Best Sex Ever

Best Sex Ever 7 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

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When I lost the election, I lost my wife too. I was a nice, conservative Republican in a nice conservative district. I was popular and had won my previous elevation by 20%. I was blindsided by a Tea Party candidate, Nathan Wills, who appeared out of nowhere and won the caucuses. He was one of the tinfoil-hat type guys. He was worried about black helicopters, invasion by Cuban mercenaries and the immanent conquest of American by Muslim Dervishes.

I didn't think he had a chance. No one else thought that either. The Caucuses that selected him had an average attendance of twenty. The total tally was 215 to 136 in his favor. He lost the election by 30% but I was out. I also became the butt of late night jokes on the television. Most were of the "Do you believe that a ten-term congressman, Ronald Rooney, lost to Bozo the clown?" sort. My opponent was bald and had frizzy red hair.

I endorsed the Democratic candidate in the election. There was no way Nathan could do anything but humiliate the district. I don't regret the decision, but the Republican press all but publicly lynched me. I was a traitor and a liberal tool. When Nathan lost 30%to 70%, it was clear that less than half the Republicans in the district voted for him.

I guess you could say my wife and I had a correct relationship. We had four children. She was a good mother; I was a busy politician. I missed the fact that she had lost all affection for me, and once the kids were grown, she wanted to have a life of her own. I was not a part of that life. We were well off, but most of my assets were in her name. She didn't ask for anything in the divorce settlement. She already owned it all.

I lost the election in the middle of the recession. My old law firm had no need to hire an additional, high-paid lawyer. Getting a job was a problem. I was too well known and too expensive. I had last done legal work 20 years earlier; I had been out of the day-to-day work. I was up the creek and found a job teaching history and civics at a high school. I tried to make that sound good by saying I was going back to basics and working with children, America's future citizens. No one fell for that.

There was one good thing. I had a drinking problem when I was younger. I overcame it and when things fell apart, I kept away from booze. Being a washed-up failed politician was bad enough, but being a drunken washed up politician was much worse. While I technically lived in my district, I had spent most of my time in Washington. I really didn't know many people well. I soon discovered that a former politician has few friends.

I found a one-bedroom apartment in an old house. The house looked good form the outside and it didn't look like an apartment. There other tenants were a retired and sickly couple, a teacher at the Community College and an auto mechanic. None seemed very talkative.

The community college teacher, Barton Wills, was civil, but way to the left of me politically. He liked to argue. I don't mind a little debate but daily was a bit much. He was barely 30 and a know it all.

I got use to teaching at school. It was easy enough to do, but the culture shock from the congress in Washington to 19 year olds was difficult. I didn't know what they were talking about. The Christmas break was hard. My wife remarried four months after the divorce. My kids had moved away. They weren't happy with the stepfather and decided it was best to avoid both of us. I was alone.

Three days before Christmas, a drunk driver rammed Barton's car running a red light. I saw the accident and called 911. The drunk was unaware anything happened. That took some doing, since he was strapped by his seatbelt upside down in his car. He was unhurt.

Barton was definitely hurt; his leg was broken and was trapped in the crushed metal of his car. The EMT's and the cops assumed I was his father. I tried to be helpful. Barton was calm, but in considerable pain. Calm was nice since the drunk had began to howl at the moon. I was worried Barton's calm may have been shock. That bothered the EMTs too.

He had his cell phone, so I called his closest friend and an Uncle. Barton's father was dead and his mother was in a home. He was the late child of almost elderly parents. The Uncle was on the other side of the state, but said he would come over immediately. His friend was with his family in New York City.

I went to the hospital with him. It didn't seem right to leave him alone. I called the Community college but no one was there. December 22 is a bad day to find any one. The doctors wanted me to stay. I thought that was odd. A doctor explained that the leg was in poor shape, and amputation was a possibility. They wanted me as a witness. They were afraid Barton might not remember what they said to him and they wanted me to confirm that they gave him all the information.

