Date: Sun, 11 Sep 2016 16:06:09 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Looks for Loot 5

Catfish Looks for Loot 5
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!


Danny's photographs showed rooms filled with stuff: antiques, sculptures
and paintings. It was hard to focus on an individual painting because there
was so much. I was hunting for something I had seen in the stolen art
records. That was hard since Danny was hunting for my cock. I tried to
divert his attention.

"Are you a size-queen by any chance?" I asked.

"Hell no, but I'm willing to try," he replied. I had guessed wrong about
his preferences.

"You bottom?" I asked.

"No, you bottom?" he asked.

"I've been known to take a cock, but I like a man who reciprocates," I
said.  That made my interests pretty clear. I thought it might discourage
him, but I had underestimated the nature of a sex driven man. I laughed to
myself. I was the last man in the world to underestimate a man's sexual
urges.

I heard a noise and looked up. A man was in the room looking at us. Danny
looked up too.

"You have to stop sneaking up on us, Doug," Danny said. "It's rude."

"Are you busy? I was just passing by," Doug said.

"Not as busy as I was hoping to be," Danny replied.

"Is there room for a third?" Doug asked. "I'm really horny."

Danny looked at me and explined. "Doug was my first lover. Now we're just
sex buddies. He has a nice ass, open and accommodating. Are you willing to
share your ass Doug with guy you don't know?" Doug nodded.

"I don't mind helping a man in need," I said. By then Doug was naked and a
few seconds later Danny was naked too. I stripped. There were no
preliminaries; we went from just meeting to full sexual involvement in
seconds. I had just kicked off my pants when Doug was trying to deep throat
me. He took my entire cock, but as I became hard, he pulled back. When we
got on the bed Doug switched to sucking Danny's fireplug style cock. I
rotated and sucked Doug, as Danny sucked me.

Doug had a long, thin cock and was oozing precum. I could easily deep
throat him and when I pulled off, I suctioned globs of the stuff from his
balls. Danny had my cockhead in his mouth and he seemed to be trying to get
his tongue into my oozing cum slit. We traded partners and I discovered
that Danny's cock was the Niagara Falls of precum spigots. The ooze flowed.

I know that it is easy to catch sexual excitement from other excited
men. This was the perfect storm for sex. We were all into it. Somehow my
cock was soon in Doug's ass and he was moaning in pleasure.  Danny gave me
a snort of poppers and eased into my hole using his precum as lubricant. He
had a short, stubby cock with an oversized mushroom. It continuously rubbed
my prostate.

We had near prefect coordination. As his knob rammed my prostate, it
boosted me deeper into Doug's ass. Both Danny and Doug were appreciative.

I needed a break and Danny took my place in Doug's ass. This was their
usual role and it was a joy to watch. Danny's ass was wide open. I gave him
the poppers. He took a whiff, then I took a snort. He shivered as my knob
touched his hole. I pushed. It vanished into his ass.

I was shocked. A second or two later, I realized Danny was shooting off
into Doug. I could feel him twitch with each ejaculation. He pulled out of
Doug and let him cool down.

"I didn't know you bottomed," Doug said to Danny. "That was the first time
you have popped in me."

"You liked that? I didn't expect what happened. It surprised me," Danny
replied. "I kind of lost it."

"That's why we are here, isn't it?" I said. "Cum exchange is part of the
deal."

"Are you still fully loaded?" Danny asked. "Doug likes to lick it up
sometimes."

"I like to make deliveries to the mouth and the ass," I said, adding that
there was enough spooge for them both. I was behind Doug on the bed. My
cock sought out his hole and gently eased into the pucker.

"Do you mind if I push Danny's seed deeper into you?" I asked.

"Oh god that good!" Doug moaned.

Danny snuggled up to me. His long prong was soon probing my ass. A triple
fuck is complicated, but Danny and Doug were into it and made it
work. Luckily, Danny had just begun to explore the sexual potential of his
prostate, and wanted to do more. After two hours more of sex and every
possible sexual combination, I was worn out and went home.

I got back to the hotel by11:00. Toby had just returned from dinner.  Bobby
and Billy arrived at 11:30. We were all tired. At breakfast the next day
Toby told us that Beau thought he was a hot prospect and had mentioned some
"special" items that might interest him.  Toby had told him that he didn't
like people looking at his collection; it was strictly for his own
pleasure. He also told Beau that all his purchases were strictly in cash. A
good portion of his business was in cash, and he didn't always report it to
the IRS.

Toby was very perceptive. Toby had a perfect act of a redneck who had made
it to the big time. He knew how to say things with a little innuendo
letting Beau know he was flexible. Paintings with a problematic backgrounds
were not a problem.

