This story contains scenes of consensual sex between teenage boys. If this offends you, or possession of which is illegal where you live, don't read on!
If you chose to do so, let me have your thoughts about the story. Contact me at john@jvenn.freeserve.co.uk
Cairo Holiday - Part 3
by
Alexander
I was laid in bed with my feet over Michael's shoulders as he was slowly and beautifully screwing me. I couldn't take my eyes off his lovely face as he worked himself in and out, pushing down inside me as far as he could and pulling back just far enough so I could feel the tip of his prick against my bumhole. This was the first time in all our encounters that we could actually take as much time as we wanted and not be in a rush to finish in case someone came home. So relaxed were we that I actually asked Michael to stop fucking me at one point as I wanted to prolong our fun for as long as possible. With more than a bit of regret, he pulled himself right out of me and lay by my side. Leaning over, I embraced him as hard as I could and kissed him on the lips. Finding his tongue searching for mine and exploring every square millimetre of my mouth was almost enough to make me come there and then without even touching my cock. At the same time we were caressing all over, simply unable to get enough of one another. Eventually Michael insisted that he finished the job he had started earlier, and turning me onto my side began to fuck me again, but this time giving me a hand job as well. It was rather pleasant to say the least!
It wasn't too long of course before the inevitable happened, and despite our best efforts to delay it as long as possible, we both came in great, almost painful spurts. Michael's load I took inside me, feeling every pulse of his cock as he did so, my come he carefully collected in his hand and then smeared all over my chest and stomach! Pretending anger I turned over to face him and pulled him tightly to me. Squirming around, I made sure that we shared equally the mess he had made over me, the gooey sticky spunk making a funny sucking noise each time we separated. Helpless with giggling we were in great danger of waking his parents up with the noise until Michael silence me with a soft and passionate kiss. Wrapping our arms around each other with our foreheads together we chatted for ages about what we could do during the next few days while Dad was away and I was living here. All the time we were talking our hands were wandering. I loved running my finger tips down his spine from his neck down to the top of his bum, feeling him tense up and thrust forwards as I reached the sensitive spot in the small of his back. Michael seemed to take immense pleasure in teasing the tip of his finger just inside my bum hole, wriggling about a bit and pulling it out.
It must have been well into the early hours of the morning when we eventually went to sleep. Not by choice I might add, but simply because we were so knackered. Apart from the fact that we had had a particularly hard day physically what with the horse riding and the adventure in the sauna at the Hilton, our sex romp earlier that night had finally ensured that we were both physically and mentally exhausted.
It took me quite a few seconds to realise where I was when I woke up. Michael had curled himself up under the bedclothes and was licking my early morning erection from base to tip, playing his tongue around just inside my foreskin each time he reached the end. I was also aware of his erection pressing firmly into my side.
"Fuck you!" I said as loud as I dare, and throwing the covers over my head joined him in the steamy heat under the thin bed cover. Trying to reach under his arms to tickle him, there then ensued a rough and tumble fight that made a lot more noise than was sensible, considering where we were and what we were doing. Feeling the heat, humidity and lack of oxygen get to us, we soon threw the covers back and collapsed about a foot apart, not touching each other.
"What shall we do today," Michael asked, turning on to his side, resting his head on his crooked arm and looking at me.
"Dunno really. Got any ideas?"
"We could go to the club and have a swim or a game of tennis if you wanted."
I couldn't really give a damn where we went or what we did, just so long as we were together, and preferably alone for at least some of the time. I was certain that I wouldn't be able to go for a whole day without being able to hold him to me and show him how much I cared.
Agreeing that we would start off at the club, Michael got out of bed and prepared to have a shower. Walking around the room naked, I was watching him collect his clean clothes, eyeing him keenly, taking in all the beautiful lines and curves of his perfect body, all of which I had explored. There wasn't a single square inch of him which wasn't faultless, from the top of his dark curly hair right down to the tips of his toes. Michael, for his part was totally unconcerned, moving from drawers to cupboard to dressing table with all the grace of a panther.
Folding his arms across his chest, with his clothes held against him, he was on the way to the door when he stopped and turned to face me, legs slightly apart.
