Date: Sat, 14 Dec 2002 23:22:12 -0700 From: Dream Spinner Subject: "Eid al-Fitr" (t/t) Caution/Welcome. This is a story involving four brothers, one thirteen-year-old, one fifteen-year- old, and two recently turned seventeen-year-old twins, who show three classmates that not every American is against those of Arab descent or the Moslem faith, and at the same time learn a bit about Ramadan and the Feast of Fast-breaking and their Moslem classmates. This story is posted at free gay adult story sites for adult entertainment only. Permission is not given to copy electronically nor in any other form for the purpose of redistribution or posting at sites other than those described here. This is the forty-third story in the Brewster boys special events and myths series. The Brewster brothers would like to remind everyone that viruses don't practice racial discrimination, so be sure to use a condom for those interracial relations. Praise, pictures of hot young Arab boys, comments from our gay Moslem friends, and story ideas for 2003 can be sent to the author, J.O. Dickingson at authorsix@hotmail.com THE BREWSTERS CELEBRATE EID AL-FITR "Alicia wants you to stop hanging around and bothering her." "Bothering her? All I've been doing is talking to her," Ismet protested. "She just don't want you pestering her anymore, get it?" Patrick Connors replied, speaking more forcefully as he glared menacingly at the fifteen-year-old Arab boy. "Who are you to tell me what to do? You're not her boyfriend," responded Ismet, his quick temper flaring. "Nor are you." "And you never will be. Stick to your own kind," added Jason Smyth-Jones in a tone that was more of a warning than advice. "My own kind?" "You know, your own colour." "And religion," added Danny Maartens. "So you're telling me Alicia doesn't want me talking to her anymore." "Yeah." "I don't believe that." "You saying Alicia is lying to me?" "I don't believe she'd tell you that. If she felt that way she'd tell me herself." "So you saying I'm lying." "Yeah." "Oh yeah? Dare ya to step outside and say that," Patrick Connors said defiantly, placing his hands on his hips as he glared at his classmate. Although only an inch taller than the boy and no more than ten pounds heavier, he was raw boned and clearly the stronger. "Any time big mouth," Ismet responded, unafraid of the bully. He knew a bit about fighting. "I'd be careful Patrick. His type fights dirty," warned Danny. "Yeah, you better be scared of my type, Patrick," Ismet shot back as Jason nudged Danny Maartens and they looked up the hallway. The group suddenly took on a different tone. "What's going on?" Imran asked as he, Benny and the twins joined the group. "Just remember, stay away from her," warned Patrick as he stepped back, not wanting to get into any arguments with the twins. What they'd done to Ron Danson the previous Friday was fresh in everyone's mind. "Let's get out of here." "Ismet?" "These guys hassling you?" asked Benny. "Nothings going on, okay? Just drop it," Ismet snapped. He didn't need anyone else to fight his battles, especially his older brother and a pair of faggot twins. Brent and Brett glanced at each other. This was one angry dude. "We're going down to the mall after school. You guys wanna come?" Brent asked the two Arab brothers. "We can't." "We have to go straight home." "Hey, if you're worried about ." "I'm not worried about fuck all, get it?" snapped Ismet. "We just don't have time for fun and games, okay? Not like you infidels!" Pushing Brent aside, he stormed down the hallway. Imran shrugged and made a face of apology before turning and running to catch up to his brother. Shrugging also, the Brewster brothers headed down to the mall to hang out a bit before heading home. It was a Friday, and a lot of students went to the Astro Arcade or to the food court or Ropp's Music Centre to hang out. What the twins had made Ron Danson do the previous Friday was still a popular topic for the after school crowd even though a week had gone by. Ron, needless to say, had been making himself scarce since then, not that they'd seen the last of him. They knew Ron better than that, and knew that he was busy plotting a revenge. His type simply got worse when someone got the better of them, and he had been humiliated big time. There were many who were amazed the twins had taken a chance standing up to him in the first place, and then doing what they'd done to him as a consequence, but everyone understood why. There was only so far that a guy could be pushed. Equalling the gossip about Ron Danson was the gossip about Billy Graham and Troy Kholler. There still were their loyal friends and followers who claimed that the tape had to have been faked, and that there was no way the two were gay lovers. With today's technology that was not an unreasonable conclusion, and of course they were at least partially correct. Those were in the minority in the male population however. The evidence of the two weeks prior to the release of the tape was just too strong for there not to be some truth about the relationship between the two boys. Word had not yet spread throughout the female population, but once it did it would spread like wildfire. Troy and Billy were the types of boys girls dreamed about and were the objects of their deepest and most secret desires shared only with their diaries and best bosom friends. Everyone did notice that the two boys were not hanging out with their usual female worshippers in their usual territory at school or in the mall this past week, but nor had they been seen hanging onto each other's words as they had been the two weeks previous. Of course what nobody knew was that just the thought of hanging around with the girls they'd been hanging with had suddenly become repugnant, and any thoughts of making out with them actually turned their stomachs, much to the bewilderment and dismay of the two tortured boys. Although much more prevalent at the elementary and junior high schools, word was getting around about Scott Hurd and the retaliation against his bullying last Friday also. There had to be some truth to it as he hadn't approached the elementary school all week. It seemed like last Friday was not a good day for bullies of all ages and sizes. It wasn't internationally either, with UN inspectors setting up offices in Baghdad and starting their search for weapons. Iraqi President Saddam Hussein was especially not pleased with the surprise visit to one of his palaces. Of course that just increased the tension between himself and the western nations, and the United States in particular, which just served to increase tensions across the country, including Crestview Heights. "So, did you have a nice prayer?" asked Danny Maartens as Imran and his brothers and friends returned from praying outside in a paved alcove behind the school at noon the next Monday. Someone had complained that the school was allowing the students one of the rooms for their noon prayer and had warned if the school continued they'd be demanding the school play the Lord's Prayer over the intercom in the mornings, and bring in evangelical speakers to speak to the Christian students at noon, among other things. The school had opted to take the easy way out and to discontinue offering the classroom to the Moslem students. There were few in the school, students and staff, who did not suspect the complaint had come from their illustrious mayor himself, Anthony Maartens. Who else would have the clout to threaten the school principal and the school board? "Anytime one prays to Allah is nice," retorted Ismet, unable to resist rising to the bait. "Oh yeah, well for your information, there is only one God, and that is The God, not Allah." "Shows how much you know, your God and Allah are the one and the same, the one and only true God. The difference is in which Prophet we follow, not which God we believe in." "The same God?" snorted Danny. "No way!" "Go look it up," one of the Muslim students challenged. "And if the language is too difficult, have someone read it to you," added another. "Yeah, well, when you're out there praying, I'd make sure no Brewsters are around," observed Conrad Blackwell. "What do you mean?" Imran immediately challenged, coming to the defence of the brothers. "Well, with your asses up in the air like that when you pray, and them being faggots, you figure it out," observed Conrad, to the laughter of his followers. "Course that's nothing new to you A-rabs, is it?" asked Jason Smyth-Jones. "Meaning?" "My father says back in the seventeenth century homosexuality was known as the Persian vice, or the Turkish Vice, it was so common there." "Explains the position you take when you pray," observed someone quietly, knowing it would raise the ire of every Moslem there. "Hey, you know what determines if a camel has one hump or two?" asked Reno Matteotti. "No, what?" asked Jason, "How horny his Arab rider is," Reno responded, repeating a joke he'd heard his father telling. The resulting fight ended up with the entire group, Arab and non-Arab, being sent to the principal's office, but with nobody squealing, there was little that the principal could do other than to give them a reprimand and a warning. He stopped short of notifying their parents, knowing to do so would only exacerbate the situation and turn both groups against him. He was having enough problems dealing with the tensions in the school without encouraging more. Tuesday saw a teacher in each of the hallways at noon. That much he could do. "You know, we just want to let you know we think it sucks you not being allowed to have a room for your prayers," observed Brent as the group of Moslem students returned to the school after their noon prayer. "Yeah, our mom is going to raise it at the next PTA meeting," added