Date: Sun, 31 Dec 2017 15:11:55 -0500
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Finds Trouble 5

Catfish finds Trouble 5
By Bob Archman

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!


Sometimes my sexual tastes lead me down odd tangents unrelated to the case
I am working on. My episode with Sandy was not one of them.

Sandy explained the situation to his Grandfather and he had a heart to
heart with Jackson. Jackson decided to fully co-operate with the police.
Jackson was a minnow in a sea of sharks, and a bit of a dim lightbulb, but
he had heard things.

Rod Richardson lived at the foot of the Blue Ridge near Lovingston,
Virginia. That was a small community and Rod was a memorable guy. Someone
would know him. Rod's top henchman was a guy named Bubba O'Brien. Bubba was
known to the State Troopers and his father owned a lumbering operation
between Charlottesville and Lovingston. There were two or three leads to
check. Jackson provided a lot of information and was mostly unaware of what
he knew. He remained in protective custody. As far as his pals knew he had
disappeared.

According to Jackson, Syd saw himself as the overall leader of the
group. He wasn't the only one. While some of the motorcycle groups were
large, the more political and hate-based groups were often smaller. Sandy
said that many of the leaders tended to inflate the membership of their
groups. Some were small, but they included in the "membership" people who
might join if they made a major move.

Fairfax was over joyed when heard about Bubba O'Brian. He had found bomb
related e-mails signed B.O'B. Fairfax had recruited a retired mathematician
who was into statistics and probability. Fairfax had thought the signature
was just a souped-up version of Bob. Statistically, a man named Bubba
O'Brian and the initials had to be related.

While normal people were shocked by the bombing, there was a minority who
were excited by the event. Some of the groups thought that an event such as
a major bombing, would be good for recruitment. I have employed a lot of
people through the years. Catfish & Company deals with the slimy underbelly
of the populace, some of my operatives still had connections. Several were
willing re-establish their connection and get back into action. They had
been peripherally associated with some suspect groups and had disappeared.
In the real world that would be big problem. If you are a
racist-anti-Semitic bigot, a disappearance from time to time is
expected. My people went back to work.

Mom called me and said the funeral was be in three days, friends and
families only. The Governor and most of the Commonwealth Attorneys were
friends, so security would be strict. Mom would have preferred to not have
the Governor in attendance, but it was important for Helen's parents. The
governor was good in this sort of situation, and his attendance would focus
on Helen's achievements, not on her death.

I was feeling left out of things, but I realized that was the way it should
be. I had built an organization that was not dependent on me. I wasn't
needed in Fort Greene, but I decided to stay until my mother left.

Sandy and his uncle stayed too. An Uncle Ralph had driven the Grandfather
over. Once he had set Jackson on the straight and narrow, he went home with
the car. The Uncle and Sandy were staying to act as an early warning system
if Jackson decided to stop cooperating. If he wavered, Grandpa would
return.

Uncle Ralph was a just retired cop who was on disability following a
work-related accident. Sandy had told me about his families swimming hole
adventures. He told Ralph about his own adventures with me.  Before he
became a Trooper, Ralph had frolicked with the older men, but had played
only with men his age. Ralph was a bit of an exhibitionist. The younger
guys had watched, but never played with Ralph.

Ralph had walked the straight and narrow during his time in the police.
There had been a scandal when a trooper gave women a chance to trade sex
for an arrest. That had been bad for the trooper, and Ralph loved being a
trooper. Ralph was a bearish, big man who looked strong. A year earlier a
bank robber had rammed his cruiser at high speed and almost killed
him. Ralph said most of his innards and bones were held together with
scotch tape and super glue. As soon as he heard the story about my missing
leg we bonded. When he found out about my sexual preferences, we physically
bonded. After a long recovery period, Ralph was ready to boogie.

Sandy told me that Ralph was member of the club and asked if we might get
together. I'm afraid that I am not good about rejecting possible sexual
connections.  I said sure. That night Ralph and Sandy came over.

After some brief conversation, I asked if they wanted to get naked and
play.

"I would like that," Ralph said. "I need to warn you, I have some scars."

"Well, if you ignore my missing leg, I'll ignore you scars," I said.

"That a deal!" Ralph said with smile. He and Sandy began to strip. I did
notice that his cock had survived the accident without injury. As soon as
he saw my cock, I guessed he was a Size Queen.

