Christmas with Sjoerd and Achmed
It's been two years since we last saw Sjoerd and Achmed. Achmed is a Moroccan taxidriver in Amsterdam, the Netherlands, and Sjoerd is a student in the same city. Although their relationship was based on sex mostly in the beginning it definitely evolved to something more and now, two years later, they're about to face their biggest challenge: Christmas with Sjoerds mother.
For weeks now Sjoerd was in a foul mood. His mother practically forced him to celebrate Christmas with her and her husband. Last year Sjoerd had been able to avoid the whole ordeal by going on vacation with Achmed but this year he had no excuse and saw no other option than to yield to her authority. Although he and Achmed were together for two years now Sjoerd had no idea what Achmed thought about Christmas. However, Sjoerd did know how Achmed thought about his mother and being in the same room with Sjoerds mother was probably not Achemds idea of peace of earth. To make matters worse Sjoerds mother couldn't stand Achmed either and she thought Sjoerds "deviation" would pass as long as Achmed would leave him alone. The last time they went to his mother he and Achmed hadn't been allowed to sleep in the same room and his mother didn't allow them more than 2 minutes in private. Every kiss, touch or sweet remark was met with disapproval and Sjoerd and Achmed were glad they were in the car back to Amsterdam Sundaynight.
The week after that dreadful weekend was one of the worst in Sjoerds life. Achmed didn't call and his phone was switched off. After a couple of days Sjoerd decided he couldn't wait any longer and he went to Achmeds apartment. Achmed wasn't home and, from the look of things, had only been home to sleep the last couple of days. There was only one other place where Sjoerd thought he could find Achmed: Rembrandtsquare, where they first met.
When Sjoerd arrived at the Rembrandtsquare he saw Achmed with some of his collegues. As soon as Achmed saw him, Sjoerds felt terrible. Achmed definitely wasn't happy to see him and Sjoerd was convinced Achmed was done with him. Just before Sjoerd gave in to his urges to turn around and run Achmed came towards him.
"Sjoerd, I think we need to talk" Achmed said. "But I'm not quite sure how to say it".
"Don't bother. My mother did it again. You don't want to be with me anymore" Sjoerd answered.
"Are you nuts?!" Achmed said. "I like you a lot. I might even love you. I'm just not sure how to tell you I hate your mother. If I never have to see her again it will still be too soon for me".
Sjoerd had started crying and promised to limit the visits to his mother to an absolute minimum. And now he had to tell Achmed they would have to spend two whole days with her in stead of being together for Christmas.
Achmed was a jumpy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. That was always the case when Sjoerd was out of sorts. It never meant something good was coming. Most of the time it was because he didn't pass an exam or if he needed an extra book for school, didn't have the money for it and didn't want to ask Achmed for it. That was one of the few things they ever fought about. Achmed would go to hell and back for Sjoerd to get him a light but Sjoerd never wanted to ask him for help.
Sjoerd walked around with a thundercloud around his head for weeks now and now, since this week it was Christmas, Achmed started to think that had something to do with it. He himself was raised to be a muslim, so Christmas didn't mean much to him. And since most of his family had moved back to Morocco a few years back he just let the family holiday pass. But Sjoerd did have family and last year his mother hadn't spoken to him for almost two months because he hadn't come over for Christmas. When thinking of Sjoerds mother he felt physically ill. God, after that first weekend there he was ready to kill her and, for a moment, he had thought about calling it quits with Sjoerd. He loved him, a lot, but that woman! Still, if he thought about the look on Sjoerds face that night at the Rembrandtsquare his heart ached. That night he realized he and Sjoerd were made for each other. They completed eachother, both mentally but mostly sexually. All the sexual adventures they had had over the past two years! They had had sex almost everywhere, legally and otherwise, but the best sex was the first time together after Achmed had dropped the Asian guy off at the airport. As soon as Achmed had come home he had undressed till he was naked and he had crawled in bed with Sjoerd, who was also naked. Achmed cuddled Sjoerd while Sjoerd was still asleep. Soon after Achmed had fallen asleep as well. A couple of hours later Achmed had woken up because he felt something on his dick. In his sleep he had boned up and, because he was lying so close to Sjoerd, his dick had slipped into Sjoerds ass. Because of that Sjoerd had woken up as well, sensing Achmeds dick up his ass. Sjoerd had encouraged Achmed to fuck him hard so Achmed had turned him over on his stomach and was lying on top of him. In one thrust his pushed his dick back inside Sjoerd causing Sjoerd to moan with pleasure. He started fucking Sjoerd hard and deep, which he could maintain for a few minutes before shooting a new load up Sjoerds ass. When Sjoerd felt Achmed cumming up his ass he shot his load in the sheets. Achmed turned to his side again, holding Sjoerd in his arms, keeping his dick in the young boys ass. They fell asleep like this again soon after the came.
