Reunion of the St. Valentines Harem

Stacey rocked back and forth on her haunches as I pushed in and out. Her pussy was taking me in, enjoying each repeated sensation of being filled, empty and filled full again. Her sounds were whimpers with every filling punch of my cock as my balls beat against her dripping void. Stacey was not sounding like she was building to an earth shattering orgasm; but it was the sound of a sexually pleased woman with no words, only primal sounds.

I reached over her shoulder, grabbed a fistful of her hair, holding the strands like the reins of a mare. I pulled back on the reins, bringing her head up so I could watch her titties swing in the mirror. It was an erotic sight to see Stacey's overstuffed garbanzo bags gallop as I spurred her with my prod. I pounded her pussy with a heated ferocity that was pressurizing my pipes to the bursting point. I gave her one, last, hard plunge before I pulled out and detonated my package. With a satisfied grunt, I grabbed my shaft, stroking the wahooey out of my smoking pipe, spewing all that was coiled tight within my balls across her ass, shoulders and into her hair.

"What a ride!" I yelled and saluted her flanks with a crescendo of a spank.

Stacey collapsed face down. I found a t-shirt and cleaned up my mess before kissing her from her calves, to her upper legs, butt, shoulders and a final peck on the cheek. I dressed and left the room to find Lauren waiting for me. She had a cup of tea ready for me. I carried it to the kitchen and sat with Lauren in her green satin harem girl outfit; CiCi and Marti in their bath robes. We talked only a little. We talked of professors and pending assignments.

The subject of final exams leading to summer break was on everybody's mind. Nobody mentioned another Arabian Night in mid-May. We didn't have to speak of what we all knew and felt; The St. Valentine's Harem had been a playful, exciting sexual fling while it lasted. But there would be no more harem nights. It had run its course and would be left to fade into our memories, not out anyone's fault. But fade it would, out of loss of interest to carry the costume-play fantasy adventure any further. Lauren walked me to the door, put her hand on my shoulder and looked like maybe she wanted to say something, but didn't.

Separately we each prepared for finals and then for summer. Marti got an internship out of state, Stacey moved in with her new boyfriend and I would see CiCi around, but we did not remain close.

I kept my three pairs of souvenir panties, using them to stoke the fond memories of my St. Valentine's Harem sometimes when I masturbated after a day when I was feeling particularly lonely. The use of my harem girl's panties along with their memory faded over time, crowded out by the passage of time and the intrusion of other demands. None of those demands came from the female sex, as it seemed difficult to find a girl that shared my interests these days. Friendship with girls seemed easy back in my college days. Those chances of female companionship also faded with the passage of time, leaving me with memories and three pairs of panties to remind me that once, once I was a Sultan who took his pleasure.

+++

Those faded memories of my former glory and my former kingdom came back to life with the unexpected arrival in the mail of a lovely, handcrafted Valentine's card.

Lauren had vanished off my radar the evening I left CiCi's house. Yet, after years of not thinking of her, I got a card from her asking, 'Will You Be My Valentine?' I was surprised to say the least.

I wasn't desperate, but I was not willing to let a surprise opportunity pass me by while I spent another isolated February 14th watching hockey on TV. I followed the instructions on the back of Lauren's Valentine; removing the tiny lacy cloth covering the belly dancer's tits, exposing her construction paper breasts. By sending this item back through the mail was as provocative a way to send an RSVP as I'd ever heard. It was how Lauren wanted it. My answer was 'yes', I would be Lauren's Valentine for date night and a reunion of the St. Valentine's Harem. I was intrigued. I wanted to believe that the magic of three (if not a thousand-and-one) Arabian Nights might still be mine. Once I mailed back the removed titty veil and sent it to Lauren, I was to wait for her to contact me with details.

Three days after mailing my funny form of an RSVP, I got a text; Randall, call me any day after 6 PM. I am so excited that you said 'yes' to a Valentine's dinner with me. Call me any time after 6. I give you the details, don't worry - there isn't much at all involved for you. Maybe we can catch up a little before we meet. I know this is probably a huge shock, but I'm so glad to hear from you. Talk to you soon.

I called Lauren at 6:05 that night. She was offering to make dinner for two at her place, I should bring a bottle of wine. Dress nice, but nothing that would make me feel uncomfortable. I had to ask, "What about the reunion of the St. Valentine's Harem?"

