The Queen's Theater 3
By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you do not like that, DO NOT read it! You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, and is not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual. No effort to portray safe sex practices has been made. If you have any comments, send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
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Rod arrived at the theater late on Friday afternoon. He was supposed to be there the next morning; Burton and Denny were out. I gave him a tour of the facilities. It had a complete stage house and the liked the small seating area. He had played Broadway and he thought the room was intimate.
He was in a good mood when Burton and Denny arrived. They were good with people in any social or professional situation. They treated him as a talented and gifted actor, not as a star. They had seen some of his performances and admired them. He had played Lear in Washington. It had received marginal reviews. They understood his interpretation and the three men bonded. Rod like to talk about plays and performances. He was not interested in stardom or celebrity. The next day they were friends and colleagues.
At some point on Saturday, they had become playmates. Denny and Burton are accommodating and flexible men. As far as I could tell, sexually they liked it all with the exception of S & M. Burton said, "We top, bottom and sideways." It wasn't just that they liked it all, they were genuinely generous, enthusiastic, excited and willing. Their enthusiasm was infectious.
Many people like sex, but most are uneasy about it. I am never sure that I am doing it right, or if I am pleasing my playmate. When I was a teenager I was always afraid I would be caught jerking off, or make a mess I couldn't clean up. The nightmare was that my mom would walk in while I was shooting off.
Rod was closeted and shy. Denny thought he had either bad luck or shitty taste in men. The theater is full of handsome, slim and elegant men. Rod did not fit the pattern. He was big and did not work out.
Rod Ruthwell had been an important and successful actor for years. He was also bad boy noted for acting up and being provocative. He had been a handsome young man, but time and drink had not been good to him. He was now a beefy older man with wild hair and beard. He had ended his stint as Dr. Edwards on a long running television program a year earlier. That had been the last time he had shaved.
Rod was doing Macbeth, and his beard fit the role. His personal life was a mess. He had just divorced his fifth wife. He was going to spend a month at the Queen's Theater both rehearsing and giving acting classes for College students.
Burton and Denny knew he was difficult. When he was good, he was very good, when he was bad he was horrid. They wanted to keep him happy and under control. I think any normal person would avoid him like the plague. Burton had a plan.
Rod was ultra-macho and deep in the closet. That was at the core off his five failed marriages and his drinking. Rod came to check out the theater and he spent a weekend with Denny and Burton. They discovered his secret. New Dublin was a nice, out-of-the-way place to indulge his real passions. Rod was a big man with big passions. The Theater with the attached B & B and the owner's and my apartments was an ideal location for him the let loose. For Rod, letting loose involved drinking and sex. Burton discovered it was actually drinking or sex. He drank less when there was more sex, and if there was a lot of sex he might not drink at all.
Rod had one good characteristic. When he was working, he was always professional. He was also an unexpectedly good teacher. He was imposing, demanding, but helpful. The students who worked with him were dazzled. He loved Shakespeare and made it live for the students.
Rod was six-feet-three and 250 pounds. You needed to add a few pounds for his facial hair and four of five pounds of body hair. Rod wasn't hairy, he had a coat. His cock was thicker than it was long and uncut. He had way more skin that was needed. He had monster balls. I thought there was something wrong with them, but they were just big and filled with cum.
Burton referred to his cock as the "ass stretcher." The first few times he used that phrase it was a complaint. Later it became a compliment. Burton also used the term "gully washer" as a compliment. Rod's cock wasn't a convenient size, but it had one characteristic that eased the way. Rod was self-lubricating. He began to ooze at the first whiff of sexual adventure. His oversized foreskin saved it up, and it was ready to ease the entrance into your rectum.
His cock wasn't particularly long, but it was long enough to use my prostate as a punching bag. He loved to fuck. Once he fucked you, his ass was available for your use.
Rod arrived on Friday, Denny and Burton explored his sexual potential on Saturday. He showed up at my door early Sunday morning. Denny and Burton were still asleep. I was already up and had made coffee. His hair and beard were more disheveled than usual. I had thought he never combed his hair, but much it was wilder than I had imagined.
"I really need a cup of coffee," he said. Rod reminded me of a lost dog, who was desperate for human companionship.
"Come on in. I made a big pot," I said. "Let me warn you, it is a bit on the strong side."
"Strong is good for me," Rod replied. He was wearing boxer shorts and a wife beater. I hadn't seen his fur coat and I was impressed. The boxer shorts didn't have any buttons left and I could see into his crotch. I was all dark and hairy.
"Your bosses are . . . entertaining," he said. "I haven't had that much fun in years. To tell you the truth I'm not sure I've ever had that much fun. I may have done stuff like that before, but never sober. They told me you are a member of the club."
