Special Assistant.
Part 6
By Bald Hairy Man e-mail bldhrymn@aol.com or bldhrymn@yahoo.com
This is an adult story intended for adults. It is a fantasy, so I again remind you that I have done away with the requirements of safe sex, and have included no gestures toward common sense either. These are all new stories. Please e-mail me if you have any suggestions or comments.
Marty returned around one and made a lunch of sandwiches. I felt like a tugboat surrounded by battleships, but Bernard and Herbie were easy to talk with, in spite of being well known and I felt comfortable. We were almost finished with lunch when two big men entered the house. One was big; the other was huge.
"Roddy, Gill, I'd like you to meet Jason," Marty said. "He's spending the weekend with us." We shook hands.
"Have you taken to robbing cradles?" Gill asked as he looked me over.
Before Marty had a chance to respond, I replied, "Only if I'm lucky." I got points for being fast and clever. Gill was a dead ringer for Grizzly Adams and the other man, Roddy, looked like the missing link. Gill had a PhD in Biology and was a leading environmentalist. Roddy was the caretaker.
The conversation turned serious and deep. I still felt outclassed, but I could follow it and make a contribution or two. You could classify most of the men, except Gill, as conservative, but none were happy with what was happening in Washington. They were all realists. All were sophisticated men, well educated and well traveled. They all had real world experience and combined their theoretical thinking with a strong sense of the possible.
"Murphy's Law is at the core of real world experience," Herbie said. "If you have a plan dependant on having every thing work right, it's a flawed plan. I don't think every plan can be fail safe, but you need redundancy. Without a back up plan, you're lost."
"I'm terrified we're heading for a military disaster," Admiral Billy said.
"Like Vietnam?" I asked.
"No, much worse. We have control of the air and sea. There are no problems there, but there are no reserves in the Army. Zero," Billy said emphatically. "If Korea or Iran act up, we're in big trouble. The administration treats the troops like shit. They're good on the flag waving and patriotic bull, but when it comes to supplying them, feeding them and giving them rest, they simply don't care. They've turned suppling the troops into a money making venture. Haliburton is a profit driven enterprise."
"As I recall, General McCelland in the Civil War was so concerned about the welfare of his soldiers he couldn't act decisively," Marty interjected.
"You need a balance. I think our approach is more like the British and French Generals in World War I. Our men are cannon fodder, or more correctly roadside bomb fodder. In World War I, they had to deal with mutiny," Billy said.
"Problems of that sort have been minor in this war," Herbie said.
"We're in a war without end," Billy said. "The President keeps on saying our increasing casualties are a sign of our success. That's not comforting to the man or woman in the field."
"Are increased causalities unusually a sign of success?" Roddy asked. The men looked at him and burst out laughing.
"Roddy, my boy, you have hit the nail on the head. By the President's calculation we will achieve final success when the enemy has killed our last man," Bernard said.
"Talk about a morale booster!" I said. "That makes the Little Big Horn a success. We should make Custer into our greatest General."
I knew from my time in the White House, the administration thought anyone who opposed them was unpatriotic and helping the enemy. I thought all of their opponents were Democrats. Here, I was talking with some high powered Republicans and they weren't happy. The conversation continued for another half hour, then Marty announced it was time to play.
"The pool is open and ready for fun," he said.
"I'm not sure my body's ready for sunlight," Bernard said.
"None of us are bathing beauties, except Gill and Jason. You're my guest and you have fun, damn it!" Marty exclaimed. "I've got enough sun screen to take care of all your worries." Marty was use to being obeyed. We all did. The pool was to the side of the house and was new.
"I still don't think my body's ready for prime time," Bernard muttered.
Marty got close to him and whispered. "Let's just say, everyone here has the same interest, and the part of your body they're interested in is just fine."
Bernard looked around and stared at me. "Hot damn!" he said.