"Oh, I'm not so sure exactly how that is going to work out," Lauren confessed. "I hoped it might influence you to respond favorably to my request, I took a big chance with that move, you know Randall."

I laughed, "I imagine you did. It worked well in your favor. I was immediately taken back to some wild days and wild nights. And I was of course very interested in what exactly a reunion of the St. Valentine's Harem entailed."

"Like I said, the details are yet to be fully worked out on this reunion. It all depends on how things unfold. Sorry I can't say more, but I think you are going to have to live with a little mystery until the fourteenth."

I laughed again. "Lauren, you are so mysterious, coming out of the blue with this card and your coy responses to my questions. You said, 'dinner for two', so how can this be a reunion?"

Lauren was sounding like she was enjoying toying with my mind, "Yes. A Valentine dinner for two. I will be there physically, and we can reunite with CiCi, Marti and Stacey in our memories of those days. After all, it's been seven years, I think we can start small and see where it goes from there? You're still coming right?"

"Of course," I protested. "I owe it to you if for nothing else than your clever and erotic card. Besides, I've totally enjoyed this conversation and I'd love to share old memories over a bottle of wine, or two."

Lauren breathed an audible sigh of relief, "Oh good. I was afraid I scared you off by being less than literal in my invitation. I didn't scare you too much with this surprise sexy invitation, did I Randall? I would never have dreamed of doing something like this with a guy seven years ago."

I laughed to reassure her shaking confidence, "No. Surprised? Yes. But scared? No. I'm looking forward to seeing you after all of these years. Thanks for thinking of me."

We talked for over an hour. I was giddy with finding a girl interested in me. I called Lauren at 6:02 the next night with some stupid, made-up questions just to hear her voice. It wasn't the last call that I made to her before we met at her place for dinner on Valentines.

I wanted to impress the lady, so I dressed in slacks, a pressed shirt under a sports jacket. I had purchased a German Riesling and an Italian red. I knocked on the door of Apartment 214 and waited for an answer. By virtue of our several conversations, I felt comfortable with Lauren, but there were butterflies in my stomach as I was about to come face to face with her. Lauren answered my knock in an oriental styled, brocade gown, wearing a pair of curled-toe, green Persian slippers. Once I noticed her feet, I laughed out loud, "Wow! Your toes look very cute tonight."

No longer the retiring and dutiful shy one, Lauren raised an eyebrow, "Randall, you are starting rather low tonight -- my toes? A lady expects compliments for attributes higher than her toes."

"Ah, please forgive me. I've been out of practice with refined and interesting ladies for many years. Alas, the night is young, with a little grace, I hope that I may recover from my low marks."

Lauren held the door, "Looks like it's starting to snow, they say more to come tonight. Randall, please come in. I have full faith in your ability to recover and charm me tonight." I followed her in, opening the bottle of Riesling.

"I smell something wonderful, should I hazard a guess, or would you like to surprise me, seeing how you are full of surprises lately?" I asked as I handed her her glass.

Lauren gave me a sly slant of her eye, "Randall, I'd like you come and stir my sauce," she said in a sultry voice as she gave a subtle grind with her hips, "and then I think you might just guess my surprise menu item. Lauren threw her head toward the kitchen inviting me further into her apartment.

I found her sauce simmering. Using a wooden spoon, I stirred and tasted it and said, "Umm, that is some great vodka sauce," I spoke my honest opinion. "From what province in Italy does the Robbins family come?"

Lauren smiled at my round about compliment of her cooking, "I once happened to have a good-looking single guy happen by my place on Valentine's day and show me the secrets to a great vodka sauce."

I toasted Miss Robbins, "Here is to a wise and endearing young lady. My compliments to the chef for her mastery of the sauce." She curtseyed in acknowledgement.

"This is yet another surprise in a growing list of surprises this evening," I suggested in admiration of the careful touches Lauren had put in place.

"Someone once said, 'The night is young.'" Lauren then teased me, "With a little grace, I hope to please my visiting sultan with a few more surprises."

I was not totally surprised when I discovered that Lauren had made fresh pasta to enfold into a delicious meal of lobster ravioli. I was thoroughly charmed by her attention to detail in setting a beautiful table, her culinary skills and I was swept away by her lively eyes and the ease of pleasant conversation with her. I was asking myself all through our meal, how did I miss these qualities back in my younger days?

