Date: Sat, 4 Nov 2017 11:58:02 -0400
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Joins the Ballet 2

Catfish Joins the Ballet 2

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

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Basil, Dustin and Tony were social fuck mates. They talked and chatted as
they played. There might be a brief, polite lull during an orgasm, but the
chatter resumed as the last drops of sperm drooled from a cock. Sex and the
talk were continuous.  I had the impression this was normal for
them. Dustin wasn't exactly Tony's lover; Tony liked him and loved sex with
him, but he was more of Dustin's patron and benefactor. They were friends
with mutual benefits.

Tony was 60 or so, five-seven and 200 pounds with perhaps 20 additional
pounds of hair. He was not good looking. He discovered some love-for-sale
web sites, and they met a need. Once and a while he found a trick he liked
and could help. He told me that helping young men made him feel like less
of a sleaze ball. It also intensified his sexual pleasure.

The At Your Service operation was one of Tony's on-line discoveries. He
said it began as a legitimate business, but soon developed a special
services operation run by the original owner's son, Lonnie. Lonnie had
"distinctive" tastes and found a way to market to a specialized clientele.

"Lonnie likes gay boys and discovered that many of these boys were really
flexible with respect to services rendered," Tony explained. "The boys
looked young, but he preferred guys who were 22-30. Once the boys were out
in the cold, cruel world for a while, they tended to appreciate the easy
ways you could get cash pleasing men."

"I was a drywaller for a while. That is hard dusty work," Dustin
added. "Tony is a plain old horny old guy. It is just sucking and
fucking. He likes fucking me and he will let me fuck him if he's
drunk. There is no kinky stuff. Some guys like to tie you up and beat
you. Most of that is play acting, but you only need to find one bad guy."

"Lonnie hinted to me that if I wanted anything special, really special, he
could find it for me for a price. Dustin was $150 an hour," Tony
explained. "I paid him $2,000.00 for keeping him as a houseboy. He's my
fourth."

"Tony is a "if you love someone, let them go free" sort of guy," Dustin
said.

"Are you guys familiar with ACME Rentals?" I asked.

"They provided taxi service," Dustin said. "It was all cash under the
table. Nothing could be traced that way. Lonnie had what he called an
office in a briefcase with him. It had his laptop and some burner
phones. You would make contact on line, but the details would be worked out
on the phone. There was no record of the rentals and he had a new phone
each day."

"A nice, untraceable system," I remarked.

"Sometimes there would be five or six of us in the van. Men would come to
the van and pick the ones they wanted," Dustin continued.

"How often were you picked?" I asked.

"Most of the time I was picked. Once they knew me I was always selected,
especially if there was party. I'm versatile and I can cum four or five
times a night," Dustin said. "Tony likes that since he has parties a lot
and I can keep everyone happy. Old guys love it when you spurt. It means
they can still get a guy off." As we talked, Basil was slow fucking
Dustin. It was purely recreational until the inevitable happened.

"Was there a straight component to the operation?" I asked.

"There were women, but they were older. Younger ones get the high dollars,"
Dustin explained. "Lonnie sort of specialized in gays. There was less
competition. For real high dollars you needed kink. Lonnie liked that."

"The dollars or the kink?" I asked.

"Both, I am afraid," Basil said. The conversation continued, but Tony moved
next to me and fondled my cock.

"It's a beauty," he said, "Do you think I could take it?"

"Do you want it? I asked. He nodded. Tony was real tight, but wanted it
badly. Dustin had already shot off in him and the natural lube helped. When
my knob was halfway in, he shot off. I pushed the final four inches into
Tony as Dustin raced over to take his load with considerable gusto.  I
could see why Dustin was popular.

I hadn't shot off. Basil came over to me and bent over. I slipped in
effortlessly. Basil's virgin days were long gone. I prefer a tighter ass,
but Basil lost his cool, calm, detached demeanor. I pounded him to an
orgasm, and his contractions as he ejaculated were enough to get me off. He
told me that sometimes taking the load of an ugly man got him off.

He next morning I gave this information to Harold. Harold was my contact at
the police. He was just a patrol man. I could talk with him without raising
suspicion. We still thought that someone at the Ballet could be involved.

Harold raced off to vice and told then what he had found out. Lonnie was
known, but this was new information. The key information was the connection
to ACME vans. Rental vans were everywhere for every and any reason. The
police now knew to pay special attention to ACME. The police were soon
looking at older cam footage to see if ACME vans were at other crime
scenes.

The under the counter payments were helpful too, especially in a
plea-bargaining situation. Paying someone under the table was not a crime,
but taking the payment to avoid taxes was.

I had a call from Anna. Her father remembered the smell of the man who
stabbed him. It was moth balls and cheap perfume. He thought it was
perfume, not after-shave. The man was wearing a heavy, dress overcoat. It
wasn't that cold yet in Norfolk. He might have been wearing a costume.

The man was described as fat and limber, but he also ran fast enough to out
run Butch and Linda. A fat, fast, limber man didn't sound right. He could
have been a slender, athletic man with padding.

