Expedition to Mesopotamia

Expedition to Mesopotamia, 1934

By Bald Hairy Man

Email, bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com. This is an adult story for adults. It is not intended for minors, nor for persons who are offended by alternate life styles. This is 100% fantasy, so no effort at safe sex is suggested.

In some ways, I was the perfect model for the most common comic figures in Britain. I was the third son of a not particularly wealthy nobleman. I am William Alexander MacDougal. My father is the Earl of Montvale and Laird of Loch Miller. My family has a distinguished ancestry, but sorely was lacking in wealth.

My grandfather was sensible and solved our financial difficulties by marrying my father to money. My father was not a catch other than his title, but Grandfather found a wealthy German nobleman who had a beloved, but sickly and unattractive daughter. After the exchange of considerable money, my father, Sir Philip Duncan MacDougal married Olga von Herrinburg. Mother was lame.

Fate can be strange, and it turned into loving and happy marriage. As a Scot, my father was reserved and cold; my mother was warm and affectionate. I don't think my father had any experience with affection, and he loved it. She loved him and her children.

As Lady Montvale the clan was suspicious of the German noblewoman, but her kindly nature soon made friends. She had her own private fortune and was generous to those in need. Her own serious medical problems gave her great sensitivity to the sick.

She never quite mastered English, so my brothers and I all became bi-lingual and spoke two mother tongues. While she loved her family, as a child she had been treated badly by the German aristocracy. They regarded her as flawed and unworthy. While her English was poor, she deeply loved Scotland, and had no sense of loyalty to Germany. She was of a liberal bent and had no sympathy with the Prussian imperial ambitions.

I was too young to fight in the Great War, but my brothers, Angus and Donald, fought with great distinction. They were handsome, strapping men, bold and self-assured. I am retiring by nature and shy. My interests were academic and antiquarian.

That was a suitable for the third son. A post at a University would be ideal for a minor and undistinguished man. My mother was quite pleased. She had the German respect for professors and academics. I just finished my schooling and went to Oxford in 1919.My primary interest was archaeology and my studies took me to German universities. While I was there unless they heard my name, all assumed I was German.

The 1920s were a difficult time for Germany, but I made many friends, most of whom were archaeologists or scholars. My strong suit was linguistics and decipherment of inscriptions, both cuneiform and Egyptian Hieroglyphics. By the age of 30, I was a recognized expert. I was working on expeditions sponsored by German, American and British Universities.

By 1933, the political situation in Germany had deteriorated badly, but this had little impact on my work or friends. I never spoke on the political situation, but I did arrange for a Jewish colleague to get a position at an English school and another got a professorship at the University of St. Andrews.

There was one great change. The new German government increased funding for expeditions. This was in marked contrast to the limited funding in Britain caused by the Great Depression. I was at Oxford when a close friend of my brother's asked me for tea.

Alistair Norwood was a bland, ineffectual looking dandy. I knew he was a decorated officer, and worked for the Foreign Office. He had always struck me as an unlikely friend for my brother, Angus. Angus associated with huntsmen and the more hearty types.

Alistair had a small but charming cottage on the river Isis. Alistair dressed informally. We talked about my family for a while and the conversation turned to German politics. "Herr Hitler seems to be stirring things up," he remarked.

"Quite remarkable," I said. "I was in Munich in 1923 when he attempted that failed coup. Most unimpressive I thought."

"He seems to have made good." Alistair said. "Perhaps he has some good points."

"I'm none too sure about that," I remarked. "He is pouring money into archaeology and my German colleagues like that. Some like his anti-Semitism. The German academic world is very competitive. Getting rid of the Jewish professors makes more room for advancement of lesser scholars. I had never heard anti-Semitic talk before. I assume self-interest plays a role."

"I believe you helped Professor Hertzberg and Cohen find posts here?" Alistair asked.

"How did you know that?" I asked. "I was most discrete."