The sight, fast becoming used to it as I was, gave me an instant hard-on and I took a comforting hold of it under the bedclothes. How he managed to stand there, completely at ease, bollock naked and without an erection I will never understand.
"Fuck you!" he grinned, looking at my hand doing it's work, "Can't you ever think of anything else?"
"Not with you around like that I can't. It's you're bloody fault!"
"Bollocks!," he countered, his prick beginning to show signs of life, "Anyway we'd better get a move on, they'll be expecting us downstairs soon."
Making a move to get out of bed, two thoughts suddenly struck me.
"I think you'd better put a towel round you before you have a shower," nodding in the direction of his prick, "And I forgot to get my fucking case from the hotel last night, I've fuck-all to wear!"
"That's no problem. Have a look through mine things and take what you want," he said putting his own clothes on the bed and picking up a dressing gown.
Whilst he was showering I explored his wardrobe. Finding a pair of baggy white shorts and an Egyptair T-shirt I threw them on the chair and looked for a pair of underpants. It felt strangely erotic searching through the draw with all his boxers and Y-fronts in it, knowing that each and every item of clothing in it had at some time or other lovingly cradled the bits of him that I admired the most. Finding a pair of brown and white Y-fronts, I chose those because they were well worn and I thought he would look good in them. Putting them on was even more thrilling than handling his underwear. What with the feel of the smooth cotton against my balls and prick and being vividly aware that the last time they were worn they were containing him, I gained another instant boner!
Whilst waiting for Michael to finish his shower I wandered over to the open window and putting my elbows on the cill, rested my chin in my cupped hands and looked around.
Glancing down at the entrance to the garage, I was mildly surprised to see Anwar with his galabeya around his waist having a piss against the wall. He must have sensed that someone was watching him as he lifted his head slightly and turned towards me. Grinning broadly, he started to make wanking movements with his hand on his cock. Returning the grin, I copied his wanking motion in the air, gave him a 'thumbs up' sign and continued watching him. Obviously enjoying the little game, Anwar took a pace or two sideways so that he couldn't be seen from the road and leaning back slightly aimed his now semi-erect prick in my direction. Pointing first at his cock, then to himself and then to me his meaning was crystal clear. Thinking for a split second and reluctantly knowing that it would be impossible for us to have 'zubra' (at least not just yet), I shook my head and turned away just as Michael came in.
"All yours," he said, his voice muffled by the towel he was drying his hair with. And leaving Anwar to his own devices, I turned and went for my shower.
Michael's parents both left before we had finished breakfast, and we were sat over the table chattering when I told him about Anwar having a piss against the wall, and what he had suggested.
"Do you want him then?" asked Michael with a peculiar edge to his voice.
Realising to my astonishment that Michael was jealous of Anwar, I instantly regretted having told him and tried desperately to think of a way out of my predicament. Of course there was no contest between Anwar and Michael, and never would be, but now I had the problem of convincing Michael of that.
"No, not really. Unless you do?" I replied jokingly, thinking that if I gave him the option he would feel better.
"No. Not just now." was all he could manage to say.
Following him up to the bedroom to get washed before going out, I waited until he was washing his face before I quietly crept up behind him and grabbing him round the waist kissed him on his soapy cheek.
"Not jealous are we?" I whispered in his ear.
The effect was instantaneous. Spinning round to look directly me, I saw a flash of real anger pass across his face and I thought he was going to hit me before he visibly relaxed and kissed me viciously on the lips.
"Don't ever wind me up like that again!" he said, his voice trembling with emotion.
"Come on!," I replied, still shocked at his reaction, "I was only joking. You know that I would never mess about with Anwar." "Not without you anyway," I added trying to laugh it off.
Looking straight at him, I thought I could see tears welling up, but dismissed the idea, putting them down to his being still wet from washing.
"I don't think I could cope if you found anyone else." Michael said, sounding as serious as I have ever heard him.
The revelation that Michael thought enough about me to show this amount of emotion both frightened and excited me. No one, not even my father, had ever spoken to me quite like this and with such patent honesty.
More than a little disconcerted at this I hastily said, "All right. All right. There's no problem," ruffling his hair at the same time.
