Date: Sat, 16 Feb 2019 19:55:39 +0000 (UTC) From: Bob Archman Subject: Catfish Sort of Retires 4 Catfish Sort of Retires 4 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 or If you enjoy these stories. Please consider giving a donation to Nifty The newly dug pit on Carlton Hill was as far from being Bluebeard's treasure trove as imaginable. It was slave housing from the 18th Century. Alex and her father remembered stories about the old Quarters on the plantation. They had no idea where it was. That was a disappointment for the Treasure Hunters. It was exciting for archaeologists. The slave housing had been abandoned following the Civil War, and the site had been untouched. The mansion dated from 1790, but there had been earlier houses since the later 17th Century. It was possible the quarters had been in use for centuries before it was abandoned. This was a rare find. The word got out and there happened to be an archaeological dig planned for the summer which was cancelled. When our site was discovered they transferred their efforts to Carlton Hill. Alex and her father were interested in discovering more about former residents of the property. The dig leader was Dr. Dulaney Dumont, an overweight, middle aged, slightly officious man. Dulaney was intelligent, but when they passed out personality, they skipped Dulaney. He somehow managed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. His crew were five young women. They stayed with Alex at the house. Dulaney stayed with me. He tended to say things that could be taken the wrong way. Luckily for Dulaney, I have known guys like him, and I had no problem. I told him that I had some friends who had alternate lifestyles. He said that wasn't a problem and gave me a tedious lecture on homosexuality through the ages. He stayed in an upstairs bedroom most of the time and wrote daily reports on the excavation at night, so I didn't see him much. He had found a broken plate dating from 1680-90 which confirmed the early date of the site. This greatly excited him. He left the house at dawn and returned after seven, so I rarely saw him. Max tended to check in every few days. Long stakeouts are tedious, but Max was fine with that when he was working. Once he came by with Charley the Crab man. Charley was getting older and was attracting fewer young playmates. Reconnecting with Max was more sexually satisfying than he anticipated. Max brought back fond memories of his youth. They had been inexperienced then, but Charley was anything but inexperienced now and Max was unexpectedly receptive. Charley liked sitting on my cock and doing a little dance. My cock hit his prostate in a good way. When Charley got off my cock, Max slipped his tool into Charley's cum filled ass. That was a total success for both men. Max said it was like fucking melted butter. His cock went way deep into the sperm lubricated ass. Max shot off as did Charley. I was close enough to take his load. Charley had to leave, and I asked Max how he felt. He said it was good, but he was surprised at his comfort level. "I feel as if I have gone from zero to ninety overnight," he said. "I feel like a new man. My wife and I were prefect for each other. I feel as if being with another woman would be cheating on her. I don't feel that way with a man." While I have never been a shrinking violet sexually, my retirement was more relaxing and restful. I would think about the case three of four times a day, not 24/7. The archaeological excavation would drive the treasure hunters away if their digging had been just a shot in the dark. They might move over to Good Luck Farm and look for treasure there. If they had some sort of documentary evidence, they would return to Carlton Hill. Good Luck Farm was much bigger than Carlton Hill and Ralph was watching the entrance, Thad Jr. didn't seem to help, but he had friends from his football days that were unemployed or semi-employed. I had serious doubts about Thad's judgement, but Ralph ran the show. He hired some of Thad's pals to do some part time farm work and hang around through the night. I didn't know if they would be useful, but activity generally scares away troublemakers. While I know that hunting down the leaders of the group is good in theory, letting the lesser figures run loose is a gamble. Our luck ran out the next day. In the late afternoon, there was only one woman, Julia, working at the site. A man emerged from the woods and attacked her. She screamed. Dulaney was deep in a nearby trench. He had a shovel, so he jumped up and counter-attacked. According to Julia, Dulaney was screaming like a banshee and running at top speed. He is a heavy-set man so the potential impact of Dulaney and his shovel were threatening. Dulaney hit the assailant with the shovel in the ribs, and then knocked him on the ground, spraining his ankle. Julia had been cut; the perp had a knife. She was screaming so Dulaney went to help her. Remarkably, the assailant managed to escape on his bad leg. The pain was better than encountering Dulaney again. By