Date: Wed, 1 Dec 2021 06:44:40 -0500
From: Bob <rwinarch47@gmail.com>
Subject: Intimate Investigations Part 2

Intimate Investigations 2
 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

William Wallace gave me buckets of information. He knew who was being
extorted or threatened, and who was ACME's man in charge of criminal
activities, Rob Constantine. William assumed that was a fake name.
Constantine directly reported Bubba Billings and Miller Bruce.

I also got all the prints and picture files from his computer. I would
destroy all of those when the job was done.

William Wallace lived in the back room of the office. His room had a bed, a
hot plate, small refrigerator, two chairs and a table. His business had not
taken off. Vanishing without a trace was not a problem for him. I went to
my office an did some computer searches. Constantine had many run-ins with
the law, mostly blackmail and embezzlement but only one conviction.
Blackmailers count on their victims fear of exposure.

I found an article in a Tennessee newspaper mentioning him related to
contractor's bankruptcy due to embezzlement. Constantine was then a
bookkeeper. That was the sort of thing that ACME's president, Miller Bruce
might like to know. I sent a copy to Bruce, with Constantine's name
circled. I sent it from the Norfolk main post office to avoid and clues.
There is no honor among thieves, so I was hoping ACME might implode.

I went to the Stars and Bars on Friday evening. I had a beer or two and
wandered to the back room. There were comparatively few men in the front
bar. The back bar was crowded. I had another beer there and then went to
the shower room. There were two or three men per shower head. I didn't see
anyone I had met before. My friend-maker hanging between my legs cast its
spell.

A solid, bearded, hairy man came over to me and asked if he could share my
showerhead. I said sure. He said he was Doug. I told him my name and said I
was looking for a job and was thinking I might try construction.

"I work for ACME Construction, but I wouldn't recommend it if you are
looking for long term work," he said. "It's not a place that's good if you
want steady work."

"You're working there. It can't be that bad." I said.

"I guess you could say I have some lifestyle problems," Doug said. "I have
a problem with Demon Rum. The better firms are too picky to take me." He
was staring at my cock, and he was beginning to show hard.

"Everyone has some sort of a problem," I said and then I added in a
whisper, "I have a problem keeping my cock zipped up and out of sight."

"I have a tight, warm place where you can hide it," Doug said. Fifteen
minutes later we were on our way to his apartment.

Doug was just a guy, about my age. He thought I was a good-looking,
well-hung man. He was a bottom and wanted to be a size queen, but he hadn't
been able to attract a big one. The second I pushed my cock deep into his
ass he was mine. I hit previously untouched places in his ass that sent him
to moon.

Doug was an accountant, not a construction worker. He was unhappy with his
job, and that is good for a private eye. He was in the accounts receivable
and payroll department. There was a separate corporate section that was
directly associated with the president. Doug said he was surprised when he
happened to see a corporate report, the numbers didn't correlate with his
numbers.

Our conversation was disjointed because I had to keep on fucking him, and
it was hard to stay focused on the accounting problems while I was
ejaculating. Neither Doug nor I complained about the ejaculation induced
interruptions.

Doug wasn't my dream date, but it's hard to ignore a man with an ass
tightly wrapped around my cock. I don't fall in love, but my cock had a
different opinion. Technically, cocks don't think or have opinions. My cock
loved Doug, and my balls thought his ass was a good place to deposit my
sperm.

Doug was begging me to go deeper into him. I thought that was impossible,
but as Doug relaxed, I seemed to go deeper. His sphincter gripped my cock
tightly, so even after I shot off, I stayed hard. I flopped him over, got
his legs on my shoulders and continued fucking.

Surprisingly, fucking him from this position was a new experience. His cock
was rock hard and drooling precum. His cock wasn't huge, but it was what I
called a nice piece of meat. I wondered what his load would taste like.

"Could you slow up a little?"  he asked. "I need to catch my breath."

"Do you want me to pull out?" I asked.

"Shit no!" he cried. "Just take it slow." I slowed my thrusts.

"I didn't know fucking could be thus good," he said a minute or two later.
"I've been fucked a few times before, but I was nothing like your fucking.
It hurt the first time; it was sort of okay the other times. You've been
unbelievable." He squeezed his sphincter tightly.

I moaned and asked if he wanted to cum in him again.

"I could feel you squirting, it was beautiful. I've never felt that
before," he said.

"If I shoot off again, could I take a brake and suck you dry?" I asked.

"Damn, no one has done that before. I spurted once accidentally, and the
guy hit me. You want it?" he replied. I increased the rate of my thrusts
and shot off a second time, ten minutes later.

