The Palatine Rest Stop corrected 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 winarch47@yahoo.com
Living with Uncle Thomas was good, but it required a lot of adjusting. I am gay and I like sex with men, but it was difficult to adjust old attitudes and habits. Some of this was due to Uncle Thomas, but a lot was due to living in downtown Palatine. We were the only residents. If the Rest Stop was downtown Palatine, the cabin was suburban Palatine. There was no need to get along with or conform with the neighbors. The nearest farm was two miles away as the crow flies, but six miles away by road.
Over the years, Thomas had found friends and playmates who suited his somewhat eccentric lifestyle. Calling it a lifestyle is wrong. Thomas had his own life. His pals all lived near other people and came to the Rest Stop for gas, bad food, and sexual relief.
We got along well since I shared his sexual interests. When a pal came by and he wasn't on the mood, I could take him. I was always in the mood. At one point I thought always was always in the mood was an overstatement. It might have been an overstatement, but I had never not been in the mood.
Uncle Thomas was a good man to be with, but there was one oddity. There was a third element in our relationship: his cock. I saw it every day either relaxed or in action. I had heard men begging for it, squirming on it, and drinking from it.
I knew it might cause complications. There was not a snowball's chance in hell I wouldn't like it. He was afraid it would complicate our relationship. He was not prone to monogamy. He didn't seem to notice I had few monogamous tendencies.
Luckily, there was enough activity to keep me happy and occupied. Sex at the cabin or the pond was open. No one ever needed to hide anything. Your sexual needs and desires were an open book. For everyone to see and maybe shove your cock in.
Thomas had few rules, but he didn't like inflicting pain and or degradation. There were a few times when a cock didn't fit right, but Thomas disliked the "I've been bad, Daddy. Spank me," sex games. He figured that if you like sex with other men, be a man and admit it.
Thomas was attentive to Jonah. Jonah's parents were the born-again type who loved Jesus except when he preached about loving your neighbor, casting the first stone, tolerance, or love. Thomas was a nice man and one of his pals claimed he was using his cock to bring happiness into the world.
While Thomas's cock may have been a distant and perhaps an unattainable prize, there were a lot of more than willing prizes. I am not exactly a handsome man, but I was handsome enough. A mud-covered pick-up truck came in. The driver was a giant, mud covered blond guy. He grunted "Fill her up," and went to get some food.
Thomas came out. "Fred needs to clean up in the pond," he said and then he added in whisper," You'll like him. Can you take him there?"
"Are you sure?" I asked. Thomas smiled. He took over the pumps and I went with Fred. We went to the pond, stripped, and jumped in. He was dirty enough to leave a ring, but the spring worked its magic and the dirt vanished.
When he got out, I did a double take when I saw his cock.
"You like them big?" he asked.
I nodded. "I do, but your cock might be out of my league," I said.
"Would you like to find out?" he asked.
"I'm a bit uneasy," I said.
Fred smiled. His face changed and he looked friendly. "I'll be careful, uneasy is better than no. You are tempted?" he asked.
I nodded. "I do like them big," I said as he dropped to his knees and swallowed my erect cock. I realized that getting an erection was not the right way to say I wasn't interested in sex. His tongue was kicking my cock head.
"Precum," he said. "You are ready, aren't you?" I nodded.
"Does a guy shooting off in your ass turn you on," he asked. I didn't answer, but I blushed. "I shoot off like a fire hose," he said. "You'll taste it in your fucking mouth!"
This wasn't Fred's first-time fucking. He knew every possible way to get in my ass. He got inside and I was soon squirming on his love pole. He shot off. I didn't exactly taste it in my mouth, but it was close. We went swimming again and then he sucked me off.
Would you like to take my cum the next time I come by?" he asked. I nodded.
"Sometimes guy needs to swallow twice," Fred said.
"I'd like that," I said.
"I'd like that too, and I like you," he said.
When I got back to the pumps, Thomas asked me if I was okay. I said I was better than okay. Thomas smiled; all was well.
I met a guy they called the Rev a week later. The Rev was a tall, thin, bald man who looked as if he had been improperly assembled. The pieces of his body were fine, but he was a bit like a puppet that needed to be restrung. The Rev's real name was Milo, and he hated that name. He was a Baptist of some sort. He was an assistant minister who mostly did counselling.
