Date: Fri, 11 Apr 2003 06:15:07 -0400
From: John Paul <john_paul@comcast.net>
Subject: The Alphabet Lovers: Omari

"JP, I think this camel hates me," Jake griped.

"The camel does NOT hate you, Jake," I argued.

"I'm serious.  Look at the way it's looking at me with those beady little
eyes."

"You're being ridiculous."  He was silent for the first time in an hour and
I thought I'd heard the last of Jake's bellyaching.  This whole desert trek
was his idea yet he was the one complaining incessantly about the heat, the
sand and the camel.

"Now YOU hate me," he whined.

"Yes, Jake, I hate you.  Now will you please shut up and enjoy the view."

"Fine," he relented.  "Oh hey, look!  Sand!  Oh oh, look there's some more
sand over there."

He continued with that line of shtick for another fifteen minutes, but I had
tuned him out fourteen minutes earlier.  Our guide, Omari, was much more
tolerant of Jake's behavior than I was.  In fact, from the constant smile he
wore, I'd hazard to guess he found Jake's monologue amusing.  Or else, he
was in a happy place in his mind, far away from reality.

"I apologize for my friend's manners," I told Omari.

"No need for apologies.  I'm just sorry he's not enjoying the trip," Omari
replied.

"He loves it, actually.  Complaining is just his way of preventing himself
from getting too excited."

Omari just nodded his head and smiled.  I don't think he got the humor -
what a waste of good quality sarcasm.  I decided to strike up a conversation
with the young Egyptian camel-rider.  Omari wasn't much of a talker, but it
beat the hell out of listening to Jake bitch and moan.

Omari told me that he was a Bedouin by birth, but had long given up the
nomadic ways of his tribe for more gainful exploits.  Occasionally, he'd
lead voyages through the desert for rich thrill seekers or self-proclaimed
explorers like us.  Omari was good at his job.  He was patient and kind - as
I hear most Bedouins are to foreigners - and, having lived in Cairo for
several years, he was well educated in the ways of city dwelling as well as
desert living.  When we met him in Cairo, he was dressed like a westerner in
a polo shirt and baggy blue jeans, making us doubt his authenticity.  In the
desert, however, he dressed in a jalabiyya - a long, hooded robe that was
the standard form of clothing throughout Egypt.  Even in that traditional
attire he didn't look very genuine.  The smooth, youthful features of his
perfectly sun-kissed face reminded me of a young Omar Sharif in "Dr.
Zhivago."

It was getting hot - very hot - even for me.  It was so hot Jake actually
stopped complaining.  We both slumped forward on our camels, sweating and
exhausted.

"We will stop now," Omari stated, noticing our discomfort and slowing his
camel to a halt.  "We will find shade under those rocks over there and have
a bite to eat."

We dismounted and walked our camels over to the shady area.  It was
surprisingly very cool and comfortable without the sun beating down on us.
I stretched out in the soft, white sand, pulled out my canteen, and quenched
my thirst in a few deep guzzles.  Jake lay on the ground beside me, half
comatose, begging for a spot to drink.  I poured the water right down his
throat, causing him to choke and sputter.  It was the first time I heard
Omari laugh.  It was a hearty laugh, straight from the gut.

"You two have a very strange relationship.  I find it intriguing," Omari
commented.

"Yeah," I replied.  "Most of the time he's a pain in the ass but, for the
most part, I love the big lug."

Jake smiled lazily and said, "Bite me," which was his way of saying he loved
me too.  How sweet.

We had a bite to eat and relaxed for a few minutes in the shade before
mounting our camels and continuing our trek through the desert.  We came
upon a grassy oasis just as the sun began to set.  It was there that Omari
informed us we'd be pitching a tent and spending the night beneath the
stars.

"Outside?" I asked.

"Yes, of course.  This journey would not be complete unless we spent a night
outdoors," Omari answered.

"Aren't there. tarantulas and scorpions out here?" I delved further.

"Yes.  Is this a problem?"

"No, no, of course not," I lied.  Jake smirked knowingly and made stupid
spider-like gestures with his fingers.

I slept fretfully that night.  Anything that brushed against my skin caused
me to jump and swat until I felt sure it wasn't some hairy arachnid having
its way with me.  Jake slept like a log through my fretful episodes and
Omari simple tolerated it.  I finally calmed down enough to fall asleep. at
least for a couple of hours.  Again something brushed against my leg and I
sat up in a fit of hysteria.

