The Smithy 14 By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you don't like that DON'T read it. You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, 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.
The trip to Alexandria was uneventful, indeed I needed a rest after my experience with Osmin and Hussein. I did spend some time with the Engineer and Mr. MacAffee working on a problem with the boiler. A valve tended to stick and I found the problem. The two men fully understood the day to day operation of the boiler, and I understood the theoretical principles behind the machine. We discovered a curved pipe going to the valve periodically developed a vacuum, that sealed the valve closed rather than opening it. A simple change in the radius of the pipe prevented this from happening.
I wrote a letter to the shipbuilding company explaining the problem and the fix. I signed it along with Mr. MacAffee and the Engineer, Harmon. Both men were surprised at this, especially Mr. Harmon. They weren't accustomed to being given credit. Fixing the problem was enjoyable for me, but so too was the time spent in the boiler room.
The boiler room was exceptionally hot and I stripped to only under shorts. The stokers were nude except for a towel. Sweat poured from their muscular bodies. Sweat dripped from their cocks. It looked as if they were continuously drooling sperm, or precum. I found this exciting. Mr. Harmon noticed. "Beautiful aren't they?" he remarked.
"They are," I agreed. "Here were are two thousand years after the great age of classical sculpture, but look at them. They are as well formed as the classical models."
"They aren't very Apollo like to my eyes, but if Hercules is to your taste, they are impressive specimens," Harmon said. I looked at Harmon. He was in his fifties, thin and wiry, but I noticed his pants were tented. He smiled when he saw me looking at his crotch. "As a sailor I've been to Rome and seen the statues. It seems to me our English stokers are the equal to the Greek gods in muscles, but far surpass them when one looks at their privy parts."
I smiled and nodded.
"On most ships the boiler room is a place of horror. It is a death sentence to unhappy men. The Captain runs a happy ship," Harmon explained. "Many men want to command, few know how to lead."
"Your men seem to thrive here."
"Indeed they do. The work is hard, but the food is good and life is not without it's pleasures," Harmon said. "Bull much appreciated your kindness. He's never been treated so well by a gentleman of your station."
"I much appreciated Bull."
"He said you were kind and accommodating. There was much discussion among the men. They did think a gentleman was strong enough to take Bull's organ," Harmon continued. "They concluded you weren't just a gentleman, but a fine specimen of manliness too. The Captain is like you in that way."
"The pleasure was all mine."
"In that you are wrong. I doubt your pleasure could had equaled Bull's!" Harmon exclaimed. "To tell you the truth, I've never taken Bull. But I've watched him in action many times. Might I as you a question?"
I nodded.
"I take it you are a lusty and liberal man. As a sailor I have had experience with Gentlemen who lust for ordinary sailors. It seems to me there is desire to slum, to have an adventure with a man form the lower orders. I admit many seem to lose their nerve, and only a few seem to enjoy it."
"I would hate to think that was me," I replied. "My family comes from a modest a back ground. My father's eminence comes form his own hard work and genius. I was brought up in a privileged home, but I do not recall a single instance when my parents mentioned class or position negatively. I certainly remember my father speaking of his employees as a fine, hard workers, and solid as a rock, but never as the sort of person who was not of our class."
Continuing, I explained, "I think my interest is in men and the more manly, the more I am interested. It seems that many upper class men are interested in boys, or seek to be boys themselves. That is not my taste. To be completely frank. I like sex with men."
"If perfectly frank is acceptable,my stokers and I share the same interests," Harmon said. "If you were to visit their quarters and the shower room, you and they would enjoy yourselves. It's been a long while since they've had a new cock up their arses, and most have never taken a gentleman's meat. None of them are virgin's but their holes are as tight and firm as a man could wish. As you can guess. They have no problem plugging a willing ass either."
"Am I right in thinking you have no problem either way?"
"That is true. I admit I would love to watch you and Bull going at it," he said. "It would be a treat." We talked for a while longer and he suggested that I come back around five. The passengers normally ate at nine, after the heat of the day. The stokers normally were off from 4:00 to 9:00 in the evening with their dinner at 7:00. I returned to my cabin.
