Date: Sun, 18 Feb 2018 21:44:05 -0500
From: bldhrymn@aol.com
Subject: Catfish goes to Sea

Catfish Goes to Sea
By Bob Archman

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


If you enjoy these stories. Please consider giving a donation to Nifty!

The City Point was the flagship of the River Cruise Company. Founded by
Jonathan Smith, it provided tourist cruises of the James River and
Chesapeake area of Tidewater Virginia. The City Point had been a small,
well-appointed, up-scale ship from a bankrupt company that once gave tours
of the Mississippi. Smith got it for a song.

The plan was to provide tours, cruises, dinner theater, weddings and host
corporate meetings. If you wanted something on the water, the River Cruise
Company would do it. Tidewater Virginia is loaded with retired Naval
personnel, so it was easy to staff the ship.

Two weeks after the first cruise, the City Point had left Norfolk when a
fully-loaded, passenger jet ditched in the harbor. The ship was there to
save the passengers on nationwide television. The ship stopped, launched
its lifeboats and performed admirably. Its crew dove into the water to save
floundering passengers. Of course, naval launches, a ferry and pleasure
crafts joined in the rescue as soon as they could get there.

Within one minute the City Point became a world-famous ship. The Captain,
Paul Jones, was modest in a "I was just doing my job," way. Since much of
the crew was former Navy, they had performed well. The ship's passengers
happened to be nurses at a retirement party and that was good too.

Jonathan Smith profusely thanked his crew but did nothing else except take
hundreds of new bookings for his ship. He told a friend later that he had a
hundred million dollars of publicity for a two-million-dollar company.

Two years later he came to Catfish & Company. There had been some petty
pilfering going on and some passengers were misplacing things. It wasn't
serious yet, but he was suspicious and didn't want it to become serious. He
wanted us to send someone undercover to see what was up.

I said I was interested. I had been on a stake out as street person for a
month in Charlottesville. My beard which had been turning white had reached
muskrat size. He asked if I was going to play Short John Silver. That
worked out to be exactly my role. The ship had a pirate routine as a little
entertainment featuring Blackbeard. Smith said I could be either Short John
Silver or Silverbeard.

The ship has 20 staterooms, and two "steerage" compartments. These were
intended for school groups and could sleep 20. The men's facility was
basic, but the women's space was well appointed. The Presidential or Bridal
suite was the former Captain's quarters. There was room for ten male crew
members. The ship was heavily automated, so the crew was small.  Many of
the wait, kitchen and steward crew stayed on land. Dinner was often at a
restaurant on land. The restaurants loved the City Point. The ship kitchen
did breakfast and lunch as well as weddings and corporate events. As far as
I could tell the crew was mostly gay. That was the reason they had left the
Navy.

Friday through Sunday were the days for major entertainment and premium
passengers. The week days were school groups, historical tours and scout
groups. These were the meat and potatoes of the company. The weekends
provided the gravy.

I met Paul Jones and he told me his suspicions. He trusted the crew, but
someone might have suspect friend. He was smart and loyal to his crew, but
he wasn't a fool. Lives can be complicated. I also met with the
entertainment director, Sonny Montcure.  Sonny gave the impression he was
an empty-headed chorus boy, but he knew his stuff. He could sing, dance,
play the piano or guitar and write or act in a skit as necessary. He
decided I should be Silverbeard.

I discovered a real peg leg was the same as a prop peg leg. The crew
thought I was strange looking, but I was good in the skits. I can't act,
but I can be deadpan, a good skill for the butt of jokes. The men were a
bit uneasy when they first met me, but they really liked me when I got on
the shower.

As Silverbeard, I looked like something the cat dragged in. Thank god, a
big cock can make up for many deficiencies in the minds of gay
men. Eventually, I found out that in the minds of perhaps 90% of the City
Point's crew my cock was all the good looks I needed. The first night on
the ship included the practice run for "Silverbeard's Treasure" for a bunch
of boy scouts. Sonny wrote the script and added in jokes for the scouts. It
went over well. The scouts made a cook out style dinner that was good. I
knew one of the Scout Masters, but he didn't give me away. We dropped them
off at Jamestown.  They would take a bus back to Richmond.

