Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2017 15:34:35 -0500
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Joins the Ballet 4

Catfish Joins the Ballet 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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Harold came by at 6:30 on his way to work. I gave him the information I had
collected.  He appreciated the clues. He had to sign in at 7:30 and he
usually had time for a quick blow job. Marty, Butch and Dick were an
embarrassment of riches for him. He had time to fuck Dick and Butch as I
let Marty's cock tickle my prostate.

Marty was almost as hairy as I am, but since he was eight inches taller
than me, it wasn't as noticeable. His cock was uncut, long and thin. It was
an easy fit, and it was nice to feel his bulbous knob exploring my ass. I
got him to slow up a few times, so he wouldn't shoot off to quickly. He had
been fucking the night before, but he seems to have a full-blown orgasm.

Harold wanted to take him to the police station to look at photos and
closed-circuit TV. He knew all the ACME employees and as well as the men
who picked up the vans. All four men left. I showered and dressed. Someone
knocked on my door. It was the Deputy Police Chief.

"You are Catfish?" he asked. I nodded. "I am Deputy Chief Masterman. I have
been talking with your friends in the Richmond Police. They say you are a
good man."

"I've worked with them for years," I said.

"They said you have some unorthodox contacts," he said. "We don't have good
relationships with the sort of people you associated with. We have a
history."

"That is typical," I said.

"We are after big time crime, not alternative love," he said. "We think
ACME and At Your Service are tied into major criminal organizations. We are
not going to out anyone or expose anyone. We aren't going to arrest anyone
for minor infractions. You may know that several members of the City
Council are ultra-conservative and born-again. We are after criminals, not
alternate lifestyles."

"That may be helpful," I said. "It is easier to talk to someone who is a
member of the club. I have never seen any difference between beating up
your girlfriend and beating up your boyfriend.  A crime is a crime
regardless of sex."

"What is your read on the situation?" he asked.

"You know I am here because of the Ballet. I am thinking that the ballet is
a side issue," I said.  "Somehow the crime doesn't match the number of
deaths. Basil thought it was a prank at first. I thought it was a sexual
deviate and then a blackmail scheme. I wonder if something went wrong, and
maybe someone is trying to clean up the mess."

"I suspect that ACME and At Your Service are small fry," Chief Masterman
said. "ACME is a criminal taxi service. They are small fry, but they know a
lot and have seen a lot."

"Well, At Your Service is a front for prostitution. That could be
associated with white-slavery, illegal immigration and drug dealing," I
suggested. "Once you are in the smuggling business it doesn't make much
difference what you smuggle."

"We have known Lonnie and kept an eye on him for years. His mother was a
political force in the city and provided discounted receptions and parties
for the police. You know, retirement banquets and police athletic league
type events. Lonnie was a bartender at these events and made friends. His
mother is dead as are most of the guys he gave free drinks to," the Chief
said. "For a while he got a pass on the prostitution.  There is suspicion
that policemen were the beneficiaries of Lonnie's sideline."

"Things have moved on from fancy ladies and booze?" I asked.

"Things seem to have moved on big time," he said. "We need to get him and
whatever he is involved in as soon as possible." We talked a little longer
and he left. I went to the Ballet and it was a madhouse. The performance
was a day away, and everyone seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown.

Everyone except for Elizabeth. She was solid as a rock and when she gave an
order everyone obeyed without comment. Susan came to do her part. She was
the head dancer in one of the interludes.  Her father came with her, and
stayed throughout the final rehearsals. He apparently had oodles of unpaid
overtime and vacation time due to him. He sat with me, since he didn't fit
into the cluster of mothers who sat in the audience.

Susan's father, Dallas, was a straightforward, hardworking redneck. He had
married because he had knocked up Susan's mother. Susan was born two months
early and weighing eight pounds. Dallas put one and one together, but he
loved the baby, and stayed married for four years. Dallas and his mother
provided stability for Susan's life. Susan might not have been his
daughter, but he was her father.

