Open Sesame

By: Hank Horne
(© 2018 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

HHorne@tickiestories.us

Chapter 5

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.”

To be continued... 

Posted: 09/07/18