Date: Thu, 1 Sep 2016 10:40:48 +0100 (BST)
From: "rampage938@btinternet.com" <rampage938@btinternet.com>
Subject: ARABIAN ADVENTURES  Part 3

The next morning was taken up with induction, having my security pass done
and various other 'administrative' matters pertaining to the
conference. The last thing I received was a crumpled copy of a message from
the Conference Centre informing me that I would not be required after these
essential matters had been attended to as the highest ranking military
delegates were going into closed session, involving high security and
exchanging a lot of technical gas-bagging. It therefore followed as day
follows night that ancillary staff such as myself were not required and
would not be allowed into the Centre that afternoon.  My hot young driver
Sohan had been officially selected to look after me during my stay in Al
Dhobaia as he was equivalent to me in rank and seniority. I had not had
much opportunity of striking up a conversation with him or with my
neighbours Abdullah and Nazim in trying to fix up another rendezvous one
evening. Sohan was the only bright spot as far as I was concerned and I had
been quite successful in persuading him to open up a bit about life in the
Arab army.  We were getting quite chatty during the rides to and from the
Centre and once or twice I had noticed him giving my crotch surreptitious
glances. I wondered if the two who were staying next door to me had been
talking to him about our zhig-zhig session the night before, which had got
him randy so that he was now up for a bit of rumpy-pumpy. If he was it
would not be too difficult for me to find time to entertain him before I
left. I had allowed him a glimpse of my semi hard-on tenting my tight
fitting khaki shorts and he had returned the favour. I judged him to be the
lucky possessor of a traditionally monstrous Arab prick.

My stint at the conference would be coming to an end after lunch on the
third day, but I would not be able to leave until the whole thing was
wrapped up, when I would travel back to the UK with the rest of the
delegation. This gave me a whole day and a half to myself and I knew this
would be the chance I'd been looking for. My lust was working overtime and
I had decided to abandon any thoughts of a randy quartet or even a quintet
if I was lucky and settle for what I could manage later that day. When
Sohan dropped me off at the hotel, before I went in I suggested he show me
round the city. He smiled and said, "Sure thing, Dick but I won't be able
to be with you. Daud also has the day off and will show you round. The jeep
will have to remain in the motor pool but you and Daud can get a jalopy (a
kind of shared taxi) into the 'Old Town.' I have a friend who lives near
there in a large apartment, which he calls 'My Harem' and he would love to
meet you. Have you been to a souk before?"

"I haven't got the faintest idea what that is, Sohan."

"Its a large covered market but there are many narrow pathways and stalls
selling every kind of thing you can imagine as well as street food
outlets. You can wander about for hours and tourists love the place and buy
most of their souvenirs there." He chuckled and gently tapped me on my
buttocks. This is getting interesting, a bit more like it, I thought. I
liked the idea also of having Daud to ogle at and had to restrain myself
from kissing Sohan for arranging it!

When I came down to the hotel lobby a couple of hours or so later, I had
changed into a white top, pale blue tight fitting jeans and a pair of white
trainers. Daud was standing outside the hotel, talking to the driver of a
rather battered looking old jalopy. He heard me approach and turned round,
instantly ogled my crotch and said, "Hello, sir. Sohan explained to you?" I
said everything was fine and I was ready to go. He seemed to have
difficulty in tearing his gaze away from the bulge in the front of my jeans
and I was getting hotter and hornier. On the way Daud explained to me some
of the do's and dont's in shopping in a souk and I got the impression that
I had to watch out for beggars and other ruffians and not to eat the food!
It did not take us long to reach the part of the Old Town where the souk
was situated. I had intended to wander through the souk to see if I could
find any suitable objects I could take back as souvenirs for the family. I
was about to ask Daud where the tourists went for souvenirs when he stopped
suddenly, turned round and ran off, leaving me standing for a moment
thinking, "What the fuck..." and begin running in an attempt to follow him,
but I soon lost sight of him in the dark maze of winding
passages. Suddenly, these opened out into a broader street lined on both
sides with open fronted stalls. I was deafened by the noise of vendors
yelling out the virtues of the goods on sale at their stall and competing
against radios at full volume blaring out Arabic music. Crowds of people
slowly wandered about and I joined them, amazed at what was on offer. I
eventually came to a stall which seemed to be the equivalent of an open air
Primark store with racks of menswear hanging from a rail. I paused and
watched people take down a couple of shirts, examine them intently, then
put them back on the rail, cough as if disgusted and walk off. A few of the
younger guys who passed by stopped, looked round somewhat sheepishly as if
they did not want to be seen, and pushed their way past the hanging shirts
and went inside. I paused and decided to take a look inside
myself. Stepping out of the glare from the sun into the dark I was
momentarily blinded and could hardly see where I was going. There were more
rows of hanging shirts, but of a much better quality and doubtless more
expensive than the ones outside. They were protected to some extent from
the glare of the sun by a white sheet hanging down in front of them.

