Date: Sun, 6 Sep 2015 11:23:18 +0100
From: Alexander Mennerton <alexandermennerton@gmail.com>
Subject: Barbershop Quartet

Barbershop Quartet
Four encounters with Barbers; Occasional singeing, definitely no singing.
Gay Male - Encounters - Interracial

I have never understood those gay men who go to unisex hair salons and have
their hair cut by a female.  If someone is going to be touching me, breathing
over me and standing with their genitals just inches from my face, I prefer
that the hairdresser be a male.  Over the years I have sought out old-fashioned
men-only barbershops to enjoy a short time in the company of men, basking in
the aromas of cologne, old spice, manly sweat and testosterone; occasionally
making small talk or just enjoying the silence but for the sound of trimmers
buzzing and scissors snipping.  Turkish and Arab barbershops are my favourite.
Here are four of my most memorable barbershop encounters that I have enjoyed:-

I welcome your comments and feedback - alexandermennerton@gmail.com
--------------------------------------------

1. UK, London, Stoke Newington, Turkish, Mehmet.

I lived in London for a number of years, but mostly in the south of the city.
Whenever I needed a haircut I usually headed north of the river to the Arab
quarter on the Edgware Road where most of the barbers are Iraqi, Lebanese,
Egyptian, or Syrian.  When I had bit more time I would travel to a Turkish
neighbourhood called Stoke Newington.  There are dozens of male barbershops to
choose from and I tried most of them.  One place I chanced upon however became
my favourite and I returned there many times. It was an old-fashioned place and
I assume it was previously an old English barbershop from the 1960's and the
current Turkish owners simply took over the business without needing to refit
the shop.  The mirrors were tarnished and rusted, it was dark and gloomy
inside, and the chairs were large with well-worn green leather.

On my first visit the shop was busy with all four barber chairs in use and
another eight or more young Turkish men waiting.  It was going to be a long
wait as Turkish barbers are always very thorough and never rush.  Time passed
quickly however as I had about 16 Turkish men to look at using various
combinations of mirror reflections, and a cute young man appeared and took
orders for teas and coffees which he collected from the café‚ next door.  I
sipped my Turkish coffee and pondered which of the four barbers I would most
like to have to cut my hair by.  One of them was 'movie-star' handsome, two
were average looking, and one was definitely not handsome but had a rugged
masculine quality.  He was the tallest of the four with broad shoulders,
wearing an old worn and faded shirt revealing the top of a hairy chest, and
several days of chin stubble and very big hands.  He looked more like a farmer
than a barber.  I decided he was my favourite.

I was by now third in line to be called so I observed the various stages of
haircuts and speeds of the four different barbers and calculated that I was in
with a good chance of getting the tall guy. It was a close call as one of the
men in the chairs was older and asked for singeing of the ears where the barber
uses a flame to burn unwanted hair in the ears; another man asked for a bit
more to be trimmed, but then so did the man in what I hoped would be my chair.
It was touch and go but five minutes later I was sitting down in the chair and
the tall guy was fitting the cape around my neck.  He didn't speak much English
and asked me bluntly "how do you want?"  I explained in simple terms and he
seemed to understand.  I made myself comfortable in the big old chair which had
ample armrests.  I asked his name and he replied "Mehmet."  I was enjoying the
haircut and the physical contact when his big hands positioned my head.  I
observed his hairy forearms and savoured his masculine smell.  When he was
working on the side of my head I became aware that he was pressing his groin
onto my arm.  I enjoyed the thought that there were only 4 layers of thin
material separating the flesh of my arm from the flesh of his cock and I
started to imagine that given his height and spade-like hands, he probably has
a thick schlong of Turkish meat.  He moved to the other side and it was the
same again, he was pressing his cock against my arm as he cut my hair.  I
discreetly moved my upper arm back and forth very slightly.  He must have
noticed this as he responded by moving his hips slightly to the left and right.
He was discreetly rubbing his cock against my arm.  I glanced at his face via
the mirror but he was looking only at my hair that he was cutting.  He moved
around to the front to cut my fringe and I became aware that his crotch was
straddling the armrest.  He then lowered himself slightly and the crotch of his
trousers was now resting on the tops of my fingers on the armrest. I didn't
know if he could detect that my fingers were there on the armrest hidden by the
black cape.  I wiggled my fingers slowly and gently and he responded by sliding
his crotch forwards and backwards very slightly, slowly and discreetly so that
no one else in the shop would see.

Still not quite believing that this was happening, while he was moving to the
other side I deliberately moved my hand a few times under the cape to make sure
he knew my hand was there on the armrest and not tucked away in my lap.  I
rested my hand back on the armrest but this time palm up.  Again he straddled
the armrest and slowly and discreetly sank his crotch down onto my caped hand
on the armrest.  I moved my fingertips more boldly this time, from side to
side, and I detected the contour of his testicles through the thin material of
the cape and his polyester trousers.  He continued cutting my hair while
sliding his crotch forwards and backwards very slightly.  With my thumb I felt
the tip of his cock which I sensed was starting to harden.  Thankfully the
black cape against his black trousers would make it very hard for anyone else
in the shop to see any movement but I sensed that Mehmet didn't realise this
and got nervous and backed off.  We still did not make any eye contact and as I
glanced down I could see a definite swelling in his trousers.  He does seem to
have a schlong.  He finished cutting my hair and only when he placed the mirror
to the back of my head to seek my approval for the cut, did we make eye contact
again.  I thanked him in Turkish "Teshekkur Ederim Mehmet", paid and gave him a
generous tip and shook his hand and left.

