Date: Sat, 14 Dec 2002 23:22:12 -0700
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Eid al-Fitr" (t/t)

Caution/Welcome.  This is a story involving four brothers, one
thirteen-year-old, one fifteen-year- old, and two recently turned
seventeen-year-old twins, who show three classmates that not every American
is against those of Arab descent or the Moslem faith, and at the same time
learn a bit about Ramadan and the Feast of Fast-breaking and their Moslem
classmates.  This story is posted at free gay adult story sites for adult
entertainment only.  Permission is not given to copy electronically nor in
any other form for the purpose of redistribution or posting at sites other
than those described here.  This is the forty-third story in the Brewster
boys special events and myths series.  The Brewster brothers would like to
remind everyone that viruses don't practice racial discrimination, so be
sure to use a condom for those interracial relations.  Praise, pictures of
hot young Arab boys, comments from our gay Moslem friends, and story ideas
for 2003 can be sent to the author, J.O. Dickingson at
authorsix@hotmail.com

		    THE BREWSTERS CELEBRATE EID AL-FITR

  "Alicia wants you to stop hanging around and bothering her."
  "Bothering her?  All I've been doing is talking to her," Ismet protested.
  "She just don't want you pestering her anymore, get it?" Patrick Connors
replied, speaking more forcefully as he glared menacingly at the
fifteen-year-old Arab boy.
  "Who are you to tell me what to do?  You're not her boyfriend," responded
Ismet, his quick temper flaring.
  "Nor are you."
  "And you never will be.  Stick to your own kind," added Jason Smyth-Jones
in a tone that was more of a warning than advice.
  "My own kind?"
  "You know, your own colour."
  "And religion," added Danny Maartens.
  "So you're telling me Alicia doesn't want me talking to her anymore."
  "Yeah."
  "I don't believe that."
  "You saying Alicia is lying to me?"
  "I don't believe she'd tell you that.  If she felt that way she'd tell me
herself."
  "So you saying I'm lying."
  "Yeah."
  "Oh yeah?  Dare ya to step outside and say that," Patrick Connors said
defiantly, placing his hands on his hips as he glared at his classmate.
Although only an inch taller than the boy and no more than ten pounds
heavier, he was raw boned and clearly the stronger.
  "Any time big mouth," Ismet responded, unafraid of the bully.  He knew a
bit about fighting.
  "I'd be careful Patrick.  His type fights dirty," warned Danny.
  "Yeah, you better be scared of my type, Patrick," Ismet shot back as
Jason nudged Danny Maartens and they looked up the hallway.  The group
suddenly took on a different tone.
  "What's going on?" Imran asked as he, Benny and the twins joined the
group.
  "Just remember, stay away from her," warned Patrick as he stepped back,
not wanting to get into any arguments with the twins.  What they'd done to
Ron Danson the previous Friday was fresh in everyone's mind.  "Let's get
out of here."
  "Ismet?"
  "These guys hassling you?" asked Benny.
  "Nothings going on, okay?  Just drop it," Ismet snapped.  He didn't need
anyone else to fight his battles, especially his older brother and a pair
of faggot twins.
  Brent and Brett glanced at each other.  This was one angry dude.  "We're
going down to the mall after school.  You guys wanna come?" Brent asked the
two Arab brothers.
  "We can't."
  "We have to go straight home."
  "Hey, if you're worried about ."
  "I'm not worried about fuck all, get it?" snapped Ismet.  "We just don't
have time for fun and games, okay?  Not like you infidels!"  Pushing Brent
aside, he stormed down the hallway.
  Imran shrugged and made a face of apology before turning and running to
catch up to his brother.  Shrugging also, the Brewster brothers headed down
to the mall to hang out a bit before heading home.  It was a Friday, and a
lot of students went to the Astro Arcade or to the food court or Ropp's
Music Centre to hang out.  What the twins had made Ron Danson do the
previous Friday was still a popular topic for the after school crowd even
though a week had gone by.  Ron, needless to say, had been making himself
scarce since then, not that they'd seen the last of him.  They knew Ron
better than that, and knew that he was busy plotting a revenge.  His type
simply got worse when someone got the better of them, and he had been
humiliated big time.  There were many who were amazed the twins had taken a
chance standing up to him in the first place, and then doing what they'd
done to him as a consequence, but everyone understood why.  There was only
so far that a guy could be pushed.
  Equalling the gossip about Ron Danson was the gossip about Billy Graham
and Troy Kholler.  There still were their loyal friends and followers who
claimed that the tape had to have been faked, and that there was no way the
two were gay lovers.  With today's technology that was not an unreasonable
conclusion, and of course they were at least partially correct.  Those were
in the minority in the male population however.  The evidence of the two
weeks prior to the release of the tape was just too strong for there not to
be some truth about the relationship between the two boys.  Word had not
yet spread throughout the female population, but once it did it would
spread like wildfire.  Troy and Billy were the types of boys girls dreamed
about and were the objects of their deepest and most secret desires shared
only with their diaries and best bosom friends.  Everyone did notice that
the two boys were not hanging out with their usual female worshippers in
their usual territory at school or in the mall this past week, but nor had
they been seen hanging onto each other's words as they had been the two
weeks previous.  Of course what nobody knew was that just the thought of
hanging around with the girls they'd been hanging with had suddenly become
repugnant, and any thoughts of making out with them actually turned their
stomachs, much to the bewilderment and dismay of the two tortured boys.
  Although much more prevalent at the elementary and junior high schools,
word was getting around about Scott Hurd and the retaliation against his
bullying last Friday also.  There had to be some truth to it as he hadn't
approached the elementary school all week.  It seemed like last Friday was
not a good day for bullies of all ages and sizes.  It wasn't
internationally either, with UN inspectors setting up offices in Baghdad
and starting their search for weapons.  Iraqi President Saddam Hussein was
especially not pleased with the surprise visit to one of his palaces.  Of
course that just increased the tension between himself and the western
nations, and the United States in particular, which just served to increase
tensions across the country, including Crestview Heights.
  "So, did you have a nice prayer?" asked Danny Maartens as Imran and his
brothers and friends returned from praying outside in a paved alcove behind
the school at noon the next Monday.  Someone had complained that the school
was allowing the students one of the rooms for their noon prayer and had
warned if the school continued they'd be demanding the school play the
Lord's Prayer over the intercom in the mornings, and bring in evangelical
speakers to speak to the Christian students at noon, among other things.
The school had opted to take the easy way out and to discontinue offering
the classroom to the Moslem students.  There were few in the school,
students and staff, who did not suspect the complaint had come from their
illustrious mayor himself, Anthony Maartens.  Who else would have the clout
to threaten the school principal and the school board?
  "Anytime one prays to Allah is nice," retorted Ismet, unable to resist
rising to the bait.
  "Oh yeah, well for your information, there is only one God, and that is
The God, not Allah."
  "Shows how much you know, your God and Allah are the one and the same,
the one and only true God.  The difference is in which Prophet we follow,
not which God we believe in."
  "The same God?" snorted Danny.  "No way!"
  "Go look it up," one of the Muslim students challenged.
  "And if the language is too difficult, have someone read it to you,"
added another.
  "Yeah, well, when you're out there praying, I'd make sure no Brewsters
are around," observed Conrad Blackwell.
  "What do you mean?" Imran immediately challenged, coming to the defence
of the brothers.
  "Well, with your asses up in the air like that when you pray, and them
being faggots, you figure it out," observed Conrad, to the laughter of his
followers.
  "Course that's nothing new to you A-rabs, is it?" asked Jason
Smyth-Jones.
  "Meaning?"
  "My father says back in the seventeenth century homosexuality was known
as the Persian vice, or the Turkish Vice, it was so common there."
  "Explains the position you take when you pray," observed someone quietly,
knowing it would raise the ire of every Moslem there.
  "Hey, you know what determines if a camel has one hump or two?" asked
Reno Matteotti.
  "No, what?" asked Jason,
  "How horny his Arab rider is," Reno responded, repeating a joke he'd
heard his father telling.
  The resulting fight ended up with the entire group, Arab and non-Arab,
being sent to the principal's office, but with nobody squealing, there was
little that the principal could do other than to give them a reprimand and
a warning.  He stopped short of notifying their parents, knowing to do so
would only exacerbate the situation and turn both groups against him.  He
was having enough problems dealing with the tensions in the school without
encouraging more.  Tuesday saw a teacher in each of the hallways at noon.
That much he could do.
  "You know, we just want to let you know we think it sucks you not being
allowed to have a room for your prayers," observed Brent as the group of
Moslem students returned to the school after their noon prayer.
  "Yeah, our mom is going to raise it at the next PTA meeting," added
Brett.
  "I bet she'll have the school reinstate the practice."  Brenda serving
her second year as the PTA Chairwoman, there was no doubt about that in the
minds of her boys or her husband.  Their biggest worry was that she might
start up a fundraiser, and of course rope them into helping, to build a
mosque attached to the school or some such thing.
