Cairo Holiday

Cairo Holiday by Alexander

My father works for a British company doing some building work in Cairo and as I was about to break up from school for the long summer holidays, he invited me out there to join him for a holiday. Apart from it being a part of the world I have always wanted to visit, the mere thought of all those beautiful Arab boys gave me an instant erection!

I am fifteen now, and have known I was gay since about the age of thirteen. I haven't dared tell anyone yet, although one or two close friends at school have probably guessed but thankfully have kept their thoughts to themselves. There is only one boy who is certain that I am gay, as is he - but that is a different story!

Eventually the day arrived that I was due to fly out. As I don't have a mother, the school had arranged that they would take me straight from there to Heathrow Airport in time to catch the afternoon flight to Cairo. Check-in time was about an hour after we arrived, but the driver made it obvious that he didn't particularly want to hang around, and so I said to him that I would be allright now and he could go if he wanted. He wasn't supposed to of course, it was his job to see me into the departure lounge and 'hand me over' to the airline staff. He hesitated for a moment or two before saying that he guessed I would be allright and that he would like to get away and visit some friends. Telling him that I would be fine, and that I wouldn't tell anybody if he didn't, he gratefully rushed off.

This was just what I wanted. I am not a particularly talkative person, and the thought of spending an hour or so with someone I hardly knew and didn't particularly like didn't appeal to me in the slightest. In any case, I wanted to have a look at the magazines in the bookshop, and the sort of books I wanted to look at wouldn't have impressed the driver! Eventually I found the shop on the top floor of the departure building, and walked in, pretending to look at the computer and games mags. whilst scanning the top shelves for the 'Men's' books. Seeing them on the rack in the corner, I sidled across to them and tried to see what they were like. Most of them were wrapped in some sort of plastic, to stop perves like me getting a free look I suppose. Anyway, there was one I noticed which had slipped out of its packet and was laying half open on the shelf. Glancing round to make sure no one was looking, I quickly reached up and grabbed it. Flicking through the pages, I was delighted to see that it was just what I wanted. There were pictures, lots of them, mostly of beautiful young men, all naked, or nearly so. They were older than I would have liked, but then I suppose if they had been any younger, the mag. would have been classified as 'porn' and not allowed on the shelves.

One picture in particular attracted my close attention. It was of an Arab boy of about 20, and he was completely naked. Unfortunately he was posing in such a way as to hide was must have been an enormous cock - I thought that I could just see the tip of it showing over his thigh. This set my mind thinking about the holiday I was embarking on, and whether I would get any 'fun' or not. These thoughts were giving me the usual hard-on, and putting the magazine back on the shelf, I looked round for a toilet so I could relieve myself in the usual manner.

Spotting it in the corner, I then had the problem of reaching it and hiding my obvious erection until I got there. Holding my travel bag in front of me, I must have looked something like a demented ape as I walked, leaning forwards and apparently in pain, towards the toilets.

Having got myself locked in the first open cubicle I found, my trousers and pants quickly ended up on the floor as I sat on the bowl, gratefully grabbed hold of my hot, throbbing boner, and began to give it the attention it had been demanding. Closing my eyes I imagined the boys I would (hopefully) be doing this with in the very near future.

My reverie was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the door to the next cubicle being closed and locked. Idly I opened my eyes and look at the thin wooden wall separating us. It was then that I noticed there were several small holes in it, each about 4 or 5 millimetres in diameter. Still holding on to my cock, I twisted round slightly and put my eye to the nearest hole. Sat on the basin was a young lad of about 12 or 13. The sounds he was making made it obvious he was having a much-needed shit.

Unfortunately, from the hole I was using I could see that his hands were in his groin, but could only see the top of his thigh. Looking around for a better viewing hole, I sank to my knees and looked through a hole which I hoped would give me a better view. Closing one eye, I carefully moved towards it.

The sight which rewarded my move was fantastic! He was playing with his soft prick, gently massaging it. I wasn't sure if he was actually wanking or just enjoying the sensation. Anyway I continued to watch and was delighted to see that his cock rose to the occasion to produce a magnificent 3 inch hardon. Obviously pleased with the results of his efforts, the boy began to toss himself off properly using just his thumb and first finger to work around his cock-head. By now I was almost mad with desire and excitement and also began to wank in earnest.

I must have made a noise of some sort because quite suddenly he turned round, noticed the holes and looked through one directly at me! Not daring to move I knelt there, terrified of what he would do next. As nothing did, I slowly returned to my observation hole and looked through at him. There he was - standing directly across from me and giving a wonderful display of himself! He was obviously fully aware of what he was doing as he was no longer wanking himself off, but actually holding his balls and prick in his cupped hands so I could get a better view.

Seeing him bend forwards and look through the wall, I stood back and did the same to myself, giving him a full frontal view of my engorged prick and almost hairless balls. Unable to contain myself any longer, I also began to toss myself off. Glancing down at the hole I was assured to see that he was still watching, and so I carried on until I came in massive, powerful spurts, all over the wall in front of me!

Feeling a bit drained, I knelt down again and was greeted with the sight of my erstwhile friend sat sideways on the toilet with his legs spread wide apart so I could see all he had and giving himself a serious wank. I stayed watching for a couple of minutes until I was rewarded with the sight of his prick shooting out lots and lots of white spunk. This was too much for me, and also afraid of being discovered I hurriedly got dressed and flushed the toilet.

Leaving the cubicle, I walked across to the hand basins and started to wash my hands. Behind me I was aware of a door opening and then being joined by the boy, who quite deliberately stood at the next basin, although we were the only two people in the room. Glancing round at him I smiled at him and carried on washing.

Returning the smile, he asked me if I was travelling, and where I was going. Replying that I was on the way to Egypt, I dried myself and started to walk towards the exit, not sure if I wanted to continue this conversation with a boy I didn't know, especially in here.

Leaving the toilets, I sauntered across to the flight departure desks and found that my flight had been called and I was supposed to check in. The young lad had followed me across to the desks and was stood behind me as I turned.

"Hello," he said, "My name's Alan. What's yours?"

"Tony," I answered," And I'm on the way to join my father for a holiday. You?"

