Open Sesame

Open Sesame Chapter 2

Open Sesame

a fantasy

by Hank Horne

(hank2337@gmail.com)

The limo was waiting for us when we landed, although it still took forever to get our luggage, but finally we were headed into DC and out Connecticut Avenue.  Almost home!  Thank God.          I really got excited when we drove around Chevy Chase Circle.          Then Home at Last!

Part II – Base Locale: Suburban Washington, DC

Greta was at the door when the limo stopped at the front of the house.  She ran down the steps and gave me a huge hug and a big kiss.  I love my little sister with all my heart; although she is legally deaf, she is fully functioning.  She lives in the "in-law" cottage adjacent to the main house and has her own entrance on Bradley Lane.  She takes care of the house, does my grocery shopping and cooking for me when I'm home, as well as volunteering at the Center for the Hearing Impaired in Washington, taking a bus or cab when and where she needs to.

Greta developed an ear infection when a small baby which left her deaf.  Fortunately, the foremost school for the deaf is in Washington.  Our mom would drive her to and from school daily.  When she was in high school at Kendall School, I would drive her to Deaf Club functions.  Because her boyfriend, Robbie, was on the Gallaudet University wrestling squad, I would take her to his matches, and he would bring her to some of mine.   Occasionally Robbie would visit us and we would work-out together on the mats in our basement while Greta watched.  She loved watching her brother and boyfriend wrestling around together.

At times, she would invite the entire wrestling squad and their girlfriends over for a party.  The girls would be upstairs doing their girl things and the guys downstairs wrestling.  Those times are when the squad could just wrestle and forget about coaches critiquing every move they made.  Those were times when the squad could get away with illegal grabs and enjoy being themselves.  Of course, I was in there with them, and loving every minute of it. 

Greta and Robbie still see each other and might get married someday.  If they do, they're welcome to the `big house' and I can take the apartment.  Or if some of the plans I've been working on come to fruition, I'll build a place somewhere out of the D.C. area.

The limo driver helped put our luggage on the porch, I gave him a fifty-dollar tip, so he might remember if I needed a limo again.

Standing there on the porch, I introduced each of the guys to Greta, both orally – so they would know what I was saying – and in ASL (American Sign Language), spelling each name and giving Greta the opportunity to select an appropriate sign for their name.

"Greta, this is my very good friend and cameraman, Majid (M-A-J-I-D).  He may be working here with me.  Yes, he is very muscular, so the letter M on the bicep is a good sign for a muscleman.

"This is his cousin, Dildar (D-I-L-D-A-R).  Yes, the letter D circling the face does say he is pretty – handsome and charming.

"And this is Dildar's best friend, Hassan (H-A-S-S-A-N).  Okay, the letter H across the bicep because he is a muscleman too."

The guys were almost in hysterics by the time everyone got their name-signs.

Hassan asked, "What is your name-sign? The letter `G' with both hands on both biceps, Mr. Muscleman?"

"No, my sign is the letter G from the heart moving away from the body for `Grant,' symbolizing `giving' or `granting.'"

The guys practiced all the names and had fun with it.  I explained briefly that signs for men usually are given toward the top of the head and signs for women are given near the jaw.  Greta hit me hard on the arm because she knew what I was going to say next. 

"That's because men use their brains and women use their mouths."

The guys bent double laughing while Greta beat up on me.  I put my arm around her and gave her a big kiss on the forehead.

We took the things in and I showed the guys upstairs and gave them their choice of rooms.  There are five bedrooms upstairs, each with a shared bath except for the master suite which has its own. 

"Maji, you have your choice of a room of your own ... or share mine."

"I thought you'd never ask," he replied with a smirk.

Everybody got settled in as Greta put chicken, egg, potato, and macaroni salads, some other cold veggies, rolls, and cookies, along with a big pitcher of `Arnold Palmers', ready for ice or being heated on the dining room sideboard for us.  We grabbed plates, filled them and settled in at one end of the table.  Greta is the perfect hostess, just as our mother was. 

Although we slept several hours on the flight over the Atlantic, we were still tired from the jetlag when we got home.  The guys helped take the food and things back into the kitchen where we got the leftovers in the fridge, dishes in the dishwasher and it started.  Greta said good night and went to her cottage.  The guys and I looked around the main floor a bit, then went up to bed. 

When Maji and I got in bed, he asked me, "What's between you and Jim Guthrie?  You two have a special feeling for each other, I can tell."

Well, that took me by surprise.  "Nothing, really.  It's just a connection of having gone to rival high schools, being on the wrestling squad at the same university at different times, both into pumping iron, and both gay.  There is nothing more, I promise.  It's absolutely nothing like the connection you and I have.  And we have the rings and a unique experience to verify that." 

I moved closer to him, pulled him to me into a passionate kiss.  With my arm around Maji and my leg over his, I got as close to him as I could, and he responded by poking me in my abdomen with a growing expression of his pleasure.  As we came up for air, I whispered to him that we both might be intimate with other men, or even women, but for me, he would be my eternal love.  And as reassurance, I wanted him to take me here and now, as never before.  I wanted to fully submit to him as my husband, now and forever. 

We were both in tears as he worked his way down my body, covering every part of me with kisses.  When he reached my joy-stick, he enveloped me all the way.  I gasped as he rolled his tongue up and down my shaft while his mouth remained filled with my length and girth.  Then he rolled his tongue up to the cap and as he slid his tongue down, he pulled his mouth off slowly; then his tongue rolled up to the head again and slid toward the base again as his mouth moved upward a little more; and the third time, I felt my balls churning and I was beyond control.

"Can't hold any longer.  Here – I – cum!"

I grabbed his head and shot my full load down his throat.  He slid back up in our bed, leaned in for a kiss and returned nearly all the baby-makers I had deposited with him.  We lay there, basking in the glow for maybe half an hour when he asked, "Are you ready for the Iraqi invasion?"

"I'm always ready, willing and able.  With a little help from some lube, that is."  I reached into the bedside stand and got the tube, worked some lube into the receptacle and gave him some for his battering ram.  "Easy does it, Goliath!"

Maji leaned down and kissed me as he slowly worked his way past the initial obstacle.  As he got a bit farther in, he forced his tongue between my lips, taking my attention away from what was going on farther down.  He slid past all resistance and paused while he invaded my mouth to the north.  After a short pause, he proceeded all the way to the hilt for the southern invasion, where he paused again.

Again, I shed tears of joy as our tongues played `you're it' tag.   "I love you, Maji, more than you'll ever know. And I'll love you for as long as we both shall live.  You are the one and only man I need in my life."

Maji began the pumping, full length to just inside the `O-ring' and back the full length.  The sensation as he rubbed my nut was inexplicable.  I gasped every time he made contact.  As he pumped faster, I started to hyperventilate.  He pumped harder and faster as I shot a second load all over my face, chest and stomach.  Then he plunged all the way in and I felt myself filling up inside.  He must have gone into overload. 

I probably passed out because the next I remembered, he had crawled on top of me and licked up the cum off my body and was forcing it in my mouth.  I grabbed him in a bear-hug and tongued my own cum back into his mouth. 

We lay there for a long time before he rolled off to my side and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

Meanwhile . . .

In the bedroom that had been mine when our parents were alive, Dildar was having a difficult time getting to sleep.  He tossed.  He turned.  He wiggled.  He just couldn't sleep.  He was nervous about this new situation.  It was the first time he had been away from home, and he may have been somewhat scared.  What was going to happen to him?  He missed his family.  Majid and Hassan were with him but his mother, dad, sisters, neighbors, friends were thousands of miles away.  Would he ever get to see them again?  Was this his punishment for having feelings for Hassan?  For wanting to hug him and even kiss him?  For wanting to have sex with him?  Even thinking about it was a sin back home.  He would be flogged, maybe even stoned for these desires.  But he still missed his family and friends.

The light in the bathroom went on.

"Hassan?"

"Yes, Dil.  I have to piss."

Dildar got up and walked to the bathroom, opening the door.  Hassan was standing at the toilet, in all his glory with his big, long, thick cock spouting a stream of piss.  Dildar stood transfixed at the sight.  Hassan finished, shaking off the last few drops, then turned and looked directly at Dildar.

"What?"

"You're so big!"

"You're not tiny either, little brother."

"You think of me as your brother?"

"I don't have any other brother.  You've always been my little buddy and like a brother to me.  I've always tried to protect you, and care for you like a little brother."

Hassan walked over to Dildar and took him in his arms.  Their very adequate masculinity rubbed against each other and reacted to the other's touch.

Dildar put his head on Hassan's shoulder and tears ran down the bigger man's chest.  Hassan hugged his "little buddy" even tighter.

"Come on and get in bed with me.  I'll hold you for a while."

"I not wearing any night clothes," Dildar objected.

"You notice I don't either?  Who's going to tell us we have to wear night clothes here in America?  I always sleep without night clothes, and since you do too, who cares now that we're here.  And you should have heard what I did earlier.  Come, get in bed with me and I'll tell you what I heard."

They got in Hassan's bed together, face to face and `eye to eye.'    Hassan proceeded to relate what he had heard coming from Grant and Majid's bedroom.  Dildar lay there, mouth agape. 

"You're lying! Just to make me feel better!  I don't believe a word of it!" Dildar protested.

"Every word is true.  I am sure that Majid and Grant are lovers.  The way they treat each other, even in public.  So, if Majid and Grant can be lovers, we can be lovers too – if you want to," Hassan whispered.

"I have always wanted to be lovers with you.  But we could be stoned or flogged to death."

"Not in America."  Hassan leaned and kissed his lover full on the lips.  Dildar returned the kiss firmly.  Hassan forced his tongue between Dildar's sensuous lips and Dildar sucked on the tongue, then forced his own tongue into Hassan's waiting orifice. 

Hassan broke the kiss and worked his way down his lover's neck and chest until he got to Dildar's fully erect nipples.  He paused awhile and licked and nipped both brown protrusions, giving the young man feelings he never knew he could have. 

Dildar moaned with pleasure.  He had no idea what was yet to come.

Hassan continued his ministrations on down Dildar's happy trail, to the waiting pubic area, where he licked around the base of the younger man's joy stick, which was extended to its full eight inches, with a slight curve upward.  Hassan's tongue worked its way out the full length and flipped the tip with his tongue several times, making it bob up-and-down.  Dildar gasped as he sensed unexpected feelings from the attention Hassan was giving him.

Hassan took the head of Dildar's pleasure pole in his mouth and slowly worked his way down toward the base.  He needed to make several attempts in his journey to his bushy goal because of the size and curve.  But with every attempt, he adjusted his head to accept more of the protrusion down his throat.   Dildar was gasping and moaning and crying with joy at the feelings he was receiving from the love of his life. 

When Hassan was able to reach the base of the pole, he paused and rubbed his tongue back and forth against the fully engorged cock. 

"I can't hold it!  I'm cumming!!" Dildar whispered loudly.

Hassan pulled back until just the head was in his mouth and took the voluminous amount of his love-buddy's offering, moaning as he sucked the full load.  Then he turned and shared it with his lover.

"Dil, I love you and I want us to be together forever," Hassan whispered.

"Hassan, I love you, too, and I always have.  Keep me with you and I'll be your loyal servant," Dildar replied.

"Dil, I don't want you to be my servant; I want you to be my lover and mate," Hassan replied.

"Always!" the two young lovers said together.

