“Did you do this?” asked Omar, in Arabic. I could understand most of the answer:“Yes, Your Royal Highness. I inspected this room for alcohol and...drugs. I am sorry to report he had changed the lock. We had to force it. And he added THIS!”He held up the Sherlock lock in triumph.“Where’s my laptop?” I asked, seething.“I confiscated it. There may be blue movies on it. Or Zionist propaganda. We will need your password.”“Did you find any alcohol or drugs?” I asked.“No. Not this time,” he grinned.. He held my head there, his balls resting on my chin. The black hairs of his pubes tickled my nose.He let out a low guttural growl. My gag reflex kicked in once the swollen head of his cock, reached the back of my throat. He released my head, and removed his cock from my mouth. I gasped for air. Tears streamed down my face, and mixed with the drool, and spittle on my chin. Before I could close my mouth. He lurched forward again repeating the process. His moans becoming more audible with each. More

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