Catfish Finds Gold 10 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 Academy of Art was a big institution but it wasn't particularly well known. The discovery of the stolen art strained their resources. Forensic art collecting was not one of their skills. This was a big deal, since they were getting international attention and they wanted to do well.
The local police wanted to look good too. Their natural inclinations was to go after the murders, and they were already involved in the scam-embezzlement aspect of the case. Rusty had been trying to find out where the embezzled money had gone. He had been proceeding on the assumption it had vanished into an off shore account.
It now seemed possible that J. J. had converted some of it into art. A good portion of his collection was apparently stolen, but some had been purchased by an "anonymous bidder" on the open market. If J. J. had been one of those bidders, then there was a chance of some restitution for the victims of his scams.
There was lots of stuff now stored at the Academy. Luckily, it turned out the registrar for art at the academy was not a wild and crazy man. He was efficient and fast. Everything was quickly marked, photographed and sent to storage or to the conservation lab if necessary. The curators did provisional identifications on the artwork. They pulled in some experts from local universities and institutions to help.
In general art historians are not well-rounded people; they tend to be obsessive and anal-retentive. Their provisional identifications were right 90% of the time. With that information, my geeks could go to town. Tracing stolen good was meat and potatoes for them.
I soon realized that if you are a nerdy-geeky-geezer sort of man with Bloodhound tendencies, you don't need to waste time on sleeping or eating. They soon found loot from several robberies that opened new paths. They also traced several art works to particular art galleries and auction houses. Two Academy staff members, Josh and Sarah volunteered to help my men with art historical questions. Josh could speak French and Italian. Sarah took care of German language questions.
Sarah was big, aggressive Nordic goddess type. Josh gave you the impression he had never been outside ever. He had some terrier characteristics and once he was on the chase, he didn't give up. They both knew their stuff and were helpful.
Sarah worked from her apartment and had a chat room. My people would send her a question and the reply would usually arrive a few minutes later. We could hook her into our phone if we needed a German translator. Josh came to my office after work and often spent the night.
J.J's scheme was clever. He used smaller galleries in secondary cities to acquire art works. He avoided the big names like Sotheby's and Christie's. His preferred galleries were in smaller less well known places such as Turin and Nice. The big names were too well known and there sales were too well publicized. In a few cases, he had one of these smaller galleries bid on more major works in the larger auction houses.
Josh liked to read catalogs for art sales and auctions. He also had a photographic memory. He figured out in what sales J. J. bought art. Josh tended to talk non-stop and tell you more than you would ever need to know. Rusty liked that. Since Rusty had most of J. J.'s bank records, when Josh found a sale, they could look up the sale date and then look for financial transactions on or near that day.
It seemed as if the art works fell into three categories, legitimate purchases with potentially embezzled money, plain old loot, some from as far back the Nazis and World War II, and mystery art. The mystery art was made of impressive works, which had no record of sales.
I suggested some of this might be from old, private collections or from crime bosses, oligarchs or deposed dictators. Josh also thought the mystery art might be made of a works from Mafia Don's or crime bosses. He thought they might be works stolen from collections of previously stolen art. These people would not have been able to report their losses.
The art solved a bookkeeping problem for Rusty. Since so much money had seemed to disappear, in a trial, the defense could say the entire thing was simply a fabrication. Rusty now thought J.J had converted much of his money into art works and had not stashed it in offshore accounts.
J. J. had vanished, but everyone was looking for him. The Nazi stuff was a blessing in some ways. No one wanted to be contaminated by it. The academy was issuing new photographs every day or two of the art works we found. These were published worldwide. Anyone who had a major work stolen now knew who took it. I figured that the murder and fraud charges in Virginia were minor nuisances compared to the wrath of a Russian Oligarch, or a Mafia Don who had a taste for art.
While this was going on, I was just relaxing. My work was done and my staff was doing the work. I am more of a field man than a computer jockey. I could take it easy. The police were hard at work but much of the activity was in Europe and in the Caribbean. A little rest was good for me anyway.
