Thunderbird Hotel

The Thunderbird Hotel

By Bald Hairy Man contact at bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com

This is a fantasy. If you object to gay sex and sexual activity, do NOT read this story. It is not intended for anyone who is underage in whatever place they live. No effort at safe sex is made in this story. This is not a sex manual.

I knew it was a bad day to drive, but I had a call from my cousin in Charleston. John said his mother was sinking and they wanted to have a surprise informal family reunion while there was still time. The day before Thanksgiving is the worst travel day in the nation. It was too late to get a plane so I had to drive. I left Washington at 5:00 A.M..

I made it to Richmond by two in the afternoon, a trip that should have taken two hours. I would have turned back, but the northbound lines were just as bad. By seven I was in North Carolina. It was another three hours to Charleston, but I was dead tired. The weather forecast was for rain, sleet and a chance for freezing rain. I decided to find a motel, get recharged, then drive to Charleston on Thanksgiving morning.

I wasn't the only one with that idea. All the hotels and motels near I-95 had no vacancy signs blinking. I drove off onto Rt. One and found one somewhat down at the heals place, the Thunderbird Hotel. The sign said it provided free breakfasts and had big rig parking. That usually isn't a sign of four star accommodations.

The place must have been fifty or sixty years old. It was two stories, covered in turquoise, charcoal and pink storefront panels. It was a period piece. The sign was a huge, neon confection, with a totem pole, tee-pee and Indian chief in the design. Unexpectedly, all the neon was working. I would have thought a good part of it would have burned out by now.

I went in the lobby. It too was a period piece and more important, it was clean. I asked for a room. The man at the desk was pleasant and gave me a room on the second floor. "We don't have an elevator," he said. "Is that a problem?"

I said no.

"We have a big party renting most of the rooms on that floor," he said. "If they get noisy, give me a call. I will handle it."

"Is there a place to eat nearby?"

"We have a restaurant in the back," the desk clerk said. "It faces the pool." I thanked him and went to my room. At first I thought the room had all its an original furnishings and decorative scheme. It was 1957 at it loudest. I realized that wasn't possible. Everything was new, or restored. The room was clean and the bath was nice, if you could get by the color scheme, salmon and gray.

I was starved so I decided to give the restaurant a try. It was called the Wigwam room. It was about half full, but there was some sort of an event in a function room to the side. The food was better than I expected. Everything was fresh and well prepared. I was finishing up dinner when I noticed all the customers were men. Not only was the clientele male, it had a distinct tendency to be big, brawny and bearded men. I assumed this was due to the strong trucker element at the hotel.

The meeting in the function room broke up. These men were massive and hairy. I overheard them talking and realized they were members of a bear club. This was a party for those who couldn't get home to their families. They were loud, but friendly.

I finished my dinner with a slice of pie. It was obviously home made. When I went back to my room, I discovered the bear club all had rooms on my floor. I turned on the TV and looked for the weather channel. A big storm was building. It seemed as if I might not be able to get to Charleston on Thanksgiving day after all. I fell asleep watching television.

When I woke, it was 11:00. I was thirsty. I put on a bathrobe and went to the coke machine at the end of the hall. I ran into two shirtless men at the machine. One of the men was wearing only boxers. They were laughing about something.

The man in boxers looked at me. "Sorry, I guess I under dressed," he said.

"It's not a problem for me," I said. "It appears we're all guys here."

"Are you a trucker?" he asked.

"Nope. I'm a stranded traveler," I said. "Are you truckers?"

"Yep, we're all truckers," the man said, "This is a meeting of the East Coast Traveling Bears. We get together every few months."

"A banquet and a keynote speaker?"

The two big men burst out laughing. "It's sort of like that. By the way, I'm Wayne. My red headed friend is Eddie," the dark-haired man said.

"I'm Joe Williams," I said. We shook hands. Wayne put his arm around Eddie as we talked. I looked down and saw Eddie's cock peaking out of his boxers. I must have done a double take. "The dress code is informal!" I said as I looked up. Both men laughed again.

"Sorry about that," Eddie said.

His cock got bigger. "You men are friends," I said with emphasis on the word are. "Nice cock. If mine was that big, I'd show it off more."

"If you're a cock fancier, you're free to join us," Wayne said. Wayne looked me in the eye. "We're all friendly. We share. You'll have a good time."

I don't know what got into me. I should have gone back to my room, but I didn't. "Are all your friends as well dressed as you?" I asked.

Wayne winked at me. He reached over and stroked Eddie's cock. "We're over dressed," he said as we went to his room. Inside were five or six, beefy, hairy men. All were naked. None were conventionally attractive, but you sure would mistake any of them for girls. You could almost smell the testosterone in the air.

