Adventures in Egypt

A Near Escape

The journey to Sir Rodgers’s encampment was relatively uneventful. We rode camels, which were slower than the horses I would have preferred (I was still rather anxious to get there and feared what might happen should Marcus arrive first), but Phil insisted camels were better suited to the harsh conditions. We loaded a train of several camels with provisions for the week-long journey, and set out of the city. It was a small party; Phil and I both agreed it should be kept as secret as possible. Consequently, it was just the two of us and a close Egyptian friend of Phil’s: a swarthy, solid young man named Riad.

The first day took us out of Alexandria and further south towards Cairo. We followed the flowing green trail that was the Nile, and gradually the densely packed buildings of the city gave way to fields and small villages. Phil and I admired many of the young men working in the fields or on boats that sailed up and down the river. They wore barely a stitch of clothing, and it was easy to spot a bare ass or girthy penis. We would be sure to point out our favorites, taking care to mention all the lascivious things we would do to them if only we had the opportunity.

I did not fail to notice Riad’s attractive complexion as well. He had dark curls that flowed over his shoulders, and smooth, tanned skin which spread taut over his copious muscles. However, Phil was insistent that Riad was there only for protection and translation. He did not speak to me. In fact, I never heard him speak at all. Phil gave him instructions in English, and he would nod and disappear to do whatever it was that Phil had requested. I was not to disturb Riad on any matter, least of all, with regard to my prurient desires. I was to save all of my libido for Phil, and Phil alone. Phil did not miss any time in taking advantage of the opportunity I offered. We fucked frequently in the tents at night, separated from Riad (who stood guard) by a thin canvas sheet. I could see Riad’s shadow on the wall, and I knew he could see our silhouettes as well. Oftentimes when Phil had me in a particularly compromising position, I would look over to see that Riad’s crotch appeared to be slightly larger than normal, but of course, it could have been a trick of the firelight.

During the day, we rode the camels for hours on end. The bumpy, uneven ride didn’t help my already sore bum, and Phil exacerbated the situation by insisting I wear a butt plug whenever his dick was not inside my hole. The plug kept me at half-mast all the time, and I leaked a steady stream of sticky fluid into my trousers. Whenever we would dismount for food, rest, or a call of nature, my situation was quite apparent. Locals who helped us would smirk, and obscenely grope me to the delight of Phil.

“Look at you, Lewis.” He laughed on the third evening when we dismounted in a small village. “You’re becoming quite the little, white slut boy.” He shoved his hand down the back of my pants and tugged at the plug which was embedded deep within my ass. I moaned, and my hardening dick stained the front of my pants even darker. I saw a pair of villagers laugh at my situation. They spoke briefly to Riad who said something in return, and then they laughed again and disappeared into the maze of alleyways, but not before one of them came from behind and smacked my plump ass.

We had turned away from the Nile now, and were heading ever deeper into the desert. The days seemed hotter, if that was at all possible, and Phil and I were red from the sun. We wore light clothes and a headcover to stay cool while remaining out of sight of the sun’s harmful rays. However, the blazing heat and being trapped on a camel all day only served to make Phil hornier. He fucked longer and more viciously, hardening again almost immediately after he came. I too was mad with lust, his body pumped out sweat and pheromones that combined to make the most intoxicating musk. One whiff of his scent and I would be on my knees begging for him to abuse me in the most wonderful ways.

However, even Phil’s famously unquenchable lust seemed no match for my endurance. Quite regularly after Phil would fuck me into oblivion, thrusting his cock into both my mouth and my anus, and cumming multiple times, I would be left rock hard and ready for rounds 4, 5, and 6 long after Phil had fallen asleep. The first couple times, I had simply wanked myself to orgasm, rolled over, and lain awake until exhaustion finally took hold of me. But I eventually decided this would not do. Riad might be our bodyguard, but he certainly would focus a lot better with a pair of drained balls. And I was more than willing to help drain them.

