Date: Sat, 20 Jan 2001 07:21:11 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <Bldhrymn@excite.com>
Subject: Expedition 2

Expedition 2

By Bald Hairy Man, e mail bldhrymn@aol.com or bldhrymn@excite.com

This story shares some characters with A Christmas Story and with Old
Guys. It is pure fantasy with no effort a safe sexual practices. Some might
recognize that I am interested in older men, often bearded and hairy. If
you like beach bunnies, this is not the story for you. If you are underage,
or uninterested in openly homosexual content, do NOT read it.



It was a productive day. I realized that I would need two offices, on in
the field at the site and another with a more regular supply of electricity
for the computers. Juan was a good computer draftsman, and I an old
fashioned hand-drawing man. I could work in poor conditions, but computers
wouldn't work well on gasoline generators.

That night after dinner, I discussed the problems with Roberto, Sean and
Carlo. Sean, the archaeologist, was a big redheaded Scot, trained in the
sophisticated techniques of English archaeology. He had a big beard and
hearty laugh. I thought that a man as big as he would be troubled by the
heat. That wasn't the case. He was one of those men who thought heat was a
luxury item, to be savored and enjoyed.

Carlo, the site supervisor, was short, Mexican-Italian, and a bundle of
energy. He had experience on several earlier digs but this was his first
time in charge. He wanted this project to be a success.  Carlo had a degree
in archaeology from a Mexican university.  His father was a building
contractors. This background in construction was helpful.

Roberto was a perceptive man.  He understood the need for two offices, but
was at a loss as to where to locate one into his house. It had a reliable
electric system, but the house was fully occupied.  He had a big guest
house in addition to the one I was in, but he needed to provide for
visitors. I suggested that my bedroom in the small guest house was well
suited.

"You don't mind sleeping in your office?" he asked.

"It will take me back to my college days, sleeping in the drafting room on
my board was not that rare." I said laughing. "If worse comes to worse, I
can find a vacant bed in the bunk house."  Roberto gave me a knowing look.

"There is always an extra cot at the site in my tent." Sean said. "Carlo
and I don't mind sharing." I looked at him, and we understood each other
perfectly.  I was to get a detailed tour of the site the next morning and
Sean suggested that I spend the night at his tent so we could get an early
start.  That was fine with me.

I returned to my room and Poppa had found clothes suitable for me to use in
the field. My Lynchburg clothes were worthless in the jungle.  He had
already packed an overnight bag. Juan was off the next morning to Mexico
City to get the equipment we needed.  Poppa said he would come over the
next morning.

"Sean and Carlo are nice men." He said. "You'll like them."

We drove into the darkness. Carlo must have known the way by heart since
there was nothing other than pitch darkness as far as I could see. The
gloom was barely penetrated by the feeble headlights of Carlo's Bronco.

At the camp their tent was labeled the Casa Grande, and it was an
impressive assemblage of units.  Essentially it was four tents forming a
courtyard. The tents had a second upper level tent that gave them a vaguely
oriental, pagoda-like look and provided good ventilation. The courtyard was
covered in screening.

"We have tried to make an insect free space. It's a hopeless task, but it's
a lot better than nothing." Sean said.  The kitchen tent was a short way
off, but a flap connected it directly to the camp showers.

"Unless there is company we are usually naked in here." Carlo said. "Do you
think of yourself as company?"

"Hell no." I said.

"A night cap?" Sean asked.  I said sure.

"Remember that alcohol is the safest thing to drink if there is any
question." Sean said. "Only the water in Roberto's house is safe. He has a
100% American filtration system."

We sat down naked sipping a gin and tonic. Carlo was olive skinned and
deeply tanned, covered with curly black hair. He had an uncut cock that
hung to his knees. He was a short man, but he wasn't short in that
division. Sean was pink and covered with a thick layer of red hair, from
head to toe and front and back. He had a ball like cock head enveloped in
foreskin displayed on his big balls.

"I thought I was hairy." I said. They laughed.