I think Barton knew how bad things were. I asked some questions to clarify the situation and to make sure Barton understood. I finally asked if amputation was a possibility. Barton looked shocked, but he adjusted well. The doctors explained this carefully. Barton signed the release and went into the operating room. It was a five-hour operation. I felt horrible about the whole thing, but when he emerged, Barton still had both legs.

Barton's Uncle got there at 7:00. Barton was slim and almost fragile looking; his Uncle was what use to be called a bruiser. He was a retired truck driver and looked as if he could push the truck to its destination if he needed too. He went to see Barton. He came back a half hour later. Barton was in intensive care and they had sedated him. They very much did not want visitors. He needed to rest.

I said I was going home and asked if Uncle Gus wanted to get a bit to eat. He said yes and we went to an Italian Restaurant. Gus was Italian and immediately made friends with the restaurant owner. We got special everything. I told Gus the entire story. Gus looked like the missing link, but he understood the severity of the injuries. We also had a good dinner.

I got a call on my cell. It was the hospital. They had my number for emergencies. Barton was going into the operating room again; he was hemorrhaging. We went back to the hospital. There was another tense hour and a half before the surgeon came out. They had stopped the bleeding. Gus wanted to stay, but the surgeon said Barton was knocked out and he would need someone the next morning. "I'm going to spend the night here just in case we have another problem," the doctor said. "Get some rest and be here at 7:00."

I took Gus to the apartment. I had what I thought were Barton's keys. They weren't so I asked Gus to stay at my apartment. My plan was to give him the bed and I would take the couch, but he wouldn't have that. We had a few beers and I went to bed.

The bathroom was entered through my bedroom, but Gus was apparently very quiet. I never heard him. I woke up at six, took a shower, dressed and made breakfast. Gus took a shower while I cooked. He returned to the living room, still drying himself off. He was naked, very naked.

I remembered an old art history class in college. Naked was to be exposed and without clothes; nude was to be without clothes, but unashamed. Gus was nude. He was hairy, muscular and unashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about.

We had a quick breakfast and went to the hospital. Gus asked me to come along since I knew the locals. Three doctors went over the medical situation. Barton had done well since the second operation. There were some internal injuries and a serious concussion in addition to the shattered leg. They thought he would be in the hospital for a week and then have a long rehab period. It was a good conference. Gus went to see Barton, and I went home.

Gus appeared at noon with the correct key to Barton's apartment. I had never been in it. The apartment was small and full. I had assumed it had a separate bedroom, but it was a studio, and most of the room was filled with books and a desk. Barton was writing a book. He apparent ate at his desk. The bath had only an undersized tub.

I looked at the small room. Gus looked at the room. "Gus, I don't think you're going to fit!" I said. Gus burst out laughing. I looked at the desk. Papers covered it, and after a quick perusal, I realized they were Barton's notes and they were in order.

"Well, you can stay with me for a while," I said. Gus said he didn't want to be a bother. I said it was fine with me. A little company at Christmas might be nice. That settled that. We were in an area that had poor cell service for Gus' carrier. He used my phone to contact Barton's mother. That was a difficult call. I soon realized she had trouble understanding. He went off the store to get some things. He had literally jumped in the car as soon as I told him about the accident.

I received a call from a nurse at Barton's mother's home just after he left. His mother seemed to think he was dead, or perhaps Gus was dead. I explained the situation. The nurse said they would do what they could for her but, "she was slipping badly."

It was a quiet afternoon. Gus went going to the hospital for the rest of the afternoon. I turned on the television and then realized tomorrow was Christmas Eve. I thought I should do something, but Christmas was my wife's obsession. She and the kids did all the decorating. If I had focused more, I would have understood that I had become a guest at my own family celebrations. I fell asleep on the couch.

