Date: Thu, 10 Jun 2010 23:37:08 -0700 (PDT)
From: Nooger Ballsfad <noogerballsfad@yahoo.com>
Subject: Hairy Maintenance Man - 3

Disclaimer: This story contains graphic details of a sexual encounter
between two adult, consenting mails. If you disapprove of such encounters
or are legally barred from reading such material, please leave this page
now.

Fans and supporters: Like part 2, part 3 will give some extra build up
before the big show in part 4.  I hope you enjoy, and, as ever, feedback
and suggestions are greatly appreciated. I've also been told that some men
send authors pictures of the cumshots that their stories produce. I won't
turn those down either ;)

Noogerballsfad@yahoo.com   Hope to hear from you soon!


	"It's sinful!"
	"It's also none of your business."
	"Have you ever thought that maybe I don't want to see a couple guys
walking around making out with each other every damn minute of the day?"
	"Have YOU ever considered that a law legalizing gay marriage isn't
the same thing as a license to fornicate in the streets? This slippery
slope shit is really getting old, Monica."
	It was Thursday afternoon and I was in my American History/Current
Events course duking it out yet again with Monica, a classmate who seemed
to think that it was her personal duty to piss me off on every issue known
to mankind. The subject of lecture had been the Civil Rights Movement, and
we adapted the topic to the closest thing to a modern day counterpart: the
fight for gay rights. Though I had never made it a point to flaunt my
sexuality to my classmates, I was outspoken about the right to gay
marriage, something Monica took issue with. Typically, the instructor had
to step in after we got going and the discussion became heated.
	"Careful, now," said Professor Barrett, with a faint smirk on his
face. I could tell that Dr.  Barrett enjoyed the discourse that occurred so
naturally when a bunch of strong minded college students got together, but
it didn't stop him from shutting it down when it got too nasty. Usually,
though, he just finished lecture, connected it with a current event, and
sat back as the rest of us took it from there.
	"I'm sorry, I just can't understand why people don't get that
homosexuality is unnatural!"  shrieked Monica. The class, populated by
primarily liberal students, collectively rolled its eyes. We were used to
this, but it didn't stop it from being frustrating. Not being able to take
anymore, I responded.
	"So are your tits, but I'm not trying to pass a constitutional ban
on them....yet."
	The atmosphere of the room thickened quite a bit. The comment was
no doubt rude, but Monica had touched a nerve. We all looked at
Dr. Barrett, who had an expression on his face like surprise mingled with
irritation.  Before Monica could open her mouth to respond, Dr. Barrett cut
her off.
	"I think that's where we'll leave it today. Everybody out."
	The class packed up their things and walked out. Monica shot me a
scathing glare before she departed. When the class was empty but for me and
Dr. Barrett, he rounded on me.
	"You need to keep your temper in check or comments like that are
going to start affecting your grade," he said as he lightly but firmly
whapped me in the head, "I don't need students dropping my classes because
they think I foster that kind of environment."
	I instantly felt ashamed. Dr. Barrett had been a magnificent
professor so far, and the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint him.
	"Sorry," I said, "I'll try to keep my temper in check. It just
really bothers me to see people in the 21st century who are still that
narrow-minded."
	"No kidding," he replied, "Come to my office. We haven't had a chat
in a while, and you seem to be on edge a little bit lately." He finished
packing up his briefcase and walked towards the door, gesturing for me to
follow.
	I suppose I should give more insight into my relationship with
Dr. Barrett. I had taken his first level American History class in the
spring of my freshman year. I instantly loved the class. Not only is he
particularly charismatic, but he is also very well spoken and an expert in
his field. I thoroughly enjoyed his lectures for the insight he provided
and the impassioned way in which he delivered them. It didn't hurt that he
was easy on the eyes as well. Dr. Barrett was in his mid-50's.  He had
short, wavy salt and pepper hair and a moustache that matched. His eyes
were a deep brown color and his gaze was penetrating. Having been an
industrial worker for the first 15 years of his post high school life
before entering academia, he had a powerful build, though he had gone
slightly to seed. If the subject matter for his class wasn't interesting
enough, I simply enjoyed looking at the man. The next semester, I opted to
take another one of his history courses, and after that, another. Now in my
fourth (and last) class taught by Dr. Barrett, he knew my face well, and we
had regular chats in his office about all kinds of things.  I followed him
across the campus to the history department's building and into his
office. He sat down on his desk and kicked his feet up. One of my favorite
things about him was his casual demeanor, and I always felt at ease around
him.