"Pansy," Jake mumbled in his sleep and rolled over.

I turned to see if I'd awakened Omari yet again, but he had left the tent.
I felt horrible.  I was sure he'd left because he couldn't put up with my
overactive arachnophobia anymore.  I thought I should find him and apologize
and maybe suggest I sleep outside where I could practice my hysterics alone.
I poked my head out of the tent expecting to see Omari camped out somewhere
nearby, but he was nowhere around.

It was a beautiful night.  Out in the boonies, with the nearest town several
miles away, there were no lights to obscure the thousands of points of light
in the heavens.  And the only thing that could be heard was the gentle sound
of sand stirring in the cool night air.  Actually, without the sun it was
downright chilly.  I wrapped up in a sheet and stepped out of the tent to
take in the beautiful view.

I walked to the edge of the oasis where the trees wouldn't block my view.
The moon was full and cast an eerie glow on the desert floor.  I looked out
over the sandy plain and, in the distance - maybe a hundred yards or so,
near a large rock formation - I spotted a flickering light.  It was too
bright for a candle or lantern; it looked like someone had started a fire.
So that's where he'd run off to.  I padded barefoot through the sand towards
the source of light.  As I approached, I could see the rocks formed an
almost complete circle about 20 feet tall.  When I got closer, I heard the
sound of humming and splashing water.  My curiosity was indeed piqued by
now.

I arrived at the rock enclosure and walked to the side where the light shone
the brightest and I reckoned where I would find the entrance to the circular
hold.  Sure enough there was a gap in the rocks.  I crept around to the
opening and poked my head around the corner to see what was going on.  I'm
not sure why I was sneaking around but, when I saw what I saw, I was glad I
was.

The rock structure surrounded a small pond.  The person humming was indeed
Omari entertaining himself while he bathed in the clear, desert water.  When
I found him, he was submerged up to his chin and was floating about freely.
A few minutes later, he dunked his head underwater then stood up in the
middle of the pool.  He had his back turned to me and I watched the water
stream down his body.  The water just barely covered his surprisingly full
ass.  I could make out the beginning of his crack just above the water line.
Omari slicked back his short, wavy black hair and more water flowed down his
spine and between his firm butt cheeks.

I liked what I saw.  I had no idea he was so sexy. or maybe it was just the
setting.  There's nothing sexier than the shimmer of wet flesh in dim
firelight - especially his.  It was so smooth and brown; almost like hot,
sticky apple butter.  How could I not find that sexy?  He slowly turned
around and I got my first glimpse at his chest and stomach.  I knew Omari
was a slender man, but seeing him wet and naked in the pool emphasized his
just how skinny he was.  He wasn't waifishly thin, but there wasn't an ounce
of fat on his body and he had very little musculature to speak of.  He had
two big, beautiful, dark brown nipples that just begged to be sucked and the
perfect button of a navel that needed a good lick or ten.  Further down I
caught a glimpse of his bush as it poked out of the water.  Of course that
made me wonder what kind of snake was nesting in that patch.

I caught myself whispering to him, asking him to step out of the water.
Then, as if he heard my plea, Omari walked to the edge of the pond.  The
closer he got, the more of his splendid tool came to view.  It was nothing
extraordinary as far as shape or size, but it looked so edible.  He emerged
from the water and a drop of water clung to the tip of his flaccid dick.  I
subconsciously stuck out my tongue, just slightly, imagining I could lick
the droplet away.

Omari was getting closer and closer - it was time for me to make my exit.  I
backed away from the alcove and, not paying attention to where I was going,
stumbled over a large rock.

"Who's there?" Omari called out.

What was I going to do now?  I had to play it cool like I'd just gotten
there and hadn't seen anything.  "Omari, is that you?" I yelled back.

"Yes, I'm over here."

I walked back to the enclosure and walked into the secluded oasis.  Omari
was still standing by the side of the pool, sopping wet and bare-ass naked.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't."

"No worries, my friend," he interrupted.  "My people don't find shame in our
bodies like your people do."

"It's not a matter of shame, it's a matter of privacy," I said defensively.

"Please, I meant no harm with my comment."

"I know you didn't.  I'm sorry.  I'm just a little edgy, I guess."

"Scorpions and tarantulas?"

"Yeah."

Omari spread out a blanket on the sand and laid down on it.  "Perhaps you
should take a dip in the pool.  The water is warm and soothing; it will help
you relax."

