Date: Fri, 5 Aug 2016 15:00:49 +0000 (UTC) From: simon peter Subject: The Prince and his Harem Part 1 Dear Reader This story, like many of my other stories, has elements that are based on real personal experiences. However, the names and places are all fictitious. If you feel like sending me a comment, negative or positive, please do so: simon23232@yahoo.com I would love to read your comments and suggestions. Also, very importantly, please donate to keep nifty going. Thanks. Simon The Prince and his Harem Part 1 By Simon Peter and Ben Thomas Note: Thanks to a dear friend, Ben, who gave me a variety of ideas inspired by his sick (erotic) mind... to start this series of stories. Simon The music ululated throughout the camel-hair tent, sending waves mixed with the hot desert breeze, scented by sticks of incense imported exclusively all the way from India. Prince Hamed bin Khamiss reclined on silky cushions at one end of the square tent, eye-lids half- closed, watching a belly dancer weave her almost naked waist to the music of the oud, played by one of the eunuchs serving Prince Hamed's family. The belly-dancer's ample breasts shook to the sound of the music, juggling inside her skimpy bra, decorated with shiny stones. Prince Hamed emitted a bored sigh deep in his throat as he waved away another of his family's houris, handing him grapes from a basket nearby. Hamed reflected on this scene, provided by his favorite uncle, Sheik Nahed, on this very special occasion: his fourteenth birthday. His tribe celebrated this event as a "coming of age" and as such, Hamed can now marry any of the little princesses from his tribe or as arranged by his uncle. But Hamed was not interested. He stood up, raised one edge of the tent, and stepped out onto the hot desert sand. He needed fresh air. He also needed to pee. He walked slowly to one of the nearby palm trees, hitched up his dishdash, lowered the half-pants under it, took out his dick, and let go a hot stream of yellow urine, hitting the sand around the base of the tree with a loud hiss. He looked down at his penis and smiled. Prince Hamed had a princely cock. Thanks be to God, Hamed was well endowed. Even in the middle of urinating, he felt his boy cock stiffen in his left hand (he was not allowed to use his right hand by tribal and religious edict-his right hand was to be used only for eating). As he walked back to the tent, his dick now semi-hard with the blood of youth, he reflected on all the houris that the male members of his family had supplied him with. There was the belly dancer, and the girl who was feeding him grapes, as well as three others who were waiting for his beck and call. However, Prince Hamed did not have the desire to "beck and call" any of them. His eyes were more focused on the eunuch playing the oud. The eunuch's name was Omar. He was tall and handsome. Except for the fact that he couldn't impregnate a woman, Omar was a hot specimen. He was 2m 10cm (6' 9") tall, weighing around 75kgs (165lb), head clean shaven with a golden earring in his right ear. He always wore an open vest without sleeves, showing his bare chest, hairless, but muscled, and his pectorals rippling with every move he made. Prince Hamed was fascinated by Omar the Eunuch and his physical build. He wondered whether Omar was hung. He would have loved to have him strip naked and show his whole body. As he walked back into the tent and reclined against the cushions, his cock was totally erect, all 20cm (8 inches) of young, cut meat. He didn't bother to hide the bulge under his white dishdash, and he noticed the two houris gaze at his crotch and smile luridly. The one who was feeding him grapes, Aisha, even slid her hand down the front of his chest meaning to reach down to his erection. Angrily, he waved her away, his own gaze fixed on the eunuch who was still playing the oud, his pecs swelling and flowing with the movement of his fingers. So what if I make this eunuch undress for me?, Prince Hamed thought as his cock throbbed inside his robes. After all, I am a prince and I am 14 years old already and my cock is always erecting at the slightest stimulus. At that very moment, Prince Hamed was roughly awakened from his lustful reveries as the front flaps of the tent opened and his uncle, Sheik Nahed, stormed in, a huge smile on his tanned, dark face. "Well, well," Sheik Nahed said happily as he strode the few steps on the Persian carpet toward his nephew. "My young Hamed is a man today." Prince Hamed smiled back at his uncle. He loved Uncle Nahed with a fierce passion that he couldn't disguise. But Nahed was gazing down at Hamed's crotch, looking at the bulge beneath the flowing white fabric. Hamed blushed and tried to cover his groin with his hand, pressing down on his erection, as he stood up to greet his uncle. "Hello, Uncle," Hamed said as Nahed reached him and took him in his arms in a strong and tight hug. Hamed's hardness