Catfish Looks for Loot 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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When I returned to the Old Planation Gallery I had a feeling that if I had returned five minutes later, I would have found Sonny and Townsend in a compromising position. Townsend said he would make a choice after he had a chance to sleep on it. We left for our hotel.
We were booked into a fancy hotel, in order to be consistent with my sugar daddy act. "There was one adequate American primitive there, the rest were shit," Townsend said. "Did you find out anything?"
"As a matter of fact, Grant is the artist who makes the antique paintings. He has a nice tight ass and a good attitude to boot!" I said.
"I wasn't good about pretending to like the paintings, but Sonny was real interested in me," Townsend said. "We had a little playtime and then Sonny let me know I had better buy some paintings, or somehow you might find out. I assume it is a blackmail scam. Betty would usually take care of the husband, while his wife looked at paintings. It seems to be a rare blackmail-art forgery thing." He looked at me and then asked, "Was he any good?"
"I think he can paint, he's an expert bottom," I replied. "How was Sonny?"
"You know I'm not much on old guys. He's an old queen who thinks he is still hot stuff," Townsend said.
"Be careful, I'm an old guy," I said.
"You are not much like Sonny," Townsend said. "Actually, you aren't all at like Sonny, thank you Jesus! You and Toby are real men, not posers."
"Why Townsend, I thought you just liked my cock," I said mock seriously.
"Well, I love your cock, but somehow my affection is spreading to the rest of your body. I used to be turned off by body hair. I used to be turned off by uncut cocks. All of that is in my past," he said. "Getting down to business, what is Grant's role in this scam?"
"I'm not positive, but I think he's the classic starving artist type who found a steady income source," I said. "He ain't a criminal mastermind. Is Sonny the boss?"
"He might be, but I think he is more likely a low level con man," Townsend replied. "He doesn't strike me as a leader of men. Betty is a more likely candidate for the boss position. Sonny let it slip that she owns the place. She was a nurse who married an older man who conveniently died. She has done that twice."
"Was foul play a possibility?" I asked.
"Sonny said it was more a case of careful selection," he explained. "There was no need to kill them, nature just took its course. She was also good about the wills. She got the cash, the other heirs the tangible property etc. one of her husbands had an art collection that turned out to be mostly bogus. She realized that she got the lion's share of the estate because the cash was real and the paintings weren't. I think she saw an opportunity."
"Sonny was a car salesman, before he met Betty. This is a big step up for him. He's pretentious and working in a gallery is a lot better than selling Fords, especially at the gay bars!" Townsend continued. We talked for a while longer and then went to bed.
When I woke up the next morning, Townsend was looking at me. "Did I insult you yesterday when I was talking about sex?" he asked.
"No, I know the score," I replied. "I like sex even if it isn't sunsets and long walks on the beach."
"I am relieved. I used to think of you as an acquaintance, "he said. "Now that I know you better you are a friend."
"With benefits, I hope," I said.
He smiled. "I hope you know the benefits are not just sexual. This whole thing with the Hirsh Collection has made my reputation. Your work is a major part of that. Are you sure you don't want credit for your part of the investigation?" he asked.
"I like it when no one knows I am working on a case. If I go public, I can't do my job. Maybe you could add a line to my obituary," I explained. "To tell you the truth, a nice thank you trip up your ass might be nice."
"I am horny as shit," he said. I had fucked Townsend before, but by now he was seasoned. He had a muscular ass and knew how to keep it both tight and welcoming. I put lube on my cock and eased it into his tight pucker. My cock was slightly bigger than was perfect for him. His chute was barely big enough for his prostate and my cock. that made him tense, but he always relaxed once I was completely embedded in his hole. I jiggled slightly, massaging his prostate as my knob rubbed the deep parts of his fuck hole.
Once and a while I would give him a hard deep thrust. I knew that if I gave him five thrusts or six thrust he would have a hands free orgasm. I usually gave him three or four pokes. That got him near the orgasm, but not there. He got a to the point of begging me to get him off. I am not cruel, but I sort of liked that.
