Date: Mon, 12 Jan 2009 04:05:57 -0800 (PST) From: Bob Archman Subject: Scout Masters Scout Masters by Bald Hairy Man This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you don't like that DON'T read it. You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual. No effort to portray safe sex practices has been made. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com. I guess it's a standard gay fantasy to do it with a Scout Master. When I was in the scouts it sure was mine. Our troop had two leaders, Mr. Ronald Wilson and Mr. Andrew Richardson. Mr. Wilson was a Park Ranger for the Blue Ridge National Park and Forest. He was thin, tall, bearded and handsome. He had a knack for getting boys to do more than they thought they could. He was mild mannered and laid back, but he got results. We took long camping trips and learned to be self reliant and deal with problem as they came up. Mr. Richardson was a biologist at a local college. He was stocky and short. We called him Silverback, since he was hairy like a gorilla. Richardson was more of a cheerleader type, but he's real interest was in ecology and respect for nature. He gave me an interest in nature that has stayed with me. We were on a weekend camping trip when we were caught in a massive downpour that resulted in flash flooding and was scary. Richardson and Wilson were both steady as a rock and it turned out to be a good experience. With their example the twelve scouts under their charge were just as steady. Richardson told us, if you want to panic wait for the storm to stop. Save panic for after the problem had been solves. We were wet, but unhurt and by the time we made it out of the forest we were seasoned campers and thought of ourselves as men. We were all in our early to mid teens and our hormones were raging. Hair was beginning to sprout in unexpected places. Our balls were filling up and cocks were turning into an endless source of entertainment and wonder. We were all curious and eager to learn. Scouting was good, but if Mr. Wilson told us to strip naked and practice cock sucking, we'd have done it in a second. We weren't all gay, at least I don't think we were all gay, but we were all driven. Testosterone was all but drooling from our ears. We wanted an outlet. Today there are all these stories of guys who molest boys. We got two totally straight arrows as Scout Masters. They never did anything even remotely inappropriate. To this day I wonder how much of the molestation is wish fulfillment. Wilson and Richardson did take their shirts off to swim, but I never got to see either man's cock. Shirtless men were turned me on. Most of the boys were smooth or had a few hairs on their chest. I was becoming hairy, and they called me the Human chimp in the showers at school. I felt like a part of the human race when I saw Mr. Wilson and Richardson. Wilson was hairy. His brown beard merged with his chest hair. The chest hair flowed down the middle of his gut into his pants. I wanted to see the rest, but had to be satisfied when I saw an inch or two of pubic hair when his swimming trunks slipped. Richardson wasn't just hairy, he was furry. My friend Fred said they only parts of him that weren't hairy were his eye balls and teeth. He was clean shaven, but his five o'clock shadow appeared at noon. I flet better about my increasingly hairy body. As a part of general teen aged confusion, I wasn't sure if I was gay, or if I was going through a phase. Reality didn't strike until college, but my dreams as a teenager involved Wilson and Richardson. I dropped out of scouts when I was 16. My father got sick and I got a part time job to help out at home. I wanted to go to college too, so I needed a scholarship. My time was spent working or studying, so there wasn't much spare time. I saw Mr. Wilson around town and we chatted a few times but that was it. He and Mr Richardson wrote me a very good recommendation for college. I got a good scholarship at the University and once I was there I did well. I got a degree in biology and went on the get a doctorate. My first job after getting the degree was back home at Blue Ridge State. This was the school where Mr. Richardson taught. I was in his department although he had retired and was on an expedition to the Amazon when I started there. It was on a Saturday near the end of the second semester when I ran into him at the library restroom. I was taking a piss when a man went to the next urinal. I looked over and saw an impressive hunk of meat. It was uncut and the man pulled the skin back as he pissed. When I was done, I stayed there and shook my cock to get rid of the last drops. He had glanced over and when he was finished he did the same. I didn't get hard, but I had firmed up. I hate to sound like a stereotypical gay man, but I hadn't looked up at the man's face. He hadn't either. When I did, I didn't recognize him at first. He had a beard now and it was streaked with white. After a few seconds I recognized him as Mr. Richardson. I had a beard now and he didn't recognize me. "I've got a long day ahead of me," I said. "I