Date: Fri, 17 Dec 2010 13:18:25 -0800 (PST) From: Bob Archman Subject: Plato's Lodge 3 Plato's Lodge 3 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 slept well, but when I woke the next morning, my mind was spinning. I had read Whitman and just been fucked by a common carpenter and a distinguished professor. It was the poet's phantasy. Both men were much bigger than I was, but had been gentle. Either could have forced his cock into me without difficulty. They took their time and made love to me. I felt intense pleasure. I had never considered the possibility that a man could express his affection with his cock. It wasn't love with Seth or Professor Williams, but I did feel friendship. So many of the words used to describe sex are from the woman's point of view. A woman is taken, ravished, degraded or ruined. By losing her virginity, a woman becomes damaged goods unless it is on her wedding night. None of these terms applied to any of my relations with men. Rather than losing my virginity, I discovered a new world of pleasure. I enjoyed having another man's organ give me pleasure. My ass had been an entirely utilitarian part of my body. Now, it too was a sex organ. Seth didn't just fuck me; my ass caressed his manly organ. When I tightened my sphincter, he moaned in pleasure. When I rubbed my prostate against the Professor's thick shaft, the pleasure was mutual. Both men had massive orgasms and shot their man seed into me. Frankly, I thought they gave me more than I gave them. Theoretically, I should have felt guilty to let a total stranger's privates into my body. I knew I was supposed to have been shocked and have felt degraded, but I didn't feel that at all. I loved it. It was well beyond anything I had ever felt before. My feeling was perhaps like a small child who suddenly learns how to walk. A completely new world opens for the child. While the child is prone to fall and be injured, the new wider horizons are so exciting, he ignores the dangers to explore. That is the way I felt. I have since discovered not every man feels that way about being fucked. Everyone likes to suck and be sucked, but fucking is a more complex matter. I loved it and wanted to learn more. The roomers and visitors at Plato's Lodge were more than willing to help. Paulo Rossi, the Italian sculptor, seemed over-sexed to me. Brawny and hairy he spent the day chiseling stone. Each evening he returned from his work sweaty and dirty. A small stream crossed my property and my father built a small damn to create a pond. It was in the middle of the property and was not visible outside. In the summer, Paulo went to the pond to bathe. In bad weather, he made a special arrangement to have a daily bath. I expected my cook to draw the bath, but he was busy making dinner. The task fell to me. I thought it was going to be an annoying chore, but it turned into a pleasure. Paulo was built like a well-known statue of Hercules. I had seen engravings of the Farnese Hercules before. The musculature of the statue impressed me as un-natural. It seemed impossible a man could achieve that level of physical development. After seeing Paulo nude, I realized the classical sculptor must have used another sculptor as a model. He was a living version of the sculpture. His privates were distinctly not classically modest. His balls were huge, although his cock seemed average in size when not erect. I was deeply attracted to him physically. He had modeled in Italy and was entirely comfortable being nude. He was never naked, or uneasy. He was self-assured sexually, enthusiastic and generous. After the first time I made his bath, I sucked him and he rewarded me with a mouthful of his man seed. The next time he took mine, with great enthusiasm and obvious pleasure. For some reason I have a vision of sculptors as dour, somber men. Paulo was anything but that. Rodney and the Professor talked of sex in spiritual terms, and as part of an effort to achieve Classical ideals. Paulo liked sex plain and simple. He had no pretentious and needed no excuses. I liked his view, and curiously, no one objected to him or his lack of philosophical basis for man sex. Paulo didn't speak English well, but somehow he was always understood. I introduced Paulo to Seth and the two men got along well. They both worked with their hands and were powerfully built. I associated man sex with weak or effeminate men. These were two strong men, entirely without feminine characteristics. Seth told me he had a friend or two who might like to meet me. "Paulo also has some mates," Seth said. "It's hard to find a place where you can get together and enjoy each other. Discovery would be a disaster. Most of our connections have been limited for that reason." "Invite your friends here," I said. "It is secluded and private." "That would be nice," Seth said. "My friends, however, would be uneasy doing it with a gentleman such as you." "Have I every complained?" I asked. "I had never thought I put on airs. If I have, I deeply apologize. It was unintentional." "No sir, you have been straight with me," Seth said. "There are gentlemen who seek out laborers for their pleasure. That is often one sided, if you