Catfish Takes a Vacation
Part 4
By Bald Hairy Man
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.
Boris turned out to be a trip. He had to be the most willing and eager bottom I'd ever encountered, with the tightest ass. As a muscle builder, he had buns of steel and getting my cock into his love tunnel was hard. It was a new experience for him and me.
Boris wanted my cock. He had watched me screw his lover and had been turned on. His ass just wasn't cooperating. He was tense and excited and this is a poor recipe for an easy first fuck. Ivan was helpful. He lubricated Boris and he did what he could to get the muscle builder to relax.
The poppers turned out to be the secret weapon. He took a good and long snort and his ass parted like the Red Sea. My cock played Moses and his prostate turned out to be the Promised Land. The poppers only lasted for a short while, but it was enough time for my cock to get deep into his ass. Then he closed up again.
After all the work it took to fuck him, I have to admit Boris enjoyed it a lot. His sphincter clamped shut on my cock, so Boris provided a natural cock ring. My meat was trapped in his ass and there was no way I could lose my erection in his ass' iron grip. It took him sometime to get use to the invader, but after a few minutes, the pressure on his internal sex organs began to work its magic.
When Boris was really getting into it, Ivan touched my shoulder. "Do you think I could try it?" he asked. I pulled out and let him in. Boris tightened up as soon as I withdrew, so Ivan had to force his cock into the hole. I gave Boris another sniff and, as before, Ivan's cock slid deep into Boris' insides. I had been warming him up and the two men obviously enjoyed the experience. Threesomes can be tricky; especially if one of the three is left out. I happened to be left out, so it was okay.
Boris and Ivan were alone in a sexual cocoon. Once they connected, there was no one else in the room, except for them. I was just a spectator, and that was fine with me. They were lovers who had just reached a new pinnacle of sexual pleasure. Ivan had been there before, but Boris was young and this was the first time he had realized the total impact of sexual ecstasy.
Suddenly there was cum spurting everywhere. It was Boris, but when Ivan saw his lover shoot, he pulled out and climaxed. When sex is messy, it's usually good and there was sticky Russian man seed everywhere. They calmed down and rested after the orgasms. Unfortuately, I had to be in my hotel for the next morning, so Boris had to get dressed and drive me back. It had been a good night for all of us. I had gained on my investigation and the sex had been good.
I got to walk around the city the next morning. I had no real idea what St. Petersburg looked like other than I had guessed Leningrad was drab. It hadn't occurred to me you would paint a city in bright colors. Gold, yellow, green, red and blue buildings were all over the place. Not wimpy pastels, but bright, brilliant colors were everywhere. The Winter Palace was Green, with white trim in a gold square.
In Virginia our classical buildings were white or brick, here they were every color of the rainbow. Our buildings are also small; everything in St. Petersburg is huge. After wandering around the city, I returned to the hotel and found a message waiting for me from Anatol. He wanted to meet me at the baths at 4:00. I called Ivan and he told me this was normal. At the baths, someone could search my clothes and make sure I wasn't wired, or carrying a weapon. That information was good for me to know. I figured I could put some information confirming my identity in my pockets.
I got to the Central Baths at 3:30 and was in the steam room when Anatol showed up. Boris was with him as were two other men I didn't know. One was clearly a bodyguard. Anatol introduced the older man as George and the other man as Ali. George was middle height, but very solid. He was bald, with a bushy mustache. His body was as hairy as mine, but the hair was curly and pitch black. Ali was tall and thin with a thick, brown beard and muscular body. He was moderately hairy. George's English wasn't very good, but Ali's was. He served as a translator. , which I interpreted as awe. I figured we had moved well up the status ladder in St. Petersburg's underworld. This was unexpected, since I was small potatoes. I couldn't figure out why I deserved an important man. We all talked for a while, then went to the pool and dove in to cool off. When we sat in the sauna, naked, it all became clear to me.
The sauna was empty except for me George and Ali. Apparently, if you were important enough you could make a room private. It took a minute for me to realize George was a size queen. Ali talked to me about my business, while George stared at my cock and all but drooled. George looked like a deer caught in headlights, transfixed by my cock.
They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I don't want to sound tacky, but I think I've found another way. I also think a guy might as well use his assets, so I rearranged my cock to give him a better view. My cock always responds to attention, either by touch or even by being looked at, so it firmed up some. I was talking with Ali, but my cock was doing all the convincing.
I was at half-staff when George got up and said something to Ali. Ali came over to me and said, we would go to the warehouse now. George had seen enough and had decided I was all right. We left the sauna, jumped in the pool again, dressed, then left the baths in George's car. It was a huge Mercedes.
