Straight
Arab Taxi Driver's Rank Feet
by Ant
85
<<
Back
to Stories Index
This is a true story
I had just finished dinner one evening with a friend at a Beirut
restaurant before parting ways. As she walked home, I waited on
the side of the road, waiting for a cab to take me home, roughly
a 10 minute drive.
A cab pulls up, agrees on my ride and fare – in Beirut you
have to agree to a price before you get into a cab, there’s
no meter here – and I sit in the front. I’m instantly
drawn to the aura of the driver. He is the quintessential, masculine
Arab man, shaved head, short and meaty, mid 40s, oozing a raw masculine
sexuality.
Throughout the journey I couldn’t take my eyes off his crotch,
and I would slowly adjust mine to see if it would get his attention.
This is my way of testing if they’re interested or not. So
far, nothing, he looks straight ahead on the road, remains focused
on the journey.
I notice he continually adjusts his crotch, nothing out of the ordinary,
a common adjustment most men in Lebanon aren’t ashamed of
doing publicly.
As we arrive closer to my destination, he asks “where would
you like me to drop you off?” I, eyes still roaming on his
crotch as he again adjusts himself, muster the guts to ask him:
“would you like a hand with that?”
“A hand with what?” he reacts with surprise, noticing
that I’m staring at his crotch.
“I notice you keep on putting your hand there, need some help
with that?” I ask him.
He smirks, “you like it?” referring to his cock. “Yes,”
I responded.
“I have no problem with that,” he said, as I move to
rub his cock as he continues to drive.
My cock is throbbing at the thought of having this meaty, Arab,
straight, very likely married man to myself.
I direct him to my house, and we head straight to the bedroom.
The man hasn’t showered for at least a day, these cabbies
work extremely long hours and are usually rank with sweat.
The thought of having my nose inhaling this sexy, mucho Arab’s
manly rank was sending me wild.
He sits on the edge of my bed and waits for me to start unzipping
him. I told him to lie flat on my bed, to which he removed his shoes.
The rank smell of the man’s socked feet, having been sweating
in those shoes for 24 hours, immediately filled the room.
I began to rub his crotch with one hand, and placed another hand
on his socked foot. He let out a soft moan as I began to massage
his socked feet, wet with sweat, while rubbing his cock through
his pants with the other hand.
“Do you like the foot rub?” I ask him. “Yes, but
my feet have a strong smell.”
I bend down to sniff his feet, spend a few seconds sniffing up and
down, inhaling the rank, sweaty socked feet. He wiggles his toes
as my nose traces his foot, offering the odd kiss.
“They don’t stink?” he asked sarcastically, with
a smile on his face, clearly enjoying my worshipping of his rank
feet.
“Can I take off your socks?” I ask, to which he nodded
in approval.
I remove his wet, sweaty socks and proceed to rub his naked feet.
They’re everything I’ve ever imagined and wanted. Size
10, with meaty toes, trimmed nails, with the toes aligned perfectly.
“They’re dirty” I said to him.
“I haven’t washed all day,” he replied.
“Do you want me to clean them?” I ask with a smirk on
my face.
“Clean them!” he commanded.
I dug in straight away. My tongue headed straight for the big toe,
sucking on it, to which he let out a moan. I began moving my tongue
in between each toe to ensure they were completely clean of dirt
and sweat. I could taste the stinky sweat between his toes, and
his foot flavour was salty and tasted of a masculine man that had
been at work all day.
I moved my tongue down his foot to the sole, inhaling with my nose
the strong odour while I licked his filth away.
I repeated the same motion with his second foot, briefly looking
up to notice he had begun playing with his cock while I was licking
his rank feet.
I left his feet, now dripping in my saliva, to his crotch and unzipped
his pants, revealing the large bulge dying to get out.
He began moaning and agitating as I grasped the cock in my hand.
The feeling of my tongue touching the knob of his cock sent shivers
through him, as I proceeded to devour his 8 inch thick, uncut Arab
cock, burying my face in his sweaty, rank crotch as I bobbed my
head up and down.
He moaned continuously, particularly when I perched the cock between
my lips and slapped it on my tongue. I was clearly a slut he could
use, and he enjoyed every moment of being the overpowering Arab
mucho man with a boy whore to service him.
At this stage I was wearing only my underwear, and was bent over
to the side as I worked his cock as he laid flat on my bed. He began
to rub my ass as my cock and ball sucking sent him wild. He shifted
my underwear to my crack, effectively giving me a G-string, and
started spanking my ass as he began pumping my mouth with greater
ferocity.
The excitement was too much for him, and we changed positions. He
said he didn’t fuck, probably an attempt to retain whatever
heterosexual notion he had in his head. So I laid my head on the
edge of the bed, and he shoved his cock from above, face fucking
me, forcing me to choke and gag on his big cock, allowing only a
momentary grasp of air, before shoving his Arab meat down my throat
again. His sweaty, rank balls were bouncing up and down on my nose,
suffocating my air, as he rammed my throat with his cock.
This seemingly went forever, and his moans and grunts got louder
and louder, until he finally withdrew from my face, and blew his
load all over my face: one stroke, two strokes, three strokes, until
my face was completely covered with his white cream.
He pulled his pants up, threw on his socks and shoes, and left.
That was my straight Beirut cab night. I’m hoping I run into
him on the Beirut streets again.
|