Hot Box Chapter 3, The Lost City - Sex Stories

Hot Box Chapter 3, The Lost City

... looks like…” she said as she quickly pulled her notebook from her back pocket and flipped through several of the pages. “It looks a lot like the engravings on this...” she said as she pointed to the drawing she had made of the silver knife we had found several days before. “We’ll have to go back and get it,” I said as I stood up and looked around the room. The rest of the room was completely featureless except for a few small holes in the walls. Only the dust and cob webs from a few centuries of neglect littered the otherwise vacant place. “I don’t see anything else in here,” I said as Mandy continued to look at the engravings on the chair against what she had copied into her book. “Let’s check out those other 4 rooms on the way out. We really need to get our packs.” It only took the hint of the light leaving the room for Mandy to catch up to me. As disciplined as she might be, she still has an innate fear of the dark. I can’t say that I blame her because I sure as hell would not want to be left in her with no lights. But to feel her grip on my hips as I led the way out told me that it was just a bit more than a simple fear. The first of the 4 rooms we looked into on the way out was empty except for some old woven baskets in one corner that looked to have seen better days. There was no telling what had been in them due to the state of decay they were in so we really didn’t mess with them. Directly across the hall the find was a bit more interesting. The room was about half ...

... full of what looked like coconuts. But upon closer inspection they turned out to be fired earthen pots with some kind of simple plug in the top. Mandy lifted one and gently shook it, causing the liquid inside to slosh around a bit. “Back up with that torch!” Mandy said suddenly. “What is it sweetie?” I asked as I took a few steps back and assumed a bit of a defensive posture. “They’re either flasks or oil lamps,” Mandy said as she eyed the pile from side to side. “And it appears that some of them are still full.” “Oh yea,” I said as I took an extra step backward with the open flame torch I was carrying. “A little closer and we might have met Montezuma ourselves,” Mandy said as she backed away from the potentially explosive pile. This was the kind of thing that makes something like this trip to southern Mexico turn from what is supposed to be fun and adventurous into an obituary for your parents. Just a moment of carelessness and we could have been blown into the next archeological find. Mandy cradled the one pot she had picked up against her belly as we quietly retreated from the room. “What are you going to do with that?” I asked as we headed for the third room. “We need to know what this is,” she said as she made sure to keep the side with the plug aimed upward. “I’ll check it out back at the camp.” The last two rooms both yielded nothing. Room 3, the closest to the entrance on the right as we came in was completely full of roots from top to bottom. With a chainsaw I might be ...