I could feel the tenseness in his body melt away as I held him to me.
"Fuck you!", I shouted at him, playfully pushing him away, "What the hell are we? Men or bloody kids?" Making a pretend grab for his balls, he skilfully avoided me and took a flying leap to land full length on the bed. Sitting on the edge of it, I put my hand on his waist and kissed him on the lips as softly as I could.
"Better now?"
"Yeah. Come on, let's make tracks," he said pushing me off him, all trace of emotion now gone.
The incident, although over in a very few seconds, played on my mind for quite some time until I deliberately stopped thinking about it.. Any lingering doubts about Michael's feelings towards me had now gone, to be replaced not only with a certainty that in the very short time we had known each other we had started to care very much for each other and that it was also very scary.
Walking along the wide boulevard towards the Heliopolis Club, we stopped off at the Palmyra bar and sat on the pavement edge with our 7-Ups disinterestedly watching the world go by.
"Tell you what," Michael said, " Have you been to the Mena House?"
Replying that I hadn't, and in any case didn't even know what it was.
Michael told me that it was a big hotel just under the pyramids on the Alexandria Road. It use to be an Indian rajah's palace years ago apparently he explained, but now it's a hotel and it's absolutely terrific. Once your inside it's just like walking around a real palace.
"OK then, we'll go if you like, but first can we go for a swim? I'm sweating like a pig." (Unfortunate choice of phrase I remember thinking considering that we are in a Muslim country!)
The walk from the Palmyra to the club was all of two minutes, and a couple of minutes after that we were changed and heading for the pool. Enviously I watched as Michael took a racing dive into the water and swam towards the far end. Standing on the edge of the pool, I dived in and hit the water flat as usual. I was so used to my god-awful diving that I didn't even react to the pain as I hit the water and swam towards Michael, almost catching him up at the end of the pool. Sitting on the edge, Michael looked at the redness all down my stomach and laughed.
"Come on," he said, "I'll teach you how to dive properly."
Choosing a fairly quiet bit of the pool, he told me to stand on the edge with my toes just hanging over the water.
"Now, put your hands by your side and stand straight up."
Doing as I was instructed, I felt his flat hand in-between my shoulder blades.
"Christ!" I thought, "Even this is going to give me a hard-on if I'm not careful!"
"OK, then," Michael continued," Put your arms straight up, covering your ears and lean forwards slightly bending your knees. When you feel yourself over-balancing, push off with your legs as hard as you can."
Despite two or three attempts I simply couldn't manage to do it.
"Wait. I know," Michael said, exasperated with me, "Get ready."
Once again doing as I was instructed, Michael put one hand in the middle of my back again and the other on my stomach.
"Right. Go!" he shouted. At the same time he pushed me from the back, and slid his other hand down my stomach and gave my balls a quick squeeze! My natural reaction to this was of course to jump, and in so doing kicked my legs back and made the best dive ever. At the cost however of a rapidly hardening cock, fortunately hidden under the water.
Coughing and spluttering I bounced to the surface and stared at Michael, folded up with laughter on the poolside.
Scrambling out of the water I stood next to him, "Bastard!" I grinned.
"Worked though, didn't it?" he giggled. "Wanna try it again?"
We repeated the practices three or four times before my erection became too big to hide and we started to mess around in the water. Due to our exuberance noise, it wasn't long before we were thrown out for being too boisterous. We were getting tired anyway, and somewhat thankfully I suppose, left to get changed.
Once in the changing cubicle I worked my wet trunks to the floor and stepped out of them. My boner, which still hadn't really gone down sprang to life once more and pointed straight up at Michael.
"Come on. It's your fault it's there. Do something about it." I begged ," Pleeeeeeeeeease!" I whined.
"OK, If I must, I must," Michael replied, feigning boredom.
Kneeling down he took me in his mouth and started to suck, working his tongue in and around my foreskin just as he knew I liked. Arching my back and grabbing two handfuls of his hair, I closed my eyes and moaned with uncontrolled pleasure.
