7 comments/ 88508 views/ 12 favorites Oasis By: Enjoy. "Fuck. We are so late," Savannah flipped her cell phone closed as she and her best friend, Angelique, walked into Savannah's apartment. She threw her keys on the console table by the door and shuddered at her reflection in the foyer mirror. Certainly not the impression she wanted to make on the date she was supposed to meet in 40 minutes across town. "When are we supposed to be there?" Angelique asked, pulling her scarf and blazer off as she completely avoided her reflection; nothing good to see there. "Eight-thirty," "Yeah, we're not gonna make that, we both have to shower and change, and we all know that will take you two and a half hours to get ready—not to mention an extra fifteen minutes in which you will create an elaborate plan in case these guys end up being total freaks," Angelique jested, poking at Savannah's soft waist with her long fingernails. "Oh shut up," Savannah snapped and slapped at Angelique's hands. "I don't take that long. And besides, I already have the elaborate plan laid out. Let me just call Rob now and tell him we'll be a little late." Angelique chuckled and headed towards the bathroom. "Fine, I get the first shower," she taunted. Savannah sighed and opened her phone to call Rob. After some charming flirtatious footwork, she was able to finagle Rob and his friend Max out of another hour of their evenings. "Ok, we'll be there at nine-thirty, not a minute later," she smiled and hung up. She checked her watch- three minutes till eight. With an hour long commute to the trendy village bar they were meeting the boys at, that only left 30 minutes to get ready. With a shrug, she set her phone down and walked toward the bathroom as she peeled off clothes. When she opened the door, Angelique let out an awkward screech as she turned towards the wall of the shower. "What are you doing?" she screamed. "I'm taking a shower!" Savannah answered gaily as she unclipped her blue lace bra and slipped out of her matching underwear. She had to admit that tripping up Angelique was one of her favorite things to do. The two of them were in a good-natured war, always trying to outdo one another and seeing who would get the biggest reaction. Savannah opened the glass shower door and stepped into the steamy enclosure. Angelique had turned around and was giving Savannah a nasty look while still trying to cover herself. "Sav, what the fuck do you think your doing?" Angelique questioned defiantly. Savannah wet her generous black hair under the shower head and grabbed the shampoo. "I told you, I'm taking a shower. We don't have time to take separate ones, Ange. Just go about your business and I'll go about mine and we'll both be out in ten minutes." Angelique nearly growled with annoyance at this intruder who was her closest companion, but Savannah flipped her clean hair and poked Angelique's waist. "Oh come on, you prude, I've seen it before!" Angelique's arms came down to push Savannah's hand away and she snorted in frustration. "Fine," she said. "But I never agreed to this!" Angelique grabbed the shampoo bottle from Savannah and began washing her own thick mane of auburn hair. Savannah watched her defiant friend scrub away at the soft shiny hair she had stroked so many times. It was true, she had seen Angelique's body before, but something about this situation was different. The angry annoyance radiated from Angelique's hour glass figure with a fiery beauty that filled the steamy shower with emotional tension. The water streaming down Angelique's creamy skin, washing the suds from her hair down her smooth body, entranced Savannah for a moment, but then she thought, This is Angelique, my closest friend in the world. Why shouldn't we be so close? When Savannah got to the conditioner first, Angelique grabbed it away from her, but it slipped out of her hand and clattered onto the tile floor of the shower. As she bent down to pick up the bottle, the wet, brown-sugar skin of Savannah's back slid against Angelique's side. She picked up the bottle at Savannah's feet and stood up quickly, an image of Savannah's long, muscular legs and soft, curving back stuck like a frozen movie frame in Angelique's mind. Blushing, Angelique turned away to condition her hair. Savannah had picked up the soap and was running it over her body, creating a fine creamy lather over her toffee-colored skin. She casually put a hand on Angelique's back and started to lather her up as well. "Sav, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Angelique asked again, this time a little more playfully. "I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine, Savannah