Date: Wed, 23 May 2007 13:12:47 -0500
From: Morris Henderson <bigmoh@post.com>
Subject: Joy in Cairo
NOTE: This story is fiction. Do not read this story if graphic
descriptions of sex between a man and a teenage boy
offends you or if it is illegal for you to do so.
JOY IN CAIRO
The hotel in Cairo was reasonably comfortable and, after long hours
in a factory installing robotic machinery, I welcomed the comfort of a
shower and bed. The hotel, ostentatiously called "The Presidential,"
was not up to western standards but it was clean and as close as I
could get to my temporary work site. My clients in the manufacturing
facility spoke English fluently and the primary hotel staff struggled
along just to the point of being understood. The TV in my room,
however, had only a few local channels, and none of the programming
was in English or Spanish that I could understand. The deprivation of
contact with my familiar world weighed heavily On my spirits. And I
had at least two more weeks of it to endure before I could return home.
My colleagues at work had drawn plum assignments to London,
Paris, and Frankfurt. Being the junior member of the team, I had
been assigned the Cairo installation. I was not unhappy with the
assignment and for a 23-year-old newcomer to the company I was
lucky to get any international travel. However, the long hours at the
factory had left little time to see any of the ancient city and I
returned to the hotel with only enough time to shower, eat, and fall
into bed.
The hotel, built before in invasion of hotel chains like Marriott
and Novotel, had but one elevator to service its five floors of guest
rooms and was operator controlled, a fact that struck me, given my
experience with technology, as quaint. The elevator operator in the
morning was a friendly enough man in his fifties who performed his
duties competently if unenthusiastically. In the evening, however, a
young boy manned the elevator and was pleasantly effusive in
greeting each guest. He looked to be not more than 14 years old
although I had learned that gauging the age of local residents was
inaccurate at best.
He was effusively pleasant and made me forget the day's work
and stress. His bright dark eyes fairly glistened beneath finely
arched eyebrows. A perpetual grin on his lips broadened to a smile
as he greeted his passengers. He was no more than five and a half
feet in height and as slender as most of the young men I had
encountered since arriving. His complexion, smooth and unflawed,
was the rich copper-color of his heritage. Dark black hair, neatly
trimmed, was visible below his uniform hat. In looks and manner,
he was as close to perfection as I could imagine.
Arriving back at the hotel at almost 9 o'clock after my third day of
work and having grabbed a few snacks in a local store to serve as
my dinner, I was looking forward to a long night's sleep. I was
exhausted but my mood improved by the young elevator operator
brightly welcoming me by name and confirming my floor number.
Effusively, he asked if I was American, which I admitted. He said, "I
like America. Some day I visit America. I learn English so to talk
good in America." I thought of the probability that he would realize
his wish. The omnipresent poverty I had witnessed while in the
country led me to think that he, too, would be limited by the
expense of travel. I could only reply, "That would be nice. Maybe
you will look me up when you get there." I had to explain the
phrase, look me up, and by this time, the elevator had arrived at my
floor. I said, probably mispronouncing, "Sho-ka-lah," (thank you),
and walked down the hall to my room.
As I showered, I thought of the young lad, his enthusiastic
manner, and his unrestrained optimism. Then, unexpectedly, I
mentally pictured his slim frame smartly dressed in a uniform that
no doubt had once been fresh and new. My thoughts unavoidably
proceeded to imagine his body: slim and trim, as fresh and smooth
as his young face. I recalled some fuzz just above his mouth and
on his chin and decided that he was beginning or well into puberty
so there was likely to be hair sprouting around the base of a cock
that had at least begun to grow to adult proportions. My own cock
responded to the mental imagery by stirring and then swelling. I
jerked off as the hot, soothing water streamed down my back.
