Hey! I love writing taboo stories, and I really appreaciate each comment and feedback. I have 2 main characters, Jack & Connor and most stories are told around them- so if you like to check my other stories, I'd be really happy. Every comment is important for me. <3
Jack and Connor had been looking forward to their week-long holiday in Dubai for months. The sprawling city of luxury and excess was a far cry from their everyday lives back home, but as they sat in the bustling Starbucks near their hotel, the reality of the trip's cost was sinking in. Jack, a towering figure at 6'4" with a thick mat of dark hair covering his broad chest, arms, and legs, sipped his coffee while running a hand through his equally hairy beard. His massive frame filled the chair, and even in casual vacation wear—a tight t-shirt and shorts—his muscular build drew glances. Across from him, Connor, his 20-year-old boyfriend, looked every bit the twunk: lean and toned from gym sessions, standing at 5'10" with smooth, nearly hairless skin that glowed under the café's warm lights. His short-cropped blond hair and boyish face made him seem younger than his years, especially next to Jack's rugged dominance.
"This place is insane," Connor said, scrolling through his phone at the bill for their latest outing. "We've blown through half our budget already, and it's only day three. Those desert safari tickets weren't cheap."
Jack grunted, his deep voice rumbling. "Yeah, but it's worth it. Look at you, all relaxed. We needed this." He reached across the table, squeezing Connor's hand, but his eyes flicked to their shared bank app. The numbers weren't pretty.
That's when the three Arab men approached their table. They moved with a confident swagger, their traditional thobes brushing against the chairs as they closed in. The oldest, Ismail, led the group. In his mid-50s, he was a stocky 5'7" with a thick black beard and mustache that framed his stern face like a lion's mane. His dark eyes scanned the couple with predatory interest. Flanking him were his sons: Zahid, the youngest at 18, matched Jack's height at 6'4" but carried a ripped, muscular physique honed from years of weightlifting. His olive skin was blanketed in dense black hair across his pecs, abs, and trailing down to his crotch. Then there was Nazim, the 32-year-old middle brother, shorter than Connor at 5'8", with a soft belly overhanging his belt but an explosion of coarse hair sprouting from his chest, back, and limbs, giving him a bearish, unkempt vibe.
"Excuse me," Ismail said in a heavy accent, his voice gravelly and commanding. "You two look like you're enjoying Dubai, but perhaps money is tight? We can help. Ten thousand US dollars. Cash. Right now."
Jack's eyebrows shot up, his hairy forearm tensing as he set down his cup. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Connor leaned forward, curiosity sparking in his blue eyes. "Yeah, for what?"
Ismail smiled, revealing yellowed teeth, and glanced at his sons, who nodded. "Simple. We want to fuck your boy here. Hard. All of us. You watch. One hour, in your hotel. That's it."
The words hung in the air like a bomb. Jack's face flushed red, his massive fists clenching under the table. "Get the fuck out of here. We're not some cheap—"
"Wait," Connor interrupted, his voice shaky but intrigued. He shot Jack an apologetic look. "Ten grand? That's... that's our whole trip covered and more."
Ismail chuckled, pulling a thick wad of bills from his pocket to flash it briefly before tucking it away. "More than that. You'll forget the expense. But we do it our way. Rough. No limits."
Jack's jaw tightened, anger boiling in his chest. He was the top, the protector—how could he let this happen? But the money... it would change everything. Debts paid, freedom. "One hour," he growled finally. "And that's it. No more."
The Arabs agreed with nods, their eyes gleaming. As the group left Starbucks and walked the short distance to the couple's luxury hotel, introductions flowed. Ismail explained he was the father, a wealthy importer who'd brought his boys along for a 'family bonding' trip. Zahid, the muscular teen, smirked silently, his tank top straining against his hairy chest. Nazim, the older brother, laughed too loudly at his own jokes, his belly jiggling.
In the elevator to the 15th-floor suite, the air thickened with anticipation. Jack's heart pounded; Connor's hand trembled in his. Once inside the spacious room with its king-sized bed and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Burj Khalifa, Ismail wasted no time. "Set alarms," he ordered Zahid. "Forty-five minutes and one hour. From now."
Zahid pulled out his phone, the beeps echoing as he complied. Nazim grabbed a black silk blindfold from his bag—clearly prepared—and roughly tied it over Connor's eyes, plunging him into darkness. "On your knees, white boy," Nazim snarled, shoving Connor to the plush carpet. The twink dropped, his smooth knees hitting the floor, heart racing.
Jack sank into the armchair by the bed, his huge cock twitching traitorily in his shorts despite the rage. "Be careful with him," he warned, but his voice lacked conviction.
