The Box Ch 05 Soap And Steam

It had been a feast after famine after the ball. Nights and days, fresh green grass leafed out on arid deserts, spring flowers blossomed on naked branches of trees, festal fireworks lit up starless night skies. He gave her orgasm after orgasm, satiated her long accumulated need, made her start every day with pink cheeks and that wonderful energy that radiates from a satisfied woman. He woke her up in the middle of the night and took her to that warm, pink land under the sheets without her even opening her eyes. He welcomed her home after a long day, pinned her against the wall at the entrance hall and licked her until sweetest honey traveled through her veins. After five weeks of deliciously torturous denial, he gifted her two weeks of sweet release in abundance. She enjoyed and savoured both worlds.

It was a Friday evening and they were relaxing in front of the fireplace with their books and laptops. Their bags were packed for tomorrow; they were going to Istanbul. He was attending the Convention for Science Fiction Writers and she was accompanying him, not missing the opportunity to see this exotic city, capital to two great empires and thousands of years of history. She was quite excited as she loved Orientalist paintings, and she could not wait to see the palaces and bazaars depicted so curiously in all those pictures. She knew it was a modern metropolis now but could not overcome the stereotypical images of exotic harems and mysterious Byzantine underground labyrinths that occupied her mind about the city. She was sure to see the modern side of it but hoped to get a glance of the exotic too. In fact she had made some arrangements to that end.

This time it was he who noticed the box appearing on the mantlepiece. When he took his attention away from his writing to get a glass of water, his eyes fell on the box, sitting there unexpectedly on its usual place.

"Well, well" he said. "Someone's playing my game. Okay, I will play."

She had been excitedly waiting for him to notice it, so she smiled when he stood up and went to the box. He took the box from the mantlepiece and sat next to her on the sofa, the box placed on his knee. "May I?" he asked, and reached out to her necklace without needing to wait for an answer, took the key gently from the chain, inserted it, and turned it in the lock.

That familiar "Click", and now he was excited and curious. He lifted the lid which had popped open, and found a small ornate silver and gold dish inside.

"A 19th century miniature water bowl," she said.

The next day they flew for half a day and settled in their finely decorated hotel room overlooking the blue waters of the Bosphorus. The convention would not start until tomorrow. For two days it would be very busy for him but she would have the whole five days to herself to discover the streets and get immersed in the rich and vibrant history and architecture.

Although this afternoon, it was time for his gift.

She had shown him the water bowl yesterday but had not made any other explanations. She had merely said that it would be a surprise, a present. It was an antique bowl, so it could be about an adventurous visit to the vast antique markets of the bazaars, he thought. Or perhaps, she would arrange a fiery scene in a secluded palace room. Even the blurry thought of this possibility gave him a hard on in his trousers. He asked a few times, but always got the same answer: a mischievous smile telling him to wait.

At The Hammam

The large wooden doors of the hammam opened and they stepped inside a breathtaking marble space. The dome had star-shaped tiny windows on it, from which soft beams of lights stellated down the spacious "hararet" room, giving it a mystic feeling.

According to the guide, "hararet" meant "hot", which would explain the very warm temperature. There was a large heated rectangular marble table in the middle, but there was nobody on it. In fact the hammam was empty except for the two, as it was past its closing time and she had paid extra to rent it after hours. On the sides all around the place there were niches with fountains and basins.

They were given thin cotton towels to wrap themselves with but she wanted to use them later. He was in his thin cotton morning robe and she in a very light, loose silk dress, pastel pink. She was also wearing a long pearl necklace dangling as low as her belly, and hairpins with pink roses were decorating her brown hair. She wanted to look special. Both their feet were bare; they had left everything else outside. Her shapely naked feet were very beautiful, her toenails were polished with red nail varnish which contrasted with her light skin colour. With each step on the warm marble floor her silk dress swayed against the air, she looked almost weightless, as if gliding further into the space.

Mesmerised by the mystical atmosphere of the hammam and aroused by her seductive walk deeper in this strange unknown place, he followed her into one of the private rooms. After he entered, she closed and locked the door.

