Date: Tue, 12 Aug 2008 23:39:44 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Crestwood 5

Crestwood 5

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.


The next morning I was with the crew cleaning up the area around Emily
Carlisle's house. Jon wanted to have as few reminders of the tragedy as
possible.  That made sense to me. That sort of thing wasn't supposed to
happen in a place like Crestwood.

Emily didn't have children.  A cousin in the Midwest the the closest
relative. Jon contacted the cousin.  She deeply distressed, but was going
though chemotherapy for breast cancer and was in no condition to deal with
the death. Her husband was a retired Naval officer, and had met the Admiral
on a visit. After a flurry of phone calls and faxes, Admiral Green was
appointed co-executor and he was put in charge of the funeral arrangements
and cleaning out the house.

Green told Jon he appreciate it if he could get some help with the clean up
and heavy work. He asked for me.  Jon agreed. I'd been in Richmond for
years so I had funeral connections.  Emily had been Episcopalian and Green
was Presbyterian.  I got in touch with Wally, an organist in the most up
scale Episcopalian church in town. He knew everyone and knew exactly who to
call. I knew funeral director and he took care of everything. The body was
at the medical examiner's lab, but once it was released everything was on
automatic pilot. That made it easier for the Admiral and Emily's friends.

Admiral Green wanted to get to the bank statements as soon as possible.
The banks weren't too willing to do that, but Fire Marshall DeSoto took
care of that. The Admiral and the Fire Marshall overpowered the branch
manager. I got my accountant to help. Frank was a forensic accountant who
had a nose for financial irregularity.

When the investigators were done, we got into the house. Cleaning up is
good way to go over everything in detail. I started in the living room. The
admiral worked on the library-den. He was looking for records. Vince called
me on my cell phone. "We didn't find a purse, wallet or checkbook," he
said. "If you find them let me know."

I told the Admiral about the call. "Curious, isn't it?" he said. I
nodded. There was no way a seventy year old lady would be without a purse.
As yet,we didn't have any of the lab reports on Emily or Liz, the guard,
but the potential for an accidental fire was diminishing at a breakneck
pace.

As I cleaned up the living room I found no trace of the Homer. I did find
the well framed hunting print sitting behind an arm chair. I guessed it
preceded the Homer on the wall behind the sofa. There was no trace of the
suspect painting.

"I found last years records," The Admiral called from the next room, "in
the secretary. Old check records are here too." I went to the library and
looked at the checks. Emily had neat and orderly handwriting and each check
was carefully recorded. If there was a checkbook in her purse it would tell
a tale. We didn't find it. I wondered if a woman might be involved. A woman
would be more likely to remember the purse.

At this point most of the investigative work was going on in the Sate labs
and in Richmond.  I had people working on investigating Henry Paulus and
the Miller galleries, as well as looking into Mrs. Carlisle's finances. The
Admiral and I were much engaged in funeral arrangements .The funeral was at
10:30 on Friday and there was a reception afterwards at Crestwood.  Mrs
Carlisle and her husband weren't Virginia natives, so most of the people at
the service were from Crestwood. It was nicely handled, and it seemed to
release the tension at the home.  Funerals provide closure.

It wasn't closed for me or the Admiral. He was a driven man.  There was no
way he would be happy until the murderer was in jail. We agree on that.  I
didn't go to the funeral since I didn't know the woman and I wanted to
remain in the background.  I worked at the house, getting rid of any
evidence of a fire on the outside.

A local nursery provided new plants to replace those damaged by the
firemen. We got a few loads of turf to fix the lawn. It was a long day for
me, but it looked great at five. I went by the Admiral's to see how the
funeral had gone. He said all had been perfect and thanked me for my
advice. "I'm sort of a bull in the china shop when it comes to these
things," he said. "My wife use to do that sort of thing. Your pals got it
just right."

"Well, I said, "You had the best gay organist, caterer and florist in
Richmond.  If they can't get it right they get kicked out of the gay
union. Sensitivity is the name of the game."

He laughed. "I guess you're right about that.  I'm bushed."

"Me too. It's been a long week," I said.

There was a long silence. "I have something odd to ask you, " he said. "If
you get offended, just forget I said anything."

"To tell you the truth, it takes a lot for me to get offended," I
said. "Shoot."

"I'm going to visit a few friends on the Eastern Shore this
weekend. They're all retired military and we all share the same interests,"
he said. "I mentioned to Karl, the host, that I had met a really horse hung
man. He asked if I could bring you along. I guess you could say it's a sex
party. We're all older men."

