Date: Sun, 28 Sep 2008 10:30:47 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Smithy 7

The Smithy 7

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.

John Singer Sargent was an elegant looking man and most distinguished. He
was thin, tall and had a carefully groomed beard. His mannerisms were
slightly effete and elegant too. His chest was dusted with hair and his
genitals were elegant too. They were Greek statue like, although they were
more generously scaled. He had the equipment of a man, not a boy.

Nicola, the model, was shaved smooth except for the bush. He was thin and
his muscles were well defined.  I guessed he was a perfect model. His skin
was olive toned, but he was handsome. His cock was definitely on the large
side of average.

Sir Frederic was a bear of a man. He had an extravagant beard and a fur
covered chest. He was heavy set, but not what you would consider
fat. Obviously he ate well. Frederic's cock was fat and long. His balls
were goat or bull like. I would say he would be a good prototype for Zeus,
mature, but still fertile and manly.

Pierre was a black Hercules.  His musculature was magnificent and
impressive. He too was shaved smooth except for a well groomed patch at his
cock. His heavy balls hung low.  The sack seemed almost transparent, so you
could see each apricot sized testicle in detail.  His cock was perhaps
eight or nine inches long and his knob was large and well defined.

The final member of our group, Cedric, looked dumpy in his coachman's
dress. He wasn't the elegant man in livery, but rather the man who wore
heavy clothes well suited for a man who worked with horses. Naked he was a
good manly specimen. He was quite muscular and well formed. His hair was
the color of burnished copper and was continuous from his well cropped
beard to his toes. It was a thick coat, but since it was red, it didn't
hide the body below. He had creamy skin, with pink nipples and pink cock
head.  When he was erect, there was a lavender tone to the head.

When I look at a man I tend to fantasize a personality that matches the
appearance. With two well known and distinguished artists, two artist
models and a coachman, I had a vision of each man's personality. I was
wrong about all of my suppositions.

I had forgotten that social status and station vanish when one is
naked. Older and more ancient signs of status become dominant. Sargent and
Leighton became our equals and the lone black man with his huge organ
became the master.  That was the fantasy, but not the reality. The black
man, Pierre, was an artist from Senegal who head been educated in Paris. He
spoke French beautifully and English well.

I later found out Pierre loved Sargent and he wanted to maintain his
"connection intimate" with his lover. In his thinking, once he was lodged
in the artist's ass, they formed single sexual unit. Pierre got excited as
Sargent sucked me. He shared the experience.

Nicola had no such complicated vision. His cock was well shaped and it slid
into my ass effortlessly. At first it was just mildly pleasurable, but as
he slowly massaged my rectum, the pleasure built.

We were all in an ungainly position. After a minute or two, we broke apart
and reformed ourselves to a large ottoman or divan on the side of the room.

"Robert, I'd like to tell you my interest," Sargent said as we
relocated. "I love passion and my objective is to postpone the orgasmic
moment as long as possible. I love to teeter on the edge of the climax. My
hope is to turn those exquisite moments of sexual ecstasy into minutes and
even hours.

"It seems to me that is much like playing with a pistol that is cocked and
ready," I said.

Sargent smiled. "I didn't say I always achieve my objective. Sometimes you
miscalculate, sometimes one gets carried away," he said. "At one time I
loved multiple orgasms, but my age has betrayed me. You are young, I assume
you have no problem climaxing several times."

"That has happened," I said.

He smiled. We sat on the pillow covered divan. I got on the bed and sucked
Sargent's member as he sucked mine. Pierre walked up to us, raised
Sargent's leg and pushed his shiny black knob into the quivering ass. It
was easy and almost casual as if sexual penetration was an every day
event. I saw Sargent's ass quiver a moment in anticipation of the entry. As
the cock pushed deeper into the artist's ass, Sargent rewarded me with a
burst of precum.

Pierre's cock was well oiled and it had the aspect of a steel or iron
rod. It looked so hard I thought it might hurt.  The artist's oozing cock
told me that was foolishness. I could easily take all of Sargent's member
into my mouth.  This meant I was only three inches from Pierre's cock. As I
watched the huge member slowly pump, I found myself getting even more
excited. Pierre would pull all the way out and then toy with the eager
hole. As he did this, I sensed Sargent getting tense, waiting for the
pleasure of the next entry.

Once Pierre stroked his cock and coaxed a blob of his cock juices out of
the wide slit.  I stuck out my tongue and tasted it. Another time he picked
up the pace. He pulled out and shot a single ribbon of man seed into my
mouth. I immediately returned to sucking Sargent's cock and bathed it in
Pierre's seed. I thought he would shoot the remainder into the artist's
hole, but he save it for later.

Pierre was one of those rare men who had total control of his
ejaculations. He had the will power to hold back and stop an orgasm, and
then unload it later. Usually that was in Sargent's mouth or ass.

