Treasure Hunt 3
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
One of my tasks was seek out information on the Duke of Lerna and his ill-fated expedition. On rainy days, I went to the library and searched through the Greek's writings. I came to like the Greek. Unlike most of the conquistadors, he was educated and humane. He seemed to feel genuine sympathy for the Mayan population and their plight. He was shocked at the horrible toll disease took on the Indians.
He was puzzled at the outbreaks and was looked for possible reasons. The normal explanation was that it was God's judgment on heathens. As a Greek refugee, he was well aware there were many heathens who didn't suffer, even when they had much greater military success than the Christians did. Pasteur was 400 hundred years in the future, so the Greek was lost.
Unfortunately, the Greek was not interested in gold. Treasure had no allure for him. He discussed the transitory nature of wealth and fame. Again, the collapse of Constantinople may have played a role. His family had lost everything. He and his mother seemed to be the only members of his family to escape. Gold meant nothing to him compared the family he never saw again.
One of Pedro's friends, Carlo, attached himself to me as an assistant. He was also one of Padre Ernesto's friends. At first I thought he was a seminarian of some sort, but in this part of Mexico, relationships were often more fluid than that. He had sickly parents and needed to stay nearby. I think he was sort of an apprentice priest. He helped me as needed and assisted Ernesto as needed.
I didn't like the idea of a personal servant, it reeked of 19th century servitude, but Carlo was helpful. He had a deep and complete understanding of local Mayan culture, history and beliefs. When I worked on the Greek translations, he provided the background I needed to understand them. The Greek was neither modern nor ancient and many of the terms were obscure.
The Greek had used some native Mayan words, but converted them into what he thought was the Greek alternative. This was most confusing. He also used some odd euphemisms for sexual terms. He was a shy man and avoided the vulgar. Carlo was helpful with this. Many sexual terms were treated as agricultural or farming words, all associated with the fertility of the land.
Carlo said this reflected the local dialect's preferences. The cock was a seed planter, and an orgasm was a seed spring. The seed spring combined fertility and the need for water, two basic themes of Indian life. To plant seed in the warm earth meant to fuck and shoot in the ass. Warm earth was a euphemism for ass. To gather seed for planting was to suck a man to completion and swallow his semen.
Carlo understood this. Man and the earth were one, and they saw man a super plant. Like plants, they produce seed. While men ate the plants of the earth, they also replenished the earth with their seed, and with man soil.
Carlo said they knew manure served as a fertilizer. The ass, warm earth, produced manure for the cold earth, or the land. While plants produced seed once or twice a year, men produced it all year long. It was important to save seed until later. Thus the local Indians sucked up their friends' sperm and ate it, preferably straight from the spigot. The cock was a seed spring, or a deep planter. It was a seed spring for oral sex and a deep planter for anal sex.
Carlo wasn't sure, if the seedeater or the bottom actually saved the sperm for later use, or if the sperm provided a sort of super vitamin for increased fertility. There seemed to be a difference of opinion. This was sort of a Catholic versus Protestant conflict, but unlike our own conflicts, this was purely theological and did not involve violence.
They called the vagina the nursery. Sex with a woman was "filling the nursery." Most of the book discussed man on man sex, rather than man with women sex. There was a problem with nurseries that were unready, or cold. Birth was the great sacrifice.
"Women were fragile and delicate, and childbirth dangerous. It was important to make sure a woman was strong and in good health," Carlo explained. "When the Spanish came, the Virgin Mary was particularly attractive to the Mayans in this area. To revere a mother who had survived the travails of birth was natural to them.
Jesus and his twelve disciples were easily understood. A man with friends was the local term for being a good man. To drink from your friend's spring, was an expression of great affection. The Greek mentioned sacred springs, but it wasn't clear if these were geological or sexual features.
Carlo knew all about my sexual preferences. Everyone knew all about them. I assumed they were shocked, but found out they were pleased I shared their traditional values. After living with American "traditional values," I forgot some people valued friendship and intimacy. The locals regarded outsiders as cold, standoffish people. Our little group was a sexually generous exception to the rule. Samuel and Robin were much admired.