All of a sudden Achmed felt his orgasm swell and when he came down from his post-orgasmic bliss he realized he had to freshen up. He came in his jeans by the memory of his first time alone with Sjoerd.
Sjoerd stood in fornt of Achmeds apartment building. Normally when he was standing here he was horny as hell but not this time. He had called Achmed he was on his way and they needed to talk.
"Well, it makes no sense to postpone the inevitable, so here we go" Sjoerd told himself and he entered Achmeds apartment, using the key Achmed had given him.
Inside it looked like the North pole had exploded. Everywhere Sjoerd looked he saw Christmas decorations, completed with a huge tree and his boyfriend, wearing nothing but a Christmas hat and a red thong.
"Ho, ho ho! Merry Christmas, baby" Achmed laughed.
Sjoerd loved Achmed for doing things like this but it made his current task a lot more difficult.
"Babe, I think you'll hate me for this but my mother called and demanded I would come home for Christmas. I know this for a couple of weeks now but I didn't know how to tell you. If you want I can go alone so you don't have to suffer her less than pleasant personality" Sjoerd began to ramble before Achmed cut him off.
"I already thought she had something to do with your mood swings the last couple of weeks" Achmed said. "Don't worry. If she wants you to come home for Christmas you should go home for Christmas. But she'd better be prepared for you to bring your boyfriend as well. I promise I will behave" Achmed said.
"At least, as long as she does" Achmed thought to himself.
"Have I told you lately how absolutely perfect you are?" Sjoerd asked. "How can I thank you?"
"Well, I am a little cold in the thong so I could use something to warm me up" Achmed smiled.
"You got it" Sjoerd said. "Oh, one last thing. Our attendance is requested on Christmas Eve".
Christmas Eve, 23h15. Never before did a night seem this long to both Sjoerd and Achmed. As soon as they had arrived at 18h15 from Amsterdam the stage for the pending drama had been set. Sjoerds mother made it very clear that she would have preferred Sjoerd coming alone but if it was this important to Sjoerd to bring a friend without calling in advance if that was ok she would deal with it. Well, deal ... Diner proved the next challenge. Sjoerds mother had made pork roast, thinking Achmed wouldn't eat that. Achmed denied her her victory by complimenting her on her choice and, after the first bite, told her he never had such a wonderful piece of pork. And this was the way the evening progressed. Sjoerds mother made comments she knew were insulting or degrading and expected Achmed to respond but Achmed didn't, over and over again. But now it was almost time to get some sleep and both young men were tired of being on guard all the time. But with that Sjoerds mother launched her final attack.
"Achmed, you can sleep in the guestroom. I don't think it's necessary for you and Sjoerd to sleep together" Sjoerds mother said.
"Mother, this is enough. Achmed and I sleep together for almost two years now and I'm getting sick and tired of you not being able to accept Achmed as my partner. You can choose: either you accept Achmed as my partner and behave towards him like you would ddo to a girlfriend or we're heading back to Amsterdam" Sjoerd said.
