Mr. Arl Plays Rough

I was 19 years old when I returned home from college in the summer of 1976. A lot about me had changed in the nine months I had been away, both physically and emotionally.

Leaving home the previous August a pudgy kid who had spent his teenage years unsuccessfully chasing girls, I was now a fairly well built young man who had discovered a new world when seduced by an older man, and had enjoyed several other relationships with men during that freshman year at college.

Now I was back home, where finances were to force me to stay for the rest of my education, and eager to continue to explore my new found desires.

*****

Chapter 1. Realizing what I liked.

When I opened the door of the bar and walked in, it felt like every eye in the place was on me. Part of this was my own paranoia, walking into a gay bar for the first time in my life. Another part of it was real, because I was getting looked over by a good percentage of the crowd.

I was fresh meat, I suppose. I also didn't look bad either. Nervously I looked around and hurried to the far corner of the bar, where there was an open stool. I ordered a beer, and already had my ID out when the bartender asked for it, giving it and me a careful look before serving me.

That I was used to, having a young looking face. My having transformed my body from the pudgy 18 year old I had been when I left my hometown this time last year, to the fairly well built 19 year old I had become, made me seem more my age.

In the dimly lit bar here, I was definitely one of the younger patrons, and the first couple of guys that came up to me were my age or slightly older. I was polite but distant, and not only because I was nervous.

My first experience with another man had been with somebody much older, and there were parts about that time that excited me a great deal. There was something about being with an older man that I wanted to experience again.

Tentatively, I looked in the mirror and the people in the crowded establishment. As I did, my eyes locked in on someone who was engaged in a conversation, but had been staring at me all along.

My first instinct was panic, as I realized who it was behind me. Being seen in a gay bar by someone I knew was a shock, and the feeling only lessened when I realized that, after all, he was there too.

It was WHO it was, that was the greatest shock of all. Never in a million years would I have imagined seeing this man in the place. Perhaps it wasn't who I thought it was, I thought to myself. Possibly just someone who looked like that person I was thinking of. After all, it had been years since I had seen him.

All doubt was gone as I watched the man excuse himself from the conversation he had been in. The familiar gait as he walked was the giveaway; slow and simian-like, it had been one of the reasons he had been 'blessed' with his nickname, along with his incredible physique.

I felt the beefy hand on my shoulder a second before I heard that deep bass voice resounding in my ears, removing all doubt from my mind who it was. The Apeman.

Chapter 2. The Apeman.

Paul Karl was his real name. Mr. Karl was what we had used in his class, out of respect and fear. He was the wrestling coach and an assistant coach of the football team at our school after the school day ended, and a gym teacher the rest of the time.

A more imposing figure you could not imagine, especially considering that he was only about 5'8", a good couple of inches shorter than myself. It was his body that got him all the respect and fear. He didn't have a bit of fat anywhere on his outrageously well developed body, and from the inhumanly thick neck down he was chiseled like a statue. Mr. Karl's arms hung down low, and his slightly bowed legs gave him an ape-like look when he walked, but I never knew of anybody who ever had the guts to call him by his nickname.

"Timmy, is that you?" Mr. Karl asked as that hand clamped down on my shoulder, swiveling me around on my stool to face him whether I had planned to or not.

"Mr. Karl!" I answered, and my hand disappeared inside of his.

"Well, I could ask what a boy like you is doing in a place like this," Mr. Karl bellowed over the jukebox.

"I guess I could ask you the same thing," I said timidly as Mr. Karl slid into the space next to me.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" he asked, and I agreed that it had been about five years since my traumatic experiences in his class.

In retrospect, it had not been that bad for me, especially compared to some of the less athletic kids in the class, who suffered the brunt of his abuse. I was average enough at sports to get by, and so that part of the class wasn't so bad. It was at the end of the class that things turned horrible for me.

Chapter 3. The showers.

For some reason, the school was gung ho about kids taking showers after gym class. I thought it was absurd, because after you got changed into your gym clothes and got to the field or gym, there was little time left to work up a sweat.

How I dreaded walking that walk into the shower room, which was so bright and completely wide open. Everybody could see everybody else, and there was nowhere to hide. Mr. Karl would be there at the outside of the drying area, checking off names as we went in.