Brett. "I bet she'll have the school reinstate the practice." Brenda serving her second year as the PTA Chairwoman, there was no doubt about that in the minds of her boys or her husband. Their biggest worry was that she might start up a fundraiser, and of course rope them into helping, to build a mosque attached to the school or some such thing. "Yeah, our mom says it really sucks the way you're being treated." "Except she didn't actually say sucks," added Benny. "And why do you care? Or your mother?" asked one of the students bitterly. "Because it ain't right. Mom's always finding causes and fixing things that aren't right." "Well, we're no cause, and we don't need fixing, so you can tell her to forget it," advised Ismet angrily. The Brewster brothers glanced at each other. It seemed like no matter what they said or how hard they tried to be understanding, Ismet found something wrong with it. "You haven't been in the cafeteria for a long time," observed Brent, addressing Imran in an attempt to change the conversation. "Yeah. You getting harassed there or something?" asked Brett. "No, it has nothing to do with being harassed. It is because this is the month of Ramadan." "The month of Ramadan?" "It is a holy month for us, the most holy. You have not seen us in the cafeteria because it is marked by fasting. We do not eat nor drink from sunrise to sunset during Ramadan." "For the whole month?" "Yes." "Food and drink are not the only things prohibited during our fast," observed Ismet with a hint of smugness and superiority in his voice. "We also forgo any physical pleasures, of any kind. And evil thoughts, lying, and lustful looks. Anything that is bad or brings pleasure." "That must be really difficult not having evil thoughts considering how others are treating you right now." "Fasting during Ramadan is meant to teach us discipline, self-restraint, and generosity. By fasting we exercise control over desires and enhance our communication with God," said Imran. "That's gotta be hard, especially for a whole month," observed Benny. "It is," agreed Ismet, "but for the faithful it is a joy, not a burden to express our belief in the Holy Qur'an. But why would you care?" "We do," observed Brent. "Bull shit you do. You just want Imran." "Want Imran?" "Ismet," Imran warned. "Com'on, I've seen how you look at him. That's the only reason you are being so buddy buddy and friendly. You want his ass. I can see it in your eyes, and your brother's eyes." "Ismet!" "It's true," the fifteen-year-old said, looking at his older brother defiantly. "You think for one moment they don't believe that story about homosexuality being the Persian vice?" he snorted. "Ismet, that is enough. You owe Brent and his brothers an apology." "Why else would they be so interested?" Ismet argued. "I know their type." "Are you forgetting, I'm their type too?" Imran snapped back. The group of boys, Moslem and non-Moslem, stood there awkwardly for a moment before Ismet turned on his heels and went storming off. With his usual shrug of apology and flushing with embarrassment as he realized what he'd just said, Imran turned and hurried after his brother. Nobody said anything, but they were all thinking the same thing as they headed off to classes. Although it was on their minds, the Brewster brothers did not discuss it that evening. Wednesday morning Ismet, Imran and their youngest brother Abdul were waiting for the Brewsters in the parking lot. "Ismet has something to say to you," Imran announced as they approached the twins and their brothers. Ismet glanced at the pavement, shuffled his feet, and finally looked up at the twins. "I wish to apologize," he said softly. "For?" prompted Imran, seeing the twins were about to accept the apology. "For suspecting your motives. For slapping away your hand when you were only offering it in friendship and help. For judging your sexual orientation," he concluded, saying the last quietly and with less sincerity than the other statements. He looked up at Brent, and then slowly turned to look at Brett and finally Benny and Bobby. They could tell from the look in his eyes he was not totally penitent, especially with the last statement, but he was trying. "Hey, that's all right. You've been under a lot of stress." "Yeah, we understand. No offense taken." "Our father would like to speak to your father about inviting you to our home on Friday," announced Imran. "He would?" Brett asked in surprise. "If you would be so kind as to accept our invitation to supper," we would be grateful, Imran continued, glancing over at his younger brother. "Yes," Ismet agreed. "In this small way I beg Allah forgiveness for my sharp tongue." "Supper? I thought you were fasting." "Friday is Eid al-Fitr, the Feast of Fast-breaking." "It is the end of Ramadan. December 6 is the first day of the month Shawwal." "It is a very important holiday for us. We will not be in school on that day, because for all Moslems it is a holiday, at least those who follow the faith, but we would like you to spend the evening meal with us, and the evening if you would like, and your father would allow. You and your two brothers." Imran turned and looked at Bobby. "Your youngest brother has been most kind to our youngest brother, Abdul, showing him support as you have shown us," he observed. The brothers knew Bobby had stuck up for Abdul, the topic having come up several times over the past month as they'd talked about the conflict between America and the Arab world, and the conflict there in their community. They had just assumed that had been just the usual type of stuff involved with bullying though, not something racially motivated, especially since the names of Jung, Chucky, and Scott Hurd had come up just as frequently. "Father says you may even have a sleep over if you would like," Imran continued, a hint of hope in his voice. The boys looked at each other. "Sure, why not," said Brett, speaking for the four of them. "We'd be delighted to have a sleep over." So, Friday, December 6, the four Brewster brothers found themselves pulling up in front of the Malik residence with their overnight bags. From the outside, their house looked like any other house in the suburbs, but once inside, their Arab ancestry showed in a variety of ways. The colourful Egyptian motif around the top of the living room walls, the clay vases and figurines in the china cabinet and on the shelves that reminded them of the stuff in Egyptian tombs that they'd learned about in school, the thick, ornate carpets on the floor, and the pictures on the walls were the more evident. "This is my mother, and my father," introduced Imran, "and these are the friends we have told you about, Brent, Brett, Benny and Bobby." "Masa'a alkair," greeted Benny, extending his hand and shaking Imran's father's hand. "Well, and good evening to you too," replied Ibrahim Malik, taken by surprise. "Ain ahlamaam?" Benny continued, looking at Ibrahim's wife Azza. "The bathroom is down the hall." "Oh." "Would you like me to show you?" she asked when Benny made no move to head down the hall. "Oh, no, that's okay thanks. I don't need to use it. It's just the only other thing I know how to say in Arabic." Mister and Mrs Malik glanced at each other and smiled. "You're learning Arabic?" Ibrahim asked. "That's the only two things so far," Benny responded. "You've pronounced them very accurately. You must learn languages quickly." "Oh fu-, fu-, fu-, fusure," Bobby responded. "Benny loves learning languages. You should hear some of the words he knows in Scottish, Greek, Mexican. . . ." "Makah," added Brent. "Oh yeah, I forgot Makah. And Yiddish. Say something in Scottish," he suggested, looking at his brother admiringly. "Aggh, Aye dinna think sae, Bobby," he responded, to everyone's amusement. "Benny's multilinquistical," Bobby advised, his eyes twinkling. "You'll have to excuse Bobby," Benny apologized. "He gets carried away." Bobby's three brothers looked at each other. They could not resist. "Actually, we wish someone would carry him away," they chorused. Mister and Mrs Malik glanced at each other and smiled. They knew about such banter between brothers having three sons themselves, though lately there had not been much laughter in their household. It felt good to hear it again. "Well, knowing another language is a valuable skill," Mrs Malik said, looking over at her three sons meaningfully. On more than one occasion they'd questioned the need to learn Arabic. "But now you boys go wash up and I'll see to supper." With the fragrant and enticing aromas coming from the kitchen, the seven teenagers did not need to be told a second time. "May Allah bless this food, and our company this night," Ibrahim prayed as they gathered about the dining room table. "Subhana Rabbiy-al-A'ala," he pronounced, and the phrase was repeated by his wife and sons. "That means in English, Glory to my Lord, the Most High," he explained. "Now, have some tamiya," he urged, breaking off a piece of homemade bread and dipping it into a large plate of a reddish-brown paste placed in the middle of the table and within everyone's reach. Bobby, true to his nature, broke off a piece of his bread and dipping it into the mashed and deep-fried fava beans, scooped up a generous amount and popped it into his mouth. The tangy beans, seasoned with garlic, onions, coriander, parsley and cayenne, were not as hot as some of the new foods he'd sampled, and seeing his reaction, his brothers dug in also. The tamiya was followed by a broad bean salad Mrs Malik called fool midammis. The broad beans were mashed along with red lentils, olive oil and lemon juice and topped with black olives, and again were eaten by scooping up the paste with the arab bread. "Hey, this is sortta like the food we ate when we were in