Good Boys, Bad Boys
By Bald Hairy Man e-mail bldhrymn@aol.com or bldhrymn@yahoo.com
This is an adult story intended for adults. It is a fantasy, so I have done away with the requirements of safe sex, and jettisoned a good deal of common sense too. It follows on my earlier story, Preaching to the Choir and Wilson's Hollow. These are not required reading, but it might help you to get to know the characters better. If you have any suggestion or comments, please e-mail me.
Cities are a jumble of people, activities and buildings. In modern cities zoning organizes and orders uses in a vain effort to make the place "sensible" or at least sanitary. Usually, this makes the place boring. In older cities the jumble reigns supreme. In older cities you can find hole in the wall hot dog shops next to twenty story bank buildings and Chinese Restaurant next to a country and western clothing store.
Nowhere was there an odder juxtaposition than the Church of St. Peter & Paul and the Top Cat gay bar. St. Peter & Paul was the oldest, wealthiest and most socially prominent Episcopal church in Richmond and the Top Cat was as sleazy, grungy and low down as it could be without being outright illegal.
The proprietor, Billy Wilson, was well aware both that his location in downtown was ideal for his clientele, and that any miss step would result in losing his business. The State authorities waged war against gay establishments of any sort, having lost their major recreational activities, afflicting Black owned businesses in the Civil Rights era.
Billy was aggressively anti-drug. Anyone who brought drugs into the bar was unceremoniously thrown out on the street. Anyone who tried to sell drugs there was all but lynched. Two of the men this happened to were police plants. Even the City police had to admit Billy ran a tight ship.
Normally the two organizations coexisted well. St. Peter & Paul's hours of operation did not coincide with the Top Cat's. The Top Cat didn't offer Sunday brunch, and the churches' activities were over by 8:00 or 9:00 at night. There was one exception to this peaceful coexistence, the Men's Choir. On Wednesday nights the men's Choir practiced until 10:00 or 11:00. This too was rarely a problem.
I'm Wally Jones, the choir director. I was surprised when one of his members called and complained he had been yelled at by one of the bar's patrons as he left the church. He hadn't actually been threatened, but it had been uncomfortable. One of the challenges of running a downtown church was getting people to come downtown in spite of their fear of crime. The city has a high murder rate, but crime was localized in housing projects and run down neighborhoods. It didn't affect the downtown area. For St. Peter & Paul crime wasn't the problem, fear of Crime was.
The last thing in the world I needed was to have a problem with his Choir members, so the next day I visited the Top Cat to talk with the manager. The Top Cat opened at 6:00, so I got there after work, hoping to find the manager before work. My taste in restaurants tended to include salad bars and officious waiters. The Top Cat wasn't my style. It was dark, greasy and smelled of urinal deodorant.
I went to the bar. "Is the manger here?" I asked the bearded man behind the counter.
"I guess so," he replied. "He's in the back. The first door beyond the head." I went back, feeling uneasy. The toilet was easy enough to find by smell. I knocked on the next door.
"Come on in!" a voice bellowed. I opened the door. The room was dark, small, filled with stuff and fully occupied by a big bearded man in a flannel shirt, opened to his waist.
"What do ya want?" the mountain of a man asked.
"I'm Wally Jones, the Choir Director from the church. We had a little incident last night with one of your patrons and a choir member," I stated. I was really uneasy, but it had to be done and I'm an aggressive man and not prone to back down when confronted by an unsavory character. I'm also a solid 6'-2".
"Shit. Was anyone hurt?" the big man replied. The man's attitude changed completely.
"No, it wasn't like that. Just some yelling," I said. "It was uncomfortable, nothing serious. I don't want there to be anything serious."
"You and me brother. The last thing in the world I want is trouble. I'm Billy Wilson, the owner," he said. "This bar's here for fun, not for trouble." He stood up and we shook hands. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw that what I thought had been a black tee shirt, was a mat of black, curly hair. While I was checking out Billy, Billy gave me the once over.
My taste in clothes is considered by some to be eccentric. I'm normally dressed in a choir robe or informally dressed in a loud Hawaiian print shirt. Today I was in my informal dress and Billy saw my hairy torso through the unbuttoned shirt. It would be hard to find two men more unlike, but we seemed to share an interest in hairy men.
I have a healthy sex drive, but it's usually under control. I don't jump into bed with complete strangers. I've been known to have a fling with a friend of a friend, but I usually like to know the provenance of the men I have sex with. My weakness is hairy, butch men. They turn me on. They don't turn me on in a subtle way. It like a switch turns on all of my sex drives. Fortunately, that sort of man normally isn't interested in a choir director type.
I've got good gaydar and I could sense Billy's interest. "I don't have a lot of control over my customers, but there are some things I can do." Billy said. "When are your rehearsals?"
