A Quiet Life 4 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. I have made no effort to portray safe sex practices. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
That summer I had a job working at a site on the Eastern Shore of Virginia in a place called Dark Creek. A researcher discovered that Dark Creek was called Chough-a-Tan by the Indians. In the records of Colonial Virginia, Chough-a-Tan was listed as a major trading and slave importing center. A storm in 1702 washed away a sand bar that protected the port from the sea. It was abandoned. Dark Creek was originally Darkie's Creek and that could have been a reference to the slave trade.
Chough-a-Tan vanished from the records and it had been assumed it had vanished in the storm. In fact, the name had vanished, not the town. It was referred later to as the "olde" town. The town was modestly interesting, but records indicated several slave ships sank in the storm and recently some relics had been found in the water. There was a chance remains of the ships had been buried in the sand. This would be a major discovery.
The expedition had two parts, one for the underwater investigation, one on land. A woman from the Smithsonian was in charge, but she was a desk archaeologist and didn't like being in the field. The second in charge was an underwater man, Dennis Smith. He was hands on and good. I was to run the volunteer labor, but since the director wasn't much involved, I had much more authority than I expected. Luckily most of the land staff was experienced.
Dennis was a real archaeologist, not a treasure hunter. Working with him were two men, Junior and Will, who were local fishermen and were familiar with the local waters. Another diver pulled out pulled out at the last minute. I was surprised to have Phil show up. He provided his diving skills and was interested in the early history of the area. The land crew consisted of a local school teacher, Taylor, and two graduate archaeology students from Delaware and Maryland. Frank and Steven. We had one female diver, Julie, and two undergrad diggers, Carol and Maxine.
Taylor was working on his PhD and was knowledgeable about local history. Junior gave the impression of being a red neck, but he knew the water in the area well.
I personally would have preferred discovering a new Pompeii, but Dennis told me that my discovery of a colonial skeleton in full armor was likely to my most impressive find of my lifetime. Great discoveries are rare in modern archaeology.
The site was on a farm of 600 acres. We had a central tent that served as headquarters. We scattered secondary tents for the staff around the site. This gave us privacy and helped to discourage site seers. The women stayed in the old farmhouse, near the road. Smith was with Taylor and Will in a tent near the water to the north. I was with Phil and Junior near a spring, Frank and Steve were in a tent on the water to the south.
Taylor had worked with early maps of the area. He redrew them to relate to modern maps. The early maps had errors, but once you corrected for those, his maps were remarkably accurate. The first week we found indications of a warehouse and the brick foundation of another building. This was a shock since we did not suspect a brick building. Junior found a plank of carved wood in the water on the north side of the creek. This was possibly from a ship.
As is typical of Tidewater Virginia, it was hot and muggy. The breeze from the water provided some cooling. If it came from the land is cooled some, but it also brought mosquitoes. The tent had screen openings which let only a portion of the air through, so much of the time the tent was hot at night.
Junior was big and strong, and borderline ugly. He was also smart, funny and cheerful. He typically wore an open Hawaiian shirt and a Speedo a few sizes too small for him. Phil wore Speedos, and maybe a shirt. I wore baggy pants and a tee shirt during the day.
After three days, we were asleep in the tent when a violent thunderstorm hit. We zipped up the windows and tried to sleep, but soon it was hot as hell.
"Are you guys awake?" Junior asked. Phil and I said yes.
"When it is hot like this I like to have some fun. You know, play with yourself fun," he said. "Would that bother you?"
"It's dark and hot, I don't think it would be a problem," Phil said.
"When I was in the scouts we used to play with the guys. We had races to see who could shoot off first," Junior added.
"Did you win?" I asked. Junior chuckled.
"I usually lost. I was the oldest boy there and I knew the looser had the most fun," Junior said.
"Was this a looser sucks the winner sort of thing?" Phil asked.
"We weren't that adventurous," Junior said. "We did light a match to see the white stuff. I shot a lot and that impressed the younger guys."
"Do you still shoot a lot?" I asked.
"I do," he said, "I'm older now. I wouldn't mind sucking the winner now. I might even get a kick out of it."
"I wouldn't mind that either," I added. "I could do the loser or the winner."