Dildar turned over and Hassan put his arm around the young stud, and they slept soundly, cuddled together.

* * * * * * *

The next morning, Greta sent Grant a text message asking when he wanted breakfast, and he texted back: "I will get back with you in a few."  He put on some shorts and knocked on the two guest room doors, not realizing only one was being occupied.   Hassan opened his door to let Grant in, still naked.  Dildar was just waking up. 

Grant grinned and asked: "Making progress?"

"Yes, and he tastes yummy!" Hassan replied, with a grin on his face.

Both young men were showing morning wood, and Dildar grabbed the sheet and pulled it over him.

"Too late, Dil, I've already seen it!" I teased.  Dildar turned very red under his dark skin!  "When do you want breakfast?  About thirty minutes?"

"Yes, that would be good," the guys agreed.

"See you in the dining room in thirty."  Grant then texted Greta the time they would be down.

Grant went back into his room and found Majid already in the shower, so Grant joined him.  Everyone met in the dining room.  While the guests sat at the table, Grant poured them coffee, then went into the kitchen to see what his sister was cooking.  She shooed him out of the room and signed "surprise," so Grant joined the others for coffee.  Soon Greta rolled in a serving cart filled with scrambled eggs with bits of sausage in them, homemade biscuits, and sausage gravy.  Butter and jams were on the table already.  When Grant saw his all-time favorite breakfast, he put his arm around his sister and signed "thank you" as he voiced it, then gave her a big kiss.

During breakfast, Greta asked what they had planned for the day.  "Maybe looking around the place here.  This afternoon, I want to take the guys over to Friendship Village and get them outfitted with both casual and dress clothes.  Old Navy, The Gap and Brooks Brothers, definitely, and then maybe set them up with a suit from Everett Hall Boutique.  Maybe a nap before dinner."

Greta's eyes got very big as she signed: "You can afford Everett Hall?"  Grant smiled and nodded.

"Just one suit for Majid.  I have one suit and I want him to have one too," Grant conceded.  "And yes, he can afford it!"  Majid did a double take.

"I've got the one Arman got for me," Majid offered. 

Grant nodded, "I forgot about that; you sure do."

"We have to go to the State Department tomorrow to deliver something from the Embassy in Bagdad, and I want us all to be dressed to the nines.  Then we'd better check in at the office sometime during the day."

We stacked our dishes on the rolling cart and Dildar pushed it back into the kitchen for Greta.  She gave him a kiss on the cheek and thanked him.  He blushed then rejoined us.  We took a tour of the house, the grounds and ended up in the basement recreation room.  I keep my Universal machine and some weights down there, along with my wrestling mats.  There's also a toilet, sink and shower next to the laundry room.  We all lay down to rest for an hour or so when Greta texted me she was fixing Philly-style steak sandwiches for lunch, with chips and mixed fruit.  She is fully aware of dietary limitations for the guys.  She asked what we wanted to drink, and I texted back: "milk, or sodas or tea or – LOL."  She sent back an emoji with its tongue stuck out!

After lunch, we went shopping; it's just a short drive from our house – I have walked it before, many years ago.  Friendship Village has really grown in the years since I bagged groceries at the Giant Food's there during high school.   We looked around at the numerous shops that have been built up recently, just to give the guys some ideas as to what styles they might like.  They really liked The Gap and Old Navy and spent a good portion of the money I had given them on the casual clothes.   They desperately needed some underwear and I love the cut of The Gap's boxer-briefs – especially the shorter cut, print style, and especially on these hot, sexy men.   They were laughing at my choices for them. 

Then we went into Brooks Brothers to try on suits.  I wanted them to have one dressy, business suit and a couple of sport outfits; a couple of jackets and a blazer, with a couple of pairs of slacks to go with each of them.  Hassan was an especially sharp shopper; he got a couple of casual sport coats that would interchange with all his slacks, as would the blazer.  Dildar picked up on that and asked him to help him for some suggestions.  Both guys looked incredible in all the combinations of pairings.  They also picked out a variety of shirts, ties, a couple of belts, socks and shoes – a couple pairs of slip-on loafers, a pair of sneakers, and a pair of dress shoes.

Majid got a couple of sport coats, some slacks, sporty dress shirts and a couple more ties at Brooks Brothers to fill out his wardrobe.

Back at home, the guys had to model some of their purchases for Greta and she was absolutely motherly in her appreciation of how they looked.  Then we all retired to our rooms for R&R – the in-bed kind – Recreation and then Rest.

After dinner, we took a brandy into the living room, while Greta finished up in the kitchen.  She came in and said good night then went to her apartment.  The other guys wanted to try some of the hard stuff that they had heard about.  I pulled out a variety of brandies and liqueurs for them to taste.  None of them cared for the taste of any of them.  Understandable!  I'm not that fond of them either.  Personally, I enjoy wines with my meals and my own selections of whiskeys.  Single malt Scotch, Crown Royal and rum cocktails; NO bourbon or gin, and a few other selections.  I keep a good quality bottle of each for friends who do drink that stuff.  Maybe tomorrow night I'll mix a pitcher of Sangria to have with dinner.

Then I suggested we go downstairs and mess around on the mats for an hour or so.  When we got down there, we stripped to our underwear and I grabbed Hassan in a bear hug to see how he would break it.  He's a very strong guy and gave me a good fight.  I took the opportunity to make some (normally) illegal grabs and he retaliated with locking his muscular legs around my head.  As I struggled to get loose, I turned around and my face ended up in his crotch, with his massive rod rubbing my nose.  Then he grabbed my nuts and squeezed.  That was when I opened my mouth and bit down on his balls, to get him to release mine.  We separated and gave each other a big hug while sitting on the mat.

"I've been wanting to do that ever since we met," Hassan told me.

"So have I, Hass.  Thanks, I really enjoyed that." 

He helped me up and then grabbed Maji and flipped him to the mat, landing on top of him.  Then the fight was on.  Maji pulled Hassan's boxer-briefs down around his legs, letting all the young man's "goodies" hang out.  Hassan returned the favor, and the two of them went at it on the mat totally nude.  Dildar was really enjoying the show, when I sneaked up behind him and pulled his skivvies down around his ankles.  He turned around and returned the favor for me.  The four of us were on the mats, wrestling around as the Greeks did thousands of years ago.

At some point, I grabbed Maji's leg and Dildar fell on top of Hassan.  So we switched wrestling opponents.  During our rolling around on the mat, I asked Maji: "What do you think about introducing Jamal and Arman to them?  They're going to probably find out sometime."

"How are you going to do that?" Maji replied.

"Scenario:  They need to learn about being clean for anal penetration.  Let the jinn come in and show them about it and how it can be done.  They would have a package, including a package enema, condoms, lube, and such.  They would materialize upstairs and when they walk in they will look like normal Arab hunks in shorts, T-shirts and sandals.  Then they would give the boys a demonstration of cleaning themselves and each other."

"Arman, what do you and Jamal think about that?" Maji asked.

"We're on it," the two jinn replied.

We instantly heard footsteps on the steps leading to the basement.  Hassan and Dildar stopped their horseplay with the anticipation of someone else seeing them naked.  They were terrified when two giant musclemen, obviously Mid-Eastern, came in the room.  I greeted the newcomers: "Hi, guys!  What's up?  (pause) Or should I ask, `How much is up?'"

Jamal answered, "I've got about 35 centimeters if you can take it."

Arman joined in, "I can fit the size to the hole."

Maji and I bent double laughing, while the boys weren't believing what they were hearing and seeing. 

"Hassan, Dildar, we want you to meet a couple of very special friends, Jamal with the big cock, and Arman with the adjustable cock. They're Persian identical twins – sorta-kinda."   The two jinn reached out to shake hands with the young guys as they tried to stand to greet the newcomers.  They still couldn't say anything. 

In unison, the jinn said, "We hope to be good friends with you, too."

"Jamal and Arman sometimes disappear for a while then return when we need them.  This time they have something to show you, and not just their incredible muscles and big cocks," I commented.

The jinn led us all to the bathroom and proceeded to show the young men how to use the enemas, both on themselves and on each other.  Then Jamal bent Arman over and proceeded to fuck him, easy to begin with and then proceeded to get rougher.  The two monster musclemen seemed to really enjoy the show, and the young Iraqi men could not believe men from their country would do that, so anyone could see them. 

That's when Maji and I grabbed some lube and joined the party; this was my turn to top.  I started slowly then increased tempo as Maji got used to the American back-door invasion.  By this time, the big men had changed position and Arman was on his back with one leg over Jamal's shoulder and the other leg on the floor.  I released Maji and moved to the mat, lying on my back; Maji proceeded to sit on it and we watched ourselves in the mirrors. 

Jamal put Arman's other leg over his shoulder, picked him up and carried him into the rec room also, while still attached to each other at the crotch.  He placed his lover with his shoulders on the mat and continued fucking him.  All this excitement was having its effect on the four of us mortals.  I was ready to unload into Maji, he was ready to release all over his own body, and both Hassan and Dildar shot healthy amounts on the mat without ever touching their cocks. 

"Wilak!" [O-M-G!] both young men cried simultaneously as they released copious amounts of baby-makers involuntarily.

The rest of us looked at them and laughed at their situation.  Then Jamal and Arman roared as they both had orgasms of their own.  I pulled out of Maji and showed Hassan and Dildar I was still clean, except for some good stuff which Jamal leaned down and licked up, (Oh, he has a great tongue!) and Arman cleaned Maji's body of his ejaculate.

Jamal and Arman accompanied us up to our bedrooms.  I told Hassan and Dildar to forget pretending they were using both beds because nobody here cares that they are sleeping together. 

"Just be sure neither of you gets pregnant!" Majid told them.  That was good for a big laugh all around. 

The jinn followed us into our room, leaned down to kiss us good night, then disappeared.  Maji and I were so tired we collapsed into bed after our nightly bathroom routine.

The next morning after breakfast, we dressed in our fancy (read that `expensive') new duds.  Our appointment with the Secretary of State was for 10:00 a.m.  We arrived at the State Department Building a block from the Potomac River at quarter to ten.  We stopped at the main reception and security desk just inside the front door, where we were given Visitor Passes with our names and a photo taken then.  An escort led us to the elevator and we went up to the Secretary's office.  The Assistant Secretary for Mid-East Affairs, Rashad Khoury, met us and showed us to his office as the Secretary of State was in a Cabinet Meeting still.

I introduced the three men with me and gave the Dispatch Packet to him.  He offered us seats in an area of the office with a beautiful couch and matching chairs.  He took one of the chairs and opened the envelope, read the letter then started the conversation based on what was in the letter.  It included what the three guys thought of being in America, what they plan to do while here and why Majid thought he might want to emigrate here.  Their responses were spot on what I thought would satisfy the government, and he gave no indication as to his impression of the reasons given.  After about fifteen minutes, he stood and thanked us for stopping by and told us he would pass this on to the Secretary with his recommendation.  We left, turned in our badges, and went back to my car. 

`Oh, God, I hate the traffic in D.C.  It's always been bad, but starting with the Metro construction, it's even worse today than ever before.  Two-way streets turned into one-way streets.  No left turns.  No turns.  Interstates going and coming every which way.  I want to get out of this area altogether.  Just come back occasionally to visit my parents at Arlington Cemetery and my sister at home.  Visits are enough for me now.'

