Date: Sat, 16 Oct 2010 19:56:19 -0700 (PDT) From: Bob Archman Subject: Expedition to Mesopotamia 6 Expedition to Mesopotamia, 1934 6 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, or for persons who are offended by alternate life styles. This is 100% fantasy, so no effort at safe sex is suggested. The actual attack on the Bandits' camp was anti climatic. A number of men from the village joined us for the attack, so we had forty men. We surprised, outnumbered and out gunned the bandits, killing all except for several young men who were kidnapped from a neighboring village. The only German fatality was Donnat. I don't think Ali's men had to kill him. His body was a day old when we attacked. He was a difficult man and he must not have endeared himself with the bandits. Von Wittenburg was fine and I sensed this would turn into a bestselling travel book. Guttman was pretty shaken. The bandits were not master race specimens, but they had no problem dominating him. The other men were fine except for Richard. Richard, the geologist was in bad shape. The bandits badly beat him when he tried to escape. I had limited medical skills; I wished we had brought Albert. Ali had a man with some skills. He thought we could get him back to village and they might be able to stabilize him. I could go and get Albert. We turned to the town, but the plans changed. Ali returned to the Sheik with the captives. He would send Albert to us. I stayed with Richard. At first, I thought it was because they thought my nursing skills were good. Ali told me the men in the town wanted me back. Their intentions were peaceful, but not platonic. The bandits we killed had been a problem for the border villages for years. They never attacked the Sheik or anyone clearly under his control. The sheik was not a forgiving man. They liked to attack border villages and towns. We had firmly wiped out one band of brigands. Overwhelming force had its effect. The locals attributed the success to well placed offerings to the creator. The offering was their seed; the place was my mouth and ass. They made the offering and a day later, they wiped out the bandits. It was crystal clear to them. I was uneasy about this and told Ali of my concerns. He laughed. "Sir William, the last thing you need to worry about is that," he said. "No one would dare injure you or even cause you distress. You are the conduit and the receptacle. You have brought them blessings." Remarkably, we had a rainstorm every afternoon while I was there. Soon flowers, grasses and vegetables seem to sprout up everywhere. No one said anything, but the townspeople knew I was responsible for the blessing. They were indeed very nice. Men waited on me hand and foot. As I was caring for Richard, they cared for him as if he were their child. They did everything they could to keep him comfortable. This had a beneficial effect on him. In the stifling heat, they bathed and fanned him continuously. They cleaned his wounds and protected them from infection. They had two or three attendants with him every hour of the day and night. Their foremost physician, Imam Hassam, stayed with him for most of the day and rushed over when ever called. I didn't know if the Imam was an actual religious leader or if the title was due to his learning. He was kind, gentle and humane. He knew all the folk remedies, but best of all he knew which remedies worked. Islamic medicine was once renowned. He was the recipient of that great tradition. Richard slept most of the time, and I was only needed when he was awake. The town's headman came by several times and day and took me to the Hamam, or bath, to receive guests. The town was dusty and there was sand everywhere. Everyone tended to be the color of sand. In the bath, every man was scrupulously clean. This was particularly true about the genitals and the rectal area. The first morning I was there an elderly man came to me begging for aid. The Headman, whose name was Suleiman, tried to shoe him away, but he was persistent. I talked with the elderly man. The bandits had killed his son-in-law, Murad, and defiled his daughter. By law, she had to die. Traditionally the husband was to kill her, but since he was dead, there was confusion. Apparently, he was to kill the unfortunate woman. She had three children who would become orphans. I was quite sure this was both an ancient custom and barbaric. "If a strong man died defending his wife how could she, a weak woman resist?" I asked. The Suleiman and the Imam, Hassam did not answer. "I think the murderer defiled himself by committing such an abomination," I said. "The woman is guiltless." "But she has been defiled; she is dirty!" objected the Imam. "Can anything wash away the dirt?" the old man cried. Suleiman and Hassam looked for me for the answer. They did not have an answer. I improvised. "An offering to me of the pure, white seed of virtuous men, freshly spurting from their genitals will erase and eradicate the dirt and the defilement," I said. "I know no one elevated enough to feed you their seed," the man cried. "I no