Best Sex Ever 21 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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I am Johnny Jones and have worked for Senator Goddard Smith for twenty years. I was regarded as a fixture on Capitol Hill. I was an insider, and while few knew my name, I was the go to guy for the senator. As a conservative senator from a conservative state, he was reelected every six years with little problem. He was a good-ol-boy and that played well to the audience back home. I was the member of the staff who read the newspapers for him and kept up on current events.
The Senator specialized in sounding folksy and reading press releases from the party headquarters. It was a good life for me. He told me to do and I did it. He paid me well. We were one big happy family. The only bad part of my job was dealing with his family. For years, another person took care of that, but he quit and I took over the position. I knew the family through campaign literature, but they played no role in the office.
His wife, Selma, was a former high fashion model and was now a happy housewife. That is what the campaign literature said. Reality was different. Selma went through a bottle or two of gin or vodka a day, more on weekends. The kids were rebellious, spoiled brats. Selma wasn't a good mother, but at least she remembered their names. The Senator could not do that without thinking.
The Senator had a little apartment in the city. His family lived in Scottstown, a small, rural, Virginia community. They lived apart except for publicity photos. The Senator had an arrangement with the local cops. When his wife or kids did something bad, he donated to the Police Athletic League and paid off all damages.
Disaster struck when a school nurse sent his seventeen-year-old son, Mark, to the doctor because he seemed sick. It was well-advanced cancer. I assumed the family would pull together when confronted by this disaster, but that did not happen. Selma had a breakdown. It was a total, off-to-the-hospital for a year or two breakdown. The senator did nothing.
The Senator's chief of staff put me in charge of the family. Luckily, Selma's brother, Uncle George, came to the rescue. He was a trained nurse and he came to the house to take care of the kids. Selma's family was well off and they paid George to leave his work.
The Senator hated George. I had heard of him only as Selma's fag brother. Politically having a gay relative was not a possibility for the Senator. The Washington office was none to happy with the brother, but they were more worried that someone would find out about the Senator's family. He was a big family values, Christian, prayer-in-school and traditional values man. His actual life didn't include family, Christianity, prayer or traditional values.
I was put in charge of the family. My rare visits to the family before had been either surreal or nightmarish. Looking back, they were usually surreal nightmares. When I arrived in Scottstown, the place was calm and quiet. Uncle George was at the hospital with Mark. It was his day for radiation. The fifteen-year-old daughter, Sally, who had all the makings of a slut, was doing her homework and the youngest daughter, Penny was playing with the dog.
Mrs. Washington, the housekeeper-cook, was getting dinner ready. I talked with Mrs. Washington. She said the girls were in shock. They had idolized their older brother now that he was sick and their mother institutionalized they were frightened.
We had been talking for a half hour when Uncle George and Mark returned. Uncle George may have been a fag but he looked like a marine. He was brawny, crew cut and big. He took Mark to his bedroom to rest before dinner. The girls went to keep him company.
"What are you here for?" George asked when he came in the kitchen.
"I am here to help where ever I can," I said. "Let me be frank, I have no idea what that might be."
"Are you here to set up photo ops with Goddard playing the role of the concerned father?" he asked.
"I think the plan is to show him as deeply concerned but putting the needs of his constituents ahead of his family needs," I said.
"Well, that's a relief. He likes to show up, play the role of a father and then vanish," George said. "There is a lot of murky water under the bridge."
"How is Selma doing?" I asked.
"She not doing well, but it's not hopeless," he said. "I think she would like to be a good mother, but the ratio of gin to mothering got out of whack. The doctors think she might make a go of it. They are afraid of permanent damage from the booze." The girls came in the room and the conversation turned to their schoolwork.
"None of my friends come by to see me anymore," Sally complained. "Only the nerdy girls come. I think their mothers make them."
"Have you ever heard the phrase fair weather friends?" George asked. That opened up a line of conversation between George and his niece. I was talking with Penny. I found out she was afraid she was going to be sent off to boarding school. Apparently, she had not considered the possibility that her father would take care of her.
