Academics 2: The Astronomer 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
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It is safe to say that when you spend most of your life waking up at sunset and going to bed at dawn after spending the night in an unheated dark room, you aren't the most social person in the world. I am John Miller PhD. I work at the Miller Observatory at Blue Ridge University. I am not related to John Miller who donated the observatory to the university. I suspect that a statistically significant number of men in the world are named John Miller. It is a name like Tom Jones or Robert Smith.
The observatory dates from 1880 and is not up to date. I think there may have been an upgrade of the old mechanism of the telescope 70 years go in the 1950s, but that is about that. We have observations taken over 120 years, from the same location by the same instrument. That is valuable information and I am the one who is still making observations.
I dated someone in college, but I never encountered anyone who was as obsessed by astronomy as I was. I didn't find many people who were interested in astronomy at all.
My life was quiet, without drama and entirely satisfactory to me. It all changed when I found a comet. It was a bright comet and it had a blue trail. It was obvious to me that the comet was made of an odd material that burned faintly blue.
It was a sensation. The comet grew to be impressive, but it was even more important because it was discovered at Blue Ridge University on a 140-year-old telescope. The story had human interest as well as scientific significance. Everyone called it the Blue Ridge Comet. For the University, it was worth millions of dollars of free publicity. While we were well regarded academically we lacked a winning football or basketball team.
The phrase "well regarded, but little-known university," was a publicity gold mine. I had to give interviews to reporters. I am not good looking, but I apparently photographed well enough and one reporter told me that I perfectly fit the role of the eccentric, but brilliant academic. That is when I met Joel Stillwell and his cameraman Buster.
Joel was a local celebrity, the weatherman and jack-of-all-trades at WBRM. I think he was hot stuff when he was younger; he wasn't young anymore. He was genuinely helpful during blizzards and hurricanes. Other times he just mailed it in. Buster was entranced by the observatory and its ancient equipment.
The appointment was at 1:00 in the afternoon, and Joel wanted to film the comet. I shocked him when I told him it had to be dark to see the comet. He was disappointed, but he told Buster to come back that night. Buster said he had a date. That offended Joel and they argued. It was clear the men didn't get along well.
I told them the comet was visible from 9:00 PM to five the next morning. Buster said he could get to the observatory at 11:00. They filmed a brief interview with me and left. I went to my little apartment next to the observatory and took a nap. The apartment was originally just room and a bath. The bedroom was a lean-too on the side opposite from the bath.
It was a rare clear summer's night and the stars and comet were sharp and bright. Buster showed up at the observatory at 10:30. He had been drinking, but once he got his cameras out, he was entirely professional. The comet put on a good show and he was enthusiastic. My photographs are purely descriptive. I use the same viewpoints that we have been using since 1900 to insure we catch the exact movements of stars and galaxies. When I say movement, I am talking about barely perceptible movements over decades of observations.
Buster was taking more dramatic images for public distribution. These have little scientific value, but they do inspire interest in astrology. That helps with recruiting new astronomers and encourage funding. Buster was both enthusiastic and skilled and I think he enjoyed the experience.
Around 3:30, he was sleepy, and I suggested he go to my apartment and rest. He seemed to be falling asleep on his feet, and the road to the observatory was narrow and dark. He thought that was a good idea and left. Apartment is a grand name for what is essentially a crash pad or nap room.
I left the observatory at 4:30 and went to bed. I woke up at 8:00 and went to take a shower. I was naked except for a towel over my shoulder. I had forgotten Buster was at the apartment. I hadn't noticed him sleeping on the couch.
He said, "Good morning." I started, but remembered him.
"You surprised me, I am usually alone here," I said. "The dress code is not usually this informal!"
"We are all boys here," Buster replied. "It's not a problem." I went into the bath and turned on the shower. As soon as I was in, Buster poked his head in.
"Is there room for two?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer; he was already naked and he joined me. I was shocked. "I was hoping you were gay," he said in explanation.
"I don't think I'm gay," I responded.
"If you're not sure, I'll can do a few experiments and let you know," he said as he dropped to his knees and sucked my cock. I was shocked again, but my cock loved it.
It is hard to claim you aren't interested in gay sex when your cock is hard as a rock. While I had no experience, I seemed to know Buster was a master cock sucker.
Two or three minutes later I shot off. I thought that would bother Buster, but he seemed to like it and he sucked my dry, taking every drop of sperm.
He stood up. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Oh yes," I replied. That wasn't what I expected to say, but it just slipped out. "I've never felt anything like that before."
"It was your first time?" he asked. I nodded.
"Well, I can either leave you and hope that no harm has been done, or I can do it again," Buster said. "Which do you want?"
"I don't really know," I said. I paused and added, "I'm kind of leaning towards doing it again."
Buster smiled, "The first time can be a bit shocking, but it is pleasurable. Usually, the pleasure over rides the shock."