He was a stealth gay infiltrator. He helped those who came to see him to deal with their sexual urges in a healthy way. Some left the church, but others found roommates when they encountered problems or spent a lot of time with the neighbors. The biggest problem was with men who found unhealthy expressions of their sexual tastes. The Rev founded a singles club for unattached men and women.
He was Thomas's non-platonic friend. He wasn't quite monogamous, but he didn't lie about it. I met him a few times, but he stuck with Thomas. A few weeks later, the Rev came by with a friend, Abe. Abe was pale, blond, and bland. Abe was over six feet tall but looked shorter. He was forty plus years old. He was an accountant, who lived with his mother until she died a year earlier.
The Rev stayed with Thomas at the Rest Stop, and I was to take Abe to the pond. He had been brought up on a farm and apparently skinny dipping was the normal way to swim. Abe stripped quickly and jumped into the water. He was in good shape and was hairy, but since he was blond, the hair didn't show. I was right behind him.
Much to my surprise, Abe played around like a kid in the water and had a great time. We sat on the edge, and he told me this reminded him of skinny dipping with his uncle Rooney. Rooney was his bachelor uncle and wasn't burdened with an aunt. The aunts in his family were consistently unpleasant and sour.
Abe told me that Rooney was lots of fun and like to swim and play games. Sometimes Rooney came with other guys who were a bit older than he was.
"Did you ever play any secret games?" I asked. That was a stab in the dark.
Abe looked at me suspiciously. "Did you play games in the pond?" he asked.
"I didn't live near a pond, but the was an old barn behind my pal's house where we could play. We played games we didn't think our folks would like," I said. Abe readjusted his cock and balls. I did the same. He smiled and I smiled.
"When I got older the games got to be more fun," I said. "I got bigger and there was more to play with." Abe's cock was getting firm. "Did Rooney have a big one?" Abe nodded. "I saw an old guy at the pool changing room once," I said. "I couldn't believe how big it was. I wanted to touch it to see if it was real."
"Rooney's was big too," Abe said. "Did you ever get to touch it?"
"No, but in high school a janitor was in the showers. There had been an accident and he was covered in soot from an old boiler. He had a nice one and I got to touch his," I said. "It was after school hours. I had left my books in the locker room."
"Did you like it?" Abe asked. He was close to being erect by then.
I nodded. "If I told you a secret, would you not tell anyone?" he said yes.
"I licked it," I said.
"Did he like it?" Abe asked. I told him I did.
"Did you ever get close to Rooney's?" I asked.
"Yes, I thought I wouldn't like it, but I did," he replied. "He was drooling some sweet stuff."
"I tasted the janitors' drool, but then he spurted the white, creamy stuff. He told me to swallow it so it wouldn't make a mess on the floor," I said.
"Did that bother you?" he asked.
"I think I was too excited to get bothered," I said, "Did you ever taste Rooney's cream?"
"A few times," he replied.
"If I could have, I would have taken that janitor's cream as many times as I could," I said.
Abe laughed. "I only took Rooney's cream whenever I could!" he said. I leaned over and began to suck Abe. He shot off a few minutes later and I took his load.
When we went back to the cabin, Thomas and the Rev were sitting on the porch in the shade. We were carrying our clothes that we had washed in the pond, so we were naked. That didn't bother Thomas or the Rev at all. Abe hadn't seen the Rev or Thomas naked before. He liked the view.
"We're all guys here, so the dress code is informal when it's hot," Thomas said. "How was the pond?"
"It's pretty. We had a good time," Abe said. "A real good time."
"It's easy to relax and let your hair down," the Rev said. He stroked his cock. Did Little Tommy tell you that Thomas and I are close?"
"Nope, but Tommy and I got close too," Abe said.
"You are good with that?" the Rev asked.
Abe smiled a said, "We had a good time. I don't think my parents would approve of it at all, but it was good." He paused and added, "We traded some stuff Tommy called home brew."
"Have you guessed that the Rev and I trade home brew too?" Thomas asked.
"I think Abe is wondering what is for dessert," I said. Everyone laughed. Dinner was good and dessert was even better. Abe sucked Thomas and me in front of the Rev. The Rev went home after dinner, but Abe stayed. There was some sex, but much more talk. Abe was a smart man trapped is a difficult family. His parents were sour and unpleasant. They were also in bad health and Abe was the only child. He was a good son, but it wasn't possible to be good enough. I hope that some time they would thank him for all he did for them. I knew that was unlikely. They lived in a world of piety and sanctimoniousness. There was no room for thanks.
