Open Sesame

a fantasy

by Hank Horne

(hank2337@gmail.com)

 

Part I – Base Locale: Bagdad, Iraq

It's been nearly five years since I went to work at Global News Network (GNN) as a photographer and part-time reporter. I've been just about everywhere on all the continents on short-term stories; staying in one location for maybe a month or so, then getting reassigned somewhere else or back home to DC for six months. I've learned most of the languages native to the places where I've been, both from audio study guides and making friends with the natives. I have a good ear for accents, slight differences in the way different groups pronounce the same word and can identify hundreds of regions and their patois.

My name is Grant Richards; I was born in Baltimore, MD, but my family moved to the DC area when I was four years old. I started in the DC school system, but we moved to Montgomery County, MD, when I started Middle School. I graduated from the University of Maryland, with a degree in Broadcast Journalism, and a minor in Foreign Languages. In high school, I took Spanish and French as electives. Then added German in my freshman year of college, and Russian in my Sophomore year, Italian and Greek in my Junior year, then Japanese and Mandarin Chinese my Senior Year. The Arabic didn't come along until I was being prepped for this assignment in Bagdad. I carried a CD player with me everywhere to learn how to speak and understand the language.

Fortunately (perhaps), I don't have wife or kids to keep me tied to my home in Chevy Chase. Just a house that I grew up in and inherited from my parents. I have someone who looks after everything for me and we Skype at least once a week when I'm out of town.

The most recent overseas assignment was in the Mid-East. The network set me up in Bagdad, giving me a local cinematographer/interpreter to help me become acclimated to the situation there and make it easier for me to be accepted by the locals. Majid speaks English beautifully with only a slight Arab accent. I picked up on his command of the major dialects used in the area and soon was conversing easily with him in his dialect of Arabic.

At this point I've got to tell you more about Majid. Thirty-two years old, five-ten of solid, ripped muscle, with sparkling brown eyes and a killer smile showing a perfect set of teeth. It was all I could do not to pop an embarrassing woodie when I saw him at the airport holding a card with my name on it. As we shook hands and performed the ceremonial embrace, I was sure he could feel my excitement press against him and I was shocked to feel what I thought was the barrel of a gun against my leg. The look in his eyes said worlds to me, and my "gaydar" sounded the full-alert pings.

Majid introduced me to the Security Forces and helped me get through all the procedures a lot faster than I expected. He told me my rudimentary Arabic didn't hurt either because it showed my respect for their language. We hauled my gear out to his SUV and headed for the Rimal Hotel used by some of the foreign press corps. After the long flight, I wanted a hot shower and some food. Maji (as I came to call him) offered to get us something to eat and drink while I was taking care of the other needs.

{I just wished I could get something more refreshing and relaxing than what was available in Bagdad. Oh well, I knew what I was getting into, so as Ray Charles sang: That's Life!}

Maji returned to the room with sandwiches and Cokes (not like back home, though) just as I was getting out of the shower. I walked into the bedroom as he walked through the door. He stopped as he closed the room door, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. He was obviously flustered by my semi-nudity as he apologized profusely, mixing his Arabic and English to get his words out.

"I'm sorry, Majid, if I've embarrassed you, and I deeply apologize. I should have been more respectful of your beliefs — but I really didn't expect you back this soon."

"Oh, no, don't apologize. And I was not embarrassed. I've just never seen so perfect a body on such a handsome man up close. And to think I'll be working close to you every day. I am truly humbled," he replied.

While chuckling, I said, "There's nothing for you to be humbled about. I have a feeling that under those clothes is a hot body also. And I know you're packing an impressive weapon down your left leg."

Maji's face turned red under his dark skin, and now he really was embarrassed.

I walked over to him, put my hands on both shoulders, and looking him in the eyes told him, "I think we are going to become very close, like brothers maybe. I'd like that because I never had any. Let me get dressed and we'll eat. I'm starved, and this looks great!"

Maji invited me to have dinner that evening with his family. The gesture made me feel more comfortable in becoming acclimated to the culture since I would be with people who were friendly with Americans and (hopefully) forgive any faux pas I might make. He still lived with his parents since the girl he was engaged to was killed in a rebel raid and he was still mourning her death. His brothers, sisters, their spouses and children were all there to meet me. It seemed that I would have a ready, local family of my own while on assignment in the Middle East. They were all very welcoming, and I was impressed with their command of the English language. I did get a chance to pick up on their Arabic and they enjoyed when I would insert a comment or ask a question in Arabic. At first there was some giggles from the children when I said something, but everyone was understanding.

Maji drove me back to the hotel and said he'd meet me for breakfast the next morning. Afterward we would go to the GNN office and meet the local staff, then take a tour of the city.

Over the next week, Maji drove the Bureau Chief and me around to all the important sites in Iraq. He introduced us to all the Military Brass, both Iraqi and foreign Commanders. These would become some very important people for us to get to know because they would be the ones to speak to the world, giving authenticity to my stories and Maji's videos.

Each morning Maji would bring the company SUV around to the hotel and we'd have breakfast together, usually with our sound-technician, Jennine Beaumont, and some of the other news crews staying there. Maji, Jennine and I would usually sit together, putting Maji and me next to each other. All it would take was for Maji to rub his leg up against mine to get my nipples to come to full attention. I was always afraid that someone would notice our interaction, however subtle, but apparently none ever did. We would all get caught up on what happened overnight and what was to be expected that day. Then everyone would take off to get their own assignments from their producers. Jeannine, Maji and I would pick up our producer, Jeff Witherspoon, at the office and head out for the day's adventure. It was only on quiet weekends that Maji and I would have any real private time together.

We would visit some of his friends and family in small towns some distance from Bagdad. It was those times when we could share a room, and really be comfortable together, exploring what was forbidden in a Muslim world. One of those weekends, we went up into the hills near the Iranian border to visit some of his Kurdish family in Halabjah. I had no previous instruction in the Kurdish language, but Maji reassured me that would not be a problem. Listen carefully and I should pick it up before the weekend was over.

We left Bagdad early and had lunch with his cousins. He wanted to head out to the northeast, toward the Iranian border. I was a bit nervous about being off the beaten path, but he said he grew up wandering all over these hills. He said there was one place he particularly wanted to show me – a hiking trail that stopped at a hundred-foot cliff.

We parked the SUV about a hundred yards from the cliff and went the rest of the way on foot. Maji was extremely attentive about helping me over the rough spots by holding my hand tightly and making sure I kept my balance. Or so he said .... I wanted to hold his hand too. We got to the base of the cliff where there was a six-foot-wide space between two sides of the mountain. It ran about fifty yards down and ended where the two sides of the hill came together again. We got about half way to the end when Maji abruptly turned, pushed me up against the cliffside and laid an incredibly hot, deep kiss on me, forcing my mouth open to accept his tongue and begging for mine in return. His hot tongue was not the only thing I felt invading my space. The barrel of his personal hot-rod was pressing against his shorts and rubbing up against my own one-armed-bandit.

"Grant, this is the only place I know of where we can be ourselves. Anywhere else there are ears listening to everything. Every little sound can be heard in the next room, and there are always people who would tell on us if they could prove anything."

"Maji, we'll just have to always be careful. Even now someone may be sneaking up on us. I want you as much as you want me. But we should be extremely cautious. No intimate suggestions anywhere except when we're secluded."

"Grant, I want you in me – now!"

"I want it too, but are we safe even here?"

"There's a place over on that side that you can keep watch while you take care of my present need."

"We're in this together, Maji. Que sera sera!"

I crossed to the other side of the path as though I were going to take a leak, unzipped, and Maji came over, took my engorged member in his hand, knelt and began a trip to oblivion for both of us. He ran his tongue around the corona and across the salivating tip. Slowly he worked his way down with his tongue, and back up to the head. Then he took the head in his mouth and worked his way to the base of my obelisk. He pulled back until just the head was in his mouth, and again went all the way to the short-hairs. I caught my breath as he started pumping the full length each time. I was so caught up in the moment I was gasping for breath.

"Get ready, man. You're about to get a month's supply."

"M-m-m-m-m-m," Maji replied, and began pumping as though he were starving.

My knees gave way with me and I collapsed on the ground. When I opened my eyes, Maji was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"What's that song in your country," he asked, "that says `Mmmm, good'?"

"It's a soup commercial. Maybe, cream of something soup? Let me know when you're ready for me to reciprocate."

"It'll be a while. I shot my wad when you did."

"And I was expecting some of that soup too," I pouted.

We both laughed, then stood up.

"We'd better get back to the SUV. It might draw too much suspicion if someone passed by."

The SUV was just as we left it, so we turned around and headed down the mountain, and back to Halabjah. Maji's Aunt Fadila prepared an outstanding Kurdish meal for us, and we had a most enjoyable visit with the family that evening. We had taken camping gear, so we put our sleeping bags in his cousin Dildar's bedroom; we flatly refused to take the bed and inconvenience him.

Maji and I stripped to our boxers then crawled into the bags. Dildar came in just as Maji was getting in his. The kid stopped and stared at his cousin.

"What?" Maji asked.

"When did you get so muscular?" his cousin questioned.

"I work out a few days each week."

"Do you do bodybuilding contests?"

"No way! This is all natural," Maji replied as he flexed both biceps. "I would never do any of those steroids that professional bodybuilders do. You want to see a build, get Grant to flex for you sometime."

"Would you, Grant?"

"I'm in bed. Maybe tomorrow."

"Oh," the boy said, disappointed.

