The Sultan's Favorite Boy, Part 2 by Bill (bil47@yahoo.com)
"Salim, would you care to visit my campfire to drink coffee and talk for a while?" inquired the middle-aged commander gently. He spoke the Bosnian dialect fluently, but with a peculiar accent.
The 11-year-old wasn't sure what Commander Mustafa might want of him, but he hastened to the man's side. This was the day that Salim had become a slave... taken from his village through the imposition of the Sultan's boy-tax. No ordinary slave, though. He and the other boys similarly taken from the valley would be cadets in the Corps of Janissaries -- the elite troops of the powerful Ottoman Empire. For over 200 years, this army had been comprised solely of men taken in boyhood from the conquered Christian territories of Greece and the Balkans.
Earlier that day the Salim and five other boys had left their villages in the mountains of southwestern Bosnia, likely never to return. And a half-hour ago, the commander of this recruiting unit had presided over a naming ceremony, in which the six youngsters had thrown onto a bonfire all of their clothing and anything else they had brought from their old lives. While being re-clothed, they were also renamed and warmly welcomed into the Corps. Before the ceremony, Salim had been Sacha. His 9-year-old cousin Daniil, who had lived in a neighboring village, was renamed Damir.
With a hearty meal of mutton stew in his belly, and wearing an impressive new uniform of dark purple shirt and baggy black pants of the Turkish style, Salim followed Commander Mustafa away from the center of the encampment. The eyes of others -- 14 Janissary soldiers and 20 new cadets -- followed the man and boy as they disappeared into the darkness while walking to the place where Mustafa's tent was pitched and his small campfire burned. The soldiers were envious of their commander, retiring for the night with the most beautiful boy any of them had seen in some time. And the boys in the camp were impressed at how their bright and personable young comrade had been instantly elevated in status by his selection.
"Sit with me on this log, Salim," said the man, pointing to a stout tree trunk that lay 6 feet from the fire. "Have you ever drunk coffee?"
"No, sir... but I know of it."
"I will give you half a cup to start," said the commander as he picked up two metal cups.
The commander looked to be about 40, his short-cropped brown hair flecked with grey, but he was strong and had an aura that suggested he was an excellent leader. Pouring hot strong coffee from a small pot that hung over the fire, he handed one to the boy, and they sat down together on the log.
"The infidels drink alcohol when they talk around the fire at night. We Muslims drink coffee to help the conversation flow."
Salim nodded his head in acknowledgment, adding this fact to the growing store of information about his new life.
"So, boy, what are your thoughts on this momentous day? You don't look at all melancholy or frightened like some of the others."
"Well, sir... I think I am excited that I shall finally see the world outside this valley. And I have always known I would be a Janissary, so it makes me proud to now wear this uniform."
The commander beamed. "Well said, lad! ... So tell me a bit about your life... and about this valley of yours. It strikes me as a rather pleasant place to grow up."
Salim looked around him -- at the snow-capped mountaintops in the distance, barely visible in the moonlight -- and he breathed deep of the crisp autumn air. And then he began to talk -- of life in a village of subsistence farmers and shepherds; of the way the morning sun blazed a rich golden color on the tallest mountain to the west; of the majestic silence that followed a heavy snowfall; of catching small game with ingenious snares and traps; of the thrill of seeing the men and older youths return from the hunt with deer or mountain goats shot with bow and arrow. And he talked of the empty bellies that growled when the deep snows were late in giving way to the thaw, and the beauty of wild flowers when the snow finally receded. Salim's intelligence and enthusiasm -- and the near poetry of his descriptions -- warmed the man's heart.
"I will miss the valley," said Salim, "But I am ready to leave it, sir. Ready to see what lies beyond." After a moment, he added "May I ask, sir... have you traveled much in your time as a soldier?"
