The Eastern Beauty

[LordLuck]

For a long moment, Lorenzo could not really take the choice upon himself. He had started to consider if he should ask Sadaa where he should take her - how would she prefer it. He had her womanhood just half an hour earlier, and she had seemed to love it very much. They way she had controlled him then, telling him to send away the children and straddling him up to possess him as if she was solely and wholly controlling him made the man shiver. He heard her words and though if it was true. She had never been taken as a woman, only as a slave? She ought to have been captured young.

He could not know the marital rites of her own people, but back at Lombardy a man was expected to keep his wife pleased with running a household and earning coin to live up to any life expectations he might have sown upon her and her family. If he promised her wealth, he should bring her wealth. If he promised her children, he would have to do his part on it. If he promised her pleasure... well, he had to bring that up too. Some men could not promise it between his vows, or simply did not mentioned - which made him open to mockery and scorn of his peers. He was less a man if he did not please his woman.

The poor woman must have suffered much on the hands of her previous masters or those they had made her lay with. He could think of them already, using her as if she was actually a harlot, earning money for her trade. Some whores seemed to actually enjoy being treated by nothing else than a warm hole to fill, and always craved for more and more and more, making every little coin spent on them a pleasure. But Sadaa did not... feel like a whore. She could have been a pleasure slave, yes, and Drago knew it. He did not ignore that many must have used her and filled her just as he had done, but how many would have done it as kindly as he had?

Drago tried to believe that there were still other good, loving men that also happened to lay hands upon these sort of poor, laboured women, but it was hard to ignore that somehow he should not be doing this to her. Sadaa... Maura was a slave. Most would see her like that. How he could protect her if not by giving her the freedom she sought, and then begging for her to remain?

All those thoughts were suddenly taken away when he noticed taht Sadaa had called him by his name. Just as he had wanted her to do. But was it out of respect, out of duty... or maybe out of the need and passion they were both feeling for each other. He could not mistake a woman's arousal. His hand gently rubbed against her in turn, along her own, needy movements, so that when he was not touching her, trying to finger her gently, she was making those rubbing movements.

That had him so excited that the merchant could not help it but pant gently agianst her ear, kissing her shoulder and neck once more so that he would not lose himself. He had her on his hands. He had nothing else he needed to worry about at that single moment, and the passion that burned in his loins for this woman. His other hand, as he leaned gently against her rear, came against her waist, and then trailed it's way along her buttocks and to run against her crevice, ticklish but gentle.

"Hmm... Sadaa...", he moaned gently on her ear as he started to nibble on her earlobe slowly as his hand reached against her, slowly, shyly approaching her through her crevice, sliding between her flesh before gently touching against her asshole. It was so timid a touch he had only rimmed her gently before taking the hand away and once more back against her waist.

Only to be replaced by something much thicker and hotter and harder. He had adjusted himself against her tailhole, and only so slowly he dared to press against her arse. He wanted to have her, but there was no need to be rough and unkind. He had used plently of the water and soap to lube himself, after all, and albeit he was thick, he just held against her, tight but kindly, as he started to move his hips against her rear, his flesh glueing himself against her back as he started to press against her ass.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

When would she have the opportunity on being taken otherwise? She had been untouched by man until her capture, and then it was taken from her, roughly and multiple times by multiple men. She had no time to lament the loss of her innocence, for her tears usually served to excite, not to deter. It was after that that she willed herself not to cry any longer. She would never let these strange men see her pain again.

If she had stayed pure, her husband among the tribe would have made sure that all of her needs were taken care of – she would have a good home, and a flock of goats, maybe a cow or two. But most importantly, she would be a mother, several times over. Her husband could have been an excellent lover – but if not, she was allowed to court one at their yearly festival.

And then Drago came and changed it, just that quickly. She had shown him her weakest side, and the thought of it left her shaking inside almost as much as his touch. He was using her, true, but it seemed to be a nicer use, as he was by far the gentlest and the kindest to her. This did hold some stock with her, but did not erase her unexpressed fear. As much as she wanted to hang onto her suspicion, she could not, not at the moment. He was making her feel too good, and she could not think beyond bringing her body to that electric peak again.