I remember the first time I was stuck taking a shower with the rest of my classmates. Being so young and ignorant, I assumed that I was like all the other boys. As I casually glanced around me, I noticed that was not the case. There was certainly a difference.

All my classmates were walking around naked and unashamed, their cocks swinging around wildly, and me there staring in awe. Some guys had bigger ones than I did. Other guys had much bigger ones than I did. Then there was me, and maybe one other kid hiding as best we could.

Shame, envy, anger - every emotion you could think of ran through me. Ever since that day, I had done my best to avoid exposing myself in situations like that, even getting a medical waiver to skip gym one year. Anything to get out of that public humiliation. It was only now that I had come to grips with my situation. I had a small penis, and would have to play the hand I was dealt.

Chapter 4. Conversation.

Mr. Karl asked me what I was up to, and I explained to him that I had just finished by freshman year of college out in Colorado, but was going to continue my education around here because of the financial situation.

"Wow, going to be a sophomore?" Mr. Karl exclaimed. "Time sure flies. What are you, 20?"

"Nineteen," I corrected him.

"You look much younger," Mr. Karl added. "You have filled out quite a bit though. Lifting weights?"

"A little," I said glancing down at the hand that had dropped down onto my forearm. The meaty paw with the thick, stubby fingers squeezed my arm, and as my eyes traveled upward to the arm that was incredibly hairy, richly veined and bulging with muscles, I felt a surge go through my entire body.

The idea that I was well built was amusing, I thought to myself, especially when I looked at Mr. Karl, who had to be close to sixty by now. He was wearing a form fitting shirt that showcased every ripple of his muscular body, and the flaming red hair that sprouted from the neck of his shirt was speckled with grey.

Mr. Karl's head was shaved smooth, and I recalled that he had been going bald even back when I was in his class. The shiny dome made him look even more imposing, and revealed more of his ears, which were a little flattened and damaged around the edges. A momento of his collegiate wrestling days, no doubt, and only served to make him more intimidating to me.

"So, would you like to go to my place and talk some more?" Mr. Karl asked me, and as he spoke the hand that was on my arm dropped down to my thigh, causing me to jerk in response. "Talk about the good old days maybe?"

Mr. Karl's hand slowly worked his way up my thigh, kneading and squeezing as it went - searching with his fingers while he watched my face for reaction.

"I didn't know you would even remember me," I said in a trembling voice, his hand now in my lap. "I wasn't on the teams or anything, and I kinda kept to myself and all."

Now Mr. Karl's hand had finally found what he was looking for, and I felt him squeeze my stiff dick through the pants fabric. Oh well, I thought. I only hoped he didn't laugh out loud, and I looked over to him the minute his hand found my dick.

"Oh, I remember you Timmy," Mr. Karl said, and although his face registered a little shock at first, the look on his face after that was not one of amusement, or anything close to it. "I remember you very well. I recall something about you that always stuck in my mind."

Mr. Karl was rubbing and pulling on my little stem almost as if he was trying to make me come, and I looked at my reflection in the mirror behind the bar, the shock on my face clearly evident as Mr. Karl's hand worked underneath the bar.

"You like what I'm doing to your cock, Timmy?" Mr. Karl asked me while leaning over toward me, and I nodded as my trembling hand reached out for my beer, my throat suddenly dry as a bone. After a sip I set the beer down and brought my hand down to his forearm, which was attached to the hand that was milking my dick. My fingers slid up and down the rock-hard forearm, the crinkly hair feeling so exciting to me. It was almost like Popeye was jerking me off, and if he didn't stop soon I was going to cum, and that's what I whispered to him.

His response was to squeeze and pull at me harder, and my dick finally erupted in my pants while I tried to not let on that I was having an orgasm at the bar. Finally Mr. Karl stopped his manipulations and brought his hand down to my thigh.

"Did you like that Timmy?" he said calmly while my shaky hand went back to my beer bottle. "Did you cum good?"

"Yes," I squeaked, smelling the unmistakable aroma of semen drifting up from my lap, which had to have a massive stain on it.

"I'll bet you've got a couple more loads left in you, and I know a couple of places I want to put them," my old gym teacher said calmly. "Finish your beer and let's get out of here."