We had polished off the bottle of red when Lauren served a special Valentine chocolate fudge concoction decorated with red hearts. With the robust wine coursing in our blood, we carried on our conversation and shared our thoughts about the value of Valentine's Day as a high stakes celebration loaded with great expectations and inevitable disappointments. We shared our mutual disappointments and frustration with the inability to meet people of shared interests and compatible with a shared love of mutual pleasures.

Lauren mused on how she could find it depressing to be out of college and the social mix of that environment, only to be inundated by life and not having found anyone to share it with. She asked, "So Randall, so what are guys looking for? I mean, why do I seem to be ignored by men?" As she was sharing her bewilderment, Lauren raised her hand to the top of her gown, undoing the frogs fastening her brocade gown, parting the fabric below her neckline. "I mean, what's it take for a girl to get a little attention? Do I need to flaunt my boobs to the world?" Lauren had exposed a familiar green, tailored covering with arabesque bobbles sewn to the bodice. Lauren narrowed her shoulders, enhancing her cleavage and gave her bobbles a shake, making the distinctive, clinking chime of a dancing harem girl. Her enticing display was candy to the eye and music to the ear.

I leaned in for a closer look, "Well, I cannot speak for all of mankind, but this lovely display certainly has drawn my attention. Am I'm getting a feeling of deja vu?"

"If you like that feeling of deja vu, I can continue and maybe bring back that feeling that you've seen this before. Only this time, the Sultan may find treasures in his harem that were not previously unveiled. Randall, would you be open for a limited reunion of the St. Valentine's Harem?"

"A 'limited reunion?'" I repeated her question with a tone of rising interest. "What are the limitations at this reunion?"

"Only that the Sultan's St. Valentine's Harem consists of a single harem girl, not four as in days of yore."

"Was there ever four in the St. Valentine's Harem? I recall that it was three."

Laruen drew me into the seductive idea of a reunion as she answered, "Oh no, there were always four in the Sultan's harem, but three of the jewels were easy to see and easy to be had. I shall not say that they were common or crude treasures - they were not. But I think they were of only semi-precious value, owing to their ready availability. There remained yet a fourth jewel in that St. Valentine's Harem, one that I think could be valued above the rest, but it has long been held in secret, as things of value often are. It was hidden in reserve until the proper time when the unveiling of its true worth could be appreciated by a more experienced and wiser Sultan of my acquaintance."

I folded my palms together and held them to my lips. A warm, inner peace welled up inside of me out of unknown depths. I stared across the table in silence, my eyes shining and burning small holes in Lauren's visage until she could not endure my stare any longer. "Randall, what do you see?"

It took me several more moments before I answered. "I see a treasure. I now see a precious jewel, one that was hidden from less experienced, younger eyes, that had yet to mature into richer wisdom. I see wit, talent and exquisite attention to detail. A marvelous cook and an artist who has fashioned the most alluring Valentine's card a man could ever receive."

Lauren blushed a deep shade across her cheeks and throat. Her blush swept another feeling of deja vu over me.

"Would you be open to being cast in the role of Sultan again, after all this time and your different life now?"

"Perhaps I can be persuaded to reassume the role of Sultan for this reunion. Any ideas?"

Lauren closed her eyes in a slow blink, pushed her chair back and rose from her seat. She stood across the table of dirty dishes and empty wine bottles, pushed her dress gown off her shoulders, shifting her hips to let it fall to her ankles, revealing yet another planned surprise in my evening. My hostess was wearing the same harem girl costume she had worn in the brief days at my house of concubines. I clapped my hands together in delight, "Splendid! The Sultan is well pleased," I said as I struggled to maintain my balance in my chair.

Lauren locked into my eyes with hers, brought her arms above her head with her palms together as she initiated her seductive dance with a jutting motion of her head as she held her shoulders still. This accentuated her breasts. Right there she already had me. Lauren began to swing her hips as her arms performed graceful arcs across her sexy body. She had me riveted by the undulations of her pelvic area, only to draw my attention to her well rounded, partially exposed breasts by the jangling of the metal beads and disks sewn to the fabric tightly embracing her bosom. My pleasure bone had been piqued, as promised in her Valentine card.

