Date: Thu, 11 Aug 2016 14:07:41 +0000 (UTC) From: simon peter Subject: The Prince and his Harem Part 6 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 6 By Simon Peter Sheikh Nahed regarded his teenage nephew as he reclined on the cushions in his nephew's tent. He had brought four of his boy harem to entertain them. Hamed had just returned from his surprise trip to England. The boy had followed the English escort all the way to London. The sheikh had noticed his nephew's attachment to the Englishman and had sent the escort back to his country. Now, it seemed that something strange had happened to his teenage nephew. The prince seemed lethargic in some way. The scene playing on the carpets in the middle of the tent, right there in front of their eyes, was by all counts extremely erotic. The naked boys were kissing and sucking and fucking with all the energy that only young boys have. The sheikh could barely control his erection and his lust to jump on top of those sexy boys and ravish each and every one of them. Oh, they looked so delicious, enough to eat raw. But Hamed, just lay there, barely opening his eyes, without even the hint of a tenting bulge inside his white robe. What the devil was wrong with the boy? The sheikh was concerned. He had taken over the raising of Hamed right after Hamed's parents died in an unfortunate car accident a few years before. When his nephew reached his fourteenth birthday, the sheikh had brought in the English escort to tutor the boy-now-turned-man in the arts of pleasured sex. The boy seemed to fall into gay sex with gusto. What happened now? Why was the young prince so uninterested anymore? With a sigh, barely glancing at the fucking boys, Hamed rose and walked out of the tent. Omar the eunuch, who had served Hamed since he was a baby, was also concerned. Omar had also accompanied the young prince to London. "What's wrong with the boy?" Nahed asked Omar, as the latter bowed towards the reclining sheikh. "It's very strange, Highness," the eunuch whispered. "There was nothing wrong him until he realized that he couldn't stay in London with the infidel escort. Since we got back, he's been like this." "Hmmm," the sheikh scratched his beard. "I wonder. Go see what he is doing." "Yes, Highness." As Omar left the tent looking for the young prince, Sheikh Nahed dismissed the boys. He had lost his lustful appetite for now. Thoughts of his teenage nephew controlled his mind. What the fuck was wrong with the boy? The sheikh had provided everything under the sun, trying his best to fill the place of the lost parents. Was Hamed missing his parents? For a fourteen-year-old, healthy boy watching a hot sex scene live in front of him and not getting excited was very, very strange. It was unheard of. Sheikh Nahed tried to figure out the various possibilities. The boy didn't seem to have anything physically or medically wrong with him. What could it be, then? But wait a minute, Nahed reflected. Could it be possible that Hamed was not really gay? Did not really like sex with men? Was not aroused by the very sexy boy-harem that the sheikh had collected? That could be a possibility. Maybe the boy preferred women? But before today, Hamed seemed to be all into men and boys. There were orgies where he was the center of all the action. Besides, his attachment to Robert, the English escort was definitely sexual. Was it possible that the boy had been pretending all this time? Just to please his uncle? And not showing that he had gotten tired of and bored with boys? Or maybe disgusted? Most straight men found sex with other men disgusting and unnatural. Was this the problem? The sheikh was at a loss. Omar walked back into the tent. "Your Highness, the young prince has told me that he wishes to be alone. He wants to spend the night in the oasis, by himself. I have arranged for a tent and bedding and food and drink to be set up there." "Do you think it is wise to leave him there at night by himself?" the sheikh asked. "I will be keeping an eye on him all night, your Highness. There is no need to worry about that. And I will make sure he doesn't realize that I am there." "Fine," the sheikh nodded. "If that is what he wants. But Omar," Nahed continued, "is it possible that the boy prefers a woman? That he has lost interest in boys and men?" Omar pondered, not answering immediately. This could explain the strange behavior. "Perhaps you have