Jerry
By:
Will B
(© 2009 by the author)
Ably Assisted by Ed
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's
consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Jerry and Trace have been thanked by Sheik Mohammed Farouk for saving his daughter and, thanks to the Sheik’s influence and the fact that their tours of duty were over, they were flying back to the States in the Sheik’s private jet (which is manned by five of his sons). The flight plan called for a stopover in Cairo.
Chapter 4
The jet landed at Cairo Airport and Trace and Jerry were dressed and ready to visit the city where they had met and had found each other.
Ezek, the Steward, asked, “Sirs, we are due to take off in five hours. Is that time enough for you to visit any of your favorite places? My brother, Aaroon, wishes to know if you will be dining in Cairo, or should he have dinner ready for you when you return?”
“I don’t know. What do you think, Jerry?” Trace asked.
“I thought we could stop at the ’Hotel pour les Gentilhommes’ and use their swimming pool. After that we could do a little sight-seeing, you know, like that old song said, ‘see the pyramids along the Nile.’ But I think it would be nice to have dinner here on the plane.”
“You got it, babe. Ezek, we would like to dine on board the plane.”
“Excellent, Sirs. Do you have a preference as to what you would like to eat?”
“As for me,” said Jerry, “I absolutely insist that dinner include some kind of meat, some kind of starch, some kind of green and leafy vegetable, and some fruit! Other than that, why don’t you surprise us? Trace, what do you think?”
“I concur! Seriously, Ezek, whatever you can come up with will be just fine,” Trace added.
“One more thing, if I may, Sirs. I have arranged for a car and driver to take you to wherever you want to go and to bring you back to the plane.”
“Wow! What service! Thank you, Ezek,” Trace said.
Jerry and Trace walked down the steps and saw a limousine, with a uniformed chauffeur standing holding the door for them. “Good evening, Sirs, I am Ishkar. I will be your driver for the evening.”
“Thank you, Ishkar…. May I ask?…. would you happen to be related to Sheik Mohammed Farouk?” said Trace.
“Yes, Sir. I am his sixth son!”
Jerry and Trace looked at each other and smiled. They got into the car, and Ishkar got into the driver’s seat, and started the drive into the city.
“Trace, when we visit the hotel, do you want to visit the Playroom?”
“Actually, Jerry, I don’t see the need. We have our own private playroom back on the jet….No, let’s just enjoy the pool, have a drink, and have Ishkar drive us out along the Nile.”
“Trace, dude, I like the way your mind works.” Jerry reached over and took Trace’s hand and raised it to his lips. Ishkar saw that in his mirror and smiled to himself. He thought, ‘What a reception awaited these two when … they … heh! heh!’
Back on the plane, Ezek was making a phone call. “Hello, Ali….This is Ezek…. Yes, our father is in excellent health…. Listen. Ishkar is bringing two Americans to your place. Their names are Trace Mackenzie and Jerry Taylor…. Now this is what you’re to do … … … Excellent, Yes ... the full treatment.”
The limousine pulled to a stop in front of the Hotel pour les Gentilhommes. Ishkar got out and opened the door for Trace and Jerry.
“Thank you, Ishkar. Would you pick us up in, oh, say, two-and-half-hours? That’ll give us time to do a little sight-seeing as we drive back to the plane,” Trace asked.
“Certainly, Sirs, I will be here.” ‘If you’re ready to go back. Heh! heh!’ the chauffeur thought to himself.
Trace and Jerry went through the door of the hotel and walked up to the desk.
“Good evening, concierge. We would just like to use the pool facilities and have a drink or two. We will not be staying the night,” Trace said and started to pull out his credit card.
“Oh, no, Sirs. Put your card away. You are to be the guests of the hotel. Anything you wish is yours. There will be no charge for the use of the facilities or any food or beverages, and … if you like, we can provide a couple of 19 year old dancing boys to … entertain you,” Ali said.
“Well, no, just the pool and the drinks,” Trace said. “But how…?”
“All has been arranged by my father…,” Ali began.
Trace started to laugh. “Let me guess. Would your father happen to be Sheik Mohammed Farouk?”
“Why yes, sir. How did you know?” Ali said with a smile. “I would like to tell you, sir, that all of my brothers and I are extremely grateful to you for rescuing our little sister. Even if our father had not insisted on arranging for your visit, we, my brothers and I, would have seen to your enjoyment. Now are you sure you wouldn’t like to see those two young men. They are very handsome, very well endowed, and very….very… talented?”
“No, Ali, thank you, but as you can see, we are together, very much together,” Trace said and took Jerry’s hand and raised it in his, and squeezed it.
“Allah be praised. Allah is merciful. My congratulations, sirs,” and Ali beamed at them.
