Date: Tue, 17 Jan 2006 09:39:57 -0500
From: Jay Stick <joystick56@hotmail.com>
Subject: "The Three Day Pass chapter #14

This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the
usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken
with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your
obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may
inspire new work, please feel free to contact me - all E-mails will be
answered to the best of my ability.  <Joystick56@hotmail.com>

I would like to thank all of you that wrote and told me how much you like
the story. Keep the letters coming and send in a donation to the site you
are reading this on.

The Three Day Pass Chapter #14
By: JoyStick

"That was my driver, he has just crossed the George Washington Bridge."
Fazzi said as he put down the telephone, "We still have time, but I think
it would be nice if we were there to greet Worthington when he arrives. We
will take your car Yussef, and since I know where the cafe is, I will
drive. Wait for me in the hall, I want to say good night to Mary before we
leave."

Fazzi found both his wife and Kassie in the kitchen and told them that they
were about to leave the house, and not to wait up, as they would be very
late. The women came out into the hallway to say good-bye to Joseph.

"Don't wait up for us. Your father has a big evening planned and I just
might have to return to base right away." Joseph said after kissing Kassie
and saying good night to her mother. As they left the house Joseph handed
Fazzi the keys and they got in, and drove off.

As they left the estate, Fazzi turned to Joseph and said, "You look very
handsome tonight Yussef. I am tempted to forget about this meeting and find
a hotel or motel and just spend the evening making love to you."

Joseph placed his hand on Fazzi's leg and playfully ran his fingers up and
down the older man's thigh. Then he leaned over, nuzzled Fazzi's ear and
whispered, "Business first, my hot blooded Arab lover. Perhaps later I will
have a long, hard, hot treat for you to enjoy." Then running his hand to
Fazzi's groin, his fingers caressed the Arab's hardening penis.

"OHHHHHHHHH, Stop!  You are such a naughty boy tonight! You will cause me
to crash us up if you keep that up," the astonished Arab said as he tried
to keep the car from swerving off the road. "Yussef, I can not believe
this. Are you telling me that you are beginning to enjoy our 'playtime'?"

"Don't you want it to be true?" he asked withdrawing his hand from Fazzi's
crotch, "or were you just playing with me, leading me on? Was I to be just
another one of your numerous conquests, and then you would throw me over
for someone else? Was that all that our 'playtime', as you call it, meant
to you????"

" NO! NO!  It was not like that at all!" the Arab said as he pulled the car
out of traffic and onto the shoulder of the road. Turning to Joseph he
reached out for him and took him into his arms and kissed him. "Please do
not ever even think that," he said breaking the kiss. "I want you to know
that I loved you from the first time I set eyes upon you. Yes, I have to
confess that for a very short time it was all about sex. I looked at you
and saw a vision of Paradise. Your virgin, blond, handsome naked body,
covered in different colored silky veils spread out before me. My fingers
wanted to reach out and remove one veil at a time revealing your body to
me. That was all I wanted, just your body, nothing else. As Allah is my
witness, I admit it. Then something changed. Without your doing anything,
you made me want to expose my true self to you. It was weird and strange to
me. I found myself forced to look upon you in a different way. I still
wanted you! However, now I wanted your soul first and then your body. This
kind of want was something new to me. I had always wanted the bodies of my
lovers, never even thought of their wants, or their feelings. It was then
that I decided that I had to have you and would do whatever I had to do to
get you." Fazzi said as the tears now streamed down his cheeks. "I just
never dared to even dream you would want me, not me, with this old used up
body of mine."

Reaching into the glove compartment of the car, Joseph pulled out some
tissues and wiped Fazzi's tears away and said, "Here, dry your eyes, it
would not look good if Worthington were to see you all red eyed. You and I
have work to do tonight.  We can talk about this later. Perhaps after the
meeting if we have time. We can relax and let our feelings come out into
the open. Dry your eyes now," he said, kissing his eyes and lips, "and
let's get to that meeting. I'm getting hungry."

