Date: Sun, 03 Jul 2016 02:21:37 +0000
From: J. W. <jaywise1972@gmail.com>
Subject: Baba's Prayer, Part 6 (Revised)

DISCLAIMER:

This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of explicit
sexual acts between a father and a son.

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read it.

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* * *

Part 6:

	I burn.

	It is past midnight, and the desert winds have lost their
bite. They waft through the windows of my bedroom, cooling the sweat upon
my chest. The inferno that is Saudi Arabia, my sacred home for more than
fifty years, now refreshes me.

	Even so, I burn. I should have fallen asleep hours ago, but the
prayer repeats endlessly through my head; the prayer I cannot dislodge; the
one I speak with my son when we are together.

	I look over at the clock. One A.M., and I feel the familiar
stirring in my loins. I know what must happen. Rising into the moonlit
dimness, I leave my room. The smooth stone of the hallway affords me an
almost flawless silence as I draw close to Sabbi's room. There are no doors
in my house. There is no need, for there is nothing we would want to hide
from each other.

	I pause at the entrance to my son's room and lean against the
jamb. Sabbi is there, as I expected, but not in his bed, asleep. He sits
upon the sill of his wide window; the one that looks out toward the distant
hills. The moonlight illuminates his white bottoms, and his upper body is
bare and perfect.

	At first, I cannot imagine what would keep him up so late, but then
I see his eyes, half-lidded and liquid with pleasure. His right leg is
pulled up to his chest, his chin resting on the knee, while his left leg
dangles from the window's ledge, swaying slowly in the breeze. I watch as
his left arm moves, flexing gentle in the half-light, a slow, rhythmic
pattern as he pleasures himself through the opening in his bottoms there in
the quiet of the night. I feel a brief twinge of guilt at catching him in
such an intimate moment.

	The wind ruffles the white silk, and the pitch black of his hair,
tousled as if he has only just woken up. His skin is smooth, tanned,
flawless.

	Sabbi senses my presence. Perhaps it is the breath that has become
ever so slightly heavier as I watch him. He turns his head and regards me
with his dark, long-lashed eyes. A slow smile crosses his handsome face,
and I know, of a sudden, that this night is the same for both of us. The
air we breathe is pregnant with lust. We are both slaves to it. Inside, my
stomach churns and my cock stirs. I feel the presence of Allah within me,
warm and fervent, calling me to prayer.

	"Get dressed, Sabbi," I say, my voice deeper and huskier than
usual.

	The boy stands, facing me. His left hand still moves lightly upon
his hard cock.

	"Yes, Baba." He does not ask why. He simply obeys, as any boy
should the man who made him.

	"Come downstairs when you are ready. We will drive," I explain,
though I need not have.

	Sabbi nods, and I return to my room, enter the closet and slip into
my own white thawb. I do not wear sandals. We will not need them tonight.

	A few moments later, Sabbi and I are in the car, our skin tingling
from the cool breeze during our walk to the garage where I keep all of my
automobiles.

	The drive is a relatively short one, and we speak little on the
way. Sabbi lays across the seat, his head resting in my lap as I stroke his
silky hair. We are both still hard when we arrive.

	The building itself looks old, but the desert can play tricks,
making even the newest structures look worn and ancient. This particular
place is a hammam; a place of public bathing. Sabbi and I have visited
before. It is a place known to be frequented by those of similar outlook;
similar tastes. I park the car, and the two of us walk inside.

	Within, the air is humid, warm and lightly perfumed with
incense. Everything is stone, warn smooth beneath the warm bodies of
countless bathers through the years. The hammam's center is large,
cavernous, filled with a shallow pool of clear water that laps gently at
the beveled edges.

	It is late. The baths are nearly empty, and this, being no
surprise, makes me harder. Sabbi and I disrobe, laying our thawbs over
wooden racks in one of the small adjoining anterooms.

	When we return to the pool, three men scattered about the periphery
of the water, turn to regard us. The first is a youngish man, perhaps in
his early twenties. The second man is older, with a slender build, an
iron-gray beard and thinning hair upon his head. The third man is large. In
fact, he is huge, both in height and in width. He was obviously a strongman
at some point in his life, for his chest and arms are thick with muscle,
set firmly above a jutting, prodigious belly.

	All three men are heavily tanned, and all three watch Sabbi and I
with hungry eyes. As the boy and I settle down into the warm water, I reach
over and massage his neck, making contact with each man's eyes in turn,
holding their stares just long enough to accomplish two things; to
establish that Sabbi is mine, and to offer him simultaneously to each man.

	The younger man and the older one both stare at my son, while the
larger bull of a man holds my gaze steadily. Interesting. I smile, and the
giant returns the expression with a dark grin of his own.

	Beside me, Sabbi giggles.  Beneath the water, his smaller cock
quivers with every beat of his heart, rock hard as only a boy of his age
can be.