"Are you a cock sucker?" Junior asked.
"I sure am," I replied.
"You are the first man I met who admits that," Junior said. "I'm one of those cock suckers who doesn't admit it, but I do it and I love it."
"We seem nice and compatible," Phil said.
"Have you sucked a guy to completion cum and all?" I asked.
"I've done that, but spit it out. I did have a pal and I took his when he went to the Army. I didn't think I would like it, but he is dead now. Sometimes I can still taste it," Junior said. "I do need to admit one thing; I've never sucked a Black guy."
"You're afraid his cum would taste of chocolate?" Phil asked. We laughed.
"I'm not as bad as that!" Junior protested. "It is more from lack of opportunity."
"I shoot a huge load. You might choke on it," Phil said continuing the banter.
"Are you trying to scare me away, or turn me on?" Junior asked.
"You tell me?" Phil asked.
"To tell you the truth, I'm a little scared and a lot turned on," Junior replied. I went over to him and sucked his cock. It seemed fat, thick and stubby. Uncut, he had stored all the sex juices he oozed during the conversation in the skin. His balls were huge. Junior was a big, sort of crude man; his cockhead was delicate and responsive.
Phil and come over a fed Junior his cock. I couldn't see that in the dark, but there was a sudden gush of precum and I could hear him sucking. He had finally sucked a black cock.
The second week of excavations began with a Monday morning meeting with the entire staff. We had found what appeared to be carved decoration from a ship. Taylor found in old records a mention of the storm with a strong wind from the south-east for a day and a half. If that was the case, it would have blown water up the creek, potentially combining it with two high tides. That would be enough to flood the settlement.
I asked where the ships would have been blown if the winds blowing things to the north-west. Junior and Will knew all about coastal winds. Most storms head north-east following the coast. Dennis was looking at the area to the south of the creek, where the sand bar had re-established itself.
I suggested we take a quick look at a sandy area to the north. We did a quick ground radar survey and found had a cluster of responses. While most of the crew worked on the brick building in the settlement, Taylor, Phil and I opened an exploratory pit in the middle of the responses.
At 2:15 we found nails lodged in wood. At 3:30 we found shackles and a chain attached to a human arm bone. This was a stunning discovery. We had found a slave ship and part of its human cargo for the first time in American archaeology. We called the head of the expedition, Betty Woodman, at her office in the Smithsonian.
With a discovery like this, logically a more senior and experienced team would take over the dig. Our desk jockey team leader had impressive bureaucratic skills. She had been passed over for the more prestigious expeditions. There was no way they would take this project way from her and by extension us.
Phil and I played a role in this. I was a minor celebrity for my discovery of the man in armor. I was now the bone-finder. That had a nice Indian Jones feel to it. I also knew Red, a well-known and popular documentary maker. Phil was a famous football player's son. Researchers soon found out that his family came from Maryland. That was guaranteed to generate good publicity. By the time our desk jockey, Betty Woodman's rivals tried to move in on her, she had it all sewn up. Betty had the team and a documentary movie deal in the bag.
Red, Rusty, Guido and Carl had moved in with three Winnebago's and complete video and recording equipment. Red and Rusty's plan was to observe and do interviews as things were uncovered and then to weave them into the historic story. Red wanted to combine the thrill of discovery with meaty historic commentary.
This was a bit odd for me. I associated Red and his pals with sex, not work. I didn't know how that would work out. It turned out that Red and his crew were complete professionals and never mixed business with pleasure. There was never an out of place comment or gesture. When he wasn't working, Red believed in the phrase "work hard and play hard." In his case the working hard was metaphorical; the play hard was literal.
Our budget increased, and we now had a tent over the ship so we could excavate it in the shade. We found three more bodies, and a good part of the hull. The captain's quarters at the stern were missing. Dennis thought that the ship's stern might have broken off to the south.
We worked in the field from six in the morning to two in the afternoon. This was the cool part of the day. The East Coast was experiencing a record breaking heat wave, so it was never cool in a technical sense. It was less oppressive. We sometimes had a second work period after dinner. We had several visiting specialists. Ruth was a forensic anthropologist, Nigel was an English specialist in Tudor shipbuilding.