"Come on, Grant. Flex'em for us," Maji cajoled.

"Nah. I'm tired. I had a lot taken out of me today."

Maji nearly choked with that remark. He reached over and pulled the bag off me and started a tickling session which made me fight back.

"Alright! Alright, already! I'll flex for you!" Then I grabbed Maji in a headlock and flexed as I tightened the hold. Dildar laughed at us.

"You two really are good with each other," he commented.

"When you work very closely with someone every day, it's almost like living together, and you become very fond of that person when they're as likeable as Majid."

"Yeah, he's really a good man. He's always been fun to be around."

"It's late, Dil. Get in bed. We've had a long day, even if all you've done is nosing around the city. Sleep well, little cousin."

"Good night, Dildar."

"Rest well, you two. I'm glad you didn't want the bed to sleep together!" he snickered.

Maji sat up immediately. "What do you mean by that?"

"Dildar, if we had wanted to sleep together we would have put the sleeping bags together so it would be a lot easier than this way," I replied. "So go back to your own deviated fantasy."

Maji looked at me and laughed. "Yeah! Dream on!"

Dildar put his sleep shirt on and crawled in bed. A few minutes later Maji and I heard the slight movement of the bed, as if it were being rocked. We looked at each other and smiled knowingly.

"Something warm and wet is a lot more satisfying than a dry hand," Maji said aloud. "I can just imagine if Jeannine was here, she'd first wrap her hot mouth around me and get me worked up for a more pleasing out – come. Oh well, we'll be back in Bagdad tomorrow and I'll see my little girl."

I could see Maji's face as he rolled his eyes.

"You deposit anything in that sleeping bag and you're cleaning it up yourself – even if you have to lick it up."

"I'll shoot it over on your bag, then!"

"Only if you want to lose those gonads that produced it."

We both were laughing by that time, and Dildar was looking at us with his mouth agape.

"Dil, go ahead and jack off. Neither of us cares if you do," Maji said. "Then go to sleep!"

So – the kid did just that.

Sunday morning, we had a delicious breakfast with the family and packed up to go back to Bagdad. Before we left, Maji and Dildar got into a wrestling match and Maji turned his little cousin every way but loose. They had an enjoyable time together, and Maji promised we would come back to visit again soon.

* * * * * * *

A couple of months went by when Maji and I found more time to be alone and enjoy each other more and more. Maji is a great friend, a great lover, and a great person to have in my life. I don't know if some of our friends think of us as a couple, but we think of ourselves as such. I'm settled into the hotel and he still lives at home with his parents. He tells them it will take a long time to get over losing his fiancée, when in fact his new fiancé is with him every day. We have decided that when I'm transferred back to the states, I'll take him with me as my cameraman, wherever we get a new assignment.

As we promised Dildar, we made the trip up to Halabjah every so often. The second time we went up there, we went back to the mountain cliff for some wonderful memories and more forbidden action. This time we were prepared with some ointments to ease the intrusion.

By the time we got to the secluded area under the mountain, we were both ready to receive the other. He led the way and when I got to the fissure where we could see anyone coming but they couldn't see us, he had his pants around his ankles and was lubing his rosebud. My excitement was obvious through my pants. I was already unzipped and ready to rumble when I arrived. I took the lube and rubbed a large blob deep inside him with my fingers, stretching him as much as possible with three fingers. When he said he was ready, I approached his anal entrance with a few light pushes, each one becoming a bit more forceful until I slowly eased past the first barrier.

"You sure you're ready for this?"

"More than ever."

"Okay, push back against me, like you're going to take a crap. I'll push forward as you push back. Breathe deeply, then blow it out. Again."

Third push was a success. I could feel his love nut and wiggled my cock inside him. He gasped. I held still a moment. He began to push deeper and deeper on me and back off some. He developed a rhythm and I picked up on it. I pushed toward him as he pushed back on me and pulled back as he moved forward. This lasted for several minutes when he picked up the tempo. I reciprocated. I grabbed him around the waist and began to force myself in him at my own speed. He let me take the lead and, in another moment, I was unloading myself inside him. The intensity was overwhelming. I leaned on him until I could regain my control.

Slowly Maji pulled off me and I collapsed on the ground. He turned toward me and offered his engorged cock. I leaned forward and took it, all eight thick inches, and began long-stroking with my mouth. In almost no time, Maji began to unload down my throat. It seemed like it took five minutes to drain every drop from him.

For a long time, we just sat, leaning up against the cliff wall. It probably took fifteen minutes for us to recuperate before we could get presentable again. He left my sacred offering at the cave entrance, but it would dry up before we'd be back.

A few weeks later we went back for our third trip to the beautiful mountains that divides the Kurdistan area of Iraq and Iran. It has become our favorite spot to be alone. By this time Maji and I have been able to use my hotel room for our intimate needs, but the mountains have special meaning for us.

We were ready for the initial insertion. My left hand was working its way up Maji's side to his chest; two fingers tweaking his left nipple. My right hand placed my rod at his entrance, then reached up and grabbed his right nipple in a tight pinch. I was knocking at his back door and let him know I was ready with a seductive bon mot in his ear: "Open, Sesame!" I had just started to penetrate him when there was a loud rumble from the cliff. He yelled: "Earthquake!" The wall he was propped on started moving, and Maji would have fallen had I not been holding onto his waist.

He grabbed his pants as he stood up, and I was just standing there with my cock in my hand.

"What the fuck!?" I gasped.

"What did you say?" Maji asked.

"I said ...."

"Open ...."

The entrance to a humongous cavern opened before us. I held onto Maji as I looked around at the hordes of precious gems, jewelry, goblets, urns, plates, lanterns, all of gold, platinum, silver. Every imaginable priceless object that had ever been thought of as of a thousand years ago.

"Are we going in?" Maji asked.

"I don't know," I answered.

"What should we do?"

"Nothing, right now. Let's see what happens to the entrance. How long it takes to close and how much time we'll have to get in and out."

"Are we going to grab any of this stuff?"

"Not now. We've got to chill about this. Let's sit on it for a while. It ain't going anywhere. Then we can come back later when we know how long we would have inside."

It wasn't long before the side of the mountain began to reverse itself and close. It was only open about five minutes. That's not much time to look around inside and get out before being trapped in there.

"Let's get back to Bagdad. We'll tell your aunt and uncle we got a message of a big story and need to get back fast. And this is a really big story!"

We made a brief stop in Halabjah then hauled ass for Bagdad.

When we got to my hotel, Maji brought his bag in, as I did mine. He was going to spend the night with me while we figured things out, then he would go home on Sunday.

After getting quick showers (the shower's not large enough for two to shower at the same time, dammit!), we spent some time just holding each other and enjoying the feel of a hot, muscular body, along with hot lips and tongues. It was a fantastic make-out session (if anybody uses that expression any more).

We dressed, went down to dinner and met up with some of the other news crews who had stayed in town. Another of GNN's three-person crews showed up after we were already seated in the hotel restaurant. They got a table next to us and we made general talk about what was anticipated in the next few days. After dinner, Maji and I went back to my room because there was no way in hell we would talk about our discovery where anyone could hear us.

I turned on the TV with the volume a bit louder than normal and we talked in low tones. After an hour or so, we pretty much decided to make the trip back up there in a couple of weeks. One of us would go in at a time and look around for a few minutes, then get out and wait for the entrance to close again. The next day we'd go back again and the other would go in and look around. We would only look and not touch anything in case the place was booby-trapped to prevent theft. After another couple of weeks, we'd check out the place again and see what we might carry away without being too obvious. All these ancient countries are very possessive about their treasures, and foreigners' taking "national antiquities" out of their country.

Maji and I talked well into the night, and by that time we were exhausted. We lay down on the bed, promptly falling asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, we awoke later than usual. We showered, I shaved, and went down for breakfast. We never mentioned yesterday, or what we had discussed last night. I went over to spend the afternoon with his family and had dinner with them. Then Maji took me back to the hotel. The next week was a routine, sometimes action-packed week in Bagdad. Explosions. Terrorists wrecking cars and trucks into village market places. The usual for the place and time.

Next weekend we went directly to the mountains. We both had digital video cameras. I went in first, recording everything I saw. Maji stayed outside and kept track of the time. At four minutes, he told me to get out. I ran for the opening as the entrance started to close. I just made it through and the wall sealed behind me. We went back to the SUV to look at the video. There was nothing to be seen on the viewer. But we saw it with our own eyes. The gold and gems were reflecting a radiant glow throughout the cavern. None of it recorded.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Maji asked.

I just shook my head. "Not a clue." I turned the camera and shot video of the mountainside. We looked at it and everything was perfect.

"The damn stuff doesn't exist. It's a hallucination. We just think we see it."

"Let's go back into town, get lunch, and this afternoon I'll try my luck inside," Maji offered.

"Okay. I don't know what else to do at this point."

"When I'm ready to get out, I'll grab something small to bring with me, if I can."

"Uh-uh. Don't do anything like that. This time we'll just try to get pictures of it. Another time we'll see what we can carry off. Let's spend the night in town then come back up here tomorrow."

"Are you really up for another night sharing a room with a horny teenager?"

We both laughed.

"Either that or a hotel. We might have to drive over to As Sulaymaniyah."

"I don't think the Hiltons or the Marriotts have found their way to Halabjah yet. Maybe a Motel `66-95' would have the lights on for us; there certainly aren't six dollar motels anymore."

"I didn't realize you have a university degree."