Feeling clean, fresh, and relieved, I munched on my snacks until
I felt a craving for a beer. I had not been to the hotel bar on the top
floor but decided to sample the local beer. I walked to the elevator
and pressed the up button. The perky young lad broke into a broad
grin when he saw me. "You go up?" he asked. "Yes, to the bar, for
a beer," I replied. He told me what to ask for, the only beer sold in
Egypt at the time, and bid me goodbye at the top floor with a
cheery, "I hope you like beer. I see you later." Of course, I would
like to see him later--and see all of him--but I knew he was just
being polite as, perhaps, he had been trained to do.
After two beers, I summoned the elevator again. My call was
promptly answered and the young lad was just as exuberant as
ever in spite of the late hour. "You're working late," I commented.
His grin never faded as he replied, "Yes. Seven at night to seven in
morning." I commented on the long hours but he replied, "No
problem. Nobody comes after 11. Maybe 12. I have time to learn
English. To learn about America." We arrived at my floor and I
walked to my room in awe of the boy's attitude.
The next night, Thursday, was the end of the work week in
Cairo. I had all day Friday and Saturday to myself to, perhaps, be a
tourist, before going back to work on Sunday. I looked forward to
the weekend with a combination of dread and excitement. I wanted
to see as many of the spectacular sights to be found in Cairo but I
also expected it to be, at times, difficult to communicate and, to be
honest, I knew I would be lonely. The elevator boy greeted me by
name warmly, as usual. "You know my name," I commented.
"Yes," he replied, "I find out at front desk." It was the obvious
explanation but his candor impressed me more than his initiative.
"And what is your name," I asked. "Abu," he said. It was, I thought,
probably a shortened version of his actual name but I was grateful
that it was easy enough to remember.
Going up to my floor, he asked whether I would be working
tomorrow. I told him that I would not. He hesitated a moment
before asking, "You like to see city? I can show you. I know good
places. I be good guide for you." His offer was irresistible and,
having determined that he did not have to report for work until
Sunday evening, I accepted. His grin seemed to illuminate the
elevator. "Good. You come to lobby tomorrow. I show you good
time." We confirmed a time, 8 o'clock, and I walked down the hall
to my room for another lonely evening.
As I shed my clothes to prepare for a soothing hot shower, my
thoughts were completely captured by the young boy's charm. His
was not a simple, pleasant greeting when I entered the elevator; its
effect was invigorating. His initiative and apparent love for his
otherwise dreary job was impressive. And there was his body. His
uniform was somewhat worn and baggy on his small frame but
couldn't conceal a well-proportioned body. I couldn't avoid
wondering as I stepped into the shower what that body would look
like. The thought was sufficient to arouse me and I stroked to a
satisfying orgasm.
Upon climbing into bed, I chided myself for lusting after a young
boy. I reasoned that doing so was merely a result of my being quite
alone in an unfamiliar environment. I concluded that--because of his
age and the very strong taboos in an Arab country--I was foolish to
entertain any thoughts of anything beyond fantasizing.
I awoke the next morning full of eager anticipation. Not only
would I have a guided tour of the city but would be in the company
of a charming young boy. At the agreed time, he was waiting in the
lobby, dressed in dirty, worn sneakers, clean chino trousers, and a
tight-fitting T shirt with a New York Jets logo on the front. The T
shirt clung to his torso, revealing a narrow waist, perhaps 28 or 30
inches, and a chest that was noticeably fuller yet not muscular. His
chino trousers were looser and, to my momentary disappointment,
less revealing.
As he saw me approach, he jumped to his feet, his face
beamed, and he gushed in his typical exuberant way, "Come. I
show you city. We have good time. No?" I had only said "yes"
when he grabbed my hand and led me out the door into the
morning sun. For such a young man, I thought, he showed
extraordinary confidence in taking the lead. "First we see Nile. Is
beautiful in morning," he said as he started down the street.
"Wait," I called. "You want some breakfast first?"
He looked back at me quizzically but said, "First the Nile. Then
eat." He paused before adding, "OK?"
The rest of the day was like that. He knew exactly where to go.
