Mr Smith and Mr Jones

Published on Sep 30, 2021

Gay

Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones 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

I am Dick Brown. When I was growing up my father had two kinds of friends. There were friends of the family who associated with Mom and Dad, and there were golf friends who were Dad's friends. They all got along, but in retrospect, the conversations with friends of the family were more interesting and varied than with the golf friends.

I caddied on weekends for Dad and his friends, but my interest in conversations about the conditions of the greens was limited. When I went to college, I discovered you could to other things that golf on a weekend. I became a photographer and graphic designer and got a job for a magazine. I won awards for my work, but that ended when the magazine was bought out and the new owners fired the entire staff as a cost cutting measure.

My Dad had died, and my mother had moved into a small apartment. A local advertising firm needed a designer, so I moved back to my hometown. Mom was happy. Her apartment was small, so I got my own apartment. I was nearby, but not in the bedroom next to hers.

I am a bit of a workaholic, and the firm I joined did exceptionally well with me as their designer.

I am also gay but being a gay workaholic in a town where I thought there were only straight people who knew my parents limited my contacts. I was jogging in the late evening when I noticed a man watching me from behind a tree. He seemed to have an impressive cock hanging out.

I like to read detective stories. In the novels an exposed cock was what they call a clue. I ran by two more times getting closer.

"Would you like to have a drink or cup of coffee?" the man asked. I nodded. "I'm in the white pickup in the west parking area," he said. "Can you follow me?" I said yes.

Fifteen minutes later I was at a small house on the edge of town. Inside the house, I saw him in the light. He was Mr. Jones.

"Shit, your little Dick Brown," he said. "I wouldn't have guessed that. I'm sorry. I understand if you want to leave."

"Is there any chance I could suck your cock, before I leave?" I asked. Playing hard to get is not my best skill.

"There sure is," he said. I minute or two later we were naked in the bedroom. His cock was uncut, thick, and meaty. It was better looking close and as soon as peeled back his foreskin with my tongue encountered the sweet taste of his pre-cum. Cocks can't lie. A cock can't pretend to get hard, and ooze precum on command. He was excited and ready to play. I am not a virgin, but Mr. Smith was very much not a virgin.

We had a great time. We were in the sixty-nine position and after ten minutes, he shot off first. He flooded my mouth with his thick cream. It wasn't as sweet as his precum, but it was sincere, pure pleasure straight from his balls. I shot off seconds later. It struck me as being only fair that he was enjoying my load as I enjoyed his. I felt like a kid eating his first ice cream cone. Mr. Smith was more than enthusiastic.

"Now that you have sucked my cock, you can call me Ted," he said after we calmed down. We talked and he told me he had a few playmates. They sucked but never took the load.

"Were you surprised when I took yours?" I asked.

He nodded and then said, "I didn't expect it, but I was surprised I like it so much." He paused. "To be strictly truthful, I loved it. I think you like it too."

"I had a friend at college who referred to it as the icing on the cake," I said.

"Is there any chance you might spend the night?" he asked.

"I have an early morning presentation tomorrow. It's a big deal," I said. "Could I get a rain check on that?" he said yes and I gave him my number. I went home.

The meeting the next morning was a success. We met with an old, well establish plumbing fixture company. They loved my proposal and hired us on the spot. It could be worth millions for us over the next decade. That afternoon I was surprised my boss made me a partner.

I got back to my apartment after a celebration after work. The phone rang. It was Ted. He wanted to see me again. I told him I had a few drinks and wasn't going to drive. I asked if he would like to come over to my apartment.

He said he would, but he had a friend who would like to meet me. I told him to bring him along. Ted told me he would be over in fifteen minutes.

My apartment was in a renovated carriage house, behind a Victorian mansion that had been turned into apartments. Ted knew where it was.

Ted arrived with two friends, Mr. Smith and Rev. Worthy, the Episcopalian minister.

"I found another pal on the way," Ted said.

"The more the merrier," I said. I realized I had more to drink than I realized. "I just got back for a long day and need a shower."

"Can we join you?" Rev. Worthy asked. I just smiled and the four of us went to the bath. I'm not shy. The trio of men were more than willing to join me. I was younger than they were, but they were in good shape for older men. Ted had been a wrestler in high school. He was still muscular and had always beaten Dad at tournament because of his powerful drives. Dad joked he was a nice guy who happened to look like the missing link. Mr. Carl Smith was the retired Athletic Director of a local college, and he gave exercise classes at the YMCA. Rev. William Worthy was a thin man with a swimmer's body.

They had been friends for years but were afraid their sexual tastes would ruin their lives. Carl and Ted knew me and knew I was safe.

As a guy who works for a PR firm, I tend to be outgoing and confident. That is a job requirement. Shy guys can't be in advertising and public relations. My sexual connections had been with guys my age. They regarded men over forty as trolls. I didn't think that way, but that was because I never connected with older men.

