Opportunities for foreign assignments with large, American owned companies can be very lucrative. In some cases, expatriates can earn up to three times their normal salary, while at the same time having housing and food provided for free. My wife and I recently got such an opportunity to go to Saudi Arabia for two years, and it came at a perfect time in our lives.

My name is Alan, and my wife, Karen, and I were forty-two years old at the time. Our two kids were in college and living away from home anyway, so we didn’t have anything stopping us from accepting the assignment. Our biggest concern was the very restrictive, religion-based culture in Saudi Arabia, and especially how women are treated.

I am a project manager for a major construction company and would be overseeing a large infrastructure project that our company had won the bid for in the Riyadh area. Karen is a registered nurse, and the company helped her to find employment in a nearby hospital. Arabic is the national language there, but we learned that English is spoken by many people in the hospital and in business life, and I would be provided a translator as needed. We had two months’ notice before the move, so both Karen and I enrolled in a company-provided, Arabic language course, so we would be able to handle basic, verbal communication with the Saudi nationals.

We would be living in a company compound on the outskirts of the city and provided a Saudi driver who would provide us with security outside of the compound. We also had Pakistani and Indian domestic help which was shared by the other three expatriate families in our compound. Their jobs were to keep our homes clean and prepare food for us.

Karen was required to wear an abaya when out in public, which is a long, black robe that covers her from neck to feet. She would also need to wear a niqab which covers the head, hair and face, with only the eyes showing. When working in the hospital, she would wear the same types of clothing, except it would be white in color. I could wear long, loose-fitting pants and loose long-sleeved shirts if I wanted to. However, I was strongly encouraged to wear the ankle-length garment called a thobe, which is similar to a robe with long sleeves that's worn by Saudi men, to allow me to fit in better with the culture. We could wear clothes of our choosing when in our company compound.

The dress codes, and other cultural mandates, are enforced by the religious police to promote modesty and chasteness. Those same police make sure that unrelated, single men and women are not in public together. We did a little research and found several articles that discussed some of the effects that restricting normal sexual expression has on some of the population.

I didn’t know how true it was at the time, but although homosexuality is a grievous sin in Saudi, the restrictive culture actually leads to more men seeking each other out for sexual relief. Those same restrictions also cause some foreign women to be at risk for sexual advances or even assault from Saudi men. There seems to be a prevailing feeling that Western women, and especially Americans, have loose morals and are easy to approach for sex. Conversely, Saudi women are considered to be untouchable due to the harsh punishments for any infidelity.

The Saudi men and other men of color working as domestic help, who are also from sexually repressed countries, are attracted to fair-skinned, blonde-haired, and blue-eyed women. It seems ironic to me that the very rules meant to ensure chasteness, are likely responsible for the men being even more sexually aroused and horny much of the time.

Karen and I talked a lot about whether she would feel comfortable in that type of restrictive and somewhat risky environment, especially since she has exceedingly fair, alabaster skin, naturally-blonde hair, and sparkling blue eyes. She is also five feet and eight inches tall and weighs one hundred and twenty-five pounds, with full and voluptuous 36DD breasts and a gorgeous, shapely ass. In the end, we felt like she would be safe since her body would be fully covered when out in public, except for her eyes.

I must admit that the thought of horny men being attracted to Karen turns me on. She is a beautiful woman, and I always considered myself lucky to be married to her. I am not a big guy, at only five feet and nine inches tall and with a slim build, weighing only one hundred and fifty pounds. I'm also a natural blonde with blue eyes and am fairly good looking. I think Karen was attracted to me because I am smart and charming. I'm definitely not a rugged and macho guy, and some would say that I might even look a little feminine. For that reason, it always makes me feel better about myself and proud when good looking, athletic men are attracted to my wife.

