I was once a concubine

The Blue eyed Azeen
In the late 1970’s I was in my mid twenties and a precocious, slim, and very narcissistic boy who dressed whenever possible as a girl. I had a regular stream of boyfriends and had regular affairs on occasions breaking hearts with the casualness of youth.
In 1976 I found work in the Middle East and had rented a flat in Cyprus, which I used as a base to travel around to other Middle Eastern countries. I can’t say what I worked at but it was fairly mundane and not very special, but one of the advantages was that although for work I was dressed as a male I had large amounts of time when I could dress as my other me which was Andrea.
What the job did entail was a fantastic opportunity to travel around to countries including: Egypt, Syria, Turkey and Lebanon. Either flying out of Larnaca airport in Cyprus or taking the ferries or hydrofoil that went over to Beirut.
These were difficult times for the Middle East, a state, which only ever seems to wax and wane over the years and now as ever, is scarred with war and tensions. I quickly learnt to love the whole region and its people, who are perhaps the most hospitable and welcoming I have met anywhere. I was at the time mainly based in Nicosia Cyprus and it was while I was at a party in Nicosia one night that I was introduced to Assad.
I was 26 and an effeminate English male who regularly dressed as a girl and Assad was a 49 year old married Syrian businessman, albeit a very successful one. He had a wife and large family living in a beautiful house in Geneva and he had two houses in Syria one outside Damascus in the middle class area and another older modest Damascene type house he had inherited in the centre of old Damascus.
We were introduced at the party that was held by a woman friend of mine who was well connected with members of the United Nations and local businessman and acted as a sort of match-maker for various business contacts. She was delightful, in her late forties and very glamorous and had taken something of a shine to me and introduced me to the local international society that was based in Nicosia.
Once the introduction was made Assad shook my hand quite gently and held onto it longer than was necessary on a first meeting, all the while gazing into my eyes. I was slightly taken aback but found his attention rather mesmerising. As the wine flowed, I found myself locked in intense conversation, my antenna picked up something from this very jovial middle aged man, my instincts told me I was being chatted up, he clearly fancied me and was chatting me up as a man would do to a girl, with all the gestures and soft voices and the listening intently to my replies. His hand kept touching my forearm or was gently held around the middle of my back for a moment all as part of the dance of this flirtatious conversation.
We went out onto the balcony of the apartment and a moment came when he put an arm around me, in what looked like a cheerful manly way.... then, using the hand that was now resting on my shoulder, his fingers gently caught my earlobe and very softly rubbed the skin between his finger and thumb. The effect was intensely erotic and intimate and a live current seemed to connect straight to my crotch.
At that moment I knew he wanted me as a lover, and his eyes were looking at my eyes with that slow warm intensity that is the colour of lust. I felt my heart thumping and my mind was cascading through ideas such as was this to be a quick one night stand and how was his attraction for me going to translate into a physical relationship.
The party went on and we wandered down the stairs without any seeming purpose until we were in the large communal garden at the rear of the flat, which was full of mimosa trees and some dried tall, clumps of serrated edge cacti. The night was hot and the sky a dark velvet black, peppered with the pinprick lights of stars.
We spoke in hushed voices as he slowly unfolded more details about himself and his life, his business interests, his house in Switzerland, all the while his face close to mine so I could feel his warm breath on my cheek...His hand moved up my back under the damp cotton of my shirt, his fingers tracing languorous lines up the curve of my spine, making little sensual tingles fill my head.
In all my time with him, one thing that stands out so strongly in my memory was, apart from being a delightful man, he was a supreme lover. His skills went beyond normal sex and entered the realm where he could make your body tense and arched then relax, before bringing showers of little drops of ecstasy over my whole torso, making you on the verge of a slow burning, languorous orgasm. Except that he would wait until the moment was right, then let you release everything in synchronisation with his own body and in time with his own pleasure.
Finally that evening and in a way that surprised me, he held my face in his hands and very slowly kissed my lips. It was an astonishing kiss, he seemed to be drawing my physicality to concentrate in the sensitive area of my lips and tongue and as his tongue gently darted through my lips, I felt as if I was in that wonderful state just before an cumming. Only I was standing in front of him my arms hanging loosely at my sides, as he carried on kissing me and this time shifted both hands from my face to my rear and gently cupped my jeans covered buttocks and massaged my flesh with his fingers through the coarse material as he pulled me tightly into his embrace.
