Friar Tucker and the Men of Hardwood Forest
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
Friar Tucker's real name was Edmund Tucker and he had a degree in Music History. He specialized in medieval chants. Curiously, that specialty did not pave the way to wealth and fame. He found a job with Music-R-Us. It sold and repaired musical instruments.
Edmund had perfect pitch and a beautiful voice. That could have been good, but he refused to sing anything composed after sixteen hundred. That further limited the path to fame and fortune. While he was gay, he claimed that sex was betraying the sacred nature of his music.
That claim was a total piece of shit. He was willing to suck or fuck anyone who could put up with his pretensions. While that limited his sex life, he was a bearded, good looking, beefy man, and was hung like Sir Galahad's horse.
He had two good friends, Roger Smith and Thomas Jones. They were friends from music school. Rodger admitted Edmund was a difficult man, but he was nice when you got to know him. By that he meant Edmund was well hung.
The trio went to the local venue for gay men, the South Seas Restaurant. It had a monthly talent show for the gay community. Edmund had been writing erotic gay songs in the style of Gregorian Chants for years. Edmond lost a bet. It was expected to publicly sing his chants. That was to be an embarrassing episode for him. Roger and Thomas got him to take the stage.
The chants were a total success. Edmund had a good voice, and after the first Gregorian Chant was a success, Edmund moved on to increasingly erotic and obscene chants. The audience went wild. When they passed a plate to reward the singer, Edmund was five-hundred dollars richer.
Two days later the proprietors of the South Seas asked for him to return as a featured performer. Edmund was on the way to fame and fortune.
A week later Edmund was rechristened Friar Tucker. Roger and Thomas were the first men to join him as the Merry Men of Hardwood Forest. They found other men to join the merry men. All had degrees in music and had good voices. They were all gay and all wanted to perform. Edmund recruited Seth, a barber; Harry, a masseur; and Sam, a musical instrument repair man to join the group.
To say they were gay understates the case. Seth's barber shop catered to gay men and massages were available. Harry worked for him as a masseur. He was all top, so Sam helped out if a willing bottom was needed in the massage business.
The group was successful because all had good voices. They sounded great and their voices dramatically contrasted with the lyrics. The lyrics alternated from what Edmund described as full-frontal, off color, risque, to oh-my-god dirty. At the big show at the South Seas men were rolling on the floor it was so funny. They were a hit.
The men all liked to perform and were flexible. Roger could be Little John if necessary. Seth was delicate and handsome. He could be an alluring Maid Marion. That was unexpected since he had an impressive beard.
They wore monks robes over their nude bodies. Their lyrics were complimented by a little peek-a-boo with the robes. The front seats were very popular.
I am Terry Barker, and I became the manager in name only for the group. I can sing some, so I can pinch hit for anyone who has a sore throat. I am well organized can fetch food and drink as necessary and can get transportation to a venue as necessary.
I am a retired nurse since an accident that left me almost blind in one eye and with reduced vision in the other eye. I am forty-five and could be described as a Bear. I am also tall, so if a back-up Little John is needed I can do that. I am not a great singer, but I am good at bellowing. I get some disability so a little extra cash is good.
It wasn't a perfect job but it wasn't too demanding. I am gay so sex was a nice perk of the job. Friar Tucker and the Merry Men of Hardwood Forest were playing monks, but they studiously avoided historically accurate chastity.
I knew the men from Seth who was my barber. I met Harry and Sam through him. I became Harry's advisor. I could do testing and if their massages advanced to the sperm exchange and penetration level. I thought that would offend their customers but that had the opposite effect. The men were relieved and felt free to go all the way to a ball draining orgasm.
The shows at the South Seas Restaurant were always sold out. In addition to the shows, Friar Tucker and the Merry Men of Hardwood Forest were invited to private homes for special events such as birthdays, retirement parties, and anniversaries. Some of these were accompanied by sexual explorations.
Edmund had standards. There was a lump sum fee for the performance. If there was a "meet the artist session" after, the host would make a significant charitable donation. Edmund said that the fee was for art, the gift was for sperm. Many times the guests would contribute to this donation. The men would be tested, but interaction with Friar Tucker and his men was at the discretion of the Tucker and the Men of Hardwood. I was one of the men.
I didn't expect this sort of arrangement would be successful. I was wrong about that. Apparently men preferred a donation to charity to paying for sex. It seemed they liked to think sex was due to mutual attraction than to monetary gain. If they didn't have sex with the men of Hardwood, they could enjoy watching other men having sex.
The first of our charity appearances was at the birthday party of Duncan Haversack. He was a retired bank president. It was at a farm owned by a friend, Donnie. To call it a farm wasn't entirely correct. There were cows, but the farm produced handmade, artisanal cheese. Donnie was a sixty-year-old, retired stock broker.
