[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between actual events and the events in this story or the characters in this story are purely coincidental. This story may involve descriptions of unsafe sexual acts between men for the purpose of erotic fantasy and is not intended to condone such acts. If you are underage or homoerotic material is otherwise illegal in your area, please do not continue. Author retains copyright; do not duplicate this story without the express written consent by the author. Comments and suggestions are welcomed by the author at elryc.caledon@gmail.com. The author resides in the Phoenix, Arizona, metropolitan area.]
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A Cautionary Tale
On a clear Saturday afternoon in north Phoenix, I decided to take my two cars over to a nearby carwash as they were coated with dust and needed to be cleaned up for the week ahead.
The carwash is the type where cars go through an automated wash tunnel, then there are parking bays for drying and vacuuming.
I took the first car through, and pulled into an open bay, one of my favorites as it is next to a handicapped bay, thus there is extra room on the right side.
The car on the left, a midsized white sedan, was being dried and vacuumed by a middle-aged, rather good looking man with dark hair and a short beard.
I went about the business of drying my car, wiping the mirrors carefully, wiping out the doorsills, etc., and was soon ready to leave as it was hot and I wanted to get out of the heat. I noticed the man working on the white car cast several broad glances at me, lingering looks and looking like he wanted to say something, but he didn't.
I took the first car home, went into the house to cool off for a minute and I filled up my insulated drink cup. Phoenix was experiencing record- breaking heat and I was sensible enough to be careful to stay hydrated and to take breaks from the heat.
I soon drove over to the car wash with the other car, and after getting through the tunnel I saw my favorite bay was open again, so I maneuvered my car into that space.
Upon parking in the bay and opening the driver's door, I was surprised to see the same white sedan on the left, still being polished by the man I had observed earlier.
The man seemed to be focused on a detailed wiping and polishing of the passenger mirror. It seemed a little strange, but it was hot and I got moving on getting my car wiped down.
I was more aware of the other man this time, and noticed he kept looking in my direction quite often. But because of the heat, I kept working diligently on my car.
As I was vacuuming the driver's side floor mat, I noticed the man standing quite close to me, and as I glanced in his direction, his right hand wandered down to his crotch and he adjusted himself.
I felt a smile tugging on the corners of my mouth and looked up to his face. He was wearing shiny sunglasses and I couldn't see his eyes.
"Um...hi," I said, suddenly feeling shy.
"Hey," he responded. "Are you Edward?"
"No," I responded, suddenly feeling confused. It occurred the guy was waiting to meet someone, which explained his still being at the carwash for such a long period of time.
"Oh," he shrugged, but it seemed he didn't believe me, and then he said "Of course, you want to be careful...you got the merch with you?"
"Merch?" I repeated, feeling rather stupid now, obviously the guy was meeting someone for some sort of nefarious transaction. I backed away slightly, and shook my head in the negative.
"I'm not selling anything," I said, and turned my attention back to my car.
However the guy stuck a card in front of my face, and I instinctually took it. It had a first name of "Carl," scrawled on it, and had a hand-written address on it, for the apartment complex across the street from the car wash. On the front, when I flipped it over, it proved to be a non-descript sort of card, for some sort of consulting business.
"You look hot, and I'd like to hook up with you if you're in the mood," the guy said, "And be sure to bring your merch with you...be at my place at 8:00 if you're interested."
I nodded, decided to not comment on the "merch," remark again, as it was noisy at the car was and I wasn't sure if I was hearing him correctly. I tucked the card into my pocket and finished up vacuuming the car. Car got into ducked into his car and quickly left.
At first, I didn't seriously consider going and meeting Carl; I was a bit tired from cleaning the cars and I needed to work on some budget models for work.
However, after spending some time reflecting on the fact that Carl wasn't half bad looking, and considering I deserved a break from work, especially on a weekend, I showered and prepped for an encounter, and drove over to the apartment complex, which was less than five blocks from my home.
