The Saracen

By John Black

Published on Nov 19, 2008

Gay

The Saracen

Chapter 1

Sir Hugues, Duke of Toulouse, awoke slowly. His head throbbed painfully. His whole body ached. "Where am I," he wondered. "What happened?" He rolled to his side and winced. The shooting pain in his ribs convinced him to move more deliberately. His cell was dark. Was it night or was he buried in a deep dungeon? He'd never know laying there immobile.

Gingerly, he sat erect, favoring his left side. At a minimum he had bruised ribs. Worse possibilities flooded his mind, but he pushed them aside. His right hand moved to his head, hoping to relieve some of the pain. His scalp was crusty with dried blood. What in the name of all that's holy caused this? He tried to stand, but fell back heavily on to the straw bed he'd been laying on.

He glanced about the small room, discerning dark shapes, but no persons. He looked up carefully and spied a grated opening. Perhaps that's a window, he hoped. Again, he tried to get up, but this time much more slowly. Favoring his left side, he stood beside his bed and gazed up again. He could possibly jump up to it, grab hold of the bars, and pull himself up to peer out. He felt a slightly cool breeze flow over him from the opening. Perhaps, it was a window to the outside and not a dungeon. In his current condition with impaired ribs, he didn't dare risk further injury. He'd investigate later.

Subconsciously, he'd been taking an inventory of his heavily muscled body, his hands moving slowly along his bulging shoulders and arms, his long, trim torso, and down his heavily muscled thighs. His armor was missing, his suit of chainmail, too. So was his quilted padding. Only his linen undergarments remained. His feet were bare. Clearly, I'm a prisoner, he concluded. In a flash of clarity, it all rushed back to him.

He'd been in a horrendous battle. The Crusader army was being badly mauled. He had tried to stay close to the King of Jerusalem, but the tide of battle had separated him from his brethren. Sir Hugues had fought valiantly, but to no avail. He'd hewn down several adversaries with his 14 pound broadsword, but a giant of a man had confronted him and bashed him on the helmet with a mace. It must have been a glancing blow, because a direct hit would have killed him.

Now, here he was, in a cell, a prisoner. Surely they'd ransom him. He wasn't without property and gold. He'd sell off some part of his holdings and be home a free man soon, he hoped. That is, if they knew who he was.

Well, they must know. Otherwise, I'd be dead. Ransom for a live prisoner is far more lucrative than a dead body. Once more, he looked up at the grated opening. He stretched up his right hand and could touch the casement, but didn't want to reach farther as his left side stabbed him with searing pain. Best to leave that for later, he counseled himself, again.

For several more hours, he looked and probed about his cell. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Well, if you call a pot to piss and shit in "something", then you could also say that his cell was luxuriously furnished. The pain in his head had subsided though, so that was a blessing. But, his ribs still hurt like the very Devil. Even a deep breath was taxing.

One thing he did deduce. He was above ground. The walls of his cell were bone dry. A dungeon, even in this arid climate, would have some moisture on it.

Finally, the square of a window above him lightened. Daybreak was coming. Maybe, he'd know more soon. But, all he saw was one haggard-looking, old man who dropped some flat bread and a thin stew into a trencher and passed it through the door to him. There was no room to get a hand through and accost the man. He called out to him, but his Arabic was too limited to converse. His French was pointless in this Godless land, he told himself.

But, from an adjacent cell, he heard another prisoner speak up. "Your Grace! Is that really you?" a familiar voice rang out. Pierre! My faithful squire, the Duke smiled.

"Pierre!" Hugues shouted back. "How did you get in here?"

"Same way you did, Sire," Pierre replied. "I was captured."

"Are you injured?"

"No. When you went down, I tried to protect you. I was pathetic next to that giant Saracen. He pulled me away, tossed me to one of his men, and dragged you away," Pierre revealed. "You were unconscious, or you'd have gutted the heathen."

"Where's my armor?"

"I've no idea, Sire," Pierre responded. "They threw me in here before I could protest, or know what had become of you."

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Since the battle yesterday, Your Grace."

"I awoke in the middle of the night. I thought I was alone and in a dungeon," the Duke said. "Are they feeding you?"

"Such as it is," Pierre muttered. "Not much, but better than starving."

