My story, THUNDER OF THE GODS, is a product of my imagination, although knowledge of certain aspects of the tale come from my experiences. In its entirety, it is ~ 45,000 words long, so I have chosen to release it in several parts, constituting a total of 19 chapters. This third part, Chapters 4-8, continues the story, with ever increasing erotic situations. The story's evolving sexual situations build towards a bizarre denouement at the end.
Chapter 4
Reluctantly leaving Lake Catemaco and the Tuxtlas, Lacee and Philip were soon in the lowlands surrounding the mountains. By mid-morning they were nearing the port of Coatzacoalcos, which Philip had first visited twenty years ago when it was a busy, but still quaint, seaport town. With the advent of a rapidly expanding oil industry in the mid-seventies, Coatzacoalcos had changed overnight into a filthy boom town, complete with unhealthy air and paralyzing truck traffic. They chose to avoid most of the city, skirting it on the new highway headed for the oilfields of Tabasco. Soon they passed the turnoff to La Venta, once the site of a major Olmec ceremonial center, but now greedily disinterred in the rush for oil.
Philip irately said to Lacee, "the Mexican government proudly proclaims about the relocation of the huge heads and structures from La Venta to a park in the city of Villahermosa, failing in their myopia to realize the travesty involved. The sad part of it is that most tourists are too ignorant to realize what has been lost. They might as well go to Disneyland and look at some sanitized corporate vision of history."
They arrived in Villahermosa in the mid-afternoon, and again Philip was amazed at the transformation of a once peaceful Mexican town into a crazed, sprawling megalopolis. The only good development was the existence of a modern highway that enabled them to traverse the city as quickly as possible. Once beyond Villahermosa, they traveled southeastward through recently deforested lowlands until they reached the small town of Palenque. Until lately accessible only by rail or a dirt road, Palenque, and the famous Maya ruins of the same name, were now serviced by a good paved road, opening the region to thousands of foreign visitors each year. Lacee and Philip took a room in a small, picturesque hotel in the center of the town. Palenque had yet to lose the charm that used to characterize most Mexican towns, and after dinner they wandered about the streets and through the quiet plaza before finally returning to their room for the night. Both were relaxed and exhausted by the day's drive, and they settled gratefully into bed.
"We're in Maya country, now", Philip murmured drowsily as he drew Lacee to him.
"I know", she replied, "I already feel differently. Almost as if we've been welcomed here by the spirits".
Awakened early by the sounds of boisterous street vendors selling an array of tropical fruits, Lacee and Philip lazily stretched and caressed one another before bounding out of bed. Anticipation of their visit to the intriguing ruins propelled them through a shower and breakfast. A short drive of about five miles brought them to the edge of the foothills of the mountains of Chiapas, where the ancient center of Palenque spread out with its back to the rainforested hills. In front lay a panoramic view of the lowlands of Tabasco stretching away to the Gulf of Mexico. It was still early in the day, and at this time Lacee and Philip had the ruins virtually to themselves. They carefully made their way through the various temples and structures, examining the hidden passages and rooms and marveling at the detailed stucco sculptures. They returned to the entrance around lunch to replenish their growling stomachs, afterwards enjoying a short siesta in the bed in the camper.
By mid-afternoon they were back in the ruins, having saved the most famous structure until now. The Temple of Inscriptions, backed up against the rainforest, consisted of nine levels, surmounted by the steep steps that characterized Maya architecture. Nestled inside at the bottom of the pyramid, and reached by a series of once-hidden steps, was the tomb of Lord Shield Pacal, a ruler of Palenque in the sixth century A.D.
Philip explained , "this magnificent tomb was not discovered until 1952, and since then it's become famous for Pacal's ornately carved sarcophagus and the treasure buried with him".
Lacee and Philip made their way to the bottom of the slippery stairs to view the tomb through an iron grating, necessary to prevent vandalism by modern barbarians.
Philip whispered to Lacee in the dim light, "the glimpse of the tomb that I had at Akbalcab reminded me very much of this tomb".
Lacee felt strange viewing Lord Pacal's sarcophagus, and both found themselves anxious to undertake their trek into the Belizean rainforest. Emerging from the tomb in the late afternoon sun, they were pleased to see that the crowds of midday had subsided, leaving them once again almost alone in the ruins. They had visited most of the structures during the course of the day, but they had bypassed the House of the Jaguar, located in the forest on the hill behind the Temple of Inscriptions.
Pointing to it on their map, Lacee said, "this name intrigues me, Philip. Can we visit it before we leave?"
Philip acquiesced, saying, "we should have enough time, and it does have a very special feel about it. I think you'll find it interesting".
As they climbed the steep trail through the forest, Philip noticed that Lacee had once again shed her panties from beneath her short skirt. He couldn't blame her, as his crotch was cool and uninhibited beneath his light khaki shorts and had been all day. The House of the Jaguar proved to be a small temple still in the grip of rambling roots of forest trees, but the stairs and rooms had been partially restored by archeologists. Barely visible in the semi-darkened room at the top was a large carved representation of a recumbent jaguar, its back flattened to form a bench or altar. Slightly winded after the steep climb up the stairs, Lacee and Philip settled down on the jaguar to rest.
As he relaxed with his back against the jaguar's upraised, snarling head, Philip pulled Lacee backwards to rest her head in his lap. Their eyes gradually became accustomed to the gloomy interior and they became aware that they would be invisible to anyone outside the temple, even in the unlikely event that other visitors should arrive. Lacee's short skirt had remained around her waist as she slid downward on the altar, and now exposed an inviting patch of her ebony triangle.