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-Emri
+{Lincoln's Pride}+
Part 6
"This will let my baby have me when he needs me," he said when he strapped the square watch to my wrist. "It's a camera so I can always see and hear what you're doing." He slid his phone to active and then hit an app that instantly popped up a camera view from my wrist. I saw my face staring back at me on his phone. I smiled at myself.
"Now, if you need me you just hit the daddy button." He pointed to the watch face with hands and hours. On the side was a little button and when I hit it his phone vibrated and a little window popped up saying "Baby needs you." He turned his head and whispered into his phone. It came out through the watch, "Yes, my heart? What do you need?"
"Wow, sir. That's... wow," I smiled at him. He leaned over and kissed my smile, bringing his face to my cheek to cup it adoringly.
"I always keep up with my boy. When you need me, I am here. With this, I can see that my boy is focusing in his classes and no one is bothering him," he beamed proudly.
"Thank you, sir," Something inside me felt special that he cared so much. No one had looked out for me like that before.
We were parked in front of a shiny glass building where I would take my classes. It was attached to the university, but it was its own private offering for foreigners taking language classes and houseboys learning to take care of Arab men. He told me all about it on the way there and even gave me a brochure though it was in Arabic. It showed blonde boys like me in navy blue uniforms preparing meals, making beds, sitting in classes with Arab instructors.
The blonde boys always looked so focused, happy to be learning to serve. I wasn't sure I would get into the houseboy parts, but he explained that it is about learning the lifestyle of the world's elite. It wasn't focused on becoming gay. I'm not gay.
He pretended to fix the color of my navy blue polo shirt with the school's logo on the chest. It was a bit tight and hugged my pecs, so were the blue pants, but it covered me. He gave me one last kiss and I was reassured by the cologne he wore for me as it filled my nose and warmed my chest. We got out and he met me at the sidewalk, pressing a button on his key that made the car chirp securely.
Inside the large glass doors he stopped me for a second and brought me in for a last hug. It felt like he was sending me off for good. With his lips close to my ear, he said, "I know you will be frustrated for the first week, it is ok. They know what they're doing here. It's all part of becoming successful here. Don't think about the day to day or the menial tasks you'll be instructed to do. Think about me and making me proud, becoming my boy I can take around the world and mold into success. Ok, little one? Think before you act. You represent me here."
"Yes sir," I nodded uneasily, unsure of what was to come. He slipped my backpack up my arm and over my shoulder with one last squeeze to my bottom.
"Be good and do as you are told. If you need me, for whatever reason, even just to say hi. If you need me, press the button." He pushed past me then and I followed him to the reception desk. He spoke with the man behind the counter in Arabic and a few seconds later a tall, dark man appeared at my side. He wore an expensive suit like the one Mr. Hamad had on. He was older, maybe 40, but in awesome shape. He had at least 6-8 inches on my height and his imposing frame made me feel small.
He greeted Mr. Hamad warmly as though I weren't there and then sent him on his way to work. I turned and watched as he left through the glass doors with one last warm, hopeful look at me. I swallowed hard and instantly felt loss as he slipped out into the sunshine.
"Don't waste time, boy. There is much to learn here and I don't want to hear English," I heard the man say.
"I'm Lincoln, sir," I said with a smile and offered my hand but he didn't take it.
He came in uncomfortably close and I was hit with the scent of his natural, unshowered body. He had thick fur on his bulging arms and a look of disdain for me. "No, you are boy and I am sir and your English ends now. If you can't speak to me in Arabic then it is best to keep silent," he growled. I felt myself shrink into his shadow and felt my heart pounding in my ears.
"Yes... sir," I said and that was not the right answer. He roughly grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me forward towards a door. He started walking and pushed me along impatiently.
"Taharruk!" he said several times insistently. I guessed it meant let's go because he kept pushing me towards a doorway. This wasn't in the brochure.
He shoved me towards the door and then pushed it open for me. I nearly fell through it, but caught myself on the wall. I went through a hallway and then into a little classroom where two equally scared blonde boys sat in desks.
We looked at each other, each with faces of "What the fuck?" The man pushed me down into a desk beside them and roughly slipped off my backpack. He barked something at me in the language I didn't know and then opened my backpack and took out a notebook and a nice pen. He slapped it down in front of me and said something else and then walked away.
"What's going on?" I said to the blonde guy to my right when the man had left. He turned to me and said something in another foreign language I didn't understand. I guessed I was the only American.
"I Anders," he said and offered me his hand lightly.
"Lincoln," I said back, pointing to my chest as though speaking caveman and then shook his hand. I pumped it firmly and he winced. Maybe I needed to feel bigger than I was with the teacher.