I returned several times and each time waited for Mehmet to be free to cut my
hair and we repeated the same scenario with him pressing his cock into my upper
arms and then resting his crotch on my hands allowing me to discreetly fondle
his balls and cock through the thin material of the nylon cape and his
trousers.  He always backed off if he became nervous that someone might see or
when his cock started to harden.  I went on different days and different times
of day but the shop was invariably busy and could never get him on his own.  I
think it was probably on my sixth visit that I had written my telephone number
on a scrap of paper and when I paid and tipped him I discreetly handed him the
paper.  I didn't believe for a moment that he would have the courage to call,
especially as his English was not very good.

Three weeks later I received a call late one Sunday afternoon; "You like
Turkish cock?" I guessed and hoped that it was him so I replied "yes."  He
continued; "This Mehmet, you want come tonight to salon? 10'o'clock"  I wasn't
keen on the idea of crossing London late on Sunday night but I thought for a
moment and realised that this might be the only opportunity to get intimate
with Mehmet so I said "yes!"  He replied, "ok, meet 10'o'clock outside post
office on corner near salon."  I replied in simple language "ok, 10'o'clock,
post office."  As it would take me nearly an hour to get there I started to get
ready.  I douched and lubed hoping that he would want to fuck me, trimmed my
pubic hair and shaved my arse before showering and dressing.  I headed out the
door to catch the first of two buses to get to Stoke Newington.

I arrived on time but he was a few minutes late.  He arrived not from the
direction of the salon as I was expecting but from the side street by the post
office. We said "hello!" and I followed him back down the side street and then
left along an alleyway that ran behind the parade of shops.  We arrived at a
gate and he said "this back of salon."  I followed him through the gate and he
unlocked a door and we were in the back room of the salon where they stored
towels and supplies.  It was dark but a little bit of light came through the
security barred window, presumably from a nearby house.  I could vaguely see a
toilet in the corner with the door ajar.  Mehmet locked the door through which
we had entered, and checked that the door through to the salon was locked.  He
then undid his belt and trousers and let them fall to the floor.  He was
wearing baggy shorts and he slid these down and they fell to his ankles.  He
said "you like Turkish cock?" and I replied "yes, I do" and approached him and
knelt down.  My eyes were adjusting to the darkness and I could now see his
cock for the first time.  It was indeed very long while flaccid, about 7 inches
long, circumcised, quite fat.  I caressed it with my hands before taking it in
my mouth and started to suck.  I played with his pendulous balls which were
surprisingly hairy, I felt around his cock and fingered his pubic hair.  I had
mistakenly assumed that all Muslim men shaved their pubic hair.

His cock quickly hardened in my mouth and I had to adjust my position to get
higher as his cock pointed up the sky and had a nice slight upward curve to it.
The width of the head was just slightly larger than the width of his shaft and
I estimated it to be at least 9 inches long.  I could barely close my hand
around the shaft, it was so thick.  I continued sucking and started to explore
his body with my hands.  His arse cheeks were nice and firm and hairy, his legs
were very hairy and he had nice thick hair on his washboard abdomen and across
his chest.  I felt his firm pecs and played with his nipples.  This obviously
had some effect on his as he groaned when I tweaked his nipples and he grabbed
the back of my head and pushed his cock further into my mouth.

He spoke, "you want fuck?" and I replied with a simple "yes."  I stood up and
removed my shirt and trousers remembering to take out the small sachet of
lubricant from my pocket.  I hadn't bothered to wear underwear.  Mehmet fondled
my arse cheeks with his spade-like hands.  I bit open the sachet of lubricant
and applied it to his cock, his fingers, and to my arsehole.  He continued
fondling my arse and teased my sphincter muscle with his fingertips before
poking one of his thick fingers up my arse.  I gave a quiet moan of
appreciation and he proceeded to finger fuck me with one finger, then two, and
then three.  He withdrew his fingers and then shuffled into position and placed
the head of his cock against my arsehole and pushed.  I bent over and opened my
sphincter muscle to let him in and his entire 9 inches plunged into me up to
the hilt.  I gasped with the intrusion, and the first few thrusts were quite
painful and I let out a couple of squeals.  This did not deter him any and he
proceeded to fuck me quite hard.  The pain soon turned to pleasure and the size
and shape of his cock was massaging my prostate gland making my own cock throb.
His forceful thrusting was throwing me off balance while I was bent over so I
stood up and shuffled around slightly so that I could place my hands on the
wall for support.  This position made my arse cheeks softer and rounder and I
could feel his hands feeling my cheeks as he fucked.  He suddenly withdrew his
cock and slapped my arse a couple of times before plunging his cock inside me
again.  I was enjoying every moment of this and started to masturbate my own
cock anticipating that he would not last very long before coming.  A few
minutes later he was grasping my hips and picked up his speed and started
thrusting harder until he grunted loudly while holding his cock in to the hilt
shooting his Turkish seed 9 inches up my arsehole. I rubbed my own cock harder
and a few seconds later I too shot my load.  He withdrew his cock and without
speaking shuffled over to the toilet and grabbed some toilet paper to wipe his
cock.  He raised his shorts and trousers slightly and walked over to the sink
by the window and ran some water and washed his cock.  I had brought my own
tissue paper and rolled some up and shoved it up the crack of my arse to soak
up any leakage on the bus journey home.  I took a piss in the smelly toilet and
got dressed.  He also took a piss while I wiped up my cum from the wall and
floor so as not to leave any evidence of our activity.  There was no affection
and he didn't even comment on our encounter nor say thank you.  He spoke only
to say "ok, let's go!" and after we left and he locked up he said goodbye to me
on the corner by the post office.

