Date: Mon, 27 Aug 2007 14:13:14 +1000 (EST) From: Zac Grech Subject: Moroccan Nights Late at night in the backstreets of any Moroccan town you get the feeling you shouldn't be there. Especially in a port city like this one where anything goes. The smell of frying fish, a few men with greedy eyes under a streetlight, silky blackness. A skinny youth in a white jellaba grips his crotch and grins. You'd be crazy to do more than grin back. After getting lost a couple of times up inky-black alleyways, we eventually found the youth hostel we'd left our things at earlier in the evening, but the door was locked. Shit! Sure, the warden guy had said there was a curfew, but we were only half an hour late. I banged on the door. Nothing. 'So what do we do?' My kid brother Nick was looking nervous. He ran his hand through his thick, straw-coloured hair. 'Fucked if I know,' I said. We couldn't just stand around in the street. A couple of young guys leaning against the wall opposite were already watching us intently, murmuring to each other and laughing softly. The tall, lanky one with spiky hair socked his mate playfully in the balls and flashed us a cocky grin. It was pretty clear that we had to do something quickly - our arses were on the line here, and mine was still pretty sore from the pounding I'd got from a stringy beanpole of a guy in a hammam the day before. He'd just come into my shower-stall, locked the door and fucked me up against the tiles, no questions asked. And they have lethal prongs, these guys - long and rock hard. No sweet talking, just a bit of brutal ramming, a few spasms and you've got a fuck-chute full of Arab ball-juice. I hadn't even had time to jack off. And not more than five minutes later I'd caught the fucker sniffing round young Nick in the rest room. Well, if he was after another juicy piece of blond-haired fuck-meat, he'd have to try one of the German boys in the steam room - I'd had enough for one night and wanted to get back to the hostel. (Anyway, Nick's not quite as blond as he looks, once you get his pants off.) 'Come on, let's get out of here,' I said, tossing him his shirt and jeans. 'What's the hurry?' As if he didn't know. He could probably even smell the cockslime leaking out of my bruised hole. But he came quietly. I picked up a stone and threw it against the shutters of our room. With any luck, the English guy we were sharing the room with would be there and haul us inside. 'Joe, are you there?' I called up to him. He threw the shutters open and stood there, silhouetted against the yellow light. He was stripped to his boxers - he'd probably been in bed - and, with his glossy skin, the rings in his nipples and tousled brown hair ... well, I felt a zing in my cock just looking at him. His boxers were slung low, too, just below the lush hairline. The shorter guy on the other side of the street called out something in Arabic and got another sock in the balls from his mate. While he was doubled over clutching his crotch, the tall one started strolling across towards us.'Give us a hand up, Joe,' I said. 'Quickly.' I could already smell the guy's cigarette as he sidled up behind us. In just a few seconds, Joe had Nick inside and I was already half through the window, with just my legs still dangling outside. I felt a tug on my right leg and a hand jam into my crack, rubbing to find my still gaping hole. 'O vas-tu, mon ami?' Low, husky voice. His thumb found my hole and pressed hard. He smacked his lips. 'Quel cul t'as! Nice arse, my friend. Tu ne veux pas passer une belle soiree avec moi? You like a nice time tonight?' And again he ground his thumb inside the still pouting lips of my fuck-hole through the thin cotton of my shorts. Then he slid a hand up the leg of my shorts and grabbed my balls. 'Pull me inside, mate - the bastard's got me by the balls.' Joe gave me a yank, I slid up over the sill and into the room. I rubbed my balls and looked back at the grinning guy below. 'Why you no come with me, mon ami?' he drawled, still grinning. 'I fuck you good. And then you can fuck my friend' - he nodded over his shoulder at his sidekick, smirking behind him - 'he like cock very much. You can fuck him hard.' 'Maybe tomorrow,' I said, reaching out to close the shutters. 'I wait you tomorrow night,' he said, stroking the bulge of the fuck-pole snaking down his thigh. 