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“Maybe because it was common knowledge that you were married to a Sheik and the way you dress does not lend itself to men looking at you twice.”

“Well, now I’m not married, but as for my dress. There is no way I could . . . how could they?”

I knew exactly who “they” were. The women, old, young, fat, skinny, who sunbathed topless or naked.

“Just as there are certain customs in your country, there are certain customs here. One of them . . .”

“To show everyone all of you, no. And even the men. How disgusting.”

I guess I’d failed to mention that. Some men, not a majority, sunbathed naked here. Walked the beach naked; sunbathed naked; went for a swim naked.

I know I looked twice or more than twice when I saw a woman sunbathing topless, but I had no idea if women checked out the naked male sunbathers. I didn’t check out those men; nor did I sunbathe naked.

“You’ve lived here how many years; haven’t you got used to it? Why do you stay?”

“At first, I stayed because my husband ordered me to. Now, I am comfortable here. The weather is mild even in the winter.”

“Not so comfortable that you would dress like the women here?”

“You mean undress,” for the first time I heard her laugh.

I insisted on walking her home. That was all. Agde was one of the safest places in the world for women, but even a forty-year-old woman like Rania couldn’t be too careful.

We walked along the beach; when we got to her home, she laughed again. “Now that I’m not a princess, even my bodyguards have left.”

She didn’t invite me in; I didn’t invite myself in, but “Monsieur Tremont, have you ever had food from my country?”

“No, but I’ve heard it’s very good.” I was still an American; there was nothing like a good steak and a glass of an excellent red wine.

“Then tomorrow, I will pick you up at your house at noon and take you to a wonderful restaurant for lunch. I have a car, and now I can drive myself.”

“Do you know how?”

I won’t bore you with the details of lunch, but the food was fabulous. Rania seemed much more relaxed, and the restaurant staff still treated her as if she was a princess. She was dressed as she always dressed, long skirt, arms and neck covered and her hijab.

I will tell you about after lunch. I suspect that will not bore you.

Instead of driving me home, Rania drove to her house and invited me in. “Marty, I can offer you tea or coffee.”

“Coffee would be nice, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all.”

After starting the coffee, Rania came back into the living room. “Marty, I’ve never done this before in front of a man other than my husband.’ She took off her hijab.

She shook her long black hair loose. I’m not sure why, but although her hijab did not cover her face, now that face seemed lovely; radiant even. “Rania, you’re a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you, Marty. Not since my wedding night, has a man called me beautiful. I hope I don’t seem too forward, but do you really want a cup of coffee?”

“Ummmm . . .”

“Marty, I am in desperate need of some love and affection. I’ve never. . . when I saw you the other night at the hotel, I was hoping you might be the one.”

“I-I-I . . .”

Rania took me by the hand. “Come with me.”

She led me to her bedroom, and I sat in a chair next to the bed. Rania stood in front of me. “This is something else I’ve never done. Please, bear with me and do not laugh, please Marty.”

Slowly, Rania bint Burhani undressed. It wasn’t sensuous. She just took her clothes off; I sat there mesmerized. She was beautiful. Sure, some teenagers, like Suzette, and twenty-somethings I’d bedded here were stunning, but there was something in the way Rania carried herself. Then slipped under the blankets; only her head visible.

“Marty,” I’ve never said this to a man before, “will you join me? Please.” She pulled the covers back a little as an invitation. A hint of her breasts exposed.

I didn’t say anything, but I was quickly down to my boxers. I wasn’t sure how far she wanted me to go, but I left them on when I joined her under the blankets.

By the same token, I didn’t know how far she wanted to go even though she was naked. I let her lead the way.

I didn’t have long to wait. “Marty, I’m a little nervous about all this. I want to but . . .”

“Rania, just do what you’re comfortable doing.”

“I told you the only thing I’ve done with a man, with my husband, except for my wedding night is . . .”

I told you, women just seemed to fall into my lap.

Rania and I did not get out of bed for almost two years. It’s not that we stayed in bed for a year, but my bed or her bed was where we spent hours and hours. Hours and hours of not sleeping.

That first night, after the most incredible blowjob you can imagine. “Marty, like I said my husband never got on top of me after our wedding night. When you are ready, please. I need you to get on top of me.”

It took me about an hour to recover from that blowjob.

I didn’t get on top of her.

I took her in my arms, kissed her, then kissed her with my tongue. It didn’t take long for her to join me. “Marty,” she mumbled, “make love to me.”

I did. Like a Frenchman. I was shocked, and you probably are to, that was a first for her. “Oh Marty, do you really want to? I’ve never. . . my husband never. . .”

“Rania, I’d love to.” It would be wrong to tell you that a razor had never been near her pussy, but a razor had never been near her pussy.

It was a wild, black jungle down there.

If you’ve read this far, and got to know me, you know that wasn’t a deterrent.

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I was still eating, licking, sucking, massaging with my tongue when the sun went down.

Remember, we started after lunch.

“Yes, Rania’s pussy was that good. Those were her first orgasms, and there were lots of them. “Marty, can you do my pussy like that one more time?”

You know, I did not have to be asked twice.

“OH MARTY, OH MARTY, OH THANK YOU, MARTY.”

I thought to myself, she should be thanking Mrs. Wilton.

We didn’t fuck until the next morning. Rania fucked like her pubic hair; wild. It was as if she hadn’t been fucked in over twenty years, which she hadn’t.

She couldn’t get enough of fucking. She couldn’t get enough of having her pussy eaten.

“Marty, do you think if I put your big cock in my mouth for a while, you might be persuaded to use your tongue?”

“I don’t know, Rania. Once you start . . .”

“I know, I just can’t stop, but Marty it’s your fault. My husband didn’t have as long or as fat a cock as you have. Once I start, I don’t want to take it out of my mouth until you give me a nice big, tasty reward. Will you give me a nice big reward this morning?” Rania giggled as she went down on me.

It was almost two years later, almost to the day when Rania told me she was leaving. “Marty, my husband wants me back. He said, he’s tired of his young wives. He needs a woman of my talents.” She blushed, even though I’d learned about her extraordinary talent. “I have to go, it’s required.”

Of course, I was disappointed. Rania was a great fuck; no one sucked like she did and although she never did get around to using a razor, I never got tired of rubbing my face in her wild bush.

TO BE CONTINUED

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