Date: Mon, 3 Nov 2014 19:31:44 -0800
From: John Black <blackhunk33@gmail.com>
Subject: Library of Alexandria, Chapter 1

Library of Alexandria

Chapter 1


A.D. 257.

	Gaius Quintus Cratus looked up briefly and nodded.  A smile crossed
his handsome face when he saw the Greek slave stride toward him.  Alexander
was one of his best translators and scribes.  He knew that Alexander had
been trained in Greece by a merchant, but he didn't know where he was born.
No matter, he thought.  The man was gifted when the text was in Greek or
Hebrew.  And he spoke and wrote exquisite Latin.  Translating for him was
as easy as breathing.  He only wished he were faster at engraving.

	Many of the ancient texts were disintegrating, due to the humid
climate in Alexandria.  In the desert south or west of Alexandria, the
problem was nearly as bad.  There the papyrus would dry out so badly that
it would crumble into dust.  The only solution was to engrave the words on
stone or clay tablets.  It was up to him to determine which of the
priceless scrolls and books should be permanently preserved on stone or
clay tablets.  And that's what he was asking his staff of slaves to do now.

       He knew the political situation was unstable.  That instability
could easily lead to the destruction of the Library.  Military commanders
only cared about battlefield position; not what was irreplaceable, and in
their way.

       The Library already had one close call.  In 48 B.C.E., the future
emperor, Julius Caesar was pinned against the harbor with a small Roman
military detachment.  He had started a fire in the docks that had spread to
the warehouses and had eventually consumed the smaller of the two libraries
in Alexandria.  The main library wasn't touched by the flames.

	The Library now consisted of about 490,000 scrolls.  Most of them
were Greek, Egyptian, Hebrew, Babylonian, and Aramaic translations.  Too
many of the originals had long since crumbled into dust.  Only the clay
tablets from Babylon and Sumer still existed.  But, they were not written
in Latin, so they had to be translated.  For that, Gaius had another
learned slave from Nubia who had been trained by his former master in the
finer points of those ancient languages.  Utimbo was dutiful and talented.

	Presently, all the Egyptian texts had been translated by another
slave who was now working on monuments and their engraved narratives.
Grave robbers continued to pillage the pharoahs' tombs, selling off the
precious stones and metals to the Romans and the books and papyrus scrolls
to him.  He was the only market for the written word, but he did give them
a fair price with no questions asked.  When those texts became available,
he would ask his Egyptian expert to quickly translate those into Latin and
then return to his monuments.

	Recently, as part of the on-going quest for new acquisitions, Rome
had doubled their efforts to obtain very old and rare documents from
conquered lands.  If they couldn't buy them, the Romans would confiscate
them.  Sometimes they would return a translation of the original to the
owner, but the original always stayed in the Library of Alexandria.

	From the establishment of Library of Alexandria by Ptolemy I, one
of the great generals of Alexander the Great, in about 300 B.C.E, his Greek
agents were especially keen on old texts about ancient civilizations.
After the fall of Alexandria to the Romans, that quest for very old texts
was accelerated and even more ruthless than the Greeks had been.  Gaius was
now the happy recipient of those aggressive agents' work.  Only last year,
he had been presented with a clay tablet that spoke of a civilization more
ancient than the Sumerian or Babylonian.  However, it was written in a
language he couldn't comprehend.  He had asked his best slaves to try, but
most of them gave up after a week of no progress.

	However, Utimbo and Alexander hadn't given up on the task.  Working
together, they had surmised the general idea of the written history.
Seeing similarities between this text and another fragment of another
written language that was more ancient than Babylon, they thought they had
the general story laid out.  Encouraged by the Director of the Library,
they worked tirelessly in translating the full text.  The symbology had
some similarities to the pictograms of ancient Egypt, but no one knew how
to translate the ancient Egyptian that came from the western desert.  They
were making educated guesses, but they were still guesses.

	Gaius suggested that they write down the symbols from the ancient
texts with the Latin translation directly below it.  If they couldn't
translate it, they would leave a space for future generations to fill in.
It wasn't very satisfying, but it was the best they could do under the
circumstances.  When Alexander and Utimbo finished the partial translation,
they added their names to the bottom with a symbol that meant they had done
this together.  Another symbol, the infinity symbol, between their
signatures meant they were the Roman equivalent of married.

