In Times of Trouble

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Beautiful American reporter tries to get out of trouble.
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"This is a very dangerous place, my dear. I suggest you consider my offer of assistance once more."

Amanda stared at the foreigner that she thought she knew so well. Their current conversation, however, showed a side of him she wasn't familiar with.

"Did you not have to pay a certain price to become a correspondent for your news organization?" the man continued. "Perhaps you used your exceptional beauty to help climb the ladder of success you Americans are so obsessed with. Your intelligence alone got you so far. Whether you realize it or not, your sensuality made the highest rungs easier to reach."

He paused. "Or did you use that sensuality knowingly?"

She flung her hand towards his face. He grabbed it and clung to her wrist.

"Let go of me, Kahil," Amanda shouted.

He pulled her closer to him, holding her arm high in the air. "Soon, no Westerners will escape prison in this country. You will be labeled a spy. You will be questioned; interrogated by the roughest of officers; or tortured, Amanda. They will do things to you that you can not now imagine."

Their faces were inches apart. Their bodies touched occasionally as Amanda struggled to get free.

"I'm here legally and I'll leave legally," she said with unsteady self-confidence.

"Amanda, you are so young and naïve," Kahil told her. "This is not New York, or Boston, or LA where you walk into an airport, check your bags, and step on a plane. If they want you held, they will hold you. As I told you before, I am your only security. With my assistance, you walk out with minimum interference. Without it..."

He shook his head gravely.

Kahil loosened his grip on her wrist and, finally, let her go. Amanda rubbed her arm and scowled at the forty year old man who had been her companion, interpreter, and best source while in the Middle East. They had never been sexual partners, but more time together may have taken them there. She trusted him, but that trust was being put to the test now.

The thirty year old reporter had at first refused his help, thinking she could exit the area before it got too bad. But, overnight it got too bad. Now she was fearful of her safe return to the States.

"Maybe I feel safer in the hands of their roughest officer," she said.

He laughed at her loudly. "Go ahead then," he said, waving at the nearby window overlooking the busy city street. "Walk away without me. Be sure to wear something cheap because I can't vouch for how long it will last on you. Don't scream too loud or they'll find a way to quiet you. I've seen it, Amanda. I've seen it all."

She stared at him with contempt. "You can't scare me, Kahil. They know better than to make a scene with an American female at a time when their place in the world community is at stake."

Kahil approached her again and leaned closer in a gesture of power. "By the time word of your disappearance gets out," he said softly, "you will be begging to die."

She found it hard to swallow. She swirled away from him, but he grabbed her arm and spun her back around to face him. "Listen to me! I am your only way out!" he snarled.

"How much do you want?" Amanda snapped back.

He laughed that deep, horrible laugh once more. "Not money, my dear. You have the only thing better than money. You have something only a beautiful young woman can offer, and it has no price. Give it to me and you will be a free woman again, Amanda."

"You're disgusting."

"And you're a typical American, blonde whore. I've seen you at work," Kahil said, violently shoving her backward and nearly making her tumble onto a couch. "Now take off your clothes before I rip them off."

Gunshots in the distance reminded Amanda of her situation. She caught her breath and stood as steadily as her frazzled nerves would allow. She brushed back her hair and stared at Kahil.

"Strip!"

She wore a lightweight blouse that buttoned down the front. In the struggle, one side had come out of her dress pants. Amanda pulled out the other side and reached for the top button. Kahil's dark eyes were locked on the spot, intently watching the woman's fingers manipulate the button.

For nearly three months he had worked with Amanda. His devotion to her grew over time, as did his desire. Many a night he lie in bed thinking of her—thinking of what she would look like naked. He would masturbate and cum in torrents at the image of her tanned body lying naked under him as he fucked her.

When Amanda undid the second button, her silky white bra came into view. By the time she opened the last button the bra and a good portion of her ample breasts were visible.

She let the shirt hang open, but when Kahil looked at her with his demanding eyes, she pulled it off and laid it aside. Her bra was simple and small. The thin material did little to hide her nipples or the bulk of her tits. Kahil had seen her in a bathing suit, and every time it aroused him. This was different. This time he would see her the way he dreamed of seeing her.

"Kahil, there's no need to...," Amanda said.

