Date: Sat, 27 Apr 2013 11:26:03 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Best Sex Ever 7

Best Sex Ever 7
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

If you enjoy these stories, please consider giving a donation to Nifty.

When I lost the election, I lost my wife too. I was a nice, conservative
Republican in a nice conservative district. I was popular and had won my
previous elevation by 20%.  I was blindsided by a Tea Party candidate,
Nathan Wills, who appeared out of nowhere and won the caucuses. He was one
of the tinfoil-hat type guys.  He was worried about black helicopters,
invasion by Cuban mercenaries and the immanent conquest of American by
Muslim Dervishes.

I didn't think he had a chance. No one else thought that either. The
Caucuses that selected him had an average attendance of twenty. The total
tally was 215 to 136 in his favor. He lost the election by 30% but I was
out. I also became the butt of late night jokes on the television. Most
were of the "Do you believe that a ten-term congressman, Ronald Rooney,
lost to Bozo the clown?" sort. My opponent was bald and had frizzy red
hair.

I endorsed the Democratic candidate in the election.  There was no way
Nathan could do anything but humiliate the district. I don't regret the
decision, but the Republican press all but publicly lynched me. I was a
traitor and a liberal tool. When Nathan lost 30%to 70%, it was clear that
less than half the Republicans in the district voted for him.

I guess you could say my wife and I had a correct relationship. We had four
children. She was a good mother; I was a busy politician. I missed the fact
that she had lost all affection for me, and once the kids were grown, she
wanted to have a life of her own. I was not a part of that life. We were
well off, but most of my assets were in her name. She didn't ask for
anything in the divorce settlement. She already owned it all.

I lost the election in the middle of the recession. My old law firm had no
need to hire an additional, high-paid lawyer. Getting a job was a
problem. I was too well known and too expensive.  I had last done legal
work 20 years earlier; I had been out of the day-to-day work. I was up the
creek and found a job teaching history and civics at a high school. I tried
to make that sound good by saying I was going back to basics and working
with children, America's future citizens. No one fell for that.

There was one good thing. I had a drinking problem when I was younger. I
overcame it and when things fell apart, I kept away from booze. Being a
washed-up failed politician was bad enough, but being a drunken washed up
politician was much worse. While I technically lived in my district, I had
spent most of my time in Washington.  I really didn't know many people
well.  I soon discovered that a former politician has few friends.

I found a one-bedroom apartment in an old house.  The house looked good
form the outside and it didn't look like an apartment. There other tenants
were a retired and sickly couple, a teacher at the Community College and an
auto mechanic. None seemed very talkative.

The community college teacher, Barton Wills, was civil, but way to the left
of me politically. He liked to argue.  I don't mind a little debate but
daily was a bit much. He was barely 30 and a know it all.

I got use to teaching at school.  It was easy enough to do, but the culture
shock from the congress in Washington to 19 year olds was difficult. I
didn't know what they were talking about. The Christmas break was hard. My
wife remarried four months after the divorce. My kids had moved away.  They
weren't happy with the stepfather and decided it was best to avoid both of
us.  I was alone.

Three days before Christmas, a drunk driver rammed Barton's car running a
red light. I saw the accident and called 911. The drunk was unaware
anything happened.  That took some doing, since he was strapped by his
seatbelt upside down in his car. He was unhurt.

Barton was definitely hurt; his leg was broken and was trapped in the
crushed metal of his car. The EMT's and the cops assumed I was his
father. I tried to be helpful. Barton was calm, but in considerable
pain. Calm was nice since the drunk had began to howl at the moon. I was
worried Barton's calm may have been shock. That bothered the EMTs too.

He had his cell phone, so I called his closest friend and an Uncle.
Barton's father was dead and his mother was in a home. He was the late
child of almost elderly parents. The Uncle was on the other side of the
state, but said he would come over immediately. His friend was with his
family in New York City.

I went to the hospital with him. It didn't seem right to leave him alone. I
called the Community college but no one was there. December 22 is a bad day
to find any one. The doctors wanted me to stay. I thought that was odd. A
doctor explained that the leg was in poor shape, and amputation was a
possibility. They wanted me as a witness. They were afraid Barton might not
remember what they said to him and they wanted me to confirm that they gave
him all the information.