"I'm pleased that they spared you, old friend."

"As am I," Pierre laughed.

"I'm sure they'll ransom us," the Duke said, hoping to lift their spirits.

"We can always hope."

More days went by, the same food, no word from their jailers, no change in the hot weather. Weekly, the excrement pot would be emptied and a new one put in its place. Boredom was becoming more of a problem than anything. Sir Hugues could move about easily now. His ribs had healed enough that he could pull himself up to the window and survey what was around them. It wasn't much. His cell looked out over a courtyard of sorts, no plants, just dust. Across the way was another low building. Probably more prisoners in cells, he decided. He tried yelling across to them, but got no response. He and Pierre had tried to rouse other prisoners in their building, but they had been greeted with silence.

Despite the meager rations, Hugues was determined not to idle the hours away. He continued his physical training, using the walls and door as resistance points to keep his muscles tight. He pulled himself up on the window bars several times a day until his arms quivered with exhaustion. He ran in place to keep his legs limber and firm. The Duke encouraged Pierre to exercise too, but his squire didn't see the point. Pierre was discouraged.

Finally, after nearly a month (Pierre had been keeping track of the days), their jailer appeared.

"Your Crusader friends have battled bravely, Sir Hugues," the stranger said in passable French, "but, they have lost. Now, I can decide what to do about you and your squire."

"You know who I am?"

"Of course, Hugues. You are the Duke of Toulouse, a man of much property and wealth. If you cooperate, you will be ransomed and sent home," the stranger added through the door. "But, you must promise never to set foot here again, or you will stay in this cell until you die. The choice is yours."

"What of my man, Pierre?" the Duke wondered.

"He will be my envoy back to your home to arrange the ransom."

"Did you hear that, Pierre? You are to be set free!"

"But, what of you, Your Grace?"

"I think our benefactor will take good care of his golden goose."

"That I will," the stranger laughed. "But, more befitting your station, you will be moved to more comfortable quarters this afternoon. Your friend will go with you. After I have set the amount, I'll send him off."

"Does my jailer have a name?"

"You may call me Abdullah," the voice replied. "And please, don't insult my intelligence by trying to escape. You are in the middle of my garrison. You are the only one of your coloring within many miles. As an Infidel, you'd be immediately caught and beheaded. Let's be civilized about this."

Sir Hugues shrugged to no one in particular, but knew Abdullah was probably right. Without food, water, and the proper clothing, he wouldn't last a day if he tried to escape. A fool's errand, he told himself.

Meanwhile, they had been moved to an apartment with separate sleeping quarters, a living space with a table, and better food. They finally did see their jailer. Yes, he was the same giant who had bashed Sir Hugues in the head. He was a very black Arab, standing a good head taller than Hugues and even more heavily muscled and broad shouldered than the Duke was. And the Duke was renowned for his physical prowess and bulky musculature, but their jailer made Hugues look puny by comparison.

They filled their hours with polishing and repairing the Duke's chainmail and armor. Daily, Sir Hugues practiced with his armor and chainmail on, but always in the shade and only in the early hours of the morning. Without a broadsword, the Duke was forced to use a large branch. It wasn't the same, but close enough to give his muscles a good workout. At the end of the month, Abdullah was sparring with him. Each time, Abdullah bested him. Sir Hugues wasn't agile enough to ward off the multiple blows the Arab rained upon his body and head. Even with the armor off, the 60 pounds of chainmail made Hugues clumsy and slow. No small wonder that the big Arab had beat him so handily on the battlefield.

Within a week after their move, Abdullah forced them to discard their rags and bathe. The Frenchmen wasn't very keen on the idea, but knew they must do as their jailer directed. Bathing was something rarely done. They knew from lore that it only encouraged illness. But, their Arabic host would have none of their truculence and insisted that they bathe weekly or more frequently if they began to stink. After another month, they looked forward to washing off the daily dust and putting on fresh clothing.

The Duke noticed that Abdullah had always been watching when they bathed. He seemed to take particular interest in the Duke's dick, balls, and especially his ass. Abdullah watched closely to be sure those parts were well cleaned. Hugues was sure that Abdullah's large dick was tenting the Arab's billowing trousers on several occasions. As a test, he languished in the bath longer than Pierre did one afternoon. He leisurely dried himself off, being sure to bend over with his hard, muscled ass pointed at his jailer. Looking between his legs, he saw Abdullah grab his very large dick and squeeze it. He was sure he heard the big, dark Arab moan with pleasure.

