Date: Tue, 24 Aug 2021 15:33:04 -0400
From: Bob <rwinarch47@gmail.com>
Subject: Belle Air House

The Belle Air House

By Bald Hairy Man 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
winarch47@yahoo.com

The Belle Air House is a 1960 era motel built on a major highway. The
construction of an interstate ten miles away ruined its business. Business
was poor, but when a bridge washed out in a flood it got much worse. It
converted the road to the motel into a dead end.

It sat well back on a 50-acre lot which had been part of a dairy farm. The
motel closed and the farmland filled with second growth woods. The former
motel was all but invisible from the road now. The Belle Air had been
intended to become an upscale resort and was well built. The building
remained in good condition, and the owners took care of minor repairs.

When the original owners died, the heirs sold it to Malcomb Justice, an
artist-film maker. Malcomb's main achievement in life was outliving his
parents, uncles, and aunts. Malcomb inherited considerable sums from them.

As a sculptor his works would have been impressive if he had a trace of
talent. They were large, but graceless. He later turned to films he
described as deep investigations of erotic imagination. The casual viewer
might regard them porn with poor focus.

Malcomb intended to make the Belle Air into his studio and a home for his
actors. This odd combination was due to his sexual tastes. He was attracted
to men who were either very wealthy or down on their luck and
desperate. Unlike many non-self-made men, he was generous and kind to
all. The men were gay and weren't demanding when selecting sexual partners.

While the titillation of having sex with the men was exciting, the threat
of disease and death could have reduced the titillation. Malcomb solved
that problem when he gave a suite to Doctor Willy and his nurse Jake. Willy
was sixty-five years old, semi-retired and sexually driven. Jake was his
long-time companion. They liked bareback sex and sperm. Thus, they tested
every resident and visitor for sexual diseases.

The Belle Air provided a safe place to live and fornicate. Some were also
paid, fed, and housed. They could appear in the movies if they were
interested. They didn't need to have sex with anyone they didn't like. That
was rare. The men were versatile and not prone to say no to anyone.

The movies included some stars, well established porn actors and ordinary
guys who just like getting their rocks off. There was a focus on orgasms
and sperm. In the "art" videos, there were no tricks to fake an
orgasm. Malcomb said everything was spontaneous, fresh, quivering, and
sticky.

I am Gill Andrews, a cameraman. I specialize in close up shots. I worked
with Billy Smith who did the general views. This wasn't my dream job. I was
desperate for work. I had worked on a major movie that was a total
flop. The director intimated my poor camera work was reason for the
failure. The director demanded it be dark and brooding. I gave it to him,
and it was too dark.

The head camera man, Billy, was a semi-retired with experience from major
networks. His specialty was panel shows. Since they were shot live, he had
to be ready for the unexpected. While most were sedate and calm, some
guests were loose cannons and Billy had to quickly adapt as
necessary. Loose cannons and inexperienced people were the basic porn
actor.

At first, I thought Malcomb was just using these sad men. That wasn't
true. They had problems but crazed sex was ideal for them. They thought
they had found the perfect job. Buster, Charlie, Freddy, and Donnie were
the original stable of amateur actors. We added others as the studio grew.

Buster who used the stage name of Ruff Stuffing, was a big, muscular, hairy
guy who had a brain injury. He could function as long as it wasn't too
complicated.  He was fully functional sexually and once he was hard; he was
on automatic pilot.

Charlie, Charlemagne, was a former minor league baseball player. An
accident had slightly deformed his face, so he looked scary. His cock was a
world's fair exhibit, and he had a remarkable ability to get it into tight
spaces. He was a Black man, who liked fucking white guys and equally
enjoyed taking white cocks.

Freddy was the perfect red headed Irishman and used the stage name Fergus
Malloy. His pal was Donnie.  Donnie was thirty years old and looked like a
teenager. Innocent and clueless was his specialty. He was genuinely
clueless, but I wasn't so sure of the innocent aspect. Malcomb was
oversexed too, and that combined with his wealth meant he had many
friends. These included upper class friends and porn stars.

At first, Billy and I were on call whenever sex was particularly hot.  That
was too demanding, and it was hard to catch the beginnings of a sexual
outbreak. We decided it would be better to schedule events. We had room
labeled the Honeymoon Suite. If our guests liked early morning sex, they
signed up for the room. This provided more intimate episodes. At two in the
afternoon, we were at the exercise room or the pool for either individual
couplings or orgies. Two or three of our regulars were always available and
usually a star would be there too.

A few stars were only tops, but our men were 100% versatile, as were most
Malcomb's friends. Malcomb was a good guy but not exceptional. His friends
liked him, but they loved sex more. Malcomb's friends ranged from tea party
queens to auto mechanics. Some might spend a week or more at Belle Air
enjoying the atmosphere and the men.

Belle Air had been open for four months when the first major porn star
visited.  Hot-2-Trot was the nom- de-cock of Greg Newland. He was in his
mid-forties and looked good to me. For much of standard porn audience he
was over the hill.

