Expedition to Mesopotamia 11
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
I returned my attention to the wall of inscriptions. With the aid of my trench digging British Tommies, I found the wall was four feet taller than we assumed. I did some preliminary deciphering of each of the major sections of the wall. This was to get a feel for the general layout of the monument. The south facing side was almost entirely related to history and genealogy. At first, I thought the town was called Huran.
That would have been a wonderful discovery since it would have been the town Abraham came from in the Bible. It was more correctly New Huran and it claimed to be a colony of Ur. This was all fantasy. Ur's glory days were a millennium earlier. Like the genealogical family trees, they selected the name to impress. The king claimed to be the descendent of Gilgamesh's beloved friend Enkidu, the hairy wild man.
The residents of the area seemed to have been comparatively outsiders in the area, having migrated from the north. They seemed to have come from an area north of the Black Sea, the approximate area occupied by Armenia. The Armenians are noted for their tendency for body hair. I wondered of the mythical ancestry from Enkidu provided an explanation for the tribe's appearance.
Curiously, the genealogies listed the queens, and there was only a single queen for each king. Normally Mesopotamian kings list scores if not hundreds of wives and concubines. Here, the stock formula was Queen X, beloved daughter of King XY married our great king and had five children. Apparently, the kings had only a single wife. Since the queens came from noble families, it struck me the queens were perhaps the favorite daughters of their fathers. It would have been far better to be a queen of a monogamous king, than wife 22 in a vast harem. That may have our kingdom's secret of success, since the kingdom seemed to be small.
The north facing side of the wall was covered in all religious writings, mythology and rituals. There was one major variation in the creation stories. The creator god endowed every animal, plant and insect with a portion of his creative being so each could procreate. In plants, these were seeds. The seeds both created more plants, but when eaten increased the creative urges in animals.
The creator god was an amorphous and formless creature, more of a cloud than an anthropomorphic god in the usual Mesopotamian mode. When he created man, he gave men a specific part of his being, the cock. Apparently, in the god like fog the creator had a physical cock that did the actual creating. This was referred to as the God Pillar. Sometimes the god had two, one to create men and one to create women. In other places, it was called the God Tree or the tree of life.
I recalled Solomon's Temple in Jerusalem was flanked by two pillars. Pillar or column worship is mentioned in the bible and there were strong objections to sacred columns and groves.
The phallic symbolism of the columns could hardly be clearer. There was a relief of a king having an orgasm, spreading his seed. I had a photograph of the scene and when I saw it rotated to the side, I understood the tree symbolism. The cock was erect as sperm exploded. I had seen it as fireworks, with bursts at the end of trails. This symbolism was impossible for anyone in the Middle East at the time of the inscription. The Chinese invented Gunpowder more than a thousand years later.
Seen sideways, the artist showed the orgasm as a tree spurting branches and leaves. The Sumerians all but invented agriculture and knew a small seed could become a great tree. They also knew man seed created a diminutive baby that could grow into a strapping man.
The penis was a divine gift. It was a part of the great creator god. If the seeds of plants fed men, man seed, sperm, was vastly more nourishing. Certainly the view man was made in god's image is typical of many religions, but I wasn't aware that many regarded the cock as the particular organ of creation. The orgasm linked man with god, and man shared the orgiastic ecstasy with the creator god.
Early man barely survived continuous attacks by animals and the elements. Life was a constant struggle for survival. He must have thought the orgasm was an otherworldly experience. God gave man the cock and the orgasm to continue the god's creative duties. It was a true gift of the gods. The concepts were logical in their own way. I had noted the modern tribe thought taking sperm made you stronger and that some persons, namely me, were able to transmit this sperm to replenish the god himself.
I explained this to Billy, Tommy and Reggie, my ditch diggers during the mid day break in work. We didn't work between 11:00 and 4:00 in the afternoon. When I met them they seemed like dullards, but I had grown to like them. Being known as a dullard was a good way to avoid work and avoid being selected for demanding tasks. Tommy and Reggie had won decorations in the Great War, so this was a front.
They got use to digging trenches in the Great War, and liked sand compared to mud. They were uneducated but were interested in the work. I gave them rough accounts of what I was deciphering. This they enjoyed.
"If I had a chance to pick a god, I go with the one with the biggest cock," Billy said. "He'd be a happy god, not too prone to thunderbolts and the like."
