Date: Sun, 6 Jul 2014 04:13:57 -0700 From: Bob Archman Subject: The Journal of Angus Ferguesson 3 The Journal of Mr. Angus Fergusson 3 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 donating to Nifty Under Roddy's direction Bert explored the possible positions for screwing another man. He tried doggy style and then from the side. I sat on it facing him and facing away. Each penetration was intensely pleasurable and exciting for me and for him. He shot off while doing me doggy style. That gave Roddy an opportunity to use his friend's semen as lubricant. Usually it takes time to work up to a second orgasm, but Roddy must have been exited. He shot off again in five minutes. I had a brief period of rest and Bert returned to my ass. He too was excited. With two loads of man seed in my rear, it was easy to take his organ. I realized that Roddy was in love with Bert. Roddy had plowed and seeded Bert and it was only a matter of time before Burt did the same to Roddy. Bert did not last long. He pulled out to shoot off and Roddy surprised him by taking the sperm as it spurted for his cock. From the level of surprise I was almost certain this was the first time Roddy did that. Things calmed down and they dressed and went home. Dr. Alistair MacDougall came by late in the afternoon and asked if I would be willing to have a session for him. I said that was acceptable, but it might take a while to find a partner. "Would it bother you if I had found a partner?" Alistair asked. "This was purely a chance discovery, but one of my colleagues at the University might be interested. Let me assure you that I have not mentioned your name to him, so it is all absolutely confidential." "These connections are so very intimate, it is difficult to agree to meet a complete stranger," I said. That was not strictly speaking true. I was uneasy meeting strange men, but not always unwilling. Sex can be a powerful drive that sometimes vanquishes common sense and always overcomes conventional morality in my case at least. "What is this man like?" I asked. "He is a research biologist, somewhat older than you are," Alistair said. "I would feel comfortable describing his as manly rather than handsome. He has a good mind, with original thoughts that are unorthodox, but which may bear fruit. I found him a laboratory late at night in a compromising situation. When I discussed this with him, he confessed the depth of his urges. I told him that those urges did not worry me at all, and then I described my proposed study." "He was interested?" "He was interested but mostly relieved," Alistair explained. "He is a bachelor who seems to have no life outside the laboratory, thus he is available at almost any time." We had tea and after some more conversation, I told him I would be willing. Alistair sent me a note saying that he proposed to visit at 2:30 in the afternoon on Friday. I sent a return note confirming the appointment. The doctor and his guest arrived on time. He introduce his friend as Edgar Cary. He had described Edgar well. He was not handsome. He was of average height, slightly heavier than average and was shaped like a brick. His hair need to be cut and his black beard trimmed. He was graceless, but most masculine. When he spoke, he had the accent of the Highlands, slightly modified by residence in Edinburgh. I assumed his family were either farmers or shepherds. Those are the only two options in the highlands. We talked. His father was indeed a shepherd, but his mother was the village schoolteacher. Edgar said she was a great reader and a good teacher. He was a graduate of the University of Edinburgh. That was quite exceptional for a man of his class and background. There was more to him than met the eye. I had no idea how we could move from a pleasant conversation in the drawing room to my bedroom, but I decided to try the direct approach. He could leave if I offended him. "I assume Dr. MacDougall told you of me of my recreational interests?" I asked. "I hope he didn't misrepresent my tastes. To put it bluntly, I am interested in sexual pleasure with men. I have never found women sexually desirable." "He did indeed represent you well," Edgar replied. "I share the same interest. That is why I am here." "While I enjoy sex greatly, I have had a feeling that there are many sexual connections that could be more pleasurable. I would love to explore man sex more completely and intensify the pleasure I feel and I give to my partners," I said. "Quite frankly, it is a shock that I feel this way about sex. I was brought up to be a proper gentleman. I have discovered that it is impossible to both enjoy sex and play the gentleman at the same time. I am afraid good sex is sweaty, intense and sometimes messy. The detached refinement of gentlemanly behavior is impossible during an orgasm." "I know what you are talking about. It doesn't seem right feel so good," Edgar said. "You are a true son of Scotland!" I said. "When you wake in the morning and see that the sun is out, do you wonder what is wrong?" Edgar smiled. "I admit it did take a while to get accustomed to the balmy, almost tropical clime of Edinburgh," he said. "I have a gas heater in my bedroom," I said. "You will be shocked at the warmth." When I leased the house, I modernized it with heating and I added a bath and interior toilet. My house was very modern. Alistair had gone ahead. I assumed he was behind the screen in my room. "I know the good doctor has scientific interests, but it would seem to put a damper on one's natural inclinations," Edgar observed. "I have a suspicion his inclinations are nearer our own than he knows. It will not be a problem," I whispered. "He could have ruined