That afternoon after we looked at the paintings at the gallery, we went to
the secret warehouse. Beau didn't want Toby's entourage, but since Toby
paid in cash, he understood why we were there. The trip to the warehouse
was a surprise. If there was a Stolen Art R US store, this would be
it. There were American and European paintings, Wild West art, American
Indian stuff, Central American artifacts, a lot of Mid-Eastern antiquities.

I had an odd sense that this was where stolen art went when it was too hot
to sell. Toby kept Beau occupied as I took pictures elsewhere in the
warehouse. Beau bought about fifty-thousand dollars of art in cash. I
suspected that Beau was usually more careful about letting strangers see
the collection.  Toby flashed wads of cash in front of Beau. That
distracted him and he let down his guard.

It was Toby's personal money, but the FBI had marked it to make it
traceable. We didn't know if Beau owned the works, or if they were on
consignment. Following the cash would be useful. Driving back to Richmond,
Toby told me the paintings were going for ten cents on the
dollar. "Townsend told me the usual stolen painting discount is fifty to
sixty percent. I wonder if there are stolen works, and even more stolen
works?" he mused. "Can some paintings be too hot to sell?"

"Townsend is the man for the answer to that question," Toby answered. "I
told Beau that I would be back for some more high dollar art. He is the
perfect snake oil salesman; he was all but drooling when I left. I did
mention that I kept part of my collection secret. That was in case he found
out about my museum connection.  He is uneasy about museums. He says their
demands for proper provenance is too much. They miss out on a lot of good
paintings by being unreasonably demanding."

Bobby and Billy had been near perfect low IQ goons. They were smart guys,
but they played the role well.  My Uncle that for most men playing dumb is
easy.  While I had been talking pictures of painting, Billy took pictures
of the labels on the back of the paintings. That proved to be very useful.

I had sent my cell phone photos to the museum. I received a return message
asking if we could meet the next afternoon. The next day's meeting at the
museum was good. They had identified several paintings, but the labels
which identified galleries and auction lots were the star of the show. The
labels excited the New York and the European investigators. Toby had bought
a small painting which had been in the Hirsh collection, by a guy named
Lucas Cranach. I had never heard of him, but it was part of the Old Masters
part of the collection which was still missing.

This meant that the other part of the Hirsh collection might have
survived. The professional art detectives were pleased with the photos. It
turns out that the men and women looking for stolen and looted art tend to
be obsessive. They have done detailed research on the missing paintings and
have a list of the usual suspects imprinted on their brains. Most of the
suspect galleries were in Europe, New York, Chicago and Buenos Aires.

The looting of Jewish art collections was a well-known activity. In some
respects, the Nazi's were equal opportunity looters. Polish collections
were stolen as were Dutch and French collections, if their owners had left
them as they escaped the invasion.

The Director took us to the Museum's conservation labs, where they were
doing emergency repairs to damaged artworks. An un-air-conditioned
warehouse in Petersburg is not good for old paintings. There were paintings
everywhere.  All of the paintings were dirty, several were badly
damaged. There had been a leak, so there was water damage, and one painting
was slashed. A conservator said glass from a broken skylight had done that.

One of my former employees was working there. Tony had been a part time
worker for me years earlier. He had gained some weight, all of it in muscle
and he looked good. He was injecting some sort of adhesive behind flaking
paint to keep it in place. Tony was a big man, but he had an incredibly
delicate touch.

He had also been removing labels. There were multiple gallery labels,
auction house tags and labels of private collectors. The German agencies
also added their own marks, complete with a written destination for the
painting. Some were marked for museums, but others for individual German
army officers.

This was the Rosetta stone for the European art hunters. It provided a
missing link between the looted art collections and their original
destination. The Monuments Men had found the caves and mines holding the
big public collections, but many paintings had already been distributed to
individuals.

Toby was ready for another trip to Charlotte, but the FBI decided to raid
the place immediately. The condition problems of the Petersburg paintings
suggested that some of the works needed immediate rescue. There was also a
fear that if any word leaked out about the investigation the warehouse
might be torched. Our job was done. I went home, planning for a restful
night.

This was a good result for me. I was a little surprised when Toby, Townsend
and Tony came to see me in the evening two days later. We had a beer and
Toby got down to business. He had mentioned that his wife had been scammed
by several galleries when she had begun to collect. It hadn't been much of
a financial loss to him, but it had deeply embarrassed his wife.  He wanted
to put them out of business.

This had nothing to do with the museum. The Museum moved in more elevated
collecting levels than these small town actors. Townsend and Tony were
willing to help out, but they wanted more professional guidance. We had a
few more beers and I agreed to join them. It was getting late and when they
got ready to leave, I realized no one was in shape to drive home.

