Intimate Investigations 5
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 month later I had an invitation from Buckskin to spend a weekend at his cabin in the Blue Ridge. He also invited Lonnie and a special friend. I accepted. A week later I picked up Lonnie at his new home near his parents and went to "Buckskin Lodge." It was your basic million-dollar log cabin.
There were two special friends, Sanford, and the pool boy, Buck. Sanford could be cast as a typical American businessman in any movie. He was average in every way. The pool boy was tall, muscular, and quiet. Two of Buckskin's pals, Jody and Johnny dropped in. I assumed they were invited but would leave if it wasn't their scene.
Buckskin has a small indoor swimming pool. The pool made it easy to transition from guys just getting together and sex since the pool was heated and nude. No one in the group was uneasy being nude. No one was shy and we all knew what we wanted for the afternoon's entertainment. Sanford was more attractive naked than he had been dressed.
Buck was handsome, a young Nordic God type. He had trouble talking, but he made up for that with his interest in sex. Sanford and Buckskin kept an eye on him and made sure he was always comfortable. It would be more correct to say that Sanford kept one eye on Buck and one eye on me and my cock. Everyone other than Lonnie was butch. Lonnie was funny and his commodious ass was designed to make friends.
Jody and Johnny were muscular bear types. Jody was short and Johnny was tall and heavy set. The afternoon in the pool was a get acquainted session. It wasn't a beauty pageant. We were all just guys who liked sex. Everyone knew why we were there. Johnny was a big bear and was half hard most of the time. He swam over to me. "You're the private dick?" he asked. He reached out and fondled my cock and balls.
"Yes, but for this weekend I'm planning to provide a public dick," I said. By then my cock was erect.
"Sucker, fucker or versatile?" he asked.
"All of the above," I answered. "What about you?"
"I am a sucker and I top most of the time," he replied, adding, "I do open my back door for a friendly game of prostate tag." He leaned close to me. "My pal, Jody gets turned on likes to clean my hole after a buff and shine."
"I assume he takes it up the ass like a man?" I asked.
"Let's just say he told me he wished we had been twins so I could have fucked him in the womb," Johnny replied.
I smiled and said, "He's the friendly type?"
Johnny burst out in a belly laugh.
It was clear everyone like sex, and that no one was shy. We had volleyball game in the pool. Buck was the best player on my team, and Lonnie was the best player on Buckskins' team. Buck was a natural athlete. Lonnie was a surprise. He told me that at summer camp he had problems, until his volleyball skills became evident. He was a gawky, scarecrow like boy, but kids could forgive that if you were good at volleyball.
We had a losers suck the winners awards ceremony. I sucked Buckskin and added a special touch by swallowing his load. Buckskin had a vocal orgasm, so everyone knew. Buck sucked Lonnie and soon the winners all had to refill their balls.
Johnny manned the barbeque. He was one of those men who knew exactly when to take the stakes off the grill. I had a suspicion that Buckskin didn't buy the stakes from the discount aisle. After dinner Buckskin wanted to have a sing along. That wasn't my cup of tea, but I turned out to be a porn sung along. Both Buckskin and Lonnie had a vast store of traditional song modified to be risqué, dirty, or grotesquely obscene. They were also clever and unexpected. A few beers added to the festive atmosphere.
Sanford went to bed with Buckskin, so Buck came with me. I was a little surprised that Lonnie spent the night with Jody and Johnny.
Before Buck joined me, Sanford told me Buck' story. Bucks mother had a problem at birth, and he was born with a serious problem. She was a good woman. Sally and Sanford helped as much as they could. When his mother died, they took care of him and gave him the best treatments and education available.
Buck discovered sex at a school for special children the wrong way. When Sanford found out, he brought him home. Buck wanted a daddy and Sanford had been the most daddy like man he knew. Sanford was his choice. One night Buck got in bed with him. Sex was easy to learn at school and Buck had been fucked. He tried fucking Sanford and they both loved it. Sanford was the first to like taking his cock.
He was excited by his volleyball triumph and being with friendly men. I went to bed and fell asleep with Buck's cock up my ass. I woke up with his cock in my ass. He pulled out and wanted me to fuck him. He thought that was fair. He thought my cock was different from Sanford's cock, but it was good.
After a hearty breakfast, four more men joined us. Boomer and Clyde were members of the band that sometimes joined with Buckskin on a gig. Boomer played the drums and Clyde the violin. Boomer was an otter, a thin hairy man. Clyde looked like a drugged-up hippy. The other two men were Ray, a Park Ranger, and Doggy, a Sheriffs deputy. Ray was obviously a jogger. I had a feeling Doggy's exercise consisted of walking into McDonalds to get coffee rather than using the drive-up window.
