The Inheritance 6 By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have comments send them to winarch47@yahoo.com
I knew that many Arab and Turkish men visited the Athena Hotel and Bath for Men. I knew some of these men were refugees, but I had no idea about their families or why they were in England. I suspect some were here because of tribal or ethnic feuds. Babu, the strong man in the circus, came to me with a problem.
His cousin was an official in the Egyptian government that oversaw orphanages. I knew that a cousin was not necessarily a first cousin. It could be a person who was distantly related to your family, or your grandmother's family. They could be distantly related.
The cousin suspected that a Christian organization that ran several large institutions was not using it funds for charitable purposes. They were not associated with the Coptic Church and seemed to have an odd connection to an Islamic group. A high-ranking Islamic cleric was also puzzled.
I knew that if an English official used the word "puzzled," it meant there was trouble. Something was wrong. From the way Babu described it, it meant the same to the cleric. I discussed the problem with my friends in high places. They investigated and confirmed the report was concerning. In the language of the time, "concerning" was also a sign of trouble. It might be used to refer to an attempt on the life of Queen Victoria and imminent war.
Two weeks later I was on a ship sailing to Alexandria. It was an Egyptian ship owned by another one of Babu's cousins. The visitors list on English ships were routinely published. Egyptian ships did not follow that practice. Bertie filled my role at the baths. He was a man of leisure and had an interest in anal sex. He was glad to be of use and was able to remember a message while the messenger was ejaculating six or seven inches up his ass. That skill was the equivalent of a password.
I was traveling with a servant Murad. Of course, he was another cousin who shared my sexual interests. He soon knew of other men of the same inclination. He told me that anal sex with an Englishman was desirable. He would select appropriate playmates. It soon was clear that sex with an Englishman was rare. I was even rarer when your cock both suck, fuck, and seed him. I didn't know if this was good. It could have been a mark of friendship or an insult. I decided to assume Murad knew what was right.
The voyage was long and hot, but all was well otherwise. In Alexandria I stayed in the compound of another cousin, Abdul. The house was a combination of a mansion and fortification. There I met the concerned official and as well as man associated with an Islamic charity.
Some of the problem was due to the difference between English and Egyptian accounting systems. The problematic charity used both systems causing confusion. The Egyptian accountant explained their system. He did not speak English so Abdul's son, Osman, translated. Osman was about thirty and he spoke enough English to conduct business. He wasn't pleased to be doing this.
Fortunately, numbers don't lie. A day later I found part of the problem. The money that was intended for the care and feeding of the orphans was given to the men operating the institution to pay debt. It seemed that most of debt was used to pay loans by the Trustees. The interest on the debt was five percent. The loan document listed the five percent rate but did not mention it was five percent a month.
The charity was run for the benefit of the trustees, not for the orphans. Osman was smart, and his family was well connected. I asked if this damaging information might be better received if it came from an Egyptian. He said he would discuss that with his father.
That night there was a discussion with the senior members of the family. Osman came back to me. I was a good and honorable man who had uncovered a major fraud. They accepted my discovery without hesitation. However, a discovery by an Englishman would give the fraudsters a weapon to object to the discovery. I would be wiser to have an Egyptian as the accuser.
I told him that made sense to me, and I thought their decisions were wise.
That was well received by the elders. I was seen as a modest and honorable man, who shunned attention for the welfare of the orphans. Two days later I met with several Egyptians and explained the situation. I told them the hybrid combination of the English and Egyptian systems allowed the deception. I suggested a few modifications to the rules would take care of the problem. That pleased them.
I stayed in Egypt in case the elders need consultations the embezzlement.
Osman was one of the few younger men in the house. His older brother was married but the marriage had only produced girls. There were no boys, and until there was a boy an heir, Osman could not get married. Murad told Osman about my sexual interests.
It seemed that the general rule was that mature men could fuck younger men. In this case, the younger men of the household were in other cities running the businesses. The house had its own steam bath, and I met Osman.
Osman fucked me and we became friends. Fucking is one thing. Fucking a man who enjoys it is another. I gripped his cock with my sphincter, and he loved it. His previous partners were of the grin-and-bare it school. Osman had never fucked a responsive man. He loved it. Fucking can only be so bad. Osman discovered how good it could be in my ass.
I was busy for two weeks, but before I returned to England, I wanted to see more of Egypt. did not stay in hotels. Osman's family was large and wealthy. They had many homes, country houses and a few fortified homes. In Cairo I was in the palatial house of Osman's cousin, Omar. As far as I could tell he was Osman's grandmother's third cousin's son. Omar was a fierce looking man who could speak English. He had a problem in a business deal in England. I explained the English legal system to him, and he realized it was a simple misunderstanding.
I visited the Pyramids and other sites of interest and was suitably impressed. It was hot and I went to bath with Omar. He told me that Osman told him that I was an accommodating man. His own relations with Englishmen were rarely enjoyable. I told him that I met many Egyptians and Arab men in London, and we had most agreeable relationships. Omar's towel fell to the floor. His private parts were impressive.