"I think the god they talk about on the wall may be Monty's god!" Tommy said. "He certainly enjoys his fun." The other men looked at him with concern. They had also discovered Monty's weakness and used him as a recreational out let. Later, Monty told me that they were polite fuckers. Some enlisted men try to take advantage of an officer they have relations with. These men just enjoyed the moment and then let it go. "They are inventive too," Monty said. "They took me to a place I had never been before. That takes some doing!"
I smiled. "Monty is certainly an open minded man," I said. "I had a somewhat sheltered life. I discovered the orgasm later than he." They laughed.
"You are a sportsman?" Reggie asked.
"I'm not as sportsman in that I rarely go looking for sex, but I don't run away when I find it," I said.
"That is a good policy," Billy said. "It's tricky when you do it with officers. The word is out that I have a big one. Sometimes they take it badly when it don't fit."
"It certainly fit Monty, I hope!" I exclaimed.
"No problem there at all!" Billy replied. "Slipped in like a hot knife through butter. He can tighten up once you're in too. That's nice. I've got a long fuse, he liked that."
"Do you all have long fuses?" I asked.
"Not me!" Reggie exclaimed. "Quick and easy is my motto. I'm afraid I'm the side show, not the main attraction."
"You lubricate the hole for Billy?" I asked.
"I was thinking you were a virgin," Billy said. "You're young, but you must have some mileage on you. You are talking like a master sportsman."
"That's a nice way to put it," I said. "I hope you aren't offended."
"You could say we're open minded too," Billy replied. "When you are soldiers it's good to be able to entertain yourselves on long deployments. You can pack a lot of relaxation into a short period of time if you like sport. Officers can smell booze. Women are hard to find, and are either too willing or not willing enough. A little man play is undetectable. If you do it right you buddies either swallow the evidence, or you deposit it where the sun doesn't shine."
A large truck drove up and honked. I went over to it. The truck was labeled the Mesopotamian Oil Company. As far as I knew, no such company existed. Three men got out of the truck. "Is this the road to Basra?" a man asked. Basra was at the other end of Iraq. We weren't even close. He spoke English, but not as a first language. With black hair, a dark complexion and heavy beard, I guessed he was a Turk.
"I guess if you keep on driving south, you will eventually find Basra," I said.
"Are you the German archaeological expedition I have heard about?" he asked.
"We are a part of it," I said. "The main portion is three hours to the south. We discovered a major find here and I am doing the preliminary survey of the site." Monty came out of his tent in full uniform. The man seemed shocked.
"Anglo-German relations must be much better than I thought," the man observed.
Monty came over and introduced himself as a Major and then asked to whom he was speaking. "I am Suleiman Oman, an engineer for the company," he replied. "We are doing some surveys for the company. Is everyone here English?"
"The German part of the expedition has run into a spot of bother," Monte replied. "They had a problem with bandits, and seem to have attracted some ruffians who had caused problems. Even our own Sir William was attacked."
"There have been some rumblings about that," Suleiman said. "Some bad eggs seem to be heading to the north. One of our teams had a problem." I had a strong sense these men were Turkish intelligence agents trying to find out what the Germans were doing. The Nazi's wanted Turkey to side with them, especially since it could provide access to the Middle Eastern oil.
There is no particular love lost between Britain and Turkey, but that didn't mean Turkey would side with the Nazis. It seemed to me the racial obsessions of the Nazi's would necessarily be a problem for the Turks.
I was getting late so I asked them to stay the night and have dinner with us. They accepted the invitation. Suleiman was a well educated man, his associates were probably body guards. I showed them the wall, and then showed them some preliminary translations. Suleiman soon understood ours was a genuine archaeological expedition. He relaxed.
When he asked about the remainder of the expedition, I was careful. I made it clear Otto was an important scholar. I indicated there were some men I didn't know well. I said they were engaged is some scientific studies, but I wasn't sure what they were doing. I acted the part of the distracted academic, but I don't think he believed it. I made the mistake of being too proficient in my translating of cuneiform script.
That night we had a good and quite festive diner and Suleiman confessed he was a policeman. I gave him a full account of the bandit attack and of our counter attack. This district had been a safe area for ruffians and thugs for years. These men now were fleeing the area and some were moving into Turkish border areas. Alarmed at the outbreak of crime, the Turks had contacted the British Government which had little idea what was going on in the area.
I explained the Sheik's policy of punishing thugs with dismemberment and beheadings seem to have had a beneficial impact on the crime rate. Suleiman seemed to think that was a sensible policy. Turks tend to be action oriented and were not too worried about technicalities.
