Guys 4
By Bald Hairy Man e-mail bldhrymn@aol.com or bldhrymn@excite.com
This is an adult story intended for adults. It is a fantasy, so I again remind you that I have done away with the requirements of safe sex, and have included no gestures toward common sense either. Please e-mail me if you have any suggestions or comments.
We spent the rest of the day reinforcing the sand bags. The guy running the bulldozer broke his foot and Bob learned how to run the machine. The river crested and all of our work did the trick. The plant was saved. We spent that night sleeping on the floor of the office. The back road to the Chief's house had flooded. The next morning a boat came to pick us up and get us home.
Much to our surprise, we were heroes. The next town down the river lost its filtration plant and was drinking bottled water for three months. The local newspapers tried to focus the attention on Will, the quarterback of the football team, but Will didn't let them. It was a joint effort of the jocks and nerds and Will gave credit where credit was due.
No mention was made of our adventures with the Chief and Sarge. To this day I'm not sure we would have been recognized as saving the water plant, if they had known we were gay. We had all discovered a lot about ourselves and gay sex, but we soon discovered something else.
Liking sex, and finding time to have it, isn't the same thing. If I could have spent a day a week at the Chief's house learning something new about sex, or just practicing what we had already learned, I would have been really happy. It didn't happen. There were too many things we had to do for us or the Chief to hook up again. It was downright aggravating.
We did manage to get together several times at my house or at Bob's. My parents both worked, so I had some free time in the afternoon. This was okay but not as good. I was always on the lookout for Mom or Dad to return early, so we were never as comfortable as we were at the Chief's house.
After the excitement of the flood and the wild morning at the Chief's house, we were in a long sexual dry spell. Fortunately there was the award. The mayor had put our name in for an award given to teenage volunteers. Will and I won it and the prize was a trip to Washington, D.C. We would be able to do some site seeing and get the award presented by our Senator.
We didn't want to take the award without crediting our friends, and we weren't sure we should take it. There wasn't enough money for us all to go. Coach Masters solved the problem. His family was from Northern Virginia and had a house there. His parents were in Florida from Halloween to Easter and we could stay at the house. We could all go.
Coach Master's would take us with the art teacher, Bernie Wilburson riding shot gun. It was supposed to be Mrs. Evans, the Vice Principal, but she got the flu. Bernie was to keep us focused on culture and the Coach was to make sure the house survived our visit. We got time off from school and took the week before Thanksgiving. We left on Saturday morning and got to Washington by three.
Coach Master's house was a surprise. He always seemed like an ordinary guy. It was a big farm house originally, but it dated from the early 1800s and was beautifully restored. We thought it was a southern plantation, but Coach said it was just a nice farm house. Coach's dad was a retired State Department employee. I didn't know what an Assistant Secretary was then, but I soon realized it was way up near the top of the State Department.
To the rear of the house there was a slave's quarters. It was converted into a house for Roger. He was an old friend of the Coach. He looked after the house when the family was away. He was writing a novel, Coach said.
We drove into the city that night and saw all the monuments illuminated. It was beautiful. We must have seen pictures of the city hundreds of times, but the real thing was spectacular. Then we ate in a restaurant in Georgetown. I knew it wasn't a fancy restaurant, there were Georgetown students and a lot of young people there, but it was a different world from our hometown. Driving home, we stopped at the Lincoln Memorial and went in. It was all but empty and awe inspiring as we wandered around the vast temple.
We returned to the Coach's house fairly late and worked out the sleeping arrangements. There was a big room over the back wing that was called the dorm. It housed all the boys in the family and any of their friends who were sleeping over. The Coach explained the house was considered to be way out in the country when he was growing up and there usually were between four and six guys in the room over the weekend. The room had a big shower.
The guest room slept two as did the Coach's sister's room. They shared a communicating bath. The master bedroom was off limits. Larry and Lou took the guest room, Bernie and I were in the sister's room. Bob, Will, Lon and Eddie took the dorm with Coach.
I had hopes for some sex, but I didn't know Mr. Wilburson at all and I knew the Coach never played with his team. I guessed the trip would be purely educational and inspiring. I was in bed when Mr. Wilburson came in. He slowly undressed.
Bernie was fortyish, tall, and balding. He always seemed to be a bit ungainly, as if the pieces of his body didn't always fit. We thought of him as an Icabod Crane type of man. I had not made the association between baldness and body hair, but Bernie had more hair on his chest than on his head and he was more muscular than I had guessed. He must have worked out.
I asked him if he knew Washington well. He said no, he had been here once when he was ten, but he had done a quick study when he was assigned to come with us.
"I have a full schedule!" he said. "Coach knows the place well and said it was a good plan."
"No free time?" I asked.