I was by now wet between the legs and I mean wet as my pre-cum was flowing and creating a spreading stain at the front of my jeans. I was to say the least hooked and entranced by this unassuming man who had crept into my being in such a short time.
From that day our affair started and it was very passionate and fun and lively and energetic and hot. But this experience was about a specific night that has seared itself into my memory for combining all my senses and sexuality into something unique and unforgettable .
We had been seeing each other about a month but bizarrely had not had any full sexual union, just kissing and fondling and caressing, although that was so intense that on one occasion I was sitting next to him in an old Mercedes taxi on the way home from a meal in a restaurant and his hand rested on my thigh.... very suddenly and without warning I had an orgasm. It was a shock, as I felt the blood rush to my face and the warm feel of my cum filled my pants, and with a strangled breathless voice I urgently whispered to him to give me a handkerchief. He produced a large fresh white linen cloth, which I hurriedly stuffed down the front of my jeans to stem the flow and prevent me from having an embarrassing wet patch. So the sexual tension was very high and I was desperate for him to take me.
We had a long series of conversations about me dressing and his interest became immediately intense and keen. I gave him some copies of photos I had of me in various outfits which had been taken back in London by a boyfriend. He explained that it was his ultimate desire deep inside him to have a girl who was a boy and to have her in his bed. We immediately decided that we should do something reckless and different something special when he would finally take me to his bed and fill me.
A week later he said he had everything arranged and that I was to go to his house in Damascus. He warned me to dress soberly and arranged for a car to collect me from Lattaki on the coast where I arrived after a relatively quick boat crossing.
I felt deeply excited by the trip, both emotionally and sexually as I knew we would be alone in his house for three days, so would be playing his special game whatever that was, as he had said I would only discover what was in store as the journey unfolded.
It was also a heady romantic venture in a strange land, with me as the object of desire. I knew from his careful briefings that we had to be careful as Syria was and still is a strict conservative and religious country where Homosexuality was illegal and although men were publicly physically very close, much more so than a western city, a trans-sexuality was basically off the scale and had to be indulged behind firmly closed and locked doors.
Even so, I brought with me a large make-up bag and some simple pretty outfits, some pretty lingerie and two long decent human hair wigs, that were black and fell to below my shoulders and partially down my back. They had been given to me by an old friend in London who was a hairdresser and were very high quality.
I had cut my hair elfin-short, as it was too hot to wear long, as I usually did. I was fit and smoothed skinned and had managed a fair amount of naked sunbathing on the flat roof of my apartment in Cyprus, so I had a nice all over brown tanned, shaved body that was lithe, firm and slim.
A car with a driver had collected me and we drove through the hot late afternoon to Damascus. All the way the driver had a local radio station, playing traditional Levantine music with the swirling answering voices and the rise and fall of an Arab orchestra. I was hot and looked through the window at the trucks and general traffic driving past and began to feel myself sinking into another world.
we arrived finally at the entrance to his house at about 7.00pm after snaking through numerous back streets and pushing pedestrians out of the way so no one was crushed but ebbed and flowed around the circumference of the car, I glimpsed men in plain Abayas and women in full long dark gowns with scarves round their heads rather than the full hijab. It was like being in a hot cocoon surrounded by a swirling river of humanity all carrying packages or bags or cloth and all busy and all flowing around me.
From the outside I thought we had arrived at a slum. The taxi had squeezed through back streets that were built on a road plan 6000 years old. The door was short and made of old wood reinforced and covered in metal studs. I knocked and almost immediately Assad was there opening the door and pulling my bag inside. And what an inside it was. The house was like a hidden treasure, with an open central courtyard, with a high sided pool and all around, leading of the central square, were connected rooms lined with wood panelling and hung with low heavily ornate lamps, with jewelled apertures that let beams of coloured light fall over the painted stone walls.
It was like a tiny palace and as though I had stepped into a quiet pool of utter tranquillity. Assad led me by the hand as he proudly took me through room after room all of which had marbled patterned floors and large Persian rugs and low slung wooden benches and seats covered in cushions. It was utterly delightful, exotic and homely all at once and clearly built some many years ago
while I was being shown around, a small man in a long caftan appeared and took my case. He was Assad’s house- man and he looked after the house when he was away and prepared food when he was entertaining or on his own. I learnt later that he trusted him in a unique way as he has clearly witnessed things which must have seemed pretty blasphemous in his eyes, until Assad told me that he had his own ‘particular interests’! which balanced the judgment between them and bound them together in a sort of confidentiality bond!
