Date: Sat, 15 Oct 2011 05:26:49 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Treasure Hunt 3

Treasure Hunt 3

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 any comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com

One of my tasks was seek out information on the Duke of Lerna and his
ill-fated expedition.  On rainy days, I went to the library and searched
through the Greek's writings. I came to like the Greek. Unlike most of the
conquistadors, he was educated and humane. He seemed to feel genuine
sympathy for the Mayan population and their plight. He was shocked at the
horrible toll disease took on the Indians.

He was puzzled at the outbreaks and was looked for possible reasons. The
normal explanation was that it was God's judgment on heathens. As a Greek
refugee, he was well aware there were many heathens who didn't suffer, even
when they had much greater military success than the Christians did.
Pasteur was 400 hundred years in the future, so the Greek was lost.

Unfortunately, the Greek was not interested in gold. Treasure had no allure
for him. He discussed the transitory nature of wealth and fame. Again, the
collapse of Constantinople may have played a role. His family had lost
everything.  He and his mother seemed to be the only members of his family
to escape. Gold meant nothing to him compared the family he never saw
again.

One of Pedro's friends, Carlo, attached himself to me as an assistant. He
was also one of Padre Ernesto's friends. At first I thought he was a
seminarian of some sort, but in this part of Mexico, relationships were
often more fluid than that. He had sickly parents and needed to stay
nearby.  I think he was sort of an apprentice priest. He helped me as
needed and assisted Ernesto as needed.

I didn't like the idea of a personal servant, it reeked of 19th century
servitude, but Carlo was helpful. He had a deep and complete understanding
of local Mayan culture, history and beliefs. When I worked on the Greek
translations, he provided the background I needed to understand them. The
Greek was neither modern nor ancient and many of the terms were obscure.

The Greek had used some native Mayan words, but converted them into what he
thought was the Greek alternative.  This was most confusing. He also used
some odd euphemisms for sexual terms.  He was a shy man and avoided the
vulgar. Carlo was helpful with this. Many sexual terms were treated as
agricultural or farming words, all associated with the fertility of the
land.

Carlo said this reflected the local dialect's preferences. The cock was a
seed planter, and an orgasm was a seed spring. The seed spring combined
fertility and the need for water, two basic themes of Indian life. To plant
seed in the warm earth meant to fuck and shoot in the ass. Warm earth was a
euphemism for ass. To gather seed for planting was to suck a man to
completion and swallow his semen.

Carlo understood this. Man and the earth were one, and they saw man a super
plant. Like plants, they produce seed. While men ate the plants of the
earth, they also replenished the earth with their seed, and with man soil.

Carlo said they knew manure served as a fertilizer. The ass, warm earth,
produced manure for the cold earth, or the land. While plants produced seed
once or twice a year, men produced it all year long. It was important to
save seed until later. Thus the local Indians sucked up their friends'
sperm and ate it, preferably straight from the spigot. The cock was a seed
spring, or a deep planter. It was a seed spring for oral sex and a deep
planter for anal sex.

Carlo wasn't sure, if the seedeater or the bottom actually saved the sperm
for later use, or if the sperm provided a sort of super vitamin for
increased fertility. There seemed to be a difference of opinion. This was
sort of a Catholic versus Protestant conflict, but unlike our own
conflicts, this was purely theological and did not involve violence.

They called the vagina the nursery. Sex with a woman was "filling the
nursery."  Most of the book discussed man on man sex, rather than man with
women sex. There was a problem with nurseries that were unready, or
cold. Birth was the great sacrifice.

"Women were fragile and delicate, and childbirth dangerous. It was
important to make sure a woman was strong and in good health," Carlo
explained. "When the Spanish came, the Virgin Mary was particularly
attractive to the Mayans in this area. To revere a mother who had survived
the travails of birth was natural to them.

Jesus and his twelve disciples were easily understood. A man with friends
was the local term for being a good man. To drink from your friend's
spring, was an expression of great affection. The Greek mentioned sacred
springs, but it wasn't clear if these were geological or sexual features.

Carlo knew all about my sexual preferences. Everyone knew all about them. I
assumed they were shocked, but found out they were pleased I shared their
traditional values. After living with American "traditional values," I
forgot some people valued friendship and intimacy. The locals regarded
outsiders as cold, standoffish people. Our little group was a sexually
generous exception to the rule. Samuel and Robin were much admired.