Mark came down for dinner. He didn't want to eat anything. I had some experience with that from when my father was undergoing radiation treatment. I went off to a market and returned with watermelon and cantaloupe. That was total success and I became the hero of the moment. I told them about my father's experiences. He survived. Everyone at the hospital was upbeat, but I was a stranger and had more street cred with the kids.
It was a Friday and I was to spend the weekend "getting to know the lie of the land" according to the Chief of staff. At ten, I said I was off to find a motel.
"Why don't you bunk with me?" Uncle George asked. "I have an extra bed in the apartment over the garage." I didn't want to do that, but there was no way to say no. Mrs. Washington stayed in the maid's room in the house. She was there for the kids.
I got my overnight bag from the car and went to the garage. It was former stable that had once held a horses and a carriage. The apartment was interesting architecturally but not fancy. It was for a hired man or chauffeur. It had an ineffectual air conditioner, so it was hot.
"Would you like a beer?" George asked. "I don't drink with the kids around. It brings up too many memories." I had a beer. George took off his shirt exposing a well-tanned and hairy, barrel chest. He was in good shape, but he wasn't a gym rat.
"I hate to tell you this, but this beer is just about the only entertainment available here. Most of the locals keep to themselves," George said.
"Washington has a lot of night life, but I wouldn't know that from any personal knowledge. I am a worker bee," I said. "My strong suit is being dependable and boring."
"I assume you are here because you drew the short straw?" he said.
I smiled. "When the Senator asks, "Johnny, can you do this?" it means that no one else wanted the job." We talked for a while. George seemed to know I was gay. It was a deep dark secret in Washington, but it was obvious to him.
"I need to get to bed," he said. "You can take a shower first. The hot water is limited and I am used to cold showers."
"Thanks," I said. Out of the blue, I added, "I wouldn't mind sharing the hot water."
George smiled and said that was fine with him. I hadn't been in a group shower since college and I was excited. Fortunately, my cock stayed at rest. It firmed up a little but no so much to be too obvious. George looked good, but seemed to have more balls than cock. We showered and then dried off.
"Johnny, I'd love to give you a blow job. If that's out of order forget I said it," he whispered.
"I haven't done that in a long while," I said. "I'll tell you when I get close."
"I like the cream, don't worry," he said. I left everything up to George and he did not disappoint.
I had some friends in Washington, but they were men in my situation. We were all congressional aides working for conservative men and most of us were in the closet. Some of my best friends went back home when their senator or representative lost an election or retired. I was in a sexual slump now without anyone particularly close. One of my playmates described our sex as "code minimum." It was sex, thus it was fun but not earth shaking.
Uncle George liked sucking and he must have made a study of it. George enjoyed it and I could feel his enjoyment. George seemed to know when I was close and he would pull off and let me get in control. As soon as I did that, he returned to his sucking duties. George was good, and kept me near an orgasm. That was exciting, but I was a little uncomfortable too. I am very reserved and do not like to expose my feelings to a man I just met. You can't be reserved when your cock is spurting semen. Eventually, I needed a break, and I asked if I could suck him.
George was uncut and his cock had been up and down a few times. He was semi-hard when I started to suck him. I am not into man tastes or man smells. When my tongue poked into his skin, the taste of his bodily secretions was overwhelmed me. His foreskin had collected his precum and other sex juices and seemed to have fermented the stuff into a potent sexual brew. I went a little crazy. The right word might be frenzied.
I forgot about George and concentrated on his cock. His man tool was a magic wand that drove me crazy. For years, I had said that I wanted a relationship, not a cock. This was a cock I wanted and I did not care about George. I calmed down a few times, but when I did, George's organ began to ooze more of his sex juice.
It seemed that George's cock was exceptionally responsive. It rewarded me every time I did anything pleasurable. My most recent playmate in Washington had a cock that was more like a stick that sprung a leak. George's cock was a well-developed sex organ, a pleasure stick.
We switched around several times, and I finally climaxed. Usually that is the end of any sex for me, but George did not just take my load, he milked me. He wanted every drop in my balls. I fell asleep. When I woke, it was dawn and George was up.
"Ready for a day with the kids?" he asked. I looked at him and saw he had an erection.
"Is there any chance I can get breakfast in bed?" I asked.
