Date: Fri, 17 Dec 2010 13:18:25 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Plato's Lodge 3

Plato's Lodge 3

By Bald Hairy Man

This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you don't like that, DON'T
read it. You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, not for
minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual.  No effort to portray safe sex
practices has been made.  If you have, any comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com.


I slept well, but when I woke the next morning, my mind was spinning. I had
read Whitman and just been fucked by a common carpenter and a distinguished
professor. It was the poet's phantasy. Both men were much bigger than I
was, but had been gentle. Either could have forced his cock into me without
difficulty. They took their time and made love to me. I felt intense
pleasure. I had never considered the possibility that a man could express
his affection with his cock. It wasn't love with Seth or Professor
Williams, but I did feel friendship.

So many of the words used to describe sex are from the woman's point of
view. A woman is taken, ravished, degraded or ruined. By losing her
virginity, a woman becomes damaged goods unless it is on her wedding
night. None of these terms applied to any of my relations with men. Rather
than losing my virginity, I discovered a new world of pleasure. I enjoyed
having another man's organ give me pleasure.

My ass had been an entirely utilitarian part of my body. Now, it too was a
sex organ. Seth didn't just fuck me; my ass caressed his manly organ. When
I tightened my sphincter, he moaned in pleasure. When I rubbed my prostate
against the Professor's thick shaft, the pleasure was mutual.

Both men had massive orgasms and shot their man seed into me. Frankly, I
thought they gave me more than I gave them. Theoretically, I should have
felt guilty to let a total stranger's privates into my body.  I knew I was
supposed to have been shocked and have felt degraded, but I didn't feel
that at all. I loved it. It was well beyond anything I had ever felt
before.

My feeling was perhaps like a small child who suddenly learns how to
walk. A completely new world opens for the child. While the child is prone
to fall and be injured, the new wider horizons are so exciting, he ignores
the dangers to explore.  That is the way I felt.

I have since discovered not every man feels that way about being
fucked. Everyone likes to suck and be sucked, but fucking is a more complex
matter. I loved it and wanted to learn more.  The roomers and visitors at
Plato's Lodge were more than willing to help.

Paulo Rossi, the Italian sculptor, seemed over-sexed to me. Brawny and
hairy he spent the day chiseling stone. Each evening he returned from his
work sweaty and dirty.  A small stream crossed my property and my father
built a small damn to create a pond. It was in the middle of the property
and was not visible outside. In the summer, Paulo went to the pond to
bathe.  In bad weather, he made a special arrangement to have a daily
bath. I expected my cook to draw the bath, but he was busy making dinner.
The task fell to me.

I thought it was going to be an annoying chore, but it turned into a
pleasure. Paulo was built like a well-known statue of Hercules. I had seen
engravings of the Farnese Hercules before. The musculature of the statue
impressed me as un-natural.  It seemed impossible a man could achieve that
level of physical development.

After seeing Paulo nude, I realized the classical sculptor must have used
another sculptor as a model. He was a living version of the sculpture. His
privates were distinctly not classically modest. His balls were huge,
although his cock seemed average in size when not erect. I was deeply
attracted to him physically. He had modeled in Italy and was entirely
comfortable being nude.  He was never naked, or uneasy.

He was self-assured sexually, enthusiastic and generous. After the first
time I made his bath, I sucked him and he rewarded me with a mouthful of
his man seed.  The next time he took mine, with great enthusiasm and
obvious pleasure. For some reason I have a vision of sculptors as dour,
somber men. Paulo was anything but that.

Rodney and the Professor talked of sex in spiritual terms, and as part of
an effort to achieve Classical ideals. Paulo liked sex plain and simple.
He had no pretentious and needed no excuses. I liked his view, and
curiously, no one objected to him or his lack of philosophical basis for
man sex. Paulo didn't speak English well, but somehow he was always
understood.

I introduced Paulo to Seth and the two men got along well. They both worked
with their hands and were powerfully built. I associated man sex with weak
or effeminate men. These were two strong men, entirely without feminine
characteristics. Seth told me he had a friend or two who might like to meet
me. "Paulo also has some mates," Seth said. "It's hard to find a place
where you can get together and enjoy each other. Discovery would be a
disaster.  Most of our connections have been limited for that reason."

"Invite your friends here," I said. "It is secluded and private."

"That would be nice," Seth said.  "My friends, however, would be uneasy
doing it with a gentleman such as you."

"Have I every complained?" I asked. "I had never thought I put on airs.  If
I have, I deeply apologize. It was unintentional."

