Date: Mon, 1 Feb 2021 10:42:48 -0500 From: Bob Subject: Back Home With Old Friends 2 Back Home with Old Friends 2 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 comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com. Sex had seemed different at Woody's party and with Tommy and Moses. Of course, we were all older and more experienced. I was more experienced than the other men. I had been afraid I might had become a virgin again in the two years I was with my parents, but I soon discovered that sex is like riding a bike. You never lose the skill. I admit sex with Woody's pals seemed fresh and new. When I was in High School, homosexuals were never mentioned. Homosexually was not discussed. I some ways the hometown guys were still there, but they were able to at least admit gay men existed. They knew that messing around was not just guys letting off steam; it was sex. Getting together with another man was a big deal and rare for them. Sometimes sex was rare for me, but I had found several friends with benefits, and knew men who were usually interested. I was 45 when I encountered two retired men who had what they called "little meat and greets." These were sex parties with ten or fifteen men. The guest were mostly regulars, old friends, and acquaintances. There always were few new guests. A few of these were too shy or uneasy to participate. This was rare, most jumped in the deep end of the sexual pool. All men have a sex drive. Some want a leisurely trip down a country lane. Most men prefer driving seventy miles an hour down an Interstate. The men who had the parties were mismatched. One was a High School science teacher, the other was a probation officer. The guest list was carefully selected. Both of the hosts could immediately identify troubled men. I learned a lot about sex from these parties. At first, the parties were low key and relaxed. I have since realized that low key and relaxed is nice, but cocks don't like low key. I suspect they aren't much into relaxed either. When I was a kid, my cock was for aiming piss. As I got older, I realized it is a sperm conduit. Cocks also have a strong preference for releasing sperm in soft, tight, warm places. At first, I thought that place was a mouth. I was later surprised that my ass loved accommodating a hard, blunt instrument. The next time I connected with Moses he had finished cutting the grass. I asked him in for a cold drink. He knew exactly what I wanted. We were naked ten minutes later. Moses' cock was not an invader in my ass. It was a friend looking for some fun with another friend. He was exploring new sensations and feelings. I was both providing the site for his explorations and sharing his pleasure. Of course, I knew the preview of coming events. I sensed him getting harder and twitching when he found a good place. Moses suddenly pushed as deep as he could go, and I felt him ejaculate. I tightened my sphincter to hold him in. He seemed to shoot for several minutes. I knew that wasn't possible. When he stopped, I told him to pull out slowly. I wanted to get every drop of his cum. "Do you get to fuck me now?" he asked. "I like men who are fully loaded when I fuck them. If you are interested, we could do this another day," I said. "I would like that a lot," he said. It was nearing dinner time, so he dressed, and he went home. Two days later just after the sun set, Teddy came by with a friend, Xavier. I took me a minute to realize Xavier was an extremely nervous priest. I later found out that they were visiting me because I was an ultra-reformed Presbyterian. Xavier was afraid of playing with another Catholic. He saw himself as the shepherd of the flock and he couldn't betray any of his sheep. Xavier was thirty, thin and tall. He was Hispanic and his family was proud he was now a priest. He had a moral code that would have made 17th Century Puritans seem like crazed libertines. That had made it difficult to deal with his parishioners' problems. Teddy was helping him to find peace with himself. Teddy thought that his friend needed a massive orgasm to relieve the pressure. It turns out Teddy had used the "do unto other as you would have done to you," approach to sex to change Xavier's mind. It worked. It turns out that Teddy told him that I was both Protestant and horny as hell. Xavier was a good-looking man. His father was Italian, and his mother was Spanish. We went to my bedroom and showered. When a man is uneasy about sex, showers seem to improve the situation. Xavier was a tall otter, both hairy and hung. I think he wanted to be aloof and unemotional. I don't think that he was experienced enough to know that your body has its own approach to sex. That approach does not include aloof and impersonal. His cock was half hard as soon as he was in the shower. I fondled his balls and then dropped to my knees and sucked him. He was already oozing precum. Teddy had his arm around Xavier's shoulders. "I told you Jonathan was a nice guy," he said. "Do I need to reciprocate?" Xavier asked. "No, nothing is required except for you to enjoy yourself," Teddy replied. "Relax and go with the flow. Jonathan knows what he is doing." "Even if I . . ." Xavier asked. "I know for a fact that Johnathan likes man seed, especially if it's fresh," Teddy replied. Xavier promptly shot off. It was over. They dressed and left. Xavier said thank you before he left. I had known men whose interest in sex dropped to zero immediately after shooting off, so I wasn't offended or that surprised. I was surprised when Xavier knocked on my door two days two days later. I asked him in. "I liked what you did the other day," he said when we were inside. "Thank you was not enough to say how much I liked it. Did I offend you?" "No," I replied. "Sex is not one size fits all. Different men react differently and like different activities." "You told me I didn't have to suck you," he said. "Since I was here, I have been thinking about that a lot." I smiled. "If I thought a lot meant all the time, would I be wrong?" I asked. He smiled. "Not exactly all