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Archive name: bedouin.txt (MF, oral, intr, veg)
Authors name: Dancer (empath69@hotmail.com)
Story title : You've Made Your Bedouin, Now Lie In It

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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
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Thank you for your consideration.
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You've Made Your Bedouin, Now Lie In It 
by Dancer (empath69@hotmail.com)

***

It was a case of mistaken identity. I thought I'd paid 
the right person for the figs. I was wrong. Of course I 
was, or there wouldn't be a story, now would there?

The day was hot and arid as I strolled through the 
marketplace in Samovar, Bykahnt. Don't bother looking on 
a map cause Bykahnt isn't on any of them. It's a slip of 
a nation between Yemen and Saudi Arabia on the Arabian 
Peninsula and very oil rich. Between you and me, I 
should've taken that left turn at Albuquerque.

The sellers hawked their wares - from fresh fruit to 
stolen mummies - but all I wanted was some nice, plump 
figs. My weakness, my passion. I love those fat little 
fruits and found a withered, old man offering a dozen for 
two thents (two bits American). I jumped at the chance, 
forked over my money to the man and claimed the figs. A 
younger, old man started berating me in a language I 
didn't understand just as I popped one piece in my mouth.

Robed, armed men came outta nowhere, surrounding me with 
rifles pointed. The figs hit the sand as my arms shot 
above my head. One swarthy, burly character grabbed one 
wrist and twisted my arm high behind my back. He forced 
me to walk ahead of him toward an adobe-type, brick 
building with heavy security. He shoved me through the 
iron gates, prodded me into an open doorway and pushed me 
along a narrow corridor.

He barked at the guard standing outside a closed door. 
The guard stepped inside for a second, then returned and 
motioned us to go in. The room was an office of some sort 
with huge desk in the center and an equally swarthy man 
seated behind it. My escort babbled to the man, what I 
don't know, and took a step back, jamming the barrel of 
his gun into my kidneys. The seated man sighed, placed 
his pen above the papers he'd been scribbling on and 
looked up at me.

"Rahjid tells me you are a thief," he stated in 
unaccented English and steepled his fingers. "Do you know 
what the penalty for stealing in my country is? You lose 
a hand."

"Look, I did not steal anything," I explained, planting a 
fist on one hip. "I paid for those figs. I gave the old 
man my two thents."

"Ah. What did this...old man...look like?"

I huffed. "An Arab," I told him sarcastically. "What the 
hell do you think he looked like? A fiddler crab?" The 
man arched a black brow and waited. "He was the one with 
no teeth, instead of the other old man with four. He wore 
one of those funky fezzes on his bald head and had only 
six fingers...combined."

"You should have handed the money to Young Ahmad. He runs 
the kiosk you were arrested at." I detected the wisp of a 
smile as he amended, "Young Ahmad has four teeth, as you 
noted."

"Well, can you chop off my left hand? I'll need my right 
one to sign the disability checks from the government," I 
retorted, staring him down. The wisp changed to a full 
smile and I hoped he saw the humor in my remark. He spoke 
to the guard and waved me away with the flick of a wrist. 

Rahjid snagged my arm painfully, dragged me from the room 
and walked me along the corridor. We passed several 
closed doors until he stopped in front of the last one on 
the left. He shoved it open, pushed me inside and locked 
it. "Nice digs," I muttered, taking in the plush decor.

The walls were a blinding white color and an enormous bed 
dominated the room. I spied a large chest of drawers and 
an armoire butting against the far wall, a partially shut 
door to the right of me and two small tables on either 
side of the bed. The sheets and pillows were maroon and 
navy blue, hinting that a man probably slept here. Was it 
the man who questioned me?

I glanced around, trying to look inconspicuous as I 
strolled over to the door standing ajar. I peeked inside 
and found a bathroom with Jacuzzi. "Very nice digs," I 
corrected myself.

I jumped at the sound of a man's voice. "I see you've 
taken the opportunity to have a look around," he said. It 
was the questioner and he carried a large wooden bowl. 
"Ms. Gail Chesler, are you prepared for your sentence?"

"How do you know who I am?" I demanded, folding my arms 
across my chest. "And just who're you?"

"My father is King Hadid, which makes me Price Ahlan of 
Bykahnt and I know your name because I approved your 
visit." He walked - no - strutted toward the bed and sat 
down on the well-padded mattress, then gestured for me to 
do the same.

"What's in the bowl?" I asked as I sat, narrowing my eyes 
to slits.

He plucked a fat fruit out and held it to me. "Figs."

I dried my sweaty palms on the knees of my jeans. "Is 
this going to be like the time my mom caught me smoking 
and made me smoke a whole pack in one shot?" I'd stuffed 
myself with figs a few years back and all that happened 
was I got the worst case of diarrhea in my life.

