Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2012 18:07:03 -0700 (PDT) From: Bob Archman Subject: The Storm The Storm 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 any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com If you enjoy these stories, please consider making a donation to Nifty. The storm came out of nowhere. I left Richmond on a bright, sunny day and there wasn't even a suggestion of bad weather. I was in the middle of the Blue Ridge Mountains when the rain started. An 18-wheeler jackknifed on I-81 and I took an exit onto a side road. When a tree blew over, I took a minor road and I ended up in the middle of nowhere. I later found our rain was falling at three to four inches per hour. Every gully turned into a raging torrent. One of the torrents pushed me off the road, but fortunately, it shoved my car into a tree. I was able to get out. I found something that looked like a driveway, and I went looking for some shelter. It had been a hot day, but the rain was ice cold and I was completely soaked and shivering. After fifteen or twenty minutes, I saw a light. It vanished in a heavy downpour, but I slowly walked in the general direction of the light. The light reappeared and I was on the porch of a mountain shack. It had all the architectural character of a B level horror movie set. I wasn't sure if I should knock on the door, but I was so cold by then I decided to take the chance. I knocked. Nothing happened. I knocked again. Someone cracked the door and a face and a shotgun appeared. "What do you want?" a deep voice asked. "My car washed off the road," I said. "I'm cold." Another face appeared. "He sure is wet," the other man said. "Let him in." The door opened and I was in. The room was dark with only a single candle giving light, but it was warm. The two men were both huge and beefy and neither was much into shaving. At first, I thought they were wearing sweaters. As my eyes adapted to the dark, I saw the sweaters were a thick layer of hair. They were gorillas, very hairy gorillas. There was a pot bellied stove in the corner. "Take off your clothes. We can hang them up to dry," one of the men said. "I'm Skeeter. This is my cousin, Bubba." "I'm Charles," I replied. "I'll keep my clothes on; they'll 'dry out." "You'll catch your death of cold," Bubba said. "Strip, we're all boys here. Don't be shy!" Bubba didn't exactly order me to strip, but he expected to be obeyed. I stripped. I'm not a small man, but I felt like a dwarf next to the big men. Skeeter went to get a blanket. They didn't seem to have towels. I was down to my jockeys. "Take it all off," Bubba said in a menacing voice. I obeyed. "Damn, Charlie has a big one!" Skeeter said. "It's nice and big." I was feeling uncomfortable by then, but Skeeter wrapped me in the blanket. "This will keep you warm," he said. "Where did you go off the road?" I described the location as well as I could. They were interested and we had a good conversation about the storm. They didn't have a radio or television, but they knew the mountain well. "You're going to be here for a while. If Otter Creek is flooding, most of the road is gone too," Bubba said. "Was I at Otter Creek?" I asked. "It sure sounds like it," Bubba said. "My cell phone isn't working here," I said. "Maybe it will work when the rain stops." "You are five miles from anyplace that has cell reception," Skeeter said. "If the roads out, it will be week before you can get out," "Don't worry; we've got lots of food. You'll be fine," Bubba added. "I need to get back to work," I protested. "I think you're going to have a vacation," Bubba said. By this time I realized Bubba's voice wasn't threatening, it was his normal tone of voice. The rain continued. The downpours diminished, but the rain continued. The cabin was well located and we weren't in danger for the rushing water. It was cold outside, but warm in the cabin. Bubba gave me a sandwich and I almost fell asleep. When I woke, the two men were asleep. Again, I thought I might make an escape, but when I looked out the window, I saw the storm was still raging. I was trapped. I looked at Skeeter and Bubba. They were less intimidating when they were asleep. Bubba was naked. His fur coat was continuous from his beard to his toes. His balls vanished in his pubic bush. His cock stood out. It was hairless, uncut and it looked big, even soft. The skin covered