Date: Thu, 11 Jan 2018 10:16:23 -0500
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Carpenter's Town 2

Carpenters Town 2
By Bob Archman

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

If you enjoy these stories. Please consider giving a donation to Nifty!

Life at the baths settled into a regular routine.  Most men seemed to visit
on a schedule such as every other morning or Saturday mornings. Everyone
likes sex, but there were several men I described as sparkplugs. They had a
knack for encouraging more intense sex. I would have thought that young men
would play this role and I guessed they would be tops. The sparkplugs were
young, middle-aged and older men. It was more related to sex drive, than
age. They increased the energy level when they visited. Some of the older
sparkplugs were bottoms.

Wilton visited the baths once or twice a week. Wilton was not just one of
the guys. He tended to be aloof and stand-offish. The men referred to his
visits as the royal tour. He had two assets the most important of which was
nine inches of cock. His other asset was that once he was excited, he was
an enthusiastic sexual athlete and a superb playmate, skilled, open minded
and imaginative. He liked new and varied experiences. Wilton told me he had
exhausted all the options possible with one-on-one sex with handsome young
men by the time he was twenty-five. Group play at the baths was good for
him.

His interest in the baths changed when he met our head cleaning man,
Carlo. Short and hairy, Carlo was as physically unlike Wilton's handsome
young men as was imaginable. Wilton wasn't into early mornings. He seemed
to think 11:00 was the crack of dawn. He met Carlo after he had been at an
all-night party and stopped into the baths on the way home.

Carlo tended to attract men who looked like him. A regular described them
as bears, gorillas and assorted trolls. Wilton told me that he didn't mind
slumming once an awhile. Wilton was truthful about that. I realized that
ultra-hairy, ugly men turned him on. They were all man, but unattractive.
For Wilton it was sexual attraction without physical attraction, pure
sex. For Carlo and his crew, Wilton's cock automatically made friends; it
was all the introduction they needed.

I am an early riser and was at the baths I found Wilton squirming on
Carlo's cock. Carlo's fucking style has all the grace of an out of control
locomotive. I was going to come to Wilton's aid when I realized Wilton was
rock hard and enjoying it. Carlo suddenly pulled out and his right-hand
man, Taylor, took his place. Taylor was a muscular, hung Black man.

"Fuck his brains out Taylor. Fill his ass with your seed and churn it into
man butter!" Carlo said. Taylor came quickly and pulled out. Wilton had
bent over, and his hole was still open. Skeeter, a man I thought of as a
redneck's redneck came over and licked the still open hole. That was enough
to induce Wilton's orgasm. When he stood, he trapped Skeeter's tongue in
his hole. Carlo went for Wilton's spewing cock and ate the quivering sperm.

Carlo and his men went back to work. Wilton was still twitching. "Are you
okay?" I asked.

"It was great," he said. "Were you watching?" I nodded.

"I thought I had done it all, but that was a first," Wilton said.

Wilton had another quirk. He liked introducing closet cases to the wild
side. The restaurant was profitable, but Wilton didn't need the money. His
father had done well, and his mother had been an heiress. He was an only
child and got everything after they died. Wilton invested well, and the
money just accumulated. I thought his personality was off putting, but he
was a generous man, especially with respect to the arts. That, combined
with a fortune seem to make up for his personality problems.

He was well known in the right circles, a member of the right clubs and a
useful, helpful man. He could organize a charitable gala, or dinner and it
was guaranteed to be a success. He could keep the overhead low. Some galas
cost almost as much as the money they take in. Not so Wilton's events.
Wilton did favors and helped people with their businesses. To cater one of
his events meant an introduction to every hostess and event planner in the
city.

Everyone knew he was gay, but in Richmond, filthy-rich gay was not the same
as waiting tables gay. He knew everyone and tended to be everywhere, so if
you were a closeted businessman, you could associate with him without
anyone taking notice.

Every few weeks he would bring a closeted man by the baths. He would leave
him with me and go off to see Carlos and his men. The first man he brought
to the Baths was George, who owned an air-conditioning firm. He wasn't in
bad shape, but he had been better. He was uneasy.