"Until we meet the Senator. On Monday she is taking us to lunch in the Senate Dining room. Then we will play it by ear." he said. "I don't like the idea of teenagers on their own in a big city, but Chief Sullivan said you were good boys." He paused. "Trustworthy too, Chief Sullivan said."
"Is the Chief a good friend of yours?" I asked cautiously. He looked me in the eye.
"Not close, but we have the same interests." Bernie said slowly. "He told me how much he had enjoyed your little get-togethers."
"They were great." I said. "Everyone had a good time."
"Everyone?" Bernie asked as he slipped his under shorts off and I saw his cock. "Is everyone with the program? You could get in big trouble if there was someone who wasn't a member of the fraternity."
"Everyone." I replied. No body parts seemed to match on Bernie. That included his cock. It looked thicker than his arm and hung to his knees. I couldn't believe it was real. "The guys don't talk about it, we just do it. No problem." He stroked is cock, pulling the skin back to expose his head.
"That's what the Chief said. I'm not into kids, but the Chief said I should make an exception for you guys." Bernie pulled the skin over the head again. "Not many guys can do much with my horse cock, but he thought you guys would give it a try."
"It's huge!" I blurted out. The door to the bathroom was cracked. From the other room Lou cried, "What's huge!"
"Would they like to see it?" he whispered.
"Shit yes!"
"Call them in."
"Lou, Larry. Come on over here. Bernie wants to show you something." I called. They appeared, wearing only jockey shorts. They were awestruck. Their jockeys began to tent.
"Is it real?" Lou asked.
"You can touch it if you have any doubts." Bernie said. That was all the invitation we needed. Bernie turned out to be a sexual playground. He was a sexual jungle gym with room for three. Larry and I shared his shaft while Lou worked on his balls. Bernie liked everything, would do anything, enjoyed everything. He was glad to have us suck him, and liked sucking us.
Bernie told us the Chief had given a complete description of our interests, so he got down to heavy sex without the exploratory preliminaries. He told us he didn't mind if we fucked him and he loved to finger fuck. His cock was spectacular, but seemed way too big to me.
He lubricated Lou and my ass while Larry lubricated him. It was odd. I wasn't attracted to him, just fascinated by his cock. It was so big and almost lumpy with veins protruding. He wasn't particularly attracted to me. We were all having sex for fun, not love. That is not such a bad thing. Strangely the sex was more fun. I was turned on by the Chief, but was afraid I was going to do something wrong, or might irritate him. I didn't care about Bernie and he didn't care for us. It was just fun and we all worked to get as much enjoyment out of each others cocks as we could.
He got Larry and me to get on our knees on each side of him, so he could work his finger into our asses. We held his legs, so Lou could fuck him. Lou popped into Bernie's ass easily and Bernie began to finger my ass. Lou liked playing the top a lot. He was very masculine, but not particularly well hung. I watched his dick slip in Bernie's ass and realized how important real sexual excitement was. Lou's cock must have been a size bigger than I had ever seen it before.
I was admiring this feature when Bernie's long knobby finger found my prostate and I lost control of my feelings. Bernie knew his way around an ass and he must have found the magic button that turned me on. Wave after wave of sensation overwhelmed me. I began wiggling and squirming. The feelings were so intense I wanted to get relief from the probing, but as soon as I did I wanted to feel it again.
I glanced over to Larry who was doing the same dance on Bernie's other hand. Larry's eyes were rolled back and his mouth was open in a silent moan. He was feeling the same thing I was. Bernie suddenly removed his fingers. I felt like a balloon that had been popped.
"You boys are good." he said, "Chief said that." Lou had stopped his pumping. "You don't need to stop, Lou." Bernie said. "It takes a long time for me to shoot. You're doing just fine." "What in hell did you do to me?" Larry exclaimed. "I've never felt anything like it before."
"You boys just had a prostate massage." Bernie said. "I've always thought the prostate is the forgotten sex organ. It's kind of hard to get to, so it doesn't get used much."
"What in hell does it do?" I asked.
"Scientifically I don't exactly know. I think it adds lubricant to the sperm so it will flow easily." Bernie explained. "It's soft and squishy until just before to have an orgasm. I can feel it fill and get rock hard just before you pop. I guess when you finger fuck it, or ram it with your dick it gets firmer and your brain thinks you are nearer an orgasm than you really are. That's why the feelings are so intense." He paused. "Are you ready for another ride?" He knew the answer.
"Can you try it on me? " Lou asked. Bernie laughed.
"I don't have three arms." he said. "If one of you guys would like to take a turn in my ass, that's fine with me." Larry and Lou exchanged places. It was hard for me to believe we were squatting on the bed, so one of our teachers could shove his finger in our ass holes.
"I'm going to use a vice grip on you this time. I was afraid you might get away from me the last session." Bernie seemed to have this down to a science. Lou and I held Bernie's legs up and Larry deep dicked him on the first thrust. This time Bernie used two fingers in the ass and his thumb on the base of the cock. My genitals were in a viselike grip and were totally under his control.
