9 comments/ 125743 views/ 90 favorites The Sheikh & I By: The Sheikh & I “I gave Salma instructions to dress you appropriately for the desert. We won’t be running into any people this afternoon so you may take off the abaya. Make sure to cover your head though. The sun is far too strong for your pale skin.” I was stunned to see the Sheikh step out of the jeep, taking off his own robe and standing before me in western slacks and a white long sleeved shirt that had a couple of buttons undone, showing off some black curls on bronzed skin. He kept his headdress on and matter-of-factly helped me wrap my scarf around my head in the fashion of the local women. “Thank you sir,” was all I could think of saying. “What for?” “For taking time to show me around.” “Think nothing of it. When Mustafa mentioned that you wanted to go exploring I cursed myself for not having offered to take you before. Allah would never forgive me if I kept a beautiful girl like you, Jamilah, from seeing the beautiful land that you’re in.” I liked the way he pronounced my new name. It rolled sensuously off his lips. “Do you own all this land?” I asked as he started the engine again. “Ah, how can a mere man own all this spectacular scenery?” he smiled back at me, revealing impeccable white teeth. “I’m only a custodian of it for my son, and my son’s sons, and their sons.” “How about your daughters?” I asked curiously. “My daughters will do me proud by marrying men who can strengthen our family’s role in this region.” We continued on in silence, stopping occasionally for the Sheikh to point out some landmark to me. On the occasions when what we were looking at was on my side he leaned across and placed his hand on my shoulder and spoke with his mouth inches from my ear. I couldn’t concentrate on what we were seeing anymore. I could smell the musky smell of man mixed with a faint scent of an after shave or shower lotion. I breathed it in and feigned interest. Late on in the afternoon we saw the first and only people on our outing. A jeep, identical to ours, came in the opposite direction. The Sheikh told me to cover my face and I did as he slowed down and greeted the men in the other jeep. We soon reached an oasis. Right in the middle of the barren desert stood a few dozen palm trees and resting in their shadows was a large tent. The Sheikh pulled up outside it and invited me in. The tent was furnished with luscious cushions, arranged around a table with a feast fit for a king. I felt the Sheikh’s hands on my arms as he placed his lips against my hair and whispered. “Dinner is served, Jamilah.” We sat down together and he pointed out the various dishes to me. There was enough food there to feed an army. Our conversation during the meal was polite and I was sure that the Sheikh was picking up on the sexual tension that was consuming my mind. But even with all the erotic thoughts that were going on in my mind it took me completely by surprise when the Sheikh quickly slid over to where I was sitting and took me in his arms. He pressed my lips against mine and in the shock of the surprise I didn’t think to protest. I allowed his tongue into my mouth and enjoyed playing with it as he explored my mouth. It was only when I felt his hand on my breast, like I had fantasized about for so many nights, that I came to my senses. “Please, sir, we can’t do this,” I pulled away from him, my breathing as ragged as his. “You want it as much as I do,” he stated and his piercing eyes dared me to protest. “I do,” I conceded. “But that doesn’t make it right. That’s not who I am. What would you say if a man tried to do this with your sister?” “My sisters wouldn’t have been alone with a man to allow this situation to happen in the first instance. They know their place.” “Well, your culture is different from mine. In my culture it’s OK for me to spend an afternoon in the company of an honourable man, but I can’t take it any further.” “You think it’s OK to tease a man with your golden hair and eyes as blue as the desert sky?” “I didn’t realise I was teasing you. I would never knowingly do that.” “Oh sweet Jamilah, I didn’t mean to accuse you. It’s just that you take my breath away. My body has ached for you every night since you arrived and every girl from my harem who’s been sent to please me has made me even hungrier for you.” He held me close to him and spoke with his lips against my hair. He was speaking my very thoughts. We were both passionately drawn to each other. “Can we please go back to the palace,” I begged him, wanting the safety of my own apartment. “I’m sorry, my sweet. It’s dark now and only a fool would try to cross the desert in the darkness.” ”You mean I have to spend the night here alone with you?” “You will be safe.” “That’s not the point!” I’d gone from aching to feel his body next to mine to being enraged. “Everybody in the palace will know that we’ve spent the night here. They will assume that I’ve slept with you.” “But we’ll both know that it hasn’t happened. Unless you change your mind…” “That’s irrelevant! When we come back they’ll think I’m no better than one of the whores in your harem.” He lifted his hand to strike me, but stopped himself at the last moment. “The girls in my harem were all virgins when they came to please me, my brother or