Pharaoh’s Curse Pt. 01

Andrew could only nod as he sat with his back to her. The image of her naked body flashed in his mind as his cheeks heated. No matter what he thought about, the image of his mother's cunt would always make its way back into the fold. This so wasn't like him, he totally wasn't attracted to his mother, yet apparently his cock didn't get the message. What felt like eternity, to him, passed as he sat there waiting for her to get dressed.

"A-Andrew, meal time is normally in an hour, then we'll talk," Alex said, her voice stammering a little. Seeing him nod, "Maybe it was just as weird for him as well?" she asked herself as she pushed passed the insect netting. Her eyes widened as she peered back one last time as she stood in the tent's entrance only to see that proud tent sticking out before him. Quickly hurrying to the main tent that served as their command center so she could assign whomever to whichever grid for the day.

Andrew stared down at his image in the pail. Knowing how weird this morning already was. Shaking of the feeling, he so didn't want to be caught standing nude and looking dumbfounded into a pail of water. Washing the salty residue off his body, and still his cock had yet to return to his slumber. Looking to the front of the tent, watching the flaps wave slightly, his ears strained to hear any noise. He so wasn't about to be caught red handed stroking his meat, especially by his mother. Angling his rod downward, listening to the sound of his jizz striking the side of the pail. Sighing in relief that no one had barged into the tent.

Sending his father a silent thank you for all the linen clothes he had bought for him. Andrew hoped at least with these he wouldn't be so damn hot. His body was frozen as the imagine of his mother's right breast appeared in his head. The way the light played along its curvature, how that single water droplet hung off of her... Shaking his head rapidly to dislodge those thoughts. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" Andrew asked himself. He never once thought of his mother that way. He could understand with Wilma since technically she wasn't even related to him, but his own mother?! It wasn't like he had these thoughts beforehand, so why now? Why now does his mind picture her naked body, the shape of her womanhood, the... "Stop it!" he growled smacking his forehead trying to reassert his dominance over his mind.

"Andrew?" Alex called out to him as she stood out of sight. "Are you decent?"

"Yeah," Andrew said, quickly pulling up his white linen shorts. Praying his little monster wouldn't return for quite some time.

"Have you taken..." Alex's eyes glanced to the pail then to her son as she stepped inside the tent. Watching how his shirt slid down his bare chest.

"Not yet, just finishing getting dressed," Andrew said, digging in his bag for a pair of clean socks.

"I'll take care of it then," Alex said, hurriedly pushing through the insect netting. The water sloshed in the pail. Her eyes were glued to those white gooey streaks on its side. Her nostrils flared as the scent of her own son's cum filled them.

Andrew arched an eyebrow at his mother's odd actions as she walked hurriedly out of the tent. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn't keep his eyes off of her ass as she left. God! He wished there was a door, a wall, a giant boulder where he could bash his head against to try to return his mind back to a normalized state. For this was so not normal, not in the slightest.

Alex's eyes fluttered as she sucked her fingers clean. Her eyes flew open, the pail fell from her grip. Horror laced her gaze as she tasted her son's semen on her tongue. "What have I done!" she roared into her mind. Yet as her eyes fell upon the spot that her son had soaked in his cum she wanted more. She needed to taste it when it was nice and hot straight from the source. How she had missed that taste. She had put everything on hold for her career, to her family, dating, and yes, even sex. This was where she wanted to be, to be the one that unearthed treasures that hadn't seen the light of day for thousands of years. Nonetheless, she couldn't help herself, the scent of her own son's cum was driving her mad with lust. Her breathing quickened, her mound heated, her nipples... "Stop it!" slapping herself across her right cheek to break her train of thought. "That's Andrew you're thinking about!" Alex berated herself. Her head turned at the sound of the dinner bell, sighing hoping those thoughts were only because of her lack of male companionship and not that she wanted to bed her son.

"So... am I to hang out in your tent for the next three weeks?" Andrew asked, as he sat across from his mother as breakfast got under way.

"No," Alex shook her head. "You'll be helping out around here. You do want to eat, don't you?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Like what, digging up the dead, finding long lost jewelry?"