Without warning, I found myself being pulled into a kind of changing area
by handsome young Arab. I made a half-hearted attempt to pull away but the
young man lifted the front of his robe and made me kneel down in front of
him. His massive cock was rigidly hard and he ran his cock head along my
lips. Without further assistance from him I opened my mouth and took his
cock into my mouth. There was no doubt what he wanted from me when his hand
reached behind my head and persuaded me to suck him. I took a mouthful of
his dick and began my favourite oral action, running my mouth up and down
his staff, encouraging him to begin fucking my face. He made peculiar
sounds as we worked faster and deeper until he suddenly pulled out of my
throat and mouth, forced me to bend over a wooden table and pulled my jeans
down. Using both hands, he rubbed my buttocks and then roughly pulled them
apart. As he did so, I heard him gasp, "Aaagh, zhig-zhig". Without any
further messing about, he forced his cock into me and began fucking me
hard, deep and fast. By now, of course, I had a raging hard-on myself. He
did not bother with the niceties and fucked me like an animal, grunting and
rasping all the while. He fucked me so hard I wondered how much longer he
would go before cumming.

By now, I was also making noises which seemed to encourage him even more. I
got carried away and quickly removed my shirt. I was now totally naked and
he was even hornier, fucking me so hard I could feel his hard balls hitting
my buttocks. Without warning, he pulled out of my ravaged arse and inserted
two fingers, which slid into me. He used them to fuck my hole and stretch
it to let his rampant cock even further in. I squirmed and groaned as he
was obviously close to his climax. Sure enough, he soon grunted, gasped and
increased the speed of his thrusts as he ejaculated deep into me. I felt
each bolt of sperm hit inside my hole. He pulled out of me and I felt the
last spurts of his cum fall on to my buttocks. He reached out and rubbed
his sperm over me as if he was giving me a massage. He moved away, leaving
me stretched over the table. He called out in Arabic and loudly slapped my
naked arse and stood back. I felt another large, heavy cock knocking at my
back door. There was no way I could avoid another fucking as the newcomer
wiped the leaking head of his dick up and down to lube my arsehole. Then he
pushed his monster into me right up to his balls. Mercifully, he began
fucking me slowly, using his dick at full length. I could tell this one was
bigger and thicker than the last one had been. He was panting heavily and I
was groaning again. He must have been aware that the other guy had fucked
me hard, as he suddenly pulled out of me and shot his load over my arse and
lower back. He turned me over and at last I could see him. He was the
blackest black man I had ever seen. His body was perfectly chiselled and
his cock was even bigger than I had thought. I grabbed hold of it and even
after shooting a load over my butt he had remained full hard-on. I could
not resist taking him into my mouth and down my throat, giving him one of
my best blowjobs. When I grabbed hold of his ebony balls and played with
them, he fucked my throat. For the first time I could recall, I never even
thought of gagging! Neither could I resist taking my cock in hand and
jerking it off like I had never cum that way before. As I sprayed a
seemingly endless jet of thick jism, I felt dizzy. I became aware of people
chattering close by and guessed they might be local customers. I picked up
my discarded clothes and dressed as quickly as possible, muttered a quiet,
"Merci bien, m'sieur" and scooted out of that place as quick as I could.