pressed on his uncle's belly and his blush increased, especially since his uncle didn't move away, but rather reciprocated by pressing tighter on his young teenage nephew. Hamed felt some grinding, and another hardness pressing onto his lower body. He was already one head taller than his uncle, at 190cms. In a whisper, Sheik Nahed said into his nephew's ear: "Hamed, my boy, I can tell that you are a man (grind) and that you are ready for some action (grind and poke)." Prince Hamed felt as if he was going to nut right there, in a deep hug with his 30-year-old uncle, grinding and poking. He glanced around the tent and met the eyes of the hot eunuch, now standing, holding the oud with his right hand, the left hand resting on his hip, watching and smiling. Hamed winked at Omar. Omar winked back, and pursed his thick, sensuous lips slightly. Hamed's heart raced, and his hard dick pulsed against his uncle's crotch. The Sheik and his nephew broke the hug and settled down on either side of the cushions as Omar resumed his oud playing and the belly dancer her swaying and hip and breast jiggling. Aisha started serving the two men grapes. Hamed kept his gaze at Omar. Another houri entered with cardamom coffee. Sheik Nahed toasted his nephew, raising his cup of coffee in his right hand, of course. "This is to the new man in the family." In a much lower voice, he said leaning over toward the prince: "Thanks be to Allah for endowing you with a big rod between your thighs to please the womenfolk... and whoever you wish to please, my boy." The houris clapped and giggled and Hamed blushed as Omar again winked at him and pursed his lips. They certainly heard what his uncle had said, even in a whisper. The dancing houri licked her lower lip as she weaved her hips round and round. "I promised you a surprise for this birthday, my boy," Sheik Nahed continued. Prince Hamed turned toward his uncle, raising his eye-brows, with an expectant smile on his handsome dark-skinned young face. "What is the surprise, my uncle?" he asked. Sheik Nahed clapped his hands twice. Another eunuch entered with a tambourine, shaking it vigorously, the tiny bells filling the tent, almost drowning Omar's oud. Behind the eunuch entered a man. A young man. A fair-skinned young man. European. English? Must be English. Hamed glanced at his uncle with an inquisitive look on his face. Sheik Nahed stood up and pulled the seemingly-English young man to the middle of the tent. "This is Robert," Nahed said, his smile now very wide, his lips shining, his white teeth glittering. "Your surprise." Oh fuck! Hamed thought. Another tutor! And a damned foreigner also! But the man standing in front of him was quite attractive, Prince Hamed noticed. "My surprise?" the prince croaked, feeling stirrings returning to his groin. "Robert, here, is a specialist, Hamed," the uncle said, still holding onto the fair-haired European, one arm wrapped around the young man's waist. "But not like any of your tutors. He is assigned to train you in ways your other tutors have never prepared you for." Prince Hamed glanced nervously around the tent and then back at the young man in front of him. What fucking specialist way will this foreign man teach me? Hamed's curiosity grew stronger as he noticed the young man looking down at him and smiling widely. He liked that. The foreigner is looking hotter and hotter. His white teeth glittered. His blond hair shone. His skin looked smooth and silky- just like goat's milk. Hamed liked that very much. He is definitely starting to like his "surprise." "Specialist, Uncle?" Hamed asked. "Training me? In what, Uncle? To speak the foreign tongues?" Sheik Nahed laughed heartily at the innocence of his young nephew. It was true. Hamed was innocent. Out in the desert, you didn't learn too much about the ways of life. It was only when you became an adult, like Sheik Nahed, that you travelled the world and sampled its treasures. The money was no obstacle, of course. Petrodollars poured into their Princedom, the Jewel of the Gulf, like River Euphrates poured into the Gulf. Sheikh Naked leaned closer to the prince, gazing at the standing "surprise", whispering into the prince's ear. "This Robert, Hamed, is an escort." "An escort, Uncle?" Hamed asked. He had never heard of that kind of tutor before. "Yes, my boy," Nahed was smiling, still gazing at the beautiful young European standing in front of them. "An escort is a person who can teach you the ways of pleasure," he explained. Still the young Hamed did not comprehend. "Pleasure, Uncle?" "By the name of Allah," Nahed said, "you are so innocent, aren't you?" Prince Hamed shifted his gaze from the foreigner, holding it a second or two at Omar's handsome manly face, and then toward his uncle. His expression was totally quizzical. "Hamed," his uncle whispered. "This escort will tutor you on how to use that thing between your thighs to give you the utmost