Date: Thu, 15 Jun 2006 16:17:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Aihu Fist <aihufist@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Life as a Whoring Student part 24

No reproduction allowed without prior consent of the author, this is
copyrighted from the moment it appears on the web.



It sure was a hell of a long sleep, yet I think it was more the sensation
of timelessness that I went through. Vaguely I recall the room being empty
several times or I suppose I was unable to perceive voices around me. It
seemed to stay dark for ages. Then someone lifted my head up and told me to
drink. Though my taste buds were numb; I drank the thing as I was
thirsty. It was Hassan who put the cup on my lips. I knew it was him
because again he spoke in French to me.

I don't know whether it was minutes after or hours when someone pulled at
my fee, followed by hands grabbing my hips and shoulders. Before long I was
lying on my stomach. Something or rather someone heavy landed on me. There
was lots of whispering about; more voices than last time, though. Yet, I
couldn't be bothered any longer; I drifted off to a faraway place.
Meanwhile my body was being tossed around in the darkness, something
penetrated me and the feeling that came over me was like my asshole was
growing as wide as a New York sewer. I bore the stretching while I drifted
deeper into an unknown world, my body becoming a hole in itself, and I
reckoned the thing to come out through my mouth.

 The pushing and shoving in my rectum came with a regular beat and thud
that resounded at my temples. Someone was humming an Arab tune while this
happened. The thumping multiplied in visions of demons and spirits. I was
speechless. I heard:

-Ça va? (Everything all right?).

I tried to see where the voice came from, but too knocked out as I was I
quickly rested my head back on the pillows.

The darkness was forever and encrusted in my head. Hunger feeling was
absent. Hassan came by once more with some tea. I was still lying on my
back. I saw figures sealing of the tiny window with paper. The stars left
me and I felt sad about it. It made me want to get up and stop them from
hiding them, but Hassan kept me down.

-Non mon ami, tu dois te reposer, tu es tres malade (no my friend, you have
to rest, you are very ill), he spoke while stroking through my hair.

 He left me for a second time. The whole thing about who came and who went
was a question mark to me, something my brain couldn't work it out at the
time. My eyelids weighed tons now, and I was still naked. At one point I
remember I heard Spanish young voices, I saw faint figures moving around my
head, and they were on their knees. One came over me and sat on my solar
plexus; he too was naked.

-Chouf (look), I heard him say to the others.

I heard him spit in his hand and then I saw him lubricating his cock head
with it. He began masturbating and in high speed holding his cock over my
face, Again I lost track of time and closed my eyes, couldn't concentrate
on him. I was rushed out of my long spinning dream, because another one was
pulling at my ball sack. The guy was still sitting on me and grunting
monkey sounds. I smiled at him for his face appeared to be one of an angel,
so soft and gentle it was. I saw his curly Arab tousled hair surrounded
with an aureole, but he had his tongue that stuck out of his lips in
anticipation of coming and that turned him into a satyr. Someone else
grabbed my chin, and with one hand over my nose and another hand spread
over my upper jaws he pulled my mouth open. The satyr sprayed my tongue and
palate with so much cum that tasted like whipped cream.

I was rolled over to my left side; a hot young body moved up behind me and
with his knees he pushed my legs in a kneeling position. Fingers probed my
butt cheeks and pried them open dexterously. My head was pulled back by my
hair and I was facing the ceiling looking at another body with an erect
penis. It was glistening with saliva and the owner of the cock was pushing
it down towards my mouth which I opened instinctively. The darkness making
it impossible to recognize any features. I could only distinguish
expressions of shining lips or a movement of an eye.

The cock I felt was fat and long and moved in steadily. From the back the
same thing happened; this one was in for sure and had decided to settle
down in me for a while. He enjoyed pretty much being in me for as long as
it could last. I didn't suck; I was only the recipient of the mouth fucker,
who only spoke in Arab the usual words like `zamel'; The one behind me
addressed me in Spanish calling me `marica' (faggot). Why they had to
insult while fucking was beyond my comprehension. I figured it had to do
with them showing off how male they are when fucking one who isn't, albeit
knowing that the thing they do is prohibited by the Koran. They need an
excuse to practice it...

