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I didn't move -- it felt heavenly. I felt her kneel down and felt her breath on cock, then her tongue on my tip, exploring. Her mouth opened wider, pulling my manhood into her mouth, deeper, deeper, her tongue and lips working together, sucking gently, then harder, then gently, then harder . . . all while she was stroking me with one hand. It was blissful.Out of the corner of my eye I could see the closet door open a few inches, and thought I could hear faint breathing. Oh, right! That was the other part of the night. I had, unbelievably, almost forgotten. Ali must have caught it too, because she turned us slightly to give a better view to anyone in the closet as she continued to take my cock deep into her mouth. As I felt myself get close to the edge, I pulled Ali up, away from my cock, and let my hands cup those beautiful breasts. They're bigger than Jenn's by a fair bit, though not quite as firm. Ali had bigger nipples also, and she moaned as I tweaked them with my fingers,. Some laughed, some shouted, some spoke quickly, some slow. Only the old man sat silent. He watched me. He watched and sipped from his small cup. Filling it again when the porcelain pot returned back to him. He watched and sipped, and listened and sipped. Then he spoke and all others went silent. His words were delivered in a tone that, even not knowing what he was saying, I knew. It was a tone that any commander would give a testicle to be able to pull off. Pure authority. The Prime Minister spoke that way. The King. The Yank’s President … well, a few of them. And here he was, this old goat herder in a dusty tent in the middle of Hell’s loo, and he had it. In spades. What he said caused a hush. Then a rustle of cloth, and I was being held to the floor, turned over onto my belly by hard hands. Panting in the dust, I moaned when my head was yanked back by my forehead. My eyes were wide as I looked at that ancient weathered face, and felt something far sharper than a razor at my neck. I.
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