"Oh, I'm with my parents going to America to see my cousins. It's a pity we aren't going to the same place isn't it"

"Yes it is," I replied sadly, "I think we would have had a good time together. Anyway, thanks for the show - I enjoyed it" I added, grinning at him.

"That's OK, I enjoyed it too. See ya!", and with that ran off to find his family.

Strangely, I felt very nervous and apprehensive, and I suppose more than a little bit frightened. My mind was full of "What if......." questions; what if he's told his parents, what if anyone saw us, what if...... and so on. Thankfully, the plane took off at last and I stopped worrying - at least not quite so much.

Chapter Two

The plane arrived in the late evening and as it circled over Cairo prior to landing I was impressed not only by the huge size of the place but also by the vast dark band of blackness which, snaking its way through the myriad lights, I assumed to be the River Nile. I tried without success to find the Pyramids and had just decided (probably wrongly) that I could see them when the aircraft changed direction and began its descent. In what seemed a very short time, we were down, off the runway and stopped what seemed to be miles away from the terminal.

Once the doors were opened the heat struck me just as if I was staring into an open furnace - I was told that it would be hot there, but I didn't expect the raw, dry heat which hit me. Before I was given chance to adjust to the temperature, and get my night vision working, I was swiftly escorted down the steps by one of the aircrew and onto a waiting bus.

Arriving at the terminal building, the first sight which hit me was that of two heavily armed soldiers, supposedly guarding the building, but they were holding hands! I was to learn later that this is a common Egyptian habit, but to a new visitor to the place, it came as quite a shock - and did nothing for my preconceptions of the country.

Clearing both immigration and customs posed no problems, and I was very relieved to see my father waiting at the barrier for me. Picking up one of my suitcases, and at the same time managing to shake my hand, he told me that he had the car outside, and we would go straight back to the hotel as he expected that as usual I was hungry.

Fortunately, Dad said, we are staying in Heliopolis, which is only about ten minutes drive away. 'Downtown' Cairo is quite a long way away, and driving in this place was nothing if not exciting he continued. Anyway, within a few minutes we pulled up outside what I thought was a fairly non-descript hotel called 'The Beirut'. Once inside however, it seemed to be fairly comfortable.

"It's not the best hotel around, but it is fairly cheap and convenient if you are staying here for a long time, and in any case most of the people who work for our company are staying here - and they pay the bills. I have managed to get you a single room, but it is on the top floor, and the lift doesn't always work!" Father explained. "Give me your passport will you, the hotel have to take it to the Police Station to register your arrival. Don't worry though, you will probably get it back first thing in the morning. Once you have got it back, make sure you look after it as it will be stolen if you give anyone half a chance."

Having got the registration details sorted out, I was handed the room key and a man picked up my bags and walked towards the lift, saying nothing, but grinning happily at me.

"Go on," Father said, "Go up and just drop your cases in the room and then come straight down here. I'll be waiting in the bar across there." he stated, pointing to a tiny little bar just across the foyer.

Having done as I was told, I was back in the bar within about five minutes. Walking into the dimly lit room from the foyer, I was temporarily unable to see anything at all, but as my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I heard my father call me over to join him. He was sat with another couple of men who I assumed worked with him, and, much to my surprise, with a boy of about my own age.

"This is my son, Tony. He's staying here for a few weeks during his school holidays."

"Tony, this is Alan and Roger, they work with me. And this is Michael. He's Alan's son." he continued.

Having shaken hands with the two men, I was ushered into the seat next to Michael.

"Hi ya!", I said. "How long are you here for?"

"I live here - at least for the time being. My father is the Project Manager and all my family are here. We've got a rented house round the corner and I go to the English School in Cairo."

Settling down to the Coke and burger I was offered, I chatted to Michael about what it was like living here and what sort of things there were to do. He explained that it was in fact quite a fun place to live. The school days were short - finishing about 2 o'clock - because of the heat. The only real bind he added, was that as it is a Muslim country, there is no school on Fridays, or on Sundays. There was supposed to be school on Saturdays, but very few bothered to turn up, and no one really seemed to care. With regard to the 'social' side, there were some quite good cinemas around, including a couple of open air ones just down the road. Most of his spare time, I learned, he spent at the Heliopolis Club, which was the only place you could go and have a swim or play games. Most ex-patriates belonged to it as it was a good place for whole families to go.

The more I talked to Michael, the more I liked him. He seemed to be very pleasant and easy going, and also by one or two things he said, appeared to have few inhibitions about what he said.

"Come on," he said eventually, "I've told me all about myself. What about you?"

I explained that as I had no mother, I spent a lot of time in my boarding school, and described it at length to him, including telling him at length about my best friend. Hopefully he would pick up on this later when I could possibly introduce the subject of sex, and try to suss out what his feelings were. I had already registered that during our conversation he hadn't mentioned girls at all, just one or two boy-friends he had made here.

I was just about to tell him about my flight out, when a wicked thought crossed my mind.

"Listen, I'll tell you a story about something that happened to me at Heathrow just before I left. But not just yet," I added, looking meaningfully at the men around us.

Michael picked up the signal, looked at me quizzically, and changed the subject. A little while later, he turned to his father and asked him if it was allright if he and I went for a walk so that he could show me the area.

Agreeing to this, we were told 'not to be too long' and to be careful.

Leaving the hotel, we crossed the road and headed towards what I could see what a huge church built on an island in the middle of the road. Michael told me that it was the Catholic Cathedral, and on a hot night it was a good place to go as it was surrounded by quite large grassy areas and nearby were lots of little hut-type wooden shops where you could buy sweets and drinks etc. Having reached the first of the so-called 'gardens', I was a bit surprised when we walked straight through the first one and crossed the busy road to another similar one.

Sitting down on a stone bench, Michael asked me to tell him what had happened at the Airport. I then related the story to him, but leaving out the bit where I wanked off. I was wishing that he would be interested enough to ask questions about what had happened, and I hoped that I would by then have some idea as to what he thought of wanking off.