Driving from the State Department over to the GNN building was a nightmare, but when we got to the parking garage, I showed my ID and drove up to the top deck of the garage for the moment.  I parked between two of the `Live' trucks parked up there so the security cameras would not be able to see us.  When I turned off the ignition, I turned in the seat so I could include everyone in what I had to say.

"Guys, we need to get out of these monkey suits and into some fashionable casual clothes.  Slacks, open collar shirt, sport coat, and appropriate accessories.  And we need to do this fast.  So I'm going to ask our buddies Jamal and Arman to help us.  They can get us home and back down here faster than I can drive it, so, here they come now. Let's get out of the car.  Maji and Dildar, (who were sitting on the passenger side) stand next to each other.  Hassan stand next to me.  This will be fast so don't shit in your pants when they pick us up. Jamal, Arman, my bedroom, please."

In a blink of an eye we appeared in my bedroom.

"Can I shit now?" Dildar asked.

"You know where the toilet is," I answered, laughing.

Dildar headed for my bathroom and Hassan headed for theirs.  I hoped they made it in time – and fortunately, they did.  When Dildar reappeared, Maji suggested he hurry and get changed into one of the sports outfits he bought yesterday.  Maji joined me in the bathroom to share the toilet in relieving our bladders.  Then we changed out of the $1500 suits we were wearing.  When we all were ready, Jamal and Arman reappeared.

"Who are these guys?" Dildar asked.  "I thought only jinn could do stuff like that."

"Well?" I asked.  The young men's eyes looked like ping-pong balls with painted eyes on them.

"They can't be jinn!" Hassan said.  "They don't really exist."

"Aw, look, you've hurt their feelings," Majid said as the two jinn drooped their heads, feigning rejection.

"I — I — I ..." Hassan started to say something.  The jinn looked up with their heads still drooped, but a smirk on their faces.  Dildar started to punch one of them on the arm but his hand just went through his body.

"It's a long story and we don't have time now to discuss it.  Let's get back to the GNN building so we can have lunch."  The next thing we knew, we were back by my car.  We got back in and circled around the parking lot to a better parking place, where we got out and took the elevator to the Executive Offices.  We walked into the Managing Director's office, where his secretary looked surprised I was standing before her. 

"Hi, Annie.  How's my favorite redhead?" I asked, as I leaned over her desk and gave her a kiss.

"Grant!  We weren't expecting you this soon.  Oohh, you always look better in person than on the tube.  Are those muscles pumped up so you can sweep me off my feet!"

"Annie, baby, you're so tiny I wouldn't need big muscles to sweep you up in my arms.   

"Who are these hunks you've got with you?  Your bodyguards so the women will be distracted by them and save you for me?" she asked.

"This biggest `hunk' is my cameraman, Majid Mustafa; the little `hunk' is his cousin, Dildar Fadel; and the middle `hunk' is Hassan Hassan, Dildar's BFF.  They are on vacation with us and in the next few weeks we'll take a look around America at the touristy things.   Is Daddy Warbucks in?"

"He's just getting ready to go to lunch.  I'll buzz him."   When he answered, she said, "Our best looking foreign correspondent and three friends are here, wanting you to take them to lunch!"

"Grant, you son-of-a-gun, get your ass in here now!" Ned Capel, the Washington Bureau Managing Director for GNN hollered over the intercom.   {He's tall, stocky and keeps his head shaved, plus a little redheaded secretary named Annie, therefore the nickname.}

Annie waved her hand in the direction of his office as he opened the door.  He pumped my hand and gave me a big bear hug.  Then he looked at Majid and realized who he was.

"Majid Mustafa, GNN's foremost cameraman, it's great meeting you!  How are you doing?"

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Capel.  I'm trying to adjust to the jet lag, but I get good sleep. Thank you for asking."

"And who are these young men, Majid?"

"This is my cousin, Dildar Fadel, my mother's nephew, and this is his best friend from childhood days, Hassan Hassan," Majid replied.

The men shook hands as they were introduced. 

"I was just going to the cafeteria downstairs.  You will join me, won't you?" Ned said.  {It was really a statement instead of a question.}

"We'd love to!" I said.  We all turned and walked toward the elevator. 

When we got to the cafeteria floor, I whispered to the three Iraqis, "I'll make some suggestions as we go through as to what you might like."  We got our trays and drinks, then I suggested what I thought they would like, which was basically from the Mediterranean menu.  I kept getting interrupted by friends who stopped us to say `hello.'   Several of the senior cameramen came to the table to meet Majid, whom they said was their idol.  They always asked how he could be on a shot by the time I started talking about it.  My standard reply became, "mental telepathy! He tells me where he's going to shoot and for me to talk about it."  {Good for a laugh!}

When we got back to Ned's office, Maji and I left the other two guys to entertain Annie until she went to lunch, and we joined Ned inside.  He pulled out new contracts that he had gotten from our agents and we gave him our notice that we would not be renewing them with GNN.  We explained that we would be scouting for a place away from DC to open a production studio and get a video business up and going.  After some more conversation and additional chit-chat, we left, got the guys from the reception area, said "hello and good bye" to Gloria, who had taken Annie's place, and left.

* * * * * * *

On the way home, I briefed the guys on some of the ideas I had thought about to get Crystal Rainbow, LLC (Limited Liability Corporation) up and running.  "First, scouting for land to develop it on.  Then find lawyers to draw up the corporate charter and purchase the land.  Next, get some architects to lay out plans for constructing the several buildings involved in the project.  They'll include a main house with extra quarters for household staff.  An all-male nightclub with hunky bartenders, show dancers and bar-backs, plus a diner upstairs with hunky servers and cooks.  A resort motel by the Gulf of Mexico or a lake, clothing optional, men only.  Farmland to grow fresh veggies and flowers, with a staff to work the gardens.  And landscapers to care for all the lawns.  Oh, and an apartment complex for all the staff to live in, a fitness center, rehearsal hall for dance practice. 

"What I want the four of us to do first is look through all the on-line sites for gorgeous, musclemen who really turn us on.  Then we'll have Jamal and Arman find these guys and get some DNA from each so they can be cloned to meet our standards for the total staff.  We'll start out with well over a hundred fantastically hot guys from every part and every cultural background in the world."  {Being clones, some may recognize their hosts as being among the hottest muscle hunks on the planet!}

"Okay, wrap your heads around that for a while," I ended my dissertation.  "Any immediate questions?" 

Everyone was quiet, trying to grasp what I was saying.  After a while, Hassan asked, "You want us to be a part of this unbelievable fantasy?"

At the same time, Maji said, "!Belê"  [I would!] and I replied, "Definitely!"

Then I added, "You can bet your ever-lovin' bippy, I do!  I think of you two as a part of us."   More silence as we drove around Chevy Chase Circle into Maryland.

"What's a `bippy'?" Dildar asked and I replied, "What you're sitting on."  It took him a bit to realize what I was talking about and we were home by that time.

We parked the car in the garage and went in through the kitchen.  The house was empty.  I led them into the office/library where we all took a seat.  We continued our conversation from the car.  I let them know they did not need to make any decision immediately. 

"We've got six months for you to decide, but you guys should know you have the support of the American Embassy in Bagdad, therefore our State Department and Maryland's Senator Staunton.  The choice will be yours after you see some of the country, where we will be living and involved in the early preparations.  I will certainly respect whatever decision you two make."

"I'll support you all the way," Maji interjected.  "So, think about it, talk it over with each other, and let us know sometime later what you've decided."

"We've had a busy day so far, and I'm ready for some playtime and a nap.  I still haven't adjusted to the time change," I told everybody, then stood to go upstairs.  On the way up, I told the guys that Greta was preparing a ham for dinner, but she would also fix lamb chops for them.  "That way you can taste the ham – if you want to.  I've survived eating ham for the past thirty years, so I don't think you'll die from it.  It's fully cooked; unlike hogs six thousand years ago, today hogs don't eat garbage.  They are fed clean food, their feeding troughs are sanitized daily, and the meat is fully cooked.  You're welcome to try it, or not.  Again no one here is trying to tell you what you can and cannot eat; you have free choice entirely.  I'm not going to try to hold Maji down and stuff food down his throat; I don't think I would win that fight."  {We all laughed.}

"Except maybe your tube-steak!" Dildar commented resulting in guffaws from Maji and Hassan.

Hassan and Dildar went into their room, undressed and crawled in bed.  They started out playing with each other's joy-toy, then Dildar flipped around and engulfed Hassan's with his throat, which left his own flopping in his lover's face.  Hassan took the love handle down his throat also.  They experimented with every means of achieving the desired results; licking up and down, sucking on the balls, licking under the balls, until they reverted to sucking up and down the shaft, going deeper with each downward thrust.  It didn't take long for the two young studs to reach the point of no return.  One last time, Dildar went all the way to base as the sweet-salty taste invaded his throat; he pulled up until only the head was in his mouth and swallowed as fast as he could.  The first volley to hit his throat sent spasms through his body and he started pumping volumes of cum into his one-and-only's mouth.  Hassan also swallowed as fast as he could, but some ran down his chin.  They maintained their positions, sucking the last drop from the withering, monster cock they each had pumped dry.

Dildar turned around, leaned into Hassan so they could share the remains left on their tongues.  They dropped off to sleep in each other's arms, and not a care in the world.  

Grant and Majid shared a similar experience in their room next door.  They wrapped their legs around each other's head, putting each in a leg scissors, forcing his manhood into a waiting orifice.  Using their hands, they separated the other's rear entrance to the rosebud flower.  Slight rubbing with their fingers relaxed the tightly held opening, until slowly fingers made their way through for an exam not medically induced.  Farther and farther into the cavity they pressed their advantage, until they reached the Walnut of Nirvana.  A light touch produced the related urge until neither could maintain control.  A blast of liquid shot from their tightened ball-sacks, filling the waiting repository.  Soon they, too, were wrapped in muscular arms, sleeping the sleep of the sated.

About 6:00 p.m., Grant's phone beeped, he had a message: `Do you want your dinner hot or cold?'  He texted back: `Hot!  How long?'   Reply: `30 min'   Reply: `We'll be there'

Grant and Majid hopped out of bed.  Grant headed for the shower; Majid slipped on some shorts and knocked on Dildar and Hassan's door.  "Get your asses showered and ready for dinner – thirty minutes."

"On it," was the reply from inside the room.

Right on time all the men were freshened and looking hot in polo shirts and khakis with loafers.  When they got to the dining room, they got a surprise – another smokin' young man was carrying food from the kitchen. 

"Robbie!" Grant exclaimed.  "It's great to see you!"  Grant welcomed him with a handshake and a tight bear hug, which Robbie returned.  "Robbie, I want you to meet some very special friends from Iraq.  This is my cameraman, Majid Mustafa {spelled and then the sign which Greta created}; this little guy, if you can call him little, is Majid's cousin, Dildar Fadel; and this is Dildar's best friend, Hassan Hassan, same first and last name which is a tradition among many Arab families for the eldest son.  Guys, this is Greta's high school and college friend, Robbie Paul." 

Greta signed, and Grant interpreted aloud, "Not only friend, he is my fiancé.  We will marry next year."   Greta turned her diamond ring around, so everyone noticed the huge square diamond with a square sapphire and ruby, their birthstones, on either side.

Grant grinned real big and grabbed his sister in a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, then shook hands and gave Robbie another big hug.  The other guys gave Robbie a handshake and Greta a kiss on the cheek also. 

