Tyler Virginia
Part 5
by Bald Hairy Man
Email, bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
This is an adult story for adults. It is not intended for minors, nor for persons who are offended by alternate life styles. No effort is made to use safe sexual practices. It's intended to be fun, not a sex manual. The story, Wilson's Hollow, gives some background to this part of the story.
Much to my surprise, Wilburt was true to his word and a damn good fuck to boot. It was gentle and careful. It hurt some, but that was just because of the size of his organ. It did take some getting use to, but it was worth it. I wasn't the most experienced guy in the world, but Wilburt took his time and when he buried his entire cock in my ass, I was one happy guy.
I also should have been embarrassed at being fucked in front of all those guys I didn't know, but I wasn't. They were a friendly group and were all occupied. Everyone was fucking or sucking or being fucked and sucked at the same time. It was a nice group. By the time we left the party at 11:00 I felt like a member of the family.
The funeral the next day was much nicer than I would have guessed. Some flowers appeared. They were from the Tyler Fire Department and the Commonwealth's Attorney. That impressed the hell out of Rusty's relatives. No one had ever done that for anyone else in the family. Everyone was sensible. Rusty took it well, some of the guys remembered nice stories about his Dad, but no one over did it. There was a State Trooper there who came up to Rusty afterwards and said he was sorry. He was glad his Dad had him as a son. At least he had one thing in his life he could be proud of.
We got back home and several people in town had sent him sympathy cards, so it was as good as things could be considering the circumstances. I was glad I had gone with him. I had done a good deed. The Wilsons and Clancies said they'd ask me to the next party, if I was interested. I said I sure was!
I had figured my little group of friends were the only cock suckers in town. It was a real surprise to find out there were more men with similar interests. It was a real surprise, given the character of Tyler.
Tyler sits in the foothills of the Blue Ridge. The site is beautiful, with rolling hills above the clear, spring fed waters of the Randolph River. Everyone says small towns are a good place to bring up children.
In some way that's true, if you ignore the poor job prospects, the lack of any cultural activities other than High School sports and cable television. There also was a pretty consistent problem with alcohol and drug abuse. As in many out-of-the-way places, drinking and getting high was a major form of entertainment.
It was a solidly Baptist town, so the drinking was in the basements and garages. The town was too small to have a bar or a restaurant. Many counties' residents were old time mountain people. They had their own supplies of homemade brew.
Tyler was not a center of liberalism or tolerance. It was mostly white and anti black, anti women and anti gay. As a native I lived a quiet life. As I said, most people thought I was too ugly to get married.
I had been the janitor at the High School for four years when my best friend on the faculty, Sally Whithers, the History Teacher, suggested I join the choir of her church. It was a slightly off-the-wall suggestion. She wasn't overly religious, certainly not at all like some of the born-agains.
She went to St. Andrew's Episcopal Church. It was the one of the bigger non-Baptist churches in the county. I gave Sally a noncommital "maybe" and promptly forgot all about it.
About a week later, I was reading on a rather sleepy Saturday afternoon and someone rang the front door bell. Ringing the bell can mean only one thing in Tyler, Jehovah's Witnesses. Everyone else enters through the garage or back door. I opened the door and found a short, informally dressed man standing there.
"Hello, Are you Carlton Jackson? I'm Jerry Wilson, the organist at St. Andrew's. Sally said you might like to join the choir."
I said, I was Mark and asked him in. I had no interest in joining the choir, but I didn't want to offend Sally.
He went right to my living room and gave it a quick once over. "You collect antiques?" he asked.
"I buy old furniture."
"Well, you've got an eye for it. This is good stuff."
"Thanks," I said. I had a chance to look at him closely. He was 5'-4" or so, in good shape for a man who was 45 to 50. He was wearing a knit sports shirt. His shorts weren't exactly tight fitting, but they weren't baggy Bermudas either.
He looked at me, "Baritone or bass?"
"Somewhere in between, I would guess," I said, "But I'm not sure I'm good enough to be much of either."