longer make seed." "Do you have friends and relatives?" I asked. "I know a big, bull of a man, Abdul the Smith," the man replied. "He was my son-in-law's best friend. He would help." "Bring him to me," I said. "How much seed is needed?" the Imam asked. "It might take quite a bit, but I will know after I have met him," I said. "Perhaps Abdul has friends who could help." "He is a very good man," The older man replied. "He has many friends." We agreed to meet the next day at dawn. I guessed the beginning of the day would be a good time for a ritual cleansing. The headman and Imam approved. The elderly man scurried away. I lay back and let Suleiman and then Hassam made a morning deposit. It was the first time for Hassam who was both energetic and skilled. I had Suleiman take my seed pleasing him to no end. I woke before dawn and went to the hamam. I was alone, and an attendant opened the door for me, locking it after I entered. The attendant had a torch and led me to dressing room where I stripped, then into the bath itself. After lighting an oil lamp, he left me. A huge figure emerged from the pre dawn darkness. He was wall over six feet tall, but massive. With a gigantic black beard and hairy body, he almost vanished in the dim lighting. "I am Abdul the Smith," he said in an odd voice. "Come closer," I said. "You are Murad's friend?" "He was a good man. He tried to save his wife," he said. "She is a jewel among women." When he got closer, I saw his mouth was deformed. I suspected it was a cleft pallet, or some similar deformity. That caused the speech impediment. He was as muscular and as hairy as a gorilla. I glanced at his crotch and saw his beautiful equipment. His genitals were as big as he was. He was nervous and uneasy, but his soft cock was eight inches. I wondered if it would fit. I then laughed to myself. I knew I would make it fit. "I am ugly. I was afraid my seed wouldn't satisfy you. I brought my friends," he said. "You are a handsome, manly man," I replied. "I am sure your seed is worthy." I cupped his bull balls in my hand and stroked his cock. When I pulled the skin back, I exposed his cock head. His organ immediately responded, getting hard and a bead of precum emerged. It glistened in the lamp light. He moaned slightly. I touched his slit and collected some of the fluid on my finger. I tasted it. It was sweet precum. "Your cock juice is perfect. Your seed will be fine." "Are your friends here?" I asked. "Can I see them?" "Men, come forward," he called. Five men who were almost as big as Abdul emerged from the darkness. "These are my friends. We are in wrestling club. Several had a leather pouch on a cord around their necks. They hung back; I suspected they were nervous. "Your friends are impressive men. They are bulls, lions. I envy you for having such impressive companions. Come closer." "They are shy," Abdul said. "We aren't use to being naked. We don't normally get in the hamam. It is for men of importance. We never expected an honor like this. We have only heard stories about the festivals of creation." They came forward. All were muscular and well built. All were hairy; some were very hairy. "Gather around me," I said. "All of you are willing to offer me your seed to save the widow of Murad?" "Amir and I knew Murad, the others are here to help Abdul," a man said. "Charity to a friend is always admirable. Charity to a stranger in need is even more so," I said. I leaned forward and whispered into Abdul's ear. "Would you suck my cock?" He moaned again and sank to his knees. He swallowed my cock. The other men were near. I reached out and fondled the genitals of the closest two men. Their cocks became hard. "Are you balls filled with the seed that will save Murad's widow?" I asked. I didn't need to wait for the answer. They were ready, as was I. I knew nothing about Turkish wrestling clubs. An hour later, I knew much more. They traditionally oiled their bodies to make it difficult to grab their opponents. The leather pouches contained oil. They coated themselves and I and we wrestled. I was greatly outweighed, but the oil equalized things. In actual wresting, there was limited sexual contact. It took no more than a few minutes for me to realize the sexual potential. It took them a little longer to realize my sexual capacity and interest. I thought of myself as being sexually inexperienced. In terms of actual number of sexual contacts, that was untrue, however I was somewhat detached from the activity. Rolf found me playmates on the ship. The Sheik and then Ali took me and then offered my body to their friends. I was a willing accomplice and the beneficiary of these activities, but I simply accommodated their desires. I volunteered to take these men to save Murad's widow. The second I saw Abdul I wanted him. I wanted to caress his massive body. I wanted to feel his huge organ in my tight ass and most of all I wanted to watch him moan and twitch as he flooded my rectum with his man seed. I wanted to know if his ejaculations would induce my own orgasm. When his friends joined him, I wanted them