"Traveled? Ah, yes, lad. In 31 years of service, during the reign of five different sultans, I have been to the four corners of the Empire. I've seen the pyramids of Egypt, the metropolis of Baghdad, the holy city of Jerusalem. I've been to the islands of the Aegean Sea and sailed through the Straits of Gibralter. Let me tell you about the time we fought the infidels right up to the gates of Vienna...."
As the commander spun his tales of adventure, Salim listened... entranced. Whenever Mustafa's narrative flagged, Salim would ask a question to get him started again... or sometimes the lad would tell story of his own, often of the boyish adventures he had shared with his best friend Havel. The commander was charmed by the Salim.... and the boy was captivated by the man.
As the hour grew late, a chilly wind whistled through the camp. Salim, who had left his new cloak back with the other boys, shivered and held his hands out to the red embers of the dying fire.
"Come, boy. Sit on my lap, and I will wrap my cloak around us both."
Salim sat sideways on the man's knees, his legs dangling to the right of Mustafa's lap. It was just the way Salim had loved to perch on his father's lap, until his father said he had grown too big. As the man and boy resumed their conversation, Salim leaned his head against Mustafa's chest, hoping the commander would not mind. Mustafa's long woolen cloak enveloped the boy, and a strong hand rested lightly on Salim's shoulder... the other hand on the boy's knee. As Salim snuggled closer, the man's embrace became even more intimate. Conversation ceased, and they sat for a time in silence. While a feeling of safety and comfort pervaded the boy's mind, quite a different set of feelings coursed through Mustafa. There was lust, to be sure... his cock was growing stiff inside his thick uniform trousers. But there was also the far more complex feeling of true affection and protectiveness.
Janissaries were forbidden to have relations with women, and Mustafa had shared sexual companionship with uncounted men and youths in the 31 years since he had been taken from Romanian countryside as a young boy. At times over the years, he and some fellow soldier would share an extended relationship, built on love or mere expedience... or perhaps both. Most of his sexual encounters, however, were just one-time releases of lust... a time of pleasure to relieve the boredom of the barracks or the bivouac. And more than a few were with cute young cadets.
As Mustafa breathed in the subtle scent of the boy who snuggled on his lap, his heart beat faster and his cock strained with lust. Surely a boy so beautiful and charming had attracted the frequent sexual attentions of horny teenagers or of men in his village who appreciate the eroticism of tender boys.
"Salim.... Are you experienced with men or older youths?"
"Experienced, sir?" said the boy is a slightly puzzled tone. "There are... let's see... 14 men in my village and 5 boys of courting age. I know all of them rather well."
"No, lad; I meant, have you ever been... uh... penetrated." He refrained from using the crude Bosnian word for "fucked".
"Penetrated, sir? In what manner?" asked the boy innocently.
"You know... have you taken a man's hard cock in your bottom hole?"
"Sir??" Clearly, Salim had never considered such a thing. "Why would a man do that, sir?"
Mustafa silently cursed himself for having presumed the boy's lack of innocence. But this would not be the first time he'd relate these particular facts of life to a boy. "(Ahem).... Well.... You know of how a bull will mount a cow to later produce a calf?"
"Yes" said Salim, nodding earnestly. Every country boy had seen the mating of farm animals.
"And do you know how a man will take pleasure lying between the legs of a woman and thrusting into her?"
"Yes, sir. And the woman pretends not to desire it, but she moans just as loud as the man!" said Salim, causing Mustafa to laugh out loud and hug Salim even tighter. Salim and Havel had twice spied on a teenage couple who were courting, following them with stealth as the youth and maiden had snuck off to the meadow for private intimacy. The young boys had watched from the edge of the woods as the couple engaged in the kissing, touching, and fondling of teenage lust. And they had watched with particular interest when the boy cajoled the girl into spreading her legs and receive his urgent thrusts.
"You are perceptive, lad! Well, two men can make love in a similar fashion, with one sliding his cock inside the other's bottom until the manly seed spurts, and he feels great pleasure. And a man can do it to a boy. In the barracks, you will find it is rather common. The soldiers call it fucking. Some men and youths, if they have no modesty, will fuck in full view of the entire barracks. More often, though, you will hear the sounds after the lamps are extinguished at night and men lay together in the dark."
