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Persian Lust Song ....(78k)    by Erak-el-Rashid

INTRODUCTION

Persian Lust song is, without a doubt, one of the great erotic classics of the world. It was introduced to European readers by the German scholar, Ludwig von Weimar, who discovered the Persian original and translated it into German in the last decade of the Eighteenth Century.

Literature is replete with stories of men so enamored with sexual intercourse and the sex act they could, as it were, fuck at the drop of a hat, but Persian Lust Song is one of those rare works in which the author, Eraker-Rashid, (1247-1339), gives a graphic account of his own intimate sexual experiences. There existed as early as the Eighth Century of our era an Arabian story enclosed in a framework similar to that of Persian Lust Song, telling of a young man who, by virtue of his social position and sexual ability, had free license to the ladies of the royal court, but the manuscript was destroyed by fire in the Baghdad Museum of Arts and Sciences in 1921.

Unlike most ancient works of literature, there is no dispute among scholars as to the date and place of origin of Persian Lust Song. Along with the original manuscript were discovered copious biographical notes, plus long and numerous letters to family and friends. Persian Lust Song was written in the city of Tabriz of ancient Persia-now Iran-in the year 1276. According to information learned from the biographical notes Eraker-Rashid was also the author of numerous works of nonfiction, but if any of these exist they have never been found.

Since von Weimar's translation appeared in Germany, Persian Lust Song has been translated into every major language of the world. The English version of Persian Lust Song, taken from von Weimar's original German rendition and published in London in 1924, had a stiff awkwardness of style the native of the United States today would find rather lofty and stilted. We are therefore indebted to Messrs. L. P. Ipworth's Sons for permission to re-write their interpretation of Persian Lust Song into one more nearly resembling the informal style of narrative so popular in the United States today.

The following information about Eraker-Rashid and the time in which he lived was compiled and written from biographical notes by Ludwig von Weimar and published with his first German edition of Persian Lust Song in Dusseldorf, Germany in 1791.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The aspiring young writer, Eraker-Rashid, his head in a whirl, had just left the house of the famous teacher Musa, a man whose favorable opinion any young author in Persia highly prized. He had been listening to Musa's praise of his first literary effort, a short piece entitled: 'A Variation of Position'; sub-titled: 'How To Fuck Standing Up.' "This is true art!" the enraptured teacher had cried as he concluded his comments. "This is a service to mankind! To you, noble Erak, truth has been revealed and declared. It is a gift from God himself. Work hard, study hard, be faithful to this gift and history will account you a master of the written word."

The youthful Erak stopped not far from Musa's home, looked at the street and the passers-by, seeing neither. With the great teacher's words still whirling inside his head he asked himself in a sort of giddy ecstasy: "Can it be true? If I work and study hard will I be master of the written word?" Recalling the moment some twenty-five years later he wrote to his brother: "In the conviction that to work and study hard meant to research my subject matter in endless detail, I fucked every woman who would let me under her skirts-and a number who would not."

Musa's prophecy was to be amply fulfilled. In fact, when the profundity of Erak's first effort spread he knocked his head against the stars of fame. Those who read it echoed Musa's lavish encomiums. They compared his work in depth and scope with that of Omar Khayyam, the Tentmaker, who was already among the immortals. A little spoiled by this adulation, he wrote to a friend: "They say my work has power and originality; that I proceed objectively with a fresh, vigorous movement, graphically unfolding the theme whereas Khayyam is often vague and oblique."

Bumptious as this self-glorification may be, the youthful Eraker-Rashid had some reason to feel proud, for in 'A Variation Of Position' he had introduced an entirely new approach to Persian literature-the informal, informative essay. It was followed by 'The Art of Cunnilingus; a Critical Analysis,' 'Anal-Coitus; the Unbeaten Path' and many other works, all of which have been lost or never discovered.

Along with his literary success came the opportunity of realizing a long cherished dream; that of acquiring a select harem; which was to become the research laboratory for his only work of fiction, Persian Lust Song. From the numerous slave markets in Tabriz he purchased a host of young virgins with ethnic backgrounds from the Kurds, Lurs, Khamshes, Shahsevans, Arabs, Baluchis, Turkomen and Armenians. It was a harem that rivaled that of the ruling Emir's in youth and beauty, and Erak was soon the envy of every lusty young blade in the city.

This harem also had its effect on the young maids and matrons moving in his rapidly growing circle of friends. More often than not, large harems were kept as a symbol of affluence, but Erak let it be known that with his such was not the case. His harem was for sexual purposes, and these noble young ladies among his friends became intrigued by the man who needed so many hot cunts to appease his sensual appetites, surmising he must be something exceptional in the clinches. Soon they were vying for their share of his attention, which displeased him not at all. If one is to believe his fictional accounts in Persian Lust Song they got their share, giving everything they could in return, with few exceptions.

One of these was the beautiful, fiery Kleyr, who wanted no part of horny Erak for a long time and resisted him to the very last. Kleyr was a relative of the Emir, Nur-es-Samad, and a member of his household. It is believed she supplied the inspiration for the title of this work.

The meeting between Erak and Kleyr was inevitable. Erak's renown as a writer, his harem and his sexual prowess attracted the attention of the aging Emir, who invited Erak to the palace. They became fast friends and ere long Erak had the run, as it were, of the royal household as if he were a close and beloved blood relative. Whether this affection was the result of the elderly Emir's inability to perform successfully in his own harem and requested certain manly services from Erak, or whether he saw in the lusty young Erak the son he never had, it is not known. This is a question the reader of Persian Lust Song will have to decide for himself. It is known the Emir introduced the young writer and Kleyr, and observed the couple with unfeigned delight as Erak diligently pursued his case to fuck her.

Eraker-Rashid suffered from, or was blessed by, satyriasis; a male condition of uncontrollable sex urges coupled with virtually insatiable sexual appetites. Of that there can be no doubt. He was fortunate to have lived in an era and environment when satyriasis was not looked upon as an affliction, but as a priceless asset. Social mores being what they were in his time, catering to these urges and appetites was never a problem.

Before he reached the age of thirty he was chosen heir-apparent to the throne, a position which gave him even greater latitude in his lusty endeavor; thus his conduct toward the lovely, vivacious Kleyr, who had spurned his attention for so long, was what most man's would have been under like circumstances.

Where fiction leaves off and fact begins in Persian Lust Song, or vice versa, it is impossible to determine. It seems more accurate to accept the entire story as fictionalized fact. History does not show an Eraker-Rashid ever to have mounted the throne of Persia, or even that there was an Emir named Nur-es-Samad. This is also something the reader will have to settle for himself.

-Ludwig von Weimar Dusseldorf, Germany 1791

CHAPTER ONE

I fucked her slowly, smoothly, deliciously, both hands grasping her hips firmly as she knelt away from me on the edge of the bed. Any instant now she would commence struggling in the throes of the massive orgasm I knew her capable of, and I didn't want her bucking free. It was a pleasant fuck. Each time I pulled my cock backward for another stroke into her clutching cunt a timid breeze drifting through the window felt cool by contrast around my shaft, wet from her cunt lubricants. My balls, swollen to bursting with semen and moving in accompaniment to my undulating hips, swung gently to and fro between my spread legs as I screwed into her. Our only points of contact were my hands on her hips and my prick in her belly, though each time I drove my rod home the firmly beveled surfaces of her taut buttocks pressed against my loins.

A small sound came from her throat. Her hands grabbed at the bed convulsively. Suddenly my testicles ached with a wondrously sweet pain and my prick felt as if it had increased to the size of ten. Then the girl, a Kurd slave girl named Ita, screamed pitifully from the ecstasy of her orgasm the same time my swinging balls exploded, sending heavy charges of hot come surging into her body. That seemed to affect her reason. It always did-and her actions as well. I gritted my teeth from the excruciating rapture pervading my loins, spreading through my body, and held fast when she began to buck like a person bereft of their senses, clawing the bed and yowling like a wounded tigress.

I was forced to stop hunching to prevent her breaking the coupling, for each time I thrust forward she bucked in the same direction, but failed to recover when I retreated. Then I'd drag her back on my rod by the hips. She tore at the bed with a vengeance, tossing her head wildly, plaintive cries of uncontrollable bliss bubbling from her lips. When her orgasm gradually faded she sank to the bed with a rapturous sigh of contentment, squirming her buttocks against my loins in silent invitation for me to begin fucking her again. Much as I wanted to, I couldn't. There wasn't time. Within an hour I was expected at the royal palace for a banquet the Emir was giving in my honor.

I eased rearward, hauling my cock out of her tight cunt with savoring slowness, relishing the slight friction of her hot passage and the nipping of her vulva at my glans as I pulled free. Yes indeed, it was a very pleasant fuck.

She rolled to her side to lay there in silence, the adoration in her eyes doing nothing to dent my ego. I glanced out the window toward the sun about to go down behind the distant mountains. I didn't have much time.

"Hurry," I told her. "See to my bath." She scrambled off the bed. "And lay out fresh garments." As she left the room I found myself comparing her with the slim hipped, lush breasted, nymph like Kleyr, the Emir's orphaned niece who couldn't stand the sight of me.

Emir Nur-es-Samad, sole ruler of the vast principality of Tabriz and whose principal city bore the same name, stood five feet tall, was no less the same distance around and had a problem. What that problem was I didn't know, though I suspected it had to do with his neglected harem, for the Emir was getting on in years. His age, plus his rotund figure, plus a harem loaded with choice females clamoring for service could create a problem for any man. I further suspected the problem had something to do with me, but I wasn't sure of this, either. If he wanted me to run loose in his harem....

Preparation for the banquet being given in my honor had been underway for some time. The Emir had gone so far as to invite several sheykhs and khaliefs from outlying provinces, which in itself was evidence it was no ordinary social affair. During previous visits to the palace I had subtly hinted I would like to know the reason for it, and the jovial, good natured old man had hinted just as subtly it had some thing to do with my future. To put it mildly, as I made my way along the twisted streets of Tabriz, I was curious as hell. I had heard the rumor that during the gathering he would make an important announcement, but that was all, and I wasn't sure I wanted anyone tampering with my future. Even the Emir. It looked pretty bright as it was.

The musicians were all in their places when I arrived, slaves scurried about bearing large trays of food and drink to guests already there. The Emir, with a dozen or so of his wives eyeing him reproachfully, would be in a small room off the banquet hall. On my way there to pay my respects, threading my way through other slaves arranging couches for the guests to recline on, the deep notes of a bronze gong rang melodiously, signaling that the entertainment would soon begin.

I found the Emir as I expected, seated cross-legged on silk pillows and surrounded by a number of his wives. One of them had her hand under his robes, playing with his prick hopefully, a dreamy, urgent look in her eyes, but he didn't seem to notice. At seventy-three years old, I doubt he was even aware of it.

"Ah-Erak," he beamed as I bowed.

"Allah yahfazek," I said, giving the traditional Persian salutation between Moslems. "May God preserve you."

"Salam 'alekum," he replied, still smiling broadly. "Peace be on you." He motioned the wife to quit fondling him. "I dare say this will be the most memorable night of your life."

I grinned, aware of the aphrodisiacal odor of his sexually aroused wives, and quickly swept the room with my eyes for sight of Kleyr. She was nowhere to be seen. She was probably off in some corner playing that cursed little harp she always carried with her. Or in a huddle with that dam Yuddus.

"I'm bursting with curiosity," I told the Emir.

"Kleyr is not here," he said shrewdly, reading my thoughts. "But you will see her shortly. She dances for us this evening." He chuckled at my look of surprise. She had never danced at any of his other banquets. "I thought that would interest you." He struggled to his feet. "Come, let us go to the banquet hall. I must meet our guests." He waddled ponderously beside me as we left the room, trailed by his wives. Then his tone became deeply serious when we reached the huge circle of couches.

"Your couch is right hand couch to mine this evening," he said, his kindly old eyes studying my face. "And I know you have been puzzled as to why I am giving this banquet in your honor. I have a very important announcement to make concerning you, but it must have your approval. Shall I tell you now what it is?"

I nodded, burning with curiosity.

"As you know," he continued, "I am childless." He waved a pudgy hand toward his string of wives. "Nor is it anyone's fault but mine. I tried until about fifteen years ago. I know, I know." He showed his palms, a wry smile on his moon-shaped face. "Subtract fifteen years from the age of any one and she'd be little more than an infant. But I've had other wives. These are for prestige only, for the sake of appearances and because it's expected of my status. I have never-ah-used my present harem." He squeezed my arm affectionately. "But back to the subject. I have always dreamed of having a son. Tonight I am announcing to our guests, which will make it official, that I am adopting you, Eraker-Rashid, as that son. It will make you heir to the throne at my death. Do you approve?"

It floored me. I could only nod and stare openmouthed as he hugged me and waddled off to greet the guests. I honestly had come to love the old rascal months ago, and knew he was exceptionally fond of me. But enough to adopt me as his son...? My senses whirled as I dropped down on the couch to the right of his. Me? An emir? They were still whirling when, some thirty minutes later, he returned to his couch and lay down, his wives gathering about him, with some casting hot glances in my direction. They had overheard their husband talking and knew at his death they automatically became part of my inheritance.

The banquet hall, lighted by giant torches and countless candles, was fifty yards square. Forming a large circle around the walls and pointing toward the center of the room were the couches, now mostly occupied, with each having enough space from its neighbors to allow slaves bearing food and drink free movement between.

Hungry when I arrived, the Emir's proposal had knocked my appetite rolling, and I rested on my elbows sipping from a goblet of barley beer, called buzah, cutting my eyes occasionally in his direction. Being chosen to fill his shoes took some getting used to. He caught my glance once and winked hugely, smiling so hard it looked like his face might split. Obviously the old boy was tickled pink that I'd agreed to the adoption.

When he made the announcement some time later another half an hour passed while the guests filed past to offer congratulations. By the time it was over even I was becoming accustomed to the idea. Once, as I stood there, I saw Kleyr, the heart-stopping beauty of her face cast in strong lines of disapproval, her jade green eyes snapping angrily. At her shoulder stood Yuddus, a mean minded son of a bitch if ever there was one. He and Kleyr were the Emir's only living relatives and, since only a man could be emir in Tabriz, he doubtless had nurtured dreams of getting the throne himself. Both he and Kleyr turned abruptly and left and I continued listening to the well wishers until the line finished.

The Emir, bless his fat little heart, was beside himself with joy at the enthusiastic reception of his announcement. Soon thereafter he clapped his hands and a troupe of tumblers hurtled into the circle formed by the couches. Following their act came a group of traveling jugglers, complete with fire eater. After these the palace dancing girls swept into the circle and immediately the guests, all men, became alert with attention. So did I. The principal dancer was Yeneen, a petite, dark skinned Turkoman beauty, hot bodied and lusty, with whom I had a rendezvous in her quarters following the banquet.

The musicians played with vigor, the girls went through their intricate dance with accomplished ease, the guests watched and talked quietly, giving off that low murmur of sound which grows of itself from the relaxation brought on by good food and drink and a hushed, sensuous atmosphere. As the girls finished their dance Yeneen whirled past my couch, bending close, whispering hurriedly:

"I'll be waiting."

Then she was gone and slaves began extinguishing candles, leaving only the big torches in brackets along the wall. When they finished, the reduced light cast a sexy, sensuous glow over the hall and comparative silence settled over the room like a fog.

Cymbals clashed. The slender, nymph like figure of a girl floated into the circle. My teeth came together with a click.

Kleyr!

Till that moment I'd forgotten the Emir having told me she would dance this evening. I looked at him and he pretended not to notice, but he shook with inward laughter. The lovable old hellion had planned this as a tease. He knew how I wanted to get my hands on his niece, and he approved-and disapproved of Kleyr scorning me-which was the palace's favorite open secret. Now he was having her dance, probably in hopes I'd force the issue. Maybe I would at that. I looked back at Kleyr.

Even taking into account the buzah I'd drunk, in the careful flattery of the half light she was more stunning than ever before. She was positively breathtaking. I breathed heavily, feeling suddenly as if I'd broken the surface after staying under water too long.

Slender and fair and formed like a goddess of pure sensuality she was, with a radiance seeming to glow from her white skin so that it appeared almost translucent. Her limbs and body held not one ounce of extra flesh, her face was delicate and fine boned, with courage and strength of character in every line. Her eyes were large and long and green as highly polished jade and in perfect contrast to her flame colored hair; eyes which, I knew, could flash with sparks of anger. Her neck and shoulders were so beautifully molded and soft looking they were sexually exciting.

She was dressed in a form-fitting garment of pale green material so thin it only served to accentuate her charms. The front was cut low, revealing the tops of her breasts, and a slit up both sides showed her long thighs. She began to move slowly in the direction of the musicians and to sing in a low, throaty voice. When she reached that point in the circle from directly beyond which the music came she turned gradually, looking at each of the guests, caressing them with her eyes as she held them with her voice and body. When her gaze touched mine I flinched involuntarily. I couldn't help it.

I drew my eyes away, forcing them to travel around the room over the others present. They watched her as a tiger watches its prey. Then I looked at her again. She was the one female I wanted more than any other in the world and she, for some curious, inexplicable reason, seemed to despise me. Or at least pretended to and if she didn't she was a good actress. I sipped my buzah and focused my gaze on her.

It was quiet in the room, the only sounds those of her song and the low throb of musical instruments. She had a voice that wrapped itself around the enthralled minds listening, soothing and fondling as a gentle breeze, and the song seemed to be a tangible extension of her body with which she was making love. I wondered if any man had ever had an orgasm from hearing her sing.

With all eyes boring into her she spun gracefully, thigh muscles furrowing, and glided around the room. She floated in a broad arc in front of the guests, singing to them, smiling mysteriously, intimately, and the music moved with her like a cocoon of sound.

As she came closer to where I lay the more alive she seemed, the more lovely and desirable. Then she was directly before my couch, regarding me with those almond eyes, her exquisite mouth forming words of love as she sang. Yet in looking at me her eyes were blank, her face mask-like. My eyes slid down from her breasts and shoulders, dwelt on her breasts and moved further down over the tiny waist and the narrow, almost boyish hips. I glanced quickly up at her face and there might have been something in her eyes I'd never seen before-and if there was I didn't recognize it because it was gone too soon. As she moved farther around the circle, presenting me a back view in which the firm outlines of her pert buttocks showed clearly through her thin garment, my crotch tightened.

She made a full tour of the enclosure, as if offering to reveal mysterious secrets of her nature, the very incarnation of all that was unknowable about women and all that was so enormously desirable. She moved slower now, in the flickering light of the torches a pale green-and-white phantom, the music as soft and mysterious as she. Then the music dropped, her voice faded out and for one breathless minute there was dead silence before her audience exploded with tumultuous applause, roaring for more. She had captivated them to the last man.

I took another sip of my buzah, wondering at the 'something' I'd almost seen in her eyes.

With another clash of cymbals the music began again, this time a fast, airy number. Kleyr threw her arms wide and back, lifting to her toes in a thrust of freedom that spoke volumes, then began swaying about the room, wiggling her shoulders so that the torch light flashed from her red hair in long dashes of flame-colored gold.

Her audience tensed when she shrugged out of the pale green garment. It fell to the floor and she stepped free, dancing away from it, her supple white legs gleaming in the light. Underneath she wore a garment of the same material. It was short like a tunic and reached down to the tops of her thighs, just barely long enough to shield her pussy from view if she wore nothing under it. The guests craned their necks to see if she did or not. The music and wavering lights seemed to cling to her like a lover as she danced, gesturing with her hands and rolling her shoulders, moving in a small circle in the larger one formed by the couches.

Her fingers moved to a shoulder strap of her garment and through the music I heard several sharp intakes of breath. The garment fell away and she kicked it aside, but nobody noticed. They only had eyes for the girl's body.

Her breasts in a brassiere of green gossamer were larger than I had assumed; fully beveled, peaked and exciting. Her hips, too, were fuller fleshed and not quite so boyish-looking in their nakedness. They were firm and hot looking and would couch themselves warmly against a man's loins as he lay in the cradle of the thighs doing a man's work. They would squirm and twist gently, matching the movements of the dominating body lusciously. The briefs that covered them hid none of these things. It was a strip of green cloth wide at both ends and narrow in the middle, drawn tight against her straddle and tied at the hips.

The music increased in tempo and Kleyr began to twirl and shake to its rhythm. Her breasts trembled maddeningly under their whisper-thin covering, the points of her nipples out-lined clearly. Her firm buttocks quavered and jounced, too, so that just watching them made my balls ache.

Ever since Yeneen and the dancing girls had appeared my prick had been so hard I doubt if a cat could have scratched it and now, along with my balls, it commenced a throbbing ache of sweet male agony. Foolishly I wondered if I could endure watching her till she completed her dance, knowing damn good and well wild horses couldn't drag me away.