then everyone on the farm was coming to Julia's aid or chasing the perp. He was heading toward the Bay, and then vanished. There were signs of a raft left in the mud. Max had the entire police force on the way within minutes. The raft disappeared and the next morning boats were searching the Bay. We assumed the raft met with a larger craft, thus explaining the disappearance. Late that day searcher found Red Dog's body in the bushes two miles away. The autopsy found that had he been taken to a hospital he would have survived. He died of internal bleeding from broken ribs and shock. His accomplices didn't think enough of him to take him for treatment That did not surprise Max. Red Dog wasn't the sort of man who would hold up under interrogation. He wasn't bright enough to lie convincingly. For his associates he was better dead than alive. Dulaney's stock rose several hundred points that day. He seemed like the least likely man to confront an attacker and beat the shit out of him. As far as anyone could tell, he was fearless when attacked and more than aggressive. There is a big difference between being an odd man and fearless leader. Julia wasn't seriously hurt. There was lots of blood, but the wounds weren't deep. She went home with her parents. She wanted to stay, but Dulaney told her she had been though a terrible experience and it wasn't heathy to ignore it. Her parents were sensible, wealthy and quite normal. She was an only child and I think her mother was more shocked than she was. One of Thad's friends, Roger, joined the group as a digger. Roger was brighter than he looked and was the human equivalent of Caterpillar tractor. He was also gay, which made him the perfect man protecting young women. The Sherriff decided it was time to stop pussy footing around the local hired guns. In a small rural county, everyone knew everything that was going on. The Sherriff ran a tight ship and created a diversionary plan to deceive the Tottens and their pals. The local newspapers suggested that the Sherriff was dissatisfied with the FBI and was no longer cooperating with them. That story was planned and coordinated with the FBI. A night after the attack, I was at the pool with Ralph. We were naked as usual. Dulaney came over and asked if he could join us. "I won't butt in if you have plans," he added. Ralph laughed, "We don't exactly have plans, but we could include you in them if you are into it." Dulaney stripped and jumped in. He wasn't handsome or toned, but he was in pretty good shape, beefy and hairy. He was never going to be a male model. His cock was soft, good sized, uncut and meaty. We talked about the attack. He had been on expeditions in central America, and he knew that an aggressive man as the head of the team was important in a traditional society. "You need to make it clear that you are not to be trifled with," he explained. "The combination being firm and paying well works well. Years earlier my little brother was bullied. I solved that problem." "You are in better shape than I thought," Ralph said. "I'm hands on and I love to dig," he said. "That's good for a small project this this one. The budget can't afford a purely supervisory leader. I can direct and dig. That's why I get lot of projects. I don't mess around with the staff either. I'm sort of a ditch digging, academically qualified monk." "I was a field guy too, but I am smarter than I look," I said. "Luckily with my looks that sets a low bar. I have no monk tendencies at all." Dulaney looked at my cock and smiled. "I'm an involuntary monk." "You might say that Catfish and I are the least monk like guys you would ever meet," Ralph said. A few minutes latter we discovered that Dulaney was inexperienced but more than willing. He told us he had seen a lot of things on Greek vases and Indian temples that he would like to try. Dulaney was socially inept; he was not a smooth operator. That combined with his fear of being accused of inappropriate behavior made him into what he was. Ralph and I were mature, and not associated with any institution. He was not dealing with virgins new to the world of man sex. He sucked me as Ralph sucked him. I have noticed in the past that the sight of an erect cock tends to inspire me. His cock was just short of being huge. It was thicker than average. When I sucked him, I discovered it was ultra-sensitive, and his precum was more of the mountain stream in flood, than a refined and modest drool. After the preliminary get to know you period, we went to my bedroom. Ralph told him he was uneasy fucking him, since he was new to the scene. Dulaney told us he had never had a cock in his ass, but he had some experience. "You are into dildos?" Ralph asked. "I kind of made use of vegetables, carrots and the like," Dulaney sheepishly admitted. "Did you work up to cucumbers?" Ralph asked. Dulaney nodded. "I can tell you from personal experience that cocks are better than any vegetable. Have you taken cum before?" "Not yet," Dulaney replied. I took that as a no, but I'm willing answer. Dulaney