This is not my usual kind of story. My dear friend Flubber and I have collaborated to create the tale of a thirty-something female archaeologist, and her adventures on an expedition to Egypt.
This story is exactly that, a story, a novella. It contains some very embarrassing nudity and a bit of masturbation, as well as a little girl-girl kissing.
But there is no porn in this story! If you're looking for porn, please look elsewhere, you'll find lots of it here on Literotica. But if you'd like to read an adventure story, something along the lines of Indiana Jones, please read on.
This story was inspired by Andy McDermott's novels about the accomplished archaeologist Nina Wilde, and her husband Eddie Chase. These novels are particular favorites of both Bobbie Kaye (Cutie), and her friend Flubber.
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California Cutie and the Temple of the Fertile Womb
By Bobbie Kaye (Cutie) & Flubber
Chapter 1
Cutie immediately noticed three things when her mind finally regained consciousness.
One was the relentless pounding taking place inside her skull. Which in turn caused her, with what felt like a monumental effort, to bring her arm up and lay it across her face in hopes of blocking any light from filtering through her eyelids and aggravating her headache further...although she thought it unlikely that her head could possible hurt any more than it did at this moment.
The second was that it was unbearably hot in the room. She knew that if it was this hot now, she had overslept, meaning the sun had been up for at least several hours, putting her way behind for her planned excursion into the vast Egyptian desert this morning.
The third was the realization that she was completely naked. Sleeping in the buff was not necessarily unusual at home, whether alone or with a lover, but she could not recall ever having done so while on one of her archeological quests, as she was on now. Then again, it hurt too much to think right now, so maybe that wasn't as true as she'd like to believe.
Cutie lay there for quite some time, knowing she needed to get up, but her body was not cooperating in the slightest. She felt lethargic, more so than she could ever recall. With no other options at the moment, she tried to construct the events of the prior night in her mind with hopes of discovering how she came to be in such sorry shape this morning...
Chapter 2
The town she was in was called El Nerfu, an insignificant blip on the map two hundred miles southwest of Alexandria that only existed due to the small ore mining operation located there. The town was mostly made up of miners, but occasionally it housed archeologists such as herself on their way to and from dig sites, the sporadic caravan crossing the desert, or as a place of refuge for those suddenly caught in the fierce sandstorms that could sometimes last days out here in the immense western desert. With most of the archeological work concentrated in eastern Egypt, there were only a few other excavation teams in town, which suited her just fine, as that meant there were fewer people that may recognized her or to take interest in what she was doing there.
She'd spent the evening downstairs from her hotel room in the local cantina called
The Camel's Hump
, aptly named as it was the last watering hole for hundreds of miles in any direction, so if you didn't stock up on water here, you weren't going to make it very far.
Normally before setting out on a routine dig, she would be spending the time in her room going over notes and planning out her schedule down to the smallest detail. But this was no routine dig, and she was far too excited to be cooped up in her room on the eve of what might be her greatest discovery yet.
This was her fourth trip here, and hopefully her last. The three previous times she had been here looking for the same site, however she had come up empty. But she was sure this time she would find what she came here for (conveniently forgetting that she had been just as sure the previous times as well).
She sat at the bar with her back to the "entertainment", or she should say what passed for it in this town. It was some god awful band with a lead singer who couldn't seem to keep in rhythm with the music and had a voice so raspy that it could only come from smoking several packs of cigarettes a day. She didn't expect they could book the likes of Katy Perry or Taylor Swift, but there had to be someone better. Heck, she'd even be willing to listen to Vanilla Ice if he showed up. 'Not like he probably had a lot of gigs right now anyway, and he could probably use the cash,' she thought. And out here in the middle of nowhere, where no one knew him and most didn't speak English, he might actually do well!
She wasn't really here for the music anyway, she just came for the tequila. Well, it wasn't really tequila, but something similar she had discovered on her last visit here. She could only read a few words on the label so she wasn't exactly sure what was in it, but it was surprisingly good, and she didn't mind helping herself to a second bottle when she drained the first one faster than expected.
Turning around on the barstool, she scanned the room while sipping from her bottle. The room was evenly split between locals and those from different archeological parties. The locals in the establishment were all men and appeared to be miners enjoying their off hours by smoking, drinking, and playing games such as Seega, Mancala, and Dominoes, the only pastimes that seemed to be available in this desolate town.
The archeological teams were easy to spot. The ones coming in from the field were well-tanned and weary looking, anxious to be returning home. They mostly sat in small groups, chatting quietly amongst themselves. The groups just going into the field were much more boisterous, excited to be there. They had not gotten their tans yet from working in the open desert and stood out amongst the crowd. Most were what looked to be grad students, probably on their first dig, eager to get into the field and unearth something of vast importance that would bring fame and fortune. She hated to burst their bubble, but they would be little more than cheap labor on the trip, cataloging items, carrying supplies, and doing chores around the camp, just as she had done when she was in their position. If there were any grand discoveries to be made, they accolades would be going to their professors, with nary a mention of them.
As she sat there observing the crowd, she sensed someone sit down at the barstool beside her. Cutie let out a sigh and waited for the inevitable pick up line to be used on her, knowing that was their intention, otherwise they would have picked one of the many other empty stools at the bar. This was the fourth time someone had approached her already this evening. While usually one for small talk, and possibly a little flirting if she was in the right mood, she really didn't feel up to it tonight. She just wanted to enjoy her drink... now drinks... in peace, and then retire to bed early--alone, much to her suitors' dismay.
The first two gentlemen to hit on her were both professors setting out on archeological digs and a conservative estimate would put each at least fifteen years her senior. They tried to impress her with stories of their past exploits in the field, what papers they had published, and awards they had been granted. Cutie politely, but firmly, dismissed them, making it clear she was not interested this evening, or any other for that matter. Both had gone off in a huff.
The third had been a still wet-behind-the-ears grad student. He was cute, but too young and cocky for her taste. Having no accomplishments to impress her with, he tried a couple of pick up lines that she was honestly offended that he thought they could possibly work on her. She wondered if they worked on the college girls wherever he was from back in the States, and if so, her respect for future ladies following in her footsteps diminished just a bit. She told him if he wanted companionship, go hit on one of the girls in the digging parties his own age in the cantina, but this thirty-six year old woman didn't want his company. He seemed honestly surprised when she stated that she wasn't ten years younger, which did make Cutie feel good for a moment.
He, however, wasn't understanding her lack of interest, even though she had made it crystal clear. He babbled on for a few minutes, in which she completely ignored him. It wasn't until he made a comment about "How come all you cougars always have to act so hard to get?" that she paid him any attention.
Without hesitation, she whirled around on her barstool to face him. Cutie's foot came up, and her work boot connected squarely between the surprised grad students legs, dropping him to the floor in a fit of agony. Others in the bar seemed to notice, but no one came to his aid. She'd like to have said the band didn't even miss a beat, but they seemed to miss about every other one--though she didn't think her actions had anything to do with it. Before the young man could recover, the owner of the cantina, Babafemi, stepped out from behind the counter and picked the young man up off the floor. The barkeep was a large man, nearly as wide as he was tall and probably in his mid-fifties, and Cutie had gotten to know him well over her four trips here to El Nerfu. He not only supplied knowledge of the surrounding area, but provisions as well for her explorations, including food, water, tools, and a jeep.