And where not to go. He had complete control of the itinerary while
I followed along appreciating his unwavering enthusiasm and pride
in his city. He was as full of useful information about the city as he
was animated in his explanations. I learned that he had just turned
15 although he could easily pass for a much younger boy. He lived
with his mother and an aunt. He couldn't remember his father who
was killed in the military years ago. He also volunteered the
information that his time was pretty much his own, without any
restrictions on when, or whether, to come home. The overall
impression was that of a lively, youthful boy but with a very adult-
like sense of responsibility and ambition.
My admiration of the lad only grew as he confidently and
competently led me to most of the typical tourist destinations but
also took me to places in Cairo that were more typical of the city
and just as interesting. I had several opportunities to admire his
body without his being aware of my interest. His movements were
not those of the typical boy who, having gone through a growth
spurt, becomes awkward while learning to control expanded bones
and muscles. Following hiM up a stairway in the Cairo Antiquities
Museum, I marveled at the shape and fluid motion of his compact
ass. It was enough to cause a stir in my groin but, fortunately, we
reached the second floor before I would be embarrased by a
swelling in my crotch.
Lunch was followed by more tours in the afternoon and we
finished the daylight hours with dinner at an out-of-the-way cafe that
he had recommended. I couldn't read a word on the menu but
young Abu was very helpful in explaining the various offerings
including suggestions on what I might like and what to avoid. He
ordered and, at a question from the waiter, turned to me to ask what
I would like to drink. "Do they have beer?" I asked. He flashed
another infectious smile at me, turned to the waiter and had what
seemed to be a much longer conversation than necessary.
"He not like me to drink beer," Abu explained. "But I tell him is
okay."
I could only guess at the reason for the waiter's reluctance and
what Abu had said to persuade him otherwise but I decided not to
pursue the explanation.
After an excellent meal and fascinating conversation about life in
Cairo, we left the restaurant and emerged into the now dark street.
I was exhausted but he was as lively as he had been in the
lobby that morning. And after a 12-hour shift and nearly 12 more
hours shepherding me through the city!
As we walked back to the hotel, the conversation turned to
incessant questions about America. He wanted to know everything
I could tell him. I could only return the favor since he was so
forthcoming about his city.
We stopped outside the front door of the hotel. His ever-present
smile had faded. Was he simply very tired? If so, it was
understandable. I handed him a wad of currency with a Sho-ka-lah.
He weakly declined but there was little delay in pocketing it. I
sensed that he wanted to say something, maybe about another
excursion tomorrow. I was right about his intentions but wrong
about the message. Hesitatingly, he said, "You nice American. I
like you. You like me?" I assured him that I did. Then came the
totally unexpected. "No. I mean to say, you like me to visit you?
You like friend in your room tonight? I show you more good time."
The offer was compelling but I felt a need to clarify his meaning.
My reply was awkward but direct, "What kind of good time?"
He looked up into my face. He gave crooked little smile. He
glanced about before giving me a quick hug before saying, "I can
be your friend tonight." Then, to make sure I understood, he added,
"I can be good friend in bed." A hint of fear was in his eye as
though he expected an indignant rejection of his offer.
I smiled down at him and said, "You're 15. In America, that's
against the law." I had not refused his offer but he reacted as
though I had.
With a small pout on his face but with determination in his voice,
he said, "This not America. Here is OK. You like friend in bed
tonight?"
His determination, my uncertainty about legalities, and my
craving to have him join me in bed resulted in my saying, "I'd like
that very much."
He was delighted, almost jumping for joy. "You take elevator. I
take stairs. I knock on your door." With that, he ran around the
corner, presumably to the back door of the hotel.
My cock was stirring as I rode the elevator up to my room. My
hand trembled as I turned the key. I stood, unable to sit down,
awaiting the arrival of Abu. In what seemed like much longer than it
actually was, I heard a light tapping on the door. I opened the door
and Abu rushed in and, to my surprise, rushed to the window to
close the blinds. Then he turned to face me. "We have good time.
No?" "Yes," I corrected as I felt my cock begin to swell.