"You very cute," he said and nodded with twinkling blue eyes as blush spread over his pale cheeks.
"Um thanks," I muttered and took my hand back. He was ok looking, sickly thin, not beautiful. I imagined the fat, older oaf of a man who must have ended up with him. If he had been anything resembling my Mr. Hamad, this Anders wouldn't be fawning for my attention.
I found supplies in my backpack. Two beautiful wood pencils sharpened for surgery, a brass pen with Mr. Hamad's name in script, and a black notebook with thick suede covers and a steel spiral. The front cover had my name scripted in gold print.
"Lincoln Karsten"
It was like someone had gone to a back-to-school sale at a palace. Inside the notebook was a note from Mr. Hamad folded neatly and sealed with a little gold sticker. I was pretty sure it was actual gold with his initials, "S.H." The note read:
"Sweet one. Make me proud. It will be hard, but you can do this. You are smarter than you think, and loved more than you understand."
His handwriting was from another time; beautiful, practiced script. I unfolded it completely, split the seal sticker in half and used it to tape the note to the inside back cover of the notebook.
I turned to see Anders checking it out and I closed the notebook quickly and shot him a glare. His lips spread into a thin line with a twinge of guilt in his eyes. This was not for him to see.
The instructor returned then and saw us turned towards each other. He barked angrily then and smacked the top of my desk. I jumped a little in my seat and we both faced the front.
The next few hours were him barking at us in Arabic. Not much made sense. He showed pictures of a kitchen and pointed things out to us and then had us repeat the words for fridge, stove, microwave, "Thalaja, muqid, mojadisugra," or something like that. Apparently I was doing better than the other two because he yelled at me less. We went through all kinds of household items and I struggled to take notes.
++++++
When we broke for lunch, the man led us like a chain gang into the university campus. He got us plates of bland salad and had us sit in different groups of Arab students. Anders sat with what looked like the math club, weak little guys with vests and glasses. The other guy sat with what looked like an eating club of chunky video gamers. My group was some kind of sports team. I was put directly in the middle of their group and though they had impressive muscles, they smelled like they hadn't heard of deodorant.
I expected them to be freaked out a little by having me plopped down in their midst, but they looked like they were used to this routine. The guy next to me was a little shorter and not as built as I was, but seemed to be the leader of this pack. They talked to me in Arabic until the instructor, "Sir," walked away.
"That prick is intense," said the guy next to me in a thick Arab accent with surprisingly good English. "I'm Khalid. Mr. Hamad chose me to lead your practice in the afternoons. I interned with his company the last two semesters. I won't be like Mr. Bashir, your morning instructor. He's intense. You play football?"
He had on a grey tank top and blue adidas workout pants with a pricy looking pair of gym shoes. The tank showed off his torso which wasn't exactly built, but his toned, almond skin showed he must have made it to the gym most days. He had thick black hair across his chest that matched the black swoosh of gelled hair on top of his head. He had a thick silver chain around his neck with a little crescent dangling between his pecs.
"I'm Lincoln, and no, but I did play baseball back in California," I offered and picked at the lettuce on my plate.
"Yes, I saw that in your file," Khalid noted as his big brown eyes flashed a smile at me. "Your photo set was most revealing as well!"
"I... uh... Oh god," I laughed nervously as he winked at me showing Mr. Hamad had likely included the full naked shots he took the day he hired me.
"Don't worry, it was just for my eyes," he nodded to the rest of the group. He put a hand on my shoulder and though he was smaller and weaker than me, the power Mr. Hamad had in his touch flowed through his hand.
My new watch interrupted us. Mr. Hamad's voice in Arabic flowed through it and Khalid grabbed my wrist. He brought it up towards his face and gave a wave, answering Mr. Hamad in Arabic. The two of them laughed. I sat there lost between the exchange. I didn't know what they were saying, but it attracted the attention of Khalid's friends at the table and they didn't look at me respectfully. I looked down at my salad and tried to ignore them.
"I can tell he is going to be a very good boy, right, boy?" Khalid said and brought my wrist back in front of me. I saw Mr. Hamad smiling at me from the watch face.
"You will, little one. I know you will make me proud," he said and offered me a hopeful smile.
I nodded, feeling like a total ass. I didn't know what this was all about, but I felt like a pet dog dropped off at the daycamp.
"Use your words, little one," Mr. Hamad said with a suddenly stern look. "My boy will make me proud." There wasn't a question in his tone.
"Yes... sir," I said feeling my stomach turn. I looked over at Khalid who had a smile like he'd just won the lottery. He was small enough for me to pummel easily. I could wipe that look off his face and show them I wasn't the hungry little fag they were describing.