"Is the second time as good as the first?" I asked.
Buster laughed. "Some guys think the first time is best. I am a practice makes perfect man. It seems to me that it gets better the more you do it." We finished the shower, he blew me again and he went home. I had a class to teach at 10:00 so I dressed and went to my office in the Science building. I wasn't sure what I thought of the interlude with Buster, but as is often the case, Astronomy resumed its normal role in my life and I didn't think about Buster for the next few days.
The interview aired several days later and went well. The pictures were good, and I sounded intelligent. Joel helped me with that since intelligent didn't seem to be his strong suit. Compared to him, I was great. Buster has sent some of his best photos to a wire service. He had also done a time-lapse shot over an hour, they made it to national news. The high-quality pictures taken on the old telescope were noteworthy.
He called me a two weeks later and asked to do another photo shoot. I said that was fine. On the next clear night, he arrived with his cameras and a new mount to connect it with my telescope. He attached it to a higher powered digital camera.
Taking a time lapse photo is time consuming and boring. In that respect, it is very much like astronomy. I had nothing to do while he was there, but I cannot leave the telescope alone when a non-astronomer is using it. It is a delicate machine. If anything happened to the telescope it would cost hundreds of thousands to replace. We talked.
"I guess you noticed that I am a bit forward about sex," he said. "I hope I didn't offend you?"
"I was surprised, but not offended," I replied. "Did you think I am gay?"
"Not exactly. I tend to be forward and I have a good track record guessing right. Some guys aren't gay, but a blow job can only be so bad," he said. "You got hard in seconds, and you were oozing precum in seconds. I thought you liked it. Did it bother you?"
I smiled and said, "I was almost offended, but as you said, a blow job can only be so bad."
"I enjoyed it," he said. "At the risk of offending you again, I was surprised I liked it so much. You aren't my type."
"What is your type?"
"Young, perky and cute," Buster said.
"You don't think I am young and cute!" I exclaimed. "I was young once, but I don't recall ever being perky or cute." He laughed.
"My Mom says that I was a bruiser at age one. Dad's family tended to look like Neanderthals," he explained.
"Red-haired Neandertals?"
He nodded. "No one thinks I am gay. I'm way too big. I don't fit the florist or interior decorator image of gay men," he said. "By the way, gay sex can be a lot more than a blowjob. I'm no virgin and I can do it all."
"I'm not sure about that," I said.
"You won't know until you try," Buster said. "There may be some hits and a few misses. In my experience, there are a lot more hits than misses. We could stop anytime you want."
"I'm not sure I want to get into this that deep," I said.
"Let me make a confession. I'm not into deep relationships. I like sex with men and the physical pleasure it gives me. You are an okay guy with a great cock. Would I insult you if I said I'm after your cock and am not interested in love?" Buster said. "It is just fun for me, and hopefully for you."
"That seems superficial," I said.
"It's superficial with multiple orgasms if we play our cards right. It's not the same thing!"
I am a scientific and academic type, but Buster's approach had definite appeal. We went to the little apartment and took a shower. We then went to the bed and did what he called a sixty-nine. I wasn't sure about sucking him, but it only seemed fair. His cock was okay, but when he began to ooze precum, it became more than okay.
I was shocked. It hadn't occurred to me that the stuff that oozes from a cock would be a turn-on. I loved it, and soon discovered that the more I sucked, to more he oozed. We both came close to shooting off, and he pulled away.
"I don't want to cum now. I need a breather," he said. I was rock hard, but I am also polite. I wasn't sure if it was right to tell him that I wanted to shoot off. I was on my back with my cock in the air. Buster looked at me and smiled. A second or two later he had straddled me and sat on my cock. I later found out he had already lubricated his ass.
My cock slid into him easily. His ass was tight, warm and welcoming. It was wonderful. Buster moaned and began to rotate is ass, sort of like a Hula dance. That was good for me, but he moaned even more.
When I am hard my cock has a pronounced curve toward my navel. Buster told me that it made a direct hit on his prostate and sent him to the moon. A minute later he began to shoot off splattering me with globs of sperm. His ass twitched with each ejaculation and that pulled my trigger. I shot off in his ass.
Buster's ejaculations had diminished, but my cum spurting into his ass got him going again. He has three more ejaculations. He then got off my cock and licked up the sperm coating my chest and gut. He then asked me to work a finger into his ass. His ass was juicy. When I pulled my finger out, he licked my sperm from it. I knew I was inexperienced, but I hadn't realized that Buster was so experienced. It was clear to me that Buster's virgin days were long in the past. Buster told me that he was experienced, imaginative and enthusiastic. We showered again and went back to the observatory. His filming was over.
Buster called me two days later. "How are you doing? Are you okay?" He asked.
"I am fine," I replied. "Why are you worried?"
"I know you are new to the gay scene, but I got carried away, and let's say I skipped the introductory classes and moved on to post graduate studies," he said. "It was good for me, but I wasn't sure it was as good for you? I hope you weren't turned off."
