Expedition to Mesopotamia 16 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
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The next morning I discovered that Walter was a quick learner. It is hard not to like sex. Rolf and Guido were experienced and skilled in every aspect of man-to-man sex. Walter was a natural and he had the advantage of being young with balls that must have refilled within minutes of his last orgasm. Walter could have fornicated eighteen hours a day and still wanted more. Guido and Rolf took turns training him. Apparently, Walter's ass was a fast learner too.
At Luxor, we experienced a delay partway to our destination. We were to wait for an additional member of the expedition. We had extra time to play. Luckily, if you have to be stuck somewhere in Egypt, Luxor is an ideal place for an Egyptologist. I decided to get a room in the Royal Luxor Hotel. I ended up with a small suite, with a sitting room, bedchamber and bath. An English Milord is good for business at a hotel.
I had not been to Luxor before and the Temples suitably impressed me. It was a very different world from the mud brick mounds of Mesopotamia. The temple inscriptions were different from the texts on the cuneiform tablets. They were formal and monumental, while many of the tablets were everyday lists and accounting.
Otto was well known and we met several distinguished scholars during our stay in the city. Guido had a problem since there was some anti-Italian feeling due to the invasion of Abyssinia and the Italian colonization of Libya. Guido was naturally dark skinned and had a heavy tan. He could pass as an Egyptian or an Arab easily. I could not, but the slightly eccentric English nobleman was a well-known type to most Hotel people. I could speak Arabic and that impressed the locals.
After a long day, I had dinner at the hotel with Rolf and Walter. Ernst Blacker joined us and was pleasant company. As is often the case, the men forgot I was not German. I speak as my mother does, with an upper class German accent. Rolf came from a working class background, but Ernst sometimes slipped and let his working class background peek out from behind his Academic German persona.
Ernst was a Nazi Party member, but I think that was just part of his effort to rise through the academic hierarchy. He did not want war at all. He had fought during the Great War and did not see war as a solution for any problem. He had advanced because of the anti-Jewish purges, but he was not anti-Jewish himself. He was ambitious and grasping, but not vicious.
After dinner, I asked Ernst back to my room for a nightcap. This pleased him greatly. I suspected that when he went home, he would tell his family that he had been hobnobbing with the aristocracy. I wanted him to accept me as a member of the expedition, not as a British agent. I also wanted to know if there was an ulterior reason for the Egyptian expedition.
As the only British member of an expedition that included German and Italian members, I was careful. As the Italians had colonies to the east and south of Egypt, they were a threat. Suez was the great prize. Without the canal, our connection to the Indian Empire was tenuous. Indeed Australia, Malaya and New Zeeland were at risk.
Ernst was much more open in the privacy of my room. He also drank much more and passed out. The next morning I heard him showering. I looked in the bath. There was no shower curtain and Ernst was naked and playing with himself.
"Come join me!" he said. "This is a real shower, not just water dribbling from the shower head. I took off my robe and joined him.
He immediately noticed my cock. "You have a beauty!" he said. "Mine is stubby."
"Does it work?" I asked. He laughed.
"It works well, but not as well as my balls. It is hard to keep them drained," he replied. I fondled his balls and then he dropped to his knees to suck my cock. It was not as much sucking, as it was worshiping my cock. It was the Holy Grail and Ernst had just discovered it. I soon realized he was exceedingly skilled orally, and shortly after that, I found out he possessed a prehensile ass. Ernst was a sexual amusement park.
I later found out that his academic success was based partially on his sexual skills. One highly placed Nazi academic enjoyed Ernst's ass. You had to be careful about your sexual tastes, and having Ernst in an important position provided and plausible excuse to meet. Ernst knew the Queen of Sheba and Nefertiti thing was a hoax. As long as a powerful official wanted it explored, Ernst was willing, especially if the money was good.
Ernst was the prefect lackey. He was flexible and adaptable to all situations. Those same characteristic applied to his sexual life. He said sex with me was like a vacation. It was purely for pleasure and was untainted by ambition. He was oddly old fashioned in some ways. He admired rank, but he preferred it to be inherited rank. He thought the Nazis were often little better than street thugs.
Rank and ancestry impressed Ernst. He had never sucked and aristocrat or tasted a nobleman's sperm before. I was everything he wanted. As an aristocrat, I was the lesser son of a minor Scottish noble and a lame daughter of a German aristocratic family. That was good enough for him. I made a point to be unpretentious and pleasant to all regardless rank. Ernst interpreted that as being both rare, exotic and admirable.