I assumed Nicola would return to my hole, but Cecil had taken his place.
Over the next half hour, Cecil, Nicola and Frederic took their turns at my
ass. They weren't at all interested in Sargent's delayed orgasm
scheme. This was good, since they seemed to have graded their cocks by
size.  The man with the smallest cock fucked me first, followed by the man
with a bigger cock. Each man shot his cream into me.  The mixture of
Cecil's Anglo Saxon cream with Nicola's Italian seed was just right to ease
the entrance of Frederic's more challenging organ.

Sir Frederic's cock hurt some at first.  I got use to it ans soon I felt it
was worth it.  Frederic was very much a fucker not a lover. Fortunately he
had a good sense of what I and my ass could take. It would be safe to say
he was always one step ahead of me. It wasn't as pleasant as Cecil or
Nicola, but it was more purely sexual. While it was good for me; it was
better for Sargent. He loved watching Frederic pounding me like a crazed
madman. From his vantage point sucking my member, he see it and taste my
reaction. His hold back the orgasm scheme collapsed when he flooded my
mouth with his man seed.

Frederic's orgasm followed as he watched his friend fill my mouth. This may
seem odd. But I felt intense pleasure as the seed receptacle for these two
gifted men. I though how wonderful it would have been to live in Italy
during th Renaissance. I would have been perfectly happy to drain
Michaelangelo's manly seed.

When Sargent got off the divan, Cecil replaced him. He cock was shorter but
tasty. After Sargent's salty seed, Cecil produced rich and sweet cock
honey. I was enjoying this elixir when a large object poked at my ass.  It
was Pierre.

A half hour earlier when I entered the studio, I would never have
considered taking the huge organ. What a difference a half hour can
make. If Sir Frederic had been a somewhat crude fucking machine, Pierre was
an artist well skilled in the anal arts. Given the size of his member, he
was both considerate and delicate.

Cecil, Nicola and Frederic had already deposited their cream in my rear. My
ass was was certainly well prepared. It would be crude to say Pierre fucked
me. He politely knocked at the door. I opened it and let him in. It was odd
in that while he was both polite and almost gentile, he was also
relentless.  Every time I could focus, the huge object was deeper in my
ass. As with Frederic, he played with my hole and sphincter. Only when the
sphincter lost any ability to resist did he push deeper. By that time I
disparately wanted it.

I was both excited and relaxed. I hadn't believed that combination was
possible. I knew full penetration was inevitable, but every advancement of
the black rod filled me with indescribably intense pleasure.

Cecil wasn't sucking on my cock, he was just licking up what drooled from
my organ.  I was like a baby sucking at his mother's breast.  Cecil's cock
honey flowed continuously. Whenever the flow seemed to abate, I would try
to suction more from his balls. His balls were well shaped, but I marveled
they could be so productive.

At some point I seemed to have lost myself.  I became a sexual appendage to
Cecil and Pierre. I was feeling only pleasure and giving only
pleasure. Even today, I pity the person who hasn't experienced the feeling
of total sexual involvement.

Pierre lost control and he flooded me with his seed. I could feel him
squirting in my ass. I shot off and Cecil was nice enough to lick it all
up. We broke apart and rested on the divan. I could hardly move, I was so
exhausted.

I was surprised when Sargent came over to me and fingered my well stretched
hole. He got on his knees, lifted my legs and licked the tender
opening. Frederic came over and fed me is cock. It was soft now but still a
mouthful. I got my tongue into the foreskin and licked the underside of the
glans. He shivered a little when I did this, so I continued.

"Mr. Fairbairn, you are a marvel,"he said. "I don't recall another novice
who has taken to our merry band as well as you. You are a master of the
erotic arts." He played with my nipples, but got no reaction. "One of my
more clever friends claimed I had a brain in my cock. He thought I was a
libertine and exhausted my talents in sexual experimentation. I have come
to believe he was right. Not about the wasted talents mind you, but about
the brain. In some ways that little brain in the cock takes us back to our
origins."

"In my own case, Sir Frederic, I'm afraid the brain in my cock may well be
bigger than that in my head," Cecil interjected.  There was general
laughter.

"Without that little brain we might become mere logical machines," Sir
Frederic continued. "In this modern age we are so tempted to let logic and
science take charge of our lives. I agree and indeed admire science, but
the most impressive scientist can easily fall to the demands of the
cock. Logic flies out the window when sex rears its attractive head."

"I do not believe the cock has a brain," Pierre stated in his strong French
accent. "I believe it is the great sensory organ. The intensity of feeling
in a cock dwarfs the eye, nose, tongue or ears in it's power. Mr. Fairbairn
is an handsome man, if not a beautiful one. It was only when he opened his
body to me and let me probe his deepest recess that I realized he may well
be a great man. I felt that in my cock, not with my eyes or ears."

