Winter Wonderland 5
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 bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
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I discovered you could have few illusions about your sexual nature when you are in a sling. By definition, you are not looking for true love. You are not interested in intimacy or meaningful inter personal relationships.
I was naked with my cock on view and my ass was wide open and available for use. More importantly, I was available for anyone to use. I was not in the sling because I was fussy or demanding about sexual partners. I should have been shocked, but I was not. My prostate liked variety.
The men at the party were an average group. Some were attractive, some were average and a few were ugly. Ugly may be too strong a word, but these men certainly did not have a career as a male model.
Two of the good-looking men were code minimum fuckers. Yes, they possessed a cock and yes, they shoved it in my ass, but that was it. Several men were fast. I think they were used to dark alleys where you needed speed if you were to avoid being caught. They were the exception to the rule. Most of the men were experienced.
The two ugliest men in the group were top of the line fuckers. They were a Mutt and Jeff pair. Steve was tall and muscular carpenter, his face was askew somehow. His pal, Sammy, was short and fat. He was a ditch digger. They liked to share and switch off. Since Steve's cock was long and thin and Sammy's meat was thick and fat, thus they varied the experience. When one got close to shooting off, he would pull off and let the other take a turn.
Sammy could tell when I was close and he would slow his own thrusts. Once I was in control again, he would pick up the intensity. Both men asked if I had enough. "We've never had a guy go this long before," Steve said. "We understand if we've reached your limit. We can shoot at any time. We don't need to shoot in you if that is a problem. Sammy shoots a huge load, if you like man scuz. I think it's rich and creamy, if you like that sort of thing."
"What is yours like?" I asked.
"Well, Sammy likes it a lot, but he's not that picky," Steve said. He slowed his thrusting and bent over me. "I don't know if you are saving your sperm for someone special, but I love to take it. I take every drop, and swallow, no mess," he whispered. I smiled. He pulled out and Sammy returned his cock to my stimulated rectum. I sensed he was getting close. That excited me and by the time Sammy shot off, Steven was sucking up my semen. I had never had an orgasm while simultaneously being sucked and fucked before. It was intensely pleasurable for all of us. It was friendly. We were just men helping each other out.
They thought I was good looking and they wanted me to have a good time. They were quality fuckers. They asked if we might get together some other time, since they lived in the area. We traded phone numbers.
After that episode, another man replaced me in the sling. I rested a little and then Rudolf came over to me with two masseur pals, Anton and Greg. Rudolph was the acknowledged master of the stealth fuck. He had the knack of easing his cock into you without stress or drama. It seems Anton and Greg were looking for some advice on technique. They were sexually experienced, imaginative and interested in new techniques. Masseurs often had to play their cards close to the chest with new clients. Rudolf made it clear that I was open to the possibilities. They could relax and play freely, without stress.
I had just been in the sling, now I was an anatomical dummy used for a display of sexual techniques. A small crowd gathered around us. At first, I was embarrassed, but I soon realized the viewers seemed to think I had won the lottery. They did not look at me as a slut who couldn't control is sexual urges. They thought I was the chosen one. Either they wanted to be in my place or they were gathering helpful hints on advanced sexual skills.
All of the men at the party had come to terms with their sexual natures. They liked sex; they were not embarrassed or ashamed. They were the opposite of the repressed Southern Baptist fag who craved and detested sex at the same time.
Rudolph asked for a second volunteer so that Anton and Greg could both experiment. "I would like someone who is fairly new to the scene, or new to anal sex. Bill is relaxed and at ease. I would like a man who is a little nervous. That is typical of a man who is getting a massage for the first time."
One man came forward, Timmy. He was younger than most of the men at the party, but was small and thin with a hairy chest and a thick beard. I suspected the beard was to hide his age. I later found out he was a pretty boy without the beard. With the beard, he was as masculine as a small man could be.
"Are you new to the scene?" Randolph asked.
"I started sucking cock years ago," Timmy said. "I added fucking to my repertoire when I hit twenty. I have bottomed a few times. That has not been too successful, but I have a feeling it could be good. I tend to like men who are a bit rough and ready." He paused. "I've never taken anyone as big as you men."
"Does that scare or excite you?" Rudolph asked.
"It scares and excites me," Timmy replied. The men laughed. They knew where he was coming from.
"I want you to be very relaxed and calm. I will insert the excitement later," Rudolph said. There was some laughter. "My objective as a masseur is to have my client relaxed and calm. I want to work out all the tension and anxieties of daily life. I want to concentrate on his feelings. You can sense what feels good for him. We all want to give him pleasure. We all know what gives a man pleasure, but getting to that point is the question."
"When I first meet a client I never know how far he can go. Everyone has limits. We know everyone enjoy sexual pleasure, sexual release. Some men had internal limits that hold them back from full sexual release and satisfaction," Rudolph said. "You want to respect those limits. You want him to be comfortable. If you take your time those limits will shift. Sometimes it takes a while, other times it happens quickly."