  "Yeah, our mom says it really sucks the way you're being treated."
  "Except she didn't actually say sucks," added Benny.
  "And why do you care?  Or your mother?" asked one of the students
bitterly.
  "Because it ain't right.  Mom's always finding causes and fixing things
that aren't right."
  "Well, we're no cause, and we don't need fixing, so you can tell her to
forget it," advised Ismet angrily.  The Brewster brothers glanced at each
other.  It seemed like no matter what they said or how hard they tried to
be understanding, Ismet found something wrong with it.
  "You haven't been in the cafeteria for a long time," observed Brent,
addressing Imran in an attempt to change the conversation.
  "Yeah.  You getting harassed there or something?" asked Brett.
  "No, it has nothing to do with being harassed.  It is because this is the
month of Ramadan."
  "The month of Ramadan?"
  "It is a holy month for us, the most holy.  You have not seen us in the
cafeteria because it is marked by fasting.  We do not eat nor drink from
sunrise to sunset during Ramadan."
  "For the whole month?"
  "Yes."
  "Food and drink are not the only things prohibited during our fast,"
observed Ismet with a hint of smugness and superiority in his voice.  "We
also forgo any physical pleasures, of any kind.  And evil thoughts, lying,
and lustful looks.  Anything that is bad or brings pleasure."
  "That must be really difficult not having evil thoughts considering how
others are treating you right now."
  "Fasting during Ramadan is meant to teach us discipline, self-restraint,
and generosity.  By fasting we exercise control over desires and enhance
our communication with God," said Imran.
  "That's gotta be hard, especially for a whole month," observed Benny.
  "It is," agreed Ismet, "but for the faithful it is a joy, not a burden to
express our belief in the Holy Qur'an.  But why would you care?"
  "We do," observed Brent.
  "Bull shit you do.  You just want Imran."
  "Want Imran?"
  "Ismet," Imran warned.
  "Com'on, I've seen how you look at him.  That's the only reason you are
being so buddy buddy and friendly.  You want his ass.  I can see it in your
eyes, and your brother's eyes."
  "Ismet!"
  "It's true," the fifteen-year-old said, looking at his older brother
defiantly.  "You think for one moment they don't believe that story about
homosexuality being the Persian vice?" he snorted.
  "Ismet, that is enough.  You owe Brent and his brothers an apology."
  "Why else would they be so interested?" Ismet argued.  "I know their
type."
  "Are you forgetting, I'm their type too?" Imran snapped back.  The group
of boys, Moslem and non-Moslem, stood there awkwardly for a moment before
Ismet turned on his heels and went storming off.  With his usual shrug of
apology and flushing with embarrassment as he realized what he'd just said,
Imran turned and hurried after his brother.  Nobody said anything, but they
were all thinking the same thing as they headed off to classes.  Although
it was on their minds, the Brewster brothers did not discuss it that
evening.
  Wednesday morning Ismet, Imran and their youngest brother Abdul were
waiting for the Brewsters in the parking lot.  "Ismet has something to say
to you," Imran announced as they approached the twins and their brothers.
  Ismet glanced at the pavement, shuffled his feet, and finally looked up
at the twins.  "I wish to apologize," he said softly.
  "For?" prompted Imran, seeing the twins were about to accept the apology.
  "For suspecting your motives.  For slapping away your hand when you were
only offering it in friendship and help.  For judging your sexual
orientation," he concluded, saying the last quietly and with less sincerity
than the other statements.  He looked up at Brent, and then slowly turned
to look at Brett and finally Benny and Bobby.  They could tell from the
look in his eyes he was not totally penitent, especially with the last
statement, but he was trying.
  "Hey, that's all right.  You've been under a lot of stress."
  "Yeah, we understand.  No offense taken."
  "Our father would like to speak to your father about inviting you to our
home on Friday," announced Imran.
  "He would?" Brett asked in surprise.
  "If you would be so kind as to accept our invitation to supper," we would
be grateful, Imran continued, glancing over at his younger brother.
  "Yes," Ismet agreed.  "In this small way I beg Allah forgiveness for my
sharp tongue."
  "Supper?  I thought you were fasting."
  "Friday is Eid al-Fitr, the Feast of Fast-breaking."
  "It is the end of Ramadan.  December 6 is the first day of the month
Shawwal."
  "It is a very important holiday for us.  We will not be in school on that
day, because for all Moslems it is a holiday, at least those who follow the
faith, but we would like you to spend the evening meal with us, and the
evening if you would like, and your father would allow.  You and your two
brothers."  Imran turned and looked at Bobby.  "Your youngest brother has
been most kind to our youngest brother, Abdul, showing him support as you
have shown us," he observed.
  The brothers knew Bobby had stuck up for Abdul, the topic having come up
several times over the past month as they'd talked about the conflict
between America and the Arab world, and the conflict there in their
community.  They had just assumed that had been just the usual type of
stuff involved with bullying though, not something racially motivated,
especially since the names of Jung, Chucky, and Scott Hurd had come up just
as frequently.
  "Father says you may even have a sleep over if you would like," Imran
continued, a hint of hope in his voice.
  The boys looked at each other.  "Sure, why not," said Brett, speaking for
the four of them.  "We'd be delighted to have a sleep over."
  So, Friday, December 6, the four Brewster brothers found themselves
pulling up in front of the Malik residence with their overnight bags.  From
the outside, their house looked like any other house in the suburbs, but
once inside, their Arab ancestry showed in a variety of ways.  The
colourful Egyptian motif around the top of the living room walls, the clay
vases and figurines in the china cabinet and on the shelves that reminded
them of the stuff in Egyptian tombs that they'd learned about in school,
the thick, ornate carpets on the floor, and the pictures on the walls were
the more evident.
  "This is my mother, and my father," introduced Imran, "and these are the
friends we have told you about, Brent, Brett, Benny and Bobby."
  "Masa'a alkair," greeted Benny, extending his hand and shaking Imran's
father's hand.
  "Well, and good evening to you too," replied Ibrahim Malik, taken by
surprise.
  "Ain ahlamaam?" Benny continued, looking at Ibrahim's wife Azza.
  "The bathroom is down the hall."
  "Oh."
  "Would you like me to show you?" she asked when Benny made no move to
head down the hall.
  "Oh, no, that's okay thanks.  I don't need to use it.  It's just the only
other thing I know how to say in Arabic."
  Mister and Mrs Malik glanced at each other and smiled.  "You're learning
Arabic?"  Ibrahim asked.
  "That's the only two things so far," Benny responded.
  "You've pronounced them very accurately.  You must learn languages
quickly."
  "Oh fu-, fu-, fu-, fusure," Bobby responded.  "Benny loves learning
languages.  You should hear some of the words he knows in Scottish, Greek,
Mexican. . . ."
  "Makah," added Brent.
  "Oh yeah, I forgot Makah.  And Yiddish.  Say something in Scottish," he
suggested, looking at his brother admiringly.
  "Aggh, Aye dinna think sae, Bobby," he responded, to everyone's
amusement.
  "Benny's multilinquistical," Bobby advised, his eyes twinkling.
  "You'll have to excuse Bobby," Benny apologized.  "He gets carried away."
  Bobby's three brothers looked at each other.  They could not resist.
"Actually, we wish someone would carry him away," they chorused.
  Mister and Mrs Malik glanced at each other and smiled.  They knew about
such banter between brothers having three sons themselves, though lately
there had not been much laughter in their household.  It felt good to hear
it again.  "Well, knowing another language is a valuable skill," Mrs Malik
said, looking over at her three sons meaningfully.  On more than one
occasion they'd questioned the need to learn Arabic.  "But now you boys go
wash up and I'll see to supper."  With the fragrant and enticing aromas
coming from the kitchen, the seven teenagers did not need to be told a
second time.
  "May Allah bless this food, and our company this night," Ibrahim prayed
as they gathered about the dining room table.  "Subhana Rabbiy-al-A'ala,"
he pronounced, and the phrase was repeated by his wife and sons.  "That
means in English, Glory to my Lord, the Most High," he explained.  "Now,
have some tamiya," he urged, breaking off a piece of homemade bread and
dipping it into a large plate of a reddish-brown paste placed in the middle
of the table and within everyone's reach.
  Bobby, true to his nature, broke off a piece of his bread and dipping it
into the mashed and deep-fried fava beans, scooped up a generous amount and
popped it into his mouth.  The tangy beans, seasoned with garlic, onions,
coriander, parsley and cayenne, were not as hot as some of the new foods
he'd sampled, and seeing his reaction, his brothers dug in also.  The
tamiya was followed by a broad bean salad Mrs Malik called fool midammis.
The broad beans were mashed along with red lentils, olive oil and lemon
juice and topped with black olives, and again were eaten by scooping up the
paste with the arab bread.
  "Hey, this is sortta like the food we ate when we were in Sod ah, I mean,
you know, the food we read about in, ah, the Middle East," stumbled Bobby.