When I finished ejaculating, I pulled out and sucked Doug's cock. He soon
tensed up and flooded my mouth with his sweet cum. I take cum, but mostly
to be polite. It has a slightly bitter taste. Doug's cock nectar was creamy
and sweet. Most of all it was plentiful. He was shivering and twitching
with each spurt.

"It's too much, pull off!" he moaned.

I pulled off. "You and I know you don't want that," I said. I licked the
sperm that drooled down his shaft, and then returned to his tender knob. He
didn't complain. He was asleep when I finally stopped sucking him.

I fell asleep too. When I woke Saturday morning, Doug was awake, looking at
me.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I didn't expect to find you here."

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

"No, it just that no one has ever spent the night before," I said. "What
are your plans?"

"I want thinking about a shower, breakfast and then a morning of sucking
and fucking," I said.

"I guess I could postpone going to the grocery store this once," he said
with a smile. We showered and Doug cooked a man's breakfast. It was eggs
served with lots of cholesterol. I was more of a fast-food egg, on a
biscuit, roll, or croissant masterpiece. We talked and I found out about
his life.

Doug was born as eight-pound baby, who was three months premature. His
parents stayed together because divorce was a sin. When they discovered he
was gay, they never spoke to him again. He had been in the army and later
got a degree as an accountant. He had tried the bars but wasn't the beach
boy type and substituted booze for what was lacking in his life.

He told me I was the first nice guy to fuck him and the only guy to take
his load. He wanted to take my load.

I asked if that was another first for him. He said no, he just wanted to
know if taking the load of a guy he liked tasted better than a man he
didn't like. That afternoon he discovered that my sperm was a taste treat.

We talked about his work. Doug was concerned. He was sure that something
illegal was going on, and with his luck, he was afraid he would be the one
to go to jail for it.

ACME was four corporations, two in Virginia, and two out of state. As a
bookkeeper he provided the raw information. A second corporation would
modify and massage the material, and then pass it on the two other
corporations. By that time, the original work was unavailable and all but
untraceable. Nothing could be traced back to Miller Bruce or his pals
without inside knowledge.

Doug was a nice guy with problems. This made him the perfect patsy for the
top men if things fell apart. This was a problem for me. I got this
information between sexual interludes.

While Doug discovered my cock ejaculated to food of the gods directly into
his mouth, I discovered that the hot sex of the night before was not a
fluke. The second my cock penetrated his quivering anus, he was mine. He
loved every twitch, spurt and thrust of my cock. The problem was that my
cock loved his quivering ass. Doug became a hairy, beefy sex toy.

Late that afternoon I discovered another problem. A friend of his, Hal,
called and asked to come over. Doug was going to say he was busy when I
noticed Hal was at the door. I let him in, and said I was leaving.

Hal was a big, brawny, construction worker. He knew the situation
immediately.

"Any chance for a threesome?" Hal asked. I looked at Doug and nodded. We
were all naked five minutes later.

Hal and Doug were suck buddies. I fucked Doug doggy style as he sucked
Hal. Once and a while Hal would relocate so I could suck him. Hal's cock
oozed unexpectedly tasty; beer flavored precum.

During a break I mentioned Doug's precum was a taste treat. Hal said when
he sucked a guy he pulled of when the cock began to drool. He asked if it
was that good. I told him it was sweet and tasty. Sometimes cum was bitter.

A little later, I was on a chair and Doug impaled himself on my cock facing
away from me. Hal got on his knees and sucked Doug's tool. He liked it and
got carried away licking the precum. Doug liked that a lot and Hal got to
taste Hal's cum too.

Doug got up. Sat in an easy chair and promptly fell asleep. Since Hal and I
were free, I sucked Hal. I had to swallow twice when he shot off. His sperm
was sweet with only a hint of Budweiser.

Hal told me Doug was the only one in the bookkeeping department who was
helpful. When Hal didn't get paid for overtime, Doug showed him the records
that failed to include the overtime records. Hal went to see Bubba
Billings. Bubba was a big man, but Hal was bigger. Bubba's enforcers were
big too, but one swat of Bubba's fist could result in internal injuries.
Hal got his overtime. I assumed they could have fired Hal, but a sensible
man would worry who would be injured as a result. It wasn't worth the risk.

With machines, construction doesn't require big men, but a big man can be
useful. Hal held-up a collapsed scaffold and save a life of a man trapped
under it. You wanted to have him on your crew.

Hal went to thank Doug for helping him and they discovered a common
interest.

I went back to my office that night and did computer searches of the
corporate names, and the people I had met. These were useful.

The next day I talked with my accountant, Aaron Kaplan. I described the
ACME operation. Aaron thought the scheme suggested a big operation.

"You have multi-state operations, with multiple filings taxes. That
requires a big organization," he explained. "ACME is a small company. It
would be unlikely they could be independently do this. I wonder if the big
men in charge of this know that ACME is going after nickels and dimes from
their employees? I assume the big boys are unaware of the situation?" I
gave him the names of ACME's four corporations and my documentation. Aaron
knew people who might be interested.

