Catfish finds Inner Peace 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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Two men from North Carolina came to see me. They owned Hill Top Farm, a resort-spa near Ashville. I had never heard of it, but I am not much of a resort-spa guy. Their leader, Phil Michaels, gave me a long spiel on treating the entire man, body and soul, and holistic, whole man therapy. He said this would readjust your inner being so that you would be in complete harmony with the world. That was nice and I assumed it was expensive.
I assumed correctly. It cost an arm and a leg. I am not sure what holistic means and I have a problem with bullshit. After fifteen minutes of his talk, I asked, "I am a detective. Why are you here?"
"I got your name from some former professional wrestlers who said you are open minded and good about dealing with sensitive subjects, Phil said. "Ali Baba and Mandlebaum said you were good about that sort of problem." They were my old friends and sexual playmates.
"Can you just tell me the problem?" I asked.
"Hill Top Farm is for men only and we specialize in stress relief," a man named Don said. "We encourage our guests to replace and renew their sexual fluids daily. We have staff members who help them with that chore."
"Are we talking borderline prostitution here?" I asked.
"We pay our staff very well, and no cash changes hands," Phil said. "It just happens that our staff seems to have an interest in the therapy and are often willing to help our guests. A week ago, we found hidden camera. We have not found any efforts to blackmail our guests yet, but we are afraid. If anything like that got out, we would be out of business."
"Most of our clients are reserved and respectable men who like to keep their private life private," Don said. "Many live in small towns and rural areas that are not liberated in a sexual sense. A weekend or an entire week at the Farm is a blessing for them."
I know you are supposed to be open about your sexuality, but I knew that was hardly possible for many men. They had well established relationships with family and friends. Coming out was a risk that might completely change their lives. I understood the situation.
I wasn't sure that I wanted to take the job, but when Phil offered a $30,000.00 retainer, I changed my mind. It was a lot of money, but it also suggested there was more involved than a single hidden camera.
When they left, I called Ali Baba. He said the men were on the level. They had been to Hill Top Farm and it was nice. "Actually it was genuinely relaxing," he added.
"Their stress relief efforts were successful?" I asked.
He laughed. "They sure were. It is a nice place, low key and calm. I think you know all the techniques they use. You will have a good time. We did an exhibition of naked wrestling that was fun for all involved. It was very educational, if you get my drift."
"If I went there, were would I find the most action?" I asked.
"Other than in the individual bedrooms, there is a place they call the Renewal Center. It has exercise machines and pool, sauna and the usual stuff," he said, "The activity is open there. It is a free love, be free, be happy sort of place. I would say that some of the men are shy and timid, but others like to show off their newfound freedom. Did they tell you that orgasms are a major part of the therapy?"
I said yes.
"Some guys were worn out by the need to drain their balls so regularly," Ali said. "That wasn't a problem for me. I doubt you will have that problem."
I drove down to Hill Top Farm on Thursday. Weekends were their busiest time. I was going to be an attendant-janitor in the Renewal Center. Somehow, I get to play janitor regularly. My strapping five-foot four-inch height and scrawny physique seems to fit the janitorial role. Janitors spend their lives poking around and that is good for a man looking for cameras.
Phil introduced me, as Noland Smith, to the club manager, Sammy DeMarco. Phil left me with Sammy and we discussed the problem. He pulled out a file of threatening letters. They were odd Born-Again, anti-gay obscene rants, threatening to kill or maim the staff and burn down the facility. I told him they should call the police.
"That is a problem. Our last election brought in a bunch of extreme right wing nuts. They don't seem to think that nation's laws apply to them since they have God on their side," Sammy explained. "They think religious liberty applies only to them. They are not too partial to Catholics, Jews and even Presbyterians. We don't want the police, and especially the police Chief, a character named Eugene Banks, investigating the farm. Privacy is important to us."
"If these letters are any indication, their theological approach combining obscenity and Jesus is a bit unorthodox," I remarked. "I assume most of their prophets have syndicated radio programs?"
Sammy smiled. "Elections are coming up next year. They won in an off year election and in a violent rainstorm. They have riled up the natives and there is a good chance they will lose the next election. We need to get to the election without an incident here."
I was supposed to have an orientation session, but the regular janitor was out sick. I was on the job full time on Friday. It took about three minutes to realize the regular janitor was not that sincere in his work. My momma brought me up right, and I had the place spic and span by ten. When the guests began to arrive, they noticed the difference. The staff was mostly young white men, with a good sprinkling of Blacks, Latinos and Orientals. All were muscular and fit. They didn't notice me.