Sod ah, I mean, you know, the food we read about in, ah, the Middle East," stumbled Bobby. "Yes, it does," Brett agreed quickly. How they'd spent time in Sodom would be difficult to explain. "So, do you know much about the Feast of Fast-breaking?" asked Ibrahim as he began filling soup bowls from an ornate, heated tureen with a matching blue and white floral pattern as the bowls and passing them to his guests and sons. "A little," observed Brent as he cautiously sampled the milookhiyya, a soup he learned was made of a finely chopped green herb like spinach and chicken stock with a little cumin and a lot of garlic. "We know it marks the end of Ramadan, which is a month of fasting. Imran and Ismet told us about Ramadan," added, glancing at the two brothers. "Yes, it is," Ibrahim said, pleased his sons had been sharing their culture and customs. "It is a very special day for us, not unlike your Thanksgiving. We begin the day with prayers at the mosque and then a sermon. The services are followed by greetings where we exchange blessings and prayers with the community. The rest of the day is spent exchanging visits with our family and friends. It is customary to greet each other by saying 'Eid mubarak' which means 'blessed Eid', and 'taqabbalallah ta'atakum' which means 'may God accept your deeds'. It is a time for strengthening the bonds of brotherhood in our community." "It is also a time to be spent with our children," added his wife. "And to give them gifts and new clothes." "Cool," observed Bobby, trying his best not to slurp his soup after having been nudged by Brett. "On this day we show our joy for the health and opportunities of life Allah gave us to fulfill our obligation of fasting and other good deeds during the blessed month of Ramadan," explained Ismet solemnly. "This is a time to gather and to remember and honour God." Clearing away the soup bowls, Mrs Malik brought out the main course and as they ate, the family explained more about Ramadan and their culture, and their ancestry. The boys learned that Imran and Ismet were born in Seattle, and Abdul in San Francisco where they'd lived up until moving to Crescent Heights a year and a half ago, and that their parents and grandparents were also born in the United States. It was their great-grandparents who had immigrated from Egypt. "I'd love to visit Egypt some time," observed Bobby, his mouth stuffed. He wasn't sure what all he was eating, but it tasted great. "Yeah, me too," agreed Brent, sharing his brother's love of history. "Have more rice," Mrs Malik offered, handing Brent the bowl of steamed rice. "And more mehshi," she added, referring to the plate of zucchini and eggplant stuffed with rice-dill and rice-lamb mixtures. "Thanks, it's delicious," he said, accepting the offer. "It is especially delicious after fasting for a month," observed Abdul as he filled his plate again. "I can't imagine going without food or even water from sunup to sundown for thirty days," observed Brett, who, like his brothers, had difficulty going from one meal to the next without snacking. "And to eat so little other times after going with no food all day," added Brent, Ibrahim having explained that they got up before sunrise to have an egg and slice of toast, and that after sunset they would eat something simple, like a small bowl of rice or a boiled wheat dish similar to porridge, which was typical of families who practised fasting as strictly as they could and yet kept up their energy to perform their jobs. "Oh yeah. If I had nothing to eat all day, I could eat three or four of these little chickens each night," Bobby observed as he struggled to cut the meat off the thigh and wishing he could just pick it up with his fingers and chew on it. "Actually," observed Mister Malik, "hamam mahshi is not chicken. It is braised pigeon." The Brewster brothers stopped with forks in midair, looked at him with surprise, and then at the half-eaten birds on their plates. They were not sure at first if he was joking or not, and then if they should be sick as they thought of the pigeons down in the park in front of the town hall. "We buy them at a shop on the other side of town that specializes in Arabic foodstuffs." "They are one of my favourite meals, and Mother makes the best fireek," observed Imran, referring to the crushed wheat and mint stuffing. The boys had to agree the pigeon, and the rest of the food, was delicious, and with their ravishing teenage appetites and resiliency, they soon forgot their surprise they were eating pigeons. For desert they had basboosa, a sweet, delicately browned semolina cake soaked with lemon syrup and decorated with halved almonds. Thanking their hosts for the meal, the boys' offer to help clear the table and do the dishes was politely refused with the observation that was not the work for boys, and they were told to go and visit. Each of the boys had their own bedroom, and they took turns showing their guests their rooms and some of their favourite possessions, the three brothers having some interests in common and others that were uniquely their own, just as the Brewster boys. They ended up in Imran's bedroom, Imran being the oldest and having the largest room of the three. "So what did you call this day again?" asked Benny. "The Feast of Fast-breaking," replied Ismet, "Eid al-Fitr." "I still don't understand this fasting bit," observed Bobby. "I mean, what is the purpose of not eating or drinking from sunrise to sunset?" "It is to show we have discipline," explained Abdul. "And it is not just abstaining from eating and drinking. It is abstaining from all sinful things. Fasting strengthens our will power to resist sin for the rest of the year. It is obligatory for all who have reached the age of Sin al- bulugh." "Sin al what?" "Sin al-bulugh," repeated Abdul. "It is the age of maturity, the age where one is considered an adult and becomes accountable for his or her duties in Islam. There is no fixed age for that. For girls it is when they have their period or get pregnant," he explained with a sly grin. "For boys it is when they become physically mature, you know, when they have a wet dream, or start to grow pubic hair, or reach the age of fifteen, whichever comes first." Bobby knew Abdul wasn't fifteen, and he wondered if he'd experienced either of the other two. He also wondered what a Moslem boy did when that happened. Like, if a boy had a wet dream, he wouldn't go running into the kitchen the next morning and announce that he had reached the age of Sin al-bulugh. Mind you, if he ever had a wet dream, he just could make such an announcement. On the other hand, that a guy could be fifteen and not have had a wet dream or hairs was not something he'd considered possible, and was something he didn't want to consider! "Ramadan is a time of renewal and spiritual rebirth," explained Ismet. "Sort of like your Easter I guess. It is one of the five pillars of our faith." "What are the others?" "The others are the declaration of faith and belief in the unity of God, saying daily prayers, giving charity to the poor, and making a pilgrimage to Mecca once in one's life, if one can." "You pray a lot." "The Holy Qur'an tells us we are to pray five times, at dawn, noon, midafternoon, sunset and after dark In addition, we say the Taraweeh, or Night Prayer, during Ramadan. Of course there are those who practice their faith very closely, and others who do not practice it at all, just as you Christians." "Same for the Feast of Fast-breaking. In Moslem countries Eid al-Fitr is a national holiday with carnivals and fairs, and it is celebrated for three days. For some living in the western world it is not celebrated at all." A knock at the open door interrupted the boys. "Your father and I are going out to visit Mister and Mrs Husayn. I have brought you some boughasha and I've left you a plate of esh es seraya in the refrigerator for later, and you can help yourselves to some nuts and sodas. We will likely be very late. You behave yourselves while we are gone." The boys assured her that they would, and the Brewsters thanked her again for the meal and hospitality. She replied that she was glad to have such good friends and having them as guests was a small thing compared to the support her sons had said the boys had given them. "Mmmmm, mmmmh," said Abdul as his mother headed back down the hall. "Esh es seraya and boughasha!" "What is that?" asked Bobby. "Esh es seraya means bread of the palace. It is bread which has been soaked in syrup and is eaten topped with thick whipped cream. And that is boughasha," he said, pointing to the cigar- shaped pastries on the dish. "They are filled with chopped walnuts and sugar." "Sounds great," the four Brewster boys chorused, suddenly feeling hungry again despite the meal they'd just eaten. "So, your great-grandparents came from Egypt," observed Brent. "That's cool." "Are you doing ancient Egypt as your history project?" asked Bobby, addressing Abdul. "Yeah. What are you doing?" "Well, I was going to do Greece, but Jung and I are thinking of maybe doing one of the early dynasties in China together." "Both would be interesting. I like to study early cultures." "Me too." "Well, maybe you two can go to Abdul's room and talk about history, and Benny and me can find something to do so Imran can visit with his friends." There was no need for them to visit separately, and from the way Ismet made the comment, the Brewster brothers could tell there was something he was not saying. "That is not necessary," Imran replied, voicing what they were thinking, and the tone of his voice confirming their suspicions that something was going on. "Hey, Mother and Father are gone for the next couple hours, it is Eid al-Fitr, the fast is over, go for it. It's not as if resisting physical pleasure is going to please Allah in your case anyway." "So, you know so much about what pleases Allah? When did you become a mullah?" "One does not need to be a mullah to know what the Holy Qur'an says about homosexuals. Does it not say in Suras 26, 'Do you approach the males of humanity, leaving the wives that Allah has created for you? But you are a people who transgress'? And does it not say in Suras 27, 'Would ye really approach men in your lusts rather than women? Nay, ye are a people ignorant!'