my father. They’re all from reputable families who couldn’t afford the dowry to marry them off and nobody has been forced into my bed against their will.” I lowered my eyes. “I’m sorry. But just as you find my western clothes unacceptable, so do I find a harem unacceptable and I could never live like that.” He looked at me and caressed my cheek. “You look so cool and calm with those pale colours, but I can see that there’s plenty of fire and passion hidden behind that frosty exterior. How I would love to experience what that passion would be like in bed.” He kissed my hands and pointed towards an opening in the tent. “The sleeping quarter is in there. I’ll let you sleep the chaste sleep of a virgin yet another night and I’ll stay out here. Tomorrow we deal with whatever comes next.” I awoke at the sound of voices speaking in Arabic. After a while Salma entered the sleeping quarters and looked disappointed to see me in the wrinkled clothes from the night before. “I gave you your prettiest underwear because I was sure the Sheikh wanted to make love with you, Lady Jamilah. And now it looks like he did not even get to see them.” I smiled at the girl for whom being asked to sleep with the Sheikh seemed to be the highest honour that could be bestowed on any girl. She helped me bathe and I got dressed again. She asked me to wait for a while and then I heard a car drive off. The Sheikh called my name and as I entered the part of the tent where we’d been last night I saw that the dinner had been cleared away and was now replaced by a mouth-watering breakfast. We ate in silence and then we set off back to the palace. When we got back the Sheikh kissed the back of my hand, winked at me and disappeared, leaving me to be guided back by one of the woman servants. We passed several women on the way to my apartment and they all giggled and looked the other way when they saw me. I suspected they thought that I’d spent the night with the Sheikh and I felt that this situation would be unbearable in the long run. When we reached my apartment Salma was waiting for me and the poor girl had tears in her eyes. “I am so sorry, Lady Jamilah,” she said with tears falling down her cheeks. “When I came back I tried to set the record straight and I told everybody that you and the Sheikh had not made love.” I couldn’t understand what was so wrong about that. “But now everybody thinks the Sheikh rejected you,” she continued explaining. “They say you are not enough of a woman to satisfy an Arab Sheikh and he wants nothing to do with you.” That explained the sniggering. I rolled my eyes at the people in this palace. Didn’t anyone believe that a woman could actually resist that man? No matter how strong his sexual charisma was… I spent the afternoon relaxing and reading. I had been hoping to dine with the Sheikh again to beg him to set the record straight, but no such luck. Once again I dined alone. My body ached to feel his lips against mine and his hands cupping my breast again. Why had I said no? The next morning it was still dark when Salma nudged me to wake me up. I was still half asleep and I wondered if he cheery girl next to me ever slept. We went through our normal bathing ritual but she didn’t start dressing me immediately. Instead she handed me my dressing gown and told me to sit down and have my breakfast. I was sipping my tea and eating toast and fruit when several women dressed in abayas entered my apartment. Salma pulled off my dressing gown in front of them, leaving me feeling shy and exposed. The lady who appeared to be in charge said something in Arabic to the other women and they pulled me with them and made me sit down on the side of the bed. Still holding me they parted my legs, letting the woman in charge stick a long finger inside my most private space. I protested and felt utterly violated but nobody paid any attention to me. The woman pulled her finger out again, wiped it off and said something that was obviously met with approval by the other ladies. Salma came back as soon as they exited and she was all smiles. “Who was that?” I demanded to know. “That was the Sheikh’s mother,” she said. “She confirms you are still a virgin.” I marvelled at the steps that had been taken to ensure that I was still a reputable woman and I was both thankful to the Sheikh for taking these steps and furious for the violation of my privacy. Salma started doing my hair. Unlike other days when she’d just braid it she was now doing it in an elaborate style. I wondered what the point of it all was, since I was spending the day with a little boy who wouldn’t have noticed if I showed up dressed as a magician. Salma then proceeded to doing my makeup, making it much thicker than what I normally wore. When she was finished I saw myself in the mirror and I was stunned by the result. I felt that I looked stunning, but it was way over the top to teach a schoolboy all day. Then a few servants entered with a golden garment. It took five of them to get the elaborate layers of fine, embroidered silk on me and I wondered if I’d ever be able to get out of it. I asked Salma what the purpose of all this was, since nobody was likely to see me and she answered that the Sheikh’s mother would see me, as would the Sheikh. I figured that his mother had obviously