What we might regard as slutty, they saw as friendly. Europeans tended to regard sex as power, while the locals saw it as fun. While fucking a man might be an expression of dominance to us, they saw as a good way to make a friend. We were all willing to take Mayan cock and sperm. This was just being gracious and cordial to the locals.
To say we were willing understates the case. We were enthusiastic. This greatly increased our status. I later found out Pedro let other men know how much he enjoyed us. He was much more than a household servant to the Patron in the Mayan Community. He was an elder and a leader. He connected Julio, the Patron, with the Mayans.
Typically, the Patron was all but the feudal ruler of the area. He ruled to roost. In many places, he ruled for his own benefit and the locals got scraps from his table. Julio's family had built up genuine affection for their people. Some of that had to do with inter marriage. A number of locals were related. As far as I could tell, Julio liked his people, and while he understood their culture, he didn't admire their poverty. He was looking for a way to save their culture and make their lives better.
Julio's hope was that heritage tourism would enrich the area without destroying it. He wasn't interested in casinos or nightclubs. He wanted educated cultural tourists who would admire the local culture. This was a tough balancing act, but at least he was trying.
Pedro made him aware of problems. He represented the Indian point of view and Julio represented them well. El Lobo also had input, but his thinking was all European leftist and didn't always represent the Mayan approach to life.
Pedro enjoyed us sexually and he let like-minded men know about our interests. Of course, the younger men were typically sought after as sex partners by wealthy visitors. I tended to like older men, and Pedro let this be known.
Carlo wasn't interested in me sexually; his Uncle Jesus was. Americans tend to be a mass of racial hang-ups. This wasn't true here. Mayans and Spaniards had been intermarrying for centuries. There were persons who looked all Mayan and all Spaniard, but I didn't know if this was due to rare survivors of ancient stock, or due to the vagaries of genetics. Carlo appeared to be all European; his uncle had Mayan skin color, but was tall and hairy like a Spaniard.
He was about my age and came with Carlo to look at the documents I was translating. He had been a schoolteacher and the Latin documents fascinated him. These were the day-to-day records of the monks, but were not written by the Greek. An educated man, his Latin was rusty but came back quickly. Jesus was helpful and soon Carlos returned to the church to take care of his normal tasks.
Jesus had not taken to retirement well. He wanted to be doing something. He was married, but his marriage was most successful when they were apart. He taught at a private school two hundred miles away. He lived at the school and mailed his paychecks home, visiting on holidays and in the summer. That had been a prefect arrangement. He had three married daughters who lived nearby, and when he stayed home, rather than going to work, he disrupted the henhouse. "Frankly, there was no room for a rooster there," Jesus explained to me. "The house was a well oiled machine and I disrupted it. It is better when I am away."
He saw sex as a recreational activity and liked it all. Jesus wasn't a lover but he was playful and inventive. His was well endowed, but not exceptionally so. His cock fit in your mouth and ass easily. His ass was flexible and firm. Jesus made friends easily. Jesus was tall, but not particularly attractive. He wasn't ugly, but he had crooked facial features, somewhat concealed by a big beard. Hollywood would have cast him as a South American revolutionary, but he had a playful sense of humor. His willingness to engage in sexual activity provided many friends. He said he looked at the heart, not the face of a man. That may have been true, but he looked at the crotch just after the heart.
As a former teacher, he had tried to keep his sexual preferences hidden. Jesus no longer taught, but old habits die slowly. The library was secluded and in the rear of the main house. I found him with a friend one morning. He asked if I would like to join in. Against my better judgment I did. It was a wild and invigorating experience.
Jesus had good taste in men. They were affable, pleasant and wanted to please. While Jesus was full service, he did have a preference for the top. Most of his friends were workers who tended to defer to him. I am full service with a liking for the bottom. His friend, Raoul, was an older, very polite man with a beer can cock. We ended up playing a musical chairs as we rotated through the possible combinations of cock and ass.
We tried them all but it was good when I screwed Raoul while Jesus screwed me and great when I mounted Jesus as Raoul fucked me. I seemed to enjoy being in the middle, something that Jesus remembered. Raoul's thick ass-plug like cock was very good when it met my prostate. Jesus had many friends and liked to share.