"Cominnnnnnnng!" I managed to gasp just before ejaculating my sweet boy-come down his throat. Michael, having managed to swallow most of what I had just given him, continued to suck until I felt as if all my insides had been pulled out through my prick. Reluctantly I removed my now flaccid cock from him and sat back on the bench to recover.
Looking at his still very rigid tool, I asked him if he wanted to fuck me.
"Not here," he whispered, "Too dangerous, someone might come in. Tell you what though. Stand up."
Standing toe to toe in front of him, Michael pushed his tool down slightly and forced it between my legs.
"Now, grip it as hard has you can," I was instructed.
To my surprise I could get quite a firm grip and could feel almost the full length of it between my legs.
Putting his arms round my waist, he began to move backwards and forwards very slowly. As far as I was concerned the feeling was unexpectedly sensuous. My hitherto limp cock regained it's former glory and impressed itself between our stomachs, adding to out joint delights. Michael must also have been loving the sensation just as much as me as he was groaning quietly with intense pleasure.
Moving his arms up my back, he somehow managed to get his hands on my shoulders from behind, and using his elbows and arms pulled me harshly towards him as he shot his load, at the same time leaning forward and putting his lips against mine, kissed passionately.
"Jesus, that was good!" he whispered," Bloody hell!"
Sitting down on the bench again, Michael sat on my knees and rested his head on my shoulder, one arm round my neck.
"Tony,.........," Michael began to say but stopped suddenly as if he had changed his mind.
"What?" I said
"Tony, I ...... oh, never mind. Tell you later." he finished lamely, and as if to make up for it, smothered my face in little kisses. "Come on we'd better get a move on if we're going to the Mena House." And so saying we rapidly dried ourselves, got dressed and hit the street.
Deciding that we would take one of the cheap black and white taxis rather than use the Metro which would take ages, we stood on the pavement outside the Club gate and before long an old battered Peugeot stopped for us.
"El fundu Mena House, min faddlach," Michael asked in his best Arabic after we had climbed in the tiny back seat.
"Aiywa, effendi," replied the driver as he let in the clutch and with a lurch took off.
Although the traffic was its usual busy, chaotic self, the driver weaved in and out of it like a man possessed. Fortunately the smallness of the car and the confined space meant that we weren't thrown about too much, provided that we hung on to the grab handles.
"What were you going to say back at the club?" I asked Michael, as much for something to talk about as anything else.
Michael turned and looked out of the window, silent for a moment or two.
"Well," he said uncertainly, "When we were having fun back there and I sat on your knees, I suddenly felt very strange. A sort of tingle went through me and I had never felt so, ... so, well, sort of comfortable with anybody in my life as I was with you then."
Struggling to find the right words, he went on to say that he liked me, liked me a lot more than he could explain. To my surprise, and for the first time in our relationship, he seemed too embarrassed to continue the conversation.
"It's all right you know. I think I know how you feel. I'm the same about you. It's a strange feeling isn't it?" I said, leaning in the corner of the car and looking at him.
"Yeah," he replied distantly, his mind elsewhere.
"Tony," he said carefully after some thought, "You're going back to England in a few weeks. What the hell am I going to do then?"
This thought hadn't struck me before. I knew of course that I was going back home eventually, but it was so far in the distance that I hadn't considered the implications. I was supremely happy at present and I guess that I had buried the fact that sooner or later we would be separated at the very back of my mind.
Any words I could find would have been useless I decided, and instead put a hand on the inside of his thigh, giving him a gentle squeeze. Michael put his hand on top of mine and held it painfully tight. Leaning forward he put his forehead on the window and stared at the passing road.
Leaning forwards to look at him, I saw tears slowly sliding down his cheeks. This time there was no mistake - I couldn't put it down to water or anything else.
"Hey!" I said, drawing the vowel out, "Come on, dickhead! We've got ages yet and I'm sure you'll get pissed off with me before much longer."
Leaning back on the seat and looking straight in front he tried to pull himself together. Taking a deep breath and sighing it out, he relaxed his grip on my hand, content with letting it just rest there.
We spent the rest of the journey in silence and didn't speak again until the taxi pulled in through the hotel gates and curved round to the enormous porch of the entrance.
