Catfish Takes a Vacation
Part 7
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.
Raoul and Juan put on a good show and were friendly to boot. They were relieved to be able to be lovers and not hide their affection. To everyone else it was a servant-master relationship. Raoul had a thick and massive cock, but Juan had no problem taking it.
Juan was gay, but I guessed Raoul was a straight man who had no objection to man sex. We talked as Raoul slow fucked Juan. Of course my cock got hard. When I got out of the hot water to cool off, the two men saw my cock.
I never know how my cock will affect people. Almost everyone is interested, but only a few want to experience it. Juan looked at it as if it was on display in a scientific museum. Raoul looked as if he had discovered the Holy Grail. I was surprised.
Raoul was a very masculine man, a hairy, bear like man. Nothing is more masculine than a cock and the bigger the better. He was really interested. I went off to bed shortly after, but half expected to find Raoul in my bedroom. That didn't happen.
The next day Juan and I went of to a study center associated with a museum to hone my skills at identifying Mayan and Aztec artifacts. At one time in my life I had been proud of my lack of academic skills. I seemed to have overcome that and was on my way to becoming an Art History major. Identifying the different styles and techniques and telling the real from the forgeries turned into a game I picked up quickly.
One of Juan's Professors, Dr. Luis Pacolimini, was explaining details of Mayan pottery and I was eating it up. He told me he thought I had a background in archaeology. We hit it off well. In the afternoon, Esteban joined us and explained the plan. I was to go to the hotel in Mexico City which served as an informal meeting place and market for smugglers.
"It's in a bad neighborhood, but they get lots of foreigners there. You won't stand out." Esteban said.
"I've never seen a more likely Gringo smuggler than Catfish here," Luis exclaimed. "You were born for that role, my boy." My redneck beard trim really hit the spot. We had two more days of training, then I was launched into the world of central American smuggling.
The Hotel Adelon looked as if Humphry Bogart had just walked out. You sure didn't need to be warned not to drink the water. The place was none to clean, and not at all picky about the clientele. I had the odd feeling of being in a 1940s era black and white movie, except everything was brilliantly colored. I realized in St. Petersburg heavy clothing and parkas covered a multitude of sins. All the sins were on view in the lobby of the Adelon.
I checked in and told the desk clerk I was looking for a driver and a guide so I could do some exploring in the country. He looked at me and guessed what kind of exploring I was interested in. I got in my room, unpacked and there was a knocking at my door. It was a mustached Mexican who asked if I was looking for a guide. I said yes.
"I'm Pedro, this is my bother Sean," the man said, introducing a man who was in the shadows. Pedro was young and small. Sean was older and bigger. Pedro looked more Indian than European; Sean more European than Indian. It didn't seem possible they were brothers. I told them what I wanted to do. Sean obviously didn't speak English. Pedro was his translator.
They took me out to see their car. I was an old Ford Bronco in good shape. I complimented Pedro on the car's appearance. He translated my comment to Sean who was pleased I noticed; it was obviously his baby. I agreed to their fees and they said they would get me at10:00 the next morning. Back at the hotel a man accosted me in the lobby and asked if I was interested in a souvenir.
I said sure, but I wanted only good stuff. He told me to follow him. We left the hotel and wandered down a side street. It was beginning to seem like St. Peterburg. We went into a shop. It was filled with forgeries of Mayan ceramics. I told the man I wanted real stuff. The owner of the shop over heard me. He yelled at the man, who ran out of the shop.
"You want some nice things? Genuine Aztec?" he asked.
"That's what I'm after." I replied.
"The real stuff can be real expensive Mister."
"I said I was after the real thing. I didn't say I was after a bargain." I said. The man motioned to me and we went into the back room. Of course, I was ready to be jumped at any moment, but the man was legit. Or at least as legit as a dealer in looted goods could be. The back room was filled with genuine Indian artifacts of average or below average quality. I looked it over, picking out one of the better objects.
The man noticed I had picked one of the better things. "Maybe you might like to see a few . . . special things I have in my office?" He took me through another door. In the small office he had several museum-quality pots. In a corner I saw something unexpected.
"This is more like it," I said. I went over to the pot nearest the object in the corner. The pot was great. Beside it was a small, headless statue of a Sumerian king. I asked for the price for the pot. He wanted five thousand. After a little haggling, I got it for $4,200.00. It was a good deal.
