Excavating Gustem Hall
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 or bldhrymn@aol.com
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Gustem Hall was a little-known estate north of London. It was the seat of Keeper family. That family was noted for its antiquity, eccentricity and its difficulty in producing male heirs. This problem was related to an ancient commitment to marrying first cousins. The purity of the male line depended on avoiding intermarriage with outsiders. This enhanced certain physical features that are generally not considered to be attractive.
The last of the line, Kenneth Keeper, was the son of the upstairs maid and his father. It was said his father's wife died in childbirth. It was a suicide, not due to her husband's infidelity but due to her deranged mind.
Kenneth was normal, but gay and out. There would be no heir, and he was giving the 500-acre estate to the National Trust. The property had not been farmed or maintained for a century, so it was about as wild as you can get in England.
When the Trust archaeologists surveyed the property, they found a mound on the otherwise flat estate. They also discovered there was something in it. This was unexpected and of great interest.
I am Calvin Miller an archaeologist with a recent PhD from Penn. I was also unemployed. The National Trust was hunting for cash to undertake an excavation, and Penn produced a donor, Skippy Jones. Skippy was not to the manor born, but he invented a new fuel injection system that increased fuel efficiency by 10 to 15%. It was now used in 20% of the world's cars. He was loaded and he also had a boyhood interest in Pompei and archaeology.
The university connected to the National Trust and formed a joint excavation team. The co-leader would be my former thesis advisor Dr. MacMillan Goodhue. I was hired as his assistant and field manager. A week before we set off to England, and Goodhue had a heart attack. By the time I got off the
plane at Heathrow, I was the acting co-director.
The English leader was Dr. Henry Goodwin. When we got together it was confused, but the starting date was only two days away, so we arranged things a best we could, agreeing to re-arrange things as necessary later.
I had one skill that served me well. I am not a sensitive man. While I might be insulted or slighted, I can rise above them. That is not due to the strength of my personality. I just don't seem to notice them. I am not uncomfortable with heavy labor or getting into the dirt and mud.
I quickly realized that the English site manager, Roddy, knew his stuff. He ran a tight ship and had a plan. I made a few suggestions. He said no to all of them. The next day as we drove to the site, he had been thinking and thought several of my suggestions were good. That afternoon I met the crew. They were typical archaeological types, sincere, eager and with remarkably little fashion sense.
My mother had worked in an upscale fashion store. She knew how to make anyone look good. Luckily, she didn't have the "more to be pitied than censured" look, and she could direct her clients toward better choices. I inherited some of her skills at dealing with people and an ability to dress well on a budget.
Officially I was a co-director, but I was thirty and inexperienced; Roddy was fifty and had been the construction manager on Noah's Ark. I told the crew that this was co-sponsored excavation, but there was only one boss, Roddy. I would make any thoughts or contributions to Roddy and he would be in charge. The staff took that well and were nice enough to avoid cheers or audible sighs of relief. Later that day we met with the radar and survey staff. There was a rectangular something under the mound, and odd, leg-like things protruding from the rectangular feature. We quickly arrived at the location of the first trench.
That night I went Kenneth Keeper's residence, Gustem Hall, with the National Trust representative, George Dutton, and Professor Goodwin from Oxford. Keeper lived in one wing of the ramshackle house. A flanking wing was in poor repair, and a second wing had collapsed.
The butler, Loring, appeared to be a former professional wrestler. I was told the Keeper's were an old family, but Kenneth appeared to be a Neanderthal or Cro-Magnon though back. He attempted to be gracious and was pleasant. Loring was also the cook and his cooking was marginal. The liquid portion of the dinner, drinks, wine and after dinner drinks were plentiful and high quality.
Dutton and Goodwin had to leave early, but Kenneth wanted to show me the house. I did not want to seem rude, so I stayed. Loring joined us for additional drinks. He was Kenneth's half-brother. Kenneth's mother, the maid, had married a carpenter. That explained Loring's impressive physique.
