Library of Alexandria
Chapter 4
John and Michael looked at each other after the bombshell that Andrew had laid at their feet. They couldn't hide the smiles that crossed their faces. When they'd had their televised interview with him, they easily decided that Andrew Milbank was definitely bedroom material. He was tall, handsome, dashing, urbane, and sexually very hot. He wasn't as tall as John or Michael, but he was well above average height. He obviously worked out enough to keep his body in good shape. Andrew was in his 30s they concluded, but the years didn't show. His eyes smoldered when he looked at you in a special way that drew you in and convinced you that you were the only person of interest to him. Michael and John got the additional vibes that he was also gay and hungry for some discrete man sex.
However, they never thought that anything more would come of their time spent with him for the interview, until now. Andrew glanced at both of them and then a smile spread across his face. "You're interested, aren't you?" he grinned broadly. He nibbled on a small wedge of cheese, chased it with an olive and a swallow of the champagne. His guests smiled back, but let Andrew lead the discussion. "Just so you know," Andrew continued, "I have much more to lose with this encounter than you do. Gay marriage may be sweeping the country, but people still aren't ready to invite one into their living rooms every week." They nodded at his observation. "And let me be clear on this. The two of you intrigue me. I seldom have had the pleasure of enjoying the company of two men at the same time. I'm not sure what the points of etiquette are. However, I think it reasonable that I tell you right up front that I want both of you to fuck the hell out of me all night long!"
Once more, John and Michael choked on their drinks. "Uh, that works for us, too," John finally said. "We are pretty versatile and adventurous in bed, in case you wondered." Michael nodded his agreement and smiled knowingly.
"As I'm the one who suggested our little tryst, it is only appropriate that I tell you that my status is negative and I love to bareback with other negative men. I'm prepared to prove that status, if you are," he suggested.
"Yeah, we're both neg," Michael revealed. "And we bareback each other all the time."
"Somehow I knew you were sexually active with each other in the most intimate ways. I'm hoping that includes some delicious ass eating," Andrew wondered.
"Always a fun time when you can pleasure your partner in more than one way," John smiled. "We are proficient at ass eating as well as fucking and breeding."
At that point, their dinners arrived. They dropped the topic until they were ready to leave. "Would you like to come to our place or go to yours?" Michael asked.
"If your bed is a big one, I'd prefer your place," Andrew said. "Mine is only a queen bed. It is good for sex, but not good for sleeping if there are three of us."
"A California king is big enough for three of us," John allowed. "However, I'm thinking there won't be much sleeping going on," he leered.
Because Andrew had taken a taxi to the dinner engagement, he rode with the boys in their car. Inside the condo, they exchanged recent test results. Quickly afterwards, they shed their clothes and headed for the large bedroom. "Now that I know that both of you are very well hung," Andrew observed, "I think Michael should fuck me first while John sits on my face. I think John's dick is so fuckin' big that he'll stretch me out so much that Michael can't feel my ass walls."
John laughed at the suggestion, but agreed to Andrew's directions. On the other hand, Michael wasn't about to get this three-way too far down the road without some quality time eating out Andrew's ass before he fucked and bred the newscaster's hole. With Andrew's legs pushed back into his chest, Michael burrowed his face between Andrew's muscular ass cheeks. He stuck his tongue out and sampled Andrew's sweet, musky hole. It was clean, but it was also delicious. He moaned with pleasure as he pushed deeper. Andrew moaned with as much pleasure and worked his tongue more deeply into John's butt.
"You fucked him before you went to the restaurant, didn't you Michael?" Andrew asked when he came up for a deep breath. "I've always wanted to eat out an ass that's been bred bareback!"
"Then, you'll love Michael's ass, too," John laughed. "I loaded him up, too."
"You guys must have the hottest sex life in town with both of you being so versatile. How did you negotiate that?" Andrew asked.
Michael finally answered, "It just seemed to be the right thing for us from the very beginning. We love to fuck and get fucked. But, I was sure that because Jay has such a monster dick that I'd be bottoming most of the time. It turns out that he had the same opinion of me. However, we quickly settled into our current regimen of both getting pounded and bred on a regular basis."
"And when you hook up with other men?" Andrew pressed.
