Memoirs of a Lady Ch. 08

"Ismi Nijah Abdul-Muqaddim," he murmurred into my ear.

"Speak English! I don't understand anything you say. I don't even know what is going on! I'm on a camel for god's sake with, with, you! Going who knows where and I don't even have any of my clothes! And get your hand off my breast!" I blurted out.

Laughing, the man said calmly, "My name is Nijah Abdul-Muqaddim. You now belong to me. This is the finest of camels. You are going to my camp and you will not need many clothes. I will not get my hand off your breast. Does that answer your questions?" He felt my nipple and began to message through the silk of the abaayah making it hard, and then he pulled it gently.

I squirmed against him but my arms were trapped by the way I was sitting, and the way he was holding me. I couldn't do anything. "You can't do this! I'm a free woman and I will report this to the Consulate. I will!"

He didn't say anything. Stroking my breast, messaging it, feeling the underside of my breast causing the silk to rub sensually on my skin, I began to feel the stirrings of arousal. He continued stroking, petting arousing me until the camels finally stopped. By this time I was breathless and wet between the legs. Leaping off the camel, he pulled me down into his arms. The other men scattered and he took me into a large tent.

I finally got a look at him as he stripped off his thobe and gutra. Underneath he had on a short dress looking shirt. He took that off and was completely naked. Blushing, I looked at his muscular dark skinned body. His skin was smooth and the color of the desert at sunset. Maybe it was the heat, the excitement, the seduction of the desert, but I wanted him. I somehow knew he wouldn't hurt me although the element of fear was present and intoxicating. I felt my nipples grow hard and the heat between my legs become moist with my musk.

Naked, he came to me and brushed the hair from my face. Caressing my cheek, he spoke to me tenderly. I don't know what he said, but the tone was sensual, sweet. He pulled off my abaaya and laid it on the thick carpets inside the tent. Pulling me with him, I laid down on the abaaya, the soft silk sliding on my skin. "I don't know¡K"

He held a finger to my lips then leaned over to kiss me. Taking my face in his hands he kissed my forehead, my cheeks, and then my lips. His kiss was warm and dry, sexy. Opening my lips to him, I felt his tongue take possession of my mouth. I moaned and he kissed me harder, urgently. His hands grabbed my arms and held me down as his teeth raked my neck down to my breasts. I arched my back pressing against him as he suckled first one nipple then the other. Back and forth until my body was drenched with sweat and desire. He growled deep in his throat when he felt my response to him.

Licking down my salty belly, he teased my hairless slit with his tongue. I opened my legs to him, his tongue flicking my clit into a frenzy while I moaned and writhed. His strong hands gripped my hips and he pulled me to him, sucking, licking me until I was screaming out. My hands clenched the silk under me, squeezing hard as my body wracked helplessly in a long shuddering orgasm. His tongue continued to lash my clit until I was spent and struggling to get away.

"Say my name. Nijah. Say it!" He said urgently.

I felt his thick organ slide up my leg as he licked up my body again. Pausing at a nipple he grasped it between his teeth and bit gently, sending sparks through my nerves.

"Say my name."

I felt his hard member slip between my swollen lips, wet from his saliva and my juices. The head rubbed up and down, sliding over my tender clit. I felt another orgasm coming and arched up, wanting him inside me.

"Say my name!" He cried urgently, once more. He poised his cock at the entrance to my molten insides, waiting.

Frantic, on the brink of an orgasm, I cried out, "Yes, Nijah, yes please take me!"

Grunting, Nijah speared me with his cock, thrusting in all the way in one great lurch.

The intensity was electric and immediate. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him into me, feeling his cock deep inside as he pumped. Each time he entered me fully, he would grind into me causing my clit to ignite. "Oh yes, Nijah, yes!"

He thrust hard, deep and kissed me, his tongue claiming my cries as I climaxed. Quivering in his arms, I trembled as he pulled out of me. My ears ringing, I closed my eyes. He pulled me to him, stroking my back like he was soothing a horse. Murmuring to me, soothing me until I fell asleep.

#

Waking up the next morning, I was surprised to see the sun bright outside the tent. Nijah was no where to be seen. I looked around the tent. It was as luxurious in its own way as the Sultan's house had been. The tent was lined with expensive, beautiful carpets. There were antiques and paintings scattered around. Stretching, I felt something on my ankle and looked down. A beautiful ankle bracelet had been placed there! As I moved the bells jingled and I wiggled my foot. It was very pretty. Looking at it more closely, I realized that it was locked on. I tried to tug it off but it would not budge. Incensed, I stood up angrily looking for something to wear. Finding nothing, I put on the abaayah I had worn yesterday, dirty though it was.

Walking to the flap of the tent, I pulled it aside. I looked around and saw several men by a fire. Walking up to them I began to ask them where Nijah was but they all swiftly turned away from me. Suddenly I felt strong arms pick me up, it was Nijah.

"What are you doing, and what is this thing locked on my ankle?" I asked.

Calmly, but firmly, Nijah carried me inside the tent. "Do you NOT understand the rules of this land? You must never walk about without a veil. For you to be so immodest is cause for death here! Those men did you a favor by turning away from you."

