Expedition to Mesopotamia 15 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 or bldhrymn@aol.com
If you enjoy these stories. Please consider giving a donation to Nifty!
I told Angus about my experiences with the Turks and the Armenians. He approved of my arrangement. We wanted the Turks to remain neutral and giving them good information was helpful in achieving that goal. As we talked over the situation, I realized I had tended to think of Angus as a typical English gentleman sportsman. One tended to think of sportsmen as being brainless.
This was false front in Angus' case. He was up to the minute in international affairs and he was directly connected to the Foreign Office. He also seemed to have a close connection to Winston Churchill. Mr. Churchill was ambitious, but he had a checkered career. Angus thought he was a good man. I wasn't so sure.
We spent several days of genuine site seeing and then I had to return to the dig. Oberst Schultz re-appeared to "watch" me on the return trip. While I had flown to Alexandria, the return trip was by a combination of trains, automobile drives, a short cruise on the Mediterranean and a camel ride. It took almost ten days. I let Schultz know I had made a request to get his nephews and nieces out of Germany. He was exceedingly grateful. He said he would let me know of any Nazi agents who were checking up on me during the trip.
Schultz also introduced me to some of his former playmates. One worked at the Consulate in Damascus, and another was a teacher at a school in Tyre. Schultz was generous sexually and had friends in the German Foreign Office and in the diplomatic protective services. After the Night of the Long Knives, they were uneasy and looking for a safe haven. These men might be looking for safety in England. They were potential double agents.
German's tend to respect rank greatly, so I was a desirable man with my title. My mother's family was old and highly respected. Shultz's friends were lower level functionaries and were greatly pleased when I was polite to them. My parents raised me to be polite to everyone. German Noblemen were rarely good to underlings.
Schultz was discreet about our own relationship. He and his friends seemed to believe I was a shy academic who was lonely and sex starved. The teacher from Tyre, Gerhardt, was a handsome man who taught science at a girl's school. It was rare for a man to teach girls' classes, but when you met Gerhardt, you knew the girls' virginity was safe. I invited him to dinner at my hotel. Dinner with an English knight was a big event for him.
At first, I thought he was an ordinary social climber, but as I came to know him, I found he was a good man. He was intelligent and studious, but not well connected. There was a slight air of effeminacy about him. It was not obvious, but I knew. While he was a patriotic man who had been wounded in the Great War, I suspected he would not do well in the new Germany. In addition to teaching, he was an informal postman for communications to Germany.
Couriers would leave messages with him. He was a regular visitor to the consulate. The German's correctly assumed that local authorities checked all their mail before delivery. We went to my room after dinner to have a drink. I had become used to the informal life at the camp and I took off my dinner jacket. This excited Gerhardt and he told me he had been a Naturist in Germany in the early 20s.
I told him I had no problem with Naturist. "It is so infernally hot here I am always ready to strip," I said as I began to unbutton my shirt. He politely asked if he could join me. I undid my belt and he smiled. He was better looking naked that dressed. Gerhardt must have exercised and he was sexually well equipped.
"You a nudist?" he asked.
"I am from Scotland. Nudism is a dangerous sport there," I said. "You balls could freeze off in an hour or two!" He laughed. "I will say the heat of the Mid-East has greatly changed my dress habits. I must admit I associate nudity with sexual activity. I think that might be frustrating when associating with true nudists."
"That is not a problem for me," he said. "I can solve your frustration problem." I stroked my cock and he fondled my balls. Gerhardt was eager to please and please he did. He was willing to do anything, but had a special interest in sperm. He had never been with a British nobleman before and that excited him.
He was skilled and quickly got me to climax. He took every drop.
"Can you climax again?" he asked.
"It is difficult for me to have more than three or four orgasms a night," I replied. He looked at me with open admiration. I let him know I needed a brief rest and we talked. Gerhardt was a monarchist, and gay. That would be a problem if he returned to Germany and someone found out. Strangely, he loved King George V. He was the last of the real kings who ruled at the beginning of the century. If we could turn back the clock to 1910, Gerhardt would have been a happy man.