  "Yes, it does," Brett agreed quickly.  How they'd spent time in Sodom
would be difficult to explain.
  "So, do you know much about the Feast of Fast-breaking?" asked Ibrahim as
he began filling soup bowls from an ornate, heated tureen with a matching
blue and white floral pattern as the bowls and passing them to his guests
and sons.
  "A little," observed Brent as he cautiously sampled the milookhiyya, a
soup he learned was made of a finely chopped green herb like spinach and
chicken stock with a little cumin and a lot of garlic.  "We know it marks
the end of Ramadan, which is a month of fasting.  Imran and Ismet told us
about Ramadan," added, glancing at the two brothers.
  "Yes, it is," Ibrahim said, pleased his sons had been sharing their
culture and customs.  "It is a very special day for us, not unlike your
Thanksgiving.  We begin the day with prayers at the mosque and then a
sermon.  The services are followed by greetings where we exchange blessings
and prayers with the community.  The rest of the day is spent exchanging
visits with our family and friends.  It is customary to greet each other by
saying 'Eid mubarak' which means 'blessed Eid', and 'taqabbalallah
ta'atakum' which means 'may God accept your deeds'.
  It is a time for strengthening the bonds of brotherhood in our
community."
  "It is also a time to be spent with our children," added his wife.  "And
to give them gifts and new clothes."
  "Cool," observed Bobby, trying his best not to slurp his soup after
having been nudged by Brett.
  "On this day we show our joy for the health and opportunities of life
Allah gave us to fulfill our obligation of fasting and other good deeds
during the blessed month of Ramadan," explained Ismet solemnly.  "This is a
time to gather and to remember and honour God."
  Clearing away the soup bowls, Mrs Malik brought out the main course and
as they ate, the family explained more about Ramadan and their culture, and
their ancestry.  The boys learned that Imran and Ismet were born in
Seattle, and Abdul in San Francisco where they'd lived up until moving to
Crescent Heights a year and a half ago, and that their parents and
grandparents were also born in the United States.  It was their
great-grandparents who had immigrated from Egypt.
  "I'd love to visit Egypt some time," observed Bobby, his mouth stuffed.
He wasn't sure what all he was eating, but it tasted great.
  "Yeah, me too," agreed Brent, sharing his brother's love of history.
  "Have more rice," Mrs Malik offered, handing Brent the bowl of steamed
rice.  "And more mehshi," she added, referring to the plate of zucchini and
eggplant stuffed with rice-dill and rice-lamb mixtures.
  "Thanks, it's delicious," he said, accepting the offer.
  "It is especially delicious after fasting for a month," observed Abdul as
he filled his plate again.
  "I can't imagine going without food or even water from sunup to sundown
for thirty days," observed Brett, who, like his brothers, had difficulty
going from one meal to the next without snacking.
  "And to eat so little other times after going with no food all day,"
added Brent, Ibrahim having explained that they got up before sunrise to
have an egg and slice of toast, and that after sunset they would eat
something simple, like a small bowl of rice or a boiled wheat dish similar
to porridge, which was typical of families who practised fasting as
strictly as they could and yet kept up their energy to perform their jobs.
  "Oh yeah.  If I had nothing to eat all day, I could eat three or four of
these little chickens each night," Bobby observed as he struggled to cut
the meat off the thigh and wishing he could just pick it up with his
fingers and chew on it.
  "Actually," observed Mister Malik, "hamam mahshi is not chicken.  It is
braised pigeon."  The Brewster brothers stopped with forks in midair,
looked at him with surprise, and then at the half-eaten birds on their
plates.  They were not sure at first if he was joking or not, and then if
they should be sick as they thought of the pigeons down in the park in
front of the town hall.  "We buy them at a shop on the other side of town
that specializes in Arabic foodstuffs."
  "They are one of my favourite meals, and Mother makes the best fireek,"
observed Imran, referring to the crushed wheat and mint stuffing.
  The boys had to agree the pigeon, and the rest of the food, was
delicious, and with their ravishing teenage appetites and resiliency, they
soon forgot their surprise they were eating pigeons.  For desert they had
basboosa, a sweet, delicately browned semolina cake soaked with lemon syrup
and decorated with halved almonds.
  Thanking their hosts for the meal, the boys' offer to help clear the
table and do the dishes was politely refused with the observation that was
not the work for boys, and they were told to go and visit.  Each of the
boys had their own bedroom, and they took turns showing their guests their
rooms and some of their favourite possessions, the three brothers having
some interests in common and others that were uniquely their own, just as
the Brewster boys.  They ended up in Imran's bedroom, Imran being the
oldest and having the largest room of the three.
  "So what did you call this day again?" asked Benny.
  "The Feast of Fast-breaking," replied Ismet, "Eid al-Fitr."
  "I still don't understand this fasting bit," observed Bobby.  "I mean,
what is the purpose of not eating or drinking from sunrise to sunset?"
  "It is to show we have discipline," explained Abdul.  "And it is not just
abstaining from eating and drinking.  It is abstaining from all sinful
things.  Fasting strengthens our will power to resist sin for the rest of
the year.  It is obligatory for all who have reached the age of Sin al-
bulugh."
  "Sin al what?"
  "Sin al-bulugh," repeated Abdul.  "It is the age of maturity, the age
where one is considered an adult and becomes accountable for his or her
duties in Islam.  There is no fixed age for that.  For girls it is when
they have their period or get pregnant," he explained with a sly grin.
"For boys it is when they become physically mature, you know, when they
have a wet dream, or start to grow pubic hair, or reach the age of fifteen,
whichever comes first."
  Bobby knew Abdul wasn't fifteen, and he wondered if he'd experienced
either of the other two.  He also wondered what a Moslem boy did when that
happened.  Like, if a boy had a wet dream, he wouldn't go running into the
kitchen the next morning and announce that he had reached the age of Sin
al-bulugh.  Mind you, if he ever had a wet dream, he just could make such
an announcement.  On the other hand, that a guy could be fifteen and not
have had a wet dream or hairs was not something he'd considered possible,
and was something he didn't want to consider!
     "Ramadan is a time of renewal and spiritual rebirth," explained Ismet.
"Sort of like your Easter I guess.  It is one of the five pillars of our
faith."
     "What are the others?"
     "The others are the declaration of faith and belief in the unity of
God, saying daily prayers, giving charity to the poor, and making a
pilgrimage to Mecca once in one's life, if one can."
     "You pray a lot."
     "The Holy Qur'an tells us we are to pray five times, at dawn, noon,
midafternoon, sunset and after dark In addition, we say the Taraweeh, or
Night Prayer, during Ramadan.  Of course there are those who practice their
faith very closely, and others who do not practice it at all, just as you
Christians."
     "Same for the Feast of Fast-breaking.  In Moslem countries Eid al-Fitr
is a national holiday with carnivals and fairs, and it is celebrated for
three days.  For some living in the western world it is not celebrated at
all."
     A knock at the open door interrupted the boys.  "Your father and I are
going out to visit Mister and Mrs Husayn.  I have brought you some
boughasha and I've left you a plate of esh es seraya in the refrigerator
for later, and you can help yourselves to some nuts and sodas.  We will
likely be very late.  You behave yourselves while we are gone."
     The boys assured her that they would, and the Brewsters thanked her
again for the meal and hospitality.  She replied that she was glad to have
such good friends and having them as guests was a small thing compared to
the support her sons had said the boys had given them.
     "Mmmmm, mmmmh," said Abdul as his mother headed back down the hall.
"Esh es seraya and boughasha!"
     "What is that?" asked Bobby.
     "Esh es seraya means bread of the palace.  It is bread which has been
soaked in syrup and is eaten topped with thick whipped cream.  And that is
boughasha," he said, pointing to the cigar- shaped pastries on the dish.
"They are filled with chopped walnuts and sugar."
     "Sounds great," the four Brewster boys chorused, suddenly feeling
hungry again despite the meal they'd just eaten.
     "So, your great-grandparents came from Egypt," observed Brent.
"That's cool."
     "Are you doing ancient Egypt as your history project?" asked Bobby,
addressing Abdul.
     "Yeah.  What are you doing?"
     "Well, I was going to do Greece, but Jung and I are thinking of maybe
doing one of the early dynasties in China together."
     "Both would be interesting.  I like to study early cultures."
     "Me too."
     "Well, maybe you two can go to Abdul's room and talk about history,
and Benny and me can find something to do so Imran can visit with his
friends."
     There was no need for them to visit separately, and from the way Ismet
made the comment, the Brewster brothers could tell there was something he
was not saying.
     "That is not necessary," Imran replied, voicing what they were
thinking, and the tone of his voice confirming their suspicions that
something was going on.
     "Hey, Mother and Father are gone for the next couple hours, it is Eid
al-Fitr, the fast is over, go for it.  It's not as if resisting physical
pleasure is going to please Allah in your case anyway."
     "So, you know so much about what pleases Allah?  When did you become a
mullah?"