my life if he wished," Edgar said. We went to my bedroom. I had the gas log on low, but turned it up to make the room warm. We undressed. The room had two large windows. I had pulled the drapes to the side, but lace curtains allowed considerable light into the room and gave us privacy. Edgar had massive shoulders and a muscular torso. His brick like appearance was due to poor tailoring. The heavy tweeds he wore concealed his body shape. He could have been a fine wrestler or boxer. His chest was hairy, but there was only a thin stream of hair connecting it to the pubic bush. His privates were all but hidden in his hairy bush. He sat on the edge of my bed and I sank to the floor a sucked the tip of his foreskin into my mouth. I briefly feared that there was no cock inside the skin. The skin was thick, and seemed excessively long. "It seems odd to be doing this in a bright room," he said. "Can you relax?' I asked. "Enjoy it." At that point, my tongue had penetrated deep enough in the skin to encounter the tip of his cock. Actually, I tasted sweet ball juices before I found the cock, more specifically his wide, oozing slit. Edgar seemed uneasy, but his balls were pumping out the sex juices I associated with sexual excitement. Edgar's cock began to fill the skin wrapper. He shivered a little and moaned. "I've never sucked much. You are good at it," he said. "You like to fuck?" I asked, taking a brief break from my sucking duties. "I do, but this is very nice," he said. "My cock is thick, but not that long. Some men complain it too thick. Yours looks manageable." "Do you take cock often?" I asked. "I'm a big man. Usually I get what I want," he said. "I was on the local Rugby team in school. There was some fooling around. It usually it was the big blokes fucking the smaller ones. I put an end to that. As a result, I eventually fucked all the smaller men. They were grateful." "Did anyone fuck you?" I asked. "A couple of the small men did when they did well in the game," Edgar replied. "It was a reward." "Am I a small man?" I asked. "To me, just about everybody is a small man," he answered. I got on the bed and we sucked each other. Edgar's cock was most responsive, so I felt appreciated. His cock was massive. An erect cock excites me and I eventually sat on it. It did indeed stretch my limits. When his cock head reached my prostate and made contact, I forgot the stretching. I do not think there was room in my ass for his cock and my prostate. It was under constant pressure and generated constant pleasure. This pressure increased every time his head moved or even jiggled. Sometimes I could barely breathe. Edger rolled me over. On my back, he was in complete control and worked in cock into me again. He began thrusting. The feelings were sensational. He did not pound me. It seemed that he was exploring my rectum. When he found a place that was particularly sensitive, he returned to it and watched my reaction. Because his tube was so filling, little movements generated great pleasure for me. "This is good," he said, "Even men who want my cock tend to whimper and whine when I'm in them. You are good with it. I don't need to worry about hurting you." He made a hard thrust and it went deeper. I would have told him it was good, but talking was difficult. The sexual sensations were so strong; I could not form a coherent thought. I suddenly felt him squirting in my ass. Edgar's ejaculations were forceful in the extreme. I think I had felt a tickling with a man before, but this was many times stronger. My cock responded and sprayed my seed across my torso. He had stopped shooting, but my own orgasm seemed to induce additional ejaculations from him. We relaxed by he left his cock in me as we cooled off. "I've never done this before," he said. "You've never done what?" "I've never gone soft in a man's arse," he explained. "It feels good." I squeezed his cock with my sphincter. "It feels really good." "Did it bother you when I shot my load into you?" he asked. "Not at all," I said. "I could feel you shooting. I enjoyed that." I squeezed my ass again. "It was good having sex without any pain," Edgar said. "I never do a man who doesn't want it, but it can still be a challenge." "It was good, you have a delicate touch," I said. Our session broke up, and the professor went to his home. "Were you uncomfortable with the doctor watching?" I asked. "At first, but once we got into you I forgot he was there," Edgar said. "Did you enjoy it?" "I did. For years, I worried about my tastes, but I may have outgrown that. I do not flaunt my interests like Mr. Wilde, but I freely admit I like men and I like sex with them." "I wish I could fine other playmates who are at ease," Edgar said. "Most of my interludes have been quick and not entirely satisfying." "That was the case with me too," I said. "While it wasn't satisfying, I never seemed to pass up an opportunity." Edgar laughed. "That is exactly the same with me!" "Last week I went to a Turkish bath and encountered several like spirits there," I said. "Would you be interested in joining me there? I think you might enjoy it." He asked me about it and I gave him the full details. He said he was interested. Raleigh had told me the bath was open on Sunday for men who had special tastes. Raleigh told me he enjoyed it greatly. Edgar and I agreed to visit Sunday morning. The owner was a Turk and it was open on our Sabbath. We met at Edgar's lodgings near the University and walked to the Alhambra. All business were closed on Sunday, but the baths were set back in an alley and there was no indication it was open. I knocked on the door and it promptly opened. Ali was at the door, not the turbaned