think I need a cup of coffee." He winked at me. "That sounds good to me. I live a block away. My kitchen is a lot cheaper than Starbucks." We left and went to his apartment. As we walked there I told him who I was. He was shocked. "I didn't recognize you," he said. "I'm sorry!" I smiled at him. "I'm not sorry at all," I said. "What must you think of me?" "Mr Richardson, I'm 32 now. It's not a problem." He looked at me, then smiled. "Old habits die hard. I can't think of my scouts getting older. I've never been with one of them . . . this way before." We were at his apartment and he made a pot of coffee. He was nervous but he calmed down. He told me he liked kids, but not sexually. He had become a Scoutmaster because of Wilson. They were lovers and this provided a way to get together without generating talk. Wilson had been transferred to the west, so they only rarely got together any more. I told him how good the experience with them had been and I had been relieved to find some other hairy men. Mr. Wilson was the first man I knew who had a beard. I thought I was the only hairy guy in the world until I saw the two of them. "You're hairy?" Richardson asked. He was obviously interested. I nodded. He was quiet then he asked, "Can I see?" "If you show me yours, I'll show you mine." He laughed and we went to the bed room for show and tell. I soon realized he was as turned on as I was. Once I was naked, he lost all his reserve and we admired each others fur coat. I wasn't as hairy as he was, but I was as hairy as Wilson had been. He was happy. He stroked my chest hair and then the trail to my bush. As his hand followed the trail of hair, my cock rose to meet it. He cupped my furry ball sack in his hand. "I've never been interested in boy balls. I like men's, especially when they are filled with sperm. Yours are nice and heavy." "Mine are full," I said. "As I recall your main interest was in plant reproduction." He smiled. "I like animal reproduction too. It still seems like a miracle when the reproductive process works. The last few years I have been studying sperm. I wouldn't mind studying yours." "I'll trade you," I said. Richardson dropped to his knees to take a sample. He was a master cock sucker. He loved my cock and didn't wan to stop sucking. It took some work, but I got him on the bed so I could suck him. I wonder how many guys fantasize about their coach, or Scout Master and never get to know what it's really like, or get disappointed when they see it. Richardson's cock was a testosterone Popsicle. Intellectually he may have been uneasy about having sex with a former scout, but his cock was more than ready. He was over half hard when I started sucking him and his foreskin still covered his bulbous cock head. Inside the skin was a rich brew of pre cum and hormones. It drove me crazy with desire. I inhaled the musky odor of his balls and loved it. I had studied pheromones in college. This was the first time I experienced them. Richardson wasn't what you would typically think as a handsome man, but he was all man. He seemed to have double everything that characterizes a man. He had a deep bass voice, was covered in hair and possessed big balls. His cock must have been two inches in diameter and six to six and a half inches long. His wide slit drooled man juices. Every time I wanted to take a breather I'd suction more from his bull balls and I'd deep throat him again. When I did that, I'd bury my nose in his hairy ball sack and sniff his musky odor. I wasn't a virgin, but I had never been so excited with any of my previous playmates. Eventually we did stop to catch a breath. "This is wonderful, Mr. Richardson," I said. "It's hard to believe you turned into so much a man," he said. "I came close to shooting several times. By the way, call me Andy. I think Mr. Richardson is a bit formal for two naked guys." "Ron likes my seed," he said. "I've shot so much cum up his ass, it's amazing he doesn't look like me." "You like to fuck?" "I do, but Ron was the only one who seems to like it. I'm too thick for most guys," he said. "Are you into anal?" "I've done it, mostly as a top," I replied. I noticed he had a tube of lubricant next to the bed. I took some and coated his pole. It was sticking straight up in the air. He moaned when the cool liquid touched his member. He coated my cock and stroked it. I straddled him we got cock to cock. Rubbing our meat together was wonderful. I am not much of a bottom, but for some reason I felt and urge to sit on his meat. His eyes were closed as he held our cocks together and rubbed the shafts. I got some lube and lubed my ass. Somehow a second or two later his cock was in my ass and I was in heaven. You could say I was a social fucker. I did it to be polite. It rarely excited me. Andy's cock excited me. "Damn, you took the whole thing," Andy exclaimed. I didn't know what to do other than twitch and shiver as I got use to the pole in my ass. Andy let me get use to it then he rolled me over and really fucked me doggy style. He wasn't exactly gentle, but he certainly wasn't rough. I was on my