When Hugues turned, he spied a wet spot on the Arab's tented pants. Hugues smiled. Abdullah was a Sodomite. Filthy, disgusting perverts, a priest had told him. Hugues had been warned about such people by his own priest when Hugues was a teen and his hormones were raging. However, he found that particular priest fucking one of the acolytes the very next day. So, he wasn't so sure that what the priest had said was true. In point of fact, when Hugues had been knighted at the age of 16, his squire had suggested that Hugues use Pierre's ass to pleasure himself until such time as Hugues married. At first, he recalled the words of his priest, but dismissed the admonishment when he recalled the priest buggering the young acolyte.

He and Pierre had been sexual partners for eight years now. Hugues had never permitted a dick in his ass, nor had Pierre asked to fuck him. Pierre was there to please his master, that was all there was to it. As soon as Abdullah had moved them to their apartment from the cells, they'd resumed their sexual trysts.

But, now, his jailer was interested in his ass. He'd have to watch himself in the future or Abdullah would ravish him. He would be especially vulnerable when Pierre left to seek his ransom and Hugues would be alone with his sexual needs and urges. Several times during military campaigns when there was no privacy for Hugues and Pierre to indulge themselves, it was only by mere chance that they'd been able to satisfy Hugues' needs with a fast blowjob before someone caught them.

This wasn't always about the Duke's sexual needs. Pierre truly seemed to enjoy their couplings. Most times, Pierre spilled his seed on the ground or the bed while Hugues planted his seeds deeply into Pierre's eager rump. The Duke had never sampled Pierre's creamy seed, but had licked the milky discharge from his fingers after pleasuring himself a few times. He found the taste pleasant, but was never tempted to try Pierre's. Pierre was beneath him. It was impossible to share something that intimate from an underling. It wouldn't be right!

A ransom of 50,000 gold crowns was to be paid within a year. If the funds weren't brought to Abdullah, the Duke would be killed. Pierre's task was set. Abdullah sent Pierre out with a dozen of his men and sufficient funds to buy passage on a ship to take him to Marseilles. There he would find his own way back to the Duke's lands in the southwest of France. Hugues handed Pierre a few gold coins that had been sewn into his quilted padding for his passage from Marseilles. "It should be enough to purchase a horse to get you home from Marseilles," Sir Hugues had directed. "Make haste, my friend!"

With a final night in the Duke's bed (and three loads of Sir Hugues' ball honey deep in his ass), Pierre departed the next morning with Abdullah's entourage. Late in the afternoon, Pierre's escorts returned. The Duke's squire had been seen safely aboard a trading ship bound for France. Reprisals were threatened against the ship's crew and their families if Pierre didn't arrive safely at his destination.

Abdullah shared the information with Hugues as they bathed together that evening. The small pool was intimate, but not crowded. Hugues had seen the Arab naked many times before and always marveled at the heavily muscled frame and thick, long dick and large ball sack that swung between his jailer's legs. More than once, the black dick looked bigger than normal. And normal or flaccid was nearly as big as Hugues' was hard. Hugues had wondered in a moment of fantasy if Abdullah's father had been a stallion. The man's dick was so big and black!

"Your skin is so white," Abdullah commented. "Even with the sun, your skin darkens only slightly."

"Yes, my skin is fair and it burns easily in the hot sun of your land," Hugues agreed.

Abdullah reached over and touched the Duke's chest, enjoying the hard muscles beneath the skin. He smiled when he noticed that Hugues' right nipple rose to a point. He touched it lightly, eliciting a sigh from Hugues. Many nights, Abdullah had listening to the pleasured cries of Pierre as Hugues pounded his servant's ass. Abdullah nearly always jetted out his load when he heard Hugues climax noisily, with the release of the Duke's blasting man juices into his squire's eager ass. His prisoners coupled nearly every night and sometimes during the day. Whether that was from being overly sexed or from boredom, Abdullah didn't care. He knew that Hugues was a man who needed frequent sexual release.

