Salvation House. 2 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 or bldhrymn@aol.com
Don was in a theological school and I suspected he wasn't the only one there who had a sexual interest in men. I also assumed that fear of discovery was at the core of their sexual lives.
His school offered courses in church music, and that was one of the most popular areas of study. The True Gospel Academy, operated on a financial shoestring, and the success of the music program brought in a good portion of the school's income. The head of the department was Dr. Martin L. Goodman. The L stood for Luther. Goodman admitted students for their musical abilities, not their purity. The students were closer to being normal than those in the theological areas. Goodman got what he wanted since the school would go bankrupt without the Music Department.
Don had an impressive bass voice. He could hit low notes in tune, without sounding like a foghorn. That was important for works that required a bass as the voice of God. He was in the Men's Choir and soon found men who looked him over with impure thoughts.
Goodman was one of those and they soon understood each other. Goodman had a partner in a town fifty miles away. It was far enough away to avoid people from the school, but it was an easy drive. Don told me Goodman wasn't overly strict about monogamy, and they enjoyed each other.
Goodman worried about some of the more flamboyant men in the choir. He and the administration shared a polite fiction about the sexual preferences of the choir. He was afraid there would be an incident that couldn't be hushed up and would ruin the choir. "Some men just need a safety valve to let off some steam," he explained.
God works in mysterious ways, and a month earlier Franklin and Jeremy had purchased the former Centennial Apartment House a half mile from the school for their Universalist Salvation Church. The church was suspect theologically, but that would not bother The True Gospel Academy. It sounded good.
Originally the Centennial Apartment House was a small elementary school. It was partially converted into apartments including single bed sitters, regular one-bedroom apartments and had two areas called the Dorms. They were the former gym and cafeteria. These were single rooms sharing a bath. Originally, one was for women and one for men. The apartment owner claimed these were in the "European Style."
The owner of the apartment planned for it to be a federally subsidized, low income-flop house. The Building Inspector-planning officer of the town was a new university graduate with a degree in city planning. He was 23 and just a kid. The owner planned to ignore him. Tragically the kid was the son of a State Senator. He was more important than the developer. The required renovations were extensive and expensive.
The owner was soon on the verge of bankruptcy and Franklin bought the building for a song. The Centennial Apartments became the Salvation House. Fortunately, the religious association with Universalist Salvation Church was enough to make it unattractive to most people. Word of the sexual intentions of the new owners were known to those who shared the sexual preferences.
I was one of the first residents. I had a small apartment on the first floor. There were six apartments on each floor plus the former gym and the former cafeteria that were dorm spaces. These were very economical.
Franklin and Jeremy knew many older men, and some moved to the Salvation. George, Randy, and Washington were retired men on social security. The apartments were economical. Single gay men tended to be isolated and they had someone to talk to at the Salvation House.
Don lived across from me. Four men from the chorus moved into the Dorm. The dorm bedrooms had doors, so they could be private. The gym's shower room tended to serve as a social center. The developer had found a deal on whirlpool baths, so each dorm shower areas had a whirlpool too.
The former library formed a large lobby with comfortable chairs. The most impressive feature of the lobby was Gilbert, the doorman. Gilbert was a retired policeman and had an eye for people who didn't belong. Two of the residents, Randy and Washington operated a Coffee Shop in the lobby. They made their own coffee, but they served donuts and pastries from a nearby bakery. Herbert, who lived in the dorm, worked at the early shift at the bakery. He went to work at two in the morning and made the delivery at eight.
I had guessed that the older men and the younger men would not get along. Most of the younger guys were inexperienced and not knowledgeable about gay men and gay sex. The older men were experienced and more than willing to introduce the younger men into the wonders of man sex. It worked out well. Publicly, there was nothing to indicate that the Salvation House was saving men from a dreary, sexless life.
While most of the 12 apartments had a shower-tub, four had only a tub. These included Don and my units. We showered in the gym or cafeteria showers. Gilbert, the doorman and Herbert the baker had the other showerless units. While none of us made open sexual advances in the shower rooms, I confess our cocks were not as restrained.
While cocks can't talk, they can make your intentions clear. The gang showers had six shower heads, three on each side of the room. There was a partial wall, projecting two feet between the heads, providing some screening. This was useless as screening but provided a place to work on your erection. Anyone who wanted to look only needed to move a foot from the wall and they could see all.
When I saw the arrangement, I wondered how many men would take advantage of the privacy feature. Rounding off to an even number, zero men hid behind the screening wall. Everyone looked and after a week at Salvation House, everyone exposed their genitals. After two weeks the rear portion of the shower was a preferred location for blow jobs.
