Intimate Investigations 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 winarch47@yahoo.com
Charlton was a find. Donny-Boy was working on a sermon on "Good Christians Deserve Wealth." The scriptural back-up for the sermons was limited, but it tended to focus on the bad Christians who were unworthy of wealth. God would eventually correct this problem. The exact method of the transfer of wealth was unclear.
A second sermon said that true believers had an obligation to help God achieve the movement from the unworthy to the worthy. The omnipotent God needed earthly helpers.
These sermons were not publicly distributed. They were sent to a group called the Elect. These were the truest of the true believers. Lonnie knew that Sanford Jr. was the only multi-millionaire member of the congregation.
Charlton told me this at our second meeting in his house. The sex was good as before. I discovered that Charlton liked marathon fucking sessions. After I had been massaging his rectum for fifteen minutes, I ask if he wanted to fuck me. I wasn't completely surprised that he was willing.
He was well endowed and took his time working his well lubricated cock into me. I told him he could pump fast if he wanted to shoot off quickly. If he pumped slowly, it would take longer to shoot off, but the orgasm might be stronger. He opted for the slower approach.
"Your ass is warm, my cock feels at home," he said. "I thought fucking would be messy. It's beautiful. Will it get messy when I shoot off?"
"It's the most beautiful mess to man can make," I replied. I am not a passive bottom. I used my sphincter to caress or grab his cock as he pumped. Charlton loved that.
My ass turned Charlton into a conversationalist. I wondered if sexual contact encouraged him to talk. He was an observer about the people he was recording. He observed and remembered. It was apparent that Donny-Boy was obsessed about money in general and Sanford Junior's money in particular. Sanford was an old, decrepit man who was going gaga. Donny-Boy saw himself as a handsome young man who could bend the weak-willed to do his bidding.
Charlton thought Donny-Boy was a whack job. I thought he has delusions of grandeur, enhanced by sadist tendencies. Our conversation ended when Charlton shot off. He was asleep five minutes later.
I went home, called Fabien Luck. I told him about Donny-Boy and his church. He was pleased that Donny-Boy was the problem. I asked if he wanted me to continue working on the case since his firm was not at risk. He said no, I should continue. "I do not want Donny-Boy to become my client."
The church was closed on Mondays. On Sunday, they had services at eight, eleven, five and eight at night. Everyone was exhausted. I suspected Donny-Boy needed rest, so the staff had Monday off. He always wanted to keep an eye on his staff.
I went to touch base with my own office staff. All was well there. At four in the afternoon Wally Bingham, one of Walter Bigham's sons came by. Wally was a twenty-three-years-old. He was a slimmer version of his dad. He was a computer programmer of a major company and not involved with the shipping company. His father was in Europe, and he wanted Wally to get an update.
I told him my suspicions.
"I've thought the Free Baptist Church was freak show. Their preacher is a fucking idiot." Wally said. "I didn't think he was dangerous. Dad would like to know that. He thought that only Sanford III was in trouble. That his father is the target will surprise him. Sanford III is a nice guy. I've never met his father."
"Families are complicated sometimes," I said.
"Sally was my mom's good friend. When mom died, she was helpful, especially with my sisters who were young," he explained. "I had some problems in school with bullies," he said. "I've grown out since then. She knew how to deal with that."
"Your dad didn't help?" I asked.
"I didn't tell Dad. He can be very direct in dealing with problem. I'm gay and didn't want him to know," he explained. "It turned out that she did tell dad. Sally could have told him to eat hot coals for breakfast and he would have done it. I'm not sure he knew how to deal with woman as beautiful as Sally."
"They look like a mismatched couple," I said.
"I thought so, but they are perfect for each other. He thinks he has died and gone to heaven; she has a man she can count on," he explained. "Both of them are smarter than they look. Sally's not a Dumb Bimbo, and dad's not a Neanderthal throwback."
"You don't look like a gay boy-toy," I observed.
"I'm too hairy and old looking to be a beach bunny, and to young to be a bear," he said. "I don't get out much."
"A late start means you avoid making a lot of mistakes," I said.
Doug came by my office and asked me over to dinner. He asked Wally to come along. There was enough for three. Wally came with us. Dinner was good. It wasn't gourmet but it was better than Wally's normal burger and fries take out. I had a call on my cell, and while I talked, Doug and Wally talked. Doug mentioned that he and I often had a recreational session when we got together.
Wally asked him if he could join us. Doug had never said no to any sexual situation. I was annoyed when I found out that Wally was joining us, but not annoyed enough to go home. Every once and a while a bad idea turns out to be just the right thing.