'You bring your friends - I fuck them too.' Talk about horned up - this guy needed to punch his cock into male arse NOW. The chances of his little mate getting home unfucked were just about zero, I'd say. 'OK - demain.' I slammed the shutters closed and turned round. Joe was just settling back on his bunk, pulling one knee up to his chest. Damn me if the flared head of his cock wasn't dangling out of the leg of his boxers - and glinting on the end of it was a thick brass ring. 'Sounds like you've got quite a night lined up for tomorrow,' he said with a smile and a twitch of his eyebrows. His smooth, almost boyish chest was covered in a light sheen of sweat - it was a sultry night. He had a man's legs, though - good calves, hairy. Straight guys like Joe - I guessed he was straight - with a feral edge get me really juiced up. Get them in the right mood, horsing around a bit with a few mates, and they can go off like a rocket. The guys on the street, this half-naked young animal on the bunk with wild black curls sprouting up over his waistband - they were getting me really hot to nail some arse. If my little brother started monkeying about the way he did sometimes after lights out, he'd get my cock shoved up him for sure, whether he wanted it or not. Meanwhile, I looked over at Joe. I was just starting to have fantasies about getting my tongue up into the furry fork behind his balls while I jacked him off, when there was a sharp rap on the door. This sounded like trouble. It was the fucking warden. Tall, coal-black hair, mid-thirties, jeans and t-shirt, and the sort of five o'clock shadow that would rip the hairs out of your crack if he ever got his face in there. Just me fantasizing again, of course. That wouldn't be his style. 'Which one of you opened the window?' Joe raised a naked arm, almost sleepily. 'So you two broke the curfew.' He fixed his black eyes on us. 'OK, you're out. All three of you. I'll give you ten minutes.' None of us said a word. He turned on his heel and shut the door. 'Leave this to me,' Joe said, getting to his feet, his stalk still dangling below the hem of his shorts. 'We had a little ... ah ... situation here yesterday ... and sorted it out OK.' 'What sort of situation?' Nick was looking rattled. 'Just a little misunderstanding over what I was smoking. I'll be back in a minute.' He hoisted up his boxers and padded out the door. 'What'll happen if we get thrown out?' Nick was getting seriously jittery. It was his fault we'd broken the curfew, actually - if he hadn't wandered off earlier in the night into the park across from the cafe we'd been sitting in, followed quickly, I might say, by the two sailors who'd been giving him the eye from the next table, none of this would have happened. He'd been gone for nearly an hour - bent over a bench in the dark, probably, knowing him, getting pack-raped. All I said when he got back was 'You're a fucking idiot, Nick' and all he'd done was give me a sheepish grin, but I knew the smell of freshly fucked arse when it hit me in the nostrils. 'Don't worry about it - Joe'll sort it out.' I had a pretty good idea what 'sorting it out' would mean, too: one of us would pay with his arse. But I wasn't going to tell Nick that, not yet. Which one was going to cop it was probably what they were talking about on the other side of the door at that very minute. A few seconds later Joe came padding back in. (Man - those long, slim, brown-haired legs of his really juiced me up.) 'OK, guys, this is the deal: we get to stay if Ali out there gets to have a bit of fun. What do you say? He doesn't care which one of us it is.' He slumped back on his bunk again, cool as a cucumber. He scratched at his nuts and lit a cigarette. 'Does "a bit of fun" mean what I think it means?' Joe grinned. 'I'd say so.' Shit! So one of us was going to get fucked, there was no way out, and by the look of this Ali guy, it would be a pretty brutal fucking. 'Big boy, is he?' 