I think Barton knew how bad things were. I asked some questions to clarify
the situation and to make sure Barton understood. I finally asked if
amputation was a possibility. Barton looked shocked, but he adjusted
well. The doctors explained this carefully. Barton signed the release and
went into the operating room.  It was a five-hour operation. I felt
horrible about the whole thing, but when he emerged, Barton still had both
legs.

Barton's Uncle got there at 7:00. Barton was slim and almost fragile
looking; his Uncle was what use to be called a bruiser. He was a retired
truck driver and looked as if he could push the truck to its destination if
he needed too.  He went to see Barton. He came back a half hour later.
Barton was in intensive care and they had sedated him. They very much did
not want visitors. He needed to rest.

I said I was going home and asked if Uncle Gus wanted to get a bit to eat.
He said yes and we went to an Italian Restaurant. Gus was Italian and
immediately made friends with the restaurant owner.  We got special
everything. I told Gus the entire story. Gus looked like the missing link,
but he understood the severity of the injuries. We also had a good dinner.

I got a call on my cell. It was the hospital. They had my number for
emergencies.  Barton was going into the operating room again; he was
hemorrhaging. We went back to the hospital.  There was another tense hour
and a half before the surgeon came out.  They had stopped the bleeding. Gus
wanted to stay, but the surgeon said Barton was knocked out and he would
need someone the next morning. "I'm going to spend the night here just in
case we have another problem," the doctor said.  "Get some rest and be here
at 7:00."

I took Gus to the apartment. I had what I thought were Barton's keys. They
weren't so I asked Gus to stay at my apartment. My plan was to give him the
bed and I would take the couch, but he wouldn't have that. We had a few
beers and I went to bed.

The bathroom was entered through my bedroom, but Gus was apparently very
quiet.  I never heard him. I woke up at six, took a shower, dressed and
made breakfast.  Gus took a shower while I cooked. He returned to the
living room, still drying himself off. He was naked, very naked.

I remembered an old art history class in college. Naked was to be exposed
and without clothes; nude was to be without clothes, but unashamed. Gus was
nude. He was hairy, muscular and unashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed
about.

We had a quick breakfast and went to the hospital.  Gus asked me to come
along since I knew the locals. Three doctors went over the medical
situation. Barton had done well since the second operation. There were some
internal injuries and a serious concussion in addition to the shattered
leg. They thought he would be in the hospital for a week and then have a
long rehab period. It was a good conference. Gus went to see Barton, and I
went home.

Gus appeared at noon with the correct key to Barton's apartment. I had
never been in it.  The apartment was small and full. I had assumed it had a
separate bedroom, but it was a studio, and most of the room was filled with
books and a desk. Barton was writing a book. He apparent ate at his
desk. The bath had only an undersized tub.

I looked at the small room. Gus looked at the room. "Gus, I don't think
you're going to fit!" I said. Gus burst out laughing.  I looked at the
desk.  Papers covered it, and after a quick perusal, I realized they were
Barton's notes and they were in order.

"Well, you can stay with me for a while," I said. Gus said he didn't want
to be a bother. I said it was fine with me. A little company at Christmas
might be nice. That settled that. We were in an area that had poor cell
service for Gus' carrier.  He used my phone to contact Barton's mother.
That was a difficult call. I soon realized she had trouble understanding.
He went off the store to get some things.  He had literally jumped in the
car as soon as I told him about the accident.

I received a call from a nurse at Barton's mother's home just after he
left.  His mother seemed to think he was dead, or perhaps Gus was dead.  I
explained the situation. The nurse said they would do what they could for
her but, "she was slipping badly."

It was a quiet afternoon. Gus went going to the hospital for the rest of
the afternoon.  I turned on the television and then realized tomorrow was
Christmas Eve. I thought I should do something, but Christmas was my wife's
obsession.  She and the kids did all the decorating. If I had focused more,
I would have understood that I had become a guest at my own family
celebrations. I fell asleep on the couch.

