Best Sex Ever 5 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, any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com
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Rodney and Bluto
I was stuck with office Valentine's Day Party. I have a big house near the office and it was my turn. My office is mostly women and the day was more of an employee appreciation day. My associate, Kathy knew I wasn't too enthusiastic about the party, so I had to go out of the way to make it special. I didn't want to be labeled as a stick in the mud.
One of my neighbors had used a new caterer, Cookies & Cream for a party. They had done a nice job, with an emphasis on deserts. I knew that would be a hit with the staff. I hired them and got a good price. My firm did many receptions and the wanted to display their wares. The party was at three in the afternoon. I went home at noon and the Cookies & Cream crowd appeared at one. The owner, Lance and the chef, Bluto, were efficient and set up everything quickly. Lance was a classic flaming fag type. Bluto was an unreconstructed Neanderthal with a gift for cooking.
I had talked to Lance on the phone, didn't expect Bluto. I was a bit afraid he would scare the women of my office. I sampled some of his food. It was good; it was spectacular. It wasn't what I expected at all. I thought it would all be sickly sweet cupcakes. Everything was bit sized, but some were savory appetizers, some exotic fruit confections, and some cakes and candies. All were handmade and memorable.
The brought interesting serving platters and a stunning center piece of chocolate, strawberries and fruits. I had expected a heart with a "Be My Valentine" inscription. It was a beautiful fountain like confection of fruits, nuts and chocolates. There were boxes with the names of each employee marked with candies cookies.
Everything was a success; even the four other men in the office liked it. Lance did the serving and he toned down his flamboyant personality. Bluto was in the kitchen cooking and refilling platters.
Around four, my phone rang with an emergency robo-call. There was an ice storm headed our way. The city wanted all offices to close so employees could get home before the storm struck. I told everyone the party was over and they had better get home. The party was winding down anyway. Several offered to help me clean us, but I told them to leave now. I could take care of things. Ice storms were rare and no one wanted to be trapped in their car on the side of the road.
Lance lived an hour away, so Bluto told his to go home. He would clean up. That made sense to me. Bluto lived a mile away. Lance left and I helped Bluto. Bluto was efficient and we got the work done quickly.
We talked and Bluto was an interesting man. His real name was Jonathan Wilberforce Newell III. He had been called Bluto since he was 14 years old. He did indeed look like Bluto, Popeye's nemesis. I had assumed Lance was the creative part of the operation. He was a flamboyant gay man and I assumed he was imaginative. Lance was the front man. Bluto was a chef with a creative streak and a give for presentation too.
Bluto said he tended to scare people when they met him, so Lance took care of the public contact. He looked like the missing link, but he was well-educated and English major in college. His next-door neighbor had a small catering business that he had help with as a teenager. When her husband died, the catering became full time and Bluto continued to work there. She had retired and Bluto when out on his own. Lance had also worked for the firm.
Bluto had everything boxed up to go when we heard a terrific crash. I ran to the window and saw a police car had slid into Bluto's van. The street was shear ice. There was no traction what so ever. We went out, slipping and sliding on the ice covered sidewalks.
The policeman was okay, but his cruiser had hit the van at 45 degree directly at the front wheel. The engine was poking out the other side of the van. The axel had to have been destroyed. A police car with chains came up. The cop said the guessed the city would be buying him a new van. They took Bluto's name and said they would get back as soon as them could. There was something like 250 accidents already and more calls were coming in every minute. They were a off to a school bus that was in a creek.
Bluto though he would try to walk home. I said it would be better to stay with me. "You might make it home, but you also might break your neck," I said. "I'm not sure the risk is worth it."
"You're probably right about that," he said. "The van is one thing, a broken leg is another." He came in the house and made a few calls. His father hadn't been able to reach him and had been planning to go out looking. Bluto nipped that bad idea in the bud. He called Lance who had made it home without incident.
The lights were flickering form time to time. Looking out the window, I saw what looked like lightening. Bluto said it was electrical transformers blowing up. I went to get out candles just in case. I had a gas stove and a gas log in the fireplace.
The lights flickered and then went out. I had the candles in my hand with matches in my pocket. My cell phone was charged and all was well. With the gas log flickering and the candles, my house looked downright romantic, sort of like a Hallmark Channel made for television movie.
If you had to trapped in a house with a man, Bluto would not have been my choice. I had no problem being trapped with a man, but my tastes ran towards the young and cute sort, not toward the Lumberjack type. Bluto did nothing for me sexually.
He was good company. I tend to be excitable, and a worrier. Bluto was steady as a rock. He was calming. I tend to think up every possible bad thing that might go wrong. Bluto though we should just deal with things as they occurred. "We have heat, food, water and light. Things are pretty good," he said. "I figure we can handle anything that comes up."
For some reason I was worried about looters. I live in a dense urban neighbor hood.
