Date: Sun, 11 Aug 2019 21:56:19 -0400
From: Bob <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Catfish Has a Death in the Family 6

Catfish Has a Death in the Family 6

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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I was right about the next week being busy. Fraud, involuntary servitude
and murder covered a broad range of crimes, local, state and federal. I
went off the next day to meet with Gilbert and Bonnie. Monica told me
Gilbert was called out of town unexpectedly.  Phil Dorchester came over.
The arrangements for the unexpected trip had been e-mailed to the office by
accident.  He gave me a copy. He also had some photos of recent visitors.

They were headed to Miami. I assumed this was to be closer to a Caribbean
island with no extradition treaty. I had my laptop with me so sent the
information to the sheriff and my office. My office had informal
connections to the state police. It would end up with the FBI.

Strange things happen in small towns.  The Sheriff's wife was Skeeter's
sister. His interest in cars was obsessive and the idea of making an error
with the brakes unthinkable.

I returned to the motel and talked with Juan. He told me that the "owners"
of Hill Top Farm had left town during the night.  There was an unexpected
death in the family. I suspected they might have left due to an anticipated
death, their own.

Real Estate scams were one thing, smuggling immigrants into the country and
involuntary servitude are another. It was time for the upper tier of the
criminal organization to get rid of the evidence. Later, we realized that
no one had anticipated having problem in rural Virginia. It was a backwater
and it seemed the local police would be more interested in traffic tickets
and domestic fights than smuggling. Modern communications, television and
the internet provide information on big time crime. The FBI and the State
Police were in charge, so my efforts were minor in comparison.

I was at the motel just picking up details, when a man knocked on the
door. He was a tall skinny guy who introduced himself as Skeeter Junior,
the son of the car mechanic. The police hadn't released the information
exonerating Skeeter and he was going crazy with worry. The police thought
they had a better chance of catching the guy who sabotage the car, the
crooks thought thee had gotten away with it.

I told him what I knew. Skeeter was still worried. He was afraid the police
were after the big boys and might skip the foot soldiers. I told him I
would check on things and see what I could find out. Tht seemed to satisfy
him and he left.

A little more than an hour later, Skeeter Senior was at my door. He looked
horrible and was a nervous wreck. Skeeter Sr. was not exactly male model
material and looking worse than usual was difficult.  I said I would look
in to it, but I was pretty sure he would not be involved. He looked
relived. We talked and I found out he was one of my Uncle Jake's
friends. He asked me if I knew him well.

I told him that Jake was almost a father to me after my Dad died. Skeeter
said he saw Jake quite a bit when he visited my mother. "He told her he was
going to drive home, but he usually stayed at a motel. He didn't want to
bother her. I dropped in to keep him company. He was fun to be with," he
explained.

"Sometimes it was a lot more than just fun for me," I said.

"Are we talking about the same thing?" he asked in a whisper. "He taught me
a lot of ways to have fun."

"I think so," I replied.

"Is your cock as big as his?" Skeeter asked in a whisper. "He was the
biggest guy I ever took."

"Did it hurt?" I asked.

"It stretched me some, but he was really good, gentle and nice," he
replied.  "I'm not exactly movie star material. Most guys don't think I'm a
catch."

"Jake thought I was bigger than he was," I said. `I don't measure, but most
men think I'm big."

Skeeter was undressing by then, so I undressed too.  I thought Skeeter was
tall and scrawny. He did a lot of physical work, so he was thin and
muscular. He had a hairy chest and a wide treasure trail to his cock. His
cock was thin, long and his big balls hung low.

"Could you take your time? It's been a while," he asked.

For the first time as my cock pushed deeper into his ass, he thought I was
using his ass as memory lane. My cock seemed to remind him of Jake's
tool. I think that must have been mostly a mind trick, but it worked for
him. I also realized that if it worked for my playmate, it worked for me. I
understood Skeeter.  I had always been the runt of a liter of one.