Red's people had a generator. It was mostly for Guido's equipment, but it did power a few fans. The lack of air-conditioning was Red's choice. He found that being the fat cats with the air-conditioning on a project made for bad interviews. The Winnebagos formed three sides of a square. Our tent formed the fourth side. We now had security guards patrolling the edge of the property. The female members of the expedition moved to a hotel. One of the excavators, Carol's, family visited and paid for the rooms. They were wealthy, and sleeping in an un air-conditioned room appalled them. The ladies had an active social schedule and were away for most weekends. Dennis, Will and the students moved into the farmhouse.
As for our little compound, the dress code became quite informal. After the work day was over, Red and his crew liked to show off their equipment. Phil and Junior noticed and went with the flow. I had no problem being naked or nearly naked, Red and Rusty's cocks caused a serious inching in my ass that their cocks could only scratch. I think I was embarrassed at my urge to take big cocks.
By this time, I knew this was the case but I wasn't sure if I wanted my friends to know. I have no idea why I was worried about that, Red and his friends knew about my interests, Phil and Junior had a good idea. They certainty enjoyed man play.
Will visited us. Dennis typically had a few beers with dinner and went to bed early. A "few beers" is a euphemism, but he was always sober by the morning. Will was Junior's pal and when he saw Rusty naked, I knew he was Junior's playmate tool. Will wasn't gay; he just liked sex and would play with men, women and alluring vegetables if nothing else was available.
Rusty was both smart and perceptive. He had noticed Phil and Junior's interest immediately. I think he could sniff out Will's sexual tastes. Rusty was sitting naked in the court yard at dusk, when Will saw his cock for the first time.
"Damn, that's one hell of a cock," Will said. "It's almost too much to just piss through. It is pretty."
"I can do a lot more than just piss through it. I use it as a tonsil scratcher one and a while," Rusty said. Rusty usually took the high road when talking about sex. "Once and a while I help out a pal who needs his ass stretched because his hole is too small."
"Does it rearrange a guy's innards?" Will asked.
"They all end up where they started," Rusty said. Red came out of the Winnebago. He was nude too. He had been listening to the conversation.
"Everything goes back where it belongs. If the guy is lucky, he's been to some places he had never been to before," Red said.
"You guys aren't that shy, are you?" Will asked.
"Would you be shy if you were hung the way they are?" Junior asked. We all laughed and the conversation continued. During the conversation, Will mentioned that he didn't mind messing around with guys once an a while.
Rusty, who tended to be direct, said he didn't mind messing around with guys if he reached his goals.
"Does your goal include making a mess with the white, sticky stuff?" Will asked.
Rusty laughed. "I usually leave it in a guy's mouth or ass, so there isn't much mess," he explained adding, "Luckily, my man cream is plentiful and tasty."
"I'm not sure I could do that," Will said as he stared at Rusty's cock. It was getting firm due to the conversation. "I would love to see you in action," Will added.
"I've lost the training wheels for my cock and I'm not into entertaining tourists," Rusty said. "You know, it doesn't make any difference if a guy just barely pokes his knob into your ass, or if he goes in deep. You are fucked either way."
We talked a little longer but it was getting late and we had to be up by 5:30 the next morning. I woke at five. Junior was jacking off, so I went over to help. I knew he liked shooting when he didn't need to clean up afterwards. I took his load. He spurted thick, creamy semen from his wide slit. I wedged my tongue in the slit and trapped his ejaculations in his cock. That drove him crazy. I moved my tongue and got the entire load in one big gush.
He complained that it was too much, but he never pushed me away. Junior was a massive, macho man. He was embarrassed that my tongue wedged in his cock could drive him crazy. I realized that for him, it was better to be embarrassed that do without the sexual high.
As I swallowed his load, I realized I had a similar reaction. Squirming in ecstasy as a horse hung man pounded my ass was embarrassing. I lost control to a cock. When Red, Rusty or Phil were in me, I was theirs. It was impossible to be cool, smart and collected wiggling on a cock.
I assume everyone has a quirk. Some people like leather, pain, jocks, or a fist in their ass. I continued to suck Junior as he cooled down. He had a late ejaculation refreshing the sperm taste in my mouth.
