After being rescued by Arab tribesmen after her plane went down Lady Mary is brought to their oasis town.
In the morning Lady Mary woke with first light. At first wondering where she was. A sound she recognised as a call to prayer filling the air. She had heard them on the coast too. Had there several mosques joined each other in a contest here only one baritone voice sang the old words.
Then she got aware of the state of her body. Her nightgown had moved up along her body, now rumpled over one breast as she was laying on that side, leaving the other and all the rest of her towards her toes naked as she was born. The bare breast was cupped in the hand of the man who was sleeping with his face nuzzled against hers. A hard object pressed against her buttocks, a leg pressed between hers touching her in her most private place. The owner of all those affectionate bodyparts was still fast asleep. His breathing deep and slow.
Shock made Mary freeze and then try to wiggle free from him. This had never happened during their trip through the desert with his caravan. But then they had been fully clothed and not sleeping in a normal bed. Somehow in his sleep he must have reacted to her touch.
Her frantic wiggling however had him awake in a minute. She had turned her face towards him and now with his only a few inches away from hers she could see realisation dawn on it. Then however a wide smile surfaced. "Bonjour, good morning," he croaked. The hand on her breast tugging her towards him, his body moving to cover hers, bending down to kiss her.
"Amira, habibti"
She felt his hand move over her torso. Cupping now both her breasts and softly kneading them. Her nipples pebbled. His lips sucking on hers. She felt him spread her legs with his knees and the tip of his penis pressing against her channel.
-.-
Sheik Omar now fully woke up. He felt the urge to plunge inside that heavenly soft white flesh but then sharply came to his senses. She was a widow and untouchable for months according to the same laws he as a tribal leader had to uphold. He moved himself to her side but could not stop himself stroking her.
If he would not enter her he would not break those laws would he?
Her skin felt like satin. His fingers trailed to her belly moving slowly down towards her sex. Stroking her thighs. Kissing her neck, her nose, her mouth, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts and those pink pebbles. Her nipples were like fruits on her aureoles showing off her arousal.
His hand at last reached her furry mons. So different from the local custom to shave it all. His fingers trailed the soft lips and he could hear her breathing go laboured.
"Omar," she said. "Omar" followed by a stream of words in her own language and French words that made no sense to him.
He muttered soothing words against the pillar of her throat placing soft kisses on her skin. His beard tickling where he went. His hand moving more and more towards her secret garden.
He noticed how wet she was but also how scared and nervous. He did not know how to tell her not to be scared. That he only wanted to give her great pleasure. He would not make her a child yet. He would not even move inside her body. Just see her arch her back and cry out. But he had no idea how to tell her that in a strange language he only used to trade in.
His fingers now circled her clit. He felt her gasp. Her body convulsing against his hand. Her folds wet and warm. Oh how he wanted to invade her. But his fingers had to do. He moved his indexfinger into her channel. She was so tight. He felt her gasp. "Omar, Omar please." Fear mixed with pleasure. His finger moved inside her. Going deeper. Trying to make her relax so his second finger could join. In the meantime his thumb was massaging her clit.
He felt her moan and pressed his finger deeper in her softness.