After a wonderful dinner of mixed lamb dishes with yoghurt, and roast vegetables, we talked. I had not had any opportunity to ‘dress’ for Assad when he was visiting me in Cyprus and While he told me that in his wildest dreams he saw me in a short dress or skirt with long dark hair and heels looking flirtatious and coquettish... inviting him to make a play for me..... it so far had only been in his mind’s eye and I hoped the next three days were going to change that and allow me to appear to him as he had dreamed.
Before we had parted before my trip to Damascus he had kissed me long and hard his tongue gently feeling my mouth and kissing my eyelids. He suddenly declared that he had decided to give me a special name, his blue-eyed Azeen. He said that this way I brought together his world and my world... in me as his dark haired but blue eyed girl.
The name had a strange effect on me making me feel very feminine and disconnected from my old life in London.
That night after dinner, he took me to a separate bedroom and when I showed suprise and a little shock that he was leaving me alone, he smiled and held his index finger to my lips.
“Azeen” he said “We have waited, or at least I have waited some weeks for this time together and tomorrow will be very special, so for tonight I will leave the sweet object of my desire on her own.... by tomorrow however you will have been joined with me.” With that he held me very tight and we kissed for an age, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths and I felt a hardening in his groin pushed against my belly.... then as if doubting his self control, he suddenly left me in the high ceilinged room with the large double bed made-up with fresh linen sheets and a large fan in the ceiling gently moving the air around me.
There was a small room next to the bedroom with a toilet and a tiny bath and against one wall, a large cabinet filled with oils, soaps and perfumes. I washed slowly and carefully using one of the soft washing cloths, then moisturised my skin from the glass jars that smelt like jasmine and after exploring the dark wooden cupboard that ran along one of the bedroom walls I found a selection of wonderful gowns, some short and some long with low necks with exquisite embroidery in brightly coloured threads around the neck and sleeves. I eventually chose a long white robe and rubbed some of the fragrant perfumed oil into my skin and climbed alone into the bed, not really knowing what to think but feeling very sexually aroused. The air was hot and only now could I hear the distant sound of the city like a distant party whose noise and bustle was like an echo, after passing through the thick stone walls.
That night I dreamt of Scherazade and dark knights of the Caliphs, with almond eyed men reaching out and feeling my thighs and neck.... at one point I was on my back held up in the arms of a multitude of men, feeling twenty strong hands hold me gently and at the same time caress and investigate the curves and orifices of my body.
In the morning a skylight let a coloured pattern in bright sunlight, shine onto the white linen sheets of the bed and I woke, stretched luxuriously and after looking at the wall clock realised it was quite late in the morning. The door opened and in came Assad’s servant, bearing a tray which he set down in front of me on the bed. The tray smelt wonderful and had a small silver pot of hot water, a tiny jug with thick Arab coffee surrounded by plates jumbled with water melon slices and grapes, slices of orange and a bowl of yoghurt.
He then took a small hot wet towel and holding my chin gently washed my face. It was both refreshing and very sensual and I found myself giving myself up to be washed, like an obedient young girl. It was subtle but quite strong and made me strangely submissive.
I ate my breakfast which was exquisite, then threw back the sheet and went into the small bathroom. I took of my nightgown and was standing naked, when suddenly Assad’s servant was at my side again. This time I was slightly taken aback and felt slightly embarrassed, my hands instinctively covered my crotch and strangely, without thinking, my nipples! but he was seemingly very much in charge and proceeded to fill the bath with hot water from an old electric wall heater, till the room began to get humid even in the heat of Damascus. With no words his hand gently but firmly clasped my body and made me stand in the bath. First of all he washed my face again... then to my alarm lathered my face and with a shiny cut-throat razor shaved me slowly and carefully, giving me the smoothest shave I had ever had.
Then he lathered my body gently soaping my legs and thighs, then my back and then working his way round to my buttocks. I was now standing in the small bathtub covered in lather while his hands expertly both washed and massaged my skin. I was now beginning to get aroused again and his hand went deeper into the cleft of my buttocks whilst his other hand gently stroked me on my belly. Then, with the soap easing the way, his finger became more penetrating and in a moment he had invaded my slippery pussy hole, making me give a sudden intake of breath as my body was opened to his long probing fingers. And I felt myself sway slightly as I lost my self to his hand completely. He was smiling at me while between heavy eyelids I stood naked, with my thigh spread with my firm rear, opened and held by his hand.
