Chapter 14
Posted: August 29, 2006 - 12:44:13 am?
I was eating supper in the Radisson's restaurant that evening, when I
met a couple of people from 'Doctors Without Borders.' They were here
for almost the same reason as me, they were going to cross the border
into western Iraq, set up in al Rabat and start treating children. I
mentioned to one of the doctors that I was going to a small village
northeast of al Rabat to set up a small medical clinic. We chatted for
a while and I accepted his invitation to join their convoy. The Doctors
Without Borders were a well-intentioned group and most of their
volunteers had no political agenda, so I accepted. Joining them would
delay my departure by a day, but crossing into Iraq as part of a larger
group would be much safer, especially since they were going to fall in
behind a US supply convoy.
On day forty-three, I set out to complete the last eight-hour leg of my
journey home. Throwing my lot in with the aide workers helped me cross
the border easier, because the border guards thought I was part of the
DWB people. Fifty miles inside Iraq, I had my driver turn northeast off
the Amman-Baghdad highway and head towards al Warabi, the village
nearest the farm. The driver grew progressively more nervous as we
separated from the convoy. We had driven about fifteen minutes when we
pulled up on an American checkpoint. I knew from the television reports
that there had been a major operation in the area to our north and west
that had resulted in some fierce fighting just three weeks ago, so I
wasn't surprised at the roadblock.
I had the driver pull to a stop a good distance from the checkpoint and
walked up with my arms raised. The sergeant supervising the checkpoint
knew who I was when I identified myself. He was astonished that I was
back in Iraq.
"I came back to repay these people for what they did for me," I said.
He said he guessed he could understand that and called his Company
Commander for instructions. I cooled my heels for fifteen minutes while
he was on the radio. When he came back over, his demeanor had changed
subtly.
"Sir, you need to make yourself comfortable, because my Brigade
Commander is on his way to see you."
"Why is he coming here to see me?" I asked lamely.
The sergeant gave me this look. I remembered that look when I was in
the 82nd Airborne. It was the blank look we reserved for second
lieutenants who asked dumb questions. Only an idiot would suppose the
Brigade Commander discussed his plans with a lowly squad leader. I had
to laugh.
"Forget I asked that, okay? I was a sergeant in the 82nd in my first
life, so I know a dumb question when I hear one, even if I asked it.
Tell me this though, did the call sound real official or more social?"
The sergeant gave me a grin. "If this was official I'd probably be frog
marching you to see him, so I'd say it was social."
While we were waiting, the sergeant had me open my cases so he could
see what I was transporting. His Iraqi counterparts briefly questioned
my drivers, as a couple of privates looked under the truck and van with
those mirrors on a stick. We waited another half hour until a Humvee
with three radio antennas came careening up the road. A short,
bull-necked man exited the hummer and walked towards us. He returned
the sergeant's crisp salute then stuck out his hand to me.
"Captain Pappas, I'm Bart Wheeler and I need to talk to you for a few
minutes if you don't mind," he said.
I returned his handshake.
"It's Nick, Colonel. I was medically retired three weeks ago. If you
are wondering why I'm back here, I want to see the Hassans and thank
them again, then I am going to build a medical clinic in the village in
Abu Hassan's honor."
He nodded and clapped me on the back.
"That's a pretty big show of gratitude, Nick, but it's about as
honorable a thing as I've ever seen. We owe you a big thank you for the
intelligence leads you brought us. We had heard rumors of this Sheik
Omar, but we thought he was just some desert crackpot. Turns out the
wily old bastard was directing most of the terrorist attacks in and
around Baghdad from out here. He had a completely intact Republican
Guard Division's equipment hidden in caves and tunnels carved into the
big wadis (dry river beds) north of here. Most of the territorial
police out this way turned out to be his men; we were actually paying
his men to keep the locals in line. When we hit one of the wadis, we
found evidence that he smuggled over two thousand militants into the
country in the last two years.
"Omar equipped the insurgents and sent them towards Baghdad to make
mischief. His plan was to create anarchy in the country, then when we
pulled out, he was going to declare himself warlord of this area. He
claims the area is his by birthright, because he is descended from a
Bedouin Caliph. We even found five hundred million dollars in US
currency he had collected somehow. Too bad you were on active duty when
you gave us that map, because if you had been a civilian, one percent
of the money would be yours."