Rusty came by to see me. Rusty was cheerful anyway, but he was flying high. J. J. was in many suspect businesses and we suddenly had links to all of them, the Ponzi schemes, embezzlement, art thefts and money laundering. If it was illegal it seemed that J. J. was involved. Rusty was talking with the FBI in Washington and investigators in New York. That was a big deal for a cop from rural Virginia.
"I do have a favor I need from you," he said. "Eubank made a connection with Josh. They hit it off. Eubank let it slip that you have a world's fair exhibit hanging between your legs. Josh wants to see it. I know Josh isn't your type, but he wants it bad."
While I don't like being treated as a circus freak, I have a hard time saying no to anything that could be interpreted as sex. It is a character flaw. Rusty asked me over to dinner at his house next Friday. I said yes. I didn't commit to playing with Josh, but if he was a guest at Rusty's place, I would be hospitable.
On Friday, I drove out to Rusty's cabin. It was on a high bluff overlooking the James River surrounded by a swamp. Secluded was hardly the word for it. Rusty greeted me at the door. The cabin was one big room and a bath. Screen porches enveloped the house on three sides. The swamp was a nature habitat and bird sanctuary. While there were insects everywhere, there a slew was a slew of fat birds. The bugs weren't a problem. Eubank and Josh were on the porch, having a beer.
Josh was pudgy and bland, but not fat. He was very pale, with watery gray eyes and a shaved head. He wore baggy, oversized, gray sweat pants and a sad looking sweatshirt. He was taller than I thought. I think his innocuousness made him look smaller.
Rusty had a hot tub to the side. It was big enough for four. "Let's all try out the tub!" Rusty said. He had a policeman's ability to politely request something that was actually a command. He was big and intimidating and most people would do what he asked. I did. Eubank and Josh were slow responding, but they stripped too.
Josh surprised me when he stripped. He was clean-shaven and shaved his head, but was bear-like hairy everywhere else. He had watched me strip, and I think he looked relived when he saw my body. Eubank was smooth as a new-born babe. Rusty was a ginger bear.
"This has been a really exciting case. It is it sort of a Whitman's Sampler of criminal activities," Rusty said when he settled into the warm tub. "Stolen art works didn't occur to me as a way to launder money."
"That part was well thought out," Josh said. "He found small but respectable galleries in slightly out of the way places. J. J. also had them geographically spread out. There was nothing suspicious about individual purchases." Josh continued talking and I learned a lot about the art world. Being an anal-retentive art historian would normally be a drag. His encyclopedic knowledge was helpful and interesting.
I sat on the edge of the hot tub a few times to cool down. When I did, I noticed that Josh's eyes were glued to my cock. He kept on talking, but he couldn't pull his eyes away. Eubank was not exactly avoiding his gaze from my genitals either. I have a hard time pretending to be uninterested when I am naked. Actually, there have been times when I was uninterested, but my cock had an entirely different plan. I wasn't hard, but you could tell I was excited. My foreskin had pulled back and exposed my cock head a little.
"You're a nice hairy one," Rusty said to Josh. "Usually I'm the hairiest man in the room. That is unless Catfish is there!"
"I've always felt like a freak," Josh said.
"There is nothing wrong with looking like a man," Rusty replied. "No one would mistake you for being a girly man! When you get older you'll be a regular grizzly." I think I saw Josh relaxing a little. "Eubank told me you two hit it off. Things are relaxed and open here. I like being naked with my pals. I hope you don't mind."
"I'm I a pal?" Josh asked.
"You are if you want to be," Rusty replied. "Let me warn you. When I said we are open, I meant really open. We aren't shy at all." He smiled and stroked his cock. Josh understood and moved his hand; he was semi hard.
"I kind of told Josh about the things we did," Eubank said. "We did some of them too. It was fine."
"I've never been with old guys before," Josh said.
"Does that bother you?" I asked.
"I thought it would, but it seems to have turned me on instead," Josh relied.
