Date: Fri, 9 Sep 2005 22:15:19 +0200
From: PeterUK <peter745@btinternet.com>
Subject: Somali Encounter in London - ch 2, Abdul's story

Abduls' story

Part 1 - refugee in Addis Ababa

Abdul spent the next ten days recovering from the accident.  Slowly his
ribs healed, and by day ten he could lie on his side.  God, how I loved it
when I lay beside him, curled into him so that my cock nestled between his
dark brown cheeks, and I could nibble his ear and lick his neck before we
fell asleep.

I took some time off work to look after him, but mostly to get to know him
better.  How had he got to London?  Why had he come?  At first he didn't
want to open up, but one evening -day nine I think - we had gone to bed
early and he had wanted to fuck me.  No, he gagged to fuck me and so, to
protect his ribs, I insisted on riding him, clasping his dick with my arse
muscles each time he pulled out, plunging down on his cock each time he
fucked up.  Poor guy, he seemed in agony as much as ecstasy, so I began to
milk him with my arse muscles and he couldn't hold back.  He muttered
something in Somali, gripping my thighs, eyes tightly shut, and fired off
inside me.  Jesus, I hadn't enjoyed a fuck like that for months.

We lay together exhausted, and as I caressed him, in lazy post-orgasmic
bliss, he finally opened up to me.

He and his cousin, Djalil, had been sent to stay with an Uncle, Mohamed,
the youngest of Abdul's father's three brothers, in Ethiopia to escape the
civil war in Somalia, when both boys were seventeen.  Abdul knew he liked
looking at men from going to the Hammam.  Of course, as the men weren't
naked, he had never seen a naked man apart from his cousin, who used to
stay over sometimes and sleep in the same bed as Abdul.  But all his cousin
could talk about was girls, so Abdul never talked to him about what he
liked.

He hadn't seen his Uncle Mohamed for some years - he was about 35 when he
saw him again - and Abdul fell for him, heavily.  Mohamed had beautiful
dark eyes, shiny black hair and a light beard.  He also had great charm and
was a natural flirt. He smiled at Abdul often, put his arm around his
shoulders, laughed at his attempts at jokes.  Who couldn't love Mohamed?
Well, Djalil for one, who thought his Uncle far too friendly and far too
little interested in girls.  Here he was, a reasonably successful
businessman in Addis with no wife, and no inclination to find one.

Abdul didn't care, he just loved being with Mohamed.  Before long, Djalil
had got himself some sort of scholarship with the British Council to study
in London, and he went, promising to send for Abdul as soon as he
could. The first night he was alone with Mohamed, they had eaten and were
watching TV together afterwards, lying on floor cushions.  Mohamed's arm
was around Abdul's shoulder and Abdul just leaned into him, nestling under
his arm. Mohamed pulled him closer and their arms and thighs touched.
Abdul had a raging erection that he was doing his best to hide, but he was
wearing a loose gelabiyya that evening, a sort of Arab dress for men, with
no pants, and his cock just tented it.  He was dying from shame and lust.

At first Mohamed pretended not to notice, but then he smiled at Abdul and
joked that he must be in real heat, as his erection had been there for at
least 10 minutes.  Abdul wanted to crawl under the cushions, but he looked
very shame-faced at the floor and said nothing.  Mohamed laughed and said
it was nothing to be ashamed of - all men got erections.  Look, he had one
too. He cupped his pole in his jeans and smiled at Abdul.

He began to caress Abdul's ear and cheek and when Abdul sighed with
satisfaction, Mohamed began to caress his leg with his other hand, slowly
lifting the gelabiyya to expose Abdul's naked legs.  He couldn't help
himself - he wanted desperately for this to happen. He shyly caressed
Mohamed's leg through his jeans.  Mohamed went higher and soon all of
Abdul's lower body was exposed.  He lifted his bum so that the gelabiyya
would slip past it and he took it off, so that he was naked on the
cushions.  At this point, Mohamed stood up and took of his jeans and pants,
leaving him in just his T-shirt.  He lay next to Abdul and leaned over and
kissed him, running his hand up Abdul's thighs and stroking his
balls. Abdul opened his legs wider to give him better access, and he
grasped Abdul's cock and slowly began to slide his hand up and down it.

Of course, Abdul had wanked many times, but this was wild, fantastic, out
of this world.  By now Mohamed too was totally erect, so Abdul gingerly
stroked it, his first feel of a real man. Mohamed gasped with pleasure, so
Abdul went further, gripping it more tightly and spreading the pre-cum
oozing out of the slit all around the dark, enflamed knob.

