Date: Sun, 3 Mar 2002 08:51:01 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Wilson's Hollow 3

Wilson's Hollow 3

By Bald Hairy Man

This is a sexual fantasy with no effort made at real life experiences. If
you object to gay fiction, DO NOT READ. This story is not for you. If you
have any comments  send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymen@aol.com.


Willburt came over to us just before the match started.

"Wish me luck, Daddy." He reached down, felt his Daddy's cock and retrieved
a finger covered in cock ooze. Willburt licked it and went back to his
partner. Johnny laughed.  The match was soon under way and there was a lot
of hooting and hollering. It was like a real wrestling match, but with all
of the guys trying to get their cocks rubbing against the other wrestler.

"He's never lost when paired with the Coach. He hasn't figured it out yet."
Johnny said. "He ain't smart, but he turned out to be a nice boy."

"He's really hung." I said.

"Willburt doesn't have a lot going for him except his cock." Johnny
whispered to me. "That's what is good about these get togethers. He's a
star here. Everyone loves a big piece of meat and he has it.  The first
time he came here, he loved it and he's loved it ever since." The wrestlers
were all erect now and the match became openly sexual.

Someone rang a bell and the round was over. Buster and Willburt came over
to talk with us. The gold necklace was gone, so I couldn't tell which twin
was which. Joey joined us.

"You boys are doing well." Joey said. "It's a lot more like a regular match
this time."

"The Coach's never taken Willburt's meat before. I think he may be having
second thoughts." Buster said. Willburt was fully hard now and he was
impressive.

"I'd be surprised if that was a problem." Johnny said. "The coach is an
accommodating kind of man."

"Shit! Everyone here is accommodating." Buster said. "I can't say anyone
has said no to anything, ever. Everyone is agreeable."

"It's all in the family," Johnny said, "what's not to like?"  In town,
everyone said Wilson's Hollow was in another world and it seemed to me they
were right. They had been so isolated, they lived by their own rules and
didn't know anyone else had any others. 90% of the people in the valley
were kin, so it was sex with the family, or no sex at all.

As the son of the Presbyterian Minister no sex at all would have seemed to
be a reasonable approach.  No sex was an option no one in the Hollow seemed
to consider.  It just didn't occur to them.  Sex with men was preferable to
women because men couldn't get pregnant. I looked around the room as saw
the results of screwing sisters and cousins.  There were no brain surgeons
in the Hollow. Ronnie, my friend, was smart enough, but I had helped him
with enough homework to know that book learning was a problem.

It was easy to see the Wilson's as an exotic ethnic group and the party as
a strange ritual, like those things you see photographs of in the National
Geographic. No one in the room was forced to be there. I was thinking of
how much Willburt liked it. I smiled to myself. The Wilsons were strange,
but I liked it too. I didn't have a clue as to what real sex was until that
night and what I had sampled already made me a convert.

The events of the night didn't shock me.  They seemed interesting, odd, but
enjoyable. If Wilson's Hollow was a world filled with easygoing sex, my
home was the polar opposite. There was no sex. My parents weren't exactly
prudish, it was just that sex was never mentioned, or alluded to. It didn't
exist as far as I knew.

I later realized I had few hang ups about sex because I knew so little
about it. Dad had never discussed it with me. I was a good boy who was
never bad. My parents had no fears I would go wild and get a girl
pregnant. I don't think they ever would have guessed about Ronnie and
me. My only worry as a kid was about being naked. Fortunately, I had been
on the track team so I had discovered it was all right to be naked in a
bunch of boys or men. That little bit of knowledge served me well in
Wilson's Hollow.

Several years later in college, I realized the Wilson's sex parties were a
combination coming of age ritual and male bonding ceremonys. Once you had
participated, you were a man. All men were equal. Older men were seen as
elders, or clan chiefs, but they had the same interest in cock as the
younger guys.

