Tuesday, 18 December 2012

Back to the sandpit



August 2008.  Am invited to drinks at one of the local watering holes.  After a fraught time getting a taxi, I arrive somewhat flustered to an awkward looking group.  My initial confusion soon lifts when I hear the blazing row coming from the adjoining room.  Out storm the professional, the lawyer AND the Frenchman.  Oh shit…  I make myself scarce, and return an hour or so later.  Things are quiet and I don’t know too many people, so I take a chair in a quiet corner and immediately find myself being cruised by a good-looking Lebanese guy nearby.  After a time, his friends depart, and he comes over.  We talk, and I learn he’s visiting from Beirut and staying onsite.  “What are the rooms like” I ask, to which he replies “Come take a look”.  Let’s call him ‘the architect’.

Up we get, and off we go.  Much action on the bed, the floor and in the shower.  He’s pretty good looking, normal kind of build and (as I will learn many Lebanese are), massively well hung.  The architect decides we should bathe together, so we do, sliding around on one another in the soapy tub.  To bed, and he’s all about rimming, licking and sucking, but no penetration at all.  We both shoot our load and I make my departure.

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