I had a strange dream.  It concerned Gus, the very naked Gus I had seen
that morning. I remembered thinking how odd it was to be talking with a
naked man. At some point in the dream, I stopped talking with him and began
talking with his cock.  Gus was uncut and his foreskin formed lips.  We
carried on a nice conversation. That came to an end when I tried to kiss
his cock. I woke up with a jolt.

I was shocked by the dream.  It was fantastical in nature, but had seemed
natural and ordinary. I tried to get it out of my mind, but that didn't
happen. I wanted to see him naked again, but most of all, I wanted to see
his cock most.

Gus wanted to spend all of his time at the hospital, but the doctors wanted
Barton to rest. He was beginning to heal, but every movement was painful
and anything-resembling excitement hurt. Gus called to say he was coming
back to my apartment. The auto-mechanic who lived in the building knocked
on my door to find out what happened.

Skeeter looked liked something the cat dragged in, but he worked for the
best repair shop in town. He was the shop manager. He knew more about the
accident than I did.  The mechanic's telegraph is very efficient. The drunk
was the son of a prominent family that was "richer than God," according to
Skeeter. He was now in a sanitarium taking the cure. The drunk's father was
a total asshole, but his mother was a good woman. Skeeter thought the
family's money came from her, not her husband. He had heard they wanted to
settle.

Gus came back at 6:30 and we went to dinner with Skeeter. In Skeeter's
defense, he made a serious, if somewhat ineffectual, effort to clean up.
Gus made friends easily. By now, he knew all the nurses, doctors, and he
soon got along well with Skeeter. Barton's situation was still serious and
there was a long haul ahead. His insurance was not all it should have been.

I had a strange vibe at dinner. I had the impression that Skeeter liked Gus
a lot.  Even stranger, I seemed to have the same feelings. This was odd
since I wasn't particularly sexually driven and had never been excited by a
man before.

When we got back to the apartment and Skeeter asked us up to his apartment
for a beer.  His apartment was nice. Furnished in antiques, it was
beautiful. "You have nice stuff," I said.

"I like restoring things," Skeeter said. He went to get the beer.  Gus
called into the hospital. Barton had a problem, so he went off, leaving me
with Skeeter. I don't get to talk with auto mechanics much, other that
asking them what was wrong with my car.  Skeeter knew a lot about antiques
and furniture. The also had a beautiful Christmas tree with antique
ornaments. There wasn't much reading material in the apartment except for
some wrestling magazines and copies of the Advocate Magazine. That
surprised me.

"Are you and Gus old friends?" he asked.

"Not at all, we just met at the hospital yesterday," I said.

"You act like friends," Skeeter said. "You get along like a couple. He's a
good looking man, if you like your men manly."

"Well, I'm not into that," I said.

"That's not the way it looks to me, but suit yourself," he said. "I hope I
haven't insulted you. I have great Gaydar. Do you want another beer?"

"Sure, that would be good," I replied.

When he returned with the beer, I was at the tree.  "I remember most of
these ornaments from when I was a child," I said.

"I was lucky. My Grandma saved everything.  It was all in the attic of her
house when she died, Skeeter said. "My brothers and sisters like the new
stuff."

"My ex wife has everything I had," I said. "Your tree is beautiful.  Every
old ornament I had was damaged."

"I know I'm a grease monkey, but I'm very meticulous. I can take an engine
apart and put it back together because I put everything in the right
place," Skeeter said. "I do the same with the decorations. Everyone is
wrapped and fits into the box just right."

I finished the beer, and went back to my apartment. I was a little insulted
at his insinuations, but I eventually realized Skeeter knew something about
me that I didn't know. Gus was attractive.

Someone knocked on my door.  It was Skeeter. "I found your billfold in my
couch," he said. "I figured it's better return it now than give you a fit
tomorrow."

"Thank you!" I said. "That would have put a crimp in Christmas Eve. I'd
offer you eggnog, but I don't have any.  How about some bourbon? I have a
new bottle of Wild Turkey." He came in.

We sat down.  "I assume you are gay?" I said.

