Catfish Sort of Retires 6 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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The Sheriff discovered the fires weren't truly serial arson. The Totten family simply wasn't good at setting fires. They were practicing fires went out. They did not practice throwing Molotov Cocktails either which is why little damage was done. Of course, the police were searching for Mr. Jones, but Jones is a difficult name to trace. We didn't have a first name, although looking for a Bob, John or Bill Jones only slightly reduced the list of possible suspects.
Nathan West had an online presence and that had potential, Edward was looking into that. Edward had an attractive problem of being compulsive-obsessive. He enjoyed tedious computer searches. Max returned his motel contacts. He was searching for men who were regularly at the same motel as West.
Templeton had some luck with Wilton Farrar. Templeton was a stealth gossip. He had a way of telling people things they needed to know on deep background. He rarely named names, but he got the message across. They often returned the favor.
Wilton was a gadfly. He was nearby every time someone whispered treasure. He was always on the lookout for a lead to a fantastic fortune. He was a personable and wealthy man who gained most of his wealth skirting the edge of legality. In most of his partnerships he usually did much better than his partners. He had once been into the golf club scene, but he tended to win at cards more times than statistically probable. His golf scores were better when he was keeping score. That information gave us a start.
We were also hunting for Mr. Jones. Max was working the motel registers. That was mind numbing work, but if Max was working, he was happy. He didn't find Jones, but he did find a man named Jones Smith. That seemed too much of a bad thing. Jones Smith didn't stay at the same motel as West, but his visits were at the same time as West. He might come a day earlier and stay two days later in a local motel, so it wasn't exact. This happened four times and that couldn't be a coincidence.
Edward, my computer man and his best friend, Nelson, did a time line of the visits and incidents. Nelson was a retired professor of Statistic and probability. The incidents occurred a day after Jones Smith left. He obviously wanted to be elsewhere when the crimes were committed. The Sheriff and the FBI took notice.
After work on Thursday, Ralph, Max and Charley the Crab Man came by. Delaney came back from work and joined us. A late afternoon thunder storm blew up, so we were inside. Max was saying how much he enjoyed the last weekend's activities. Dulaney agreed, but said he was uneasy about getting fucked.
"You didn't like it?" Ralph asked
"Oh, I liked it. I liked it a lot. I just felt exposed. I have doctorate and am a professor. Should I have been doing that?" Dulaney explained.
"I won't tell you the positions of some of the men I have fucked," Ralph said. "I haven't fucked the King of England or the Emperor of China, but I gotten really close. Rank has nothing to do with the way you feel about a cock in your ass."
"It took me some time too," Charley said. "You get screwed up by ideas about what you are supposed to do and be as a man. Being the strong silent type is good in cowboy movies, but it may also mean there is a heart attack sometime in your future. There are some women who believed you should stay a virgin until Mr. Right appears. That can be a long, joyless wait. It worse when you're a gay man waiting for the right woman."
"I'm afraid that I have settled for Mr. Right Now, a few times," Ralph said.
"I have a feeling it is more than a few times," Charley said.
Ralph laughed. "If I were to count them it might seem that I've been a bit slutty."
"I think being a bit slutty is your best characteristic!" I interjected.
"I have a lot of friends, some with and some without benefits. Most of them are still friends," Ralph said. "If making a choice between "You can't be too rich or too thin, and you can't have too many friends, I would pick the friends. If they are friends with benefits, that even better. That's the icing on the cake."
"Is that sperm flavored icing on your cake?" Dulaney asked. There was more laughter.
"Do any of you feel used when a guy fucks you?" Max asked. "In high school some guys seemed to think getting fucked was punishment for losing a wrestling match."
"Was getting fucked punishment for a woman getting married?" I asked. "It seems to me it was doing "your duty" for some. I think fucking losers was an excuse for man sex. Sex was okay as long as it was punishment."
"Whatever it is, I do know that doing more of it solves my problems!" Ralph said. That statement seemed to please everyone. When in doubt, have sex.
Charley connected with Dulaney. They had never met before and I suspected Charley liked to sample new meat.
Ralph dropped to his hands and knees to suck Max. Ralph's legs were spread wide and his hole was visible. In case no one got the message, the hole was clearly lubricated. It was an invitation and I accepted it. Max was smiling at me. He wanted to watch. I took my time, but even if Max had not been watching, he could have gauged my progress up the ass by Ralph's moans.
I had fucked Ralph before, but this time it was doggy style, and that did the trick for Ralph. My cock was perfectly placed to ring all of Ralph's bells, including a few he hadn't known about. It was good for me and great for Ralph. I have been fucking guys for years, but I still get surprised it can feel new again even if I'm in a well-used ass. For Max and Dulaney it was as if I had been doing a super bowl ad promoting anal sex.
Ten minutes later Charley was in Dulaney's ass and Dulaney was loving it. Andy and Raoul had joined our happy band. They connected with Max. Apparently youth and enthusiasm were the key to unlocking Max's ass. Raoul had impressive stamina that helped Max move from being an amateur to professional bottom status.