We have a good sex life, even though I have a small, four-inch dick, and Karen usually takes the dominant role in our love making. She likes having me eat her out both before and after we have sex. She sometimes likes to fantasize that other, big-cocked men of color had been fucking her when she sits on my face and ‘forces’ me to eat my own cum. As far as I know she has never cheated on me, but the fantasy of it was a big turn on for both of us.

The company made the move to Riyadh very easy for us, and they even managed the rental of our home while we were away on the assignment. The first person we met on arrival in Riyadh was Abdul, our Saudi driver, who took us from the airport to our home in the compound, after stopping at a shop in the city for us to purchase our first abayas and thobes.

He is a rugged, muscular looking man at about six feet tall with medium-olive skin and what looked to be a scruffy, three-day growth of beard. He sure looked menacing enough to be able to provide our security. We were not yet wearing our more-modest clothes, and Abdul could hardly keep his dark eyes off Karen’s legs and big tits in her revealing skirt and sleeveless blouse.

When we arrived at the compound we met Kareem, the Pakistani domestic who served as a kind of head-butler for the four families in the compound. He would be helping all of us acclimate to our new lives there. He is also rugged looking and has a medium-olive complexion, and part of his job is to provide security for us when we're in our homes. Our house cleaner and cook is a Tamil Indian, named Rafat. He is short at about five feet and seven inches tall and has dark-brown skin. It was interesting that we were able to dress as we wanted in the compound, even though our driver, butler and cook are all horny-looking Middle-Eastern men who incessantly stared at Karen, with no concern that we saw them ogling her.

It's very hot there, and thankfully we had sufficient air conditioning to keep us cool. Our first night of sex was good, as Karen fantasized that she was being fucked by our rugged driver and butler, before feeding me my own cum. There was just something about the way those men seemed so manly and stared at her so hungrily that raised the sexual tensions for both of us.

The next morning Abdul dropped Karen off at the hospital before taking me and the other three company employees to our work location. I was having a hard time getting used to wearing the long thobe, and I’m sure that Karen was even more uncomfortable in her abaya and niqab. My day went very well, and I was soon in the swing of things doing my job. I was able to communicate in Arabic for the most part, only using the interpreter a few times. I could hardly wait to talk with Karen that night to see how things went at the hospital.

After eating the nice dinner of local cuisine prepared for us by Rafat, we sat around the living room listening to music and talking. I asked Karen about her day and she replied, “It was really hard to get used to the abaya and niqab at first, but by the end of the day I hardly noticed that I was wearing it. And despite my body being fully covered, except for my eyes, I still attracted a lot of attention from the male doctors, nurses, and administrators. Maybe it's just because I was new, and everyone was curious about me being an American woman, or maybe my fair skin and blue eyes were attractive to them.”

She paused to take a sip of her cool drink and continued, “I was surprised that even with the religious police patrolling the area, many of the men were flirting with me. Some of the men even found situations where they could press up against me in ways that seemed innocent at the time. And when I went outside during my lunch break to do some shopping, several Saudi men made suggestive comments to me about being an American whore."

"I asked one of the other nurses who is from the Philippines whether I should have reported some of those men to the religious police. She said that they would never take the word of an expatriate woman over that of Saudi men, and it would be best to just tolerate some of their rudeness. And besides, I have to admit that it felt good to be desired that way, and I enjoyed some of their crudeness.”

We had another great night of sex that night when we went to bed, and Karen was clearly turned on by the attention she was getting from those men. She said that some of the male doctors are very handsome, and she definitely felt big cock lumps when they seemingly innocently rubbed themselves against her. She was much more turned on than I could ever remember her being when we fantasized, in all our years of marriage.

As the week progressed, Karen told me more and more stories about how the men in the hospital and on the street were pursuing her and even making sexual advances. The thought of those horny men so openly lusting after my wife was very arousing to me, and I wanted to see for myself what it's like to be in her situation. Maybe it was my submissive sexual nature, but for some reason I wanted to experience the thrill of being pursued by the Saudi men.

