Date: Tue, 30 Oct 2018 21:08:57 -0400
From: bldhrymn@yahoo.com
Subject: Catfish Meets Henry 2

Catfish Meets Henry 2

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@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com

If you enjoy these stories. Please consider giving a donation to Nifty

Hillyard pumped his cock into me for an hour. He spent a good fifteen
minutes shooting every drop of sperm into my ass. Maybe fifteen minutes is
an exaggeration, but it was good. We dressed, and he took me to Logan's
house. Logan was already asleep, so I had a good night's rest.

I spent the next morning doing computer searches on the men I had met. At
11:00 I had a call from a medical examiner named Chet.  He wanted to see me
and asked if he could come over. I said yes, and he was at the door a
minute later. He must have called from his car parked in front of the
house. Chet was a chunky guy who worked for the medical examiner
office. The head examiner was occupied by the latest serial killer's
victim, so Chet had done Bull.

Chet didn't think it was an accidental death either. It was a single,
massive blow to the back of the head. There was no evidence of defensive
wounds, and Bull's face was placid. There was no evidence he was aware of
what was going to happen. The weapon was something like a baseball bat.

The clothes had been searched by a team which was called away when the
serial killer's victim was brought in. Chet had made a second search of
Bull's clothes. Bull's cell phone was missing, but Chet found a SD card
with 128 gigs of memory. It was password protected and Chet had not been
able to read it.

I called my office and talked to my geek squad. They had a connection in
Charlotte who could help. A half hour later an odd-looking man appeared at
our door, stuck the SD card into his laptop and transferred the contents to
my office.  They would break the password.

Chet had more information.  The killer was about 5-11, left handed, and had
red hair. That would be useful when we found a suspect. Chet was one of
Hillyard's friends. "Hillyard told me you are a good guy, you know I could
be fired if someone finds out?" I told him he didn't need to worry about
that.

"Hillyard and I like some of the same things. I have to get back to work,
but maybe we could get together some time?" I told him that was a
possibility. He left.

I looked up the relators and developers for Avalon Gardens. That was
unsuccessful, but Logan had copy of the local city magazine, and I hit pay
dirt. It had a full page add with every contact for the project listed. I
then called Bull's office and asked if someone could give me a tour of the
development. Toby came by and hour later in his SUV. If you like
45-year-old, beaded, lumberjack types, Toby was the man for you. He would
have been a hippie year ago. I had seen his work and he was a superb
craftsman.

Avalon Gardens had a grand entrance way. Most of the houses were McMansions
with Trump-like gold accessories. Bull's house was a low structure made of
local stone and lumber. It was a sophisticated log cabin. The site was
wooded and the only cleared area was to the south where there was a pool
and a view across a pond to castle like house. It was on a triple lot, so
the house was quite secluded and could be seen only from Bull's project. I
asked Toby who lived there. He said it was Frankie and Bambi Smithson. He
had met them once and was not impressed.

When we got back to the office, Lucy had gone home, and Henry was out of
town with a new client. I checked my cell phone and had a message to call
Hillyard. He had some information for me and wanted to meet at his house
the next day, Saturday. I called and said that would be fine.

Returning to Logan's house, he had some friends for dinner and invited me
to join them.  Logan liked pretty, younger men. Most of them were in their
mid-twenties and they looked at me as if I had arrived from outer space. I
went to my room after dinner to check my mail.

My office computer guys had cracked the password. The files were all either
photographs or videos. They were checking these. I sent a note that the
house across the pond might be important. It was nice to have a quiet
night. There was some noise coming from the shower. I assumed they were
having a good time.

At 10:30 someone knocked at the door. It was one of Logan's guest who
introduced himself as Gus. He was a big, football type, blond man. "I'm
sorry to bother you. Logan said we might get along. I don't fit in well
with the other guys," he said. "I'm too butch and not anorexic."

"If you're too butch, they must think I am a caveman," I replied with a
smile. "Did Logan tell you about me?

"A little. I know how you lost your leg," he said. "He said I would like
one part of you. I'm kind of curious about it."

"I don't mind some show and tell, as long as there is no tell and a lot of
feeling," I said. "If something gets going, I like to finish it. Part of
you might be stretched." I was wearing a towel. I am not a pajama man. Gus
was wearing one of Logan's guest robes. It fell open as my towel fell
off. It was lust at first sight. Gus dropped to his knees and began
sucking. He was almost frantic in his efforts to deep throat my cock.  He
many have been thirty, but he was already bald and had a pelt of curly
blond hair.

He calmed down some and I asked if anyone had been up his ass.

"Logan did me. I guess you could say Emmett did me two, but it hardly
counted," Gus replied.

"Is your ass well lubricated?"

"Logan came in me. Emmett may have spurted some too," Gus said.

"Well why don't you say your prayers and open up for me," I said. I was
planning to take my time, but I went deep on the first thrust. He moaned.

"Take a breath and relax. It's all in," I said. He was still for a few
minutes, but then began to grip my cock with his sphincter. I jiggled my
cock and he moaned again. "I hate to tell you Gus, but my cock just found a
home away from home."