Donnie told me it was supposed to be a hobby but turned into a major moneymaker. His lover, William, was a dutch cheese maker. The 20 or so men at the party were a combination of financial types, dairy farmers, and gourmet food makers. Many hadn't heard of Friar Tucker and the Men of Hardwood Forest.
The show was a wild success and the peek-a-boo costumes were much admired. William said that porn was a universal language. He remarked, "I thought the nudity was tastefully handled." Edmund was almost rolling on the floor with laughter. The show was not an exercise in vaguely risque refinement.
Seth was playing Maid Marion in one of the skits. In the skit, Edmund evoked anal sex by delicately easing his cock into Seth's ass. By the time the skits were finished, half of the men were naked and the other half were in their underwear, if a jock can be called underwear. I was wearing light weight shorts and a spaghetti strap tee shirt.
After the performance was over, Edmund made a little speech. "After our performance of Gregorian chants, the men and I like to have a little rest and relaxation. You are free to join us if you wish," he said. "I assume you noticed the elegance and refined nature of our performance." The men laughed.
"I need to warn you that our rest and relaxation period is not particularly refined," he continued. "My men are tense and tired and a looking for ways to quickly relax. We are a friendly band of men, and we enjoy other friendly men. Some of us like indulge in activities that while they are enjoyable, they are intimate and sometimes include intimate penetrations and exchanging manly fluids. If this offends you, we fully understand. Everything is voluntary and is intended to be enjoyable." Edmond paused. "I hope no one is offended."
"I think I have died and gone to heaven," One man exclaimed. All the guest laughed.
Two naked men came over to Seth and me after the show. Rod was involved in the dairy cow portion of the cheese operation. The other man, Edgar was a stock annalist specializing in anti-virus companies. Rod looked like a model for a rugged menswear company. Edgar looked like the 98 pound weakling in the old Charles Atlas muscle building add.
Rod was bearded, six foot three, solid and muscular due to hard work. His beard merged with his chest and back hair. He was dressed in a jock that was barely able to contain his genitals.
Edgar was five-feet-five-inches tall and thin. He looked like a jogger. Edgar was naked and had a thick, uncut, seven inch tool. Both men like me. I'm in okay shape but pretty hairy. My pal Seth once told me I was a good looking guy, but not so good looking you would think you could never end up in bed with me.
Rod asked why I hadn't performed. I said I was a back up act in case there was a problem with the Men of Hardwood Forest. "I can sing some, but I have a great bellow," I explained. "Seth is a good Maid Marion. I have no acting talent at all."
If there is the barest hint of sex, I get semi hard. My cock was clearly outlined. My shorts were almost transparent. Both Rod and Edgar liked that.
"When we were invited to this party, Donnie said the guys here were really friendly," Edgar said.
"We are pretty friendly," I said, I dropped my voice and added, "Did he mention that we are usually horny as shit? For some reason we are never asked to perform at Sunday School socials. "We aren't looking for love, but we are friendly guys," I said.
"I'm really friendly," Edgar said.
"I have a feeling this may be a special day," I said. "I assume you aren't shy. I like to get to know a guy. That sometimes involves shooting off and exchanging the special sauce."
Neither Rod nor Edgar were delicate, shy types. Both were able to accommodate us. The four of us were the first in the group to make the jump from oral to anal sex. I think I was closer to being virginal than any of the other men in the room. My virginity had vanished in the showers at nursing school twenty-five years earlier.
Edmund's warnings about potential intense sex were unnecessary. There was no evidence that any of the guests had a problem with oral or anal sex, or that they suffered from shyness. They were show offs. I was comparatively shy. I have to admit my comparative shyness vanished over the next two hours.
It was a good afternoon. I was in a group of thirty, nude, gay men. They were all sexually enthusiastic, and engaged. No one seemed to hold back, no one seemed to be shy. It was as if being on your back with your legs in the air as a man you didn't know poked his cock into your ass was a normal, everyday occurrence.
No one tried to hide his sexual interest, or his admiration of his fuck mates skills. It was beautiful for all of us. While both Rod and Edgar enjoyed me, I connected with several other men who I didn't know.
This was a new experience for me. The sex was great, but the sense of freedom was even greater. Everyone shared my sexual experiences. At a straight party I was a minority. Here I didn't need to be careful about my sexual orientation, I didn't need to hide.
In some ways asking a man if I could shove my cock up his ass was like asking him if he wanted a cup of coffee. While I tended to be generous in making my ass available to needy men, I discovered most of them were willing to open up for me.
I also shot off three times, one into Edgar's mouth, and once in the sixty nine position with Rod. I took his load at the same time, a first for me.
The other time was with the birthday boy Duncan Haversack. He shot off in my ass as I fucked his pal Donnie. William's orgasms triggered my ejaculation and that was a total success with both men. William liked it so much that he licked his Donnie's sperm as it drooled from my ass. I later found out that was a first for William and a success.