"Is skinny dipping okay?" Gill asked. He didn't wait for an answer. He stripped naked and jumped into the pool. Roddy was right behind him. Naked, Roddy looked more like the missing link than he did in clothes. He must have been 6-5 and 300 pounds of solid beef. Everyone else stripped and jumped in.
Bernard was the last one in. "If this doesn't look like a Beach Party movie gone bad! Frankie and Annette would be appalled," he said. "You're going to clog the pool filters with the hair!"
"Stop whining, Moon Doggy and jump in!" Marty ordered. Bernard obeyed. Everyone was hairy and beefy, except me. Gil looked like a Norse God, Odin or Donner. He was the golden boy. Herbie liked a bit like Santa. With his white beard he would have made a good department store St. Nick if you added a paunch. Bernard was stocky and thick. He looked solid. He obviously didn't lift weights, but he must have exercised some.
Marty swam laps and I tried to keep up with him. During a rest period, I lounged on the edge of the pool and talked with Bernard. He seemed relaxed, now he was in the water.
"Ever since he had a heart attack, Marty's been obsessed with exercise," Bernard said. "I don't know how long you've known Marty, but if he exercises, all of his friends do too."
I smiled. "He's leadership material. Do you live in D.C.?"
"Nope, I'm a full time faculty member at Penn," Bernard replied. "I live on the Main Line. Marty has all the makings of a nagging Jewish mother, but without the subtlety," Bernard said. "My mother is the real thing. Marty's a wonder. How did you meet him? You're not his type." He paused and smiled. "Sorry about asking that, there's a lot more of my Jewish mother in me than I want to admit." He looked me in the eye. "By the way, you are my type."
"I don't know if I have a type yet," I replied. "I seemed to have liked just about everyone I've met." I liked Bernard, but obviously he was embarrassed at his looks. He looked masculine rather than handsome or pretty. It seemed that odd a man as accomplished and successful as he, would fall for the Hollywood version of male beauty. I moved and accidentally bushed against him. I turned the accident into a grope. Bernard had a classic, fireplug cock. It was almost as wide as it was long with a big, flared head. Bernard looked surprised, then grateful.
Glancing around the pool I saw we weren't the only ones who were playing. While all was placid above the water's surface, below there was activity. "Are you all playmates?" I whispered to Barnard.
"I guess you could say that," he replied. "Marty is the common thread. He had a wide range of acquaintances. We're all closeted, but he's careful. We can trust his judgement. You can't believe how good it feels to let your hair down and just have fun."
"Believe me, I can," I replied. A gigantic animal wandered up to the pool.
"Puffball!" Roddy exclaimed.
"What in hell is that?" I asked.
"He's an Irish Deerhound," Roddy replied. "He's a combination intrusion alarm and enforcer." The animal jumped into the pool. "He also likes water." Roddy said as he swam over to me and Bernard. He put his arms around both of us. "Let Puffball make friends first."
"What happens if he doesn't like me?" I asked.
"You don't want to know," Roddy said, then he let out a belly laugh. Once the animal saw me in Roddy's arms all was well. I got out of the water and sunned myself. Bernard joined me. True to his word, Marty had a tube of sun screen and I rubbed it into Bernard's very white skin. Puffball got out at the same time. He came over to me, licked my cock and then whet off.
"Damn you've trained that dog well," Gill said to Roddy.
"I didn't train him to do that," Roddy said. "He's a damn observant dog!" There was more laughter. Roddy got out of the pool. When he jumped in, I had been so struck by his coat of curly hair. I hadn't noticed his cock. It was in scale with his body, a monster. With Marty and the Admiral it was a horse hung convention.
It was a beautiful afternoon, Marty and Herbie had flown in from LA that morning, so they went off to have a nap. I was sharing a bedroom with Bernard. We took a nap too, but we didn't get any sleep. Since Rolf had been away for the week, I had a build up of lustful urges needing expression.
It didn't take me long to sense Bernard had several months of pent up lust. Bernard and I had a great time. He wanted me and I was flattered. I found out younger men turned him on, but as a professor he felt that getting it on with any of his students was unprofessional and immoral. I was close enough to college age to hit the spot for him.