Maji looked puzzled. "I don't. Why?"

"Then how did you get to be such a - Smart-Ass?"

That's when he began a full tickling attack in the SUV.

After I cried "Uncle!" he started the engine and we went back down to the town. As we were looking for a place to eat and maybe stay, we happened to see Dildar patrolling one of the main streets. Of course, we had to stop and speak to him. After some general chit-chat, we asked about a place to eat and an inn to spend the night. He mentioned Gal Kafatrya and Kamandi Café, both on Charmo Street, then suggested a new restaurant by the park called "45." He said they have good food and it's just south of Charmo. As to a hotel, he volunteered to sleep in the sleeping bag so I could have the bed. He would also let his mother know we would be there for dinner and the night. We thanked him and headed for some good food.

Back on the mountain, we both had our cameras; I would shoot from outside while Maji would go inside.

"Four minutes and get out!" I told him.

"Four minutes and I'm out of there," he replied.

"Open Sesame!"

The mountainside opened, revealing the incomparable treasure inside. We both started shooting. Maji went in shooting video tape in all directions while I shot color film from the outside looking in. At four minutes, I hollered for him to get out. He came running but the wall closed before he could get through.

Maji was stuck inside. What was I going to do now?

I took several deep breaths and said: "Open Sesame!"

Nothing! Nothing moved! The wall stayed in place, and I began to panic.

"Open Sesame!"

"O for God's sake, OPENNNN SESAMEEEE!"

Nothing!

I sat down opposite the blank wall as tears ran down my face.

I looked at my watch. It had been ten minutes that seemed more like ten hours. Maybe now it would open.

"Open Sesame!" Again nothing.

`I'm not leaving here until I get Maji out of there,' I said to myself.

Fifteen more minutes. "Open Sesame!"

Nada. Rien. Nichts. Zilch.

ZUT!

Thirty minutes went by and my prayers seemed of no purpose. I thought of Claudius' line from Hamlet: `My words fly up, but my thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go.'

I was about to lose my mind from fear and grief. What would I tell his family about what happened? Nobody would believe me, and I'd be convicted of killing him. But I've lost everything I wanted to live for, so what's the difference?

A few minutes later, or was it an eternity, I heard a sound. The cave was opening and Maji walked through. Or was it a ghost? I jumped up, ran to him and grabbed him in a full bear hug, laying one long kiss on his sensual lips.

"You won't believe what I'm going to tell you. It's all real in there although it cannot be photographed. I touched it. I put on some of the gold chains. One had a pendant of emerald, ruby and sapphire. But I didn't try to take anything because I would never have gotten out with it."

"How do you know?"

"The jinni warned me."

"A genie talked to you?"

"Yep! A big, old, grotesque jinni appeared out of a puff of smoke when I picked up a lamp. It scared the crap out of me. He asked how I got in there, and I told him. I didn't think it was funny, but he got a big laugh out of it. `So, you have a friend outside waiting for you?' he asked. Man, it's hard to understand that Old Persian language. He wants to meet you, so if you go in with me, he'll let each of us take one piece of his gold with us."

"Yeah! Right! There's no fuckin' way in hell that genie will let us out of there if we both went in together. You don't believe that shit, do you?"

"Uh — I don't know. Maybe not. Maybe. I don't know what to believe right now. I don't know if I believe what I just told you. Let's get out of here and go back to town. Right now, I want a pipe and lots of time to smoke it.

"I don't want a Hookah pipe, but I could really down several vodkas straight."

I leaned in, took him in my arms and kissed him again, for a long time. When we went back to the SUV, we sat there for a while just holding hands, then I drove back to town.

We went directly to Maji's uncle and aunt's home, freshened up a bit and visited through dinner. After dinner, we brought our sleeping bags in and put them in Dildar's room. It wasn't long before we both were asleep. Dildar tried to be quiet when he came to bed, but I had already gotten a couple hours of deep sleep and was sleeping lightly so I heard him. I didn't speak but listened to him perform his apparent nightly routine of jacking off. I smiled to myself and returned to a deep, restful sleep.

Sunday morning, we headed back to the mountain. We needed a solid plan to get us both into the cavern and out again, with or without any loot.

I tossed out an idea as we drove into the hills.

"Maji, give me the pros and cons of this scenario. We open the wall, I go all the way in and you stand at the edge of the wall where he can see you, but you can get out fast if the wall starts to close. Anyway, at four minutes, step back outside in case the wall starts to close."

He thought a bit, then replied: "The jinni may insist I come all the way in to get my piece of gold."

"Then we'll switch places. I'll get mine and let you come in when I'm by the entrance."

"Do you think you could talk him into something like that?"

"Sure. Do you remember `Baba Wahwah'? She was my tutor in interviewing big-wig assholes and getting what I want from them. Just follow my lead when we get there. `K?"

"Okay. I hope you know what we're doing."

`So do I,' I thought to myself.

Maji found a different place to park in case spies wonder why the same car was parked in the same spot so many times and so frequently. This time it was hidden by a grove of trees, but we had about a mile to walk to the cavern. At least we didn't have to lug video cameras which were useless anyway.

When we got to the entrance of the cavern, I asked him: "You ready?"

"We gotta do what we gotta do!" he replied.

Together we said the passwords: "Open Sesame!"

The tremor started as the entrance to the cavern opened. I slowly walked in and Maji reminded me, "Four minutes!" He remained at the door.

"Oh, Genie! Here, Genie, Genie, Genie! Come on, big guy. I'm here waiting for you to show yourself. Genie?"

A puff of smoke billowed up out of one of those ancient oil lamps, and the most god-awful looking creature appeared at the top of the cavern, looking down at me.

"I didn't think you would come back. Where's your friend?" he said in modern Persian or Farsi — at least something I could understand and speak.

"He's over there by the entrance, so if you try any funny stuff at least one of us will get out of here."

"Come over here, little man."

"Not in this or any other lifetime," I replied.

"What do you want?

"I want to know what's going on here and how you and all this treasure got here."

"This is my collection of baubles and other things your humans wanted me to provide them many of your centuries ago. Everything they wanted was a fantasy that I created for them. When they were finished with what they wanted me to provide them, I brought those things here for keeping."

I picked up the lamp from which the genie emanated. It was gold with ruby enamel, and studded with diamonds, emeralds and blue opals.

"Put that down!" he bellowed.

"Why? What is so important about my holding this lamp that it bothers you for me to do that?"

"That doesn't belong to you. It's mine. All this is mine!"

"Gee, Mr. Genie, this old lamp is not a fantasy and has gotten all dusty through the years, so I'll just dust it off for you," I said.

"NO! DO NOT RUB IT!"

I rubbed it with my hand while looking up at the genie. He became almost apoplectic.

"Don't do that! — Why did you do that?"

I smiled at him. "What power does this give me over you now?"

"No power! You'll never have power over the greatest of all the jinn!

"Really? What about my three wishes? That is what you're afraid of, isn't it?

"I could never be afraid of a mere mortal like you!" he said, with an attempt at bravado that never really came across.

"Maybe we could make a deal which would be beneficial to you as well as my friend and me."

"What?"

"You grant me my three wishes."

"WHAT? You demand three wishes from me?"

"Yup!"

"Never! Stupid little man!"

"Then maybe I'll just take this with me when we leave, rather than leave it here for you to keep with your treasures." His demeanor changed drastically. "That's better!

"Wish number one: I wish for two of these matching rings for my friend and me to wear always as a memento of our experience here. What do you say to that, oh `super-great' genie?"

"NO!"

"You would deny me one of my insignificant wishes?"

"Yes! — No." He replied meekly, "You can have them."

"Wish number two: That you allow us to leave here with no interference or harm to us after we select our rings."

"It will be as you wish," he replied, dejectedly.

"And the third wish — I'll hold that in abeyance until we are ready to leave. Majid, come on over here and let's select our wedding rings."

"What? But we can't be married. If we tried to be, we would be executed for heresy."

"We can in Canada. Now, Mr. Genie, which of these rings possess the spirits of other genies?"

I rummaged around through the vast number of rings in the collection, and when I found one I liked, I asked him, sarcastically: "I know there is no other genie as great and powerful as the genie of the lamp, but does this possess a genie who almost measures up to your greatness?"

A little too fast he protested, "No, that does not have a jinni with it."

"Let's test it and see." I put the ring on my middle finger and it shrank until it fit perfectly. Then I extended the finger, pointed toward the ugly, smoke infused illusion; I rubbed the finger and ring as though I were sliding it up and down on my finger. (You get the idea.) Smoke began to ascend, and a genie appeared. It was not as big and ugly as the one from the lamp; in fact, this genie was really hunky, for a puff of smoke. `My God, he's gorgeous!' I thought.

"Well, well. Hotter — than — I'd take him any day!"

"Thank you, Master, for accepting your devoted servant. It will be an honor and privilege to perform any service within my power," replied the genie of the ring.

Oh, wow! I was breathless when that magnificent baritone voice spoke from the genie of the ring.

Then the genie of the lamp bellowed in ancient Persian, ^"Your mother's vagina, get back where you belong!"

The hot, younger genie calmly retorted, also in ancient Persian, ^"Eat shit, Septis!"

"Yeah, what he said!" I added, nodding to the newcomer. "Now for my last wish before you disappear – Septis, is it? I wish you would deliver one million United States of America legal tender dollars to me personally, every day for the next fifty years, Earth time."

^"Fuck you!" the huge, grotesque genie hollered in English, then disappeared into the lamp.

