Holiday in Monastir

By Aihu Fist

Published on Jan 29, 2008

Gay

Monastir is a tourist resort close by the sea. Get the picture: White tables with huge umbrellas, keeping the customers of this seaside restaurant cool, while watching the rolling waves. The Italian lingo was in the air. Tunis was only a stone throw away from Sicily. Sicilians had no trouble courting the young Tunisians. They were all smiles and stealthy glances at their crotches. The boys knew how attractive they were and played out all they had in store to hook the sex starved horny customers.

I sat alone the whole day observing the scene from a distance. I did so because too many Tunisians only fancied the rich guys who`d spend lavishly all they had to lure the young men into their hotel room. It wasn't without danger to say the least. Officially under the reign of dictator Bourguiba no Tunisian was allowed to talk to any foreigner. And yet, no one seemed to care or be aware of it. A few boys frolicked around my table, but as soon as word was out that I had no money, I was left to entertain myself.

I got myself a nice sun tan sitting there in my tight swimming trunks. My long blond hair unraveled by the sea breeze got only blonder by the minute. The ferries seemed to have all the time to skirt the horizon. Little by little, as it got late, the restaurant ran out of customers. I realized I had been daydreaming most of the time and had forgotten about the negotiating for sex around me.

"You wish anything else, sir?" The waiter asked in proper French. That's when I woke up from my daydream. I looked up and met with his deep dark glittering eyes. I looked immediately at my empty glass and said: "Oui, bien sûr (of course). "Encore un Coca, s'il vous plaît (one more Coke, plesase)." "ça sera tout? (Will that be all?)". He said this in a way as if he something else in mind for me. I remained mute, mesmerized by his fat lips, radiant smile, and his long black eyelashes wavering. He leaned over to me and whispered: "you have no one?" I shook my head. "Don't worry, he said, "You will."

I was flabbergasted by so much of straightforwardness. I was quite shy, even at my 27 years of age; I had no immediate reply to soliciting young men.

He turned around and went for my Coca-cola drink.

I sipped it slowly while watching the haze covering the sunset. It was time to go back to my youth hostel where I slept in a dorm, and there was little opportunity for privacy. I put on my white shorts and blue striped marine blue T-shirt and left a tip on the tray. I waved goodbye to the waiter who replied it instantly with a similar gesture. I felt sun burnt in my face and even my thighs and legs had a new color matching my face. It looked kind of sexy, I thought.

Having been here only a day, I still had a lot to discover in the city. Street life was abundant with children playing until way midnight. But, now for some reason I saw no one in this area. As if they knew about the hanky panky going on here. Except for a few lanterns that lit the pavement there was no light at all. I had come all the way that far on foot and now I wasn't so sure anymore it I was walking the same way back.

Where was I? I stopped and looked around and noticed that all the window panes were shut. Maybe I ought to retrace my steps and follow a different route, I thought.

As I turned around a car approached and stopped beside me with screeching breaks. I couldn't see who sat in the car, but somebody shouted: "Hey, my friend why are you still here?" His head came through the window and I recognized the face as the waiter's. "Yes, it is me and some friends in the back." I smiled at them and felt reassured. My heart stopped racing.

"Get in, let's go to my home and have some wine. "

"Ahm, I don't know," I replied, looking at my watch. Gee, it was getting close to 9 pm.

"Come on, don't worry about time, we have plenty of it ahead of us. Jump in, and after I will bring you home."

That seemed like a fair deal to me, it was an opportunity to make friends, so I accepted and hopped in. In the backseat I saw four teenage boys. They had lots of fun it seemed, for every time I said something serious they broke out in giggles. The car moved on and the driver, who was the waiter, fired all sorts of questions at me. The usual ones, how old are you? Are you married? Why not? Etc. I didn't ask him anything. I was too intimidated by so many boys I didn't .

But the ride seemed to last forever and we left the city behind us.

"Is it still far, Youssouf?" I asked the waiter.

No, another five minutes more. Don't worry, relax, he answered and glanced at his friends through the retro visor. For some reason, my instinct told me that this was a very unsafe situation, but I ignored the feeling as I thought I was with friends.

At last the car slowed down and halted in front of a building. It stood alone and nowhere could I see or hear a living soul.

Everyone got out, so did I and waited for Youssouf by his car. I saw the others stuck together leaning against the façade of the small house. They wore jeans and some worn out shirts. One of them lit a cigarette, which he shared with his friends.

"This is my home," Youssouf said and pointed at the little house.

He plugged the key in the key hole and opened a double door. It was dark inside and it looked as it was only one room, a garage of some sort more than anything else. A bulb of 30 watt dangled from the ceiling.

"Come in, my friend, hang in there , and let's make it cozy here. He unfolded a few rugs which had interesting abstract design on them. From the car he brought us a few bottles of Tunisian wine, an oil lamp and a few cushions.

Youssouf closed the doors and locked us up. I didn't say anything; I thought it was a thing to do here. Did I know much about the area; maybe it was dangerous here, where he lived.