The wrestling match was finishing up. To no one's surprise, Coach
lost. Apparently, the fucking was a festive affair and everyone was to
gather around. Buck and Buster paired off and in a second, Buster was deep
in his bother's ass. I didn't know anything about fucking, but I knew that
the twins had spent a lot of time fucking before this night.

The main attraction was Willburt fucking Coach. Willburt motioned to Ronnie
and me to get close. We were new and he wanted us to have a front row seat.
That was fine with me. I wanted to see what was going on.

Coach Allen was average height, solid and muscular. He had a crew cut and
his brown body hair was even. I later discover this was because he had been
shaved and it was growing out. His cock was not as big as many of the
Wilsons, but nice.  He was cut and had a mushroom head. Willburt told
Ronnie and me to hold Coach's legs wide open. Coach wasn't hard, but
Willburt was hard enough for both of them.

Johnny greased up Willburt's cock and aimed it at Coach's ass. Willburt
poked it in a few inches.  Coach winced and his cock turned hard.  It was
as if a balloon was inflated. Willburt pulled out and shoved it back in
maybe four or five inches. Willburt had a lot of skin, but on the third of
fourth penetration the head was fully exposed.

Coach was oozing a stream of cock juice. He had stopped wincing and had
started moaning. Willburt's dong was still only halfway in the quivering
ass. He looked at me, winked and shoved it in to the hilt. Everyone hooted
and applauded. I would have thought Coach would have been embarrassed at
being fucked in a crowd, but he was moaning in pleasure. I don't think he
noticed the audience.

Willburt was enjoying himself too. "Look at my cock, boys." he said. "Watch
the whole fucker slide into his shit hole.  He's got a nice, tight ass and
he's trying to catch my cock head as it rams him. It's too slippery for him
to hold, but it's lots of fun." He pulled out and popped his bloated cock
head in the hole a few times. "This feels great," Willburt explained. "but
not as good as this!" he rammed it all the way in. Coach moaned again.

Ronnie and I were hard and dripping as we held Coach's legs and watched the
cock relentlessly pound his ass. Willburt suddenly stopped.

"Would you like to try Coach's ass on for size?" he asked. I was unsure
about that.  Johnny realized we weren't sure about fucking.

"Go ahead." he said. "Believe me when I tell you, nothing ever bothers
Coach as long as he has a cock in his hole." That was enough for Ronnie.
Willburt pulled out and Ronnie slipped in.  My friends cock vanished into
the ass and Ronnie began to pump. I looked at Ronnie's face and knew he was
loving it. He tensed up and shot off after only a few strokes.

"Your turn!" Willburt said to me. The idea of shoving my cock into the shit
hole, as Willburt called it, wasn't very attractive to me. Everyone was
watching and expecting me to do it, so I did. I wasn't greased up like
Willburt and Ronnie, but no one was offering to do it, so I positioned my
cock at Coach's ass and pushed.  Next thing I knew, my pubic hair was
touching his ass. Coach was wide open and his hot rectum enveloped my cock.

I started to shiver it felt so good. I had visualized shoving my cock
through shit. Instead, it was a tender, quivering, tube.  It tightly
grasped my cock. The Coach was known as a hard ass man, but nothing about
his ass was hard at all.  I have since come to know your ass is defenseless
once the cock head breaks past the sphincter. Coach made no effort to stop
me.

Guys in the locker room at school talked about `getting fucked' as if it
was painful, degrading and humiliating. That was nothing like me and
Coach. He was willingly letting my penis into his body. My most private
part was touching his most private parts.

I was turned on, but I found a slow pace of thrusting that left me near
shooting, but not quite getting there. It was great. Most of the audience
went back to their own partners, so I was alone with Coach Allen, Willburt
and Dave Anders, the State Trooper.

"You found the grove, Kid." the Trooper said.

"What?" I said like an idiot.

"It's hard to fuck without shooting your load." he explained. "Once in a
while, you find exactly the right pace to keep it going for a long
time. You've found it. It's beautiful when it happens."