Friday night after dinner, I said to Karen, “I believe what you are telling me about those men, but I want to experience it for myself. I’m going to borrow your black abaya and niqab, which should fit me since we are almost the same size, and have Abdul take me into the city late tomorrow afternoon. I just want to walk around the streets and see if the men treat me the same way as they do you, thinking that I am a woman.”

Karen laughed and said, “Oh my goodness, honey, that would be so kinky for you to dress like a woman in public that way. But aren’t you worried about being caught? We were taught in our orientation that Saudi Arabia forbids men to imitate women in dress or other ways, and women are also forbidden from imitating men. A man dressing that way is considered to be committing a sin, and to be weak, woman-like, and submissive, as well as possibly being homosexual. That would bring shame on himself and his family, and subject him to the ridicule, scorn and the abuse of others.”

“I have to admit, though, that the idea of you dressing and acting like a woman plays pretty well with our fantasies of you being my submissive husband. If you are really planning on going through with this, you damn well better not get caught.”

She was right about the ramifications of being caught dressed as a woman, but feelings that I didn’t fully understand were drawing me to do it. Maybe it was just a subconscious yearning to be sexualized by those horny men the way Karen was. I had never in my life had any homosexual desires, and I was possibly being affected by the very specific, sexualized fantasies that Karen and I were having about those dark and mysterious men we met in Saudi.

I got ready on Saturday afternoon, and Karen helped me apply some mascara, eyeliner and other makeup to enhance the beauty of my eyes and make them look more feminine. She also gave me advice on speaking in a higher tone of voice like a woman. When I finally put on the abaya and niqab, we both thought that my eyes looked pretty peering out of the small space in the black material, and that I could easily pass for a woman. I let Abdul know that I wanted a ride to the center of the city, and we left the compound at about 5:30 pm.

Abdul kept looking back at me in the rearview mirror, and finally had the courage to say, “You know, you really shouldn’t be doing this, Mr. Alan. You will be treated very badly if the men in the city find out that you are really a man. In addition, the rest of the staff at the compound and I know what you are doing, and it will make us regard you with less respect. What kind of man would leave his wife at home alone with other men, while going off on some lark dressed as a woman? It’s almost as if you are purposely playing the part of a sissy and inviting her to be unfaithful to you with the men at home. It’s not too late to turn back, before this gets out of hand.”

I appreciated his warning, but I was still determined to see it through. We arrived in the city at about 5:50 pm, and I said, “Thanks for the advice, Abdul, but this is something that I have to do. And as far as my wife is concerned, she is a big girl and can take care of herself. I don’t know where I’ll end up, but I will give you a call when I’m ready to be picked up.”

The sun was setting as I walked along the streets in the city. I was hassled by the religious police a couple of times for being an unescorted woman on the streets, and I told them that I was going to meet my husband. Several men passed by close enough to see my blue eyes and the makeup, and they made comments suggesting that I was a whore for being on the streets alone. At about 6:30 pm I was being harassed by a small group of young men near the entrance to a hookah lounge.

A hookah lounge is an establishment where men gather in groups of close friends of similar age and backgrounds. They use hookah water pipes to smoke a molasses-based tobacco concoction called shisha, as well as playing cards, socializing, and eating before returning to their homes. Those places are private property, so the religious police are not allowed in there, and I found out that some of the men even had home-made liquor. Even though alcoholic beverages are forbidden in the kingdom, it is well-known that the men do imbibe in private places like the hookah lounges.

Some of the men were starting to get physical and grab my ass, and that’s when an older man, probably in his late-forties came outside and guided me into the lounge. It was forbidden for women to be in the presence of or touched by unrelated men like that.

But he justified his actions saying in Arabic, and translated by me into English, “Pardon me madam. My name is Roshan and you must know that it is not safe for you to be out on the streets unaccompanied this way. Seeing your pretty blue eyes, you must be a Western expatriate and are unfamiliar with our customs. We will protect you until someone from your family can come and get you.”

