Date: Fri, 26 Aug 2016 07:07:52 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Looks for Loot 4

Catfish Looks for Loot 4
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!

My plan for a fun filled night ended when Townsend sent us photographs of
stolen art. I spent the evening looking at the photos with Toby. I went to
bed around 11:00, alone. When I woke the next morning Billy was in bed with
me. He was on his side with his back to me. I felt him out and found that
he was hard and he had lubricated his ass.

He jumped a little when my knob touched his ass, but I took my time, slowly
easing my cock into him. I gently massaged his hole, gradually going
deeper. I popped his sphincter, and then moved towards his prostate. Billy
and I both knew when my knob rubbed his little nut. His prostate had been
underused and was very needy. I'm not sure he knew what it was or what it
could do.

I think Billy may have had the fastest conversion from being an ass virgin
to a bottom slut I had ever run into. Usually a guy's first anal experience
is difficult. They get into it after a few more times.  Billy loved it from
the start. I could feel him quivering in excitement as I rubbed his
prostate. Excitement is hard to control and I suddenly realized I was
nearing an orgasm.

"Have you ever had a sperm bath in your ass?" I asked.

"Fill me up!" Billy cried. I pulled away leaving only my cock head in
him. When I popped I pushed deeper into him, coating his entire ass with my
sperm. As we screwed, Toby watched. When I pulled out, he took my place. I
played with Toby's tits as he massaged Billy's ass.

By then, Bobby was awake and served as a cheer leader, not that Toby needed
any additional encouragement. Toby shot off and Bobby took his place.

Both Toby and I are thick, so Billy's ass was a bit dilated. Bobby's tool
was long and thin. Billy took it easily. It slid into the cum-slicked ass
effortlessly.  It didn't take long for Bobby to add his seed to the sexual
soup in Billy's ass.

"Are you okay, Billy?" Toby asked.

"Sure, I feel great," he replied, "It was good."

"I didn't know you were into that," Toby remarked.

"To tell you the truth. I didn't know that either," Billy said. "It wasn't
what I expected." We broke apart, had breakfast and got down to work.

The Antique Store-Art Gallery was distinctly more upscale than the
Petersburg operation and the staff more knowledgeable. I think they were
careful about new clients, but Toby was a perfect redneck with more money
than he could deal with.  There was a young bearded, man and an officious
woman who I thought had a background in art history and collecting.

More substantial sales were directly handled by the boss, Beau Ransom. He
was an older, handsome, clean-cut man with a good tan. He took Toby in tow
and the young bearded man looked after me. I told him I was into western
stuff and Civil War memorabilia. I knew he wasn't interested, but he was
polite and showed me what he had. He introduced himself as Derrick, and
said he was a trainee in the business. He was also in charge of dusting. He
showed me a bronze sculpture by Frederic Remington. Much to my surprise he
told me it was a later re-casting, not one of the early castings. It was a
good quality, and well finished. "It's about as good as you can get without
it being one of the casts done in Remington's life time," he said.

I was shocked he was telling me the truth, and not passing it off as a more
valuable sculpture. He also had some semi-Remington's. They were in the
style of the artist. Derrick then showed me some prints in the style of
better known artists. He was on commission, so he was only paid when he
sold something.

While being paid on commission can be good when you have a big sale. It is
bad when your boss takes all the good clients.  I assumed Derrick was
unhappy. Unhappy employees are God's gifts to investigators.

Toby and Beau were getting along well. They went off with the female clerk
to have a drink. I assumed being a little drunk was good for sales. I was
alone with Derrick. The store was closed since it was Sunday. Derrick and I
were getting along well.

"I'm afraid these "let's have a drink" sessions tend to last for an hour or
two," Derrick said.

"Damn, I wasn't invited," I said.

"Beau likes his clients to be alone, with no advisors," Derrick replied. It
was warm since Beau had switched off the air-conditioning as he left. I
couldn't tell if that was just an automatic reaction when he left the shop,
or of he was making sure Derrick knew his place.

It was the later. Beau had worked for the business for years and bought the
business when the original owner retired. He had a lot of experience but no
academic qualifications. Derrick was a PhD candidate at UNC, but he had no
experience. Beau liked to keep people in their place.

