Catfish & Company 11
By Bald Hairy Man
Email, bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com, The Excite address doesn't work any more.
This is an adult story for adults. It is not intended for minors, nor for persons who are offended by alternate life styles. If you are offended, Don't Read the story! There is no effort expended to make this story realistic or depict safe sex practices. This story is a fantasy, not a sex manual.
When my cock slipped into Bobby's waiting ass, Mark's and Vince's cum oozed out of the tight space between my rock hard cock and Bobby's stretched ass hole. It was like when you bite into a cream filled donut and the cream spurts out. Bobby had been royally fucked twice, but was just as enthusiastic with me in his ass.
Bobby didn't mind a little mess, when it comes to fucking. There was cum, precum and ass juices, all intermingled in his ass. I think his hole might have been tight a few hours before. He had been tenderized and by this time, he was wide open. The inside of his chute was hot and juicy. My cock floated on a sea of cum. Butch and Bubba joined me. What we were doing looked good to them, so we all shared his ass. As soon as I got ready to shoot, I would pull out and let one of them replace me. We would trade off and Bobby was in a perpetual motion fucking machine. Bobby was in heaven, as he was continuously fucked for a half hour by the three of us.
Eventually, I miscalculated and began to cum. I pulled out of Bobby's ass and much to my surprise, found Skeeter sucking my load straight from the spigot. Skeeter is a cum hound. Butch and Bubba shot off in Bobby's ass. When Bubba finished, Skeeter took his place, holding Bobby's legs open for another fucking. I thought Skeeter was going to take up topping. He didn't. He got on his knees and rimmed Bobby while holding Bobby's legs open. As the cum oozed from the ravaged hole, Skeeter lapped it up.
Skeeter was almost tender in the way he licked the man seed as it emerged. It was a cum hounds dream come true. I was beside Skeeter and stroked his cock as he licked. I had never seen him so hard. It only took a few stokes to make him cum, but he never lost a lick, even during his orgasm.
I may never win the Mother Theresa's Award for service to humanity, but teaching Karl how to fuck his lover Bob was a real service. They had been together for years and this new expanded repertoire of sex acts, changed their lives for the good. They both loved it. Actually, the perpetual motion fucking machine was a good idea too.
After a night like that, you would think the next day would be a let down. This was the day of the big memorial service at the Cathedral. There was a march from the outlying churches in the neighborhood to the Cathedral, where there would be a city wide service. I was up early, when I got a call from Elinor. She said, there was no police protection for the march and service.
Usually the city blankets a district with police whenever there is a march, or parade. I called the Police Headquarters and asked what was up. They said the parade and service weren't official city functions, so there was going to be no police presence. This was a newly minted policy from the Mayor's office. I told the dispatcher that most of the fucking dead were police and fire personnel. She hung up on me. I called Butch, Roosevelt, Fred and Vince. They raced to the office. Vince made a few calls and got the Police Union to call their members and get off duty officers on the scene. He got the fire department to do the same. At least there would be some uniformed men in attendance.
Fifteen minutes later Earl called.
"Catfish. Slim called and said, there was a late night meeting at Wally's house. Slim passed the house accidentally and saw them load up a Van with boxes. It was about three in the morning and they took off." the sheriff said. "He followed them to Richmond. They're in a Brown GMC van. Wally, Ovid and Bert were in the van with another guy Slim didn't recognize. Slim was off duty so didn't have a radio or cell phone. He lost them when he called me from a 7-11."
"Did he know where they were headed?"
"Toward downtown." Earl said. I told Earl to give Slim my number and we could outfit him with all the communication devices he needed.
"What is the licence number?" I asked.
"Obscured." Earl said. "Covered in mud. It's a `94 GMC van."
"How many boxes?"
"Six, normal sized, packing boxes. They were carrying them as if they were heavy." Earl said. He hung up.
Guys were beginning to show up at our office. Our internet man reported, the sickos were writing about false prophets and false religion. That was a bad sign. We alerted everyone to look out for a Van. I wanted to get out and start looking. Butch and Vince were the organizational types. I'm a field man. I took a group of our men over to the march site and we began to sweep the area for suspicious persons and objects.
A half hour later Butch drove by and gave me a dog. Killerpoo was the oddest animal I had ever seen. It must have been a Cock-a-Poo-Bassett mix. He was a bomb sniffer replacement for Roger, who had been killed at the bombing. The dog was half nose and half cock. He was very friendly. I got a radio message the van was at the Science Museum, three blocks away. I raced over there.
When I got there, Slim was waiting. He had found it. It was locked, the mud on the plates was paint. It took about a minute to get in the van. Killerpoo went bonkers the minute he sniffed the interior. There had been explosives in the van. I ran to my car and called 911, telling them there was a probable bombing in the works. That got their attention. The men had left a jacket in the Van. Slim gave Killerpoo a sniff and the mutt was off. Police cars, fire trucks and EMS trucks began to converge on the site. The dog cared for nothing but the scent.