been called out as a result of the non-incident in the tent and now I’d been invited to dine with her. That didn’t explain why we were getting dressed so early. Despite the time taken to get ready this morning, it was still far from noon even. I wondered if I’d ever learn, or have a chance to learn, the customs of this faraway country. Once again I was covered up and taken through the palace. There seemed to be a flurry of activity going on, but then I didn’t normally move around the palace at this time of the day. We reached an apartment that was larger and more luxurious than mine and Salma helped me out of the abaya and put some final touches to my hair. The woman who’d violated me before entered from what I thought was her bedroom and she was wearing an outfit that was fairly similar to mine, but the silk was black with gold embroidery. She motioned for me to sit down. The lady excused her poor English and started quizzing me about my life in England. She seemed to know the private facts that I’d shared with the Sheikh and on a couple of occasions I felt that she was getting far too personal, but I was too intimidated by her to do anything but answer truthfully. When she was done she called out a name and I was taken to an adjoining room where Salma kept me company for about an hour or so. I was still not sure what was going on and Salma was unusually unhelpful by not answering any questions. Then one of the ladies from the Sheikh’s mother’s room came in and handed Salma a box. Salma opened it and gasped at its contents. I joined her to look at it and was stunned by the collection of gold and diamond jewellery. Salma started putting the jewellery on me. The heavy diamond earrings on my ears, the opulent necklace around my neck, countless bracelets and anklets, all in gold and with intricate designs of precious stones. I felt that I was wearing more money than my parents had earned in their entire lives. I felt uncomfortable and protested, but once again my protests fell on deaf ears. The Sheikh had ordered this and what the Sheikh wanted he got. Shortly afterwards Salma brought out another garment – resembling a veil. Unlike an abaya it was the same golden silk that my dress was made out of, but it still covered up my arms, hair and face. Salma gave me a hug and disappeared and I was soon joined by the Sheikh’s mother and Mustafa who told us to follow him. Mustafa went first, followed by the Sheikh’s mother, followed by me. Behind me were two more men and like Mustafa they seemed to be wearing a dressed up version of their normal uniform. I gathered that we were about to enjoy a fabulous banquet. We entered a large hall with dozens of men watching our every step. The Sheikh’s mother kissed her son’s cheek and sat next to him. He gave me his ring to kiss as I kneeled before him and I did. He then motioned for me to sit on his other side. The men started parading before our eyes, but I didn’t understand what anyone was saying. I was fascinated and wished that Mustafa had stood next to me so that I could have asked him what was happening. Then the final man came up and it sounded like he was preaching to us. I heard him say “Jamilah” several times and gathered that he was speaking to me, but I still didn’t understand. Then the Sheikh leaned towards me and told me to say “Yes”, which I did. The Sheikh then said something to the man and the man shouted out some good news and the men in the hall cheered. The man turned to me and said “Lady Jamilah al-Hussein, may your womb be fruitful and carry many sons for your husband.” My husband? I nearly shouted those words out loud. I turned to the Sheikh and looked at him with outrage and he just smiled back at me. “We will talk after the banquet,” he warned me as he took my arm and proceeded towards the banquet hall. When we got to the banquet hall more than 100 people, mainly men and a few women, were waiting. I followed the Sheikh and there was a murmur of pleasure as he helped me get settled next to him. My mind was full of poison. All the erotic dreams I’d had about him were vanished and I was fuming. I hardly managed to eat anything and a lot of people noticed this and smiled at me. They probably thought I was a blushing bride who was nervous about the wedding night. This wasn’t completely untrue, but my reason for not being able to eat was my fury about how I’d been treated. This so called marriage surely couldn’t be legal. The banquet seemed to go on forever. When the sun started settling in the Arabian desert the Sheikh stood up and offered me his hand. I saw no sense of creating a scene and followed him to the sound of friendly voices shouting out words I couldn’t understand. I recognised the Sheikh’s suite when we arrived there and the minute the doors closed behind us I ripped off the material that was covering my face and walked up to him and made him face me. “We’re MARRIED?” I demanded to know. “How could we possibly get married without MY consent?” “You gave your consent,” he smiled. “You said yes, remember?” “But I didn’t understand the question. I didn’t know what was happening. Nobody told me I was getting married. That cannot be legal even here.” “Oh it’s legal.” “Well, I demand to be taken to the nearest airport immediately. I’m leaving this