Dudley Fitzhugh 2
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 winarch47@yahoo.com
A few weeks later Bunny mentioned a pal name Mack might be interested in meeting me. Mack was a few years older than Bunny and had been a building contractor for fifty years. He had sold his business for a bundle with the assumption that he would remain as president. That was a false assumption and suddenly he discovered he had no life. His wife had died years earlier, and his children had moved away. He had played golf once a week for years, and the club was the only part of his former life to remain.
Mack was a big, muscular, man with no social skills. He wasn't exactly rude, but he was direct and forceful. That was good on the construction site. Bunny knew Mack's family. He said that Mack was a good father, but his three daughters knew they had to get away from him if they wanted a life of their own.
Bunny got to know Mack when his in-house book keepers missed-filed an incomplete report with the IRS. Bunny corrected the reports. He had connections with IRS staff and explained the error to their satisfaction. Bunny became a hero in Mack's operation.
The two men had opposite personalities, but they got along well. Somehow they shared a sexual interest. Mack thought sex with a woman would be cheating on his deceased wife. He had experimented with men in high school. He thought that was just messing around, not sex.
Bunny mentioned to Mack that I was a good locker room attendant, and an enjoyable man in my spare time. I actually have no idea what Bunny actually told him. Bunny was never direct but Mack knew that when a man asked Mack to build some thing for him, Bunny told him that he was sure he wouldn't have the problem getting prompt payment unlike the experience of last man to work with him. Mack knew what Bunny was telling him.
Bunny told me that Mack was used to construction workers who appreciated direct, clear orders, and instructions. That was not a characteristic of many of the club members. For many of them, they hired others to be direct.
One of our members' boys damaged a toilet. What ever happened, it involved trying to flush a cow turd down the toilet. When the toilet overflowed the boy hit the tank and broke it. That flooded the room. I discovered the problem at seven in the morning. By that time the toilets and shower rooms were flooded. The turd had been liquefied so the mess was everywhere.
I cut off the water, but the turd had blocked the floor drain. I unblocked them and a half hour the water was gone. I used the my usual cleaning stuff, high-strength and anti-athletes foot potions. By nine-thirty the rooms were sanitary and smelled good.
Mack had a tee off time at nine, and he saw me at work. The golfers were shocked at the mess. Mack remarked that shit happens. On construction sites shit happens too. For Mack it didn't matter as much as what happened, it only mattered how quickly you fix it. I got things back to normal quickly. Mack appreciated that. He mentioned to the Golf Pro, Hamilton Green, that I had done a good job.
A few days later he thanked me and mentioned that Bunny thought highly of me. I said Bunny was a nice man. "My job here is pretty easy, I have some spare time. Bunny likes to talk."
Mack paused and then said, "I like to talk too. I get up at the crack of dawn. There is no one to talk to then."
I told him I usually took a shower first thing in the morning, so I could clean up the room and myself. "It's nice to clean up when the room is empty."
Two days later at 7:30, Mack joined me in the shower. He said he had an early appointment and the club was on the way. Mack was a big man and in good shape for a man nearing seventy. He was clean shaven, but his chest and back were hairy. His balls hung low and his cock was meaty and seven inches soft. I am not a calculating guy, but my cock has a tendency to get semi-hard when inspired. It's not exactly hard or soft.
Men either react to it if they are interested or they ignore it. Mack reacted. He was uncut, but his cock head peaked out of the skin.
"Do you have time to come by my place for a cup of coffee?" I asked.
He said he had to tee off in a half hour. "Is there any chance we might share a beer sometime?" he asked.
"To tell you the truth, there is a good chance," I said. "I am back to my apartment by 9:30 just about every night." He asked if he could drop by that evening. I said that would be fine.
When I entered my place that evening, Mack was at my door moments later. He must have been waiting. We had a beer. He was uneasy.
"Bunny told me that you had some good times," Mack said. "He's a nice guy."
"Actually, Bunny and I have had some great times. He's pretty adventurous," I said. "It turned into something more intimate than he expected, but it was good. He discovered everything was in working order."
"I'm not sure I want anything intimate," Mack replied.
"Some things were briefly intense and pleasurable, but then things fade quickly and we return normal," I said. "We had good memories. No drama, just guys having a good time. I hope I wasn't too obvious in the shower. You are a big man."
"In college a friend said I'm too big to be useful," Mack said.
"That seems unlikely. It is big enough to be a challenge, but I like a challenge," I replied.
"I might shoot off," he said in a whisper.
"Don't worry about that," I said. "I can deal with that."
We stripped. Mack was nervous until my lips peeled back his foreskin and I carefully caressed his knob with my tongue. Ten minutes later he tensed up and warned me he was getting close.
"That's why I am here," I said as I quickly returned to his cock. Three or four minutes later I became the first person to take his load in the mouth. His cock head got very tender, so I took my time. I would wait after an ejaculation, and then gently lick the cock head to induce an additional spurt.
"You didn't need to do that," he said. "I don't know if I could do that for you."
"This is not a tit-for-tat situation. I enjoyed it. I could taste that you enjoyed it, too." I said.
