Redneck Reveries 2 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 bldhrymn@yahoo.com
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After we ate, John helped me clean up. "Bubba is your best friend," he said.
"I noticed he seemed to have warmed up to me," I replied.
"I'm a little worried you might be getting yourself in to more that you bargained for," John said. "He is singing your praises."
"I did get the impression he was signing up partners on my dance card," I said. "It's strange but I've had an urge to get a bit slutty. I want plain old, no strings attached sex."
"I think you make have hit the jackpot," John said. "We all like fun, lots of fun, fun with no strings attached and no expectations. We've been messing around some and it worried me some, but it's never been a problem at work. No one has ever mentioned it or tried to use sex to their advantage. It's pure fornication. We share and share a like.
"You mean you want to share my ass?" I asked. John looked embarrassed.
"Would you be shocked if I said it was available for general use?" I asked.
"Maybe a little," John said, "but I'd also think Christmas came early!" We both laughed. That evening, playtime in the pool was relaxed. I was expecting a replay of the night before, but it was both more relaxed and more intense.
It all started in the pool since we needed to clean up after the hot day. The night was slightly cooler and was almost comfortable. There were no distant gunshots and the only odd sound was a cracking and snapping. That was my neighbor's house continuing it disintegration. The art gallery was no more.
Bulldozer sat on the edge of the pool, apart from the rest of us. I understood he was shy and needed an invitation. I swam over to him and asked if he was sore. "You've had a long day of work." I said.
"This was a light day for me," he said. "I'm sore every night."
"It's time to relax," I said. Leaned over and took the tip of his uncut cock into my mouth. He was completely soft but his cock was impressive and weighty. Even soft it seemed massive.
"You don't need to do that," he whispered.
"Can I do it if I want too?" I asked.
"You sure as shit can!" he replied. I had sucked him on an impulse. I had never sucked a black man before. I thought maybe I should be shocked. The inside of his foreskin was filled with cock ooze. That should have been more shocking. I felt excited. I was even more excited when my tongue encountered his cock head and I discovers he had a sperm slit that was big enough to stick my little finger in. Bulldozer was pumping out the ball juices and I was sucking it up. I was getting my tongue into his cum tube and talks his fresh cock juice.
I also discovered his on button, the place where his foreskin joined the cock head was tender. It was like a sexual Pez dispenser. When I licked the spot he would ooze a glob of his cock juice. I could milk him He cock grew to full size. I remember thinking that it would never fit in my ass, and then I realized I didn't care one bit.
"Your pal is milking you, Bulldozer. Feed him your ball scum. He loves it," Bubba said. "He's gobbling it up!"
Tommy was behind me again. His cock slid in easily and this time he managed to make a few dozen thrust before he shot off. He got in deeper and I could feel him spurting. I was expecting Bubba next, but he was still encouraging Bulldozer.
I felt a much bigger cock at my hole. It was John. His fire plug style cock was much thicker than I was use to taking. I am no virgin and I should have known myself better, but I was surprised when I realized I wanted his tool in me. Apparently I was the only one in the group who didn't realize it.
Tommy had lubricated my ass well with his man seed. John didn't rush things. He pushed a little, but didn't force it. I shifted my legs wider and his oversized knob popped in. He didn't push deep. He toyed with my sphincter until I was open and then he pushed his cock head in to my prostate. I was beginning to have serious doubts about John's virginity. I went to the moon and back every time the rubbed the little gland.
All the time John was working his cock into me, I was sucking up Bulldozer's thick Afro cream. I was in a sexual trance. John's cock became thicker as it approached his body, sort of like a tree trunk. As he pushed deeper, he also stretched me wider. John seemed to know when it was time to go deeper. He never pushed until I was ready.
John wanted a rest period. He wanted to hold back and shoot later. I was wearing out and I needed a break. I swam a little and we all had another glass of wine. Refreshed I sucked Bubba. Bubba's cock was long and thin and I could deep throat it and then suction all of his sex juices as I pulled off.
Bulldozer took care of the action on my back porch. Bubba, John and Tommy offered Bulldozer advice as he worked his tool into my behind. Bulldozer was slow and steady. As Bulldozer pushed, Bubba's ball juices seemed particularly attractive and after ten minutes or so I discovered every inch of Bulldozer's organ was in me. He began to thrust slowly and I began to feel more intense sensations.
