Date: Mon, 21 Feb 2005 18:30:14 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Special Assistant 3

Special Assistant.

Part 3

By Bald Hairy Man    e-mail  bldhrymn@aol.com or bldhrymn@yahoo.com

This is an adult story intended for adults. It is a fantasy, so I again
remind you that I have done away with the requirements of safe sex, and
have included no gestures toward common sense either.  These are all new
stories.  Please e-mail me if you have any suggestions or comments.

I was uneasy about Randall's situation, but I was a really small fry in the
White House organization, so I figured the higher ups knew better.  Randall
became a fixture around the White House and I stopped noticing he was
there, unless he brought in of his younger "interns" with him.  He seemed
to like Marine type men.  I don't know if they were Marines, or if they
just looked the part.

I don't look the part.  I'm average looking, thin and hairy.  I was clean
shaven, but I needed to shave again every day by 4:30- 5:00.  In some ways
I didn't fit in that well with the rest of the younger men at the White
House.  Most were spick and span clean, well coiffed and bow-tied.  I
combed my hair, but never used hair spray.

Most of the others were also vocally Christian.  I was Episcopalian.  They
seemed to see that as problem, but couldn't say it to my face.  I think
there were Episcopalians in the President's family tree and you had to be
careful about that. One characteristic I did share with the others was my
father.  He was very wealthy and a good donor to the President.  Money
counted.

After a while I discovered I was out of place here.  My father was an old
time Republican.  He was conservative and wealthy, but, while you couldn't
say he was a libertarian, he thought lots of things were "none of your
business."  He didn't like government messing around in his business, but
didn't like government in the bedroom either.  Dad was deeply distrustful
of people who made a big show of religion.  "They're either trying to prove
something, or hide something," he said.

My Grandfather had been dirt poor and got his education by way of the GI
Bill after World War II.  He had done well in business and my father had
done even better, but Dad never forgot our roots. Dad was a great believer
in public education and deeply suspicious of religious and private schools.
My Mom wasn't into politics at all.  She had her children and volunteer
work.  That was enough for her.  I was the youngest of four children, two
boys and two girls.  All the others were married and had children, so Mom
was happy.

With six grand children, there was no pressure on me to get married and
reproduce.  I almost never dated, but no one ever commented on that, or was
concerned.  One day I overheard my mom telling a friend, "Jason may just be
a bachelor."  She knew and wasn't worried.

While I didn't have much of a love life, my sex life was great.  Tommy and
Marty came by to see me from time to time.  Marty told me he had some other
friends who might like to meet me.  He wanted to know if I were interested.
I said yes, if he could vouch for them.

Marty laughed.  "Jason, let me warn you in advance, they all aren't as
pretty as me!" he said.  "Most are older men and they'd love to have a
younger man like you."  A few days later I got a call at home from a man
named Rolf.  He was a political consultant and a friend of Marty's.  He
asked me to come over to his place after work some day.  He lived on the
edge of Georgetown and turned out to be an attractive guy.

He was tall and thin, dapper in dress with a distinguished grey beard.  His
apartment was on the upper floor of a handsome townhouse.  It was a
beautiful apartment filled with antiques, but it was dark.  Rolf was
cordial and pleasant, but he moved a bit oddly with great deliberation.  I
realized he was either blind, or close to being blind.  Rolf talked about
my job; it seemed he knew everybody in town.  After some small talk, we
went to his bedroom.

We stripped and I approached him.  He put his hand out and touched me, then
he felt for my cock.  I get hard really easily.  "You're already, aren't
you?" he said.

"I'm sorry," I replied.

Rolf smiled.  "That wasn't a complaint. I take a while to get it up," he
said.  With that comment, he leaned over and began to suck my cock.  His
bushy beard and mustache felt good on my cock and balls, like being sucked
by Santa.  As he sucked me, his hands felt my chest.  He must have liked
fur.  Even in the dimly illuminated room, I could see he was a good shape
for an older man.  He had a furry chest and back.

