Sultry Tales of Sultana Nirtasia

Once upon a time in a land long forgotten there was a Sultan named Brano. He was the richest Sultan who ever lived and could afford many many wives. He had a harem full of the most beautiful women in the world. But his heart belonged only to the Sultana, Nirtasia, who was like no other woman. She had flowing red hair and green eyes, and her body was voluptuous and smooth like a statue's. Her skin was softer than the silk she wore.

The Sultan could spend hours making love with her until she purred like a cat. In fact, he desired her so much that he rarely took pleasure in any other woman. Nirtasia had a great sexual appetite, and the Sultan was very busy in keeping her satisfied (even though he himself was an accomplished and inspired lover), because he was terribly jealous of any other man that went near her. He knew of her powers and was terrified that the male servants and slaves who wandered the palace grounds would somehow get a taste of the glory of her kiss and the nectar between her thighs. He even was envious of the women slaves who brushed her hair, bathed her, applied oil to massage her body and dressed her.

The Sultana was a talented storyteller and poet, and always had intriguing tales to tell. This also kept the Sultan Brano captivated, for it was not only her beauty and sexuality, but also her mind that was unique in the world. He could listen to her voice for hours as she told him of far away places, unusual occurrences, and of strange, mystical spirits and beings. Her poetry was also full of sensual images of fruit and wine, of sea and waves, of sleep and awakening. It was a journey just to listen to her words, while they were in their luscious bed, or at the pool, or near the fire.

Both he and the Sultana were just past the glow of youth, but both radiated with experience and knowledge in many many things. No one is born wise in the ways of love or of the world. And both were of a refined and elegant beauty, and lived a life full of music, exotic food and luxury. She greatly cared for the Sultan, but she did not love him quite as much as he loved her. Besides, her creative mind was in love with life itself and saw each moment as one full of unexpected surprises. She tasted every food, no matter how strange; rejoiced in every melodious song, could feel each individual raindrop as it wet her skin when she stood naked in the rain.

She observed all those who wandered about the palace with great interest, regardless if they were warrior or servant, maiden or wise woman. Paying special attention to the men that approached her, she would look at their hands, and feet, their lips and eyes, listen to their voice and build a picture of them as a lover, a lover serving her. That is how she developed characters and situations for her fascinating tales.

A day came when the Sultan had to travel to a distant land to start a trade of gold and silk with the local Sultan. Before his departure, he spent 24 continuous hours with Nirtasia, to get his fill of her and satisfy her own desires. He would be gone for a month. So on this day they chose to take a walk into the gardens, where rare birds sang in their cages, unusual flowers bloomed and it was cool and fresh, even in the heat of the day. Nirtasia was dressed in a flowing purple gown, with sheer and fine material and her body glowed beneath the fabric. Her bare feet enjoyed the moist stones and her toe rings clicked against the hard surface. On this day she had had the ladies symbolically paint her toenails each a different shade of the rainbow, so that her Sultan would find a pot of gold at the end of his journey and come back successful.

Brano had ordered that a bed be prepared in the middle of the garden, a silk net filled with 200 million freshly picked rose petals. The bed was fragrant and firm, and Nirtasia ran and jumped playfully on this new creation of the Sultan. Just watching her roll there among the rose petals was enough to get the sultan aroused, and as so not to delay any longer, he approached her as she lay on her stomach, untied the purple ribbons that ran down the back of her gown, opened it to expose her back and thighs and buttocks, parted her legs and thrust his throbbing cock into the sweetest cup of nectar, that waited there overflowing between her thighs. She moaned at the first contact, and her pussy widened to accept him, and she succumbed to his desire, as she loved to be taken, to be forced to give up her will and be controlled.

After the first jab into the open wet blossom, the Sultan grabbed her hair, loose on her back, and start pumping his cock into her, in and out, getting harder as he looked down at it, glistening in the sweet-smelling juice that flowed. The more he pumped, the more she moaned in pleasure, the harder he held her hair, the more his cock throbbed. And the wilder the pumping got. It was a complete cycle of lust that kept building. He pumped so hard that if he had not held her hair, perhaps he would have pushed her off the bed.

