Thirty-Fifth Reunion 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 winarch47@yahoo.com
While Thad looked like a man who had been living in the forest alone for twenty years, it turned out his operation had multiple branches. He was a successful businessman. He had found a specialty market that was profitable. He provided old growth wood for custom furniture. He worked with the state forestry agencies to harvest damaged and dead trees and clear them from the forest. Old growth trees die, he cleared them and marketed their rare old growth wood.
As a general rule lumber jacks aren't delicate types. A local television station did a program on harvesting rare woods. This was almost delicate, environmentally sensitive work. The program was titled as "Artists in Lumber." It won an award and had featured Thad's men. They were proud of their work.
The party at Thad's house was a mixture of old pals and lumber jacks. Thad lived in a turbo charged log cabin in the woods. The food was good and plentiful. Thad provided a wide selection of unusual beers which were much appreciated.
The guests were mostly big, strong and they were attractive to me. It was the least all-gay looking group of men I had ever seen. A rather beefy friend of mine remarked that whales and walruses are great swimmers too. He was a beefy, muscular, gay man. Lumber jacks tend to be beaten up due to heavy work they do. While they look used, they also are muscular and in good shape. As a real estate man in New York, these weren't the sort of men I encountered often, and I didn't expect to be so turned on.
I was hoping to connect with some of the men, but I was afraid I was very much not their type. That turned out to not be a problem. I had a nice cock, but somehow the men discovered I liked the bottom. That was not strictly true. The real surprise was that I admitted I liked the bottom. That was rare but desirable in most of lumberjacks' experience.
I am an accommodating man and soon realized being a bottom was a much appreciated trait. While the men liked to top, they weren't use to bottoms who appreciated their sexual skills. Thad was watching and he told the men to massage my rectum, not fuck it. I was far more demonstrative than they expected. That excited them, but after the first man shot off in me, they discovered they liked fucking a man who had been fucked by a buddy and whose sperm lubricated my ass. At one point I worried there was a chance my ass would wear out. Much to my surprise that was not a problem. Most of the men rarely had a chance to take their time fucking. I liked that as much as they did.
One of the older men, Jeff, told me it had been a long time since he had fucked a man. Jeff was nearing sixty and had the scars to show for it. That is old for a lumber jack. His uncut cock nestled in his hairy groin.
As he poked it in my hole, he said, "Don't worry. I don't shoot off much any more."
"Don't worry about that. Fucking is good with or without sperm," I said. Jeff smiled. I soon realized he had no problem getting hard and he had a stealth cock. It looked average, but grew.
After a few minutes Jeff moaned, "I'm afraid I'm going to shoot!"
"Conquer your fears. Fill me up!" I replied. Jeff had already shot off his first ejaculation. He tried to pull out but I stopped him. It was a spectacular climax. When the ejaculations stopped he tried to pull away a second time.
"Leave it in," I said. "I want to milk every drop from your cock." There is nothing more intimate than shooting your cum deep in a guys ass. I felt warm all over. He smiled in pleasure. He didn't expect me to want his load. We were both happy men.
That episode firmly established me as a good guy and a good sport. It was good for Jeff too. The men liked him, but he was an old, ugly coot. He was now a well-hung, sperm shooting, ugly coot. As the men unloaded deep in my ass, I felt an unexpected combination of exhibitionism and intimacy. We all had a good time. Everyone was pleasant, cheerful and over sexed.
I went home the next day and resumed my retired life. I found myself thinking a lot about my reunion visit. Until the reunion my life was quiet and pleasant, but there was little excitement. It was a good life, but there was no drama or excitement. I am a conventional guy, but after my reunion experience I realized that I seemed to have adapted well to non-conventional experiences.
Thad sent me a letter saying he and his friends enjoyed my visit and he hoped I would visit again. Tom-Tom also sent me a note thanking me for my advice his house and saying he enjoyed meeting me.