Salim well knew the sounds of sexual coupling from having lived in a one-room shack, where he would sometimes awaken to the distinct sound of his parents' lovemaking... the harmony of muffled pleasure noises in the dark, growing to a crescendo, then almost instantly dying down to a few gentle sighs.
"I think I may have done fucking, sir. Several times, my friend Havel and I... we took off our clothes and hugged each other, taking turns being on top and rubbing our stiffies together. It was a most enjoyable feeling sir," said Salim with total candor.
"No, lad," said the commander gently. "What you and Havel did was sex play of a gentler sort. Fucking involves a stiff cock entering your bottom. There will be many a soldier -- and many an older cadet -- who will ask if they may fuck you."
Salim looked up into Mustafa's eyes. "Sir, would it please you to fuck me tonight?"
For a moment the commander could not speak, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. Then he kissed the boy on the cheek and said "You have spoken to me in candor, Salim, and I will answer you honestly. If you had told me that you were experienced in the ways of pleasuring men, I would have gladly taken you to my tent tonight. It would have pleased me greatly to make love to you. But long ago I resolved not to fuck a boy who was unaccustomed to having a man."
Mustafa's cock was of generous length and girth, and he knew the pain that a boy would endure at being deflowered by it. Indeed, Mustafa could still remember his own pain when he was first penetrated... succumbing to the flatteries of a smooth-talking soldier in the barracks, some 30 years before. Giving a boy his first fuck, or even the second or third, was too much like rape for the commander's liking. (And Mustafa was quite familiar with rape, understanding that it was a tool of war... a weapon to be inflicted on the daughters and sons of the Sultan's enemies in time of conflict.)
"Let me offer some advice about your upcoming life as a young Janissary, if I may. Although it is your right to share pleasures with any comrade, whether soldier or cadet, you would do well to turn down the offers of men while you are so young. Men are eager to take pleasure from a boy, but often reluctant to give back. Sometimes, a boy -- especially a handsome one such as you -- allows his body to be used indiscriminately for the pleasure of many men. While he is often flattered by the men, and feels himself to be popular, he acquires a reputation that is undesirable for a soldier. He will be called a 'bottom boy'... viewed as a sexual toy, rather than as a comrade. Even as he grows to manhood, that identity may remain stronger than any skills he may possess as a warrior.
"For now, it would best for you to choose partners from among those close to your own age. Experience all the joys of sex-play with the other boys... the stroking and sucking... the snuggling of naked bodies at night... fingers tickling each others' bottom holes. But have a care to keep the relations equal. Do not be one who always sucks other boys' cocks without being sucked in return. And wait for the right boy to come along before you allow a stiff cock to penetrate your bottom. It will likely hurt the first time... perhaps the first several times, as you learn how to do it... so choose a boy you trust. Do you understand all these things, boy?"
"Yes, sir. I think so."
Mustafa continued hugging Salim to his chest as a few moments of silence ensued. Then the commander spoke again, softly. "This boy Havel.... You will miss him, yes?"
Salim felt his throat tighten. "Yes sir; I will miss him terribly. It is wrong for me to say this, but I fear that I shall miss him even more than I will my own family."
"It sounds as if the two of you were in love. That is a beautiful thing for two boys to have shared. Some day, you will have feelings for a comrade that are as strong and good as the feelings you had for Havel... feelings that the other boy will have for you as well. Then you will know it is time to give the gift of your body and allow him to make love to you. And when your comrade offers you his body, accept his gift with love and respect."
Commander Mustafa looked into Salim's beautiful eyes for a long moment, feeling a stab of emotion deep in his heart. "Thank you, lad, for drinking coffee with me. I hope that someday, when you are older and more experienced, we may be stationed together. Perhaps then, we might exchange pleasures."