He withdrew his fingers and I sank back into the water feeling very aroused and dreamy. He continued to wash me massaging my neck and shoulder and soaping every part of me as if I was some delicate child.
I was then helped up and out of the bath and dried and a fresh gown was brought for me. He opened one of the glass bottles and after rubbing oil onto his hands, more perfumed oil was rubbed into my skin, this time not by me but by the expert hands of my attendant.
I had no underwear, as my dresser had literally dressed me and he had chosen what I recognised was a very sumptuous woman’s dress or rather long gown, worn only by the ‘high born’ woman. I loved it and with my feet in gold sandals with upturned toes and little gold tassels I felt very regal and feminine.
I was led to a table in the courtyard, where all my make-up had been neatly laid out on a dark mauve cloth and on the table a large mirror in a wooden frame showed my brown face looking fresh and clean and ready to be painted.
I learnt that Assad had got up early and was off in the city dealing with some business. This information was given to me in very broken English, with a few misunderstandings on the way. So I then spent a happy half an hour shaping my nails, applying thick rings of cole around my eyes with a subtle gray eye shadow and a pale red lipstick.
Finally I was ready, I took one of the long dark wigs and brushed and set it carefully, so I now looked like an Arab princess perhaps, too tall but certainly I was pleased with the overall effect.
I then spent the rest of the day in a sort of slightly dazed state wandering around the house and looking at its treasures. The main living room was covered in carved wooden panels which almost went to the ceiling; there were highly stylised carvings of antelopes and small birds obviously some two or three hundred years old. All around were wonderful Persian, Turkmen and Afghan carpets, soft to walk on and filled with glorious patterns made from the tightly woven wool and silk threads.
The day gently unfolded and I was a little disappointed that my lover had left me in his house albeit being treated like a princess, but still I would have preferred to have his hands around me and his lips kissing me.
At five o clock he came home and I quickly went to the front door and as his servant opened it, I curtsied low to him, I’m not sure why I did this, as it was very uncharacteristic but after a day like I had spent I felt like some young bride welcoming her husband home and it felt like the most natural thing to do.
He was delighted to see me and held me at arm’s length for what seemed like five minutes just looking me all over with his eyes and beaming and chuckling at me. He was obviously very happy with what he saw and he led me back into the living room for coffee.
Fist he apologised for leaving me all day alone but said he could not get out of the meeting that day; it was unplanned and involved meetings with government representatives, so he had had no choice. He then began to tell me about his plans for the evening. And my eyes began to widen and what lay in store.
He told me that this evening he was going to hold a very private party for two of his very old and select friends. And he hoped that i would be willing to be the entertainment for them. I was amused at what appeared to be a potentially interesting scenario unfolding as he spoke! He wanted me to dress as a belly dancer and dance for his guests during the evening. I interrupted him to say that I had never done a belly dance before but again he hushed me and explained that his servant would teach me the basics and certainly enough to enchant his guests.
I sensed that he wanted to show me off to some of his old cronies but by now the idea of dancing and trying to arouse three middle-aged Arab men, was in my current state of mind, a very exciting prospect.
After further light chat I was taken again by his servant back to my bedroom where laid out o the bed was a belly dancing costume. I noticed immediately a small gold front embroidered G-string covered in small gold coins. There was a diaphanous skirt, completely transparent and split into four soft panels. There was a gorgeous coin encrusted gold bra and a large sort of hip belt from which hung long gold chains with a gold coin at the end of each. With the outfit were a collection of gold armlets and ankle chains and a large gold transparent scarf with ties for my fingers.
I undressed and put on a small pair of briefs and a bra with bare feet and Assad’s servant took my by the hand and we went into a heavily carpeted room that was dimly lit and in one corner was an old valve gramophone player.
I was placed in the centre of the carpets and he switched on the player, waited patiently for it to warm up then placed the players arm onto an LP record. Immediately the room filled with the sweeping sound of an Arab orchestra and percussion and He took my hand and started to tap out the beat on my wrist.
