Date: Sun, 14 Aug 2016 15:54:08 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Looks for Loot 3

Catfish Looks for Loot 3
By Bald Hairy Man

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!

Townsend came by that evening to chat. He knew Toby asked me to the fishing
camp. "Toby didn't ask me," he said.

"Am I trespassing on your territory?" I asked.

Townsend laughed. "We don't have that sort of a relationship. We are both
free agents," he said. "I think you showed him some things he didn't
expect. He liked them and wants to try a few more things. I went to the
fishing shack one. It's not my thing. He had some pals come by. They were
defiantly not my type."

"Am I your type?" I asked.

"Not at all, but one part of you really hits the spot," he said. "That
makes me sound like a stuck up jerk, doesn't it?

"Other than living on the same planet, we aren't much alike," I said. "My
good part likes that spot you mentioned."

"I completely lost it when you fucked me the first time," he said, "and
every time since. I told Toby about it. I think he wants to learn more. As
far as I can tell, his pals are game for just about anything."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"You've been incredibly helpful about the Hirsh stuff. I didn't want you to
get into something that is a problem," he said. "You might think I tricked
you."

"It's nice of you to warn me," I said. "I have a confession to make. When
confronted with temptation, I usually dive in with both feet! Toby seemed
like a nice guy to me."

"He is a nice guy. Curious, but not too adventuresome," Townsend said as he
smiled. We talked about the case for a while and he went home. I drove to
Toby's fishing shack the next morning. The fishing camp was rustic but on a
beautiful forested site. The place was nice, but not much if you are the
Architectural Digest type.

He was still showing me around the place when his pals, Bobby and Billy
arrived. We shook hands and talked. After five minutes I felt like I knew
them. They were like the guys I grew up with. Bobby Smith was an
electrician and Billy Drew was a truck driver. They were uncomplicated and
straightforward. It was a hot, humid day we went on a boat trip around the
pond and to a little island. The pond was bigger than I thought it was; the
island was about a hundred feet across and had a rocky beach to one
side. We went skinny dipping.

Toby tended to hold back; Bobby was a sexual spark plug, who was ready to
play. He was an energetic, cheerful man who was a leader of men. He was
tall, with a swimmer's body under a thick coat of reddish-blond hair. Billy
was his friend, stocky and of average height. Toby had encountered Bobby
when he was doing repairs to his house after Toby's wife died. They had
connected.

I was sitting next to Bobby while Toby and Billy were swimming around the
island. "Toby told me you like to mess around some," he whispered to me.

"Actually, I like to mess around a lot," I replied.

Bobby laughed. "Toby told me that too," he added. "I've seen some porn and
there are a lot of things I haven't done yet. I'd like to do more, but we
are in a rut. I've done some blow jobs, and that is it."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Well, things are good and I don't want to mess anything up," he said,
"Especially with Billy. We are old friends."

"You think a new guy could kick things up a notch, and if it doesn't work,
you can go back to the way things were?" I asked. He nodded. At first, I
thought he didn't have much of a cock, but as we talked it grew. I leaned
over and took a lick. He did the same for me. When Toby and Billy came back
from their trip around the pond, the licking had turned into full scale
sucking. They joined in. It was a little like being a teenager and messing
around with your pals.

Billy and Bobby were more adventurous than Toby, but things worked out
well. Bobby took care of Toby. Billy came to me. He sucked me, but we were
soon in the 69 position. He liked that. I really liked it. As soon as his
cock was in my mouth, Billy turn on the precum spigot and the juices began
to flow. He couldn't take my cock, but his thick tool was easy to deep
throat.

Every time I went down on him and then pulled away I suctioned his rich
ball brew into my mouth. It was almost intoxicating.

He took a breather after a while. "Are you ready to shoot?" he asked in a
whisper. "You're oozing a lot of goo."

"It's going to take more work," I said. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all; it turns me on. I'm afraid I'm close," he whispered.