"That's 18,262 days of one million dollars each day, or 18 billion 262 million legal and real dollars. And don't you miss one day!" I hollered after him, then a little quieter, I said: "Shithead!"

"You know the meaning of `Septis'?" the nice genie asked, smiling.

The hot young immortal became a solid entity, and man, was he solid. He was about six and a half feet tall, around 250 pounds of solid ripped muscle, a suggestion of a black, neatly trimmed beard, bare torso, with armband around his incredible bicep, chiseled pecs, nipples pierced with large, heavy gauge gold rings, and sheer baggy style pants that hid absolutely nothing underneath but drew attention to the biggest male member I've ever seen, complete with a huge "Prince Albert" at its tip.

By this time Maji had come over to join us. He looked like he was in a trance.

"Didn't expect this, did you, Maji?"

"Madha hadath?" Maji asked.

"What happened? What happened is, I told the big, ugly genie that I want one million US dollars every day for the next fifty years, so we'll see if I get it."

"Then who is this hot, elephant-hung stud?"

"I am Jamal. Do you think I fit my name?" replied the `handsome' jinni hunk, smiling as he flexed his muscles.

"Oh, a thousand times over. Why couldn't I find a jinni as nice and hot as you?" Maji replied.

"Perhaps you would allow me to show you a band that would meet your desire. I believe this one over here would be satisfactory for you."

He pointed to one, Maji picked it up and put it on his left middle finger, as I had done, and rubbed it. As mine had previously produced Jamal, his ring puffed smoke and another jinni appeared beside Jamal. Obviously, Jamal's twin brother, or he caused himself to look like the jinni from my ring.

Jamal spoke: "This is my — special friend, Arman. We have always enjoyed working together to bring happiness to our masters. I have the feeling that you two are as special to each other as we are, and if you will allow us to remain together as you are, we shall be able to provide great services to you — forever."

Maji and I looked at each other and smiled, then nodded assent to the two gorgeous jinn. I reached out my arms wide and said: "Group hug?" We stayed together in the group hug for several minutes, with all our male protrusions reaching for the others'. Only the jinn could reach each other. When they touched, their cocks pushed through the sheer material and their "Prince Albert" rings interlocked, producing an explosion of iridescent opal hued cum from both. It merged in a spiral, then separated as creamy jets aimed directly toward each of Maji and my open mouths.

We gulped, swallowed, and took a few minutes to recuperate from the experience. Finally, when I could speak, I said to the others, "Alright guys, let's get out of here and head back to Bagdad. Should we take the lamp with us to make sure Septis keeps his part of the bargain? How can we hide it from everyone?"

Arman took off his sheer pants, which naturally left him naked, and wrapped the lamp in them at which time it became invisible. The jinni handed me the folded-up clothing to carry. "If this is wrapped around it, the lamp will never be noticed," he said.

The jinn transported us to the SUV and we drove back to Bagdad, jinn gold bands secure on our middle fingers.

Maji and I were driving south on Highway 4, approaching Maydan Saray, when I got a glimpse of someone in our rear passenger seat. I turned around and saw Arman and Jamal sitting there, wearing T-shirts, short shorts and sandals. Each had a `third eye' peeking out from under the leg of the shorts – which were much too short to hide anything they possessed.

"What are you two doing?" I asked, surprised at their appearance.

"Enjoying the ride and the views."

"What did you think we were doing, fucking on your back seat?"

`That must be Jamal, with the "smart" remarks,' I thought to myself.

"Won't people see you as we go through town?" I asked in amazement.

"No," replied Arman. "Only the two of you can see or hear us. We are your jinn and only you will be granted that privilege as humans without your permission."

"Jamal, for some reason, you look very familiar to me. Would I have seen you somewhere before?" I asked.

"I don't know why, master. I have been in my ring for maybe a thousand years."

"This is going to bug me until I think of where I've seen you."

"Once I heard of a man in Persia who looked like me. People said he was so handsome that he was irresistible to both women and men alike." Jamal replied.

"I can understand that!" Arman interjected. "It's why I choose to look like him."

I was still puzzled where I had seen this smokin' hot hunk before.

"Well, since we are all here and no one can hear us, let's talk about our future. Maji, I'd like to toss an idea out to get your thoughts about it and the jinn's thoughts on how they can help us."

"Go for it, man! This is as good a time as any."

"My assignment here is almost over and I'll be sent back to the States for a break. I should be getting a million U.S. dollars tomorrow from that asshole Septis, and every day after that. The money I get while I'm still here I'll give to you to deposit in a bank here, in your and your family's names. I got plenty coming later, so this should help all your family, including those up in Halabjah. Consider it my way of expressing my appreciation for all they've done for me. I feel like they are my family too."

"No way, José!" Maji objected.

"Your family couldn't use the money?"

"Well, sure, but all at once would look suspicious to the authorities."

"Okay. What say about five hundred a month for the next few years for each member of your family?"

"That might be believable," Maji agreed.

"Next, when my new assignment comes through in DC, I'll insist that the network reassign you to DC as my cameraman."

"You can do that?" Maji asked, amazed.

"I'll tell Witherspoon that we work so well together that I want you to go back with me. Let him think what he wants to. We'll get a formal request to take to the American Embassy for a visa. They'll have a month to work on it. Or I'll have these two jinn whisk you out of this part of the world, sight unseen!

"Hey, keep your eyes on the road!"

The jinn just sat in the back smiling and nodding their agreement.

By the time we got back to Bagdad, the jinn had disappeared, even from us, and I had gone over my thoughts of how I'd like to see our future grow together.

Monday morning, I awoke to find one million dollars, in real dollar bills, stacked in my room. That damned Septis was sure to find a way to make me regret my third wish. I phoned Maji and told him I needed him at the hotel immediately. Then I called for Jamil to help me do something with this money. He stood there laughing at me, and I was beginning to get pissed.

"Hide all this money someway! I can't have this just sitting around here! Just hide it for now so I can think of something to do with it!"

Soon Maji knocked on the door with his "shave and a haircut" pattern. I let him in as he asked, "What's going on here?"

"Just look around the room," I replied.

"What? I don't see anything different."

I looked around also and realized the money was gone. Jamal just stood there grinning and his cock flopping up and down. I explained to Maji what was going on, and he started laughing too.

"It's not funny! I've got to figure some way to get this in a Swiss bank.

"So, go to Switzerland and open an account with the first million, then you can add to it daily for the next million years," Maji offered.

"Like that's just a snap of the fingers."

"It is for me," Jamal interjected.

A Chinese gong went off in my head! Of course. Why have a jinni working for you if you don't use his abilities?

I picked up the phone and called the office. Jeff Witherspoon answered.

"Jeff, it's Grant. Something has come up and I've got to take care of some things back home. My house-sitter Skyped me and I need some personal leave time to work out a few problems. Maji will be in as usual.

"Thanks, Jeff. I'll be ready to go tomorrow morning. I really appreciate this. Bye.

"Okay, that's taken care of. Maji, I'll talk with you later. Jamal, I need some of international businessmen's current business clothing; Everett Hall designer suit, white shirt with ruby and diamond cuff links, tie with some ruby-red in it, socks, and dress shoes. I'll also need you to swap the million dollars into the largest denomination American bills available – five-hundred-dollar bills, thousand-dollar bills, whatever is legal to have today. You can handle that, can't you."

"As you said, Master – a snap of the fingers."

A complete Everett Hall designer business outfit, which would have cost me a couple thousand dollars, appeared in Jamal's one hand and a black leather attaché case with my initials and a combination lock in his other hand.

"Suit, perfectly tailored for your body, and ten thousand United States of America one-hundred-dollar bills in the case. Will there be anything else you require now, sir?"

"I'll whistle `Dixie' when I'm ready for your cock up my ass!"

"Obviously, I'll be ready when you are," he replied with a smirk as his twelve inches of magic wand started nodding up and down, then shaking side to side, then in a circle and finally in a figure 8.

"Ah ha!" I commented, "The infinity sign. Just keep that pattern going until I finish my shower!"

Jamal's big brown eyes opened even wider, not believing his ears. "Yes, Master," he said, accepting my command.

"Come in the bathroom with me so I can be sure you keep it waving," I told him, smirking. "You can take your clothes off while you're in here." His clothes disappeared, and his cock maintained its momentum as he entertained me.

I showered and jacked off, watching Jamal's monster cock perform its erotic dance. After rinsing and turning the water off, I tried to grab his magic tube, but he could avoid my hand every time. We laughed together, I dried myself, and we went back into the bedroom where I got into my boxer-briefs when there was a knock on the door.

"Room service," the man's voice said.

I slipped on a robe for propriety in an Arab world, opened the door and let an absolutely gorgeous young Arab man in with my breakfast. He had broad shoulders, his biceps filled the flowing sleeves, and his pecs filled out the top of the shirt while it tapered to a trim waist behind a gold sash.

"Come in! Please put the tray on the table by the window." I got a 5,000 dinar for his tip and he was shocked.
"Oh no, I cannot accept this much, great sir," he said in shock.

"I don't have anything smaller, so keep it and I may need some other services later. I'll ask for you and you can forget any payment then – maybe." We grinned at each other. "Whom should I ask for? What is your name?"

"I am Hassan. Please ask for Hassan and I will be at your service always."

"I'll do that, Hassan. I'm sure you are very good at everything you do. Have a nice day."

Hassan closed the door behind him, I sat to eat breakfast, and Jamal reappeared with a "shit-eating" grin across his face.