"No wonder this is a celebration dinner!  Any champagne on ice?"  Grant asked Greta, who grinned and nodded.  He went into the kitchen and found everything they needed on the serving cart, an antique that their Great-Aunt Phoebe referred to as a `Tea Cart.'  "Party time!" he shouted as he came through the swinging door.  Everyone toasted the future bride and groom, sat down to dinner, which Greta and Robbie brought to the table.  

The three Iraqi guys tried a taste of the ham, which had a brown sugar and apple sauce glaze.  They all loved it.  Once they got over the trepidation of eating forbidden meat, they had a slice of it along with their lamb chop.  During the dinner conversation, I suggested a buffet dinner on either Friday or Saturday night after Thanksgiving to celebrate the newly engaged couple.  Robbie could invite his college wrestling buddies and Greta would invite her college friends, and any other family and friends they would like to.  They would need to give me email addresses, so I could send Evites on the computer.  I would arrange for the Club, next door, to cater the event using our family recipes for various types of Thanksgiving type food.  Deep fried turkey sliced, cornbread dressing using Grandma Caroline's recipe, Mama's cranberry congealed salad, Greta's ham recipe, and the Club's `extra hearty' pumpkin pies.  We'd serve from the dining room and eat at card tables in the living room, den and office.  Cocktails at 6:00 and dinner at 7:00 Thanksgiving weekend.  Greta and Robbie loved the idea; they would get the email list this coming week, and we would get to meet Robbie's family and they us.

Dinner was over, we were stuffed like a Tom Turkey, and we got the leftovers put in the fridge and the dishwasher started.  Greta and Robbie went back to her cottage, and my guys settled in the den to recuperate and have an after-dinner drink. It seems my guys are becoming acclimated to a different way of life from what they were used to in Iraq.  They're beginning to accept that pork is not as unclean as it was in Old Testament days, nor is male-male sex an automatic death sentence, and moderate alcohol has some beneficial properties.  

The next morning, I called my agent to let him know I was not renewing my contract at GNN and was sending him a year's commission based on the new contract's terms.  Then Majid called his agent and gave him the same information.

After that, we all headed for a couple of the big banks to open accounts with each of them.  Majid and I both took $100,000.00 to J.P. Morgan-Chase and opened accounts there.  Then we went over to Citibank and opened accounts for the same amount.  My parents had a joint account at the old Bank of Bethesda which
Bank of America bought out.  Greta and I had our first savings accounts at Bank of Bethesda.  So, we went into the bank and talked with one of the officers whom I knew.  I transferred twenty thousand from my personal account to open accounts for Dildar and Hassan.  

From there we drove down Wisconsin Avenue to the Maryland DMV and picked up the Driver's Handbook and information about getting a driver's license for the three Iraqis.  A little farther down Wisconsin, a couple of blocks from Tenley Circle, is a Best Buy where we picked out four identical laptops, extra memory, and all the bells and whistles that one can get on a laptop.  Their Geeks told us we could come back in a couple of days and they would be ready with all the requirements downloaded.

We were getting hungry, so we walked the block to Subway for them to experience another American type of food.   After lunch, we went home.  The guys started reading their driving manual and Maji and I talked about plans for the Crystal Rainbow project. 

We called Jamal and Arman to join us in the office so that we were clear among all of us as to what to expect.   As their `gaydar' is so much better than ours, we needed them in on the plans from the start.  They appeared in all their jinn glory, bare torso with armbands around their biceps, and erections emphasized in the chiffon pants.  I guess they wanted our attention and appreciation!  I ignored their appearance and began what I wanted to say.

"The reason for this meeting is to discuss my fantasy of the foreseeable future.  I would like to acquire approximately one hundred acres of land in the south part of the United States that is predominately flatland beside a large body of water.  Having it next to the Gulf of Mexico may not be feasible, so a large lake would be the next best thing.  I would like for it to be near a very large metropolitan city. Perhaps Atlanta, Nashville, Memphis, Dallas-Fort Worth – a city with a large gay population that would be available to the services we would provide on what I'm calling, at the moment, Crystal Rainbow Ranch.  {Eventually, we dropped the `Ranch' part.}

"There would be six distinct parts to the ranch.  The main house for Maji and me, and a dozen staff members to oversee all the areas of the project.  A private club with a restaurant upstairs and a private basement for staff use. The club would have male strippers to entertain paying club members.  There would be a studio for Maji to make gay-themed videos.  By the water would be a gay resort with all the amenities one would want on a vacation get-away. Swimming, dining, fitness, orgy room.  There would be farmland for fresh vegetables year-round and flowers for our decoration year-round. This group would also be responsible for grounds maintenance of the full complex.

"And the largest area would be the apartments for all of the employees.  The dancers, bar and restaurant staff would be located closest to their work, and there would be a back drive to the club, away from the main entrance.  The horticulturists would reside in the area closest to the gardens.  The resort staff would have an area nearest the resort.  The house staff would have a dormitory on the castle grounds.

"You're wondering how we would get all the staff of qualified workers.  That's where we start as soon as we get the computers.  Maji, you, Dildar, Hassan and I will look through all the on-line photos of the hottest and best-looking physique models on the web.  We'll each take an ethnic background and go through pictures of hot studs from that ethnic group to pick the ones who turn us on the most.  Print screen of each prospect so we can find them again and how our devious jinn can find them.  The big guys will go after one muscle hunk each at a time, get a sample of DNA from them and clone them for our – uh – male harem."

Maji was sitting there with his mouth agape.  Even Jamal and Arman looked from me to each other several times, with the smiles on their faces getting bigger each time.  "Jamal, Arman, if Majid will agree with what I'm about to say, you two should really enjoy this part of the project.  IF – that's a big `I' and a big `F' – a big IF – IF you need to work together to get the DNA from a host hunk, it's fine with me.  You might need to show yourselves to someone, which would be okay with me too – IF you disguise yourselves by changing your hair style, or color, or lighten or darken your skin tone; grow a full beard, get a temporary tattoo.  Do you understand what I'm talking about? Maji, is that acceptable to you?"

Majid nodded his head as he replied, "It's cool with me, IF, as you said, it's necessary!"       

"We understand!" the jinn said together.

"We don't want you two pranksters going around creating havoc.  Use your best judgement, not just what you'd have fun doing.  Will you do that for us?"

Maji and I looked at our jinni in the eyes for a response.

"Yes, Master.  We will obey your orders and your wishes."

"And if there is a question about what to do, ask us before you do it."

"Yes, Master!"

"Any questions?"

"Yes, Masters, one question," Arman said.

"Can we suck you off now?" Jamal asked.

"Only if you can beat us on the mats," I answered them.

In the next damned second, all four of us were naked on the mats and the jinn were in a wrestling pose, with full erections leading the way. 

"We're ready to wrestle when you are, Master," our two unnatural super studs said as they moved toward us.

"Defend yourself," Majid told Arman.

The two approached us, picked us up and put us on our backs.  Then they spread our legs and dropped to their outstretched hands and began doing push-ups over us, keeping our growing cocks deep in their mouths.  They began rolling their tongues over our shlongs, then after a while they paused as they held us deep in their throats.  At this time, they moved their tongues to our balls, lathing them all over and pulling each into his mouth, taking both balls and the cock to manipulate them in the vast cavern that was their mouth.  Their movements were so coordinated, it was like they had rehearsed the routine a thousand times, or maybe they were using telepathy to work our danglers every way possible.  Then   when I thought I couldn't hold back any longer, Jamal pulled off my cock, leaving the balls floating on his tongue as it worked its way down to my perineum.  I was about to go crazy. 

I looked over at Maji and he was pumping Arman's mouth for all he was worth!  His legs were locked around the jinni's head while his hands had hands-full of hair forcing the head up and down as his cock was pumping in and out.  The scene playing out next to me sent me over the edge and I grabbed Jamal's head, holding it in place with my hands and legs as I unloaded all over the big guy's face with uncontrolled fountains of cum on his eyelids, his forehead, in his hair, even up his nostrils.  His tongue reached all the way to my hole and was fucking it as I was drying up from the explosion.

Maji saw my blasts spreading all over Jamal and he froze with his monster cyclops crammed down Arman's throat as far as it would go, unloading what might have been unbelievable amounts of cum down the big man's gullet.  I looked at Arman and could have sworn I saw tears in his eyes. 

Nah!                Not possible.              Could it be?

Oh, man!  What an experience!  The jinn lay down beside us, holding us in their arms and smothering us with kisses.  Somehow, both of them smelled beautifully fresh, as if they had just stepped out of the shower.  There was no indication of any exertion visible anywhere on them.  Maji and I were exhausted and the next thing we knew, we were in our bed and apparently had had showers.   We kissed and slept the sleep of incredibly satisfying orgasms.

* * * * * * *

The three Iraqis and I walked into Best Buy right after they opened the day we were told to return.  Their Geeks were running a final test on the laptops to verify they would do all we needed, so we walked around the store looking at the tremendous variety of things they have for sale.  My guys were overwhelmed with all that was there and could have spent the entire day just browsing, and probably a day's supply of money as well.  About thirty minutes later, we were paged to the Geek Squad's area.  The tech told us that everything was working perfectly on all of them, but if we had any problems to give him a call.  We left with our prizes and headed home. 

In the office, we set up two card tables from Mom and Dad's bridge club days, and I used my desk.  We each took a continent and looked for `nude/naked muscle hunks/bodybuilders' of whatever countries and/or major cities of that region.  After about an hour of this visual stimulation, Greta announced lunch and we headed for the dining room.  After lunch, we went back to "work" (if you can call this "work"), viewing each other's selections.  Oh maann! The heat coming from the monitors had us on overload.  Maji and I had an unusual sensation, a feeling, something we couldn't explain.  Then we realized it was the close presence of Jamal and Arman, although we couldn't see them. 

"Jamal, Arman, show yourselves!" I commanded.

They appeared, stretched out on the couch with Arman on top of Jamal, pounding his ass as rough as you could imagine.  Their tongues were extended farther than we'd ever seen them, having a tongue sword fight; parries, counter parries, doubl'es – all while Arman kept pounding.  Damn!  Just watching them got us all hot and we had to take matters into our own hands and do some pumping of our own.  Hassan and Dildar shot their loads first and the two jinn turned their faces toward the two young studs, wrapped their tongues around the tips of the ejaculating pair, taking their full loads and swallowing them. 

This was too much for Maji and me!  We started hyperventilating and two unbelievably long tongues reached out to us and took our loads also.  All of us were drained, of energy and l'homme-crème.  We sat there with our flaccid cocks hanging out as both jinn began their low-rumbling moans.  We could see Jamal's hand pumping faster and then his seed shot into the air.  Again, their tongues set up dueling for the prize.  Each got a goodly amount as Arman stopped pounding and shot blast after blast up his lover's colon.  He continued moaning as he loaded the waiting receptacle with a seemingly infinite amount of his ejaculate.  He leaned down and ran his extremely elongated tongue up Jamal's open cave, lapping up what he had just deposited.  Then they shared the remains of Arman's labors.

They smiled at us — and disappeared.

The four of us decided we needed some rest, closed the computers and went to bed – too tired for any more fun and gaymes!

After dinner, the four of us went back to the computers to make some more selections from around the world.  I looked for some "little men" to portray elves at Christmas, New Year's babies, Cupids for Valentine's Day, and Leprechauns for St. Patrick's Day, then during the rest of the year they could keep busy as bar-backs at the club and resort.  They could also perform in some of Maji's videos. 