Carl opened the door immediately after my light tap, inviting me in with a nod of his head and closed the door after me, locking it as he did so and then followed closely behind me as I looked around the small apartment, it was sparsely furnished in a sterile sort of way, almost like it was a model staged for prospective renters.
"You look hot," Carl said, nuzzling my hair from behind, "Let's fuck."
I could feel his hardness pressing against my ass. Carl guided me to the bedroom just off the small living room. There was a queen bed, with the comforter pulled down towards the foot of the bed, and I noticed some small towels and a bottle of lube on a small nightstand.
Carl quickly stripped down, throwing his clothes on top of a small chair in a corner off the foot of the bed, and I quickly followed suit. Carl looked good, he had a leanness and a hardness that spoke of many hours spent at the gym, along with some good genetics.
"You have a great ass," Carl said, "I'm gonna fuck you good," and he rubbed his length along my groin, I was turned on and was hard as well.
We kissed for several minutes, in the background I heard the sirens of a fire truck as it crossed the nearby intersection. I didn't think much of the noise as there was a fire station just down the street past the carwash.
Eventually, Carl had me get up on the bed, and flipped me over onto my stomach. He picked up the bottle of lube from his bedside table, and I could hear him as he slicked up his hard cock, which was sizable.
Slowly, Carl maneuvered the head of his dick against my opening, then punched in a little, then withdrew. He repeated that several times, each time, entering me a little bit more. He stopped once, and added a little more lube from the bottle which he had left on the sheet, and started pressing inwards a bit more insistently.
Soon, Carl's cock was sliding into me halfway, withdrawing, and then with a few more thrusts and he had his thick length all the way inside.
Without any further hesitation, Carl's thrusts continued, faster, slower, as I enjoyed feeling him inside of me, filling me up completely and felt him stretching me out.
Soon, Carl's breathing got faster and more erratic, he was getting close, and his approaching climax caused him to thrust more deeply, and he began almost a keening wail, "Let me come, let me come, let me come inside of you," and with that he slammed into me one final time and I felt his warm load spreading up inside of me.
Presently, after a few minutes of calm, Carl raised himself up off of me and then he grabbed a towel and we cleaned up a little.
I reclined on the bed a little, although I hadn't come, I felt satisfied.
"So," Carl said presently, "Did you bring the stuff with you?"
I felt my eyebrows raise as I responded, "I have no idea, really, of what you're talking about. I'm not selling anything."
"Oh, come on man," Carl snorted, "We talked online for weeks."
"We did not," I countered, "I've not chatted with anyone since the pandemic started, I've been too busy with work to meet up with anyone. And again, I'm not selling anything. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't do drugs of any kind."
For the first time, Carl looked uncertain. "You didn't chat with me on the _________ platform, giving the name 'Edward?'"
Feeling a bit exasperated, I again shook my head, "No, I've never used an alias of Edward."
I heard sirens again outside, more firetrucks.
"What was 'Edward,' selling?" I inquired.
Carl hesitated, and then said in a low tone, "He was selling kiddie porn."
I recoiled involuntarily, "I think I should leave, I'm not into that sort of thing." I felt a large measure of disgust, having somehow gotten myself into some sort of scrape.
We began pulling on our clothes. Carl said little to me, and as soon as I was dressed, he followed me to the door. I wished him a good evening and went down to my car and made the short drive home.
Upon turning into the mobile home park, I found the west end of mobile home park where my home was located in a state of complete disarray. Cars were parked on the street, and as I proceeded to the far west side of the Park, I saw a number of police cars, and two firetrucks in the street - in front of the gutted remains of my home.
I was overcome with shock and I cried out as I saw the complete ruins of my home, and the other car I driven earlier to the carwash was in the driveway, and was badly damaged by the fire, with the hood and front fenders blackened, the front tires flattened and the windshield caved in.
I hurried forward, but a policeman stopped me. I explained I was the owner of the home, and he allowed me to get closer to the smoldering ruins.
"What happened," I asked, with a sob in my voice, of some fireman who were standing in the driveway. "Where are my cats - I have two cats - where are the birds?"
