Another Time, Another Place

by Zane

  Solemnly, he keeps his gaze upon me as if he were attempting to burn me into his memory. Then he lightly presses his lips against mine one last time, before walking out the door, leaving me drawing in a long breath—wondering why things must become so complicated.

  Several days and nights have come and gone, and Horus has been silent. A part of me is relieved that there’s been no word from him. However, there’s another part—that part of me that has not grown tired of him, yet—that would keep company with him again through the night, and perhaps into the sunrise. I can not deny the truth: Horus felt so very good inside of me. And my vagina walls wish to wrap themselves around his manhood again. However, I will not call upon him. And though he keeps his distance, I know I am still in his dreams. He still allows images of my nakedness to consume him. And I linger in his thoughts, against his morning erections, against the stroke of his hardness, against the flooding and release of his loins. I am fully aware that he will find comfort between the thighs of many others, but his thirst for me shall not be quenched. The well of his desires for me shall overflow and no matter how hard he tries to ignore these urgings, he shall give into them. He will seek to feel the heat of my skin against his. He shall find his way back to me to rest himself in between my bosom, and in the center of my thighs where I will allow him to taste the fruit of my clitoris, then release himself into the basin of my womb.

  It is early evening and I have just finished washing my body and oiling it with jasmine oil. I have been as lazy as a cat, napping and nibbling today. And now I am sitting at the table in the central room, eating a bowl of boiled cabbage and a side plate of mullet roe—fish eggs—when my mind slowly begins to drift, along the edges of the desert.

  I am running over and around the shifting sand-dunes of the Sahara; something is chasing me, but I am not exactly sure what it is. There are no faces. Just sweaty and musky bodies chasing behind me with long arms, big hands and long spidery fingers, stretching out to grab me. They are naked and salivating. And their grotesquely large penises have the heads of hissing asps. The scorching sand beneath the bottom of my feet makes running unbearable, but if I stop, these two-legged creatures will devour me. The heat and the want of water make it most difficult to keep my stride. My lips crack and my throat burns from gulping in the treacherous heat. I am screaming, but no one hears my cries for help. I am stumbling and falling. The sun is beating down on me, brutal and relentless, just like the creatures that are slowly closing in on me, determined to have their way with me. To do whatever they will. There is nothing but miles and miles of desert ahead of me and I do not understand what this means. But somehow, after all of my running, and all of my screaming, an oasis lies ahead of me. I crane my neck to look behind me, and there is nothing behind me. The creatures have gone. And I am now wallowing in the Nile, soaking in all of its wetness. This vision frightens and confuses me. I take a deep breath and wonder if the gods are trying to reveal my fate to me.

  The sound of a man’s voice saves me from finding out what becomes of me. A film of sweat lines my forehead.

  “Is it I who fills your thoughts?” he asks, grinning. I stare up into his face. For the first time, I notice his straight, neatly spaced teeth. They have not been worn down over the years from the sand that gets into the food or the bits of stone that end up in the stone-ground flour. I don’t know when he got here, or how long he had been standing here, but…

  “Toth,” I say, feigning surprise to see him standing in my doorway. But I knew he would come. The throbbing heat between his legs has led him to me. His dreams have become too much for him to bear. And now he stands before me, eager to fulfill all that has consumed him. Though I know what will fall from his lips, I still ask, “Why have you come unannounced?”

  “I could no longer wait to be summoned by you,” he says, his tone filled with a lust that matches his gaze as he steps into my space. “You seem to have time for everyone else, except me. You leave my loins neglected. You deny me your touch. Teasing me with promises you do not plan to keep. No, Raghaba, I have waited far too long. Tonight, I am here to take what I’ve been longing for.”

  For some reason, his jealousy entices me; the knowing that he is feeling slighted, that he has been wanting, longing for, this causes my nipples to harden. I smell his need. His pores leak with the scent of lust. I will not give in so easily.

  “But I have not invited you,” I say, backing up, “nor have I offered you any reason to make claims upon me.” He is making his way closer to me, and I keep moving away until my back is up against the wall, and I have no more room to go anywhere else.

