Date: Thu, 18 Nov 2004 16:10:23 -0800 (PST) From: Bob Archman Subject: Old St. nick 4 Old Saint Nick Part 4 By Bald Hairy Man e-mail bldhrymn@aol.com or bldhrymn@yahoo.com This is an adult story intended for adults. It is a fantasy, so I again remind you that have done away with the requirements of safe sex, and have included no gestures toward common sense either. These are all new stories. Please e-mail me if you have any suggestions or comments. Chuck didn't rush anything, but he was directed. He wanted to get in my ass and wasn't going to be side tracked. Oddly, I simply accepted his lead. I knew next to nothing about man to man sex and absolutely nothing about sex between men and women. I had been afraid of it when I was in school. I was sure it would have sent me straight to hell if I even knew anything about it. I was flattered Chuck wanted to have me and was willing to give me a lesson. Chuck was handsome and masculine. He was elegant, slim and muscular almost like an Art Deco statue of a ballet dancer, but the coat of unruly red hair counteracted any sense of effeminacy. His erect genitals fascinated me. His cock was long and thin like his body. It was rock hard and elegantly curved. His balls reminded me of a goat I had once seen. They were big and low hanging. We went to the bedroom and I got on the bed. Bruno got out a tube of lubricant. "Lie back," he said. "I'll do the honors." I lay back. "Spread your legs so I can get at your hole." The lubricant was cool and felt good. He touched my hole and swirled it around the few times. "You'll love Chuck's cock," Bruno said. "We've been playing together for years and never had a bad experience." "He's your partner?" I asked, a bit alarmed. Bruno guessed what I was worried about. "Don't worry, Chuck and I are friends and playmates," he said. "You're not trespassing. We're friends and enjoy each other, that's it." "It seems awfully generous and understanding of you," I commented. "Not at all, it's just the way it is," Bruno said. One finger was pressing at my ass and slipped in. I gasped. He pushed it in further. "It feels good, doesn't it?" I nodded. It felt okay. It didn't hurt, but it didn't do much either. Bruno pulled his finger out, added more lube and worked it in again. It wasn't bad, but I was wondering what the excitement about fucking was. Bruno looked at me, smiled and jammed his finger deep. I moaned as a tidal wave of sensation swept over me. He had touched something I didn't know existed and the feelings were beyond anything I had ever felt before. I couldn't talk or think. I could only feel. "I think Abbot John is going to like this a lot, Bruno," Chuck said. "I think you're right," Bruno replied. "Are you ready? John is." "I almost shot my load when you hit his prostate," Chuck said. "I'm going to have to take it slow to keep from popping." Bruno pulled his finger from my ass. A second later, Chuck was in his place and his cock was at my hole. He leaned over me, "I got a big head, once it's in, it will be easy going," he whispered. He looked me eye to eye. "It's not too late if you've changed your mind. Just say the word." I didn't say anything. He pushed. My ass resisted. Bruno added some lubricant to Chuck's cock head. He pushed again. My hole was being stretched, but didn't give way. I felt a twinge on the third try. His cock popped through the sphincter. The cock head was in. I was a little uncomfortable, but not bad. I relaxed. Chuck sensed this and pushed deeper. As he did, his cock touched the spot Bruno had touched earlier. I was gasping for breath. "It's good, isn't it?" Chuck asked. I couldn't answer, but I was able to nod. "I'll take it easy for a little while until you get use to it," Chuck said as he slowly pulled his cock in and out of my ass. I didn't know how he would know I was use to it, but I didn't need to worry. I had thought it might be an intense early feeling which would diminish as he continued. It was the exact opposite. As he thrust, I got more and more relaxed and it went deeper and felt better. At first I was a passive receptor of his cock. As I got more accustomed to it, my body began to respond to his thrusts. It wasn't me. I didn't know enough to respond. My body did know. Somehow it knew where Chuck's cock had missed a spot and what it would take to get it a little bit deeper in my ass. He was going faster and thrusting harder. "I'm shooting!" Chuck exclaimed. I could feel his body twitch as he ejaculated. He was perfectly still for a minute or so, then he pulled out. I was still disoriented, but vaguely unsatisfied. I wanted to shoot too. Bruno took Chuck's place. "I hope you're ready for this," he said. He looked at me, the way Chuck did just before he entered my ass. I smiled. His cock was already lubricated and he pressed it in. "I'm a lot thicker than Chuck, but I think he's opened you up enough." I wasn't expert at this, but it seemed to me I was open enough. It was a tight fit, but fit it did. It was an entirely different feeling from Chuck. I guess I had thought all cocks were alike. Bruno's thick meat totally filled my ass. With Chuck there had been room to move, his cock had hot different spots on every thrust. There was no room to maneuver with Bruno's meat. The pressure on the good spot was continuous and unrelenting. After five or ten minutes I shot off. I had never had such an intensive orgasm in my life. It was as if all my internal organs were trying to eject every drop of sperm in my balls. As I shot off, Bruno pulled out and sprayed his load across my body. I was coated in man seed. Chuck laughed. "I told you good sex was messy!" he said. We broke apart, we all shared a shower and I returned to the Abbey. Much to my surprise, I slept well that night. Perhaps there was a devil nearby waiting to carry me off to Hell, but they must have been occupied elsewhere. They weren't at the Abbey that night, nor any other night for that matter. Chuck called me the next morning to ask how I was doing. "Just fine here," I said. "I slept like a log and woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed." "I was afraid I got too carried away," he said. "I think you were carried away just the right amount," I said. After pausing for a few seconds I asked, "Is it always that good? I had one worry last night, that this was a once and a lifetime occurrence." "As far as I can tell, sex ranges from between being good to great," he replied. "It may be me, but it seems sex can only be so bad. I've had one or two not very good experiences, but that it. I'd guess it's 99 and 44/100% good." "Like the soap, without the floating?" Chuck laughed. "You'd be amazed at the number of times you float. When it's really good, you feel as if you're floating on a cloud of sensation." "I'd like to try that," I said. "You're more than welcome to come over here and we can work at it until we get it right!" Chuck said. That afternoon we went to meet with the city to work out some of the zoning problems with our properties. Max was there to add heft to our delegation, but Edgar and Chuck made the main presentation. I was impressed. They had things well organized and presented our proposed work quickly but completely. There was one man trying to screw things up. It was Ralph Saterwhite, as Bruno had guessed. Fortunately Edgar and Chuck were well prepared and had anticipated Ralph's objections. I caught a look from the Senior Building official, Johnny Hargrove, that made me think he wasn't too happy with Ralph. I told them how we had been unaware of the propertied and of their poor condition. I said we hoped to have the work underway soon and wanted to have some progress visible by Christmas. "Anything the city can do to help us will be greatly appreciated. These buildings are not only a blight in their neighborhood, they are a stain on our reputations as a religious order," I said. "We are doing everything we can to rectify the problems." "Regulations are regulations," Ralph said. "These projects will generate a huge amount of work for our office and I don't see how we can review the projects before November or December." "We intend to meet every requirement in the code," Edgar said. He then listed several code sections which gave discretion in renovations to the building officials. "Well, we have a religious order as the owner, a well known and prominent architect as the designer and one of the most respected contracting firm in the city involved in this project," Johnny Hargrove said. "I think we're are safe in expediting this project. These properties are a blight, and improving them will transform some neighborhoods. I will personally review the projects. I think that will lighten the load on our office, don't you agree, Ralph?" "Will you inspect the project too?" Ralph asked in a voice that was close to taunting. "As a mater of fact, I do think I will take a more hands-on role," Johnny said. "As I recall the last job I inspected turned out well." "Is that the project which won the awards from HUD and the National Association of Cities?" Chuck asked. "As a matter of fact it was," Johnny said. Ralph turned a deep reddish purple, but didn't say anything. The meeting was over. We had done well. The project was launched. The project got quite a lot of attention and a reporter came by to see me. I gave him the details of the project and an explanation of how we got to where we were. It was hard to explain it in a way which didn't reflect badly on Abbot Frederick, but the reporter assumed some project was in the works before his death, and I didn't correct him. His photographer took a picture of me in front of one of the drawings for the renovations. The picture appeared in the Sunday edition of the paper with the headline, `Old St. Nick has a Christmas Present for the Whole City'. I had never thought of myself as looking like Santa Claus but my big white beard certainly gave that impression. I didn't think of myself as that old or jolly, but that sure wasn't the way the picture looked. The reference was to the Abbey, but by Monday I was Old St. Nick to 90% of the population. The article was good otherwise and I was pleasantly surprised when men called to volunteer to help us. Several of these men were of no use, they just wanted to be included in whatever was going on, but others were of real help. Jonathan Winters was a retired real estate agent who had just lost his wife to cancer. We had a slew of tenants who needed to be relocated during the renovation and Jonathan was a whiz at that. Julian Ramirez was a retired professor of Romance languages. We needed someone who was fluent in Spanish to serve as a translator and he was more than willing. He was single and seemed to be lonely. I later found out his longtime friend had died a year earlier and he was poorly prepared for a single life. Several younger men joined with us. Trevor Nance was a flawed socialite. He was awash in money and social connections, and just dried out after a near death experience. Apparently he had pushed the envelope on the upper limits of alcohol consumption. He had real problems with his parents, but was fundamentally a good man. Fortunately, helping a Catholic charity bothered his parents almost as much as alcoholism, so he could rebel against them and help us at the same time. This wasn't ideal from my point of view, but I figured one step at a time. I could work on reconciliation with his family at my leisure. He had gone to school with everybody who was anybody's children, and he was unashamed about using his connections. He was genuinely helpful. He was also more than competent. This pleased me, but seemed to surprise him. Jefferson Rawlings was a young black man who had a degree from the school of hard knocks. He wanted to help his community. Many of our tenants were black and this was a problem for us. Simply put, I could tell when we were being fed a line, or begin told the truth. I had no experience with black people and I might as well have been in a foreign country trying to learn exotic customs. I was lost. Jefferson wasn't lost at all. If Julian did the translating for the