"There were some boxes on top of the range, and they caught on fire, and the fire spread through the whole place," one of them responded. "We didn't see any cats," another man said in a bored tone.
"Boxes on the stove," I repeated, in complete disbelief. I never left anything on the glasstop of the stove. It was fairly new, and I had always taken great care that it was not scratched or damaged in any way.
It gradually occurred to me there were a large number of police cars around, also some large black SUV's.
A rather officious looking man with a shaved head approached me, he had a large gut protruding over his waistband, and he had a red and florid looking face.
He asked my name, and when I gave it to him, he immediately stepped behind me and told me I was being "detained," handcuffing me as he did so, and he then he walked me over to one of the SUV's, and pushed me into the backseat.
I kept my eyes on my home, asking what was going on, but no one would answer me.
Another man approached and getting into the front of the vehicle, he identified himself as being with Homeland Security, and he began questioning my activities for the afternoon. I told him I had washed the cars, and then had gone to meet a "friend," and was only just arrived back home to find the ensuing disaster.
The man told me that my computers has been seized; a laptop computer (which belonged to my employer), and two desktops.
"What do you mean my computers have been seized," I asked incredulously, "The house has been destroyed by the fire!"
"The hard drives are being scanned for contraband right now," the man replied tersely.
"Contraband?" I repeated blankly. "What sort of contraband?"
"Child phonography."
I felt the color drain from my face. Carl had repeated asked me about some "merch," that turned out to be "kiddie porn," I had supposedly offered to sell him.
From that point onwards, I began refusing to answer any further questions.
In due course, I was driven down to the Maricopa County jail and was processed, finger-printed, strip searched, given an orange jumpsuit to wear and thrown into a noisy, chaotic environment. The noise was incredible and never ceased, even in the small hours of the morning. I am a diabetic and have a heart condition, called AFib, and soon I could tell my blood sugar was out of range, and my chest was thumping as the drugs I relied upon to regulate my heartbeat slowly fled my system.
Out of desperation, after a three days had passed, as soon as I was finally permitted to make a phone call, I reached out to my ex-wife and was thankful that she immediately agreed to help.
My ex-wife found an attorney willing to take on my case, for a fee of $10,000, which I agreed to.
The attorney showed up at the jail and I met with him, and he went over the particulars of the case. Based on the "conversation," I had supposedly had with an undercover agent, I was charged with 15 counts of "Sexual Exploitation of a Child," each count carrying a mandatory of 10 years minimum prison sentence, to be served consecutively in the state of Arizona - meaning I was looking at a minimum sentence of 150 years, upon conviction.
I explained to the attorney that no such conversation had taken place; I gave him the details of Carl approaching me at the carwash. Looking back, I now recognized that Carl was waiting for someone else, and had mistaken me for the "Edward," that apparently never showed up.
In order to get out of the jail, I was required to post a bond of $50,000, which required a $5,000 non-refundable fee, up-front. I signed paperwork with the attorney, engaging my ex-wife with the power of attorney, and the $5,000 was paid, and I deposited $50,000 with the bond company, via a loan from my 401(k) account which took several days to arrange. The prosecutors, upon learning that I had come up with the $50,000 immediately made a motion to raise the bail amount to $150,000, but the judge summarily denied the motion, and I was eventually released.
My ex-wife picked me up from the jail, and very kindly drove me up to my home where I intended to salvage what I could of the contents of my home.
I called my insurance company to report the fire; the agent was doubtful of coverage because it appeared to him that the fire occurred during the commission of a crime. I explained to him that I had been charged, but not convicted of a crime and that I expected to be exonerated, and in any event, the fire was not my fault And, I expected that the loss of the home at its contents would be covered or I would file a lawsuit. I eventually hung up on the sneering agent, after promising him he would hear from my attorney.