  Though I am not frightened by his presence, I pretend that I am. I toy with him, giving him the illusion that he is in control; that he is taking what he wants. I allow him to think he is orchestrating this journey. He raises his arms on either side of me, then presses his palms flat against the wall, blocking any chance for escape. The element of danger, though imagined, ignites a flame inside of me which causes my juices to slowly simmer.

  He leans in, presses his body against mine, and whispers, “Raghaba, sweet goddess of desire, give me what my loins so desperately need. Let me slip myself into your wet valley and lose all that I am in your pleasures. Allow me to melt against the scent of your womanhood.”

  He places his warm mouth around my left earlobe, sucks on it, then dips his tongue into my ear as he writhers his wide hand up my gown and reaches into the space between my thighs, searching for the center of my flesh. I let out a soft moan when his fingers find the slick softness of its opening. My hips move against my will, grind against his hand.

  “You have not earned the right to such pleasures,” I say coyly, catching the air that gathers in the back of my throat.

  He presses his fingers against my clitoris and whispers ferociously into my ear, “And neither have the others whom you have taken to your bed. So, tonight shall be no different.” He takes my hand and presses it against his hardness. “Feel the thickness and length of my desires for you. Squeeze it and feel its pulse.” I squeeze. “See. It beats for your warmth. And tonight, I shall have it, Raghaba, goddess of desire. You will saturate me with your juices, and I will fill you with mine.”

  My juices are now coming to a rapid boil as he pins me up against the wall and grinds himself into me. I can feel the girth of his manhood pushing against my stomach. Strong hands encircle my waist. His lips devour mine.

  I pull away. “I am not prepared for you.” The wetness that drips all over his probing fingers defies what comes from my mouth.

  He licks his fingers. “No, my sweet Raghaba, you are more than ready. And tonight,” he says, scooping me up in his arms, then walking toward the back of the house to the stairs that lead to the roof, “we shall greet the gods who look down upon us under the stars and share with them our heated passion.”

  I do not protest. I allow him to carry me to the roof where he shall unleash his fantasies, and where I shall indulge them.

  Once on the roof, he puts me down so that I can retrieve the rolled reed mat and coverings. Then he unrolls it, and covers it with the coarse linen sheet. Silence guides us as we both hastily remove our garments. We stand naked, my erect nipples, matching the sturdy erection of his manhood. I take in his muscular body, the broad chest and narrow waist with massive thighs and heartshaped calves. Strong, smooth and assured, Toth closes the space between us, pulling me into him.

  “Don’t ever deny me,” he murmurs, planting wet kisses along my neck and collar bone.

  “Then don’t give me reason,” I respond, stroking his penis, “and you shall not be denied.” Well, at least not tonight, I think as we tenderly hold hands, gazing deep into each other’s eyes. For me, there is no genuine emotion attached to my words or the act. It is just a part in the script, an imaginary role I am more than comfortable playing—for now.

  He rubs the edge of my vulva; wets his fingers in my juices. My clitoris is hard, sticking out, exposed and vulnerable. My vagina, ho
t and ready, contracts. As he moves his body, so I move mine. He fondles his testicles, and I manipulate my clitoris. Our eyes lock together.

  Toth catches sight of a clay jar on a wooden stand in the far corner. He walks over to retrieve it. “What is in it?” he asks, making his way to the other side of the roof.

  “Beer. Why?”

  “Good,” he says. He opens, and takes a long swig, walking back over to me. He kisses me, delivering beer into my mouth. He licks as it slides down my chin and down my chest. He tells me to hold my head back, and open my mouth. I obey, and he turns the jar up and pours, its contents spilling out of my mouth. He licks all over me, pouring beer all over my breasts, then sucking and slurping it up. “Mmm…you tastes so good.”

  I let out a soft moan.

  “I want you to get on your knees,” he says, “and spread your legs wide, then I want you to arch your back and stick your backside out. I want to taste and eat the forbidden hole.”

  My clitoris twitches as my juices run down my leg. I am excited, and more than willing to submit myself to him in any way he wants. I get on the mat and follow his instructions. He licks the seam of my backside, then flaps his warm, wet tongue against its opening. He buries his tongue in, then his finger. I moan again. Feel my breath catch in my throat.

