by Young
When my affectionate palms reached down his loosened robe, he made no attempt to back away. Instead, his masculinity throbbed incessantly against my naked torso while our yearning mouths enveloped in amorous embrace. We frivoled, as if this would be our only opportunity to cavort within the walls of this ‘Forbidden City,’ this metropolis that would soon be his to claim.
Dazzled by this sudden burst of uninhibitedness, I bared my soul to his virility, receiving every part of his otherwise reticent identity. Within the sheikhdom of Sharjah he was the benevolent family man, and I, his scrupulous confidant, an adolescent half his age who rendered to my master’s every need.
As our affection grew in volume, so did his spirit. The gloom that had engulfed him not so long ago was dissipating with each invigorating stroke of my magical hands. I was enveloped within his intoxicating cocoon of unrestrained sensuality when he eased into my kernel with avid intensity. Every fiber of my being rose to receive his fiery potency as he rotated into my core with loving precision. Aflame and adrift in his rugged gentility, I was the lost sheep and he my good shepherd.
It was only a matter of time before our heady kisses and ardent intercourse hurled my master over the unbridled threshold of erotic propensity. Sprays of molten deposits bathed my stealthy passage, paving my inevitable release. Visions of his heaving lustiness spurred me over my precipice. Spurs of aqueous honey coated our torsos with loving contentment as we stayed locked in blissful amorosity, he unwilling to relinquish his palpitating thickness within my warmth, and I reluctant to waiver the jouissance that had claimed both my body and spirit. We laid entwined until passion postulated our yearning ecstasy. Tantalizing our blissful return to carnal immortality.
That night I stayed with His Highness, heedful to his every need. We talked, we laughed, and most significantly, I counseled inconspicuously on integral matters I believe to have affected the ascendancy of his royal lineage.
The Afterglow
I lay against the doctor’s hairy chest when he finally spoke. “You are wise beyond your years, and Allah has blessed you with loving guardians.” He paused before adding, “I wish my wives were more like you.”
“Your wives are blessed to have a kind husband,” I replied.
He let out a vexed sigh. “They do appreciate me… but they want more than that,” he confided.
He lit a cigarette and took a puff. “They and my parents are plaguing me to produce heirs.”
“I’m sure that shouldn’t be a problem,” I responded chirpily and reached to pet his growing stiffness.
“It’s not a problem when I’m with you, P, or other comely men,” he answered buoyantly. “The problem arises when I’m with females.”
I twittered, “Why marry?”
“My parents arranged it. When I didn’t produce an heir with Shahria after our marriage, they found Roya, in hope that a more attractive girl would alter the course of my infertility.”
“In the early days when we met, you had mentioned this to me. I provided a solution and you chuckled at my remark. You found my suggestion amusing. Do you remember?” I expressed cheerily.
The Arab burst out in glee. “I remember you suggesting a stand-in to impregnate my wives.”
“I think it’s a feasible idea. Don’t you,” I tittered. “If the man is similar in height, build and features to your Excellency, your wives wouldn’t know he isn’t you, since the lights will be out during intercourse.”
“Who do you recommend?” he questioned comically.
“Your private secretary,” I opined excitedly. “He’s the perfect person for the job.”
Fahrib chortled in between puffs of his cigarette. This time round, he accorded my deliverance with a hint of consideration.
He declared, before nibbling at my protruding nipples, “For now, we have more serious matters to attend to.”
Chapter Forty-Four
“Norway Of Arabia”
“Sex is emotion in motion.”
Mae West
The Week before the New Year of 2013
Andy’s email
Young, you like to keep me in suspense with your OBSS experiences… but I’m patient and don’t mind waiting to read the rest of your story. After all, I’ve waited all these years to reconnect – a few days’ interlude wouldn’t imperil our relationship. LOL!
The New Year is once again upon us. What are you up to this holiday season? In a couple of days I’ll be off to Tasmania with my rowing buddies. We are competing with the Lindisfarne Rowing Club at their annual event. It’ll be an enjoyable excursion.