I had a strange dream. It concerned Gus, the very naked Gus I had seen that morning. I remembered thinking how odd it was to be talking with a naked man. At some point in the dream, I stopped talking with him and began talking with his cock. Gus was uncut and his foreskin formed lips. We carried on a nice conversation. That came to an end when I tried to kiss his cock. I woke up with a jolt.

I was shocked by the dream. It was fantastical in nature, but had seemed natural and ordinary. I tried to get it out of my mind, but that didn't happen. I wanted to see him naked again, but most of all, I wanted to see his cock most.

Gus wanted to spend all of his time at the hospital, but the doctors wanted Barton to rest. He was beginning to heal, but every movement was painful and anything-resembling excitement hurt. Gus called to say he was coming back to my apartment. The auto-mechanic who lived in the building knocked on my door to find out what happened.

Skeeter looked liked something the cat dragged in, but he worked for the best repair shop in town. He was the shop manager. He knew more about the accident than I did. The mechanic's telegraph is very efficient. The drunk was the son of a prominent family that was "richer than God," according to Skeeter. He was now in a sanitarium taking the cure. The drunk's father was a total asshole, but his mother was a good woman. Skeeter thought the family's money came from her, not her husband. He had heard they wanted to settle.

Gus came back at 6:30 and we went to dinner with Skeeter. In Skeeter's defense, he made a serious, if somewhat ineffectual, effort to clean up. Gus made friends easily. By now, he knew all the nurses, doctors, and he soon got along well with Skeeter. Barton's situation was still serious and there was a long haul ahead. His insurance was not all it should have been.

I had a strange vibe at dinner. I had the impression that Skeeter liked Gus a lot. Even stranger, I seemed to have the same feelings. This was odd since I wasn't particularly sexually driven and had never been excited by a man before.

When we got back to the apartment and Skeeter asked us up to his apartment for a beer. His apartment was nice. Furnished in antiques, it was beautiful. "You have nice stuff," I said.

"I like restoring things," Skeeter said. He went to get the beer. Gus called into the hospital. Barton had a problem, so he went off, leaving me with Skeeter. I don't get to talk with auto mechanics much, other that asking them what was wrong with my car. Skeeter knew a lot about antiques and furniture. The also had a beautiful Christmas tree with antique ornaments. There wasn't much reading material in the apartment except for some wrestling magazines and copies of the Advocate Magazine. That surprised me.

"Are you and Gus old friends?" he asked.

"Not at all, we just met at the hospital yesterday," I said.

"You act like friends," Skeeter said. "You get along like a couple. He's a good looking man, if you like your men manly."

"Well, I'm not into that," I said.

"That's not the way it looks to me, but suit yourself," he said. "I hope I haven't insulted you. I have great Gaydar. Do you want another beer?"

"Sure, that would be good," I replied.

When he returned with the beer, I was at the tree. "I remember most of these ornaments from when I was a child," I said.

"I was lucky. My Grandma saved everything. It was all in the attic of her house when she died, Skeeter said. "My brothers and sisters like the new stuff."

"My ex wife has everything I had," I said. "Your tree is beautiful. Every old ornament I had was damaged."

"I know I'm a grease monkey, but I'm very meticulous. I can take an engine apart and put it back together because I put everything in the right place," Skeeter said. "I do the same with the decorations. Everyone is wrapped and fits into the box just right."

I finished the beer, and went back to my apartment. I was a little insulted at his insinuations, but I eventually realized Skeeter knew something about me that I didn't know. Gus was attractive.

Someone knocked on my door. It was Skeeter. "I found your billfold in my couch," he said. "I figured it's better return it now than give you a fit tomorrow."

"Thank you!" I said. "That would have put a crimp in Christmas Eve. I'd offer you eggnog, but I don't have any. How about some bourbon? I have a new bottle of Wild Turkey." He came in.

We sat down. "I assume you are gay?" I said.

"Shit no!" he replied emphatically. "I just like sex with men."

I laughed. "Isn't that the same?"