I wanted to stay in the lounge and observe the men and learn how they would treat me, and I definitely did not want to give him the idea that I was afraid and wanted to go home. So, I said in my softest feminine voice, “Thank you for pulling me inside, Roshan, but I would like to stay here a while. I am an American named Karen, and my husband and I had a little argument this afternoon. I decided to come into the city to explore the nightlife. Would you allow me to stay here with you and the others for a while? And is it possible that you might have some alcoholic beverages here for me to drink? It’s been so long since I’ve been able to party like I used to do in the United States.”

Roshan’s eyes lit up when he learned that I was looking to party and have some fun. He still looked nervous, though, as he replied, “You must know that this type of socializing is forbidden. However, since the religious police are not allowed in here, it should be safe for you to stay.”

He led me to a small table in the dark, back corner of the lounge, where he and two of his good friends were smoking shisha. He introduced them as Saif and Khaled. They are all dark-skinned and rugged looking and were in their late-forties wearing thobes. Roshan ordered me a beverage, and when it came he poured some of his strong, home-brewed alcohol from his flask into my glass. I sipped that very strong drink, which must have been over eighty percent alcohol content, as we talked. I wasn’t used to drinking alcohol, and it only took a few minutes for me to start feeling woozy from the drink. Roshan and the other men were becoming friendlier as they saw that I was slurring my words a little.

That’s when Roshan put his arm around my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Tell me pretty American lady, what you and your husband were arguing about?”

I was getting strong sexual vibes from him and I wanted to encourage him just a little, to see how far he would go. So, I lied and responded, “I am a nurse and work at the hospital. Several of the doctors have been trying to get friendly with me, and when I told my husband about it, he got very angry. He accused me of leading the men on and acting like a slut.”

Roshan leaned in close again, and I smelled his musky scent. He asked, “What in particular upset him about what the doctors were doing?”

I replied, “Well, I probably shouldn’t be saying this in front of you men, but I told him how the doctors would sometimes stand close and rub their groins up against me, and I felt big lumps in their thobes.”

Roshan and his friends were then smiling as he asked, “Why was he upset with you? Did you tell him that you liked feeling those men rub you that way?”

Roshan tightened his grip on my shoulders as I responded, “No, I didn’t tell him that I liked it, although I did like it. I just said that it felt like their genitals were much longer and thicker than his.”

I had been taking the role of a woman in talking to the men, and after drinking that strong alcohol, I must have for the moment felt like I was really nurse Karen from the hospital. So, I was receptive to Roshan’s next move. He gently took my hand and placed it on a very hard cock lump in his thobe, and it felt like he wasn’t wearing any underwear. He then dropped his hand down to rub my ass as he asked, “Were any of those other lumps you felt as big as mine? You can get a close look at my big, Saudi cock if you want to.”

I felt like I was in a daze as he slid his chair back and lifted the front of his thobe with one hand, as he pushed me down with his hand on my back. In the dim light of the lounge I saw his big, brown cock, just as I caught a whiff of his genitals. He's hairy and his cock was hard and about nine inches long, with big balls hanging off the edge of the chair. I had never even thought about sucking a cock before that moment, but it was the most natural thing in the world for me to lift the bottom of my niqab and take his oozing cock head into my mouth.

His precum tasted a little bitter, probably from smoking the shisha and the strong drinks they had, and he continued pressing me farther down onto his meat. He then held my head in place as he began to swivel his hips, fucking his big cock into my mouth. I had only been sucking him for a few minutes when his cock started throbbing and spewing in my mouth.

He said, “Ahhh fuck, I knew that an American whore like you would like sucking my big cock. Swallow my Arab seed you fucking cunt, and get ready for more from my friends.”

