Catfish goes to School 2
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
The students were all uneasy the next morning. At Chapel Mrs. Putney was calming and direct. She had a good way of sounding in control. She comment briefly on the fire and said firemen would be around cleaning up and looking for the cause of the fire. "I do want to emphasize we have a strict no smoking policy at the school. Fires like this remind us of the soundness of that policy," she said before she moved on to other things.
Several arson investigators we on the site, but they were identified as being from the Fire Marshall's Office. That evening I went to see Anton who had the day off. He had gone to the hospital after he left the school to have his wrist x-rayed. It was a serious break. He had an apartment two blocks from the school. The art teacher from St. Thomas' Academy was there. He offered to make his school's studio available to St Cecelia's.
The St. Thomas' teacher, Barney Winter, was a bear of a man, much into pottery and sculpture. Anton was a painting and drawing man. The two men could hardly have been more different, but they got along well.
I asked if anything odd was going on with the students. "Like arson" Anton asked.
"Are the jungle drums telling that the natives are restless?" I said.
"Well the natives are horny and that's the way teenagers should be," Barney said. "As far as I can tell it's all desire and damn little action."
"Some of my better students have been hearing some nasty comments, about me," Anton said. "Officially it because I'm gay. We have some born again students that seem to find it necessary to prove their faith by afflicting a teacher."
"They know you're gay?" I asked.
Anton laughed. "Everyone had known I'm gay since I was three years old. To say I keep my sex life separate from my teaching career understates the case. I paint a lot in my spare time and have had several successful exhibitions. Any fun I do have is in the summer which I spend with friends in New York."
"Wildebeest runs a tight ship," Barney said. "Lose lips sink ships and he takes gossip badly. He is worried about a fringe group who has be agitating to get the school more Christian. We are an Episcopalian school, but Episcopalians aren't Christian enough. They had a fight with Wilda-Beast about allowing Jews in the school. We have two Indians and a Pakistani in the school now. That caused a stir. We had "terrorist go home" graffiti spray painted on the side of a dorm."
"Were students involved?" I asked.
"I'm not positive about that," Barney said. "I think Wilda-beast knows who it was. We had an assembly on the subject and he read the riot act. He feels prejustise is a character flaw, indicting second rate intelligence in a third rate person. Anyone caught acting on these unworthy sentiments would be expelled."
"I personally think someone's parents were putting one of the kids up to it," Anton said. "One of the reasons for sending children to schools like ours is to "protect" them from undesirables. The headmasters don't like that at all. We are schools, not monasteries or convents. Some of the scholarship students have had some nasty comments directed their way. That is worse at St. Cecilia's than at the boys' school. Boys don't notice that much."
"I do have one question for you Anton," I said. "How many people knew the end of semester portfolios were in the studio that burned?"
"Most of the school did. It's a big event. Next week we will select the items for the school art show. We have an art show, a play and musical performances at the end of each semester. Parents and the public are invited and it can be quite fancy," Anton explained.
"You mean the entire art show could have gone up in flames?" I asked.
"That is exactly what almost happened," Anton said.
It was getting late and I went back to the school. Barney offered me a ride. I took him up on it. "Would you like a beer?" he asked. "I live just outside town."
I said sure and we were there in ten minutes. "Anton is a good man," he said. "He's a bit swishy for my taste, but a good guy. I can assure you there is nothing out of line about his relationship with students. He's 100% professional. By the way, he has great Gaydar. He assumes you are gay. He's never that frank unless he knows."
I nodded and said, "His students were really attentive to him, but more in a motherly way than sexual." I said.
"The fire was arson, wasn't it?"
"Why do you assume that?" I asked.
"Three years ago we had an accidental fire, a light fell over and set some scrap paper on fire at my studio. I was there and got it out. If it had spread it could have been bad," Barney said. "We went on a fire safety campaign. I do a lot of sculpture and ceramics, so it not as much a problem for me as for Anton. His studios are all paper, canvas and flammable paints. He is careful. Nothing flammable is left out; the place is cleaned at the end of every day. If Anton finds you with matches or a cigarette lighter you are in deep shit."
"I smelled something. It could have been a solvent or paint, but I don't think so," I said. "The police will know soon enough."
"I thought the local police are bumpkins," Barney said.
"I wouldn't want to bet the farm on that," I said. "I've had some dealing with small police departments and they have been on the ball." We talked and I discovered Barney had a good grip on what was going on at the schools. As an art teacher he was outside the loop, but he had a good view from the outside.