"Do I have to take your load?" he asked.
"You can do what you want to do. If you want to experiment, that's fine. If you liked it when I took your load, that's fine. It you didn't like it, that would have been fine too. I will never do it again." I explained. We talked a little longer, He dressed, said thank you and left. I knew he would be back, but I didn't want to push him. He needed to make up his own mind.
I wasn't surprised that Mack came back to see me. Given a choice between having no sex and having a young guy sucking you off and draining your balls is easy decision for most men.
Through Bunny and me, Mack met several other men. It is tacky, but true, that a big cock tends to attract gay men. Some men claim to like smaller cocks, but a monster cock hanging between the legs of a friendly, muscular man is rarely rejected.
The club had several non elite members. Frederic of Frederic's Flowers was a member, as was Bruce, of A Night To Remember Weddings. They gave club members discounts on their services. A 20% discount on a big wedding was significant. Frederic and Bruce were imaginative men, and their events were memorable and enjoyable. Frederic told me the Club weddings were the only advertising he needed.
Frederic made Chi Chi La Rue seem like Tom Selleck. Frederic and Bruce had done Mack's daughter's wedding and Frederic provided flowers for his wife's funeral. They had been stunning and Mack saw them as complete professionals.
I was surprised when Mack and Frederic came knocking on my door at 10:00 in the evening. "Are you busy?" Mack asked. I said no.
"Would you like to have some company?" Mack asked. I invited them in. He introduced me to Frederic. I had seen him around, but I had never met him.
"I was hoping the three of us might have some fun," Mack said. "I was assuming that would not be a problem for you. I hope I haven't offended you?"
"I hate to be direct, but it takes a lot for me to get offended," I said laughing. I took off my shirt and dropped my shorts. "I hope I am not too open about my sexual interests." I added. Frederic was naked a minute later.
"If you can do it with a cock, mouth or asshole, I'm willing," Frederic said. "I like oral and anal sex, giving and taking. If you can think of anything new, I'm willing to experiment. By the way, I haven't sucked a young cock in a while. Mack said you like sperm. I like it too."
I assumed that Frederic was sexually experienced. I was surprised that Mack was so into it. The second my cock poked into Frederic's ass I knew all was well. My cock slid into Frederic's ass effortlessly. Maybe thirty seconds later Mack's cock entered my ass.
Frederic was sexually experienced and skilled. I was eager to learn. Mack was enthusiastic. As a business man he was a fast learner and he didn't do anything half way. Frederic was effeminate, but talented. His floral designs were not just nice, they were stunning.
When Mack shoved his cock up my ass, it wasn't good, it was an experience I would remember to my last days. Mack was shocked. While he wasn't attracted to effeminate men, his cock was all man. We traded places, and Frederic fucked Mack as I fucked Frederic. Frederic had to leave, but Mack stayed.
Mack told me he had enjoyed it. "There was one surprise. Frederic lost his lisp when he was fucking me," he explained. "When he was close to shooting, he asked if I wanted his load." He paused. "I said yes."
"How was it?" I asked.
"I am embarrassed to say I loved it. I was shocked when I felt him squirting. I wanted it." he said. "I didn't want to like it, but I did. How many times have I unloaded in your ass?"
"Maybe ten times," I replied. "I enjoyed it." We talked a little longer and Mack went home. I was pretty sure that my cock would soon be regularly massaging his prostate.
The club house stayed open to 11:00 PM during the week and to 2:00 AM on Friday and Saturday, the locker room was open from 7:30 AM to 9:00 PM from April to November. At night I am the only person in the Locker Room-Pro Shop area.
Due to my stint at the Night Hawk Motel, I am a light sleeper. I was always ready to answer a guest's call. I can sleep in between calls. One night at 11:00 I woke up suddenly. Something was wrong. I went out side and saw flames coming from the Pro Shop's porch. I called the fire department and the club house. The kitchen staff at the club were doing clean up. They came running.
There was a garden hose which I sprayed on the fire. It seemed to spread the flames. The head chef, Marcel, arrived with heavy duty fire extinguishers. They were able to slow the fire's spread. I later found out that they were designed for grease fires. We damped down the flames enough for the fire department to arrive and extinguish the fire.
Marcel, who had always seemed like a flighty prima-donna to me, was a leader of men. When he was younger he had been in a kitchen fire that killed a friend. He was obsessed with fire safety. He told the fire chief that something was wrong with the fire. He thought an accelerant was involved. The fire started in a wire mesh trash can, but the accelerant had been poured the length of the porch. The smell of what ever had been used became pronounced as the smoke cleared.
As we talked, there was a small explosion from inside the building. We raced inside. The explosion was a mini-bomb set off in the tank of a toilet near the showers. I had no idea who did the flammable liquid on the porch. I had strong suspicions about the persons responsible for the exploding toilet.
The Wilton Hill's Club was a few hundred steps up the social ladder from the Thunder Hawk Motel, but assholes and fools have no particular social class. It is quite possible for a drunk on the dark end of the bar to be as trashy as a millionaire. The Wilton Hill's Club assholes were slightly less likely to puke on you than Thunder Hawk patron, but they could be just as obnoxious.