The staff wore white uniforms that looked slightly like a nurse's uniform. The Janitorial staff wore a green wife beater and matching shorts. I am hairy so I looked like the missing link, if you think a chimp is the missing link. I became a conversation piece.
My shorts were of a lightweight synthetic fabric and they were clingy when they were damp. I sweat a lot and it looked as if there was a cucumber under my shorts. That was also a conversation piece. The director of the Renewal Center was a former pro-football player name Eddy Batten. He was a big, imposing man who got along with the guests. He was also quite sincere about exercise and he kept everyone busy. He did not know exactly what I was, but as long as I cleaned the showers well, he was happy.
The center had several private massage rooms, but there was a space called the Tantric Pavilion. The Farm's spiritual guide, Ram Medha oversaw that space. He was a tall, thin Indian man with a turban and an impressive beard. He wore an open robe that exposed his hairy chest.
For some reason he seemed to think I was a like spirit. He told me his job was to help men get in touch with their sexual core. As far as I could tell, his tantric philosophy was what I called edging. He wanted to men to stay sexually excited, but to try to avoid the orgasm. I'm not opposed to that, but holding back isn't my strong suit.
"I try to save the actual semen for use as lubricant," he told me. "I like natural lubricants the best." He had a bottle filled with a milky substance tied around his neck. He shook it a little.
"Is it okay if guys suck it up?" I asked. "It's fresh that way."
"Of course, but sometimes I collect it. Some extra is useful," he said. He opened his robe to expose his long, thin cock. I unzipped and exposed my organ. Ram smiled. "If you would like to join our study group, you would be most welcome," he added.
"I'm just a janitor," I said.
"We are all men," Ram said. "I think you might be inspirational for some of them. Are you easily shocked or shy?"
"I'm neither," I replied. Ram smiled again and floated off. I zipped up and went to clean the Tantric pavilion. Not all the men avoided orgasms and the floor needed some scrubbing.
Sammy gave me a room in the carriage house behind the main lodge. The lodge was former mansion, an impressive rustic structure made of huge, granite boulders and heavy timbers. There were a series of cottages forming a line to the east and west. These were the main guest accommodations. There was a servants wing to the side which was now the renewal Center and the Tantric Pavilion.
Most of the staff lived in nearby towns and came in for the day. I was to be the night shift guy. The night shift was good for me since it gave me a justification for poking around the place. I worked from six to eleven, but was on call for the rest of the night.
I shared the carriage house with Ram and Eddy who had small apartments there. I had a single room with a bath in the hall.
Other than being wealthy and having money to burn, the guest were varied. There were some shy, timid man who were dipping their toes in the pond of sexual opportunity. Others were sexually experienced. They came to the Farm to learn new skills.
Among the guests were some important people who wanted to be anonymous and stay out of view. Other men wanted to let it all hang out. At home, they had to hide their sexual identities, at Hill Top they wanted to be themselves for a week.
Most of them were older men, but there were some Wall Street types. They had hit it big and were barely 30 years old. All of the staff was friendly and affable. They tended to be All-American boy types. They never forced themselves on individual men, but they weren't standoffish either.
The first weekend at Hill Top was like a vacation for me. I looked around and got to know the lay of the land. The guest wore robes. The staff wore their uniforms. There was a handyman, Troy, who wandered around fixing odds and ends, but it was hard to hide anything in our uniforms. Service people came by, as did deliverymen. I came to know the yardmen. As far as I could tell, they were with the program. There are many gay rednecks and the Farm paid well. The second night I was here I found a camera in the Tantric center. I relocated a potted palm to block its view. When I traced the wire, it connected to a small transmitter the size of an I Pod in a duct. I got the serial numbers off the units and sent them to my office.
The senior staff seemed to be fine. Most con men are sincere, but I came to believe Ram was real. He thought of sex as a physical and spiritual experience. It was a natural experience to be enjoyed and relished, not treated as forbidden aspect of human life. His classes and sessions were intensely sexual but not obscene. He seemed intellectual, but he was more of a coach, guiding the guests and teaching them new skills.
Eddy was sincere too. He gave the impression that he was a Ronald Reagan-John Wayne type all American, and that was true. It was true as long as you included his over the top sexual drive. He was both needy and generous. It turns out that a roll in the hay with a pro-football player is a trip for a good many men.
