Catfish Goes Home. 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@aol.com
My role in Catfish & Company diminished in a natural and logical way. I was a good judge of character and my people were good, and they hired good people. The firm had a low public profile, thus weren't attractive to modern business types. The leadership was protective of our reputation. While the firm was profitable, profit was never our objective.
It turns out that good work generates profit. We also had a good work environment for our staff. We recognized talent and skills in both our operatives and in the support staff. We took care of our people.
I was doing less and less. I was getting older. For some reason, some people thought I was prone to disasters, such as loosing a leg, and surviving an airplane crash. These seemed to be incidental to me, although I recognized my future as a marathon runner was limited. Apparently, some new staff thought I was a character.
I had a visit from Cousin Buddy about a problem with his younger son, Harry. Harry had married a girl from the next county five years ago. They had two kids and ran a large farm inherited from his wife's father. Buddy wasn't prone to be direct, but it seemed to have something to do with Harry's neighbor. There was something wrong. Buddy asked if I might look into it.
Buddy came with a pal, Upton Davis. Upton was a member of the volunteer fire department and came to Richmond to try to get surplus pumper truck. Upton was thirty-five and a handsome man, I think Upton must have been warned about my well-known good looks. I also seemed that Buddy may have told him about my sexual preferences and endowment. He tended to stare at my crotch. Buddy adjusted his balls, his normal sign that he was in the mood.
I decided to show them around my apartment ending with my bedroom and the attached shower. from time to time, I was wheelchair bound, so the shower was huge. Nature took its course, and we were all naked and under the shower ten minutes later. Upton and Buddy shared my cock.
I was fully erect and oozing precum. That seemed to inspire Upton. He was into cock ooze, and that usually meant that the sucker was into fresh sperm. Cock juices rarely were to an amateur's taste. Eventually, I sucked Buddy and took his load as Upton took mine. They had to get home, but I thought Upton had potential.
Harry lived in Rauley County was named after Sir Walter Raleigh by people who couldn't spell. It was small, little known and the citizens were ornery. The didn't misspell Raleigh; they just spelled it their way. Somehow a little part of the Appalachians detached itself and located a bunch of its rocks in the county. This made farming difficult for anyone other than ornery farmers.
I only casually knew Harry and I gave him a call. Harry told me it wasn't exactly his problem; it was his neighbor's problem. His neighbor was Carlo Della Porta. He was developing a vineyard on a formerly derelict farm. The land was almost ideal for growing grapes. Vineyards were common in the foothills of the Blue Ridge. This portion of Rauley County had the same soil.
Carlo had been wounded in what was considered to be an accidental bullet from an off-season hunter. The local Sherriff wasn't worried about it. Carlo wasn't local born, and the locals were not accepting of new people.
Eddie, Harry's wife met Mrs. Della Porta at the local hospital's maternity ward. Julia Della Porta had two older children and she had her third two hours before Eddie had her first. Eddie had some problems and Julia was a pilar of strength and helpful. They became best friends. Harry met Carlo and they hit it off.
Harry was suspicious of the stray bullet from a hunter theory. Carlo had been in the vineyard. They were young vines it was away from the woods. He also knew there had been other incidents, minor harassment. Harry also had a recent, unsolicited offer to buy his farm. Harry told me Rauley County was hardly a hot real estate market.
I decided to make a visit. Buddy came to Richmond and took me to meet Harry. I hadn't seen Harry in a while. He was 35 now and had begun to look like his father. He was a better-looking version of his father. You did need to like a lot of red hair to appreciate both men. Eddie was a stunning blond. It turned out that the problem at the birth was technically called twins, a boy, and a girl. The girl had red hair and the boy was blond.
That evening the Della Porta's came to dinner. They were outgoing and very Italian. My missing leg was the most interesting thing the two older children had ever seen. I gave them the abbreviated story of the incident, leaving out the sex crime aspect. The kids loved it.
Carlo knew the full story and he was impressed. I didn't look like much, but I was clearly a real man in his eyes. We talked and he told me there were other incidents he hadn't told to his wife. None of them were suspicious on their own, but together they were potentially problematic. I got some names from them and sent them to the office geeks that night. I included Carlo's name just to be careful.
The geeks tended to work through the night, and I had a message from them the next morning. The firm that made an offer on Harry's farm didn't exist. They were checking the names of the nonexistent farm's officers. Carlo was exactly what he said he was, the third son of a successful vintner. One of the geeks was into wine. He was impressed by the wine.
Later in the morning, I had a good tour of Carlo's vineyard and met his staff. He had two men from Italy and three local men working for him. The job opportunities in the area were limited and the local guys seemed happy to have a job.
That afternoon, Harry showed me the local sites. There had been a minor skirmish during the last days of the Civil War, but that was both the first and last memorable event in the county. I met Harry's neighbor on the other side of the farm, Throckmorton Dulaney. It was two in the afternoon and he was barely able to walk.
