Date: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 02:51:52 -0700
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Waldo the Virgin  Hunter 11

Waldo the Virgin Hunter 11
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!

The president of the University, Helen Duke, was a good woman. She was an
academic and a woman of principle. She was a professor of Chemistry and her
father was an English Professor who taught at Penn. She joked that she was
born on the Tenure track.

Her principles included a strong commitment to academic freedom and an
opposition to censorship.  The College of Arts and Science sponsored a
lecture series on major issues.  It invited scholars to discuss global
warming, over population and water pollution.

The university invited distinguished scientists for these lectures, and
they tended to be technical and rather dry. I was the security officer at
one of the global warming lectures and the speaker, William Dunn, was
smart, but his lecture dealt with statistical analysis.

A non-university group complained that the University was not presenting
the other side.  The head of the physics department said that the lectures
were science not opinion. The lecturers were distinguished scientists not
pundits. He added that it was hard to find a pro-water pollution, pro
global warming scientist who was not a crackpot or an idiot.

That may have been true, but it wasn't very politic. It was picked up on a
cable news channel and it became a sensation. There were picketers at the
president's office and at the Physics Department offices. At first, it was
just a nuisance, but when someone threw a brick at President Duke, we had
to take action.  I was one of the force assigned to guard duty.

I was use to drunken students, adolescents in heat and street people off
their meds. They were a piece of cake compared to the crazies who picketed
the President. These crazies didn't know that they should have been on
medication. They were a varied and mixed bag. Most were professional
protesters. They weren't protesting the lecture series. They were
protesting a variety of things, abortion, secular humanism and the modern
world in general.

They were also prone to violence. They liked to throw punches, bottles and
rocks. They tended to be vulgar, and their rage was unrelated to the
problem they were protesting.  They seemed to relish attacking the
president. Dr. Duke was a woman who didn't know her place.

In fact, she was a widow and had raised three children while supporting
them by teaching full time. I soon discovered that logic and truth did not
play a role in the protesters world. They made up their own facts and
reality was not a part of their worldview.

The students made the situation more complicated. At first they thought the
protesters were a joke, but after the brick they took things more
seriously. The science building was on University property and off the
street so it was easy to protect. The president's office was in a historic
house on a public street. We could not close a public right of way.

The students mounted counter demonstrations and got between the
demonstrators and the president. That made it difficult for us. The
students originally used the traditional, "get out of here you fucking
assholes," approach. I suggested to one of them that a more imaginative way
to make their points.

Several days later oversized effigies of Newton, Darwin and Einstein
appeared. They were very photogenic and made the television news. Several
days later, the students added smaller Flintstone figures claiming that the
protesters learned all they knew about science from the Flintstones. That
caused a stir.

The University owned the land, but the city owned the streets and
sidewalks, thus we could only do so much to control the protesters. The
city was waiting for the protesters to do something bad to allow them to
crack down. The University police was committed to avoiding anything bad.

One of the leaders of the protest was a Baptist Minister who was
semi-rational, Roy Reed.  He was in his mid-forties and had just become a
minister. He was the assistant minister for some church in Georgia.  I
think they sent him to Richmond as a test of his faith. At first, I thought
he was stupid, but he was just limited. He had never been anywhere, done
anything or seen anything. He was a country boy who didn't have much
knowledge of the world outside of God-know-where Georgia. He was
anti-violence and that was a plus for me.

I had been worried that there would be violence generated by our students,
but once Newton and Darwin arrived on the scene all was well. They were big
and complicated puppets and required considerable effort to create and
operate. That kept the students busy. Originally, several art students
designed them, but eventually the theater people joined in, as did
Engineering students. The effigies soon could roll their eyes and
talk. Twelve to fifteen feet tall, a student in the puppet could make then
seem semi-human.  This was meat and potatoes for television.

With the focus on oversized figures, media attention turned from the
demonstrators to the counter demonstrators. It was hard for the whack-jobs
to compete with a twelve-foot tall Darwin. One station did an interview
with the stuffed Darwin when the man inside was a biology major with a
taste for stand up comedy.  It was an internet sensation.

