The Never Say Never Motel. 1 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
Beverly Heights Virginia is a small town located near the intersection of two interstates. It became the fast food and motel capital of Virginia in the 1950-60 period. The owners of these establishments were successful for several decades, but they attempted to extend their success by charging more for the rooms and avoiding anything that suggested renovation or repair. That was not the path to success.
I went to school with a kid named Doofus Malloy. He was Doofus Malloy Jr. His father was Doofus Senior. His dad was known as Big Doofus until Little Doofus was six-feet-five in his junior year of high school. Their Christian name was Edward, but Big Doofus thought that sounded like they were putting on airs.
Big Doofus made only one good decision in his life. He married Mary Theresa O'Bannon. She was the only child of successful tobacco farmer. Mary Theresa was a good Catholic and a firm believer that sex was the path to perdition. She did her duty and had one child. That suited her and Big Doofus. He wasn't that much interested in women anyway. Doofus Junior shared the same lack of interest, as do I.
When his parents died. Little Doofus discovered his father had been buying declining hotels for a song. The town of Beverly Heights had an urban renewal project and purchased the declining hotels and Doofus made a large profit.
Doofus retained one motel. Technically it was called the Beverly View, but the locals called it the Never say Never Motel. That was due to the open-minded waitresses and waiters of the motel. Doofus called the waiters his dad's personal reserve. Doofus and I discovered sex at the Beverly View. The manager. Martin gave us lessons in advanced fornication. Martin was a dirty old man and not attractive. His cock was slightly smaller than average, but he had encyclopedic knowledge of what you could do with a mouth, a cock, and an asshole.
Doofus was not impressive intellectually. He also was poor conversationalist and was a bit dense. He liked sex and was a good sexual partner. When his father found out they shared the same sexual interest, he gave Doofus on piece of advice. "Don't be an asshole to the guys who is sucking your cock." Doofus was not prone to follow his father's advice, but he learned the hard way. I never bit him, but it was tempting when he was younger. As an adult, Doofus was sweetness and light when he was sexually engaged.
I am William Robert Williams. I was called Billy-Bob in high school. When went to college I managed to switch my name to Bill. I got a degree in accounting. After graduating, I went to work for Doofus. I was his financial advisor.
The Beverly View was in poor shape and there was a new Baptist Police Chief who didn't approve of the extra services our staff provided. I suggested that Doofus sell it. That was the sensible approach to the problem. Sensible had no attraction for Doofus at all. I then suggested that we turn it into a private club. It would be for men who had alternative lifestyles. The club would not serve liquor. There was a Liquor store a block away. We would have a manager and cleaning staff. Men would pay a member ship fee. The Motel was built around a courtyard which had a pool. I knew some gay caterers who would provide food.
We also provided a few rooms for men who needed a break in life. They could do maintenance work, but most tended to be lazy and preferred to provide services on their knees or on their backs. There was an informal kitty that provided spending money for them.
This sort of arrangement worked well. No one was ever rowdy or disruptive. Our club members wanted anonymity. We were open minded, but we didn't cater to masochists or sadists. It was clear that nothing that left marks or scars was allowed. Nothing that could not vanish down the toilet was allowed. We also had a retired nurse, Old Bill, who did HIV tests and managed minor problems. He was the boyfriend of an important man, so a room at the Never Say Never was an ideal for him.
We were incorporated as the NSNM Enterprises. As an accountant I knew how to avoid any words or comments that would alert the tax people to our true business.
I was doubted the club idea would work, but I was wrong. Finding potential members was not difficult. We had thirty-five men join in the first two weeks. Two weeks later we had one-hundred and fifty men and three hundred a month later. There were no safe and sanitary places to go if you were gay between the urban areas of North Carolina until you were in Washington D.C.
The NSNM didn't feel like a pick-up bar, but unlike the bars, we had rooms available. I thought old Bill's testing would offend the club members. They loved it. It insured the men in the club were safe. Our members said safe sex was more comfortable.
We had two doormen, Bill, and Don. They were big men. One of our members said they made Gorillas look effeminate. They were locals and they knew many of the problem men.
Members could bring friends for a night. Once he did the test, they joined in the activities. The dining area and lounge we greet and meet areas. Most of the men moved on to the rooms and the pool area. The motel had single and double rooms surrounding a pool. The pool had been known as Lake Malaria. It was well built and in good condition other than cleaning. We cleaned it and it was most attractive.
Doofus had us make four-room suites of some of the singles and double rooms. He turned one room of the suite into a large shower and locker area. The suites were for cruising. When you visited the suites, you stripped and had a chance to make your interests known overtly.