He was on his back, spread eagled on the bed. I gave him six thrusts. I felt his ass contract it began the ejaculation. I pulled out, dropped to my knees and sucked his spewing cock. I took his cum, and then stood up and fucked him again. I began shooting as soon as my cock was past his sphincter. I ejaculated as I pushed into him, evenly coating his cum tunnel with my sperm. An ejaculation can only be so bad, but this one as absolutely top-of-the-line. It must have worked for Townsend too. He ejaculated more of his ball juices as he felt me shoot.
That morning we visited other galleries in Savanna. We struck pay dirt at the Ashley & Cooper Galleries. It was a branch of a Charleston gallery, thus the odd name. The manager, Rutledge, was an old queen who like to gossip. He knew all about Betty and her scam. Rutledge knew everyone and had heard several estates which had been found to be much diminished when they went to probate. Betty had an affinity for older men and helped them build up their art collections.
Betty's boyfriend was a no-account lawyer, who became unexpectedly wealthy. Rutledge tended the think the worst anyway, but he noticed that the lawyer's wealth seemed to increase as the estates diminished. The lawyer was from a good old family and he handled the estates.
The lawyer also hired the appraisers. They said they were under estimating the value of the art work as a favor to the heirs. Recently, several paintings were sent off to auction and failed be sold. The auctioneers said the paintings were suspect. Curiously there was no record of the purchase of the paintings found. The checkbook had vanished.
In most cases the deceased was very elderly and the heirs were no spring chickens. The estate could take years to settle. The trail was cold and the memories fading before anyone suspected a problem. This was a complicated and complex scam. It took time, but Betty had a knack for finding old men. Rutledge was suspicious, but he had little hard evidence.
We went back to see Betty, Grant and Sonny. Townsend pretended he wanted to buy. I asked if there was a report on the painting provenance. That put a damper on the proceedings. I said that I had called my financial advisor, and he had told me to get a report or an outside expert's examination before I bought anything. Sonny said he would look for the documentation and let us know when he found it.
Townsend asked if we could put a hold on the paintings until we got the information. Betty told us the demand for paintings was strong, and she couldn't do that. Townsend seemed disappointed. He was a better actor than I had guessed.
A week later Betty called and said she had the documentation. I asked her to scan it and send it to my e-mail account. She said that was fine. Toby had been through in his preparations. I had a fake address and an e-mail account in my false name.
The documents arrived and I forwarded them to Toby and Townsend. Townsend called me the next day. The documents were false, but well done. He had checked on several of the galleries and previous owners. They were either out of business or dead. The names were good; the galleries were real; the dates were wrong. We were on the way to Savanna the next weekend. Saturday afternoon we were at the gallery. Townsend was with Sonny and I went off to have another beer with Grant.
This time I was in Grant's ass five minutes after I was in his apartment. Grant told me that he wasn't exactly virginal, but my cock had sent him places he had never been before. he spent nearly an hour revisiting those places that afternoon. When I finally pulled out and let him cool down, he wanted to talk.
"I need to tell you something. Those painting you are buying are fake. I painted them or altered them to look like antiques," Grant confessed. "It started as a joke. I used to paint fake masterpieces to give to my friends. Betty got her hands on one and asked me to paint more. I was living in Charleston at the time. I had been doing it for a year when I came here and discovered she was selling them a genuine antiques."
"Did you confront her?" I asked.
"Sort off," he said.
I smiled, "What exactly does sort of mean?" I asked.
"I complained and she offered me $600.00 per painting. She also said she would turn in in as a forger. I'm usually dead broke. It was so much money for me at the time," he explained. "I'm in too deep now."
"She is asking big bucks for the paintings now, we are talking heavy duty fraud," I said. "You need to get out of it somehow."