Amazingly the man turned out to be an excellent dancer and within an hour I had managed to match the music with the sway of my hips and undulating my pelvis, so my bottom began to slip and slide suggestively in time to the beats. I moved sideways from foot to foot swaying my hips, then swivelling gently so I had my back to my imagined audience. I held my arms up and used them to swirl the scarf around me, holding it in front of my face, then letting it drop slowly down my front while twitching my hips and holding my weight on my thighs for a moment before swinging my body to one side. OK it wasn’t perfect by any means but I got the smile of approval from Assad’s servant and I felt that at least I now had a clue as to how to move my body like a harem girl and give these guys some sort of a show that might stiffen their groins and catch their dark warm eyes.
Assad said that I would eat first, before the guests arrived and then I was to wait in an ante-room until he clapped his hands which would be my cue to come in and perform. Normally I would have found such a request demeaning and stupid and flounced out a denial or refusal, but instead I felt that I had shifted myself a long way away from my normal everyday world and had become another creature, a female creature who did as she was bid with lowered eyelids and a gentle sway of the body to silently signal that I was available to my man and master.
I was taken away and again bathed by his servant and shaved, only this time what I didn’t realise is that the shaving was to be much more intimate than just my face. I was gently laid on a heap of towels with my skin softened with oil. My attendant gently but firmly pushed my legs apart, so I was on my face with my rump in the air exposing my most intimate parts to his gaze. He rubbed oil around the soft skin between my legs and then with a safety razor began to shave my off my pudenda, paying close attention to the sac and the area that ran between the balls and my pussy hole.
When he had careful washed off the residue of oil, I explored myself with my hands and felt my soft smooth skin that surrounded my open pussy. The sense of nakedness was strange, as I had opened myself so intimately with this strange servant of my lover. I had only known him a day and he had a somewhat more intimate knowledge of my body than many of my previous lovers had ever gained!
Then the tempo moved up a pace and two people arrived and were let in I didn’t see them as I was sitting naked in front of my mirror in the bedroom squeezing my nipples and practising my pout. I learnt later that they were from a sort of select caterer and were delivering the dinner that was to be served that evening and at which I appeared to become the dessert.
But now a slow transformation began, I was clean and soft and ready, I began my make-up under the watchful eyes of my servant and in my mind I decided to call him Sally, perhaps inappropriate, but for me it felt right even though he spoke no English and I only a smattering of Arabic. He seemed to fix on every move of the brush as I applied a light dusting of foundation followed by my dark eye shadow
And long slow moves of the mascara brush, having placed neat black lines of cole around both my eyes. Every now and then he would take the brush or crayon from my hand and very gently and with a rock steady hand, adjust or perfect something I had applied.
At the end I was looking at an olive skinned girl with large dark eyes and large plump dark red lips staring back at me out of the mirror. Sally then made me dress in my dancer’s costume. With the small gold panties followed by the gold chained hip belt that created a cascade of soft diaphanous materials and a cascade of thing gold chains intertwined with small gold coins. My bra was an intricate piece that combined lingerie, engineering, jewellery and showbusiness. I put on my long black wig and secured it tightly with hidden hair clasps.
I brushed it slowly through till it fell in soft regular curls down over my shoulders. Finally I attached the matching gold tiara-styled head band to top me off. Sally then began to cover me in jewellery and as he applied the wrist bands and finger and toe rings that this was not paste jewellery but real gold and precious gems. I was slightly taken aback and watched in awe as I was festooned in what must have been a good few thousand pounds of antique gold Syrian jewellery! Finally Sally took a milky coloured precious moonstone in a gold setting and applied a little sticky paste from a jar and gently pushed it into my belly button.
He held my hands in his and gently pulled me up to stand in front of him and pulled my hand to make me twirl for him so he could check his handiwork. The large smile on his face, revealing two large gold teeth, told me that he thought I would do for his master’s pleasure.
I was then led to a small anteroom by a route that meant I was hidden from view from the diners. But as I moved, I jangled and jingled with all the gold coins around my hips and chest creating the sound of millions of tiny bells. They might not have been able to see me but they must have heard me coming in the next room and I wondered what they were thinking, or expecting, if anything. I had no idea what my lover had told them or in all truth what he had in mind. What I did know is that as I sat on cushions, my back upright, my gold outfit glinting in the lamplight that I felt more sexually aroused than I could ever remember being before. I had been lucky to have some wonderful sex with men who were imaginative and kind and had had multiple orgasms with some of them but this was different. I sat feeling excited and vulnerable and empowered all at the same time. I had never felt so somehow physically perfect, It seemed as though my skin was glowing and all my limbs seemed for once to be in perfect unison with each other. Between my legs I was flaccid but still deeply excited and aroused and as I sat there my eyes caught the fluttering of an enormous moth that had got into the room and awakened by the soft lamp light, was fluttering its large powdery wings around the light while I sat entranced and perhaps also a little bewitched.
