Date: Tue, 18 Nov 2008 20:03:59 -0800 (PST)
From: John Black <blackhunk33@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Saracen, Chapter 1

				The Saracen

				 Chapter 1

	Sir Hugues, Duke of Toulouse, awoke slowly.  His head throbbed
painfully.  His whole body ached.  "Where am I," he wondered.  "What
happened?"  He rolled to his side and winced.  The shooting pain in his
ribs convinced him to move more deliberately.  His cell was dark.  Was it
night or was he buried in a deep dungeon?  He'd never know laying there
immobile.

	Gingerly, he sat erect, favoring his left side.  At a minimum he
had bruised ribs.  Worse possibilities flooded his mind, but he pushed them
aside.  His right hand moved to his head, hoping to relieve some of the
pain.  His scalp was crusty with dried blood.  What in the name of all
that's holy caused this?  He tried to stand, but fell back heavily on to
the straw bed he'd been laying on.

	He glanced about the small room, discerning dark shapes, but no
persons.  He looked up carefully and spied a grated opening.  Perhaps
that's a window, he hoped.  Again, he tried to get up, but this time much
more slowly.  Favoring his left side, he stood beside his bed and gazed up
again.  He could possibly jump up to it, grab hold of the bars, and pull
himself up to peer out.  He felt a slightly cool breeze flow over him from
the opening.  Perhaps, it was a window to the outside and not a dungeon.
In his current condition with impaired ribs, he didn't dare risk further
injury.  He'd investigate later.

	Subconsciously, he'd been taking an inventory of his heavily
muscled body, his hands moving slowly along his bulging shoulders and arms,
his long, trim torso, and down his heavily muscled thighs.  His armor was
missing, his suit of chainmail, too.  So was his quilted padding.  Only his
linen undergarments remained.  His feet were bare.  Clearly, I'm a
prisoner, he concluded.  In a flash of clarity, it all rushed back to him.

	He'd been in a horrendous battle.  The Crusader army was being
badly mauled.  He had tried to stay close to the King of Jerusalem, but the
tide of battle had separated him from his brethren.  Sir Hugues had fought
valiantly, but to no avail.  He'd hewn down several adversaries with his 14
pound broadsword, but a giant of a man had confronted him and bashed him on
the helmet with a mace.  It must have been a glancing blow, because a
direct hit would have killed him.

	Now, here he was, in a cell, a prisoner.  Surely they'd ransom him.
He wasn't without property and gold.  He'd sell off some part of his
holdings and be home a free man soon, he hoped.  That is, if they knew who
he was.

       Well, they must know.  Otherwise, I'd be dead.  Ransom for a live
prisoner is far more lucrative than a dead body.  Once more, he looked up
at the grated opening.  He stretched up his right hand and could touch the
casement, but didn't want to reach farther as his left side stabbed him
with searing pain.  Best to leave that for later, he counseled himself,
again.

	For several more hours, he looked and probed about his cell.
Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  Well, if you call a pot to piss and shit in
"something", then you could also say that his cell was luxuriously
furnished.  The pain in his head had subsided though, so that was a
blessing.  But, his ribs still hurt like the very Devil.  Even a deep
breath was taxing.

	One thing he did deduce.  He was above ground.  The walls of his
cell were bone dry.  A dungeon, even in this arid climate, would have some
moisture on it.

	Finally, the square of a window above him lightened.  Daybreak was
coming.  Maybe, he'd know more soon.  But, all he saw was one
haggard-looking, old man who dropped some flat bread and a thin stew into a
trencher and passed it through the door to him.  There was no room to get a
hand through and accost the man.  He called out to him, but his Arabic was
too limited to converse.  His French was pointless in this Godless land, he
told himself.

	But, from an adjacent cell, he heard another prisoner speak up.
"Your Grace!  Is that really you?" a familiar voice rang out.  Pierre!  My
faithful squire, the Duke smiled.

	"Pierre!" Hugues shouted back.  "How did you get in here?"

	"Same way you did, Sire," Pierre replied.  "I was captured."

