Catfish sort of Retires 5
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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All was quiet on the bay. The surprise raid was quick and successful with no injuries. The days after the raid were quiet during the questioning of the suspects. That was slow going since it involved both local police and the FBI with the Commonwealth Attorney and a Federal Prosecutor. Sheriff Tucker was closed mouthed. He didn't want anything getting out.
Edward had checked on all his leads and I sent them to Sheriff Tucker. He transmitted them to the FBI. I had a call back from Tucker. The FBI had been excited by the information on the Barb Black Foundation. It had not been on their radar, but they were interested in several of the board members. Treasure hunting is not a crime, so I assumed there were other problems.
Templeton called me and told me he had invited Clay for the weekend. "I was hoping you might have a few friends who were new to the scene. I think Clay would be more comfortable with a few novices," he explained. I mentioned Max, Roger and Delaney. Andy was young and open minded.
"Max and Delaney are a bit long in the tooth, aren't they?" Templeton remarked.
"They are both new to the gay scene and a bit fatherly. I learned a lot from Uncle Jake," I said.
"That might work," he said. "I had an older friend when I was in my twenties. George was a retired banker. He was your basic, gentle and friendly sex maniac. Except for the sex maniac thing, he was normal. He knew every possible sexual technique and position. He was the first man I ever fucked."
"Did he fuck you?" I asked.
"He had a hard time keeping it hard, but he had a friend, Tony. Tony looked like a gorilla. In bed he was a cute puppy, well hung puppy. You are the only guy who had been able to fuck me the way he did," Templeton said.
Alex and the girls were in New York with her parents for a birthday party. The women at the dig were away at a wedding that weekend so Delaney was free, as were Roger and Max. Templeton told Clay that there might be more intense sex than he experienced on his earlier visit. I told my friends the same thing. As I expected, warning men of the potential for more intense sex didn't discourage any one.
Roger and Delaney came over around four Friday afternoon. Ralph and Andy came a little later. Max and Rod came by at five; Templeton and Clay arrived at six. I thought that Roger and Clay might be uneasy with the older men. Apparently being wounded in action and fending off an attacker made up for age and increased our status. Ralph told Roger that things could get wild and crazy. He would either love it or get to love it. We had a simple dinner with interesting conversation. Max told us of all the local rumors most of which were comically incorrect.
We might have uncovered a criminal scheme to loot treasure and art works. The locals were convinced the Sheriff had it in for the Totten family ever since he was tackled by one of the Totten boys at a football game. Max knew all about it. I wasn't that he was tackled; it was that Tucker almost got a touchdown when he was tackled. Totten was on the same team. Totten stories went back generations, and some had all but turned legendary.
After dinner we went to the pool. "We all know each other some, I was hoping we would get to know each other better," Templeton said. "If I were strictly truthful, I would like to know you a lot better!"
"Templeton is always refined and restrained," Ralph interjected. "I don't want to seem crude, but I calculate we have a potential for 50 inches of erect cock here. If we can't have a good time with that, we should get kicked out of the Horney Male Club."
"Are you a charter member?" Dulaney asked.
"Yes. But more importantly I'm the head of the hospitality committee. I personally want to welcome you all. The entrance fee is a load of your home brew!" Ralph said. "By the way, if you don't know what to do, suck someone. That a good bet!"
Ralph was cheerful, energetic and a leader of men. He was a bit like the Pied Piper and could get away with a speech like that. Ralph led by example. He sucked everyone and was the first to open his ass for recreational use. Clay, Templeton and Dulaney formed a trio. Max, Rod and Andy were in a second trio. I was with Ralph and Roger. I was on a chair Roger sucked me as Ralph straddled the chair so I could suck him.
A little later Ralph sucked Roger while Rod and Andy double teamed me. Rod was a good top, and he became better when Andy gave him a prostate massage with his cock. Max was with Clay by then. Max was a good judge of character. He took a seat on Clay's tool, knowing that eventually Clay would take his. I suspected that Max may have had more experience than he claimed, since he sure knew how to work a cock with his ass. Clay shot off with vocal accompaniment. I think that doubled the chance that Max would eventually fuck him.
We sort of played sexual musical chairs until it was too dark. We went back to the house and found a sling on the screened porch.
"I was hoping to get to know you better, if you're interested," Templeton said as he got into it.
"Damn, we're not in Kansas anymore, are we?" Roger observed. "That seems kind of personal."
"It starts as being just fun," Templeton said, "It may turn personal later, if we get lucky."
The men laughed. Clay was first in line and the first in Templeton's behind. It was an obvious success. "is there such a thing as too personal too fast?" he asked.
"That could happen, I guess. It's never happened to me," Templeton said. Clay was already shooting his personal body fluids into his ass. Clay pulled out and Max took his place.