"I hope he doesn't get tired of me." I said.  Dave smiled. He was blond and
crew cut like the coach, but he was going bald. I think he had more hair in
his trimmed, but bushy mustache than on his head.  Dave had a cut cock and
beautiful balls, dangling from his golden bush.  I though he was smooth
when I first saw him, but the whitish, blond body hair was hard to see in
the dim light.

"I wouldn't worry about that much. Coach is a big boy.  He can take a lot
of fucking and still come back for more." the trooper said. "Have you been
fucked yet?"

"Nope." I said.  His eyes met mine.

"You're not sure about getting fucked, are you?" he asked.

"Don't rush anything, You've got lots of time, no need to rush things."
Dave said. He got close to me and whispered.  "If you want your cherry
popped by a real nice, gentle guy, think about me. I kind of like being the
first. It's a real turn on for me. The guys I've screwed all decided to be
bottoms. They know how good it can be."

"Does it hurt?"

"It does some," he continued. "but believe me when I tell you, you won't
mind when I'm done. A Trooper friend of mine helps out. He says we should
write a book on it, we're so good."  I wasn't sure about Dave's offer, but
I began to shoot. It wasn't an explosive orgasm. It too was slow and lasted
a long time. Coach knew I was cumming and squeezed his ass in rhythm with
my ejaculations.

I pulled out of Coach's ass and Dave took my place.

"When was the last time you had this much young cum in your ass, Coach?" he
asked.

"The tournament in Blackburg?" Allen asked. Dave laughed.

"Tournaments have always been good." the Trooper said. "Nothing will ever
equal the one in Charlottesville. You made a lot of guys happy at that
one!" Willburt was standing next to me.

"Dave's a good guy. You'll like it." he said. "He's done Buster and
Buck. They loved it. Shit, they still love it!"

It was getting late and Ronnie and Frank motioned to me they were
leaving. Everyone had shot off a few times and the night was coming to a
close. Several guys were dozing, others were quietly sucking, or slow
pumping. I got dressed and said goodbye. We got in the car and drove away.

"How often do you get together Mr. Wilson?" I asked.

"Are you ready to do it again?" he asked.

"You know Daddy," Ronnie said, "I thought that was enough sex for a life
time when we left. Now we're a mile away, I'm ready to do it again,
tomorrow, or sooner, if possible."

"I guess I feel the same way." I added. We all laughed.  When we got home,
I was ready to practice some of the new skills I had learned, but fell
asleep the minute my head hit the pillow. I woke with the smell of bacon
frying. Ronnie woke at the same time. I wanted sex, but was so hungry we
both went to the kitchen and ate a good breakfast. Breakfast was definitely
Mr. Wilson's specialty.

It was Sunday, so Mr. Wilson took me to church. Everyone there was worried
about Mom and Mr. Brown who had the stroke.  Mrs. Brown had a heart
condition, so the church was consumed with helping them.  Dad and Mom were
in Richmond and the Browns were in the local hospital and needed as much
help as they could get.  Everyone was too up tight to talk about breast
cancer, so I told them I was doing fine and that satisfied everyone.

The substitute minister was a retired man, who preached on sin and the
evils of the modern world.  My father never liked the man and I realized
how bad things were when the church was reduced to using him even as a
substitute. He was one of those guys who spouted numbers, such as John 15,
verse 12, but never told you what they said. "John 15, verse 12 is further
amplified by Matthew 2, verse 18 and then fully explained by Numbers 34,
verse 1." he would say. Rev. Billings drove me crazy.

Mr.Wilson and Ronnie picked me up afterward and we went to my house to make
sure everything was all right. I found some food in the refrigerator we
need to eat, or it would go bad, so we took it to Wilson's Hollow. This
included a chicken, ham and a roast. We also stopped at the KFC and got
some friend chicken for lunch. I paid for it, with some of the money my
parents left for me.

