Date: Tue, 11 Nov 2003 15:19:25 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Catfish Takes a Vacation 4

Catfish Takes a Vacation

Part 4

By Bald Hairy Man

This is a sexual fantasy with no effort made at real life experiences. If
you object to gay fiction, DO NOT READ. This story is not for you. If you
have any comments  send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymen@aol.com.


Boris turned out to be a trip.  He had to be the most willing and eager
bottom I'd ever encountered, with the tightest ass.  As a muscle builder,
he had buns of steel and getting my cock into his love tunnel was hard. It
was a new experience for him and me.

Boris wanted my cock.  He had watched me screw his lover and had been
turned on. His ass just wasn't cooperating. He was tense and excited and
this is a poor recipe for an easy first fuck.  Ivan was helpful. He
lubricated Boris and he did what he could to get the muscle builder to
relax.

The poppers turned out to be the secret weapon.  He took a good and long
snort and his ass parted like the Red Sea.  My cock played Moses and his
prostate turned out to be the Promised Land.  The poppers only lasted for a
short while, but it was enough time for my cock to get deep into his ass.
Then he closed up again.

After all the work it took to fuck him, I have to admit Boris enjoyed it a
lot.  His sphincter clamped shut on my cock, so Boris provided a natural
cock ring.  My meat was trapped in his ass and there was no way I could
lose my erection in his ass' iron grip.  It took him sometime to get use to
the invader, but after a few minutes, the pressure on his internal sex
organs began to work its magic.

When Boris was really getting into it, Ivan touched my shoulder.  "Do you
think I could try it?"  he asked.  I pulled out and let him in.  Boris
tightened up as soon as I withdrew, so Ivan had to force his cock into the
hole.  I gave Boris another sniff and, as before, Ivan's cock slid deep
into Boris' insides.  I had been warming him up and the two men obviously
enjoyed the experience.  Threesomes can be tricky; especially if one of the
three is left out.  I happened to be left out, so it was okay.

Boris and Ivan were alone in a sexual cocoon.  Once they connected, there
was no one else in the room, except for them.  I was just a spectator, and
that was fine with me.  They were lovers who had just reached a new
pinnacle of sexual pleasure.  Ivan had been there before, but Boris was
young and this was the first time he had realized the total impact of
sexual ecstasy.

Suddenly there was cum spurting everywhere.  It was Boris, but when Ivan
saw his lover shoot, he pulled out and climaxed.  When sex is messy, it's
usually good and there was sticky Russian man seed everywhere.  They calmed
down and rested after the orgasms.  Unfortuately, I had to be in my hotel
for the next morning, so Boris had to get dressed and drive me back.  It
had been a good night for all of us.  I had gained on my investigation and
the sex had been good.

I got to walk around the city the next morning.  I had no real idea what
St. Petersburg looked like other than I had guessed Leningrad was drab.  It
hadn't occurred to me you would paint a city in bright colors.  Gold,
yellow, green, red and blue buildings were all over the place.  Not wimpy
pastels, but bright, brilliant colors were everywhere.  The Winter Palace
was Green, with white trim in a gold square.

In Virginia our classical buildings were white or brick, here they were
every color of the rainbow.  Our buildings are also small; everything in
St. Petersburg is huge.  After wandering around the city, I returned to the
hotel and found a message waiting for me from Anatol.  He wanted to meet me
at the baths at 4:00.  I called Ivan and he told me this was normal.  At
the baths, someone could search my clothes and make sure I wasn't wired, or
carrying a weapon.  That information was good for me to know.  I figured I
could put some information confirming my identity in my pockets.

