear Somerville out! By the way, Lamont told he me might like to learn some new tricks. As far as I can tell, the only trick he doesn't do is taking it in the ass."
I looked around and saw Tommy talking with Lamont. Lamont was about Tommy's age. He was taller and looked a bit goofy due to a Fu Manchu beard and a Mullet. He obvious thought Tommy looked good. I assumed they would work things out. Bubba took over Donny's position watching over me as Donny went off looking for fun.
Elvis was talking with Bulldozer.
[BW1]