Then suddenly I heard a low murmur of laughter from the next room and a loud sudden handclap.
My moment had arrived, I had to now go and perform for my master and lover.
His blue eyed Azeen was ready.

I slowly entered the room my head looking down and moved to the centre of the large Persian carpet that covered the centre of the floor. I looked up for a moment to get a measure of my audience. My Assad was sitting in the middle, wearing the traditional Arab male Kaftan and smoking a short cigar, on either side of him were his two friends and companions, similarly dressed, who were around the same age, their mid-forties and each had olive skin and dark brown eyes and friendly warm faces that were wearing eager expressions. Assad had clearly promised them something special and the air was filled with a sort of electric tension that was palpable. They all three sat cross-legged on the floor and a few plates from their dinner were sitting on a giant tray on one side. They had all been smoking and the atmosphere was hazy and the lamplight made it seem vague and diffuse.
For a moment I was caught wondering what to do..... I looked down at my bare feet with the brightly painted red toenails, hearing the soft jingling of the coins that draped my thighs and wasn’t sure quite how to start. I looked up and saw that Sally had taken up position behind them and he nodded to me. He then reached out and the record player set on a wooden stand suddenly began to make a gentle crackling sound as the needle slowly spun along the vinyl disc.
Now music poured out of the speaker and 40 Arab musicians were suddenly playing out a hot romantic song and the rhythm started.
I cleared my mind and concentrated on my hips, matching the rhythm and very slowly swaying until I was locked into the timing of the music. As I moved, my arms and legs shaking my torso and gently flicking my hips outwards, my coins adding a background shimmering to the music and my body becoming more sensually relaxed. I now started to look at my audience in the eyes and my dancing became more and more flirtatious. I was becoming turned on by their rapt expressions and in my rising animal heat I felt a thought flash through my mind about what I wondered was lurking beneath their kaftans? Was I exciting them? Were their cocks beginning to swell and loll around over their large ball sacs?
Now at last I could play, I danced in circles coming closer to them with each circuit, until my large gossamer veil was brushing their flushed cheeks and my thighs flashed inches away from their eyes. I also realised that I wasn’t exactly sure what I was to do! Assad had only said I was to dance for them but I sensed that more was involved and my rising sensuousness and sexual arousal was taking over my mind and body. I began to see myself as the great female temptresses from the 1001 nights who satisfied their men with their bodies and hypnotised their masters and lords with their erotic dancing and love-making!
I gently spun around and lowered my body with one leg stretched out while taking my weight on the other. My thigh was a few inches above the ground and directly in front of Assad. His hand reached slowly out as I gazed at him from behind my veil and using the tips of his fingers he ran his hand along the underside of my stretched and taut thigh. The sensation was exquisite and I closed my eyes and imagined the route his hand was taking, sure enough his first three finger tips came closer to the space between my legs, they paused then moved closer to my pussy encased in the shiny material of my belly dancers panties. The fingers then moved under the edge of the panties and ran in slow circular movements around the soft skinned entrance to my pussy. I bit my lip as the most wonderful sensations ran through my thighs and into my belly.
Then I felt another hand this time in the small of my back, tracing imaginary lines on my skin and making me shiver with a deep-seated eroticism. Clearly Assad’s move had been a signal for both his companions who were leaning closer to my smooth body and their hands reached out to explore my limbs. I was now breathing hard and lost my balance tipping forward onto my hands which were palm down on the thick woollen surface of the antique carpet I had been dancing on.
I regained my composure slightly and elegantly slid myself around so I was facing them with one legs still stretched out but my torso was no upright.
Assad’s finger left my skin for a moment, but I then felt his hands gently hold my face and pull my mouth towards his and I could taste him and his hot kiss and return the pushing tongue that was tasting my mouth. As he kissed me, so his companion’s hands became more urgent and my legs and thighs and buttocks were continually caressed, with my shifting my position slightly, every so often, to allow them better access to some part of my body.