"No sir, you have been straight with me," Seth said. "There are gentlemen
who seek out laborers for their pleasure. That is often one sided, if you
get my drift. I have told them, you aren't that kind of a man." We talked a
little longer and decided to ask them over on Sunday afternoon. Most of the
men were free that day.

Paulo had two friends. Karl was an Austrian born sculptor, and Sean was an
Irishman. Seth had three companions. Oliver and Thomas were native
Philadelphians and Malcolm was a Scot. All were manly and muscular.  I
found them most attractive. I noted they all wore their best clothes. It
was late summer and unusually warm.  We went to the pond to swim. Most men
were use to swimming naked as a youth, and the men liked this.

I liked them when I first saw them; naked I liked them more.  None of them
would have been mistaken for Apollo. They were all bulky, muscular men,
strong and powerful. They were very much like the men Walt Whitman wrote
about. They were builders and artisans. At the pond Seth, Paulo and I
stripped first and the other men followed. The pond faced the southern sun
and the water was warm. The water was no more than five feet deep, but that
was deep enough to make discrete first contacts under the water.

While the men excited me, I hadn't realized the men were equally
enthusiastic. They had never seen each other nude before. Father Nature has
some firm rules. Interested men become erect. There is no way for a naked
man to hide his interests. Everyone was interested.

After swimming we returned to the house and went to the room, we called,
rather grandly, the conservatory. The conservatory was a glassed in room my
father added to the house.  He enjoyed botany. It faced south and was on
the backside of the house away from the main entrance on the north.  I did
not share my father's interests, but was loath to let his plants die, so
the room was still filled with plants. I now had some chairs and a table as
well as day bed in the room, since I used it as my personal get-away.

Eight men in the room made it crowded. Everywhere you turned; there was an
erect, naked man. I was sitting on a chair and snagged Malcolm's cock as he
passed by. He was a copper haired, short bulldog of a man and his genitals
were compact. His cock head peeked out of his foreskin.  My lips grasped
his cock as my tongue licked his tender hard.

"Blimey!" he exclaimed. As my lips pushed back the skin exposing the entire
head. I tasted the first traces of his ball juices. The men, who patronized
the Lodge, Rodney and his friends, were all well endowed.  I suspected some
of their willingness to get naked was due to this. Men don't mind showing
off their impressive genitals.

The carpenters and sculptors in the conservatory were of all sizes and
shapes. Their genitals were similarly varied. I could easily take Malcolm's
cock into my mouth. I rubbed my tongue on the underside of his cock.  This
had the effect of milking his man juices from his balls.

"Do I need to do it to you?"  he asked in a whisper. "I've never sucked a
man's cock before."

"Do what you enjoy," I said. "Do you like to fuck?"

"That I do, but I've never fucked a Gentleman before." I slipped my finger
and touched his hole.  He spurted some precum in response. I played with
his sphincter and he opened to let my finger in,

"Don't tell the others I like it.  They don't know," he whispered.

"I wouldn't worry about that," I said, "I will bet everyone here is
interested."  I said. "We can do that later. I like a cock in the ass too."
I felt sympathy for Malcolm. He was unaware his sexual tastes and likes
were not solely his own terrible secret; they were shared by many. He
thought he was alone, but in reality, he was part of a great fraternity of
like-minded men. I felt alone and isolated before I encountered Rodney.  I
thought I was a freak of nature, the only man in the world who felt these
sexual urges.

 Instead of moving on, Malcolm sank to the floor and gingerly took my cock
into his mouth.  I think he was afraid it might bite him!  It didn't and he
soon had most of it in his mouth. The tallest man in the group, Karl, the
Austrian Sculptor straddled Malcolm and fed me his cock.

Karl was a giant of a man, but his cock appeared small and thin. Once it
was in my mouth, I discovered that was only in comparison to his huge
body. He was average. More surprising his privates were very sensitive and
responsive.  I assumed this massive crude man was insensitive and had crude
feelings. Every movement of my tongue caused a reaction.  He oozed; he
twitched; he shivered.

It was hard to believe I could control this 300-pound man by touching his
cock with my tongue. I enjoyed that. In spite of his crude appearance, Karl
attended the Academy of Art in Vienna and was a most cultured man. He came
to the United States because of an incident with an Austrian Nobleman. The
Nobleman's family discovered their relationship and forced Karl to leave.

I broke apart and went to my bedroom and brought back some oils for
lubrication should that be needed. The oils were a success. They men were
accustomed to spit as the only lubricant. By now, the initial unease of
being naked in a group of strangers had dissipated. We shared common
interests and lusts.