The driveway still had the burned out car parked in it. The other car, that had been left behind during the commotion of my discovering the fire and then having been arrested, had been towed at the orders of the community managers of the Park. Instead of having the car moved to my driveway, or having it moved to Visitor parking, the car had been towed away to the towing company's holding yard.
My ex-wife drove me to the towing yard where the car was being held. I had to pay nearly $2,000 to retrieve the car, and then found that the front bumper area and the grill had been badly damaged during the towing process. My cell phone and the charging cable were missing.
The car, despite being damaged, started, though it immediately began flashing messages in the dash about inoperative parking sensors, due to the damage to the bumper, and I thanked my ex-wife profusely and told her to go on home, but she insisted on following me back to my home, and I saw that she really meant to stick with me so I agreed.
I arrived back at my home and my ex-wife & I surveyed the ruins and found there was little to be salvaged of the contents of the home.
A foul stench led me to the poor cats; they were dead, they were under the bed in my bedroom, having died of smoke and fumes. The birds were likewise dead. My medications stored in the kitchen, were destroyed, I would need to call my doctors to ask for refills.
The fire had emanated from the stove; the remains of cardboard evidence boxes, filled with the melted and scorched remains of my collection of DVD & Blu-Ray movies, and other items, including the contents of a firebox stored in my closet which was broken into, were scattered around the kitchen.
The stove had been pulled out and unplugged. It was obvious what had started the fire - the boxes holding the movies had been stacked at some point on the stovetop, and one of the burners had been turned on, probably one of the double burners, which quickly resulted in an intense and uncontrollable fire that quickly spread through the structure of the mobile home.
When I contacted my employer, I found that I had been summarily dismissed from my position; my mugshot had appeared on the Maricopa County Jail's website, and word had gotten round of my arrest and the nature of the charges were so distasteful that it was felt there was no possible way my employment could continue - no matter that I had not, as yet, been convicted of anything.
The mobile home park would not continue my lease, as I no longer had a job and could not meet the stringent income requirements. I was ordered to arrange the removal of the gutted home. I moved into a unused bedroom at my ex-wife's home, as she and her husband very kindly offered to let me stay with them for as long as it took for me to get back on my feet.
My attorney contacted the insurance company and arranged to have the remains of the destroyed mobile home removed. The fire damaged car was junked. Thankfully, it was paid off. I paid to have the damaged bumper and grill of the remaining car repaired.
In due course, during intervals of various court appearances, the charges filed against me by the Maricopa County prosecutors were dropped. The two desktops and the laptop computer had been scanned for any evidence of child pornography - no evidence was found. Thereafter, the computers disappeared and were presumed lost. I had to pay my former employer $1,300 for the loss of the laptop.
I eventually found work as an accountant for a property management company, working from home again, which suited me. I live in a studio apartment, which is all I can afford; it is plain and simple but it meets my needs. I'll never adopt a cat again, the loss of my pets is too painful to get past.
After some 90 days after the charges against me were dismissed, I was able to recover the $50,000 I had deposited for the bond - the $5,000 fee was non-refundable. I received a bill for the stay in the county jail, which I paid immediately.
My mugshot was circulated for many months on various mugshot websites, but though my name remained searchable, eventually the image was taken down.
According to my attorney, there would be no point in filing any lawsuits against the agents of Homeland Security, Carl and the rest of them were covered by the legal doctrine of "Qualified Immunity," which would prevent any of them being held accountable for their actions. The same "Qualified Immunity," applied to the Maricopa County Sherriff's office.
The mobile home that was lost had been paid off - and it formed an important part of my retirement plans. That has been lost now and I must now retrench and regroup and figure out what I can do for the future as far as retirement is concerned. I have rolled over the 401(k) account into a Roth retirement account. I'm sure I'll be able to figure something out.
My encounter with a Homeland Security agent at a carwash forever changed the course of my life.
I leave this record to serve as a warning to those who live in the United States - do not put yourself at the mercy of an agency who answers to no one, who is accountable to no one and is armed with the unlimited power to utterly destroy lives at their fingertips.
~Finis~ =============================================================================