"Watch your tongue, mister" his mother responded. "You will address me with respect. If it's that important the two of you can take the bedroom in the attic but I expect you to keep it clean. I don't know what kinds of things the two of young normally do in the bedroom and I don't want to know. In my house you will respect my rules. Is that understood?"
Sjoerd didn't trust his mother. It was not like her to give in this easily and, in retrospect, the "attacks" tonight had been way softer than they had been the last time they were here. They had been able to counter all of them and in the final encounter they even prevailed. Something was wrong. She was up to something. Sjoerd was sure about it.
When Sjoerd and Achmed arrived at the attic Sjoerds discomfort only grew. Not only was there a king size bed and the door to the attic was even fitted with a lock.
"Achmed, something is wrong. My mother wouldn't yield like this. She's up to something."
"As long as she waits till morning it's ok with me" Achmed responded. "She sure doesn't believe in peace on earth". Sjoerd locked the door and walked over to Achmed.
"Well, can't worry now about things to come, can I?" Sjoerd grinned before kissing Achmed. "Right now I want to welcome the child Jezus on earth in my own way. Or should I say, our way?" Achmed asnwerd Sjoerds kiss and touched his crotch, feeling a huge erection.
"How long is that troubling you?" Achmed asked.
"Oh, probably from the moment we arrived" Sjoerd answered. "I only survived recalling all the hot things we did over the past 2 years and imagining all the sexy things we'll do in the future".
While talking Sjoerd tried to unbutton Achmeds shirt but, because he was so horny, he failed miserably. Afraid his shirt wouldn't survive if Sjoerd kept messing with it Achmed took over, undressing himself. Sjoerd followed his example and soon both men were naked with very hard dicks. They dove in bed started making out with an attitude. Not long after they were in 69 position, sucking eachother. Sjoerd moaned and moaned, enjoying Achmeds attention on his dick. He loved Achmed sucking him off and Achmed swallowing his load. But this time Achmed stopped way too soon for Sjoerds liking.
"Why did you stop?" Sjoerd asked, accusingly.
"Well, I thought you might want to fuck me?" Achmed answered, taking a very huge step there. You see, till now Achmed was a virgin when it came to getting fucked. Till now he had been a total top.
"Are you sure, Achmed?" Sjoerd asked.
"Yes, I want you to fuck me. No idea if I will like it but I want to find out with you."
Sjoerd didn't question Achmed again but immediately began rimming Achmeds ass and shoved a finger in it. Achmed was surprised how much he enjoyed this. In the past having even his own finger up his ass was enough to get him soft immediately but this time he noticed his dick got ever harder. Sjoerd inserted another finger and found Achmeds prostate. As soon as Sjoerd started massaging Achmeds prostate the young Moroccan man thought the world had stopped spinning. He was gasping for air while trying to moan at the same time, which, he found out, was physically impossible.
While Achmed was still trying to understand the sensations going through his body a new one was already approacing as Sjoerd positioned his hard dick against Achmeds hole. To his surprise Achmed relaxed almost immediately, allowing Sjoerd access. In one thrust Sjoerd entered Achmed ass, hitting Achmeds prostate in the process with force. This caused instat orgasm in Achmed and in a loud roar he shot his cum in the sheets without him or Sjoerd ever touching his dick. Sjoerd was on edge of orgasm for quite some time already and lasted purely on willpower alone. But after a while Sjoerd reached the point of no return and moaning he filled Achmeds ass with his seed.
"Wow! That was awesome!" Achmed said. "I should have done this a long time ago". And with that they fell asleep, naked, on the cum soaked sheets.
The next morning Sjoerds stepfather knocked at the door.
"Boys, time to wake up. Sjoerd, you're mother isn't up yet but you'd better get the door unlocked before she does. Otherwise there will be hell to pay."
Sjoerd ignored the man his mother married. Sjoerd knew he shouldn't. The guy wasn't to blame for his poor choice in women. Still, he didn't feel like getting up just yet. He nestled in Achmeds arms a little more, feeling Achmeds dick pointing straight forward. Sjoerds played with Achmed cut dick for awhile when he was startled by a loud cry.