Whilst I was telling the tale, I kept glancing down at his groin to see if I was having any effect on him. He was wearing a pair of loose, thin brown shorts, and I was sure that I would see if he was getting a boner on or not. Unfortunately, there was no sign of life down there at all as far as I could see. That is until he asked me what I was thinking about while watching the boy toss himself off. Taking the plunge, I replied that I had got a real hard on looking at him, and told Michael that I had a wank after he had left the cubicle. Looking at closely at Michael as I was telling him this bit, I could see no reaction in his face at all, but I saw his hand move down to his crutch and adjust what I could now see was a bit of a boner he had.

Having adjusted himself, the next question he asked threw even me.

"Do you wank often?" he said casually. "I do - almost every day."

Replying that I did the same, sometimes even twice a day if I was in the mood, I asked him what he thought about when he was doing it.

"The boys around here," he said surprisingly, "They are very good looking and sometimes you can see their prick and balls through the galabeyas they wear, especially if they are thin. I have even seen two of them tossing each other off behind the shed over there," he continued pointing towards a building in the corner of the garden.

Taking another step forwards in trying to suss him out, I asked him what 'the locals' thought of gay sex. He answered that he didn't really know, but he thought that people seemed to be quite laid-back about it as it was apparently fairly common.

"I suppose that being a Muslim country, girls and women aren't easily available, and they are left very much alone when out in the streets. The men and boys however are a different thing. It seems that the boys can do nothing wrong, they are almost idolised by everyone," he continued, "That garden we just walked through is called 'The Christian Garden', because it is near the church and it seems to be the local meeting place for gays, that's why I never stop in there, much as I would like to, I'm afraid of what might happen."

Glancing at his watch, he said that it was about time we got back to the hotel. Reluctantly agreeing with him, we took a slow walk across the road.

"You must come to our house sometime," he said looking directly at me and smiling, "Then you can tell me some stories about what it is like in a boarding school!"

I felt sure that he only wanted to hear one type of 'story', and if that is what he wanted, then I was more than willing to oblige!

On our return to the hotel, the men weren't anywhere near ready to leave, they were obviously in the middle of a dirty joke when we bounced in, and the conversation came to an abrupt halt.

"Why don't you take Michael to your room and get him to help you unpack?" suggested my father.

Digging my room key from my pocket, I asked my new friend if he wanted to help.

"OK,", he said, "Come on then."

Entering my room, I threw the two cases on the bed, undid the locks and threw back the lids. I looked around the room, mentally deciding where to put things when Michael simply picked up an armful of clothes from the nearest case, slid open a dressing table draw and dropped them in.

"This won't take long," he laughed, "You get the rest and put them in there," he added pointing to the large wardrobe against the wall. "Then you can tell me another horny story."

The unpacking was completed in about two minutes flat. After all, I thought, I can straighten them out tomorrow. For now I was much more interested in getting inside his trousers, or at least getting a look at his equipment.

Michael sat on the bed, leaving me with the only chair in the room to sit on.

"Well," I started hesitantly, "There is this boy at my school who is always wanking off ...." and I continued, making most of the story up as I went along. All the time I was talking, I kept watching his groin for any signs of the effect I hoped I was having on him. Luckily, the way he was sat on the bed, he had pulled his shorts tight up into his crutch, and not only could I see an almost perfect outline of his prick and balls, but also a glimpse of his very brief underpants down the leg of his shorts. This inspired me to even greater realms of fantasy as I carried on with my tale.

It wasn't too long before Michael stood up for a second, eased his shorts out of his groin and sat down again, but this time with his feet on the edge of the bed and knees in the air so that I could see right down the inside of his shorts. Trying not to make it obvious, I kept glancing down at them and at last I could see he was getting a hard on - I knew that I was, just by thinking about it. After a few minutes more, Michael interrupted me and said that he must go to the toilet. Moving from the bed towards the bathroom/toilet, he opened the door and went in, leaving it open behind him. Rapidly trying to think of some other story to tell him, I was also aware that there were no noises indicating that he was using the toilet.

"Tony," I heard him call, "Come and look at this"

Walking across to the door, I was astounded to see him standing there, bollock-naked and sporting an enormous boner!

"Now see what you've done", he grinned, "I must do something about it.", and with that began to toss himself off.

"You as well", he added, "I know you want to."

I didn't need asking a second time. Dropping my trousers and pants to the floor, my prick sprang out, proud and erect, and just waiting for the attention it needed.

I moved across to where Michael was standing over the bowl of the toilet and began to toss myself off, just as Michael was doing. His prick, I noticed, was not quite as big as mine, it must have been about 5 inches long, and uncircumcised like me. He also had a mass of blond hairs showing, much more than I did I was embarrassed to note.

We both managed to climax together, and as we pointed our come-dripping tools down the basin, they accidentally touched each other. The effect on me was electric, as if a bolt of lightening had struck me.

"That's fucking better!" Michael said breathlessly, and began to get himself dressed. Disappointedly, I followed his lead and began to put my trousers back on. Going back into the room, I said that it was about time we went to join or fathers.

"OK," Michael agreed," But you must promise to think of some more stories to tell me when we meet tomorrow."

Feeling much more relaxed with him now, I replied that it ought to be his turn to think of something to say. Allright, he agreed, I'll see you tomorrow. And with that we went back to the bar and joined the rest of the group as if nothing had happened.

Later that night, having had a long chat with my father after the others had gone, I went back to my room, and because it was so very hot, stripped off and lay naked on top of the bed.

Musing over the events of the day, I decided that on the whole it hadn't been a bad one! Not only had I seen two boys toss off, I had also had a couple of good wanks out of it and to cap it all, it looked as if I was to have a good few more in the days to come. The last thing I remember before I drifted off to sleep, having had another blissful solo session, was that I couldn't wait to get Michael alone again and hopefully continue from where we left off earlier that evening.

The following day, being Friday was a day off for my father. Having got up and had a shower I went down to the restaurant and joined him.

"Today I'll show you around Heliopolis," he explained. "It's quite a big place, but you shouldn't get lost if you remember where the Church is. In any case, if you do, you only have to find the tram lines and follow them to get back here."