We then went to Norfolk to pick up a group of advertising men who were
having training session. We also picked up a cabaret style singer for the
night's entertainment. She was regular entertainer on the ship. The singer,
Lola, came with a boyfriend who I thought wasn't quite right.

Sonny told me that he was a looser, but Lola liked him. Lola did a good
Marlena Dietrich style show. It was a free-style tribute, not just an
imitation. I noticed that the boyfriend didn't attend her performance. I
went looking for him and found him coming out of the crew quarters. Lola
had a small state room.

On the return trip to Norfolk, I noticed the boyfriend ignored the crew and
paid little attention to Lola. We dropped off the advertising people and
cleaned the rooms before we took a senior group on a historic tour of James
river plantations. While the crew was working on the ship, I searched the
crews' quarters. There were finger prints next to a removable panel on the
ceiling air conditioning valve. Everything was spic and span on the
ship. The prints had to be new. Behind the panel were three bags of white
powder. A trace of white powder is a clue, three bags in the mother of all
clues.

We picked up historic tour passengers, sailed at 3:00 and anchored at
Westover, a big plantation house. There was no dock there, so launches took
or passengers over to the house. I reported to the Captain. The bags could
be for a crew member, but they could not have been for a
passenger. Staterooms were not pre-assigned, so a passenger wouldn't know
which room he or she would get.

The passengers came back, had dinner and went to bed. It was an early night
on the ship. Taking a shower is complicated for a man with one leg, and
Roger, the man who ran the engines offer to help. Roger was almost as
shaggy as I was, but 100 pounds bigger. He picked me up like a sack of
potatoes and sat me on a bench. He was clearly interested in my cock.

"Is your cock as big as it looks, or is just that you are small," he asked
in a whisper. I told him that most guys seemed to think it was big. "It's
really pretty," he added.

"Most guys think it tastes better than it looks," I replied. Roger smiled.

"Some of us guys like the fool around once an a while," he said.

"To tell you the truth, I like to fool around a lot," I replied. The head
steward, William, came to the shower door and looked in. Roger gave the
thumbs up signal to him and two guys I had seen but didn't know.  I think
they worked in the engine room. There were three shower heads and five
men. No one seemed to mind being crowded.

Roger came close to me. Since I was sitting on a small bench, I leaned over
to suck his uncut tool. William got on his hands and knees and scooted
between Roger's legs, so he could suck me. Roger moaned as I peeled back
his foreskin to lick his tender knob. The men seemed even handed and traded
positions. Eventually, I took William's load and the two engine room guys
shared mine.

I left the shower, dried off and went to my bed. The interlude seemed to
increase my popularity with the crew. Sammy, the man who set up breakfast
got up at 5:00 came over to me. I fed him a nice load before breakfast. I
had nothing to do so I stayed in bed late and was able to check on the
three bags.  They hadn't been moved.  We stopped briefly at Shirley and
then finished the trip in Richmond where the passengers took bus tour. They
would take the bus back to tidewater. We were to host a corporate board
meeting and dinner that night. We would sail to Jamestown and then return
with no stops.

I called my office and asked them to check up on Lulu and her boyfriend. I
also called Jonathan Smith and made the same request of him. I talked
briefly with Paul Jones.  He said he would keep an eye on the
entertainment. He explained while they checked their staff carefully, the
entertainment was not checked. "You seem to have been a hit with the
staff," he said.

"I try to be nice to everyone," I replied.

"Roger gave you his seal of approval," Smith said as he leaned close to
me. "The crew can be friendly, maybe overly friendly for a man with your
qualifications. Would that be a problem?"

"I'm a friendly man too. Usually the only problem is that part of me is not
the right fit for some guys," I said.

Smith laughed. "That isn't a problem here. The crew has been around. They
have some mileage on them."

A food truck came up to the ship. The night's food was catered and much of
it prepared in advance, but several items on the menu had to be freshly
cooked. The Chef, Max, was an irritating prima donna. He was a good chef
and he calmed down once he was at work. He came with his own wait
staff. Everything had to be prefect for Max.

I noticed one oddity. Lulu rejoined the ship. When she returned she had a
different boyfriend. I took a quick picture of him before they went
inside. He left the ship before the passengers embarked. I went to the crew
quarters and saw that the fingerprints at the panel were gone along with
the three bags of white powder. I sent the photo to my office. My office
guys had friendly connections to the local and state police and could check
the picture with them.

