Yucatecan Adventure

On one of many trips to the Yucatan to satisfy my interest in ruins of the Maya, my co-traveler friend and I found our way to Xpujil - then off the beaten track and barely excavated.

The jungle was hot as anything that day.

With us was a young Mayan we'd picked up (that being our bent) on the outskirts of Campeche. He stood about 5'5" and possessed hairless skin the color of that in some Mayan murals.

Friend Bill was in a snit about something and wandered away, climbing over some rough rocks and roots on the right to go off on his own. We two remained.

To avoid Bill’s ill-temper, the Mayan and I decided to walk around the left tower (more ruined then than now) where, after clambering over piles of blocks in disarray we discovered a passage around on the tower's leftmost side. Inside, we were astonished to find steps leading up inside to light. Know, please, that there are virtually no interior flights of steps inside Maya structures. The kid, eyes agleam with mystery, whispered that this must have been a Mayan secret. 

In the stagnant, stifling humidity, he shed his T-shirt and tucked it in a pocket.

Up the steps, we came into a small room with a crude window overlooking a walled space below (not visible from the facade) in the direction of the central tower. Two stones in the room's center supported a third to form – unmistakably – an altar. We were so excited by this novelty because, as our horseplay determined, the altar top was not at the usual height but sufficiently low that he could be bent over it, his arms able to reach the other side.

With a hand on his jeans, I managed in my broken Spanish to convey that it must have been reserved for secret ceremonies between a priest and his acolyte (chancing upon "acolito" - which was the right word!). He didn't move, but gazed toward the light.

It was easy to open and slip down his beltless pants to reveal the bare beauty of a hairless butt. With sweat and spit and without a word of protest from him, I made it in a few inches. His fingers were extending and retracting, so I waited until they weren't. The next several, aided by more spit, were reflected in similar flexings of his hands.

Not wanting to spoil my good fortune, I began what he later called privately "un momento sagrado" and managed bring us both off. Finished, we dripped perspiration.

Bill's voice came from a distance hollering that he was ready to go and for us to "get back here - now!"

We scrambled down those steps and rounded the edge of the building to spot Bill standing in the clearing out front. "Where have you been?

I was about to make up something, when the Mayan boy pointed up to the tower and said, clear as day, "Con les dioses." [With the gods.]

TRUE.