But then I looked back at Mr. Hamad from my wrist and I knew this was part of my training. I also knew I really wanted back in his arms tonight to continue what he'd started on last night. I had to trust that this had a purpose. He did want to help me grow. "I will make you proud, sir."
"I know baby boy. I have a meeting now, but I will be there to check your progress in two hours. I promise. Be good for Khalid," He said and then tapped something to turn off the video. The watch went back to telling the time. 13:30.
"Eat, little one," Khalid said to me with a grin to see how far he could push me.
"Dude, c'mon. That's my thing with him. Not with you," I said tilting my head to the side so I didn't have to see anyone but him.
"Dude?" he said. His look turned serious and he gave my shoulder a squeeze. "I pretty much own you for the afternoon, and I have a lot to teach you before he comes. Now eat your salad like a good little boy... or do you want to go back to Mr. Bashir, the morning instructor. He's not nearly as nice."
I turned back to my salad, keeping my eyes down. I hadn't realized how quiet the table of guys had gotten. I felt their eyes on me, watching to see if Khalid had power over the much larger blonde guy.
And he did. I thought about Mr. Hamad being upset with me if I embarrassed him here. Sometimes you have to sacrifice to get better things later. I knew when I got home he would reward me for letting Khalid be the big dick in front of his friends. I took a few bites of the bland salad and kept my eyes down. Soon the table returned to conversation in Arabic.
I felt Khalid's hand on my back. We were sitting with the wall behind us so no one could see as he worked his hand around the waist of my uniform pants. He groped at my ass and I flinched, but kept eating without looking up.
"You want a bite, Lincoln?" he asked in a friendly tone and the smell of salty goodness hit my nose. I looked up and saw him holding a thick potato wedge in front of me. I thought it was a peace offering so I reached for it.
"Thanks," I said, but he pulled it back.
"When a man offers food to your face, the correct response is not to reach for it. It is not how things are done here," he started. I lowered my hand back to the table.
"It is not an offer of food. It is an offer to feed you, a sign that he will take care of your needs. Let him provide and show your appreciation," he said and brought it to my lips. I looked around the table and saw five faces staring at me. The light-skinned muscled guy across from me licked his lips thoughtlessly.
"You say please sir. Or if with Mr. Hamad you say `yarja baba,' please daddy. It will show you know your place. You bring him pride by showing you know your place," Khalid said gently. "You should speak to me as though I am him. It will be good to practice on me."
"Yarja baba," I whispered.
He pressed the potato through my lips and all the way to the back towards my throat. I gagged a little, but started to bite it. He pulled it back with a smile and then forced it in again. I trapped it this time with my teeth and he let go. I turned away from the group and chewed it up.
"Now, shukraan baba, thank you, daddy," he said.
"Shukraan baba," I said as I swallowed.
"That's good. Let's go now. We are due in the gym in 5 minutes. Leave the trays. Follow me," Khalid said and stood. I stood next to him and our size difference became apparent once again. He was about Zaid's height, but he seemed completely unfazed looking up at me. He put a hand to my shoulder and turned me towards the door and then walked ahead.
"Mr. Hamad will teach you how to be a business man in your own right. However, Lincoln, you must know that white boys are always below us," Khalid said as I followed him across a courtyard of intricate blue tile and around a babbling fountain.
"You are tall, strong, and," he paused and turned to me, "Honestly you know you are beautiful. Sun-kissed hair, eyes like the ocean, a body like ancient art... and that ass," he turned me slightly and gave it a squeeze, "You are truly a gift of nature, Lincoln. There are many here who would do business with you just to afford the time taking you in. I can see why Mr. Hamad chose you. Your spirit is calm, your face is the picture of sweet, naive, American innocence... What was I... saying?" Khalid smiled, lost in his praise of my physique with his hand firmly cupping my ass. I felt him press against my leg with a massive bulge in his workout pants.
"That I am below you," I laughed thinking he must have some dark fantasies about me going on in his head.
"Yes," he continued walking towards a glass door without catching the irony. "You must not allow yourself to be filled up with all of the adoration you will receive. That is how many boys like you get ruined here. They forget that first and foremost your value lies in your submission to us, your devotion to your lion. I have watched boys with half your looks be spoiled by their lions until they are disrespectful brats who must be put away quietly elsewhere."
We went through the glass doors and I followed up three flights of stairs to another hallway. At the end was a private room the size of a standard double garage. The walls were mirrors except for one side which was all glass looking out over the dry mountains. There was a scale, sets of free weights, two treadmills, and a few other cardio machines. One corner had yoga mats and a cabinet.
