Expedition to Mesopotamia, 1934 3
By Bald Hairy Man
Email, bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com. This is an adult story for adults. It is not intended for minors, nor for persons who are offended by alternate life styles. This is 100% fantasy, so no effort at safe sex is suggested.
The rest of the voyage was uneventful. With the boiler repaired, the Captain was more evident and his intense dislike of Donnat kept the Nazi in his cabin and away from the Captain's disapproving eye. The German respect for authority played its role. Captain was firmly in control and unwilling to accept any slight.
Wolf was a member of the fraternity and while our cabin was crowded, we enjoyed each other. He tended to enjoy slight, elegant East Indians, but certainly had no problem with Rolf, me, or the first Mate's friends. The First Mate came to me in the afternoon and said the Captain wanted to meet with me after dinner at 10:00. "He would prefer that no one know," he added.
I came to his cabin and the door opened without me knocking. "Sir William, it is so good that you have come," he said. "Be seated and have a drink. Is Dutch beer to your liking?" I of course said yes.
"I normally meet all the passengers on the ship, but the problems with the boiler much preoccupied we. I have noticed a resemblance between you and a Scottish officer I met during the war, Angus MacDougal of the Black Watch? Are you perhaps related?"
"He is my brother," I replied.
"As you know Holland's neutrality was a problem for England. I assume you know there was no love lost between the Queen and the Kaiser, but our small size made any role other than neutrality impossible. Your brother negotiated with individual captains about free passage through the blockade. I had to give him my assurance we would not carry goods for Germany. I asked to be allowed to bring food to be distributed by the Red Cross. My mother is Flemish and her family was all but wiped out when Belgium fell. That food saved what remain of the family from starvation. Officially, food was not allowed, but your brother is of a liberal nature. We reached an agreement."
"Was the arrangement satisfactory?"
"It was entirely satisfactory. His handshake was as good as his word and the Royal Navy left us unmolested," Van der Zee said. "My First Mate, Gert, tells me you are like your brother in many ways. You obviously do not belong with this group of men, but then I remembered your brother's employer."
He was referring to my brother's role in military intelligence. "You are entirely wrong about that," I protested.
"Of course I am; it was foolish to even think it," he said hurriedly. He handed me a coin. "If you run into trouble, show this to any Dutch consul or to any agent of Shell Oil and they will help."
"It's just a 20 guilder coin," I said.
"Not exactly, those who know what it is will recognize it," he said. He looked at me, and then at my crotch. "As I recall, Angus had a bad limp from his wounds, but the rest of him was in fine working order."
"All of me is in working order, but Angus is a race horse; I am a bit more like a pony," I said.
Captain Van der Zee laughed. "Gert told me about you. He said you are definitely more horse like in one part of you. Forgive me if I'm overly direct. Sex with your brother was a good experience for me. I would like to feel that way again."
Of course, I agreed. A few minutes later, we were naked on his bed sucking each other. He was a handsome man, very masculine, enthusiastic and responsive. It was hard to believe the austere and cold Captain, was the same man whose cock drooled precum in a steady stream. A few minutes later, my cock was deep in his ass and he was gasping for breath. He loved it. I think we explored every possible way a cock could fit in another man's ass.
I was shocked at his passionate nature. As soon as he was nude, he was excited. As soon as my cock touched his hole, he was my sex toy. He loved it and I felt his pleasure.
"Would you let me fuck you?" he asked during a lull in the action.
"Did you fuck my brother?"
"No, I didn't get close to doing that," he replied. "I have dreamed about doing it many times since." That wasn't a problem. Van der Zee easily mounted me. His cock as average, but his balls were huge and hung low. He shot off almost immediately. The Captain ejaculated with tremendous force. I felt each spurt and the warm product of his balls filled my ass. He almost fell asleep immediately after, so I got dressed and went to my cabin. On the way back, I ran into Rolf and the first Mate going to Otto's stateroom. I joined them. That turned out to be for the best.
Otto was class conscious, and when I sucked on Gert's cock, he felt better sucking Rolf. He felt even better when Gert's cock slid into my ass. The Captain's cum made that easy for me and watching a common sailor fuck and English knight made it easier for him to accommodate Rolf' meat without losing face. Gert was gentle as all ways so I moaned as he worked his magic. The interlude was good for all of us.
After a round of orgasms and a general exchange of semen, Rolf and Gert left. I was the last to leave. "I have never done that before," Otto said.
"Fucked?"
"No, I have never fucked with an audience," he said. "It wasn't what I expected."
"We are all men, we all like the same things," I observed. "We are all part of the same brotherhood."
