Life After Being a Child Star 4
Bald Hairy Man
This is pure fantasy. If you are offended by stories about gay men and gay sex, or if you are under age, DO NOT READ IT. It is not a guide to safe sexual techniques. It does not depict real men, or real situations. It does not depict necessary safe sex practices. Fantasy characters can do anything they want, real men can not!
I was getting used to my life with a new job, a new house, and new friends. I was fitting into the school, and I enjoyed teaching. My parents' death had shocked me. I hadn't been 100% sure that I would ever break free of their controlling skills. When someone has control of your life, it hard to break free. My new house was a blessing. I was in a new place and new environment. It was mine and there was no connection to my parents.
The biggest change in my life was to have friends. For years almost all the people I knew were related to the television show. My new friends knew nothing about my background. These friends had one spectacular added attraction. They were gay and horny as hell.
I hadn't had social life or a sex life. I discovered that sucking on the cock of a man you barely know is a good icebreaker. Eating his sperm with obvious enthusiasm moves you from the icebreaker stage to the intimate level of friendship damn fast.
After the first few trips to the showers after the early mornings swim, I became really close to my fellow swimmers. I had no close friends before I met Wilbur, Rudy and Rodney. Through them I met George and Rambo. Wilbur introduced me to Jeff, and Jeff connected me to Ed and Edgar. Edgar connected me to Lafayette.
A stranger looking at these men would note they were all gay and all were either over-sexed, or incredibly over-sexed. We were all good men and had professional lives. This didn't change, but for me adding a sex life to the mix was wonderful.
I had a some impact on Good Shepherd Academy. The school did an annual evaluation of faculty, that included student input. My class was well rated, and the comments included the words, "interesting and enjoyable." That had been a rarity. Rodney got a few "inspirational" comments. Rudy got a "difficult, but fair," and a "challenging."
I found out that any positive comments on a teacher was rare. "Dry, boring, and desiccated," were more typical. I assumed the desiccated comment came from a future English Major. Rodney, Rufus and I were called "the Boys," and we were regarded both as the most energetic of the teaching staff and we were the low men on the academic totem pole. Actually, Wilbur, George and Johnny were at the bottom. It was a girls' school.
The school had two big social events, the Christmas Ball and something called the Spring Fling. These were leftovers from the debutantes-in-training expectations of the past. The girls could have a date and dress-up. The events were popular with mothers and even more popular with grand-mothers. The boys came mostly from neighboring St. Francis School. It was all male and was three miles away. It had boarding students as well a day students. It focused on athletics for boys from "good" families.
All of the male members of the faculty had to attend the Ball. St. Francis tended to nurture aggressive boys. They also recruited students by size. Their football team was huge. They were also casual about under age drinking. There was a potential for a problem.
The event was in the dining room, which Rodney decorated and concealed its' cafeteria like ancestry well. It was pretty, although I thought it looked like a cotillion from the late 1950s. There was a balcony and the mothers and grand-mothers could watch.
While most of the boys came from St. Francis, there were boys from other schools there too. One of our older teachers, Mrs. Wilson, made the punch. After an hour and a half, I noticed a change in the atmosphere. Several students were clearly tipsy. We wondered if someone added alcohol to the punch.
Rodney and I went to the kitchen and found Mrs. Wilson passed out on the floor. Her head was bleeding, and it seemed that she had hit her head when she fell. Rodney felt her pulse and called the rescue squad.
There was a cooler by the service door with empty bottles of something labeled Mystic Moonshine.
Two brawny boys from St. Francis came in the side door with more bottles.
I was trying to stop the bleeding from Mrs. Wilson's head. Rodney went to confront the boys. They were a good foot taller and 100 pounds bigger than Rodney. Rodney was not intimidated, "What in hell do you think you are doing!"
"What it to you, pipsqueak!" One of the boys replied. Another huge boy came in the service door with more Mystic Moonshine.
"The party is over for you boys. Unless you leave now, your school career and probably your college career is over!" Rodney bellowed. Two of the boys stepped forward. By then Rudy, Ralph and Sarah came into the kitchen. George and Johnny came in through the service door.
Two of the boys lunged at Rodney. There was a very violent, very short fight. Five minutes later the boys had dislocated shoulders. Luckily, they did not require reconstructive surgery on their balls. Rodney had gone to an art school in a marginal part of a large city. He said he had learned pest control techniques for art students walking home in dark alleys. Ralph said that Rodney fought way above his weight class.
Sarah, George and Johnny took care of the guys to the rear. George said he liked maximum pain, with no permanent damage.
The rescue squad came along with the police. The boys claimed Rodney attacked them. Rodney is five-three, or four, and weighed 130 pounds immediately after Christmas dinner. They were carried off to jail. A number of the boys walked back to their school. The police were doing breathalyzer test to anyone driving.