Fazzi got himself together and shifted the car into drive and they
continued on to the cafe. They arrived, parked, got out of the car and gave
the keys to the parking valet. Standing there Fazzi heard his cell phone
ring. He answered and said into the phone, "Excellent timing, we have just
arrived ourselves. We will be waiting outside." Then he said to Joseph,
"The car will be here in a minute or two. Please, you greet him and make
the introductions. Do I look all right? I am so nervous."

"You look wonderful, relax 'habibi'. Richard is a regular guy, you will
like him and I'm sure he will like you." Joseph said, just as the limo
pulled up to the curb. The driver got out and opened the door for
Worthington.

Richard senior got out of the car and Joseph extended his hand to him and
after exchanging greetings he introduced him to Fazzi. "I am pleased to
meet you at last Mr.  Muhammad, Yussef, as you call him has told me a lot
of nice things about you."

"He has always spoken most highly of you, too." Fazzi said. "Please, call
me Fazzi. When people call me 'Mr.' I think they are talking to my
father. Was the ride comfortable?"

"Most comfortable and your driver was excellent." Richard said taking
Fazzi's extended hand and shaking it, "and please, call me Richard."

With Fazzi leading the way, they passed a doorman dressed in flowing robes
and a turban, who had opened an ornately decorated heavy door for them. As
they passed by him he bowed and touched his fingers to his heart, lips and
forehead and wished them 'Marhaba, Mesaa El Kair', Hello, Good evening
gentlemen, welcome to the 'Cafe Casablanca'."

As soon as they were inside, they were greeted by the owner of the
establishment, Mr. Amoz, who in formal Arabic bowed and said, "Ahaaaaa,
Sheikh Muhammad, welcome to my humble establishment. It is so nice to see
you again, my lord. It has been too long since we have had the honor of
serving you. May I assist you with your coats?" After checking their coats,
the owner directed them to a low table surrounded by comfortable high
cushions and saw to their comfort and seating.

"Who is going to dance tonight?" Fazzi asked the host in Arabic.

"Dina, a young and most talented dancer from Egypt." The owner said.

"I think I have heard of her. She is one of the best. Do you also have a
male dancer tonight?"

"We usually do have a male dancer, however tonight, he is sick and can not
perform. I'm sure that Dina will more than entertain your party tonight. I
will see to it that she dances for your table above all others."

"That is most unfortunate indeed I so looked forward to proving to my
friends that there was such a thing as a male belly dancer.' Fazzi said,
then turning to Richard, he apologized for using Arabic, "I'm sorry but the
owner's English is.... is...  is...Yussef what is the word...?"

"Limited?"

"Yes. Limited." The Arab said turning to the owner, he asked, "What do you
recommend that we eat this evening? These two gentlemen are very important
friends and businessmen that I am trying to impress."

"Sheikh, for you and your friends, only the best will do, and you shall
have it. May I suggest our shish-ka-bob? It is made with lamb that has been
marinated for 12 hours then impaled on metal swords with fresh vegetables
and roasted to perfection and served over steaming couscous. However,
everything else on the menu is also excellent and I will personally make
sure the cook treats your order with the utmost respect and care." The
owner assured them. He then signaled a waiter to bring the menu.  "This
young man, Amir, will be your waiter. His English is much better than mine,
and he will see to your order. Have a pleasant evening and if you need me-I
will be available. Just feel free to call on me." Then in heavily accented
English he turned toward Joseph and Richard and said, "I hope you enjoy the
evening and that I will have the pleasure and opportunity to see and serve
you gentlemen again and often. When you do come in again, please remind me
that you are friends of Mr. Muhammad and I will consider it an honor to
personally see to your comfort."

"Thank you. And we will be sure to remind you." They both said.