He was mostly oral and was perfectly happy to suck me without me doing anything. I only needed to stay hard and shoot off. That had never happened to me before and it was a good experience. He did all the work and I let nature take its course. I shot off the first time after ten minutes of sucking, twenty minutes for the second orgasm and thirty for the third. Truthfully, I had no idea I could have a third. I felt guilty about letting Bernard do all the work, but he loved it.
My cock got really sensitive after the third and I made him 69. Precum covered his fire plug cock. Some had dried; some was still fresh. Bernard had the widest piss slit I had encountered and I forced my tongue into it. I know it isn't possible, but I had the sensation of penetrating deep into his shaft. When I did that, he shot off. He must have been saving up for weeks. When he stopped shooting, he was asleep.
Marty woke us up an hour later. Dinner was ready. Dinner was a traditional summertime barbeque, very simple and very good. Everyone was mellow and relaxed. Herbie wanted to know what I knew about Randall and I told him. I was sure he knew most of the story, but I think he wanted to hear it first hand. He wasn't interested in hearsay.
"Who in the White House would need to pay for sex." Bernard asked. "Say what you will about Bill Clinton, but he never had to pay."
"As I recall, Ms. Tripp was launching sluts in his direction," Admiral Billy said. "Clinton never hid his interest in women. Bill was 100% heterosexual. He wasn't threatened by gay men."
"Do you think most of the anti Gay men are uneasy about their own sexuality?" I asked.
"Many are, I think," Herbie said. "However, I think some may be like the old time segregationists. You could be a dirt poor, red neck in rural God Knows Where, and while things were bad, at least he was white. If you started treating black people like human beings, then you didn't even have that. Black equality was a threat. Gay rights are a problem for the same people. They may not be much, but at least they're straight."
"I think it may be part of a longing for times that never were," Gill said. "The anti abortion people long for the days of orphanages and boy's homes. At one time priests checked church doors for baskets with abandoned babies throughout the night. Who knows how many women died giving birth in secret?"
"The historical problem with homosexuality in government was blackmail," Bernard said. "That hasn't been as much of a problem in the last two decades, but it is a problem for this administration. They made "traditional" family values and anti homosexuality into a campaign issue. It seems they may be hoisted by their own petard."
"What's a petard?" Roddy asked.
"It was a small bomb," I said. Everyone looked at me oddly. "I'm an English major. Shalespeare used the phrase in Hamlet. It means to have a scheme back fire."
"You win the top award in tonight's Trivial Pursuit game!" Marty said.
"I had guessed it meant getting fucked by your own cock," Roddy said.
"Damn close," I said. "My cock won't reach that far."
"Roddy's will," Gill said.
"Not when it's hard," Roddy complained. "It might reach, but it won't bend. It's not good for anything but aim, unless it's hard."
The conversation continued speculating on the identity of Randall's patron. The assumption was the man must have been a part of the inner ring of advisors from the President's home state. D.C. or even East Coast men would have their own contacts in the gay world. "They would need to hire a hooker," the Admiral said.
"Wouldn't you know the local contacts?" I asked.
"Not necessarily," the Admiral replied. "There are many gay men who want to be discrete. 99% of their partners want exactly the same thing. It goes from the top to the bottom of the armed forces. If you are reasonably careful, it's fine."
"Do lower ranked men try to take advantage of it?" Gill asked. "I've had students come onto me to get a good grade."
"Not in my experience," the Admiral replied. "Good sex is enough for most men. If there's an ulterior motive, you can usually tell."
"You're right about that. Hero worship is another problem though," Gill said.
The Admiral laughed. "I'm too ugly to have that problem," he said. "Even those who worship power draw the line when they see me."
"I scare guys," Roddy said.
"That's what I like about you," Marty said. "When you're nearby there's no trouble. I have to say you have the least desire to bully of any man I've ever met."