"You boys can be my finger puppets." he said. I felt like a puppet. He adjusted his grip and squeezed, poked and prodded until I was crazy with ecstasy. It was unbelievably good.
I really don't know what happened next, but it was so enjoyable I couldn't concentrate, or even approach thinking about it. It was a rush of sensations and emotions that controlled me. I felt Lou's cum splatter on my gut and I did the same. The first few shots hit Lou's chest, the rest dribbled on Bernie's chest. Larry pulled out just in time to shoot his entire load across Bernie's chest and gut. Bernie released his grip and we collapsed on the bed.
Everyone except Bernie had cum. I offered to suck him off, but he said he liked to shoot it in an ass.
"It's so big. How do you find guys who can take it?" I asked. I was shocked at my frankness, but Bernie didn't seem to mind.
"There are a few. My problem is that it's difficult for me to cum. The Chief thinks it's because it's so big it needs the tight ass of a quivering bottom to get the whole thing stimulated."
"Can he take it?"
"Yes, but it wasn't very good for him. Sarge loves it." Bernie said. "I like my partner to be as excited as I am. That's the problem. Sarge says I would be a terrible rapist. I don't like to force anyone to do anything."
"I guess that's a good thing." Lou said. He had a problem with the Chief's cock, Bernie's was out of the question. As Bernie lost his erection, his cock changed from being almost grotesque to merely huge. I felt a tingling in my ass I didn't fully understand until later.
We all went to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night and went over to Bernie's bed and began to suck him. Even soft it was a mouthful. He patted my head and just let me suck it. I was really getting to like Bernie.
Breakfast was early the next day. Coach wanted to get to the Metro stop early, so we could get in a full day of site seeing. We got to the nearest station and we got on the train. It was crowded, so Will and I sat together in another car. I told him we had a really good night. He knew what I meant.
"I never got to know Mr. Wilburson before. He's a neat guy." I said.
"Coach is just as strict as always."Will said, then he lowered his voice. "He didn't do much, but he didn't mind watching. He said Roger might join us tonight, if we wanted some guidance."
"Roger must know Washington well."
"He's a writer, Coach said. He looks for new experiences." Will continued. "Apparently Roger is the black sheep of his family, but he's been everywhere and done everything, including a few trips to what Coach called "the wild side". Very open minded."
We got off the train at the Smithsonian station and took an escalator to the surface. It was a beautiful fall day and we broke into two groups. Bernie took one group to the National Gallery and the History Museum, and Coach did the Air and Space side of the Mall. We were going to switch after lunch.
My dad always said the 18 year old kids know everything. They spend the rest of their life learning what they don't know. My day at the Smithsonian was the beginning of my discovery of just how much I didn't know. The place is vast and encyclopedic. I was okay in the History and Natural History Museums, but the National Gallery was a world I knew nothing of. It had many Rembrandts and a Leonardo daVinci. I had seen pictures of the Mona Lisa. Vermeer and Turner were names I had never even heard, not to mention studied.
Bernie was good. He seemed to know it all. Not just the names, but the life stories and the history behind many of the paintings. I realized this was a part of life I had no clue about. I also realized it was a big jump to go from a nice small town to a center of western civilization. Television gives you a false sense of knowing. There was a huge gap between the media images of a place, or a life style and being there and experiencing it.
Lon was in the group with Bernie and didn't like the art stuff. He thought Washington was too big and while it was nice to visit, it would be nicer to be home. I loved it. We had a late lunch at an overpriced cafeteria and met at the Air and Space museum. Coach took us for the afternoon.
Coach turned out to be a good guide. He knew the museums well and it was a fun afternoon. By four, we were dead tired and we rested on the benches on the Mall. Will and I were with Coach and the other guys were scattered.
"How many museums have we done today?"Will asked.
"This is a plan Bernie, I mean Mr. Wilburson, and I cooked up." Coach explained. "The idea is to give you a quick overview of the museums and then come back later in the week and let you go to the place you like the most. Today is a museum sampler. Tonight we will eat at home. Roger is making dinner."
"Does Roger cook?" Will asked.
"Roger does everything. He's a jack of all trades and master of none." Coach said. "He's never quite carried through with anything. He's a good cook, but not a great one. That's the way his writing is. Good but not great."
"You are friends?" I asked.
"We were more than that at one time, but I had to go on with my life and he was still looking." Coach explained. "He's never quite made a living. That's why he's here. He's the perfect person for my parents to live in the slave's quarters and watch over the place." Coach paused and spoke under his breath. "Roger likes young guys and the Chief said you all deserved a good time. You'll all get to know him better tonight. Bernie said you had a good time last night?"
"We sure did." I replied. "Real good!"
"Well, if you like Bernie, you'll love Roger." he said.