Date: Fri, 2 Aug 2013 12:38:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Catfish Finds Old Gold 2

Catfish Finds Old Gold 2
By Bald Hairy Man

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

You would think that finding the remains of the Confederate States'
Treasury and two bodies, one antique and one modern, would be enough for a
day. The day became more complicated. I called the police; Livingston
called the Chairman of his organization, Philip Oberman, and Rich called
Department Chair. This was a joint effort between Livingston's Trust and
the University.  Everything about the island was sensation. The gold and
the two bodies were all the stuff of a television special if not a
mini-series.

I called Captain Miller of the Richmond Police to report the deaths. He was
the head of the homicide division.  He immediately knew this would be a
high profile investigation and he said he would assign his to people to
it. Livingston's Chairman realized the discovery of the gold would turn the
society into a major organization.  There was an outside chance they might
get a finder's fee for the gold.  The department chair of Rick's university
wanted to enhance the school's reputation. He called the university
president, a former governor. They all wanted to delay the media circus
that would inevitably result from the discoveries.

I had another worry. I'm not an expert in sneakers, but I thought what I
saw on the new victim's feet were not particularly old. I thought they were
twenty years old or so.  If that was true and if the body was a murder
victim, the murderer could still be at large. We had no idea if the death
was accidental or a murder, but I was uneasy.  It also meant someone knew
about the gold and was willing to kill for it.

There was no way to get the bodies out until we opened the vaults.  There
was nothing that could be done for several days. Keeping the discoveries
quiet was going to be a major effort. After meeting with Miller we decided
the best course was to seal up the hatch and go back to the shore. I left
Bubba and Lamont on the island. They were former Cops and Miller knew them.
They liked to camp. That night Livingston called and asked that I attend a
meeting at the foundation's headquarters at 7:00 the next morning.

When I got there, Livingston was with Captain Miller, the Chairman of the
Virginia Historic Trust, Philip Oberman, and the university president,
former Governor Donlan. To say I was out ranked understated the case. John,
my contractor friend was there too. Opening the vault required some
professional advice. Livingston took charge of the meeting.

"Let me get the ball rolling. Yesterday we found what may very well be the
remains of the Confederate Treasury and two bodies. After looking at the
photographs, [BW1]Captain Miller and I believe one of the bodies is a
Confederate soldier, and the other is more recent. The other body was
wearing Air Jordans. You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to know what that
means," he said. "As soon as this situation becomes public knowledge, we
will be in the middle of a three ring circus."

"It seems to me that the longer we delay public knowledge, the better it
will be for all of our investigations. It will give us time to work without
the media spotlight.  There is a chance there is a murderer loose. This
will also let our lawyers have a chance to investigate who owns the gold
and determine its proper disposition.  I would like to propose that we
quietly proceed with the excavations and retrieve the gold and the bodies."

"We will assign some undercover men to the project until we can open the
vault," Miller said. "It is a crime scene, and will need to treat it as
such. I assume you are agreeable?"

"I think the murder investigation takes precedence over our archaeological
interests," Livingston said. "I will say our archaeological approach is
methodical in the extreme. I think we can work well with the police."

"I have four people on the job already," I said. "Do you want me to
withdraw them?"

"I have no problem with Catfish & Company staying on the job," Miller
said. "You can be much more undercover than I can.  My men don't mix well
with the students.  Most are well known to the press."

"I'm not sure we can keep it quiet," I said. "There will be too many people
who know about it."

"We can only do what we can," Governor Donlan said. "Our lawyers are good
about keeping secrets."

"Given the sensational aspect of the gold, I have some people checking out
the internet Civil War sites," I said. "There are several sites devoted to
missing Confederate Gold. By the way, it seems these sites are into Nazi
gold too. The Gold Bugs fall into two groups. One group is made up of old
fashioned fortune hunters. There is a second group that thinks the gold
belongs to the Confederacy. They hope to use it to recreate the Old
South. When they hear the news have of the nut jobs in the nation will
descend on us."

"Those groups sound delusional," Oberman said.

"One of my men has gotten into the groups pretty deep. He says it is
delusional and he suspects mental illness plays a role. It's cult
like. Several seem to be into violence, revenge and getting what has been
stolen from them by slaves, carpet baggers and Jews. Violence can accompany
delusions. We are better off with the fortune hunters."

 I was due at the dock to return to the island. I excused myself and left
the floor to the big boys. When I got to the dock, there were two men
waiting for me. One was Detective Ronnie Smith who I knew. The other was a
patrolman Otis Green.  He was new to me.  Ronnie was a good man. He seemed
like a good ol' boy but he was smart and perceptive. I called Bill over and
introduced them to the construction crew and my men. Smith and Green would
fit in with the construction workers.

