by Cat Shinier
“Chérie, your taste is divine.”
He slips a finger into me and slowly moves it back and forth, in and out. At the same time, he turns his attention back to my clit. What began slowly and playfully is becoming intense. His mouth is sucking me and his tongue is making tiny movements, which is driving me almost insane. I come, and while I do I scream as if I’m never going to stop.
The lower part of my body is twitching. Everything is contracting, including my vagina and my inside muscles as a huge wave is triggered within me. I’m breathless. Shamar is slowly moving up towards my face, like a predatory animal. He kisses me and for the first time I taste my own aroma. It actually tastes quite pleasant. Creamy lemon. His penis is on my hips, hard and heaving while we kiss.
I feel wonderful, but I want more.
Mainly I want Shamar to feel the same amount of pleasure as I have just experienced. So I turn around on my side so that we face one another. My free hand glides through his hair, which makes him close his eyes appreciatively. I sit up and press him down by the shoulder. He is lying there on his back, naked. And he lets me investigate his body.
My hands slide over his muscular and wide chest, and I kiss the skin that is taut over the muscles. With my fingers I follow his ribs and draw circles on his stomach. Then I reach for his penis and hold it in my hand. It is large and heavy. A drop is glistening at the top of his belle-end.
Without giving it any further thought, I let my tongue slither over it. I don’t waste another thought on it, seeing that he has just finished pleasuring me. The moment my tongue touches him, Shamar gasps. I assume that he likes what I am doing. He tastes salty and manly and my fingers continue to inspect him. The skin of his shaft is velvety and smooth and there is no foreskin. Probably he was circumcised when he was a child.
This time he jumps and another drop appears, which I spread all over the tip of his penis with my finger, before I suck it off from there. Shamar sits up and pulls me up towards himself and kisses me.
He gets up from our bed, walks over to the trunk and removes something from it. I move aside when he sits down at the head of the bed, next to me. He is holding a handful of condoms.
“Do you know how to use them?”
I shake my head. Where would I have learned to use condoms? Theoretically I know how they work, but in real life I don’t have a clue. I watch as he opens a little plastic packet, takes out a condom and covers his erect penis with it. Next he reaches for little strips of cloth and a little knife.
“What on earth is that for?” I ask him, amazed at these utensils that I would not have expected him to have ready for us during sex.
“You will use it to tie me up to the bed, darling. And you can use the knife to free me again.
I look at him questioningly.
“What do you mean, Shamar?” He puts the knife next to the bed and hands me strips of the cloth.
“I want you to have full control of what happens here. I want you so much, and I don’t want you to feel like I have taken you by surprise. This way you have the course of events in your hands.”
He is giving me complete control. He looks at me, and his gaze is full of tenderness, yet strong. The way he looks at me makes me feel like this part is non-negotiable. So I nod my head and wrap the cloth around his wrists. Shamar slides down so that he is in a horizontal position. I bend down over him and fasten each of the strips to the metal bars on the head of the bed.
Then I kiss him and stroke his whole body with my hands, from top to bottom. I would have never imagined that simply looking at a man would make me feel such desire. I touch his penis, which looks uncomfortable all packed away in the condom. Then his testicles. There are little drops of sweat on Shamar’s forehead, and he is breathing heavily.
“Move up a little closer, darling.”
I follow his words and move up closer, offering my vagina to his lips. His tongue glides into me. I kneel over his face and hold on to the top of the iron bars over the head of the bed.
“You are wet and ready, darling,” he moans. His moaning has the effect of a fire accelerant on me. My most intimate part moves over his mouth, and his tongue immediately finds my clit and starts pampering it. I can hardly hold myself up as I can feel another huge orgasm spreading in my body, and after a few more movements of his tongue I explode. My knees are shaking. I am as ready as I can be to have sex with him.
My hands let go of the bars, and I move downwards, gradually, so that his penis can find its entrance. I hold on to it with one hand and straighten up a bit so that I can position myself just right. If I lower myself now, it will have happened. My slit looks so small compared to his huge penis. I look at him questioningly.
“It’s not going to work. You are too big for me.”
Shamar swallows and his adam’s apple moves.
“Darling, trust me. It will fit. I expand, and you will expand, too. It will hurt the first time, but never again.”
Shamar is now gasping, the strips of cloth are pressing into his wrists, his eyes are black. He can hardly control himself.
That is what pushes me over the edge. I close my eyes and sit down on him with all of the strength I can muster. Something in me tears, and I cannot suppress a small noise of anguish. Even though I am wet from my orgasm I feel like I am too small for him. Even if it hurts, I try a second time, and then Shamar irrevocably and completely fills me out. It stills hurts, and I remain sitting there on him for a moment.
Then I look at him. His eyes are closed; the veins along his neck are swollen, and he looks like he is hanging on to the bars of the bed for dear life.
“Please untie the strings, darling, please,” he moans loudly. I don’t want to let him suffer any longer and take the knife to cut open the knots that are now completely tight. The knife cuts right the material, and when I’ve freed Shamar, I throw it aside. He sits up, and I still have him in me.
“Does it still hurt?” He asks.
