Date: Mon, 4 Aug 2008 19:41:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Crestwood 3

Catfish moves to Crestwood Acres 3

by Bald Hairy Man

This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you don't like that DON'T
read it. You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, not for
minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual.  No effort to portray safe sex
practices has been made.  If you have any comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com.

I left Sedgwick's apartment at two in the morning. I knew I was going to
see him again. Glenn drove the next morning, so I got a little more sleep
in the car. I don't need a lot of sleep anyway, and while Sedgwick kept me
up late, I sure was relaxed that morning.

I met Crestwood Acre's director for the first time after work. Jon Dustin
was short, slightly pudgy man who didn't strike me as a leader of
men. Apparently Henry had spoken to him about my work at Mrs Anderson's
house. Jon came to the locker room to talk with me, but ran into Glenn
before he got there.  Glenn set him straight, but also mentioned my
endowment.

Glenn had told me Jon was into twinks, but I guess he was willing to look
at alternative forms of entertainment. I had thought Jon used his position
to get sexual favors, but when I met him, I realized that was unlikely. Jon
was a timid and very careful pencil pusher.  He was proper and almost
prissy. His taste for pretty boys was his weakness.  It was much more
likely that ambitious young men knew of his weakness and exploited them,
then Jon was exploiting them for his sexual gratification. The locker room
was empty, except for me. I emerged from the shower wearing only a towel.

I have a friend who says if I could just walk around naked all the time, I
would be the most popular man in the world.  What ever Jon wanted to say to
me about Mrs. Anderson was forgotten when he saw my cock. I'm small, but
muscular and well built. I'm a fur ball and you can't see the muscles
through the hair. Fortunately my cock isn't covered in hair and it stands
out.

You would think a man who likes pretty boys would be turned off by my type,
but that underestimates the power of the cock. When I'm naked no one looks
at my face. I could tell Jon didn't want to be seen looking, but he
couldn't help himself. I spent a lot of time drying my hair, so he could
have guilt free inspection time.

He asked me how much I liked working there and asked if I had any
problems. This conversation went on for a few minutes. I made no effort to
get dressed, and he made no effort to leave. Clearly, Jon was afraid to
make the first move.  For me it was a close your eyes and think of England
situation.  I wasn't too enthusiastic about sucking, or fucking him.

Another employee entered and I was off the hook. I got dressed and went to
the car to wait for Glenn. Ira was already there. I mentioned that I had
met Mrs Anderson the day before and she was loosing it. "Are there many
here who are in the same situation?" I asked.

"There are always some in the twilight period," Ira said.

"Twilight?"

"That's when they are slipping, but not gone," Ira explained. "It's the
most dangerous time for us.  You think everything is fine, then you find
them barbecuing eggs over the back yard grill at three o'clock in the
morning."

"That's a bad sign?"

Ira laughed. "The big problem is when they fry bacon for three hours and
the alarms go off," Ira said. "The units all have fire alarms connected to
the central office. The night guard, Lizzy Smith, is really good about
keeping an eye on the problem residents. When there are lights on at two in
the morning she checks it out. The transitional units don't have kitchens,
but some residents can be very creative when it comes to a hot plate or a
coffee maker."

"Is there some one in charge of the borderline residents?"

"There is, but it's an odd choice of staff," Ira said. "Paulus is one of
them and Tiffany Lewis is the other.  Neither of them seem to like the old
folks much, but they like the ones that are slipping."

"Maybe it inspires their sense of charity?"

"If you met them, you would know how unlikely that is," Ira said. "Both
seem to be entirely self centered." Glenn arrived and we went back to
Richmond. I had several reports waiting at the office. Jon Dustin was a
ordained Baptist minister who had a congregation at one time.  His wife
apparently discovered his little secret and wanted to use it in a divorce
proceeding.  He resigned and took the administrative job at Crestwood. He
lived modestly and was regarded as an exemplary pencil pusher. By all
accounts he was well respected, but not much liked.

Henry Paulus was a man on the make. He had been through a number of jobs,
never staying in one place for more than 18 months, until he arrived at
Crestwood.  He had been there for three years. He drove an old Dodge to
work, but there was a Jaguar parked in front of his expensive condo in
Richmond. His former employers were carefully non committal about his work.

