Christmas, London 1942
By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you don't like that DON'T read it! You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual. No effort to portray safe sex practices has been made. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com.
I am Augustus Sithren, a middle aged architect of modest ability living in London. I have been called Gussy since the day I was born. I have worked on a number of important and distinguished buildings and am known a solid man. I am one of those men who stayed in the office and got the drafting work done while the more gifted met with clients and conceived the designs.
At age sixty I had assumed I would be comfortably settling into retirement, but that wasn't to be. The world wide financial collapse of the 1930 greatly affected my work. Fortunately I had married well. My wife wasn't wealthy but her inheritance kept us comfortable. We inherited her father's somewhat eccentric house. Our marriage was good, if unexciting. Our children, John and Elizabeth were unmitigated successes. My wife and I doted on them and when they married we loved our grand children.
The war through everything into confusion. John had emigrated to Canada, but Elizabeth's husband joined the army and was killed at Dunkirk. We decided to send Elizabeth and the children to Canada for safety and I told my wife to go with them. I would stay in London and muddle along.
I stayed in our house in a not too stylish part of Chelsea and went to work for the ministry of Defence. I wasn't good with fortifications and barracks designs. The head of my unit called me in. I thought I was going get the sack.
"Gussy, I know this sort of work isn't your strong suit," he began. I waited for the ax to fall. "We are setting up a new group to deal with bombed historic buildings. We need someone who can identify important works of art and stabilize or save what we can. I was hoping this might interest you."
"Oh yes sir!" I exclaimed.
"I have to tell you it's going to be nasty work. You will be in the first survey team after the bombing. It could be dangerous."
"It seems to me going to sleep in your own bed can be dangerous in London today," I replied.
"I hadn't thought of it that way, but I guess your right. Last night was a bit bumpy, wasn't it?" I nodded. It had been a big raid.
"You will be with some laborers and an engineer. You are to move valuable objects to safety if possible. You are to get a report to the County council if more work is needed," He handed me a slip of paper. "Are you willing to do this?"
"Yes I am." I replied. I felt as if a load of bricks was raised from my shoulders.
The next morning promptly at 8:00 I met the crew. Able bodied men were few and far between in London. A big man came up to me, "I'm Angus MacAffee, an engineer. I assume you are Mr. Augustus Sithren?" We shook hands. All the men were well into their 50 and Angus could easily been nearing 70.
"This is our foreman, Johnnie Gillcrest, his helper Dan O'Brien." Angus said in introduction. "They're old hands and know construction. "Pavel and Jan are refugees from Czechoslovakia. Etienne and Louis are stranded Frenchmen." A truck drove up and took us to our first bombed site.
It was a church in the Greek Revival style by the Inman brothers. As luck would have it I had recently read an article on them and knew the building. This immediately established me as an expert in Mr. MacAffee's eyes. He was a natural leader of men. I could speak French, since I had worked on the war graves commission monuments in France, so I could direct Etienne and Louis. Angus had little trouble being understood by the eastern European portion of our crew. Why that was I don't know. They didn't speak English well, but they did what he wanted.
I found a large Altar piece in a precarious situation. I had been done by Holman Hunt, a noted Pre Raphaelite painter. It wasn't to my taste, but our refugee workforce loved it and we got into an undamaged part of the church. Dan and Johnnie weren't too impressed by the painting, but the non English speaking part of the crew was impressed. I'm not sure they had been aware of the work they were to do. They were cultured men, unused to manual labor. That they discovered they were saving works of art it made it more tolerable for them.
I was exhausted after the first days work, but relieved I had some work that was worthwhile for me. The truck took us back to the distribution point. It was a cold day in late November. The men disappeared into the dark night leaving Angus and me alone. I asked if he would like to come home with me and we could share some dinner. He was more than willing. We found a bus and got back to Chelsea quickly.
Rationing made food scarce, but my wife and daughter were avid gardeners and I was well supplied with canned food from their gardens. When my daughter left she brought her supplies to my house. My house was more comfortable than handsome, but it did have two unusual features. It was built on top of an older building and incorporated the vaulted basement of this building. Below my living room was a 20 by 45 foot long vaulted chamber. The brick arches were 18" thick, so it provided good bomb shelter, for everything short of a direct hit.
This was nice, but the other feature was still better. The steam plant for a nearby hospital was located a few blocks away from the hospital itself. My wife's father had allowed them to run the pipes through the basement, thus my basement was heated. My wife hated this since she liked a cool house. I loved it. The upper floors of the house remained a shrine to my wife's family. The vaulted basement was my space. I had rigged up a large vat of water above the steam pipes and had hot water to bathe in. I had also installed a holding tank for shower baths, I have some arthritis in my hands and arms and the warm water was good for me.