"No, I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why?  You're not ashamed are you?"  He grinned mischievously.

I'd been challenged.  I may be gay, but I'm also a man, and real men don't
take challenges lightly.  So, I threw off the sheet then started to unbutton
my shirt.  Omari carefully watched as I shucked my clothes.  Now, I was just
as naked as he was.  I stood there for a moment, watching him watching me.

"Perhaps you should consider getting in the water now," he suggested.

I nodded and stepped into the shallow spring.  It really was soothing to
feel the warm water rising up my thighs and around my hips.  I turned to see
Omari still lying on the blanket intently watching me wade in the water.
Being a couple of inches taller than him, the water didn't cover my naughty
bits.  In fact, my balls just grazed the water's surface.  There was nothing
lewd or lustful in his gaze, no lurid grin or horny crotch grabbing, but it
still made me feel uncomfortable to have him inspecting me so thoroughly.  I
don't know why I sometimes feel so self-conscious about my body, but I do.
I sat down in the water to conceal myself. As the water enveloped me, it
washed away all of the day's tension.

"You feel better already, don't you?" Omari asked.

"Yes, it feels great."

I stayed in the water for close to 30 minutes, I guess, before I decided it
was time to go.  I was feeling relaxed and ready for bed.  I stood up and
walked to the edge of the pool where Omari was resting and still dutifully
watching over me.  His eyes repeatedly took in every inch of my body - not
just my face, not just my genitals, but all of me.

"Why do you look at me like that, Omari?" I asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said.  "You are a truly magnificent creation of
Allah.  I am captivated by your beauty."

His words left me speechless and flushed.  "May I touch you?" he asked.  I
wasn't sure exactly where he wanted to touch me, but I agreed anyway.  Omari
stood up and placed his hands on my waist.  His hands glided softly over my
skin making the tiny hairs stand up.  It all seemed so innocent; as innocent
as one naked man fondling another man's naked body can be.  I don't think
his intent was to turn me on, but that's exactly what he was doing.  Every
inch of skin he examined sent waves of electricity through my body, straight
to my steadily hardening dick.

I kissed him.  My sudden gesture startled both of us, especially Omari, but
he didn't resist or pull away.  No, in fact, he kissed me back.  He must
have learned how to kiss in the big city; there was nothing simple or
pastoral about the way he chased my tongue with his or the way his hand
grabbed my stiff prick.  With one kiss, what once could have been believed
as innocent touching and adoration, quickly became unmistakably sexual.  He
squeezed my cock with his rough, sand-worn hands.  I gasped, thus ending our
firm lip-lock on each other.

I gazed into his eyes and got lost in the dark pools of animalistic lust.
Then I stared down at his dick which was now as hard as mine and staring
back up at me from his thick, curly patch of black hair.  I grabbed it and
we slowly jacked each other for a while, occasionally showering the other in
soft kisses.  Omari's dick was long and slender with an abundance of skin
that slid up and down the length of his seven-inch shaft as I pumped it.

Omari gave me one last kiss on the lips, pulled my hand away from his prick,
and then dropped to his knees before me.  He carefully considered my raging
hard-on, giving it a few quick strokes before aiming at his mouth.  His lips
parted to accept my fat prick.  He sucked vigorously on the first two or
three inches of my dick while squeezing and stroking the remainder.  His
tongue swirled around the head, lapping up the precum as quickly as it
dripped out.

I had to have more of my cock in that hot mouth of his.  I ran my fingers
through his thick, wavy hair, coaxing him to swallow more of me.  Like the
gracious host he was, Omari indulged my subtle suggestion and soon had five,
seven, nine inches in his mouth and down his throat.  One more gulp and his
rough, stubble-covered chin was scratching against my sac.

"Ooooh!  Yeah, Omari that feels great," I encouraged, stroking his head and
thrusting my hips forward.

His throat steadily massaged my cock head while his tongue snaked out and
lapped at my nuts.  I could have popped right then, but I wanted this to
last a while.  I pulled my dick out his mouth and let him suck on the tip
before I fed the whole thing back down his throat again.  His mouth was so
accommodating.  I pulled it out again and let him work on my balls for a
while.  They bounced around on his flickering tongue before he sucked both
of them into his mouth and massaged them with his lips.