	Gaius had spirited away the most precious of the old artifacts,
including their translations into dry caves in the Sinai across the Red Sea
from the fertile delta of the Nile.  There, they were placed in ceramic
pots and sealed with wax and tight fitting lids.  When Gaius died in
A.D. 267, Alexander and Utimbo tried to keep the practice going, but their
new master had them doing other things that didn't preserve any of the new
acquisitions.  The new Director was not a scholar or intellectual.  He was
a retired military general with scarcely the ability to read and write.
Rumor had it that the general was related to the Emperor and had no real
military experience, either.  But, Alexander and Utimbo worked at night to
translate and preserve the most precious of scrolls, books, and tablets
that they found.  With an existing bibliography of what was already stored
in the caves, they wouldn't retranslate and preserve anything they had
previously saved.

	Their last wagon of precious artifacts had been delivered to the
caves when word arrived from Alexandria that the Library had been
destroyed.  Seeing no reason to return, they filled in the mouth of the
cave with debris and planted shrubbery and trees in front of the old
entrance.  There hadn't been more room in the cave for many more old texts,
anyway.

	Indeed, catastrophe struck in A. D. 270 when Emperor Aurelian, in
his attempt to put down a rebellion in the kingdom of Palmyra, had battled
through the streets of Alexandria.  The palace area and the Library were
consumed by flames.  Very little was saved, and even that was eventually
lost to the sands of time.  Alexander and Utimbo travelled to Nubia, safely
away from the main power bases of the Romans shrinking empire.  But, every
year, they went back to the cave to be sure it was still sealed and that
the trees and shrubs had survived their roles as camouflage.  They lived
out their days in obscurity.  In their last year together, when old age was
taking away their sight and hearing, they travelled across the Red Sea as
they had done every year, but this time to a monastery of the Christian
sect.  They told the old priest there what they had done to preserve the
history of the world and where the cave could be found.  The priest
understood the obligation he now had to keep that knowledge away from the
world until humanity was ready for it.  They presented the priest with a
manuscript of the contents and a fired clay tablet describing in greater
detail what they had just told him.

	Only the succeeding high priests would ever know about this; and
that knowledge and the written details were passed down through the ages
without the world knowing of its existence.  Knowing that the manuscript
probably wouldn't survive the ages, even in the arid climate of the Sinai,
Alexander and Utimbo had created a duplicate of the manuscript, but on a
series of fired clay tablets that they'd placed in the cave with the
ancient histories.

	For several generations, the high priests had made a copy of the
manuscript that had been left in their charge.  They knew the original
papyrus wouldn't survive.  But, the practice was abandoned by the end of
the first millennium for reasons no one knew.  However, the last priest did
take the manuscript he had as well as a new translation of it into Arabic
and sealed both in an earthenware jar that he sealed with wax.  The jar was
placed in the store room where it collected dust for the next millennium.

	Even the most sacred places couldn't withstand the ravages of time,
especially when they were so remote.  In this particular case, the
monastery had been bypassed by the march of time.  New recruits for the
priesthood for that location were sparse and then dropped to none.  As the
last ten men slowly passed away, leaving fewer and fewer of their brothers
to take over the sacred work, the last high priest tried with the best of
intentions to keep the monastery going.  He began to sell off the ancient
artifacts in his care.  Most had little or no artistic value, so buyers
were few.  Even collectors of ancient jars weren't moved to buy what he was
selling.

	Finally, one of the young lads from a nearby village that supplied
the monastery with food and beverage suggested to the priest that he could
do better if he listed the items for sale on the internet with their
descriptions and pictures.  Not having an internet connection, the high
priest left it up to the young man to do it with the promise of 10% of the
proceeds going to the young man.

	Immediately, there was interest from a number of museums and
collectors.  The bidding was spirited, but finally ceased after 12 days.
With funds transferred to the monastery and 10% of that sent to the young
man who had done all the work, the artifacts were shipped off to the
winning bidders.  As luck would have it, the clay tablets and the jar with
the manuscripts were send off to the same bidder in the United States, a
collector of rare antiquaries with very deep pockets.  He had seen
something in the photographs that piqued his interest and caused him to
outbid all others.