Tom-Tom was working in selling his house and he asked if I knew an architect who could do a survey of the house. I told him I had a retired architect friend, Steven Thomas, who did that sort of work. He specialized in historic work. I said he was a bit eccentric, but was knowledgeable.
"Do you think he would get along with me?" he asked.
"Actually, he's rather fastidious, but he has a soft spot for macho men," I said. "He has a good sense of humor, and is open minded." I paused. "We've been playmates once and a while." Steven had been in Boston for two years to help his daughter when she got sick. He's back in town, but I suspect he would like get back into architectural consulting." Thad said he would like to show him the house.
Two weeks later Steven and I were back in the B&B's extra cottage. Steven was average and conventional in every way. He was five-ten and 170 pounds. He had grown a beard since I had last seen him. His grand kids got him the play Santa at their church. Steven would never wear anything fake, so he grew a luxuriant beard. Oddly most people thought it was fake it was so perfect.
We had dinner with Thad, Tom-Tom, and Jeff. Thad had hit his head got a concussion and had vision problems. Jeff was playing chauffeur. I had sent Steven a photograph of the house. He did some research and identified several men who might had designed the house. That impressed Tom-Tom greatly. He told us that he thought there were early drawings somewhere in the house.
Jeff was listening and told us his grandfather had worked on the construction of the house. He said that his grandfather had met the architect, who was a dandy, city-slicker and they called him Ruddy, or something like that. That excited Steven. One of the possible architects was named Rudyard Thompson.
Steven was impeccably dressed and had perfect manners. I knew Steven was attracted to rough trade, but he was too timid to make a pass. For Steven, I was rough trade. I bought my suits off the rack at Brooks Brothers. Steven wore handmade suits. Jeff was 100% redneck, but he was also an affable man. Jeff was wearing Wall-Mart's best. I assumed Jeff was off the charts as rough trade. I was wrong about that. They immediately bonded.
Thad, Tom-Tom and I were exchanging glances. Jeff took the direct approach, he unzipped. Before he had a chance to pull his cock past the zipper. Steven was on his knees waiting for Jeff's cock's appearance. Five minutes later we were all naked and going at it.
I was occupied with Thad and Tom-Tom. I was sixty-nining with Thad as Tom-Tom's cock entered my ass. Jeff quickly discovered that Steven liked it in his ass, and Jeff's thick tool was a perfect fit for Steven's hole. Jeff was just aggressive enough to excite Steven but he was a gentle as he could be with his thick cock.
Steven's two years in Boston had been a sexual desert. He was ripe and ready. Jeff's body was scarred and bruised from his work, but it was all muscle. Jeff wasn't the delicate type, but he wasn't into pain or humiliation. Steven was into shooting off, but he liked long sessions. It was a dream come true for Steven.
Thad and Tom-Tom liked long sessions. Most men in the area were into quickies. Thad told me that some guys thought if you could shove your cock in an ass, pound as hard as you could and then shoot off in less than three minutes, it wasn't really gay sex. My friend Butch was a cop and he was open minded, so the cops weren't a problem anymore. I think the real problem was admitting you were gay, and admitting you wanted a relationship was more of a problem.
Our frolic at my room was a success. And after a half hour of fun everyone had shot off and my guests left. I slept well. I woke at seven and Steven was preparing to make breakfast.
"I seem to have gotten carried away by Jeff last night. Was that a problem? I didn't mean to avoid you," Steven said.
I smiled. "Don't worry, Thad and Tom-Tom took care of my needs," I said. "They are all good guys."
"Jeff isn't my type, so I don't know what got in to me," Steven said.
"I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I have a suspicion that Jeff is your type," I said. "You and I have had a lot of fun, but I have a feeling sex with Jeff was a few steps up in pleasure for you."
"He shot off in me. It was beautiful," Steven said. "I didn't expect that. Does taking another man's sperm bother you?"