	There is a palpable sexual tension in the chamber now. One of the
men clears his throat, and the sound echoes off the vaulted
ceiling. Slowly, casually, I reach down and take my son's cock in my hand,
cupping his smooth balls and pressing my palm against the hard flesh. I
squeeze and massage as I watch the other men's reactions. Beside me, Sabbi
lets out a high, tenor moan that carries far enough to tickle the ears of
the observing strangers.

	I begin to pray, the words coming to me seamlessly, as they always
have.

	"Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar, la illaha illaha illalaho, wa Allahu
Akbar, Allahu Akbar wa lillahil hamd."

	Sabbi's legs extend as he stretches, his hips rising to press his
throbbing boyhood into my fist. Then he pivots, sinking to his knees in the
water and moving between my big thighs. I rise from the water and sit,
naked, along the pool's edge. My son's mouth is on my cock immediately, and
I curl my fingers in his hair and hold him there, his cheeks bulging with
the thick meat.

	The large man, too, rises from the water to sit spread-legged upon
the lip of the pool. He reaches down, his eyes not leaving mine for an
instant, and wraps a huge fist around an organ bigger even than my own
impressive member. The younger man and the older both rise from their
places, looking around furtively before approaching Sabbi and I from across
the water.

	The prayer flowing from my lips grows louder, huskier, as I imagine
what is to come. The younger man grins as he hears me. The older man
pauses, as if he is unsure of why I would utter sacred words here, now.
But his hesitation is short-lived. His eyes darken with lust and he resumes
his slow trudge toward us.

	The large one fondles himself brazenly for a time, then rises. But,
unlike the others, he steps out of the pool altogether and begins walking
in our direction around the water's edge. Sweet, prophet, he is big. Every
part of him seems massive and powerful.

	The younger man reaches us first, and wastes no time. He runs his
hands over Sabbi's lithe body, exploring every inch thoroughly before
leaning down to run a pink tongue up the wet skin of my son's back, from
the base of his spine to the nape of his neck.

	Sabbi shudders as he sucks Baba's big cock, wriggling as the
stranger's tongue slithers over his perfect, unblemished skin with its
soft, peach fuzz. The older man takes his place behind the boy and, sliding
his arms under the slender thighs, he lifts Sabbi's body nearly free of the
water. The gray beard descends and the man's lips lock upon my son's tight,
pink hole. Sabbi moans into my groin as the old man's tongue burrows,
twisting and wet, into the boy's anus, deeper than one might imagine
possible. I can see the length of it sinking into the pink flesh and
widening it before the man's lips fasten upon the soft ring.

	I watch the two men molest my son, and as I do, a shadow falls over
us all. I look up and see the wide, round belly of the huge man, his
muscled body covered in dark fur, and above the belly, the wide, deep pecs,
massive and thick. His beard, too is thick, and inky black, covering most
of a wide neck and broad shoulders.

	The giant steps over me, his tree trunk legs astride my waist, and
turns to face me, looking down, the massive cock sliding across my right
cheek until the bloated head rests against my lips. There he stays for a
moment, allowing me to watch him towering over me, to feel his power and
his intent. He makes no move, only keeping the hot, soft flesh of that
massive pole lodged against my mouth, neither pushing in, nor pulling away.

	I wait for the inevitable, looking up into dark, intense eyes. This
bull of a man has no interest in Sabbi. He is hunting bigger game
tonight. He wants me; I, the man used to giving orders to those below me;
used to being in authority.

	He waits, and I wait, until I realize what it is that he wants; my
submission. I open my mouth and the giant smiles.

	"Mis lia, alrrajul alssaghir," the bid man growls. Suck me, little
man. -- Little man! Me! But compared to him, I am but a boy.

	The thick cock spreads my lips wide as the half-hooded head pops
inside, flattening my tongue against the bottom of my mouth. I must look
positively obscene, a grown man with a massive male organ stuffing my
mouth, just as I stuff the mouth of the boy between my own legs. My hand
leaves Sabbi's head and rises to cup the huge balls in their loose sack,
then to encircle the thick shaft as I begin to suck and bob on the giant's
meat. I have large hands, but my fingers cannot find each other on the
opposite side of the big cock, such as its girth at its base.

	The giant grunts; a deep animal sound, and his wide hips thrust
forward, driving the powerful rod into my throat. It has been a long time
since I have taken the submissive role with a man. Deep down, something in
my heart craves this. Craves it from this massive man, on this particular
night.

	I am dizzy with lust as the stranger pumps himself in and out of my
mouth, and further down, towards my deep gullet. A single, huge paw of a
hand grips the back of my head, holding me fast as he fucks the slick
warmth of my throat. It is then that I notice my son's lips are no longer
wrapped around my cock, but it does not matter. He is being seen to. As the
hulk above me pushes me backwards, his cock popping briefly out of my
mouth, I see Sabbi through the gap between the massive legs. The older man
is buried deep in Sabbi's ass now, his crotch grinding against the tight,
upturned butt, his eyes closed in ecstasy as he breeds my young son.

