“It appears so. Now what do we do?” Paul asked finally.

“Do? We dig. We excavate. We expose. We document. We WORK, Paul David. We work. Let’s see if this is the Jaguar and if the stones are all here. Get your knife and let’s get busy.”

The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon using artist pallet knives to scrape blade after blade of dirt from the skeleton; the victim of barbaric violence from five centuries previous. By the time the dinner bell rang, the sun was approaching the ocean in the west. The rest of the diggers had given up their efforts for the day when Kari and Paul emerged from their hole. They had covered the skeleton with a sheet of dirty canvas and with a look they each knew the other would keep their silence. That evening, no one noticed anything unusual with Kari and Paul’s behavior.

Saturdays on the location are usually laundry and town day. Everyone would pile into the three camp vehicles to cross the Oso Peninsula for work-free day of entertainment and a meal and partake in the limited shopping the small towns offered. Most went just to get away from the dig site and to soak up some of the local liquor. Paul and Kari stayed behind, unnoticed by the others who would have assumed they caught a ride in one of the other vans for the bumpy ride into town.

The pair of diggers descended into their pit with more excitement than ever. They were more excited than their first days on the location when dig fever ran rampant. The sun rose high into the sky before they took their first water break. When they finished, Kari removed the long sleeved work shirt she customarily wore and went back to work wearing just a white tank top, already soaked with sweat, and her black sports bra. Her short blonde hair was tucked behind her ears and held in place by a floral bandanna folded into a headband and tied in place.

Paul followed her lead and removed his work shirt. Underneath he wore a black t-shirt with the football symbol of the Cornhuskers from his home state. With a glance Kari could see that there was more to Paul than she originally thought. He was no mushy digger nerd. He had the well-defined muscles of a young man accustomed to hard work.

While not overly large, he was sculpted and toned. He had lettered twelve times in high school, for football, wrestling and track. He could have gone to the University of Nebraska on a track scholarship, but he accepted the academic scholarships he was offered instead. Kari considered his manly qualities for the first time. She appreciated what she saw. For the first time a fleeting thought passed through her mind that moved Paul from the friend zone to the danger zone, if only for a second.

They both went back to work and continued without a break until hunger overcame them and they stopped long enough to raid the camp refrigerator for the tortillas and the rice and squash casserole left from the night before. After eating they provisioned themselves with several additional bottles of water each, they descended back into the excavation.

Resuming their work, the knelt on opposite side of the partially exposed skeleton, heads nearly touching, seldom saying a word. Paul noticed that they were breathing in unison but said nothing. As they scraped at the skeletal remains it was clear: they had discovered the remains of a man with stone bracelets and stone anklets and what was probably a stone pendant necklace, though the leather bindings had deteriorated centuries before, leaving the sphere perched on the center of his ribcage.

Paul lightly grazed the sphere resting on the skeletons chest. The sphere felt rough and slightly warm to the touch. It felt somewhat familiar to Paul. His great-grandfather had let him handle his treasured artifact several times as a child. He told Paul stories of the Jaguar Shaman, and how he had spent 25 years digging to find his remains, and finding only the one small sphere for his troubles. Paul’s focus returned to the dig.

The broad hole in his forehead gave an indication as to how the Shaman had met his end. Most likely it was the projectile fired from a Spanish harquebus, a heavy precursor firearm that made the natives think they were the source of all thunder. The Jaguar was a short man in his lfe, no taller than five feet two inches, and shorter yet in his death, typical for the other skeletons of the region.

They had unearthed his upper hemisphere from top of skull to the soles of his feet. The skeleton appeared to be laying in a dirt bath. They had also unearthed the tops of two dozen smaller stone spheres and two dozen clay jars that surrounded the shaman’s remains. Whoever had placed him here had taken special care to adorn him properly for the next life.

Each of the spheres probably represented something to the shaman or to the village and each of the jars probably carried herbs or medicines the shaman would have used in his sacrificial ceremonies. They paused frequently to examine, measure, catalog, photograph and share each discovery before they went back to work.

When darkness descended again, they reluctantly covered up their work and climbed from the pit. They were tired and exhilarated at the same time. They still had camp to themselves. The first vehicle wouldn’t return until close to midnight. The last vehicle wouldn’t arrive until closer to dawn. Kari and Paul started a fire in the half-barrel that served as the camp barbecue.