He had an odd worldview that was probably correct. Since Britain had won the War, obviously a constitutional monarchy was the best government. Thus his admiration for King George. He was not partial to the Price of Wales. He moved in circles who knew about the Prince's weaknesses. He did not think the Prince should associate with some of the Nazi trash. Gerhardt pinned his hopes on Princess Elizabeth. She was just a little girl, but Gerhardt took a long view.
It was a restful night since I just relaxed and fed Gerhardt the fruits of my orgasms. I climaxed three times and made him a happy man. The next day I made an obligatory visit to the British consular office. I met with an intelligence officer and told him about Gerhardt. He was a mail drop and I thought he could be turned to serve the King.
The rest of the trip was tedious and exhausting. I entered into a most welcome sexual drought. I had some fun with Schultz, but little else. It was good to break with the pattern of nonstop sex. I needed a rest. When we came to the final leg of the journey across the desert on camels, Osman had a caravan we could join. It was a large and heavily armed caravan, so we avoided the perils of crossing the desert.
As soon as I arrived at our camp, I could sense a different atmosphere. Berlin seemed to have noticed the high death rate of their agents. Luckily, the Nazi's were prone to kill off other Nazis. The SS and SA mutual extermination society could have explained some of the deaths. There was another aspect of the deaths that worked to my advantage. In talking with the Otto, I found out that they were sure the problem was a plot by the British Authorities. To the Nazis, Arabs were racially insignificant and would not have dared to attack members of the master race.
I should have been suspect, but they thought I was an effete scholar with an obsession with cuneiform tablets. Nazis were into power and violence. They did not admire intellectual skills. The say that Hitler himself was interested in art and cultural things, including archaeology. The Italian dictator was obsessed with it. I did not know if Hitler's interests were genuine or if he was trying to outdo Mussolini. The Italian had noted archaeologist on his payroll.
Our search for a nonexistent Aryan ancestry had no academic validity. Otto was involved solely because of the money. I wondered how long Otto would survive in the German academic world. I suspected the Nazis would destroy a century of academic achievement. There was no need for a man of Otto's distinction in the new Germany. They wanted true believers, not intellectuals with distinguished academic careers.
My return to Mesopotamia was brief. I had been back a month when I received urgent telegram. It said my mother was ill and wanted me home. Angus had arranged for an air flight home. This news came with other news that the King's health was failing. I was back in Scotland two days later. The speed of air travel was nothing less than miraculous. My mother was ill, but not seriously.
Angus had word from a German Military Attaché, that the Gestapo was convinced I was a spy, and they planned my assassination. The other reason for my return was the looming reality that the Prince of Wales would soon be king. I had seen him with the Germans. There were some in England who refused to believe the Prince's Nazi sympathies. They needed a firsthand account from a person who had no ax to grind.
Prince Albert, the Duke of York was next in line for the throne, but he was entirely devoid of the Shakespearian lust for the crown. Princess Elizabeth was a young girl. I seemed to me that the only way the Prince of Wales could be replaced would be due to the actions of the Prince of Wales himself. That is what eventually happened. The Prince's pig-headedness caused his downfall.
I had returned from the Middle East with hundreds of photographs of cuneiform texts. I had several years of translation ahead of me. Otto sent me many additional texts. He also sent me letters written in cuneiform that told me of the deteriorating situation at the camp. The discovery of the fantasy Aryan heartland was taking too much time, so the site had be salted with Nazi inspired artifacts. Otto said these were comically inept, but he played the game. No real archaeologist would believe the artifacts were real.
The next two years felt to me like the odd calm that sometimes precedes a major thunderstorm. I hoped that somehow the storm would turn away and spare us. It did not.
My father died and my brother, Angus, inherited his title. His new title made him more visible, but also was useful in some foreign capitals. A titled English man was always welcome as an ornament to a party or a dinner. Mother's refugee operation was going well. She had a minor reconciliation with some members of her family. They had friends who needed to leave Germany and my mother was helpful.