I could see it in his eyes, but he also exclaimed, "Shit, that's fucking
beautiful." My finely tuned detective instincts were 100% right about that.

"Sandy, the last time I saw you naked you were a kid. "You're a big boy
now, do you have any problem with heavy-duty, old guy sex?" he asked.

"I kind of doubt it, Uncle Ralph," Sandy said. "When I saw your cock years
ago, I wanted to see and do more."

"I don't do kids," Ralph said, as he put his arms around me. "This boy
ain't no kid."

Ralph made up for inexperience with enthusiasm. Ralph was a big macho man.
I think he thought he was bi, but I soon realized he was maybe 90% gay and
10% bi. He was more of a bottom than a top, but he didn't know it.  Maybe
he was more of a top, but his prostate disagreed; I was all gay and very
needy. That was nice for Sandy and me.

My cock was the cock of his dreams, and he wanted it. It took some work to
get it all in him, but it was worth it for him and me. Sandy watched and
commented that my cock was huge, and Ralph's ass was small. He thought
Ralph could never take it all. Sandy seemed to inspire Ralph.

Someone knocked at the door. I looked through the peephole and saw Rex and
Douglas. I let them in. They saw Rex and Sandy naked and stripped. It was a
100% redneck group of men who liked to mess around. Cock sucking occurred
immediately, before introductions. Naked, erect men make friends quickly.

The men were used to quickies in the woods or a chance meeting at a rest
stop. A room in a motel was upscale for these guys. I wondered if they
would take advantage of a chance to get down and dirty. They all had tested
the water by messing around. Would they jump into the deep end?

The answer was yes. I thought Sandy might be left out, since he was 10-5
years younger than the other men. It wasn't a problem. He was more than
willing to make new friends and learn new skills. He had a crash course on
taking a cock in the ass and passed with flying colors.

Ralph was the star of the night. He had been a straight as an arrow State
trooper for 20 years. This night, he discovered his inner slut. He was free
to indulge all the urges he had suppressed for years. Rex and Douglas were
Ralph's idea of near perfect men. After not bottoming in years, he was
willing to give and take with them.

I was not that mobile, so one of them sucked me while the other guys
tag-team fucked him. I ooze a lot of precum and I was afraid I might run
dry. That wasn't a problem. At first, I was sitting up at the pillows and
one guy was on his stomach sucking me as the other men took him from the
rear.

Later, I stayed in the same position, but the bottom was sort sit on my lap
holding his legs back as the other guys fuck him. That gave us all a good
view of the penetration, and you could see the reaction of the cock and
asshole. That added some zip to the sex.

Sandy made a deal with his Uncle. The Uncle would fuck Sandy only of Sandy
fucked him first. That way Ralph couldn't be accused of using his nephew. I
held Ralph open as Sandy shoved his cock into the hole. Sandy was not a
delicate fucker.

Up until then, the men had been edging. They fucked until they were close
and then pulled out for the next man. Sandy had a full body orgasm,
shivering and shaking with each ejaculation. A few minutes later, I was
holding Sandy open as the men took turns. Rex was first in line. He lost it
too and rear loaded Sandy. Rex was happy, but not as happy as Sandy. Sandy
had an additional spurt when he felt the man seed filling his ass.

Douglas was next, and he shot off too. The tension in the room built-up
when it was Ralph's turn. We all knew what was going to happen, but we
didn't know how Sandy and his Uncle would react to it. Ralph positioned his
cock at Sandy's ass. He shot off as he touched the pucker and then shoved
his ejaculating cock into Sandy's ass. Sandy shot off a second time just
about when Ralph was fully impaled. Ejaculations don't lie, it was good for
both

The party broke up. As Rex left, he mentioned there was a lot of noise
coming from the woods. "It sounded like off track vehicles, but there
weren't any lights," he said. "There is a quarter moon to night, but you
would have to be an idiot to drive through the woods with no lights."

After they left I called Police Chief Wilson. Wilson was at a command
center for the State Police, FBI and ATF at the courthouse. He and I both
knew some guys who were that stupid to drive in the dark. It seemed to be a
good guess that they were headed for Syd's farm.