"Shit no!" he replied emphatically. "I just like sex with men."

I laughed.  "Isn't that the same?"

"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. I guess I don't mind fems, but I'm not
into that," Skeeter said. "I want to screw around with a real man, not a
florist."

"I'm not gay either, but I admit, Gus is attractive," I said. "Are you gay
if you are attracted to a single man?"

"I'd need to look that up in the official by–laws of the of the National
Gay Men's Association," he said. "My guess is that it would be classified
as a start!"

I laughed. "Well it's all a moot point since Gus gives no signs of being
gay."

"I don't want to shock you again, but he's a member of the Union," Skeeter
said.

"How in hell do you know that?"

"Well, when you went off to the men's room, we exchanged the secret
handshake," Skeeter said, "It was all under the table but he is gay and
he's well hung to boot!"

"I knew the well hung part already," I said.  Skeeter smiled.  We talked a
little longer and Skeeter went back to his apartment. I went to bed. When I
woke the next morning, Gus was sound asleep on the couch.

The apartment was normally warm, but this Christmas season was warmer than
usual and the apartment was hot.  Gus was wearing only boxers and his cock
had escaped and was on view. I made coffee, but my eyes seemed to return to
the view of his meaty organ. I'm cut and his uncut meat looked impressive.

I went back to my room and took a shower as the coffee maker worked its
magic. I dried off in my bedroom and went into the other room to see if he
was awake. I had the towel around my waist, but it wouldn't stay so I put
the towel around my neck.

I poured a cup and he sat up. "Nice scenery," he said. He sat up.

"You are putting on a nice display yourself," I said. He looked at his
crotch and saw his cock was hanging out.

"Oops!" he said as he covered up.

"I wasn't complaining," I said.  There was a quiet knocking on the door. It
was Skeeter with a coffeecake.

"My mom sent this to me. I thought you might like to share," he said. I was
naked and Gus wore only boxers.  "It is hot in here," he remarked. "It
seems I'm over dressed!"

"We're all boys here," Gus said. A second or two later, Skeeter was
naked. We had coffee and ate the cake. It was good. Gus said they were
planning to get Barton out of intensive care today. We discussed his
rehab. I had no idea what was involved, but Skeeter was knowledgeable. I
thought Skeeter was scrawny. Naked he was wiry; all muscle, but no bulk.
Gus was muscular and bulky; I am bulky, with no muscle. No one commented.

Skeeter stood up to get another cup of coffee. He was half-hard.  Gus did a
double take. "Sorry about that, but I get hard when I'm with naked men,"
Skeeter said. Gus stood and dropped his boxers. He was half-hard too.

"I hate to be direct guys, but why don't we stop playing peek-a-boo and get
down and dirty," Skeeter said.

"I'm new to this scene guys," I said. "That might be a problem."

"Just think of it as an opportunity," Gus said. "Damn you have a beauty
there!"  I was hard. He saw my erection. Actually, I was harder than I had
been in years.

My plan was to sit back and watch. That would have worked if I hadn't
dropped to my knees and tried to inhale Gus' cock. I thought that perhaps a
quick lick would have gotten it out of my system. I was wrong about that.

I ooze a little precum just before I shoot off.  My wife made me use a lot
of K-Y. I had tasted it a few times, but it was mostly K-Y and my wife's
juices.  It wasn't a thrill. When my lips peeled back Gus's foreskin, I
tasted the mother-load of man-juices. It was intoxicating and I couldn't
get enough of it. I think I had sucked a cock once in high school on a
dare. It was nothing. I didn't have a clear view of what sucking was
supposed to be. I still didn't, but I had this strong desire to milk Gus
and taste every drop of his ball juices.

During a brief moment of clarity, I worried that Skeeter and Gus would
think I had gone crazy. They were otherwise occupied.  Gus was working over
Skeeter's cock with considerable vigor. We calmed down some and Gus had to
go to the hospital.  He asked us to save up until he got back. I had a call
from Gus a half hour later.  The parents of the guy who hit Barton were
coming over.  He asked if I could be there. He wanted legal advice.