Bubba seemed to be feeling more intense sensations too. He popped and flooded my mouth with his cream. Bulldozer had a plan and Bubba's orgasm didn't change it. He began to pull out leaving only his cock head in my ass. He would then slowly push. When his knob passed my prostate I twitched. Bulldozer noticed and he rubbed the same place again. I was sucking Tommy now.
Tommy was a young, handsome man and his cock was average. It was very easy to suck and deep throat. It was a joy. I began to undulate my ass as Bulldozer fucked me. Something happened. It was as if his cock slipped into the perfect position. His cock head pushed deeper into my ass, and my prostate must have shifted so that it was in continuous contact with his thick shaft. It almost winded me.
Bulldozer noticed the change and he picked up the pace. Somehow Tommy filled my mouth as Bulldozer filled my ass. They were perfectly coordinated. Bulldozer pulled out slowly, spurting the entire way, lubricating my entire rectum. When he pulled out, John entered and fucked me like a wild man. After he shot off, we all calmed down and soon went to bed. It had been a full day.
Early the next morning Bubba got in bed with me. I was too sleepy to object. He cuddled close to be and somehow his cock had was right next to my hole. It slipped in easily. I'm not sure he wanted to fuck me. I think he just wanted to be in me.
Was there too much fucking last night?" he whispered. "We've all done you now."
"A month ago the thought if being fucked by you guys would have shocked me," I said. "Last night it seemed like the most natural thing in the world."
"I though shoving my cock in a guy's ass would be like Alien sex," I wasn't like that at all. You know Bulldozer has never fucked before. He the youngest of a family of ten and he takes care of his Mom. She a nice Baptist lady and he doesn't get out much. He like it a lot."
"He was nice," I said.
"Everyone back home says I'm a horn dog. I can't get enough sex," Bubba said.
"Do you think that's bad?" I asked/.
"I don't know, they seem to think it's bad."
I don't know if there is a normal level of sex. I know of some married couples who think once a week or once a month is fine," I said, "I had a partner named Kevin who liked it daily, just before breakfast. I later found out had had some fun just after lunch too. I was shocked and we broke it off. Looking back Kevin was a nice guy and really good in the bed. I think he was always in heat and he just had a lot to give." Bubba cock was mostly soft now, but it still felt good.
"That, "I've got a lot to give," line might fit me," Bubba said. "It's better than, "I horny as hell and spread your legs. That my usual line."
"I think a little polishing up of you banter might be good," Bubba said. John was up and he must have heard us talking. He came in the room.
"Somerville, you screwed me up," he said.
"Boss, I don't want to contradict you, but technically, you screwed Somerville," Bubba said.
"It not his ass I am talking about, it my mind," John said. "I had the world separated into Straight guys, and Gay guys. I also had a category of straight guys who messed around some. My vision of straight guys who mess around didn't include dumping my load into a man hole. I don't want to be a gay guy, but damn, I like man sex."
"Well I like, thin, tall, elegant handsome and sophisticated men. I like them cultured, refined and witty," I said. "A well groomed men with every hair in place is my cup of tea."
"But you will settle for a tall, bearded redneck, with a cock long enough to give your heart CPR through your asshole?" Bubba suggested.
"My problem isn't that I will settle for it. It's that I crave it," I said. "A redneck with fully loaded balls seems to hit the spot."
"I'm afraid we share the same problems," John said. The phone rang and sacred me half to death. The phones were working again. John had to call Ralph and our conversation came to an end. Ralph had a slew of projects he had to get done. He told me he could take care of my house if I needed it. I could live in my house so I told him to come back when things were calmer. I could repair my house at leisure.
Before John and his men left, I told him I wanted to get together again. John said that they all wanted that. The electricity came back on six hours later and life began to get back into something resembling normal. I had a lot of work to do on the theater, and had repair work for former clients.
When I returned to my office my staff had been working on the theater. My office had electricity the whole time. I tend to be demanding and controlling, but they had done well, very well. The existing condition drawings were magnificent. I had also sketched out some general ideas for the theater and Tony, my newest draftsman, had done a wonderful job filling them out. The office was swamped with new work but Tony and Carol, my other intern architect, had friends. I don't like dealing with personnel problems, but Tony and Carol weren't at all prone to suffer fools or lazy associates.