"This should be stocked for us. I expected you to be smaller," Khalid began as he moved towards the cabinet. "Go ahead and strip, I think these clothes will still work for you."
He pulled out a small pile of clothes and set them on the weight bench. He turned to me and instantly frowned seeing I was still standing there.
"Do you need assistance?" he said mockingly. "You can't workout in your learning uniform. Put these on."
I took a step towards him and looked at the clothes. I held up a small blue jockstrap with an oddly small pouch, a grey tank top that was size small, and blue stretchy shorts that would barely cover my ass. I slid off my shirt and realized he was doing the same. He already looked prepared for a workout.
I folded my shirt and then went to take off my shoes. I set the shoes against one wall and put my shirt on top of them. I unbuttoned my pants and slid them off, folding them nicely as well. I turned to him in my blue briefs and saw he was already completely naked.
"Woah, fuck," I said without thinking as I slid my briefs to my ankles. Khalid had the biggest cock I'd ever seen. It was soft but arced down four inches past a set of huge egg-shaped balls. His cock was two shades darker than the rest of him and thicker than a boa constrictor. It made it look even more foreign against his smaller frame.
"You will get used to us, little one," Khalid smiled and his eyes looked at my soft cock. I covered it with my hands feeling completely insufficient.
"No need for shame, Lincoln. No one here expects you to measure up to us. It would be a medical anomaly if you did!" Khalid laughed. He came towards me, swinging the arab club as he picked up the jockstrap and held it to me. "This should work. I got a boy's size so it stays on you." He didn't seem to be joking.
I stepped into it and pulled it up my legs. The pouch barely covered my cock and balls, my blonde pubes poked out of the sides. It was tight, but stretchy and I felt somewhat secure. I finished dressing as I watched him wrestle his monster into his own well-stretched red jockstrap. It poked out obscenely like he'd smuggled a Big Mac.
I couldn't take my eyes off of it as I slid up the too small shorts. They cupped my package and had this built in support under it that lifted and displayed it. I paid it little attention though as he sat on the weight bench and tied his shoes. He made no move to put on anything other than the jockstrap.
I unthinkingly licked my lips as he turned and squatted on the floor to fold his clothes into a small pile. His dark ass spread in two perfect bubbles as I slipped on the tight tank top that showed off my chest. It was smooth with a small patch of hair creeping up the center.
I got caught up thinking about how I'd look pumping him full of my thick, white cock in that squatted position. I'd make him bounce on it while I sucked at his smooth, perfect skin. That fat Arab snake would bounce in the stretched jock every time I drove deep inside him. He'd beg me for all of it as I showed him I was most definitely not beneath him.
"All right," he said as he finished and turned back to me. "Let's start with... Oh!" His eyes traveled down to my crotch.
"What?" I said and looked down to see I was fully hard and poking out. My cock had popped out of the jock and was snaking up the side of the shorts against my right thigh. "Oh fuck!" I moved to cover it with my hands and backed away from him.
"Fuck? I don't think your ass or Mr. Hamad would handle that well," Khalid laughed, "It's all right Lincoln, let's just try to get through a workout, ok?"
"Yeah, uh sorry. It's just been awhile since I got off and uh that girl we saw in the cafe was looking at me," I nodded, keeping my hands over my cock which made no attempt at deflating.
"That didn't happen and I'm sure Mr. Hamad keeps you shooting off like a cannon every few hours," Khalid laughed, "But anyways, let's get warmed up." He walked over to me, swinging the massive soft tool in his red jockstrap. He took me through a few stretches and yoga moves.
My cock refused to go soft and every time he touched my arms to put me in the pose he wanted, there was a fresh spot of precum in my shorts. All I could think about was his dark brown globes he kept finding reasons to show me. I wanted so badly to slip in between them. He brought out my need to seed.
He pretended not to notice until his hand reached to bend me at the waist into what he called a "warrior" pose. It stretched the crotch of the shorts and all the leaking I'd done formed a big wet spot on them.
"Woah, Lincoln, c'mon man. I know I'm hot, but you're not going to get through this until we drain that little pipe," he laughed.
"Little!?" I scoffed, but then he grabbed his big fluffy package and wagged it at me and I closed my mouth.
"Comparatively so. I mean I'm sure back home you're the big stud. I'm sure the chicks in your high school begged to swing from that, but... well," He grabbed his bulge and it started to grow.
"I... yeah dude," I suddenly puffed up. "I got by."
"Take the shorts off. They're already soaked. Don't make the poor laundry people's job any harder," Khalid pushed me back into standing position and he tugged at the waistband of the shorts.