Somehow Susan admitted to him the attack had been a joke. Her mother wanted
to teach the other mothers a lesson for not treating her as she deserved.
She later told Susan it was a scam intended to get money from the
ballet. The stabbing was unintentional. The knife was intended to add to
the reality of the joke.  Susan loved the ballet, it had been one of the
few bright lights in her life.  She was horrified at what had happened.
Dallas was afraid his daughter would end up arrested and in a home for
girls.

I told him I thought the police were more interested in finding her
mother's murderer than solving an abortive blackmail scheme.

We were joined by Gordon Appleby, who was recovering from his
wounds. Gordon was a nice guy and told him how sorry he was about Susan's
mother's death. During a break Anna and Susan came over to us.

"Daddy, Susan has something she has to tell you," Anna said to her
father. Gordon looked puzzled. Dallas looked terrified. Susan tearfully
told the whole story. Once and a while you get lucky. Gordon understood.

A little later a Police woman interviewed Susan with her father and a
lawyer present. Susan was 14, so arrest was not a real option. The fake
attack scheme was improbable, but Dallas said that Susan's mother was the
queen of improbable get rich schemes. While her father and grandmother had
a firm grip on reality, Roberta lived in la-la land. She was constantly on
the verge of marrying a millionaire, or going to inherit a fortune.

Susan was teenager now and was getting suspicious, but she went along with
the fake attack. She didn't know that her mother had a knife and she
thought the stabbing was acting. She had been calm because she thought it
was an act and became hysterical when he realized it was real blood. Her
mother became hysterical when she realized she had stabbed the man. She
thought she had missed.

He mother had been seeing a man she called Uncle Rodney. He came to see
Roberta almost every night. When Susan walked in on them, they stopped
talking and began whispering. Susan assumed they were planning the next
date.  Susan assumed that a date was the same as intercourse. She thought
Rodney's last name was Bowler or Bowling.

We had more good luck. Marty, Butch's friend, was not bright. He could live
on his own and earn a living, but cleaning cars was about as far up the
employment ladder he would go.  He was friendly and pleasant. He was also
one of those men who never forget a face. Carl, the owner at ACME kept him
after hours to please his clients. They might complain the car wasn't clean
enough, or something had been missed. Marty was there to do touch-up. Marty
didn't often know the names of the clients, but he remembered the faces as
well as the date and time.

He remembered this because Carl tried to screw him out of paying over
time. Marty marked down the times in a little book. Marty picked out the
faces of eight men from the mugshot books. The police knew who they were,
and knew who they worked for. These men weren't involved in the Ballet
case, but they provided leads.

The focus of the investigation had moved on to other things. The Ballet was
no longer the primary focus. I wasn't sure I was needed anymore, but
Elizabeth wanted me to stay on until the performance was over.  Harold was
reassigned to the ACME investigation and I had a new contact to the Police,
Delmont Jones.

Delmont played the role of a country boy in the big city, and worked on
scams. He had an "Shucks, look at all the tall buildings" air about him. He
was medium height, thin and gangly. Delmont seemed nice. I told him what
was going on.

"I am pretty much up to date. Masterman gave me a full rundown. Harold and
I are pals from way back. He told me we would get long," Delmont said. "You
have Marty staying in your apartment? I need a place to use as home base
during the day, is your apartment available?"

"If Marty is okay with it," I said.

That night we had the dress rehearsal at the ballet. It went well, and
Elizabeth was happy with the production. The theater emptied quickly. All
the dancers and staff were gone by ten. No one lingered, and parents were
prompt.  Elizabeth had a rule that everyone would get a full night's sleep
the night before the opening. She felt the possible advantage of last
minute practice was wiped out by exhaustion. I was at my apartment by
10:30.

Delmont had made himself at home and made friends with Butch and Marty. The
Police wanted Marty out of sight until arrests were made. Butch was working
on getting Marty a job in Richmond. Richmond and Norfolk are less than 100
miles apart, but very different cities. He would be safer in Richmond.