"But there is. There IS a need, unless you don't value your own life."

Amanda timidly opened the button on her pants and pulled down the zipper. Her panties only appeared when she had the zipper completely open and started to push the tight pants down her legs. Kahil felt his cock harden at the sight of her tiny underwear and long, firm legs.

She stood before him and, this time, did not initiate the next move. It could be painful, she thought to herself, but she wasn't going to simply give in. Somehow she knew, or hoped, her life wasn't in danger with Kahil.

"Everything!" he insisted.

"No," she said quietly but decisively.

"Amanda, don't make me give you a taste of what it could be like."

"Then stop playing this game with me," she said.

His look of incredulity scared her. His steady advance frightened her even more. She took a tiny step backward.

"Game?!"

His slap was lightning fast, easily beating the hand she put up to stop him. The pain lasted through his aggravated gripping of her bra straps and the violent tug down her arms. The clasp in the back held through his angry pull and the bra ended up around her abdomen, below her exposed breasts.

"Stop! Kahil, Stop!"

He let go of the bra, but did not back away from Amanda.

"I'll do it," she sobbed. "Just don't hurt me."

"Hurt you? I'm trying to keep you from getting killed, Amanda. Now get undressed!"

His logic seemed twisted to her, but she had no choice. She reached back and unhooked the bra, flinging it aside. There was no longer a need to hide the embarrassment of her near-nudity, but she couldn't look him in the eye.

Kahil stepped away from her, apparently to get a better view. Amanda could sense his stare up and down her entire body. Before he could speak again, she took hold of the top of her panties and pulled them off, feeling conquered and a little sore.

"Turn around," he ordered.

Amanda turned her back to him and awkwardly put her hands at her side, unsure what to do next.

"You are so beautiful," he said. "So young and beautiful."

She heard him stepping toward her. Her body tensed. Then she felt his fingertips on the back of her thighs, slowly rising to the bottom of her ass. His hands outlined the edge of her cheeks before coming to rest on them and taking a firm grip.

Amanda felt herself rising onto her toes under the influence of his hands and her own anxiety. She dropped back down only when he loosened his grip enough to rub her ass more gently.

"Yes. I'm afraid there are people in power who would not let you leave," Kahil said into Amanda's ear. "I will convince them otherwise."

He moved his hands around to her stomach and up to her tits.

"I will convince them not to destroy such a lovely young thing. You are to be admired, Amanda. Not abused."

His hands were exploring every inch of her full breasts, feeling the skin mold to his hands and the nipples harden against his palms. He leaned down and kissed her shoulders and her neck. He brushed her hair aside and licked her before kissing her again.

Amanda shuddered, slowly losing control of what her body was doing. His touches were erotic, but the circumstances were frightening. Nothing her body did would surprise her. However, she would fight any feeling of sexual arousal.

"Face me," he said.

Amanda turned and looked at him. He did not have a look of danger on his face. It was lust, combined with power and a little apprehension. Either he was unsure of what he was doing or nervous of the consequences. Nowhere did she see a sign that he wouldn't carry through with his original plan of helping her get out of the country.

"Take out my cock. See how hard you've made me, Amanda."

She looked down at his plain pants, already aware of a bulge even before her hand got to the zipper. She pulled it down while holding the waistband with her other hand. Amanda reached inside and fumbled for the opening to his shorts. She felt the undeniable erection under the material, eventually sliding her fingers inside and taking hold of the hard, warm shaft.

She pulled it out and let go, watching the thick head point at her menacingly.

"Get down," he said, pushing on Amanda's shoulders. "Let's see if you know how to use those precious lips of yours."

She almost protested one more time, but his slap had convinced her it was useless. Once she was comfortably on her knees, she forced herself to look at him. He was hard enough that the underside of his cock was visible. Veins bulged in parallel displays of stimulation. The head seemed disproportionate to the rest of the penis.

Kahil moved it so close that Amanda had to tilt her head before it hit her face.

"Take it, Amanda. Suck my cock like a whore."

That's exactly how she felt as the young woman took hold of the base. She felt it twitch at her touch. She inserted the tip between her lips, and then Kahil pushed forward, telling her to remove her hand. The entire length of the cock entered her mouth and struck the back of her throat.