I got to the Central Baths at 3:30 and was in the steam room when Anatol
showed up.  Boris was with him as were two other men I didn't know.  One
was clearly a bodyguard.  Anatol introduced the older man as George and the
other man as Ali.  George was middle height, but very solid.  He was bald,
with a bushy mustache.  His body was as hairy as mine, but the hair was
curly and pitch black.  Ali was tall and thin with a thick, brown beard and
muscular body.  He was moderately hairy.  George's English wasn't very
good, but Ali's was.  He served as a translator.  , which I interpreted as
awe.  I figured we had moved well up the status ladder in St. Petersburg's
underworld.  This was unexpected, since I was small potatoes.  I couldn't
figure out why I deserved an important man. We all talked for a while, then
went to the pool and dove in to cool off.  When we sat in the sauna, naked,
it all became clear to me.

The sauna was empty except for me George and Ali.  Apparently, if you were
important enough you could make a room private.  It took a minute for me to
realize George was a size queen.  Ali talked to me about my business, while
George stared at my cock and all but drooled. George looked like a deer
caught in headlights, transfixed by my cock.

They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.  I don't want to
sound tacky, but I think I've found another way.  I also think a guy might
as well use his assets, so I rearranged my cock to give him a better view.
My cock always responds to attention, either by touch or even by being
looked at, so it firmed up some.  I was talking with Ali, but my cock was
doing all the convincing.

I was at half-staff when George got up and said something to Ali.  Ali came
over to me and said, we would go to the warehouse now.  George had seen
enough and had decided I was all right.  We left the sauna, jumped in the
pool again, dressed, then left the baths in George's car.  It was a huge
Mercedes.

We drove quite a distance into the suburbs of the city, then entered the
courtyard of the building Ali said, was a former monastery.  The place
looked run down to me.  We drove into a stable, then went into a big hall.
It was empty, but to the side a small door led to a stairway into the
basement.  At the bottom of the stairs, we went through another door and
into a huge cellar.  The ceiling was vaulted and the room was fully
air-conditioned.  It was a shock.

Everywhere there were boxes and crates, all lined up in an orderly way.
There were several men and women there who looked quite respectable.  To
one side, there was a brilliantly illuminated area.  There were paintings,
sculptures and art objects there, being worked on by several men and women.
One of the paintings was badly damaged and it was obviously being
conserved.  I saw a number of central American ceramics in various states
of repair.  They led me down an aisle to a series of racks hung with
Czarist portraits.

They all looked great and I guessed they were heavily restored.  We talked
price and then I asked about Mayan artifacts.  George took me to another
part of the huge room.  There were cases there.  He flicked on a light and
it looked like a gallery of Mayan art.  He took a box out and opened it.
Inside were pieces of a broken pot.  He was explaining, he bought fragments
and gave them to his restorers, who would reconstruct the object.  He was
quite excited about this.  George's English got better as we talked.
Apparently his poor English at the baths was a way for him to get to know a
guy.

We talked price and I found his prices were good.  I asked him, how he
could keep the prices so low?  "Good labor is cheap here in Russia!" he
said.  "It would be three or four times the cost if it were done in London
or Paris."

"The objects look great," I said.  "And the price is good too."

"I was a museum curator in Armenia when the Soviet Union dissolved," George
said.  "I lost my job along with a good portion of the staff.  I found
there was a market for art objects, so we set up this business.  We look
for damaged art works, restore them and then sell them.  The provenance for
the objects is obscure, but the quality of the work is first class."  He
had a slight English accent now; he had learned from the BBC.

"They look like museum pieces." I remarked.

"They look museum quality, but most aren't," George said.  "Good. but not
great objects; too much restoration.  Most are very common; I don't get the
first rate things.  They are too hard to sell and impossible for the new
owner to display.  You wouldn't believe what some Arabs are trying to sell!
A well-known object is bad enough, but one illustrated in a standard Art
History textbook is ludicrous.  What in hell can you do with it?"

"Would any of these objects cause problems for my clients?" I asked.

Ali smiled and answered.  "There is a chance, but it's fairly slim.  Most
archaeological objecst were taken from someone.  You can make a good case
they are better treated here than they would be in a attic storage room in
Honduras, or Basra for that matter," he explained.

