Date: Sat, 15 Feb 2014 04:32:28 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Unwelcome Christmas Guest 7

The Unwelcome Christmas Guest 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 or bldhrymn@aol.com

If you enjoy these stories. Please consider giving a donation to Nifty!

Life takes some strange turns and Roger's death was one of those odd,
unexpected windfalls. Max was an intelligent and sensible man, but he had
no interest in real estate at all. Roger had a lot of stocks, bonds and
actual cash in addition to the property. Max turned over dealing with the
property to me. I was to both manage and dispose of it.

With the property, I seemed to get Tim, McManus and his crew.  Luckily,
Roger's secretary, Deb Ebert, had been handling the rentals for Roger's
property for years on the side. I gave her a big raise and we did that
through the office.

As is the case with all older buildings, there was something always
breaking or falling apart in Roger's properties, so I kept McManus
busy. Tim stayed at Roger's house as a guard and helped McManus with odd
jobs. After two weeks, I realized Tim needed more help. Roger had cooked
for him and provided a daily schedule. Tim did not self-start. He didn't
seem to understand grocery stores and the relationship between money and
purchasing.

During the day, McManus took care of Tim's lunch, but I discovered it was
easier to bring him to my house for dinner than to leave him on his
own. After a month of that, Max suggested that I move into Roger's
house. He preferred to have it fully occupied.  That worked out well.

Roger had a lot of stuff in the house that needed to be sorted and either
donated to charity or sold. I could do this at my leisure. I rented out my
house to a new realtor at me office.

I was incredibly busy, but things went well. There was another aspect that
went well. My sex life took a dramatic turn for the better. The odd part
this improvement was my new sexual playmates; none of them was the sort I
associated with before.

All the pretty young things and sleek bar flies were gone and replaced by
construction workers and old geezers. This was a shock to me. I was
slumming, or at least that was the way several of my former friends saw
it. That bothered me for a while.

I noticed that some of my old friends became much more attentive and one of
my former lovers wanted to get together again. He suddenly didn't seem to
mind me getting older. I was older, but I was smarter too. I suspected that
this new affection related to my greatly enhanced income. I had replaced
Roger and had all of his clients in addition to my own.

I also discovered that I liked sex. When I was looking for true love, sex
was fraught with anxiety. I was afraid I would do something wrong and
offend my partner. I was now with men who saw sex as a recreational
activity. I had thought of no-strings-attached sex as superficial and
meaningless. If I was looking for a wife to have babies with, that might be
the case.

If sex is a recreational activity you share with your friends, fun and
physical pleasure is enough. When I relaxed, the sex was better, a lot
better. Sex with pals was low stress compared to sex with lovers. My former
friends were social butterflies who were into parties, spa treatments and
resorts. While my new friends ranged for college professors to construction
workers, they were easy to talk to and had something to say.

I was afraid Tim would be a problem. Roger and he had a regular pattern of
sex. I didn't want to do that, but when I tried to cut back on the sex, Tim
thought I was mad at him. Sex was his favorite entertainment. Luckily,
McManus and his men were available and helpful.  They liked Tim and they
liked sex, but they had no desire to take advantage of him.  Tim liked them
personally and sexually. Butch and Harry were fishermen, and they took Tim
with them. That was a complete success. Roger had kept Tim at home most of
the time. Tim loved the river and camping.

We all helped to expand Tim's sexual repertoire. Roger had fucked him every
morning and sucked him dry every night. I had taught him how to fuck, and
McManus and his boys taught him how to suck.

Tim never made the first move.  Roger realized that while Tim liked sex, he
had no way to know if a man wanted to play. Roger was afraid Tim might make
unwanted advances. Roger wanted Tim for himself and did not want to share.

Gus dropped by regularly and was good with Tim. He liked to hike and took
Tim to the woods.  Gus was closer to Roger's age and seemed to be a father
figure.