"Damn, it's big. I didn't know I could take it," Gus murmured. "I didn't
know I could feel so much. I've been fucked before, but this is so
different." I began to make small, thrusting movements. Logan and Emmett
had done a good job lubricating his fuck tunnel. He was tight, but my cock
had some freedom of movement. My thrusts became stronger as his ass
adjusted to my cock.  He moaned.

"Am I using you for my own pleasure, or filling your needs?" I asked.

"I can't tell," he replied.

I began to pull out. I thought we had done enough. I then flipped him over
and sat on his cock. He liked that, especially after I began to bounce on
it. I bounced until I though he was close. We rested.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I thought it was too much when you were in me," Gus admitted. "Now I want
you in me again." I lubricated my cock and entered him again. I slid in
easily. He almost purred as I slid in. I didn't exactly fuck him. He was
content that I was in him. He almost fell asleep, so I made some deep
strokes to wake him up. After a while he told me that he needed a rest. It
was a good night.

When I woke Gus was gone and Emmett was in my bed. I was surprised. Emmett
was a delicate looking young man, maybe an inch or two taller than me. "Gus
had to get to his job. He told me to tell you that last night was great. He
also told me you were hung, and I wanted to see it," Emmett said.

"You are the refined, shy type," I said.

"I am the curious type," he replied. "You are everything that doesn't
attracted me in a man. I like the slick, 1930's lounge lizard types. I have
no idea why I am so turned on."

"I met some of your sperm in Gus' ass last night," I said. Emmett
giggled. He bent over and began sucking me. Emmett wasn't my type, but he
was an Olympic class cock sucker. He looked up for a second. "Did you shoot
off in Gus?"  he asked.

"Nope, I'm still fully loaded," I replied. He returned to his cock sucking
duties and I soon shot off. Emmett was not as much a cock sucker as a ball
drainer. I felt as if I had lost weight as he savored every drop of
semen. He left, and I checked my computer. My office had examined the SD
card and had results ready for me to look at.

Logan knocked on my door. "Breakfast is ready. If your naked, come as you
are," he said.

Logan and Emmett were there with two other men, a striking Black man named
Tyrone, and a Latino named Ferdinando. "We look a little bit like the
United Nations," Logan said. "Everyone is friendly. My friends are all
talented and borderline sex maniacs." They were all either set designers or
builders. Emmett was painter, Tyrone a designer and Ferdinando a
carpenter-carver.

We had a good breakfast and conversation. They all knew Bull and Henry,
although I think Bull's sexual drive was normal compared to theirs. They
knew that Bull wasn't into street trade. He was too butch for their set. He
was the flannel shirt covered in sawdust sort of man. He went to a serious
gym and may have met men there. "On the sex maniac scale, he was a two or
three out of ten," Tyrone said. "He and Henry were the prefect couple with
random, well-spaced flings," Lamont said.

I called my office after breakfast. Bull had an exceptionally high-powered
camera.  Distant shots were clear. He had taken a series of photos of the
view from the terrace across the pond. This faced south, and Bull was
interested in dramatic clouds formations. You could see men entering and
leaving the castle-like house.  The parking was at an angle; the cars and
their license plates were visible.

The license plates were not crystal clear in blowups, but we had a program
that examined pixels and identified numbers based on probability. That took
some time, but they would have results by the afternoon. Henry called and
wanted to get together with me and his lawyer.

He picked me up and we went to the lawyer's offices. This was an old, top
of the line firm who specialized in trusts and estates. Thaxton Drew IV,
was about my age, and looked like the perfect distinguished lawyer. He said
there was no question about the will's authenticity. It was proper in every
way. Henry would be a wealthy man.

He had contacted Bull's family lawyer who agreed the will was proper. He
had found out that the 1,000

shares of stock had never played a role, since Bull never used them. His
family had no disputes and voted together. There was a potential future
problem related to Bull's sister, Ellen. Her first husband died, and her
second marriage was problematic. Her new husband was Rodney Newsome, a
tennis instructor at her country club, and 25 years her junior. He was
interested in games of chance.

"He's a gold digger?" Henry asked.

"He is more of a Black Hole. Money just vanishes into the abyss," Thaxton
explained. He brought in an associate, Ralph Edmonds, who was his associate
handling the will.

"Mr. Edmonds is also in charge of renovating our offices. My wife tells me
your firm is highly regarded. I sat in one of Bull's chairs. They were
handsome and comfortable," Thaxton said. "Mr. Bullifant was a gifted man."

"We are still making his furniture, and we have all of his designs for
other furniture, such as conference tables and desks, if you are
interested," Henry said. "Did your wife mention our furniture hand-made and
is sold at a premium?"

Thaxton laughed, "My wife's friends are demanding. They seemed to think the
work was worth the price," he said. It was a cordial meeting.

After this conversation, I wanted to meet Rodney, the second husband. Henry
laughed. "I am afraid seeing him for tennis lessons would be a stretch for
even you. I do know one guy who is a member of the club, Gus Smith. He's
one of Logan's pals." I didn't mention that Gus and I had met. Gus was a
stock broker and advisor who worked for his father's firm. A good portion
of his work was conducted on the golf course.