I did go back to the salon for a haircut the following month but he was less
tactile than previously.  I assumed that he was straight and now possibly felt
embarrassed or ashamed.  I was taken completely by surprise when he telephoned
me again a few weeks later and we met for a repeat session, again on a Sunday
night in the back of the salon.  The third time, he took me to a scruffy flat a
few streets away which I presume he shared with several Turks who he said were
all at the Turkish centre watching Galatasary football team on television.  We
had only two hours but this time we were both completely naked, were able to
use his bed and fuck face-to-face with me on my back with legs in the air, and,
for the first time, he kissed me and masturbated me to orgasm.  Sadly, that was
the last time we met.  I returned to the salon a few weeks later for a haircut
but he was not there, and when I asked after him, was told that he had gone to
work in Manchester.
--------------------------------------------

2. India, New Delhi, 5 star hotel, Rajesh.
While on company business in New Delhi my company booked me into one of the
large 5 star hotels.  It was rather dated, a bit dark and gloomy compared to
modern builds, but it had lots of character and the facilities, service, and
food were excellent.  I was there for one month and all within the confines of
the hotel, I had a hot fuck from one of the muscled gym coaches, enjoyed a very
sensual and slippery hot-oil four-hands massage by two hairy masseurs, got
fucked by two security guards, sucked off the concierge under his desk, not to
mention a few conquests in the sauna with visiting airline crew.  All that
aside, this story is about my encounter in the little barbershop in the hotel.

There were several corridors off the main lobby with little gift shops, car
rental, a few tour companies, a travel agent, a ladies hair salon, and a one-
man barbershop.  The barbershop was at the end of one of the quietest
corridors, quiet because the tour company offices were open only for a couple
of hours each day when they had tour groups in the hotel, and, at the end of
the corridor was a conference facility which was rarely used with the doors
kept locked.

I was in need of a haircut and went to have a look at the men's salon and check
out the barber.  I found it and met the barber who introduced himself as
Rajesh.  He was just locking up to go for lunch and said that he had a few
appointments this afternoon but would be free between 4pm and 8pm and asked if
I would like to make an appointment.  I didn't want to commit myself to a time
in case I decided to go out or find something else to do but said that I might
return later to see if he was free.  I went for a swim followed by a sauna
which was unusually quiet so decided I would have an early dinner and try for a
haircut afterwards.  Rajesh had struck me as rather handsome and sexy with
beautiful lips and seductive eyes.

I arrived at the salon at 7:30pm and Rajesh was alone and was obviously pleased
to see me.  He invited me to sit in the chair and discussed what type of
haircut I wanted before he gently placed the cape over me and a fastened it
around my neck.  He offered me a drink which I declined but he persisted and I
agreed to take a coffee.  He picked up the phone and ordered a coffee to be
delivered.  He started cutting my hair and we chatted, my coffee arrived and
the maid placed it on the coffee table by the large sofa.  After it had cooled
sufficiently he stopped cutting and passed me my coffee to drink and started to
massage my neck and shoulders instead.  I was enjoying the whole experience and
couldn't help but look at Rajesh through the mirror.  He caught me looking and
smiled at me.  I told him "you are very handsome Rajesh."  "Thank you Saab" he
replied, "and you are also very handsome English gentleman Saab."  I finished
my coffee and he resumed cutting my hair.  He was very tactile and kept
constant contact with a hand on my head even when he was reaching for a
different trimmer blade or his comb and scissors.  He didn't seem to be in a
hurry even though it was now 8pm and it was closing time.  An office clerk
walked in to collect his day's takings and paperwork.  He very politely asked
if I would be paying by cash, card, or charge to my room.  I confirmed the
latter and he asked if I wouldn't mind signing now even though he had not quite
finished.  I obliged and signed the bill so that the clerk could take away the
paperwork to bill my room and complete her end of day accounting.  They both
apologised for the interruption and she left.  Rajesh added that security would
stop by in a few minutes on his round after which we will not be disturbed
again.  I thought that an odd thing to say but did not question it.

He continued cutting my hair.  I was enjoying his touch, especially when he
pressed his groin against my arm or brushed his fly against my hand.  He
finally finished and was showing me the back of my head using his double-handed
mirror when a security guard popped his head in through the door and waved and
bid him goodnight.  As soon as he had left, Rajesh closed and locked the door
and pulled the blind down on the glass door.  He came back to me and asked
"would you like some more massage Saab?"  I replied "yes please Rajesh" and he
removed the cape, brushed away any loose hair and reclined my chair slightly
and proceeded to give me a very relaxing head and shoulders massage.  He then
started to gently massage my face which felt very intimate, especially as we
were two men alone in a locked room.  I then sensed that he was pressing his
groin into my upper arm again but this time I could feel the hardness of his
cock.  This made my cock start to harden and I started to touch myself through
the fabric of my trousers.  I anticipated that he might still be holding back
as I am the client and he is the employee and if I were to turn this around and
complain he could lose his job and his livelihood so I took the lead so that
there was no doubt that I was willing to play.  I turned my head around to face
his bulging crotch and placed my hands on it and attempted to undo his zipper.
His trousers were tight so he helped by undoing his top button to allow me to
access his zipper and pull it down.  It turned out that he was not wearing any
underwear and his cock flopped out and nearly hit me in the eye.  It was a
beautiful cock with smooth dark skin, straight and perfectly proportioned,
about 7 inches long.

I took his cock into my mouth and teased my tongue around his foreskin.  I
mostly prefer cut cocks but this one just looked, felt and tasted right.
Meanwhile Rajesh was undoing my trousers and released my cock.  As I was still
sitting in the barber's chair with my neck craned to one side, I moved to get
up out of the chair to be more comfortable.  I asked Rajesh if we were safe
here in the salon.  He said that the door is locked and nobody could see in and
that security would not bother us, but he also volunteered to switch off the
light to make me feel more comfortable.  I suggested we undress first as I
wanted to see him naked.  We undressed each other and I admired his beautiful
body.  Probably about 5'10" tall, broad shoulders, smooth chest but with hairy
legs, well defined pecs, slim, a beautiful arse and a beautiful cock.  His skin
was dark and I suspect he was from the south of India.  We embraced and kissed
passionately for a few minutes before he led me to the sofa.  He threw a few
towels over the sofa in case we made a mess and he placed a bottle of oil on
the coffee table and then he switched off the light.  In the darkness he
embraced me again and we kissed some more.  Without the light I was more aware
of the smoothness of his skin and of his exotic smell, a faint hint of curry
spice mixed with eau de cologne.  We made ourselves comfortable on the sofa and
explored each other's bodies and sucked cocks.  As my eyes adjusted to the
darkness I saw that a small amount of light from the corridor leaked through
the door and blind which illuminated the contour of his beautiful dark-skinned
buttocks.  I am normally always bottom and prefer to be fucked, but I hoped
that I would be able to plunge my cock into his gorgeous Indian arse.