I met Jonathan in the passengers' shower baths. Given the temperatures, this was the easiest way to cool down. He had heard about our successful resolution of the sicking valve problem and was impressed. He had maintained his Bostonian approach to clothes and was suffering greatly from the heat. We talked and he asked me what it was like in the boiler room. I began to describe the machinery and the operations of the boiler.
"I'm sorry Robert. I meant to ask what the men were like," Jonathan said. "Sir Edmund told me the men were all but naked."
"He wasn't exactly correct about that." I replied. Johnathan looked disappointed. "As far as I could tell they were completely naked. It is stunningly hot in the boiler room. Nudity seems natural there."
"The Captain told me you have had relations with some of the crew?"
"If by relations you mean sex, that I have."
"Was it . . ." Poor Professor Jonathan Whipple couldn't find the words.
I knew his intent. "It was. It was enjoyable for the crew member and for me."
"I have read Walt Whitman. He honors and revers the honest workman. I understand that, but it's hard for me to actually conceive of being intimate with men like that," Johnathan explained.
"We all share the same apparatus and equipment and much the same drives," I said. "If Mr Darwin is right the drive for sexual union predated university education by thousands of years."
"You don't believe education removes the need for sexual activity?"
"I don't believe that one bit," I replied. "Sex is at the core of human existence. Without it we vanish as a species. Pretending to not care about sex is an affectation, or a perversion. The humblest workman feels the same urges we do. Fate has left him with a different education and a different salary, but I assure you, his cock feels as much as ours do." As we talked I mentioned I was visiting the stokers later in the day. Jonathan wanted to come with me. At first I told him no.
Sex isn't a spectators sport as far as I'm concerned. I don't think of it as a play and audience situation. I have been in group situations, but while the members of the group may watch sometimes, they are participants in the group activity. Every time I watch men having sex I seem to join them. I explained this to Jonathan. He understood.
"I would like to go with you and join in," Jonathan said.
"This is not going to be a lecture on a learned subject," I emphasized. "These men like to fuck an be fucked."
"That is fine with me. I can do it."
"Have you been fucked?"
Jonathan nodded. "the Captain did it first. It hurt some, but I was so excited by the Captain, it was fine. Then Mr Wyeth, Sir Edmund and Jimmy all did it."
"And you want more?"
"This may sound strange, but the more I do it the more want to do it," Johnathan said in a whisper. "Truthfully speaking, I didn't know you could feel as much. When I first played with the Captain I was horrified he might spill his manly juices on my body, or he might shoot his seed into my mouth. Sucking him was like sucking a oaded gun. Now I could take a bath in cum and brush my teeth every night in man seed."
I told him I would speak to Mr. Harmon and see if another gentleman would be welcome. Jonathan left and I went back to the boiler room. Mr, Harmon had no problem at all. Jonathan and I got to the stokers quarters at five. Mr. Harmon greeted us and introduced us to two of the men, Basil and Gordy. He said we would be taking a shower bath with them.
We stripped and went into the small shower. The room was eight by six feet with two shower heads. Basil was brawny and covered in black hair form head too toe. The coal dust made him look even darker. Gordy was quite small, but just as muscular; he was a Scot.
I must admit Jonathan got off to a good start by getting erect as soon as he saw them. Johnathan is well hung and while the two men might have been a little uneasy with men they didn't know in the shower, they knew what they liked. The erection seem to clarify the situation for the better.
It was hard to say how Basil and Gordy were equipped. The coal dust and soot seemed to concentrate at the groin and it was a dark and forbidding area. Johnathan helped Gordy clean up and I was with Basil. One nice thing about helping some one shower is you get to discover a man's erotic regions. Basil was a crude looking man, almost gorilla like in his appearance. Cleaning made him look more sanitary, but he certainly didn't look like he would ever pass for a courtier at Marie Antoinette's Versailles. His tits were large, pink and sensitive in the extreme. When I touched them his cock immediately responded. It was built like him, brawny and solid.
After he was cleaned up, I thought his genitals were all goat balls and foreskin. No cock was viable. When I touched his tits the cock appeared. The skin was thick, like a heavy pastry on a pie. Soon it was stretched paper thin by his massive tool.