The roses beneath them were wet now, as the love juice glided down from her pussy to her clitoris. His balls where soaked too, but he would not come, not for an hour, not until he felt he had fucked her soul through and through. Her moaning escalated, frightening the birds in the cages. And that is when he touched her clitoris lightly with the tip of his one finger. And she came in a torrent of sound and sighs, and he allowed his cock to also give up its own milky resin as he felt her cunt throb around him.

With his last few thrusts he overflowed an already flooded sea. And gave out one incredible roar as he fell forward on her back, exhausted, but thrilled at how the last day with Nirtasia before his journey had begun. She slid from beneath him, pulled him unto her breast and so they rested for a while before beginning again. And in this way, or similarly, the 24 hours passed and it was time for the Sultan to depart.

The Sultana bid him farewell with a slow passionate kiss that tasted of honey. She was content and satisfied with the full day she had spent on the bed of roses. During the days that followed, her senses were awake and vibrating, and she enjoyed her usual pleasures of walking naked on the beach, feeling the sun and salt spray on her skin, reading a book in the shade of a fig tree on a hot afternoon, or picking berries and eating them straight off the bushes found in the palace fruit gardens. She was happy enough, even without her Sultan and his abundant and various ways of expressing his love to her.

Of course, she continued her observation of the people that occupied the palace and the grounds. She watched the children play with the monkeys, the old ladies spin beautiful silks and the cooks prepare delicious recipes. There was nowhere in the palace that she did not go. One afternoon as she was feeding the swans and ducks, a manservant caught her attention. He was caring for a newborn foal at the palace stables. He was not much younger than the Sultan, but he was taller and his body was youthful and strong from the strenuous work, like the Arabian horses that were bred in those very stables.

She observed him for a long time, every detail of him, his wavy dark hair falling over his eyes, the muscles in his arms as they stretched and relaxed again as he worked, his thighs and buttocks as they tensed against the thin white fabric that covered his body. That day she was wearing a yellow gown, quite transparent, and she walked up and down quite close to him as she watched him and eventually inquired after his name. He answered her that it was Slavo, while daring to look at her extraordinary beauty quite openly. His eyes glided from her eyes, to her lips, to the sun in her hair, to the haze of nipple just showing beneath her clothes.

Under his gaze, her heart began to beat faster, making her breasts heave up and down more quickly from her affected breathing. Slavo noticed what his presence did to the Sultana and he felt a stirring between his legs, against the white fabric of his pants. It grew there between his legs, as he faced her without shame. The Sultana watched the inviting bulge appear and saw how his breathing grew more intense. She ran her fingers over the halo of nipple that showed through her gown and then reached out her hand to touch his throbbing cock gently with her fingertips.

At this gesture, Slavo shuddered and came with a deep cry as he stood there in front of her, the hot liquid from his loins wetting the cloth that stretched tight against his cock, but not for a moment allowing his eyes to look away from hers. Nirtasia´s green eyes looked back into his for one moment longer, before she turned away and headed back to her chambers deep in the palace.

That night her usual peaceful slumber completely escaped her. She had a restless night full of dreams: wild horses galloping along the coast, rivers overflowing onto sleepy villages, butterflies filling the room with color and movement. There were countless images that came, all due to her encounter with Slavo. And when the first rays of sun sneaked in through the drapes of her window, she was already awake, thinking of him.

She lay on her pale blue sheets, imagining his sweaty body in the sunshine, her breath getting quicker once again at the thought of his cock as it tugged against the cloth that imprisoned it. She imagined him slowly uncovering it to reveal its pulsating desire, the first drops appearing at its tip, as he pulled her by her golden belt and pushed her down until she was kneeling before him. He then forced this thick cock into her mouth and began to move it gently in and out, until his rhythm got faster and faster, the head going deep into her throat and out again to her moist lips, she unable to move, unable to breath from excitement....as she dreamt of his cock filling her mouth, her hands had already moved to her breast, pulled at her nipples, which now stood erect in the sun filtering into the room, her other hand rubbing at her clit already soaked from her open pussy...as she imagined him pumping into her mouth harder and faster, she jammed a leather cock she had at her bedside into her pussy and began to fuck herself, imagining that her pussy was her mouth as it sucked his throbbing cock...at last, she came with a scream at the image of Slavo exploding on her face, pure white liquid that poured again and again on her lips, her cheeks, his guttural moan, his head thrown back, as she knelt at his feet, licking his come with her tongue...she opened her eyes to find herself alone in her room, the leather cock still jammed inside her, yearning, yearning for reality.