"Well, assuming you are talking about sex, you are a bear that has just fallen into a pot of honey!" Rusty said. Poor Josh didn't know what to do, but Rusty slipped into the water and swallowed Josh's cock. Eubank came over to me. His cock was so hard it looked as if it hurt. I sucked him.
After about five minutes, Rusty said, "Let's all get acquainted and trade partners." I tried Josh's meat. His sex juices were flowing like a mountain stream and I licked it up as it drooled.
"I'm sorry. I'm making a mess," Josh whispered. I looked up at him as he sat on the edge of the tub.
"If you make it, I'll take it," I replied. "It's good to taste a man when he's excited."
"You like it?"
"I do and I like the thicker stuff too," I said. "Does that bother you?"
"No, not at all. I guess it's less to clean up," he said. "No one's taken mine before. Do I have to take yours?"
"Not unless you like it," I explained. He began squirting at just that moment. I had a mouth full of his ball cream a second or two later. When he stopped shooting, he slipped into the water again. "Have you tasted your sperm? I asked. I hadn't swallowed and his load was still in my mouth. We kissed. He liked that a lot; unexpectedly, I did too.
"We're going to be hard boiled if we don't get out of the water soon," Rusty said. I had been preoccupied and hadn't noticed the heat. We all got out of the whirlpool. Josh had just shot off, but he was still hard. That was a good sign.
Josh sucked me for a while. I had been semi hard. Now that I was fully erect, Josh gave up the fight and we went at it like dogs in heat. I found out later that Josh had done a lot of thinking and fantasizing about sex, but had little actual experience. He was too shy and unsure of himself. He made up for a lot of lost time. He was inexperienced and very willing.
He wanted to do it all and to get as much sex in as was possible in one afternoon. Luckily, there were three of us. A little later, Eubank sat on my cock. I thought that would be a nice educational experience for Josh so he could see my cock stretching an ass. Not only did he like the view, he tried to get his tongue in Eubank's ass with my cock. That was a very good sign. Rusty took that as an opportunity to try a few anal stretching exercises with his fingers in Josh's hole. Josh became really excited.
"Eubank told me you have a really nice ass," Rusty said. "I was hoping you would let Catfish and me make a few trips up your behind and see how it feels. To tell you the truth, I can guarantee it will be good for me. I'd be real interested in seeing what it's like for you. When Catfish fucked me the first time I visited some places I didn't know existed. They were pretty wild and mind blowing.
"Sex is good any way you slice it as far as I can tell," he continued. "It's never the same. It can be different with different men, but even when you are with an old playmate it can surprise you. The hardest thing for me was letting myself enjoy it. I'm a big boy and I couldn't believe I would let guy shove his cock in my ass and breed me. He did and I loved it. I couldn't believe I loved it, but I did."
Rusty didn't get to fuck Josh until later. When Eubank dismounted from my cock, Josh took his place. My cock was sticking straight up and Josh looked at it longingly. There was a tube of lube on the bedside table and I coated my cock with it.
"Do I have to take it all?" he asked.
"Take as much as you want," I said. "You are sitting on it. You can stop at any time." He straddled me. When my cock touched his anus, he shivered. I couldn't tell if it was fear or excitement.
"Wiggle your ass a little. Somehow my cock always finds the hole," I said.
"That sounds strange," he whispered.
"You're getting fucked. Don't worry about strange," I said. He wiggled and as I expected his hole found my cock head. "I ooze buckets of precum. I'll be lubricating you as I slip in," I said. "Did Eubank shoot off in you?"
"I don't know," he whispered.
"Would it bother you if I filled you with my man seed?" I asked. "You shot a beautiful load. It was plentiful, nice and creamy." By now, Josh was rotating his ass like a corkscrew and I could feel his ass relax a little.
I rubbed the hair on his chest and then touched his nipples. Josh sighed and sort of melted on my cock. His ass ring touched my pubic hair. Josh was royally fucked.
Some men resist my cock; others take it easily. Josh's ass swallowed my cock. He was still for a short while, but his cock was fully erect. His eyes glazed over and then he started to bounce a little. I think he was rubbing his prostate against my shaft.