She whimpered and tried to pull away. But Kahil held her by the back of the head and began a vigorous fucking of her mouth. Amanda steadied herself by widening her stance. His cock drove like a piston in and out of her mouth. She felt it scrape along her tongue and across her lips. It was warmer now, and harder.

"Ahhh, I knew it. You've done this many times before. Like a pro," Kahil panted.

All of it was untrue and Amanda felt like a machine, unable to do anything except take in the shaft and allow it to pull back out. If he came, she would not be the cause. But she fully expected him to cum.

Kahil reached down and put his palm on Amanda's tit, pulling on it and squeezing it roughly. His moans grew in volume and frequency. Amanda prepared for his orgasm.

And then he stepped back, his wet cock glistening in the light as it bobbed in front of her face.

"Get up!"

Amanda rose to her feet.

"Over here. To the couch."

Amanda's heart pounded at the thought of him fucking her. She wasn't ready—certainly not for his large cock. Would he be as rough as he had been up to that point? She assumed he would.

She walked to the couch and moved as if to lie on it.

"No! Here. At the end," he pointed.

She was uncertain at first what he wanted. But he quickly made it clear. When she reached the end of the couch, beside the large, rounded arm, he said, "Lean on it. Bend over."

"No, Kahil. Please! I can make you cum. Let me...," she begged.

"Bend over!"

Amanda felt the first tear run down her cheek as she put her hands on the arm of the couch. She felt awkward and exposed. She felt dirty.

Kahil put his hand on the middle of her back and pushed. Amanda fell forward with an 'oomph' and her feet nearly left the ground. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back a few inches.

"Spread your legs!"

Amanda's breasts were compressed against the rough material of the couch. She was able to lift herself just enough to ease the pain. Then she sensed him closing in on her ass.

"Kahil! Kahil! No!"

His rigid cock rested between the cheeks of her ass. She prayed he wasn't going there. The tears flowed more rapidly as he ran his fingers over her ass and up the crack. He allowed the cock to fall lower before pushing it forward and letting it slide across her pussy.

"Where do you want it, Amanda? Your ass or your pussy?"

Amanda sobbed, but did not answer. She wasn't sure he needed an answer.

"Tell me! Which is it?"

She could barely make the words come out. "My pussy."

"Louder!"

"My pussy," she said angrily.

He had the urge to make her beg. But another urge took over. Kahil put the tip of his cock between the pink folds of skin and held it there for a couple seconds, anticipating what he was about to do.

A sudden, brutal thrust put him inside her.

Amanda shrieked.

"That's it, Amanda. Cry out. You'll be crying for more before we're done."

He began to fuck her from behind. With his hands on her hips, he held her in place and rammed her tight pussy as hard and fast as he could. All the lust he felt for Amanda since first meeting her came out in the prolonged series of plunges his cock made into her cunt. He grunted louder, disregarding her moans and pleas to stop.

Their bodies crashed together with each thrust and the slapping echoed in the room. A far off gunshot now affected them very little. This act would have to be concluded before the real world emerged again.

Kahil was disappointed his orgasm built so quickly. She was an incredible fuck and he would likely only have one chance at this. Yet, the idea of cumming inside the lovely American had its own rewards. And the need was mounting fast.

He reached under her body and roughly fondled her tits. He tugged on the nipples and rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers. He felt the breasts bounce as he fucked her pussy in the final few seconds before he came.

Then he gripped the tits tightly, grunted at the top of his voice, and began to pour his cum inside her. Amanda felt his cock pulse as it erupted over and over again. The cum lubricated him and Kahil slammed into her harder and faster.

Despite his prediction, Amanda did not beg for more. She wanted his cock to stop filling her and stop pounding into her cunt. She wanted to leave...the room and the country.

When Kahil was finished, he pulled out his cock and let it rest on top of Amanda's ass. Cum leaked out into the crack, much to Kahil's satisfaction. The sex was better than even he had anticipated. He would be sorry to see her go.

"Good girl, Amanda. You would make any man happy. Now, as I promised, I will escort you out of this dreaded place. The price you have paid me guarantees your safe exit," Kahil said. "There may be questions at the airport, but allow me to do the talking and you will be free."