"I didn't come here on my own, and this is not my country! Why is there this thing locked on my leg?" I didn't back down.

"You don't like it? It is not pretty? The bells do not jingle fairly?" He coaxed. "Come now, behave for me. Do you not have this magnificent tent? The beautiful desert?" He approached me and pulled me to him.

I remembered his hard, fit body loving me last night. The taste of his kisses, the heat and hardness of his manhood. "But I don't really belong here, Nijah." I said.

He kissed me then, and made love to me again and again. Each time I screamed out his ownership of me as he played my body. I couldn't get enough of his taste, his scent. He smelled of leather and campfires. I wanted to breathe him in. His cock pleasured me, teasing one moment and ruthless the next. His mouth licking, biting, and sucking at me until I was dizzy with need. My breasts were swollen and aching, my mouth raw and puffy, my pussy wet and numb when he finally stopped. I held onto him, his naked sweaty body salty to my lips where I licked him.

I spent 4 months with Nijah. I came to love him and the bells although I never felt that it would be permanent. I'm not sure that I even wanted it to be. But while I was with him, the lovemaking, the tent, the seductive dry heat of the desert lulled me. I was content. I had wanted an adventure, and I got one.

#

One day, we awoke early and Nijah made love to me. He was so tender. His kisses were more gently than usual. Afterwards, he held me for a long time before we got up and dressed. He dressed me once more in my first golden abaayah, with a matching veil that I had grown accustom too. I had my own theory about veils. I think it is worn so the women can hide their embarrassment of the way the squeal in the arms of their men. We went outside and got into an older tan colored car. The air conditioning was blasting and felt wonderful.

"Where are we going, Nijah?" I asked. Over the months, we had visited nearby towns for shopping and sight-seeing.

Nijah stroked my face through the veil. "Azeeza, it is time to return you to your world."

I looked at him perplexed. Azeeza was his pet name for me, he told me it meant cherished, precious, beloved. "Returned? I don't understand Nijah."

Sighing, Nijah pulled me to him and explained. "When I first talked to the Sultan about obtaining a foreign woman to become my wife. I thought this would help in the business. It would look good to others, those outside Al Arabiyah as Suudiyah. You would become one of my wives, maybe a second or third. You could never be a first wife because you are not Muslim. And my first wife must be Muslim." He continued sadly, "Azeeza, I love you too much to do that to you. You would not be happy. This is my decision and it will be." Taking something out of his pocket, he put a fine silver necklace around me neck. On it was the tiny key to the lock of my ankle bracelet.

I tried to grasp what was happening. On one hand, I was exhilarated to be free, on another I was sad to be leaving Nijah. I cared for him even loved him in a way. The drive to the airport was long and silent.

I learned to cherish the freedoms I have as a woman outside that country. The laws are strict with women in the Middle Eastern countries, and they are very religious. As a matter of fact, religion rules the country. As a woman there, I was not allowed to go outside without a veil or abaayah. I couldn't drive a car. I seldom went anywhere without Nijah or one of his men present. But I did meet strong women. They are just strong in their own way. They have a lot of influence in their homes. I have a lot of respect for the women I met and became friends with there.

I wore my bells, abaayah and veil on the plane and all the way home. I noticed the looks of curiosity from men and women as I walked through the airport. I answered the Arab taxicab driver in his own language when he asked me why I was out without a man to protect me. Amazingly, I discovered that all my bills had been paid while I was gone and my plants cared for, it was like I had never left.

After being home and readjusting to my new, air-conditioned life of freedom, a package arrived at the door. The UPS man knocked loud enough to wake the dead and was gone before I could get to the door open. At my feet were two boxes. One square about the size of hatbox, the other large and rectangular.

Opening them, I cried as I took out the blue vase the women had used to pour the spicy musk oil on me that first day in Saudi. I brought it to my nose and inhaled. A hint of the oil was still present and I shivered. When I opened the other box, it was a magnificent painting, an exact replica of the golden abaayah, blue jar and my precious ankle bracelet. A note slipped out of the box.

"My dearest Azeeza,

I have been told that you have settled into your old, new life. I hope the time we shared will be remembered fondly and not with regret. My body still yearns for you and it will be a long time before I can love another. The Sultan has picked out a wife for me. She is a proper Muslim girl but will never replace you in my heart.

Usajnah asked me to send you the blue jar in memory of her. She said you showed respect to her and that counts for a lot in our world. I had the painting commissioned for you. I hope you like it and will remember the golden, desert times we had.

Salam Alaykim,

Nijah Abdul-Muqaddim"

#

Stirring from my rattan chair, I straightened my clothing. The orgasms I had while remembering my Saudi Arabian adventure were nothing compared to the real thing with Nijah, but that was all in the distant past. He had written me over the years, telling me of inconsequential things. I had never written him. What was there to say? My life went on.

Smiling softly to myself, I bent over and took off the belled ankle bracelet. Walking back to the hallway, I placed it back inside the drawer with the golden abaayah. Looking at the painting, I reached out and touched it. Imagining the heat of the desert, the heat of my lover's skin. I was content. I had wanted an adventure, and I had gotten one.

I wondered where my thoughts would take me next when I continued my memoirs.