Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

"I didn't see your dig reported anywhere. And I looked in a lot of media sources for it."

It was evening and we'd had dinner out under the stars. It looked like we were going to be doing a lot of things under the stars. There were tents, in two circles, but except for the communal tents and Sir Bentham's, they didn't look too commodious. We—Geoffrey Bentham; his French colleague, Perrin Tolbert; and I—were sitting around a fire pit in the circle of our tents and the communal ones. The Mandinka workers were in the circle of tents that met our circle at a tent assigned to Tejon Darany. Tejon and Modibo were still in our circle, passing out after-dinner drinks and cigars. The rest of the Mandinka were in their circle. Drums were softly playing, matched by low chanting by male voices. Some of the tents were lit up internally, casting shadows through thin material of what was inside. All very atmospheric. I was in Africa. The sky overhead was a cobalt blue, the stars seemingly suspended just a few feet over our heads.

"I should hope to God you didn't see mention of this dig—or tell anyone you're coming here," Bentham blustered. "This is really hush hush. There are few in the Mali government who know about it either."

Bentham was sitting within fondling distance of me, which I sort of expected him to have gotten around to doing before now. He was my dominating top when I was at Oxford after the war. And he was a power top with perhaps the biggest dick in England. He had to fist me just to be able to screw me later.

But I had to admit that the last five years, since I'd seen him last, hadn't been kind to him. He was gaunt and looked emaciated. And he had a wildness about his eyes and spoke more rapidly than I'd known him to do before—like he was on borrowed time. How old would he be now, I wondered. Funny that I hadn't wondered about that when we were together in Oxford. He'd said a few times then that he was twice my age. But now it seemed like maybe that was off, like he was more than twice my age. He looked well into his late sixties now.

But then, maybe he was waiting for the others—the Mandinka servants and his colleague, Tolbert—to leave us before he became intimate with me.

"So, what is it about this dig that's so secret and important, Geoffrey?" I asked. "I trust that, since it's close to the river, the site is buried."

"Tejon, go fetch the treasure box, please. Then you and Modibo may retire," Bentham said. Then he turned to me. "You've heard of the writer named Rihlah, haven't you, Kyle?"

"I believe so. The Arab who traversed northern Africa early in the fourteenth century and wrote of his travels."

"The same. He wrote of a Temple of Kongoba, but although there is a village by the name—just over the hill there—no one but he wrote about a temple."

"And you have found the temple site?"

"The site, yes, but I don't think it actually was a temple. More of a storehouse. I don't think the Malian guides leveled with him when he asked what the edifice was."

"Storing what?"

"What is Mali famous for? What was its leading trading good during the Mali Empire? Do you know?"

"You think that gold was stored at this Kongoba site?"

"Not was. Is. Ah, thank you, Tejon. I'll just show our colleague here what we have and then you can take it back."

Bentham opened the rectangular box that was more than a foot long and took out a solid gold rod. It was nearly a foot long, an inch and a half wide up the base, and a good three inches or more at the bulb.

"A dildo?" I said, with a laugh. "Is this a supersized phallus?"

"A dildo perhaps," Bentham said, smiling, "but look again. You of all people should recognize what it is."

I drew in my breath. It wasn't a phallus at all. It was a stylized arm rising up into a fist.

"Is that?" I asked with a stammer.

"Yes, I believe this is an ancient dildo in the form of an arm and fist," Bentham said. "Tejon thinks so too. There are rituals among the Mandinka that go back to that era. They are, as you can see, an outsized race—outsized in nearly every way. Many of their rituals were sexual. Thank you, Tejon. You and Modibo can retire now."

I watched the two, swathed in billowy cloth, walk to Tejon's tent. Bentham had said they were outsized in every way and my mind was savoring what that could mean. Not in every way, I would have said. As with all men, I had assessed the knuckle span of both of the Mali tribesmen when they had met me at the plane. Both had slender hands and were within my tolerances.

I watched them go into the tent and one of them light a lantern and illuminate the interior of the tent, making it a form of shadow play as their figures moved about the tight space, both of them having to bend over for head clearance.

"Where did you get the gold object?" I asked. I thought it would be unprofessional to refer to it as a dildo, although that quite obviously was what it was.

"Where do you suppose? Right here, where we're digging. This could be from the golden trove of the Mali Empire." He had put his arm around me, and a hand went to my thigh. I looked over at the Frenchman, and he was watching us. "I wanted to share this discovery with you, Kyle," he said, and then he brought my head in for a kiss.

Tolbert had his eyes on us but didn't flinch. Of course he would have been told what Bentham and I had been to each other.

I opened my lips to him. I wouldn't deny Geoffrey anything he wanted of me. He was my mentor, my first serious lover. A man with a cock that filled me to near bursting. A man who knew how to use his fist.

"I've missed you, Geoffrey," I whispered when he'd released my lips and I'd immediately kissed him back to signal total submission. He moved his hand to my basket. I was happy to be able to show him that I was hard for him.