"Wednesday evenings," I said. "Typically they are over by 9:30 or 10:00, but once and a while they go late. That usually is when we have a major performance coming up."
"Well I have a cousin who can watch for you," Billy said. "Skeeter usually watches the door, so we don't get any drunks in. I can tell him to keep an eye out for customers who don't know their manners. As I said, I don't want any trouble. We've been neighbors for years and never had a problem." I had a chance to glance at Billy's tightly packed jeans. The glance turned into a stare.
"You like what you see?" Billy asked. I'm not that shy.
"How much of that is cock and how much balls?"I asked.
"I've never done a mathematical estimate, but I'm not opposed to a little show and tell," Billy replied as he looked at my crotch. "Unless you do something about that bulge in your pants, you'll get wrinkled." I looked down and saw I was getting hard. I had been so preoccupied with Billy's equipment, I hadn't realized my own state. I looked around the office, uneasily.
Billy smiled. "This is a gay bar. There's no reason to be timid," he said, as he began to unbutton his shirt. "If you are into old hair balls, I'm the guy for you." I began to take my shirt off too. Both of us liked what we were seeing.
Billy unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. He wasn't wearing underwear. A solid, thick, uncut sausage rested on bull balls. A big lump in the foreskin showed where the cock head rested. I wore underwear, but it slipped off quickly. I have nothing to be ashamed of. My shaft is thick, tapering to a modest cock head. My balls were smaller than Billy's, but hung way lower.
"It's nice to see a beefy man who's packing some real meat," Billy said. "Everyone gets the cards he dealt, but it's fun to find a full house. You know what to do with that thing?" he asked as he came over to me and fondled my balls. "Nice and heavy. Are they full?" I stroked Billy's cock and pulled the skin back exposing the cock head. By now Billy was well on the way to being hard and the erection did nothing to reduce his appeal to me.
"Is this how you attract customers?" I asked.
"Not at all," Billy replied. "There ain't enough cum in my balls to keep them happy. I keep work and pleasure apart. When I first got here, I made that mistake. Somehow guys you fuck seem to think drinks are free. You can't run a business that way."
"I see your point. You're a top?"
"Mostly, unless I'm inspired," Billy said.
"I'm the same way, 70-80% a top. Somehow I do get more inspired than I use too," I admitted. "My mind wants one thing but my cock wants another. Technically, I guess it's my prostate that has other plans." By now both of us were rock hard. When a bead of precum emerged on Billy's cock, I swished it around with my finger. In the dim light the bloated gland shimmered.
"I've got an apartment upstairs," Billy said, "Let's go and get more comfortable."
"We can go naked?"
"Sure, this is my place," Billy replied. "Cousin Skeeter's up there, but you'll like him if you like `em big and he sure as hell will like you. You're not the shy type are you?"
"Not that I recall." I answered. "He's big?"
Billy smiled. He seemed to know my interests. "Skeeter's not the sophisticated type, but he's very accommodating, if you get my drift. Friendly to a fault, but not much of a looker."
"He needs to be naked to see his good points?" I asked.
"He had only one good point, but it's a doozy," Billy replied. "He had two good places to shove a point though. He's a horny bastard, but I don't let him play with the clientele, so he'll be ripe and ready." I followed Billy up the back stairs and through a door. The apartment was bright, clean and nicely furnished. It was simple, but nice. Most of the furniture was country pieces, simple and handsome.
"I never would have guessed this was here," I said. "It's not what I expected."
"My daddy made the furniture," Billy said, "When he died, I got the stuff my brothers didn't want. They liked the new stuff. I got the old."
"You lucked out."
"That's the way I see it," Billy replied. A tall, thin and gangly man entered the room. He was naked.
"Shit Billy, you should tell me when you bring company home!" he exclaimed. The man was covered in mouse brown hair and looked as if he had been assembled by a drunken puppeteer. He had a cock that must have been eight inches soft.
"This is Wally, Skeeter," Billy said. "We're planning to have ourselves a little fun. Would you like to play utility?"
"Sure. He's pretty. Nice meat too," Skeeter replied. Our trio went to the bedroom. Skeeter attached himself to my cock as soon as he could.
"I assume you suck?" Billy asked. I nodded.
"Damn, Skeeter's good. What's his secret?"
"No teeth," Billy answered. "Lost them in an accident. He can't eat corn on the cob, but he's been able to make do. We have only one rule here. Ask first. I like to fuck. I like to be fucked. Skeeter's the same. You?"
"I like both," I replied.
"We're big boys. Do you think you can take us?"
"I like a challenge," I said.
"I think it's nice to give a guy some warning when you're going to shoot," Billy said. "I like cock caviar as much as anyone, but sometimes you need to get ready."
"Same for shooting in the ass?"
"Sure. It's nice to ask. I like to watch a guy shoot off," Billy said. I pulled out of Skeeter's mouth.