We chatted between fondling, or sucking cocks. Everyone was partially, or
fully erect. I think anyone listening to the conversation would think this
was just a risqué talk between academics. It was hard to believe the
atmosphere was so relaxed and casual, while the sexual activity was so
intense.

Unfortunately I was expected to be at dinner with several friends, so I had
to leave at five. Cecil took me to my hotel. He told me I had been a great
success with the men, and with him personally. "It's unusual for Pierre to
screw any one but John," Cecil said. "I thought his seed was for John's use
only.  You must have inspired him."

"I'll take that as compliment," I said.

"Mr. Sargent has many acquaintances, but many aren't willing to sport with
a man in my station,"Cecil continued. "Sure, they'll fuck me, but I love
the warmth of a man's backside."

I smiled. "I surely enjoyed your visit," I said.

"If we meet again, I'd love to sample you cream," he said.  We were at my
hotel so we parted.  One would think that having been in a wild sexual orgy
and being fucked by several men, might leave a mark on you, but no one in
the lobby noticed a thing.  I bathed, dressed and when to the Explorer's
Club where several of my Professors and friends had a most elaborate dinner
arranged.

These were not my older personal friends, such as Tristan and Ovid, but
were more correctively colleagues in my Scientific studies. I must confess
my attraction to Tristan and Ovid had greatly diminished.

I had break between sessions, and was on my own. My life was taking a turn
toward the academic and scientific. They were preparing to be gentlemen of
leisure.  My Father had taken a steamer for New York where he was planning
to build a factory. He suggested that I travel.

While my plan was to visit Paris and then Rome, I began the trip with a
short jaunt to visit Ralph. I sent him a letter saying I would be passing
through.  He replied by asking me to stay with him. He did note he would
have some visitors on Sunday, but he thought I would like them.

I got to his cottage on Wednesday. He was hard at work, so I took a
pleasant walk around the countryside.  The weather was unusually beautiful
and I enjoyed myself immensely. I returned to the cottage in time to watch
him wash up, naked in the yard.  When I first saw him I had been a virgin,
now I was experienced. I wondered if the excitement I had felt earlier
would vanish.  It didn't. If anything, I was more excited.

We had a simple dinner and sat down to checkers. As before, Ralph beat me
regularly although I did manage to eek out two wins.  I told him about my
trip to London and my paper. He seemed excited for me.  While I had been
uneasy when he beat me at checkers when we first met, I realized he had
genuine pleasure at my success.

I had dreamed of meeting Ralph again and returning to the bed where I had
first coupled with him.  I was shocked when Ralph told me he had the same
dream.

"I dreamed we were stranded on an island as in Robinson Caruso. We were
starving and the only food was your seed. I would suck the seed from your
balls and then you'd beg me to do it again. Some how your cream got thicker
and more plentiful as I sucked you over and over again," he said.

"Did I get nothing to eat?" I asked.

He smiled.  "Indeed you did, but you insisted I deliver my ball juices into
your arse. You said there was less loss to evaporation that way. I though
that might not be true, but you're a learned gentleman and you must have
known."

"I can see myself saying that just to feel you member in my ass," I
said. "Did your dream have a happy ending?"

"It didn't end.  It just continued like a perpetual motion machine,"he
explained. "I'd suck up your seed then shoot the same amount into you. It
was a bit like the loaves and fishes, or perhaps manna from heaven."

"What do you mean?"

"At first you shot a normal load, but then it double and tripled. My mouth
was filled and I had to swallow," he explained.

I laughed. "If that was the manna in Exodus, I think the Israelites would
have had a happy forty years in the wilderness!"

It was late and we went to bed to see if we could recreate Ralph's
dream. We only got to recreate half of his dream. Once he was in my ass I
was loath to let him go. Ralph did his part and fucked me all night long.

I awoke with an understanding of why primitive peoples thought sexual
experienced were mystical experiences.  Compared to the run of the mill of
daily experiences and events, sex was of an entirely different level.

I had been afraid my first coupling with Ralph was a one time only event.
Perhaps the series of sexual encounters since that meeting would make that
first time seem more ordinary and and pedestrian. In reality, I felt the
opposite. My enjoyment of Ralph's person and his cock was enhanced. The
shock of his first penetration was past.  Now I could savor the connection.
His cock head would toy with my sphincter until I was desperate for that
moment when he popped through the sphincter's barrier and slip deep into my
body.

Ralph knew when he hit my prostate. He would linger there and massage the
tender gland with his cock head. I learned how to undulate my hips to give
him more pleasure. Now I could sense his tension increase as he approached
the orgasmic moment. He was the most gentle of lovers until that moment. A
second or two before he climaxed he would all but pull out of me and ram me
hard. All was well with the world.