Date: Sun, 4 Sep 2005 05:35:41 -0700 (PDT) From: Bob Archman Subject: Queens Row Queens Row by Bald Hairy Man. This is and adult gay story for adult gay men. If this offends you, DON'T read it. This is a fantasy not a sex manual. Play safe. In 1974 it was a run down row of townhouses on the edge of Richmond's sprawling Fan District. While parts of the district were stylish and up scale, this area wasn't one of them. Derelicts, drug addicts and prostitutes were the primary residents of the block. That was when I bought a boarding house for $38,000.00 and began renovating it as my residence. I'm Denny Paul, and had just opened Flora & Fauna, a combination florist and pet store. Six months later my friend, John Baller bought the house next door. He's an interior designer. By 1978, twelve of the houses were under renovation. Each was owned by a young gay man. It didn't take long for the area to be known as Queens' Row. At first it was a plain, old-fashioned term of derision, but by the early 80s it had become synonymous with a brilliant real estate deal. Realtors talked about this or that area as "the next Queens' Row." The residents of the Row were all designers, decorators and artists. We've cut a wide swath in the staid cultural world of Richmond. Off-white rooms with a feature wall of beige had been Richmond's typical interior scheme before Queens' Row. Chinese Red is John Baller's favorite color. John and the other residents were talented and bold. Fortunately for us, daring was combined with good taste and Baller could create an exciting scheme that was also easy to live with. In the late 90s the slum area to the south of the Row began to change. This area was made up of small working men's houses that had fallen on bad times. Most had been abandoned when new residents began to buy and renovate the houses. As was the case with Queens' Row, the new residents were gay, but no one would call these new homeowners Queens. I called the new area the Zoo. It was made up of Bears, Otters and Wolves. If Queens' Row men liked silk shirts, the Zoo's residents were into denim, flannel and leather. The two groups didn't get along, but we weren't exactly at war. I had to concede anything was better than what was there before, but once and while, I had doubts. Bruno DeMarco was driving home from his muffler shop when an elderly man ran a light and hit him head on. It was a huge crash. I was right behind Bruno in my Volvo. I saw the accident and ran to help Bruno. The smell of gasoline was in the air and Bruno DeMarco was dazed. I got him out from the truck, a second before the truck burst into flame. The police arrived and the old man claimed Bruno had run the light. Bruno seemed confused. He had hit his head and was unclear what had happened. The old man looked respectable and Bruno didn't. Initially the Police believed the man. I saw it all and straightened that out. After the fire department arrived and the situation cleared up, I offered to drive Bruno home. The EMTs checked Bruno and said he was fine, but he was a bit shaky. It was then I discovered Bruno lived in the Zoo. I drove him to the house. It was dark and empty. I offered to take him home and have dinner. Frankly, I wasn't sure Bruno was in as good condition. Bruno agreed. Bruno hadn't recognized me and was surprised when they drove to the other side of the block. I like young, handsome, effete men. Bruno was as far from that as a man could be. He was 5-6, 200 solid pounds and bearded. He was wearing a dirty work shirt and a fringe of body hair poked from the collar. I gave Bruno a beer and made a dinner of burgers and fries. Several beers later we were almost friendly. After a few more beers, we were friends. As the beer took effect, Bruno began to check out my crotch. I'm well equipped and don't mind the admiration. I'm use to sly glances. Bruno's frank stare was something new. "Is that real, or do you have a sock wedged in your crotch?" Bruno asked. "Are you always so direct?" I asked, amused at the crude man's directness. "It's real." Bruno looked at me with increasing interest. "You wouldn't happen to be a top, would you?" "Are you interested?" I asked. "If it's as big as it looks, I am," Bruno replied. "I'd love to sample it." I had drunk just enough to be interested. Normally I wouldn't consider Bruno as a playmate. I figured, what the hell. "I'm a friendly man," I said. "I like fun." "A shower might be nice before we get started," Bruno said. "It was a long, hot day at work." "Let's go upstair to the bath," I said as I led Bruno to his bedroom. "It pretty here," Bruno observed when he saw the bath. He gaped in amazement. My bath is a spectacular room. It was treated as jungle conservatory, filled