We were going to take a hike, but Johnny asked if I could stay behind. He wanted to talk with me about something. I agreed. Johnny, Jody, Ray, and Doggy stayed behind. When the other men left, we stripped and got in the pool. Johnny was uneasy about recording devices. Nudity took care of that problem. Ray was handsome. Doggy was big and hairy. There was some muscle hidden mixed with the fat.
Johnny and Jody's neighbors had been investing in a real estate deals developing mountain homes for wealthy people in Washington and Baltimore. The neighbors would get 20% of the value of their property in cash up front, and the rest of the value in stock. While Johnny looked like the incredible hulk after a bender, but he was smart. The actual bill of sale was clear about the cash, but the 80% payment had no date and no mention of default. They were selling their property for a song. The agreement was exceptionally complex and convoluted. It was like signing an agreement in a foreign language.
The board of directors of the development corporation included the County Judge and the Sherriff. That reassured the sellers that the operation was legitimate. Ray was a Park Ranger for the Blue Ridge Parkway. He thought the land was protected from development and the landowners received a massive reduction in the value of the property in agreements dating to the 1940s. If the reneged on the deal, past property taxes had to be paid by the owner who received the benefit.
Courthouse gangs were once typical in Virginia. They were run by older, wealthy, families for their own benefit. While most counties broke free of the courthouse gangs, East Jefferson County was very rural and escaped development and as well as population growth. The Sherriff or judge would overlook your son's drunk driving or a misunderstanding with a girl who should have known better. This insured votes at the next election. The Sherriff's shady real estate deals were not a problem if your son didn't go to jail.
Jonathan was worried the original landowners would be wiped out financially. He thought it was a scam and hoped that land would be restored to the owners. The problem was that the judges, town councils. Police department were cousins or pals.
In some was this was typical of the county. The original development included West Jefferson County. That development included the rich agricultural land in the Shenandoah Valley. The developers failed to mention they did not own the Western area.
Ray had access to all the old park development information. He thought the Feds would be interested, but he needed more than Johnny's suspicions. I agreed to work on it.
It was nice to work on a job that did not involve sex. This was a plain old real state scam. They were interested in me because I had no connection to the county. There was a joke that all the residents were cousins. That was close to the truth. I was a total stranger. Doggy was our connection to the Sherriff and judge. He was possibly the son of one or the other, depending which man's sperm hit the bull's eye thirty years ago. Neither man knew nor cared about his mom, who committed suicide shortly after Doggy's birth. He was raised by his grandmother.
We transitioned into sex. I was hoping I would connect with Ray. Doggy got my cock into his mouth, and I soon wondered if he had an advanced degree in cock sucking. Part of that was technique. Doggy seemed to have seriously studied cocks and how to stimulate them. He wasn't a crazed cock sucker, but I sensed he was studying my cock to find what rang my chimes. We switched to the sixty-nine position, and I realized that when I my cock reacted to his sucking, his cock spurted some extra precum. Later when I fucked him, it felt as if his ass was massaging my cock as I pushed deep into him.
When the hikers returned in the early afternoon, we had another nude volleyball game. Boomer and Ray joined Buck and Lonnie as Volleyball stars. Afterwards, the sex was calm, relaxed, and intensely pleasurable.
Buck spent the night with Sanford, and I was with Doggy and Buckskin. We actually got some sleep. The sex had been so intense, we all but passed out. We shared dawn orgasms, had breakfast, and fucked and sucked to eleven when I went home.
On Monday I asked Doug to do some checking on the situation in East Jefferson County. While it looked like a beautiful rural retreat from the 1950ies, it was a cesspool politically. Some of it was just traditional, pre-integration attitudes. They didn't treat black people badly due to race. They never considered black people at all.
Doug thought there were other problems. The county was on the edge of the thriving counties of Northern Virginia. If you had suspect business, locating your business in East Jefferson County was a good choice. A small contribution to the Sherriff's political campaign conferred immunity to your business.
Buckskin owned Bucks Hardware store. Buckskin's real name was Edgar F. Buck III. Buckskin was his school nickname. Bucks was the only non-chain hardware store in the county. It was successful because Bucks Hardware delivered. It was about the same price, but to take two hours off from a project and drive to the store was a chore. The big stores delivered truckful's of construction materials, but nothing under five-or six-hundred-dollar orders. If you have a small order, you used Bucks. Sending a high paid carpenter to pick up nails or some hardware was a waste.