"Brotherhood, that is the word I was looking for," Otto explained. "That is what I felt, brotherhood. Did that man shoot in you?" he asked. I nodded.
"It must be very slippery in your ass?" he whispered. I saw he was still erect even after his orgasm of a few minutes earlier.
"Would you like to feel what it's like?" I asked.
"Oh yes," he whispered. I got on my back and put my legs on his shoulders. A second later, he was in.
"I have a confession to make," I said. "Gert shot a good load, but I think Captain Van der Zee shot bigger one a half-hour ago." I felt an explosion of hot sperm in my ass. Otto popped. He left his cock in my hole and my sphincter squeezed the remains of his orgasm.
"You are milking me?" he asked.
"Yes, is that a problem?"
"It is quite the opposite of a problem," he replied. "I have never been this naked before. Sex was always quick and energetic. I have never exposed my feeling other than of lust. I feel embarrassed and exposed."
"That is the professor speaking. What does Otto the man feel?"
"The man feels good, very good."
"And what do Otto's cock and ass hole think?" I asked. I squeezed his cock tightly with my sphincter.
"My cock is happy as can be. My ass is a little sore. My prostate is in heaven," he replied.
Perhaps you should let your genitals do some thinking for you," I suggested.
"Perhaps you are right," Otto said. He laughed and pulled slowly from my ass.
We reached Basra but immediately boarded a train to northern Iraq. Our site was south of Mosul. A German team excavated the sire in 1912-13. I read the report and the site seemed impressive. The actual site was much less so. The report was orderly and scholarly, a model of precise academic writing. The actual site was a mess. Looters could have done a better job of excavating it.
Several deep trenches bisected the site and there was no indication of orderly exploration. We reoccupied the old camp and Rolf went looking for workmen. The explorers went off to look for more sites. I assumed they were actually looking for oil.
Our camp headquarters was a mud brick one-story building. With a central courtyard, it had a semi-fortified look with a heavy wooden gate. The east side was the dining room and kitchen, south side bedrooms and a bath. To the north were workrooms and the west side was storage rooms.
While the building was crude, it had a good well. It was an artesian well thus we had water pressure. A water tank on the roof sat in the sun all day. The tank sat above the shower room, thus we had hot water. The shower had room for six or twelve men depending if you shared a showerhead. I had never been a gang shower before, and frankly, the idea excited me. Unlike the rest of the Spartan camp facilities, colored tiles embellished the room and there was continuous stone bench on the perimeter. The room opened to the courtyard providing light in the daytime; there was no door. At night, a single oil lamp in the shower gave it a mysterious and almost romantic air. On the ship, some men were reclusive and shy. That wasn't possible in the camp shower.
Normally you schedule expeditions during the cooler seasons only and avoided the summer and winter. Our was for an entire year and we arrived in Mesopotamia as the weather turned hot. The shower turned into our lounge. When it was 120 outside, you could sit on the benches and douse yourself with water to cool off. At first, the leadership of the expedition avoided long stays in the shower. They thought being seen naked diminished their leadership image. The shower was so comfortable they soon realized the advantages of the room.
At dusk, we closed the gate and barred it. The dress code in the building became informal. The naturist men in the group went naked; I wore undershorts and nothing else. After dinner, many of us went to the shower, doused ourselves with water and chatted in the dimly illuminated shower. For the first several days, there was no sexual activity, but given the sexual drives of the men and especially Berman's insatiable desire for sex, soon men moved to the dark rear corners of the room and enjoyed themselves.
After a week and a half, no one bothered going to a dark corner. There were no secrets here. Because of the regular showering the asshole became and more evident as a sex organ. There was no shyness about exposing for view or use. Given the vile temperatures of the desert, sex in the shower made life more tolerable. Good man sex can be messy with cocks dripping and spurting and asses oozing with cock juices. The shower was the perfect place to drip, spurt and then shower. The water then washed all the evidence away. I have a taste for man seed so I didn't mind walking on a slippery sperm pool on the floor. Other men appreciated the cleansing effects of the shower.
Many of the finds of the earlier expedition were in the storage rooms. They were to have been sent back to Berlin, but the war intervened and they were still here. I found the collection of tablets and was deeply disappointed.
The expedition report said this site was Ashurbanipal's summer residence, but that was due to a miss translation. The actual tablet said the king passed through the city, not resided in the city. The tablet used the word king, not king of kings, and did not identify the king in question. It could have been Ashurbanipal, Nebuchadnezzar, or Old King Cole. There was nothing to identify the particular king.