"What's going on there boys?" Mr. Hamad suddenly spoke from the watch on my wrist.
"I... uh nothing sir. Just pumping the old iron," I tried to play it casually, suddenly remembering he could see and hear everything from the vantage of my wrist.
"His body, sir. It simply refuses to calm down to get through the workout," Khalid said. "Shall I show you?"
"I think you'd better," Mr. Hamad said. "Do as he says, boy, shorts off."
"I'm ok sir, really. Maybe if I go jerk off in the bathroom really quick. I just... There was this hot girl... and..." I started.
"A girl? No no, and I'm not paying good money for you to rub out your little problems in the bathroom. Follow directions or I'll have to punish you when I come pick you up. Don't waste time, Lincoln. I already stepped out of my meeting to see what all the talk was about over there," Mr. Hamad looked impatiently up at me from the face of my watch.
Khalid snapped the watch off my wrist and held it up so Mr. Hamad could get a full view. I peeled the tiny, soaked shorts down my thighs and off. I stood there in a jockstrap sopping wet with my precum.
"Oh," They both exclaimed together.
"See, sir? I tried to have him go on, but this could get dangerous," Khalid said and leaned towards me. He pulled down the waist of my jockstrap and my hard cock tumbled out and bounced.
Khalid held the watch so Mr. Hamad could get a close up. "Look at this," Khalid said. He gripped my cock hard and I felt a steady stream of precum leak out of me.
"It's like a river, sir. I've never seen anything like it," Khalid exclaimed and started to milk my cock.
"It is a mighty little pink tool," Mr. Hamad agreed. "Well I don't want him thinking every time he gets hard there will be someone there to satisfy it."
"Wait! No! Look at him, Mr. Hamad. He's wearing almost nothing and waving that huge bulge in my face, dude," I interjected trying to save myself.
"So you're saying a real man's bulge makes you hard. You're saying you are cock hungry for Khalid?" Mr. Hamad said.
"No, I... That's not what I... ahh shit," I said as I gave a shiver. Khalid stroked my cock in his hand.
"We could ice it, sir," Khalid suggested, looking up at me with an icy grin.
"No, fuck, please no!" I backed away from his hand, but he gripped my cock and pulled me back.
"He's joking, little one," Mr. Hamad said. "Well, Khalid, you are in charge of him for the afternoon. I will be there shortly so do what you think is best. Maybe he has had too much sexual stimulation at home. His body isn't used to being without a man's touch this long. Either way. I have to get back to wrap up this meeting. Be a good boy, Lincoln."
"Yes sir I will make sure he is," Khalid said. The watch went back to telling the time as Mr. Hamad disconnected. Khalid took the watch and set it up on the shelf with the camera eyeing us so Mr. Hamad could check in if he liked.
"Please, just let me go and jerk it and I promise I'll keep it together and we can finish the workout," I tried to bargain with him.
"I don't think that's what he said. Should we bother him again and ask?" Khalid smiled and kept stroking my cock just slowly enough to keep me on the edge.
"Ok, uh... then can you speed that up, bro?" With Mr. Hamad gone, I was a little less anxious and started to feel what my body was doing as he stroked me lazily. Each firm tug sent a little wave through me.
"You want that, boy?" Khalid stopped and gave my cock a hard squeeze. Another drizzle of precum leaked out and onto the floor. He gripped his growing bulge with his other hand.
"Yes... yeah... c'mon bro just do it," My voice had the needy edge of begging to it.
"What will you do for me?" Khalid stopped and held my cock in a tight grip.
"What? um... What do you want?" I said, my mind so crazy I'd do whatever to get off.
Khalid let go of my cock and pushed me down to lay on the weight bench. He came and straddled me, leaned down and slid his hands up my tummy. My body shivered at his warm touch. He slid up my tank top and I raised my arms as he slid it off.
"I'm not usually with someone younger than me. I forget what it's like," he smiled down at me in a moment of honesty as he raised up off of me.
"Like what?" I asked with interest as my cock pulsed behind his ass.
Khalid rested on my tummy. I was happy at how light he was and fit so easily in my lap. I raised my legs up to an A shape with my feet on the weight bench so he could lay back against my knees.
I pushed him back against my legs and he let me, but then stopped and smiled. "Oh you want to play daddy with me?" He laughed and grabbed his bulge. He popped it against my stomach a few times and I reached for it.
"Is it hard?" I asked, not sure by its always massive size.
"Uh let's check," Khalid laughed and pulled at the waistband. He let it flop out and secured the waistband under his furry nuts. "A little bit."