Derrick took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. I noticed he wore a
rainbow necklace. "I don't have anything to drink. I live in the attic and
I can get you a cup of coffee," he said.  I said that sounded good. The
apartment was a bit run down, but Derrick owned good furniture and he had
some skills as a decorator. There were several male nude drawings on the
wall.

"Do you draw?" I asked.

"No, these were drawn by a friend of mine Scott. He has moved to New York,"
Derrick said. From the way he said that I knew they were more than
friends. "He had a small show there. They sold like hotcakes," Derrick
explained. "Nothing sold here."

"Maybe you should follow him there?" I suggested.

"I'm thinking about that, but I have no experience. I was hoping to get
some here, but Beau is a one-man band. He doesn't want to share any of the
expertise of profits," Derrick said.

"What do you do at the gallery?" I asked.

"Essentially I am eye candy for wealthy widows, or old fags," he said. "He
gets more credibility if he has "associates."

"Am I an old fag?" I asked.

"I hadn't even thought of you that way," he said. "You are older."

"You like younger guys?" I asked.

He nodded. "With Scott away, I don't do much of anything."

"There seems to be a lot of young guys in this town," I said.

"They don't seem to be interested in a guy who is working on his PhD in Art
History," Derrick said. "What is your interest?"

"To be absolutely straight with you, I like sex with men, preferably
size-queen bottoms," I said.

"Scott is well endowed and a top," he replied.

"Does that make you a bottom?" I asked.

"They say it is not how big it is, but how you make it big," he
replied. "I've never been with an old guy." I noticed there was a
meaningful bulge in his dress trousers. I felt a little tingle in my cock
and saw that I was getting hard too.

Derrick reached down to adjust his pants. He decided to rub it instead. "Is
it really big?"  he asked.

"Why don't we just forget the preliminaries and get down to business," I
said as I unzipped. He was willing. We undressed.

"Shit, you are hairy," he remarked. When I dropped my pants he saw my pants
he saw my cock. "Damn, it is big," he added.

"Interested?" I asked.

"I like them big, but that may be too big," he answered. "You aren't really
my type. Scotty's not as big but he's not as .  .  ." He was embarrassed
that he almost something rude.

I let him off the hook. "Old?" I suggested. Derrick looked relieved. I
added, "You might feel some new things, some really good things."

"It looks as if it would hurt," he said.

"I'm not into pain at all. I can pull out if it becomes a problem. You are
curious?" I asked. He nodded. "Do you have some lube handy? What position
works best for you?"

"On my back with my legs on your shoulders. What if Scotty found out?" he
asked. Derrick wanted my cock; he just didn't want to say it directly.

"Who is going to tell him?" I said. "I don't need to shoot off in you, if
that will make you feel better."

"Do you shoot a big load.?" he asked. I nodded.

"I kind of like it squirting in my ass," he said.

"Have you shot off hands free?" I asked.

"No, I usually jerk-off afterward," he replied.

"Well, I would be glad to suck you off and swallow your cream, if you would
like that," I offered. "Does Scotty eat your load?"

"No one has ever taken my sperm in his mouth. I think I would like that,"
Derrick said. With that comment, Derrick went to a dresser and took out a
tube of lubricant, and a small bottle of poppers. "Do you mind if I use
poppers?" he asked.

"Not a problem, whatever helps you to open up," I said. I think that
Derrick underestimated his sexual experience. I took my time and while it
was a tight fit, my cock did everything a cock can do in an ass. I am not
sure he realized he was a size queen.

It turned out that Scott was a man rammer, and my gentler approach gave him
an opportunity to savor the experience. After about ten minutes of
thrusting, he had a hands-free orgasm. I pulled out and sucked up
three-quarters of his man seed.  That drove him crazy.

"Have you cum in me?" he asked.

"Not yet," I replied.

"Fill me up, please!  I want it," he cried. I did as he asked. He was
completely open for my second penetration. It was so good I shot off
quickly; he had a second hands-free orgasm. I left my cock in him for a
while. Every time I began to go soft, he squeezed my cock with his
sphincter to keep me hard.

We cleaned up and waited for Toby and Beau to come back. "I wonder if Beau
took him to the special warehouse," Derrick mused.

"What is the special warehouse?" I asked.