I was racing after Slim and Killerpoo. There apparently was a very clear scent and the dog was a tracking wonder. Three minutes later, the dog stopped at a trash can. He went crazy again. It was in a narrow alley, between the closely packed house,s along the route of the march. I called the police and told them where we were. An ATF Van arrived in a minute and a half. Killerpoo wasn't finished yet. The trail continued.
Three blocks away we found another box. This was shoved under a pick up truck. That truck was parked in front of a big Presbyterian church, also on the line of the march. The city Police arrived for that one. I called the office and told them I thought the bombs were placed along the march route. We were following one of the bombers, but there were three other men possibly dispensing bombs.
A reporter and camera crew from a local station intercepted us. Slim gave them a quick and concise description of the men. He said, we had found two bombs and there were at least four more. All were in plain brown boxes. He said, he guessed they were set to go off in an hour or so, to explode during the march. I was off on the hunt with Killerpoo and two of our operatives.
I found out later that Roosevelt was interviewed after Slim and said, people should look over their own property to see if there were any boxes around. This was a big city neighborhood, maybe twenty thousand people. A minute after the live report, a good ten thousand of them must have gone out looking.
A group of college students captured Wally. He wouldn't tell them anything about the bombs, but they changed his mind for him. One of the students later told the television his knife accidentally slipped and cut off one of Wally's fingers. Wally understood the lay of the land and he told them the bombs were set to go off at one fifteen, there were only six bombs and there was no radio control. He also told them where he planted a bomb.
A group of enraged neighbors captured Bert. He was trying to vanish into a group of Presbyterians as they fled from their church. It was evacuated after we discovered the bomb in the front yard. He apparently was as unconvincing as a Presbyterian as a man could be. Sporting a dirty tee shirt, jeans and having a furtive look, is not the way to blend into an upscale Protestant population.
You would think it would be better to be captured by the Presbyterians and their neighbors than the College students. Bert didn't need to have any fingers sewed back on at least, but Bert clearly knew the error of his ways by the time the police took custody, or more correctly, rescued him. There were still two bombers and two bombs missing.
Killerpoo was still game, so apparently our bomber was still at large. The trail went down the street toward the Cathedral, past the bombed Temple. We had 24 hour security at the bombed Temple area, so there were no bombs there. The students had found a second bomb in the park, across the street from the Cathedral. There was a six-block gap between the bombs. Killerpoo took a left turn and went away from the march site. One bomb and two bombers were missing.
We raced across streets and through alleys. Ahead was a Hardee's with Ovid, sitting under an umbrella, drinking a coke with a brown box on the seat next to him. We arrested him.
"You can't arrest me!" He said. "I'm doing God's work."
"What a fucking asshole!" Ellen said. Ellen was our token lesbian and as hard as nails. I couldn't have said it better myself.
"We have Wally and Burt. Who is the fourth man?" I asked.
"There isn't a fourth man." Ovid said. Ellen smacked him in the balls. Ovid turned white.
"Tell the nice man what he wants to know." Ellen said. "We got no time for polite chitchat." She got ready to smack him again.
"It's Sally. She had to prove herself." Ovid said. Sally was Buddy's wife.
"Shit." I said. The Police arrived and we didn't have a chance to question him anymore. Ovid tried to claim police brutality, but none of the eyewitnesses saw anything, including me. As soon as I could, I called Buddy and told him to go to a judge and get his kids. There was big trouble. I called Mom and Earl too. Earl had warrants and court orders ready and was ready to rescue the children and search the Victory Temple.
The whole thing was covered live on national television, so everyone knew what was going on. Slim and Killerpoo were heroes and three of the bombers were captured. There was no direct evidence against the Victory Temple itself, or the preacher who was behind it. It was non-stop interviews and reports for the next six hours. The march was postponed to four in the afternoon. 100,000 people came to it and it went off without an incident.
It was a great success, but I was worried. We had all the bombs and three of the bombers. Sally had escaped and there was no way to guess the mental state of a rural house wife turned terrorist. She was obviously off the deep end.
Elinor gave a great speech, reaffirming real American values of tolerance and openness. The Bishop gave a brief sermon on why Jesus didn't use a bomb. I got back to my apartment at 9:00, exhausted, but too tired to go to bed.
I tried to call my Mom, but she wasn't home. I guessed she was with cousin Buddy and his kids. Mark showed up with two six packs. That hit the spot. We sat back and watched cable news. At 10:30 the phone rang. It was Mom, the kids were safe. They had been locked up in a trailer to "protect" them from the evils of the world. They were malnourished, but fine. Mom was taking care of the malnourished problem. Buddy was a nice guy, but not a cook. She had been cooking for the last few hours and was going back the next morning to get Buddy's house "regular".
