Date: Sun, 26 Sep 2010 12:45:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Expedition to Mesopotamia 2

Expedition to Mesopotamia, 1934 Part 2

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.



Our ship was Dutch, the Batavia, and carried passengers and freight. Most
freighters carried a few passengers, but the Batavia had higher quality
accommodations than most. A large rubber company owned it and it ferried
their management to the rubber plantations in the East Indies. The captain
and officers as well as the first mate were Dutch. The rest of the crew was
a mixture of Dutch and East Indian men.

The captain, Van der Zee, was dour and almost reclusive.  Apparently, there
was a problem with the boiler and he spent most of his time on the bridge
or with the engineer in the boiler room. The steward was most attentive to
our needs. He was East Indian.

Guttman asked me to his Stateroom to become better acquainted.  The
stateroom was most luxurious consisting of a bedroom and a lounge.  When I
got there, Professor Hertz and Bergman were there.  I had a naked run in
with Bergman and Albert in the hall of Bergman's apartment, so I knew
Guttman was aware of my sexual openness. The stateroom's bar was fully
stocked and alcohol flowed freely being served by Albert and Guttman's
man-servant, Louis. I had never seen Louis before. He apparently was prone
to sea sickness and had been in the cabin for a week. Louis was young,
perhaps in his mid twenties, but didn't look sickly at all. He looked like
the young men one saw promoting Nazi youth in posters.

After ten minutes, Frederick von Wittenburg arrived as did Kurt Kruger and
Johann Fischer the two men I didn't know.  The conversation was formal at
first in the way I remembered conversations with professors. After several
drinks, the party became informal. The stateroom was hot and we took off
our coats. Bergman unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his hairy chest.  He was
a most unlikely member of the master race.

I was talking with Otto about Sumerian poetry when Louis and Albert, who
had been serving the drinks, appeared nude. Otto looked shocked.

"The state room is so simply furnished, I thought some decorative
accessories would be nice," Guttman said.

Frederick laughed. "They are attractive," he said. "But I hope some parts
of these boys are functional!" He was leering at Louis so everyone knew
what parts he was talking about. Bergman and Guttman laughed loudly at the
witticism. Otto was quite uncomfortable.

"It's hot in here," Frederic said loudly. "I think I might join our friends
in dressing like Adam! We seem to have no Eve here though. We are searching
for the Garden of Eden, the birthplace of civilization; we need an Eve."

"Well, I can tell you don't know Albert well!" Guttman said. "We are lucky
Albert wasn't with Adam in the Garden of Eden. Poor Adam's cock would never
have had a chance to get in Eve's cunt. Albert is a sex pig."  He slapped
Albert and made him bend over. "Does anyone want to poke the pig?"

I think it was supposed to be funny, but there was an unpleasant
undertone. Albert looked embarrassed, but Louis was happy as a lark. He
seemed to enjoy Albert's unease. Frederick, Kurt and Johann took Albert off
to the bedroom where they fucked him in between slaps.

Otto said he wanted to talk to me about work problems and said he didn't
want to dampen the affair with shop talk. We left.  I heard Louis
muttering, "Thank god the old troll is gone!" I didn't think it was
accidental we could hear him.

"I like a joke as much as anyone, but I am not sure Albert was in on the
joke," Otto said as we walked on the deck. "Albert is too old for Guttman
now.  He gave his hand me downs to Bergman. Louis is his new true love."

"I was hoping for a pleasant time this evening," he said.  He cupped my
genitals. "I enjoyed seeing you nude yesterday. I get like a foolish
schoolboy when I see a handsome naked man like you.  I hope you are not
offended."

I smiled at him.  "Would you like another look?" I asked. Otto looked like
a little boy getting a birthday present. My interlude with the first Mate
and Rolf was good training for an encounter with Otto.  We stripped and
soon Otto was sucking my cock. I was shocked at that.  I could hardly
believe a distinguished professor would suck a younger man's cock with such
relish. It was unseemly.  I did over that feeling quickly. We got on his
bed and I sucked him as he sucked me. His cock was as thick as the First
Mate's, but was longer. If anything, his manly juices were flowing more
freely than Rolf's or the First Mate's.

Otto was a much older man but his equipment was in full working order.

"I see you have a taste for my pre ejaculatory fluids," Otto remarked when
he noticed my enthusiasm. "My physician says I over produce it.  Some men
think it is messy. You are not one of them I take it?"

"Your home brew is rich and tasty," I replied. I swallowed his entire cock
and then milked him. My tongue licked the underside of his knob, to catch
anything drooling from his slit. My own slit is sealed closed except when
in use. The Professor's slit was partially open, and always sheltered a
bead of his sex juices. When he was excited and nude, a filament of pre cum
continuously drooled from it.