He ran to me and hugged me. He said he was 15 but he had
the face and diminutive frame of a younger boy. His head came
only up to my chest. He looked up at me and asked, "What you
want to do?" Having spent the day leading me around, he was
apparently relinquishing control to me.
I seized the chance and said, "First, I would like to take off your
clothes. Then you take off mine. OK?" He took a step back to give
me access to his clothes. Wanting the experience to last, I was
quite slow in pulling his shirt up over his head. In doing so, I
noticed that hair had only just begun to grow in his armpits. His
bronze torso gleamed with just a little sweat. There was not a hair
between his chin and his belt buckle.
I ran my hands up and down his upper body--front, sides, and
back. His body was small but it was solid. I teased and then softly
pinched his chocolate-colored nipples. They responded by firming
up and protruding as Abu moaned almost silently.
I moved to unfasten his belt as my cock stiffened and strained to
be free. I unfastened his belt and undid the button at the
waistband. Before unzipping his fly, I let my hand wander
downward to feel his cock through his trousers. It was, to my initial
disappointment, soft although, to my relief, was evidently sizable. I
knelt down on the floor in front of him, the better to see his cock
when it was finally revealed. As the zipper came down, his trousers
fell to his ankles suddenly revealing, since he wore no underwear, a
pendulant, uncut cock that was surprisingly large for his small
frame. Curly black hair surrounded the base and trailed down to his
elegantly formed balls that hung down slightly. His legs displayed a
sprinkling of short, fine hair. I was captivated by the sight until I
realized it was still limply hanging--hanging low but showing no sign
of arousal which, I thought, was unusual for a teenager who should
have hormones racing through his body.
I sat him on the bed and removed his shoes (no socks) and
trousers. Reluctantly moving my gaze from his lovely cock to his
face, I saw that he was looking at my crotch with the obvious tent.
"Your turn," I said to him.
He began working on me, duplicating the pace with which I had
undressed him. I found it erotic but was nevertheless impatient for
him to finish the task so we could put our naked bodies together.
He ran his hands across my slightly hairy chest giving extra
attention to my nipples. This young man knows what he's doing, I
thought to myself. Eventually, my pants dropped down and he
carefully lowered my briefs so as to not painfully bend my extremely
stiff cock. Without touching my erect rod, he ran his fingers through
my pubes and then fluffed the hair up to protrude outward
somewhat more. My cock was no more than average size but I was
pleased to hear Abu say, "Big. You have nice penis."
I sat on the bed and he removed my shoes, socks, pants, and
briefs. Now we were both completely nude and it's debatable which
of us was more admiring of the other's body.
By this time, I noticed, his cock was swelling, no doubt beginning
its growth when first he saw my engorged boner. Looking up at me
with his innocent gaze (although I didn't believe he was a virgin at
this sort of thing), he asked, "What you like now?" I didn't answer
but put my hand under his arms and picked him up to stand at the
side of the bed. I held him tightly against my chest, our bodies
seeming to merge into one. He reacted promptly by throwing his
arms around my waist and squeezing me as tightly as I held him. I
could feel his stiffening cock pressed against my right leg.
Suddenly, he jumped up and I found his legs wrapped around
my waist while he pulled his crotch and cock tightly against my
stomach. He let go just enough to slide slightly down to the point
that my aching cock was forced into the crack between his butt
checks. I briefly wondered if my cock would, before the night was
over, find its way up into his ass.
First, however, I wanted to enjoy his body. I turned and sat on
the edge of the bed so he was now sitting in my lap. It caused a
painful bending of my stiff cock so I dropped my hands to place
them on his bare ass cheeks. Lifting him up, I slid his body back far
enough that my cock sprang up to attention between us. I fondled
his now hard cock gently, relishing the feeling of the brown skin that
was stretched tightly around the mast of meat. In no time, he did
the same to me. His delicate hand encircled my throbbing member.
The sensations that shot through my body were electric but
magnified when he positioned his own cock alongside mine and
wrapped his hand around both to squeeze them together.
I picked him up again and laid him on his back on the bed.