We repositioned ourselves on the sofa so that I could rim his arsehole.  I
spent a good twenty minutes relaxing his sphincter muscle with my tongue before
starting to insert my fingers and massage his prostate.  This heightened his
pleasure as he started to moan gently.  I went back to kissing him and I asked
"can I fuck you Rajesh?"  He replied "yes please, but I want to taste your seed
in my mouth."  I assured him that I would pull out before coming and let him
taste my cum.  He knelt on the sofa and the faint stream of light from the
corridor again illuminated his chiselled buttocks.  I applied some oil to his
hole and to my cock and penetrated him gently and started to fuck. The heat
from inside his arse and the tightness of his sphincter muscle felt incredible
and I had to slow down to avoid reaching orgasm too quickly.  I wanted to kiss
him so I withdrew and asked him to lie on his back on the sofa.  He raised his
legs automatically and I penetrated him again and fucked him slowly and gently
while kissing him and fondled his muscular pecs and teased his nipples with my
hands.  Soon I was approaching orgasm and I withdrew my cock and helped him to
sit up on the sofa and placed my hands around the back of his neck and he took
my cock in his mouth and sucked.  He also skilfully massaged my perineum and
arsehole at the same time and within minutes I experienced an intense orgasm
and shot my load into his mouth.  I was literally shaking and my legs were like
jelly.  He helped me to lie down on the sofa and we embraced and kissed.  I
could taste my own cum in his mouth.  He then said "and now I want to fuck
you."

I oiled his cock for him and I applied oil to my arsehole.  I was still lying
on the sofa so I raised my legs and he kneeled and placed the head of his cock
on my rosebud and pushed home.  His cock was a comfortable size for me and I
settled down to enjoy the fuck.  His broad shoulders were silhouetted against
the faint light from the door behind him.  I fondled his pecs and nipples and
he bent down and kissed me several times.  After a few minutes he wanted to
change position and he helped me off the sofa to my feet, turned me around and
bent me over and he planted his cock inside me again.  This time he started to
fuck with more force and he was now hitting my prostate.  He fucked me in this
position for a good ten minutes or so before having me kneel on the sofa.  He
stood behind me and started plunging his cock in and out of my arse withdrawing
his cock each time.  For a seemingly gentle man, he was fucking me with brutish
force and was really bashing my prostate hard which was turning me on.  My cock
was hard again and I was masturbating and moaning loudly.  He changed position
slightly which enabled me to raise my torso giving me better access to my cock
and he was now fucking me with short deep thrusts while keeping his cock inside
of me.  When not grasping my hips he was squeezing my nipples and a couple of
times he pulled me back so that we could kiss.  I was getting close to a second
orgasm and I think he was close too. Another few minutes of hard pounding and I
was grunting loudly as I shot my second load over the towels on the sofa.  My
sphincter muscle must have contracted which sent him over the edge and he too
gasped aloud and held his cock deep inside me as he filled my arse with spicy
Indian cum.  We embraced and kissed for a few minutes more before he whispered
"sorry Saab, but I should get home, my wife will start to worry if I am too
late."
--------------------------------------------

3. Tunisia, Bizerte, Bechir.
I was travelling around Tunisia independently which was very cheap and easy to
do using their excellent shared taxi system called 'louages.'  I had travelled
to most major towns, coastal resorts, attractions and sites of historical
importance as well as spending time in a Sahara desert oasis in the far south
of the country.  I had enjoyed Arab sex in hammam's, on the beach, against a
palm tree in the desert oasis, in hotel rooms, on the floor of a carpet shop in
the souk, in the back of a taxi, on the castle ramparts of the medina in Sfax,
and in the toilets of Tunis main railway station.

I travelled to the northernmost town of Bizerte to meet a friend of a friend.
Bizerte is a pleasant town, clean and tidy with a definite French feel which
contrasts greatly to the more Arabic coastal and sub-Saharan towns. Mohamed
went to Leeds University with my old school friend Sarah.  He must have changed
considerably since Sarah knew him as he turned out to be a boring old fart! An
accountant, married, two children, collects stamps and coins, with very little
to say.  Conversation was laboured.  I was glad when we finished lunch and I
declined his offer of dinner at home with his family saying that I had to get
back to Tunis to meet some other friends at the airport who were flying in from
the UK.  I thanked him for lunch and bade him farewell.