One looked at me. "New meat!" he yelled in a deep bass voice.

"Joe here is just a weary traveler stranded in the storm," Wayne said. "Make him welcome. Let's all play nicely."

One man came up to me. He was smaller than the rest, normal sized. "Have a beer and relax," he said. "I'm Ronnie," he added as we shook hands. He took me to a corner of the room. Ronnie was solidly built, but not huge. He had a hairy chest and a treasure tail to his bush. I must have looked uneasy.

Ronnie smiled. "This is a nice group," he said.

"I'm kind of new to this. What are the rules?" I asked.

"I haven't noticed many," he replied. "Let me tell you. If you think sex is a prelude to marriage and having babies, this isn't the place for you. If you think sex is a good way for friends to get their rocks off and help out their buddies, you're in luck. If you ask first, it's usually fine." He got closer and whispered. "So far it's been mostly sucking."

"I'm afraid I don't know anyone here," I said. "I've got no pals here."

Ronnie laughed. "We're really open minded here," he said. "We make friends easily." He looked at me for a few seconds. "You're over dressed." Ronnie reached out and opened my robe. I was surprised to realize I was half hard.

"Don't worry. You're going to make friends easily with that meat," he said as he dropped to his knees. The second his tongue touched my cock, I was rock hard.

I was shocked. My sex life had evaporated ten years earlier. A bad divorce in which I was left almost destitute and a bout with cancer had left me with no desire for sex. Now I was rock hard. I hadn't been that hard in years. I felt like a teenager again. Ronnie was a master cock sucker. I remembered why people like sex. I had all but forgotten.

"You're very close, Joe," Ronnie said as he looked up from my cock. "Do you want me to finish you off, or hold back? Most of these guys wouldn't mind a taste."

"Let's hold off," I said. Ronnie stood. I sank to my knees and looked at his cock head. It was shiny and looked glazed. I stuck out my tongue and licked it. Ronnie's cock was coated in a sweet tasting goo, precum. I had tasted my own, but never another man's cock drool. I took the entire head into my mouth and swirled my tongue around the knob. I was incredibly turned on. Ronnie liked it too.

I had been blown a few times when I was a teenager and a few times in the Navy, but had never sucked a cock before. In the Navy calling a guy a cocksucker was the ultimate insult. I was doing it and enjoying it. As I sucked Ronnie, I coaxed more precum from his balls. It did nothing but get better the more I sucked.

"Slow up, boy. I want more cock time before I pop," Ronnie said.

"You taste good," I said as I got up.

"This room is filled with redneck truckers' cock jam," Ronnie said. "If you like to milk it, there's a lot to be had." He leaned closer to me. "Freddy over there in the corner likes the high test. He thinks of sperm as cock caviar. If you want to be totally drained, go and see him. He can make your balls a few ounces lighter. Everyone else in the room is more than willing to provide replacement sperm."

Freddy was a beefy mountain man type sitting on the bed in the corner. "He doesn't mind taking it in the ass either," Ronnie added. I hadn't guessed that. I assumed guys who took in the ass were florist types.

I walked in his direction but I got waylaid by Eddie. He was on his back with Wayne pounding his ass. As I passed them, Wayne bellowed as he shot his load into Eddie. Wayne pulled out and Eddie was left holding his legs over his head and with his ass wide open. Eddie's cock was so hard it looked as if it hurt.

"Next!" Eddie said. I don't know what got into me, but I walked to Eddie and shoved my cock into his juicy hole. I wasn't lubricated except for my own precum, but Wayne's cum made Eddie's ass slick. Eddie's ass was wide open, but as soon as my cock popped into the dark side of Eddie's ass his sphincter clamped tight. He was trying to grab my cock. He couldn't hold my dick, there was way too much cum and precum in his ass to hold it, but it was fun for me. His ass was both tight and soft.

I suddenly was worried I might be hurting him. A quick glance at Eddie's face reassured me. He was feeling no pain. After ten minutes of quality fucking time, someone tapped me on my shoulder. "Can I cut in?" he asked. It was a crude looking guy. I wanted to hold off, so I pulled out and let him replace me.

"Joe's a polite one, isn't he, Monte," someone said. Monte looked like the missing link. He was short, stocky and hairy. When I say hairy, I mean caveman style hairy. He had a beer can cock and Eddie twitched as the thick organ entered his well-worn ass. Another man started sucking Eddie as Monte fucked him. Eddie was moaning in pleasure.

I had no idea what to do next, but as I walked away from Eddie I tripped and fell into a pile of men. I had no idea who they were, but a cock was near my mouth, so I sucked it. That was a good choice. It was a guy I later found out was Skeeter Sheldon. He was a first rate cock sucker, but from my point of view he was a top of the line leaker. Pre cum drooled from his cock in a copious flow. Thirty minutes earlier I discovered I liked precum. Now I encountered the mother load.

