Excavating a Pyramid. 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 or bldhrymn@aol.com
In the jungle environment women were highly valued, but fragile. Childbirth was dangerous and pregnancies were carefully planned. Random sex was not allowed. It was too risky. The local inhabitants seemed to define sex as only between a man and a woman, the mother of his children. Interaction between men was not sex.
Connecting with a high-status man was fine, slumming was not. While I was not a local, I was the head of the excavation. I was also fair and generous to the people who worked for me. I was unusual since I was also willing to bottom and was generous letting them breed me. In their minds when I shot off in them, I was reinjecting their sperm as enhanced by my manly qualities.
If I were a better man, I would not have participated. I have to confess I didn't seriously consider that. The high road wasn't for me. Santiago selected the men to visit me. Santiago's life as a guerilla depended on finding good, loyal men. His taste in men matched mine.
The first man to visit me was Jesus, a thirty-year-old Indian. He was five feet four and muscular. I later found out he was the son of a local leader. He had been doing hard work in the excavation, so we showered. I surprised him by sucking his uncut cock while we showered. He seemed to have extra foreskin. When I peeled it back his knob was sensitive. I pushed my tongue into the tube and used it to lick his cock to an erection. He was shocked when I took his load and swallowed. We dozed off after the encounter.
Before Jesus left, he poked his cock into my ass. He was a gentle. He didn't fuck, he caressed my ass. When he shot off, I shot off too. Jesus licked up every drop of my load before he left.
Apparently, I received rave reviews from Jesus and that pleased Santiago. Written contracts and agreements with the people in the area meant nothing. An exchange of sperm and being treated as an equal was an unbreakable agreement.
At the excavation, the technicians did extensive radar probes of the two pyramids. The big pyramid was a large earth and rock pile, embellished with carved stones and inscriptions on the surface.
The radar investigation of the smaller pyramid showed a massive, cross shaped feature inside the pyramid. Normally, radar images were fuzzy. These images were crisp and clear. We immediately set a part of the crew clearing the vegetation from the smaller pyramid. Two days later they exposed the entrance to the cruciform interior feature.
We had a direct computer connection to Sparky's staff in Philadelphia. They were still basking in the success of their equipment in Scotland. Two days later, three of Sparky's guys, Mel, John, and Liz arrived to get firsthand knowledge. They came with a few hundred thousand dollars of equipment. Liz had been at Penn when Maria was there, and they hit it off immediately. They interviewed local technical people to help with the gizmo's. They also arrived with Duncan Miller, a photographer, and Billy Miller a videographer. They were going to produce professional level documentation of the excavation.
Duncan was a difficult man. He was an ordained priest of the Church of the Absolutely Perfect Photograph. He drove me crazy. His only redeeming feature was that his photos were absolutely perfect. I had a hoped that they would be bad just to get rid of him. In contrast, Billy was a wild and crazy guy, who was also good at his job. When we met, Billy checked out my crotch before he looked at my face.
The entrance was covered in plaster. The plaster was in near perfect condition. We took a small sample sent it to Sparky's labs for analysis. Since the plaster had survived for four or five centuries, we wanted to know what it was. It wasn't Home Depot or Lowes standard mix. We needed to remove it safely get into the cruciform inner chamber.
Radar imagery indicated there was a stone slab behind the plaster that sealed the door. The first images indicated it was a rough hard stone, like granite. The computer crew then increased the number of pixels per inch. When the print of the fourth scan emerged, I was shocked and exclaimed, "It's covered in hieroglyphs!" The hieroglyphs were small, perhaps two inches square. There were 40 lines of densely packed glyphs. I didn't know of any Mayan inscriptions of that sort.
Statues and golden jewelry are the public's view of great archaeological finds. Inscriptions are often the most significant finds. A large portion of archaeological knowledge is suppositions and educated guesses. Inscriptions provide real information. It can tell us what the ancients thought they were doing, not what we supposed they were doing.
Duncan and the head radar men, Freddy, got along well, and they were finding ways to get better images of the glyphs. About a third were clearly legible. If you compared these to the fragmentary images, you could assume if there was a 50% match, they were repeated glyphs. This was logical because known inscriptions tended to be repetitive. These were like, "Chief XXXX took the throne in XXXX year, and died in XXXX. Other ones were "Chief XXXX went to War against XXXX and defeated them." About 50% of the inscriptions were of this nature. Similar repetitive inscriptions dealt with the gods. By finding partial glyphs, you could decipher much more of the inscription.
We also publicly distributed our photographs. When I said publicly, it was to the archaeological community. Any linguistic scholar could try to translate the text. This was a popular move and speeded up the translating process greatly.
