Date: Sat, 05 Sep 1998 11:48:39 PDT From: Aihu Fist Subject: Pathan in Pakistan Pathan in Pakistan by Aihu Fist I sat there on a hillock overlooking the magnificent valley overgrown with strange yellow flowers irridiscent in the sunrays. I was tired of civilised life, of car exhausts and "hello, where are you from?" My escape from Quetta had proved to be a good choice. Ziarat- meaning also holy place- had adopted me a refugee- of-pollution with open arms. Sitting here in one of the last Juniper reserves I enjoyed every second I was breathing. My sneakers and shirt smelling with perspiration ended up in the grass. Now chest naked and bare legged with just my underwear I could lay back and dream of a horny Muslem prince or a Mujahedin warrior. Sitting here almost naked I must have been the sacrilege in person in what Ziarat actually meant: A Holy place. Fortunately I had found myself a spot without any onlookers and away from religious zeal and social pressure. Weary of traveling and the price one pays for it. Continuous denial of your own culture as locals want you to dress like they do. Nu nudity, not eventhinking of wearing a pair of shorts. Fifteen months of cultural alienation is not something easy at all. God! Last monday I was at Hanna lake in Quetta climbing one of the mountains surrounding the lake. Sunbasking on a Sunday in a tanga thinking that nobody would come near me. Surely,the daytrippers would not be around. But I was gravely mistaken. Opposite my little bench and picnic table I saw a Pakistani young man lurking from afar. Maybe he was just curious for that body lying on a a bench or plain simply wanting to be by himself as well. So I decided to get dressed again and climb a little higher. When I reached the the top of that mountain I undressed again. My yellow shorts and finally the little piece of cloth over my private parts vanished in my red little rucksak. I was now a streaker wasn't I? I couldn't I have cared less. There was not any soul in miles around. Well, down below there were still a few lake visitors. I figured not any of them would get it into their head to climb that high to stalk on me. All of a sudden I heard a deafening sound coming through the solid blue sky. Migs !! Then a police helicopter roaring over my head. How I wondered if they had seen this speck of male unashamed nudity. Were they really Pakistanis or were they Heaven sent to salute me, to honour my male divinity here in the Garden of Eden? Maybe they got a hard-on seeing this 'roumi' dashing over the grass like a pink bunny searching for a hole. I admit that for a minute I feared reprisals and that the heli might land and bust my arse. That's why I kept my straw hat in front of my lordship for a couple of minutes. About four migs- forgive me for my ignorance, they could have been F-14's as well. I found goat shit trails, so maybe I had to meet a herdsboy. How romantic... I moved on and came upon a sort of ruin or dismanteled kind of house made of heavy limestones.I walked around around the circular wall. The wind licked my body and bore its breath through the tiniest of pores. This was sheer exaltation. I faced the sun now, chin up inhaling the air deeply. I am a child of the Sun, I thought and I will worship you right now. Crouching on top of the delapidated wall I caressed myself and rubbed my scrotum and penis real well. My skin rippled allover. I felt childlike again. I reached for a pot of vaseline which only recently I had been keeping with me for out-of-the-blue-encounters with depraved youngsters. It wasn't the first nor the last time that they had tried to get me laid. I smeared a big clot up and down the shaft making it glisten and glow like a crystaline totem. My fingers aroused every slumbering fiber of supressed libido in me. I rose and called for Lord Shiva, Bacchus, Osiris and Eros. I was going to swing it off for Baal-Moloch and Ra, for Zeus and Ganeymede. For Allah and all his great prophets to see and hear what it means to have a love forsaken body full of lust and burning fire. I shot. And how I shot, almost ripping my flesh to pieces moaning and sighing , smiling in extasy at Deus Himself. My semen mixed with the lewd hot air and I felt proud. Allah too, was proud of me, I could feel it. Carpe Diem, I thought. Live the moment now. That only mattered. I slowly wandered off down the slopes with the sun gluiing on my back. The Golden Disc was about to set when at the foot of the mountain I came across a little raggedy boy herding his goats, throwing pebbles at them, and hissing the animals back on the track. A pitty we hadn't met on the mountains, we