Ismail laughed, the three men circling Connor like wolves. They stripped off their thobes and shorts in unison, revealing their bodies. Ismail's dad bod was hairy as fuck, a forest of black curls from neck to toes, his uncut cock already semi-hard at 9 inches, thick as a wrist with bulging veins snaking along the shaft. Zahid's 18-year-old frame was a sculpted masterpiece, abs rippling under fur, his BBC—big black Arab cock—hanging heavy at 10 inches, foreskin peeled back to show a glistening head. Nazim's shorter, paunchy build reeked the worst, his 8.5-inch veiny monster nestled in a jungle of pubic hair that hadn't seen a trim in weeks.
As their shorts hit the floor, the room filled with a pungent wave: stale piss, dried cum, and sour sweat from days without a shower. It hit Jack like a slap, making his nose wrinkle, but Connor, blindfolded, inhaled deeply, his cock stirring in confusion.
"Open wide, twink slut," Ismail commanded, grabbing Connor's jaw and forcing his mouth open. He thrust in first, his thick beard scratching Connor's cheeks as he buried his hairy balls against the boy's chin. Connor gagged instantly, the salty, musky taste overwhelming—unwashed skin mixed with old semen. Ismail facefucked him mercilessly, hips slamming forward, his cock stretching Connor's throat until tears soaked the blindfold.
Zahid went next, yanking Ismail out and ramming his longer shaft down. "Suck it, you little white bitch," he growled, race play dripping from his words. "Arabs own this hole now." Connor choked, saliva bubbling from his lips as Zahid's extreme pubic bush tickled his nose, the smell of sweat-soaked hair making his head spin. Nazim followed, his belly pressing against Connor's forehead as he skull-fucked the twink, grunting, "Take daddy's brother's load, fag."
They rotated for ten minutes, each man throat-pounding Connor until his voice was hoarse, spit dripping down his chin onto his shirt. Jack watched, fists gripping the chair arms, his own massive 11-inch cock hardening against his will, tenting his shorts. The voyeurism burned—his boyfriend reduced to a cum dump for these hairy Arab strangers.
"Enough," Ismail barked, hauling Connor up by the hair and tossing him onto the bed face-up. "Strip him." Zahid and Nazim ripped off Connor's clothes, exposing his smooth twunk body—toned abs, perky ass, and a modest 6-inch cock leaking pre-cum. Blindfolded and vulnerable, Connor whimpered.
Nazim climbed on first, straddling Connor's chest and lowering his huge, hairy ass onto the boy's face. The cheeks, matted with sweat smothered Connor completely. "Lick it clean, white boy," Nazim ordered, grinding down. Connor's tongue darted out hesitantly, rimming the puckered hole, tasting the bitter tang of unwashed ass. He lapped deeper, tongue probing the hairy crack as Nazim moaned, his belly heaving.
Ismail knelt between Connor's spread legs, spitting on his fingers before shoving two into the twink's tight hole. Connor bucked, muffled cries vibrating against Nazim's ass as Ismail twisted and scissored, stretching him roughly. "Tight little pussy," Ismail muttered, adding a third finger, ignoring the pained gasps.
Zahid rummaged in his bag, emerging with a massive black dildo—12 inches long, girthy as a fist, veined silicone. "Found it," he grinned, waving it like a trophy.
Nazim shifted slightly, still face-sitting but angling his hips so his cock dangled toward Connor's mouth. "Suck while you rim," he demanded, forcing the head past Connor's lips. Now the twink multitasked: tongue buried in Nazim's ass, mouth slurping the veiny shaft sliding in and out. Ismail, meanwhile, lubed his own cock with spit and slammed into Connor's ass, bottoming out in one brutal thrust. The twink's hole clenched in pain, but Ismail pounded relentlessly, his hairy balls slapping against smooth skin.
"Fuck, he's tight," Ismail groaned, hips pistoning. Connor's body jerked with each impact, his rimming sloppy now as he gagged on Nazim's cock.
After five minutes of this assault, Zahid tapped Nazim's shoulder. "My turn." Nazim reluctantly lifted off, his ass leaving Connor's face slick with saliva and sweat. Zahid lay beside Connor on the bed, propping himself on elbows. "Worship me, slut." He guided Connor's blindfolded head to his crotch.
Connor's nose pressed into Zahid's hairy balls first—heavy, low-hanging orbs reeking of musk and piss. He inhaled deeply, the animalistic scent making his head fuzzy, then licked, sucking one ball into his mouth while tonguing the wrinkled skin. Zahid sighed, flexing his muscular thighs. "Good boy. Now the pits."
They maneuvered Connor up, his face shoved into Zahid's left armpit—a dense bush of black hair, damp with sweat, smelling sharply of BO and salt. Connor sniffed like a dog in heat, tongue lapping the hairy fold, savoring the raw, masculine tang. He switched to the right pit, burying his nose as Zahid stroked his hair. "That's it, white twink. Arabs taste better than your hairy boyfriend, huh?"
