Date: Mon, 1 Feb 2016 07:32:52 -0500
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish Goes to Tinseltown 3

Catfish Goes to Tinseltown. 3
By Bald Hairy Man

This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you do not like that, DO NOT
read it! You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, and is
not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual.  I have made no effort
to portray safe sex practices. If you have any comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com

I spent the next day at the studio. I found out that the leadership of the
studio was more out of touch than I had thought. I guess if you are
powerful enough you assume what you say is true. Vandalism and nasty pranks
were more prevalent than Maury assumed. I also found that the knowledge of
my pornographic video career was better known than I would have guessed.

One of the assistant directors, Joseph, had seen me and was clearly
interested. He was the second from the bottom assistant director, very low
on the pecking order. Joseph was someone's cousin, but I didn't know
who. He was also a gossip and he knew everyone. At the end of the day he
asked me to his apartment for a drink.

Joseph wasn't my type. He was swishy and affected.  He was well endowed if
his tight pants were any indication. Joseph was the sort of man who might
pad for affect, but I guessed it was real. I was pretty sure his interest
in my cock was real. I also knew he wasn't interested in me; he just wanted
my cock. He was indiscrete in normal conversation, I assumed he would tell
everything he knew when he was naked and squirming on my cock.

His apartment was high style and I assumed every object had been selected
by a high paid interior designer. In private, he was a little less affected
and much more interested in my cock. He did indeed tell all. "Boy Bomber"
was a total disaster from beginning to end. The script writer was the
director's lover.  The Director was the "special friend" of the studio
head.

Joseph thought the writer was obsessed with violence and pain. He slipped
it by the director due to his skills as a fucker. He told me this as I was
busy working my cock into Joseph's ass. He became less discrete and more
prone to talking. He had a tight but willing ass. It took time to get it
in, but it was worth it.

I know that as far as Joseph was concerned, I was simply an attachment
necessary to keep my cock hard, but I didn't mind. His ass was worth it. He
became wildly excited as I went deeper. When he was fully impaled I began
to thrust slowly. I would almost pull out and then slowly push in as deeply
as I could. That proved to encourage conversation.

Joseph told me that two people at the studio had been hurt during the
filming of Boy Bomber. But he didn't remember who. He thought they were
extras. The director had thought the scene would be more effective if the
blasts were more real. He over did it. OSHA had investigated it, but the
prop man lied and said the explosives were small, and most was added in
post-production by the special effects man.

Once and a while my cock embarrasses me.  I knew Joseph was a light weight
man but I began to like him. My cock was telling me that he must have been
nice since he had such a good ass. It was a wonderful ass, tight, juicy and
quivering. Joseph was superb at squirming, wiggling and rotating his ass. I
couldn't tell if I was fucking him or he was masturbating my cock.

He could do this while spouting every intensely personal bit of gossip at
the studio. Word that I was horse-hung and a top was now generally
known. Apparently no one suspected I was a detective. Human tendencies to
lust, seemed to have overcome suspicions or curiosity. I wnnt home after a
pleasant but not particularly useful interview.

I woke up in the middle of the night. I had made a major misjudgment. I
assumed the pranks and the fire were related. It might well be that the
pranks were one problem, and the arson-death was an entirely different
problem. Perhaps the pranks were a convenient cover for the fire, a
co-incidence. I doubt many pranks result in death. This death was not
accidental. A second question popped up, was the fire or the murder the
main crime? The pranks were simple stupid things. The fire was planned and
intentional.



It seemed to me that pranks might be related to a slight you might have had
in Junior High. As revenge for a death, pranks were too petty. Ruined
careers might fit the bill, but there was a gross imbalance between losing
your job and killing a man.



Juan Escobar was an unlikely victim, but there might be something. Perhaps
he knew or saw something. What would the fire achieve and who would it
hurt?

I thought I would check up on the former Chairman of the Studio, Malcomb
Dewey. He was running a consulting company Apex Talent. I asked Phil want
he knew about the company. "I have no way to get into a talent company. No
looks, no talent and no connections seems like a three strikes and you are
out situation," I said.