"Where has Wilton gone?" he asked.

"He's checking the janitorial staff," I said. "That may take a while. I'm
his cousin. I assume he told you that things are laid back and casual
here. All of us have the same general interests."

George nodded, but he remained uneasy. "What am I supposed to do?" he
asked.

"It's time to go to the shower," I said. "There is one thing different here
than in most showers.  It is okay to look. That may be hard, if you are a
shy man. You can look and admire. Watch the other men and follow their
lead."

"I'm getting old and dumpy," he said.

"This is not a recruiting ground for high-fashion male models. You look
fine." I replied. We stripped and went to the shower. George was tanned,
and his blond hair was sun bleached; he liked the beach and had a pool at
home. His cock was thick, bulbous and uncut. It was nicely framed by his
bull balls.

There were three men in the shower when we entered. Tony was an Italian
chef; Mark was an artist, and Bob, a financial advisor of some sort. Mark
was tall, thin and liked the Southern Redneck look.  He was a hyper realist
painter of urban streetscapes. He made a good living as a painter, a rarity
among young painters. Mark took one look at George and began to get
hard. Later, Bob told me that Mark had a warm spot for uncut meat.

In contrast, Bob liked all cocks of any size or shape. He was a born
salesman and he tended to greet every man as a potential friend and
investor. At the bath, his greetings eventually involved genital contact.
Tony was young, but looked older because of his thick, hairy body and
shaved head. This eliminated the need for a hair net, but guys joked he
needed a hair net for his chest and back.

All three men looked at us as we entered. Even though foreplay and fondling
were acceptable in the gang shower, men tended to break apart when someone
new entered the shower. I was a regular, but George was new.

"Tim, who is your friend?" Bob asked.

"This is George, one of Wilton's pals. He's here for the first time," I
said.

"I hope you told him we're a friendly bunch," Bob said. "The first time I
came here I was uneasy meeting naked men. I'm okay with that now."

Tony laughed. "Bob's feeding you a line. He's a lot more than just okay
meeting naked guys!" he said.

Bob went to Tony and patted him on the ass.  "I think we are all pretty
comfortable with that!"  he said.

Everyone laughed. I introduced the men. Mark relocated to the showerhead
next to George and me. Mark soaped up, paying considerable attention to his
cock and ass. George knew that routine and did the same. Mark was well
beyond half staff by the time George's tool reacted. Another man entered
the baths. It was Milton, a regular, older patron of the baths.

"Would you wash my back?" Mark asked George. George was fine with that. A
little later, Mark was on his knees with his tongue exploring George's
foreskin. Bob, Tony and Milton came closer, screening George and Mark from
the entrance. This wasn't necessary, but since George was new to the baths,
a little privacy would be nice.

I leaned over and whispered to George, "Mark can stop anytime you want him
to stop. He likes man seed, and he will take yours unless you tell him no,"
I said. George tensed up. I thought it was because he was shocked, but he
was shooting off. Mark obeyed the bath rules and took every drop.

"Are you okay?" I asked George.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I was that close," he said.

Mark looked up, "Damn, Christmas came early," he said with his cum filled
mouth. He stuck out his tongue and licked a blob of semen from George's
slit. George had another ejaculation. Mark swallowed the cock again and
took it all.

"Maybe, I better go home," George said once he stopped ejaculating.

"If you can recharge your sperm supply over the next ten or twenty minutes,
I would sure like a refill," Mark said. Much to my surprise George stayed.
Milton had rented a cubical and they all went there. I stayed in the group
showers and was soon joined by Billy Dee and his boy, Len.

Billy Dee was in his mid-eighties. He always came with his boy, a
thirty-five-year-old named Lennard, who was always called Len. Len was
sometimes Billy's house boy, sometime his nephew and sometimes his
helper. Len was your average guy with nice equipment, muscular and
agreeable. He fully functioned as an adult on daily tasks, was trusting and
followed orders. Guessing his mental age was a problem. He could read some
words and could add and subtract.