The guys we are looking for, of course, would be hot, sexy, and built to the max!  They would staff all our various ventures and would double as actors in the videos.  We would need bartenders, food servers, cooks, dancers, security, house and resort attendants, landscapers, flower and vegetable gardeners, electricians, handymen, production crew for the video endeavor, and that's just a start.  We could have more than a couple of hundred hot, sexy, very strong, hung, muscular men on our staff, trained as we want them; attitudes and personalities to be convivial with everyone, honest, loyal and trustworthy {so, we're `men' scouts, pre-pubescent `boys' don't interest us; and you won't find any on our computers}, plus respectful of everyone's religious/ethnic/moral beliefs.  All our men will be bi-sexual, equally attracted to women as men and will be more than able and ready to perform with everyone. {Or should I say, omni-sexual?}  Each will have the strength, energy and stamina of three men their size.

All the men will have other extraordinary attributes that will be jinn-derived.  While their `manhood' will be varied, as all men are, none will be less than eight inches nor more than thirteen inches, and of variable thickness.  Their pre-cum, in addition to its usual attributes, will have an anesthetic that will desensitize the nerves of the throat, vagina or rectum.  It will allow ease of entry to any of the three without undue pain or discomfort, regardless of the size of the penis.  All three will adjust to accommodate the greatest pleasure for both partners. 

The men will be totally disease free and incapable of contracting or dispensing any disease.  Their cum will totally eradicate any sexually transmitted disease by any of their partners.  One injection by our guys will cure "whatever ails you."  They will maintain maximum erection, once they reach it, until shooting their entire supply.  They will be capable of another erection in half an hour and emitting another full load within an hour.  Their ejaculate will be totally sterile – no babies allowed!

{Let me know if you have other attributes to add to their sexual talents and abilities!}

But before we get to the fun stuff and establish our stable of studs, we need a place to put these muffins.  The jinn will look at several sites in the subtropics, where the weather is more conducive to a nudist enclave, because ours will be totally clothing optional – even in the middle of winter.  {I'll opt for clothes in the coldest temperatures!}  We'll need architects to draw up the plans and our magical duo will set up meetings with some `family' members to give them our ideas.

Our jinn gave us a list of architects from various firms around the world who could complete the job we wanted done.  We called each one, asking if they would be interested in working on the project, or have the time to take it on exclusively.  We ended up with twelve from major architectural firms whom we flew to Washington for a conference.  All the men are fluent in English so that did not become a problem.  They had individual suites at the Marriott in the Pooks Hill area of Bethesda, and I reserved a conference room for the week there where we could meet privately.  The evening that they all arrived, we used that room for a traditional `Washington Casual' cocktail party.  {Slacks, open collar shirt and sport coat.}  Everyone was very congenial, and I think they realized they were among `family.' 

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:  The jinn know how to pick smokin' hunks for us to work with!  Every one of them was gorgeous and built like a brick shit-house!  We got to know each other a bit, and how they interacted afterward was up to them.  They could pair up or go to dinner in groups.  Most of them ate at the restaurant in the hotel, since I was paying.

The next morning, we met together and went over the outlines of what we wanted to accomplish with the Crystal Rainbow.  Everyone took up the challenge of the area where their interest lay.  Of course, there were some who duplicated each other, but most areas were taken by a couple of guys each. The farm and general layout however was picked by only one man.  Then Maji and I took questions about the castle, the resort, the nightclub/diner, the studio, the apartments, and the general layout. 

The stretch limo was waiting for us when we were ready to go to lunch.  We had reservations for the sixteen of us at Black's Bar and Kitchen in Bethesda. 

That afternoon, Maji and I took a pair of architects to discuss their individual project.  Maji worked with the men designing the studio and what his needs would be.  I took the pair working on the castle, so we set up at either end of the double conference room.  Dildar and Hassan spent about half an hour with each of us, switching off a while. After about one and a half hours, we took a break and the guys went back to their rooms for some rest.  When the four of us got back from a bathroom break, the other two pairs were waiting for us to discuss the plans for the resort and nightclub/diner. 

Then at four o'clock, we met with Kago Okafor, the only one working on the overall layout of the ranch.  He had some sketches for the way he thought it might be organized, gleaned from our discussion that morning.  It was pretty much in tune with what we were thinking.  I was impressed with the entrance he had sketched; a divided two-lane road with a planted area of flowering shrub and trees all the way from the entrance to the back of the property.  The drives to each of the facilities would have their own "entryway" to that facility.  The arch at the property entrance would be a rainbow of color spelling out, "Crystal Rainbow Ranch."  A similar arch would be at the road leading to each site.  "Crystal Rainbow Club." "Crystal Rainbow Resort." "Crystal Rainbow Homes." "Crystal Rainbow Studios." "Crystal Rainbow Gardens." "Crystal Rainbow Castle." 

By the time he finished his presentation, we were all overwhelmed at his creativity.  Dildar suggested a guard house at the front entrance for two security guards to keep each other company and one always there when the other needed to use the facility or take a lunch break.  Include a small lunch room and toilet at the rear of the building, which everyone agreed was an excellent suggestion.  He also suggested an iron fence running a hundred yards on either side of the entry road, and then cameras every hundred yards around the entire perimeter of the land.  Hassan suggested planting two or three rows of tall evergreen trees, like the ones that grow in Lebanon, so that no person nor large animal could get between them easily; a natural barrier to trespassers around the entire property and ecologically beneficial as well.  He suggested that we knew a couple of guys who could arrange planting ten-year-old trees all around the place.  Maji, Dildar and I just nodded our heads.  "Good thought, Hassan!"

We wrapped up the meetings for the day, sent word to the rest of the visitors that the limo would pick them up at six-thirty to take them to dinner and we would meet them at La Ferme Restaurant on Brookville Road at seven.  One of my high school and church friends had grown up in the house that used to stand on that location, but the family had sold the property in the early 1980's and the site became an outstanding restaurant.  I hadn't eaten there in several years and looked forward to seeing what changes had been made recently. 

The next morning, we all met to share what suggestions everyone had for the project.  One of the guys specialized in restaurant design so we suggested that he share some thoughts about kitchen layout with the resort and castle teams, as well as working on the diner's kitchen over the nightclub. 

After a break, Maji got together with the studio design pair and worked with them on the various needs of the studio.  I spent some time with the palace couple, pointing out some specifics I'd like to see in it.  Hassan and Dildar talked with the housing team, suggesting how they saw several clusters of townhouses for each of the primary use of each work group; dancers in one cluster, food and bar services in another cluster, security in another, landscaping and gardening in their own area near the gardens' site, etc.  Each cluster would have a very different exterior appearance, so they could be used as settings for videos.

They mentioned to Kago that a perimeter drive circumventing the property might be beneficial for easy access to all facilities and avoid visitor traffic on the main road.  Kago included storage buildings on the outer side of the drive between the gardening area and the apartments, designed to fit into the general theme of designs.  We all agreed that each separate entity compliment the others in theme, following the design of the castle — or maybe we should think of it more as a palace. Crystal Rainbow Palace? Crystal Palace? There will be as much glass as stone. Hmmm?

The resort would have a similar façade at the entrance, and there would be six levels, with a color of the rainbow featured on each level.  The patio/balcony lights would be of those colors and would set an ambiance from across the river.

For the nightclub, the crystal rainbow effect would begin at ground level to the roof-line then make the arch from one corner to the other across the front of the building.  The resort guys liked that idea and incorporated it into the entrance façade also. 

At this point, Maji and I were about to cream in our pants with excitement.  Hassan told us, "Get a room!"  Dildar replied, "We've got a room here.  Lock the doors and get the orgy started!"  The visitors looked stunned.  But they also looked as if they liked the idea.  "Look, stud-horse, keep those hormones under control.  We'll have an orgy when this operation is up and running," I told him.  That got a good laugh from the architectural group, and a look of relief. 

"We will have a grand opening with invitation only for those who will have played an important role in the project.  We'll probably fill the resort with guests like you guys, and the castle with dignitaries who have been influential in getting this to work.  Let's relax for the afternoon.  Get some lunch here, or if you want to try some other place in the area, and do some looking around town, please feel free.  Here's a hundred bucks each for food and taxi service.  If you need more than that, I'll pony up at dinner.  See you all at seven o'clock at the Capital Grille.  Enjoy the afternoon."

The twelve men left, and I turned to my three pals, saying, "Let's get home.  I'm hungry for some Tube Steak Au Crème.  An orgy, my right nut!"  

We went home and found a note from Greta saying she had gone shopping downtown and had left turkey salad and egg salad in the fridge, and we knew where the beer was stashed.  We chowed down, then took a nice walk around the neighborhood for about a half an hour, then back home.  We went to the basement for a workout on the mats.  Since Greta would be gone, we stripped completely and enjoyed our wrestling orgy.  We switched partners for wrestling, some preliminary face-fucking and playing with some different prostates.  Periodically, some unseen force would interfere with our matches, moving us to a new partner unexpectedly.  Horny jinn fuckers!  That was part of the fun that afternoon, but we got back to our real partners to share our crème de la crème!  Then it was to bed for some needed rest.

Dinner at the Capital Grille was nice and relaxed.  Little talk about the project and we learned a lot about each other.  By this time everyone was comfortable with each other; we understood where our personal attractions were; and it seemed that the men who were working together as a pair were enjoying their personal relationships as well.  Kago Okafor, the South African landscape designer, and Charles-Arthur Bouchard, the Parisian kitchen designer, had developed a relationship which seemed to mesh nicely. 

{I love it when a plan comes together!}

* * * * * * *

We made really good progress on the plans for the ranch in the week we worked together.  The guys could go back home and continue with fine details for each of their projects.  The last night they would be in town, I had them all together at the club next door to my house for drinks and then dinner.  After dinner, we walked over to the house and relaxed for a while. 

While touring the house, we ended up downstairs in the rec-room.  The mats of course were ready for use, and a couple of the architects asked if we ever use them.  I replied, "Several times a week." So naturally, I asked if they ever wrestled and both replied, "Yes."  Maji retorted, "Anytime you're ready to defend your virginity, just let us know."  That got a laugh from everyone.  The others indicated they had wrestled in school but not since then.  Dildar let them know he and Hassan would be glad to give a-no-holds-barred refresher course whenever they wanted. 

"Be sure you know what you're asking for from men you do not know well," Koji Nakamura told him.  "I have black belts in Aikido, Karate, and Ninjutsu.  I also use grappling as needed."

"I do not grapple much but have black belts in Jeet Kune Do and Kung Fu, and I am a teacher in Tai Chi," Zhao Erli interjected.

"The time I spent in the Israeli military taught me some nifty moves from our Krav Maga training.  I'll be glad to show you some, if you think you're up to it," Myron Finkelstein from Tel Aviv offered, with a smile on his face and in his voice.

"I'll take you up on that sometime," Björne Holmström from Malmö, Sweden, spoke up.

"You're on, big guy, anytime you're ready," Myron replied.

"What about now?" the Swedish hunk asked.

"How do you want it?"

"Right here, right now, on these mats will be good!" Björne responded.

The two men matched up rather well; Björne was about 6-foot-2, 225 pounds, with a ripped body.  The Israeli ex-soldier was my height, 6-foot and probably 210, solid enough, but beefier than the Swede. 