I drank deeply from my goblet of barley beer in the ridiculous hope it might cool me off. A hushed breathlessness held the entire room. Against the far wall and beyond the circle of couches the musicians hunched and swayed to the rhythm of their instruments like a group of drunken djinn.

With a quick pull, in the very center of the circle, Kleyr jerked the brassiere from her body. The milk white breasts, cone-shaped without their fetter, soared free, disclosing their pink tinged nipples to the room. They swayed gently as she spun, jiggled up and down as she worked her shoulders. She pumped her arms in rotating movements and the taut hillocks shoved forward, then relaxing, pouting. She gave the ogling spectators several full minutes to relish this treat, slowly swaying as she danced around the circle again and again, flickering torch light bathing her body like a million worshipful tongues.

One of the guests groaned as though in misery from deprivation, grabbed a slave girl by the arm and hustled her to a corner. I watched the couple till he began fucking her with fiendish enthusiasm, then looked back to Kleyr.

A tangible tension overspread the room when her hands moved down toward her waist. She danced thus for a minute, her long fingered hands pressed lightly against the curvature of her hips. She left them there, seemingly unable to decide, tantalizing those watching, causing their temperatures to mount even higher. Then with her hands she covered the loosely tied knots supporting her single garment. Again came the audible catching of breaths, much louder this time, as her fingers began fidgeting with the knots. With her thumbs she pushed down the front of the green cloth. The thin material, through which was plainly visible the dark triangle of her loin-hair, slid down the soft flesh, disclosing the flat plain of her belly. The front slipped lower, with breath choking slowness, in response to the pressure of her thumbs, beginning to reveal her loins which seemed more magnetic and forceful the more exposed they became.

I stared, dry-mouthed, in a lustful stupor, trying to imagine how it would be to have her writhing beneath me in the brutal seizure of an orgasm, my prick buried to the hilt in her belly. It wasn't hard to imagine at all.

Then the front of her brief garment reached the top of her cunt hairs, which was the same shade as that of her head, then lower to the point where hips became thighs that quivered fleshily at the apex, where they hid the core of her being between. After a moment's stillness she gave her hips a tiny twitch, as though a sexual climax were approaching. Without untying the knots she slid the garment down over her thighs, her knees, the calves, then kicked it off with a flick of one foot that spread her legs apart and brought harsh sounds of sexual need from the men.

Completely naked now, graceful and proud in her primitive nudity and obviously conscious of her animal magnetism, she began to weave and flow across the floor, approaching within a foot of the staring faces, most of which now protruded over the end of the couches. Her green eyes flashed with sensual joy from the knowledge of the effect her body was having on those watching her dance.

She stopped now and then and turned her back, shimmying smally and shaking her buttocks in their faces. Then she turned about, shaking her shoulders, sending tremors through the plump ripeness of her breasts. The guests' eyes bulged in gluttonous absorption as the tremors caught the rest of her body, swirling and flicking down over her belly to the flexing lushness of her thighs. Her nipples pushed forth as though craving a tender caress while the ravenous eyes tried vainly, desperately, to pierce the flame-hued fleece shielding that crevice between her thighs leading to the hot passage where a man's cock might plunder.

She swung her legs wide, first one way, then the other, giving the spectators a slightly better view of her clefted treasure. Torch light darted over her naked body as she moved in my direction, the music clothing her in a mantle of sound.

She worked her way toward me, pausing before each guest, offering each a close look at what she could give if she chose, and when she reached me her eyes were closed, her arms held wide, her breasts thrusting out and up in bold relief. Due to the height of the couch on which I lay prone, my head was on a level with her loins. She inched closer than she had to any of the others, so close in fact the flamered hair of her lower belly bristled almost within tongue distance. For a moment she stopped dead still, then began a minute undulation of her loins an inch from my face. Blood screamed through my veins from the ravishing, near-paralyzing scent of her cunt. I managed to lift my head, looked up sharply at her. This girl was at the fever pitch heat of sexual arousal. Furthermore, her eyes were no longer closed, but open as she watched me intently, in them a dare, a challenge I didn't understand. Not then.

"Lick it!" someone from across the room cried hoarsely. "By the Blood of the Prophet, lick her cunt!"

But it was too late. She moved on, pausing a moment before the Emir, then continued her circling.

I tried to relax, at a loss to understand her behavior, suddenly feeling like a man who couldn't catch up with events. During my many previous visits to the palace she'd always tried to avoid me, but a moment past I could have reached out my hand and eased it between her thighs. I could have stroked those smooth buttocks, swaying and jiggling like live little animals, could have run my tongue into the top of her cleft. But I had done none of these things.

I wanted Kleyr. God! how I wanted her, but only under terms mutually agreed upon. I hadn't reached the point where I could envision myself raping her, though I firmly believe a little friendly rape now and then has its place in the scheme of things.

I focused my attention on her once more. Tomorrow I could mull over my own private enigmas. Tonight was for other things.

Gradually she made a full tour of the couches, cast in a mold of super-charged sexuality, music and wavering light, then moved into the center of the room again. There she brought her dance to a crashing finale, standing with feet apart and plunging her buttocks toward the floor as if she were grinding away on a giant, stiff penis.

In doing this she contorted her face into a grimace of pain and desire, gnashing her teeth and clinching her eyes, her mouth forming odd shapes as she sank to the floor the last time, gasping and shuddering like one fighting in the ecstatic morass of orgastic upheaval. Then she sprang to her feet and dashed from sight beyond the circle. With her disappearance there was no thundering applause this time. Each man remained quiet, apparently absorbed with his own thoughts, perhaps thinking he had just been witness to a thing of such rare and priceless beauty he was not likely to see its equal twice in a single lifetime.

The staggering impact of my need for sexual gratification slammed into me from all sides. The area of my genitals was benumbed with a throbbing numbness. I moved stiffly off the couch, tempted to follow Kleyr and exercise my belief that a little rape was good for the soul.

Suddenly I remembered Yeneen. With her there would be no refusal, no struggle, no sordid aftermath-just a long sweet fuck. I lurched around the back of my couch, walking stiff legged to the sound of the Emir's delighted chuckle. He thought I was going after his niece.

CHAPTER TWO

When I reached Yeneen's quarters she was waiting, as she had promised. She came toward me, put her arms around my neck, her hands caressing the back of my neck and moving over my shoulders as I kissed her.

"I was afraid you might change your mind," she whispered.

"You should know better. Why would I want to miss what you have to give?"

She smiled eagerly. "What we both have to give." She moved her hips against my upright cock. "The bedroom is in here."

I took her hand and she led the way, not snuffing out any of the lights. The bed was big and low and soft as down.

Strange, now that relief was imminent, my hands were shaky as I stripped off my clothes, Yeneen doing the same and watching me with deep, hungry eyes. Only once my thoughts returned to Kleyr, when I concentrated on the girl before me. What a night this was going to be!

She stood naked and ready, the petite, olive body motionless until she moved in close, dark eyes narrowed.

"You have a wonderfully muscular form, Erak," she murmured, tracing her trembling hands over my shoulders and arms and dropping them suddenly to my balls and prick. The effect seemed that of a popping sound somewhere inside me. Tingling ants of pleasure flushed over my skin and I caught her to me, lifted her, writhing and murmuring, in my arms. In a surge of emotion she bit my neck hard, then nipped my lips and chin.

I moved to the bed and laid her out upon it, lowered myself beside her and began sucking a pouting breast into my mouth as far as I could get it. Her fingers raked at my hair. I ran my lips over her warm flesh and a jerky moan issued from her throat when I moved my hand down over the soft mound of her belly, through the thick thatch of pubic hair, searching for her cunt. I found it, hot and wet and the lips wide open.

"Oh," she gasped desperately, her dark eyes imploring. "Fuck me. Please fuck me now."

I didn't need a second invitation; couldn't understand why I'd taken so long already. Her fingers shook visibly on the thick stalk of my hard meat as she thumbed back the foreskin and fondled the glans till it throbbed like an angry tooth.

"Please fuck me," she begged again. "Now!"

I slid over onto the soft, cushiony bed of her receptive flesh and her thighs seized me convulsively, hugging my hips, her forelegs sticking into the air. Then she pulled her thighs back toward her shoulders and searched down between us for my prick. She found it, caressed it, squeezed it lovingly as she guided it toward her panting cunt. I let her place it exactly as she desired. She maneuvered her hips a bit, re-adjusting her position under me, then I felt the wet kiss of her steamy vagina on the knob of my rod.

"There!" she breathed loudly.

I pushed gently, felt the hot ring of her flesh gulp greedily and my glans was inside her body. The flesh spread out smoothly, silently as I pushed deeper, her torrid cunt-flesh closing in around my rigid meat as I drove gently into her.

Breath fled her lips in a low, weird animal cry of passion, her jaw clinched, she stared at me in utter abandon and wiggled in effort to get more of my prick into her body. Her back arched, veins stood out on her neck, her hard nipples dug into my chest and breath heaved in her throat, breaking from her lips in little puffing sobs.

This response of her passionate flesh enraptured me and I rammed my prick the last fraction into her tumultuous cunt. A sort of blissful pain flushed through me from head to toe. I ran my hands over her flesh, clutching at it as I drilled in the meat. Next I slipped my hands around under the firm mounds of her buttocks, cupping one in each palm, squeezing and weighing while her lovely little body writhed in sweet torment. Then I slammed my prick solidly home, held it there a moment before working my pelvis against hers, stirring it amongst her hidden organs.

She squealed from the flood of sensations this caused and grabbed my shoulders.

"Do it again," she sobbed. "Please do that again."

I did and she squeezed tight her eyes and lunged her feet into the air repeatedly, hauling her straddle up hard against me with a jerk, little gasps coming from her parted lips.

Her fingers clawed at my back as I plunged my cock into her again and again, spreading wider her buttocks in my hands, my fingers seeking her puckered rosebud. They found it. I dug one inside, up to the second knuckle joint, and she wailed plaintively, clawing weals along my back and shoulders in her passion. Her thighs pumped alternately, churning the air, her whole body bucked against mine, the heat of our lust increasing from the friction it produced. Our bodies began to sweat and glow from the impending explosions of dual orgasms.

"Fuck deeper!" she cried wildly. "Fuck harder!"

I began bucking atop her like a man riding an unbroken filly, hammering my prick into her belly with such force and vigor each forward thrust banged my dangling balls hard against the spread cleavage of her buttocks. Air hissed from her lips when I pulled my finger from her winking anus, hoisted my weight to my straightened arms, ramming with all my might.

Strangled noises came from her throat, her face was screwed tight in a twisted mask of passion, and I kept rodding till I recognized the noises as asking me to stop. It was the most difficult thing I'd ever done but, wonderingly, I managed. A minute passed before she conquered her emotions enough to speak.

"A pillow," she panted. "I want to watch."

I dragged a pillow down under her head, raising it sufficiently for her to see toward our crotches and the point of action. Her voice was ragged with gathering lust when she spoke again.

"Now. Go ahead. Slowly if you can."

I did, also looking down between us, working my hips slowly back and forth, watching the hefty shaft of my cock glide smoothly in and out of her smoldering, juicy cunt. The sight was little short of maddening. It acted as a powerful aphrodisiac; my senses faltered and for a moment I was afraid of losing consciousness. She watched also-till the sight of eroticism is action became too much for us both.

A non-human sound ripped from her throat and she seized me with arms and legs, pulling me down to her, clamping her body against mine, fitting the planes and contours of each snugly one to the other, and began a strange sort of body undulation, like a wounded snake might make.

Her lovely breasts splayed out under my weight, her feet fanned the air above my pile driving ass, her head flailed from side to side as though she was undergoing some gruesome torture. Her eyes opened and shut time and time again and her jaw worked endlessly, flecks of froth gathering at the corners of her ripe mouth as she chewed her tongue in her passion.

Any instant she would start coming. And so would I.

I trembled all over. It felt suddenly as if she were some sort of sucking machine about to draw all my sensations, all my emotions, out through the pistoning tube of my prick. I savored the lush sensuality of her flesh at all points of contact, thrusting my sex-staff in between her contorting thighs like a battering ram, feeling as if I were converted into one giant penis, as if my entire body was one enormous dick thundering about in her organs.

"I'm coming!" she shrieked in a frenzy, then vented a long, piercing squeal of ecstasy as she spent her juices, her inner-cunt muscles chewing spastically on my cock.

My balls shattered. White-hot streaks of relief shot through my prick in thick gushes. When she felt the additional heat of my unloading blossom in her womb she went a little mad. Snarling, spitting, her cunt gnawing on my prick with delicious fervor, she pummeled me with her small fists, the click of her teeth loud when she snapped at my shoulder in a fit of unbridled rapture.

My orgasm faded before hers, but I held my position, my cock buried deep, my weight holding her flat to the bed as she struggled and fought, the front of my scrotum laying in her lower cleft wet from her juices.

It was a most gratifying fuck.

"I thought I was dying," she murmured after a while.

We rested for several minutes, cleaned up, then began the performance all over again in a slow, leisurely manner, a luxurious lovemaking that knew no time-or anything else of the rest of the world. And then a third time, after which she got on her hands and knees so I could take her from behind, her rounded buttocks a lovely picture, their luscious outlines expanding and contracting as I fucked her, thrusting so hard toward the last I almost knocked her flat on her belly on the bed.

After this we rested again, longer this time, and dozed off in each other's arms. When we revived Yeneen turned to her side facing away, scooted her buttocks back against me, her knees drawn up.

"Now put him in," she whispered over her shoulder.

I did; parted the lips of her choice cunt, stationed the bald end of my rod against her vulva, then worked my hips, easing my prick all the way into her body. Coupled thus, we went sound asleep.

Sometime before dawn I returned to the surface of consciousness hazily, but enough to recognize the scratching sounds were her nails against the bed as she whimpered and sobbed her way through another orgasm.

CHAPTER THREE

I woke up at home the following morning near noon, sprawled flat on my back on the giant bed built especially to accommodate several members of my harem at once. Now, however, only Ita, the Kurd slave girl, was present; seated beside me, admiring eyes on my cock laying at a sharp angle up over my stomach. She had awakened me by teasing my scrotum with her tongue.

"Good morning, Ita." I had a long, relaxing stretch. It was a good life. Shortly before dawn I had ended my visit with Yeneen with one final rousing fuck and returned home, promising to see her again soon. It was a promise I meant to keep. Petite, olive-bodied Yeneen was a sumptuous lay.

"Good morning, Master," Ita replied, a hint of admonition in her tone I didn't understand until she said: "Did you enjoy yourself with the dancing girl last night?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Slaves know everything," she pouted, shrugging free of her robe to reveal lush breasts. At sight of them my prick began perking in cadence with my heartbeat. I had awakened with a hard on, which now became even harder. "Is the dancing girl better in bed than I?"

I grinned. The girl was jealous and the knowledge of it pleased my masculine ego. I grunted with surprise when she leaned forward and quickly traced the tip of her tongue along the underside of my cock from base to throatlatch.

"Well, is she?" Ita insisted.

"Almost." My balls tightened with desire.

She began fondling my genitals, pleased with the answer I had given. Then her face became serious and she rested across my abdomen, gazing intently into my face.

"The slaves also speak of other things that concern you, Master," she said quietly. "That is why I woke you up."

"Such as?" I extended a hand toward her crotch and she lifted her leg, propping a foot against the bed to give me easy access to her cunt.

"Yuddus, the Emir's nephew. It is rumored he is beside himself with rage because Nur-esSamad chose you instead of him to succeed to the throne."

"To hell with Yuddus." The son of a bitch was no cause for alarm. If the bastard messed with me I'd cut his throat. His relationship to Nur-es-Samad and to Kleyr were the only reasons I was civil to the crut. These and Nazera, his plump, matronly young wife whom I had special plans for. "What else is being rumored?"

"Nothing. I only wished to warn you. Oh yes-but this is no rumor-a slave dealer, a little dwarf with a great fierce wolfhound trained in a most unique manner, has arrived at the market from Kaddiz with a new bunch of slaves."

"Is to tell me these things the only reason you woke me?" The question was superfluous and we both knew it. Each time Ita awakened me in the mornings we went through the same delightful erotic procedure.

"Of course not." Her smile was soft and warm. "Some of the other girls of the harem wanted to come wake you, but we cast lots." She wrinkled her nose at me in her gladness. "I won."

"Did you cheat?"

She laughed happily. "Not much."

"I suppose you saw Weelel in the harem this morning. How is she?"

"Haughty as usual-and still vowing you will never fuck her."

Weelel was a fiery tempered young Arabian slave girl I had purchased the previous week. Prior to her kidnapping and subsequent sale into slavery by a roving band of Lur tribesmen she had led the pampered life of a desert princess as the favorite child of her father, an aging sheykh. She was a virgin. The dealer from whom I bought her proved this to me, though it had taken three of his aides to hold her and do so.

"Touch me and I'll kill you!" she had stormed the day I brought her home from the market. "I'll scratch your eyes out! I'll be slave to no man!"

This was quite a claim for a girl of her youth, especially one so slightly built. Yet it was her figure that had caught my attention in the first place, for it in no way detracted from her natural beauty. She was dark, with large eyes under rather heavy brows and had the sensitive, faintly hooked nose so common to desert aristocracy. There was also about her a certain aura of wild, untamable furiosity prevalent in her people I found fascinating. I had neither seen nor spoken to the girl since I had given her into the charge of my harem eunuchs, but got reports of her regularly. So far she had presented to the harem a demeanor of icy hauteur, though yesterday had asked my name and seemed surprised to learn she was the property of Eraker-Rashid, the writer. I took this to be a favorable sign. I didn't want to force the girl, would much rather have her come to my bed willingly, but my patience was growing thin.

"Are you hungry, Master?" Ita asked with a familiar eagerness that betrayed her thoughts.

I laughed, more than willing to cater to the peculiar form of sexual expression she preferred above all others.

"I suppose you have a kitchen slave standing outside the door with my breakfast, awaiting your signal," I said.

She nodded, a happy grin wreathing her features. "May I call him?"

"By all means." I changed to a seated position, leaned back against the wall, and watched the male slave she summoned with a clap of her hands place the large tray of fruits, nuts, cheeses and a bottle of wine on a stand beside the bed within easy reach.

Ita's peculiar preference of sex-forms was not an uncommon one, yet it had a quirk to it, which made it most uncommon. She liked to suck my cock while I was busy with something else and pretending not to know what she was doing or that she was anywhere around. I have never encountered a similar quirk in anyone else, but with Ira it was an enjoyable one. And, according to her, one that gave her considerable satisfaction, for she orgasmed each time I did. She once tried to explain why a man's hot discharge boiling into her mouth brought her to a climax, but I couldn't understand. I'm not sure she did.

Of one thing I am positive, and with this she, is in complete agreement. The degree of her satisfaction was related directly to my ability at pretending I was unaware of what she was doing, which sometimes became a problem. Ita was no mean blow-job artist.

She also changed her position on the bed; rested on hands and knees between my out-flung thighs, face above my crotch. My prick was hard as stone, my balls tight enough to crack from wanting her to begin.

Yet I said nothing, gave no hint of my de sires, only reached for a pomegranate on the tray, ignoring her. She shivered in anticipation. I felt a tingling in my loins but gave no sign I knew she was in the room, just broke the pomegranate in halves and began eating. A tiny sound of desperate lust squeaked from her throat, her head dipped swiftly, the soft oval of her searing lips captured the flaming knob of my cock and slid smoothly far down the shaft. Icy-hot flashes of sensuous sensations washed over me, my jaw snapped shut, crunching a mouthful of pomegranate seeds. It wasn't easy to maintain my role of ignorant participant.

She began to suck as she licked, biting gently from time to time, eyes full of furious passion watching me. Without looking directly at her I could see her cheeks hollow and bulge rhythmically as she sucked, and only by great effort did I restrain myself from seizing her face in both hands and pushing her head farther down. I craved avidly to feel the head of my cock in her throat, wanted to press inward on her cheeks to feel a greater solidity of her sexy mouth. I fought to keep from crying out wildly that she should suck harder. Of course I did none of these things. Any one would have spoiled her enjoyment. It had happened before.

She sensed my yearnings, her bobbing-sucking action grew more intense, faster, the embrace of her soft lips tighter. Though my sweaty, flesh pounding session with little Yeneen had been very gratifying, I felt my culmination growing to a hell-fire in my loins. A savage urge to thrust upward with my hips at her down-stroke almost overcame me. To curb this urge I crunched down on the pomegranate like a man starving, then swigged long draughts from the wine bottle. A quick glance at her expression as I lowered the bottle told me she knew my orgasm was on the way.

