Catfish Looks for Loot 5 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
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Danny's photographs showed rooms filled with stuff: antiques, sculptures and paintings. It was hard to focus on an individual painting because there was so much. I was hunting for something I had seen in the stolen art records. That was hard since Danny was hunting for my cock. I tried to divert his attention.
"Are you a size-queen by any chance?" I asked.
"Hell no, but I'm willing to try," he replied. I had guessed wrong about his preferences.
"You bottom?" I asked.
"No, you bottom?" he asked.
"I've been known to take a cock, but I like a man who reciprocates," I said. That made my interests pretty clear. I thought it might discourage him, but I had underestimated the nature of a sex driven man. I laughed to myself. I was the last man in the world to underestimate a man's sexual urges.
I heard a noise and looked up. A man was in the room looking at us. Danny looked up too.
"You have to stop sneaking up on us, Doug," Danny said. "It's rude."
"Are you busy? I was just passing by," Doug said.
"Not as busy as I was hoping to be," Danny replied.
"Is there room for a third?" Doug asked. "I'm really horny."
Danny looked at me and explined. "Doug was my first lover. Now we're just sex buddies. He has a nice ass, open and accommodating. Are you willing to share your ass Doug with guy you don't know?" Doug nodded.
"I don't mind helping a man in need," I said. By then Doug was naked and a few seconds later Danny was naked too. I stripped. There were no preliminaries; we went from just meeting to full sexual involvement in seconds. I had just kicked off my pants when Doug was trying to deep throat me. He took my entire cock, but as I became hard, he pulled back. When we got on the bed Doug switched to sucking Danny's fireplug style cock. I rotated and sucked Doug, as Danny sucked me.
Doug had a long, thin cock and was oozing precum. I could easily deep throat him and when I pulled off, I suctioned globs of the stuff from his balls. Danny had my cockhead in his mouth and he seemed to be trying to get his tongue into my oozing cum slit. We traded partners and I discovered that Danny's cock was the Niagara Falls of precum spigots. The ooze flowed.
I know that it is easy to catch sexual excitement from other excited men. This was the perfect storm for sex. We were all into it. Somehow my cock was soon in Doug's ass and he was moaning in pleasure. Danny gave me a snort of poppers and eased into my hole using his precum as lubricant. He had a short, stubby cock with an oversized mushroom. It continuously rubbed my prostate.
We had near prefect coordination. As his knob rammed my prostate, it boosted me deeper into Doug's ass. Both Danny and Doug were appreciative.
I needed a break and Danny took my place in Doug's ass. This was their usual role and it was a joy to watch. Danny's ass was wide open. I gave him the poppers. He took a whiff, then I took a snort. He shivered as my knob touched his hole. I pushed. It vanished into his ass.
I was shocked. A second or two later, I realized Danny was shooting off into Doug. I could feel him twitch with each ejaculation. He pulled out of Doug and let him cool down.
"I didn't know you bottomed," Doug said to Danny. "That was the first time you have popped in me."
"You liked that? I didn't expect what happened. It surprised me," Danny replied. "I kind of lost it."
"That's why we are here, isn't it?" I said. "Cum exchange is part of the deal."
"Are you still fully loaded?" Danny asked. "Doug likes to lick it up sometimes."
"I like to make deliveries to the mouth and the ass," I said, adding that there was enough spooge for them both. I was behind Doug on the bed. My cock sought out his hole and gently eased into the pucker.
"Do you mind if I push Danny's seed deeper into you?" I asked.
"Oh god that good!" Doug moaned.
Danny snuggled up to me. His long prong was soon probing my ass. A triple fuck is complicated, but Danny and Doug were into it and made it work. Luckily, Danny had just begun to explore the sexual potential of his prostate, and wanted to do more. After two hours more of sex and every possible sexual combination, I was worn out and went home.
I got back to the hotel by11:00. Toby had just returned from dinner. Bobby and Billy arrived at 11:30. We were all tired. At breakfast the next day Toby told us that Beau thought he was a hot prospect and had mentioned some "special" items that might interest him. Toby had told him that he didn't like people looking at his collection; it was strictly for his own pleasure. He also told Beau that all his purchases were strictly in cash. A good portion of his business was in cash, and he didn't always report it to the IRS.
Toby was very perceptive. Toby had a perfect act of a redneck who had made it to the big time. He knew how to say things with a little innuendo letting Beau know he was flexible. Paintings with a problematic backgrounds were not a problem.