"You are hairy enough!" Carlo said. "The brown and white hair makes you
look like cinnamon and sugar. The Indians in the crew think of Sean as a
creature from another planet. Some of the locals had never seen a
red-haired man."  We talked for a while and went to bed.

I woke the next morning with a hard on. I stood up. Sean was in the next
cot.

"Interested in a little morning recreation?" Sean asked.  He got up and
swallowed my cock without waiting for my reply.  He was a first class cock
sucker. Carlo entered the tent from the shower.

"Is there room for a third?" he asked. I nodded. I got back on my cot and
Sean continued to suck me while Carlo straddled my face and I worked my
tongue into the pucker of his foreskin. I shot off. Sean continued to suck.

"Time to get to work!"  Sean said. Carlo pulled away.

"I don't want to leave you guys hanging." I said. "I always finish what I
start."

"Not to worry." Carlo said. "There is no problem finishing up any time or
any where you might wish. Everyone is very open. No hang ups, no
inhibitions.  This evening is a fiesta for some prominent visitors. Save
your cum and we will all have a good time." Sean and I went to the showers.

The water was warm and pleasant. Sean offered to wash my back. "It was hard
for me to get accustomed to this place. It's not much like St. Andrew's."
Sean said. "Every thing sexual is so casual and open. It's like Margaret
Mead's Polynesia.  Except all gay, of course." He worked a finger in my
ass. "Does this bother you?" he asked as he pressed my prostate. I bent
over to give him easier access.

"Guess?" I said. I involuntarily moaned. "I'm not very experienced, but it
seems I like it just fine."

"Are you interested in getting more experienced?" He asked. "I know you
Americans are more oral. Mexicans like anal. I do too." He was really doing
a job on my prostate. This was not his first time finger fucking.

"Let's just say I'm always open to new cultural experiences." I said.

"I hoped you'd say that." Sean said. "Your cut cock will cause a stir. It's
a rarity here. Usually the exposed head is a sign that you are ready to
play. The locals think you're not really naked unless your cock head can be
seen. They'll be really interested." He took his finger out.

"Damn, that was good." I said. "Thank you."

"The pleasure was all mine.  I assure you." Sean said. "Carlo sometimes
forgets to check these things out. He's so enthusiastic that he doesn't
realize that some guys don't like what he likes. I wanted to make sure we
were all on the same wave length."

"Is he a top?"

"He likes it all, now. He started as a Latin macho top, but I've converted
him." Sean said.  "He's open to new experiences too."  We finished our
conversation and shower and returned to the tent.

I ate some bread and cheese and we started the tour. The big pyramid was
totally covered in vegetation and looked like a miniature volcano. It was
about 100 meters high and the vague outlines of steps could be sensed,
rather than seen when you climbed your way up the side.

>From the top they had cleared a vantage point and you could see the second
pyramid perhaps 300 meters away. We went down and moved onto the quadrangle
of buildings to the side. The complex sat on a broad, low platform, raised
2 meters above the ground on high side and 4 to 5 meters on the low
side. The workmen who accompanied us hacked away at the vines and I saw a
white stone. We went over to it and found it was a carved glyph with a
Mayan date on it.

It was lunch time so we stopped and sat and I cleared a small area beside
the stone and found two more carved rocks.  Carlo looked downright excited.

"Those aren't local stones. They are imported from the Uxmal area nearer
the coast." He said.  We did some more digging. I realized that we were at
the base of a hieroglyph-covered stone wall that had turned over, but
seemed to be intact. If we were lucky, we could re erect the wall and read
the inscription. After further two hours of probing and clearing it
appeared that the inscription was about 30 meters long. This was the mother
load of Mayan inscriptions.

We knew it was important. We didn't realize how important until later. It
turned out to be history of the place and a complete list of the
rulers. The quadrangle of buildings on the platform was a palace for the
city's ruling family and they embellished it with their family tree.