	"Are you injured?"

	"No.  When you went down, I tried to protect you.  I was pathetic
next to that giant Saracen.  He pulled me away, tossed me to one of his
men, and dragged you away," Pierre revealed.  "You were unconscious, or
you'd have gutted the heathen."

	"Where's my armor?"

	"I've no idea, Sire," Pierre responded.  "They threw me in here
before I could protest, or know what had become of you."

	"How long have I been unconscious?"

	"Since the battle yesterday, Your Grace."

	"I awoke in the middle of the night.  I thought I was alone and in
a dungeon," the Duke said.  "Are they feeding you?"

	"Such as it is," Pierre muttered.  "Not much, but better than
starving."

	"I'm pleased that they spared you, old friend."

	"As am I," Pierre laughed.

	"I'm sure they'll ransom us," the Duke said, hoping to lift their
spirits.

	"We can always hope."

	More days went by, the same food, no word from their jailers, no
change in the hot weather.  Weekly, the excrement pot would be emptied and
a new one put in its place.  Boredom was becoming more of a problem than
anything.  Sir Hugues could move about easily now.  His ribs had healed
enough that he could pull himself up to the window and survey what was
around them.  It wasn't much.  His cell looked out over a courtyard of
sorts, no plants, just dust.  Across the way was another low building.
Probably more prisoners in cells, he decided.  He tried yelling across to
them, but got no response.  He and Pierre had tried to rouse other
prisoners in their building, but they had been greeted with silence.

	Despite the meager rations, Hugues was determined not to idle the
hours away.  He continued his physical training, using the walls and door
as resistance points to keep his muscles tight.  He pulled himself up on
the window bars several times a day until his arms quivered with
exhaustion.  He ran in place to keep his legs limber and firm.  The Duke
encouraged Pierre to exercise too, but his squire didn't see the point.
Pierre was discouraged.

	Finally, after nearly a month (Pierre had been keeping track of the
days), their jailer appeared.

	"Your Crusader friends have battled bravely, Sir Hugues," the
stranger said in passable French, "but, they have lost.  Now, I can decide
what to do about you and your squire."

	"You know who I am?"

	"Of course, Hugues.  You are the Duke of Toulouse, a man of much
property and wealth.  If you cooperate, you will be ransomed and sent
home," the stranger added through the door.  "But, you must promise never
to set foot here again, or you will stay in this cell until you die.  The
choice is yours."

	"What of my man, Pierre?" the Duke wondered.

	"He will be my envoy back to your home to arrange the ransom."

	"Did you hear that, Pierre?  You are to be set free!"

	"But, what of you, Your Grace?"

	"I think our benefactor will take good care of his golden goose."

	"That I will," the stranger laughed.  "But, more befitting your
station, you will be moved to more comfortable quarters this afternoon.
Your friend will go with you.  After I have set the amount, I'll send him
off."

	"Does my jailer have a name?"

	"You may call me Abdullah," the voice replied.  "And please, don't
insult my intelligence by trying to escape.  You are in the middle of my
garrison.  You are the only one of your coloring within many miles.  As an
Infidel, you'd be immediately caught and beheaded.  Let's be civilized
about this."

	Sir Hugues shrugged to no one in particular, but knew Abdullah was
probably right.  Without food, water, and the proper clothing, he wouldn't
last a day if he tried to escape.  A fool's errand, he told himself.

	Meanwhile, they had been moved to an apartment with separate
sleeping quarters, a living space with a table, and better food.  They
finally did see their jailer.  Yes, he was the same giant who had bashed
Sir Hugues in the head.  He was a very black Arab, standing a good head
taller than Hugues and even more heavily muscled and broad shouldered than
the Duke was.  And the Duke was renowned for his physical prowess and bulky
musculature, but their jailer made Hugues look puny by comparison.