"Uh, nearly all the time, the third guy wants to get fucked. I guess all we've taken to bed with us is size queens," Michael added dryly.
Andrew nearly lost it laughing so hard. "Yeah, I guess I'm part of that same profile. I've always liked getting fucked, but I really love it when a big dick pounds my ass. And tonight, I have the double pleasure of two monster dicks pumping me deep and loading my ass up." With that summation, Andrew returned to eating out John's ass and Michael continued to lube up Andrew's sweet hole with his wet tongue.
Michael's hard dick was starting to throb menacingly and had been dripping precum for several minutes. The erection had been so hard for so long that it was beginning to hurt. He stood up and pushed Andrew's legs into his chest again, but let the leg's rest on Michael's shoulders this time. His aim was as perfect as it always was. He slid easily between Andrew's ass lips, but met resistance as he tried to push deeper. "Relax and let it happen," he whispered. Michael felt Andrew's hole relax and allowed him to go deeper.
"Oh, fuck yeah," Andrew moaned into John's ass. "I love a big dick in my hole. Go deeper. I want to feel all of you inside me."
Michael pushed again and was rewarded with the feel of Andrew's ass cheeks caressing his pubes. He pushed harder as his hands spread Andrew's butt a little more. The last thick inch of his long dick disappeared. He made his dick jerk several times inside Andrew, so Andrew's butt knew just how deep Michael was. "This is one sweet ass," Michael exclaimed. "You'll love getting in here, too, John."
"And I'll be even better when it's all lubed up with your creamy load," John replied as he wiggled his ass again on Andrew's face.
Michael began a slow withdrawal and an equally slow insertion, making sure that he used as much of his dick as he could to impale Andrew without withdrawing completely. With the amount of moaning that Andrew was doing, Michael knew he was working at the proper pace. However, an ass this hungry and experienced wasn't going to give Michael the chance to dictate speed or depth.
"If you keep that up, Andrew, I'll nutt too soon," Michael warned.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Andrew laughed between slurps on John's asshole. "Besides, I'm sure you have a lot more loads in those oversized balls of yours that will be added to my ass later."
Succumbing to the inevitable, Michael fucked and pumped Andrew's hole. At this point, it was only a question of a few seconds or a few more seconds before Andrew's ass would be drinking Michael's first load. Almost before he knew he'd reached that point where he couldn't stop his climax, his big dick started to jerk hard. His hips thrust deep and quickly, eager to hit the biggest climax he could. Andrew's ass met each thrust with an equally hungry push back into Michael. "Give it to me!" Andrew begged.
With a final strangled cry, Michael's climax roared over him and delivered a voluminous series of sperm jets into Andrew's deep ass. Michael pounded and pumped. He couldn't fuck this man deep enough or fast enough to satisfy the climax that was rolling over him. But, even his big dick had its limits. His hips continued to fuck Andrew, although his long dick had stopped firing and was only dribbling out the last drops of cum. Reluctantly, he pulled out and smiled over at John. "Your turn," he sighed. "And you're going to love Andrew's sweet hole. He's a sensational bottom, John." Michael switched places with his husband and sat on Andrew's face. "I hope you enjoy the taste of John's nutt," he smiled as he spread his ass cheeks and sat directly on Andrew's mouth.
Meanwhile, John had squatted at the end of the bed and had his face buried in Andrew's ass. He could taste his husband's nutt immediately. Michael does come a lot, he remembered fondly. The taste of ass in the background made John work his tongue ever deeper, wanting to scoop out as much of Michael's baby batter as he could reach. However, with his dick so hard for so long, he couldn't eat Andrew's ass as long as he wanted to. He stood and pressed his big, black meat against the ass lips he'd just spread with his tongue. Andrew allowed him inside, but only a few inches before he tightened up.
"Fuck! You're enormous, John! How do you take such a horse dick, Michael?" Andrew moaned.
"Lots of practice," Michael smiled as he leaned over and kissed his husband on the lips. "My cum tastes pretty good after Andrew stored it for a few minutes for me," he laughed.
"Oh, yeah," John agreed. "I always love the taste of your sweet, dick gravy."
