Date: Sat, 5 May 2012 18:44:15 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: David's Gratitude

David's Gratitude
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

I had known David Davidson for years. He had been a fixture of the
Washington High School for years by the time I met him. He went to work
there after college and had stayed. David married Dorothy, another
teacher. He was the Honors class English teacher; she taught the utility
math and home economics to the non-college bound students.

Dorothy was an unpleasant and rude woman who made herself indispensible by
taking on tasks no one else wanted. She was also demanding and
aggressive. Everyone catered to Dorothy. If they didn't they would have to
deal with her bad temper and her tendency to spread nasty rumors around
town.  David was a shy and quiet man who had an ability to bring out the
best in his students. No one noticed him much.

They didn't have any children. Some thought that was a partial explanation
of Dorothy's bad temper. Others thought it was a blessing. No one would
want Dorothy Davidson as a mother. Dorothy let it be known David had a
sperm count problem. While she suffered, she never suffered in silence.

While everyone liked David, everyone focused attention on Dorothy. She
demanded attention and she got it. She was grading of final exams just
before the summer break when David found her dead as a doornail in her
classroom. It was a heart attack. There was an unpleasant two days before
the coroner said it was an entirely natural, massive heart attack.

There was a perfunctory tribute to her at Graduation. Most of her students
seemed shocked to find she had a heart. David was retiring and he received
a standing ovation. There was to be a retirement party, but that had to be
cancelled. They buried Dorothy two days later. David was lost.

If the death had occurred during the school year the other teachers would
had rallied around him. In June, most had plans for the summer and many
left town. David was alone. That didn't seem to bother him. He was use to
being ignored.

I am Willy Butler, and I am the Building and Grounds Superintendant of the
Washington High School.  Dorothy's death lifted a great load from my
back. She was like a dark cloud in an otherwise clear sky. At any moment,
she could descend on me with a problem and ruin the day. I don't mind real
problems, but Dorothy had "no one is paying enough attention to me"
problems.

By contrast, David had few problems and he was pleased and happy when I
fixed them. He was always reasonable and accommodating. David was helpful
to me too. My son, Junior, was a whiz at Math, but poor in English.
Somehow, David got him into his classes and worked with him. Somehow it
worked and Junior went to a good University on a scholarship. David also
suggested I call Junior, Will. He said it would help Junior later on. David
was right about that.

My wife took off with another man when Junior was 12. David was a
civilizing influence. He had a knack for teaching smart kids from limited
backgrounds how to act in polite society. David wasn't snotty or snobbish;
he was helpful.

While I knew him from school, my house backed up to his house, so we were
over the fence neighbors. Dorothy didn't like yard work or gardening; he
loved it. He spent a lot of time in the garden, as did I, so we chatted
regularly and traded vegetables in the summer. He had a shack in the back
year he called the Dog House. It was where he escaped to when Dorothy was
in a bad mood. David was not handy around the house and asked me who to
call when there was something needing attention at his house.

It was three weeks after Dorothy died when I saw smoke coming from a roof
vent of his house. I called him and the fire department. He was away at the
Safeway and when he got home, the house was fully involved in flames. The
fire was spectacularly intense. The fire department was on the scene
quickly but there was little they could do except to stop the flames from
spreading to the neighboring houses.  The house was a total loss.

The firemen were puzzled at the intensity, but David explained. Dorothy was
a hoarder, and her special interests were paper and plastics. She was
obsessed with recycling plastics.  Actually, she didn't do it; she just
saved every bit of plastic that came into the house. She had filled most of
the rooms and the basement from floor to ceiling in trash. The firefighters
eventually decided a mouse or rat must have eaten the insulation off a wire
and caused a short. Once the fire started, there was no way to stop it.

David had barely begun to deal with Dorothy's death when he found himself
homeless. David wanted to sleep in the Dog House, but the electric and
water lines to the house were cut, and that wasn't a real option. I had him
stay with me. My son had a great job and lived in silicon Valley three
thousand miles away and my wife was gone.  My Ex had taken most of our
furniture, so I had nothing but room. My house was more of a crash pad than
a residence. I had room for him.

David had only the clothes on his back. I am about four sizes bigger than
he was. I always thought of him as a small man.  We were the same height,
but he was half my weight. He was dapper and well dressed.  While he was
bald, every remaining hair on his head was in place. He sported a
well-groomed mustache, and always wore a perfectly pressed suit, a white
shirt and tie. He was a bit more informal in the back yard, but he seemed
to be able to garden without getting too dirty.