Having arrived by louage, I thought I would take the train back to Tunis.  I
was walking along the Avenue Bourguiba towards the railway station when I
spotted a tiny little hallaq (barbershop) with a very cute barber.  I was in
need of a haircut so I stepped in, exchanged greetings in Arabic and sat down.
No other customers were waiting and he looked to be nearly finished with the
elderly gentlemen in the chair.  Common with the north of Tunisia, the walls
were painted white and the woodwork a sky blue colour.  There was only one
barber's chair and only three small chairs for waiting.  I calculated that it
was actually a front room of a house and the door at the back of the shop
presumably led to private quarters.  The old man was finished and he stood up
and we chatted briefly in French and my smattering of Arabic about the weather
and my travels.  He also usefully introduced me to the barber whose name is
Bechir.  He bade us farewell and left.  Bechir invited me to sit in the chair
and proceeded to fasten the cape around my neck.  We chatted mostly in French
with a little bit of Arabic and English while he cut my hair.  He was a very
pleasant young man and I felt very relaxed.  He looked to be about 25, short,
with fair skin, tight curly light brown hair and beautiful green eyes.  In any
country with a history of occupation and colonisation, there will always be
some pleasant surprises as a result of mixing of cultures in previous
generations.  Typical of most Arabs however, he asked me if I was married, and
when I replied "no", he asked if I had a girlfriend.  Instead of replying with
a simple 'no' I volunteered the following "no, no girlfriend, I don't like
girls, I like men, I like Arab men, I like Arab cock."  He didn't respond to
this but I could see from his face that he was digesting this information.  He
continued cutting my hair in silence until this was broken by a visiting knife
sharpener on a bicycle.  Bechir passed him a couple of pairs of scissors to be
sharpened and the man sharpened them on a crude pedal operated grindstone on
the back of his bicycle.  These were returned and Bechir passed him the
scissors that he had been using on my hair.  When they were sharpened Bechir
passed him a couple of coins and he went away.  Bechir apologised for the
interruption and I told him that it was fine as I was in no hurry to which he
replied "when I finish I will make tea."  I smiled at him through the mirror
and he flashed me a beautiful smile in return.

The haircut was finished and no other customers had arrived.  Bechir closed and
locked the salon door and turned the sign from ouvert to fermé‚ and led me
through the back door which led into what I would call a bedsit.  There was a
single bed, an armchair, a small kitchenette and another door with an old-
fashioned porcelain tile stating 'salle de bains' (bathroom).  He filled a
kettle and placed it on the stove.  While waiting for the tea I paid him for
the haircut and I passed him a 20 dinar bill which was more than enough. He
went to get change and said "Maalesh, Laisse tombé‚!" (Don't worry, I don't need
change).  He bowed his head in thanks and made the tea.  I sensed that he was
starting to feel nervous and flustered and I suspect that he was over-thinking
what we might discuss or what, if anything, might happen.  He passed me a glass
of tea and I gave him a gentle smile.  I was starting to form the impression
that he is probably a virgin and never had any kind of sexual contact with
anyone.  Whether he is gay or straight was impossible to tell at this stage, he
possibly wouldn't even know himself.  It was quite possible that he could be
totally heterosexual but now thinking that my declaration of sexual preference
had presented an opportunity for him to have a sexual experience, albeit with
the wrong gender.  What happened next took me by surprise.  He started to
visibly shake and tears welled up in his eyes as he started to cry.  I took the
tea from his hand and put mine down and took him in my arms and held him.

His crying subsided and I wiped away his tears with my thumb and gave him a
smile.  He held my gaze and we leaned in towards each other and kissed,
starting with gentle brushing of the lips and finishing with a full blown
passionate kiss that we held until our tea had cooled considerably.  To cut a
long story short, we moved to the bed and kissed and chatted for hours.  I
ended up spending the night and we enjoyed hours of exploring each other's
bodies and sucking cock.  He had a beautiful 7 inch cut cock and I sucked him
to orgasm a total of 4 times.  He enjoyed learning how to suck my cock and I
came twice. We fell asleep in each other's arms and made love again on waking.
We bathed together and he made coffee and breakfast.  He said the salon would
be busy in the morning but that he could close in the afternoon.  I agreed to
stay for another day and went shopping while he worked and bought him a few
things for his humble little home and salon and some new clothes.  The
following night he asked about fucking so I taught him about rimming,
lubrication, different positions and techniques.  I let him fuck me first and
then I fucked him very slowly and gently as it was his first time.  We spent
most of the night with his cock up my arse in every conceivable position.  The
following morning I got to fuck him a second time.  I stayed two more days and
nights but finally had to say goodbye as my time in Tunisia was running out
before my flight home.  It was an emotional goodbye and I knew it was unlikely
that I would return to Bizerte or see him again.  At least Bechir was no longer
a virgin and was better able to understand his own sexual orientation.  I
finally caught the train to Tunis that I had set out to catch 4 days earlier,
but it was busy morning commuter service and I very nearly bumped into boring
Mohamed on the platform.  Thankfully I spotted him before he saw me and I moved
down the platform to board a different carriage to avoid having to talk to him.
--------------------------------------------

4. Ghana, Tamale, Alhaji, Kofi, Fadi, and a few others.
Backpacking in my younger days around the beautiful country of Ghana in West
Africa gave me my first taste of African Muslim gangbanging and it all started
in a little local barbershop in the back streets of Tamale in the Muslim north
of the country.

Tamale is an unattractive dust-swept town on a plain in the Sahel, the savannah
lands between the Sahara desert and lush green rainforests to the south.  There
is absolutely no reason to visit Tamale other than as a stopping off point en-
route to the more interesting places of Bolgatanga, Navrongo, Wa, Larabanga,
the Gbele and Mol‚ game reserves, and to see the hippo's in the Black Volta
river.  No doubt transportation has improved a hundredfold since I was there
when buses were rickety old boneshakers, reminiscent of old American school
buses, with open windows and noisy diesel engines pouring out black smoke.
Mini-buses, called tro-tro's designed for 7 passengers would carry 14; in rural
areas it was not uncommon to see trucks being used for public transport
carrying dozens of people in the back.  Horses were rare, but I did see a few
donkeys and camels in the north.  The big buses operated by the STC bus company
were always filled beyond capacity with people on jump seats, standing, or
sometimes riding on the roof.  Invariably there were screaming babies and live
chickens in bags or crates.  Travelling around in such crowded conditions I
often had my arse surreptitiously fondled and I got to 'accidentally' feel a
few unbelievably long cocks through the thin material of their kaftans.