There was fresh fish in the refrigerator and fresh fruit and vegetables. They would grill the fish and make kebabs from the fruits and vegetables. While the fire burned down to cooking embers, the pair decided to clean up before finishing dinner.
The camp was equipped with two showers attached to the water tower not far from the sleeping tents. They were made of canvas panels surrounding slat wood flooring with overhead plumbing.

The small water tower was filled from a modern windmill up the hill from the dig. The water was usually tepid but tolerable. Ordinarily the showers were either used by the men or by the women, but tonight Kari suggested they each take a side to save time, trusting the other to maintain their modesty. Paul tried not to stutter while he agreed to the arrangement.

He slipped into his tent and slipped out of his dirty digging clothes and slipped on a favorite pair of short and sandals for the short walk to the showers. The tents were erected above the ground on wooden platforms and all of the quarters were connected by plank walkways to keep the students out of the mud. It was the first line of defense against the jungle rot that would eat at the feet of the students who were unaccustomed to the constant wet conditions of the rainy season.

Paul carried his towel over his shoulder and his clean shirt in his hand as well as his dob kit of toiletries. He was first to the showers and took the one closest to the tents. Inside there was a small wooden bench and hooks in the frame of the water tower to hang his clothes and towels. A pair of chains worked the valve that controlled water to the large shower-head at the other end of the enclosure.

Once nude, he pulled the chain and enjoyed the feel of the somewhat cooler water as it washed away the sweat and grime from his day-long efforts. He heard Kari approaching on the board sidewalk. Paul turned his head to the sound of her approach and realized that the breeze had stirred the modesty flap open and if she turned her head as she passed, Kari would get a full look at him in the shower. Instead of fear, this gave Paul a feeling of excitement. His cock stirred, filling with blood.

“How is it?” she asked lightly, still approaching.

“It feels really nice. I had no idea how dirty I had gotten. I’m sorry if I stank you out of the pit,” he replied, trying gamely to make harmless conversation.

Just hearing her voice was causing a reaction to his involuntary systems that controlled his arousal. He imagined her looking through the gap in the canvas, entering the enclosure with him, removing the last of her clothes, loosening her headband and releasing her short blond hair. He could see her firm breasts and taut stomach as she joined him, the water cascading down her body. He closed his eyes to enjoy his fantasy and missed noticing if she had peeked or not. He could hear her in the next shower, the boards and bench creaking with her movements.

If he stood all the way to the far side of his shower, he could make out her feet to the ankles underneath the canvas separating wall between them. He was painfully aroused when he shut off his water and began to dry off.

Would you mind if I borrowed your shampoo? I thought I had grabbed mine but I grabbed the creme rinse instead,” she asked through the wall.

Paul grabbed his bottle and held it under the divide, lifting the wall slightly. When she grabbed it, her fingertips closed on his. A surge of energy passed between them and they both dropped the bottle.

“I’m so clumsy,” she apologized. “Sorry about that.”

He could see her hand reach partway into his shower and grasp the bottle. It quickly disappeared. Paul sat down and finished drying. He gave up on his erection subsiding on its own while in such proximity and gathered the rest of his stuff and headed back to his tent.

“I’ll go start the fish,” he said as he left. “Come whenever you are ready.” It will give me a chance to get you out of my mind.

I could come right now, thought Kari McCoy. She had peeked as she passed and seeing her digging partner nude had begun to work strange changes in her. In her six years of digging on this site, she had never found another student to be attractive, let alone been involved with one. Other students had hot, steamy jungle affairs, but not Kari McCoy. Now she felt like she was long overdue. Her hand wandered down between her legs and lightly grazed her sex. She imagined her hand was Paul David’s and she was rewarded with an electric orgasm that shivered her even in the tropical heat.

She felt a little sheepish when the orgasm subsided, but she considered what it meant. She felt more than a passing interest in her young digging partner. She shut off the water, toweled her body dry, and got dressed. She wore a light long sleeved shirt, as protection against the mosquitoes. But tonight she opted not to wear a bra. Kari hadn’t realized her wardrobe decision until she left the shower enclosure with her bra in hand. Instead of putting it on, she felt like it was a sign of something that was supposed to be.