pleasure." "But... but... Uncle," the teenager stammered. "He is a man!" "That's the point, my boy," his uncle smiled, placing his hand on the boy's thigh, rubbing it up and down, feeling the hard teen muscles under his palm through the cotton fabric of his dishdash. "Only a man can teach another man how to use that rod between your thighs." Perhaps that was true. It was only two years ago, when Aisha and Jamila, the houri who served the cardamom coffee, were ordered not to administer to his bath. The last time they did so, his penis stood out of his body like a camel leg bone. He remembered Aisha touch him down there, her hand lightly around the long, thin shaft. He remembered the sensations he got when she started to move her hand up and down his penis. Jamila was massaging his back with scented soap. After a few minutes, the twelve-year-old prince jolted with unexplainable explosion as he watched white, creamy liquid gush out of the pee slit of his boy dick. He had thought he was peeing and he tried his best to stop the flow of the liquid, but it kept squirting up and out and onto Aisha's stroking hand. Prince Hamed reflected as his erection returned on how this foreigner was going to teach him. Was he going to stroke his penis, now a man-size cock, like Aisha had done? Yes, he would very much like that. He never wanted Aisha to do the same to him again. But he had fantasized about Omar. About maybe he could do that to Omar. But Omar was a eunuch servant. Did have a cock? Wouldn't they have cut it off for him? Or maybe they had just messed with his nuts? This foreigner definitely looked like he had one. There was a bulge at his khaki-covered crotch. "Thank you, Uncle. By the life of Allah, you are the best uncle ever," Hamed said, placing his own hand on his uncle's hand on his thigh and pressing it lovingly. Hamed loved his uncle, the beard, the moustache, the dark skin, the manliness, and something else he just could not explain. After his parents died three years ago, Hamed sort of fell under the wings of his uncle. Sheik Nahed had no children. He had personally seen to his wife's banishment from the Jewel of the Gulf after catching her sucking on his Pakistani driver's cock. The driver was now in prison. He should be grateful that Nahed had not cut off his dick and thrown it to the stray dogs which filled the streets of Boura, the capital city of the Jewel of the Gulf. Nahed himself had sucked the driver's cock a few times. He could understand his wife's enchantment with the Paki's equipment. But he could not pardon either of them. The only thing that kept him from ordering the beheading of the driver was the joy he had received as he blew him. The uncle was secretly gay. Secretly did not mean that he never had male sex in his villa on the outskirts of Boura. Actually, his all-male servants were also his sex toys. But the servants knew that if they ever breathed about Nahed's addiction to young cock, they would never live the day. Their head would be skewered on the pointed iron bars that topped the fence around the villa. With a heave and a sigh, Sheik Nahed picked himself up, collecting his robes in front of him to hide an erection of his own, and ruffled Hamed's curly black hair. He had realized that Hamed, like him, seemed to prefer the company of men over the houris that had been traditionally supplied to him. Hamed would always send fleeting glances to crotches of males nearby, especially when the eunuch Omar was around. This could be curiosity on the part of the young prince, but Nahed thought differently. "I'll let you be, for now," he said as he moved towards the standing escort. "Robert, you know what to do," he winked, smiled at Hamed and walked out. "May I, your highness?" Robert said as he approached the cushioned seating. "Oh, yes, of course," Hamed was flustered. Somehow the bearing of this foreigner was strong and masculine, much more so than his uncle and the eunuch. Robert reclined on the cushions, but he was already sweating, not used to the desert heat, with dark patches under his arms and around his crotch. "You seem to be uncomfortable, Mr. Escort," Hamed noted. Robert nodded and smiled. He wanted to laugh out loud, but he was afraid that the young prince would not appreciate that. "Why don't you call me Robert, your highness?" The prince nodded, liking this young man more and more. "Call me Hamed," he declared, foregoing the formality that he was used to. "Omar," Hamed addressed the eunuch. "Get Robert some comfortable clothes." "Yes, your highness. Right away, your highness," Omar bowed and left. "And you," Hamed waved at the three houris. "Leave," he ordered imperially. "So, Robert," the young prince said to the handsome foreigner now seated next to him. "You will teach me how to become a master escort?" Robert laughed. Sheik Nahed had told him that the boy was innocent. Omar re-entered the tent with a white, cotton