Len liked sex with men, and connected with Billy long before he hired him
as a helper. Billy had prostate cancer and was no longer sexually active.
Len became Billy's protector after Len's mother died.  Billy was worried
about Len's future. He was checking out men to find Len a new protector
after he died.  Len liked man sex, but he didn't care with whom he
played. If the sex was good, Len didn't recognize the danger signs of
problematic playmate. He was trusting and couldn't tell if a man was making
fun of him, was overcontrolling or prone to violence. Len asked me to help,
since he thought I had good judgement.

Sometimes I am shocked at how dense I can be. While I helped Billy with his
search for a home for Len, I hadn't realized I was Billy's choice. Len
would do anything you asked or told him to do. He had helped his mother and
she had taught him how to do house work, clean and take care of the lawn
and garden. She and Billy treated him well.

Billy knew there was a darker side to some people. Len had discovered sex
due to a next-door neighbor. At first the sex had been good and Len liked
it. The neighbor shared him with some of his friends two of whom had taste
for BSDM. Len didn't like that, but he was obedient as his mother had
taught him. Billy knew one of the neighbor's friends and went to an event
that turned out to be an orgy. This was just after Len's mother had died
and he was living alone in her house.

Two weeks later Len moved in with Billy and he was away from the neighbors
and his pals. Billy was a perky 70-year-old at that time and he set up a
trust with the funds from the sale of his mother's house. That worked out
well. Len had a good job and Billy and his friends took care of Len's
sexual needs. Billy described his pals as old queens, but they were
experienced and gave the young man pointers on how to provide sexual
satisfaction. For Len sex was intensely pleasurable and required no
complicated instructions or training. All was well until the old queens
began to move to Florida and die off. Len wasn't exactly unhappy, but he
would have liked more sex.  The baths opened just in time for Billy and
Len. Billy was losing his friends and it was hard for an elderly man to
find new playmates and someone to take care of Len. There were dozens of
men who might help at the baths.

Len loved the baths and the men liked him. He was ready, willing and
able. His cock was not too big, but not too small. His ass was muscular and
tight. One of Billy's friends had taught him to jerk off a guy using his
sphincter. That was a much-admired skill.  Billy was a character and I
would talk with him as Len sucked me off.

During one conversation, Billy told me that Len liked to top. Billy was
looking for a bottom. I knew he was trying to get me to volunteer. I said
that while I had bottomed a few times, I wasn't my favorite activity. Billy
told me is a carefully worded way, that Billy had taken buckets of my cream
and I might let Len make deposit in me. "You know he limited in many ways,
but there is nothing wrong with his cock or cum," Billy added. The
suggestion that I was taking advantage of Len was enough to change my mind.

A few days after that conversation I was at the baths when Rocky was giving
a guy a massage in the gang showers and Len came joined us. Rocky was
taking his time massaging his client. It was clear the client was receptive
and Rocky would soon be massaging the ass with his cock. Len liked to
watch, and he was already erect.

"It's pretty," I said as I stroked his cock.

Len smiled, "Do you want to suck it?" he asked.

"I would like that. Do you ever fuck?" I asked. "I might like that too."

Len smiled again. "I do, but I usually shoot off. Some guys don't want my
seed in them."

"I think I might like that," I replied. The shower room had soap
dispensers, but there were several bottles of lube too. They had been
"forgotten" by clients and were available when men unexpectedly needed
lube. Len lubricated his cock. I bent over and used the hot and cold-water
taps for support.

Len nudged his knob into my exposed hole. I felt uncomfortable when my hole
was exposed. Assholes never seems attractive to me. He pushed and popped
through my sphincter. Once he was in, I relaxed and was comfortable. My
hole was no longer on display. His cock head slid in deep and then he
pulled it out as far as my prostate, and began rubbing the tender gland.  I
realized his cock head was bigger than I expected, and that Len knew he was
rubbing the gland.

He used his legs to spread my legs wider, to adjust my prostate's location
so he could ram it head on. "Have I hit your magic button?" he asked.

"You have, it's too much," I managed to say.