When she first began sucking she had stretched out on the bed, resting on her elbows, hands lightly clasping the base of my penis. Now she removed her hands and trailed her fingers over my belly, entwined them in the hair about my rod, stroked my thighs and hips. She breathed passionately through flared nostrils, and as I selected a handful of dates from the tray I noticed her hips moving in minute hunches against the bed. When I orgasmed, she would do the same. It always happened that way.

Her hands kept flitting over my loins, couldn't seem to get hold of enough of my flesh. Then she sent the hands into my crotch to cup and fondle and gently squeeze my testicles. I thought the top of my head would fly off. To camouflage the harsh gasp that burst from my throat I bit down viciously on the dates, pits and all.

She raised to hands and knees again and increased the vigor and dimensions of her strokes so that her maddening lips plunged down on my suffering root within an inch of the base. With each downward thrust I felt the glans brunt against her larynx, spread it enough to pass through, then lunge into the esophagus be yond and enter her throat. The rings and ridges of this passage produced rapturous sensations that all but stunned me. Each time she recovered to thrust again the effect was the same. Vaguely, helplessly, I wondered if my mind might snap.

My loins tightened of their own accord. I was starting to come, slowly at first, like the approach of a torrid wind. Ita sensed this. Her hips started to hunch against the bed with greater fervor and she licked and sucked with furious urgency, purling her silken tongue about my glans on each up-stroke, passionate grunts from deep inside escaping through her flanged nostrils.

Inside me the torrid wind became a burning gale that set me aflame with ecstatic fire and I dropped my head back against the wall in blissful resignation. The gale enveloped me, raced through me, quivered in my penis, surged upward, geysered into her greedy mouth in a deluge of exploding come and white-hot relief.

At the geyser's first gush Ita rammed her soft mouth down on my cock to the absolute limit, held it there, grabbed handfuls of my belly flesh, kneaded desperately while her whole body vibrated from a prolonged, massive orgastic seizure.

After the storm subsided she released me reluctantly to lay with her head on my thighs. Minutes passed while she kissed and nipped my cock and licked my testicles in savoring memory.

"Ayeee, Master," she breathed contentedly at last. "What a truly wonderful thing it is to be your slave."

"Weelel doesn't think so."

"Weelel," she said flatly, with great conviction, "is a fool. If only she knew what she's missing." Ita wagged my prick back and forth thoughtfully. "But I doubt if she could accommodate your size, she is so skinny. Perhaps you should send her to attend one of those frolics the Emir gives for his personal bodyguards. There she would learn what men are for."

I did not answer this. I had heard of these sex frolics the Emir held regularly, though I had never been to one-yet. Furthermore, Weelel was not skinny and I wasn't sending her anywhere to learn about men. I meant to be her instructor in matters of sex. She was a slightly built girl, and uncommonly slender, but so perfectly formed she had cost me more than one hour's sleep since I'd bought her. Yet Ita's snide remark was to be expected. The single unvarying constant in any harem besides hungry, eager cunts is feminine jealousy.

"Master?"

"Yes?"

"When do you plan to fuck Weelel?"

"Why?"

"Just curious. But the sooner the better, for her sake as well as peace in the harem. Several girls already dislike her very much because of her contemptuous attitude and superior airs. Because you have never taken her to bed they suspect she is something very special in your eyes, and since you are to be the next Emir, it is whispered about the harem you may take her to wife. Unless this is true and you make it known to the other girls, you know the trouble that can cause.

I knew well enough. Intra-harem struggles and power plays to become the master's favorite could disrupt the domestic tranquility of any household and upset a man's way of life. This I was determined to avoid. I liked my routine and the way I lived and would brook no interference with either.

"Why do you say I should take Weelel to bed for her sake?" I asked.

Ita gave me a dreamy, voluptuous smile. "To fully understand the answer to that question, Master, you would have to be female. Nothing in the world will change a woman's outlook on things quicker than a man's big hard pacifier stirring around in her belly the first time. It's like being part of a miracle."

I pondered her words. They made sense. I had no qualms against a bit of harmless rape as a last recourse, though I'd never found it necessary to force a girl of mine. Prospects of such did have a certain spicy tang, but need for rape had simply never arisen. If Ita's contention that a female's first sexual encounter might change her attitude and opinions....

I made the decision without further thought. Damned if my home was going to be in an uproar because of one little snip of a girl.

"Get dressed," I said to Ita. "Go tell Weelel I expect her here in my quarters within five minutes-naked."

CHAPTER FOUR

NO well-oriented harem girl can comfort ably tolerate a virgin. She views one as a threat to her security. Ita bounced from the bed with a squeal of delight.

Even so, Weelel didn't come to my quarters naked. She was literally dragged there by two harem eunuchs and wearing the ragged remains of a knee length robe. Small as she was, both eunuchs showed signs of their struggle, with one nursing a bloody thumb that bore the marks of her teeth. When they departed she stood arrow-straight, glaring at me, eyes ablaze with defiance, so enraged I thought she might hurl herself at me. I said nothing till her fury simmered to a cold anger.

During the time I had awaited her arrival I had concocted a scheme which I was sure would change her stubborn defiance to cooperative sexual intercourse. If not, there was always rape. But I still wanted her to come to me willingly, eagerly if possible, and the scheme was to soften her resistance by introducing her to a sex-form I was sure her ignorant of, but one she would find easy to submit to, one which would be enormously more acceptable to a frightened, reluctant virgin than conventional coitus. After all, a man's tongue should never be used solely for talking. In times I had used mine for another purpose with delightful results. I patted a place on the bed beside me.

"Sit down, Weelel. I have a proposition for you."

"Sultans do not make bargains with slaves," she gritted, trying to conceal the more attractive areas of her flesh behind the tatters of the robe. The attempt was useless. And intriguing to watch. Each time she drew them to cover one part of her body, she exposed another.

"Why try to hide your body?" I grinned. "I saw you naked at the slave market."

"Against my will you saw me!" she spat, eyes flashing. "Women of the desert are not accustomed to flouting their nakedness."

She did not add that a popular belief held that desert Arab women were the most passionate in the world.

I studied her carefully. That aura of the wild, the untamed, was still about her, clung to her like a mysterious veil. I found myself comparing her physical charms with those of the lovely Kleyr. This girl had much in her favor to whet a man's sexual appetite. In a year or two, when the coltish awkwardness of her fading adolescence evolved into seductive feminine attributes, her beauty would be a dark counterpart to that of the flaming-haired Kleyr.

Through a rent in the robe I saw the edge of her black pubic hair bristling thinly around her shy little cunt. For the second time that morning my prick began to perk in tempo with the beat of my heart.

Then a strange thing happened.

Until that moment Weelel, in the heat of her anger, had not noticed that I lay naked on the bed before her. At my prick's first perk her eyes found it, widened in surprise. A sharp gasp of disbelief, mingled with a tiny whimper of terror burst from her lips. Her face blanched, her shoulders sagged. I thought she would faint.

"Sit down!" I smote the bed with my fist. "Here!" The harsh command jarred her back to normal. She snapped erect-but the fear did not leave her face. Like one in a dream she moved toward the bed, took a seat beside me, gaze locked on my genitals in fearful fascination. Only at the last moment did she tear them away to look at me once more.

"How old are you, Weelel?" I asked gently, knowing I could better achieve my purpose with a show of kindness.

"Fifteen," she whispered. Sight of my hard prick had shocked all defiance from her.

This was good. It gave my scheme a better chance to be effective. I suppressed the urge to reach out and put a hand on her thighs. In the extremity of her overwrought emotions she might become hysterical and spoil everything. I could be patient awhile longer.

"I had you come here to discuss with you a proposition I have in mind," I said. "You didn't believe me."

She threw a furtive glance at my prick. A tremor of fear shook her visibly. "Why-why should I believe you?"

"You fear the threat of rape?"

She looked at me squarely. Her color was returning and so was her composure. "No. I fear rape itself." She indicated my rod with a movement of her head. "Wouldn't any woman? So huge a-thing-as that could kill her."

"I know a goodly number of women it hasn't killed. They've discovered it affords considerable pleasure."

The tremor hit her again. "It would kill me," she said lamely.

"I doubt it very much, Weelel. Is it not a custom among your people that a girl be wed on her fourteenth birthday?" This was true. The custom had been in practice among desert Arabs for centuries and we both knew it. "Yet you are fifteen and unwed. How is this?"

"My father is a powerful sheykh," she answered in a monotone, "and not bound to abide by certain customs unless he chooses. He allowed me to remain unwed at my request."

"You fear sexual intercourse?" I was well pleased with the control the girl had gained over herself. She had spunk.

She nodded, eyes lowered. "I-yes, I fear sexual intercourse-I suppose." Her budding breasts lifted in a deep sigh and she looked at me again. "By what name shall I address you? Master? Sultan? Erak, or what?"

"Either one. Erak if you like. Which one do you prefer?"

"Erak." To my surprise she continued shyly. "I have read some of your works." Apparently her fear was vanishing rapidly and the fact that I was a writer of some small renown had something to do with it, though I couldn't figure out why.

"You can read?" I asked. This was fantastic! In this modern day and age only male children of the household were educated.

"My father is very old and very indulgent with me because I was his favorite."

For the first time since I'd seen her standing on the slave block a faint smile curved her lips. It did marvelous things to her face. Now that she had become more friendly I decided to take the plunge, to tell her what I had in mind, but not reveal I meant to bed her anyway if the scheme failed or if she refused. Before I could speak, however, she prepared the way.

"What is this bargain you speak of Erak?" she asked.

"It is this. If you can truthfully deny receiving any pleasure from the inducements I use in trying to persuade you to make love with me of your own free will, then I shall arrange to have you returned to your father."

She stared at me, agog with amazement, but I could see the joy building in her eyes.

"Do I understand you correctly?" she whispered in wonder. "If I honestly receive no pleasure from your inducements, I am free? If I do receive pleasure, then we are to make love with you using-that?" Again she nodded toward my cock. "Is that correct?"

"It is," I said, sensing she would accept the proposal.

"This is a very strange bargain to make with a slave."

"A strange bargain indeed, but I like my women willing and eager. I don't like to use force."

"What are these inducements, Erak?"

I told her. By the time I finished she had a stunned look about her face. She placed a dainty hand over her cunt.

"You mean you will kiss me-here?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. Despite the dazed tone of her voice the joy in her eyes over the possibility of freedom was being replaced by a sexual excitement I was all too familiar with. This delectable little desert spitfire was enthralled at the prospect of me nuzzling about her crotch. She blushed furiously.

"I-I don't know how." There was no mistaking the restrained eagerness in her words.

"I do." I raised to an elbow. "Lie down here beside me."

"Wait," she said. "First I want to do something." She struggled with herself to not be overcome with embarrassment. "There is something about which I have an enormous curiosity."

"What is it?" I suspected the cause of her curiosity. Most women are afflicted with it at some point or other in their lives. Nor was I taken aback by the boldness which most girls her age would have found insupportable.

"Do you mind if I-look at you?"

The chuckle sprang unaided from my lips. With all their sweet mystery, females are virtually all a-like.

"Help yourself," I told her. "It doesn't bite."

"Oh, you!" She smiled again, slapped at me in pretended offense.

The change which had come over the girl was little short of miraculous. From fierce anger and defiance to intimate camaraderie within a few short minutes was really something-with the greater part of that change taking place after she understood the terms of our bargain. Perhaps the knowledge I was about to tongue her pussy had influenced the change. I wondered.

With unfeigned fascination she inspected my genitals; fondled the glans, studied the foreskin color, hefted my testicles, peaked beneath the scrotum-but most of her attention was given the shaft itself. She measured its length by spreading her hands along it, checked its circumference by circling it with her fingers, then concluded her inspection with several cautious strokes and pats. All during this time I ground my teeth in a struggle to remain quiet and still, which was not the easiest thing I'd ever done. Her delicate touch sent breathtaking tingles of pleasure shooting over me. At last she straightened, regarded me with a troubled frown and slowly shook her head.

"Are there really women who find enjoyment when such a hugeness is inserted into their bodies?" she asked in awe.

I mastered the inner turmoil her fondlings had caused me and managed a calm answer.

"There are many such women."

"Honestly?" She found it hard to believe.

"Honestly. And so will you when the time comes."

"Never." She shook her head emphatically. "That time will never come." Her small jaw clinched stubbornly, she raised her head as I was about to speak. "I know," she continued doggedly. "We have a bargain. But with the possibility of having that-monstrosity stuck between my legs, rest assured I shall feel no pleasure. No matter where you kiss me."

"We'll see," I told her. "Now come lie down beside me."

She hesitated till I took her by the arm and drew her toward me.

"Are you scared?"

"Of your kissing me between the legs? No, Erak, but terribly excited. Such has never happened to me before. In some things my father was uncommonly strict."

"You're very beautiful," I said. "It was a lucky day for me when you came to Tabriz."

She glowed with pleasure. "Do you really think so?"

Instead of answering, I gathered her in my arms, held her close. I felt the smooth skin of her cheek against my lips, the soft warmth of her slender body down the length of mine, and my heart pounded with excitement in anticipation of the moments to come.

I slipped a hand inside her ruined robe and she winced. Then my hand was caressing the small, firm breasts with the lightest of touches. I moved my lips over her face without losing contact till I found hers. The girl's lips were still, slightly reluctant and unsure. But as my hand moved from one breast to the other and tweaked the nipples, as my tongue played hide and seek with her lips, her mouth opened with a sound which was near a sigh, her lips relaxed and then kissed back.

My tongue forsook its fencing play and darted out to fill the mouth which opened and spread under its attack.

Gently I untied the belt of her robe. The tattered material slipped slowly down to the bed, off the soft dark flesh of her hips and thighs. I rested my hand on her waist for a moment, the index finger toying with her navel. She trembled faintly, like a leaf teased by the faintest zypher. I let my hand float away over the satiny expanse of flesh, lingeringly, unhurried, exploring every part of her I could while my tongue continued to caress the moist, heavily breathing lips.

As my advancing fingers encountered the silky splash of thin pubic fleece, they slowed. I let my fingers course through and around about the fleece slowly. Under the sparse growth I could feel the flesh swollen in a little mound, like a slight rise in the ground covered with a misty fine grass.

Weelel wriggled her hips very slightly. She seemed ashamed of their movement, as though she believed I thought she was trying to escape. I sucked heavily on the lips that now trembled in unison with her body.

With my free hand I adjusted my throbbing cock between us and pressed it against the warm flesh of her thigh.

Slowly, as if calming a frightened animal, I allowed my fingers to continue their downward progress. They moved down the rise into the little hollow between the trembly-taut flesh of her thighs. My path was barred for a moment by an instinctive pressing together of those thighs. Patiently I stroked all the flesh I could reach and discovered my fingers moist with a sudden seepage.

Slowly and with great care I explored her mouth with my tongue, then moved my lips to her neck where a large artery beat rapidly under them.

"You aren't relaxing," I whispered. "Don't grip your legs together."

"I-I-can't help it," she whispered jerkily in return. "Your touch takes my breath. I fear it may destroy my reason. It's so wonderful. It feels so good I think I might die of the goodness."

I continued with the gentle caressing. The little valley between her compressed thighs was growing very warm and she was emitting strange little 'ohs' and 'ahs' every so often from deep in her throat.

I traced my lips down her neck, over the slim shoulders and moved them toward her breasts, which were just entering the ripeness of maturity and were now taut and straining with sexual excitement. I capped a nipple with the heat of my mouth and brought from her tiny yelps of sweet torment as I teased and tugged.

With imperceptible slowness my dainty desert flower's thighs began to relax and ere long I was able to advance my exploring fingers. Under them the texture of the flesh changed and I knew they were at the beginning of her innocent ravine. She tightened her thighs together again, gripping my tormenting hand, though not so tight as to prevent me from tickling the moist flesh with my fingertips.

I continued to tug at her nipple with my lips; tortured the sensitive peak with my tongue, sucked as much of the resilient mound as possible into my mouth.

Of a sudden Weelel thrust her breast up against my face, as if in demand I devour it, then dropped back to the bed and relaxed her timid thighs. My probing fingers at once went for her treasure.

I moved a finger through the shy little conquered cleft and she moaned softly in submission.

Slowly, cautiously, I titilated and explored this newly-gained territory, and after a time eased a tentative fingertip against the hot ring of sensitive flesh. A sharp, tight squeak of passion sprang from Weelel's lips. I pushed with the finger, felt her hips cringe instinctively in effort to withdraw, but not before I discovered a condition I never expected to. Even under pressure of the distracting holocaust of sustained lust gathered in my loins I noticed it.

Weelel was virgin, yes. Of this there was no doubt. At the slave market I had been given proof, but cursory visual proof in such a matter could not tell me her cuntal opening, for a virgin, was unusually large. On second thought this did not surprise me, for I recalled such a condition was easily brought about by much riding of horses and camels, as Arab women are prone to do from early childhood, due to the itinerant nature of the life they lead.

Nevertheless, this new knowledge was gratifying. When time came for me to plant my cock in her belly she would be able to receive it without overmuch pain.

A second time I pushed with the attacking finger and again she cringed, tried to pull away from my hand, though not as determinedly as before. Then her hips oozed back into complete relaxation as they grew accustomed to the exquisite pressure.

My lips journeyed from one taut breast-fruit to the other, teasing, nipping, tugging, doing to them all the things experience had taught me to do in arousing a female to fever pitch.

My fingers could move more freely about her crotch now. Her cleft seemed swollen with excitement, was wet from her maiden juices.

The passage that led from it was inflamed with tremulous passion and her hips moved in minute twitches, as if they begged to be invaded by strange, lustful flesh.

She whined in acceptance when I sneaked the first joint of an index finger into her vagina, then she spread her thighs wide in total submission as the invading finger probed deeper into her flesh. She wriggled incessantly, mouth wide as she struggled for air.

"Oh God!" she gasped desperately. "It feels so good."

I kept at it for a space; tweaked, stroked, pinched, masturbated her with thumb and forefinger, until there was only one thing left to do to appease the ravening hunger of her chaste young loins. So I did it.

I slid down her body, reveling in the tight straining pressure of my flesh against hers. My wet lips followed the swells and hollows of her body in their descent, followed them with my own body and maneuvered it between her legs. I ran my lips around over the insides of her thighs, tantalizing them till they twitched spastically, scissored at my head, then relaxed, fell apart, open wide. The girl's helpless moans poured down over me in a fury of passionate sound.

Again her thighs clasped, unclasped, her hips did a weird little wriggling, quivering dance, like the fluttering wings of a mortally wounded bird as she writhed on the bed above me, enveloped in an invisible cocoon of excruciating maiden lust. She whimpered piteously from overpowering sensation when my tongue tantalized her cute navel, and she kept whimpering as I gradually worked myself farther down, laving and licking the twitching surface of her flat tummy as I went. I paused briefly when I reached the thin splash of ebony fleece that shielded her petite straddle, covered all the fleece I could with my mouth and sucked at it, glorying in the faintly saline taste mingled with the essence of her virgin juices. Together the two produced an oral-olfactory aphrodisiac so powerfully stimulating my bowels rumbled from the urgency of my need.

I scooted lower still, though but an inch or two, seeking the perfect position, one that would give me total yet comfortable access to the sweet treasure between her young thighs. I found the position and for some seconds lay motionless, unable to proceed, momentarily paralyzed with rapture by the vision which blessed my eyes.

Before me, within easy tongue's reach, was the priceless mystery of her blushing, dainty little cunt, pouting with impatient eagerness for my prompt attendance. I placed a thumb carefully on each side of it and drew the pouting lips apart with unpretentious reverence, thereby revealing to my adoring eyes the hidden delights of her pink, smoldering labia the palpitating orifice where soon I would ensconce the famished length of my hard, agonizing meat, and above this, near the upper extremity of her cleft, the tiny clitoris that formed the peak of her passion center and resembled the tip of a rooster's spur. It pulsated with anxiety under my fascinated gaze.

Sounds of extreme passion continued to issue from Weelel's throat. Her relief was coming soon. Very soon. The aphrodisiacal aroma of her vaginal perfume had grown stronger when I spread the lips of her cunt, and the effect on me was singular. Even alarming. The maddening incense made me want to bellow a mating call to the world, to stomp the earth in the joys of ravenous lust, to pound my chest. I did none of these things. Instead, and careful not to touch her pink flesh yet, I extended my nose toward her vagina till only the scantest fraction separated the two, and bathed my nostrils in the pure, sweet aroma of her untried pussy. I thought my heart would stop. I drew back quickly to recover. Blood hammered through my head like thundering war drums of an avenging hoard-all of which told me I had delayed long enough, though in fact no more than a minute had passed.