I met Ted because it was dark, not because I was looking for an older guy. His sexual experiences were with men his age. For Smith or Worthy an interest in boys would have ruined their lives. I was twenty or thirty years younger than they were, but my boy days were well behind me. I had never been in a group before. They had never been with a young guy.

I seemed to me that our only common interest was in gay sex. When with naked men, I tend to focus on the cock. In my shower there was a sampler of cocks, varied but all attractive. Ted had a thick, uncut member. Carl had a long white snake, with large pink knob. Worthy had a thick, baseball bat shaped cock. He was dripping precum as soon as he was erect. We had fun in the shower, but after we dried off, I sort of let it slip that I liked the bottom. Worthy was the only one of them who bottomed, and that was more to be polite than his preference.

An hour later they all had introduced their cocks to my prostate. Their climaxes were forceful so I could feel them ejaculating. We were all happy. They also discovered the joy of unloading in the tight confines of an ass. We showered again. Rev. Worthy sucked me and took my load. He then kissed his friends, sharing my sperm with each other. After more orgasms, they went home, and I went to bed. I woke up feeling great.

I was shocked at the intimacy of the night before. Technically it had be a gangbang. I realized not only had they enjoyed my ass; they became more excited as they used their friends' sperm as lube. It had been good for me too.

It was Saturday and I took the day off. I had been working on weekends to prepare my presentation, and it was nice to rest. Rev. Worthy called to make sure I was okay. "I was afraid things might have gotten out of hand," he explained. I told him I was fine and that letting it all hang out made for exciting sex.

He told me they had been the Three Musketeers for years, but they had never lost control, let go, and enjoyed sex so totally. I told him I felt the same way.

Sunday, Carl came by at ten. He shared a house with his sister, and she went to church.

I offered him coffee and we talked.

"Are you okay with what we did the other day?" he asked. "I am afraid we took advantage of you."

I smiled and said, "I had no problem at all. You went in nice and deep, and I could feel you squirting. It was beautiful."

"I liked it a lot," Carl said. "I've never shot my special sauce into a guy before. I've been thinking about it ever since. I like man sex, but this was the first time it was beautiful. It was relaxing to just let things flow."

"You want to fuck me again?" I asked.

"I sure do, but I want you to fuck me. I want to know what it feels like," he said. "Guys have told me my cock is too big."

We went to my bedroom. We got naked and he was on the bed rock hard. I had some lube. I quickly coated his cock and sat on it. My cock got harder as his cock slid into me. He was moaning.

"Let's see how long I can bounce on your cock before you pop?" I said. Carl could barely talk, but he was with the program. I'm not prone to fall in love, but my ass can be affectionate. A half hour later he popped. I sat up so he would coat my entire ass in his spurting cream. He had stopped ejaculating and only his knob was in my ass when I sat back on it.

Carl had a second orgasm. His ejaculations seemed more forceful this time. A little later he sucked me and took every drop of my load.

"I still want your load in my ass," he said after he swallowed my sperm.

"I need to be rock hard for that," I said. "Have your pals fucked you?"

He shook his head. "I've been an asshole about that. It would be embarrassing," he said.

"I'll fuck you when it isn't embarrassing anymore," I said. "You tell me when."

He agreed, dressed, and went home. I wondered how long it would be before my cock visited his ass. I suspected it wouldn't be a long wait.

Two days later Ted called me and asked me over to watch a football game. I'm not interested in football, but Ted said it would be more about balls than football. I got the message. He also said an old friend of his might drop in. "We have a lot in common with him," he added.

I got to Ted's house at one thirty. He was with Bubba Sanborn. I went to school with his son, Little Bubba. Little Bubba had been a tackle on the football team, and he wasn't at all little. Bubba was laborer for a contractor and always available when you needed brute strength. He was the last man in the world I expected to see. Carl and William arrived minutes later.

We had a brief conversation, when Bubba said, "We're not here to talk are we? I'm ready for some action."

"That's why I'm here," I said. the other men laughed, and we went to a basement rec room and stripped.

"Are you breakable?" Bubba asked in a whisper.

"That's not a problem," I said.

"You've got a nice one; does it taste good?" he asked.

"No one has complained," I replied. Bubba's lips were wrapped around my cock by then. He was a delicate sucker. We got on a couch and sixty-nined. His cock was responsive. When my tongue touched it, he twitched. He was uncut and I worked my tongue into the puckered tip and tasted precum.

"My cock is like a leaky faucet," he whispered. I licked his knob again. It twitched again and more precum oozed onto my tongue. Bubba was built like the Incredible Hulk, but his genitals were delicate, responsive, and sensitive. They were big but not huge.

A quick flick of my tongue might make him moan or his cock drip. Some cocks are a hard tube until the climax. Bubba's cock was an active participant. I had a friend at college who had the responses of a log. He screamed and moaned during the orgasm and then reverted to be in a log. He would tell me it was good and thank me as he dressed and left. He shot a huge load which I liked, but that was it.