said laughingly. Angelique sighed, but she let Savannah continue until her back was sudsy with the sweet-smelling soap. "Now turn around," Savannah said. "I don't think I need you to do my front, Sav," Angelique quipped. "I should be able to reach that myself," but Savannah was already running the smooth bar of soap over Angelique's shoulders and arms. Angelique watched her do it, moving slowly and rhythmically over each inch of Angelique's skin. She was about to push Savannah away, but then thought better of it. What is she doing this for? she thought. Savannah rubbed Angelique's arms caringly and then began to soap her neck, her collarbones, her chest. She ran the soap over Angelique's generous breasts, once, twice, and the third time she followed the soap with an empty hand, trailing her long fingers over Angelique's coral pink nipple. As she passed over it, Angelique shivered ever so slightly and her nipples hardened and darkened. Angelique put her hand on Savannah's elbow and looked at her, bewildered. "Sav…?" she whispered. "Ange…" Savannah whispered back, but Angelique was already on top of her, her full red lips pressing into Savannah's caramel colored ones. Water ran down their heads and around their mouths, and as Angelique slipped her tongue into Savannah's open mouth she tasted the cool sweet water against the savory warmth of Savannah's tongue. The next moment, Angelique found herself against the shower wall as Savannah rubbed the soap against her body—over her chest, her stomach, her breasts and ass. Savannah held Angelique's chin in one hand and her body in the other, caressing her with slippery touches from one end of Angelique's beautiful body to the other. Savannah ran the soap down the side of Angelique's waist, over the point of her hip bone, and slid it between her legs. Angelique breathed in with surprise. Savannah's strong tongue pressed into her mouth, commanding her to submit. Her teeth nibbled at Angelique's lips, her ears, her neck, and all the while Savannah kept a firm pressure on the soap between Angelique's legs. "Savannah…" Angelique moaned, and she turned one knee out so that she could feel Savannah's firm rubbing more directly. Savannah's body was pressed against Angelique's, and she pulled her from the wall underneath the stream of water from the showerhead. Angelique took Savannah's head in her hands and kissed her deeply, intensely. In that moment, with water running over both of them, washing away the lather from Angelique's soapy body, washing away the distance of their "friendship" and their doubts about each other, the women were melded into a single entity, drenched in torrents of wet desire. Savannah dropped the soap and rubbed Angelique with her hands, feeling all of the folds and intimacies of Angelique's body, learning them as she knew her own. She let her fingers follow the sounds of Angelique's moans and they focused around the tightening knob of nerves between Angelique's thighs. Savannah ran quick circles around Angelique's throbbing clit, but she knew this woman—her soul mate and confidante—and she knew what Angelique wanted. Thrusting her against the wall of the shower again, Savannah worked her way roughly down Angelique's body, biting her neck, the curve of her soft, voluptuous breasts, her hard nipples. She knelt in front of Angelique' pulsing figure and thrust her fingers insider her, feeling the warm, slick wetness of her body, feeling the moans course through Angelique's heart and lungs and throat and escape through her open mouth. "Oh God, Sav, what the fuck are you doing?" Angelique moaned. Savannah raised herself to Angelique's mouth again, staying inside her and keeping pressure on her hard clit. "I'm fucking you Ange. Isn't that what you want me to do?" Angelique looked Savannah in the eye, and as her eyes rolled from her ecstasy she whispered into Savannah's ear, "Yes, I've wanted you—I want you to fuck me." Savannah knelt again and smiled as she plunged herself back through Angelique's quaking flesh and heard her best friend's satisfied moans. Angelique put her head back, her throaty noises of pleasure resounding off the shower walls. Savannah drove into her over and over, and with a steady rhythm she gave Angelique more and more—more of her fingers, deeper and harder and faster—and Angelique took it. When she heard Ange slowing down, quieting with fatigue, Savannah kissed her stomach, her belly button, and then slid her tongue between Angelique's labia, flicking it over her engorged, reddened clitoris as she held her fingers deep inside Ange's tight cunt. Angelique moaned long and loud. She lifted