I did as I was told and walked out of the bar behind Mr. Karl, trying to hide what proved to be a pretty large wet spot covering my crotch. It was easy to hide behind him, I noted, watching the impossibly broad back, rippled shoulders and narrow waist clear the path for me as we navigated our way out of the bar.

Chapter 5. Mr. Karl's apartment.

I don't know what I was expecting, but Mr. Karl's apartment was very modest in appearance. I was not there to be a judge of interior decorating, however, and my heart was beating so fast that my head was spinning. I was led to the bedroom, and after I walked in behind him, he moved me against the wall, his hands yanking out my shirt from inside my pants and tugging it over my head.

Mr. Karl let out a groan as his hands ran over my hairless chest, pinching my nipples before nibbling them a little, his knee that rode between my legs almost lifting me in the air. I felt my belt coming undone and then my pants followed, falling quickly down to my ankles, leaving me in my messy underwear.

Not for long though, as Mr. Karl was yanking them down as well, kneeling before me as he helped get the collection of clothes off my feet. I looked down at my little stem, erect again and twitching, and watched it disappear in Mr. Karl's meaty fist.

He yanked my dick upward and leaned forward, taking my balls in his mouth, capturing the pair of cherry tomato-sized nuts with one swoop, and my knees buckled as I felt my sack being sucked savagely by my old gym teacher. His fist yanked hard on my dick, jerking it briskly while my balls were subject to the most incredible churning imaginable. It felt so good, despite the fact that it was so much rougher than I had ever experienced before.

Mr. Karl let up on me just as I felt I was going to cum, and ran his hand all over my hairless crotch. He seemed to enjoy the absence of pubic hair, a feature I had taken to removing because of how little I had actually been blessed with. The tiny tuft above my dick and the modest little wisps of hair under my arms were less embarrassing being absent than being there, and I had discovered that guys seemed to like it that way.

"Damn, you're so smooth!" Mr Karl muttered as he got up from his knees. His hands rubbed over my chest and then, lifting my arm, buried his head under my arm, licking and biting all around my hairless armpits while his other hand squeezed my dick.

I had one hand free, and so I tried to pull off Mr. Karl's shirt, but it was so tight on him that I could barely budge it. He let go of my other hand so I could get a better grip, and I worked the shirt off of him.

Mr. Karl naked from the waist up was even more intimidating than before, and my hands very tentatively reached out for his massive pectorals, the coarse reddish grey mat of hair sending a shiver through my entire body.

I found his nipple through the rich mat of hair and bent down to take it in my mouth, and Mr. Karl groaned as he reached up and pulled my head tighter to him. My teeth nibbled the bud before his hand brought my head over to his armpit, grinding my face into the thick tuft of hair which I kissed and licked happily, while my hand slid down his rippled stomach and down the front of his pants.

I felt his hardness almost right away, and slid my hand down the bulge. And slid. And slid some more. My hand was halfway down his leg when I looked up to him in shock. Mr. Karl was smiling at me and my reaction; one that I was sure he had to have gotten many times before. Shock. Awe. Lust.

"You like what you found Timmy?" Mr. Karl said hoarsely, and I nodded with a gulp while my hand kept probing the bulge that didn't seem to have an end. "You like my cock, son?"

Mr. Karl moved me backward over to the bed, and I fell onto it when the backs of my legs hit the edge of the mattress. I watched as Mr. Karl pulled his watch off and set it down on his dresser before turning around to face me, slowly unbuckling his belt while he looked down at me.

"Play with yourself," Mr. Karl said, and when I looked confused he repeated himself. "Play with your cock for me. Your balls too."

Obiediently my hands went between my legs, grabbing my twig with one hand and my berries with the other as I sat on the edge of the bed under Mr. Karl's watchful eye.

With a painful slowness his belt came undone, and he pulled it out of his slacks deliberately before unbuttonning his trousers. He had been wearing loose fitting tan pleated slacks, and as they came down my eyes took in the lower half of his body.

I could say that I was looking at his bulging thigh muscles, partially hidden under ivory colored cotton briefs that went down almost his knees, and the equally thick muscled calves, but that wouldn't be quite right. I could say I was speechless staring at a man that had to be pushing 60, yet had a body on him that defied logic, but that wouldn't be totally accurate either.