My mother had always seemed ordinary and rather bland, but she was intelligent and perceptive. Mother had a good understanding of German bureaucrats. She had a knack of wording requests is just the right way to flatter an official's ego and get her way. Being partially crippled made her seem entirely harmless. She connected with some Canadians and Australians who shared her principles. Going to England suggested treason, but an academic appointment in Toronto or Melbourne seemed quite harmless.
She did indeed save Oberst Schultz's family and she discovered a way to save more children. The great depression had left many private schools in dire financial straits. She made grants to them so they could stay afloat if they would accommodate German children. She found other wealthy friends who did the same.
After the war when the full extent of Nazi extermination camps became clear, this effort seemed sadly inadequate. There were not inadequate to those who were saved or to their families.
In late spring of 1937, I received a letter from Otto that he was mounting an expedition to Southern Egypt. Someone in the Nazi power structure wanted to prove that Nefertiti was an Aryan progenitor. The man who had fingered me as a spy had fallen from grace and been executed. His suspicions about English spies had come too close to the Nazi power structure and he had accused the wrong person. I was safe.
King George V died in January 1937 and Edward VII was king. The Germans were trying to present a friendly face to the new ruler and a joint, Anglo-German expedition was a nice gesture. I assumed the real reason was related to German effort to gain control of the Suez Canal.
This expedition was to take place between October 1937 and May 1938, when the heat was bearable. I agreed to join them and I brushed up on my hieroglyphs. I met them in Alexandria. Even though Angus told me I was safe, I decided a British Steamship was a better choice for transportation. I met the other members of the expedition at the Hotel Majestic in Alexandria.
I thought that Otto and Rolf were the only men from the earlier expedition to Mesopotamia in the new effort. Albert was there too. The Valet had made a name for himself a loyal and effective flunky. He was a survivor. Otto looked tired and worn. He was in disfavor with the Nazi's, but he was acceptable to British officials in Egypt. He had his grandson with him, Walter. Rolf was healthy and energetic.
The real leader of the expedition was Professor Ernst Blacker. He was not distinguished, but he had risen due to the dismissal of Jewish and politically liberal professors. He admired Otto, and was differential to him. He had studied from textbook written by Otto.
Joining us was an Italian archaeologist, Arturo Cassini and his assistant Guido Rosario. Arturo had been working in Ethiopia looking for relics of the Queen of Sheba. Guido was the excavator and Arturo was the intellectual heavyweight. I was shocked to find that the theory we were investigating was that the Queen of Sheba was Nefertiti's mother. This was pure schoolboy fantasy. That an Ethiopian Queen was a Nordic progenitor as well as the mother of an Egyptian Queen was a stretch, even for gullible Nazis.
Guido rolled his eyes when Arturo explained the possible connection. The connection excited Goering and he financed the expedition generously. That generosity impressed Professor Blacker too. Our expedition was exceptionally well provisioned and equipped. Albert made sure of that.
There were two Nazi agents in the group, Henrik Gruen, and Wotan Schmidt. They were poorly educated and ineffectual men. I assumed the more competent men were in Berlin planning the war. These men were the dregs. I also wondered if the expedition real purpose was to draw British attention away from real agents. Perhaps we were a decoy. I have to admit incompetents are preferable to some of the psychotics I met in Mesopotamia.
From Alexandria, we went to Cairo, and there we boarded a small steamer, The Cheops, for the trip up the Nile. The ship was well built and new, but small. There was another group of American tourists on the trip as far as Aswan. They took several of the private cabins. We were quite crowded as a result.
I was in a cabin with Rolf, Guido and Walter. Rolf was an old playmate. He seemed to be a good friend with Guido, and that was a good sign. I caught Guido looking at my crotch several times. Walter was a 22-year-old student. He had a serious limp due to a childhood accident. That kept him out of the Army. Walter was interested in Celtic and Bronze Age cultures in Northern Europe. He was on the expedition as a favor to Otto.
The cabin was at the stern of the ship and while it was narrow, it had a porthole on each side of the streamer giving us some ventilation. It backed up to the crew's shower room and we had our own toilet and shower.