with plants and a waterfall into a pool. We stripped. I'm meticulously groomed. A friend of mine is into shaving. My chest hair was growing back, but my salon tanned body is almost perfect. Looking at Bruno, I realized the man's idea of grooming was combing his hair. He looked like a silver back gorilla, hairy and incredibly muscular. Bruno looked scarey. "Do you want to try the tub?" I asked indicating the pool. "Shit, I'd leave a ring!" Bruno commented. "I'd better try the shower." The shower was a tiled grotto. Bruno went in and I followed him. Bruno cleaned up, but as soon as he was decent he addressed my cock. It took two or three seconds for me to realize Bruno was a master cock sucker. I'm impressively soft. As Bruno sucked, my organ began to grow. As it grew bigger, Bruno grew more enthusiastic. He was happy with seven inches, overjoyed with eight and almost crazed when it reached full expansion at nine. I just stood under the running water and let Bruno work his magic. It was enjoyable for him. He held Bruno's head. Bruno could deep throat him. He was one of the few men who could do this. I sometimes jokingly claimed there was a brain in my cock head. As the cock head penetrated into Bruno's mouth, I had the odd sensation the brain in my cock head linked with Bruno's brain. It was as if we were directly linked, nervous system to nervous system. We got out of the shower, dried off and went to the bed room. Bruno was like an affectionate dog in heat. His enthusiasm spread to me. We sixty nined. I like cut cocks cut and shaved bodies. Bruno's dong was uncut, hairy and had the proportion of a can of Budweiser. As I sucked the gross organ and I felt a rush of sexual excitement I hadn't felt in years. It was as if I was sixteen again when Mr. Daniels, the art teacher, sucked my cock for the first time. That too evolved into a sixty-nine session. Then I had thought sucking a cock would be gross. As soon as my lips touched Mr. Daniels' cock, my opinion changed 180 degrees. As I sucked Bruno, I felt the same excitement of exploring another man cock for the first time. I worked my tongue into the skin and licked the tender flared edge. The cock was gross looking, but sensitive. Bruno oozed a rich brew of precum and this was almost intoxicating. It was thick and pungent. Bruno opened his legs wide. I licked his balls. While I had no interest in rimming, somehow my tongue explored Bruno's hairy hole. The pink and delicate rosebud was lost in the thicket of hair. Bruno's body was muscular, hard and buffed, but the hole was so dedicate and soft. I thought it would be a shame to violate the delicate hole with my bloated man rammer. As soon as I thought this, I had an uncontrollable urge to fuck. I rarely fucked. My organ was so big it seemed to cause more problems than pleasure. I don't like to be fucked and only did it for young men who were doing it for the first time. They got a thrill. "I want to fuck," I whispered. "Any time you're ready. I'm ready," Bruno said. "Be my guest." I got some lubricant out and coated his cock. Putting Bruno's legs on my shoulders, I then nuzzled my cock head in the tender hole. I pushed, but nothing happened. "Push hard!" Bruno ordered. "It takes some work to open me up." I rammed my cock into Bruno's ass. My mushroom popped through the sphincter and all nine inches slid into the quivering hole. "Damn, that's good!" Bruno exclaimed. If it was good for Bruno, it was even better for me. Once the cock head passed through the sphincter of steel, my cock rammed deep into Bruno's hot and steamy ass. The sphincter clamped on my cock forming a natural cock ring. My cock stayed hard as I pounded Bruno. Bruno's ass craved cock. After an hour or two of constant sexual activity, we were winded and exhausted. There was no position we hadn't tried, no possible sexual coupling we hadn't explored. I shot off three times. This was the first time I'd done this in twenty years. My mind wandered back to my first experience with Mr. Daniels. Everything then was new, exciting and intensely pleasurable. Sex with Bruno felt the same. I walked Bruno home. By that time several of the neighboring houses were lit up and Bruno went to see friends. I returned home and went to bed, dreaming of Bruno. The next day was Saturday and I slept late. The doorbell rang at 10:30. I through on a robe and went to the door. At first I thought it was Bruno, but a second or two later he realized this man was a good foot taller. "Are you Denny?" the man asked in a gruff voice. I nodded. "Thank you for helping Bruno," he said. "I'm Buddy, Bruno's friend." He handed me a large bouquet of flowers. "He said you liked pretty things." "Thank you," I replied, "Come on