We then went to see the neighbor to the rear of Carlo's property, Miss Sally MacPherson. She raised beef. Her family had owned the property since the 1840s. We asked if she had seen poachers in the area. She made it clear that she hated poachers and trespassers and she would teach them a lesson they wouldn't forget.
I asked if she would call the police on them.
"Hell no!" she replied. "Don't worry, no one will find the bodies!" and then burst into laughter. I had the feeling she was only half joking. I also had the feeling that while Carlo was okay, Eddie and the twins were the family she didn't have.
The only definite thing was that Carlo was shot, but I had an uneasy feeling that something was not right. Carlo was hit by a rifle bullet from a distance. He could not have staged it without an accomplice. You would need to trust the shooter and he would need a be a marksman.
Harry took me home the next day. I met with my office staff and they had been busy. The names were a dead end, but they had looked for known aliases. Three of the six officers of the non-existent company we known swindlers. There is no way 50% of the officers were accidentally involved.
One of my older operatives was a Civil War buff. The county was served by one of the two railroads that were still in operation connecting Richmond with the remains of the Confederacy in 1865. The evacuation train stopped in Rauley County to refuel. As is typical of any train from Richmond during the evacuation of the Confederate government, the train carried tons of mythical gold.
While everyone knows this happened, in the 160 plus years since the evacuation not a single clue as to the event or the gold has been uncovered. These stories made sightings of Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster seem real. One of the geeks checked a map and the rail line was a mile from Carlo's farm.
My office informed the State Police of a potential scam. They knew the names of the men we had found, but the pretend corporate name was new to them. My office maintained a secret but friendly connection to the police.
While this wasn't exactly a case, the staff and especially the geeks liked my little projects. Some were retired men and women who had lots of time and a need to be useful. I did have a good track record on my guesses and suspicions.
Four days later Miss Sally MacPherson intercepted three men on their way to the Della Porta house. She was wounded and one of her dogs was killed. At least one of the men had an automatic weapon. Carlo called the police and they arrived with the State Police. Sally had been behind a boulder, and the weapons had no effect on the rock. They got her leg. At day light it seemed that Sally wounded someone, and her dogs, Beowulf, Hell Hound and Nightmare had an effect. Nightmare was killed but he had chunks of flesh in his mouth, as did Beowulf. DNA is a wonderful thing, and the State Labs would soon work their magic.
By the evening we had lined up additional farm workers for the Della Porta farm as well as for Harry and Eddie's place. I went to stay with a Patrolman William Jones in his double wide. He had been the only local cop to realize there was a major problem from the start. Jones was about fifty and Cousin Buddy was a close friend.
Jones was a patrol man because of his sexual preferences. He wasn't fired because his grandfather had been a State Senator, and his father was a judge. He hadn't met me, but he knew all about me from Cousin Buddy. When I said he knew all about me, I meant all.
I went with him to see Sally. She had been shot in the leg and was battling with the doctors. I had a calming effect on her. Since I had lost one leg and broken the other in a plane crash, I was an expert. I told her that trying to rush things would delay recovery. She wanted to go home, and I told her I had some female operatives who could help and protect her.
I told Sally they might be a bit rough and not very ladylike. One was a former professional wrestler, and the other was a former Marine.
She was fine with that, saying, "I don't think a ballet dancer would be right for the job." I knew a few ballet dancers who were hard as nails. Sally was good about Nightmare's death. In her mind, he died in battle doing his duty.
I went to the Della Porta Vineyard next. Carlo's father had flown in that morning in his private jet. Massimo Della Porto was a dominating man. He spoke perfect English. He had met the Sherriff and had not been impressed. I suspected I was so odd looking he was taken back. I outlined my possible security plans to protect the farms and explained my plan to find the perpetrators.
He went off and I suspected he checked my credentials. I later found out he called the Governor. Catfish & Company got good reviews form the State Police and local police. For some reason I was described as an odd duck,
When Massimo returned an hour later, he said, "Send me the bill, when can they be here?"
I told him they would be here that evening. We all had a glass of wine and I returned to Jones' double wide. Jones has a large computer set up in his living room. I told him we were sending a heat sensitive drone to patrol. Jones was like twelve-year-old getting his first bike. We were setting up a pretend "secret" headquarters in a motel. That was to see if it attracted any attention from the bad guys.
Jones was a surprisingly good cook and an interesting man. we both thought the level of attention on Della Porta was over the top and was bigger than a real estate scam. There was something bigger going on.
I had to use Jones's bathroom because the guest bath was too small. Jones was helpful. He was in better shape than I had guessed, and he sported an uncut white snake between his legs.
"Buddy told me you were more cock than man," he said.
"Is that a problem?" I asked.
"Shit no!" he said. "Do you eat cum like Buddy does?
