Date: Mon, 27 Nov 2017 14:36:14 -0500
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish finds Trouble

Catfish Finds Trouble

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

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Mom called with a problem. She was a classic Presbyterian church lady:
kind, helpful, but no fool. She had been a nurse long enough that people
and their problems aren't simple and clear cut. Rules were important, but a
little flexibility is needed sometimes. Ridged beliefs can sometimes be
dangerous.  She had a clear understanding that evil is sometimes disguised
as stupidity. The contrary is true. Stupid can appear to be evil.

She also knew the being bad ranges from condemning you to hell for ever and
deserving a stern talking to. While I wasn't everyone idea of a good son,
we had always got along. There were bumps in the road, and a few wrong
turns, I ended up in the right place.

Her favorite nephew, Tommy Miller was the District Attorney in Fort Greene,
the county seat of Blue Ridge County. Fort Greene was a big town with
11,000 residents. It was near enough to Blacksburg to provide housing for
faculty and staff for the university located there.  The Court House and
the county schools were in the town so there were teachers and lawyers
living in the town.

One of the sheriff's deputies was searching the web, and he found a mention
of the Knights of the Mountain sponsoring a rally in Fort Greene. Ellery,
the deputy, was politically a bit to the left of Genghis Kahn, but not by
much. Ellery was also firmly opposed to any disturbance in His Town. The
Knights were troublemakers in his view.

He took the information to Sheriff Wilson and he took it to Tommy. Ellery,
Wilson and Tommy were not politically liberal, but they were no fools. The
knights were a small, nasty, vocal group, pretty much a local version of
the KKK. The Sheriff had a staff of 20, and the Town Police had ten
officers. They didn't want and incident and were not equipped to handle a
major event. There was one detective.

They needed more information about the Knights and their plans.

Tommy wasn't worried about bigots in general. Most seemed to be vocal
mostly when they were drinking and by the time they were ready to act on
their beliefs, they had passed out. He was worried about crazy people. The
Knights attracted troubled men. Troubled men with guns are a big problem.

Mom asked if I could come by and talk with Tommy. He could call on the
State Police if there was trouble, but he really wanted to know what the
Knights were planning. He wanted intelligence.

I wasn't sure what I could do in Fort Green. I couldn't do it myself, I was
way too memorable to do undercover work. I asked around the office to see
if we had any connections.  I was surprised to fined that I had three
operatives who might be useful. Donnie Willis was a redneck's redneck from
Roanoke. The had the look, the drawl and the attitude. His uncle had been
in the KKK. He hated his uncle, but knew the lingo. The uncle had died, so
there was no one to tell anyone that Donnie was not part of the
brotherhood.

Lisa's first husband had been a racist bigot. It was a High School romance
that went bad, really bad. Her ex was now living in Alabama and couldn't
return to Virginia because of outstanding warrants. There was also a
problem with Lisa's older brother who wanted to kill him.

The third prospect was a Black retired cop, Rutherford, who devoted his
life to the internet. One of his on-line personas was as a White
Nationalist.  His best friend had been killed in a drive by, racially
inspired shooting. Unsolved, Rutherford was still hunting. The Nationalist
sites were secretive, and e-mails don't reveal the race of the sender.

I went to see Mom. Tommy, Ellery and Wilson were visiting. Fort Greene was
a nice town without major racial or ethnic problems. They wanted it to
remain that way. I guessed that Ellery was not to the manor born, but he
was a firm law-and-order guy. I assumed he was a firm but fair sort of cop.

Rutherford had been looking as web sites as soon as I mentioned the
problem. He had some access to the dark web. He had found some passwords
that gave him some access. There had been chatter about a demonstration in
a surprise location. The events in Charlottesville had been a great success
in their view, but it would be hard to repeat now that the authorities were
fully aware of the potential violence. A spectacular demonstration of their
power was desirable, but with the police on the watch, it would be more
difficult.

Tommy had some names, but secret organizations are careful about that. The
Knight's head man was Sydney Roberts. Sydney was the son of a
well-respected doctor, but never amounted to much. "He's lazy, rude and a
bit of a con-man," Ellery explained. "He blames his situation on them."