"I'm too close, I need to hold back some," I said. Looking down I saw Skeeter's erect cock. "Shit. That meat should be in the Smithsonian! It's hard to believe it's real."
"Why don't you suck on it some and I'll lube you up," Billy said, "unless you'd like to pop me? You may not have noticed, but I'm not much of a romantic. I figure we're into the same thing and we might as well be frank about it."
"Skeeter took my cock to the edge a minute ago; it needs a rest," I said.
"Skeeter you get on the bed so Wally can suck you. Get the poppers out of the side table in case he needs them," Billy said. "Wally, you bend over and suck on Skeeter. He oozes a lot, if you're into that." I bent over and began to nurse on Skeeter's meat. It was a natural wonder.
I'm not exactly a virgin and I have had some experience with big cocks. Some cocks are so big they don't get hard all the way. Scrawny skeeter had no problem getting hard and staying hard. It was wide and thin, except for the cum tube on the underside. The head was the size of one of those oversized strawberries you find in the supermarket. Unlike the strawberries, his cock was soft and oozing sweet ball juice.
While I sucked, Billy worked lubricant into my ass. Billy was an ass man. I like to fuck, but to me the ass is just a necessary part of fucking. I get turned on by cock, not ass holes. Billy liked the hole. Not only did he like ass holes, he was downright flattering about mine. He liked the pink rosebud in the middle and the swirling hair on my ass. He said my ass was just tight enough as the toyed with the rosebud, pushing it into the hole with his finger.
"It's funny," he said. "I know you've had quite a few cocks in there, but each new cock is exciting, isn't it? I come form a place called Wilson's Hollow and my Uncle Frank was the first man to pop my cherry. He was slow and careful, but he was big. It was hard going, but it was worth it. A month or two later my Daddy did me, then my Uncles Joey and Johnny. Every one was just as exciting."
"I can feel you heart pounding and I know what your feeling," Billy continued. "You can never tell when a man's organ's going to hit the spot and send you to the moon. You'd think that having a man shove his piss spigot into your shit tunnel would be an unlikely scenario for pleasure, wouldn't you? Every time it happens, it's a miracle." As he said that I felt his cock head at my hole. He pressed a few times, but my ass wouldn't give way.
"Give him a sniff of the Jungle Juice, Skeeter," Billy ordered. "Wally needs some encouragement." Skeeter held the small bottle to my nose and I took a deep snort. The second I relaxed, Billy was in. As his cock entered my ass I swallowed far more of Skeeter's cock that I would have thought possible.
You never know, but Billy's cock was a good fit. It was comfortable as if it had been meant to fit in my ass. We fucked for a good ten or twelve minutes, then Billy pulled out.
"Damn, all of this ass play has caused an itching feeling in my hole, can you help me out, Wally?" Billy asked. I was more than ready. He was on his back with his legs hoisted on my shoulders and I poked at his hole. My friends say I have a stealth cock. Most cocks have a big head and a smaller shaft. My cock head is small, but the shaft is thicker and gets thicker the deeper I go. It's like an oak tree trunk.
The first three inches of my cock were easy. The last four weren't. It took Billy some tine to get use to it, but once he did he was a wild man. Every movement I made generated a reaction for him. I slowed up a few times to let him catch his breath.
Skeeter got behind me. "Relax, Wally," he said, "I'm going to goose you some." My ass was well lubricated from Billy's fucking. He scrunched down and got his cock directly under my hole. My cock was embedded to my curly hairs in Billy's ass, so I had no where to go. He had the poppers with him, so he gave me a snort. As he did, he rose up, impaling me on his cock.
I didn't know if I was coming or going. With ten inches in my ass and my own seven in Billy, it was hard to tell which cock was generating which feeling. "I'm shooting!" I cried. Pulling out I sprayed Billy's hairy chest with a pint or two of prime man seed. Billy shot off as my seed landed on him. He said he liked to watch a man shoot and now I knew what he meant.
My mind was confused and I was disoriented. I heard Billy say. "Keep on pumping Skeeter, let him down easy."
"Things are bubbling up, Cousin Billy," Skeeter moaned. "I'm going to give his prostate a cum bath!" Skeeter began to violently jerk as the man juice shot from his organ. The jerks diminished and he pulled out. We were all still on the bed, except for Skeeter who still twitched with aftershock ejaculations.
"Shit Wally. I hope that was half as good for you as it was for me," Billy said.
"It was damn good," I said.
"I'm not sure I've ever fucked anyone as upscale as you before, Wally," Billy said. "I've never run into a red neck who was quite as into the possibilities as you are. Are there any other guys next door who are like you?"
I didn't say anything. Billy correctly took that as a yes.
"I told you I don't play with the customers, but I sure wouldn't mind doing this again with you and any friends who are like you," Billy said. "I wouldn't mind that at all."