"Since you seemed unfazed by losing a hand, I thought of 
a better way to curb your appetite," the prince replied 
and caressed the fig along my lower lip. I opened my 
mouth to ask what and he stuffed it inside, giving me no 
choice but to eat it. "One hour as my lover," he stated.

"Hey!" I cried and received another fig for my troubles.

"Two hours," he stated, a knowing glint in his deep brown 
eyes. Swallowing, I clamped my lips firmly shut and 
willed myself to stay mum. The capitalist side of my 
nature badgered me, telling me this guy was a prince and 
I could be looking at Easy Street by becoming his lover, 
if only for a while. The deal was, I had questions I 
wanted answers too and whenever I went to say something, 
he'd plopped another fig in my mouth. "Nothing kinky, 
Gail," Ahlan said and rubbed a piece against the seam of 
my lips.

I jumped off the bed and ran into the bathroom, locking 
the door. "I have questions, your worship!" I shouted 
through the door.

"Ask away," he shouted back.

"Monetary compensation! Do I get paid? What about kids? 
What happens if we mess up and I'm pregnant?" I yelled 
out the two pressing details.

"I will settle a trust for you in say, a million American 
dollars," he called. His voice was clear and soft and I 
pictured him whispering along the door, "If there is a 
child, we will marry. There are no hidden surprises. For 
each fig you consume, it guarantees us an hour of loving 
making as a man should love a woman."

I unlocked and tugged the door open. He leaned 
negligently along the frame. He was an aristocrat with 
haughty good looks. I could do worse. I -have- done 
worse! "You're up two hours," I said and fished a fig 
from the bowl he still held, holding to his mustached 
face. "Eat this and I get a free sample of how good you 
might be in bed," I informed him boldly. He snapped his 
lips around the fruit, pushed it to one side and sucked 
my fingers. Now I know why guys get so turned on when 
women do the same thing.

Ahlan captured my hand, held it in place as he placed the 
bowl on the carpet and sank to his knees. He worked the 
fly of my jeans open and drew the denim over my hips. He 
withdrew my fingers from between his lips, tucked his 
hands through the gap of my thighs and buried his dark 
face against my pussy.

I grabbed for the doorjamb with both hands as he drove 
his princely tongue far into my slit, licking me to an 
immediate orgasm. My brain fogged over from its intensity 
and I gazed down at him with unfocused eyes. Wiping the 
clotted cum off his black facial hair, Ahlan asked 
rhetorically, "You are pleased with my abilities?"

He reached over, removed a beautifully plump fig from the 
dish and gingerly eased it inside my hole. He cradled the 
fruit with two fingers, pressing all three along the 
ceiling of my pussy while resuming his oralization. "Aye 
chihuahua!" I croaked when his teeth grazed my clitoris 
and his pursed lips suckled the nubbin fiercely.

My legs buckled from the wild sensations emanating up 
through my groin but Ahlan placed his free hand against 
the small of my back to keep me erect. My body went taut 
as a second, mind-numbing orgasm coursed through me. The 
fingers and fruit disappeared out of my cunt and his 
highness shifted his head from between my thighs. I 
sagged onto my knees, unable to stand without help.

Scooping my limp form into his arms, he carried me over 
to the bed and laid me down gently. He took off the rest 
of clothes, then removed his own before resting his nude 
body atop mine. The hardness of his cock brushed against 
my inner thigh and I splayed myself for him.

He grasped the crook of my knees in each hand, raised the 
appendages high and plunged his erection firmly inside my 
slick heat. His shaft felt slightly different as he 
fucked me with long, penetrating strokes and I realized 
my lover was uncircumcised. Looming above me, he rested 
my bent legs in his crooked elbows, which gave him total 
access to every inch of my sheath.

I dragged his head down and kissed him thoroughly, 
tasting myself on his cum stained tongue. I found not 
one, but two juicy figs pocketed in his cheeks and 
snagged the one in his left cheek. I levered it to his 
parted lips and sucked the sodden fruit from his mouth, 
only to have him fight me by sucking it, too. 

Undeterred, I bit it in half and chewed my part quickly. 
The prince's thrusts became more urgent until he drove 
himself as deep inside me as he could and his cock jerked 
and twitched. He smashed his slightly open mouth hard 
against mine, slipping his lingual muscle quickly inside.

Hot liquid flooded my hole and Ahlan tipped my hips up to 
ensure none of it dripped onto the sheets. The change of 
position forced his thick shaft deeper inside me, causing 
my vaginal walls to shudder anew. I tore my mouth free 
and gulped much needed oxygen into my lungs, crying out 
with each breath. He was incredible! All I can say is, 
figs anyone?

end

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 18