"Them?" I asked.

"Blacks, Jews, foreigner's, pointy headed intellectuals all seem to be
them. He made it through two semesters at UVA," Tommy said. "He is the kind
of guy who was born knowing more than men who spent a life in study. He's
divorced and chasses anything that has breasts."

"He spends his life at the Greene Grill, a local dive. The sell cheap beer,
and tend to rent out the waitresses," Ellery said. "Do you have a redneck
Matta Hari?"

"I assume there is quite a turnover in waitresses?" I said.

"There are some regulars, but two or three weeks is normal for the girls,"
Ellery answered. "The word is that Syd has trouble getting it up. He likes
sex, but he needs to be drunk and he falls asleep before he gets a girl in
bed."

Lisa new all about that type and hated them. However, Lisa was really into
revenge. She might be willing, I thought.

"I assume Syd has an entourage?" I said.

Tommy nodded. "There are two guys, Red and Skeeter who follow him
around. They are dim, not bright enough to see through Syd.  They play body
guards. Syd has a farm in the mountains inherited from his father. They
think they are body guards, but they are more like hired hands," Tommy
said.

"They are real close," Ellery said. "Really, really close if you get my
drift. I don't think Syd swings that way."

"They want to be bikers, but can't afford a Harley," Tommy said. "I kind of
feel sorry for them. They may end up in jail for Syd and they will never
know why." Mom had dinner for us and the conversation continued. I had some
ideas to get into the Knights of the Mountains. Bad guys with lots of flaws
are good for investigators, as are marginal sidekicks.

Ellery gave me a ride to my motel. My mother's house was not good for a man
on crutches. She was a nurse and wanted to take care of me, but she was
also nearing 90. She needed rest.

"Tommy told me that you swing both ways," Ellery said.

"Tommy told you wrong, I swing only one way. Mom doesn't even pretend I
haven't met the right girl anymore," I said. "I kind of think you might
have the same problem."

"Sort of," Ellery said. "Tommy said you were short, hairy and hung like
Godzilla."

"You like the Godzilla part?" I asked.

"Sort of."

"Ellery, I am usually horny as hell and always ready to have some fun," I
said. "I don't like messing around with guys who lie there like a log and
pretend they don't like it."

"I'm not sure I can relax," Ellery said. "I sure would like to give it a
try. My Mom and Dad died over the last two years. I'm on my own now. Does
that sound stupid?"

"Some things take time.  Everyone is different," I said.

He helped me get into the motel room. I offered him a beer. He said he
would take one. "My brothers and sister moved away. I helped take care of
the farm. We sold it after Dad died," he said.

"Did you get short changed by the will?" I asked.

"No, I knew it was an even distribution. It's just hard to get a new life
at fifty," he said.

"I moved away in my twenties. Mom knew I was gay, but I didn't want to rub
her nose in it. It's a small town and a gay son is a problem," I
explained. "Mom remarried an older man. He was a good guy and she was
happy. Things worked out for both of us." There was a long pause in the
conversation. "Do you want to mess around some or talk?"

"I should say I want to talk," he said. I started to unbutton my shirt. He
looked relieved. I know that even straight guys can be size queens. Ellery
was at least semi-gay and maybe 150% a size queen. He wore a police
standard mustache, worked out and had a hairy chest. It seemed at first, he
had a small cock, but he was a big man. His cock was standard issue, but
looked small on his oversized body.

I took it slow and we had a gradual built-up the intensity. We had been at
it for ten or fifteen minutes when precum began to flow from his cock. He
was a little timid, but when I took a seat in his erect cock, he relaxed.

"You are really into this, aren't you?" he asked.

I smiled. "You may not know this, but your hard cock in my ass is a good
indicator you are into it too," I said.

"Shit yes! I'm going to shoot!" Ellery moaned.

"Don't be shy," I said. He had an almost convulsive orgasm. He shivered,
shook and twitched. I almost lost my seat, but I stayed on his cock. When
he calmed down he asked if I wanted to fuck him.