Rodney had lost most of women he had been giving lessons to when he
married. Gus had no problem arranging to get lessons. Gus did well with the
first lesson.  He was a naturally athletic man. He told Rodney he liked a
bar nearby and asked if he would like a drink. The Club rules didn't allow
staff to drink with members. Rodney was more than willing.

I was at the bar and waved them over to my table. I ordered drinks for them
when I realized that Rodney was not the sort of man who would say no to a
free drink. He eyed several women there.  They were busty and brash.  He
was clearly interested. If I were married to a middle-aged heiress, I would
have stayed clear, but Rodney was not picky.

Rodney was a good-looking redneck who didn't like to work. He wasn't too
bright or that handsome, but he didn't know it. The women thought he was a
diamond in the rough, but only the rough part was true. After fifteen
minutes of conversation it was clear to me that Rodney wasn't bright enough
to plot an elaborate scheme. While we were chatting, a guy came up to our
table. He was Charles Donavan, Ellen's son by her first marriage.

Rodney thought he had accepted him as a step-father. Rodney was not a good
judge of character. I had the impression tht Rodney was a small predator
who was going to be devoured by a larger predator. Charles was just waiting
to decide if he would devour him at lunch or at dinner. If any one did a
nature documentary about life in the country club, Charles would be the
tiger.

I also came to realize that Gus and Charles were acquainted, and there was
a good chance it wasn't platonic. Rodney left to go home, and Gus and
Charles' relationship became clearer. Gus was an attractive man, blond,
with an athletic body, and a cheerful personality.  They had gone to the
same school. Charles was an upper-class man; Gus was an athletically gifted
junior. Somehow, I had a vision of an unexpected encounter in the shower
room, followed by some exploring of the possibilities. Charles mentioned he
was surprised by the Mutt & Jeff contrast in size. Gus joked that I was big
where it counted. "Really?" Charles said.

Gus smiled and added, "Really Big." Charles smiled too. He lived nearby,
and we went to his house to watch a baseball game. Gus said he was stiff
from his tennis lessons and suggested a quick trip to the whirlpool. From
then on everything was on automatic pilot with a few variations. Charles
was putting on weight but had a hairy chest and a treasure trail to his
bush.

Gus told him that we had gotten it on and it had been great. Charles said
there was a lot more to me than he had guessed, and he wouldn't mind seeing
it in action.

"Do you want to join in?" I asked.

"Well, I'm not exactly a virgin, but you are in a different weight class
than I am," Charles said. "I might join in if I get inspired."

Gus laughed and said, "I've never known Charles not to get inspired."

"If things get a little messy, don't worry, the filter system in this hot
tub works fine," Charles said.

Charles was one of those guys who loved man sex, but couldn't admit it. I
knew the type.  His cock was already getting firm and I knew he would do
more than observe. I sucked Gus and then sat on the edge of the tub to let
him suck me. Charles the first to my cock.

"I drool and ooze some," I said. Gus went to Charles's rear and his cock
made a direct hit on Charles's prostate. Gus had been there before and knew
exactly what rang his pal's chimes. Charles was clearly comfortable with
Guy in his ass. I was able to get in the water to suck Charles's drooling
cock.

We broke apart to catch our breath. We had a drink and I could almost see
Charles's mind trying to decide if he take my cock. Gus's tool wasn't
gigantic, but it was substantial. We talked as Charles fondled our
cocks. He said he wanted to get rid of Rodney before he hurt his
sister. "Is he trying to get her money?" I asked.

"Of course, he is, but out lawyers are better than his," Charles said. "I
was plotting to get him, but I've stopped worrying. I figure he will screw
himself without my help. They live in the big house.  The servants will
warn me if he tries anything violent."

Gus's cell phone buzzed, and he went off to take the call. "Gus told me he
had a good time with you. He's more open about that kind of thing, than I
am. I'm a textbook closeted guy. "Does that offend you?" he asked.

"If the sex is good, I don't give a crap," I replied.

`What if it isn't that good?" he asked. "I'm not sure what I can take. I
know you are a size or two bigger than Gus."

"I might give you points good attitude," I said. Gus and Charles were okay,
but not my dream men. Somehow our cocks and assholes were made for each
other.  Everything fit perfectly and hit all the good places. Sex was easy,
fun and satisfying. Charles may have been a rich boy working in the family
business, he was willing to give and take sexually. My cock was a bit big
for him, but he sat on it and undulated his hips as Gus sucked him. Gus
took his load and when we broke apart, shared Charles cum with me and with
Charles.

He later took a full load from me enthusiastically. He told me afterwards
that my cock in his ass was more intense than pleasurable, but the spurting
cock in his mouth was 110% good. He was more into sex than love, except for
Gus. I had a cock; Gus has a love stick. It's hard to analyze a man's
personality through anal sex, a good portion of his thoughts are occupied
elsewhere, but I felt good about him.