"You Americans have an expression – I think yours is working overtime," he said.

"Sounds like you have your own `gadar' working full-time too."

"Let me know when you are ready to leave for Switzerland. Whistle `Dixie' when you want me!"

"Smart-ass!"

* * * * * * *

It was about 10:00 a.m. in Zurich when I appeared in a stall of a men's restroom. As I was trying to acclimate myself to this new means of instant transportation, an idea came to me. After washing my hands, I took out my cell phone and pretended to make a call. Actually, I was talking to Jamal. "Keep half of the money under wraps so we can go to another bank this afternoon."

"As you wish, Master," he replied, and I hope I was the only one who heard him.

I walked out of the office building, hopefully looking like a prosperous young businessman, across the street to the USB building. Inside, I gave the young lady at the reception station my name and told her I had an appointment with Herr Heinrich Koenig. She showed me an area to have a seat and someone would see me soon. She asked if I would like some coffee or chocolate while I waited. Coffee sounded perfect to me.

When a middle-aged man came toward me, he said my name, so I stood, and we shook hands. I explained that I had inherited a large sum of money from my European family and wanted to keep that inheritance in Europe. A Swiss bank was all I would truly trust, and USB among the most reputable. We went into his office, I filled out some paperwork, opened my attaché case, showing him the five hundred thousand US dollars, I wanted to deposit. He completed the paperwork, gave me some preliminary checks and deposit slips until the printed ones were ready. I asked him if I could pick them up here in Zurich since I would not be home in America for at least a month, maybe two. That was agreeable to him. He asked if I had plans for lunch as he would like for me to join him and a friend; naturally I readily agreed.

He picked up the phone to call his friend.

"Gerhard, heute Mittag essen. Ich habe einen neuen Klienten hier mochte ich dich treffen. Grant Richards, der GNN NewsMan. Tust du? Bei 3.15?"

["Gerhard, about lunch today. I have a new client here I want you to meet. Grant Richards, the GNN newsman. You do? At 3:15?"]

 

Heinrich looked at me, so I acknowledged that. Jamal told me mentally that he had put me on the calendar with Gerhard Rothschild at Credit Suisse to deposit the other half of today's money.

"I'll make the reservation for 12:30 at Parkhuus. Spater! I think you'll like Gerhard. We are very close friends, although we work for different banks. We never take our work home with us. To paraphrase one of your expressions, what happens at work stays at work. He is easy to work with."

The meal was outstanding and the company more so. After a long lunch time with delicious food and too much wine for me, it was obvious the two of them were more than just "friends." Gerhard and I walked back to his office and took care of our business there. The second half of Septis' "donation" was in the case at the needed time. Jamal and I got back to Bagdad in time for dinner.

The next morning, Septis had a fresh supply of one-dollar bills stacked but Jamal had it converted to hundreds by the time I got back from breakfast and stashed in the attaché case.

"Jamal, please check out some of the banks in the Caribbean. I would like at least one appointment over there this evening which would be mid-afternoon there. I have deposit slips for the two Swiss banks, two hundred fifty thousand each today."

"It shall be done as you wish, Master."

It was a busy day for our crew this day. We covered some activity up in Kirkuk and filed several video reports from the scene. I ordered my dinner up in the room, which Hassan delivered, and looking even hotter than the day before. I just had a towel around me when I opened the door for him. He went directly over to the table and didn't see me until he turned around. His mouth dropped open and he started to hyperventilate. I gave him a bottle of water and told him to sit down. I'm not sure but think his legs gave way under him because he plopped in the chair. I don't know how it happened, but my towel came undone and dropped, leaving me totally naked in front of the kid. Then I realized Jamal had pulled it from around my waist.

"Damn it, Jamal!" I said in a low voice.

Poor Hassan was staring at me in shock and awe.

"I'm sorry, Hassan, I did not mean for that to happen."

"Oh, do not worry, Mr. Grant. I will not tell anybody. I have been wishing that would happen since I was here yesterday."

Now I was in shock. "You have?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh yes. I have never seen a more magnificent man. Thank you!"

I reached down and put my towel back around me, forgetting to give him a tip. Or maybe I gave him a gratuity more to his liking. Then Hassan let himself out of the room.

I got dressed in my new business attire while Jamal gave me a rundown of some of the offshore banks. The Royal Bank of Canada requires a minimum deposit of one million dollars, as does the Swiss Bank. The Cayman Bank only requires one hundred thousand, minimum.

"Okay, Jamal. Let's go to the Cayman Islands since we only have two hundred fifty thousand. We'll do the Bahamas tomorrow and Thursday."

Again, Jamal deposited me in a stall of a men's room; then I walked across the street to the Cayman Bank and asked for Mr. Wylie Grayson. I had a 3:30 appointment.

Mr. Grayson came out and introduced himself, then asked me to join him in his office. I went through the inheritance routine. When I pulled out the money, he called in an associate, Jarrell Crane, to verify the cash amount and co-sign the paperwork. Again, I got a PING from my "gaydar" about these two. What was Jamal doing? Setting me up with all the gay bankers in the world?

It was close to 5:00 and the bank was about to close. Wylie invited me to join him and Jarrell for a drink around the corner, if I had time. Of course, I happily accepted. And was very glad I did. We spent about an hour at a hip cocktail lounge. When they invited me to have dinner with them, I declined, asking for a "rain check." It was past midnight Bagdad time and I had an early call this morning at the office.

I was in my own bed fifteen minutes later. Later that morning, I filled out deposit slips for each of the banks to distribute the money, including my Bank of America account. While I worked, Jamal took the money and deposit slips to the various banks, making them appear in various tellers' cash drawers, and on their computer logs. We needed to figure a way to transfer the money electronically.

`Scarlett and I will think about that tomorrow, Rhett!'

Jeff, Jennine, Maji and I had to drive up to Mosul for a major story, and I ended up doing ten feeds, one in each of the languages I speak. Back at the office, Jeff would send those with the cut-away footage that he, Maji and I shot during the day. Then another long drive back to Bagdad. Man! What a week! I just wanted to spend the weekend in bed, or maybe on the sands of Clearwater Beach, Florida – my favorite spot on earth. But I still had some work to do on finding a computer tech I could trust entirely to get my windfall automatically deposited in all the banks. Next week I want to get a couple more in the Bahamas. I also want to see whom Jamal hooks me up with. He's scoring a thousand percent so far!

Man, I was really rested when I woke up Saturday morning. I looked at the clock on the side table and it showed 6:00 a.m. That was strange. It wasn't my clock, it wasn't my bed, it wasn't my room, although the stack of money was where it always is. Then there was a knock on my door. I staggered out of bed, forgetting I was totally nude, and opened the door.

"Now that's the way I like to see you in the morning!"

It was Maji, wearing a Bikini swimsuit, tropical shirt and flip-flops, and carrying a beach towel. He walked past me and asked, "I hope I'm not over-dressed for the occasion. Are you going to the beach like that?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Arman said you wanted me to join you here at Clearwater Beach in Florida for the weekend. Should I dress down for our rendezvous?"

"Huh? Clearwater Beach? Jamal! What the fuck's going on here?"

Jamal and Arman both appeared – clad only in fishnet thongs. O – M – G!

Jamal asked if I wanted breakfast before a dip in the Gulf of Mexico, or would I prefer a brisk run down the beach and take a swim, before eating.

"You two hide this money while Maji and I take a swim. Do I have beach clothes with me?"

"Yes, you do, Master. Here they are."

My swimsuit was as skimpy as Maji's, but the shirt helped hide my nakedness. He and I found our way to the beach, and when we got there, the two jinn were in the water splashing around. I don't know if anybody could see them except us, but we didn't have to acknowledge their existence if we didn't want to.

We swam and played in the water for about an hour, then went back in to get ready for breakfast. We were at the most northern end of Clearwater Beach, where a delightful little motel was situated. Maji and I jogged down to the main part of town and found a nice little restaurant where we had a delicious Southern breakfast, like I haven't had in years. Soft over-medium eggs, two huge sausage patties, two homemade biscuits with sausage gravy, a big glass of orange juice — and hot coffee with more muscles than Schwarzenegger and Ferrigno put together. The waitress was all "Honey, this" and "Sweetie, that;" it really made me feel good - for a change.

I looked across the table at Maji and said, "I really needed this!" I knew Jamal and Arman could hear me.

After breakfast, we walked back up the beach and just waded in the water until we got our knees all wet, then headed back to the room for some rest and rejuvenation. Maji and I got in some "us" time as we took advantage of the "DO NOT DISTURB" card on the door.

Later in the afternoon, I wanted to take Maji somewhere he would never have experienced before – Joe's Crab Shack. I gave Jamal a choice – arrange a car for us or deliver us to my favorite Clearwater restaurant. He selected the latter. We showered, dressed in casual clothes and a moment later were at the edge of the parking lot at Joe's Crab Shack right by the causeway into Tampa. If you know the restaurant, you know the atmosphere and food; if not, try it sometime.

{This is not a paid testimonial – just a personal comment!}

After dinner, we reappeared in our room to walk down the beach, watching the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico. We sat on the sand and shared some "us" time, as two lovers should. Since for us this was the middle of the night by our body-clocks, we went to bed to cuddle, snuggle, and just enjoy the feeling of a hard body against a hard body.

The next morning, we walked into town for breakfast, then back up the beach at the waters' edge. Some more "us" time in the room {read that as in the bed}, then we needed to transport back to Bagdad. Jamal was responsible for getting the money into the cases for us to deposit in the banks Monday.