Hitting the street again, I sauntered on a bit further, intrigued by the
amount and variety of items on offer at a multitude of outlets. Having
recovered from my recent experience, I wandered into another stall which
this time seemed to be another menswear stall, specialising in shirts and
men's underwear. Looking at the shirts hanging from the rails towards the
rear of the stall, I was about to have a closer look at a garment which I
liked the look of. I pulled the hanger next to it to one side and came face
to face with two guys having a great time! I slid the shirt I had moved
back into place with a murmured, "Sorry, guys." One was European and the
other was a dark skinned very young local, the stall holder's under age
piece on the side, I guessed. I had caught them in the throes of a heavy
blow job. They were not attempting to be quiet and I judged they were not
far away from climaxing. I pulled the shirts aside and took up a position
standing half-way between them, where I could see what was going to
happen. My cock was pulsating madly, pushing against my jeans, my balls
tightening in their bag and my arsehole twitching. I could hardly believe
my luck. The white guy had his back to me (delightful bum!) and was bent
over, allowing his balls to hang where anyone could see them. The local guy
was standing facing him, with his hands resting on top of his partner's
arse and pulling his cheeks apart. I could not quite make out the guy's
hole as it was quite dark at that spot. Then he moved slightly as his
cheeks were parted a little more and I could now see his moist arse crack
and tight anus. I knew I ought to leave them to it, but something made me
look down at my crotch. I saw my jeans bulging like they never had before -
and I noticed a spreading damp patch just where my cock slit should
be. They had moved on and the white guy was taking every centimetre of that
large dark cock being slowly pushed in and out. I managed to catch a
glimpse of the lad being fucked. He had rested his head on a pile of soft
white Y-fronts. His head was turned towards me but I doubt very much if he
saw me. His mouth was wide open with short breaths and moans of pleasure
coming from it. "Oh, fuck it!" I thought and pulling the shirts on the rack
apart again, resume my voyeuristic position. I turned away again, faintly
embarrassed by my actions but sex is very powerful and I soon resumed my
ogling. The white guy was now lying on his back with his legs raised and
apart as far as they would go. The black guy had inserted three long
fingers into the lad's arse and was finger fucking him as the boy jerked
himself off, fast and furious.

I could not help grabbing the bulge in my jeans as I watched. The lad was
being well and truly rogered by the unhurried thrusts from the rampant dark
cock. The white lad was pulling on his cock fast enough to make his balls
bounce. Suddenly, he groaned and his hand slowed as thick white sperm
jetted forth, landing on his chest, belly and into his pubic hair. When he
had recovered himself he got up, grabbed his clothes and disappeared. As he
left the scene I pushed between the hanging shirts and dropped my
jeans. The dark Arab leapt on to the table where he had just fingered the
lad to a massive ejaculation. He sat on the cloth covering the table,
spread his legs wide and invited me to finger fuck his arse. I accepted the
invitation, of course, and pushed two fingers into his hole and bent
forward to take his generously proportioned cock deep down my
throat. Sucking him slowly and moving my other hand close to his hole in a
stroking movement which I knew meant, "Take your clothes off, boy, and bend
over that other table, get ready and I'll fuck you as you've never been
fucked before!" Never having been a slow-coach where sex is concerned, I
soon got my naked body into the required position. He entered me slowly,
gently and began fucking my arse. I could feel the heat, the velvety
blackness and heaviness of his dick as it began pumping into me slightly
faster with much stronger thrusts. The dark guy gave a subdued groan and
pulled out of me, ejaculating his sperm over my bum cheeks. Pulling me into
a standing position, he encouraged me to jerk myself off. He moved in
behind me, his hands wrapped around my chest and his still rampant cock
pressing stickily against my arsehole without penetrating me this time. As
I masturbated my cock, I felt his hands slowly and erotically sliding down
my torso until they came to rest on my pubic area, his fingers reaching
down and caressing my balls. My wanking hand moved faster and faster until
I let out a shout as I shot my sperm as far as I could. Reluctantly, I
dressed again and left the rail of hanging shirts.