I attended a Tantric session on my first Saturday at six in the morning. Ram felt the rising sun was inspirational. He had a deep voice and he could have been a stage hypnotist if he wanted. He spoke well and the six men in the group with me were fine with it.
He stripped and discussed his cock and his sexual needs. He discussed how his cock worked and how it felt. He asked the men to strip and join him only when they were willing. "Nothing is required in this class, nothing is demanded. Do not join us because you are embarrassed or want to be one of the gang," he said. "Join in because you want new experiences, deeper experiences. You may not realize this, but you have been only using a portion of your erotic potential. Join in when you are ready for the adventure."
I was one of the first to strip. My attractiveness increases when my cock is on view. I know this and being naked is not a problem. Ram was comfortable with public, sexual situations and the men relaxed. I don't think I am an exhibitionist, but I do not mind being on display. I didn't mind an audience and group participation.
I was erect and Ram explained that showed my masculine nature. "It is proof of your virility. Men should be proud to be erect, not embarrassed," Ram said. "Now, you have all noticed that Noland has an impressive man tool. Indeed, it is impressive, but remember our sexual experiences are much the same regardless of the size of the sexual tool. A large cock and a small cock generate the same exquisite feelings in an orgasm."
"Many of us have been trained to hide our sexual feelings and desires. We are embarrassed and ashamed to show anyone out true sexual natures. Why is that? Our sexual natures are at the core of our existence as human beings. Without sex we vanish as a species," he continued. "The climax or orgasm is the ultimate goal, but we all know the build up to that goal is intensely pleasurable."
"I want to extend that joyful experience, teetering on the edge of an orgasm. While the orgasm is a joyous experience, it also marks the end. It drains us and leaves us tired and spent. Think of sex as a marathon, not a sprint," he continues.
"What if you shoot off by accident?" a man named Mike asked.
"Let me be frank," Ram said. "That happens more often than not, especially in our early sessions. Feel free to enjoy the orgasm without guilt. Share it with a friend. Noland here is our attendant; he will clean it up. If anyone enjoys the taste, feel free to share. If any of you are lubricated, feel free to deposit your manly juices in his ass."
"Really?" Mike asked.
"We are all sexual creatures, but there is great variety in the ways we enjoy sex. As long as it is enjoyable for all involved, it is fine," Ram said. "Several months ago we had a guest who enjoyed multiple penetrations. The entire class took turns. It was a great success. Incidentally the class ran over its allotted time!" Everyone laughed.
We divided into two playgroups. I was with Mike and a man named Rodney. Rodney was tall and had a swimmers body. He was into the Tantric stuff. I had guessed Mike was an insurance salesman, but he was actually a real estate agent. He had been a jock at one time, but had filled out. He dyed his hair, but his body hair was natural. I took care of Mike's fireplug as Rodney gently stimulated my cock.
Mike was pumping out precum at a good pace.
"You like that stuff?" he asked.
"I sure do," I responded
"Do you like the cream too?"
"If you can make it, I can take it," I said. By the time, I was getting close, and I told Rodney to slow down. He and Mike traded places. Rodney's cock was six inches and thin. I swallowed the entire organ and then rubbed the cum tunnel on the underside with my tongue. Rodney moaned. Mike was interested in my balls and cock so I was able to cool down a little.
Ram was feeding his cock to the other members of the class. He gave gentle instructions on how to suck. He had an impressive organ and there was room for two.
Rodney and Mike changed positions again. Ram began to moan as the two men competed to take his cream.
"Are you ready for mine?" Mike asked. I nodded and he let loose. He was fully loaded and I took every drop. While I was sucking his sperm. I lost my concentration and Rodney took a mouthful of my own home brew. He did not object at all.
I had to do some clean up, so I had to leave.
"Do you top?" Rodney asked me in a whisper.
"I love to top," I replied.
I had a busy morning cleaning the locker rooms. The weekend crowd was messy and didn't make an effort to clean up. At lunchtime, I had a message on my phone from my office. They had traced the serial numbers on the camera. It had been mail ordered by an organization called the Jesus League.
My geeks are first-rate investigators. The Jesus League did not exist in any public records or on the internet. The address the League used was for the home of Eugene Banks, the police chief. Sammy had been right to be uneasy about reporting his problem to the local police.