Walter seemed to be uncomfortable sharing a room with three older men. That changed when he saw Rolf emerge from the shower naked. Rolf was casual about nudity, and Walter obviously liked that. When Guido joined us, we discovered he was equally casual.
I let Walter take the lower berth because of his leg. After we went to bed, Ralph and Guido connected orally. I suspected that Walter just pretended to sleep. The trip of the Nile was leisurely. I had nothing to do until they found some inscriptions. Walter had nothing to do at all. Otto came to me and asked if I could help him with his English. Of course, I agreed.
His English was adequate but not fluent or idiomatic. As is often the case, German Schools taught foreign as rote memorization and drills. Walter was a good student and eager to learn. I asked him to tell me about his school. We talked conversationally for an hour and after about a half-hour, he began to copy my conversational pace. He had an ear for languages, and he noticed my inflections and tone.
His Uncle and I were the only English speakers on the expedition. I could also speak some Italian. Romance languages were easy for me since Latin was my first ancient language. This gave Walter a chance to have private conversations with me.
He asked me about Rolf and Guido. "I know Rolf well. He is a good man and most experienced," I said. "He is an exceptionally good field man. I do not know Guido, but if Rolf likes him, he is a good man. Rolf is a good judge of character."
Walter leaned close to me and whispered, "They seem to be affectionate."
I smiled. "I rather doubt they are affectionate. They seemed to be playful last night. Men sometimes let off some steam," I said. "We are an all-male expedition. That happens. Were you offended?"
Walter looked at me for a few seconds. "I was surprised. I didn't expect that," he said. Walter paused. "Would you think badly of me if I said it excited me?"
"Not at all, I would think you are a normal man," I said. "That sort of thing excites me too."
"How excited do you get?" he whispered.
"Rolf and I have played together the way he played with Guido," I said. "I enjoyed it very much. Would you like to join their games?"
"What if Uncle Otto found out?" he asked.
"You are 22 years old. You are an adult," I said. "I wouldn't worry about Uncle Otto."
Later that day I sat next to Professor Blacker on the top deck of the ship. "I have never been to Egypt before," he observed. "It seems very hot, but apparently it is cool compared to the summer."
"I am a Scot and the heat was a new sensation for me," I said.
"Is it necessary to remain properly dressed at all times?" he asked. "At the University that is important." Blacker was a short and beefy man. He was not built for heat.
"I think the dress code depends on the leader of the expedition. If he were to dress informally, others would follow his lead. I suspect that no one would complain," I said. I smiled at him. "I know that no one would complain!"
The night Professor Blacker appeared at dinner wearing an open shirt and no coat or tie. I could feel the sense of relief as the men adapted to the new dress code. In my cabin, we stripped to under shorts and played cards under the only fan in the cabin. We all took a shower before bed. Rolf returned naked.
Walter was next in line. He also returned to the cabin nude. One leg was shorter than the other was. That resulted in his limp and his clothes that did not fit well. He tended to lean to the left. When he was naked, you could see that he was a muscular and well-built man. He had the beginnings of a hairy chest and attractive, well-formed genitals.
Guido and I showered last. I had not seen him naked and both he and I appreciated a chance to look at the other. When we returned to the cabin Walter and Rolf were talking and enjoying each other's company. The conversation was about archaeology, but both men were a little beyond half-staff. They had clearly exchanged the secret handshake. Guido noticed them and joined them in a semi erect state.
"I have been telling Walter about excavations. He knows very little, but I have a feeling he will be a fast learner," Rolf said. "I told him I will teach him all I know."
"I would be glad to help you with that," Guido added.
"He is a virgin with respect to excavations. I wouldn't want to rush things," Rolf said. "I am a gentle teacher."
"I like the slow and easy approach too," Guido said. "With a German, Scott and an Italian, he can learn all of our techniques." Guido was fully erect by now.
"You are all big men," Walter said.
Rolf was looking at Walter's crotch. "One part of you is fully adult!" he said with a big smile on his face. It was getting late and we turned off the light. Walter's excavation training started that night. I updated my skills with Guido.