"Well, to be completely frank, the Men's Choir at St. Andrew's is a bit open minded on the subject of voice quality. Good attitude we like; we can be a bit flexible on the voice."
"A men's choir?"
"Yes, a left over from our Victorian progenitors. I guess they thought the women could be impregnated by the breath of males. Whatever they thought, we have maintained the tradition. Originally in the 19th century we were a choir of bachelors. Whether they thought they were bachelor virgins, I don't know. We have a number of bachelors in the group even now. The other men would like to be bachelors, if you get my drift."
I offered him a beer; he accepted. When I returned from the kitchen, he was sitting down. I noticed he wore boxer shorts which left little to the imagination. Jerry was hung like a horse. He caught me looking, and he adjusted himself to show his cock and balls to better advantage.
I was wearing loose-fitting shorts and a Hawaiian style print shirts. My Grandparents hated them so I wore them all the time. I liked Magnum as a kid and wanted to dress like the TV detective. I have a hairy chest and if it wasn't for my face and body, I might look like him. Jerry was looking me over too and seemed to be interested.
"The choir is more of a social than a musical organization." Jerry said. "It's a place for men to get together and talk. An affable group of men." He paused. "It's hard to find men who share our . . . interests."
"I am not your type, I think."
"Don't worry about that. We're really friendly. Some of the men are partnered, but they're all open minded." I smiled.
"What exactly do you mean by open-minded?"
"That depends on you." Jerry said. "Some men like to sing, some like the social aspects. Most of the men like the physical closeness." From the way he said the word "closeness" I understood his meaning.
"So close you overlap?"
"Penetrate, might be a better description." Jerry said.
"Really?" I asked.
"I don't want to give you the wrong idea, but penetration would be a good word. Are you offended?" he asked.
"No, just surprised." I said. "It hadn't occurred to me this might be going on in Tyler."
"Interested in joining us?"
"You bet I am." I replied. Jerry was pleased. He told me practice was at 7:00 in the sanctuary of the church. He left, saying he thought I would enjoy the group. I was puzzled and later it seemed to me I must have misinterpreted the conversation. I was interested enough to make it to the church. There I found a group of fifteen men assembled in the sanctuary. It was a pretty Gothic building that looked like a real church, not like the Baptist barns. Most of the men I didn't know, except for Wiley Anders, the Biology teacher-Football Coach and a man I recognized as Judge Jonathan Talliaferro. He was the man who replaced Judge Wilson, when he retired.
The practice was much more enjoyable than I had expected. Jerry introduced me to the men as they came in and all seemed friendly. Jerry was good, real good. I'm not particularly partial to organ music, but he knew his stuff. He also was a good choral director. Some of the men had voices, some didn't. He knew what to do to make the end result respectable. I recognized there was a fine line between being demanding and unreasonable. Jerry knew exactly where that line was. I was next to guy named Jim who was a sound man for a local band. He was tall, bald and bearded and was a strong baritone.
On the other side of me were twins, Russ and Randy. They were two country boys who ran a Tire Recapping business. They had thick accents and were unimpressive looking, rather ratty and unkept, but they had great deep bass voices. Jerry taught them the words as if they were a foreign language to overcome their mountain twang.
We rehearsed for 45 minutes, had some coffee and then put in another 30 minutes. It was enjoyable. Jerry was happy with the evenings' work. "This has been a good session. All be here Sunday at 10:15 for a quick freshening up before the service. Anyone who wants a little stronger refreshment to relax the vocal chords tonight can drop by my house. I've asked Carlton to come by so you can get to know him better." Jerry locked up the building and I followed his car to his house.
He lived about three miles from the church, up the side of Big Buffalo Mountain. His house was remarkably secluded considering how close it was to Tyler. The drive was steep and winding. It ended at a barn which had been converted into a garage. The house was a small but elaborate Victorian, with wrap around porches covered in gingerbread and a large turret on the corner.
Several men were already inside and had set up an informal bar for drinks. Clearly all were old friends. The Judge was there, as was Wiley, Jim and the twins. Luke, a nurse who worked in the UVA hospital, arrived after Jerry and me. The other members of the Choir had gone home.