We drove quite a distance into the suburbs of the city, then entered the courtyard of the building Ali said, was a former monastery. The place looked run down to me. We drove into a stable, then went into a big hall. It was empty, but to the side a small door led to a stairway into the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, we went through another door and into a huge cellar. The ceiling was vaulted and the room was fully air-conditioned. It was a shock.
Everywhere there were boxes and crates, all lined up in an orderly way. There were several men and women there who looked quite respectable. To one side, there was a brilliantly illuminated area. There were paintings, sculptures and art objects there, being worked on by several men and women. One of the paintings was badly damaged and it was obviously being conserved. I saw a number of central American ceramics in various states of repair. They led me down an aisle to a series of racks hung with Czarist portraits.
They all looked great and I guessed they were heavily restored. We talked price and then I asked about Mayan artifacts. George took me to another part of the huge room. There were cases there. He flicked on a light and it looked like a gallery of Mayan art. He took a box out and opened it. Inside were pieces of a broken pot. He was explaining, he bought fragments and gave them to his restorers, who would reconstruct the object. He was quite excited about this. George's English got better as we talked. Apparently his poor English at the baths was a way for him to get to know a guy.
We talked price and I found his prices were good. I asked him, how he could keep the prices so low? "Good labor is cheap here in Russia!" he said. "It would be three or four times the cost if it were done in London or Paris."
"The objects look great," I said. "And the price is good too."
"I was a museum curator in Armenia when the Soviet Union dissolved," George said. "I lost my job along with a good portion of the staff. I found there was a market for art objects, so we set up this business. We look for damaged art works, restore them and then sell them. The provenance for the objects is obscure, but the quality of the work is first class." He had a slight English accent now; he had learned from the BBC.
"They look like museum pieces." I remarked.
"They look museum quality, but most aren't," George said. "Good. but not great objects; too much restoration. Most are very common; I don't get the first rate things. They are too hard to sell and impossible for the new owner to display. You wouldn't believe what some Arabs are trying to sell! A well-known object is bad enough, but one illustrated in a standard Art History textbook is ludicrous. What in hell can you do with it?"
"Would any of these objects cause problems for my clients?" I asked.
Ali smiled and answered. "There is a chance, but it's fairly slim. Most archaeological objecst were taken from someone. You can make a good case they are better treated here than they would be in a attic storage room in Honduras, or Basra for that matter," he explained.
"We give people a chance to have a work of art that would otherwise be hidden in closet somewhere." George said. "Some of our suppliers are suspect, but we get their lesser objects."
"You're the processor, not the man in the mines?" I asked.
"That's the way I see it. And Russia is the perfect place for this trade. Everything here is confused and unclear." Ali said. "Things disappear and then appear, maybe thousands of miles away. Perhaps in Prague, or in a quiet district of Mexico City."
"Let's go to my house for some refreshment and we can work out some of the details." George said. We left the cellar and went into one of the buildings next to an impressive, onion domed church. The building was run down.
Once we were behind the decrepit door, the building was beautifully preserved and restored. "This was the Abbots house," Ali explained. We went up a winding stair into George's apartment. It was simply decorated, almost austere, with comfortable, but sparse furniture. It was also very hot. The temperature was almost tropical.
Ali got drinks and George went to his bedroom and returned in a robe. The drinks were ice cold. "You may need to get more comfortable; you are over dressed." George said. Ali had gone off. When he returned, he was in a robe, but he hadn't bothered to tie the belt. He was all but naked.
I began to take off my coat and shirt. George smiled in approval. "Anatol said, you are a very open minded man." he said. "Friendly too."
"If that means I like sex with men, he's sure right about that!" I said. "I try to be friendly too, but to tell you the truth, a lot of the friendliness is just because I like sex a lot and I can't seem to get enough of it." George looked like he was a happy man. I was dropping my pants by then and George was taking off the robe. He was half hard.
"I take it, you like big meat?" I said.
George looked worried. "Does that bother you?"
"If I had a small cock, it might." I said. "But that's not my problem. I ain't much of a looker, but you would be surprised how many men want my cock. I assume that includes you."
"That it does, my friend." George replied, as he came over to me and fondled my cock. We went into his bedroom. Ali joined us in the bed. Ali's cock was fully hard by now and was as long as mine, but was much thinner. He was uncut and his mushroom head was drooling precum already. George's cock was thick and nestled in his dense pubic bush. He had enough foreskin for two men. In my experience most guys fill up the skin eventually, so I figured there was more cock on the way.
George wasn't into foreplay. He wanted my cock in his ass and wanted to feel it right away. "Ali doesn't suck uncut cock, only circumcised. I'm allergic to most lubricants, except saliva. " George said, as he range a bell. An incredibly muscular, but short Mongolian entered the room. He looked like my vision of Genghis Khan. With a shaved head and body except for a ponytail and a Fu Manchu. He was naked and launched himself at my cock.