"Don't worry. I know how to handle a spurting cock. Relax and let nature
take its course," I said. He lasted another five minutes, and them he let
go.  Big balls don't always mean big loads, but in Billy's case, I had to
swallow to make room for it all his seed. He could have bottled it and sold
it by the pint.

It turned out that while Bobby had tasted his cum, he had never taken it
fresh from the spigot. I kept on sucking Billy's tool and he had four or
five late ejaculations, each separated by a lull.

Billy had seen men taking cum in porn videos, but he assumed that applied
only to stud muffins. Billy was just an average guy, he thought he was
ugly. He was hairy, with an untrimmed beard and pony tail. I noticed his
beard hid a cleft pallet.

Toby and Johnny took turns sucking me as Billy reloaded. That was okay but
I suggested that we make it more intense. I sat on Billy's cock as Toby
sucked me as Bobby sucked him. It was complicated but worked out. Bobby was
tall, I am small and Toby was shorter and stocky. Toby took a few breaks
and watched Bobby's tool pumping in my ass.

After a little while, I sat on Toby. Bobby was too tall to join in. Billy
had recovered and he fed Toby his cock, and we kissed. I'm usually not much
into kissing, but Toby's thick cock rubbing my prostate seemed to inspire
me. After a while we broke apart and had lunch. We were talking when Toby
remarked that he had been in Petersburg buying antiques and pictures.

"I've got a cousin there. Did you run into a guy named Stapleton Drew?"
Billy asked.

Toby said, "No."

"If you do, keep an eye out. Stapes is a sharp one. He screwed my Mom out
of a lot of money," Billy said.

"What happened?" I asked.

"When my Grandmother died, mom was cleaning out her house. Stapes said he
would help her get rid of the stuff and take it to the dump for
$100.00. Mom was tired and she let him do it. A few weeks later, a neighbor
was in his shop in Petersburg. She saw Grandma's chest of drawers there
with a $6,000.00 price tag on it," Billy said. "Stapes grew up with
Mom. She thought he was a friend. Mom wouldn't call him on it. I did but it
got me nowhere. He's a snake."

"Screwing a stranger is one thing; a relative is another," Toby remarked.

"Stapes always thought he was hot stuff. He had told us he went to college,
and was a "noted authority" on antiques. He took two classes at the local
Community College and watched Antique Roadshow on TV," Billy added. "I met
a guys from Petersburg who said he was a hag fag. He is the sort of guy who
dates wealthy widows. He's a bit swishy."

"He doesn't come for Christmas dinner at your house?" I asked.

"I see him at funerals. I take care of his mom's house outside of Emporia.
I finally got him to put a new roof on the place, it's filled with stuff
and was falling apart," Billy said.

"Antiques?" I asked.

"Maybe, it's old, but I don't know if it is actually antique. I guess it
isn't good enough for the shop in Petersburg," Bill surmised. I wondered if
it was too hot to be displayed. If I wanted to hide valuable art work, a
house outside of Emporia would be ideal.

Of course I wanted to see the house, but Toby was thinking the same way and
he told Billy that he would love to see the stuff. Billy said that
Stapleton didn't want strangers to see the stuff, but he had the key and
didn't give a shit what Stapleton wanted.

We talked a little longer and then went for a second round of sex. Toby
really got into it this time, and Billy was the recipient of his
enthusiasm. Bobby took an enjoyable trip in my ass. My Uncle Jake said all
men like to fuck, but once a man has fucked you, he often feels he should
repay the favor. Most men have a sense of fair play. If they don't, that is
a good thing to know. He also told me what you should never force or
demand. Men are more likely to bottom without the pressure.

I know my cock doesn't always fit and I am careful and never shove it where
it isn't wanted.  I am the opposite of sadomasochist. Pain turns me
off. You might think that a big man like Toby could take it more easily
that and smaller guy like Bobby. I've known some small guys who could take
the Empire State Building shoved into their ass. Some big men have a
problem with a finger. I took my time and waited for something to happen.