     "One does not need to be a mullah to know what the Holy Qur'an says
about homosexuals.  Does it not say in Suras 26, 'Do you approach the males
of humanity, leaving the wives that Allah has created for you?  But you are
a people who transgress'?
  And does it not say in Suras 27, 'Would ye really approach men in your
lusts rather than women?  Nay, ye are a people ignorant!'?  Does not the
Prophet Himself not say in the Hadiths, 'Kill the one who sodomizes and the
one who lets it be done to him.  It is haram.'?"
     "We have had this argument before.  You know the Holy Qur'an also says
in suras 52 when one dies 'Round about them will serve, to them, boys as
pearls well guarded.' and in Suras 76, 'And round about them will serve
boys of perpetual freshness: if thou seest them, thou wouldst think them
scattered pearls.'"
     "Can you deny the Qur'an tells us many times the story of Lot's people
and how they were destroyed for their wicked practice of sodomy?"
     "Ah, well, that's not exactly true," interjected Brent.  Ismet and his
two brothers looked at him in surprise.  "Sodom wasn't exactly destroyed
because the men practised homosexuality."
     "Yeah," agreed Bobby.  "That isn't what happened at all."
     "Oh?" snorted Ismet.  "Is that so?  Were you there?"
                                                                 "Well,
actually," began Bobby.
     "The Bible tells us about Lot also," interjected Brett.  "There are
other interpretations about what happened."
     "That was a long time ago.  Who can know for sure what happened?"
asked Abdul, trying not to take sides.  He had witnessed this argument
between his two older brothers many times, but never before guests before,
and he was uncomfortable, and not just because of his own feelings on the
subject of homosexuality.
     "Then let's talk about something recent.  If it is all right for guys
to have sex with each other, why did the Egyptian police arrest all those
men on the Queen Boat a year and a half ago?"
     The mass arrest of fifty-two men accused of being homosexuals May 11
on the Queen Boat, a tourist boat on the Nile docked at Cairo and long
known as gathering place of the gay community, had been a major event for
those living in Egypt, and for those who were of Egyptian descent living
elsewhere.  The truth of the rumours of the men and boys, one as young as
fifteen, being tortured and forced to confess to being gay had been hotly
debated by Moslem and non- Moslem alike.  There were some who claimed the
men were really political activists and had pointed out that the gay
community in Egypt had been discreetly and quietly tolerated for years.
Others said the arrests were to distract the public from the economic
recession and increase in taxes by the government.  That was supported by
the accompanying accusation that Satanic worship was also occurring on the
boat but which was later withdrawn.  The most likely and most widely
accepted belief, however, was that the government was desperate to present
an image that it was the guardian of public virtue in an attempt to weaken
an Islamist opposition movement called the Muslim Brotherhood that was
appealing to the more orthodox Muslims, along with the criticism of other
Arab states that Egypt was too lenient and too Westernized.
     "You know my answer, and you know I can't prove it any more than you
can prove your answer," replied Imran.  "Either way, I don't think our
guests are interested in hearing about Egyptian politics."
     "Well, I don't know about politics, but I know not all Moslems are
against homosexuality," observed Benny.
     "What do you mean?" asked Ismet in surprise.  From the look on the
faces of his two brothers they were just as surprised as he.
     "Well, take what the poet Abu Nuwas wrote in the "Perfumed Garden" for
example," he said:

     "O the joy of sodomy!  So now be sodomites, you Arabs.
      Turn not away from it therein is wondrous pleasure.
    Take some coy lad with kiss-curls twisting on his temple and ride as he
stands like some gazelle standing to her mate.

                              And

        Make for smooth-faced boys and do your very best
    to mount them, for women are the mounts of the devils."

     "Wow, who said that?" asked Abdul.
     "An Arab poet, Abu Nuwas."
     "How'd you know that?" asked Ismet.
     "Benny knows lots of stuff when it comes to sex," Bobby answered for
him.  "He's a sexpert."
     Ismet looked at Benny, not knowing what to say, and then finally
turned to the twins. "So, you two are gay, like everyone says?" he asked.
     "Ismet!  That's personal," objected Imran.
     "That's okay," Brent replied, "we don't mind.  Yeah, we are."
     "We've come out to our parents and friends," observed Brett, though
none of them were sure if their mother had really believed them considering
the circumstances in which they'd come out to her.  "We just don't make a
big deal about it.  Being gay is just one part of what we are, like being
blond, and liking basketball, and. . . ."
     "Being cute," added Bobby with a twinkle in his eyes.
     "And you two?" Ismet asked, looking at Bobby and Benny.
     "We have sex with guys," Benny said with a shrug.  "But we don't have
boyfriends or nothing like that."
     "It's cool having sex with guys," Bobby observed, ready to defend
himself and his brothers.
     "I know," said Abdul.  The four Brewsters looked at him in surprise.
"I'm gay too."
     "Maybe I should just leave the six of you then and go off by myself,"
Ismet observed, knowing there was no point in arguing Abdul was too young
to make such an announcement.  He had not convinced him in the past, and
was not going to convince him this night.
     "It's much more fun to go off with some else," Bobby responded quickly
with a twinkle in his eyes, and Brett, who usually was the one to think
quickly on his feet, gave his kid brother an appreciative glance.
     "That's not what I meant," Ismet responded dryly, not seeing the
comment as humorous.
     "I know," responded Bobby.
     "But since you asked us something personal," interrupted Benny, "you
owe us a question."
     "Fair's fair," agreed Ismet.
     "You jack off?"
     Ismet flushed with embarrassment and debated how he should answer.
"Yeah.  But I don't think about guys when I do it."
     "But you like how it feels."
     "Yeah.  Doing it isn't a sin or a crime," he observed, though he did
feel guilty about being so weak as to give in to the pleasure of his fist,
something he assumed was not typical of other Moslem boys.
     "Well, we like how it feels too.  Only difference between you and us
is we like to bring other guys pleasure, and have them bring us pleasure
too."
     "I like to bring other guys pleasure too, and have them bring me
pleasure," Ismet objected, "just not in the way you mean it."
     "Have you ever tried our way?"
     "No," he responded emphatically.
     "Ever think about it?"
     "No," he responded again, though the boys noticed not as quickly nor
as firmly.
     "Why not?"
     "I'm just not interested in doing something like that," he replied,
clearly becoming irritated.
     "That's cool.  But it's no reason to put others down for liking it."
     "I don't put others down.  If that's what my brothers want to do
that's up to them."
     "That's true.  Ismet's argued why we shouldn't, you know, do things
with other boys, but he's never been insulting about our preference in
partners," pointed out Imran, "not like many others at school."
     "Just because guys have sex together it don't make them gay you know,"
observed Benny.
     "Of course it does," snorted Ismet.  "That's nonsense."
     "You like girls?"
     "Of course."
     "You ever have sex with one?"
     "Well, no," he admitted, much more uncomfortable being questioned than
he was as the questioner.  "But I've kissed and stuff, and like it," he
observed, emphasizing the last three words.
     "Bet I can kiss you and make you get hard," Benny challenged.
     "No way!"
     "Wanna bet?"
     "Yeah, go for it," the boy responded smugly without thinking, his
quick temper and confidence overriding caution and reason.
     Getting up and sitting down beside Ismet, Benny slipped an arm about
him and bowing his head, pressed his lips against Ismet's.  His lips were
smooth and soft, and his breath smelled of garlic and lemon.  Benny kissed
him half a dozen times, each kiss a bit longer and more forceful.  With the
seventh, he slipped his tongue inside.  From the way Ismet tensed, he could
tell he'd had a reaction.  He withdrew his tongue and their lips parted,
and before Ismet could say anything he kissed the boy again, and again
slipped his tongue in his mouth.  He ran it over Ismet's hot, wet tongue
and then under it.  He reached down to see if he was getting a response.
     "Hey!" said Ismet, pulling away.  "You said kissing.  I didn't agree
to no touching."
     "I was just checking to see how stiff you were getting."
     "Then you know you didn't succeed."
     "Yeah, well I'm not finished yet."
     "You've had your chance."
     "We didn't say there was a time limit," Benny objected.  "And you are
getting stiff."
     "No way."
     "Well you will."
     Ismet hesitated.  He knew it would not happen, and it would prove his
point.  He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.  "Go ahead, but no
touching."
     "How are we going to know when you've got a bone on?"
     "Take it out," suggested Abdul.  "Then there'll be no question."
     "Yeah," agreed Bobby eagerly.
     Ismet glanced at the two youngest boys and then at the others.
Reluctantly pulling down his zipper, he slipped his fingers in the fly of
his pants and underwear and pulled out his cock.  He was uncut, and if not
partially aroused, then certainly well-hung, his brown sausage being close
to four inches in length.  Benny resumed kissing him, applying now all his
skills in earnest, lightly brushing lips in gentle, tender kisses, pressing
lips together forcefully and with passion, slipping his tongue in Ismet's
mouth, and sucking his tongue into his own.  It was the latter that finally
started Ismet's dick to resume its growth.  He pressed his lips more
forcefully against Ismet's and sucked harder, and he basted Ismet's tongue
in his own saliva and then sinking in his cheeks, swallowed.