I settled comfortably on my elbows, worked my hands under the firm mounds of her buttocks and raised her crotch to meet my descending mouth. Weelel shuddered violently from sensations produced by my tongue tracing back and forth through her labial valley. The hot, juicy flesh of her tender young cunt tasted like sexual ambrosia. I kept my tongue busy in this manner for several rounds, then thrust the length of it into the panting aperture below her clit, darting it back and forth through her vulva in lightning fast thrusts. My fierce little Arabian pearl cried out in a thin, trembling wail. I nuzzled higher in her cunt, found the erect firmness of her passion switch, and titillated it with my tongue. From deep in her slender body came a long groan of blissful anguish. I seized the super sensitive spur between my lips and sucked with determined vigor.

CHAPTER FIVE

The girl seemed to go mad. Reason deserted her. She lost contact with reality and also lost control of herself in the blinding, breathtaking ecstasy of her pussy being sucked.

Her contortions grew wild and unpredictable. It took no little effort, but I clung to her, my face buried in her crotch, sucking her cunt voraciously while she flounced and bucked on the bed, sounds of her frantic struggles broken by low, tortured moans.

I squeezed the pliable bulk of her buttocks as I sucked and licked. Her buttocks tightened and relaxed in my hands, lunged in all directions in blissful torment. When I pulled them wide apart she offered no resistance, not even when I pressed a thumb against her puckered anus.

From my position I was able to observe her actions; saw her torso thrown about, saw her toss her head wildly, her face warped into a mask of dynamic lust preparing to explode.

Among the inarticulate sounds bubbling from her lips I made out:

"Now! Now! It's here now!"

Without a pause in sucking or changing position I shifted her buttocks to one hand, slid the forefinger of my other into her steamy, lubricated twat. Her non-human shriek tore about the room, spastic convulsions wracked her light frame, and the inner muscles of her cunt clamped around my finger as I withdrew it. A great quivering seized her. A moment more and the rampaging ecstasy of a mighty orgasm struck her without mercy and the perfumed essence of her maiden being flowed sweetly into my adoring mouth.

She quieted slowly and I crawled up to lay beside her, the screaming agony of my need for sexual relief like the torture of ten thousand fiendish demons. I looked at her. She seemed to have drifted into a coma. Her eyes were closed and she lay with arms out-flung and head thrown back, small breasts heaving in the aftermath of devastating emotion. I rolled close to her, kissed her ear.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Weelel?"

Her eyes opened slowly, at first held a dazed look.

"More than any other time in my life," she whispered in drowsy wonder. "How can anything be so beautiful? I feel sort of-holy. And shriven."

"I'm glad," I told her truthfully. "We will have many such good times together."

A small frown creased her smooth brow. She looked at me in alarm. Rememberance sprang into her eyes. In the heat of passion she had forgotten our bargain. That I had given her undreamed-of pleasure was a fact she couldn't even try to deny-and now it was time to reciprocate. To keep her part of our agreement she must let me fuck her without a struggle.

Quicker than a flash she flew from my side, streaking for the door. I caught her as she reached it, dragged her back and threw her on the bed. I had hoped this wouldn't happen, but now that it had....

"Please, Erak," she begged, dark eyes huge as she watched me strip sashes from around the drapes at the window. "Please don't do this to me." The fear in her tone was real. Her voice was husky with it.

"We have an agreement," I said with a roughness that was mostly fake. I had no desire to cause the girl pain, but also had no intention of letting her disrupt the orderly routine of my household-which the likelihood of her so doing increased with each day she continued to go un-fucked. Ita had suggested a rousing screw might alter Weelel's outlook on things and change her attitude in the harem for the better. I hoped Ita was right. A fractious, disgruntled harem could cause several problems. But aside from this I wanted to fuck the girl, meant to do precisely that. And damned soon. I held out the sashes.

"Either you accept me willingly or I'll tie you up and use force."

Her lovely face lost color. Her mouth worked in effort to speak, made it after several tries.

"Please, Erak. Don't do this to me."

"We made a bargain," I repeated. "I've kept my end of it. Now it's your turn to keep yours. Will you? Or shall I tie you up?"

Her fear filled eyes lowered, stared in abject terror at my cock.

"I can't accommodate that between my legs," she whimpered. "Force a thing that big into me and I'll die."

I knew she was grossly mistaken in this, of course. Knew it when I'd discovered earlier her cuntal opening was rather larger than one expects a virgin to have. She would feel some pain when I fucked her, at first, for most girls do at their first fucking, but Weelel would not feel the degree of pain she expected. Besides, nature was on her side. An opening that allowed an object the size of a newly born infant to come out certainly would be able to entertain an object the size of a man's prick going in. This was an irrefutable mathematical fact.

As a final resort I decided to try reasoning with the girl. Perhaps logic would succeed where all else had failed. Something had to succeed soon. I was so sexually aroused from sucking her cunt there was a hollow ringing in my ears. My testicles ached so hard they were growing numb and my cock was hard enough to strike a light on. Something must give soon; namely-Weelel's maidenhead.

"Listen to me," I said, adopting my most rational tone. She scrambled to a far corner of the bed as I took a seat on it. "And listen carefully. Woman was made for man to fuck. And man for woman. Nature designed the physical differences between male and female for that very purpose. Without fucking, where would the human race be today?"

"I don't want a baby yet," she said defensively, her unwavering gaze fixed on my upright rod.

"You aren't being asked to have a baby. There are many ways to prevent pregnancy. Any woman in the harem can teach them to you. Even I know some. No careful woman need have a baby till she wants one." Her hostile, frightened expression remained unchanged, so I decided to try another tact.

"If you like what I did to you awhile ago, then you will like coitus much better. Many women have told me they receive a hundred times more pleasure from conventional sexual intercourse with a man than they do from oral intercourse." This was not exactly the truth, but it got to her.

"It can't be better," she said slowly, warm memory in her eyes as she raised them to mine. A tremor edged her voice when she continued. "Honestly. There's nothing in the whole wide world better than-what you did."

My patience was fading fast. My loins screamed for relief. I had three choices. I could go to my harem, jack-off or fuck Weelel. There was no question about it. I would fuck Weelel. It never entered my mind not to fuck her. My patience snapped.

I lunged across the bed, caught her by surprise and grabbed her ankle. I dragged her roughly to my side, just as roughly tore the remains of the robe from her shoulders. By then she had recovered and commenced to fight.

I once heard the story of a man who had the great misfortune to suddenly find himself in a den of wildcats. I can sympathize with that man, though Weelel never attacked. She was too concerned with resistance and escape, of remaining free of my grasp. Her success was limited in that she was never able to escape off the bed.

Nevertheless, and despite my greater strength and weight, her incredible agility and speed of movement almost proved their equal. I would no more than have a firm hold on her when she would twist free and I would barely manage to stop her ere she got her feet on the floor. Sounds of our heavy breathing filled the room, soon our bodies were covered with perspiration. She fought silently but with the cunning and determination of the little desert hellion she was-even though her resistance was hopeless from the onset. I had only to summon my eunuchs to subdue her. Yet I didn't. Not only was the affair one more or less of honor because she refused to fulfill her part of the bargain, but I must confess to experiencing a certain erotic zest in our struggles.

At one point she became encumbered with the tangled bed clothes and for a thought was faced away from me on hands and knees. Before she could untangle herself I was atop her, my long suffering cock w-edged between her upper thighs from behind. Lustful animal instinct took over and I hunched mightily. The head of my starving prick met little resistance in her straddle, still well lubricated as it was by her natural secretions and my saliva, and slipped easily into her labia. She loosed a piercing scream. I hunched again, felt the bald knob of my cock blunt against her vulva, felt the vulva give, expand. With another needle-pointed shriek of terror she broke the position and the fight was on again.

At any time I could have slugged her into unconsciousness and taken the prize I sought, but I wanted her fully aware of it when I worked my prick into her belly. And so it went-till fatigue overcame her, till she grew too exhausted to resist further. For a time we lay panting side by side, not speaking, her facial features cast in a mold of stark misery and mute resignation.

"Now," I said at last. "Is it necessary to tie you up with those sashes?"

Her look was that of a wounded gazelle waiting for the hunter's killing blow. Tears of helpless despair filled her eyes. She shook her head smally.

"No." The word was the faintest of sounds. "It isn't necessary. Do with me as you will."

This wasn't exactly the way I wanted it, but in my over-heated condition I gave the matter little thought. Not only my balls ached; my prick throbbed. I ached and throbbed from head to foot with the dull, stifling agony of my need. My loins-hunger was frightening. The animal of lust inside me had become a ravenous beast and if I didn't soon assuage the fierce demands of nature I feared I might go mad.

Weelel hesitantly positioned herself to receive me, dark eyes pools of dumb misery, and I swung into the saddle, heart thudding crazily against my ribs. The time for ceremony was past. I planted the knob of my prick inside the lips of her labia. And the earth rocked.

The world shattered into countless billions of tiny particles of delicious agony that surged in a liquid avalanche of scalding semen through my tortured meat. The world went black. I couldn't breathe. Brutal pressures of raw ecstasy from the orgasm hammered at me from all sides, slugged spastic gushes of hot yang from my balls, spewed them into the open cleft of Weelel's waiting cunt. The deafening roar in my head lessened as my vision cleared, as light returned and I realized the desperate, savage snarls that filled the room came from my own throat. The orgasm left me stunned and shaken and too weak to support my weight. I collapsed heavily down against Weelel, an inert mass of stupefied flesh pressed against her small body.

When reality came into focus and I could breathe normally I hoisted my weight to knees and elbows once more.

"Erak?" Tender concern was in her voice, had replaced the fear and despair. She took my face in her palms, studied it in detail.

"Erak, dearest," she repeated when I failed to answer. "I had no idea." The concern was mingled with the awe of discovery and self condemnation. "I didn't realize."

"Didn't realize what?" I managed shakily, adjusting my hips till the end of my rod was again stationed against her vulva. It was still flint hard, still throbbed with hunger, though the cataclysmic orgasm had released the excess pressure in my loins. But I was now more determined than ever to fuck her.

"I didn't realize the needs of a man could be so tremendous. Will you forgive me for being so helpless and thoughtless?" by way of an answer I brought our mouths together in a kiss of passionate tenderness. Her lips were sweet and eager, her silken tongue slithered about inside my mouth like a hot, pink little lizard.

"Would your realizing the urgency of my need have caused you to change your mind before now?" I asked when the kiss was over.

"I don't know. I think so, but I greatly feared the pain."

"And now you don't?"

"No."

"Why so?"

"Something you said-that nature arranged the physical differences between male and female so they could fuck. Every normal woman must go through a first fucking sometime. Otherwise she isn't a woman complete. Is this not so?"

"So now you are willing for me to make you a woman complete?" Her sudden conversion was immensely gratifying. Now there would be no dissension in the harem or interruption of the household routine. Ita had been absolutely correct. All Weelel need was a thorough fucking. And she was about to get it.

"Yes Erak, but not only willing. Now I insist you make me a woman complete."

"Yet there may be pain."

"So let there be pain. We of the desert are not unaccustomed to it." Her eyes held mine, and impish grin stole over her face, she moved her straddle minutely against the head of my cock. "Do you have any left?"

I didn't get her meaning. "Any what?"

"Girls in the harem call it cream." She moved her hips again. "You bathed me with the stuff."

I couldn't suppress a chuckle. The change which had come over this girl was utterly delightful. "I have plenty left-always."

"Hmmmmm." She pretended to pout in disbelief. "Do we lay here like this all day?" she asked mischievously, "or do you prove it?"

We were in for a flabbergasting surprise, which we learned of when I applied pressure with my hips and she squirmed her straddle to position in line with the axis of my cock, her expression set in preparation to endure the expected pain. But it never happened. There was no pain; no more than a fleeting twinge. The knob of my prick penetrated her cunt smoothly, sweetly, with hardly any resistance. Even in the urgency of the moment, with our bodies charged with quivering lust, I halted my advance and we stared in silent wonder at each other. Moments passed before I realized that during our recent struggle, when she had been tangled in the bedclothes on hands and knees and I had hunched her from behind, my aim was so accurate her hymen had been rent asunder. No wonder she had screamed so loud. She also recalled the incident, knew what had happened.

"Oh Erak." Soft arms crept around my neck. "I'm so glad it's past I could cry." She teased my ear with her tongue. "Go ahead darling. Put him all in."

"Lift your knees high," I whispered thickly. "It'll be better for both of us."

When she did I commenced my advance once more, working my hips in small circular undulations as I maneuvered my cock a fraction at the time into the juicy hotness of her chaste young cunt. This slow procedure was intentional. Technically she was no longer a virgin, but this was her first time to have a hard cock put in her belly and I saw little point in not being cautious. Besides, I wanted to observe her reactions. This wasn't easy, excited with cunt-hunger as I was, but I managed.

Her expression changed from wonder to awe to blissful contentment as my prick forged its way deep into her womb. Her breathing grew rapid and several times she licked her lips, appeared as if about to speak. Toward the end, when nearly all my cock was ensconced in her body, she gave a low, passionate moan, the soft planes and gentle angles of her face crumpled in tears of gladness.

"So good," she sobbed quietly. "It feels so good."

I didn't reply. Words were secondary. Now was the time for action. Slowly, rhythmically, with measured tempo, I began fucking into her-and she began to make tiny feminine sounds from a wondrous joy at the miracle happening to her.

Ere long, with that inborn instinct that is a fundamental element in any female, she was meeting my rhythm with a gentle counter-rhythm of her own; rocking her hips back to swallow my prick to the hilt at each in-stroke, then rolling them forward and down to rub her clitoris along the top surface when I withdrew.

"Erak, oh, Erak," she cooed close to my ear. "The goodness of it all." Her hands kneaded the flesh above my hips into strange shapes, her thighs enfolded my waist and each time our bodies came together I felt the muscles of her tummy knot and jerk against mine. Her time was drawing near.

I wanted her climax this time to be even more momentous than the one preceding, and in view of this I was using all the subtle tricks and techniques designed to intensify an orgasm that past sexual experiences had taught me. This time when she came I wanted it to be an experience she'd never forget. Then she would be mine in truth and not by the technicality of slavery. It was somewhat similar to a man putting his personal brand on his animals.

One of these tricks called for me to cease fucking for a spell, to remain in position, my prick sunk to the limit but not working it. This always has been one of the hardest things in my entire life to do. It was no less hard now. Nevertheless, again, I managed.

This little maneuver is best employed after a man has fucked several times and obtained firm control over himself; can orgasm or not, as he pleases. The purpose of it is obvious. So is the process.

The woman has been laying beneath the man getting fucked. All her erotic instincts are honed to razor sharpness and concentrated on one single purpose. Her body has been straining toward that most fantastic of all human physical phenomenon-the sexual orgasm. Then the man stops fucking and the woman also becomes motionless, yet subconsciously her erotic instincts continue to function. Her body chemistry is such that it continues to struggle toward the orgasm, which, under the circumstances, cannot find release. This is not unlike water being boiled in a tightly sealed vessel, one that has no opening for steam to get out. Just so, powerful sexual tensions and tremendous erotic pressures are built up within the woman, but unable to escape.

When the man begins to fuck again, this continuance of the sex act produces a shattering lust-explosion in the woman, giving her an orgasm of frightening intensity. But very gratifying, and one that does the man's ego remarkable good in his knowing he brought it about.

For this reason I worked our loins solidly together, my prick buried to the limit in her willing belly and held the position, not moving. As I've said, it was anything but easy. Weelel also had trouble getting a grip on her emotions. After a while she spoke.

"Why do you stop, Erak? Are you tired?"

"A bit," I lied. Any man has a few secrets he'll tell no woman. "We'll rest a moment, then start again. Do you like what we're doing?"

Her face was aglow with an inner joy. "I have no words to express it," she purred dreamily, lowering her feet to the bed. She laughed softly; a warm, intimate sound. "What a complete fool I've been."

"Now you're a complete woman."

"Yes," she sighed happily, dark eyes shining. "And I have you to thank for it."

"Yet all the time we could have been doing this." I was making conversation simply to kill time while the erotic elements of her body built into an explosive force.

"I'm sorry, Erak. Believe me. I'll never deny you again. But we must change the subject to get my mind off it or I'll just lay here and go quietly mad."

This was very acceptable for my purpose. The longer we refrained, up to a point, the greater would be her culmination.

"What shall we talk about?"

She puzzled a moment, then brightened. "The dwarf?"

"What dwarf?"

"He's a slave dealer. The eunuch you have check the market each day told the harem about him. He also has an acrobatic troupe-the dwarf, I mean. He is very popular, but I think it's really his dog that attracts all the attention."

"What sort of dog?" I recalled Ita having mentioned a dog and that it was trained in a most peculiar way.

"It's a great wolfhound as tall as a man's waist and has long fierce fangs that paralyzes with fear the animals it fucks."

"What?"

She nodded, giggling. "The dwarf has it trained to fuck any other animal smelling of a certain scent, which the dwarf carries with him. The eunuch told us all about it. He saw it happen. The dwarf poured the scent on a sheep and the wolfhound growled with terrible growls and bared his fangs and the poor sheep was so terrified it just stood there, motionless and bleating, while the wolfhound fucked it. I would like to see that."

I would like to see it too. And so would the Emir. Such oddities delighted him. Then and there I resolved to learn more about this dwarf and his dog and have them appear some evening at the palace. The Emir "Erak!"

The word cut short my thoughts. Weelel's lovely dark face was drawn in tight lines of harrowing lust.

"Oh Erak!" she whimpered a second time.

"Are you about to come?" I hoped not-not yet. This was not the way I'd planned it. I lay above her still as death, fearing that if my cock sheathed in her belly moved the merest fraction it would trigger her orgastic upheaval.

"I-I was, but-maybe not," she gasped, eyes clinched. "I don't want to now. I want to wait and come with you. Can we come together, Erak?"

"We can try." To switch her thoughts I said quickly, "What else shall we talk about?"

"You," she said, releasing a shaky sigh. "You're the most talked about person in Tabriz because the Emir officially adopted you as his son and will leave you the throne in preference to his own kinsman Yuddus. A million rumors have already reached the harem through the eunuchs. They bring in all the gossip. Have you heard the most prevalent bit of gossip, Erak?"

"No." I brushed her brow with my lips, thinking it was about time to start fucking her again. "I never listen to gossip."

"Perhaps you should. It says Yuddus considers the throne his natural birthright and will have you assassinated to prevent your getting it."

She made sense but I was ahead of her. I expected Yuddus to make a play and when he did I'd put his ass in a sling. I only hoped I could get my prick in that plump, succulent wife of his before things got too rough. I was pretty sure I could screw Nazera without any trouble. All I needed was the chance. But right now I had things besides Yuddus and his treachery to think about. Right now I meant to do something about the delectable morsel speared on my cock.

I felt a change come over Weelel as I made the decision. It was not something I could pin down right then, but the change was there. I sensed her shy innocence replaced by something entirely different the instant I began moving my cock about inside her once more.

The small coughing grunt of a rutting tigress burst from her lips. Heat began lifting from her slender body in waves. She put her hands behind my head, roughly pulled our lips together in a demanding kiss, the length of her tongue playing about mine and sending delightful ants of sensation over my skin. She writhed and murmured under me as I fucked her, bit at my neck several times, and at my chin. I felt the full imprint of her against me, the hard little nipples digging into my chest, the soft flesh of her loins and thighs rubbing against my flesh as she squirmed. Her thighs closed in on me on either side, pressed convulsively against my hips. Her hands darted down between us and I could feel her fingers play lightly about the shaft as I screwed into her. Once she tried to insert a finger alongside the invading rod. She was breathing hard.

On the next in-stroke I gave a little extra hunch with my hips, drove my prick so deep into her belly her virgin fluids wet the top front of my scrotum and she uttered a long, low animal cry. Her eyes closed tightly and her hips wriggled sexily under the weight of my loins. A large vein throbbed on her neck and her back bowed, pushing her breasts hard against my chest. Breath heaved in her throat, broke from her lips in tiny mewling puffs.

Again she matched my rhythm with her own, this time with an aggressive, famished intensity, and a sweet, awesome ache pervaded my prick. I ran my hands over her lovely flesh, grasping and releasing her shoulders, her thighs, her waist as I fucked with gusto. Then I slipped my hands down around the taut warm buttocks, weighed them, each nerve attuned to her adoring torment.

I rammed my cock brutally into her to the utmost depth, held the stroke and wiggled my ass, grinding my flesh against hers, torturing her clitoris without mercy.

"I can't stand it!" she wailed brokenly as I fell back and slammed into her again, then kept repeating the stroke.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth sagged open and she jiggled against my impaling prick like a dying insect, gasping for breath. Her hands grabbed at my arms, the flesh of my rib cage, and I kept pounding into her. Her thighs moved wildly, her slender body heaved and swayed, the mounds and hollows of it creating a sensuous friction against mine that made us sweat and flush with a luscious warmth.

