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[Ronnie Hamilton]

I have mentioned this story to several friends on this forum and I thought to write about it because for me, there’s nothing quite like an unplanned interracial gangbang. I think the element of surprise and spontaneity – requiring me to extract myself by literally fucking my way out of trouble makes it all the more sexy.

So this happened in Tunisia long before Covid…

“Salaam aleikoum, Miss”.

Looking back, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when it happened. If I’m going to fuck around, I should expect evidence to emerge at some point. What I did not expect however were the circumstances. I mean, there I was spending a quiet morning at the waterfront market in the port of Sidi Bou Said where my husband and I were living as expats. There wasn’t much else in my plans beyond a quiet morning at the waterfront market followed by an afternoon by the pool at the club. Why I’d even taken to wearing a modest outfit (a lovely white light linen coat dress buttoned just below the neck to mid calf )–in the hope of avoiding attention.

But some girls just attract trouble.

“Sala’am Aleikoum. miss, are you a model ? I am Abdul and these are my friends. Come, we buy you drink, yes ? ” (groan, if I had a dollar for each time I’ve heard that line).

“No thank you. I’d like to be alone”.

The brush off didn’t work quite as well as I would have wished because they just stood there – letting their eyes feast on my body because the linen dress was rapidly turning out to be a poor choice. The cut of my dress might have been sensible but the linen was fast becoming transparent and clingy in the heat and humidity – leaving very little unseen and not helped by the skimpy white bikini I was wearing under it with the intention of catching some pool time at the club after the market.

“I think maybe you are pornographic model”, Abdul said insistently as he pushed his Iphone in my direction. And there it was, a clip of me from the torso up, pleasuring myself in a Jacuzzi, eyes shut, my fingers frantically tugging my nipples as the jets below probed the tender folds of my pussy – bringing me to a very visible climax. My husband, Tom later reminded me that this was a clip taken when I agreed to promote a middle eastern spa for business travelers months ago.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She looks nothing like me”. Famous last words because this was just as the frame closed in to show my face mid orgasm.

“Maybe we let police decide. Yes ?”

Police ? Bugger. It was Thursday and police involvement admitted the possibility of me spending the ensuing day, friday in custody. Tunisia is a Muslim country after all where Fridays were the equivalent of the weekend.

I’m not certain if my appearance in a video clip sharing site constitutes a crime in these parts but can reasonably expect religious sensibilities to be offended. In any case, I wasn’t prepared to admit the risk of Tunisia’s finest detaining me at their leisure if it took their fancy. I consider myself the adventurous type and although I do have fantasies (who doesn’t ?) of being handcuffed and helpless at the mercy of swarthy foreign men in uniform but not if there was no certainty of knowing when I’d get out .

Time for a change of tact.

“We don’t have to involve the police, do we? Please ?” I said in a faltering voice. Silence but it was clear that the tables had turned. “There are other ways to settle this”.

“Perhaps, I could make it worth your while,” I said biting my lower lip and lowering my eyes – but the meaning wasn’t loss on them when I followed up with, “I’ll do anything you want” – and I looked pointedly at the video clip which was now showing me being fucked senseless by a crowd of strangers.

And that triggered excited jabbering among the group – in arabic but their gestures and demeanour left no doubt that they knew they had me.

I did have to learn some Arabic when I worked as a stewardess for a Middle Eastern Airline and although it’s a little rusty, I recalled enough to understand one of the louder strangers suggesting that they could just slip me a roofie and gangbang me. No, that wouldn’t do and things were rapidly spinning out of control if I wasn’t careful. I may have lost control of the situation but I still want to be fully aware of what was happening.

And so I very deliberately and slowly said the only Arabic phrase I could recall from my training as an air stewardess, “ana la 'aqawam – which means: I am not resisting” (learned as part my training to de-escalate a hijacking – but I’ve used it in other situations !).