At school the kid's named me Silverback, after the gorillas, but Gorillas
are a bit neater looking and more concerned about personal grooming. I
always started the day with clean clothes, but by the time I left work I
was a mess.

We finally left the remains of his house and went through the gate of the
fence into my garden. We went from the total ruin of his house into my lush
garden.  David relaxed when he saw it. Everything was normal in my
yard. Dirt, soot and ash covered David and me. Years earlier, I had rigged
up a shower on the back porch.  My son called it the pre-wash shower since
when I got so dirty I needed a double dip. My garden was fenced to keep the
deer out and the wooded lots on each side couldn't be undeveloped. My yard
was private. The houses in the neighborhood were all ranchers so no one
could look in.

I told David to get in the shower and clean up. I went inside to find some
clean clothes for him.  Nothing I had was his size, but I thought my son
had some clothes he had outgrown that he could wear. After looking through
Junior's closet, I found a few things David might fit him. I stripped at
the kitchen door and put my clothes in the washing machine.

I took my son's clothes to the porch.  David peaked out of the shower. "Can
anyone see us here?" he asked. "You're naked!"

"No one can see anything," I replied.  I handed him a big beach towel. He
looked relieved and emerged from the shower wrapped in it. "I have some
clothes that might fit you."

"I feel like a human being again," he said. I went in the shower and
cleaned up.  When I emerged, David was on a recliner covered in the towel
and asleep. I figured that was good for him. A half hour later, he woke up
and entered my house.

David liked my house. After years of living in a trash dump, the open
spaces and nearly empty rooms of my house were a relief to him. I cooked
him a steak and potatoes dinner with a green salad. He loved it. While
Dorothy was the Home Economics teacher, she hated to cook. Most of the food
was take-out or leftover food from the cooking classes. It typically was
five or six hours old and microwaved.

I was use to having a pretty informal dress code around the house. I'm not
much into air-conditioning, and I keep cool by using fans and not wearing
many clothes. After my son left not many clothes meant no clothes some of
the time. David was still in the towel. I think he had a problem with my
son's teenaged style clothes.

I was wearing only old boxer shorts. The button at the front was long gone.
My cock peeked out a few times, but David didn't seem to mind a little hide
and seek.  We washed the dinner down with some beer and David relaxed. I
didn't know if he drank, but he was okay with it.

As he relaxed, the towel slipped and I saw David's body for the first
time. I was shocked. He wasn't what I expected.  Actually, I wasn't sure he
had a body. David was always so totally dressed and groomed, I thought of
him as a manikin for clothes. He was perfectly groomed above the collar
line. From the neck down he was hairy, not missing link hairy like me, but
really hairy.

He cock was a monster. It was thick, uncut and seven inches soft.  I did a
double take. "Damn you have a nice one," I exclaimed.

He looked surprised. "Dorothy said it was too big and gross," he said.

"Let me tell you David, as a general rule there is no such thing as a cock
that is too big!" I said, laughing.

"She said it hurt," he added.

"My ex said mine was too thick," I said. "One of her girlfriends told me
after she left that thick wasn't a problem for her if the man screwing her
was making $300,000.00 a year. My replacement was a real estate broker."

"Dorothy wasn't much interested in sex anyway," David said. "I think she
wanted to be married and have a home, but she didn't really want a
husband."

"That must have been rough on you," I said, "Did you ever play around on
the side?

 "I could never do anything like that," he replied. "I got use to her.  I
was married and a teacher. It would have been a bad example." He looked at
me for a moment. "Did you play around after your wife left?"

"A hairy old coot with a teen aged son isn't much of a catch," I said. "I
have some women friends, but that is it. I think a few of the women
teachers might have been interested, but I'm a glorified janitor. I think
getting involved with me might ruin their careers."

"No one ever seemed interested in me," David said.

"If they had seen you naked, that might have changed!" I replied. We talked
for a while and then went to bed. David took Junior's room. I got up the
next morning and got ready to make breakfast. It was going to be a hot
summer day and I was naked. I planned to put something on before David woke
up, but I forgot.