       They filled their hours with polishing and repairing the Duke's
chainmail and armor.  Daily, Sir Hugues practiced with his armor and
chainmail on, but always in the shade and only in the early hours of the
morning.  Without a broadsword, the Duke was forced to use a large branch.
It wasn't the same, but close enough to give his muscles a good workout.
At the end of the month, Abdullah was sparring with him.  Each time,
Abdullah bested him.  Sir Hugues wasn't agile enough to ward off the
multiple blows the Arab rained upon his body and head.  Even with the armor
off, the 60 pounds of chainmail made Hugues clumsy and slow.  No small
wonder that the big Arab had beat him so handily on the battlefield.
       Within a week after their move, Abdullah forced them to discard
their rags and bathe.  The Frenchmen wasn't very keen on the idea, but knew
they must do as their jailer directed.  Bathing was something rarely done.
They knew from lore that it only encouraged illness.  But, their Arabic
host would have none of their truculence and insisted that they bathe
weekly or more frequently if they began to stink.  After another month,
they looked forward to washing off the daily dust and putting on fresh
clothing.

	The Duke noticed that Abdullah had always been watching when they
bathed.  He seemed to take particular interest in the Duke's dick, balls,
and especially his ass.  Abdullah watched closely to be sure those parts
were well cleaned.  Hugues was sure that Abdullah's large dick was tenting
the Arab's billowing trousers on several occasions.  As a test, he
languished in the bath longer than Pierre did one afternoon.  He leisurely
dried himself off, being sure to bend over with his hard, muscled ass
pointed at his jailer.  Looking between his legs, he saw Abdullah grab his
very large dick and squeeze it.  He was sure he heard the big, dark Arab
moan with pleasure.

	When Hugues turned, he spied a wet spot on the Arab's tented pants.
Hugues smiled.  Abdullah was a Sodomite.  Filthy, disgusting perverts, a
priest had told him.  Hugues had been warned about such people by his own
priest when Hugues was a teen and his hormones were raging.  However, he
found that particular priest fucking one of the acolytes the very next day.
So, he wasn't so sure that what the priest had said was true.  In point of
fact, when Hugues had been knighted at the age of 16, his squire had
suggested that Hugues use Pierre's ass to pleasure himself until such time
as Hugues married.  At first, he recalled the words of his priest, but
dismissed the admonishment when he recalled the priest buggering the young
acolyte.

       He and Pierre had been sexual partners for eight years now.  Hugues
had never permitted a dick in his ass, nor had Pierre asked to fuck him.
Pierre was there to please his master, that was all there was to it.  As
soon as Abdullah had moved them to their apartment from the cells, they'd
resumed their sexual trysts.

       But, now, his jailer was interested in his ass.  He'd have to watch
himself in the future or Abdullah would ravish him.  He would be especially
vulnerable when Pierre left to seek his ransom and Hugues would be alone
with his sexual needs and urges.  Several times during military campaigns
when there was no privacy for Hugues and Pierre to indulge themselves, it
was only by mere chance that they'd been able to satisfy Hugues' needs with
a fast blowjob before someone caught them.

	This wasn't always about the Duke's sexual needs.  Pierre truly
seemed to enjoy their couplings.  Most times, Pierre spilled his seed on
the ground or the bed while Hugues planted his seeds deeply into Pierre's
eager rump.  The Duke had never sampled Pierre's creamy seed, but had
licked the milky discharge from his fingers after pleasuring himself a few
times.  He found the taste pleasant, but was never tempted to try Pierre's.
Pierre was beneath him.  It was impossible to share something that intimate
from an underling.  It wouldn't be right!

	A ransom of 50,000 gold crowns was to be paid within a year.  If
the funds weren't brought to Abdullah, the Duke would be killed.  Pierre's
task was set.  Abdullah sent Pierre out with a dozen of his men and
sufficient funds to buy passage on a ship to take him to Marseilles.  There
he would find his own way back to the Duke's lands in the southwest of
France.  Hugues handed Pierre a few gold coins that had been sewn into his
quilted padding for his passage from Marseilles.  "It should be enough to
purchase a horse to get you home from Marseilles," Sir Hugues had directed.
"Make haste, my friend!"