There was more to Skeeter than met the eye. He loved a cock in his ass and
didn't care who knew it. My cock felt his enjoyment and the feeling spread
throughout my body. It was a joy for me. Some of that was the nostalgic
feeling remembering the redneck asses I fucked when I was younger. It
brought back memories of Uncle Jake and his pals. It was also nice to have
a purely sexual fuck without asking questions about a case.

There was a knock on the door. It was Father Julio and Juan. I told them I
was busy.

"We wouldn't mind being busy with you," he said. I asked Skeeter if he
liked group play. He said he wasn't sure, but he guessed he would be fine
with it. I asked Julio and Juan in. They looked at Skeeter.

"You guys are over dressed," I said. As soon as Julio as nude, Skeeter went
to him and began sucking him.

"Are all your friends this shy," Julio asked.

"Let's just say my friends know how to make new guys feel welcome," I said
as I went to Juan. He dropped to his knees and began to suck me. Skeeter
was the perfect man to suck an uneasy man like Father Julio. He clearly
liked Julio's cock, but he was a casual and skilled cocksucker. Julio
didn't need to do anything except stay hard and shoot off.

"I'm getting close," Julio said.

"Does your pal want to take it?" Skeeter asked. "I'd be glad to do the
honors otherwise." Julio shot off before he could reply. Skeeter had a warm
spot for spurting cocks and he made Julio feel like he won an Olympic medal
as he tenderly slurped up his cum.  I looked at Julio's face. They broke
apart and kissed. Julio seemed to like the cum flavored kiss. Julio's
change in attitude surprised me, but when Juan kissed me, I noticed the
taste of wine. They weren't drunk, but they were mellow and happy.

After the first round of cock sucking, we talked. Juan had some information
on the exit of the farm's owners. They had told the office staff to take
the day off. That was a mistake. The owners didn't know where all the
records were kept.  They were just figure heads for the real corporate
owner. Juan thought they were just small-time thugs who were to be the fall
guys.

The Feds thought the case was like the pieces of four of five unrelated
puzzles mixed together. They discovered one of the emails and a password
that was not erased were the key to the entire operation.

It turns out that even small-time petty criminals have a strong survival
instinct. They didn't like the thugs who carried out Mrs. Williams'
accident. They were concerned that accidents were in their future. Their
only role in financial records was to forward them to the main office in
Dallas. The local help was expendable.

When the owners left, the cops arrived the police got close to 100%
cooperation for the staff they left behind. The information in the files
was good, but the email addresses took the FBI into the heart of the
corporations.

The talk was good, but I had two six packs in the mini fridge in the
room. With four naked gay men more sex was an obvious option.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm still horny as hell. Can anyone help
me out?" Skeeter asked. Julio was sitting next to him. Both Julio and Juan
seemed to have relaxed. Julio discovered Juan's cock and that as a
success. It wasn't just cock sucking, it was tender and loving. Both
Skeeter and I saw affection, and that affection grew as both men
surrendered to the overwhelming emotion.

Skeeter and I went at it and that turned into something different. I don't
think it was exactly love, but we were definatly like spirits. We were 100%
compatible. It was a good night for all four of us.

I talked to Buddy the next morning. The Farmers' telegraph was in full
working order and he had lots of information. There had been raids at
several farms and records were found, but the people running the places
were gone.

It was a mess. There was no one to order feed for the chickens, pigs and
other livestock. No one to pay the bills for electricity and water. The out
of state corporate staff took off too, some fled to Caribbean islands
without extradition treaties. Some just vanished.

Buddy told me there were contracts with suppliers and for chicken and pork,
but no one knew what to do. The courts had to appoint receivers to operate
the farms. Buddy was a well-respected man and good friend of Judge
Wilkins. Wilkins was well versed in farm related problems.

Wilkins was character who affected a down-home persona. He was top of his
class at law school and had years of experience. The authorities consulted
him as to what to do, and he suggested Buddy be put in charge of day to day
operations of the abandoned farms.  Buddy was semi-retired, and Randy could
run the family farm.

I suggested he ask Juan or Julio for help with the Spanish speaking
workers. Buddy thought that was a good idea. He thought Father Julio would
be a calming figure.

