Catfish Goes to School 8
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 guys settled down to plain old free-for-all sex. I had very publicly and successfully fucked Newton and I wondered if anyone else would step up to the plate. I knew they were all curious, but there is a gap between curiosity and opening your ass for my cock.
Newton had sucked and fucked his way into the club and was as happy as he could be. He was in deep conversation with Jason. I was on the bed with Harvey and a guy named Dewey. I massaged their prostates and talked.
"How did the Honey & Cream Society come into existence?" I asked.
"Well, it's not an officially sanctioned club of St. Thomas's, as you may have guessed," Dewey said. "Joey and Jason hooked up first. Joey's parents owned this house. They are loaded. Jason ran into me and we have added new members when we find someone."
"I'm the most recent addition until Newton," Harvey said. "I knew Dave."
"Is Gerald the only adult who hits on boys at the school?"
"Yes, as far as I can tell," Dave said. "Some may be into it, but they are careful to avoid the potential for problems. I guess if anyone knows of any funny business, it would be us."
"We are all, wealthy, well educated at risk kids here," Harvey said, "Most of us have absentee parents, or our parents have remarried so many times we can't remember who is the stepmother du jour. The school provides a quiet, dependable and orderly place. Sucking off a teacher is not part of the scheme."
"But sucking a fellow student is?"
"As long as it's done privately its fine," Dave said. "Some guys are anti gay, but that is more in public than after the lights are out. They say gay sex is ritualized in some English schools. That is not true here. It's purely private at St. Thomas's."
By now my fingers gentle massage of the boys' prostates had an effect. Dewey's nut turned rock hard and shot off, Roman candle style. Joel was watching and he took it.
"Leave some for me!" Harvey exclaimed. He leaned over and shared the creamy man seed. Dewey twitched as Harvey's lips touched his cock. They were close. Joey was bent over and his ass was open. In this group that wasn't by accident. I quickly lubricated my cock and nosed it in the open orifice.
I wasn't horny, but I wanted to see how he would react to taking my dong. He tensed up for a second or two and then relaxed. Relax isn't t he right word, he opened. First time bottoms are often told to pretend they are talking a shit to accommodate the invader. That is exactly what Joey did. When I saw what he was doing, I took the invitation and went for the gold.
Unless I was very mistaken, he had lubricated his love chute well. My curly pubic hairs tickled his ass ring a second later. I went way deep. He was winded and dazed, but not in pain at all. The rest of the club gathered around to watch and encourage.
"Do some long strokes and see what he does," Jason suggested. "Damn, that's hot!"
"Let's let him catch his breath first," I said. "He's dazed now. I want him to know what's going on." Jason told me Joey rarely bottomed.
"He has such a small hole, I didn't guess he would be able to take it," Dave said. Joey squeezed his sphincter, so I made a jiggling motion. He moaned. After making a few two or three inch thrusts, he relaxed some. I had found the groove. I eventually got him on his back and spread eagled.
"Damn, I've never seen anyone so naked," Newton said.
"Naked men have so secrets," I said. "My cock is not a toy; it's a tool that goes deep and messes with your mind as well as your ass. If you like to look calm, cool and collected with every hair in place don't fuck with me. I like it hot, sweaty and no holds barred." Joey popped just then and I pulled out.
Jason saw the open hole and slipped in as I exited. My dong had dilated Joey's hole so it was easy. As soon as Joey's sphincter clamped on Jason's cock, Jason moaned and began to shiver and shake. Jason had very vocal ejaculations. Joey had an almost angelic smile on his face and his final ejaculations merge with Jason's spurts.
"Did you shoot off?" a young man I hadn't been introduced to asked me. He had been one of the first to shoot in Newton's mouth, but had hung around in the background mostly. He watched but didn't talk.
"Not yet," I answered. "I don't need to cum, but if anyone wants to take my cock for a spin, I won't object. What's your name, by the way?"
"I'm Sam, Samuel Dunnington Smith III."
