Carter's Lake

Published on Apr 8, 2020

Gay

Carter's Lake 3

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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Carl and Bruce connected. I was soon sucking Ted as Bob took care of my cock. Ted was a daddy and Bob was his boy. Ted was a big man who reminded me of Bluto in the Popeye cartoons. He seemed to have Bluto's personality. I eventually realized his Bluto personality was modified by his perpetual state of sexual arousal. I think the technical term for this was horny bastard.

Luckily the continuous level of sexual arousal, left him willing and available. If it was sex, he would try it. I sucked him and he rewarded me with a mouthful of warm cum, straight from his balls. That is when I discovered Ted's other good sexual characteristic. After the orgasm he crashed and fell into a deep sleep.

I was alone with Bob. Bob was an average man with an above average body and a near perfect cock. he was shy, but after Ted fell asleep, he asked me if I ever bottomed.

"You would like to fuck me?" I asked.

He nodded. "Ted has fucked me regularly, but I've never topped," he said in a whisper. "I would like to try it sometime."

"You've never done it with Bruce?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I loved what we did, but looking back it was kindergarten sex," he said. "It was fun, and we loved it, but it wasn't heavy-duty."

I smiled. "I hate to say this, but I've never said no to sex. What position would you like for the first time? My ass is yours," I said.

Bob was rock hard and wanted to fuck me doggy style. His well lubricated cock was a good fit for my ass. It took him a little while to pop through my sphincter, but it was good. After a few minutes, I got on my back, spread my ass and rested my legs on his shoulders. I was wide open. I was a little afraid I was too open, but from Bob's reaction I think I just open enough.

Bob had ten minutes and then picked up the pace until he shot off. Bob told me that he had never seeded a man before. He loved it.

Ted had woken up by then. He came over to me. He lifted and spread my legs.

"Some of Bobby's load is leaking out. Do mind if I push it back in?" he asked. I told him that would be fine.

Since I was well lubricated and seeded, he had no problem. I think he had been three-quarters hard. He popped in and when he passed my sphincter and went deep, he was fully erect.

"Oh baby, this is good," he moaned. It was good for me too. Ted was well hung, thick and long. My ass was filled.

He leaned over and whispered, "I haven't been this hard in years. I can't tell if it is your ass or Bobby's cum that got me going. I've got to shoot bad. Is that okay with you?" Before I had a chance to say I was okay, he was shooting. I gave him points for being polite. I knew cocks can be unpredictable.

He pulled out and went to Bob. Carl came to me and lifted my legs again. I was expecting his cock, but he was nice enough to lick up his cum dripping from my ass.

"Relax and just let it flow," Carl said.

After about five minutes, Carl asked, "Do you mind if I take a poke?" Carl asked. "I kind of get excited when I see a used ass."

I said that was fine. Carl had been Ted's partner and bottom. Since my ass was already well used, Carl gently entered me and massaged rectum. I felt like one of the guys in porn videos who believes a masseur when he tells him a rectal massage is part of the service. I was surprised when Carl gentle probing made him shoot off. That inspired me to shoot. I was even more surprised when Ted and Bob licked up the sperm sprayed over my torso.

It was getting near dawn and they had to get back to work. They dressed in their clean clothes and got on their way. I couldn't decide if I had done a good deed or had turned into a slut. I thought they might come back that evening, but they went to their homes. Other crews had come to help with the repairs.

Bruce called me that evening and asked how things went. It told him all went well. He said that he had talked with Bob. Bob told him that things had gone very well. He explained that Ted, Bob and Karl were trained to enter disaster areas first, when things were most dangerous. They dealt with live wires and damaged equipment. They were to make the area safe enough for standard crews.

"They sure were friendly," I said.

"They like to pick unmarried men for that sort of duty. "They try to keep younger men with families out of the dangerous duties," he explained.

I told my parents to stay at the cottage until things returned to normal in town. My father wanted to return to help, but my mother was a problem. She liked things to be orderly and calm. Dad called many of his older customers and commiserated with them on the damage. He told them all that he had selected one of his best associates to deal with their claims. He called his agents and told them of each of his clients' oddities and quirks. Forewarned is forearmed. That was a most successful approach. They returned to town in September as I went back to teaching school.

Mrs. Powell, the bad teacher I substituted for, was replaced with a recently graduated teacher, Malcomb Dennis. Teaching the more problematic classes was a trial for a new teacher. Malcomb was a tall gawky man with stunningly thick glasses. He was not physically impressive. I told him of my approach to the class.