Angus was entranced with these features. We could hear the air raid sirens wailing above, so we stayed in the basement. I made dinner of sliced ham and cheese. I had closed the vents to the upper floors in case the house was hit so the room became quite warm. We had been dressed in heavy wool tweeds and soon had stripped them off.
"This may sound rather odd, Gussy," Angus said. "but I would greatly appreciate it if I could have a bath. Hot water is such a rarity." Of course I agreed. I went upstairs to get him some towels. When I returned Angus was stark naked and under the shower.
"This is wonderful Gussy!" he exclaimed, totally unconcerned about his nudity. "This must be the most palatial bath in London these days. It can't be any better in Buckingham Palace."
I certainly wasn't use to nudity, but Angus had an air about him. It was as if it was the most natural thing in the world to stand naked in the middle of a strange man's house. A second or two later I realized he had nothing to be ashamed about. He looked like a school book's illustration of a Highland Chieftain. He was tall, brawny and hairy from his bushy beard to his toes.
Most notable was a huge white snake that hung from his hairy groin. It didn't look real. I'm afraid I stared at it. He noticed but didn't seem to mind. He smiled.
"I'm sorry for staring. It was so . . . unexpected," I stammered.
"It's a wonder, isn't it," Angus remarked. "I inherited by father's member. He was the Australian Robinson Caruso."
"He was your father?" I asked. The Australian Robinson Caruso had been a press sensation thirty years earlier. He had been marooned on a tropical isle and treated as a god by the aborigines. He had lived naked with the tribe for a decade before he returned to civilization. When I saw Angus standing naked, I realized he would have made a perfectly good Thor or Odin.
Angus got into the vat. "Come join me Gussy! There's room for two." I don't know what got into me, but I got undressed and joined him. The water was wonderful. I had been chilled to my bones during the day and the warmth seeped into me. I could hear the bombs exploding over the city, but they seemed distant. In the warmth of the vat it almost seemed like distant thunder on a summer day.
When I stood to get out of the vat, I realized I was half erect. Angus noticed and he leaned over and sucked me. I was shocked.
In fact I wasn't shocked. I knew I was supposed to be shocked, but the pleasure was so intense, I forgot to be shocked. Looking back I was the most conventional and proper person in Britain. I knew of cock sucking as a vulgar epithet, but had no vision of the act.
I had always been uncomfortable at the thought of nudity, not to mention the reality. My wife was very modest and thought nude men were repulsive. For some reason I wasn't at all shocked, or uncomfortable with the naked Scot sucking my cock. It seemed as if it was meant to be.
My wife believed sex was required for having children and when we had a boy and a girl, our sexual life came to an end. Truthfully speaking that was good for me too. She was so uncomfortable during sexual relations, I couldn't find pleasure in her discomfort.
There was no discomfort or uneasiness in Angus. Soon I was near an orgasm and I pushed him away. I was afraid I would shoot my seed in his mouth.
"Let me try that," I said.
Angus stood. His organ was fully erect. It was magnificent. It didn't seem real. As he stood and I leaned over to suck his huge member. His knob was bloated and purple, almost iridescent. I licked it and discovered it was covered in a sweet tasting jelly. It was drooling from his piss slit and much to my surprise, I licked the slit to get more of the drool. Soon I had the entire knob in my mouth as I tried coax more of it from his balls.
"You'd better be careful or you'll end up with a mouth full of my home brew," Angus said.
"Is that bad?"
"I like it myself, especially if it's fresh from the spigot, but for most it's an acquired taste," Angus replied. "Make your choice quickly. I'm ripe."
I didn't want to take his seed, but I wanted even less to stop sucking him. I continued to suck and Angus began to twitch. Then came the flood. Angus filled my mouth with his balls' seed. Oddly I was pleased he let me take it. I don't think I had ever conceived of sucking sperm from another man's penis. It should have disgusted me, but that wasn't what I felt.
I wanted more. I told Angus that.
"Well I'm more than willing, but I need more time to refill," he said. "Let's get back into the water and talk."
"My father and I were equally well endowed. The cock is what saved him from becoming an Aborigines dinner," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"You may had read the story. It was quite sensational at the time. My father had a private journal that gave the true account. The tribe worshiped a male fertility figure and his cock matched that of the divine member. Most of the worship took the form of man sex culminating in the exchange of sperm. It was done just the way you did it. Sucking it directly from the spurting organ."