Her fingers worked her privates faster, pressing harder against her clitoris. Drawing in her breath sharply, she leaned forward against the edge of the tub, using it to help prop herself up. Her ass presented to him, the skin was deep brown, shining from the water. In a surprising move from her, she used the hand not manipulating her pussy to lightly spread her ass to him, exposing the dark pucker of her hole. She had been taken like this before, roughly and painfully. Part of her was scared, not wanting to be hurt again, but the other part was driven by the pleasure that her other hand was bringing her to. Her wetness clung to her fingers, dripping from her lips. Normally, when she was taken like this before, it was generally with little to no lubrication, and with no arousal on her part.

Gods, she wanted him to fill her again, to feel his warm pressure inside of her body. Anything to calm this fire, to give her mind and her senses back to herself. As his finger withdrew from her ass, she sighed in disappointment, only to jerk forward slightly as he replaced his finger with the head of his cock. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to relax. She knew if she kept tense, it would hurt her more. And, to aid him, she slowly pushed back on him, a small yelp of pain escaping her lips as his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle.

Slowly….bit by bit, half inch by half inch, she took him into her body, her fingers working faster at her clitoris. He filled her ass entirely, and she tossed her head back, biting her lower lip. It was still painful, but not nearly as bad as she had experienced before, and it just stoked the fire in her stronger. She wanted more of him, wanted him to fill her with his seed once again, to feel it spill down her thighs, and more than anything, she wanted that pleasure again, to be entirely spent beneath him and crazy from her release.

"Drago....!" And his name was half a plea, half a yelp. She wanted so much more.....

 

[LordLuck]

His movements were just so very slow. At first, his push against her rear had been gentle and caring, taking him several long moments to press on and on. For quite some minutes they remained there, in almost complete silence as the merchant started to sodomize her. It was simply one of the most sinful and forbidden acts of pleasure, condemned and shunned by both the Church and pious, chaste and devoted Ladies. Still, there were those maidens that, albeit willing to remain... pure for a husband, would gladly bend over and take it up their 'tails' in order to achieve that sexual pleasure that even now Drago was mixing up into Sadaa's gut.

For he was feeling her insides. Warm, enveloping insides. She was not too loosened, actually, she was surprisingly tight back there for a woman that was... or rather, had once been a pleasure slave. For Drago had never really wanted such slave. He would have her and enjoy her, but perhaps she would not be a slave on his household, no. Rather more like a servant as his children and his sellswords were.

He would have certainly prefered her that way. Gently, as he leaned all against her back, his face coming gently against her own to rub his cheek against hers befre nuzzling over her neck, Drago smiled as he grunted, forcing his hips against hers. "Sadaa... Oooh... Hmm... W-Wriggle your ass... please?", he asked her panting, while he could feel his manhood spreading her wide around his tremendous girth. He could see it dissapearing into her hole, inch after inch - first the tip and then the branch down to the stump.

And then, he moaned. Deeply nested into the woman's ass, Drago started to grunt and ground against her tight rear, feeling his manhood making her spread further and further, as if prying her more open with a tool. He cared not that it would make him cast out to hell - he only wanted to fill her ass with his seed as he started to move against her, his hands over her hips to hold her tight against him, as he started to gently move and rock against her, trying to forcefully spread her some more and get her more... prepared to take his rut.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She bit her lip as he pushed deep into her, and she whimpered. It hurt, of course....it always would before it got better. Aware that she was holding her breath, she let it out in a long pant. His body was heavy over hers, and she could feel his coarse chest hair against her back.

At his command, she wiggled her ass against him, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. As he began to move deep within her, the pain started again, and she rubbed at her clitoris harder, willing her body back into pleasure.

His moaning was louder than hers this time - she was largely quiet, sweat beading on her forehead as he began to thrust in and out of her. If she had thought his girth was something before, that was nothing compared to this. Now, it would be time for her "training" to come to the front, and she had to put her personal feelings aside. She now needed to move as he willed her to, to bring him to climax quickly so she could end this.

For once, she was glad that the action was taking place in the bath; it would be easier to clean up.

At a particularly hard thrust from him, she cried out like a wounded puppy, her hands stopping their furious motion in her pussy. Biting back tears now, she took another deep breath, and moved her ass against him as he asked, his public hair rough against the smooth curve of her ass.