"Hey boys, I'm afraid no one is going to drive tonight. How about a sleep
over?" I suggested.

"I don't have my jammies?" Townsend jokingly protested. The men
laughed. "Do you still sleep nude?" he asked. I nodded.

"I thought you slept nude and erect?" Toby added. He looked around at the
other men. "Are we all members of the same fraternity?" He knew the answer
and then mentioned that he didn't bottom much. Toby was enthusiastic about
the sleep-over.  I soon realized that Tony was the reason for his interest.

Townsend, Billy and Johnny were okay looking men; Tony was an A-Number-One
stud-muffin. It helped that Tony seemed unaware of his good looks, or
muscular body. He was also intelligent, a good conversationalist and
willing. Tony liked bear types. While twinks can age badly, bears just
become more bear-like as they age. Toby was so interested in Tony that he
made the first move. He fondled Tony balls and a minute later they were
naked and in the 69 position.

That left me with Townsend. He was a slightly effete otter. While I wasn't
his type, sex with me hit the spot for him. Actually, we had a lot of fun.

Toby and Townsend's relationship was all oral. Townsend and my relationship
always ended with my cock deep in his ass.  I think Townsend was a bit
uneasy about that, but his sexual needs seemed to demand a fresh load of my
cum in his ass. I think he was also uneasy about Toby's reaction to that.

He didn't need to worry. Toby liked it and he liked to watch as Tony sucked
him. I knew from my time as an undercover porn actor, that I had a perfect
cock for spectators. Any cock can create sexual pleasure, but mine was long
enough to see, even when the camera man isn't very good. I can also thrust
at a slow and easy rate. Frantic fucking may be good, but it is hard to
photograph. I was good about pulling out briefly, shooting off on my
playmates hole, and then planting the quivering seed in the open ass. I am
a scrawny, unimpressive man, but seeing the orgasm and sperm planting was
good for porn. It sure was good for Toby.

When I pulled out, Toby took my place. Townsend's sperm filled ass was a
magnet. Townsend's ass had briefly remained open when I pulled out. Toby
slipped in in time for Townsend's to close his sphincter on the cock. Tony
wasn't the shy type. He stood behind Toby, playing with his tits and
advising him on good fucking technique. "Cum is the best lube," Tony
whispered to Toby.

"Do you want to do him?" Toby asked.

"Add you cream to the brew," Tony said. "I've never fucked a guy with two
loads in him before."  It didn't take long for Toby to pop. He pulled out
and Tony replaced him. Watching sex acts can be a turn on, but they are
rarely pretty. Tony and Townsend were elegant, graceful and unexpectedly
macho. Tony's thrusts were rhythmic and deep. Townsend responded to every
thrust.  Somehow Tony shot off as Townsend sprayed the room with a hands
free orgasm. Things calmed down after that. we all took a shower and went
to bed.

At five in the morning, Toby's moans woke me.  He was on his back with his
legs on Tony's shoulders as he experienced the same rhythmic thrusting. It
was pretty and I watched as Toby discovered his prostate and its sexual
potential. While Tony had a nice cock, I think Toby appreciated Tony's body
more.

Toby's moans woke Townsend too. He was sharing my bed. Townsend is a young
guy and he woke with a first rate erection. I had an itch up my ass, so I
felt his cock, realized he was already oozing. I straddled him and sat on
it. I was relaxed and it slid in easily. I am not a natural bottom, but
when I do, I am an active bottom. I rotated my ass and clenched my
sphincter to massage the cock. Sometimes it is nice when the bottom does
all the work and lets the top concentrate on staying hard.

Townsend liked this and after ten minutes or so, he shot off. Much to my
surprise, I felt his ejaculations. My prostate felt his cock twitching, and
it felt like a miniature fire hose was spurting deep in my ass. We
adjourned to the shower. Toby bent over and Tony returned to his
ass. Townsend took advantage of Tony's open hole and I entered Townsend. We
played a little game of musical chairs and rotated partners.

At the last rotation, I was in Toby's ass, Tony in mine and Townsend in
Tony. I was the third man to fuck Toby that night, so I was careful.  My
cock was bigger than Tony or Townsend's organ. Toby was really open and it
wasn't a problem. Tony shot off in me, and then he and Townsend went to
Toby's cock to take his cum. I began to pound harder and Toby popped. Toby
seemed to have a hollow leg to store sperm; all of his orgasms were
massively productive. There was enough to share. Afterwards, Townsend came
to kiss me. His mouth was full of Toby's sperm and we shared. That made me
shoot off. Toby noticed and had a few late ejaculations. Tony was still
sucking, and took it all.