The guests were well dressed, wealthy and pleasant. The board members were
mostly male and older. Their wives were either well-coiffed older women, or
overdressed trophy wives. They politely kept apart. Several corporate staff
members were there with their nervous wives. The ship's crew was attentive
and provided service with a smile. I knew Rebecca Masters one of the wives;
she didn't give any indication that she knew me.

Rebecca saw me alone a little later and came over to me. "Are you here
professionally?"

I nodded and added, "There is no problem for any of you."

"A friend misplaced her earrings while on a cruise," he mentioned.

"I know that," I said. Rebecca smiled and joined the other wives. The trip
was without incident. I got to like Max. He said the prima donna act was
just playing a role. It was expected of a Chef. It was popular with the
upper crust. I asked if he ever had a problem with pilfering by his people.

Max laughed, "Have you ever met Johnny No-Fingers? He hangs around bars in
Richmond. He used to work for me and accidentally had some silverware in
his jacket. There was a little accident and he lost some fingers. There are
vile rumors that it wasn't an accident, but I do not discourage the
rumors," he explained. "My staff is honest." Max was a big man with a big
cock and huge balls. He called his cock "Old Faithful." That wasn't because
of the regularity of the eruptions, but the height of the geyser's
spray. We connected once but since he lived in Richmond, we could easily
get together again.

The next trip was a four-day excursion for annual convention of the
Tidewater Bear Club. We picked up some men in Richmond, and a second batch
in Norfolk. There were about sixty men, most were big and hairy. There were
some otters and some bear aficionados. The ship was crowded, but the guys
seemed to be okay with sharing beds. I was surprised that Max was doing the
cooking. He was a member of the Tidewater Bears. I was even more surprised
when Jonathan Smith joined us in Norfolk. He was also a member of the club.

I was expecting it to be a raucous group. They were big and loud and
enthusiastic. Jonathan had given them a special rate if there was no damage
and no drunkenness on the ship. He told them since it was an all-male
cruise they could wear as little or as much as they wanted as long as they
pissed in the toilets and didn't puke on the carpets. Max knew which
members had drinking problem and he watched them.  Everyone knew the Johnny
No-fingers story. Nobody crossed Max

The men were dressed on main deck, but on the sun deck and inside the ship,
the dress code was very informal. Jonathan told me he hoped that openly
acceptable lust would make up for the limited alcoholic intake. Sonny had
created a mildly pornographic version of the Silverbeard skit to open the
night's entertainment. I asked him if he minded being with the bears who
weren't exactly his type.

"I hate to admit this, but as long as a guy has a cock, I can make do," he
replied. I laughed.

Back at the crew quarters, I hooked up my laptop and checked with my
office. My computer guys were on the ball as usual. Helen had found Lulu on
the web site of something called Raise the Curtin, your complete live
entertainment site. The company found acts for special occasions, like
weddings and office parties. Helen, who joined my computer guys after she
hit the glass ceiling at here previous job, was obsessively thorough. She
was going to the next head guy, when my current head retired in a few
months. Helen found the owners of the Raise the Curtin and found their
other businesses. They included an import and export firm, a series of
novelty shops and Men's Clubs.

I assumed that was shorthand for smuggling, drugs, porn and prostitution. I
asked Helen to track down the shops and clubs' locations. I assumed the
City Point was a safe way to transport drugs. She asked if I wanted to send
operatives to check out the locations. I told her a quick exploratory visit
might be good. I spent the rest of the afternoon working on my lines.

Around 4:00, I went to the stateroom level and made friends with some of
the guys. I am not a bear, and most otters lose their sparkle at
fifty. Apparently being a one-legged, miniature Abominable Snowman was
acceptable. Several men knew me, but no one said anything.

I was playing a marooned pirate in the evenings drama, so I was wearing
clothes with holes and tears. Sonny made the costume, and my cock would be
playing peek-a-boo with the audience. I certainly was popular with the men
in the corridors.

I walked by Smith's room and he called me in. He was with the Captain. I
gave a report on the day discoveries.