her leg and rested it on Savannah's shoulder and leaned forward, putting her hands through Savannah's thick, wet, raven hair. As Savannah's tongue spoke sweet, torturous languages to Angelique's clit, Angelique spoke to Savannah with her fingers; massaging her scalp, gripping the thick hair as if to hold on to her sanity, always staying entangled in Savannah's soft mane and strong supple body. Savannah quickened the pace of her speaking—her tongue flicked directly over the hard pit of Angelique's soft wet peach. She smiled as she heard Angelique's moans quicken and rise in pitch until Angelique was screaming. Angelique came hard, trembling uncontrollably in Savannah's arms as waves of ecstatic sensation crashed within her body. As she came, Savannah kept fucking her with her fingers and tongue, prolonging and sharpening Angelique's orgasm until the pleasure was almost unbearable. Her energy finally expended, Angelique put her leg down to stabilize herself and Savannah shook out her legs as she stood to lean against Angelique, pressing her into the wall and pressing her lips into Angelique's. Angelique kissed her back passionately. "I bet Max couldn't have made you come that hard," Savannah laughed. "No, I doubt he could have," Ange smiled back, still pulsing with gentle waves of pleasure. "God, Savannah, you don't know how much I've…" Angelique blushed and looked down. "How much you've what?" Savannah asked, entwining her fingers in Angelique's—a position of comfort the friends often took when one of them was in need of affection. "Nothing," Angelique looked into Savannah's eyes, smiled, and kissed her. "It's just… can I fuck you now?" Savannah laughed good-naturedly. "By all means." Savannah kissed Angelique hard, parting her lips with her tongue and exploring the soft inner warmth of Angelique's mouth with hers. She felt Angelique's delicate fingers caressing her skin, feeling the weight of her heavy breasts, sliding over the wet skin of her stomach, the small of her back, her tight ass. Savannah took Angelique's hand and moved it to the front of her, placing her fingers in the slippery wet warmth between her legs. Angelique explored the textures and folds of Savannah's womanhood with awe—she had often wondered what it would be like to touch Savannah this way. But she also had a need to reciprocate the pleasure that Savannah had given her with the same assuredness. Angelique's heart beat fast as she whispered, "Damn, somebody got wet from touching a girl…" Savannah chuckled, "I admit it, fucking you turned me on." Savannah's words gave Angelique more confidence, "Good," she cooed. Then she slowly removed the steady pressure she'd been placing between Savannah's legs. "But I have other plans for you." She stepped closer to Savannah, pushing her slowly backward into the wall under the shower head. Angelique held Savannah's wrists above her head. "Hold on to that," she instructed, putting Savannah's hands around the pipe extending from the wall to the shower head. Angelique stepped back to remove the shower head from it's fixture on the wall. She looked at Savannah, spread out before her, her arms above her head and her body glistening and naked. Angelique stepped forward and raised the shower head above Savannah, letting the water run down her head and face to her torso, over her generous breasts, and between her legs in streaming rivulets. Angelique switched the water pressure from a steady, diffused spray to a direct, fast stream of water. She moved this stream of water down Savannah's neck and chest and over both her breasts, where she was rewarded with a soft moan as the water hit Savannah's hard, dark nipples. "You know," Savannah chuckled," I used to do this to myself when I was little," "Good, then," answered Angelique, then added laughingly, "this can be a good bonding experience for us. After this I can even psychoanalyze your childhood sexuality." She moved the stream of water from the shower slowly down Savannah's stomach and between her legs. She adjusted the stream until she saw Savannah's muscles contract in a surprised moment of sensation. Angelique laughed. "What?" "Nothing," Savannah whispered breathily. Angelique kissed her commandingly. "Just close your eyes and feel it," Savannah obeyed. She was surprised at the ease with which she did so, as well as the ease with which Angelique now commanded her body. Ange moved the stream of water slowly back and forth over her swollen clitoris, and soon Savannah could think of nothing but the pulsating sensation in her own body. "Oh God," she whispered, and then louder, "Oh, Angelique!" Angelique smiled, watching her