I dismissed the idea of the money immediately. "I wouldn't know what to
do with that much money anyway. But I think some gratitude is due the
Hassans; they gathered the information for me anyway. What have we done
for them, and are they being shielded from all the fighting?"
Colonel Wheeler allowed himself to smile for the first time.
"I went out to that farm once, because the Civil Affairs guy raved
about it so much. It is an amazing place and the Hassans are some
amazing people. It was hard for me to believe that someone could
successfully farm in this god-forsaken place. One of my battalions set
up their CP about two miles from there and the battalion's mess
sergeant bought a lot of produce from the widows. The CA folks did
themselves proud fixing the place up, too. Last I heard they built
another green house and put in some solar panels and a wind-powered
generator so they'd have reliable electricity. My engineer company also
dammed up that big wadi behind the date grove and ran pipes from it to
a catch basin they tunneled. If the engineers are right, they should
have water to irrigate the grove year-round after the next winter
rains."
The colonel jawed with me for a few more minutes, then shoved off. The
sergeant waved me through the checkpoint as soon as the Brigade
Commander departed. It took another forty minutes to reach the house. I
didn't even glance at the improvement the colonel talked about. I had
the driver lay on the horn and I hopped out of the van. Kalila was the
first person out of the house. She screamed my name and charged towards
me. She launched herself on me when she was still ten feet away from
me. I caught her in mid leap and spun her around. Kalila suddenly
noticed the other men and blushed furiously. I chuckled and took her
hand.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
"They are at the market. We had many strawberries and melons to sell
this week."
Kalila went to make me coffee while I had my Jordanian drivers help me
unload my boxes into the equipment shed and carry my bags inside the
house. I gave them a hundred-dinar tip and sent them on their on their
way in the truck I hired. They were anxious to get back into Jordan
before nightfall. I moved the van behind the shed myself and walked
back into the house. Kalila handed me a cup of coffee as soon as I came
in the door. My wives all enjoyed coffee now, and they had all learned
to make a pretty good pot. One of my surprises for them was a drip
coffee maker, an electric coffee grinder and five big bags of coffee
beans.
Kalila and I were sipping our coffee, when I heard the Zil clatter into
the yard. I posed myself nonchalantly in the doorframe as the women
dismounted the truck and Landcruiser. They were gabbing a conversation
among themselves, and were halfway to the house when Tahani spotted me.
"NEEKO!" she squealed.
The other women stopped and looked up. Everyone was frozen for a
moment; I don't think I'll ever forget the expressions on their faces
as they gawked at me. Then the spell was broken, and they all rushed
towards the house, all of them talking at once. I greeted them at the
door, my heart swelling as I kissed and hugged each of them. Basheera
held back to be last, but when she hugged me, she almost squeezed the
breath from my lungs.
"You are home, Habib, now all is right in the world," she said
tearfully.
Okay I admit it; I might have teared up a little myself, because I felt
exactly the same way. I finally managed to get them quieted down and
sitting near me in the front room. I opened my briefcase and pulled out
small boxes wrapped in gold foil. I handed the correct box to each of
my wives. I also gave Zahrah a ring, but it wasn't the wedding set I
bought for her. Instead, I gave her a sapphire ring with a heart shaped
stone. I wasn't going to put any pressure on her by giving her even
just the engagement ring.
They tore open the boxes as if they were six-year-olds at Christmas.
Man oh man; those rings were the right gift! They looked at the rings
in slack-jawed awe, then started passing them around for the others to
see. When the rings made it back to the rightful owners, they all
started trying them on. All of the rings were size six and they all
pretty much fit. A few of them were slightly too large but we could
take care of that later. Once I collected another round of hugs and
kisses, I asked Zahrah and Kalila to come out to the shed with me. We
took the laptops, phones and the coffee equipment back to the house. I
put the phones on their chargers and explained that any one leaving the
farm would carry a phone.
We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening catching up on what had
happened in my absence. The women took me on a tour and showed me all
the improvements the Civil Affairs team had made. The most obvious were
the new greenhouse and wind generator. The greenhouse was situated to
the left of the original two greenhouses, and spaced the same distance
from its neighbors. It wasn't identical to the others, but it was
damned close. The wind generator was huge. Three twenty-foot blades
were mounted on a concrete pole forty feet high. The generator section
behind the blades made the assembly appear as if it were the engine and
propeller off a large airplane, while a tail vane kept the blades
facing the wind.