 

[LordLuck]

Her sudden whimper had him growing worried for her, his hands moving around her body gently as if to soothe her down. His lips kissed her shoulder, her neck, her jawline and earlobe, munching on it softly as he whispered to her, trying to coo her down as his movements continued, slowing down for a moment in order to let her ass adjust to his feverish pace of rocking her. "Sadaa... Sorry...", he mumbled gently. "...But you drive me... to madness... with your body.", he moaned as he felt her clenching him once more with her rear, this time.

He could feel her smoothness. Lorenzo had his hands sliding along her body all the time, her smooth and neat hardness due to the muscles she had developed along her thighs and hips were making him even more given to pummel against her tailhole - for unlike other girls with weak knees, he knew that Sadaa could withstand anything he delivered on her.

But that did not meant he would brutalize her. She was a delicious and stout flower of the desert, a cactus from an unknown land - she had her spikes, but also the nourising water that could heal a man from death. This time it was him who reached between her legs, rubbing energically his own knuckles and fingers against her womanhood, his thumb pressing and handling her little orb to make it all more pleasant to her as well.

And so, he started to move again, his groin pressing and glueing itself against hers as he drilled and pumped his manhood deep against her rear entrance. He could feel her skin and muscle spreading out underneath him, and her waving, swaying motions of her hips making it all much more pleasant. He would not last too long now.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She only nodded weakly.

Her sweat began to run into her eyes, and she let her hands drop from her womanhood to dip into the water. Leaving one hand to grasp at the bottom of the tub, she used the other hand to wipe the sweat away from her eyes.

As he continued to pummel her ass, she moved in turn with him, trying to bring him to climax. The pain was subsiding now, but it did not promise her the same pleasure as when she took him before.

 

[LordLuck]

And as her hips moved in accord to his own, making his every movement, his every hilting and his every moan where denouncing the huge state of arousal that had reached and showered along Lorenzo's every feature. He was making sure that nobody would ever touch Sadaa, for he wanted her for his own. As selfish as it was, he knew that she would probably never find another master as he was.

The hand against her womanhood was playing with her still, brushing and caressing almost lovingly against her slit, two of his fingers probing into her, seeking a way inside while his thumb pressed against her little orb gingerly. As he battered against her ass, so his hands down between her legs held her tighter in place.

And that went on and on until he could not stand it anymore. After a number of grunts and gasps and moans, the merchant held her in place as he felt his every sense numbing and being washed by waves of pleasure. Deep into her rear, he exploded, filling her posterior entrance with his seed - the milky white goo, thick and dense, pouring deep into her tailhole and covering her insides into it as he moaned a name.

"Sadaa...", was his only word for long, long moments, as he filled her with his seed once more.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

As he came inside of her, she lurched forward, shuddering. Though his fingers had brought her pleasure, it was not enough for her to cum again. She wiggled free from under him, eager for his member to slip from her ass. He was gentler than most, but it was still painful for her to bear.

Without saying anything, she soaped herself and him again, dutifully cleaning after the act. She would step from the tub before him, holding out a towel to help dry him. Kneeling before him, she began to dry his legs with long slow strokes, her mind in a different world. Next, she figured, he would want her mouth to make his ownership complete. It would be better for her to accept these things and not to fight too much.

Helping him to dress, she kept her eyes down and away from his. What was it that she had felt earlier? Just that quickly, it was gone again. What sort of freedom would she truly have here? Sure, he could be a kind master that would give her pleasure, but it was doubtful that he would ever care how she really felt. She told him her name out of necessity - she had to go down to the market in order to get the herbs she needed to stop a baby.

"M'lord," she said, as she was dressing herself, "What would you desire for this evening's meal? I will tend to it while I am at market."

Would he send her out alone? Did he trust her not to run? Or would he send one of those men with her? Her old master had let her to go to market alone, but there was no reason then to fear that she would leave. Idly, she wondered if Drago would allow her the same freedoms.

 

[LordLuck]

For a long time he remained against her, even though she moved away from him. He had wanted to say hugged to her for as long as possible, even though he knew that the pain she had felt would be terrible. And even though he caressed her, and even allowed her to touch herself, Drago noticed that she had not reached the same rapturing pleasure she had felt when she had first mounted him, the sensual lioness was not so much addicted to it as she had been when she rode him.