The next day the courts took over the control of the abandoned farms. This
was most unusual, but the thousands of chickens, pigs and cows couldn't
wait for a lengthy legal process. Judge Wilkins explained that the animals
couldn't wait months for food and care.  There had also been a spike in
food prices that caused alarm.

All of that was good, but I was interested in finding the men who sabotaged
Mrs. William's car. The Feds and the State were after the big boys; there
was a chance the small fry would be ignored. I decided to visit Phil
Dorchester and Monica.  I wanted to know if there were any unusual visitors
to the office.

They were both excited and uneasy. Gilbert remembered to loot the company
bank accounts as he left. Phil and Monica were unemployed and cash
strapped. I hoped that the cloud hanging over Phil's head lifted with his
cooperation with the police. They had been more than helpful. I said I
would call my Richmond connections and see if they could help.

I asked about unusual visitors. "Gilbert had two types of visitors. He left
the door open for some clients, and closed the door for others," Monica
explained. "I did notice that the closed-door meeting rarely resulted in a
sale."

"Did you get names?" I asked.

"Usually it was with a man with a name like Tom or Fred," Phil said. "We
get contact information on the real estate prospects."

"No other information?"  I asked.

"I photographed them," Monica said. "Gilbert used these photographs in our
promotional literature and the web site. He got mad if I missed a client
who made a major purchase. He said it made the client seem special. I
couldn't tell which was which, so Phil or I took a photo of everyone."

"You saved these photos?" I asked. "Did the Troopers collect the
photographs?"

"I save everything," Monica said. "They asked for the financial and
business records. I didn't give them the promotional stuff. Some of them
aren't very professional. They are more like candid shots."

"Can I see them?" I asked. They were on her computer filed by date.

Davy, a bully in Junior High said that when God passed out imposing stature
and good looks, he shortchanged me. I knew that, but I had no idea at that
time that God gave me a double dose of good luck. Even when I lost my leg,
I realized I could have been shot and killed years earlier.

On the day before Mrs. Williams' accident, Monica had photos of two men who
were not clients and sported an unusual array of scars and tattoos on their
faces. If you were casting for a hit man on a television cop show, they
would have been rejected for being too obvious. Monica transmitted the
photo to the Sheriff, who immediately sent then to the state police and
F.B.I.

By that afternoon the Sheriff knew where the men stayed and ate.  That
included several telephone calls they made to the Bronx. The motel was in
hollow and only had sporadic cell service. One of the old geezers, Ollie,
who hung out at Skeeter's garage recalled seeing them, nearby. This was
around noon, the day before the accident. Ollie spent the morning at the
garage and went to a bar in the afternoon and was unreliable after 4:00
PM. Skeeter only allowed coffee at his establishment, so Ollie was alert in
the morning. The Sheriff was aggressive, and he soon had a timeline of the
suspects movements.

My apartment in Richmond was still being used as the Williams' family
home-away-from-home, so I stayed at the motel and worked on my mother's
estate. I sold my mother's house to the Catholic Church for a dollar. I was
well off and my relatives were all prosperous. I talked with Buddy and
Randy about the rest of the estate.

They said a few family members might need cash, but that might hurt more
than it helped. A few of them were basement dwellers who needed to get a
job and a life other than online. Some help with tuition would be good for
others.

They thought high quality day care was the most important need in the
area. "It's hard to believe it but we need Spanish language day care,"
Buddy said and joked, "When I grew up, we barely spoke English." He went
off to meet with the Judge. Randy stayed to talk.

"Dad is complaining about the workload, but he is having a good time,"
Randy said. "He knows how to run a farm and this stuff is second nature to
him.  He never run a big industrial type farm before, but he knows all the
suppliers and most of the people they sell too.  Dealing with a man who is
honest, and fair is a treat for most of them. I think some of the profits
were due to not paying bills."

"Judge Wilkins knows his stuff?" I asked.

