Long John
Part 6
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 again remind you that I have done away with the requirements of safe sex, and have included no gestures toward common sense either. These are all new stories. Please e-mail me if you have any suggestions or comments.
I made a mess, but no one seemed to mind. I don't like making a spectacle of myself but everyone enjoyed it. I was shooting my load in front of four men I hardly knew. Oddly I felt brotherhood rather than embarrassment. Thinking back on my earlier experiences I remembered how frightened and scared I was. Not of the sex, I was frightened of discovery, afraid someone might see.
The public displays of gay pride were never my thing. Gay pride is more about the way to feel about yourself and your sexual life. I see those Evangelical preachers on the televison of the bow-tie fags who seem to be half the "conservative" commentators on the 24 -hour networks, and I feel sorry. Do they ever admit to themselves who they really are? Will they ever feel true sexual satisfaction? We talked about this in the post orgasmic afterglow.
"When I visualized Bill O'Reilly shoving a vibrating dildo up his ass while talking to a potential conquest, I have to admit, I thought it might set the cause of Gay Pride back a decade or two," Charley said. "I'd hate to think of him as a member of the fraternity."
"Web sites are claiming Rush is gay," Rabbit said. "That's scary."
"A teacher I knew told me he was violently anti gay in public," Alan said. "That was his protection from exposure. It was sad. He was handsome and great in bed. I just didn't feel the same about him after he told me that."
"Hugh Hefner isn't my favorite philosopher, but admitting you like sex and enjoying it sure beats the alternative, Charley added. "Conservatives seem to have funny visions of the "good years" in the 19th century and early 20th when everyone was up tight and happy. That was the golden age of prostitution. Wife beating was all but required."
"I was thinking about Strom Thurmond fucking a fourteen or fifteen-year-old black maid," I said. "He was a paragon of "Christian" values. When you think he made the lives of thousands of black people hell, the hypocrisy is stunning. How could that Ass Hole live with himself?"
"What bothers me is that everyone in congress knew Strom was a sexual predator," Charley said. "It was an open secret. No one said a word."
The afternoon wound down and we all went home, but Charley said he'd like for us all to get back together. He also gave us tickets to several plays and to the Metropolitan Opera. I figured the opera tickets were useless and there was no way Long John would be interested. I told him to save the tickets for someone who would appreciate them.
I was wrong. Long John wanted to go to the opera. He had heard about operas, but never seen one. He wanted to know what the fuss was about. Long John was open minded. He was willing to try anything once. We got the tickets. The next night we were at the Metropolitan Opera house and sitting in seats I had heard rumors about, but never been able to afford. Luckily it was Pucinni's Turandot.
I had been to the opera a few times. The Met is famous for elaborate sets and staging, but I hadn't guessed the extravagance of the Met's production. I knew Franco Zeffirelli's movies, but didn't know he did stage design. It stunned me. Long John was mesmerized.
I thought it would have been perfectly acceptable to see just the sets and costumes, but the singing was great. The star singing the role of Calaf was sick and replaced by a stand in. You hear stories of the young unknown who has to replace the great star and is an instant success. That what we saw. Humberto Paladiano was unknown when he walked on the stage and by the end of act one, he was a star. Long John loved it. You didn't need to know anything about opera to know this would be a night they would be talking about for years.
At the end of the second act an usher brought a note to our box. It was a preprinted invitation to visit back stage after the performance to meet the cast. At the end of the note was handwritten note. "My friend Charley says we need to meet! We share common interests," it said. The note was signed by Humberto.
At the end of the opera Long John said, "It would have been better if Calaf ended up with the executioner. That woman will be nothing but trouble!" An usher came to take us back stage. It was a mad house, but you could tell there was some logic under the mass of confusion.
One of the men who played a Mandarins, Ping, I think it was, intercepted us. "Humberto is swamped," he said. "Come to my dressing room until he's free." We followed him to a small room to the rear. He changed from his spectacular Mandarin's robes into a middle-aged New Yorker before our eyes. Another note arrived saying Humberto would be delayed. Ping, whose name was David Anderson, took us to his apartment and said Humberto would join us.
David showed us around the back stage area and then we went to his apartment, a few blocks away. We had a drink and sat talking about the opera. Long John was a surprisingly good conversationalist. He and David hit it off.
Humberto was rooming with David. David's lover had left him for a younger man, leaving David short on rent, Humberto filled the void. They were friends and David was overjoyed at Humberto's success. "The minute I heard Humberto sing, I knew he could go to the top with some luck," David explained. "Tonight he got the luck."
"Are you expecting luck in your career?" Long John asked.
"Nope, not me. I'm a good singer, but I don't have the raw talent Humberto possesses."
"Does that bother you?" Long John asked.
David was silent for a few seconds. "It doesn't. He's in a different league than me. I don't like to admit it, but that's they way it is," he said. "Humberto is a wonderful guy, which makes it easier. He's as easy going and pleasant as a temperamental opera star can be."
Humberto opened the door and burst into the room. "I'm so sorry to be late," he exclaimed in heavily accented English. "I couldn't get away." We introduced ourselves. He was bigger than I thought he would be. I assumed the heavy costume he wore made him look larger. Humberto was well above six feet tall and had a barrel chest. He was wearing a white dress shirt, unbuttoned almost to his waist and jeans. Sweat drenched the thick mat of hair on his chest.
"You were magnificent!" David said. "A sensation."
"The audience loved it," Humberto said. "I need a cold drink and a shower. I feel like I'm cooking. Leather was a hot choice for the costume." David made him a tall drink. Humberto gulped it down and David made another. Humberto was excited, but oddly unsure about what had happened. He knew he had done well, but wasn't sure just how well.