get my drift. I have told them, you aren't that kind of a man." We talked a little longer and decided to ask them over on Sunday afternoon. Most of the men were free that day. Paulo had two friends. Karl was an Austrian born sculptor, and Sean was an Irishman. Seth had three companions. Oliver and Thomas were native Philadelphians and Malcolm was a Scot. All were manly and muscular. I found them most attractive. I noted they all wore their best clothes. It was late summer and unusually warm. We went to the pond to swim. Most men were use to swimming naked as a youth, and the men liked this. I liked them when I first saw them; naked I liked them more. None of them would have been mistaken for Apollo. They were all bulky, muscular men, strong and powerful. They were very much like the men Walt Whitman wrote about. They were builders and artisans. At the pond Seth, Paulo and I stripped first and the other men followed. The pond faced the southern sun and the water was warm. The water was no more than five feet deep, but that was deep enough to make discrete first contacts under the water. While the men excited me, I hadn't realized the men were equally enthusiastic. They had never seen each other nude before. Father Nature has some firm rules. Interested men become erect. There is no way for a naked man to hide his interests. Everyone was interested. After swimming we returned to the house and went to the room, we called, rather grandly, the conservatory. The conservatory was a glassed in room my father added to the house. He enjoyed botany. It faced south and was on the backside of the house away from the main entrance on the north. I did not share my father's interests, but was loath to let his plants die, so the room was still filled with plants. I now had some chairs and a table as well as day bed in the room, since I used it as my personal get-away. Eight men in the room made it crowded. Everywhere you turned; there was an erect, naked man. I was sitting on a chair and snagged Malcolm's cock as he passed by. He was a copper haired, short bulldog of a man and his genitals were compact. His cock head peeked out of his foreskin. My lips grasped his cock as my tongue licked his tender hard. "Blimey!" he exclaimed. As my lips pushed back the skin exposing the entire head. I tasted the first traces of his ball juices. The men, who patronized the Lodge, Rodney and his friends, were all well endowed. I suspected some of their willingness to get naked was due to this. Men don't mind showing off their impressive genitals. The carpenters and sculptors in the conservatory were of all sizes and shapes. Their genitals were similarly varied. I could easily take Malcolm's cock into my mouth. I rubbed my tongue on the underside of his cock. This had the effect of milking his man juices from his balls. "Do I need to do it to you?" he asked in a whisper. "I've never sucked a man's cock before." "Do what you enjoy," I said. "Do you like to fuck?" "That I do, but I've never fucked a Gentleman before." I slipped my finger and touched his hole. He spurted some precum in response. I played with his sphincter and he opened to let my finger in, "Don't tell the others I like it. They don't know," he whispered. "I wouldn't worry about that," I said, "I will bet everyone here is interested." I said. "We can do that later. I like a cock in the ass too." I felt sympathy for Malcolm. He was unaware his sexual tastes and likes were not solely his own terrible secret; they were shared by many. He thought he was alone, but in reality, he was part of a great fraternity of like-minded men. I felt alone and isolated before I encountered Rodney. I thought I was a freak of nature, the only man in the world who felt these sexual urges. Instead of moving on, Malcolm sank to the floor and gingerly took my cock into his mouth. I think he was afraid it might bite him! It didn't and he soon had most of it in his mouth. The tallest man in the group, Karl, the Austrian Sculptor straddled Malcolm and fed me his cock. Karl was a giant of a man, but his cock appeared small and thin. Once it was in my mouth, I discovered that was only in comparison to his huge body. He was average. More surprising his privates were very sensitive and responsive. I assumed this massive crude man was insensitive and had crude feelings. Every movement of my tongue caused a reaction. He oozed; he twitched; he shivered. It was hard to believe I could control this 300-pound man by touching his cock with my tongue. I enjoyed that. In spite of his crude appearance, Karl attended the Academy of Art in Vienna and was a most cultured man. He came to the United States because of an incident with an Austrian Nobleman. The Nobleman's family discovered their relationship and forced Karl to leave. I broke apart and went to my bedroom and brought back some oils for lubrication should that be needed. The oils were a success. They men were accustomed to spit as the only lubricant. By now, the initial unease of being naked in a group of strangers had dissipated. We shared common interests and lusts. The men tended to prefer fucking. Our time in the pond meant everyone's genitals were bathed and