robe, not embroidered like the prince's, and a pair of sandals. Hamed watched Omar hand the clothing to Robert. "Leave," Hamed ordered Omar. He was beginning to enjoy his princely powers over the servants. Robert stood up holding the dishdash, wondering where he could change into it. "You can wear it, Robert. You will look like a European-Arab." Hamed laughed at his joke. Slowly, Robert stripped. He had no problem with that. After all, he was an escort. He took off his shirt exposing a smooth, ribbed chest, the skin pale, the nipples pink. Holding the prince with his gaze, he stripped off his khakis. Hamed's eyes widened with every piece of clothing the foreigner shed. When Robert kicked off his jockey underwear, Hamed audibly inhaled, sucking hot air into his lungs. The foreigner's dick looked strange, like a snake with a hood. Of course, Hamed thought, the infidel was uncircumcised, just as he himself had been before the circumcision ceremony his father had held for him when the heathen skin was cut off, purifying his penis and making him a man. Robert slid the dishdash over his head. It fell around his lithe body, slightly covering his nakedness. Without the white pants that males in the princedom wore under their dishdashes, the white cotton fabric was a real see-through. Although usually cocky and would not take shit from anybody, Hamed felt both nervous and excited at the proximity of this very handsome young man lounging next to him. He could see the escort's dark patch of pubic hair under the cotton fabric. And the snake-like penis, hooded. He wanted to reach out and touch it. But he refrained. He didn't want this infidel foreigner to think of him as a girly-boy. He was a man now, more so than ever before, and his erection proved it. It tented his robes and he let it. He wanted to see how the foreigner would react to it. Robert smiled inwardly, sensing the young kid's lust. He was quite adept at that. He had experienced young guys, not sure of themselves but full of desire, eye him with yearning hunger. He was going to take his time with the boy. Drag this as long as he could. He was paid a lot of money to come to this fucking desert and the heat. He had never dreamt that he would be paid so much. "So now I look Arab?" Robert smiled at Hamed. "You will never look like an Arab, foreigner," Hamed hissed. How dare this infidel to presume that he looked like an Arab. Arabs were proud, not like foreigners. But still, this foreigner was very desirable. Robert was pissed. He needed to teach this arrogant fuck some lessons. But he had to be careful. He knew that if he made the boy angry, he would be in real trouble. "But do you like what I wear," Robert said, forcing a smile. "Or what's under what I wear?" "Take it off," ordered the cocky prince. "Huh?" "Take off the robe. I want to see you naked." Ah, so the boy was interested in men, just as Sheik Nahed had told him. Slowly, he slid the dishdash over his head and rested back on the cushions, naked. He looked delicious to Hamed's eyes, whose nuts quivered. "Why do you keep that unhealthy skin?" "My prince," Robert said, knowing that he needed to initiate something. "Men's penises are not valued by their looks, but what they can do to bring pleasure." "I see," said the young prince, interested. "If you so wish, Hamed," Robert made a point of using what the prince had allowed him to do, to address him by his first name, to put them on equal footing, "you can also take off your clothing." Hamed's eyes widened. "What? Sit naked with you? What if someone comes into the tent? Omar? Aisha? Jamila? My uncle?" The boy sounded just that: a boy. "Oh, you don't have to worry, Hamed. Your uncle ordered that no one is to walk into our sessions when I am tutoring you." "My uncle did that?" Hamid said, finding it hard to swallow, as if there was no spit inside his mouth. Robert nodded encouragingly. "A man should be proud of his body." "Allah gave us our bodies and I am proud of mine." Some of the cockiness returned. "As I said. Get naked. Be comfortable. This is your first lesson," Robert said. Not breaking eye contact with the escort, Hamed stripped. His naked body was that of a 14-year old, skinny, smooth. But his dick hung, semi-erect, a man tool. Robert was impressed. He knew that Arab men were hung. But this guy was a young teenager. Robert estimated at least 7 or 8 inches when Hamed got hard. Robert had experienced the uncle back in London when Nahed hired him. Nahed was more than hung. His cock was an impressive nine-incher, and thick as a beer can. Hamed stood naked, self-conscious, but not willing to show weakness or shyness. He thrust his hip forward in a challenging gesture, as if saying: See? Infidel? Look at my manhood and feast your eyes on my Arab cock. As an escort, Robert was used to taking control of his sexual desires to please his clients. But now, strangely, he began to erect. Perhaps it