	With a final night in the Duke's bed (and three loads of Sir
Hugues' ball honey deep in his ass), Pierre departed the next morning with
Abdullah's entourage.  Late in the afternoon, Pierre's escorts returned.
The Duke's squire had been seen safely aboard a trading ship bound for
France.  Reprisals were threatened against the ship's crew and their
families if Pierre didn't arrive safely at his destination.

	Abdullah shared the information with Hugues as they bathed together
that evening.  The small pool was intimate, but not crowded.  Hugues had
seen the Arab naked many times before and always marveled at the heavily
muscled frame and thick, long dick and large ball sack that swung between
his jailer's legs.  More than once, the black dick looked bigger than
normal.  And normal or flaccid was nearly as big as Hugues' was hard.
Hugues had wondered in a moment of fantasy if Abdullah's father had been a
stallion.  The man's dick was so big and black!

	"Your skin is so white," Abdullah commented.  "Even with the sun,
your skin darkens only slightly."

	"Yes, my skin is fair and it burns easily in the hot sun of your
land," Hugues agreed.

       Abdullah reached over and touched the Duke's chest, enjoying the
hard muscles beneath the skin.  He smiled when he noticed that Hugues'
right nipple rose to a point.  He touched it lightly, eliciting a sigh from
Hugues.  Many nights, Abdullah had listening to the pleasured cries of
Pierre as Hugues pounded his servant's ass.  Abdullah nearly always jetted
out his load when he heard Hugues climax noisily, with the release of the
Duke's blasting man juices into his squire's eager ass.  His prisoners
coupled nearly every night and sometimes during the day.  Whether that was
from being overly sexed or from boredom, Abdullah didn't care.  He knew
that Hugues was a man who needed frequent sexual release.

	The Arab noticed the Duke's swelling dick beneath the water's
surface.  Emboldened, his right hand found the Duke's left nipple equally
aroused.  Another sigh of pleasure escaped the Duke's lips.  Their eyes
were closed, allowing the delicious sensations to envelop them.

	Slowly, Abdullah rose and stood before the Duke.  His monstrous
dick bounced heavily, stretching out toward his prisoner's mouth.  The more
the Arab worked the Duke's nipples, the harder Hugues stroked his dick.
The Frenchman's mouth opened in pleasure and Abdullah leaned forward,
pressing his bloated dick between Hugues' lips.

	Startled, the Duke opened his mouth to protest, but succeeded in
sucking in farther the large, black dick between his lips, and pressing it
to the back of his throat.  He raised his hands to push Abdullah away, but
the Arab's hands on the back of his head were insistent.  Abdullah knew his
dick was big and rarely swallowed by another man, so he carefully didn't
press his male weapon too deeply.  Hugues stared up at him, seemingly
begging to be released.  But, Abdullah only smiled down at him.  With slow
thrusts and withdrawals, his huge dick grew harder and wetter.

	"Do not bite me, Hugues, or your life will be forfeit," Abdullah
warned.  "I know you have been fucking Pierre every day.  You are no
stranger to sex with another man."  He released the Duke for a moment, but
kept his hands on the back of his prisoner's head.

	"But, I've never had another man's manhood in my mouth," Hugues
protested.

	"Time you learned the pleasure of it," the big Arab smiled.  "And
you must have had your dick in Pierre's mouth, eh?"  Hugues looked down,
not willing to answer the question.  "I assumed as much," Abdullah
concluded.  "It is better when both men enjoy each other, not just one
way."

	"Pierre enjoyed it," Hugues defended.  "He told me many times."

	"I'm sure he did," Abdullah agreed.  "You have a big dick and I'm
sure your loads are large too, from the looks of your heavy nut sack."
Hugues could only smile at the compliment.  "I think it's time that you
enjoyed the full range of sexual pleasures with a man," the black Arab
concluded.  He took Hugues by the hand and pulled him from the bath.  The
Duke's big dick pointed upwards and throbbed in time to his heartbeat.
They walked into the airy bedroom of the Arab, and they lay together on the
soft bed.