Monday morning, Bagdad time, when I went into the office, I asked one of the computer whizzes for the name of another ultra-trustworthy whiz who could help me with a problem I was having. I told him I wanted someone not associated with GNN so that there's not even a hint of conflict of interest. He said he would think about it during the day and get back with me tomorrow morning when he was on duty again.

That evening, Jamal and I whooshed off to the Bahamas and another banker meeting.

This meeting was at the Royal Bank of Canada where I was going to deposit one and a half million US dollars. My appointment was with Landon Ladue, who was a tall slender man probably in his mid-forties, very fit and quite handsome. We went through with all the procedures, then I opened the case with one and one-half million US dollars for the cash deposit. He asked an associate to accompany us to a counting machine to verify the amount. One million five hundred thousand US dollars would be my deposit. Throughout the entire meeting, there was no hint that he might be gay; Jamal must be slipping. He also asked me to have a drink with him after the bank closed, and I accepted with pleasure. Must be a tradition with multimillionaire clients that after you open an account of such an amount, you're invited for drinks and/or a meal.

Something I learned the next afternoon from Jamal was that my Tuesday appointment, Ethan Wilson, had met with Ladue for dinner Monday evening. His description was virtually a streaming of the event. He told me that I had just left Ladue when Wilson from BankAmerica Trust walked in.

"Ethan, over here."

"Donnie, there you are."

"Sorry you couldn't be here earlier, so you could have met my new client, the GNN smoking hot newsman, Grant Richards. He's just left."

"Grant Richards? Your client? I have an appointment with him tomorrow afternoon."

"That's odd. He said he came into a rather large inheritance. Maybe he's spreading the wealth around for security."

"Or do you think he's doing research for a major exposé?"

"You think he knows about the two of us living together?"

"He's not got any reason to suspect us of anything. We're doing nothing wrong that a major news network would want to blast gay friends, working for different banks."

"We don't share business secrets at home, but they don't know that. Maybe they're grasping at straws."

"We'll see how it goes tomorrow. Drinks and dinner with Mr. Richards tomorrow?

"Sounds first class to me."

 

The following evening/afternoon, I was whooshed back to Nassau for my meeting with Mr. Wilson. The receptionist at BankAmerica Trust ushered me into Ethan Wilson's office, introducing us.

"Well, it really is the Grant Richards. I was wondering."

I laughed, "In the flesh. How are you, Mr. Wilson?"

Ethan Wilson stood about six feet two inches and would weigh in at a good two hundred and ten pounds. He was solid as a rock and I was getting some arousal in the lower region. We shook hands and I thought he was going to crush my hand with his grip.

"Woah! Somebody just got back from the gym and is still pumping iron!"

"Oh, so sorry. I guess I was so excited to meet you I was over enthusiastic. Please have a seat."

"Thank you, Mr. Wilson."

"Oh, please – Ethan. May I call you Grant?"

"Of course, Ethan. I get enough formalities with top echelon people in an interview. I presume Landon told you why I'm here."

"You know I talked with Donnie? – uh, Landon."

"Ethan, I am a newsman. I do have my sources. And no, I am not doing an in-depth exposé on gays in banking. The real reason I'm here is to deposit a lot of money I've come into in a variety of healthy investments. My home account is with Bank of America in the United States, so it seems logical to put some of that money with your bank. I have here one and a half million in American currency to open an account with you. If you'd rather not handle the account, please refer me to another advisor."

"Oh no, Mr. Richards – uh, Grant. I'll be more than happy to handle your account. It was quite a surprise to —Landon and me that you would ask for the two of us."

"My source picked the two of you, not only because of your expertise but also because he thought each of you and I would be comfortable working together."

"Are — you — saying — you ...?"

"No, I am not saying anything. Only that he felt we would be compatible working together. Now, shall we take care of the paperwork?

An hour later, all the paperwork had been completed, the money counted, and the full amount drawing interest.

"Grant, would you have time for a drink with Landon and me? We like to relax a bit before going home, and when we have a major client, we can be hospitable."

"I would love it. I want to see his face when you tell him he doesn't need to worry about my snooping."

We both laughed, then left the bank and walked over to the same lounge as before.

Landon was already there and had ordered drinks for us. We became relaxed and enjoyed the company.

It was about 5:30 p.m. local time and GNN was on the television in the lounge. My report and interviews I had filed today came on the screen. That got both of their attentions. They could not believe I was on the air and sitting with them at the same time.

"When did you do that report?" Landon asked.

"This morning in An Najaf. We're required to have our reports finished and sent to editing in time to be included in the five or six o'clock news United States Eastern Time. The story I did yesterday morning was on last night's news."

"I don't understand," Ethan said. "You were in Iraq yesterday morning and this morning, then here each afternoon?"

"How about a private jet, where I can eat, sleep, refresh myself while flying? I can afford it now, you know."

"Of course, you can," they both said in sync.

We all laughed. I told them I needed to head back to my real work since my work here is finished. I thanked them for their hospitality, and they had my contact number should they need me for anything. Then I left, walked around the corner, and disappeared.

* * * * * * *

Friday night, we did a live interview with Dave Lowell at GNN in New York. It was 1:00 a.m. here in Bagdad when it was 6:00 p.m. there on the east coast. We did the feed from the balcony of our hotel which gave us a great background to talk about the fire bombings taking place around Bagdad. The interview went very well; Jeff had given me the questions Dave was going to ask, as I had sent him the questions I thought were pertinent for the situation from my perspective. The entire feed lasted about forty-five minutes without any commercial breaks.

{They probably ran spots for the next fifteen minutes. LOL}

Jeff and Jennine went back to their respective rooms, but Maji stayed with me. We crashed — and slept until about nine o'clock Saturday morning. We dressed and went downstairs for a late breakfast. Then back to the room to pack up the camera gear for Maji to go home. Arman and Jamal were there when we got back taking advantage of the unused bed for their own "us" time together. They popped out of sight as we opened the door, then became visible again when they realized it was us. Almost immediately, they said in unison: "Visitor outside," then disappeared again.

There was a knock on the door, and when I opened it there stood Dildar.

"What are you doing here?" Maji asked.

"I rode down with a friend to spend the weekend with you. Your dad said you spent the night working here and the desk attendant said you two had just come back up here after breakfast. So, I am here," he said, smiling.

I opened my arms as I said, "Well, give us a hug! Hand-shakes are too formal for family."

"How can you be our family if you can't be married?" he asked.

"Maji and I have been working together very closely for the last few months. We have become very good friends, and when we're working, we almost know what the other is thinking. At times, all I need to do is roll my eyes in a direction and he changes the camera angle to where I want it. Then he knows when I want it back on me. Frequently we look for the same shots to tell our story. I often feel that Maji is the brother I never had. I am that fond of him, and I don't mind saying so. Capeesh?"

"I think so."

"But?"

"I don't want to ask this ...."

"That's up to you — but consider that we are alone in this room and neither of us will broadcast anything that is said here. As newsmen, our sources of information are always confidential, when necessary," Maji assured him. "Are you here to learn some information about us that you will share with some government official?

"Oh no, Majid! I swear on our grandfather's grave that is not what I want."

"Not what you want to do, or what you must do?"

"Dildar, do you want to ask for someone else, or for yourself?" I asked him.

"For myself, only. Nobody else. I swear!"

"Well, we are not going to answer your question, the one you have not yet asked," I said. "So, you don't ask — and we won't tell. However, you are welcome to be with us this weekend and draw your own conclusions. Just please do not tell anyone what those conclusions are. If anyone should ask you, or insist that you accuse us of anything, you will not have any definitive evidence of a law violation." (Not that they need it!)

"We want you to have an enjoyable weekend with us and see us as we are together here," Maji interjected. "You and I will spend tonight with our family. So, are you ready to go somewhere for lunch? You don't get to the big city often."

When I opened the door to leave, Hassan was standing there with his fist raised ready to knock – or punch me in the nose.

"Well, look who's here! Our favorite room service attendant, ready to punch me out!" Maji and I laughed.

However, Dildar and Hassan stood looking at each other, both in shock.

"Dildar!" "Hassan!" Both boys exclaimed at the same time.

"Come on in, Hassan. You two know each other?" I asked, closing the door.

"I think they do," Maji said. "This is his best friend since they were children. They were inseparable through school. Give him a hug – and not just a formal greeting."

"Hey, give him a kiss if you want to — or not. Just be yourselves here," I interjected. They both backed away fast.

"Dil, are there any other questions you would like to ask us, before we leave for lunch?" The young man looked embarrassed and shook his head.

"Hassan, would you like to join us for lunch somewhere away from the hotel, or can you leave?"

"I don't think I should. I do not mean to intrude, Mr. Richards. Thank you for asking me."

"You're not allowed to leave while you're working, I understand. When do you get off work?"

"I work my own time because I only get paid what people give me for delivering things to them that they want."

"So, you can leave when you want to, just as you come to work when you want to? Am I correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then if I want you to have lunch with us, and pay you for your time, you could go with us to lunch?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll inform the desk as we leave that you are going to be our escort around town and will be back sometime this afternoon – maybe," I commented, opening the door and ushering everyone out, locking it behind us.

Downstairs, I stopped by the reception area and told the desk clerk I was hiring Hassan to show us around town for a couple of hours. He looked stunned but acknowledged what I said. The four of us walked out the door to find a nice restaurant nearby.