     Ismet could not help but respond.  He'd never been kissed like Benny
was kissing him, but he'd had some heavy kissing with girls and he knew
that what Benny was trying to do to him was exactly what he'd tried to do
with his dates, get them hot.  Knowing that was why he was being kissed had
caused his dick to begin swelling in the first place, and once Benny
started to deep kiss him he had to admit it was erotic even if it was with
another guy.  Having Benny suck his tongue in his own mouth was the final
barrier.  In a way he was penetrating the hot, hazel-eyed brunette.  He was
sticking a part of his body in him, and even if it was his tongue and not
his penis, it was like having sex.
     Of course he tried to ignore that thought and what was happening, and
then to actively fight it as he felt his dick swelling faster and faster.
The more he tried to fight the growth of his cock the more aware he became
of it, and he was unable to ignore the fact that his two brothers and
Benny's three brothers were all there seeing his cock was getting hard.
That, besides the fact he was a healthy normal teenager with functioning
hormones, and had just gone an entire month of abstinence, not even kissing
a girl never mind jerking himself off, which had resulted in some
interesting dreams and sticky boxers in the morning, was too much to fight,
and once he began to stiffen it did not take long to complete the
transformation.
     "See, a guy can get another guy hard without being gay," Benny said.
The tone of his voice was of one making a simple observation not bragging.
"I've obviously made you feel good, and I did it in a sexual way."  He
looked down at the boy's stiff cock protruding out of his pants.  It looked
to be well over five inches, almost as large as Benny's, and even in its
swollen state, the knob was still fully covered by his skin.
     "And I you," Ismet observed, nodding to the lump in Benny's jeans.  At
least he was not alone.
     "Oh yeah," Benny said.  "Getting a guy hard always gets me hard.  You
gotta admit I made you feel good."
     Ismet glanced at Benny, and then at the others.  "Well?" asked Imran
with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
     "Yeah, okay, it felt good.  But doing it with a girl would have been
faster and better."
     "I dunno," observed Bobby.  "Benny's real skilful with his tongue, and
will do things I bet a lot of girls wouldn't.  He can drive a guy crazing
rimming him."
     "Rimming?"
     "Licking his asshole," Bobby explained.
     "That's gross," Ismet responded, wrinkling up his nose.
     "Wanna bet?" Bobby asked.
     Ismet snorted as he looked at the thirteen-year-old, and then at the
others.  He was no fool.  He'd already lost one bet.  But there was no way
getting your asshole licked was going to feel good.  That was totally
perverted, and that he was certain of.
     "Bet he could make you start leaking."
     "Bobby!" objected Benny.
     "Well, I bet you could.  You're great."  His eyes sparkled with
admiration and confidence.
     "You're on," Ismet said, to everyone's surprise.  There was no way
another boy would be able to do that, and it would prove his point.  Having
failed the first bet, he did have to prove his point, if not to them, then
at least to himself.
     "Okay," Benny agreed after a second, the pause not being because he
was unsure of himself, but because he was considering how he might use the
challenge to the benefit of all of them.  "But if I do make you leak
pre-cum, you gotta let me suck you off, all the way."
     "Sure," Ismet agreed with a shrug.  It was not going to happen, and
even it if did, getting sucked off by a fag didn't make the guy getting
sucked a fag.
     Removing his trousers and his boxers so that he was wearing only his
new white shirt and his white ankle socks, Ismet lay down on the floor on
his back, and raising his legs as instructed, he threw them over his head
and bent them so that he was laying on his shoulders and his knees were
above his ears, resulting in his asshole being stuck in the air and his
stiff dick pointing down at his face.  Benny knelt down in front of him,
and using his body to help support Ismet's, he leaned forward and stuck out
his tongue.  Ismet watched in disbelief as his fifteen-year-old school mate
lowered his head and ran his hot, wet tongue up along his crack, as if
licking the icing from a cake.  Despite being the grossest thing anyone had
ever done to him or he'd ever considered anyone doing, it was erotic.  The
boy was licking the crack of his ass, from his tail bone to his balls, and
not under duress nor in subjugation, but out of desire.
     Benny loved rimming more than any other type of foreplay.  He loved
the smell and the taste of a boy's sweaty crack, delighting in the
saltiness and the tang of his butthole, delighting in the smoothness and
firmness of a boy's buns.  Most of all he enjoyed the eroticism and the
connotations associated with what he was doing.  There was nothing more
perverse than the thought of someone licking someone's ass crack and
someone worming his tongue up someone's asshole.  Telling someone to kiss
your ass or to lick it was the filthiest perversion one boy could suggest
to another, and yet it was the most delightful experience to have a hot,
wet, tongue lapping at your hole, and for him, to worm his tongue against
that sensitive and underappreciated erotic zone.  Teenage boys were
particularly conscious of their hygiene, and that included keeping their
anus thoroughly clean.  A guy's asshole was no dirtier than a woman's teat,
and nobody found the idea of a guy sucking a girl's tit revolting.  In fact
being enclosed and protected by two layers of clothing, a guy's trousers
and his underwear, his ass was probably cleaner, and certainly being kept
warm by his underwear left it with an erotic and distinct boy aroma.
     Benny's delight was obvious to Ismet as he watched the teenage boy
lapping at his hole and trying to stick his tongue up his anus, trying to
penetrate his rectum just as earlier he'd penetrated his mouth with that
organ.  That thought caused his cock to jerk with excitement, something
that his kid brother Abdul was quick to notice and point out.  Abdul's
comment brought to home the fact that he was laying on the floor clothed
only in his shirt and socks, his naked ass and his privates exposed to
everyone else in the room.  He was the only one so exposed, all the rest
still having their clothes on which added to the eroticism of what was
happening.  He and Benny were engaging in sex in front of his two brothers
and in front of Benny's brothers.  His cock jerked again, and the thought
that he was performing an act of sex in front of his brothers and newly
formed friends caused a lust to begin swirling deep in the pit of his
loins.
     Benny and his brothers were friends.  Actually, they were one of the
few non-Arab friends that they had.  Oh, they had many white acquaintances
and a number of black also, but few of them were more than classmates or
casual friends, compared to those whom they hung with after school or on
weekends, who tended to be fellow Egyptians first, and fellow Arabs and
Moslems second.  Yes, they'd had a few non-Arab friends in their home, to
work on homework assignments, or dropping in before heading out to a
basketball game or the mall or something, but the Brewsters were the first
to have supper and to spend the night since they had moved to Crestview
Heights.  Now one of them was hotly and eagerly licking his asshole,
worming his hot, firm tongue in his anus, pressing his lips against it and
sucking on it.  Someone who did that was more than a casual friend!
     Ismet squirmed.  Benny was actually sucking on his asshole, his hazel
eyes sparkling behind his lowered lids and long fluttering lashes as if he
was sucking on an orange or a melon.  Just as minutes ago they'd been
sucking face, now Benny was sucking ass, his ass.  A tiny droplet of
pre-cum oozed out of the tip of his uncut cock wagging above his head.
Never had anything this erotic ever happened to him.  That meant Benny
would be sucking him off.  He'd be getting a blow job, his first blow job,
that night.  More pre-cum oozed out of his cock with that thought.  Any
second now there would be enough that it would drip off the tip of his
stiff sausage, drip down in his face.  Oh Allah, that would be erotic,
dripping his pre-cum in his face as his schoolmate sucked on his hole, and
with his brother's and Benny's brothers watching!  The droplet clinging to
the tip of his cock began to grow.
     Benny, and the others, had noticed of course, and as the clear
pre-fuck began to drip from the tip of Ismet's cock Benny quickly slipped
around to the side of the inverted boy and caught his fresh, sweet nectar
on the tip of his tongue.  Seeing his pendant of boy juice being caught by
Benny's extended tongue caused another globule to form at the tip of his
cock and to ooze down the pendant like a pearly bead slipping down a silver
thread.  It was too much.  He felt his lust building in his loins, a lust
that until that moment had been reserved for thoughts of tit he'd groped on
the date he'd just returned home from, or thoughts late at night as he
slowly jerked off to thoughts of what it would be like to fuck one of his
classmates, or some hot playgirl whose picture he'd found on the Internet.
     Benny eased Ismet back down onto his back and at the same time pushed
down his jeans and underwear and slipped them off, it all being so smooth
and so natural that he'd done it without pause and without drawing any
attention to what he was doing.  He now straddled the prostrate boy, laying
in the opposite direction on his knees and elbows with his forearms
extended along his hips and his calves along his head, clad like Ismet,
only in his black socks and deep blue shirt.  He ran his tongue around the
skin-encased knob of the fifteen-year-old Arab boy, his smooth, slender
cock the same sexy brown colour as the rest of his body, his nuts a
slightly darker blackish-brown and swollen and wrinkled like a washboard in
their arousal.  Puckering his soft, moist lips and opening them to form an
"O", he slipped them over the head of the delightful brown sausage and
eased them down over the slight bulb of his knob and down his smooth shaft,
down his five-and-a-half inches to the base of his organ and his thick,
curly black hairs.