'Horse-hung, mate. Balls like fucking lemons. On the other hand, he's not what you'd call a stayer - know what I mean? A couple of minutes of hard drilling and he's gushing like a geyser.' So ... this slim, muscled English backpacker with long, hairy legs smiling at me from the bunk opposite took cock up his arse, then, when push came to shove. Interesting. If I could just get my face into his crack, I knew I could open him up and do him nicely. He'd be yelping for more. So who was it going to be tonight? I could hardly hand this Ali bruiser my kid brother on a plate - what I did with him in an emergency was one thing, I was his big brother, I knew how to bang the cum out of him and keep a smile on his face, but handing him over to be raped by that stubbly-chinned fucker was quite another. And Joe obviously wasn't putting his hand up for a repeat performance. (A pity - I'd have liked to watch him getting his brains fucked out.) So that kind of left ... me. I felt my ring clench in anticipation. All I said as I walked out the door was: 'You're going to pay for this, Nick, big time.' I opened the door to Ali's office. He was lying back against the cushions on a divan, talking into a mobile phone. He kept talking, beckoning me to come over. If he was disappointed to see me rather than Nick or Joe - after all, I'm nearly thirty, not Brad Pitt, sinewy but a bit of a beanstalk, with a shaved head - he didn't show it. Still talking, he spread his legs wider, unzipped his fly and gestured to me to get down on the floor between his legs. May as well get this over with, I thought, and reached into his jeans to pull out his pole. Fuck me! It was standing up like a poker, long and thick and bone-hard - fuck-ready, in other words. I started nibbling first at the trimmed black curls round the base, then lapped at his hairy balls while jacking on his rearing cock. 'Suck it,' he whispered, breaking off his conversation for a moment, 'come on, take it right down your throat ... all of it, right down to the balls.' He was lifting his hips off the divan, ramming his fuck-pole into my mouth, making me gag. Well, if I'm going to get fucked, I like it to be rough and dirty. I'd rather be the one ripping into male arse, not the one getting split open, but if I'm going to get fucked, I like the guy to slam-fuck my brains out. I want him to fucking rape the ball-juice out of me. Ali looked like the guy for the job. I was just starting to get into it, diving in behind his heavy balls into his moist crack, heading for his hole, when he sat up straight, slid his cock into my mouth again, burying my face in his bristly crotch, and reached down into my shorts, feeling for my hole. He dug a finger straight in, scratching round for my fuck-me button. His crotch had the ripe smell of a young male animal ready to rut. I was about to cop it - and hard. He yanked me to my feet, threw me over the edge of the divan, pulled down my shorts and spat on his cock. 'I'm going to break open your arse. Are you ready?' As if he cared. I just lay there, my hole gaping, ready for the cock-attack. He drove straight in to the hilt, forcing my legs further apart with his strong, hairy thighs. I winced and bit into a cushion, refusing to cry out. He was grunting with pleasure. The waves of pain in my arse turned into a gnawing hunger to be filled with cock. He started jack-hammering me urgently, muttering filth into my ear in Arabic and French, sending bolts of fire up into my gut. Then, collapsing onto my bare back, grinding the trails of coarse hair on his chest and stomach into my skin, he started pumping wad after hot wad of Arab man-milk up inside me. Shuddering and spasming and grunting, he kept driving his gushing cock as deep as he could into my clogged hole. Then he just lay there for a minute on top of me, panting heavily, jabbing at the bruised sides of my chute, before sliding out of me. I turned over on my back. He was standing between my legs, smiling. He looked down at my stiff cock and laughed. 'It looks like you need more cock, my friend.' He reached down and yanked on my nuts. 'You want me to fuck you again?' I jacked my cock for a moment, thinking about it. I do like to get finished off. But I had other plans for the ball-juice churning in those aching nuts of mine. Besides, another severe shagging like that one and I wouldn't be able to walk for a week. 'Maybe tomorrow,' I said. No point in sounding ungrateful. I leant forward and licked his oozing knob to show I meant it, fondling his swinging balls as an extra, pulled up my shorts and headed back to the bunk-room. 