Michael was right. The building was brilliant. On the roof were dozens of little onion-shaped domes, with four much bigger ones at the corners. The whole orange-red brick front of the building was smothered in intricate carvings of lions, tigers, elephants and a myriad other things. It didn't look anything like a hotel at all.
Climbing up the half dozen steps we entered the lobby. It was there that you could imagine that it was once a palace. There was embossed brass, fine marble and tall plants everywhere. The staff wore maroon and gold uniforms and seemed to set the place off perfectly.
"Come on, through here," Michael said, striding along a wide, richly carpeted corridor.
The restaurant/cafeteria was enormous, so big that trees were growing in it and birds flitted around high up in the roof. Looking around I spotted a little square table right in the far corner, away from most of the other people sat eating.
"Come on, over there," I said, leading the way towards it.
Skimming through the menu, I eventually chose to have a large cup of coffee and some of my favourite ginger ice-cream. Michael went for a hamburger and coke.
Settling ourselves comfortably, we pulled our chairs closer together and sat looking round the room. Scattered around was about a dozen boys whose job it was to deliver the orders and clear away the used crockery just as soon as it was finished with. One of the other, somewhat older men came across to our table and took the order.
Bearing in mind the incident with Anwar that morning, I studiously tried to avoid looking for too long at the boys, much as I wanted to. Their uniforms matched their complexions and features perfectly. Each and every boy I glanced at was better than the last, and I was conscious of my prick getting harder just by looking at them.
"Which one do you fancy?" Michael whispered in my ear.
Looking at him, to make sure that I hadn't mis-heard him, I asked him to repeat what he'd said.
"Which one?" he said again.
"Dunno," I replied carefully, "I haven't really looked." "Liar!" he grinned, putting his hand on my boner, "You've given yourself away."
Acutely embarrassed, I could feel myself blush violently.
"S'all right, I don't mind you just looking! I like the one over there, don't you?", he continued, nodding in the direction of a young lad standing near the door.
"Yeah. But the one across the room from us is better." I said, feeling a bit more relaxed now.
"Not bad, I suppose."
Michael carefully moved his chair just a bit closer towards me and put one leg each side of the table leg, pressing his knee against mine. Moving his arm off the table, he surreptitiously slid his hand down the inside of my shorts and I almost hit the roof as he grasped my balls.
"Pack it up!" I whispered urgently, "Someone will see us!"
"Yes, all right Tony." he said much louder than he needed to, ensuring that several people sat nearby could hear him, "I agree," but made no effort to move his hand.
"Oh well," I thought, "What the hell!" and entering into the fun of things held my drink in one hand and with the other slid down the zip on his shorts. Working my hand inside and through the flap of his boxers I pulled his prick through so that it stood up proudly in front of me. Sliding down in his seat, he pulled the edge of the table cloth over it so that it couldn't be seen if anyone chanced to pass by.
"Bastard! You're wearing Y-fronts" he mouthed at me. "Get your prick out for me will you?"
Putting my drink down, I found the tag of my zip and was looking around to make sure that no one was watching before I undid it when I noticed that the boy across the room was watching us, smiling. I froze, not knowing what to do next. Nudging Michael I glanced at the boy and nodded at him. Summing up the situation at once, Michael simply shrugged his shoulders, took my hand and slid my zip down for me.
"Go on, do it!" he whispered.
The waiter took two or three steps sideways so that he could get a better view.
With great difficulty and not without some pain, I eventually managed to get my cock out through the flap of the Y-fronts.
The waiter grinned broadly at us.
To avoid any further embarrassment I copied Michael and moved the table cloth so it hid my erection. Grasping each others tools under the table gave me a tremendous thrill of excitement and danger and made my already engorged tool get even bigger.
Michael, damn him, was slowly and deliberately now wanking me off and I was helpless to do anything about it!
Spotting the same boy who had been watching us collect the tray with our order on it, I quickly let go of Michael and took his hand off my cock. The waiter held the tray in one hand and slowly put our food and drink on the table, not giving either of us a look. Watching him spread or order in front of us, I saw him quite deliberately pick up a spoon and drop it on the floor. Bending down to pick it up he took the opportunity to put his head right under the table and take a good hard look at our erections before standing up again! Wordlessly he put the tray down on the table and walked across to the serving hatch and collected a pile of paper napkins. Returning , he made a great show of dividing the pile in two halves, placing one in front of each of us, and bowed, grinning. Taking up his tray he then walked back to his assigned spot against the far wall and stood looking at us smiling slightly.
