Date: Sun, 20 Mar 2011 02:14:19 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Expedition to Mesopotamia 11

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.