Because my attention was diverted by the bulge that snaked down the inside of the leg of his briefs. My legs were shaking as I kept jerking my dick, never feeling both so inadequate and aroused at the same time before. Mr. Karl had a smirk on his face as he grabbed the elastic of his briefs and slowly tugged them down, realizing that he had my undivided attention, and was putting on a show of sorts.

The burnt orange trail of hair widened as the briefs came down, and then stopped just before the base of his cock came into view. The thickness at the base was inhuman. No man could possibly have such equipment, I thought to myself, thinking that my eyes must be playing tricks on me.

The shaft tapered a bit as more of his cock was revealed, but not by much. A fat meandering vein rippled down the length of his manhood, and I made a choking sound as the briefs kept coming down, causing Mr. Karl to chuckle as he watched me watch his performance. Finally, his cock was fully exposed, and it swayed from side to side as he stepped out of his underwear.

"Like what you see, Timmy?" Mr. Karl said, reaching down and cupping his member and giving the flaccid hose a couple of tugs. "You okay Timmy? You have been with another man before, right?"

I guess I must have looked like I was going to faint or something, so I nodded as my eyes took in all of Mr. Karl. His uncircumsized cock hung between his legs like an elephant's trunk, and even though he was a short man and his thighs were bowed, it was still an impressive sight to see a man whose cock hung down almost to his knees.

His hands almost did too, and the old nickname Apeman was certainly earned, and must have been given him by someone who had seen him naked. Now Mr. Karl was walking toward me, still perched on the edge of the bed with my own dick in hand, and he stopped just in front of me.

"If you've been with a man before," he said as he held his cock up to my face, "then you must have some ideas as to what to do with this."

Chapter 6. Reaching out.

Mr. Karl held the base of his cock with his left hand, while pulling back his foreskin with the other, revealing the pink bell-shaped head of his manhood. I reached out and grabbed the rubbery hose and brought the plum-sized crown to my mouth. It was difficult to hold his cock with just one hand, so I grabbed him with both hands and began sucking on the musky bulb.

What would this thing look like when it got hard, I wondered to myself, as I tried to get more than the head of this monsterous tool in my mouth. My fists worked the shaft, jerking and pulling on it as best I could, and I could feel him start to get aroused as I did.

Mr. Karl grabbed my head and began forcing me farther down his cock, and my jaw was already aching in protest. With a fist full of my hair he brought me down to my knees before him, and took his cock away from me.

"Work my nuts Timmy," Mr. Karl instructed, lifting his cock to reveal his balls, which were a comparatively modest sized pair. I did as I was told, sucking on his eggs alternately, while running my hands up and down his muscular, hairy legs as I gobbled his nuts. I felt him drop his cock on the top of my head, in a sight that must have been comical, and he grabbed my hair and rubbed it around his tool.

Mr. Karl soon held his cock in both of his fists while I sucked on his balls, slowly pumping his cock which seemed to be getting harder with each stroke. I reached my hands around him and grabbed his firm ass tightly, getting a satisfied grunt from him in response to my fingers squeezing in between his ass cheeks and stroking his anus gently.

"That's nice Timmy," Mr. Karl said. "That seems like a good idea. Here."

He helped me up and rolled onto the bed on his back, motioning for me to climb on top of him, straddling his head with my legs and facing his feet. I felt my nuts disappear into Mr. Karl's mouth as I leaned down toward his cock, which was arched back onto his sixpack.

My tongue slid up and down the underside of his cock a few times before I grabbed his stiff cock in my fist and held it upright. Amazingly, it hadn't gotten longer as it got hard; in fact it may have even gotten shorter, but everything is relative. This smaller version was still the biggest cock I had ever seen, and even with both hands wrapped around the shaft, there was still much more exposed than I could fit in my mouth.

As I went down on Mr. Karl, his mouth let go of my balls, which were aching from being sucked on so hard and so long, and I felt his tongue slide under my sack and between my ass cheeks, which he was spreading wide. His tongue found my anus, and after some gentle licking of the ring, it entered me hard.

I shivered from the excitement, but with that pleasure came a great deal of concern. Was he actually going to want to...? The next shudder was that of fear. I had experienced a big man before, but not like this. My hands could barely reached around the middle of his cock's shaft, and as for the base - what would that feel like? It would rip me to shreds!