Date: Wed, 2 Sep 2015 22:15:45 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Goes Naked 7

As a Catfish Goes Naked 7
By Bald Hairy Man

This 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, and is
not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual.  I have made no effort
to portray safe sex practices. If you have any comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com


I had cleaned up most of what needed to be done. I could have gone home,
but I decided to stay a little longer. A real vacation would be nice. I was
a little surprised that I liked lying in the sun naked all day. I liked
being ogled and I assumed there had to be some size-queens in Miami who
were not crooks and would enjoy meeting me.

I called the office in Richmond and all was calm and well there. I left the
apartment and went to Ft. Lauderdale. There I got a room in a small
boutique hotel, the Darlington, a few blocks from the beach in a not
particularly stylish area of Ft. Lauderdale. I wanted to get away from my
wealthy redneck character. I registered as Noland, but introduced myself as
Catfish. I had trimmed my beard and mustache and had a haircut. I looked
and felt like a new man.

I was not sure what a boutique hotel was. The Darlington was a 1960s era
motel that had been recently redecorated. The hotel said it was gay
friendly and had a mostly gay clientele. It was pretty swishy when I
checked in.

I had spent the next morning in Miami with Juan helping with reports and
clearing up loose ends. When I returned to the Darlington in the afternoon,
the swishy guests had left and beefy, hairy men had overrun the place. The
entire motel was rented for five days by a Bear group from the North
Georgia mountains. I was the only hold over guest. I am not bear like, but
I am furry and the Desk Clerk assumed I was part of the group.

The rooms wrapped around a pool. Brightly colored awnings sheltered the
pool from the direct sun. The pool area was well landscaped and there were
no high-rise hotels overlooking the pool. It was private. The pool was
clothing optional. Most of the bears were naked. They stared at me. I went
to my room, stripped and went to the pool. I looked for a place to sit and
found an empty chair.  After draping my towel over the chair, I stripped
off my trunks and sat down reading a magazine.

The men noticed me when I came to the room.  They knew I was not one of the
group. I suspected they thought I might complain about the informal dress
code. When they saw me naked and with no tan line, all was well.

That isn't strictly speaking true. All was a lot better than just plain old
well. My Uncle Jake had once said that if I could have walked around naked
all the time I would be popular. He was right. My cock made friends. When I
opened my mouth and they heard my south-west Virginia accent, they realized
we were all but cousins. We were pals in five or ten minutes. The bears
were looking for honey and they guessed it would be drooling from my cock
soon enough.

The pool area was clothing optional, but the motel forbid overt sex.  The
Manager, Louis, saw me and seemed to like what he saw. He was off duty at
five. He stripped and joined my admirers and me. Lewis was a tall, elegant
looking man of about thirty-five. He could have had a career as a sword
swallower. He deep throated me in front of my bear admirers. Louis was not
the shy type.

After that demonstration, he explained the rules. "We are all men here and
I assume none of us are prudes. Here at the Darlington, we like everyone to
have fun, but we want to keep things neat, tidy and sanitary. We cannot
have a guest walk into the courtyard and see men fornicating. The
landscaping provides a screen. If a few of you are standing around forming
a screen around some men who are having some fun that is no problem."

"After dark things can be more free and easy.  I don't want sticky or
slippery stuff on the paving," Louis said. "If anything drips or spurts, it
is best if someone takes it, or licks it up."

A big, Santa look-a-like next to me blurted out, "Just let me know boys!
I'd be willing provide the service." The men laughed.

"As a matter of fact, I can provide the same service in a pinch," Louis
said. "Do we understand each other?"

"What about men who like to entertain on the back porch?" another man
asked.

"Just remember neatness counts," Louis said. "We had one situation where a
man had been entertaining several men, eight I think it was. His ass
dripped white creamy stuff all over the place. That is a housekeeping
problem."

"Could you help out with that situation?" a burly, muscle bear named Butch
asked. Several men laughed.

Louis looked at Butch. "If you were the man doing the entertaining, I might
bust be able to help you out," he said as he winked at Butch.

Later that day Hector and Lefty from Charleston appeared. They produced
non-mainline porn, and I, or more correctly, my cock had been the star of a
short movie. Hector liked older, hairy men and they went to bear events to
sell their wares. Lefty told me that my video was selling well, really
well. They came with young photographer named Rexford. He was a tall, thin
man in his late twenties. Monty, Hector's old photographer had left the
area.

The men were cheerful and friendly. I went to dinner with Butch and two of
his biker type pals, Ed and Pete. Ed was a schoolteacher and Pete was an
insurance agent. They liked the biker look but a dress shirt could hide all
the tattoos. Bikers might like the life style, but it was hard to make a
living. I knew gay men who were professional gays; their jobs were just a
way to use up time before the bars opened.  That seemed like a sad way to
spend your life.