"I kind of wonder how they could get here, and if they did, how they might get away?" he said.
I laughed. "I guess you noticed, I'm not the coolest head in an emergency," I said.
"I spent some time in Iraq," Bluto said. "I'm pretty happy as long as nothing is exploding."
There was a loud explosion just as he said that. A transformer near the house blew. He laughed.
We talked and watched the ice build up on every surface outside. It was pretty, the lights were our except for battery or generator powered building. Other parts of the city had light so there was aglow in the sky around us. The streets were entirely empty except for some kids who were sliding on the ice. It almost looked like ice-skating.
The conversation became freer when I opened a bottle of wine. Eventually I asked him if he and Lance were lovers.
"Lance is a good man, but we figured being business partners is enough stress without adding in sex," Bluto said. "I know a lot of gay couples who are into catering. One little lovers tiff can really turn off the clients. If you are paying top dollar for a party, you don't want any drama from the caterer. We do a lot of wedding receptions. The mother of the bride and the bride herself provide enough drama."
"We get many of our recommendations from the fathers of the bride. They appreciate us for just getting everything done on time with no fuss," Bluto added. "We have a florist and floral designer we work with too. They are competent and no fuss too."
"Do you have a partner or playmates?" I asked. I realized I had drunk too much. "I'm sorry, I have no right ask that. It's none of my business. I'm afraid my office is a bit of a hen house. The ladies go for the personal questions right off the bat."
"I have a problem, I look like I and into chains and leather, but that's not my thing," he said. "I like sex, but not with all the accessories and attitude that comes with the leather scene. I'm pretty vanilla."
"You could say the same about me. I'm an accountant, and I didn't go into accounting because I loved adventure and excitement," I said. "I also tend to like pretty young things. They tend to be brainless and flighty. They and I get bored quickly. Pale and pretty things lose interest. I'm not into clubs and partying. They can find more excitement elsewhere."
"Some guys think careering is a nice, fun job," Bluto said. "It is nice and fun, if you like hard work. The hard work is a problem. It's not a nine to five job and some people want a lot of attention. I can't give them that and keep my clients happy."
"I tend to lose my playmates during tax season," I said. "That is half my annual income. As you saw, I had 20 people working for me. I can't take a week off for a lovers delight cruise. They don't understand deadlines. This party is the only time off until April 15. I'm getting older now. I can't attract the young ones."
"Shit, I looked like I was forty at sixteen!" Bluto said. "I was hairy as an ape and balding by then. I wasn't a teen agers dream. No one ever said anything to my face, but people made room for me when I walked down the hall at school."
"You scared them?"
"Some I scared, but I think a few thought they might catch something!" he said. I laughed.
"Did you scare them in the locker room?"
"Not as much as I would have thought. Many beefy men like me have short stubby cocks. I have a big one. Guys may have been a bit scared of me, but they liked to look," he said. "They still like to look, but I love to top. Not all lookers are into having me stretch their ass. I tell them I'm a nice guy and I take my time, but I look like Bluto. Most don't believe me."
We were looking out my front window when there was another huge boom. Another part of the city went dark.
"It would be a good day to own a "Transformers R Us" store," Bluto remarked. I laughed. He looked like the missing link, but had a sense of humor. We ate some of the party leftovers and drank a little more wine. I was feeling mellow.
"Did you find someone who likes your cock in his ass?" I asked.
"I did when I was in the army. I had a best buddy, Ronnie. He was had my back, I had his. We got it on after getting drunk one night. He could take it and he loved it. After a few tries, we discovered we didn't need to be drunk to like it. Ronnie died in a bombing," Bluto said.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"That is history now," Bluto said. "Do you have any attachments now?"
"No one now, you could say I am between engagements." the house was cooling down, but the room we were in was warm. The gas log worked its magic. I dozed off. When I woke, Bluto was sitting on the couch. For some reason he looked attractive. The flickering light of gas log gave him a glow. I was also horny as shit. I wanted sex and Bluto was the only one available.
I sat next to him. He looked at me. "I was hoping you are as horny as I am," he said,
"How did you know that?"
"It's a special gift," he said. He began to remove his shirt. I assumed he was hairy. To say Bluto was hairy is like saying Bill Gates was wealthy. I'm not into hairy men, but Bluto was one-step form being in a sideshow at the circus. I was curious. I started to strip. He liked what he saw. I wasn't too sure of Bluto until he dropped his jeans. There was a huge bulge in his jockeys. I saw the bulge and he stripped off the jockeys.
He had told me he was big. It wasn't pretty. It was almost grotesquely oversized, a bloated tube of man tool, almost hiding his potato sized balls. It was almost gross. I soon discovered that almost gross and a big turn on were the same.