"Unlock the door this instant!" Sjoerds mother yelled. Even Sjoerd, champion in oversleeping, couldn't ignore this one. Hell, it was loud enough to wake the dead.
"We'll be down shortly, mother. And now leave us alone!" And, once more, Sjoerds mother gave in, causing Sjoerd to be even more anxious than the night before.
The morning was uneventful, probably because Sjoerds stepfather kept putting out the small fires. But shortly after lunch it became clear why Sjoerds mother hadn't fought any harder during the confrontations. It was about 2 pm when a friend of Sjoerds mother came to visit with her husband and daughter, This daughter, Sandra, was Sjoerds age and soon she made Sjoerd feel really uncomfortable because she kept staring at him.
It took less than 15 minutes for Sjoerds mother to include him in the conversation, something Sjoerd hated.
"Sjoerd, honey, why don't you go ahead and tell something about yourself and your studies?" his mother encouraged him. So Sjoerd told them he studied biomedical sciences, lived in Amsterdam and was dating Achmed.
"Eh, Margaret? I thought you said Sjoerd was still single?" the husband asked.
"He is" Sjoerds mother replied.
"And that makes Achmed his ....?" Sandra, the daughter asked.
"A mistake which will soon be forgotten when he's found a good woman. A woman like yourself, Sandra" Sjoerds mother answered.
Sjoerd exploded with anger.
"Mother, what is going on here? Are you trying to set me up with this girl?" Sjoerd asked. His mother didn't respond.
"When are you finally going to realize I'm with Achmed? I love Achmed!" Sjoerd shouted.
"Never! It's not the way things should be! You have to find a girl, get married and have children. That's the natural order of things!" Sjoerds mother screamed back at her son while getting up from her chair.
"Achmed, come on. We're leaving! I heard enough. As long as I'm not accepted for who I am and who I love I will set no foot in this house again!"
Sjoerd was beside himself with anger. Who did she think she was?! He was 21 years old and perfectly able to make his own decisions. Like she was such a saint! His father left because he caught her in bed with two other man and a woman. Sjoerd went to his old room and grabbed a couple of bags and boxes there to put in some stuff he wanted to take with him to Amsterdam. He would never return here as long as she lived as far as he was concerned.
"Sjoerd, get back down here and apologize or I swear I will cut you off, mister!" his mother shouted from the bottom of the stairs Sjoerd ignored her and kept packing old books, toys and photo's of him and his father. Photo's with his mother in it he left hanging or standing. He didn't even hear Achmed coming in and he jumped three storeys high when Achmed put his hand on his shoulder. Achmed turned his boyfriend around and saw tears in Sjoerds eyes.
"Why is she doing this, Achmed? Why is she trying to ruin my life?" Sjoerd asked. Achmed remained silent because he didn't have an answer. His parents, although deeply religious, didn't understand his sexual orientation either but at least they had accepted Achmed was different.
Downstairs the Christmas spirit was gone completely. Achme heard the friends of Sjoerds mother screaming she went too far this time and she didn't want anything to do with a stupid bigot. Only seconds later the front door closed with a bang.
"Achmed, could you get our stuff from the attic? I just want to get out of here" Sjoerd asked. "And is it ok if I store these boxes in your spare room? I just don't have enough space at the dorm".
"Sure, babe. For as long as you need" Achmed answered. He hugged Sjoerd when they heard someone coming up the stairs angrily.
"That's probably my mother" Sjoerd said. "You'd better go get our stuff. This isn't going to be pretty".
Half an hour later Sjoerd and Achmed were on their way back towards Amsterdam. Achmeds car was loaded with boxes and bags filled with Sjoerds belongings. Achmed glanced at his boyfriend every now and then. Sjoerds was all teared up, still absently rubbing the red spot over his cheek where his mother had hit him. She hadn't hold back and put all her anger in that blow. She did confirm something for Achmed, though. If Sjoerds stepfather hadn't intervened Achmed would have killed that woman. How did she dare hurting the man he loved?! Sjoerd had shoved her out of the room and continued packing. Not a word was spoken between mother and son after that.
