Catfish Meets Henry 2
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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Hillyard pumped his cock into me for an hour. He spent a good fifteen minutes shooting every drop of sperm into my ass. Maybe fifteen minutes is an exaggeration, but it was good. We dressed, and he took me to Logan's house. Logan was already asleep, so I had a good night's rest.
I spent the next morning doing computer searches on the men I had met. At 11:00 I had a call from a medical examiner named Chet. He wanted to see me and asked if he could come over. I said yes, and he was at the door a minute later. He must have called from his car parked in front of the house. Chet was a chunky guy who worked for the medical examiner office. The head examiner was occupied by the latest serial killer's victim, so Chet had done Bull.
Chet didn't think it was an accidental death either. It was a single, massive blow to the back of the head. There was no evidence of defensive wounds, and Bull's face was placid. There was no evidence he was aware of what was going to happen. The weapon was something like a baseball bat.
The clothes had been searched by a team which was called away when the serial killer's victim was brought in. Chet had made a second search of Bull's clothes. Bull's cell phone was missing, but Chet found a SD card with 128 gigs of memory. It was password protected and Chet had not been able to read it.
I called my office and talked to my geek squad. They had a connection in Charlotte who could help. A half hour later an odd-looking man appeared at our door, stuck the SD card into his laptop and transferred the contents to my office. They would break the password.
Chet had more information. The killer was about 5-11, left handed, and had red hair. That would be useful when we found a suspect. Chet was one of Hillyard's friends. "Hillyard told me you are a good guy, you know I could be fired if someone finds out?" I told him he didn't need to worry about that.
"Hillyard and I like some of the same things. I have to get back to work, but maybe we could get together some time?" I told him that was a possibility. He left.
I looked up the relators and developers for Avalon Gardens. That was unsuccessful, but Logan had copy of the local city magazine, and I hit pay dirt. It had a full page add with every contact for the project listed. I then called Bull's office and asked if someone could give me a tour of the development. Toby came by and hour later in his SUV. If you like 45-year-old, beaded, lumberjack types, Toby was the man for you. He would have been a hippie year ago. I had seen his work and he was a superb craftsman.
Avalon Gardens had a grand entrance way. Most of the houses were McMansions with Trump-like gold accessories. Bull's house was a low structure made of local stone and lumber. It was a sophisticated log cabin. The site was wooded and the only cleared area was to the south where there was a pool and a view across a pond to castle like house. It was on a triple lot, so the house was quite secluded and could be seen only from Bull's project. I asked Toby who lived there. He said it was Frankie and Bambi Smithson. He had met them once and was not impressed.
When we got back to the office, Lucy had gone home, and Henry was out of town with a new client. I checked my cell phone and had a message to call Hillyard. He had some information for me and wanted to meet at his house the next day, Saturday. I called and said that would be fine.
Returning to Logan's house, he had some friends for dinner and invited me to join them. Logan liked pretty, younger men. Most of them were in their mid-twenties and they looked at me as if I had arrived from outer space. I went to my room after dinner to check my mail.
My office computer guys had cracked the password. The files were all either photographs or videos. They were checking these. I sent a note that the house across the pond might be important. It was nice to have a quiet night. There was some noise coming from the shower. I assumed they were having a good time.
At 10:30 someone knocked at the door. It was one of Logan's guest who introduced himself as Gus. He was a big, football type, blond man. "I'm sorry to bother you. Logan said we might get along. I don't fit in well with the other guys," he said. "I'm too butch and not anorexic."
"If you're too butch, they must think I am a caveman," I replied with a smile. "Did Logan tell you about me?
"A little. I know how you lost your leg," he said. "He said I would like one part of you. I'm kind of curious about it."
"I don't mind some show and tell, as long as there is no tell and a lot of feeling," I said. "If something gets going, I like to finish it. Part of you might be stretched." I was wearing a towel. I am not a pajama man. Gus was wearing one of Logan's guest robes. It fell open as my towel fell off. It was lust at first sight. Gus dropped to his knees and began sucking. He was almost frantic in his efforts to deep throat my cock. He many have been thirty, but he was already bald and had a pelt of curly blond hair.
He calmed down some and I asked if anyone had been up his ass.
"Logan did me. I guess you could say Emmett did me two, but it hardly counted," Gus replied.
"Is your ass well lubricated?"
"Logan came in me. Emmett may have spurted some too," Gus said.
"Well why don't you say your prayers and open up for me," I said. I was planning to take my time, but I went deep on the first thrust. He moaned.
"Take a breath and relax. It's all in," I said. He was still for a few minutes, but then began to grip my cock with his sphincter. I jiggled my cock and he moaned again. "I hate to tell you Gus, but my cock just found a home away from home."
