Date: Fri, 19 Sep 2008 03:54:12 -0700 (PDT) From: Bob Archman Subject: Catfish Helps Uncle Jake Catfish Helps Uncle Jake by Bald Hairy Man This story fills in a gap between Young Catfish and Millennium Construction Company. Catfish also appears in Play Pen. It is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you don't like that DON'T read it. You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual. No effort to portray safe sex practices has been made. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com. Uncle Jake was my Mom's brother and was really helpful after Dad died. Mom was a self reliant woman and smart too, but once and a while she could use a man's help. Those times mostly involved me. I didn't exactly shine academically, but I did get out of High school. I was on the edge of getting in trouble once and a while but Jake helped with that. He was a pal of the police chief and knew most of the cops. He could talk me out of borderline situations. Borderline line situations involved drinking. The drinking was an effort to forget I was gay. Jake tried to teach me gay was okay. He told me it was alright, but when you're young, a great big secret can screw you up. I had discovered the joys of gay sex with a pal, and had honed my skills with a little tutelage from Jake. After Graduation I went off to Roanoke to make my fortune and fell in with a bunch of jerks. They were the kind of jerks impressionable kids think are cool and I wanted to be like. Looking back why a beer drinking, gun-toting, foul-mouthed , anti-gay ass wipe impressed me I no longer understand. It turns out being an anti-gay cock sucker can really screw you up. It sure screwed me up. I had lost a few jobs and things weren't going well for me when I got a call from Mom. Jake had been in a hit-and-run accident and was badly hurt. I jumped into my Dodge Duster and got home as fast as I could. Mom is a nurse, so when she said he was hurt badly, it wasn't good. He was in a coma with a possible brain injury as well as having a broken arm and leg as well as cracked ribs. Luckily a day later he came out of the coma without serious brain injury, but he was going to be out of commission for months. Mom was frantic with worry. She had a full time job and needed the money. She couldn't quit to take care of Jake. We couldn't afford the cost of a nurse for him. I said I'd do it. Mom gave me money to pay my last months rent in Roanoke and I moved into Jake's house. Jake was double my size, so nursing him should have been a problem. Fortunately he would do anything he could to help, so I just had to fill in the gaps. Mom taught me all of her nurse's tricks for dealing with big people and they worked. It was difficult at first because Jake was in pain most of the time. After a week the pain subsided and we had found a way to handle most problems. One problem almost stumped us. Jake and I both liked to take short cuts. He believed the doctors were just being pessimistic about his situation. He thought we could speed things up. Mom would have none of that. "I've seen the god damned x-rays!" she said. "Don't even think about speeding things up. You're a big man brother Jake. If you put weight on that leg it will break again. You were close to having it amputated as it was!" I hadn't known about the amputation thing. I was shocked. Mom never swears, so we knew she was serious. This was going to be a long haul. I always thought of Jake as just an old retired man. He was born and raised in the community and was regarded as a sensible and intelligent man. He normally wore overalls and a plaid shirt. I saw him once when he went to a meeting of the Industrial Development Commission. He was wearing a navy blue suit, a white shirt and a tie. I was blown away. He looked like Earnest Hemingway, if Hemingway had dressed well. After I went to Roanoke, he was elected to the school board. Jake wasn't much on day time television, so we had a lot of time to kill as he recovered. Jake remembered nothing of the accident. He was walking across the street and woke up three days later in the hospital. Police Chief Walker came over the question him about it. I had known his predecessor, but Clint Walker was new to me. Clint Walker was his real name, but he didn't look much like the cowboy star. He was short and beefy, a former Marine. The truck that hit him had out of state tags, was blue and was made by Ford, Dodge or GMC. The only witness was a woman who wasn't much into trucks. "Do you know Mable Ellington?" Clint asked. "She's a teller at the bank. I wish she was more observant." "Did she notice anything of use," Jake asked. "There was one odd thing. She said it swerved to hit you," Clint replied. "I told her, that was unlikely, but she insists." "Is she a flake?" I asked. "She didn't strike me that way." "Any skid marks?" I