The house was filled with interesting antiques and other objects Jerry had collected through the years. He had obviously traveled a lot and had good taste. I was talking with the Russ and Randy. When I went to get a drink and returned they had vanished. Jim saw my look of puzzlement and came over to me.
His singing voice was strong, but when he spoke conversationally he had a soft, whisper like voice. "Jerry told you this is a social club too, didn't he?" Jim asked. I nodded. "If you want to really relieve tension, just wander upstairs to the turret room." I must have looked uncertain. "I'm heading up that way, want to come along?" I nodded.
"I don't know if you are into sex play," he said in his whisper. "We're all old friends and I guess you could say we are a bit casual about it. If you are offended or bothered by it, just tell me and we can leave." We went up the stairs. One small lamp lit the upper hall. We went down the hall, then through a door into a small room.
"No clothes beyond this point," Jim said. "Sorry, I should have warned you about that. Is it a problem?"
"Is everyone else naked?" I asked.
Jim laughed quietly. "Oh yes, don't worry. It isn't a trick or a fraternity initiation." He already had his shirt off. I thought I was hairy. But Jim was a gorilla, with hair covering every part of his body except for his tongue and eyeballs. I took my shirt off and dropped my shorts.
"You are a bear," Jim said. "Jerry told me I'd like you." We went into the next room.
The room was in the turret of the house. It was circular, with windows overlooking the town in the distance. The moon was full, so you could see well. There was no other light.
"Welcome to Jerry's turret hide away!" Jerry said. It was dim, but I could see him. I didn't see Russ and Randy. They were on the floor flanking the door. I didn't know they were there until a tongue began licking my cock. I looked down and saw one of the twins sucking me, while the other sucked Jim.
"The twins like to greet new members." Jim whispered. "They're really friendly."
"You're not a new member." I said to Jim.
"To tell you the truth, they like to greet old members too." Jerry said. "They are friendly, but they like sucking cock. Period."
"They seem to be really good at doing that." I said. Whoever was sucking my cock was a master at it. My cock went from being soft to hard in twenty seconds. I hadn't visualized anything as open as this. I had thought about taking my time and hoping for some sexual contact, not anticipating the twin's frontal attack.
"I like cum. You can shoot in my mouth of you want," Russ said to me.
"Do you mind if I take my time?" I asked.
"Shit no, I forgot, it's still early. I would like a squirt or two from your cock when you're ready," he replied.
"I'll keep you in mind." I said. Jerry was watching us. Even in the dim light, I could see his cock sticking straight out, hard as a rock. I bent over and sucked it. It was a monster. He moaned, so I got on my knees in a more comfortable position and sucked him properly. I deep throated him and he moaned. That also seemed to get his cock juices flowing.
"Tell the Judge he can come in now. All is clear." Jerry said to Randy. I stopped sucking and looked up at Jerry, puzzled. "The Judge likes to make sure new members are really into it before he makes an appearance. Once you've sucked a cock, he figures you aren't working for one of his political opponents."
Judge Talliaferro was a tall, distinguished looking man he was about 60 years old, had close-cropped white hair and a bushy white mustache. He was in good shape for a guy his age. He came in with Wiley form the school. I had to admit I never would have guessed Wiley shared my interest in man sex.
In the moon light I could see the Judge's hairy chest and the buff muscles of the Coach. "I didn't know you were a member of the club." Wiley said. "I hadn't guessed."
"Same here, I hadn't guessed." I said. Wiley introduced me to the Judge. The Judge seemed friendly. At first, I wasn't sure he wanted to be with a janitor. Wiley went off and put one arm around my shoulders, and with the other he fondled my balls.
"You've got a nice set there." he said. I felt him out. He was getting hard. "You like to fuck?" he whispered.
"Sure, but I like the bottom better than the top." I whispered back. I felt his cock twitch and get harder.
"Damn, I hit the grand prize." he said. The Judge looked over at Luke and motioned to him. Luke, the nurse came over to us. I didn't know what the plan was, but I soon found out. Luke like to suck and rim, the judge wanted to fuck. They formed a team.