I should have realized the protesters would try to make a grab the
publicity spotlight before they gave up. On a Wednesday, at three in the
afternoon, they made an all-out attack on Darwin and Einstein. The plan was
to knock them over and declare victory. It was supposed to be a spontaneous
looking uprising of good people against the godless students.

God must not be a creationist, because they picked a bad day. The effigies
were being used as a backdrop for several sororities' pictures, so it
looked like a bunch of rednecks attacking young women. The women took deep
offence, as did students, faculty and staff. They rushed to the defense of
the girls and the puppets.

This time the protesters also blocked traffic triggering a substantial
showing by the city police. There were cameras everywhere so there was no
question as to who attacked whom. I had been off duty and got to the scene
after the police started hauling off protesters.  There were young women
with broken noses and black eyes. Several professors were hurt. The puppets
stood tall, surrounded by a human shield of students.

Police and State Troopers were everywhere as were television cameras and
cell phones.  The scene was surreal. I found Roy, on the ground, beaten up.
I was afraid some off our students had done it, but it was his fellow
protesters.  Roy had objected to the proposed attack. He was beaten up for
his good sense. He had called the police to warn them of the potential
problem.

There was nothing for the University Police to do. It was a city matter
now. Many of the protesters were in jail charged with violent criminal
assault. City EMTs patched up Roy and I took him home. He thought he was
okay, but I wasn't sure. He called his church and had a hard time with the
senior minister.  He was fired for not showing enough zeal for the cause. I
got on the phone and mentioned that there was a potential for major
criminal charges and Roy might be the only one to spare the church from
being involved in a criminal conspiracy. He mellowed quickly and emphasized
the church was interested only in peaceful protests.

Roy wasn't cut badly, but they had kicked him when he was down and he was
badly bruised.  He wanted to take a shower, but he had troubled talking his
clothes off. He was getting stiffer by the minute. I helped him undress and
then helped him wash. Bending over was difficult. I had to help him shower
since he couldn't reach anything. Roy had a good body and an even better
cock.

He had been staying in a demonstrator's camper and had nowhere to go, so he
stayed with me. I continue to help him shower.  After two days, his cock
began to respond. I didn't say anything, but I figured out what he liked
and did it more. He became more excited but pretended he did not notice. A
few days later, he was feeling better, but we still showered together.

He called the Senior Minister for guidance again and this time the minister
fired him and told him not to return to the church. Hot heads were in
control.  I later found a major donor to the church was behind the
protests, so firing Roy was a good way to please the donor.

I think Roy would have been disturbed by this, but he felt so bad, being
fired was just a drop in the bucket. His recovery was slow. I took him to
the university clinic.  They did some x-rays and they said it was cracked
ribs and bruises. There was nothing to do but wait for it to heal itself.
They gave him some pain pills. The pills worked like a charm, but left him
groggy. I could had sent him home, but he was too groggy to function so he
stayed with me.

By then he realized he was unemployed. The priest next door came over to
talk with him. I would not have thought that an Episcopal Priest and Roy
would hit it off. Dunlop was a good man and he was genuinely concerned
about his fellow man. Roy liked him. Roy had a degree from a correspondence
school of divinity.

Dunlop had been to a real seminary and was knowledgeable. That was an eye
opening experience for Roy. Dunlop wasn't pushy and he let Roy come to his
own understandings. Dunlop also found out that Roy became a preacher
because of a big sin. He hoped that by becoming a minister God would
forgive him for his depraved thoughts. Both Dunlop and I guessed the nature
of his sin.

I told Dunlop about our shower experience. He said he would try to help me
out. I don't know what he did, but the next time we were in the shower, Roy
reached half-staff.  Inspired by that, my cock became fully erect. Our
cocks touched and Roy moaned. I hugged him and rubbed our cocks
together. We didn't talk, but I slipped to my knees and licked his
organ. He had a single ejaculation.

I took the spurt, let him calm down and then continued sucking. At first,
Roy stood still and moaned once and a while. His cock twitched and drooled
continuously. After five minutes, he began to relax.

"Let's go to the bedroom and get more comfortable," I said. We got out of
the shower and dried off. In the bedroom, I resumed my cock sucking duties.