Doofus liked sex and his relationships usually began with a blow job in an alley or in a park. There were no commitments there, but if you came back, your blow job might become a fuck buddy, or even a partner. The suites were free and popular. The men who had rooms used them to find possible overnight companions.
I thought the suites were for superficial men who were just looking for quick sex. After a month, I realized I was spending a lot of time in the suites. While I knew I liked sex with men, I hadn't realized how much I liked it.
I came to know and like the regulars. These men might come by once or twice a week. We had some men who came the nights their wives went to night school or went to visit their mom and dad. We had some men who were shy and had difficulty connecting with men. Some were socially inept; some had self-esteem problems. You knew everyone who visited the Suites was looking for sex. You wouldn't offend them if you made it clear you had the same interest. There were also men who would invite you to join them for a threesome or foursome. Once someone knew you were a good cocksucker or a needy bottom, you were set.
If you were a greedy cock sucker who took loads, you might find you had a social life. If you liked to take loads up you ass, you might become popular. This may sound superficial, but it worked. It certainly worked for me.
I guess I had been going there for several times a week for a month when I ran into someone I knew. Mr. Barlow has been a new Biology teacher when I was in high school. He was a good teacher, but he was an even better football coach. My school preferred male teachers who could coach. He was older, but in good shape for his age. We talked a little, and then he recognized me.
"I'm embarrassed. I've never been with a student," he said.
"Don't worry I won't tell," I said.
"I've been afraid of blackmail," he whispered.
"I'd like only one thing from you. I would love to taste your cum as you shoot it in my mouth," I said.
"What if I can't get off?" he asked.
"I think I remember that good attitude counts?" I said. He urged his teams to try hard and have good attitude. I dropped to my knees and started sucking. Mr. Barlow had no trouble getting it up and feeding a former student.
"Damn. You are good at that!" he said. "Up to now I must have been sucked off by members of the JV team."
"Most of the men who patronize the Never Say Never are experienced," I said. He relaxed following the orgasm, and I introduced him to some of the regulars. It turned out Mr. Barlow had a special friend in a town fifty miles away. He had died and Barlow wanted to find someone.
I am not sure that Barlow realized he was still a hot property in the gay world. He was middle aged now, but in good shape, and had a slightly Marlboro Man look. I introduced him to Roger, a banker, and Dudley, a professor. The three men got along well.
I encountered a man who said his name was Troy. I happened to know he was Calvin Smith, the associate minister of a holy roller church. The was thirty-five or so and a came by after classes trying to a degree. He was trying to get the degree from a Presbyterian institution, which was vastly more demanding than the degree mills that provide most degrees for holy rollers. He had another problem of course, that was why he was in one of our suites.
I am always polite, and I talked with him. He was a nice, badly educated, gay redneck. He did the day-to-day work for the church while the head man advocated a form of religion that would have been backwards in the Middle Ages. We talked and then I dropped to my knees and sucked him. He had a nice cock and a hair trigger.
That was a first for Troy. He didn't know anyone would take his load. He had no idea his orgasm could be that intense. He went home immediately. I was afraid it was too much for him, but he was back a week later, and he had a friend, Jerry. Jerry was slightly younger, heavy set and had a hairy chest.
Troy introduced him and added in a whisper, "I told him about the stuff we did. Jerry is interested. He's never done that sort of thing."
"Everyone needs to start somewhere," I said. "Did you tell him that everyone here is experienced. That might be a shock or uncomfortable for some one new to the scene."
"I've seen some videos," Jerry said.
"Did that bother you?" I asked.
"At first it did, but it was so exciting I forgot to be bothered," he said. "I thought may be only porn stars in the big cities do that sort of thing. Troy told men do that stuff here."
"Are you afraid?"
"A little, but I want it so bad I just have to try it," he said.
"You know you can't undo it?" I asked. He nodded. I bent over and licked his cock.
He moaned, adding, "That's good!"
I dropped to my knees and was able to suck them. When their cockheads met in my mouth, Jerry moaned again, and I tasted his precum. Troy shot off, bathing my tongue and Jerry's cock head in sperm. As before, he left leaving me with Jerry.
I stood and said, "I'm thinking you want more."
"I didn't know it could be this good. Can we do more?" he asked.
I smiled. "Sure, it's up to you." He said he wanted more.
"I would like to take your load. Do you think you could take mine?" I asked. "I know you've just met me, but do you think you could take it?"
"I don't know but I want it," he replied. "My cock has never been this hard." He bent over and began to suck me. Jerry discovered that my cock was made for his mouth and when I shot off, my sperm was something he wanted to eat for his entire life. He didn't know that, but I had never felt a man react as he did. After he shot off, I sucked him and was rewarded with a mouthful of his home brew. He asked me if I could suck him until he was soft.