the organ, but there was an oversized lump near the pucker. The pucker was slightly open as if the cock head was so big it couldn't close up. I normally don't like uncut cocks, but Bubba's bulge turned me on. He shifted a little. Something glimmered briefly in the open pucker. I had an urge to get my tongue into it and taste it. It could have been piss, but somehow I was pretty sure it was something sweeter than that. I don't think of myself as your typical gay man who gets excited by every cock he sees, but Bubba looked good. Normally, I tend to be attracted to businessmen or professionals who spend a lot of time at the Gym. I like men smooth, slim and toned. I wasn't attracted to working men like Bubba at all. For some reason, I was getting hard. "Bubba has a nice one, doesn't he?" Skeeter asked in a whisper. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Charlie, you're showing a hard!" Skeeter said, smiling. "Don't be embarrassed, we're like them 'em hard. Shit, who doesn't like a hard cock?" I felt like a little boy who had been caught looking at a Playboy. I smiled. "I guess you are right about that," I replied. "Mine is nice too," he said. "It's not as nice as Bubba's, but it's nice." "It's hard to have a bad cock," I said, "As long as they work they are fine with me." "We don't have a TV here so Bubba and I have a lot of fun with our cocks," Skeeter said. "We aren't fags, but we like to mess around. I think we've done just about everything two guys can do." He paused. "Now if there was a third cock to play with, we might find something new." "I'm not into that." "Charlie, you are awfully hard to be uninterested," Skeeter said. He reached over and stroked my cock. I shivered and my cock twitched. "You guys are really big," I said. That was not exactly the firm and strong no I expected to say. Skeeter laughed. "We promise not to roll over and crush you!" I laughed nervously. "That is a load off my mind." "Do you like cock play as much as we do?" Skeeter asked. "How about ass play?" "I admit I like cock play sometimes, but I'm not sure I like it as much as you do," I said. "I'm not so sure about ass play." "I understand," Skeeter, said, "I had a bad time when I was a kid. A friend of my Uncle fucked me bad. He was a big boy and he almost ripped me a new one. When Bubba found out he made that fucker regret what he did. It took a long time for me to get over it." "Skeeter likes it all now, I teached him how to take a cock, nice and easy," Bubba said. He was awake. "It took a while, I was real careful like. It's been a long time since I buried my cock in a new ass. Skeeter is good, but a little variety would be nice." Bubba was semi-erect and that did nothing to diminish my interest. The foreskin hadn't fully retraced yet but I could see the tip of his head. He was still oozing something. My oldest playmate, Lonnie, had almost no precum and he always warned me when he about to pop. I've tasted his sperm a few times, but never actually taken it. It wasn't gross, but it wasn't that good. Neither he nor I was interested in cum or precum. Bubba's ooze excited me. "Do you feel like messing around a little?" Skeeter asked. "Can I say no?" I asked. "You sure can, but we'd have to doubt your sincerity," Bubba said. "You are nice and hard, too hard to pretend you aren't tempted. Some play time would be nice and relaxing for all of us." "I guess a little fun would be okay," I said. I was surprised I said that. It wasn't my intention. I had a friend who claimed most gay men did their thinking with their cocks and not their brains. My cock was doing my thinking for me. "Hot damn!" Bubba bellowed. I immediately regretted my decision. I had no idea what I was in for. Bubba and Skeeter were enthusiastic. I was uneasy for a minute or so. Bubba went for my cock and swallowed my entire organ. I soon realized he was a master sucker. He was good at it and he obviously liked it a lot. He clearly wanted my cock. He had a massive mustache and huge beard. My cock vanished into a cloud of hair. My balls felt great cushioned in the beard. He was unexpectedly gentle as his tongue caressed my knob. I leak when excited and Bubba seemed to like that. Lonnie didn't like to suck much, but did it to be polite. The tip of Bubba's tongue was at my slit, lapping it up. We moved to the bed. Bubba continued to suck me as I took care of Skeeter. While his cock wasn't