The men tended to prefer fucking.  Our time in the pond meant everyone's
genitals were bathed and opened the potential for oral pleasures.  I was
introducing Sean, the Irish sculptor, to the oral arts when Thomas, one of
the carpenters entered me from the rear.  This was unexpected, but Thomas
had used the oils. He seemed to have a thin cock, other than a bulbous cock
head.

Once I got over the surprise, it became intensely pleasurable. Sean drooled
a particularly rich brew of cock juices.  He was large, but I could take
the entire organ in my mouth. I would bury my nose in his red bush then
suction his man juice as I pulled off.  To my rear, Thomas would slide in
as I pulled back.  Somehow, his mushroom glans would rub my prostate, as I
tasted Sean's juice.  It was perfect.

While Thomas was a rough looking man, he was a tender fucker.  He looked
like a street brawler who had lost more fights than he had won. I tightened
my sphincter when he was in. "Keep it tight sir!" he asked.  I kept it as
tight as I could. I enjoyed this greatly. Thomas filled my ass with his
seed. His, very vocal orgasm, seemed to inspire Sean, who fed me his Irish
home brew.

The other men noted our experiments with interest. I hadn't climaxed
yet. Oliver and Paulo took their places. Oliver was the youngest man in the
group. He hadn't topped before, so he went to my ass. Paulo fed me his cock
and Karl sucked me. I was fully engaged.  Oliver was wonderful.  His long
cock slipped in easily and he slowly pumped his organ. Karl was
enthusiastic, but had a good sense of how close to shooting I was.  When I
got close, he slowed and let me cool down.

Playing with men is always like playing with a gun.  Men are always loaded
and ready to shoot.  It is somewhat like Russian roulette. Most men lose
interest after the climax. While the climax is intensely pleasurable for
the shooter, his playmates lose their pals. The climax is the ultimate
pleasure for one, but the end of the pleasure for the other.

To some extent, all of us were aiming at the final orgasm, but we were in
no rush. In a group of eight when one man shot off, there were others to
take his place. We went at it for two hours.  Orgasms punctuated the time,
but there were never less than five men who were still erect and
playing. Of course, after two hours of sexual activity there was no trace
of shyness or reserve left. Easing your cock into your friend's ass or
sucking his spewing cock had become the most natural thing in the world.

We all had a chance to do things we had never done before.  More correctly,
we had a chance to do things we have been incapable of conceiving.  Oliver
had fucked for the first time when he entered me. A little later Oliver and
Seth shared my ass. Both cocks fit.  The two cocks rubbing against each
other in my ass were too exciting for them.  They shot off together.

Sean and Thomas took their turns to. I admit I was the only one to take all
of their cocks, but I didn't feel used. I was satisfied sexually, but I was
also pleased they have found my ass so enjoyable. Our party wound down and
the men had to get home. We agreed to meet again.  Thomas said he had
another friend who might like to join us. When they left, Angus and Rodney
joined Paulo and me.  They had watched.

"My dear Wistar, I've never watched a classical orgy before.  Was it as
exciting as it looked?" Rodney asked.

"It was a dream come true," Paulo said in his strong Italian accent. "It
was lovely. Everyone gave and everyone took."

"I believe Wistar gave more and took more, if my eyes didn't deceive me,"
Angus said.

"You must think I am a libertine," I muttered.

"Don't be silly, I would have given my eye teeth to have been in your
position," Rodney said. "I was not the way I thought it would have been,
but it almost certainly was the way it would have been in ancient Greece."

"It is hard to visualize Plato and Socrates in my position," I said.

"Indeed it is, but that is due to our idealization of the ancients, and our
fantasy that great men and philosophers did not really have men's organs,
drives and needs," Angus said. Perhaps they just admired handsome naked
men.  Speaking for myself, admiration leads to fondling, and then to
sucking. I my case somehow I end up someone ass."

"Do you think the philosophers' admirers would not want to please the great
man?" Rodney asked. "Would not sucking the philosopher's man seed, be as
much pleasure as a man could give to another man?"

"Professor Williams and I discovered that you cannot have dispassionate
sex. I think men inevitably desire sex as the ultimate expression of some
forms of love," Rodney added. "It is natural and part of the grand scheme
of life.  No sex eventually means no life.  It is the basic requirement of
continuing the species."

"Well, man sex certainly doesn't lead to procreation," I said.

"It does not, but it may be an important part of man's survival. Think of a
hunting party searching out game. Their wives and children are back in a
cave.  The men would naturally huddle together to keep warm. While
masturbation is enjoyable, it does not approach the excitement of sex with
another person. Would not our hunter play with each other on those long
nights?  Would you not get closer to the men you shared sex with?"