Fifteen minutes later, I went out to get coffee at the motel lobby. All the
police cruisers that had been in the parking lot were gone. The news crews
were getting organized. Word was out that something was afoot.

My mother called and said they were moving to a secure location. That
included Tommy and the children. As a nurse Mom had been used to
high-stress, difficult situations such as accidents and sudden deaths. She
felt her job was to help people, not get emotional or panicky.  As Tommy's
children's favorite aunt, Mom was calm, comforting and informative. In a
situation like this, kids don't know what to do; what is right and
expected. Mom never told they what to do. She told them what is usual and
helpful.

As we spoke there was a terrific boom. Thunder was my first thought, but it
was a clear night. I looked out the door and saw something burning on the
side of a mountain. There was an explosion, followed by a second boom, and
the another.

"Mom, I have a suspicion that out local bomber just blew himself up," I
said. "If they don't tell you what is going on, call me later," I said.

"Be safe," Mom said as she hung up.

By then, copters with high powered lights were on the scene, fire engines
were racing through the streets. The explosions continued, flaming objects
were flying into the air. My suspicion was that someone, who should have
been more careful, had a bomb making factory on the hill.

Suddenly, the copters turned and speeded away from the fire. Three or four
minutes later there was a huge explosion. It looked like the explosions in
the newscasts of the Iraq war. I wondered Syd had military bomb. That
seemed unlikely, and I remembered the Oklahoma bomb. It was huge but had
been made of fertilizer.

Apparently, the big boom had set all the other bombs. The Roman Candles
stopped streaking through the air. It became a plain old fire. The copters
returned with their search lights. As far as I could tell, a good portion
of the fire equipment and Rescue Squads with in a 75 or 100-mile radius of
Fort Green came by us before dawn.

Specialized teams came From Northern Virginia, Richmond and Norfolk. Since
the nearby towns were now down to skeleton crews for local fires, more
distant towns and cities sent crews to help cover local needs. The funeral
was postponed in case there were other plots in the works.

By noon the next day the situation was clearer. Syd's house, barn and
garage were gone, as was anything within a two-hundred-foot radius of the
bomb factory. Any vehicles within that radius were either incinerated or
random parts scattered over a mile from the farm.

Bodies were cremated, or blown into small bits. Eventually the medical
examiner settled for 35 dead. 8 more men were badly burned. There was a
massive roundup of possible accomplices. They found no traces of Syd, or
Bubba O'Brien. Five of the dead were now only small burned pieces and there
was no connected DNA.  They were unidentified.

Mom told the kids that the bad men had blown themselves up. That satisfied
the children. The oldest son asked if he could see the bodies of the bad
guys. Mom told him there wasn't enough to see. She explained that some bad
guys want the attention and it was best to ignore and forget them.

There had been about 50 men at Syd's farm. Only seven escaped death or
major burns. The leaders were dead, and most of the burned men were in
medically induced comas, so information was hard to come by.

Sandy, Ralph and their families thought I was Jackson's savior. He would
have been either blown up or on the way for a long sentence in jail without
my advice. The surviving men knew that telling it all was the only possible
way to get clemency. They were foot soldiers not leaders, but they had some
information.

The original plan had been to have a Charlottesville type
demonstration. When that failed, Syd promoted a single dramatic act to get
national attention. Blowing up a Commonwealth Attorney was to have been
that act. They blew up Helen instead. They wanted a bigger event, and when
the heard the Governor was coming to the funeral, the decided to get him.

The basic scheme was to set off a decoy bomb at the courthouse, and then
drive the fertilizer bomb into the church. The man who was to drive the van
was far enough from Syd's farm to survive. They had told him he was to jump
out of the van at the last moment and run. When he saw the explosion at the
farm, he realized it was a suicide mission. He had not signed up for that.

The press played up the angle of the involuntary suicide bomber. They
wanted to make sure lower tier members of hate-groups knew they were
expendable. They also published some before and after pictures of the burn
victims.

The funeral went on two days later. It was somber and dignified. There were
to have been no photographs, but someone with a telephoto lens took
pictures. The photos had an almost Norman Rockwell, All-American feeling of
a family facing a tragedy with dignity.

From the point of view of the FBI and the ATF, the explosion was good. It
was an illustration of the nature of the hate-groups. It illustrated the
danger of bomb to those who make them, and punished the bad guys.