After my first exploration in the storage rooms, I returned to my bed and re read the report. I hadn't noticed the author used the words interpolate, assume and probably with great regularity. It was a masterpiece of deductive reasoning unsupported by facts. The author assumed there was an older city below the ruins, but had no real evidence this was true.
Guttman and Schmidt here happy as could be with the site. Otto, Rolf and I were not. It seemed to me the expedition was an excuse to look for oil or perhaps to check the defenses of the area.
Rolf went off to negotiate for laborers with the local Sheik. I went with him because of my title. Rolf felt an English Knight gave him more prestige. I had visions of an Arabian Nights palace. It was a mud brick house, but had more elaborate tile work than the camp, and its courtyard was lushly planted. Sheik Ali was very much more a tribal or clan chieftain than a potentate. Rolf knew how to deal with him. After long and leisurely conversations, followed by an exchange of gifts and cash, we got a crew. Two of the Sheik's sons, Hamid and Abdullah, would lead a work crew and provide protection. The collapse of the Ottoman Empire and the new British protectors left this area unsettled. Protection was needed.
The actual work started with a near tragedy. While clearing away some of the debris from the earlier expedition, the walls of one of the trenches collapsed trapping Hamid under rubble. Rolf was very much a man of action. He and I were first on the scene and began to dig him out. I was pulling off stones and digging through sand with my bare hands. Luckily, I found him. He had only minor injuries, but he would have suffocated had he been buried longer.
It was simple good luck that I found him. To the Arabs there is no such thing as luck. It was destiny. Saving the favorite son of a sheik is a good thing. Otto, Wolf and even Bergman joined in the rescue effort. Europeans were much more likely to send a servant to help with the rescue than participate, so our efforts were noted. Our relations with the Sheik and his clan greatly improved.
Rolf was good with them men. He was demanding but reasonable. We paid well and fairly. We also allowed the Arabs to use the shower. Donnat and his flunkies were worried about racial pollution with the Arabs, some of whom they thought were Jewish looking. They firmly opposed letting the Arabs use the shower. Precisely how seeing a naked Arab would pollute you was unclear to me. Fortunately, Donnat and his creatures went on long trips into the countryside often lasting a week or two. Otto did not intend to obey the rules set by an inferior intellect such as Donnat.
Rolf had the most direct contact with the Arabs on a daily basis. He used the shower as a reward for good work. He also was very manly and well hung. He joined them in the shower and lost no authority. They were impressed.
I had an academic knowledge of Arabic, since my main area of study was Semitic languages. I could read Hebrew, Aramaic, Latin, Greek and Egyptian as well as several of the ancient languages of the region. I was able to convert my academic knowledge of Arabic to a speaking knowledge quickly. Otto had some knowledge and we could converse with the laborers and the Sheik. I went with Rolf every morning to give them men their daily tasks. My Arabic was much better than his was and I could translate the more complicated instructions. I came to know all the men. If they had a problem, they came to me.
Albert had some medical knowledge. He was a battlefield medic during the war, and his skills were well in advance of the locals. While he was a poor supply officer, he was a good, indeed exceptional, medic. That was a more useful skill than a glorified clerk. I took over many of his supply duties. While officially I was the translator, I soon became an indispensible man. I was always willing to step in when help was needed.
Like a good servant, I vanished into the background. The "adventurers" forgot I was there and their conversations were increasingly indiscrete. Oil, natural resources and invasion routes were their interest. They assumed Turkey would join them in the next war as they did in the Great War. They would be able to use Turkey as a base to capture the oil fields in Mesopotamia and Persia.
In our dealings with the Sheik, we never saw any women. They were sequestered elsewhere. The Sheik had access to them but most of the men did not. Women seemed to be reserved for powerful men. Of course, there were no women at all at the camp. That would have shocked the Arabs' sensitivities.
Albert discovered something entirely unexpected about our local friends. He was willing to accept payment for his services in sperm delivered directly into his ass. Somehow, he communicated this willingness to his patients. This developed into a mutually enjoyable and beneficial relationship.
Otto was a naturally curious man with deep interests in other cultures. He felt many aspects of ancient cultures remained in the folk memory of modern tribes. Some ancient customs can survive millenniums. He discovered Albert's unorthodox payment arrangements with the laborers. Otto suspected this related to a more ancient customs.
"It isn't that Albert discovered this payment scheme, but that they accepted it so easily," Otto said. "In Germany, he would be arrested or attacked. Here it is accepted without question."
"According to Albert, there are no questions and considerable enthusiasm. Did you know they aren't circumcised?"
"Really? How odd," Otto remarked. "Most Muslim men are cut."