Anyway! back to Tamale; unsurprisingly the old bus I was travelling on towards
Tamale had broken down meaning that I arrived into Tamale too late to make a
connection to the north so I went off in search of a cheap hotel.  After a
refreshing shower I went out and filled up on fufu and jollof rice.  I had a
walk around town to stretch my legs and I stumbled upon a little barbershop
that was still very busy at 9pm. It was a rickety old wooden building, brightly
lit with a precariously hanging fluorescent tube and 2 barber chairs and a
dozen or so young men all busy chatting above the noise of a radio.

I walked in and greeted everyone with an "Assalaamu-alaykum" and an "Etisayn"
(Twi) and "Sannu" (Hausa) for good measure.  Their conversation immediately
stopped at the surprise of a tourist invading their space and I felt all eyes
burning into me.  I addressed the barbers and asked if I could have a haircut
gesturing with two scissoring fingers at the same time.  They both nodded and
one managed to speak saying "yes, yes, welcome!"  As I had stopped the
conversation I took the opportunity to shake the hands of, and to introduce
myself to everyone in the shop.  A few people were standing, but those sitting
down squeezed together and made room for me to sit down and we started
chatting.  English is the official language of Ghana and is taught in schools
so language was not a problem.  They asked questions about me, about England,
my travels around Ghana.  I threw in a few words of Twi and Hausa which they
appreciated along with references to fufu, banku, kenke, jollof, and red-red,
all popular dishes in Ghana.  I faked an interest in football and mentioned
Hearts, Kotoko, and Savana Stars and this kick-started multiple conversations
which brought the ambience and noise level back to what it was before I walked
in.  I had been 'accepted.'  I was handed a bottle of 'club' beer which I
gratefully accepted.  I noticed there was a beer fridge in the opposite corner
and several of the men were drinking beer.  Although northern Ghana is
predominantly Muslim, they are very liberal and freely drink beer.
Both men sitting either side of me, Alhaji and Kofi, were probably in their
late 20's and big, strong, tall, slim and muscular guys with big hands.  In the
cramped quarters of this little barbershop we were sitting wedged in together
and I could feel the heat of their bodies.  They were both quite tactile and
occasionally and casually placed a hand on my knee or on my back.  I observed
the barbers as they worked quickly on each customer, they all seemed to have a
number 1 trimmer cut which took just a few minutes followed by a little razor
blade trimming around the edges.  Within minutes we were shuffling around and
people went to the chair in turn.  Each time, they offered me, as 'guest of
honour' to take the chair but I declined, happy to wait and enjoy the
conversation and body contact with these tall and handsome African men.  During
the shuffling, Kofi to my right, had need to stand several times to allow
people to move around the very tight space of the waiting area.  Through the
thin material of his beige coloured kaftan I observed, just inches from my
face, that he had a very large cock that was starting to harden and 'tent' his
kaftan.  Alhaji must have seen me looking as he whispered in my ear "you want
to see big African cock?"  Hearing this and feeling his ample lips brush
against my ear caused my own cock to stir.  I nodded affirmatively and he
stroked my back.

Alhaji was next in the chair and I engaged in conversation with Kofi.  I
reciprocated some of the tactility and casually touched his back with my hand
or placed it on his thigh.  As we chatted sitting next to each other I observed
Alhaji in the barber's chair.  At one point he turned around and gave me a wink
and a smile.  The barber too, I had failed to mention, was very handsome, not
as tall as the others, and quite heavy and chunky, his name I learned was Fadi.
Many of those who had already had their hair cut had not left, and many more
men arrived and were standing around chatting and drinking beer.  This was not
simply a place to get a haircut, but also a bar and a social hub.  Kofi was
next in the chair, no one seemed to notice or think it unusual that he
obviously had a semi-erection tenting his kaftan.  Alhaji came and sat next to
me again and took a slug of his beer and placed his wet lips to my ear and
whispered "afterwards, we go to my house and drink more beer, will you come?"
I asked him "how far away?" and told him the name of my hotel.  He said "only 5
minutes from your hotel, I walk you back."  I accepted.  I was next in the
chair with Fadi, he had a strong, masculine smell of sweat which was pleasantly
intoxicating.  Through the crude broken mirror and out of the corner of my eyes
I observed that several people were watching.  I don't think they had seen a
white man have his hair cut before and I think Fadi was at a loss as to what to
do.  I quickly told him, number 2 trimmer back and sides.  Leave long on the
top.  I also saw Alhaji hand over money to the other barber and pick up a crate
of beer.  My haircut was finished and I paid Fadi. As I stood out of the chair
he whispered in my ear "see you later."

I left with Alhaji, Kofi, and three others.  We stopped at a convenience store
to buy bags of ice to cool the beer and Alhaji bought another case of beer.  I
picked up a few bags of crisps and nuts and a small bottle of coconut oil.
Alhaji volunteered to pay for those too but I insisted and handed over my money
to the shopkeeper.

We arrived at Alhaji's house which was a humble concrete dwelling, but
comfortably furnished.  Cold beers were taken out of the fridge, more beer
placed on ice, music was put on, packets of crisps and nuts opened, and Alhaji
put some other snacks out on the table.  Someone else started to cook rice and
plantain.  There were two large 3-seater sofas and several armchairs.  Alhaji
told me that the house belongs to his father who is a mining engineer and
working away in South Africa.  I asked for the toilet and went to pee and apply
some coconut oil to my arsehole.  I went back to the lounge and two more men
had arrived that I didn't recognise from the barbershop so assumed they were
friends or neighbours.  I sat next to Kofi on the sofa and just as I was
sitting he must have slipped his hand underneath so I ended up sitting on the
palm of his hand and he started to work his finger into the crack of my arse.
Another two men arrived that I did recognise from the barbershop, they were
carrying two bottles of whisky.  We drank beer and whisky and chatted and I
observed several of the men including Alhaji were playing 'pocket billiards'
fondling their cocks through the material of their kaftans or via the side
pocket with their hand underneath.  I got up to go for a pee, I noticed the
clock on the wall, it was 10:30pm.  As I left the bathroom Alhaji was waiting
for me at the door to his bedroom and gently pulled me in.  He closed the door,
but not fully, and embraced and kissed me.