I lifted my torso, shoved myself up so I could look down at the point of action, saw the veined shaft of my rigid meat piston back and forth. She clutched my shoulders, struggled upward, straining her neck to stare at our coupled loins also. She boggled in lustful awe at sight of the big male root surging in and out of her greedy cunt. She fell back with an abandoned shiver, belly heaving in great choking gasps. Her head commenced to flail from side to side in the manner of a person suffering some terrible scourge, and each few seconds her eyes would open to stare at me in tormented desperation.

My stomach quaked. I trembled all over with physical sensations. All at once it felt as if Weelel were some unique sucking device about to vacuum all my emotions out through the head of my penis. She raked my back with her nails and through my approaching ecstasy I felt the pain, punished her for it with strokes of redoubled fury into her lathering cunt.

This increased activity fed her mounting passion and she pulled her thighs up till her knees almost touched her shoulders.

"I'm dying," she sobbed helplessly. "It's killing me." Her tongue came out. She sucked her lips and her teeth chattered in the fury of her lust. The heat wafting upward from her squirming body now came in forceful surges and she panted like a wounded doe. She would orgasm any second.

When she did orgasm her response to the merciless onslaught almost distracted me from the enjoyment of my own culmination. The way it happened with her reminded me of the lull which precedes a hurricane. Suddenly she re laxed completely, her arms and thighs fell from me and for some seconds she regarded me with an entranced look, purring in sensuous contentment.

Abruptly the orgasm struck with brutal deliberation. Her hands flew out in shock, seized the bed, her body bucked upward and a horrendous scream poured from her constricted throat. In the process of coming myself, I stopped all action, felt her spasming inner-cunt muscles chewing on the prick sunk in her seething passage.

In the delicious savagery of her upheaval she found her voice long enough to scream: "Help me!" Then her eyes protruded dangerously from their sockets, she bared her teeth, began chewing her tongue in helpless abandonment while she bucked and lunged with the utter distraction of one gone raving mad. Heels trounced my buttocks from her wildly flailing legs and in a violent series of spastic jerks of her hips, again and again thrust her cunt up and back along my impaling prick. Effect of this swallowing-sucking action on me was instantaneous.

Jagged streaks of raw lust tore through me from head to toe and massive, scalding charges of boiling semen gushed into her belly. She screeched like a soul doomed to eternity in hell's fire as her womb became engorged with my release and her actions exploded into such violence I feared she might throw us to the floor. But in the zenith of my climax I was powerless to do other than maintain my position atop her, pumping great globs of white-hot relief into her convulsing body.

The length of time it took her seizure to fade was the longest I've ever witnessed in any female. When it did at last fade she collapsed under me with a trembling, gaspy sigh of profound contentment, permitting all tension to flow from her body. She lay with arms out-flung, legs splayed to the side and her eyes dull, seemingly in a torpor of satiated lust. She remained thus till I made to dismount.

"No!" she whispered feverishly. "Let's do it again."

Our loins were slick from my first discharge and an exploring hand told me the cleavage of her buttocks and the bed below were gooey from the spoils of lust.

"First let's clean up a bit," I told her.

She worked herself up on elbows, her avid gaze on our joined bodies. She grunted delicately when I eased rearward, relishing in the friction between our sensitized organs as I pulled my prick out of her cunt with savoring slowness.

We had just finished bathing, were getting ready to go another round, when one of my eunuchs knocked on the door.

"Master," he said politely. "A courier from the royal palace has arrived with the message from the Emir that he wants you to join him there immediately."

Weelel was distraught by the interruption, only recovered from a fit of tears when I promised to call her from the harem again soon. Apparently the rousing fuck I'd given had banished all desire to return to her father which was as it should be.

CHAPTER SIX

The pudgy figure of Nur-es-Samad, the Emir, waddled back and forth before a huge window in the main room of his private quarters, moon face puckered in a heavy frown, when I arrived. At sight of me he became all smiles.

"Erak, my son," he beamed, clasping me to him, then stepping back to view me from arm's length. "I trust you had a pleasant visit with Yeneen last night."

I laughed, recalling Ita's comments. "So you know about it, too?"

"As the future ruler of Tabriz, your every action from now on will be under the closest scrutiny," he said. "But that isn't why I asked you to join me here at the palace. I'll get straight to the point. My reason for asking you here is twofold. Frequently I permit my personal bodyguard to-ah-sport with any of the palace women who care to join them in an afternoon's frolic in one of the gardens. This is a practice you must maintain when you ascend the throne. It assures you of the guard's loyalty. Anyway, would you like to witness one such frolic with me this afternoon? They have no objections to me, and you of course, observing their antics." His sidelong smile gave me a hint but I asked the question anyway.

"What sort of antics?"

"The young soldiers and the girls-ah romp and play with a minimum of clothes on and engage in various games. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself."

I agreed to attend, naturally. I had a great curiosity about these frolics, but at the moment I would have just as soon returned to Weelel.

"What was the other reason you wanted to see me?" I asked.

"My harem." Nur's eyes twinkled in his fat face.

"Your-harem?" This caught me up short.

"Right," he wheezed, taking a seat at the center table and motioning for me to do the same. "Let us be realistic, my son," he went on. "At my age what does a man need with a harem. Yet in my position I am forced to keep one, and by nature and age forced to ignore it. I haven't been inside my harem in years." He shook his head, eyes never leaving my face. "Such a waste. Such a shameful waste. The girls are the select of the kingdom and the harem will rival even yours in youth and beauty and-ah-variety."

I nodded, not answering. The suspicions beginning to take shape in my thoughts wouldn't let me. By some sixth sense I knew what he was going to say before he said it and a fierce exultation welled inside me.

"Therefore, my son," he sighed. "Since the harem becomes part of your inheritance at my death, I see no reason it shouldn't become yours now-with the understanding this arrangement be kept as secret as possible, of course."

"Of course." Right then I could manage nothing better. I knew most of his harem girls by name, had talked with them many times in the Emir's presence during visits to the palace. Any one of them was sexy enough to give a dead man a hard on, but two or three were superior to anything in my harem at home. My cock began to stir hungrily under my tunic, scenting new prey.

"I get so sorry for the girls," the Emir continued after a space. "As a matter of policy I permit them to keep certain means of mechanical relief around, but pinned up in there as they are, with no man around, nothing but eunuch guards. Your visits there should be most enlightening."

And so the matter was settled. In addition to my own extensive harem, I now had access to his. Prospects of the lustful adventures to come boggled the imagination.

"And now let us speak of Kleyr," the Emir said. "You know the girl is very dear to me."

I nodded. She was dear to me also, but that was as far as it went. She couldn't stand the sight of me and even though the Emir was aware of her attitude toward me, I commented on it.

"I wouldn't be too sure about her disliking you, Erak," he said. "Kleyr had the misfortune of seeing one of her little friends raped when she was nine. I know for a fact that sight of the sex act between others is not odious to her. Perhaps if you used a bit of forceful persuasion it would help."

I couldn't understand what he meant by sight of the sex act between others not being odious to Kleyr, but let it slide. "You mean I should rape her?"

"I doubt if that will be necessary. Once you make love with her I believe her opinion of you will change."

I couldn't argue with this. In the past two hours I had seen proof this theory was sound. Weelel had been a completely different person after I'd fucked her.

"I'll think about it," I told him. "What about Yuddus? I hear rumors you're adopting me as a son has thrown him into a rage."

"Yuddus," Nur said slowly for emphasis, "is my blood kin, but he'd better watch his step or I'll banish him from Tabriz. He's always causing some sort of embroilment. I'm getting a bit tired of Yuddus." He got laboriously to his feet, moon face wreathed in smiles once more. "Well, is it first to the frolic and then to your new harem, or will you go to the harem first?"

As much as I wanted to say the harem, I didn't, knowing he wanted me to accompany him to the frolic-whatever that was.

I soon learned exactly what it was. The naked young men and women cavorting gaily about inside the high-walled garden were explanation enough. It was little short of stunning. I'd heard whispers of the parties Nur gave his personal bodyguard, and now understood their slavish devotion to him. It was an unmistakable commentary on his understanding of the basic nature of the human animal.

"Some frolic," I mumbled inanely as we entered. I stood beside him staring in dumb delight at the dozen young maidens frisking about. Scattered over the lawn, in the shade of fruit trees, under the shrubbery, others were coupled in passionate embrace with the guards. One girl whom I recognized as daughter of the palace gate keeper stood with feet planted wide apart and bent forward at the waist, hands on her knees. Behind her a lusty young stud screwed vigorously. I gaped, wondering if I should believe.

"When all this becomes your responsibility, Erak," the Emir told me quietly, "never force any of the girls to attend one of these frolics. Arrange these little gatherings in such a manner that everybody enjoys them so much they'll want to attend. That's the secret. The girls here are chambermaids, servants, from the kitchens and the like, but each comes of her own accord. In fact, they would be terribly peeved if they were not allowed to come. Quite often some lady of the royal court will don a mask and sneak in here for the kind of screw she wants but can't get from her husband." He pointed toward a big breasted, softly plump female standing near the swimming pool. She was naked, like all the others present, except for a small black bag with eye-holes over her head and tightened by a drawstring under her chin. "There's one now. The mask is to keep her identity hidden. My orders to the others are that they must never enquire as to who one of these 'sneakers,' as they are called, are. After all, nature must and will be served."

We strolled to a shaded table covered with fruits and wine jugs and took seats. My hard cock made it a bit awkward to walk. The Emir noticed my hard on and chuckled heartily. I looked at the naked woman in the mask, feeling I should recognize her and wondering why I didn't.

"You never participate in these frolics?" I asked the rotund little ruler.

"No," he said regretfully, casting a meaningful glance at the small tent my upright prick made at the front of my tunic. "But if I were as well equipped as you I would."

"Then it is permitted?" My heart quickened. "For me, I mean?"

"For you anything is permitted. I originated these frolics for my own pleasure many years ago. I was a young man then and not nearly so concerned about the comfort and welfare of my bodyguard. Join them if you like."

"What are the rules?" I jumped up, began jerking off my garments with shaky hands.

"Rules? For my successor to the throne there are no rules. Make them up as you go along. I always did. The women are here for one purpose only. Pick one and shag her. That's what they expect-and want. After you satisfy yourself I may have a surprise for you."

This last, about the surprise, I barely heard. As for satisfying myself with sex; I never had and never expected to. I was too engrossed with that plump tidbit in the mask by the pool. Why no guard had approached her as yet I didn't know. And didn't care. Only glad because of it.

She stood with her back toward me, trailing a toe in the water, when I bounded across the lawn in her direction. She had full, lush hips accentuated by the smallness of her waist, and firm thighs that could enfold a man's waist in hot embrace when he fucked her. As she played in the water with extended foot she somehow managed to jiggle her sculptured buttocks suggestively, as though signaling some passing prick to stop and play. Her signal had been received. I stepped up behind her, slid my hands under her arms and cupped a large ripe breast fruit in each palm.

"Go away," she said casually over her shoulder. "I'm waiting for another."

The sound of her voice intrigued me. Now I was positive I knew who she was and because I failed to recognize her was annoyed with myself.

"You were waiting for someone else," I said. "But not anymore."

She whirled in the circle of my arms, so close one hip pushed my hard prick off at an angle, her nipples brushing my chest. The eyes behind the mask were inscrutable.

"How can you be sure of that?" she demanded, the hauteur of her tone tempered with warm, gladsome laughter. A soft hand stole to my cock, caressed it and teased the glans with gentle pinches, then searched lower, found my testicles and weighed them lovingly, all of which made me damn well suspicious.

"You knew I would accompany the Emir to this frolic this afternoon, didn't you?" I asked, beginning to understand.

"I wasn't sure," she said, again with happy, intimate laughter. "He only promised to invite you. I was hoping."

"Then I'm the one you were waiting for?" Things were moving a bit fast. For a moment I felt like the man ignored by circumstances.

"You are," she said boldly. "Should I be ashamed for being so brazen?"

"Are you brazen?" Then I decided to play it real stupid. "Why were you waiting for me?" The question shook her. The eyes behind the mask studied me in puzzlement.

"You don't know?" She caressed my cock again and a luscious tremor sped through her. Something in my face gave me away and she pulled on my rod, drawing our bodies together. Her flesh was soft and smooth and hot. "Quit teasing me, Eraker-Rashid," she pouted. "You know what I want. And if it's any satisfaction to your male ego, I've wanted it since first you showed up at the palace."

A perverse notion, possibly engendered over my annoyance at not recognizing her, sponsored my next remark.

"Tell me what it is you want. Speak the words so I can hear them."

Her ripe breasts lifted from a quick intake of breath. Her gaze locked with mine. A mischievous glimmer appeared in the depths of her eyes and I knew that behind the mask she was smiling.

"All right," she said saucily. "If you insist. I want you to fuck me. Satisfied?"

"Not till I know who you are." This was a lie. I'd have fucked her then and there, even standing up, had such been the only recourse. But I was curious as to her identity.

"This mask is for the others," she said, pointing toward the far side of the garden. "There's a small alcove in the wall behind those mint bushes near the corner. When we get there I'll remove the mask."

Just then a couple raced past; a giggling girl chased by a burly guard whose erection switched wildly from the running. Several yards beyond us he caught her by the hips and they tumbled to the grass with triumphant masculine cries and squeals of mock protest from the girl. The squeals stopped when he rolled atop her and she made no protest at his hand searching quickly about her straddle to find purchase for his cock. When he found it she became totally cooperative. In one or two hunches their bodies were joined in lustful coupling.

"We can watch if you like," the girl behind the mask said reluctantly. "Here in this garden nobody cares. Just look." She indicated the lawn with a sweep of her hand. The grass was dotted with couples, most of them dominated by a lunging male ass. The gate keeper's daughter was still bent forward, hands on knees, and the same guard behind her still fucking furiously.

"Come on." I took the girl by the arm. "Let's go to the alcove."

She led the way and as I watched the saucy sway of her lush bottom preceding me the animal of unappeased lust moved sluggishly in my belly. Weelel was a delight beyond compare, yet when I'd left her I'd been far from satisfied. But then I have rarely, if ever, had enough sex to quench the fires in my loins. I didn't expect to get enough now, though trying held for me a never flagging fascination.

She turned when we reached the alcove behind the mint bushes, which were tall and thick enough to shield us from other eyes. A stone bench built into the wall circled the alcove, devoid of furniture save a sturdy, thick-legged table.

"So you want to know who I am, do you?" she chided, pulling at the drawstring holding the mask in place. "Shame on you for not recognizing me in the mask, Erak. It isn't at all flattering." She yanked the mask off and my heart leaped at sight of her lovely oval features and faintly oriental eyes.

Nazera! The treacherous Yuddus' wife! The choice cunt I'd been wanting to get my prick in for months. She grinned engagingly at my happy surprise, stepped close, this time both her hands going to my genitals. At contact of her smooth warm flesh against mine, tiny shocks of pleasure darted all over me. My rod angled up between our bodies and her hips moved, surrounding it hotly with the flesh of her loins and belly.

"You're such a manly size, Erak," she whispered. "All the ladies of the royal court gossip about it in secret. That's another reason I cajoled the Emir to invite you to the frolic this afternoon." She held up a hand, measured off a forefinger with her thumb, her face heavy with disgust. "Yuddus is no larger than that."

I didn't answer, just drew her to me and kissed the scented flesh of her neck, sucking at the flesh as my hands roved down her spine; stroking her buttocks, caressing her shoulders, reaching under the buttocks and pulling them up and in toward me. This was the girl I'd dreamed of fucking with almost the same passion I'd dreamed of fucking Kleyr. Her thighs tensed against mine. She sighed a deep sigh of eager submission.

My fingers seemed to burn as they coursed gently over her flesh, tasting its firmness, its roundness, its glossy texture, its warmth and responsive trembling. Her body rubbed and squirmed against mine and I dug my fingers deep into her ass, seizing the flesh in handfuls till she squealed and bit my neck. I swung her into my arms and carried her toward the table.

Sounds of the others in the garden reached us but dimly. For the moment I forgot the Emir had turned his harem over to me, that the harem was filled with ravishingly beautiful young maidens with seething cunts that had never known the assault of a man's hard penis. I could think only of the succulent, naked wife of my sworn enemy that I held in my arms. My stone-stiff prick felt hard enough to strike fire.

I laid her down on the table, devouring her lush charms with my eyes, then half knelt, braced against the table, and kissed her fiercely, invading her sweet, full-lipped mouth with my tongue. The fervor of her response was almost frightening.

I pulled my mouth suckingly from hers and caught a firm dark nipple between my teeth. I sucked at her breast, drew as much of the solid, malleable flesh into my mouth as possible. Her nipples hardened under my tongue and she gasped desperately, took one of my hands and placed it on the bristly thatch at her thigh junction. I looked at her questioningly.

"You want me to kiss you there?"

Her brown eyes gazed at me in a look of concentrated passion. "Yes," she whispered hoarsely.

She wriggled on her back till her buttocks protruded over the edge of the table while I moved in the direction her feet pointed and dropped to my knees on the grass. Then she raised and spread her thighs, angling them back toward her shoulders.

Within inches of my face was the pink-fleshed, hair-bordered cleft of her open cunt. I leaned forward, put my lips to it. She gave a little shriek when she felt them. I began to kiss the moist, saline tasting flesh, poked my tongue into it as high as it would go and moved it around. She shrieked again. I licked the inside of her lush thighs, reveling in the aphrodisiacal perfume of hot juicy cunt. Then I shifted my attack to her tiny passion peak, seized the firm little spur with my lips. It dodged and slipped in my mouth.

Nazera flung her legs wide, churned the air with her feet, squirming and yelping with tiny, helpless explosions of passion. Her nails clawed the table and her face, drawn with furrows of passion, moved from side to side with jerky, involuntary movements. Her eyes were closed, her mouth wide open, gasping for breath.

I gnawed gently at her cunt; sucked, licked, nipped the sensitive flesh with my lips. She wouldn't be long in coming. I placed a thumb and forefinger on either side of my mouth, spread wide the lips of her vagina, then darted the length of my tongue in and out of her cuntal opening. Her trembling wail of abandonment was my reward. I moved my finger to place the tip against the puckered brown ring between her buttocks, forced the finger inside the little cave entrance and frigged her with it.

"Aaaaagh!" It was one long voluptuous sigh, which immediately became gaspy moans in my ears. Her moist, warm slipperiness assailed my mouth, the taste of it good on my tongue as I sucked and delved.

My prick was one long stiff mass of pulsating excitement that strained upward, as if trying to reach the cunt under my mouth.

I nudged into her crotch and her loins leaped up to meet me. Her straddle ground and twitched against my face, her thighs clasped and unclasped my head over and over. From her throat came a low, drawn-out continuous whine, her whole body twisting and turning in ecstatic torment. As badly as I wanted to bore into her with my prick, the fury of her arousal excited me to the point where I sucked and tugged at her wet cunt like a starving animal.

I heard her sharp, timorous cry, as if from pain, heard her balled fists pounding the table in an ecstasy of abandonment. Then she gave a low, gurgling scream and a sticky heat was added to the wetness of her cunt.

She continued to moan and writhe for some time after her climax and I continued to suck her gently, to start her arousal again and till she relaxed and let her legs angle down from the table.

"I thought I was going crazy," she murmured contentedly, then spat with sudden viciousness: "That stupid husband of mine would never kiss me so! I hate him! Watch him, Erak. He has threatened to have you assassinated. He is power-mad. God help Tabriz if he ever gets the throne."

We talked for a while; a painful ordeal for me due to my need, fondling each other and kissing frequently, till her passion flamed anew.

"You give a delicious blow-job, Erak," she breathed on my lips as we stood beside the table. Her thighs were open against me as she clung around my neck, fiery tongue exploring my mouth. The warm friction of her smooth flesh pressed into my own hit me with waves of suffocating lust. She pulled herself up on me, seeking to capture my rod between her thighs.

I caught her under the rump, a buttock in each hand, and raised her off the grass. She tightened her arms about my neck and brought a leg high up on either side of me, hanging there as I held her. I felt the wet heat of her open cunt on my lower abdomen.

Quickly I moved around to the end of the table, sat her on the edge of it, reached under her upraised thighs with my hand and guided my agonizing prick toward her waiting vagina. I separated my feet to lower my loins to the proper height, adjusted my stance, and when I finished the bald knob of my cock was firmly fixed in the mouth of her womb.

A raspy sob of passion cleared her throat as she stared down to where our bodies were about to be more solidly joined.

"Ah-ah-ah-ahhhh," she cried in a short series of staccato gasps. These changed to pleading whines, like those of an injured pup, when I moved forward and sweetly, smoothly glided my rigid meat all the way into the delicious depths of her torrid cunt.

I felt the soft hotness of inflamed flesh envelop my prick. The walls of her channel were tight, clamped greedily about the length of my cock, but were well oiled by nature and pre pared to expand with the entry of my lust-bloated penis.