Otto smiled. "I have never heard it called home brew before.  I like that,"
he said.  "I'm messy when sexually stimulated and I am most exited now. I
take it my pre ejaculatory fluids don't offend you? I hope you like the
thicker cream; I am well supplied with that too."  I nodded.

"Let me confess," he continued. "My thick member isn't well designed for
anal penetration. Few men can take it. Alas, anal penetration gives me the
most sexual satisfaction.  Would you be willing to open your ass for me?" I
would love to fill your rectum with my sperm."

"Well, Professor . . . ," I started to say.

"Think of me as Otto, not the professor," he said. "I have discovered that
those who take my cock out of respect or obligation have not enjoyed
it. More importantly, I have not enjoyed it.  Those who have done it out of
curiosity and or in a sexual frenzy did enjoy it. Your ass will be tender
for a few days, but it will be good."

I hardly need say I agreed to take his. I asked if I could sit on it. I
wanted to be in control. He agreed, but said he wanted eventually to take
me doggy style. I said that was fine. I oiled his cock, and slowly sat on
it.  He was excited and his excitement transferred to me. I was well
prepared after taking the First Mate's cock, but every cock is
different. Otto bounced his hips and on one of the bounces, his knob popped
through my sphincter. Gravity did the rest.

Unlike the first Mate, Otto's cock seemed to fill entirely my ass. I was
almost dizzy from the intense sensations. I would squeeze his cock as we
talked.

"You are still milking me," Otto moaned.

"That is good for me," I said.

"So many men think it is messy," he said.  "I am self lubricating."

I then got on my hands and knees. He re-entered me. Unlike Rolf and the
First Mate, Otto was a man rammer. He was vigorous and driven. It was hard
for me to get in control of my feelings since he shifted the angle of
attack and each small changes seemed to generate very different
feelings. I'm not sure how long he fucked me. It could have been as short
as five minutes or as long as twenty. It was hard to collect my thoughts.

Otto shot a spectacular load.  He pulled out for the last two ejaculations
and the bathed my ass in cum. His cream was soothing.  We calmed down and
he re entered me. By then he was perhaps three quarters hard. It was just
hard enough to penetrate me. I squeezed my ass.

"That is lovely," he whispered. "Do you mind if I just leave it there for a
while? It is so warm in you."

"Not at all," I replied. "Can we get in a more comfortable position?"  He
agreed and I sat on him again. The semi-erect cock was unexpectedly erotic
and exciting, still filling. I squeezed my ass to massage his organ.  As
far as I could tell he didn't get any softer, I got harder.

I suddenly slipped over the edge and began ejaculating long ribbons of
sperm. They splattered across Otto's hairy body. His mouth was open and two
globs of sperm landed directly on his tongue.  He looked shocked. "I've
never done his before," he said.  Suddenly Otto began to buck and
twitch. He cock was fully erect again and he had a hands free orgasm,
inspired only by my ass.

I was late and I went back to my cabin. Otto was tired. In my cabin, Rolf
mounted me and fucked me to sleep.

At Suez, a small boat brought two more men to join the expedition. One was
a photographer, Wolf Altburg, and the other a man I was sure was a
functionary from Goebbels' propaganda ministry, Horst Donnat. Horst looked
liked the Aryan superman, and was a true believer.  Donnat had to have his
own cabin, so Wolf joined Rolf and me our cabin. Donnat made an effort to
send Rolf to bunk with the crew, but Otto wouldn't allow that.  Rolf may
have been a working class man, but he was essential for the expedition.

Three men in our cabin was a tight fit.  I didn't care about that, but I
was going to miss playing with Rolf and his friends. Wolf was small and
affable, and he took an upper bunk above me. Wolf and Rolf hit it off
immediately. Rolf knew the photographer's work and was impressed.

At dinner, Donnat lectured us on the Aryan master race and its ancient
homeland.  I thought it was mildly amusing, but both Siegfried Guttman and
Otto took it badly. German professors do not take lectures from
intellectual inferiors. Siegfried was deeply offended.  Otto's academic
credentials were solid and extensive.  Siegfried's accomplishments were
modest and suspect. Horst Donnat's credentials consisted of reading a dime
novel about a city of gold.

The captain joined us for dinner and was deeply unimpressed by the new
passengers. Donnat began to offer a toast to Chancellor Hitler. The Captain
became agitated and rose to his feet. "To the Queen!" he bellowed. We all
rose and gave a toast to Queen Wilhelmina, whose portrait hung in the
dining room. Otto and Siegfried looked pleased Donnat had made such an
faux-pas.  Schmidt made a second effort, but the Captain continued, "And in
honor of our German Passengers I offer a toast to President Paul
Hindenburg."  We toasted the elderly German President. "I believe we have a
Scottish passenger," he added.  I stood and offered a toast to George V,
the King of Scotland. That caused some amusement.