place right now!” “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. According to the laws of my country a married woman is not allowed to travel without her husband, or without his written consent.” “But I’m a British citizen.” “You may be a British citizen, but the moment you said yes you also became a citizen of this country, and I’m afraid that takes precedence over your British citizenship as long as you’re in the Arab world.” I was so angry I had tears running down my cheeks. This wasn’t true. This was one of my hot dreams gone too far and I’d soon wake up and everything would be back to normal. I felt two strong arms close around me and comforting lips kissing my head. “Is being my wife such a bad deal? Most single women in this country would be overjoyed to have me take them without a dowry.” “That’s neither here nor there. I wasn’t asked. I wasn’t consulted in this matter. I don’t know how it’s done here but where I’m from a girl is usually asked whether she wants to walk down the aisle.” “Ah, well here we ask the father.” “And you didn’t even ask my father.” “As a matter of fact, I did.” “You did???? He would never give his consent to this charade.” “He did. You see, I explained the situation to him. I told him that we’d fallen in love and in our carelessness we’d exposed you to a lot of criticism from people here and the only way to solve that was to get married instantly. He was very understandable when I told him I was arranging this with such short notice to protect your honour.” “But you lied,” I whispered. “We don’t love each other.” “Don’t we? What was between us in that tent was more than lust. You’ve been wanting me as much as I’ve been wanting you.” “But I can’t marry a man who will one day toss me aside and take another wife.” “Look at the divorce rate in the west. Any man there could do that to you. Here you are protected. You are my fourth and final wife. You are the last woman to go to the marital bed with me. Your future is secure as long as I live. If you outlive me you’ll get a generous pension and can live wherever you want in the world. If you give me sons your future is secure with them as long as you live.” My eyes had stopped crying. I felt very small and alone. “As I told your father, I had to marry you to protect your honour,” the Sheikh continued since I wasn’t speaking. “If it wasn’t bad enough for your reputation to have spent the night with me, Salma then made it even worse when she tried to defend you. There was no way you were going to survive here with the palace thinking I’d rejected you. Now they know I decided to wait because I wanted to marry you.” “But it’s not true,” my voice was still little more than a whisper. “Isn’t it?” “I don’t even know your name. I can’t call you Sheikh.” He laughed out loud at my last comment. “My dearest, sweetest, most beautiful Jamilah. My mother calls me Malik and so may you.” “Is that not your real name?” I asked, puzzled by his way of telling me. “Yes, it’s the start of a very long name that ends in al-Hussein. One of these days I will teach you to say it all, but this is not the time. This is our wedding night and I have much more pleasurable activities in mind for you.” I gasped at the thought of the wedding night. Surely he wasn’t going to rape me? As if he’d read my mind he took my hand and pressed it against his lips. “I will not force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I’m hoping that before dawn you will be clinging to me and crying out my name.” He took me by the hand and led me into his bedroom, which was a display of opulence and luxury. I marvelled at my surroundings while Malik undid my golden veil. He stood in front of me and smiled. I didn’t dare smile for fear of revealing the confusing feelings that were rushing around in my head. He placed a finger under my chin and lifted it, allowing him to brush his lips against mine. He moved on to slowly take off the jewellery that I’d been wearing and then he undid my hair. It had taken Salma close to an hour to put it up in that style and he managed to undo it by taking out one pin. My golden curls spread across my shoulders and I caught the scent of the floral shampoo that Salma had been using on my hair. The Sheikh & I With his hands gently caressing me he made me forget that he was also undressing me. I was in a trance and didn’t wake up from it until the cool night breeze from the window blew across my naked skin, stiffening my pink nipples. Malik stood and looked at me with a peculiar look in his eyes. Had I not lived up to his expectations? Was there something wrong with me? Were c-cup breasts not big enough for him? Were they too big? Had Salma made a mistake to shave my pussy? I’d assumed it had been done for him. “What’s wrong?” I asked anxiously. “Nothing is wrong,” he smiled back and started disrobing. “I was just thanking Allah for sending me an angel.” I choked up. This man didn’t love me. He was taking me by force. But he sure sounded like a man in love and he was slowly seducing me with his hands and his words. Soon he stood before me in his naked glory. He was at least 6’4 and bronzed all over. He was very athletic and his chest was covered by a thin mat of hair, as black as the short crop on his head and his goatee. I averted my