I've been in this part of the Mid East for 20 years, first in the service and now as an employee of a company that contracts to the government. We work as guards and for the past 6 years we've been walking around carrying guns and guarding a neighborhood of bombed out houses from looters. Which is actually pretty funny. Unless someone discovers a thriving underground market for empty tin cans or broken pieces of plastic crap, there's not much of anything worth looting left.
Like I said, the neighborhood was bombed, either by us or by them or by somebody else, I don't even remember who. We're the suckers stuck here until they all fight it out about who's going to pay to rebuild. All I know is that it's hot here, there's sand everywhere, there's nothing green and even the wind is so dry that it feels like its sucking the moisture out of you. Most people think of the Mid East as "The Arabian Nights". "The Arabian Shithole" is more like it. So, I take my amusement where I can find it.
I'm the jerk who gets to train all of the new employees. There's nothing to do except walk around the empty streets so the training usually takes about 15 minutes and then I'm stuck with them for the next two weeks. Like I said, I take my amusement.
This particular day was close to the end of a training period. I had two newbies with me.
One was a tall, thin black guy from Detroit named Flood. He was dark to start with and after two weeks in the broiling sun he'd gotten a lot darker. Plus, he'd lost weight and was totally cut now, his muscles visible moving beneath his skin.
The other new guy was his polar opposite. He was a white guy named Dixon who was from someplace like Bugfuck, Idaho. He'd gotten tan and his hair had bleached in the sun but he didn't seem to have lost any of his farm boy physique. He looked like a piece of ripe fruit, like you could squeeze him and juice would pop out.
We were walking the streets, making another useless circuit when I heard a sound like metal clanging in one of the houses. Both Dixon and Flood looked spooked.
"It's probably the wind but we have to check it out." I said, just as the noise came again from a house right in front of us.
We quickly and silently went over to the house and peeked through the open door. We could hear the sound of someone moving around and see shadows from one of the inner rooms.
I motioned for the other two to raise their guns and to follow me as I crept into the house. Once inside, we could see who was there.
He was a native, about my age, dressed in one of the long caftans that they all seem to wear. He was moving pieces of battered furniture around in what looked to have once been a dining room/living room type combination. I motioned my two recruits to follow me and stepped into the room, gun trained on him.
"And what the hell do you think you're doing?" I shouted.
The caftan guy jumped, startled, then wheeled around to where the three of us stood. When he saw us and our guns, he raised his hands and sank to his knees, all the while jabbering away in his own language.
"What's he saying?" Flood asked.
"Put your guns down. He says that he used to live here, that this was his house and please to don't arrest him." I replied. The caftan guy had sunk down so that he was bowing to us, his forehead against the floor and I walked over and stood over him.
He looked up and started jabbering again and then raised himself up and started clutching at my belt and my fly. I burst out laughing.
"What's he doing?" Dixon asked.
"He says he'll suck our dicks if we let him go." I replied. I pushed the top of his head so he was a foot or so away from me, looking up.
"Is that the usual?" Flood asked.
"You need to remember that the young guys here don't get to date, some of them never even meet their bride until the wedding. They need to get off somehow, so the long standing tradition is that they take care of each other or they find an older man willing to do them. Most of them stop when they get married but it's not unusual for some of them to keep sucking and fucking other guys."
"There'd be a lot less nervous sheep and calves back home if we had that tradition." Dixon said.
The caftan guy had moved back over in front of me and had started stroking my cock through my pants. I have to admit it felt pretty damned good and I was already halfway to a full fledged boner. I noticed that my two recruits suddenly had lumps in their pants, too, and Flood was caressing his own cock.
"What's it going to be, boys?" I asked. "Turn him in or let him blow us?"
Flood and Dixon looked at each other and finally Flood said. "It would be a shame to turn him over to the troops."
Dixon said, "It doesn't seem fair, this being his house and all."
"I was hoping you boys would say that." I said. "I can't remember the last time I had a good suck job."
I pointed at my crotch and started to unbutton my shirt while the kneeling man undid my belt and unbuttoned my fly. He pulled my pants down around my ankles and I pulled my shirt back out of the way, then he slowly lowered my boxers so that my hard dick flopped out in front of his face.
If I do say so myself, I've got a pretty nice cock. The shaft is about seven vein covered inches long and then there's another inch or so of fat cock head. It's thick enough that most men's hands can't close all the way around it. I keep my pubes trimmed tight and I shave my balls so they look even bigger in my loose sack. All in all, most cocksuckers love my dick. This one seemed to.
He cradled my sweaty balls in one hand and wrapped the other around the base of my cock, then pressed his lips against my piss slit and let his soft lips slowly open and slide over my hot cock head. I could feel his tongue swabbing up the precum leaking out of my hole. Then, he slowly slid his lips down my shaft until my whole cock was buried in his throat and his nose was resting in my pubes. There's nothing I like better than looking down and seeing a pair of lips stretched around my cock shaft. Unless, of course, it's seeing an ass hole stretched the same way.
"This obviously isn't the first cock he's sucked." I said to my guys.
They were both standing there watching, pants fronts tenting in front of them.
"Alright, ladies, I'm not doing a show and tell here. Get your cocks out and get over here so this cocksucker can eat his fill." I told them.
They seemed to hesitate at first, then looked at each other and started undoing their flies. By the time they stepped toward me, there were two more big hard dicks swaying upright in the room. They each took a place at either side of me and with my cock still sliding in and out of his mouth; caftan guy reached up and wrapped a hand around each new cock.
They were some damn nice dicks, too.
Flood's cock was at least nine inches long and seven inches around, uncut with big fat balls in a tight hairless sack against the base of his cock and so dark skinned that it was actually black. You could see the veins covering it swell and deflate with his heartbeat. He had almost no pubes; they were trimmed tight against his cock base.
But it was Dixon's cock that I kept stealing glances at. It was around seven inches long, so snow white that you could see the blue veins snaking over his shaft under his pore less skin. His fat cock head was a pale pink, so pale that I couldn't help wondering if it would get darker and redder as he got sucked. His hairless ball sack was as pale as his cock and cradled a definitely man sized pair of nuts.
I looked down at the three prime specimens of dick lined up and said, "This looks like a cocksucker's dream buffet of dick meat."