     Benny inhaled deeply and his stiff cock twitched with the unique
fragrance of the Arab boy's balls, his genital sweat a combination of his
spicy, garlic accented diet and his hormone- driven masculinity.  It was an
aphrodisiac to the already horny, lust driven teenage boy, driven to new
heights of arousal from having rimmed his first Arab boy, and now sucking
his first Arabian cock.  The taste of Ismet's brown boyhood and the spicy
aroma of his balls caused a droplet of pre-cum to form at the exposed
opening of Benny's own stiff cock, his foreskin having eased back off his
knob to form a collar below the flange.  He pressed his lips together and
slowly eased his lips up the smooth, slender sausage of the deeply
breathing Arab boy, and another droplet joined the first to form a tiny
pearl of pre-cum at the tip of his five-and-three-quarter inch cock.
     Ismet of course saw the developing pearl, and thought of his own
droplet of pre-cum and how Benny had eagerly, almost hungrily, caught it on
his tongue.  Just the thought of that caused the lust in his loins to
double.  He knew how Benny was feeling, and he knew that the droplet of
pre-cum would continue to develop until it fell under its own weight.  The
boy's cock, slightly larger than his own and a pale pink like the rest of
his body in comparison to his own skin, was directly above his eyes, and
the droplet, when it did fall, would strike his face.  He wondered what a
boy's pre-cum would taste like, if it would be like glue considering how
sticky it was, or if it would be sweet like the straight porn stories on
the net said.
     Reaching up and placing his hands on Benny's hips, he pulled him down
toward him and forward, directing his stiff cock until it was above his
mouth.  He parted his lips and continued to push down.  This would be his
only opportunity to find out what it tasted like, and just tasting it did
not make him a fag.  He stuck out his tongue as the boy's swollen mushroom
cap approached his lips.  His clear juice was sticky, and it did not taste
at all how he'd expected, being neither sweet nor like glue, being more
like almond than anything else.  He inhaled deeply, inhaling Benny's own
uniquely scented balls, and the aroma accented the flavour of his sticky
droplet of pre-cum.  Ismet slipped his lips about the mushroom-shaped cap
and sucked gently on the hot, hard cockhead, causing another droplet of the
boy's nectar to ooze out.  Benny sucked harder on Ismet's cock and would
have smiled if he'd been able.  He'd assumed the position he'd had on
purpose, and as he'd suspected, feeling how it was getting his own cock
sucked, Ismet could not resist at least trying Benny's, not with his
leaking cock inches above his face.  He was, after all, a healthy, horny
teenage boy.
     Abdul and Bobby glanced at each other and grinned.  That Benny had
seduced Ismet had come as no surprise to Bobby.  He'd known if anyone could
do it his older brother could, and Benny hadn't disappointed him.  Glancing
at the two boys sixty-nining on the bedroom floor, he looked Abdul in the
eyes and whispered, "you wanna do it?"
     "You bet," replied Abdul eagerly, his new trousers bulging out.  "Let
me at el fortass."
     "You want my ass?"
     "No, el fortass.  The bald one," Abdul replied with a grin.
     "He's all yours," Bobby replied, pulling down his fly, "as long as I
get your el fortass too."
     Abdul readily pulled down his zipper.  The two thirteen-year-olds were
eager to satisfy the itch between their legs, their cocks having been stiff
and aching before Benny and Ismet had gotten hard.  Pushing their trousers
and underwear down to their knees, and laying on the floor beside their two
brothers on their sides and facing each other, the two boys, having only
recently turned thirteen, reached out for each other's cock.  The two boys
were almost identical in height and weight.  Bobby, now four-foot-nine and
ninety pounds and his uncut cock four-and-a-half inches long, was only
slightly shorter and lighter than Abdul, and his cock was only slightly
longer than Abdul's, which was also uncut.  There the similarity ended.
Bobby was very much a product of his Scottish and English ancestry with his
pale skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair, and of his American culture
with his gelled and teased irregularly cut hair, as was his older brother
with his shaved, darkened sides and copper tint.  Abdul Gamal Malik was
just as much a product of his Arab ancestry with his thick, coarse black
hair, dark irises, thick lips, sharp nose and naturally brown skin, and of
his Moslem culture with his traditionally cut and groomed hair, short on
the sides and only slightly longer on top in a 1950's style, identical to
that of his brothers.
     The two boys might be of different ancestry, cultures, and religion,
and they might have had different childhoods, but they did have some things
in common.  They were boys, they were newly into their teens and horny,
they liked to mess around with other boys, and at the moment they had
stiff, aching cocks that needed satisfying.  The two boys slipped their
fingers about each other's aching organ, Bobby's pink fingers contrasting
with Abdul's dark-skinned cock, and Abdul's slender, brown fingers
contrasting with Bobby's hot pink organ.  The two boys, no strangers to
sixty-nining, wiggled closer to each other and slipped their lips over each
other's cocklet as they held the perverse popsicles by the base.
     Bobby noticed that Abdul's pubes were as smooth as his own, which
ruled out the second requirement for him to be the age of bulugh.  That
could only mean one other thing, and while he was disappointed that another
boy his own age was able to do what he still was not, he was eager to
sample the boy's young, fresh semen.  So he eagerly sucked on Abdul's stiff
cocklet, and Abdul, to Bobby's delight, just as eagerly sucked on his.
Each boy quivered with delight as he sucked the other, quivering with the
pleasure of sucking on the smooth fleshy cylinder in his mouth, and at the
same time quivering with the pleasure of having his own cock surrounded by
a hot, moist, eagerly sucking mouth.
     At the same time as Bobby and Abdul had begun to push down their
trousers, their oldest brothers had glanced at each other, and not having
to say a word, the twins reached out and began to strip Imran.  As Brent
unbuttoned the boy's new shirt and the boy unbuttoned his, Brett unzipped
Imran's fly and unbuttoned the top of his trousers.  As the boys removed
each other's shirts, Brett pulled down Imran's pants and removed them along
with his socks.  As Imran similarly unzipped and unsnapped Brent's trousers
and pulled them off with his socks, Brett removed his own shirt, and Brent
and Imran removed the recently turned seventeen-year-old's cargo pants and
socks together.  The three boys, clad only in their underwear, Imran in a
pair of Calvin Kleins, the white cloth contrasting with his brown skin and
the pocket bulging with his aroused flesh, and the twins in a matching pair
of Abercrombie and Fitch boxer briefs which were similarly tented out,
caressed and kissed each other.  Imran's long, slender fingers contrasted
with the twins' pale skin, and their hands contrasted with Imran's body,
his skin, like his brothers, having the soft, rich brown colour of powdered
cocoa.
     Imran and Brent kissed, their soft, warm lips pressed together gently
and tenderly as they ran their hands up and down each other's backs and as
Brett snuggled up behind Imran and reaching around caressed his smooth,
firm chest.  Imran and Brett kissed as they massaged each other's buttocks
and Brent reached down and stroked Imran's growing cock as he nibbled on
the boy's nape.  Brent and Brett kissed each other as Imran kissed the nape
of one brother and then the other and caressed their bodies with growing
excitement.
     Finding their own place on the floor, the three boys lay down, and as
Brett reached out and took Imran's stiff cock in his hand, Imran reached
out and took Brent's as Brent reached out and took his brothers.  Forming a
circle, the threesome snuggled in closer and licked and nibbled each
other's cock.  The twins, having celebrated their birthdays only four days
earlier, were now five-foot-eight-and-a-half and a hundred-and thirty-eight
pounds, and their stiff cocks now an impressive seven and a half inches.
Imran, having turned seventeen six months earlier than the twins, was the
same height but ten pounds heavier, and his cock, loosely cut, was half an
inch shorter, which was still an impressive size for a seventeen-year-old.
     By this time Benny and Ismet were ready to shoot, and the two
fifteen-year-olds eagerly sucked on each other as they felt their climaxes
approaching.  Benny of course took just as much delight in sucking Ismet as
he was in being sucked, the pleasure even greater knowing that he was
sucking and being sucked by a straight boy who was engaging in his first
gay experience.  It was always especially hot to have sex with someone who
was doing it for their first time, and when that someone was also a sworn
heterosexual, it was even hotter.  You would never have guessed Ismet was a
hundred percent straight and had never sucked cock before from the way he
was sucking Benny.  Caught up in the pleasure of having his sausage sucked,
and the excitement of sucking cock for the first time himself, he eagerly
sucked on the first prick he'd ever sucked in his life, and he squirmed
with the pleasure of his approaching orgasm.