	Hugues touched the hot, black steel that jutted out from the black
man's crotch.  It was nearly too thick to get his hand around and long
enough to have more than half of it not in his mouth when he tried to suck
on it again.  The Arab returned the favor, devouring Hugues' throbbing dick
eagerly.  Both men could taste precum oozing from the thick meat in their
mouths.  The more they sucked on each other, the closer they got to climax.
Hugues warned Abdullah of his impending climax, but Abdullah only grunted
and sucked harder.  The Duke knew it was pointless to resist the rising
tide of pleasure.  His hips pushed faster and faster into the sucking mouth
on his dick.  Hugues' body jerked as the first wave crashed over him and
his dick fired.  The dick in his mouth swelled and jerked.

	Instantly, he tasted cum in his mouth, but he couldn't pull away.
His firing dick had total control over him.  Each time he sprayed another
creamy rope of juice into Abdullah's mouth, his own mouth flooded with
cream.  It was like he was pleasuring himself with a blowjob and drinking
the results.  He'd often wondered what it would be like to suck himself
off.  But, with his height and musculature, that was impossible.

	More juice jetted from his dick.  More juice jetted into his mouth.
He had to swallow before it ran out of his lips.  Again he swallowed.  So
much dick honey had fired from the black monster he was sucking on.  He
focused on the big, heavy nuts at the base of the thick, black shaft.  No
small wonder he was drinking so much man juice.

	Hugues wondered why he'd allowed his jailer to force him to suck
his dick and why he'd swallowed the big Arab's load of juice.  He's never
considered that with Pierre.  Why this man?  He could tell himself that his
captor was his equal and maybe he was, but more realistically, Hugues was
captivated by the huge dick and the beautiful body that lay next to him.

	They rolled apart to catch their breath.  Abdullah turned around so
he could face the Frenchman.  "I knew you'd taste good," he smiled.  "And
you're very good at sucking dick, especially if this was your first time."
Hugues blushed.  Abdullah laughed.  "I didn't mean to embarrass you, but
you are good.  And your white, muscular body excites me.  I haven't cum
that fast in a very long time."

	Hugues smiled back, less embarrassed now at the frank talk.  "I
usually cum too fast, but Pierre doesn't minded.  Most of the time, we
don't have much time to couple, so it works out for us."

	Abdullah moved in and kissed him gently on the lips.  Hugues had
never been kissed by a man, but the black man's full lips felt so good on
his, better than any woman he'd kissed.  He kissed him back harder.  Soon
their tongues were wrestling for supremacy, but more likely, scooping out
pockets of cum hidden in each other's mouths.  The big Arab rolled atop Sir
Hugues, supporting most of his muscled upper body on his elbows.  Again,
they kissed.  Abdullah's long dick began to lengthen again.  It slithered
between the Duke's legs and lodged beneath Hugues' nuts.

	"You don't seriously think you're going to fuck me with that horse
dick, do you?" Hugues declared with panic in his voice.  Abdullah smiled
down at him.

	"Only when you're ready," he replied.

	"That'll be never," Hugues insisted.  "It's enormous!" he added,
but allowed Abdullah's thick snake to slide deeper between his legs and
rest threateningly against the Duke's back door.

	"Perhaps," the Arab allowed.  He moved down the Duke's body,
kissing and licking as he descended.  Abdullah kissed the erect nipples,
sucked the sticky, wet dickhead into his mouth to clean off the last
dribbles of cum, and licked and sucked on the Duke's nuts gently.  Hugues
moaned with pleasure.  He spread his legs to allow Abdullah more access.

	That was exactly what the big, black man wanted.  He pushed Hugues'
legs into the white man's chest and blew hotly on the Duke's tight puckered
hole.  Without warning, Abdullah buried his face in the Duke's ass and
began to eat him out, shoving his tongue forcefully against Hugues' tight
hole.