A month later Friar Tucker and the Men of Hardwood Forest was a hit and had bookings for six months. This included six multi-night gigs. There was also a record deal. I know they don't have records anymore, but we signed with the digital equivalent.
The men at William and Donnie's party seemed to have friends, and friends of friends. There were far more of these than we could possibly attend. We had to be selective.
Edmund and the Merry Men were musicians. They greatly enjoyed performing and the applause of the audiences. They were talented gay men, but they wanted to me musicians first. Sex was nice but didn't generate the applause they wanted. That didn't mean they were opposed to sex. Sex was an attractive perk. I liked the sex, but I was worried about overload. I wondered if sex would become an obligation, not a pleasure.
That wasn't a problem. While Friar Tucker and the Merry Men of Hardwood Forest was not high art, it was more attractive to educated men than to the man on the street. It also attracted men who were open minded and appreciate non mainstream music. If you only liked heavy metal, rap, or country music we were not attractive. The music was beautiful, although the lyrics were definitely not medieval.
We added two new singers to Men of the Hardwood, Jasper and Juan. Jasper was a counter-tenor, a male soprano. He had a beautiful voice and a handsome man. Juan was a bass, and produced sounds so deep that you could feel it in your balls. He was big, stern, and a bit scary looking. He was actually a jolly, horny Santa type.
One of our gigs was at the Athletic League Club in Chicago. It was built for the upper crust, in 1924. The neighborhood and membership changed over the next century. It was a gym for at risk youths, and after a period housing hippy artists, it became an artistic, gay area of galleries, experimental theater companies, and off beat boutiques.
It was now stylish again, the Club had become the social focus of the gay community. The original club members had endowed the club, so it was still private, and the dues were modest. We were to do two recitals in the gym-meeting room on Friday and Saturday. After that there was a meet and greet for the board of directors and their friends.
The recital was a success. By this time our group functioned as a single instrument. The music was perfect and the contrast between the music and the lyrics was artistically superb, and the lyrics were shocking and funny. We had a second recital the next after noon and were invited to a party that evening.
The party was in the Board Room. This was a handsome, wood paneled, space suitable for a formal event. The chairman of the board David greeted us. He said he enjoyed the performances greatly. A man who introduced himself as Randal took us to a shower-locker room. He was the business manager and I recognized his voice from our phone calls arranging for the event.
There were six men undressing in the lockers and two others taking a quick trip to the showers. I was drying off as a more men entered. These men included Doc Good-body. We had chatted about our safety requirements. He was sixty or so, bearded, in good shape and had a hairy chest. I found he preferred to be called Goody.
Thought the guests would be mostly older men, but the men were varied in age, race and approach to life. There were artists, chefs, construction workers, a cop or two and professional men. Their ages varied from thirty to seventy.
The only common denominator was their taste for sex with men. Taste is the wrong word, obsession might be better. All were ready, willing and able. They knew each other, but they enjoyed meeting new men. They were all as interested in taking as well as giving. I was surprised that they had no problem becoming intimate with men they didn't know.
Goody told me that was because this was an athletic club. "Exercise as a prelude to a trip to the showers, accelerated the getting acquainted process," he explained. "When you add a trip to the sauna or steam room, the process is turbo-charged."
"I used to go to the Y," I said. "Meeting guys was easy, moving on to sex wasn't."
"The men in our little Club are gay or gay friendly," Goody said. "They are into sex, or they like to watch it."
"I would think that watching would be too tempting," I said.
Goody laughed. "I think some men are looking for Mr. Right, and they want to see him in action before they make contact. For guys into porn, it's like 3-D porn, a hologram."
Five minutes later I was with a Sikh surgeon, Ran; an aging hippy sculptor, Sunny; and Johnny, a Black, high school coach. Ran was a young man, Sunny was showing his age, and Johnny was a ball of fire. I am showing my age, and that seemed to be fine with them. Johnny told me he had to be careful to avoid young men hoping to make it to the big leagues. Sunny had been through a number of young women who wanted to be his muse. He preferred men who just wanted wild sex. Somehow they all seemed to know that I was their type.
We were all six feet or so tall, and it seemed that we fit anatomically. None of us were delicate, dainty types, but no one was Attila the Hun trying to conquer new lands. Sunny was into yoga, and he was a wonder. He flexible and also had complete control of his orgasms, so he could let you know if he was close. It was available to whomever was closest.
Johnny was a happy fucker. It wasn't love for him; it was recreation. He loved to fuck and had clearly developed a way to painlessly work his over sized tool into a willing ass. We had a good time, and after his orgasm he enjoyed me.
"I like sex plain and simple," he explained. "I get white guys who are taking my cock to shock their friends and family. They want to be bad boys. Other guys want to prove they are open minded and free from prejudice. I like plain old sex addicts. It all fun for both of us."