Date: Sat, 7 Mar 2009 19:00:43 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Catfish Does Shakespeare 4

Catfish does Shakespeare 4

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, 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.

I'm not sure I've ever fucked a guy as grief therapy, but that comes close
to what I did for Skyler. In some ways he was taking my cock for
Maurice. Skyler was normally a bottom, but he wanted to feel what Maurice
felt. The costume designer was ill at ease when I first entered his ass,
but after five minutes he relaxed and after ten he surrendered and let my
cock work its magic. He was doing a good imitation of a bottom pig by the
time I shot off.

"Breed me!" he whined and whimpered. Breed him I did. I almost expected to
see some of my cock juices spurting from his ears I shot so much. He
climaxed too, so we were stuck together with his cum as glue. I collapsed
on him in post orgasm exhaustion.  My cock was still in his ass and Skyler
was nice enough to squeeze his sphincter to get the last drops from my
balls. This was enough to inspire a few more ejaculations.

I showered and went home.  The next day I got flowers delivered to my
apartment with a note that said thank you. I knew where they came
from. That morning I also got a visit from Detective Dean Willard of the
Richmond police. He was new to the force, and I hadn't met him before.

"Are you the guy they call the Redneck Sherlock Holmes?" he asked.

"Well, they certainly have the Redneck part right."

He laughed. "One of my men said you were hanging around the Midsummer
Night's Dream set. Can I ask you why?  He didn't think it was because you
felt a need to express your artistic nature."

"I'll tell you all, but I prefer to trade information. Do you have anything
worrying you about Maurice's death?"

"Bruises on his neck," Willard said, "Not at all consistent with a fall."

I told him the whole story. It was clear after I finished recounting the
story. Willard was going to be helpful. He had withheld the autopsy report
to give him time to investigate. He didn't want news of the murder to leak
out prematurely.

"The Richmond Police have no ability to go undercover in a theater troop,"
Dean said. "We're good on drug dealers, but no one can mix with artistic
types. I don't know how you got in that group?"

"I'm a flexible guy," I said. "It helps that I'm hung like a horse and open
minded.  Let me guess, you were a linebacker in college, then the Marine
Corp, and a degree in law enforcement?"

"I was a Navy Seal," Dean said. He was built and in good shape, Dean had a
flat top, that concealed a bald spot and a bristly mustache. With blue eyes
and a good tan, the bull like man was impressive. He was born to be a
police man. When I mentioned hung like a horse to took a quick glance at my
basket.  I was wearing old jeans and the wear makes told all.

"You don't think I'd make a good undercover officer?" he asked. Dean
smiled. "I take it the less under covered you are the more popular you
become?"

I laughed. "If you saw my costume for the play you would know all!" After
that interlude we got down to business. He would increase foot patrols in
the area of the theater and would check up in police records the
backgrounds of the people involved. I would keep him aware of any new
developments.

The rest of the day was spent in rehearsals.  Charlie was a stickler for
pronunciation and natural speech. He and the voice person worked with the
actors on being intelligible. I had been use to my High School Shakespeare
as a sing-song like recitation.  We had done Julius Caesar and Macbeth.
The stories were good, but the play itself was partially unintelligible to
me. This was very different. The three groups, the courtiers, the fairies
and the rustics would each have a 45 minutes session with the voice coach
and then practice while the next group met with the voice coach.

I know rehearsals are supposed to be boring, but I thought they were
interesting.  I helped that Freddy was there.  He knew Shakespeare forwards
and backwards and was a one man Cliff notes. He was particularly good about
the off color, or borderline obscene references. "They were to appeal to
the common man," he explained.

"Well they appeal to me too," I said.

"As far as I can tell they appealed to everyone," Freddy said. "I'm pretty
sure Queen Elizabeth laughed as hard as anyone else. I suspect the "appeal
to the common man" was a Victorian interpretation intended to appeal to
that ages fear of sex. Dr. Bowdler revised the plays to hide the "dirty"
parts. He also took the sex out of the Bible, but I've never been sure
anyone used the Bible as a sex manual."

The courtiers were having the most problems, so we had the next day off so
Charlie couls spend the entire day working with them. I got a call from
Bobby Wilmot. He had located Tony Deluka, the director of the ill fated
Hamlet and Gustav Schmidt and was going to have them over for drinks after
a special benefit matinée performance of Guys & Dolls. The benefit was
sponsored by the First Lady of Virginia's favorite charity so the Governor
and First lady were there. I was invited to the party afterward.