"You might say my job is to know things," Alistair said. "Professor Cohen and his wife just had a baby boy named William Alexander Cohen. The name does not have that Old Testament ring." He smiled.

When Alistair said his job was to know things, I knew exactly what he meant and it explained his friendship with my brother. My brother Angus was seriously wounded at the Somme, and was in Military intelligence after he recovered.

"I greatly admire your discretion," he said. "Lady Olga shares your opinions of Herr Hitler. Were it not for Dr. Levi her life would have been little more than continuous pain. She is working to get him out of Germany."

"This has been a pleasant visit, but might I ask why I am here?"

"Let me get to the point," Alistair said. "We, by whom I mean His Majesty's Government, very much want to know the purpose of Herr Hitler's archeological interests. There is a chance it is an academic interest of his, but there is a far better chance there are other reasons. We want to know. We know Professor Siegfried Guttman is mounting an expedition to Mesopotamia, and you have been asked to be a part of that expedition. We want you to accept."

"I am not that familiar with Professor Guttman, but quite frankly, he isn't a first rate scholar," I said.

"That lack of distinction is part of our interest in him," Alistair said. "Let me be frank, and please do not take what I am about to say as a threat or an insult. Guttman has a well-known taste for men, and we think his interest in you is not purely academic. I know your sexual preferences."

I was dumbfounded. "Have you told my family about this?"

"Of course not, they know. You are a thirty-year-old man who has never associated with a woman socially. They aren't fools," he replied.

"Angus would be shocked!"

"Let me tell you something you must never repeat," Alistair continued. "Angus has spent many pleasurable hours shoving his Scottish Highlander man-cock deep into my effete back side. He is not concerned."

"He is homosexual?"

"Actually, I rather doubt that. Angus likes sex, plain and simple. He is driven, I am willing," Alistair said. "I admire men with large, impressive members, and Angus has that. I am reliably informed you share that characteristic. You combine Angus' endowment and my willingness. That is a good way to make friends, a most useful characteristic in my line of work."

"There is another aspect of Professor Guttman you need to know. As you are well aware, the King's health is failing. We have indications Guttman knows and may be on intimate terms with the Prince of Wales."

"My God! That can't be true!"

"The word comes by way of the Duke of Kent, who moves in unorthodox circles," Alistair said. "Actually it comes by way of the Duchess, who is much more reliable. I think you understand why it is important to know what is going on with Professor Guttman and his expedition."

I agreed to join the expedition. I didn't think of myself as a spy; I was more correctly an observer. There was no military aspect of my work; I was just to keep the Foreign Office informed. Alistair said they would contact me and gave me a code phrase to identify the contact, "I long for the chill rains of Midlothian." A few days later, I wired Guttman I would join the expedition. When I returned to Munich, I went to meet him.

I knew of Guttman, but had never met him. He was a tall, commanding figure, with short blond hair and a mustache. In a blue suit, he looked like a German officer. He was also out going and affable. He looked me over from head to toe, and his glances lingered at my crotch. My trousers weren't well fitted and when he saw the outline of my cock, he smiled. He seemed to approve. I had the feeling I was talking with a salesman, not a scholar. The thanked me for joining the expedition and then turned me over to his assistant, Herr Bergman.

Gunter Bergman was a political operative. He looked like a street thug and spoke uncultured German. Perhaps the Germans were the master race, but he looked like a Cro-Magnon, with a heavy brow and crude features. He wore a swastika armband and was interested in my political allegiance. I babbled in my most cultured German and quickly switched the conversation to the problems of deciphering Cuneiform writing. I did volunteer that I thought Herr Hitler was the chancellor now. I can play the fool if necessary and Bergman fell for it. I was the hopelessly politically naive dilettante. After ten minutes, Bergman lost interest in me and he sent me to see a man named Albert.

Albert was Berman's valet, and was in charge of supplies for the expedition. He was a slight, rather elegant man of the sort we would call a lounge lizard in Scotland. He was effeminate, but wanted to be helpful. He asked me what I needed.

