I will never forget what it was like to make love to you for the first time. I was so careful with you, at first. I lifted you out of your chair, set you upon the tiny table, and we both trembled as you wrapped your legs around my waist, your arms around my neck.
I could not have been close enough to you, our tongues fiery in each others mouths, our breath and our hearts racing. I freed you from your dress, and although I was the one releasing you, it was as if you were my master, finally unlocking my bonds. Your skin, salty with the sweat of the humidity which surrounded us, covered in goose flesh when I touched it. I removed your bra—not without noting the Western style, something that surprised me—and bent into your chest, inhaled. You shook with anticipation, moaned when my poorly shaven jaw brushed against your nipple. I laid you back, suckled more passionately than any babe ever has, completely swallowed by rapture. You continued to quiver, to moan in the sweetest way.
It didn't take me long to trail, to pull away from your exquisite breasts and move downward. You didn't stop me. I pulled away your underwear, and dropped to my knees, more from overwhelming wonder than from necessity. I closed my eyes and breathed, inhaling your scent, so clean and spicy at the same time, soft hair brushing against my face. I bent in and kissed you gently at first, let my tongue tease your clit, let my breath tickle your skin. You writhed, begged in Arabic, begged in English, prayed for freedom from your need. I smiled and relented, began sucking upon your hood. You screamed in ecstasy, grabbed my hair, thrust me into you. Although I could barely breathe, I could not have been happier, could not have been more enthralled. You were everything I had been imagining these past weeks. I let my hands massage your breasts, hummed onto your clit, let my tongue massage the inside of you, and you sweat, and you came.
"I need you," I whispered, standing up shakily. You propped yourself up, breathless, nipples hard, face flushed, hair wild. And you asked me to take you. I ripped my shirt away, struggled out of my shorts, and you straddled me. We kissed passionately for a moment, my erection rubbing against you without penetrating, your hips grinding against me. I picked you up once more, carried you to the floor in front of my apartment's window.
"They'll see," you whispered, fear sparkling in your eyes for a moment. I sucked at your ear, and you fell back onto the hardwood, back arching. I never calmed your concern, simply lifted your legs up and readied myself. I gazed at you for a moment, waiting for some sign. You glanced up, opening your eyes as if awakening from a dream.
