The Quarterly Board Meeting
Bald Hairy Man
This is pure fantasy. If you are offended by stories about gay men and gay sex, or if you are under age, DO NOT READ IT. It is not a guide to safe sexual techniques. It does not depict real men, or real situations. It does not depict necessary safe sex practices. Fantasy characters can do anything they want, real men can not!
I am Michael Miller Masters. I was named after my mom and dad's fathers. That was fine, but in Junior High School I was known as Three M. That name was soon abbreviated to 3/M and followed me for the rest of my life. My father was a science teacher and eventually became a school principal. In college I was a double major in Art and Education.
I became a teacher too, and eventually became the head of the Art Department of of the Abraham Lincoln High School in East London, Co. Shortly after I came to the school, our school board was taken over by members who were into economy and opposed to "frills." Eventually, I was the only member of the department. I also did the set designs for school plays and decorations for the proms. I am a good teacher, and some of my students won state wide awards. I had no life outside of the school.
I am unmarried and didn't date. The locals assumed I was gay. I had no "gay" mannerisms, but some seemed to be afraid they might catch a case of gay if I got too close to them. I was too well liked by the students to be fired. Technically gay men were tolerated. However, given a choice between a gay man who was considered for a promotion and a straight man, the choice was always for the straight man.
You can not make a living as a professional gay man. I loved my job and wanted to keep it.
I had been at the school for eight years when some one knocked on the door. I opened it I faced a well armed, drunken, father who wanted to kill his daughter's boy friend. I confronted him and got into a heated and very vulgar argument. My classroom is on the first floor and as I argued with the drunk, my class had a chance to jump out the windows and escape. They called the police. When the father heard the police sirens, he noticed the students were gone. I never got the name of the boy he wanted to kill, but it seemed he wanted to shoot someone. I was the only available target. Luckily he was so drunk that he missed my heart and shot me in the left leg. I collapsed, hit my head on a desk, and was was knocked out.
I woke a day later in the middle of the night. I was in the hospital bandaged and very confused. My leg was badly injured, but my head injury had caused internal bleeding in my skull. The knock on my head was potentially more serious. My doctor and the surgeon had set my leg, and stopped the internal bleeding in my head.
This happened at the beginning of the semester, and I would be unable to teach for a month or two. The school board knew an opportunity when they saw it and fired me.
The local newspaper ran a front page article on me headlined, Local Teacher Fired for Saving Student Lives. The story got nationwide attention. The students and their parents were up in arms. The head of the School Board gave a poor interview to a local television station that made the national news. Even worse it made it to the opening monologues on the late night television programs.
The Board rehired me and hired an additional art teacher to help me. I was in a wheel char and back at school a month later. I got a raise. The chair of the board was not into admitting he was wrong. He resigned and his replacement was the mother of one of my prize students, Margery Dunlop. Mrs. Dunlop's husband was a stock broker and they had four children, two of whom had taken my class. She was an intelligent, sweet, pleasant woman and I wondered if she could deal with the board.
It turned out that Mrs Dunlop didn't suffer fools lightly. That is an understatement. She objected when board members tried to grandstand or were off subject. If they ignored her, she did not take prisoners. She never raised her voice or got excited, but she always prevailed. The loudest board members resigned out of embarrassment.
I lived in a small two story house that was impossible for a man in a wheel chair or on crutches. My parents came and sorted out my living arrangements. They found a one level house, bought it and moved my stuff into it. As a school principal, Dad was used to dealing with emergencies. I was shocked he did it, but he told me I had more important things to worry about. I remembered why he was a school principal.
My GP was Dr. Robert Stone. He was a middle-aged workaholic. I met his wife at a school play once. I knew why he was a workaholic. He came by every day to check on my progress. Stone knew I was gay and had no problem with it.
When I went home, I had a physical therapist come by every afternoon. Ted was a big, blond, body builder. He looked like a blond Bluto, but he was careful and helpful. He often made dinner for me.
The father of one of the students who had jumped out the window of my classroom was Robert Jones, the Methodist minister. His church was part of an organization called "The Helping Hands." They were members of three congregations who helped people in need. Food, house cleaning, and yard work were their specialties. They were helpful. I could walk some in six weeks, and was almost in good shape by Christmas. By good shape I mean not that crippled. My bad leg was now shorter than my good leg.
My social life changed as a result of the incident. Dr. Stone checked on me several times a week after he finished at the hospital. One night he came in late after dealing with an emergency at the hospital. He found me naked in the bathroom getting ready to shower. I slipped and almost fell, so he joined me in the shower to make sure I didn't fall. He noticed I am well hung and nature took its course. I fondled his balls. He got hard.