I got him to get on the bed, so I could suck him.  His cock was still only
semi hard.  Uncut, the skin still covered most of his mushroom.  I like
that a lot.  Once I started sucking his cock got hard and long.

It was big, but it seemed to fit my throat perfectly.  I could easily deep
throat him and that turned me on.  I could take it all and burry my nose in
his hairy balls.  The musky smell turned me on even more.  Rolf pulled
away, "I need a cool down period," he said.  "I don't want to pop too
soon."

He asked me about my life and I told him.  My life is about as boring as a
25-year-old Republican guy can be, but Rolf had an ability to sound
interested.  I asked him about his background.

"I've been a politico for years, usually an advisor for campaigns.  My real
job was Senator Roland Murphy's lover.  Rolly was a good man with the sex
drive of a teenager until the day he died.  I kept him in line," Rolf said.

Senator Murphy had been a great leader in the Senate.  "I thought he had a
happy marriage?" I remarked.

"He did.  Just not to his wife," Rolf explained.  "They respected each
other and like each other, but once she had kids she didn't have much use
for Rollo sexually.  That could have been a disaster for him, if I hadn't
been available."

"I had no idea he was gay," I said.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure he was." Rollo replied.  "He didn't
like men or boys in general.  He liked me.  We were soul mates.  You can be
straight as an arrow and be attracted to one person of the same sex.  God
has a sense of humor sometimes. "

"Sexual soul mates?"

Rolf laughed.  "Our personalities were a perfect fit and his ass was made
for my cock," Rolf said.  "I was the first and only man to fuck him, but my
cock was all he needed."

"What did his wife think of it?  Did she know?"

"When she got sick, Rolly took care of her.  She wouldn't let him miss any
Senate business for her, so I pinched hit for him when he was busy," Rolf
said.  "Right before she died, she thanked me for helping her.  Then she
told me to take care of Rolly.  I think she knew."  He paused for a minute.
"He died a few years later.  A heart attack on the floor of the Senate.  At
least he died with his boots on."

"That was about six years ago?"

"Yes, I was sixty-three at the time and my eyesight was beginning to go."

"You're seventy?" I said a bit shocked.  "You don't look it!"

"Thank you.  I have to take your word, I can't judge the way I look," he
said.  "Did Marty tell you I am a top?"

"No, but that's fine with me," I said.  "Is Marty a friend of yours?"

"A friend, but not a sex friend," Rolf said.  "We're both tops.  I can't
get out much, so if he finds someone I would like he sends him my way.
Marty and I share some of the same tastes."

I was playing with his cock.  I liked the hard shaft inside the soft
foreskin.  Rolf was oozing precum by now.  "Is it frightening to meet new
men and not see them?" I asked.

"Not exactly frightening, but it does take some getting use to," Rolf said,
smiling.  "Marty's a good judge of character.  It helps that he would kill
anyone who hurt me.  Marty's not a forgiving man."

I laughed.  Rolf looked worried for a minute, then resumed his normal
appearance.  I realized he hadn't been joking about Marty killing someone.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Rolf asked.

"Shoot."

He dropped his voice to almost a whisper.  "We've just met and I want to
shove my cock up your ass.  Does it bother you?"

"I don't know, I've never thought of it like that," I said. "I guess I
don't mind.  When I'm having sex or even the prospect of sex I get so
excited, I don't seem to think much until afterward."

"You let your cock do the thinking?"

"That's one way to put it," I said. Rolf was really hard now and I
lubricated his cock. I gently pushed him back on the bed and straddled him,
easing his cock into my hole. I sat on it. My ass peeled back the skin and
his knob popped into me.  It was bigger than I had thought. It hurt a
little but felt fine once it was in the dark side of my ass.

As it slid deeper, I was surprised how good it felt.  The knob snow plowed
deep and my ass closed hin on his thinner shaft. His tender but bloated
glands bonded to my ass lining. It felt good form the start, but got better
with every movement.