Beginning with his neck, I licked and kissed my way down to pay
particular attention to his nipples that firmed and protruded as my
mouth manipulated them. I worked downward along his firm
stomach and, bypassing his cock, spread his legs slightly to lick and
kiss the inside of his thighs. My efforts were rewarded with soft
moans from Abu.
I began to lick his hanging balls, which made him moan
somewhat louder and tremble slightly. First one ball, then the other,
then both found their way into my mouth where they were gently
massaged. I was in heaven adoring the young boy's body through
sight, touch, and taste. Abu was clearly enjoying the experience as
well as evidenced by his moans, trembling, and occasional
muscular spasms.
I licked and kissed my way up from the base of his cock to the
tip, teasing him and making him shudder in anticipation. Finally, I
took his cock into my mouth. He shuddered as my warm moist lips
encircled his erect cock and again when I teased his cock head with
my tongue. Although I would have thought it impossible, I became
even more aroused as I sucked on his cock that was now slippery
with my saliva. Soon, I tasted and relished his precum and was
sure that my own cock was oozing as well. I raised my head
enough to look up into Abu's face. It was bathed in delight.
Sensing that my mouth was no longer caressing his cock, he looked
down and smiled.
Unexpectedly, he sat up and pushed me gently to signal that he
wanted me to lay back. I willingly complied. Skipping the
preliminaries, he went immediately to my groin and soon found my
cock warmed and stimulated by his mouth. It didn't take long to
recognize that this young man knew what he was doing. His
movements were smooth, competent, and thoroughly stimulating. I
sensed that I was not far from orgasm when Abu abruptly stopped.
He had sensed it too. He massaged my chest, stomach, and thighs
for a couple of minutes before returning his mouth to my aching
cock. Then, as before, he brought me to the brink of orgasm and
abruptly stopped. I desperately wanted him to continue but said
nothing. My balls were raging with their full load of cum that they
couldn't release. My cock was extremely tender, feeling like it
would burst out of its skin. For the third time, Abu took my cock in
his mouth only to stop just as I knew I could wait no longer. I thrust
my hips up, hoping to keep my aching cock in that wonderful mouth
long enough to get relief. But Abu was too quick. And clever. He
laid down beside me, pressing his still-hard cock into my side with
his head on my outstretched arm. "We have fun. No?"
I realized my hips were unconsciously but instinctively bucking
up and down slightly as though I were fucking something.
Something that wasn't there. Abu sensed my frustration and
returned his mouth to my throbbing cock. Finally, he let me cum
with the greatest orgasm I could remember. I was delirious with
pleasure as I shot load after load into the boy's throat. Having
drained my balls, I collapsed back onto the bed, sweating, breathing
heavily, almost paralyzed with aftershocks of pleasure, and
deliriously content.
Abu cuddled next to me, one arm across my chest, his cock
pressed to my side. When I regained my strength and sensibilities, I
realized that this young man had given me an experience I would
remember forever. And then I realized that the poor boy had given
me all the pleasure while he had not relieved what must have been
the same pressure I had felt in my balls. Wordlessly, I moved
down, took his softening cock in my mouth, and felt it return to its
former stiffness. The sensation even restored firmness to my cock.
I worked his cock tenderly but purposefully until I felt his balls
tighten, his cock pulse, and the hot stream of cum fill my mouth. He
gave me three of four spurts, which I savored, before relaxing back
onto the bed. I licked off the remaining drops that oozed out of his
cock and took a position next to him. I laid down beside him,
holding his tightly. I whispered, "Sho-ka-lah." He looked back at
me and said, "We have fun. No?" A contented smile was my
answer. He asked, "You want more fun?" "No," I said, "I think you
need to sleep now." He didn't object but snuggled next to me.
Within five minutes, he was sound asleep while I laid there
marveling at his energy, his technique, and the ecstasy I had
experienced.