"Have you ever been fucked?" I asked.

"Once," he replied. "It wasn't that good, but I've been thinking about it
for years."

"I think we had better postpone that until you are fully loaded and horny
as hell," I said. He got dressed and went home. I went to bed. Returning to
Richmond the next morning, I got the ball rolling.

Lisa was willing to get a job at the Greene Grill. She had some experience
as a waitress and would go with Linda. Linda would serve as back up. Donnie
had a cousin who could get him a job working in a local bike store.  It
sold and repaired motorcycles, and was only five miles from Fort Greene.

I gave Tommy's new names to Rutherford to check. Rutherford had some pals
in the office who were interested in the project. One was a retired UVA guy
who wanted to avenge the dishonor of the Tiki Torch parade. Computer guys
tend to be obsessive anyway; obsessive and driven is even better.

Mom called with a helpful bit of information. My Dad's family was from Fort
Greene county. She was mildly interested in genealogy. She wondered if I
might be able to do some research of my Dad's family. I said I wasn't
really interested.

"Catfish, I know you aren't interested, but it gives you an excuse," she
said. "A son insincerely looking for family information can take a lot of
time doing it."

"I think you have come up with a plan," I said. I called Tommy and asked
him about it. He thought that it was a good idea. He said there was a local
motel that would be good. It had back to back rooms, so my room would not
be seen from the road.

I liked to be near the action rather than 150 miles away. My computer
people gave me a high-powered laptop that operated directly from a
satellite. It was close to being CIA secure. Two days later I was at the
Greene Mountain Inn with a double room to the rear. Lisa was at the Greene
Grill with Linda working in the kitchen.  Donnie was detailing bikes.

Lisa made friends quickly, but Linda made friends more quickly. Linda was a
good cook and for much of the Greene Grill's clientele a good cook was a
real find. Most of the Grill's patrons were unmarried middle-aged men and
good food was more important than sex.

Lisa made contact with Syd soon. She played hard to get, but not entirely
inaccessible. She was good about looking slightly interested. Donnie was
staying at my motel.  There was an older wing down the street which rented
rooms by the week, or by the month.  Red and Scooter were well known, but
they liked talking about motorcycles. They never made enough money to get
beyond the glorified scooters they owned.

The next day I took the local taxi and went to the courthouse to begin my
"research." The records office was difficult to get to for a man on
crutches. The assistant County Clerk, a mousy young man named Bob, was very
helpful. He helped me get in the building and was obsessively knowledgeable
about the County Records. I had to pretend to be interested in it just to
be polite.

I found a few relatives and got interested in searching further. Bob
suggested a sandwich shop next door for lunch. Tommy was there with his
wife having lunch. He pretended to not know me. His wife, who I had met
once, came over to me.

"Cousin Noland, what are you doing here?" she asked.

I told here the story about researching genealogy for my mom.

"Do come by and see us. How long are you going to be here? You must come
for dinner. Tomorrow?" she asked. I said that sounded good to me. She went
off, having established a harmless excuse for seeing Tommy.

I hobbled over to the County Historical Society which was a block
away. They were only open in the afternoon. The woman there was less
helpful than the man at the county offices. She was just a volunteer, but
she said Mrs. Smithy would be in tomorrow. Mrs. Smithy was the real
authority. I went back to the County Court house, but the records office
closed at 4:00.  Bob came out and offered me a ride to the Motel and to
show me around the town.

Fort Greene was a pretty town with tree lines streets and mostly
well-maintained houses. It was like a Norman Rockwell image of small town
Virginia. He told me he lived with his mother who was sort of an invalid.

"That must cut into your social life," I remarked.

"There isn't much social life here, except for High School games and church
night suppers. I go to Roanoke once a while with a pal," Bob said.

"No girl friend?" I asked.

"I'm not a babe magnet," he said.

"I've always looked like something the cat dragged in. Girls usually cross
to the other side of the street when they see me. It's better now that I
have only one leg. They know I can't chase them," I said.

"That must cut down on your sex life," Bob said.

"My sex life with women is non-existent," I said. "That is not a problem."

