The Life Of Giving : Chapter 2 : Just The Beginnin free porn video

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After a long sleepless night, mostly thinking about Samer and getting frustrated because he had no WhatsApp profile photo and I could only vaguely remember what he looks like, finally the morning came and brought more frustrations. What to wear? Does it even matter? What if he’s married? What if he’s gay? What if he’s a terrorist? Is it ok for a Catholic to kiss a Muslim? What if he hates the gays? But still, with every question that came into my mind, I just tried to focus on drinking that damn coffee and definitely not fall asleep during the 200km drive to his refugee camp. The drive seemed to have been so short because I was extremely anxious to see him.

Already approaching the gates with my car I see him behind the fence, smiling at me. I remember thinking to myself that I was fucking crazy to do this. He waved as I got closer with the car and quickly came to the guards. I had his release papers in my hands and my brain was working at 110%. But I remember how all of the questions and insecurities just went away as soon as I saw him just a few meters from me, with that damn sexy smile. Suddenly all was irrelevant. After the guards checked the papers and me giving them his new address, he was free to go. He approached me slowly, and to my surprise, gave me a big long hug! I was in heaven. Literally. He was even hotter than I remembered. His dark hair, his perfect smile, his firm body. And the manly smell of his skin… I could feel my dick waking up so I immediately broke the hug and shook his hand.

Me: it’s nice to finally meet you again in person!

Samer: my friend, I am so happy to see you. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or if you have maybe been joking with me. But you are really here!

Me: well, hop in the car and let’s go home then. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to spend another second here.

Samer: I can’t wait to get out of here, although I must say, I’ve made some really good friends here, and we had each others back.

Having said that, he waves from the car to a bunch of maybe five or six guys his age and loudly tells them something in Arabic language. Just hearing that sexy language and the manly tone coming out of his mouth made me shiver. I had to stop thinking about him sexually, he considers me a friend, and friends don’t prey on friends. I have promised myself to really take a step back and try not to interpret stuff and his words the wrong way, as I just recently did with that hug.

On our way home we stopped at a local restaurant because I was pretty sure he hadn’t eaten very regularly in the camp, and I helped him to find a meal that is suitable to his religious and cultural heritage. Given the fact that the restaurant had literally zero halal meat on the menu, he then ordered fish and fries. He was very reluctant to order anything to eat or drink as, in his words, he didn’t want to abuse my generosity.

After lunch and a very funny drive, we’re finally at the front doors of the apartment and he started to take off his shoes. Good God. Reality check: I’ve had like zero contact with Muslims so far, not because I hated them or something, but I literally knew one guy with a Muslim name, and he ate pork and drank alcohol more than a freshmen college guy. I guess it was too late to do the homework now, so I’m gonna have to improvise. I took him on a small tour of my even smaller apartment and gave him a clean towel because he wanted to take a shower. I was sitting on my bed in the room for what it seemed like an eternity when he finally opened the bathroom door and entered the room completely naked.

Samer: I forgot to take some clean clothes with me in the bathroom, sorry.

Me: Errm, it’s ok, we’re all guys here.

And boy oh boy was it ok! His dark skin, hairy legs, ass, hands and chest. His perfectly groomed crotch hair. And his amazing dick. We are sharing this apartment for merely an hour and already I want to touch him, kiss him,… I had to stop myself from thinking.

Samer: is it ok if I sit next to you like this?

Me: sure it is… Can I do something to make you more comfortable? Like maybe get you some fresh clothes from my closet?

Samer: maybe you can help me out with something… -he hesitated- … look, I’m not gay, but I didn’t have sex in a long time… and I have seen the gay flag in your bathroom… so maybe…?

Me: maybe what?

Samer: I don’t know, maybe you would like to help me with this…

His eyes go down towards his crotch area. I cant believe this is happening, I can’t look, what if he isn’t hard and is thinking about something else. But what?

He stands up and suddenly his big hard Muslim dick is in front of my face.

Samer: suck it. I want you to suck my dick.

Me: are you sur…

As I attempt to finish my sentence he pushes his dick on my lips and repeats almost angrily: “suck it”.

I open my mouth and take the tip of his dick in my mouth and start to lick it gently.

Samer: no, bitch, I said suck it.

He forces his dick deep into my mouth, I can already feel it in my throat.

Samer: if you don’t want to suck it then I’m gonna make you suck it.

He continues to fuck my mouth and pushing his cock balls deep in my throat. Holding my hair really tight he starts to breathe heavily. I look at him and he slaps me.

Samer: who told you to look at me, slut? Keep your gay shit to yourself you faggot.