He peeked at me from around the corner then came into the kitchen naked. He
wasn't erect, but he wasn't exactly soft either.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked.

"Actually I slept better than I have in months." he replied. He gazed at my
cock. "You have a nice one too."

"We all get the cards we are dealt," I said. "You have something you might
see in a jar at an anatomical museum!" I was being direct, but I figured no
man objects to having his cock praised. My cock responded to the
stimulation. "I'm afraid it's been all boys here for a long time.  The
dress code is informal."

"I noticed," David said. "It is a change from what I'm use to, but it's a
welcome change." We had a good breakfast and he made some calls to his
insurance man and then went off to buy some clothes. He found something in
Junior's closet that was acceptable temporarily.

I worked in the garden in the morning and he met with the Fire Department,
building inspectors and the Insurance men. Around three there was a big
thunderstorm followed by six hours of rain. It put out whatever was still
burning in the ruins of David's house and cooled off the afternoon.

We had a few beers on the back porch of my house as it rained. I cooked
dinner again, and we had a few more beers. David became cheerful. "The fire
was a disaster in one way, but it was a weight hanging over me. I couldn't
face cleaning it up alone, and I hated it," he said.  "Dorothy's hoarding
was sick and she was getting worse.  I can't believe how easy it was to
just go along with her. In some ways, I think her only real pleasure in
life was in the plastic hoard and ordering me around.  I am finally free."

"David, you need to get out more!" I said. "You can date now!" He laughed.

"I think I need to start all over again," he replied. "Dating would be a
problem," he added and he lowered his voice. "I was never comfortable
dating. I'm not good at sex.  It's never been that good for me."

"You must be doing it wrong!" I said.

"Do you think so? Dorothy hated it," he said. "I know everyone does it, but
it didn't seem to work for us. Of course, Dorothy wouldn't consider doing
most of the things you hear or read about."

"I'm not too sure I would use Dorothy as a guide to the world of sex," I
said. "She was a strange woman." It was getting late and we had been
through more beers than we should. "Sex has been rare for me, but I like it
when I get it. I guess I've tried most things. Most things were good. To be
truthful, most things were great."

"Has anyone sucked your cock? I think I would like for someone to suck my
cock," he said in a whisper. "I've never done that."

"A few times," I said. "It was good, although my wife wasn't good at
it. With a cock as big as yours is, you would need a pro," I said.

"A whore?" he asked in horror.

"No, just someone who is into cock big time," I replied.  We talked a
little longer and went to bed. A little later, I ran into him naked as he
was leaving the shower. Somehow, my hand touched his cock. He jumped a
little but didn't leave.

"You have such a nice cock; it's a shame not to use it more, I said." David
didn't say anything but I felt his cock begin to firm up. He just stood
there, so I dropped to my knees and licked his cock. I think he had enough
to drink not to be shocked.

I wasn't exactly a virgin when it comes to man sex, but I wasn't
experienced. In my twenties, I worked in a lumber camp in Canada. It was
all-male of course. While the guys all talked about women, once the lights
were out, they found other ways to get their rocks off. My best friend
there was Rusty. He was about my age and inexperienced sexually too. The
foreman was an older guy, Gussy.  He was a character. He liked anything
that could be interpreted as sex. He liked men, women, animals and we joked
me was even willing to try an alluring fruit.

It was all a joke when the sun was up, but after lights went out, Gussy
gave lessons. He was a big, impressive, masculine man and a leader of
men. With him it wasn't gay sex, it was just getting off with your buddies.
He was into pleasure, plain and simple. We all knew an orgasm was as good
as it could get, but Gussy showed us how the make it last.

"We all know where we are going," he would say. "Let's take our time and
make it last." He also put great store in encouraging repeat customers. "A
good fuck is one thing, a good fuck buddy is another," was his motto. He
didn't mind a quick poke, but a long, drawn out buff and shine was
preferable. Gussy loved the bottom and Rusty and I spent some good nights
making sure his sphincter was supple, and marinating his prostate in stud
cream. Gussy was a true Canadian, and my beer-can-shaped cock was an added
attraction for him.

When I came back to the States, I met my wife and she was a pistol. She
liked sex and was good at it. My logging days became a distant but warm
memory. It all came back to be in a rush when my lips touched his knob.

I had guessed David would like being sucked. He was fully erect in
seconds. His organ was magnificent hard. I loved it. David was an oozer,
and soon he was pumping pre cum from his balls.  The goo turned me on.

