Date: Mon, 25 Jul 2005 13:42:05 -0500
From: Aihufist@yahoo.com
Subject: whoring student life part 6

My whoring student life part 6
			       by Aihu Fist

Abdul a pimp?


My biggest fear came true when I found out that my dad had returned
home. My mum had given him a second chance. All that time he had stayed
living with his mum, who was his god on earth. Everything my mum said was
rubbish in her eyes and due to her influence he beat her for whatever my
mum did or said. My sisters, my brother and I were back in hell. Every
weekend we had fights among our parents. My brother simply slipped away and
stayed in the cafes drinking beer and playing pool. My sisters and I
witnessed the horror of domestic violence, suicidal threats and whatever
adults could say to each other, which we should never have heard in our
young lives.

On these days I had asked a friend of my school to come and stay over. He
was the same age, Danny was his name. His dad was a painter like my father,
so we had something in common all four of us. But to my surprise my father
went mad when he found out I was going to share the bed with my friend in
the living room. We had a sofa that could be clapped open and turned into a
bed. I lay there with him under a blanket and at midnight he rushed into
the living room, saying that he wouldn't tolerate his son turn into a
faggot. I was so embarrassed because it implied that my friend was one
too. We weren't even naked or doing anything, but after that I never had
someone staying over again. I just crept deeper into my cocoon of my
bizarre world of cocks and fucks and rapist Arabs and abusing cops.

My attention turned to my six-year and half old neighbor. He lived in a
broken up family like ours. His mum was mentally unstable and had to put up
in a mental institution various times a year. His father a hardworking man
with a big heart had no time for his kids. In that perspective it was quite
easy to invite this boy over and his ten-year-old sister who was my
youngest sister's friend.

He wasn't the most beautiful kid, but I got along quite well taking him on
bicycle rides. He sat in front and we played motorbike: vrooaaoaaoaooa, I
used shout when we rode the bike fast. I took him in my arms and turned him
into an airplane by passing my arm through his legs and holding him over
his tiny crotch. Little by little we grew quite close and I'd invite him on
lumber shelve in the back of our house where we could be alone. I took out
his little penis and let it grow in my hand. He liked it, especially when I
rolled it between both hands. He had friends of the same age and in no time
I became the popular guy around the corner telling new fairy tales which I
invented on the spot. They sat on my lap and my hands roamed freely. Of
course I didn't go for their groin directly, I just patted them humming on
their butt or caressed their tummy, slowly descending to their touchier
sides. I felt their dickeys rise instantly but they said nothing. God I
came so often in my pants without even touching me. Sometimes I couldn't
control myself and had to see them off to wank myself secretly in the
bathroom. I met many others from the village, we made jokes or they told me
old ones. Amazing that they 'd tell some of a highly content of sex but had
no clue what it meant. I would use words on that occasion of which I knew
they would get curious.

-What's masturbation, they asked me when I juts mentioned it.

The boy who asked was of German-Flemish descent, back hair and black eyes
and lips like cherry pralines.

-That's when you pull at your Willie, I said.

They all looked wonderingly at me all three of them.

-Show us

-I can't

-You must

-Nono I can't

-We want to see it and won't tell anyone.

So we moved to the meadow and sat in a circle. Shoved my shorts underneath
my bum and showed them a huge whopping fifteen year old penis.

-Wow they said when I continued stroking.

Immediately they followed suit, except for the German.

Peter, a scrawny lad, pulled fast and had al benefits of his tugging at his
little peter.

Now they knew what it was but I kept going looking at theirs. I shot in the
sky an awesome handful. They of course couldn't, they were dry still. A
week went by and peter met me in the streets complaining about his Willie.

-It hurts it said, it's all red, and can I show it to you?

-Yes, I said and went for the meadow again.

It was so blood red and full of rash under his glans.

-I pull at it all day, he said and now it hurts. What should I do?

Stop pulling at it, dumbo, I suggested. But I have another method for you.

-What then.

I bowed and swallowed his teeny weenie eleven-year-old pride into my mouth
and sucked it.

-Jeez, oh wow, Alex, stop it please. He started moving his hips like a
professional.

I swallowed his marble size balls as well and of course it didn't take long
before he started moaning and giggling. In ten minutes he leaked his warm
urine in my mouth and I let the salted liquid flow as river down to my
stomach. He went home happy and asked me to do it again many a times. But
his cousin, the German didn't have a good eye on me. One day he strolled by
my house and he said: I will tell your dad what you did to us.

-I did to you?

You asked and insisted to find out about it, you coward.

-If I see your dad, I will tell him.