Salim didn't know what to say. And the continued tightness in his throat would have made it difficult to speak in any case. But he wrapped his arms around Mustafa's neck and brought his lips to the man's mouth. The man's heart melted as the most wonderful feeling of love washed over him. The commander hugged the cadet tightly as their mouths joined. When the tip of Mustafa's tongue grazed Salim's lip, the boy instinctively opened his mouth and let his own tongue peek out timidly. For a long, breathless, timeless moment, the two kissed. Their tongues entwined... tasting, licking, probing... their lips nibbling.
When Mustafa broke the kiss at last, he was light-headed. "Hop down, boy, before you make me abandon my resolve. Off you go, then. Goodnight."
And as Salim made his way along the path, the commander closed his eyes and turned his mind inward. Mustafa's brain was committing to memory every detail of the boy's face, his scent, his voice, his touch, his kiss... and the memory of the boy's naked body earlier that evening at the naming ceremony. Then he stood up, adjusted his rigid cock in his pants, and poured the rest of the coffee from the pot into the embers of the fire. As he walked into his tent and began removing his uniform, Mustafa knew that his delicious memories of the boy would be put to good use -- for the first of many times -- as a mental accompaniment to the pleasures of his stroking hand.
Salim felt as though he was walking on a cloud as he started down the path away from the commander's campsite. So many thoughts and feelings inhabited in his brain and body... so much new information to absorb. His penis was stiff, a phenomenon that happened with increasing frequency in recent months. And he felt the urge, more strongly than ever before, to touch his penis and manipulate it in the way that brought the tingling pleasure feelings.
But first he must find the spot where the other boys were camped. He silently cursed himself for being inattentive as he had walked here with the commander. The camp was spread out widely in an area of thick clumps of trees interspersed with grassy patches of meadow. As he looked through the trees ahead, he saw several low- burning campfires at various spots. He picked one and headed toward it. A three-quarters moon provided some illumination as he walked along in the cool night air. Up ahead, he saw two figures standing together, and he moved toward them to speak to them. But as he approached, he saw that they were... well, not exactly embracing... they were being VERY intimate. And one was a boy, identifiable by the purple color of his uniform shirt and his smaller stature.
As Salim quietly walked closer, he could see the boy's face -- an older kid, maybe 13 or 14, that Salim did not know personally. One of the group from down-valley who had been "recruited" on a previous day. He was leaning against a tree with his legs spayed out a bit. His pants were open but not pulled down. The man was standing at his side with his left arm around the boy's shoulder, his right hand masturbating the boy's erect adolescent cock in a slow, erotic rhythm. The soldier had his mouth to the side of the boy's head... perhaps whispering erotic words... more likely flicking his tongue sensuously in the lad's ear. The boy's eyes were closed and he was sighing and cooing with pleasure, oblivious to Salim's presence only 15 feet away. As Salim moved along a bit more, he saw that the man's cock was out too -- a virile erection of impressive size. The boy's right hand was wrapped around it, giving it an occasional distracted stroke. Though Salim was aroused by the sight -- his small cock throbbed more than ever -- he thought it best to move along and give these two their privacy.
He continued along toward the fire beyond the grove of trees, and soon heard low voices -- mostly men's voices, but also the higher-pitched sound of boys. As he stepped into the clearing, it was immediately apparent that he had not found the place where the boys were camped. Before him was a tableau of adult sexuality... displaying all the things about which Commander Mustafa had spoken... and THEN some. He counted eight men, in their bright red uniform shirts, and two boys clad in purple. As his eyes scanned the scene, he gazed at a pair of soldiers standing with their bodies entwined... kissing and embracing in a much more aggressive way than were the man and boy he had just passed. But like that other pair, these two were also stroking each other's cocks, and they were not shy about grunting out their growing lust. Another pair lay on a sleeping mat on the ground, facing in opposite directions, pants open, and sucking each other's cocks in a leisurely 69.