Before falling asleep myself, I fondled his wonderful organ--not
to arouse him but for my own selfish pleasure. It was soon hard,
erect, and leaking pre-cum but Abu's continued, steady, deep
breathing told me he was sound asleep. And why shouldn't he be
after more than 24 hours awake? I continued my selfish
gratification by pulling his foreskin back and letting it return to cover
his helmet. I was mesmerized by the sight and feel of his cock as I
compulsively played with it. I was fascinated by the way his
foreskin slid so easily down but returned slowly to cover the
engorged head. I was wishing that I had not been circumsized and
could enjoy the highly sensitive stimulation of a foreskin. As I
continued fondling him, I saw and felt the signs of impending
orgasm. I briefly considered stopping out of fear that an orgasm
would wake my sleeping beauty but my consideration was too late.
His balls contracted, his cock jerked, and he erupted with three
blasts that arced up to finally lay trails of cum on his chest and
stomach. With only a brief interuption of Abu's breathing, he settled
down again into deep sleep. I cleaned him with my tongue and
savored the taste before reluctantly swallowing.
At 9 the next morning I awoke. Abu was still asleep. I took a
long admiring gaze at his body and went to the bathroom to empty
my bladder and for a shower. I was hoping to, as Abu put it, "Have
some fun" again before venturing out for the day. Abu slept until
almost eleven while I poured over some technical specifications in
preparation for the next week. When Abu awoke, it was with the
same energy and enthusiasm that had become his hallmark. He
bounded out of bed, his naked body arousing me once again. "We
have fun last night. No?" I could only agree wholeheartedly. He
ran to me, gave me a hug, and ran again into the bathroom, no
doubt to empty his bladder. Upon coming out, he asked, "You like
more fun today? We see more of Cairo? We play in bed?"
I gazed at him again, amazing at his youthful vigor, his confident
manner, and, of course, his spectacular body. "We do both," I
replied, unconsciously matching his sentence structure.
"First we play here. Then see city. OK?" He was offering just
what I had hoped.
After about an hour of sex, including a somewhat difficult 69
given his short stature, we laid next to each other in bed. I decided
to ask him a question that had been bothering me since his bold
offer last night to "be a good friend in bed."
With no hesitation, he answered. "I see how you watch me in
elevator. When we tour the city. You many times look at my ... how
you say? ... bottom. And my front. Only sometimes at my face. I
see you smile when I move special ways. You no notice pretty
girls. You notice men and boys. I learn from my cousin how to
watch people watch me."
His candor answered my question and also gave me a warning
about any unconscious signals I had been sending. Then he
astutely noticed my concern and said, "Also, you nice American. I
like you. I think we both have fun. I was right, No?"
"You're very smart," I told him, adding, "I'm glad you asked me to
have fun. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Did you?"
"Oh yes," he exclaimed. "You make me feel good. Like bird
high in sky."
We spent the afternoon touring more unusual sites in Cairo. I
did some shopping, souvenirs for nephews and nieces and some
"American" clothes for Abu: Nike shoes, jeans, and a Yankees T
shirt. After dinner, I gave him another wad of currency, making it
clear that it was for his time in being my tour guide. He didn't
hesitate in accepting it this time. I was looking forward to another
night in bed with Abu and was visibly disappointed when he said he
wanted to go home. I could hardly protest but he saw the
disappointment in my face. "Maybe I come again to see you.
Maybe tonight."
It was getting dark as I arrived at the hotel, wanting a couple of
beers in the hotel bar but afraid to leave my room and miss a
possible visit from my charming bed partner. Just before midnight,
having heard no knock on the door, I went to bed but not to sleep
for another hour.
Sunday morning came and it was off to complete my work at the
manufacturing facility. I returned to the hotel after seven when, I
knew, Abu would be on duty in the elevator. He greeted me, again
by name and again with his characteristic charm. I thanked him
again for showing me the city but said nothing about the sex we had
shared. He didn't mention it either. It was as though it hadn't
happened even though the memory had vividly taken residence in
my mind. The remainder of the Egyptian work week was the same:
pleasant, friendly conversation but no reference to the highlight of
the weekend. By Thursday, I couldn't resist asking Abu whether he
could be my guide again for the next two days. I hoped my
meaning was clear without having to explicitly mention the indoor
fun. His response was typically cheery but disappointingly
noncommittal. "I would like that. Maybe I can." We had arrived at
my floor, the door opened, and I noticed the signal light for the
lobby light was lit summoning the elevator back down. There was
no time to press for a more definite answer.