Ali rang a bell on the desk and two handsome young men came forward. They looked to be about 19, their beauty was ageless. They were broad-chested and muscular. Their legs were sturdy as oak trees. Their hair was black and curly, and their brown eyes shone. They were completely nude except that each wore a strip of cloth around his lower midriff that just barely covered his private parts.
“Gentlemen, Ali said, “These two are Sabu and Ram. They will be your personal servants as you get ready for the pool….No, no,” he went on as Trace looked about to protest. “They are merely here to see to your comfort, but…if you should change your minds…., oh, all right, Sirs, I understand.”
Sabu and Ram bowed to Trace and Jerry and said, “Please follow us to the changing room.”
After Trace and Jerry left, Ali made a phone call. “Ezek?…Ali here…as you suspected our two guests are truly a couple….They even declined the services of some of our finest ... er, as the Japanese might say…‘pillow boys.’ Yes…it is wonderful to see such devotion…Adieu for now.”
As Trace and Jerry walked to the changing room, Jerry asked the two young men about themselves.
“Sir,” said Sabu, “We are brothers, and we are working to earn enough money to some day visit the United States.”
“Do you have any family to support?” Trace asked.
“Oh, no,” laughed Ram. Our mother manages a hotel for …how shall I say, ‘pour la femmes de plaisirs unique.’ Our Mother lives quite comfortably, and she has seen to it that we have been educated well. She would pay for our tickets to your country, but she is proud of us for wanting to be independent.”
Sabu said, “Here is the changing room. Will you be wanting to wear any kind of swim suit? No?” (Jerry and Trace shook their heads). “Then Ram and I will sit here and guard your lockers while you enjoy yourselves.”
Trace and Jerry held hands as they walked into the pool and steam room areas. They decided to swim some laps in the heated pool. After that they headed for the steam room. They sat in comfort, happy just to be with each other. They paid no attention to the few couples that were treating the steam room as if it were their private bedroom.
After an hour or so, they went to the pool with cold water. After just a few minutes of that they decided they would go back to their lockers, get dressed and have a drink in the hotel’s lounge.
They went to the changing rooms and Sabu and Ram acted as valets. As they headed back to the lounge, they passed the ramp leading down to the ‘playroom.’ They could see men in a variety of positions, and could hear moans, groans, shrieks, and laughter.
“Miss it, love?” Trace asked.
Jerry looked at him, squeezed his hand, smiled, and said, “Abso-fucking-lutely not! After all I’ve got you, Babe!”
‘And I’ve got you,” replied Trace.
The lounge was furnished in a heavy 19th century style with dark wooden tables, chairs, and sideboards. There was a beige, sand-colored, carpet on the floor, and red velvet drapes at the windows. A crystal chandelier, all candles lit, gave light to the room. The entire atmosphere was not oppressive, but rather, it made one feel relaxed.
Trace and Jerry ordered iced tea, and Sabu and Ram brought them not only their drinks, but also bowls of fruit and a tray of various kinds of hors d’oeuvres.
Jerry invited Sabu and Ram to join them at the table, and after a little hesitation the two young men did.
As it came close to the time for them to leave, Trace said, “if you ever do get to the States and make it to California, come visit us. Here’s a card with my e-mail address. Er… you do use e-mail don’t you?”
“Oh, Sir, we do,” Sabu said. “Ram spends all his spare time at the computer reading stories a web site called tickiestories. He’s especially fond of stories by Gerry Young, who writes so many stories about the Middle East.”
“And my brother spends all his time looking at pictures and videos,” Ram said.
“Well, I’m only doing it so I can get some new ideas of how to please my clients.”
“Okay, you two. Since you use e-mail, please let us know if you’re ever in our part of the world,” Trace added.
As the two lovers got up to
leave, Jerry handed each of them a $50.00 bill. “These are for your individual
Travel Accounts," he said.
Sabu and Ram thanked them profusely, bending almost in double as they bowed and bowed—and bowed again.
Ali came from behind the desk and escorted Trace and Jerry to their car. “If you are ever in Cairo again I hope you will visit us again,” he said.
“Well, perhaps we will. We’re going to my home in California in the States. It was once a hotel,’ Trace said, “and we plan to open it as a hotel for men very similar to this one.”
Ali pretended to stagger in mock horror. “Sirs, there is no hotel like this one…heh heh…but seriously, I wish you good fortune in your venture.”
Trace and Jerry thanked him, shook hands, and got into the car. Ishkar was holding the door open for Trace and then went around to open the other door for Jerry.
“Where would you like to go, sirs?’ he asked.
“Could you just drive us along the Nile to see the river?” Trace said.
And so, the two were driven into the starry night. Because of the lack of heavy industry, there was little smoke in the air, and the sky looked like black velvet onto which some celestial jeweler had flung his stock of multi-colored diamonds.