The North Africans began to whoop and high five each other when they heard that. So there I was, on the verge of being fucked by another group of strangers in a foreign land. Sure, I'd done it countless times before but as many times as I'd done it, there was always that delicious taste of fear in turning myself over to a group of men to do as they wanted – now that I have agreed to be their sexual plaything in return for their discretion. My body will be theirs to use and it was super arousing.

And the North Africans certainly got a view of what was in store because the white linen dress I was wearing was unlined and had begun to become see through in the African humidity. I pretended not to notice – and this only encouraged them to suggest we went somewhere less public.

I felt I really did not have a choice as the group of men firmly shepherded me into a convenient nearby building – which happened to be a workman’s Hammam. It must have been quite a sight for the workers there when they saw an English woman frogmarched through the door, chest out and her arms pinned behind her and accompanied by a crowd of North Africans.

I remembered the cautionary tales given by other expat wives when I first arrived in Tunisia to avoid placing ourselves in the company of strangers away from the public eye because that’s when things can really get out of hand.

And they did.

I barely had a moment to take in my surroundings as the workers joined the men around me – but saw enough to know it was appalling. The place smelt of oil and sweat; and the humidity was intolerable. Being white and unlined, both my dress and bikini had become sheer in the humidity o f the hammam, I might as well be naked because they could see every curve of my body, the outline of my hardening nipples, the curve of my bum and cleft of my pussy.

They took me to a corner which must have been the rest area because there was a table, some tin mugs and the walls were plastered with girlie calendars.

"Come closer”. Nervously, I complied as the group ogled my body made easier because my dress was by thoroughly soaked in the humid air and clung to me like wet tissue. I blushed, but only slightly because I was also secretly quite proud of my toned lean body – which was maintained through a rigorous gym routine (there wasn’t much else to do in a Muslim country). I knew very well what these men wanted and so I turned to face Abdul, struggling to keep my face impassive as he and his pals looked me over – like a pack of ravenous wolves circling a deer.

I was strangely aroused to find myself once again in a position where I had no defence against being sexually used by a group of strange men. I was panting at the anticipation of abuse which I’d have to endure to stay out of trouble.

"You undress ," ordered Abdul, his voice hoarse with lust. As aroused as I was, I was also determined to slow things down a little. I very deliberately and slowly began to unbutton the front of my dress. It was too slow for the assembled crowd because Abdul moved in and roughly tore it open before shoving his hand into the ruined neckline of my dress.

Abdul’s eyes taunted me as he took my firm tits in his hands and then pinched my taut nipples through the sheer fabric of my bikini top. I gasped as I felt his fingers close around my tender nipples. I felt a pair of anonymous hands on my back and as they pulled on the slender string of my bikini and the back fell open. The bikini was held in place only by the firmness of my boobs as they filled the sheer cups.

Things were moving a lot faster than I was used to. It was scary, yet exciting as I was roughly pushed backwards against the man holding me tight from behind and as I bumped against him, his hands greedily came from behind to grope my tits. There really wasn’t any escape as he peeled my bikini down. As I felt the soft material slip from around my breasts, I also felt someone else pull the string around my neck as the bow came undone. Any pretence of civility was dispelled when my breasts came into view (it really must have been a long cruise) – because the men just closed in.

As the bikini top fell to the floor, anonymous hands sought my breasts, pinching and pulling on my taut and tender nipples making me moan and writhe as countless fingers pulled at them .

I was truly defenceless to the multiple pairs of hands (too many) reaching out, squeezing my boobs, rubbing them – feeling one then the other roughly. I held my breath as those hands lingered briefly before squeezing my tits, testing their firmness gently at first before getting progressively rougher when I did not protest.

I quivered under those hands, and then closed my eyes and moaned softly as one of them then bent his head to roughly chew on one of my tits – exerting just enough pressure on the sensitive nipple with his sharp teeth to elicit a moan from me.



---(to be continued)