The Police had done some checking on our victim and her mother. The mother
had a rap sheet that included fraud and solicitation. The fraud was an
effort to sue a fast food restaurant for getting sick after a dinner
there. It was quite recent. The solicitation arrest was seven years
earlier.

That was a shocker. I wondered if she was planning to sue the ballet. Could
the event have been staged.  She still may have had connections to the
prostitution scene. I thought about Dustin's comment about older
prostitutes. She was older.  While I preferred the At Your Service-ACME
Rental as villains, but the hysterical mother scam was an option.

Harold and I drove by the ACME Rental office. It was in a run-down district
of small factories and auto parts stores. An auto repair shop, Superior
Repairs, faced it and had a mechanic needed sign in the window.

"Do you have any mechanics working for the Police?"  I asked.

"As a matter of fact, we do. Eddie Jones's father owned a repair
shop. Eddie worked there for years," Harold said. "The shop was in
Charlottesville, so no one here knows him."

Jones was a patrolman, eager to move up. Auto mechanics don't submit
resumes or curriculum vita. Eddie went to work on a trial basis and was
hired full time the next day. Apparently, Eddy's daddy was a good mechanic
and Eddie learned all his skills. Eddie was a good ol' country boy, and he
made friends immediately.

The shop was in a former super market with large windows facing the street,
so the work shop had a full view of ACME.  Eddie found out that ACME didn't
like to pay full price, so they talked some guys from Superior Repairs into
doing work on the side. It turned out Lonnie didn't like paying men working
on the side full price either. He seemed to think fifty cents on the dollar
was adequate. The mechanics were more than willing to dish up the dirt on
ACME Rentals.

The repair shop had an on time-every time rule, so their mechanics worked
late to get the job done. The owner paid over time, and most of the
mechanics needed the cash.

They had noticed that at 7:30-8:00 at night men would rent vans after the
office closed. At first a man would pick up the van and drive away, but
later it would be the man with four of five well-dressed women. The
mechanics knew whores when they saw them. Increasingly, the van would
transport men dressed for a party.

This happened two or three times a week, but since no one worked overtime
on the weekend it might have been more times. After three days the police
set up a stake out in the repair shop.  There was no love lost between
Mort, the owner of the shop and ACME.

A few days later, I was at my apartment with Butch having a beer and
reviewing the situation when Harold dropped by to tell me that they found
four crimes scenes with ACME vans nearby. Butch was a leather bear, but he
was wearing flannel shirts and jeans, sort of an urban lumberjack
look. Harold was in uniform and Butch liked that a lot. They were both
serious men and they hit it off. Harold had also found out that the bar and
grill with the false front was a well-known place to hire prostitutes.

Butch and Harold knew I am gay, and it didn't take Butch to guess Harold's
preferences. I decided to play cupid. "I need to take a shower and get to
bed," I said.

"Do you need some help getting in the tub?" Butch asked.

"I can do it myself, but some help is always welcome," I said. Harold
looked disappointed. "I don't think there is room for three in the shower,
but I bet we could work something out if you want Harold."

It was a tight squeeze, but the combination of mutual attraction and three
erections made it work. We showered. Harold soon discovered that Butch was
a generous bottom. Harold was a novice top. I provided a few tips and they
soon were interconnected. It seemed to me that they were compatible. I
played a coach or advisor. Harold discovered the joys of fucking and I had
a chance to sample Butch's ball juices. I had fucked Butch, but I was a
little too big for him. He was a macho man who would never admit that, but
Harold was a perfect fit. Butch had a spectacular orgasm. Let's just say
being fucked to an orgasm while he was being sucked dry was a success.

I went to the Police headquarters the next morning. They had a problem. The
combination of the ACME Rentals and At Your Service was turning into a
major criminal organization. ACME Rental seemed to provide transport for
many criminal enterprises. At Your Service was involved in prostitution,
drugs and blackmail. These were more extensive than expected and might be
connected to big-time organized crime. The police wanted to investigate
further. They wanted to let things develop, hunting for more important
arrests.

I was concerned with the safety of the Ballet dancers. I understood what
the Police wanted, but I thought that a successful attack on a dancer was
too big a risk. We had a heated discussion. I am a private detective, so I
can not arrest anyone. The police thought they could both protect the
dancers and get ACME and At Your Service.

When I got back to my door keeping duties, the ballet's staff was in an
uproar. Basil was dead, an apparent suicide. To say I had doubts
understated the case.

The school continued classes and preparations for the performance, in the
"show must go on" tradition continued, but it was a shock. Elizabeth took
over the director's position. That afternoon during the 2:00 lull between
classes. A man named Darwin came to see me. He had been Basil's valet and
gave me a manila envelope with my name on it.

There was a note and a letter.  The letter said:

I have solved the immediate problem. Revenge is a dish best served cold. I
will be very cold by the time you do the serving. Help if you can.

Basil.

A second letter was a blackmail note. It demanded $100,000.00 or the
enclosed photo would reach the police and the press. The photo was of
Basil, full frontally nude, and a naked ten or twelve-year-old girl.