###

Amanda and Kahil each carried one of her bags through the doors of the airport terminal and toward the ticket counter. Heavily armed military guards stared openly at the lovely blonde in her tight pants and polo shirt, a laptop case slug over her shoulder. She walked without expression to the counter, avoiding all eye contact.

She placed the bags on the floor between herself and Kahil and laid a ticket to Rome and her passport on the counter. A middle-aged man gathered up the items and inspected them for several seconds.

Kahil spoke to him in their native tongue, only part of the conversation being within Amanda's limited understanding of the language. She recognized references to American reporter, the fact she was not returning, and Kahil's familiarity with the head of the local police.

The man behind the counter took the pieces of ID and stepped to a phone two counters away, out of Amanda's earshot.

"Everything will be OK. Do not worry," Kahil assured her, unsuccessfully.

Amanda looked sheepishly at the handful of other travelers in the area. Not one of them appeared to be an American. She envied their routine passage through the terminal.

A moment later, the man returned and said in accented English, "Come with me."

Those were not the words Amanda wanted to hear, and the direction he led them was not the way to the gates. Her pulse quickened as the threesome turned into a door the man held open for them. A narrow hallway took them to a row of offices. The ticket agent knocked on a closed door, listened for the voice inside, and swung the door open.

"Come in. Come in."

The booming voice seemed welcoming enough to Amanda as she and Kahil lugged the bags inside the large office. The man the voice belonged to sat behind a huge wooden desk. Amanda guessed his age to be about fifty. A bushy, black mustache nearly hid his mouth and a crooked nose dominated the middle of his face. His eyes were topped with shaggy eyebrows.

"Welcome, Kahil, my good friend," he said.

The men shook hands across the table.

"It's a pleasure, as always, Mr. Rasheed," Kahil said. "May I introduce Amanda. She wishes an uneventful trip to Rome after serving as a correspondent in our country."

A wave of Kahil's hand in Amanda's direction wasn't necessary. The man behind the desk was already carefully examining the young woman. He glanced down at her passport and flipped over a couple of pages.

"A correspondent. What kind of correspondent?" he asked.

"Financial news, Mr. Rasheed," Amanda said, hoping the use of his name was acceptable.

He let out one deep laugh. "Financial news. No doubt you were not here a long time. There is no financial news in this country."

"I believe you're making good progress," Amanda said.

Rasheed looked at her intently. "What do you know of our politics?"

"Virtually nothing."

He stared. "Never once in your stay here did you 'interview' anybody about our politics? Don't you think our economy and our politics are one and the same? Miss Amanda, do not take me for a fool. No American comes into this country for the sole purpose of reporting on our economy."

He paused for a moment and leaned back in his chair. "We have a place for foreigners who pretend to be reporting on our economy, all the while spying on us. In fact, there is a woman down there now. She is young, like you Miss Amanda. She said she was writing a story about the great progress being made. She was spying, of course, and we will keep her in our prison until she confesses."

Rasheed bent forward again and made solid eye contact with Amanda. "Confessions from young American women take a long time, Miss Amanda. We visit her often. I'm afraid she tires of our, intrusion, I think is the word. But if she would simply tell us the truth, we wouldn't have to punish her in that way."

Amanda's mental image of a scared woman lying on a metal bed in a dark, stone wall room wasn't that far from the truth. She had to trust Kahil; another scary thought.

"I would never spy on anyone, sir. I wouldn't know how to spy...," Amanda started to explain.

Rasheed rose from his chair and put his index finger to his mouth in the universal sign of silence.

"I heard that from her, too, Miss Amanda. It means nothing to me. You see, she had nobody to speak on her behalf to me. You have Kahil. I have faith in Kahil. He has been with you for a while now, has he not?"

Amanda nodded as Rasheed walked over to her.

"He says you have done us no harm. That alone may keep you out of my prison. But do you realize, young lady, how inconsequential women are in this country? Surely you have found out for yourself that their rights are limited. That men decide what they do in life and when they do it," Rasheed said, standing close enough to touch Amanda.

"I understand that," Amanda said.

"Good. There's something else you need to understand," Rasheed said, starting to circle around her. When he got behind her, he gestured for Kahil to take a seat in the chair along the wall by the door. "You need to understand I am now the man who will get you onto your plane."

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