The next day we learned that Mrs. Wilson had a minor heart attack. Bruises indicated that she hadn't fallen; she was attacked. I thought my efforts to stop her bleeding were ineffectual. They were more successful than I guessed. Sarah went with her to the hospital. The doctors told her that I had I stopped the worst of the bleeding for fifteen minutes. She could have been badly weaken by blood loss. The story was hushed up and nothing appeared in the paper or on TV. Upscale schools have their ways. There was no way to control gossip. Everyone knew what had happened and who did what. The Chairman of the board, headmaster, coaching staff and a portion of the faculty of St. Francis School resigned over the next few months as a refreshed Board cleaned house.
At our school, Sarah and George gave a popular course in self-defense. There was a change in the attitude of the students towards the teachers. We weren't just annoying people who tried to teach them things and made them do homework. We protected them. Most of them knew that getting them drunk wasn't the final objective of the night for the boys of St. Francis.
I got to know the local police. Detective Willy Franklin was the head man on the case. He specialized in juvenile crime. He was a big, unimpressive, redneck, man. He looked like a big lug and seemed a bit dense. That wasn't the case at all, but most of the kids he interviewed discovered that too late.
He interviewed me and I was clear and concise. I gave him just the facts, without opinions. Willy liked that. He was interested in the Mystic Moonshine. It was indeed moonshine and the maker was selling it to underage boys. I later found out that the moonshine operation was large and associated with underage prostitution and gambling. Once the boys told Willy where they bought the moonshine, Willard was a happy man.
That information scared the shit out of the parents who tended to be of the "boys will be boys" school of parenting. Mystic Moonshine was run by the mob.
Willy had worked for George years earlier. Apparently they exchanged notes on my sexual interests. Willy dropped by my house. He told me that the moonshine operation was shut down, and thanked me for my help. He told the students were a lot closer to getting into big time trouble than they realized. I asked if this was enough to scare them.
"It may be enough to scare the smarter ones," Willard said. "It's not enough to scare the guys who think they are the smart ones." He was briefly silent. "George told me you are a fun guy. The case is closed now, some fun is an option."
I smiled and asked, "Did George tell you I have a hard time resisting temptation?"
"I don't want to insult you, but he said you were both the best educated man he had been with and a total slut," Willard replied.
I laughed and said, "I didn't know he knew me that well!"
Ten minutes later I discovered that Willard was a different man when he was naked in the shower. Willard looked dumpy because he had no clothes sense at all. The sale rack at a discount store is not the first step of becoming well dressed. Naked he was in good shape with a hairy chest and a treasure trail to his bush. His uncut cock was a beauty. It was a thick, six inches soft, and was framed by bull balls enclosed in a hairy, low-hanging ball sack. I sucked some in the shower, and then we dried off and went to my bed.
"I love to top. Is that a problem?" he asked. "You have noticed I'm a big boy."
"The lube is in the table beside the bed," I replied. I decided not to play hard to get since my erect cock made that improbable.
Willy was as careful as a man can be given that he was shoving his cock into another man's ass. It was tight until his knob popped past my sphincter and rammed my prostate. The burst of pleasure from my prostate relaxed my sphincter which caressed Willard's cock as he pushed deeper into me.
His cock was thick and not tapered. He maintained the pressure on my prostate as he pushed deeper into me. I moaned.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"It's beautiful," I said.
"Is there room for a big load of sperm deep in you?" he asked.
I would have said yes, but I felt his first ejaculations. He was shivering and twitching as he unloaded fire hose style. He left his cock in me after the ejaculations stopped.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was that close," he said. "Damn, you're fucking tight. Do you want me to pull out?"
"Leave it in until you go soft. I'd like to milk your cock with my sphincter as you pull out," I said. "I want to milk every drop of sperm from your cock."
"You're good, but I'm not much of a bottom. I think I would like yours," he said.
"Let's save that for a second date," I said. "Would you liked to suck me off?"
"George told me you shoot the Champaign of man seed," he said. "I will give it a try."
A few minutes later he pulled out of my ass, rearranged himself and licked the tip of my cock. "It's sweet," he said. A few minutes later he shivered when I shot my first ejaculation on his tongue. He then deep throated me and gobbled up the remainder of my orgasm.
When he pulled away from my cock, I asked if he was okay.
"Yes, it was better than I thought it would be," he said. "Actually, it was a lot better." He said he had to get home so he dressed. As he left I asked if he wanted to try it again.
"I sure as shit do!" he said as he went to his car.