We sat around the pool when we returned from dinner. We ended up in their
room and I discovered that Butch was 100% bottom. Ed and Pete were all
oral, but appreciated observing my skills as a top.

That night I returned to my room I looked out the window. The motel across
the street, the Babington, was a run down version of the Darlington.  The
man who built them named them after his wife who he called Babs or
Darling. When he died, there was a messy problem with the will and crazy
heirs. The properties could not be redeveloped because of the legal
disputes. One of the heirs was in an institution and until he died, the
property was in limbo. The operator of the Darlington was making a go of it
with a retro theme.

The Babington had no such luck. It was approaching flophouse status. As I
watched, I saw Perry and Dominic enter the building. They were some of the
bait used to hook potential robbery victims at the Haulover beach. I
watched for about an hour. Eventually, I saw a dozen men I recognized from
the beach enter the motel.

I called Juan and told him that I suspected I had found the relocated
headquarters of the scheme. He was very interested and asked me to keep an
eye on the place.  He would contact the Ft. Lauderdale police.

I would have watched for longer but Rexford, the photographer, knocked on
my door. "I was wondering if you would like to have a drink at the bar?" he
asked.

"I'm ready for bed, but come on in and we can have a beer," I
replied. Rexford looked like a little boy who came down the stairs
Christmas morning and saw a new bike. I was naked.  He was wearing under
shorts.

"Your movie increased the street cred of the studio. A horse hung star is
big plus," he said.  "I've never met a man who had a bigger cock than
mine."

"Let's see what you got," I said. "We can do a little comparing." Rexford
dropped his shorts. He was semi hard and long. His may have been longer
than mine was, but I was thicker. His balls hung almost as low.

"I will bet you don't wear short shorts often," I said. I reached over and
stroked the tool.

 "Hector says I have a nice steady hand with the camera," Rexford said.

"You like the job?"

'What's not to like. The men aren't pretty, but the sex is hot. I like the
close upshots," he said. "None are as good as your close ups. You are so
ugly; it becomes pure, animal sex. You are smaller than you looked in the
videos, but your cock is bigger." I had continued to stroke him and his
cock continued to grow longer.

"Do I turn you on?" I asked.

He looked me over. "Your videos turned me on," he said. "In person you are
more exciting. Exciting is not the right word, stimulating is more like
it."

"Are you a fucker? You could make some men happy with your tool."

"I haven't done much sexually," he said. "I love to fuck. I've done men and
women. Men are more appreciative," Rexford said. "I've never bottomed."

"I can tell men turn you on more that women.  I bet you feel and extra zing
when you pop into a stud's ass. I noticed you looking at Butch," I
said. "Did you know Butch is a bottom?"

"I didn't," he replied.

"You might give him a try. I'm also sure that when you leave
Ft. Lauderdale, your ass won't be virgin anymore," I said. "I am pretty
sure my cock will be the one to pop your cherry."

"I'm pretty sure you are crazy, but I also think you may be right about
that," Rexford said. "Will it be tonight?"

"Nope, I want you to build up a good head of steam before I fuck you," I
said. "I want you to be desperate." He dropped to his knees. At first, he
just looked, but soon we were both going at it. In the sixty-nine position,
his long dong was easy to take and still breathe.  When I pulled off I
discovered his ball were productive.

Oddly, Rexford thought he was straight. He seemed to think his interest in
man sex was just a little oddity. I was pretty sure it was more than a
passing fancy.

The next morning I was walking toward the beach and some plain clothes cops
grabbed me and took me to a nearby apartment. There I met detective Bob
DeMille. He was Juan's connection in Ft. Lauderdale.

"Juan said you look like something the cat dragged in. I hope you are
Catfish," DeMille said.

"That's me. You are interested in the goings on at the Babington?"

"I sure am. We have our own brand of low-lifes here. Typically, they are a
notch or two up the social scale than Miami's scum. "Your room has a good
view of the motel? We might like to station a man there to keep an eye on
the place."

"I think a camera would be better. Cameras don't need to drink coffee or
take a piss," I said. "You know the motel caters to men with "alternate
lifestyles?"

"We do and the place is fine. We have no problem and if there is a problem
the management handles it," he said. "The camera needs to have an operator
in case there is a malfunction." He then whispered. "We have a man who
would have no problem with the motel clientele at all. He's an undercover
cop, and he is almost as distinctive as you are."

"Would the management have a problem?" I asked.