That afternoon after we looked at the paintings at the gallery, we went to the secret warehouse. Beau didn't want Toby's entourage, but since Toby paid in cash, he understood why we were there. The trip to the warehouse was a surprise. If there was a Stolen Art R US store, this would be it. There were American and European paintings, Wild West art, American Indian stuff, Central American artifacts, a lot of Mid-Eastern antiquities.
I had an odd sense that this was where stolen art went when it was too hot to sell. Toby kept Beau occupied as I took pictures elsewhere in the warehouse. Beau bought about fifty-thousand dollars of art in cash. I suspected that Beau was usually more careful about letting strangers see the collection. Toby flashed wads of cash in front of Beau. That distracted him and he let down his guard.
It was Toby's personal money, but the FBI had marked it to make it traceable. We didn't know if Beau owned the works, or if they were on consignment. Following the cash would be useful. Driving back to Richmond, Toby told me the paintings were going for ten cents on the dollar. "Townsend told me the usual stolen painting discount is fifty to sixty percent. I wonder if there are stolen works, and even more stolen works?" he mused. "Can some paintings be too hot to sell?"
"Townsend is the man for the answer to that question," Toby answered. "I told Beau that I would be back for some more high dollar art. He is the perfect snake oil salesman; he was all but drooling when I left. I did mention that I kept part of my collection secret. That was in case he found out about my museum connection. He is uneasy about museums. He says their demands for proper provenance is too much. They miss out on a lot of good paintings by being unreasonably demanding."
Bobby and Billy had been near perfect low IQ goons. They were smart guys, but they played the role well. My Uncle that for most men playing dumb is easy. While I had been talking pictures of painting, Billy took pictures of the labels on the back of the paintings. That proved to be very useful.
I had sent my cell phone photos to the museum. I received a return message asking if we could meet the next afternoon. The next day's meeting at the museum was good. They had identified several paintings, but the labels which identified galleries and auction lots were the star of the show. The labels excited the New York and the European investigators. Toby had bought a small painting which had been in the Hirsh collection, by a guy named Lucas Cranach. I had never heard of him, but it was part of the Old Masters part of the collection which was still missing.
This meant that the other part of the Hirsh collection might have survived. The professional art detectives were pleased with the photos. It turns out that the men and women looking for stolen and looted art tend to be obsessive. They have done detailed research on the missing paintings and have a list of the usual suspects imprinted on their brains. Most of the suspect galleries were in Europe, New York, Chicago and Buenos Aires.
The looting of Jewish art collections was a well-known activity. In some respects, the Nazi's were equal opportunity looters. Polish collections were stolen as were Dutch and French collections, if their owners had left them as they escaped the invasion.
The Director took us to the Museum's conservation labs, where they were doing emergency repairs to damaged artworks. An un-air-conditioned warehouse in Petersburg is not good for old paintings. There were paintings everywhere. All of the paintings were dirty, several were badly damaged. There had been a leak, so there was water damage, and one painting was slashed. A conservator said glass from a broken skylight had done that.
One of my former employees was working there. Tony had been a part time worker for me years earlier. He had gained some weight, all of it in muscle and he looked good. He was injecting some sort of adhesive behind flaking paint to keep it in place. Tony was a big man, but he had an incredibly delicate touch.
He had also been removing labels. There were multiple gallery labels, auction house tags and labels of private collectors. The German agencies also added their own marks, complete with a written destination for the painting. Some were marked for museums, but others for individual German army officers.
This was the Rosetta stone for the European art hunters. It provided a missing link between the looted art collections and their original destination. The Monuments Men had found the caves and mines holding the big public collections, but many paintings had already been distributed to individuals.
Toby was ready for another trip to Charlotte, but the FBI decided to raid the place immediately. The condition problems of the Petersburg paintings suggested that some of the works needed immediate rescue. There was also a fear that if any word leaked out about the investigation the warehouse might be torched. Our job was done. I went home, planning for a restful night.
This was a good result for me. I was a little surprised when Toby, Townsend and Tony came to see me in the evening two days later. We had a beer and Toby got down to business. He had mentioned that his wife had been scammed by several galleries when she had begun to collect. It hadn't been much of a financial loss to him, but it had deeply embarrassed his wife. He wanted to put them out of business.
This had nothing to do with the museum. The Museum moved in more elevated collecting levels than these small town actors. Townsend and Tony were willing to help out, but they wanted more professional guidance. We had a few more beers and I agreed to join them. It was getting late and when they got ready to leave, I realized no one was in shape to drive home.