"Well pencils and paper are my main requirements," I said.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, I translate cuneiform writing," I explained.

"Cuneiform?" he asked. He obviously had no idea what I was talking about. I was shocked. One doesn't expect all the staff of an expedition to be knowledgeable about the subject, but this was ridiculous. I explained cuneiform writing. He said it was remarkable paper survived so many centuries. I explained the Sumerians used clay tablets.

He leaned close to me. "You are a knight? A real knight?" Your Grand father was Freiherr von Herrinburg wasn't he? You're father is an uppity-up in Scotland?"

"I am the very bottom of the pile of knights," I said, "The third son of a minor nobleman."

"It is late, would you honor me by taking dinner with me?" he asked. It was late, so we went to diner. We went to a small restaurant on a back street in Munich. He dropped his elegant ways and told me about the expedition. Albert was a valet who was promoted to being the supply officer for the expedition. This was to save Bergman the expenses of needing to pay his valet. He had no idea what to do and no one would tell him.

I explained the basic items needed and gave him some helpful hints as to useful equipment and supplies. Albert was most grateful. He wasn't stupid, just uneducated. Like many servants, he was full of gossip about his master and his master's friends. He had been Guttman's valet. That might be useful to me. He drank a bit too much and I had to help him get home.

Berman had a large apartment in a fashionable district. "He is away, come in and we will have a night cap," Albert said.

"I think you are ready for bed," I said, "You could use a little sleep." He was very drunk. I got him to his room. I went to the toilet down the hall. I met Bergman in the hall. Hairy, stout and muscular, he was wearing only a towel and had come from a shower. After explain why I was there, Bergman laughed.

"That is Albert for you. He can't hold his beer!" he explained. He seemed quite jovial compared to our meeting earlier that day. Albert entered the hall, naked and wanting to play. Albert was not the shy type.

"Albert! We have a visitor!" Bergman exclaimed in mock shock.

"He can play too," Albert replied.

"Your servant is very friendly," I said laughing. Bergman looked at me and winked. Albert bent over and exposed his ass hole.

"Take a poke of you wish," Bergman said. "He loves it."

"Thanks for the offer, but it's late and I like long sessions," I said. Bergman looked at me, and then at my crotch.

"That can be arranged," he said. Bergman dropped his towel and Albert scurried to suck it. He deep throated it but then he slid to the floor, asleep. We both laughed.

"I need to get home for some sleep myself. Perhaps we can get together another time," I said. "Card games and reading are not the only things you can do in the long nights on the desert." He cupped my crotch. I stoked his semi erect cock. He was drooling precum and I collected some on my finger and tasted it.

He smiled at me. "I think we may very well enjoy ourselves on the expedition. I like to top by the way," he said.

"I like I it all," I replied. We said goodbye, and I went home.

Two months later, I was on a ship steaming toward Basra.

The expedition was oddly staffed. One portion consisted of archeologists and their assistants and the other part was of self styled explorers or adventurers. Siegfried Guttman was the sole link between the two groups.

Guttman had little if any field experience, so Professor Otto Hertz was to run the actual dig, he had two assistants, Hans and Rolf, Hans was a secretary, Rolf was the man who directed the diggers. A man named Wolfgang Schmidt was a pottery expert and conservator. I was the linguist. I also served another role. As Sir William MacDougal, I was to allay fears of German underhandedness. We were in Iraq, a British protectorate.

Hertz was a cheerful man who looked a bit like Father Christmas and had few of the overbearing characteristic one can find in distinguished academics in Germany. He was quite brilliant, but very much the absent-minded professor. Hans was small and timid. I am not a man's man like my brothers, but I was self-assured as self-confident compared to Hans.

Rolf was a bull of a man, tall, muscular, blond, bald and bearded. He was very experienced and gruff, but hearty. At first, I thought he was in his later forties. His weather beaten skin suggested an older man. He actually was just a few years older than I was. He was one of those blonds who tanned rather than burned. I burn, but he had a way to acclimate men to the sun. Every man in the expedition was to spend increasingly long periods in the sun each day of the voyage. He firmly believed in the health benefits of the sun. As luck would have it, Rolf and I shared a cabin. Hertz shared a cabin with Wolfgang and Hans was with Albert.