"Am I the door prize?"

"You are offended!" the Admiral exclaimed.  He was worried.

"If there is a lot of sex, I'm usually game. I do like to top. Did you
mention that?" I asked.

He smiled. "That's not going to be a problem. Karl wanted to know if you
were a top." I agreed to go with him.

I went home with Glenn and Larry. They were relieved the funeral was
over. They were on call that weekend and were hoping the residents would
calm down.  The next morning the Admiral picked me up at nine and we drove
to the eastern shore.

Virginia's Eastern Shore always struck me as an accident and a failure of
the mapmakers' art. It is completely detached from the mass of Virginia by
the Chesapeake bay. It sits all by itself connected to the rest of the
state by the bridge tunnel. We got to Karl's place just before
lunchtime. Karl lived in a handsome house in the middle of a large farm of
several hundred acres. I would guess the house was built around 1800 and it
was in beautiful condition. Most of the property had grown up, so it was
completely secluded from the road. It was a private as a house could be.

Karl was a retired Captain in the Navy. The only other guest was Col. Bull
O'Brien, a Marine. Bull was mad. He had been forced to retire because of
his sexual tenancies. That was an excuse to cover the real reason they got
rid of him.  He was a Middle Eastern expert and was unhappy with the
Pentagon's policy for the war in Iraq. As he watched the war turn into a
disaster, he just got madder.

He was a body builder and exercise fanatic, and looked at me askance. I
wasn't his type at all. Karl was a courteous man who had served as a
protocol officer in the Pentagon. He made sure visiting dignitaries were
greeted and treated appropriately for their rank and station. He had been
an attaché in several embassies, including Moscow and Beijing. I assumed he
was in military intelligence.

Two men arrived shorty after we got there. Tommy was a former Master
Sergeant, and Calvin was Chief Petty officer in the Navy. Calvin had the
most spectacular Alabama accent I had ever heard.  He blew his nose with an
accent. Tommy was an Italian from the Bronx. They were friends, but you
would have thought they needed a translator.

We had sandwiches for lunch and then went to the back yard. It overlooked a
narrow inlet of the bay. An overgrown boxwood hedge defined one side of the
yard. Karl led us through a gap in the bushes and we came to a circular
pool. A fountain sprayed water across the pool. Karl stripped naked and
jumped in. The rest of us followed shortly. The water was warm, but very
clear and refreshing. We played around a bit, then I got out and dried off
in the sun.

When O'Brien got out, he did a double take when he saw my cock. I love size
queens and Bull was showing twelve of the ten danger signs of being a size
queen.  He had started to take a space on the other side of the pool, but
decided to relocate next to me. Karl had been next to him on the other
side. "Nice, isn't it?" Karl said as he glanced toward my cock.

"I've got first dibs!" Bull replied as he relocated next to me. I don't
think he knew how well sound carries across water. I'm not the shyest man
in the world and not shy about my body at all. It would have been hard to
hide my cock even if we were wearing trunks any way.

Bull had a great body. He was massive and powerful, he had clipped his body
hair that formed an even mat on his chest. His bush hadn't been clipped and
his cock and balls were compact and almost hidden in the hair.

Karl was physically the opposite. He was tall and lean with a runner's
physique. He was shaved hairless with a neat cube of hair at his pubes. A
long white snake hung from the cube. His low hanging ball sack held the
jewels. They were the size of ripe plums. He was cut and his cock head was
the size of the balls.

The Admiral, Calvin and Tommy joined us. Tommy was hairy and slightly
built. Calvin was massive and smooth. We chatted for a while, but no one
wanted to make the first move. When Karl was standing next to me, I took
the opportunity to suck him.  It was as if someone had shot off a starting
gun.

Our sextet turned to three pairs of sucking men. After a few minutes we
broke apart, relieved that the sex had started.

"You sure are a friendly group off guys," I said. "Nice and welcoming,"

"You've got a lot to welcome," Bull said.

"I'm not a very refined guy," I added, "While I like to suck, I really like
to top. Is that a problem?"

Karl, Bull and Tommy said, "This is your lucky day!" in unison. We all
burst out laughing. Karl's dog started to bark so he went off to see what
it was. I decided to see what Bull wanted. Actually, I knew what he wanted,
but I didn't know what he could take.