The generator fed power to a battery array located in a two hundred
square foot building the team had built over by the well house. An
inverter changed the current to the required AC and sent it to the
house as needed. At the house, a sensor switched to the battery power
whenever the regular electricity cut out. The Civil Affairs folks
promised that the regular electricity would become more reliable as the
infrastructure was improved. The solar panels Colonel Wheeler mentioned
were on the roof of the building housing the battery array.
One improvement Wheeler didn't mention, but I sure appreciated, was the
new on-demand hot water heater. I never understood how those things
worked, but the thought of taking a hot shower more than a minute long
appealed to me. I collected up all the manuals for the new gear to
study later.
Basheera claimed right of seniority that night and joined me in the
shower. As I was lathering up her lean body, I couldn't help noticing
how receptive she was to my touches or how eager she seemed to touch
me. By the time I had her naked on the big mattress in the basement,
she was on fire. When I started to go down on her, she stopped me.
"I want to feel you in me, Habib. Sometimes it frightens me how much
I've grown to need you. I had faith in you that you would return, but I
worried constantly that something beyond your control would prevent it."
She was wet and open for me when I slid into her. She moaned and
wrapped her legs around my waist.
"Take me, husband, show me you love me," she hissed.
I think that because I returned as I promised, Basheera was finally
able to let loose the part of herself she'd kept reserved from me.
Basheera, so responsible and in control in keeping the family together,
wanted to be someone else now that we were alone. This was her way of
showing me that she wanted me to take charge now. I pulled her long
silky legs up over my shoulders and ground hard against her. Her
wild-eyed look told me I was on the right path.
"It is time for you to become the wife of a real man," I growled. "When
you leave this room tonight, you'll know that beyond a doubt."
She nodded her head excitedly as I pounded into her. Neither one of us
lasted long that first time as we crashed together in frenzied abandon.
When she tried to cover her mouth to stifle her orgasmic scream, I
pulled her hand away.
"My wife doesn't have to conceal her passion," I said.
When I said that, her eyes rolled back in her head and she let out a
primal scream.
"Aaiieeee," she wailed as her body went rigid and her hips lifted us
off the mattress.
Her climax triggered mine, I groaned loudly and fired volley after
volley into her clutching tunnel.
I released her legs and fell off to her side. She snuggled up to my
side and put her head on my shoulder. When we regained our breath, she
cleaned us up. When she was finished, I told her of my plans for the
family and the farm.
"Sheba, in a month or so, the dowries for all my wives and Zahrah will
be in the Bank of Jordan-Kuwait. When that happens, I will also have
more money. We will have enough money then for a long time if we aren't
foolish with it. I still want to live here and farm, but we will have
money to do other things too. One thing I would like to do is set up a
medical clinic in town, perhaps supervised by an Iraqi doctor. Another
thing is to take my wives places on vacation."
Basheera listened and commented on my plans; she saw some merit in my
ideas. She surprised me by telling me that the farm had turned a very
good profit over the last month. She said that we had all of the
approximately ten thousand dollars from the hashish crop, my gold
coins, and Hassan's money, plus a couple of thousand more. Her big news
was that the Americans came through with the reward for assisting me,
twenty-five million Iraqi dinar. At the official exchange rate of about
fifteen hundred dinars to the dollar, it amounted to a little over
sixteen thousand dollars. Basheera's frugal nature meshed well with
mine. I told her we would need to start keeping books for the farm,
because as the country came out of the war, taxes were inevitable. I
said that Adara would be a good person to handle that. After our little
talk, my dick was revived and Basheera wanted more loving. I introduced
her to the sixty-nine position, and away we went.
I settled back into the routine I'd established before I went home. I
continued to learn more about farming and continued to maintain the
buildings and equipment. I called Gary Wright once a week. By the fifth
week after my return, both of my properties had closed, and the funds
were deposited in Palmdale Savings Bank. I called Gina and had nine
hundred thousand dollars transferred to the Bank of Jordan-Kuwait. For
the moment, we were millionaires.
