Sex with Arab soldiers 1

It was very late - well after midnight as I was walking towards the hotel on the Luxor Cornish pass The Winter Palace on one side, all the brightly lit cruise liners and the old style felucas on the Nile on the other when the young dark nubian boy chased after me inviting to come and have some tea and a "good time" on his motorboat. I politely explained to him that I've just finished for the the night and I was not going to go on any boat - now or in the future,- other people staying in the hotel warned me about feluca lads and what to expect when you accept their invitation to join them on your own in the middle of the night. The boy was rather persistent and walked with me for a few minutes handing out his business card at the end when he realised his invitation was not going to be accepted and asking me to change my mind tomorrow. He was constantly squeezing his now growing cock under his long galabeya and promising me many good things if I was to return to his boat.

We have arrived in Luxor the night before and the stay was fairly quiet upto now - getting instructed from the Thomas Cook tour rep Mahmoud with the high pitched voice not to talk to any taxi or calesh drivers ( not to trust them he meant to say), staying round the top roof pool, talking to other Brits holiday makers about their experience,- settling in the hot exotic atmosphear of a busy bustling resort.

It all dramatically changed as soon as we left the hotel. Outside we were greeted by the sea of dark weathered faces of taxi and horse driven calesh drivers who were fighting for any tourist's custom - quickly walking away declining all offers of a ride and disappearing into the busy quater of Old Town where locals live and perform their late night tasks of noisy careless driving, haggling, cooking, eating, drinking tea in the busy tea shops. The walk to the Medina ( or Cornish as the locals call the area where the rich cruise liners, motorboats ferrying local workers to and from West Bank and back and little felucas - old fashioned boats with high sails, which we saw on the River Nile so peacefully sailing up and down before from the roof top), took about 40 minutes. Then all the hassle begun.

Every minute or so we were approached by the drivers promising "cheap as chips rides for a fiver, young boys in traditional egyptian dress galabeyas offering trips to the West Bank and up and own the Nile, there were lots of hissing sounds and shouts "hey lucky man! I give you 50 camels for your wife!"

I guess within an hour we've talked to about 50- may be more - men all offering the same service and decided we've had enough turning round and taking the main road leading out of Luxor towards the hotel. We've been laughing about the whole experience politely turning down any more offers of a calesh ride or a taxi. Took 15 minutes to get back inside. We had a couple of bottles of beer each on our balcony and went to bed.

Next night I went on my own for couple of hours - to work off the rich food we had couple of hours before - missus was tired and was in bed sound asleep by the time I put my trainers on.

I escaped the drivers parked outside by quickly exiting through the staff door - nobody manned it as it was too late an the soldier stationed outside 24 hours must have gone for a leak or to get a cup of tee from the kitchen.

I legged it through the Old Town, turned left at the junction and hit the beginning of Cornish within 10 minutes.

It was dark, traffic eased off and not a lot of tourists on the Nile side walkway at this time. I managed to hit the end of the Cornish without too much hassling when the young boy dressed in tight fitting jeans and a jacket stopped me taking me by surprise as he appeared form the dark.

"Can I help you?" - he asked with a polite expression and I immediately thought "Yes" - but kept walking away and only turned round briefly to have a look the boy again and answer " Sorry man, I have to walk couple of hours more" - Can I walk with you? If you want - and show me where I can get some water- so after brief exchange of discreet glances he walked me towards the far end of the Cornish and on approaching the brightly lit sign for Luxor Museum I could see the police and army outpost on the same side of the road. I didn't want the boy to get stopped by the police and questioned so I decided to turn round and head back towards the hotel.

He offered once again to go get to his boat and after I decided - yes, I will bloody go to your boat but first I will make you sweat for it. Show me where I can get some water - he led me accross the street and into the dusty old part of unkept town full of street food sellers and little snack shops. On the way we crossed the old road lined with sphinx and other statues. He talked about the Governemtn not having enough money now to finish the diggin and that the road which was built so many thousand years ago- how many I didn't catch as the truck approached from behind and blew the horn which nearly made me jump. - Egyptians are renowned for bleeping their horns at unsuspecting tourists - even when there is nobody on the road there seemed to be constant horn beeping cacaphone - deafening noise by all accounts, but the locals seem to enjoy it. We didn't.

Young Ibrahim bought me a bottle of water ordering me to stand on the side of the shop while doing so - " The owner will charge you more when he sees that you are European" - he explained. Coming out of the shop he turned to look is I was still waiting there, thinking I would leg it to get away from him. I was there waiting. I wanted water.

Next we crossed the street and he ordered some food telling me to sit. I glanced at the dirty chairs parked on side of the dusty road and came to the pan with frying oil on top of the simple gas stove - the cook and the other two lads were staring at me as if thinkin "what the hell is he doin here in the middle of the night?" 5 minutes later we were on our way back to the motorboat. Ibrahim started the engine and the boat gently moved away from the pier. "Where are we going?" - I sat on the other end of the boat on the soft traditionally decortated carpet lined with thick cushions. Ibrahim was talking softly - "we going to the West Bank" - I couldnt hear him because of the loud engine spitting petrol fumes. The boat gliding fast towards the West Bank. Ibrahim stopped the boat in the middle of the river and moved closer to me bringing hot sanwhiches. He took one out of the plastic bag and handed it over to me - "You try?" - "Why not?" - I tucked into something totally new and alien to me thinking whatever I was eating would probably be classed as delicacy in the West. But it tasted fine and I was glad to be on the boat on my own without drivers hassling about the felucas, with no noise. Boat was drifting slowly in the middle of the river gaining the speed as it turned sideways.

Ibrahim moved sitting opposite me and started eating his food. I could tell by the noise he was making that he was very hungry. He opened his legs slightly and touched his privates making eye contact. I asked him if he had mother and father and any sisters. After small talk and re-arranging his package about dozen times more Ibrahim started the engine again and in 2 minutes, not more we hit the pier - this time he parked opposite the Winter Palace Hotel - " Ill drop you closer to your hotel so you dont have to walk far - he explained.

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