Bull turned his attention to me, or, more correctly, to my cock. I may not
have been his type, but my cock made up for my physical shortcomings. I
must admit, Bull was neither shy nor inexperienced, but before we could get
down to serious business, Karl returned with two more guests.  One was a
younger man in his thirties and the other was a man I remembered seeing on
the television as a Pentagon consultant.

Everyone slowed down to greet the newcomers and to let them catch up. I
will say they did that quickly.  The young man was Rich, he had been an
Arabic translator for he Army. The older man was simply called Hank.  Both
were new to the group.  Rich was now living in Richmond, and while he was
an Army man, he exemplified the Marine Gung-Ho attitude. He was a sexual
spark plug and he got things going.

Rich was perhaps the most average man in the world.  He was average in
weight and hight, average looking and had standard issue equipment too.
You would never pick him out in a crowd. He loved sex and he wasn't at all
shy about getting it.

Hank was distinguished looking but reserved, some what like Admiral
Green. Once he got going he was a sensual man. I think he may have been
nearly 70 years old, but he had no problem maintaining an erection. He was
uncut and hung. Hank wouldn't go looking for sex, but if it passed his way,
he would take it. Once he had the ball, he would run with it.

As we talked I heard thunder in the distance.  It was hot and muggy, so we
left the pool and went inside. I've been to my share of sex parties and
usually sex is in a play room.  Here we split up and went to individual
bedrooms.  I ended up in a room with Bull and Rich. I could tell Rich was
turned on by Bull and excited by my cock.

Rather oddly, Rich seemed to instinctively know Bull wanted to get fucked
and he set about getting Bull ready for the penetration.  He offed to do a
lubricating to open Bull's ass.

"What in hell is a lubricating fuck?" Bull asked.

"Well, I coat mt cock and your ass with as much lube as possible then shove
it in deep." Rich explained. "If you're planning to take that monster cock
your bed mate sports, deep lubrication is what you need. If you're open
minded, I can shoot some of the homemade lubricant really deep."

"You shoot a big load?" Bull asked as he stroked Rich's meat. Rich was
playing with Bull's ass.

"When I turned on it can hit the ceiling," Rich said. "I'm just about as
turned on as I've ever been in my life.

"Give me the full treatment," Bull said.  I could tell Rich amused
him. Rich coated his cock and eased it into Bull's ass. Bull was excited
and took it easily. Rich's shaft was on the thin side, but the knob was
big. That suited Bull just fine. Rich puled out, squirted some lube into
Bull ass, then used is cock to shove it deep.

Rich did this twice then made a dozen deep strokes in quick succession and
shot off. He shook and shivered with each ejaculation. Bull loved
that. When Rich pulled out he was still drooling cum. I nosed mt cock head
into the quivering hole.  Bull was on his back and I took his legs and
spread them wide and pushed them open. I wanted Bull to be defenseless. I
played with his hole, pushing the head in part way but just stretching the
sphincter, not popping it.

Bull had buns of steel, so he wasn't entirely defenseless. I knew he wanted
my cock, but some times your body isn't so sure about a large object
lodging itself in your ass. I also didn't know if Bull wanted my cock just
because it was big, or because he like to get fucked. Some guys are more
into the achievement than the sensation.

I bounced and pressed my cock until Bull opened for me. I didn't pop
through it, he wanted it so bad that he opened up. Usually I stop once I'm
in to the let a guy get his bearings. This time I pushed in deep until my
curly pubes tickled his ass.  I didn't shove it in, I just pushed in a
single slow movement. Bull's eyes crossed and he sighed. A second or two
later, his sphincter tightened, trying to grab my cock and keep it in his
ass.

Once I was in he wanted it in. I jiggled my cock to see how we would
react. It was all that I could wish for. He could hardly breathe when I
moved. I would pump a little and he would try to grab my cock with his
violated sphincter. We had a nice, friendly battle until he unconditionally
surrendered. By then my cock was freely traveling into the depths of his
ass and he was either moaning, begging me to stop or begging me to fuck him
harder.

The other guys visited the room to watch. Some were amused, all were turned
on. Karl leaned over to whisper encouragement into Bull's ear. Hank popped
his cock into Karl's ass effortlessly. On the other side of the Room,
Calvin was bent over with the Admiral slow fucking him. Rich fucked Tommy,
the hairy Italian.

I was having a great time until I went too far and shot everything I could
into Bull's ass. I bellowed," I'm shooting!" as I climaxed. This seemed to
precipitate a general round of orgasms. When I pulled out, I got on the
bed, straddled Bull's cock and sat on it. I don't think more that half of
his organ was in my ass before he popped. His whole body shivered and
bucked as he popped. I wasn't big enough to hold him down, so I had to ride
the bucking bronco. He got really deep. When he calmed down, I played with
his tits and he stoked the hair on my chest.