My experiences with other well-hung men had all been good, but Gus was
exceptional. At first, I thought his cock and its shape, size and his
technique was what set it apart. I eventually realized the man attached to
the cock was exceptional too. Gus was easy to like. He was friendly,
helpful, modest and undemanding.

When you combined that with being sexually generous and imaginative, it was
impressive combination. Tim enjoyed him too. Gus's cock didn't fit in Tim's
ass.  They just were not compatible. Gus noted Tim shot huge loads; you had
to swallow twice to get it all. Gus visited after Tim and fucked me and
discovered Tim's cream was the perfect lubricant.

Gus had never used sperm as a lubricant before and it was a total
success. I hadn't guessed that Gus could get more excited than he was, but
Tim's cum did it for him. The next time we got together Gus had Tim fuck me
and then took sloppy seconds. I had been both opened up and lubricated.  It
was wonderful.  Tim enjoyed watching Gus's tool penetrating my ass and my
anus reacting. He later told me it was better than cartoons. Sometimes Tim
was so excited he went in for a sloppy third. Other times he would sit on
my cock as Gus fucked me.

McManus and his crew brought Tim home from work, but they also did work on
the house. Roger had renovated his house years earlier. These renovations
were thirty years old and needed to be up dated.

The house was valuable as it was, but I felt Roger's house should look
great when it went up for sale. He would have been shocked to think that
some would regard his house as run down. Working it into McManus' schedule
was hard. He was busy with Roger's other projects.

The home projects moved along slowly until Buster and Harry's apartment
house burned and they lost everything. They did not have renter's
insurance. The apartment house had some insurance, but they would get
almost nothing for their possessions. I let them live on the third floor of
Roger's house rent-free. That solved problems for them and gave me two
live-in handy men.

I assumed it would be for a week or a month at the most. Much to my
surprise, Buster and Harry were easy to live with. I knew that McManus was
noted for running a clean site. Some construction crews are sloppy. McManus
cleaned up at the end of every day leaving his clients happy.  Buster and
Harry did the cleaning and so there was no mess in my house at all. In the
summer, they left for work before dawn so they could get work done before
the late afternoon heat.  I hardly knew they were in the house.

In the winter, they were home more, but they were never a problem. They
liked Tim and took care of him if I had a night meeting. One night I came
home from a meeting with Gus and found them having a threesome with Tim. I
was going to leave them alone, but Gus was excited and we stripped and
joined them. That turned out to be a good experience.

For some reason, any tendency to be shy was absent from me that
night. Neither Gus nor Tim were shy anyway. Tim fucked me, shot off and
turned me over to Gus. McManus, Butch and Harry had never seen Gus in
action and they loved the show. They loved watching Gus' oversized cock
stretch my anus wide and watching my hole quivered in anticipation of the
next penetration.

They didn't seem to see me as cock hungry slut; they saw me as an athlete
with special skills. They regarded it as a skill, such as sword
swallowing. Unexpectedly, each penetration was better than the one the
preceded it. Everyone took a turn, except for Gus who entered me between
each of the men.

I wasn't the only bottom. Butch had slipped into Tim's ass when Tim bent
over to watch me closer. When McManus took his turn in me, Harry gave his
prostate a nice massage. After a while, my ass was dripping semen.  That
suited Gus perfectly. I was fully open, relaxed and lubricated. His cock
became a pure love stick. Every movement was pure pleasure. There was no
tenseness or unease. I had to wash the sheets after, but Butch and Harry
took care of that.

I thought of the men not as sex crazed fuckers, but as friendly helpers who
contributed their own bodily fluids to make it easier for me. I had never
been as relaxed as each cock slid into my ass. I felt a little like a
friendly dog surrounded by people willing to pet me.

I noticed that when Gus returned to my ass the pleasure intensified after
each of the other men fucked me. I wanted him to push the semen deeper into
me. He seemed to know this. Like all good things, the session came to an
end. Gus and McManus went home and I fell asleep.

I thought I might feel odd the next day; I had been the sexual plaything
for five men. I felt good, and my relationships with the other men remained
unchanged.

