Date: Mon, 29 Mar 2021 15:09:02 -0400 From: Bob Subject: Merry-Go-Round Club The Merry-go-Round 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 My partner of 20 years, John, died of a heart attack. It was a lightning bolt from nowhere. It was a shock, but John was a lawyer who handled estate planning, and he had taken care of everything. He was one of those rare men who took his own advice. I am William MacDonald. I was ten years younger than John. I am a successful graphic designer. John left his estate to me. He never mentioned his will and I was surprised. High powered estate lawyers make a lot more money than graphic designers. I was no longer well off; I was wealthy. I knew some of his friends, but they were mostly lawyers and they had little in common with graphic artists. I had spent much of my time with him, so I had less connection to old friends. Before I met John, I had some good friends with benefits. These relationships dwindled. John was basically monogamous. Graphic design tends to have strict deadlines. Things had to be done at a specified tight schedule. John and my job took almost all of my time. A month after John died, I was at a crowded Starbucks, and a man asked if he could share my table. He was on crutches, so of course I asked him to join me. He introduced himself as Peyton Royal. I looked him and realized I had known him years ago. I think he recognized me at the same time. We reminisced. He had been a junior account executive in an advertising agency. I had done some work for him, it was good, but he changed agencies and moved. He was back in town. He asked how I was, and I told him about John's death. He had dealt with his elderly parents and dementia. He said he was exhausted and by the time they died he was more relieved than sorry. He was still single. I told him I had many acquaintances but few friends. He had the same problem. We talked, finished our coffee, and went our own ways after exchanging telephone numbers and addresses. I thought about Peyton from time to time over the next week. He had been more sexually active than I when we were younger. He told me then he was a member of what he called a play group. He said the play was sexual and no-strings with no entanglements. He said they were nice guys. He asked if I would like to join them. I was tempted, but this was just before I met John. Peyton left town, and I became attached to John. I hadn't thought of Peyton or his play group in years. I was surprised I was thinking about it again after so many years. I have heard of gay radar, gaydar, and of the gay telegraph. There were jokes. I was surprised when Peyton called me and asked me over for dinner. He said he was having a few friends over, and he thought I would enjoy getting out. I said I would enjoy that. Peyton lived in a large apartment nearby. He told me he had sold his firm and done well. His apartment was impressive. He was still on his crutches, but he had a cook-housekeeper who had made dinner. His friends were Waldo Miller, who owned a tire sales business, and Dudley Waterson, whose dad owned the local paper. Both had used Peyton's business for their advertising. They were pleasant men. Waldo was down to earth and had a comic view of life. Dudley had seen Bertie and Wooster programs on TV and seemed to have decided to out fop Bertie. They all had a good sense of humor and the evening was enjoyable. After dinner, the conversation focused on gay life and play. Dudley had fallen in love between fifteen and twenty times. He could not remember the actual number, but he did remember some of the guys. Waldo had buddies. He had known John and used him for his estate planning. I thought Waldo owned the local tire shop. I was wrong. He owned sixty shops across the state. Dudley said that while he was relationship oriented, he had yet to have a successful experience. His only real successes had been the Merry-Go-Round Club. Waldo and Peyton were members. That annoyed Peyton and Waldo. It was a secret club. After asking me to keep it secret, Waldo told me about the club. It was a gay men's club. "A social club?" I asked. "Not really," Peyton explained. "It a sex club, conversation optional. Some might describe the meetings as orgies. Anything goes as long as it's pleasurable. Most of the men have had relationship problems." "The objective is to have sex without the complications of interpersonal interactions," Peyton continued. "The odd thing is, that we all get along well and have become friends. Looking for true love seems to screw things up. Looking for mutual orgasms is a more achievable goal." "I seem to get along with a guy when I've shared orgasms with him," Waldo said. The conversation continued for a while. It was getting late, and we went home. I slept well. When I woke, I realized that mindless sex had an appeal. I knew that looking for a permanent relationship seemed to jinx the possibility of the relationship. Discovering a relationship