He told me that taxis come in two sorts, the 'local' black and white ones, which are very cheap and cheerful, and the more expensive 'tourist' Mercedes called Limousine Misr.

"If you have to get a taxi, tell them to take you to the Hotel Beirut, and when you get there, ask the man at the desk to pay, otherwise you'll get ripped off." he ended.

For lunch he took me to the Heliopolis Club, which, as Michael had told me, was almost completely ex-patriate as very few Egyptians could afford to join it. Getting a plate of chips and a Coke, we went and sat by the pool idly watching the kids splashing about and having a 'something and nothing' chat. I quickly formed the impression that although he was glad I was here with him, and he wouldn't have it any other way, I was cramping his usual lifestyle somewhat. On the whole, I was neither surprised or disappointed to learn this. I could, in fact, turn it to my advantage in that I would be able to spend a lot of time by myself exploring the city and perhaps having an adventure or two.

Glancing round at the people in the pool, I was suddenly aware of someone waving frantically in my direction. Looking more closely at the distant figure, I realised it was Michael trying to attract my attention. Signalling him to come over and join us, he swam across, climbed out and pulled up a chair.

"Hiya!" he grinned, "How you doing?"

"OK," I replied, "What'cha doing?" I continued, realising as I said it, what a stupid question it was.

"Nothing really. Just having a mess-around. Wanna come in the water?"

Explaining that I didn't have any swimming things with me, I am sure that Michael was about to say something both inappropriate and obscene when he remembered that Dad was there and changed his mind, asking him if he would get me a pair of swimming trunks.

Seeing an escape route, Dad quickly agreed to this and gave me 10 Pounds to go buy some, adding that if I was going to stay here with Michael, he would go and have a drink with his friends in downtown Cairo. "When you've had enough, go back to Michael's house and I'll see you there later", he finally said as he stood up to go.

Michael and I went into the Club House, found the shop and began to look at the swimming trunks.

"How about these?" he asked, showing me a pair that looked more like a G-string than anything else.

"Bollocks!" I said, grinning, "I'm not wearing those, especially if the stories you are going to tell me are any good"

Choosing a more suitable pair of swimming shorts, I asked where I could get changed.

"Over here. Come on, I'll show you" , he said as he grabbed my arm and almost dragged me towards the changing rooms.

Walking into the cool, air-conditioned room, I was pleased to see that it was empty. Surprisingly, I also saw that there were several changing cubicles as well as an open-plan changing area. Michael headed towards the end one, which couldn't bee seen from the entrance, and holding the door open, told me to go in and get changed.

To my amazement (and delight), he followed me in.

"Hope you don't mind, but I was told to look after you, wasn't I," he grinned.

Answering that I didn't mind at all, I added mischievously that perhaps I needed 'looking after'! Taking the hint a lot quicker than I thought he would, Michael quickly grabbed the front of my shirt and undid the buttons, letting it drop to the floor. Looking directly into my face he then felt for the waist band on my shorts, unfastened it, slid the zip down and tugged both my shorts and underpants down in one smooth move. Stepping out of them, I found myself standing about a foot in front of him, and that I was also starting to get an erection. Michael was fully aware of this as he glanced down at it and whistled softly.

"Christ, you're quick!" he whispered, "Can I hold it?"

Having lost the power of speech, I simply nodded agreement.

The feeling was incredible. I was fairly used to having my prick played with by other boys at school, but this was different. Michael had a lovely, soft touch and was obviously enjoying it almost as much as I was.

My cock was now hugely erect, and Michael's hand was slowly moving up and down the shaft, the other hand cupping my balls. I was in great danger of passing out with the pleasure, and moved back slightly so I could lean on the wall.

My new friend, not ready for this move, let go of my prick for a moment. Glancing down at his crutch, I saw that inside his swimming trunks he had an erection to match mine trying to struggle out of its prison.

"Do you wanna take 'em off for me?"

"You bet!" I mouthed, and putting my thumbs inside the waist, slid them down. His boner sprang out instantly, and I could also see some pre-come glistening on the tip of it.

"Talk about me being quick", I smiled, "What about you?"

Not waiting for any answer, I took hold of his tool and began to feel it gently.

Michael moaned with delight and moved towards me, taking hold of my own rigid prick again.

"Do you wanna come?" he asked.

"Too fucking right!", I replied, at the same time beginning to toss him off myself.

His technique was wonderful, he seemed to sense when I was just about to climax and backed off at just at the right time. I also remember thinking that this couldn't have been the first time he had done this.

Very quickly I had several 'dry runs' and painfully I just had to tell him to finish me off before I passed out. This he did, and as if by magic, he erupted at the same time in huge, jet-propelled spurts, which hit me on the chest and ran stickily down to my navel. Both shuddering with the passion, we couldn't help but bump into each other and I was rewarded by an almost full-length contact with him. Involuntarily I put my arms around him and hugged him tight. His response was to give me a soft kiss on the cheek and pull himself away.

"I think we'd better go for a swim and wash this stuff off, don't you?" he whispered. "If we're not too long, we can go back to my house later. My Mother is out for another couple of hours yet"

"Lets go now" I said hurriedly, "Forget the swim."

"Don't be daft. If you go home with your new shorts unused, your Dad will wonder what you've been doing" Michael said, managing to make even that sound erotic.

Reluctantly agreeing with him, we put our shorts on and went out to the pool for quick (I hoped) swim.

The water was perfect, and we must have spent about an hour messing about in it. Michael, I discovered wasn't as good a swimmer as I was, but he was a brilliant diver. Watching him run down the diving board and fly gracefully through the air into the water was a delight. I also took a secret pleasure in knowing that I alone, of all the people round the pool, had had my hand on that bit of his body which his tight trunks showed off to perfection. These thoughts of course gave me yet another erection, and thanking my lucky stars that I this time I was in the water and had bought shorts that didn't let it show, I called to Michael that it was about time we went.

"What's the matter, can't wait?" Michael said teasingly as we entered the changing rooms, and playfully made a grab for my dick. Finding that I had a raging hardon, he quickly let go and added "I'll sort that out just as soon as we get home"

It's about 10 minutes quick walk from the club to his house, and having bought a couple of Cokes on the way we were soon sat in his living room chatting about the club and what other facilities it had to offer. Saying that whatever else it had to give, I would still prefer the swimming, reminded Michael of the real reason we had come back early.