That day I had a major offer for forty of Roger's properties. A private
foundation promoting low-income housing wanted a bundle of smaller houses.

I had to contact Max about this offer. These were difficult houses to sell
and weren't going to be that profitable.  The foundation offered a low
price, but I thought it would be good to get rid of them. Max wasn't
interested in real estate so he was willing. His accountant was concerned
about taxes on the profit. He thought a donation to the foundation might be
better. Max was willing to do that too, but I had to work out the details
with the foundation.

I had to meet with the executive director of the Foundation for Housing,
Wilson Brown. I didn't know Wilson at all.  He was a former NFL tackle and
the blackest man I had ever met. As it turns out, I was just about the only
person in the city who didn't know him. He had a brilliant career that
ended with a broken leg after three seasons. At six feet four and three
hundred pounds, he commanded attention.

The Foundation for Housing had been a lackluster group of well-meaning
people.  They were well meaning but ineffectual until Wilson took over.
Wilson took control and began to get things done.  The proposed project
with Roger's houses was the first large project.

Wilson was intimidating when you met him. He looked like a caveman in an
expensive suit. It took ten minutes to get over the awe and realize he was
a smart man. We had what is usually called a productive
meeting. Afterwards, I called several of my banker friends and asked about
the group.  They were generally favorable. I wrote up a report for Max.

I saw Wilson jogging by my house the next Saturday. I was with Tim planting
the house's flower boxes. Roger thought flowers could greatly improve the
sales prospect of a house and his house was a showplace. I didn't want to
offend his ghost.

I asked Wilson in to see the house. He was impressed by the house and he
impressed me with his knowledge. McManus came by to pick up Buster and
Harry. He knew of Wilson and they had a football conversation followed by
builder talk.  McManus knew every builder in the city and their strengths
and weaknesses.

McManus knew who was good, who was bad and who needed help. Some were good
contractors but poor businesspersons. I could see Wilson was soaking up all
that information. After a half hour conversation, everyone went on his way
and I finished planting the flowers.

The Foundation wanted forty houses scattered across the city. I talked with
Max and said I thought it would be better if they were concentrated in a
single neighborhood where the impact would be better. He agreed and I
developed a counter proposal. We agreed to give them title to the houses
with the sale price the price Roger paid. This was well below the market
value. Max agreed to take payment after the houses were sold. This greatly
reduced the cost of the project to the Foundation. The foundation decided
to put the profits from the deal into a revolving fund for renovations
named for Roger.

My firm handled the real estate part of the project. We had a good
marketing section and they did a great job. Wilson now dropped by my house
once or twice a week on his morning jog. He mentioned a common friend on
one of these visits.  The common friend was one of my ex-lovers, Kurt.
Kurt was handsome and I knew he was not into platonic relationships.

"How was he?  I haven't seen him in years," I asked.

"He was all right," Wilson replied. "Does he always have the air of a man
talking to his inferiors?"

I smiled. "He does seem to think that god should forget Jesus and adopt him
as his son," I said. "He was so handsome, I was willing to overlook that,
but it did get tired after a while. He is a Johnnie-one note."

"I wasn't sure if it was me or him," Wilson remarked.

"He looks good, but he doesn't do much," I said. "The only time he meets
his equal is when he looks in a mirror.

Wilson smiled. "He doesn't get involved. I had the feeling he was afraid he
might mess up his hair or something. I like things hot, sweaty and sticky."

I laughed. "You can do a lot better than Kurt," I said. "Shit, I can do
better. I don't mind the hot and sweaty stuff, but I love the sticky part."
He looked at my crotch. There was a bulge. He reached over and fondled
me. We went to my bedroom.

Wilson was a big man, but I knew big men are not always big everywhere.  I
didn't have a clue as to what he liked sexually other than his obvious
interest.  He must have talked about me with Kurt.  Kurt was a
gossip. Wilson was so big I wasn't sure I'd have much choice in the matter.