I had planned to go back to Richmond that night, but Toby had got Billy
agree to take us to Stapleton's mother's home the next day. I wanted to tag
along, so I spent the night. I slept in a sleeping bag on the screen porch,
it was cool and airy there. I assumed someone would visit during the night,
but I fell asleep and woke up at 7:30 the next morning. We had a good
breakfast and drove to the house.

I was a nice house in the middle of a large overgrown farm. You could tell
the house had been well cared for, but it had fallen on hard times. The new
roof was very evident. It was filled with stuff. Some were real antiques;
some were reproductions. The antiques were better than the stuff in the
Petersburg store, so I assumed they were stolen. We had been there for an
hour when Toby found a stash of paintings.

These were mostly modern paintings, dating from 1900 to 1935. I recognized
several from the photographs of the Hirsh art gallery.  I didn't know any
of the painter's names, but Toby did. He did a double take when he first
saw them and then quickly resumed his poker face. I took some pictures with
my phone.

I did know that none of these paintings would appeal to the Petersburg art
market. I assumed they had no value to Stapleton at all. I also saw some
high quality Civil War stuff and knew it was stolen. I would had sold
easily if it had been legitimate.

Our little group broke up and Toby and I returned to Richmond. I sent the
photos to Townsend.  By the time I reached Richmond, I had a call from the
museum, asking that I meet with the Director.

Townsend, the director and the FBI man were waiting for us as we arrived. I
assumed we would try to buy a few more paintings from Stapleton as we
searched for more information about the rest of the collection.

The senior curators were worried about the condition of the paintings
stored in ramshackle buildings without air conditioning and fire
protection. Townsend figured there might be millions of dollars of art in
the abandoned farm house. I didn't know anything about Kandinsky or Klimt,
but they were big time artists. A lightning strike or a smoker's match
could destroy it all. They needed to get to the safety of the museum.

After hours of conversation, I came up with a scheme. Stapleton only rarely
visited the farm. The FBI would raid it and get the paintings to
safety. Toby and I would return to Petersburg and see what we could find
out before the FBI raided the Petersburg operation. They would keep the
Petersburg store under watch to insure there were no fires or shifting of
artworks.

I thought keeping the museum staff from telling other people about the
operation would be a problem. Keeping the names of potential donors from
other museums was normal for them. A premature leak of information could
cause problems. The staff was all good about the operation. They produced a
cover story that there had been a major leak in one of their storage areas,
so the staff would have to put in overtime to shift the collection to safer
areas. The FBI did its part and used vans marked as plumbers' vehicles.

Billy was pleased as could be to help out. He finally had revenge on
Stapleton. The FBI came with art theft people, who would look at the other
stuff in the house. The house was isolated so none of the neighbors were
aware of the operation. They placed the house under surveillance as they
prepared for the raid. Stapleton visited the farm immediately after
returning to Petersburg and U=Haul truck drove up right behind him. The
truck had New York plates. They unloaded a collection of antiques and left.

It took less than an hour to find out a New York antique gallery suspected
of fencing stolen items had rented the truck. That was pure gravy for the
FBI.

On Tuesday I went to the Petersburg store and met Stapleton Drew. He was a
classic small-town hot shot. Eubank had told him I was looking for the good
stuff. That didn't prevent him from trying to pawn off some reproductions
on me. This included an improbable sword worn by Stonewall Jackson. I think
Stonewall owned as many swords as there are pieces of the true cross.

I told him it was a fake, and I wanted to see the real stuff. I pulled out
a wad of money. He took me to a cabinet in the rear office. Next to the
cabinet was Monet Water Lilly painting.

"Is that real?" I asked as I pointed to the painting.

He laughed. "Do you think a real one would be on the wall of a store in
Petersburg? It is a fake, but it's kind of pretty, so I hung it on the
wall," he explained.

"It is pretty, even if it is a fake. What would you take for it? it would
look good over me couch," I asked. He hemmed and hawed saying he really
like the painting, and we settled on "$500.00. I also bought a mostly
original musket for $1,500.00. I called the museum from the car and told
them what I found.  They told me to bring it in immediately. I figured it
was worth few million.

