Catfish moves to Crestwood Acres 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.
The evening had one other benefit. Larry joined our car pool. Ira's car was fixed, so he decided to drive alone. With gas prices what they are, car pooling made sense to Larry. To tell you the truth I think Jon would have joined if he could. Jon was a odd case. My gut reaction was that he wasn't involved. He wasn't a leader of men and he wasn't a user. It was easy to see a character like Henry using him. I don't think Jon was able to resist an aggressive man.
As we drove to work the next day I asked Larry how he connected with Jon. Larry was an open book. When I was his age I was worried about being gay and kept it secret. That hadn't occurred to Larry. "Henry told me Jon liked some fun on the side," Larry said. "Henry claimed once Jon had sucked your cock, he was yours. Apparently once he's sucked you, he gets paranoid you'll tell and he's pretty much under your control."
"Do you control him?" Glenn asked.
"Shit no," Larry said. "I can get where I want to go without blow jobs lubricating the way."
"Why did you do it, then?" I asked.
"To put him out of his misery," Larry replied, "He wanted it so bad, I felt sorry for him. Oddly, Henry didn't tell me Jon was the Michaelangelo of cock suckers. Jon's not my type, but he's fun and there are no strings."
"Are we charity cases too?"Glenn asked.
"You guys are 90% pure, unadulterated lust an 10% exploration," Larry replied. "I've never been with older men, and never with guys like you. I attract handsome men like a magnet. When I was younger it was really popular with the men at my parents country club. I could pick and choose who I wanted, so I avoided the older guys."
"So last night was slumming?" I asked.
"That's what I thought it would be," Larry said. "I thought it might be interesting. I had no idea I would get so turned on. I also had no idea I would get to totally fucked. Totally fucked in a nice way, that is."
"How is your asshole?" Glenn asked.
"A little tender, but it's my brain that got fucked," he said.
"Will's cock isn't that long!" Glenn said.
"Well it is," Larry said. "I've never been finger fucked like the way you did it. I've had an index finger and a few cocks in my ass before, but nothing like last night. I was riding a tricycle and suddenly found my self riding a Harley. "
"You're okay?" I asked.
"I sure am," Larry replied with enthusiasm. "I loved it. I thought I knew all about man sex. It seems I have just barely scratched the surface. That what I mean when I said Will fucked my brain. I need to do some rethinking about what sex is and who I want to have sex with. What I thought was hot and heavy sex turned out to be more of a Sunday School picnic."
It was possible Larry was involved in the scam, but he struck me as being self confident and self assured. He didn't need a scam to be successful. Henry was a different man all together. I had people looking into his life, I guessed it would not be pretty.
It appeared forged paintings were involved. I wasn't sure how they worked into the scam. It seemed very complex. Some elderly residents at Crestwood paid big bucks for forged paintings. Somehow Henry could pay $500,000.00 cash for a condo. I had no idea what the link was. I knew about one suspect painting, the Frederick Remington, and I didn't know if there were others.
It was a quiet day at Crestwood, so I went by to see the Admiral. I trimmed several shrubs to the rear of his unit. He appeared a few minutes later.
"You sure keep this place looking good," he said.
"I do my best," I said. "It's hot today."
The Admiral was a smart man. He knew what I wanted. "Come on in and get a drink," he said.
When I got in the kitchen, we could talk. "This may sound a little odd, but have you noticed any of your neighbors buying paintings?"
"No I haven't, but I haven't been looking either," he said. "Who are you thinking about?"
"I happened to be in Mrs. Anderson's house," I said. "She had a Frederick Remington hanging over the sofa."
"That's unlikely," the Admiral said. "She has no interest in art at all. She has money, but not that kind of money."
"Are you interested in art?" I asked.
"I wasn't, but my wife was," he said. "I pretended to like it just to humor her and I got hooked. I'm afraid nautical scenes and seascapes appeal to me. I have several good paintings, but even the second tier talents are pricey. A real Remington is almost impossible for a normal wealthy collector. You need to be a billionaire."
"Do you think you might drop in and visit a few people and see if they might have something new hanging on the wall?" I asked.
"Who are you thinking about?" he asked. I gave him a list of several of the residents Ira had mentioned as borderline.
"They are all going gaga," he said. I nodded. "I see, maybe I'll have a little cocktail party tomorrow and ask them in person."
"That would be nice," I said. "I'd better get back to work."
That evening the Admiral just happened to be walking by the locker building and he waved at me. I went over to see him.