Henry also had a live in.  The houseboy was a 22 year old Mexican named
Julio.  My operative discovered that there had been a series of young
men. Apparently age 23 the cut off age. He would ditch them and replace
them with someone younger. He liked Asians who looked younger than their
years. Julio was an exception to the string of Asian boy toys.

I called Clint, my operative who made the report. "Reading between the
lines, I take it you weren't much impressed by Henry Paulus?" I said.

"Well he ain't my cup of teas, that's for sure," Clint said.  Clint was a
native of Galax, Virginia. He liked his men manly. "I just discovered
something interesting. He definitely lives above his means, but I ran into
Randy Butler, the Realtor who sold Paulus his condo. Paulus paid in cash,
$550,000.00."

"An inheritance maybe?"

"His parents live in a trailer in Orlando. His dad is retired, but works as
night guard in a local hospital to get a little extra money," Clint
explained. "I don't think he comes from money. His salary at Crestwood is
about $45,000.00 a year."

"Any other bombshells?"

"As a mater of fact, yes." Clint said. "Apparently his residence of record
is a house off Jefferson Davis Highway. He owns a rancher there. He rents
it out, but that is where Crestwood thinks he lives. It's also where the
Commonwealth of Virginia thinks he lives. It's not in the worst part of
Jefferson Davis, but nothing on the road is of any account."

"By the way, how did you run into Randy?" I asked. "He's a bit high toned
for you, isn't he?"

"It was at his birthday party."

"Were you in the cake?"

"I wasn't exactly in the cake.  I was sort of a birthday present for him."

"How did it work out?"

"Unexpectedly good. One of his friends thought he'd like me.  He did, but
so did I. Let's just say I didn't know I could shoot off five times on one
night. His ass was so full of my cum it was coming out of his ears."

I called Gus, my art guy next and asked about the Miller Galleries of
Americana. Gus was a sculptor who had been making ends meet by working as a
guard for one for the security companies we worked for. He helped us with a
case and we hired him for some of our arty clients.  We did security for
art exhibits and galleries and he could fit in with the crowd. He was the
perfect plain clothes man for those occasions.

"Miller is on the outer edge of respectability," Gus said. "for years they
sold Wild West Pictures and Civil War paintings.  About five years ago they
began moving into more mainstream artists. They sold a painting by Thomas
Eakins to a local collector. He made the mistake of giving it to the museum
and it turned out to be a forgery. The portrait was by a adequate late 19th
Century artist, but the signature was forged. When the museum cleaned it,
the forgery was discovered."

"Was the conservator Sedgwick Montague?"

"It was," Gus said. "Do you know him? He's a character.  Sharp as a tack,
but a character."

"I just met him," I said. "It caused a stink?"

"Oh yes. The Gallery had to give back the cost of the painting," Gus
said. "It was only $100,000.00 which is dirt cheep for an Eakins.  The
purchaser knew that and was planning to get a tax break when he gave it to
the museum and the full market price.  They were lucky the IRS didn't find
out about it.  There was potential fraud involved."

"What would tn he value of an Eakins be?" I asked.  I wasn't familiar with
the artist.

"The Gross Clinic went to the Philadelphia Museum for $65,000,000.00.  The
Miller Eakins wasn't a major painting but had it been an Eakins, it would
be hard to think of it going for less than a million," Gus
explained. "There aren't a lot of them floating around."

"So the gallery is selling big names at a bargain price?"

"That seems to be what they are doing," Gus replied. "They aren't selling
to the big time collectors. They market to nouveau riche, or uninformed
collectors. They have been keeping under the radar lately."

"Have you ever heard of a man named Henry Paulus?"

"Nope, never met him."  Gus answered. Gus went on to explain the suspicions
about the Gallery. "Unfortunately they are all unproven suspicions as of
now."

I went to be early and recharged my batteries.  I was tired both from my
return to manual labor and my long night with Sedgwick. I picked up Ira and
Glenn the next morning and went to work. I did get a few names from Ira of
residents who were slipping.

Ira contacted me during the day and said he had to stay late to teach a
class. The person who was supposed to teach it had called in sick. I said I
didn't mind staying late if it was okay with Glenn. Ira checked with Glenn
and he was fine. Glenn always had paperwork he could do.