"Is the third important," I asked.
"To my Dad it is," he said while smiling slightly. "He wanted a male heir. Unfortunately, he didn't have any interest in having a child. He was married just long enough to have an heir and get custody." Sam was a bland looking young man with a runner's body. It turned out I was wrong about that; he had a swimmer body. The men were all twinks except for Harvey. Sam was actually furry from head to toe, but you couldn't see it. His hair was so blond it was all but white. I reached out and fondled his cock. It was long and thin. He was uncut, but the skin was pulled back. His knob was pretty and pink.
"Is your dad into men?" I asked.
He nodded. "One of his playmates introduced me to man sex. I was a pretty boy and they all liked me."
"Was it bad?"
"I wasn't attracted to him at all, but it wasn't terrible," Sam replied. "I was pleased by the attention. It's sad when you are willing to have sex with a guy just to connect with anyone other than a paid servant. The guy got me in St. Thomas'. He was one of Dad's big time clients, and Dad sent me here to please him."
"That sounds pretty odd," I remarked.
"Well, Freddy was an old guy and very drunk when he fucked me. When he woke up the next morning, he was in shock when he realized what he had done. I know they all claim to be drunk, and didn't know what they were doing, but I believe him. He was in tears begging me forgiveness. I still see him and he has never laid a finger on me since. I've never seen him with boy. He had his own sons and they are close," Sam said. "He warned me about Gerrald. He knows about him and didn't like what he heard."
"Gerald seems to be a famous man," I observed.
"Freddy says Gerald inherited everything he had and still thinks he's a self made man. He tries to run things but you get tired of him real quickly. Apparently now he just makes his own organizations, and is the only member, so he sure to be the Chairman of the Board."
Sam went off to talk with Joey and Harvey joined me. He seemed nervous and I guessed he wanted to try out my cock. "Do you think it will fit?" I asked him.
"Are you a mind reader?" he asked. "I don't know if it will fit. I'm afraid you would get in half way and it will hurt too much. You could split me in half."
"I've never ripped anyone in half yet," I replied. "To tell you the truth I hate getting half way in and having a guy change his mind, but I could make an exception for you."
"Are you serious about that?"
"I am," I explained. "You are my type, I wouldn't mind giving you a tune up, changing all your fluids and maybe a buff and shine." Harvey didn't exactly say he would take my cock, but when I took the lead, he followed. I had fingered his ass good shortly before and I knew his prostate was in working order. I figured if his my cock head could just meet the little gland, all would be well. His ass tensed up the second my knob touched it.
I just added some lubricant to my head and kept the pressure up. "Did Geald get you?" I asked.
"Nope, he likes them more boyish than me," Harvey said. "I was hairy even in my sophomore year, so I was out of his comfort zone. A friend of his got me though."
"Who was that?" I asked.
"I was a guy called the Priest. He was Gerald's spiritual advisor," Harvey said. "He use to lecture here a few times a year. He lived in Bryn Mawr near my parents. Rev. Wilmot Duquesne wasn't my cup of tea, but I was desperate to have sex with someone. I was supposed to be doing a special study project with him and I had to drop it off at the school guest house where he was staying. He was showering and the rest you can guess. I will say he definitely did not apologize afterwards."
"Was he abusive?" I asked. "Other than getting his rocks off with an underage boy?"
Harvey smiled. "He wasn't big enough to be that abusive," he replied. As he said that, he relaxed and my knob popped his sphincter. He moaned and said, "Shit, you're big!"
"Am I too big?" I asked. I pulled out, added some lubricant and went back.
"That's better," he whispered.
"My cock head is in you. We can stop here, or I can go deeper," I said. "The choice is yours." I didn't push any deeper, but maintained the pressure. If he relaxed I would ease in. Dave came over.