Well boy, continue writing your memoirs. I love reading your blogs. They have been bringing back memories I had long forgotten. ☺
My dear chap, stay healthy, be happy and keep your correspondence coming.
Love, hugs and kisses,
Andy
XOXOXO
1968
To The Marina
Señor Triqueros requested that I stay behind while Narnia, Albert and the two Arab princes filed out of the room. The four gave me unseemly glances, as if to imply, ‘Here goes the teacher’s pet.’ I ignored them. Victor closed the door and asked, “How did your evening go with the sheik?”
“Fine,” I replied casually.
He gave me a Cheshire grin.
“You must have done something right. The sheik wants you on board his boat this afternoon.” He paused. “Andy and I will accompany you. Since your chaperone is a rowing enthusiast and I’m versed in the art of sailing, we’ll be handy as a part of Fahrib’s crew.
“Jabril will be joining us too.”
I chirped at his pronouncement. “I know nothing about sailing. Why does the sheik require my presence?”
“I have no idea. You’ll find out when you get there. My job is to deliver you at the appointed hour.
“I don’t think he’ll feed you to the sharks,” my teacher commented jovially. “The helicopter will be here to collect us in an hour. Andy will be ready.”
“Norway of Arabia”
Our helicopter flew towards the picturesque Musandam Dibba Al Hisn, a hidden pene exclave that belonged to Sharjah but was located within the Sultanate of Oman (and which the Omanis referred to as the ‘Norway of Arabia’). I was awed by the imposing mountains and the rugged coastline that surrounded the fertile Gulf of Oman, where colorful marine life swam placidly within this aquamarine sanctuary.
It was of little wonder that Fahrib chose this haven to dock his competitive vessel in readiness for his upcoming Acapulco race. His luxury sailboat was primed and ready for us when we arrived at the marina.
In normal circumstances, Fahrib’s crew would be at the ready to set sail as soon as their commander-in-chief gave them a thumb up. In this instance, the crew members consisted of Jabril, Victor, Andy, me, and a handsome Arabian compadre of the sheik whom I had not met before. When our host introduced him as Tad, he said, “My sailing buddy here is a ‘gift from Allah.’”
The man riposted jestingly. “Are you referring to yourself, Fahrib?” before he gave our captain a fraternal hug. The Arabs laughed at their insider’s joke while we looked on with befuddlement, though I would soon discover that this man was indeed a gift to any who had the opportunity to experience his sexual prowess.
As I stood watching our attractive crew get the boat in motion, a sense of freedom overcame me. Suddenly, it dawned on me why my Master kept coming to the “Norway of Arabia” – not only to get away from his nagging wives, but most importantly, to disappear from the madding crowd and from his public identity.
This narrow entryway that protrudes into the Strait of Hormuz and into the Persian Gulf from the Arabian Peninsula had given rise to a hidden paradise, a place for the unsolicitous to rediscover equilibrium within their harrowed souls. It was a safe haven for the next in line to the throne to set aside what was expected of him and to simply be a man whose carnal desire happens to be for his own sex. In us he’d found valiant camaraderie, a roborant masculinity as
old as ancient Hellenism and as new as contemporary bromance.
We’re Sailing
As soon as we were out of sight of dry land, Tad advocated we strip bare to enhance our seafaring experience. Jabril seconded his motion, followed by our commander-in-chief. We E.R.O.S. recruits had no qualms being naked, and neither did Victor, who was an ex Enlightened Royal Oracle Society member.
As each of us revealed our nakedness, Sharjah’s cover-ups and pretexts seemed to tumble away. I felt liberated from society’s constraints as my last item of clothing was discarded.
The sheik’s playful bon mot with his pal certainly proved true when he revealed all of himself. Tad’s and Fahrib’s imposing looks, combined with their formidable endowments, were impressive to behold. I couldn’t help but steal secret glances at their ‘Allah’s gifts to mankind.’ They were not just majestic in girth but resplendent in length, even when flaccid. Any hot-blooded male or female to witness such plumpness would undoubtedly deem my perception accurate. It was of little wonder our captain’s wives craved their husband’s attention.