Gilbert, Herbert, and Don provided informal advice to many of the less experienced or more sheltered men. Don was handsome. Everyone was interested in him. Gilbert was a huge, bear of a man and he sported a big cock and impressive balls. If you had daddy issues, Gilbert was your man. Herbert was an ugly, friendly, roly-poly man. For guys who thought they were unattractive, they thought would have a chance to get him give them a blow them. Somehow men seemed to think I was a desperate, sexually deprived man. I was also good for a quick blow job.
In many ways we all met the men's preconceptions, but there was a lot more. I was there when Lonnie, one of the shy and slightly scared musicians encountered Gilbert in the showers. Gilbert was a friendly, hardy, outgoing type. I think he and his cock were twice the size of Lonnie. Lonnie played the trumpet, was raised by maiden aunts after his mother took off with a strange man and had lived in a small town.
Gilbert was a foot taller than Lonnie and more than double his weight. Lonnie was trying to look at Gilbert's cock whenever Gilbert looked away.
"We're all boys here, there is no need to be shy," Gilbert said when he caught Lonnie looking. "We all have a natural interest in other guys equipment."
"It's so big." Lonnie mumbled.
"If you're into it, you can make it bigger," Gilbert said. It took Lonnie a few seconds to realize what Gilbert had said, and a few more seconds to get his nerve up, but he bent over and stuck his tongue out in the direction of Gilbert's cock. Gilbert got a little closer. His foreskin pucker touched Lonnie's tongue. They were still for ten seconds or so, then Lonnie started wiggling his tongue, parting the thick foreskin.
"Are you new to this?" Gilbert asked.
"I have done it once before," Lonnie looked up and replied. His tongue returned to the foreskin. Gilbert was getting hard, so the skin was pulling back. Lonnie's tongue was now licking a glob of precum that emerged from the piss slit. Lonnie then took more of the cock. He was obviously excited.
Herbert came in the shower. He was friendly, ugly and did not have a shy bone in his body. I suspected if there were Neanderthal gay men, they would have looked like Herb. He had a normal cock. I eventually discovered he was a master of sucking techniques and had nearly prehensile ass.
Another musician, Dennis, one of the baritones in the choir and Junius, one of Don's friends joined us in the shower. They were in their late twenties. Both became hard when the saw Gilbert and Lonnie going at it. Junius tried to cover his cock with his hand.
"I don't know if they told you this is a really friendly place," Herb said. "If you are shy, don't worry. No one is going to do anything you don't want to do."
"We aren't all exactly old friends," I said. "But somehow most guys make friends easily here."
"I have discovered that even if you get really friendly, no one gets pregnant," Herb added. We all laughed. Herb sucked Junius and I sucked Dennis. Dennis's cock was like a ripe fruit that was at its peak. It took him about thirty seconds to get hard and another minute to start drooling precum. He was softly moaning as I worked his cock.
Junius was whispering, "Stop, it's too much."
Herb looked up. "Too much is what I'm after." He returned to Junius's cock. Junius had a much higher tolerance of cock sucking than he realized. Herb had a chance to use his entire repertoire of cock sucking techniques.
Dennis was enjoying me, and I sensed he was getting close.
"I'm getting close," he whispered.
"Relax and let nature take its course," I said. Junius and Dennis shot off simultaneously. Herb and I took their loads. They were close enough to kiss. That seemed to be enough to induce a few additional ejaculations. We all broke apart. Lonnie, Junius, and Dennis had never had anyone suck them to completion before.
Gilbert, Herb and hadn't swallowed all the cum, so we kissed and sampled the men's home brew. Junius' sperm seemed particularly sweet to me.
The men were all shy and timid, but the atmosphere at Salvation House became more relaxed and friendly. I assumed everyone had a special friend who promised that he would tell anyone about what had happened. If the atmosphere in the House improved, the atmosphere in the showers became free and easy.
It was free and easy compared to the lives of guilt ridden, socially inept, religious fundamentalists. No one admitted how much they enjoyed what became known as "interludes."
Franklin and Jeremy tended to help the men who were most afraid of sex. There were some who had serious mental hang-ups and obsessions. Some of these involved sadism and masochism. Franklin had a clear understanding of the difference between a quirk, a harmless obsession, and a major mental problem.
Some men had a problem with being accepted by their dads. Gilbert was a friendly, helpful Dad type. He was intelligent, helpful and all but permanently horny. A man who was helpful, pleasant, and kind was good. That he was also willing to suck, fuck, be fucked, and be sucked was a revelation to some. Gilbert said the sometimes daddy issues vanished as you sucked a guy's balls dry.
If it was a big problem Franklin sent men to get professional help. Some men didn't want to do that, but the prospect of regular sex at Salvation Hall was very enticing. Franklin was handsome and over sexed. He had a pal, Gustavo, who joined in sexual therapy with troubled men. Gustavo was a huge, crude, former wrestler with a badly scarred face. He was a pleasant man, but he tended to look threatening. Sex with Franklin, Gustavo and a man with major problems was rewarding.