He grasped it firmly and smacked it against my stomach. I was mesmerized and my hard cock was poking him between his beautiful ass. I started to hump a few times and it rubbed over his hole. He was light enough to bounce on me and I was glad I'd been working on my situps. My sweaty abs glistened beautifully under the light. His hands rubbed down over my pecs.
"Yeah you're not going to fuck me, Linky-dink," he laughed.
"What? that's not a good nickname for me," I laughed up playfully at him and bit my smile.
"No?" he reached behind him and grabbed my cock. "I think it fits."
"You'll think it's pretty big when I'm jamming it inside you," I said feeling horniness take me over.
Khalid sit up and drummed on my chest a few times. He slid up and brought the cock close to my lips. A strange curiosity took me over in wanting to see how big it could get. He kept sliding closer until the tip poked against my chin. I smelled the scent of his sweat. He pushed closer.
Khalid lifted his cock and pushed forward again. I looked up at his swelling meat as it thickened and wagged over me. His nuts hit against my chin and then bumped up over my lips. They landed right over my nose. He plopped them on either side of it and smacked my forehead with the thick shaft of his cock.
I breathed in his heavy musk of sweat and neglected hygiene and my mind raced with want. It was disgusting but it turned me on and made my cock leak onto my stomach. I licked up under his balls, tasting his salty buildup from the day's activities. I lipped at one nut as his body made an involuntary lurch forward to show he enjoyed it.
"Yes, boy," he groaned from above me and slid back as my lip held on to his right nut. I let it stretch out and then it made a "Pop" against my wet lips as it left a smear of his funk across my chin.
He slid back a little and brought the head of his cock just over my eyes. "This is what it looks like, Lincoln," he lifted up off of me with his feet on the floor, straddling me. "This is what a real man's cock looks like. Not those little things white boys seem so proud of. You will learn to take it all and serve it."
He played this game with it where he waved it slowly over me as my eyes followed it. Occasionally he'd quickly smack my face with it and then raise it out of reach again. "You want it, little one?" He asked in a low growl that didn't hold much of a question.
"Yes sir," I admitted as the thick monster danced around my sky.
He brought it down and pointed the thick head of the beast at my lips. He slid one hand under my head and lifted it up off the weight bench. The other hand gripped his shaft as he pushed into my mouth.
My mouth stretched painfully almost like when the dentist wants to work on that last tooth in the back. He had me spread open as his thick meat pushed into me. It was comically large and I had no idea what to do with it. I just laid there, mouth agape, staring up at him blinking my blue eyes as he looked down with a smile.
"You have no idea what to do here, do you?" he laughed.
"Uh Uhh," I mumbled and tried to shake my head side to side as much as his impaling cock would let me.
"That's ok, just get it wet and I'll fuck your mouth. This isn't exactly amateur size," he lamented honestly.
I nodded around my very stuffed mouth. He slowly started to ease it out and then back in slowly until I started to gag. "Ok," he said, "That's our depth measurement." He put a finger there around his shaft right above my lips. He pulled back out of my mouth and I licked my lips and flexed my jaw.
"That's about a third," he said. "We'll need to work that up to at least half." He sounded so scientific about it.
"Do we?" I said questioning its importance. "I think a third is pretty admirable," I rubbed my jaw with my hand.
"No. It's important you learn to keep up with us. You will adjust." Khalid nodded assurance.
He kept his hand there at the safe spot on his shaft and then poked back at my lips. I parted them and he shoved back in until his fingers hit at my lip just as my throat lurched around the invading tip.
"So new," he said as his body followed it with a loud "Uhhh yeah." He started working up a good rhythm and I watched as the seemingly endless shaft fed in and out of me. Every time I looked up into his brown eyes they were fixed intently down on me, studying me and fighting to stay open as I made his body start to jerk around over me. I watched his abs tense up and release in quick jolts as he worked into a more urgent rhythm.
"Ah fuck that does feel good. Soft little lips there, baby boy," he encouraged. He reached down and gripped me with his palm on my right cheek and his thumb slung around my chin. He rubbed at my jaw, massaging it as he tried to shove in deeper. I started to sputter around his cock but his hand pushed on my jaw to keep it open.
"C'mon, don't be a pussy, Lincoln," he encouraged, "I know you can do this."
I nodded and felt his cock inch farther into my throat.
"Oh yeah, that's it, baby, that's it. You got this," he said and I watched his eyes flutter as he was overcome with pleasure.
"Fuck yeah, take that man meat. Taste what a real man is, Linky-dink," he mocked me as he shoved in and out of my mouth, fucking my throat raw. I was gasping for air but my nostrils only inhaled his musky Arab funk. It went deep in my nose and burned my throat as it worked down to my lungs which took it in like a drug. My eyes opened wide as tears built at the corners and ran down my cheeks but I wanted more.