His Uncle Rooney had been the only joy Abe felt. He had died several years earlier. The Rev, Thomas and I were the only joy in his life for a while. We had friends, and he was friendly. Abe developed a life. So, when his folks died two weeks apart, he wasn't alone. They had lived an austere life. When Abe got access to their bank account, they had a $200,000.00 stashed away. They didn't spend it on themselves, but they did not trust their church to spend it wisely.
Abe found some regular playmates and eventually found a partner. Abe was a man's man and he attracted similar men. I tended to have the same taste in men.
The Rest Stop wasn't like the high turnover station near an interstate, but it turned into a small chain of gas stations. There were lots of small stations around. When the owner died, Thomas bought them and updated them. The key element was the phone number for when you were in the middle of nowhere and were running out of gas. The stations were in remote out of the way places, but you could get gas if you needed it. We never charged extra for the gasoline. Most people were so grateful they added ten or twenty for a tip.
We added a flat tire service too. The number of sorority girls who get a flat at midnight in the middle of God-knows-where is astounding. Our people were all honest guys, and they knew that if anything off color happened, they would be fired after the castration. We had a reputation.
Uncle Thomas was my father's youngest brother, born 12 years after my dad. He was one of those men who reach a plateau and never look older after that. He was sixty. My dad mailed him a card. I suspected he had to mail it without my mother's knowledge. She knew how to maintain a grudge.
Donald visited us regularly and he had met many of Thomas's friends. he contacted them and arranged a little birthday party. There were ten or twelve guys who had known him for years. Old Gary would provide the food and it was to be at the pond.
Young Gary, The Rev, Abe, Scooter and his buddy Skeeter, and Jonah were coming as were two guys I didn't know, Terry and Rabbit. Donald mentioned to the guest they were responsible for lubricating their asses. Donald told them this wasn't an orgy, but some intimate celebratory fluids might be exchanged.
The men arrived between 11:00 and 11:30 on Saturday. All went to the pond. It was a humid, 90-degree day so everyone was naked, and in the pond, immediately. It wasn't a surprise party and Thomas was in a good mood. I didn't know Skeeter. No one mentioned the guys' jobs, but I knew Skeeter was a State Trooper. I knew he liked Thomas a lot and going to a gay sex party was a risk. He didn't need to worry. Thomas's friends were lots of things, but being a gossips was not one of them. I had visualized an orgy as being a frantic, crazed event. Ours was relaxed and calm. It was odd in one way. The pond was one of the few places where the men could admit they were gay, and act on their urges freely. They could perhaps do that in their bedroom, or with a pal in a basement rec room. Here they were outside with men who shared the same interest. Everyone knew and it was fine. Everyone liked to suck cock and fuck. Everyone knew your interest and shared them. No one thought that was evil or bad. You could be yourself.
I would hate to think my reaction to this was odd or unusual. I wanted to suck them all and I wouldn't object to a cock or two massaging my ass. I was standing next to Skeeter. "It's really strange here, but everyone seems okay with it," Skeeter said. "The men seem open minded." "You aren't in Kansas anymore," I said. "Everyone here likes what you like and does what you would like to do." "I guess I know that" he said. "It's hard to get your head around it." "Sucking a cock is just a nice way to shake hands here," I said. "Everyone knows when you cock is down a guy's throat or up his ass it can shoot off at any time." "Does that bother them? Do they get mad?" Skeeter asked. "With a guy that looks like you, they are more likely to think they won the lottery," I said. "Do you like that?" he asked laughing. "I sure do. There is one thing that is hard for me," I said. "I want it to last, but some cocks lack stamina. I love when a guy can hold off and keep on fucking. When he pops it is a real ball drainer." Skeeter laughed adding, "I tend to have a short fuse." "I can pretty much assure you that won't be a problem for you. The guys are good about a hot stud's cock juice," I said. "The taste of a man's home brew is good when it's fresh or aged. I suspected that a bunch of naked, gay guys would work things out and they did. I like to think of myself as an inexperienced kid exploring the sexual alternatives. The men who know me seemed to think I am a slightly crazed bottom who could use my sphincter to all but masturbate any cock that found its way into my ass. I could appreciate any creamy offerings I received in my ass. I have another good skill. I never confused orgasms with love. I was friendly and appreciative, but that was the extent of the connection. That was good for most of the men. For many of them a live-in boyfriend would screw up their lives. In Romance novels giving up all for love is a common plot. It rarely works in real life.