"We are friends, friends with benefits, that doesn't give me ownership," I said. "I lived in a world of clients and businessmen. When you are selling upscale houses to wealthy people, you don't run into many ordinary guys. The jobs and incomes are different, but the anatomy is the same and sometimes the attitude is better."
Steven laughed. "If god were just, he would make all wealthy men well hung," he remarked.
"I believe god is just, and he is no fool. He distributes his gifts evenly," I said.
"I don't remember my minister preaching that," Steven said.
"Do unto other as you would have them do unto you?" I suggested.
"Is there any chance we might encounter some doing unto others today?" he asked.
"Off hand I would say there is a pretty good chance," I replied. "Thad and Tom-Tom are friendly men. Their friends are friendly too. All their friends are not as pretty as Jeff, but they share the same interests."
"You wouldn't tell anyone about this, would you?" Steve asked.
"There is nothing to tell," I replied. "This is a business trip to look at an unusual house," I said. I was surprised he asked the question, then I remembered Steve was Steve. He was entirely comfortable with his architectural judgments, but clueless about interpersonal relationships outside of the office.
Thad, Tom-Tom and Jeff picked us up at ten. As soon as Steven looked over the house, he said it had all the characteristics of a house by Rudyard Thompson. Thompson had worked for Louis Sullivan, and went out on his own when Sullivan's drinking problem got out of hand. Since Thompson worked away from Chicago, he was little known. As we looked, Tom-Tom and Jeff went looking for possible drawings inside the house.
When Steven went in the house, he exclaimed, "Holy shit! It's perfect!" Steven didn't swear. When I had seen the house before the furniture was covered in drop cloths and the electricity had been turned off. The lights were on now. The furniture was visible. The house was dusted, cleaned and polished. Tom-Tom worked in sawdust all day long. When he went home, he liked his houses spic and span. The house glowed. Tom-Tom opened all the windows. Sunlight and fresh air transformed the house.
"I think the architect designed the furniture and the wall stenciling paper. This is the original interior," Steven said. "This is unique."
Steven's knowledge of architectural history was encyclopedic. Mine was more modest, but I knew this was exceptional. I didn't know exactly how that effected the value of the house. The Retreat was no longer a house, it was a work of art.
Jeff was off in the garage with Thad. His grandfather had lived there when Jeff was young. Jeff's grandfather had a locked closet where he stored documents related to the house. Jeff knew where he kept the key. Neatly stored in a tin box were the drawings for the house, signed by Rudyard Thompson, Architect.
We spent most of the day in the house, looking and exploring. The house was not air conditioned, so by 3:30 it was too hot to get any real work done. We went to the pond to relax and cool off.
By then Washington, Doofus and Little Willy joined our group. In the summer their working hours were from seven in the morning to three thirty in the afternoon. This meant they were off by the time the day was too hot to get heavy work done. Dennis came by. His wife was at a family cottage on a lake. With Thad, Tom-Tom, and Jeff we had a nice group sitting around the pond.
I knew that the men were used to skinny dipping. I assumed Steven would adjust to the situation. While Steven was up tight. I hoped that eight naked men would be inspirational. That was true, but the men were interested in the discoveries about the house and Steven was interested in the rare woods they were harvesting. He knew some furniture designers who would be interested. They seemed to get along well.
When a few of the men stripped and went to the pond, it seemed to be natural. I had known Steven for years and we had a sexual connection for years. I was hoping that skinny dipping with a bunch of guys he hardly knew would excite him. It shouldn't have been a surprise that a gay man might find naked cocks to be inspirational.
I didn't need to worry. His professional persona vanished and his sexual needs and desires took charge. I had a suspicion that Jeff might have told his friends that Steven was a good sport. I had planned to stick close to Steven, but somehow Little Willy caught my attention. He was younger than my usual sexual partners, cheerful and willing.