"There sure is. I'm fully loaded and have a short fuse," he said. This time I did all the work and I loved it. I was excited in the way I was in college when sex was new and thrilling. I was also more experienced now and I could do things that seemed impossible when I was twenty. He indeed had a short fuse and he shot a spectacular load. I had to swallow twice. We took a quick shower and went to the house.
Mark had a bad night and was now sleeping. I had to take Penny to a dance lesson and then take Sally to see a friend in the afternoon. The dance lesson was a half-hour away so I stayed and watched. After a while, one of the mothers came over to me.
"Are you a new servant?" she asked.
"I'm Johnny Jones, one of the senator's aides. I am just helping out."
"I'm Margret Williams. Penny is in my daughter's class at school. How is Mark doing?"
"He's taking radiation therapy now," I said. "We won't know anything for months," I said. We talked and a half-hour later five or six mothers were talking with me. The senator's family seemed to have generated equal feelings of dislike and pity. Selma liked pubic scenes of drunkenness and rudeness. Mark was a wild child and Sally a threat to public morality.
There was a general question whether Selma of Mark would be the first to kill someone in an automobile accident. Mark was a love-them then leave-them man with respect to local girls and Sally was both oversexed and mean.
Everyone like Mrs. Washington, but felt she was overmatched and undercut by Selma's drunkenness and the Senator's near total lack of interest. Officially, the Senator spent weekends at home, but that was at his mountain cabin. He rarely came to Scottstown.
With the dance class over, I returned home and took Sally to see a friend. I took an immediate dislike to her friend Monica. She was with two other girls and three boys. Her parents were in Las Vegas for the week and there was a party in the works. The one of the girls and two of the boys already were drunk.
Luckily, I got a call from George. He had to take Mark to the hospital. I told Monica that Sally was needed at home. There was an emergency. Sally whined a little but she came. Sally had substantial pouting skills, but was under the mistaken belief that the silent treatment was a tool to get her way. I thought the silence was a blessing.
When I got home, Penny was near hysterical. Mark had an episode of projectile vomiting with a good deal of blood mixed in with the puke. She had seen some horror movies and vomiting terrified her. Sally seemed to like her sister and she was comforting. I helped Mrs. Washington clean up.
Oddly, no one seemed to think the event was big enough to warrant calling the Senator. Uncle George returned and said Mark was under sedation and resting. A small blood vessel had ruptured and it looked worse that it was medically. Penny was modestly relieved.
The family DVD collection was mostly horror and slasher movies. I went and bought some animated movies. Madagascar turned out to be a hit with both girls. I thought a movie with a little bit of friendship and the theme of overcoming great odds would be good. We had a calm afternoon and evening. George went to the hospital and came back saying Mark was going well.
My own family was ordinary and I associated family life with boringly conventional attitudes. The senator's family was in continual crisis and no one seemed to be in charge, or even trying to direct things. In some ways, the children would have been better off if they had be raised by wolves.
I was tired that night. Dealing with dysfunctional people is exhausting. I thought I was too tired for sex, but Uncle George wasn't tired. He was a natural leader of men and told me to relax and let him take charge. I later found out that George was always in charge.
Uncle George was always polite, gentle and considerate. He always seemed to get what he wanted. I am not much a fucker and even less of a bottom. George liked it all, but he loved to top. He told me this and asked if I would let him fuck me. I told him I was not into it much.
"Well Johnny, if you would let me in, I think I could change your attitude towards fucking," he said. I did not exactly say yes, but I didn't say no either.
"Have you ever had a guy really work you over?" he asked. "I mean, fuck you to the moon and back?"
"I like sex but it's never been like that," I replied.
"Well, fasten your seatbelts, we're going for a ride!" he exclaimed. I'm not sure you would say he fucked me. That seemed to be too crude a word. He massaged my anus with his cock from the rear as he stroked my cock.
I was expecting him to force my sphincter, but eventually I just relaxed and it slipped in. His cock seemed to ooze a lot of precum and it was easy. He then slowly pushed deeper until his cock head reached my prostate. He spent ten or fifteen minutes massaging it into an excited state. While his cock was shorter than mine is, it was a lot thicker. It seemed like a telephone pole was in my ass. It was a friendly, oozing telephone pole, but a telephone pole nonetheless. I began to rotate my ass, rubbing my prostate against the pole.
