Date: Tue, 14 Dec 2021 11:36:49 -0500 From: Bob Subject: Rooting, Tooting, Tommy Rooting, Tooting, Tommy Topper 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 winarch47@yahoo.com Tommy Topper may have had more movie credits that any other actor in Hollywood, between 1930 and 1947. That is if you treat each episode of a serial as a movie. He favorite roles were as a cowboy. He was a loner, quiet man accompanied only his horse, Belinda, and his trusty dog, Tumble Weed. He didn't talk much and loved is horse and dog. He also raked in cash from thousands of young boys who loved him. He was the perfect star for kids who thought girls were a waste. Once they hit puberty, Tommy's star power faded. From time to time, he would save a girl, mother or granny from Indians, rustlers, or bank robbers. Tommy was a good athlete and could do impressive tricks on the back of the horse. Talking was not his strength. Yes ma'am, no sir and stick them up made up a major part of his vocabulary. He never did personal appearances. The publicity department said that was because he was solving crimes and putting the bad guys in jail. Young boys loved it. I am Marty Malone. Officially I am his personal assistant. Unofficially I am his keeper. Tommy was handsome, muscular, and strong. A rock on the side of a road had a higher IQ. He had an obsessive need to have sex with men. He had a horse cock, and he was hunting for tight warm places to unload his monster balls. I had the distinction of being the first man who took his cock up my ass and liked it. My job was to find other accommodating asses. Tommy was a nice guy who happened to be horse hung. Tommy was a strong man who could make his cock fit in an ordinary asshole. That was painful and caused ill feelings. Man to man sex was unacceptable in general. One story about him fucking a man, and his career was over. Parents would not allow their boy to see a man who was "that way." Tommy was a gold mine for the studio. Every short was a success. Most movies hired people to write a script. Tommy didn't need a script. His vocabulary was too small. He didn't need a plot either. The plots were the same, except for substituting bank robbers, Mexican Banditos, Chinese Gangsters, or African Natives. No minority group was too small and defenseless to avoid Tommy's wrath. Tommy had another problem, he could refill his balls in minutes. Once he was in the mood, the could fuck for hours. Men who could take one poke of his cock, were not happy about the second, third of forth orgasms. My cock is not as long as Tommy's, but it is the same diameter. When it comes to fucking, heft is a bigger problem than depth. Tommy was strong and he put his all into his acrobatic tricks. At the end of the day, he was exhausted, and he went to bed early. He usually awoke with an erection, but I was there and could take his load. The weekends were calm, and he wanted new asses to fuck. At that time strong silent types were in style. Hollywood was loaded with them. Of course, only a few made it big. You might think that telling a guy that you need to do a trial fuck before the got to take Tommy's cock would be a problem. You would be underestimating the effect of star power. I am a bit stocky and hairy. While I'm not handsome, I have access to a star. That is what counts. Some men dabble in sex and are willing to use it to there advantage. The usually beg off when my knob touches their sphincter. Some men aren't right for Tommy but are right for me. I weed them out. I like men who want sex, and if they do it with a star, all the better. Sometimes when I pop past the sphincter, it magic. It's wonderful when you find a man who needs your cock in his ass to be complete. Hollywood can be a cutthroat place. Most of the time it is a cutthroat place. I you like man sex, most men are less vicious. If you expose a man as homosexual, the obvious question is, "How did you discover that?" You could try saying that you caught a glimpse of it. Since man sex is so private, it is still hard to explain. Of course, being a star in a children's serial, is not going to get you an award. Tommy was just a guy who got lucky. It was just a fluke that his serials were so popular. He didn't live high on the hog or boast of his success. I was surprised that finding men who were interested in Tommy and willing to let me fuck them to get to Tommy was not a problem. I am not an intimidating man; Tommy is just a guy who likes to fuck. Tommy did find a friend, Lamont Lazaro, the Latin heart throb. Lamont had a look that drove women crazy. He had been a great star of early moves before the talkies. He was not much in demand anymore, but he was one of the few stars who had been careful about money. Tommy and Lamont met and when Lamont saw Tommy's cock he was in love. He liked big cocks, but he didn't want to be ripped in half. Tommy brought him home to meet me. I was shocked when Lamont was interested. He had a humble upbringing. His father was a dock worker in San Francisco. Lamont was excited by beefy, hairy men. I was ugly, but that hit the spot for Lamont. I hit two or three new spots. I got carried away, and I shot off in him. That turned-on Tommy. My seed lubricated Lamont's ass and it was good for both. They had a great time. Eventually Lamont fucked me as Tommy fucked him. That was a total success. They shot off simultaneously. Lamont went home, and Tommy licked the sperm dripping from my ass. "Tommy, isn't it strange that half the women in the county would love take Lamont's your seed in them, and you are licking it out of my ass?" I said. "It is strange. There is a problem though. I can't tell if I