The most prominent of the explorers was Graf Frederick von Wittenburg. He was a well-known adventurer-explorer who wrote up his adventures in best-selling books. A man named Richard Dumond was an explorer and geologist. He was Alsatian, but he found Germany more attractive than France did and when the province returned to France in 1919, we moved to Berlin. I later found out he was looking for minerals and most importantly oil. Two men, Kurt Kruger and Johann Fischer, had no real role as far as I was able to discover. Kurt had been in the Army, but Johann seemed to have no background at all. I assumed they were Nazi agents. These men did not mix much with the archaeological portion of the team.

I had never been in close contact with a man of Rolf's class before and I was uneasy. To say that Rolf put on no airs understates the case. This I found disconcerting. It took me a week to find he wasn't rude, or impolite, just direct. His idea of dressing for dinner was to button his shirt. Once the ship reached the Mediterranean, it got very warm. Rolf wore as little as was decent and in the cabin, nothing at all. This was both disconcerting and sexually exciting for me.

He showered several times a day. I was use to Scottish cold and chill houses. We bathed once a week, but I admit I converted to his way of thought shortly. Uneducated in an academic sense, he was self educated and well informed. He was interested in cuneiform and hieroglyphs and we could carry on a good conversation on the subject. He had some thoughts on the cuneiform based on the physical appearance of the tablets. He saw a difference in the lettering between court records and more informal correspondence. I hadn't noticed that and would look into it.

I also thought my glances at his genitals were both discrete and unnoticed. I deceived myself in that regard. Frankly, I didn't think a man of his station would be interested. My sexual partners were other students, and a church musician. I had no connection with a working man. One evening I was sitting on my bed talking as he stood facing me. He was, of course, nude. I had no choice but to stare at his member. His cock was getting firm.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked. I nodded. "You can take it if you want it. I've got a few days' supply in my balls so it may be a big load."

I leaned forward and took his cock into my mouth. I was uneasy. I had sucked cocks before, but they tended to be a bit gamy and sometimes cheesy for my taste. I sucked his foreskin into my mouth then sent my tongue searching inside the flesh tube for his cock head. I tasted the sweet drool from his slit just before the tip of my tongue caressed the tip of his gland. Rolf had just showered and it was lovely.

I am always worried about my sexual skills, but Rolf's cock responded enthusiastically to my tongue's caresses. The faint taste of his cock juices soon became stronger. He was pumping the stuff out like a mountain stream. The taste of those juices is what drove to continue with oral sex. Rolf fed me his pure, clear and tasty juice. I was intoxicated.

"The cream is rising," Rolf said. "Do you want to take it? You don't have to. I can give you warning."

"Just let things flow," I said. "Don't hold back. You don't need to give me warning." A minute or two later Rolf filled my mouth with his man seed. I had tasted sperm before, but only in drips and dribbles. Rolf ejaculated over and over again. My tongue was awash in his steamy hot seed. I licked his still spewing cock head in a sea of sperm. I pulled away. I didn't want to swallow it. I wanted to savor it; it was that good. He pulled me close to him. He kissed me and he tasted his cream in my mouth.

We broke apart and he fell asleep. I was so excited I could hardly sleep. When I woke, he was gone. Rolf was an early riser. He appeared at breakfast in a most jovial mood. After breakfast, I went to the rear deck to take my daily allotment of sun. I had worked up to over a half hour by now. Several of the men sunbathed nude. Naturism was popular in Germany at the time. I was more reticent, but today I took off my shorts and wore a towel. I was the only one on the deck so I got on a recliner and stripped.

