๐Ÿ“˜ A man from Amman (Part 3)

Apr 9, 2020 | 1 comment

With my mind on the breakfast that I was promised to receive, I barely slept that night, thinking also about how beautiful and special this trip turned to be, all because of Youssef. I could almost see him smiling to me again and again, like he did some hours ago after his surprise night visit. 

Not wanting to prove myself impatient, I decided to make that phone call at the reception around 9 o clock, the time I would go to the restaurant for breakfast anyway. 
“Good morning, Sir, what can I do for you?” I could easily now recognise Mahmoudโ€™s kind voice and accent. 
“I was wondering, may I have my breakfast in my room today? I feel a little tired and I would prefer to have some more time in bed”. 
“Of course, Sir, no problem. I will send your breakfast in a few minutes”. 
Oh, fuck the breakfast, just send me Youssef, I was about to reply, but for my remaining dignityโ€™s sake, I did not. 

I was ready for him. Ready and determined. I wanted him! That would be our last meeting and I wanted to have all of him. A knock at the door and I opened wearing just my underwear, a red briefs. I looked slutty. Youssef looked at me from head to toe. I could see his big cock bulging through his tracksuit, the same sexy slim grey tracksuit he was wearing two days ago, when I first saw him. He was already hard. He walked in, left the tray with my breakfast on a little table by the television and got back to me. 

Without saying a single word, he grabbed me from the neck, made me kneel and pulled down his tracksuit. Having him like that in front of me, I felt so little, so worthless, he was like a gigantic ancient statue of a God, a sublime masculine figure. I started sucking his thick cock, hungry, thirsty, absolutely crazy for it, crazy for him. Youssef was heavy breathing with his eyes closed, enjoying my mouth and tongue all around his tasty cock and balls, that I could already feel heavier. 
Suddenly, his strong hand landed on my cheek. 

“Stand up! I donโ€™t have much time”, he told me and he pushed me against the wall as he was opening my legs. I didnโ€™t care about the pain, I didnโ€™t care about someone hearing us. He was touching me, kissing me, his breath was like a hot Arabian desert wind all through my back, rubbing his beard against my neck as his head moved. He was inside me again and I was his wife again, even for a few minutes. He finished inside me like always, hugging me from the back for some minutes while softly kissing my neck. 


“What time are you leaving?” 
“I will leave from the hotel at 12. My bus departs at 3 o clock”, I told him, as I was watching him put his pants back on. He was still hard! 
“Will I see you again?”, I decided to ask, although I could guess the answer. 
“Maybe”, he replied hesitatingly and he hugged me in a very tender and romantic way that surprised me. 
“You have my profile, we can be in touch”. 
We gave a quick but deep kiss, he smiled at me and he left. 

After I finished my breakfast and packed my things so that I would be ready, I went out having in mind to buy a little gift for Youssef and hand it to him before I go. I had no idea what he would like or if he would accept something like this from me. But I wanted to do it, I felt I had to. Looking at some stores nearby the hotel area, I found a beautiful little leather amulet, in the shape of a crescent moon engraved with a fine arabesque pattern. Inside, it had a tiny book with sayings from the Koran. It was perfect! Small and discreet, spiritual, symbolic, a nice gift for him. 

I got back to the hotel and quickly sent Youssef a message on Grindr, asking him if he can come to my room just for one minute, but he was offline. Eagerly waiting for a reply, I was holding the little amulet in my hands tight. Unfortunately, time passed, he was not getting online and then it was time to go. 

Carrying my luggage to the reception for my check out, my eyes kept looking here and there in a nervous way. I couldnโ€™t leave without seeing him again, without giving him his gift. Mahmoud was at his position, always kind, smiling and well dressed. 

“Are you feeling better, Sir?” 
“Yes, I do, thank you so much, you have been very helpful”. 
“Itโ€™s always a pleasure. I hope you had a good time in Amman and also with us here”. 
I could not explain to him just how great my time has been in the hotel and why. For a moment I thought about asking if Youssef was there and if I could say goodbye to him, but then I felt it was not a good idea. 


Walking out of the heavy glass door of the hotel, something made me stop just for a moment and look behind. Mahmoud was busy with some paperwork as two more guests were checking out after me, but the door right next to the reception desk was open. Youssef was there, standing by the door, looking and smiling at me. I smiled back to him and with my left hand I reached the little amulet that I had in my pocket. It was too late to give it to him now, but while touching it again, I felt that it had acquired the energy that his looks was sending to me. A part of him, always with me, along with his scent on my skin and his babies inside me. 

Hours later, when I reached my next destination and managed to get online again, a message from him was waiting, telling me how sad he was not to see mine earlier in the morning. 
“Are you planning to come back?” 
“Not at the moment”. 
“Will you be thinking about me?” 
What could I reply to something like that? 
“Thinking about you? Butโ€ฆ I have you inside me”. 

Years after this trip, I am still in touch with Youssef, exchanging messages quite often, sending pictures to each other. And his leather amulet is always inside the drawer of my bedside table. He has another job now, a better one like he says, earning a little more money, always trying to take better care of his wife and two sons. 

Once, he sent me a picture of him together with his family. Always handsome, a smiling husband, a proud dad. 
“Your wife is so beautiful”, I wrote to him, as this was my first time to see her. 
“My second wife is also very beautiful”, he replied. 
“Your second wife?” 
“Did you forget already?” 

“How can I?”


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