The crew was clearing the other three sides of the pyramid. There was a sealed door in the middle of each side. The eastern and western doors had offerings in elaborate, lidded ceramic vessels in front of each. We were able to recover them without damage.
The east and west are the directions of the rising and setting sun. The Mayan sun god was Kinich Ahau. Later, he tended to merge with Christian traditions. The western ornamental vessel contained the last offering. We couldn't tell what it was, but in the lab, they determined it was a human heart.
That struck me as a revolting. The old Mayan hands told me they were relieved it was just a single heart. At a later date, the Aztecs sacrificed hundreds if not thousands of human beings.
The radar scans indicated that while the doors were ornamented, the frames were not. Sparky's high powered miniature drones were on the way from England so we would be able to get a view inside the chamber. Sparky and Alistair were following the excavation but did not visit the site. El Toro and the new government received all the publicity.
While Sparky's people were working out the best way to get into the pyramid's chambers, our crew concentrated on the palace platforms. The platforms could house priests, monasteries, or schools. Modern technology allowed us to study traces of materials that were not evident to earlier archaeologists.
We knew there were temples and shrines. We knew little about housing, since most of it was wooden and had rotted leaving no trace. Our crew was looking for traces of people who lived on the site.
My connection with Santiago and Jesus was good. Jesus was a descendent of the indigenous inhabitants of the area. In that society, personal connections were between master and servant. The concept of mutually enjoyable relationships was rare. Jesus introduced me to Juan, a cousin.
Jesus told me that Juan and I would get along well. Juan came to see me. He was younger than Jesus, but taller and even more muscular. He had been working on the smaller pyramid and the doors. For a muscle man he had a delicate touch, and he was good with fragile items. Earlier in the excavation he was working on the raised platforms. He noticed regular indentations in the mud. This was the indication of the original walls. He cleaned the debris from the marks and exposed the entire design of the walls.
While Juan had done the original work, he had never seen the computer printouts of the suggested restoration. He was impressed and told me that some of the older houses of the area used woven plant materials in a half-timbered looking frame. He also told me the corner of the houses had cross pieces that formed an X. I loaded the photographs on the computer, and you could identify slight indications of cross bracing. That clarified the construction of the wood framed building.
We had a few beers, and I showed him our housing. He was impressed especially by the shower and the water filtration system. We showered together. Water pressure impressed him as did my cock. Juan was not like Jesus. For Jesus man sex was an alternative to preferable sex with women. Juan liked men. Juan was more experienced than Jesus and more enthusiastic.
We had the standard accidental bump in the shower, followed by the non-accidental touch. I dropped to my knees and swallowed as much of his cock as I could. Peeling back his foreskin I tasted some pre cum seconds later. We got out of the shower, dried off and went to my room. There we continued our explorations.
I introduced him to lubricants. They greatly eased his cock's entrance into an ass. His cock was close to being a butt plug. The lubricants were good for him, since they enhanced his thrusting ability, improving both the speed and thrusting technique. He seemed shocked when I wanted him to fuck me. I noticed that he got over his shock quickly.
His improved sexual skills seemed to turn my ass into an amusement park for him. This was unlike the quick fuck and shoot off that was typical of local practice. Juan had a thick six-inch cock, but he had a large, bloated cock head. It was tight getting it past my sphincter, but it was lovely deep in my ass. I think my prostate bonded with it on contact. It was good for me, but I sensed it was better for him. His cock seemed to savor my ass.
Cocks have a clear vision of their objective. Juan knew he was on the road to an orgasm, but now he had time to look at the scenery on the way. He told me later it had been beautiful on the way, but he was afraid the pleasure on the trip would diminish the orgasm. His orgasm was spectacular. He didn't need to tell me that, I had felt the force of his sperm tickling my ass. He was tired and went home but asked if we could do it again. Of course, I said yes.
Ten minutes later Santiago came by to see me. "Juan is a good man," he said. "Was he good for you?"
I smiled. "He is a good man; I think he had good time with me."
"He told me things were very good," Santiago said. "Are you tired?"
"I'm not too tired to enjoy being with an old friend," I replied.
Santiago stripped and bent over to suck me. He looked up and asked if I had fucked Juan. I said no, but it had been a pleasurable experience.
"Maybe I can be more pleasurable," he said as he sat on my cock. It was a good fit. It took a minute for me to realize this was Santiago's favorite position. He did a dance on my hard cock. It was lovely and eventually he shot off. I captured several of his volleys in my mouth. This pleased him greatly, but not as much as I enjoyed his man seed. It was a good ending for a good day.