"Billy told me that guys say that, but it isn't true," Len said. "They want
more." It was almost too much, but Billy was right. Once and a while, Len
would go deep in men and relieve the pressure on my prostate. When he
returned to the little gland, feelings were more intense.

Rocky had reached the happy ending of his massage. His client had left, and
he got on the floor, so he could take my load. With Len skillfully working
my prostate and Rocky enthusiastically sucking my cock, I gave up the fight
to keep my sperm in my balls. As I flooded Rocky's mouth, my twitching ass
set off Len's orgasm. For a few seconds I had the fantasy that Len's sperm
was passing through my body and was feeding Rocky. I could feel him
squirting as I squirted. I was in heaven, and both Len and Rocky had joined
me on the trip.

A month or so later I mentioned my fantasy to Rocky. He told me that wasn't
possible. My cum was much more creamy and thick than Len's cock caviar. If
there had ever been a crime at the bath and the only clues were drops of
sperm, Rocky would have been the man to identify the culprit by taste.

For me, usually when the cum spurting part of sex arrived, I was too
preoccupied with the sex to think about taste. Rocky specialized in the
stealth orgasm. He took his time and savored the cock drool and sperm.

I seemed to connect with Len more regularly. Billy later told me that Len
had enjoyed himself greatly. Billy said that he had told Len to find a
man's hot spots and then work them. Len's cock would drool precum as soon
as he was excited. When he fucked, he lubricated his partner's ass.

New people came to the baths. All were friends of men who were
regulars. Some men came once and never again. Other came until the met
Mr. Right. Once they found him, they never returned. I guessed that 60% to
70% became regulars. Most of our regulars were friendly and tended to make
new men feel at home. They were sexually generous. This was a combination
of being nice guys and modestly sex crazed.

There were big, small, handsome and close to being ugly men in the
group. Most tended to be out going, but there were shy men too. Rocky
called them the watchers. They were afraid to make the first move for fear
of being rejected. If you were good looking, other men would move on you,
so all was well. If you were just an average looking guy, it could be a
long wait.

Biff, an oversized, bear-like carpenter had a warm spot for the
watchers. "Everyone deserves some fun," he said. He also told me that those
guys had a lot of pent up needs and that made for some wild times. Biff
didn't have a shy bone in his body. He wasn't exactly handsome, but if you
like your men manly, Biff was the guy for you.

Stevenson Smith, was five feet-four inches tall and weighed 125 pounds. He
was a church organist for an old and wealthy Episcopal Church. He also
handled wedding planning for the church. If you had a big wedding and
wanted everything to be exactly right, you went to
Stevenson. Mothers-of-the -Bride love him. The fathers barely tolerated
him. He was prissy, borderline effeminate, a superb organist and even the
fathers had to admit, the weddings were wonderful.

He was gay, but sex scared him half to death.  He solved that problem by
abstinence. Wilton had found him and brought him to the baths. The organist
watched from a corner.  I thought he would visit once and never return.  He
came back.

Biff tended to adopt stray dogs, and he felt sorry for Stevenson. A week
later, he showered next to Stevenson and took aggressive action. As soon as
Stevenson began to firm up, Biff dropped to his knees, swallowed
Stevenson's cock and sucked him to an orgasm. He was ripe and shot off in a
minute or so. Biff took the load and continued to suck until Stevenson
stopped oozing post orgasmic drool.

"Damn, that was one hell of a load," Biff said. "I wish I could bottle it!
I assume you've been saving up for a while?"

Stevenson nodded. "You liked it? he murmured.

"It's the food of the gods," Biff replied. "You're a small guy, but your
man parts are sure working right."

"What do I need to do?" Stevenson asked.

"You don't need to do anything," Biff said. "I can tell you what I would
like to do. I would like for us to drain our balls, trade man seed and
eventually fuck ourselves silly. I was thinking that might be a bit much
for a first date!"

Stevenson smiled. I thought that was a good sign. They talked a little
longer and Biff had to get off to work.

"Was he serious about that?" Stevenson asked.

"I don't know, but he likes sex a lot. Don't worry. Biff is a nice guy. He
never forces anyone to do anything," I said. "Usually, he has guys begging
him to fuck them."