Nirtasia tried to go on with her usual activities that day. She wandered in the cherry orchards, visited the deer that had just given birth to a fawn, played checkers with the children. But her thoughts never truly wandered from Slavo and what she wanted him to do to her. Though the Sultan was far away, she still did not dare to break her promise that no one was ever to touch her without his consent. Besides the handmaidens, only the physician had been approved to touch the Sultana, when the case required it.

Nirtasia, however, had a creative mind, and a very aroused pussy. So she called the two freshest girls of the harem and had them follow her to the stables. There, Slavo was busy with his duties of caring for the horses. She instructed the girls as to what they were to do. Nirtasia first walked past the stables, so that Slavo noticed her. He himself had had a restless night at the thought of the contact with the Sultana the previous day. She looked at Slavo with her deep green eyes and said a million things with that single look. He almost stopped breathing when he saw her. She then walked behind the stable and seemingly disappeared.

Slavo attempted to continue his work, though completely aroused by her image as she walked away, but that is when the two girls appeared. They approached, took away the brush he was holding and led him into the stable. He was momentarily surprised, but then simply allowed his lust for the Sultana to take over. The one girl was very fair with light brown curls that fell on her shoulders; the other was darker with shiny black hair full of light. The two girls laid him back on a pile of hay and let the clothes slip away from their young perfect bodies.

The fairer of the two stepped carefully over his face and lowered her sweet smelling cunt onto his mouth. He started to eat it hungrily, sucking it, digging his lips and tongue into the pink opening. The other girl pulled away his pants to expose a throbbing cock, on which she lowered herself, her cunt clicking open to engulf him. All the while, the Sultana watched from above and she maneuvered her own pussy on the leather cock that had now been fastened on a special pillow, allowing her to fuck herself. She rubbed her clit, sucked on her fingers, played with her nipples as the two girls brought him to ecstasy.

The girl on his mouth began to run her cunt up and down his face until it was all soaked. She then moved down and put her face below his hanging balls and began to lick and suck them, as the other girl pumped harder on his cock. He moaned with pleasure, as the two girls worked on him. At this sight the Sultana let out a series of cries that echoed in the stable, convulsing as the orgasm took her. Slavo heard her, recognized that it was she and allowed himself the pleasure of spilling his burning fluid upward into the pumping girl's cunt, while the other girl's mouth sucked in his balls. He let out his own cry, again, again, as he split up his lust for Nirtasia.

For the month that the Sultan was gone, Nirtasia made sure that Slavo´s passion for her grew stronger. One day she had him change the water in the pool, while she sat nearby, her robe slightly open to remind him of the naked pleasure hidden beneath. On another day, she had him ride beside her to the river, she on the new white mare, he on the grey Arabian stallion, the erotic rhythm of the ride keeping Slavo in a constant state of arousal. On another she had him set up a table of lava stones so that she could receive a massage from the ladies, while he waited nearby. But each day she took some time away from her daily activities to sit near the stables and recite the most vivid and sensual poems she had ever written. Here is one of the poems of Sultana Nirtasia:

Summer Peaches

Summer has spilt its sleeping dust on nature. The heat has bewitched the world to silence. Only the cicadas dare to break it with their rhythmic song. Peaches are ripe for the plucking and your lips are starving for the sticky juice. Let me feed you this peach so you may lick my fingers. The quiet yearns to be broken by a sound, the pleasure of my fruit in your mouth.

Slavo was completely in love with her by now and desired her so much that he stopped making love to any other woman. All his lust and passion was to be for her alone. And so, every night he spilled his burning come onto the painted image of her that he had found and quietly taken from inside the palace. He poured his liquid love onto her face and body, aching for her, longing to be able to touch her with his bare hands. In this way, or similarly, the month of the Sultan's absence went by.