He also admired academic achievement, and intellectual attainment. This was a part of the 19th Century academic achievements of German scientist and philosophers. He was not capable of achieving that level of thought, but he admired it. that is why Otto was a member of the expedition.
I came to like Ernst in an odd way. He was a social climber and a stooge. He wanted prestige and respect and he didn't mind how he achieved that. He was an opportunist and took advantage of anything he could, but he was not evil or nasty. He had no role in purging Jews from the University, but he was willing to fill the vacancy. He was not a true believer.
The new member of the expedition arrived late that afternoon and we continued up the river. Hans Beckman was a photographer and a moviemaker. Someone in Berlin thought the expedition would be a great publicity triumph for the Third Reich and wanted each important discovery recorded.
Beckman was assigned to my cabin and Walter was sent to share a cabin with his Uncle. Walter thought he was being exiled to a sexual desert. I did not tell him of his Uncles sexual preferences. That was up to Otto.
Beckman was a slim, small and almost fragile looking man with a carefully groomed beard. We talked and discovered he specialized in archaeological photography. He carefully danced around the viability of the expedition's objective and he relaxed greatly when he realized we knew it was a fool's errand. He wanted to visit Egypt.
Hans had been selected for his ability, not for his party affiliation. He also knew Ernst. That night when he saw Rolf emerging naked from the showers, I realized he was a member of the club. He showered next. He had no problem with nudity. He was wiry rather than fragile, and his cock belonged on a stallion, not on a small German photographer.
Has polite, generous and not shy at all. "I have a four days' supply of Man seed in my balls," he said. "If any of you men are hungry. I would be glad to feed you."
"We are all hungry, but I want to be first in line," Rolf said. From that point onward, the night just got better. When I woke up the next morning, I realized that his a place on the expedition was not due only to Beckman's photographic skills. He was sexually skilled and almost insatiable. For a group of men in a remote desert area, that is a good skill.
At breakfast, Walter was cheerful and happy. The move to his Uncle's cabin was a success. Walter later told me that he had interrupted Otto and Arturo when they were intimately connected. Hans turned it into a threesome. Arturo was a bottom and both Otto and Walter were willing to fill his needs.
"I shot off in Arturo first and Uncle Otto really like using my sperm as lubricant," Walter explained, adding, "Arturo was a happy man too."
Walter had discovered the expedition had another secret objective. Ernst and Alberto had personally selected all of the men for the expedition. All the members had a taste for man sex including the two Nazi guards, Henrik and Wotan. Wotan, who looked like the missing link, was an old friend from Albert's youth. He was a street thug who had a needy ass. Henrik was his special friend.
Our expedition was the subject of considerable publicity, and I wondered if we were a decoy meant to distract British Intelligence from the main attraction. I sent a letter to my brother describing the trip with special emphasis on the bird life of the Nile. I mentioned that the Egyptians used nets and never used decoys and guns as we did in Scotland.
I assumed all mail might well be intercepted and read. I also kept Arturo under watch. The Italians were in Abyssinia and Libya. Egypt would be the crown jewel in Mussolini's new Roman Empire. The Italian dictator liked his conquests to be of primitive and weak nations. Albania and Abyssinia were hardly world powers. Control of the Suez Canal would give him a stranglehold on the British Empire.
Guido was well informed and educated on archaeology and the history of the area. Arturo seemed to be more of a clerical type. He was more of an executive than an archaeologist. He was a prim, proper and fastidious type. I could not see him digging in the sand.
The first site we were to explore was near a dismal town named Al-Nerkat. It was twenty miles inland from the Nile. We were well funded and we employed local Arab tribesmen as our bearers and guards. I was the only member of the expedition who could speak Arabic, after rough start due to Ernst efforts to impress the Arabs, I was able to settle things down. I observed the conventional pleasantries and was polite.
I also asked the Arabs for advice on the best path to the site. The headman made some suggestions. Ernst had drawn and straight line from Al-Nerkat to the site on a blank map. The headman thought that was amusing. I recognized that as a bad sign. I sat with him and other elders and we arrived at a more realistic route.
The headman was named Omar and his right hand man was a giant named Murad. They said the trip would take two days. This offended Ernst who took our truck into the desert to prove Omar wrong. Ernst returned four hours later. He had made it three miles when he encountered impassible cliffs.
In his defense, Ernst apologized to Omar. I translated his apology into suitably hyperbolic terms and Omar was satisfied. The next day we left heading due south to avoid the barriers Ernst had encountered the day before. There was no way to get petrol once we left Al-Nerkat, so we went by camels. The drivers, guards and bearers were all Omar's relatives. The price he had asked was high, by Egyptian standards, but a pittance when converted to pounds Sterling. I felt it was worth the good will.