'OK,' he called after me, 'tomorrow, then. I'll fuck every last drop out of those balls of yours, I promise.' Back in the boys' bunk-room, Joe was sitting back on his bunk, smoking. Nick was standing by the window. 'Well,' Joe said in that low, creamy voice of his, 'how was it?' I didn't answer. I went straight over to Nick, jammed one arm up behind his back and pushed him over to my bunk. 'What the fuck are you doing, Zac?' 'What do you think, Nick? I'm going to plant my rammer so far up your arse you'll choke on it.' 'What for? What've I done?' He started struggling. 'Joe, get over here, mate, and give us a hand.' Joe looked as if he'd be only too pleased. 'Sock him in the balls, mate, to quieten him down. No, not like that - yank his shorts down and give it to him in the bare balls, mate.' Joe kind of sniggered and pulled Nick's boxers down to his knees. 'Fuck, man,' he grunted, 'he's got a boner. I can't thump him in the balls when he's boned up like that.' 'Sure you can. Come on - sock him in the balls.' Nick started squirming violently. 'Please, guys, not in the balls, please ...' Joe cupped his hand and gave him a whack. Nick gave a yelp and tried to bend forwards, but I had him in a tight grip. 'Harder, come on - mash those balls, man,' I growled. 'It's the only way I'm going to get him nailed.' 'You're really going to fuck your own brother? 'You got a better idea?' I had a better idea, but I knew I'd have to kick off with Nick. Joe swung back and hit him harder this time, squashing his nuts up against the hard muscle heading from his cock to his arsehole. This time Nick sank to his knees. I jerked his torso back, exposing his crotch for a final bollocking. 'One more go - come on, man - boot him in the nuts. Finish him off.' Nick started whimpering and pleading, but Joe seemed to be getting off on it now. He jammed his bare foot up against Nick's tightening balls, drew back and then gave them a sharp kick. I let Nick go. He fell humped over, clutching at his crotch. 'That's nothing to what I just copped from Ali,' I snarled down at him, 'he skewered me, he fucking bayoneted me up the arse, and all because of you. And now it's your turn.' I knelt down behind his hunched figure and fingered his crack. Through the tangled hairs I found his hole - it was wet and open. I pushed him forward so his crack would stick up in the air. 'You're going to fuck him NOW?' Joe couldn't believe it. 'Sure, otherwise he'll put up a fight.' Nick always put up a fight. In fact, the only time I could remember him not fighting for his arse was a few months before when he'd got his tattoo. It was a triangular indigo swirl in the small of his back, just above his crack. When he got home from the tattoo artist's, I wanted to see it, so he turned round, dropped his jeans and let me have a look. I have to admit it was fucking sexy. I dropped down onto my knees to get a better look. That's when I caught a whiff of fresh jizz. I pried his arse cheeks apart and took a look. 'Shit, man - you've got fucking cum dribbling out of your hole. Did the tattoo guy dump a load up your arse? Fuck, you're a slut.' The smell of hot, ripe, young arse was making me woozy. I had to get my face in there, into the sticky, furry warmth. I lapped at his hairy hole, tongued his pouting ring, licked his inner thighs right up to crack and then slurped again on his boy-cunt. He was backing onto my tongue, aching to be split open by cock, panting for it. So I stood up, unzipped and slid my pole straight in. 'Harder, fuck me harder, Zac,' he moaned. So I slam-fucked him until my knob was burning and I had to blast. After I'd emptied my balls into him, he started bucking like crazy, yanking on his cock, and then he gushed - wads of the stuff flew everywhere, the carpet was a mess. I got quite a kick out of looking at him lying there in those pools of spooge: my little brother, pumped full of my ball-juice, shagged stupid. But that's the only time he ever gave up his hole without a tussle. 'OK, let's get him fucked. You want to go first, Joe?' 'Fuck, man, I don't know about this ...' But he was already groping at his thickening cock through his shorts. Enough polite chit-chat. Kneeling behind him, I jacked my cock into Nick's pouting hole. Joe watched like a hawk as I rammed it in up to my pubes. 