was the desert heat. Perhaps it was the exoticness of it all. The tent, the carpet, the sand. Perhaps it was the delicious, hung prince in front of him. He erected. His cock stood hard at 8 inches, the foreskin pulling back to expose a pink, ridged head. "To be comfortable, you need to accept your feelings, Hamed. What are you feeling now?" Robert watched with fascination as the young teen responded with an impressive erection of his own, pointing upward, glistening in the heat. In the corner of his eye, Robert saw an eye peering through a small slit in the corner of the tent. Nahed was watching. Robert knew that the Sheik could not possibly pass the opportunity of initiating his nephew. He decided that he should give the rich Sheik enough excitement in order to beef up the payments. Robert was an escort and his body, his cock, was his livelihood. "Feeling?" Hamed said, flustered, but fully erect. "Like I want to fuck." This was from a boy who had never fucked! He had heard stuff, especially for Omar the eunuch. He knew that he had to stick his dick into a woman: that was what fucking was, wasn't it? "Nice, Hamed. But I am not a houri. Still your cock erected when you saw me naked. Do you like me naked like this, Hamed?" "Yes," came out as a whisper as Hamed looked at the Persian carpet under his bare feet. He did like the foreigner's naked body and his boner. He loved it. His rock-hard cock was a testimony of that. "Touch me, Hamed." As if in slow motion, the prince kneeled next to Robert and placed one hand on the bare chest. Robert took Hamed's hand and ran it over his nipples, his chest, moving it down slowly to his belly, to his crotch. Hamed grabbed the hard cock and squeezed. "Nice," whispered Robert, glancing at the watching eye through the slit. Nahed must be stroking his horse dick by now. Robert guided Hamed to stroke him, using the foreskinm making sure to put himself in a visible position to the spying uncle. "Would you like me to do the same?" Robert said. Hamed nodded, stroking Robert's cock. As soon as Robert wrapped his hand around the boy's shaft, they both heard an intake of breath. Hamed pulled back immediately, letting go of Robert's dick, grabbing for his robes and covering himself. A few seconds later, Nahed and Omar walked into the tent. Stark naked. Completely erected. Grabbing his huge cock, must have been at least 9.5 or 10 inches of dark meat, Nahed said, approaching the young men on the cushions, "That was a very interesting first lesson, my boy. Robert is a good tutor, no?" Hamed was shaking all over. What was this? He had been able to process the naked young man next to him. But his uncle naked and with a monster boner? His eyes went to Omar. May Allah strike him dead as he gazed at Omar's totally smooth and muscled body and his erected eunuch cock. "Robert," the Sheik addressed the escort. "Time to demonstrate lesson number two to my horny nephew, don't you think?" Robert reacted by getting on his knees right in front of the Sheik and taking the hard, mushroomed cock head between his lips, tonguing around the head, then wrapping his lips and trying to swallow the thick shaft. Hamed reeled. He almost shot his load. The scene unraveling right in front of him blew his mind. His nuts churned as he watched his uncle's dick disappear between the two beautiful lips of the foreigner. He jumped when he felt Omar lean over him. He hadn't noticed the eunuch approach. Suddenly, warm, wet lips were pressing around his own young cock. He inhaled, willing himself not to pass out. Both Robert and Omar were slurping on cocks, sucking away. Hamed couldn't hold back. He exploded into Omar's mouth. Instead of moving away, the eunuch kept sucking and Hamed stayed erect. In a similar fashion, Nahed fed the escort his load. Hamed watched the creamy semen ooze from Robert's mouth as he swallowed. He reached out and ran his hand over Robert's exposed fuzzy butt and felt that he was going to shoot another load down the eunuch's stomach. And Hamed did just that. Squirt after squirt filled Omar's mouth. His uncle was watching him shoot his second load, which made him shoot more, covering Omar's face with his creamy boy juice. As Hamed settled back on the cushions, exhausted, but still horny, he watched his uncle getting serviced. Robert sucked on the cock, swallowing it to the base, while Omar alternated between the Sheik's balls and crack. Nahed pulled the two men by their hair and positioned them right under his cock. Gazing at Hamed, he gave his spit-covered cock a couple of strokes and started to shower the men's faces with his semen. Hamed was squeezing Robert's butt as Omar rubbed under his balls, making him shiver all over. Finally the three men and the boy dropped on the carpet, spent. Hamed was still horny. He couldn't believe that he was still hard. The young coming-of-age kid couldn't wait for lesson three to begin. To be continued.