There was one major change in the apartment. Marty was a neat freak. My
apartment was a crash pad and a mess. He had cleaned everything. Clothes
and dishes were washed and put away. Somehow the slight aroma of the
previous owners had vanished. You could use the toilet as a
punchbowl. While the place didn't have my own special flair, I liked it.

Butch had intimated to the guys that I liked to use orgasms as a sleeping
pill. They were willing to try out the therapy. He suggested we find out if
my tub-shower could hold four guys.

I was surprised that Delmont was a muscle man naked. He was bald, had a Fu
Manchu, and wore badly fitting clothes. I hadn't guessed. Butch told us
that Marty had some bad experiences being fucked. Butch never had a bad
experience with a cock in his ass.

"I'm all top unless I get inspired," Delmont said. "I can be flexible in
the right situation. I can be a team player." There was another
surprise. Marty had been raised in a group home with a man who was short a
leg. He effortlessly supported me as we showered. The man at the home was
gay and Marty knew how combine sex with support.

At one point, Marty had his cock in my ass as Butch sucked me while Delmont
fucked him. I usually feel insecure in the shower. Marty had his arms
firmly around me as his cock worked its magic in my ass. I could relax.

Marty had little experience as a top, but he learned quickly. After a
while, Delmont traded places with Marty. Delmont's tool was a little
shorter than Marty's, but much thicker. Delmont supported more of my weight
on his tool.  That was intense for me. He was a strong man and holding me
steady was effortless.

Marty liked Butch a lot, and he glowed as he slid deep into Butch. Delmont
had used his cock to deeply lubricate the hole and Marty loved that. He
shot off and pulled out. Butch stood up, turned his back to me and impaled
himself on my cock. Delmont must have shot a big load. It was smooth as
silk as I slid in. We came close to having a triple orgasm. When I felt
Delmont shooting, I popped, and Butch came a few seconds later. We got out
of the shower and dried off. Butch and Delmont went home.  Marty stayed
with me.

We were feeling mellow and talked. Marty had met his friend at the home
when he was fifteen. His friend, Henry, was older but had been in a car
accident and had little strength in his arms and his single leg. They were
roommates and Marty liked to be helpful.  Henry had been a teacher and he
was willing to spend every opportunity to help Marty, teaching him to read
and write. Eventually they had their own apartment and Marty joined the
workforce.  Henry died but Marty was able to live on his own.

Marty enjoyed his sexual experiences with Henry, but other men weren't as
good. The after closing visitors to ACME took advantage of him.  It was
often a quick blow job or fuck with no please and thank you.

Buster was like Henry sexually, but more versatile. Butch introduced him to
new sexual experiences and took his time. Butch was aggressively macho, but
he liked the sensual excitement of sex, not only the orgasm. When Marty ate
Butch's sperm, Butch returned the favor.  Henry had loved Marty's cream and
like Henry, Butch liked the bottom.

It was getting late, so I went to bed. Marty slept on the couch, but when I
woke up, Marty was there.

This was the day of opening night of what would be a four-performance
run. Butch was there early, and he scared away some
undesirables. Panhandlers and troubled persons find big events
attractive. There are people with money to be panhandled, and there are
mentally troubled people who like a big audience. In general, these
activities aren't illegal, but they bother the audience. Butch is a big man
and looks intimidating. He can do much more than just look intimidating,
but that is usually not necessary.  If someone tried to mug anyone, Butch
would make sure their criminal career would be very short.

As usual the Police provided the official security, my guys were in the
alleys and dark places. Muggings and rapes were our main concerns. That was
usually a problem for those who stayed late and straggled home. Stragglers
were easy pickings.

The performance went well. It was a good combination of amateur and
professional dancers. We had slews of mothers, fathers, and grandparents to
watch the kids. Elizabeth had insured that each young dancer had a
designated person to take them home. Elizabeth was a leader of men, and ran
a tight ship. Since I was the stage door man, I made sure no one left the
building alone.