"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. I guess I don't mind fems, but I'm not into that," Skeeter said. "I want to screw around with a real man, not a florist."

"I'm not gay either, but I admit, Gus is attractive," I said. "Are you gay if you are attracted to a single man?"

"I'd need to look that up in the official by–laws of the of the National Gay Men's Association," he said. "My guess is that it would be classified as a start!"

I laughed. "Well it's all a moot point since Gus gives no signs of being gay."

"I don't want to shock you again, but he's a member of the Union," Skeeter said.

"How in hell do you know that?"

"Well, when you went off to the men's room, we exchanged the secret handshake," Skeeter said, "It was all under the table but he is gay and he's well hung to boot!"

"I knew the well hung part already," I said. Skeeter smiled. We talked a little longer and Skeeter went back to his apartment. I went to bed. When I woke the next morning, Gus was sound asleep on the couch.

The apartment was normally warm, but this Christmas season was warmer than usual and the apartment was hot. Gus was wearing only boxers and his cock had escaped and was on view. I made coffee, but my eyes seemed to return to the view of his meaty organ. I'm cut and his uncut meat looked impressive.

I went back to my room and took a shower as the coffee maker worked its magic. I dried off in my bedroom and went into the other room to see if he was awake. I had the towel around my waist, but it wouldn't stay so I put the towel around my neck.

I poured a cup and he sat up. "Nice scenery," he said. He sat up.

"You are putting on a nice display yourself," I said. He looked at his crotch and saw his cock was hanging out.

"Oops!" he said as he covered up.

"I wasn't complaining," I said. There was a quiet knocking on the door. It was Skeeter with a coffeecake.

"My mom sent this to me. I thought you might like to share," he said. I was naked and Gus wore only boxers. "It is hot in here," he remarked. "It seems I'm over dressed!"

"We're all boys here," Gus said. A second or two later, Skeeter was naked. We had coffee and ate the cake. It was good. Gus said they were planning to get Barton out of intensive care today. We discussed his rehab. I had no idea what was involved, but Skeeter was knowledgeable. I thought Skeeter was scrawny. Naked he was wiry; all muscle, but no bulk. Gus was muscular and bulky; I am bulky, with no muscle. No one commented.

Skeeter stood up to get another cup of coffee. He was half-hard. Gus did a double take. "Sorry about that, but I get hard when I'm with naked men," Skeeter said. Gus stood and dropped his boxers. He was half-hard too.

"I hate to be direct guys, but why don't we stop playing peek-a-boo and get down and dirty," Skeeter said.

"I'm new to this scene guys," I said. "That might be a problem."

"Just think of it as an opportunity," Gus said. "Damn you have a beauty there!" I was hard. He saw my erection. Actually, I was harder than I had been in years.

My plan was to sit back and watch. That would have worked if I hadn't dropped to my knees and tried to inhale Gus' cock. I thought that perhaps a quick lick would have gotten it out of my system. I was wrong about that.

I ooze a little precum just before I shoot off. My wife made me use a lot of K-Y. I had tasted it a few times, but it was mostly K-Y and my wife's juices. It wasn't a thrill. When my lips peeled back Gus's foreskin, I tasted the mother-load of man-juices. It was intoxicating and I couldn't get enough of it. I think I had sucked a cock once in high school on a dare. It was nothing. I didn't have a clear view of what sucking was supposed to be. I still didn't, but I had this strong desire to milk Gus and taste every drop of his ball juices.

During a brief moment of clarity, I worried that Skeeter and Gus would think I had gone crazy. They were otherwise occupied. Gus was working over Skeeter's cock with considerable vigor. We calmed down some and Gus had to go to the hospital. He asked us to save up until he got back. I had a call from Gus a half hour later. The parents of the guy who hit Barton were coming over. He asked if I could be there. He wanted legal advice.