We weren't exactly lovers, but we were an incredibly compatible sex
group. The session was over, but we knew we would do it again.

A week later Townsend and I were at a gallery in Savanna. I was playing the
older redneck who had hit it big. I was a sugar daddy. Townsend was my
boy. We went to Old Plantation Gallery which had sold Toby's wife a
landscape they said was an Asher Durand. Townsend was playing the
pretentious boy on the make, who thought paintings "classed up" a house. I
was the rich redneck who was just trying to keep boy in bed.

I am just few steps up from being the village idiot with respect to
paintings, but most of the stuff there was "sofa sized" paintings sold from
a truck in the parking lots of a half-empty shopping center. Townsend told
the gallery owner Betty that he wanted older paintings, to match an antique
dining room set.

Betty knew the lay of the land and called in a 25-year-old pretty boy,
Grant, and an old man, Sonny, to show us around the good stuff. The Old
Plantation had both an up-scale gallery that showed the "good" paintings,
and a back room. The back room was all over priced junk, but appealed to
buyers who thought the dealer might not recognize hidden treasures. Sonny
took Townsend under his wing. I was stuck with Grant.

Grant was obviously learning the trade. He was cute, but thought he was
cuter and more charming than actuality. I told him I was into Western or
Civil War stuff. I think he was 150% gay, but hadn't learned how to check
out a guy's privates without being obvious. He liked what he saw. He was
hard and his precum made a little damp spot.

I said I wasn't that interested in art, and wanted a beer. I asked if there
was any bars nearby. He said no, but his apartment was around the corner. I
told Townsend I was going out for a beer, he said he was busy looking at
the good stuff. He suggested I be back in and hour or hour and a half.

I went off to Grant's apartment. He sort of forgot about the beer and
grabbed my crotch as soon as we were behind closed doors. "Will you get in
trouble with Sonny by going off?" I asked.

"Hell no! We are on commission and if I'm there he has to split the take,"
Grant explained. He felt my crotch again. "Is that all cock?" he asked. I
knew his job was to keep me happy. Few of their customers knew anything
about art, but they appreciated sex with a young man. I wondered of Grant
was good with wealthy widows too.

I nodded. "Are you interested?" I asked.

"Sort of, I guess," he replied. "I'd like to see it." he paused. "I might
like to taste it." I unzipped. From then on we were and automatic pilot. He
was experienced, but not as experienced as he thought he was. Grant was
horny as shit. He had bottomed a few times, but not for his lover. He
thought his lover was too big. I told him they were rarely too big if you
wanted it enough and that I would be glad to stretch his hole some.

"I'm pretty sure that won't fit!" he said. I know that "pretty sure" means
he was willing; he just needed to do some convincing. I was partly right
about that. He was willing, but he didn't need any convincing. As soon as I
was fully erect he would want it. I knew his type

We went to the bedroom. It was a shock. His bed was in the corner of a
large artist studio filled with paintings being restored, enhanced and
antiqued. This is where he made antiques for sale at the Old Plantation
Galleries.

Grant had a shaved, swimmers body, sleek and elegant. He wasn't my type. I
would make the sacrifice. For a forger, Grant was a nice guy. He also had a
good supply of precum, which I appreciated as inspiration and he liked to
take a cock doggy style. That gave me some time to look around the
studio. I had to be careful. If I became too involved in looking, I might
shoot off too fast. As long as I was hard and in his ass, Grant wouldn't
care what I was looking at.

He had a thin, juicy, easy to deep throat cock. Precum is aphrodisiac for
me, and Grant's cock drool had an extra dose of whatever excited me.  I was
tempted to just lick it up, but I knew he wanted to be fucked, and I wanted
to check out the studio.

Luckily, for a slim, elegant man, Grant had an elastic ass. He was tight,
but he really wanted it. he tensed up when my cock head made it to the dark
side of his sphincter. I pulled out a little and spent a few minutes
massaging and stretching his sphincter before I went deep. It was really
good for him.

It was a tight a good fit for me. Grant had told me he liked long sessions,
and I was pumping slow, deep strokes. Once and awhile I made a fast deep
thrust, to keep his prostate from relaxing. Paintings filled the room. one
side of the room had average paintings. The other had distinctly older
paintings.  They had been aged and improved.

Grand might have been a good painter, and he could add to the works to make
them more saleable. I noticed the portraits on the aged side of the room
had more interesting backgrounds, and some of the women held children.
There were four of these. I knew that most portraits were of women
alone. The children had been added.

When I realize that I shot off. I thought, oh shit, I'm having detective
relating orgasms now. That was a first for me.