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    William King
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Refugee - 21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One - Selling Yourself.

 

Samir stayed clear of the main gate for the next week, he decided he didn't want to bump into Stefan. Although that wasn't actually true. It was rather he didn't want to piss off Amar, or risk Firas, or anyone else seeing him. Time dragged with nothing to do, but he steered clear of bringing up the photo session and the possibility of the phone. Neither Amar nor Firas talked anymore about it. Until Firas happened to mention he'd seen Stefan with another guy called Joram, driving off together in the Mercedes. This got Samir's curiosity going and he wanted to know who Joram was.

“He's just some guy I got talking to once. You know, I was just hanging around the camp and well, we just kind of got talking,”

“And?”

“And nothing. Just turns out he was from Aleppo. He knew the camp where we were in Syria. But he crossed into Turkey near Killis, where he stayed awhile. Later he went to Gaziantep, and then crossed to a Greek island. But that was a long time after.”

“Sounds like you know his entire life story,” Amar smirked.

“How old is this guy Joram?” Samir wondered if this was a boy his age, because he thought that maybe he had missed his chance with Stefan.

“He's twenty-one.”

Amar chuckled to himself because he knew Firas liked guys a bit older, and he knew that was how they got talking. He would bet anything the guy was gay. Samir didn't even think about that, he was relieved Joram wasn't some fourteen or fifteen year old. This prompted him with the idea he should try to see Stefan again. Despite Amar, and Firas with his warnings, he still thought it was not a bad thing to do. There was the possibility of a phone, and anyway, he had actually enjoyed the last time.

“I'm gonna talk to Stefan next time I see him.”

Amar and Firas looked at him.

“I’m not sure that's a good idea,” Firas told him.

“Last time...” Samir started, then he realised he was about to tell them something he'd not said before.

“Last time what?” Amar questioned.

It was too late now, he had to explain. “Well, last time, when I saw Stefan, he said that I could definitely get a phone, and make some money, if...”

“Oh come on,” Firas spoke up.

“If?”

Amar wasn't getting angry, he was calm and relaxed, so Samir continued. “If I was to bring a friend, we could make a movie, well a clip. But it could make us some money.”

“So Stefan wants to film you and... someone,” Amar looked hard into Samir's eyes. “You and someone, making love.”

“A sex movie,” Firas concluded.

“A clip, a movie clip,” Samir corrected.

“What's the difference?” Amar asked.

“Yeah, he wants to film two boys having sex. Then he'll sell it. And... maybe you'll get paid.” Firas told him.

“And who is the other boy?” Amar wanted to know.

“Anybody,” Samir declared, then added, “You and me.”

There was a weird kind of silence that followed, nobody knowing quite what to say. How do you deal with something like this? It's a way to maybe make some money, but who could say where it leads, and like Firas said, it could be dangerous.

*****

It was a while later, another long hot summer evening, when Samir and Firas spotted Stefan. Actually, all three, Amar was with them, were aimlessly strolling around. It was Firas who saw Joram first. He must have been on his way to meet up with Stefan.

“Joram, what's up?” Firas greeted him.

“Hi, Firas, not a lot,” Joram smiled and his attention turned from Stefan coming through the main gates, to the boys accompanying Firas.

“This is Amar.” Firas nodded towards his friend, “and...” Firas embraced Samir with an arm around his shoulder pulling him into a hug. “This one is called Samir.”

“The three musketeers!” Joram joked.

“Joram, you coming?” Stefan had joined them, but more or less ignored the boys.

“Stefan,” Samir wanted his attention. “These are my friends Amar and Firas.”

“We need to go,” Stefan was trying to hurry Joram, but at the same time he glanced at Samir, who smiled.

“Yeah, I remember you. What happened? You disappeared, we were going to fix something up.”

“We still can,” Samir was hopeful. “With my friends.”

Stefan looked again at Amar and Firas. “It was you I was interested in.”

“But you said bring a friend along.”

“Yeah, so we’re here, mister,” Amar chipped in, but not very nicely.

“I can see that. Your friend has a bit of an attitude, doesn't he?”

Samir glared at Amar. “It's hot, we're kinda tired.”

“Look kid, cut the bullshit. You wanna come, come. But not your buddies. I don't need extras.”

Amar took an instant dislike to this guy Stefan. Firas just ignored him, it was obvious nothing was going to work out.

Amar spoke up, more friendly, realising where this might be heading. “Samir and me won't disappoint.” This shocked Samir because he didn't think Amar was at all into any of this.

“Look, I can see you might wanna make a buck, or maybe you're just looking out for your friend and wanna come along for the ride. Make sure nothing bad happens. Listen.” Stefan looked straight at Amar. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen. He can come if he wants, but not you as well. It's not a fucking nursery outing.”

“But you said to bring a friend,” Samir interrupted.