	When the items arrived, it was like Christmas morning for him.
With him were two of his closest associates and experts in ancient
languages.  They shared his enthusiasm for ancient artifacts, even though
they could never afford to own them.  The three men carefully opened the
first of the crates and pulled away the cushioning excelsior.  "Look at
this, lads!" he said excitedly, pointing to a vague series of words etched
near the neck of the clay jar.  Using a delicate brush, he swept away
nearly a millennium of cobwebs and dust, revealing Latin words.  Michael
Rovere quickly translated the Latin into English.  "Contained herein is a
bibliography of the most important scrolls in the Library of Alexandria."

	"Wow," breathed his associate and friend, John Sinclair.  "The seal
on the jar isn't broken that I can see.  Do you think the contents are
still readable?"

	"We'll take it to the lab and find out," his benefactor and boss
said firmly.  "Bring that other smaller crate with you, Michael.  I think
it is just as ancient and in similar shape."

	Michael picked up the 30 pound crate and followed the other two men
into the well-appointed laboratory.  If you wanted to preserve and
carefully work with ancient manuscripts, this lab was one of the best in
the world.  He placed the unopened crate on the floor near a work table.
The other two men had moved on to another work bench that held special
equipment for unrolling and viewing ancient scrolls.  With the jar laid on
its side, they carefully broke the wax seal and removed the lid.

       All three tried to peer inside at the same time.  Michael and John
moved aside to give their mentor a clearer view.  "Light and forceps,"
Mr. Asquith asked.  John moved a light into place while Michael handed the
padded forceps over.  "Hmm," he mused.  "It appears there are two separate
scrolls in there.  Let me see if I can finesse one of them aside to pull
out the other."  Using the forceps, he carefully pulled a scroll toward the
mouth of the jar.  "That's not gonna work," he finally said, releasing the
scroll and looking inside again.  "Maybe if I push this one aside, I can
grab the other one more readily."

	Working slowly, he rolled the jar to the left and pushed the first
scroll gently back into position and reached for the other one.  With
extreme patience, he was able to extract it slowly.  He placed it on the
table and went back to the jar.  The original scroll came out easily now.
With the scrolls lying side by side, he moved the jar off the table and
examined the first scroll.

	"These are in remarkable condition," he beamed.  "I wonder how old
they are?  Please put the jar on one of the tables for a closer
examination, John, while I look more closely at the scrolls."

	John carefully moved the jar off the floor and gently placed it
upright on to a table about eight feet away.  With another soft bristle
brush, he swept away additional dust and detritus from the neck of the jar.
He knew that a maker's mark would usually be found there.  If he were
lucky, it would be from a manufacturer of this type of handled jars.  He
was in luck!  The mark was one known to him.  The person who made this type
of storage jar was in business about a millennium ago.  So, the contents of
the jar had to be at least that old, too.  "The jar is over one thousand
years old!" he exclaimed.

	The other two men looked up and smiled, but then looked puzzled.
"This may be a momentous find," Mr. Asquith remarked, "but, I do have to
wonder if the jar is a thousand years old, how could the contents include a
bibliography of the Library of Alexandria?  It burned down about A.D. 270."

	"That's what I was wondering, too," Michael said.  "Something isn't
right here.  Do you suppose it's a fake?"

	"Possibly," Mr. Asquith allowed.  "Perhaps, the scrolls will
enlighten us."  Carefully, he teased apart the pages of the first scroll
and let them rest individually on the table.  "If the clay jar is about a
thousand years old, we should see any writing on the scrolls as about the
same age.  Assuming they used the ink of the period, what components of
that ink will show up best in the light analyzer?  We'll try first for iron
gall ink.  Considering it was kept in a monastery, they may not have had
access to that, although they could have made it.  They could have used
vegetable dyes, instead though."

	With a quick scan of the open edge of one page of the scroll, they
knew the ink was iron gall.  "This should be easy to read then,"
Mr. Asquith smiled.  "I'm still surprised at how supple these pages are.
It must be the sealed container where they were stored that kept them in
such a perfect state."

	"This one looks like it was written in Arabic," Michael pointed to
the larger scroll.  Although Michael's ancestry was Italian, he was the
Arabic expert.

	"And this one seems to be in Latin," John observed of the other
scroll.  John's Latin expertise came from his training in the Catholic
seminary.  But, he didn't last long in the priesthood after graduation for
a number of reasons that we'll get into later.

