Date: Sun, 9 Jun 2019 21:10:26 -0400
From: Bob <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Catfish Has a Death in the Family 4

Catfish Has a Death in the Family 4

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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Gilbert had a slick line of conversation carefully guaranteed to appeal to
a low information client. He said he had a special group of professionals
who would analyze my properties. He said the government appraisers inflated
assessments to get higher real estate taxes; his people would get a real
assessment. His fee even with the extra services would be half the usual
real estate agency fees.

He also said he knew several men looking for farms who might be interested.
Gilbert mentioned that some paid in cash and that was difficult for the
Feds to trace. I figured he was after the anti-government, slightly sleezy
types who cheated on taxes. They were so busy trying to short-change the
government they wouldn't notice Gilbert was cheating them.

If I was committing tax fraud and similar crimes that would deter Gilbert's
victims from reporting the scam. I noticed the victims hadn't gone to the
police. After chatting for an hour, we made an appointment for next week to
hear Gilbert's analysis.

On the way back to Richmond asked my new driver Duff if he know anyone go
worked on some of the questionable farms.  He said he would check.  I also
stopped by Buddy's farm. He wasn't home but his son Randy was home.  He was
always helpful and knowledgeable. He was the oldest child when his mother
left and died so he helped his father on the farm and helped raise his
bothers and sisters with some help from my mother.

I never thought of myself as a problem child. I did realize that I was not
everyone's idea of the perfect child, and I did note comments like, `What
did she do to deserve that," and "Everyone has a cross to bear," were made
behind her back.

I knew when I had done something bad and I shouldn't do it again. I also
knew that when I had a "sit down" with Uncle Jake, I had done something
very bad. Mom said that doing something bad once was a mistake, doing it
twice was forgetting something I should have remembered. We never reached a
third time, but Uncle Jake mentioned my Mom was a good woman who didn't
deserve a son who was that forgetful.

Randy was the dream child. He said he was just lucky, but mom said men make
their own good luck. I asked Randy if he knew any men who worked for one of
Gilbert's farms. He said he would check it out.

Two nights later I was at the local Motel when Randy knocked on the door
with three pals he introduced as Montague, Jamerson and Pedro. Montague
worked on a poultry farm. Jamerson and Pedro worked on pig farms.

"I'm sorry Catfish, I sort of told the guys about you and they wanted to
meet you," Randy said.

"Randy said you were super hung," Jamerson said. "I like to see something
before I believe it."

"I don't like showing all my cards, unless everyone is showing too," I
replied. When dealing with young sophisticates, I like to meet fire with
fire.

Randy looked at his pals.  "Are you guys willing to do a little show and
tell?"

"Do we get to touch?" Jamerson asked.

"I'm not much on the touchy-feely stuff. It's a waste of time," I said. "I
don't mind some tongue action. Some licking and maybe swallowing."

"Damn Randy, he is a good sport!" Jamerson replied.

Maybe it's not a surprise that I seem to know the way to a red neck's
heart.  I think I have mellowed after years in Richmond, but if I have
mellowed, Randy's pals hadn't noticed. They came in the room and
stripped. I think of myself as an ugly old coot with a cock. I was clear
they saw a cock with something attached to it. I don't want to seem
superficial, but that is fine with me.

Some cock sucking and precum licking makes friends quickly. You can't be
standoffish when you've just sucked a guy's cock. Pedro was the only shy
one in the group. I motioned to come over to me. Once he was in range, I
sucked his uncut tool.  He had black hair, a sparse beard and a smooth,
muscular body. I tasted a trace of soap when I sucked his foreskin into my
mouth.  The second my tongue licked his piss slit his cock doubled in size.

Pedro's cock had been okay; it became a beauty. It was a perfect
recreational cock, thin and long. Jameson was a good sucker. Montague acted
as if he had found the Holy Grail when he saw my cock. Randy was rock hard
but held back. He knew his Dad and I had been close. I wasn't going to push
it.