"I am a friendly man too, but few men can accommodate my needs," he said. "I like to achieve complete release."
"I certainly understand that" I said. "I see you are exceptionally manly. I understand the need for release."
He looked me eye to eye. "Some men complain release is messy."
"From my own experience, I have found if the release is deep enough all is well," I said. I moved close to him and fondled his cock. "Your manly parts are impressive."
Two men came in the room. They were nude and semi erect. One carried a small container of scented unguents. The other moved a bench into the middle of the room. He took me to the bench. I laid down on it and the attendant massages my hole with perfumed oils.
By then Omar was fully erect as were the two attendants. He carefully placed his knob at my ass and gently pushed. My sphincter offered little resistance as his cock slid deep into my ass. I moaned. I am an active bottom. I try to caress and grab the cock as it enters me.
I suspected the local men passively allowed him to use them as a mark of respect or obedience. Omar liked my approach. It both extended his time fucking and intensified the final climax. We had a good time at the bath. I went to bed after his orgasm and slept well.
Just before dawn, he came to my bedroom. He was well lubricated and was soon deep in me.
"I thought it was a dream, but it is beautiful," he said as I squeezed my sphincter to caress his cock. He moaned and continued to thrust deeper into me. It was wonderful. He injected his seed as deep in me as possible and left.
It had been good, but I was worried it might be too good. I could easily spend the rest of my life in Egypt taking his cock. I was unnecessarily worried. He went off to a meeting in Alexandria and bodyguard, Selim came to me. Selim was told to fuck me and learn my anal skills.
It was an order, but once he entered my ass, all was well. I had a feeling that he had a broader approach to sex when not obeying Omar's orders. It was a great honor to be hid personal guard. I had a suspicion he was selected for the job because of his big cock.
Selim would fuck me until he was on the edge of an orgasm. He would pull out and rest briefly. He did this for about thirty minutes, and then Selim gave up the effort to hold back his orgasm. He flooded my ass with sperm. He had a younger man with him. That man licked my ass and tried to coax Selim's sperm from my ass.
I thought that was a demeaning task. When he finished, he stood and had a full erection. Selim had left. I was in my back and pulled my legs to my chest. The young man knew what an exposed asshole meant. A few seconds later he was pounding my ass. He shot off after only a few minutes.
A day later I was on the Nile sailing south to Luxor. It was over three hundred miles away and it was a leisurely trip. It was relaxing and enjoyable. There were ten passengers and an attentive crew. Egypt had a wealthy elite, but the rest of the population was poor. I laughed to myself. England was not that different.
Murad was with me. He was helpful as usual. Murad came to me and said an Egyptian Rug merchant would like to meet me. He ran the London-Cairo Export Company. "Fahad is a widower and is lonely." Murad explained.
"Would I like him?" I asked.
Murad smiled and said, "There are parts of him you would find to be impressive." I had seen Fahad at meals and there was nothing unusual about him. At the midday meal I sat next to him. He spoke enough English to be understood. He supplied rugs to expensive shops that would sell them as being specially commissioned by their shop.
"My father and my father's father were rug merchants. We sell only the best," he said. He was not an impressive looking man, but he was obviously proud. He asked what I did.
I told him I worked charities for children. Fahad made the proper, Praise be to Allah, response. I told him that I didn't work with the children. I looked for persons trying to take money from the charity for their own use.
"I know of one man of the sort. Evil men are slippery like frogs," he replied.
I explained the fraud. Since he worked in exports, he was aware of the differences in accounting systems. He was interested in my explanation of the fraud.
We finished eating and I asked him to my room to discuss the problem. Back at the room we didn't talk much. I rubbed my crotch, and he did the same.
"I've never sucked an Englishman's cock," Fahad said in a whisper.
"I would like it if you sucked me, but you don't need to do it of you are uneasy," I said. Minutes later he was sucking my cock with skill and enthusiasm. We were on my berth, so I rearranged it so I could suck his organ. He was a scrawny man, but his modest cock was long and thick when aroused. He was soon oozing the sweet juices of an aroused man. Five minutes later I was on my back as he began to push his cock into me.
There must have been some secret communication between his cock and my ass. It was a perfect entry. He knew what I wanted. It was beautiful. A little later Fahad asked if he would insult me if the ejaculated into me. I said I would be pleased and honored. Soon I felt him shooting his seed into me. I knew that Englishmen were known for being haughty and disdainful of their colonial subjects.
I may be a radical thinker, but I had a strong sense that trying to assert the value of English rule when there is a cock in your ass was not going to become a high point of the Queen Empress's rule. When he pulled out, he asked me to fuck him. I told him I would like that but at another time. Being fucked right after an orgasm diminishes the thrill. We had another twelve days on the Nile and there were many other opportunities.