That was not the way anyone at the Belle Air Home saw him. He was a hunk.
Malcomb said that while he had aged a little, his cock was still
young. Greg also had a taste for more gritty porn and wanted natural sex,
bare and with man juices. Greg quickly got to know the men who lived at the
Belle Air and a few of Malcomb's pals.

The weekend Greg visited, Malcomb's guests included Tom, a weight trainer
and Dave, a massage therapist.  Both worked at his favorite health
club. Also visiting were Morris, a well-tanned playboy and Cornell, who
didn't mention his job. I found out Cornell was an Episcopal priest.

Malcomb's videos were not going to win any awards. Some had plots, but
others were just casually linked episodes. They were popular because Billy,
the main camera man had a steady hand and produced sharp, clear images. I
produced the close-up shots. My shots were sharp and clear too. I included
detailed close ups of all penetrations and orgasms. Malcomb said I was the
master of pokes and squirts. I caught every twitch, shiver, and squirt of
an orgasm. Nothing was ever faked in our videos.

Everyone got along well the night before the shoot. The plot was simple. A
stranded motorist, Greg, walked to the motel to phone for help. The only
nearby repair shop was closed, and the motorist had to spend the night. The
only other guests were there for a birthday party for a friend, Morris.

Morris asked Greg to join in since he was alone and stranded. Somehow the
birthday party involved skinny dipping "like they used to do as kids."
There was some looking, fondling, sucking, and fucking as the men got
drunker.

Greg said that sounded good and it wouldn't stretch his acting abilities
too much. That caused some laughter. The shoot was a success.

I was surprised to end up with Cornell in my bedroom. "I'm new to this kind
of stuff. I like it, but I'm not sure I'm doing it right," he said.  He
looked rather sheepish. He was tall, scrawny, and hairy. His cock was seven
inches and only semi-erect.

"I don't want to sound like a jaded man of the world, but with a cock like
yours, guys will make allowances," I said. I demonstrated the point by
dropping to my knees and sucking him. His cock filled out immediately.

"I have a friend who says my cock drips too much. It makes a mess," he all
but whispered.

"You friends must be a neat freak," I said. "Here at the Belle Air, it's
considered to be the food of the gods. It's the regular, low octane
stuff. The high-test spurts later."

"You like it?" he asked. I nodded. A little later were we on the floor in
the 69 position. He quickly discovered the joys of pre-cum enhanced, cock
sucking. I wondered if he would take cum too. Fortunately, he shot off
first. I was taking his load when I popped. Since it coincided with his own
orgasm. He hardly noticed he was taking my special brew.

We cooled off, and he asked if his cum was okay? I told him it was fine. It
wasn't as sweet as precum but eating a man's cum is intimate and
exciting. We fell asleep and woke with morning hard-ons. I sucked him
again.

The morning shoot began at 9:00. In real movies they shoot the scenes in
the most efficient way. We shot them in chronical order. That made it
easier for the guys to understand the plot.

Malcomb had a rule that there would always be an orgasm within the first
ten to fifteen minutes of the video. The audience would lose interest
otherwise. Billy would shoot the scene, but I would take some closeups. I
would take additional close ups later. That way I could get closer and get
more detail. I also took close ups of as many additional orgasms as I could
get. While you can identify the actors, it's difficult to identify the
cocks. If you have seen one ejaculating cockhead, you have seen them all.

While Cornell was not in the video, his cock was. He shot prolific and
generous loads and they photographed well. Later I discovered he had a
photogenic ass. It was small and pretty with a little rosebud in the
middle. It was elastic, and oversized cocks could stretch it wide. That was
a turn on to watch as it stretched to accommodate a monster cock. It didn't
close immediately after the cock pulled out. If I moved quickly, I could
catch the quivering sperm in the gaping hole.

Ruff Stuffing had volunteered to be the bottom. He said that as long as his
ass got stretched, he was happy. Greg (Hot-to-Trot) said he like to top,
but his cock was a bit large for a virgin. That caused a great deal of
laughter.

"Innocent though I am, my motto has always been, "Start at the top!" Buster
added to more gales of laughter.

The men stripped and jumped in the water. There was a lot of splashing and
yelling until things settled down to comparatively quiet fondling and
sucking. Eventually the men went to their rooms to get to know each other
better. We filmed each couple separately.

Since most porn involved men who barely knew each other, there was minimal
romance. There was intense emotion, and I had a knack for exposing intimate
moments.  Greg tended to kiss the cock he had just drained. As the last
drop of cum drooled from the cock of his playmate, Greg would lick the drip
and then he kissed the cock head. The head was still tender from the orgasm
and twitched.

Cornell was quite shy and uneasy fearing he would be recognized by a
parishioner. You had to be deep in the gay subculture to be into know about
Malcomb's videos.  Cornell's maiden aunt had died several years earlier and
left him a bundle.  I found out he resigned for his church and was now
inactive. His worries were unfounded.

He was not attractive when dressed, his clothes were old and didn't fit. He
looked slightly off. Naked he looked like a poorly assembled collection of
attractive features, at least for a gay man with fetishes. He was
impressively hairy for men who had a hair fetish. His cock appealed to size
queens. He had huge balls and was one of the rare men who had a photogenic
asshole. It quivered when a cock touched it. And sometimes you sensed it
would open and caress the knob as it entered him.