	"Check the last pages to see if we are looking at the same text or
different texts," Mr. Asquith asked.

	Dutifully, the two assistants looked at the last readable sentences
on the manuscript.  Michael began a halting translation of the larger
scroll written in Arabic.  John followed along as soon as he figured out
where Michael was.  John finished the translation for both of them, talking
over Michael.  "They're the same," Michael finally smiled.  "Although some
of the language is not modern, it does comport well with our estimate of a
thousand years old."

	"Two versions of the same list! Excellent," Mr. Asquith said.
"Let's start at the beginning of page one on both texts.  Go get your
laptops and you can start simultaneous translations."  The young men moved
off to get their computers.  Mr. Asquith carefully laid out the first page
of each text.  The one written in Latin seemed older because of its
condition and the size of the pages.  While he waited for the young men to
return, he glanced over at the other crate and pried away the boards and
started pulled out the packing material.  Inside was one large fired clay
tablet.  The writing was in Latin, but what intrigued him the most was a
sketched-in map.  He would have to translate the old Latin to see if it was
a narrative about the map.  He began writing down what he was roughly
translating when the men returned.  "Look what's in the other crate: a map
with an accompanying text in old Latin!  I wonder if this was created when
the Library of Alexandria was still standing."

	Michael and John crowded around to look at the clay tablet.  Both
were fluent in Latin that was spoken and written at the time of the
Caesars.  Scanning it quickly, Michael spoke up.  "Yes, it is directions to
accompany the map.  We'll need a current map of the region to be able to
pinpoint where the map wants us to go."

	"And look at this!" John exclaimed.  "This says that all the
scrolls and books that are in the bibliography are preserved in the cave
that the map takes us to!"

	"This is an astounding find!" Mr. Asquith exulted.  "Let's get
started on those translations!  I'll work on the translation of the map and
see if I can find a current map that will match this one."  In another 15
minutes, he had an exact translation of the map text to his satisfaction
and shared it with his two assistants.  "The text is very clear about how
to get to the cave that holds all the significant histories, sciences,
religions, myths, and literature of ancient peoples.  How are you boys
doing?

	John spoke up first.  "This is an amazing bibliography.  It
promises that the collection contains histories of the Minoans, the
Etruscans, the Babylonians, Sumerians, Atlantians, Egyptians, Romans, and
other civilizations I've never heard of."

	Michael excitedly nodded his head.  "I couldn't believe what I was
reading.  There are histories of civilizations here that evidently predate
the Babylonians.  And assuming your translation of the map text is correct,
Mr. Asquith, the next pages will include the sciences, religions, and
literature of those same civilizations!  This in unbelievable!  We have to
get to that cave!"

	"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Mr. Asquith smiled.  "We need
to finish the full translation of the two versions of the bibliography.
There may be additional information there that will tell us more about the
collection.  And we need time to compare the translations to see if
anything is clearer in one version than the other.  I'm guessing the older,
smaller scrolls in Latin will be the more accurate and complete.  When
scribes copy, they often make mistakes of omission and commission."

	For the next three hours, the young men toiled over their
translations.  Mr. Asquith encouraged them to take great care in their
work, using available dictionaries and other resource materials if they
found a word or phrase that didn't seem to be quite right.  Also, he told
them to halt their translations at the end of the history section, so they
could take a much needed break and rest their eyes and minds.  Both
computers were on the private network of the multi-billionaire, so he was
able to read their translations as they occurred and compare them.  When
they differed, he asked them to try to reconcile those differences.  In two
cases, the Arabic text had left out an important word that was clear in the
Latin version.  As he had surmised, Mr. Asquith knew that all scribes make
mistakes, even the very careful ones.  It was especially easy when you were
translating from one language to another.

	Michael and John pushed aside their computers and rubbed their
tired eyes about the same time.  "This is punishing work," John said.  "I
haven't worked my mind this hard in ages.  My usual translations are a
phrase or paragraph, maybe a page.  But, this is much more!"

	"What makes it more difficult is that the bibliography is words and
phrases, not true text.  So you don't get the flow of a narrative.  What
makes this harder is all the proper names of places and people," Michael
added.

