The Offering - Sex Stories

The Offering

The janitor was far from surprised to see light streaming from beneath the door bearing the placard Cameron Baxter, Curator Antiquities , despite the late hour. With a smile and a shake of his head, he continued down the hall, planning to return at the end of his shift – as usual. Inside, Cameron tucked an errant lock of curly, walnut brown hair back behind her ear and sighed. Though she’d expected the result, the email confirming her suspicions about the small collection of late period Egyptian artifacts donated to the museum was still depressing. Every piece was in exquisite condition, and a perfect complement to the pieces already on display. Unfortunately, every single item traced back to a known black market dealer. The paperwork would arrive tomorrow, or the next day, which would force the director to acknowledge the necessity of repatriation. Cameron sent a note of thanks to her great uncle for the information, and for the condolences the email expressed with the bad news. She then emailed her contact in the Egyptian Council of Antiquities, knowing that he would receive her news with far more enthusiasm than she felt at the moment. Not for the first time, she questioned her decision to give up field work for the stability of her position. A childhood immersed in the past and her drive to learn had earned her the much coveted position at only thirty years old. Raised in a family of archaeologists, curators, and researchers, people often remarked that she knew more ...

... about life thousands of years ago than she did about what occurred just outside her door. Most of the time, that suited Cameron just fine. The phone rang, and Cameron answered it without surprise, despite the late hour. Almost immediately, her eyes narrowed as she recognized the voice on the other end – a sharp reminder of her disconnect with the here and now. “Don’t hang up.” “Give me one good reason not to , Trent,” Cameron replied. She clenched her teeth and tried not to remember the disastrous two year relationship with her former fiancé, one which had soured her on ever pursuing another. “Check your email.” Cameron let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed her mouse. “If whatever you’re sending isn’t in my inbox already, then this conversation is over.” “It’s there,” Trent answered, wisely saying nothing more. Cameron clicked through to the email, titled just look . She opened it with a thousand possibilities floating through her head – most of them bad. She was wholly unprepared for the picture inside. “Resealed in antiquity?” Cameron asked, staring at what could be nothing except a tomb door with the seal of the Necropolis priests intact. “Yes.” Cameron sat back, her eyes still locked on the image. “Okay, you have my attention.” “We had a team excavating a workman’s village in the Valley of the Queens, and one of our diggers stumbled across the first step by accident. As soon as the watchdog from Antiquities saw the seal, he brought in armed guards and replaced all our ...