  “I will make sweet love to this tender jewel,” he says in between moans. He buries his nose into my seam, then inhales—deep and hard. “Mmmm…you smell and taste as sweet as the nectar from the lotus.”

  He pushes two fingers in, gets them in down to his knuckles, then pulls out. Then sticks them back in. He is teasing me. I wind my hips. The tight ring of flesh, hugging his fingers, puckers and twitches with the flick of his tongue. He slips a finger inside and I moan—spreading my legs wider—and gyrate my hips as his finger burrows deeper inside of me. He removes his finger, replacing it with his tongue as he pulls open my cheeks, tracing along the outer edges of my hole. His mouth caresses me; his tongue makes love to me. I hump my backside against his mouth, twisting and rearing and moaning.

  “Mmm…mmm…uh…uh…ooooh…that’s right, Toth, eat me… tongue me deep and wet,” I say, panting. Toth is slurping and licking and blowing my anus. Taking me places I never knew possible.

  “Hold open your sweet cheeks for me,” he says, slapping my backside. My buttocks bounce against the sting. I pull them open, wide and ready for what’s to come. Toth is a master at eating my backside, and I feel myself slipping into a frenzied, mind-boggling orgasm as he slips one, then two fingers into my hole and reaches between my legs with his other hand and fondles my clitoris, then slides two fingers into my slickness. I lose myself in excitement and in pleasure as he slowly inches his manhood into my tight, burning hole. I grimace, clutching the mat cloth.

  “Uh…”

  “Relax…it will stop hurting,” he says, leaning over and kissing my back. “Let me dig open your walls, and travel to where no man has been.”

  He inches more of himself inside of me.

  “Uh…”

  He reaches around and fondles my breasts as he pushes himself further, stretching the tight ring of flesh that now aches and burns and twitches to accommodate the length and width of him, the veined trunk of his hardness pulsing and pushing against resistance, against need, against want, against desire—piercing me, causing the intense sweetness of pain and warmth and pleasure to swirl in my lower back, then explode through my body.

  “Oh, yes,” I sigh, pumping my hips to meet his slow, thoughtful thrusts. “I’m so wet…mmmph….mmmph…”

  “That’s it, Raghaba…take it all,” he whispers into my ear, the heat from his loins escaping through his mouth, causing my skin to tingle. “Oh, beautiful one, you are so tight,” he moans. “You feel so good…”

  I clench my teeth. “Uh…,” I moan, craning my neck to see him. His eyes are closed and his bottom lip is pulled in. He plants his hands on my hips and moans as he maneuvers his hips in many different directions, hitting the center, the sides and the bottom of my rectum. “Uh…uh…it feels soooo good.”

  We are so caught up in rapture that we are unaware of the eyes that are taking in our every movement, savoring the rise and fall of our bodies. Inhaling our scents, and basking in the aroma of arousal.

  Toth moans.

  I moan.

  Then we are both startled by a noise. It is of someone clearing his throat. We both stare with surprised looks on our faces. It is Horus standing in the doorway. His eyes are full and wide, dancing with lust from watching us. He smiles as Toth continues to thrust inside of me, makes no effort to stop. I am starting to feel uncomfortable knowing Horus is here, but Toth does not care. He presses his chest against my back, sucks on my earlobe, then whispers, “Let him join us.” His thrusts become harder. His penis thickens.

  “Nooo,” I moan. “Ooooh…yes…uh…no.”

  “Let him join us,” he says again, pushing harder, pulling my cheeks open wider as he stretches my rectum.

  “Uh…mmm…oh, yes…mmm…noooo…”

  I close my eyes, block out his request, and concentrate on the building sensation that stirs itself around my clitoris. I do not know how long my eyes have been closed, but when I open them, Horus is kneeling over us, hovering near my face. His penis inches from my reach. My lips quiver in anticipation; drool slides down the side of my mouth. Toth sees this and seems to be excited. He seems eager to see me suck Horus’s organ while he inches my legs up over his shoulders and around his neck. My back bows as his hands lift my buttocks up off the mat. Then he slides his thickness into me, stretching the yawn of my vagina. I gasp. He fills me with the length and width of his phallus. He begins pumping deep inside of me, and my juices start to splash against the edges of his manhood.

