Alone Among the Ruins

Disclaimer: It is, in most cases, illegal as well as immoral and unethical to disturb or interfere with Indigenous relics or remains. As a First Nation Person myself, I would never actually disrespect my Ancestors' Spirits in any such manner. This is a work of fiction in its entirety---

I moved to New Mexico a few years ago but was still discovering many of those places and sites that make it the Land of Enchantment. Every weekend that I could, I would try to get away to hike into the wilderness. There were vast stretches of the territory that anglo feet had probably seldom, if ever, walked on. Long swathes of narrow canyons, branching from more well known and 'popular' historic sites offered new and apparently untouched petroglyphs with puzzling signs I could try and decipher. Or cliffside dwellings that seemed to have been undisturbed since their occupants departed. Equally exciting was finding an old farm house or barn to explore and see what, if any, treasures the owners (and subsequent scavengers) had left behind.

Some treasures lined the walls and windows of my home. A collection of old glass telephone insulators in different shapes and colors, as well as random small bottles ranging in color from darkest amber to palest blue and green scattered small rainbows of light across the walls of my home from their shelves on my windows. An aged and crackled silver backed hand mirror rested on my vanity and a nearly intact wash bowl and matching water pitcher were treasures found in an old mining town. You never knew what you might actually find. Some things I left where they lay -- they were valuable collectibles to some folks but I had no desire for them. Old rusted wagon wheels, barrels and buckets could stay where they were.

Today I was headed down a narrow arroyo. Technically you could say I was hiking I guess but it was more of a leisurely stroll. I didn't have any set distance or destination in mind -- no goal I needed to reach. I was simply walking for the joy of it and for the pleasure of whatever I encountered or discovered. I was enjoying the antics of a roadrunner who was hunting along one side of the ravine. Listening to the chirping of birds and insects while staying alert for the telltale buzz that would warn me away from more bad tempered desert dwellers. There were times I would simply stop and enjoy the scenery around me. A family group of coyotes on the high bank watched me warily while a trio of pronghorns simply showed me their backsides and skipped merrily away.

As I came around a bend, the arroyo opened in front of me, emptying into a high, wide canyon. At the base of the closer escarpment there were some interesting looking petroglyphs and I spent some time trying to decipher the possible meaning of farming and hunting images. But other images were more esoteric and impossible to decipher the meaning of.

Glancing up I realized from the position of the sun that the day was nearly half gone. Soon I'd have to return to where I'd parked my jeep, or find a place to camp for the night. Camping out wouldn't be an issue. I'd done it before and carried enough supplies to manage a night or two. But it wasn't generally my first choice. Desert dwellers have a tendency to look for warm places to curl up at night -- like inside a sleeping bag next to a human. It made early morning wake ups a little more exciting than I liked on occasion, although I had to admit -- lizards and bull snakes were not a problem. I objected to tarantulas on personal grounds but they were relatively harmless too. But waking up and shaking a rattle snake out of the foot of the sleeping bag had kept me out of the desert for weeks!

Regardless, looking up at the stone wall above me I was excited to see the remains of an ancient pueblo. There were carved out hand and footholds and even some cut in steps at one point. It didn't look terribly high and I felt confident that I could manage the climb easily. I gathered a little wood and tethered it securely to my pack, making sure it didn't impede my reach if I had to make a grab for my snake stick -- a forked branch that I could use to hold certain snakes and other undesirables at bay. I had a quick handful of trail mix and a little water and began to climb.

By the time I reached the main cavern level with the pueblos I was hot and sweaty. Tossing down my pack I stripped off my T-shirt and sports bra. The cool wind immediately caused my nipples to harden and sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine. On a whim I stripped off my shorts and underwear as well, spreading out my sleeping bag to sit on while I cooled down. I had another handful of trail mix and water. Water was most of the weight I carried but vitally necessary in this climate, even outside of the intense summer season. I sat while I cooled, enjoying the view and appreciating the wisdom of the design, incorporating a mostly northern exposure, I could see tool marks where the original cavern had been enlarged to accommodate their living spaces. They were sheltered from above against the weather and protected from the worst of the summer sun and heat, but gained some passive solar heat late fall, through the winter and into early spring. The homes were generally small with few rooms. Usually a central chamber for cooking, eating, socializing and work and one or possibly two more chambers for sleeping for the family. I wanted to explore a bit before I lost the light, which from the length of the shadows might be fairly soon.

I set up camp quickly, laying out my wood for a fire later, and hoping I could find more scrap wood that I could burn as I explored. Most of the residences had to be entered from the roof and few, if any, ladder remnants remained. Those that did seemed shaky at best and at worst a quick ticket to broken bones and a slow death. One building actually had steps built into the inner wall and I was able to carefully ease my way down into the interior. It was, I guessed, a residence, located on the outer wall of the pueblo. It had, most unusually, a small window with a fairly clear view of the distant cliff wall. There was a fair amount of clutter left in the main room and I used my snake stick to gingerly poke through it, searching for firewood primarily, but I caught a bright glimpse of yellow white and bent closer to look, using the stick to pull the object toward me.