"That's it, work it!" I said. "Everything you do is good for me, so just work it. It's a perfect fit!" Later, Josh told me he couldn't tell if it hurt or not. The sensations were so intense he could not sort out his feelings. I screwed him three times that afternoon. Each time was easier than the time before. He may not have sorted his feelings, but his ass knew what it liked. The rest of the afternoon was one, big fuck-a-thon. We all fucked Josh and he fucked us.
I thought Josh had been saving up his special sauce for years. He was capable of multiple orgasms and his balls must have produced sperm by the quart. I had never thought of anal sex as the cure for shyness, but it seemed to work. Josh turned into a sex toy. The three of us used him and he used us. I was a little afraid we had overworked him, but when he bent me over and licked up the sperm dribbling from my ass, I decided he was okay with it.
Josh's ass was tight, warm and juicy. It was in the edge of being too tight I thought, but when he took Rusty and Eubanks cock at the same time, I stopped worrying. He had pent up sexual needs and he wanted it all. My cock probing deep in his ass made him lose his reserve and become affectionate. I rear-ended him while he was making out with Eubank and that was a trip.
Rusty slipped into Eubank's ass as I did Josh and the two men used our cocks as toys to enhance their own passion. I have no idea how many times we climaxed, but it must have been near a world record. I took Josh's cock in the ass, but Eubank tried to get in too. It was nice and tight and while it wasn't bad, it wasn't that good for me. They loved being cock to cock in a tight hole. After they shot off, they shared rimming duties.
After we calmed down, conversation turned back to the stolen art. "I wish there was some way to draw all of these bad actors out into the open," Rusty said. "I know there are many we don't even have a name for."
"Is it true murderers like to return to the scene of the crime?" Josh asked.
"Sometimes it happens," I said. "I think it happens when mental illness or obsession is in the mix. Some men like to gloat and savor their triumphs."
"I hate to sound like Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland, but what if we had a show? I mean an art show of the stolen artwork. Who would show up?" Josh asked. "Would people show up to see their paintings for the last time?"
"What if we had lots of cameras videoing the crowds?" Rusty asked. "I don't know if we would catch anyone, but it might produce some leads."
"I suspect it might produce some interesting disguises too," I added. Rusty made some calls. A week later, there was a plan for an exhibition of stolen art at the Academy. It would open in a month and be for two weeks only. It would display unclaimed and unidentified artworks. Art museums aren't noted for whipping out exhibitions at the drop of a hat, but the Academy was game and they solicited help from other museums.
The academy also put of ads for temporary guards. We wanted to see who turned up. Some regular guard types showed up but we also added a slew of undercover cops to the brew. We were also able to work some miniature cameras into the ornamental frames of several paintings. Rusty wanted to see if any visitors were unusually interested. There was a fee for seeing the exhibit and that would give us checks and credit card numbers. We announced there would be no sales at the door; it was reservations only. The combinations of facial identification software and the credit card info, we gave us a good idea who visited the exhibit. The Academy was in the frantic rush to get the exhibition installed. There was no need for publicity. Once the Academy issued a press release, the entire art world knew. The initial offering of reserved tickets was sold out in 18 hours.
In order to accommodate the crowds the Academy extended it hours and they filled the Academy from ten in the morning to ten at night for three weeks solid. The place was a zoo. There many foreign visitors filling the city's hotels.
As we hoped, exhibit attracted a number of suspect persons. Some may have been involved in stealing the art works, but other may have been checking to see if there was a potential for stealing the art again. They seemed to think the Academy would be an easier place to rob than the Met or the National Gallery.
We did nothing to discourage that impression. I had a number of my operatives acting as guards who can appear to be a bit rustic. We were keeping complete cell phone records for the Academy. We knew who was taking and sending photographs and who was receiving the images.
The Academy staff, my people, the police and troopers were doing the grunt work. High-powered computers in Europe and the United States were processing the information. After three days, it was clear that the exhibitions was a success.