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
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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.