Expedition to Mesopotamia 14 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
The steamship Cleopatra safely delivered Angus to the quay of Alexandria the next morning. Schultz went site seeing. He understood I would spend the week with my brother. Angus looked good, every inch the Scottish nobleman. He was glad to see me. We went to his hotel, the Pharaoh, and were able to talk.
All was well at home, but Angus thought my father was beginning to fail. Mother was fine and holding up well. The depression had taken a toll on the family income, but Mother's fortune was well invested and all was good. "You know Father hates to use her money to subsidize the estate, but she has no problem with that," he said. I told him about Oberts Schultz's family. Angus said he would see what could be done. My mother was in sympathy with the plight of anti-Nazis in Germany and to the dangers confronting Jews.
"While Father is declining some, mother has a new lease on life," Angus said. "She is getting more involved with helping needy Germans. She also had a knack for secrecy, and she would have made a good spy in many ways."
Angus knew all about my adventures in Mesopotamia especially my chance run in with the Prince of Wales. While Angus was a man of the world, I think he was shocked at the Prince's intimacy with the Nazis. I didn't go into any details of the intimacy, but Angus seemed to know. I don't think the sexual aspect bothered him; the political aspect troubled him.
"Most Britons seem to think the Nazis are just one of those odd political parties they have in Europe," he said. "I am not sure. I think there is something evil afoot. I hope the Prince isn't contaminated."
"You speak of it as a disease," I remarked.
"What is your impression?" he asked.
"Some are opportunists, some are thugs, and some are deluded." I said. "One or two of the Nazis are sick. They killed one of their own henchmen I think. I have noticed they have no skills at diplomacy. The Arab's despise them."
"I think their ultra German Nationalism can hide other worse sins," Angus said. "Even in Britain patriotism can be good only in modest amounts. It is a good way to rouse the rabble. I have heard the native Arabs have not taken the Nazi presence well?"
"That would be an understatement." I replied.
At dinner, we discussed the political situation. The King's health was failing. The Queen seemed sturdy enough, but the Prince of Wales was a decidedly weak reed. Angus knew the family of the Duchess of York and was favorably impressed. "I can't imagine Herr Hitler impressing her family. They are sensible and solid as a rock," he said
"How about the Duke of York?" I asked.
"Painfully shy, as far as I can tell. The Duke stutters you know. He is devoted to his wife and family. The girls are going to be quite lovely I think. The older daughter is darling. They are very domestic, the perfect English family."
"Were he to be king, it would be a disaster for him personally." I remarked.
"I am told he had all the sense of obligation and duty his older brother lacks," Angus said. "The Prince of Wales is over forty now. Wild parties and loose women are all well and good for a twenty year old, but his friends seem even more disreputable and suspect now than ten years ago." We moved on from political talk to family affairs.
The next morning Angus said a friend was coming over. A man named St. George Hammersmith came to discuss the expedition. St. George was a dealer in antiquities. He was exceptionally knowledgeable on all things Middle Eastern and Egyptian. He was a human encyclopedia in that respect.
St. George was also an agent for the Foreign office. He wasn't interested in the people in the expedition; he was interested in the techniques they used to ferment trouble. These techniques didn't seem to be particularly successful.
"It seems the Nazis are more interested in political purity and devotion to the cause than in effective foreign policy," St. George said. "If I understand Nazi officials correctly, the official reports will make no mentions of failures. The punishment for failure can be very stiff in Germany today"
"Most of the Nazi's on the expedition are dead," I said. "It doesn't get any stiffer than that!"
"I am sure the spymaster knows something is amiss," he said. "They will send someone who is an old Middle Eastern hand to see what's really up. By the way, you seem to have become the Sheik's pet. Indeed, you seem to be rather more than a pet. Harkan Singh sent me a letter. He enjoyed meeting you and your friends."
"Dr. Singh was most helpful after the attack," I said. "It was fortuitous he was at the camp at that time. He is a good man."
"We can both agree about that. He is good friend of mine," Angus added. From the way he said it, I understood my brother know of my sexual inclinations. I, of course, knew about his trips to the wild side. Angus returned the conversation to German efforts to destabilize the area. I had the impression St. George did not know about the Prince of Wales's visit. As we talked, a bellboy brought a letter addressed to me to the room. It came from a man I didn't know.