An hour and a half later, Wally had turned in his tricycle for a heavy-duty mountain bike. He had sampled fresh cum straight from the cock. Doug and I had helped to open Wally's ass as a new recreational area. He also discovered the joys of hands-free orgasms.
Wally knew how to suck. He had unsuccessful efforts at fucking and a failed effort taking a cock. I deep throated him. That was a total success. He then fucked me. He liked that a lot. While he was fucking me, Doug surprised him by slipping his cock into Wally's ass as Wally did me. It was an unexpected attack form the rear. Wally was relaxed and Doug's cock was massaging Wally's prostate before he knew he was fucked. Doug was interested in prostates, and Wally had an impressive orgasm in my ass. When we broke apart, I put Wally's legs on my shoulders and eased my cock into his ass. I was just hard enough to penetrate him. My cock got harder the longer I was in him, so Wally had a nice and easy introduction to taking a large cock.
He begged me to pull out, and I slowly eased it out of his ass. My cock head just reached his sphincter when he said, "Maybe you could push it in again. I feel empty." We all laughed.
"Wally, you are going to make some guy really happy!" I said. These were new experiences for him. He deemed to be more than ready to expand his sexual repertoire.
I had to leave for my apartment near the church. Tuesday was usually a madhouse at the church, so I had to be there at seven the morning. Doug and Wally yelled a good-by from the bed.
I had locked the building at seven, but a youth group leader had a key. Om Monday, they had moved half of the chairs in the worship center to play volleyball. It was a wreck. There was to be a funeral at 11:00. It took every minute to get the room presentable. Normally Lonnie would help, but someone decided a full choir was needed, and they had to rehearse the music selected by the grieving family.
The funeral was long since Donny-Boy gave an hour-long tribute to the deceased. The service lasted to 12:45. The office staff left for lunch. I went to the offices to do my regular cleaning. I noticed one odd thing. The doors to the secret file room had been left unlocked someone had been using the files at night. I had my cell phone and took pictures of the labels on the file drawers, and of two ledgers that had been left open on a table. I didn't look at the files because I had limited time, but I knew Doug would know what they were.
If you can't be smart sometimes you get lucky. The church gave the funeral the deluxe treatment and hired Tommy Buckskin to do several solo hymns. He went to the interment at the cemetery where he sang the Old Rugged Cross. He returned late in the day to the church to collect his equipment. He also made a pit stop in toilet room where Lonnie and I met.
Tommy Buckskin was tired and sweaty and need to piss big time. I was tired and sweaty, but neither of us were too tired to not exchange the gay urinal handshake. He nicely equipped, but while Lonnie and I had just shaken our cocks to signal interest, Buckskin became fully erect. It was hard to miss the sincerity of his interest.
Lonnie came in and joined in the mutual admiration society meeting. After locking up at five we adjourned to Lonnie's apartment. Buckskin was naked seconds after we entered the apartment. We shared a shower and got down to major fornication. Buckskin was a hairy, dirty blond with mutton chops flanking a bald head. He could have combed his shoulder hair up to do a comb over. He wasn't a virgin.
Buckskin liked the bottom, so Lonnie and I took turns fucking him on his back with legs up. I took him from the rear and Lonnie took him from the side. He loved it all. Lonnie and did joint fuck, sharing his ass. It was tight, but he loved it. His ass was good, but I loved rubbing Lonnie's cock in the tight confines of Buckskin's ass.
Buckskins' real name a Jonathan Miller. He was a guy from Staunton. He was the creation of the Appalachian Studio that remade him as a country and western singer. He had sung Amazing Grace at a funeral that caused a sensation in born again circles. He had a deep, bass, voice that impressed people. He was genuinely gay, but every thing else about him was created by Appalachian Studio's PR persons. The only time Jonathan Miller was genuine was when there was a cock up his ass.
Somehow, I suspected that while he had an entirely fake persona, he was not a crook. He was raking in money as a singer. His interest in gay sex was genuine. Pretend gay men don't take two cocks up there ass while moaning "Go deeper, I want it all."
I did more detailed checking. Doug found out Buckskin's father was a stockbroker, and it was all safely invested. He had no need for extra cash. While he appeared at the Donny-Boys church, it was for funerals at the request of the family. He was never hired by the church. Lonnie told me the church didn't pay musicians and barely paid him.
Lonnie didn't like his music, but admitted his voice was ideal for some hymns. "I thought he was going to be a jerk. The second he was naked he was a different man. After I went home after the we fucked. Buckskin stayed with Lonnie and cooked breakfast for him the next morning.
The next day we had a second, more serious fire at the church. I again called in the fire and got the kids to a safe place. The police were uneasy about me, but the fire was on the other side of the building. It was clearly arson this time because an accelerant was used.