The waiter came over and recited a long list of specials. When asked about
certain dishes he responded that they were all very good and any would
please your pallets, however his personal recommendation was the
shish-ka-bob. The chef is a Bedouin and no one cooks ka-bobs like a
Bedouin.

The three of them agreed on the Ka-bobs and in short order a meal fit for
kings was set before them. In addition there were several different types
of wines offered and served.

"It appears that wine is one of those 'concessions' to Western culture that
the owner of this place has made." Fazzi said, "Another is that there is no
smoking permitted here. In the 'Old Country', in most eating
establishments, liqueur would not be openly offered, however, there would
be a communal Hooker pipe placed in the center of the table. Most likely
there would be some high quality hashish in the bowl. Some of my people
prefer that mild drug to wine, but I would rather have a drink."

Joseph and Richard both commenting on the quality of the food and agreed
that the wine really enhanced the meal and could not see where a drug and
the smoke would add anything to its flavor.


"I can't think of anything that would improve this evening more."
Worthington said. "A Water pipe, might add a bit of 'local color' and
atmosphere, but the food, the ambiance and the company are entirely
sufficient. Fazzi, I don't recall when I have spent a more delightful
evening."

"Now, Richard, there I would have to disagree with you." Fazzi said. "There
are two additional things that come to mind, and here comes one of them
now." The waiter approached the table and with much 'showmanship' poured
hot steaming, black Turkish coffee into small glasses set in silver holders
from an old highly ornate silver coffee pot. "That pot is called a 'Fin
Jon'. You will find one like it, well maybe not as fancy, in almost every
Arab household that I know. No true Arab would drink anything else but
Turkish coffee. I suggest you at least try this. I'm sure that here you
could request decaf or 'filter' coffee if you prefer. However, in the
future if you are to deal with us Arabs, you will find that deals are made
and sealed over a Fin Jon."

They both opted to try the 'Turkish Coffee' and were not disappointed as it
added the crowning touch to the meal. "Sip it slowly," Fazzi directed. They
drank the hot sweet coffee and munched on sweet Baklava as they sank back
into the soft cushions and enjoyed the coffee and conversation.

Fazzi asked Worthington questions about investing and how Wall Street
really works and Richard gave him his number one sales pitch along with
telling him stories of some of the more bizarre things that happened on the
street. Along with being charming, Richard was able to get Fazzi to relax
and to laugh at some of his stories. Soon the two men became fast
friends. With Joseph translating some words and phrases now and then the
three men really got to enjoy each other's company. Richard inquired about
how much Fazzi and his friends were prepared to invest. Fazzi mentioned
that for a start--- perhaps half to three quarters of a million.  He was
hoping to attract some oilmen to come into the investment club with him. He
told him that most of the profits made would be donated to Cultural,
Educational and Medical facilities in the Middle East as well as to several
Arab institutions here in the United States.

"Ahhhh, so, am I right in assuming that you want this "Club" handled like a
Charity?" he asked.  "Something along the lines of a 'Catholic Charities'
type of operation."

"Yes, something similar to that is what I had in mind." Fazzi said. "You
see most of my friends and I have made it 'big' in America and we feel the
need to give some of it back as well as send some help back to our families
and friends in the old countries where they have not been so fortunate as
we have been. And let us face it, we Muslims could use some 'good will' and
good press."

"We could set it up like that and also get you a nice tax write-off."
Richard said. "I don't see a problem. We could set it up something like the
Jews and Salvation Army have set up the united type funds they
have. However it would have to be very carefully monitored as I'm sure the
government is going to ask a lot of questions."

"Yes, I'm sure they will and we would welcome their investigations. We have
nothing to hide. Just so long as we are allowed the same considerations as
the other charities. We would want all kinds of checks and balances in
place. We would have a group of respected community people to serve as
board members, headed by myself, to see that it was... kept honest and on
the up and up. Yussef, what is that word that I'm looking for?? That Jew
word..."

"Do you mean 'kosher'?' He offered.