"No," Alex said, suppressing her chuckle. "You don't have the skill or the expertise for that," she said, feeling twelve eyes on her and her son. "You'll be helping me most of the day so I can get what we have unearthed packed and shipped to the museum so the pieces can go through better scientific testing than we can do from here," Alex said. "Is my own son blushing?" Shaking the thought from her mind. She would have thought he would have put up more of a fit, yet Andrew only mumbled an alright. "Bill I want you and Anta to finish with the east wing so we can get the 3D mapper in there without destroying anything we missed. Carla you and Haas will be translating the hieroglyphs in the western wing then when the mapping is done in the eastern wing work on those. Even with the mapper I'd rather have a hard copy before we are forced out of here. Abasi you'll be transporting the crates back into the city. Make sure you aren't too reckless in your driving. Take Akila with you that way I know the pieces will get there safely, and pick up the supplies we need," Alex said, dolling out her orders.

"Yes Professor," all six said in unison.

"You done eating?" Alex asked, watching how her son was pushing around the date on his plate. It seemed Egyptian food didn't sit well with her son.

"Yeah," Andrew muttered. Leaning back as his mother reached across the table. Taking a dry swallow as his mother's shirt allowed him to gaze down the opening. He would like to say that he didn't ogle the top of his mother's braless breasts but that would be a lie.

"Come on Andrew, we have a lot of work to do," Alex said, nudging his shoulder with the butt end of a cold-water bottle once she had placed their plates in the plastic tub allowing the two cooks the museum hired to clean up. It was the same with the nurse. While they didn't interact with them Alex knew they were good people, just desperately in need of the paycheck that came along with such digs. What they were paid for a month of work would in most cases be a year's pay for them. She was acutely aware of her son at her back as she led him towards the main tent. While she was always aware of men's eyes on her, yet she never actually paid attention to them. Although, that didn't seem to be the case where her son was involved. "Stop it Alexandria!" she growled to herself while mentally smacking herself.

"Be sure you put enough straw between the two layers," Alex said, as she worked to catalog what she failed to get to last night. Feeling her lips form into a smile at Andrew's 'Yes mother' as he knelt over the crate he was currently packing. Her head shot up, turning her head as she heard something that she thought she would never hear again. "You remember your hieroglyphics?!" Alex asked in wonder, as Andrew peered up from the small jar in his hand.

"Yeah," Andrew said, diverting his gaze to the tent floor. It wasn't like he didn't try to forget the lessons his mother taught him; however, it appeared every time he went to the museums in New York when his father was out with Wilma those lessons kept coming back as he walked around the exhibits. "I wonder what this guy did though?" Andrew stated to no one in particular.

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, curious. While she couldn't repair the hurt she had caused eight years ago, she hoped they could at least be cordial.

"Here," Andrew said, gingerly holding the small jar towards his mother.

"I see what you mean," Alex muttered as she stared at the space where a name once had been.

"Didn't you tell me they only did that like in the worst-case scenarios. Like that guy -- whomever he was -- that instated that Aten god?" Andrew asked, looking up to the tent's ceiling trying to remember the pharaoh's name.

"Akhenaten," Alex said, she couldn't help but feel some sense of pride that their little lessons she would give him had stuck. "Do you remember his name before he became Akhenaten?"

"Amenhotep... something," Andrew said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Close enough," Alex mused. All the while her heart was elated, wondering what else her son remembered from the time they would hide away in his sheet forts. Her reading to him as he sat in her lap as she taught him the ways of the ancient Egyptians. "I don't know why his name was obliterated... maybe we can find out together?" She prayed that was true as she sat the jar back into his hand.

"Got it all packed up..."

"Professor Sanders!" Anta shouted as she raced towards the main tent.

"What is it?" Alex asked, stepping out into the sun. Listening to the hammer as Andrew nailed the lid closed.

"I think you will want to see this," Anta panted. Her ebony hair glistened in the sunlight.

"Very well, Andrew are the crates ready?" Alex asked, turning to look at her son.

"Yeah," Andrew nodded, wiping his brow, even in the shade it was hot. He couldn't understand how his mother and the others weren't sweating as much as he was.

"Anta go and inform Abasi that the shipment is ready then join us in the eastern wing. Come along Andrew, you might just find this... enlightening," Alex said, the desert wind softly lifted her dark red hair. Her sky-blue eyes followed the movement of his hand as he laid the hammer gently on the table.

"Yes Professor," Anta nodded. Sand billowed up as she turned to run towards Abasi's tent where he had been sleeping off the heat of the day.

"And make sure he knows to check everything on the supply list I sent over!" Alex called out to her as she led Andrew down the sand embankment.