"Damn, it's big. I didn't know I could take it," Gus murmured. "I didn't know I could feel so much. I've been fucked before, but this is so different." I began to make small, thrusting movements. Logan and Emmett had done a good job lubricating his fuck tunnel. He was tight, but my cock had some freedom of movement. My thrusts became stronger as his ass adjusted to my cock. He moaned.
"Am I using you for my own pleasure, or filling your needs?" I asked.
"I can't tell," he replied.
I began to pull out. I thought we had done enough. I then flipped him over and sat on his cock. He liked that, especially after I began to bounce on it. I bounced until I though he was close. We rested.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I thought it was too much when you were in me," Gus admitted. "Now I want you in me again." I lubricated my cock and entered him again. I slid in easily. He almost purred as I slid in. I didn't exactly fuck him. He was content that I was in him. He almost fell asleep, so I made some deep strokes to wake him up. After a while he told me that he needed a rest. It was a good night.
When I woke Gus was gone and Emmett was in my bed. I was surprised. Emmett was a delicate looking young man, maybe an inch or two taller than me. "Gus had to get to his job. He told me to tell you that last night was great. He also told me you were hung, and I wanted to see it," Emmett said.
"You are the refined, shy type," I said.
"I am the curious type," he replied. "You are everything that doesn't attracted me in a man. I like the slick, 1930's lounge lizard types. I have no idea why I am so turned on."
"I met some of your sperm in Gus' ass last night," I said. Emmett giggled. He bent over and began sucking me. Emmett wasn't my type, but he was an Olympic class cock sucker. He looked up for a second. "Did you shoot off in Gus?" he asked.
"Nope, I'm still fully loaded," I replied. He returned to his cock sucking duties and I soon shot off. Emmett was not as much a cock sucker as a ball drainer. I felt as if I had lost weight as he savored every drop of semen. He left, and I checked my computer. My office had examined the SD card and had results ready for me to look at.
Logan knocked on my door. "Breakfast is ready. If your naked, come as you are," he said.
Logan and Emmett were there with two other men, a striking Black man named Tyrone, and a Latino named Ferdinando. "We look a little bit like the United Nations," Logan said. "Everyone is friendly. My friends are all talented and borderline sex maniacs." They were all either set designers or builders. Emmett was painter, Tyrone a designer and Ferdinando a carpenter-carver.
We had a good breakfast and conversation. They all knew Bull and Henry, although I think Bull's sexual drive was normal compared to theirs. They knew that Bull wasn't into street trade. He was too butch for their set. He was the flannel shirt covered in sawdust sort of man. He went to a serious gym and may have met men there. "On the sex maniac scale, he was a two or three out of ten," Tyrone said. "He and Henry were the prefect couple with random, well-spaced flings," Lamont said.
I called my office after breakfast. Bull had an exceptionally high-powered camera. Distant shots were clear. He had taken a series of photos of the view from the terrace across the pond. This faced south, and Bull was interested in dramatic clouds formations. You could see men entering and leaving the castle-like house. The parking was at an angle; the cars and their license plates were visible.
The license plates were not crystal clear in blowups, but we had a program that examined pixels and identified numbers based on probability. That took some time, but they would have results by the afternoon. Henry called and wanted to get together with me and his lawyer.
He picked me up and we went to the lawyer's offices. This was an old, top of the line firm who specialized in trusts and estates. Thaxton Drew IV, was about my age, and looked like the perfect distinguished lawyer. He said there was no question about the will's authenticity. It was proper in every way. Henry would be a wealthy man.
He had contacted Bull's family lawyer who agreed the will was proper. He had found out that the 1,000
shares of stock had never played a role, since Bull never used them. His family had no disputes and voted together. There was a potential future problem related to Bull's sister, Ellen. Her first husband died, and her second marriage was problematic. Her new husband was Rodney Newsome, a tennis instructor at her country club, and 25 years her junior. He was interested in games of chance.
"He's a gold digger?" Henry asked.
"He is more of a Black Hole. Money just vanishes into the abyss," Thaxton explained. He brought in an associate, Ralph Edmonds, who was his associate handling the will.
"Mr. Edmonds is also in charge of renovating our offices. My wife tells me your firm is highly regarded. I sat in one of Bull's chairs. They were handsome and comfortable," Thaxton said. "Mr. Bullifant was a gifted man."
"We are still making his furniture, and we have all of his designs for other furniture, such as conference tables and desks, if you are interested," Henry said. "Did your wife mention our furniture hand-made and is sold at a premium?"
Thaxton laughed, "My wife's friends are demanding. They seemed to think the work was worth the price," he said. It was a cordial meeting.
After this conversation, I wanted to meet Rodney, the second husband. Henry laughed. "I am afraid seeing him for tennis lessons would be a stretch for even you. I do know one guy who is a member of the club, Gus Smith. He's one of Logan's pals." I didn't mention that Gus and I had met. Gus was a stock broker and advisor who worked for his father's firm. A good portion of his work was conducted on the golf course.