"I thought that was more of an inclination of more refined types like Oscar Wilde?"
"Not at all. My father discovered it was a form of population control. Food was scarce and over population a threat. Eating your mate's cum was a blessing for the tribe and a personal joy. In his journal my father said he grew to enjoy it as much as the primitives did. That was fortunate since the alternative to being a god was to be eaten."
"Your father told you this?"
"Not at all. I discovered the journal. I knew he was unconcerned with nudity, We went swimming many times. I of course noticed his huge member and was pleased when my own grew. I had no idea I shared his sexual interest in men and for years I live in dread that he might find out. When I read the story, I realized all was well. My taste for men was a family tradition, not an aberration."
"You have never had a chance to encounter a similar tribe and be made a god?" I asked as a joke.
"Not as such. However, when you are as endowed as I am, one does acquire a following. Many men are interested. I have never been able to find a tribe that has the interest. Until now, that is."
"Until now?"
"My crew is made up of like spirits," he said.
"Is that why I am assigned to your crew?" I asked. I was shocked that I would be suspected of such a thing.
"Not at all," he said with a smile. "You are evidence of God's will and the operation of predestination. We are all here for a purpose. It must be at least a million to one chance you would share my interests. But here you are."
"I'm not so sure about that," I said.
"You may not be willing to admit it, but I think you will come to understand I'm right. Let's face it. Here we are in the greatest city in the world as it's being bombed to dust. If Hitler wins, we will be better off being blown up now than living under that maniac. At any moment we can be blown to smithereens. Why not enjoy ourselves as we await out fates? I'm not sure given the nightmare we're living in, cock sucking even counts as a sin."
I laughed. "You are a most convincing man," I said. Angus returned to sucking my cock. This time I let him suck be to an orgasm. I loved it. He was the first person to enjoy my cock. It was a revelation to me. He spent the night and for the first time in years I slept like a baby. The next morning I took my breakfast from his cock.
That day we returned to the church for a few hours then went to a row of Georgian houses. There were no valuables here, but Angus and the men rigged up some bracing to support a major wall. Sometimes some rather simple things can forestall total collapse. Of course another bomb might finish off the place, but if yo don't try there is no chance you can save anything. Angus was always sure. His faith in predestination applied to building preservation as well a sexual pleasures. He was a cheerful man to work with.
That night the entire crew came to my house to eat and clean up. None of the men complained, but I discovered all were destitute and homeless. That of course applied to the refugees, but Johnnie and Dan's lodgings had been bombed. They were all living in tube stations.
I don't think they could have walked into the Hall of Mirror's at Versailles and been more impressed than they were by my vaulted basement. They admired the construction, the dryness and most of all the heat. I had a clothes washer in a part of the room, and Johnnie took charge of the cleaning detail.
Etienne helped make dinner as the men bathed. I have to admit he was a much better cook than I. We used the same raw materials, but the result was much improved. I went into my late father in law's wine cellar and the mood became downright festive. I looked around the cellar and realized I hardly noticed by the naked inhabitants. Iwas not at all concerned. You can easily can get use to new situations.
Johnnie was a hairy bear of a man, his helper Dan was a smaller man, but of monkey-like hairiness. Pavel and Jan were slim and rather elegant man. Jan turned out to be a Pole. Angus seemed to think all central Europeans were Czechs. Pavel spoke some English, but Jan could understand some French. That was helpful.
Etienne was a small Frenchman with a mustache. He struck me as a pint sized lounge lizzard. I have the typical Englishman's suspicion of French men. He was a hard worker and more than pulled his weight. He also had a hairy chest and was well endowed.
Louis was a bull. Short, solid and massive. He was bald and bearded and his body was covered by curly brown hair. He had compact, but impressive genitals. He was circumcised. I assumed he was Jewish. He was a rather crude looking, but he was well spoken. He had been a school teacher and had commandeered a fishing boat during the Dunkirk evacuation and had saved a portion of a Highland regiment. He had planed to return to France but he was injured and one of the officers, a friend of Angus, kept him for returning.
As we finished dinner the lights went out. I assumed a bomb had hit an electrical facility. I had candles and a few lamps. Candlelight changed my basement into a romantic hideaway. I didn't know how Angus had found these men, nor how he found out about their sexual preferences, but they had never had a chance to be together as a group. In the flickering light men paired off and and clustered into groups.