"The Darlington people don't get along with the Babington people. They have
to hire a guard at night to make sure their guests are safe from the drunks
across the street," DeMille said. "The discovery that the Babington is the
home of a criminal enterprise would close them, down. That would overjoy
the Darlington folks." I went back on my walk and at 3:00 that afternoon a
Hotel linen services truck delivered towels, some electronics and Bert
Giles, the cop, along with a technician, Danny.

Danny was fast and efficient. The cam was up and running in a half hour. He
also had a sound recorder that could pick up conversations from across the
street. Two additional mini cams read license plates. The information was
transmitted wirelessly to the police headquarters.

Burt was unshaven, badly dressed and looked like a man who drank too
much. He was overweight and pale. "DeMille said this was a bear event. Will
I pass?" he asked. "I brought a flannel plaid shirt."

"Baggy swimming trunks and a sunburn seem to be the basic attire here," I
said. "No trunks at all is acceptable too."

Bert raised his massive eyebrows. "This ain't a Sunday School convention?"

"Not at all. By the way the men sometimes sample the appetizers before the
go to the room for the main course," I said. "The manager said he objected
to having sperm on the floors. Are you okay with that?"

"To tell you the truth I am a lot more than just okay with it," Bert
replied. "Are there eaters here?"

"I haven't stepped in anything sticky yet," I said. "I thought you were
here to watch the cam?"

"I check on the camera, I don't watch it," Bert said.  "If there is
something wrong with the cam, Danny will fix it. Danny had no problem with
alternate life styles either.  My real job is to hang around and
listen. I'm the kind of guy who might be good for a $20.00 blow job."

"Blow jobs are still $20.00?"

"For me they are. I don't impress people as a high roller," Bert
explained. "I usually tell them I already shot my wad, but I would give
them some lunch. We talk and I find out lots of stuff that way. I warn them
about the bad people out there, and aim them in a better direction if I
can. Most are young and stupid, or older and very stupid. It's mostly
platonic."

"My relationships are mostly platonic too, except for the sex," I said.
Bert laughed.

"I'm heading to the pool. Would you like to join me?" I asked.

"Sure, do we need a cover story?" he asked.

"You are just an old buddy," I suggested.  "Everyone here is after sex,
that is enough information. Most of the men are in the closet and they
don't ask questions." We went to the pool.

We sat with Butch, Rexford and a man named Tony. No one asked any personal
questions.

"You are over dressed, Bert," Tony said.

"I just ran into my pal and he offered me a room.  I didn't come prepared
for a stay at a resort," Bert said. "Is there a dress code?"

"Shit no," Tony replied as he stripped off his trunks exposing a nice cock
and no tan line. Tony was a well-preserved 65 or so.

"If that's the case, I am prepared!" Bert said. He stripped off his shirt
and then his shorts and boxers. I am a hairy man, but I felt like Justin
Bieber next to Bert. He had oversized balls and a standard issue cock. Bert
was more muscular than I had guessed. His ugly clothes disguised that fact
well.

We were in a shady corner of the pool. Rexford was wearing a Speedo that
left nothing to the imagination. Butch took off his baggy swimming
trunks. I stripped too.

"Damn, Catfish, I had forgotten how pretty you are!" Bert exclaimed. "You
always had that young virgin running through the wildflowers look to you!"
The other men laughed. Ten minutes later Bert was one of the gang.

Bert was also one of those men who could join in a conversation
effortlessly and he reminded you of someone you used to know.  He seemed
innocuous and bland. He was a human vacuum cleaner for
information. Somehow, he seemed to collect a nearly complete biography of
the men we were with as we talked.

He also exuded a little boy in a candy store sexually. He was clearly
interested in each man sexually. They all knew he was interested and
willing. After a while, he said he was going to take a look at the
neighborhood and see what it was like.

Hector sought me out. He wanted to make another movie.  His new epic was to
be titled "Who is that Masked Man?" I wasn't interested.

I had a pleasant afternoon and we to dinner with several of the bears. That
turned out to be a set up.  The men were nice and easy to get along with,
but all wanted to be the co-stars in the Masked Man video. I still said no,
but I had a feeling they knew me better that I knew myself.

I had a call from Juan on my cell phone. The Ft. Lauderdale police had
access to facial recognition software and the cam in my bedroom was
yielding results. Most of the hits were of minor league players, but the
Babington was a major meeting place for underworld types. Juan and DeMille
were waiting to catch bigger fish before they moved in.

I was tired and went to bed early. I woke by a call at 3:00 in the morning.
The cam had malfunctioned, and Danny was on the way. There was a gentle
knocking at the door. I looked through the peephole. I was Danny. I let in
in. "Keep the lights off, I have night vision goggles. We don't want anyone
to know there is activity here.  He quickly removed the old camera and
replaced it with a new one. He called in and headquarters said it was
working. I forgot I was naked. Danny did not seem to notice until the new
cam was in place.