asked. Clint was quiet for a minute. "Come to think of it, no." "The car was going north on Elm Street?" I asked. He nodded. "No sun in the eyes. What were you wearing Uncle Jake." "My brown over alls, plaid shirt and vest," he said. "The hunters day-glow orange one?" Jake nodded again. "Damn it Jake, a Christmas tree walking across the street couldn't have been more visible than you." "Is it possible the driver didn't know he had hit a man?" I asked. "Was Uncle Jake just a bump in the road." "Miss Ellington said Jake was thrown on the wind shield. They was no way the driver could have missed it," Clint said. "Johnny Muller killed his wife the day after the accident. It's occupied my time. I think I need to spend more time on your case Jake." We talked for a while and Chief Walker got ready to leave. "Are you the guy they call Catfish?" Clint asked. "Oh shit. Someone told on me!" I said. Clint smiled. "He's not as bad as he looks," Uncle Jake said. "How old are you?" Clint asked. "21." "Damn, you look like you're 40!" Clint said. "Don't worry, his mind's still immature," Jake said. He was smiling, so it was a joke, not a cut. "Catfish, you may look like crap, but you have a detective's mind," Clint said. "I've got to get back to the office. I'll look into this accident. It might be fishy." I took him to the door. "The murder distracted me," he said as he left. "I'm going to look into this." As he left we shook hands he took a long look at my crotch. He had heard about me. I went to make dinner for Jake. Mom had given me some recipes and I was good at following instructions. She came for dinner and we sat in Jake's room and chatted as we ate. She was interested in the Chief of Police's visit. "I don't know him," she said. "Is he as good as Chief Johns?" "Not yet, but he will be," Jake said. "He's new to these parts, but I think he's a fast learner. He was caught up in the Muller murder." "They're always killing each other," Mom said. "I wish the Mullers could get through a wedding or a major holiday without someone getting cut or shot." "Do you know Mabel Ellington?" "Yes, she's a nice girl. She married to the man who runs the co-op," Mom said. "She joined the church last year. Mabel's expecting her first shortly." Mom was a pillar of the Presbyterian Church, and tended to regard other Presbyterians highly. "Is she given to flights of fancy?" I asked. "She's a sweet girl, but she's very serious," Mom said. "I don't think she has a sense of humor. She doesn't get any of Rev. Weatherford's jokes. She just doesn't get it. I don't think she has any tendencies toward flights of fancy." Jake told her Mabel saw the accident and thought it as done on purpose. "That's odd, but I don't think she would make anything up," Mom said. The conversation moved on to Jake's heath. She did a short physical and took his vital signs. Mom was always alert for any sign of infection and was worried about bed sores. We changed the sheets. Jake insisted she go home to sleep. She worked long shifts, so she didn't need second job at night. There was another reason. Left to his own devices, Jake liked to be naked. It was cooler and with casts on his arm and leg, getting dressed was a pain. Life was simpler naked. Uncle Jake had given me some of my earlier lessons in man sex, so seeing him naked was no problem for me. I gave him a sponge bath and we watched television. The phone rang and Jake answered it. He chatted for a minute or two. "Catfish, it's Chief of Police Walker," Jake said. "He was going to come over and get to know you better. Are you game?" "How well do you know him?" I asked. I knew the answer. Jake and Chief Johns were playmates and I had played with the former Chief a few times as a kid. Uncle Jake just smiled. "Okay, I'm always willing." I said. "To tell you the truth, I knew that," Jake said. He called Clint and told him to come over. Ten minutes later the door bell rang. Chief Walker was there with another man, he introduced as Monty. Monty was either a trooper or a police officer and he looked uneasy. "Come on in Chief Walker," I said. "Would you like something to drink? I'd love a beer." "We'll take one too," Walker said. "Go to Jake's room and I'll bring the drinks there." They went to the bedroom while I went to the kitchen. By the time I got back to Jake's room all was well. Jake was big, hairy, naked and hung. Monty looked like he had won the lottery. I like older guys, but I knew most gay guys like younger men. When I comes to looking young, I never got in the game. I looked middle aged at 16. Monty was a hunk. He could get almost anyone he wanted. He was all but drooling over Jake. As Monty drooled over Jake, Clint looked me over. I was young then and I didn't recognize the signs indicating a size queen on the prowl. I was well aware how attractive I was and didn't mind if it was my