The letter invited me to dinner at the home of Osmin Selim, a Turkish merchant and friend of the Sheik. He said he was much interested in the history of the area and ancient inscriptions. It was a most polite letter complete with apologies for being so forward in asking me to dinner without proper introductions, and full of understanding if my important work would not allow me to honor his unworthy abode with a visit. He knew I was visiting my brother and he would be doubly honored of my brother would accompany me to his humble home.
Angus was eager to attend, so I accepted. We went to his humble abode at 9:00 after the heat of the day began to dissipate. As I guessed, Osmin's humble abode was a luxurious seaside villa in an unexpectedly modern style.
Turks were problematic. They might be young Turks associated with Ataturk, or disappointed members of the old Ottoman regime. They were disastrously associated with Germany in the Great War. You didn't know if they longed for the reestablishment of the old government, or were trying to avoid the pitfalls of a German alliance.
I assumed Nazi Germany wanted to ally itself with Turkey, but it seemed to me, not many Turks were convincingly Nordic in background. Turks seemed cagy to me. On reflection, I realized I would be careful if I were a Turk.
Osmin was a Paris educated businessman almost entirely European in his outlook and aggressively modern. A Frenchman must have designed his villa. A professor from the Egyptian Museum, Professor Gottlieb from the Berlin Museum and M. Desjardin from the French Institute joined us in polite conversation. They were all antiquaries and I was the star. My linguistic abilities dazzled them.
Egyptian antiquities embellished the house and I could translate many of the inscriptions. The combination of the ancient objects and the modern architecture was stunning. I was afraid Angus would be left out, but as he spoke English, French and German fluently; he was much in demand. I was use to seeing him at home, either taking care of estate business or planning a hunt. Here he was a sophisticated man of the world, effortlessly talking in three languages.
Dinner was excellent. Gottlieb seemed to have hit it off with Angus, and I talked with M. Desjardin and the Egyptian professor. I missed the Egyptian's name but they referred to him as the Doctor and I followed suit.
Desjardin struck me as the cinema's version of a French Professor, but he was indeed knowledgeable. I mentioned the fertility cult. He assumed it was one of the cults devoted to the Earth Mother. I told him it was a male oriented cult somewhat related to Gilgamesh and Enkidu. He became very interested. M. Desjardin seemed to have vast knowledge of penis and male fertility cults. Gottlieb was also interested.
After dinner, we sat on the balcony overlooking the Mediterranean, and it became clear their interest in the male organ was not only academic. We agreed to meet the next day. Gottlieb said he knew of an excellent Turkish bath I would find interesting. I didn't say I had an almost encyclopedic knowledge of Turkish baths. Angus said he would love to join us. "In Scotland anything that can be seen as warm is regarded with suspicion," he said. "A Turkish baths sounds most decadent!"
Back at the hotel, we discussed the evening. I wasn't sure why we were there. Angus thought it was to make contact with Gottlieb and Desjardin. "The real meeting is at the baths," he said.
"Why the baths?" I asked.
"Because the men are naked and can't conceal weapons," he replied. "In this modern age microphones can't survive in the heat and steam either. It is a safe place to do business without observation. I know Gottlieb wants something."
"I think he wants something too," I said. "Me."
Angus laughed. "I noticed that too!" he said. "You know he was Alsatian? He has many connections to France still. By the way Gottlieb has an interest in me too, and I don't mean my mind!"
At 10:00 the next morning, we went to the baths. The bath had only a small and unimpressive door on the street. We knocked. The Doorman opened it and after going through a narrow passage took us to a marble undressing room. We were expected and attendants helped undress. The bath's interior was palatial and elegant, more Roman or Byzantine in character than Arabic.
We went into a large domed room filled with towel-clad men, but then went through a door into a smaller domed steam room. The decoration in this room was extravagant with gold mosaics and expensive marble slabs. Here the men and the younger attendants were all nude.
Steam filled the room, but I saw Gottlieb and Osmin off to one side. Desjardin was talking with an attendant on the other. Desjardin motioned to Angus to come over. Osmin signaled to me. There were perhaps fifteen men in the misty room, but all seemed occupied with their own conversations. I did notice some of the attendants in the room were uncut, a rarity in the Islamic world, and while no one was erect, many seemed to be partially excited. No one made any effort to hide his privates.