I couldn't get David's entire organ in my mouth, but I could get the
head. I licked his balls, the underside of the shaft and then swallowed the
head. David was in heaven. He suddenly tried to pull away.  I held him
tight. A few seconds later, hot man seed filled my mouth.  I began to doubt
Dorothy's stories about low sperm count. I had to swallow twice.

The combination of the massive orgasm and shooting off in my mouth left
David dizzy. He was worried he had offended my by shooting off in my
mouth. If he had asked, I would have told him no. Neither he, nor I knew he
was going to pop so quickly.

I had tasted my own sperm, had a quick taste of Gussy's and a spurt or two
of Rusty's cream, but I had never really taken a load. My mouth was full of
David's sperm and unexpectedly I loved it. I swallowed once and then he
filled my mouth again. When I stood up, he kissed me. He didn't expect to
find my mouth still filled with his cream, but he liked that even more.

We went to my bedroom and went to bed. We didn't sleep much. I had a
suspicion he had to catch up on thirty or forty years of living in a sexual
desert. He shot off five, or six times. These were full scale,
thank-you-Jesus type orgasms.  David must have had a hollow leg to store
the buckets of cum.

Unexpectedly, I loved it much more than I expected.  In the years since my
wife left, I had sort of forgotten how good sex could be. I thought that
part of my life was done and gone. David was so appreciative. While his
sexual experiences set him to the moon and back, I was right there with
him.

Sex with my wife always had strings attached. Usually she wanted something
or had to tell me something I didn't want to hear. There was always the
threat that she might get pregnant again. Sex with David was just plain
fun. He didn't want anything; he hadn't done anything bad, and pregnancy
was not a option. When we got up the next morning all was well. We were
happy.

I knew David was a good Baptist, so I expected a morning of guilt and
repentance. That didn't happen. Later David told me he had tried to use the
church as a replacement for what he had hoped to find in marriage. He tried
to talk with the minister about his wife, but that was useless. He either
could stay married; have a miserable life and then go to heaven, or he
could get a divorce, have a good life and then go to hell. David couldn't
figure out which was worse. His church didn't have any answers.

I don't think David had any idea that pleasure could play a role in his
life. I had come close to forgetting that myself. I liked my job, my
friends and my family, but that's not the same as a mind-blowing
orgasm. David discovered that meditating on a bible verse wasn't the same
thing either.

The next day the ashes had cooled and we went looking for anything
salvageable. We found a hunk of melted silver and a second hunk of
gold. Dorothy liked silver and gold jewelry. It was now just a fused blob,
but it had some value. By noon, we knew there was nothing left. The
collapse of the roof and walls destroyed anything that hadn't burned.

"This may sound strange, but it a relief to have it gone," Davis said as he
looked over the ruins. "It was Dorothy's house and her stuff. I would have
felt guilty about throwing it out. I can start with a clean slate." We went
back to my house, showered and went to an expensive restaurant for lunch.

When we got home, David was uneasy. I asked him what was wrong.

"Last night was great," he said. "Do we need to wait for it to get dark to
do it again?"

I gave him a resounding, "Hell no!"  A few seconds later, we were naked and
going at it like dogs in heat. It was another good night.  When I have
really good sex I worry it might just be a fluke.  Sex with my wife could
be wonderful or barely acceptable depending on what she was after. Her
mother was a difficult woman.  She let it slip once that she thought of sex
as a hook to get the man she wanted. Once she reeled him in, sex was no
longer a priority. My wife thought the same way, but she later decided she
should have gone deep-sea fishing, rather than wasting her time in the
local lake. David was grateful for anything he could get.

David's cock was grateful too. While it was hard for him to talk about sex,
his cock dripped, drooled, twitched, oozed and spurted in response to my
tongue. He moaned some too. Eventually, David relaxed and let me work my
magic.

I had to work on Monday. David made calls and worked with the insurance
company.  It was an open and shut case, but nothing is simple with
insurance. When I got home, he told me a man called for me. The man wasn't
sure I was the right Willy Butler, but David had the man's number if I was
the person he wanted.

"What was the man's name?" I asked.

"Rusty Palmer. He said you worked together in a lumber camp years ago,"
Davis said.

"Well I am the right Willy Butler."