	"So what's up?" he asked, "You've been a bit more aggressive
lately, and that's saying something."
	Truth be told, I was very much aware of my newfound
aggression. Meeting Jim and embarking on the kind of sexual escapades that
would bring the hottest porn to shame had significantly changed my
demeanor. My thirst for those encounters knew no bounds, and the
assertiveness had manifested in everyday interactions. But how do you tell
that to your history professor?
	"Stress," I said. He glanced at me, amused. He had no doubt heard
the excuse a million times before. I felt as if I were insulting his
intelligence. He stood up all of a sudden and crossed the room.
	"What's up?" I asked, somewhat perturbed by this strange
behavior. Dr. Barrett looked outside into the hallway to see if anyone was
around. The class ended at about 6PM, during which time the history
department had mostly cleared out of full time faculty and most
professors. We were pretty alone. He closed the door and locked it.
	"Nothing," he said, a small grin on his face. He crossed back
across the room and sat back down, his deep brown eyes gazing deep into
mine, "I just have something I wanted to ask you about."
	"Go ahead," I said, a little bit apprehensive, since it was
becoming abundantly clear that this wasn't your typical "What are you
planning on doing after college?" conversation.
	"Last week, I was on the third floor of the library browsing the
stacks for an old manuscript. I rounded a corner to see one of the
maintenance workers behaving rather strangely."  My heart sank. I knew
where he was going with this. "He was facing a shelf, through which a hand
was reached, massaging his jeans. He was pretty distracted and didn't
notice me. I glanced around to see who the hand was attached to, and,
well..."
	I was perfectly aware that, since Jim and I made it a point to have
very public gropings, we were bound to be caught sometime. I figured that
this, higher up floor of the library was a safe place to have a little
fun. I guess I was wrong.
	"It comes as no surprise to me that you're so up in arms about the
whole gay marriage issue," Dr. Barrett said, finally taking his eyes off me
for a moment and glancing around the room, "I grew up in the 70's and am
all for sexual freedom, but you might want to be a bit more careful about
things like that."
	I looked down, immensely embarrassed. My favorite professor had
caught me fondling a man in the middle of an academic building. I took a
few minutes to reflect on my stupidity to distract myself from the shame. I
wanted nothing more than to evaporate on the spot.
	"You'd think you two would keep it in the bedroom, that is, if
you've ever actually gone any father than that. Or was this a first
encounter?" I froze. This was an odd question to be asked. I glanced up at
Dr. Barrett, who was now eying me curiously.
	"Wha...?"
	"Oh, don't be embarrassed," he said, his expression lightening
somewhat, "How could you be? He's definitely a looker." I couldn't believe
my ears.
	"Are you...?" Evidently, complete sentences weren't my thing.
	Rather than respond to my question, Dr. Barrett just eyed me and
smiled. "How'd you meet him?" he asked.
	"Uhm, well.." I mumbled, trying to get my thoughts in order. This
was absolutely insane, "He works for the school."
	"Yes, I surmised as much," said Dr. Barrett, now officially teasing
me, "but how did you come across him?"
	"We met.. a few weeks ago at the library," I explained. I couldn't
get over how utterly insane this was, and yet as I described our first
encounter, Dr. Barrett continued to stare at me hungrily.
	"You two ever fuck?"
	"Uhm... uh..." I stuttered, caught completely off guard, "No, not
yet. I'm not really ready for that kind of thing yet."
	"That's a shame," said Dr. Barrett, glancing down disappointedly. I
used his temporary pause as my opportunity.
	"Sir, this is pretty strange," I started, lamely, "Are you sure
this is something we should be discussing?" He looked up at me, his face
calculating.