cock they were after. I liked man sex and as long as I got some fun out of it, I was a happy camper. It was fine if they only liked me for my cock as long as I got to fill their ass with my cum. Jake was nude, I was wearing cut offs and nothing else, but our guests were fully dressed. "Why don't you boys get more comfortable so we can have a little fun." Jake asked. "I like to chat, but there are other things I like more." Walker took the lead and Monty followed. When Clint saw my cock I knew he was hooked. He came to me like an iron filing to a magnet. "Damn, did someone in your family mate with a donkey?" Clint asked. "There's some big meat here." "We all get the cards were dealt," Jake said. Monte was about six feet tall and well built. He had a regulation trooper mustache and was well groomed except for a tangle of hair covering his body. Clint was five-six and a body builder. Dressed he was stocky, naked he was spectacular. He had a hairy chest and a treasure trail leading to his bush, uncut, his cock head was halfway up the tube of skin. I'm not the shy type so I fondled his cock and played with his extra foreskin. He stroked my cock and I got half hard immediately. That does nothing to diminish my attractiveness to size queens. I leaned over and asked, "Did Jake happen to mention I'm a top?" He said, "No." "Is that a problem?" I whispered. He looked me in the eye. "I kind of doubt it," he said. "Do you bottom?" "I can give and I can take," I replied. I looked at Monty and Jake. They were having a nice, quiet conversation. The only part I could hear was Jake explaining that the sheets had just been changed and he didn't want anything to spill on them. Monte indicated that wouldn't been a problem. I eased my way to the floor and began sucking Clint. I do like cocks and I like them big, but I like the accessories too. By accessories I mean the balls, the body and the mind. The whole package is what I like, especially if that package is masculine. I don't dislike queens, but they just don't do much for me sexually speaking. Chief Walker was an attractive package, I was worried he would be too up tight to enjoy it. Chief Johns had some mileage on him. He knew the ropes and knew what he wanted. I had a good time sucking Clint. His cock was short and stubby, but extra skin increased the size of the playing field. The skin had trapped all of the day's ooze and had fermented it. I tasted a little left over soap from his mornings shower and some precum. I was pretty sure the pre cum came after his meeting with Jake and me. I have always suspected a cock head protected by foreskin is more sensitive than an unprotected head. That was the case with Clint. His knob was smooth, shiny and tender. As my tongue caressed it he began to drool pre cum, lots of precum. Clint was both masculine and macho. I guessed he wanted to be the strong silent type. I hate to work my magic on a guy and have him only show his appreciation by shooting some cum in my face. Clint was too turned on to be macho once I had his knob in my mouth. My tongue explored every nook and cranny of his cock, before concentrating on his cock head. The juices began to flow big time. "Are you okay? I asked. ""I guess so," he said. I licked the underside of his head where the skin n attached. He moaned. "It's just okay?" I asked as I licked and second time. He looked at me and smiled. I could feel him relaxing as he got into the scene. He had big balls in a tight sack, so it didn't have anything to hold on to. I slipped a finger toward his ass so I could hook it in his hole. As I did the flow from his cock doubled. His hole was tight, very tight, but there was a surprise. It was lubricated. He fought my finger, but I won and soon my index finger was playing a little tune on his prostate. I had never fucked Chief Johns, so I was wondering how I would get Clint into a fuckable position. Some guys get a case of buyers remorse when it's time to take my cock. I got up, expecting that Clint would suck me and damn if he didn't get on his hands and knees, wiggling his ass at me. I know an invitation when I see it. Jake and Monty watched from the bed. Jake sent Monty to deliver some lubricant and a bottle of poppers, just in case. I don't think he realized his boss bottomed. That was an eye opener. I had the sense that Monty was new to the scene. He had the look of a man who wanted to do a lot more than he had done. Monty handed me the lubricant and I coated my cock. I took a few licks of Monty's cock as I got ready. Clint was tight and it took a good while and half the tube of lube, but I got in. I have a club cock, thick and long, but my head is about the size of the shaft. Most guys seem to have more of a problem with the diameter, rather than the length. I had most of it in when he hit a wall. He didn't say anything but I knew he