"What do I have to do?" he whispered.

"You can do whatever you want," I said. "I am happy with whatever is good
for you."

"What if I shoot off?" he asked.

"That is exactly what we are here for," I said. "It's what I expect. Don't
worry. Men's anatomy is all about the same.  It won't be a surprise. Do you
need a little rest period?"

"That would be nice," Roy said. "I'm feeling a little dizzy." We broke
apart and I got beside him. He reached over and stroked my cock a few
times.  He then touched my cock head with his finger and spread my pre cum
around my knob. "You're hard. What is the slippery stuff?"

"The slippery stuff is precum, and your balls produce it when you are
really excited. I am excited as are you," I said. "It is sweet and tastes
good."

"You like it?"

"I do. It also means you are getting into it. You produce it before you
shoot off," I said. "Have you ever taken a close up look at a guy's cock?"
I rotated on the bed so my cock was at his eye level and his was at mine.

"You've got a beauty. You are a big boy!" I said. "Size doesn't make that
much difference. All cocks are made for pleasure, but big ones turn me on."

"You've seen mine before many times in the shower," Roy said.

"I like to make sure a man is interested before I go where I might not be
welcome," I said. "Sexual pleasure is very intense and personal. Some men
think they are hot stuff and force themselves on uneasy partners. I don't
enjoy it unless my partner enjoys it."

"I enjoyed it a lot," Roy whispered.

"You have barely started experiencing the possible pleasures of sex," I
said. "There is a wide world of pleasure possible. It's not
complicated. You are a nice guy and I am a nice guy. We are just enjoying
each other. There are no strings attached and no complications."

I took his cock into my mouth and resumed sucking. His cock had softened a
little, but immediately responded. A little later his mouth was on my
cock. I tasted a little spurt of precum from his cock. I knew it would be
okay.

It took him a few minutes to get into it, but soon he had most of it in his
throat. I tend to ooze and he seemed to like that. I was milking him and he
copied my movements. He liked my ball juices.

"Are you okay?" I asked.  "I don't want to take you somewhere you don't
want to go.  Have you ever done this before?"

"It's really exciting," he said. "I played around with a cousin when I was
a kid. I was too scared to suck, but it was fun. Ronnie, that was my
cousin's name, told me he messed around with an older guy. That was really
fun he said."

"Did you ever meet this guy?"

"Sort off," he replied. "Ronnie and I played at a swimming hole. I went
there hoping to meet him. He came with an older man.  I was in the bushes
and just watched. The man was Tommy Smith. He was my dad's best friend. I
thought he might just have happened to be there, but he stripped naked and
jumped in the water with Ronnie. I was too embarrassed to join them."

"When they came out of the water, both of them were hard. I had seen Ronnie
hard, but Tommy was a surprise. I hadn't guessed he was that big. Ronnie
sucked him and then Tommy sucked Ronnie. I hadn't guessed he would do that;
he liked it too. A little later Tommy had Ronnie's legs on his shoulders
and he was fucking. Tommy bellowed when he shot off, but then he pulled out
and sucked Ronnie off.  He ate Ronnie's cum. I didn't know you could do
that."

"Did you tell Ronnie that you were watching?" I asked.

"No, Ronnie was a few years older than men and a few weeks later he went
off and joined the army. My dad and Tommy liked hunting and fishing
alone. I saw a few glances between them," he said.

"Did you ever connect with Tommy?"

"No, but I thought about him a lot," Roy said.  "It's hard to believe
Ronnie would let Tommy get in him.  Tommy liked it, but Ronnie seemed to
like it too. I can't imagine what it feels like. You look a little like
Tommy."

"Do you like that?" I asked. Roy nodded. The phone rang and I was needed at
school. I left and went to a meeting with the University attorneys. Since I
had Roy at my apartment, they wanted to know more about his involvement.  I
explained the situation. The meeting ran for two hours.

When I returned to my apartment I found Roy talking with Dunlop. It was a
conversation about sin and pleasure.  Roy was attracted to men, and found
sex with me intensely exciting and pleasurable. He was a true born-again
who suspected deep in his heart that pleasure was sinful and intense
pleasure was even more sinful.