The Arab noticed the Duke's swelling dick beneath the water's surface. Emboldened, his right hand found the Duke's left nipple equally aroused. Another sigh of pleasure escaped the Duke's lips. Their eyes were closed, allowing the delicious sensations to envelop them.

Slowly, Abdullah rose and stood before the Duke. His monstrous dick bounced heavily, stretching out toward his prisoner's mouth. The more the Arab worked the Duke's nipples, the harder Hugues stroked his dick. The Frenchman's mouth opened in pleasure and Abdullah leaned forward, pressing his bloated dick between Hugues' lips.

Startled, the Duke opened his mouth to protest, but succeeded in sucking in farther the large, black dick between his lips, and pressing it to the back of his throat. He raised his hands to push Abdullah away, but the Arab's hands on the back of his head were insistent. Abdullah knew his dick was big and rarely swallowed by another man, so he carefully didn't press his male weapon too deeply. Hugues stared up at him, seemingly begging to be released. But, Abdullah only smiled down at him. With slow thrusts and withdrawals, his huge dick grew harder and wetter.

"Do not bite me, Hugues, or your life will be forfeit," Abdullah warned. "I know you have been fucking Pierre every day. You are no stranger to sex with another man." He released the Duke for a moment, but kept his hands on the back of his prisoner's head.

"But, I've never had another man's manhood in my mouth," Hugues protested.

"Time you learned the pleasure of it," the big Arab smiled. "And you must have had your dick in Pierre's mouth, eh?" Hugues looked down, not willing to answer the question. "I assumed as much," Abdullah concluded. "It is better when both men enjoy each other, not just one way."

"Pierre enjoyed it," Hugues defended. "He told me many times."

"I'm sure he did," Abdullah agreed. "You have a big dick and I'm sure your loads are large too, from the looks of your heavy nut sack." Hugues could only smile at the compliment. "I think it's time that you enjoyed the full range of sexual pleasures with a man," the black Arab concluded. He took Hugues by the hand and pulled him from the bath. The Duke's big dick pointed upwards and throbbed in time to his heartbeat. They walked into the airy bedroom of the Arab, and they lay together on the soft bed.

Hugues touched the hot, black steel that jutted out from the black man's crotch. It was nearly too thick to get his hand around and long enough to have more than half of it not in his mouth when he tried to suck on it again. The Arab returned the favor, devouring Hugues' throbbing dick eagerly. Both men could taste precum oozing from the thick meat in their mouths. The more they sucked on each other, the closer they got to climax. Hugues warned Abdullah of his impending climax, but Abdullah only grunted and sucked harder. The Duke knew it was pointless to resist the rising tide of pleasure. His hips pushed faster and faster into the sucking mouth on his dick. Hugues' body jerked as the first wave crashed over him and his dick fired. The dick in his mouth swelled and jerked.

Instantly, he tasted cum in his mouth, but he couldn't pull away. His firing dick had total control over him. Each time he sprayed another creamy rope of juice into Abdullah's mouth, his own mouth flooded with cream. It was like he was pleasuring himself with a blowjob and drinking the results. He'd often wondered what it would be like to suck himself off. But, with his height and musculature, that was impossible.

More juice jetted from his dick. More juice jetted into his mouth. He had to swallow before it ran out of his lips. Again he swallowed. So much dick honey had fired from the black monster he was sucking on. He focused on the big, heavy nuts at the base of the thick, black shaft. No small wonder he was drinking so much man juice.

Hugues wondered why he'd allowed his jailer to force him to suck his dick and why he'd swallowed the big Arab's load of juice. He's never considered that with Pierre. Why this man? He could tell himself that his captor was his equal and maybe he was, but more realistically, Hugues was captivated by the huge dick and the beautiful body that lay next to him.

They rolled apart to catch their breath. Abdullah turned around so he could face the Frenchman. "I knew you'd taste good," he smiled. "And you're very good at sucking dick, especially if this was your first time." Hugues blushed. Abdullah laughed. "I didn't mean to embarrass you, but you are good. And your white, muscular body excites me. I haven't cum that fast in a very long time."

Hugues smiled back, less embarrassed now at the frank talk. "I usually cum too fast, but Pierre doesn't minded. Most of the time, we don't have much time to couple, so it works out for us."