We stopped at ancient sites along the way and picked up another English passenger, Rufus Bellwether. Rufus was a middle-aged archaeologist. He was a rowdy and rude man who I suspected was more of a treasure hunter than a scholar. I also thought he was not particularly well educated. Rufus drank a lot. He was a big man had had a small cabin. Fahad didn't like him, and Fahad was a perceptive man.
The ship stopped at a small Egyptian village that sat beside a restocking station for ships. Rufus disembarked. Two hours later his body was returned to the boat. He was alive but had been stabbed because he had been cheating at cards. When he was carried back, I help the crew to get him on the boat. The captain thought I had been injured because my clothes were covered in his blood.
We put him in my room, since it was large enough for Rufus and the captain. On smaller boats the captain often served as a doctor. Stabbings were not unusual on boats that sailed the Nile. It was not a serious wound, and the captain was skilled. Cleaning the wound and sewing up Rufus was painful, but successful. It made a mess of my cabin, but when the captain asked if I wanted to return to it, I told him it was more important that Rufus recover.
My new room was uncomfortable and small. I had an unworthy thought that Rufus deserved a little more pain. That might be true, but if Rufus died, I would have felt guilty.
Murad made sure the crew know I was an important man who associated with persons of high rank. I had helped the crew get Rufus on the boat and shook hands with the head man to thank him for his efforts. The next morning the man who did the laundry was in tears, frightened that he could not get Rufus's blood out of my suit. I told him I understood and gave him two shillings for his efforts.
We arrived in Luxor two days later. I paid to send Rufus back to England and his family. I had planned to stay in a hotel, but I was invited to stay at Fahad's brother's house. When you hear the phrase Arab Rug Dealer you think of a shop on a side street or in an open-air market.
Fahad's brother, Robert, was dressed as a European gentleman. He used a European name that was easy to pronounce. He ran the family businesses in Italy. France and in Vienna. When Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria Hungary or King Umberto of Italy needed a carpet, they contacted Robert. I was in the European half of the house. The other half was Egyptian and most of the women of the house lived in that side. Four clerks live on our side. Each spoke a different language, English, French, Italian and German.
Robert was aware that Europeans laughed at poorly translated letters. No one received a letter with a grammatical error from his business. There was to be a formal dinner for me with local dignitaries in three days. Robert had to go on a business trip with tribal leaders to buy rugs. I went site seeing and had interesting conversation with the secretaries. Murad was busy. He absorbed gossip and rumor like a sponge absorbs water.
The European secretaries and many of the Egyptian who worked in the house shared my sexual interests. The unmarred daughters and nieces in the house were to marry appropriate husbands of wealth and rank, not ordinary secretaries from unworthy families. The house had an elaborate bath for guests and dignitaries, and a less elaborate bath for normal men.
Murad not only found information; he gave useful information to useful men. The secretaries were no threat to the women. They had little interest in sex with women, but they were top heavy. The Italian would take it in the ass, but he complained. No one else would bottom. Murad told the secretaries that I was a willing bottom. He gave the same information to two Egyptian friends called Ali Baba and Sinbad of my interest. Those were not their real names. They were given the names to amuse European visitors. They were muscle bound bodyguards. We all used the employees' bath. I was in the bath talking with Horst, the German. He was on one side of me, and Sinbad was on the other. Even soft they had impressive tools.
Sinbad was a bit timid, but Horst more than made up for that. He said he liked men and he loved their asses. That wasn't the most subtle approach to a sexual encounter I had encountered. I replied that this was his lucky day. Horst burst into laughter. He coated his cock with lube and pushed in deep on the first thrust. He was large but it was a good fit. He made a dozen thrusts and then shot off and pulled out. "I was excited, I usually take my time, I'm sorry," he said. He motioned to Sinbad to come over. Horst left.
Since I was bent over with my ass in the air, I had no choice. Sinbad was bigger than Horst and fierce looking. He got me on my back and put my legs on his shoulders. Seconds later I was shocked. His cock was deep in my ass. I looked at his face. His eyes were closed, and he was smiling. He was feeing intense pleasure. Sinbad was a lover.
His friend Ali Baba entered the bath. They spoke briefly. Sinbad pulled out as Ali Baba oiled his cock. It slid into my ass easily. His cock was a little longer than Sinbad's but not as thick. I tightened my sphincter. Ali Abba liked that a lot. Ali increased the pace of his thrusts and shot off.
Sinbad returned to my ass. He collected the sperm that leaked from my ass on his cock head and pushed it back in me. This time, it was clear that he was going to unload in me. His orgasm included multiple ejaculations that pleased me as much as him.
By then the other secretaries entered the baths. George, Louie, and Carlo took turns with me. I sometimes fear that I will get tired at serving multiple men. That night was not the night I had that problem. I went to my bedroom with a smile on my face.
Shortly before dawn, Carlo came to my room. He wanted me to fuck him. His problem was getting fucked, it was with the other secretaries not with the cock in his ass.