I ran back inside, my heart beat like hell; I was nearly being blackmailed
by a twelve year old, who for some reason resented my sex with them or
regretted having participated. This boy became my foe for a long time. The
relationships I had with a boy or two were broken up due to him, because he
went after their father and told me I was gay.

This left me with fear and so I concentrated again on staying longer in
Brussels at Abdul's.

I gradually got introduced to his friends. They were all of the same kind,
interested in boys.

On an occasion he took me out to a Turkish cafe. It was eleven pm. The
smoke of cigars and cigarettes nearly choked me. There was a small stage at
the back of the huge room. They were all middle aged men and all glanced at
me, some winked some grinned, another patted me on my bum and another shook
my hand in scratched with his middle finger into the palm of my hand like
it was secret code of something.

I took a seat at the table next to Abdul. I was wearing my imitation tight
jeans.

-Are you ok, Abdul asked?

I nodded.

Have you ever smoked, Alex?

-No, I cannot I have asthma.

-No, but this is another smoke, try this.

He put a stump of fag in my mouth.

-Breathe deeply and strongly at once.

I did twice.  I had no clue they had given me Marihuana. I felt my stomach
cramping and needed to puke, I coughed various times and finally I ran to
the bathroom. I stayed there for a while, I don't know how long when I
heard a knock.

-Are you allright baby? A man asked.

I didn't say a thing I just sat there glued on the john with my knickers
down over my feet.

-You need help

 I remained mute. The guy lifted me off the pot tore some toilet paper off
the wall and started cleaning me. Soon a second and third man stood in the
doorway. Where the hell was Abdul? I had no will of my own and started
laughing beyond control.

All I remember is that they took me to the huge ballroom next to this cafe
and got me undressed. One started painting my lips with rouge and another
put mascara under my eyes.

Yet another elder guy strapped a bikini over my nipples. A short look
through skirt was enlaced around my hips.

-Put him on the stage, they shouted.

I was still laughing and rolling my head. I felt hands and tugging fingers
on all parts of my body. A few on my crotch, a wet finger up my arse.  It
was a different stage. I think it was the same as the one I saw when I
entered the cafe; only it had been divided with a curtain. The back of the
curtain had a different audience and many chairs. So actually two stages
were available. I felt like a wobbly plastic doll. I was looking at ten
different sizes of cocks; all erect and ready to take hold of me. Some were
pulling their cut cocks with lots of spit. I was put on my feet.

-Dance they shouted, dance, dance!!

They laughed at me under their broad graying Ataturk Mustaches. God they
were ugly. I looked at their dicks through film of smoke. They grabbed my
ankles and took hold of my knees and shook me real hard.

-Dance, dance boy !!

I finally decided to please them. I always loved to dance, and I had talent
for it. I made a few rounds, my own penis flapping like a bird wing to the
clapping of their hands that only drove me crazier.  I think no customer
was sitting at the front of the cafe. I had a full audience, cheering and
laughing. Finally, ht cheering died out, the light went out.

I called for Abdul but it only drew more laughter. They took me off stage
and carried me like a plank over their heads to another corner in which
stood a king-size bed.

-Me first, I heard one whisper.

-No, I paid Abdul a five thousand and you only half of it so I have most of
the time with him.

-Nothing of that, one intervened we all have a go at him and we put our
money together to pay whatever Abdul charges.

This seemed to be agreed on as no one of them said a thing. I lay on my
back with my arms at shoulder level, ready to be crucified. I had a dozen
of men crouching and kneeling around me. My skirt was torn away, a guy rest
his ball sac on my forehead and drew my jaw open, stuffed his dick between
my teeth. My legs were up; my hands were fastened on two cocks. My arse
cheeks filled, while another two were lapping my stomach and nipples.

It was unbelievable and I let it all happen. I drifted away in a deep kind
of sleep, occasionally feeling my arse being filled with another cock or my
mouth and tongue clasping another cut Turkish rod. A dozen men came inside
and on me. They showered me but not one had given me a blowjob. That part
arrived when out of the shower still wet, I looked up at Abdul. He kneeled
down and put his lips real soft around my glans, circumnavigated it, lapped
my balls. I released all I had in his deep throat.

-Thank you he said, I love you. I remember he cashed in before he left the
cafe.

-Next week, he said to the guys and winked at them.

We slept together till midday. Two days after I still felt the residue in
my head and groin.

-So how was your school excursion, my dad asked.

-Terrific dad, I answered.

He would have killed me had he known about it.

In my bedroom, under the mattress I found more porn magazines, none gay but
I wanked on them any way. I thought of Luc...when would I have sex again
with him? But I also thought of Abdul...was he my friend or was he turning
into a pimp?


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Aihufist@yahoo.com