Doing the Sheikh's Homework

"You mean he does that sort of stuff fairly often?" I was disgusted.

"Not all the time, but once in a while he gets angry at something and takes it out on Layla or me," she added, "and at such time he wants the staff to watch and understand. It makes him feel manly, reduces us to nothing and makes them feel like shit."

"Why do you put up with this?" I asked.

"Because as a Saudi wife, I am truly his possession, I have few rights of my own," she clarified, "I was a strong willed Jordanian girl when I met him, he has tried his best to break my spirit. Tell me did you get turned on when you saw me being screwed?"

"I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes upon, and I did not believe he was behaving so badly," I confessed.

Jameela began to sob and I caressed her closer. My cock was already strained to the extreme and she gladly opened her legs and allowed me inside of her. We lay together, enjoying the feeling of each others' body. I slowly established a rhythm with my thrusting and withdrawing and she responded with gusto. As I neared my climax, I realized I had no protection and tried to pull out. Instead she grabbed me harder and I emptied my load into her willing pussy.

"Jameela, that was not a good idea, what if you get pregnant?" I complained.

"I don't think I will, since I just finished my period, but even if I do, Hamed will be delighted he is a father, since I have yet to give him a child," Jameela put me at ease.

Disengaging herself, Jameela covered herself with the burqa. Giving me one last kiss and grabbing the bikini, so as to perhaps not leave any evidence of her visit to my residence, she exited to the pool and back to her wing in the main house. I was left with mixed feelings: elation at having made love to a virtual goddess, guilt at having fucked my friend's wife. I wondered if this would be the end of things and if would see her again. I had no clue as to the amount of homework I was going to be doing on the Sheikh's behalf from now on.

IX

The next few days in the office were tough; the nights alone at home were absolute misery. I had no word from Jameela and wondered if I had dreamed the entire episode up. Hamed had decided he was having a really good time and had extended his honeymoon by another month.

A servant from the main house arrived one evening and advised that I was needed to greet some guests that had arrived for Hamed. Since I was deputizing for him at the office this did not seem like an unreasonable request. I let the servant take me to the main reception room in the house. It was bigger than my whole residence and decorated garishly. The visitors were an American businessman from California and his two Saudi partners. The American had arrived in Riyadh based on an earlier appointment with Hamed and was not exactly pleased that his host had decided to stand him up. The Saudis, who were related to Hamed in some manner, however, tried their best to keep his anger contained.

I learned that Frank was planning to help Hamed put up a cosmetics and skincare factory in Saudi. Apparently the idea had come from Hamed's wife and he had warmed to it. I was pleasantly surprised when I heard a female's voice from behind a curtain on one of the doors.

"Welcome to Riyadh sir, I am sorry my husband is away at the moment, but I am certain I can talk on his behalf," she said. I had not heard the voice before.

"Mr. Sikander, we have not met before, I am the Sheikh's senior wife, may I take the liberty of also welcoming you to our country and home," she added.

"Madame, the pleasure is all mine," I replied, wondering where Jameela was.

For the best part of two hours, we discussed modalities of the proposed factory, without so much as a sight of our hostess. Frank was having a hard time concentrating, since he was being plied with bourbon at a fast clip.

The meeting ended at about 11 p.m. and we were ushered in to the dining lounge. This could have easily housed a small Airbus aircraft. The food was spectacular as expected. But what caught our eyes more were the partially dressed Filipino and Moroccan girls who served us. Frank was wondering if he could cop a feel, but I politely suggested that without the host's express permission he may be risking too much. I figured he would get back to the hotel and wank off, there being no other outlet for him to dip his wick into that night. Thankfully the meal concluded just after midnight and the visitors were sent on their way.

As I collected my things to get back to my residence, I heard the voice again, "thank you Mr. Sikander, my husband will be happy with the way you handled his esteemed guests."

Expressing my thanks, I headed back home, wondering what sort of woman the first wife was. She certainly sounded educated and confident. I figured she was the daughter of some senior Saudi diplomat or businessman. It would not be possible for a normal Saudi female to be so involved in complex business affairs.