What we might regard as slutty, they saw as friendly. Europeans tended to
regard sex as power, while the locals saw it as fun. While fucking a man
might be an expression of dominance to us, they saw as a good way to make a
friend. We were all willing to take Mayan cock and sperm. This was just
being gracious and cordial to the locals.

To say we were willing understates the case. We were enthusiastic. This
greatly increased our status. I later found out Pedro let other men know
how much he enjoyed us. He was much more than a household servant to the
Patron in the Mayan Community. He was an elder and a leader.  He connected
Julio, the Patron, with the Mayans.

Typically, the Patron was all but the feudal ruler of the area. He ruled to
roost. In many places, he ruled for his own benefit and the locals got
scraps from his table. Julio's family had built up genuine affection for
their people. Some of that had to do with inter marriage. A number of
locals were related. As far as I could tell, Julio liked his people, and
while he understood their culture, he didn't admire their poverty. He was
looking for a way to save their culture and make their lives better.

Julio's hope was that heritage tourism would enrich the area without
destroying it. He wasn't interested in casinos or nightclubs. He wanted
educated cultural tourists who would admire the local culture. This was a
tough balancing act, but at least he was trying.

Pedro made him aware of problems. He represented the Indian point of view
and Julio represented them well. El Lobo also had input, but his thinking
was all European leftist and didn't always represent the Mayan approach to
life.

Pedro enjoyed us sexually and he let like-minded men know about our
interests. Of course, the younger men were typically sought after as sex
partners by wealthy visitors. I tended to like older men, and Pedro let
this be known.

Carlo wasn't interested in me sexually; his Uncle Jesus was. Americans tend
to be a mass of racial hang-ups. This wasn't true here. Mayans and
Spaniards had been intermarrying for centuries. There were persons who
looked all Mayan and all Spaniard, but I didn't know if this was due to
rare survivors of ancient stock, or due to the vagaries of genetics.  Carlo
appeared to be all European; his uncle had Mayan skin color, but was tall
and hairy like a Spaniard.

He was about my age and came with Carlo to look at the documents I was
translating.  He had been a schoolteacher and the Latin documents
fascinated him.  These were the day-to-day records of the monks, but were
not written by the Greek.  An educated man, his Latin was rusty but came
back quickly. Jesus was helpful and soon Carlos returned to the church to
take care of his normal tasks.

Jesus had not taken to retirement well.  He wanted to be doing
something. He was married, but his marriage was most successful when they
were apart. He taught at a private school two hundred miles away. He lived
at the school and mailed his paychecks home, visiting on holidays and in
the summer.  That had been a prefect arrangement. He had three married
daughters who lived nearby, and when he stayed home, rather than going to
work, he disrupted the henhouse. "Frankly, there was no room for a rooster
there," Jesus explained to me. "The house was a well oiled machine and I
disrupted it. It is better when I am away."

He saw sex as a recreational activity and liked it all. Jesus wasn't a
lover but he was playful and inventive. His was well endowed, but not
exceptionally so. His cock fit in your mouth and ass easily. His ass was
flexible and firm. Jesus made friends easily. Jesus was tall, but not
particularly attractive.  He wasn't ugly, but he had crooked facial
features, somewhat concealed by a big beard. Hollywood would have cast him
as a South American revolutionary, but he had a playful sense of humor. His
willingness to engage in sexual activity provided many friends. He said he
looked at the heart, not the face of a man. That may have been true, but he
looked at the crotch just after the heart.

As a former teacher, he had tried to keep his sexual preferences hidden.
Jesus no longer taught, but old habits die slowly.  The library was
secluded and in the rear of the main house. I found him with a friend one
morning.  He asked if I would like to join in. Against my better judgment I
did. It was a wild and invigorating experience.

Jesus had good taste in men.  They were affable, pleasant and wanted to
please. While Jesus was full service, he did have a preference for the
top. Most of his friends were workers who tended to defer to him. I am full
service with a liking for the bottom. His friend, Raoul, was an older, very
polite man with a beer can cock. We ended up playing a musical chairs as we
rotated through the possible combinations of cock and ass.

We tried them all but it was good when I screwed Raoul while Jesus screwed
me and great when I mounted Jesus as Raoul fucked me. I seemed to enjoy
being in the middle, something that Jesus remembered. Raoul's thick
ass-plug like cock was very good when it met my prostate. Jesus had many
friends and liked to share.