"I don't think of myself that way, but Denny and Burton are playful an imaginative," I said. "They seemed to know what I wanted, even though I had no idea I wanted it."
"Damn, that is exactly the way I felt," Rod said. "You put your finger on it. I was shocked, but it felt so good I just enjoyed it." He paused. "I have a little problem. I tend to get horny as shit first thing in the morning. Burton mentioned you are an early riser. I was hoping you could help me out."
"You certainly have a direct approach," I said.
"By the way, your bosses said your job here is limited to carpentry and set building. Sex definitely isn't part of your job description," Rod said. "I do like the direct approach, but maybe three out of ten take me up on it. If they know me the success rate drops to one in ten. I am used to rejection, so don't worry about saying no."
"I like to top," I said.
"Me too," Rod replied. "I am so horny. What if we flipped a coin? Winner fucks the looser."
"You would bottom for me?" I asked.
"I've bottomed enough when I'm drunk. I guess I can do it sober," he answered. We flipped a coin. I won and we stripped. I dropped to my knees to suck him, but we were soon in the sixty-nine position. I had assumed a star like Rod was used to being served. He was an enthusiastic cock sucker and not shy at all. He was also a heavy leaker of precum. I liked that, both because of the taste and also since it indicated he was into it. It's hard for a naked guy to hide his feelings. Cocks can't do attitude or pretend to be uninterested.
I worked my tongue into the puckered tip of his foreskin. Not only had he stored up precum, he had an unusually wide slit. I could get my tongue in it and lick the precum as he pumped it out. The more I licked it, the more he pumped out.
I was having a good time when I began ejaculating. I thought, "Oh, shit. I should have told him." that was just before I discovered that Rod loved sperm. He was happy milking every drop from my balls. He wanted it all and I didn't hold back at all. He continued to suck after he drained me. He had a completely contented look on his face.
I had won the coin toss, but after my climax, I wasn't going to get hard. Fifteen minutes later he was carefully working his cock into my ass. He took his time and we were both happy with the result. He told me that his cock was half the normal length, but twice as wide as a normal cock. that was hard on my ass ring and sphincter, but really good for my prostate. Once he was in me, every movement he made rubbed my prostate, sending me to heaven.
He pumped, thrusted and jammed it in me. Everything worked and set off sexual fireworks in my mind. I was going crazy, but he had a comparatively short fuse and he had flooded my ass with semen. I think he fell asleep with his cock deflating in my ass.
"Are you okay? I should have warned you about the sleeping bit," he said.
"It was fine," I replied. "It provided a soft landing. It was actually kind of nice." He pulled out. Strangely my ass felt empty. I took a shower and started clean up and repairs. The theater had become a local showplace and I was in charge of keeping it that way.
Rod's classes were notably successful. He came by my apartment a couple of times a week. It was a nice interlude for me and never became a problem. He asked me if I had any local pals who liked to mess around. I told him I did, but they were a bit rough around the edges. Rod told me he would like that. he said he was tired of actor types. Most of them wanted more than a fuck or blow job. The next Friday afternoon I took him to meet a couple of nice guys I had known since I was in school.
I told him my pals were mostly tops and they had to know you for a while before they let you fuck them. He said he was okay with him. I had collected on my raincheck and had fucked him. I think he liked that more than he let on. He had a hands free orgasm while I fucked him. I took that as a good sign.
We went to a small, rustic hunting lodge at foot of the Blue Ridge. I was next to the park. Travis was my oldest friend and was now a park ranger. He was a tall, muscular man with a close cropped beard. Bert was a beefy maker of handmade furniture and he had a muskrat sized red beard.
It was Bert's family lodge and was now filled with his handsome furniture. Rod loved it. It was sophisticated, simple and sturdy. Bert looked like a hillbilly, but he was a hillbilly with flair. Travis looked as if he had walked out of an old Marine recruiting poster. The men knew of Rod's acting career but treated him as a friendly man, not as a star.
I have to admit that most of our get togethers since High school had been with clear sexual objectives. Neither man live near hotbeds of gay activity. We had connected as kids and still connected. The sex was good, but I suspected Bert and Travis wanted a little variety and excitement.
We all tended to be tops, so one of us volunteered to be the bottom. We typically drew straws. I had told Rod, that if he drew the short straw the sex might be too intense for him. "When you meet them remember they may end up in your ass and they may leave a lode of cum in you." I had explained before we went to the lodge.
Rod said he understood. I noticed there was a good sized lump in his trousers as I explained the rules. I had drawn the short straw several times. I took them and it was okay, but I was embarrassed. Somehow it grew on me and it wasn't a problem anymore. Travis was the first of us to admit he liked it. The second time I drew the short straw, Bert's anal probe found something good up my ass and all was good.