'Why don't you feed him your dick, man, while I fuck him?' He'd teased me enough with those glimpses of his bush and his brass-ringed knob - I wanted to see what sprang out of those shorts of his when he was ready for action. It was worth waiting for: long, quite thin, and lethal-looking, rooted in a mass of thick, brown hair. I reached forward and grabbed Nick by the hair, forcing his head up so Joe could slide it down his throat. Just the way I liked it: while I ploughed Nick's arse, banging the shit out of him, his face was buried in a mate's hairy crotch, priming his tool for the next fuck. Joe flashed me a grin: he was getting into it. Soon we were both punch-fucking Nick, who was gagging and whining but, speared at both ends, unable to move. 'Yeah, suck Joe's cock, Nick,' I growled at him, 'take it right down to the balls. Good boy ... that's it. Now eat his balls for him. Yeah ... chew on those hangers, Nick, get 'em churning. You like Joe's hairy balls, Nick? Well, they're going to be slapping against your arse any minute now, just as soon as I ... AW! FUCK! YEAH! Man, I'm going to fill your fucking hole ... here it comes, man ... AH! AH! AH!' My jizz shot up into his raw chute in rapid bursts, flooding his bunghole with hot white goo. Joe grinned at me again. 'I've got to have me some of that arse, Zac - I've just got to have it. Can he take it?' 'He'll take it alright, mate - be my guest.' I pulled out, cum dripping out of his hole down his inner thighs, and flipped him on his back. He was so fucked he couldn't speak. 'I'll sit on his face, mate, and pull his legs back for you. Go for it, mate. Plug the bastard.' With my hair-clogged arsehole sitting nicely on Nick's mouth, I pulled his slim legs back hard so his fuckhhole was pointing up, open, wet and waiting, while Joe knelt in position, aiming his sharp-ended cockhead at its helpless target. 'Fuck him, Joe - come on, shove it into him, scrape that ring up his chute ...' As Joe sliced into him, he began chewing on my sloppy hole, tonguing the raw skin inside the ring. Instantly I felt my cock start to stiffen again, hungry for more arse. For all his nice manners, lazy smile and sleek looks, Joe wasted no time in setting about power-ramming my brother's cum-soaked arse. He was fucking hammering it in seconds. I was mezmerized. That long, slim cock of his was knifing in and out of Nick's hole more savagely than Ali's up mine, and the harder he banged his straggly-haired crotch against him, the more greedily Nick tried to break into my hole with his tongue. My cock was already so stiff again it hurt. When he began emptying his balls into him, Joe went crazy, spasming uncontrollably, jerking, bucking, grunting, swearing and burying his cock as deep as he could in Nick's ravaged arse. Sweat was pouring down his straining chest into his pubes. He seemed so burnt out by the time he finished that he almost forgot to pull out. 'Nice one,' I said, easing my fork off Nick's face. 'So hot I'm ready to go again.' Joe just lay back, panting. 'You're the only one of us who hasn't been fucked tonight, Joe ... want to even up the score?' Joe sat up and stretched. 'Not tonight, guys. I need a break. I'm shagged out. Maybe tomorrow.' My diary for the next night was filling up fast. I thought of mouth-fucking Nick while he lay there - I needed to get off one more time - but in the end we all went to bed and I just jacked off and went to sleep. In the morning Joe had gone out sightseeing by the time we got up, and when we got back in the evening ... he'd already packed up and moved on. Win some, lose some. If we met up again somewhere along the line, though, he'd pay for his rudeness. No kid gloves next time. Nick was feeling restless and up for a bit of action again by this time, and we were just wondering how to spend the evening, when I heard a stone smack against the shutters. Throwing them open, I looked out into the twilit street. Two faces were grinning up at me. It was the long-legged, spiky-haired tomcat and his frisky sidekick. 'Bonsoir, mon ami! Remember us?' The tall one came up to the window and whispered: 'I fuck you good. Ali says you like it very much. And then ...' 'Look, I'm not sure ...' 'Yes, we come to your room. Ali says it's OK. And my friend here likes cock very much.' Yes, and I bet he copped quite a lot of it last night, too. What was I to do?If you enjoyed this story, let me know what you liked about itzaccooee@yahoo.com.au