I called Bull Smith and asked if could come by for an update. He came by
that evening. I told him about ACME and what I knew about their road to
success. He told me about the due date for the project had been changed to
a month later, so I had more time. I also told him about the photographs of
ACME's victims. He turned white. I told him I had the photographer's memory
cards and all the copies he made.

The photographer was no fool. He only gave ACME the print outs. They wanted
them right away, so he didn't use a fixative. The images would fade away in
a year or so. The photographer wanted to charge them to get additional
copies in the future.

Bull looked almost sick. "Are you sure you have the originals?" he asked.

"I scared him half to death. I told him that if the shit hit the fan, he
would be the first one to meet an untimely end," I explained.

"Could I get a copy?" Bull asked.

"I can't do that, but if you were to look over the images, I could remove
any images you might find interesting." I said.

"I heard that you are gay?" he said in a whisper.

"Yep." I replied. "I help the members of the fraternity any way I can." We
went to see the images. Bull was in three, with a man I didn't know. With
two clicks they were gone. Since the photo was six months old, it would
have faded.

"You won't tell anyone?" he asked.

"I never betray a member of the club," I replied.

He looked at me for a few seconds. "Do you bottom?" he asked.

"I sure do. I assume you top," I replied.

"I used to. I'm not sure I remember how to do it," Bull said.

"I think it's like riding a bike," I said. We went to the bedroom. Bull was
big and his cock was big too. I'm not a small man, but I had a feeling he
was afraid he might roll over and crush me. we sixty-nined for a while and
then he asked me if I was serious about the bottom.

I said yes and he said he hadn't fucked a guy since the photo appeared. He
was a bit rusty. We talked and eventually I sat on his cock. Bull was the
strong silent type, but he moaned as his cock slid into my behind. His cock
was straight, thick, and long. I began to bounce on it, and he all but
melted. Ten minutes later he shot-off 4th of July style. He went home with
a smile on his face.

He called me the next day to see if I was okay. I said I was fine, and I
would like to connect again. He said he would like that and told me he
slept like a log for the first time in months. I laughed and told him there
was no extra charge since I was paid in sperm.

Just before I was going back to Gold Hill, Aaron called me. Some of the
information I gave him on ACME found its way to federal agents. They seemed
to be casually interested. Aaron was surprised they reacted so calmly.

Later in the day a senior official called to thank him for the information.
That official used the phrase "missing link" several times in the
conversation. Aaron thought they were unaware of ACME since it was small
potatoes. Aaron said he has never talked an official of such a high status.

Two days later I was back at the Stars and Bars. Bob and Junior were in the
showers. We went to Junior's double-wide in a god-forsaken half developed
trailer park. Doug and Hal were bunking with Junior. There has been a fire
at the ACME office, and it had done major damage. As any good bookkeeper
would do, Doug saved the hard drives of the office financial records.

As he put the drives into the trunk of his car, State Troopers and some men
in suits showed a search warrant and took the drives. When Doug went home,
he saw Bubba Billings' car outside his apartment. That was a bad sign. He
saw Hal driving away from the house, so he followed him to Junior's double
wide. Junior had no connection to ACME, and he was way too unattractive to
any of the ACME senior staff.

Hard drives are modern miracles. A small drive can hold vast amounts of
information. Major portions of the drives were password protected, so Doug
has no idea what files they contained. I suspected the Treasury Department
of the FBI would have no problem accessing the information.

The ACME offices were next to warehouses and the storage areas for building
materials. Wood, plastic, and similar items are flammable. Two days later
they found bodies in the executive suite. Dental records identified them as
Miller Bruce, and Rob Constantine. They had been shot.

That surprised me. Since they were burning the buildings, the murderers
could have just knocked them out and it might have been classified an
accidental death due to fire. I had a feeling they had been killed by Bubba
Billings. I wondered if Bruce and Constantine were making a getaway and
expected Billings to take the fall.

Over the next six months major criminal groups on the east coast collapsed
and their leaders arrested. The ACME scam was a minor part of the huge
criminal cartel. Doug's files were the key. Doug and Hal were unemployed.
Doug came to work for me. Bull hired Hal and they got along fine.

The public knew nothing of my role in the case. Aaron knew and Bull knew.
Two months later people who needed my services knew of me. The total lack
of publicity about my role was the best advertising I could have hoped
for. Important people with reputations wanted me to help them.

Several weeks later Fabien Luck called me. he owned a brokerage house for
high income persons. He had a trivial but embarrassing problem. he asked if
he could come by and speak to me. He was using a burner phone which could
not be traced. We arranged to meet. This became my next investigation.