I sat naked in a room at the police station while they tested me and my clothes for traces of the accelerant. The arsonist had been sloppy and there was no way his or her clothes were not splattered with the stuff. I was cleared, and had a good talk with Bill Williams, their arson man. He knew me from my cop days. I told him I was looking for financial irregularities. He asked me to let him know. We had a good talk. I was still naked, and he didn't complain about that.
When I got back to the Church, the staff was rattled. Lonnie learned that the church had doubled their fire insurance coverage a month earlier. Someone was incredibly stupid. That night I called Bill. He knew about the insurance. The Insurance Company had called him about the policy.
Things were happening at a fast pace. Two fires in two weeks showed that things were out of control. It suggested a disordered mind. One fire in a building with a day care center was shocking. Two wasn't rational. The junior staff was frightened. Donny-Boy has his close advisors seemed calm. The lesser staff of secretaries, childcare workers, and one janitor were uneasy.
Lonnie picked up another bit of information. One member of the choir was a real estate agent. He heard a rumor that the church had made a bid to buy the former Deliverance Temple of Jesus building. It had been a Holy Roller church that went belly up when they discovered the preacher was married to four women. He had a wife in the United States, Brazil, Italy, and Cape Town. His interest in continental diversity caused a stir.
The Temple of Jesus building was double the size of the Free Baptist Church. Danny-Boy was planning to expand. I wondered if the insurance payment was to have been the down payment. The executive suite of the church was outwardly calm. Most of the peon-level staff were looking for new work.
Bad things can have good side effects. Lonnie had been cut off from his parents for several years. His Queen of Heaven mannerisms made the Virgin Mary seem like a cage fight wrestler. While he wasn't the son they wanted, he was their only child. He was photographed carrying five children to safety. There were two bassinets in hands two in his arms and one kid riding piggyback style. the kids were having a great time. Lonnie looked determined.
The picture was slightly comic. It must have appeared in every newspaper in the country. It was a feel-good picture of what could have been a disaster. Lonnie's parents drove to see him. They met Donny-Boy, made Lonnie quit and took him home. a week later he had a new apartment near his parents. He got job with a large, upscale church were Bach and Mozart were fine.
A few days later, Buckskin came to see me in my down on his luck, janitorial, one room apartment. Sanford III told him about the extortion attempt. Bill Williams contacted him about the fire. Buckskin looked up my name and found out I was a former policeman.
He was worried about being investigated for arson. I told him not to worry.
"Buckskin, you may remember either Lonnie or I had our cocks in you ass for most of the night before the fire. Lonnie told me he was shooting off in you at eight in the morning. The fire was set at seven-thirty," I explained.
"I wasn't thinking," he said. "Sanford is worried too."
"You are off the list unless you are fucking Donny-Boy," I said.
"That guy makes my skin crawl. I've met him twice, but when I come to a funeral, he doesn't speak to me," Buckskin said. "He introduces me as if we were best friends, but he doesn't even shake my hand."
"I think he has a split personality," I said. "Some self-centered men can only be polite to people who can help them. I suspect Donny-Boy is a few steps beyond that."
"Speaking of self-centered, is there any chance we could get together some time?" he asked. "My pal got excited when I told him about taking two cocks on my ass. I mean, he really got excited." I said sure, which was the wrong thing to say.
Private investigators are pussy cats compared to Insurance investigators and the arson guys. If you are going the burn a building down, you should not do it when there is an occupied daycare center in the building. They are a bit touchy about the prospect of burned babies and children.
The arson men, the insurance investigators, and a few treasury men did a complete search of the building, including the locked rooms. When they appeared at the front door of the church, Donny-Boy left by the back door. An hour later he was in a small private plane on its way to a Caribbean Island.
Sometimes God, or a close associate of his has a sense of humor. Donny-Boy hired a man to set fire to the church. He was the maintenance man for the private airfield where he stored his plane. The maintenance man used airplane fuel from Donny-Boy's plain as the accelerant.
The man was sloppy and used quite a bit a fuel. Since the plane wasn't to be used, he took his time refilling it. Donny-Boy ran out of fuel over South Carolina. He had a crash landing on the median of I-95. Donny and his wife died. His mother survived. She had no idea the had been stealing and she had millions. She gave the feds the account numbers.
There was one surprise at the autopsies of Donny-Boy and his wife. Tammy Delancey had a cock and balls. Since she had generous breasts, she was either a transvestite or a trans sexual. No one had a clue.
Sanford III and Sally got divorced, and Sally married Walter. All was well with them. The church vanished, and the building was demolished.
I was back at work. I received a generous check from Sanford Jr. for saving him from embarrassment and exposing what could have been an expensive scam.