We had a nice, post-orgasmic talk. "Does Will like man sex as much as you?" I asked.
"He pretends women are the main attraction, but man-sex has fewer strings and complications," Junior replied. He has a daughter from his teen age years. That was bad and sort of took the bloom off sex with women." Junior began to whisper. "I tried to fuck him once."
"How did that go?" I asked.
"I had just managed to get my cock at his hole ready to push it in when Will stopped me," he said. "He pulled away. I thought he lost his nerve."
"That happens," I said.
"It wasn't that. He shot off!" Junior explained. I realized that Will and Rusty would soon be getting a lot closer. I knew how demanding an itch in the ass can be for a size queen.
The next weekend was the 4th of July, and most of our team was visiting home and family. Phil was off in Florida, everyone in the farmhouse was gone, except for Will and Tylor. I suggested that Will might bunk with us rather than stay alone in the house. Junior suggested that Taylor might like to join us. Carl was off, but Red, Guido and Rusty stayed.
The 4th was on Monday so it was a four-day weekend. It was also 100 degrees every day. We spent a lot of time in the water. There were multiple boaters in the main waterway. The boats were okay, their motors weren't. We went to an old mill pond near the site. It was quiet on the pond, the perfect place for a peaceful summer weekend. The water wasn't cool, but it wasn't that hot either.
We had a lunch of sandwiches and beer. Guido made the sandwiches. The beers were good and plentiful. I think Will, Junior and Taylor had a few more beers than I did. Red said he liked to skinny dip and asked if anyone objected. There was no objection. Red and Rusty stripped and jumped into the water. Their oversized genitals had the expected effect on Will, Junior and Taylor. They were already hard when they jumped in the water naked and swam over to talk with them.
I had a clear vision how the afternoon would turn out, but was unsure how we would get there. I should have realized that seven horny men could work things out quickly. It seemed casual and natural, but ten minutes we had all made genital contact with someone.
I don't know if an orgy can be relaxed and friendly. We were all friends, but instead of shaking hands or hugging we fondled or sucked genitals. Taylor seem to approach Rusty's cock with almost religious awe. Will found Red's cock really exciting close up.
I was with Guido and Junior. I was milking Guido's cock of its store of precum. My ass was in the air and my legs were a bit spread. Junior seemed to like that.
"Why don't you use that ass pug of yours to open Johnny up a bit. He will appreciate that when Rusty and Red take their turn," Guido suggested. Junior was willing and Guido had a bag of lubricants handy.
I soon discovered that a cock doesn't need to be big; it just needs to be big enough. Junior's organ reached my prostate and used it as a punching bag for almost ten minutes. He also knew when to slow down and avoid an early orgasm. He held off for almost ten minutes. Junior had a loud, vocal accompaniment to his orgasm. I was still sucking Guido and I got a mouthful of his Italian man seed. He and Junior shared their post orgasmic letdowns.
Red was with Will and Junior. I went over to Taylor and Rusty.. Taylor was an ordinary looking man, bald, bearded and slim. I guessed he was a jogger. He had that look. I had no thoughts about his sexual tastes, but Will must have known something when he invited him to join us. he didn't have any problem getting naked. He was one of those men who have a taste for unattractive clothes in the wrong size. He looked better nude than dressed. He was more muscular than I had guessed and had a hairy chest and treasure tail to his bush.
Taylor had been watching but no doing much. His semi erect cock indicated interest. "Are you uneasy about this?" Rusty asked.
"I guess I am. This is a lot for a nice Baptist boy to take in," Taylor replied.
"Do you think it would be easier of you were Episcopalian?" Rusty asked. Taylor laughed.
"You have a point there," Taylor replied.
"My dad was preacher in a holy roller church. Gay sex was bad, but he thought smiling was a bit suspect," Rusty said. "I met Red and ended sitting on his totem pole doing a fancy dance. When I didn't get struck down by a lightning strike from on high I realized that dad may not have had it right."
"Are you still waiting for divine retribution?" Taylor asked.
"That was 25 years ago, maybe judgement is coming, but I've had a lot of fun since then. I'm thinking that God may look more favorably on pleasure than my Dad thought," Rusty said. "Dad died five years ago, and I'm not sure he brought any happiness to anyone."