Suddenly Mohamed leaned over and took Abdul's cock in his mouth, sliding
his lips up and down it, giving sensations like he had never experienced
before.  He lay back, glass-eyed, while Mohamed rolled his balls in his
hand and sucked expertly on his cock.  It didn't take long for Abdul to
shoot a huge load into Mohamed's mouth, and the amazing thing was that he
drank it all down.

When he had come down from his high, Abdul smiled at Mohamed and leaned
over to lick his cock.  He couldn't bring himself to take it in his mouth,
but he licked up and down and liked the taste, especially of the clear
liquid oozing from the slit.  He began to gently wank Mohamed and soon he
too shot all over his stomach, the white cream contrasting against the dark
skin.

That night, and each night afterwards, he slept with Mohamed and most
nights they would bring each other to blissful orgasm.

Then one day he got a call from Djalil to say that the British had approved
Abdul's student visa and his father had sent the money for the fare.  So
Abdul would be going to London, after nearly a year in Addis.  He was
totally torn.  He was desperate to go to London to see what the West had to
offer, but he also adored his Uncle Mohamed.

That night, Mohamed said Abdul had to go, not just for his own good, but
also because Abdul's father had found him a wife, and as the youngest
brother and unmarried, he had to obey Abdul's father, the head of the
family.  He would no longer be able to sleep with Abdul in any event, once
he was married.  But that night he would give Abdul something he would
never forget.

Abdul lay with Mohamed early that night, with a mix of sadness, expectation
and fear.  But soon Mohamed was kissing him all over, making him tingle
with desire. He had rarely been so hard, but this time Mohamed ignored his
cock.  Instead, he turned Abdul onto his stomach on the cushions and
shocked him by licking up his legs, forcing them apart, and digging his
tongue deep into Abdul's arse.  Abdul gasped with pleasure and opened his
legs as far as he could.  His Uncle dove deeper, nibbling his arse lips,
kneading his arse cheeks, sending Abdul into delirium.  Mohamed came up for
air and Abdul felt the smell of sandalwood and patchouli as his Uncle
massaged his arse with fragrant oil. Mohamed's hands worked their slippery
way down Abdul's crack, into it, first one finger, then two, opening him up
gently, probing his arse.  Abdul had never felt so good.  Mohamed then
pulled out his fingers and slowly eased his engorged cock into Abdul.  The
initial pain soon wore off, and once he could feel Mohamed's cock-hair on
his arse, he knew he was all in and he began to buck against him.  Mohamed
pulled out slowly and eased himself back in.  He did this a few times,
gradually picking up speed.  He rested on Abdul's back, licking his ears,
kissing his cheeks, gently pulling in and out.  Abdul wanted more. He
begged Mohamed to go harder, deeper.

Mohamed started to pile drive into Abdul, slapping against his arse, pining
him to the cushions, biting his shoulder, and murmuring "I love you, Habibi
(darling), I love you."  Abdul had never experienced such ecstasy, and as
his hard cock was rubbing against the cushions, he came in gushes long
before Mohamed finally unloaded in Abdul's hot arse.  Abdul knew then that
he wanted more of this - as much as he could get.  He had read that some
Englishmen liked this type of sex too, and he was determined to find them,
or at least one of them, in London.

Part 2 - immigration problems

Abdul had no problems getting into London.  His cousin Djalil had indeed
arranged everything, so Abdul had a language school lined up and he could
stay with his cousin.  Djalil had a tiny flat in south London, where lots
of other immigrants lived. Abdul slept on the sofa, and Djalil made sure
that nothing bad would happen to him.  Much too sure - Djalil almost never
let Abdul out of his sight and was always trying to find him a girlfriend.
Djalil had gone along with his schemes, and even had a steady girl for
about a year, although he never more than kissed her cheek.

All the time he was thinking about where he could meet an Englishman to
replace his Uncle Mohamed.  He was sure that sometimes men were looking at
him with more than just curiosity, but he was always too shy to find out,
and Englishmen were just so inscrutable.  You never could tell what they
wanted.  His cousin told him people were very polite, and when they asked
how you were, or invited you to tea, that didn't mean anything.  It was a
funny English way of saying hello.

Once in summer he had passed a bar with a rainbow flag outside, and several
men looked at him as if they were really interested, but he didn't dare go
in.  He didn't drink alcohol as a good Muslim, so what would he do there?
He spent his first four years in London like that, looking and longing, and
wanking whenever Djalil was out, thinking about the men around him.