A few minutes later Professor Hertz sat next to me. Much to my surprise, he removed his shorts too and was nude as he talked with me. "Wilhelm, it is good to have you with our group. Hans, Wolfgang, Rolf and I make a good team. A man of your skills is a most welcome addition," he said. "We find tablets all the time, but we must wait months or indeed years to have then translated. I know a full translation is time consuming, but I would be good to have some idea what we have found."

"I am afraid my literary skills are limited, but I am good at quick, utilitarian translations," I said.

"That is what we need!" Hertz said. "I want a general idea what we have found." He leaned closer to me. "Siegfried thinks we are going to find the origins of the Aryan master race. That is silly, but the money is good! Mussolini is lout, but it has been a golden age for Italian Archaeology We will look at a site they have called Proto-Ur. The theory is Aryans migrated here and founded the Sumerian civilization. Do you remember hearing of Professor Derringer? He had a great mind at one time, but had a stroke and spouting babble now. He wrote an article claiming Sumerian was originally Sum-Aryan. Then site may well be early, but we don't even know its name yet. It's near Mosul."

As we talked he glanced at my genitals with considerable interest. "You seem to be well equipped enough to be a part of the master race yourself," he remarked.

I must have looked shocked. "Let me apologize," Otto said. "My team and I share some common sexual tastes. We were not sure if you were a member of fellowship. Rolf assured me this morning that you are a member in good standing."

"He is a friendly man," I remarked.

The professor laughed. "That is one way to describe him. We are all friendly here. I hope you will appreciate if I am direct. We are not a group of lovers; we are more like explorers or perhaps athletes. As we dig through the dusty sands of antiquity for artifacts, we explore the deep recesses of our bodies searching for pleasure."

"Have you found it?" I asked.

"Yes we have, with great regularity. After years of work we have found many ways to give pleasure," he said.

"You are still searching even though you have found what you were looking for?" I asked.

"In some ways sex is like money; there is no upper limit as to one's desires or hopes. If you think sex is evil and bad, you will not enjoy it here. We seem to be somewhat pagan in our approach to sex," Otto replied, "By the way, Herr Professor Guttman shares our interests, as do his men. For some of them, however, they like mix pleasure and pain."

"Most unattractive," I remarked. The Professor was getting hard. "You are beginning to look like a member of the master race yourself," I said.

He smiled. "Many men don't appreciate old meat."

"I like mature men, although I don't have much experience with them. Most of the men I have been with are younger," I said. "Your organ is much thicker than any I have experienced."

Graf Frederick von Wittenburg joined us. He saw us naked and stripped immediately. He was in his later 50s but was in fine shape. I did notice that rank tends to vanish with nudity. Frederick was also horse hung. He had no problem displaying his genitals. Unexpectedly I realized I had no problem either. To say my family was modest understated the situation, but I was enjoying the freedom of nudity. I felt like a boy being bad, but I liked the feeling. Otto and I were semi-erect and soon Frederick was in the same state.

Bergman joined us next. He sat next to Frederick and immediately began sucking the nobleman's cock. I later discovered Frederick had the ability to carry on a sensible conversation even while having an orgasm. Bergman could be depended on to be sucking the cocks of men of higher rank, or fucking the asses of men of lower rank. In both cased he was most enthusiastic.

Sea voyages are boring and uneventful of you are lucky. We were lucky. A sexual interlude was a good way to add spice to the day's activities, or more correctly to the day's lack of activity. Alistair had mentioned I was both well hung and willing. This shocked me when he told me, but on the voyage, I discovered he was right.

I am a timid man and when someone asks me to do something, I usually agree. I want to please. If someone asked me to suck his cock or fuck him, I invariably agree. That was a good way to make friends fast. I had one characteristic Alistair didn't know about. I have a remarkably short recharge time. I can shoot off a major load and be ready to go again ten of fifteen minutes later. I noticed other men had moods or sometimes weren't interested in sex. I have no moods at all and always was ready for sex. I never sought it out, or made the first move, but if sex was available, I was willing.