I glanced over at Jonathan. He was washing Gordy's hair as Gordy sucked him. Johnathan had lost his fear of working men. As for Basil, when he was excited he got on his hands and knees and opened his ass. I hunched over him, easing my cock into his ass and sill playing with his tits. Basil moaned in satisfaction as my member slipped into his hole.
His ass wasn't tight, it was welcoming. I slipped in easily and my meat was enveloped in his quivering rectum. I know many men think of another man's cock invading the others private parts is unmanly. I felt more like my cock had found a home away from home.
As I fucked Basil, Bull and another stoker joined us. There were now seven men in the small room. There was no where to turn without encountering an erect cock. Mr. Harmon poked me with his thin and long member. Jonathan helped Bull clean up, but soon was captivated by Bull massive member. Jonathan bent over to suck it. Jonathan's ass was open and Gordy went to fill the void. Jonathan took this well. Gordy wasn't horse hung, but he was well formed.
This was the first time Jonathan had been in a group of like minded men. All of us shared his interests and desires. Every cock, every mouth, every ass hole was available for his use and pleasure. The only cost was to make his own body available for their pleasure. There was no romantic trappings, no intellectual posturing, all was simple and direct. Personal sexual pleasure and shared pleasure was the sole objective.
I know for many pleasure is suspect. Pleasure of the flesh is the gateway to sin. Pleasure is regarded as almost evil. We were all fully grown men. We were not deceived as to the reason were were here. No false promises lured us to this place. We received only what we gave. It was only for a hour of enjoyment, but that was the best hour of the stokers' day and the best hour of our day.
Bull bellowed as he released the rich product of his balls. Jonathan was there with his mouth open catching the sperm as it spurted through the air. As the ejaculations lost their power, he took Bull's cock head into his mouth and sucked the remaining seed from the slit. A little later Basil took Jonathan's cum as Gordy fucked Jonathan to an orgasm.
I was with the fourth stoker, who was called Jumbo. Jumbo was big like his name, but was mute. He wasn't as tall as Bull, but he was just as massive. He was shy and I went to him; he was too timid to make an advance. I think he was virtually deaf too. His eyes struck me as lively and I had the impression he was very much aware of the world around him.
I helped him was and noted scars on his back. He had been badly beaten at some point in his life. Later Mr. Harmon told me that for Jumbo the boiler room was paradise of kindness and respect. He had been vilely abused by his family and by his previous employer. That he was fed every day seemed almost miraculous to him.
After helping him clean up, I fondled his balls and cock. He liked that and his cock responded. I dropped to my knees and sucked his foreskin into my mouth. He loved that. As his cock grew I realized it was somewhat oddly shaped. He was amply supplied with thick skin. Trapped inside the skin were his pungent ball juices.
The juices were thick and gamy. I knew the men showered several times a day and I knew Mr. MacAffee and Mr. Harmon insisted they peel back the skin and clean the head and the foreskin. If grit got in the space it could be painful. I realized that Jumbo must have produced a particularly strong brew.
His cock head was small, but the slit was wide. When my tongue explored his slit I tasted the same pungent juices as they emerged from his balls. He head was quite sensitive in spite of its small size.
Fully erect his cock was shaped like a cucumber. It was tapered at each end and thick in the middle. When he was fully erect, the thick skin provided a soft wrapping for the hard core. It was as if his cock was cushioned. I got up after a while and Jumbo sank to the floor so he could suck me.
I got the impression Jumbo thought I was a delicate porcelain figure that needed to be treated with care. After a short while sucking me we went to the quarters where we could get more comfortable. We got in the sixty-nine position. He loved this since my cock was the prefect shape for him to swallow whole. Once it was down his throat he swallowed and the contractions felt wonderful for me. I couldn't do the same for him, he was too thick.
I switched positions and sat on his cock. I had covered Jumbo's cock ins spit and Mr. Harmon's cum lubricated my ass. My sphincter had no problem taking the taped tip of his member, but the middle was a challenge. Once it was it it was a wonder. It was comfortable, but very filling. It was so thick I wasn't sure there was room for my prostate.
Jumbo ejaculated when I was fully impaled. It was a single shot of sperm shot with great force. There was at least 30 seconds or a minute between each ejaculation. Each shot added to the sperm lubricant in my ass and made it more comfortable for me.