I got to the employee locker room at six. I noticed Jon was in Glenn's
office with a third man. Somehow I had a feeling they were waiting for
me. As I walked by, Glenn waved at me to come in.

"Willy, come join us we're all here late today," Glenn said. I was using my
real name, Wildridge, not Catfish at Crestwood.  "You know Jon, this is
Larry. "He's a intern here as part of his MBA program. Larry was 23 or 24,
a little short of six feet tall and almost pretty.  He was slim and very
elegant. He had curly black hair, a trimmed beard and beautiful pale blue
eyes. Our eyes met and I saw curiosity and lust. He saw only lust in my
eyes.

"You're learning to ropes of Retirement Communities?" I asked.

Larry smiled, "It's a growth industry. There's going to be need for
thousands of these places over the next decade."

I was sweaty and dirty.  I caught a whiff of myself.  "I need to take a
shower if we're going to have a civilized conversation here," I said.  "Can
excuse me for a few minutes?"

"Why don't you use the executive shower here," Larry asked. "I could use a
shower too. Are you the shy type?" While Jon looked nervous as hell, Larry
wasn't the shy type at all. I guessed no one had ever passed up a shower
with him.  Glenn looked amused.

"Not at all," I relied. "Everyone has the same equipment."  Glenn got up,
locked the door and turned off the lights. We adjourned to the shower. When
we stripped, Larry made no effort to disguise his interest. The shower was
large. Apparently it had been a small room and they had tiled the entire
space when they converted it to a shower.  Larry and I went in and got the
water going.

One nice thing about younger guys is that get hard easily.  Larry had a
nice seven incher, that curved toward his navel. The shaft was thin, but
the knob was large and uncut. He had pale white skin, his chest was covered
is silky black hair. The only color was his pink lips and tits, blue eyes
and lavender cock head.  He was beautiful.

"You have to be the ugliest man I've ever seen," he said. "I don't think
I've ever been this turned on. You're uncut too. I've never played with an
uncut one before."

I was firming up a little, but the skin still covered my head. I was
wondering what a lavender cock head tasted like when he decided to do some
foreskin exploration. I had showered that morning, but it had been a hot
day and I hadn't had the opportunity to peel back the skin and air it
out. I was afraid it might be a baptism of fire for a guy sucking his first
uncut meat.

I didn't need to worry. Since I was still soft, he took my entire organ
into his mouth. He sucked it in, pulling as much skin into his mouth as he
could. With all the extra skin in his mouth he worked his tongue into the
pucker and tongue fucked my foreskin. I didn't stay soft for long.  The tip
of his tongue and the tip of my cock met. As luck would have it, he found
my slit.  I must have been oozing some, because he lingered at the slit. He
flicked his tongue at the slit to sample my balls juices before he explored
the rest of my knob. He knew the sensitive places on a cock head.  As I
said before, Larry wasn't shy and he wasn't a virgin.

By then Glenn and Jon were in the shower with us. Jon was slightly over
weight and not at all toned. He looked embarrassed. He was not so
embarrassed as to lose his erection. It was a good cock.  I had a friend
who referred to cocks like his as standard issue.

"I'm in the land of the giants," he said.

Glenn smiled at him.  "It's not what you have, but what you do with what
you have that matters," he said. Jon dropped to his knees and sucked on
Glenn's erect cock.

I soon discovered Jon's strong suit was cock sucking.  He loved it. Jon
wanted cock, he didn't want any reciprocation, he just wanted to suck. That
was good for all of us. I discovered he had the shortest fuse of any man I
had ever met.

Larry later told me it was part of Jon's Baptist upbringing. He thought his
body was a temple, and he wanted to keep it pure. Jon seems to have had a
odd interpretation of the biblical quote that it wasn't what you put in
your mouth, but what comes out of it.  Cock and cum were fine, he just
wanted his cock and ass left untouched.

I always like to give as much as I take, but Jon was happy and we were
happy. He sucked and sucked and sucked and never got tired. I don't know
what he did, but Jon had a magic tongue. It was delicate and surprisingly
effective.