Sjoerds mother started yelling to Achmed when she saw Sjoerd was ignoring her but Achmed had done the same. If Sjoerd could ignore her so could he. He kept walking past her, taking Sjoerds stuff to the car. Still, a man can only take so much and after being insulted for about 20 minutes he looked at her and the curse he threw at her in Moroccan was bad enough to make a sailor blush, assuming he would know what Achmed said.
As soon as the last box was in the car Sjoerd removed the key to his mothers home from his keychain and threw in into the hallway. Without saying anything to his mother and her husband he closed the door and got in the car. Achmed tried to tell him this might not be the right way to leave but Sjoerd had indicated he didn't want to talk about it. Achmed looked at the clock in his car and saw it was only 15h45, less than two hours since the guests had arrived. He was being torn between talking to Sjoerd and respecting his boyfriends wishes to let him be for now but it was hard. He didn't want Sjoerd to think he didn't care.
Halfway their two hours drive Sjoerd started talking again.
"Nice way to spend Christmas, right?" Sjoerd cried. "I doubt this one will go into the annals as best Christmas ever".
Achmed saw a parking area coming up. He took the exit, parked the car and switched of the engine. He took Sjoerd in his arms, hugging him.
"Sjoerd, this wasn't your fault. Your mother did this" Achmed said.
"Don't call her that!" Sjoerd cried. "That bitch doesn't deserve that title!" Sjoerd cried harder and harder.
"Shh, baby. It will be alright" Achmed tried to sooth him while stroking his short red hair. Achmed loved Sjoerds hair and kept Sjoerd from dyeing it in the past. This time he might not succeed in that. Sjoerd had his mother to thank for the colour of his hair. Achmed felt terrible seeing his boyfriend in so much pain.
"I'm ok, Achmed. Or at least I will be. Let's go to Amsterdam so we can forget about these two days as soon as possible" Sjoerd said. Achmed started the car again and the resumed their journey home.
When they reached Amsterdam a new question popped in Achmeds head. Did Sjoerd want to come with him to his place or did he want to be alone after all that happened?
"Achmed, is it ok if I come with you?" Sjoerd asked. "I could use a friendly face and some strong arms right about now". Ok, problem solved.
"Of course, babe. For as long as you want".
Several minutes later they arrived at Achmeds place. Achmed parked the car, killed the engine and looked at his boyfriend. Ever since they left the parking area Sjoerd had cried every now and than and now he looked at Achmed with red puffy eyes and tear streaks over his cheeks.
"Can't imagine this looks like anything you'd like to kiss" Sjoerd said with a small teary smile.
"And I can't imagine you not looking ready to be eaten, baby" Achmed responded. "Come on, let's get this stuff upstairs". Achmed didn't mention the lack of groceries in his apartment or something else he needed to discuss with Sjoerd.
After they moved all Sjoerds stuff upstairs Achmed grabbed a beer for Sjoerd and a coke for himself. Even thought he didn't consider himself a muslim a life without alcohol agreed with him.
"Sjoerd, tell me if I'm overstepping my bounds here but how are you going to deal with the loss of your allowance? You could barely manage as it was, even with the money you got from your .... from that woman" Achmed corrected himself when Sjoerds face told him he was on dangerous territory.
"Well, I guess I'll have to drop out of school" Sjoerd answered. "I can never afford tuition, rent, books en still have enough money to live on. My grant isn't that big". And with that Sjoerd started to tear up again. He hadn't realized all of this until Achmed mentioned it. And he loved his studies. All he ever wanted in life was to work in a laboratory, working on major break throughs. Ok, so they are rare but now he would definitely not have a chance anymore.