The party was posh event. There was a series of post show cocktail parties
where the charity would ask for additional contributions. I was looking
pretty shaggy since I was growing out my beard for the play, but I put my
good suit on and was presentable.  I was introduced to the guests as the
man presenting wall in the Midsummer's Night's Dream. That caused
considerable merriment.

I met Gustav Schmidt at the door.  He was wearing a silk jacket and an
ascot. I got the impression he was doing an imitation of a 1930's era
director. He had a slight English accent, but it was obviously a stage
accent, otherwise he was normal. He didn't strike me as a leader of men.

He asked me about the play. We talked for a while and he seemed to be
genuinely interested and friendly. He told me he missed acting and the
theater. He had a bad spell a few years earlier and had burned his bridges.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I don't know if you can suffer from temporary paranoia, but I had
it. Several things happened all at once and I came to some bad
conclusions," he said.

"How are things now?" I asked.

"Good. I'm working in a job I like and things have straightened out. Re
married too," he said.

"It's hard to rebuild the bridges?"

Gustave nodded. Wilmot came over to me with a friend he wanted me to
meet. A little later I met Tony Deluka.  Short and stocky, he looked more
like a longshoreman than a director. He was from Jersey and you could tell.
He had several followers with him.  He seemed to move with an
entourage. The girls had an adoring look I found unsettling. One of the
boys with him had the same look.

Twenty year olds can be so self absorbed they don't notice the
obvious. Tony must have liked the worship and didn't mind any damage it
might cause when they discovered he had no interest in them. I know a user
when I see one.

After a while I realized he was playing a role.  He was trying for Marlon
Brando. He liked to play the macho type.  He was freely dropping names and
insults. It was clear he was not a forgive and forget man. He was an
energetic and engaging man, if you didn't notice the undertones.  Tony was
particularly nasty about the newspapers theater critic, Milton Hammerly.
Milton was talking to some people well within hearing distance.

The two men seemed to generate an aura of ill feeling. The rest of he party
was cheerful and pleasant, but a cloud hung over them. Wilmot was the
perfect host and he separated the waring parties. "Tony, you need to meet
Sally White. She's new to town and wants to meet the local luminaries," he
said as he steered Tony to the other side of the room.

"No one knows him. They can't appreciate him. He's too talented for
Richmond," one of Tony's young woman said.

"I've got that problem too," I said with a smile.

"You're in the theater?" she asked, obviously skeptical.

"I'm playing the wall in Midsummer's Night's Dream," I said. The girl
looked puzzled.

"Shakespeare?"

"Oh, I don't do old fashioned plays," she said. "Most of my work has been
in experimental theater."

"I was born to play the wall," I said.

"Tony's a real man," she said, returning to her original theme. "There are
so many fags in the theater. Tony says it takes a man to play a man."

"What does it take to play a wall?"

"I don't know, but you're too ugly to be a fag," she said.  "Has anyone
ever told you you sound like Sam Elliot."

"Not recently. Is he from Southside Virginia?" I asked.  The girl didn't
have a sense of humor. She went off to see a friend. I assume she was going
talk about experimental theater. The girl was pretentious, clueless and
totally unaware.  She was the perfect person to be taken in by a man like
Tony.

I talked with one of Tony's boys next. Rufus was 23 and much like the girl.
He wanted a hero and a mentor. He also thought he was straight. After a few
minutes of conversation I suspected other wise. He had heard of Shakespeare
and was interested in the play. I explained the handsome courtiers, dwarf
fairies and hairy, rude mechanicals scheme. That made sense to him. I
described the costumes.

"You're hairy?" Rufus asked. I nodded. "I'm kind of hairy too.  My friends
say it's gross."

"You need better friends," I said. "We all get the cards we're dealt."

"Well, I'm really hairy," Rufus said as he leaned close to me.  We talked
for a while and drank quite a bit. I was sitting on chair when a waiter
tripped and covered me with Shrimp and cocktail sauce. Some splattered on
Rufus. The waiter was apologetic, but I had to get the stuff out of my
hair. I had a feeling horseradish would be hard on my eyes if it dripped
into them.

"Come by for a night cap," I said. "I only live a block away. You can clean
up there if you want." Rufus was willing.  We went in the side door of my
apartment. I live above my offices.  Rufus didn't know I was a detective.

Rufus liked my apartment. As soon as we got in I offered him a beer. Then
we went to the shower to strip and shower. He joined me. My shower is all
ornamental ceramic tile featuring tropical plants and parrots in brilliant
colors. It looks like a Hollywood stars dream bath.  Rufus loved it.  It
told him about the tile man who owned the building and was stuck with the
tile when a client didn't want it.