I glanced casually at the sculpture in the corner. "What in hell is that?" I asked, "It sure as hell isn't Aztec."
"I got a shipment by error from a supplier. I don't know what it is." he said. I went over to it, picked it up and took a closer look. There was no question it was a statue from the National Museum in Bagdad.
"I think you're in big trouble. This is hot." I said.
"The police here aren't too worried about that sort of thing." he said casually.
"No, this is big time. Half the world is looking for this." I said as I explained what it was. He looked shocked. "I will bet the men who sent this to you are pissed as hell. Did you tell them you have it?"
"No, I figured I could sell it and get something in place of the shipment I didn't get." he said.
"That thing is worth millions, I don't think they're going to real understanding about you playing games." With that comment I took my pot and left, returning to the hotel. I had a cell phone and called Esteban and told him about the shop. He said he'd put the place under surveillance. I also called Julio in London and told him.
"That's what was going on!" Julio said. "There has been a disturbance in the force. Odd behavior. Someone mailed it to the wrong person. Heads will roll."
"By the way, it was sitting on a box which had a German postmark, I couldn't see the name, but there was a bear on it."
"Berlin." Julio said. "The bear is the symbol of Berlin. I will call the authorities there." he hung up.
I had a night to kill. I went out for dinner and wandered around the neighborhood. It was a noisy and active neighborhood. Because of its questionable reputation there were a number of men wandering around trying to see what they could turn up. A friend of mind had told me he liked Mexico because you could buy anything there. That certainly was the way it looked to me.
I went into a bar for a beer and sat next to an American and we started a conversation. Randy was a security man on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico for four months. He had just quit the job. He and a bunch of his fellow workers had come to the city for a goodbye party. They had vanished in a whorehouse somewhere and he was alone. He was a slight, bearded guy and was lonely and shy. He got drunk, so I took him home with me rather than leaving him on the street for the night.
I left him sleeping on the floor in my room and got out a book. After a while, I went to take a shower before getting into bed. While I was showering, Randy woke up, came in the bath and asked where he was. I explained that. He said he was grateful I took him in.
"That shower looks really good," he said.
I told him, "You can shower when I was done or join me." Much to my surprise he stripped and got into the shower with me. Randy was an almost pretty man. He was masculine, but so handsome he was almost feminine. He also was still drunk and when he saw my cock, he found true love.
"Damn," he said, "can anyone take that thing?"
"Some guys can, not all, but some," I answered. "Are you talking about sucking it or getting fucked by it?" He looked at me puzzled.
"Shit, it didn't even occur to me you could take it up the ass." he said. He looked at me again. "You mean guys do take it?"
"They sure do, some like it a lot too."
"I don't believe how drunk I am, I'm sorry," he said. "I am not gay. I don't know why I'm saying these things. I'm sorry."
"I know you're drunk, but let me tell you, you're not as straight as you think you are. Just relax and go with the flow." I said. We switched places in the shower. My cock touched him as we moved.
He was still staring at my cock as if he were a deer transfixed by headlights. "Can I touch it?" he asked. "Shit, I'm drunk."
"Go right ahead." I said. "You can suck it if you want."
"I don't think I can do that."
"Let me tell you Randy, I wouldn't bet the farm on that if I were you." I replied. Randy did touch it, cupping the balls first, then stroking the cock until the head emerged from the foreskin. After that he got down and sucked it.
Randy later told me this was first time he had ever sucked a cock. I believed him. The combination of curiosity and sexual desire drove him to try it. Once he tasted cock for the first time, he was hooked. We got out of the shower, dried off and went to bed. I sucked him for a while then we 69ed. Randy loved that.
During the course of my life, I've sucked one or two cocks. I am a good judge of when a guy is close to popping. I got him to the edge a good five or six times, but stopped just short. Each time he came close, he got more interested in my cock. By the last time I was finished with him, Randy didn't think he was straight anymore. He was going crazy there was so much cum building up in his balls.
I made him lie back on the bed with his legs open wide. I sucked his cock while I fingered his ass. I didn't penetrate his hole. I just toyed with it. His cock exploded. I ate every drop. When he was finished, he was asleep. I fell asleep too.