As he approached his orgasm, the mouthfucker held my face steady
interrupted his steady going at me in exchange for violent hard pushes
every three seconds, he scrubbed my tongue at the back and suddenly the
sluice opened up and let it all come out in squirts. The other one came
quickly after and made similar rough pushes to then holding still for a
long minute with his hard cock stand-by, he roared like a young lion and I
felt his hot breath in my neck.

-Buen puto eres (good whore you are), he said.

Both left me, thus I cannot really tell if it had been three or two
only. Perhaps the one who had fucked from behind was Abdelatif and the
mouth fucker was the sweet guy. Where about was Ceuta and the fourth one?

Soon after I lost conscience again; Hassan I had given me a drink with a
pill to swallow.

-To heal faster, he'd said.

After that I don't recall whispers or bodies against me. Much later, I woke
up and I found myself in a different room, bigger but uglier. I was still
naked, lying on a blanket with holes in it with dog or cat hairs sticking
about. My pillow smelled dog shit. The floor tiles were broken; the wall
had human feces smeared on them and Arab graffiti completed the picture of
decay.

The window was big but locked; I got on my legs, which were very shaky, but
I managed to get to the window. There was nothing but wasteland around as
far as I could see. On my left I saw the sea and some fishing boats on the
shore. The beach was abandoned and polluted, full of stones and rubbish. I
did notice a few specks in the far distance that looked like buildings too,
but I saw no people. Where was I? This was not Torremolinos anymore! The
door had no handle from within.  I went back to my blanket to sit down as I
didn't feel to well.

-Hola!!!(helloo!!!) I shouted at the top of my lungs.

No reply. Even shouting like that was too much of an effort for me. So I
kept quiet.

 In the corner of the room a card box got my attention. I crawled to it and
was happy to find fruits in it. Bananas, oranges and grapes. I ate them all
at once. Since I couldn't leave the place I decided to have a nap. Don't
know how long I slept, I mean I had no clue of time without a watch. It
looked like morning outside but it might have been late afternoon as
well. The sky was grey and cloudy for the whole day. I was fast asleep and
found myself abruptly shaken up by a coarse hand slapping my back and a
voice thundering through my sleepy head.

-Despierte!!(wake up).

It was dark again with the room being illuminated only with as small pear
on the ceiling. The man was old, about sixty plus, I guessed, with a grey
beard and white hair. He wore a baseball cap and a checked shirt with short
sleeves. His eyes were blue like mine. He gave me a broad smile....

Hassan stood in the doorway and gave me a wink. He was wearing tight jeans
now and a Nike T-shirt which fit so well that one could make out his
pectorals.

The old man turned to him and said:

-Dejennos (leave us).

Hassan closed the door and the old man began to undress in front of me.

He wasn't fat and had no paunch at all- a miracle for his age!-; the man
had taken care of his fisherman body. That's what I though he was. He was
one of few words.

His cotton trousers, shirt and vest landed next to me. Now he stood in
white briefs got them off real elegantly and got on his knees. He kept his
socks on for some reason.

-Tu Alex?

-Si, senor, I piped.

-Yo Carlos. Ven mi guapo (come my handsome), he chirped.

He pulled me by my feet and dragged me with blanket and all nearer to him
upon which he prostrated his own over mine. He went for my mouth and
pierced his tongue through my parched lips. His loins began waltzing with
mine, his cock was hard and had sought sanctuary between my inner
thighs. His fingers found my nipples, which he pressed and twisted
softly. As I said, he was not so talkative, but he was a good kisser with a
moist cock brushing against my perineum. I got as hard as him. Yet, he was
too heavy and I was still weak. My Spanish was not good enough to tell
him. His hands caught my arms and moved them over my head which enabled him
to lick my armpits. It made me squirm like a child getting tickled for the
first time. I admit I liked his way of sex making, even though he could
have been my dad; nevertheless, he was sweet. It was me in the end who
invited him for more. I raised my legs in the air and brought my ankles
over his broad shoulders.

-Coheme (fuck me) I whispered in his ear.

He looked up and beamed.

-Serio (are you serious?)?

A wad of spit lubed my asshole. Both I and he had put some spit in it.