The two or three seconds that the waiter had been under the table had been enough to make my prick loose its hardness, but once he had gone I found the incident more than a little erotic and it showed in the usual way!
"What do you think?" Michael asked.
"What do you mean?" I queried.
"Do you think he will?"
Not exactly sure of what he meant, but certain of the general direction he was thinking in, I said that I didn't know.
"Oh well, it was a nice thought," he said taking hold of my prick once more.
We finished our snack quite some time later, having some difficulty in balancing the time between eating, drinking and playing with each other under the table. We had almost forgotten about the waiter, just giving him the occasional glance as we ate.
"Christ!, I've got to fucking come soon or I'll burst," I told Michael.
"Me too, but not here," he agreed.
"Come on, let's find somewhere," I said, fastening my zip.
Putting the money for the meal on the table, we stood up and made for the exit. Passing the grinning waiter, Michael almost gave me a heart attack when he stopped in front of him and gave a little bow. Returning the bow, the waiter smiled widely and winked at us.
"Down here, I think," said Michael, "The Night Club's down here and there are some toilets next to it. They should be quiet now."
Pushing our way through a black and gold decorated door we found ourselves in a vast, marble floored room.
"Perfect!" he sighed, pushing me into the nearest toilet.
With a sudden move, Michael grabbed me around the waist and kissed me. Returning the kiss, I tried at the same time to unbutton the tops of my (or his?) shorts and run the zip down.
"No. Wait. Let me do it," he commanded.
Michael was as hot as I had ever known him to be - I didn't know at the time what had made him like this, and I didn't even give it a moments thought, I was turned on by his obvious randiness and soon became as horny as he.
Sliding his hands under my T-shirt he began to fondle and stroke me all over my back and chest, which he knew I loved. I closed my eyes and could feel him kiss me on the neck, sucking at the same to give me a 'love bite'.
"How the hell can I explain this?" I remember thinking, not caring whether I could or not at the time.
Continuing to kiss me all over my face, he firstly took off my T-shirt and then moved his hands to my shorts, undid the top button and slid down the zip. The excitement I felt as he undressed me was absolutely incredible! I already had a boner on, but as he beautifully lowered my shorts and pants down to me ankles, I am sure I got even harder. His face was just in front of my cock and before he stood fully upright he gave it an immensely sensual licking all over, including my balls and groin. Moaning with delight, I took hold of his head and lifted him up so I could kiss him. Whilst doing so, I pushed my hands inside the waistband of his trousers and eased them off his waist and forced them to his knees. Having done this, I unfastened the buttons of his shirt and took it off him. Hugging our now naked bodies together I was deliciously aware that our joint boners were laying side-by-side against our stomachs, the sensation of which made me even more ecstatic.
"Can I fuck you?" I whispered. Michael I know liked fucking me, but I don't think he was quite so keen on being screwed himself. He never objected of course as he would do almost anything sexually for me but he would only do it if he was particularly randy.
"Oh, yes. Yes Please Go for it!"
Turning him round and bending him over, I pressed the tip of my re-hot prick against his hole. Gripping him firmly round the hips I increased the pressure slowly. Michael, obviously anxious to take it reached round and eased his cheeks apart. Suddenly and almost without any effort on my part, he relaxed and I slipped in. His ring was so tight that I could feel almost every vein on my cock, and Michael I am sure could sense every last millimetre of it.
I started to fuck him very slowly and gently. Michael helped by pushing himself backwards and forwards in time with me.
"Beautiful! Beautiful!" I could just hear him say, "For Christ's sake don't stop!"
Once again doing as I was told, I kept going - not that I wanted to stop anyway. Taking as long as I possibly could trying making the pleasure last as long possible, I varied my speed, stopping all together when I felt myself building up to coming - which was no easy feat I can tell you! Eventually I couldn't hold back any longer and I began to thrust hard and deep into him.