could have had a lot of fun up there. The more fluids for God the better, hey? A whiff of wind rustled me out of my reverie . I had a feeling I couldn't sit here that long in my briefs, besides it was getting a little chilly now. At this end as I was recalling my streaker's delight, a flock of sheep passed silently below my feet and I noticed another shepherd only twenty meters away from me. He spotted me too and waved at me beckoning me to come down and join him. But I felt fine here and nodded for him to come up and sit next to me. He hurried out of the valley and took place at my right side. The sheep continued their route. Apparently there was one more shepherd with him whom I hadn't noticed. What did he want from me? He wasn't speaking Urdu but a tribal language something what they call Pashto. He was a young Pathan. Maybe he was sixteen -- or even younger. A member of a nomadic tribe. He had short hair and clear green eyes. He noticed my Thai necklace of Shiva lingams around my neck and pointed at it. The middle lingam was white and the other ten I had on the string were mahogany brown. I had bought them in Chang Mai except for the white one which I was given by a Thai in Ban Bung in Chonburi province. He couldn't take his eyes off it. He was almost sure about what he saw, especially the white one slightly levitated like an erect penis. With a twist of his wrist so typical a gesture for these countries and index finger pointed at the necklace he asked me again what it was. I pointed at my crotch and he started laughing. His lips twitched in anticipation. Then he avidly grabbed it -- no, not mine. "A small one." He said. I pointed at his crotch and asked him if his was bigger. He blushed and showed the full length of his arm up to his elbow clenching his fist. "Like this!" he said. This boy was strong and healthy always roaming in the mountains with other shepherds. No girls for them to try out and knowing how difficult it is for Muslems to get hold of a one or anything else but their own meat I tried my luck. He was as desperate for a good fuck as I was, frustrated and horny. I can tell you. I have experienced the desires of Egyptians, Tunesians, Malaysians, Moroccans and he was going to be my first Pathan. "Can I see it?" I gestured towards his full pouch between his legs. He smiled again but his eyes displayed a very interested glance and something diabolic appeared in them. "First you." He touched my butt. I knew it!! Muslems all over the world always want to ride your crack and nothing else would satisfy their needs. The male position, the active one and I would have to fulfill the woman part in his bold imagination. "First you show me this." I insisted and now I touched his crotch. He froze for a sec. We sort of itched ourselves up in this Tarzan language. It was a nice tease game. But finally I yielded my bottom to him. We found a place under an old Juniper tree. Just one passerby, an old man, almost spoiled the tension or should I say even added more tension to our'jeux interdits'. I always felt like a lamb at the abbatoir when he pushed me down on my stomach. But I was sex-starved and I would have done everything to have him spend time with me. He had his jeans down and pulled out this huge, robust rod of his. I grabbed it instantly and started sucking it. Like a leech on his lips I wouldn't release this chunk of flesh. It was mine. He got impatient and nervous. Afraid to be caught in the act by one of his friends. He directed me down spat in my crack and went for it. I was afraid it would hurt. Unlike yesterday I had forgotten the lubricant. But It just turned out to be a painless reception. I moved with his body. He rode up and down gliding without friction and he lost all of his Muslem juice in my atheist temple. I grabbed his soft butt with my arms backwards and pushed him deeper.I didn't let him go that fast. This stud now lying over me, had his flat belly sticking to my lower back. He released me. Scrambling up, now that he'd had a good time and wanted to run off. I witheld him. Oh no, not that fast boy. I stuffed his giant flesh in my mouth while pampering my own. I came too. He smiled approvingly. Yes, indeed I made a true man in his eyes. He made a sign that he had to find his friend and we would meet tomorrow at four am. We hadn't used any condom and for the first time I didn't care. Where could this young ram have contracted aids? No women about and even if there were any he couldn't even afford one let alone a hooker. I am sure he has his favourite goat or did he have his regular go's with this shepherd mate he was now looking for?