like Lamont's or your seed the most?" he said. I laughed and more of their seed drooled out of my ass. A little later he pushed his cock into me and shot off again. I shot off a little later, Tommy pulled out and licked my sperm. He looked up at me and said, "I think I like yours the most." Tommy rarely showed emotion, and admitting he liked my sperm was high praise indeed. He was generous in sharing his own his cock and his seed. I lived in his Mexican style hacienda. Tommy was away most of the day. The appetite for Rooting. Tooting Tommy Topper serials was demanding. He would do one chapter a day, so he produced a complete serial every week. I usually I had a quiet day at home. I had been on the fringes of the movie business for ten years. I knew a lot of people. Actors came to me for advice. While I am levelheaded and knowledgeable, I had a suspicion that my sexual skills were related to my popularity. I never thought of myself as being sexually skilled. I do believe that practice makes perfect, and I had lots of practice. I was also blessed by being a nobody. A little fling with me could be good or bad. It didn't affect their careers. While I'm not attractive, but I am masculine, and I top, bottom, suck, and like to be sucked. I like it all, so I am accommodating. When I became Tommy's man, I encountered men looking to meet him. The first guy I encountered was Donny Dickson. Donny looked like a fifteen-year-old even though he was twenty-four. He specialized in all singing and all dancing movies focused on Debby Taylor, a teen ingénue. She was getting older and was moving into Romantic Comedies. Donny couldn't be convincing as a romantic lead. Donny was a nice guy, and when he was naked, he clearly wasn't a boy. We sucked until he was hard, he fucked me. It was a good recreational cock. His ass was too tight for my cock, so he was not the guy for Tommy. It turned out he was always in heat and was always ready. Donny shared an apartment with two to actors. He would call me when he met some one and needed a place. The most exciting man I met was Monty Smithson. He was a romantic lead and was working up to a top billing in "important" movies. Women loved him and he was seen escorting big stars in night clubs. He was unlucky in love. No one guessed that all the women he escorted had the same flaw, they didn't have a cock and balls. Tommy and I had the right qualifications for Monty. He was a size queen too. Tommy was a little too big for Monty, but Monty wanted to take it anyway. It was a tight but rewarding. Tommy and he became friends. Monty had a secret get away in the mountains west of Los Angeles. Normally the important actors kept away from the lower tier of actors such as the men who did the serials. Tommy looked good, but since all the movies were talkies now, Tommy was no threat. Tommy's ability to read and memorize scripts was minimal. His body and genitals were admired. Tommy was invited to Monty's hide away. I was invited too. I had a modest reputation a connoisseur of men. I was good at finding well-hung men, but I also had a skill at telling when a man had mental problems or a proclivity to extortion. I inherited that from my father. He was a floor manager in a downtown department store. When he interviewed a new employee, he sensed who would be on time and capable and who would be taking merchandise home for their own use. Sex is its own reward. There is no need to money to be exchanged. Monty's friends included Rollo Mills, an orchestra conductor; Lionel DeVere who played gentlemen detectives; and Fairmont Trent, who had a wider range of acting skills than the other men. He was a soldier in the trenches of France, a brilliant doctor, and the captain of a doomed ocean liner. The wits on the set called it the Miniature-Titanic. His movies were all successful. Tommy and I were the low men on the totem pole. Luckily for most men a big cock makes up for being a poor actor. We were both capable of taking multiple penetrations and producing multiple orgasms. We had great stamina. We had a light lunch beside the pool. Monty hadn't mentioned swimming. He apologized for that and then added, "You men are lucky. My pool is specially designed for nude swimming. None of the guests had any problem with that. First appearances are deceiving, especially with actors and performers for whom pretending to be other people is a job requirement. Rollo Mills was a high style, intellectual composer, and conductor. He immediate went for Tommy. Neither Rollo nor Tommy had any problem finding common interests. Lionel was an effete and pretentious on-screen detective. He was effete, but he liked lower class men. If I were cast in a movie, I would be a long shore man or a boxer down on his luck. I get five o'clock shadow at noon and while I am balding, it looks as if I could do a comb over with my chest hair. I scare young girls at the beach, but I didn't scare Lionel. That is not exactly true. I looked slightly dangerous to Lionel. He craved sex, but his folks must had scared the hell out of him preaching the dangers of sex. I scared him, and that meant he had to do what I demanded. I never demand anything, but it was his fantasy, not me that scared him. He soon sucked my cock. He tried to swallow my entire cock. He came close, and had his nose in my pubes. He then pulled off and sucked my hairy balls. When he returned to sucking my cock, he had a peaceful satisfied look of a baby sucking his mother's breast. Every time I oozed some precum, he smiled a little. A new man arrived, Crazy Larry. He was an older Vaudeville actor who made the jump to movies. At first, he was doing Vaudeville