I was the only one in a pair of shorts and a very tight T-shirt through which you could see my nipples protrude. I had no shoes on. I walked in flip flops. I felt I was the odd one here, but I decided not to show it by talking a lot.

Let's drink to our president, Youssouf said. We toasted and swallowed the rich liquid as if it was water. We talked about all sorts of things, but the more we drunk the merrier we got.

I got tired and told them so. Maybe we can meet again tomorrow, I suggested. It is nearly midnight and my hostel doesn't know what time I am coming back.

"Don't' worry so much about time," Youssouf said again, though this time with more insistence.

"Have you ever tried some Tunisian candy?" He asked. "No, I haven't, I didn't know there was such a thing".

As it was, I was actually the central piece of attraction. At first I had chosen to sit near the oil lamp but now I found myself surrounded by five Tunisians. I sat in a circle, me and the oil lamp being the centre of it.

"Why, do you wear shorts? " One of them asked all of sudden.

"I don't know, I said. In my country everyone does on holidays or at the beach."

"But you are not in your country, the guy next to him replied. This is a Muslim country and we don't like it very much. Showing nudity is not recommended in Tunisia."

"But I am not naked, am I?" I retorted. "You can only see my legs."

"Yes, you have nice legs;" Youssouf said and touched my left knee. His hand remained there like an eternity. The other boys grinned.

"So, what about this candy," I asked, trying to change the subject. I felt uneasy, had no idea what to do.

"We have some here, but if you take it you won't sleep with it."

"Oh, no I don't want that, I rather go to sleep," I said. "This wine is giving me a headache; you have a y painkiller here, Youssouf?"

"Yes, right here."

I took the pill and gulped it through my throat with some more wine. My head started spinning and I asked if I could lie down. No one objected to it

We are tired ourselves, why don't we all hit the sack, Youssouf suggested. We'll leave the oil lamp burning.

We had no need for a blanket as it was very hot inside Youssouf's home. My head started spinning as soon as lay on my side, my head on a pillow. Two of the boys slept to my left and one near my head and two my right side.

Everything was getting very strange, I felt as if I was in another place, my body unreal, the floor unreal. My breath was getting deeper and yet my heart accelerated its beat.

I closed my eyes to find relief, but I it only got worse.

I heard my name echoing: "Jeff, Jeff ..." and then a crowd burst out in a roaring laughter. The next thing I was swimming in deep waters on my back in ammonia like fluid. My legs were raised into the air and my head fell back gasping for breath. A soft kind of massage I felt on my throat which helped me breathing in a normal way. Again I heard: "Jeff...Jeff..."

I couldn't answer; my mouth was so dry and locked. I wanted to scream but couldn't. I touched my lips and felt nothing, but a greasy substance that seemed to trickle down to my chin.

My legs were still in the air. I heard: Yes, like that, I got it, pull harder.

Something I felt sliding over my legs to my feet, and when I opened my eyes again I saw millions of flies crawling over my body, I screamed and yelled it out:" Get awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!"

The bee line of very dark ugly flies grew ever so big in numbers and sizes. They took the shape of a Python from my bellybutton to my groin. I was horrified and closed my eyes quickly. I couldn't move my arms; they were pinned down for some reason. I struggled hard but gave it up soon as the tickling of the millions of feet moved and marched toward my groin. My legs were still in the air, no doubt about it; I squirmed like a tortured soul in agony of something I couldn't grasp. Something was massaging my butt and it started to feel sticky. The insects' humming grew louder and louder, I wanted to hold my hands over my ears, but I couldn't. As I looked again, I only saw a dim light and flies flying around my head, they sat on my nose and lips; they got hold of my lips and pried my mouth open. The other zillion glued themselves to my thighs. The sensation of something burning between my ball sac and my manhole was horrible to say the least. The flies started laughing in pitched

voices at my excruciating pain when they filed right through my anus. Altogether they felt so heavy, as heavy as a body of human being. I was going to be torn apart, I guessed that much. I wanted to scream again but something was stuck over my mouth which after some minutes nearly made me gag. I couldn't even cough; my tongue was stuck against something soft and wet.

My knees touched my chest with a regular thump against my nipples. I saw nothing but insects all over my body, but they didn't hurt me there. I shook my head to the left and to the right; again the room was filled with laughter. I couldn't take any longer; tears welled up and run down my cheeks. My cheeks felt like marshmallows, like if they were going to dissolve. All of a sudden, I could breathe again, be it only for a minute. The flies who had no access to my body from below found a way in trough my mouth. They melted into one soft body, a constant flow of in and out ramming against my tonsils, but the softness changed into hard rubber that took hold of the cavity. My chin touched something hairy which tickled and took the forceful object's intrusive pushing to the background.