Trace and Jerry just sat, holding hands, thinking about how happy they were, and what a wonderful life they would have together. After an hour’s driving, Jerry began to feel hungry. “Trace, can we go back to the plane? I’m kinda hungry”
“Babe, what a great idea you have. I’m feeling a little puckish myself… In fact, I’m starving … Ishkar, will you take us back to the plane?”
Jerry smiled and said, “Puckish, eh. I think after we have dinner, there might be a pecker that needs some attention.”
Trace turned and gave Jerry a peck on the cheek, then gave him a full tongue-dancing, mouth-invading, long-lasting kiss that left them both breathless.
Ishkar noticed this in the mirror, and just smiled to himself.
When they arrived at the plane, once again Ishkar opened the door for Trace and then the door on Jerry’s side. Trace pulled out his wallet.
“Oh, no, sirs. It has been my pleasure to be your driver. I cannot accept your gift.”
Trace didn’t miss a beat but said, “Ishkar when you next go to your mosque, put this in the poor box, or use it as alms however you wish. I insist.”
Ishkar bowed and said, “Then I do thank you, sir.”
Trace and Jerry boarded the plane. Ezek greeted them and said, “Dinner will be ready in half an hour, sirs. I don’t know what Aaroon has prepared, but it smells wonderful.”
Trace and Jerry decided to ‘dress up’ for dinner, so they changed into white shirts, navy blue slacks, blue socks, and black shoes. Jerry took the neck ornament the Sheik and given him and said, “Trace, wear this at dinner.” He put it around Trace’s neck
Trace put his necklace around Jerry’s neck, and there was some lip-locking that went on for quite a few minutes.
The dining room table had a snowy white linen tablecloth. There were red napkins at each place setting, and a red napkin provided a base for a centerpiece, which consisted of a crystal sculpture of a two stallions rearing on their hind legs and facing each other as if they were about to do battle.
Dinner that night was a stew that had lamb, rice, and various herbs that gave the dish a wonderful aroma--and taste. There was a salad of carrots and raisins and a dressing like none the two had ever eaten. Dessert was a simple platter of fruit. Since the Western digestive systems react rather nastily to the Middle Eastern bacteria, Ezek guaranteed them that all vegetables and fruits with a peel had been washed in bottled water, safe for Western ingestion. Then after dessert, he served cups of thick Turkish coffee.
Finally, replete with an excellent dinner, Trace said, “Why don’t you go and get ready for bed, and I want to send an e-mail to Andy, my manager in California, and then I’ll be in…. oh, hah hah, yes, I’ll be in, or something.”
Jerry went to get ready for…whatever Trace had in his mind, and Trace sought out Ishmael.
“Ishmael, can you set me up on a computer so I can send an e-mail.?”
“Certainly, Sir. My office is just over here.”
Trace sat down at the computer and sent an e-mail that read:
“To: andyfromindie69@hotmail.com, From: TraceM@hotmail.com : Andy: I am on my way home. I am sending this from Cairo, so I should be home in twenty-four hours. When I know a more definite time of arrival, I will send another message telling you when to meet us at the airport. Yes, I said us. I am bringing someone with me. …Now, you know we talked about reopening the hotel. Begin to make a list of what repairs, renovations, or restorations are needed. More later. Regards. Trace.”
Trace finished typing and clicked ‘Send.’
“Thank you, Ishmael… you and your brothers have treated Jerry and me like kings.”
Ishmael replied, “My pleasure—our pleasure, Sir.”
Trace took a quick shower and walked into the bedroom, his rising organ of pleasure already beginning to pulse. What he saw, rapidly increased his arousal.
Jerry lay on the bed with a towel over his mid-section. The towel was beginning to rise as if a tent-pole were being raised by none other than Omar the tentmaker.
Jerry turned toward Trace and raised his arms, his hands making clutching motions. “You want me, big boy? You want a piece of me, eh? Well, come and get me!”
Trace was not slow to take the challenge, and replied, “Hungry cocksucker approaching at two clock. Get ready for some heated action. Attack!”
Trace then ran and dive-bombed himself on the bed, removed Jerry’s towel, and lowered his mouth….
To be continued...
Ed’s comment: Farouk sure has a lot of sons. He must have been trying hard to have a daughter.
Will’s answer; Ahhh, but think of the fun he had trying! However, Gerry tells me that the Arab men are extremely proud to announce the number of their sons, but rarely ever mention the number of their daughters—if they mention them at all. Such is the way of the older and more powerful Arab fathers, keeping their wives—yes, plural—and as the red-necked Westerners would say—at home, barefoot, and pregnant, and never alone but always with other women and completely covered when in public. But little by little, times are changing—hopefully … for some.
Posted: 06/26/09