Chapter 3
It is at this point, dear listener, that I would remind you that though we have traveled millennia for my tale's beginning, our story itself has thus far chronicled less than a single hour. For all the flash and wonder, little had happened in the world itself outside of my grubby little alleyway, and dear Bekhat yet slept in blissful ignorance. All these great changes slumbered within me, invisible as the thoughts that whirled madly through my mind on the short walk back into my home.
It was contradiction that captured me most; I had power now, power over the hearts of any women in the world, yet still my own soul rested with one who loved me already of her own free will.
And there she was, shifting slightly to move her eyes away from the slit of light that had snuck its way past the curtains to illuminate an enticing hint of her skin. Such a lovely woman Bekhat was; fierce in her loyalty her own, submissive utterly to her beloved, with a tongue that could bring the heights of ecstasy or flay the paint from the wall depending on her mood.
The dark waves of her hair were unchanged over the years, falling across shoulders of a rich gold hue and framing a petite face with brown, almond-shaped eyes (a gift from some far-sailing ancestor who had returned with a prize of a wife) and bow-shaped lips that never needed the stain of berries to shine red. She was, it is true, no more the slip of a girl she had once been, and it suited her magnificently. The curve it had added to her hips, the weight of her breasts that rested so perfectly in my hands, had made her more beautiful than even I had ever thought possible. I may have been slightly biased about her beauty, granted, but the speculative looks from male, and sometimes female, neighbors when they did not believe me watching suggested otherwise.
It was as I stared that a new knowledge impressed itself upon me: the mortal realm was but thin for me, and all that lay beneath it was visible as though through a dirty glass, or perhaps a coloured bottle. I do not literally mean beneath the surface, dear listener; though I have no doubt that I could look beneath the skin, what would be the purpose? To examine the health of her kidneys? No, no, no; it was the soul beneath the skin that I glimpsed.
Did I glimpse into her heart to see whether her love for me was truth? Was I so insecure, so afraid of my own unworth? Dear listener, I was, and the hearthfires of love, banked and gently burning, that I saw there within will shame me for my doubt every day until the sun is dark and the gods sleep again. Yet as some wise mortal so perfectly summarized, it is better to regret that which is done than that which is not, and that truth slightly lessens shame's burn.
I awakened her with a deep kiss, and she muzzily looked down past the swells of her breasts and belly to smile at the sight of my taking a taste of her. By the gods, she was sweeter than honey, my Bekhat.
And yet, and yet...this was my wife, my beloved, and I knew her as no other. After a thousand nights shared together, I knew her with my every sense; I would have sworn that I could pick her unerringly out of an entire harem in pitch blackness without a word spoken. Yet her taste was new.
Could this have been some effect of the Djinn's power, spent without my knowledge? No, I decided, nothing so sinister. The change was in myself. I was seeing her with new eyes, touching her with new hands... Tasting her with a new tongue.
She groaned appreciatively, stroking her hands through my hair and returning my attention to the matter at hand and at tongue. I slipped a finger within her as I licked at the top of her entrance, reveling at the feel of her, the smell of her. And... Something more was new. There was some shimmer to the trails my tongue left that that had never been there, some iridescent catch to the light. Not thinking too much of it, I plunged my tongue deep within her, and it was only at her gasp of delighted surprise that I realized that my tongue was reaching deeper than it had any right to do.
Such a strange day, I marveled, but such is life. I explored the dexterity of my tongue, seeking out that place at her roof that your people now call a g-spot and stroking, then flicking the tip of my tongue along it. She thrashed against my arms and I held her hips to me tightly, determined to see just what heights my darling could find. She reached peak after peak, her hands alternating between clutching my head, stroking her own sides and clenching at our thin sheets. Her voice rose from a single moan to a cry, which cut off in a series of gasps, to be replaced in turn by a rising shriek.
At last, her thrashing moved into a prolonged shuddering limpness, and her cries fell to gasps. I ceased my ministrations, wiped my lips clean with the thin blanket of our bed and moved myself up beside her to kiss her cheek and hold her against me as she recovered.
"What demon did you find within you this morning, my darling?" She asked when she could speak again.
"One that reminded me of how much I treasure you, my love," I said, though the romance of the words was perhaps hindered by the shefti I was pulling over my head at that moment. "The kind that left me burning in need of you," I said more clearly, and her eyes glittered in reflection of the fire in my own.
An instant later I was deep within her, rejoicing in her arms and legs wrapping herself around me entirely. A thought occurred: I was never a man of great stature, as has been mentioned, and yet there was strength in my limbs that I had never known, and I saw the sheen of lean muscle that the early light reflected from my own limbs.
At that moment, so closely were we entwined that my sense of being was somewhat intermingled with her, and I felt the strength that grew in us both. My hands reached down to clasp and knead her lovely thighs, to drive her hips against my own with yet greater urgency. I could never resist a few swats on her lovely behind, and as I raised a hand, I marveled that my hand and arm had grown noticeably thicker.
My breathing still deep and even, I lifted my chest up from her, bracing myself on my elbows. Never slowing my pace, never ceasing my pounding within her, our eyes locked and our rhythm sped up further.
I lost all focus to the pleasure then, the pace increasing until our bed was near to collapse, staring into her eyes and the pleading for more that they held. Her eagerness to meet me with each thrust, the determination of her to take in all of me, her glittering eyes urging me on, all of it drove me to frenzy.
When at last I burst within her, she met me with a final shuddering peak of her own. The intensity of it was shocking, our backs arching even as we held to each other, on and on as waves of crackling pleasure surged through and between us. Eye contact broke when her own soft brown orbs lost focus and rolled back.
Eventually, tragically, even the most timeless of moments passes. The world lets out its breath and reality resumes once more for its overwhelmed inhabitants. I rolled onto my back beside her and wondered at how, unlike my dear, recently-awakened wife beside me, I was not out of breath. I felt no exhaustion, and most impossibly of all, I was not sated. The greatest sex of my life, better than could be managed by an immortal creature of lust... and I was still as hard and as eager as a teenage virgin.
But while I was yet aroused, some respite had been provided. As my head cleared of the soft clouds of lust, one thing was now quite clear to me: that I was something quite different from the man I was, something I very thoroughly did not understand. I... needed counsel.