I don't think of myself as being obviously gay, but Kenneth seemed to be more interested in me than normal. He and Loring were close. I returned room at an inn and was slightly curious about their relationship.
The dig started the next morning. The underbrush had been cleared and the mound was fully exposed.
Roddy and the crew began to work on the main trench. I was doing test pits at areas of interest with two local laborers, Hank and Georgy. They were big, unattractive, missing-link types who made some of the college student excavators uneasy.
I told them to be careful if they hit anything that sounded odd. Hank told me they did utility excavations so the were always worried about electrical or gas conduits. I joined in digging, I wasn't as good at digging as they were, and Georgy gave me some helpful hints.
We were down two feet or so when Hank's shovel hit something. Five minutes later we had exposed a white stone slab about three by two feet. It was only two or three inches thick. The guys flipped it up.
"There's writing on it," Hank said.
It was a Latin inscription in high quality lettering. I could make out the word Augustus, IMP Con. and PM. I could read Latin and had take a course in Roman inscriptions.
I screamed for Roddy. "You've got to see this!" It was part of a dedication inscription dedicated to Augustus Caesar. I knew these were rare in Britain, but I didn't know how rare.
It was a sensation. It was not in a provincial script, but the lettering was done by skilled craftsmen, probably commissioned by an emperor. It was also a previously unknown site. It explained the odd name of the estate. Gustem was obviously Augustus Temple. Somehow the memory of the temple survived 1,600 years.
I was surprised when Roddy told me to carry on. He was busy on his trench, but I assumed he would take over mine. Apparently, there was an informal finder-keepers understanding. If you made a major find, you got to complete the excavation. By the end of the day, we had more of the inscription. The final tally was four slabs, two of which were broken.
That night we had a little celebration in a pub. I ran into Kenneth, Hank and Georgy in the men's room. It was a trough type fixture. I glanced to the side and saw that the other men were doing a lot more than glancing.
"You have a nice one," Kenneth said. "The boys and I like to see new meat at the trough."
"It looks hardly used," Hank said.
"Well, it isn't overused, but it's not callused yet," I replied. The guys seemed to think that was a witticism of the highest order.
"I think the lads and I could help you with that, if you feel the need," Kenneth said.
"I'll take a raincheck on that," I said. "After a day of digging, I'm not too sure I will be able to move tomorrow." That caused more laughter.
Back in the pub, Roddy offered to assign more experienced diggers to me. I told him that Hank and Georgy had a surprisingly delicate touch and relayed their experiences with electrical conduits. He said he would give me a finds man, Mark and a photographer, Duddy. That was fine. His trench was deeper, but he had just reached a Roman Layer. He wanted to keep his diggers with him.
"You do know this is a special find?" he asked.
"I was thinking it was a dream come true," I said. It was only 9:30 but I was bushed and went to bed. I had a suspicion this might be the find of my life.
The next day was bright, sunny and warm. The English crew thought it was too hot. I had done field work in South Carolina. It was the perfect temperature for me. Mark, the finds man was cleaning the inscriptions for moving. Duddy was doing photographs. He was able to shift the slabs to get shadows of the letters. It was clear to me the entire inscription was intact.
It appeared the slabs had been buried in a trench. It wasn't clear if it had been done on purpose or was just a general pit for trash. We extended our trench. Around 11:00 Hank shovel hit stone again. I got in the hole with a trowel, as Hank and Georgie enlarged the trench.
I found a marble leaf. As I cleaned away the dirt, the leaf was on a vine encircling a dome like rock. I guess it was a mark of my excitement, that I didn't immediately recognize it was a laurel leaf crown on top of a head. By one in the afternoon it was clearly the head of the Emperor Augustus. It was slightly over life size and in superb condition. Hank found a hand and part of the arm. It was possible that the entire statue was preserved.