As much as I enjoyed the life I led during the day, it was the evenings
and nights with my wives that made me truly happy. I was loved and
spoiled to the point where I should have been embarrassed. My wives
were thriving, gaining in confidence and growing more comfortable with
me every day. Fatima absolutely glowed with her pregnancy and seemed to
have suffered no lasting affect from Hassan shooting her. She was five
months along now and had started to develop a belly. We all watched her
like hawks to make sure she didn't overwork herself.
Having six women to please in the bedroom was never the chore you might
think it would be. It wasn't a chore, because the wives all had
different needs and desires. Fatima was content with making love once a
week and Basheera was also about the same. Tahani and Jamilah almost
always entertained me together, so they could also explore their
bisexuality. Adara and Kalila were very sexual in nature, but they were
never demanding of me. They both took every opportunity they could
engineer to get me in bed during the day.
Kalila was the first of the wives that I made love to outside of the
house. She had been teasing me mercilessly all morning while we were
working in the greenhouse, so as soon as we were alone together, I bent
her over a potting bench and had my way with her. Kalila enjoyed the
little naughty adventure as much or more than I did. Of course, she
clued in the other women and I had to have a repeat performance the
next day with Adara.
The week after the real estate closed, I took Jamilah, Adara, Fatima,
and Tahani to Kuwait. I had been planning the trip for a few weeks and
had made a few phone calls before we departed. I told the women we were
going shopping, but I didn't tell them about the appointment I had made
for Adara with an orthopedic surgeon. In fact, the reason we were going
to Kuwait instead of Jordan was because of Kuwait's excellent medical
facilities. We were able to stay on the major motorways the entire
route, so it took us ten hours to make the four hundred mile trip.
I had reservations for two connecting rooms at the Marriott in Kuwait
city. I went with a well-known chain, even though it cost me a couple
hundred dollars a night, because at least I knew what to expect. We
arrived at four in the afternoon, checked into the hotel and went up to
our rooms. I was curious about why my wives put on their veils before
we enter the hotel, since we saw only a couple of women with their
faces covered. I asked Jamilah about it as soon as we were settled in
our rooms.
"You have not given your permission for us to go uncovered, Neeko, and
we feel more comfortable with our faces covered right now, anyway. We
are proud that only our husband knows our charms."
I had to grin at what she said. I told her that they had my permission
to dress as they wished; I was secure in their love for me and didn't
care if others admired their beauty. I also told her that I wanted her
in my bed that night, because I had something to talk to her about. She
tried to wheedle out of me our topic for tonight, but I told her we
needed to go down for supper soon. The women huddled together, changed
into their nicest abayas and donned hijab headscarves. I put on one of
my two suits and we headed down to the hotel's restaurant. Lucky for
me, I wasn't a follower of Islam, because I'd have been doomed to hell
for how proud I was of them. The meal cost more than our rooms for a
night but it sure was good. I forgot about the fifty dollars I had to
pony up for a steak as soon as I sank teeth into it.
After supper, I had the concierge call us a van, and took my protesting
wives to the mall. Yes, they had a mall in Kuwait city. Actually, they
had three of them. I took the wives to the Laila Galleria, a western
type mall with American stores like the Gap and JC Penney. Over half
the population of Kuwait were expatriates from other countries, mostly
from India, but there was a large contingent of Westerners. Even
Jamilah had never seen anything like the selection of clothes and the
variety of stores the mall offered. I had one final surprise for them,
as they stood there gawking, I gave each of them a prepaid MasterCard
from the Jordan-Kuwait bank. The cards were in their names and had a
limit of ten thousand dollars.
I could tell they wanted to mob me but they restrained themselves, as
proper wives should. I suggested that Jamilah take Fatima and Adara
clothes shopping while I took Tahani to the Pearlvision outlet. We
agreed to meet back in the same spot in an hour. We split up, and I led
Tahani to the optician. Tahani was able to get a vision exam and select
a couple of different frames before the hour was up. We were told her
glasses would be ready for her right before the mall closed at nine
thirty. Tahani selected a really cute pair of contemporary frames and a
sturdier pair for wearing around the farm. The blowing desert sand
precluded contacts.