I was worried that the sexual connection with the working men might be a problem. Back in the United States, I would have been considered a slut, but here I was just a good sport. Sex with men wasn't sex. It was just having some fun with your buddies. It was neither immoral nor even risqué.
My own tastes helped the situation. Many persons of European ancestry treated Indians as inferiors. They thought of them as sex toys for their enjoyment. The Mayans were pleased when they had a chance to fuck a white ass, and my taste for man seed served directly from the cock was good for them too. Some white visitors were offended and pulled away when an Indian had an orgasm. I sucked it up with considerable enjoyment. I also took it in the ass. It was an honor to offer a friend your seed. To reject the offer was an insult.
My obvious enjoyment of their attentions was also important. I loved it. I was afraid I was being a bit slutty. They felt that if they offered you their most intimate gift, their seed, the least you could do is enjoy it.
Through Jesus, I came to understand the relaxed and casual approach to life of the locals. I met Jesus' friends and they introduced me to men they thought I would like. I was also able to explain some of my friends about the local customs. Robin and Samuel were open-minded men and had no problem sharing their bodies and manly juices with the Indians.
On one Sunday afternoon, Jesus came by and asked if I would like to go fishing with him. He said a friend of his had a hut near a good fishing spot. While we talked about fish, I had a feeling he was talking about something else. "We will catch the fish and then have a little fiesta!" he said. I joined him.
We drove into the jungle a few miles then went down a trail. We came to a large thatched hut next to a lake. There were ten or so Indians, Robin, Samuel and El Lobo already there. All were naked. They had completed their fishing that morning. This was the fiesta.
I stripped and joined the men; Samuel came over to me. "This is a special ceremony. It's the equinox, we are greatly honored to be here," he said. "I think we may get to participate in some ancient rites. They are pre-Christian. I assume you have no problem with that."
"None at all," I said. "Is it some sort of initiation?"
"That is my guess. I suspect we three have shared enough sperm with them to be acceptable," he said.
I smiled. "Me too."
"Robin is the exciting one. He a red bear and they think red hair is a mark of other worldly origins," Samuel explained.
"Robin is about as un otherworldly as a man can get!" I said.
"There is a Hercules like figure in their mythology. That figure is referred to as the Red One," Samuel continued. "They assumed he was painted red. When they saw Robin they realized what it really meant." Ten or twenty more Indians joined us and the fiesta began.
There was much drinking, both of homemade beer and of Corona beer in cans. Everyone was in a good mood that only got better. There was singing, a combination of modern Mexican favorites and of some ancient chants. The food was good. As we ate and drank more, the chants became dominant.
One of the oldest and biggest of the men, a man I had never seen before went over to Robin, kissed his cock and then got on his hands and knees. He spread his ass wide so his ass was defenseless. Another man had a small bowl he held next out to Robin dipped his fingers in it and coated his cock.
The chanting continued as Robin mounted the Indian. It must have been a tight fit, but when Robin's cock popped in the ass, there was a joyous outbreak. The chant became more festive. A second man came up to Samuel and the sequence of events was repeated. When Samuel was in the second ass, a third man came over to me.
By the time I was in his ass, Robin had climaxed and was on his back. He hooked his legs with his arms, so that his ass was open. Robin told me later it just seemed like a nice thing to do. Robin tended to be evenhanded and liked the bottom and the top. No one had given him any instruction.
Somehow, that was the correct action. The chanting became more festive as the assembled Indians took turns in Robin's ass. Samuel and I followed Robin's example and open out asses for the general pleasure.
I'm not positive, but I think each of the twenty-five or so Indians spent some time on our asses. Some made a perfunctory slip in and pull out visit. Some had full-scale orgasms. If this had been in New York or LA it would have been a gangbang. Here it seemed like a very intense handshake, or perhaps exchanging the secret coded symbol at an initiation.
For a few of the men, it was much more than that. I had met El Lobo before and he had been polite and pleasant. He became most excited as soon as his cock head cleared my sphincter. I think six or seven men climaxed in me. It was easy to take the cocks. All were well lubricated and soon the lubricant mixed with sperm.
