Millennium Construction Company

Published on Mar 19, 2002

Gay

Catfish & Company 7

This is a sexual fantasy with no effort made at real life experiences. If you object to gay fiction, DO NOT READ. This story is not for you. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymen@aol.com.

I woke at 5:30 hearing Buck's moans. The Sheriff had his cock deep in Buck's ass. Earl saw me open my eyes.

"I tried to wait until a more decent hour, but I just couldn't hold back." Earl said. "I figured I'd do some in depth investigation."

"That's fine with me. I'm not opposed to some investigation myself." I said.

"Do you mind if I take a breather and let Catfish take me for a spin around the block?" Earl asked Buck.

"You will come back and finish me off?" Buck asked.

"Either I'll do it or Catfish will. We're all friends, aren't we?"

"He's awfully big." Buck said, sounding a bit uncertain. My cock had met his tonsils, but the nights play had been all oral. I love to fuck, but I had fallen asleep before I had a chance to bring the subject up.

"We can play it by ear. There is this powerful itch in my ass that Catfish needs to scratch!" Earl said. Earl pulled out of Buck, got on his back on the edge of the bed and put his feet on my shoulders. I shoved in to the hilt on the first thrust. That isn't usually the nicest way to do that, but I had a suspicion Earl would like it. I was right. The precum stated to flow from his cock like a mountain stream in flood. He was one happy man.

"I forgot to tell you." I said. "I ain't rushed one little bit this morning. You are on a local, not an express. I want to take my time." Earl smiled. Buck straddled Earl's head and let the sheriff suck his balls. I had a feeling he wanted him to eat his ass, but was shy.

"Shit it's big." Buck said looking at my donkey dong. I pulled out, so only the tip of the head was in Earl's ass. I slowly slipped it in, so Buck could see every inch disappear. I pulled it out again."

"Tempted?" I asked. We were facing each other across Earl's body. Buck's cock was hard and pointing up to the ceiling. "Is it watching my cock or feeling Earl's tongue in your ass that's turning you on?"

"That's a really hard question. I don't really know." Buck said. "Do you think it will fit?

"It's hard to tell until you try it." I replied. "I've been in one or two asses in my day and you never know. Sucking is pretty dependable. You find a bad sucker once in a while, but that's rare. Fucking is a crap shoot. It depends on the cock and the ass. Sometimes it doesn't work at all. The cock's too big, or the ass is too small. Sometimes it just doesn't do nothing. It's as if your cock misses every good spot. But when it is good, it's great. Like it is for Earl now."

Earl moaned in agreement. "I love to top and never much liked the bottom. My cock feels great in a quivering ass. My ass is worth shit." I continued.

"You never liked it in the ass?" Buck asked?

"Never until a month ago." I said. "I ended up getting porked by a goofy looking EMT. Mark doesn't look like much, but his cock and my ass were made for each other. I couldn't believe it. It was good." I was getting close, so I slicked some lube on Earl's cock and pulled out of his ass. Then I straddled him and sat back on his throbbing cock.

Earl's cock wasn't a perfect fit for my ass, but it was damn good. Buck took some initiative of his own and got Earl's legs in the air again and he popped his cock in the Sheriff's hole. Earl looked as if he were going to pass out.

Buck had been the football team Captain in school and team work was his specialty. Within a few seconds Buck had me lifting up on Earl's cock and then sitting back as he pulled out and rammed in. We tried a variant, I would be up when Buck thrust in. It was hard to believe you could have so much cock and ass in one area. Earl was shivering so bad I could hardly hold him down.

If I were a betting man, I would bet Earl had the best orgasm in his life that morning. I couldn't believe how long that puppy twitched. We disentangled ourselves. Buck looked at me and I looked at him. He bent over and opened wide. He winced a few times as I slowly worked my way into his love tunnel.

He lost his erection and I was about to give up, when I hit a good spot. It was the right spot, maybe not as good as the place deep in Earl's ass, but really good. When he began to enjoy it, my cock responded accordingly and that extra bit of size really hit the bull's eye for Buck. I flopped him over from doggy style to spread eagle and he liked that a lot too. All in all, it was good morning sexually.

"Damn. I'm getting close. I want it to last and can't do it pumping you." I told Buck. Buck looked uncertain.

"I really wouldn't mind giving you a ride." he said, "Do you think that would be okay?" I'm a sucker for a guy who asks politely. I traded places with Buck. He slowly slipped his six incher into my cum lubricated ass. It was just the right size for a social fuck.

"What does this Preacher man, Dr. Paul, have that attracts people?" I asked.