I was amazed at how erotic it was to take another man’s cock into my mouth and swallow his thick load of cum, and even more surprised at myself for succumbing to him so easily. Judging from the size and thickness of his load, he must have been very horny. After just that one experience, I knew that I loved the feeling of being sexually used by strong, dominant men that way, even though the idea of taking a man’s cock and cum into my mouth would have been disgusting to me only a short time earlier. I wondered what those three men had in mind for me next, and I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Roshan took my arm as all three men stood up, and he led us through a heavy curtain into a small, private, back room in the lounge. The room was dimly lit, but I saw that there was a bed-sized, mat-like, padded cushion on the floor, with many pillows stacked on and around it.

He pushed me to my knees on the cushion and said, “What kind of married woman would suck the cock of a man that she just met? Now that we know what kind of nasty slut you are, it’s only right that you take care of my friends too.”

Saif sat on one end of the cushion with his thobe pulled up and legs spread wide. I smelled his strong, virile and musky odor as I stared at his dark, thick cock and big, hairy balls. Roshan placed some thick pillows under my belly as he gently pushed my head down towards Saif’s cock. I felt so exposed in that position, kneeling over the pillows, with my ass up in the air. At first, I thought I would just be sucking Saif’s cock, and panicked when Roshan and Khaled began rubbing my ass.

I knew that I risked being exposed as a man and shouldn’t have let things go any farther. It’s just that Saif’s dark, eight-inch cock was only inches from my mouth, and I was hungry to suck him and swallow his cum. I knew at that point that it was inevitable that they would find out I was a man anyway, and I wanted to find out what they would do. I lifted my niqab and took the precum covered head of his thick cock into my mouth as the other men got more aggressive rubbing my ass.

I was only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of loose athletic shorts, with no underwear, under the abaya. Saif was then holding my head in place with his hands and thighs, and slowly pivoting his hips to thrust his cock into my mouth. That’s when I felt the bottom of the abaya being lifted, as the men gripped the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down and off my legs. The light was dim enough in the room that the men couldn’t see right away that I'm a man. They began rubbing and spreading my bare ass cheeks for a few moments, until one of the men reached between my legs thinking he would be fingering a wet pussy.

He felt my small dick and balls, and immediately withdrew his hand. Roshan sounded angry as he said, “What the fuck is this shit? Don’t you know that it is forbidden for a man to dress as a woman? You have brought yourself much shame for doing this? You could be in a lot of trouble if we turned you into the religious police. Instead, we’re going to show you what it’s like to be a woman and taking big, Arab cocks up your ass. Come and fuck this bitch, Khaled, while I rest up a little more for my turn in this she-man’s ass-cunt. We can lube him up with some cooking oil from the kitchen until he takes your first load.”

I know that I am naive, but it never occurred to me that the men would want to have anal sex with me. Although, I had read that due to the sexual repression in their society, homosexuality between men is a fairly common occurrence. In addition, the active participant, or top, takes some pride in being able to subdue another man. All the shame and feelings of inferiority are apparently on the man being used both orally and anally as a receptacle for the fuck fluids of the dominant man.

Khaled stepped away for a few moments, and when he returned I felt warm oil being poured down my ass crack. He used his hand to move his thick cock head up and down my crack, until he held it against my sphincter and started pressing. My mouth was full of Saif’s cock, so I couldn’t call out in pain as the ridge of his cock head pushed into my hole. The pain lessened as he shoved more of his fuck meat into me, and I could tell when he was in all the way as his big balls swung against my thighs and ass. He held my hips in place as he began taking long, deep strokes in my ass, which forced Saif’s cock deeper into my mouth on each thrust.

I could only imagine what it looked like with my ass up in the air being pummeled by one big, Arab cock, as I was leaning down into another man’s lap, sucking his oozing fuck meat. In only a few minutes the pain in my ass had turned to pleasure as his big cock rubbed against my prostate. I loved the feeling of being used and filled on both ends by those swarthy and aggressive men. It only took a few more minutes before Saif’s cock was pulsing and throbbing, filling my mouth with a huge load of Arab seed, at the same time Khaled was buried to the balls in my ass and inseminating me with his load.