"Hold it right there!" I interrupted.  "House Rules!  No one gets hurt in any match-up, and second, clothes are not allowed on the mats.  So — it's totally nude or it doesn't happen here!"

That stopped both men briefly.  The other architects looked at me surprised at the second rule, but after a few seconds they had various comments, like:  

"Alright!"         "I've got to see this!"         "Strip them off!"         "Woof!"

"What'll it be?" I asked. 

The potential combatants began stripping, then paused when they got to their underwear.  "Everything!" I reminded them.  Then off came the undies, showing both men already fluffed.  Myron was rather hirsute all over, with a good eight thick inches standing up in front of him.  Björne had blond fur across his chest and down his stomach to a full thatch of blond curls surrounding nearly nine inches of uncut cock. 

{Should be an interesting climax – pun intended – if Myron loses the match.}

Björne feinted an attack anticipating that Myron would move for a pass which he did and Björne countered, which surprised Myron, but recovered in time to lock into Björne for a take-down.  Now it was the big Swede who was surprised how fast his opponent countered and reversed.  He was on his side with the Israeli going for a choke.  He tucked his chin just in time to prevent being taken out in the move, and grabbed hard for the groin, squeezing at the same time.  Myron released the choke as Björne brought his right arm up in the air and slammed his elbow into the right kidney.  In the next second, he was on his feet and knee dropped in the same spot in Myron's side.  Björne got his own sleeper hold on Myron, and the Middle Eastern bear tapped out.  Björne released his victim, then helped him to his feet. 

"The third house rule is that the loser gets fucked by the winner," I told them, smiling.

They embraced, and immediately realized they both were showing pre-cum from extremely hard cocks.   Björne went to his knees and began sucking on the up-curved, circumcised manhood to show respect for the embarrassed warrior.  Some of the other men were feeling each other and soon cocks were out, and half were on their knees in front of a partner.  The fighters got into a "69" position to enjoy the culmination of their battle.  Myron took the uncircumcised Swede all the way to the base, with no hint of rejecting the uncut penis.  Soon everyone else was enjoying a suck-fest, and their clothes were lying around the room.  After their initial relief, they redressed, took the limo back to the hotel for another round of fun and `gaymes,' get some sleep and be ready to fly out of DC later the next day.  Maji, Dildar, Hassan and I went up to our rooms and enjoyed our second round also.

The next afternoon, the four of us drove out to Dulles International to give our guests a good send-off.  I reserved a VIP suite where we could relax before the flights.  Since they were going in all different directions, their flights left all through the evening and night.  The VIP suite has accommodations for a nap, shower, drinks, meals – anything a traveler might need on layover.  There were snacks, sandwiches, coffee, tea, a wet-bar, soft drinks.  It was a delightful opportunity to enjoy their company and allow them some time to say `good-bye' privately.  I was surprised they were as emotional as they were.  Myron and Björne apparently had become very attached in the past twenty-four hours and promised each other to stay in touch.  The same was true with Kago and Charles-Arthur.  I told Kago that I was planning to get a member of the PGA to design a nine or eighteen-hole golf course with a practice driving range and putting green for the resort and would be in touch about that.  It would be for club members and resort guests, as well as our staff. 

{I know!  I know!  Nobody in the PGA is out, but some might just be less homophobic for a couple million extra dollars.  I'll start with a one million bonus to see where it gets me, then up it if I must.}

By 3:00 a.m. everyone was headed home, including the four of us.  We were near Reston, VA, on 267 when I posed a couple of questions to the other guys. 

"Of the twelve men we have just put on flights, which would you most want to hit on and which would you rather not have hit on you?"

All three replied "Finkelstein" would be the one they would reject his advances.  And all three agreed his supercilious attitude turned them off.

Hassan elaborated, "I really am glad he got his ass beaten last night in front of everybody.  He thought he was so high and mighty that nobody could get the best of him."

Dildar added, "I wish Holmström had rammed his ass with no mercy."

"While I'm not really turned on by grizzly bears, he does have an impressive piece of meat standing up between his other legs," Maji commented.  "Probably about the size of Arman's, or bigger."

"I heard that!" exclaimed a disembodied voice.

"You two, show yourselves – now!" I commanded.  "Did you have anything to do with the outcome of that match-up last night?"

"Yes, Master," the two replied in unison.  "We guided the big blond man in his moves," Jamal said. "And prevented the Jew from moving faster," added Arman.

I was getting more and more angry by the minute.  "You two picked this man to work for us and then do this to him?  If I could, I would beat the living shit out of you two!  You — will — regret — this — I assure you!  Now get back in your ring, both of you, and stay there until we call you.  And you will make amends to Myron, regardless of how distasteful it is for you Persians!  Do you understand?  Jamal?" 

"Arman?" Maji said.

"Yes, Master," they both said, then disappeared into our rings in a puff of smoke.

There was total silence in the car the rest of the way home.

* * * * *

With Thanksgiving and Christmas coming soon, we put our project on the back burner for a while as we planned Greta and Robbie's engagement party for Thanksgiving weekend and then a Christmas party for friends and family a couple of weeks later.  Our Muslim friends will learn about the Christmas traditions here in America, and our Persian jinn will remain snuggled in their cozy human-sized rings.

The Christmas party was set for the Saturday night a week before Christmas.  Many of our parents' friends were invited, including Cal and Mildred Staunton; their son, Howie and his fiancée, Krissy Jenifer; Jim Guthrie would be home from Iraq by then; family friends who were also members of the Club next door; a couple of very close friends of my dad who were also members of the Army & Navy Town Club; and some additional couples who played bridge, canasta and samba (a card game similar to canasta, but using three full decks of cards) with my parents were also invited.  Several of my high school classmates were on the B-CC Rescue Squad and the Fire Department, so they were included, along with members of the GNN staff.  The jinn had given my Arab friends an intensive indoctrination with sign language and they were able to interpret for Greta and Robbie fluently.  Some of their closest friends were included also on the guest list.  The Club catered the affair and I arranged with some of the Army & Navy Club staff to help serve for us.

It was great seeing everyone again because it had been a couple of years since I had been home at Christmas.  Jim assaulted me immediately as he came in the house demanding a rematch before the night was over.  I capitulated with the stipulation that every bottle of alcohol had to be drunk before I would agree to it.  He gave me a tight bear hug, lifting me off my feet then slamming me back on the floor, rocking my entire skeleton.  Howie had just gotten a drink and came to my rescue.  I introduced the two hunks which took Jim's attention away from me so I could sneak away.  

As the evening went on, I made the rounds of guests trying to touch base with everyone.  Several were interested in chatting with Majid, Dildar and Hassan, apparently curious about their being included in the group.  Cal was one who spent time talking with them and their interest in becoming American citizens.  They had been indoctrinated sufficiently in American-English that only their accents made it obvious they were from the middle east.

Aunt Millie took the opportunity to talk with me, expressing regret not being able to do more for Greta and me when our parents were killed.  Her conversation got around to Cal's and my dad's close relationship.  She asked if I knew just how close they were and about their intimacy, which I acknowledged I learned about it from Cal when we met in Bagdad.  I asked how she found out and did my mother know. 

She related the circumstances about how the two wives found out at the same time.

It was a Saturday and Katy had Beverly Allen, Ginger Hopkins and me over here for bridge.  Craig and Cal were up at the lake, as they usually were when the weather and lake water were warm enough that they could go in swimming.  Katy mentioned that this was the second week in a row when they had taken off for the mountains and spent Saturday night at the lake cabin.  Beverly and Ginger looked at each other.  Then Ginger commented that she and Dan had taken their boat up there and Bev and Harvey had gone with them for the weekend.  Bev said that they had seen Cal and Craig skinny-dipping at the lake, acting like teenage boys.  Bev added that they were wrestling, trying to toss each other in the lake.  But they would both end up going in at the same time.  One time, Cal lost his balance and fell in the water and Craig pulled him back on the dock.  Then Ginger said that the strangest thing happened.  When Craig got Cal back on the dock, – they embraced – and – then they kissed, full on the lips – and naked!  Bev said they didn't mean to be spying, but they saw them on our dock, and would have gone down to speak to them, but without swimsuits and it wasn't but a few minutes, and then the kissing... Then Ginger said that Dan put the boat in gear and headed in the opposite direction.  And Beverly added that they all agreed to never mention it again to anyone...  But when Katy mentioned that they were up there, she thought we must know about...

Katy, being the consummate hostess that she was, excused herself, saying she would get the refreshments.  I followed her into the kitchen, having told the others I would help her.  She was as shocked as I was.  We decided to wait until the two of them got home to get to the bottom of this.  I confronted Cal as Katy did your dad.  They both said the kiss was simply an impulse after your dad pulled Cal out of the lake, and so was the skinny-dipping.  They saw Dan's boat but did not realize it was his or that all four of them saw the whole episode.  They both denied anything like that had ever happened before or would again.  So, your mother and I let the subject drop and never mentioned it again.  Their weekend trips to the lake continued, so I don't know what they did together after that, if anything.  And frankly, I don't want to know.  Cal has not been the same since Craig and Katy were killed.  We don't use the lake cottage anymore and may sell it, unless Howie and Krissy want to buy it.

I gave Aunt Millie a big hug and told her, "I appreciate your sharing that with me.  I can't say just how close they were, but I do know they both loved you and Mom as much as possible.  That old saying about the water over the dam is just that.  It's all over and done with.  I know you miss Mom as much as Cal misses Dad.  And you'll always be my `Aunt Millie.'"  I kissed her on the cheek and gave her a big hug as Howie and Krissy came up to us.

"Well Mom, are you going to hog our host's attention all evening or can he share his charm with some of the rest of us?"

"I haven't had the chance to talk with Grant in over a year.  So, Howard, you can have your turn now.  Krissy, that dress is spectacular, and you look stunning."

Krissy walked off with Mildred, so Howie and I had a chance to talk.

"I see that Mom was bending your ear.  Probably about our dad's intimacies.  When did you find out about that?"

"When I saw him in Bagdad some three or four months ago.  We had a heart to heart talk and that's when I learned about just what their `friendship' involved.  I didn't know about the lake incident.  Cal was very amenable to helping me get my cameraman, his cousin and his best friend over here with visitors' visas, and then if they are interested, permanent citizenship.  You know, what happens in Bagdad, stays in Bagdad!"

"I hope you put it to him really rough; he likes it like that," Howie said.

"How do you know?"

"I caught them together once and your dad was using him the way he likes it."

I'm sure the surprise showed on my face.  "How long have you known?"

"A couple of years, or so."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"What was I going to do – send you an email with a picture?  Come on, cuz, you've been bouncing all over the world and I never got a chance to sit down with you and discuss our dads' sexual intimacies.  Especially not at the funeral.  And besides, what would you have done?"

"I don't know.  Maybe return the favor!"

"In your dreams! They were grown men.  They're both older than we are and were supposed to set the example for us.  Besides, I didn't want Mom to find out because she would be the one hurt by it.  Although I'm sure it had to hurt Dad the first time Uncle Craig plowed into him with that horse-sized monster he carried around." 

"Scheeze-Louise, Howie!"

"Sorry, Grant," Howie said as he put his hand on my shoulder.  "It hasn't been easy carrying that big secret around all this time, although I've signed my government confidentiality oath.  But hey, I'll always have your back when you need it.  You can share things with me anytime and they'll go no farther.  You know I think the world of you, like the little brother I never had."