Dunlop claimed that Roy was an Old Testament Christian. Many born-agains
prefer the strict and violent God of the Old Testament who likes to punish,
torture and kill sinners to the forgiving and loving God of Jesus. The love
thy neighbor and forgive your enemies theme had little appeal. It was more
important to find Noah's Arc that to ponder the meaning of the Sermon on
the Mount.

"I think that using another person for your own sexual pleasure is a sin;
sharing sexual pleasure with a friend is not," Dunlop explained. "Deceit
and treachery are the sins, not the sex. It is the same way with
money. Money isn't in itself sinful; it is the way you make it. Honest
labor is good. If you make a great invention, you are due the profits from
that invention. If you stole the invention or made your profit by cheating
your employees of their far wages, it is sinful." The conversation was long
and extended. We went out to dinner and I feel asleep.

The next day was Monday and I was on duty. I was to testify at a court
hearing about the protests. I met with the university lawyers at 8:00 and
was due at court for the hearing at 10:00. I am not a great fan of lawyers
but I admit there is a great difference between good lawyers and bad
lawyers.

The University Lawyers were very good. The protestors' lawyers were
poor. They opened the defense by misstating the Constitution, and then made
the claim that the City had no right or need to maintain the free flow of
traffic on public right-of-ways, and thus had no standing in the case. They
followed this with a claim that criminal acts committed for Jesus were
protected by the Bill of Rights.

I was watching the Judge who didn't quite gape in amazement at these
claims, but he came close. The University lawyers said the school was a
bastion of free speech and the University had bent over backwards to
accommodate free speech. They said that the students and faculty of the
school had the same rights to free speech and there are no circumstances
when one side of a debate is allowed the resolve the issue by attacking the
other.

The Judge adjourned the case for a week, but expressed concern that the
case might end in a mistrial due to the incompetence of the defense
lawyers. He said that serious jail time of five to ten years was possible
for assault and battery. "This is not a political or constitutional
question, it is a simple criminal case. It was an unprovoked attack with
injuries," he explained.

I called Roy and told him the case was postponed. He was confused. He
wanted to go home, but he wasn't sure he was welcome there. He was
unemployed and homeless. Dunlop was trying to find a place for him to
live. His church had an extensive social ministry.

The cable news channels had extensive coverage of the court case. He had
watched it and when I returned home, he was disturbed. The defense case was
subject to considerable merriment on the television. The media treated it
as little more than a joke, and one channel had a long list of the major
errors of fact in the defense case.

Roy wasn't disturbed by that. He realized that the demonstrators were left
out to dry in favor of what was little more than a publicity stunt. They
were facing jail time and his former church did not give a damn.

That night, he fucked me.  I had sucked him to an erection and then I sat
on his cock. He liked it. He didn't actually say he liked it. I interpreted
it from his moans. At first, I just sat still and let him get used to the
tight warmth. His cock was a good size for me, filling, but not oversized.
I squeezed tight and began to massage it. Eventually I got on my back and
gave him control.

He thrust vigorously for a while and then was still. I felt him squirting
his man seed in my ass. I watched his face as he ejaculated. He was calm
and serene. His look suggested he had discovered the secret of life. He
left his cock in me after the orgasm. I used me sphincter to milk the last
drops of semen from his cock.

The next morning he was still in bed with me. "Was it good last night?" he
asked in a whisper.

"Oh yes, it was," I replied. "I could tell it was good for you too."

"I thought it might be dirty, but it wasn't," I said. "It was beautiful. I
couldn't sleep last night thinking about it."

"Do you want to fuck me again?"

"I do, but that's not what I was thinking about," Roy said. "I was thinking
about you being in me. Do you ever think about that?"

"I think about that all the time," I said. "I was hoping someday you might
invite me in. is this that day?"

"Yes it is," Roy replied.

I took my time and opened him slowly. He was tight but relaxed some. When
my knob rubbed his prostate, he surrendered to the pleasure. I pulled out
and let him fuck me for a while, and then re-entered him. Each time we did
that, he was more open and responsive. By the time he feel asleep that
night, he was mine and I was his.