Skeeter comments about the parents were right. The father, Robbie Miller, was a jerk and I smelled booze on his breath. He seemed to think Barton should have stayed out of his son's way. Gus did not take that well. Things were turning bad when Mrs. Miller spoke.

"Robbie, it's time for you to go home and get some coffee. I will handle things," she said. She gave him a scary look and he left.

"I realize my son was entirely at fault and that there were no extenuating circumstances," she said. There is no way to undo the accident, but I will do everything possible to help Barton."

"His insurance is poor, and college pays him by the course. Now that he is injured, I think he's essentially unemployed," Gus said.

"I will speak with the hospital and have all the bills sent to me," she said. "I will also take care of rehab and therapy. I assume his living accommodations are not handicapped accessible. I will handle that too along with living expenses," she said.

"I'm not a charity case," Barton said.

"Mr. Wills, I am not giving you charity, I am making restitution," she said. "I was living in a fool's paradise thinking that my son's problems were just boys will be boys stuff. I ignored the danger signs, and you have suffered for it. I will do everything I can to make up for my failings."

I had never met here before, but I sensed she was sincere. Gus was naturally suspicious, but he had the same feeling. She asked me to draw up a document confirming her offers. Barton said that wasn't necessary.

"A legal document is always best in this sort of situation," she said. We talked and she left. Barton was moved to a regular room a little later. A nurse appeared to help with the move. Mrs. Miller had hired him to help Barton for the next few weeks.

Barton fell asleep. Gus and I went home. Skeeter was waiting. Gus asked him about the Millers. Skeeter knew everything. She was a wealthy heiress who devoted here self to good works. She was mostly involved the art museum, but was on many boards. She was generous. Skeeter said she had married below here station. She was solid as a rock and her word was good.

Skeeter asked us up to his apartment for dinner. Things became festive quickly. Gus relaxed, his concerns for Barton's future was solved. Skeeter was a good cook and a great storyteller. He had a cheerful approach to life that was infectious. He was also affectionate and not at all ashamed of his sexual preferences. Gus was comfortable with that too.

Gus went to my apartment to call Barton's mother and wish her Merry Christmas. I was alone with Skeeter.

"When Gus gets back I was hoping we could all let our hair down a bit, if you get my drift," he said.

"It was fun this morning, but I may have had my limit of excitement for the day," I said.

"You may have guessed Gus and I are into it big time," Skeeter said. "You are new to the scene?" I nodded.

"I may be talking out of turn, but Gus likes you. He would love to get it on with you."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked. I had no idea. "He sure likes you."

"It's okay to like more than one guy," Skeeter said. "Gus is a top."

"I'm not sure about that," I said.

"I think he'd be disappointed if you didn't join us," Skeeter said. "I know some men ease into sex. I jumped in the deep end at 14, and it's been good ever since. Join us and go with the flow." He stroked my cock as he talked. That seemed to convince me. We were going at it when Gus returned.

"Shit, I didn't hear the starting gun!" he said.

"It's not a sprint, it's a marathon," Skeeter said. "You can catch up."

A few minutes later, we were all in Skeeter's shower. It was big and fancy and there was room for three, if you didn't mind being close. I was ready to launch myself at Gus' cock, but he was at mine first. I didn't expect that. I didn't expect him to be into it. I soon realized he was into my cock big time.

I bent over to suck Skeeter. His cock was long and thin. He had a pump knob. He was already oozing some. His knob tasted good and soon I swallowed the whole thing. When I pulled off, I suctioned a mouthful of precum. The rich ball cream seemed to go directly to my brain. I couldn't get enough of it. I didn't care about anything other than the two men I was with.

As I sucked up Skeeter's scuz, Gus moaned. I think my cock must have begun to leak. He liked the taste. He held me tight, but one finger strayed toward my ass. Much to my surprise, I shifted my legs to make my hole more available. I didn't want to be fucked, but apparently, my body and ass had a different opinion.