"Damn, I thought Raise the Curtin was giving me a good price because the
wanted the exposure," Smith said. "That explains a lot."

"We haven't proved it yet, and it doesn't explain the pilfering," I
said. "Drug dealers avoid petty crimes. It's bad to be arrested for
pick-pocketing when you have thousands of dollars in drugs on you." I
moved; my pants shifted, and my cock flopped out.

"What in hell did you do to deserve that cock!" Smith exclaimed. Jones
laughed.

"My Uncle Jake said that I was given so much physical beauty, that god gave
me a gross, oversized cock to equal things out," I said.

"Was he serious about that?" Smith asked.

"I'm not sure he was ever serious when he was talking about cocks," I
said. "He was a well-equipped, good looking guy. "He was pretty hairy, but
somehow no one accused him of being the missing link."

"Did people accuse you of being the missing link," Jones asked.

"They tried the missing link, Sasquatch, a chimp in need of a shave and
Godzilla's dwarf brother," I said.

"You must have had a bad childhood," the Captain said.

"I'm not the most sensitive guy in the world," I replied. "Uncle Jake said
since my cock was huge, all the chimp talk was just jealousy."

That night I discovered that Sonny had a gift for porn. Porn can be boring,
but Sonny was clever, funny, imaginative and fun.

The plot involved Silverbeard looking for a hole to bury his
treasure. Sonny had a knack for the double, triple and quadruple
entendres. I did well, but I admit my cock played a role. It emerged into
view through my torn costume when I mentioned treasure. Shakespeare would
have rolled over in his grave and giggled. Alas, it was not destined for
Broadway or even dinner theater.

Max had baked an impressive desert, and the men were happy. Max also took
care of my social life. I was in the land if the giants, and he made sure
no one rolled over on me. He didn't need to worry, but Max didn't leave
anything to chance. He also wanted me to be his sexual desert. He had
sucked me before and thought my precum was a taste treat.

The walk back to the crew quarters past the staterooms was an
adventure. The men were mostly nude, except for some who liked leather
accessories. They were semi hard or fully erect. There were men renewing
old acquaintances or making new friends. Some of the younger men were on
the prowl, but the older guys were more relaxed. It was a four-day event,
and they had time.

I was surprised at the number of guys who wanted a selfie with me. More
correctly they wanted a selfie with my cock. They like a variety of
poses. A few wanted to suck it or kiss it. The best selfies were when I
rested my knob on their tongue. My cock tends to drool precum and dripping
precum was a nice touch.

I was getting tired, so I went to my bunk to sleep after two hours at the
state rooms. Max came in and offered to suck me to sleep.  He was a
delicate sucker and seemed to think sex drool was a delicacy. He sucked me
to an orgasm, and I assume he ate every drop. I was asleep before the last
ejaculation. I awoke the next morning ejaculating into the mouth of another
guy. He didn't swallow; he wanted to share it with his lover. That seemed
like a questionable idea, but I saw him with an otter on deck happy as a
lark.  I called the office and talked with Helen.

Helen didn't seem to sleep much, she loved working at night when internet
traffic was lighter. She had looked deeper into Raise the Curtin's
owners. There were names on the corporate documents, but not
investors. Bud, one of our retirees, was close to Helen. He was a retired
accountant and an old-fashioned gentleman. He worked through the night when
Helen worked because women shouldn't be alone at night at work. He was 77
years old and not bodyguard material, but he didn't see it that way.

Bud discovered Raise the Curtin's cyber security was poor and found a list
of investors. It included the Gamma Corporation which owned 80% of the
company. A little checking found that Gamma was a corporate raider which
bought troubled corporations for a song. There were law suits that claimed
that Gamma was involved in causing the troubles that ruined the companies.

One of these companies was Atlantic Seaside Resorts. It had oceanfront
properties in Virginia Beach and on the bay. Atlantic suffered from
robberies, a small fire, two attempted rapes and dead body found in a
room. It went bankrupt and Gamma bought it. The crimes stopped.  The same
thing happened to a hotel near Annapolis and one in Nags Head. Bud was into
probability analysis. Three similar events are very unlikely. The resorts
were in different states, so it may have been under police radar.

When I got Bud's report I realized the City Point was next on Gamma's list.