He was still having after shocks, and I remained turned on. He was still
hard and I did a little hula dance on his pole.  His knob made the perfect
connection with my prostate and I lobbed a couple of volleys over his
chest.  Bull opened his mouth the catch the last shot. As he swallowed it,
I felt his cock twitch.

The room was quiet with everyone recovering. There must have been a general
exchange of cum. I had a friend who said the orgasm wasn't over until the
last drops drooled from the slit. I got off Bull's cock and was next to
him. "I've never tasted another man's cum before," he said.

"Are you okay with it?" I asked.

"I think I could get use to it," he replied.

"There are drinks in the other room," Kurt announced. There had been a
small thunderstorm as we played in the bedroom, but the sun was shining
again.  The room remained hot, but the humidity had abated, We left the bed
room and walked naked back to the pool.  The men were relaxed now and any
initial shyness or reserve was gone.

The change was most noticeable in the Admiral and Hank. Their trips up Karl
and Calvin's backsides had broken through their natural reserve. The
Admiral came over to me, "was that as good as it looked?" he asked. I said
yes.

"I had no idea Bull was available," he added, "I thought he was a pure
top."

"He may be, all top.  Sometimes guys get inspired some times to try out new
things," I said, "But I know he ain't pure no more!" I fondled then
Admoral's cock. He was still dripping a little, so I tasted it.

He watched me do this and simply said, "Damn!" I left me and walked over to
Bull who was lying on a towel next to the pool.  A little later the Admiral
was fingering Bull's ass. He had relaxed.

I sat next to Rich and Tommy. "I had figured you for a bottom," I said to
Rich.

"You figured right," he said, smiling. "but you could have figured me as
bottom, a sideways, or a middle. Some guys are ambidextrous, I'm
ambi-sexual. If you can do it with a cock, I like it."

"And boy, does he like it," Tommy said. We talked for a while as we
recharged our balls.  Investigation is usually 90% hard work and 10% good
luck. I was lucky today. Rick had an apartment above a art gallery in
Richmond, none other than the Miller Galleries of Americana. He knew the
manager of the Gallery, R. Winston Jones, and he did part time work for
them translating letters and bills from Asian suppliers.

Rick was an expert in oriental languages, Hindi and Chinese as well as
Arabic. Actually, Hindi and Chinese were his strong suit.  His step father
had been a Jordanian Engineer, and he had picked that up from him. I've
never understood how a person could pick up a language, but that was what
Rick could do.

"The funny thing is that the Americana in the Miller Galleries of Americana
is mostly Chinese," Rick said. "There's a studio somewhere in Shanghai had
produces wild west pictures for them."

"That's America for you," Tommy said. "I'll bet there's a made in China
mark on the inside of the Liberty Bell."

"The paintings cost a lot, most are a $1,000.00 to $1,500.00 at the current
exchange rate," Rick explained. "Good old R. Winston has some art students
who antique them and they even have a oven sort of thing that makes them
look older."

"What do the sell them for?" I asked.

"That's funny," Rich said. "Nothing had a price tag on it. Everything is
sold, "By Appointment only." The gallery is never open to the public.  I
don't know anything about art, other that I almost bought a sofa sized
painting form the back of a truck in a K-Mart parking lot once. R. Winston
told me they never advertise. People know them by word of mouth only."

"R. Winston must be quite a character," I said.

"That he is," Rich said. "He has an English accent he got from going to the
movies. I think Hugh Grant is his model. As far as I can tell, he's from
Michigan.  That's the accent under the accent."

"Is he good in bed?" I asked.

"I never kiss and tell," Rich said. I looked at him with disbelief.  He
burst out laughing. "To tell you the truth I'm way too old for him. He has
a pal, a guy named Henry, who seem to import Asian boys for their mutual
enjoyment. I've met a few of them. Henry and R. Winston think they are
getting genuine teen age chicken. Most of the guys are in their 20s, but
one or two were 30.  They looked young."

"I'm not into teenage sex," Tommy said.

"Nor am I, Rich said. "I like my beef aged. I talked with several of the
"boys". Life is rough begin gay in China. Pretending to be a 14-year-old
and getting fucked by two American Queens seemed like a good deal to
them. Once and a while they get poked by some of R. Winston's clients, but
the guys seemed to like that.