I first had to ensure that Phil was asleep. Luckily for me, he was a very heavy sleeper. A marching band would have been hard-pressed to wake him. But still, I had to be one-hundred percent certain he would not be startled by the ecstatic cries I hoped to elicit from Riad. Phil slept naked. I introduced him to the tradition that I had learned from the gorgeous Tad on the train to Istanbul. Not to mention, the desert heat here was so oppressive that sleeping in any clothing would have been torture.

He sprawled face down on his cot. I crawled up next to him, and sat there for a moment staring at him. Phillip Huntington was not beautiful. Not like the Arab god, Riad, who I intended to desecrate presently. Not like the muscle-bound military man, Tad. Definitely not like the cherubic Harold. Phil was, to be frank, short, slightly pudgy around the middle, and balding. But it was his fierce sexuality I admired, rather than his aesthetic appearance. I leaned towards his bum, which was on full display and coated in a light blond fur. Sticking my nose close to his hairy crack, I took a long whiff of his musk that excited me so much. My penis throbbed harder and dribbled a little bit of precum onto Phil’s back. I quickly licked it up, then returned to his ass. I grabbed hold of each cheek, spread them wide, and placed my face in the space between. I took time to enjoy his scent and heat, and felt my cock harden rapidly. The experience was having a similar effect on Phil as well. I noticed a tiny pearl on the edge of his foreskin. The head was beginning to peek out a little and I leaned down and lapped up all the precious juice that he spilled. Then, I dragged my tongue down the length of his prick to his heavy, sagging balls. I kissed each one carefully, then moved a little further to his taint. I again, took my time to minister to that area of Phil’s body, before moving to the grand prize: his furry bottom. I slurped and bit each cheek greedily, inhaling his aroma. Then I spread them apart to expose his pink, pulsing hole. I blew on it gently and felt Phil stir in his sleep. Then I dove in, licking and biting every bit of his exposed flesh. I kissed his rosebud and traced my tongue up and down the crack, gently probing until the sheets beneath Phil’s cock were soaked with precum; Phil was still sound asleep. I squeezed his ass cheeks hard as I shoved my thick, muscular tongue deep inside his hole. That was all it took. With a mighty sigh, Phil exploded onto the bed completely unconscious of my violation. I quickly cleaned up the errant semen and smiled. I was fully horned up and ready to move on to the main course of the evening: Riad’s thick member.

Riad was, as expected, pacing attentively around our small campsite. My plan was simple: to creep out of the tent as if summoned by a call of nature, to take care of business in front of Riad all the while allowing him to get a close look at my penis and arse, and finally: to allow him to fuck me into oblivion.

I loosed the tent flap and crawled out onto the sand, which was still warm from the blazing Egyptian sun. Riad started and turned toward me, pistol raised, but relaxed when he saw it was me. He looked bored. I smiled at him and spoke:

“Sorry, old chap. Just got to take a piss.” 

He shrugged and returned to pacing. Frowning, I took a couple steps to the side of the tent, and grabbing hold of my semi-hard penis (I was still stark naked from my previous nighttime romp with Phil), aimed it at the ground and let loose. As I pissed, I glanced at Riad out of the corner of my eye. He had stopped pacing, and although he tried to avoid my gaze, I could tell he was definitely staring. I stepped closer into the firelight and made a big show of shaking off the final droplets of piss. My dick reacted accordingly, and it wasn’t long before I began to wank my hard member in front of the handsome Arab. He no longer tried to hide his interest. I glanced at his crotch and, although his loose trousers made it difficult to tell for certain, I was confident the bulge was larger than it had been previously. I removed one hand from my cock and let it roam up and down my nude form, teasing and stroking my entire body. I moaned and a dollop of precum dripped from my prick. Riad began to massage his own tool through his pants. It progressed like this for several long minutes before I decided I was tired of waiting. I walked directly up to Riad and grabbed his bulge. Riad froze, and a sudden flash of fear went through me. Had I entirely misjudged his intentions? But this thought was immediately quelled as he fell to his knees and took my cock in his mouth.