We all had a good time, alternating sexual interludes with
conversation. Randy was president of the local farmers association. It
provided help to farmers and some medical help for farm workers. A local
doctor provided medical help at clinic sponsored by the Association. Randy
coordinated the clinic's work with Father Julio, Juan and Rev. and
Mrs. Williams.  Many of the new workers were Mexican or Latin American and
trusted a Priest.

Randy and Jamerson were friends from high school and they shared sexual
interests. Jamerson was a randy fellow and he found Montague and
Pedro. Jamerson had been the class clown in high school and that had not
been a good first step on the path to success. Combining that with his
sexual preferences and a taste for beer was not good. He found Montague and
Pedro and found true love. They liked him.

Jamerson worked for Hill Top Farm, and they worked at Oak Tree Farm. They
were owned by the same corporation. Jamerson spoke Spanish, one of his rare
successes at school. He had been a suck up to his teachers in school and
had developed a two-faced approach to the farm managers. He was a harmless
beer-sodden drunk, who could speak Spanish. In short, he was a dream come
true for the managers.

Jamerson steered workers who needed medical help to Randy's group. There
they might meet Father Julio, Juan and the Williamses. This gave the
workers a way to get their stories out.

Pedro had up to date information on recruiting and smuggling. Montague
worked in the company store as a clerk. Montague knew the suppliers for the
store and the scams used to cheat the employees. Jamerson visited the farm
office and knew where the records were kept. All this information had to be
kept secret.

It wasn't of much interest to the local authorities, but state officials
would be interested. Juan knew other interested parties.  Most of the
people running the farms were from out of state. The people running things
locally were from Mississippi. Since they knew few local people, it was
easy to keep things quiet.

The biggest problem with crooks is that they are crooks. When you are
involved in a big scam, you should concentrate on that. Cooks have a need
to screw everyone. The nickel and dimes they took from the employees were
insignificant financially. There was no loyalty from the employees to the
owners. They also tended to cheat local suppliers.  If things went bad for
the owners there would be no one on their side.

All the men knew Randy. Randy was a standard, garden variety closeted
gay. Pedro was new to the scene.  Montague was inexperienced, but more than
eager to learn more. Jamerson was the most experienced of the group, but I
suspected he might not remember much. I guessed he needed a lot of beer to
get into it big time.

My level of sexual experience out stripped theirs, but my cock isn't useful
for the introduction to gay sex class. Templeton said my cock was best
experienced in a graduate level class. I knew that, but I tend to feel
generous. I had a strong suspicion that Montague was a size queen; Jamerson
looked well used and I guessed would play with anyone who had a cock and
Pedro would be polite.

The human mind can do strange things. I assumed Jamerson's ass was well
used and wondered if it was still tight. I knew Montague wanted my cock in
him. Pedro was nervous and I thought a nice orgasm in my mouth would solve
that problem.

I wasn't sure how far they wanted to go, but Montague solved the problem.

"Catfish, how far do you want to go? I'm willing," he said as he put his
arm around Pedro. "My Buddy Pedro isn't into it, but I like it big
time. Now Jamie likes to do a pole dance, but his ass is so callused from
overuse it might be hard to force your cock through the calluses."

"It ain't that bad Monty!" Jamerson objected. The men laughed.

"Hey guys, I need to get you back to the farms.  It's getting late. Catfish
gives rain checks, so let's get going," Randy said. The men did as he
asked. Randy was the top man on the totem pole.

A minute or two after they left, Father Julio knocked on my door. "I see
you had visitors," he said. I asked him in and told him about my
discussion.

"Do you think they are in danger?" he asked.

"I wouldn't say they were safe, but I would guess they are too far down the
totem pole to concern the upper tier people," I replied. "I would guess you
and Juan are in more danger. I met Gilbert and Brandy. If they are to top
guys in the organization, you are safe. Gilbert struck me as being a used
car salesman with aspirations."

Father Julio smiles. "I hope you didn't think I was avoiding you at the
party. I appreciate your help, but I am uneasy," he said. "I seem to be
more available with men I haven't known."