When Charley pulled out after christening Dulaney's ass using sperm rather than champagne, Andy filled the ass. Andy was young, but experienced and imaginative. Andy's cock was thin, but his nob was oversized. Instead of having a tube of man meat in your ass, it felt more like a detached ball, running in and out of your ass. Dulaney loved it and Andy loved to please.
Everyone was excited and involved. I could sense the inhibitions melting and fading away. Dulaney had opened his ass for total penetration and Raoul's cock was ready and Max's ass was open. At some point the men were no longer just fucking.
Fucking is a crude term which is in adequate to cover the range of physical and mental emotions. Shoving your cock into an ass and pounding away until you shoot off can be a crude. It can be good when you ease it into the ass, savoring the tightness and warmth of Dulaney's ass. I heard him moan when I got it all in. My pubic hairs were tickling his hole before he tightened his sphincter.
Dulaney moaned. "It feels great, but it must be messy. They all shot off in me," he whispered.
"It's smooth as silk in there. I can try to push deeper. Do you want that?" I asked. He nodded. Andy had a short recharge time and he came up behind me and used his cock to massage my hole. Andy pushed deeper into me when I pulled away from Dulaney. When I was deep in Dulaney he pulled away from me. Andy had a good sense of rhythm, so it was poetry in motion. I wanted it to last, but as the sex got better, the urge to ejaculate grew. Man sex is self-limiting. Andy's squirting cock was all I needed to shoot off.
A half hour later Dulaney and Max were comfortable and satisfied with free and easy sexual activities. They could intimately give and take without worry or second thoughts. My friends and I tended to be sexually generous, and that was helpful. Neither Max nor Dulaney were standard gay sex objects. To be truthful we are all non-standard.
Raoul observed that sometimes his cock could find the best in a man. You are naked and exposed even the most calculating man can't hide his true feelings as another man's cock is trying to fuck your sperm out of your balls. Max saw himself as damaged. Once he restored his cock and ass to their full sexual function his crippled arm seemed like a minor inconvenience. Dulaney was a bit of a troll and socially inept. He would have settled for anything that could be classified as sex. He had no idea his ass could have been classified as a sexual amusement park. My cock hit the right spots in his ass, and I wasn't the only one to discover that.
At noon the next day, Templeton called me with more information on Wilton Farrar. Wilton had been the fair- haired boy when he first appeared on the scene. He was smart, handsome and witty. He had a beautiful wife and was successful in business. He tended to skate close to the thin ice, but never fell in.
There was a bad divorce and it turned out that his wife's money was the secret to his success. Luckily, the bulk of her money was protected in trust funds, and when her father discovered Wilton's financial losses, he told her the truth. She divorced him. It was an embarrassment, and the father paid him a cool million to not contest the divorce.
Wilton was currently the President of Fairwinds Adventures, and upscale touring company. In theory it provided tours of exotic places. It owned a decommissioned ship which had served scientific expeditions. It was renovated to provide luxury accommodations. The tours were sporadic, and the ship was available for much of the year. Templeton said that big bucks were involved.
I gave Wilton Farrar's information to Edward and he set his cyber hunters on the trail. That search was a goldmine of information. Treasure hunting was a focus of his activities, but his treasure included stolen art works and antiquities. There was some suggestion he was interested in Middle Eastern loot for Iraq and Syria, freshly dug Mayan antiquities and art stolen by the Nazis. His father had been a noted appraiser of ancient art, and apparently Wilton had gone over to the dark side.
Our treasure hunting adventures were a sideline. Those who deal in suspect antiquities seem to be attracted to anything of value. Most major discoveries end up in museums. Many objects are available on the open market, but exceptionally fine or valuable objects go to museums.
I was still puzzled at the interest in the suspect Bluebeard's treasure. It seemed like it was such a long shot. Two days later the sheriff came to see me with a man named Thor Magnus. A name like Thor promises much, but rarely[BW1] delivers. Thor was about six-feet-six, 250 pounds of all muscle and only lacked a helmet with horns to be the image of a Nordic god.
Thor was an art historian who specialized in recovery of stolen goods. He was interested in Nathan West and Wilton Farrar. We talked about the case and I told him I was puzzled by the case. "It seems to me the Bluebeard legends are thin and questionable. There seems to be big bucks involved and little chance of return," I explained.
"I noted that," Thor said in an English accent. He was Swedish but had been educated at Oxford. "What were the local men associated with West like?"
"A nasty combination of scum of the earth and dumb as shit," I said.
"I think Catfish is gilding the lily a bit. They are dumber than shit," the Sheriff replied.
"That is what I expected," Thor said. "It fits a pattern I have noticed in a few recent cases. The men at the heart of antiquities and art looting are wealthy, acquisitive men. They want it all and being stolen or looted means nothing to them. They want to possess these items. I suspect that West and Farrar are scamming the scammers."
"I take it that the men at the top are millionaires?" I asked. "Since they are engaged in illegal activities, they can't turn a con man over to the police?" Thor nodded.
"They could shoot them," the sheriff suggested.