By now, Andrew had relaxed enough that John's long, thick, black snake was completely buried. In John's favor was his control. He wasn't so easily overwhelmed by Andrew's skills as a bottom. He held out for several minutes before his heavy nuts finally gave up their load and added his essence to Michael's. He always nutted about the same volume as Michael did and shot his load just about as hard.
"What kind of vitamins do you guys take?" Andrew asked as John slowed his post climax fucking. "I felt both of you spray your loads into me and they weren't small ones, either. And what surprises me the most is that both of you pounded out a nutt earlier this evening already."
John shrugged. Michael ventured, "Frequent fucking?"
Andrew laughed. "Yeah, that could be it. Or both of you are blessed with the amazing ability to pump out big loads anytime the occasion calls for it."
They rested for a few minutes, taking turns sticking their dicks in Andrew's mouth while they alternated giving the newscaster a blowjob. He warned them when he was going to nutt, so both of them had their mouth next to the tip of his dick when he erupted. His load was a modest one and only squirted a little before dribbling. The quantity was about half of theirs. But, they enjoyed the taste.
Michael and John shared more loads with Andrew during the rest of the night. They did get a couple of hours of sleep, but that sleep was broken up into segments of less than an hour. Andrew's ass was getting fucked and eaten the rest of the time. He didn't mind at all. Andrew didn't have any appearances to make in the morning, so he could sleep at home and catch up. No amount of make-up was going to hide his tired eyes when he left. The boys had suggested breakfast out, but Andrew declined. He really did need rest. And his ass hurt after all the fucking he got from John and Michael.
As it was the weekend, the boys went back to bed and slept until noon. Rested and happy, they showered together and renewed their physical connection with another mutual fuck. It was this kind of bonding that they enjoyed the most.
On Monday, the boys had returned to the Asquith estate to resume translating two texts that purported to discuss the scientific achievements of Atlantis. The Latin text had several holes in the text, not because of age or insects feeding on it, but because the Latin translators couldn't figure out what the Atlantean symbology meant. They had included the symbols for future generations to figure out.
Working with the symbology software, John substituted the symbols and then waited for the software to translate it. Other people had been working with other Atlantean texts and had already found the same symbols. With the context of several texts, the software had made several suggestions for most of the symbols. "Mike, look at this!" he exclaimed.
Michael moved over to where John was working and looked at the screen and the translation that John had done to date. The software had substituted words for the symbols. They made perfect sense now. "Another reference to an ancient people!" Michael nearly shouted. "But, this text calls them the Ocksamar. Do you think they mean the Okam? The sound is approximately the same. What's the timeline here? How long after the Okam disappeared was Atlantis supposed to have happened?"
"Let me check," John said. He looked at three other screens. All three of the experts who had tried to date the Atlantean texts weren't in agreement. "Their guesses were 12,000 to 10,000 years ago. The end of the Okams is dated from about 14,000 years ago with those massive floods from the melting glaciers. So, I suppose some of their technology could have transferred, along with their reading and writing skills. There was another ice age between 14,000 and 12,000 years ago, so they would have had to be far enough south to preserve their culture and the written word from the Okam."
"When people are in survival mode because of climate change, they will preserve the most precious items of their culture. That would include language, fables, religion, writing, and scientific knowledge that would help them survive," Michael observed. "And that scientific knowledge could form the basis for some parts of their religious observances, like the stars and planets, and the moon. Knowing when to plant crops would be necessary for their continued survival, so that knowledge wouldn't be abandoned in a move, even a big move."
"Those assumptions may or may not be true," John cautioned. "You should write this up and run it by some of the experts, see what their take is on our assumptions. Meanwhile, I'm going to set aside my text and help you with yours. This is exciting stuff!"
John read through the translation that Michael had already accomplished while Michael composed a message to the other Atlantean translators to see what they thought of what he'd discovered. And he wanted an estimate of the time period that the original text was written in, if they were willing to suggest one. When Michael had sent the message, he asked, "Did you see that part where the writer said he was chronicling the reign of their leader?"
John nodded. "What do you suppose he was called? I'm not seeing a translation for it."