"Thanks, Howie.  I feel the same about you, big bro.  I think I've always loved you – think brotherly love — not in love with you.  But to change the subject, how are the wedding plans coming along?"

"Only six months away.  We'll be married in Annapolis.  Her family goes back to the seventeenth century in Maryland.  We met at a Sigma Chi – Tri-Delt party at Maryland and things developed from there.  You will be holding me up through it, won't you?"

"Oh, I'll be beside you through the entire ceremony, and I can hardly wait for the Best Man's toast!  Where's the reception going to be?

"At her parents' home in the Colonial Manor area."

"Have you met my guests from Iraq?" I motioned for Maji to come over to us.  "Howie, this is Majid, my cameraman in Iraq, and now my very special friend."

Howie's eyes opened wide.  He looked back and forth between Maji and me.  "Are you telling me something I should know?"

"That depends on how you take some possibly unexpected news."

Wagging his finger back and forth between us, he asked, "You two are — an `item?'"

"You might call it that.  We might take off for Canada to make it `legal,' since it's not `legal' here in the states."

"Do Dad and Mom know?  Does Greta know?"

"Your dad might suspect as I hinted at it in Bagdad, but I've not told anyone outright.  You're the first I've talked with about it, other than the two of us," indicating Maji.  Greta might have a good idea of what's going on, but we've not discussed it specifically."

"Well, I'm surprised, and happy for both of you."  He shook our hands.

Dildar and Hassan walked up to us about then.  "Dildar is Majid's cousin and Hassan is Dildar's lifelong best friend."  Howie shook both their hands.

"Are you two ...?"  They both nodded. 

Howie looked at me and I nodded, then replied, "Also confidential.  Your dad's supposed to fast track citizenship for all three of them if they decide to become Americans at the end of their six-month visitor's visa.  It's the only way for it to work out."

"I think I need another drink!"

"Let me know if I need to go to the Club to replenish the bottles," I grinned.

Jim Guthrie approached and asked if we could have a private conversation – downstairs. 

"When everyone leaves, if you really think you're up to it," I told him.  Then I explained to the others, "I whipped Jim's ass in Bagdad and he's demanding a rematch."

"This I've got to see!" Howie said.  "I'll take Krissy back to the Tri-Delt house and be back here in an hour.  Don't start without me!"

"Howie, you don't know what you're asking.  You may not want to get involved in this situation," I replied.

"What situation?" Howie's fiancée, Krissy, asked as she approached the group.

"Krissy, this is Jim Guthrie; Krissy Jenifer, Howie's fiancée," I introduced the two.  "Jim is with the State Department.  We got into a discussion before I left Bagdad, and he wants to continue the discussion this evening while we're together.  Howie wants to analyze the situation as we proceed with alternative possible outcomes — if you don't mind too much."

"Well, I was hoping to have some more time alone with my big, hunky Howie this evening — but if it's really that important for him to be involved, I guess it'll have to be okay for me to spend the rest of the evening at the House all by myself," she whined, looking up at Howie with puppy dog eyes. 

The rest of us were rolling our eyes!

"I'll come back to see you tomorrow, baby doll.  And I'll be back here in an hour."

"We'll see you then," I told Howie.  "Good night, Krissy.  And have a very Merry Christmas," I said in my most saccharine voice.

I went back to my guests as some were preparing to leave, and others were still chatting with each other.  The Iraqis were becoming more comfortable interacting with the Americans.  They also were amazing in conversing with the deaf group.  It made me very proud to see them adapting so easily.

The last of the guests left except for Jim, and we all helped the wait-staff clean up and store leftovers in the fridge, dishes in the dishwasher and trash in bags which my three guys took to the trash receptacle outside.  Greta and Robbie went over to her cottage, the wait-staff received generous tips and left, so all who were left were the five of us.  We locked all the doors and went downstairs.

"You really want to do this?" I asked Jim.

"You bet your sweet ass I do," he replied as he rubbed my backside.

"Alright! Everyone, strip!" I said.

Everyone did, and then we heard a door open and close upstairs.  Howie had used his key to let himself in.  He opened the door at the top of the stairs and got about half way down before saw all of us in our naked glory.  Five hot, muscular men, all with impressive erections looking at him.

"What the hell?!" he exclaimed as he stopped midway on the stairs.

"Welcome to the Orgy Room, dear cousin!  You can leave your clothes on that chair at the foot of the steps."

"I'm not leaving my clothes anywhere but on my body.  And I'm not getting involved in your fuckin' gay orgy!" Howie stated firmly.

"You wanted to watch Jim whip my ass, so here we are waiting for you to get changed into the dress of the day."

"You have got to be joking!  You were wrestling nude — in Bagdad?"

Jim answered him, "We would never think of doing that, which is why we brought the competition to the USA.  You did say you wanted to watch me pin his ass, so get with the program, Staunton."

"Come on, Howie.  I know for a fact you're not a prude, nor are you ashamed of your body.  So, let's see it.  I think it's already making a tent in your pants." 

"If this ever gets out of this room, I will not be responsible what happens to any of you — including you — Gerald!" Howie warned us, using my first name.

 "Jim and I agreed that what happened in Bagdad, stayed in Bagdad.  Likewise, what happens in this basement stays in this basement.  Does that meet with your approval?" I asked him.

"Damn!  Against my better judgement ..." Howie conceded.  He laid his clothes on the chair at the bottom of the stairs, keeping his Jockey tapered boxers on, but not realizing his cyclops was peeking through the spread fly.

"Hmmm, looks impressive.  I'll pick him as my partner for the evening!" Maji said suggestively, as he rubbed his own impressive cock.

"Alright," I said.  "First competition, Mercy.  The one who goes to his knees sucks the winner. Howie, get those shorts off unless you're sure Maji can take you down."

"No way he's gonna take me down, and I'm not sucking that firehose either," Howie exclaimed as he shed his skivvies and released his own thick eight-incher.  He locked hands with Maji and they started their contest of strength.  Howie had a couple of inches height and probably twenty pounds weight on Maji, but the cameraman is exceptionally strong from carrying around video equipment, and could hold his own – for a time, but Howie's gym work-out regimen began to take over and Maji's knees started to buckle.  He tried to use his massive legs to push himself back up, but Howie had the leverage and Maji went to his knees.  Howie's fully erect cock was directly in his face, wiggling up and down.  Maji acknowledged his defeat and reached out with his tongue to lick the precum off the magnificent cockhead waving before him. 

Howie was caught up in the moment and pressed forward, aiming directly for his victim's mouth.   Maji leaned in and rolled his tongue around the perfectly shaped head and worked his way down the long, thick cut shaft.  Howie seemed to forget that he was planning to be married in a few months, or that he had a fiancée at all.  He was totally absorbed in the action, and Maji was doing an expert job of cocksucking.  Howie began a pumping motion, going deeper into Maji's throat until Maji was taking the whole eight inches with each forward motion.  Then Howie stopped pumping and Maji stayed totally still until the fountain exploded down his throat when he backed off until just the head was in his mouth.  He was swallowing as fast as he could with each powerful ejaculation.  When they were finished, Howie's legs gave `way with him and he collapsed on the mat as the rest of us were clapping and cheering for the first twosome on the mat. 

Maji looked at me, both of us smiling.  He winked at me and I flashed him the ASL sign.

Hassan and Dildar started chanting: "Grant and Jim! – Grant and Jim! – Grant and Jim!"  Then I announced, "Total submission tap-out."  Then Jim and I went after each other.

We locked up and Jim looked me in the eyes and said, "Don't even think about the crotch grab – I'm ready for that attempt."  This time he spun me around and put the bear hug under my arms and moved his feet back a step which left my arms free for another move.  I raised them while wiggling my body, making him think I would slide to the mat.  Instead, I locked both hands together around his head and suddenly raised my legs straight out, pulling him further off balance and flipped him over as we both went to the mat, so he ended up on his back – stunned.  I fell flat on top of him, sliding my right leg under his head and locking it with my left leg.  I leaned forward to tighten the pressure with my thighs, but he countered by raising his legs to the point he could get them around my head and put me in a headlock.  Jim pulled my head down into his crotch, face right in his cock and balls.  I slid my legs tighter around his head, securing his face in my groin. 

About that time, I saw Dildar carefully slip up the stairs, then he knocked on the door leading to the basement.  Jim reacted to the noise.  He released my head and began really struggling to get out of the headlock I had on him.  The weight of my body had him pinned, along with his face sucking my cock.  He was really fighting to get free, fearing someone else would see him in a very compromising position.  By this time Dildar had come back down the stairs, and Jim saw him. 

"Did you do that?" he yelled, while everyone else was laughing.  "You bastard, I'll have your visa revoked now!" He turned to me, yelling, "You knew what he was doing, didn't you?  I will plow your ass before this night is over!"

Jim grabbed me in a judo hold and slammed me to the floor.  He followed that with a knee drop which doubled me up.  While I was trying to recover from that blow, he grabbed my legs, turned me on my stomach and put me in a Boston Crab hold.  He backed up, taking my legs with him until I was doubled up backwards.  He planted his feet at my shoulders, his toes wedged under the shoulders.  Then he started to lean over backwards until his head was on the floor.  I couldn't believe he was still that limber, at his age.  I was hollering in agony and tapping out with both hands.  Finally, using my legs for leverage, he raised himself to a standing position.   Turning me over and putting one foot on my chest, he flexed, beat his chest, then kneeled over me, grabbing my head with one hand and ramming his cock down my throat, commanding, "Suck it, bitch!"

I began sucking on the semi-flaccid cock, which started its spurt of growth.  Soon it was filling my mouth and throat.  As it lengthened, it pushed out of my mouth, too much to fit in the space.  While Jim was concentrating on that, Maji was greasing the hole at my other end, knowing it would be well used before the evening was over. 

After an eternity, or maybe just five minutes, he pulled out, stood up, grabbed my legs, putting them over my head and without any warning rammed all the way in my anal orifice.  Thank goodness for Maji's attention or I would have been bleeding from the intrusion.  He rammed it for another ten minutes – or was it an eternity – before he let loose like Old Faithful, spouting all the way up my colon. 

When Jim pulled out, he turned to Dildar, showing his hostility, "I'm not finished with you yet either!" 

Fortunately, Howie came to the rescue, because Dildar was terrified of what Jim might do to him.  Not just fucking him but fucking all three of the Iraqis out of their visas and even possible American citizenship.  Howie spoke up, "Take it easy, Guthrie.  Dildar was just doing what I wanted him to – so if you want to take it out on somebody, here I am, ready for you."  They looked at each other, Jim glaring, Howie determined.  "You want to kiss and make up?"

"Yes, I do," Jim replied.  He leaned over and grabbed Howie, planting a full, lip-lock kiss on him.  Then he made his mistake and tried to force his tongue between Howie's lips, for a deep French kiss. Howie began to struggle to get away, but Jim had him in a firm headlock.  Howie did the next best thing he could do which was slamming both fists into Jim's sides.  That got Jim's attention.  He followed up with a hard left and right punch to the chest which put Jim on his back.  Howie started to mount him, so he could pound him with his fists.  Maji and I grabbed Howie and pulled him off Jim.

"Don't you ever come near me again, unless you want the shit beaten out of you on the spot!"  Howie got up, put his clothes on and started up the stairs.  "I'll call you tomorrow, Grant."