"Herr Captain, should we move on to prime ministers now?" Otto asked in an
innocent voice.

"I must get back to the bridge," Captain Van der Zee said. "I will leave
the remaining toasts up to you." He left. I was sure most, if not all of
the German passengers were Nazi's or Nazi sympathizers, but some discontent
in the ranks could only be so bad. I wanted to know who were true believers
and who were just along for the ride. The politicos did not get along with
the scholars and Donnat did nothing to heal the rift.

Unlike Donnat, Wolf was modest and unassuming. I helped carry some of his
equipment on board and saw the packing labels indentifying him as Wolfgang
von Altburg. I vaguely recalled they were of the Bavarian nobility.


Normally I would spend the evening in the main salon with the rest of the
passengers, but I had enough of Schmidt's pontificating and went for a walk
on the deck before going to bed early. It was pleasant after the stuffy
dining room.  Rolf was walking too and we chatted.

"The cabin is going to be crowded," I remarked.

"And I think we will get getting much more sleep," Rolf added. He fondled
my genitals so I knew to what he referred. "There is some hope. Otto liked
you. The Stateroom may be available. There is a problem, but I think he
will overcome it."

"What is the problem?"

"Otto is shy. He has never done a threesome or group sex," Rolf said. "He
is afraid men will think less of him if they see him with a lesser
partner," Rolf explained.

"By lesser partners does he mean working men?"

"That is my guess. He likes me and wouldn't want to offend, but that is the
case," Rolf said. "He comes from a humble background. His father was a
shoemaker. By the way, do you know you provided the first sperm he ever
tasted?"

Really?"

"Yes, he said it wasn't that bad," Rolf said.

"Well, I was sitting on his cock and he had a hands free orgasm in my ass
when I shot off," I said. "It was good for both of us." I returned to the
cabin and found Wolf nude in bed. I stripped and went to sleep. I was
tired. Several hours later I woke and saw Wolf was in the floor sucking
Rolf's cock. All was well in our cabin.

We steamed through the Suez Canal the next day.  This was uninteresting to
me and the other archaeologists, but the "adventurer" members of the
expedition were most interested.  Many took numerous photographs.  This
didn't surprise me at all, although I assumed Germany had a great deal of
information on the canal from earlier "expeditions."  I later found they
were updating the information and checking for new defenses.

While this was a good seasons for the area, it became increasingly hot as
we steamed south.  I had worked in Egypt, but had been in Alexandria which
had the advantage of sea breezes. I spent the time learning about my fellow
travelers.

I spent an interlude with Gunter Bergman.  He was a thug who had hit the
big time. He had no interest in politics at all. He had been attracted to
Hitler in 1923 and spent a few months in jail after the coup attempt. His
fortunes rose with Hitler. He was now a flunky and retired thug living the
good life. Hitler was his meal ticket, not savior.

Gunter had the sex drive of a bull elephant and genuinely liked man sex. He
liked it all and was willing to do it all. He was passive with men of high
rank and active with men of low rank. This may seem strange, but I think he
enjoyed both roles. Albert was his sexual toy. He very much did not like
having Albert carried off and gang fucked but his colleagues.  Gunter was
possessive.  If they had asked his permission, he might well have agreed.

I walked by his cabin.  I saw him standing naked in his open door. He
winked at me, "I'm trying to find a breeze."

"You are dressed right," I said. he motioned for me to come in.  I was
wearing a light shirt and shorts.

"Are your balls full? I could drain them and lighten you load. I love cock
caviar, Sir Wilhelm," he asked. It was an odd combination of overly sexual
come on and politeness.

I laughed, "Have you ever tasted an English knight's cream?"

He winked at me again, "Not yet. You don't even need to get hot and
sweaty. I will do all the work." I stripped off my clothes and he went to
work. Gunter was enthusiastic and skilled. While I tend to be shy and
retiring, I am not passive. Once I became excited, I wanted to suck him in
return. Gunter was a gorilla of a man, with a thick, meaty cock.  I got him
on the floor and sucked him as I deep fucked his mouth.

Gunter must have been a sword swallower at one time. He took my cock and
maintained his erection as I sucked him. He loved that. I fingered his ass
as I sucked him and found he was already lubricated. I shifted so I could
fuck him. Gunter was very tight, and it took some work, but I got my cock
in him. I got all of my cock in him. He looked uncomfortable a few times,
but he never lost his erection. That was a good sign. When I pulled out, he
looked disappointed.  I asked if he would like to fuck me.  He looked as if
he had won the Irish Sweepstakes. Gunter was an ugly, crude man but he
looked positively angelic as his cock slid into my rectum.