I decided to retrace my steps back to the first stall I had gone into. I
was curious to see what lay further on in that direction. At first, very
little seemed to change and I went into the first stall that appealed to
me. This time, I seemed to have found a stall owner anxious to win the
local competition for the busiest, loudest and most money making owner in
the souk. He just could not stop gabbling at me in Arabic and conducted me
to a kind of special gift section of his stall. He evidently dealt in
decorative copper and brass wares, as well as some pieces of ceramics. I
know nothing about that kind of thing but I just could not make him
understand. He continued jabbering away and showed me some of what I took
to be his top of the range. The final thing was when he produced a kilt
like garment apparently made from raw silk, or something like it. It was of
an attractive aquamarine colour. He held it up for me to inspect and then
held it against his waist, allowing it to fall to its full length. He began
showing me how versatile it was, the first inkling I had that all was not
as innocent as he was making out. He was talking all the time, obviously to
try and confuse or distract me, pulling the skirt into all kinds of
positions, both in front and behind. As he took to shaping it over my bum,
he took the opportunity to feel me up by squeezing my buttocks once or
twice. To my surprise he handed the garment to me, took me behind a thin
curtain and invited me to try it on. I thought, "Why not? I'm under no
obligation to buy the fucking thing." So I took off my jeans to try it on
and, of course, silly old me had forgotten I was "going Commando" that day,
with the result that as I bent over to take off my jeans, anyone behind me
would get an eyeful of a well shaped nude arse. I was not aware that the
loquacious stall owner was eyeing me through a narrow parting of the flimsy
curtain.

I stepped into the 'kilt' and found the soft silkiness of the material did
something weird to my dick. I had no sooner pulled it up to my waist than I
had a full hard-on pushing out the front panel of the garment. He was
fussing around, trying to make it fit. His hands seemed to be everywhere,
particularly groping my stiff dick or feeling my arse. He soon changed his
tactics and slid the skirt down my legs, letting it end up on the floor. He
pushed me towards a small table and made me bend over it, exposing my arse
to his lascivious gaze and to being manhandled by his lecherous
hands. Without a word he pulled out his magnificent rigid dick and plunged
straight into my arse. He was by far the biggest one of the men who had
given me a taste of how hard Arabs can fuck. As I stroked my rigid dick, he
began fucking me really hard and fast, making me groan and almost yell with
the pain I was enjoying. He pulled out of me and leant back on a kind of
divan, pulling my head down until I could suck him. He began fucking my
mouth with strong thrusts. My arse was struck by hi hand very strongly,
causing me to shout with the pain, but this only encouraged him to continue
spanking me harder and harder the more I sucked on his rod. He threw me on
to my back, spread my legs as far as they would go and fucked me fast and
deep. I could feel his thrusts forcing my hole to expand further and
further to take his monstrous dick. He indicated he wanted me to get up and
sit on his cock and fuck myself with it. I simply could not stop wanking my
throbbing dick and I soon felt the cum rising up my shaft until it burst
out through his wide open cock slit. I was so taken up by my own pleasure
that I only realised he had simultaneously shot a load right up my
arse. When he had finished, he pulled out and forced me to lick his sperm
from his cock head and also lick up the traces of cum from his thighs,
which had dribbled from my hole when he had finished with me.

I did not purchase that strange garment nor did I linger in that
place. When I came out into the open air again, I was amazed to find it was
close to dinner time. I decided I would find my way back to the hotel and
some food before taking a shower and having a good night's recuperative
sleep. I was sauntering back towards where I had first entered the souk
when I heard a familiar voice calling my name. I looked round and saw Daud
coming towards me, smiling broadly. "Hi, sir. Have an interesting time in
our souk?" I nodded slowly, wondering how on earth he'd known where I would
be and seemingly knowing what I had been up to. He did not seem to be at
all sorry for having run off earlier, leaving me to face whatever. I told
him I wanted to go back to the hotel and get some food inside me, a shower
and then a quiet evening in my room. He offered to accompany me and so we
walked together until we found a cruising jalopy, which took us back to the
hotel. As Daud was known, of course, the fare was the absolute minimum and
I gave the driver an extra 'baksheesh'. "Oh, sir," exclaimed Daud, "that
will be all over the place by the morning and you will be well remembered
here."

When we got back to the hotel, Daud asked me before I went in if I was
working the next day. I told him I would be on full conference duty and
there would be little or no time for any hanky-panky but the day after I
would have the entire day off. The day after that, I would be going back to
the UK with the rest of the delegation. He reminded me of his friend's
invitation to visit his 'harem' and I replied I would consider that to be a
great honour and would be most interested in it. I asked him if it was
still an active harem as I understood they were officially banned and had
been for a long time. Daud grinned and said, "We call it his harem, but
there are no women there. Only men." With that, he laughed, shouted out the
word "zhig-zhig", jumped back into the old jalopy and roared away towards
the Old City.

To be continued. . .  after my return from a long anticipated and much
needed holiday.