Ismail, still buried balls-deep, grabbed the dildo from Zahid and yanked his cock out. Without warning, he pressed the massive toy against Connor's gaping hole and shoved. The head popped in, stretching the ring painfully wide. Connor screamed into Zahid's armpit, body arching, but Ismail forced more in—half the length now, twisting it to grind against his prostate. Pain shot through Connor, tears streaming, but his cock throbbed traitorily.
Jack, from his chair, was rock-hard now, his huge cock straining, pre-cum soaking his shorts. The sight—his smooth boyfriend defiled by these stinking, hairy Arabs—stirred a dark cuckold thrill he hated admitting.
Ismail pulled the dildo out and discarded it, spitting into Connor's hole before plunging his fist in. Knuckles first, then wrist-deep. Connor's cries turned to sobs, his ass burning as Ismail's hairy forearm twisted inside, fingers curling to punch the walls. "Stop! Please, it hurts!" Connor begged, voice breaking.
"Shut him up," Ismail ordered. Nazim grabbed Connor's head, forcing it back to Zahid's cock. The twink's mouth engulfed the thick shaft, gagging as Zahid facefucked him shallowly to muffle the pleas.
Jack surged from the chair, rage overtaking him. "Enough! Get off him!" But Nazim was faster, tackling Jack back and snapping handcuffs from his bag around the big man's wrists, chaining him to the chair. "Watch, cuck. Or no money."
Helpless, Jack strained against the metal, his erection throbbing painfully as he watched Ismail fist deeper, Connor's hole prolapsing slightly on withdrawal, red and raw.
The fisting lasted agonizing minutes—Ismail alternating punches and spreads until Connor went limp, whimpering around Zahid's cock. Finally, Ismail withdrew, his arm slick with lube and ass juices.
"DP time," Zahid announced, flipping Connor onto his stomach. The brothers positioned: Zahid slid under, lifting Connor's hips to impale him on his 10-inch BBC reverse-cowboy style. Connor sank down with a pained yelp, the stretch immense. Nazim knelt behind, spitting on his cock before forcing it alongside Zahid's. The double penetration was brutal—two thick shafts grinding together inside Connor's ruined hole, tearing screams from his throat.
Ismail knelt in front, grabbing Connor's hair to facefuck him again, his beard scraping the twink's neck. The trio rutted like animals: Zahid thrusting up from below, his hairy abs flexing; Nazim hammering from behind, belly slapping Connor's back; Ismail skull-fucking until Connor's throat bulged.
Pain radiated through Connor—his ass felt split open, the friction burning, but waves of unwanted pleasure built from the prostate abuse. The room reeked: sweat, ass, pre-cum, the Arabs' unwashed stench overpowering.
The 45-minute alarm blared, but they ignored it, pounding harder. "Almost time," Ismail grunted, but his hips didn't slow.
As the hour neared, they dragged Connor to the floor, forcing him to his knees. Blindfold still on, he knelt trembling. Ismail aimed first, unleashing a hot stream of piss across Connor's chest, the acrid yellow liquid soaking his skin. Zahid grabbed Connor's throat, choking him lightly as Nazim pried his mouth open and pissed directly down his throat. Connor sputtered, swallowing what he could, the bitter taste flooding his senses as piss splashed his face and hair.
"Drink it, cum dump," Zahid hissed, tightening his grip until Connor's vision blurred behind the blindfold.
The full hour alarm rang as they hauled him back to the bed for the finale. Zahid and Nazim resumed DP, slamming in unison, their hairy bodies slick. Ismail pulled out of Connor's mouth to jerk over his face, but no—they wanted creampies. Ismail took Nazim's place, the father and son now double-stuffing the twink's ass while Nazim facefucked.
Connor was a broken mess, body shaking, hole gaping around the invading cocks. They roared in unison, cumming deep: Ismail's load first, thick ropes flooding Connor's guts; Zahid next, his teen seed mixing in; Nazim pulling out to shoot the last spurts into the overflowing hole. Cum leaked out in creamy rivers, Connor's ass a sloppy cum dump.
Five minutes left on the clock. They weren't done. Spotting Jack's raging hard-on, Zahid smirked. "Your turn, cuck. Fuck your slut." They uncuffed Jack just enough to free his cock, then lifted Connor—blindfold removed now, his eyes red and teary—and impaled him on Jack's huge 11-inch beast.
Connor sank down, the Arabs' cum squelching as lube, Jack's girth stretching him further. "Fuck him," Ismail ordered, holding a knife to Jack's throat for emphasis. Jack, humiliated and aroused, gripped Connor's hips and thrust up, pounding his boyfriend's wrecked ass. The sensation—sloppy with Arab seed—pushed him over, and he came hard, adding his load to the creampie mess.
The Arabs dressed, tossing the 10k wad on the bed. "Pleasure doing business," Ismail said, leading his family out. The door clicked shut.
Connor collapsed into Jack's arms, blindfold discarded, body aching from the non-con ordeal. They hugged tightly, the money a bitter salve, the infidelity's sting lingering amid the piss-soaked sheets and cum-scented room.