I am 10 or 12 years older than Malcomb, and while he was academically excellent, he had no knowledge of the sort of students he was dealing with. I gave him my lesson plans and helpful hints. Malcomb was more than willing to take any help he could get. He was lucky. Malcomb was a visitor from another planet as far as his students could tell.

He also had an odd skill. He was into magic, slight of hand and card game tricks. He could have been a superb pick pocket. He also played tennis. When someone launched a spitball at him, he could whack it back into their face. This was a skill even the densest students could admire.

He found an apartment in a former garage behind Micky the Man's house. Micky had built a huge garage when times were flush and now could use income from renting the older garage.

Malcomb like to swim and asked Micky if there was anywhere to swim nearby. Micky told him about the country club which was private. Eventually he mentioned Carter's Lake. He explained it was traditionally skinny dipping. On an unusually warm Sunday morning in early October Macomb went searching for the lake. He found it. I was swimming. I saw him and he saw me. I am pretty sure if I hadn't seen him, he would have slipped away. I said hello and he reciprocated. I got out of the water and wrapped up in a towel.

Malcomb told me Micky had told him about it and that he liked to swim. "I've never skinny dipped before," he added.

"I hadn't either, but when in Rome do as the Romans do," I said. "I met Mickey here. I'm a local and he was hot stuff when I was a teenager. For your information, there is a good chance that anyone you run into here likes to skinny dip. Most of them are older guys. The younger ones are at home in their basement's playing computer games."

"The water is still warm. It's ideal for swimming," I added. I returned to the water and a few minutes later I heard him get in. Malcomb was a good swimmer. He must have been in better shape than I had guessed. We had an informal race which he won easily.

When we got out, I saw his cock. He was tall and thin; his cock was long too. I forgot to pretend I wasn't looking at it. Malcomb noticed.

"You may not know it, but in the local parlance you cock is what they call a "keeper," I said.

"The kids in grade school said it was too big. They called it the snake," he murmured.

I laughed. "That is what is called jealousy not perception," I said. "A cock that size is a source of pride not an embarrassment."

Of course, nature took it course and both of our cocks began to get firm. "I'm not into snakes, but I might make an exception," I remarked. That wasn't an original comment, but I hoped it might get the ball rolling.

"It's strange to be talking with a naked man," Malcomb said.

"It had seemed strange to me at first. To be truthful, it seemed odd and a little exciting," I added. "I met one guy here who had been a jock. He was more comfortable with naked men that I was. Getting naked and showering together isn't an English major's thing."

Malcomb laughed. "Whispering about the sexual lives of great writers isn't the same as a hot shower with the boys was it?"

"Well we all have Walt Whitman to be our guide. I don't seem to like modern gay literature. It is too introspective for my tastes," I said. We were both getting harder.

"I don't know if I am into sex much," Malcomb said. "I am not at all experienced, but nothing I've done had been very successful."

"Malcomb, I don't want to offend you, but I suspect you are not doing it right," I said. "I think I am still an amateur, but for most guys, your cock points the way. Let your cock be your guide."

Malcomb smiled and said, "Well I can tell you have not been too introspective! Are you serious?"

"I can't give you a definite yes and no answer to that question. I can tell you that impressive feats of literary scholarship are not particularly helpful in your sex life. Sex is physical and emotional, not academic or scientific. It is the basis of all advanced life on earth. It worked its magic before proto-human beings could talk or write. It is very human, but not so academic," I pontificated.

"It seems so animal," Malcomb remarked.

"As far as we know animal is the capstone of evolution. I'm not sure there are any dissertations by amoebas or bacterial scum," I said. "I am pretty sure, that human sex is vastly more pleasurable than single cell division." Malcomb was close to being fully erect.

"Just think of your cock as a magic wand, not a drain for your piss," I said as I stroked his cock. Malcomb moaned. I bent over and sucked his strawberry sized cock head. He moaned again.

"Don't do that," he whispered. I licked his knob again and he moaned again.

"Malcomb, I'll make a deal with you. I'll stop sucking when you stop moaning," I said.

"Please don't stop," he whispered. I continued sucking and he got into it. I could tell he relaxed once I got used to me.

He tensed up. "I'm afraid I'm going to shoot," he said.

"Has anyone taken your load before?" I asked. He said no.

"Well Mr. Malcomb Dennis PhD, would you allow me the honor to be the first person to taste and eat your procreative fluids?" I asked as I returned to his cock. Malcomb didn't exactly say yes, but his cock and balls answered by flooding my mouth with his rich and creamy sperm.

"Now Malcomb, I'm going to continue sucking until you are fully drained. I have a taste for post-orgasmic drool," I said.

We rested for ten minutes or so when he asked me if he had to suck my cock. I said no. He needed to want to suck me. It wasn't a requirement.