Saif moved out of the way as Khaled moved to sit in front of me so I could suck his cock and balls clean of his cum. That’s when Roshan moved in behind me and pressed his big cock into my cum-filled ass with one thrust. The men kept changing positions and using my holes for the next two hours, until each of them had fucked my ass twice and I had swallowed at least one load from each of them when they fucked my mouth.

They were finally finished with me, and as I suckled Roshan’s cock and balls for the last time, he said, “We’re done with your whoring ass and mouth for tonight, so you might want to make a call for your ride. You can visit us here whenever you want to, and we think you might even invite us to your home, so we can fuck your slut wife and show her what a wimpy little cock sucker and ass whore you are.”

I called Abdul, and he must have been parked nearby. I only had to wait a few minutes and he was out front of the hookah lounge beeping the horn. Roshan walked out ahead of me and talked to Abdul briefly, after which both men looked back at me in my abaya and laughed. Abdul was quiet for the first half of the ride home, and just kept looking back at me in the mirror.

Then he said, “So, Alan, or should I call you Alana? Your new friend, Roshan, told me that you became a woman tonight for him and his friends, and with both your mouth-cunt and ass-cunt. Now that I know your true character, you will become a cock slut for me and the other men in the compound. And when Karen finds out what you are and what you did, she will want to fuck our big cocks too.”

Abdul would soon learn that he wouldn’t need to force me to do anything. I wanted to be used by those men, and I also wanted to watch Karen being fucked by their big cocks. It was getting late when we pulled into the compound garage, and when Abdul got into the back seat with me and pushed my head down to his lap, I eagerly sucked his ten-inch, brown cock, and swallowed his cum.

I still had the taste of his semen in my mouth when I went inside, and Karen asked me how my little adventure as a woman turned out. I knew that Abdul would soon enough tell Karen about me, as well as Kareem and Rafat. So, I held her hand and told her everything that I had done, including just sucking off Abdul and swallowing his cum.

Karen sat there listening to me, and her look of horror got more intense as I told her about being repeatedly fucked in the ass. When I was finished she pulled her hand out of my grip and said, “Dammit, Alan, I told you that bad things would happen if you got caught wearing my abaya and niqab, and it almost sounds like you wanted to get caught. It wasn’t enough for you to just fantasize about being my submissive husband."

"I mean shit, Alan, you actually sucked those men’s cocks and let them fuck you. And from the way you're talking, I can tell that you enjoyed being treated that way. Well, I’ll tell you what, asshole; now that you’ve done this, all our fantasies from before are going to come true. Those men will think they can fuck me now anyway, after they all hear what a wimpy cock sucker and ass-cunt you are.”

I have explained our situation in Saudi and the circumstances surrounding my introduction to Arab cocks. Now I think it will be more informative to have Karen relate the rest of this story to you, and she is eager to describe the depravity that we both sunk to.

Karen’s Story

Alan’s assignment in Saudi Arabia was a good opportunity for him, and I was looking forward to immersing myself in their culture, which is male-dominated. Alan is slightly built and has never been a dominant type of man, but I was surprised how willing he was to become subservient to those brown-skinned Middle-Eastern men. I had some previous indication of his submissive nature, since we often fantasized in our love making that I was being fucked by men of color, but I never thought he would take it as far as he did.

After our first week in our new environment, he decided to wear my abaya and niqab to the city to see what it was like to be a woman in that culture. He ended up sucking the cocks of three Saudi men, and being fucked by them. He was honest and told me all about it, and I was determined to get even by fucking men of color myself.

The morning following the night he told me about being used by those men, we were at breakfast, and Rafat, our Tamil Indian cook, seemed to be more attentive than usual as he served us and hovered around the table. He ‘accidently’ pressed his crotch against my arm as he leaned in to poor my coffee, and I noticed that he did the same thing to Alan. His big cock lump felt semi-hard, and it was obvious that Abdul had told him about Alan’s behavior in the city. I think that he was just testing to see how we would react.