He should take notice of that, he knew already. Drago smiled as she took the towel and helped drying him up - Sadaa was already used to the tasks of the bedchamber like he thought she would be. She had been compliant and nice to watch, helping him first before covering her own nakedness. The merchant stared at her face when she knelt before him, and for a moment really wanted to have her pleasing him with that mouth of hers, the complete and utmost sign of submission.

None shoud try get into a woman's mouth if he doubted her submission or her love and control - for everyone heard of women that feared nothing and bit down terribly against a man's phallus. He could not even imagine the pain of it. "Sadaa... We are alone. Call me by name as you did before, hmm?", he smiled as he looked down on her. Everytime he stared at those lips, he wanted to kiss her longly. "Of... Of course, you may go. Would... Hmm... Here.", he walked off the bath as the children had come upstairs with more water on buckets, struggling and sweating to do it.

"Ah, boys. Lay it over the Kitchen, we'll need water later.", he said with a smile towards both Giovanna and Paulo, who had hurried as fastly as possible. He turned towards the large chest before his bed, reaching into it, and producing a small pouch of coins of silver. Reaching it towards Sadaa once she was ready. "Here you go. Please, bring us some duck. Or perhaps a chicken or a goose, depending on what looks best."

And as he handed her the sack of coin, he leaned to kiss her lips. It was a loving kiss, gentle and long, even before the servant children that toiled on the kitchen to fill an old barrel with the water. After that, Drago smiled towards her. "Would you go off now? It's still early, you might catch the stalls of hunters still around."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

When he clung to her after the act, she sat there for a moment, waiting until he got his fill. The action had frightened her, but it was no difficult task to slip free from him. He would be exhausted; after all, he had taken her twice. She had heard much about the insatiable nature of younger men enamored with their women, but Drago did not seem the type.

Of course, she did not know her new master particularly well, either.

It would not have taken her long to get dressed. It would seem in that the time it took for Drago to look away and turn back to her, she was dressed again, her head wrap firmly in place as if it had never been removed. She had learned early the benefits of dressing swiftly. It would usually bring owners pleasure, as if it was hiding any indiscretion on their part. It would be hard for a wife or a mistress to accuse a lord of sleeping with the help when the help appeared immaculate as always.

She noticed his eyes on her lips, and for the slightest of moments, she smiled. The expression, full of mystery, did not hint at what was going on in her mind. At least she still had the retreat of her thoughts, even if her body and her time were not her own. What amused him about her, she wasn't even fully aware of. She just felt...tickled. Perhaps it was her assumption that he had never had someone of her color before, and he was just amazed that she worked the same way as any other woman. She had lived in this town long enough to have overheard what the people there had to say about her and her people. Black skinned, soul-less, better than animals. Some would even spit at her. But then, when her first master had purchased her, he had undressed her, spent long moments studying her body, scared to even touch her. When he was able to lay his hands upon her flesh, his hands had trembled. Something in her responded to that fear...

Well, that was then, and this was now. But still, she let herself be amused. It was not very often in her life that she found things to be funny.


"We will not be alone for long, M'lord," she said, turning to meet his eyes. Hers were ever dark, such a dark brown that they were almost black. "So it would be better for me to refer to you properly. Please do the same and call me 'Maura.' It is the name your kinspeople have given me, although I suppose it is yours to change as well."

Sad. She wasn't even allowed to keep her own name, and she treasured it, deep down. As long as she knew herself as Sadaa, there would always be a part that no one could own. Surprisingly enough, she had been able to speak to other slaves as they came back and forth on the market. Sometimes they spoke only through an exchange of looks, other times, it was through sneaked conversations where her native tongue flowed easily. The kindest masters, they had told her, were the ones that you needed to look out for. Through their kindness, they would wear away your desire to be free. They will fix it so that you will want to stay forever and be happy just to have their scraps, and then, they would turn you out to the streets.

She remembered that. One moment's pleasuring would not be enough to win her trust, no matter how sweet it may have been.