	"Don't think I don't know how you feel about me," he said, "You've
taken all my classes, and I've seen you staring attentively at me during
lectures, and it's obvious that it's not just because I'm talking about
something you find historically interesting. Am I right?"
	"Uhm..."
	"I'm sure this is sufficiently freaking you out, but I'm not going
to fail you because you're attracted to me," he said, now amused, "I just
thought I'd break the ice here. Seems like a conversation worth having." As
he said this, his eyes moved up and down my body. I was wearing a skin
tight light blue button-down today that I'm sure was giving him a pretty
good idea of the outline of my chest and arm definition. The top two
buttons were left undone to show off the chest hair I prided myself so much
on, and I noticed him survey that particular area more than once.  Though
the physical attraction was definitely mutual, the shock was preventing me
from articulating my feelings. Seeing me continue to stare blankly at him,
Dr. Barrett sighed and took his feet off the desk. He leaned forward across
the desk, his eyes now locked back onto mine.
	"Listen, when I was your age, I was exploring this same kind of
stuff too, and it made life a lot easier to have another guy around,
especially one with experience, to talk to about it. Shooting the shit and
sharing stories really helps with the 'stress.' If you're too horrified to
even speak, then I'm sorry I brought it up. I thought it would do you some
good to have someone else you can talk to about it, but I guess I was
mistaken." He stood up and walked back towards the door to unlock it, a
disappointed look on his face. As he did, I knew that this was my last
opportunity to untie my tongue. Still feeling as if this might not be
possible, I compromised by grabbing his meaty forearm as he passed. I
looked up at him.
	"He's got a 10 inch cock, a six pack that would make 'The
Situation' cry, and no gag reflex."
	Dr. Barrett smiled at me, and I noticed a twitch in the crotch area
of his pants, which was a few inches away from my face. He sat back down at
his desk and kicked his legs up again.
	"Tell me everything," he said, a mischievous smile on his face. I
began to tell him the stories of our flings, from the first time Jim had
ever come to my apartment to my attempts to begin preparing myself for the
fucking of a lifetime. Since we had discussed the subject of the legendary
"Hank," I had been working on preparing my tight asshole for him, inserting
one finger at a time until I was big wide enough to take a dildo. Not
wanting to stretch myself out too much and ruin the fun, I had stopped
after the dildo, though I knew that it could never prepare even for Jim,
let alone Hank. As I talked, Dr. Barrett gazed longingly at me. His hands
began moving around his body. His left hand moved underneath his shirt
through the front buttons while his right massaged the growing bulge in his
pants. He closed his eyes and moaned softly as I described our sessions in
vivid detail.  When I was done, he opened his eyes and looked at me yet
again.
	"Sounds spectacular," he said softly, "At the risk of being too
forward- "
	"Too late," I said, with a smirk. He chuckled.
	"Fine then, at the risk of being even more intrusive than I already
have been, do either of you have a daddy fetish?"
	Not for the first time that day, my jaw dropped. Talking about this
kind of shit with Dr.  Barrett was intense enough. Including him in on it?
I couldn't even comprehend, though I certainly wasn't opposed to it. I
definitely had a thing for older guys, though it's something I'd have to
ask Jim about. Before I could gather myself enough mentally to even string
together words for an explanation, Dr. Barrett stood up yet again. This
time, he stayed behind the desk. He raised his hands to the top of his
shirt and began unbuttoning it. I gawked without shame as he peeled the
shirt apart and exposed his upper body. Though he had a small gut, it was
by no means off-putting.  He had defined pecs and his entire upper body was
covered in hair. My pants began to feel tighter as I imagined what it must
feel like to run my hand through his pelt. Before I could even get through
the fantasy, he began to unfasten his belt buckle. He unzipped his jeans
and dropped his pants. Barely concealed behind a jockstrap was the outline
of Dr. Barrett's cock. Semi-hard, it appeared to be about 6.5-7 inches. He
was obviously well-endowed.