I nodded to Howie, then turned to Jim.  "What the fuck were you thinking?  You knew he's straight.  Receiving a blow job from a man is one thing, but Frenching him?"

"He suggested it."

"He just asked if that was what you wanted to do.  He was never homophobic, but you probably pushed him over the fuckin' edge with that.  That's it.  Time for you to go home.  Call me before you head back overseas."

We all got dressed, and I let Jim out then locked up the entire house while the other guys went upstairs and got ready for bed. 

What a way to end up an otherwise successful Christmas party!

* * * * * * *

Greta and I were invited to the Staunton's' for Christmas Dinner, along with our three Iraqi guests.  We had gifts for each of them, with one gift for the family from Majid, Dildar and Hassan.  Greta and I took gifts for Howie and Krissy, but they decided to spend the day with her family in Annapolis.  Cal told me that they were supposed to be here, but Howie apparently succumbed to her cajoling, as husbands frequently do when subjected to constant whining – just to make it stop!  We left the gifts there for them to get later.

Howie called the next day and asked if he could come over.  He brought each of us two Everett Hall neckties and his apologies for not being with us the day before.  Krissy was getting more and more whiny about getting her way.  He said that this morning she asked if all of us were "queer fags."  He said he blew up at her for her lack of common concern and at least trying to understand people who might be different from her.  She has no real consideration for people of different ethnic background, religion, beliefs, or raised in a different environment, and could not understand how Howie would associate with those who are so different from him.  

"I told her..." Howie said, "... `it's part of being a human being and caring for other human beings.  There are differences in beliefs between Anglicans, Baptists, Catholics, Lutherans, Methodists and Presbyterians.  But all are Christians.  You and I were raised in different churches, but we can still be in love and want to be with each other.  There's a difference in loving really good friends as friends, as a brother or sister, and being "in love" with someone.  I happen to be in love with you, Krissy, but Grant and I have been like brothers or cousins or best friends for all our lives, and I love him in a different way.  He loves me in a different way than he would love someone he wants to marry and spend the rest of his life with.' 

"Grant, I'm sorry to prattle on like this, but not being with you all yesterday really has gotten to me.  Give me a hug – just don't try to kiss me – at least not on the lips or try to ram your tongue down my throat.  I might have to beat the shit out of you."

"If I tried that, I would deserve the beating."

"Majid, I have never had a blow-job that could compare with the one you gave me.  Girls just don't give it the way a gay man does – not even professional girls."

"Howie, it was a pleasure to give you the satisfaction you deserve," Maji replied.  "Anytime you need another one, I dare say any of us would be very glad to make themselves available.  Hug? Same conditions?"

"Just whistle `Dixie' to get his attention," I said, and I thought Maji would choke on laughter.

Just then, a car pulled into the driveway and stopped.  A man got out, and I realized it was Jim Guthrie.  `Oh, shit!' I thought.  I met him at the door as he rang the bell.

"When I said `call,' I meant the telephone.  You didn't have to drive all the way over here."

"I want to apologize for my behavior the other night," Jim started.

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to – I'm not the one you tried to rape with your tongue," I countered.  "You need to face Howard for your assault on him."

"I thought you might express my regrets to him."

"You can express your regrets to him personally.  He's inside.  Do come in."

The look on Jim's face was priceless.  He looked like the teenager caught by his mother in the final throws of ejaculation.  He stepped inside, and I closed the door so he couldn't run.

Howie came into the foyer, looking like he was ready for a full-fledged fight.

Jim stuck out his hand, ready to shake Howie's, and ruefully said, "Staunton, please accept my apology for my actions the other night.  You had every right to beat my ass, and I'm ready to take my punishment."

"Well, Guthrie, I'll take that option at my choosing the time and place, and when you least expect it," Howie said in his most professional tone.  "And I'll take it NOW!" he said as he raised his right fist, then hooked his left fist direct on its target, Jim's jaw.  Jim landed on his back on the floor, a dazed look on his face, not comprehending what had happened.

I leaned over Jim and told him, "Mid-South Golden Gloves light-heavyweight champion, two years in a row."

Howie reached out his hand, asking, "Can I help you up?"

"Geshehellwayfrome," Jim slurred his response.  "Isueyouorevershingyougot."

"And what led up to it will all come out in court, including your part in the party the other night.  You really want to expose all that?  I don't think so.  So now we're even — unless you want to try to improve on the blowjob Majid gave me.  If you want to do that, just whistle "Dixie" and I'll drop-trou — just for you."

"Fuku!"

"That's not part of the deal.  Just a B.J. will be very adequate, while I fuck your face," Howie told him, then walked back into the living room.

"Sonofabish!  Heffeuf, Gah."  Jim put out his hand for some help, which I gave him.

"Let's get you cleaned up and you can rest up a bit in one of our guest rooms."  I helped him up the stairs and into the room next to Dildar and Hassan.  I got a first aid kit and cleaned him up, then gave him some Tylenol and put him to bed.  "I'll see you later and maybe you'll feel like some supper with us – even some chicken soup."  I kissed him on the forehead and left him alone.

About 5:30 that evening, I went back in to check on Jim.  He was starting to wake up, so I lay down on the bed with him.  "How's my big ole studly patient this evening?" I asked.

"I have a terrible headache and my jaw is as sore as it can be.  And my coccyx hurts too.  Can I be your baby and you take care of me the way I want you to?"

"At least you still have a sense of humor.  Do you feel like coming down for some supper or do you want me to bring some soup up here for you?"

"Would you feed it to me if you brought it up here?" he asked.

"Could you suck me off as a bribe?"

"No, but could I bribe you to suck me off?"

"No, not a chance today.  It's soup here or downstairs.  Which is it, wussie?"

"Shit!  If I'm not going to get the treatment I desperately need, I'll just come downstairs.  How long?"

I stood and headed out the door.  "Fifteen minutes – now.  And be properly dressed – for Greta's sake – please!" 

* * * * * * *

Then came New Year's Eve.  Greta and Robbie were going to the party at the Deaf Club in Washington, so the four of us decided we would go bar-hopping in downtown.  No, I'm not stupid enough to take my SUV and park it on the street or on a lot in downtown D.C.  So, I called the limo service I have used and got one of their drivers to pick us up at the house about 8:30 p.m. so we'd get to The Eagle around nine o'clock.  I told the driver to pick us up at 1:00 a.m. 

We got in as the dancers were starting to perform in their little cubicles.  The other three guys were developing a taste for some alcohol flavors, such as rum based drinks.  I was considering ordering either a Hurricane or a Brass Monkey and introduce them to some vodka.  It was a cold night outside, so I decided to start with hot buttered rum for all of us but told the waiter to go easy on the other guys' rum since they were not used to alcohol.  I gave him a fifty-dollar tip to take care of us.  I told the guys to nurse their drinks because I would not order more than every forty-five minutes to an hour as the night went on. 

The dancers were very good, many of them acrobats and gymnasts but also regular dancers doing their gyrations to current pop songs.  One really cool element of their dancing was they danced nude – and I mean totally nude, except for a cock-ring.  They started their routine clothed in a costume of sorts, going through the stripping portion to a variety of bikinis, thongs, G-strings, and then those came off for the last half of their twenty-minute performance.  As the evening went by, I noticed a pattern of switching dancers.  Four new dancers would come out from backstage and start their dance every fifteen minutes, starting on the hour.  The new guys would be fully clothed while the previous dancers were totally naked – and some were hard from customers playing with them when giving them tips.  Then the newer group would be to their naked stage at ten minutes into the performance, so five minutes later a new quartet would appear.  I liked the idea very much and called it to the attention of my buddies.  We would do something like that at the Crystal Rainbow – when we find a place that allows completely nude dancing.

The four of us spent over a hundred dollars each on tips to the dancers.  There were also dancers on the tables who were patrons wanting to make some money.  They would get up close and personal but could not be completely naked.

The New Year arrived and we all had champagne provided by the club.  Some patrons came in costumes; we all had party hats and noise makers, and "Auld Lang Syne."  Everybody in the place shared kisses with the other patrons.  All the dancers were in their spot, totally naked, shaking their bootie and anything else that would wiggle.  They all broke the rules and let the customers get closer than normal.  I told my guys to watch my stunt.  I went to one of the hottest, best built, muscle-dancers, who was a blond. I put a twenty in my mouth, turned around and lay backwards on his part of the stage.  He came to me, lowered himself over my face and picked up the money with his "lower cheeks."  I got a round of applause for my show.  Then, one at a time, Maji, Hassan and Dildar did the same thing with three other dancers.  After that others copied what we had done. 

At five `til one I herded my crew outside to the limo as it pulled up at the front door.  The tab for the limo was on my credit card, so I gave the driver a very nice gratuity for getting us to and from, safely.

New Years' Day was a unique experience for us Americans.  Because it was on Sunday, there was no Rose Parade or Rose Bowl Game.  And it was raining in Southern California.  Maji and I released the jinn from their sentence of seclusion so they could enjoy each other's company.  I have no idea where they went for their time together, our bedroom or the vast ether.  But they were very happy when we saw them later that night. 

Maji and I gave them instructions to find a one-hundred-acre tract of fertile land and forests in the southern part of the United States that would be accessible to a large gay population near a major city and on the edge of a large amount of water, like a river, lake or sea.

Then next morning when we awoke, the two jinn were sitting in mid-air at the foot of our bed and smiling big grins.  "What?" I asked as I opened one eye.  Maji turned over and saw them, then asked, "What's with them?"

"We have completed our assigned mission," they said together.  {I hate it when they do that!}   

"What did you find?" I asked.

"We found three places that meet your requirements and would be easy to develop."  {They did it again!}

"Briefly, and one at a time, please!"

"The closest to this location is on a river, near a great city ..." Jamal said, then Arman continued, "... at the edge of a vast forest.  We can take you there."

"I want coffee and breakfast before I go anywhere ...," Maji grumbled as he got out of bed, "... except to the bathroom."

"You two stay close by so we can talk more about this after breakfast," I said as I got out of bed.  "Then I want to hear about the places that you think would be good for us to consider."

When we came out of the bathroom to dress for breakfast, the jinn duo was sitting exactly where they were before.  They had not moved, except to add a magnificent floating Persian rug to sit on. 

"You gotta be shittin' me! That's all we need – a magic carpet to take us to these places." 

Maji laughed as he retorted, "You took the words right out of my mouth!"

I looked at him, surprised!  "I thought that was just a southern American expression!" I said.

"Arman gives me some colloquialisms occasionally," he replied casually.  Then he smiled, and I signed `Thank you' to Arman, who grinned broadly.

We got dressed, and as we went downstairs, Maji called back to them, "Why don't you two arm-wrestle for top this time?  We'll see you later."

 After a traditional Kurdish breakfast, which Greta had learned to prepare to perfection, Dildar and Hassan joined Maji and me in the library to talk about the sites our jinn had located.  As we walked into the room, Jamal and Arman were stretched out on the flying carpet, totally naked, arm-wrestling.  Either they were still battling for their first victory or they enjoyed the end results so much they were using the technique to determine who topped and who bottomed all the time now.  Our appearance distracted Jamal, and Arman took advantage of it, beating his lover with an easy win. 

Jamal had a classic response, which translates from the Persian as,  "Fuck!"

That gave us a good laugh.  Then we got down to business.