"Let me see if there is a phonetic equivalent through the symbol recognition software," Michael replied. "I was so caught up the narrative that I didn't bother to ask the software for a translation." He scanned the symbols and sent them off to the software. The translation came back almost immediately. "Evidently, it was a popular name," Michael smiled. "It sounds like Gamdor. And he had an honorific that would translate to `the Wise'. That would differentiate him from previous Gamdors, I suppose." He looked back at the screen. "And he's the 134th sovereign of the Atlanteans."
"Makes you wonder when they started counting and how many years it entails," John mused.
"The text also states that he had followed two other Gamdors and three Trenaths," Michael added. "I wonder if anyone is trying to compose a listing of the sovereigns in order to give us some idea of who they were and when they reigned."
"I'll send a text over to the other researchers and see if anyone has considered the idea," John offered. Almost immediately, he got an answer. "You're gonna love this," he smiled. "One of the researchers has a text that lists all the sovereigns of Atlantis and their right to rule because of their ancestry to previous sovereigns. Evidently, there was a royal family that ruled Atlantis. But, he put aside the text because it looked boring and didn't tell us anything about the life and times of the Atlanteans. He's going to take another look at it and see if the software can figure it out. Proper names are always difficult to translate, though."
"Let's get back to your text and see what else our scribe has to say about the Ocksamar," Michael suggested. "I haven't seen anything that tells us how long ago they got their information from their ancient benefactors. So far, it only makes vague references to them and that the Atlanteans are indebted to them for the foundations of their science and religion."
"Maybe our scribe has more to say about what specific foundations he's talking about. That would mean that the Okams had already discovered these principles and passed them along," John said. "But, that doesn't explain why these foundations weren't included in the tale that Mem told us about his people. If they were so important, why weren't they included in his narrative about his people?"
"Maybe they weren't important to the Okams, but became important to the Atlanteans," Michael suggested. "Maybe they were considered commonplace and not worth mentioning in the history of his people. That was a history, not a compendium of their discoveries."
"But, if it came from the gods, wouldn't he have mentioned it along with their newfound skills in reading and writing and agricultural advances?"
"Perhaps, it didn't come from the gods," Michael countered.
"So, what could a primitive civilization have discovered on their own that would be the foundation of science and religion for the Atlanteans?" John pressed again.
"We can speculate forever and never figure it out," Michael sighed. "Let's get back to the text and see if it can enlighten us."
They struggled the rest of the afternoon with the text. It was very slow going. Very little of the Atlantean text had been translated into Latin. Nearly all of it was written in Atlantean symbology. The software was some help, but that still left large gaps in the narrative. By the end of the afternoon, nearly half of the text hadn't been explored yet. They were looking at another two weeks of brain-mashing work to get to the end. Perhaps in those two weeks, more symbols would be translated and more sense would be made of the text.
Tuesday morning, they were called into a meeting of the Atlantean translators for an update with Mr. Asquith. "This is the one civilization that the media have been clamoring for," one professorial member of the team began. "The work has been slow, but we have found out quite a bit about our Atlantean friends. From what I've seen of my work and others, the Atlantean civilization has been around in some form for at least 6,000 years." There were nods all around the table. "They could have made some pretty incredible advances in that time. However, we're not seeing any details that tell us that they did with their time as the pre-eminent civilization on earth. Perhaps it was the isolation that contributed to their stagnation, assuming there was stagnation."
"You're sure of the time the civilization flourished?" Mr. Asquith asked.
"Yes," another member spoke up. "The listing of the sovereigns or kings indicates that's the case. I don't have a definitive listing of all the names and their relationships to each other because of the difficulty we are all having with the symbology of the Atlanteans, but I do see that much time passing in the ancestral charts."
"How are we doing on the software translating the symbols?" the boss queried.
The members of the Atlantean team looked at each other, but no one offered an answer. Finally, one of the young men who had worked on the software spoke up. John thought he was one of the graduate students that had helped them in Rome. "I'm given to understand that the symbols are phonetic in nature. I think we have an excellent alphabet and I think it's complete. However, the sounds that make words are words we've never heard and have no idea of their meaning. Therefore, we're stuck until someone can build a vocabulary. That's the problem we seem to be facing. Even then, with so many scribes telling us about Atlantis, they were probably using different words than the earlier writers. Each text may require a whole new vocabulary. Let me put this in perspective. Old English has been around since the Middle Ages. However, it is significantly different from modern English. And that's only been about 700 to 1,000 years. Imagine the changes in 6,000 years!"