	"Like what you see?" he said in a soft, husky voice. He thumbed the
waistband of the jockstrap. I wanted to reach forward and pull it down, but
a sudden knock on the door disrupted us.  Three short knocks was all it
took to make Dr. Barrett freeze. His face went pale. Luckily, he had locked
the door. Neither of us dared breathe until the intruder slipped a note
underneath the door and walked away. Dr. Barrett waited until the footsteps
died away completely and dressed himself back up.
	"I'm a filthy hypocrite," he said, slightly calmer, now that the
danger had passed, "I bring you in here to preach about being careful of
public encounters and almost get caught myself." He picked up the note,
read it, and set it on the desk. "Go figure. Completely unimportant." He
sat back down at his desk and glanced over at me. "So what do you think?"
	I didn't need elaboration. I knew that he wanted me to discuss
including him on some of my romps with Jim, and I was all for it. His hairy
sexy body was intoxicating, though the mood had definitely been killed by
the interruption. "Let me talk to Jim about it. You've got my vote."
	Dr. Barrett smiled at me, "Good boy. It's about time I showed you
damn kids how to really please a man. Now, get out of here before we get
carried away again and I start sucking your dick right in the middle of the
reception area." My cock gave a more violent twitch. "Let me know what the
verdict is."
	Though I couldn't believe my ears, I had to give Dr. Barrett a lot
of credit for his nerve, I thought as I made my way out of the building. I
would have never been able to summon up the courage to approach anyone like
that. I had to admit, the man knew what he wanted, and I would be more than
willing to give it to him, with or without Jim.
	Speaking of Jim, I decided to give him a call to gauge his reaction
on the issue. I whipped out my cell phone and hit the "69" speed dial (the
most remarkable coincidence of my life). After a few rings, Jim's voice
answered, husky and excited.
	"Hey there, sexy."
	"Hey, I got a proposition for ya," I said, "Mind if I come over?"
	"Not at all. In fact, this is the perfect timing," he said, and I
distinctly heard a low chuckle in the background.
	"Who's that?" I asked, "What's going on?"
	"You'll see," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice as
he said it, "Come on over.  You won't be disappointed."
	My curiosity peaked, and figuring that this day couldn't get any
stranger, I decided to hop on the bus that would shorten the trip down to
Jim's place. I arrived at his apartment and knocked. I heard momentary
scuffling as Jim got up out of whatever position he was in to answer the
door, which opened to reveal him in all his glory. He was wearing is
ever-present beautiful smile, and his hair was slightly messy, indicative
of some kind of fooling around. He was wearing his tightest jeans, into
which a white beater was tucked. The beater barely concealed his beautiful
body, and, as I always did and just to make sure he was real, I placed my
hand on his chest and ran it down to his crotch. Some men shake hands, I
lightly fondle for a greeting. Jim threw his arms around me and pulled me
into a tight squeeze. I inhaled his musky scent, and as he broke away, I
followed him, practically hypnotized, into the next room.
	"There's someone here I'd like you to meet," he said, grinning as
he moved into the living room, "This is Hank."
	Jim gestured to a man standing in the middle of the room. At that
moment, I could see why he rendered Jim speechless. No shorter than 6'5"
tall, Hank was powerfully built. His black shirt was stretched over his
extremely muscled upper body, and his meaty, hairy forearms indicated that
he was probably as hairy as any of the rest of us were. His hair was long
and very dark brown. He had it pulled back into a ponytail, which gave
greater view of his green eyes and handsome face.  He had a cut jaw and
chin, but his smile was soft and welcoming. He was wearing dark blue jeans,
though the bulge in them indicated that either he was just playing around
with Jim and slightly aroused or hung like a horse. Or both. I wasn't
complaining. I reached out my hand to shake his.  He reached for my pants.
	"What, you grope Jim but not me?" he said, smiling as his hand
massaged the bulge in my jeans, "Let's have some fucking fun!"
	I looked at Hank, then to Jim whose smile was broader and more
excited than ever, and then back to Hank. I reached my hands out and
started massaging them both. This was going to be a romp to remember.

To be continued...

Hope I'm not being too much of a tease ;)