"Well, this may be your lucky day!" Phil said, "Officially Apex looks for
quirky and not standard talents. That is because any one who had any real
talent would go to a real talent agency. Apex is one step short of a
scam. The word on the street is that the agency does some of the searching
for new talent for Bang Productions, that is a second tier porn
producer. One of Bang Productions subsidiaries is Manhole. They do very
graphic fuck and seed movies. They want it to look amateur, homemade."

"Malcomb Dewey was very discrete about his sexual interests when he was
here.  He had since broadened his sexual interests," Phil explained. "I
don't know if he is gay. I am quite sure he has never had a romantic
relationship with a man. One of my casual friends said he auditions the
women for Bang and the men for Manhole, but he seems to be a size queen
bottom. He might be omni-sexual."

"He sounds as if he has a hard to reach itch. Do you think I could get an
audition?" I asked. Phil nodded.

I e-mailed Apex a still photograph of me from one of Hector's movies. I had
a call two hours later from a dude named Colby who said he was the head
talent scout. We made an appointment for five that afternoon.

I was on time, Colby was a little late. Colby had been good looking and
clearly had a causal approach to life. He was forty or so and was still
good enough looking. I had a feeling some of the recreational aspects of
his life had become more than recreational for him. He liked the photos. He
made a phone call to Malcomb, who came to the office ten minutes later.

Malcomb Dewey was a handsome man in his early sixties. He obviously worked
out and he obviously dyed his hair black. His shirt was unbuttoned exposing
his pepper and salt chest hair. When he opened his mouth, the phrase "snake
oil salesman" jumped to mind. The was a smooth talker and had an unctuous
conversational style. He would have made a good television evangelist. Some
people like that style, but not me.

He said he wanted to help me become a star. I had a feeling that would be
an expensive proposition. Malcomb looked at the photos and from then on he
had a hard time taking his eyes off my basket. He talked to me as if I were
an innocent young man. The photos indicated that wasn't the case, but I
assume many of the men who came to him liked to be thought of in that way.

"Some of the men who want to get in the business, tend to be camera shy,"
Malcomb mentioned. "Could you give me a sample of your skills. A little
later tonight I have some friends coming over. We're working on a new
video, Business Men's Night Off. Could you help us with that?"

"Does I involve fucking and sucking?" I asked.

"It might," he said.

"Well, if it does, I'm sure as shit interested in helping," I said. The
"working session" was at nine, and Colby offered to take me out to
dinner. That turned out to be take out Chinese at his apartment. We had a
real nice chat. Colby was prone to go with the flow as long as it didn't
require him to exert himself. Malcomb Dewey was looking for investors to
restart his Hollywood career. The working-auditions sessions were sexual
romps intended to entice wealthy business men to invest in his projects.

They were both a reward and an inducement to invest. It also gave Malcomb
some leverage over his investors. Colby said that Malcomb would never outed
any of his investors, but they didn't know that. Colby thought this
approach was successful, but admitted that Malcomb didn't really have any
projects in the works. There was some general "work" sessions, but others
were one on one, with Malcomb hosting the events.

He had invited four business men to tonight's session. Truck drivers,
construction workers types and I were auditioning. This session was for men
who wanted rough trade. More correctly, it was for men who wanted men who
looked like rough trade. Colby emphasized that under no circumstances were
any of the men to be hurt in any way. That might damage their ability to
invest. The men being auditioned were given an "honorarium." Of course it
was borderline prostitution, but Malcomb had it all well planned. We
returned to studio at 8:30. There were drinks set out and the men
auditioning were taking advantage of that. Ed was an aspiring actor looking
for the cash.  He was supposed to be a carpenter. Gill was a truck driver,
and Dooley was a fire man.

While they purported they were there for the cash, they performed their
roles with flair and gusto. I noticed no hesitation at all about getting
naked and hard. Colby told me Malcomb also had a virgin night. None of
these men needed to play virgins.