"To be honest, babe, I already thought that would be the case" Achmed said. "So why don't you move in with me? We can transform the spare bedroom in a study for you so you have a private and quiet place to study. That way you don't have to pay rent so you don't have to drop out of college."
"Achmed, are you sure that is what you want? I mean, that means I will be around all the time. Are you sure we're ready for that?" Sjoerd replied.
"Well, I'm not sure we'll never have a fight or anything but I do know I love you and I want you to be around me all the time. And I know I don't want to see you hurt. So this way we got all of that covered."
As a response Sjoerd hugged Achmed and kissed his neck while rubbing Achmeds chest. Achmed noticed he was getting hard again, just as Sjoerd knew this would always do the trick in getting Achmed horny. One other thing to get Achmed going was sucking his earlobe, which was exactly what Sjoerd was doing next. Achmed pulled Sjoerd from his ear and gave him a very passionate kiss. They kept kissing for a couple of minutes until Sjoerd had to come up for air. But he certainly was aroused and hard now and he decided he couldn't wait till Achmed had undressed himself. Despite Achmeds efforts last night to keep his shirt intact Sjoerd pulled it open, sending the buttons flying all over the apartment. He immediately started rubbing Achmeds nipples while rubbing Achmeds crotch with his face. In the mean time Achmed opened Sjoerds jeans so he had easy access to Sjoerds cock. He felt the precum oozing from Sjoerds cock. While Achmed was massaging Sjoerds dick Sjoerd undid Achmeds jeans and noticed Achmed had forgotten to put on his underwear this morning. He started sucking Achmeds dick an in a few tries had the entire monster in his mouth.
Achmed kicked off his shoes and removed his jeans so all he was wearing was his now buttonless shirt. He quickly removed Sjoerd sweater and shirt while Sjoerd himself removed his shoes, socks and jeans. Achmed ripped Sjoerds boxer to shreds and dove in for Sjoerds dick which he almost swallowed whole. Sjoerd enjoyed Achmed deepthroating him and felt it wouldn't be long until cumming. Apparently Achmed realized that too because he stoppen sucking Sjoerd. In stead he scooped Sjoerd up in his arms and took him to the bedroom. There he lied Sjoerd down on the bed and started eating out his ass. Sjoerd loved all the oral attention he was getting and relaxed more and more so Achmed could also enter his ass with his tongue. After some time, both men didn't know how much time, Achmed rested Sjoerds legs on his shoulders and positioned his dickhead against Sjoerds asshole. In one thrust he pushed his big hard dick in and if Sjoerd hadn't been accustomed to that Moroccan cut monster Achmed would have ripped him open. Now Sjoerd only felt a sting he associated with Achmed taking him and a lot of pleasure. He loved having Achmed big throbbing dick op his ass. If they were doing the things they did Sjoerd felt like everything was right in the world.
Achmed fucked him there was no tomorrow. Sjoerd felt Achmeds dick slide and out, rubbing against his bowel wall. Sjoerd loved it and felt his balls react as well, They were near their boiling point and ready to erupt. And than, without warning, they did. Sjoerd shot stream after stream of cum in his face, over his chest and his abdomen till some cum still oozed from his dickhead. Sjoerd was out for the count, completely drained and exhausted.
Achmed wasn't, though. He kept fucking Sjoerd while licking Sjoerds face clean of cum. Achmed loved cum, especially young cum and Sjoerds was his absolute favourite. It tasted a little salty where his own cum was always a little bitter to the taste, The taste of Sjoerds cum, together with all the emotions Achmed was feeling for him and the wonderful sensation of feeling his dickhead rubbing against Sjoerds bowel wall was too much for Achmed and he shot a huge load in Sjoerds ass.
Achmed was also out of it and collapsed on top of Sjoerd. He felt his dick pop out of Sjoerd. Sjoerd looked at Achmed with love in his eyes and Achmed knew he looked at Sjoerd the same way. They kissed and cuddled some more till Achmed turned to his side, pulling Sjoerd into him. And lying like that they fell asleep together, the first night they were living together.