And she was grateful that the children came through the door at that moment - she was beginning to feel strange with his eyes on her. Once he got used to her, she told herself, he would stop looking at her like that. Perhaps it was because she was dark, or perhaps because he had been a long while without a women, who knew for sure. His kiss had caught her by surprise, and again, she stiffened under his touch, doing her best to return the kiss with an emotion that she did not feel. She was all too glad when it was over. It was just a reminder that he owned her, and was to use her as he pleased without regards to how she actually felt. If anything, the kiss helped her to clear her head further.

As he handed her the coins, with a practiced hand she weighed it. Her fingers caressed the pouch as her mind began to work quickly. If she shopped properly, she should have more than enough to make her purchases, maybe something nice for the children.

"I would, m'lord," she gave him a small bow, and headed down the stairs. She moved silently and swiftly on sandaled feet. As she entered the main room with the sell swords, she did not bow her head or avoid their gaze. Despite their laughter, she kept her gaze straight ahead. Rather than seeming like an embarrassed or a frightened slave, she seemed more like a captured queen, proud and regal to the end. for the briefest of moments, she regarded the sell-sword that was bald, considering, puzzling, and then she was out the door.

It was only as she was out the door that she realized that she had not taken stock of the kitchen - what spices were to be had, if there was salt, rice, flour, perhaps maybe even butter or cheese. With a slight curse, she still set out to the paths that she knew so well.

The cobblestones were cracked and well worn, but looking down at them, she still marveled a bit. Her home had no paved paths, and sometimes Acre was still a marvel to her. Beyond the roar of the crowds, she could still hear seagulls and smell the salt of the sea. Not even the masses of unwashed bodies, livestock, and decaying fish could remove that from her senses.

The first thing was first - she needed to get her herbs. Sure feet wound her deeper into the heart of the town, to a little building that was nearly hidden by drapery. The woman running the apothecary had to keep herself hidden in this land of religion. Though many would damn her, she provided a very necessary service in this world. As Sadaa entered, the woman looked up from her bowl and pestle, and gave her a large smile.

"Hello, Sadaa - your master up to his usual tricks?" The woman speaking to her was heavy-set, maybe in her late 30s, early 40s. She had light brown eyes and long black hair that was going gray at the roots. She was dressed as a peasant, in rough clothing of brown and tan. Her hands were sure, and her expression was kind to Sadaa. In her youth, she must have been a peerless beauty, but age and a hard life had taken the color from her cheeks and lips. But there was still an air about her that would draw anyone in. She had known the girl since she was a new slave, and her old mistress had brought her to the home almost cruelly.

"We want no half-demon children about the household," her old mistress had said, shoving her forward into the doctor woman's arms, "Fix her."

This woman had heard stories of those with dark skin as well, from the passing crusaders, but in her line of work, she knew all too well that people were people, despite how God chose to paint them. "Come now, stop your trembling," she had told the slave girl kindly. She was but a slip of a girl then, but now, she was a woman, and the promise of her beauty had only grown since then.

Sadaa smiled at the woman. "A new master this time, M'lady Adi," she said, stepping further into the building. It always smelled of mint and lemongrass, and of the bitterness that all medicines held.

"A new one?" said Adi, her inky brows raised. "What happened to Lord Isaac? Did his debt finally get the better of him?" The schemes of Isaac in Acre were a well-known secret. That, and the fact that he had used his fast words to get himself a bride that was well beyond his own social strata. How he was able to do it was proof alone that he was a wonderful talker with a tongue of gold.

Sadaa nodded, as she picked up a vial of peppermint leaves. "I was sold this morning to my new lord. He wasted no time," and she said the next words flatly. "He was kind to me for a moment, so I gave him what all men desire. And then he took my ass. So I will be needing something for that as well."

"He was gentle, I hope?" Adi's voice was soft, almost drowned out by the noise she made as she gathered her various herbs for what Sadaa was asking for.

Sadaa winced, remembering. "I suppose he was at first, but his eagerness overtook him." She sat down, albeit very lightly, on one of the many cushions that Adi had within her home.