Otto, the distinguished academic was a man rammer; Gunter, the street thug,
was a lover. His cock must have had eyes.  He sought out every sensitive
spot in my ass a caressed it. He loved the place between my sphincter and
prostate. He exercised my sphincter and then caressed my prostate with his
mushroom knob. It was lovely.

"I'm near shooting," he said.  "Can you fucke me again?"  I rolled him on
his back and spread his legs. This time I took my time. I played with
him. He had a hungry asshole.  It twitched in anticipation, and quivered
when my cock head touched it. I'd shove in a few inched and then pull
out. Once and a while, I shove it deep.  That winded him, but his cock
spurted a big glob of precum when I did that.

I was close to the tipping point, so I got out of his ass and fed it to him
again. He was sucking in time for my first spurt and continued until my
last. I felt something warm and wet splattering on my back. Gunter was
shooting too. I felt his sperm dripping down my back.

Frankly, sex with Gunter was way down of the list of things I wanted to do
in my life, right after having a limb amputated or eyes plucked out. The
sex was incredibly good. I was shocked and a bit worried about my seemingly
insatiable sexual drive.

"Guttman said you Englishmen were good," he said once I pulled my cock out
of his mouth. "He didn't say it was this good."

"Well, thank you Herr Bergman," I said. "And who did Professor Guttman
fuck?"

"The Crown Prince," Gunter replied. "He is not really the Crown Prince, he
is the Duke of Spanking and the Prince of Pig Sluts."

"Everyone has to have some skills," I said. "I guess he has to open
parliament, and look good on stamps. That leaves time for some ass
fucking."

Gunter laughed. "Don't forget the ass spanking. He loves a pink bottom!" I
laughed. I went back to my room. I was disturbed the Prince of Wales was
involved with the Nazis. Not only was he involved, but was also
embarrassingly involved. I also was amazed at my own sexual interest. I
apparently had no need to be attracted to a man to have sex with him. I
also realized how useful sex was in getting information.

Gunter was a member of the SA, one of the Nazi paramilitary groups. Good
fortune made her face to shine upon him.  He was on our expedition when
Hitler purged the SA in what was called the Night of the Long Knives. Had
he been in Germany he might have been executed.  One of the reasons given
for the purge was the leader homosexuality. Gunter certainly fell into that
category. By the time, we returned to Germany in late 1935 all that was
ancient history.

The boiler problems that had worried the Captain earlier in the voyage came
to a head in the Red Sea.  We had to stop in Aden to have repairs
made. Aden was a major refueling station for the British fleet. The
"adventurers" were very pleased at that turn of events. The Captain was
very unhappy. We had several days to kill.

I received an invitation to tea at an undersecretary's house. If I were my
father, the invitation would have come for the governor or an Admiral. A
Mr. Simon picked me up in his car at 4:00, and drove me to his
lodgings. Mr. Simon almost deathly pale, thin and anemic looking. My German
companions were deeply unimpressed. He was not master race material.

"I think we may share a common acquaintance, Alistair Norwood," he said
casually.

"We met," I said, "but he was much closer to my bother. It is incredibly
hot here."

"Indeed it is, he replied, "How I long for the chill rains of Midlothian."

"The voyage has been uneventful, but not without interest," I
said. "Siegfried Guttman encountered a certain royal person."

"How intimate was the encounter?"

"It seems to involve anal sex after a heavy spanking," I replied.

"I hadn't expected that," Simon replied. "The Spanking I mean.  The rest I
suspected."

"You move in the those circles?" I asked.

"I rather think I move in three or four levels further down the social
pyramid," he replied. "I do hear whispers. What about the other men."

"Half are noted scholars, the remainder seem to be operatives of the
government," I replied. "There is a geologist interested in oil. I doubt
there are more than a few true believers in the group, most are
opportunists. No one has expressed any disapproval Hitler.  Only Schmit and
perhaps Guttman are into it big time."

"What about Bergman?  He's one ugly bugger."

"I think he by accident made a bet on the right horse," I said. "He's been
very lucky."

"Alistair asked if you had any encounters that were personally
distasteful," Simon asked. "You are new to this line of work. Even I'd have
a problem with Bergman."

"Quite frankly, I've had no problems at all. I have surprised myself."

"I had that experience in 1915 in Geneva," Simon said. "I can be perfectly
happy with a big German cock pounding my ass.  If I do it for King and
Country, it all the better. I use to sing in the church choir. I was a very
good boy and quite proud of it. I sing a different tune now."