by accident or chance often worked out better. Peyton called me later in the morning and apologized if the conversation offended me. "Singing the praises of meaningless sex is not everyone's ideal a good life," he said. I told his I wasn't offended at all. The men seemed to be nice guys were just being direct and frank. I mentioned that the Club was nothing like anything I had been involved with. Peyton said it was different but a little excitement every month or so was stimulating. I mentioned that I seemed to be in a rut. I might try something new. Payton told me the group was not for amateurs. It was for experienced and sexually driven men. "It's not for men who dabble in sex," he explained. He had another call, so we ended the conversation. Oddly as Peyton suggested the Club was not right for me, it became more attractive to me. I hadn't had sex with anyone other than John in years. A few days later Waldo knocked on my door. He had talked with Peyton and he understood all was well, but he wanted to apologize in person. I asked him in and offered him a beer. During our conversation I mentioned that I needed to develop a new social life. "Does that include a new sexual life?" Waldo asked. "I'm not sure that I had figured things out that far," I said. "I guess I should work on it. Would the club help me with that?" Waldo laughed and said, "Well, it would provide a lot of sex, but conversation is optional. The men are more sex oriented." "Is it against the rules?" I asked. "There is a rule against play acting. There are no pretend cops and robbers' games. We are there for sex, not drama," Waldo explained. "We figure there is enough drama when a cock pops past your sphincter, or you have to swallow before you choke when a guy shoots in your mouth." I laughed. "That seems sensible. There are no grand love scenes?" "Actually, I get emotional while I'm ejaculating in a guy's ass or mouth," Waldo said. "It lasts until my cock stops drooling cum. It's intimate in some ways. No one is more naked and exposed when you are having sex with other guys watching. Once you get used to it, it's liberating. You are free to be your sexual self." It had been a long time since I had been with another man. Twenty minutes later, Waldo and I spent an hour in the bedroom. Waldo was skilled and imaginative. I hadn't guessed that his cock was designed to drive me crazy. He found all the places John had reached and found a few dozen places deeper up my ass. Two weeks later I was in a car with Waldo and Dudley on the way to the Spring meeting of the Merry-go-Round Club at a country house. Dudley explained that every cock and asshole was available with no exception unless you had a note from a doctor. Everything was voluntary, but you were expected to be accommodating. The party would last as long as erections lasted. I was excited, bur nervous and unsure of myself. The house was on a large farm, and not visible from the road. The house surprised me. I expected a farmhouse, and it was a modern building. The original farm had burned ten years earlier. There were several cars parked to the side. There were seven men in the house, they each had name tag on chain around the neck. We went to the undressing room and took a chain. I was Bluto. The names were of cartoon characters. Apparently, the club required a quorum, and the three of us made up the ten men necessary. Waldo rang a bell. "It's time to get the festivities underway. I want to introduce Bluto who is joining us for the first time. Make him feel welcome. He recently lost his partner, so be nice. When I said make him feel welcome, don't make him feel too welcome, by that I mean you Micky. Remember we're supposed to share!" That caused laughter. Apparently, Micky tended to monopolize new members. The men broke into couples. Wiley C. came over to me. He was a tall, thin, hairy, otter. I guessed he was thirty or so. He said, "Welcome," as he dropped to his knees and began to suck my cock. I was not the first cock he had ever sucked. A little later we were on the floor in the sixty-nine position. Wiley's cock was long, thin, and curved. It fit my throat perfectly. John had not liked that position because it distracted him. I liked it and from the taste of Wiley's precum, he liked it too. We played for a while and then Wiley went off to see a pal. A man labeled Micky M introduced himself to me. He was a short, stocky man with a compact cock and balls peeking out of his otherwise hairy torso. "I'm the Micky Waldo mentioned," he said. "You don't look scary to me," I said. "I don't see why men make fun of my stamina," he replied. "I admit I'm not movie star material." I fondled his cock. "Don't worry, it grows," he said. "It's in good working condition too. It does need a buff and a shine." I took the hint and sucked his uncut tool. When he was erect, I stood up and Micky swallowed my cock in a swift movement. Micky was all man without any frills. Maybe a Cro-Magnon would