On the afternoon of the Sultan's return, Nirtasia was relaxing at the indoor pond made of Lapis Lazuli that he had once created for her as a birthday gift. She had just finished bathing and was gingerly walking around the internal courtyard, admiring the mosaics of precious stones that decorated the floor and walls. The month spent in the presence of Slavo had awakened her every hidden desire and brought them to the surface. In a way, her whole being was shimmering with expectation and delight at the prospect of even once feeling him inside her. And this is how Brano found her, dreamily walking barefoot, wearing a white gown, her hair smelling of licorice and her skin, of cinnamon.

He walked briskly into the courtyard and startled her as he led her by the hand and pushed her roughly against the wall made of pillows that he had designed for their pleasure. Brano held Nirtasia by the head and kissed her with all the lust and desire for her that the 30 days had built up inside him. During his absence, he had repeatedly fucked a grateful slave girl that he had freed from an unjust master, but as he moved over the girl's body, he had dreamt of the only woman who would possess his soul.

And now he had her again in his arms. He licked her lips, thrust his tongue into her voluptuous mouth and breathed in her fragrance. His actions were not gentle, but Nirtasia´s pleasure was already escalating as he tore down the gown to reveal her breast, nipples now erect. He moved his face into the firm smooth flesh and sucked hard at the nipples, almost hurting her, Nirtasia responding even more to his untamed desire. She wanted to be fucked; it had been weeks since she had felt a man's passion inside her and she allowed herself to be swept away by the Sultan. Though she looked at him, in her soul it was Slavo who was fucking her.

Brano tore away the gown completely, threw away his own clothing and revealed a burning cock that he thrust up and into her completely, without a warning. She moaned in ecstasy as he lifted her with his cock and pelvis onto a pedestal of cushions and kept pumping into her, his hands on her waist, his face and lips busy with her breast, thrusting like he wanted to split her in half, not caring about her pleasure, but only his own, almost lifting her up and down on his throbbing shaft, growing bigger and bigger inside the dripping pussy that enveloped it. And yet he lasted a long time, his cock getting its fill of her wetness.

Nirtasia allowed him his will and suckled the pleasure he gave her. She put her own fingers on her clit as he pump, and rubbed herself to one orgasm after another, almost screaming as finally Brano released his sperm upward and into the cunt of his lust.

That night by the candlelit fountain, after a meal of quail in chocolate sauce and candied figs, Nirtasia began another story to captivate her Sultan. It was the tale of a sensuous queen, who in the absence of her king, had grown to desire a seductive manservant in the palace. She described how their passion grew, without the two ever touching one another, how their lust filled them from the inside-out to the tips of their fingers, how they longed for one night together. She described the eros the two shared without ever coming into real contact, and Brano was enchanted and aroused by the story.

In fact, as she was telling it, he lay her down on the Persian rugs, parted her legs and again began to make love with her as she spoke, her words exciting him as much as her body. He moved over her slowly and gently now, as she recited the story of the lovers that could never be. Just as he was about to come inside her, just as she felt the throbbing increase in her pussy, she stopped speaking and said no more. The Sultan also stopped long enough to request that she continue, so that he could fill her again with this liquid lust, so that he could know what becomes of the rising passion of the lovers.

She stayed mute and simply closed her eyes, moved her one hand to caress her breasts and nipples, the other to her clit and came with a shudder as she laid there, the Sultan's cock inside her, but her mind on the one man that she now desired beyond any other. Then the Sultan, too, moved harshly over her and gave up his white juice into her with a moan, but remained unsatisfied in a way he had never felt before in the presence of his Sultana.

In the days that followed, the Sultan continued to make love regularly to Nirtasia, giving them both great pleasure. Every evening as he fucked her with all his lust, he would beg her to go on with the tale, so that his mind and body would reach climax at the same time. The Sultana, however, refused to finish her story, though at the same time hinting to him that she knew exactly what would happen next. Weeks passed and Nirtasia´s lack of action was having the desired effect. The Sultan's curiosity was growing beyond his own control.