Later he mixed with some of the other men. Jerry discovered that being half hard and drooling precum was all the introduction he needed to make new friends. Don, one of our door men was on a break. He and Jerry hit it off big time. I watched them go at it and noticed that when Jerry bent over to suck Don's cock, Jerry's ass spread, and his hole was on display.
I wondered how many times Jerry would visit the Never Say Never before he would entertain gentlemen caller in his ass. Jerry had a short recharge time and fifteen minutes later Don was demonstrating a gourmet's appreciation for Jerry's freshly minted sperm.
We had some members from out of town who made a pilgrimage to the Club. The recreational opportunities for gay sex in rural Virginia are limited. Once one of two men found us, they recruited others for a periodic visit. Some came once a month, but others were bi-monthly, or holiday related. We had a group of guys from Emporia and from other rural or small towns. Their visits were often disguised as a poker night, or a golfing trip. Some groups had tickets to college athletic events.
It is easy to fall into accepting the gay images of men on the television or in the movies. They are not all florist and artistic types. They are definatly not all transvestites or drag queens. You cannot tell a man's profession or income by the way he rams your ass, or by tasting the cum he's shooting into your mouth.
One of the first group of men claimed they were from East Buttfuck, North Carolina. I had a suspicion finding that town on a map would be difficult. I met a man named Grant after we had been open a few months. Grant ran a diesel repair business just off I-95. His business was open 24 hours a day so he must have been loaded.
Grant was middle aged. He was still a bit muscular and had a nice cock. It as a little above average. Doofus would describe it as meaty, but not a prize winner. The cock was a nice, but Grant had stamina. I soon suspected that he had instant refilling balls. He could easily shoot off four or five times at night with no loss of enthusiasm.
Grant was a hardworking, smart redneck. He was not a lazy, how-about-another-beer redneck. He loved the club and came back with five to six men who shared his sexual tastes. They all liked non-strings sex. Two or three were diesel mechanics and there were truck drivers, few carpenters and brick masons. Often, Grant visited with anonymous guys. Grant slipped and called one of them Major and another one Doc.
On his first visit as a group, Grant introduced me to Rusty. Rusty wore a Fu Manchu, was scrawny, muscular, and well endowed. He was all man but was not a model for men's clothing. He would do anything to you or for you depending on your wants. His specialty was lengthy fucks. If it could be done in an ass, he could do it.
Rusty's pal was Teddy. Teddy didn't talk much, but if florist can say it with flowers, Teddy could say it with his cock. I was a magic wand. The two men would double team me. I would sixty-nine with Rusty while Teddy fucked me and then they would trade places. They were imaginative and generous. When they saw a friend, they would invite him to sample my ass.
I was wide open by then, but my sphincter-maintained standards and was able to massage visitors' cocks. I was well used but had established myself as a good sport. Rusty told me later that the men were mostly suckers. The bottoms they knew would take a cock up the ass without enthusiasm. Bottoming was a girly thing. They had never fucked an ass with several loads in it. While I was tight, I didn't fight being penetrated. One or two guys thought I was too open, but the rest enjoyed my sperm filled ass.
Grant's men visited rarely, but they were always into it. They were normal guys. After they had fucked me a few times, most figured they needed to open their ass for my recreational use; that was only fair. Groups like Grant's were so glad they had a safe place to have sex. They were always careful and polite. Sex was a rarity for them, and they didn't want to cause a problem at the club.
Doofus had ideas once and a while. These often unsettled me since logic and common sense rarely played a role in his thinking process. He wanted to add a sling in each of the suites. He thought they were they were good icebreakers. He liked slings since they encouraged sex without that talking and getting to know a guy that took time away from fucking.
"You can talk anywhere. There is no problem finding a place to talk, but finding a place to fuck is a bitch," he explained. I wasn't so sure there were many men who wanted a stranger's cock up their ass. I wasn't sure about that, but slings were inexpensive, so I agreed.
I soon remembered that Doofus sometimes had good instincts. Some men liked to be in the sling, and many more were willing to fuck whoever was in the sling. If you were on a schedule for a meeting, you could visit us, get in the sling, be fucked by several men and be on you way in a half hour or so. It you were a top, there was always a bottom, stretched wide open and lubricated. It wasn't romantic, but a lot of guys aren't into romance.
I soon realized that once your cock is in a stranger's ass, all bets are off as to the outcome. It may be the quicky you expected, but it could be much more than that. Cock's have their own objectives and a cock's objectives may override the brain's well-made plans.