"Don't worry about that. Everyone has his own pace," I said. "Have you ever
connected with a man you feel affection for?"

Julio was silent. "Thinking back, I don't think so," he replied.

"I'm an over sexed man and affection isn't always involved. I can tell you
that when it is involved sex is a different animal. You want to please him,
and he wants to please you. It's good when a man wants you in his ass and
thinks your sperm is a gift, not a byproduct of lust."

"I don't think I could do that," he replied.

I smiled and said, "I can assure you that you can do it.  Every man can do
it." We talked a little longer and Father Julio left.

While I was working onto Gilbert's good graces, Juan was gathering
information with the help of Father Julio and Rev. Williams. Rev. Williams
was the front man for them and his wife. An All-American Protestant
minister had more street cred with authorities than Spanish speakers or a
woman. Williams had a knack for bringing up difficult subjects in a way
that made them clear.  There was usually only one right answer once
Williams discussed things. Juan's group had connections to larger and more
influential groups.

My second meeting with Gilbert was good. Whatever you might think of him,
his stunning lack of originality was refreshing. Every tool from the
conman's forty-year-old bag of tricks was used. Reports from "experts,"
altered statistics and endearing stories about his abilities to save and
save big on his fees were trotted out. He had a report from a soils
consulting firm indicating the land had been over farmed. While he could
save on fees, the purchase price was ignored.

I asked if any of his contacts might be interested in discussing price. I
thought maybe a list of possible buyers would be good. Gilbert told me
there were several large operations that had brochures and prospectuses. I
was shocked. I had no idea that my county bumpkin act had been so
convincing. He asked Brandy to get any information they had on my prospects
from the file.

Brandy was wearing her professional businesswoman clothes today. She had
opted for the "Marion the Librarian" look. I think she may have used a
trowel to put on her makeup, but I appreciated the effort. As we talked,
Duff, my driver encountered Phil Dorchester having lunch at a café-gas
station. It was supposed to look like an old-time country store. That
wasn't convincing but it was clean, and the food was edible.

Phil was at a table on the porch and Duff asked if he could take a
seat. Luckily Phil liked to talk. "Is this the best place to eat in town?"
Duff asked. Duff had his cell phone on record.

"It's the best and only place to eat," Phil replied. "The other place
closed when this opened. The food here is edible, so the other place
couldn't compete with that."

"I'm working in Richmond now.  There are restaurants everywhere there,"
Duff said.

"I loved it in Richmond, but I fucked up," Phil said.

"You have been exiled to Virginia's Siberia?" Duff said.

"I think the prison guards in Siberia are kinder and gentler than my
current employer," Phil said in a bitter tone.

"I've worked for guys like that. They pay you the bare minimum. I you get
lucky you have enough extra cash to buy a pack of gum once a week," Duff
observed. Unhappy employees were great for investigating suspect
organizations. Phil was just what I wanted.

I went back to the motel to look at the information gave me on potential
buyers. I called my office and talked to the business manager, and the I
called Templeton and Lloyd. I am not a financial guy, so I barely
understood the information.  They did this for a living.

Lloyd was a happy camper.  Templeton told me that Lloyd was a problem
solver. If you had a problem, Lloyd knew who to call and how deal with the
situation. He did favors for many people and they owed him. He had access
to information. Like Templeton, he knew the ways to exchange information in
a way a recording device wouldn't catch. An unknown real estate holding
company wasn't a problem, it was an amusing challenge for him.

I was feeling self-satisfied when I had a call from Randy. Elise Williams
had been in an automobile accident and was hurt. Buddy was on the rescue
squad and had told Randy that something wasn't right.  Her car brakes had
failed. She used Skeeters Auto Repair and had been there two weeks
earlier. Skeeter and Skeeter Jr. didn't make that sort of mistake.

Skeeter was known for two things, his love for Fords, and his beautiful
daughters. He found true love with a Thunderbird in 1957. He was called
"the Ford Whisperer" by those in the know. No one knew why Ellen Donovan
married him; it was a total mystery. Their three daughters were drop dead
gorgeous. Skeeter Jr. inherited his father's obsession with Fords.