Once that part of the ceremony ended, we returned to eating and drinking. After taking perhaps twenty-five cocks, I should have been tired. I was exhilarated and fully erect. Many went swimming in the pond and returned refreshed and invigorated. Apparently, the ceremonial sex was now over, and they now allowed recreational sex. By now, everyone had climaxed, so the pressure to shoot off was past. It was an afternoon of playful and lazy, if not passionate, sex.
Robin, Samuel and I had asses filled with man seed. When I mounted one of the men El Lobo came to me again and plugged the drooling hole. This time I had a chance to savor his cock and technique. This position was better for me, and seemed to be much better for El Lobo. He again became very enthusiastic. He left after he shot off but came back to me several times again later in the afternoon.
I was getting tired but saw Robin on his back with two younger men holding his legs open and a third with his tongue deep in his ass. He was blindfolded. A minute later, a cluster of younger men came to me and did the same thing to me. The one holding my legs fed me his cock as he sucked mine. He shot off quickly. I ate his load and another youth replaced him. The man at my ass was probing deep and seemed to be trying to lick up the accumulated cum in my ass.
I wasn't too sure about this but the series of orgasms in my mouth made it hard to concentrate. I liked sucking cock but this was almost too much. Almost is the key word here. I couldn't see the Indians but they had forceful orgasms consisting of multiple ejaculations.
While I didn't like being blindfolded; I sensed no danger or ill feeling. It was a joyous occasion. El Lobo told me later these were men who were preparing to join the leadership cluster. That we fed on their semen was an important part of the preparation. They were to feed the guests with their own man seed. At the next meeting, they would receive man seed as we had. Then they would become part of the tribal elite.
They removed the blindfolds and we returned to eating, drinking and screwing. El Lobo brought over an older man. He was an uncle, Old Pedro from a distant village. I wasn't sure if he was an actual uncle or an older family friend, a courtesy uncle. The man was thin and somewhat frail. He was nervous.
I put my arm around Old Pedro and he relaxed. We got down on the mats covering the floor. I licked his soft cock. It came to life. His cock was average, but his balls were oversized, and, as it turned out, overfilled. Eventually I drained them. He had a spectacular orgasms that attracted several, appreciative onlookers.
Old Pedro had a lava-flow type orgasm, rather than an explosive one. I would let few ejaculations' ooze form his cock and then lick it up. The observers liked this. It was an impressive display of manly vigor from an elderly man. El Lobo's friend was beaming in pleasure. I think the pleasure was from both the orgasm itself and the admiration of the audience.
Robin joined me in the cleanup taking the old man's final ejaculations. Robin was a good sport and wanted to share in the older man's vigor. Afterwards, El Lobo, Old Pedro and I talked for a while, and then I returned home. El Lobo came to me two weeks later and told me Old Predro died. He had been an important man in his village, but had never participated in the upper level ceremonies for various reasons.
El Lobo thanked me. I had completed his friend's long life. The ceremony was the missing honor. That a scholar from a distant land and the Red One drained his balls was good beyond his wildest imaginings. El Lobo was almost tearful as he told me. I felt better about El Lobo. He was closer to his people that I thought.
It was a rainy period and I spent most of my time in the library. Jesus found texts relating to the Duke of Lerna's treasure. The Greek wasn't interested in treasure. His fellow monks were more worldly in their interests. Jesus was puzzled that some of his more utilitarian text was written on only one side of the parchment pages. He was also surprised they were written on parchment at all. Parchment is expensive and typically used for religious or historical texts. Nothing in the accounting records justified the cost of the pages. Certainly, if they were using parchment they would have tried to get as much on the sheet as possible and used both sides. The texts were in widely spaced lines and comparatively large figures.
When Jesus held the parchment up to the light, he was able to make out a pale inscription on the backside of the sheets. In the dark storage room of the church, this text couldn't be seen at all. It was evident in Julio's well-lighted library.
The Duke of Lerna had much plunder from his expedition. The combination of disease, and Indian attacks had reduced his troops to a handful. They were no longer capable of carrying the hoard, so they buried it. The monk had found the skeletal remains of the last survivors and an account of the treasure as well as a map. Unfortunately, the monk gave a description of the map and did not specify a starting point.