"Yes that's it." Fazzi laughed and the three of them joined in his
joke. "It must be 'kosher', but in an Arab way."

Well as long as it is 'kosher' I can see no reason why we can not arrange
something."  Richard said and added; "as long as it is going to be for
charity I think I can assure you that I myself will lower my fee for
handling this for you, by say, oh, a few percentage points. After all why
should you be the only ones to get a tax write-off?"

"Richard, my friend, you are in business to make money." Fazzi said, "I do
not see the need for your giving us a discount.  Like our friend Yussef
told my committee the other evening when he met with them, 'you should
expect to pay a lot of money to make money' and we do expect to pay you top
dollar for your advise and help."

"Yussef said that!  Well I guess I trained him well. One thing is for sure
you get what you pay for on Wall Street. And you will pay, but I will see
to it that we will all make a lot of money on this. I want your business
and I also want the good will of the Arab/American community," Richard
said, "and after that I hope to become the funnel though which many
millions if not billions of dollars flow. So you see it is not a matter of
charity for me, but cold pure profit."

The lights in the room lowered and Fazzi leaned forward and said,
"Gentleman, we have had our food and coffee and did a little business, now
for the piece 'de resistance', the entertainment. The room turned dark and
suddenly the most intoxicating music was heard and a small spotlight lit up
a small area where the stage curtains came together. Snake-like a woman's
hand appeared with little finger cymbals clinking in time to the music. The
arm moved, like a cobra, twisting and turning, in time to beat of the
music.  The arm was followed by a perfect female body clothed from head to
foot in different colored silk sheer material that you could almost see
through.  Both the men and the few women in the place gasped at the sensual
body dancing before them. Her headdress was composed of gold coins and gold
chains extending down to cover her neck and rest on her shoulders. It acted
as pointers to her magnificent breasts. Those breasts were encased in two
golden cups that pushed them up and forward. They appeared to move
independent of each other, yet were completely controlled by the dancer's
body movements. Her dark hair framed a beautiful face with ruby red lips,
all this set in flawless olive skin and covered with a transparent thin
silk face covering that only directed your eyes to two pools of water that
served as her eyes. The music was intoxicating, and she made full use of it
to imprison your soul as she flowed like a river around the room as one
silk veil after another artfully fell from her body. Her body movements
created a sexual fantasy that had the audience on their feet clapping and
whistling and screaming for more. Yet, while she hinted, and left little to
the imagination she never exposed herself or anything vital. Many of the
men tried to insert dollar bills into the waist belt of her costume, but
they soon learned that this was not the thing to do as she artfully avoided
contact. After a while she danced her way to Fazzi's table and after
wiggling her hips and making flirtatious and beguiling belly movements she
asked him if he would like to join her on the stage and dance with her.
Fazzi declined but instead offered Joseph to her as a dancing partner.
Delighted to have the slim good-looking younger man instead of the older
man, she took his hand, assisted him to his feet, and directed him to the
stage. Feeling his reluctance, she whispered to him, "Don't worry, you will
just have to stand there while I dance around you. Just don't move till I
tell you." She maneuvered him under a hook hanging from the ceiling and
taking one of her silk scarves she quickly and loosely tied his wrists
together and raised his hands to the hook making it appear like he was
hanging there. She danced around him like he was her captive. She made it
appear that she was torturing him with her sexual charms. She rubbed her
body against Joseph's squirming form, bringing hoots and hollers from the
audience. She ended up swaying her body before him and moving to press her
gyrating ass against his cock and she whispered, "bring your arms down
around me---NOW!" Joseph lowed his arms encasing her body. The lights went
out as she slipped out from his arms and the lights came back on with her
standing beside him bowing to a cheering audience and telling him to take a
bow also.

She returned him to the table and thanked him for helping her.  Fazzi then
asked her to join them for a drink after she had freshened up.  She said
she would be pleased to, but only for a short while. She then left to
return backstage and walked through the cheering crowd to the rear of the
cafe.