He woke up at 6:30 in the morning, apologizing for the night before.
"I'm sorry. I've never done anything like that." he said. "I don't know what got into me." He rambled on for a while.
"Randy, are you apologizing to me or to yourself? If it's to me, don't bother. I had a good time."
"I shot off in your mouth" he murmured.
"To tell you the truth, Randy, I guessed that might happen." I said as I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. When I returned, he was staring at my cock again.
"Randy, you're a nice guy. Being a cock sucker doesn't mean you're not a nice guy." I said.
"Shit." he said as he swallowed my cock a second time. Sleep had improved his sucking technique. I hadn't shot off the night before, so I was ripe.
"If you don't want a mouth full of my cock cream, you'd better lay off." I told him. He looked up at me, still sucking. He was a bit afraid, but I knew he was going to take my load. It would have been nice if I had shot off a dainty squirt of cum, but I let loose a gully washer of man seed. He took it all.
He sat there, still. I kissed him. My cum was still in his mouth; he hadn't swallowed. I got turned on as I swished my tongue in my man seed. I wasn't sure how Randy reacted until I felt the warm splatter of his cum on my chest. Randy had a hands free orgasm.
We showered and I asked if he wanted to come along on my trip to the countryside. He thought a minute and agreed. I asked if we needed to pick up some things from his hotel. Randy said, no, he had everything he owned in the backpack he had with him.
"I've heard of traveling light, but that seems a bit extreme," I commented. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-seven," he said. "I was in the Marines for six years, and I had what you could call a bad marriage. We were married for three years and she took everything I had. And I mean everything."
"You saved a jockstrap and a toothbrush?"
Randy laughed. "It was sort of like that, except I had to buy a new toothbrush."
We went to breakfast and met up with Pedro and Sean. While we ate, I found out Randy spoke Spanish. I asked him not to let on to our guides he understood the lingo. It might give us a heads up if trouble was brewing. For some reason I trusted Randy from the start and was only moderately distrustful of our guides. I was right on both counts. Pedro and Sean were after a buck and were none too squeamish as to how they earned it. They weren't crooks, however, and they wouldn't resort to violence. As long as I paid them, we were fine.
We went south east from Mexico City toward the archaeological sites in Yucatan. I did some real site seeing and my interest in Aztec and Mayan culture grew.
Sean turned out to be a real find. He loved his Bronco and was very knowledgeable about places not to go. He knew the routes that were good, and those which had problems. This wasn't a problem on the main roads, but in out of the way places bandits and/or guerillas were potentially a problem.
I had told them I wanted Indian artifacts. Pedro knew most of the small time operators. I found a few things of interest. The two days later we stayed in a Holiday Inn. It lacked the character of the Hotel Adelon, but was a lot more sanitary. I was able to hook up my laptop and get e-mail.
Esteban wrote the souvenir shop in Mexico City had burned along with its owner. The Sumerian statue wasn't in the ruins. The word on the street was a gringo had left the shop a day earlier, carrying a wrapped package. Esteban told me to be careful. I had come across something big there.
The room was modern and had modern 100% American plumbing. It was good to get to a good shower after two days in the heat. Randy and I had been getting along well. He was a nice guy who had made some bad choices and had bad luck to boot. There was no sex since we had been with Pedro and Sean the whole time. During that time he seemed to have come to terms with his sexual preferences.
Randy had showered before me, so when I got out and dried off he was on the bed naked. I stood naked in front of him. "Let's go to dinner." I said, figuring some delay would be good for him. We got dressed and went to a restaurant. Dinner was good and we wandered around the city's main square afterwards. We got back to the room and I guessed Randy would be ready.
I showered again and Randy was waiting for me. I wasn't playing hard to get, but I was leaving it up to him. He was uneasy.
"I was hoping to hop into bed with you. Are you interested?" I finally asked.
"Shit, yes." he cried.
"Do you think you can suck cock sober?"
"I don't think that's going to be a problem," he said, as he tried to swallow my cock in one gulp. Randy and I had a good time. After a while he came up for air. "I still don't feel like I'm gay." he said.
"Let's just say you're a straight guy who likes to suck cock," I said. "A lot." Randy looked at me and burst out laughing. The night got even better.