We stopped by Johnny's house and I called my Dad. He was there, back from
the hospital and said Mom was doing as well as could be expected. I didn't
like the sound of that, but he didn't elaborate. I told him of the church
service and the Brown's condition. He laughed at my description of
Rev. Billings' sermon. He said, Mrs. Brown was prone to fall apart
emotionally and they needed to help her.

He said, he had more offers of hospitality than he could accept. He went to
seminary in Richmond and knew lots of people there.  He was worried about
me, but I said I was fine. It was a good place for me to be. Mr. Wilson and
his relatives were as nice as they could be.

We got back to the Wilson's house by 1:30, ate the chicken and had a lazy
afternoon. It was hot, so we went to a swimming hole and swam. When I got
home, I offered to cook dinner. I had never cooked before, but I had
watched Mom and I figured no one could be worse than Frank. I cooked the
ham and made baked potatoes. They had fresh beans from the garden.  It was
really simple, but was a hit with Ronnie and his dad.

Frank and Ronnie wore as few clothes as possible in the summer. Washing
clothes was a chore.  The metal roof on the house made it oven-like in the
day time. This was hard for me to get used to, since my parents were fully
dressed all the time. Wilson women tended to stay inside and would dresses
with no bras. They seemed to stick to themselves, at least in this part of
the Hollow.

The men favored cutoff jeans, worn with no shirt and as much pubic hair
showing as they could manage. Joey, Johnny and Frank's part of the clan
didn't seem to wear briefs and they liked a nice worn area clearly
outlining their cocks and balls. Frank went naked until after breakfast and
wore boxers around the house. He had the old fashioned button up type with
most of the buttons gone.

I got used to seeing his cock all the time. I was uncomfortable wearing the
full Wilson regalia, so I compromised by wearing Bermuda's with no
underwear.

We were sitting on the porch one evening a few days later, when a large
Cadillac with Tennessee plates drove in. It wasn't new, but it was
beautifully maintained and had just been washed. It sparkled.

"Damn! If it isn't Jesse!" Frank exclaimed. He rushed to greet the
man. Ronnie told me it was another Uncle. Jesse was the oldest of the
brother and had gone to Tennessee and made a lot of money as a
welder. Three men got out of the car. Jesse was about 65, five feet ten,
260 pounds, with a white beard. The second man was about 45, five ten, 240
with a pepper and salt bear.  The third was 25, five ten, 220, and had a
pitch black beard.

There was no question; they were father, son and grandson, a matching set.

"Bobby, this is my brother, Jesse, his son Jesse Junior and his son Jesse
III." Frank said, confirming the obvious.  They were a bit surprised to see
me there. Frank explained my situation and the three men were
sympathetic. Uncle Jesse had lost his wife to breast cancer two years
earlier.

Ronnie and I were sent off to get some special brew from a small out
building to the rear.  They were deep in conversation when we got
back. They had all stripped off their shirts by this time and I passed the
jug around.

"I can't believe I missed it!" Jesse said. "I made this special trip and
missed it. I thought we always had it on Wednesdays."

"We changed it when Scooter and Charlie got jobs in town. They had trouble
getting here, so we moved it to Saturday." Frank explained. "I'm sure we
can figure something out." As he said that, a State Trooper Patrol cruiser
drove up. Jesse's family looked worried. I knew it was Dave and another man
who didn't look like a Trooper at all. He was dressed in jeans and a plaid
shirt and had a huge main of curly, blondish-red hair, a handlebar mustache
and a red beard. He was short too.

Frank introduced everyone. Dave's friend was Rod, an undercover agent in
Tidewater. Frank knew him, but no one else did. Dave took some of the home
brew and complimented Frank on it. I guessed liquor law enforcement wasn't
on the agenda for today.

"Rod showed up unexpectedly," Dave said. "I made a little proposition to
your son and Bobby on Saturday and I was hoping they were interested. Since
you have company, I can try some other time."  Frank knew exactly what Dave
was talking about. "Rod has to go back tomorrow."

"This may be your lucky day." Frank said. "Jesse and his boys came by for
the party and had the wrong day. We just may be able to work something
out."