After three months all the rooms at Salvation hall were filled. Fergus McNaughton was in the room next to me. Fergus was technically Father McNaughton. He was sent here from a mid-western diocese to find himself. He was religious, sincere, and gay. He was kind, thoughtful, and helpful. I think he had the misfortune to be in a diocese where any virtues he possessed were erased by being gay. He had a drinking problem related to that.
He was in the dorms since he had an allowance that gave him few options. Many of our residents had a problem with fundamentalist protestant churches. One of our old guys, Barton Hill, was a retired Presbyterian minister. He had some of the same problems as Fr. McNaughton. Hill had been a successful minster of an urban church which had an influx of conservatives. They were a minority, but they were splitting the church. Hill resigned rather that break apart the church.
Barton told me Salvation House had changed his life. He was finally able to integrate his sex life into his daily life. Barton was an ordinary sixty-year-old man. He was in okay shape and his only distinguishing feature was a bushy, white beard. Fergus was forty and was a jogger.
Barton had a pal in the same dorm as Fergus, Nicholas. Nicholas was nicknamed Twinkle-Toes. He had been a dancer in a New York ballet company, and had broken his ankle. He ended up teaching ballet in a local dance school. He was a self-identified flaming fag, but he was wonderful with little girls. One of two of his students made it to a major dance troop, but the others had a wonderful time. There is no retirement program for dance schools, and Nicholas was living on Social Security.
To say Nicholas was flexible sexually understates the case. He could pitch and catch and if you invented a new sexual position, he would be an early adopter. He had nothing in common with Fergus. Barton explained that to Nicholas. He regarded that as a challenge not a problem. He befriended Fergus. They lived in the same dorm and shared the showers.
Nicholas was also friendly and had a great sense of humor. He saw the world in an eccentric way. Fergus couldn't help but laugh with him. He could also tell dirty jokes in a way that didn't seem obscene.
Barton was in the shower with Nicholas giving his cock a tongue bath. Fergus entered. Usually he left if he was sexual activity, but he stayed and watched. Nicholas was a master cock sucker. Don said he could make balloon animals out of a normal man's cock. While Fergus was reserved, he was also gay. Watching Nicholas suck a cock was like watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel.
Fergus was tall and thin. His cock was long, thin, and uncut. Nicholas was short and in great shape. Nicholas didn't need to bend over to suck Fergus's cock. He was also graceful and almost elegant as he worked on Barton's cock. Sex was an art form for Nicholas. It was unlike a quickie in a dark place.
"Could you get a little closer and screen us from the entrance?" Barton asked.
"I should leave," Fergus mumbled.
"We are all friends, we don't mind having a friendly audience," Barton said. Barton shot off shortly thereafter and Nicholas turned his attention to Fergus. I think Fergus allowed his cock to overrule his brain.
Nicholas later told he that he suspected that Fergus had had only known quick blow jobs. He had never experienced, affectionate, considerate sex before.
"Just relax and let Nicholas work his magic," Barton advised. "He knows what he's doing, and he knows what you want. Forget everything other than letting your cock enjoy."
I would have thought that getting Fergus to relax was impossible, but I had forgotten that an erect cock is a difficult organ to ignore. Nicholas worked his magic and a few minutes later Fergus's balls were drained, and his sperm was a nighttime snack for Nicholas.
Fergus came to see me the next day. I had been right in thinking that his sexual contacts had been quick and impersonal. That made it easier for him to reject sex. His rejection was unsuccessful, but it had contributed to his unhappiness with gay sex. He craved it, but it hadn't been that successful.
His experience with Nicholas had been good. I knew from the way he said it that it was much better than good. He didn't know what to do or what he was supposed to feel. He didn't know what Nicholas expected.
I told him that his cock had done all the feeling he needed. It had enjoyed it and when he fed Nicholas his sperm, that was more than enough to keep him happy. He didn't expect more.
"Nicholas likes and enjoys sex. You told him how much you liked it in liquid form." I explained. "I am sure he would like it if you could enjoy his cock as he enjoyed yours. He's not after marriage and life in little cottage surrounded by a picket fence and roses. He likes to have fun."
"Is that all?" Fergus asked.
"That is enough. From my limited experience with him, I can say he would enjoy having your cock up his ass, giving it a rectal massage. He has a tight hole that is enjoyable," I said.
"I know that some guys like that. I'm not sure I could do that," Fergus replied.
"I would recommend that you try to relax and let nature take its course," I said. "Once you've been here a while you will find opportunities. No one here is a predator. Nothing is forced or required. It's all up to you."
Fergus seemed to accept that, but I suspected that it would take him a log time to adjust his thinking. He was trapped by traditional thoughts about sex the featured a dominant man using a servile partner. That was complicated by images of priests using young men. I laughed to myself. Nicholas would be pleased if someone were to think he was young an innocent.