eyes when I caught my first glimpse of his cock. I’d seen pictures of men’s organs before and I’d had erections pressed against me, but I’d never been in the presence of a naked man. He was semi-erect and the size was already frightening to me. “Don’t be afraid, my beautiful.” I could hear the smile on his voice. “We have all the time in the world. We will take this very slowly. Normally I would ask you to take me in your mouth as enjoyable foreplay, but that’s something that we’ll do when you get comfortable around me. Come lie down with me.” He took my hand and we walked over to the bed. He lay down and I lay next to him. He started kissing me again. His lips caressed mine and one of his hands rested protectively over my breast. He then slowly pried my lips open with his tongue and started feeling his way around, playfully touching my tongue. As I melted into the kiss my body softened ever so slightly under his hand. His caress was light as a butterfly, lighting fires as it discovered my naked skin. As his hands moved down across my waist I could feel his mouth leaving mine and exploring my throat and collarbones. The roughness of his beard and the softness of his lips provided a wonderful combination. I could feel my senses between my thighs being heightened. His hands continued down my thighs, but to my dismay he didn’t try to part my legs. He continued caressing me, with his mouth now sucking on my nipples and kissing my highly sensitised breasts. I couldn’t help letting some moans escape over my lips. This was slow and exquisite torture that I’d never been able to envisage before this moment. He continued down and he kissed the naked mound at the top of my thighs. Then he parted my legs. He looked up at me and I met his gaze. I didn’t need to say anything. He knew that I wanted this. He kissed me lightly on the insides of my thighs. His beard tickled my slit as he got closer and then he gave me the most intimate kiss a man can give to a woman. With his lips on mine he slowly slid his tongue through and into my virgin hole. I gasped with pleasure. If I hadn’t been there I wouldn’t have believed that a man could provide such bliss with his tongue. I was already wet down there and I could feel him lapping up my juices like a hungry cat. When I thought it couldn’t get any better his lips closed in on my clit and started sucking on it, while his tongue was flicking across it. I was tossing myself from side to side on the bed, unable to lie still and enjoy what he was doing with me, but his hands kept a firm grasp of my hips. He was in control of my satisfaction and he made sure I knew it. Slowly, slowly he picked up the pace. He moved his tongue expertly between my clit and my hole, each time tickling and teasing me with his beard. My panting got louder. I was pulling at the sheet. Then finally I had to give in. The bliss of my first orgasm possessed my body. I cried out my passion for him and my body convulsed while he kept performing those miracles with his tongue. As I slowly calmed down he climbed up and kissed me. I could smell and taste myself on his lips and beard and I returned his kiss with fervour. I had never felt like this before. My hands ran across his upper body, down to his hips and then I stopped. Malik looked up from kissing me and took my hand. He placed it on his now fully erect member and made me stroke it. It was so smooth and hard. I was sure it was at least 9 inches and it looked very thick. Its size scared me. “It’s alright,” he whispered against my lips. “It’s supposed to be that big. You will be able to take it all and it will be wonderful.” I wanted to believe him. I wanted to give myself to him, to give him the most precious gift I had. He continued kissing me and caressing me. With his lips against mine he let his hands loose on my body. He didn’t miss an inch of my naked skin that was now burning for him. Slowly he managed to awake the hunger that had temporarily been satisfied with his tongue, only now it returned with a vengeance. It was more demanding than before. Only one thing would satisfy me now. We both knew it. “Please, take me, Malik,” I panted. “I’m yours.” He placed himself between my thighs. He kept kissing me and his hard cock was between us, putting pressure on my naked pussy. As his hands kneaded my breasts I responded to him by slowly grinding my hips against his engorged member. For a long time we lay like that and then he tore his mouth from mine. Neither of us spoke. His eyes were asking a question and my eyes were answering. With his lips back on mine and his hands on my breasts he lifted his hips so that his cock fell between my thighs. Then he slowly lowered his hips again, letting his cock apply pressure to my soaking slit and then popping the pre-cum moistened head inside me. I gasped in shock at his size, but he stopped and let me adjust. Then he continued sliding in slowly until he came to a stop. He stayed there for minutes and kept kissing and caressing me. Without warning he then pushed sharply forward, breaking my hymen and making me cry out in agony. His weight was completely on me and he kissed away my tears until the pain ebbed away and was replaced by desire. He had me, now I wanted all of him. He started rocking in and out of me. With