I was worried that the sexual connection with the working men might be a
problem. Back in the United States, I would have been considered a slut,
but here I was just a good sport. Sex with men wasn't sex. It was just
having some fun with your buddies. It was neither immoral nor even risqué.

My own tastes helped the situation. Many persons of European ancestry
treated Indians as inferiors. They thought of them as sex toys for their
enjoyment. The Mayans were pleased when they had a chance to fuck a white
ass, and my taste for man seed served directly from the cock was good for
them too. Some white visitors were offended and pulled away when an Indian
had an orgasm. I sucked it up with considerable enjoyment. I also took it
in the ass. It was an honor to offer a friend your seed. To reject the
offer was an insult.

My obvious enjoyment of their attentions was also important. I loved it. I
was afraid I was being a bit slutty. They felt that if they offered you
their most intimate gift, their seed, the least you could do is enjoy it.

Through Jesus, I came to understand the relaxed and casual approach to life
of the locals. I met Jesus' friends and they introduced me to men they
thought I would like. I was also able to explain some of my friends about
the local customs. Robin and Samuel were open-minded men and had no problem
sharing their bodies and manly juices with the Indians.

On one Sunday afternoon, Jesus came by and asked if I would like to go
fishing with him. He said a friend of his had a hut near a good fishing
spot. While we talked about fish, I had a feeling he was talking about
something else. "We will catch the fish and then have a little fiesta!" he
said. I joined him.

We drove into the jungle a few miles then went down a trail. We came to a
large thatched hut next to a lake. There were ten or so Indians, Robin,
Samuel and El Lobo already there.  All were naked. They had completed their
fishing that morning.  This was the fiesta.

I stripped and joined the men; Samuel came over to me. "This is a special
ceremony. It's the equinox, we are greatly honored to be here," he said. "I
think we may get to participate in some ancient rites. They are
pre-Christian.  I assume you have no problem with that."

"None at all," I said. "Is it some sort of initiation?"

"That is my guess. I suspect we three have shared enough sperm with them to
be acceptable," he said.

I smiled. "Me too."

"Robin is the exciting one. He a red bear and they think red hair is a mark
of other worldly origins," Samuel explained.

"Robin is about as un otherworldly as a man can get!" I said.

"There is a Hercules like figure in their mythology. That figure is
referred to as the Red One," Samuel continued. "They assumed he was painted
red. When they saw Robin they realized what it really meant." Ten or twenty
more Indians joined us and the fiesta began.

There was much drinking, both of homemade beer and of Corona beer in
cans. Everyone was in a good mood that only got better. There was singing,
a combination of modern Mexican favorites and of some ancient chants. The
food was good.  As we ate and drank more, the chants became dominant.

One of the oldest and biggest of the men, a man I had never seen before
went over to Robin, kissed his cock and then got on his hands and knees. He
spread his ass wide so his ass was defenseless. Another man had a small
bowl he held next out to Robin dipped his fingers in it and coated his
cock.

The chanting continued as Robin mounted the Indian. It must have been a
tight fit, but when Robin's cock popped in the ass, there was a joyous
outbreak.  The chant became more festive. A second man came up to Samuel
and the sequence of events was repeated. When Samuel was in the second ass,
a third man came over to me.

By the time I was in his ass, Robin had climaxed and was on his back.  He
hooked his legs with his arms, so that his ass was open. Robin told me
later it just seemed like a nice thing to do. Robin tended to be evenhanded
and liked the bottom and the top. No one had given him any instruction.

Somehow, that was the correct action. The chanting became more festive as
the assembled Indians took turns in Robin's ass. Samuel and I followed
Robin's example and open out asses for the general pleasure.

I'm not positive, but I think each of the twenty-five or so Indians spent
some time on our asses. Some made a perfunctory slip in and pull out
visit. Some had full-scale orgasms. If this had been in New York or LA it
would have been a gangbang. Here it seemed like a very intense handshake,
or perhaps exchanging the secret coded symbol at an initiation.

For a few of the men, it was much more than that. I had met El Lobo before
and he had been polite and pleasant. He became most excited as soon as his
cock head cleared my sphincter. I think six or seven men climaxed in me. It
was easy to take the cocks. All were well lubricated and soon the lubricant
mixed with sperm.

