Date: Wed, 28 May 2014 19:31:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Waldo the Virgin Hunter 10

Waldo the Virgin Hunter 10
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, any comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com

If you enjoy these stories, please consider donating to Nifty

I was surprised when Grant Dudley called me and asked me out for some
coffee. He was the operations man for Atlantic University's police
department. He had a problem. Atlantic was an expensive private school for
rich kids. Atlantic could give you a good education if you wanted it, but
it was a party school if you wanted that.

I had long suspected that they had a problem separating boys-will-be-boys
pranks from more serious problems. Apparently, a few of the boys seemed to
think that sexual assault was a prank. This was not good, but the situation
was worse than that. There seemed to be a serial rapist on the campus.

Of course, that is job for the city police. The school had not been
reporting the attacks and now it would be a major problem if it were known
that the school was hiding the crimes. Grant wanted my opinion.

"It doesn't seem to me that you have any choice but to call in the police,"
I said.  "They have vastly more personnel and resources that you do. You
need to warn the students too."

"Our Chief is worried about lawsuits," Grant said.

"The longer you wait the bigger the problems will grow," I said.

"That's the way I see it too," Grant said. "At the school you are in a
cocoon, an alternate reality that lulls you into thinking these are just
pranks that got out of hand. Felonies are not pranks. I have talked to the
powers that be, and they are opposed to making it public.  They think it
will just go away."

"They will be really unhappy with you, you know that?" I asked. He nodded.

The next day he went to the city police. The school issued a series of
press releases. Included in the releases was one saying that Grant Dudley
had resigned. That was a clever move. They didn't say he was involved with
hiding the rapes; it just happened that he resigned. Grant was toast.

His wife was a faculty member at Atlantic. She decided to stay at the
school and divorce Grant. I saw Grant several months later. He was working
at Lowes.

"I'm afraid my advice may have sent you to the dog house," I said.

"I did the right thing. I hadn't guessed that they would use me as a
sacrificial lamb, but it's good to know that," he said. "I had no idea I
was working with a bunch of snakes." I commiserated with him and went on. I
ran into him a few times over the next few months.

We shared a table at lunch and he said he was having trouble reconnecting
socially with people. "It's must be hard to start dating again," he
said. "I seem to be over the hill for most.  Most woman want a man who is
younger or has more money."

"Take your time, things will eventually work out," I said. "I'm not much of
a catch either."

"Where do you find women?" he asked.

"Well, I'm not really looking for women," I said.  He looked puzzled and
then he realized what I meant.

"I guess it's different strokes for different folks," he replied. "Do you
have a partner?"

"I'm not looking for a partner either," I replied. "You could say I like
the recreational side of personal relationships with no strings attached."

"I started dating my wife in High School. She believed in true, one and
only love," Grant said. "She said she out grew me. I put her through
college and graduate school!  I would have been better off with fewer
strings."

"I suspect a no strings relationship may deepen, but it's harder when a
deep relationship goes bad," I said. He was hoping to get into a police
force again and he asked me if I had any leads. I said I didn't, but if he
needed anyone to explain the situation at Atlantic, I would be glad to tell
them what I knew.

As we left the restaurant he asked, "What are your no strings relationships
like?"

"Intense, very pleasurable and short," I said. "You can let off a lot of
steam in an hour." He laughed and walked away. I did not know what he was
after, he seemed like a complete straight arrow, but you never know.

We were reaching the end of the semester when students go crazy. They have
tests to take and papers to write and when you combine stress with a dose
of stupid and hormones you never know what will happen. We had three mental
breakdowns and two attempted suicides. The suicides weren't very
sincere. Several parties got out of hand. After the last day of tests, all
the students vanished and my job became more like a night watchman than a
cop.

On a Friday afternoon, I saw Grant and I asked him to have a beer at my
apartment. He wanted that but seemed nervous. We had a few beers and he
relaxed some. He was in the running for a job as a planner for a security
company.

"Waldo, you mentioned you liked no strings fun. That has been sounding
better and better to me," Grant said. "Is there any chance you might be
able to help me out? I really need some fun."

I smiled. "I hate to say it, but there is always a chance. There is one
problem. I don't like being with guys who lay there like a log and then
shoots off and goes home. I like a little reciprocation."

"How much reciprocation?" he asked.

"Let's just say I like a sincere effort," I said. "I like to know you enjoy
it and appreciate my efforts."

"I like to fuck," he whispered.

I smiled. "That might take quite a bit of appreciation. By the way, I like
to fuck too."