was near his limit. I put my hand on the small of his back and pushed. He back was arched and pop, I was in. He was surprised and relieved. Once I was in, I rested and let Clint get use to it. It's nice to have a quiet time after penetration. I could feel his heart racing and he twitched as his body tried to figure out what to do with the invader in his ass. I had guessed Clint was a "no pain, no gain" guy. Some men just want to take it just to prove they can. Clint was still. He was trying to catch his breath. He began to wiggle his ass and work my cock into a better position. His heart was pumping normally now. I opened the bottle of poppers and gave him a snort, then took a snort for myself. The amyl must have hit our systems at the same time. I could do no wrong; Clint could feel no pain. I began some short thrusts. If I thrust hard, Clint gasped for breath, but if I did it slower, he shivered and shook in pleasure. His tight ass felt as if it were shrink wrapped to my cock. I pushed his legs wider to open him up more, then I grabbed his shoulders and held him tight. Sometimes you fuck an ass, but other times you fuck the whole man. As I pumped I had the feeling I was fucking every organ in Clint's body. For about ten minutes we were fucking wild men. There was nothing that didn't work. I knew Clint was enjoying getting fucked as much as I enjoyed screwing him. Unfortunately all good things come to an end, and with fucking, the better it is, the quicker it ends. I half expected to see my cum spurting out of Clint's ears. I pulled out, rolled him over and sucked his bloated cock. A second later I got a mouthful of Chief of Police Special Reserve. It was plentiful, creamy and steamy. As I said his head was tender, and my taste buds were rough in comparison. He was shivering and moaning, his head was ultra sensitive, but I didn't let him off the hook. I sucked up every drop. Shit, if I could have sucked out his balls through his cock, I'd have done it. We broke apart and caught our breath. I thought we had put on a good show for Jake and Monty, but they were busy. Monty was wedged between Jake's good leg and his cast as was doing his best to coax out Jake's aged Special Reserve from his bull balls. I hadn't sampled that delicacy in at least three years. His balls were still productive then. "I haven't drained them in a month," Jake murmured. I think Jake intended that as a warning, so Monty could pull off before the flood. It had the opposite effect. Monty tried to deep throat the monster meat. Jake began to moan. Some guys have Gaydar. I'm pretty good at that, but I have a better sense of Gay ESP. Somehow I knew this was the first time Monty had drunk straight from the spigot. Orgasms can only be so bed. They're always great for you, and they are fun to watch in other men, but sucking on a spurting cock is next best to spurting yourself. Monty just discovered that. I helped Monty untangle himself from Jake. He stood for a second or too, rock hard but dizzy from excitement. Clint got up on his knees and licked Monty's tool. That all it needed. Monty popped and almost fell over. I was there to catch him. This is where the ESP got strange. I hadn't swallowed Clint's cum yet. I was sort of using it as a gargle. It turned out Monty had done the same thing. The three of us had, what must have been, the messiest kiss in the history of gay sex. Three tongues touched in a sea of seed. I'm not much of a kisser, but this I liked. I guessed Clint was familiar with Jake's seed, but from the excitement level, Monty's seed was a new delicacy. Monty pulled away and went to Jake. He opened his mouth and Jake saw the cream. Jake smiled and the two men kissed. We all cooled off and Clint and I took a shower. Monty resisted leaving Jake. Jake had a big shower he had installed after his wife died. "I've never done anything like that in my life," Clint said. "I lost it." "I don't want to sound contrary, but I think you found a lot more than you lost," I said. He smiled at me. "I guess you're right. What does Monte think of me?" "Is Monty a good guy?" "He is a good man," Clint said, "but he's a real straight arrow." "You're a good man too," I said. "I maybe wrong about this, but I would bet you're a straight arrow?" Clint didn't say anything, but he was thinking. It's easy to get brainwashed into thinking gay men are bad. I think it's better to be gay than to be a pompous and sanctimonious preacher who spews hate every Sunday. It's probably better to be gay than to be an anti gay politician who is married to his third wife and trolling for his fourth. Somehow I suspect the violently anti gay and anti "sin" people are hiding a big, dark secret. In my book being hateful and nasty is much worse than a blow job. Monty and Clint left and I had a really good nights sleep. I think all of us slept well.