Date: Tue, 29 Dec 2015 21:27:58 -0500
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: The Queens Theater 3

The Queen's Theater 3

By Bald Hairy Man

This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you do not like that, DO NOT
read it! You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, and is
not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual.  No effort to portray
safe sex practices has been made.  If you have any comments, send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com

If you like these stories, please consider donating to Nifty!

Rod arrived at the theater late on Friday afternoon.  He was supposed to be
there the next morning; Burton and Denny were out. I gave him a tour of the
facilities. It had a complete stage house and the liked the small seating
area. He had played Broadway and he thought the room was intimate.

He was in a good mood when Burton and Denny arrived. They were good with
people in any social or professional situation. They treated him as a
talented and gifted actor, not as a star. They had seen some of his
performances and admired them. He had played Lear in Washington. It had
received marginal reviews. They understood his interpretation and the three
men bonded. Rod like to talk about plays and performances. He was not
interested in stardom or celebrity. The next day they were friends and
colleagues.

At some point on Saturday, they had become playmates. Denny and Burton are
accommodating and flexible men. As far as I could tell, sexually they liked
it all with the exception of S & M. Burton said, "We top, bottom and
sideways." It wasn't just that they liked it all, they were genuinely
generous, enthusiastic, excited and willing. Their enthusiasm was
infectious.

Many people like sex, but most are uneasy about it. I am never sure that I
am doing it right, or if I am pleasing my playmate. When I was a teenager I
was always afraid I would be caught jerking off, or make a mess I couldn't
clean up. The nightmare was that my mom would walk in while I was shooting
off.

Rod was closeted and shy. Denny thought he had either bad luck or shitty
taste in men. The theater is full of handsome, slim and elegant men. Rod
did not fit the pattern. He was big and did not work out.

Rod Ruthwell had been an important and successful actor for years. He was
also bad boy noted for acting up and being provocative. He had been a
handsome young man, but time and drink had not been good to him. He was now
a beefy older man with wild hair and beard. He had ended his stint as
Dr. Edwards on a long running television program a year earlier.  That had
been the last time he had shaved.

Rod was doing Macbeth, and his beard fit the role. His personal life was a
mess. He had just divorced his fifth wife. He was going to spend a month at
the Queen's Theater both rehearsing and giving acting classes for College
students.

Burton and Denny knew he was difficult. When he was good, he was very good,
when he was bad he was horrid. They wanted to keep him happy and under
control. I think any normal person would avoid him like the plague. Burton
had a plan.

Rod was ultra-macho and deep in the closet. That was at the core off his
five failed marriages and his drinking. Rod came to check out the theater
and he spent a weekend with Denny and Burton.  They discovered his
secret. New Dublin was a nice, out-of-the-way place to indulge his real
passions. Rod was a big man with big passions. The Theater with the
attached B & B and the owner's and my apartments was an ideal location for
him the let loose. For Rod, letting loose involved drinking and sex. Burton
discovered it was actually drinking or sex. He drank less when there was
more sex, and if there was a lot of sex he might not drink at all.

Rod had one good characteristic. When he was working, he was always
professional. He was also an unexpectedly good teacher. He was imposing,
demanding, but helpful. The students who worked with him were dazzled.  He
loved Shakespeare and made it live for the students.

Rod was six-feet-three and 250 pounds. You needed to add a few pounds for
his facial hair and four of five pounds of body hair. Rod wasn't hairy, he
had a coat. His cock was thicker than it was long and uncut. He had way
more skin that was needed. He had monster balls. I thought there was
something wrong with them, but they were just big and filled with cum.

Burton referred to his cock as the "ass stretcher." The first few times he
used that phrase it was a complaint.  Later it became a compliment. Burton
also used the term "gully washer" as a compliment. Rod's cock wasn't a
convenient size, but it had one characteristic that eased the way. Rod was
self-lubricating. He began to ooze at the first whiff of sexual
adventure. His oversized foreskin saved it up, and it was ready to ease the
entrance into your rectum.

His cock wasn't particularly long, but it was long enough to use my
prostate as a punching bag. He loved to fuck. Once he fucked you, his ass
was available for your use.

Rod arrived on Friday, Denny and Burton explored his sexual potential on
Saturday. He showed up at my door early Sunday morning. Denny and Burton
were still asleep. I was already up and had made coffee. His hair and beard
were more disheveled than usual. I had thought he never combed his hair,
but much it was wilder than I had imagined.

"I really need a cup of coffee," he said. Rod reminded me of a lost dog,
who was desperate for human companionship.

"Come on in. I made a big pot," I said. "Let me warn you, it is a bit on
the strong side."

"Strong is good for me," Rod replied. He was wearing boxer shorts and a
wife beater. I hadn't seen his fur coat and I was impressed. The boxer
shorts didn't have any buttons left and I could see into his crotch. I was
all dark and hairy.

"Your bosses are .  .  . entertaining," he said. "I haven't had that much
fun in years. To tell you the truth I'm not sure I've ever had that much
fun. I may have done stuff like that before, but never sober. They told me
you are a member of the club."