have thought he was handsome. He had double doses of all the major male features except for the cock. It turned out he had a standard six-inch member with almost double the width. He was affable, pleasant, and grossly over sexed. I was surprised that Micky turned me on. His precum was an aphrodisiac. It seemed to go directly to whatever turned me on. When we took a breather, he asked if I knew he wanted to fuck me. I told him that was fine. "I have a suspicion it will be hard to fuck you and not shoot off in you. Would it disgust you to know my little sperms will be frolicking deep in your hole?" I told him I would take the risk. I thought he would ram me and pound me until he popped. Micky had a delicate approach to getting his cock into my ass. He then massaged my prostate with his cock until I was almost crazy and then unloaded and gave my prostate a sperm bath. I had never felt anything like it. When he pulled out, a man called Goofy rolled me over, lifted my legs and rimmed my ass to get Micky's cum. Goofy moved on, but Waldo came over to me. "Goofy likes eating used sperm that has been kept warm in a guy's ass," Waldo said. "Are you okay with that?" I said yes. "Can I make a deposit?" Waldo asked. I didn't have time to answer before my legs were on Waldo's shoulders, and his cock head was at my sphincter. He made a quick thrust, and his monster cock was in me. While he had fucked me before, I now realized it was the fantasy cock of my dreams. After a few thrusts, I was just an appendage to his cock. I was a part of him, and I loved it. My reaction was not what he expected, but he was pleased. There was no need to rush or hurry. Waldo had complete access to my body. He and I knew it. When he shot off, I was thrilled to feel him flooding my ass with his man seed. When he pulled out, I felt deflated. Apparently, my ass was gaping open. When it closed, Goofy's tongue was in me. The mixture of Micky and Waldo's sperm was too much for Goofy to resists. A man I hadn't met yet fed me his cock as Goofy ate the sperm feast in my ass. The cock belonged to Yosemite Sam. The was an older guy with a nice cock and productive balls. His cock was big enough and was responsive. It twitched and drooled. Years earlier John told me that he loved a cock drooling precum. Like an orgasm, you couldn't fake it. He said most men tend to be reserved and hold back their emotions. When precum appears, a man has given up that reserve and is ready to fully engage. That description fit Yosemite perfectly. "I love a man who can multitask," Yosemite said. I felt a wave of nostalgia come over me. Multitasking was one of John's favorite words too. "I've licked up everything I can. This boy is a wonder," Goofy said. "I think he's ready for another poke. Do you want to trade places?" Soon Goofy's cock was in my mouth as Yosemite's cock was probing my ass. Goofy leaned over and sucked my cock as Yosemite pushed deeper into me. Our trio became a quartette when someone pushed his cock into Goofy's ass. I had never watched men fucking close-up before. This was sex as total involvement as Cinerama and in Technicolor. We lasted for five to ten minutes before nature took control and we had a general exchange of sperm. The fourth man was Dudley. The party soon wound down and broke up. Waldo said that after the second orgasm, the ejaculations lacked sincerity. I slept very well that night. Waldo called the next morning and asked how I was doing. I told him I was fine, and I had enjoyed the get together. "Several men asked if you would be coming to future meetings," Waldo said. I told him I would love it. He said the men had enjoyed me and wanted me to come back. I told him I enjoyed it and I would like to attend another get together. A few days later I ran into Goofy. He asked if I would like a cup of coffee. I said that would be great, but I lived nearby, and I could brew up a pot. He came home with me. Goofy had been Wally the Weatherman on the TV years earlier and now was a part-time producer for the station. He told me I was the first new man at the Merry Go Round Club in a few years and I added some sparkle to the event. I told him I enjoyed it and asked if their meeting were always, so action filled. "Well, they aren't exactly sedate, but you were exceptionally receptive and open to the possibilities," Wally said. "Our last few new members took a few meetings to get up to speed." "Does open to the possibilities refer to my ass?" I asked. Wally laughed. "It refers to your ass and your mouth. You can take cum in your ass and mouth, and you shoot a good load. Several men admired your willingness to let them eat the cum drool from your ass," he said. "Did they think I was too slutty?" I asked. Wally laughed again. "You were the perfect slut," he said. "The club is a place for sluts to let it all hang out safely. You are a dream come true for needy erect men! They all want your cock, your sperm, and your ass." Ten minutes later we