"I doubt an accidental or incidental death would be a problem, but the money involved might seem large to peasant types like us, it is not large to them." Thor said. "The Russians would have no problem with a murder, but the western Europeans wouldn't like it at all."
This made sense to me and the sheriff. No serious criminal organization would hire local help like the Totten gang. The sheriff had to leave for a court appearance. Thor stayed.
Templeton called me and I found out that Thor was a friend of one of his New York connections. The informal bankers network had many tentacles. Thor was to say at the house and vanish from the international art scene and look around. Templeton said that Thor was open minded and would have no problem with my normal activities.
Thor and I got along well. His specialty was recovering Nazi looted art. I had some experiences with that, and we compared notes. Dulaney came back from the dig. Thor knew him by reputation. While Thor was essentially an archaeology cop, he was interested in the field work aspect. He impressed and flattered Dulaney. Looking like a Nordic god and acting like a real archeologist was a rare combination.
I was a sultry late summer day, hot and sticky. I suggested we go to the pool.
"The cement pond?" Thor asked with a smile on his face. It was hard to believe the Beverly Hillbillies were known in Sweden. I am not a hillbilly, but I guessed I was 4,000 miles closer to being a hillbilly that any one Thor had ever met.
"We like to go skinny dipping in the `ol watering hole'," I said. "Are you into it?"
"I sunburn," Thor said.
"We can take care of that," Dulaney said.
"We can get the lotion into all the hard to reach places too," I added. We walked to the pond. Usually there was some breeze, but this wasn't that sort of a day. Thor was a good-looking man but naked he was spectacular, muscular and covered in blond fuzz. He was well equipped, the high side of average. He checked me out. "Someone told me there was more to you than met the eye," he remarked.
He jumped in the water and did some laps. Ralph came by with Andy, Charley the Crab man and Doug, Charley's pal, the house painter. I think Thor thought this was a selection of typical American types. Rural Virginia is a long way from Oxford, London, or Stockholm. We all got along well.
I was sitting beside the pool and Thor joined me. "They are friendly men," he remarked.
"After a long day in this heat, they can be a lot more than friendly." I said.
"Really? Which ones are the most accommodating?" he asked.
"They all are, and for your information they are all full service," I said. Thor looked puzzled. I added, "They suck, fuck, top and bottom."
Thor leaned close to me. "Are any of them into the rough stuff?" he whispered.
I shook my head, "We are all friendly with open asses and open mouths. They like it bare and have no problem taking man seed," I said.
"The young guy seemed nice, but . . .?" Thor murmured.
"He's okay, but I would be gentle," I replied. "He likes marathons more than sprints," I said. "Are you full service?"
"I do it all, but I prefer the top," he said.
"Andy might give you a poke," I said.
"I was thinking about yours. I've never taken one as big," Thor said.
"My cock is not for the indecisive. Once my cock is at your sphincter, it's a bad time to lose your nerve," I said. "No one here would object to giving you stretching exercises and leaving all-natural lubricant deep in you," I said. Thor smiled.
Thor was well equipped to be a popular man. I think it took him five or ten minutes to get into the swing of things. The men were all sexually generous, and I think even Thor was surprised at his receptiveness. I saw his face as Andy popped off in his ass. Doug licked up Andy's cum as it drooled from Thor's ass. Thor and I were in the 69 position so I could see Doug's tongue licking and I could taste Thor's reaction.
I also noticed that Thor and Dulaney seemed to hit it off. Dulaney and I were both what Templeton referred to as being "not conventionally attractive," but Dulaney was more so than even me. I didn't think Thor was faking it. He enjoyed Dulaney's tight ass.
The next day I introduced Thor to Edward. They bonded immediately. Obscure art historical scams and tenuous lead were meat and potatoes for Edward. Difficult and challenging were word that excited him. Thor provided new names to investigate and Edward liked that. Thor appreciated obscure men who would cause no alarm to his suspects. He had few American connections. Edward had no connection to the major law enforcement operations working on looted art in Europe.
Templeton arrived on Friday night with some friends to celebrate the end of the summer. Technically it wasn't the end of the summer, but Templeton rarely needed an excuse to entertain friends. The friends included Roger and Clay who liked Thor a lot.
Amy called and asked if I would come over. She had found something. She had discovered the Pirates of the Chesapeake book a week before. She had been to the local library and asked if they had additional information about the book.
The librarian didn't know anything about it, but one of the volunteers, Miss Mayberry, knew a lot. She knew the author's daughter. When she died, she gave her mother's notes to the library. Miss Mayberry also knew where they were stored. There was a file cabinet labeled special collections, and the notes were there.
Amy had the good fortune to be intelligent and polite and the opened the file and found the notes on the Blackbeard. The owners of the house had buried the family silver in 1779 to avoid a British raid during the Revolution. The family fled the site and returned in 1782 and recovered the silver. The family slaves left with the British. There were no slaves on the plantation when they recovered the treasure.
The plantation returned to normal and bought new slaves. The new slaves heard stories about the burial of the treasure, but there were no stories of the recovery. Thus, the story of buried treasure began to grow. That story inspired the book with the addition of Blackbeard.
[BW1]