Gottlieb and Osmin sat on a marble bench in an arched recess. I stood so they would have a good view of my genitals. They liked the view. Osmin licked his lips and his cock was firm. "I was most interested in your discussion of ancient cults," Osmin remarked. "Similar cults survive in Egypt. They are most interesting. Did you have a chance to participate in any rituals?"
From the look in his eye, I knew he had the answer to the question already. I countered with a question. "From the look of this group, I assume you have some familiarity with male sexual rituals?"
Osmin laughed. "Yes indeed," he replied. "I will confess that our group seems to place much more emphasis on the sexual and less on the rituals aspects. The ritual ends with ecstatic climaxes, and we certainly have retained that part of it." We all smiled. By now, we were all erect. I looked over to see what Angus was doing. His cock was in Desjardin's throat as Angus sucked another man. I knew Angus wasn't prone to be shy, but hadn't realized he was this open. The steam got much thicker.
As the steam thickened, I began to hear moans of pleasure. "Let us relax before we get down to business," Osmin said. Professor Gottlieb got on his knees and licked my organ. Another man joined us. I could see he was younger and Egyptian. He rubbed my ass crack with his fully lubricated cock.
Gottlieb pushed my legs apart. The Egyptian nuzzled his cock at my hole and pushed. His organ was impressively long, but thin. He cock head was no wider than the shaft. In a split second, the entire organ was in me. There wasn't even a twinge of pain. It was good. I had been mildly sexually excited. I had been uneasy about having Angus see me participating in sex acts. The Egyptian's cock drove that worry from my head. Gottlieb moaned as he sucked me. He must have tasted my cock juices as they began to flow.
In the comparatively European atmosphere of the Alexandria hotels, I had reverted to my British identity. As the long probe explored my ass, I felt like the Mesopotamian high priest again, willing and indeed driven, to receive gifts and offerings. As with the sheik and his followers, not only was I receptive, everyone seemed to know it.
The Egyptian had an orgasm, pulled out and helped me to the marble bench. I sat on Osmin's lap. The attendant held my ass cheeks open so Osmin's oversized organ made direct contact with my hole. It stretched me to the limit, but fit. Osmin's legs were tight together, the Egyptian spread my legs wide, and so I was essentially spread eagled. This left me open and defenseless.
It also left my prostate exposed to a direct hit from Osmin's cock. I went to the moon. This position left me a bit unstable, but a second attendant appeared to help the Egyptian steady me. They noted my reaction and bounced me so Osmin's bloated cock head rubbed my prostate continuously for a minute or so. I could hardly breathe.
Eventually they took mercy on me and lowered me until Osmin's organ fully skewered me. It was about the same size as the Sheiks and was just as stimulating. At first, I thought the group selected a single partner for the entire event. I eventually realized it was more of a musical chairs game. As a new visitor and guest, everyone wanted to make me feel wanted. All wanted to sample my ass. I was afraid Angus might be getting the same treatment, but Angus was a strong man. He could take care of himself.
I wasn't as strong, but could satisfy them all. Compared to the Mesopotamian festival, this was a tame and almost gentle affair. There was a brief period of animal like lust just before each man climaxed, but that I expected. Because of the dense fog like stream, I couldn't see the men who fucked me. There were many fewer men than at the equinox festival, but there I had looked each man in the eye and it remained personal. Each man wanted to make sure I knew he made his gift to the gods and that he had done it with vigor and affection.
Here it was anonymous. In some ways, it was pure sex. I tended to think about what the cock was doing rather than what the man was feeling. While I preferred the man, I had no problem with the cock either.
After the sexual interlude, attendants brought food. Osmin wanted to know what the Nazi's were doing. I gave him a direct report. I realized he was uneasy about Nazi intentions. They might want to be allied with Turkey to provide access to the middle-eastern oil fields. It was possible they would take Turkey or a portion of Turkey to insure access. A dismembered Turkey would leave a void in the region; a void Germany was willing to fill.
It seemed to me the poor quality of roads and primitive state of transport in general made an overland route for oil difficult. Shipping by way of Suez was much more viable. Osmin saw things in much the same way.