"I don't think of myself that way, but Denny and Burton are playful an
imaginative," I said. "They seemed to know what I wanted, even though I had
no idea I wanted it."

"Damn, that is exactly the way I felt," Rod said. "You put your finger on
it. I was shocked, but it felt so good I just enjoyed it."  He paused. "I
have a little problem.  I tend to get horny as shit first thing in the
morning. Burton mentioned you are an early riser.  I was hoping you could
help me out."

"You certainly have a direct approach," I said.

"By the way, your bosses said your job here is limited to carpentry and set
building. Sex definitely isn't part of your job description," Rod said. "I
do like the direct approach, but maybe three out of ten take me up on
it. If they know me the success rate drops to one in ten.  I am used to
rejection, so don't worry about saying no."

"I like to top," I said.

"Me too," Rod replied. "I am so horny. What if we flipped a coin? Winner
fucks the looser."

"You would bottom for me?"  I asked.

"I've bottomed enough when I'm drunk. I guess I can do it sober," he
answered. We flipped a coin. I won and we stripped. I dropped to my knees
to suck him, but we were soon in the sixty-nine position. I had assumed a
star like Rod was used to being served.  He was an enthusiastic cock sucker
and not shy at all. He was also a heavy leaker of precum. I liked that,
both because of the taste and also since it indicated he was into it. It's
hard for a naked guy to hide his feelings. Cocks can't do attitude or
pretend to be uninterested.

I worked my tongue into the puckered tip of his foreskin. Not only had he
stored up precum, he had an unusually wide slit. I could get my tongue in
it and lick the precum as he pumped it out. The more I licked it, the more
he pumped out.

I was having a good time when I began ejaculating. I thought, "Oh, shit. I
should have told him." that was just before I discovered that Rod loved
sperm. He was happy milking every drop from my balls. He wanted it all and
I didn't hold back at all. He continued to suck after he drained me. He had
a completely contented look on his face.

 I had won the coin toss, but after my climax, I wasn't going to get
hard. Fifteen minutes later he was carefully working his cock into my
ass. He took his time and we were both happy with the result. He told me
that his cock was half the normal length, but twice as wide as a normal
cock. that was hard on my ass ring and sphincter, but really good for my
prostate. Once he was in me, every movement he made rubbed my prostate,
sending me to heaven.

He pumped, thrusted and jammed it in me. Everything worked and set off
sexual fireworks in my mind. I was going crazy, but he had a comparatively
short fuse and he had flooded my ass with semen. I think he fell asleep
with his cock deflating in my ass.

"Are you okay?  I should have warned you about the sleeping bit," he said.

"It was fine," I replied. "It provided a soft landing. It was actually kind
of nice." He pulled out. Strangely my ass felt empty. I took a shower and
started clean up and repairs. The theater had become a local showplace and
I was in charge of keeping it that way.

Rod's classes were notably successful. He came by my apartment a couple of
times a week. It was a nice interlude for me and never became a problem. He
asked me if I had any local pals who liked to mess around. I told him I
did, but they were a bit rough around the edges. Rod told me he would like
that. he said he was tired of actor types. Most of them wanted more than a
fuck or blow job. The next Friday afternoon I took him to meet a couple of
nice guys I had known since I was in school.

I told him my pals were mostly tops and they had to know you for a while
before they let you fuck them. He said he was okay with him.  I had
collected on my raincheck and had fucked him. I think he liked that more
than he let on. He had a hands free orgasm while I fucked him. I took that
as a good sign.

We went to a small, rustic hunting lodge at foot of the Blue Ridge. I was
next to the park. Travis was my oldest friend and was now a park ranger. He
was a tall, muscular man with a close cropped beard. Bert was a beefy maker
of handmade furniture and he had a muskrat sized red beard.

It was Bert's family lodge and was now filled with his handsome
furniture. Rod loved it. It was sophisticated, simple and sturdy.  Bert
looked like a hillbilly, but he was a hillbilly with flair. Travis looked
as if he had walked out of an old Marine recruiting poster. The men knew of
Rod's acting career but treated him as a friendly man, not as a star.

I have to admit that most of our get togethers since High school had been
with clear sexual objectives. Neither man live near hotbeds of gay
activity. We had connected as kids and still connected. The sex was good,
but I suspected Bert and Travis wanted a little variety and excitement.

We all tended to be tops, so one of us volunteered to be the bottom. We
typically drew straws.  I had told Rod, that if he drew the short straw the
sex might be too intense for him. "When you meet them remember they may end
up in your ass and they may leave a lode of cum in you." I had explained
before we went to the lodge.

Rod said he understood. I noticed there was a good sized lump in his
trousers as I explained the rules. I had drawn the short straw several
times. I took them and it was okay, but I was embarrassed. Somehow it grew
on me and it wasn't a problem anymore. Travis was the first of us to admit
he liked it.  The second time I drew the short straw, Bert's anal probe
found something good up my ass and all was good.