friend; eyes closed, head back, body pulsing to the rhythm that Angelique set. With her free hand, Angelique stroked Savannah's breasts, pinching the hard flesh of her nipples between her fingers. Savannah's moans increased. Angelique moved the showerhead faster and faster, and finally she kissed Savannah hard, her tongue forcing it's way to the back of her mouth, probing her friend's body as she let the stream of water rush directly onto Savannah's clitoris. Almost immediately Savannah came. As she did, her body trembled, she moaned hoarsely, the muscles in her clitoris and vagina contracted, she gushed with ecstasy. Angelique put her arm around Savannah's waist, holding her up as she replaced the shower head to the wall. Savannah put her arms around Angelique's shoulders, holding her as she quaked and trembled with pleasure. Angelique found Savannah's soft sweet mouth and kissed her again. Savannah looked her in the eye. "I love you, Ange, you know that, right?" Angelique could only smile back at her. She hugged Savannah close to her, felt the weight and warmth of this woman who was the closest person to her heart, and whispered in her ear, "Of course. And I love you." The girls stumbled out of the shower, dried each other of the liquids of their lovemaking, and, wrapped in towels, collapsed on Savannah's large white bed. They talked and laughed, entwining fingers—as was their custom when they were in need of affection—and every so often, kissing each other tenderly on the lips. Just as Angelique was about to force herself off the bed and into the kitchen for some brie and crackers, Savannah grabbed her arm suddenly, "Shit, Angelique, what about our date?" Oasis As he entered the welcoming shade of the indoor garden, the mingled scents and colours of exotic flowers and fruit trees assailed his senses. Flowering Jasmine sweetened the air, scintillating his nostrils, enticing his brain with the heavy scent, mixing with the erotic sweetness of Ylang-Ylang blossoms and fragrant roses. He luxuriated in the scent, letting it fill him with its aphrodisiacal qualities. The cool, moist air was a welcome change to the heated desert air outside. The desalinization plant he had installed provided more than enough water for his palace, allowing him to indulge in such fancies as exotic courtyards, indoor streams, fountains and ponds. He delighted in water, a commodity his ancestors had not been able to indulge, yet modern technology made it possible for anyone with enough money to create his own oasis beside the sea. Fortunately he had more than enough money and he appreciated this haven he had created for himself and his family. The children had been sent to a nearby island for a camping weekend, giving the Sheik a whole weekend with which to enjoy the fact that he had four wives and a very special relationship with each and every one of them. Saturated with the intoxicating fumes, he started off again, he crossed a bubbling stream that emanated from the wall to his side and walked to his front door. The door magically retreated from his outstretched hand, revealing his youngest wife Jasmina, clad in a diaphanous white silk gown. The sun was behind her, transforming her into an erotic silhouette surrounded by an ethereal aura of her diaphanous garment. She gave him a formal bow, welcoming him home. He stepped inside, planting a kiss on Jasmina's mouth as she closed the door behind him. She flowed into his arms, her own encircling his sides, causing shivers up his spine as her hands trailed up his sides up to his armpits, then lightly scratch back down. 'You told us to start without you if you were late.' She pouted, breathing hot against his neck. 'That I did indeed.' He breathed huskily into her ear, his loins twitching at the thought of what was transpiring but a few corridors from where he was standing at that very moment. He slipped his hand beneath her gossamer robe, causing her to shiver in delight as his hand trailed down her stomach to rest flat against her mons as he turned away from her. His hand moved lower and his middle finger curled in, penetrating her, causing her to gasp. Setting off towards the courtyard, he trailed her behind him. He could feel her lips move against his finger as she walked, coating his middle finger with viscous, slick nectar that slowly flowed to his palm. He knew how walking behind him like she did, fueled her lust, her submissive nature reveling in his mastery of her by dominating her so intimately with just one finger. He leisurely made his way through his luxurious home, followed closely by his panting young wife. He could hear the faint bubbling