I had hoped for a quiet weekend at home, but Stella's husband had died. He had a stroke the day before and she was the sole heir. She had no interest in the art at all, but she loved the museum and its social aspect. While she wasn't interested in art, she was willing to be a patron of art and a donor. The museum knew that. They were extremely accommodating. Stella had contacted the Academy of Art and they were going to take the collection to the museum for safer storage. A large truck, moving men and conservators arrived Saturday morning with guards.
The conservator, F. Donald Warring, was snotty about having all of the works jammed in my house. I ignored him. The crew was otherwise affable. I noted they spent the entire day loading the truck. We had moved the collection in two hours. The Academy usually hired artists for guards and other tasks. In some ways it was a welfare organization for unemployed artists. One of the men stood out. He was a man they called Blackbeard.
He was the Bulldozer of that organization. He was about five-ten and gave the illusion of being wider than he was tall. That was because of his wide-shoulders and barrel chest. He looked a bit like a Cro-Magnon man, his eyes were all but invisible due to his busy eyebrows. His beard was the size of a raccoon. He was obviously from the Mountains of Virginia. He wore overalls and a plaid shirt. Everyone else wore the Academy uniform. He seemed to do all the heavy work but was treated like a piece of machinery.
At noon F. Donald came over to me. "I think I was out of line this morning. There isn't a scratch on a single item. You are your men did a wonderful job," he said.
"Well, it was move it or lose it," I said. "Have you seen what's left of the gallery?" I took him and Blackbeard over to the house. Blackbeard had been standing nearby and he tagged along. The rear wing of the house was gone and the back wall of the main house looked unstable. You could see a part if the roof forty feet below, covered in mud. It was deep in a gully. As if to add some extra drama, a part of the rear wall collapsed as we watched. I explained what had happened structurally. F Donald was obviously uninterested, but Blackbeard was both interested and seemed to understand.
The truck and the crew left at four. Blackbeard remained to straighten things up for me. He had his own pickup truck. Told him not to worry about that. The place had been trashed by our muddy feet when we brought the stuff in. I would have to redecorate. I offered him a beer. I accepted the offer. We sat by the pool. The filters were operating again and it was crystal clear.
Since I seemed to have become a redneck fancier, I could tell that Blackbeard was a few steps down the social ladder from Bubba. Blackbeard came from a hollow deep in the mountains. He had been hired by the academy to mow the lawn. He interrupted a rape and the rapist had come out of it very much the worse for wear. The Academy used him a scarecrow. If they were uneasy about a visitor, they would send Blackbeard in to keep the peace. They soon discovered they also needed a big man once and a while and he was careful and strong.
After a second beer he talked more. I explained the physics of the collapse next door. He wasn't at all educated, but he understood. The day had been pleasant up to then, but it became much hotter and more humid.
"How about a quick dip in the pool?" I asked. "I need to cool off." I didn't wait for an answer. I stripped and jumped in. a minute later there was a big splash. You forget Walruses are good swimmers too. Blackbeard was unexpectedly graceful. He was a wonder in the water. We frolicked for a while and the just enjoyed the water.
We had another beer. Blackbeard relaxed more.
"Are you a gay guy?" he asked. "The guys at the museum said you were an old Queen." I figured he had relaxed too much.
"I'm gay. I don't think of myself as a queen."
"Do you do that gay stuff, like sucking cock?"
"If you think I'm the kind of guy that sucks any man who had a cock, you are wrong!" I said. I was very annoyed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you," he said. "I was kind of hopping you were that kind of guy."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"I know I'm ugly and stupid," Blackbeard said. "I was hoping someone would do me. I've heard about blowjobs, and I'm pretty sure I'd like one. I'm twenty seven years old. I've never done nothing."
"You jerk off, don't you?" I asked."
"Sure," he replied. "I was hoping a blow job was better." I was shocked he was twenty-seven, he looked more like a well-used forty-five. I also knew when they passed out social graces, the skipped him entirely. I briefly thought he might have thought up a clever and original pick up line. I looked at him and realized that was a million to one chance. He was a young, mountain boy in the big city.
"Let's dry off and go into the house and talk a little more," I said. "Grab your clothes."
"Do I need to put them on?" he asked.
"Maybe later," I replied. He smiled.
We went to my bedroom. It was the only part of the house that hadn't been disrupted by the storm and temporary use as a storage facility.