	"What are you doing?" Hugues throatily demanded.  "Oh, OH!" he
moaned, enjoying the sudden spike in pleasure.  "Oh, you mustn't!  OH!" he
cried, pulling his legs more tightly into his chest.  Abdullah continued to
service his white prisoner with his long, wet tongue.  "Oh, yes, like
that!" the Duke instructed, pushing Abdullah's head harder into his
upturned ass.  "Oh, do that!"  For another five minutes, the big Arab ate
out his ecstatic prisoner.

	Finally, Abdullah inserted a big, wet finger and massaged his new
conquest's prostate.  "You like this even more, don't you?" he smiled down
at Hugues.

       The Duke thrashed beneath him, unable to respond.  His swollen,
white dick jerked and leaked on to his cobblestone abs.  Another finger
slid up his hole.  "Oh, FUCK!  I'm gonna cum!" the Duke roared.  In a
flash, Abdullah's mouth closed over the swollen head and he sucked hard.
His fingers continued their massage of Hugues' prostate.  He felt the
Duke's manhole clamp down tight.  A flood of dick juice shot into his
mouth, telling him how successful he'd been.  It wasn't as bountiful as the
first load, but it was more than most men would have shot after having
nutted so soon before.

	With his climax waning, Hugues lowered his legs on to Abdullah's
shoulders.  "Amazing!  I had no idea it could be that good," he crowed.
"Is that what it feels like to get fucked?"  Abdullah ignored the question
for a moment, having gone back to eating out the Duke's ass again,
stealthily pushing Hugues' nut juice up the white man's asshole with his
tongue.  He continued to eat out the writhing man beneath him as Hugues
moaned with renewed and mounting pleasure.  "You're so good at this!  Do
you give all your men this kind of service?"

	Abdullah smiled.  "Well, only the rare ones who deserve it."  Once
more, Hugues blushed.  The Arab pushed leaking cum from Hugues' hole back
inside with a finger, then two.  His own dick was throbbing so hard it
nearly hurt.  His heavy nuts were begging for release.  "Relax, Hugues," he
whispered.  "I'm not going to hurt you."  The Duke had tightened up,
fearing that Abdullah was going to try to fuck him with that monstrous,
black horse dick.  There was no way something that big could go up his
virgin ass.

	Or so he thought.

	Pushing the Duke's legs back on to his shoulders, Abdullah
positioned his huge dick against the tight, white pucker.  He rubbed it
against the opening gently, smearing precum generously around the entrance.
"Just relax," he said softly.  "I won't hurt you."  He leaned in and kissed
the muscular man beneath him as he continuously rubbed his swollen dick
against the entrance to pure bliss.  He'd enjoyed deflowering man virgins
before, but this one would be his best.  He'd always enjoyed white men,
their muscular asses, their ability to eventually take all he had to offer
before he tired of them and found another tight hole to seed.

	But, this one seemed different.  There was chemistry between them,
especially when they kissed.  It was like his soul was being pleasured and
plundered at the same time.  He knew in his heart that he could easily fall
in love, something that he promised himself he'd never do with an Infidel!
However, affairs of the heart rarely made sense.

	Hugues had relaxed into the ardent kisses he was receiving.
Abdullah guided his swollen dickhead to the opening and pressed gently.
His steely dick overpowered the Duke's sphincter and he slipped inside.
The thick, long dickhead popped through the opening.  Hugues' asshole
clamped hard behind the flared head.  The Frenchman's body jerked at the
sudden invasion, but he didn't pull away.  Abdullah broke the kiss.
"You're good?" he asked.  Hugues nodded slowly, not sure whether he was or
not.  "I'm very close," Abdullah warned.

	"I don't know if I can take anymore," Hugues allowed.  "You're so
thick."

	The big Arab leaned into him and slid another inch inside.  The
knight didn't flinch like he had during the first invasion.  Abdullah
wanted to go deep and plant his seed, but he wasn't sure how much more
Hugues could take.  He withdrew to the head and tried to slide deeper.
Again, he stopped after another new inch slipped in.  With practiced
strokes, Abdullah stretched and spread Hugues' ass tunnel until he had the
entire 10" shaft and 2" head inside.