"Simple answers for complex questions. Everything is black and white." Buck said. "My daughter says it's all black and white, no grays, and most of all, no color. She says, they think you are either 100% virtuous and Christian, or you deserve the death penalty." Earl rallied and joined in the conversation.

"The guy reminds me of John Brown." Earl added. "I am a true son of Virginia, I was brought up to hate him, but slavery was bad and needed to be done away with. John Brown was right about that. It was everything else he was wrong about. Mass murder and insurrection can't be the first step to achieving paradise."

"My daughter didn't agree with Ovid, her husband and he tried to beat her." Buck said. "She was a `disobedient daughter of Eve.' he said. She took off with the kids and moved in with me. Ovid even tried to change his name to Matthew, because Ovid was a pagan poet! The preacher seemed to think regular beatings were the way to find God. I hate to sound like a pop psychiatrist, but Dr. Paul liked beatings and absolute obedience a bit more than is healthy. He wants his flock to prove how much they love whatever he thinks of as God." Buck was slow fucking and doing a good job of it. I was enjoying myself more than I expected.

"Some people like that stuff. He told them you can't live with an infidel. That's what screwed up Buddy's wife. Buddy's sweet, loving, kind, considerate and a good provider, but that doesn't count." Earl said. "You need to demonstrate in front of women's clinics, you need to attack gays, lesbians and radical feminists, if you are to be saved. All sins are equal. Having a beer after work is just as bad as killing someone. Sin is sin and you'll go to hell, if you don't do exactly what the preacher says."

I told Buck I was getting stiff, so we traded places. Buck was nice and relaxed now. I slipped in with no problem. I went in slow and watched him. When my cock head hit the right spot, Buck moaned. I pulled back and tried it again. Buck had the same reaction and I rubbed my cock head over the spot a few times in quick succession.

"Catfish, watching you fuck must be like having watched Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel. You're a master at it." Buck didn't say anything because he was shooting his load all over his chest. It was a hands free orgasm. As I said, Buck was a handsome man and he knew it. He usually had every hair in place. The sperm sprayed over his gut and chest and was messy, but kind of pretty. It was good to see him so relaxed and unconcerned.

"You haven't popped yet, have you?" Earl asked.

"Nope," I said, "but you need more recovery time, don't you"

"Yes, but I am nothing if not a good sport." the Sheriff answered. "I'm willing."

"I like it better if my partner is really enthusiastic." I said. "What chance is there that I may be able to work some play time in later today?" Earl smiled.

"I would guess you've got a real good chance." he said. That was good enough for me. Buck had to leave, so he showered and went to work. Earl and I spent the next hour talking about the Victory Temple. Earl had the Southern Sheriff look down solid, but he was no slouch in the investigative department. It helped that nothing ever happened in town, so people tended to remember things.

The auction of the Victoriaville Seed and Feed had been a big event fifteen years before. It had gone out of business just after a delivery of six new tractors. They were available at a real good price. The gasoline containers were made with name tags after several people failed to return the older, unlabeled containers, pissing the owner off. He had name plates welded to fifty brand new containers. This had been a year before the auction and the sheriff assumed all were sold.

"The auctioneer remembered them. He sold them in lots of ten and this caused a stir. Several guys wanted them sold individually, because they only wanted one." Earl said. "The volunteer fire department bought 20, as did the ESSO station. Ten went to Clem Jones, the dairy farmer." Something clicked in my head. I almost remembered something, but it wouldn't come into focus.

"I'm tracing down the remaining containers. I have a deputy looking into them now." Earl said. "I have two contacts inside the church. Damn if it doesn't bother me to call that place a church!" The phone rang. It was Mom who needed me home. The party was that afternoon and some furniture needed to be moved. I said I would come.

Earl and I showered and went our ways. Earl said, he had some meetings at the Court House and would get back to me later. I got another call. It was my Aunt Becky. She apologized for calling, but she wanted me to get a haircut and mustache trim. Becky said she knew it was stupid, but Mom didn't like my handlebar and bushy sideburns. It would mean a lot to her if the pictures of the party were of me trimmed and neat. I said sure.

I dropped in at the local barber shop and was shorn. This nice woman took her time and when I looked in the mirror after she was done, I hardly recognized myself. I sported a handlebar mustache and a two pronged goatee. I had sideburns and hadn't shaved in a week. When she was finished I looked like a banker, or a college professor. I had a carefully groomed beard and trimmed mustache. I didn't look like a redneck at all.

The woman looked at me. "I should have taken a picture of you before! No one would believe it." she said, then she quickly apologized. "It's not that you weren't . . . . interesting before." I stopped her and said I knew exactly what she meant. It was hard to believe. It only cost me twelve dollars. I couldn't believe that either.