Derrick looked uneasy. "We're not supposed to mention it.  I've never been
there, but I assume it had the high dollar stuff," he said. "It's so secret
I wonder if it has some questionable art?"

"Is that same as art with questionable provenance?" I asked.

"I don't know that; I've never been there, but I do know that everything
there is sold for cash," Derrick said. "Usually cash is untraceable." I
wanted to know more, but Toby and Beau returned. Toby seemed slightly tipsy
and they seemed to be talking as friends. Toby asked if he could come back
for a closer look. That was fine for Beau who said he would look for other
works of interest in the back room.

We returned to Richmond, leaving Bobby and Billy in South Hill. I went to a
meeting at the museum the next afternoon. Finding art stolen by the Nazis
was a major quest in Europe. Once we provided a new clue, the Europeans
were off to the races.  The current owners of the Koenig Gallery in Germany
had not been involved in the post war sales. They open their records which
were detailed and complete. There were sales to a gallery in New York.

Townsend explained that after the Nazi defeat, there thousands of artworks
floating around Europe. Some was stolen or extorted, owners had died and
left their homes abandoned and looted. There were thousands of families
selling artworks to buy food, or passage to a safe place. there was no way
to know what was legitimately sold or was looted.

The Hirsh collection was more suspect than most. The Hirsh family had
stamped the back of painting with a catalogue number, and the Nazis had
added a swastika emblem to the rear. Any legitimate collector would see
there were problems. For an unethical collector, the marking would give him
a way to get a better price for the works. There were three large lots sold
by the German gallery to the Hudson Gallery in New York.

The Hudson Galleries were an old and established shop, but it was in
decline by 1945 and out of business in 1957," Townsend said. "The Royal
Galleries bought the former Hudson properties at the time. This included
the gallery and two warehouses. I wonder if they found the remains of the
Hirsh collection in one of the warehouses."

"The Hudson Galleries were a step down the social ladder from Sotheby's or
Christie's. The Royal Gallery is three or four steps lower on the scale,"
Townsend explained.  "They provided paintings for galleries in smaller
cities, where they might find less discerning collectors."

"Well there is the swastika stamp on the paintings," I said. "That would
raise a red flag."

"I assume that is why the paintings are in Petersburg," Townsend
remarked. "Fewer people would notice. I assume most are looking for
something to hang over the sofa. They don't expect a masterpiece."

"I am wondering if Petersburg was just a safe place to park artworks until
the heat was off," I suggested. That seemed like a rational explanation.

I drove to Charlotte the next day to meet with Toby for his next visit to
the gallery. Driving through Petersburg, I decided to see how Jerry was
doing. When I knocked on the door, Eubank greeted me. He was unemployed now
and was bunking with Jerry. Jerry was making lunch in the kitchen. Eubank
went upstairs and I chatted with Jerry. He said Eubank was depressed about
losing his job. It hadn't been a good job, but it was easy and provided
some cash.

"He lucky he's not in jail. Fencing stolen art is a crime. Some of that
stuff was valuable, he could have done hard time," I said.

Jerry said that the only thing that seemed to cheer him up was sex.

"I kind of thing sex cheers up everyone," I said. Jerry laughed.

"You wouldn't be in to mood to do some cheering up right now, would you?"
Jerry asked.

"I have a little spare time," I said. "Maybe we could fill it up with a
threesome?"

"Eubank and I have never done that," Jerry said. "I wouldn't know what to
do."

I smiled. "As a general rule, if a cock is nearby, suck it," I
explained. Jerry laughed as Eubank enter the room. He had overheard the
conversation and he had a bulging crotch to show his interest.

Let's just say that Jerry and Eubank had no problem dealing with their
first threesome. Jerry got on the bed and Eubank bent over to suck him. He
took a wide stance so his hole was open and clenched and relaxed his
sphincter in invitation. There was lube by the bed so a coated my knob and
touched his pucker. He shivered a little and then relaxed. I pushed a
little and my cockhead slide in.

"Will it all fit?" Jerry asked.

"I'm pretty sure it will," I replied. "Do you mind watching your pal take
my cock?"

 "I'm pretty sure that isn't a problem," Jerry replied, "It's not a problem
at all! Are you going to shoot in him?"