I didn't need to worry. As a tackle, he had to be aggressive. He was not
aggressive sexually. He seemed unsure of himself and I took the lead. He
had a hairy chest and his uncut cock hid in his thick bush.  I dropped to
my knees and sought out his meat. At first, I thought it was thick and
short, like a butt plug. It was thick, but I was wrong about the short
part. It took a while to get him hard.  I think that was because it was so
large it took time to fill up.

His foreskin was thick and I worked my tongue into the puckered tip. I
encountered the tip of his cock head and the oozing slit right away. It was
huge, but delicate and sensitive. Wilson still worked out had he muscles
were firm and hard, but he shivered when my tongue licked his knob.

He was oozing when I entered his foreskin, when I began working his cock
head the dribbles of sweet ooze became a flood. I soon had the entire nob
in my mouth. He was moaning in pleasure. As few seconds later, he filled my
mouth with his sperm. His cream enveloped my tongue and would have moaned
in excitement if I hadn't been so busy swallowing it. His ejaculations were
forceful and the spurting sperm tickled my tongue.

"Damn, you were primed and ready," I said

"I'm sorry about that, you were really good," he whispered. He slipped down
and swallowed my cock. He was a delicate sucker. I relaxed as he worked my
cock for about ten minutes. I saw that he was still hard, so we moved into
the sixty-nine position.

"You must have a short recharge time," I said.

"It usually takes two or three orgasms to drain my balls," he said. "Some
guys lose interest."

"I have a suspicion I am not one of those," I said. He smiled. I returned
my attention to his cock. It was big, but it seemed friendly. I am not sure
a cock can be friendly, but that was what I felt.

"What does it take to drain your balls in a single shot?" I asked. He
looked me in the eye.

"A nice, tight and warm ass does the trick," he replied. We were silent for
a little while.

"I might be able to help you with that," I said.

Wilson was careful. He was so big I think he was afraid he might hurt me.
He didn't. I sat on his erect member.  That gave me control and a chance to
get to know his cock as it slid into my ass.  I became enthusiastic when
his oversized knob rubbed my prostate. When I started to wiggle and rotate
my ass, Wilson became enthusiastic.

Wilson later told me that men tended to take his cock on a dare and to
prove thye could take it. Others wanted it because he had been a pro
football player. I enjoyed it and that was good for him. Once he was fully
lodged, he rolled me over and we experimented some. His cock was a little
longer and a little thinner than Gus's organ, but his cock head was bigger.

I could feel the knob moving in my rectum. Wilson tested my limits and
discovered all was well. He liked to pound for a while and then slow down
and massage my ass. Since, he had shot off earlier he didn't have the need
to climax. I knew he was edging, stopping just sort of the orgasm.

From time to time, he pulled out and then toyed with my sphincter.  I tried
to grab his cock head, but it was too slippery, but Wilson loved it when I
tried.

"Kiss it, kiss it with your ass!" he cried. I tried to grab it. I almost
got a grip on it then I felt his squirting. He shoved it deep and I could
feel him squirting the whole way.  His semen was forceful, his ejaculations
tickled.

After that display, Wilson dress and continued his jog. Tim came down and I
sucked him off.  Tim had been playing with McManus and his boys. I hadn't
orally taken is load in a week or two. I may be my imagination but I could
taste his pleasure in his sperm. We hugged afterward; we were both happy.

Rufus and Dudley helped me with the house. Roger had filled it with
stuff. I could not tell what was a rare antique and what was second had
junk. Lawrence helped. They were knowledgeable men and it seemed that the
ratio antique to junk was three to one. The antiques ranged from being good
to museum quality.

Max, a Latin teacher was interested in antiquities, but not in antiques.
Roger had been sending him furniture for years and Max liked what he
had. Max had a small house and had no desire to move to anything grander.
Roger's furniture wouldn't fit in his house.

Lawrence knew and an appraiser and suggested that we bring him in to
carefully evaluate the contents of the house.  A week later, I met Kurt von
Ritter, the appraiser.  He was a trip.