I grabbed his cock and rubbed the cock head of his with some more, he
nearly went through his knees of pure joy. I pulled him over and pressed
the head against my anus.

-Ahora si (now yes), I urged him.

His cock was a little curved to the left side, he got in easily though, I
gritted my teeth, because the inner wall his deformed cock roamed hurt me a
little. His suntanned back and chest pearled with sweat. There was no fan
in the room and the heat was oppressive.

He slid in and out on a regular pace which all of a sudden he stepped
up. Suddenly he turned a dangerous red in his face which began puffing
up. He seemed short of breath, paused and pulled out his cock. The pressure
subsided and his skin color was back to normal.

-Calma senor (easy) I said.

He nodded, gasping for air.

-Chupeme (suck me).

I think that was the only alternative; I was happy he didn't die on me. I
got him to lie down and start up the sixty-nine he had wanted.

God, for once someone was blowing me and with pleasure. I tasted my own ass
meat on his cock but that was largely compensated for with him gobbling up
my entire boy hood. He trembled a bit and shot a few drops in me; I on the
other hand unleashed all I had in five squirts. When he came off me, he sat
next to me for awhile pressing his body to mine, caressing me over my
tummy; in short a we enjoyed a nice after play.

-Ahora vamos viajar (now we will travel) pero primero vamos tomar un te
(But first we will take a cup of tea).

-Hassan! He shouted, who arrived instantly.

-Tomamos un te?

-Si, Hassan replied.

I still hadn't made the connection between my drugged state of mind
yesterday and the tea I drank. I really believed Hassan who claimed that I
had been ill. So I wasn't paranoid or looking for some drugs in every drink
he poured out for me. Nor did I look into my glass whether it had something
theirs didn't. Hassan arrived with the three glasses on a plate with the
mint in it. As soon as I had finished my glass I started feeling tired
again, my stomach inside was being ravaged by a hurricane of gas. My bowls
were twisting like snakes. The surge of horny feelings made me grab my
penis and play with it. I did this without inhibition and I saw that Hassan
and the old man had noticed the state I was in.

-Are you getting sick again, Alex? Hassan asked seriously.

-I don't know, Hassan, I just feel hot here. I pointed at my groin. Can I
lie down a bit?

-Sure.

Some time passed. The room grew dark again; the pear was but a little speck
in it. Everything blurred in my mind, the conversation of Hassan with the
old man echoed in the room, the words they spoke getting fainter and
fainter. Hassan walked over to me. His smile turned into a nasty grin and
his eyes into mean slits with red marbles in them. I don't know whether
this was my imagination or if Hassan really did look at me that way. He
undressed swiftly and got his fat cock out. The old man stared at him in
awe.

He leapt back to the old man.

-Tu, he spoke to the old man. Tu me chupes tambien, todos son infieles,
hijos de putas que les gustan chupar hombres, no? (you, can suck me too,
can't you? Aren't' you all infidels sons of bitches who love to suck of
men?).

Did I hear well? Was he insulting us Christians? But the old man still
naked, smiled, took his false teeth out, grabbed Hassan's erect cock and
started what he liked to do. Hassan reeled back and forth.

-Buen Viejo puto (good old fuck), Hassan grunted and moaned.

 I think this must've been a wonderful blow job, so toothless, no scraping
at all. Hassan seemed to have forgotten he was fucking this old mouth; his
whole body became muscle tight and thrilled with every lick of the man's
tongue.

The old man's cock stood up and was taken care of with his left hand.

-Basta, mi carajo es bastante mojado para el (stop it, fuck), ahora es su
tiempo (my cock is wet enough for him, now it is his time).

The sweat came running from his chest, forehead and inner thighs. The eyes
were still devilishly red; they nearly spat fire at me.

-It is the last time I see you, Alex so I want to take you one more time.

He bent down and turned me on my tummy, feverishly parted my butt cheeks
real fast but gentle and slid in. He ground me real well while the old man
continued stroking his own cock from a distance. Hassan wanted to come fast
so he dug deeper in me moved to the left and to the right, left my canal
occasionally, plunged back in like a sword one inch deeper and finally
dribbled his hips on my fleshy cheeks which resulted in coming with a loud
savage cry. He slid out like an oiled snake, turned me on my back again and
said:

-Bon voyage.