	But, it couldn't last.  Somehow, Hugues discovered how to control
his ass muscles.  With one squeeze, he pushed Abdullah over the edge and
the big Arab began to spray the walls of the knight's ass with creamy nut
butter.  The climax overwhelmed him; he couldn't stop fucking or cumming.
The pleasure was nearly enough to make him pass out.  He shuddered hard
with a final pump of dick juice.

	Breathing hard, he kissed Hugues passionately, his dick still
buried deeply.  It felt like he shot as much cum up the Duke's ass as he
had earlier into the Duke's mouth.  He'd never been so deeply moved by sex
before.  This was amazing!

	When they broke their kiss, Hugues was smiling up at him.  "I had
no idea it could be this good or this easy," he whispered lustily.  "Is it
always like this?"

	Abdullah leaned in and kissed him again.  "No, not always.  In
fact, rarely.  I don't think I've ever cum that hard or that much on a
second mating.  It has to be you who inspired me so much.  We are so
perfectly matched."  The big, black man let Hugues' legs fall off his
shoulders, but his long dick remained deeply planted inside.  A few minutes
later, it slipped out, spent.

       They lay in each other's arms for several more minutes before Hugues
asked, "Would you let me fuck you?"

	Abdullah smiled broadly.  "Only if I can fuck you, again."

	Hugues grinned.  "Can I eat your ass like you did to me?"

	"As long as you like," his jailer replied.  "I love getting my ass
eaten out nearly as much as I love to fuck a tight, muscular ass like
yours."  He paused for a moment.  "And I'm sorry that I didn't fuck you
longer, but I couldn't hold back."

	"Just as well," the Duke responded.  "I'm not sure how much more my
virgin ass could have taken.  You are very big and VERY long!  When you
were cumming, I was sure I was going to explode with the deep ramming I was
getting from you."

	Abdullah flipped over on to his stomach, presenting Hugues with a
very hard, very black, and very muscular bubble butt.  Hugues bent over and
pried apart the black glutes and bathed the deep pucker with his tongue.
Abdullah moved his ass back into the Duke's face, allowing his ass cheeks
to spread more and more.  He even assisted by using his own hands to spread
his ass, so the Frenchman could explore his nearly virginal hole with more
tongue action.

	The big Arab recalled fondly the first time he'd been fucked.  It
was by his older cousin, Hakeem.  He was much lighter skinned than Abdullah
was and his dick wasn't nearly as big, but it felt huge in Abdullah's ass
when Hakeem finally got it all in.  They were in their mid-teens when
they'd done the deed.  For a few months prior, they'd greedily been sucking
each other off.  Abdullah was the first one to suggest that they fuck.
Hakeem was not so sure, given the monstrous dick that Abdullah had.  But,
with yogurt as their lube, Abdullah successfully entered and nutted deeply
inside his cousin.  The same night, Hakeem took Abdullah's cherry.

	From that day forward, they had fucked each other every night.
Only when they had gone to war against the Infidels had their sexual
relationship stopped.  It would have resumed after that first battle, but
his cousin hadn't survived it.  Abdullah was heartbroken and vowed to kill
as many of the invaders as he could.  But, that didn't bring back his
cousin.  So, he chose to wring as much gold out of these white devils as he
could.

	But, this Infidel!  Well, he was so different.  Surely, he'd fucked
many of the Frenchman's countrymen as well as other nationalities from
Christian Europe, but he'd only used them, never loved them.  He fucked
them, used them, seeded them, took their money, and turned them loose.
They were only a convenient receptacle for his man juice.  How had this one
gotten into his heart?

	Such musing would have to wait.  The muscular white man was
mounting his dripping ass.  The hard dick pressed against his black pucker
and slipped inside.  Abdullah willed himself to relax and push back against
the invader.  Yes, this was so good!  It felt like his cousin Hakeem inside
him, thick and long.

	"You good?" asked Hugues.  Abdullah nodded over his shoulder and
pushed back against the slowly pistoning dick up his ass.  "This is even
better than Pierre."