"Johnny, you are nice and open," George said. "I liked the way you let me in. My cock is a natural battering ram, and I can always force it in, but it's more pleasurable when you open wide. You can't believe how close to shooting off I have been."
"Go ahead and shoot," I gasped. "I'm ready."
"When was the last time a guy fucked you to an orgasm hands free?" he asked.
"That has never happened," I moaned.
"Let's make tonight your first," he said as he began to thrust vigorously.
"I don't think I can take that!" I cried.
"There's not much you can do about it. I'm in deep! Relax and go with the flow!" George gave me a hard thrust. I forgot to complain. Shortly thereafter I shot off, hands free. I felt him squirting into my ass as I unloaded.
When I woke the next morning, my legs were on his shoulders and his cock was fully lodged in my ass. I felt warm all over.
"I forgot to ask if you wanted to be fucked again," he said. "Are you okay with it?" I managed to nod. Ten minutes later, we shared orgasms. I went to the house and Uncle George went to the hospital to check on Mark. He came back with Mark and we all had a nice quiet breakfast. Mark went off to bed again and I had a long talk with the girls about my father's bout with cancer. I believe it is better to address the questions directly rather than sparing the children for the bad news.
Kids pretend either that nothing is happening and they are blindsided, or they make up things that are far worse than reality. My father' situation had a happy conclusion, but I pointed out that was not the only possible outcome. I think Penny and Sally didn't know what they were supposed to be doing. In my father's case, I helped when I could and stayed out of the way when I couldn't.
I had a sister who wouldn't deal with it. That caused considerable ill feeling. I took care of Dad on the weekends while my mother and younger sister took dad were he needed to be during the week. My older sister dropped by every month or two and said she was praying for Dad and then went home. If one of our aunts of uncles came to visit, she would appear and be very concerned. I took that in stride, I was use to politics in Washington. My younger sister took it badly. It caused a serious breach in our family. I think the girls understood. I had to go back to Washington after lunch.
On Monday morning, I was surprised when he senator did not ask for a report. Not even the Chief of Staff was interested. I went back to my normal work. I never thought that the Senator would give Mother Theresa any competition in the running for sainthood, but I hadn't expected him to be entirely uninterested in the fate of his only son.
I was back in Scottstown four days later. Mrs. Washington's sister died and she had to go to the funeral in Chicago. I am a good cook and I substituted for her. Mark was at the stage when the chemo and radiation were at their worse. He was in pain and had problems tolerating the painkillers. Uncle George had his hands full dealing with that.
Mrs. Rebecca Breckenridge, Selma's older sister, visited her in the sanitarium, and then brought her home for a day visit. Selma did as well as she could manage. Every time she was out of sight of the children she burst into tears, but she held it together when she was with them. She managed to act like a normal mother. Aunt Becky got along well with George. She went to the hospital with Mark and got detailed information from the doctors and nurses.
Becky took Selma back to the sanitarium and then spent three nights with the girls. I knew that Selma's family was well off. I did not know they had financed the Senator's career. George told me that Becky had married well, very well. Becky was good with the girls. She had a good sense of humor and was down to earth.
Selma had burned most of her bridges, but her family was becoming involved and wanted to reestablish a connection with the children. That was a good sign. I hardly knew the children, but it was clearly a train wreck in progress, and they were trying to help.
Becky liked me and told me she was hoping that George would settle down with a nice man. I was shocked. I had no idea that I was that obviously gay. I also thought she suspected George liked me. I knew sex with George was good, but I didn't know if it went any deeper.
Every night after playing the housekeeper for the day, I went off with George to the garage. The sex had been good on my first visit. It got better every night I was with George. We were both tired, but we were tense and keyed-up. As his cock slipped into my ass all the anxieties and worries of the day vanished.
Each of his cock's penetrations seemed to be harder, went deeper and was more pleasurable. George could do no wrong.
It may sound odd, but I felt complete when his cock was in my ass. If someone had told me that I needed a cock pumping man seed into my behind to feel complete, I would had told them they were crazy. George was always in control, but he seemed to have my interests in mind. He seemed to know what I wanted and needed.