	"It's getting late," Mr. Asquith observed.  "Let's call it a night.
The scrolls will be here in the morning when your minds are fresh.  As
always, gentlemen, this discovery is not to be spoken about to anyone else
until after the provenance has been proved and the cave has been located
and explored.  If this cache of records is as big as it seems, we'll need a
select cadre of scholars to help us with translations and analysis.
Meanwhile, keep this under your hat."  With a nod of agreement, they bid
their boss good night and left together.

	"Is that the most amazing thing you've ever seen, Mike?" John asked
as he got behind the wheel of their car and sped off.  "We're so fortunate
to be involved at the beginning of this discovery.  It'll rewrite human
history!"

	"I know Mr. Asquith is anxious to get the whole thing translated,
especially now that we know that the original texts still exist in a cave
somewhere.  It can't be far from Alexandria or they wouldn't be able to get
it all moved before the library burned."

	"The Director of the Library must have seen the destruction coming
or he wouldn't have taken the extra time and personnel to do all this,"
John observed.  "I wonder how long it took and how many people assisted him
in this task?"

	"Perhaps, he was just a very cautious man who had seen the
destruction of other priceless artifacts due to carelessness or wanton
military action," Mike replied.  "It could even be religious reasons.  The
Taliban are destroying priceless artifacts even in this day in the name of
religion," he pointed out.  "And look what the Spanish conquistadors did to
the Aztecs and Mayan people!  Other cultures are valueless to religious
fanatics like that."

	"Nevertheless, we are very fortunate for his foresight.  I wonder
who he was," John mused as he pulled into the garage of their shared
condominium.  "How about steak and salad for dinner tonight?"

	Michael smiled and nodded.  "I'll make the salad, you make the
steaks.  And I'll get out a bottle of bubbly to celebrate this incredible
find."

	"You're the most incredible find I'll ever see," John smiled and
kissed Michael.

	"You sweet talker, Jay," Michael responded.  "And with some bubbly,
I'd think you're trying to get into my pants."  When they were alone,
Michael was Mike and John was Jay.

	"Aren't I always?" John beamed.

	"I've never been able to resist you.  You know that," Michael
replied and kissed him again.  "From the first day I saw you, I was a
hopeless case."

	Michael and John had met at the wedding of a mutual friend, the
groom.  It was a June wedding.  Michael had just finished his master's
degree in medieval and ancient languages.  He spoke Italian, Spanish,
Latin, French, English, and Arabic.  John had finished his studies at the
seminary with emphasis on the ancient church which included Latin, Greek,
English, and a passing acquaintance with Hebrew.  Mr. Asquith was the
expert in Egyptian hieroglyphics, Babylonian, and Sumerian texts.  But,
getting back to John and Michael, they had been introduced by the groom to
each other.  Michael had been in the same fraternity as the groom and John
knew the groom from the groom's volunteer work at a Catholic charity.

	The two young men found that they had an instant chemistry and a
mutual interest in ancient languages.  But, it was also clear that the
chemistry went much deeper than personalities.  There was a physical need
to know each other better.  Michael took the initiative and invited the
young priest to have dinner with him.  They laughed and talked and
eventually bared their souls to each other.  By the end of the evening,
John had confessed that he was attracted to Michael.  Michael had beamed at
the revelation and told John that he didn't want John to do anything he
didn't want to do, but Michael sincerely enjoyed his company and wanted
very much to share his bed with him.  At that point, Michael revealed that
he was gay.  John smiled and nodded.  "Yes, I assumed so.  I'm not
inexperienced in that way," he added.

	"This is indelicate of me, but why are you in the priesthood then?"
Michael asked.

	John looked down at the table they shared and said, "Well,
truthfully, I was running away from my sexuality.  I thought the priesthood
might help me in that regard.  As it turns out, I've found more men in bed
with other men than I did before I joined the seminary.  And I'm not yet a
priest.  I haven't taken my final vows."  He looked up and smiled at
Michael.  "I never thought I'd ever meet someone like you.  If I had, I'd
never have gone to the seminary.  You exude sexuality and intelligence."

	"I don't mean to pull you away from your calling, John, but I must
ask.  Please, come home with me.  I want to get to know you much better,"
Michael nearly begged.  "I promise you that I will never force you to do
anything that you don't want to do."

	"I'm afraid that with you, I'll want to do everything," John
confessed.  "I don't know that I can trust myself with you."