"Okay!" Anta called back.

"Watch your step Andrew," Alex warned as she carefully walked down the thirty-foot embankment.

"Why?"

"Snakes like to hide underneath the sand along with the scorpions to escape the heat," Alex said, peering over her shoulder watching how her son tentatively tested his footing with every step. "Come on slowpoke!" she teased as she stood at the entrance gate to the temple.

"I think you are enjoying this far too much mother," Andrew said, feeling his cheeks heat at his mother's soft giggle.

"I'm not telling," Alex mused, a smirk graced her lips. Her eyes lustered in mischievousness as she led Andrew into the temple proper.

Andrew's eyes widened at the sight before him. The legendary Egyptian blue was so... vibrant, so spectacular, it was breath taking to behold. His mother's hand shot out stopping him from touching it. Fearing that the oils in his skin would damage the paint.

"Look, but don't touch," Alex said, in a stern motherly voice.

Andrew glanced down at his hand as his mother held on to it. Even in all this sand and heat it still felt as soft as he remembered it. It appeared to him that his mother was blushing as she held his hand like she once did when she would take him on what she would call 'mini-expeditions' but in reality they were just to whichever museum caught her fancy. It was only when they reached the entrance of the eastern wing that she let go of his hand.

"Watch were you walk," Alex muttered low. Non-UV lights shone along the walls to help keep the paint as vibrant as they could before the oxidation sat in. When that happened she knew they would have to rely on the photos they had taken to reference what it and many of the other temples, palaces, and monuments must have looked like in ages past. Her eyes flickered down when Bill called to her.

"Professor what do you make of it?" Bill asked, gesturing to the newly uncovered wall.

"Hmm," Alex hummed as she stared up at the image of Bast overseeing the sexual actives of her followers. It wasn't the same Bast everyone knew of. This temple must be far older than she originally thought.

"Man, who would have thought the ancient Egyptians were perverts," Andrew said, peering up at the other wall with his back to his mother. Alex bit down on her lip to keep her mirth contained. "Really?! The guy needed servants to hold his schlong? I mean come on that's just ridiculous. If it was that big wouldn't he like die from blood loss trying to fill... What?" Andrew asked, perplexed as to why they were laughing.

"Bill said almost the same thing," Anta said, flashing Andrew a smile as she entered.

"Great minds think alike, huh?" Bill asked, in a friendly manner.

"Bill don't encourage the boy," Alex said, taking on her teacher persona.

"Boy?! By their standards I'm a middle-aged man," Andrew said, turning his nose up at his mother.

"Oh?" Alex cooed turned to her right. "What kind of middle-age man blushes in a temple, hmm?"

"One that's covered from floor to ceiling in porn!" Andrew said, lifting his arms up mimicking paying homage to the gods.

"Oh, I like the way you think," Bill chuckled.

"Although, who's this Onouphrios?" Andrew muttered. He knew it was a pharaoh's name given the cartouche. He just never heard of the name before.

"Andrew what do you mean?" Alex asked, curious.

"Can I touch?" Andrew asked, peering over his shoulder.

"This one time," Alex relented. Since obviously her own students and herself had missed that very important piece of information. She was just going to chalk that up to their neck break pace to get everything done.

Lowering himself to his knees, feeling his mother standing over him as he gently and ever so carefully brush some of the remaining sand off the wall. "Here," Andrew said, his cheeks heated as his mother lowered her face an inch away from his as her eyes studied the cartouche. He started to rise to get out of her way, yet his mother's hand covered his on the sand covered stone as she lightly ran her brush along the cartouche. Which kept him rooted in place, when he needed the distance especially with what was going on in his head.

"I might just make an archeologist out of you yet," Alex said, her voice full of pride as her eyes glanced over at her son.

"Nah, I like the modern world," Andrew said, looking away.

"Hey," squeezing his hand forcing him to look at her, "I like the modern world too, you know," Alex whispered, her eyes softening as her son looked at her. Now it was her turn to blush, rising to her feet, returning to her students trying to keep her mind off of... things.

"Umm... Alexandria?!" Andrew called out after an awkward thirty minutes of him and his mother avoiding each other.

"You know mother would be the more proper usage," Alex said, as she and Bill translated the wall while Anta wrote down each section. She couldn't look at her son. There was something about him that tugged her into very, very untested waters. Waters that no mother should ever wade into. She just couldn't understand why her mind took her to that place. She couldn't hold back the smile as her son stumbled over his words.