I mumble and start to suck even harder, I can barely breathe as he rams his cock in my mouth. I look at his cock, at his hairy body, and it excites me so much. He pulls his cock out of my mouth and orders me to lick his balls.

Samer: yeah you dirty bitch, lick those balls… mmmmm… make them ready to shoot…

As I lick and suck on his balls, he fondled himself and once again rammed his cock back into my mouth.

Samer: now you will swallow the dick, I will cum in your throat…

Samer: relax your throat you slut and take my man juice.

Samer: oh yeahhhh, ohhhh yesss

I could feel his dick starting to pump. With my throat relaxed, it seemed like he was trying ti drown me in his sperm. There was so much of it, it started going up my throat and on my tongue. I could feel his sweet taste. As he finishes, he pulls his dick out of my mouth and goes without a word to sit on his bed, leaving me looking like a mess, with his cum still partially on my lips.

Me: what was that?

Samer: what was what?

Me: this, what just happened?

Samer: oh this? This is just the beginning, my friend.

He takes his cellphone out of the bag, puts his earphones in and turns away from me.

It really was just the beginning.

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Jack watched as Lloyd calmly put the gun back into his jacket pocket, "There was no need for that!" He exclaimed angrily Lloyd looked at Jack with untroubled eyes, "I had my orders, to stop him from passing any information on." He said "But we needed to know who he was talking to? I mean what does Operation Golden Blossom mean? Obviously he knew about that but we don't. Now how do we find this out?" Jack said heatedly. "We'd just check what the last number dialled was, that will...

AnathemaChapter 2

Footfalls dance along the walls as the tall lithe woman walks steadily down the alleyway. She has her arms wrapped tightly around her body and her breaths come out quickly. Every single bit of noise, other than her steps makes her look over her shoulder. She realizes that it was a mistake to take the short cut through the alley, but her pride won’t let her turn back. Besides, she is nearly to the other side and then from there it will be straight home. The woman feels a gush of wind behind...

AnathemaChapter 3

Lights are flashing and a crowd has gathered by the time Inspector Farai Soria and Detective Wanda Parker arrive at the scene. A pair of Cueria police officers removes a barrier for their transport to pass through. It is quickly replaced and holding back several members of the crowd attempting to get through, journalists apparently. “There’s always a crowd,” Farai sighs with a sigh as she pulls the transport around. “People are also too curious,” Wanda comments with a shake of her...

AnathemaChapter 4

Donna Wilks stands over the body of Kristy York. She has just finishes cleaning the woman up and writing up her report and now looks over the young woman once more before putting her away in the cold storage unit. “It’s a shame,” she mutters to the cold corpse. “You were so young, too.” “Yes, it’s a shame they can’t live as long as you have,” a female voice says behind the woman. Donna jumps and turns around to face the surprise visitor. “Miss Quinn,” she says breathlessly. “What exactly...

MotherfakerChapter 2

The twelve mile ride to the mall was tense... at least it was for me. It was difficult for me to keep my eyes on the road with such a sexy little nymph sitting next to me. Once inside the mall I relaxed a bit. Shopping always has a calming effect on me. I could spend hours loitering in an upscale women's clothing store, especially when they had their new, seasonal fashions on display. After spending a half hour or so looking at skirts and blouses, Rachel apparently tired of hanging with...

MotherfakerChapter 3

After leaving the restaurant, I drove by the teen center to see if the dance was still going strong. It was. As I turned the corner next to the far end of the parking lot I heard someone yell out: "MRS J... MRS J. OVER HERE." I stopped. Out of the shadows I could see Rachel walking towards my car. I rolled down my window. "Hey Mrs J. What are you doing around here?" "Oh, I wasn't sure whether Megan needed a ride home or not," I said. "I was on my way home and thought I would drive...

MotherfakerChapter 4

I didn't awaken till almost noon the following day. I hobbled down the stairs, my ankle tender and sore with just a slight swelling. I felt terrible. My debauchery had reached a new low, an endless pit of perversion. I had committed the unforgivable sin, incest, sex with my own daughter! But, even now, seeing the image of her, a picture sitting on an end table, I could feel the stirrings of unnatural lust. I revelled in my sickness... the extreme pleasure it brought me was... was...

Whither FChapter 2 Monopoly

September 1967 You would think, Sylvia Jennings pondered just before getting up, that living with a man wouldn’t be that new an experience. She’d had roommates before. She’d slept with men -- slept with George Foster in particular -- before. But a live-in lover was different from a roommate. And sleeping with George hadn’t really involved sleeping; their relationship in bed had been quite active. Now, though, everything was different. None of her roommates had slept in the same bed. None...

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