too. Abdul was my Hercules, the ultimate man. That he had brothers was more than I could have hoped. My interest in their genitals was clear, and I was in love and in heat. We oiled each other and then fell into a pile of excited men. Abdul took the lead, but he clearly was the first among equals. The oils made penetration easy, but they also made it difficult to force the organ in. You had to slide it in. Briefly, I was afraid this would be difficult, especially given the size of Abdul's cock. I didn't need to worry. This wasn't the first time the wrestlers had enjoyed man sex and they had a wide range of tricks and techniques for enjoying a man's body. As the first rays of the sun entered the baths, Abdul's huge organ slid into my ass. I moaned and cried in ecstasy. The men cheered. Abdul was not a talker. He was embarrassed at his speech problem and tended to be quiet and smile. Ibrahim, Abdul's best friend, told me the objective of sex was to give your partner joy. Your own pleasure was an incidental by product. "A most enjoyable by product," he added with a twinkle in his eye. With the Sheik at the festival, his friends entered me one by one. Each man fucked me until he climaxed. Once he released his seed, he pulled out to be replaced by another man. The wrestlers shared me. Ahmed entered me, pounded me for a while and then turned me over to a friend. They became increasingly enthusiastic on the second and third rounds of penetrations. Ibrahim later told me, they were all old friends and had initiated no one new to their ways in five or six years. They were uneasy about a new man and an untried ass, especially a foreigner like me. They had never penetrated a European before. I suggested that I perhaps wasn't a typical European, but I enjoyed them greatly. "I noticed," Ibrahim replied. The six men were never more than a hands length from me and varied my position. I took it on my back, doggy style and I sat on a few. At one point, I sat on two. These men had long, thin members and while it was a tight fit, it felt wonderful. This was a marvel to the other wrestlers. The pair was the first to shoot off. I don't know if it was my tight ass, or the simple rubbing together of the organs that induced the orgasm, but the three of us loved it. Their orgasms induced other orgasms. Abdul was the last man to shoot. His cock snowplowed into my ass. I was on my hands and knees when he forced his five friends' seed deep into me. Abdul pounded me like a mad man for a few seconds. I felt his hot man seed squirting into me. He almost pulled out for each ejaculation, but he only released his sperm when he was deep inside of me. I shot off too. Ibrahim was there to take my load. When Abdul spurted his last drop of sperm, he pulled out; the two men embraced and kissed. Ibrahim hadn't swallowed my seed. They shared it. We all talked. I found out most of them were Smiths, like Abdul. One man, Omar, was a scholar and teacher. All, except for Omar, were from poor families and had little chance of marriage. The wrestling was their chief entertainment. I suspected it was their chief means of sexual release too. The conversation was relaxing, but I realized it gave us all a chance to recharge. The smallest of the men was Ibrahim's apprentice and they called him the boy. He was perhaps 23 or 24 and would have been a big man in any group other than the wrestling club. Glancing at him, I saw he was erect. "You duty is done," I said, "but there is no reason not to enjoy ourselves again, if you are willing. Do you play among yourselves?" the man nodded. "You have felt your friends' insides and bathed it with your seed? Have you fed them your cock milk?" He nodded again. He was uneasy. I stroked his cock. "What better gift is there than you balls seed?" I asked. "Is anything more pleasurable than shooting it into your beloved friend's ass?" the man relaxed. We were all still excited and we resumed our pleasure giving games. This time they enjoyed their friends as well as me. I fed Abdul my cock as I held his legs wide so Ibrahim could fuck him. They were best friends. It was a joy to watch Ibrahim's large cock head open Abdul's hole and then slide in deeply. I sucked Abdul and tasted him react to his friend's organ. The largest cock is miniscule compared to the entire mass of a man, yet it can so dominate your emotions. Men talk of fucking as a violent act and sometimes as a degrading act. Abdul's hole almost kissed Ibrahim's cock as they touched. I could taste pre cum gush as the head rubbed Abdul's prostate, and when the organ was fully lodged, I felt Abdul relax. Abdul rewarded me with his seed. I took it and then shared it with Ibrahim. It was perfect. The sun was up now and I returned to see Richard, who was doing much better. I walked around the town that day with Hassam. It had seemed almost abandoned after the attack by the bandits several days earlier. Now it was thriving. An old women and a boy brought me a honey cake. They were obviously poor and such a cake was an expensive delicacy. I accepted it and thanked them for