"We give people a chance to have a work of art that would otherwise be
hidden in closet somewhere." George said.  "Some of our suppliers are
suspect, but we get their lesser objects."

"You're the processor, not the man in the mines?" I asked.

"That's the way I see it.  And Russia is the perfect place for this trade.
Everything here is confused and unclear." Ali said.  "Things disappear and
then appear, maybe thousands of miles away.  Perhaps in Prague, or in a
quiet district of Mexico City."

"Let's go to my house for some refreshment and we can work out some of the
details." George said.  We left the cellar and went into one of the
buildings next to an impressive, onion domed church.  The building was run
down.

Once we were behind the decrepit door, the building was beautifully
preserved and restored.  "This was the Abbots house," Ali explained.  We
went up a winding stair into George's apartment.  It was simply decorated,
almost austere, with comfortable, but sparse furniture.  It was also very
hot.  The temperature was almost tropical.

Ali got drinks and George went to his bedroom and returned in a robe.  The
drinks were ice cold.  "You may need to get more comfortable; you are over
dressed." George said.  Ali had gone off.  When he returned, he was in a
robe, but he hadn't bothered to tie the belt.  He was all but naked.

I began to take off my coat and shirt.  George smiled in approval.  "Anatol
said, you are a very open minded man." he said.  "Friendly too."

"If that means I like sex with men, he's sure right about that!" I said.
"I try to be friendly too, but to tell you the truth, a lot of the
friendliness is just because I like sex a lot and I can't seem to get
enough of it."  George looked like he was a happy man.  I was dropping my
pants by then and George was taking off the robe.  He was half hard.

"I take it, you like big meat?" I said.

George looked worried.  "Does that bother you?"

"If I had a small cock, it might." I said.  "But that's not my problem.  I
ain't much of a looker, but you would be surprised how many men want my
cock.  I assume that includes you."

"That it does, my friend." George replied, as he came over to me and
fondled my cock.  We went into his bedroom.  Ali joined us in the bed.
Ali's cock was fully hard by now and was as long as mine, but was much
thinner.  He was uncut and his mushroom head was drooling precum already.
George's cock was thick and nestled in his dense pubic bush.  He had enough
foreskin for two men.  In my experience most guys fill up the skin
eventually, so I figured there was more cock on the way.

George wasn't into foreplay.  He wanted my cock in his ass and wanted to
feel it right away.  "Ali doesn't suck uncut cock, only circumcised.  I'm
allergic to most lubricants, except saliva. " George said, as he range a
bell.  An incredibly muscular, but short Mongolian entered the room.  He
looked like my vision of Genghis Khan.  With a shaved head and body except
for a ponytail and a Fu Manchu.  He was naked and launched himself at my
cock.

He may have looked like Atilla but he was a master cock sucker.  Ali was
eating out George's ass and George was moaning in appreciation.  I was
pretty excited before the Mongolian started to suck.  Once he started, I
was afraid I would shoot off too fast.  The Mongolian knew his stuff and he
let up whenever I got close.  George cried out, something in Russian, I
assume it was, "I'm ready.  The Mongolian got up and I went to George,
hoisted his legs on my shoulder and placed my cock at his hole.  Ali and
the Mongolian both spit on my cock and I shoved it into George's twitching
ass.

The room was hot as hell and we were all sweating like pigs.  My sweat ran
down my body and joined the spit lube as I pushed.  It's nice to run into a
real, experienced bottom once and a while.  George offered no resistance.
His only reaction at first was a sigh of total satisfaction once my entire
cock was lodged in his ass.

I rested and let him get use to my cock then began pumping.  I would pull
almost all of the way out, then slide in slowly.  Each time I did this,
George would get a little but more excited and demonstrative.  I felt for
his cock; it was rock hard, but still enshrouded in his copious foreskin.
It was thick and massive.  Ali and the Mongolian watched with increasing
excitement.