     "Unnnggh, ahhhm caghmmmmnnn," he mumbled, his mouth full of hot,
throbbing cock as his own aching cock went numb and he felt his cum begin
to surge up the core.  It raced up the core and spurted out with a violent
force that caused his body to twitch and his head to spin dizzily.  He'd
never shot so violently in all the jerking off sessions he'd ever had.
     Benny drew his lips up to the boy's knob and allowed him to fill his
mouth with his thick, tart boy juice, delighting in the flavour and texture
of his semen as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, sucking in the spicy
fragrance of Ismet's balls as his mouth filled with the boy's milky seed.
"Mmmeghhh oooogh," he warned, his mouth filled with cock and cum.  His own
boy juice surged up the core of his cock and shot into Ismet's mouth,
rapidly filling it as he shot squirt after squirt, his balls drawn up
tightly under his throbbing cock.
     Ismet had been so light-headed from his own orgasm that he'd been
unable to think as Benny warned him, and by the time he realized what was
about to happen, it already was.  Benny's thick, creamy load squirted into
his mouth, his cock throbbing out squirt after squirt. The slimy, slippery
texture, the heat of his boy juice, and the nutty fragrance of his tight
balls sent shivers up Ismet's spine, shivers of delight and of erotic
pleasure.  He inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, his cheeks
flushed with his orgasm and with having just received another boy's semen
in his mouth.  As he swallowed the creamy teenage cum, copying Benny's
action and too self-conscious to spit it out, gooseflesh formed on his arms
and legs.  Feeling Benny slip his lips off his still stiff cock, he did
likewise, and as Benny raised his right leg and crawled off him, he slipped
out from under him and the two boys sat up.  Benny's hazel eyes were bright
with pleasure, and his rosy lips were glistening with the fresh cum he'd
sucked out of Ismet's balls.  Ismet stared back at him, his eyes glazed
with the shock of their combined climax and with pleasure, a dribble of cum
extending from the corner of his lips and down around his chin, its creamy
whiteness contrasting with his cocoa-brown skin.
     Beside them, Bobby and Abdul began to grunt and whimper with their own
orgasms, the two boys jerking and bucking with the pleasure rippling
through their irritated cocklets and smooth pubes, the two boys wracked
with the sweet pain of their dry orgasms.
  So, Abdul had not yet reached his age of maturity either.  As far as the
two thirteen-year-olds were concerned at the moment, that didn't mean fuck.
They quivered and sighed with just as much pleasure as their older
brothers, and their cocklets burned with just as great an intensity.
     The twins and Imran were the last to come, the three
seventeen-year-old boys grasping each other's hips and eagerly drinking the
fresh, sweet teenage cum from the hot, throbbing spigots in their mouths.
Drinking teenage cum was nothing new to any of the three, and for the
twins, engaged in a threesome was hardly new either.  Engaging in a daisy
chain with a hot, handsome Arabian boy was, and Brent eagerly and
delightedly shot his load into Imran's mouth and Imran just as delightfully
shot his Arabian seed into Brett's mouth as Brett filled his brother's.
The three boys savoured the texture and flavour of that unique nectar, and
delighted in their orgasms and in having brought another boy off.
     "So, anyone want a boughasha?" asked Abdul some time later.
     "You bet," observed Bobby, reaching over and picking up a pastry as
Abdul held out the plate.  "I've worked up an appetite."
     "Who'd like a soda?" asked Imran as he got up, and all six put up
their hands.
     The boys ate and drank in silence at first, each self conscious and
thinking about what had happened, and all wondering just how Ismet was
feeling about it.  As the sodas and the walnut- filled pastries replaced
the taste of cock and cum, they began to relax.
     "So," said Brent finally as he looked at Imran.  "You said you were
gay.  You have a boyfriend?"
     "Yes," he replied, "but not here.  I have a boyfriend, but he lives in
San Francisco.  We met though GLAS."
     "GLAS?"
     "Gay and Lesbian Arabic Society.  They have a web site, glas.org.  We
have not seen each other since our visit back to San Francisco in July.  We
Email each other though, or chat, every day."
      "Yeah, long mushy lovey dovey chats," observed Abdul, rolling his
eyes.
     "You said you were gay too," commented Bobby, looking at Abdul.
     "Yeah, but I don't got no boyfriend or nothing.  I just like to be
with guys, to talk with them and hang with them and stuff, and to have sex
with of course.  I never have been interested girls."
     "So you've had sex with guys before."
     "Shit yeah."
     "Abdul loves abou a'ne."
     "Abou a'ne?"
     "He of one eye."
     "Oh," Bobby said with a grin.
     "So does Bobby, " observed Benny.  "I heard you call it something else
too."
     "El fortass, the bald one," replied Abdul.  "There are dozens of
nicknames for it, just as there are dozens of different names in English."
     "Oh yeah?" asked Benny, his eyes bright.  "I'd like to hear them
sometime."
     "Your brother said you speak many languages.  You know the names for a
guy's thing in other languages?" asked Abdul.
     "Oh yeah," observed Benny.  "I'd be glad to tell you them."
     "Anyone want more nuts?" asked Ismet, picking up the bowl and holding
it out.
     "Oh yeah, thought you'd never ask," Bobby replied with an impish grin
as he turned and reached down and groped Ismet's once again loose and
low-hung balls. After their earlier sex none of the boys had bothered to
get dressed, Bobby and Abdul having removed their pants and underwear and
sitting there in their shirts and socks like Benny and Ismet, the twins and
Imran being stark naked and acting as if it was perfectly natural.
     "Should have warned you not to sit beside Bobby," Benny said with a
grin as he glanced at his kid brother.
     "Well, you know what they say," Bobby responded.  "Once you start
eating nuts you can't stop."  He continued to fondle Ismet's sack as he
looked up at the fifteen-year-old boy.  "Actually," he said, "what I'd
really like is to sit on your stiff el fortass."
     Ismet snorted at the boy's brashness, and in surprise that he'd
actually say he wanted to do such a thing.
     "Bobby's not joking," observed Brett.
     "Oh yeah.  There's nothing he likes better than to have a stiff one up
his ass," agreed Brent.
     "I take after you, big brother," Bobby said with a grin, his fingers
now wrapped about Ismet's limp, cocoa brown cock.
     "You ever have your ass fucked?" Benny asked, looking at Abdul.
     "Sure," the thirteen-year-old boy responded with a grin.  "Though not
that often," he added, furrowing his brow.
     "You don't like it?"
     "Oh no, I like it.  Just I've never known many guys who like to do it.
You offering?" he asked with a twinkle in his dark eyes.
     "Sure," Benny replied readily.
     By this time Bobby was stroking Ismet's rapidly swelling cock, and as
Abdul and Benny moved together, Imran and the twins once more looked at
each other.  "I feel like an Arabian sandwich," Brett observed, looking at
Brent.  "What do you say brother?"
     "Oh yeah," Brent agreed as he reached out and took Imran's cock in his
hand.
     As Imran and Brent fondled each other's balls and fiddled with each
other's cock, Brett caressed Imran's buttocks, running his long, slender
fingers over the boy's smooth, cocoa- coloured buns and running his index
finger up along his ass crack.  Ismet and Bobby sat side by side on Imran's
bed and fiddled with each other's nuts and cock, and as Bobby ran his
fingers through the older boy's hairs, Ismet stroked Bobby's smooth pubes.
He was not certain about going through with this, but he was horny, and it
was Eid al-Fitr, and he'd already engaged in one homosexual act that
evening.  Abdul and Benny had meanwhile begun kissing as they caressed each
other, the two boys exchanging soft, gentle kisses as they massaged each
other's backs and reached down and gently tugged on each other's cock,
thirteen-year-old Abdul following Benny's lead.
     It was not long before Ismet was erect.  Having him lay on his back on
the floor, Bobby worked up a mouth of spittle and kneeling over the boy,
dribbled his drool over his cock, causing it to twitch with anticipation
and with arousal.  Feeling and watching the boy's warm, bubbly spittle
oozing over his knob, still encased in its skin, and down his shaft, Ismet
could not believe how hot it was making him feel.  Placing a leg on either
side of the fifteen-year-old boy and facing him, Bobby slowly and carefully
squatted down.  As his backside touched the head of the boy's stiff cock,
Bobby wiggled into position, and as Ismet held his cock in position, Bobby
continued to slowly lower himself.  At five-and-a-half inches, his cock was
a nice size for his age, and it was the first Arabian cock Bobby would have
ever had up his rectum besides, giving the thirteen-year- old two good
reasons for sitting on the teenager's dick, not that Bobby had to have a
reason to sit on a cock.
     Ismet had mixed feelings about what was happening.  He'd enjoyed
getting his cock sucked, and being a normal healthy, teenage boy, he'd
fantasized about being blown many times, usually by a girl but given the
circumstances of his two brothers, on occasion even by a boy, not that he'd
ever imagined he'd actually see that fantasy become reality.  As for
sucking cock, he had, again the result of the pursuits of his two brothers,
wondered what it might be like, though that curiosity he definitely had not
expected to ever pursue.  As for what he was about to do, he'd never once
fantasized about that, with a guy or a girl.  Fucking meant sticking your
cock up a girl's pussy, and that was it.  Sticking his cock up someone's
shit hole, female or male, was not something that he had ever considered as
being even remotely erotic.  He was now, however, about to do just that,
and up the ass of a boy two years younger than he was besides, a boy the
same age as his younger brother.