"Damn, you are open. Clay has lubricated the way," Max remarked. Max wasn't a fucker. He was a lover and he gently rocked the sling impaling Templeton with movement. He pulled away and Andy took his place. He tried to imitate Max's technique, but Andy was too young to hold back for long.
I asked Templeton if I could replace him. I hadn't been in a sling in years and I assumed he needed a rest. He got out and helped me get in.
Rod and Roger shared me. Roger had a hair trigger so he would take a few pokes and then turn me over to Rod when he was close. They had average cocks, but Rod's was short and thick, Roger's was long and thin. The combination worked for me. Rod shot off first, and Roger was ejaculating as his tool entered my ass.
Dulaney was next in line.
"It seems so personal," he muttered.
"It may be. Sometimes it's just a fuck," I said. "Sometimes it turns into a lot more than that. It's best when a guy loses it and shoots half his body weight into me. I love it when I guys spurts and twitches when he shoots."
"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked. "I'm kind of thick."
"You never know until you give it a try," I said. "I'm not exactly new to this."
"I'll try to be careful," Dulaney said as he nudged his tool into me. He was uncut and thick. It was bulbous, and he stretched my sphincter wide, but once he was past it, the diameter was a bit smaller. Since Rod and Roger had shot off in me, I was well lubricated. The thickest part of his cock was next to my prostate, so he was essentially massaging that tender organ. It was a perfect fit.
Dulaney moaned, "It's beautiful. It's so smooth." He was making little pumping motions. I had a sense his cock was getting harder as his cock rubbed my sperm lubricated ass.
"I have a feeling that things are getting personal for you," I said.
Dulaney looked uneasy. "I've never done this before," he whispered.
"Just relax and let your cock take control. It knows what to do," I said. "By the time you shoot off, you will know all you need to know about fucking." The thickest part of his cock was working my prostate and his knob was pushing Roger and Rod's sperm deeper into me. He shot off ten or twelve minutes later. I was surprised he didn't shoot a major internal organ into me.
He helped me out of the sling, and Ralph took my place. I was tired and went to bed. When I woke up at six the next morning Dulaney was in bed with me and Max was on the other side.
I woke Max trying to get to the bathroom. That was good for him since he was going to joined Roger, Clay and Templeton om a dawn fishing trip. I checked my e mails before the rest of the house woke up around eight. Edward had found that one of the investors was a friend of the Strauss family, a golf buddy of Belmont Strauss named Wilton Farrar. That could explain how Carlton Hill was known to the treasure hunters.
Ralph dropped by for breakfast and told me Belmont was made of money, a third of which was inherited, and two-third were earned. He and his wife were art collectors, but they were also generous donors to several major museums. If they were hoarding treasure, that conflicted with their well-known generosity. Years they had bought a painting looted by the Nazis. The bought it from a well-known gallery and returned it to the descendant of the original owner without a lawsuit or even a threat of legal action.
The fishing trip was a great success and we would have fresh fish at dinner that night. I told Templeton about the Farrar connection to the Strauss family. He knew Belmont since they were children. "He's a straight arrow, always has been," he explained. "I will check on Wilton. There may be something on him."
"He seems to have a clean record," I remarked.
"Catfish, there is clean and there is banker rumor clean. They aren't the same," Templeton replied.
It had become hot and muggy, and the sky clouded over. The phone rang with a pre-recorded tornado warning. We turned on the television and they were tracking a storm 15 miles to the north. It began to rain heavily. The warnings were almost continuous, so some guys watched the television.
My bedroom became the playroom. Men drifted in an out for recreational interludes. When Templeton, Ralph and I took turns in the sling the night before we sexually generous and open. We were nothing if not open minded and set the standard for enjoyable the men who were new to the scene. We weren't demanding but all the men knew we were open minded. I didn't want men to get out of their comfort zone, but it would not have been bad if that comfort zone expanded some.
All were welcome to my room, but it lacked privacy. Templeton's room and the other guest rooms on the second floor were used for more intimate couplings. My room was ideal for exhibitionist and watchers. It was great for multi-taskers.
Some men get confused and disoriented with too much sexual engagement. Others love it. One friend in Richmond told me he wished he had two cocks and two assholes so he could accommodate more men. I discovered that I can be fucked by one man, be sucked by another as I am sucking a third. I can do this while gathering information for a case. I can't do that during orgasms, but luckily orgasms are long. Even when I am entertaining a trio, one orgasm usually triggers the other men too shoot.
Roger was a bit shy. Button-downed executive Clay was wild. Clay was a recovering born again and one he was free, he had a lot of catching up to do. Dulaney had bottled it all up for years. His response to Red Dog's attack made you re-evaluate him as a man.
Dulaney was re-evaluating his sexual interests. Clay was a good-looking man with a taste for the top. Dulaney was not attractive and was turned on by Clay. Dulaney got in the sling. With his legs in the straps, his ass was wide open. Clay had just discovered the joys of fucking and Dulaney's ass was too inviting to pass up.