There was one difference. The Thunder Hawk Inn patron might get mad at you for putting on airs, but the Wilton Hill's Club members would dump on you because you are a nothing. If one of them dumped on someone from your own class, his mother might tell your mother and there would be hell to pay. They sought out the shy and the weak.
I encountered a problem with what was called the Bear Mountain Quartet. They were four guys in their twenties who were out of college, but were waiting for their fathers to find a suitable positions in the business world. Bunny told me that usually the position was Vice President for new projects, or something in the PR department.
Bear Mountain was the best address in town. The best people lived there. If you didn't believe that they would tell you. The leader of the Bear Mountain Quartet was Huston Winters. He had graduated from his father's Alma Mater after six years and a modest gift of ten million to the college. Sutherland Thomas was taking a year or two off to do a paper to graduate. Coley Miller was a football player with a degree in Phys Ed. Junior Roberts apparently majored in Theater Arts.
They played golf and tennis a lot. They were loud, rude and insulting. Huston came to my attention because he wasn't the sort of man who would demean himself by flushing the toilet unless he had added trash to make sure the toilet would overflow. Sutherland left his towels on the floor, not in the to be washed basket. They all brought food into the locker room and would toss apple cores and banana peels on the floor. They did not use wastepaper baskets for anything other than discarded cigarettes. All were loud, messy and profane, except for Junior.
They seemed to believe that a large inheritance excused you from any need to be polite or pleasant. Since I was the low man on the totem pole, trashing the lockers and shower room was a major source of amusement for them. When I saw them coming I would enforce the no smoking rule.
It was possible they didn't realize that clogging the toilets or leaving a turd in the shower room, was a different order of magnitude from arson. I mentioned my suspicions to Marcel and to Mack. Marcel had zero tolerance of arson. He also learned that the accelerant had been used in other suspicious fires. Mack knew Junior Roberts and Coley Miller and had seen them at the bar getting drunk the night of the fire.
Mack cornered Junior and Coley and told them he suspected they were involved and would tell the Fire Marshal his suspicions. They could go to the police and confess and maybe get a suspended sentence. If they didn't do that he would turn them over to the police. Coley said his parents had good lawyers. Junior said it was a joke.
Mack told them he had known the Fire Marshall for years. "He wouldn't give a shit to a lawyer trying help a firebug kid. By the way, you aren't kids any more. You are adults and facing felonies," Mack explained. Mack had no problem scaring them.
Coley and Junior weren't as stupid as I thought they were. They went to the police and confessed. The Fire Marshal had a list of suspicious fires. They knew who set them. Huston Winters was soon in a mental institution. His interest in fires was not casual. The other three were required to do public service work for a year.
Marcel and I became quite friendly. The golf pro and he were at the top of the Club employees. I was dependable and helpful. It turned out that I shared common sexual interests with Marcel. Marcel was French but his family came from the area next to Italy on the Mediterranean Sea. He was Italian. If the health inspectors ever saw him naked they would have required a full body hair net. He was a careful with his staff. He told me had a sexual problem with a head chef in his first job, and he would never do that to anyone. I was not on his staff.
I also found another friend, Junior Robert's father Reginald. He came to me to apologize for Junior's actions. "I think that deep in my heart I knew something was going wrong. I hoped it would just go away," he said. "I knew that Huston was a problem and my son was easily influenced. His mom took off and left, and I was too busy with work to fill the void. It wasn't just boys will be boys stuff."
I told him that I had misjudged them. I thought they were just immature pricks. I didn't think they would move on to felonies.
I am not a mind reader but I felt something about Reginald. He reminded me of the more unsure men who had a room at the Thunder Hawk Inn. He was unsure and timid. I noticed him glancing at my crotch. Reginald was a social member of the Country Club. He didn't golf. He ran Roberts & Dunlop, Stock Brokers. They handled accounts for the wealthy. He used the club for private lunches and dinners. Marcel liked him because Reginald's customers appreciated gourmet food, and so Reginald simply asked him to make something impressive.
Marcel dropped by once an a while. He told me that I had impressed Reginald. He said that he had not mentioned my sexual tastes. "I didn't know if mentioned the phrase "horse hung" about Reginald it would impress you or offend you," he said. I clarified that. A week later Marcel arranged a meeting with him and Reginald at 7:30 on a Sunday morning. The original club rules required the club open at 1:00 on Sundays so the members could attend church.
They arrived at my apartment at 7:30 on the dot. Marcel was never late. "You know Reginald," Marcel said. "He's a bit nervous, but we all know why we are here. Rather than exchanging pleasantries, why don't we get naked and get down to business?
Reginald looked a bit surprised, but as soon as we were all naked, he was fine. Marcel looked like Bigfoot, Reginald obviously worked out and his body would have been his most impressive feature had it not been for his impressive cock. My body is pretty average, but a full erection made up for my body.
I immediately dropped to my knees and swallowed Reginald's cock. I had not lost my skill at making friends with gay men. For the next hour we explored the possible positions for three men. All were a success.