This room was a miniature version of the larger space outside, although instead of the high dome, there was a lower dome, and no windows. There were soft lights on the walls and mood was very relaxed. The sound of water running from the brass fountains and overflowing from the marble basin echoed in the empty steamy space, gave it an increasingly alluring atmosphere. Reed flute was playing very quietly in the background.

She swayed towards him in her seductive manner, stood very close to his body her feet touching his feet, and without breaking eye contact, she whispered, slowly, emphasising each word.

"I am your concubine."

Hearing these words gave him a full hardness, his cock throbbed with an instant arousal. Visions from fantasies in oriental palaces, colourful scenes from a thousand and one nights harems rushed to the surface from his unconscious and filled him with a pressing, overwhelming lust.

The room was hot and steamy, her thin silk dress was getting damp with the water vapour in the air and sticking on her flesh. Her hard nipples protruded visibly from the thin material now. Her round ass was barely covered by the sheer fabric. He fought his instincts to grab her in his arms, place her on the cushioned marble divan on the side, and savagely take her.

Still keeping eye contact with him, with a charming smile on her face, she took off his robe and guided him to lie face down naked on the heated marble table in the middle. She placed a folded towel under his head, and sat on his thighs close to his ass, without letting go much of her body weight onto his body. She took out some massage oil from the small fabric bag she was carrying, and started to rub his back with her soft hands. Her hands were soft, but her touch provided enough pressure to press the right points and relax his muscles. She massaged his neck, his shoulders, his back all the way down and paid special attention to his ass, massaged his cheeks, even applied some lingering pressure to his opening, eliciting a light moan from him.

After some more time spent on his back, she asked him to turn over, which he did. Her silk dress on his bare flesh felt as good as the touch of her hands as she moved up and down, right and left, massaging his chest. When finished with his upper body, she took some more massage oil in her warm hands, and reached for his hard cock, which had been protruding but neglected all this time. Her slippery warm hands grasped his cock gently, and she started to massage his cock, moving her hands up and down, alternating between right and left hand, keeping a slow steady rhythm. His eyes were closed as he was making appreciating sounds, echoing from the marble walls. In a while, she stopped. He opened his eyes, on the edge, wanting more. She knew that, but she was going to prolong his waiting, thus his pleasure.

She stood up and took his hand as they moved to the fountain on the wall. She indicated that he sit on the marble wall next to the basin, and she settled on the wooden stool placing herself in front of him.

She took the metal water bowl which was ready on the marble, and filled it with water from the full basin. She checked the water temperature, and made it just right. With slow dainty movements, she brought the bowl over to him and carefully poured the water over his head. Over and over, she filled the water bowl with warm water and poured it on all over his body, until he was totally wet. Her silk dress got very wet too in the process and stuck to her naked body now. She was extremely sexy, all her curves were visible under the wet silk dress, the pearl necklace did nothing to cover her body but accentuated her elegant beauty. He sighed against this view.

She took the natural bath sponge, wet it under the fountain, and made lots of foam using the olive oil soap, an indigenous duo. She moved closer to him now touching his knees and feet, and started to wash his body. She ran the foamy sponge over his left arms then the right, his chest, his neck, the back of his neck; then she ran two foamy fingers behind his ears, which sent shivers to his throbbing cock. She washed his thighs and knees, and bent down on her stool and washed his lower legs and ankles. He loved to watch how her ass rose up in the air as she bent. Then she raised his right foot on her lap, ran the sponge gently around it, and started to massage his foot using the foam instead of massage oil. Her thumbs would press different points on his foot, each pressure point relaxing him more, leaving him in heavenly bliss. She gave this special treatment to his left foot too, then rinsed her hands, and made more foam.

The room was filled with steam and her movements, her touches, everything was getting blurry in a steamy cloud. A cloud of steam, and a cloud of altered consciousness with his arousal filled his vision.

With the fresh foam in her hands, she gently approached his manhood, and started washing it with her bare hands covered in foam. She was enjoying feeling the hardness in her hand, she always had a fascination with the erect male organ, and she adored his. The washing extended into fondling, she was moving her hand up and down his length, grasping it as her hand moved. He was in bliss, lost in sensation. The steamy room, the echoing sound of water, her wet clothes, her hands on his cock... He was moaning in ecstasy, he was going to explode any second now; but she stopped.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. As his eyes were met with her lascivious smile, he did not say anything to ask for more. He knew better to leave himself in her hands.