X

Tired, but intrigued by my mysterious hostess, I entered my house. Jameela was standing there in a miniskirt and heels, looking tastier than anything I had ever had in my life.

"Hello there, did you miss me?" she teased.

"I had hoped to see you at dinner, but you were not there," I responded.

"You talked with Layla, did you find her exciting?" I sensed some hostility.

"I am not the sort of guy to get turned on by a voice," I lied.

"I was getting so jealous hearing you talk to her," she admitted.

"Why, it was a strictly hands off, segregated sort of environment," I protested, "and we talked business only."

Jameela pushed me on to a sofa and seated herself in my lap. Slowly she began gyrating on my cock. I was already erect at the sight of her and could not take the teasing too long.

I carried her over to the dining table, placed her hands on it, pulled her panties down and bent her over. Jameela squealed with delight as I lifted her dress and lined my dick with her pussy.

"Do you want to fuck me like Hamed did?" she taunted.

"Did you not find that humiliating?" I questioned.

"Actually, after a few episodes I got used to the treatment and did not mind that others were watching; so he treats me badly on occasion, but at least he is fucking me and not his new toy!" she spat.

I needed no further encouragement and ran into the cloakroom to get a bottle of cream. Jameela was still bent over the table waiting to be skewered when I returned. I rubbed the lubricant on my penis and her rectum. Tossing the cream aside, I plunged my dick into her backside. She choked back a scream, but tightened her cheeks around my pole. I brutally assaulted her back side and she took the worst I could dish out with pleasure. She implored me to hit her, but that was something I could not bring myself to do, given that she was such a perfect creature. I did not want the act to end, but friction trumped me and I flooded her backside with my juice. Jameela pushed my cock out, fixed her dress, gave me a quick peck on the mouth and ran out the door with a till we meet again look. I certainly could not wait to sample the goods again.

XI

I was relieved when Hamed finally got back. He had extended the leave once more and had been away for the best part of three months. Luckily there had been no major issues in his absence and I could proudly turn command back over to him. Hamed was delighted that things had been well in his absence and playfully suggested he was keen on a trip to Brazil in the near future. Ordinarily I would have protested. But with things going nicely with Jameela, who dropped in every few days to get serviced, and I liked the new arrangement just fine.

The new wife was given her own wing at the big house. I learned that she was also the daughter of one of his father's Saudi friends, thus explaining the exchange of females between the two families. Hamed obviously seemed taken by her and was frequently late to work or not in at all. I had not seen Jameela since he returned but was looking forward to her point of view on the new resident in the house.

I figured I would be less involved with running the show with the boss back. In fact, I was now spending much more time explaining things to Hamed and then handling issues as they came up. The guy was acting like a total puppy. I learnt that the reason for his great joy was that he was trying hard to get a son. Apparently he had a daughter with Layla and no kids with Jameela. So, in typical medieval fashion, a son from the new wife would elevate him within the clan. The good thing about this was that the big Sheikh had been impressed by the way I kept things running and had given me a hefty salary increase and bonus.

XII

I received a message on my cell phone indicating that I would be having a visitor that night. Jameela had been sending me these messages off and on. Then at times she would surprise me by just showing up unexpectedly, but welcome all the same. I made sure I had everything all tied down and, after a quick dinner at one of the fine restaurants in the city, made my way home. As per practice, I had given the driver and maid the day off and they had plans to visit some of their friends in the city.

The lights were already dimmed in the main lounge and dining area. I noted a trail of fashionable women's clothes on the ground leading to the bedroom. By habit, I removed most of my vestments and walked in to the chamber. Surprisingly, the room was pitch dark, though I could see a female form lying nude on the bed.

"Hi Jameela," I greeted her, "how come everything is so dark?"

She lifted a finger to her lips to indicate I should be silent and lay back with her legs open wide, expecting me to drive my point home. I needed no further invitation and was on and in her within a split second. She grabbed me with gusto and I pumped her with all my force. She bucked and yelped more than usual, but I figured she was enjoying the sex after nearly two weeks of abstinence. I released a torrent of sperm into her and relaxed.