Then one day while he was at home there was a knock on the door and it was
an official from the immigration service looking for Djalil.  It seems his
visa had run out some time ago and he had never renewed it.  Abdul was very
careful to renew his, but Djalil always said nobody in London cared about
these things.

Abdul was now 24 and started to panic.  Djalil had gone over to his
girlfriend's house, and Abdul knew he would be there for at least a couple
of hours.  Djalil always boasted that he had sex with her for at least an
hour, and then she would cook them a meal.

He asked what would happen to Djalil and the officer, a white guy who
seemed to be in his early forties said that he could be arrested and even
deported.  That would be a disaster for Abdul, as Djalil rented the flat
and Abdul didn't have a job.  London was nothing if not expensive, and
Djalil had supported him all the time he was there, with a little extra
money sent by his Dad now and then.

The officer, who called himself Mick, said he would wait until Djalil
returned, if Abdul didn't mind. Abdul asked if there was anything he could
do to help Djalil, but Mick just laughed.

"Nice place you got here.  Small but comfy." Mick said. "But its very hot
too, do you mind if I take my jacket off?"

Abdul told him to make himself comfortable and made him some tea.  There
was only one sofa, so they sat together, and Abdul didn't know what to
say. He suggested they put on the TV, and Mick said that was fine.  The
light was beginning to fade outside, so Abdul drew the curtains and
switched on the TV.

Djalil had been watching a video when it was last on, and so the TV went
straight into video mode.  Abdul was mortified - Djalil had been watching a
porn video, a bisexual video.  Abdul went to switch it over to the TV, but
Mick laughed and told him to leave it on.

The video showed this guy with just a towel on massaging a naked woman.
His hand stroked her thighs and with each stroke his hand got closer to her
cunt, until eventually he was rubbing that and she was moaning.  Another
bloke came into the massage room and began on the other leg and soon the
two men, now both naked, were rubbing her and kissing each other.

This was clearly turning Mick on.  He adjusted his trousers and began to
rub his hardening cock.  The video started to have an effect on Abdul too,
despite his mortifying shame.  How could Djalil have been so careless?

Mick looked at Abdul in the room, now dark but for the flickering light
from the video, where one of the guys was now fucking the other, while the
woman was giving him a blowjob.

"You really want to help your cousin?"

"Yes," said Abdul, "I'd do anything to help him out of this mess."

"OK", said Mick, " you be nice to me and I'll be nice to your cousin."
With that, he took out a thick, 8-inch cock, and began to stroke himself.
"You've got a very fuckable arse.  You let me fuck you when I want, and
Djalil won't hear another peep from us."

Abdul reflected for a minute.  He owed Djalil everything.  This Mick was
overweight, and ugly, but if Abdul kept his eyes shut and thought of his
Uncle Mohamed, he could just about do it.  He stood up and dropped his
trousers and pants, and went to the kitchen and got some cooking oil.  He'd
never heard of lube or KY then.

Mick stood up and got undressed.  He had a big hairy belly and chest, but
low slung balls and a big cock, bigger than Mohamed's.  Abdul bent over the
end of the sofa, with his bum in the air, and Mick smeared some oil over it
with his stubby finger.

"Nice", he said, "very nice".  He began to finger-fuck Abdul who, despite
himself, began to get turned on.  He was watching the video and now one of
the men was fucking the girl, while she was rimming the man.  Mick thrust
his big dick into Abdul who yelped in pain.  Mick laughed and said, "You'll
get used to it, boy.  Just relax and open up to Daddy".

Abdul breathed deeply and tried to think of Mohamed, but it wasn't the
same. Nature came to the rescue and soon his primal urges took over.  Mick
really filled him and glided over his prostate each time he thrust forward.
Abdul began to groan, this time with pleasure.

"Yeah, kid, you'll like big Daddy Mick.  You won't get this from many men
round here."

He picked up speed and slammed into Abdul, his eyes glued to the video
where the men were taking turns to fuck the woman.  As the second one
pulled out and came on her, Abdul could feel Mick swell in him and cum in
four or five jerks.  Mick pulled out and wiped his cock on Abdul's T-shirt.

"Something to remember me by, kid" he smirked.

Abdul felt soiled, but also aroused, and ashamed, and relieved that it was
over, but half wanting more.

"Here's my number, kid.  Ring me next week when your cousin's out and I'll
treat you to another round".