"What if a guy gets scared and tenses up?" a man asked.
"Go with the flow, don't press the issue," Rudolph said. "They may leave early if I go too far too soon, but in my experience they come back. You can't fool Mother Nature; sex urges are part of our makeup." Rudolph's voice had a relaxing and almost hypnotic tone. After ten minutes of conversation, I was relaxed. Anton was massaging me. Straddled me to massage my back. I eventually felt his hard cock at my ass crack.
This did not bother me. I was mildly pleased I excited him. Anton was a muscleman and handsome. By the time his cock head penetrated my sphincter, it seemed as if that was simply meant to be.
"Nice," one of the men watching said. "Let him get deeper." That is exactly what I was planning to do. I spread my legs to let him go deeper.
Anton liked to make little thrusts combined with a rotating motion. At first, I thought these were ineffectual movements, but they seemed to have a cumulative effect. Eventually, I realized his cock was longer than I thought it was. Each little thrust eased slightly deeper and soon he was deep in my ass. The base of his cock must have been thicker that I thought too. The rotating movements massaged my prostate.
He leaned over and whispered, "You're going to shoot off soon. Don't fight it; let it flow. Butch and Randolph don't mind a little mess." In the background, I could hear Randolph talking.
"Always remember you are a masseur," Rudolph said. "Your cock is the perfect tool for massaging the anus. The sphincter is a muscle. Massage it tenderly. Lubricate it either with something from a tube, or with your own sex juices. My cock is a self-lubricating anal probe. That depends on your anatomy. When your client is ready, ease your member through the sphincter and into the love tunnel."
"It helps if you remember your cock is an implement to massage the ass, not a sex organ," Rudolph reiterated.
"When does it turn into a fuck tool?" A man asked. Rudolph laughed.
"I would like to say there is a fixed rule about that, but cocks don't seem to play it by the rules," Randolph said. "Eventually it will select the right time. I have emphasized the need to keep your client happy. You can focus on your client, but you feel pleasure too. Eventually that pleasure will take control. I warn my client and tell him I am going to shoot off and ask if they want me to pull out. Remember you are a guest in another man's body. Always be polite."
"Is it all in me now?" Timmy asked Rudolph. As Rudolph lectured, he had both massaged and penetrated Timmy.
"Oh yes!" Randolph answered.
"Is there anything else you can get in me?"
"My cock in in, but my balls are fully loaded. I can drain them in you."
"Shit, I'm shooting," Timmy exclaimed. That caused a chain reaction of orgasm, by Rudolph and Anton. One of the onlookers shot off too. His sperm splattered on my face. That was a nice touch. Anton pulled out and Greg took his place in me. He shot off almost immediately.
I went back to the hotel and hour later. I was both happy and relaxed. Julian stayed with Buster and Rudolph.
Christmas Eve was more relaxed than the normal days, since there was only one performance. There was no performance on Christmas day, and we planned to have a special dinner. We had no other events, since the crew needed to rest. Most of the local people were home with families and friends. The New York contingent stayed at the hotel. A few drove back to the city, but it was easier to have a Christmas celebration after New Year's Day.
We provided a big, buffet style dinner for the cast and crew who stayed through the holiday. This included beer and wine, but we knew this was not a problem. The bears and Lumberjacks preferred eating to drinking and our kitchen crew knew that. Elves and dancers tended to eat little and drink less. You cannot dance and drink. We had been feeding most of them for two months and the kitchen crew knew what they liked. The head of the park came by and distributed bonus checks to the staff. The show had been a great success and attendance was up 30% from the year before. Sales at the park's restaurants and shops were up almost 40%.
Ronnie, in his role as Santa had been a total success. The Park wanted our Santa to be the "real" Santa. Ronnie had made that possible. Luckily, Ronnie had the stamina of a bull elephant. The schedule of performances and personal appearances were grueling, but he never slipped out of character, never slipped up or showed irritation.
Ronnie told me that years on the stage in a hit show prepared you for that. "When you are on the stage and the public is paying top dollar to see you, every performance has to be good. No one cares if you are having a bad day," he explained. "They expect and deserve your best."
The crew tended to subdivide into groups such as the Lumberjacks, elves, dancers and stagehands. This was natural since each group shared common interests and traits. Ronnie transcended the groups and associated with all. He was smart, perceptive and very experienced.
The Director was young and imaginative, but new to the job. Ronnie had an ability to make constructive comments and give advice without being challenging or offensive. He slipped into the role of being a trusted advisor to the director, not a rival or a critic. If cast members had a problem, they would tell it to Ronnie and he would discuss it with the director. Ronnie was a problem solver, and as far away from being a Diva as a man could be.
He was also a big, hairy old man with a massive sex drive. In the gay world, big, hairy and old are not much admired characteristics. Slim, smooth and young are the style. Ronnie was horse hung and that always is of interest. Ronnie oozed masculinity. When you combined this with is affability and intelligence, he attracted some men from all of the groups and cliques.