I like sex slow and easy. I like to ease into sex, with lots of foreplay. I launched myself at his cock and tried to swallow it. Even soft, it was hard to take the whole thing. I liked uncut cocks. While I liked cut cocks, Bluto's uncut member was a wonder. He had double the cock and triple the skin he needed. I worked my tongue into his pucker and then went searching for his knob. I tasted his ball juices before I reached his cock head. He had been excited earlier and I could taste the older ooze. I should have been shocked, but I licked it up like madman.
I encountered his slit first. It was drooling and I liked the sweet ooze. Bu now his cock was growing to meet my mouth. I would have thought it was too big to suck, but that didn't bother me at all. I had a strong gag reflex; I normally concentrate on the head. I wanted Bluto's entire organ. I couldn't take it all, but I wanted it badly.
Bluto was most appreciative. My only physical contact with his was his cock and my mouth, but I could sense he was into it. His cock got bigger and drooled more. I had never been interested in any cock juices before. I was into the sensation, not the taste of sex. I couldn't get enough of Bluto's drool.
Soon we were both on the floor in the sixty-nine position. When he started sucking me, the flow of sexually charged juices oozing for his cock increased. I wanted it all. He was good, and he matched my motions. When I tried to deep throat him, he did the same to me. There was one difference. He beard and mustache seemed to envelop my genitals in a furry cloud. His lips caressed my cock; his tongue gently massaged my shaft and cock head.
I realized he was milking me, suctioning my sex juices from my balls. I couldn't do that to his cock. It was too big to deep throat. He was enthusiastic anyway and I was content taking as much as I could. I wasn't planning anything; I was just going with the flow. I'm not sure I knew I was ready to shoot off, but he knew. Had I known, I would have pulled away. Several of my playmates had been unhappy when I started to spurt into their mouths.
That didn't bother Bluto at all. I was several ejaculations into the orgasm but the time I knew what was going on. A few seconds later, my mouth was filled with his hot and steamy semen. I didn't like the idea of taking cum at all and I had never done it, other that when I was surprised by the first few spurts. Suddenly my tongue was swimming in a sea of sperm. He cock was still spurting, and I wanted it to last. I wanted it all.
I had been afraid he had been offended; I hadn't warned his of my orgasm. The squirting cock on my mouth suggested that wasn't a problem for him. We calmed down once the ejaculations stopped, but neither of us wanted to stop sucking. There were a few more exploding transformers outside, but we were happy sucking the last remains of the orgasms.
I finally pulled away. "Bluto, you're not my type, but damn, that was good," I said.
"I don't know what happened here," he said. "I figured a blow job was a nice way to spend the evening.
It was a lot more than that, a lot more. Maybe it's chemistry. It sure wasn't love at first sight. You're a nice looking guy, but not what I usually go for."
"Does love at first orgasm exist?" I asked. We both laughed. I had an old wind up clock on the mantle. It rang out the hour; it was eight.
"We do have a long night ahead," I said. "I want to do more, but I'm a little afraid."
"You're afraid it was really as good as it seemed?" he asked. "I understand. I feel a little uneasy myself." There was another explosion nearby. "Normally I tell you I had a great time and go home. Maybe we could get together another time."
"Well, there no way you can go home," I said. "There is no way we are going to spend the night together without connecting again."
"I told you I like to fuck," he said. "Do you bottom?"
"Not really," I said. "I've topped a few times and bottomed a few times. It wasn't very good. I've never taken a cock that was close to being as big as yours is."
"I have no problem taking you," Bluto said. "I had hoped you were a size queen."
"This might sound odd, but I have a feeling I won't be satisfied unless I feel your cock in my ass," I said. "I don't want to be fucked, but I want you in me. I wanted to deep throat you, but you are too big. There is only one other place your cock would fit. I want it bad."
"Let me give you a massage," Bluto said. "We can see where that leads. You just tell me if you are uneasy or something hurts."
"How far will you go?"
"I will go as far and as deep as I can," he said. "You just need to relax and tell if I go too far."
"I'll try," I said.
"You do realize that too far is exactly where you want me to go?" he asked.
"If too far means I want all of that monster cock of yours, I do know that," I said.
I was surprised at how delicate and patient Bluto could be. He had that Attila the Hun or Neanderthal look, but we had the entire night. He massaged my back and ass, and then worked a few fingers into my ass. Once he stretched my ass wide and massaged my prostate with two fingers. When he finally nudged his cock into me, I was more than ready. When he had six inches in me, he made a hard thrust and it was all in. I could breathe, but I didn't want to breathe.
Breathing just distracted me from the overwhelming sexual sensations. Bluto was moaning. I knew he was feeling as much as I was. He was still when he first went deep, but he soon began to thrust slowly. It was more like a massage than a fuck. After a few minutes, his cock transformed my ass into a sexual playground.
We spent the rest of the night trying different positions and sleeping between orgasms. Every position was good; every penetration opened up a new world of pleasure for me and for Bluto. A month later Bluto moved in with me.