Arabian Mirage

Sinuous and twisting, the smoke rises from a stick of incense. Eyes bright, kohl dark, her gaze narrows as she sights an intruder into her private domain. Hips harem ample sway with untold delights, the jingle-jangle of coins and bells echoes as she crosses the floor. The woman frowns upon the intruder, her gaze drifting along his young body.

She reaches out one hand and flippantly rips his T-shirt down the middle, exposing a delineated chest and taut stomach. He draws back, part fear, and part rising excitement. A smile graces her lips, and her tongue tip moistens her full bottom lip. She eyes the jeans with obvious distaste.

“Remove them...” clipped accent and sensual purr.

“How did I...” he makes one last effort at reality.

“Shhhh...” is the murmured response. It tugs at his desire and makes his fear fade like the wisps of incense smoke. His hands move almost of their own accord to the button-fly; the jeans soon fall, revealing a taut young body, ready to please her. She points over to a marble column.

“Stand there, close your eyes,” again a demanding purr. It moves across his soul.

The voice leaches any resistance he might have had. He moves slowly to the pillar until he is standing, feet braced slightly apart, hair a sooty tumble down past his nipples. He closes his eyes, head falling forward into an unconsciously submissive posture.

Silken soft hands with steel hard nails gently push him back until he is firmly braced against the pillar. Whispers that sound like more than her voice tell him what to do. The marble is cold but his body is fevered. When he tries to move from the chill he realizes he can do no more than arch. He would cry out, but his mouth is covered. He feels soft silken wrappings binding him to the pillar, wrapping each leg firmly, all the way up to mid-thigh.

The silken strands begin again right at his pelvic bone, crisscrossing up his chest, his arms brought slightly behind him. With this movement he brings himself off balance, so he is now partially supported by silken strands. His body arches among the strands, a beautiful butterfly caught in her silken web.

A rich chuckle answers his struggles; his eyes flutter open to nothingness, a strand crossing his eyes. His other senses sharpen as his blood pumps faster. He can smell her near. Her sweat as sweet and spicy as an unpronounceable desert, like the flavor of incense and woman.

He feels her hands again, sliding over his body as hard as the marble column that supports him and cock just as upright. A soft hand slips around his erection, grasping and sliding, till he is thrusting thoughtlessly into her hand. She chuckles again, leaning forward to taste her treat. Her tongue flicks out and across his collarbone just as her hand releases his throbbing cock to the cool air.

Her teeth and tongue move across his body with sensuous ease, tasting his rampant desire. Her nails work tracery over his flesh, sometimes hard enough to raise his flesh in a little furrow of pain, other times so soft he is not sure if it is her or the ties that bind him.

His body twists among the ties. They seem to pull him ever closer to the coolness of the pillar. His mind drifts as his body sinks into sensations from another world. For a moment he struggles against the ties, but they are not there, and he feels like he is falling, but she catches him.

Her breasts surround him like water-rich melons, ripe and equally sweet. His tongue tastes them, the taste of incense strong on her silken warmth. His hips part her willing thighs, seeking the heat of the desert with the wetness of an oasis. Her hands are again grasping his throbbing cock, leading it into her sweet oasis.

He thrusts deep within her, filling her voluptuous softness with his hardened cock.

Thrusting again and again, his passion builds as quickly as the heat of the day on the sands, scalding him with its incandescent heat. He arches sinking into a vortex of sensation among cushions of silk road decadence. Enveloped in her softness and slick femininity, he looses his seed, his soul, and his heart.

Time ends. He can not even hear his own heartbeat. Then it starts again, still an unsteady tempo. He reaches for her, to encounter only the taste of remembered incense. He closes his eyes as the sunlight spills across his bed, the silken tangle of sheets a cruel reminder.