Malcomb and his investors came a little later. Two of Malcomb's investors,
Lou and Jake, had been to this event before and were at ease. Two were new,
Toby and Sully were excited and a bit scared. They had been to dinner with
Malcolm, a rather boozy dinner. Colby pretended to be a camera man.

Ed, Dooley and Gill were puzzled as to why I was there, when we stripped,
they knew the reason. Malcomb often liked to feature a horse-hung giant at
the party. I was the pint-sized, horse-hung substitute.

Lou, Toby and Sully went for Ed, Gill and Dooley. That left me with Jake.
Jake was a short, heavy, hairy man, a troll. Luckily, he discovered his
size queen tendencies with me. He was a bit shy. Jake knew he was ugly but
ugly men can still be horny as shit. He was my height and I fondled his
cock. he was a little uneasy about my uncut cock, but that didn't last
long.

I dropped to my knees and sucked him just to be sociable. Jake was
surprised and pleased. Usually he did the sucking and was the bottom. He
began to ooze precum the second my lips touched his organ. I like to suck
anyway, but sucking an obviously excited man is even better.

After a few minutes we traded places and his sucking technique was
superb. We he got up he whispered, "Are you top? I usually like to bottom,
but you are bigger than I have taken before. There have been some big boys
here before, but they are usually drained by the other guys before they get
to me."

"Jake, if you want it, I'm pretty sure I can get it in you," I said. "I can
try it. If it hurts I will pull out."

"Are you sure you will do that?" he asked. "Most guys try to rip me a new
one."

"I do like to fuck a man until he shoots hands free," I said. "You've got
to like it to do that!" I spent the next ten minutes working my cock into
Jake's behind. I wasn't the first to plow his ass, but I may have been
among the first to take it slow and easy. Jake was just tight enough to be
good but once I was in the hard to reach places, Jake was almost purring.

Much to my surprise, I connected with Jake emotionally. A cock shoved in a
guy's ass is usually a physical experience, the friction beween the penis
and the rectum and the grip of the sphincter on the hard cock are sexually
stimulating. Jake had a loving ass. It seemed to want me to be in
there. Jake loved having man tool in him. he made love to my cock.

Jake knew he was not a catch. He tended to take anything and do anything
his partner wanted. "Most of the time they want my wallet," he said. "I am
just a way to get off if someone better comes along." I was giving him
long, deep, strokes but I gave his prostate a nice rubdown with my cock
head on each stroke. He loved that.

When I got too close to shooting off, I pulled out and Gill took a
poke. Gill had seen that Jake and I had a good time. He wanted to try it
out. I guess I had stretched and tenderized Jake's hole. It sort of shrink
wrapped itself to Gill's cock.  Gill loved it.

I calmed down and did Sully. He was a preppy golfer type, tall and
athletic. He was also a classic deep in the closet slut. He wanted sex
bad. I don't think he knew he wanted it in the ass; I gave it to him and he
lost it. He was an uptight, business type who wanted to be in control of
the situation. Malcomb came over and fed Sully his cock as I pounded his
rear.

Sully asked to rest, so I pulled out. Malcomb came over to me and fondled
my cock. somehow I was doing him doggy style a minute or two later. After
the "auditions" were over Colby told me that Malcomb usually participated
some just to prove he was one of the guys. He tended to go for the men with
the smallest meat. They were easy to take and left his mind clear enough to
get the investments he was after.

When I pulled out of Malcomb, Dooley offered me the chance to replace him
in Toby's ass. Dooley, Ed and Gill were nice about sharing their
partners. Their objective was to stop just short of an orgasm. They liked
to save the cream for a grand Finale. Of course all pretense of this being
an audition was gone. Colby had stripped and joined in. The separation
between the actors and Malcomb's investors had vanished. Men were enjoying
whoever was nearest.