I felt odd having something that valuable in the back seat of my car. I was
about halfway home when two State Troopers appeared to escort me to the
museum. Townsend told me the painting might be worth thirty to forty
million. I was glad I didn't know that when I was driving on I-95.

I told the FBI that I doubted that Stapleton had a clue as to the value of
the paintings; he didn't know they were originals. He thought they were
copies. As far as I could tell he sold genuine antiques or Civil- War
memorabilia more by accident than by choice.

The State and Petersburg police had quite a bit of information on
Stapleton. He was a low level fence, but he had connections to bigger
operators. The Store had been owned by his bachelor uncle who left it to
Stapleton when he died. The Uncle had been legitimate, but Stapleton got
into trouble as soon as he inherited the store.

He had found a way to avoid arrest, by sending locally stolen items to
out-of-state stores and accepting their stolen stuff.  Most of the stuff
was only moderately expensive. Usually police don't exchange information on
small ticket robberies. Stapleton's store exchanged goods with a store in
Georgia, and one in Tennessee.

The biggest bit of new information related to the U-Haul truck. The Royal
Galleries in New York rented the truck. I had never heard of them. New York
Police suspected them of fencing stolen items. The only connection they had
to the big galleries or auction houses was the pretention. Many of their
paintings were copies or by minor artists. Templeton said they sold a minor
work by a major artist once and a while.

The connection to a small gallery in Petersburg was a revelation the stolen
art people in New York. Sending suspect works to minor galleries in out of
the way places would be a good way to hide the works. Perhaps they were
just parked in the local galleries.

The FBI was planning to raid the Petersburg and New York galleries
simultaneously. I had no role in that, but asked if I could help Eubank and
Jerry. The FBI said Eubank would a good source of information. Jerry was of
no interest if the looted drawings were returned.

Toby and I went to see Jerry a half-hour after the raid. I told Jerry about
the stolen property problem. He looked scared.

"You are not in trouble. There was no way to know you had stolen goods," I
said. "You are fine."

"Do you want the money back you paid for the drawing?" he asked Toby.

"A deal is a deal. I'll pay you what you paid Eubank for the rest of the
drawings, and you will be free and clear," Toby said.

That was fine for Jerry so we returned with the rest of the drawings. Jerry
had some he hadn't framed. Framing was too expensive for him. We returned
to Richmond. With the delivery of Jerry's drawings to the museum, my work
was done. The main work was now in New York and in Europe.

A week later I had a call from the museum asking me to come to a
meeting. As usual, Toby, Townsend, and the FBI were there, along with the
museum senior staff. Toby and my work in Petersburg had been notably
successful. We were non-standard art collectors and no one had
guessed. They were interested in an antique store in Charlotte and wanted
to know if we would check it out.

Much to my surprise Toby was really into it. He liked the cloak and dagger
stuff. He admitted to me that playing a redneck art collector was not much
of a stretch. A week later we were in Charlotte with adjoining rooms. I had
gone to the Old Carolina Gallery looking for Confederate memorabilia, and
had hinted that I worked for a big time collector who liked his privacy.

They knew what that meant and after I bought a belt buckle for $750.00
cash, they were interested in cash deals. I mentioned by collector liked
art. They asked how long I would be in town and I told them for a day or
two, and the dealer, a guy named Beau Ranson, might have a little private
showing on Sunday. I made a call and Toby said could make it. Of course he
was already in Charlotte.

When I got back to the hotel I found out Toby had brought Billy and Jimmy
with him. Toby had fifteen thousand dollars with him and he didn't want it
left alone.  Billy stood watch and had room service as we had dinner and
returned to the rooms to plan for the next day. That was the plan, but Toby
had other plans for us.

Since or visit to his fishing camp, Toby had been considering expanding his
sexual repertoire. Billy had told him that he was interested too. He
recruited Jimmy.