"Not at all. You surprised me, but it was good. I didn't expect anything like that," I said.
"I suspected you liked it, but I wanted to be sure. Shooting off in a guy's ass is usually a good sign," Buster said. "I would like to do it again. Are you game?" I told him I was willing. I should have told him that I was more than willing, but I was embarrassed. This was all new to me and I wasn't sure I should tell him that, but that seemed that I was letting him know too much about me. I am reserved and private.
I called Buster the next day an apologized to him. I told him how much I had enjoyed it and I didn't want to sound standoffish.
"John, I know you are an astronomer not a biologist, but it hard for a naked guy to hide his excitement in a sexual situation. Your cock does all the talking you need," Buster said.
"I know that but it seemed crude," I replied.
"I am afraid that your body isn't interested in politeness. Sex was a basic part of life well before gentility was invented," Buster said. "Sex isn't an intellectual pursuit. You enjoy it; you don't think it out! You may be uneasy, but luckily your cock isn't. Your cock knows when to get hard, when to start oozing precum and then when to shoot off. it knows best and if you let it do what is natural, it will have a good time, and you will have a good time too."
While my intellectual tendencies wanted to reject that statement, I knew it was right. I needed to go with the flow. I laughed to myself. I had used the "go with the flow" cliché many times before, but never literally as the flow of precum and sperm.
The observatory had a public day later that week. The public could look at stars for a few hours on the first Thursday of the month. We only had a half-dozen visitors since there was rain in the forecast. After a half-hour the rain came. One guy lingered after the rest left. He introduced himself as Jerry Wallace. He had seen Buster's photos and was interested.
He was enthusiastic about astronomy, but not knowledgeable. He let it slip that he knew Buster. I must have done a doubletake.
"Buster and I aren't close friends, but we have had some fun together. He mentioned we might share some common interests." Jerry said.
"Astronomy?" I asked.
"To be direct, I think our interest might be more related to anatomy," he said. "He said you were a nice guy, but there was one part of your anatomy I would like a lot. You can tell me to leave if I am out of line." Jerry was about 5-7, well-built and well groomed. He was good looking, but not exceptionally so.
"Well, this is a surprise," I said. "I really don't know what to say."
"Let me level with you. I am a size queen, or more correctly I want to be a size queen. Buster told me you were big and I would like to try it on for size. Buster told me it was a tight fit at first, but it was great when he sat on it," Jerry said. By that time, he had a bulge in his pants.
"Boy, you are forward!" I exclaimed.
"I'm an advertising agent, being forward is my life, I'm sorry if I offended you," he said. I was hard by then and he could tell. "I don't know if I can take it, but I would like to try. I am actually a nice guy, who just has a quirk," he added. I wasn't sure about it, but we went to the apartment and showered.
From the way he talked to me, I assumed his approach to sex direct and fast. In the bedroom he was slow, considerate and clearly had master's degree in gay sex. He treated my cock as a musical instrument and he could play a symphony on it.
My cock was oversized for his ass but I took my time and got every inch in him. As I went deeper, he became more enthusiastic. He went wild when my pubic hair touched his ass. I discovered that he had a nearly prehensile ass. The sex was wild, but short. It turns out that an excited cock shoots off quickly. Wild times are self-limiting. Before he went home he asked if we could get together again. I said yes.
The rainy period lasted for five days, so I was at home, not at the Observatory. Buster called me and asked me over for dinner. I expected take-out pizza and beer, but Buster was a good cook. I assumed this was a prelude to sex. That eventually was the case, but he also wanted to know more about astronomy and photographing celestial events.
His photographs of the comet had been successful and he saw them as his ticket way to get out of his job as a local news photographer and move on to a better career. Buster told me that he had been one of those guys who was too smart to go to college. He needed to know more about science so that he could understand what scientists wanted for illustration of their work. We discussed his options and I told him I would see if anything could be done at the College.
We were in his bed after that discussion. Buster told me to relax and admit that I liked gay sex. I said that would be difficult.
"Why don't you just pretend you are gay and see it that works?" Buster suggested. Strangely enough, that worked. Sucking a cock had been all but unthinkable to me. I had done it and enjoyed it, but I was still uneasy. I finally admitted I had intensely enjoyed it, and that was fine.
Buster's cock turned into a magic wand. Instead of fairy dust it drooled pure sex juices. this time he didn't sit on my cock, I fucked him. when he sat on it, I was just an organic dildo. I must have stretched him, because he reacted to every movement and thrust. I shot off and them took his load. It was the food of the gods.
After an hour or so, I went home. Just before I left, Butch mentioned that Jerry had enjoyed his visit.
"Is that a problem for you?" I asked.
Burch smiled. "If I told you I don't mind being part of a harem if the cock is big enough, would you be shocked?" he asked.
"I doubt it," I replied.