The next day there were whispers about men coming to take the antiquities. I thought back to my experience in Scotland. Cristóbal was a different place. The legal and judiciary systems were in ruins. El Toro was trying to rebuild them, but that was a work in progress.
I suspected that Santiago and his men had direct ways of handling criminals. I knew enough to not ask what they were. By the time tourists and investors arrived at our site the area would be peaceful and picturesque. The bodies of the criminals and looters would vanish from the jungle.
We had a major outbreak of additional technicians. They came with the newest iterations of the equipment we had used in Scotland. They were trained by the men I knew in Scotland, and I had a feeling some were here because we would be sexually compatible.
We had major changes in staff. Roddy and his crew returned to England to run an excavation they had committed to staff. We were edging close to summer and the climate was a real problem for them. They longed for the chill damp of England.
Jesus and Juan took over the local staff. They had quickly understood the needs of an archaeological digger. You had to combine hard manual labor with a delicate touch and a sharp eye. The local diggers were used to hard work, and Roddy's reward for finds system encouraged careful observation.
For years, the civil war had forced the area into what was a barter economy. The flow of money from the excavation revived the economy. The return of the education system and health systems began to transform the area.
Jesus and Juan were well respected and got along well with the technical crew. The technical crew leaders were Crosby Miller and Mad-Dog Malloy. In most situations Crosby and Mad Dog were square pegs in a square hole. They were free spirits, computer nerds, mad men inventors. They would scare away corporate types. They were the sort of people who could not get past the receptionists and security at the main entrance.
Sparky had and odd ability to find the genius in the eccentricity. They arrived at the excavation with incredible sophisticated equipment, and they loved the local village population. They thought they were spiritually one with nature. In some ways that was right, but it was both a traditional lifestyle and the result of a twenty-year civil war, and deep poverty.
Whatever it was, Cosby and Mad Dog loved it. They were nerdy enough to bond with some of the archaeologist. Obscure concerns about preservation, climate, and culture made sense to Cosby and Mad Dog. They understood nondestructive investigation and excavation.
They lived in my "Command Module," as they called it. They had worked on the module's air handling system, so it was only fair that they got to live in it. They did not often work regular hours or eat on a schedule. We had food from the Widows' Kitchen. They were widows who had been left destitute by the war. We paid a good salary to them and they regarded us as their saviors. Cosby and Mad Dog were Coke and Mars Bars gourmets. The widows had clear opinions about that, and Cosby and Mad Dog were converted to eating actual food.
I had a feeling that sex was a synonym for masturbation for both men. I wasn't quite right about that. They gave blowjobs once and a while. We shared the showers, and they discovered a new sexual world. Both men had strange haircuts and wore ill fitting, odd looking clothes. They were much better looking naked under a spray of hot water. I wasn't sure they were gay, but five minutes in the shower provided an answer to that question.
Juan often stayed with us. Since he was unmarried, he got up early to get the site ready for the crew. He also checked for potential problems or sensitive areas. Juan seemed to have a sense where a major find was lurking.
When Mad Dog and Cosby ran into Juan in the shower, they thought he was the gay Holy Grail. I was not anywhere as attractive, but cock size plays a mystical role in arousing gay men. I walked into them trying to share Juan's cock. Mad dog switched to my cock and was pleasantly surprised. When he took a break, I dropped to my knees and sucked him. He shot off. To say he shot off was like saying Noah's Flood was a heavy rain. I took the entire, triple-swallow load.
Mad Dog and Cosby were buddies and not sexually involved. They were the sucker in a blow job. No one seemed to have reciprocated. Mad Dog discovered a new world, and he liked it. As I took Maddox's load, Cosby took Juan's seed. Cosby was a happy man too.
Over the next week or so, Mad Dog and Cosby became more daring and affable. They discovered new pleasures. Juan introduced Mad Dog to his prostate. Cosby discovered that Juan's sperm was a good lubricant and that sloppy seconds were exciting. A few days later I stretched Mad Dog's ass wider, and Juan opened Cosby's ass.
They were both in their late thirties. Oddly, sex was more comfortable for them when they were together. They liked sex with other men, but they felt safer with their buddy watching or at least nearby. They had several early encounters with sadists and wanted some protection. They discovered their inner exhibitionists in my shower. Curiously, another man found true love in my shower, Duncan.
The next day we were going to insert a probe into the chamber. There was a hiccup.
That morning there was a coup attempt in the capital. We were to be evacuated. At noon copters arrived and carried off the equipment and most of the foreign crew. I remained behind with the staff members who couldn't fit. The copters were to return the next morning. They did not return.