"Hey boys, I'm afraid no one is going to drive tonight. How about a sleep over?" I suggested.
"I don't have my jammies?" Townsend jokingly protested. The men laughed. "Do you still sleep nude?" he asked. I nodded.
"I thought you slept nude and erect?" Toby added. He looked around at the other men. "Are we all members of the same fraternity?" He knew the answer and then mentioned that he didn't bottom much. Toby was enthusiastic about the sleep-over. I soon realized that Tony was the reason for his interest.
Townsend, Billy and Johnny were okay looking men; Tony was an A-Number-One stud-muffin. It helped that Tony seemed unaware of his good looks, or muscular body. He was also intelligent, a good conversationalist and willing. Tony liked bear types. While twinks can age badly, bears just become more bear-like as they age. Toby was so interested in Tony that he made the first move. He fondled Tony balls and a minute later they were naked and in the 69 position.
That left me with Townsend. He was a slightly effete otter. While I wasn't his type, sex with me hit the spot for him. Actually, we had a lot of fun.
Toby and Townsend's relationship was all oral. Townsend and my relationship always ended with my cock deep in his ass. I think Townsend was a bit uneasy about that, but his sexual needs seemed to demand a fresh load of my cum in his ass. I think he was also uneasy about Toby's reaction to that.
He didn't need to worry. Toby liked it and he liked to watch as Tony sucked him. I knew from my time as an undercover porn actor, that I had a perfect cock for spectators. Any cock can create sexual pleasure, but mine was long enough to see, even when the camera man isn't very good. I can also thrust at a slow and easy rate. Frantic fucking may be good, but it is hard to photograph. I was good about pulling out briefly, shooting off on my playmates hole, and then planting the quivering seed in the open ass. I am a scrawny, unimpressive man, but seeing the orgasm and sperm planting was good for porn. It sure was good for Toby.
When I pulled out, Toby took my place. Townsend's sperm filled ass was a magnet. Townsend's ass had briefly remained open when I pulled out. Toby slipped in in time for Townsend's to close his sphincter on the cock. Tony wasn't the shy type. He stood behind Toby, playing with his tits and advising him on good fucking technique. "Cum is the best lube," Tony whispered to Toby.
"Do you want to do him?" Toby asked.
"Add you cream to the brew," Tony said. "I've never fucked a guy with two loads in him before." It didn't take long for Toby to pop. He pulled out and Tony replaced him. Watching sex acts can be a turn on, but they are rarely pretty. Tony and Townsend were elegant, graceful and unexpectedly macho. Tony's thrusts were rhythmic and deep. Townsend responded to every thrust. Somehow Tony shot off as Townsend sprayed the room with a hands free orgasm. Things calmed down after that. we all took a shower and went to bed.
At five in the morning, Toby's moans woke me. He was on his back with his legs on Tony's shoulders as he experienced the same rhythmic thrusting. It was pretty and I watched as Toby discovered his prostate and its sexual potential. While Tony had a nice cock, I think Toby appreciated Tony's body more.
Toby's moans woke Townsend too. He was sharing my bed. Townsend is a young guy and he woke with a first rate erection. I had an itch up my ass, so I felt his cock, realized he was already oozing. I straddled him and sat on it. I was relaxed and it slid in easily. I am not a natural bottom, but when I do, I am an active bottom. I rotated my ass and clenched my sphincter to massage the cock. Sometimes it is nice when the bottom does all the work and lets the top concentrate on staying hard.
Townsend liked this and after ten minutes or so, he shot off. Much to my surprise, I felt his ejaculations. My prostate felt his cock twitching, and it felt like a miniature fire hose was spurting deep in my ass. We adjourned to the shower. Toby bent over and Tony returned to his ass. Townsend took advantage of Tony's open hole and I entered Townsend. We played a little game of musical chairs and rotated partners.
At the last rotation, I was in Toby's ass, Tony in mine and Townsend in Tony. I was the third man to fuck Toby that night, so I was careful. My cock was bigger than Tony or Townsend's organ. Toby was really open and it wasn't a problem. Tony shot off in me, and then he and Townsend went to Toby's cock to take his cum. I began to pound harder and Toby popped. Toby seemed to have a hollow leg to store sperm; all of his orgasms were massively productive. There was enough to share. Afterwards, Townsend came to kiss me. His mouth was full of Toby's sperm and we shared. That made me shoot off. Toby noticed and had a few late ejaculations. Tony was still sucking, and took it all.