? Does not the Prophet Himself not say in the Hadiths, 'Kill the one who sodomizes and the one who lets it be done to him. It is haram.'?" "We have had this argument before. You know the Holy Qur'an also says in suras 52 when one dies 'Round about them will serve, to them, boys as pearls well guarded.' and in Suras 76, 'And round about them will serve boys of perpetual freshness: if thou seest them, thou wouldst think them scattered pearls.'" "Can you deny the Qur'an tells us many times the story of Lot's people and how they were destroyed for their wicked practice of sodomy?" "Ah, well, that's not exactly true," interjected Brent. Ismet and his two brothers looked at him in surprise. "Sodom wasn't exactly destroyed because the men practised homosexuality." "Yeah," agreed Bobby. "That isn't what happened at all." "Oh?" snorted Ismet. "Is that so? Were you there?" "Well, actually," began Bobby. "The Bible tells us about Lot also," interjected Brett. "There are other interpretations about what happened." "That was a long time ago. Who can know for sure what happened?" asked Abdul, trying not to take sides. He had witnessed this argument between his two older brothers many times, but never before guests before, and he was uncomfortable, and not just because of his own feelings on the subject of homosexuality. "Then let's talk about something recent. If it is all right for guys to have sex with each other, why did the Egyptian police arrest all those men on the Queen Boat a year and a half ago?" The mass arrest of fifty-two men accused of being homosexuals May 11 on the Queen Boat, a tourist boat on the Nile docked at Cairo and long known as gathering place of the gay community, had been a major event for those living in Egypt, and for those who were of Egyptian descent living elsewhere. The truth of the rumours of the men and boys, one as young as fifteen, being tortured and forced to confess to being gay had been hotly debated by Moslem and non- Moslem alike. There were some who claimed the men were really political activists and had pointed out that the gay community in Egypt had been discreetly and quietly tolerated for years. Others said the arrests were to distract the public from the economic recession and increase in taxes by the government. That was supported by the accompanying accusation that Satanic worship was also occurring on the boat but which was later withdrawn. The most likely and most widely accepted belief, however, was that the government was desperate to present an image that it was the guardian of public virtue in an attempt to weaken an Islamist opposition movement called the Muslim Brotherhood that was appealing to the more orthodox Muslims, along with the criticism of other Arab states that Egypt was too lenient and too Westernized. "You know my answer, and you know I can't prove it any more than you can prove your answer," replied Imran. "Either way, I don't think our guests are interested in hearing about Egyptian politics." "Well, I don't know about politics, but I know not all Moslems are against homosexuality," observed Benny. "What do you mean?" asked Ismet in surprise. From the look on the faces of his two brothers they were just as surprised as he. "Well, take what the poet Abu Nuwas wrote in the "Perfumed Garden" for example," he said: "O the joy of sodomy! So now be sodomites, you Arabs. Turn not away from it therein is wondrous pleasure. Take some coy lad with kiss-curls twisting on his temple and ride as he stands like some gazelle standing to her mate. And Make for smooth-faced boys and do your very best to mount them, for women are the mounts of the devils." "Wow, who said that?" asked Abdul. "An Arab poet, Abu Nuwas." "How'd you know that?" asked Ismet. "Benny knows lots of stuff when it comes to sex," Bobby answered for him. "He's a sexpert." Ismet looked at Benny, not knowing what to say, and then finally turned to the twins. "So, you two are gay, like everyone says?" he asked. "Ismet! That's personal," objected Imran. "That's okay," Brent replied, "we don't mind. Yeah, we are." "We've come out to our parents and friends," observed Brett, though none of them were sure if their mother had really believed them considering the circumstances in which they'd come out to her. "We just don't make a big deal about it. Being gay is just one part of what we are, like being blond, and liking basketball, and. . . ." "Being cute," added Bobby with a twinkle in his eyes. "And you two?" Ismet asked, looking at Bobby and Benny. "We have sex with guys," Benny said with a shrug. "But we don't have boyfriends or nothing like that." "It's cool having sex with guys," Bobby observed, ready to defend himself and his brothers. "I know," said Abdul. The four Brewsters looked at him in surprise. "I'm gay too." "Maybe I should just leave the six of you then and go off by myself," Ismet observed, knowing there was no point in arguing Abdul was too young to make such an announcement. He had not convinced him in the past, and was not going to convince him this night. "It's much more fun to go off with some else," Bobby responded quickly with a twinkle in his eyes, and Brett, who usually was the one to think quickly on his feet, gave his kid brother an appreciative glance. "That's not what I meant," Ismet responded dryly, not seeing the comment as humorous. "I know," responded Bobby. "But since you asked us something personal," interrupted Benny, "you owe us a question." "Fair's fair," agreed Ismet. "You jack off?" Ismet flushed with embarrassment and debated how he should answer. "Yeah. But I don't think about guys when I do it." "But you like how it feels." "Yeah. Doing it isn't a sin or a crime," he observed, though he did feel guilty about being so weak as to give in to the pleasure of his fist, something he assumed was not typical of other Moslem boys. "Well, we like how it feels too. Only difference between you and us is we like to bring other guys pleasure, and have them bring us pleasure too." "I like to bring other guys pleasure too, and have them bring me pleasure," Ismet objected, "just not in the way you mean it." "Have you ever tried our way?" "No," he responded emphatically. "Ever think about it?" "No," he responded again, though the boys noticed not as quickly nor as firmly. "Why not?" "I'm just not interested in doing something like that," he replied, clearly becoming irritated. "That's cool. But it's no reason to put others down for liking it." "I don't put others down. If that's what my brothers want to do that's up to them." "That's true. Ismet's argued why we shouldn't, you know, do things with other boys, but he's never been insulting about our preference in partners," pointed out Imran, "not like many others at school." "Just because guys have sex together it don't make them gay you know," observed Benny. "Of course it does," snorted Ismet. "That's nonsense." "You like girls?" "Of course." "You ever have sex with one?" "Well, no," he admitted, much more uncomfortable being questioned than he was as the questioner. "But I've kissed and stuff, and like it," he observed, emphasizing the last three words. "Bet I can kiss you and make you get hard," Benny challenged. "No way!" "Wanna bet?" "Yeah, go for it," the boy responded smugly without thinking, his quick temper and confidence overriding caution and reason. Getting up and sitting down beside Ismet, Benny slipped an arm about him and bowing his head, pressed his lips against Ismet's. His lips were smooth and soft, and his breath smelled of garlic and lemon. Benny kissed him half a dozen times, each kiss a bit longer and more forceful. With the seventh, he slipped his tongue inside. From the way Ismet tensed, he could tell he'd had a reaction. He withdrew his tongue and their lips parted, and before Ismet could say anything he kissed the boy again, and again slipped his tongue in his mouth. He ran it over Ismet's hot, wet tongue and then under it. He reached down to see if he was getting a response. "Hey!" said Ismet, pulling away. "You said kissing. I didn't agree to no touching." "I was just checking to see how stiff you were getting." "Then you know you didn't succeed." "Yeah, well I'm not finished yet." "You've had your chance." "We didn't say there was a time limit," Benny objected. "And you are getting stiff." "No way." "Well you will." Ismet hesitated. He knew it would not happen, and it would prove his point. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain. "Go ahead, but no touching." "How are we going to know when you've got a bone on?" "Take it out," suggested Abdul. "Then there'll be no question." "Yeah," agreed Bobby eagerly. Ismet glanced at the two youngest boys and then at the others. Reluctantly pulling down his zipper, he slipped his fingers in the fly of his pants and underwear and pulled out his cock. He was uncut, and if not partially aroused, then certainly well-hung, his brown sausage being close to four inches in length. Benny resumed kissing him, applying now all his skills in earnest, lightly brushing lips in gentle, tender kisses, pressing lips together forcefully and with passion, slipping his tongue in Ismet's mouth, and sucking his tongue into his own. It was the latter that finally started Ismet's dick to resume its growth. He pressed his lips more forcefully against Ismet's and sucked harder, and he basted Ismet's tongue in his own saliva and then sinking in his cheeks, swallowed. Ismet could not help but respond. He'd never been kissed like Benny was kissing him, but he'd had some heavy kissing with girls and he knew that what Benny was trying to do to him was exactly what he'd tried to do with his dates, get them hot. Knowing that was why he was being kissed had caused his dick to begin swelling in the first place, and once Benny started to deep kiss him he had to admit it was erotic even if it was with another guy. Having Benny suck his tongue in his own mouth was the final barrier. In a way he was penetrating the hot, hazel-eyed brunette. He was sticking a part of his body in him, and even if it was his tongue and not his penis, it was like having sex. Of course he tried to ignore that thought and what was happening, and then to actively fight it as he felt his dick swelling faster and faster. The more he tried to fight the growth of his cock the more aware he became of it, and he was unable to ignore the fact that his two brothers and Benny's three brothers were all there seeing his cock was getting hard. That, besides the fact he was a healthy normal teenager with functioning hormones, and had just gone an entire month of abstinence, not even kissing a girl never mind jerking himself off, which had resulted in some interesting dreams and sticky boxers in the morning, was too much to fight, and once he began to stiffen it did not take long to complete the transformation. "See, a guy can get another guy hard without being gay," Benny said. The tone of his voice was of one making a simple observation not bragging. "I've obviously made you feel good, and I did it in a sexual way." He looked down at the boy's stiff cock protruding out of his pants. It looked to be well over five inches, almost as large as Benny's, and even in its swollen state, the knob was still fully covered by his skin. "And I you," Ismet observed, nodding to the lump in Benny's jeans. At least he was not alone. "Oh yeah," Benny said. "Getting a guy hard always gets me hard. You gotta admit I made you feel good." Ismet glanced at Benny, and then at the others. "Well?" asked Imran with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Yeah, okay, it felt good. But doing it with a girl would have been faster and better." "I dunno," observed Bobby. "Benny's real skilful with his tongue, and will do things I bet a lot of girls wouldn't. He can drive a guy crazing rimming him." "Rimming?" "Licking his asshole," Bobby explained. "That's gross," Ismet responded, wrinkling up his nose. "Wanna bet?" Bobby asked. Ismet snorted as he looked at the thirteen-year-old, and then at the others. He was no fool. He'd already lost one bet. But there was no way getting your asshole licked was going to feel good. That was totally perverted, and that he was certain of. "Bet he could make you start leaking." "Bobby!" objected Benny. "Well, I bet you could. You're great." His eyes sparkled with admiration and confidence. "You're on," Ismet said, to everyone's surprise. There was no way another boy would be able to do that, and it would prove his point. Having failed the first bet, he did have to prove his point, if not to them, then at least to himself. "Okay," Benny agreed after a second, the pause not being because he was unsure of himself, but because he was considering how he might use the challenge to the benefit of all of them. "But if I do make you leak pre-cum, you gotta let me suck you off, all the way." "Sure," Ismet agreed with a shrug. It was not going to happen, and even it if did, getting sucked off by a fag didn't make the guy getting sucked a fag. Removing his trousers and his boxers so that he was wearing only his new white shirt and his white ankle socks, Ismet lay down on the floor on his back, and raising his legs as instructed, he threw them over his head and bent them so that he was laying on his shoulders and his knees were above his ears, resulting in his asshole being stuck in the air and his stiff dick pointing down at his face. Benny knelt down in front of him, and using his body to help support Ismet's, he leaned forward and stuck out his tongue. Ismet watched in disbelief as his fifteen-year-old school mate lowered his head and ran his hot, wet tongue up along his crack, as if licking the icing from a cake. Despite being the grossest thing anyone had ever done to him or he'd ever considered anyone doing, it was erotic. The boy was licking the crack of his ass, from his tail bone to his balls, and not under duress nor in subjugation, but out of desire. Benny loved rimming more than any other type of foreplay. He loved the smell and the taste of a boy's sweaty crack, delighting in the saltiness and the tang of his butthole, delighting in the smoothness and firmness of a boy's buns. Most of all he enjoyed the eroticism and the connotations associated with what he was doing. There was nothing more perverse than the thought of someone licking someone's ass crack and someone worming his tongue up someone's asshole. Telling someone to kiss your ass or to lick it was the filthiest perversion one boy could suggest to another, and yet it was the most delightful experience to have a hot, wet, tongue lapping at your hole, and for him, to worm his tongue against that sensitive and underappreciated erotic zone. Teenage boys were particularly conscious of their hygiene, and that included keeping their anus thoroughly clean. A guy's asshole was no dirtier than a woman's teat, and nobody found the idea of a guy sucking a girl's tit revolting. In fact being enclosed and protected by two layers of clothing, a guy's trousers and his underwear, his ass was probably cleaner, and certainly being kept warm by his underwear left it with an erotic and distinct boy aroma. Benny's delight was obvious to Ismet as he watched the teenage boy lapping at his hole and trying to stick his tongue up his anus, trying to penetrate his rectum just as earlier he'd penetrated his mouth with that organ. That thought caused his cock to jerk with excitement, something that his kid brother Abdul was quick to notice and point out. Abdul's comment brought to home the fact that he was laying on the floor clothed only in his shirt and socks, his naked ass and his privates exposed to everyone else in the room. He was the only one so exposed, all the rest still having their clothes on which added to the eroticism of what was happening. He and Benny were engaging in sex in front of his two brothers and in front of Benny's brothers. His cock jerked again, and the thought that he was performing an act of sex in front of his brothers and newly formed friends caused a lust to begin swirling deep in the pit of his loins. Benny and his brothers were friends. Actually, they were one of the few non-Arab friends that they had. Oh, they had many white acquaintances and a number of black also, but few of them were more than classmates or casual friends, compared to those whom they hung with after school or on weekends, who tended to be fellow Egyptians first, and fellow Arabs and Moslems second. Yes, they'd had a few non-Arab friends in their home, to work on homework assignments, or dropping in before heading out to a basketball game or the mall or something, but the Brewsters were the first to have supper and to spend the night since they had moved to Crestview Heights. Now one of them was hotly and eagerly licking his asshole, worming his hot, firm tongue in his anus, pressing his lips against it and sucking on it. Someone who did that was more than a casual friend! Ismet squirmed. Benny was actually sucking on his asshole, his hazel eyes sparkling behind his lowered lids and long fluttering lashes as if he was sucking on an orange or a melon. Just as minutes ago they'd been sucking face, now Benny was sucking ass, his ass. A tiny droplet of pre-cum oozed out of the tip of his uncut cock wagging above his head. Never had anything this erotic ever happened to him. That meant Benny would be sucking him off. He'd be getting a blow job, his first blow job, that night. More pre-cum oozed out of his cock with that thought. Any second now there would be enough that it would drip off the tip of his stiff sausage, drip down in his face. Oh Allah, that would be erotic, dripping his pre-cum in his face as his schoolmate sucked on his hole, and with his brother's and Benny's brothers watching! The droplet clinging to the tip of his cock began to grow. Benny, and the others, had noticed of course, and as the clear pre-fuck began to drip from the tip of Ismet's cock Benny quickly slipped around to the side of the inverted boy and caught his fresh, sweet nectar on the tip of his tongue. Seeing his pendant of boy juice being caught by Benny's extended tongue caused another globule to form at the tip of his cock and to ooze down the pendant like a pearly bead slipping down a silver thread. It was too much. He felt his lust building in his loins, a lust that until that moment had been reserved for thoughts of tit he'd groped on the date he'd just returned home from, or thoughts late at night as he slowly jerked off to thoughts of what it would be like to fuck one of his classmates, or some hot playgirl whose picture he'd found on the Internet. Benny eased Ismet back down onto his back and at the same time pushed down his jeans and underwear and slipped them off, it all being so smooth and so natural that he'd done it without pause and without drawing any attention to what he was doing. He now straddled the prostrate boy, laying in the opposite direction on his knees and elbows with his forearms extended along his hips and his calves along his head, clad like Ismet, only in his