were in my bedroom and Wally was probing my ass. "Did I mention that I shoot huge loads?" he asked. "Guys complain it makes a mess. I was hoping that wouldn't bother you?" "You guessed right," I said. "I shoot a single ejaculation, then a little later I let loose the main attraction," Wally explained. "Some guys can feel it when I shoot. They like that a lot. I shoot in the mouth too. I don't bottom much, but I want you in me." Wally's cock performed as he described. I shot off hands free. It was almost perfectly coordinated orgasms. Afterward, Wally told me he provided sexual release in emergencies. "What is an emergency sexual need?" I asked while laughing. "Once and a while a guy has an itch in a hard-to-reach place," he said. "I can scratch it and give it a bath of soothing cream." "You are a humanitarian! Do men need this service often?" I asked. "Some do. My nickname is Ever Ready," Wally explained. "Do you provide other essential services?" I asked. His cell phone rang. He had to get to the television station to deal with an emergency. He dressed and left. I thought Wally was trying to tell me something, but he never got to the point. Wally called me two days later. He complained that while he was supposed to be retired, every time they had an emergency, they called him back. He had been there for almost 40 years and he knew where all the bodies were buried. He told me he had some pals who were open minded and if I wanted to meet them, they and I would have a good time. He told me they needed more action than the Club's monthly meetings. They got together to drain the pipes and let off some steam. I wasn't interested, but I told them I would like to meet his pals. "We were getting together my house on Friday afternoon," Wally said. "Can you make it?" I said yes. This was the second time I said yes when I meant to say "no". I am not a fool. That was not an accident. I think unconsciously I wanted sex. I didn't want to live as if John were still alive. I wanted to move on and change my life. New opportunities were popping up and I wanted to explore them. I drove to Wally's house in town 30 miles away. I was the second man to come. Wally was with a man named Reggie. Reggie was about 60 years old and in good shape. I noticed he referred to his guest as Father Reggie once and a while. Two other men arrived Martin and Bert. I recognized Martin at the morning anchor of the TV station. Bert was the backup weatherman. A few minutes later a man they called Sarge arrived. "I want to introduce you to William. I met him at the last Club meeting," Wally said. "Well, the gangs all her, lets go to the rec room," Wally announced. The rec room was a former garage that had been extensively renovated. It had no windows but was plush and had a full bath. It had double doors that were open, showing a large, walk in shower. I was impressed, but when I looked around, the men were almost naked. I was the last one to strip. Sarge came over to me. Sarge with a big pale white man covered in white hair. Huge balls framed his uncut white snake. I felt him out. "I don't know that Wally told you, but we are all versatile, but I have a tendency to top, is that a problem," he asked. "I doubt that," I said. "It's never been a problem before." "The carpet is nice here," he added. "We usually swallow loads." I smiled. "That seems sensible. I dropped to my knees and started sucking the white snake. If they gave Olympic medals to the fastest man to go from completely soft to a full erection, Sarge would have a gold medal. Sarge was entirely white, but his knob was a beautiful shade of pink. It was so delicate. A little later Sarge was on his back and I was sitting on his cock. It was a little bigger than was comfortable; my ass thought it was nice to be stretched a bit wider. Taking Sarge's cock was apparently an initiation ritual. I passed with flying colors. The men were more than friendly. There wasn't much conversation, but warm mouths and asses were welcoming. My own ass seemed to welcome visitors and make friends. Sex was friendly, energetic, and enjoyable. It was intense during orgasms and as long as we were exchanging sperm, but the feeling of pleasure remained after cocks softened as they withdrew from my mouth or ass. I squeezed my ass as they pulled out and milked a final ejaculation from the softening cock. The party came to an end. Wally, Father Reggie and Sarge were the last ones who remained. "Did you feel used?" Father Regie asked me. "I felt like we were sharing each other," I replied. "I can't suck myself or fuck myself. You helped me. I thought I was helping you." "That is a good way to look at it," Reggie said. "It becomes personal during the orgasm." I told him I noticed that too. He leaned close to me. "I have some close friends who would enjoy you. They are shy and reserved. I think they would enjoy giving and receiving from you," he said. I told him that sounded interesting. He knew what that meant.