Mom almost cried when she saw me. The new look was a hit. Edith refused to believe it was me, until I talked. We had a good day. I moved the furniture and talked with my Aunts and Mom and caught up on all the relatives. The party was nice. Everyone I knew growing up was a lot older, but I was closer to being famous than any of them were. I had my picture in the nation wide media and Mom loved every minute.

I hadn't exactly been a trial when I was growing up, but I wasn't everyone's idea of a dream child either. Mom had always defended me and now her faith in me was justified to all. Mom didn't crow. She left that to Aunts Ellen and Becky. A few cousins came, it was a midweek party and most had to work.

I was hoping to find out more about the Victory Temple, but Mom moved in solidly Methodist and Presbyterian circles and they didn't associate with Victory Temple types. The only luck I had was with the Presbyterian Minister, Rev. William Williams. He was a young guy, outgoing and about as unlike the Ministers I remembered as a kid as he could be. I was telling my story about the explosion and walking through the broken stained glass windows. The glass was almost like snow on the ground, but brightly colored.

He wanted to know what was being done about them. I told him what I knew. He said, he wanted to organize a campaign to raise money to replace them. He figured if several hundred churches contributed some money, they could replace the windows. He had mentioned it to some of the local Ministers, and they were interested. It seemed like a good idea to me.

I asked, if the Victory Temple would contribute. A cloud came over his face. "As far as I can tell, the only charity that place supports is the Dr. Paul Retirement Fund." Williams said. "I try to be charitable, but it's hard. He writes these awful letters to the papers. I write rebuttals and my wife gets death threats."

"Death threats?" I asked.

"Well, more prank calls than death threats." Williams said. A woman walked up beside him.

"Will, tell the truth! They are genuine, 100% real, death threats." she said. He introduced the woman as his wife, Julia.

"Have you told the police about these threats?" I asked.

"No, I really think they are prank calls." Rev. Williams said again. Julia disagreed and I had to think that she might well be right. "I do despise that group. Harmless threats are one thing. Tearing families apart is quite another. Two years ago, Elder Clem Jones died and his grandson didn't even come to the funeral. Ovid said, he wouldn't go into a house of sin."

"How in hell can a Presbyterian Church be a house of sin!" Julia asked. It was becoming clear that Julia Williams was my kind of woman. "The poor man left Ovid everything he owned. Ovid turned into a pompous and sanctimonious prick!" She looked at me and blushed. "I am sorry, I think I just flunked another test in the meek and mild Presbyterian Minister's wife test." My Aunt Ellen was walking by and said, "And we love you for it dear!" I laughed.

"It sounds to me like you are on the mark." I said, "My cousin, Buddy, has the same problems."

"You are Buddy and Susan's cousin?" Williams asked. "He's a good man. I'm really worried about the children who fall into the cults grasp. They carry the `Spare the rod and spoil the child' maxim to an extreme. I've been trying to get county welfare to look into it, but they won't touch it with a ten-foot pole. I'm on the School Board and we need to try to save them."

My Mom came by to make sure I saw Mr. Edland, my high school history teacher. I had no idea he was still alive. He looked exactly the same, only more so. He told me, I looked like King George V. I asked, if that was good and he said, it was a damn sight better than any other look I had tried. He asked about the bombing. Mr. Edland had been in Europe with Eisenhower. He had told us stories about the Blitz of London and fighting the Nazis.

"It looks to me like we may have the same types after us again." he said. "Do you think these are home grown?"

"I'm afraid I do." I said.

"I wish I could fight again." he said. "You'll have to fight for me."

"I already am." I said. Mr. Edland shook my hand.

Aunt Becky came by and asked me to move Rev. Williams' car, so Aunt Edith could leave. She gave me the keys and told me it was a black Taurus. There were two almost identical cars in the driveway. I tried the keys in one and they didn't work, so I open the other. I should have known that Edith would drive something odd and unattractive,. She must have been the only person in Virginia to drive a Pacer. Edith left early, I assumed there was too much good will in the house for her to be happy.

The party wound down and I helped clean up. Momma and the remaining Aunts were tired, so I went back to the Motel. Mom packed me a care package of left over food, just in case I got hungry on the drive to the Motel. Sometimes. Mothers can't stop being Mothers.

I got a call from Earl at 7:00. He was at an accident and would come by after it was cleared up. He arrived at 8:30 with Buddy and a deputy named Slim. They all devoured the care package and we settled down to a nice evening of sex.

Next: Chapter 25: Catfish and Company 8


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