"I sure do, but I like it fresh from the cock," I replied. "I like to shoot mine in the mouth or ass."
Jones was one of those guys who gets better looking when his cock gets bigger. He was on the high side of average when I started sucking and pretty damn good looking when I took a break.
He tended to play the macho stud, but his erection changed all that. He was a by the book cop and changed into a willing fuck mate with a good attitude and willingness to please. He was a skilled cock sucker too. I remembered playing with Buddy. He was a firm do unto other as the do unto you guy. Jones seemed to think I was fragile, so he was careful. I took his memorable load, and he took mine. I appreciated that since some men run low in energy after they shot off.
We went to bed. We were both early risers and Jones made a nice deposit in my ass before he went to work. I got on the computer and got news from my office. They had been checking the possible Italian connections. Massimo was an important figure financially and politically. His vineyards were a collection of 152 small operations. Massimo didn't own them, he marketed and distributed them throughout Europe. He was credited with saving the smaller operations. He also bought vineyards that were failing and kept then going. Years earlier he had resisted a Mafia effort to control the business.
To say that rang a bell was an understatement. I called a pal in Washington and talked with Milton Townsend, a former intelligence officer. While he was retired, he had contacts and kept an eye on European criminal activity.
The Della Porta family was under continuous guard by the police and private security. Milton wondered if the family thought that a small county in rural Virginia was safe. He also knew that an important Mafia Don was going to trial. "Perhaps the murder of a prominent family member would send a message." He suggested.
That made some sense to me. I sent that information to my office. They would send it to the right people. I knew that sometimes you need the right messenger to deliver information.
The Sherriff of Rauley County had one good trait. He was stupid and a terrible judge of character, but at least he was lazy. He didn't spend much time at the office, and he wasn't interested in day-to-day management. He didn't know what Jones was doing. Jones was a good policeman, and he had a half dozen police officers who knew the score. Jones was a shadow Sherriff.
They knew the community and were on the lookout for trouble. Rauley was not much of a county, but the police more or less knew all the residents. The county had only one school system and three school next to the Courthouse.
There were no gay men or women in the county, as was typical of rural Virginia. There were men who liked to mess around once and a while. While you could mess around with women, but if you messed with men there were no unwanted pregnancies and no demand that you get married.
As far as I could tell, the difference between messing around and having sex with men was so subtle that it almost didn't exist. I was a stranger, but a guy with a cock the size of mine was unlikely to be a stranger for long. Everyone knew I lived in Jones' trailer.
I had a visit for Willoughby Johnson III, the Court Clerk. He handled court records deeds and wills. Will was prim, proper, and well aware of his status. He inherited the position from his father. We talked about property transfers and any unusual inquiries about local properties. Prim, proper. And full of himself are not good traits in my mind. Knowing his stuff is good. Will knew his stuff.
There had been some non-local men making inquiries about properties. Will had their names and addresses. His helpfulness also involved checking my crotch for its recreational potential. I made a few adjustments to insure he grasped the full potential.
Will asked if it was cramped in the trailer with two men. He mentioned Jones was a big man. I said we had no problems. I asked if he knew Jones well.
"We are old friends," he replied. "He mentioned you and he hit it off. He said there was a lot more to you than meets the eye. He told me you are a big man in many ways."
"It's nice he said that, but being strictly truthful, only one part of me is big," I replied.
"Jones mention that. Would you think I am trashy if I told you that only one body part turns me on big time?" he asked. "I like sex with men, but I'm not very affectionate."
I laughed. "That's not a problem depending on your ass," I replied. Willoughby struck me as an uptight guy, prim and proper. He unzipped his pants and dropped them exposing his cock. He was half hard and looking good.
"I think I can take it," he said.
"We will know that shortly. You do have the price of admission," I said. He stepped closer and my lips caressed his knob. He moaned. Ten minutes later I was in his ass. His sphincter blocked my way.
I think Willoughby had a split personality. Professionally he was a conservative, detail oriented, unemotional men. With a naked man, he was a sex crazed slut. I gave a hard thrust, popped past his sphincter and discovered the slut. Calling a man, a slut is usually an insult. When your cock is deep in his ass, it is a high compliment.
Will's ass was tight, firm, and welcoming. He had the stamina of a bull and didn't get tired. I explored his ass as much as I could without shooting off.
Jones came home while we were going at it. He stripped and I let him fuck Will. When Jones shot off. Will pulled out and wanted me to fuck. "Push my sperm deeper into Will. He'll love that," Jones assured me.
Jones knew Will well. he loved it. I shot off and push Jones' cum even deeper. Will was wiped out but loved it. Will dressed and left.
"Will's a good guy, smart and dependable," Jones said. "Did you have any trouble getting your cock up his ass?"
"Let's just say, I doubt he is a virgin," I replied. Jones burst into laughter.