Abdullah moved in and kissed him gently on the lips. Hugues had never been kissed by a man, but the black man's full lips felt so good on his, better than any woman he'd kissed. He kissed him back harder. Soon their tongues were wrestling for supremacy, but more likely, scooping out pockets of cum hidden in each other's mouths. The big Arab rolled atop Sir Hugues, supporting most of his muscled upper body on his elbows. Again, they kissed. Abdullah's long dick began to lengthen again. It slithered between the Duke's legs and lodged beneath Hugues' nuts.

"You don't seriously think you're going to fuck me with that horse dick, do you?" Hugues declared with panic in his voice. Abdullah smiled down at him.

"Only when you're ready," he replied.

"That'll be never," Hugues insisted. "It's enormous!" he added, but allowed Abdullah's thick snake to slide deeper between his legs and rest threateningly against the Duke's back door.

"Perhaps," the Arab allowed. He moved down the Duke's body, kissing and licking as he descended. Abdullah kissed the erect nipples, sucked the sticky, wet dickhead into his mouth to clean off the last dribbles of cum, and licked and sucked on the Duke's nuts gently. Hugues moaned with pleasure. He spread his legs to allow Abdullah more access.

That was exactly what the big, black man wanted. He pushed Hugues' legs into the white man's chest and blew hotly on the Duke's tight puckered hole. Without warning, Abdullah buried his face in the Duke's ass and began to eat him out, shoving his tongue forcefully against Hugues' tight hole.

"What are you doing?" Hugues throatily demanded. "Oh, OH!" he moaned, enjoying the sudden spike in pleasure. "Oh, you mustn't! OH!" he cried, pulling his legs more tightly into his chest. Abdullah continued to service his white prisoner with his long, wet tongue. "Oh, yes, like that!" the Duke instructed, pushing Abdullah's head harder into his upturned ass. "Oh, do that!" For another five minutes, the big Arab ate out his ecstatic prisoner.

Finally, Abdullah inserted a big, wet finger and massaged his new conquest's prostate. "You like this even more, don't you?" he smiled down at Hugues.

The Duke thrashed beneath him, unable to respond. His swollen, white dick jerked and leaked on to his cobblestone abs. Another finger slid up his hole. "Oh, FUCK! I'm gonna cum!" the Duke roared. In a flash, Abdullah's mouth closed over the swollen head and he sucked hard. His fingers continued their massage of Hugues' prostate. He felt the Duke's manhole clamp down tight. A flood of dick juice shot into his mouth, telling him how successful he'd been. It wasn't as bountiful as the first load, but it was more than most men would have shot after having nutted so soon before.

With his climax waning, Hugues lowered his legs on to Abdullah's shoulders. "Amazing! I had no idea it could be that good," he crowed. "Is that what it feels like to get fucked?" Abdullah ignored the question for a moment, having gone back to eating out the Duke's ass again, stealthily pushing Hugues' nut juice up the white man's asshole with his tongue. He continued to eat out the writhing man beneath him as Hugues moaned with renewed and mounting pleasure. "You're so good at this! Do you give all your men this kind of service?"

Abdullah smiled. "Well, only the rare ones who deserve it." Once more, Hugues blushed. The Arab pushed leaking cum from Hugues' hole back inside with a finger, then two. His own dick was throbbing so hard it nearly hurt. His heavy nuts were begging for release. "Relax, Hugues," he whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you." The Duke had tightened up, fearing that Abdullah was going to try to fuck him with that monstrous, black horse dick. There was no way something that big could go up his virgin ass.

Or so he thought.

Pushing the Duke's legs back on to his shoulders, Abdullah positioned his huge dick against the tight, white pucker. He rubbed it against the opening gently, smearing precum generously around the entrance. "Just relax," he said softly. "I won't hurt you." He leaned in and kissed the muscular man beneath him as he continuously rubbed his swollen dick against the entrance to pure bliss. He'd enjoyed deflowering man virgins before, but this one would be his best. He'd always enjoyed white men, their muscular asses, their ability to eventually take all he had to offer before he tired of them and found another tight hole to seed.

But, this one seemed different. There was chemistry between them, especially when they kissed. It was like his soul was being pleasured and plundered at the same time. He knew in his heart that he could easily fall in love, something that he promised himself he'd never do with an Infidel! However, affairs of the heart rarely made sense.