"Damn, aren't you the brave one?" he said. He flopped is soft cock on Harvey's lips and tweaked his tits. Harvey relaxed and my cock slid in deep enough to ram his prostate. He had lost his erection when I popped his sphincter. Now he was fully erect again. I rubbed my cock head against the little gland and Harvey's eyes glazed. He was moaning in pleasure. A second later, his ass lost all desire to resist. I pulled out so only the drooling tip of my cock was at his hole, the made a deep trust. He growled.
He didn't resist, but his ass was still firm and it was a tight fit. His ass linings were shrink-wrapped to my cock. You can't get any closer to a man than fucking him, but Harvey and I bonded. It was as if his ass wanted to swallow my cock and keep me in him. I had lubricated him well, so no matter how hard he tried to grab my cock, I could still fuck.
I hoped for a long ride, we were both willing and eager, but wild and crazy sex is always self limiting. I had a lot of activity with Newton and Joey but was still fully loaded. That changed in a split second. I was surprised my man seed wasn't spurting out of his mouth I shot so much. He popped too and our audience all got a party favor of his sperm. I tend to shoot ribbons of sperm; Harvey shot like bird shot from a shotgun. Everyone one was sprayed.
I had to leave, but the rest of them men settled down for a long night of orgasms. As I walked home Calhoun drove by. I gave him the name of our mystery priest, Rev. Wilmot Duquesne from Bryn Mawr. That was most welcome. I walked around school grounds and saw nothing amiss. All was well.
I called my office the next morning, asked them to check the priest, and called the Reverent Mr. Herbert. His only comment was, "Oh him." I planned to meet Wilda-beast and fill him on Gerald III's activities. That didn't happen. The Beast suffered a major heart attack that morning. Needless to say, I was suspicious as were the police. The local doctors knew their stuff and it was genuine. He had high blood pressure, and everyone knew the stress of recent days. I was the only one who knew just how much stress he was under.
Wilda-beast thought he could control Gerald III, but he misunderstood the full extent of Gerald's problems. The man was sick and seemed to be an equal opportunity sex-abuser. Wilda-beast stopped the abuse of boys, but had no idea there was a problem with girls. He was unaware of the Cranmer society. He though he had a caged lion, but had just discovered there was a secret, unlocked gate in the rear of the cage.
The Beast wasn't a man to make excuses, or deny the situation. He had royally fucked up. He would have done anything necessary to correct the situation, but the heart attack intervened. The leadership of the school passed to the second in command, Martin Hazel. He was a bean counter. Mrs. Putney told me the school was all but leaderless.
We had the last week of the session events this week, the art show, a poetry reading, the play and a concert. This was a golden opportunity for anyone who was trying to discredit or embarrass the school. I decided to call in a few more operatives to keep an eye on the place. My sculptor operative, Gus, came to help with the Art Show. He posed as Anton's pal and came to do the heavy lifting. One of my newer operatives came to Randall posing as a magazine writer doing an article on older prep schools in the modern age. Phillip was an English major and was very convincing. He was doing both schools, so he could watch over St. Thomas' School.
I called my old friend Wally Jones and asked if he could attend the musical events. He didn't work for me, but he was sharp as a tack. He was the organist of the wealthiest Episcopalian church in Richmond, and a well known and respected musician. He was much into Episcopalian politics and had that base covered. He also knew about the Cranmer society and was willing to do battle with them.
Wally knew St. Cecelia's choir leader, Ms Willis. She had a problem with stage freight and Wally offered to be a guest conductor. She accepted that proposal with enthusiasm. His first rehearsal with the girls was electrifying. I don't think they knew they could sing that well.
In the bad news department, Gerald Milland III was in town and taking Martin Hazel under his ring. I heard him saying, "Don't worry, I know the way this place works." Hazel looked as if he believed that. I asked Jeffry, the science teacher about Hazel.
"Martin is a natural second in command. He's good about the nitty-gritty of administrative details. When he reads a report, he corrects the grammar. I don't think he had any interest in policy. He's not a bad man, but he is limited," Jeff explained. "His big problem is that he doesn't see the forest for the trees."