He helped me to undress and he slipped off his kaftan over his head and threw
it on a chair.  He must have previously removed his shorts as he was instantly
naked.  At over 6ft tall he towered above me.  I admired his broad shoulders
and well defined pecs, washboard stomach, and beautiful ebony skin.  His cock,
already fully hard, looked to be about 11 inches long, fatter than a beer can,
and with a downward curve.  This was going to be a painful fuck and I wished I
could have started with a smaller cock, my prayers would soon be answered
however.  I sank to my knees and took his cock in my mouth and started to suck.
One small consolation was that he had a pointed tip which would make entry a
little easier.  Downward curved cocks are the only ones I can comfortably and
successfully deep throat and after a few minutes of sucking I was able to relax
my throat sufficiently to swallow his entire 11 inches.  As my nose brushed his
wiry pubic hair he exclaimed "wow!"  At the same time the door opened and in
walked Kofi.  He closed the door fully and slipped off his Kaftan, he too was
not wearing shorts.  He stood next to Alhaji and I started to suck them
alternately.  Kofi's cock was smaller and thinner, but small by Saharan
standards means about 8 inches and still quite thick.  Kofi's cock was
straight, with a larger head and nicely proportioned.  I was able to deep
throat him too and I think this was a new experience for them both.  As I
looked up I was surprised to see them kissing passionately.  They are obviously
very close friends or possibly even lovers I thought to myself.

They helped me to my feet and I enjoyed some 3-way kissing with them while they
both fondled my arse poking fingers up my arsehole.  I broke away to grab my
little bottle of coconut oil that I had just bought.  We moved onto the double
bed and Kofi and I assumed a 69 position and sucked each other's cocks while
Alhaji was expertly kissing and rimming my arsehole, relaxing my sphincter with
his tongue.  We changed position slightly so that Kofi was lying on the bed
underneath me.  Alhaji oiled Kofi's cock and guided me to sit on it.  I started
bouncing up and down on Kofi's cock while Alhaji moved around and placed his
cock to Kofi's mouth.  The sight of these two beautiful black men being
intimate with each other and with Kofi's cock massaging my prostate as I
bounced up and down on it soon sent me over the edge and I shot my load all
over Kofi's chest, the white cum contrasted against his ebony skin.  Alhaji
bent down and licked up all of my cum and then kissed Kofi sharing my cum
between them.  Kofi then lifted himself up with me still sitting on his cock,
kissed me, and I could taste my own cum on his tongue.  With Alhaji's help they
positioned me on my back without removing Kofi's cock.  Alhaji stood at the
foot of the bed, held my legs back and bent his knees to lower his cock into my
mouth.  Kofi started to fuck me, slowly and gently at first but soon picking up
speed and force until he grunted very loudly, so loudly that there was a
reactionary cheer from the others in the lounge.  Kofi had shot his load deep
in my arse.

Now it was Alhaji's turn and as Kofi withdrew he kneeled into place on the bed.
Kofi oiled his cock for him while kissing him and helped by guiding Alhaji's
cock to my hole.  Despite having just been fucked and the copious amount of
coconut oil for lubrication it was painful adjusting to his incredible girth
but he was slow and considerate and didn't attempt to get his whole 11 inches
in too soon.  Kofi moved around, sometimes watching Alhaji's massive cock
plundering my white arsehole, kissing me or kissing Alhaji, playing with my
nipples and my cock, and dipping his now flaccid cock in my mouth.  Alhaji
started increasing his thrust and force until his entire 11 inches was impaling
my arse.  It was both painful and pleasurable as the downward curve of his cock
was giving my prostate a thorough pounding.  I asked if we could change
position and he withdrew his cock.  I went onto my knees and he re-entered from
behind.  This position was slightly more comfortable at the beginning but as he
started to thrust very hard I started to grunt and squeal.  The sensation is
hard to explain, but beyond the pain, it felt wonderful having such a big fat
black cock filling my guts.  My squealing got louder and there was more cheer
and laughter of acknowledgment coming from the lounge.  Alhaji continued
pounding relentlessly and I felt as though he totally owned my body and I had
no power to move or resist.  A few more thrusts and he was grunting loudly as
he reached orgasm and shot his seed 11 inches deep inside my arse.  He withdrew
his cock and my arse felt empty.  My hole must have been wide open and they
both looked at it and smiled and poked their fingers inside.  Kofi thoughtfully
poured some more coconut oil inside my arse while it was open.  They both
kissed me and reached for their kaftans and dressed.  They asked if I would
like some more cock and I replied "yes please, and could I have another beer
please?"  They smiled and replied "of course."  They exited and wedged the door
wide open, "just call us if you need us."

I lay face down on the bed exposing my arse to the open door waiting for the
next big black cock to fuck my arse.  I didn't have to wait long as the next
man arrived clutching two bottles of beer and he passed me one.  He sat on the
bed and fondled my buttocks while downing his beer.  He let out a loud belch
and there was another cheer from the lounge.  He lifted off his kaftan and slid
down his shorts to reveal a handsome cock about 9 inches long with a slight
upward curve and an oversized mushroom head.  I asked him if I could suck it
and he kneeled into position and stuck his cock in my mouth.  It was far too
wide to be able to deep throat it and I gagged a few times as his cock hit the
back of my throat.  He started to slap my arse cheeks and there was more cheer
and laughter from the lounge.  I started to realise that this was part of the
game, to impress their friends with noises of conquest.  He withdrew his cock
from my mouth.  I reached for my oil and oiled his cock as it was so wide and
would stretch me even more than Alhaji did.  He pushed the head of his cock to
my hole and started to push, because of the sheer size of his mushroom head I
had to focus to relax and push back to let him in.  He entered me forcefully to
the hilt and I yelped out in pain.  Sure enough there was another cheer from
the lounge.  He started to fuck me brutally making a slapping sound against my
arse cheeks with every thrust. His cock filled my arse wonderfully and his
mushroom head was pounding my prostate and I sensed I was approaching another
orgasm.  Unfortunately he came first with very loud grunting and more cheers
from the lounge.  He withdrew his cock and slapped my arse a few times.  This
set the scene for the remainder of the evening.  It was all about noise,
showing off, and forceful fucking.  We hadn't even spoken and he grabbed his
clothes and walked out, dumping his clothes on the floor as he went into the
bathroom to wash.  Many Muslim men are compelled to wash immediately after
sexual contact.