Toby had the physique of an old football player. He had gone to seed, but
some muscle and brawn remained. Dooley had opened him up, and his sphincter
had not completely closed. I took advantage of that and went deep on the
first thrust. There is a difference between being naked, and being naked
and unprepared. Toby didn't expect me and I got him good. He didn't have
time to get macho. I don't think that he knew that his prostate, left to
its own devices had a different agenda than his brain.

I hadn't realized that happened until Dooley popped through my sphincter
and caught my ass relaxed and open. Dooley used my prostate as a punching
bag for his cock.

After a few minutes we had a perfectly synchronized triple orgasm. Colby
had been near and he took Toby's sperm.

We broke apart. Colby came over to Dooley and me. Dooley kissed his sperm
filled mouth and them he kissed me, trading Toby's seed. Colby had dropped
to his knees and licked up whatever was drooling from Dooley or my cock.

The group broke up, Malcomb Dewey had left the group with Ed. but I went to
Jake's suite with Dooley, Colby, Jake and Toby. We were all into it and we
had a good night. Toby had been all top. He fucked me and Jake and then he
let Colby fuck him. He had been uncomfortable being fucked, but once it was
mutual, it was okay.  He was getting used to the bottom and liked it. It
was as relaxing as a sleepless night could be. We were all versatile men,
and we could recharge as the others played. Toby and Jake let it all hang
out and discovered the joy of uninhibited sex.

I talked with Jake during a lull. He knew all about Malcomb and Maury's
business deals.  He had no illusions about Malcomb's skills as a
moviemaker. He had invested $50,000.00 in the scheme. Malcomb provided for
his entertainment when he was in LA. He visited the city once or twice a
month, with no paper trail to call boys or brothels. It might eventually
provide a loss that could help him with taxes.

Jake and Toby knew all the details of Malcomb's business. Malcomb Dewey had
received a $3,000,000.00 payment when the left the studio and had income
from some of his current enterprises. He was in good financial shape and
being fired was a financial gold mine. He was happy and fucking his way
through life. There was no need for revenge. He sometimes played the role
of the misunderstood genius, but Toby pointed out that geniuses rarely work
in porn.

Colby had information too. He knew Charles Davis, the writer, and
Malcomb. Excelsior, a Club for Men, provided some men and women for
Malcomb's "auditions." Colby found most of the gay men, but Charles
provided men with more specialized skills. I assumed that was the
trans-sexual men. He said that Charlie whined about being fired, but the
Excelsior was good place for him. Charles loved fucking trannies. Colby
said he doubted that Charles would ever leave the bar.  It was everything
he wanted.

By contrast Maury and the studio were on the edge financially. Thye needed
a big hit to make it. Malcomb had left just before the financial bubble
burst. If they didn't have a blockbuster, they were in deep shit.  Their
main asset was the studio property. That was a major asset and developers
had an eye on it.  I had the financial situation backward, the men who were
fired were in good shape, those who remained at the studio had problems.

Dooley, the fireman said that arson was a way to clear land fast without
the red tape. It was normally a problem in poor neighborhoods, but it
happened in ware houses and factories in the way of development. Dooley
didn't say much.  He was the Energizer bunny when it came to sex. he hit it
off with Toby; he seemed to skip into Toby's ass any time he had a chance.
Officially, Toby was still a top, but his asshole just happened to be on
view when Toby was on the prowl. That was a clear invitation.

Dooley drove me to my motel room around 4:00 in the morning. He dropped me
off, but we exchanged telephone numbers. I slept to about eight when I had
a call.  There was a second fire at the studio.  This time it was in the
new temporary offices and the building was a total loss. Dan, the Fire
Marshal was real unhappy.

When I talked to Dan he told me this was entirely different for the earlier
attack. It had no relationship with the bomb.  This was
professional. Either there were two arsonists at work, of the first attempt
was to throw suspicion on the Boy Bomber crew.

The police had some surprises from the autopsy. The PR man didn't die of a
heart attack. It was a drug over dose administered by a hypodermic
needle. The investigators found no needle at the site. Once he was stuck,
the PR man was paralyzed.  He could not dispose of the evidence.