Gottlieb had other more personal problems. He was a well-respected academic in Berlin when Alsace returned to France. He chose to stay in Germany, assuming it would be difficult to become established in France.
Gottlieb now suspected he had made a poor choice. He assumed his position and reputation protected him from the Nazi's, but he was now afflicted by unworthy Nazi toads after his position. He might very well lose his post. The French academics were unlikely to welcome him after he decided to stay in Germany after 1919. Gottlieb hoped British or American Universities might welcome him. I suggested he might have better luck with the Americans. They had many more universities, and the prestige of the German Universities was greater in America.
The event ended and Angus and I returned to the hotel. We had a silent ride in a taxi. I assumed my behavior in the bath disgusted Angus. It hadn't occurred to me Angus shared the same worries.
Back at the room, I finally got up enough nerve to talk. "I didn't expect that," I said. "It isn't the way we do business in Scotland."
Angus burst out laughing. "That is an understatement. It's never warm enough to get naked," he said. "I'll chalk it up in the "Unusual Habits of Foreigners" category. I think we did well there. At least we didn't look like Sunday School girls shocked to find themselves in a brothel."
"Let me confess, I enjoyed it," I said.
Angus looked me in the eye. "You couldn't have enjoyed it as much as I did," Angus replied. "I shot off four times. They all enjoyed taking my man seed too. That doesn't happen much at home."
"They don't like it?" I asked.
"They pretend they don't like it," Angus replied. "Nigel from the rugby team has taken it after every game for three years. I found out he saves it and gargles with it later."
I laughed. "Is he a good man?"
"Yes he is. He's solid as a rock and dependable in all things. He has a wife and three kids; he just can't relax and go with the flow. I noticed you have a knack for making men feel welcome. I've never been comfortable taking it in the ass. I must have a tight hole."
"I'm embarrassed."
"Why? You enjoyed them? Did your playmates enjoy you? What is the problem?" Angus asked. "I'm going to marry Sophia MacLeer next year. She's a good egg, sweet, and very much wants to have babies. Mother loves her. I am very close to loving her. Sex is good with her, but it's great with the men on the rugby team. That's just the way things are with me."
"I seem to attract Arabs," I said.
"In case you noticed, you attract Arabs, French, Germans, Turks, English and Egyptians," Angus said. "A goodly portion of the League of Nations made a deposit in your ass this afternoon." We both laughed.
The next morning I received an invitation to lunch at a M. Kervonian's Art Gallery. Angus had other duties and I accepted the invitation. An art gallery in Alexandria can be a cart on the street or an impressive institution. M. Kervonian's establishment was near the top of the prestige scale. He dealt primarily with high quality antiquities and sold his goods only to museums or very wealthy collectors. His house was large and almost empty. A servant took me to rear of the house. "The Master is in the baths, would you like to join him?" he asked.
I seemed to attract baths. I agreed. The servant helped me undress, and then took me to the baths. The steam bath was luxurious in the extreme. Remembering Angus' conversation, I assumed this was to insure I carried no weapons and no recording devices. M. Kervonian greeted me enthusiastically. There were gorillas that were less hairy than he was. "I am Arpad," he said. "Welcome to my humble home." The room was steamy but I saw Osmin was with him.
"Let me get my business over with you right away," Arpad said after I sat next to him on a marble bench. Osmin and I are most interested in knowing what our Nazi friends have planned for our, shall we say neighborhood? Your brother is a British agent of course. You are the sole British member of a German expedition. We know Otto is a distinguished academic, but there are members of your expedition who are little more than confidence tricksters and charlatans. They have no reason to be there other than as spies."
"We do not know if you are an agent or not. We do not care. We would like you to give us insights to their objectives. We do not expect you to provide information injurious to His Majesty's Government. We would only ask that what information you could provide for us is truthful."
"Are you speaking for yourself, Mr. Kervonian, or for Osmin?"
"I am known to represent Turkish interests," Osmin said. "As an Armenian, Mr. Kervonian is obviously not pro Turkish. He can associate with you without suspicion."
"I assume Mr. Kervonian is receiving some considerations for his services?"
"Many members of his family are still in Turkey. I have insured they are safe and protected. I have also assured him that my family will continue to protect them after his or my death, should that happen. We would expect to reward you generously."