Bubba's cock was a cheer leader, rewarding me percum and twitching when I licked a good spot. Ted, Carl, and William joined in. Sometimes we formed a single organism endowed with five cocks and five assholes. Eventually a cock would find a perfect ass and push deep. You never knew when the cock would find the perfect spot and bathe it in fresh man seed.

We were sort of a perpetual motion machine. Sperm was flowing everywhere. I didn't know exactly where it was, but I knew it was in a warm, welcoming place. When I was licking the sperm drool from Bubba's ass, I made a note to myself that I would like to taste each man's seed so I would know whose seed I was savoring. The next day I realized I had been in a sexually induced hallucination. I knew that some sperm tastes different for others, but when I was taking a load, I wasn't too worried about the chemical makeup.

The party broke up around five thirty. Everyone was getting tired, and Ted said it was best to stop before the sex got disappointing. I went home, had a little to eat and fell asleep around ten. The phone woke me at nine the next morning. It was my mother she was having chest pains. She said he pains weren't that bad. I told her I would be over and called the rescue squad. The dispatcher asked for my mother's age. I told her mom was seventy-eight. The dispatcher said a truck would be in the way in minutes.

I got dressed and got to my mother five minutes before the ambulance arrived. The crew was professional and had a doctor with them. Fifteen minutes later mom was on the way to the hospital. Mom had gained some weight, but they had a few big guys. Mom was on the second floor so getting her down the stairs was a problem. I was surprised to see that Little Bubba was the heavy lifter in the squad. He was bigger than I remembered him. He wasn't fat, just more muscular.

One member of the crew, Liz, stayed with me to go through mom's medicines to see what she was taking. Mom was a firm believer in keeping personal things to herself. She had heavy-duty heart meds. I called her doctor and he said he would get to the hospital immediately.

I took Liz home and took the medicines to the hospital. Mom was being tested and scanned. She was having a stroke, not a heart attack. They sedated her to keep here calm and hopefully not induced additional strokes.

Since it was Sunday, they had to call in additional doctors. They wouldn't be able to do anything until the next morning. I went home by way of my mother's apartment. I couldn't remember if I had locked it up. When I got there Little Bubba was working on the apartment house lawn. They had driven the Rescue Squad over the lawn to get closer to the door. He was repairing the damage.

"I take care of that," I said. "You've done more than enough for my mom," I said.

"You'd be surprised how many people complain that we've made a mess," Little Bubba said. "How have you been? The last time I saw you as at graduation."

"I'm fine," I said. "Are they still calling you Little Bubba?"

"Dad says he sorry about giving me that name," he said. "I'm a Sergeant in the police now. The guy call me Sarge. I'm the police officer attached to the rescue squad."

"Sarge fits you better," I said. "You're bigger than your dad."

"Dad said he met you yesterday. You impressed him," Sarge said. "You impressed him a lot."

"It was a nice get together," I said.

"Dad and I share some common interests," Sarge said. "We don't play together, but sometimes we exchange notes. We never exchange the sticky stuff. He said you like to trade the cream."

"Do you like that?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I'm interested," he said as his phone beeped. He raced off and I had a lot to think about. I checked the apartment and then locked I up. The young couple that had moved in the next door came over to as how mom was. I told them the doctors were still examining her. It was a stroke, but they didn't know how serious. They said they would keep an eye on her apartment for me.

Back at my apartment I had a call from mom's doctor. He said they didn't know how serious the stroke was, but she was responding well to the treatments. He vital signs were good.

Mom was out of the hospital three days later and in a nursing home. She was feeling good, but her right leg was weak and buckled without warning. There was no way she could return home until that problem was solved. Her apartment was on the second floor.

I thought she would hate it in the nursing home. She loved it. Some of her friends were there, and within a week she joined a group of bridge players. All was well. She had claimed all was well when she was living at home, but she was lonely.

I began working on proposal for a stay in school program for an educational foundation. We arrived at a tag line, "I was too smart to stay in School." It occupied me for months. My newfound playmates were my only recreational outlet.

I ran by my mother's apartment periodically to make sure nothing was wrong or damaged. Sarge drove by, stopped, and said hello.

"Any damage?" he asked.

"Nothing I can see," I replied. "How are you doing?"

"It's been a quiet week," he said. "Usually I am over worked, but I don't like waiting for something to happen." He stepped closer to me, "I wouldn't mind some man-to-man fun?" I invited him over to my apartment for a beer. He told me he didn't drink, but he thought we would find something.

When we got to my apartment, I saw surprised at how quickly Sarge stripped. He told me that he had been strictly into quicky, blow jobs. His dad told him he needed to relax and smell the roses.

I asked him how he found out about his father's sexual tastes.

He said he dad had caught him sucking off a friend from school. His dad told him it wasn't a problem and that he liked sucking cock too. Bubba told him to find his own friends. He mentioned that no self-respecting teenager would learn anything from his dad. Sarge told me his friends were nice guys, but not very imaginative.

"Dad told me you have enough imaginative for ten guys," he added.

Next: Chapter 2


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