"How is it with Miranda?" he asked gently.

"Oh, you know Miranda. It's much like always. Affectionate in public. Beyond that, you'd have to ask Veronica."

"She's still with Veronica?"

"Yes," I answered. I didn't have to guard my voice from bitterness. I was glad Miranda had someone and mostly left me alone.

"And you, Kyle. Who are you with?"

"I'm with you at the moment," I said.

"I meant back in England. Have you not found someone else? Someone who takes care of your needs?"

"No one measures up to you, Geoffrey," I answered, knowing he would know what I meant as well as I did.

"It pains me to hear you say that, Kyle."

"I'm sorry. What do you mean by that?"

"I'm old and I'm sick, Kyle. I couldn't get it up anymore no matter what drug I took. I was hoping that you had found someone who satisfied you. I didn't want you coming down here thinking that that was why I sent for you."

A man that satisfied me? I was satisfied last night. But that was just a transient Italian. Neither one of us talked about anything that wasn't fleeting and casual. And damn right I'd come down here expecting more—what I'd gotten before—from Geoffrey Bentham. Why else would I come to a place like Mali?

"I asked you to come down so that you could be in on this find with me—so that you could benefit from it. It's all I can leave you Kyle. But I invited Perrin down too. I think you'll enjoy him."

I looked over at the Frenchman. He indeed was a hunk. Maybe thirty-five. Old enough to control and teach me a move or two. But I had looked at his hands earlier in the evening. I always look at the hands of a man who attracted me. The two Mandinka tribesmen, Tejon and Modibo had elongated, slim hands, in keeping with the elongated nature of the rest of their bodies that I had viewed. The Frenchman's hands were broad, at least four, maybe more, inches across at the knuckles. I could never . . .

But then, at Geoffrey's signal, Tolbert was bringing his chair over close to mine, on the other side from Geoffrey. Also at this point, I realized that there was something going on in Tejon's tent. The two figures, made quite clear in silhouette by the lantern light, were standing close together. They just now were pulling the last of the billowy cloth off each other's bodies. They looked like stick figures, even though I knew they both were well muscled. They seemed to be moving to the rhythm of the drums and chanting of the other tribesmen in the other circle too, and I realized that the tent would be as much a shadowbox from the other side as from this one.

The two came together in an embrace and a kiss and then Modibo's body—identifiable because he was shorter—arched back and Tejon went down on his knees, while supporting Modibo's body in standing with an arm around the young native's waist. It was clear that Tejon was giving Modibo head and helping him to remain steady even though arched back, his palms on the dirt floor behind him.

It was equally clear that Perrin Tolbert, bent over my lap, had unbuttoned me, taken my cock out, and was giving me head. Geoffrey had an arm around me and was unbuttoning and releasing my shirt with the other hand. He sucked on my nipples while Tolbert sucked on my cock.

Was this some sort of double ritual, I wondered. But I was too taken up with it to wonder much.

Geoffrey leaned down and pulled my shorts and briefs off my legs.

Modibo was on his back on a cot and for the briefest moment I saw the shadow of a monster cock in length standing straight up from his groin. And standing over him, stroking an even larger one, was the shadow of Tejon.

Geoffrey and Perrin manipulated my body to where my crotch was lying across Geoffrey's lap and my head was in Perrin's lap, where he was offering me a quite large cock to suck. I managed to turn it, though, to where I could watch the shadow scene in the tent.

Tejon wasn't fucking Modibo—at least not yet. Modibo's left leg was on Tejon's right shoulder and his right leg was bent. His pelvis was raised off the leverage of his right foot, and Tejon's left arm was extended down to Modibo's pelvis. He was fist fucking Modibo. The music from the other circle was becoming more frenetic.

I could feel Geoffrey's fingers at my ass entry. They were heavily greased. He was working his hand into my ass.

I cried out as his knuckles breached my rim. My cry was accompanied by one in the tent, where Tejon must have gained his own entry. I panted hard and sucked hard on Tolbert's cock as Geoffrey started to move his hand inside my ass. Expand, release. Expand, release. Working me almost as expertly as the Italian had.

Then I saw in the tent that Modibo was holding up an object in his right hand. It was the Fist of Gold Geoffrey had shown me earlier. His left hand came out of Modibo's ass, and the right arm went down. I watched the gold fist enter Modibo and the young native writhe, crying out as it rhythmically fucked him. I writhed and cried out as Geoffrey fist rhythmically fucked me too. Expand, release.

Modibo and I came nearly simultaneously and the music in the tribal circle beyond stopped abruptly and Geoffrey withdrew his hand. The light went out in the tent. I saw no more, as Tolbert rose from his chair, pulled me up, threw me over his shoulder, and marched me to my tent.

In my tent, Tolbert threw me down on my back on my cot, slapped my legs apart, and came down between them. He thrust his huge cock into my ass, reached up to grab my wrists and force my arms over my head, latched his lips on mine, and banged me hard into heaven and the next day.