  “Do it harder,” Horus eggs on, pinching my nipples. My vagina gets wetter and hotter with him tweaking my nipples between his fingers. “Make her beg for mercy from the gods above.” I glance in his direction, eyes slick with pleasure, and see he is stroking himself in time with Toth’s thrusts. “She likes it fast and hard,” he says, licking his lips, encouraging Toth to deepen his stride. His shaft rapidly plunges in and out of me, like a hot spear.

  I am on fire, blazing like the sun, my hips slamming up against Toth’s, each thrust deeper than the one before. The sensitivity of my nipples is heightened by Horus’s touch. It is feeling so good. Toth is feeling so delicious inside of me. Horus is looking so delicious over me. But I shall not give either one of them the satisfaction of bringing forth screams of pleasure. I bite down on my lower lip.

  “Harder,” I demand, stifling a moan that gets caught in the back of my throat. He slams himself into me. “Stop teasing me, Toth…feed me…lose yourself in me.”

  He is panting. He is grunting. His hips are thrashing. His body is slick with sweat, and glowing under the moonlight. His face is twisting. I am forcing him to deliver pain and ecstasy in deep, fast strokes; forcing him to bring forth an orgasm that bursts through my hot, sweaty flesh. And with each stroke, in all its intensity, he is determined to give me all that I am asking, with force and urgency.

  “Uh…,” he groans.

  I catch the moon, full and bright, in the center of a cloudless sky, smiling down on me. I close my eyes, hold my breath, fight back the moans, and focus on the gold of dawn and the crimson of sunset that stretches across the back of my eyelids. I am coming. I bite down on my lip, pull Toth into me, dig my nails into his skin, and rake my nails along the small of his back.

  “Deeper!” I yell.

  “Faster!” I beg.

  I open my eyes and turn my head to Horus. He is pumping his manhood in and out of his hand. The head of his penis is sliding in and out, peeking at me, taunting me. His heavy testicles hang loosely, swinging back and forth like a pendulum as he strokes himself. I reach up and touch them, feel the weight of them, then open my mouth to receive them as he lowers them down into my mouth. I suck and lick them as he strokes himself with one hand and strokes my clitor
is with the other. I lap at them as Toth strokes the inside of me. I swallow and gulp them as I pinch my right nipple with my hand.

  Overhead, I catch the glimpse of the rays of the sun as it begins to lower itself over the Nile, crawling against a burst of pinks, oranges, and blues that brush across the horizon. I am coming. A rush of heat is swirling through me. I am coming. The world around me is spinning. I am coming, coming, coming. Again and again and again, wave after wave after wave, my juices splash against Toth’s thrusts. I will not scream. I want more. I need more.

  “Harder,” I urge.

  “Harder!” I shout.

  “Harder!” I demand.

  I turn my attention back to Horus, taking hold of his penis, then slowly slipping its bulbous head into my mouth. I suck. I kiss and fondle his testicles, my finger tracing a slow, sensuous path over and behind each one. And he lets out a soft moan that seems to turn Toth on. The sight and sounds of me making love to Horus with my mouth excites him. I deliberately make loud sucking sounds. There’s a twinkling in Toth’s eyes as he locks his stare onto my mouth nursing Horus’s manhood. He licks his lips, moistens them, as if he wants to pleasure the length of Horus, too. I may be in the throes of passion, but I am acutely aware of the attraction—or fascination—that stirs in Toth’s eyes for Horus. It fuels my already burning fire, ignites prickly sensations that shoot through me, and expels into an explosion of throaty grunts and groans. Toth’s excitement strengthens and lengthens inside of me. I wrap my legs around his waist as he lifts my hips up off the mat, and buries himself deep into my womb.

  My hand finds the groove of Toth’s neck and I draw him near, pull him to my lips and kiss him. My tongue darts back and forth between his mouth and Horus’s phallus. I swirl it, fast and wet, caressing Horus’s manhood and Toth’s lips at the same time. I alternate between sucking and kissing, kissing and sucking, then both simultaneously.