in, would you like some coffee?" Buddy came in and we went to the kitchen. "It is pretty here," Buddy said. "How is Bruno?" I asked. "Sleeping," Buddy replied. "Chuck is with him. Chuck's a nurse and he wants to watch him for a while. Bruno's has a hard head, but Chuck's not so sure it's that hard." "He was disoriented," I said. "It was a hard hit. That man was racing through the intersection." "Running the light?" Buddy asked. "That would be my guess. It was odd. He was mad Bruno was in his way." I made the coffee and we sat at the counter. This was my fist time to look Buddy over. The man was huge and bearded. His hair was dark brown, but had reddish highlights. His face was ruddy, but Buddy's eyes were a pale, clear blue. Buddy was probably thirty or thirty-five, but the beard gave the illusion of age. "Are you boys partners?" I asked. "Good friends more than partners," he replied. "Bruno's a good friend. We both come from Roanoke and our families are distantly related." "Kissing cousins?" "We don't kiss much," Buddy said. "We've been known to fuck though." I laughed. "That's more fun than kissing." "I'm not very kissy-kissy," Buddy said, "but I'm one hell of a fucker. Bruno gave you good reviews too. He said you're a sex machine." "I'm sorry about that," I said. Buddy laughed. "That was a compliment, not a complaint," he said. "Bruno likes them big." The coffee was ready and I filled the mugs. I took it black. Buddy liked cream and sugar. We talked for a while, but I could feel the sexual tension rise. I sensed Buddy was interested. The conversation returned to Bruno and to my cock. Buddy was shy, and not articulate. "Are you interested in big cocks?" I asked. Buddy looked relieved. I broke the ice. "I've got a big one myself, but have never run into one as big as mine," he said. "I guess you could say I was curious." "Curious about what?" "What does it feel like?" he explained. "I know what I'm feeling, but have no real idea what my partner's feeling. I've been fucked, but it's never done for me what it does for Bruno. I figure it has to do with size." After three orgasms, there was no way I could get it up again. The night with Bruno was too cum filled for an instant replay. I glanced at Buddy's crotch. His jeans had the clear outline of a thick piece of meat. While I couldn't get it up again, the brain in my cock head had a different idea. While I talked with Buddy, my robe fell open. "It's pretty." Buddy said. "Pretty big." "How big are you?" I asked. Again it was the brain in my cock head doing the talking. Buddy stood up, unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down. He had huge balls and a big cock head, sheathed in a thick foreskin. There didn't seem to be much of a shaft. "It's a grower, not a shower," he said. I reached over and stroked it. It was actually heavy. It took two or three stokes to get hard. It was massive. It wasn't as long as mine, but was much thicker. His cock head was the size of an apricot. The skin covered a third of the gland, but was stretched thin. We went to my bedroom. I felt a teenager's sexual excitement and drive. I wanted to get in Buddy's ass. I hadn't been that sexually driven for years. Buddy was just as excited. We got naked and went at it. Buddy wasn't what I thought he would be like was at all. I expected him to be a "slam-bang, thank you ma'am" guy. He was a lover not a fucker. I don't know what happened, but I found myself wanting Buddy's cock and I wanted it in my ass. He knew this and he slowly eased his cock into my ass. "The mushroom's really big," he whispered. "It may hurt some going in, but Bruno says it's worth it." It was. He popped it through my sphincter, then slid deep. When he got hard, the head crowned a long, thin and curved shafts. It drove me crazy. When the head rubbed my prostate, I began to shiver and twitch. I hadn't done that in years. Soon, I was hard as a rock. When I was hard enough, Buddy pulled out and impaled himself on my cock. I couldn't believe how fast the big man moved. My cock slid deep in a single movement. Buddy's eyes rolled back into his head and he moaned. He just sat there, slowly undulating his ass. He was purring like a satisfied cat. We rolled over, so I could fuck him on his back. This gave me control and as I deep dicked him, he growled a deep guttural sound. When I shot off, we traded positions again and he fucked me until he climaxed. We showered and he went home. My head was spinning. I'm no virgin, but it was as if I was discovering sex again for the first time. Sex was new and exciting again. I was sixteen again and tasting cock. I found myself thinking about Bruno and Buddy all the time, trying to figure out how to have sex with them again.