Grant smiled. "I understand that," he said. "That seems fair." We went to
my bedroom and stripped. He was a good-looking man and he looked even
better naked. He worked out and it showed.  He had a dusting of hair on his
chest. He had five inches, uncut, soft and low hangers. I dropped to my
knees and got the ball rolling.

He jumped when I first made contact with his cock, but thirty seconds later
all was well. When I saw well, I mean really well. He was moaning in
pleasure and oozing buckets of precum.

"I take it that you like being sucked?" I asked.

"I had no idea it was this good. My wife tried it once and it wasn't good,"
Grant said. "She hated it."

"Men are more into cock than women, I think. When was the last time you got
off other than using the one handed salute?" I asked.

"Two years ago, maybe two and a half years," he said.  That explained a
lot. He was desperate for some sex and way overdue for some tension
release. I am not sure he wanted me.  He probably wanted anyone who was
willing. That did not bother me. I had no problem helping a man in need.

Grant did not know it, but he was like a bear who had just fallen into a
pot of honey. I was experienced and skilled and he was a novice. I gave him
the grand tour. He loved it and about fifteen minutes into the tour, his
mouth found my cock and they got along just fine. We sixty-nined and that
was the perfect way to gauge his excitement level. He oozed buckets every
time he deep throated me.

We took a break after a half hour. It had been intense and we both needed
to catch our breath. "How are you doing?" I asked.

"Damn, I really don't know. I'm dizzy. It feels great, but I can't get a
grip on things," he said. "I had no idea it would be like this."

"What did you think it would be like?"

"I thought it would be dirty. I ate out my ex-wife once or twice and hated
it. I thought I would dislike the cock ooze. I loved it."

"I like a cock like yours that responds to everything I do. I like the
taste of precum, and yours I good," I said.

"I can't believe we are talking about this stuff," he said.

"Does it bother you?"

"I thought it did, but now it just turns me on."

"I don't want to shock you, but I suspect that at this point just about
everything will turn you on," I said.

"You may be right about that. I feel like a teenager again," Grant
said. "It's all new to me and exciting but I'm a bit scared I might do
something wrong."

"Don't worry about that," I said. "Let me suggest something that might
sound strange. When we are naked, try to forget you are a straight
man. Pretend you are a gay man with another gay man. You want to milk every
drop of pleasure from our genitals. You like to kiss, suck and fuck like a
wild man. Do not hold back; go for it.  Once we you have shot off, you can
be a straight man again."

"I don't know if I can do that," he replied. I leaned over and licked his
oozing cock. I was sure he wouldn't have a problem. He was needy and sex
deprived. When you combine that with the prospect of ecstatic sexual
pleasure, he was willing too.

I knew he wanted to fuck.  I was going to use that as a reward for his
participation. He was into man sex big time after fifteen minutes. I
decided to let him try it. That turned out to be sort of mistake. It wasn't
bad; it was way too good. His cock was a perfect fit for my ass. I don't
mind being fucked, but it's not my favorite activity.  I am naturally a
top.

His cock rang my chimes, floated my boat and sent me to the moon. It did
everything a cock could do. I am a good top and I had done that to some of
my playmates. I was great when that happened.  I loved shooting creamy
sperm into my partner's quivering ass. I knew it was good for me, but
didn't know what my playmate was feeling. Now I knew.

Grant knew it was good too. "Damn, I's been years since I've done anything
this good. You're so fucking tight," he cried. He pounded hard a few times
and I felt a flood of warm semen fill my ass. Grant was crying. I think the
emotions were too strong. He began to pull away.

"Leave it in for a little while. Let me milk it," I said. He did as I
asked. One guy I knew had done that to me after I shot off. It had been
good and it was good for Grant.

We both calmed down. His cock never completely lost his erection. I
squeezed it and rotated my ass. A few minutes later, he was hard again.

"I didn't expect that," he said. "It was better than I had guessed."

"It was good for me too."

"To tell you the truth it was more than good," he added. "It was mind
blowing."

"Does that bother you?"

"I don't know. It seemed to me that it shouldn't have been that good," he
said. "I fucked my wife for fifteen years and it was never that good."

"Are you worried that you are gay?" I asked. "Sex and love aren't the same
thing. I enjoy sex, but I do not want to marry all the men I have hooked up
with. Sometimes the sex is great with men I am not attracted to and poor
with good-looking studs. Life is filled with surprises."

"Well this has been one hell of a surprise for me," Grant said. "I don't
know what to think."