Later in the morning, Kareem, our Pakistani butler, stopped by to tell us that he, Rafat, and Abdul wanted to come to our home that evening to find out how things were going for us after our first week in Saudi Arabia, and to find out if we had any questions or concerns about the culture or our treatment there. I thought they were just using that as an excuse to approach us sexually, and I could hardly wait.

The men showed up after dinner that evening, and Rafat brought a large flask of a strong, homemade liqueur that he had distilled from dates. For the first hour we talked about our experiences where we worked, and I even told the men about how I was being approached by some of my coworkers and belittled by other men on the street. After about an hour and a half drinking, Alan and I were becoming quite woozy, while the men, who were used to the strong drink, didn’t seem to be affected that much.

When he saw that we were inebriated, Abdul said, “It is not good that those men were making advances on you at work, Karen, but I can understand how they would be so attracted to your beautiful blue eyes, which are visible in your niqab. And if you don’t mind me saying so, it is hard to cover up your other, buxom charms, even in the abaya. Even a slightly built man with pretty blue eyes could be mistaken for a woman in an abaya and niqab. In fact, when I took Alan into the city last night, he looked like a pretty woman in your clothes. So, Alan, why don’t you get dressed and show Kareem and Rafat how pretty you were last night?”

I knew that Abdul was trying to embarrass Alan in front of me, and to set the stage for having all three of the men use us sexually. He didn’t know that Alan and I had already talked about what had occurred, and that I was planning on fucking them anyway.

Just to play along, I looked at Alan and said, “Come on, honey, I’ll put on your eye makeup again and let you use my abaya and niqab. Abdul is right; you did look pretty good last night.”

I was wearing a short skirt with no underwear and a tight blouse with no bra that showed off my legs and big tits, as I helped with the makeup and clothes. When we came back into the room, the men smiled when they saw Alan, and Abdul told the men things in front of me that I knew he must have already told the men in private.

He said, “See, I told you he was pretty in those clothes, and I think he should wear them all the time at home. Maybe we could even call him Alana, since a man who has so shamed himself should be seen and treated like the female slut that he is.”

He paused for a moment to see how we were reacting to his comments, and then continued, “In fact, when I picked him up last night outside that hookah lounge, Roshan told me that Alana had serviced him and his friends for hours, with his mouth and asshole. And Alana even took care of me in the car when we got back home. Go ahead and whip out your cock, Kareem, and you’ll see just how cum hungry this American man-cunt is.”

I was surprised that Abdul was being so forward and aggressive, but looking at Alan, I knew that he was not upset by it. He looked woozily on as Kareem leaned back on pillows on the long, low divan and pulled up his thobe. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his soft, brown, circumcised cock was lying across his thigh, and his big, hairy balls hung heavily between his legs. His cock was beginning to harden in anticipation of what Alana would do for him, and I guessed that it would be every bit as big as Alan described Roshan’s cock to be.

Then Abdul grabbed Alan by the arm and said, “Come on now, Alana, you know that you want to suck that big Pakistani cock, and Rafat can work on your ass-cunt, while I show Karen my big cock.”

It was surprisingly arousing to see Alan lean down, lift the niqab, and take Kareem’s nine-inch, brown cock into his mouth. At the same time Rafat began rubbing Alan’s ass, and lifted the abaya as he dropped his own pants. Rafat is small in stature, and I was surprised at the size of his cock, which is black, uncircumcised, and what looked to be twelve inches long. I had read that many Indian men, unlike Arabs, are uncircumcised, and that that Tamil Indians have bigger cocks, on average, than any other Middle-Eastern men.