Stefan gave Samir a sharp look. “Don't try to tell me you were all coming here to see me. That's crap and you know it. We just happened to be in the same place, at the same time. Anyway, that was what, a week ago? Things have moved on. I provide a service and the requirements change.”

Stefan returned his attention to Joram. “Let's go.”

“Okay,” Samir said. “I'm in.”

Amar and Firas both looked at him, but said nothing. Amar didn't know why he didn't stop him, but neither of them did. They just watched him go out through the gates and along the road to the jet black Mercedes.

As they got in and the car did a U-turn, speeding away down the port road, Firas finally spoke, “You could have stopped him.”

“What for?”

“What's up with you? I thought you and Samir were a permanent item.”

“We were, but maybe not now.”

“I don't believe that. He really likes you, and you feel the same. Shit, man, you're good together.”

“I suppose. But you know something, Firas? He's changing. You must have noticed.”

They were walking back across the port towards the wharf, the lights had just come on.

“He's come out of his shell, that’s for sure, but that's good. You remember all the time we were together in Gaziantep, he never even spoke. Not one word, not until Burhan...”

Firas’ voice trailed off as he recalled the old man and the morning he passed away. That was the first time Samir ever spoke. That he would never forget for all his life – He’s in paradise – those were his exact words. Words he'd used to comfort Firas.

“I don't like that guy.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty obvious. If you had been a bit more... you know, ah, nice, then perhaps he would have taken you with him.”

“I don't think so. You heard what he said, things have moved on.”

They were nearly at the water and you could see the movement of the sea as the lights from the port reflected off the surface.

“Is Joram gay?”

“Uh, yes, I think maybe,” Firas was surprised by the question.

“Do you think he'll do stuff with Samir?”

“Fuck, I don't know! What kind of question is that?”

“Well it seems obvious to me. Why else would he invite Samir along. A boy of fourteen and a gay guy of twenty two.”

“Twenty one.”

“Whatever.” Amar picked up a piece of wood lying on the ground by the edge of the wharf. He brought his arm back, and with a sweeping arc, hurled the wood out into the darkness of the harbour. It hit the water some distance away with a loud splash.

“Doesn't mean anything you know.”

“That's what we tell ourselves.” Amar looked at his friend, “But is it true?”

Is it true? Firas didn't have the answer. He was telling Amar it didn't mean anything, because he wanted to believe that himself. He did like Joram, so thinking about what the two of them might be doing, well he didn't even want to go there.

Amar turned away from the water’s edge, and they walked back together in the direction of the railway and their tent.

*****

Stefan finished setting up the camera and the lighting. He had offered both Samir and Joram a drink when they arrived, and now they were sitting side by side on the end of the bed.

“This could be very good,” Stefan was explaining. “But it needs to look natural, not forced. If you can do that, then there could be a lot in this for everyone. The most...” he looked at each of them in turn. “The most important thing is don't look at the camera. The camera isn't here. I'm not here. It's just Joram and you.”

“So what happens?”

“The story is this,” Stefan began his explanation. “Joram is a guest at your house and you both have to share a bed for the night. You, Samir, are excited by this handsome hunk who you are going to bed with. You want to seduce him, you want to get your own way with him.”

Samir was getting turned on just listening to Stefan describing the scenario.

“Joram is a reserved and sort of upright kinda guy. So when you wake him up, all sexy and wanting him. He is shocked and offended by this young boy next to him. So Joram grabs you, and gives you a spanking.”

“That'll hurt!”

“He won't hit you too hard, just a bit to make it real. It's what the client wants.”

Samir wasn't too sure about this, but then Joram, who hadn't said much at all until this point, spoke up. “Samir, I'm not gonna hurt you, not much.” He laughed and leaned over to tickle Samir under his arms. Which made Samir squirm about and giggle.

“Get serious guys. After that, with you Samir almost naked and Joram getting hard. He will be overwhelmed by his desire and embrace you, etcetera, etcetera. Then it finishes with him turning you over on you stomach, and he fucks you. For the finale, he rolls over bringing you up to rest on top of him. So the camera is looking at you all hard with Joram still buried inside your arse. Then I want you to jerk off and shoot at the camera.”

“Wow!” Samir exhaled the word like a lustful sigh. His cock was already hard.

“Do you think you can do it?” Stefan was watching them. “There's no second chance, one take. When you've come, you've come.” He laughed at his own joke.

They both nodded.

“Okay, so Joram, you get naked and under the sheets. You, Samir leave just your underpants on, but you get undressed for bed when the camera's rolling. That’s the start.”

Samir watched as Joram stripped off his clothes. He admired the athletic build of the young man. His eyes rested on Joram's manhood, which was not fully hard, but getting there. The sight of his semi erect cock sent tingling sensations through Samir's body. He was well built in that department.

Joram was beginning to enjoy his work, he too was getting excited. Excited by having the boy watch him undress, and excited by the prospect of what was to come. He'd reassured Samir that he wouldn't hurt him, but maybe just a little, he thought to himself.