Hugues had relaxed into the ardent kisses he was receiving. Abdullah guided his swollen dickhead to the opening and pressed gently. His steely dick overpowered the Duke's sphincter and he slipped inside. The thick, long dickhead popped through the opening. Hugues' asshole clamped hard behind the flared head. The Frenchman's body jerked at the sudden invasion, but he didn't pull away. Abdullah broke the kiss. "You're good?" he asked. Hugues nodded slowly, not sure whether he was or not. "I'm very close," Abdullah warned.

"I don't know if I can take anymore," Hugues allowed. "You're so thick."

The big Arab leaned into him and slid another inch inside. The knight didn't flinch like he had during the first invasion. Abdullah wanted to go deep and plant his seed, but he wasn't sure how much more Hugues could take. He withdrew to the head and tried to slide deeper. Again, he stopped after another new inch slipped in. With practiced strokes, Abdullah stretched and spread Hugues' ass tunnel until he had the entire 10" shaft and 2" head inside.

But, it couldn't last. Somehow, Hugues discovered how to control his ass muscles. With one squeeze, he pushed Abdullah over the edge and the big Arab began to spray the walls of the knight's ass with creamy nut butter. The climax overwhelmed him; he couldn't stop fucking or cumming. The pleasure was nearly enough to make him pass out. He shuddered hard with a final pump of dick juice.

Breathing hard, he kissed Hugues passionately, his dick still buried deeply. It felt like he shot as much cum up the Duke's ass as he had earlier into the Duke's mouth. He'd never been so deeply moved by sex before. This was amazing!

When they broke their kiss, Hugues was smiling up at him. "I had no idea it could be this good or this easy," he whispered lustily. "Is it always like this?"

Abdullah leaned in and kissed him again. "No, not always. In fact, rarely. I don't think I've ever cum that hard or that much on a second mating. It has to be you who inspired me so much. We are so perfectly matched." The big, black man let Hugues' legs fall off his shoulders, but his long dick remained deeply planted inside. A few minutes later, it slipped out, spent.

They lay in each other's arms for several more minutes before Hugues asked, "Would you let me fuck you?"

Abdullah smiled broadly. "Only if I can fuck you, again."

Hugues grinned. "Can I eat your ass like you did to me?"

"As long as you like," his jailer replied. "I love getting my ass eaten out nearly as much as I love to fuck a tight, muscular ass like yours." He paused for a moment. "And I'm sorry that I didn't fuck you longer, but I couldn't hold back."

"Just as well," the Duke responded. "I'm not sure how much more my virgin ass could have taken. You are very big and VERY long! When you were cumming, I was sure I was going to explode with the deep ramming I was getting from you."

Abdullah flipped over on to his stomach, presenting Hugues with a very hard, very black, and very muscular bubble butt. Hugues bent over and pried apart the black glutes and bathed the deep pucker with his tongue. Abdullah moved his ass back into the Duke's face, allowing his ass cheeks to spread more and more. He even assisted by using his own hands to spread his ass, so the Frenchman could explore his nearly virginal hole with more tongue action.

The big Arab recalled fondly the first time he'd been fucked. It was by his older cousin, Hakeem. He was much lighter skinned than Abdullah was and his dick wasn't nearly as big, but it felt huge in Abdullah's ass when Hakeem finally got it all in. They were in their mid-teens when they'd done the deed. For a few months prior, they'd greedily been sucking each other off. Abdullah was the first one to suggest that they fuck. Hakeem was not so sure, given the monstrous dick that Abdullah had. But, with yogurt as their lube, Abdullah successfully entered and nutted deeply inside his cousin. The same night, Hakeem took Abdullah's cherry.

From that day forward, they had fucked each other every night. Only when they had gone to war against the Infidels had their sexual relationship stopped. It would have resumed after that first battle, but his cousin hadn't survived it. Abdullah was heartbroken and vowed to kill as many of the invaders as he could. But, that didn't bring back his cousin. So, he chose to wring as much gold out of these white devils as he could.

But, this Infidel! Well, he was so different. Surely, he'd fucked many of the Frenchman's countrymen as well as other nationalities from Christian Europe, but he'd only used them, never loved them. He fucked them, used them, seeded them, took their money, and turned them loose. They were only a convenient receptacle for his man juice. How had this one gotten into his heart?