On the ground next to the fire, a boy lay on his back on the covered ground, his pants and undergarment removed, and he was being fucked by a soldier who had his trousers pulled down around his knees. The boy's slender legs where pushed back toward his armpits, and the man's glistening oiled cock was thrusting into the lad's exposed anus. The thought ran through Salim's mind: the fucking of a boy seems much like how a maiden is penetrated. The boy's right hand grasped his own cock -- a slender 5-incher that he masturbated in jerky strokes. The boy's left hand reached up to stroke the erection of a soldier who knelt beside the lad's head. This second soldier had his pants pushed down and this shirt hiked up, and he was caressing the boy's hair while squeezing his own ball sack.
Salim's scanning eyes finally came to rest on the last cluster of bodies, glowing in the dim light of the small campfire and the autumn moon. A soldier was reclining on a sleeping mat, his upper body propped up on his elbows, his legs apart, his pants open and pulled down a bit. Between his legs knelt a boy, naked below the waist, his head bobbing at the soldier's crotch, with slurping gutteral pleasure-noises coming from his mouth.
The globes of the boy's buttocks were raised up high, glowing white in the moonlight. Beside the crouching boy knelt a soldier who was pouring some fluid from a small bottle onto his hand, and then smoothing it onto his erect cock. Then the soldier poured a bit more on his fingers and glided them between the boy's ass cheeks.
"Agh! Yes, boy! You DO have a talented mouth!" moaned the man sitting on the ground. "Uh, yes! Keep taking it deep, just like that! I swear by the Prophet's beard, you give the best blow-job I've ever had," he lied.
"And he takes two fingers as smoothly as the most experienced bottom-boy in the Corps of Janissaries," said the soldier who was finger-fucking the lad in preparation for a fuck. "It's so nice when a new recruit knows how to join his comrades in night-time fun, like our new friend Latif, here." The man winked at the other soldier.
'Latif?' thought Salim; 'that's the name they gave to....'
"Lech?" he blurted out, then put his hand to his mouth in embarrassment.
"Well if it isn't the commander's boy! You're Salim, right?" said a soldier. "Didn't think we'd see you until daybreak. Come on over and join us, lad; we'll show you a good time. Latif, tell your friend how much fun we're having."
The 13-year-old had stopped his sucking and was now sitting up. A trail of saliva dripped down his chin, and he looked embarrassed. His adolescent erection, which was rather impressive for a boy his age, was beginning to wilt.
"Hi, Sacha," he said sheepishly.
Salim had known Lech all his life, though they had not been close friends. The two had grown up in neighboring villages 3 miles apart, and they saw each other perhaps a dozen times each year. As Salim stood silent at the edge of the clearing, his mind was stuck on the term he'd now heard twice tonight: 'bottom-boy'.
"Come on, comrade. The commander may not value your friendship, but we certainly do," said the man with the oiled cock who knelt next to Lech/Latif.
"No... no thank you, sirs.... I'm looking for the place where the other boys are camped. My young cousin is there."
"Ah, a shame. Maybe some other night, eh? Well, let's see... go back the way you came for about 35 paces, then turn right. It's just over a slight rise. Can't miss it with this moon."
"Thank you, sirs," said Salim, as he quickly retreated from the scene.
"Damned pretty, that Salim," said a soldier as the boy disappeared into the darkness.
"Aye, but we have two handsome young comrades here with us still, right lads? Let's get back to our fun.... Latif, raise up that beautiful ass for me again. There, that good. Are you ready for a good fuck, boy?"
In only a couple of minutes, Salim was back in the area of the camp where the bulk of the boys were settled in for the night. Blanket-covered lumps lay motionless on the ground... some clustered in twos and threes, others by themselves. The only sound Salim heard was a quiet whimpering... a boy crying. He walked to the source of the sound.
"Sacha!! I knew you'd come back!" Nine-year-old Damir jumped up, wearing only his thin cotton undergarments, and hugged Salim.
A couple of the lumps on the ground made shushing noises. "Keep it down, kid!" said a voice.