My dancer’s panties were now tightening as my own sex swelled and filled the soft material; I was becoming more and more lustful and turned on than I could ever remember. I felt lips as well as fingers on my skin now as their own arousal took hold of them making them more urgent and bold in their advances towards me.
I reached out with and pulled up the front of Assad’s Kaftan and quickly found my hand gripping a large and jutting phallus I pulled away from his kiss and buried his cock into my mouth gripping the shaft tightly with my lips. I moved my fingers around the stem of his cock and played with the swollen ball sac whilst flicking under the head of his cock head with my tongue and concentrating on that tiny patch of skin where the round plum shaped underside of the phallus connected to the shaft and where the sex nerves concentrated to create a point of enormous arousal.
I had now become so turned on I was shaking and I could feel tremors running down my belly and into the core of my spine I felt like a bitch dog on heat who presents her vulva to any passing male encouraging them with her female musk and putting on display the opening that was desperate to be filled.
I pulled away from my small crowd of seething limbs and as the music still pounded out the beat, I twirled around, whilst Assad leant back on his arms, his long cock pointing upwards out of the dark hair of his crotch, the head , purple and shiny and ready.
I gathered up the skirts of my costume, jingling my myriad of coins as I did so but at the same time I had left my legs and buttocks clear. I twitched my hips and made small steps in time to the music until I was standing over his upright rod. I then kept my body moving in time to the beat and with one hand pulled aside the gold gusset of the panties revealing my pussy hole. The other hand I fastened tight onto his cock and lowering my torso slowly until I could get the tip of his phallus to brush against the soft concave entrance to my sex. I kept up the movement knowing that the sensitive tip was being excited and keeping him hard whilst using the steady trickle of pre-cum that oozed out of the dark eye in the tip to lubricate my hole. Then I could hold back no more, I had to be skewered... to be filled and penetrated on his flesh and feel the muscles of his legs and back help push himself deep inside me.
I felt the sudden filling of my body, that wonderful deep internal stretching as the tight puckered entrance was forced open to allow the engorged purple head to force it into a widening O shape around him. I felt every ridge and detail of this large rod entering me and the sudden tightening as the head passed my tight muscle ring and forged ahead making my sheath open progressively to the possessing male sex.
I was in heaven and my rump pushed down onto his lap, so his belly slapped against the soft skin between my legs and I felt the reverberations of his pumping movement shake the firm flesh of my buttocks, making them shudder with each thrust.
We were now locked in our animal humping and pulsing and his two friends eager to join in and taste my body came closer to our two heaving shapes. I had my eyes closed as I concentrated on the hot fire pounding my insides and did not see the new fat penis that was guided carefully to my lips making me open my mouth and close my crimson lips around the head.
At the same moment, the other dinner guest had reached between my belly and Assad’s stomach and had managed to pull down the front of my gold pants and set free my own jutting sex. He settled himself alongside us on the carpet and carefully pushed his head between us. A warm mouth took the tip of my phallus into its wet confines and his tongue played on the end of my own little clit, eagerly sucking and drinking the clear fluid that kept leaking from inside me.
For a moment I realised that there was no part of me that was not being aroused, sucked, fondled or fucked. I was an open creature and they were using every part and corner of my body to satisfy their deep lust and desire to fuck me and fill me with their seed.
That is then I first felt the stirrings of my lover’s orgasm! Deep inside me I felt the hard thrusting of Assad’s cock grow faster and more urgent and if it was at all possible, he felt as though his fat stem began to swell larger and larger stretching the walls of my soft insides and straining my pussy with this engorged rod.
I bounced on my heels making his upwards motion sink and push deeper and deeper into my gut then I saw his face crease up, the lovely brown eyes squeezed closed, his hand gripped my hips and pulled them down onto his hard erect penis.
He jerked for a moment and I felt a scalding, sudden, heat deep inside me as the orgasm forced the thick creamy cum up the length of his rod till it squirted into the warm dark recess of my pussy and he kept pouring his seed into me and I contracted my internal muscles and the tight sphincter muscles that were now opened into an enlarged O shape. The contractions gripped his shaft and helped to milk the remaining drops from his balls. Now the thick load began to be squeezed out along the sides of his still pumping cock, matting his pubic hair and making the tops of my thighs shiny with spunk.