They were looking for something more than they were telling me, but we seem to get along well. The Ottoman Empire had ruled this area for centuries and I wondered if they had hopes for getting it back. The crew from the Mesopotamian Oil Company decided to stay for several days and do some exploring on their own.
Of course, there were numerous Turks in the area who had lived there for years under Ottoman rule. Suleiman's crew talked to the locals and got much more detailed information on the expedition in general and me in particular. Suleiman did not like the Nazi's efforts to recruit a brigand band to destabilize the area. He felt having Arabs, Turks and the British in the area was more than enough players. A fourth power was undesirable. He was also uneasy about destabilization in general.
"Many nations play that game, expecting to pick up the pieces eventually. You British did it in the Great War, and I'm not sure we will ever get things stable again," he said. I agreed with him. Our empire was over extended before the war. It seemed to me it was teetering now. I did not tell him that.
"They also say you have become most popular with the locals. They seem to regard you as reincarnation of an ancient hero?"
"That is not of my doing at all," I said. "They have been most kind to me."
Suleiman winked at me. "I hear you have been most generous and accommodating to them."
I must have looked uneasy. "Do not be uneasy, Sir William. I tend to be generous too. We may share common tastes. My business means I am in all male company most of the time. Omar and Emre are friendly men. Sometimes it is good to take a break from work and relax. Perhaps we might visit the Haman tonight," Suleiman said. He leaned close to me. "We have been in the desert for more than a month without any entertainment. We are big men. I was told you enjoy that, and that we might well enjoy you too."
As I had told my British diggers, I didn't seek out sex, but I took no steps to avoid it. I went with the three Turks to the baths. They took me to a small, Turkish bath on a side street. This was more like a social club than the other, larger Arab bath. While I don't speak Turkish, I tend to pick up languages easily so I could understand some of what was being said. I expected a quick and pleasant romp.
Suleiman, Omar and Emre wore ill-fitting clothes of poor quality. I hadn't realized how ill fitting until they stripped. They were magnificent specimens; the men were body builders. Their clothes had been a disguise. The main room of the bath was a smaller version of the Arab baths. You wore a towel in this room. There were a few men there who greeted us politely, but without much interest. It was a sleepy place.
Emre knocked on a locked door to the side and we entered another room. This inner room was richly appointed in marble and tile. It had a small pool and marble benches on the edges of the room. Six nude and aroused men sat in the room. A young man looked as if he were doing a belly dance on an older man's cock. No one was at all shy or uneasy. The inner room was clearly for sexual release. Four of the men were older; two were quite young and may have been attendants. My Turks were attractive when wearing a towel, but fully naked they were wonderful.
They were hairy, muscular and rather fierce looking men, but once they were erect, they mellowed. They were intimidating men in many ways, but wildly enthusiastic about sex in general and fucking me in particular. I didn't get to see them soft; they were ready to go. A young man carried a vial of oil. He oiled the Turk's cocks and my hole.
Unexpectedly, Suleiman and his men took their time. We had the whole evening and there was no rush. While they were in no rush to climax, they all wanted to spend as much time in my ass as possible. They rotated with Suleiman first. He toyed with my sphincter until I opened up for him. He possessed an impressive mushroom and slowly stretched my hole until it popped in effortlessly. He eased his organ in until he made contact with my prostate, and they toyed with that gland.
Omar and Emre watched and chatted. It was almost as if they were watching a great chef preparing a gourmet dinner. They fed me their cock as further entertainment. Omar was not particularly responsive, but Emre leaked like a faucet. When Suleiman reached the edge of an orgasm, he pulled out and Omar entered. Omar wasn't delicate at all, but it was good to have a vigorous workout. When Omar teetered on the edge of a climax, he withdrew and Emre took his place.
Emre was the most energetic of the trio. He was the first to climax, filling my ass with his Turkish Cream. Suleiman started a second round of fucking. Using his bodyguard's man seed as a lubricant seemed to excite him. He was both more vigorous and tender this time. He shot off and turned me over to Omar.
With two loads of man seed in my ass, I was enjoying it more too. It seemed the man made lubricant made for a closer bond between my rectum and Omar's cock. The entire chute tingled and my sphincter caressed the invading organ. "Is beautiful!" Omar exclaimed. I had been told by the sheik that my sphincter transformed into ass lips, welcoming and caressing each man part that entered me.
I assumed the three men would shoot of once or twice and then be spent. It was a long session of continuous fucking. Omar and Emre had four orgasms each; Suleiman climaxed five times. I'm not sure how many times I released my own seed.