"Cousin," whispered Damir; "they said you would be spending the whole night with the commander, but I knew you would come back to be with me. I got a sleeping pad and a blanket for you, and laid them out here beside me. Brrr... it's cold."
As Damir slipped back under the wool blanket, Salim took the lad's long cloak and put it on top for extra warmth. Then he shucked off his uncomfortable hobnail boots and his uniform pants and shirt and crawled under his own blanket. Seeing that his cousin had brought over his cloak, Salim arranged it on top of himself just as he had done for Damir.
"Cousin," whispered Salim; "you were crying. Are you alright?"
"I was just lonely, Sacha. I miss my family so much! And I was sad that you were not here with me. But I'm not sad anymore."
The older boy snaked his arm beneath the youngster's covers and patted his back. "I'll stay with you. Don't worry. But there's one thing... you must start calling me 'Salim'. There is no longer a Sacha. And you must get accustomed to being Damir instead of Daniil. Will you try?"
"Yes, Sach... I mean Salim," he said with a giggle.
After they had lain together in silence for a couple of minutes, Damir whispered "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. What?"
"After you left, all the older boys were talking about something, but I couldn't figure out what, and they wouldn't tell me. A young soldier said he would explain everything if I would spend the night with him, but a sergeant told him to leave me alone, cause I was too young. Could you tell me what the words mean?"
"Well... like what words?"
"Let's see. There was 'jack-off' and 'blow-job' and 'fucking'... and maybe some others."
Salim grinned. So recently the innocent, now he considered himself the expert. "Here, let's arrange the covers so we can scoot close together and talk."
When they were side-by-side, Damir snuggled close to his cousin, and they draped their arms around each other. "Now, tell me the secrets," whispered the youngster.
"Well, these things are called sex, which is the pleasure feeling that men get. And boys can get it too. It comes from the place you pee from."
"You mean like when you rub your pee-pee and it gets stiff?"
"Yeah, that's it. But big kids call it a cock, and it's fun to get together with a friend and feel each other's cock... that's called jacking each other off... and to use your lips and tongue to suck the other guy's cock... that's called a blow-job."
"Have you ever done these things, cousin?"
"Yeah; a few times. You know Havel, from my village?"
"Sure!"
"Well, he and I would play the sex games. And sometimes we would rub our cocks together and it felt really good. But men do a thing called fucking, where they put their cock into the other person's bottom hole to make themselves feel good. But I've heard that it hurts a lot when a man does that to a boy, so I'm not ever going to do it." Salim hoped he would be forgiven this lie. Only 15 minutes before, he would have willingly given his body to Commander Mustafa. But he wished to shield his young cousin, as the commander wished to shield Salim.
"As you get older your cock grows bigger, and the good feelings when you play with it get stronger. Here, reach between my legs and feel mine."
Damir slid his hand down Salim's side, to his hip, and then to his crotch. Through the thin cotton of the undergarment, his small hand explored the shape of Salim's penis, which had quickly pulsed to full erection. Salim untied the waist, and the boy reached in to fondle the stiff boyish rod.
"It's long, cousin! And fat too! And the balls in your sack are big as robin's eggs."
"No, Damir. I am still small compared to men and older boys." At 4 inches, though, he was ahead of the majority of his 11-year-old age mates, and the pleasure-feelings his cock could generate increasingly occupied his thoughts.
"Salim... do you want to feel mine too? It's stiff, just like yours."
"OK. But to do it right, we should take off these undergarment and be naked."
"Yes; let's!" said the eager youngster.
In an instant, the two prepubescent boys were pressing their naked bodies together. Salim rolled them both over so Damir lay atop him, their stiff penises pressing together.
"This feels REALLY good!" whispered the younger boy, as his hips began to move in little jerks.
"There's another thing boys can do, Damir. Do you want to kiss?"
Damir giggled, but nodded his head in consent. As their lips came together, Salim felt a surge of erotic energy, and he wrapped his arms tightly around his cousin's small frame. Damir was as instinctively talented at tongue-kissing as Salim had been, and they hungrily licked and sucked at each other's mouths as their bodies pressed and slid together. Salim's hands glided over the boy's back and the slender mounds of his little ass.