"I suspect Plato and Socrates would forget decorum once their lips touched
a cock," Angus said, "But since they have been dead for over 2,000 years,
that is impossible to know."

"Those worthy's have been dust for centuries, but there are modern men who
admire the Platonic ideal, Randall said. "I know such a man. He knows of
our investigations into Greek love and is most interested in them."

"Are you suggesting he might be interested in our play?" I asked.

"He has told me he is interested," Rodney said.

"Interested or tempted?" I asked.

"He is fully aware of the fine line between interest and temptation,"
Rodney said.  "He is a close friend of Professor Williams, and they have
frankly discussed the sexual aspects in detail. Frankly, he has thought of
sex with men, but is a virgin. Sexual consummation is and abstract ideal
for him.  He has never done the actual act. He is not a young man, so I
think he is overdue."

"I wonder if our activities might shock him?" Angus asked.

"A man of his age and reputation is uneasy of course," Rodney said. "While
in theory he celebrates sexuality, in reality he is embarrassed at his
complete lack of actual participation in any sort of sexual activity. I
think you know Professor Williams is a convincing man. He may come by
tomorrow night with our friend.  My friend admires womanly women and manly
men. He is not attracted to effeminate men or masculine women.  I told him
our man friends are all manly.  Williams thinks our approach to man sex is
joyful and well celebrates the Greek ideal.  I hope that you men can be
here."

Of course, we were all free. Rodney also wanted Seth and Thomas to attend
too. At seven, Professor Williams and his friend knocked on the front
door. Williams introduced his friend simply as Walt.  "I would never have
guessed there was a house here," Walt commented.

"This house is a tribute to my grandfather's poor sense.  He had eleven
children and every time he needed money he sold off a lot on the edge of
the property," I explained.  If he had a twelfth child he might have sold
the drive."

Walt laughed.  "It is attractively secluded, and the house is without
pretension. I love a simple farmhouse."

"Let us go and get more comfortable," Williams said.  "Walt has never been
with a group like ours.  He is nervous."

"We are as private and unpretentious as the house," I said.  "He can relax
and there is no need to worry. Rodney and the professor introduced me to
their ways recently.  I must admit it has been a joy and a pleasure."  Walt
looked slightly familiar.  A minute or two later I realized he was the
great poet, Walt Whitman. We went up to my room where we undressed,

"Are you a swimmer?" I asked when I saw his handsome body.

"I was when I was younger," he said, "I use to exercise a great deal."  We
then crossed the hall to Rodney's room.  Rodney, Julian, Angus, Seth,
Thomas and Paulo were there. All were nude. Most were relaxed, but Thomas
and Julian were somewhat excited. While they clearly were soft, their
foreskins had parted to partially expose the glans. The Professor
introduced Walt to the group. Walt's own organ was entirely enshrouded in
his generous skin. I noticed his cock firmed when he met he carpenters,
Seth and Thomas.

Rodney had wine, some cheeses and fruit set out.  After a glass or two of
wine, Walt relaxed and talked freely. We are a friendly group, and he was
comfortable. He took furtive glances at our genitals at first, but soon was
comfortable looking at our privates.

"Professor, your friends are handsome," he commented.

"None of us are like the dandies you see in the illustrated magazines,"
Williams replied. "I must admit I admire the male body, and seeing men nude
does nothing to diminish my admiration. From our earliest years, we hide it
in clothes and are taught to feel shame when we expose it.  I hope you
aren't embarrassed at our exposed genitals?"

"I would be lying if it said it wasn't a shock to see so many naked men
unashamed of their nudity," he replied. "It is a pleasant shock."

"Like most men I hide my feelings," Seth said. "Long ago I discovered my
man parts have feelings too, and they aren't shy about showing their
interest. When you are naked, it's like playing cards with a mirror behind
your back. They can see all your cards."

"How do you solve that problem?" Walt asked.  He was clearly looked at
Seth's privates. In the lamplight of the room, you could see the skin had
retraced a little and a bead of Seth's ball juiced glistened in his slit.

"I worried about that when I first met the Professor and Wistar I thought
they would be shocked and think me a pervert of some sort. I don't know
what their minds thought, but their privates like the show, and rose to
meet the occasion!"

Walt laughed. "Well put!" He looked down and saw his own cock react.
"Apparently my cock has its own mind too."

"You could say one of the objectives of our little group is to close the
gap between our cock's enthusiasm and our brains reluctance," Professor
Williams said. "The cock is untamed and natural.  Our brains are affected
by centuries of misplaced or misunderstood morality."

As the professor talked, I slipped to the floor and gently took the great
poet's cock in my mouth.  He shivered and then moaned in pleasure.