We had three badly behaved drunks and one disturbed man who had found god
in an unattractive way.  There also was a group of rednecks being
assholes. Butch took care of them without any actual injury, but the
ringleader of the group suffered considerable pain.

I was back at the apartment by 11:00. Harold, Delmont and Marty were
there. Harold told us that Marty's identifications of ACME's clients had
opened a can of criminal worms. A quick visit to the Police Station was
enough for these underlings to incriminate the leaders. Hard drugs, pills,
child prostitution, blackmail and illegal immigration were all
involved. The immigration seemed to involve selling women from Central
Europe, Asia and South America as brides. Some of these brides seemed to
more like slaves the wives.

This was standard police procedure to start from the bottom and move up the
operation. They also contacted the FBI since many of the crimes crossed
state borders.

Delmont thought that ACME and At Your Service had been spooked so it was
time to move in on them. Carl and Lonnie were higher up the crook food
chain than the men who drove the vans. They faced liability for tax evasion
and felonies.  The tax problem meant fines and months in jail.  The other
crimes could mean years in the pen.

There was a knock at the door and Tony joined the group. "I ran into Lonnie
this afternoon. He was at the bank, closing his accounts there. He wanted a
cashier's check. I think he is planning a vacation, he said. "The branch
manager is a friend of mine. He told me he wanted checks for
$9,990.00. Over ten thousand would require the transaction be reported. He
closed seven accounts."

Harold was on the phone before Tony finished.  He and Delmont were on the
way to Police headquarters immediately.

"Well, that caused a stir," Tony remarked. He looked around and saw
Marty. He looked him over with obvious approval. "Who's your pal?"

"Tony, meet Marty. He's staying with me for a few days," I said. They shook
hands.

"It's late, so let me be direct. Are we all members of the same
fraternity?" Tony asked. "Is Marty taken?"

"Marty is a free agent," I said.

Tony looked at Marty. "Is there any chance you would like to have sex with
a fat, hairy guy?" I had to admit, Tony's pick-up line lacked finesse. That
didn't seem to bother Marty.

Marty looked at me. "Is that okay with you?" he asked.

"Sure, Marty's okay," I said. We went to the bedroom.

"Marty, I want to warn you. I am really hairy," Tony said. "Some guys get
turned off. I understand if you aren't interested."

"Some guys think I'm too hairy. They laugh at me," Marty said.

"Some guys did that to me too," Tony replied. The three of us looked a
little like the three monkeys illustrating the "See no Evil, Hear no Evil,
Say no Evil" proverb. Tony was careful with Marty. I had a feeling that
Tony, who was short and beefy, didn't connect with young guys much. He was
usually all top, but when Marty's dong touched his buttocks, Tony shifted
to give better access.

I could tell that Marty's long, thin cock slid in easily and was more
successful than Tony expected. He was wiggling and rotating his ass to
massage the probe. Tony was sucking me as Marty pumped. Marty shot
off. Tony continued sucking, and took my load. Marty had pulled out and I
managed to sit on Tony's cock. When I pulled off, Marty took my place.
Tony had a short, thick tool and that was not a problem. He shot off in
Marty. Marty dismounted and gave my cock a try. I have a short recharge
time and was hard.

Tony's cock was short, but as thick as mine. I could tell that it was
working its magic as Marty impaled himself on it. He was in charge. He set
the pace and depth of penetration. After his ass had swallowed six inches I
knew he wouldn't be happy until it was all in him. I shot off in him, fell
asleep and woke the next morning when the phone rang.

It was Harold. When the police raided his house, Lonnie was dead. It was
staged as a suicide. Lonnie was still holding the gun. He was on his back
with a wound in his forehead. The quality of Norfolk hit men was poor. The
would in his head was an exit wound. He had been shot in the back of his
head, a rare occurrence in suicide. There were no powder burns.