long, deliberate strokes he filled me and then withdrew again. Each time he thrust himself inside me he applied pressure to my clit, making me moan louder and louder. Slowly he picked up the pace of his thrusts, as our breathing got heavier. Then he made a quick break to hook my legs across his shoulders. He was now getting even deeper inside me. He fit me perfectly, like a hand in a very tight glove. Every thrust got harder and more deliberate and still he slammed into my clit, applying that pressure to keep it teased and keep the lightning rods shooting through the pit of my stomach. The sweat on his forehead dripped on me as he leaned forward to kiss me and his lips lingered on mine as I returned his kiss. Then I felt myself shivering. I knew it wasn’t long to go. Malik must have felt the same because he picked up the pace further, burying himself deep inside my hungry pussy with each stroke. Then my pussy tightened around him and I cried out my hunger and passion for him. My whole body was shaking in his arms and then he drove himself as deep as he could and with a roar he let himself cum, shooting his first load deep inside of me. We collapsed in each other’s arms and we didn’t speak for a long time. We just kissed and concentrated on caressing each other’s faces and catching our breath. Then he leaned across me and told me it was time to sleep. He turned off the light and gathered me in his arms where I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When I woke up the following morning Malik was standing in front of me in a robe. He told me that the bath had been drawn for me and that breakfast would soon be served. Salma appeared out of nowhere to take care of my bath and dry my hair. If she noticed the little bruises that were scattered all over my body she didn’t say anything. I’m sure she took them for what they were, remnants of a passionate wedding night. I looked at them with sadness. My life should be perfect now. I was married to an unbelievably wealthy man who was tied to me for the rest of his life. Yet he had only married me out of honour. He didn’t love me. How long was this going to last? Sooner or later he would get tired of having sex with me and seek satisfaction from his harem. Salma dressed me in a dressing gown that matched Malik’s and I entered the breakfast room as his mother came in. She and her ever present ladies went straight to the bedroom and they came back with the sheet tucked firmly under Malik’s mother’s arm. She kissed her son’s cheeks and walked up to me. We both hesitated for a moment, but then she smiled a big smile and kissed me all over my face. She let out a stream of Arabic words and then she disappeared again, the sheet still tucked under her arm. “She says she is sure that Allah will bless our holy union by making my virgin bride pregnant with our first son on our honeymoon,” Malik translated and chuckled as I blushed. “What’s the matter?” he teased. “Do you not want to carry your husband’s son under your heart?” I smiled back, but I felt worried. What was going to happen to me? If I was barren or only had daughters I’d be cast aside like Malik’s first two wives. And my sons… They’d be born to a woman who’d been forced into marriage with a man who didn’t love her. I was starting to recognise my feelings for him as love, but all he felt for me was lust. I was an exciting new plaything for him. I felt so lonely. I longed for someone that I could talk to, someone who could understand how I felt. We finished our breakfast in silence and then Malik made some phone calls while the table was being cleared. Salma still hadn’t showed up to dress me and I was wondering how to get to my apartment where all my clothes were. Malik hung up the phone and walked up to me and kissed me passionately. “The rest of the day is just for you and me,” he whispered. “I’ve told my staff to leave us alone until we ask for dinner to be served.” I must have looked as shocked as I felt because he laughed. “It is normal for a husband and wife to want to be alone for a couple of days after their wedding, especially when the wife is as ripe as my mother said you were. They will all have seen the bloodstained sheet by now and it will be filed for the future, should your virtue ever be questioned again.” My blush turned ever more crimson. I didn’t feel comfortable with all these strangers knowing these personal details about me. “A virgin blushes, but a wife need not feel ashamed for being loved by her husband,” Malik said and caressed my neck with his lips. His hands caressed my arms and my robe fell in a heap on the floor. Malik let his robe fall and stood in front of me. My eyes were drawn to his cock like a magnet and he smiled at me. “My darling Jamilah,” he said and caressed my breast. “I would be honoured if you would take me in your mouth.” I must have looked shocked because he laughed and kissed me. “I will not do anything to hurt you, and all my sperm will always be released in your innermost hiding place, but I gave you pleasure with my mouth last night and I would enjoy it if you would give me the same pleasure back.” I kneeled before him without a word. He was right. I owed it to him. I took his cock in my hand and kissed it, tasting his salty precum for the first time. Then I