I watched as Rafat leaned down to suck Alan’s ass to get him lubricated, and then began trying to work his thick, black cock into Alan’s asshole. At the same time, Abdul took off his pants and sat on the other end of the divan, inviting me to sit next to him. His cock is brown, was hard, about ten inches long, and as thick as my wrist.

He took my hand in his and placed in on his cock, and said, “Here, Karen, get a good feel of my big Arab cock. A beautiful, American woman like you deserves to be made love to by real men, instead of your girly husband who sucks cocks and let’s himself be fucked in his ass-cunt by other men. Roshan told me that Alana has a little dick, and I know that you will enjoy my big cock and thick, potent Arab cum.”

It felt so good stroking Abdul’s big cock, as he leaned in to kiss me and rub my breasts. He unbuttoned my blouse, and my big, 36DD breasts spilled out into his hand. As I continued stroking his cock, I felt his precum oozing down my hand, and I smelled the musky aroma of his hairy crotch and his cum. I was anxious to be fucked by him, and I lay back on the divan, pulling Abdul on top of me. He began to hump against me, and my short skirt rose up far enough that I felt his bare cock pushing into my hairy, wet labia. His thick meat was stretching me to the limit, since I had only fucked Alan’s little dick in the past.

Abdul kept kissing me, pushing his long tongue deep into my mouth, as he shoved inch after inch of his cock into my pussy. It felt so good being fucked by him, and just as I was having the first of my many orgasms, I saw that Alan was being aggressively fucked, impaled on both ends by those two swarthy men.

About that time Abdul was moaning and gasping as he broke our kiss and said, “Oh, baby, your tight, white cunt is so tight on my thick cock, and I’ll soon be filling your womb with my Arab seed. I don’t know if you’re on birth control or not, but you better be if you don’t want an Arab baby.”

I wasn’t on birth control since the pills made me gain weight, and we had been using the rhythm method with great success. I knew that I was right on the edge of being in my fertile period, but I wanted his cum inside me. I also wanted to excite him into having an even bigger climax.

So, I wrapped my legs around his ass to hold him in place, and breathlessly said, “Fuck yesssss, Abdul, cum in my adulterous womb and give me your brown baby. I’m in my normal fertile time now, so fuck me hard and cum deep inside of me.”

Abdul increased the speed of his thrusts, and just as I was having my fourth orgasm, I felt his cock throbbing, pulsing, and ejaculating into my pussy. At just about the same time, Alan was choking down Kareem’s cum, as Rafat unloaded in his ass. Abdul stayed inside of me until he saw his friends withdrawing from Alan.

As he rolled off me he said, “Come over here and take care of your wife, Alana. I just left a big load of cum in her for you to eat.”

Alan moved between my legs and began eating me out, as the three men laughed and teased him for being such a man-slut. After we rested for a few minutes, we began the second round of what would be four ejaculations for each of those men that night. Alan and I sucked cock and were fucked in various combinations, including the last one of the night where I was being fucking in my mouth, ass, and pussy at the same time by those men. And of course, Alan cleaned up all of us as the night progressed.

Following that first night, those men fucked me and Alan, whenever they wanted to, and whether Alan and I were together or not. Alan always wore my clothing, dressed as an Arab woman, and that added to the thrill and eroticism for all of them. We even included the three other husbands from the company living in the compound, although they never fucked Alan in the ass, and they didn’t know that it was him in my clothes.

I became so hungry for those big brown cocks, that Abdul even went into the city to pickup Roshan and his friends to bring them back to the compound to fuck us. In addition, I invited two of the doctors I worked with over for dinner, and Alan and I took care of them.

Throughout all the fucking and sucking, Alan always wore my clothing, dressed as an Arab woman, and that added to the thrill and eroticism for all of them. And it shouldn’t be a surprise that after fucking all those men for a month, I missed my period and found out that I was pregnant. I knew that it wasn’t Alan’s baby, since he hadn’t fucked me since we started fucking Abdul and the others, and we’ll find out in another three months whether the baby is brown or not.