I became a van driver delivering small orders. Finding your way in the small roads was a problem, but Buckskin had a map for the location of every client. Buck's Hardware store was fully computerized and efficient. I got a list of deliveries, with maps, and arranged in the most efficient routes. I also had a good way to be anywhere in the county without suspicion. I told people I wanted to avoid the big cities like Lynchburg or Roanoke. That made sense to people in the county.
There was another nice thing about the county. While Bucks had a dish, internet service was rare and undependable. It was hard for anyone to check up on me.
I met a lot of people on my first days delivering supplies. Some were just people trying to fix something on their house. There were a lot of small to medium building contractors, electrician, plumbers, and painters. Everyone knew and liked Buckskin.
There were several gaps in the scheduling. I discovered the men I delivered to before the gaps, were some of Buckskins special friends. Old Man Connors was the first of these men. He lived off the road in ramshackle wood cabin. He was sitting on the porch flanked by two big dogs and dressed in construction boots, cut off shorts and suspenders.
The shorts were short, and his cock and balls hung low. "Buckskin told me to offer you a drink and a sandwich, if you want them," he said.
"I would like some water, if that not a problem," I replied. He told me to come on in. The dogs came in with him.
"Buckskin told me you are a member of the fraternity. I hope I wasn't showing too much on the porch," he said as he poured me a glass of water."
"I'm not sure I have ever encountered too much cock," I replied.
He laughed. "My momma told me that you should always put your best foot forward. When you look like me, the closest thing to being a best foot, is hanging between my legs," he explained adding, "Buckskin didn't tell me if you were a sucker or fucker."
"I check the box for all of the above," I replied. Old Man Connors was built like the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz, if you substituted hair for straw. I soon discovered that his body was all muscle and that his cock could have won the Academy Award if they gave awards for cock size. Old Man Connors was a clever, intelligent man masquerading as a country bumpkin.
His cock was not a part his country bumpkin disguise. It was completely functional, as was his oversized sex drive. I am not as virginal as I might be, but keeping up with his sexual frenzy was a challenge. I suspected it was a test, and I passed the test easily.
As I left on my next delivery Old Man Connors asked me to visit him shortly. He wanted to have a long talk. By the end of the day, I discovered that the delivery man provided sexual relief for several of the customers. Fortunately, Buckskin had good taste in playmates and his tastes matched my own.
East Jefferson County had been a little-known backwater, with few new residents. That had caused some problems with intermarriage and birth defects. Fucking a male relative has no unwanted side effects i.e., children. No one said anything about it, but man on man sex was not a problem.
I had dinner at the Jefferson Tavern, the only real restaurant in town. I ate in the Men's Grill. It served the same food as the restaurant, but you didn't need to be dressed. The main dining room was for businessmen and birthday dinners for your parents. I was shocked by the food. It was good. It was standard restaurant food of forty years ago, but it was souped up with herbs and spices. There was a note that the steaks would be medium rare, unless requested by the guest.
As I left, an obviously drunk man was getting loud and obnoxious with the woman he was with. The woman was seating guests, came in from the main dining room and asked him to leave. The man smacked the woman across the face.
I was embarrassed, since I should have seen that coming. I had a slight tussle with the drunk. I asked the waitress to call the police, and mentioned the man was drunk, made an unprovoked assault, and he might have a dislocated shoulder, or two.
The chef was a woman who had emerged from the kitchen with a meat cleaver. I may have inadvertently saved the drunk's life. The police knew the man. The drunk tried to say that he was attacked, but there were twenty to twenty-five witnesses, including several members of the local ministerial association.
The owner and the chef thanked me. I told them it was no problem; I didn't like bullies much. A reporter came by after I left. No one got my name, but my quote about bullies made it into the paper.
The route the next day was deeper into the Blue Ridge. It was a twisting road, some more like a dirt trail. It was beautiful country, but I had to keep my eye on the road. These were county roads and there were no guard rails, and in a few cases the exact location of the road was unclear.
The lunch stop was at a Mr. Green's farm. Green's farm had vanished decades earlier. There was a house owned by Doggy's cousin, Dusty. I felt a little like I was in a rejected plot for Petticoat Junction. Dusty was at least ten years older than Doggy. I had a replacement pump for his water supply. Dusty was a happy man.
I had a sandwich and a good cup of coffee. "Doggy told me you were a good guy," Dusty said. "He said you had a lot of fun." I said we got along well.
"I taught Doggy everything he knows about pleasing a man. He told me your cock was the best thing he ever felt up his ass," Dusty said. "Doggy used to think that I had the best cock. I was a little disappointed about that, but now that I see you, I think it might just be an opportunity."