sucked my cock as if he was a man dying in a desert who found a spring in a shaded oasis. He seemed to love my cock head and tried to get his tongue into my slit. I knew he would be eating my sperm, if I didn't get to shoot off in his behind. He needed a breather, so we broke apart. "Now Dulaney, we can keep on doing the same thing or we can stop if it's too much for you. What's you pleasure?" Ralph, asked. "Whatever you do, please don't stop!" he replied. "We can also do a lot more," Ralph added. "I am what thye used to call a randy guy. Wild sex can be messy and intimate. I don't feel I know a guy until I been up his ass and we traded cum. It takes two to Tango. I love to be in a guy's ass with him moaning and begging me to get in deeper." "Does that happen often?" Dulaney asked. "It sure does. Some guys tell me I don't fuck them, I just massage them in hard to reach places," Ralph said. "It sometimes takes a few sessions before they open up enough to fully enjoy it, but they all agree it's worth the effort." Dulaney had returned to sucking me as Ralph was talking. I lost it and flooded Dulaney's mouth without warning. I don't usually do that. Luckily, Dulaney loved it. He swallowed twice and kept on sucking. Ralph is a good sport. He sucked Dulaney and a minute or two later was using his cock as a cum straw. Dulaney had been saving up, but Ralph regarded that as a sperm feast. He later told me that it reminded him of his late partner's orgasms. Ralph went back to Good Luck Farm. Dulaney and I returned to the house. Templeton had just arrived for the weekend with a friend, a young guy named Clay. Clay was a recovering, born-again from rural South-West Virginia. He was big and muscular. He worked for an investment firm. He had been raised to believe that Richmond was a modern Sodom and Gomorra. He had business dealings with Templeton. Even arch-conservative, born-again types find men they find so attractive they can't resist. It wasn't love, it was pure, unadulterated sexual attraction to Templeton. I got the whole story in the course of the weekend. Clay's parents thought the human body was evil and sinful. Clay's body got more sinful as he hit puberty. Clay was a hairball, and that evoked comparisons to Darwin and his evil theories of evolution. Clay's body hair was of the shaggy dog sort and he had been terrified that his friends would find out. He had run into Templeton at a health club and seen him in the shower. It was lust at first sight. Templeton and I share the same interest in sex, but he is more restrained until he gets to know a man. Dulaney and I were wearing swimming trunks when we ran into Clay and Templeton. To Clay it was a hairball buffet. He felt comfortable. The next morning at breakfast we were talking about the treasure hunters and I mentioned Nathan West. Clay said he had recently opened an account for him. He opened four accounts, each below the normal reporting limit. He opened them in the name of the Barb Black Foundation. That foundation had the normal incorporation documents. Clay said there were thousands of little family foundations. These were mostly tax doges, but it was more expensive to prosecute them than to leave them alone. It was Saturday so Clay, Templeton and Dulaney went to the pool. I said I had to make a few calls and would join them later. I called Edward from my bedroom. When I told him about the Barb Black Foundation, it was as if he had won a high-powered convertible on a quiz show. He needed new clues and I had given him a good one. I also called the Sherriff. Technically, there wasn't a competition between the FBI and the local police, but discovering a new lead was good for him. I always made sure the police received credit for all of Catfish & Companies work. The fewer people who know we exist the better. I went to the pool. It was late July and was going feel like a steam bath over all coastal Virginia. It was already hot. Some might say that swimming nude was not cooler than swimming while wearing trunks, but Templeton, Clay and Dulaney were nude and happy. I assumed Clay had some sexual experience with Templeton. I had introduced the subject to Dulaney. I stripped and got in the water. Clay watched and was clearly interested. I think my cock was more than he expected. I looked him in the eye and smiled. He looked at me with a sheepish grin, that turned into a grin. He swam over to me. "You and Templeton are old friends?" he asked. "Am I trespassing?" "We are old friends, intimate friends. I believe you can't have too many friends. We've never been exclusive. We both enjoy other friends," I replied. "Am I right in thinking this is all new to you?" He nodded. "Try to relax. Let Templeton be your guide. He can take you places you've never been before," I said. "Other men have been where you are, and they have gone where you may go. Don't worry, no one ever wants to go back." Dulaney left to get dressed and go back to the dig. The three of us left in the pool fondled and sucked a little. I sucked Clay until he was close and