Date: Thu, 23 Apr 2020 10:27:41 -0400
From: Bob <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Excavating Gustem Hall

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.