Looking back, I think both Skeeter and Gus had a much better understanding of what I wanted than I did. I had a hard time relating the conservative Republican congressman, with the sex-crazed man who wanted to have a truck driver's cock pounding his ass. I had lost my common sense and my sense of propriety. I was willing to anything Skeeter and Gus wanted.

We got out of the shower and went to Skeeter's bedroom. I had never been as sexually excited as I was. I would do anything to please them. Skeeter had told me Gus wanted to fuck me, but they didn't rush it. Skeeter was a top too. I finally had Gus on the bed with is cock in my mouth. It had been good sucking him in the morning. It was much better now. I was crazed.

Gus switched positions so he could suck me as I sucked him. I thought this would leave Skeeter out of the fun. Skeeter saw my ass was available so he rimmed me. I hadn't guessed he would do that. I also didn't realize it would feel that good. In the back of my mind, I suspected Skeeter's tongue was precursor of a harder, longer organ.

"Gus, I could open him up for you," Skeeter said. "You're a bit big for a first fuck. I understand if you want to be the first."

"You go ahead," Gus said. "I don't want to hurt him." I was going to ask if I had any say in this, but Gus oozed a huge glob of precum and I lost any desire to do anything other than coax more from his balls.

Skeeter had some lube in the bedside table. He coated his cock and nudged it into my hole. "Now you just relax and let me in," Skeeter said. He gave a running commentary on his actions. "I'm going to just ease it in. I'm thin but nice and long. It's the width that's hard to take. My knob may pinch a little, but the shaft will be easy," he continued. "I'll get the lube in deep. That will be good for Gus' monster. Just relax and let me in!"

Gus was still sucking my cock. "Skeeter, I think your cock head just vanished," Gus said.

"Are you okay?" Skeeter asked me. He gave a hard thrust and his entire cock was in me. I was winded, but a little later, I began to feel good. Skeeter must have sensed that, he began to pump his cock gently.

"You've have him going!" Gus said.

"Do you want to take a poke?" Skeeter asked. "He's nice and open."

"I'll take my time," Gus said. "There is no rush."

"He's nice and tight, I can't hold off much longer," Skeeter said.

"A little extra lube won't be a problem," Gus said. They seemed very casual, but I didn't care, with Gus' mouth on my cock and Skeeter's cock in my ass, I was floating on a sexual cloud. Skeeter maintained a steady rhythm, but he picked up his pace as nature took its course. He suddenly stopped and was still. A second or two later I felt something tickling deep in my ass. A warm feeling swept over me.

I would have thought having a man having an orgasm in my rectum would have been disturbing. The warm feeling surprised me. I'm not sure my body had ever pleased any one that much before. I know I never seemed to have pleased my wife.

Skeeter left his cock in me and let it deflate. He pulled out. Gus rolled me over onto my back and hoisted my legs on his shoulders.

"Are you ready?" he asked. I may have nodded. Gus' knob was already at my hole. Skeeter's cream lubricated the opening. Gus pushed. It would be wrong to say he fucked me. His cock occupied my ass. I knew the entire organ would eventually be in me, but he was in no rush. I also knew I had misjudged his cock. It was bigger than I had thought. He had three or four inches of it in my when I went to the moon. I now know that was when his cock rammed my prostate. I didn't know anything could feel that good. I couldn't think or reason; I could only feel.

I work up at six the next morning. Skeeter and Gus had taken turns fucking me throughout the night. When I rolled over Gus cuddled close to me, he held me tight and eased his cock into my ass one more time. It had been the best night of my entire life.

"It's strange, but I feel empty without your cock in my ass," I said. "I was incomplete before you filled me up."

Skeeter came over and dangled his cock in my face. I stuck out my tongue and tasted his cock drool.

"Do you think a cock can fall in love with an asshole?" Gus asked.

"I hope so," I answered. I felt a tickling sensation as he ejaculated. I assumed that was his answer to my question.