"Come on, I'll show you my room", he said standing up. "Leave your things there and come upstairs.

Following him up the marble-stoned stairs, I was taken into a large, airy room which seemed completely filled by an enormous double bed, decorated as only Egyptian furniture can be in what is jokingly called "Luis Farouk" style, ornately rough-carved wood painted with a bright, hideous, imitation gold paint.

"Now we can get down to some serious work", Michael said, simultaneously stripping off.

Taking my lead from him, my own clothes quickly joined his on the floor, and I lay on the bed taking great pleasure in just looking at his smooth, hairless body, apart from the beautiful bush he displayed.

Michael, having joined me on the bed, turned onto his side so that we were face-to-face.

Reaching down and taking a firm hold of his semi-erect prick, I reminded him that it was his turn to tell me a story.

Thinking for a moment or two, Michael turned onto his back and started at the ceiling. Not sure now what he wanted me to do, I let go of his dick and looked at him.

"Don't let go. It helps me to think!" he said quietly, and picking up my hand placed it back on his prick.

"Most big Egyptian houses have a family of servants who live either in a small house on the roof, or in a disused garage," he started. "Here we've a man called Ahmed who usually drives Dad around, his wife Farida who does our cleaning, and about four kids, three girls and a boy. The boy's called Anwar and's about ten, and is really good looking. Sometimes he comes into the house and does a bit of tidying up when his mother is out shopping.

Anyway, about a month ago, I was laying on the bed without any clothes on and playing with myself, oddly enough imagining what it would be like to have sex with an Egyptian boy. Reluctantly coming to the conclusion that I would never find out, I was just about to toss myself off when he came into the room carrying my clean clothes!

The shock of being interrupted made my erection disappear immediately as you can imagine, and not knowing what else to do, covered my embarrassment with both my hands. The boy hardly reacted at all, he simply looked at me, smiled broadly and carried on putting my clothes away as if nothing had happened. As he turned side-ways on to me, I couldn't help but see that he had given himself at erection. Not as big as mine, I thought, but then he is only ten years old, but it was still big enough to play with - if I had the chance. The boy wandered about the room, very slowly putting things away. I was sure that he was just being bloody-minded, having caught me wanking off, he was taking full advantage of the situation and keeping me feeling embarrassed as long as he could. Eventually of course he finished, but rather than turn and leave the room, he faced me, deliberately circled his hands around his prick and balls and pressed them into his groin. This had the effect of making the erection he had stand out unmistakably. Grinning at me, he moved his hand in front of himself as if having a wank. Not speaking any Arabic, I simply nodded at him, not really knowing what he was getting at. I must have done the right thing as he did no more that to take off the galabeya he was wearing and stand there naked, showing me his beautiful, olive-coloured, circumcised 3" boner! In return I hesitantly removed my hands from my crutch and let him have a good look at me. Slowly he walked across the room, not taking his eyes off my cock for a moment. Standing by the side of my bed, he very slowly and tentatively moved his hand towards my cock, at the same time shifting his gaze and looking directly into my face. Without saying anything, I moved my legs apart and nodded slightly at him, feeling certain that he could read my thoughts and knew that there was nothing else in the world I wanted more at this time.

His hands were small, soft and delicate. I am sure that he could feel the heat and excitement from my body through my erect prick. He gently began to masturbate me, and feeling more comfortable now, reached across and took hold of his tool and began to do the same for him. This continued for what seemed a timeless age, but eventually feeling myself about to come, I placed my hand over his and stopped him. Anwar, taking the hint, let go and took a step sideways moving towards my head. Turning to look at him, I was amazed to see that he was pointing first at his dick and then towards my mouth! His intention was crystal clear, and not having ever sucked a dick before, I wasn't sure that I wanted to give it a try. However, not wanting things to stop now, I moved to the edge of the bed and took his boner in my mouth, wrapping my lips warmly around the shaft and holding his perfectly formed, round buttocks I moved my head up and down the hard, brown boner, at the same time sucking at it as hard as I could. The feeling was incredible! I opened my eyes and watched his groin as I sucked him off, savouring every delicious moment. It wasn't long before I felt his whole body give an enormous shudder and my mouth was full of warm, sweet come - not as much as mine I thought, but not bad for a ten-year old! It came as such a shock that I swallowed the whole lot before I could do anything else, and I backed off coughing and spluttering.

Anwar, almost as surprised as I was, just stood there, his face showing what looked like panic, come still dripping from his now softening penis. Realising that I had to move quite quickly if I was to keep this young Adonis in a co-operative and friendly mood, I turned and sat on the side of the bed with my legs spread apart and my cock pointing directly at Anwar, making the same sort of signs that he had made to me. Getting the idea, he threw me a quick, fleeting smile before kneeling down and taking my tool into his mouth.

I know that I had never been sucked off before, but judging by the way Anwar was treating me, it wasn't the first time for him. Rather than hold my buttocks as I had him, he cupped my balls in his hand and gently squeezed them in time to his sucking. Incredible! Fantastic! I have never, ever, experienced such painful and exquisite pleasure. Looking down at the brown, curly hair of my assailant, I put both my hands on it and gently forced my cock deeper and deeper into his throat. Anwar, moving his lips further down my shaft, sucked even harder. Feeling myself coming, I involuntarily forced my throbbing dick to the back of his throat and shot my load, producing at least 6 spurts of hot, salty come.

Letting go of him, I fell back on the bed, exhausted. Looking round at the boy, I watched as he got dressed, surprised to see that he still had a hard on! Getting up from the bed, I took a pace or two towards him, gave him friendly hug and kissed him on the forehead. His reaction was to grin broadly at me, return the hug, give me a 'thumbs up' sign and slip quickly out of the room."

"Christ, Michael, that's some story. You've almost made me come just by listening to it. It must have been terrific. Have you done it again since?", I asked hoarsely.

There was a moments pause.