"I noticed you don't seem to have a problem with Anton's sexual preferences," he said.
"It's none of my business," I said. "I don't care who sleeps with whom as long as it not me. Given my incredible attractiveness, I do pretty well for myself. When it's dark I'm an attractive man."
Barney smiled. "I look good on a moonless night," he said.
"It's lucky men don't need to be pretty. A dose of ugliness makes you more attractive," I added. "You're a beefy line backer type. In a woman that would be a disaster. In a man it's fine."
"Exactly how many doses of ugliness did you get?" he asked. "You aren't a conventional babe magnet."
"I would guess it got a triple dose of ugliness, but a double dose of cock. It evens out," I said. "The double cock isn't enough to attract babes, but it works as a stud magnet." Barney looked at me in the eye. We understood each other. He cupped his crotch. I unzipped.
"I like no strings fun," Barney whispered. "Is that a problem?"
"We think alike," I said. Barney was huge and in pretty good shape. He was a red bear with double the body hair and an average cock. He also had a good attitude.
"What in hell do you do with that thing!" he exclaimed when he saw my cock.
"You're an artist, you'll work out something," I said.
"I have a friend who would love to see it!" he said. "Would you think I'm an asshole if I gave him a call? He might like to join us."
"The more the merrier," I said. He made a call and then settled in to licking my cock for a while. He was good at it. Ten minutes later someone knocked on the door. It was Col. Wildahurst and the Police Chief. There was no time for introductions. The Colonel stripped his clothes off and launched himself at my cock as soon as he saw it, exclaiming, "Shit, Christmas came early!"
Wildahurst, better known as the Wilda-beast was noted for his boldness and impetuousness. The Police chief stripped more slowly and muttered something like, "Damn, this is a small world." Wilda-beast actually swallowed my entire cock and a few seconds late the Police Chief's cock was tickling my tonsils.
About ten minutes later, we got down to introductions. Wilda-beast introduced himself as George, and the Police Chief said he was Leo. George looked the way I would have thought Teddy Roosevelt would have looked. He was well built, moderately hairy and had a nice cock. He was spectacularly energetic and enthusiastic. Leo was a hairy Italian godfather type and had a thick, but plug cock. How he ended up in a small Virginia town I have no idea.
They were both size queens and loved my cock. They traded places so I could suck George and Leo could suck me. George returned to my cock and Barney fucked his as he sucked. "Do you bottom? George asked.
"I do, but it's mostly to be sociable; I like to top," I replied.
"This is your day, George," Barney remarked. "I shot a load up your ass. You should be lubricated."
"I can open you a little wider if you want," Leo said.
"It's been a long while since I've taken a cock as big as yours," George said. "I think it was a Marine in Germany."
How was it?" I asked.
"I was a bit drunk at the time, but the memory does stick with me. Are you nice and careful?" George asked. "I'm not sure I should take it, we just met." He was at a disadvantage since I was licking his cock in between snippets of conversation. He oozed some pre cum for the first time when he mentioned the Marine. I knew what he wanted.
"Let me be frank, I can be as nice or as rough as you like," I said, "but once you've taken half of it, I'm going to get the rest in you. I don't mind playing "hide the door knob" your sphincter, but eventually I want to get the bat in you too."
I took another lick of his cock and I knew he was willing. I got him on his back with Leo and Barney holding his legs wide. George had buns of steel, and a pretty little rosebud. He was also hard as a rock.
I'm not exactly new to man fucking, but you never know how you or your partner will react. I've screwed some men who looked like the centerfold in God's Greatest Stud Muffin Magazine who were as exciting a cottage cheese. I also done purely charity fucking that turned out to be great. I had no real expectations for George. If I had to guess, I assumed he was into size and he wanted to get fucked just to say he did it.
I lubricated my cock and touched his hole. "Stretch him a little wider," I told Barney and Leo. "I like it best if he's defenseless."
"You said you'd take your time," Barney said.
"I do take my time, but I like to run things. He'll be fine." I said. George had just been fucked by Barney, but his ass looked virgin. If you looked closely you could have seen a little milkiness at the hole, but I suspect few men entered him from the rear door. I touched his hole with my lubricated head.
George shivered. I didn't force it in at all. I just toyed with his hole. He was shivering in anticipation. "You want it bad, don't you? I asked as I applied a little pressure. "I love fucking a man hole that is filled with his buddy's man seed. Can you open up a little and show me his sperm? If any drools out, I was intercepting it with my cock head and shove it back in."