"Skeeter just doesn't make mistakes," Randy said, "Mrs. Williams was
driving a `63 Continental inherited from her grandfather. It was a jewel."
I had a hard time understanding the complete faith in Skeeter, but if Buddy
thought something was wrong, something was wrong.

Roger drove in to pick me up at the motel and we went to the accident
site. The car was wrapped around a telephone pole. It was a straight road
and if the brakes were to fail, she could have turned off the engine and
coasted to a stop. The local police and State Troopers were there as was
half the town.

Buddy saw us and came over. He was shaken. "She's alive, but it
serious. Elise has been air lifted to Richmond. Rev. Williams is on the way
to Richmond. It's not similar any accident I have seen. It smells
fishy. Keep this on the low down. There is nothing official yet."

At the manse, half the Presbyterian Women were gathering. If my mother had
been alive, she would have been organizing the scene. Father Julio, the
Williams' children and three ladies from the day care center were walking
towards the house. The church secretary was at the door.

We drove back to my motel past Skeeter's Auto Repair where two police
cruisers were in evidence. The Continental was hauled to the state police
headquarters.

Back at the motel I called my office, Templeton and Lloyd and told them of
the incident. My guy at the office, Bobby said, "Interesting M.O.  Very
distinctive, I will do some searching."

My Mother was a good Presbyterian and conceded the possibility of
predestination. Her view of god was loving, but not tolerant of evil
doers. Late that night Buddy came to see me at the motel.

"Did you know Skeeter is into Ford's big time?" he asked. I nodded. "Well
Mrs. Williams's car is the same basic model as the car Kennedy was in when
he was assassinated. Skeeter had never worked on one before. Mrs. Williams
got the car three months ago when her Granddad died.  She brought it in for
a complete checkup two weeks ago. Skeeter did a complete checkup and fixed
anything wrong or even iffy."

"Could he have missed something" I asked.

"Do you think he would miss the fucking brakes?" Buddy asked. "It's not
just that he fixed everything. He videotaped it."

"You're kidding?"

"Skeeter figured he would never see another one, so he wanted a record. It
a historic model." Buddy said. "He installed new brakes, taped the
installation and the test drive. The brakes were perfect, and road
tested. Skeeter had manuals from the 60ies. The troopers have the tape."

"Skeeter is sick with worry about Mrs. Williams. The police fingerprinted
Skeeter and his people. Skeeter told them where a guy would need to touch
the engine to diddle with the brakes," Buddy concluded. "The trooper
thought Christmas had come early."

"How is Mrs. Williams?"

"Critical, but out of surgery. It's 50/50. The Rev is at the
hospital. Their parents are here with two brothers and three sisters.  Her
mother and a sister and his father are at the hospital. The rest are at the
house. I can't sort them out. One of the brothers is here at the motel,"
Buddy said. "Randy is at the house to help if he can and listening in case
someone says something."

When Buddy left, I went to see Juan and find out if he had any info. He was
with Elise Williams' brother, Don. Don was a lawyer working for a
non-profit group looking into mistreatment of migrant workers. Elise had
worked for the organization before she was married and took up
teaching. That explained a lot of things.

Don was tall, thin, obviously jogged and a member of the fraternity. He
didn't advertize his sexual interest, but I knew. Juan's room was a single
and filled with files and equipment. Don was going to sleep on the floor. I
am nothing but generous and offered him the extra bed. Juan winked at me
when I did that. I think he had exchanged some notes about me with Don. He
picked up his backpack and followed me to my room.

When we got to my room, I asked him if Juan told him anything about me.

"About you detecting skills or your horse cock?" Don replied.

"Since it's getting late, my horse cock might be of more interest. We can
talk about the investigation tomorrow morning," I replied. "I need a shower
can you help me with it. It's not handicapped accessible."

Don smiled and replied, "I am compulsively helpful."

Don knew he was a size queen, but he hadn't known how much of size queen.