After the Christmas Ball, the rest of the semester was calm and quiet. The Spring Fling was canceled and was to be reworked. Rodney's class was filled and the snide comments about him vanished. The school began to focus more on academics, and less on social exclusivity. The girls were asked to think about what would they do if they didn't marry a rich man and spend the rest of their lives working on their tan beside the pool at the country club. There was a drop in status for the boys who attended exclusive boys' schools.
In some ways Good Shepherd Academy and St. Francis had been in a time warp. It was ideal for parents who wanted their girls and boys to go to a school where things were "the way things used to be." That was understandable but left the students short changed. Preparing students for a world that no longer existed was a poor choice.
I had a call from Willy who asked if he could come over. It was Ralph's play night away from Sarah. I told Willy another friend was dropping by and I thought he would enjoy meeting him. It turned out that Willy had met Ralph during his investigation.
Ralph and I were talking when Willy rang the doorbell. Both men looked pleased, we talked. I am not likely to be the focus of most gay men's wet dreams. Ralph was and he immediately connected with Willy.
Willy was masculine as hell. Ralph was masculine as hell and handsome. Neither had been in a threesome before. I am nothing if not versatile and I like to please. I was the only bottom in the trio when they arrived. After a little while I suggested that we adjourn to my bedroom and get to know each other.
In the bedroom we stripped. It turns out that when your cock is erect, small talk isn't necessary. We all liked what we saw. Willy sat on the edge of the bed. Ralph dropped to his hands and knees to suck Willy's cock. I lubricated my cock and nudged it into Ralph's ass. I was afraid that would be too much for him. He shifted his legs to open his ass wider. Ralph was ripe and ready. Willy seemed to like the view.
Fifteen minutes later it was if we had known each other for a long time and were pals. It was comfortable and mellow. While we got along well, our genitals really hit it off. Willy later told me it was his first threesome. He said that at first it had been odd for him to be sexually engaged with one man while another man was watching. He had never done that before.
At one point his cock was deep in my ass and Ralph entered his ass. Willy was the filling in a cock sandwich. When Willy shot off in me, he felt Ralph ejaculating into him. It was his first stereo sex. He said he felt used, but the feelings were mind blowing.
"What were you feeling when I came in you?" He asked.
"I hope you noticed I liked it?" I asked. "I had one pal in college who told me he liked to fuck because there was nothing to clean up. He used to do me in the showers at two or three in the morning. He wasn't an exhibitionist, but he liked the tension of possible discovery."
"Did you ever get caught?" Willy asked.
"Not officially," I said. "One guy who was the Resident Advisor on the floor, saw us. After my pal shot off in me and left, the guy fucked me. He told me later he had never fucked a guy with another guy's cum in his ass. He apologized. I told him I enjoyed it and then asked him if he enjoyed it. He said my ass was smooth as silk with the sperm lubricant. I took that as a yes."
Willy was a cop, so he was always a little on edge. The only time he was truly relaxed was after his orgasm. He left his cock in me as he went soft. I would squeeze his cock and milk the last drips of cum from his cock.
"It's like you can't get enough of it," he explained. "You take every drop when you suck me off."
"If you make it, I will take it," I said. He laughed.
"I know exactly what you are feeling as you shoot off," I said. "Taking your load let's me share your pleasure. It is as if I am tasting your pleasure. Your cock is the gift that keeps on giving."
A week later Willy called me on Monday and asked if I would be seeing Ralph on Tuesday again. I said that I hadn't heard from him, but I assumed he would come.
"If I could come, would that be okay?" he asked. "Would you and he like that?"
I told him that Ralph had enjoyed himself and that would be fine. That evening Ralph called and asked if he could come by on Tuesday. I told him that would be fine and Willy was interested in joining us.
"Hot damn!" he exclaimed. "He's a turn on. I used to dream of naked cops as a teenager. That was before I knew you could trade cum! I didn't even know it was edible."
"I was sort of interested in forest rangers," I said. We laughed. I called Willy and asked him to drop by Tuesday evening.
Willy got to my house a half hour before Ralph. "You told me I would get to like it more as I thought about it. You were right," he said. "Was Ralph okay with it?"
"He was okay with the sex and with you," I replied.
"He is handsome, I'm just a clunky guy," Willy said.
"You need to remember that gay men like other gay men," I said. "You don't need to be a male model in GQ to be masculine. You look like a man, act like a man and you have a male oriented recreational feature hanging between your legs. You are the complete package."
"I think of Pee Wee Herman and Divine as gays," he said.
"Dogs are dogs. A poodle is as much of a dog as a St. Barnard," I said. The creatures of the world are wonderfully varied. You don't need to be attracted to both, but if you prefer one, you don't need to dislike the other."
We talked until Ralph rang the door bell. Both men were relaxed and comfortable. It was a good night.