ran my tongue along his veins and I could hear him gasp and feel him grow harder in my hand. “Put it in your mouth and suck on it, my love,” Malik said, breathlessly. I licked my lips and opened them wide. I let his cock slide over my tongue and closed my lips around it. I took him as deep as I could and then I sucked hard. He felt wonderful in my mouth. I’d always been put off by the thought of giving oral sex, but now that I felt my husband’s hard meat in my mouth, knowing that I had made him that hard, I felt tingles spreading between my thighs and I couldn’t wait to feel him deep inside me again. He started moving his hips back and forth. His hands were in my hair, gently pushing him deeper into my throat. He moaned out loud as he got deeper inside my hungry mouth. Then he pulled out and pulled me up into his arm and kissed me hungrily and deeply. “Your mouth is so sweet, I was afraid I couldn’t hold back any longer,” he whispered to me. “A man can cum in the mouth of his concubine, but he should never reduce his wife to such a state. Come to bed with me.” The thought of his harem scared me temporarily, but one look at his eyes and the hard member that stood proud from his hips and I knew that it was I and only I who was satisfying him now. He lay down on his back and motioned for me to straddle him. As I did, he grabbed hold of my hips and slowly guided my pussy into a position right over his engorged cock. He ran a finger across my slit, slipping inside to feel the wetness that awaited him. He parted my lips and slowly let me down, engulfing his cock with my tightness. I was more prepared for his size this time, but I could still feel him stretching me as he inched me down, filling me with his thick shaft. When he was completely inside me he let go of my hips and reached up for my breasts. He played with them with his hands and kissed the pink peaks repeatedly. My throbbing pussy was slowly adjusting to him and I soon felt a new wave or hunger. Having him inside me was no longer enough. I wanted more. He must have sensed this and he started moving his hips up and down. I soon caught on and started moving my hips with his, feeling him slide out and then back inside me again. I could feel his eyes watching his member disappearing inside me over and over and I smiled at him. I was loving this as well. He completed me in a way I’d never thought possible. Our breathing got heavier and our hips moved faster. Then Malik pulled me off him and he helped me down on my hands and knees. He got in position behind me and quickly pushed his wet cock deep inside me again. He was even deeper. He filled me even more. As he slammed into me at an ever increasing pace he cupped my breasts and pulled me up against his chest. Still rocking in and out of me he was kissing my neck and caressing my breasts. He then moved a finger down to my pussy and caressed my clit. I was so ready. I was so fulfilled by our union that it was all it took to send me over the hill. I cried out his name and felt my tight hole squeezing his swollen shaft tight. He needed no further encouragement. With a loud groan he started shooting his sperm into my waiting womb. I had a second wave of orgasm as I felt him emptying his load inside me. We collapsed in a heap on the bed. With his hands still on my breasts he kissed the back of my head and whispered to me. “I love you, Jamilah. One of these days I hope you will not just desire me, but truly love me back.” I turned around and looked into his black eyes. “I love you Malik.” “Enough to try this again and again until you get pregnant?” he asked with a smile. “And what about when I’m pregnant?” I asked carefully. “Then we invent new ways of satisfying each other until our son is born.” “And what if it’s a daughter?” “Then we just have to practise some more.” We practised a lot during our honeymoon. He gave me immeasurable satisfaction that evoked further hunger. We couldn’t get enough of each other’s bodies. Sadly, time came when he had to start working again. I then received the greatest honour he could bestow upon me. He had my belongings moved to the suite adjoining his, an honour only given to a very favourite wife. He visited me every night and we made love for hours. A month after our wedding he pulled me into his arms while we were still shaking from the effects of our joint orgasms. “We have been married a month and you have not yet bled,” he said and looked into my eyes. I smiled at him. “That’s correct.” “Does this mean that you are carrying my second son?” “Your mother had the doctor check me today and he says I’m pregnant. I cannot guarantee that it’s going to be a boy.” Malik hugged me tight. “With the love that we’ve shared, how can it be any other?” Several months later as I handed my newborn son to his father he smiled at me and winked. He sat down next to me and kissed me. “I told you so,” he whispered. “You did,” I said contently, happy to admit defeat. “Now how quickly can we get started on making a sister for this handsome young man?” If I’d needed any proof I knew then that I was the wife of his heart. Not even when I was big and couldn’t get comfortable in bed had he strayed to his harem. Now he was acknowledging my wish for a daughter. I couldn’t wait to start practising again.