This was a major discovery. It now necessitated around the clock security. Dutton and Goodwin were the official and public face of the expedition and made a public announcement. They mentioned me. I suspected my role in the work would have not been normally publicized, but Skippy Jones had financed the expedition in association with Penn. It is poor policy to snub an Ivy League University.
Skippy had flown over. This was just to see the work not to get publicity. High efficiency fuel injectors sell themselves. Skippy was enthusiastic, knowledgeable and a bit down home. He was a huge hit on British TV.
Kenneth suggested the Hank, Georgie and I stay at Gustem Hall. That would keep us away from the media. That was good since we were on a roll, and the media was just a distraction. At Gustem Hall I soon discovered the complexity of country life
Loring was Kenneth's half-brother and he was school yard pals with Georgie and Hank. They were all on the local Rugby team and had grown to enjoy the showers and roughhousing that seemed to be associated with the sport.
I stayed in the bedroom next to Kenneth. The bedrooms were connected by a large bath. This was modern and up to date. Loring, Hank and Georgie were in the servants' wing. That was the official story. I was in Loring's usual bedroom, and the bath was the only consistently functioning bath in the house.
I went to shower, and a little later Kenneth joined me. Five minutes later Loring, Hank and Georgie joined us. I felt like a dwarf in the land of giant musclemen. Kenneth's Neanderthal like looks were enhanced by his fur coat.
All if the men were well equipped. Their genitals weren't soft, but they weren't hard either. They looked good. I was used to archaeologists. They were hikers and joggers, 90-pound weaklings or 250-pound whales. 250-pound naked musclemen were new to me. I was going to play it cool. I was badly outnumbered. My cock seemed to think it was the 4th of July and was looking for fireworks and creamy-sticky explosions.
The men appreciated my cock's friendly gesture.
"Welcome to the club," Kenneth said as he dropped to his knees and swallowed my cock. Three or four seconds later I knew he was experienced.
Loring came up behind me. I felt the thick pelt of hair on his chest. He was blond and I hadn't noticed it before. "Your handsome. Have you ever been fucked while another man my sucked you off?" he asked.
I answered no. Then I added. "Not yet." I immediately realized I needed to hone my skills at playing hard-to-get.
"Do you get turned off when a guy you barely know fucks you?" he asked.
"Apparently not," I replied. "Are all of you planning to fuck me?"
"Eventually, but there is no rush," Loring said. "We all like to have a cock tickle our asses too. We look scary, but we're a friendly group."
I soon discovered that for men who have been engaged in day's heavy physical labor, an orgasm and a sleeping pill are about the same thing. It was enthusiastic and enjoyable sex. Loring and Hank fucked me. I sucked Georgy and Kenneth we all shot off and went to bed. Kenneth took my load. I slept well. I woke the next morning when Kenneth eased his thick tool into my ass, gently massaged my prostate awake. We were all at the site by 7:00. Heavy rain was forecast for the afternoon, so we wanted a full day of work.
A television camera crew for the BBC arrived that morning. They were in time to see us raising Augustus's head. We had also put the inscription slab in the right order, and I was able to translate most of it for the host.
Roddy's trench he found the radar image of leg-like protrusions were marble classical columns with Ionic capitals. They were beautifully carved. This was Roman temple dedicated to the Emperor Augustus. It was in Roman style and not the more typical British Style. It also seemed as if it was Italian craftmanship, not British. The stone was Italian, not local.
Most excavations find pottery and other small objects. In England, mosaics are often the most impressive architectural element. We had found a full-scale Roman Temple. It was completely unknown and almost unique.
Around three the clouds thickened, and there was a violent rain and thunderstorm. We had portable tents over parts of the excavation, but work was impossible. My crew went to Gustem Hall to dry off. The long drive to the hall tended to flood.
The next morning, Kenneth and Hank came to see me in my bedroom.
"Our little recreational event last night got a bit out of hand," Kenneth said. "Were you offended or shocked?"
"I was shocked, but it felt so good, I didn't care. Sex for me has always been one-on-one," I replied. "Sucking a cock excites me. Five cocks were more exciting."