We went to the island and got back to work. I spent the morning digging out
the sand to expose the stone infill of the big arch. Bill explained that
arches are self-supporting, but the wall might be weaker. There was some
good stone work at the lower parts of the wall, but the upper parts of the
wall did not look that well-built. Livingston hoped there was a door in the
wall, but the lower parts were under sand. Around 11:00 we found long, wide
stone, and Bill hoped it was a lintel above a door.

Rodney and Sally brought everything to a standstill when she discovered a
skull almost six feet down.  It was resting against the wall. Ronnie called
in for a forensic team.  People die in the river all the time.  They drown
and finding the bodies is not a sure thing; floods can wash away bodies
from up stream. I hoped this might be a bone deposited by high water.

Sally soon found other bones and we clearly had an entire body.  A little
later it was clear there were too many bones.  She also found a bullet
embedded in one of the bones. It seems we had uncovered a mass murder. The
forensic team and the archaeologists in our team had a great time.  This
was meat and potatoes for them.

A professor of Archaeology, Wilbur Devane, joined the group. He arrived
with additional people from the medical examiner's office. Devane was into
skeletons big time.  He was expert and took the lead in the excavation of
the bodies at the wall.  He had been in Central America working on war
crimes investigations. He said the bodies outside the vault were indeed
antique, and had been killed execution style. They had been lined up
against the wall and shot.

He also suggested they were three black men who were used to very heavy
labor and one white man. He too was a worker. "The black men show signs of
malnutrition and heavy labor," he said.

"Slaves?"  I asked.

"That would be my guess," Devane said. "The white man was Irish I think."

"How in hell do you know that?" I asked.

"I found a gold chain with a medallion of the Virgin Mary," he said. "The
arch of the vault looks like the canal stonework. It was done by Irish
masons. There were few Catholics in Richmond at this time. Thus I think he
may have been an Irish stonemason."

"Could they be deserters?' I asked.

"Well, as far as I can tell, in April of 1865, everyone was deserting,
including the president," Devane said. "There were no blacks in the
Confederate army."

"Is this like the old movies where they kill the slaves who knew the secret
entrance to the Pharaoh's tomb?" I asked.

"That might be closer to the truth," he said.

"Would they shoot a white man?"

"If he was an immigrant, a Catholic and an Irishman, they might," Devane
said. "That the trifecta for the No Nothings."

"No nothings?"

"The No Nothings were a political party in the 1840 and 50s," he
explained. "They hated Catholics and immigrants."

"Sort of like modern republicans?" I asked.

Devane burst out laughing. "I don't think they were that bad!" he replied,
still laughing.

Bill, Rick and the construction crew had reached the bottom of the
wall. There was a door opening sealed up with stone. It was too late to
open the doorway. Livingston decided to call it a day

It was a long and tiring day, but I decided to stay on the island that
night. Bubba had to go, and I had received word from the Geezer Patrol that
there were rumblings in the South will rise again world. There were a
series of messages about Judah Benjamin, and discussing his escape to
England. That was a surprise since Lee, Stuart and Stonewall Jackson were
the normal subjects of conversation. It was possible our discovery of his
initials two days earlier was a coincidence, but I thought not.

The outbreak of interest in Benjamin was unexpected. There were also some
comments about Jews undermining the Confederacy too. I assumed a little
anti-Semitism was always near the surface in these groups. Ronnie was going
to increase patrols on the shore of the James.

Lamont, Lee and Otis were on the island for the night. Otis maintained the
official police presence on the island. We had two tents and some left over
sandwiches, but at 7:00 a boat brought some dinner. I knew it was Ari's
cooking as soon as I smelled it. Ari was a good cook, but he was also a
sensible man. We had been working hard all day, and the food was just what
we needed. I noticed it didn't require refrigeration, and that the left
overs would be good for breakfast the next morning.

Lamont and Lee set up camp on the south side of the island.  Otis and I
were on the Northside. After dark we did some skinny dipping and washed
off. I was tired and fell asleep. Otis was on watch to midnight.  I would
take over for the graveyard shift. Just before mid-night there was a
terrific thunderstorm followed by a downpour.

Otis returned to the tent soaked to the bone. We didn't have any towels,
but the tent was still warm and had become stuffy when I closed the flaps.

"It's strange being naked in a tent with a guy," Otis said.

"You may have heard something's about me, but don't worry. You virtue is
safe with me," I said.

"Guys said you were into lots of stuff," he whispered.

"Well, there may be stories floating around," I said.  "As far as I can
tell, all are true. I admit I like some fun, but I don't go looking for
it. Fun finds me."