"You did well dear." she said. "We saw it all on the TV." She paused. "They are the small fry, aren't they?"
"That would be my guess, Mom."
"Do you think Wally and his crew will incriminate the Preacher." she asked.
"I don't know. If I was doing the questioning they would." I said.
"I assume he's protected himself. That kind always do." Mom said. "Your Aunts Becky and Ellen are here. We agreed if we were doing the questioning, we would get to the bottom of it too."
"Thumbscrews and the rack?" I asked laughing.
"We are dealing with a murderous maniac here. He finds weak people and has them do his dirty work." Mom said, seriously. "You be careful, but he must be stopped." She hung up.
There was an edge I heard in her voice. She was worried about something. I would call Earl in the morning and get a fuller version of the goings on at home. Mark was ready for bed. I was too tired for sex I thought.
I got in bed and Mark got in with me. He started sucking and wanted to 69. That was difficult, because he was so much taller than me. I gave it a try and his cock and tongue worked their magic. I fell asleep after a climax and woke up the next morning with him still sucking. I don't know if he sucked all night.
I sucked him to full erection. I got him close several times, then sat on his cock. You really feel close to a guy when he has 10 inches of cock in your ass. I spent a good fifteen minutes twitching and squirming on his love pole until he popped and rear loaded me. I fell asleep again with his cock still in my ass. When I woke at 7:00 he was making breakfast. It was a real breakfast, all eggs and bacon. We were sitting naked at the breakfast table, when Butch and Roosevelt came upstairs from the office below.
"You boys been playing?" Butch asked.
"We sure have. Cum is a great sleeping potion." Mark replied. "It's a good waker upper too."
"I used a damn alarm clock!" Roosevelt said. "Would you like a quick roll in the hay, or are too bushed to play?" Butch was already unbuttoning his shirt, so I guess he anticipated our reply. Roosevelt was unzipping.
"I need to think some about that." Mark said. He wasn't very convincing as his cock was already well beyond half staff. "I've never tried dark meat before." Roosevelt had his cock out by this time. It was impressive. Mark smiled as he looked at the large dong. "I guess I might as well try it. At least I'm starting at the top." Roosevelt laughed.
"Don't worry White Boy! My cum is as white as yours!" I was 69ing with Butch and we left Mark and Roosevelt alone to get acquainted. Roosevelt is a real handsome man, gym fit and well groomed. Mark is kind of goofy looking. He looked as if he never combed his hair, but possessed a monster, uncut dick of a good 8 to 9 inches. I didn't think Mark was Roosevelt's type, but big dicks can make friends fast, if you have that taste. Roosevelt obviously did.
I lost track of things when Butch's cock began to ooze big time. This morning his precum was almost intoxicating. When I looked up the next time, Mark was easing his cock into Roosevelt's chute. I thought he was a top, but Mark's cock must have inspired him. Butch and I went over to help them out.
I knew Butch and Roosevelt were lovers. They were both handsome, very macho men. Roosevelt craved monster cocks and Butch was only above average. I was worried at first, but realized Mark had the cock Roosevelt liked, but nothing else. It was pure sex and curiosity and Mark was no threat to Butch's relationship with Roosevelt. Several weeks later Butch told me Roosevelt had mentioned Mark's dick and admired it. Our meeting this morning wasn't accidental.
Mark is no brain surgeon material, but he must have sensed Roosevelt's ass wasn't experienced. He was careful and tender as he worked it in.
"Relax baby. You can take it all!" Butch said to Roosevelt as he caressed the black man's sweating brow. "It hurts now but you'll love it when the whole thing is in all the way." Roosevelt was sweating like a pig and shivering as Mark relentlessly worked his cock deep into the quivering tunnel. I guessed they were "no pain, no gain" men and they liked the struggle to fit the cock in Roosevelt's ass.
Roosevelt's cock was rock hard and pointing up, dribbling precum. I licked it and cleaned his cock head. More oozed as soon as I finished. I licked that up too, then kissed Butch. That turned Butch on big time. He leaned over to get some of Roosevelt's cock cream for himself and I took the opportunity to ease my cock into his ass. Both Butch and Roosevelt were normally tops, but they were in a bottom mood this morning.
Butch arranged himself, so that Roosevelt could suck him while he was sucking Roosevelt. Butch normally fought an intruder in his ass, but not this time. There was no resistance as my dick rammed his prostate. Roosevelt had a front row, center view of that and must have been inspired. Mark let out a sigh of satisfaction as the last three inches of his cock lodged in the black man's ass.
He stood still for a while, than began pumping. We double teamed them. When Mark was in, I was pulling out. We built up speed and all four of us popped within a minute. It was good. The phone rang. It was Earl. There was more trouble at the Victory Temple.