Grinding my teeth in passion I pulled her to the very edge of the table and pumped into her with a force that came up from my toes and slapped my abdomen with flopping sounds against her steamy straddle. She sat with hands braced on the table top, thighs wide and drawn far back, hypnotized beyond utterance by the sight of my starving meat pistoning in her cunt. Invisible vapors of lust wafted upward to my nostrils, spurring me on to greater effort.

Of a sudden she threw herself forward, laced her fingers behind my neck and clung there, gasping in tortured heat. Her ripe breasts jiggled from my action, swayed against my chest, her hair brushing my face. Her teeth nipped my neck in a frenzy of uncontrollable emotion and she moved her quivering lips around my cheeks, chin and finally fastened them on mine. Her searching tongue plunged into my mouth in willing surrender. She tantalized my tongue into the open, pounced with her lips upon it and sucked greedily, mewling sounds coming from her throat. Her eyes were open, pleading, but each time I slid my cock up into her belly the mewls were broken by a dainty feminine grunt of approval and her eyes would half close.

I rammed my rod all the way home and held it there, but moved it about amongst her secret places, felt the muscles of her inner-cunt contract, nibble on the glans. Then I began surging into her again, hands clasped about her hips, groaning and panting.

She moaned in a weltering morass of lust, tongue again forging into my mouth.

I slid my hands under her buttocks in an ecstatic fury, lifted her free of the table and walked about the alcove, jogging into her, feeling her bounce up and down on the shaft, both of us working together toward that pinpoint of time when our raging lusts would overflow in a deluge of delicious agony. She whined and choked in a delirium of passion preparing to run amuck, rubbing her lips all over my face.

I moved her back to the edge of the table, surging into her so hard my balls swung forward each time, lightly bumping up against her spine as she rec-lined to her back. The brutality of my attack roused her to greater heights of lust and she squirmed in a masochistic torment, flailed her legs about my head as if she wanted me to drive my cock through her, right up to her throat. I grabbed her thighs and forced them down alongside my own so that they angled toward the ground.

"Hold still," I gritted, then shoved my hands under the cheeks of her behind a second time, pulled her ass up off the table so that her hips were the highest point of her body and hammered into her vagina in a tornado of mindless lust.

A guttural cry erupted from her throat, was followed by gasps of inarticulate sounds which gradually evolved into understandable words; filthy, obscene words that were her effort to express what she felt but which could never be accurately expressed.

In a whirlwind of stifling, throat-clutching lust I shifted my hands from her ass to her hip bones and leaned backward, hoisting her up from the table. Her legs hung down on either side, her torso arched out and away, arms spread like one crucified in a horizontal position. Her head lolled backward, her hair streamed down, but in a moment she was bending her legs, then throwing them straight, in tempo with my savage thrusts, trying the impossible of getting more of my rampaging cock up in her belly.

I orgasmed before she did, though only seconds before. I barely managed to get her back on the table when my balls exploded and my prick shattered into a million tiny particles of sweet pain. I pitched forward onto her, held in the cradle of the soft thighs she clamped about my waist while my spasming glands pumped heavy loads of hot, thick goo into her cunt.

A sound like the death cry wailed from her full lips, a massive quaking originating from deep inside her plump, naked body shook her from head to toe as she spent her hot female juices in spastic flushes that drenched my disgorging prick. She caught my face in her hands, thrust her tongue far into my throat as the thunder inside us continued to boom.

We held this fleshy double coupling till the torrents of our emotions eased and we could breathe normally again.

It had been a most satisfying fuck.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I pulled myself up off her and straight ened as her thighs released me. But there was no hurry, nor was I in any mood to hurry. I'd spent too many months dreaming of thoroughly fucking this girl to be content with a single shag and then walk off. So she lay there comfortably on the table, hands behind her head, thighs pointing skyward, her calves crossed under my chest and I stood close against her, so close our loins' hairs entwined wetly, my cock ensconced in her belly and soaking deliciously in the mixture of our lust juices.

"You win the prize for accomplishment," Nazera smiled warmly. "I've never been so wonderfully fucked." She stretched luxuriously. "Is that the way you will make love to Kleyr?"

I grinned wryly. "I'll probably never make love to Kleyr."

"Oh, I don't know," she mused mysteriously. "If you agree to meet me here at the Emir's frolics from time to time I could always slip a bit of ploznen in her wine."

Ploznen was the colorless, tasteless extract of a small yellow berry which grows in the mountains surrounding Tabriz and used in abundance by sultans with large harems who find their sexual prowess waning, though it works with equal effect as a powerful erotic stimulant on both men and women. I had never found need for the stuff, myself, and had heard that sometimes the person using it underwent a sexual experience as though in a dream.

"Yeneen will help if necessary," Nazera continued. "We've discussed it-giving Kleyr ploznen for you, I mean. We'd both like to see her get a rousing fucking because she doesn't know what she's missing. Otherwise, without the ploznen, you might be able to fuck her when she comes to one of the frolics with the Emir."

"Kleyr comes here?" I was stunned. Suddenly my face burned and "She does, but before you explode with jealousy, she never takes part in any of the festivities."

"You mean-?"

"That's exactly what I mean. Nobody touches Kleyr when she visits the garden. She doesn't screw around with anybody. But if the two of you accidentally showed up here some afternoon you could try, I suppose." The hint of a teasing challenge shaded her tone, as if she were daring me to force my attentions on the girl with jade green eyes and flame colored hair. Then a comment of the Emir's popped into my mind. He had told me he knew that sight of the sex act was not odious to Kleyr.

Here in this garden was probably where she'd become accustomed to it.

"But why does she come here at all?" I demanded.

Nazera didn't answer at once. She was busy squirming her bottom against my loins in such a manner that my prick moved about her internal organs with tingling pleasure.

"Mercy but that feels good," she sighed. "It's fabulous." Then, "I suppose she comes here because she enjoys watching others do it. She also claims it's very healthful for the skin to go naked in the sunlight."

"Does she wear a mask?"

"No, but usually she has that little harp of hers along and picks on it."

I shook my head, trying to collect my wits. Things seemed to be happening too fast for me again; had been happening with increasing speed since the Emir had adopted me last night. In spite of my lustful coupling with the succulent Nazera at the moment, prospects of Kleyr showing up at one of these frolics some afternoon thrilled me all the way to the core.

Nazera un-crossed her calves and lowered her legs to the ground. "Are we going to do it again?"

"We certainly are," I grinned. This girl was really something. "But let's do it on the grass this time."

She shoved herself upright, watched intently as I drew my prick from her belly, then grunted explosively.

"God," she muttered. "I suddenly feel hollow." She remained in place a moment, hairs bordering the lips of her vagina festooned with droplets of semen, then stood down, squeezing her plump legs together in an effort to halt the flow of pearly yang creeping toward her knees.

At that moment a wave of delighted laughter, applause and excited shouts came from the direction I'd left the Emir at the table.

"I'll bet that's the dwarf slave dealer and his wolfhound the Emir had come from the market to perform for us this afternoon," Nazera said somewhat dejectedly, yet with a note of eagerness in her tone. "The wolfhound is supposed to rut a sheep and I want to watch." She cast a wistful glance at my prick. "But I also want more of that."

"Why not have both? We're not pressed for time, so we'll watch the wolfhound and sheep, then continue." I waited till she drew the mask over her face, then we moved through the shrubbery and stopped at the far edge to stand watching the scene on the far side of the swimming pool.

Everyone was crowded into a semi-circle behind the Emir, and in front of him stood a squat little man not over four feet tall, holding a sheep on a leash. Near the man a gray, fierce looking wolfhound squatted on his haunches, tongue hanging out and switching his tail anxiously.

Nazera and I could hear the reedy, piping voice of the dwarf, though were unable to distinguish what he was saying to the Emir. From what Weelel had told me about this little man, and his beast that was trained to fuck any animal smelling of a certain scent, it wasn't necessary to hear. The dwarf's actions spoke well enough.

The gathering grew quiet when he extracted a vial from his pocket and shook a few drops of its contents on the sheep, then untied the leash from the animal's neck.

The wolfhound, nose twitching with excitement, great fangs bared, was on the move before the sheep was free. A mighty growl rumbled from his throat. The sheep froze in its tracks, paralyzed with terror. The dog ceased to growl, the sheep took heart and made as if to run, but froze, motionless, when the dog growled again.

Unexpectedly, and to my surprise, I found the scene disgusting, though apparently I was alone in this. The others present, including Nazera, watched avidly.

"I'm going for a dip in the pool," I told her. "I'll be back when it's over."

The swimming pool was between us and the crowd gathered about the animals, but I had noticed no one in it. Nor did I see anyone as I raced toward the water. Only after I had launched into a dive did I see the wavering image of some person swimming in the direction of my dive under the surface. By then it was too late to stop. I bumped the person's hip with mine as I plunged under. I surfaced immediately, intending to apologize, and found myself staring into the jade green eyes of the lovely Kleyr.

"You careless oaf!" she began heatedly, then recognized me. Her surprise was no less than mine. "What-what are you doing here, Erak?" It was the most civil tone she'd used on me in some time.

"Waiting for you," I lied, suddenly realizing she was the surprise Nur-es-Samad said he might have waiting for me after I satisfied myself with Nazera. I was far from satisfied, with Nazera or any other woman. My single bout with Yuddus' plump wife had only whetted my appetite.

"You couldn't have been waiting for me," Kleyr said, green eyes growing suspicious, and that icy quality I knew so well edging into her voice. "No one but Nur knew I might be coming here this afternoon, and even I wasn't sure till a few minutes ago."

I decided to change the subject. "Why do you dislike me so much, Kleyr? When we first met I was sure we were going to be good friends."

She dropped her gaze, refusing to look at me, turned in the shoulder deep water and started to go. But I stopped her, under the surface grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. The feel of her warm naked flesh against me in contrast with the coolness of the water caused my prick to ache like an angry tooth.

"Erak! Turn me loose!" She tried to jerk free but I held her close, an arm about her waist.

I forgot about the group gathered around the Emir to watch the dwarf's wolfhound screw the sheep. I forgot that Nazera was waiting. I forgot about everything but this fair skinned goddess with flaming red hair whose naked body squirmed to break free of my grip as I worked us through the water toward the edge of the pool where no other eyes could see us.

"Shut up," I told her roughly, pressing her back against the stone wall. We were still in shoulder deep water, but this was no disadvantage. "You haven't answered my question. Why do you dislike me so much?" My free hand found her thighs clamped tightly together, but there was no way she could protect that part of her vagina not between her thighs.

"I said, turn me loose!" she spat.

"That's no answer," I grinned at her, our faces an inch apart, my body pressing her into the wall behind. She gasped sharply at my finger entering the top of her cleft.

I dipped my head, caught her mouth with mine. Her lips were stiff and unresponsive as a marble statue's till I forced my tongue between them and began rubbing her clitoris gently with my finger. Suddenly she sagged against the wall, all resistance gone, and returned the kiss with fiery enthusiasm. Her red -haired straddle was hot to the touch as I pushed a knee between her thighs, spread them and began a delicate exploration of her cunt, remembering the challenge in her eyes the night before, when she'd danced naked at my couch, her pussy an inch from my face.

"What if Yuddus finds out?" she whispered.

The question all but floored me. I stared at her. "What's that son of a bitch got to do with this?" I demanded. My exploring finger found her cuntal opening.

"Nothing at all, only-"

Unintentionally I thrust a finger into her vagina with ruthless force. She tensed, a strangled cry of intense pain burst from her lips, an unspeakable terror came into her eyes. The next instant her fist caught me with a solid backhand wallop in the temple and she wrenched her hips free-but not before I felt the tender, sensitive flesh of her vulva give way completely.

I stood silently cursing myself for ten thousand kinds of stupid fool as she clambered from the pool, thinking hers was the first maidenhead I'd ever gotten under the water. And with a finger, at that. I felt like a simpleton over the thoughtless act of thrusting my finger into her so roughly. I hadn't been thinking. Her question concerning Yuddus had shaken me for a moment. I'd suspected she was virgin-but she wasn't any longer. Technically, at least.

"Hello there," a sultry feminine voice said from behind me. I turned to see Yeneen, the petite dancing girl I'd spent most of the night with, climbing down into the water, an eager expression on her face. "Nazera is leaving with Kleyr and sent me to keep you company."

"Why is Nazera leaving?"

"To talk with Kleyr, or so she said."

"About what?"

"Yuddus, I suppose. He is developing a very bad odor about the palace these days and Kleyr spends a lot of time with him."

"But Kleyr and Yuddus are cousins," I said. "There's nothing wrong with them being together."

"Well-" She poked her tongue at me. "Nazera didn't ask me to join you so we could review court gossip. I didn't know you were here till I saw you and Kleyr in the water." She giggled merrily. "She wouldn't let you have it, would she?"

I shook my head and she continued, swimming toward me.

"Perhaps I can be of help to the future Emir of Tabriz in this matter of Kleyr," she said mysteriously. "If the future Emir thinks he might return the favor by spending the entire night, from dusk to dawn, in my bedroom sometime."

"Agreed." I grinned, holding out my hands to support her as she reached me and sensing she was about to make me the same proposition the plump Nazera had. "How will you help? With ploznen?"

"I see Nazera has already talked to you on the subject. But Kleyr won't resist you then. When the effects of the ploznen wear off she'll think whatever you do to her happened in a dream."

"Just let me know when Kleyr gets the ploznen," I told her. "That's all I ask."

We swam back to the ladder she had used in entering the water. Several times my hands touched one of her bursting-ripe breasts. She looked at me, soft features catching a glint of the sun, and cupped a breast in her palm.

"Would you like to nurse these?" she asked. "We enjoyed it so much last night-"

I leaned forward, kissed her and we slammed together under the water, causing small waves to flow from us in circles as our bodies moved in contact. Her tongue peeped forth into my mouth like a silken pink little fish.

"I'll nurse another time," I said above the sudden roaring in my ears.

Her hand ran down and over my naked buttocks, then came around to caress the bulk of my genitals. Her searching fingers sent pin prickles of fire over my body, rapidly increasing the pressure amassed by my encounter with Kleyr.

We both held on to the ladder and I ran my free hand down her back. For all its smallness, her back was strong and supple. I stroked her buttocks, wet and satiny, firmly peaked and completely naked. I brought my hand up around her body and cuddled the taut fruit of her left breast, fondling the warm flesh and rolling the tip of the nipple between thumb and forefinger.

I kissed her again and saw the deep sexual hunger in her eyes, felt her press her body harder against me.

With great care her thistle-down fingers traced the contours of my cock, flint-hard and throbbing, then drifted farther down, ranging over my scrotum with a gossamer touch.

"Do we do it here?" she breathed hotly against my lips. "In the water?"

"What's matters if anyone sees us?" I asked. "Do you mind?"

She shook her head. "Anyway, they're all watching the dwarf's dog molest that poor sheep."

I could see her brown body floating free in the crystal clearness of the pool, its outlines distorted by the water. I ran my hands over it; the waist, the hips, the matchless globes of her buttocks, between her thighs, trailing my fingers along their insides and in the folds of her vagina, relishing the wetly soft brush of her black fleece, savoring each foretaste of the raptures to come by tracing my fingertips through the smoldering little valley.

"Hurry," she pleaded weakly. "I've been dying for more ever since you left my bed last night."

"Hold on to the ladder," I told her.

She released me, seized the ladder with both hands and I drifted free, worked around till I faced her from behind, hands on her shoulders for support and my body pressed against her bare flesh. Then I reached above her, with one hand gripped a rung of the ladder, and pushed my knees against the backs of her legs so that she raised them and spread them apart. Our position in the water was then exactly as if I'd been seated in a chair and Yeneen seated on my lap, her back to me.

She braced herself with her feet on a lower rung and held steady, gripping the ladder with both hands.

During this maneuver she worked away from my lap and I released my grip, floated free but with my cock angled lightly along the cleavage of her buttocks. We maintained our sitting position, only now Yeneen's widely spread legs were straight out in front.

The water buoyed me, lifted me up toward her, and with both hands I reached forward and down between her thighs, searching within the shielding bristles of her straddle, inching my fingers along the sensitive flesh until I found the lips of her vagina.

Carefully I parted these lips that were quivering and excitingly hot despite the cool water, and allowed the buoyancy to raise me until, with fingers and cooperative hips, I stationed the nub of my blunt instrument against her vulval sphincter.

Yeneen uttered a tortured moan of passion at this contact, which I was careful not to break as I again reached for the ladder, gripped the rung in my left hand, circled her waist with my right arm and pressed her down, wriggling my hips jerkily, hunching upward repeatedly, bursting through the hot ring of her flesh, and kept pressing and hunching as I bored up and up.

My feet sought and found purchase beside hers on the rung and wavelets around us grew larger from the aggressive pistoning of my cock deeper and deeper into the famished regions of her body. The water rose and fell around us by the time I attained complete penetration and I fucked her with rhythmic regularity, feeling the clinging, sucking heat of her vagina contrasting pleasantly with the water's lower temperature.

Yeneen began a responsive action of her own, gliding smartly down the impaling up-thrust and, before long, I found it possible to release my grip on the ladder for short periods, grab luscious handfuls of breast and belly flesh or probe my fingers about the coupling, front and rear.

I could hear her babbling incoherently in her passion, the ebb and flow of the words not unlike the spastic mouthings one might hear from the cheerfully insane.

"Erak," she whined. "It's so good, so good."

I strove to drive my prick higher into her cunt, our genitals growing hotter by the minute from lustful friction. I drove my loins against the underside of her thighs and buttocks, getting feminine squeaks with each plunging stroke. The water was thrashed into glassy bubbles that rocked away on the wavelets as they disappeared.

Yeneen squirmed her greedy cunt frantically about the base of my cock at each plunge, her face toward the sky, sobbing my name. For seconds at a time I'd stop fucking and leave my swollen, suffering prick up in the tremulous juiciness of her cunt, letting her quiver on it, sending pleasure-shocks through my flesh each time she moved.

I discovered that by removing my feet from the ladder I could also let go with my hand and lie back in the water, a lush teat in each hand while she bobbed up and down, doing all the work and wailing her delight at having greater command over her approach to rapture. But when I felt the orgasm inside me swelling to explode I seized her flesh above the hips and slammed into her cunt without mercy, jolting from her lips tiny barks and yelps of ecstasy about to go crazy.

I was clutching her thus when the sweet agony of her climax thundered on her to rampage through her small body while she beat the water around us into foam, shrieking anew with each hot gush of her spending juices. Convulsing muscles inside her belly munched madly on my prick, which churned into her savagely now, spurred by brutal need.

My prick ballooned to the size of ten, mad bliss from the ballooning a tremendous, awesome wonder enhanced by the silent explosion in my loins. A billion tiny darts of stunningly delicious torture shot through me as blessed relief geysered from my prick into the hot confines of her quaking belly.

A massive, short lived quiver enveloped us both, and then it was over.

She sighed rapturously, cunt muscles nipping at my glans as I withdrew my prick from her belly, and spoke over her shoulder.

"We're not finished, are we? Alba is in my rooms."

"Who?" She didn't know it, but I wasn't near finished.

"Alba, the girl I told you about last night; the one partial to anal-coitus. If we go there now you can fuck her. I'd like to watch."

It goes without saying that I was interested. In my opinion there is nothing like a good piece of back door stuff to hone a man's sexual edge, though mine had never needed sharpening.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I remember yeneen mentioning alba on several occasions. How she would handle a cock the size of mine in her backside I didn't know, but I was willing to find out. Most women I'd ever had anal-coitus with had found my size a bit painful to accommodate, at first anyway, yet if this Alba could do so comfortably she was a prize indeed. Especially if she enjoyed it.

"Very well," I said to Yeneen. "We go to your rooms."

The group gathered about the dwarf's exhibition where the wolfhound apparently was just finishing another rut on the bleating, terrified sheep, hardly noticed us when we got into our clothes and left the garden. I glanced around for Kleyr and Nazera, but they were nowhere to be seen. If the Emir noticed my absence later, he'd understand my leaving when I explained the cause for it.

"And you say Alba is anxious to meet me?" I asked Yeneen on the way to her rooms.

"As I told you last night, she mentions it every time we see each other." She poked me playfully in the ribs. "She's heard from other women in the palace, including me, what a walloper hangs between your legs."

"Alba must be a lot of woman."

She was. Where Yeneen was petite to the point of being tiny, Alba was big. Not fat or overly muscular, but a tall, well proportioned, beautifully formed Nubian girl with a wide frame.