huge, it was well above average. I had sucked only one or two uncut cocks in my life. I didn't go to bar or clubs and tended to be monogamous. My partners were monogamous too, unless I was away and they got lucky. I tended to go steady with a man for a few years, but relationships eventually petered away. I was forty now, and I noticed my sexual partners and my friend were different people. Sex was good when I met a new man, but tended to diminish in quality and regularity as the relationship matured. A month or two earlier I had realized my most recent relationship with a man named Lewis had essentially evaporated. He told me he had a good job offer in Atlanta and he left town. Skeeter wasn't my type, but as soon as my tongue touched his cock, I was hooked. He was semi-erect. The skin had pulled back some exposing some of his cock head. When I worked my tongue into the skin, I was licking his wide slit. I could get my tongue into it. Skeeter didn't leak much at first, but he twitched and shivered a lot. I didn't expect the mountain of a man to be so responsive. The foreskin pulled back and his cock head seemed to be very tender. He was also clean. He must have bathed regularly. That I didn't expect. I was nursing his knob, licking the slit and then the ridge where the skin attaches to the cock head. Skeeter must have been excited, because he shot off quickly. Suddenly he filled my mouth with warm man cream. His semen completely enveloped my tongue. I'm not much into cum, but Skeeter's home brew excited me. I took it all. As I took Skeeter's load, I shot off. Bubba loved that, I mean he really loved that. He took every squirt. He continued to suck after I stopped shooting. He wanted it all. I felt relaxed and drained. I must have dozed off. When I woke up, Skeeter and Bubba were watching me. "You're good at this," Bubba said. "I can't tell you how long it was when I tasted man seed from anyone but Skeeter. You're so tasty." "I want your next load," Skeeter said. "Maybe tomorrow," I said. "It's late." "It's only three in the afternoon," Skeeter said. "It ain't late." I looked at the windows. It looked dark but that was because of the rain. Skeeter slipped toward my cock and began to suck my soft organ. I looked at Bubba and licked my lips. A few seconds later, his cock was at my mouth. I stuck out my tongue and explored the open pucker. He had been oozing as he had sucked me earlier. All of his cock juices were was all there, saved in his foreskin. It was thick, sweet and quivering. I felt the excitement I had experienced when I was new to the scene. My first experience had been sucking a trucker at a rest stop. It had been scary, but so exciting. The trucker was uncut and shot off in my mouth. I was shocked and ran away. Bubba brought back all the memories without the shock and fear. My tongue explored Bubba's foreskin licking up all his cock juices. "This boy is like a new baby who has just discovered his mother's tit," Bubba said. "He's greedy, but that is fine with me. I've have a lot of man milk saved up in my balls. If he wants it, he can have it all." "How was his cream?" Skeeter asked. "It was good," Bubba said."You'll like it too. Charlie, do you like man cream?" I stopped sucking and looked up at him. "I didn't think I did, but I seem to like it more than I thought." I returned to my sucking duties. He was oozing a lot now and that acted as an aphrodisiac. As I sucked Bubba, Skeeter rubbed my back. It was relaxing. His hand strayed towards my ass. For some reason I shifted my legs so he had access to my hole. I said to my self, "This is dumb," but when I tried to close my legs, nothing happened. His finger touched my hole. I began to suck Bubba more vigorously. Skeeter lubricated his finger and caressed my ass hole. Soon his finger was in me and he was searching for my prostate. Skeeter knew where to look for it. He pressed the small gland and I moaned. As I moaned, Bubba began to ooze big time. I couldn't get enough of his cock. "I think he's ripe," Bubba said. "Give him a poke and let's see how he likes it." I didn't want that, but I didn't want to stop sucking Bubba either. Skeeter interpreted doing nothing as saying yes. Looking back, I think he was right. I was at a level of sexual excitement I hadn't experienced in years. My trucker experience had excited and scared me. I hadn't tried anything like that since. I am