"I'm not sure I could do that," he said.

"If I were you, I wouldn't bet the farm on that," I said. We got dressed and we went to our respective homes. Of course, we saw each other in school. In the teachers' lounge we had a talk about one of his problem students. I had taught the kid's older brother and told him he needed to call the boy's guardian, the kids Grandmother. Three days later that solved the problem.

Malcomb was perceptive. He sent the kid to the school nurse who checked his eyesight. That was the real problem. There was no way is grandmother could afford glasses, so I called Coach Dewing. He knew who would help. Glasses seemed to solve the boy's academic problem.

One day in November I went to school and found it had lost electricity. There had been a leak in the electrical service room and the resulting explosion blacked out the school. It would take a day or two to fix. We had to corral the students until the buses took them home. It was a cold, drizzly day and Malcomb hadn't dressed to spend two hours herding students back to the busses.

I asked him to have some breakfast at my house. He needed a warm place. I told him there was a warm bathrobe in my bedroom; I would put his wet clothes in the dryer.

I produced scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast. Apparently, that was a gourmet feast for him. We talked. I told him I hiked around Carter's Lake regularly but hadn't gone in the water since he had been there.

"I think about the lake a lot," he said. "I've had a few experiences with men. To tell you the truth, I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. The best guys I had been with were only sort of okay. After being with you I understood the attraction."

"Have you found any local guys?" I asked.

"I don't know where to look and I don't know how to get the ball rolling. I'm not exactly a dream boat," he said.

"I have noted that generally dreamboats are in short supply," I said. "I hope your balls have been refilled since our adventure at the lake?"

Malcomb nodded. "I think about our adventure at the lake all the time," he said. "Are you interested in me or my cock?"

"Malcomb, you and your cock aren't separate things. I think Victorian prudes may have thought your cock was the dirty part of men, but it's not only attached to your body; it's hard wired to your brain," I explained. "I can also tell you that for a gay man, it's an attraction. Let me tell you something embarrassing about myself. You are intelligent, a good teacher and a nice guy. An intelligent, nice guy is not the same thing as a horse hung nice guy."

"You like the horse hung part of me?" he asked.

"I like all of you, but let's say your cock is the icing on the cake?" I replied. "Maybe I should say the cream filling of an éclair."

Malcomb smiled. "I guess that better than the filling of a Twinkie," he observed. "Is there any chance we could get naked and see what happens?"

"I think there is a good chance of showers today," I said as we went to the bedroom.

He was already hard. I was almost half-hard by the time I was naked. A second later my cock head was in Malcomb's mouth. He just wrapped his lips around my knob. In another second, his tongue was caressing it. A minute later his tongue licked the slit. He looked up at me and said, "it's good."

We got on the bed and sixty-nined. I couldn't deep throat his cock, but he had no trouble with mine. I soon realized he was milking my cock for precum. This went on for ten or fifteen minutes. We broke apart and I coated his cock with lube.

"Did I mention you can feel really close to a guy during sex?" I said as I straddled his cock. I sat back on it. It slipped past my sphincter and went deep.

"Wow," he moaned.

"I'm going to bounce a little," I explained.

"I don't think I can hold back for long," Malcomb whispered. "I'm going to pop."

"Did I mention that is why we are here?" I asked. "You are free to give my ass a sperm bath at any time." Malcomb held back for longer than I expected. He was visiting unexplored areas in my ass. The base of his cock was thicker than I thought, and every time I took the entire tool, it rubbed my prostate. He began to squirt when I was fully impaled. My prostate felt his cock twitching and I shot off too spraying his gut and chest. It was almost as if each volley he shot into my ass spurted out from my cock across his torso. Co-ordinating orgasms is a rare occurrence, and we did it perfectly.

I dismounted from his cock and we rested on the bed. I almost fell asleep. But I glanced at his cock and saw he was still hard. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"I've never been better. It was so warm and tight in you. It was as if my cock belonged in your ass. You shivered and twitched as I shot off. Could you feel me unloading? Is it always this good?" he asked.

"It certainly was what I was hoping for," I said. "You're still hard. Do you think your cock could massage my ass?" I was on my back, so he lifted my legs and eased his cock back into me. He moaned in pleasure.

"It's so intimate. Are you embarrassed that a guy you hardly know is fucking you?" he asked.

"Have you ever shared an orgasm before? I knew you were uneasy, but I could feel your cock taking control and you were getting excited. I felt you lose it and then filling me with your semen. It was about as intimate as is possible. I loved it," I said. He lasted ten minutes this time.

Next: Chapter 4


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