I told my people to make a few comments to friends in the State Police. The State police was not a pro-gay organization, but they had learned the hard way that hate groups rarely focus on a single group. Anti-gay groups are usually anti-black, anti-Latino and anti-Jewish. They are equal opportunity offenders. The State Police would be interested and unhappy.
I was on duty that night and Mike came by the gym. He told me he wanted to connect again. I told him that was fine for me. Eddy was at the Renewal Center that night. I discovered that while he encouraged the men to exercise, he was also willing to reward those who did well. After 9:30, he had a cool down period. The men got naked and adjourned to the showers or sauna. Eddy joined them and they all enjoyed each other.
At six on Sunday morning, Ram woke me at 5:45 and asked me to attend a second Tantric session. I assumed attendance would be sparse, but I was wrong about that. We had twelve men in attendance and I was a focus of attention. It was more relaxed and more sexual than the first session. At the end of the class, Ram announced that the next session would explore tantric anal sex.
I returned to my room. About ten minutes later Ram knocked at my door. "Noland, you noticed the increased attendance? I think that is due to you and your cock. Your cock is a genuine man magnet," he said.
"You think so?"
"Yes, they want to see it and your approach and willingness to engage in sex is refreshing. They respond to it," he said. "Indeed, I respond to it too."
"You're the master," I said, "I aim to please."
"When I gave my little speech about sex being voluntary, I was expressing my actual feelings. It is not just a lure to find men who want to have sex with me," he said. "There is no requirement that you participate. It is not part of your job description."
"That is not a problem for me. I enjoyed myself."
"I was hoping that you had an interest in anal sex," Ram continued. "Some men find it much more intimate than other sexual activities. They are uneasy about it in a group situation."
"That is not a problem either," I said.
"I would like to use you in my introductory demonstration. I would love to welcome you into my body," he said. "I know most men like to fuck. Technically, I am your boss. Would you object to accommodating my cock? Again, that is definitely not a part of your job description."
"If I am in the mood that would be fine," I replied. "I am in the mood most of the time. I can't promise that I can control my orgasms."
Ram smiled. "I am not sure I could control mine either. I will see you tomorrow morning."
I had the rest of the morning off. I went in the attic of the Renewal center and found a transmitter. The camera I had found before had a limited range. The transmitter would have boosted the signal be picked up by whomever was using the cams. The notification lights on the transmitter had two green lights in a bank of ten. I went to the cam I found in the Tantric center and unplugged it. When I returned to the transmitter, only one green light remained.
There was one more camera. I found it that afternoon. There was a cam in the clock behind the registration desk. It had an image of everyone registering in the Hill Top Farm. I returned to the transmitter, it was raining outside and I poured some water into it. It shorted out immediately. I told Sammy to send a note around that there had been a leak and an electrical short. It asked the guest to check their electronics in case the needed to be reset. If there was an inside man, that would explain the failure of the cameras.
The Renewal Center was quiet on Sunday night. It was a nice restful period for me. Ram and Eddy were both at little gatherings in the private cottages. Three men came in at 10:00 to use the steam room. One was an older man and the others were in their forties. I had seen them around, but there were among the shy types. One of them had been in one of the Tantric sessions.
He came over to me when the other men went into the steam room. "I saw you at the Tantric session. I'm John," he said shaking my hand. "It was a good session, but I am shy. I wish I could let it all hang out like you did."
"I think the rule here is to be yourself," I said. "As long as you are comfortable and enjoying yourself, go with it!"
"I told my friends about it," John continued. "Is there any chance you could join us in the steam room? They would like to meet you."
I said I had a little work to do, but I would join them later. I picked up some towels and then stripped and went in the Steam Room. When I opened the door, there was some quick rustling. I assumed they were covering up.
"Are you men doing okay?" I asked. "Don't get over heated."
"We're fine," a voice said.
"Do you mind if I join you?" I asked. They could see that I was naked by then. John moved is towel so I could see he was semi erect.
"Sure, no problem," the man next to John said. "I'm Drew."
"I'm Noland, the night janitor."
"Are you the man that impressed John so much?" Drew asked.
"I might be, I have a great personality," I said as I stroked my cock. The men laughed.
"How many inches of personality do you have?" the third man asked. "I'm Gene, by the way."
"Some men say it's not the length of my personality, but the diameter," I responded. The men laughed again. "You may have guessed that I have a shy and retiring personality too. The night was young.