a point, your highness. Would you like me to arrange for a houri to join him in the tent tonight?" "Let's try and see. You know I want the best for the boy. If he prefers women, so be it. You can't force these things, especially on a young boy like Hamed." "I agree, Highness. I will arrange it." The sheikh nodded, but his heart was still heavy. Tonight there would be no partying, no playing with his boys. Tonight the sheik would impatiently wait and try to discover what he could do to his very precious nephew. Hamed lay in the tent that Omar had set for him in the oasis, and he started crying. He looked around him in the dim light of the candles. Emptiness. Only a couple of days ago, all this space had been filled by Robert, his lover. Robert had covered with kisses, had pressed his body on him, had stroked his erection, had fucked him! Robert had professed his love for him. The young prince sobbed with bitter tears streaming down his dark-skinned face cheeks. He missed the English escort so much. He just wasn't able to control his emotions. His uncle's boys did nothing for him now. All he wanted was for Robert to hug and hold him and to make love to him. Hamed was in love and there was no solution to it. He couldn't pluck Robert away from his life in London and bring him here to the middle of the desert. Robert belonged to England. Hamed belonged to the oasis. The boy heaved and sobbed. There was a faint noise outside the tent. The young prince was supposed to be alone. Who could be out there? A wolf? Hamed's heart raced as he wiped the tears from his face and stood up, drawing a long knife from the sack that Omar had placed inside the tent. There was definitely some kind of an unexplained noise. His hand gripping the knife, shaking, Hamed peeked out. To his surprise, there was a houri a few paces away. He recognized her immediately. She was one of the houris that served him with drink and fruit. What was her name? Jamila. Yes, that was Jamila. She stood there, not approaching, wearing her silken pajamas, flowing around her in the desert breeze. "What are you doing here, Jamila?" Hamed croaked as he exited from the tent. "My prince," the houri said in a sing-song voice. "We are all concerned that you are alone. May I keep you company?" "But I want to be alone. Leave. Now. I don't want your company. I don't want any company!" Hamed's voice broke and he felt the tears build up again behind his eyes. He trembled. Jamila approached and lay a hand on the boy's arm. "I will only stay for a little while, my prince. I will leave as soon as you get bored with me." Hamed wanted to cry. He wished his mother was there. Would she have understood? Would she have held him in her arms and told him that everything was going to be all right? With humped shoulders, the young boy turned and walked heavily back into the tent, the houri carefully and silently following him. Jamila lay next to the moping prince. She placed her hand on his thigh. The boy heaved, but he did not remove her hand or shy away. Somehow, it felt nice. He just didn't want to be lonely although he professed the opposite. Slowly, he turned towards the houri. For the first time, Hamed realized that Jamila was really pretty. He touched her face. It felt smooth. Jamila responded by moving her face closer. Their lips met. Hamed closed his eyes. These were Robert's lips. He sucked hungrily. Oh, Robert, I love you so, he silently said. His tongue probed into the mouth. It tasted sweet. His kissed, his passion rising, his robe tenting. The hand on his erecting penis sent shivers throughout his body. Still he kept his eyes closed. The hand wrapped around his hard, young cock, stroking gently. Hamed squeezed his eyes shut harder. Yes, Robert, my love, yes, love me, baby. Hamed mounted the now-naked houri. As his cock found the female vagina, he was shocked at how easily he penetrated. The opening was wet and it immediately stretched for his 8-inch cock. He thrust in, releasing his weight off his hands and resting on top of the houri. The body under him was soft, too soft. Hamed's eyes were still closed. He moved in and out slowly. Robert, baby, yes, you are so sweet, oh, Robert. I am inside you, my lover. Hamed fucked, increasingly getting more furious, with an urgency unexplained. This was Robert he was pounding. This was Robert's body he was lying on top of. He burst with a scream, squirting his young semen