He was like a teenager who had hit the home run that won the game who couldn't quite believe he'd done it. He wore a full beard. I thought this was part of the costume, but it was real. It made him look older than his actual age. He was in his early thirties.
We talked about the performance and he calmed down. As he did, I saw him glancing at Long John's crotch. Long John made his comment about the opera's ending, "I'm none to sure getting married to Turandot is a happy ending."
Humberto burst out laughing. "If you only knew the woman singing the Ice Princess tonight and you'd know it isn't a happy ending!" he said. "What a bitch! Who do you think I should have married?"
"I thought the executioner was hot and lord knows it's steady work," Long John replied. The Executioner was a bare chested body builder who had a non-singing role.
Humberto and David both laughed. "The Executioner's day job is as a hair dresser!" David said.
"He's an attractive man, but not my type," Humberto added. "He does look good swinging that sword. I'm afraid with all the steroids he takes the real sword doesn't get much use." The singer was very clearly staring at Long John's crotch as he said this. I looked and saw a well-defined lump in his pants.
The phone rang. It was for David and he raced off to meet some friends at a nearby restaurant, leaving us alone with Humberto. I wondered if this were a set up, or just good luck. After all, it was Humberto's lucky day.
"I need to take a shower. It's hot under the lights," Humberto said. "I hope you don't think I'm rude leaving you alone, but I'm afraid I'll stain David's furniture." I think he wanted to say some thing else, but he hesitated. Long John didn't hesitate.
"Do you need someone to wash your back?" Long John asked. "I'd be glad to help you out."
Humberto looked as if he had won the lottery. "Come into my bedroom. We can chat. Charley told me we would get along," he said. The bedroom was small and sparsely furnished. The singer took off his shirt. Long John stripped too. Humberto looked uncertainly at me. He was uncomfortable, but when Long John dropped his shorts, Humberto forgot his concerns. He said something in Italian.
He went off to the shower with Long John right behind. I was alone for a short while, but they rejoined me in the bedroom. "It's small shower, there wasn't room for both of us," Long John explained. Humberto sat in the bed and Long John stood next to him. This placed the monster cock in easy sucking distance. I leaned over and licked Humberto's cock.
He was every inch a hairy Italian and I had to search for his cock in the hairy forest of his crotch. I took a while. He had jumbo, egg-sized balls in a hair-covered sack and hair grew on the foreskin. At first I had trouble finding his cock; there was lots of skin, but no cock.
As Humberto sucked Long John the cock grew and emerged. The shaft was thin and long, but the head was at least twice the diameter. Pre cum was flowing. Trapped inside the skin it formed a heady brew. I licked it and soon I was tasting fresh pre cum.
"We need to move so Humberto can get a better angle of attack," Long John said. "I think he wants to deep throat it." A few seconds later Humberto's head was on the pillow. Long John straddled him and fed the tenor his cock. Long John's cock drooped when it was fully hard and this seemed to fit Humberto's throat well.
"This isn't going to mess up your tonsils, is it?" Long John asked.
"I'll take the risk," Humberto replied. In the new position I had easier access to Humberto's cock. His big knob sat on a delicately curved shaft. He was fully erect but the skin still covered about a third of the mushroom. It was paper thin. The precum drooling from his cock coated the organ and emphasized every detail. I licked it and Humberto shivered.
He spread his legs so I sucked on his balls too. They would have won a prize at the county fair. I took one in my mouth and growled. Humberto shivered as he felt the vibrations. He was responsive and a pleasure to suck. His cock head continued to get bigger and I began to wonder what the huge knob would feel like in my ass. This surprised me since I rarely thin about getting fucked. Somehow I thought the head on the thin shaft would be good.
I also wondered about Charley's conversation with Humberto. Was he a bottom and had Charley told him about Long John's anal skills?
Remarkably, Humberto had managed to deep throat the entire organ. He seemed proud of the achievement and Long John liked it too.
"You're a regular sword swallower," Long John muttered. "You're only the second man to do that." I watched as Long John slowly pulled his cock out of Humberto's throat. It was hard to believe the organ fit. "That was really good," Long John said as he eased it back in. "It fits like a glove."
When he pulled out the next time, Humberto said, "My ass is tighter."
"You think it will fit?" Long John asked. When he said that Humberto's cock spurted a glob of pre cum. Humberto was excited.
"Where the lube?" Long John asked. Humberto gestured toward the night stand. I got it out. Long John lubricated his cock as I took care of the singer's ass. When Long John got off the bed, Humberto pivoted and lifted his legs in the air.
While long John looked crude, he had a deliberate and easy approach to fucking. Fucking can be wild and crude. Once he was in, Long John's style could be aggressive, but until he was in deep, Long John took his time. It as if his cock infiltrated Humberto's ass, rather than invading it.
Long John started by opening Humberto's legs wide and pushing them back, so they totally exposed his ass. Humberto was defenseless and looked a bit scared. Nosing his cock in slowly, Long John pulsed the gland into the hole over and over again until finally the head popped through the sphincter. Now Humberto was totally at his mercy now.
I added more lube to the cock when he pulled it out and then Long John popped it in again. The intensity of Humberto's reaction was notable. He quivered and twitched. When eight inches of the cock was firmly lodged in his ass, Humberto had a shivering attack. Long John pulled out, but when Humberto calmed down again, he went in again.
"I can stop now, but you're going to hate yourself tomorrow morning if you don't get the feel the whole thing," Long John said. About ten minutes later he had forced the entire member into the opera singer's ass. Humberto just lay there, like a wet dishrag. He had lost his erection. I was going to tell Long John to pull out, but just before I said something, Humberto began to twitch his ass.
Long John began to pump slowly. A minute later they were going at it like dogs in heat. All was well.