Chapter 6 - Entering to the Blocked Rooms

6

ENTERING TO THE BLOCKED ROOMs

          One night at Ghassam’s place, he opened a beautiful website called Manjam. Thousands of online guys in Dubai searching for other guys. One page - all-info profile for each guy. Most of them had their pictures at least body pictures.

But it was another banned website in UAE. God created all the puzzles with a key to open it, so do human being.

“So how do you open the site?” I questioned with enthusiasm.

He teaches me how to open all the blocked sites, not just Manjam. “Download hotspot shield toolbar and every time you want to open a blocked site, double-click on hotspot shield icon. You will know it gets connected when the icon becomes red to green colour. Then browse any page you want”.

          As soon as I got home I downloaded the hotspot shield and checked every website starting with ‘gay’. I passed this info right away to my friends Rihan and Saad. Saad then told me that manjam is a really cool gay dating website, and he used to use it before it was blocked. So I decided to make an account in Manjam with some new sexy pictures.

My profile, My desire, My appearance, My life style, My ideal, My interest, My sex interest and My languages – I completed the profile info in half an hour.

          Next day when I checked the profile I had more than 15 messages. Hamood’s message was one of them. A guy just my type. Bahraini, 32, 182cm, 78kg, Athletic body, Large cock,  Top only and like young guys etc etc - all the information were in the profile.  His message was short and simple ‘Call me 0508655010’ and he attached his two pictures. I wanted to call him right away but my modesty didn’t allow me, so I replied my number and a wink smiley.

Ghassam was online in MSN; he saw my Manjam profile and made fun of me for having a profile in Manjam. ‘See, I told you, you will become one of Dubai bitches! By the way, if you are free now, come over, I am horny.

I didn’t defend myself of being a bitch. But I refused to go to his place ‘Sorry man, I am going out with friends later, lets meet up another time’  It was not because he called me future Dubai bitch ; it was because he said he is too tired to drive all the way to come and pick me up, then I have to spend 80 dirham to and forth by cab just for a fuck. I knew I need a driving license but I am too pussy to drive! So at the moment, I am available only who is ready to come and pick me up unless they stay nearby. 

          At night I woke up with a message alert in my phone. ‘Free for a fuck now?’

          Who the hell is this at 1AM in the morning!! But I replied politely ‘Who is this please...?’

Reply came in two seconds ‘Hamood’.

I liked his direct and short messages but it is midnight ‘Sorry, I am sleeping now, so any other day’ and waited for a reply. But no answer after that.

          Next day my gay hormone kept telling me to call Hamood. I controlled till the evening and then I called. Both the numbers were off. Since my gay hormone took control over my village mentality, I decided to go for a window-shopping. It might relieve my horniness. I went to Karama souk, and walked through the small alley of the souk. It is a copy market; there you can buy all the fake of branded items cheap but good quality.

Most of the boutiques owned by Iranians with very cute Iranian and Mallu Muslim sales boys. They wear the latest fashion in town. Iranians like to dress up. They mix and match everything that even gay guys don’t dare to try. Normally I am not in to fashion freaks or slim young guys. But Iranian boys are exception. They have a mixture of wildness and cuteness in their oval shaped faces and coloured eyes.

          I spent almost one hour in the market, by window shopping the guys and then decided to go home. On the way back I saw a tall sexy guy in a tight blue jeans with lots of frills, body fit orange T-shirt, orange belt and a black pointed shoes. He had a long pony tail and a pointed chin beard. He looked like a D&G model on the ramp. He was smoking a cigarette outside his shop. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He noticed that I am examining him tip to toe.

          When I reached next to him, he asked “Jeans?” lifting up his thick eye brows.

“Sure” I went inside with him.

It was a small Men’s wear boutique. Because of a weekday and offseason, no other customers were in the show room except a guy on the counter.

“How long have you been working here?” I threw a friendly question.

“This is my shop” he smiled.

 My nervousness and enthusiasm was clear that I want him not jeans. “Where did you buy this Jeans?” I touched his jeans as if I am checking the material.

Instead of answering that he asked me a straight forward question in a very nice accent “You like to suck?”

I nodded in high spirits.

          He took me to the changing room and unbuttoned his jeans. I kneeled down and took that already aroused cock in my mouth. Unlike his slim figure, his cock was thick. I moved my head to and fro like an expert and he helped my head movement with his hands and sometimes he pushed more inside than I could take in the mouth. 5 minutes, he came. I spit the sweet-sour liquid on the corner. He asked me to wait inside and brought some tissues to clean.

“Can I get your phone number?” I wanted to meet him again.

 “Sorry, I am not gay” he refused with the same accent as he asked me to suck his dick.

I believed him that he is not gay. Because I already knew that Middle Eastern men are not afraid to try sexual fantasies. They are always horny and have the best sexual power in the world and ready to explore any time. 

          On the way back home, I was wondering... as Ghassam said, Am I being one of Dubai bitches!! Yes or No I liked the sweet-sour taste in my mouth.

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