Scott. "It is so good to see you again," he said. "You have a guest? That is good. There is no fee today. We are not officially open. It is not necessary to be covered at all time today either." He was behind a counter, and stood. The towel was around his neck, but his genitals were exposed. A man I did not know took us to the locker room. He too wore only towel around his neck. The steam room had perhaps ten men there. Raleigh saw me and came over to us. I introduced Edgar. I was a little uneasy about Edgar who was reserved and not out going. That was a foolish worry. The men in the steam room weren't interested in conversational skills. Omar, the owner of the establishment, came over to us. Not only was he nude, he was also semi-erect. That was all that Edgar needed to feel at home at the baths. Edgar's cock responded and no other introduction was needed for anyone. About half the men were Turks or Levantine, and the rest were Scots. It was a mixture of dark, hairy men and pale hairy men. Two men were under thirty but the rest were mature. I was soon talking to with an outgoing Armenian carpet merchant. He was fierce looking, but cheerful and pleasant. He had a Lebanese partner, Anthony, who liked Edgar. The atmosphere was exciting, but exotic. It was strange to be naked when I was accustomed to wearing several layers of heavy woolen clothes. Many of the men were overtly affectionate. Shaking hands was the most affectionate gesture I had even known. Not only were the men affectionate, they were overtly sexual and unafraid of sexual conversation or contact. They were comfortable and casual about sexual contact and connections. If I had been on an undiscovered continent it could hardly have been more different from what I expected. Some of this was due to Omar. He opened the baths two years earlier and had been having the Sunday events for 18 months. These men were regular attendees, and they were used to the openness of the events. The men were here by invitation. Omar and Ali selected men who would enjoy it. Apparently, Raleigh was also on the membership committee. Omar had a problem judging Scottish men; Raleigh did not. Everyone was a friend, or a friend of a friend. It was a congenial group. I realized that being a nice man and friendly was not the only requirement. All the men had a strong sexual drive. Some might say they were over-sexed and wanted sexual connections with other men. There were no shrinking violets or wallflowers in the group. There were several shy men, but once the sexual atmosphere heated up they joined in with gusto. I was a bit surprised that I had been invited. I thought of myself as a quiet gentleman of a restrained nature. That was true in most situations, but it did not apply to sexual encounters. It seemed to me that I was good about resisting all temptations except for sexual ones. Thus, I found myself sucking the cock of an Armenian carpet merchant and savoring the rich brew that oozed from his cock. He was appreciative and grateful that I was willing to stimulate his organ. While there were a number of men in the room, our activities did not cause a stir. I think they had other plans. I realized that I was in a room where everyone was interested in man sex. Cock sucking was the normal activity, not an exceptional event. George, my Armenian rug merchant, was a long time member of the group. A friend came up to him and they talked, seemingly oblivious that was sucking his cock. The man offered me his cock, to vary the experience. The friend, whose name was Alfred, had seemed casual in his conversation, but his cock was dripping man juice. His casualness was a pretense. When my lips caressed his cock head, the drips turned into a flow. "My new friend is skilled, is he not?" George asked. "Indeed he is, and he's a handsome lad to boot!" Alfred replied. I looked up at the man. He was big and imposing and had a mutton-chop style beard. I stood and George introduced me to the man. Alfred was a handsome man of sixty or so. "You are a good addition to Omar's harem. He avoids boys and youths. They are too much trouble. Twenty and thirty year olds are the best," Alfred said. "My only problem if finding men who find old men like me attractive." "Surely they find part of you attractive?" I said as I stroked his impressive tool. "You are manly." I leaned near to him. "Your cock juices were manly too." He smiled. "I have more where that comes from," he said. "Do you like the thicker, creamier stuff too?" I nodded. "My cock bends downward and I can shoot it directly down the throat. I tend to shoot what an American friend of my said is a gully-washer." "I like to milk the organ," I said. "I am getting too hot. Let's adjourn to a cooler room," Alfred said. We went to the small room. Omar was in the room. He held a small vial of lubricant. I laid back on a long bench and Ali lubricated my hole. He also poured some on Alfred's tool. The bench had no arms so Alfred put my legs on his shoulders and nosed his cock into my well-lubricated ass. "I take it that you are not a virgin and you know what I am planning to do," he said. I smiled. "I am planning to take my time, but you know sometimes the penis has its own needs." "I understand. You do what feels best for you and I will let you know if anything is a problem," I said. "Has anything been a problem before?" he asked. I smiled and he pushed. His long, curved organ slipped in easily. The light in the room was better than in the steam room. As his cock slipped deeper in me, I recognized him as Sir Alfred Dunmore, the Chief Superintendent of Police. I almost shot off, but was able to control it. Knowing who he was increased my excitement.