I moaned in ecstasy as Riad’s talented mouth worked my horned up manhood. His lips were incredibly soft as they worked my cock in the most obscene ways. I laughed a little bit to myself as I drew ever closer to ejaculation. Of course Phil would choose only the most submissive man to assist him on his journey. It was unlikely I would taste Riad’s cock, and even more improbable I would feel it penetrate my backside. However, I was quite content to have him service me with his mouth. He certainly was talented. His hands were velvety smooth and strong and it wasn’t long before my seed coated his lips and the back of his throat. I leaned down and kissed him hard, then returned to the tent to sleep.

The next morning we awoke before the sun rose. After a quick breakfast, we packed the camels and set off again into the desert. Riad had resumed his practice of ignoring me and speaking only to Phil, and Phil seemed to have no knowledge that his guide had given me an excellent blowjob a mere four hours ago. I had very little hope I would be able to repeat the adventure, but I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to try.

We were close to Sir Rodgers’s excavation: only a day, by Phil’s estimation. He suspected we would arrive around lunchtime on the next day. We had left even the smallest farms and villages behind and now were sojourning through lonely dunes that stretched as far as the eye could see. I was amazed that Sir Rodgers had been able to locate anything at all in this wasteland, let alone one of the most anticipated archaeological finds of the century.

The rest of the day progressed in a relatively uneventful manner. We halted for lunch around noon, then continued our journey until the sun was hanging too low in the sky for us to properly navigate. Dismounting, we set up camp, and I was on my knees servicing Phil before we had even finished dinner. Riad was off doing some scouting, but I smiled to myself as my lips were wrapped around Phil's hefty phallus, looking forward to the moment tonight when Riad would be in my position, pleasuring my cock. I eagerly swallowed more of Phil's meat and guzzled down all the sweet cream he spilled. Riad was back, and I made sure to make eye contact with him as I slurped up and down Phil's rod, cleaning off the remainder of his cum. Riad looked away, shyly, but there was no mistaking the dark spot of wetness in his trousers.

When Phil finally had fallen asleep, I crept out of the tent to find Riad waiting on his knees. Eagerly, he grabbed at my crotch, and in an instant, I found myself balls-deep in his throat. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of his sweet, beautiful face scrunched up in excitement as he aggressively deepthroated my penis. I sighed as he withdrew, and gently kissed the head, tickling my testicles with the tips of his fingers. I moaned and felt them retract, on the verge of orgasm, but Riad cleverly decreased the stimulation such that I was paralyzed on the edge of maximum pleasure. It continued like this until I was practically begging for release. It was at this crucial moment we heard a crash from inside the tent. Riad was on his feet in an instant, reaching for his pistol, when we heard a gunshot. We both ran to the structure and ripped open the canvas flap that acted as a door. Phil stood, nude, holding a smoking weapon that was pointed at a mysterious person lying prone on the floor. The figure was dressed entirely in black linens, with a cloth covering his face. Phil swore.

“This fucker damn near tried to kill me! Luckily, he’s a pretty poor combatant. I knocked him out quite handily.”

“Are you alright?” I cried. “We heard a gunshot!”

“Yes. The gun ignited in the scuffle. You can see where the bullet went.” Phil pointed to a tiny hole in the canvas roofing of the tent. “Now let’s see who this cad is, shall we?” And Phil pulled away the cloth from the man’s face.

I gasped. “It’s Marcus Calloway!”

“That slimy bottom from Istanbul?” Phil guessed.

“That’s the one!”

“What’s he doing here?”

I shook my head and wrinkled my brow. “I have no idea. But at least it means he hasn’t made it to Sir Rodgers yet.”

“Not that we know of…” Phil stroked his chin. “Riad!”

The silent man came forward and nodded.

“Please restrain Mr. Calloway here. If he comes to before we’ve seen him, feel free to knock him out once again.” Phil then turned to me. “And you had better not distract Riad this time, alright?”

I turned bright red, and Phil began to laugh. “Don’t try to deny it; where else could you have been?”

I stammered blankly and Phil interrupted me again.

“Get to sleep. We’ve got much bigger things to think about than your libido.”

And thus, to bed, though I fear I did not sleep a wink. Had Marcus already made it to Sir Rodgers? If so, what was his motive for coming here? There were still so many unanswered questions. I hoped we would get some of them tomorrow morning.

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