Comfortable in our skins, we cruised along the majestic mountains, the sweltering sun beating upon the fjords of Oman. The steamy crew had fuelled my heightened libido as my erection bobbed to the rhythmic motion of the rocking boat. We made no effort to hide our arousal as we worked tirelessly at our assigned chores.
Captain Fahrib had assigned me as an assistant steerage to Tad, the red-hot Arabian helmsman. My job was to help him keep the boat’s wheel in check so wind wouldn’t steer the vessel off course. He said jokingly while studying a map, “Ready about… hard-a-lee?”
I stared at him, befuddled. He laughed at my nautical ignorance.
“What? What did you say?” I queried in all seriousness.
He smiled wryly at my erection before answering, “Don’t be embarrassed by your excitement. We sailors are in tune with nature’s wonders.” He made no effort not to look at my length. He resumed, “Even though we take japes at nautical idioms when sailing in the buff.” He gave me a cursory look.
Up until this juncture, I’d had no idea that the helmsman was an accomplished member of the sheik’s sailing team, bound for the 1968 Summer Olympics, not to mention being a champion polo player and a titlist camel racer.
I gave the man a comely smile before inquiring, “What’s hard-a-lee?”
Instead of responding, he tapped my erection, which bounced uncontrollably. His hardness had grown during our flirtatious intercourse, its bulbaceous size stirring my concupiscence to flutter as his sturdy hand stroked me into a dizzying spell. He pulled me to him, French kissing me passionately. Spellbound by his erotic expertise, I lost all sense of propriety. The feel of his bearded chin and hairy chest spawned my stiffness to drum incessantly against his furry torso.
I had desired this sinewy helmsman from the moment we met. When he gave me the traditional nose-to-nose greeting, he’d stared at me unflinchingly. He had claimed my person with his assertive eyes then; now, thrills of chilling excitement coursed through my body as he cupped and squeezed my buttocks, teasing my tenderness with his manly hands. He inserted his fingers into my opening, claiming my cloven his.
As we continued our alluring foreplay, the boat had drifted into an aquiline cove. It was then that I noticed my beloved Andy observing us by the doorway. My Valet gave me his approval to continue appeasing the beguiling athlete as he stared, mesmerized, at our erotic performance. He, like me, was entranced by Tad’s virility. He was witnessing a reflective manifestation of our intimate moments together in which I had surrendered myself fully to his maleness, as I did now to the helmsman.
My chaperone needed no invitation. He knelt to suckle our thumping palpitations simultaneously as we jabbed into his craving throat. This hallowed ecstasy intensified my hunger for both men. Just then, I felt a pair of hairy arms pinching my bristled nipples from behind. The sheik’s sultry lips caressed my tender neck, seducing me into his web of libidinous captivity. While his jouncing member knocked at my doorway to paradise, I couldn’t help but succumb to this jubilant exultation, when another stimulation seized my searing soul, propelling me into an inferno of pleasurable jouissance.
Jabril’s epicurean tongue rimmed at my anal receptacle before jabbing into my tunnel of love with abandon. His commanding lividity drove my tilting pelvis to receive slivers of his dripping saliva. He was preparing me for the feast of the gods. And I was delighted to suffice.
Much like my Valet relishing the helmsman’s mightiness, Victor devoured the captain’s prowess with avid ferocity. Spittle of beaming wetness coated their organs.
Tad led me above deck while the men followed suit. Pulling me atop a comfortable mattress, I straddled the athlete with aplomb, kissing his succulent mouth with wanton fervency. Quivers of euphoric rhapsody surged through my body when his tumid avidity eased into my passageway of forbidden love. His bouncing gyrations commingled with my lustful kisses brought our hankering spirits into a unified entity. Just as this newfound vivacity took hold, I felt another force in my core. This elevated double entry catapulted me into an uncharted and blissful realm.