black socks and deep blue shirt. He ran his tongue around the skin-encased knob of the fifteen-year-old Arab boy, his smooth, slender cock the same sexy brown colour as the rest of his body, his nuts a slightly darker blackish-brown and swollen and wrinkled like a washboard in their arousal. Puckering his soft, moist lips and opening them to form an "O", he slipped them over the head of the delightful brown sausage and eased them down over the slight bulb of his knob and down his smooth shaft, down his five-and-a-half inches to the base of his organ and his thick, curly black hairs. Benny inhaled deeply and his stiff cock twitched with the unique fragrance of the Arab boy's balls, his genital sweat a combination of his spicy, garlic accented diet and his hormone- driven masculinity. It was an aphrodisiac to the already horny, lust driven teenage boy, driven to new heights of arousal from having rimmed his first Arab boy, and now sucking his first Arabian cock. The taste of Ismet's brown boyhood and the spicy aroma of his balls caused a droplet of pre-cum to form at the exposed opening of Benny's own stiff cock, his foreskin having eased back off his knob to form a collar below the flange. He pressed his lips together and slowly eased his lips up the smooth, slender sausage of the deeply breathing Arab boy, and another droplet joined the first to form a tiny pearl of pre-cum at the tip of his five-and-three-quarter inch cock. Ismet of course saw the developing pearl, and thought of his own droplet of pre-cum and how Benny had eagerly, almost hungrily, caught it on his tongue. Just the thought of that caused the lust in his loins to double. He knew how Benny was feeling, and he knew that the droplet of pre-cum would continue to develop until it fell under its own weight. The boy's cock, slightly larger than his own and a pale pink like the rest of his body in comparison to his own skin, was directly above his eyes, and the droplet, when it did fall, would strike his face. He wondered what a boy's pre-cum would taste like, if it would be like glue considering how sticky it was, or if it would be sweet like the straight porn stories on the net said. Reaching up and placing his hands on Benny's hips, he pulled him down toward him and forward, directing his stiff cock until it was above his mouth. He parted his lips and continued to push down. This would be his only opportunity to find out what it tasted like, and just tasting it did not make him a fag. He stuck out his tongue as the boy's swollen mushroom cap approached his lips. His clear juice was sticky, and it did not taste at all how he'd expected, being neither sweet nor like glue, being more like almond than anything else. He inhaled deeply, inhaling Benny's own uniquely scented balls, and the aroma accented the flavour of his sticky droplet of pre-cum. Ismet slipped his lips about the mushroom-shaped cap and sucked gently on the hot, hard cockhead, causing another droplet of the boy's nectar to ooze out. Benny sucked harder on Ismet's cock and would have smiled if he'd been able. He'd assumed the position he'd had on purpose, and as he'd suspected, feeling how it was getting his own cock sucked, Ismet could not resist at least trying Benny's, not with his leaking cock inches above his face. He was, after all, a healthy, horny teenage boy. Abdul and Bobby glanced at each other and grinned. That Benny had seduced Ismet had come as no surprise to Bobby. He'd known if anyone could do it his older brother could, and Benny hadn't disappointed him. Glancing at the two boys sixty-nining on the bedroom floor, he looked Abdul in the eyes and whispered, "you wanna do it?" "You bet," replied Abdul eagerly, his new trousers bulging out. "Let me at el fortass." "You want my ass?" "No, el fortass. The bald one," Abdul replied with a grin. "He's all yours," Bobby replied, pulling down his fly, "as long as I get your el fortass too." Abdul readily pulled down his zipper. The two thirteen-year-olds were eager to satisfy the itch between their legs, their cocks having been stiff and aching before Benny and Ismet had gotten hard. Pushing their trousers and underwear down to their knees, and laying on the floor beside their two brothers on their sides and facing each other, the two boys, having only recently turned thirteen, reached out for each other's cock. The two boys were almost identical in height and weight. Bobby, now four-foot-nine and ninety pounds and his uncut cock four-and-a-half inches long, was only slightly shorter and lighter than Abdul, and his cock was only slightly longer than Abdul's, which was also uncut. There the similarity ended. Bobby was very much a product of his Scottish and English ancestry with his pale skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair, and of his American culture with his gelled and teased irregularly cut hair, as was his older brother with his shaved, darkened sides and copper tint. Abdul Gamal Malik was just as much a product of his Arab ancestry with his thick, coarse black hair, dark irises, thick lips, sharp nose and naturally brown skin, and of his Moslem culture with his traditionally cut and groomed hair, short on the sides and only slightly longer on top in a 1950's style, identical to that of his brothers. The two boys might be of different ancestry, cultures, and religion, and they might have had different childhoods, but they did have some things in common. They were boys, they were newly into their teens and horny, they liked to mess around with other boys, and at the moment they had stiff, aching cocks that needed satisfying. The two boys slipped their fingers about each other's aching organ, Bobby's pink fingers contrasting with Abdul's dark-skinned cock, and Abdul's slender, brown fingers contrasting with Bobby's hot pink organ. The two boys, no strangers to sixty-nining, wiggled closer to each other and slipped their lips over each other's cocklet as they held the perverse popsicles by the base. Bobby noticed that Abdul's pubes were as smooth as his own, which ruled out the second requirement for him to be the age of bulugh. That could only mean one other thing, and while he was disappointed that another boy his own age was able to do what he still was not, he was eager to sample the boy's young, fresh semen. So he eagerly sucked on Abdul's stiff cocklet, and Abdul, to Bobby's delight, just as eagerly sucked on his. Each boy quivered with delight as he sucked the other, quivering with the pleasure of sucking on the smooth fleshy cylinder in his mouth, and at the same time quivering with the pleasure of having his own cock surrounded by a hot, moist, eagerly sucking mouth. At the same time as Bobby and Abdul had begun to push down their trousers, their oldest brothers had glanced at each other, and not having to say a word, the twins reached out and began to strip Imran. As Brent unbuttoned the boy's new shirt and the boy unbuttoned his, Brett unzipped Imran's fly and unbuttoned the top of his trousers. As the boys removed each other's shirts, Brett pulled down Imran's pants and removed them along with his socks. As Imran similarly unzipped and unsnapped Brent's trousers and pulled them off with his socks, Brett removed his own shirt, and Brent and Imran removed the recently turned seventeen-year-old's cargo pants and socks together. The three boys, clad only in their underwear, Imran in a pair of Calvin Kleins, the white cloth contrasting with his brown skin and the pocket bulging with his aroused flesh, and the twins in a matching pair of Abercrombie and Fitch boxer briefs which were similarly tented out, caressed and kissed each other. Imran's long, slender fingers contrasted with the twins' pale skin, and their hands contrasted with Imran's body, his skin, like his brothers, having the soft, rich brown colour of powdered cocoa. Imran and Brent kissed, their soft, warm lips pressed together gently and tenderly as they ran their hands up and down each other's backs and as Brett snuggled up behind Imran and reaching around caressed his smooth, firm chest. Imran and Brett kissed as they massaged each other's buttocks and Brent reached down and stroked Imran's growing cock as he nibbled on the boy's nape. Brent and Brett kissed each other as Imran kissed the nape of one brother and then the other and caressed their bodies with growing excitement. Finding their own place on the floor, the three boys lay down, and as Brett reached out and took Imran's stiff cock in his hand, Imran reached out and took Brent's as Brent reached out and took his brothers. Forming a circle, the threesome snuggled in closer and licked and nibbled each other's cock. The twins, having celebrated their birthdays only four days earlier, were now five-foot-eight-and-a-half and a hundred-and thirty-eight pounds, and their stiff cocks now an impressive seven and a half inches. Imran, having turned seventeen six months earlier than the twins, was the same height but ten pounds heavier, and his cock, loosely cut, was half an inch shorter, which was still an impressive size for a seventeen-year-old. By this time Benny and Ismet were ready to shoot, and the two fifteen-year-olds eagerly sucked on each other as they felt their climaxes approaching. Benny of course took just as much delight in sucking Ismet as he was in being sucked, the pleasure even greater knowing that he was sucking and being sucked by a straight boy who was engaging in his first gay experience. It was always especially hot to have sex with someone who was doing it for their first time, and when that someone was also a sworn heterosexual, it was even hotter. You would never have guessed Ismet was a hundred percent straight and had never sucked cock before from the way he was sucking Benny. Caught up in the pleasure