I had my knees next to my ears at one point and the pushing below went on relentlessly. Time was nonexistent. Near the end the flies accelerated the pushing. I thought I would become a fly myself. Now I saw the python body crawling over me looking into my eyes with fierce light coming from his. The body grew broader and longer. It drew near me and stuck its tongue out. It was ready to kiss me with its forked tongue. But to my surprise I opened my mouth to receive his tongue on my mine. They intertwined with lots of sweet trickles of honey drops. But those drops didn't come out of the snake head, I realized the head had gone and a long black tube hung over my face letting the honey drops leak on my face and lips. Again the laughs were present with deafening volume.

The tubes grew in number and the honey descended from all of them landing on my hair and body. At last the flies left my inner sacred cavity between my legs and disappeared. I was weary and fell in a long-lasting sleep. I don't know how many hours after the flies had gone; I woke up and saw myself still on the rug with all my friends next to me in an innocent sleep.Nothing was stolen from me, I thought, I had still all of my money. I thought of what I had seen and I dismissed it as bad dream, but happy to be alive. The sun shone right into the garage on my face. All of the boys were lying in their underpants, the jeans thrown behind their heads. I had still my white shorts and T-shirt on. I looked at the youngest ones behind me. I was surprised to see that even sleeping they had huge guns which obviously weren't asleep. God, I wished to touch them there. But I didn't dare. So I got up and walked away back to the restaurant and get myself a nice breakfast. I didn't want to wak

e them up; they had been so nice to me, after all. They were poor sods who could not even afford a proper house I thought.

I walked an hour when I finally reached the restaurant; All the while I had passerby's looking at me or at my back, children sniggering. I found it so offensive. Racists, I thought. But, I was in there country. It was only 7 am and yet the streets were buzzing with life, hustle and bustle everywhere. Going back to the restaurant was a measure for nothing, for it was closed. Opposite I saw another place which was more to my liking. I chose my table and took a seat. As I sat I felt the cold metal of the chair piercing through my flesh. Instinctively I touched the back of my shorts and to my shock realized it was torn vertically from where my bottom halves separate way to my crotch.

I had no idea. Now I realized why I was the laughing stock in the streets. I was very embarrassed. I didn't dare to get up from my chair, no more. The young man took my order and looked at me, then at my bottom. "A new fashion, sir?"he asked cheekily. I blushed and uttered some stupid excuse.

"It got torn just a minute ago as I sat down," I told him. "I can lend you a djelaba, if you like, and some underpants. My boss isn't here, just follow me."

I did. We ended up in the back room of the house, probably where he lived. The whole room was quite tidy and a nice aroma of incense made it so much more inviting to sit down. I stood in the middle of it all looking around at the many Arab items that decorated the living room. The curtain behind which he had disappeared moved and he came out with the Arab dress and a pair of briefs. "You can put them on behind the curtain, if you like, sir."

I took off my shorts and my torn underwear and I realized they had been cut up. The briefs he gave me were of pure cotton and I couldn't resist sniffing at them. God, they were his and unwashed. Instantly I grew hard keeping the briefs pressed to my nose.

I stood there naked unaware of the time passing by. "Sir, you need any help?" I heard the boy shout. "No, "I replied, while pulling the briefs over my bottom. Just as well, because the curtain moved again, and the young unblemished Arab face looked at me and said: let me help you get in that djelaba. I raised my arms and he got the dress over my head. My cock started swelling again. He could have noticed it, but he didn't say anything. I went back to my table and he followed me.

"You look fine in it sir, like a real Arab. I am sure in this you will be the toast of all the men, here."

I was shocked to hear him say that. But, I wouldn't comment on that. I pretended not to understand what he said. After my meal I took a taxi back to the hostel. I saw the driver observe me through the retro visor. We crossed a kind of deserted wasteland, and me thinking we were still on our way to my hostel, when the car abruptly stopped. The driver turned around and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Get out," he said. "But this is not me hostel," I protested. "Get out," he said once more. So I did, the dress was actually impeding me to walk normally. I couldn't take big steps. The man was really angry and worked up. He got out himself and walked toward me. I stood there lost not knowing what the hell was going on. "You, "he said. You are a filthy zamel (faggot), he shouted at me. He slapped me hard in the face. I was taken aback by it and wanted to run, but I tripped and fell smack with my face on a stone. My nose started bleeding, but I had no time thinking about that as the man violently picked me up with on hand and pushed me over the boot of the car. In no time he had the hem of my dress hanging way above my waist, my face pushed down on the boot. "This is what we do here with zamels," he hissed. Next, he tore down my briefs and pressed his cock against my bottom. It was hard as hell and no lubrication at hand. I screamed, but no one could hear me. He fucked and fuc

ked as if his life depended on it. My head was yanked back and I faced a blood flushed face raging at me, humping me all the while. "Don't you ever dare to walk around in a woman's dress, he whispered hard in my ear. "I didn't know," I cried, "believe me. "Bullshit," he answered pure bullshit. And he came with loud cries and hisses. He pushed me off the car and sped away. I stood there alone, not knowing where I was and cried for hours. Why had I been so naïve? What was going to happen to me now?

Copyright by Aihu Fist

Any comments at: Aihufist (at) Yahoo (dot) com

Next: Chapter 2


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