"You were right," he said. "Three of the residents had nothing new, or were too far gone to make any sense. Ellen Smith and Emily Carlisle both had recently invested in a painting. Ellen had a small Cassatt portrait of a baby, and Emily had a Homer. The Cassatt is small scale rendition of a painting in the museum in Richmond. It's nicely done, but you don't get a Cassatt for $50,000.00. The Winslow Homer is a seascape. It's a good painting, but not by Homer. I think I know who did it, but I need to look it up."
"How much did that set her back?"
"$65,000.00 or so," the Admiral replied. "Emily thought it was pretty, but wasn't too sure about the cost. It could have been $75,000.00. I asked her if she had it insured. The nice man who sold it to here said the insurance was part of the price, so she didn't need to worry."
"Who was the nice man?"
"Poor Emily didn't remember," he said. "This has the makings of a perfect crime. Assuming the con men don't get caught right away, the witnesses would not be able to testify."
"There must be some financial records of the transactions," I said.
The Admiral disagreed. "I was the executor of a cousin's estate. He had Alzheimer's and his records were either missing or undecipherable."
"Does anyone here help the residents with that sort of thing?"
"I don't know, but I think so," he answered. Glenn had seen us chatting and he joined us.
"Glenn, I was chatting with a friend and it seemed to me she was slipping. Is there someone here who could help her with her finances? She's getting very confused," the Admiral asked.
"Officially Henry Paulus is in charge of all the transitional patients, and they offer some sort of a service, but I don't know who does it. It's not Henry," Glenn said. "Who are you worried about?"
"Emily Carlisle," Admiral Green replied. "She was a dear friend of my wife."
"I'll check on her tomorrow," Glenn said. "I know she's been slipping." At five o'clock then next morning I got a call from the Admiral. There had been a fire in Emily Carlisle's house. She was dead. I called Glenn and Larry and we were there by 6:30. Larry went to help Jon who was in a state, almost in shock. Glenn went to help some of the residents who took it badly. He seemed to be able to calm them down.
I went to the burned building. The firemen were finishing up and the Fire Marshall, Vince Desoto, had arrived. He was a friend of mine. He saw me. I was wearing my Crestwood uniform.
"Hey, he yelled, "Are you a maintenance man?"
"Yes sir!"
"Come over he had give us some help," he ordered.
When I got over to him he whispered, "What in hell are you doing here?"
"Working on a case," I replied.
"Oh shit," he said. "Is this incident a part of the case?"
"It's a fraud and possible financial shenanigans case," I said. "Up until I got a call this morning I'd have said there was a one in a million chance there would be violence. I was wrong."
"This women was involved?"
"She was a possible victim," I said.
Glenn came over with a file. "I have Mrs. Carlisle's medical records and contacts," he said. "It has a list of all of her medications."
"Do you know anything about the night guard, Elizabeth Smith?" DeSoto asked. "She seemed to be drunk and had passed out."
"Lizzy doesn't drink," Glenn said. "She had a serious liver disease and can't take a drop. I'd test her for a sedative."
"Does she take sedatives? DeSoto asked.
"No, she always has a pot of Navy style coffee, so strong it makes hair grow on your chest. I'd test the coffee too." Glenn said as he handed the file to DeSoto. Someone was calling for him, so he left us.
"I bet that boy would love it in the ass," DeSoto whispered to me. "Have you tried him out yet?"
"He a member of the club," I said.
"Do you have first dibs?"
"First come first serve," I said, "I don't know if he bottoms." Vince just smiled. I thought I had good gaydar, but obviously his was more finely tuned.
I hadn't seen the Admiral yet, but he appeared out of the early morning gloom.
"Admiral Green, this is Fire Marshall DeSoto," I said in introduction.
"This may sound odd, but I need to go in the house and look at something," Green said. "It's very important. I was in the house yesterday. I can tell if anything is amiss."
"He's with me," I whispered to Vince.
"We can all do a quick inspection," DeSoto said. The fire had been in the rear of the house, but the front rooms were smoke and water damaged. "We found her in the bedroom." We went in the house. Burned houses make me feel sick. My Aunt's body had been found in her burned house. The house looked defiled.
"I need to look at the living room," the Admiral said. "Get some light above the sofa." He was use to giving orders and the fireman obeyed.
There was a picture hanger there, but no painting. We looked at the sofa, on the floor and at the space behind the sofa. There was no sign of the Winslow Homer.
"Have you seen what you wanted?" DeSoto asked. The Admiral nodded. He looked shocked.