That night I sat on my porch overlooking the school. As dusk fell I got an feeling of unease. I had binoculars and saw a glowing red dot in a bush. I assumed someone had forgotten to recharge their cell phone. I decided to investigate. It was a five-minute walk and I made it in three. The little light was still glowing. It was getting dark, but I could tell there was a male figure hidden in a bush, a large male figure.
He saw me and bolted. I let out a yell and chased him. "Who in Hell are you?" I cried. He was faster than I would have thought, but soon I had a number of girls armed with hockey and lacrosse sticks as well as a few golf clubs on the hunt with me. He ran into a wooded area. I heard a engine start and race away. I didn't even see the vehicle.
The Randall police arrived a minutes or two later. There had been an accident on Main Street and they had all been there. The man had completely vanished. Calhoun and the Police Chief were pissed.
I walked back to my rooms above the garage. It was then I realized the man had been under the new Sikh girl's room. I also remembered Gerald Milland III had a taste for young, oriental women. The girl was 14, small and delicate. She was almost doll like.
The next morning I saw Melissa and told her of my worries. Melissa said she would make sure the girl was accompanied at all times. The man hanging around the girls' dorms spooked the Police Chief. There was a police car near the school at all times, and the Sherriff had deputies much in evidence. Later that morning there was a brief upset.
Martin Hazel decided not to allow St. Thomas's students to participate in the St. Cecelia's events. He said it was too dangerous for them. That would have ended the play, and ruined the choral events. St. Thomas's provided the basses and baritones. I suspected Gerald was behind this move. Board members from both the schools appeared to address the situation.
Later I found out while most St Thomas's board members were opposed to the move, but Gerald was a loudmouth and a bully. At two o'clock in the afternoon, they adjourned without making a decision, planning to reconvene after dinner.
At six St. Cecelia's brought in the heavy artillery. Actually, it was Wally Jones who called for reinforcements; he had called his friend the Bishop. The Bishop and several members of his staff arrived. They visited Mrs. Putney and Douglass, then went to St Thomas's. They had several boxes of files, and I was sent along with them as a porter. As I left Mr. Putney whispered I was to stay near the Bishop at all times. I was to be his bodyguard.
At the meeting the Bishop was quite mild mannered, but Gerald questioned his authority, and deeply offended the man. The bishop had his lawyer with him and the lawyer discovered the board served at the pleasure of the Bishop, and individual members and indeed the full board could be removed at his will. Apparently, the charter said they could be removed, with or without cause and without legal recourse. The Bishop was what a friend of mine called scary calm. He was firmly in control, but obviously enraged.
Gerald said he was a life member of the board. The Bishop said he was no longer a member and should leave the room and the school campus immediately. Gerald refused. In an odd coincidence, the board room door opened and you could see Calhoun and two other policemen were in the waiting room. Gerald left and the policemen followed him.
The bishop resumed his mild mannered ways, and asked if they was any more discussion. "I would only say that St. Thomas's and St. Cecelia's have been mutually supportive for years, and I would hate to see this relationship injured in any way," he remarked. The board voted unanimously to continue to participate with St. Cecelia's.
Afterwards Bishop went to Martin Hazel and calmed down the shaken man. "I place no blame on you for this unfortunate event, Martin," he said, "You received bad advice from a senior board member. This was your first day after the heart attack. It was perfectly natural for you to accept his advice."
The Bishop and a member of his staff helped Martin get control. Students were gathered in front of the building and the Bishop said the cooperation with St. Celaya's would remain as it had been. The students cheered and applauded. He then said a payer for Wilda-beast, and left. He did leave the Reverend Mr. Herbert as an advisor to Mr. Hazel.
That night I got together with Calhoun, Gus, Wally and Philip at Jeff's house. Al joined us. Clem was working in North Carolina. We agreed it was going to be a bad week. There was too much temptation for whoever was attacking the school. Gerald Milland III was under surveillance by the police. They had him wiretapped. Wally told us the Diocese was going after the Cranmer Society, and had established Gerald was the paymaster and the lead about the Rev. Wilmot Duquesne had been fruitful.