"You did very well my friend," Fazzi said with Richard agreeing.  "There
was not a man here that did not envy you."

"It was rather fun and someday I might want to learn to dance like that."
Joseph said. "She is really something. Do all Arab women know how to dance
like that?"

"Some Arab fathers insist that their daughters learn to dance like that,
just like American fathers have been know to insist their daughters learn
ballet or the tap dance." Fazzi informed them. "It is not only a matter of
culture, but some of us feel that dancing like that adds to the bridal
price value of the girl. Others just get pleasure watching their daughters
perform. Perhaps you Americans will misunderstand this part of our
culture. I think this is because of your puritanical upbringing. My own
daughter has taken such lessons and while not as good as Dina, she could
give a respectable performance."

After Dina had washed and changed to her street clothes she joined them for
a few drinks and friendly conversation. The men joked about the way Joseph
had looked so scared on stage. "He was excellent," she protested while
smiling at him, "sometimes a man will try to grab me and carry me
off. Sometimes they become so aroused that I have to offer them something
to cover themselves with. I have had men try to rip off my clothes on
stage." Looking up and directing their attention to a bull of a man
standing near the exit, she said, "you see that big man over there, the one
with all the mussels? He is my protector. He sees to it that I get home in
one piece. Gentlemen, I thank you for the drinks but I see him telling me
to go now. It was nice to meet all of you. And Yussef, if you ever decide
you would like to join my act, I would be glad to have you as a
regular. Here is my card. Just give me a call. Good night."

After she left Richard said, "It is getting late and I too must be going if
I am to get home tonight. I thank you for a wonderful night and look
forward to your call when you arrange that meeting. Be sure to call as soon
as you can."

"Yes it is getting late and we all should get to bed." Fazzi said as they
all got up and headed to the coatroom. Fazzi took care of the bill and
thanked the owner of the establishment. They got their coats and outside
found their cars were waiting for them. Joseph again said good night to
Mr. Worthington and got into the passenger seat of the BMW. Fazzi, who was
again going to drive, waved good-bye as the limo pulled away and then sat
beside Joseph.

"Well Fazzi, what did you think of him?" Joseph asked as they drove off.

"He is a wonderful man and I think we can do business together. I like him
and I thank you for bringing us together. Do you think it would be helpful
if I invited him and his family to come to meet our community? Just to get
to know us better. What do you think of that idea, habibi?"

Joseph thought a while then said; "I think it would be a wonderful idea,
but, only after he has had an opportunity to conduct that meeting with the
investors. If for some reason something should go wrong-you would not look
like the fool having wasted time and money with no possibility of a
return."

"You, my love, are beginning to think like an Arab," he said reaching over
and placing his hand on the soldier's crotch.

"Is that bad?" Joseph said, placing his hand over Fazzi's and pressing it
into his crotch. "I hope it is not too late for you to come up and have a
night-cap-is it, habibi?"

"Only if you want me to, Yussef. As you know I would not want to force
you. Do you realize that this is the first time, my dear, that you have
asked me without my first putting you on the spot?"

"Yes, my Sheikh," he said as he pressed Fazzi's fingers around his
hardening cock. "I guess the music and the belly dancer just got to me. I
feel so horny now. At first I thought it was something you might have
slipped into my drink or food. But, then, I remembered that on the way
here, in the car, I felt that way."

"Oh, my beloved, just hold onto those thoughts." He stammered as Joseph
cock jerked under his fingers. "We will be home in a few minutes-that is
unless you want to check into a motel!"

"No, my Sheikh, you have me on your white stallion, carry me away to your
desert tent and make love to me, master," he moaned as he reached over and
squeezed Fazzi's crotch and placed his lips on his ear and nibbled on it.

"We will go to your apartment. It is closer and we can be alone there. Too
many of the motels in this area know me and there would be talk," he said
as he removed his fingers from Joseph's crotch. "Now let me get us there in
one piece."