The captain and the champion tantalized my tightness with symmetrical cadences as we tangoed to the rhythm of the lapping waves. Tad’s provocative expertise, coalescing with Fahrib’s rousing mastery, hurled my frenzied soul to an intensified crescendo of erotic gratification.
Rainbows of aesthetic enthusiasm flashed before me as Andy and Victor mirrored one another as the Levantine logerez himself onto their throbbing hardness simultaneously. He was at once in agony and ecstasy before his misshapen expression transformed into gleeful entrancement. Heaving sighs of euphoric relief, he accommodated both obelisks with pride.
It was within this circle of debauchery, we effectuated our erotic dance, answering only to the call of the wild. When our prurient desires took hold, we exchanged partners until we had our fill of proliferated succor.
As I rode their ferocities with tumultuous savagery, fanatical flashes of electrifying potencies crashed within me, launching my deliverance over and above my partner’s head. The smashing waves of their burgeoning cogency coated my inner walls, stuffing my core to overflowing capacity.
Before I could attain equilibrium, their un-relinquishing appetites had triggered another round of firing deposits - Tad’s unrelenting kisses brought on my second cumming while their stiffness continued to rock me into oblivion. Squirts of their molten love burst into the hub of my fervent mortality as I surrendered to this heavenly joyance with blissful contentment.
While the helmsman and the captain took turns lapping up the brimming remnants they had lodged within my willing burrow, I swathed their leaking appendages with ardent gusto before sharing our fill in a three-way kiss.
When I finally looked over at our adjoining trio, they too were apportioning their feed, as we had a moment ago.
At last, we plunged into the cooling aqua, cleansing all traces of our man-to-man love before heading back whence we came.
Chapter Forty-Five
We Are Here To Serve, Not to Fall In Love
“Falling in love
Is the best way to kill your heart
Because it’s not yours anymore.
It’s laid in a coffin,
Waiting for cremation.”
Ville Valo
New Year’s Eve 2012
Continuation of my Message to Andy (part 4)
Wishing you a Happy New Year, lover-boy. You are still your flirtatious, charismatic self, you charmer. I may just fall back in love with you after all these years. LOL!
Upon your return from your rowing competition, you’ll get to read the rest of my OBSS experiences. Anyone but you, a seasoned man in such racy matters, would be scandalized. ☺
At OBSS
I didn’t have long to wait before “twinky” Kim confided his secrets to me. Out of earshot from the group, during lunch, he announced excitedly, “We did it!”
“We did what
?” I asked.
He glanced towards Jules, who was chatting animatedly with a couple of the other instructors. “You know. Me and him. We did it.”
I smiled but said nothing. Kim had a gleeful grin as he uttered, “Last night in the woods.”
“What exactly did you do?”
He cast his eyes down shyly. “We made out.”
“And?”
“It was great!” he exclaimed.
“Tell all, you naughty devil,” I remarked.
Like most first-timers, he was eager to relate his sexual encounter to a pair of sympathetic ears.
“After the biking accident, after you guys rode on for help, he made the move.”
“Well? What happened” I queried.
“When he was blotting the blood from my knee, he placed his hand on my thigh. I did not move away. I dared not look him in the eye, but I enjoyed the smouldering sensation of his hand, which slowly eased into my underwear.” He paused for effect. “I was afraid, so I kept my eyes shut. I had Goosebumps all over when he held my… You know…” The boy couldn’t bring himself to say the word penis.
“No, I don’t know,” I teased. “What?”
“Down there…” he looked at his groin, which had grown while reliving the circumstance.
I reached under the table to taunt his hardness. He squealed, causing a few team members at the next table to glance in our direction. Kim’s face went red. He quickly stared at his plate as if nothing unusual had happened.
I seized the opportunity to stroke his covered erection again. This prompted his lower body to squirm uncontrollably while he shrieked for me to stop. I continued joshing the boy (I found his mortification amusing). His silly screeching and fidgeting created such a ruckus that all eyes were on us now. Jules was standing in front of us, and before Kim could find composure, he said, “Stop behaving like silly children. Grow up or I’ll send the two of you to detention.”