I am not expert at photo shopped images, but it took me less than fifteen
minutes to find shadows in two directions. I burst out laughing when I saw
the most obvious flaw. The cock was circumcised, Basil wasn't. Sometimes my
sex life proves to be useful.

Basil was an ineffectual but intelligent man. He knew that the photo would
be proved to be fake. He also knew that rumors and chatter could ruin his
life and the ballet company. The rumor that he had molested young girls was
enough. Even when falsehood is disproved, the after taste remains. There is
a "where there is smoke, there is fire" group that will never accept
truth. I think that blackmail induced suicide is murder. Linda was going to
Richmond and I asked her to give the note and photo to my people. They were
good and might find some clues.

At 6:30, Butch went to ACME to rent a van. It was after hours and he
occupied the only man there for a half-hour, while Eddie put a magnetic
tracking chips on all the vehicles.  We would know where a van was going,
and when a van was near the Ballet. I felt a little better.

Butch is a good-looking man if you like men who are a bit rough around the
edges. The guy at ACME liked Butch a lot and they went to a bar to eat
after closing. The next morning Butch reported to me.

The guy, named Marty, was the man who washed and cleaned the Vans. While he
didn't have a clue about what was going on, he did notice things. Marty
noticed the pretty women and men who used the vans. He knew a guy who
picked up the vans was named Lonnie.  He always complained the vans weren't
clean enough. Carl, who owned ACME always knocked of $50.00 for Lonnie.

Lonnie didn't know the price always was jacked up for him. Marty noticed
that Carl did not put Lonnie's money into the cash register. He put it in
his wallet. Usually Carl was the last man to leave the office. When the
passengers were girls, he would drive. Sometimes he drove the van back to
the office in the morning.

"Would Marty tell Carl about your conversation?" I asked.

"Carl apparently doesn't like talking to underlings, and Marty is the most
under of the underlings," Butch said. "I think Marty would help us, but I'm
not sure."

"Is he smart enough to not get caught? I asked.

Butch nodded. "No. He's okay, but cleaning cars may be about as much as he
can do. He's not a rocket scientist."

"I have run into that situation before. I think it would be too dangerous
for him to play detective," I said. "Carl sounds like a sweetheart. Marty
is no match."

"That is sort of what I was thinking," Butch said. "We sort of connected."

"Is that a nice way of saying he got his entire cock in your ass," I
asked. I knew Butch's sexual tastes well.

"Marty isn't that smart, but he has a nice cock. It's as long as yours, but
a lot thinner," Butch said. I told him to be careful.

The rest of the day was a quiet by Ballet standards. A good portion of the
staff and performers were frantic or hysterical, but that was
normal. Elizabeth had a calming influence. She didn't dislike Basil, but he
wasn't helpful running things day by day. He was there because of his late
mother.

At the end of the day, she came to me in tears. "I had a call from Basil's
lawyer. He left us thirty million," she said. "I know it sounds trashy, but
had I known it was thirty million, I would have been nicer to him."

"Basil knew what he was. He could have made something of his life, but that
would have taken more effort than he was willing to expend," I said. "He
was what he was and was not going to change. He wasn't bad, just
aimless. I'm afraid having a life beyond parties and vacations was not in
his future."

"You have a note from him?" she asked.

I nodded. "It wasn't a suicide note or a confession. There was doctored
photograph and a note. It could have been a problem, but he was
blameless. You had nothing to do with his death," I said.

That night I thought about Basil. It was easier for him to take an overdose
of pills than endure week or months of embarrassment. If he could spare his
mother's organization from embarrassment, it was an easy choice for him.

I woke in the middle of the night. We had missed something, What if the
perpetrator was woman? The combination of perfume and mothballs stuck in my
head. Was it a shakedown?  If you pay us, the incidents will stop?  We had
no sightings of the perpetrator except for the stabbing. Could there have
been no sightings because we were looking for a man, a sexual deviate? Were
there women nearby who escaped notice?

The only violence occurred when Anna's father interrupted the event. The
stabbing may have been a defensive reaction, not planned or intended.

If protection money was the objective, the stabbing ended that
possibility. The doctored photograph may have been a way to get money
another way. What chance was there that two crimes involving the same
institution were unrelated? That was a possibility, but as Damon Runyon
said, the race is not always to the swift, but that is not the way to bet.
There might be a link.

The victim, Susan, had been calm until her mother arrived. Her mother
showed up at he scene ten minutes after the event. Anna was an in control
girl who rose to the occasion when her father was stabbed. Susan was calm
until her mother arrived, then she became hysterical.

Drama and hysteria were everywhere at the Ballet. A good actor can change
in a second when he or she goes onstage.  Susan had turned on a dime. I
know that people have different reactions to traumatic situations. Some
people freeze, some panic, some race to help.  I also know that some people
have delayed reactions. They stay in control during the event, but become
emotional hours or days later.

I hade been so involved with the bleeding man, I hadn't observed the
victim, Susan. Susan was an unknown to me. Her Mother I knew. I didn't know
her personally, by I knew her a type. She was a drama queen who needed to
have all the attention on her. I would tell Harold about my suspicion