"Oh," he said. "I am real close to my pal."

"I have pals too," I said. "Let's just say a few are more than close."

"I think I would like that. My buddy and I just mess around," Bob said.

"You could say I mess around with my pals, but there is messing around and
big time messing around," I said. "I like big time."

Bob smiled. "I think I would like that too. I'm afraid, my friend might not
be as into it as I am. I should say, as much as I would like to be." Out of
nowhere he added. "My Mom's at bingo night at the American Legion
tonight. We were at my motel.

"Why don't you come in and have a beer?" I said. Bob said that would be
nice and he looked relieved.

Inside the room I asked him if he knew I was talking about sex. He said
yes.

"Let's get naked and see what happens," I said. He looked a little
scared. I smiled and said, "Remember whatever happens I can't chase you."
He laughed, and all was well.

He had sucked and been sucked, but that was the extent of his sexual
experiences. He was willing to try more, and sex tends to teach itself once
you get into it.  He wasn't Charles Atlas, and it was clear his body had
never been exposed to light. Bob was white as a sheet, except for brown
chest hair, pink tits and a lavender cock head.

When my lips touched the cock head I tasted his cock juices. Bob was
excited, he had a nice, unexpectedly thick tool. He had never sixty-nined
before, but he liked it. He was close to shooting, so we took a break.

"My buddy would love this," he said.

"You could bring him over sometime. I like threesomes," I said. He asked if
he could ask him over now. I said it was fine with me. Ten minutes later
Douglas, a red-haired bear, knocked on the door. He came in, stripped and
joined in. He was stocky, coated is curly, red hair and well hung. After a
minute or two I knew he was more experienced than Bob. He was a size queen
and wanted my cock in where the sun doesn't shine.

Bob joined in with more enthusiasm. Having a friend with him was
reassuring. In some ways Douglas's sexual skills reassured Bob. Bob and
Douglas had a "I'll suck you, if you suck me" relationship. The 69 position
was good for them.

I asked if they had sampled cum and precum. "Does it taste good" Bob asked.

"Precum is usually sweet and tasty. Cum is sometimes an acquired taste," I
said. "I like it now, but it took a while to like it a lot. For me,
watching a buddy shoot off is good. Tasting his cock squirt and shoot is
even better. You get to share his orgasm."

"My nob gets real tender when I shoot," Bob said. "It almost hurts."

"I have some friends who have that problem," I said. "They almost crave it
now."

"Do you want me to take yours?" Bob asked.

"I tend to shoot gully washers. It can be a bit much for someone with
training wheels on," I said.

"I'm embarrassed," Douglas said. "but that sounds great to me."

"I'd like to watch," Bob said.

Douglas was a good sucker. He opened his mouth so that Bob could see my
first ejaculations, and then took every drop. It was good for all of us.

We talked afterwards. Douglas was an equipment operator for a lumbering
company. He lived on the side of a mountain.

"It must be nice and quiet there after a day of listening to machinery and
chain saws," I said.

"It would be if I didn't have a neighbor who is into motorcycles," Douglas
said. "A few times a week he has guys come by.  My neighbor is an
asshole. His friends are assholes too!"

"Syd has always been a jerk. I went to school with him. He was okay when
his Dad was alive. After his Dad died, he became a pure, 100% asshole," Bob
said. "He comes by my office all of the time. His family once had thousands
of acres. They sold off most of it during the Depression and in the 40s. He
wants the land back. He says it's his god given estate, and that land deals
made after FDR are void because FDR was communist."

"He sounds like a bold thinker," I said.

"He's more like bold lunatic," Bob replied. "Add that to rude, nasty,
greedy and stupid and you perfectly describe Syd." Bob had to get home to
his mother.

Douglas stayed a little later. "I don't know of Bob knows how much I like
this gay stuff. I love it," he said.

"I'd love to see your place and maybe we could have some private time," I
said.

"I'd fucking love that," he replied.

"Is fucking an option," I asked.

"That's a possibility, but I can't make any promises," he replied.

"I make no demands, I just present opportunities," I said.  Douglas smiled.