"You know you are talking about sex?" I asked. "It's real personal and intimate."
"I was hoping so. I like going bare naked."
"In the movies it's sanitary and neat. In real life it kind of messy. Things ooze, drip and spurt. A lot of people get embarrassed. You think you are naked now. Wait until you are hard and shooting off your load if you want to know what real naked is," I said. That didn't seem to discourage him.
"There is one more thing. In the movies things are all romantic. That may be true for some men, but for most gay men it's all cock play. It's sex without the romance and the cuddly bits."
"Are you trying to make this sound good or bad? I sounds real good to me!" Blackbeard said. Actually, I sounded good to me too. I reached over and fondled his cock and balls. They were hidden in his thick pubic forest. Like many beefy men his organ was his balls and his enshrouded cock head. There was no visible shaft.
For the next hour I played with Blackbeard and discovered most of what I guessed about him was wrong. His balls were man udders that produced a nonstop supply of creamy pre cum. His cock was the size of a beer can. It was too big to be easily sucked, but perfectly designed as a spigot.
He was innocent, but he was also ripe and more than eager. He was a huge hunk of a man, but his genitals were tender and delicate. They and he responded to very lick of my tongue. I didn't exactly suck him, it was more a combination of cock worship and milking.
He shot off after ten minutes and I took his load. That excited Blackbeard. He said he would go home, and I told him to stay and I continued to suck his soft cock. A half hour later he had a second orgasm. It was good too. I continued to suck. By this time his cock was the only part of his body that wasn't relaxed and he was comfortable shooting in my mouth.
His third orgasm belonged in a book of records. He shot the complete contents of his balls, prostate and cock into my waiting mouth. I had to swallow twice. I let him go home. "Can I do this again?" he asked.
"Of course you can, the world is your oyster."
"I want to do it with you," he said. "I want to do more. There is more stuff I could to do, isn't there?"
"Can you do more?" I asked.
"I didn't think I could, but I know I can now," he said. "Thank you." He went home. I felt good too.
The next month was a sexual drought, but good every other way, the theater drawings were completed and construction resumed. John and his boys were on the job. Stella gave her art collection to the Academy and commissioned me to do a gallery for them. It was the biggest project I had ever done. It was a jewel, a chance to show my stuff architecturally. I was working non-stop and enjoying every minute of it.
I found the theater and museum gallery more satisfying professionally and personally. My social life of parties and dinners vanished. I noticed my old friends vanished. They weren't interested in my professional success. I was no longer interested in their parties.
I was surprised and pleased when Bubba came over one evening. He called before and made sure it was a good time. Of course he wanted sex, but he also wanted to talk. We had a drink and then adjourned to my bedroom. Bubba wanted to screw. By this time I knew Bubba always wanted to fuck.
He wanted to talk about sex. He had a basic problem. He was a masculine and macho man who like to sucked and fuck men's asses. That was hard for him to rectify this with his images of gay men, i.e. me. That may have been a problem, but I knew this wasn't so much of a problem that he wasn't able to suck and fuck.
I suspected he had a second problem. While when it came to ordinary, everyday conversations, Bubba was shy. Sexually he was bold and adventurous. He had a high sex drive and he was happiest when he was sexually satisfied. I don't know if he was just curious about what it felt like being fucked, or if he had that pesky itching in his ass that could only be scratched by a hard cock.
It was easier to maintain your masculine character when you were fucking than when you were the fuckee. He was afraid he would lose face with his pals if they saw him getting fucked. I never had that problem. I was fucked early and often and that was good from the start. Bubba was worried.
Bubba became downright talkative when he had his cock deep in my ass. It must have released his inhibitions. I was uninhibited too, but sensible thought was problematic when his cock rubbed certain spots. He liked long sessions and the sensitive spots seemed to spread.
A sensible person would have told him that if he was so worried about being considered gay, he might spend less time fucking my ass. I was not the one to tell him that. It was too good. His fucking technique was unusual. Sometimes it was friendly and playful. It could change into a deeply erotic and sensual experience. He tended to keep me off balance. He wasn't the most sexually exciting man I knew, but that didn't matter some times.
I also realized that while I enjoyed it, Bubba loved it. His long probe seemed to be the perfect instrument for transferring his excitement to me. I enjoyed giving him pleasure. Sometimes the mutual pleasure was dizzying. I hadn't experienced that before.