By then, Townsend had already bought the painting. That turned the charges from being attempted fraud to fraud. That was what we need to put Betty in jail. My FBI connection in the Hirsh case was still good and they had kept the local police up to date on the Savanna case. I suggested that Grant go the police a make a plea deal. He was just a foot soldier and Betty was the leader.
As Townsend left the gallery, the police were waiting. When he gave the signal, the swooped in and made arrests. Townsend came to Grant's apartment and I went with him to the police station. I explained that he had told me about the scheme and was willing to testify. Sonny had been part of the scheme, but he had information about Betty's dealing with old men and their estates. Betty had consistently treated both Grant and Sonny like dirt. There was no love lost and the information they gave the police was good. Sonny knew about her bank accounts in the Cayman Islands, complete with account numbers.
Apparently Betty had been saving the money until she had enough to leave Savanna and go to a nation that had no extradition treaty. The police were overjoyed that that could recover the money and make restitution. Both Grant and Sonny avoided jail time.
We met with Toby when we returned to Richmond; he was pleased. He knew that his wife had been cheated. He was unaware that there was the effort to defraud the estates of the victims. All was well.
The news of the partial recovery of the Hirsh Collection made national news that week. My name was not mentioned, nor was Toby's role. The Museum received favorable publicity and Townsend was singled out for praise.
While the story was out, the details were not revealed. The Europeans were hoping the news release might stir the pot. They hoped that the holders of looted art would try to convert the works into cash before they were discovered. I suspected that most of them underestimated the persistence of obsessive investigators.
Toby was both rich and generous. Eubank was unemployed and Jerry was under employed. Toby gave them jobs at one of his warehouses. These were day jobs complete with benefits.
I accidentally met Jerry a few weeks later at a convenience store in Richmond. Jerry saw his Durer drawing on the front page of the newspaper. "Was that my drawing?" he asked. I said it was.
"Were you after it?"
"I ran into it accidentally. I had no idea what it was," I explained. "I was after Eubank's boss and the stolen paintings."
"Was it worth a lot?" he asked. I nodded.
"How much?"
"No one really knows. A drawing like that hasn't come up for sale in decades," I said. "A friend of mine said at an auction they might start bidding at ten to twenty."
Jerry interrupted me, "Thousand?"
"No, it would be ten to twenty million," I said.
"Shit, I had it on my wall!" he exclaimed.
"You treated it well, it was in good condition," I said. They were stolen, I figured you wouldn't want the police to roll up and take them. I would have cleared you from any charges, but a police raid is never good."
"I understand. I'm glad I didn't spill any coffee on it," Jerry said. He leaned closer to me and whispered. "Did you fuck me to get the picture?"
"I only fuck for pleasure, never for business," I said. "Maybe I should say almost never for business. You are a nice guy and it was good, really good."
"It was good for me; I didn't expect it to be that good," he said. I noticed his pants were tenting.
"I live nearby, would you like a cup of coffee?" I asked.
"I'd love it but I'm with Eubank, Eddie and his Uncle Freddy," he said.
"Do you have a problem with group play?" I asked.
"Shit no, I'll ask if they are interested," Jerry replied. I guessed they would be interested and I was right. When I was younger I had been in a few wild Redneck orgies. I wondered if they were as good as I had remembered.
We went to my apartment and they were most impressed by my bathroom. It was a tropical fantasy in colored tiles. The man who had owned my building had been a tile setter, and one of his clients decided she didn't want the tile anyway. He was stuck with the tile and used in what eventually became my apartment. The shower was oversized and could hold six if they didn't mind being close. It was pretty and gave everyone an excuse to get naked and shower.
In a gym or locker room shower, men are usually pretty cagy about checking out the other guys' equipment. That wasn't a problem here at all. Uncle Freddy just got on his knees and sucked anything that came in range. He was surprisingly limber when he was hunting cock. As far as I could tell everyone was versatile and willing.
With six men, the number of options increased, and all were willing to explore the possibilities. The doorbell rang. It was Townsend with Derrick, Scott and Grant. They were visiting him for the weekend. I told them I was in the middle of an orgy and it was a bad time. Derrick asked if there was room for three more participants. I said sure and they joined in the group.