Otto's comment on his pagan approach to sex oddly applied to me. My father was Presbyterian and my mother was a strict Lutheran. Looking back, I know they must have enjoyed sex, I there certainly was no inkling of that in public or private. I had no thoughts on the subject at all. I was a tabula rasa in that respect.

My first sexual experience was at Oxford with a student a few years older than I was. He was quite effeminate and wanted to suck me. I loved that. Nigel was delicate but like my large cock. I fucked him and I liked that too. He thought I was a man's man compared to his usual playmates. Over the years, he introduced me to several of his friends. All were delicate and shy men, all wanted to try my large cock. Some had trouble talking it, and that was a problem for me. I can't find any pleasure in hurting my partner. It's hard to enjoy yourself if you are worried about hurting your partner. It seemed to me the men on this expedition weren't the delicate type and sexual connections could be quite a bit more freewheeling.

That night I was ready to take Rolf's load again, but he beat me to the punch and took mine. He seemed to enjoy it and had no problem taking my load. Inspired by him, I shot the best load of my life. I had tasted my own sperm once, but when I kissed Rolf. My seed filled his mouth. It was still warm. We rested. He said a friend of his was going to drop by a little later.

"A sex friend?" I asked. He smiled and said of course.

"I think you would like him, but you can just sleep if you aren't interested," he said. "We are quiet."

I heard a gentle knock at door. Rolf answered it. A huge man entered the small cabin. I had seen him on deck. He was the first mate. He didn't say a word; he just stripped naked. He fondled Rolf's cock. I slipped to the floor and took the giant's cock into my mouth. He must have been very excited since he ejaculated a single shot of semen. I just held his cock in my mouth and let him cool down. He was huge. On deck, I thought he was fat. He had a gut but was solid. His cock may well have been wider than it was long. His cock head was large and the slit wide. His organ was very sensitive and he twitched with every movement of my tongue. I was pleased I could excite this giant. He was sucking Rolf as I sucked him and the sex juices oozing from his cock intoxicated me. I was in heaven.

We broke apart for air. "He wants to fuck you," Rolf said. "Are you willing?" I nodded. I am always willing. The fist mate got on the floor. Rolf oiled his cock and I gingerly sat on it. It was very thick. Rolf straddled the mate's face so the giant could suck him. Rolf bent over and sucked my cock as I impaled myself. My ass opened wide as Rolf's warm mouth engulfed my organ.

I first thought I could do nothing with the thick cock in my ass, but soon I began to wiggle, I spread my legs wilder as I straddled the mate's body. His cock rubbed against my prostate and all was well. After five minutes of this, the mate began to shiver and buck. He twitched every time he ejaculated. He fell asleep. Rolf lifted me off the mate's cock. Put me on the bed and shoved his cock into my sperm-filled ass.

"Have you ever had a common man shoot his seed into your ass before?" he whispered.

"No, but I loved it," I replied.

"Get use to it; it's going to be happening a lot!"

Rolf soon added his cum to the sperm stew in my ass. I had a hands free orgasm as he climaxed, coating me chest and gut with my cream. We broke apart. The mate woke up and licked my well-used hole. Rolf licked up my sperm from my body.

"Relax your hole so he can get his tongue in there," Rolf whispered. I did and realized the mate was sucking up the man juices as it oozed from my ass. I had another hands free orgasm. I was embarrassed. I had made a mess and Rolf had cum in his beard. Rolf and the mate liked that a lot. My reputation as a sexual athlete was being made.

If Guttman connected the archaeological contingent to the political members of the expedition, Rolf connected the men men of the expedition with the sailors in the crew. Rolf and the first Mate had good taste in men. They brought me men they thought I would enjoy and would enjoy me. They were mutually satisfactory couplings. When we reached the site of the dig, Rolf established good and enjoyable relations with the Sheik who provided most of the labor and to his best men. I was excited by a sexual connection to workers. The Sheik was excited by plowing the ass of an English Nobleman and seeding it with the product of his balls. We became quite close.