of a rocky stream, intermittently mingled with the soft sighs of a woman in heat. As he approached the wide doorway, the volume of both the exotic ambience and erotic moans increased, until he turned past the corner and his eyes confirmed what his ears already told him. He so loved giving the girls instructions to start without him, because sharing three wives the way he did, all at once, he had to have a way of tiring them out a bit so they wouldn't gang up on him all at once. Besides that, he so enjoyed surreptitiously observing their unabated lust for each other, engrossed in pleasuring each other until they would finally notice him. He looked upon a massive courtyard, its glass roof letting the last pink light of the day into the picturesque chamber, casting the scene in sensuous shadows. Water poured from the mouth of an exotic sculpture high up a wall, the figure resembling a dryad. Her physique was exquisite, a perfect blend of human and botanical anatomies. The water flowed down her chin, down her neck, coating her tumultuous breasts in a shimmering shroud, over her bark-like stomach down, hiding her sex in froth as the sheet of water coalesced there, continuing its flow down her root-like legs, which seemed to grow into the wall. His eyes followed the water down to a basin from which it cascaded down the wall into a dreamy pool, surrounded by trees. At the edge of the pool stood a structure, not unlike a four-poster bed. Bright, richly coloured silk and satin was draped over the lateral bars and down the posts, partially obscuring the area within. The floor beneath was covered with soft Persian rugs and plush cushions. The scene beneath the four poster structure only served to add to the fires of his lust. His wives were servicing each other orally, in order of hierarchy. His eldest wife Zaynah was lying on plush Persian carpet, her back propped against fluffy cushions, her eyes closed, head raised in rapt enjoyment. She was moaning contentedly, as his second wife Fatima lapped lustily at her sex. Shamesh was lying on her back beneath Fatima slowly eating her out. With one hand she was slowly pumping an ivory phallus in and out of herself, while the other hand lazily played with Fatima's puckered anus. Jasmina stood close behind him, hard nipples pressing into his back, her hips gyrating against his cupped hand, caressing his chest as she also took the scene in. Once hand snaked down his belly to undo the tie of his robe. He finally released her from her delicious bondage to allow his robes to fall from him. She pressed herself against him, her warm skin burning into back, buttock and thighs, her light garment having joined his on the floor. He arms encircled his taught belly, snaking down to cup his smooth sack, moving up to caress his rock hard member. He groaned softly as she stroked his circumcised manhood, belying his presence to the three rutting females. Oasis The sun was just rising on Oasis but I could already feel the heat of the day as I looked out the broken window of the abandoned building I was squatting in. I was a foreigner in the desert town, having fled my war-ravaged homeland around a year before. I moved from place to place before arriving at Oasis a few months ago. It was quite a developed city for the fourteenth century; it was generally peaceful and all citizens, both men and women, were given equal rights. However, this equality did not pass to foreigners like me. We were seen as disposable, cheap, labor; hardly a step above a slave. Work was fairly easy to find but was always temporary and backbreaking. I set out that morning and made my way to the city square in hopes for a few hours of paid labor. It was easy to tell who the foreigners were. For the most part, we wore dirty rags and tattered shoes, if we weren't barefoot. Some of the men, including myself, didn't wear shirts to demonstrate whatever musculature we had to potential employers. I had destroyed my shoes working in a mud pit the week before so I was barefoot as well. As I got to the square, it was already bustling with citizens rushing to work and a handful of nobles lazily meandering around between the different shops and stands. It was always easy to tell who was a noble. They were always dressed exquisitely and never in a rush. In the crowd, I saw one noblewoman I couldn't take my eyes off. She was the most beautiful person I ever saw; tall, thin, gorgeous. And she was wearing a dress that dipped so low in the front that it exposed almost all of the perfect orbs that were her breasts. I was interrupted from my gazing by a sharp push from behind. I twirled around to see two