"No. It never even happened in the first place, I was making it up as I went along. The only true bit is that he does in fact live here with his family and he is good looking. I suppose I just got carried away and told you what you wanted to hear and I really wish would happen. You would too if you could see him." Michael responded.

Surprisingly, Michael looked as if he was about to cry for some reason. Putting my arm around him, I pulled his head on to my shoulder and asked him what the matter was.

He explained that he had had only a couple of experiences with other boys, and they were nowhere near as exciting or erotic as mine were and he felt that he had to invent something to match mine.

Holding him a bit tighter, I gratefully told him that although my stories were on the whole true, I had embroidered them perhaps more than a bit in some places, but that the one about the airport was completely true.

"Listen," I continued, "I think that whatever either you or I do with anyone else is best kept a secret. And in any case, if ever we do tell someone what you or I have done, I am sure we will exaggerate just as I did. I don't think it matters very much, after all it had the effect you wanted and you gave me the best hardon I've had for ages - I almost came just listening to you!"

Feeling much better now, I could sense Michael relaxing and he began to fondle my cock and balls once again.

Returning the favour, we turned to face each other and for the first time in our short but hectic relationship, began to actually take pleasure in just holding and playing with each other without having the need or desire to jerk each other off as quickly as possible.

Thinking about the story I had just heard, I asked Michael if he had ever had his cock sucked by anyone.

"Yes. Once. It was a year or so ago when Dad and I were living in Maadi, a town just the other side of Cairo. There was this boy I was friendly with at school and one day we came home early from school and there was no one at home. We had never actually had any sex games, but we used to play-fight a lot, and we both knew that we got hard-ons when we did this. On this particular day, we were messing about on the floor, and he got me on my back. He laid on top of me, with his crutch in my face, and his in mine. I knew he could feel my boner as he was rubbing it with his face. I could feel that he was undoing the zip on my trousers, and to be honest, I didn't complain as it meant that I was sure to get a look at his sooner or later. Once the zip was down, he put his hand inside and worked my prick free through my pants. I thought that he would just look at it, or even perhaps hold it, but I almost fainted when I felt his tongue and mouth around it. He had just begun to suck it when we both heard the front door open. Jumping up like startled rabbits, I fastened my trousers as fast as I could and sat up. My mate looked terrified, but I signalled him to keep quiet and went downstairs to tell Dad that he and I were doing our homework upstairs.

We stayed for about half an hour after that, but he couldn't seem to relax and it wasn't long before he made an excuse to go home. I never saw him again outside school as we moved house and I think that he has gone back to England now anyway. I suppose I was remembering that when I just made that story up.

Thinking to myself what a wonderful feeling it must be to actually suck someone's dick, I nervously asked him if he still wanted it sucked, hoping against hope that he did.

Michael answered that when his friend had started to suck his, the feeling he had was absolutely heavenly. "I can still remember what it was like, feeling his warm, most mouth around my dick. I have been thinking about it quite a lot recently; I was even thinking about it the other night when you arrived in the hotel, perhaps that's why I have been feeling randy whenever you are around - especially after that first time we tossed off together in your bathroom. If you suck my prick, can I do yours afterwards?"

Readily agreeing to this, I turned round on the bed and putting both my hands at the base of his shaft, lowered myself onto his ready and willing cock.

I shan't describe how it felt - it would be impossible to put my thoughts into words adequately, suffice it to say that my mind seemed to blank out completely and was filled with nothing but the ecstasy of feeling another boys organ in my mouth. I was also dimly aware that Michael was moaning and groaning somewhere in the distance, like me he must also be lost in his own erotic paradise. This was confirmed when he put his hands in my hair and began to massage the back of my head, gently forcing me further and further down on him. When his prick first touched the back of my throat, I thought that I was going to be sick, but the sensation soon passed and then I really began to enjoy what I was doing, giving it my full and undivided attention.

All the while I was pumping up and down on Michael, he was keeping time with me by wanking me off, something which only added to the pleasure I was getting at my end! Naturally, the excitement soon became too much for either of us and we both came almost together. It must have been the surprise of his come hitting my throat which brought me to a sudden and massive climax as I wasn't even aware that I was that close to coming, but come I did - and more than I can ever remember coming before - it spurted out in what seemed like a never-ending stream and my mate was covered in it from his chest downwards.

Michael, like me, was too exhausted to even speak for a minute or two, we just flopped back on the bed and tried with difficulty to get our reeling minds back to some sort off reality. I have had some sex sessions in the past which have been pretty good and memorable, but this one beat them all (and I remember the thought crossing the maelstrom of my mind that this was something I must try with my mate at school.).

Having eventually got the power of speech back, I looked at Michael and simply said "Fucking hell!"

Michael's face said it all; it had to as he obviously was neither able or ready to risk talking yet . He lay there, eyes and mouth wide open and breathing in short, sharp gasps. At first I thought he was having an asthma attack or something and I was becoming quite worried about him when he managed to stammer a single word -"Christ!"

Giving him a chance to recover, I put my hand back on his now limp prick and started to fondle it idly. Michael put his hand on top of mine and, without forcing me in any way simply followed my motions up and down his prick. Eventually of course, it began to regain its former glory and I could feel it hardening under my fingers. Taking this as a sign that he was regaining some sort of composure, I turned to face him.

"Are you allright?"

"Yeah - I am now, but I thought I was going to fucking die just then. It was bloody marvellous. Give me a minute and I'll show you."

And he did just that. He also proved that he wasn't wrong. I wouldn't have believed that having just come, I could come again so quickly and with such force. Just like before, having spent our passions for the second wonderful time within a few minutes, we lay back, comfortable in each others arms, content to be alone with our own thoughts for a while.

"Tell you what," I eventually said, "That kid Anwar has something to answer for. Just wait 'till I see him!"

Michael grinned back at me, "That's a thought" he said mischievously, "We must give that some thought."

As Michael, like me, was on holiday for the summer, we arranged to meet the following morning and take a trip down town.

Cairo is a big, chaotic city. Travelling around in the heat of the summer was very uncomfortable because of the heat and the seething mass of people who seemed to be everywhere. Anyway, he decided that the quickest and easiest way to get downtown was by the tram, or Metro, as it was called locally. This was a lot cheaper than the trying to get a taxi, and probably almost as quick.