the time," he said. "Think of that as just normal curiosity," I said. "If you don't like it fine, you satisfied your curiosity." "What if I liked it?" he asked. "You've discovered a new hobby," I said. "Your life became more enjoyable and richer. Do you want to give it a try again?" I knew the answer already and we went to my bedroom. Let's just say, as Xavier's lips caressed my cock head, he was not struck dead by a lightening bolt, and the Virgin Mary did not descend from heaven and tell him he was a bad boy. Luckily for Xavier, he was a born cock sucker, a natural. I would like to claim that was due to my impressive genitals, but that wasn't true. I am not sure until then Xavier realized that sex is a natural part of life. I don't know if he had thought that sex was an added feature inserted into men by the devil, or if it was something like a high-powered radio added to the "basic" model of a car. From an evolutionary viewpoint, sex is an essential part of all animal life. It is intensely pleasurable for a reason. He sucked me with increasing enthusiasm, then we got on the bed and sixty-nined. The do unto others aspect of the sixty-nine-position worked well for Xavier. We shot off at the same time. He thought that was almost magic. The second I tasted his sperm in my mouth, my cock gave up effort to hold back. Xavier love sharing our body fluids. We talked for a while and I realized the Xavier had not understood the difference between masturbation and having sex with another man. I think he was unaware of the spectacular intensification of the sensations and pleasure. After ten or fifteen minutes, I noticed his cock was erect again. I reached over and played with it. A little later I discovered that his cock and my ass were a perfect fit. Xavier discovered the same thing. Since he had shot off already that day, I had a long ride. We tried doggy style and on my back. I think he liked me on my back so he could thrust as hard as he could. He warned me that he was going to shoot again. I told him I loved the tickling sensation of sperm spurting in my ass. A few minutes later, he shot off. We rested and then he went home. I took a nap. Around three in the afternoon, Moses came by to work in the garden. He mowed the lawn, trimmed some bushes, and attacked any weeds that dared to invade the garden. He had learned his gardening knowledge from his grandmother who had firm beliefs about gardening and weeds. The improvement of my garden was noted by the neighbors, and Moses had picked up additional jobs. Tommy was his business manager and made sure he was paid. Moses wasn't into numbers and one of two people tried to get a bargain rate. Tommy took care of that problem. After Moses finished, he came in the house and showered. We then had a sexual interlude. We sucked and them he fucked me. I told him I had a load in my ass left by a friend that morning. He seemed to like that, and he told me that if Tommy fucked me, he would liked to use his cum as lube. Moses was a relaxed top, excepting his cock, of course. He eased his cock into me and played and was able to stay just short of an orgasm for twenty to thirty minutes. He liked to play with my cock as he fucked, and he collected my sperm on his finger when I shot off. He licked it from his finger but didn't take it directly from my cock. When he shot off in my ass, I had an odd feeling that his cum had found a nice home away from home. He showered again and went home. Years earlier, when I was the chairman of the department it took quiet a bit of work to find enough time and privacy to sexually connect with another man. I hadn't had any free time with my parents. My father had been bed ridden, but Mom's dementia meant she was a free spirit, going wherever she wanted at any time she wanted. I kept the outside doors locked and told her we had to be careful about burglars. Inside the house a closed door was a challenge for her. Sometimes she forgot how to use the doorknobs and she got disturbed. It seemed like a new world when I could have men over for sexual play now. I hadn't been abele to have visitors over for two years. As a former wining football coach, Woody was well known. He said he was a big man in a small town. He told me had a few chances to move up to college level football, but he didn't do it. "I have a realistic view of my own talents," he told me, "I was good here, but I didn't think they would impress in the bigger leagues. Maybe in theory trying and failing is admirable, but it's not rewarding." Eventually I realize he knew every gay man in town and may be in the surrounding counties. He let a few men know that I shared their interests. One afternoon I was walking down Main Street when I saw a woman in a SUV tee-bone a pickup. The woman was the mayor's wife; the driver of the truck was a dirt farmer. There were other people around, but I was the only one was a clear view of the accident. The mayor's wife claimed the farmer hit her. The farmer was just a guy and she was the Mayor's wife. I told the police my story, but a week later an investigator, Greg Munson, came to see me about the accident. I told him the story again. Greg made a few half-hearted efforts to see if I might have missed seeing all of the accident. I told him that I had told him exactly what I saw, and there was no other way I could tell it. I don't think Greg's heart was in the investigation. Higher ups were hoping for a different story. "Woody said you were a friend of his. He coached my son," Greg mentioned as he got ready to leave. I said we had been neighbors as kids. Greg smiled and said, "He told me you have had some good times since you got back." "We did. I was nice to rekindle old friendships since I got back," I said. "Woody and I have had some good times too. I'm not sure my good times were as good as your good times," Greg said as he scratched his balls. "He said you were more imaginative than he remembered. I tend to get in a rut." "To tell you the truth, I was surprised Woody was as open minded as he was," I said. "Pleasantly