As I came Michael let out a loud "Oh Shiiiiiit!" and pushed back against me so hard that I could feel my balls against the top of his thighs.
Shooting my love juice into him, I held it there until I felt it soften and sorrowfully pulled it out. Michael, standing up now turned and sucked the remaining spunk out of me.
Putting my arms round his neck and resting my head on his shoulder, I told him that I was fucked, in more ways than one!
"OK then, rest here for a bit." he replied, sitting down on the toilet.
Looking at his huge erection, I laughingly said that if he thought I was going to sit anywhere near that, he had another think coming!
"What's the matter, frightened?" he retorted and pulled me down onto him. I could feel his prick between my arse cheeks and wriggle about until it rested comfortably in the crack.
"Stand up a bit," I heard him say. Guessing what he was going to do, I leaned over and braced myself with my hands on my knees.
"Now, sit down again gently."
Doing so I tried to slide down the shaft of his cock. It took two or three attempts, but we got there eventually and I sat down on his erection. Michael of course couldn't fuck me properly, but I found that if I put my hands on the toilet seat I could work myself up and down enough to make it a very nice feeling indeed! Not only that, but I discovered that if I squeezed my arse cheeks together at the right time, it made things infinitely better!
"Go! GO!" Michael said, and I did.
It wasn't long before he came, and I think I even managed to drain him completely by massaging his cock with my bum! In any case, we were both completely worn out by now and sat warmly comfortable just holding and caressing each other for ages. Michael not even bothering to remove his temporarily flaccid cock from its temporary home.
Michael was softly licking around my nipples as I sat on his knees when he stopped, and without looking up at me said, "Tony, You all right?"
"Yeah. Perfect, I sighed, "You?"
"Yeah. Listen."
By the tone of his voice I could tell that he was about to say something important and stopped playing with his hair.
"What?" I enquired.
"You know this morning when I got pissed off with you. Well, I didn't know at the time why I did, but I think I've worked it out now."
Sensing that I shouldn't say anything just yet, I sat and waited.
"I was jealous of you. It might sound stupid, but I was. And I can't help it. Even when we were talking about the waiter boys in the restaurant, I was envious. I tried to play along with you for a bit, but it didn't work; all it did was to make me feel left out for some reason."
"You know I like you, don't you?"
"Yes," I replied quietly.
"Well," he continued, still not looking at me," I like you a lot. More than a lot in fact."
I think we both knew what word he was avoiding, and I must admit that I was afraid that he would say it. I don't think I could have coped with it.
Not at all sure that I knew what I was going to say before I started, I bent down and spoke into his ear.
"I feel the same way about you. I like talking to you, and being with you, and doing things with you......."
I still didn't know what to say next, but carried on anyway, " It's not just that we have good times together, but I just enjoy being around you. The only thing is," I said carefully,"......Is that it frightens me a bit. I've never felt this way before about anyone and I am scared that we will fall out and not be friends."
Michael said nothing, but I could sense that he was thinking.
"Tony," he said, standing up and looking at me for the first time, "You know we must keep this secret don't you?"
"Yes. Of course," I agreed, "No one must ever find out. Ever."
Suddenly brightening up and changing the subject Michael said that we ought to go for a horse ride as we were here, and the embarrassing subject was closed - at least for the time being I thought.
I relaxed, glad that things were now in the open and we both knew exactly where we stood.
"Good idea, let's go," I said, picking up my clothes and getting dressed.
As we left the hotel, the waiter boy who had shown us where to go was standing at the entrance. Michael, who by now was back to his usual exuberant self walked across to him and bowing slightly to him, shook his hand, "Shukran!" he said, thanking him in his own language.
"Ma'alish! (Never mind!)" he replied, grinning, "Enta henna bokra?"
"Aiwa, Insha'allah!" Michael responded as we jogged off towards the stables.
"How about it then?" Michael said.
"How about what?"
"Sorry, I forgot you don't speak Arabic that well yet. The boy asked if we were coming here tomorrow and I said that we would. Is that OK?"
"Yeah. Good idea. I like coming here!", making the double entendre as obvious as possible.