Rufus seemed like a nice kid, but he had what they call body issues on the
TV programs. He was tall, thin and hairy. He thought he looked like a
scrawny, hairy scarecrow. I pointed out that half the guys in the country
would love to be as slim as he.  He thought he was hairy, but when he saw
me he realized there were much hairier men in the world. I told him I
associated being hairy with being masculine.

"The hair isn't the only masculine thing about you," Rufus said as he
looked at my cock.

I smiled. "You're nicely equipped yourself," I said. "You're a couple
notches above standard issue."

"What is standard issue?" he asked. "I've never known."

"I think six inches hard is the usual rule of thumb. Soft it can be just
about anything."

"What are you?" he asked.

"Somewhere between 9.5" and 10.5" depending on inspiration," I said. "Guys
tell me it's the diameter that is impressive."

"Guys?" Rufus asked.

"100% men," I said, "They seem to appreciate it."

"Oh," he said.  His cock began to firm up. He wanted to be matter of fact
about my sexual inclinations, but his cock had another idea. He looked down
and saw he was getting hard.

"Sorry about that," he said. "I didn't mean to get hard." He was silent for
a little while. "Yours is big now. It must be huge when it's hard?"

"I hate to get it cocked and ready with no where to shoot it," I
said. "You've been drinking. I don't mind getting it up and having some
fun, but I don't like solo performances. Are you into it? Are you into cock
play?"

"I don't know," he said. Rufus looked at his cock again. He was fully
erect. "My cock has a decided preference. I think I drank a little too much
to get my nerve up."

I smiled. Rufus finally let his cock do his thinking for him. He came over
to me and cupped my balls in his hand.  I stroked his cock then dropped to
my knees an sucked him. His cock twitched and I got a glob of cum in my
mouth.

"Calm down," I said, "Hold back." Remarkably he held back. The next time I
licked his knob pre cum oozed from it. All was well. Being in the shower
was good for someone who's trying out man sex for the first time. It was
clean and sanitary.  When I got up to take a breath, he went down to sample
my cock.  That was a successful experiment.  We dried off and went to my
bed.

Rufus was a quick learner and soon became enthusiastic. I'm afraid his
straight days ended the first time his mouth came in contact with another
man's cock. Some guys think of my cock as a curiosity. They like to see it
and perhaps use it, but that is all. Others are all but transfixed by
it. They love it.  Rufus was clearly in the later camp.

He made the virgin to cock hound transition in record time. Fortunately I
found out it was purely a sexual attraction.  He loved it, not me. I wasn't
his type.  Wild sex is easy to deal with, puppy love is much harder. Rufus
was dealing with a sexual storm of emotion. That was good for him and for
me.

Eventually I sat on his cock. I didn't want to fuck him the first
night. That would be too much. He was a solid and thick seven and it was
good for me, but great for him. He played with my cock while I did a little
dance on his meat.

Once his cock was deep in my, Rufus wanted to talk. He was attracted to
Tony but had noticed some unattractive things about him. Tone attracted
followers, but he didn't seem to remain on good terms with them for
long. Tony now was teaching at a large high school and there had been some
sort of a problem with a girl. "Tony said the girl had fantasies, but it
was nasty," Rufus said. "She thought she was star material, but he sent a
bad recommendation for a college.  It kept her from getting into the school
she wanted."

"Those things are confidential, aren't they?"

"Yes, but one of his former student betrayed him," Rufus said. "He says a
man as talented as he is makes enemies. He says he'll get the guy who
screwed him."

"I think I know some talented men who have lots of friends," I remarked.
Rufus was not to happy about that comment, so I wiggled my hips and he
forgot as my warm ass caressed his bloated cock.

"I don't believe this is happening to me," he moaned.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Shit no!" he cried. I had guessed that.

"Is this your first time?" I asked.

"Yes. I don't think I knew you could do this stuff. I thought sex would be
good, but not this good."

"It's bad policy to let the little brain in your cock do you thinking for
you all the time, but once and a while you have to let go. That little
brain in your cock head has it place. Some men can't relax enough to enjoy
sex. You're lucky. You can relax and let your cock be your guide. It opens
up a world of pleasure."

"I can't hold off much longer," Rufus said.

"You don't need to. Just relax and let nature take it's course. I'm close
too."

We made it another five minutes. I was afraid Rufus would get dehydrated by
the time he finished shooting. I think I had 23 years of repressed boy cum
in my ass.  It felt good.