There was a period of silence. "Are you as big as they say?" he asked,

"If it wasn't so dark, we could do a little show and tell," I said. I could
almost sense the disappointment in the air.

"I was just curious," he said. There was an outbreak of lightening that
briefly illuminated the tent. Otis was looked at my crotch. I was wearing
boxers. The tent was dark again.

"I don't mind a grope," I said. "Just to satisfy your curiosity."

"I couldn't do that."

"A lot of men are curious about it," I said. "It doesn't bother me at all."
I dropped my boxers. His hand touched my leg then immediately went for my
cock.

"It is big," he said as he quickly pull his hand away.

"I'm not a shy man. Take your time," I said.

"I don't want you to think I'm a .  .  ." Otis whispered.

"I don't care what you are as long as it feels good," I said. "Play with
it, make it hard." A little later I reached over and groped Otis. He was
rock hard. He had an average cock but a big mushroom head and huge balls.

"I'm not sure gay sex or straight sex exists," I whispered. "There are only
hard cocks and balls filled with spunk." He shivered a little.

"Something tell me that yours are over filled," I said.

"Be careful, I make a real mess when I shoot off," he said. I leaned over
and took his cockhead into my mouth.  I was just in time. My tongue was on
his slit in time for the first spurt. I remembered my first time with my
pal Vince. He is known as fire hose. Otis could give him a run for his
money in both strength of ejaculation and for amount of semen.

I will say I rose to the occasion and took it all. When he calmed down I
continued to work on his cock for another twenty minutes or so. He was too
wiped out to complain. He rewarded me with a second orgasm. It was
impressive too. He fell asleep. The rain was over and I took up watch.

He woke at six and came out to see me. It was a beautiful dawn over the
river.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think I would do that," Otis said.

"I like a late night snack," I said. "There I no need to apologize."

"What do I need to do?" he asked.

"As far as I can tell, we both had a good time. I think things are pretty
equal."

Otis was silent for a while. "I liked it much more than I thought I would,"
he said.

I smiled. "What's not to like in what we did?" Lee joined us and the
conversation stopped.

The river was high following the rain. How high would depend on how much
rain fell up stream.  During a drought, the river is a rock garden with
only a few trickles of water. Like most shallow rivers, it was subject to
violent floods. I wondered about the situation in April of 1865. It would
be impossible to transport the gold if the river was high. The rock garden
turned into impressive and impassible rapids.

Floods are rare, but in the 19th century there was no way to forecast
them. There was the telegraph, but rural Virginia was very rural and there
was no organized forecasting until the 1880s. While the gold may have been
safely packed away on Vauxhall Island, the fleeing Confederate Government
may have been hundreds of miles away by the time the James River calmed
down.

At 7:30 Captain Billy appeared with the rest of the crew. Captain Billy was
an intelligent and knowledgeable man who hid his knowledge under a persona
as an Old Sea Dog. Most people thought he was a character. He had been an
actor at an earlier point in his life and he seemed to be part Long John
Silver and part Hemingway.  He knew every rock and boulder in the river and
he had no problem reaching the island in the rough water.

Compared to the previous days, this day was uneventful. It was a day of
drudgery, for both the forensic group and the rock movers. The door was
twelve feet high and the upper part of the infill was badly built. Bubba
tried the quick and easy way and a small part of the wall fell. A small
stone could be a hundred and fifty pounds. It could easily do serious
damage.

We also had to stop work when the forensic team passed by. John sent over
some lumber and his men built a covered walk to protect the
archeologist[BW2] and the people form the Medical Examiner's office. So far
there was a total of six bodies on the island. We didn't need anymore.

I had hoped to get some serious thinking done, but I was too busy and the
island too dangerous. The potential for falling stone was a problem, but
vines were a constant trip hazard. Every place you moved some dirt, vines
and roots appeared. That is how the island survived the floods. A sand bar
could vanish in a single event, but the vines were strong and tenuous. They
trapped silt insuring the islands survival. At the end of the day the four
skeletons were at the Examiner's laboratory we had three feet of stone
removed from the top of the wall. The next day would be more productive.

I called my office and my Geezers said that the world was out. So far it
was still just "something had been found on the island. Our honeymoon with
the media would be over soon. I decided to beef up the crew on the
island. Since we had additional men on the island and only two tents, we
needed more accommodation.  Captain Billy said he had some room on the boat
and he would stay in the river. His boat was covered. Otis and I took the
places on the boat, leaving our tent to the new to a second policeman and
Bubba.

I knew Billy pretty well.  We had played some, but while he was a bit older
than I was, his tastes ran to younger men. He had great gaydar and I
guessed he had some suspicions about Otis.



