in conversation, en français, bien sûr.

I sent them (and the barman) a drink and all went very smoothly. Before long they did the old Royal Navy “One-Two-Three", that is to say that they decided which of them was mine for the night, the other one fixed himself up with a ride home with somebody else, and "mine" made it plain we could leave when I liked.

We did so, discreetly separately, and met up at my car. Maher, for it was he, asked if we could have a drink at another place, where we ran into (?fixed in advance?) a Tunisian chum of his with red-hair. Now there is something vastly intriguing about Arabs with red hair, even if you’re not into red-haired European boys (which I am!), because it’s so unusual. This one was not over-pretty, but seemed to have some sort of proprietorial rights on M, so I played the game.

Another place was added to the itinerary, a dimly lit "night club" in another hotel, where I spent my time gazing at the barman and M was cruising a girl on the dance floor.

I pleaded immense tiredness and an early start, and managed to drag him out. On the way to Hergla, his home town, a tiny town about 15 km up the coast towards Hammamet) I found a quiet spot in the orchards and gave satisfaction all round with a massive blow-job and a finger up you know where). That was Sunday.

Monday it was M’s chum Saïd’s turn to be the object of my lust. Almost identical set-up, except that he took his drink less well, so there were no stops en route to Hergla, except on a track near the sea when we got there. Blowing was then performed, and I don’t think it was any commentary on my prowess (but rather an acknowledgement of how much he had drunk) when he forthwith opened the passenger door and threw up!

Tuesday was a variation on a theme of Paganini. I had a date, fixed in advance, to bring a car-less Dutch couple who ran a luxury hotel in my French hideout, Bagnols, and were holidaying in Port E.K., to meet my boss, who was big on food and wine and hotels. So I told les boys that I would be much later and couldn’t fix a time, and for discretion reasons made the date in another establishment.

In the end I found them, and they were both ready to be taken back straight away to Hergla - with a stop in the orange groves on the way of course. So this time I had both of them at one and the same time. Interesting experience, because theoretically at least, neither would have admitted to such activities to the other, much less participated in them together (well, I think so) but there was evident pleasure on shy-ish S’s part, and no marked disgust from M.

I operated Jojo Speciality #5, namely blowing both of them at the same time, and it worked like a charm. If anything is likely to turn a het on, it’s the feel of his best mate’s dick rubbing up against his own, in one of some third party’s orifices.

By this time I had discovered that M was a baker’s boy, so he was up molto early. S’s status in life was much vaguer, probably unemployed or M‘s catamite. I dropped them off, having made a date for the morrow, got lost on the way back to Hannibal, arrived