While they always kept my ass filled with a throbbing cock, they did not neglect my organ. They enjoyed sucking it and lapping up my seed with obvious enthusiasm. Our organs became very sensitive and eventually even the smallest movement was pleasurable. I wouldn't say my Turkish friends were shy or inhibited, but as the night progressed, they became more affectionate, especially Emre. He was the most brutish looking of the trio and had no grasp of English at all.
He liked to kiss and caress me and greatly enjoyed my cock and ass. He fed me his cock as he sucked mine while the other men fucked me. I thought this was so he could watch the other men's organs penetrate me, but eventually realized it was to get my sperm. I tend to enjoy sex as a recreational outlet, but Emre had a way about him. Since we couldn't communicate verbally, all communications were genital and physical. I imagine sex with a Gorilla might be like this. Suleiman later told me he was normally standoffish and this was new to him.
They left the next morning, and I returned to the wall of inscriptions. I found it relaxing. While I was doing nothing for King and County, it was good to immerse myself in the arcane aspects of Sumerian Grammar. This ended when Guttman made an unexpected visit with several new Nazi staff members as well as Frederick von Wittenburg.
They set up tents apart from our encampment and just sat there. Fortunately, they paid only cursory attention to my work. Guttman was closed mouthed as to the reason for the visit. It obviously had nothing to do with me, or the excavation.
The day after Guttman arrived, Monte and his men received orders to leave and join the rest of the men at the Syrian border. I now had no men to dig. The village headman gave me men to help. I paid well, so they were most willing. My diggers were unusually big, muscular men and I discovered they were also armed. I saw the Sheik's hand in this. He distrusted the Nazi's and the diggers were there to protect me. The spring equinox was three weeks away and I was needed for the rituals.
Guttman reverted to his old behavior and avoided contact with the local Arab leadership. After three days of doing nothing but erect more tents, several cars drove up with what was obviously an important delegation. These were all Germans, some of whom were obviously military men. Two hours later a second delegation arrived.
This group came with several cars and two trucks. The men in the truck were soldiers who weren't in uniform. If they thought no one would know they were soldiers, they were sadly mistaken. Form their deportment I knew they were military.
I was at the wall working with the Arab's when several men from the Nazi camp visited the excavation. Unexpectedly this was a mixed group of Englishmen and Germans. They spoke in German and assumed I was German too. Guttman led the group and he did not make introductions. He was playing the big man and didn't want to muddy the waters with underlings.
One of the Englishmen was familiar to me. I was quite sure I had never met the man, but I knew the face. After they left I realized it was the Prince of Wales. Of course, I had seen hundreds of photographs of the man through the years, but you didn't expect to see him in the middle of the desert in a German camp. I vaguely recalled he was on a state visit to India. He must have been on the return trip now. Earlier, Guttman had indicated he knew the Prince intimately.
It was deeply disturbing that the Prince was here at all, but it was even more disturbing that the Prince was so comfortable with the Nazis. He seemed at home. Guttman was by no stretch of the imagination a first rate man. He was a minor party official with more aspirations than ability. Why would the Prince find him attractive? It seemed to me the Prince could do much well. I was not much of a royal follower, but it seemed to recall the papers criticized the Prince's taste for the fast crowd. He liked the bright young things that ornamented the pages of the popular press.
The Prince stayed in the German encampment, but some of the men from the camp came to visit the excavation to get away and talk privately. I was very dusty and dirty and they didn't seem to notice I was there.
An English courtier said the Prince needed to let his hair down once and a while, but this seemed like an unwise adventure. "This is dangerous business. If the King finds out there will be hell to pay," the man said.
"I assume he is to sick too care," another man said.
"That is a bad assumption. He may be declining, but he is every inch the King," the first man said, "and every inch an Englishman, as his German relatives found during the war. George's father Edward VII hated the Prussians for the way they treated his sister. His mother, Queen Alexandra, hated them for mistreating Denmark. The Germans assumed George inherited none of their aversions and was more German than English. The King would be most displeased."
"The Duke of York is ineffectual," the second man said. "I can't see him as king."
"The Duke of York has beautiful daughters and he always does his bit with no fuss and bother. The King is an old man. Pretty little granddaughters of a dutiful second son, might well be attractive to him. Wales is not the son I would want, and there is no sign of an heir or of any woman who could possibly be a Queen," the first man said.
"I would bet Herr Guttman would be more than willing to be the queen."
"I rather think Wales would play the queen to Guttman's king," the second man said. At this point, another man joined the group and the conversation turned to the weather.
I was very unhappy.