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The Filthy Streets of Amman
Mustapha was a goddamn animal tearing through the grimy, sweat-soaked streets of Amman like a fucking hurricane. This Jordanian arab gay alpha was a beast of a man—thick, matted beard dripping with spit and sweat, a chest so hairy you could lose your fingers in it, and muscles carved from years of throwing crates around the souk like they were toys. At 32, he’d fucked his way through every desperate hole in the city’s underground, his cock a veiny, throbbing monster that left asses gaping and throats raw. His dark, greasy skin shone under the brutal sun, and those eyes—black as tar—promised to rip your soul out through your asshole while you begged for more.
Tonight, his balls were swollen, heavy with cum and itching to explode. The air was a thick stew of shawarma grease, piss, and desperation as he prowled a shitty alley where arab gay sluts traded their dignity for dick in the shadows. Mustapha didn’t give two fucks about the laws or the sanctimonious pricks who’d cut his throat if they caught him—he was a walking god, untouchable. His stained, ripped tank top barely clung to his sweaty pecs, and his jeans were stretched to the limit, the outline of his fat cock swinging like a meat club with every step.
The Twink Whore in the Dark
Then he saw him—Karim, a skinny little arab gay bitch, barely 19, slouched against a crumbling wall like a street rat begging to be fucked. Smooth as a shaved pussy, with big, watery eyes and lips that screamed “choke me with cock,” he was a walking wet dream for a predator like Mustapha. The alpha’s dick twitched hard, already leaking a fat drop of precum into his boxers. “Hey, ya little cumrag,” he growled, his voice a low rumble of gravel and lust. “You lost, or you here to get your tight ass split open?”
Karim stammered some half-assed lie, cheeks flushing red, but Mustapha wasn’t in the mood for bullshit. He stomped over, grabbed the twink’s throat with a meaty paw, and hissed, “Don’t fucking play with me, ya arab gay pig—I can smell your needy cunt from here.” Karim’s pathetic little prick was already tenting his cheap jeans, a wet spot spreading. Mustapha smirked, dragged the slut into the darkest corner of the alley, and slammed him face-first into the piss-stained bricks, ripping those pants down to expose a tiny, quivering asshole begging to be demolished.
Ramming the Slut’s Throat
“Knees, now, you cock-sucking dog,” Mustapha barked, yanking his zipper down. His dick flopped out—a nine-inch arab gay battering ram, thick as a wrist, veins pulsing, and dripping with slimy precum. Karim dropped like a trained whore, gagging as he tried to stuff it in his mouth, his jaw stretching wide while Mustapha rammed it down his throat. “Fucking choke on it, you worthless piece of shit,” he snarled, grabbing Karim’s hair and skull-fucking him so hard the twink’s nose smashed into his sweaty pubes. Spit and snot bubbled out, dripping down Karim’s chin, but the little bitch moaned like a pig in heat, slurping and sucking like his life depended on it.
Mustapha didn’t ease up—he grabbed the twink’s head with both hands and pounded his face, his balls slapping Karim’s chin with wet, meaty thuds. “You like that, huh? Fucking arab gay trash, born to eat my dick,” he spat, watching the kid’s eyes roll back as he gagged and choked. Karim’s hands clawed at Mustapha’s thighs, desperate for air, but the alpha didn’t give a fuck—he kept thrusting, turning that pretty mouth into a sloppy, drooling mess until he finally yanked out, leaving the twink gasping and coughing up strings of spit.
Shredding the Asshole Raw
Mustapha wasn’t done—he hauled Karim up by the neck, spun him around, and bent him over like a cheap fucktoy. He spat a thick, nasty glob right onto that tight, puckered hole, rubbing it in with his thumb. “Time to get your fucking guts rearranged, ya arab gay cumdump,” he sneered, lining up his cock and slamming it in balls-deep with one savage thrust. Karim screamed like a bitch getting gutted, his asshole tearing open, a trickle of blood mixing with the spit as Mustapha laughed and started pounding. The sound of wet flesh slapping echoed, loud and filthy, as he drilled that hole like a jackhammer.
The twink’s legs shook, his body jerking with every brutal thrust, but Mustapha didn’t slow down. He grabbed Karim’s hips, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise, and fucked him so deep the kid’s stomach bulged. “Take it, you fucking slut—beg for my cock,” he roared, slapping Karim’s ass until it glowed red. “Please, fuck me, ruin me!” Karim sobbed, his voice cracking as his tiny dick leaked precum onto the filthy ground. Mustapha grinned, loving the power, knowing he could break this arab gay whore and leave him a whimpering wreck.
Fucking Like Rabid Dogs
Sweat poured off Mustapha’s hairy back, soaking his tank top as he pounded Karim’s ass into a sloppy, gaping mess. His balls slapped against the twink’s thighs, heavy and wet, while the kid clawed at the wall, drooling and moaning like a brain-dead fucktoy. “You love this arab gay dick wrecking your shithole, don’t you, ya filthy pig?” Mustapha taunted, yanking Karim’s head back by the hair and slamming in so hard the twink’s prostate turned to mush. “Yes, fuck, harder!” Karim wailed, his ass clenching and farting wetly around the alpha’s cock.
Mustapha flipped the bitch onto a pile of rotting trash, spreading those skinny legs wide like a street whore. “Look at me while I rip your fucking soul out,” he spat, plunging back in with a squelch, his cock sliding through the mess of spit, blood, and ass-juice. Karim’s eyes rolled back, his mouth hanging open as Mustapha fucked him into oblivion, the crate creaking under the force. The alley stank of sweat, cum, and raw sex—a perfect playground for a savage like him.
Unloading the Beast
The rhythm turned feral—Mustapha’s hairy ass clenched, his cock pulsing as he chased his load. Karim was a babbling, cum-drunk wreck, clawing at Mustapha’s chest, screaming, “Fill my fucking ass, Daddy, breed me!” That snapped it—Mustapha roared like a goddamn bull, slamming in so hard Karim’s hips cracked, and unloaded a flood of thick, hot cum straight into that wrecked hole. Rope after rope blasted out, overflowing and dripping down the twink’s thighs as he convulsed, his own pathetic dick spurting a weak, watery load across his belly.
Mustapha yanked out with a wet, sloppy pop, his cock dripping a mix of cum, blood, and filth. He spat a fat glob onto Karim’s fucked-out face and smirked. “Good little bitch. Next time, I’m bringing my crew to gangbang your worthless ass.” He strutted off, leaving the twink twitching in a puddle of trash and jizz, his hole leaking like a busted pipe, mind shattered from the brutal fuck.
The Alpha’s Filthy Legacy
Word spread like wildfire through Amman’s underbelly. Every arab gay slut in the city was jerking off to Mustapha’s name, swapping stories of his savage fucks and that donkey-dick that turned tight holes into cum-soaked craters. He didn’t give a fuck about the chatter—he kept hunting, a predator in a city too chickenshit to cage him. Karim couldn’t walk for a week, hobbling through the souk with a wrecked ass, jerking off every night to the memory of being split open like a cheap whore.
Mustapha, meanwhile, was already scoping his next prey. He’d fucked half the twinks in Jordan, but his appetite was endless—every alley, every shadow was a chance to claim another hole. He’d piss on the rules, spit in the face of danger, and keep ramming his way to the top, a filthy, unstoppable king of the arab gay underworld.