Sexually he was an omnivore. He liked it all. He did it all and he would do it with anyone who wanted it. He was never aggressive, but that may have been a part of his personality. He never needed to be aggressive; there were usually volunteers. If he were to walk into a room and announce he wanted to fuck someone and then asked if anyone was interested, there would never a shortage of men willing to help.
While few people had seen his cock, that sort of information tends to get around. After the Christmas Eve dinner and its associated festivities, the men returned to their rooms for private parties. There may have been a tendency for single men to become depressed when they were alone and working on the holiday, but that was not an option here.
No one was alone here, and few seemed to be strictly monogamous. Even if they were, they seemed to enjoy the scenery. Everyone was friendly and most were willing to spread the wealth.
I had sent most of the staff home after dinner. I had asked the guests if they could do without maid service and have a pastries and sandwiches on Christmas day. They were fine with that. Many had become friendly with the staff, and they wanted them to have a good Christmas too. As actors, most of them had been waiters, or cooks at one time or another. They could handle things. Having less hotel staff in the building allowed them to be a bit freer and permitted a more informal dress code.
Ronnie did not need a Santa suit to look like Santa. December had been cooler than usual, but Christmas Eve was unusually warm. The hotel heating system could not switch to cooling, so the hotel was warm. Ronnie had a little Hawaiian theme party in his suite, but it became a naked Christmas party.
The bear contingent had an impressive collection of Hawaiian shirts. They combined these with the jock straps and thongs they used when dancing. They also possessed a wide range of novelty underwear. Some were see through; others were open fronted. Several men seemed to think that cock rings were formal wear.
Ronnie was shirtless and wore a kilt. An assortment of dancing bears, lumberjacks, dwarfs, elves and some of the stagehands came by to exchange Christmas greetings. Everyone had a peek and most took a lick of Santa's cheerful cock. After a short while, Ronnie ditched the kilt.
There had been beer and wine at dinner. No one was drunk, but there were relaxed and uninhibited. Most of the men tended to be uninhibited anyway.
"Boys, I would like to suggest a little party game," Ronnie said. "Some of us know each other well, others are acquaintances. I propose a lottery. Everyone who is interested will pick a number. There are two of each. When we all have picked a number, you would find the man with the matching number and hook up."
"I was at the party where we did this; it resulted in some odd pairings, but most were both unexpected and successful," he explained. "Let me tell you a deep dark secret; most of us share common interests. All you need to do is connect; there was no other requirements, other than being polite and asking first. I was wondering if we might give this sexual lottery a chance. Are any of you men game?"
It was no surprise that almost everyone was willing. We were gay and most had been drinking. Ronnie was the first man to draw a number. "I've got number 8!" he announced.
"Hot damn!" a voice cried. It was Gene, a five foot-three elf. "As long as you don't roll over, I'm happy!" Everyone laughed.
My playmate for the night was one of the Lumberjacks they nicknamed Fred. The nickname came from Fred Flintstone, but Fred was not that well groomed. His beard was the size of a raccoon. He was hairy, just short of being a county fair sideshow material. The men claimed he did not shower; he had to rent a carpet cleaner. The park hired him because he had a beautiful bass voice. He could reach foghorn depths, but he was still in tune. Dancing was a problem for him.
I had seen him, but not met him. Fred was six-feet-seven inches tall and 300 pounds. He did all the dance routines, but it was hard work for a man of his size. He did little more than perform, eat and sleep. Many of the bigger men had average equipment. They were so big, average tended to look small. Fred's cock looked small.
Fred and I talked briefly and I fondled his cock. It began to grow. I hate to be superficial, but when it grew, I became interested. When it continued to grow, I became more interested. He was uncut and when his cock head popped out of the skin, he was oozing. I started sucking and he oozed more.
I became enthusiastic and he warmed up. I liked beefy, well-hung man. Fred like them young. He was old enough for me to be young. He had not been a participant in any of the sexual entertainments of the last months. He was too tired to frolic after rehearsals or performances. He had been saving up.
"I haven't played with a new guy in a year or so," he said. "Am I too fat for you?" I said he was fine. This had been his first gig in three years. They had loved his voice but told him that had to lose 70-80 pounds to get the job. He joined health club and lost the weight, before he came to rehearsals. "This show has been great for me. I may have another job lined up in New York, but it has been a hard year. It has been worth it, but it was still hard."
"If it told you that you look like a borderline muscleman, would you be pleased?" I asked.
He smiled. "I sure as shit would. The last guy I fucked with told me he liked the Moby Dick types," Fred said. "I've met some guys like them fat, but most of the time they are abusive. They were sadists. I am definitely not a masochist."
"I am pretty vanilla," I said.
"I like vanilla too," Fred said. "As you can guess, I had a big appetite; I like a lot of vanilla! My balls are so full they hurt." We talked, we played some and then we went to my suite and we fucked.
I fucked him first. Fred was very accommodating, but he was also pleased when I accommodated him. I think I may have gained weight that night he shot so my sperm into my ass so many times.