"Who do we have in this group of experts who is an excellent linguist? Perhaps he or she can make some sense of this," Mr. Asquith pressed.
"That would be Mr. Jansen," one of the senior researchers volunteered. "But, he's working on another project, I think."
"John, find out what he's working on and let me know. This seems more important to me right now, but I don't want to tear him away from something even more important," the boss directed.
Jansen was working on a vocabulary syllabus for a Minoan text. However, it wasn't as significant as most of the Minoan translation had already occurred. What he was doing was "embroidering the edges" as he called it. "I'd love to work on the Atlantean vocabulary. Do you have the alphabet finished?" he asked John.
"I'm told that the alphabet is complete, but you might wish to confirm that."
"When do I start?"
"Immediately," John replied. He took Mr. Jansen over to the Atlantean group and introduced him. After introductions were made, Michael pulled John aside and asked if he thought that Jansen was gay. "My gaydar says yes, but he hasn't made any overt moves or gestures that anyone else would pick up on. However, the eye contact was very telling."
"Let's keep an eye on him," Michael smiled. "I think he's handsome as hell and very fuckable."
"And you're a pig," John laughed. Michael only smiled at the obvious observation.
Mr. Jansen was focused exclusively on his Atlantean task. He didn't break for lunch or conversation. He'd dash to the men's room and then scurry back as if he were afraid that he'd lose what he'd already done if he stayed away too long. When everyone else left for the day, he was still at it. Michael told Jansen not to stay too late or he'd lose his concentration and his brain would get fuzzy. Jansen acknowledged him with a wave, but never looked up.
Wednesday morning the boys arrived at the estate at their usual time. They were nearly delayed by a particularly hungry bodybuilder who needed two deep fucks to start his day at the gym. John wanted to pound the guy's ass again, but they were running out of time. "You can fuck me later at the estate," Michael suggested with a leer. When they went into their lab, they saw that they were the first to arrive. However, Jansen was resting on his lab table, fast asleep. Obviously, he hadn't gone home. Michael shook him awake. When Jansen sat up, he rubbed his eyes and blinked at them.
"Oh, what time is it?" he asked blearily, looking at his watch, but not really able to focus yet.
"What time did you fall asleep?" John asked.
"Uh, I'm not sure. After midnight, I think," Jensen answered rubbing his hands across his face.
"Was it worth it?" Michael wondered.
"Yeah," Jansen brightened. "I think I have the beginnings of a working vocabulary, but I'll need some assistance with some of the characters and the sounds they are supposed to represent."
"I can help you with that," John volunteered.
"And I'll keep a running log of the translations as we go," Michael offered.
They worked until noon, but Jansen was fading fast. The sleep that he got at the lab desk hadn't been restful or long enough to refresh him. John and Michael told him to go home and come back in the morning after he was more rested. He was no good to anyone with his flagging energy levels. Reluctantly, he agreed that he was making mistakes and needed to rest.
"Gay as a picnic basket," Michael whispered in John's ear as Jansen left the room.
"And I know he wants to play. Shall we suggest a tryst to him?" John smirked.
"I think he's pretty closeted," Michael cautioned. "We may scare him away."
"Well, let's invite him to dinner then. After all, we don't want a repeat of last night when he spent the night here," John smiled rapaciously.
"He'll be putty in our hands by the time we finish with dinner," Michael grinned knowingly.
But, their brilliant plan was thwarted by Jansen having other plans for the evening. He was meeting a friend for dinner and a movie before heading home to bed. "However, I do appreciate the invitation. How about a rain check?"
"How does tomorrow evening work for you?" John suggested with a predatory smile.
"Sure!" Jansen beamed.
Friday morning, Jansen was a little late and frazzled. His lips were slightly swollen and the area around his mouth looked like he had whisker burns. A cursory check of his neck showed the same abrasions. The boys didn't think it was the beginnings of a rash. Jansen had been with someone last night! And it was a HE!