Naked he slipped under the covers and took up his pose, on his side facing away from Samir, pretending sleep.

Stefan was behind the camera. “Okay, this is it. Start!”

Samir kicked off his sneakers, pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, turning to throw it over the back of the armchair.

“That’s good. Not too fast,” Stefan directed.

Samir bent down to remove his jeans, and placed them on the armchair with his t-shirt.

“Look at Joram,” Stefan instructed. “Now turn slowly towards me so we can see your hard on.”

Samir followed Stefan's orders and turned towards the camera, remembering not to look directly at it. He lingered a little while, his hard cock tenting out his underpants. He really was turned on by this.

“Now move into the bed with Joram.”

Samir stepped towards the bed, pulled back the sheets to reveal the naked Joram asleep. The camera lingered on Joram's back and focused in on his buttocks. Stefan pulled back the focus to capture Samir slipping in beside him. Then Joram turned over onto his back, as if disturbed slightly by the youngster, but not enough to wake him.

The camera followed Samir's hand over Joram's chest and down towards his growing erection. “Okay now Samir, take hold of his cock and start to work it.”

Samir gripped the sizeable manhood and started rubbing it up and down. With this stimulation, Joram was reaching a full, magnificently hard erection. He pretended to stir again.

“That's great. Terrific. Now Joram wake up, grab his hand and look surprised. Yes, yes, that’s it, perfect. Pull his hand off and pull him across you.”

Joram took hold of Samir's hand and then his other arm came across and he pulled Samir over until he was resting on his lap. At the same time he squirmed up against the headboard and sat up. Samir went with him, his hard cock resting on top of Joram's erect penis.

“Okay, you both struggle a bit. Joram, pull his pants down and get a hold of his arms.”

Samir was pretending to struggle, wriggling around and kicking his legs. Joram grabbed his pants and pulled them down off Samir's arse. The boy helped by lifting up so he could get them down to just behind his knees. Then Joram took hold of Samir's arms behind his back, at the same time, he swung a leg over both Samir's, stopping him kicking about.

“Perfect,” Stefan told them. “Now I want the soundtrack as you spank him.”

Joram brought his open palm down across Samir's buttocks with a loud smack. “Ow!” Samir yelped. Then again, another loud smack. The camera focused in on the action. Samir really did squirm and wriggle. The smacks were hurting. He felt the heat. The camera picked up the redness of his arse. “Ow! Ow!” Samir's cries got loader. He wanted Joram to stop, but at the same time he was still excited.

Joram could sense that it was enough. He moved from underneath Samir and positioned himself astride the boy who was now lying face down. Joram moved back down the bed and again gripped Samir’s pants, this time pulling them all the way off. He stood up from the end of the bed and moved around to the side.

Samir turned his head to watch Joram. Stefan zoomed in on Samir's face. This is really good. Joram picked up a condom from the bedside table. Tore open the packet. Samir looked on as Joram unrolled the condom over his erect cock. Stefan alternated between Samir's face and Joram's erect cock. The camera stayed with Joram as he picked up the small bottle of lube and anointed his cock. Then it followed him as he moved back to the foot of the bed. Joram reached across and put some lube in the crack between Samir's buttocks.

He discarded the bottle, grabbed both Samir's legs and pulled him down the bed towards him. Samir was positioned with his legs hanging over the end of the bed. Stefan followed the action. It was a bit off script, but never mind. He picked up the camera to walk to the far side of the bed.

Joram placed the forefinger of his right hand into the cleft of Samir's arse cheeks. He moved it, coating his finger with the gel. Then finding the boy's secret entrance he pushed his finger slowly inside. Samir squirmed on the bed. The camera zoomed in.

Next Joram had his penis in the position where his finger had been. Samir bucked and moved his arse as Joram penetrated him.

*****

“That was pretty damned good,” Stefan was telling them as they cleaned up and got dressed.

“So I'll get my phone?” Samir wanted to make the point.

“Sure. Now I will take you back to the camp, and I've got a lot of editing to do.”

Joram didn't say anything, just followed them down the stairs and got in the car. He sat next to Stefan in the front. Samir wasn't sure what to make of the whole deal. It was real enough when Joram was fucking him, but now there was nothing. Plus he didn't like getting his arse smacked. That was crap about “I won't hurt you.” His arse was still warm from it, but never mind, when he got to ejaculate it was fucking awesome. Really awesome, after being turned on, spanked and fucked, getting jerked off by Joram was the ultimate reward. Stefan had loved it all as well.

He left them a hundred metres down the road from the main gates, did a U-turn, and sped off. The two of them parted after walking through the gates. Joram touched him on the arm and asked, “Was it Okay?”

Samir smiled, “I've got a sore arse.”

Joram smiled back, “Sorry.” He went in the direction of the hangars and Samir walked off towards the railway tracks. I hope I get the fucking phone, he said to himself.

---

 

Copyright © 2018 William King; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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