Once that part of the ceremony ended, we returned to eating and
drinking. After taking perhaps twenty-five cocks, I should have been
tired. I was exhilarated and fully erect. Many went swimming in the pond
and returned refreshed and invigorated. Apparently, the ceremonial sex was
now over, and they now allowed recreational sex. By now, everyone had
climaxed, so the pressure to shoot off was past. It was an afternoon of
playful and lazy, if not passionate, sex.

Robin, Samuel and I had asses filled with man seed. When I mounted one of
the men El Lobo came to me again and plugged the drooling hole. This time I
had a chance to savor his cock and technique. This position was better for
me, and seemed to be much better for El Lobo. He again became very
enthusiastic. He left after he shot off but came back to me several times
again later in the afternoon.

I was getting tired but saw Robin on his back with two younger men holding
his legs open and a third with his tongue deep in his ass. He was
blindfolded. A minute later, a cluster of younger men came to me and did
the same thing to me.  The one holding my legs fed me his cock as he sucked
mine.  He shot off quickly. I ate his load and another youth replaced
him. The man at my ass was probing deep and seemed to be trying to lick up
the accumulated cum in my ass.

I wasn't too sure about this but the series of orgasms in my mouth made it
hard to concentrate. I liked sucking cock but this was almost too
much. Almost is the key word here. I couldn't see the Indians but they had
forceful orgasms consisting of multiple ejaculations.

While I didn't like being blindfolded; I sensed no danger or ill feeling.
It was a joyous occasion. El Lobo told me later these were men who were
preparing to join the leadership cluster. That we fed on their semen was an
important part of the preparation. They were to feed the guests with their
own man seed. At the next meeting, they would receive man seed as we had.
Then they would become part of the tribal elite.

They removed the blindfolds and we returned to eating, drinking and
screwing. El Lobo brought over an older man.  He was an uncle, Old Pedro
from a distant village. I wasn't sure if he was an actual uncle or an older
family friend, a courtesy uncle. The man was thin and somewhat frail. He
was nervous.

I put my arm around Old Pedro and he relaxed.  We got down on the mats
covering the floor. I licked his soft cock. It came to life. His cock was
average, but his balls were oversized, and, as it turned out,
overfilled. Eventually I drained them. He had a spectacular orgasms that
attracted several, appreciative onlookers.

Old Pedro had a lava-flow type orgasm, rather than an explosive one. I
would let few ejaculations' ooze form his cock and then lick it up. The
observers liked this. It was an impressive display of manly vigor from an
elderly man.  El Lobo's friend was beaming in pleasure. I think the
pleasure was from both the orgasm itself and the admiration of the
audience.

Robin joined me in the cleanup taking the old man's final ejaculations.
Robin was a good sport and wanted to share in the older man's
vigor. Afterwards, El Lobo, Old Pedro and I talked for a while, and then I
returned home.  El Lobo came to me two weeks later and told me Old Predro
died. He had been an important man in his village, but had never
participated in the upper level ceremonies for various reasons.

El Lobo thanked me. I had completed his friend's long life. The ceremony
was the missing honor. That a scholar from a distant land and the Red One
drained his balls was good beyond his wildest imaginings. El Lobo was
almost tearful as he told me. I felt better about El Lobo. He was closer to
his people that I thought.

It was a rainy period and I spent most of my time in the library. Jesus
found texts relating to the Duke of Lerna's treasure. The Greek wasn't
interested in treasure. His fellow monks were more worldly in their
interests. Jesus was puzzled that some of his more utilitarian text was
written on only one side of the parchment pages. He was also surprised they
were written on parchment at all. Parchment is expensive and typically used
for religious or historical texts. Nothing in the accounting records
justified the cost of the pages. Certainly, if they were using parchment
they would have tried to get as much on the sheet as possible and used both
sides. The texts were in widely spaced lines and comparatively large
figures.

When Jesus held the parchment up to the light, he was able to make out a
pale inscription on the backside of the sheets. In the dark storage room of
the church, this text couldn't be seen at all. It was evident in Julio's
well-lighted library.

The Duke of Lerna had much plunder from his expedition. The combination of
disease, and Indian attacks had reduced his troops to a handful. They were
no longer capable of carrying the hoard, so they buried it. The monk had
found the skeletal remains of the last survivors and an account of the
treasure as well as a map. Unfortunately, the monk gave a description of
the map and did not specify a starting point.