Sunday evening, after both Dildar and Hassan had left, Maji and I dropped on a small couch and we enjoyed some "us" time.

"Maji, we need to do some serious thinking and talking over the next week. Number one, it's time to put some of these millions in your name in the banks. You and Arman will need to come with Jamal and me, so you can meet the bankers and we'll open accounts for you. This money is our money, not just mine alone. You led me to the cave, and you put your life at risk going into the cave, so it's as much yours as it is mine. No discussion on that!" I raised my hand to stop Maji from objecting.

"Number two, make sure you really want to emigrate to the United States because the address I will use for your address with the banks is the same as mine, but Suite B.

"A third consideration involves Dildar and Hassan. Do you think they would be interested in emigrating also and working for us as couriers to begin with and then progress in the company we need to set up to spend this ridiculous amount of money?"

Maji replied, "Number one, okay. Number two, yes. And number three, maybe. We can ask them if they would consider it."

"Good! Now let's get some rest, you at home and me here, or neither of us will get any rest!" I leaned over to him and we kissed for a long time before he left.

The next day we had a series of interviews with a contingency of U.S. Senators and Representatives who are on the Congressional Foreign Relations Committees. This included Senator Howard Calvert Staunton, the Senior Senator from Maryland. He and my dad were very close friends ever since I could remember. It was really nice to see Uncle Cal again.

"Senator Staunton, may I have a word with you, sir?"

"Hello, Grant. I was hoping I would get to see you. Saw your interview with Lowell the other night, and thought it was an excellent report."

"Thank you, sir. Do you have some time for me to cross examine you — make that interview you?" I smiled when I used the legal reference with the former Maryland State Attorney.

"Of course, Grant. I made sure we would have some time together for whatever."

"Here's a few of the questions I will be asking so I don't catch you off guard. By the way, I want you to meet my cinematographer, Majid Mustafa." Maji walked over to us when I motioned to him.

"Senator, may I present my very good friend and co-worker, Majid Mustafa. Majid, Senator Howard Staunton, my dad's best friend forever, and still my `Uncle Cal.'"

"Senator, this is both an honor and an even greater pleasure to meet Grant's `uncle,'" Majid replied.

"Majid, it is also a pleasure to meet you, especially since you are a `very good friend' of Grant and not just a co-worker," Senator Staunton responded, smiling.

"Actually, I need some `Uncle Cal' advice and maybe some Senator Staunton guidance," I said. "Would you have some time before you leave that we could talk privately?"

"I think so, Grant. How about having dinner with me in my suite about six-thirty and we can be alone."

"That's wonderful. I really appreciate it more than I can say. Right now, I would like to shoot the interview seated in those chairs by the garden, if that suits you."

"Beautiful setting."

I introduced both Jeff and Jennine and we got busy with the interview. It lasted about fifteen minutes; the Senator left, and we shot the cut shots of my asking each question and my silent responses to each answer. Jeff was pleased the way the segment went, Jennine was happy with the sound and the background ambient noise, so that was a wrap! I could relax until dinner, while Jeff, Jennine and Maji got more video of the entire group. Our other crew got statements from the rest of the Congressional team for various feeds.

It was 6:30 on the dot when I knocked on the door of the senator's suite. His assistant chief of staff let me in, then turned to the senator and bid him good night. His Chief of Staff is his son, Howie, my best friend forever — not my lover — since he is straight and engaged to be married.

"This is a delightful opportunity; I've been wanting to spend some time with you; it's been too long since either of us has had any `down-time' together, Grant. The funerals went too fast and you were so busy, but I appreciate your asking me to do the eulogy for your dad. That meant so much to me."

`Uncle Cal' reached out his arms and drew me in a tight hug. He's a strong, robust and athletic man, so when he hugged me, it was a real bear-hug. And he held it longer than usual. Oh, he hugged me at my parents' funerals, but that was nothing like this. I didn't feel the pressure on my leg at the funeral that I felt this time. `Uncle Cal is rubbing himself up against me? I don't believe this,' I thought. `What is going on here?'

"I just needed to hug you the way I used to so many years ago," he said. "Come, let's sit here at the table so we can eat. Now, tell me what you want to talk about."

"Uncle Cal, I need Senator Staunton to expedite Majid's immigration paperwork to the U.S. As you can understand, from being as close to Dad as you were, what I feel for Majid. We want to open a video production company. We're both good videographers – he's an outstanding one – and I want him with me at home. At the same time, Maji has a nineteen-year-old cousin, who has a twenty-year-old best friend and they want to be together. I want to sponsor their immigration to America. I remember years ago you got a private bill passed for Mama's cousin to bring his fiancé to the U.S. from Holland. Hopefully you can do this for me."

"Can you afford the expenses to start a business like that? It's a lot different from bringing a fiancé over and bringing three single Iraqi men over," he replied.

"As you can imagine, I make good money and so does Maji. We don't have families to spend it on nor do we spend it on a lavish lifestyle. The network pays virtually all our expenses, so we've got a very nice nest egg to rely on. Like several million invested in various banks around the world."

"Several million!? Can I borrow a hundred to pay for dinner?" We both laughed.

"Gee, I'm a little short right now – maybe I could afford the room service tip." Big laugh.

"Let me see what I can do when I get home. I have your email address and cell phone number, so I'll let you know something as soon as I can," he said.

"Thanks, Uncle Cal."

As I stood to leave, he asked me: "Would you have some more time to spend with your favorite uncle? It would mean a lot to me."

There seemed to be a double meaning in his comment, so I put my arms around him and said: "Of course I can." Then I leaned in and he gave me a kiss, which became more passionate than I would have thought. His tongue forced its way into my mouth and we played dueling tongues for a while. He started to unbutton my shirt, then slipped it off my shoulders. His hands rubbed down my arms, which he squeezed, so I first tightened my triceps then flexed my biceps as he tightened his grip on them. When I relaxed my arms, his hands moved over my chest and played with my nipples, giving each of them a light brush, then a light pinch and finally he clamped down on them in a very firm rolling pinch. I gasped as the sensation worked its way through my body. I proceeded to open his shirt and began rolling his own nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. Slowly I increased the pressure on them until he was gasping as I put more strength in the pinching. It became a contest as to who would put whom to his knees; a game of `mercy' with nipple-pinching. He gave in first – although I was about ready to. He went to his knees, slid my pants around my ankles and began stimulating the object we both wanted stimulated.

"You're bigger than Craig. (Suck) Thicker and longer. (Lick) It's been a long time. (Suck) Trouble taking you. (Lick) Be easy with me. (Very light scrape of teeth down and up) Mmmm." (Tongue licking the `eye.')

I helped him to his feet, undid his pants and pulled them down, then kneeled before him. In front of my face was a seven-inch very thick piece of hard meat waiting to be devoured.

"Wow!" I said.

"Craig always said I was a hand-full!" Cal commented.

"I can tell already you're a mouth-full – even before you get loaded," I replied.

I went down on him slowly trying to adapt to the thickness. After several advances, I could adjust to the size and take it all the way to the short-hairs. When I was comfortable, I started playing with it, rolling my tongue on it and humming to get the vibrations to tickle it. Cal reacted just as I hoped he would.

"No more! No more! I don't want to cum yet!"

I pulled off him and stood up. Then I sat on the side of the bed and lay back on it, my flagpole at full mast. I opened a packet I keep with me and rubbed some ointment he had on my protected protrusion. He lubed himself generously and turned around.

"So, sit on it!" I commanded.

He lowered himself on top of me and slowly sank to the bottom. He sat there for a moment, then bounced himself on top of me. When he set the rhythm, I picked it up from the bottom. He watched himself in the mirror at the side of the bed and I watched his expressions as he rode all the way to GloryLand.

After several minutes, he got tired of riding and asked to change positions. He bent over the bed and I got behind him. After a while, he collapsed on the bed and I started plowing the field deep.

"Turn over, I want to see your face," I told him. He complied, and I raised both his legs over my shoulders. Different position and different feelings. I watched his face take on a variety of emotions. Soon I got the sensations in my balls that they were ready to release. I put one of his legs down and used my hand to bring him off. And a couple of minutes later I loaded the condom fully!

We lay there for another ten minutes while we caught our breaths.

Cal looked up and whispered: "A chip off the old block. You outdid Craig in the breeding department, and he would be proud of his grandkids." We both grinned. Dad will never know there won't be any grandkids, and in a way, I'm glad he won't know.

We both cleaned up, and as I was ready to leave, he said to me: "I'll get on the immigration situation as soon as I get back home. Hope to see you there sometime soon."

"I'm slated to leave next month and will have several weeks at home before I go on another long assignment. The guys will request visitors' six-month visas to go with me when I leave. If you would let the Embassy know you support their request, maybe it would expedite their being able to go.

"I'll mention it to them tomorrow. It's wonderful seeing you, and maybe we can get together when you're home."

"Tell Aunt Millie I send my love, Cal, and I'll call you when I'm back in the States. Good night!"

"Good night, Grant."

* * * * * * *

Over the next couple of weeks, Arman set up appointments with the bankers in Zurich and The Caribbean for Majid to open accounts with them. I prepared a letter of introduction for each of them to let them know I was sending him to them specifically. During that time, I had an appointment with the American Embassy in Bagdad to get the paperwork started to get visitor visas for the three guys. I met with one of the Assistant Secretaries, Jim Guthrie, to explain the situation and that he could expect to hear from Senator Staunton for his support of the request. Jim was amenable to processing the requests and indicated he would keep in touch.