"Thank you Sikander," a voice I had only heard once before said.

In a second, I was off her and had turned on the light. Lying next to me, with a huge smile on her face, was a very good looking woman in her late twenties or early thirties. As typical of most Arab females, she had long black tresses that came down to her waist and large eyes.

"Hi I am Layla," she introduced herself, "I am so happy to finally meet you in person."

"But Madame, what are you doing here? This is really not the right thing to do," I was lost for words.

"Its okay, I know you were expecting Jameela, you two have been enjoying yourselves for quite a while, haven't you?" she inquired.

"Yes I was and you seem to know we have been making love on occasion," I replied.

"Don't kid yourself, she is just fucking you, Jameela does not even make love to Hamed!" she laughed.

"She was planning to come to you, but for some reason Hamed decided he wanted to sleep with her tonight," she explained, "which meant that he would not visit me for at least another week because his younger wives would wear him out. I just figured I might as well find out for myself the reason for the joy in Jameela's life."

"But Madame, what are you going to do now?" I begged.

"I have no intention of telling my husband about you," she calmed me down, "as long as I can get some action once in a while. And please do not call me Madame, it makes me sound cheap, I do know what Madame means in some Western contexts. I would be very happy if you would call me by my name."

"But how did you know about Jameela and me, and why would you be here instead of turning us in?" I was puzzled.

"I sensed Jameela was very tense the night you came to the house to meet the American. I watched for her and saw that she came to you that night," Layla explained, "the reason I have no cause to tell my husband is simple; he just uses Jameela and me as receptacles for his semen and very rarely, meanwhile he runs around everywhere having a good time."

"But why me, surely there would be others around?" I inquired.

"I am not comfortable having sex with drivers and servants as so many of my friends do when their husbands are away," she said, "but a man who competently stands in for my husband at work is surely one that can do his work at home too!"

"I want you to help me gain position in the eyes of my family," she continued, "Hamed is unable to bear children of his own, and I need you to conceive a son for him."

"But Layla, you do have a daughter," I was in shock.

"Yes, I do, but the father is not Hamed, but an Iraqi youth I met in London before I was married and had a short affair with," she opened up, "since the child came about 7 months after I was married, Hamed was happy to be the father. You may not know I was educated in the UK while my father was in the Saudi embassy there"

"That explains a great deal, but what convinces you that I will be able to help and what will Jameela think of this arrangement," I probed.

"There is every chance that Jameela is also looking to get impregnated and why would you turn down two beautiful ladies in this sort of country?" she was convincing. I was not sure that Jameela would like the new arrangement or had her own axe to grind. Still to reject these ladies could mean leaving Saudi and entering job uncertainty.

Layla's hand was on my cock, slowly stimulating it. She did have very sizable breasts and a fuller figure than Jameela. Layla certainly was a beauty in her own right. The friction helped me regain my erection. Forcing me back on my back, she climbed on top and inserted my cock into herself. For someone married many years and with one child, she was pleasingly tight. She moved up and down my shaft, moaning constantly as she fucked me. I was in awe of her luscious breasts and propped myself up to suck on them. Layla now lay back and pulled me on top. I came mightily and she hung on tight till she felt every drop of my sperm enter her.

Just like Jameela, Layla also exited in the darkest hour to return to her wing in the house. I could not believe that I was now fucking two of Hamed's three wives. Talk of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. I was scared witless that things would end up the wrong way, yet I was not keen to be stuck without prospects elsewhere.

XIII

Jameela was not too happy about the new arrangement, but at the same time was unable to alter the new ground realities. On the other hand, she now had an ally in Layla, potentially against the third wife. The risk of screwing with any of his wives was bad enough with Hamed out of the country. With him around, this was further magnified.