Rolf got me on my back and started fucking me slowly.  Rolf was a sex
machine. He fucked me non stop for a good hour. You would think a guy would
get times, but my ass had a very high tolerance for pleasure. He finally
shot off.  I didn't know old men had so much cum.

The first few ejaculations were so strong, I could feel the cum ticking my
ass.  Rolf continued to shoot for a minute or two before he was spent.  My
ass was almost raw, and the cock cream felt like a salve. He fell asleep,
leaving his cock in.  It was good.

The phone rang. Rolf woke and answered it, finally pulling out of me. "Oh,
he's here now," he said. "You have good taste Marty. It's been good." He
listened for a little then said.  "Frankly, I'd give it a 9.5 or maybe even
a ten."  If he could see, I think he might have winked at me.  "Marty's a
block away, Jason.  Do you think you could help him out?"

"I sure can!" I said.  Why I said that, I didn't know, but Marty arrived at
the apartment.  He and Rolf tag teamed me for another hour.  My tolerance
for sex was much greater than I thought.  Then two men have very different
cocks and fucking techniques. When I got close, Marty would pull out and
Rolf would take his place.  I stayed on the edge of an orgasm for most of
the time.

All of us enjoyed it. They were pleasant. Maybe it was a gang bang, but
they were considerate. Marty said he wanted to make sure I would last. It
was pleasurable, but friendly.  I hadn't thought of sex as a friendly
activity before. We were just enjoying each other's bodies. The two older
men knew a lot more about my body than I did, but I learned fast. I shot
off a few times.

We talked during a lull and Randall's name came up.  Marty asked how
Randall was doing.  Rolf didn't know him, so we clued him in. Rolf did know
Ronnie Billings.  He was unhappy.  "What in hell are they thinking?" he
exclaimed.

"There are problems?" Marty asked. "I just thought he was an asshole."

"Do you remember Lawrence Wilson?" Rolf asked. Marty nodded. "He knew
Ronnie.  Discovered he was a congenital liar, with delusions of grandeur.
Big time problems.  How in hell did he get into The White House."

"He made a pass at me at a reception," I said. "I assume I wasn't the only
one."

"That what happened to Lawrence, he was at a reception and this good
looking guy made contact. They went off to a hotel room," Rolf said. "They
met a few more times. Ronnie wanted to know who Larry knew in high
places. He also began to talk oddly.  Ronnie seemed to think he was the
great White and Christian hope for saving the Republic.  The sex was good
so Larry let it go."

"Eventually Ronnie wanted to meet some of the important men Larry knew,"
Rolf continued.  "Naturally, Larry didn't want to do that.  Ronnie got
violent.  Larry was a sweet man, but no tower of strength, so he arranged
an introduction."

"To whom?" Marty asked.

"To Steve Martineau," Rolf answered.  I was stunned.  Steve was the Darth
Vader of the White House.  The enforcer.  The evil genius.

"It appears they hit it off," Marty said.

"That's the way it sounds to me." Rolf said.

"He's a hooker.  How in hell could he think he could get away with that?"
Marty asked.  "I bought him for "$600.00 a night."

"Mr. Martineau gets away with everything," Rolf said.  "Haven't you
noticed?"

"I noticed all right," Marty replied, "Ronnie's into water sports!  I can
see having a hobby, but bringing him into the White House is too much.
Monica was just a cheep bitch.  She did it for fun, not for cash."

"The word is Steve prefers his sex for cash." Rolf said.  "He likes the
employer- employee relationship."

"Like his relationship with the President?" Marty asked.

"I'm not sure about that.  I've always thought Steve loved the President.
I think it's platonic, but love none the less.  I think destroying anyone
who gets in the President's way is an alternative to orgasms for him.  He's
ruthless for the man he loves."

"What role does Ronnie play?" I asked.  "I don't think platonic is in his
vocabulary."

"Ronnie likes to dominate and humiliate according to Lawrence," Rolf said.
"Men who think their desires are evil like that.  They can have sex and be
punished for sex at the same time."

"That scares me," I said.