Skeeter comments about the parents were right.  The father, Robbie Miller,
was a jerk and I smelled booze on his breath.  He seemed to think Barton
should have stayed out of his son's way. Gus did not take that well.
Things were turning bad when Mrs. Miller spoke.

"Robbie, it's time for you to go home and get some coffee. I will handle
things," she said. She gave him a scary look and he left.

"I realize my son was entirely at fault and that there were no extenuating
circumstances," she said. There is no way to undo the accident, but I will
do everything possible to help Barton."

"His insurance is poor, and college pays him by the course.  Now that he is
injured, I think he's essentially unemployed," Gus said.

"I will speak with the hospital and have all the bills sent to me," she
said. "I will also take care of rehab and therapy. I assume his living
accommodations are not handicapped accessible. I will handle that too along
with living expenses," she said.

"I'm not a charity case," Barton said.

"Mr. Wills, I am not giving you charity, I am making restitution," she
said. "I was living in a fool's paradise thinking that my son's problems
were just boys will be boys stuff. I ignored the danger signs, and you have
suffered for it. I will do everything I can to make up for my failings."

I had never met here before, but I sensed she was sincere.  Gus was
naturally suspicious, but he had the same feeling. She asked me to draw up
a document confirming her offers. Barton said that wasn't necessary.

"A legal document is always best in this sort of situation," she said. We
talked and she left. Barton was moved to a regular room a little later. A
nurse appeared to help with the move. Mrs. Miller had hired him to help
Barton for the next few weeks.

Barton fell asleep. Gus and I went home. Skeeter was waiting. Gus asked him
about the Millers. Skeeter knew everything. She was a wealthy heiress who
devoted here self to good works. She was mostly involved the art museum,
but was on many boards.  She was generous.  Skeeter said she had married
below here station. She was solid as a rock and her word was good.

Skeeter asked us up to his apartment for dinner. Things became festive
quickly. Gus relaxed, his concerns for Barton's future was solved. Skeeter
was a good cook and a great storyteller. He had a cheerful approach to life
that was infectious. He was also affectionate and not at all ashamed of his
sexual preferences. Gus was comfortable with that too.

Gus went to my apartment to call Barton's mother and wish her Merry
Christmas. I was alone with Skeeter.

"When Gus gets back I was hoping we could all let our hair down a bit, if
you get my drift," he said.

"It was fun this morning, but I may have had my limit of excitement for the
day," I said.

"You may have guessed Gus and I are into it big time," Skeeter said.  "You
are new to the scene?"  I nodded.

"I may be talking out of turn, but Gus likes you. He would love to get it
on with you."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked.  I had no idea. "He sure likes you."

"It's okay to like more than one guy," Skeeter said. "Gus is a top."

"I'm not sure about that," I said.

"I think he'd be disappointed if you didn't join us," Skeeter said. "I know
some men ease into sex. I jumped in the deep end at 14, and it's been good
ever since. Join us and go with the flow." He stroked my cock as he talked.
That seemed to convince me. We were going at it when Gus returned.

"Shit, I didn't hear the starting gun!" he said.

"It's not a sprint, it's a marathon," Skeeter said. "You can catch up."

A few minutes later, we were all in Skeeter's shower.  It was big and fancy
and there was room for three, if you didn't mind being close. I was ready
to launch myself at Gus' cock, but he was at mine first. I didn't expect
that. I didn't expect him to be into it. I soon realized he was into my
cock big time.



I bent over to suck Skeeter. His cock was long and thin.  He had a pump
knob. He was already oozing some.  His knob tasted good and soon I
swallowed the whole thing. When I pulled off, I suctioned a mouthful of
precum.  The rich ball cream seemed to go directly to my brain.  I couldn't
get enough of it. I didn't care about anything other than the two men I was
with.

As I sucked up Skeeter's scuz, Gus moaned.  I think my cock must have begun
to leak. He liked the taste.  He held me tight, but one finger strayed
toward my ass.  Much to my surprise, I shifted my legs to make my hole more
available. I didn't want to be fucked, but apparently, my body and ass had
a different opinion.