inside the houri. Sweating, the young prince slumped on top of the woman. His cock slipped out of her vagina. Too slimy! Hamed opened his eyes. This was NOT Robert! With a start, he jumped off the startled houri. "What the FUCK are you doing here?" he shouted. His face turned red. He was stark naked, his penis still dripping cum. "My prince," the houri cooed. "You were wonderful. Oh, your manhood made me very happy. My prince. You are more than a man. You are my handsome fucker!" She reached out to touch his wet cock. "GET OUT! GETO OUT!" Hamed viciously kicked at the naked woman at his feet. The houri stumbled out of the tent, gathering his clothes. Hamed doubled over and vomited. Over and over. Streams of vomit shot out of his mouth. "Highness," Omar rushed in. "What happened? What did Jamila do? Did she hurt you? I will kill the bitch!" Hamed grabbed the eunuch's hand, restraining him from going after the houri. "Wait," Hamed was able to say between dry heaves. "Not her fault." "What is it then, Higness?" Omar said as he settled the naked prince down on the carpet. "Bring me some water and towels, and then call back Jamila." Omar hesitated for just a moment, and then he moved to do what his master had ordered. When Jamila returned, Hamed had regained his composure. The boy lay on the carpet, leaning onto s cushion, naked. "Come, Jamila," he said, forcing a smile. When he fucked Jamila, Hamed was thinking of Robert. But it did feel good. The wet woman opening made sliding in much easier than an ass opening. "Did you really mean it, Jamila?" Hamed asked, not bothering to cover his nakedness, tentatively touching one of her hard nipples. "Mean what, my prince?" Jamila said, eyeing the lanky, dark-skinned boy body sporting a man-cock. "What you said? That you like it? Me fucking you?" Hamed cupped one her breasts. It felt firm. "Oh, yes, my prince," Jamila said, a smile returning to her face as she knelt next to the naked boy. She put her hand on the boy cock. "This was so very satisfying," she said in a whisper. Neither of them minded the eunuch standing in the corner of the tent, ready to jump if any harm would come to his prince. "Then suck it," Hamed ordered, starting to get angry that his penis was still flaccid although the houri was stroking it. He always erected as soon as he touched himself. Sometimes he erected even without touching himself. Why not now? Jamila placed her lips around the cock. Hamed instinctively shut his eyes. Instantly, Robert's naked body jumped into his head. As he felt the wet lips encircle his now-erecting cock, Robert's image moved closer until the hard uncircumcised English cock was at his lips. Hamed forced his eyes open and looked at Jamila as she sucked on his erection. This was good, he felt. But Robert was so much better. SO much better. He placed his hand on the back of the houri's head and pushed. She gagged. Definitely, Robert was better. Robert swallowed and massaged his cock with his throat and lips and tongue. Robert held his balls as he sucked on his rod. Robert kneaded his crack. Oh, Robert, I love you. Lifting her off his dick, Hamed lay her on her back and climbed on top of her. She guided him onto her pussy. Hamed penetrated. He slid in easily. It was soft. It was open. It was slimy. There was no resistance to his invading member. The boy started to get soft inside her. He wanted Robert. He wanted man ass: tight, fighting against his erection as he penetrated, squeezing around his shaft, milking him. Hamed's penis slid out of the houri's vagina, soft! "Leave," the young prince hissed at the houri. As soon as Jamila exited, Hamed motioned for the eunuch. Omar knelt and took the boy's penis inside his mouth. Hamed erected instantly. Omar swallowed the whole shaft, his hand kneading the area under the boy's balls, his finger massaging the boy's hole. Hamed erupted with a jarring force. "The young prince likes men, your highness," Omar declared to the sheikh the next morning. "Oh?" the sheikh nodded. "I wonder whether that is good news or bad news. But it is as the Almighty wishes. He likes men, then he likes men, and so we will have to do something about it, won't we?" Nahed scratched his beard. "The young prince did mention to me that he appreciated your harem, highness." "He did, huh? Then a harem will we get him. Bring him to me, Omar." "Your highness," Omar bowed and left to find the young prince.