Spanish-speaking tenants, Jefferson did the same for the blacks. He had a sixth sense when it came to bull. He could smell it before it came and could deal with it. He also had a knack for finding out the real problems and dealing with them. Some people were genuinely needy, but would tell a lie because they were embarrassed at the real problem. A woman might say she needed medicine or help with rent when she was actually dealing with a pregnant 15-year-old granddaughter. The world can be a much messier place than I had understood. Sometimes there is good and evil, but more often we seemed to be dealing with good people trying to handle evil situations, or bad people trying to well for those they love. In some ways life was so easy under Abbot Frederick's rule. All was black and white. All decisions were clear and self-evident. He was always right and always made the correct decisions. The Abbot never considered any alternative to the course he saw as right. I wasn't so lucky. I was on the right course. This I was sure of, but the rightness of every decision wasn't always so clear. Mentioning this to Max, the architect, he was unworried. "If you demand every decision to be perfect, you'll never make any decisions," Max said. "The apartment houses are in poor condition. You can't fix them without displacing the tenants. Some are always unhappy. It's not a prefect world, you have to get the big things right and work out the details as best you can." "I wish things were easier," I said. "The more difficult things are, the better you feel about accomplishing it," Max replied. "Are you one of those men who enjoy a challenge?" I asked. "I'm afraid so," Max answered, smiling slightly. "You aren't?" "I didn't join the monastery to be challenged. I was running away, looking for a safe place." max laughed. "You picked the wrong monastery for that," Max said. "You have become an Abbot-real estate developer." He was right about my new role. It was one I never would have considered, but I was into it hook line and sinker. I talked with Richard about my conversation with Max. I also told him about my dreams regarding Abbot Frederick and his unsuccessful attempts to enter heaven. I was afrid he would think my dreams were comic or funny. "I've been having strange dreams too," Richard said. "About Abbot Frederick?" "No, not directly at least," he replied. "An old priest was teaching me the catechism, but the questions were all screwed up. He asked me if you lived a life in which you neither gave nor received pleasure, were you truly alive? I couldn't answer that. Then he asked if I neither built something, created something, made friendships and tried to make the world a better or more pleasant place, what was I doing?" "Wasting good food?" I suggested. Reichard looked at me wioth shock in his eyes. "That's exactly what he said. With no love, affection or friendship, can you say you are alive? Or saved?" "Abbot Frederick's problem." I said. "Exactly," Richard stated emphatically. We were on our way to the shower room. We had postponed the renovation of the monastery until after the renovations of our rental properties were well advanced. We got to the locker room and stripped. We were alone at first, then Sean joined us as did Julian. Julian had been spending more and more time with us and sometimes spent the night in with us. Julian was short and stocky, bald, with a mustache. He looked a bit like Elmer Fud. Naked, he was solid more than fat/ his chest was coved in thick black hair with a patch of while in the middle. He had big apricot sized balls and a matching cock head shrouded in foreskin. I guessed his cock would be massive erect. As I speculated on Julian's cock, my own cock began to respond. I wasn't hard, but I was rapidly reaching half staff. Embarrassed I looked at the other men in the shower. As I glanced at Richard, he glance at me. He smiled and turned, showing me his cock. He was in the same state I was. I looked at Sean and Julian. Sean was already hard. Julian had his back to us. He glanced at Sean and saw Sean's erection. Sean went over to the older man and whispered in his ear. Julian slowly turned and saw we were all excited to some extent. "This is awfully embarrassing," he muttered. "You've got nothing to be embarrassed about," Sean said. "We all have the same equipment, but it looks as if you got the Budweiser can version." Julian was getting hard. The skin was pulling back exposing his oversized cock head. We were all hard by now. Julian looked around. At first he looked shocked, then he looked relieved. "You all look well equipped," he said. "I'm afraid I'm like a glass of beer poured by a novice bartender, all head and no beer." Richard went over to him and stroked Julian's cock. "Damn, you're thick," Richard said, as he dropped to his knees and began licking the bloated gland. Julian closed his eyes and moaned. "I don't believe this is happening. I never thought I would ever feel this way again after Jorge died," he said. "It's beautiful." The room filled with a sense of warmth and affection. Sean and I went to Julian and caressed him. Sean fluffed up the hair on his chest. I played with his tits. Julian moaned in pleasure. It was so simple. Richard's tongue was slowly licking Julian's bloated cock head. I hadn't realized the incredible power of sexual contact. I knew sex is at the core of human existence and of all animal reproduction. I suddenly saw it at the core of bands of cavemen hunting for food, and of ships filed with men exploring the unknown. How many men had slept with their crew mates, felt their cocks respond and surrendered to a desire to share pleasure. No matter how difficult life might be, the cock was always there, available to give pleasure. I had enough experience with solitary sex to know it never approached the heights we were experiencing in this shower room. "I was afraid I might never feel this way again," Julian whispered. He began to twitch as he drained his balls into Richard' mouth. I dropped to my knees and Richard and I shared his seed.