The pain has subsided, but the feeling of being completely full has not stopped.
“No, I am okay,” I answer. “It is just that you are so big.”
Shamar smiles. “That is true, darling, but it will get better.”
With these words he kisses me and holds me in a tight embrace while he slowly starts moving in me. He glides back and forth, which is not completely pain-free for me. But still I become aroused and adjust to his movements. He keeps entering me with his erect penis, touching a part of me deep inside of me that drives me to another orgasm, slowly, but surely.
Gradually he increases his speed, gets faster and faster. My limit seems to be reached, and I have the third orgasm this evening. This time he is in me and muscle contract slowly around him.
“Oh God, darling,” he moans loudly, and his movements become even rapider. It is as if his penis has grown even more. He stops for one tiny second and lets go with a few last thrusts. We fall back into bed, gasping for air and covered with sweat. Tenderly his hands caress my whole body and following its outlines. The ends of the strips of cloth tickle my skin. After a while, Shamar pulls out carefully and removes the condom. He knots it and lays it aside.
“How are you?” Shamar bends over and looks at me searchingly.
“I hurt, but the hurt is delicious,” I answer smiling.
“Then you are okay?”
“Yes. It was exciting and loving of you, Shamar, to offer yourself to me that way. I would have never dared to dream of doing that.”
He puts his arm around me, and we lie there for a while silently wrapped up in one another. Then he kisses me, reaches for the condom and goes to the tent with the bathroom. When he comes back, he has a wash cloth which he has dipped in water and with which he cleans me slowly and tenderly.
The blood has run down the insides of my legs and when I turn around I can see that there are several blood spots on the sheet. Shamar carefully removes the traces of my defloration and dries me off again. Then he puts everything aside and climbs back into bed, nex
t to me, spreading the blankets over both of us and snuggling up to me. Despite the new surroundings, I am completely relaxed and fall asleep immediately.
My night is short but restorative. Shamar is lying next to me, fast asleep. Quietly I pull something over to cover my nakedness and run over to the tent with the bathroom. The water is not warm yet, but I don’t care. I feel like I am burning from the inside so that the shower cools me down. After I shower I dry off quickly and return to our tent, where Shamar is still asleep on his back, half uncovered. I glide back into our bed and sit down next to him. He is so handsome it takes my breath away.
I look at him admiringly, and I cannot get enough of him. His dark black hair is all tousled and covers his forehead. His eyes are surrounded by dark black, thick eyelashes that touch his bronze-colored cheeks and high cheek bones. His sensuous lips are opened slightly, and one hand is over his head, the other on his stomach. I can see red stripes on both of his wrists, where the material has left its traces. His chest rises seductively with each of his breaths, and the stomach moves along, too. The path of his lust is under the part of the sheet that is covering him and looks enticing.
I grab my wet hair and sprinkle a few drops over his stomach. And the second the water touches his skin, Shamar jumps and opens his eyes.
“Good morning, darling. Awake so early?” he greets me.
I bend down to him and kiss his chest. This man is my personal addiction. His eyes follow me and sleep is replaced by passion. Visibly his best friend comes alive. Then I kiss his stomach. While his penis grows toward me I grab it and its velvety hardness.
“As I can see you are awake now too,” I grin.
“Where is my shy angel?” he whispers hoarsely, while I am busy fussing with his quivering penis.
I stroke his thighs and then continue on over the inside of his thighs. Shamar groans quietly, and it really turns me on how he reacts to my touches. When I start stroking his testicles with one hand, he interrupts me.
“That’s enough now,” he growls and pulls me down to himself. Our bodies touch and the heat he emanates almost burns me. With a sudden movement, he turns me around. Now I am lying on my back on the pillows, like before. He supports himself on me and starts nibbling on my ear. His tongue plays around with my earlobe while shivers ripple down my back, and something in me awakens. It is more than the longing that I already have for him. He sucks at my nipples, and I start moving around. He does not stop. He is determined.
“Please,” I say, “Please come to me.”
“Yes, sweetheart, I just want to pamper you some more.”
With these words, he bites down more on my nipples and starts to work really at them, which in turn awakens whatever automatic connection there is to my inner muscles which contract in the most delightful way. At the same time, I feel a finger that is making its way to the innermost part of my body.
“You are so hot and wet, darling.” With his thumb he touches my clitoris. The first harbingers of my orgasm roll over me, and I groan loudly. Shamar interrupts what he is doing and bends down to me, opening a small package that contains a condom that he slips over his penis. I watch him and am still amazed that our anatomies will fit. The extent of his size makes it hard for me to believe that he can penetrate me.
“You should start taking the pill soon, darling, condoms aren’t the solution. I want to feel you completely.” He lowers himself down, and I can feel his weight and his strength. I kiss his neck and follow the strands of muscles with my hands on his back. He has placed his penis on my pubic bone, and his testicles are tickling my vulva. All of these tiny movements are enough to set into motion another orgasm. I cannot lie still. I keep moving my groin to set off my orgasm again. I cannot stop. Then I feel his penis at my entrance.
I try to make it easier for him to penetrate me, and he kisses my lips, the top ones and the lower ones and then he slowly glides into me while his tongue plays with mine. It really is not all that simple. I have to get used to his size first.