	The younger man makes easy hunching motions, sliding his own organ
in and out of Sabbi's mouth. Impaled from both ends, the boy looks so
small. The tanned muscles of his back and legs flex with each inward plunge
of the men before and behind him, and I feel a surge of pride and jealously
as I watch my son being fucked.

	The moment passes quickly, however. The giant's huge arms move
beneath my thighs and the massive biceps ripple as my legs are lifted and
pushed back, the knees making indentations in my wide pecs. I welcome what
is coming. Looking up into the big man's dark eyes, I begin again to
pray. My voice is low and deliberate. The giant's nostrils flare briefly,
and he turns his body -- and I along with it -- to face East. We are
aligned with God and with the sacred lands of our fathers. The giant begins
praying with me now, his own voice much deeper and richer even than my
own. The words are ancient, familiar. They are part of our DNA.

	I hear my son orgasm behind us, just as the giant punctuates the
long, slow slide of his slick manhood into my guts with a deep exhalation
of the words "Allahu Akbar". And then he begins breeding me in earnest.

	The feeling is nearly indescribably. The fat cock fills me in a way
nothing else ever has. It widens me and deepens me as the giant shoves the
pink, silken flesh of my insides out of the way again and again, the rhythm
steady as the tides. I hear the other two men's voices, between their moans
and grunts, joining us in Salah, which rises now to echo off the marble
ceiling. There it multiplies. It is as if the hammam is now filled with
worshippers, their voices overlapping and intersecting to increase the
level of holiness suffusing the chamber.

	I feel within me the rising heat of approaching climax, and I know
that I can do nothing to stop it. The giant's wide hips quicken and the
muscles of his chest, shoulders and arms flex. With a harsh bellow, the big
man orgasms, driving his monstrous shaft into me so deeply that his big,
swaying balls are wedged into the crack of my upturned ass. He holds this
position for some moments, each passing second electrified as I approach
the point of no return. My own cock erupts as I feel the great gouts of
potent cum filling me. I can feel his cock throbbing, as if a bulge travels
from its base to its tip with each gush of sperm. My own nectar blasts
along my chest, and upon my chin and mouth, even upon my left cheek, nearly
up to my left eye.  I have not even touched myself, yet this giant has
fucked a mind-shattering orgasm out of me.  He bends down then, breathing
heavily from his pleasured exertion, and crushes his lips against mine, his
wide tongue probing, tasting the huge load I just shot there and sharing it
with me.

	The old man cries out, lunging forward and burying himself in my
boy's ass as he empties his own balls there, his mouth wide in a rictus of
pleasure, eyes clenched shut, garbled praises to Allah rushing from his
lips between gasps. The younger man also tenses and freezes, his own cock
pulsing and twitching as he fills Sabbi with his potent cream.  My son's
cock quivers and his smooth abdomen contorts, bucking against the two
molestors as his own balls unload upon his tanned belly.

	The giant lowers himself until he is propped up only with his
elbows on either wide of my shoulders. His lips play over mine and he
continues the slow, deliberate exploration of my mouth. We share each
other's breath, taking the humid desire of one into the lungs of the other,
then back and forth, growing light-headed as the oxygen is depleted, yet
unwilling to part so soon.

	I feel my guts expanding again, but with a different warmth. A
vast, liquid heat that spreads from one side of my belly to the other. The
giant is pissing inside of me. He will not stop until he has used me
fully. Only when the last drops of his golden urine are deposited inside of
me does he release my mouth. We both stare into each other's eyes, gasping
for air and whispering praises to Allah.

	With another low grunt, the giant withdraws from my ass, watching
as I experience his size anew. He laughs as a mixture of white cum and
urine gush from my gaping hole. "You were a good fuck. We will do it again,
when I desire it. If you were a woman, you would have my child inside of
you by now."

	I nod, my face reddening at the veiled insult. I am many things,
but I am no woman.

	The other two men move off, leaving Sabbi where they bred him, his
hands grasping the edge of the pool as he lets the warm water sooth him. He
watches me and I know that he knows what has happened. It is a point of
connection between us. Now he knows that when I slide myself inside
him... when I feed him from my ass, or from my cock, I do so not from behind
a veil of ignorance, but in full knowledge of what the experience means.
Perhaps this was a valuable lesson for him, but now that our desires have
been satiated, I feel a great weight of tiredness coming upon me. As the
giant turns and lumbers away, Sabbi and I gather our things and return to
the car. Again, no words are necessary. We have done what was needed; what
was demanded of us by the souls within our chests. I feel the warmth of
Allah's love upon my son and I as we drive home. Feel his blessing and his
will. I would have it no other way.

* * *