     Imran, Brent, and Brett were having no doubts about what they were
about to do.  The three horny seventeen-year-olds had each other erect in
no time, and while Brent lubed up Imran's prong with his spittle, Imran
lubed up Brett's.  Dropping to his hands and knees, Brent braced himself as
Imran knelt down behind him.  Kneeling down beside the two boys, Brett
pulled his twin brother's ass cheeks apart as Imran wedged his cockhead in
the boy's pucker.  As Imran slowly pushed forward, Brent relaxed and pushed
out with his stomach, opening his sphincter for the Arabian boy.  The two
grunted and snorted as they strained, and slowly Imran's long, brown cock
entered the pink backside of the Canadian-American boy.  Brent continued
pushing out as he felt his body being penetrated, and he inhaled and
exhaled deeply as Imran sunk his cock up his backside until the boy's
coarse, curly hairs were tickling his rump. Having another boy sink that
most precious organ deep up his body was, for Brent, the greatest pleasure
in the world.
     Once Imran's cock was stuck up Brent's ass as far as he could get it,
Brett knelt behind the Arabian boy, and pushing his seven-and-a-half inch
probe down so it was parallel to the floor, he shuffled forward until the
tip was pressing against Imran's brown pucker.
  As Brett continued to press forward, Imran relaxed and pushed out with
his stomach muscles just as Brent had pushed out to accommodate him.  Like
Brent, having his ass fucked was something he particularly enjoyed, he and
his boyfriend having engaged in this act just as often as they'd
sixty-nined when he'd lived in San Francisco.  Just as he and Brent had
done, now he and Brett snorted and grunted as they strained to unite.
Slowly Brett's stiff cock stretched open the boy's pucker until his
gradually sloping cock head popped inside Imran's rectum and his sphincter
snapped shut behind the flange of Brett's knob.
     Bobby had meanwhile sat down on Ismet's stiff five-and-a-half inches
and his naked backside was now nestled in the Arab boy's dark black hairs.
Abdul had meanwhile squatted down above his older brother's head facing
Bobby so that his cock and balls were directly above Ismet's mouth.  As
he'd hoped, Ismet took his hairless balls in his mouth and began to suck on
them.  At the same time Benny had dropped to his knees behind Abdul, his
stiff cock generously lubed with spittle.  Pressing the tip against Abdul's
asshole, he grasped the younger boy's hips and pressed his hips forward,
wedging cock in the boy's opening.  Telling him to relax and to push out
with his stomach muscles, he grasped the boy's hips even tighter and
continued to relentlessly push forward.  Ever so slowly but surely his cock
entered the thirteen-year-old Arabian boy, to the delight of both of them.
     So, as Bobby rode up and down on Ismet's cock, Ismet sucked on the
stiff dick of his younger brother, and as Abdul was sucked off by his older
brother, Bobby's older brother began to fuck Abdul's ass.  As Benny slowly
eased his cock in and out of the hot, moist chamber of the younger boy,
Abdul wrapped his arms about Bobby and the two thirteen-year-old boys, one
white and one brown, both with long eyelashes, smooth cheeks, and moist
lips, bent forward and kissed.  Their lips parted and met again.  As they
kissed gently and fondly, Bobby continued to ride up and down the stiff
teenage cock up his ass, and Abdul continued to quiver with arousal as
Benny slowly eased his teenage cock in and out of the boy's rectum.  The
breathing of the four boys became deeper and more laboured with their
exertion and their lust.  Bobby and Abdul quivered as the two stiff cocks
massaged their prostates, and Benny and Ismet quivered as the friction sent
ripples of irritation through their dickheads.  Abdul reached out and began
to fondle Bobby's slender, stiff cocklet as the two youngsters continued to
kiss.
     Imran was meanwhile slowly pulling his hips back and impaling himself
on Brett's seven- and-a-half inch cock until his smooth, round backside
pressed against the boy's curly blond hairs, at the same time easing his
stiff, aching cock out of Brett's brother's butt until the flange of his
knob was stretching open the teenage boy's sphincter.  He then reversed his
motion, pushing his hips forward and sinking his stiff, aching cock up
Brent's hot, moist rectum, and sliding his ass up Brett's cock until the
boy's knob began to stretch open his own sphincter.  Inhaling deeply and
grasping Brent's hips tightly, he slowly drew back again, easing his stiff,
aching cock out of the teenage's rectum, and at the same time sinking his
ass back down on the twin's brother's stiff cock.  And so the brown-skinned
Arabian boy worked his body to and fro, fucking the pink skinned,
blond-haired boy in front of him while the boy's twin grasped his hips with
delight as he rode the long-haired boy's identical cock.
     Once again the bedroom was filled with the heavy breathing of the
seven teenagers as they approached their orgasms, the seven boys working
eagerly and deliberately toward that blissful moment, eager to experience
once again the dynamic explosion between their legs, and at the same time
eager to bring the same pleasure to the boy they were united with.
  As he rode up and down Ismet's cock, Bobby was delighting just as much in
bringing Ismet pleasure as he was in the pleasure he was feeling having
Ismet's hot, stiff cock easing in and out of his rectum.  Ismet, finding
having a boy riding his stiff cock was more pleasant than he could have
ever imagined, sucked on the cock of his younger brother, desiring to bring
his brother as much pleasure as he'd felt not that long ago getting his
first blow job, and at the same time delighting in the knowledge that his
long, stiff cock was bringing pleasure to the boy riding it.  Abdul
meanwhile kissed Bobby hungrily and tugged on the thirteen-year-old's stiff
cocklet, delighting in the pleasure he was bringing his pale-skinned
schoolmate as much as he was delighting in having his ass fucked by the
boy's brother and his cock sucked by his own brother.  Benny, of course,
was grunting and snorting with the pleasure of having his stiff, aching
cock surrounded by hot, moist ass as he worked his organ in and out of the
hot young Arab boy, and he trembled with the pleasure of knowing that he
was arousing the boy and sending thrills of pleasure through his body each
time his cockhead brushed against the younger boy's prostate.
     Finally with a whimper and a sigh, Imran trembled and grasped Brent's
hips as he lunged forward and shot his semen deep up the blond-haired boy's
rectum, and Brett similarly whimpered as he grasped Imran's hips and lunged
forward, his spurting cock beginning to fill Imran's rectum with the
seventeen-year-old's semen.  As he felt the hot spurts of cum shooting up
his rectum, Imran trembled with the double pleasure of spurting his cum up
Brent's rectum and having Brett fill his.  Brent groaned in ecstasy as he
knelt there on his hands and knees, delighting in having his ass fucked,
and at the same time trembling with his own orgasm as his cock jerked in
the air and spewed forth his seed to land in long ropes on Imran's
colourful bedroom carpet.
     At the same time Bobby was trembling with delight as he felt Ismet's
hot semen gush up his rectum and as his own body was wracked once again
with the sweet pain of his dry orgasm.  Abdul too was squirming and gasping
with the pleasure of his dry orgasm as he felt Benny's hot cock throbbing
out the fifteen-year-old's cum up his ass, and as his older brother sucked
desperately on his throbbing cocklet.  The two thirteen-year-olds grasped
each other tightly as their asses were filled with hot, white teen lava and
their bodies jerked with their own orgasms.  Benny grasped Abdul's hips
tightly as he pumped out his seed up the young Arab boy's ass, and Ismet
trembled as he felt his stiff cock throbbing out his seed for the second
time that night, in the second homosexual act of his life.
     Once again the room was filled with the gasps and sighs of seven boys
reaching their orgasms, and once again the bedroom was scented with the
fragrance of hot teenage boys in rut and hot fresh cum.  The twins, Imran
and Abdul closed their eyes and sighed, rejoicing that they were gay and
that they knew each other.  For them, there was no greater pleasure than
having sex between boys.  As for Bobby and Benny, the two boys were
delighted that they were boys and that had no reservations about having sex
with those of the same sex as themselves.  If they would find the same
pleasure with girls in the future was still an unknown, but for the moment,
they did not care.  As for seventeen-year-old Ismet, this had been an
awesome and revealing evening, one he would never forget.  The sex had been
fantastic, but not enough to sway his beliefs nor to sway him from his
orientation, but he was much more aware of what his older and younger
brother were experiencing, and would in the future be much more accepting
of their life style.
     As the six naked boys slipped out to the kitchen for more sodas and
generous helpings of esh es seraya, there was a much closer bond between
the Malik brothers.  As for the Brewsters, their first celebration of Eid
al-Fitr had been fucking fantastic so far, and after they renewed their
energies with bread of the palace and few sodas, it was bound to only get
better with their new Moslem friends.