I wasn't sure how the arty types would get along with the rednecks. These were ten men with sixty to seventy inches of cock. We could work something out. I was soon reminded that erect cocks are first rate icebreakers when meeting complete strangers. Even Townsend got into the scene quickly and with enthusiasm. Uncle Freddy's sucking skills worked their magic on Townsend's cock.
The shower was really crowded and would have caused accidental body contact anyway. We were almost packed like sardines. Derrick's erect cock was rubbing my ass crack. We wiggled around a little and his cock poked at my hole. I relaxed a little and his cock slid into me. Derrick was taller than I am and he stood up, forcing his cock deeper. He held me tight, but my feet weren't touching the floor. I was mostly supported by his cock. Uncle Freddy took that opportunity to suck me.
Uncle Freddy was a master sucker. Derrick bounced me some giving my prostate a hard rub every time he bounced. I thought I was going to shoot off, but I was able to hold off. At first everyone seemed to pair off, but pairs began to merge with other pairs. Soon, every mouth, ass and cock was in play.
In one-on-one sex the action slows when one of you shoots off. It takes some time to recharge and some men fall asleep. With ten men there was always a certain percentage of men who were still in play. Even men who had already shot off, might watch other men going at it and be re-inspired.
Townsend, the most reserved man in the group, asked if any one there had been in a chain fuck. Uncle Freddy and I were the only ones. "I've been in a chain fuck twice. At one party six of us got in a line and fucked each other," Freddy explained. "Another time we had a round robin sort of thing. After we started, the man at the head of the line pulled out and then picked a guy he wanted to fuck and got back into the chain. There were a lot of unexpected combinations."
"The guy got to fuck the man he wanted, but he also was fucked by the man behind in the line," he added.
"That could be a problem," Derrick said.
"Most of the guys were good sports. They knew the rules," Freddy said. "Let's just say we were all better sports afterwards."
"How did it end?" Townsend asked.
"We broke apart and I volunteered to be a cum-dump. We had a nice gang bang and everyone got off," he said. "It had one bad aspect."
"What was that?" I asked.
"I completely lost my ability to pretend to be a virgin after that," he said. "I did have a great time." Everyone laughed.
"Did it have a happy ending for all of the men?" Scott asked.
"Well, we just kept at it until we popped and pulled out of the chain," he said. "I have pretty good staying power. I was next to the last. I had four loads in me." He paused. "It was strange, I thought it would be like a production-line gangbang. The last guy who fucked me said it was kind of romantic. His cock was floating in a sea of his pals' spooge, and my ass was caressing his tool."
"It sounds messy," Townsend said.
"Shit, it sounds great to me," Jerry said. That was the general opinion. We were all game, including Townsend, and while it took some work, all of us connected cock to ass. I was between Eubank and Jerry at first. Scott was at the head of the line with Grant in his ass. Much to my surprise, when he pulled out he went to do Eubank. He whispered to me that he was a bit tight. I had opened Eubank well. Grant had done a good job lubricating Scott's ass. He was tight, but not too tight. There was one rough spot. I asked if it was too much; he whispered no. He was fine.
I gave Scott a hard thrust and was in. Grant was not overly committed to the truth. He was supposed to get out of the train when he shot off. He stayed in after he had shot off in Scott's ass and once I popped the sphincter, his cum lubricated the way, Scott was a happy man.
A little later, I had rotated to the rear of Scott. I gave him a real hard thrust and Scott couldn't hide his orgasm. He was in Jerry, who appreciated Scott's load. I made sure Scott was completely drained, before I pulled out. I slipped easily into Jerry's cum filled ass.
Eventually three of us were left. I was in the middle with Townsend in my ass as I took care of Uncle Freddy. I felt Townsend shoot. He had never cum in me before, I lost control and let loose in Uncle Freddy. He shot off. For a brief moment we were ejaculating together.