turned him over to Templeton. He took the load. I think he came close to enjoying eating Clay's cum as Clay enjoyed shooting it. They went off on a boat excursion up the Bay. I went over to Carlton Hill to look at the excavation. The atmosphere at the dig was cheerful. Dulaney's relationship with his staff was much better. Roger's energetic digging had picked up the pace. Roger was a nice guy and I almost felt as if he was the protective older brother to the women excavators. Alex was there with her daughters who were cleaning artifacts. Some of these were broken or damaged items from the big house. Thye found numerous bones of small animals. Liz, one of the excavators, specialized in bone identification. Cows, hogs and sheep fed the big house. The slaves had possum, squirrels and other small animals to supplement their diets. Fish bones were everywhere. Liz thought most were catfish. There were a few coins. These were in small denominations. Some were dropped in the road, but one cluster of twelve coins may have been a life's savings of a slave. Coins were rare in general, and even rarer in the slave quarters. That evening Ralph told me they found newly dug pit on Good Luck Farm. That find agitated Thad Jr. who seemed to realize the danger. He started actively patrolling the edge of the farm. His mother began target practicing with her other sons. She felt rifles going off would discourage prowlers. She also felt that five or ten-minute sessions at random times would be most effective. On Monday, Edward called. He had traced the Barb Black Foundation. West was the director, but there was a list of the Board of Directors. These were real names and he was chasing them down. Several had arrest records, others were wealthy. That made sense to me. The wealthy members wanted treasure without getting dirty hands. Edward wanted to do more research before I gave the names to the police. I wasn't sure who the ringleader was. I did call the Sherriff and give him an update. He was cagy about his plans. Dulaney took his crew to Washington, to give his sponsors an update on his work. Roger was left on the site cleaning the trenches. Around four he came by my house. I was at the pool and was wearing a Speedo. He looked at the bulge and then asked of he could take a dip. Ralph had told him I was usually okay with that. I told him that was fine but there was a shower to the side of the pool to rinse off. Roger was covered is sweat and dirt. "I can help you with the hard to reach places," I added. Roger looked puzzled, then he smiled. "Ralph said you were a nice guy and helpful too," he said. He took off his clothes at the shower. "Were you on the football team with Thad?" I asked. "Yep, but we weren't too close. Thad was a star and I was a tackle." "I can see Thad as a self-appointed star," I said. Roger burst out laughing. "You know him well," he said. "He worked for me after he flunked out of school," I said. "He told me he was looking for a better school." Roger said, "I wasn't good enough to get a scholarship, and I can't afford full tuition. I miss the football team." "I was briefly on the wrestling team in the ultra-feather weight class. Wrestling was okay," I said. "I excelled in the showers." Roger laughed again. I liked the show and tell in the showers after the game," he said. "Did you connect with any of the players there?" I asked. "Just a pat on the ass, and an accidental glancing touch," he replied. "I sort of wanted more but I was too shy and afraid. "Are you still shy and afraid?" "I'm still shy, but Ralph cured me of the afraid part. We played some and I told him I still thought of a Black guy on a team we were playing who was hung like a horse. Ralph told me you were good for a White guy," Roger said. "Are you disappointed?" I asked. "Not at all!" he replied. Roger was getting hard, so I stroked his tool. He shot off immediately. I was able to drop down and take part of his load. I continued to suck and damn if he didn't shoot off a second time. I looked up. "Is there a third orgasm in line" I asked. "I wish! No ones done that to me before," he said as he helped me get up and back on my crutches. "Ralph didn't take it?" I asked. "Somehow I had a feeling he would like yours. Are you okay?" "I'm a little dizzy, but it was great. Did you like it?" he asked. "Let's just say that draining the balls of a young stud is not a problem," I replied. "You do know that sex should be pleasurable for both men? Sucking a guy dry as he visits the moon is exciting for me. Sometime a cock is a lust thermometer. As it twitched and squirted, I was in the front row center of your orgasms and was able to share it." "Do I need to do the same for you?" Roger asked. "If we connect again, don't worry. You will want it. What will happen will happen," I said. There was a strange thumping noise in the air. I looked up and there were two state police copters above us. They were heading in the direction of the Totten's trailer park. The raids were underway and included the trailer park and Dulaney's Palace.