There was only one easy way to get to the island by water. That was from
the east, past Mayo's island. There was a large sand bar next to this
approach and Captain Billy thought we should anchor his boat there, and
thus we would have a good view of the access.

"Can't they just walk across the rocks further upstream?" Otis asked.

"In low water and with a full moon they might possibly make it," Billy
replied. "They would have to know the river really well and be really lucky
to make it tonight. There were some big storms to the west this morning.
That water will be reaching us sometime tonight. By one or two the river
will be treacherous. We had Ari's dinner and then went off. Everyone would
have a period on watch, but everyone was tired too. We all needed to rest.

The boat, Billy's Revenge, looked only marginally more comfortable than the
tents, but Billy had air mattresses. We anchored near the sandbar While the
river was pitch dark, the lights of the high-rise banks and office
buildings of Downtown were pretty. It was a warm muggy night. I jumped in
the water to cool off and clean up. A mist rose from the river and the
buildings disappeared. It was odd to be so secluded in the middle of the
city.

When I returned to the boat, Captain Billy and Otis jumped into the
water. I had skinny dipped and didn't dress again as I dripped dry. When
they returned, I could tell Billy and Otis had connected. I am not exactly
the shy type, but Billy was direct.

When I remembered when I met him years before and he worked his charms on
me. I was at the urinal of a bar when he went to the one next to me. He
looked at my cock.

"How in hell did an ugly bastard like you get a cock like that!" he
said. "It belongs in a fucking museum!"

"Daddy told me his momma was fucked by a donkey and he got the donkey's
good looks and his cock," I said.

"Can anyone deep throat that thing?" he asked.

"A lot of guys are willing to try."

"I'd like to give it the old college try," he said. "I don't know if I
could take the whole thing, but I'd like to make the effort."

"I hate to get all hot and bothered with a guy who can only take half of
it," I said.

"What can I say to change your mind about that?" Billy asked.

"Well, I like to fuck.  If your hole is too small I can always make it
bigger," I replied. Oddly. Billy took me up on the offer. He didn't exactly
deep throat it, but he came real close.  I don't like to fuck guys who
aren't into it, but a few years later I discovered his hole was big
enough. It was snug, but fun. I didn't know if Billy had used the same
subtle approach on Otis, but they hit it off.

I said I would take the first watch. I sat on the bow watching the river
through the mist. Billy moaned a few times as did Otis. All was well.

At midnight, Billy came out and said he would take the next watch. "I love
the river at night," he said.

"It's hard to see anything in the mist," I said.

"Don't worry, I can tell the difference between a boat and a duck or a
raccoon," Billy said. "There a difference in the sound water hitting a rock
and a paddle too." He leaned close to me.  "Otis is a nice boy. He has a
lot to give."

"I bet he has given a lot tonight already," I said.

"That is true, but I think he has a lot more," Billy replied. "He's young
and wants more.  Help him out some." I returned to the cabin. Otis was
asleep and the second my head hit the pillow, I was asleep too.

When I woke at 5:30, Otis was up and looking at me. I was naked and spread
eagled on the bed.

"Damn it's big," he said.

"And pretty too?"

"Not really, he said. "It's kind of gross, but I can't figure why it's so
sexy and turns me on so much."

"I don't think that you have much choice when it comes to what turns you
on. You may want to get excited by some things and not by others, but it's
not what you want. My cock seems to have a mind of its own."

"I was hoping to find the right girl," Otis said.

"That may happen, you never know when you might encounter someone who is
just right," I said. "I can be happy with Mr. Right Now. Proximity trumps
searching for true love every time."

"Billy said I should suck you."

"That is up to you, not Billy."

"Did he suck you?" I asked.

"He did, it was good, but not as good as with you," Otis said. He
paused. "I sucked him and almost took his load."

"How was it?"

"It was good, much better that I expected." We were both nude and naked men
can't hide anything. He was confused and uneasy, but his cock had other
needs as did mine.

"Have you ever sixty-nined?" I asked.  I knew the answer. "Why don't you
straddle my face and dangle your cock within licking distance? You can take
an up close and personal view of my privates and we can see what happens?"

There was no surprise to me as to what happened. As his lips eventually
touched my cock head I could taste his cock saying, "Thank you Jesus," by
squirting an impressive glob of precum into my mouth.  I don't think he
understood the extent of his preference for men, but his cock knew.

His precum flow was a sexual thermometer. He didn't last long. On his
second ejaculation, I let loose. I'm not sure he would have taken my cream
if he hadn't been mid-orgasm, but he did and he took it all.