surprised. Things got a bit up close and personal." Greg smiled. "Woody told me he didn't remember you were as big as you are." "You like things big?" I asked. "I think I do, but I need more experience to know for sure," Greg said. Five minutes later we were naked in my bedroom. I had thought Greg was a big but a bit dumpy. He did not impress me. Greg had bad taste in clothes, he seemed taller and quite muscular nude. He wasn't a muscleman, but he was in good shape. He had a pepper and salt hairy chest and a treasure trail to his bush. He looked at me and my cock and said, "Shit, I'm in fucking love!" as he dropped to his knees to suck my cock. That comment cleared up the question about his size-queen tendencies. He was enthusiastic but quite gentle. His approach to cock sucking became almost religious. He was worshiping at an oozing cock shrine. I got him on the bed and was able to suck him as he sucked me. Greg had big balls, and an average cock that served as a precum dispenser. I like precum since it is a precursor of the orgasm. Greg's cock drool was major attraction in its own right. While Greg was a shy, uptight cop, his dribbling cock head told a different story. His genitals were ready to boogie. I was much more excited than I expected. He was downright affectionate. We took a little break to catch our breaths. He was still hard and his precum coated cock looked glazed. On a whim, I got up, straddled him, and sat on his cock. Greg's precum was more than enough to ease his cock's penetration of my ass. His bulbous knob slipped past my sphincter easily. Greg looked shocked an then me moaned. His cock was average, but it was as if it had been designed to stimulate my prostate. It was a direct hit. Little movements of my ass sent waves of pleasure through my body. I desperately wanted to shoot off, but somehow his cock seemed to block my attempts to get relief. I felt the way you do just before you pop, but I couldn't shoot. Logically, I could have just gotten off his cock. My cock and prostate had other plans. I am not sure how long I was skewered on Greg's tool, but Greg eventually came to my rescue. He had an explosive orgasm. His spurting cum induced my orgasm. I matched each of his ejaculations with my own. He was moaning as several of my volleys landed in his mouth. Eventually we both calmed down and the ejaculations subsided. We kissed and I tasted my own cum in his mouth. His cock slipped out of my ass and we were both close to sleeping. While I'm not exactly a virgin, that was a level of sexual intimacy I had never experienced before. It was new for Greg too. He had never fucked a guy before; he had never had a hand's free orgasm and never tasted another man's sperm before. I knew that sexual intimacy with another man was possible. I suspected Greg had never experienced it. "Did I hurt you?" he asked. "No, it was the opposite of hurt," I said. "Your cock was made for my ass." "That's the way it felt for me," he replied. "It was," he paused, "beautiful. I've felt anything like it." We talked for a while and he had to get back to work. Greg was a middle-aged policeman. I wasn't sure he would come back. I had been good, but it might have been too much. He was married too. I asked Woody about him a few days later. Woody told me he was a nice guy. His wife had left him a year earlier to connect with a high school sweet-heart. "That must have been a blow," I said. "Not really. She was difficult. I ran into her a few times. Let's just say it was a few to many times," he said. "His son is in the army and overseas most of the time," Woody explained. "Lonely?" I asked. "I don't think so. He seemed relieved. His ex was a nagger. I think he liked the quiet." Woody explained. A day later Greg came to see me. He said he didn't want me to think he was avoiding me. "It was all a lot to process. I knew how I reacted to it, but it wasn't the way I thought I should have reacted," he said. I knew how it felt, but I was confused." "Back when we were in school, I thought I was the only one who felt the way I did. I thought I was different and in high school you don't want to be different, at least that different," I said. "I wanted to look at the guys in the showers, but I was afraid to." Greg smiled. "I was a jock, and I could look, but not for long," he said. "I didn't know what you could do." "The strange thing is that I had no idea what the possibilities were. In college it figured that out to some extent. I was in my forties when I understood the possibilities," I said. "I never figured that out. keeping my wife happy was next to impossible," Greg said. "I have figured that out since then. She married the wrong man. She was always in love with another man. Nothing I could do would make me him." "It took me a while to understand that sex is a part of everyone's life," I said. "It's not an add on like a car's add on feature. I thought of sex as a fancy stereo system for the car. It's closer to being the engine than the stereo. Even though I knew other men felt the same way I did, I seem to think it was only me. I was alone." "You don't think I'm the only gay cop?" he asked. I laughed, "I had guessed there were other gay English Professors. I didn't guess there were gay guys everywhere, digging ditches, flying planes, working in banks." "How did you get over that feeling?" he asked. "Well, my cure is not morally uplifting. I had some friends who had small gay parties with 10 to 12 nude, friendly men. More importantly, all were into sex. After twenty minutes I realized it was okay to look." I explained. "After an hour, it seemed normal to touch and suck." "I finally realized sex with men was okay. No one was expecting to find Mr. Right. I felt free. We all shared more or less common interests. It was no fault sex. I didn't find true love, but I made some friends and playmates. We were all free to enjoy each other. We could do what we liked, and watch other guys do what they liked, and we were free to join in." "Did you join in?" Greg asked. "I did and I have no regrets," I replied.