"Fuck, baby boy, fuck I'm going to... fuck," Khalid yelled. He looked down at me with big, desperate, brown eyes and started to empty his balls down my throat. I squirmed under him as his Arab juice poured into me. He started slamming his cock harder as it tensed and shook and filled me to capacity. I sputtered some of it out around his shaft and it leaked down my chin and onto my neck and in my ears.
"Fuck yes, take my seed, fuck Lincoln, fuck fuck fuck!" Khalid barked as he bounced on my mouth driving his cock down my desperate throat. Our eyes locked the entire time. I knew he wanted to see what he did to me, how he made me feel.
"MMMM" I screamed as I struggled to keep up with his flow. I wanted to push him off of me, but my primal need for his cum kept my arms at my side.
"Fuh, Uhk, Yeah," He punctuated each syllable by jamming more of his cock in me until he finished and held it there, lodged inside my throat.
"Uhhh, uhh, yep," He was bent over, breathing raggedly as he finished. I felt the last bit of his cum slide down to start its journey to my tummy. He heaved a few more times, regaining his breath.
"Ok not bad. Not the best, but not bad," He said after finally calming down. "Next time I won't be so gentle," he said and slowly started to disengage his cock. He slid it out and the fat slippery meat slid over my chin and down onto my chest as he backed off.
I sat bolt upright and fought for air. There was cum in every passage and I felt lightheaded and disoriented.
"It's ok, little one," he said and rubbed my chest as he sat in my lap. I put my arms around his back then and slumped forward to rest my chin on his shoulder.
His arms slipped around me, "It's alright, little one. You will get used to us. You'll be ruined for any other sex, but you'll get used to us. It's ok now, breathe." He rubbed my back gently, comforting me from my lap. I felt his butt slide down my thighs and my hard cock popped up between us. I'd forgotten completely about needing to get off.
"Did you want me to suck you now?" he whispered and chewed on my earlobe.
"Um... Yeah ok," I said, not sure it even mattered anymore.
He let me go then and pushed me back down against the weight bench.
He turned around on me and pushed his ass back right against my face. It was the one part of him that was surprisingly clean.
"If you get the urge to lick around back there, I don't mind. It's good practice should he ever let you top though I don't think most men here would be into receiving from someone like you," he said nonchalantly and took my cock into his mouth.
I'd had exactly one blow job from a guy and it was Caleb and he was pretty awesome. Khalid was lazy about it. He slapped my cock against his tongue a few times and then just sort of bobbed on it. I put my hand on his head to try and force feed him like he'd done me, but he smacked it away.
"Rude," I heard him say and I laughed. I was intrigued by his brown hole between his spread cheeks. I put my tongue out and just touched it lightly. He squirmed happily and lipped at my cock. I thought about what Mr. Hamad did to my hole. I wasn't sure I was ready for it.
Imagining Mr. Hamad was not a way to make this last long. Soon I pictured him holding me in his arms and driving his cock inside me. I pictured that screwed up face he makes when he cums and how he bares his teeth at me when he's filling me up.
"AH, Oh Shit. I'm gonna... uhhhh" I started to shoot and Khalid pulled off my cock and pumped it with his hand. My cum flew up and I felt it land on my stomach and parts i couldn't see. My body tensed and shook and jerked and twisted as he roughly milked me.
"FUCCKKK," I screamed as I came and my body crashed again and again against the weight bench. "Fuck Fuck Fuck" He sat up, muffling my screams with his ass as I coated us with my thick, hot, white juice. He just lazily stroked me, shooting with each tug.
I collapsed back against the bench, sweaty and breathless with his ass on my lips.
"MMM" I squirmed and he suddenly raised up.
"Oh, sorry. I forgot you were down there," he said with an unimpressed tone.
He raised off of me, as I laid there regaining my breath. He walked over to grab a towel and when I opened my eyes he was standing over me looking down with adoring eyes.
"You really are beautiful, you know that?" He asked.
"Oh thanks," I whispered as I regained consciousness.
"Let's get you cleaned up before Mr. Hamad comes. I'm sure he will have more activity for you later." Khalid wiped me with the towel.
We went down and showered. He washed me gently with soap that smelled like his cologne. He explored me freely and it didn't feel out of place. I dressed again in my school uniform. Khalid led me out and waited with me for Mr. Hamad to arrive.
"He did very well today," Khalid said with praise. "Tomorrow though, we focus on the actual lesson."