policewomen standing behind me, their ever-present crops in their hands. "Like what you're looking at scum?" One of the women asked me, nodding at the noblewoman across the crowd, poking my chest with her crop. Maybe I was staring for too long. "If I was a noble, I wouldn't take too kindly to a half-naked foreigner eyeing my up and down like a piece of meat," said the other. "Let's see what the good Lady thinks about it." She started to work her way through the crowd towards the woman while the other policewomen kept her crop on my chest menacingly. My eyes were firmly fixed at the ground at this point, but when I glanced up, I saw the policewomen guiding the noble through the crowd. When they reached me, I didn't say anything. The Lady looked me up and down, then smiled and turned to the two officers. "Well, what are you waiting for? Arrest him." ******************************************* A few hours later, I was in a fairly large prison cell, on my knees with my hands shackled behind my back, still shirtless and barefoot. The two policewomen had placed me in the center of the room and threatened to crop me if I moved. They walked out, leaving me alone. A few minutes later, the wooden door swung open and the noblewoman walked in, wearing the same outfit from that morning. I involuntarily glanced at her exposed cleavage before quickly staring wordlessly at the ground. "Still can't keep your eyes off me, can you scum?" she chuckled. "M'lady I-" "I don't want to hear your excuses or your apologies" she cut me off, "I am here to make sure you don't disrespect a citizen, especially a noblewoman, again." "I'm going to give you a choice," she said, sitting on the wooden bench in front of me. "You can either take a public whipping for your disrespect or...you can show me how sorry you are for insulting me," uncrossing and spreading her legs on the bench. "Ma'am?" I asked. "Even you can't be that dull, scum. Either have your back striped or you put your tongue on my pussy until I'm done with you. Decide quickly or I'll pick for you." As she was saying this, she took off her panties to reveal a smooth pussy that was already glistening with her wetness. She hiked up her skirt and leaned back expectantly. I knew one thing for sure. I didn't want to be whipped. I had seen men and women, almost all foreigners, in the public square stripped down and flogged for the entertainment of the citizens, often for insignificant crimes. It was a rarity for a "criminal" to make it to the end of the session without screaming in pain. So as much as I didn't want to have my mouth used as this woman's sex toy, my choice was easy. With my hands still chained behind my back, I awkwardly shuffled forward on my knees until I was face to face with her pussy. Without saying anything, I put my tongue on her swollen clit and started swirling it, trying to get her off as quickly as possible. But she put her hands on my face and pulled me off of her, slapping my cheek half playfully, half menacingly. "Not so fast, I want you to take it slow. Warm me up first and make it good. Or I might just have you whipped anyway," she said. When she let go of my, I began to slowly kiss her inner thighs, one side at a time. I gently sunk my teeth into the meat of her upper leg, causing her to moan in pleasure. I ran my tongue down into the crease between her thigh and vagina, making broad strokes. She moaned louder as I flicked my tongue against her lips. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and pushed me into her pussy. "Fuck me with your tongue," she ordered between moans. I buried my tongue as deep as I could inside her, tasting her wetness as it sloshed over my face. It seemed like I was tongue-fucking her for fifteen minutes before she pulled my face up and started to grind her clit against my tongue. The noblewoman came a few moments later, screaming and pulling my face against her. After her climax, she ordered my to slowly lick her pussy lips. A few minutes of licking later, she pushed me away from her, grabbing my cheeks in both hands. The Lady lowered her face next to mine, as if she was going to kiss me. I tried to lean in to receive the kiss, but she just smiled, looked me in the eye, and spat on my face. "I hope you learned your lesson, scum. Although, it seems that you enjoyed it almost as much as me," the noble said, nodding to my crotch, where I had somehow become erect. She stood up, pulled her panties back on and walked out the door, closing it behind her, leaving me alone in the cell on my knees, my hands chained behind me, my face wet from her various fluids, and my erection still throbbing.