The residents of Belle Air Home nicknamed his cock "Old Faithful." It made
a mess when he shot off.  That was ideal for our videos. His cock twitched
for each ejaculation, and when he pulled out of an ass, it looked like
there was a waterfall from his co-star's ass. The first time he did that
was with Charlemagne, our former black baseball player. The visual effect
of Cornell's sperm and Charlemagne ass was stunning. Ruff Stuffing licked
up the drool, and then worked his tongue into the ass. Charles pushed out
more cum. You could see the pink interior of his ass. Ruff's pink tongue
caressed the open hole, coaxing more sperm from deeper in the ass. Visually
the pink tongue, black ass and white sperm was lovely.

Malcomb loved it exclaiming, "Now that is bareback!"

Buster, i.e., Ruff Stuffing, got to be a friend. He was big, blond, and
hairy. The brain damage was serious, but he could function most of the
time. I took charge of his finances. He was on disability and had some pay
for the acting. He lived at Belle Air for free. Somehow scammers got his
name. I took care of them. I had discovered an anti-scam organization. If I
found some of the scammer's information, and soon life took a turn for the
worse for them.

Buster was always ready for sex. He lost some of his impulse control
apparently due to the brain damage. His room was next to mine. He would
wake up in the middle of the night and come to see me. I would lubricate
his cock and he would fuck me for ten or fifteen minutes until he shot
off. He was a big boy, but my ass fit his cock like a glove.

He forgot things he should remember, such as the name of the thing you cut
up food with. He wasn't too embarrassed to ask me. The minute I said knife,
all was well. He had no memory of the brain damage, so he thought he was
getting stupid. We became roommates and friends.

We had guest stars regularly. Most were over-the-hill porn stars. Some were
younger men who had a history of substance abuse. Many of them were
sexually out of practice. Buster was the perfect coach to get retired asses
into shape. It wasn't the guys; it was their assholes that needed the
exercise.

Malcomb had a firm rule the no orgasm went unrecorded. He thought it was a
waste to shoot a load and not use it in a video.  Since I was the close-up
guy, I was recorded the event. Malcomb also told me that I had a gift for
photographing cocks, balls, and assholes. He said I worked wonders with
sperm drooling out of an ass. He thought I was the Ansel Adams of fresh cum
drooling from an old ass.

I was surprised when one of the retired men was Titan. He was the
muscle-bound sex god of fifteen years earlier. He was muscular, but thicker
than before. He had been shaved smooth in the earlier videos. I knew he was
Greek, and he had let his body hair grow.

He shook hands with Ruff Stuffing, and I could tell he liked what he
saw. Titan had been living with a sugar Daddy for twelve years. He had died
and Titan was looking for something to do.

He told us that his partner had been a bottom and his ass hadn't been used
in years. He said he might need a refresher course taking it in the ass. We
stripped and he asked if he could take my cock first. I was smaller the
Ruff. That was fine with me. I gave the camera to Ruff and told him to hold
it still.

Titan and I had a nice oral interlude before we got down to fucking. Titan
had a tight ass, but I got in. He relaxed and I went in deep. When he said
he thought he was ready to take Ruff, I pulled out. I took the camera, and
Ruff got in position.

Apparently fucking is like riding a bicycle. One you have done it; you
never forget how to do it. I had seen one or two of Titan's videos. He was
90% top, but at the end of each video, the took the bottom's cock up the
ass. That was popular. No more than half of the gay men in the country
wanted to be fucked by Titan. At the end of the session Titan opened his
ass for his playmate. It was a nice thank you gesture. His ass had not lost
its ability to give pleasure.

The session was a total success. Titan was happy and asked if it would be
okay to visit us again. I told him if we were there, we would open the
door. He left and I checked the camera. Buster's work was good. he held the
camera steady, and he loved close ups of the action.

Malcomb was going to use Greg and Cornell as the other actors. As is often
the case in porn, there is little plot, and a lot of cock. I knew that was
fine for our actors. Titian liked it two. He had done fifteen-minute-long
porn for years.

On the morning of the shoot Greg vanished. That happened once and a while
and was related to a former drug problem. Buster replaced him.  Titan,
Buster and Cornell did the shoot. Since Titan had practiced with Buster and
enjoyed it, the shoot was a success. They were at ease and the shoot
appeared natural.

Malcomb was impressed by Titan and wanted him to do more videos. Titan had
been out of porn for years and had just lost his partner. Now he was
restarting a new life for as fifty-five-year-old man. He ended up living
with Buster and me. He was semi-monogamous. Professionally he took any cock
in the shoot. Personally, he wanted a small stable of regulars.

He told us that it was nice to have guys who were into it. He remembered
men from his star days who didn't notice who he was fucking as long as they
got cash.

"You may have noticed that having your cock playing tag with my prostate is
a high point of my life!" I said.

"You aren't tired of it yet?" he asked.

"You never get tired of a cock that hits all the right places," I said.