a cautious man and I'm not prone to be daring or take risks. My friends tended to be bland and safe. They could not have been more different from the two mountain men. Subconsciously, I wanted more. I was about to get more, perhaps more than I anticipated. Bubba and Skeeter were crude mountain men. They might be rough, but at least they weren't ax murderers. Skeeter's organ was smaller than Bubba's prod, but it wasn't small. It was the same length as Lewis' cock, but more than double the diameter. Skeeter also liked lots of lube. My ass resisted some, but not enough to keep him out. Once he popped through my sphincter, he went deep. Once he was in, he stopped pushing so I could get use to it. I didn't know what I was feeling at first. I was confused. We were all still. With Bubba's cock in my mouth and Skeeter's in my ass, I was skewered. I licked the underside of Bubba's cock head and then tasted the sweet precum that drooled on my tongue. I did it again and still more drooled from his balls. I began to rotate and wiggle my ass. Skeeter's oversized butt plug slipped into a good place. There was barely room for his cock and my prostate in my ass. Every movement rubbed my tender gland against his rock-hard cock. It was wonderful. I had been fucked before, but no one had ever filled me. It wasn't comfortable, but it was sexually exciting. I figured it would take a while to get use to the organ in my ass. Skeeter pulled out, leaving only his cock head in my ass. He gently pushed in again. He did this many times, getting more forceful with each penetration. He suddenly pulled out all the way and bent over me. "Are you okay, Charlie? I can stop if you want," he whispered. "Shit no, keep on pumping," I said. "I want it. "It's Bubba's turn now," Skeeter said. I was more than ready Bubba. After Skeeter's fucking, I wanted more in my ass. Until then I had tolerated average fuck tools and wanted thin organs that were easy to take. For some reason I wanted a big one on my ass now. Someone pounded on the door."Let me in, my truck is in the ditch," a man said. "I need some help! My friend is hurt." We hastily pulled on our pants. Bubba went to the door with his shotgun. He was not a trusting man. When Bubba saw the man he exclaimed, "Shit it's you!" I "Bobby's hurt," the voice at the door said. "He hit his head when we ran into a tree." There was silence. "Come in," Bubba said. "It looks like real blood." The man at the door was a tall state trooper and the injured man was in civilian clothes. "Put him on the bed. Let's get him out of the wet clothes. He's in shock," Skeeter said. He pulled out a first aid kit. Skeeter went about cleaning up the wounds. He seemed quite professional about it. He must have had some experience at it. The trooper was shivering too. "You need to get out of your clothes too," Bubba said. "Let's declare a truce. We won't shoot you, if you won't arrest us." The trooper looked at him oddly and then he laughed. "It's a deal," he said and he extended his hand toward Bubba. Bubba looked uneasy, but he reciprocated. Then tension in the room eased. The trooper looked around the room and saw me. "I'm trooper Williams," he said. "I'm Charles Donavan. My car is wrapped around a tree next to a creek," I said. "I am a stranded traveler like you." "It's a bad storm, I think we are here for a while," Williams said. "I had just made it home when the storm hit. Leo and I barely made it out the house when our cabin washed down the hill. I've never seen a storm like this. That last thing I heard on the radio was that the storm had stalled over the Blue Ridge. There is a big cold front in the Valley and a tropical storm going the east coast." "Is it a hurricane?" Bubba asked. "Not quite. It would have been a big rain storm if it hadn't stalled," the trooper replied. He was naked now and wrapped in a blanket. Bubba put several more logs in the wood stove and the room warmed up. Williams sat in a chair and watched Skeeter tend to Leo. "Where did you learn first aid?" he asked of Skeeter. "I was a corpsman in the army. That has been real useful for us through the years," Skeeter said. "Doctors don't make house calls. Bubba and I tend to scare women and children when we go into town." Williams had fallen asleep in the chair. I closed my eyes for a minute and woke up an hour or two later. It was still raining and the room was downright warm.