The Mongolian bent over the bed to get closer to George's ass, so he could
see better, then gasped as Ali rammed him.  I was shocked, but the
Mongolian didn't seem to mind.  It took me a second or two to realize the
oriental expected to be fucked and was ready.

Some old and experienced bottoms have mush in their asses.  George's love
tunnel was firm and tightly gripped my cock.

"Slow up and let me fuck him,"Ali said.  "He likes a long session, and I
can keep him up without popping.  You can fuck Yu." I pulled out and let
Ali take my place in George's ass.  I wasn't sure if I would fit in Yu's
ass.  He was small.

Ali must have been a mind reader."Don't worry about Yu.  He can take it!
There's a lot more to him than meets the eye." Ali said.  George calmed
down as Ali pumped him slowly.  Yu's ass looked tiny.  I stuck my finger
into his as and realized he was fully lubricated, so I pushed my cock into
the minuscule opening.

Yu growled as my cock slid into his chute.  I had heard the growl before
and knew all was well.  Lubricant squirted out beside my cock as I forced
it in.  You know an ass is tight if there is not room for a cock and lube
in the hole.  Usually with a small guy I stop halfway in and see how he
reacts.  Five inches is enough for some men.

Yu kept on growling, so I kept on pushing, stopping only when my pubic hair
was pressed against his buns.  I waited to let him get use to it.  His ass
began to contract and then undulate.  Somehow Yu could control his ass
muscles.  His rectum began to massage my cock.  I began to pull out and
then ram him hard.  Yu and I were on exactly the same wavelength.

The four of us fucked for a good two hours, trading partners from time to
time.  I was entering George's ass for the fourth or fifth time, when
George said, "I've got to shoot, or I'll explode!" I knew what he was
feeling.  The sex was so good that my cock was so sensitive it almost hurt.
I wanted release too.

"What can I do to make it happen?" I asked.

He whispered, "Ram me." That's what I did and he popped.  The cum covered
his hairy body with glistening drops of man seed sitting on top of the
black coat. Ali did the same to Yu, but he pulled out and sprayed George,
adding his cum to the mix.  Ali and Yu joined George on the bed.  Yu was
rock hard, with his cock sticking straight into the air.  It was coated in
precum.

I straddled the Mongolian and sat on it.  It was six inches and the thing
my it hit the bull's eye in my ass.  When I spurted, Yu twitched and
jerked.  I knew he was rear loading me as I sprayed Ali and George with my
jiz.  We all fell asleep.

When I woke the next morning, Yu was gone and Ali was slow fucking George.
Ali shot off in George's ass.  I replaced him.  I had one hell of a piss
hard and Ali's cum was a great lubricant, so I rammed George hard, fast and
effectively.  George popped in not time at all and fell asleep again.  I
went to the bathroom and took a piss while Ali showered.

It was a long shower.  I put two and two together and joined him.  Ali
looked relieved.

"You don't like uncut cock?" I asked.

"Well, I'm Muslim, it's unclean." he said.  "I'm not a very good Muslim,
but I just feel uncomfortable." I was busy washing my cock, inside and out;
he was fascinated.

"But it's okay to fuck an uncut guy?"

Ali laughed.  "I guess it is.  Maybe that doesn't make much sense.  You top
and bottom?"

"Obviously.  I'm 90% top, but it's nice to get your prostate tickled once
in a while.  You?"

He looked sheepish.  "Don't tell anyone, but once in a while.  My Uncles
did it to me years ago."

"Taken an uncut cock?"

He looked at me long and hard.  "Not yet." he said.  I wasn't going to
press the subject, but George joined us and the conversation was over.
George drove me back to St. Petersburg that morning.  I said, I had to wire
for more cash, but we would get back together again.  He said, he was out
of town for two days, but would call when he got back.  There were several
messages waiting for me at the hotel.  One was from Anatol and another from
a man named Josef Schmidt.