When we met up with the others, they had only bought a few items each
for themselves, but each of them bought something for me. It was
touchingly sweet on their part, but wasn't what I had in mind for them
to be doing, so I told them to follow me and headed for a European
store that featured Victoria's Secret type clothing. My wives twittered
among themselves in embarrassment but I was firm in my request that
they get at least two negligees and a robe each. As I suspected, Tahani
and Adara went for sexy, Jamilah went for elegant and Fatima went for
practical because of her pregnancy. Once I had them in the swing of
things, they took it from there with new stylish abayas, shoes and even
underwear.
Everyone was in a good mood by the time we picked up Tahani's glasses
and headed back to the hotel. The women were about to explode trying to
contain their excitement, until we reached our hotel rooms. I was very
happy myself knowing that I had done something to bring them pleasure.
I called down to room service for tea and some pastries while the women
showered and prepared to give me a fashion show. It took almost an hour
for them to shower and primp, but the wait was worth it. Even Jamilah
was giggly as they paraded in and out striking poses and letting me ooh
and aah their selections. They worked their way through the abayas then
started modeling their lingerie.
I was suitably impressed by their selections and told them so. Adara
and Tahani were hot in the baby doll sets they picked out. Fatima
looked cute in her loose chemise, with her growing tummy and larger
than ever breasts. And Jamilah looked sexy in her floor length black
satin and lace number. Adara and Tahani insisted on even modeling their
new underwear. They had bought some bra and panty sets that looked
outstanding on them.
Jamilah joined me in my room when the younger girls had finished
teasing me. She still had on that black number, much to my
satisfaction. I sat her on the bed and told her about the appointment I
had made for Adara the following day. I stressed that it was only a
consultation, and for her not to get her hopes up. The idea that
nothing could be done for Adara was a possibility that had to be
seriously considered, that's why I hadn't said anything until now. I
still didn't want Adara to know the real reason she was seeing the
doctor tomorrow for the same reason. I was going to tell her we were
taking her to see if they could make a special shoe for her to help her
walk better, just in case.
Jamilah just sat there speechless for a few seconds, her eyes wet with
tears. Then she took a deep shuddering breath and threw herself against
me so hard, she knocked me flat onto the bed. As she rained kisses on
my face, she told me that no matter what the doctor said, she was blown
away that I had even thought of this. She finally let me go long enough
to strip me out of my robe and briefs, then proceeded to thank me in a
different way. I forgot about how tired I was from the drive and the
shopping as soon as she took me into her mouth. I never had the chance
to get off my back as she alternately sucked on me then rode me, always
changing between the two just as I was ready to cum. She alternated
back and forth about four times before she locked her lips and slender
fingers around my dick and pistoned them both until I exploded.
The next morning, my wives wore their new abayas and accompanied me to
the very modern Kuwait Medical Center. I told the women that I was
going to the hospital to see if any expatriate Iraqi doctors might
consider working at the clinic we were going to establish. I casually
mentioned that while we were there, we would see if they had an
orthotic device that would help Adara walk better. The thing about
looking for a doctor just popped into my head when I was trying to come
up with a reason for visiting the medical center. I needed to find a
doctor to run the clinic, so it was a good idea nonetheless.
Adara's x-rays and exam took almost two hours. We all stayed with her
the entire time. When the young Kuwaiti doctor finished his exam,
Jamilah and Adara left the room while the doctor and I had a private
conversation. He informed me that he thought that he could restore at
least eighty percent of the function back to Adara's foot and ankle. He
said she might still have a slight limp, but he was confident she would
no longer drag her foot as she did now. I asked him if any Iraqi
doctors worked at the hospital. He replied that he knew a few, but most
of them were well established and making good money. He said he'd call
a couple and arrange for me to meet them.
It turned out to be a good day for both Adara and her mother. Adara was
ecstatic about her chance to walk normally again and readily agreed to
surgery the next month. She would be in a cast and immobile for six to
eight weeks, but it was a small price for her to pay. Jamilah was very
happy also, but what really made her day was the first of the Iraqi
doctors we interviewed. The doctor was a strikingly handsome woman in
her mid to late thirties. Jamilah got a funny look on her face as soon
as she saw the woman. The doctor's eyes widen when they looked at each
other also.
"It has been a long time, Jamilah," the doctor said.
Jamilah looked at her incredulously.
"Aludra?" Jamilah gasped.
Joe J
& Wet Dream-Girl
Chapter
15