George dilated his ass and some of Barney's milky seed appeared. "He shot more than that in you! Show me more." I ordered. More semen appeared. I aimed my cock at the emerging cream and pushed. I thought I would slip in as far as I could without encountering resistance or causing pain.
A second later Barney's cream was four of five inched deeper in George's ass than it had been before. I went in all the way without any complaint from George at all.
"Get it deep! Shove it in harder!" George ordered. I did what I could. A minute or two later I understood George was a sex machine especially designed to ring my chimes. His ass was a sex furnace that needed to be stoked by my oozing cock. I was churning Barney's cream into sperm butter. When I got too close to shooting, I'd pull out and Barney would re enter to make sure George didn't close up.
Leo had been comparatively reserved until he saw my cock covered in Barney's cum. I hadn't guessed he liked to suck a cock fresh from the hole. "You'd like to clean it up after I've shot off?" I asked him. "Shit yes!" was his reply.
When I re entered George it was like old home day. He welcomed me like a long lost friend. He was both welcoming and needy. It's rare to encounter an ass hole that is good at expressing affection, but he had one. George possessed a sphincter that was almost prehensile. He had total control over it.
I was ready to go at it all night, but George said he had to get home. George turned his sphincter into a milking machine. I shot off a minute later. I managed both to fill George and give Leo a nice sperm desert. Barney took George's load so no semen was wasted. Leo took a few licks of George's ass too. I think he liked that. I went to my apartment and slept well. There were no fires, muggings or explosions. That is a good night for me.
The next day was uneventful. The police were done with the burned studio, so I began to clean it up. Anton was there with some of his students helping with the cleaning. The studio was in an older brick building with thick plaster on all the walls so there was no major damage. The school was self insured, so we proceeded with the clean up and repair immediately.
St. Cecelia's tended to hire older men for maintenance. That may have been reassuring to the girls' parents, but was a poor policy when it came to heavy lifting. I'm 125 pounds, so I have a limit too. For the cleanup, St. Thomas's sent over some beefier janitors and some students. The students were football players or wrestlers. They were helpful.
I knew quite a bit about fire cleanup due to my previous experiences, and by default was in charge. The St. Thomas's janitors, Bubba and Bro weren't brain surgeon material, but they were good at moving things. The fire was limited to one room but the the smoke got into four classrooms, so all the furniture, walls and surfaces needed to be cleaned of soot and grime.
Classes were over at three and there had been a request by Mrs. Putney for volunteers to help clean up. We got about 30 girls and the boys from St Thomas' School.
Most of the volunteers were gung ho, but two of the jocks from St. Thomas's were distinctly uninvolved. They were bigger and looked older than the other students. I asked them to move a work table and one told me, "Move it yourself, shrimp." A man on the other side of the room came over.
"A little less attitude and a lot more work, Gerald!" he said in a slightly menacing voice. The man looked at me. "The boy came form a good family but his folks never taught him any manners, mister. I'm Coach Ruffman," he said in introduction. "Those boys are six-year-men, and the extra years don't seem to have helped."
"I'm Will, a new janitor here," I said, "What is a six-year-man?"
"We are a prep school, and if it doesn't take in four years we keep them and do some junior college," he said. "I see you're a janitor not a maintenance engineer?"
"Well, it seems to me a pig and the other white meat are the same thing," I said.
He laughed. "If you have any problems with Gerald or his sidekick Newton, just give me a holler." I didn't have a problem, as long as the coach was in sight. The second he left, they reverted. They were like six-year-old kids being bad. I noticed they did talk with Dee Dee and her pals.
We got a lot done. Given that the girls had little training in cleaning, they did well. A good many were use to having the maid do that sort of thing, but this was good for them. Bubba gave them some advice on moving furniture without hurting your back. He and his buddy Bro stepped in where needed with the heavier things. The St. Thomas' boys did well to excepting Gerald and his pals.
The next day we got the electricians in to check out the system. I ran into an old pal named Mike who was the head of the electrical crew. We also had a visit from the chairman of the Board, and several Board members. Unexpectedly several board members from St. Thomas' visited too. I guessed this was a show of solidarity with their sister school.
One of the St. Cecelia's members joined the girls in their cleaning tasks. Another one appeared with drinks and food. She was pleased with the girls' contributions, but made sure the male part of the cleanup effort got refreshments too.
One of the St. Thomas' board members seemed to be shocked the girls were doing any work at all, and loudly said, "If the men working on the cleanup were real men, we wouldn't allow girls to do men's work." He was a big, overweight and ill kept man, loud and obnoxious. He looked slightly familiar.