Where things should have cooled down between the three of us, the fact that they were vying for my attention made both keener to share my bed. Thankfully they appeared to have come to some sort of understanding and during any given week I would get no more than a visit from either of them. Layla was open to confess they were also trying to get into Hamed's bed every so often, so that he could be convinced of his fatherhood should they have a child. Being the Saudi male that he was, the possibility of shooting blanks would never have occurred to him or any of his male family members.

With their undeclared competition on, I was the beneficiary of a fashion parade, the likes of which I had never seen before. Jameela dressed to show her long legs and slim body to great effect. Bikinis and miniskirts were the norm. Layla made sure her boobs and hair always looked inviting. Her preference was for western style ball gowns with plunging necklines. Layla was very single minded in getting pregnant and vaginal sex was the staple in our relationship. Jameela was much more open to other possibilities and I enjoyed the warmth of her mouth and the tightness of her rectum around my dick many times.

XIV

"Sikander we are going to San Francisco next week," Hamed announced, "do you have your US visa?" Following the meeting at the house with the American visitor, things had progressed with regards to the plan for the factory. Frank had invited Hamed to visit his HQ, and since summer had commenced, it was quite normal to take the family along. And California was always a favorite haunt for visiting rich Arabs.

Between the wives, the servants and ourselves, we had a traveling party of nearly 20 persons. The staff was seated in the first two rows of the economy section. The rest of us filled the left side of the First Class Section. The three wives showed up in burqas and I found it difficult figuring out who each person was. Hamed sat down in an aisle seat, with one wife next to the window. The other two wives sat right behind them. I was in the third row and did not have anyone taking the adjacent seat.

It would have been convenient to take the direct Saudia flight from Riyadh to New York. However, Hamed did not like the no-alcohol policy on that airline. Instead we were traveling in style on Lufthansa and would be connecting to San Francisco via Frankfurt.

For the best part of an hour I kept wondering about the seating order of the wives. As the snacks trolley came by, the three ladies headed off to the restrooms. I began to enjoy my meal and drinks. Hamed decided to come by and chat with me, rather than sitting alone. The fine cuisine, strong drink and rarefied cabin pressure got us finely soused.

"Sikander, it is good you have come along," Hamed said, "my first wife was quite impressed by the way you handled our American friend when he came over, and she suggested that since you do know Frank, you could help in the negotiations with him." That explained why I was along on this trip, rather than handling things in Riyadh while he was away.

"But Hamed, I do not have the details," I tried to weasel out.

"I figured that, so I have prepared a briefing folder that you can read," he replied, "also since the project was Layla's idea, she will be joining you for the meeting with Frank. It would be good if we got together before the meeting and ironed out our position."

About an hour and a half after the three ladies had vanished, they reappeared. Jameela was wearing a blue silk Chinese dress, with deep slits or either side displaying her legs magnificently. Layla was dressed in nice leather pants, with a cashmere sweater and scarf around her neck. The third lady decided to come in wearing designer jeans, a midriff baring T-shirt, fashionable heeled boots and a spectacular smile. The other male first class passengers all looked at them appreciatively; the female ones wondered which planet the beauties came from.

Noting they were back, Hamed introduced me, "Jameela you know Sikander from Texas, Sikander this is my first wife Layla, and with her is my new wife, Maya. Maya was perhaps the same age as Jameela, but had the smile of a model. Hamed could certainly pick them well. Of course, I greeted them all politely, not indicating at all that I knew Jameela and Layla pretty well indeed.

I prayed that none of them wanted or expected to be inducted into the Mile High Club. Thankfully Frankfurt arrived before any of them had that thought! Hamed handed me the promised folder as we waited in the First Class lounge, and studying the documents kept me occupied. The ladies were too tired on the next leg and we arrived at our destination without any undue demands on my person. Somehow they all managed to change into another stunning array of outfits before leaving the aircraft.

We checked into our all-suite hotel, where half a floor was dedicated to our group. All three of the wives had separate rooms and, for the night, Hamed joined Layla. The staff were divided into a further 5 suites and I had one that was opposite those of the three wives. After the long journey, it was heavenly to get to a nice bed.