of having his sausage sucked, and the excitement of sucking cock for the first time himself, he eagerly sucked on the first prick he'd ever sucked in his life, and he squirmed with the pleasure of his approaching orgasm. "Unnnggh, ahhhm caghmmmmnnn," he mumbled, his mouth full of hot, throbbing cock as his own aching cock went numb and he felt his cum begin to surge up the core. It raced up the core and spurted out with a violent force that caused his body to twitch and his head to spin dizzily. He'd never shot so violently in all the jerking off sessions he'd ever had. Benny drew his lips up to the boy's knob and allowed him to fill his mouth with his thick, tart boy juice, delighting in the flavour and texture of his semen as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, sucking in the spicy fragrance of Ismet's balls as his mouth filled with the boy's milky seed. "Mmmeghhh oooogh," he warned, his mouth filled with cock and cum. His own boy juice surged up the core of his cock and shot into Ismet's mouth, rapidly filling it as he shot squirt after squirt, his balls drawn up tightly under his throbbing cock. Ismet had been so light-headed from his own orgasm that he'd been unable to think as Benny warned him, and by the time he realized what was about to happen, it already was. Benny's thick, creamy load squirted into his mouth, his cock throbbing out squirt after squirt. The slimy, slippery texture, the heat of his boy juice, and the nutty fragrance of his tight balls sent shivers up Ismet's spine, shivers of delight and of erotic pleasure. He inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, his cheeks flushed with his orgasm and with having just received another boy's semen in his mouth. As he swallowed the creamy teenage cum, copying Benny's action and too self-conscious to spit it out, gooseflesh formed on his arms and legs. Feeling Benny slip his lips off his still stiff cock, he did likewise, and as Benny raised his right leg and crawled off him, he slipped out from under him and the two boys sat up. Benny's hazel eyes were bright with pleasure, and his rosy lips were glistening with the fresh cum he'd sucked out of Ismet's balls. Ismet stared back at him, his eyes glazed with the shock of their combined climax and with pleasure, a dribble of cum extending from the corner of his lips and down around his chin, its creamy whiteness contrasting with his cocoa-brown skin. Beside them, Bobby and Abdul began to grunt and whimper with their own orgasms, the two boys jerking and bucking with the pleasure rippling through their irritated cocklets and smooth pubes, the two boys wracked with the sweet pain of their dry orgasms. So, Abdul had not yet reached his age of maturity either. As far as the two thirteen-year-olds were concerned at the moment, that didn't mean fuck. They quivered and sighed with just as much pleasure as their older brothers, and their cocklets burned with just as great an intensity. The twins and Imran were the last to come, the three seventeen-year-old boys grasping each other's hips and eagerly drinking the fresh, sweet teenage cum from the hot, throbbing spigots in their mouths. Drinking teenage cum was nothing new to any of the three, and for the twins, engaged in a threesome was hardly new either. Engaging in a daisy chain with a hot, handsome Arabian boy was, and Brent eagerly and delightedly shot his load into Imran's mouth and Imran just as delightfully shot his Arabian seed into Brett's mouth as Brett filled his brother's. The three boys savoured the texture and flavour of that unique nectar, and delighted in their orgasms and in having brought another boy off. "So, anyone want a boughasha?" asked Abdul some time later. "You bet," observed Bobby, reaching over and picking up a pastry as Abdul held out the plate. "I've worked up an appetite." "Who'd like a soda?" asked Imran as he got up, and all six put up their hands. The boys ate and drank in silence at first, each self conscious and thinking about what had happened, and all wondering just how Ismet was feeling about it. As the sodas and the walnut- filled pastries replaced the taste of cock and cum, they began to relax. "So," said Brent finally as he looked at Imran. "You said you were gay. You have a boyfriend?" "Yes," he replied, "but not here. I have a boyfriend, but he lives in San Francisco. We met though GLAS." "GLAS?" "Gay and Lesbian Arabic Society. They have a web site, glas.org. We have not seen each other since our visit back to San Francisco in July. We Email each other though, or chat, every day." "Yeah, long mushy lovey dovey chats," observed Abdul, rolling his eyes. "You said you were gay too," commented Bobby, looking at Abdul. "Yeah, but I don't got no boyfriend or nothing. I just like to be with guys, to talk with them and hang with them and stuff, and to have sex with of course. I never have been interested girls." "So you've had sex with guys before." "Shit yeah." "Abdul loves abou a'ne." "Abou a'ne?" "He of one eye." "Oh," Bobby said with a grin. "So does Bobby, " observed Benny. "I heard you call it something else too." "El fortass, the bald one," replied Abdul. "There are dozens of nicknames for it, just as there are dozens of different names in English." "Oh yeah?" asked Benny, his eyes bright. "I'd like to hear them sometime." "Your brother said you speak many languages. You know the names for a guy's thing in other languages?" asked Abdul. "Oh yeah," observed Benny. "I'd be glad to tell you them." "Anyone want more nuts?" asked Ismet, picking up the bowl and holding it out. "Oh yeah, thought you'd never ask," Bobby replied with an impish grin as he turned and reached down and groped Ismet's once again loose and low-hung balls. After their earlier sex none of the boys had bothered to get dressed, Bobby and Abdul having removed their pants and underwear and sitting there in their shirts and socks like Benny and Ismet, the twins and Imran being stark naked and acting as if it was perfectly natural. "Should have warned you not to sit beside Bobby," Benny said with a grin as he glanced at his kid brother. "Well, you know what they say," Bobby responded. "Once you start eating nuts you can't stop." He continued to fondle Ismet's sack as he looked up at the fifteen-year-old boy. "Actually," he said, "what I'd really like is to sit on your stiff el fortass." Ismet snorted at the boy's brashness, and in surprise that he'd actually say he wanted to do such a thing. "Bobby's not joking," observed Brett. "Oh yeah. There's nothing he likes better than to have a stiff one up his ass," agreed Brent. "I take after you, big brother," Bobby said with a grin, his fingers now wrapped about Ismet's limp, cocoa brown cock. "You ever have your ass fucked?" Benny asked, looking at Abdul. "Sure," the thirteen-year-old boy responded with a grin. "Though not that often," he added, furrowing his brow. "You don't like it?" "Oh no, I like it. Just I've never known many guys who like to do it. You offering?" he asked with a twinkle in his dark eyes. "Sure," Benny replied readily. By this time Bobby was stroking Ismet's rapidly swelling cock, and as Abdul and Benny moved together, Imran and the twins once more looked at each other. "I feel like an Arabian sandwich," Brett observed, looking at Brent. "What do you say brother?" "Oh yeah," Brent agreed as he reached out and took Imran's cock in his hand. As Imran and Brent fondled each other's balls and fiddled with each other's cock, Brett caressed Imran's buttocks, running his long, slender fingers over the boy's smooth, cocoa- coloured buns and running his index finger up along his ass crack. Ismet and Bobby sat side by side on Imran's bed and fiddled with each other's nuts and cock, and as Bobby ran his fingers through the older boy's hairs, Ismet stroked Bobby's smooth pubes. He was not certain about going through with this, but he was horny, and it was Eid al-Fitr, and he'd already engaged in one homosexual act that evening. Abdul and Benny had meanwhile begun kissing as they caressed each other, the two boys exchanging soft, gentle kisses as they massaged each other's backs and reached down and gently tugged on each other's cock, thirteen-year-old Abdul following Benny's lead. It was not long before Ismet was erect. Having him lay on his back on the floor, Bobby worked up a mouth of spittle and kneeling over the boy, dribbled his drool over his cock, causing it to twitch with anticipation and with arousal. Feeling and watching the boy's warm, bubbly spittle oozing over his knob, still encased in its skin, and down his shaft, Ismet could not believe how hot it was making him feel. Placing a leg on either side of the fifteen-year-old boy and facing him, Bobby slowly and carefully squatted down. As his backside touched the head of the boy's stiff cock, Bobby wiggled into position, and as Ismet held his cock in position, Bobby continued to slowly lower himself. At five-and-a-half inches, his cock was a nice size for his age, and it was the first Arabian cock Bobby would have ever had up his rectum besides, giving the thirteen-year- old two good reasons for sitting on the teenager's dick, not that Bobby had to have a reason to sit on a cock. Ismet had mixed feelings about what was happening. He'd enjoyed getting his cock sucked, and being a normal healthy, teenage boy, he'd fantasized about being blown many times, usually by a girl but given the circumstances of his two brothers, on occasion even by a boy, not that he'd ever imagined he'd actually see that fantasy become reality. As for sucking cock, he had, again the result of the pursuits of his two brothers, wondered what it might be like, though that curiosity he definitely had not expected to ever pursue. As for what he was about to do, he'd never