"Gerald, I'm afraid you have missed a full century of change!" Mrs. Putney exclaimed. "Ladies don't just stay home and drink tea!"
"It would be a lot better if they were at home," he added. "Life was good when everyone knew their place, like it says in the Bible."
"As you well know, when ladies stayed home and drank tea, many women worked in sweat shops and the children worked in factories and mines. I'd also be careful about using the phrase "Knew their place." That was a euphemism for something hateful," she added. Gerald turned deep red and stomped away. I suddenly realized he must have been Gerald, the six-year man's father. It's depressing to realize that being an asshole is an inherited trait.
"What a fucking jerk," I said without thinking. I was trying to be careful around the girls.
"That's an understatement," Eleanor said as she walked away.
"That is the great, high and mighty Gerald Fitzroy Milland III," one of the older girls said. "He's 50% money and 100% shit. I know that's mathematically impossible, but it's true."
"It certainly is true, but in-artfully expressed. Milland III has been promising a major gift for a decade and so far his only gift to St Thomas' is his son."
"Well the nuts don't fall far from the nut tree do they?" another girl said. By the end of the day, every room except for the studio itself was cleaned and usable again. I went to my apartment to clean up. As soon as I showered I was pressed into kitchen duty. Mrs. Putney didn't have a cook except for school functions. The unexpected arrival of the board meant she had to cook something fast.
Actually her husband was the cook. He was a very good cook. I sliced and diced for him for a while. Several students were pressed into service. There were twenty unexpected guests, but Douglass was unflappable. I got pressed into service as a bartender. Everyone else was underage.
I was wearing dungarees and a flannel shirt, with a few missing buttons.
"Elinor said you are Miss Sarah's nephew," and older woman said, "She was a rock for me when I was a student here. You saved the day for us at the art studio."
"I was in the right place at the right time," I said.
"You don't look like her at all."
"My Uncle said I was the runt of a litter of one."
The lady laughed. "Somehow, I seem to remember a favorite nephew who was a character and a bit of a handful for his mother. Could that be you?"
"I kind of think it might be," I said.
"Miss Sarah was good in difficult times. She had a knack for saving the day. You seem to have inherited that characteristic. I'm Lucy Deventer, but the way," she added. "She knew me as Lucy Culburton."
"They named the town after you?" I asked. Culburton was a mill town in Southside Virginia.
"Heavens no," she replied laughing. "That was Granddaddy."
Millard III was there as was his son. "Eleanor seems to have gone in for moonshine and Brie! Damn you can't get help anymore," Millard III said. "I bet we will get some of the gourmet crap Douglass likes. I like real food." His son looked embarrassed.
"What's your pleasure, Sir?" I asked. I would love to give a class in analyzing comment made by assholes. It would be sort of like Freud's dream analysis. What does it say about a man to unexpectedly show up at a house; be graciously asked to dinner, and then you insult the servants and the host?
"Scotch on the rocks, and make it strong," he replied. I wanted to ask him if he wanted it in a glass or straight from the bottle. The first rule of asshole control is to never rise to the bait. Wilda-beast took him off. Millard III came back more times than was appropriate for this sort of an affair.
When Wilda-Beast came back for a refill, I warned him Millard III had enough."Oh shit!" he said.
Eleanor announced that dinner was served. "This is a last minute affair so I hope you will forgive the informality. You know we go try to meet our guests' special food needs, but we weren't able to do that except for our dear friend, Gerald Millard III."
Douglass brought out a silver tray with a sliver domed top. He lifted the top with great flourish exposing a McDonald's Happy Meal in some really fancy china. The room erupted in laughter. Millard III was too drunk to notice. Dinner was uneventful and Wilda-beast and Gerald IV shepherded Millard III home.
Lucy Deventer called for everyone to be quiet. "This has been a wonderful day. I came here with foreboding about the fire. I lever reassured at the way out students, our faculty and the staff have pulled together. Eleanor has proven her leader ship again, as if she needed to do that for the umpteenth time. We end this day with a wonderful dinner among friends. Douglass, you are a magician! Tonight I will go home and thank God the Father, his son Jesus and the Holy Ghost that I will never have to look at a Happy Meal again without laughter."
The room exploded in laughter again. The guests left and I worked the clean up detail. I waked around the school before I went to bed. All was quiet. I called my office and left a message to investigate Gerald Millard III.
The next day was Saturday and I had the day off. I walked downtown to get some toothpaste and ran into Calhoun.