Like earlier, she took some water from the basin into the water bowl, and started to rinse him. Bowl after bowl she poured water on his body with one hand, and rinsed him with the other. He was going to help to rub foam away with his hand, but she held the hand and kissed it, then placed it aside.

"I will take care of you" she said, suggestively.

He gasped.

Upon finishing rinsing him, she got a snow white towel and first dried her wet dress and her body, then with another towel started to dry him. She wrapped his hair and his head softly inside the towel and dried them. Then she moved the towel on his shoulders and his chest, his legs and even his feet she dried with care, with feminine gentleness. Next she wrapped the towel around his shoulders and back like a blanket, put her face against his chest, and smelt the place where his neck met his shoulder. She inhaled his fresh soapy scent in, and leaned her head onto his chest.

Her breasts under her wet silk dress were rubbing against his body. He could smell her essence on her hair. He could not wait anymore. Like a wounded wolf, he grabbed her chin in his hand and kissed her lips, fiercely, passionately, first the lower lip then the top, then he sucked both lips into his mouth, kept kissing her as if wishing to consume her, invaded her mouth with his mouth, with his tongue, kissed her and kissed her, until he grabbed her round ass with both of his hands, held her off the ground, and placed her gently on the divan across the fountain. Hungrily, he took the pearl necklace and the wet silk dress off her, exposing her naked body fully before him. Hastily, he started to suck her nipples, took her breasts into his mouth sucking them too, eliciting moans of pleasure from her. He opened her legs which were bent at the knees over the divan with his hands to the sides and moved his head in between, and started a fervent assault on her lips, on her dripping opening, on her clit with his tongue. He was not licking her but eating her, with an animalistic desire. He fucked her opening with his tongue, then he sucked her clit more, twirling his tongue around the little nub, tapping it with fast rhythmic moves, at the same time he inserted a finger into her slick hole and started to fuck her with two fingers, twisting them inside her, touching that very spot inside. She was a panting and gasping jelly on the divan now, before long, she came with a shriek cry. Her body shuddered under his tongue and fingers, as she pulled his hair, her fingers entwined in it.

As they had turned off the taps after the wash, the sound of water was coming only from a pool's fountain outside now, like music. The low sound of reed flute rising from the hidden speakers was mixing with the distant sound of water, and filling the room with an other worldly ambiance. She was covered in sweat both because of the steam in the warm room and because of her powerful orgasm. So was he.

She lay there naked on the divan, spent. She pulled his head on her chest and hugged him close, embraced him and the moment for some time. Soon though, she shifted her position and found his lips, and started to kiss him. He was satisfied with her satisfaction but he yearned for his own release, so he welcomed the kiss and responded to her lips with desire. Not breaking the kiss, she reached down to his groin, only to find his hardness with her hand, and started stroking it with fast strokes. She then broke the kiss, reached for a towel and put it on the floor, folded, and kneeled on it.

He was now sitting on the divan and she was kneeling between his legs. She reached with her head and took his hard cock in her mouth, gently. She started to take its entire length in her mouth, then a little bit out, then all the way in again, sucking it with a steady rhythm, savouring him. She had not felt so servile in her life before. There, kneeling before him in the hammam, she was not herself, she was indeed a concubine, his concubine, from centuries ago. As if her life depended upon it, she licked and sucked and sucked and licked his cock, taking it all the way in her throat, taking it deep, sucking it fast. She was doing this with the greatest pleasure, with the greatest submission, with utmost care and devotion. His encouraging grasp on her hair and his lustful moans delighted her. She continued with pleasure until he let out a brief moan and warm liquid filled her mouth. She savoured his seed obsequiously like she savoured her cock. She swallowed it all and kept his cock inside her mouth until he was ready to take it out himself.

He pulled her next to him gently on the divan, having opened her some space, and they snuggled close, in bliss, for some time.

"Thank you, my loving concubine," he said.