"Well, if you would like to do it again, I'm game," I said.

"Hot damn," he replied. I was relieved at his response. For most men the
choice between easy sex and deep thoughts is an easy one. Grant made the
right choice.

"Let's take our time and see if we can make it last," I suggested.

"I'm not sure I can do that," he whispered. I asked him to get on his back
and let me sit on it. He did as I asked and I sat on his tool. Grant moaned
as his member slid into my ass. It was beautiful for me.

I wondered if Grant was a born-again who was worried about pleasure. Some
of them think that denial, going without and avoiding pleasure are the mark
of a good person. Pleasure and enjoyment are snares of the devil. It always
seemed to me that if pain and suffering were god's gift and happiness and
pleasure were the devil's, I would go looking for another god.

As I wiggled my ass on Grant's love pole, I wondered if it might be a
foretaste of heaven. His cock hit some places than made me feel a bit
divine. Grant's problem with man sex was not that it was bad; it was too
good.

Sex is its own reward, and while he may have been uneasy, he had a second
mind-blowing orgasm and eventually a third. He went home confused and
relaxed in a way he rarely experienced. Most of his sexual tension and
repression was in my ass.

A few weeks later, Grant had an interview at Hanover and the Chief called
me for a recommendation. I told him the real story.  My Chief had suspected
something like that. It was difficult for us to hire him because of the
local publicity, but the Chief knew of a police chief job for a town in the
Valley. They hired Grant as an acting chief. He did a good job and they
appointed him the chief a year later.

It was a month after I heard of that, that he came by my house on a
Saturday morning. He was in town for a meeting.

"I'm sorry just to drop in," he said. "I didn't have a chance to say good
bye."

"It's good to see you," I said. "Come on in for some coffee." He came in
and told me about his job. He loved it there and he had done well.

"I think a lot about what we did here," he said. "I was afraid you might
think I didn't enjoy it. It was great, I mean really good."

"You don't need to worry about that, Grant. I could tell it was good for
you.  It was good for me too."

He looked at me uneasily. "To tell you the truth, I liked fucking you more
than fucking my wife. You were tighter, but more open. My cock tingled when
I was in you. Somehow, I thought my cock was welcome. My wife thought my
cock was an invader," he said. "When I shot off in your ass, it was the
best moment of my entire life.  I thought you enjoyed it."

"You thought right! This may sound strange, but I was in love with you as
long as your cock was in my ass. It only lasted as long as we were
connected, but it was good!  I could feel you ejaculating; that was
wild. Every time I think about your seed in my ass I get a warm feeling," I
said. "Do you want to fuck again?"

"I sure do!" he replied. He was silent for a few seconds. "Would you do me
too? I want to feel you in me." I was more than willing. His tented pants
indicated he was ready. We went to the bedroom and I sat on his cock. He
loved that. I bounced on it. Each time I rose up so only the tip of his
cock head was in me and then I sat back. He moaned every time.

I knew the way Grant thought and each time I did that, I knew he would have
to pay me back with his open ass. A cock is always a bit like a loaded gun
with the safety off.  I overdid it and he shot off. I could feel him
squirting in my ass. As his hot cream filled my ass, I again felt warm and
affectionate. We kissed and got into an intense make out session.

A little later my cock as at his hole. I had lubricated his ass well, and
he shivered as my knob touched his anus.

"I loved having you in me," I said. "I could feel you squirting. It was
beautiful."

"I've never had anyone like it as much as you did," Grant whispered. He
relaxed as he said that; his sphincter relaxed and my cock slipped in. "My
wife made me pull out before I popped most of the time."  My tool slipped
in deeper.

"She missed the best part," I said. "Will you take mine?" He didn't need to
answer; he just moaned as the last inch of my cock slipped into him. I'm
not sure Grant knew that the prostate is a sex organ. He had a muscular and
tight ass that firmly gripped my cock. Every time I rammed his prostate, he
moaned and relaxed his firm grip. I rammed deeper into his virgin ass.

I alternated heavy-duty ass ramming, with interludes of gentle anal
massage. Grant liked the intensity and the tenderness. I pulled out a few
times and opened my ass for him. We were friends sharing each other.  Grant
was an uptight man. At some point Grant relaxed and just enjoyed the
sensations. He stopped worrying that he might be gay, or that he was doing
it wrong, or he might be sinning.  He just gave up all his worries and went
with his emotions. He let himself feel the pleasure and respond to it.

When he went back to his job the next morning, Grant was a happy man.