"I personally think this is a tragic accident that requires only routine investigation," I said. "It may not be a fast investigation since other matters are more pressing."
"That will be my official report," DeSoto said. "I'll have something in a few months. Where can I talk with you privately?" he asked. "It may be a few hours from now."
"At my house," the admiral replied, "I'll be waiting." He gave DeSoto his address.
Billy Madson, my client arrived and talked with Vince. I made it a point to not talk with him, since I didn't want anyone to see me with the owner of the Security company. I did hear him protesting about the sobriety of Liz Smith. As Billy left he winked at me.
Later I heard a television report about a tragic fire and death at Crestwood Acres. The reporter reminded older people to be careful with frayed electrical cords. That sounded good to me. When I went by Mrs. Carlisle's house, I saw that Vince had the senior investigators of his department there along with a crime scene lab. This was the A team, not the second string.
Larry came by. He was going to each residence and checking the fire detectors. He was also telling them about a memorial service planned for the evening. Jon and Henry were working on it. That event would occupy all of the senior staff, so I was left alone and unobserved. I could get together with Vince and then Admiral.
The Admiral was fuming. He wanted to strangle someone, but he didn't know who. It told him DeSoto was top of the line.
"He's older than I am," he said. "I heard something about an electrical cord. That's shit." "Vince has retired about five times and he keeps getting called back. He can smell arson better than a blood hound," I said. "Firehose is just as determined too."
"Firehose?"
"It's his nick name. Vince and I share a common physical characteristic."
"I could see you are the same height," the Admiral said. Vince was six feet two or three. "I guess you know him real well?"
"Real well," I replied.
It was after 11:00 when DeSoto arrived at the Admiral's house.
"What's this about a frayed electrical cord?" Green asked. "Emily was fastidious about that sort of thing."
"We just didn't mention it had been frayed with a knife," DeSoto answered. "We like to keep the perpetrators relaxed. That nurse was right. The night guard's coffee had been tampered with. It was a prescription sedative. Okay men, what's going on here? Tell me everything."
I outlined what we knew about the case. The Admiral explained his role. He thought he had precipitated the death by discovering the fake Winslow Homer.
"It's unusual for a white collar crime to turn to violence," Vince said. "If this was a fraud perpetrated on Alzheimer's patients, it was calculated to avoid violence. The victims had self erasing minds. You couldn't have anticipated this. Do you have anyone you suspect?"
"No. Henry Paulus I think is a snake, but I can't believe he would do anything physical," the Admiral said. "I only see him here. He may have disreputable friends on the other side of our gatehouse."
"I'm working on that," I said. "He has another life in Richmond."
"Is the nurse okay?" Vince asked.
"Glenn? One hundred percent reliable," the admiral said. "When my wife was sick he was a godsend. I tried to give him some money to thank him and he refused. He had been through a rough patch in his life. Nursing my wife reminded him of why he became a nurse. That was enough. He knows his stuff too. Glenn keeps an eye on the problem residents and heads off problems before they get out of hand."
"He knows the Crestwood staff well too," I said. "He's a good judge of character."
"Admiral Green if you could keep you ears open at the memorial service tonight, I'd appreciate it," Firehose asked. "Are you going, Catfish?"
"No. I'm new here, it would be too suspicious. I carpool with Glen and Larry, the young intern, so I'll be here late."
Maybe you could bring Glenn home with you tonight and I could talk with him?" DeSoto asked.
"It may be hard to do that without Larry guessing something is up," I said.
DeSoto laughed. "You can cross that boy off your list," he said. "His daddy is Paul Waldorf of Waldorf's department store. His momma is Elissa Battenburg, of the Battenburg & Sons Brokerage house. My grandsons know him. He's one of the few of their friends who isn't a spoiled brat. He's worth fifty or sixty million from his grandfathers trust fund."
"He didn't mention his last name," I said. "I've never heard of him."
"His full name is Lawrence Wyeth Waldorf IV. They've got more money than God, but they aren't into show. Larry can spend most of his life giving money away. Elissa is interested in care for the elderly," Firehose explained. "My guess is he's doing field work for her foundation."
The memorial service was at six thirty. I'm glad I didn't go to it. I'd have had a hard time staying composed. Jon, to give him credit, did a good job. He was reassuring and comforting. He started by saying he wasn't going to talk about her death. He would only talk about her life and the love she brought to her friends and family. Henry read a bible verse and I didn't get the dry heaves. The Admiral gave an appreciation. It was short but appropriate.