"As of now, it looks likely that the Cranmer society may be Milland and one or two flunkies. Duquesne is almost certainly one of them, but there may be others," Wally reported. "I don't think Duquesne is violent. Our friend from Pennsylvania fancies himself as a new St. Paul, not a hit man."
"There was a car from Pennsylvania with a odd looking guy in it at and Quick-Stop," Al said in his stammering voice. I though the guy was in a disguise."
"Did you get a license number?" Calhoun asked.
Al pulled a little pad from his pocket. "It was a 1996 Volvo, dark blue with serious rust," he said. "I have the license." Calhoun called in the number.
Philip reported the students thought there were students involved, but had no idea whom. "Why do they think that?" I asked.
"Some of the incidents reflect in depth knowledge of the student lives," Philip said. "They think only a student would know how important the art portfolios were. To an outsider they were just drawings by modestly talented kids. To several of the students they were key to getting into art school. Only a student would know that."
Al told us the word in the lower tiers of the Redneck world, there was a man around town who liked his playmates young. "You know when one of those guys says young, he's not talking 15 or 16. A 16 year old is an old maid for them. The guy was vague and I haven't quite tracked it down, but someone knows there is a molester out there."
"How do you find out these things?" Calhoun asked.
"Everyone thinks I'm a retard so it doesn't make any difference what they say near me," Al said. I mentioned the incident at near the young girl's room.
"The guy who was talking mentioned the guy likes them all, even dark meat," Al added. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I decided to get Sally on the girl's hall if I could.
"A rape this week with all the visitors and parents here would be a disaster," Jeff said. "I wonder if that is the plan?" I wondered the same.
After a half hour of conversation, we were all clearly on the same page. Of course, I knew we were all on the same page sexually too, but my new friends from Randall didn't know my friends from Richmond. I wondered how well the group's Gaydar was working. As the group began to break up, it was clear the Gardar was in perfect working order.
"Would anyone like a glass of wine?" Jeffry asked. Calhoun was in duty and had to leave. Not surprisingly, everyone else was willing. We broke up into two groups. Gus and Philip went to Jeffry like an iron filing to a magnet. I looked at Jeffery. He looked as if he had died and gone to heaven. He liked the attention of the two young, handsome men.
Wally and I were with Al. Wally was interceded in the small man's speech impediment. He was engaged in an experiment using song to overcome the problem. I thought that might offend Al, but Wally was an affable and friendly man. We told him of our own experiments using anal sex to solve the problem. We went to Al's house for a demonstration.
Wally and I are old friends. We were never lovers, but the friendship was never strictly platonic either. Wally's interest in Al wasn't platonic either. He was attracted to the small man. I don't think Al was Wally's type until Wally stripped. Wally was well a well-educated, wealthy, cultured and slightly flamboyant type. Al was as unlike that as a man could be. Naked Wally was a caveman, a well-hung caveman. That did ring Al's chimes.
Wally wasn't a watcher either. He sampled Al's cock before Al had a chance to suck him. We traded places a few times, and then got down to business. Al rimmed me as Wally sucked him and then we had a spit lubricated fuck. As before Al's stutter vanished as his cock slid in my ass.
Wally was dumbfounded. He was working with a group of speech pathologists at a local University. No one had used sex to cure the problem. He asked Al to sing. Al had a beautiful baritone voice with no trace of stammer.
Remarkably, Wally wanted to take my place. He was normally all-top. We traded places and Al slid in without effort. I watched as they connected. Both men loved it. Al told us that Clem had found a job in North Carolina with a NASCAR team. He would be leaving. The house was Clem's so Al was soon be alone.
A little later Al was on his back with Wally's oak tree style cock in his ass. It was beautiful, a perfect fit. Wally dumped a full load of his man seed in Al's ass. Al had done the same to me and to Wally. It was a good night.