opened the potential for oral pleasures. I was introducing Sean, the Irish sculptor, to the oral arts when Thomas, one of the carpenters entered me from the rear. This was unexpected, but Thomas had used the oils. He seemed to have a thin cock, other than a bulbous cock head. Once I got over the surprise, it became intensely pleasurable. Sean drooled a particularly rich brew of cock juices. He was large, but I could take the entire organ in my mouth. I would bury my nose in his red bush then suction his man juice as I pulled off. To my rear, Thomas would slide in as I pulled back. Somehow, his mushroom glans would rub my prostate, as I tasted Sean's juice. It was perfect. While Thomas was a rough looking man, he was a tender fucker. He looked like a street brawler who had lost more fights than he had won. I tightened my sphincter when he was in. "Keep it tight sir!" he asked. I kept it as tight as I could. I enjoyed this greatly. Thomas filled my ass with his seed. His, very vocal orgasm, seemed to inspire Sean, who fed me his Irish home brew. The other men noted our experiments with interest. I hadn't climaxed yet. Oliver and Paulo took their places. Oliver was the youngest man in the group. He hadn't topped before, so he went to my ass. Paulo fed me his cock and Karl sucked me. I was fully engaged. Oliver was wonderful. His long cock slipped in easily and he slowly pumped his organ. Karl was enthusiastic, but had a good sense of how close to shooting I was. When I got close, he slowed and let me cool down. Playing with men is always like playing with a gun. Men are always loaded and ready to shoot. It is somewhat like Russian roulette. Most men lose interest after the climax. While the climax is intensely pleasurable for the shooter, his playmates lose their pals. The climax is the ultimate pleasure for one, but the end of the pleasure for the other. To some extent, all of us were aiming at the final orgasm, but we were in no rush. In a group of eight when one man shot off, there were others to take his place. We went at it for two hours. Orgasms punctuated the time, but there were never less than five men who were still erect and playing. Of course, after two hours of sexual activity there was no trace of shyness or reserve left. Easing your cock into your friend's ass or sucking his spewing cock had become the most natural thing in the world. We all had a chance to do things we had never done before. More correctly, we had a chance to do things we have been incapable of conceiving. Oliver had fucked for the first time when he entered me. A little later Oliver and Seth shared my ass. Both cocks fit. The two cocks rubbing against each other in my ass were too exciting for them. They shot off together. Sean and Thomas took their turns to. I admit I was the only one to take all of their cocks, but I didn't feel used. I was satisfied sexually, but I was also pleased they have found my ass so enjoyable. Our party wound down and the men had to get home. We agreed to meet again. Thomas said he had another friend who might like to join us. When they left, Angus and Rodney joined Paulo and me. They had watched. "My dear Wistar, I've never watched a classical orgy before. Was it as exciting as it looked?" Rodney asked. "It was a dream come true," Paulo said in his strong Italian accent. "It was lovely. Everyone gave and everyone took." "I believe Wistar gave more and took more, if my eyes didn't deceive me," Angus said. "You must think I am a libertine," I muttered. "Don't be silly, I would have given my eye teeth to have been in your position," Rodney said. "I was not the way I thought it would have been, but it almost certainly was the way it would have been in ancient Greece." "It is hard to visualize Plato and Socrates in my position," I said. "Indeed it is, but that is due to our idealization of the ancients, and our fantasy that great men and philosophers did not really have men's organs, drives and needs," Angus said. Perhaps they just admired handsome naked men. Speaking for myself, admiration leads to fondling, and then to sucking. I my case somehow I end up someone ass." "Do you think the philosophers' admirers would not want to please the great man?" Rodney asked. "Would not sucking the philosopher's man seed, be as much pleasure as a man could give to another man?" "Professor Williams and I discovered that you cannot have dispassionate sex. I think men inevitably desire sex as the ultimate expression of some forms of love," Rodney added. "It is natural and part of the grand scheme of life. No sex eventually means no life. It is the basic requirement of continuing the species." "Well, man sex certainly doesn't lead to procreation," I said. "It does not, but it may be an important part of man's survival. Think of a hunting party searching out game. Their wives and children are back in a cave. The men would naturally huddle together to keep warm. While masturbation is enjoyable, it does not approach the excitement of sex with another person. Would not our hunter play with each other on those long nights? Would you not get closer to the men you shared sex with?" "I suspect Plato and Socrates would forget