Eventually we arrived at the nearest stop to the river, a place called Midan Tahrir, which was an enormous bus station really, with the Cairo Museum on one side, the Nile Hilton on the river side, and the main government offices on a third. Not far away, Michael explained, was the British Embassy. But that wasn't the place we were aiming for. Instead we walked through the square and into the Hilton. Instead of stopping there, as I expected, he took me straight out of the door on the other side, where, once we crossed the busy road, we stood on the banks of the Nile.

"Come on," he said, follow me, and started to walk along the riverside.

Under a bridge about a hundred yards away he pointed out a gang of Egyptian boys swimming in the cool shade of the bridge. There were about ten of them, varying in age from about 10 to 16 or so. Stopping just near them, we leaned over the wall and gazed at them. One or two of them waved at Michael, who returned the wave with a smile.

"I sometimes stop here on the way home from school and watch them," he explained, "We can't talk to each other but they are friendly enough and I sometimes give them a few piastres for drinks or something."

Looking down at them, I could understand why he enjoyed looking at them. As most Egyptian boys, they had beautifully smooth olive-coloured skin, which looked even better when it glistened with the water. They must have been from the very poorest of the local population as their galabeyas were mostly torn and ragged, and not one of them wore a pair of swimming things. Those that decided to go in the water either kept their galabeya on, or if they wore anything underneath, wore just their underpants. I was particularly taken by a lad of about twelve or so who had been swimming in his pants. Being wet, I could see a perfect set of balls and his prick outlined by them - and they were heavenly. I couldn't take my eyes of them, and they must have noticed this as they gabbled something in Arabic and pointing at David and me started laughing. Feeling a bit put out at this, I was about to walk away when Michael stopped me.

"Don't worry. They did that to me at first. I am sure they know why I like watching them, but they don't seem to care very much. Once in a while they even drop their clothes deliberately to give me a better view, but I haven't managed to get any nearer to them than this - yet!" he said, not taking his eyes off them. "Perhaps now there are two of use, they may make a move"

Nothing particular happened while we were there, and so we decided to go into the hotel, grab something to eat and head back home.

It was Michael's idea to take a Limousine Misr taxi to get home after we had finished. Sitting in the back of the Mercedes, heading homewards, I asked him what the rush was.

"Watching those boys, I was trying to think of a way we could have some fun with Anwar, and I think I have the answer if you want to try it."

Continuing with his idea, he explained that one of the little jobs Anwar did was to collect all the empty Coke and 7-Up bottles when told to do so, and go to get them replaced. Michael thought that if we sent him out to buy some more after we got home, he just might be lucky enough to find one of us, or even both, in 'a compromising position' and we could take it from there.

Not feeling at all sure that we ought to do this, I voice my reservations to my friend.

"I don't think there will be a problem. He has seen me naked before when I have come out of the shower and he didn't seem at all put off by it. I think that he only needs a little push for him to have some fun with us."

I was still uncertain about the plan, but I bowed to his superior knowledge and trusted his judgement. Glancing down at his crutch, I noticed that he had managed to give himself a hard-on. I nudged him in the side and pointedly looked down at it. He grinned back at me and simply said "I'll save that for later"

We were back at the house within a few minutes, and we were both pleased to see that Anwar was playing with some odd toys in the drive, both his parents being out.

As we walked past, Michael called him over and told him in what I thought was quite reasonable Arabic to go and get some drinks for us. Quickly he scampered away into the kitchen and could be heard gathering the bottles together. Michael and I went straight upstairs and into his bedroom. Without hardly a pause for breath, Michael began to strip off.

"Take your shirt off, and your shoes and socks, as if you were going to take a shower. Loosen your trousers if you want, it'll make it look better. When he comes back I'll shout for him to bring us a couple of drinks up, and we'll see what happens next."

Doing as I was asked, I threw my clothes on the floor to join his. Naked, Michael walked through to the bathroom next door and turned the shower on. It wasn't long before we heard Anwar in the kitchen, putting the bottles in the fridge. Yelling something in Arabic, I heard Anwar reply "Aiywa", meaning yes.

"Get ready, he'll be here in a minute" the seducer whispered. Lay on the bed as if you are waiting for me to come out of the shower.

As Anwar entered the room with the two opened bottles, he was closely followed by Michael who had wrapped a towel round his head as if he was drying his hair. The towel hid almost all his face, with just a little gap which allowed him to see where he was going. Apart from that he was completely naked, and showing a boner as well. In Anwar saw that, he couldn't help but guess what we were about to do. By this time, I also had the beginning of a hard-on as the bulge in my loosened shorts must have showed.

Anwar walked across to the desk and put the bottles down on it. Michael, close behind him, walked into him. The boner, I thought, must have hit him straight in the middle of his back. Turning round in surprise, Anwar stopped and stared. For a split second he looked like a frightened rabbit and was rooted to the spot. Stepping back a bit, Michael took the towel from his head and apologised to Anwar in English.

Having got over the initial shock, Anwar made no attempt to rush away. Instead he looked at Michael's boner, then at me, and back to Michael. Grinning slightly, he made the universal sign for wanking in front of himself. We both nodded, looking directly at him. Deciding that his presence wasn't wanted, Anwar made as if to leave the room, but Michael put his hand on his shoulder, pointed at him and again made the wanking sign. Anwar's face clouded for a moment as he tried to work out what he meant. At first he just pointed at me, and then Michael and made the sign again. Michael nodded at him, and again pointed to Anwar, himself and me. He then understood what Michael meant. Pointing first at himself, he then pointed to us and said something in Arabic which neither of us could of course understand. We could both see, however, that we had had some effect on him as a slight bulge in his loose shorts showed. Not being able to think of anything else, Michael took the bull by the horns and very slowly walked towards Anwar, holding his cupped hand out in front of him, obviously aiming to take hold of his balls. Anwar, to give him his due, didn't make a move although he could have done so at any time. Instead he just stood there, waiting for Michael to reach him. Having gone so far, he couldn't back off now and very gently, he felt Anwar's balls and prick. I could just see Anwar push his thighs forward slightly as he did this, obviously agreeing to the 'assault'.