I found out that Willy wanted to expand his sexual repertoire, and he thought I was the guy to help him. I first sucked his cock. It responded enthusiastically. We then sixty-nined. He loved that. Somehow Dennis replace him in the sixty-nine position so that Little Willy could explore my ass. Willy's cock seem larger in my ass than in my throat. It was good for me, but seemed to be much better for Dennis who was sucking my cock as he watched Willy's cock vanish into my ass.
While I couldn't see what was going on, Dennis's cock came to life oozing precum. I could taste Dennis' excitement. Dennis was not particularly emotional, but his cock was dripped excitement. The three of us came close to shooting off simultaneously. We took a quick dip into the pond, but quickly returned to the action.
Steven was coupled with Tom-Tom and Washington. I was afraid that Steven would be uneasy with anyone who didn't have a professional or advanced degree. Tom-Tom's cock was in Steven's mouth as Washington stretched his asshole. It looked as if Steven was sucking Tom-Tom at the same rate that Washington was pounding his ass. You could see Washington going deeper into the ass. All was well.
After our dip in the pond, Jeff was mounting Dennis. Thad was giving my ass a good review to Washington. He also provided advice about getting into my ass.
Doofus could be described as a Mega-Redneck. He was graceless and could be a bit crude. He was never nasty or mean. It turned out that the week had been hot and he was exhausted and fell asleep shortly after dinner. His balls were fully loaded. Steven was excited by the crude man.
Doofus was complaining that his balls were over filled and he hoped some one would open his ass for him. Steve was near him. He perked up and Doofus noticed.
"Any chance you are interested?" Doofus asked.
"It's awfully thick," Steven said.
"I have my ways. Guys tell me it's big but worth it," Doofus said. "I squirt like a fire hose. Guys seemed to like that a lot. They might not be exactly truthful, but most come back for more."
Doofus had an odd redneck charm, and soon his cock eased it's way into Steven's ass. It would be an understatement to say he enjoyed it. While Doofus was a bit sex-crazed. His orgasm was as he described it. He was also a nice guy and he liked repeat performances.
It was getting late and the men had to get dinner. Sex can be a substitute for a sleeping pill, so the group broke up. Steven and I wen to a good restaurant for dinner. Steven was excited about discovering that house was by Rudyard Thompson.
Rudyard was listed as a minor associate of Louis Sullivan. "Since the decorative interior of the house survives, I have to wonder how much of Sullivan's interiors were designed by Rudyard." he asked.
"Could it be the other way around?" I asked.
"Sullivan was not the sort of man to avoid praise," Steven explained. "If he did the work, he would claim credit." I smiled to myself. The same thing could be said about Steven.
We had a taxi take us to our room. I was tired. Steven wanted to talk.
"Did I make a fool of myself with Doofus?" I asked. "He's not my type at all."
"Doofus is an honest, hard working guy. He's not after anything other than so fun," I said. "I have a feeling that if you only want sex if it is dignified and refined, you may miss most of the enjoyment of sex. By the way, I think when a guy shoots off his load in my mouth or ass, it may be undignified, but it's exciting as hell. Spurting cocks aren't elegant or refined looking. Taking sperm than had been in a guy's balls a second before is incredibly exciting."
"It's messy," Steven said.
"Not if you take every drop and swallow," I said.
"I would take yours," he said in a near whisper. "Is having Doofus' cock up my ass this afternoon a problem?"
I smiled. "I think it's more of an asset than a problem. Steven, we now have a plan for tonight's entertainment."
Something unexpected happened that night. For the first time since I first knew Steven, he relaxed during sex. Normally he was like an over compressed spring, or a time bomb waiting to go off. This time we sucked each other, sixty-nined, and then fucked.
When his cock slid into my ass he was both rock hard and relaxed. After ten minutes of anal massage, he shot off. I had a feeling he enjoyed his orgasm. The next morning, I fucked him. For the first time my cock slid into him like a warm knife through butter. Once I was in, he tightened his sphincter and caressed my cock until I shot off. He moaned as I injected me man seed into his ass. He asked me to stay in his hole until every drop of sperm was in his ass.
Steve was a new man.