Her facial features were a soft and lovely combination of large intelligent eyes and a tantalizing, full-lipped mouth. She was asleep when Yeneen and I arrived, stretched on her back on a couch near a table by the window. Obviously she had finished bathing only shortly before, for drops of water on her ebony skin glistened in the sunlight coming through the window. The towel that had been lying across her hips had slipped to the floor to expose a broad triangle of pitch black hair at the juncture of her thighs. Her breasts were huge and full, and slightly splayed because of her position. When Yeneen nudged her awake her eyes lit with gladsome surprise at sight of us standing beside the couch.

"Oh, hello," she smiled warmly at me and sat up. The move shifted the weight of her breasts so that they moved together nicely, causing that old familiar feeling to stir in my loins. She looked at Yeneen. "So you finally enticed him to come."

"And I get to watch," the other girl squealed in her excitement. "He's ready, too. Just look." She pointed to my prick, which pushed forth against my tunic.

"So am I ready," Alba said, getting to her feet and stepping to me, her gladsome smile growing.

I grabbed her and kissed her hard. She opened her mouth under pressure of mine and, squirming against me, began undoing my tunic.

"I can't wait any longer," she breathed raggedly. "I've been waiting so long for this."

I jerked off my garments and Alba stood there shaking with eagerness as Yeneen frisked about the room in a frenzy of excitement.

Alba turned slowly for me, moving her limbs in an eager pirouette, showing off the most exaggerated curves of her highly sensuous body.

"We'll do it in any position you want," she said, falling into my arms again and stroking my penis from tip to base. "Either with you between my legs as you would screw a woman normally, or with me lying on my stomach on the bed, or with me on my hands and knees."

I kissed her ear and quivered from the feel of her lovely black nakedness against me.

"You can lay on your stomach," I told her. "You have the most beautiful bottom in the world."

"Oooh, darling Erak. How gallant you are. Do you really like to look at it." She broke away from me and turned her back coquettishly.

I looked down at her bottom. It was perfect; plenty of flesh but not too much, slightly oval shaped with the buttocks billowing out, smooth and firm from her small waist.

I moved up behind her, so that my penis pressed up along the crack between her buttocks. I put my hand under her armpits and held a bulbous breast in each hand. She pushed her behind back at me and felt behind for me as she rested her head back against my shoulder.

"It's so beautiful I am anxious to possess the little treasure in its center and imagine myself king of the universe."

She laughed breathlessly. "What a poet you are. And I am anxious also. It is whispered about the palace that you are the most fabulous lover in all the land."

"Do you get pleasure from anal-coitus?"

"Much pleasure, Erak. Much, much pleasure."

I pressed hard against her back. Her lush posterior was just as delightful as her front. It didn't matter if I had both, but I had come here for only one. I pushed her toward the couch and she put her hands around behind my back, pushing my buttocks at her as if she were propelling us both in our movement.

From the table beside the couch she took a small container of perfumed olive oil of the sort women like to use on their complexion.

"Use some of this," she said. "It's been a long time since I've entertained such a wonderful fellow the size of yours. Is this the position that pleases you?"

She climbed on the couch and lay on her stomach, holding her legs loosely and pressing them into the coverlet, grunting in expectation.

"It pleases me very much," I replied.

I knelt over her and pulled her buttocks apart with my thumbs as if I were separating the halves of a peach. Between was that black, puckered, very bald looking ring, seeming so tiny that it was hardly possible to believe my battering-ram could force its way in.

I took the oil and gently massaged with it, gently tickling her tender spot with my fingers. She wriggled so that her buttocks tensed about my fingers and held them in a light grip.

"Oh hurry, darling Erak," she said, her voice muffled by the coverlet into which she was pressing her face to control her passion.

She was slippery from the oil and I pushed my index finger at her. Her flesh gave without much difficulty and my finger slipped in and was held. My fingertip found soft, loose depths and I waggled the finger around a little and then pushed in another.

Alba pressed her hips into the bed, squealing.

"Mercy Erak. Don't torment me."

I glanced down at my prick. It was red and angry and hungry looking; seemed famished to delve in between those two black moons of buttocks which would cushion my hips royally while my ramrod drove into dark, mysterious depths that would caress and cling.

I rolled my foreskin back as far as possible and smeared some of the perfumed oil on it.

"Open your legs," I said to her, aware of Yeneen kneeling beside the couch, breathing heavily.

Alba, as if she too were hungry and opening her mouth for food, spread her legs in a large, obtuse-angle V, pressing her legs hard and quiveringly into the couch. She loosed all buttock-tension and lay there, mouth open and with bated breath, waiting for my stiff entry.

I levelled myself over her, aimed between her cheeks as I stretched out on her, feeling at first the gentle brushing of our skins from chest to loins as I positioned myself and then the full, hot weight of flesh against flesh as I sank heavily on her body.

My penis grazed between her buttocks, which she kept free of tension, biting her lips and gritting her teeth in her anxiety. The head of my prick found the little resilient spot and pressed. Alba jerked smally and then relaxed again, grimacing with passion, and I felt a pressure around my glans, a pressure that squeezed it in a tight, clam-like grip.

"That's it!" she gasped. "It's in! It's in!"

I pressed with more force, embedding my prick gradually and with relentless progress into the depths of her rectum. She groaned out a long sob of passion that was formless till it managed to transform itself into a stifled: "Daaaaahling!"

My cock was pinched and contracted in the hidden recesses of her asshole. It felt as if coals were being squeezed out of it, as if it were being squeezed into little sections, each with its own glowing flame.

I groaned from the tight excruciating excitement it caused me and put my arms around and under her, grasping her huge breasts, flattened against the bed, and began to knead and pull at them.

Alba vented a quick little scream and I felt her undulating under me, her buttocks rising and falling, wriggling and squirming against the hairy flesh of my loins, squeezing and relaxing, then squeezing again in a breath choking sensation.

I rose and fell on her in long, deep strokes, pushing right up in a tearing invasion of her posterior, holding and rubbing my loins hard against her undulating buttocks. My mouth opened of its own accord and I heard my breath bark out. Under me, muffled in the coverlet, Alba's cries of passion grew more numerous and I tightened my grip on her breasts, which seemed to expand and resist me.

Up and down, in and out I bored into her, feeling my prick rasp against the warm walls of her fleshy channel. I wanted still more of her and, without coming out of her, struggled up onto my knees and pulled her up with me so that she knelt with her buttocks in an arc toward me.

Her body curved away from me, her head still resting on the coverlet. She arched her back like an angry cat and attacked with her buttocks in all directions in mad abandon. I heard her lustful groans, whining like a crazy woman's, and watched, fascinated passionately, as my come-bloated cock pistoned energetically into her anus.

I caught her buttocks in each hand and pinched at the taut flesh, holding it in handfuls, squeezing it furiously as I drove in, wanting to communicate to her the delicious ecstasy in which I labored.

I hammered in and then waggled my hips around against her stretched and naked ass, feeling the warmth of friction grow greater between us. I crushed in without difficulty right up to the hilt as I pulled at her buttocks with both hands. I spread the cheeks of her ass wider and put my thumbs on either side of my plunging prick and heard her answering shriek. Then she began waving her ass in a wild erotic rhythm, more abandoned than ever.

Ramming in, I was caught on a rhythmic tide of movement in which there seemed to be no thought, no mind, only mad, orgastic movement and loin-searing sensations.

My groans and gasps came with measured regularity now and every in-stroke pulled breath from my mouth. The end of my cock ached with a wondrous sweet pain so exquisite I knew it soon must shatter. I leaned forward, grasped her small waist, which seemed fragile under the voluptuous flair of her hips. I clutched it on either side, gripped it fiercely, reveling in the feel of the tight flesh and a strange power I felt in having her body completely at my command. I pressed her waist down against the bed, forcing it to yield so that her ass rose up toward the ceiling, and pushed out toward me even more. I drew far back and slammed into her with shattering force so that her head grazed forward on the coverlet. I repeated the act, shattered into her again, tore into her brutally, savagely, and heard her cry out for more. As I drove in I pulled her waist toward me so that her stretched, round buttocks crushed back to meet my thrust and helped with a fraction deeper entry.

Then I varied my stroke, giving short, quick little thrusts in a series and after a few moments reverting to long slow drives. My reward was a fresh gasp and groan from her open mouth with each variation of pressure and movement.

"Gah! Gah! I'm coming!"

I heard her wailing shriek and gnashed my teeth at the ceiling in the brutal ecstasy of merciless fucking.

I hurried myself toward a climax; tensed my loins and thighs and felt a knot of sensation tighten and complicate in my genitals.

She gave several short, desperate gasps and rammed back against my invading prick as if I couldn't penetrate her deep enough and then she gave out a long, rending scream of lust on the rampage that faded slowly to choked sobs that soon converted into impassioned whimpers.

The storm gathered swiftly in my jouncing balls as I heaved and bucked over her buttocks, which still undulated around my rigid, plundering meat. I ground my teeth in helpless submission as my orgasm moved to overcome me. I forced her waist down farther toward the couch as the blissful explosion quivered closer, quaking and tumulting through my whole body so that even my toes tingled with rapture. It swirled and spun in my genitals, growing into a great, inexorable force. And with a mighty, scalding, slippery out-gushing it spiraled like a sharp pain through my pounding rod and surged forth into the fleshy tube of her bowels.

I collapsed over her in an ecstatic daze and we remained in this position, breathing heavily, till the storm subsided.

When reality came into sharp focus Yeneen stood beside the couch, a cup of wine in each hand, her dark eyes round with awe.

"Mercy," she said. "That was a wild fuck if ever there was a wild fuck. Here. Drink this wine-if you're able."

I pushed myself upright off Alba's folded body and eased rearward, pulling my prick out of her shit chute with a slurping sound.

She rolled to her side, then sat up, eyes glazed with dreamy contentment, and the three of us sat on the couch, drinking the wine.

CHAPTER NINE

After I returned from washing up Yeneen brought more wine and we drank that also, talking quietly about nothing in particular until the petite dancer said, hot eyes on my half wilted cock:

"I would like to have some more of that now."

"I wish I could take it up front as you do," Alba replied.

Both Yeneen and I looked at her in surprise.

"You mean you can't?" I asked. My prick perked up his head, scenting a virgin, even though the prospects of the Nubian girl being one were somehow flabbergasting.

"I mean I haven't," she said. "Not since the first time, when I was twelve. My cousin did it to me and it hurt terribly. Ever since then I've stuck to anal-coitus because of fear of more pain-until now. With you, Erak, the fear of pain seems to have fled."

Yeneen was no less dumbfounded than I by this unexpected revelation, and was about to voice her surprise when a giant eunuch appeared in the doorway.

"Sultana Nazera requests your presence in her chambers," he said to her with a low bow.

"Do you know for what reason?" Yeneen asked, plainly annoyed by the summons.

"I do not, Madame," the eunuch answered. "She only asked that you hasten to her chambers forthwith."

"Please don't go till I get back, Erak," she said to me, moving toward the door. "I'll return as quickly as possible. You've got something I still want a lot more of."

I wasn't going anywhere and told her so not with Alba sitting there naked and wanting my rod between her legs.

"Let's go into the bedroom," I said to her after Yeneen and the eunuch had departed. In seconds we were there.

I laid down on the bed beside her and kissed her neck.

"You're so big," she whispered, fingers trembling on my cock.

"Don't worry about the pain," I told her. "You've grown considerably since you were twelve. Nature takes care of those things."

I ran my lips all around her neck and put my tongue in her ear till she shivered with sensation and circled my neck with her arms.

For a few seconds I kneaded her buttocks till she moaned with pleasure and rolled to her back. Then I slithered over onto her body.

The inexplicable joy of feeling that soft black flesh meet mine at so many points at once! It was as if she were gently kissing me all over. Oh, the delight of having her lovely body submit to me, to join with me in an orgy of heart-pounding pleasure.

For several seconds I just lay on her, rubbing her fleshy lower belly, grating my chest against the smooth silk of her breasts, moistening her lips with my tongue, licking her closed eyelids, stroking her hair as I worked my loins into an unendurable state of dynamic tension.

"If you like anal-coitus," I told her, "you're going to like this ten times more."

In answer she gripped me with her supple arms and hugged me tight, murmuring, "Erak! Oh, Erak!"

I slipped my hand down between our bodies, hair of mine on one side, the glossy black flesh of hers on the other. I found her vagina and moved down for the entry.

Alba's arms tightened around me in frightened anticipation, her legs limply apart.

My cudgel slipped on the moisture of her thighs, encountered the soft, giving wetness of her, and then, with a gasp from us both, moved into the opening. Inside my chest was a sudden rush of relief at discovering she was larger than she thought.

I thrust smoothly forward to a tighter region and Alba uttered a stifled scream and jerked her hips backward. But I followed them with my loins and jogged gently on her, probing in no further, moving in and out just an inch or so while she became accustomed to the pressure.

Gradually she relaxed and her thighs went limp again on either side of my hips. I put my hands under my chest, between our bodies, and squeezed her breasts hard and she drew in her breath with a swoosh, and wriggled invitingly down in the region where I was waiting to advance.

I flexed my hips in a little more and Alba gasped and drew back again.

"Does it really hurt that much?" I asked.

She gave me a timorous smile and shook her head. "I can't be sure it all isn't only in my mind." She untensed again and I screwed my loins in little circular motions on hers, pushing no further at the time.

I turned her face, which was pressing sideways into the bed, and kissed her, slipping my tongue into her mouth, licking the corners of her lips till she responded and thrust the tip of her tongue at mine.

I fucked her gently, so very gently, moving in a fraction of a centimeter at a time. Every time I moved in she tensed and I'd move no farther for a while.

I found it excruciating, much more so than with Weelel earlier in the day, not to be able to plunge right up her to the very hilt, but it also inflicted on me a fresh innovation, a self-torture which I found exquisite.

A considerable heat had been generated between our bodies and I saw that little beads of perspiration were bursting forth passionately on her forehead. I slid my hands up the sides of her body, lingering over the bevels of her breasts, which oozed out from under me on either side. I moved my hands under her armpits and found them sweaty also. She was at the fever pitch of animal heat.

I knew I would shoot into her soon because I was having trouble keeping my thoughts coherent.

A thin prickling sensation blossomed in the head of my cock, and seemed of its own accord to be bursting up and up and it was only when she grunted sharply in pain did I realize I was thrusting with greater and greater force. This time I couldn't slow down, couldn't stop and wait for her to recover, but held her upper arms as I wriggled my hips in closer.

"My belly! My loins are on fire," she cried, biting her lips and gritting her teeth. And, suddenly, my aching cock was delving deeper and meeting less resistance on its journey through the hot passage between her thighs.

I was in a delirium of lust. I moved my hands under her ass, pushed my fingers right around, crushing into that tightly grasping pipeline where but recently my prick had plundered like a ravening stallion's. I squeezed her buttocks in a wild frenzy of sensuality, and all the time the fire was growing, forcing oaths and obscenities from my mouth. My rod had nearly disappeared into her body now. There was but little left to go. By the time my orgasm struck my penis would be completely buried in her panting cunt. I pulled her thighs high and forced them back against her shoulders to facilitate the final fraction.

"More!" she cried desperately. "Fuck harder!"

Her words spurred me into an action as if I'd been stung squarely on the rim of my asshole by a large hornet. My loins were aflame. My prick was swollen to bursting and marauding inside her. It felt ready to shatter inside her juicy Nubian womb. My belly heaved in and out with such vigor it would have given an older man a heart attack, my hands rifled her bottom, pinching it, grabbing it in paroxysms of lust, digging at her while she squirmed within my grasp.

I was conscious that my lips formed odd shapes, but no sounds came out except struggles for breath. Any second now I'd be coming. I rammed smack into her, burying my staff so deep the force of my hunchings made her squeal. In my belly there was a churning of fiery sensation, the pure essence of fiery sensation. Everything became fuzzy. My senses swam dizzily. The heat and solid fury of my fucking was everything but dazed impressions of this beautiful black body giving me this ecstasy from her lovely passionate flesh.

From the depths of my soul came a long-drawn, choking sob slowly followed by the long-drawn loin-convulsing sucking of my fluid. I heard myself crying her name through my groaning. I lurched up from her except for my loins, saw the white pale of my cock pistoning frantically in and out of her black cunt. I gripped her waist above the hips and squeezed it with more and more force as the sensation exploded inside me, shattered out, spewed into her as I jerked uncontrollably until I slipped exhaustedly down onto the warmth of her flesh once more to lie there bucking and hunching like a spastic with the itch.

I came out of the heavily breathing coma I'd fallen into slowly and wiggled my hips with small undulations, stirring my prick amongst her hidden regions, draining the last delicious dregs from my orgasm. I rolled off her at last, my penis hot and tender and still hard, realizing that she had not climaxed at all.

"You didn't come," I said to her.

She gave an intimate feminine chuckle and extended a hand to wrap her fingers around my swollen meat.

"Not quite, but almost. Don't worry. I'll come next time."

"But why didn't you?" To me this was a vast curiosity. I couldn't remember having ever fucked a woman who didn't orgasm.

"Well-first there was the getting rid of my fear and a bit of pain." Her intimate chuckle became warm laughter. "Then I was busy watching and helping you."

"And there was neither pain nor fear toward the end?"

"No, Erak. None whatsoever of either." She looked down at the cock she held in her hand as if it were some sort of rare and precious animal.

"Go ahead," I said. "Caress it if you like."

She obeyed eagerly, drawing her fingers gently over the smooth white skin.

Despite the satisfying fuck she'd just provided me with I felt swirls of lust collide in my testicles. The storm they brewed pervaded the corridors and antechambers of my entire being. I flexed my hips against the side of her thigh, then crossed one ankle over the other, turning my body into an arch. My heart gathered speed, pounded madly once more.

My response to her touch excited Alba and she became even more impassioned. Her nostrils flared like a mare's in heat and she licked her lips avidly, eyes sparkling.

I began to undulate my hips, unable to stem my noisy breathing. I leaned my head over onto her, laying it against her breasts, brushing my cheek from one to the other, sucking a nipple, descending the hill into the valley, climbing the opposite hill and kissing the other nipple.

Alba seemed overcome with a desire to kiss me all over in return. She swayed over and laid her head on my chest as I relaxed backward before her gentle pressure. She kissed my chest, loving my nipples with her mouth. I placed a hand on her head and pushed it downward. She let herself be pushed, let her head move down over me, her lips moistly blazing a trail down over my flesh as they passed.

I could stand it no longer and caught her by the hair so roughly she gasped and pushed her face down the last few inches.

She knew exactly what I wanted. I cringed, ground my teeth as my asshole bit itself from the goodness when the heat of her wide, full-lipped mouth enveloped the head of my prick. I held my breath for what seemed an asphyxiating length of time, then let out a long, agonized groan as her lips clamped tighter and more of the shaft disappeared into her mouth.

From what seemed to be a great distance I could hear the soft, moist noises as she tenderly sucked my prick. There seemed to be no real relationship between the noises which inflamed my ears and the hot, wet lips massaging my rigid meat.

I had released her head, but now, wanting to plunge farther into the tightness of her gullet, I reached down again and forced her head toward the base. She gave a muffled cry of passion and began bobbing her head rapidly. Sight of her soft lips sliding sweetly, eagerly, up and down my white cock acted as a powerful aphrodisiac and I commenced to undulate my hips with a fury, heaving and lunging them up toward her face so that at times she appeared to have the hairy stump of a small tree protruding from her mouth.

My whole loins were one great burning urge. I watched her cheeks hollowing and bulging as she gobbled on my cudgel, her eyes opening and closing in her passion. Her slim, sleek back was presented to me, blooming abruptly into the luxury of her hips and soft, full buttocks that invited caresses, invited the pressure of another body.

I watched her buttocks. They slithered blackly one against the other, an outward sign of her inner excitement. They were smooth, lovely convexes of warm flesh.

On impulse I pulled her head sharply from my loins and her mouth came free of my penis with a spongy, sucking plop. She looked at me with her deep dark eyes half open. My prick tingled, the feel of her mouth on it needing to be replaced.

I slithered down behind her, lying along her back, and put my arms around to fondle her breast with their erect nipples. The coolness of her buttocks exaggerated the heat of my rod against them and I pressed against the soft mounds of flesh as when I'd fucked her first, biting my lips.

With my hand I reached down and explored her thighs from behind, pushing my fingers between them till I found the long petals of ultra-smooth moisture. I began to caress her once more.

Immediately she began to wriggle in a most abandoned way and in a manner that intensified my urge to get my prick sunk in the hot mystery of her belly.

I eased her over onto her face. She went wherever my hands guided. She seemed quite lost to anything but my touch.

Swaying back onto my knees I pulled her up onto hers in front of me. Her bottom rose up at me, her face was pressed into the bed within the framework of her arms.

There, like a great black cleft moon, her behind was presented to my lustful gaze. Her thighs were spread, the imaginary line between her knees forming the base of a triangle, the point of her thigh juncture where I could see the apex.