"It's funny, my youngest brother's a real shrimp, less than five feet tall," Roddy said. "Bullies went after him in school. I put a stop to that, but I got to hate guys who do that. Some men are big or mean and think they can treat people like dirt. They like to show off, and scare the smaller guys and nerds. There's always one problem with that."
"What's that, Roddy?" I asked.
"There's always one guy bigger and meaner than you."
"Are you that guy?" I asked.
"Nope, but I can do a fucking great imitation of a big, mean guy," Roddy replied. He smiled "I solved some problem for my brother. It's odd, but no one ever came to help the bully I was beating the shit out of. Not once."
"Did you ever get in trouble doing that?" Gill asked.
"Almost once. The Principal saw me taking care of Monty Smith," Roddy said. "I thought my goose was cooked. Monty ran to the Principal and told on me. The Principal told him, " He needed to be more careful, that was a bad fall you took." Monty was good after that."
"That our problem internationally. We're the biggest and meanest guy in town and we can do what we want." Marty mused. "We don't need friends or allies. We don't need the truth on our side either."
"I get the feeling they think the laws of nature are bendable to their will," Gill said. "Global warming doesn't apply to us, only to lesser nations. As far as they're concerned the laws of gravity are the "guidelines" of gravity. Physical reality is for the weak."
"That may be, but follow the rules set out by the greatest of all Americans, Deep Throat, follow the money," Herbie said. "Vast sums of money are vanishing into the pockets of friends. No one is more in favor of free enterprise that I, but free enterprise relies on laws. A fair price for a good product is one thing, but what is going on now is stealing."
"I just realized something," I exclaimed. "Randall's patron isn't hiring a whore. He's encouraging small business!" Everyone burst into laughter.
"Well, if he's a male hooker, I sure hope his business isn't that small!" Herbie added. The conversation continued in this vein for the rest of the evening. I hadn't laughed that much in years. It was 11:00 when we went to bed. The group had split up into groups and we all wandered off to bed.
I was in the room with Bernard when someone knocked on the door. It was the Admiral. "Jason, I got a little problem," he whispered. "I'm trying to get together with Gil. He and Roddy are friends and Gill wants Roddy to have a playmate. Well, Roddy's a top, and there aren't many who can take it."
"And I came to mind?" I said. I spoke sternly, but when he looked at me I smiled.
"I was hoping you could help us out?" the Admiral asked. "Roddy's quite an experience." I looked back into the room. Bernard was in the shower. Admiral Billy smiled. "Don't worry. Bernard and Roddy get along well. Bernard's all oral, you may get quite a work out, but it will be fun for all of you." He didn't wait for my answer. Roddy walked up and came in the room. The Admiral left.
Roddy enveloped me in a bear hung. "You don't look like you can take it, but Billy says you can," he said. "I'll be real careful." Bernard came into the room, naked and drying himself off.
"Roddy!"
"Bernie, I was hoping we could all have a good time tonight?" Roddy said.
"Oh yes!" Bernard exclaimed. Roddy dropped his robe and a second later we were all sucking.
"Damn, your cock is almost too big to suck," Bernard said to Roddy.
"Don't worry, Bernie, I have a plan for that," Roddy said. Roddy did have a plan. He came with lubricant and I found out Bernard liked poppers. He had the pure amyl nitrate in glass ampules. With lots of lube and a few sniffs of the amyl, Roddy got in easily.
At least I think it was easy. Once half his rod was in, I was out of it. When I could think again, I was sitting on his lap skewered on his cock. He had my legs spread wide, so my cock was fully available to Bernard. Bernie was sucking me and licking Roddy's balls. I am a good 170 pounds, but Roddy could lift me up until only his cock head remained in my ass. Then he lowered me back onto his cock.
When Roddy balanced me on his knob, Bernard would lick Roddy's shaft and once and a while would try to get his tongue into my ass with Roddy's monster. He didn't get very far in that effort but he enjoyed it.