	"The old Catholic guilt trip," Michael laughed.  "Been there, done
that!"  He looked John in the eyes and nodded.  "Please, John.  I want to
know you much better, even if it can't be sexual."

	They spent the night together.  Once John was in bed with a naked
Michael, he couldn't resist the Italian stallion.  Michael still has the
most beautiful ass he's ever seen, eaten, or fucked.  And his big Italian
sausage feels so good when it is deep in John's ass, making love to him,
spraying a big, creamy load of man seed deeply up his eager ass.

	Michael couldn't believe his good fortune.  Within a minute of
getting into bed, they were kissing.  Seconds later, John had discarded his
underwear and was naked next to his host's muscular body.  Michael slowly
played gently with John's erect nipples and then began kissing and sucking
on them.  But, what really surprised him was how big John's dick was and
how amazingly beautiful John's bubble butt was.  Michael could tell by
John's features that John had some black ancestors.  John's hard body
served to emphasize how perfect his ass was.  John's ancestry showed in his
full lips, curly hair, and enormous dick.  Michael thought that his Italian
ancestry blessed him with a thick, long dick, but John had him easily beat
in the dick department.  As soon as he knew John had a huge dick, Michael
knew he wanted John to fuck him.

	As the evening progressed, they blew each other, rimmed each other,
and fucked each other most of the night.  Despite John's expressed
reluctance at dinner, he showed no restraints of any kind in bed.  They
spent the rest of the weekend together, getting to know each other better
and spending some quality time in bed.  They laughed at how they'd been
perceived as tops because they were so well hung.  But, both enjoyed
bottoming occasionally.  However, in the past, it hardly ever happened.

	As the weekend ended, John had made a decision.  He was leaving the
priesthood.  Michael had released him from his guilt about sex with men.
Whether Michael was the man in his future, only time would give him the
answer.  But, in his mind, there was no turning back.  On Monday morning,
he told the Abbot that he was leaving the priesthood.  The Abbot attempted
to understand why he was leaving, but John would only say that he'd had a
soul searching weekend and had concluded that he could do more good in the
world outside the confines of the church hierarchy.

	Michael knew nothing about what John had done.  But, he wasn't
about to let a specimen as wonderful as John get away.  He enjoyed the sex
with him more than he had with any other man.  But, there was another
connection with John that went far deeper.  He knew that after only a
weekend with him.  He wanted more of John, much more.  Michael didn't want
to appear anxious or desperate, so he waited until Tuesday to call John and
make another date with him.

	The conversation started with bland pleasantries, but Michael had
to get to the point.  "I'm so happy that I met you, John.  The last weekend
was the best of my life.  I know this will sound ridiculous, but it is how
I feel.  I've missed you!"  He heard nothing but silence on the end of the
conversation.  "I hope I haven't offended you," he finally added.

	"No, you haven't offended me, Mike," John replied.  "But, you
should know that the last weekend was a turning point in my life."  He
paused, unsure how to proceed.  "Mike, I've left the priesthood."

	"Really?" Mike blurted out.  "That wonderful!  I mean, if that's
what you really want.  Oh, damn.  I'm making a mess of this.  I'm sorry."

	"You have nothing to be sorry for," John said.  "It was a decision
a long time coming.  It was going to happen anyway.  You were only the
happy catalyst the sparked the break."

	"I broke you away from your life's calling," Michael protested.  "I
feel so bad about that."

	"You shouldn't," John insisted.  "You're a wonderful man and you've
only shown me what my life's calling truly is, not what others had talked
me into."

	"Have you really left the seminary?  Where are you staying?"
Michael inquired.  "Are they giving you time to leave, like a week or a
month to get a new life?"

	"No," John replied.  "I voluntarily left the seminary Monday
morning after I talked to the Abbot.  I needed time to think about my
future now that it isn't the priesthood.  So, I'm staying at a hotel for a
few days.  After that, I'll probably go to my parents.  I'm sure they'll be
very disappointed in me."

	"Well, that's your decision, of course, but I'd really like you to
stay with me, John, until you figure out what you want to do with your
life," Michael offered.  "I certainly have the room and it won't be any
bother at all having you here.  I've just graduated with my master's degree
and I have a job lined up, so we would have a good income while you find
what you want."

