πŸ“˜ The Life of Giving (Part 7)

Nov 11, 2019

Weeks have gone by and I was talking to Hassan almost on a daily basis. We would meet now and then and just talk about how our day was and what new has happened since we saw each other. It was all platonic. But there was always a small spark that couldn’t be easily ignored really and the spark grew and grew ever since we first met and since Hassan put it out there as a possibility, but was very respective of me and my time needed to decide what I really want to pursue. In a way, he even encouraged me to give Samer a shot and has given some ideas on how to improve what seemed to be broken.
I started to feel much more relaxed around him and have given him much more details about my current sex life. He seemed to be very interested in knowing more, but then again, who wouldn’t be? It is a pretty weird and hot story.

At home, things with Samer did improve a little bit, as I used some advice that Hassan gave me, but still, it felt like one step forward and one step back. Samer was really quick to react and went from 0 to 100 real fast. At one point we’re drinking coffee and at another, we are fighting about what I said 2 months ago; and that’s on good days. Bad days means that he just ignores me for no reason whatsoever. He often comes to me for sex and uses me for it, but now it really feels like he is just constantly somewhere else in his mind and just uses my body for getting off. He is not trying to dominate me anymore. I guess he either got used to me being willing or he just didn’t care anymore. More than anything, I felt a bit used for a place to live and to sleep rather than as being used for sex.
I have suggested a language course to him, which he didn’t want to do. I asked him if he wants to get a job and move to a bigger place, he wasn’t showing much of an interest as well. He seemed fine with how things were, but at the same time, it seemed like he wanted more for him and his life long term.

After my last coffee with Hassan, I finally gathered the strength to have a serious talk and ask him what is wrong. Worst case scenario, he would get angry and angrily rape me. Not so bad after all. But I had no idea how bad it can actually get, until he finally opened up and told me what is going on.
Samer: “I am getting married.” – he said in an ice cold manner.
Me: “Sorry? What?” – I asked thoroughly shocked.
Samer: “I’ve met a Muslim man on the market the other day, he sells fruit. And he told me he has a daughter that is not married and offered it to me as an idea. They are all born here and have European passports.”
Me: “You’re joking, right?” – I asked hoping it was a joke, even though he rarely jokes.
Samer: “No. Yesterday after yu and I had sex, I realized it is the right thing to do. I want a normal life… Not this. I want to have a family, a life, do something with myself and be a man. Not a gay.”
Me: “So yesterday was your last day as gay?” – I asked ironically.
Samer: “I was never gay, I just fucked.”
Me: “OK, I hope you realize it is time for you to pick up your stuff and move to your future wife, baby machine, passport printer, whatever you want to call her. I wish you a happy life, whatever you consider happiness.” – I got really nervous and started to tear up.
Samer: “Happy… I can’t be happy and get what I need. Whatever. I will go.”


As he said that, I just left the apartment. I couldn’t watch him picking his stuff up, packing the bag and leaving. Not after everything we’ve been through. And for a woman, for a passport, for a child. I love him with all my heart, but I hate him with my entire soul right now. I couldn’t breathe, an anxiety attack hit me hard. I was losing the only man who ever really understood me. It’s a cultural thing, it’s a religion thing. I cannot beat it. I am weak and I am nobody.
My hands were shaking as I took my phone out and called Hassan.

Me: “It’s over. Samer and I are done.” – I said through tears.
Hassan: “I am so sorry to hear you cry about him, please, let’s meet for a drink. There is nothing coffee can’t solve.”
Me: “Screw coffee, I can’t go anywhere. I am breaking down, sitting on a bench, people looking at me in shock thinking I’m on drugs or something.”
Hassan: “I’ll be there in 10 minutes, send me your address.”

Ten minutes after, a taxi stops nearby and Hassan comes out of the car. Just seeing him approaching me, I suddenly feel much better. He knows what I’ve been going through and he understands.
He takes my hand and leads me towards the car.

Hassan: “You can’t stay here, come over to my place, let him do his thing and come back tomorrow. My home is your home.”

After an oddly quiet ride, we finally stop in front of an apartment building and go to his apartment.

Hassan: “Coffee, tea?”
Me: “Just water, thanks.”
Hassan: “Sure, coming right up.” – he says and goes to fill out a glass.
Hassan: “Tell me what happened… If you feel ready to speak about it.”
Me: “Well…”

After an hour or so of explaining to him how it all went down, he comes to sit near me and gives me a hug. Feeling his hairy hands hugging my body made me instantly feel safe.

