The Refugee Center

It took time to cleave the hard-drinking German girls even a moment from the draughts, but Julia had convinced them finally a day of volunteering wasn't a bad thing.

So Heidi and Julia and Matilda, the third of the trio, went to the local refugee center. Matilda worked in the kitchens, while Julia and Heidi helped one of the newest men with their paperwork. Heidi helped the older man, in his 50s, with a heavy limp, in sitting down.

"Why we have a lame man here, is beyond me," Heidi complained.

"Because they need the help," Julia responded flatly. She showed Heidi his identification card. "His name is Ittack, and he's Syrian. You know what is happening down there. He had to come here for a better life. And he can contribute."

"What could a man like him possibly contribute?" Heidi asked skeptically. Julia looked down at his crotch. The tattered trousers did little to disguise the man's growing lump in the presence of the willowy blonde and boisterous German woman.

"What? Oh my God!" Heidi said. Julia moved her chair closer to Ittack, and motioned for Heidi to do the same on the other side. Ittack was getting hard indeed.

"C'mon, Heidi. You're giving the white boys a free pass all the time. Do the man a favor," Julia said. She wasn't asking. Heidi paused, internally weighing the decision, before she finally undid the tattered trousers. It was an impressive snake of a cock, over eight inches long. She started to tug on it, transfixed.

"Jesus," Heidi whispered quietly.

"Jesus ain't the cause of that, sweetie. You need a broader world view," Julia said, chuckling.