The next month would be occupied with the wall. Roberto needed a dramatic
discovery to publicize the excavation. The wall was that discovery. We
didn't really need to restore it. The wall had simply tipped over, so every
stone was in the right place, at 90 degrees to its original position.  We
just re erected it. Sean called in hieroglyph specialists and the entire
history of the place was readable.

We were in high spirits that night when we returned to Roberto's house for
the fiesta. I got to my room and found it filled with boxes. Juan had been
busy. Poppa had arranged the boxes so I could get around, I was covered
with dirt so I went to the shower.

"What is the fiesta like? Old time Mexico?" I asked.

"Pool party!" He said. "Some of Roberto's oldest friends are here with a
few new men. Lots of food, lots of drinking, lots of sex."

Poppa had found the appropriate clothes for me. It was a see through gauze
shirt and pants with swimming trunks under. The trunks were a cod piece
with just enough string to hold it in place. I had some trouble.  It was
baggy. Poppa vanished and returned with a jock with a net pouch.

"It isn't too revealing?" I asked. I felt like a geriatric model trapped in
an International Male catalog. I wasn't in bad shape, but I wouldn't be
mistaken for one of those guys in a Nordic track commercial.  Poppa
laughed.

"The clothes are just to differentiate you from the staff. Some will be
naked from the start." Poppa said. "Don't worry about anything. You look
like a film star compared to one or two of Roberto's friends."  I had no
idea what I was getting into by this time. "Don't be late!" he said as he
directed me to the door.

I went to the pool in the central courtyard of the house and Roberto
greeted me.  Roberto was just wearing the jockstrap part of my ensemble.
He didn't mind being naked for obvious reasons.  He was a hunk.  There were
about twelve men there, greatly varied in size and shape. Roberto
introduced me, directing me to those who could speak English. They were the
local power structure, a judge, the chief of police and local
Commandante. There was also a Senator and several businessmen. The police
chief was tall, thin, muscular and hung. He had the thin mustache I
associated with 1930 era lounge lizards. The rest were like me, although
the Judge was huge, and several were a lot older than I was.

I was far more comfortable that I thought I would be. Sean and Carlo
appeared, and Juan was serving drinks. Several of Roberto's younger men
were swimming in the pool. When they got out of the pool, they were
nude. No one seemed to notice. Several other of the men I recognized as
workers form the site appeared. They were young, muscular, and nude.

I talked with the Commandante who was far more interested in Mayan
archaeology that I would have guessed. He was heavy set and about 50, more
Spanish than Mayan. He was bald with a clean-shaven baby face and a hairy
body clearly visible through the gauze shirt. He knew the value of every
antiquity in the area. I guessed that he took a percentage of the value of
stolen antiquities.

He was remarkably frank about his role. He told me that he hoped that
Roberto's scheme worked.  The pay was poor and if the area became more
prosperous, then it would be a lot easier to avoid what he called
"irregularities."  A rather rough looking man named Julio came up to us and
had a long conversation in Spanish with the Commandante. Julio wore a real
shit and shorts.

Juan refreshed our drinks. I was drinking Gin and tonics.  The Mexicans
were drinking Tequila.  Carlo and Sean stayed close to me during
dinner. The dinner was wonderful food but very different from anything I
had eaten before. I hadn't been a fan of Mexican food, but I was converted
that night. As the evening went on, the social differences between the
guests and Roberto's staff vanished.

I thought that I had been careful about the amount of gin I had drunk, but
I realized that I felt light headed. I looked over the festive scene around
the pool and hardly noticed the men in close embraces. Juan was sucking the
chief of police and two young guys were with the senator. One was sucking
him, and the other fucking him. I was talking with a local businessman
named Raul, who was tall dark and heavy. He had a goatee and had dispensed
with clothes. He was with one of the workmen from the excavation.  I felt
like a fifth wheel so I wandered back to my room to take a piss.

Pappa was there with the man named Julio who had been talking with the
Commandante.

