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39.somali encounter in london 1 and 2

Part 1 - the accident

I loved my new job, and the best part was getting to walk through London's
Covent Garden every morning, seeing all the deliveries and shop workers and
breathing the aroma of fresh coffee from all the cafes. But best of all
was that every morning at about 9am he would walk past me in Monmouth
Street, and almost always outside Box, the gay cafe. He was maybe late
twenties, dark skin, goatee beard, slim build and eyes so dark you could
see the night in them.

Every morning I would look intently at him and he would glance at me then
cast those fascinating eyes down to the pavement, then up again, then down.
Just enough to steal a glance but not enough - damn it -to hold attention.
Day after day this went on and I couldn't decide if he was interested or
just embarrassed. But he didn't change his route, so I began to hope. I
tried smiling at him, then winking and then wondered how far I could go
before I did something illegal.

Anyway, that Monday morning, anticipating our meeting, I decided to throw
caution to the wind. He was crossing the road as I was, so as we passed, I
said "Good Morning" and what an effect. He was so startled that he turned
and gave me a long look, smiling and not looking where he was going. Just
at that moment a delivery van pulled round the corner and hit him, sending
him crashing onto the pavement, unconscious. "What the fuck was that
about?" said the deliveryman, "he walked straight into me." Oh my God, I
thought, I've killed him. I called the ambulance on my mobile and within
minutes he was on board and I was too.

The ambulance crew was obviously gay, as they usually are in central
London, and they just assumed I was his boyfriend. I'd just had time to
see from a staff pass on him that his name was Abdul, and so off we raced,
siren blaring, with the ambulance man assuring me that he'd live, and me
getting the chance to hold his hand and stroke his face.

After what seemed like hours in casualty, they put him in a ward with one
other guy and told me to come back that evening, when he'd probably be
conscious again, and after they'd done all the tests. I'd no idea where he
lived, so I gave his home address as mine and would explain everything that

Of course I was nervous as hell when I went up to see him that night. I
brought him some grapes - corny, I know, but everyone likes grapes - and
found him propped up in bed, bare-chested, but wrapped in bandages. The
other bed was empty. When he smiled at me, I could have rushed up and
kissed him, but with a huge effort I just smiled back.

"What happened to me?" he asked. "How did I get here."

"It's my fault Abdul", I said miserably, "I'm afraid I distracted you just
as the van hit you. Are you badly hurt?"

"I broke a couple of ribs and my wrist, and they're checking the other
bits, but I think I'm alright otherwise. But how do you know my name?"

"I picked up your wallet and saw a staff card with your name on it. I hope
you're not too angry with me. I'm Joe, by the way"

"No", he replied" I've seen you so often and was dying for you to say
something so we could meet. I didn't dare to and I'm so glad you did."

Suddenly I felt like I'd just been let out of jail, so I squeezed his arm
and he let out a yelp of pain. God, how stupid can I be. I took his arm
and saw it was all bruised, with a plaster on his wrist. I got closer to
the bed and asked him if I could get him anything, or alert anyone, but he
said he lived in a bedsit in south London and nobody would notice his
absence. Did he need some pyjamas or a change of clothes? I could go and
fetch them for him. He gave me his address and keys and I promised I'd be
back tomorrow evening with some fresh underpants, and gave him a quick
kiss, just as the male nurse came in the room.

"Alright, boys," he said "this is a hospital and hanky-panky is not on the
menu, understood?" Abdul and I both giggled. It would be if I had my way.

Part 2 - Abdul's bedsit

Next day I made my way to bedsit land and soon found his dingy room in an
endless street of dreary Victorian terraces. It was full of rusty cars and
poorly dressed people, typical of this run down bit of south London. I got
to Abdul's place and opened the door. Coming out of one of the ground floor
rooms was a cute black guy. I asked him if he knew which room was Abdul's.
He offered to show me and we climbed to the top of the house. Inside the
room was pretty bare, with just a single bed and wardrobe, and a bedside
table with a bottle of lube on it, but also one whole wall filled with
photos of naked men, obviously cut out of the free gay magazines available
all over London. Abdul wanted some clean pants and his toiletries. The
black guy watched me getting the stuff from his wardrobe.

"So you Abdul's mate then?" he asked, "like his boyfriend?"

He wandered over to the photos. "He sure likes guys, don't he? Are you one

"You mean gay? Sure I am, and so is Abdul" I said, for my sake.

"So what do you gays do then, eh? Does he take it up the arse then, or do
you?" he leered at me.