My mouth almost fell open in surprise at what I'd uncovered. It appeared to be an ancient dildo and I picked it up to wipe it off and look at it closer. It seemed to have been carved from bone or possibly ivory but was obviously the valuable possession of a wealthy woman. The overall length was nearly a foot as closely as I could estimate and the base, or handle, had been skillfully carved to resemble a laughing man, reaching down to hold his gigantic erection. The dildo portion was easily six or seven inches long and big enough around for my hand to circle it...just. It was a nice size toy - quite detailed with retracted foreskin and it was smooth and silky to the touch. Along the back curve were a series of pea sized bumps that would have rubbed over the owner's G-spot very nicely. In short, it was a lovingly crafted toy for a much loved woman and I'm sure she had treasured it.

It was beginning to get dark inside so taking the ancient toy with me I headed back out to my camp, grabbing a few easy to reach sticks I found along the way. Settling down on my sleeping bag, I carefully examined the artifact I held in the remaining sunlight. My imagination was racing -- filled with possible stories and visions of those who made and used the sex toy. To be honest, my own pussy had grown warm and wet between my imagination and handling the dildo. Taking a couple baby wipes from my pack I cleaned the ancient ivory, carefully freeing it from dirt and grit. I still couldn't tell if it was actual ivory or bone. It had the mellow hue and silky feeling of old ivory, without any of the splintering evident that you might find in bone. It seemed to hold an intrinsic warmth and I nestled it between my breasts momentarily.

In the last of the waning sunlight I gathered the fire wood, laid my campfire and grabbed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from my pack. Over time, I'd found that, silly as it might seem, that combination afforded me a good boost of protein and carbs and enough sustenance to hold me all day or overnight as needed, so I always carried several sandwiches with my trail mix, granola and as much water as I could haul. A pack of baby wipes provided for my sanitary needs and I carried one or two grocery store plastic bags to carry out my trash and waste. I tied my sleeping bag to my pack and also had my yoga mat rolled and tied on the side. I could use it to sit on, for yoga or as a mat under my sleeping bag on especially rocky soil. This surface seemed more like hard packed dirt but it was relatively smooth and should be adequate for sleeping after the fatigue caused by my earlier climb. Using another baby wipe I washed up after my meal, saving it until after I'd peed so I could clean myself. Settling back down on my pallet I watched the disappearing sunlight and the growing shadows. A coyote set up a lonesome call in search of a mate, and I pulled my find to me again.

Laying back I ran the prick thoughtfully across my neck and chin, before opening my lips to gently suck the head. Letting my tongue swirl over the ridged surface I wondered about the original owner and whether she had done this as well. I felt a distinct kinship with this unknown woman from centuries ago. The phallus in my hand tied us together in spirit if not in fact, and in my imagination I could feel the object heating to my body temperature. I ran the wet head over my nipples and the night breeze drew my tits up sharply -- taut and pebbled. I pinched one, my thumb and fingers mimicking someone suckling me and with my other hand I slowly rubbed the cock head around and over my swollen clit.

My cunt was swollen and wet, empty and waiting to be filled with the length of ivory I held. I didn't keep it waiting long, sliding the shaft deep inside me. I was right about those little pea sized bumps -- they were the perfect size and shape for hitting my G-spot as I slid the shaft in and out. I fucked myself slowly at first, wondering if the owner -- if she -- had pleasured herself, or had someone else used the device on her. That was an arousing vision as I wondered what man, or woman, had loved her and teased her to satisfaction. Was it a spouse or a lover, a servant or companion? Was she married, widowed or single - perhaps a shaman or chief? So many possibilities for pleasure and loving.

My own excitement and arousal was growing as my imagination took flight and I began to thrust faster, lifting my hips in order to fuck the cock as it fucked me. I was pinching and twisting my nipple harder now, the pleasure running like lightning directly to my cunt. Pulling the dildo from my dripping hole, I slid it fiercely between my labia, the bumps and ridges stimulating my clit unbearably and I felt the spasms of a first orgasm hit. It felt good, but I knew I could go higher and sliding the prick back into my cunt I began to fuck myself hard, pressing firmly against my G-spot as the shaft passed over it. My thighs were trembling and my hips were rocking up to meet my hand and I was feeling an intense and growing pressure. I realized I was chanting a low mantra of 'fuck, oh fuck, fuck me, oh fuck...' and I bit my bottom lip in order to stop. Taking my hand off my breast I used my fingers to begin pinching and milking my clit and that sent me over the edge. My cries of pleasure were echoed by the coyotes and I felt as if I was spiraling down from the high ledge to the canyon floor. I wouldn't have been surprised to find that I had in fact.

It took all my effort to cover myself for sleep. The toy lay damp between my thighs. I never made my fire and if snakes or scorpions had crawled into the sleeping bag with me, I couldn't have summoned the energy to care. I slept dreamlessly until birdsong in the predawn woke me. I masturbated again, and once again had an intense orgasm. Getting up I finally lit my fire, sitting near the warmth of the flickering light in the early morning chill. I dressed and sat holding the ancient dildo for some time, watching the flames as the morning light grew stronger. I had few thoughts, only a growing certainty. As soon as the light was clear enough, I went back to the residence, I'd found the object at. I took care to rebury it deep in the pile of clutter and pottery shards that had remained behind. I didn't know why the owner hadn't taken it with her when they left the pueblo. Or why she hadn't been buried with such a valuable and treasured belonging. I only knew that it didn't belong to me. I had been permitted to share in the pleasure briefly, but that was all, and I left it where I had found it, leaving the high pueblo and returning home the way I had come.