He may have looked like Atilla but he was a master cock sucker. Ali was eating out George's ass and George was moaning in appreciation. I was pretty excited before the Mongolian started to suck. Once he started, I was afraid I would shoot off too fast. The Mongolian knew his stuff and he let up whenever I got close. George cried out, something in Russian, I assume it was, "I'm ready. The Mongolian got up and I went to George, hoisted his legs on my shoulder and placed my cock at his hole. Ali and the Mongolian both spit on my cock and I shoved it into George's twitching ass.
The room was hot as hell and we were all sweating like pigs. My sweat ran down my body and joined the spit lube as I pushed. It's nice to run into a real, experienced bottom once and a while. George offered no resistance. His only reaction at first was a sigh of total satisfaction once my entire cock was lodged in his ass.
I rested and let him get use to my cock then began pumping. I would pull almost all of the way out, then slide in slowly. Each time I did this, George would get a little but more excited and demonstrative. I felt for his cock; it was rock hard, but still enshrouded in his copious foreskin. It was thick and massive. Ali and the Mongolian watched with increasing excitement.
The Mongolian bent over the bed to get closer to George's ass, so he could see better, then gasped as Ali rammed him. I was shocked, but the Mongolian didn't seem to mind. It took me a second or two to realize the oriental expected to be fucked and was ready.
Some old and experienced bottoms have mush in their asses. George's love tunnel was firm and tightly gripped my cock.
"Slow up and let me fuck him,"Ali said. "He likes a long session, and I can keep him up without popping. You can fuck Yu." I pulled out and let Ali take my place in George's ass. I wasn't sure if I would fit in Yu's ass. He was small.
Ali must have been a mind reader."Don't worry about Yu. He can take it! There's a lot more to him than meets the eye." Ali said. George calmed down as Ali pumped him slowly. Yu's ass looked tiny. I stuck my finger into his as and realized he was fully lubricated, so I pushed my cock into the minuscule opening.
Yu growled as my cock slid into his chute. I had heard the growl before and knew all was well. Lubricant squirted out beside my cock as I forced it in. You know an ass is tight if there is not room for a cock and lube in the hole. Usually with a small guy I stop halfway in and see how he reacts. Five inches is enough for some men.
Yu kept on growling, so I kept on pushing, stopping only when my pubic hair was pressed against his buns. I waited to let him get use to it. His ass began to contract and then undulate. Somehow Yu could control his ass muscles. His rectum began to massage my cock. I began to pull out and then ram him hard. Yu and I were on exactly the same wavelength.
The four of us fucked for a good two hours, trading partners from time to time. I was entering George's ass for the fourth or fifth time, when George said, "I've got to shoot, or I'll explode!" I knew what he was feeling. The sex was so good that my cock was so sensitive it almost hurt. I wanted release too.
"What can I do to make it happen?" I asked.
He whispered, "Ram me." That's what I did and he popped. The cum covered his hairy body with glistening drops of man seed sitting on top of the black coat. Ali did the same to Yu, but he pulled out and sprayed George, adding his cum to the mix. Ali and Yu joined George on the bed. Yu was rock hard, with his cock sticking straight into the air. It was coated in precum.
I straddled the Mongolian and sat on it. It was six inches and the thing my it hit the bull's eye in my ass. When I spurted, Yu twitched and jerked. I knew he was rear loading me as I sprayed Ali and George with my jiz. We all fell asleep.
When I woke the next morning, Yu was gone and Ali was slow fucking George. Ali shot off in George's ass. I replaced him. I had one hell of a piss hard and Ali's cum was a great lubricant, so I rammed George hard, fast and effectively. George popped in not time at all and fell asleep again. I went to the bathroom and took a piss while Ali showered.
It was a long shower. I put two and two together and joined him. Ali looked relieved.
"You don't like uncut cock?" I asked.
"Well, I'm Muslim, it's unclean." he said. "I'm not a very good Muslim, but I just feel uncomfortable." I was busy washing my cock, inside and out; he was fascinated.
"But it's okay to fuck an uncut guy?"
Ali laughed. "I guess it is. Maybe that doesn't make much sense. You top and bottom?"
"Obviously. I'm 90% top, but it's nice to get your prostate tickled once in a while. You?"
He looked sheepish. "Don't tell anyone, but once in a while. My Uncles did it to me years ago."
"Taken an uncut cock?"
He looked at me long and hard. "Not yet." he said. I wasn't going to press the subject, but George joined us and the conversation was over. George drove me back to St. Petersburg that morning. I said, I had to wire for more cash, but we would get back together again. He said, he was out of town for two days, but would call when he got back. There were several messages waiting for me at the hotel. One was from Anatol and another from a man named Josef Schmidt.