I would have been glad for him to keep in very close touch because he was so personable and a really hot hunk! Probably in his late thirties, just under six-feet tall, and really a solid build; it was obvious the way his arms stretched the sleeves, his chiseled chest with fully erect nipples filled out the shirt and the waist tapered, neatly folded and tucked-in, a la military fashion.

About a week later, Jim called and asked when I could drop by to get some information about where they would be headquartered in the States and contact info – the usual red-tape stuff. I told him I could be at the Embassy about 4:30 in the afternoon. He said he'd be looking forward to the meeting.

I walked up to the Embassy entrance and gave the blazing hot Marine on duty my name, without the rank and serial number, so he ushered me in and called Jim. I was ushered into the office and was once again bowled over with how hot he looked, even with the Marine standing next to him. The Marine left, then Jim and I sat down. Jim opened the folder with the visa information.

"Grant, where will these nationals stay while in the States?"

"My house, 6600 Connecticut Avenue, Chevy Chase."

"That's on the Maryland side, isn't it?" he asked.

"Sure is. You know the area?"

"My family lives in P.G. (Prince George's) County. Will they be traveling around the country while they're there, and will you accompany them?"

"Yes, to both questions. I would like to show them some of the National Parks, Disney World or Disney Land, probably sometime at the Eastern Shore, New York – places tourists go."

"Will you be responsible for their expenses or will they have jobs during this visit?"

"I will be responsible for all their expenses, and any medical expenses, should they occur."

"What about while you're working? Will you be out of the country during this time?

"I don't expect to go out of the country while they're in the States. I have leave time accrued so I'll take them around. Any stories I do will be within the continental limits of the United States, and if I can arrange it, Majid will be my cameraman, as he is now. He is a GNN employee. I'm hoping he will be transferred to the United States permanently, but we'll see about that down the road. As for the two young men, this is an opportunity I don't think they should pass up, since I'm covering all their expenses."

"Sounds good. Do you have any questions?"

"Not about government business, at this time. If I think of any, I'll ask."

"Let's go get dinner and you can ask all the questions you want then. The answers will definitely be off the record."

"I rarely do sneak interviews. On that, I'm usually `straight' forward."

"Aroma? Mazaya? Al-Areesha? (Names of good restaurants in the area.) Name your poison."

"You pick it; I'm driving and buying! No arguments and no fighting. Verstehen Sie? You understand?"

"Jawohl! Yes, sir! We'll have to discuss the fight later, or at least a wrestling match," Jim said smiling big.

"Next time you're in DC, I've got the mats in my rec room, and you're on! No holds barred to submission."

"I can hardly wait. Your ass will be mine!"

"Dream on, Muscles."

Laughing, we left the Embassy, got into my car and drove to the Mazaya.

Excellent food and service. Over dinner, Jim and I exchanged a lot of information about each other. He is single and because of his job, plans to keep it that way. He never knows where he'll go next in the Diplomatic Corps. We did affirm our appreciation for the muscular physique of another man and that this is not the place to show it. I reiterated that my wrestling mats would be a perfect place to show that appreciation. He promised he'd keep in touch.

Majid got all his bank accounts set up and we started regular deposits to all the accounts, including our local accounts. Much of the money he deposited in his Iraqi account he then transferred half of it into his family's various accounts.

Word came through from Jim that all three visas had been approved, and the week I was scheduled to go back to the States, they got their passports and we all took them to Jim for the visas. I reiterated that I wanted him to keep in touch and let me know when he would be state-side. We gave each other a "manly" hug in his office and he gave each of the others one, too. Maji and I took the opportunity to twist his hot, protruding nipples through his expensive light blue shirt, that brought out the blue in his eyes.

The evening before we left Iraq, the Fadel and Hassan families came to Bagdad to have some time with their sons/brothers. Majid had moved in with me, so his aunt and uncle could stay with his parents. Dildar and Hassan were already staying at the Rimal; Majid could afford it now and he got the Hassan family a suite.

We made reservations at the Al-Areesha Restaurant for all of us: three large tables for the Mustafa, Fadel and Hassan families, then a table for two for Jim and me. This gave the three families the opportunity to focus on their own.

Jim and I got into a discussion of our years in school at Maryland University. We both wrestled varsity a couple of years, and pledged fraternities – well, sort of, for me.

Jim asked me which frat I pledged, so I pulled out a note pad and wrote down the Greek letters:

S F 0

"Sigma Phi Omicron?" Jim asked with a puzzled tone.

"That's not a letter. That's a zero. Sigma Phi Nothing!" I replied chuckling.

He laughed, stuck a finger in my face, and commented: "Any – more – jokes – like – that – and – your (clears throat and mouths the word `ass') will be grass before you leave Bagdad!" We both convulsed in laughter.

He and I decided to leave then. I asked our server for everybody's checks and paid with dinars, including a very generous tip. We bid everyone good night and told them to enjoy themselves as long as they wanted to, that I had taken care of everything for them. If they wanted anything else, Maji could take care of it.

Jim and I left, and each drove back to the hotel. On the way up in the elevator, Jamal whispered to me that there was a security breach in my room. In reply, I thought: `Show me where it is when we get there.' As Jim and I walked down the hall, I whispered to him: "Security breech, shhhhh" as I put my finger to my lips to be quiet and pointed to the room. I opened the door and started singing: "Show me the way to go home, I am tired and I want to go to bed." Then I flipped on the TV and turned it up louder than usual. Jamal guided me to where the bug was hidden. I carefully removed it and put it up against the TV speaker, then slowly increased the volume. I left it there for a minute then moved it away from the sound, took it into the bathroom and flushed it down the toilet. So much for the spies and whatever they wanted to get on me.

After securing the door, we both stripped to our skivvies. Damn, he is a beautiful man! Perfectly chiseled, very little extra but not enough to consider him "beefy." After checking out his incredible biceps, I ran my hands over his chest and got a head start on the "nipple mercy" game. He picked up on it as soon as he realized what I was doing, and he went for the kill. It took a while but I had met my match. He is one strong fucker! When I released him, he immediately grabbed one of my arms and twisted it into a hammerlock. As he moved his hands to go for a sleeper hold, I reached down and grabbed his balls, squeezing hard to get his attention. Jim dropped the hold and backed off.

"Sonuvabitch!" he exclaimed as he backed away.

"You're good," I responded, smiling.

"You're tricky, yourself!"

I just smiled, waiting for his next move. He was going for mercy with the hands and arms test of strength. We clasped hands and started the struggle. Again, I was no match for him. He had me on my knees and rubbing his package in my face. Then I was rubbing my face in his package, using my tongue to reach inside his fly for what it was hiding. He released my hands and I used them to pull his skivvies down around his feet. Nine inches of thick man-muscle slapped me in the face as he swung it back and forth. I grabbed it and licked the pre-cum from its Cyclops-eye. I ran my tongue down it as I took it in my mouth, working my way slowly to its base. Jim forced me on my back and sat on my stomach with his pole right at my face. I continued sucking on it until he pulled away and stood. He reached down and helped me up, then spun me around and put me in a Full Nelson. I put my hands together, picked my feet off the floor and my weight pulled him off balance and I flipped him over. I dropped my skivvies, stepped out of them, then sat on his face before he could recover.

He started kicking and I grabbed his legs and bent them over my shoulders, holding them apart with my arms. I leaned my head down and started blowing on his tightly closed portal. Jim was able to reach up and began tickling my sides and armpits. When I reacted, he locked his feet around my head and pulled me over on top of him, my face right at his crotch and my crotch in his face; ah-ha! my favorite 69, double head scissors position. We took that to mean we could orally use whatever happened to pop up!

As we both took advantage of the other's love muscle, I could feel myself ready to expel my load.

"Do you want a mouth-full?" I asked.

"You're about to get your own, if you want it."

"Lem'me have it!

"Lay it on me!

And we did. After resting a bit, we turned around to hold each other and share the residue of our mutual voluminous explosions.

"I'm looking forward to a return match when you get back home," I told Jim.

"Me, too. I haven't had that much fun since I was home two – three – four years ago," he replied. "Now I have something to look forward to when I take some leave over Christmas."

"You're hereby invited to spend Christmas and New Year's with us, or at least some time at our place. You know where we'll be."

"You got it, bro," Jim said as he leaned in for a good-bye kiss.

We dressed, hugged and kissed again before I opened the door for him to leave.

* * * * * * *

Maji and I slept fitfully that night because of all the excitement. Our private flight to Geneva didn't leave until late morning where I had arranged for First Class tickets for the four of us to Washington on Swissair. When we got back to our room after breakfast, the phone was ringing. It was Jim; he wanted me to stop by the Embassy and get a dispatch for the State Department from him. He gave me a letter saying that I was carrying an official State Department envelope which was marked and sealed for getting through Customs in both Switzerland and the U.S.A. He had placed a call to the directors of both countries' customs office and received verbal clearance for me to carry it. The letter included the names and phone numbers of the big bosses for verification. I had no idea what it could be — but said big bosses had notified their line agents to look for me and what I would be carrying. The four of us passed through almost as if we had diplomatic clearance. Passports checked, visas verified, "Thank you very much and enjoy your trip!"

The limo was waiting for us when we landed, although it still took forever to get our luggage, but finally we were headed into DC and out Connecticut Avenue. Almost home! Thank God. I really got excited when we drove around Chevy Chase Circle. Then Home at Last!