Five minutes later they had parked the car in the garage and Joseph
grabbing Fazzi's hand pulled the Arab up the steps to his apartment. Inside
he locked the door and enfolded the excited, but bewildered man into his
arms and kissed him hotly and passionately. Kissing his lips, his eyes and
his ears. Joseph started to pull the clothes off the panting middle-aged
man. Exposing his chest and devouring the exposed neck and shoulders with
kisses, nibbles and one or two hickeys. Joseph was driving him
frantic. They were soon both undressed, their clothes thrown here and
there. Joseph pulled Fazzi into the darkened bedroom and they rolled onto
the bed together. Rolling over each other, kissing and hugging as their
bodies became entwined seeking satisfaction and release.

"Yussef darling, please, I want to fuck you!" Fazzi almost screamed.

"Fuck me???  No! I can't let you do that, my love. While I may call you,
Sheikh and master, it is me who is to be the dominant one. And if anyone
here is to be fucked, it will be you, lover." He said as he drove his
tongue in and out of Fazzi's ear. "No, first you must submit to my will, as
you claim to submit to Allah's. You will do what I say and when I say it,
is that understood?"

"And if I refuse," he said. "What will you do?"

"But, you will not refuse. You know you want me to dominate you-you have
from the start. Do you know how I know this?"

"No, But I'm sure you will tell me."  The quaking Arab said.

"I may not get every detail right but from what I can guess, your first and
perhaps the only true love you ever had till now, was a high ranking army
officer. He took your virginity and your love. He dominated you and caused
you to do things that you might never have done, except with him. Then he
either had to dump you because he became afraid to be exposed or more
likely was killed in one of those many wars you are always having over
there. Since than every affair and even your marriage has placed you in the
dominating roll. You hated it. You went from one affair to another never
finding satisfaction. Then one Friday you see me. I am in uniform. It
brings back memories of your first love. Since I am not the Arab Sheikh you
really want, you dream up this picture of a white Christian Knight
galloping up and reaching down to lift you onto his white charger.  You
picture me slinging you across the saddle and carrying you away into the
desert sunset. In fact, to fan this illusion you even gave me the modern
version of a white charger, the BMW. You offered me your daughter, in hopes
that I would live with your family, thereby making it possible for you to
see me anytime you want. What you really would like is get both Kassie and
Mary out of your life, making it possible for you and I to live together
with me as your white knight and you as the swooning maiden. You want me to
dominate you-you need it-yet you also want it to appear that you are the
master. How am I doing? Did I get it right?"

Yes, Yussef, for the most part you have gotten it right. Most of what you
say is the truth. I want and need you as my lover and, yes, even as my
master. Tonight when I saw you on the stage, I pictured myself as the
captive hanging there being whipped by both Kassie and Mary. Then you came
charging up on your white horse to rescue me and carry me away." He said,
"but I know that was fantasy and in real life I can not appear to be
subservient to any man. As an Arab man I would loose face. That would be a
sign of weakness and my life as a community leader would be over."

"No one is talking about your 'Public Face' here. You know I can and will
help you keep that illusion. Both you and I are prisoners of our public
lives. Neither of us can afford to expose ourselves: you, because of your
position in this community and me because of the army. What we do in
private has to be kept between the four of us, you, me, Kassie and Mary.
Perhaps in the future we will be able to 'come out'. At that point Kassie
and Mary can either stay or leave, but they must have the freedom to
choose.  Permit them this freedom or I will take Kassie away from you and
you will never see either of us again." He threatened, "do I make myself
clear, lover? It is to be that way or no way. Do you agree, Habibi?"

Joseph was laying it out on the line. He was gambling that what Kassie had
said about her father being hopelessly in love with him was true. Now was
the time to gain the upper hand. It was do or die, shit or get off the pot
time."

To be continued...