hands and knees. He got his legs between mine and forced them apart to open my ass wider and he pressed on the small of my back. With each change it got better. He was also picking up speed and that was exciting. He suddenly grabbed my shoulders and held me skewered on his cock as he moaned and ejaculated in my ass. I had taken cock in my ass, but I'm not sure I had ever been so totally fucked. I know popular lore is that you are defiled as a bottom. I loved it. It wasn't just my own sensations that was spectacular. I had satisfied Andy too. We collapsed on the bed. Andy left his cock in my ass and for several minutes later. He was still twitching as the final drops of sperm shot in to my ass. I squeezed my sphincter too milk his organ. He loved that. A half hour later I slipped my cock into Andy's ass. I didn't actually fuck him. It was more correctly a prostate massage. My cock and knob played with his prostate for an hour or so. I finally shot off. We took a shower together and damn if we didn't get excited again. I had a lovely time licking his cock as he shot off a second time. I was like a baby at his mother's breast. I couldn't get enough of it. He had to go to a banquet for retired faculty with the college President, but I gave him my number and we agreed to meet again. On Sunday I went to church for the Baptism of my first nephew. My younger brother was married to a nice girl and they named the boy after me, Leo. At the reception I ran into Johnson Devers. He was my brother's wife's cousin and had been one of the members of our troop. He worked at his father's Tire store. He had been the youngest and littlest kid in the troop, but had grown some. Johnson was well over six feet and massive now. Some had teased him about his small size. I hadn't been in that group and Johnson and I were pals. Johnson and I shared a tent on most of our camping trips. We did a little experimentation in the tent. I was two years older than he was, but he was much more worldly. He had an older brother who told him things. When we first camped, I had a man cock and Johnson had a boy cock. When I left the Scouts, Johnson had caught up in the cock division and was bigger than I was. I had only seen him a few times since I went to college. We had a good time catching up on old times. He knew where everyone was and who had married whom. After the reception we went to a local hang out to have a burger and a beer. He gave me a ride home and we talked. I told him I had run into Mr. Richardson. "He and Wilson were nice guys," Johnson said. "My dad was going through a rough time then and they were a godsend for me. I needed a man I could look up to." Johnson's father had a drinking problem and things had been rough for a while. He went a way for a while and had returned dry. When Johnson was 18 he had to run the business, and while technically Johnson worked for his father, Johnson ran the business. "Silverback helped me a lot. He actually got my dad into rehab." "Well Mr. Richardson is happy, older and even more hairy," I said. "After your dad got sick and you left, I got to share a tent with him. I kind of hoped we might play the way you and I did, but he was a straight arrow," Johnson said. "I did get to see his cock once when he undressed for bed. He's got a good one. I use to dream about him." "Him or it?" I asked. Johnson laughed. "To tell you the truth it was him, it and yours!" he said. He dropped his voice. "I still do. You're not married are you?" "Not even close. I take it you haven't found then right girl yet?" "That's the official story," he said. "One of the guys at the tire shop is a pal. He's as nice as he can be. Fun too." "I had a few friends in college but nothing beyond fun and games," I said. "By the way, I'm not bad mouthing fun and games." "Maybe we could get together some time and share out recourses," Johnson said. "Sonny and I are pals, not a married couple." "I don't want to get in the middle of something." "Sonny and I have had a threesome several times and I was fun," Johnson said. "Do you remember Buddy Bishop and Justin Graves?" "I vaguely remember them," I said, "Four or five years behind us in school?" "That's them. Buddy was in scouts just as I left. He just got out of College and is a school teacher. Justin is at Tech now in his senior year. They are both graduates of the two man tent school of learning the ropes." "They're young," I said. "They may be young but they aren't shy," Johnson replied. "Buddy and I shared a tent on several camping trips. I was the oldest guy in the troop, he was the youngest. He all but raped me. That boy likes sex." We were at my apartment by then and Johnson said he'd call. My head was spinning. Johnson wasn't a redneck, but he sure wasn't an English major working on the poetry of Shelly. It was hard to believe he had been the twerp of the troop when we first met. He had been timid when we shared a tent. The first time we fondled each other, he had shot off when my hand touched his cock. I licked it off my hand to clean it up. He had been shocked. He got over that before I left.