Arabian Night

Night has fallen in the desert.

Inside a luxurious tent hung with rich drapes and strewn with thick, intricately woven carpets a man relaxes nude on low silk cushions. He sips thick, sweet Turkish coffee from a tiny cup on a silver tray that gleams in lantern light. He is a powerful man – a leader of his people, accustomed to deciding the fates of hundreds with a sweep of his hand. But this night the tables will be turned and his fate will lie in the small hands of a dancing girl.

Suddenly the walls of the tent flutter as if from a gust of wind. The lamp flames flicker and dim. When they brighten he is no longer alone. A woman stands silent before him. She is covered in rich fabrics the colors of exotic spices: a cinnamon silk skirt, slit to reveal harem pants of the sheerest saffron gauze. A heavy belt dripping with coins and gold beads rests low on her hips. A matching bra encases her full breasts and her wrists and neck are encircled with intricate gold filigree. All this is barely visible through a shimmering saffron veil that leaves only her green eyes and tumbling auburn hair exposed to his direct view.

He hears the low beat of a hand drum begin and the sinuous melody of a long wooden flute. The woman's arms rise above her head as if compelled by the music and he is instantly mesmerized by the movement, by the soft curves of her body barely glimpsed through the veil, by her pale skin. He fears to move, lest this vision vanish like a mirage. Her dance begins.

The music is slow and her movements sinuous and graceful. She turns, skirts swirling out to reveal hints of firm legs through the gauzy harem pants. She moves closer, eyes filled with promise, then away, teasingly out of reach. As she dances she removes the veil, but keeps it between him and her, giving fleeting views of her rippling belly and swaying hips through the thin fabric. She draws near. It's as if she has bound him in place with a magic spell. He can't move to reach for her, even though his body has responded with a powerful, throbbing erection. She flings the veil and it settles over his face and naked body.

Standing before him, undulating to the music, she reaches behind her back, removes the bra in one smooth motion and tosses it casually on the carpet. Her dark aroused nipples are exposed and her gold necklace caresses the tops of her naked breasts. He is jealous of that necklace. She continues dancing, her eyes never leaving his. A hand at her hip and the skirt drops away leaving her in only the saffron harem pants and hip belt. She dances closer, at his feet. In a graceful movement she removes the thin pants and now moves before him wearing only the heavy belt and jewelry. He has pulled her veil from his face so that nothing will block the view of her pale skin gleaming in the lantern light.

With a spin and a flourish she drops to her knees, legs parted on the soft carpet, and unhooks the belt which falls to the floor. She arches her naked body backward, hair brushing the floor behind her, exposing her smooth, bare sex to his hungry eyes.

She undulates in that position for a moment, arms snaking in the air above her head and then comes forward on hands and knees to crawl over his body, breasts swaying in a dance of their own. He is trapped, immobile as if he was chained, knowing if he dares to move, the dream will end. This powerful man, so used to command, submits to let his body be used by a small woman with burning green eyes. For this night, he is her slave.

She moves carefully over his body, so close he can feel the heat from her skin, but carefully not touching except for an occasional brushing contact that sends shock waves through him. She keeps moving up until her smooth thighs straddle his head and the perfume of her sex fills his head. She lowers her hips and his tongue reaches up to gather a taste of the honey from between her dark lips. She trembles and sighs at his touch. He continues, running he tongue the length of her slit, teasing inside, moving up to delicately circle her swelling clitoris. She moans. He begins feasting on her more in earnest, aroused by her sighs and moans. His tongue is everywhere but keeps coming back to that stiffening bud, flicking, swirling, sucking on it. He dares to move a hand, adding one finger and then two. Slipping them inside to massage her special spot as his tongue continues to tease her clit. She is gasping for air. He must use his other strong hand to hold her trembling body in place. Then there is a suspended moment of taut stillness before she sails over the precipice of her climax, crying out and curling her body over his head. He desperately wants to grab this woman, throw her down on the tasseled cushions and thrust his aching cock into her until he explodes, but he knows he mustn't do that. Tonight he is the servant and she is the master – taking what she wants.

What she wants is not so far away. It is wildly stiff and hard, straining towards her. He is so aroused he knows it will be the challenge of his life to restrain his own climax until she is done with him. The mighty ruler is afraid of failing.

She moves down his body, trailing her fingertips lightly over him, tracing his lips, gently following the line of his jaw, exploring his neck and chest, circling his nipples. Her hand trails lower, follow the line of dark hair to his belly. Lower. Soft as a desert breeze, her hand settles gently on his straining cock. It jumps violently beneath her hand but he maintains control. Her hand is like a curious animal, exploring the contours, the smooth skin for it's own pleasure – not concerned about what he might be feeling, not trying to arouse. The hand takes its time, running the length of the hard shaft, dipping into the shining precum at the tip and spreading it lazily over the soft head, massaging the balls below and reaching further back to explore the sensitive skin between the testicles and the anus. Moving up to grasp the shaft, squeezing and releasing pressure without sliding. He grows even harder. Her hunger begins to rise again.

Holding his erection in her hand, oblivious to his precarious state, she moves it between her legs and uses it to gently caress and massage her sex. She rubs the smooth head up and down her slit, slipping it between the slick lips and pressing it to her clit. She sighs with pleasure and slowly. Very slowly. Begins to lower her body, enveloping just the head in her hot, wet flesh. She pauses there, enjoying the feeling of just the first inches filling her entrance, moving up and down very slightly. He fights for control. She continues to move up and down taking a little more inside her on each stroke until there is nowhere left to go. She stops there keeping very still, savoring the feeling of being filled. For him, the sensation of being encased in her soft, warm pussy and yet having to remain still is maddening and it only becomes more maddening as he feels her muscles begin to massage his cock. She moans and sighs, lost in her own world of erotic pleasure, starting and stopping her movements, changing directions to suit her need.

She begins to move faster, passion building. Sweat sheens her skin and her hair clings wetly to her face and neck. Still moving and grinding, she leans forward, bringing her breasts to his mouth. He greedily sucks them in one at a time, flicking the erect tips with his tongue, pulling on them with firm lips. She groans loudly and he feels her climax, the waves of contractions gripping him so hard, her hot juices flowing onto him. He can take no more. With a lion's roar he traps her in his strong arms and flings her to the cushions below him. His hips grind urgently into her as she continues to spasm around his bursting manhood. He has never felt so desperate a need. He wants to draw it out. He wants it never to end. But it's too much. He can feel his own climax building to a crest, the tightening, tingling moment of no return. And finally, with a moan torn from the depths of his being he shoots his seed into her, again and again and again, until there is no more left.

In the sudden quiet aftermath the only sound is their breathing. He gazes into her eyes and brushes the damp hair from her face. As their lips meet in a lingering, tender kiss, he knows this was just the first of a thousand and one nights.