Much to their surprise, they were a sexual match made in heaven. Templeton wasn't much of a bottom. Clay's cock was a perfect fit for Dulaney's ass, and his ass was an amusement park for Clay. Both men discovered intense sexual pleasure, Dulaney's ass was shrink wrapped to the cock, but he quivered and gyrated to massage the invader. Clay's cock curved to ram the prostate. Clay shot off quickly flooding the hole.
Unexpectedly, Clay replaced Dulaney in the sling. Andy slipped into Clay's hole and soon left a sperm offering. Andy liked to pull out a little each time he ejaculated. That lubricated the entire fuck tunnel with sperm. Thirty seconds later Dulaney effortlessly slipped into the ass. He had a thick tool, but the sperm eased the way. He was excited and quickly added his seed to Clay's sperm stew.
Templeton came in the room as Dulaney pulled out. Clay's ass was gaping, so Templeton filled the void. Clay loved it. Andy and Dulaney had stretched the ass, so that Templeton horse cock fit for the first time. I watched Clay's face as the cock explored the deeper recesses of his ass. It was a loving fuck as Clay's ass caressed his lover's tool. Eventually, each of Templeton's ejaculations seemed like a kiss.
They cooled down on the bed, and Ralph came over to them. He whispered something to Templeton and then went to Clay's ass, licking it and coaxing sperm from the tender hole. I was sitting on chair watching. Andy had returned and he sucked me. It wasn't wild sex; it was contented sex.
The next morning all the house guests returned home, and I had a nice restful day. The storm had brought in cooler air, but it became warm afternoon. I went over to see Alex who was home from New York. Her soon to be ex-husband was being uncooperative. It was supposed to be a chance for him to be with the girls, but something had come up and that didn't work out. She found out he and his girl friend were at a party in the Hamptons. A photo of him was in a gossip column. Amy had found it and was disturbed. I asked he if she knew of Wilton Farrar.
"He used to play golf with Dad," she said. "They used to be friends, but Wilton shaves points at golf. Apparently, Dad was thinking about doing a business deal with him, but when Dad found out he was cheating he decided to not go ahead with it. Wilton got really mad at Dad and there was a scene at the club."
"If a guy cheats at a game, he probably cheats at life?" I asked.
"That's the way Dad sees it. Maybe that is going too far," she replied.
"My old uncle Jake said, a cheat is a cheat. Your father is a smart man," I said.
"Why do you want to know about Wilton Farrar?" she asked.
"Well, his name came up. It was not anything big, but he may have some problematic friends," I said.
"Did you know he spent the weekend here five or six years ago. He was returning from meeting somewhere, and we were on the way," Alex volunteered. "He liked it here and said that the location had potential. I don't mind it when people compliment the Carlton Hill, but when they say it has potential, I am uneasy."
I smiled. "You think that being beautiful and historic is enough? You can't visualize it cut up into small lots?"
"That's part of it, but do you ever go to a person's house and say it has potential?" she asked. Amy and the girls came in and the conversation turned to the dig. Amy wanted to do a school paper on it and wanted to know if Dr. Dumont might be helpful.
"The only problem with Dr. Dumont is that he will tell you too much," I said.
"I'm fine with that," Amy said. "I found something in the attic you might be interested in," she added as she handed me a book. It was titled Pirates on the Chesapeake, by M. E. Smith and was dated 1907. There was an embossed picture on the cover of a house tht looked like Carlton Hill. When you looked closely the house had a pillared entrance porch that Carlton Hill lacked.
"It's an adventure story for girls. It features a shy but smart little girl who avoids capture by pirates when they attack her house and capture her family. She saves them with the help od devoted slaves. They never find the treasure they buried. I looked her up and she wrote a series of books set in the south. She was briefly popular and did stories about Cape Hatteras, Savanna and Charleston," she explained. "By the way, the pirate was Black Bart."
"I wonder if that was how the buried treasure stories started?" I asked.
"The book was around the house for years, mostly because of the cover. Most visitors though it was Carlton Hill, so it was a conversation piece. My Grandfather told visitors it was a generic Southern plantation, not our house," Alex explained.
"Stories about buried treasure don't need to be based on fact," I said. "I suspect that no more than ten of twenty percent of the stories are even partially true," I said.
"I'm afraid the that percentage may apply to the number of treasure hunters who are sane," Alex observed. I guessed that percentage was a bit high.
I was not surprise that after arrest, the Totten family lied and fabricated stories before they broke down and told the truth. They combined being bad liars and feuds with most of their neighbors. The neighbors thought every chance to testify against the Totten was a dream come true. Most of the family confessed to get less time in jail. They were the arsonists and muggers. They worked for a man they called Mr. Jones and his side kick Nathan West.
They thought West was the brains, but Jones was the muscle and the field man. Jones had a taste for violence, which the Totten crew liked.