Michael and John took notice and smiled to each other, but didn't let on that they knew what probably happened last night. By mid-morning, Jansen had recovered his energy and was eagerly working through the Atlantean text that John had been trying to translate. Jansen had started at the beginning of the text and filled in a few of the blanks that John and Michael hadn't been able to figure out.
Michael posted the new words in the dictionary as fast as Jansen pronounced them. The excitement of the Atlantean team was palpable. Several of the men and women had gone back through their works and added in the new words as they came through the computer system. By Friday evening, the team had made remarkable progress in their work, but they were still well short of a working vocabulary. They had agreed that there was a need for a Monday meeting to discuss their latest findings. This would allow them to put their work in context with the others in the group. Summaries of work to date would be available to all participants by Monday morning. The raw translations (such as they were) would be shared with anyone who wanted more specific information.
Michael and John worked on their summary with Jansen providing occasional nuances of wording. By six, they were ready to leave for dinner and drinks at the boy's condo. Hopefully, more than that would happen. Anyway, that was the boy's hope. Jansen was still a mystery in that department. At least, they'd found out that their dinner guest had a first name. It was Magnus.
Magnus helped with the dinner preparation by setting the table. He's stopped on his way to the condo to pick up some flowers and wine to go with dinner. John grilled chicken on the barbeque and roasted corn on the cob. Michael made a salad and heated dinner rolls. They ate outside on the terrace, enjoying each other's company. They found out that Magnus had a very dry sense of humor and was very quick with repartee. A second bottle of wine had been consumed before John poured a modest quantity of 180-year old Grand Marnier into brandy snifters. They toasted to each other's good health and the success of the Atlantean project.
They told him he had to spend the night with them, because he'd had too much to drink. He didn't protest at all. It was times like this that they were happy that they'd bought the California king bed with the extra width and length. They helped him undress and explored his tight body with their lips and tongues. He had a swimmer's build on his 5' 11" frame. His dick was a little longer than average and had a delightful upward curve to it. The thickness was average. His dick was cut and had a nice head on it. When Michael pulled off Magnus' shorts, Magnus' dick sprang up hard and hungry. It was already leaking precum.
"What are you up for?" John asked as he slid his very large, black dick up and down Magnus' ass trench. Michael had already fallen to his knees and engulfed Magnus' hard dick in his hungry mouth.
"Everything!" Magnus replied eagerly. "I sure hope you're both negative."
"We are," John assured him over his back. He kissed Magnus and pressed his thick, long dick harder into Magnus' ass canyon. "And you?"
"Yeah, negative, too. Do you eat ass?" Magnus smiled impishly.
"Every chance we get," Michael assured him, pulling off Magnus' dick just long enough to answer the question. "And you?"
"I did say everything, didn't I?" Magnus smirked. "And I'm such a bottom that it's nearly embarrassing."
"Why should you be embarrassed about what you like to do?" John said. "We love to give and take all the time. I guess that makes us the classic definition of versatile."
"Just make sure your versatility is focused on pounding my ass and breeding me repeatedly," Magnus urged. "But, Michael has to fuck me first. I've never had dicks up my ass as big as what you two have swinging between your legs. And I've only been with two other black men. Sadly, both were bottoms. We didn't do so well bumpin' uglies!"
The boys laughed at his characterization, but didn't disabuse Magnus of his need to get bred by Michael and John in the correct order. With his tongue buried deeply in Magnus' ass, Michael was eager to get his dick between those sweet bubble butt cheeks that he'd gotten so wet. "Hand me the lube, John," he directed. "If this boy hasn't had a dick our size yet, he'll need more than my tongue to grease the way into his warm depths." Michael applied the lube and followed it immediately with this fat dick. Magnus was still too tight to take him. So, he finger fucked him for a few minutes. Magnus said he really needed dick now, so Michael obliged him. He did slide in deeper, but didn't get all the way in. He pushed and withdrew several times before Magnus relaxed enough to take all of him. "Damn! Sweet, tight hole, Magnus!" he sighed.
"You have the whole weekend to loosen it up," Magnus grinned up at him before John squatted over Magnus' face and made him eat his black hole out. It wasn't much of a struggle to get the Scandinavian man to service both of them in every way he could.
This story is fiction. Your life isn't. Please play safely.
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