"If you don't mind, I will," I answered. Jerry smiled as the rest of my
cock vanished in Eubank's commodious ass.

I screwed Eubank and Jerry loved watching. He gave new meaning to the
phrase "up close and personal." When I pulled out, Eubank's ass was open
and dilated. You could see my cream quivering in his open ass. Jerry
slipped his cock deep into the hole. He sighed in satisfaction. I have to
admit, the look of pleasure on Jerry's face as Eubank's ass gripped his
cock made me feel good. Jerry made a few thrusts and then gave the ass a
second sperm bath.

My cock is thick and that can be almost overly intense. Jerry's warm man
seed must have been good for Eubank; he popped. This provided a good
opportunity to illustrate the advantages of a threesome. I sucked Eubank's
spewing cock. With Jerry ejaculating in the ass and Eubank doing the same
in my mouth, all was well.

I had to leave taking I-85 toward Charlotte. Toby would be meeting me in
Charlotte with Bobby and Billy. Toby liked sex a lot, but he had arranged
to have dinner with Beau. His objective was to get a chance to look over
the "special warehouse". I also found out that Billy and Bobby had been
held up and wouldn't get to Charlotte until midnight.

I was planning a quiet night of rest, when I ran into Derrick and Scott
waiting to be seated at an Appleby's restaurant. I was obviously alone and
they asked me to join them. Scott had red hair, a matching mustache and a
pale complexion. Ginger fur poked up from his unbuttoned shirt.

He was out going and energetic. Things were going well for him in New
York. Apparently, Derrick had mentioned he had met a redneck at the gallery
and had described me as big. That puzzled Scott. I am short. Scott wasn't
shy and when Derrick went to the men's room, he discovered my big part.

Scott disliked Beau and thought there was something wrong at the gallery. A
couple of the "old masters" did seem to be either old or done by a
master. He also cheated Derrick out of his commissions. He also knew about
the special warehouse. He had never been in it but he knew where it was. He
had a friend who had a studio in a warehouse across the street from the
warehouse. Beau tended to visit the place at odd hours, but the artist
friend had even odder hours. The studio had a big, north window facing the
warehouse, so Scott's artist friend usually knew of Beau's visits.

"My artist pal, Danny, tends to drink more than is good for him, so Beau
isn't worried," Scott explained. After dinner Scott asked if I would like a
drink. I said sure and we went to his artist friend's apartment. I asked if
having a stranger drop in was a problem.

"Let's just say that Danny is not that much into ceremony. It is a 24/7
open house or crash pad, depending on your needs," Scott explained. We
drove to a warehouse area, and to the studio. Danny would have been a
hippy, if he had been 40 years younger. He was short, stocky and
shaggy. Oddly, his paintings were precise, almost photographic, modern
cityscapes. They were pretty views of suburban streets.

We shook hands and knew we would get along. He checked out my equipment as
I entered the studio. My gaydar immediately saw him as a member of the
fraternity. He was a beer and pretzels man, and we had a good
conversation. It did take long to feel the sexual tension in the room. at
first I thought it was Scott and Derrick. They wanted to get home and get
it on. They left, and I realized it was Danny and me creating the
tension. We had another beer and Danny was openly staring at my crotch.

I asked him about the warehouse and we went to the window. Danny wasn't
shy. He bumped into me, and I didn't object. He told me the place was
filled with art and antiques as he put his hand on my ass.

"It's funny, but I think the stuff in there is better that the stuff he has
on display in his gallery," he said.

"How did you get in?" I asked.

"Some guys made a delivery and left the door unlocked," Danny said. "I just
walked over and looked around. I took some pictures if you would like to
see them."

"Sure," I replied. He had downloaded the pictures onto his laptop. We sat
on the couch to looked.

"The pictures are mixed in with some porn. It that a problem?" he
asked. "Gay porn."

"The only thing better than looking at porn is making it," I said.

Danny smiled. "Have you ever done that?" he asked.

"I've been in few videos, nothing for a major studio," I said. "My body
isn't made for the big leagues."

"Did you top?" he asked with obvious interest.

"Have you done porn?" I asked.

"Once, when I was young. Oral only, nothing heavy," he said. "I didn't like
it much, but I find myself thinking about it often,