Larry looked as if he might be delicate.  He had the sexual stamina and
drive of a bull. He liked oral. He liked anal and if you could have fucked
his nose he'd have liked nasal. When Jon sucked me, Larry went off to suck
and then fuck Glenn. Glenn wanted to get fucked, but he wasn't a natural
bottom. I didn't know if his ass was tight, or if he couldn't relax enough
to let Larry in.

Larry liked a challenge. He was a hard, but fair fucker. He took his time,
but never took his eyes off the prize.  He knew Glenn really wanted it, and
eventually he got it. Glenn was happy. Larry kept his eyes on my cock as
Jon worked it over. As he deep dicked Glenn he looked at me. "Do you like
to fuck?" he asked.

I nodded. "I top," I replied.  Larry smiled as he rammed Glenn hard. Glenn
was on his hands and knees, taking it doggy style. He moaned and reared
up. He sprayed the shower room with sperm. Larry continued to pump slowly
then pulled out. He was still hard and his lavender cock head was now a
deep purple.

Jon had stopped sucking, so he watch Glenn shoot off. He scooted over to
lick up the cum that was still drooling from Glenn's cock.

Larry came over to me. "Do you think you can take it?" I asked.

"I'm not sure, but I want to try," he said.

"Have you taken a big one before?" I whispered.

"No, nothing like yours," Larry replied.  He leaned close to me. "I liked
it a lot, but I've always had the feeling that a bigger one would be
better. It's like an itch that's deeper than anyone's been able to
scratch."

Glenn had recovered from his orgasm and came over too us. "If you don;t
mind, I'd love to watch," he said.

"I like a audience," Larry said. I smiled and Jon looked like he had died
and gone to heaven.

We were still in the shower, so we dried off and went to the next room. It
had a cot.

Glen had stocked the room with some of lube. "I wish I had some poppers,"
Glenn said. "a little bit of sugar makes the medicine go down."

"What are poppers?" Jon asked.

"I'll explain latter," Glenn said.

"I just got back from a vacation in Amsterdam," Larry said. "I have a
unopened bottle of high test." He produced a small blue bottle. "Do you
want a snort now?" he asked, offering me the bottle.

"Not now," I said. "Let's save it for the rough spots. Glenn can you
lubricate Larry's ass? Jon, would you like to slobber up my cock?" Jon was
more than willing.

Glenn got Larry on his back and worked some lube in the the boy's
ass. Larry loved it and I mean loved it. Then Glenn got something that
looked a bit like a small turkey baster.  He filled it with lubricant and
inserted it in Larry's hole. As he pulled it out he injected the lube,
filling Larry's entire love tunnel. The then worked on the hole it self. He
started with one finger, added a second, then a third. Larry was opened and
ready for fun.

Jon was going to town on my cock. "Juice it up really good," I told
him. "slobber over it. I want it to slip in easy. It may be messy, but it
will go in easy!"

When Glenn got his fourth finger in Larry's hole it was time. Glenn had
Larry's legs bent over his chest so the ass was open and defenseless. Glenn
pulled his fingers out.  Larry's sphincter didn't have time to close before
my cock head was on the dark side of the ring of muscle. A second later his
ass swallowed my entire cock. His eyes rolled back into his head and he
moaned. To this day I don't know if I pushed in, or he sucked me
in. usually I let a guy recover after full penetration, but Larry didn't
need that. I began slowly thrusting. It was fine. Glenn opened to poppers
and gave Larry a snort and then held the bottle to my nose. I took a deep
snort. The fumes hit him a second or two before they hit me. There was no
way either of us could hold back.

He craved my cock, I had had an urge to get deeper and deeper into his
guts. We lasted about five minutes of incredibly intense sex then he and I
shot off together. Much to my surprise Jon was there eating up Larry's cum
as it squirted from the bloated cock.

I pulled out as my ejaculations diminished, but Jon kept on sucking Larry's
meat, taking everything that Larry's balls could produce. When he got up,
Larry's hand touched Jon's cock and he climaxed. Jon had a short fuse, but
a full load. Glenn had leaned over to lick the last drips for Larry's cock
and was there to take Jon's cum. Glenn looked up when he felt the first
splatter, opened his mouth and Jon filled it.  Robin Hood never hit a
target as accurately as Jon hit Glenn's mouth.

Jon was dazed. I don't think he knew sex could be that good.