acts on film, but he had recently been cast as a comic sidekick. He looked overweight on screen, but that must have been due to the costume. He was solid, nicely hung and obsessed with sperm. He came with two "associates," Ronnie and Jerry. I think they had once been in a rival to the "Our Gang," movies, but they had aged. They aged badly. They weren't ugly, but all things that made them cute child stars, turned sour. Lionel was a close friend of Crazy Larry, so he went to talked with him. I talked with Ronnie and Jerry. They were at the party to meet Tommy. They had heard stories about Tommy's cock and wanted to see it. then went off and Monty came over to me. "It seems to be a bit sedate here," Monty said. "Fucking and sucking doesn't mean you are romantically head over heels in love, but it can be loving. I assume you aren't a virgin?" "My heart is pure," I said. "I'm not so sure about my ass." Monty leaned close to me. "I've only shot off in a guy's ass once. I loved it. I would like to try it again to see if I liked it as much as I thought I did. "I bottom, but I like it slow and easy. When a guy takes his time, the final explosion is great," I said. "I can take my time, but I am never sure how long I can hold back the orgasm," Monty said and then began to whisper, "I've never done it, but I wouldn't mind a liquid token of you affection in my ass after I've plowed you." Of course, his cock was in my ass a minute or two later. I would classify Monte's cock. It may not have been museum sized, but it took some effort to take. It was rewarding once it was in. He varied the rhythm of his thrusts and made a slow but steady increase in his pace up to his orgasm. He had distinctly separate orgasms that seemed sincere. We both felt the warmth of his orgasm. We had a break for dinner. While it was an orgy, the dinner made it feel more like a party. When sex resumed as it began to get dark, it seemed more calm, intimate, and sexual. We all had too much to drink to drive back to LA, so we spent the night. Somehow, I was in a bed with Monty, Lionel, and Crazy Larry. My taste for the bottom had been noted. I discovered that I did not need to be one hundred percent conscious to be fucked, and I woke up thinking that Crazy Larry had a prehensile cock. The party broke up after breakfast and I was back home shortly after noon. Tommy Topper was a C borderline B list actor. No one referred to him as Hollywood Royalty. After Monty Smithson's party Tommy and I moved up to the B or A list parties. Tommy continued doing Saturday matinees serials, and his acting skills remained minimal, but he was quiet and polite. He didn't embarrass hosts, and he could be accommodating to men who like beautiful bodies and didn't care about the contents of his brain. I was accommodating and could carry on an intelligent conversation. Intelligent conversation is good, but I knew my tendency to like the bottom and the top played a role too. We got invitations to A list parties. Tommy got some walk on roles when a handsome stud was needed. Diving into a pool or walking up a beach were his strongest skills. Sometimes men get talkative after an orgasm. I am a good listener and while I am not like an Agony Aunt from the newspaper, I do recognize the obvious. I was talking with Henri DuLac. He was the bad guy in the Montague of the Mounties Movies. He was in trouble. He was French and all was fine in silent films. With the talkies, a real French accent was a bit too much. There was a preference for English speaking actors doing a comic version of French. It was a problem of educated Black actors too. For them being articulate was a curse. Henri was a French speaking Italian from southern France. He was tall, bearded and had an impressive hairy chest. In most of the movies, the bad guys were bearded; the good guys were smooth or had a pencil thin mustache. His cock peaked out from his pubic bush. We had a nice conversation. He was looking for new roles. I suggested the look for roles as French soldier in war movies. He would be an ideal mud-covered man in the trenches. He was a sophisticated man, and he had been hunting for man-of-the-world roles. He saw the logic in my thinking. As the party wound down, he leaned close to my ear and whispered, "I was told you are a bottom. My balls are filled to overflowing. Would you like to come to my apartment?" Only if you promise to shoot every drop of sperm in your balls into my ass," I replied. He looked at me oddly, then burst into laughter. "You are a wit! It took me some time to translate!" We went to his apartment. Henri had a small apartment nearby. He had a good income, but he sent a major portion to his parents in Arles. We went to his bedroom and stripped. He told me he was seen with starlets in night clubs. Most of them were hoping to connect with bigger stars. "None of them want to have my babies," he explained. "Men's asses are tighter." "I promise not to get pregnant. You have a nice cock. Could you take your time? I like to feel a man get excited as he get's close to shooting?" I asked. He said that was fine with him. It took me two or three minutes to know that my ass wasn't just a vagina substitute for Henri. My ass was the main attraction. Cocks don't talk, but his cock was happy and responsive to my ass and my sphincter's effort to massage it. "It's so beautiful," he moaned. "I dread shooting off. That will end the pleasure." "It's good for me too. You know you have to shoot off. I love that too," I said. "How many times can you shoot off in a night?" "Twice," he replied. "Perhaps I could shoot a third or forth time in the morning?" I was fine with that.