I talked with them about my observations of the Nazi part of the expedition. I told them no secret information, but they didn't need it to be secret to be useful. It confirmed German efforts to destabilize the area and encourage an uprising. I told them about the maps. I asked if the comparatively friendly relations between Turkey and Germany permitted tolerance of Turkish visas for foreign travel.
"Are you referring to visas for persons of problematic lineages?" Osmin asked. "Persons with poorly selected ancestors?"
"That might be the case," I replied.
"If we were to receive information or a request from a distinguished English noblewoman with good German connections, I can assure you such a request would not be rejected." Osmin said.
"I have many business interests and my family has interests in hotels and galleries everywhere," Arpad added. "We often have need for German language speakers. We might be able to provide employment. We have close relations with many governments. Let us say we have been helpful to many person of influence."
"I do not expect a man of your distinguished ancestry to accept this offer," Osmin said, "I ask only that you would speak frankly with some of the Turks you have already met. Should some employees of Mr. Kervonian's company, the Galleries Sumer, meet you, I hope you will be welcoming."
"If the distinguished noblewoman was to use my name in correspondence with the Turkish Embassy in London, her requests will meet with favor," Osmin added.
"There is a branch of the Galleries Sumer near Hyde Park in London. If she were to use the name Arpad G. Kervonian, the request will come to me," Arpad said. "Use the initial G. That is the code for a personal letter."
"The conversation today has been most helpful, and I feel confident any request will be looked on favorably," Osmin said.
"Now for something more enjoyable. I hope you enjoyed out interlude yesterday. Arpad shares our interests and I was hoping you might join us?" Osmin said. "I noticed you enjoyed masculine men, and I think Arpad will please you."
"I'm not sure I would please Arpad," I said.
"Just looking at you has pleased me," Arpad replied. He stood and I licked his impressive cock. The business part of the meeting was over. Osmin left the room, leaving me alone with Arpad. A few seconds later four men as big, hairy and as naked as Arpad entered.
"Osmin said you didn't mind company?" Arpad said as one of the men swallowed my cock. I was a bit uneasy. The Arabs could look fierce; these men looked demonic. It took me about five minutes to realize they were rather jolly, cheerful sex-crazed maniacs, full of fun and good will.
I later found out Osmin had told them of my preferences and they were ready to indulge them. I think they were Arpad's relatives, but I wasn't sure. Only Arpad could speak English. His friends spoke Armenian and Arabic. Their Arabic was poor and heavily accented. All five men had short fuses and an unusually short recharge time. All were capable of multiple gully-washer type orgasms.
With their massive black beards and brawny bodies, they all looked alike to me. They were large, crude, aggressive men. It was apparent their cocks were all oversized and my hole seemed inadequate. Unexpectedly, while they remained aggressive and driven, the crudity vanished when their organ penetrated my sphincter. Every cock aimed as my ass hit the bull's eye every time. No one toyed with my ass. It was full penetration and deep thrusts every time.
They enjoyed my ass, and wanted to spend as much time in it as possible. The all had spectacular orgasm, and while most occurred deep in my rectum, those I took in my mouth or spurted across my body were productive in the extreme. They admired large loads and were complimentary to the men who shot them.
Each man had multiple orgasms over an hour or so. Each orgasm was as productive as their first ones. I was coated in sperm, wallowing in sperm. It filled my mouth, ass and covered my body. Each man's cock drooled pre cum of the remains of his last orgasm. While of the Armenians was fucking me full throttle, I would lick the remains of the precious fucker's orgasm from his dripping cock. By the time I finished him off, he was erect again and ready to go.
This might sound too repetitive, but while each man was well equipped, the actual organs were varied. One man was short and very thick; another was long and thin. Several, including Arpad himself, were long and thick. The sensations were varied and pleasurable.
The men were cheerful and happy fuckers. They enjoyed it greatly and I shared their enjoyment. While my ass was the focus of attention, no one ignore my needs or my cock. Arpad liked to watch the action closely. He fed me his cock ad he sucked me. This gave him the ideal location for watching the activity. He had no problem at all taking my cream when I climaxed. He actually spurted some of his own seed in response. His organ became ultra sensitive as he ejaculated and my tongue's caresses drove him crazy. He was that excited.
After an hour, we were all exhausted. After a proper bath, I returned to the hotel, entirely relaxed and at ease.