	"That's very kind of you to offer, but I don't want to impose on
you so soon after I've met you."

	"Nonsense," Michael retorted.  "Pack your bags and get over here
right away.  Even better, where are you?  I'll drive over and pick you up."

	"You really don't have to, Michael.  I can manage," John insisted.

	"Not gonna happen, John.  Tell me where you are you I can come get
you," Michael again said.

	John laughed and replied, "Okay, I'm at the Best Western on Maple."

	"I'll be there in 10 minutes!"  And John never moved out.  Within a
month, John was working for Mr. Asquith, too.  With his language skills, he
was a natural fit for Mr. Asquith's collection of artifacts.  That was
three years ago.  Meanwhile, the romance between John and Michael bloomed.
They married a year after they met.  Their wedding rings were a series of
infinity symbols.

	After dinner, they retired to the den and watched some television.
During the first commercial break, they were getting into some serious
kissing.  By the second break, Michael had pulled out John's monster dick
and had sucked it to full erection.  John cued up a porno movie that they'd
been watching over the last week.  They'd never finished it as they were
too involved in their own sexual desires and performances to pay attention
to the television.  Tonight was no different.

	"Fuck me, please, Jay," Michael begged, wiggling his ass in John's
face.  John glanced up at the television.  The "actors" there were enjoying
a good rimming.  John thought that was a good idea, so he rimmed out
Michael's ass, making his husband delirious with pleasure.  "Please!  You
gotta fuck me!"  John smiled and stood behind his doggie style partner.
With practice, John knew exactly how to pleasure Michael.  This wouldn't be
the first time that John fucked a load into his husband that caused Michael
to nutt without touching his own dick.  Less than two minutes later, that's
what happened again.

	Knowing this was always a possibility, they always had a towel
nearby that Michael quickly spread out on the floor beneath him.  He could
feel his climax building as John pounded his hungry hole with the biggest
dick Michael had ever sat on.  They collapsed on to the floor, spent.
Michael's warm cum coated his abs as he lay atop the creamed towel.

	They watched another program, but paid little attention to it.
They would rather talk about the discoveries that they'd made in the lab
that afternoon.

	When it was time for bed, they showered together, raising their
libidos to another high point.  Heading for the king sized bed, their hard
dicks led the way.  They rolled around on the bed for several minutes
before Michael rolled atop John and raised John's legs to Michael's broad
shoulders.  "I believe you need to be bred," he smiled down at his husband.
"But, you aren't allowed to beat off while I do it," he added, slapping
John's had away from the massive black dick in his hand.

	"But, I need to get off, too," John protested.

	"Oh, you will, just not like that," Michael instructed.  "I have
other plans for that baby maker."

	Grabbing the lube from the side table, Michael applied a generous
amount to John's ass and his own hard, Italian dick.  "I'm always so
surprised and pleased how big your dick is, and how much I love taking it
up my ass," John teased.  "You'll turn me into an unabashed bottom!"

	"No danger of that, Jay," Michael countered.  "The biggest black
dick in town is on permanent loan to your husband's ass."  Michael leaned
in and kissed him passionately.  When they broke the kiss, Michael was
panting and on the verge of his second climax of the evening.  "Fuckin'
sweet ASS!" he bellowed as his thick, Italian sausage erupted in a series
of jetted streams of man juices.  "Loading your ass, Jay!" he moaned as his
climax hit another peak.  He grabbed John's hard dick and stroked it madly.

	"I'm gonna nutt!" John warned.  Quickly, Michael pulled out of the
black ass he'd just bred and closed his lips over the swollen black dick
head.  The black anaconda swelled and jerked in his mouth repeatedly.  He
savored the flavor of John's cream, never tiring of how good John tasted.
Even after the jets of warm sperm ceased, Michael continued to nurse on the
massive black pole until it was close to flaccid.  Even at that size, it
was more than 7" long and thick as an air freshener can.  Michael was sure
that John got a lot of looks in the showers at the seminary as well as when
he was in high school and at the university.  He knew that he did, too.
But, John was still hung bigger when he was totally soft.  John had hinted
that his big dick was an embarrassment in high school.  But, when he got to
the university, he was a star and every gay man on campus wanted that big
dick.  That's when he discovered he didn't like being just a piece of meat.
He wanted a connection.  He'd never found one until he'd met Michael.


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