"It depends" I said, hesitantly. This guy lives here and God only knows
what I'm letting Abdul in for, but I was passing myself off as Abdul's
boyfriend, so I'd better live the part.

"On what, then? Do you like them big? Do you like this?"

He had dropped his trousers and was stroking eight inches of growing cock.
He started to come towards me. "Like this, do ya? Fancy this up your

Instinct took over - after all, I wasn't yet Abdul's boyfriend - and I
reached out and stroked it. It was thick and warm and inviting. "Yeah" he
groaned "do me". I didn't need any more encouragement. I dropped to my
knees and took him in my mouth, slobbering over his tasty meat, which was
now leaking pre-cum. He took off his shirt and managed to wriggle out of
his trousers and pants and was soon naked.

"Get naked" he said, "I wanna fuck you". He pushed me onto the bed and
pulled off my trousers while I struggled to get off my T-shirt. He pulled
off my pants and grabbed my arse. "Very fuckable" he said" real juicy. Turn

I rolled onto my stomach while he climbed between my legs, pushing them
apart with his knees. He grabbed the lube from the bedside and squeezed
some onto his cock and fingers and began to finger-fuck me. It had been a
while since I was fucked, so I was real hungry for it and pushed back
against him. He pushed harder and faster and I lifted my bum up to meet his

He pulled out his finger and filled the space with his stiff, glistening
cock. I let out a low moan and he laughed. He pushed in until his short
curly pubes were scraping my arse, leaned forward and began to suck on my
ear. "Get ready for a joy ride, love."

He pulled out and plunged back in, all the time nibbling my ear and driving
me crazy with lust. "Oh, yeah, man, fuck me, man, fuck me." He didn't need
any more encouragement. He picked up pace and began to slam into me. I
pushed back to meet each thrust and grunted with satisfaction each time he
ploughed in.

He bit me hard on the neck and his panting grew louder. "Here it comes, bebeeeeeyyyyy" he gasped, "it's all yours." I could feel him erupting inside me
and I began to milk him with my arse muscles, getting every last drop out
of him.

He eased out of me, and the whole room smelled of sweat and cum and must.
We both got dressed in silence. "So" he said " does Abdul fuck as good as
me? Those Somalis have nice dicks, but we Jamaicans, we know how to fuck".

I smiled at him. "You sure do, you sure do." He adjusted his cock in his
trousers. "Say hello to Abdul from Leroy. Tell him I like his mate. Feel
free to look me up again, whitey, whenever you want some real fucking."

I left the building with Abdul's things, hobbling a little from the
pounding I'd got. So now I knew - Abdul was Somali, and gay. Things were
looking up.
Part 3 - the hospital

That evening I went back to the hospital and found Abdul a bit down. They'd
told him he would have to rest for three months, but he didn't know how he
could afford that. He owed a month's rent on the bedsit already. He would
also lose his job. He was working "in the black" as officially he was a
student, and so he wouldn't get any social security either. I told him not
to worry, I'd think of something. With that, he perked up a lot.

I told him I'd got his things, without mentioning Leroy. He still couldn't
move easily without grimacing, and he couldn't change by himself.

"Don't worry" I said "I'll soon get you changed". He started to protest but
I just put my hands under the blanket and tugged at his pants. He lifted
his bum so that I could take them off and I asked him if he wanted to be
washed first. He nodded and so I got out his flannel and wetted it and
lifted the cover for my first good look at the family jewels. He looked
embarrassed as I carefully washed his cock, balls and arse, and then
carefully dried him. He began to get hard. I rolled his balls around in
the towel. This really made him hard, and now he had a real nice boner. I
began slowly to stroke him. I noticed he had some Vaseline by the bed and
I reached out and smeared some on his cock.

"Lie back, Abdul. You'll sleep much better after this."

He said nothing, but shut his eyes and opened his legs. The door to his
room was shut and no one was about, so I pulled back the cover and began to
wank his greasy pole. His black cock stood out from his body, full and
straining. Like all Muslims, he was cut, but with the Vaseline my hand
slipped back and forth over his glistening knob. He was leaking pre-cum and
his balls were pulled up tight. I kept up a steady pace, while he began to
moan softly. I slipped my other hand between his legs and began to stroke
his hole. He pulled his legs further apart until they hung over the sides
of the bed. Now I had full access and I started to probe, running my finger
round his sensitive arse lips. I pushed in further until I found his
prostate. A small jet of cum spurted out of him. He moaned louder and began
to breath heavily, so I quickened my pace on his cock and jabbed at his
prostate. Suddenly he gasped, and he shot six or seven thick streams of
cum. The first two hit his face, and the rest went over the ...
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