That could have been embarrassing if it hadn't been so good. He took my load and I shot off so much he thought I was a natural wonder. It was a total success.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm more than okay; are you still fully loaded?" I asked. He nodded, and came close enough for me to suck him. He was drooling precum, and I knew he was close. I wrapped my lips around his knob and then caressed it with my tongue. A minute or so later he filled my mouth with his man seed. He moaned as I gobbled up his sperm.
We calmed down and he gave me a quick once over and went home. As he left, he asked, "Do you think we could do this again some time?"
"I hope so," I replied. He smiled and went to his car. I had taken a partial load a few times before when I was in college. It had been okay. Dr. Stone's sperm was a lot more than okay. It excited me and I enjoyed it.
A little later Dr. Stone told me he had friends, close friends. All were in a similar sexual situation to his. Ted, my therapist, was a member of the group that included a detective inspector, a bank president, a fire marshal, a dentist and two ministers.
Dr. Stone invited me to what he called the Quarterly Meeting. He told me I would enjoy it. "It is part social get together, part support group. Sometimes it turns into an orgy," he explained.
"How often is sometimes?" I asked.
"The group isn't organized enough to keep records, but the chance it turns into an orgy is close to 100%," Stone said. "Nothing is required, but as far as I know, no one has said no yet. Gay men tend to do what gay men do."
"I have some impressive scars and look battered," I remarked.
Stone laughed. "A friend of mine once said that when dogs are looking for sex, they never look at the faces," he remarked. "For my friends, you look great were it counts."
He told me about his friends. Laurence Hardy was a wealthy banker. Lawrence Hardy's family had owned his bank for several generations. They had recently sold it to a regional bank. It wasn't a huge bank, but when you own the bank outright, the sale left him wealthy. He was in a marriage of convenience with a woman. They were friends, but not lovers. Ted told me Lawrence hosted the Quarterly Meeting. Ted said it was originally a chance to meet and greet other men.
While meeting and greeting other men was good, Dr. Stone knew sex was better. Hardy and Dr. Stone were smart men, and attendance increased. Hardy had a secluded cottage in the woods thirty miles away. It was private and convenient.
Two weeks after the school's summer vacation started, I was with Dr. Stone and Ted driving to the Quarterly Meeting. The Hardy house was down a back road and you turned onto a dirt path through the woods. The house was a two story farm house type with several attached wings. Lawrence greeted us on a broad porch. We were the first guests to arrive.
Lawrence was a tall man in his late fifties or early sixties. He looked a bit like a Victorian Dandy with his close cropped beard. "Michael, I've given you the first floor bedroom, not knowing if you could get up the stairs," he said. "Is that okay with you?" he asked. I said it would be fine.
"It's next to the pool showers. You may see a lot of naked men passing by. I hope that won't bother you," he added.
"I doubt that will be a problem. I can bare up," I said. We all laughed.
"It's going to be a hot weekend, so you won't need to wear your white tie and tails for dinner. The dress code is informal," Lawrence said. He was wearing a tee shirt and shorts, which he stripped off, exposing his well tanned, fit body and his impressive genitals.
"I'm not sure that my body it fit for prime time, unless you are into scars," I said.
"I would hate for you to think we are superficial, but Stone mentioned you are well endowed. No one will be looking at your scars," Lawrence said with a smile.
Another car drove up with Chief Smith from the fire department, and Dallas Whitman, from the Life Eternal Baptist Church. Chief Smith was a bearish man. He was fit and sported a well groomed beard. Dallas was every inch a redneck. He had visited me in the hospital since several of his church members' children had jumped out the school windows. He visited the hospital regularly and dropped in to see me. We went in the house and talked. Conversation was easy and was unexpectedly normal for was was to be a sex party. A half hour later three more men joined us. Detective Morrison I knew from the investigation. Dr. Smiley was a dentist, and Bob Jones was the Methodist minister.
Lawrence said he had lunch ready, and suggested that we take our stuff to the bedrooms and get more comfortable. "3/M is new to our group, so I should tell him we are usually nude, but he should wear whatever suits him," Lawrence said. "We let nature take it's course."
I was a little surprised when Dallas was sharing my room. He was solid, hairy, and heavy. "None of us are male models," he said. "None of us are puritans either. We are all comfortable together," he said. "It may seem odd. I should tell you, it seemed unnatural and bizarre the first time I attended."