Such musing would have to wait. The muscular white man was mounting his dripping ass. The hard dick pressed against his black pucker and slipped inside. Abdullah willed himself to relax and push back against the invader. Yes, this was so good! It felt like his cousin Hakeem inside him, thick and long.

"You good?" asked Hugues. Abdullah nodded over his shoulder and pushed back against the slowly pistoning dick up his ass. "This is even better than Pierre."

"Pierre has been taking your dick for many years," the Arab responded. "You've stretched him out."

"You're so tight. Am I this tight?"

"I'm sure your virgin ass is even tighter than I am. Remember, I have a bigger dick to spread and stretch you."

"How could I forget?" Hugues laughed, feeling his asshole and Abdullah's slick cum that was oozing from it. He pushed his cum-slick fingers into Abdullah's mouth. The big black man beneath him moaned.

"Your ass tastes good," Abdullah whispered. "So does my cum!"

"Oh, OH!" Hugues croaked. "AH!" he roared. His building climax crashed suddenly over him and he began to cum. He plowed and pounded on the big, black, muscle ass beneath him. Taking this big man doggie style was so pleasurable. I couldn't stop fucking. Or cumming! This was incredible! Three times now, he'd had the immeasurable pleasure of spraying his nut gravy in less than two hours. Each time, it seemed that his loads were enormous and his dick couldn't stop jerking and spraying. Pierre had a very eager ass, but this black man taking his essence was far and away superior.

Abdullah slid down on to his stomach, pulling Hugues with him. The knight stayed seated as deeply as his 9" dick would allow, considering that his climax was waning and his dick slowly shriveling. He would gladly breed and seed this beautiful man beneath him as often as he needed it, even if that meant he'd have to give up his own ass again and again to get it. He kissed the man's shoulders, ears, and neck as his hips pushed lazily in a sexual motion. With each thrust down, the big, black man pushed back and spread his ass to take Hugues deeply again.

With a sigh, Hugues pulled out and rolled off Abdullah's back. He looked over at his friendly jailer and noticed a tear in the black man's eye. "Have I done something wrong?" the Frenchman wondered.

"No," Abdullah finally whispered huskily after a few moments. "I was remembering how much I loved my cousin who made love like you do. I still miss him."

"I'm so sorry that I made you sad. He must have been very close to you."

"He was my first, my first sex with another man. You never forget your first," he allowed. "But, he has gone to Allah and his reward."

"Again, I'm very sorry."

"It hasn't anything to do with you, although it has a great deal to do with your Crusaders. He was killed in the first battle."

Hugues reached out to him and gently stroked the man's face. "Your first love. That had to be crushing."

"And still is," Abdullah replied. "As you know, that battle was only three years ago, and I still miss him."

"At least, that was before my time. I only arrived here last winter."

"And you were lucky to survive the last battle," Abdullah pointed out. "I knew you were a man of some importance, so I decided not to kill you on the battlefield."

"And I'm forever grateful," the Duke responded. "Pierre should be back with your fucking gold!" he spat petulantly.

"In a way, I hope he never comes back...."

"So, you can kill me and avenge your cousin!?" Sir Hugues exploded.

Abdullah pulled the struggling knight close to him and pulled his face up to stare into his eyes. "No, so I can keep you for myself and love you."

Hugues instantly relaxed. "Oh," he looked down sheepishly. "You love me?"

"Yes. How could I love an Infidel, and so soon after knowing him? Allah presents us with riddles. It is up to us to solve them," Abdullah sighed. "I wish I had an answer for this one."

"Perhaps, your God wishes you happiness," Hugues suggested. "The priests in my religion say it isn't right to lie with a man. But, I know they are wrong when this love feels so right. Besides, most of the priests are buggering the altar boys, despite what they preach."

Abdullah laughed at that. "Yes, it seems to be true of all religions. The priests and imams say one thing and do another."

The following month, Abdullah's army was called upon again by the Emir to once more repulse the invading Infidels. But, all did not go well for Abdullah.

This story is a fantasy. Your life isn't. Play safe. Constructive comments to blackhunk33@yahoo.com

Next: Chapter 2


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