"This is my half brother Julio." Poppa said as he introduced the man. They
were about the same height but Julio was more muscular, weathered and
clearly was far more Indian. "Julio was born on the right side of the
sheets. Father was an industrialist. My Momma was a governess brought in to
raise the other children."

"Felipe says you like older men?" Julio asked. I didn't know Poppa's real
name. "I am not much into boys. I like men too. No exploitation."

"Julio is an old-fashioned leftist." Felipe explained. "Always worried
about the downtrodden masses. Trying to save horny boys from getting their
rocks off. Is that the right phrase?" I nodded. " The fall of the Berlin
wall was a disaster for him." Julio was unbuttoning his shirt. He was
smooth but very tan, unlike his brother. He slipped out of his shorts. His
cock was thicker than Poppa's, but there was the same excess of foreskin
that left his cock head halfway up the tube of skin.

He dropped to his knees and began sucking me through the odd gauze pants I
was wearing. I got out of them pronto.  He saw my exposed cock head and
dove in.  Poppa came over and joined us.

"I hope you don't mind. I told him you were a nice guy and were agreeable."
Poppa said. "He's a nice guy as long as you don't talk politics." Julio was
alternating sucking our cocks and Poppa was holding his bother's head to
make sure we got equal time. We got on the bed and formed a clump of
sucking men. I was laying back on the bed and the two me were squabbling
over my cock.

I realized that they must have been doing this since they had been
children. I fought and bickered with my brother, but never over cock. Sean
and the Commandante came in.

"I need some quality time with Hector." Sean said. "Without the audience."

"The room isn't exactly empty." I said.

"It's better than around the pool!" Sean said with a cheerful voice. "Now
let's get on our hands and knees and play bitch in heat, Hector." Hector
obeyed. "Do you have some lube?" Poppa knew where some was stored and got
it out. Sean quickly coated his cock and it vanished in the Commandante's
ass. The Commandante squealed in mock pain.

Julio got up. He was rock hard, but the foreskin still covered his whole
cock. He lubricated himself then looked at me. I guessed I might as well
get used to the local customs. He smiled and lifted my legs to expose my
ass.

He squirted some lube on his finger and worked it into my ass. His cock
followed. I expected a quick thrust in, but Julio eased his cock into my
expectant ass. It was surprisingly gentle and exciting as he slowly worked
deeper and deeper into my hole. He was much bigger than I had thought but
he was so careful that it was exciting and sensual.

"Make love not war!" He said when he fully penetrated my ass.  My sphincter
grasped his skin, but it was so loose that his cock moved freely inside
it. It felt as if his cock was caressing my rectum. His mushroom soon found
my prostate and his movements began to linger there. His head rubbed the
increasingly tender organ.

I had let him fuck me because I was a bit drunk, but I was deep into the
experience after a few seconds. Julio seemed very relaxed, but his meat was
hard, and my cock was just as hard after his first few thrusts. I felt warm
and comfortable, and was enjoying every minute of it.

"Keep it slow Julio." Poppa said. "Slow and easy. Rub that spot again,
that's it Julio. That's a good spot. He oozes pre cum every time you rub
him there."  Poppa kept up a running commentary on Julio's technique and my
response.  Julio's technique was the opposites of Sean's pile driver
assault on the Commandante's ass.

I had been fucked before and it had been exciting and enjoyable. Julio was
sensual. He had been a complete stranger and hour before, Now his penis was
probing deep in my ass, and I was feeling closer to him than I had ever did
with my wife of twenty five years. I bucked to get his cock to rub a new
spot and Julio moaned.

"That's right!" he said. "Do whatever you want to make it feel good! It's
great for me. Squeeze me again."  That I did and I saw Julio twitch and
knew he was shooting. He continued to pump.

"Julio! You came too fast!" Poppa said. "Finish unloading and I will help
our visitor get off."  Julio continued to twitch, then he pulled out and
Poppa entered. It was good too.

"It takes a long tiome for me to shoot." he said.

"That's fine with me." I replied. We fucked our way through the night.
Poppa and Julio alternated. I fell asleep, very happy.