Hassan: “You’re a great guy… I just wish he had seen it and respected you for it. I would have enjoyed every minute he had with you, and would never let you go so easily…”
Me: “Somehow it always comes to the good old fact that good guys come last. And I am always last.”
Hassan: “Just because you picked the wrong guy this time, doesn’t mean it will always be like this.”
Me: “Well, what will it be like then?”

Hassan moved his face closer to mine. His beautiful thick beard and his wonderful mysterious eyes were closer than ever. A moment of silence and a deep look into each other’s eyes. Suddenly I feel his lips on mine. Oh how good it feels to finally be kissed again. His tongue softly caressing mine while he moves his hand on my back.

Hassan: “Do you want me to stop?”
Me: “Please, don’t…”
Hassan: “Do you want me to show you how a real Muslim Arab man loves?”

I push my hand underneath his shirt, feeling his hairy chest as he breathes in and out, short shallow breaths of excitement. Taking off his shirt was a green light for him as he instantly got really passionate about getting me naked. He undressed me completely and brought me to bed.

Hassan: “What part of my body do you want to see?”
Me: “All of it…”
Hassan: “No, you can only pick one for now, the rest you’ll have to earn.
Me: “I want you to take your shirt off.”

Hassan slowly undresses his shirt for me as he stands in front of the bed watching me laying completely naked.

Hassan: “Touch yourself while you look at my naked torso.”

I start to touch my nipples and slowly move my hand between my legs.

Hassan: “Tell me what you like about what you see.”
Me: “I like your hairy chest.”
Hassan: “You like a real man?”
Me: “Yes.”
Hassan: “You like an Arab man?”
Me: “Ohhh yes…”
Hassan: “You like a Muslim man?”
Me: “Mmmmmm, I really do…”

Hassan grins for a moment and leaves the room. I am completely puzzled by what is happening now. Soon after that he enters the room again, wearing his thawb robe and taqiyah hat.


Hassan: “Do you want to suck a Muslim dick that is under this robe?” – he asks as he slowly approaches the headboard of the bed.
Hassan: “Do you want to taste it? It’s halal.”

I pulled his robe up a bit and exposed his beautiful dark circumcised dick.

Me: “You have such a beautiful dick.”
Hassan: “Well how about you put it in your mouth and enjoy it?” – he asked while pushing my head down on his hard dick.

I was sucking him off and touching his balls. He moaned in pleasure as he caressed my hair. His hairy crotch and balls drove me crazy.

Hassan: “Take my balls in your mouth, boy.”

His balls were so hard, I barely got them in my mouth. He was extremely excited about this scenario and so was I. Slowly I moved my hands up from his knees to his hairy ass cheeks and started sucking on his balls even harder. As I released his balls from the grip of my mouth, I spat in my hand and began jerking him off. I looked him in the eyes while massaging his dick and I moved my finger on his butthole. As he felt the finger there, he clutched his ass and then released, giving me a slight indication to proceed. I put his dick in my mouth again and pushed it down my throat at the same time as I pushed my finger in his ass.

Hassan: “Mmmmm oooohhh yeahhhhh…”

I started to massage his prostate as I intensively started to suck his dick. He was shaking. His hands were going all over my head. He touched my lips feeling his dick going in and out, touched my hair, my chin, my neck. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. I’ve felt the pressure of his prostate getting really hard, as his dick got even more stiff. A short and loud moan from Hassan assured me that he was starting to cum and thick waves of cum confirmed just how much he enjoyed the blowjob. With his dick still ejaculating the last drops of sperm in my mouth, Hassan looks down at me and tells me to open my mouth and show him his cum. As I open my mouth he oders me to play with it in my mouth a bit and taste it.

Hassan: “Exactly, taste me while play with your small white dick, boy.”
Me: “Mmmmm…”
Hassan: “Don’t swallow just yet. I want you to swallow it as you start to cum, boy.”

His words sent chills down my spine and I could feel the pressure in my balls as the taste of his cum intensified and the smell of it additionally turned me on.

Hassan: “Cum, boy, and eat my Muslim cum.”

I started to squirt my cum all over his robe and his carpet. It was one of the most intense orgasms I have ever had.
As I finished moaning and gasping for air, Hassan helped me get up from my knees and gave me a soft kiss.

Hassan: “You asked how it will be like…” – he smiled.
Me: “I did.”
Hassan: “It will be just like this.” – he answered while caressing my naked body.

He took my hand and laid in bed with me. We cuddled as I fell asleep in his arms, listening to a wonderful rhythmical sound of his heartbeat.

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