Rodney had lost most of women he had been giving lessons to when he married. Gus had no problem arranging to get lessons. Gus did well with the first lesson. He was a naturally athletic man. He told Rodney he liked a bar nearby and asked if he would like a drink. The Club rules didn't allow staff to drink with members. Rodney was more than willing.
I was at the bar and waved them over to my table. I ordered drinks for them when I realized that Rodney was not the sort of man who would say no to a free drink. He eyed several women there. They were busty and brash. He was clearly interested. If I were married to a middle-aged heiress, I would have stayed clear, but Rodney was not picky.
Rodney was a good-looking redneck who didn't like to work. He wasn't too bright or that handsome, but he didn't know it. The women thought he was a diamond in the rough, but only the rough part was true. After fifteen minutes of conversation it was clear to me that Rodney wasn't bright enough to plot an elaborate scheme. While we were chatting, a guy came up to our table. He was Charles Donavan, Ellen's son by her first marriage.
Rodney thought he had accepted him as a step-father. Rodney was not a good judge of character. I had the impression tht Rodney was a small predator who was going to be devoured by a larger predator. Charles was just waiting to decide if he would devour him at lunch or at dinner. If any one did a nature documentary about life in the country club, Charles would be the tiger.
I also came to realize that Gus and Charles were acquainted, and there was a good chance it wasn't platonic. Rodney left to go home, and Gus and Charles' relationship became clearer. Gus was an attractive man, blond, with an athletic body, and a cheerful personality. They had gone to the same school. Charles was an upper-class man; Gus was an athletically gifted junior. Somehow, I had a vision of an unexpected encounter in the shower room, followed by some exploring of the possibilities. Charles mentioned he was surprised by the Mutt & Jeff contrast in size. Gus joked that I was big where it counted. "Really?" Charles said.
Gus smiled and added, "Really Big." Charles smiled too. He lived nearby, and we went to his house to watch a baseball game. Gus said he was stiff from his tennis lessons and suggested a quick trip to the whirlpool. From then on everything was on automatic pilot with a few variations. Charles was putting on weight but had a hairy chest and a treasure trail to his bush.
Gus told him that we had gotten it on and it had been great. Charles said there was a lot more to me than he had guessed, and he wouldn't mind seeing it in action.
"Do you want to join in?" I asked.
"Well, I'm not exactly a virgin, but you are in a different weight class than I am," Charles said. "I might join in if I get inspired."
Gus laughed and said, "I've never known Charles not to get inspired."
"If things get a little messy, don't worry, the filter system in this hot tub works fine," Charles said.
Charles was one of those guys who loved man sex, but couldn't admit it. I knew the type. His cock was already getting firm and I knew he would do more than observe. I sucked Gus and then sat on the edge of the tub to let him suck me. Charles the first to my cock.
"I drool and ooze some," I said. Gus went to Charles's rear and his cock made a direct hit on Charles's prostate. Gus had been there before and knew exactly what rang his pal's chimes. Charles was clearly comfortable with Guy in his ass. I was able to get in the water to suck Charles's drooling cock.
We broke apart to catch our breath. We had a drink and I could almost see Charles's mind trying to decide if he take my cock. Gus's tool wasn't gigantic, but it was substantial. We talked as Charles fondled our cocks. He said he wanted to get rid of Rodney before he hurt his sister. "Is he trying to get her money?" I asked.
"Of course, he is, but out lawyers are better than his," Charles said. "I was plotting to get him, but I've stopped worrying. I figure he will screw himself without my help. They live in the big house. The servants will warn me if he tries anything violent."
Gus's cell phone buzzed, and he went off to take the call. "Gus told me he had a good time with you. He's more open about that kind of thing, than I am. I'm a textbook closeted guy. "Does that offend you?" he asked.
"If the sex is good, I don't give a crap," I replied.
`What if it isn't that good?" he asked. "I'm not sure what I can take. I know you are a size or two bigger than Gus."
"I might give you points good attitude," I said. Gus and Charles were okay, but not my dream men. Somehow our cocks and assholes were made for each other. Everything fit perfectly and hit all the good places. Sex was easy, fun and satisfying. Charles may have been a rich boy working in the family business, he was willing to give and take sexually. My cock was a bit big for him, but he sat on it and undulated his hips as Gus sucked him. Gus took his load and when we broke apart, shared Charles cum with me and with Charles.
He later took a full load from me enthusiastically. He told me afterwards that my cock in his ass was more intense than pleasurable, but the spurting cock in his mouth was 110% good. He was more into sex than love, except for Gus. I had a cock; Gus has a love stick. It's hard to analyze a man's personality through anal sex, a good portion of his thoughts are occupied elsewhere, but I felt good about him.