"You are comfortable now?" I asked. He nodded.
"How long did it take" I asked.
"The men here are all pleasant and friendly. The sex is intensely pleasurable. I had thought of sex as a solitary activity. These men were as interested in giving pleasure, as in feeling pleasure themselves. They knew things about my body I hadn't guessed existed. I thought sperm was just a biological necessity. I didn't realize it was a gift or a thank-you note," he said. "I didn't know sex was a joy, not just a guilty pleasure."
We stripped naked and went to have lunch. It was of chicken, potato, and fruit salads. They were simple and good, perfect for a summer day. After lunch we talked. I sat next to Morrison and Dallas.
"I heard your cock is impressive," Morrison said. "It is as advertised. I assumed you noticed I play my cards real close to the chest when I interviewed you."
"Isn't that rule number one for a detective?" I asked.
He nodded. "These parties were hard for me to get into," he said. "Naked men with a hard on can't hide anything. Cocks drip, drool, twitch and squirt. There is no way to conceal or hide what you are feeling or thinking."
"After the first time I came here I didn't think I would come back," he said. "That was my plan. My cock had another plans. It and I had never felt what we felt here. I was like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time. The second time I came here I took a cock up the ass for the first time. It's a shock when you are thirty-seven and discover a new sex organ."
"Are you planning to fuck me?" I asked.
"That depends on you, but I'm ready for any eventuality," Morrison said with a smile.
"I would hate for you to think I'm a slut, but I am very open minded," I said.
"Is your ass as open as your mind?" he asked. "By the way, I like to shoot into a warm ass." I smiled and said that was not a problem.
I looked around ans saw that several me were sexually engaged.
"How do I get in your ass without hurting your game leg" Morrison asked.
"I think I would have to be on my back," I said. Ted came over to us. He had overheard our conversation.
"I can hold him so his leg doesn't get hurt," Ted said. "I know three is a crowd, but I'm okay with it if you are." A minute later my ass was wide open and Morrison was nudging his cock into my hole.
Dr. Stone was near us doing a fancy dance on Lawrence's cock. Stone was moaning in pleasure. I got distracted and lost my concentration. Morrison noticed and popped his cock through my sphincter. His knob rammed my prostate and I was in heaven.
I moaned and Morrison cried, "Oh baby!" as he pushed deeper into my ass.
I know that life can be strange and can take odd and unexpected turns. Morrison liked it a lot and he gave me and my ass rave reviews.
Morrison, Dr. Stone and Ted found ways to have sex with me without hurting me. That became sort of a parlor game for the other men. They developed low stress sexual techniques. They were mostly genital connections with limited body contact.
There was a sling. It was a low body-contact device anyway, but hosting my bad leg onto the high stirrups was impossible. Chief Smith found a way. He lowered the part of the sling that supported me and rigged a support for his chest so he could float above me. He fed me his cock as he sucked my cock. Only our mouths and cocks connected.
I knew him slightly. He was heavy, hairy and graceless. His cock was the size and shape of a beer can. As soon as my lips wrapped around his cock, he began oozing precum: thick, sweet precum. It was a taste treat. He was a master sucker and my cock loved his sucking technique. After ten or fifteen minutes, he told me he was going to pop. "Do you want to take it?" he asked.
I played hard to get, saying, "I sure as hell want to take it!" His cock all but exploded as he squirted his sperm into my mouth. I loved it so much that I hardly noticed I was shooting into his mouth. I had never experienced a joint orgasm before. I was worth the wait. Chief Smith shot off the champagne of manly seed. It turned out he hadn't ejaculated a full load of sperm in years. Simultaneously exchanging sperm is exciting and emotional experience. I felt close to him and felt sure he felt the same.
That night I slept with Dallas. I was tired, but Dallas wasn't. I fell into a deep sleep. I had beautiful dreams throughout the night. When I went to the bathroom in the morning I dumped a lot of white creamy stuff in the toilet from my ass.
Dallas had a thin cock and he apparently had fucked me as I slept. I asked him about that. He said he might have taken a few liberties with me.
"You fucked me?" I asked.
"You have a nice ass," he said. That was not a denial.
"I can't believe I was that open." I said.
"You really opened up the third or fourth time," he said.
That really annoyed me, so when I burst out laughing I was surprise. I recalled I had several vivid dreams during the night.
"I didn't notice?" I asked.
"You moaned a few times when I shot off," he said.
"Do you believe in the "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you?" proverb?" I asked.
"I'm not much of a bottom, but I would take yours," he said. The day had just begun.