It was a wonderful experience for me and for Jumbo. After a minute or so, I slipped into a sexual fog. Mr. Harmon and Bull helped me get off of Jumbo. Mr. Harmon told me the rich brew of man juices drooled from my ass when Jumbo pulled out. It was lovely he said. Jonathan and I had to get to dinner, but the hour we spent with the stokers was a revelation to Jonathan.
Later that night Mr. MacAffee told me it had been a revelation for the stokers too. They had not had any good experiences with gentlemen before and the thought we were real men as well as gentlemen. They also hadn't realized Jumbo liked to fuck. They had aways fucked him. There was no way to talk to him and he was shy and somewhat passive, so they assumed he liked the bottom. Now they knew he liked to top. They were willing, so Jumbo's life took a turn for the better.
Two days later we reached Alexandria and we had a few days on land. Alexandria was large and bustling. When were landed messenger brought LaFarge and me invitations from Osmin's brother Omar asking us to visit him. He lived in a house on the Nile near Giza and offered to show us the historical sites of the area. Omar ended by saying if there were other men with our liberal and generous dispositions with us, feel free to bring them with us. It would be a great honor for him to repay us for the honor we had bestowed on his brother's humble home.
The next day we were at Omar's home outside of Cairo on the Nile. LaFarge knew Omar was a well known horse breeder and he asked Jimmy, our cowboy, to join us. I had not spent much time with Jimmy, but LaFarge knew him well. I think of myself as a preceptive man, but had not noticed LaFarge had befriended Jimmy. They struck me as an unlikely pairing. LaFarge was a distinguished scholar and I wasn't sure Jimmy had read a book.
Omar's home was more of a small palace than a house. It was larger and more expansive than Osmin's house in Algiers. It had extensive walled gardens and pools and consisted of pavilions scattered in these gardens. In this desert region, irrigated gardens were the ultimate expression of wealth and power. As with Osmin, it was clear Omar was an important man, but it wasn't clear to me from whence that power and wealth derived. The family was Ottoman, and originally merchants of Armenian-Turkish ancestry. They seemed to have intermarried with the Arab leader's families.
As far as I could tell monogamy played a significant role in his rise. Omar's wife was he sole daughter of a Coptic sheik of great importance in Upper Egypt. Omar respected her religion and her. She died delivering her fourth male child. Omar remarried to the only daughter of a noble Muslim family. All of this sounded like the precursor of a King Lear like tragedy. However, both portions of the family lived together harmoniously. The second wife produced only girls. Omar never favored the males or the females in his family. Omar became the leader of both the Coptic and Islamic tribes.
Omar spoke very good French and passable English. One of his grown son, Suleiman, was at this house. The remainder of his family was in Upper Egypt. When we arrived we got a tour of the house. The visit to the Pyramids would take place the next day. Jimmy went off to see the stables, LaFarge looked at the plants in the garden and I, true to my father's spirit, went to look at the hydraulics of the pumping system.
I do not believe in fate, but my father, a good Presbyterian, was much attached to predestination. The small boiler that ran the irrigation pumps was made by the same establishment the provided the boiler for the Cleopatra. It too had a valve that stuck. With a wrench and some tools I corrected that problem in a half hour of work.
It was the best half hour I ever spent. Omar was a precise and detail oriented man, and the sticking valve had greatly offended him. The boiler was expensive and had been his pride an joy. I was regarded as a genius and my protestation to the contrary were regarded as manly modesty. Omar was forward looking and felt increased technical education was necessary if the Islamic world could compete with the Western nations. He took me as confirmation of that opinion.
LaFarge had resolved some problems in the gardens. Omar collected exotic plants and LaFarge suggested relocating them so they might thrive. Jimmy's visit to the stable was a great success. He did not share the American trait of assuming he knew all. He did have some small, but useful suggestions that he presented humbly. Omar's grooms took this very well. Humble and knowledgeable is a good combination.
We ate late after the heat of the day and went to Omar's hamman to clean off the dust of the day. This bath was more traditional with all the men using towels and with no genital exposure. Jimmy was with the grooms on one side of the room. I was with Omar, Suleiman, LaFarge and Omar's chief butler, Samuel. He was a Copt. Omar and Suleiman were obviously related to Osmin.