“You are so hot and so tight,” he whispers with a rough voice. His breath is my breath. We kiss passionately while he penetrates me, retreats and penetrates again. The pressure in my inside is increasing, and Shamar fills me out completely. Then he ups the speed. Now my orgasm cannot be held back. A thousand colors burst in front of my eyes, and waves of contractions stampede through my body. And Shamar, who is thrusting in me while he keeps changing the speed and the angle of his thrust. At some point, I hear myself scream. My orgasm disintegrates slowly and Shamar slows down, too.
None of my muscles want to jump into action. I feel like a newborn baby, but I have absolutely no strength. I enjoy his movements in me and the wonderful rubbing of his skin on mine. Shamar is now kneeling between my legs and takes my thighs on his shoulders, to the left and right of his head. He has not orgasmed yet, and I can see that he is just about to. His gaze is entrancing. Dark, passionate and hot.
I have my legs wrapped around his shoulders so that he can penetrate me even deeper. My flesh is soft and willingly spreads even further. I can hold him completely. And then he really gets going. Initially, his thrusts are slow, and then they get faster and faster and become deeper and deeper. Each time his testicles clash against me and send wonderful impulses to my most sensitive zone and just like yesterday he stops briefly before he has an orgasm, moaning loudly while these thrusts become long and firm. Just looking at him is enough for me to have yet another orgasm. A small one this time. Shamar drops next to me, breathing heavily.
What a way to start the day. I could get addicted to it. We lie there together, caressing one another and kissing, not wanting to get up. Finally, nature wins. While I go and take another shower and freshen up, Shamar is busy with the tent. And when I am done, so is breakfast. Shamar has set a small table in front of the tent and fixed some food for us for breakfast. There is even a samovar brewing tea for me. Shamar disappears in our tent, and I can enjoy the landscape. The sun is not high in the sky yet, and the cool wind from the dunes is very pleasant.
The breakfast we enjoy together is simple and healthy. While we eat, Shamar tells me that we can spend the whole day together when we return to our hotel. Tomorrow I will be accompanying him to a polo game and on Monday we return to the Burj Al Arab. On Monday, the first week of my three-week vacation will be over. I took three weeks’ vacation, and it makes me sad that there are only two weeks left that I have to spend with him. When we’re done eating, and while Shamar is saddling the horses and putting on their bridles, I clear the table and put everything back where it belongs. I am getting a bit depressed, because the thought of my return to Germany and the separation from Shamar that will bring are looming on the horizon like an impending disaster in my thoughts. It takes a while for me to sort my thoughts again. It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. It will be great to be together as long as we can be and if I could, I would repeat every single step again.
* * *
“How about it, Luna. Would you rather drive back or take the horses again?”
Shamar enters the tent. Thank God he does not notice my mood swings. A drive would be too unromantic, I think to myself because I want to spend some more time with him alone.
I say that I would prefer taking the horses again. So after we have covered our heads and protected our skin with light clothing, Shamar closes the tent. He puts on the rucksack that he wore on our ride here and helps me up onto the horse before mounting his horse. I take one last long look at our first love nest and then we ride off.
The way back is just as long, but I need a few more breaks than when we came. The sex we had this morning is not compatible with a saddle. I keep squirming around and in doing so make my horse nervous.
“Do you hurt?” Shamar looks at me probingly.
“Not really, it is just a bit uncomfortable.” Maybe we should not have made love this morning.
“It won’t last long, darling. But wait, maybe this will help.”
He climbs off his ho
rse, puts down his rucksack and takes off his shirt.
“Here take this and put it on the saddle to sit on. Maybe that will help.” Gratefully I accept the piece of clothing and fold it so that it fits.
Then I put it on the saddle as best I can. And after a short period I feel some relief. We continue on to our hotel next to each other holding hands.
And it does not take long for the building complex to appear in front of us. Our two horses seem to sense that their stable is approaching and increase their speed. Shortly thereafter, we enter the complex.
* * *
Our apartment is nice and cool as the door closes behind us. We drop our things and look at each other.
“Out to the pool?” we both say at the same time. And after our desert safari it is clear that we need something to cool us down. So we slip out of our clothes and into our bathing suits.
We race to the pool together to see who can jump in first. Shamar wins and dives in elegantly head first. I am still busy fastening my top and then I jump in, too. The pool is surrounded by thick bushes so that no one can see in. We have a good time, splash water, tease each other and pull each other by the feet to see if we can make the other person swim under water.
It is great. I really enjoy being alone with Shamar. I am being given everything I have done without for years and I suck up all this fun like a sponge. After we have cooled off we lie down on the lounges next to the pool. Shamar gets up and gets us something to drink. There is a peaceful kind of silence over the complex and we nap in the shadow, enjoying each other’s presence. Later that afternoon we take another swim in our private pool and in the evening we have dinner together in our apartment, sitting behind each other on a chaise lounge. We watch the sun go down over the sand and witness the spectacle again. I lean back against his chest, and we share the delicious wine we had for dinner from one glass. When the sun has gone down and the temperature drops we go back inside.