After the service I collected Larry and Glenn and we went to Richmond. I asked if they'd like a drink at my apartment. Both men said yes. It was about nine when we got to my apartment. It's above the headquarters of Catfish & Company, but there was only a small sign, that neither Glenn or Larry noticed. A cold beer really hit the spot. We had all downed two beers by the time Firehose arrived ten minutes later. Then we had another round of beers.
We were all tired and needed to wind down. Firehose was covered in dirt and soot. I had been working since six and was tired and dirty. "I need a shower, Catfish,"Firehose announced. "Have these boys seen your bathroom?"
"Not yet. They just got here," I said.
"We could all use a little freshening up," Larry said.
"Well the shower is big enough for all of us," Firehose said. We trooped off to my bed room and the shower. My shower room-bath is an extravaganza of azure tiles with multi colored, bas-relief, ceramic parrots and palm trees. A decorator had miss ordered the tiles and the tile man installed it in his apartment above the store. It looked like a 1930s stage set. It had room for six.
No one in our group was shy and as before, Larry was hard as soon as soon as he saw big meat. This time Glenn was looking at Firehose and he was erect too. "Sorry about that," he said.
"It's nice to be appreciated," Firehose replied. Glenn got to Firehose before Larry did,and I got to sample the boy's lavender cock head. It was all I hoped for. After a lick the cock juices began to flow. I hadn't had the opportunity to suction the goo from his cock before. Some guys get hard easily, but it takes a real workout to get the juice. Sometimes you only get a brief taste before the cream spurts. Larry was a taste treat.
While I sucked Larry, Firehose and Glenn did some quick negotiating. Firehose liked to top, and Glenn wasn't sure he could take it. Firehose thought he could. "Let me make you a proposition," Vince said. "If I can get the first five or six inches in, I get to go the rest of the way. If the first half is too much, we'll call it a day."
To tell you the truth I wasn't sure Firehose was sincere about that. I knew the length of his cock wasn't the problem. It was the diameter. Glenn agreed. He was no fool and knew the entire organ would end up in his ass one way or another.
I was amused by the conversion. Larry loved it. The pre cum flowed in a direct relationship with his state of arousal. He was turned on. I got the lubricant and some poppers out. Larry took the lead in opening Glenn's ass. He had learned well and got Glenn open and turned on. Larry's hands were slimmer and longer than Glenn's. He discovered Glenn's Magic nut right off the bat and he used it as a punching bag for his finger.
I helped lubricate the fire hose. Vince had no problem staying hard, but he liked the attention. Larry was on his hands and knees as he worked on Glenn's ass. Downey hair covered Larry's ass, with longer hairs at the puffy and slightly swollen hole. I took a little lubricant and coated Larry's hole. I thought a little salve would feel good. I wasn't going lubricate the sphincter or the tunnel. I figured Larry needed some rest.
Larry's ass all but dilated. He was in the mood and more than receptive. Larry and Glen were now both on their knees, watching as they prepared to get fucked. I wouldn't say we exactly did synchronized fucking, but we came damn close. Larry's ass must have remembered the earlier experience and it opened for me.
Glenn was so excited watching me fuck Larry, Vince had gone beyond the halfway point before Glenn noticed how big it was. Once he was all the way in, Vince pulled out, flipped Glenn and fucked him again. I got Larry to 69 with Glenn. Larry's ass still looked needy and I popped in for a second time. This arrangement gave both of them a front row seat to watch the other getting fucked. They knew what they were watching was all but identical to what was happening to their holes. They liked that a lot.
After five or ten minutes Glenn said. "I need a rest." We all did. We broke apart and cooled down. Vince was on his back, with the fire hose sticking straight into the air. Before I knew what was going on, Larry straddled on Vince and impaled himself on the older man's cock. The younger man did a pole dance on the erect cock and Vince began to shoot. Larry loved that.
I figured turn about was fair play, so as Larry lay on the floor panting, I sat on his cock. As the lavender knob rubbed my prostate, he began to shiver and shake. His ejaculations were strong enough to tickle my rectum. I bounced on the erect member and he gave my chute a cum bath. He was almost crying it felt so good. Glen was on the floor next to Larry, so I sat on him next.
I looked him in the eye just before I sat on his meat. I think he was grateful. His cock was uncut and thick and it really hit the spot as it slid in to my rectum. With Larry's cum lubricating the way, it felt great. Glen rolled me over and fucked me like a dog in heat for about ten minutes when he and I both shot off.