I positioned myself behind her, spread the pouting lips of her vagina with my thumbs and felt with a finger for her cuntal open on which to take aim. Then I worked my way forward on my knees, planted the knob of my cock between the hot lips of her juicy cunt. She moaned in her passion.

The moan became more concentrated as I once more eased forward, working my hips in small, circular hunches, and watched my suffering meat commence to disappear into the steamy passage of her cunt. Then, as my cock bored deeper and deeper, heat of her inflamed vagina crept along the shaft in proportion to its entry. Small babbling sounds began coming from her throat.

A moment more and my loins were pressed firmly against the taut surfaces of her buttocks, my prick ensconced to the limit in the scalding darkness of her tremulous belly.

"Is there any pain this time?" I gritted.

Her only reply was a negative whimper of lust and a barely visible shake of her head.

I grasped her hips in both hands and commenced a slow rocking fuck that pistoned my cock through her cunt with measured rhythm. Under my hands I could feel her flesh twitching. At the extremity of each inward stroke I gave an extra flick of my hips and felt her buttocks give and spread. She was breathing in gaspy gulps. Each several strokes I would thrust in to the very last fraction, leave my prick in there, tightly holding her ass against my loins while I squirmed them against her. Each time I did this she squealed in her mounting lust.

Her shoulders shook and quivered as I fucked into her, feeling the glorious sensation of her bottom sway and rotate against me. Then a massive tremor, not unlike a small earthquake, struck her and I knew she soon would be coming.

When she did orgasm a moment later, her reaction to the rapturous onslaught had something about it that was primitive and savage, so fierce and intense I found myself observing her rather than continuing to fuck my way through to my own climax. On the tail end of the massive tremor, strong, starving muscles inside her cunt attacked my buried prick with a delicious, clamping pressure and munched on it vigorously. At the same time, she sprang to all fours as her non-female, non-human squall of exploding lust rent the comparative silence of the room.

Then she became a veritable cyclone of uncontrollable ecstasy, her body wrenched, seemingly, in all directions at the same time. The best I could manage was to remain on my knees, my prick to the hilt in her convulsing cunt, and hang onto her hips with both hands. She bucked and lunged like a captured tigress fighting for freedom. Her flesh became fiercely hot, as if suddenly she were submerged into a boiling caldron. She clawed at the bed with both hands, sounds of wild, turbulent passion pouring from her lips. Her teeth clicked again and again as she struggled to survive the raging turmoil of released lust running amuck inside her. Sweat broke out all over her superb body and she began to beseech some strange Nubian god to have mercy on her.

I held her as hard against me as possible, kept her buttocks drawn back tight against my loins, but even then the furiosity of her seizure almost broke our coupling. A number of times during her wild surges forward I saw the white shaft of my rod, vividly contrasted with the black of her skin, come into view; on occasion to the point where little else but my glans remained in her seething womb. At the zenith of her upheaval she rose up on her knees, threw her head back and pawed the air, whinnying like an untamed mare. Then she fell forward, face and breasts against the bed once more, and commenced to chew on the covers in a weird display of sweet torment. The grating sounds of her gnashing teeth were strong about us when my own orgasm slugged me unexpectedly. I shouted in a delirium of victory at the explosion in my balls and fell forward along her back, pumping hot come into her spasming cunt.

When the holocaust dwindled to a lingering aftermath of tingling organs we flopped sideways, the move pulling my swollen meat from her vagina, and lay there breathing heavily, recovering.

A drowsy, golden fatigue which could only be assuaged by the complete relaxation stole over me without warning. I heard Alba whisper my name, but was already too far gone in slumber to reply. My last conscious thought was that the next woman I fucked was going to be the lovely Kleyr.

CHAPTER TEN

Alba was sound asleep, snuggled beside me, when I woke up. I eased off the bed, walked to the window and stood there studying the night sky outside. It had been late afternoon when I'd gone to sleep. Now the stars told me we'd slept almost twelve hours. Dawn would be breaking over the mountains surrounding Tabriz within an hour. I turned at a small sound behind me. Yeneen stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the glow of the candlelight in the main room.

"Don't awaken Alba," she whispered, motioning for me to join her.

I'd had nothing to eat the preceding day except the pomegranate and handful of dates I'd breakfasted on while Ita sucked my cock and my stomach growled with hunger as I followed Yeneen into the room where she'd watched me fuck Alba the afternoon before. It growled again when I saw the large tray of food on the table beside the couch.

"I thought you might be hungry after all your playing around and had this brought up," she said with a wistful glance at my penis. "Sit down and eat. I have some things to tell you." She poured me a large cup of wine.

"Like what?" I tore a roasted pheasant in half. I was famished. My stomach growled again.

"I went directly to Nazera when the eunuch came for me yesterday," she said. "We stayed there talking most of the night; me and Nazera and Kleyr. I returned here just a while ago and was about to wake you when you got up."

I looked at her at the mention of Kleyr's name.

"What kind of talk?" I asked around a mouthful of meat. It was then I noticed the glow of the little dancer's face. She seemed about ready to burst from an inner excitement to tell me something.

"Girl talk, mostly." Under her robe her breasts lifted from a quick intake of breath.

"But you have something very important to tell me, do you not?" I drank deeply from the wine and returned to the bird.

"Yes," she said. "I have." Her voice quavered with eagerness. I kept eating, waiting for her to go on. She did.

"The first thing I want to tell you is that you don't have to worry about Yuddus causing you any trouble. Last night the Emir's personal bodyguard caught two professional assassins attempting to enter the palace. Under torture they confessed Yuddus had hired them to kill you. Yuddus was placed in the dungeon and shortly after daylight the Emir will publicly banish him from Tabriz in the palace courtyard."

I looked at her in wonder. Sonofabitch! And I'd been here asleep all the time this was taking place. "Did Nur-es-Samad mention my absence?"

She nodded. "But when I told him where you were and what you were doing he said not to disturb you; that his son was to enjoy himself."

"And what does Nazera say to this trouble her husband is in?"

"She doesn't care and besides, Yuddus isn't her husband any longer. When she learned of his treachery the Emir divorced her from Yuddus by decree at her request. She hinted she might want to join your harem."

I laughed at this. I'd be glad to have Nazera in my harem. Any man would be a fool not to feel the same. I piled bones at one end of the tray, finished the cup of wine, and reached for the second half of the pheasant.

"What did Nazera want with you yesterday afternoon?" I asked.

Now it was Yeneen's turn to laugh; a gay, merry ripple of tinkling sounds. "To help her plot against Kleyr for you. You know the three of us are very good friends, so we got together in Nazera's apartment, as we sometimes do, on the pretext of talking about you. Well, when the uproar caused by the assassins' capture and all was over, we went to Kleyr's rooms to celebrate because you were no longer in danger. Do you know why Kleyr has been so frigid and distant to you all this time?"

"No, but I'd damn sure like to." It was a question that had puzzled my brain for many an hour.

"So she could retain Yuddus' confidence in hopes of learning when he planned to act against you."

I dropped the fowl I was eating, stared at her blankly in surprise. So that was it! Suddenly I felt ashamed at the niggardly things I'd sometimes thought about Kleyr. But I'd make up for them all. I promised myself that.

"Did Kleyr tell you this?" I asked, retrieving the bird from the tray.

"She told Nazera and me both. And she told us other things, too."

"What other things?" This was getting more interesting by the heartbeat.

"She told us about your breaking her hymen in the pool yesterday and that for months she has wanted you to fuck her, but was afraid Yuddus would learn of it. Now she's also afraid it'll never happen because of the way she was forced to treat you."

My prick snapped erect. I threw down the pheasant and jumped to my feet. I hadn't dressed when I left the bed and my dong thrust forth like a hungry, one-eyed snake hunting prey. Yeneen's delighted laughter was a joy to hear.

"Are you going to her now?" she asked.

"I am."

"Then I wish Nazera and I hadn't done what we did. In her present condition Kleyr might not be a very good fuck."

I stopped at jerking on my tunic. "What is her present condition? What did you do to her?"

"Gave her a dose of ploznen in a cup of wine while we were celebrating, but it was so small a dose it may have put her to sleep instead of stimulating her sexually. Small doses do that, you know."

I couldn't suppress a chuckle. Lustful images of me fucking my flaming -haired goddess while she slept tantalized my thoughts.

"Never mind," I told the petite dancing girl. "Sleep or no sleep, Kleyr gets fucked within the hour-and by me. I'll see you and Alba later in the day."

Yeneen laughed joyously again, bounced up and down, clapping her hands in excitement as I legged it from the room.

I didn't stop to wonder why Nazera and Yeneen had given Kleyr the ploznen when Kleyr had told them she wanted to fuck me anyway-unless it was because they wanted to be absolutely certain Kleyr got screwed. And evidently they had gambled I'd rush straight to Kleyr the moment I was given this information, for when I reached her bedroom she was in no condition to resist being shagged. Nazera and Yeneen, for a fact, had plotted their little scheme well indeed. They had known a small dose of ploznen would put the red -haired girl to sleep, though Yeneen had not been entirely correct in saying it would not stimulate her sexually. It might and it might not. Such was one of the peculiar characteristics of the drug.

Kleyr lay naked and asleep on her bed when I quietly entered the room and shed my tunic. Several candles in strategic places about the room lighted the bed, and in addition to this, through a huge window nearby, silvery moonlight bathed it.

I stood looking down at the incomparable beauty before me. I thought my breath would stop. A hollow roaring sounded in my ears. I had dreamed of this moment so long, so very miserably goddam long....

But now that the time had arrived I wanted to prolong the moment of the act itself, the moment I would maneuver my prick up into her sleeping belly, just a little while longer.

I sat down on the bed and Kleyr never moved, never made a sound. She lay on her back, one leg straight, the other drawn up and leaning across it. One arm was out to the side, hand of the other resting against the ripe cushion of a breast. Her head was turned, facing me. She breathed deeply and restfully.

To test the depth of her slumber I reached out a hand, eased her drawn-up leg from off the other, exposing her cunt in all its flaming beauty. The leg fell aside and she remained motionless. Next I gently worked a finger inside the top of her cleft, searching for her clitoris. If this didn't rouse her, neither would my fucking. She still didn't move, not even af ter I massaged her clit for several minutes. Her only response came from the clit itself. Under my stroking the little passion peak grew firm and erect. I continued this caressing when I leaned toward her and captured the pink nipple of a lush breast between my lips. Her warm flesh was satiny and delicious under my tongue. Then I trailed my lips down over the softness of her tummy till I reached the point just over where my finger had been moments before.

Lightning cracked in my balls when the perfumed essence of her un-pricked cunt reached my nostrils. The roaring in my head grew to a frightening thing and I knew I must get my cock in her before too long or my reason might snap. Still, I hesitated. I wanted to experience just one more joy.

With two fingers I spread the upper lips of her pussy, gazed in rapture at the tiny clitoris throbbing with excitement an inch from my nose. I couldn't resist the urge. Besides, I didn't want to.

She yet didn't move when I lowered my pursed lips to her cunt and began tugging gently on her clit. It was slippery and elusive, tried to escape my tongue, which I wouldn't permit it to do till I desisted to preserve my own sanity.

If I did not fuck her soon I might not be able to. I feared I might become as my cock. Hard all over-like a statue. The problem was: how could I best do it? In what position could I arrange her so that I could derive the most enjoyment from the act with her in drugged sleep? Certainly she wasn't going to be of any help-unless I raised her hips some way.

This I did. With pillows. But the position was unsatisfactory because her long, shapely legs remained relaxed, on the bed. There was only one other way I could think of in my urgency and I liked it much better. I left her hips propped up, then raised her legs and crossed her ankles under my chin. By spreading my knees I managed to get close enough to go into action.

When I was ready I looked down at her pink cleft, open and inviting, bordered by the fringe of red hair. I depressed my cock, stationed the knob of it against her cuntal opening and inched forward on my knees, watching as my meat slowly disappeared into her body.

For a thought I was sure the avalanche of stormy emotions and sensations that beset me would stifle my breathing. This girl I had dreamed of fucking for so long....

Before I got my prick all the way into her vagina I knew any efforts of my trying to control myself would be pointless. I knew such an attempt was without hope. And I was right, for a fraction later blinding light stunned me, seared my skin all over. Great drops of sweat fell from my forehead. The world rocked madly. My balls felt like coals of fire. I was dying and knew it and didn't give a damn.

I could never be sure how much time elapsed between the onset of the orgasm and my return to the world of sight and sound.

Kleyr's legs were once again splayed wide on the bed and I had fallen forward atop her. But her legs quivered and jerked in little movements and under my belly I could feel the muscles of hers knot and twitch.

Sound asleep and she was having an orgasm! This was not strange, of course. It simply had not occurred to me that it might happen. Yet I was overjoyed that it did, for it had a very positive effect on the ploznen in her system.

I severed the coupling and was lying beside her, half wild with exultation that at last I had got my dick in her belly when she awakened; opened her eyes and for a long moment regarded me calmly, but as though I were some odd creature from another planet. Then recognition dawned in her green eyes and a tender smile curved her lips.

"Erak," she whispered awesomely. "What are you doing here?"

"You know very well what I'm doing here," I grinned. Then I told her what I'd just done.

"You didn't!" Her face flushed prettily, gladdening my heart.

"Oh, but I did."

"I know you did, silly." Her words blossomed into warm, happy laughter. "I'm all wet and sticky down there."

She rolled off the bed and left the room to return a couple of minutes later, mincing across the floor toward me like an angel of sensuality personified.

"Now I'm not sticky anymore," she giggled in girlish mirth as she flung herself down beside me.

My tongue clove to the roof of my parched mouth. The nearness of her naked beauty was almost beyond enduring. She glanced down at my throbbing cock.

"My," she said with an impish grin. "I never would have imagined I could accommodate a thing that size inside me."

"You enjoyed it," I told her, the pounding of my heart sounding in my ears like the roll of drums.

"I know," she murmured. "I climaxed when you did, but it all seemed to be happening in a dream."

Then I told her of Nazera and Yeneen putting ploznen in her wine, which she didn't protest over at all, and we lay for a time discussing the things that had happened concerning Yuddus, the assassins and other matters, with me relating to her all that Yeneen had said.

After a moment of quiet, with her studying my face curiously, a tender smile on her lips, she asked: "Is that once the only time we're going to make love, Erak?"

Her meaning was clear. If it hadn't been, the tremulous anxiety in her words would have betrayed it.

I reached out, put a hand behind her neck, and drew her lips to mine. She wriggled her body in close. Sparks seemed to fly from my skin.

The flesh smoothly covering the fine bones of her face was hot to my touch. There was a delicate perfume about her. Her lips were moist, open, and seemed to swallow mine. Then her tongue, smooth as rich cream, was squirming in my mouth, exploring it, teasing my own.

Along my entire body I felt the warm slender solidity of her pressing and moving lightly. The weight of her breasts protruding, the silken columns of her thighs brushing and clinging, her hips pushing warmly against my genitals all threatened to destroy my reason. I pulled my mouth from hers and she let it go reluctantly. Audible little pantings puffed from her lips as I moved down her neck, sucking and nipping the tender flesh, leaving small patterns of red marks on the velvety skin. I moved on down, bit her breasts gently, her abdomen, then returned to her neck and the red bristles of her cunt squirmed against my prick and balls furiously for assuagement of the inflamed flesh they shielded.

She lay on her side and I pushed her to her back on the bed. The subtle perfume was all around us like some ethereal vapor and her flaming red hair brushed my face as I sank into her lips once more and sucked her tongue into my mouth. She gasped desperately when my hand touched her vagina, was unable to keep her lips against mine from the sudden sensation. She dragged her head away and turned it so that her cheek lay next to the bed.

My fingers wandered through the soft wet flesh of her cunt and she grasped again and bit her lips, her hand stealing down to clasp my cock with the touch of thistle down. Slowly, inexpertly, with the awkwardness of inexperience, she began to masturbate me.

I felt her thighs moving, open widely, her crotch rose up slightly toward me, facilitating and demanding the entry of my searching fingers. I sneaked one into her vagina, followed it with another, and she threw herself against me, kissed me wildly and rubbed her lips all over and around my face.

I moved in against her, pushed against that demanding flesh, rubbed my loins on hers, drew one of my legs across her thighs.

Her lovely lips trembled and her nostrils were slightly flared, the way I'd noticed them before when she had been, or had pretended to be, angry with me. Her slim hands ran convulsively over my body. She pulled and tugged on my penis as though trying to break it off.

I caressed her, tantalized her, bringing her to a fever pitch of sexual excitement, my own enormous and growing passion a thunderous thing in my loins.

"We've got to do it now, Erak," she begged, hardly able to utter the words. "Otherwise I'll go mad."

I slithered over on top of her. She made a warm, scented cushion for my body. Her thighs opened and my hand went down between our loins. A sound of passion groaned in unison from us both when the famished bald knob of my cock kissed the wet lips of her quivering pussy. Her thighs opened wider to afford me greater access, moved back toward her shoulders to give me depth.

A low, ecstatic sob wrenched from her lips as I applied pressure, was uttered again as my glans penetrated her tight, seething ring of her inflamed flesh. The sob became a staccato of sound as my hard, starving meat commenced to maneuver its way into her belly through the rapturous portal of her steaming cunt. Tears of unspeakable joy sparkled in her green eyes, her breath came in quick, sharp pants by the time my rod had bored to the hilt in the depths of her juicy passage.

Then I began my action and her legs came down to clasp my hips, brushed and squeezed against them as I pistoned in and out of her belly, fucking her smoothly, tenderly.

Her arms moved around me, over my shoulders, down my back, to my buttocks, which she could hardly reach, pressing on them and exhorting me into her. Her legs swung down suddenly and entwined my thighs, then back up and gripped my waist.

Her head rolled from side to side in an agony of lust, her legs released me, flopped to the bed in helpless abandonment, then scissored my waist once more. Her belly, the in side surfaces of her thighs, were hot. Her crotch was hot and moist. She began to writhe in a paroxysm of lust about to vent its force and her green eyes sought mine desperately. Her mouth opened and her pink tongue came out as I ground into her with strong, deep strokes.

She began wriggling furiously, breasts jiggling, and I felt the muscles inside her cunt contract sharply around my slowly driving meat. At any moment her orgasm would be with her.

When it came it did so just as I completed another in-stroke-and the first vigorous spurt of her maiden juices flushed hotly around my cock, which I kept buried in her belly, only rolling my hips to rotate the rod inside her.

A verbal deluge of tiny whimpers and mewls rushed from her lips. Her soft featured face was drawn grimly in stark lines of harsh lust. Her breasts heaved in her struggle for air, her mouth formed odd, indefinable shapes, her hands kneaded the flesh along my rib cage and the sounds she emitted became piteous whines in a plea for mercy from the agonizing rapture of the orgasm churning through her slender frame.

Then I ceased to observe because my own culmination arrived, though I was aware that she screamed thinly from the strong out-gushing of man-seed glutting her spasming womb.

Neither of us spoke for some time after it was over, just lay there in position, making small sounds of endearment and luxuriating in the tender after-kissing.

"It's better this way," she sighed finally, brushing damp hair back on my forehead. "A million times better."

"Than how?"

"Than like I was the first time-to be fucked and think it's happening in a dream and not know who's doing the fucking." She squirmed her sweltering crotch against my cock, cooed softly, "It feels so wonderful inside me." Then her face flushed a hot pink and her green eyes took on a lustful gleam. "Let's fuck some more," she said feverishly.

"We will," I laughed softly. "But first let's rest a second."

"Poor Yuddus," she said quite irrelevantly after a moment. "I know he's a treacherous scoundrel, and banishment is cruel punishment for anyone, but the other thing the Emir plans to inflict on him is terrible-even though he deserves it, every bit, and more."

"What other thing?" I didn't know what she referred to.

"Didn't Yeneen tell you? Nur-es-Samad intends to strip him naked in the public square, let the dwarf with the wolfhound pour that scent all over him, then have the dog do it to him in the behind."

I didn't approve of such either, but said nothing. I knew the Emir was doing it to set an example before the people of what happened to traitors. I might have to take equally harsh measures some day, so I kept quiet.

Then a delicious tremor coursed through Kleyr and her cunt gulped on my cock. She caught her breath sharply.

"Erak?"

"Yes?"

"It is speculated about the palace that Nur might turn his harem over to you."

Damn! He already had and I hadn't thought of it once since he'd done so.

"With your own harem and your other women," she continued, "If he does I'll never see enough of you then."

"But you are seeing me now."

"That's right. So haven't we rested long enough?"

"Too long."

I pulled my cock out of her belly till the lips of her cunt folded hotly around the glans, then slammed it solidly home.

With so many women at my beck and call there was a lot of work to be done-and I meant to do every bit of it.

THE END
Persian Lust Song ....(78k)    by Erak-el-Rashid




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