We went skinny dipping in a little pond and Bert was the first to suck Rod. Bert was a good sucker, but Rod loved resting his bull balls on Bert's beard. Bert was a hairy man, unusual in a red haired person. When it was time to draw straws, Rod said he would take all of us in the ass, if he had a chance to fuck us later. That was agreeable, and Bert was the first.
Bert had a good cock for a comparative novice; it was long, but quite thin. His balls were large and hung low in a red fur covered ball sack. He fucked Rod from the rear, so his balls would flop against Rod's balls. Rod had a diminutive hole, but I knew it would stretch.
I got under him and sucked Rod's cock and licked Bert's balls. Rod was hard and dripping precum all the time, so I knew he had enjoyed it. Bert pulled out before the orgasm and Rod rolled me over and sat on my cock. He did a nice little dance skewered on my dick. Travis and Bert were impressed.
"Aren't you the bottom slut! I thought you were all top?" Travis said.
"This is new for me," Rod said. "I am an old dog trying to learn new tricks." From that point on all was well. Travis and Bert were willing to learn new tricks too. I had been a little afraid it would turn into a gang bang. I knew them well, but you never know what might happen when you are erect and needy.
Our sexual vocabulary is weak. Fucking covers a wide range of activities. Sexually crazed pounding is not the same as gently massaging an ass with your cock. Slipping a cock into your friend's rear from behind is often relaxing. Sometimes Burton all but falls asleep as he slow fucks me. I admit he was never so sleepy that he forgot to keep his cock hard, and he never forgot the climatic orgasm.
We had been at it when two men came to the door. Otha and Peyton were friends of Bert and they were friends with benefits. They were country boys but seemed to have no hang-ups at all. Otha saw Bert coming to the door naked, and by the time Bert opened the door, they were wearing only their birthday suits and erections.
I had met them once years before. I don't think they had shaved since. When they found Bert had visitors, they joined in without hesitation. Rod liked them and had a taste for sex with the "common" man. I was afraid Otha and Peyton might be too common, but that wasn't a problem. they lived by themselves in a shack in the woods, and liked anything sexual. They didn't know who Rod was, but a new playmate was good regardless.
Rod was more imaginative than we were. We have been doing the same thing for years. He introduced us to the six-man daisy chain linked cock to mouth, and then something he called inch-worming. We got in line fucking. Of course, one man only fucked, another only was fucked, but the other men fucked as they were fucked. Peyton suggested that we switch around some so everyone had a chance to fuck everyone else. He said he never felt that he knew a man until he had been in his ass. "Everyone forgets to put on airs and you to see the real man," he said.
"Forget whatever Peyton says to you," Otha interjected. "He's just a horny old coot and likes to fuck. I will say that one he breeds you, you are friends for life."
"How long did you know Peyton before you became friends, Bert asked.
"We met at a rest stop on the interstate. He shot off up my ass before I learned his name," Otha said. We all laughed.
Both he and his pal were well equipped and we adopted their "getting-to-know-you" scheme. They weren't educated men, but they understood the urges of naked men. It worked well for Rod. He thought Otha and Payton were characters and both visited his ass. I think his ass opened up and relaxed as the group played. Of course he sucked and fucked, but he took all five of us and he was still smiling.
Rod liked being one of the guys and we were all pals by the we returned to the theater. Unexpectedly, Rod was no problem for the directors. He already knew his lines. Once and a while he would make a suggestion to Burton and Denny. They were always sensible and tended to solve a problem with the staging. He was good and supportive with the other actors, helping them out with problems. He had a good influence since he knew the play so well. No one came unprepared more than once. He had an effective, more to be pitied than censored look that worked wonders.
The play was a complete and total success. It had great reviews in Washington, and helped re-establish Rod as a serious actor. We extended the run for two weeks. I thought that Rod would return to New York and forget us, but he knew we had done him a favor, and he would do summer stock for us.
We also became an unofficial rehab clinic for washed up actors. It was clean living except for the sex. We gave them a chance to reestablish their reputations. Clinics in Los Angeles, Geneva or New York had too much temptation. It was hard to find a place with less temptation than New Dublin. They weren't patients here, but Burton and Denny protected their stars.
Our next star was Hamilton Smith. He was a washed up star who had been a teen aged heart throb in the eighties. He had been the son with no common sense in a half hour sit-com for nine years. He did not make the jump to adulthood well. He had failed spectacularly in a revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof in 2001. Burton saw that production and thought poor direction doomed the project. The director was dating the co-star who was English. He reset the play in Brighton England. It became theater of the Absurd.
Hamilton was in his late fifties and he showed every year. Burton picked Death of a Salesman. Hamilton was perfect. His other problem was sexual. When he was young and pretty, he had a slew of beautiful young men after him. They had all vanished and he replaced them with Martinis. That was bad for his heath and looks.
He looked pretty average now; ideal for the play but not for his ego.