Lauren twirled, gyrated and danced her way around the table to my side with slow, seductive steps. I found it difficult to wait for her arrival, but I understood it would be unseemly for a sultan to leap to his feet and capture the girl too soon. So I waited. My mind was racing, but my cock was ahead of my mind, anticipating the precious emerald jewel that was about to fall into my clutches.

Lauren, my heretofore never unveiled harem girl, had danced her way out of my faded memory and straight into my very real flesh and blood desires. Lauren had ripened into a very attractive woman and had learned some charming feminine wiles somewhere along the way. I was mesmerized as she jiggled her tits and ground her hips as she approached, coming near to remove my sport jacket, hanging it on the back of my chair as she began to unbutton the upper buttons of my shirt.

A sultan has to do what a sultan has to do. Any guesswork in the earlier invitation to 'Be My Valentine' was long gone. I knew what I wanted and I knew what she wanted. I sprung from my throne, taking Lauren in my arms. I bent to her ear and whispered, "The Sultan will take you and have you for his pleasure now."

Lauren gladly melted in my arms. I scooped her up and carried her down the hall to her boudoir. We fell onto the bed, entangled in a warm knot of roaming hands, fingers, tongues, arms and legs of two formerly lonely acquaintances turned lovers. Whether by hook or by crook of my own steam-heated desires or by the willful help of my former Sultan's assistant, I realized that the lady's top had been ripped away. My inflamed lips found a pair of tasty, candied morsels below the satin bra. I was engulfed in a hungry swarm of passionate kisses, returning each and every one of them with equal zeal as we tumbled, locked together physically and locked together in a consuming emotion that was bigger than the two of us.

I cupped and caressed Lauren's perfect breasts, smooching my way around her body while she maneuvered around and under my arms to finish undressing me. I flew through the wadded sheets, my intention was to ravage my harem girl. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close to her breast, making sure I had no escape from her desire to be ravaged.

Our tongues, lips and fingers were galloping across the fleshscape, exploring every curve, texture and freckle there was to find. Without any forethought, my keenly aroused pleasure bone slipped between Lauren's legs, she spread herself in a welcoming manner, more out of instinctual reflex, than out of a consciously planned mating of man and woman. There was no ritual of pursuit and positioning in our union. Becoming one flesh happened as our thoughts, desires, bodies and spirits flowed together outside of our conscious will. We found ourselves in a beautiful state of being consumed one by the other; all of me was wholly enveloped by her and she was fully penetrated, body, mind and spirit by me.

Lauren arched her back, heaving her breasts heavenward as her loins rose to meet my consuming thrusts. She cried out in a deep, other-dimensional moan. I wanted her, I had no thought of separating from her as I countered her moan with one of my own as she drew out my seed to bathe her love tunnel in my liquid love.

We stayed entangled late into the night, exchanging purrs and tiny kisses as we snuggled under the mess of sheets and blankets. Though I knew the answer, I asked, "Should I be going?"

Lauren nibbled at my ear, "No, it's snowing pretty hard out there right now. I think you should stay here tonight."

"Are you going to set me up with blankets and a pillow on your loveseat then?"

"No my Sultan. I made that mistake once a long time ago. I've changed. No, I'm not going to make that mistake again; you're staying right here. Let me know if my Master is ready to have me and take his pleasure. As always, I'll be more than happy to assist you."

Late in the morning, we showered; Lauren first, then me. When I came out, she had French toast and mimosas ready for me. I kissed her with a passionate kiss and raised my glass of Champagne and orange juice, "To faded memories coming back to life through a bold Valentine card arriving by mail. And to the discovery of a hidden and precious jewel, more precious than any found before. Here is to the reunion of the St. Valentine's Harem - it's perfect."

I had to leave, as life has a way of intruding upon dream worlds inhabited by sultan's and sexy harem girls. But I vowed to Lauren that next time it would be at the Sultan's Palace. I asked for a pair of Lauren's panties, explaining it was a traditional tribute paid to the Sultan after he has taken his pleasure.

Just as before, Lauren refused to surrender such a souvenir. "Sultan Randall, now you know where your fourth harem girl stores her tribute panties, I invite my Sultan to come and visit them anytime he wishes to take his pleasure."