Skeeter had a long thin cock. I could easily deep throat it. As I pulled off I suctioned out all the juice in his cum tunnel. A second or two later I went down on him again and the juices were already replenished and ready for me to suck out. Skeeter looked like the Straw man in the Wizard of Oz, and may have had the same IQ, but he was a nice guy and fun. He never got tired of sucking and the sweet flow from his cock never stopped.

While I sucked Skeeter, Freddy came over and began to suck me. My cock had just been in Eddie's ass and was coated in Wayne's cum and god knows what else. That didn't bother Freddy at all. As he sucked, Freddy worked a finger into my ass. I didn't expect that, but I was so busy with Skeeter, I didn't object.

Freddy knew a lot more about my anatomy than I did. He pressed something. It was so good, I almost passed out. Up to that point in my life, I associated the prostate with adds on the TV. Freddy knew what to do with it. He massaged it and I began to shoot. As I shot, I wanted more of Skeeter's cock juice. I went way down on him. As it did that his cock exploded in my mouth. His spurts of cum tickled the back of my mouth. Freddy had deep throated me, and he swallowed my load as I swallowed Skeeter's. I could hear Eddie moaning as he shot off. There was a deep growl. That was Monte filling Eddie's ass with his home brew.

"Damn, that's hot," Wayne said. Skeeter had been sucking him, so he was watching our trio. "I've never seen a daisy chain orgasm before." We broke apart. I was worn out. Eddie got me a drink. There was a lull in the sexual activity as everyone recharged. I knew I should go back to my room and get some sleep, but I was still horny. I felt like a teenager.

Several of us went to the bath and showered. Skeeter and a pal of his, Donnie, joined me. "You were really nice to do that, Mister," Skeeter said. "I haven't been sucked off like that in years."

"What do you mean, Skeeter?" Donnie said. "You get more action than anyone else I know."

"I suck a lot more than I get sucked," Skeeter replied. He looked at me, "You're a master. Did Freddy get you with his double header?"

"Double header?"

"He likes to work on the knob and the nut," Skeeter explained. "When you get the tip and the base of the cock going, the middle has to follow. He's got a magic finger."

"No one's ever done that to me before," I said.

"Never been finger fucked?" Donnie asked.

"Never been fucked period."

"Finger fucking is okay and I like it enough," Donnie added. "It's a lot better when a cock presses the nut. There's something about a cock rubbing your prostate that's hard to resist. A finger is second best." I left the shower and dried off. I went to rest on one of the beds. Ronnie got next to me.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"It's been fun but I'm bushed."

"Hold out a little longer and you'll get a second breath," Ronnie explained. "The first orgasm is easy. It takes a lot more cock time to have a second. It's more fun."

"When I was a teenager, I use to think sex was a race and shooting off is the prize," Wayne said. He was on the other side of the bed. "It's still a race of sorts now, but now it's a marathon. Given a choice between two or three minutes of build up and two or three hours of quality cock fun, it's an easy choice."

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I said.

"The first time I came to one of these shindigs I was amazed," Ronnie said. "I had been sneaking around getting what I could at rest stops. I was scared half to death I get arrested, or run into a weirdo. Some of the guys you meet on the road pretend they aren't into man sex."

"Here no one pretends they aren't into sex," he continued. "We're here for sex. It is all no-strings-attached man sex. You don't need to be a stud muffin. You don't need to be a hunk. As long as you're willing and polite, anything goes. I didn't know anything like this existed."

"It's just sex," I said.

"What's wrong with just sex?" Wayne asked. "Sex is like food. Some food is ordinary and some is gourmet. There's no need to starve because the food is not gourmet, is there? Lets face it, you can enjoy ordinary food. Food doesn't need to be served at a four star restaurant to be good."

I smiled. "Is this a sexual fast food restaurant?"

Ronnie laughed. "Four or five hours of none stop sex isn't that fast!" he said. "The sex isn't ordinary either. When you get a bunch of oversexed men together, there's a lot of opportunity for experimentation." As we talked, Freddy snuck up on me. He began sucking my cock again. When his finger touched my hole, I shifted my legs so he had easier access. He eased two fingers into my ass. He got one finger on each side of my prostate and tenderly massaged it.

"How many of the experiments are successful?" I asked.

"I would guess they're 100% successful for someone in the group," Wayne answered. "Different stokes for different folks. I'd be surprised if everyone here hasn't had one or two top-of-the-line, mind-blowing orgasms here." Wayne moved and fed me his cock.