With that, Mick put on his uniform and left the flat.  Abdul simply had to
have a quick wank before Djalil returned, clenching his sphincter, feeling
Mick's cum dribbling out, hating the thought of the next time, but also
wanting it.

This "affair" with Mick went on for at least a year.  Each time he brought
round a bisex video and after a certain point, usually when one of the guys
was fucking the other, he took off his clothes, got Abdul to strip, and
then fucked him.  The only good thing was that Mick brought lube with him
and so Abdul didn't have to answer any embarrassing questions from Djalil
about why they used up so much cooking oil.

When I asked him why he never told his cousin Djalil about this, Abdul said
he didn't dare to.  He probably wouldn't believe him, and if he did, he
might kill Mick for abusing the family honour, and that would be even
worse.  Besides, although he didn't like Mick very much, after a while he
even quite enjoyed getting fucked regularly by a thick cock.

"So how did it stop?" I asked him.

Well one day Djalil had a row with his girlfriend and she threw him out.
He got back early to the flat and, not wanting to disturb Abdul, he quietly
let himself in and saw Mick fucking Abdul while the video was playing. He
quietly let himself out again, and waited outside until Mick left.  He then
came back in a towering rage, called Abdul every insult possible and
started to beat him up.  Abdul tried to explain, but Djalil wouldn't
listen.  The next day he threw Abdul out. He knew he couldn't go to Mick,
as he was married and had a couple of kids.  So he went to the Somali
social club where had got to know some people and one put him up for a
while. He hadn't seen Djalil again since that day.

Eventually he found small jobs in the black, filling supermarket shelves,
helping a removal firm, working on building sites, until he could afford
his small room in south London.

He had never had another sexual relationship after Mick, although he had
discovered that in the park near his room men went at night and had sex in
the bushes, and a few times he's let himself be sucked off there.  Each
time he felt depressed and would stay away for weeks, but then the urge
would be greater than he could bear, and he went back for more.  And then
he had seen me and dared to hope that this time his English prince had
finally come.

I giggled at his romantic schmaltz, and my feelings for him grew in
intensity.  I kissed him passionately, our tongues crossing like swords,
breathing his sensuous odour.  I hadn't cum when he'd fucked me earlier, so
now I was getting very hard and my balls started to churn.  But I didn't
want to rough fuck him.  I wanted him to feel again what he felt with his
Uncle Mohamed.

I turned him onto his stomach and crawled between his legs, pushing them
apart.  He knew what I wanted, and stretched as wide as he could, offering
me the sight of his beautiful black hole.  I licked up his thighs and
brushed my tongue over his hole. He opened his arse lips and tried to grab
my tongue with them, but I wouldn't let him.  I slid it back and forth, up
and down, nibbling his cheeks each time.

He was groaning into the pillow, thrusting his bum into my face each time I
got near his hole.  I plunged in and stuck in my tongue as far as I could,
sucking at the same time, causing him to grunt and moan with bliss.

"Fuck me, Joe, fuck me," he pleaded.

I slid up his back until my cock brushed his hole and rubbed it backwards
and forwards while he bent and thrust his bum up to try to catch it.  I
laughed into his ear, and forced his bum down onto the bed.  Reaching for
the lube, I smeared some on my cock, and more into his hole.  He gasped
with the cold, but still thrust back.  Now I put my cock in, plunging as
deep as I could, and holding myself in him, while my whole body covered
his.

He started to push back against me, forcing me up, and then he lowered
himself onto the bed, so I had to thrust forward to keep inside him.  He
wanted me bad, and I wanted him worse.  So I began a slow, steady fuck,
while he pushed back in rhythm. All the time our upper bodies stayed
joined, my hands gripped his, and I kissed him all over - his ears, his
neck, his hair, his mouth.  God, could there be anything better than this?

My arse slapped his, the lube sticking us together again each time after we
pulled apart. He twisted his bum to get that deep fuck feeling, and I tried
my best to delay cumming and keep him writhing in ecstasy. But then he
clamped down on my cock with his arse and began to milk me. My balls were
burning and my cock was swollen to the limit, so I just couldn't hold back
any more.  I flooded his arse with my cum, and I felt him pumping the
mattress and cumming too. I rolled off him with a sigh, onto my back, and
he turned and climbed onto my front.  He pinned my arms and legs down,
grinding his cummy cock into mine. Looking deep into my eyes, he smiled and
kissed me.

"You're worth every broken bone, Joe."