On the first night, we camped next to the fortified compound of Omar's Uncle. Omar asked Ernst, Otto and me to meet the Uncle. The compound wrapped around a spring, and inside the mud brick walls, it was lushly planted. We went to the Hamam, or bath. It was luxurious and Ernst was impressed.
The uncle, Ali, was huge, muscular and powerful looking. Everything about him was huge. Ernst stared at the man's privates. While the two men did not speak the same language, they understood each other. Somehow, Ernst managed to let Ali see his ass and his anus. Ali stroked his cock so Ernst would see its full extent. Ernst sat on a marble bench and pulled up his legs exposing his hole again.
A few minutes later Ernst was squirming on Ali's cock. Ernst was not a big man and I was surprised that Ali's monster fit. It did not just fit; it slid in effortlessly. Ernst was demonstrably enthusiastic. Eventually most of the men in the Haman took a turn breeding and seeding him. Ernst loved them all. He had remarkable staying power. He never got tired and he never lost his enthusiasm.
When I stripped Murad and several of the older men gathered near me. They admired my cock, but we did not make sexual contact. Watching Ernst take so many cocks made my cock respond. I was semi-erect. That interested them, but they only looked. I talked with one of the older men, Abdul. He was one of Ali's many cousins and was a close friend of Murad. I asked them if all of the men liked sex with men.
"Sex is only with women," he said laughing. "With sex you make babies, with men it is just fun. Usually you have fun with old friends. It is rare to have it with a stranger. Your friend seems to like it. Everyone likes to shove it in, but few want it in their behind. This is a treat." A little later, I allowed Ali, Abdul, Omar and Murad to tickle my prostate to prove I was a good sport. I enjoyed it and they were pleased.
The next day we arrived at the supposed site of the Queen of Sheba-Nefertiti palace. It took five or ten minutes to realize it was a Ptolemaic site overlaid by Coptic churches and monasteries. The Coptic remains were fine. The early Christians often built at what they thought were ancient holy sites. The famous St. Catherine's monastery on Mount Sinai was at the legendary site of the burning bush.
The Ptolemaic sites were more problematic than the Coptic one. The dynasty was Greek. It had no interest in the Queen of Sheba and probably had little or no knowledge of Nefertiti. The ruins were interesting but not impressive by Egyptian standards. The small temple now served as the entrance to the Church. It seemed to me that this was a typical small, unimportant shrine.
The building sat next to a spring, and a pool of fresh water. Abdul told me it was the gift of Hapi, the Nile god, and it always flowed. During periods of drought, it always provided fresh and cool water. I recognized that this was a holdover from ancient religious beliefs. Abdul knew that a fresh water spring in the desert was more important than new religious doctrines such as Christianity and Islam.
As most of the crew set up camp, I explored the Coptic Church and the associated monastery. It was well preserved and the Christian images were unmutilated. Often orthodox Muslims rubbed out the faces. Since the spring was still flowing, I assumed the locals felt it was safer to protect the older building and not risk offending any of the spirits or deities in the area. In the back of the church, a small opening gave access to a cave room. I had a lantern with me. It was the library.
It was not just a library; it was a fully stocked library with both scrolls and codices. All were ancient. It was a treasure trove. I went to a large codex and gently opened it. It was a collection of sermons and commentaries on the sayings of Jesus. It was dated in the Roman way, from the founding of the city of Rome. After some quick calculating I realized it was 410 A.D., a stunningly early date. I went to tell Otto about the discovery.
His specialty was Mesopotamian cultures, but he immediately recognized this was potentially the find of the century in New Testament studies. We went to tell Ernst and Arturo about the library. Arturo was a good Catholic and Ernst always covered his bets. He was a Nazi now, but he could turn into a good Lutheran if necessary.
Ernst suspected that a discovery of early Christian writings was not what the leadership in Berlin was looking for. Arturo was more comfortable with the find. Mussolini was always trying to curry favor with the Pope. Neither man trusted the other. A thousand years of calculation and treachery marked the relationships between the Popes and the temporal leaders of Italy. Arturo was a historian; he figured he would place his bets on the Popes. They had more experience.
I asked if Henrik and Wotan would be a problem with the Christian discoveries. Ernst laughed. "I will tell them it is the Queen of Sheba's handwritten autobiography. Quite frankly, they have trouble reading the exit and entrance signs at a train station!"