"He is a brilliant and devious man. He uses his good-old-boy mannerisms to
lure city slicker lawyers to their doom. Most of them are on their way home
before they realize what he did to them," Randy explained. "He was the best
man at the Chief Justice's wedding 40 years ago. Wilkins is connected."

I told him that we had a good lead on the men who sabotaged Mrs. Williams'
car. I told him they were based in a Bronx and the New York Police would
deal with them.

"Are you disappointed you aren't in on the kill?" he asked.

"I'm after the results. If they pay for what they did, I'm happy," I
replied.

"I talked with Dad about you last night.  He said he had been in the dumps
when Mom joined that religious freak show. He said he thought his life was
over. You taught him he could still feel pleasure," Randy said. "He knows
I'm gay and he's fine with that. We were both afraid we would discover each
other's secrets.  It was a relief to know we shared the same secrets."

"I didn't know I was that helpful," I said.

"He didn't exactly say it, but I think you fucked him into a good mood,"
Randy said. "You reminded him that he could feel something other than sorry
for himself."  He paused. "I have a pal who could use some of your
therapy. Roddy stayed on the farm with his folks. They died and he's
lost. He's a bit timid and shy. We connected years ago, and it turns out
that I was the high point of his life."

"To tell you the truth, my cock was the high point of his life," he added.
"Roddy watches a lot of gay porn and the big ones turn him on. He thinks
mine is big and would love yours. Dad told me you are too big for him, but
you were nice and got it all in. He loved it. Could you help him out?" I
thought about it a little, but my inability to resist temptation came the
fore.

Roddy knocked on my door at ten the next morning. He had done the morning
chores at the farm, had showered and put-on clean clothes. He looked at me
and said, "I'm Roddy, Randy's friend." I asked him in.

He was a big guy and had a bushy, red beard. "Randy told me that we share
some common interests," I said. "We could talk for a while, or we could get
naked and go at it. I usually like the get naked option. Is that okay with
you?"  He nodded. I had guessed that conversation was not his strong suit.

I began stripping and he did the same. I was sitting on the bed. He came
close and I leaned over to lick his uncut tool. I sucked his foreskin into
my mouth and then worked my tongue into the puckered tip to search out the
cock head. I tasted precum just before I licked the slit.

"I like man juice and cum. Don't hold back, just let nature take its
course," I said. He dropped to his knees and sucked me.

"Damn, it's big," he muttered.

"Too big?" I asked

"I hope not," he replied. Roddy must have had a lantern jaw. He all but
swallowed my entire cock. He was big, timid and shy. I am small, outgoing
and don't have a shy bone in my body. I am experienced, he desperately
wanted to know and do more. Unexpectedly, we were compatible.

I later found out his parents were loving but controlling. No one other
than they were moral enough for their boy. They had lost their first child
due to a rare childhood disease.  They thought it was god's punishment for
something they had done. From Roddy's description, perfect virtue was their
obsession. None of his friends were good enough. They wanted to home school
him, but the school Principal was not the sort of man who would allow that
sort of foolishness.

Ronnie was his best friend, and his father Buddy was a good man and a good
farmer.  He had helped Roddy's father who was not a particularly good
farmer. Thus, Ronnie was acceptable.

Roddy all but merged with me as my cock entered his ass. I think he was a
size queen, but my cock was more than he dreamed of. Apparently, the off
button for his shyness was an inch or so deeper in his ass than his
prostate. My cock head made a glancing blow and Roddy was a different man.

I was just about to shoot off when the phone rang. It was the Sheriff and
he told me the men who sabotaged Mrs. William's were arrested in New
York. He told men that had been very bad boys and decided they might as
well tell the cops everything about the William's accident and every other
thing they had done in their misspent lives. The thugs decided they had a
better chance in witness protection than returning to their mob associates.

I returned to Roddy after the call. "Are you done of could you finish me
off?" he asked. I got his legs on my shoulder and slipped back unto his
needy asshole. I spent the next hour and a half previewing heaven for
him. Maybe heaven uses less sperm and precum than my version, but it was
close enough for Roddy. Every drop of my sperm was in his ass and I had
drained his balls to empty.