We weren't exactly lovers, but we were an incredibly compatible sex group. The session was over, but we knew we would do it again.
A week later Townsend and I were at a gallery in Savanna. I was playing the older redneck who had hit it big. I was a sugar daddy. Townsend was my boy. We went to Old Plantation Gallery which had sold Toby's wife a landscape they said was an Asher Durand. Townsend was playing the pretentious boy on the make, who thought paintings "classed up" a house. I was the rich redneck who was just trying to keep boy in bed.
I am just few steps up from being the village idiot with respect to paintings, but most of the stuff there was "sofa sized" paintings sold from a truck in the parking lots of a half-empty shopping center. Townsend told the gallery owner Betty that he wanted older paintings, to match an antique dining room set.
Betty knew the lay of the land and called in a 25-year-old pretty boy, Grant, and an old man, Sonny, to show us around the good stuff. The Old Plantation had both an up-scale gallery that showed the "good" paintings, and a back room. The back room was all over priced junk, but appealed to buyers who thought the dealer might not recognize hidden treasures. Sonny took Townsend under his wing. I was stuck with Grant.
Grant was obviously learning the trade. He was cute, but thought he was cuter and more charming than actuality. I told him I was into Western or Civil War stuff. I think he was 150% gay, but hadn't learned how to check out a guy's privates without being obvious. He liked what he saw. He was hard and his precum made a little damp spot.
I said I wasn't that interested in art, and wanted a beer. I asked if there was any bars nearby. He said no, but his apartment was around the corner. I told Townsend I was going out for a beer, he said he was busy looking at the good stuff. He suggested I be back in and hour or hour and a half.
I went off to Grant's apartment. He sort of forgot about the beer and grabbed my crotch as soon as we were behind closed doors. "Will you get in trouble with Sonny by going off?" I asked.
"Hell no! We are on commission and if I'm there he has to split the take," Grant explained. He felt my crotch again. "Is that all cock?" he asked. I knew his job was to keep me happy. Few of their customers knew anything about art, but they appreciated sex with a young man. I wondered of Grant was good with wealthy widows too.
I nodded. "Are you interested?" I asked.
"Sort of, I guess," he replied. "I'd like to see it." he paused. "I might like to taste it." I unzipped. From then on we were and automatic pilot. He was experienced, but not as experienced as he thought he was. Grant was horny as shit. He had bottomed a few times, but not for his lover. He thought his lover was too big. I told him they were rarely too big if you wanted it enough and that I would be glad to stretch his hole some.
"I'm pretty sure that won't fit!" he said. I know that "pretty sure" means he was willing; he just needed to do some convincing. I was partly right about that. He was willing, but he didn't need any convincing. As soon as I was fully erect he would want it. I knew his type
We went to the bedroom. It was a shock. His bed was in the corner of a large artist studio filled with paintings being restored, enhanced and antiqued. This is where he made antiques for sale at the Old Plantation Galleries.
Grant had a shaved, swimmers body, sleek and elegant. He wasn't my type. I would make the sacrifice. For a forger, Grant was a nice guy. He also had a good supply of precum, which I appreciated as inspiration and he liked to take a cock doggy style. That gave me some time to look around the studio. I had to be careful. If I became too involved in looking, I might shoot off too fast. As long as I was hard and in his ass, Grant wouldn't care what I was looking at.
He had a thin, juicy, easy to deep throat cock. Precum is aphrodisiac for me, and Grant's cock drool had an extra dose of whatever excited me. I was tempted to just lick it up, but I knew he wanted to be fucked, and I wanted to check out the studio.
Luckily, for a slim, elegant man, Grant had an elastic ass. He was tight, but he really wanted it. he tensed up when my cock head made it to the dark side of his sphincter. I pulled out a little and spent a few minutes massaging and stretching his sphincter before I went deep. It was really good for him.
It was a tight a good fit for me. Grant had told me he liked long sessions, and I was pumping slow, deep strokes. Once and awhile I made a fast deep thrust, to keep his prostate from relaxing. Paintings filled the room. one side of the room had average paintings. The other had distinctly older paintings. They had been aged and improved.
Grand might have been a good painter, and he could add to the works to make them more saleable. I noticed the portraits on the aged side of the room had more interesting backgrounds, and some of the women held children. There were four of these. I knew that most portraits were of women alone. The children had been added.
When I realize that I shot off. I thought, oh shit, I'm having detective relating orgasms now. That was a first for me.