He let my nuts pop out of his mouth then lay down on the blanket.  With his
legs slightly lifted, he started fingering his hole.  At first his finger
just circled the tight, rucked up entrance, spreading it open for me to see.
While I stood there, transfixed by the sight of his pretty brown hole, Omari
was busy sucking on the fingers on his other hand.  He lowered the slick
fingers to his hole and inserted them, one at a time, until he had three of
them lodged in his manhole.  His tiny hole stretched tightly around his
fingers and Omari let out a deep groan.  He fingered himself slowly, all the
while looking up at me with lust-filled eyes.

My dick was throbbing, dripping, begging for the opportunity to fuck him.  I
dropped to my knees and positioned myself between his legs.  My cock was
poised at the entrance to his ass which his fingers were currently opening
up.  I dropped a wad of spit on his hole and let him work it into his chute.
I dropped another wad of spit on my cock and coated my thick shaft.  I,
then, pulled his hand away and rested the tip of my cock at his nicely
stretched cumhole.  With one smooth motion, my cock popped through the tight
ring guarding his treasure then tunneled deep into his tight, velvety
bowels.  We groaned in unison as my dick settled into his ass - it was a
perfect fit.

Omari grabbed the back of his knees and lifted them to his chest to give me
unrestricted access to his goods.  I adjusted my position and let the
fucking commence.  Omari's silky ass hugged my dick tightly with every
thrust.  He grunted and growled every time I rammed deep inside him.  My
balls slapped against his smooth, round ass to emphasize the force with
which I was reaming him and, from the looks of his hard, oozing cock, he was
loving every, powerful stroke.

As much as I enjoyed watching his face twist up while I pounded his hole, I
really wanted him on his stomach so I could give him a more proper and
thorough plowing.  I pulled my dick out of his snug pit and turned him over.
Omari sprawled out on the blanket, lifted his hips and once again offered
full admission to his magnificent rectum.  I spread his cheeks apart to look
at his gaping hole.  There was no way I was about to decline that offer.  I
dropped another wad of spit on his sizzling crack and hastily plunged back
into his depths.  From this position I could really open him up.

"Unh. unh. so big. so good," he rambled.

He arched his back to try and get more of my fat prong in him, but he
already had all ten inches crammed down his splendid hole.  I slowed it down
so he could feel every inch of my dick burrowing into him and so I could
savor his unyielding tightness.  After about twenty minutes of me
long-dicking him, Omari's body started to convulse.  His ass clamped onto my
cock as he came.  I wiggled around inside of him to intensify his orgasm and
in doing so triggered my own release.

I shoved my dick in as far as it would go and dumped my thick, creamy load
deep into the recesses of his body.  His quivering cumhole milked every drop
out of my aching cock.  I collapsed on top of him as the last shivers of
orgasm ripped through our sweaty bodies.  I remained firmly implanted in his
sticky, cum-filled ass, not willing to surrender its inviting warmth.  I was
still hard and ready for another round.  I gently humped him a few times to
signal my readiness.

"Mm, you are truly wonderful," he moaned.  "And as much as I'd like to feel
you inside of me all night, I think you should return to the tent now."

"B-but."

"We have a long day ahead of us and you need your rest."

I pulled out of him and sat back.  He turned over and looked at me.
Obviously noticing the look of disappointment on my face, he said, "There
will be other opportunities for us to be together."

I smiled and nodded.  I gathered my clothes and left Omari in the secluded
alcove.  I stumbled through the cold desert sand, dressing along the way,
until I made my way back to our little camp in the oasis.  I crept into the
tent and collapsed on the ground next to Jake.  He woke up and looked over
at me through sleepy eyes.

"Where've you been?" he asked.

"I couldn't sleep so I took a little walk to relax."

Jake stared at me for a minute then said, "You fucked the Bedouin dude,
didn't you?"

"No!  What are you talking about?"  I don't know why I was hiding it.  I
just didn't feel like sharing the experience with Jake.

"Yes you did!  I can see it in your eyes."

"Stop being such an ass.  I'm just tired, that's all."

He sniffed the air.  "Then why do you smell like ass and cum?"

I rolled over, refusing to continue the conversation any further.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said and rolled over to go back to sleep.
"You selfish bastard, you could have at least let me tag along for the
ride."

I didn't respond.  All I wanted to was sleep.  And sleep I did.  Neither
spider nor scorpion would wake me from my post-coital coma.  I woke up the
morning, refreshed and ready to take on the next leg of our desert trek.  It
was one more day out and two days back to the hotel - and three more nights
of hot, desert sex with Omari.