Later it told Omar about the library. He knew of its existence but couldn't read Greek or any ancient Egyptian writings. "It is a Holy Place," he said. "The ancient ones created it." Omar's tribe was isolated. The now spoke Arabic and were technically Muslim, but respected the memories of Christian and pre Christian religions.
Omar knew I was a Scottish Milord. He knew that Scottish troops had helped defeat the Mahdi in the Sudan and were brave and made a terrific noise that terrified all evil doers. I assumed that was a reference to bagpipes. He despised the Mahdi and the associated dervishes because they were possessed by the devil. "No one can defile the holy places," he said. "The Mahdi tried and his followers were slaughtered."
As far as Omar was concerned this was a holy place. That it was an ancient Egyptian and Coptic holy was incidental to the holiness of the site. I explained this to Ernst and Otto. Of course, Otto understood. It took Ernst a while to understand the concept. I finally told him that if the tribesmen thought we were defiling the sacred place we might well be slaughtered. That made sense to him.
The next day I returned to the library with Rolf and Walter. I said a prayer at the door and bowed to the images that flanked the entrance. I think they were St. John the Baptist and Jesus, but it was an early, pre-bearded image of Jesus. The prayers were from the Book of Common Prayer, but that seemed to satisfy Omar that we were doing things in a suitably reverent way.
We had been there an hour when Rolf found a second library room. This contained Egyptian documents that had been transcribed into Greek. One document related to Hapi, the Egyptian god of floods. In a desert nation like Egypt, flowing water was venerated. It seemed that at some point the locals had conflated the flooding of the Nile, with the flow of the spring.
The spring dribbled water for most of the day, but gushed large amounts of water at dawn and at dusk. The Egyptians had made an impressive conceptual leap. They assumed the gushes were the orgasms of the god Hapi. Hapi was androgynous or perhaps bi-sexual. The spring was the expression of the god's male characteristics.
It also explained the casual sexual encounters in the bath. The Egyptians, like the Sumerians understood that the cock was the basic tool of fertility. I wondered if orgasms played a role in Egyptian rituals. In Mesopotamia, the exchange of sperm was a necessary part religious ritual insuring fertility of both the land and humans. There, once the religious functions were completed, the exchange continued as a recreational activity until the men depleted the semen supply.
I was with Walter and Murad when we found the small library. I read several passages from the book. Murad was in awe of my skills. No one in the tribe could read the ancient texts. He saw me as a seer and a guide into the ancient traditions.
I was not the only one to make a discovery that day. Arturo had struck me as a bureaucrat. However, his area of expertise was Roman aqueducts and waterworks. He believed that since we were at a sacred spring, there must have been a pool for ablutions. The Egyptians used canals, ditches and dams to manage water, but Egypt had been Roman for centuries. He went looking for the missing water.
Arturo and Guido went searching for the feature. The buildings and spring sat at the foot of a forty or fifty foot high escarpment. Winds from the Sahara blew over the cliff and the sand landed two or three hundred yards away, thus the site was still above the sand.
Arturo impressed me with his understanding of water works. He judged that the water from the spring should have created a much larger pool. Since there was bedrock just under the surface, Arturo assumed there was an underground drain carrying the water away. 100 yards from the pool was a large, single sand dune.
The wind forms Sand dunes in linear waves. They are not isolated humps. It took little more than an hour of digging to discover that the hump was indeed a bath building. Arturo assumed the bath had a ritual function associated with the life giving nature of water and that the entrance would be from the east, facing the rising sun. He was right about that too.
The bath was small by Roman standards, but elaborate. It had windows of thin sheets of alabaster. This had survived for centuries and the interior was comparatively sand free. I went in the bathing chamber and saw a broad, placid pool. The walls were carved in what looked like palm trees. When I eyes adjusted to the light I realize they were not palms, they were ejaculating penises. I recalled the images of an erupting volcano from my Mesopotamian adventure. They too were ejaculating penises.
I wondered if the association of a spurting spring and an ejaculating cock was an accidental association, or if there was a connection between the two cultures. Murad and Omar were with us and knew exactly what the carving depicted. Arturo left to write a report, leaving me with the two Arabs.
We all stripped and bathed in the water. I bent over and presented my ass to Omar. He knew what was required. He coated his cock with spit and eased it into my ass. He did not exactly fuck me; he carefully planted his seed in my ass.
When he pulled out, Murad was watching. He was hard, but held back. I motioned for him to come over. He broke out in a wide smile. If it had not been for Omar's load in my ass, it might have hurt. He too planted his seed after a leisurely, but intense session.
From my earlier experiences, I knew they were making me stronger by injecting me with the man seed. They saw me as the leader, and they were enhancing my power with their sperm.