Mr. Hamad laughed and slid my backpack off my shoulders. He opened the door to the sports car for me and I got in as he said, "You had an actual lesson?"
"Well, maybe," Khalid laughed. "Goodbye Lincoln, until tomorrow."
"Shukraan baba," I said, showing them I had paid attention.
"I am not your baba, and it is Mr. Hamad you should thank," Khalid winked and then kissed Mr. Hamad goodbye.
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We got home and Mr. Hamad slid the car into the dim garage and then leaned over and kissed me. "You did well, baby," he said and rubbed my hair. He took my backpack and led me in.
We walked in through the house and his phone started to chirp. He fished it out and answered the call, telling me, "Go in there to the kitchen. There will be a servant, tell him you need a snack." Mr. Hamad clumsily mussed my hair as he walked off with my backpack into a side room.
I went into the kitchen and saw a dark back towards me wearing a tight black tank top and red workout shorts.
"Hi, um, I'm... I'm supposed to get a snack," I said to the back thinking it must be a servant on his break.
"And I'm your daddy now?" the back said mockingly as it turned towards me with a laugh and I saw it was Zaid. He gave me a smile as he held up the protein shake he was mixing.
"Oh..." I turned to leave and find Mr. Hamad. I was in no mood to get into an argument when Mr. Hamad had been so good to me today.
"Wait," Zaid said and I froze. "Come on, I'll make you something, just sit there." I turned and saw him point to a set of large, leather high chairs ringing the outside of the kitchen island.
"No thanks. You would probably poison it anyways," I said only half joking.
"And ruin a beautiful ass before I've tasted it?" He smirked. "C'mon little one, I'm not so bad. Sit, boy."
I pulled up a chair and Zaid went for another tumbler in the cabinet. He put in a protein powder pack and then added some berries from a bowl he had on the counter. He added some ice, water, and yogurt and then dumped it all into the little blender. It whirred to life and I looked around the marble kitchen large enough to cook for a football team.
"So, what did you learn at school today? I hope you're not wasting my family's money. It's not cheap and I can't let them go broke buying wasteful boys from every continent," Zaid said as he set the glass in front of me. He pulled a silver straw from a drawer and plopped it into my cup.
I started to point around the kitchen at things and named them. He corrected my pronunciation and leaned over the counter next to me with his head propped up on his hands. I was just finishing telling him what Khalid had taught me about being offered food from a man when I noticed his face was inches from mine.
"You learned all of that today? I am impressed," his breath rushed to my nose and I smelled the strawberries from his shake.
I nodded. He kissed my forehead, "So smart."
"I thought you hated me. You were mean to me and embarrassed me in front of everyone," I said as I turned to him.
His hand slid down my back and cupped my ass. He shrugged but offered no excuse.
"Why are you here, Lincoln?" he whispered, suddenly serious.
"I'm interning and learning the business and culture here. I want to be important and make money like Mr. Hamad," I said confused.
"You think that is what Samir wants for you?" Zaid said with a hint of amusement.
"Yeah. Mr. Hamad is really great. He knows so much. He made all this happen," I waved my hand around the room. "If I can learn, make money. I can take care of my family."
"Samir made all this?" He laughed at me. "He was handed all of this. He mostly just charms clients and processes the deals Ali and I make. Our grandfather was the one who made all this. The ground keeps pumping out oil and we just try to not spend it all too fast. You're smarter than that, Lincoln." Zaid brushed his hand over my head letting his fingers tangle through my hair.
"Such beautiful hair and that face... perfection. Why not be a model or something with more purpose than Samir's lap boy? Such a waste," Zaid mused to himself.
"Zaid. I told you to stay away from him. I don't need him upset again," Mr. Hamad's voice called from behind us.
"It's ok, sir," I said. "He made me a snack." I held up the protein shake.
Mr. Hamad came and leaned over me from behind. He sipped at it and nudged Zaid away from us.
"The boy needs more than salad and discipline," Zaid said as he backed away. He spoke angrily and a little big brotherly. "He's not Emerson, you know. He has a voice and maybe he can be something if you don't force him to be a copy of Emerson."
Mr. Hamad and I both looked up at that comment.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"Fuck off, Zaid," Mr. Hamad said.
"And you're no Ali either," Zaid spat at his brother. He turned to me and his face softened. "Just take care of yourself, kid. Ok? Make sure whatever you do it is what you want."
Mr. Hamad grabbed my arm and pulled me off the high seat. He tossed my backpack on his shoulder, wrinkling the expensive suit he wore. He pushed me back towards the doorway out to one of the courtyards.
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Thanks for reading, Please let me know what you think: tarzanacide@gmail.com