"Albert told me several men have come to him with a friend. Several had shot off in their mate's foreskin, and tied it off. They untied it so Albert could lick up the payment from the foreskin," I said.
"How did Albert like that?"
"Albert is a very accommodating man," I replied. "Other men have sent brothers or their fathers to make payment if they can't. More than a few have offered their ass for payment. The more major the medical problem, the more likely it is that Albert will get in their ass."
"You think there is a fixed rate of exchange?"
"I hadn't thought of it that way, but it is possible," I said. "This is a poor area, man seed might be a way to make payment."
I spent much of my time translating the tablets discovered in the previous expedition. Many of them were business accounts, but a portion was official documents and a few were religious documents, prayers and poetry. I also found a mud covered stone slab. It sat under a hundred clay tablets; it wasn't evident when I first entered the room. The report mentioned the stone slab as a lintel for a door. They discovered it late in the expedition and hadn't looked at it in detail. I looked at it briefly and had laborers move it out of the way. One of the laborers slipped and dropped it. It broke into two pieces.
The break was unusual. The front and the back broke in half, forming two panels the same length and height as the original, but half the width. They were exactly half the original. When we lifted the front panel, we found the interior was entirely covered in cuneiform inscriptions and incised line drawings. The backside of the rear panel was similarly embellished. The two panels were folded like a book and the joint was cemented together by two thousand years of clay. It was in perfect condition.
Each panel had a central image. One was of rounded mountains. I took these as volcanoes, erupting with lava and smoke. At first, I thought the eruption was feathers, but the inscription talked about the creator god shooting his life giving essence into the air. The foreground was desert and rocks.
The second panel was of the god himself. He was a tall, muscular man astride two mountains. He head was in the volcano in full eruption. He was nude except for a floral codpiece. He faced forward. His mouth was open and his tongue stuck out. Twelve nude men surrounded the god forming a ring. Sumerian priests were ritually nude, so these were obviously worshiping the god. Each held a goblet with an offering. All were erect. Flowers, grass and animals covered the rest of the image. This was in obvious contrast to the desert on the first stone.
Getting 2500 years of dirt out of the delicate incised lines of the drawing was difficult. Eventually fine lines appeared. I was surprised to find the men were all urinating. At first, I thought they were watering the fields, but then remembered the cultures in this area watered the fields with an irrigation system from the Tigris River. I wondered if the stones referred to a pre irrigation era. Rolf came to my work area and looked at the newly cleaned stones. I explained my interpretation.
He looked at me with pity in his eyes. "Wilhelm, that isn't a shower of piss, it's a shower of sperm!" The second he said it, I knew he was right. To the creator of the stones, Lava was the sperm of the creator god. His orgasms created the world. Men offered him their sperm to emulate the god's creative act and perhaps refresh the god's sperm supply.
When I looked more closely at the images, I saw the top of the non-erupting volcanoes had a slash. They saw the volcanoes as the god's cock head complete with the piss slit. The god's image formed a phallus with the rounded mountains his balls. The floral codpiece was an explosion of divine seed. When I deciphered the inscriptions, they referred to the got a double endowed. He had a human cock his entire body functioned as a cock. The god's oddly shaped head was the flared shape of a cock head. He shot sperm for the head and the cock. This may have been a forerunner of Athena being born form the head of Zeus. The god opened his mouth to receive the offerings of his worshippers.
After a long day of working on the tablets inscriptions, Hamid and Abdullah delivered several newly discovered tablets. They saw the stone slabs.
"It is the Creation Festival," Abdullah said.
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"We have the festival four times a year. It insures we have food," Hamid explained. "We give man seed to the earth. It makes plants grow and goats multiply. It is good." It was the end of the day so we went to the showers. They normally showered with Rolf, and I was new to them, at least new to them nude. They did not hide their interest in my genitals. They were both tall, dark and handsome, hairy and bearded. Hamid was a little taller than his brother. Both possessed long, snake like cocks.
"Would you like our seed?" Abdulla asked. I said yes. Abdulla fed me his cock as Hamid mounted me from the rear. It was casual and without drama. I realized man sex was a regular part of their lives. Hamid spread my legs so my ass was defenseless and his could work his anal probe deeper into my ass. Rolf entered with several more Arab laborers. They took no notice of us.
I began to shoot off. As if to be polite, both Hamid and Abdullah climaxed together as I ejaculated. I had never sucked and been fucked at the same time. I was winded. Otto appeared as I licked the last drops from Abdullah's cock with my mouth and Hamid withdrew from my ass. We talked as Abdullah sucked him. I gave Otto the details of my most recent translation of the slab's inscriptions. I also told him about Hamid's comments on the Creation Festival.