I nodded. I had no clue why he was talking about voyage. He left the room
and came back with a blanket. Both men rolled me tightly in it. I thanked
them for taking care of me. They chuckled somewhat when I expressed this
absurd gratitude and both left. I could sleep at last. No sense of time at
all, just like yesterday.

The next time I woke up I was at sea with the old man. He gave me enough
tea to sleep some more. Halfway the straits of Gibraltar, I think it was,
in the blanket on his back he tossed me over on another tiny boat where
other people took care of me. The old man kissed me on the mouth before he
disappeared in the pitch dark never to be seen again.

The boat I was in now was manned with very rowdy people. I heard them
shouting to and fro in Arab tongue. The boat rocked nicely on the waves. My
mind was as numb as that of a moron. What was happening to me? I was lying
in a fisherman's cot still reeling from the drug they had given to me,
though naive as I was I didn't realize I had been drugged. So we were
sailing on the sea, where to? Vaguely I recalled Ceuta's silly shouts of me
going to Tangiers. I didn't even know where exactly that was. Yes, surely
Morocco...but where? The place I had just left was what? Ceuta? The more I
pained my brains the more tired I got, I was lost and gone. Then something
happened. The men who had put me in this bed; I heard them coming,
stumbling down the stairs with a yelling and cheering. It was the crew that
came to see me. They barged into my cabin like savages. I was getting more
lucid, because the tea probably had worked out and they hadn't given me
anything since the cup I drank from the old man. They were all young, in
their twenties; short cropped hair, heavy eyebrows, hairy arms, short
built, white teeth and horny. The cabin was dimly lit so I couldn't figure
out too well the chaos of howling frenzy men poking about. They all had
their mind set on me with big eyes exploring the possibilities of pleasure
with my body. Yes, I was still naked, lying on a blanket only. All three of
them unzipped their flies, got out their Moslem cocks brandishing them in
front of my face.

They pulled me over on my left side, forced my mouth open, so one hard cock
got in. The biggest one went in first; next my ass got molested by four
hands spearing their fingers in turns in my love hole. I was able to suck
this time, my tongue having come alive as had my ass which felt sore
now. Two of them were so impatient they pushed the other with one blow out
of my mouth, over which he got angry. I was amazed at the scene that
followed. The mouthfucker slapped the one who had pushed him away in the
face and punched him in the balls which made him double up in pain. That
was enough a lesson for him to allow the bully to mouth hole me some more.

In the end they agreed to take turns. They forgot about mouth fucking all
together. I was tossed on my tummy and one by one they came lying over me
pumping their juice in me. They needed it badly; I think they hadn't had
sex for ages. They wouldn't leave me for more than an hour, but who was
steering the boat? So probably they were four of them.  I groaned and they
like that very much, with every push one made deeper into me. The more I
groaned the hornier they became. I admired their bodies, they were awesome;
plain and pure nature, muscle with skin.

-Hussein, Haroun, Hamid, aya (come)! Someone shouted. That must have been
the captain.

They jumped off me quite fast and left me in a hurry. Something important
was happening.

The three came back in a minute, hurled me out of the cot and opened a
vault underneath the bed. It was dark in there, nevertheless they force me
to lie in there and gestured to me not to utter a sound or they would kill
me they said with another gesture of a finger slicing the throat.

As I lay there for about ten minutes, I heard a motor boat stopping by. Few
moments later, the men from that boat came down to my bed. Agitated Arab
talk; knocks with a stick on the planks of the bed and around. Through the
slits of the planks I could see uniformed men. They had to be Moroccan
cops.

What were they looking for? Not me I think...maybe drugs. Sure, it had to be
drugs.

They left as they had come. Why didn't I shout? I was too afraid of abusive
police. In Belgium I had not been treated too well by the vice squad
either. The Moroccan ones didn't inspire me too much faith.

The sound of the leaving launch turned my heartbeat to normal. I remained
there for much longer; no one came to get me out of there for another
hour. Then they came down again. They made me stand up and put a Moroccan
dress over my naked shivering body.

They took me to the deck and pointed out the shore for me.

-Tanger, they shouted joyfully.



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