I returned to my room confused as to whether Abu would tap
again on my door and we could "have some fun."
I was sure to be awake before seven, the time I knew Abu would
be going off duty. I thought about ringing for the elevator and
repeating my offer but decided that would be inappropriate. He
knew what the offer was and he should not feel pressured to
accept. Hours passed without any knock on the door. A wide
range of theories sprang to mind. Abu had other commitments. He
got what he wanted: a little sex and some money. He simply didn't
want to and couldn't say so to my face. Maybe some accident had
happened to him. Perhaps the hotel management found out and
fired him. If only I knew why there was no tap on the door.
It was nearly noon when I gave up and decided to go out for
lunch. Returning within an hour, I was afraid I had missed him but
convinced myself that last weekend would be the extent of my time
alone with Abu. Having now given up hope of his arrival, I napped
until about 3 o'clock. At 4:30, I was startled to hear a gentle tap on
the door. I rushed to the door and gratefully let Abu into the room.
He was profusely apologetic, explaining that his mother had some
jobs for him. That explanation hadn't occurred to me but I fully
understood his obligation to his family and his embarrassment at
coming to my room so late.
"We can have fun again?" he asked. "Of course," I replied
without any attempt to hide my delight at seeing him. "Let's relax
here for a while and then go get some supper," I suggested. He
grinned as though he knew exactly what my wishes were. To
confirm his understanding, he walked over to me, raised his arms
high in the air ready for me to remove the shirt I had bought him a
week ago. There was no hesitation in my response as I lifted his
shirt off.
We repeated the same procedure as in our first night together. I
undressed him more quickly but caressed his bronze body as
thoroughly. The one deviation was that he was the first to cum into
my mouth following which, he worked his magic on me. A late
supper was followed by more sex in my room, Abu having climbed
the stairs again. We both slept peacefully, giving in to sleep holding
each other tight and periodically fondling each other's cocks.
Morning came and with it another round of completely satisfying
sex. Abu may have had a boyish body but he was clearly an able
and insatiable sex partner.
After breakfast in a local cafe, we agreed that it would be more
fun to go back to the hotel instead of sight-seeing. After an hour of
sex and helping each other shower, we sat in the only two chairs in
the room when Abu looked at me seriously. The boyish grin was
gone. The exuberance had faded. "I like you. You are nice
American. We have a lot of fun together. But I must go now. My
mother has more jobs for me." He genuinely looked disappointed
that he had to leave but I could not stand in the way of what he had
to do for his family. "I like you, too, Abu. You're a wonderful
person. You've shown me a wonderful time. And I appreciate it
more than you can know."
He stood to leave, sadly, I thought. "Wait a moment," I said.
I turned around to the table, opened the drawer, and took out an
envelope. I stuffed in another wad of currency and wrote my
address on the back of the envelope. I turned back to look at Abu
whose charming energy was still noticeably absent. "I hope you
can come to America sometime," I began. "But it takes a lot of
money and it may be a long time before you can come. Take this.
It has my address on it. When you come, maybe we can see each
other. I can show you America like you have showed me Cairo.
Maybe, if you want to, you can write me a letter and tell me how
much English you are learning." Abu hesitatingly reached for the
envelope and studied the address on the back.
"Thank you," he said.
"Sho-ka-lah," I replied.
A quick hug and he was out the door.
I was scheduled to return home before the next weekend. On
my last morning in Cairo, Abu handed me a small envelope. "For
you," is all he said. I opened it in the taxi going to the airport.
Inside was a picture of Abu. His address was written on the back.
It is now laminated and carried in my wallet as a constant reminder
of a joyful young man who, for however briefly, brought me
immense pleasure.