once fantasized about that, with a guy or a girl. Fucking meant sticking your cock up a girl's pussy, and that was it. Sticking his cock up someone's shit hole, female or male, was not something that he had ever considered as being even remotely erotic. He was now, however, about to do just that, and up the ass of a boy two years younger than he was besides, a boy the same age as his younger brother. Imran, Brent, and Brett were having no doubts about what they were about to do. The three horny seventeen-year-olds had each other erect in no time, and while Brent lubed up Imran's prong with his spittle, Imran lubed up Brett's. Dropping to his hands and knees, Brent braced himself as Imran knelt down behind him. Kneeling down beside the two boys, Brett pulled his twin brother's ass cheeks apart as Imran wedged his cockhead in the boy's pucker. As Imran slowly pushed forward, Brent relaxed and pushed out with his stomach, opening his sphincter for the Arabian boy. The two grunted and snorted as they strained, and slowly Imran's long, brown cock entered the pink backside of the Canadian-American boy. Brent continued pushing out as he felt his body being penetrated, and he inhaled and exhaled deeply as Imran sunk his cock up his backside until the boy's coarse, curly hairs were tickling his rump. Having another boy sink that most precious organ deep up his body was, for Brent, the greatest pleasure in the world. Once Imran's cock was stuck up Brent's ass as far as he could get it, Brett knelt behind the Arabian boy, and pushing his seven-and-a-half inch probe down so it was parallel to the floor, he shuffled forward until the tip was pressing against Imran's brown pucker. As Brett continued to press forward, Imran relaxed and pushed out with his stomach muscles just as Brent had pushed out to accommodate him. Like Brent, having his ass fucked was something he particularly enjoyed, he and his boyfriend having engaged in this act just as often as they'd sixty-nined when he'd lived in San Francisco. Just as he and Brent had done, now he and Brett snorted and grunted as they strained to unite. Slowly Brett's stiff cock stretched open the boy's pucker until his gradually sloping cock head popped inside Imran's rectum and his sphincter snapped shut behind the flange of Brett's knob. Bobby had meanwhile sat down on Ismet's stiff five-and-a-half inches and his naked backside was now nestled in the Arab boy's dark black hairs. Abdul had meanwhile squatted down above his older brother's head facing Bobby so that his cock and balls were directly above Ismet's mouth. As he'd hoped, Ismet took his hairless balls in his mouth and began to suck on them. At the same time Benny had dropped to his knees behind Abdul, his stiff cock generously lubed with spittle. Pressing the tip against Abdul's asshole, he grasped the younger boy's hips and pressed his hips forward, wedging cock in the boy's opening. Telling him to relax and to push out with his stomach muscles, he grasped the boy's hips even tighter and continued to relentlessly push forward. Ever so slowly but surely his cock entered the thirteen-year-old Arabian boy, to the delight of both of them. So, as Bobby rode up and down on Ismet's cock, Ismet sucked on the stiff dick of his younger brother, and as Abdul was sucked off by his older brother, Bobby's older brother began to fuck Abdul's ass. As Benny slowly eased his cock in and out of the hot, moist chamber of the younger boy, Abdul wrapped his arms about Bobby and the two thirteen-year-old boys, one white and one brown, both with long eyelashes, smooth cheeks, and moist lips, bent forward and kissed. Their lips parted and met again. As they kissed gently and fondly, Bobby continued to ride up and down the stiff teenage cock up his ass, and Abdul continued to quiver with arousal as Benny slowly eased his teenage cock in and out of the boy's rectum. The breathing of the four boys became deeper and more laboured with their exertion and their lust. Bobby and Abdul quivered as the two stiff cocks massaged their prostates, and Benny and Ismet quivered as the friction sent ripples of irritation through their dickheads. Abdul reached out and began to fondle Bobby's slender, stiff cocklet as the two youngsters continued to kiss. Imran was meanwhile slowly pulling his hips back and impaling himself on Brett's seven- and-a-half inch cock until his smooth, round backside pressed against the boy's curly blond hairs, at the same time easing his stiff, aching cock out of Brett's brother's butt until the flange of his knob was stretching open the teenage boy's sphincter. He then reversed his motion, pushing his hips forward and sinking his stiff, aching cock up Brent's hot, moist rectum, and sliding his ass up Brett's cock until the boy's knob began to stretch open his own sphincter. Inhaling deeply and grasping Brent's hips tightly, he slowly drew back again, easing his stiff, aching cock out of the teenage's rectum, and at the same time sinking his ass back down on the twin's brother's stiff cock. And so the brown-skinned Arabian boy worked his body to and fro, fucking the pink skinned, blond-haired boy in front of him while the boy's twin grasped his hips with delight as he rode the long-haired boy's identical cock. Once again the bedroom was filled with the heavy breathing of the seven teenagers as they approached their orgasms, the seven boys working eagerly and deliberately toward that blissful moment, eager to experience once again the dynamic explosion between their legs, and at the same time eager to bring the same pleasure to the boy they were united with. As he rode up and down Ismet's cock, Bobby was delighting just as much in bringing Ismet pleasure as he was in the pleasure he was feeling having Ismet's hot, stiff cock easing in and out of his rectum. Ismet, finding having a boy riding his stiff cock was more pleasant than he could have ever imagined, sucked on the cock of his younger brother, desiring to bring his brother as much pleasure as he'd felt not that long ago getting his first blow job, and at the same time delighting in the knowledge that his long, stiff cock was bringing pleasure to the boy riding it. Abdul meanwhile kissed Bobby hungrily and tugged on the thirteen-year-old's stiff cocklet, delighting in the pleasure he was bringing his pale-skinned schoolmate as much as he was delighting in having his ass fucked by the boy's brother and his cock sucked by his own brother. Benny, of course, was grunting and snorting with the pleasure of having his stiff, aching cock surrounded by hot, moist ass as he worked his organ in and out of the hot young Arab boy, and he trembled with the pleasure of knowing that he was arousing the boy and sending thrills of pleasure through his body each time his cockhead brushed against the younger boy's prostate. Finally with a whimper and a sigh, Imran trembled and grasped Brent's hips as he lunged forward and shot his semen deep up the blond-haired boy's rectum, and Brett similarly whimpered as he grasped Imran's hips and lunged forward, his spurting cock beginning to fill Imran's rectum with the seventeen-year-old's semen. As he felt the hot spurts of cum shooting up his rectum, Imran trembled with the double pleasure of spurting his cum up Brent's rectum and having Brett fill his. Brent groaned in ecstasy as he knelt there on his hands and knees, delighting in having his ass fucked, and at the same time trembling with his own orgasm as his cock jerked in the air and spewed forth his seed to land in long ropes on Imran's colourful bedroom carpet. At the same time Bobby was trembling with delight as he felt Ismet's hot semen gush up his rectum and as his own body was wracked once again with the sweet pain of his dry orgasm. Abdul too was squirming and gasping with the pleasure of his dry orgasm as he felt Benny's hot cock throbbing out the fifteen-year-old's cum up his ass, and as his older brother sucked desperately on his throbbing cocklet. The two thirteen-year-olds grasped each other tightly as their asses were filled with hot, white teen lava and their bodies jerked with their own orgasms. Benny grasped Abdul's hips tightly as he pumped out his seed up the young Arab boy's ass, and Ismet trembled as he felt his stiff cock throbbing out his seed for the second time that night, in the second homosexual act of his life. Once again the room was filled with the gasps and sighs of seven boys reaching their orgasms, and once again the bedroom was scented with the fragrance of hot teenage boys in rut and hot fresh cum. The twins, Imran and Abdul closed their eyes and sighed, rejoicing that they were gay and that they knew each other. For them, there was no greater pleasure than having sex between boys. As for Bobby and Benny, the two boys were delighted that they were boys and that had no reservations about having sex with those of the same sex as themselves. If they would find the same pleasure with girls in the future was still an unknown, but for the moment, they did not care. As for seventeen-year-old Ismet, this had been an awesome and revealing evening, one he would never forget. The sex had been fantastic, but not enough to sway his beliefs nor to sway him from his orientation, but he was much more aware of what his older and younger brother were experiencing, and would in the future be much more accepting of their life style. As the six naked boys slipped out to the kitchen for more sodas and generous helpings of esh es seraya, there was a much closer bond between the Malik brothers. As for the Brewsters, their first celebration of Eid al-Fitr had been fucking fantastic so far, and after they renewed their energies with bread of the palace and few sodas, it was bound to only get better with their new Moslem friends.