decorum once their lips touched a cock," Angus said, "But since they have been dead for over 2,000 years, that is impossible to know." "Those worthy's have been dust for centuries, but there are modern men who admire the Platonic ideal, Randall said. "I know such a man. He knows of our investigations into Greek love and is most interested in them." "Are you suggesting he might be interested in our play?" I asked. "He has told me he is interested," Rodney said. "Interested or tempted?" I asked. "He is fully aware of the fine line between interest and temptation," Rodney said. "He is a close friend of Professor Williams, and they have frankly discussed the sexual aspects in detail. Frankly, he has thought of sex with men, but is a virgin. Sexual consummation is and abstract ideal for him. He has never done the actual act. He is not a young man, so I think he is overdue." "I wonder if our activities might shock him?" Angus asked. "A man of his age and reputation is uneasy of course," Rodney said. "While in theory he celebrates sexuality, in reality he is embarrassed at his complete lack of actual participation in any sort of sexual activity. I think you know Professor Williams is a convincing man. He may come by tomorrow night with our friend. My friend admires womanly women and manly men. He is not attracted to effeminate men or masculine women. I told him our man friends are all manly. Williams thinks our approach to man sex is joyful and well celebrates the Greek ideal. I hope that you men can be here." Of course, we were all free. Rodney also wanted Seth and Thomas to attend too. At seven, Professor Williams and his friend knocked on the front door. Williams introduced his friend simply as Walt. "I would never have guessed there was a house here," Walt commented. "This house is a tribute to my grandfather's poor sense. He had eleven children and every time he needed money he sold off a lot on the edge of the property," I explained. If he had a twelfth child he might have sold the drive." Walt laughed. "It is attractively secluded, and the house is without pretension. I love a simple farmhouse." "Let us go and get more comfortable," Williams said. "Walt has never been with a group like ours. He is nervous." "We are as private and unpretentious as the house," I said. "He can relax and there is no need to worry. Rodney and the professor introduced me to their ways recently. I must admit it has been a joy and a pleasure." Walt looked slightly familiar. A minute or two later I realized he was the great poet, Walt Whitman. We went up to my room where we undressed, "Are you a swimmer?" I asked when I saw his handsome body. "I was when I was younger," he said, "I use to exercise a great deal." We then crossed the hall to Rodney's room. Rodney, Julian, Angus, Seth, Thomas and Paulo were there. All were nude. Most were relaxed, but Thomas and Julian were somewhat excited. While they clearly were soft, their foreskins had parted to partially expose the glans. The Professor introduced Walt to the group. Walt's own organ was entirely enshrouded in his generous skin. I noticed his cock firmed when he met he carpenters, Seth and Thomas. Rodney had wine, some cheeses and fruit set out. After a glass or two of wine, Walt relaxed and talked freely. We are a friendly group, and he was comfortable. He took furtive glances at our genitals at first, but soon was comfortable looking at our privates. "Professor, your friends are handsome," he commented. "None of us are like the dandies you see in the illustrated magazines," Williams replied. "I must admit I admire the male body, and seeing men nude does nothing to diminish my admiration. From our earliest years, we hide it in clothes and are taught to feel shame when we expose it. I hope you aren't embarrassed at our exposed genitals?" "I would be lying if it said it wasn't a shock to see so many naked men unashamed of their nudity," he replied. "It is a pleasant shock." "Like most men I hide my feelings," Seth said. "Long ago I discovered my man parts have feelings too, and they aren't shy about showing their interest. When you are naked, it's like playing cards with a mirror behind your back. They can see all your cards." "How do you solve that problem?" Walt asked. He was clearly looked at Seth's privates. In the lamplight of the room, you could see the skin had retraced a little and a bead of Seth's ball juiced glistened in his slit. "I worried about that when I first met the Professor and Wistar I thought they would be shocked and think me a pervert of some sort. I don't know what their minds thought, but their privates like the show, and rose to meet the occasion!" Walt laughed. "Well put!" He looked down and saw his own cock react. "Apparently my cock has its own mind too." "You could say one of the objectives of our little group is to close the gap between our cock's enthusiasm and our brains reluctance," Professor Williams said. "The cock is untamed and natural. Our brains are affected by centuries of misplaced or misunderstood morality." As the professor talked, I slipped to the floor and gently took the great poet's cock in my mouth. He shivered and then moaned in pleasure.