We went skinny dipping in a little pond and Bert was the first to suck
Rod. Bert was a good sucker, but Rod loved resting his bull balls on Bert's
beard. Bert was a hairy man, unusual in a red haired person. When it was
time to draw straws, Rod said he would take all of us in the ass, if he had
a chance to fuck us later. That was agreeable, and Bert was the first.

Bert had a good cock for a comparative novice; it was long, but quite
thin. His balls were large and hung low in a red fur covered ball sack. He
fucked Rod from the rear, so his balls would flop against Rod's balls. Rod
had a diminutive hole, but I knew it would stretch.

I got under him and sucked Rod's cock and licked Bert's balls. Rod was hard
and dripping precum all the time, so I knew he had enjoyed it. Bert pulled
out before the orgasm and Rod rolled me over and sat on my cock. He did a
nice little dance skewered on my dick. Travis and Bert were impressed.

"Aren't you the bottom slut! I thought you were all top?" Travis said.

"This is new for me," Rod said. "I am an old dog trying to learn new
tricks." From that point on all was well. Travis and Bert were willing to
learn new tricks too.  I had been a little afraid it would turn into a gang
bang. I knew them well, but you never know what might happen when you are
erect and needy.

Our sexual vocabulary is weak. Fucking covers a wide range of
activities. Sexually crazed pounding is not the same as gently massaging an
ass with your cock. Slipping a cock into your friend's rear from behind is
often relaxing. Sometimes Burton all but falls asleep as he slow fucks
me. I admit he was never so sleepy that he forgot to keep his cock hard,
and he never forgot the climatic orgasm.

We had been at it when two men came to the door. Otha and Peyton were
friends of Bert and they were friends with benefits. They were country boys
but seemed to have no hang-ups at all. Otha saw Bert coming to the door
naked, and by the time Bert opened the door, they were wearing only their
birthday suits and erections.

I had met them once years before. I don't think they had shaved since. When
they found Bert had visitors, they joined in without hesitation. Rod liked
them and had a taste for sex with the "common" man. I was afraid Otha and
Peyton might be too common, but that wasn't a problem. they lived by
themselves in a shack in the woods, and liked anything sexual. They didn't
know who Rod was, but a new playmate was good regardless.

Rod was more imaginative than we were.  We have been doing the same thing
for years. He introduced us to the six-man daisy chain linked cock to
mouth, and then something he called inch-worming.  We got in line
fucking. Of course, one man only fucked, another only was fucked, but the
other men fucked as they were fucked. Peyton suggested that we switch
around some so everyone had a chance to fuck everyone else. He said he
never felt that he knew a man until he had been in his ass. "Everyone
forgets to put on airs and you to see the real man," he said.

"Forget whatever Peyton says to you," Otha interjected. "He's just a horny
old coot and likes to fuck. I will say that one he breeds you, you are
friends for life."

"How long did you know Peyton before you became friends, Bert asked.

"We met at a rest stop on the interstate. He shot off up my ass before I
learned his name," Otha said. We all laughed.

Both he and his pal were well equipped and we adopted their
"getting-to-know-you" scheme. They weren't educated men, but they
understood the urges of naked men. It worked well for Rod. He thought Otha
and Payton were characters and both visited his ass. I think his ass opened
up and relaxed as the group played. Of course he sucked and fucked, but he
took all five of us and he was still smiling.

Rod liked being one of the guys and we were all pals by the we returned to
the theater. Unexpectedly, Rod was no problem for the directors. He already
knew his lines.  Once and a while he would make a suggestion to Burton and
Denny. They were always sensible and tended to solve a problem with the
staging. He was good and supportive with the other actors, helping them out
with problems. He had a good influence since he knew the play so well. No
one came unprepared more than once. He had an effective, more to be pitied
than censored look that worked wonders.

The play was a complete and total success. It had great reviews in
Washington, and helped re-establish Rod as a serious actor. We extended the
run for two weeks. I thought that Rod would return to New York and forget
us, but he knew we had done him a favor, and he would do summer stock for
us.

We also became an unofficial rehab clinic for washed up actors. It was
clean living except for the sex. We gave them a chance to reestablish their
reputations. Clinics in Los Angeles, Geneva or New York had too much
temptation. It was hard to find a place with less temptation than New
Dublin. They weren't patients here, but Burton and Denny protected their
stars.

Our next star was Hamilton Smith. He was a washed up star who had been a
teen aged heart throb in the eighties.  He had been the son with no common
sense in a half hour sit-com for nine years.  He did not make the jump to
adulthood well. He had failed spectacularly in a revival of Cat on a Hot
Tin Roof in 2001.  Burton saw that production and thought poor direction
doomed the project. The director was dating the co-star who was English. He
reset the play in Brighton England. It became theater of the Absurd.

Hamilton was in his late fifties and he showed every year. Burton picked
Death of a Salesman. Hamilton was perfect. His other problem was sexual.
When he was young and pretty, he had a slew of beautiful young men after
him. They had all vanished and he replaced them with Martinis. That was bad
for his heath and looks.

He looked pretty average now; ideal for the play but not for his ego.