I stayed crouched over his cock, still large enough to stay lodged in my pussy and leant over and kissed him breathlessly on the mouth, sucking the air out of his lungs and licking his face.
Behind me, I realised that the companion who had been sucking me had decided that it was his turn, as I felt a busy hand reach between my legs and pull Assad’s now flaccid cock, out of me, letting a sudden gush of semen to pour out of my puckered pussy hole and drop all over Assad’s cock.
Fingers urgently pushed and twisted inside my sex canal, using the spunk as a lubricant and quickly positioning himself behind me, I felt another fat phallus nose against me, then quickly and without any resistance slid quickly inside me, filling me again to the hilt.
I was now on all fours bent over Assad, kissing him, while I was fucked energetically from behind. My body was swaying rhythmically under the assault and pounding of this new rod and my kissing was characterised by my mouth being crushed onto Assad’s, with each thrust from behind.
Assad was clearly enjoying himself as he grinned at me and then slowly extricated himself from underneath me and kneeled to one side so he could get a close look at my sexual coupling with his friend. Now both of them who were on either side of me joined in by pulling my panties down to my knees and licking around the pumping shaft that was battering my behind. I felt quick tongues flicker around the entrance to my pussy and then travel further down between my legs.
I knew I was close to coming and closed my eyes, taking the weight of the fucking on my hands and knees, pushing my buttocks up and outwards to open myself completely and offering my entire body to these men kneeling around me with their eager cocks.
The man inside me started coming and I felt the rhythm change as he let the flood of more semen pump copiously into me, so now there was a constant stream of sticky spunk dripping down the insides of my legs and staining the dark red patterned carpet I knelt on.
I knew that I would have no respite and sure enough, my now well stretched pussy was suddenly vacated, giving me a moment to draw breath and regain the senses of my lower torso, then as suddenly the third cock was thrust deep and quickly into my now open and wet hole.
This time he was eager and frantic with lust and he pushed me between the small of my back pushing my face to the carpet and then squatting behind me on half bent knees, allowing himself clear access to push his cock down into me and to gain the maximum friction on the fat head as he pistoned in and out of me jerking his hips to help drive his thick cock deep into, my by now foaming hole.
This abjection of me to these men, this giving myself completely up to their lust, now had its effect on me and I felt my own orgasm build from deep within me. I was almost in a delirious dream and my body felt on fire with a total sexual lust I could vaguely feel the continued animal fucking between my legs but a wave of sugary sensations spread in waves over my belly and thighs and my own sweet distended clit began to pour its own contribution to these men’s sperm that now soaked our clothes and the carpet I knelt on.
The evening did not stop, it did slow its pace, but before I was finally taken to bed covered in these men’s sperm and spunk my body open and red with the sex rashes, I was penetrated again by each man in turn and I took their reduced ejaculations again in varying positions, so they could come close and watch the minute detail of my mating. They wanted to see the white froth oozing out of me with my legs spread wide, each man helping to support my limbs so they could get better access to me.
I finally ended up in a swoon, I had cum three times and They put me in my large bed between the crisp white sheets and I fell into a semi-sleep, my hand between my legs as the tingling of my orgasms kept echoing around my flesh.
After I imagine was about an hour, I felt a hand beneath my bed clothes and I sleepily looked over my shoulder with half closed eyes and saw the figure of Sally standing at the side of the bed, his kaftan pulled up and in his hand a large erect penis which he was fondling and squeezing.
He pulled back the sheets and with strong hands gently pulled my hips to the edge of the bed, so my buttocks were pointing towards him, then slowly and without a spoken word, he held my cheeks apart and gently fed with his hand, the entire length of his cock inside my hole. For a moment I thought he would start to pump into me and by now my pussy was feeling stretched and a little sore and I felt a moment of panic, thinking I could take no more but I needn’t have worried.
Instead he just stood there and I felt the slow pulsing of his shaft inside me. He stayed like that without moving, clearly luxuriating in the curve and shape of my body and the warm sticky confines of my pussy enveloping his rod. Then he suddenly stiffened and shuddered and for the seventh time that night, I was filled again with a man’s seed.

I then fell asleep and slept for 15 hours non-stop, I had become a real concubine for a night and like Scherherazade had told a story using my body only and now I lay there, brown skinned with the sheets darkened with a spreading stain of all the men’s seed pouring out of me and mingling with my own. I was in my own small hot dark heaven.

The lady in red