Two months later I went back to Fort Greene to talk with investigators for
a state commission on the bombings. My role was minimal, but my cyber guys
were on the ball. Lisa drove me, but she had a family emergency, so I told
her to get me the next day or two. The interview was early. The ATF men
were afraid my information was private, and they would need a court order
to get it. I told them they could have it all and they should talk with my
cyber guys. I thought they might have other information of interest. They
became friendly.

I was walking back towards my motel when a truck passed, stopped and backed
up.  It was Ralph. He yelled out to me and gave me a ride.  He explained
his family's situation.  I had saved the family black sheep from jail. The
family was close to being modern Hillbillys. My Mom would have called them
country folk. They lived on several farms and lumbered and hunted.  A few
were wilderness guides and trackers. They were respectable folk. They were
not jail bate, and no one had ever served time.

The Grandfather and Grandmother ruled the clan. Jackson's arrest had
disgraced the family. His conviction would have made it worse. Ralph said
they all knew he wasn't the brightest light bulb in the hardware store, but
that was no excuse for shooting up town of respectable folks. We had a nice
talk. I was a hot late August day. I complained about the heat.

"I have a nice swimming hole near my place," Ralph volunteered. "It's cool
and pleasant; a nice place to skinny dip."

"That sounds nice, but with one leg, I'm not sure," I said.

"I'll keep a good eye on you," he said. "You don't need to worry about
that." I agreed to go home with him.  He called and told Sandy I was on the
way. I later found out that Ralph and Sandy had told a few of the guys
about our good time in Fort Greene.

He was fifteen or so miles away and lived a cabin on the side of the
mountain. The swimming hole was a hundred feet from the cabin. There were
several men in the water already. The women in the family were at a bridal
shower in Roanoke so the several men decided to go swimming. I knew these
were country boys, so no one was gay, but they didn't mind messing around
some. I guessed that the men who came to the swimming hole were the ones
who were into messing around big time. I was right about that.

Most of the men were big, heavy set and bearish. All were muscular. There
were twelve men including Ralph and me.  Sandy and a cousin were the only
younger men there until Jackson arrived with his Grandfather and a
teen-aged friend, Duddy.

They were surprised I was so small. Ralph had described me as having one
leg and being horse hung. Apparently, Ralph said that if there was a cock
brace, I could have used my cock to replace my leg.

About half the guys were in the water. The Grandfather stripped and jumped
into the pond. He was in good shape for an elderly man and had an uncut
donkey dong. He swam some and then came over to me.

"I appreciate your help. Jackson needed all the help he could get. He's hot
headed," he said. "I'm Monty, by the way."

We shook hands. I told him most people called me Catfish. "Doing dumb
things and being a criminal aren't exactly the same thing, but Jackson was
sailing near the edge," I said.

"It isn't the first time Jackson has skirted near the edge, but it better
be the last time," he said. "Sandy told me you sported a natural wonder
between your legs. Is it as big as it looks?"

"It can grow when inspired," I said. "It's fully functional and guys think
it's fun as long as they don't mind the sticky stuff that oozes from it."

"Cock caviar?" he asked. "I don't much like the kissy stuff, and I really
like getting my rocks off. I love it when guys eat it straight from the
spigot," he leaned close to me. "The guys like the family made home brew."

"Are you offering me a sample of yours?" I asked.

"I guess I am," he replied. "I need to tell you I don't always return the
favor. Jackson will suck you dry, if you want." I leaned over and licked
Monty's cock.  He was ready for action and as I worked my tongue into his
thick foreskin. I immediately tasted his sweet precum. Monty could have
been a good poker player. He seemed relaxed and barely interested while his
balls had been pumping out precum for several minutes. Men can be tricky or
calculating. Cocks have only one interest.

We got into it, and Monty had no problem reciprocating. We broke apart and
Monty said he wanted to save the orgasms for later after some playtime. "I
wouldn't mind exchanging some sperm with you later," he said.

I smiled. "That sounds fine to me," I said. He went off to see some pals
and I waited to see who would come to see me. I was surprised when Jackson,
Sandy and Duddy came over to me.

"It is a nice group here. I hope you're having a good time?" Sandy
said. "The party is just starting."

"Hot damn," I replied.