"Well... anyway... just what exactly is this place?" Andrew asked, as he read the hieroglyphs that lined the upper part of the wall. He must be rusty because it certainly couldn't be what he just read. It... just seemed ridiculous.

"A temple, you sure you're the professor's son?" Bill asked, ragging on the boy.

"No, not really, there never was a birth certificate, for all I know I was found in a cabbage patch," Andrew shot back. Anta giggled as Bill's jaw dropped at Andrew's quick retort.

"Just look at him go, I'm so proud," Bill said, wiping away a nonexistent tear. "They grow up so fast."

"You trying to welsh out of that child support?" Andrew asked, getting another jab in.

"Was he always like that?" Anta whispered to her professor.

"The wit? Yes," Alex nodded, causing her dark red hair to bounce. "The sarcasm is new though."

"See, what you miss when you run off for eight years."

"Andrew! Don't!" Alex snapped.

"Yeah, yeah," Andrew said, rolling his eyes.

"So, what is it that you have to interrupt our work?" Alex said, feeling her cheeks heat in her anger.

"Well, I might be rusty, this possibly can't mean what this wall says," Andrew said, hearing his mother sigh.

"Andrew we are busy here, we haven't had time to translate everything."

"Fine. I'll just read it to you then."

"You sure he can read hieroglyphs?" Bill asked, looking over at his professor.

"Since I was seven," Andrew muttered. "The stork has a sh or a ch sound?"

"You've been neglecting your studies," Alex said, in a disapproving teacherly voice. Andrew held his tongue at that. "It's sh by the way."

"Well here goes: From the throne the seated god gazed out upon the lustful masses. From the three hundred and sixty-five wives the god-king shall know joy for each day. Each harvest he shall reap, each sunrise a new woman shall line his bed. Bringing pleasure to his royal body until Apep rises up and swallows the sun regaining his seat in the heavens," Andrew said, he so didn't understand. Especially with the part he left out, he was in no way going to repeat that to his mother.

"You must have read it wrong, there's no..." Bill's voice grew still he read the hieroglyphs that Andrew were pointing at. "So... umm..." clearing his throat returning back to his work.

"That's what I said, but some big important Professor won't listen," Andrew said, peering over his shoulder as Bill whispered the whole translation to his mother. "Better him than me," he muttered to himself. Chuckling aloud as he watch his mother and Anta become red faced.

"Well..." Andrew tried not to notice how hard his mother's nipples were as she walked over to his side. "Here, since you don't have trouble with translating," Alex said, handing her son a large pad of grid paper. Rows of letters ran vertical while numbers ran horizontal along the sides of the drawn grid. "A1 is that corner," pointing to the top left corner of the wall, "I think you can figure out the rest. If there's a carving leave it blank," she said, seeing a slight bulge in her son's shorts when Andrew didn't noticed her looking. She was thankful for that; she so couldn't deal with that at the moment.

"Well, it's better than being out in the sun," Andrew sighed, clicking the pen getting to work.

"That will free one of us up," Anta said, looking over at Andrew as she watched his hand moving along the paper.

"Bill, I want you to check his work," Alex said, offhandedly.

"Yes Professor," Bill nodded.

*******

Two weeks had pasted since Andrew's arrival. He didn't know if his mother was being vindictive or what. It sure did feel that way as he dug out the new pit for the latrine.

"God. What do these people eat," Andrew groaned as he shoveled the sand into the old pit. So far, he hasn't thrown up once, came close a number of times. He had no idea how he kept his churning stomach down. "She's definitely doing this to get back at me for some reason," he muttered as he shoveled as fast as he could so he could escape the smell. For the past week they had pretty much avoided each other. Himself so he could try to keep those thoughts he had from resurfacing, his mother he had no clue why. They each had fallen into a routine his mother would wake before he would and do what she needed to do. Not that he didn't catch her bathing in the early morning a few times. It was weird watching the progress of his mother's brush as it grew. What was the weird part was his mother walked in on him taking care of his morning wood a few times too. She would always feign shock and quickly leave, yet Andrew got a feeling that wasn't before she got an eyeful. He wasn't sure why though. And yes, his mother still slept in the nude, regardless if she was sharing a bed, or in this case a hammock, with him.