The next man arrived within seconds, this one seemed to be older, and I don't
think I had met him yet.  He slipped off his kaftan and slid down his shorts.
He was shorter and had a bit of a belly and quite hairy and a very fat cock
which he shoved in my mouth and started to slap my arse.  More cheers from the
lounge.  His cock was oozing precum and was soon fully hard.  He took my arm
and pulled me from the bed and led me out of the bedroom into the corridor and
turned me around and placed my hands on the wall and he slapped my arse again
before shoving his fat cock up my arse in full view of the others in the
lounge.  This man was a complete show off.  I felt a complete slut being
brutally fucked with an audience.  He fucked for about five minutes in this
position before lifting my hands off the wall and pushed me down so that I was
touching my toes.  He grasped my hips and continued fucking with great force.
I turned my head to see my audience a few yards away in the lounge watching
with lust and fascination while fondling their cocks under or through their
kaftans.  My fucker came a few minutes later making ridiculously noisy grunts,
obviously overacting, I was not impressed, but the audience cheered him. He
withdrew his cock and slapped my arse a couple of times and led me back into
the bedroom.  Surprisingly, in the privacy of the bedroom he planted a kiss on
my lips and thanked me.  He picked up his kaftan and exited for the bathroom.

I made myself comfortable on the bed again lying face down exposing my arse to
the open door and waited for the next assault.  Three young men arrived
together, I recognised two of them from the barbershop, they were all in their
late teens or early twenties I guessed.  They all stripped off revealing their
already erect cocks, all between 8-9 inches long of varying shapes and widths.
One of them immediately climbed on top of me and pushed his cock into my arse
and started fucking.  I beckoned for the other two to kneel in front of me so
that I could suck their cocks.  They had very sweet tasting cocks but after a
few minutes they withdrew and backed off.  I guessed they would all have a
short fuse and were going to come very quickly and sure enough the young guy
fucking me grunted and shot his load up my arse.  He withdrew and one of the
others took his place and started fucking me.  I heard cheers at the door and
looked around and saw that we now had an audience in the bedroom.  A couple of
them undressed and started playing with their cocks.  The guy fucking me
grunted and withdrew his cock and showered his cum all over my back.  The whole
room cheered.  The third guy moved into position and lifted me up to my knees
and entered me and started fucking.  The other two naked guys moved onto the
bed and presented their cocks for me to suck, one of them had a 10 inch long
but quite thin cock and I was able to deep throat this with more cheers from
the audience.

I lost count of how many cocks fucked my arse, it was one after the other in
rapid succession.  Alhaji and Kofi popped in occasionally to check on me and
brought me another beer.  Fadi, who had cut my hair made an appearance and
fucked me hard for a quite a long time.  Some of the men came back for seconds
and fucked me for longer, my arse must have been wide open and really sloppy
and I had no control over my sphincter muscle.  The air was thick with the
smell of sweat and cum.  Alhaji returned and fucked me again for a very long
time before sticking his cock down my throat to shoot his load.  I could sense
his cock deep in my throat throb with each spurt as he ejaculated down my
gullet.  After he withdrew there was no one else waiting.  I was exhausted and
flopped on the bed.  Cum was oozing out of my arsehole.  I asked Alhaji the
time and he went to look at the clock and came back and said 2:30am.  I had
been fucked more or less continuously by more than 20 big black African cocks
for 4 hours!

Alhaji helped me to the bathroom so that I could toilet and shower.  The shower
revived me somewhat but my legs were still quite wobbly.  There was no towel
but as I exited the bathroom dripping wet, Alhaji, who was changing the bed
linen, quickly found a towel and wrapped it around me and led me to the lounge
and sat me down on a chair.  Both sofas had someone sleeping on them and empty
beer bottles, full ashtrays, and remains of snacks littered the room. I asked
after Kofi and he said he would be back very soon.  Alhaji suggested that I
sleep here rather than going back to the hotel.  I agreed that was a good idea
as my legs were still weak and I wasn't sure if it would be a problem to get
into the hotel at this hour.  He brought me a glass of water which I sipped
while he cleared away the beer bottles and ashtrays and dirty plates. He came
and sat on the armrest and tousled my hair and asked if I was ready to sleep.
I nodded yes and he helped me up, turned off the lights and led me to the
bedroom.  Thankfully there was a breeze and the air in the bedroom was now
fresh.  We lay on the bed and he pulled the covers over us and we hugged and
kissed.  I heard a moped pull up and switch off.  Alhaji simply said "Kofi is
home."  I asked Alhaji "are you and Kofi lovers?"  He replied "yes, for many
years, since we were at school together, but it is difficult here, we have to
be careful and not tell too many people, they don't understand."

Kofi arrived in the bedroom and joined us in bed and we kissed and caressed and
chatted for a while longer.  I was sandwiched between these beautiful ebony
lovers.  As I was falling asleep, I thought to myself, how lucky that my bus
broke down and that I found this barbershop and decided to go for a haircut.
End.

If you enjoyed these stories, please let me know, I welcome your comments and
feedback - alexandermennerton@gmail.com