Looking back, I think both Skeeter and Gus had a much better understanding
of what I wanted than I did. I had a hard time relating the conservative
Republican congressman, with the sex-crazed man who wanted to have a truck
driver's cock pounding his ass. I had lost my common sense and my sense of
propriety. I was willing to anything Skeeter and Gus wanted.

We got out of the shower and went to Skeeter's bedroom. I had never been as
sexually excited as I was. I would do anything to please them. Skeeter had
told me Gus wanted to fuck me, but they didn't rush it.  Skeeter was a top
too.  I finally had Gus on the bed with is cock in my mouth. It had been
good sucking him in the morning.  It was much better now.  I was crazed.

Gus switched positions so he could suck me as I sucked him.  I thought this
would leave Skeeter out of the fun. Skeeter saw my ass was available so he
rimmed me. I hadn't guessed he would do that.  I also didn't realize it
would feel that good. In the back of my mind, I suspected Skeeter's tongue
was precursor of a harder, longer organ.

"Gus, I could open him up for you," Skeeter said.  "You're a bit big for a
first fuck. I understand if you want to be the first."

"You go ahead," Gus said. "I don't want to hurt him."  I was going to ask
if I had any say in this, but Gus oozed a huge glob of precum and I lost
any desire to do anything other than coax more from his balls.

Skeeter had some lube in the bedside table.  He coated his cock and nudged
it into my hole. "Now you just relax and let me in," Skeeter said.  He gave
a running commentary on his actions.  "I'm going to just ease it in. I'm
thin but nice and long.  It's the width that's hard to take. My knob may
pinch a little, but the shaft will be easy," he continued.  "I'll get the
lube in deep.  That will be good for Gus' monster.  Just relax and let me
in!"

Gus was still sucking my cock. "Skeeter, I think your cock head just
vanished," Gus said.

"Are you okay?" Skeeter asked me. He gave a hard thrust and his entire cock
was in me.  I was winded, but a little later, I began to feel good. Skeeter
must have sensed that, he began to pump his cock gently.

"You've have him going!" Gus said.

"Do you want to take a poke?" Skeeter asked.  "He's nice and open."

"I'll take my time," Gus said. "There is no rush."

"He's nice and tight, I can't hold off much longer," Skeeter said.



"A little extra lube won't be a problem," Gus said. They seemed very
casual, but I didn't care, with Gus' mouth on my cock and Skeeter's cock in
my ass, I was floating on a sexual cloud. Skeeter maintained a steady
rhythm, but he picked up his pace as nature took its course. He suddenly
stopped and was still. A second or two later I felt something tickling deep
in my ass. A warm feeling swept over me.

I would have thought having a man having an orgasm in my rectum would have
been disturbing. The warm feeling surprised me. I'm not sure my body had
ever pleased any one that much before.  I know I never seemed to have
pleased my wife.

Skeeter left his cock in me and let it deflate. He pulled out.  Gus rolled
me over onto my back and hoisted my legs on his shoulders.

"Are you ready?" he asked.  I may have nodded. Gus' knob was already at my
hole.  Skeeter's cream lubricated the opening. Gus pushed. It would be
wrong to say he fucked me. His cock occupied my ass.  I knew the entire
organ would eventually be in me, but he was in no rush. I also knew I had
misjudged his cock. It was bigger than I had thought. He had three or four
inches of it in my when I went to the moon. I now know that was when his
cock rammed my prostate. I didn't know anything could feel that good. I
couldn't think or reason; I could only feel.

I work up at six the next morning. Skeeter and Gus had taken turns fucking
me throughout the night. When I rolled over Gus cuddled close to me, he
held me tight and eased his cock into my ass one more time. It had been the
best night of my entire life.

"It's strange, but I feel empty without your cock in my ass," I said. "I
was incomplete before you filled me up."

Skeeter came over and dangled his cock in my face. I stuck out my tongue
and tasted his cock drool.

"Do you think a cock can fall in love with an asshole?" Gus asked.

"I hope so," I answered. I felt a tickling sensation as he ejaculated.  I
assumed that was his answer to my question.