"Damn, one of the guys said you were hung like Godzilla. Shit it's big!" he
said. I grabbed a towel to cover up.

"Don't do that on my account, I like the view," he whispered. "What in hell
do you do with it? It looks like it's too big for everyday use."

"I do the usual thing a guy does with his cock." I said. "It's big, but
some men are willing to make room for it."

"Do they come back for more?" Danny asked.

"They sure do!"  I replied.

"I've got big one and I seem to hurt my playmates," he said.

"Let me guess, you like quickies in a park or rest stop?"

"How did you know?" he asked.

"I was a stab in the dark," I replied. "Why don't you get naked and let
Uncle Catfish give you a lesson?"

Danny was willing. He had a thick, seven plus cock and a nice mushroom. I
told him lubricate his cock and to lie on the bed. I straddled him and did
a little hula dance as I sort of corkscrewed myself on to his cock. I had a
little more than two more inches to go when he tensed up and I could feel
his semen tickling my ass.

He started to buck, but I held him down. I wanted all of the sexual energy
concentrated on is cock, not wasted on random body twitches. It is rare
when you can feel the spooge flooding your ass. It was good. I continued to
massage his cock.

"Pull off, it's too tender!" he cried. I pulled off part way and then sat
back again. I knew his cock head was tender and my ass would do a job on
him. Fifteen minutes later, he was straddling my cock.  He did real well.

"I can't breathe!" he whispered.

"No one has died on it yet," I said. He was still bouncing on it a half
hour later and he shot off again. The door opened and closed quickly. It
was Bert.

"I see you boys have hit it off," he said.

"Danny just shot off on me. I need to shower before it dries. It's a bitch
to get out of my chest hair," I said.

"I can help you with that," Bert said as he bent over to lick it up. Bert
looked slovenly, but he was both efficient and thorough in his
cleaning. Danny got up, showered and left. Bert finished his cleaning
duties and went to sleep.  It was almost seven. I went down to breakfast.
The Darlington normally provided a continental breakfast. The bears had
paid extra for a real breakfast.

I ate with Buster, Pete and Rexford.  They told me that Hector had been
recruiting playmates for his Masked Man video. Pete and Ed liked the masked
aspect of the video. I guess you could say they were timid exhibitionists.
They wanted to be naked and showing off, but they did not want to lose
their jobs. They were planning some auditions to see who could perform in
front of a camera, and they wanted me to do some trial pokes to see who
could take my cock.

They said Hector and Lefty had found some younger men across the street who
were interested. Hector wanted some variety in the man meat. I was more
interested in the auditions than I should have been, but I was resisting
pretty well until I heard about the boys from the Babington. I had
discovered years earlier that my cock could serve as a truth potion when
wedged in a tight ass. Truth potion is not quite the right description. It
is hard for a man to be discrete and circumspect when I was fucking them to
the moon and back.

I doubted that any of the higher-ranking men in the organization would want
to be in the Masked Man epic. I guessed there were a slew of horny rent
boys who would be willing. Having been in a porn video might increase their
hourly rates. These guys would hear things and see people. Some might brag
about the men they see.

Some might recognize me, but frankly, few men look at my face. I would be
wearing a mask and I decided to add a few temporary tattoos to alter my
appearance. I assumed Hector would like that too.

Hector asked me to his room to talk. "I guess you know what I want. Your
videos have been a gold mine. The Masked Man video is to be an orgy. It
will begin as oral explorations and then transition to mostly anal. It will
take place at a bear gathering, and there will be special guests. Now you
can tell me that you aren't interested in an orgy, but you and I know that
isn't true," he said.

"Now, I am checking out the guys. Everyone will be tested and safe. You
know I like my men scruffy, but everyone will be showered and scrubbed,"
Hector continued. "Each actor will need to display some ability as a
bottom. I know some men have bigger mouths than ass holes. Lefty, Tank and
I will open them wide and see how they react." Tank was a massive,
missing-link type with a cock shaped like an oversized butt plug.

"Are you interested?" he asked.

"I shouldn't be, but I am. You know I am not into pain. I'm not much into
young guys either," I said.

"In this case Art imitates Life. Our bear friends are plain ol' sex crazed
guys. There are having fun; they don't need to be forced to do this. All
are volunteers. I will have some young studs there, but no one under
twenty-five. One or two look younger, but I have checked their
identification and they are real," Hector said.

"Can I help with the auditions?" I asked. Hector smiled.