	"Pierre has been taking your dick for many years," the Arab
responded.  "You've stretched him out."

	"You're so tight.  Am I this tight?"

	"I'm sure your virgin ass is even tighter than I am.  Remember, I
have a bigger dick to spread and stretch you."

	"How could I forget?" Hugues laughed, feeling his asshole and
Abdullah's slick cum that was oozing from it.  He pushed his cum-slick
fingers into Abdullah's mouth.  The big black man beneath him moaned.

	"Your ass tastes good," Abdullah whispered.  "So does my cum!"

	"Oh, OH!" Hugues croaked.  "AH!" he roared.  His building climax
crashed suddenly over him and he began to cum.  He plowed and pounded on
the big, black, muscle ass beneath him.  Taking this big man doggie style
was so pleasurable.  I couldn't stop fucking.  Or cumming!  This was
incredible!  Three times now, he'd had the immeasurable pleasure of
spraying his nut gravy in less than two hours.  Each time, it seemed that
his loads were enormous and his dick couldn't stop jerking and spraying.
Pierre had a very eager ass, but this black man taking his essence was far
and away superior.

	Abdullah slid down on to his stomach, pulling Hugues with him.  The
knight stayed seated as deeply as his 9" dick would allow, considering that
his climax was waning and his dick slowly shriveling.  He would gladly
breed and seed this beautiful man beneath him as often as he needed it,
even if that meant he'd have to give up his own ass again and again to get
it.  He kissed the man's shoulders, ears, and neck as his hips pushed
lazily in a sexual motion.  With each thrust down, the big, black man
pushed back and spread his ass to take Hugues deeply again.

	With a sigh, Hugues pulled out and rolled off Abdullah's back.  He
looked over at his friendly jailer and noticed a tear in the black man's
eye.  "Have I done something wrong?" the Frenchman wondered.

	"No," Abdullah finally whispered huskily after a few moments.  "I
was remembering how much I loved my cousin who made love like you do.  I
still miss him."

	"I'm so sorry that I made you sad.  He must have been very close to
you."

	"He was my first, my first sex with another man.  You never forget
your first," he allowed.  "But, he has gone to Allah and his reward."

	"Again, I'm very sorry."

	"It hasn't anything to do with you, although it has a great deal to
do with your Crusaders.  He was killed in the first battle."

	Hugues reached out to him and gently stroked the man's face.  "Your
first love.  That had to be crushing."

	"And still is," Abdullah replied.  "As you know, that battle was
only three years ago, and I still miss him."

	"At least, that was before my time.  I only arrived here last
winter."

	"And you were lucky to survive the last battle," Abdullah pointed
out.  "I knew you were a man of some importance, so I decided not to kill
you on the battlefield."

	"And I'm forever grateful," the Duke responded.  "Pierre should be
back with your fucking gold!" he spat petulantly.

	"In a way, I hope he never comes back...."

	"So, you can kill me and avenge your cousin!?" Sir Hugues exploded.

	Abdullah pulled the struggling knight close to him and pulled his
face up to stare into his eyes.  "No, so I can keep you for myself and love
you."

	Hugues instantly relaxed.  "Oh," he looked down sheepishly.  "You
love me?"

	"Yes.  How could I love an Infidel, and so soon after knowing him?
Allah presents us with riddles.  It is up to us to solve them," Abdullah
sighed.  "I wish I had an answer for this one."

	"Perhaps, your God wishes you happiness," Hugues suggested.  "The
priests in my religion say it isn't right to lie with a man.  But, I know
they are wrong when this love feels so right.  Besides, most of the priests
are buggering the altar boys, despite what they preach."

	Abdullah laughed at that.  "Yes, it seems to be true of all
religions.  The priests and imams say one thing and do another."

	The following month, Abdullah's army was called upon again by the
Emir to once more repulse the invading Infidels.  But, all did not go well
for Abdullah.


This story is a fantasy.  Your life isn't.  Play safe.
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