Letting go and taking a step back, Michael indicated that Anwar should take his shorts off and go across to the bed.

Running cat-like to the door, at first I thought he was going to run off, but all he did was close it, turn round and remove his pants. The sight which greeted Michael and I was incredible. The boner he had was more than just beautiful, it was perfection! Being only about ten, he was still completely hairless, and his balls seemed to be still tight up against his body, but the prick was wonderful. Without appearing at all nervous, he skipped across to the bed and jumped up on it to join me.

Michael, who had just stood transfixed up until now, hurried across and joined us. Anwar was now sat between us, waiting for something to happen. Michael very gently took hold of his prick and began to feel it, moving his hand around his prick and balls. Anwar, quickly grasping the idea, put his hand on Michael's rigid prick. The sight of his dark-skinned hands playing around with Michael's bright pink tool was amazingly erotic. Suddenly all the pictures of naked Arabic men I had seen in the magazines meant nothing - this was the real, real thing!

Anwar was obviously enjoying himself, and was now quite relaxed. Turning to me, he gave me a quizzical look and pointed at my shorts, which in the heat of the moment I had forgotten I was wearing. Leaning back, I arched upwards and began to slid them off. Anwar let go of Michael and delighted me by helping remove them, the coolness of his hands against my hot thighs giving me the most enormous thrill.

Leaning back again, Anwar put one hand on each of our pricks and began to masturbate us, both at the same time! Reaching across to find his prick, I wasn't at all surprised to find Michael's already there. Taking it in turns to feel him, Michael and I were deliriously happy, still not quite believing that our plan (or rather Michael's) had come together.

Suddenly, Anwar's hands stopped moving. Looking at him, he indicated that I should roll over onto my stomach. Not knowing what his idea was, I nevertheless did as I was asked and lay face down on the bed, my neck twisting so I could see what his intention was. Anwar knelt astride me, with his knees just about level with mine and facing the same way. I became very concerned however, when his next move was to grab hold of his cock and slowly push it between the cheeks of my arse. I had heard of being fucked before of course, but had never actually given it much thought - particularly as to what it actually involved. Yet here was I, laying face down on a bed, about to be fucked by a gorgeous Arab boy. The thought crossed my mind that what he was about to do would hurt - a lot, but I consoled myself by remembering that he had only got a fairly small cock, and probably couldn't get it very far in, if he could get it in at all. Straining to see where Michael was, I could just see him out of the corner of my eye, smiling slightly and watching the proceedings with intense interest.

I was aware of Anwar's cock pushing against my bum hole, and also of my involuntarily fighting it back. Anwar pushed harder, and I could just feel my hole opening to let him in when he pulled away. Turning over to see what he was doing, I watched as he made hand-washing movements in Michael's direction. Soundlessly, he left the room to return almost instantly with a bottle of shampoo from the bathroom. Taking the bottle from him, Anwar spread a little of it onto his prick, and also around my hole.

This time he went in easily, and I was amazed to find that the feeling was not at all unpleasant. Very exciting, in fact, and I felt my erection getting even harder. Anwar began to fuck me, very slowly at first, but gradually getting faster and faster. I could feel him inside me, and whatever part of my inside he was touching made me feel excruciatingly excited. Suddenly, he thrust himself really hard into me, and I could feel his spunk shooting down my insides! After a few more strokes, Anwar pulled out and rolled over onto his back, breathing heavily. Turning to look at him, I saw Michael was standing stock-still, staring at us both and having a hard, viscious wank. Anwar, noticing that I was looking at Michael, turned to see what was going on. Grinning broadly and jumping off the bed quickly, he took hold of Michael's hand and stopped him - just about in time I reckoned. He then knelt down and took his prick in his mouth, and sucked for all he was worth! Almost instantly Michael came. I would have thought that the amount of spunk he could produce would have choked little Anwar, but it didn't seem to worry him unduly, he simply made sure that he had sucked every last drop of come from the rapidly sinking prick into his mouth. Rising to his feet, he nipped across to the window and spat it onto the pavement below!

By this time, as you may well imagine, we were all exhausted. The emotional and physical strain of the past -what? half an hour? - had taken its toll. Anwar was the first to recover some sort of composure. Arising from the tangled mass of bodies on the bed, he picked up his galabeya and put it on. Idly watching him get dressed, Anwar saw that I was watching him and returned to the bedside. To my surprise, he bent over and kissed me quite firmly on the cheeks! Doing the same to Michael, he gave us both a cheeky grin and nipped through the door, closing it quietly behind him.

For the next week or so, Michael, Anwar and I had some terrific times. At first Michael and me were a bit worried that our new-found friend would tell someone what we had been doing, but as the days went by, we became less concerned, and more involved with building up some excellent relationships. The only time we ever got at all worried was when my father heard me speak Arabic to one of the local shopkeepers, and he wondered how I had picked up so much in such a little time. Fortunately, he didn't know that Michael knew almost no Arabic and believed me when I told him that he had taught me. If only he knew that most of the words I knew were most certainly not ones I could use in his presence. The first word I picked up, naturally, from Anwar was "zubra", which means "prick". When he left us, he always said "Zubra bockra?", which we rapidly learned mean "Prick tomorrow?" Anwar was as delighted as we were, and more than happy to both take and give "prick" as often as he could - and in return we both learned a smattering of each others language.

At the end of the second week of our 'games', father came in from work early one evening and told me that he had to go back to England for a few days to collect some sort of paperwork. My heart fell like a stone at the thought of losing my friends so quickly, and just as we were getting to 'know' each other. My disappointment must have showed because he put his arm on my shoulder and said that he had arranged for me to stay with Michael's family until he came back - if I agreed! Trying my best to hide the conflicting emotions of losing Dad for a week, and the thought of living with Michael (and Anwar) for I said, sadly, that in the circumstances I supposed I could put up with Michael for a few days. What happened during those days is another story.

_____________________ Hope you enjoyed this tale. If you would like to hear more, or have any other (positive!) comments, please let me know.

John