"Cousin," said Damir; "could I see what it's like to suck your pee-pee... I mean your cock?"
"Sure! That would be great! Scoot down under the covers and kneel between my legs." Salim couldn't help but picture Latif, kneeling between the soldier's spread legs to suck his cock. "And then I'll suck your's too." He did not want Damir to ever become a bottom-boy.
The youngster disappeared under the blankets, sliding his body down along Salim's, his belly and chest grazing along Salim's cock as he went. When Salim felt hot breath on his penis, he held his breath. And when the boy's warm wet mouth surrounded his plump cockhead, Salim moaned softly. Havel had done this for him only a few days ago, and he loved the sensation more than anything he could think of.
But Damir was not nearly as skilled at this as Havel. He was using too much suction and not enough sliding. His teeth continued to scrape the shaft, even after Salim told him not to.
"Let's switch places, OK?" said Salim
As Damir lay on his back and Salim dove beneath the covers, it occurred to the older boy that he loved the sensation of a stiff penis in his mouth almost as much as he liked to be sucked by Havel. He inhaled deeply of the scent of the little boy's crotch. It was complex and intoxicating... not as earthy as Havel's, but every bit as erotic.
His tongue came out and traced a line from the point where Damir's penis met his ball sack, to the little nozzle at the tip of his foreskin. Then he took the little erection between his wet lips and slid down, letting his tongue dance along the shaft. The cock was considerably smaller than Havel's. But though it was barely over 2 inches long and the girth of Salim's finger, Damir's erection was as rigid and smooth and satisfying as Havel's. And Salim set about pleasuring his cousin... and in the process pleasuring himself. Sometimes he would shift down to the round ball sack... licking and sucking... playing with the round pebbles within.
After several minutes of gentle pleasuring, Salim decided he should see if he could get Damir to have the same kind of pleasure-spasm that he and Havel could produce in each other's cocks. Salim pulled the tight foreskin all the way down the shaft to completely expose the cute little cockhead. His lips moved up and down rapidly along the slender penis, giving just the right suction, just the right tongue action. Damir was squirming around like he would jump out of his skin, and in another moment Salim could feel the erection throbbing as the special feeling pulsed through it.
When Salim came back up, his cousin was ecstatic. This was clearly his first dry orgasm, and he hugged his older cousin tightly and snuggled against him.
"You are so good to me, Salim," he said, and then yawned. "I'm so lucky we will be together in the army." And almost like he had been hit over the head with a hammer, little Damir closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.
After a while, Salim separated himself from his cousin's sleeping embrace and lay on his back. His cock was still hard... still demanding his attention. Reaching down, he gently ran the foreskin up and down over the head of his penis, using his thumb and two fingers. Yes! That's what it needed. Then he had a thought. He brought two fingers of his other hand to his mouth and coated them with spit. Spreading his legs, he gently rubbed them along his tight anus... discovering the exciting sensations that such stimulation could produce. As he continued with the anal play, his right hand returned to the familiar motions of masturbation. Yes! This was different. This was better! As his fingers moved faster on his cock, the middle finger of his other hand slid back and forth, an inch or so inside the tight hole. The urgency just kept building, and building, and building....
And then it exploded. Twice as good... three times as good as the usual tingle he got when he orgasmed. He was out of breath as he lay there, holding his penis in his hand, with a finger still lodged in his bottom hole.
This is why boys let themselves be fucked, he thought. He could understand that it would hurt to take a man's big cock, but the commander seemed to be saying you could get accustomed to even that. And Lech and that other boy seemed to enjoy it.
These thoughts were Salim's last of the night, as he too drifted off to sleep.
The adventure he had waited for all his life had already begun.
End of Part 2 The Sultan will make his appearance in Part 3! Let me hear from you. Mail: bil47@yahoo.com