"We were a bit . . ." Kenneth paused briefly, "rough-hewn compared to you. I'm I right in assuming you are accustomed to more refined men?"
"I guess you could say my natural habitat is has been with academic types, mostly doctoral candidates," I said. "I like men. Many of the men I associate with tend to be effete and a bit delicate. Being more manly is good for me."
"You don't think Hank and Georgy are delicate?" he asked with a smile.
"Well, I don't think they have a career in the ballet," I answered. "Their bodies are ideally made to be ditch diggers. I discovered that Hank's cock was a wonder. I've never sucked a guy with as much foreskin. Once I peeled it back his knob was delicate and responsive to the slightest movement of my tongue. I felt him shooting off in my ass."
"Did that bother you?" Kenneth asked.
"I felt like I had won the lottery," I said. Kenneth laughed and we went to have breakfast. At the site, the storm caused only minimal damage and we were soon hard at work. Roddy told me we had an oversupply of experienced excavators who wanted to work on the site. They were willing to work without pay. We agreed we would shift his crew to my area, and he would put the new men and women on his trench.
I would dig new exploratory test pits in areas indicated on the radar. I worked well with Hank and Georgy and they had proven to be skilled diggers. We asked them if they knew other good men. My guys were being paid, and I thought the amount of work they did more than paid off. The called a friend, Trevor. He was willing and was at the site by noon.
We were working on an anomaly. That seemed to be the polite term for "We don't know what in hell it is." My guys knew how to move dirt and when to stop when they found something. We were 25 yards from the temple finds. Trevor was twenty or so, strong as a horse and a Rugby player. We found a five by five masonry platform. My guess was it was a base for an altar or statue.
We lowered the grade around the base to see if whatever sat on the base had been toppled over. A metal detectorist found a response. Mark, our finds man, and I carefully dug around and found a bronze disk, a little more than a foot in diameter. It turned out to be the top of a bronze vessel filled with Roman coins, lots of coins. As we took the top off, the metal detectorist had another hit. There was a second coin hoard.
Coins provide good dating evidence, but they also are of great public interest. That evening site security doubled to discourage treasure hunters.
We went back to Gustam Hall at six. Trevor was a member of the Rugby team and he joined us as did Mark. Hank had exchanged the secret handshake with Mark while taking a piss behind a bush. Hank mentioned it was more than a handshake. "There was some licking too." Sometimes overgrown shrubs can be a blessing. Somehow Loring knew to prepare extra food for the new guests. He and Kenneth seemed to posses gay seeking radar.
Mark was a rather dumpy looking man and his conversation dealt entirely with the day finds. Since Hank liked him there must have been more than meets the eye. Trevor was handsome, muscular and young. I think he was intelligent, but his mother was a housekeeper. His dad was a jack-of-all-trades. I assume that meant he had a drinking problem. He was not from a background that would lead to a university education in England.
Trevor sat with me and Kenneth at dinner. I was uneasy that it would turn into a Rugby discussion, but Trevor was interested in the excavation. We were all tired and went to bed early. Trevor spent the night with Kenneth. Mark shared my bed.
I found that while Mark was unattractive and pedantic, he was sexually obsessed and willing to serve. He had only a few sex partners who used him as a cum dump, and for gang bangs. We sucked each other off trading sperm and he fucked me. When I woke up at five, he was still sucking me. He told me I was the only good-looking guy to take his load and to open his ass for his cock. I told him his precum was a turn on and his sperm was thick, plentiful and tasty. He took that as a compliment.
He told me that he enjoyed being fucked for the first time with me. He said he almost passed out when he felt me squirting in him. Mark added that he knew he was obsessed with sex. Now he understood why.
We had breakfast and were back at the excavation by 8:00. I think we all should have been more tired than we were. Most excavations are pure drudgery with a few modestly exciting finds. Compared to most excavations, our site was Disney World and Las Vegas rolled into one.