the great display of generosity. "She is the widow's mother," Hassam said. "The law is the law, but sometimes it can be cruel. There is another case. Perhaps it is too minor for you to consider." "Tell me about it." "The bandits molested another young woman. She was engaged, but now she can't marry. The bridegroom's family will not allow it," he said. "And the bride groom himself?" "He is much attached to the girl," Hassam explained. "Does the girl have supporters?" "She has a widowed mother only," he continued. "There is a neighbor who has treated her like a daughter. She calls him Uncle Abdul." "The town is filled with Abduls!" "Indeed it is. There are many named Abdul, Ali and Mohammad," Hassam said. "He is the uncle of Abdul the Smith. This is a small town." "Do they look alike?" "You wouldn't guess they were related," he said. "They do share one characteristic. Abdul the Smith told me you took his organ effortlessly. The uncle may be slightly longer." I smiled. Hassan went off to make arrangements. I spent the afternoon with Richard. He was awake, but not talking or particularly alert. That worried me. I spoke to him in German for several hours. I suspected he thought he was still under the bandits' control. It seemed to be wasted effort. "I would like to walk," he suddenly said. "Can I do that?" I called for his attendants and we got him out of bed. "These are not the brigands?" he asked. "Not at all, they helped save you," I said. "The bandits are dead." "I should give them a reward," he murmured. "Don't worry about that. I already have," I explained. Three of us helped him walk to the door and back. It was a great effort for him, but he made it. "I am weak," he said as he settled back into the bed. "You will get stronger soon," I said. I asked the attendants to get some food for him. They were overjoyed their patient lived. "They will feed you and then you must rest. Tomorrow we can try walking again," I said. "How do you say thank you in Arabic?" Richard asked. I gave him the proper words. I went off to dinner. I told the attendants he wished to give his thanks, but he might not get the words exactly right. They understood. At dinner, I got a message from Ali. Albert had gone to Baghdad to get medical supplies. We were to send a messenger if we needed to be brought back to the camp. I sent a note that all was well and Richard seemed to be recovering under the care of the townspeople. I added that Suleiman and Hassan were fine, honorable men and good leaders. All was well. That night I went to the bath and played with Suleiman, Hassam and several of their friends. This was simple recreational activity without the ritual aspect of earlier encounters. My morning activity with the Blacksmiths seemed to have relaxed me. Hassan noted he went in deeper than before. We both enjoyed it. I also realized the analyzed every movement I made. I needed to be careful. Later I made great show of sucking Hassam and enjoying every drop of the man seed he shot into my mouth. He was proud as a peacock. I had a suspicion they might want to keep me but I had a plan. I respected Suleiman and Hassam. They were sensible and intelligent. I would designate them as my replacements. They already were respected and their sexual skills were suited for the traditions of the clan. The next morning, I got up and returned to the bath to meet Uncle Abdul. He was older and, shorter than the smith was, but had the same basic physique, and genitals. He was not shy or unsure about himself, but wasn't boastful. He was a stonemason and he brought seven masons with him. I assumed they were part of a guild. They were older than the wrestlers were. They were grizzled and weather beaten as you would expect of men who did heavy labor. "My friends are my crew. They are older, but they are fine and lusty specimens of manhood," Uncle Abdul said. "Their balls are still productive and they can offer their seed to you." "The girl is your neighbor?" I asked. "Yes, I have known her since she was an infant. We were away on the other side of town when they attacked her. We ran back to my house when we heard the attack. The coward who attacked her ran when he saw us. He never penetrated her, but she saw his nakedness." "The bandits are all dead, so she had been avenged," I said. I reached out and fondled his balls; they were massive. "My nephew said he felt great pleasure with you. He and I think much alike," Abdul said. My men are simple stonemasons. I hope they are not unworthy of the task?" "If they can feel pleasure and shoot sperm, they will be perfectly acceptable," I replied. Abdul cupped my genitals in his hand and leaned forward. "I can personally guarantee their equipment is in full working order. They haven't lost a drop of seed since the bandits were here," he whispered. "You tell them where you want it and they will get it there. A few are messy; they seem to drool a lot when they are excited." I smiled at him. "They drool the sweet juice from the balls?" "That they do," he answered. "Who drools the most? "I do sir," he said. He winked at me.