Adi was a Hebrew woman, but one that had long turned away from the God of Abraham. She had seen too much of cruelty in her years to believe in the presence of a higher being, and despite it leaving some bitter lines on her face, she did not speak of it much. Her skin was tanned from years under the sun - like Sadaa, she was once a slave, sold to repay her father's debt. However, once she had ended up in a brothel, she used all of her skills to make her way out of it. The shop she stood in was her own, built upon a reputation for the potions she made when she was still a whore. In a town like this, full of slaves and treacherous men, she made a better living than her spirit would have liked. Her heart had instantly gone out to Sadaa - not only was she a slave, but to be so different in such a strange land...and so brave at that. Adi had to respect the girl, and between the two, a fast friendship had grown. Sadaa could trust Adi with anything, and vice-versa. Adi had saved for years, attempting to buy the girl, but her former Master, Isaac, would not have allowed it.


"Sadaa..." Started Adi, not looking up from the leaves she was grinding, "If I had but known that Isaac was to sell you..." she trailed off. She hated feeling like she had let the girl down. She had promised to herself that if Sadaa were to ever be sold, she would purchase the girl, give her a job in the shop and the closest thing to freedom that she could in a strange land. Adi saw Sadaa as a daughter, and it was due to Adi's good care that Sadaa did not look as terrible as she should have.

Sadaa smiled, and walked over to Adi, wrapping her dark arms around the shorter woman. "All is well, Adi. Lord Isaac sold me in a hurry - but I think he knew that this lord had the means to kill him if he did not pay his debt in a timely manner." Adi did not stop her mashing, and Sadaa held her, listening to the stone pestle in the bowl. Tears fell from Adi's eyes onto Sadaa's arms, into the bowl. Sadaa held her tighter, and did not say a word. After a few long moments, Adi sniffled, signaling the end of her tears. Gently swatting away Sadaa's hands, she bustled about the room, scraping the pounded leaves into a small jar before adding a little of this, and a little of that from different bottles to it. Corking it, she shook it vigorously, her generous bosom shaking before she handed it to Sadaa. "Take a little of this after he has you, and it should stop a baby. Come see me if it does not work, and I will give you something stronger. Sit for a moment while I get something for your end," and Adi gave her a small wink.

Despite her pain, Sadaa laughed. There was no injury that Adi was not familiar with, and though it embarrassed her to no end, she was glad that she had Adi in her life to help her.

"Are you running more errands after me?" Adi's voice came from the distance as she busied herself making another salve for Sadaa.

"Yes, m'lord desires fowl this evening. Him and the children and the sell swords...."


"My goodness! You have a full house to tend to. When will you get to tend to yourself?"


"Never, or if I'm lucky, in the wee hours of the morning when everyone still sleeps." Sadaa fidgeted on the cushion, clearly uncomfortable. When Adi came back out, she clucked her tongue and motioned for Sadaa to turn over.

"Get on all fours and lift your skirt!" For a moment, the two women were quiet, before bursting into laughter. Both had heard the command before, and usually it was nothing too kind that followed. Only now, with each other, could they laugh about it. Sadaa did as Adi asked, lifting up her skirts to expose her bare rear to the doctor. "This is going to hurt a little...." And both women started laughing again. As Sadaa laughed until tears ran from her eyes, Adi knelt behind her to apply the salve with careful hands. "There, my dark beauty, you should be good. Try to keep the master from that spot for a few days and you should be right as rain. If not, take this with you and use it when you can."

Pulling down her skirts, Sadaa stood up and took the jar from Adi. "Thank you again, little mother," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Blushing at the nickname Sadaa had given her, Adi crossed her arms, and made a shooing motion. "Out with you, or your lord will wonder what holds you so long."

"Aye...I know all too well," and with a heavy sigh, Sadaa fished out some coins from the purse Drago had given her. Folding a few silver coins in Adi's hand, Sadaa dashed out of the building before Adi could protest. Opening her hands, Adi stared down at the silver coins. Once again, Sadaa had overpaid her. And once again, Adi felt tears start in her eyes.
__________

The rest of the shopping went much quickly for Sadaa, for she did not care to do it as much. She could argue the moon from the sky, and it would not take long for a shopping basket (recently purchased as well, as she did not have her old one) would be full with two plump chickens, various dried fruits and greens, rice, sweets for the children, and goat's milk.

She frowned to herself. If she had been able to keep pets as she had desired before, she could have saved half of the money she spent. Perhaps, once she got settled, she would mention the benefits of having a garden and a few chickens to her lord.

 

[LordLuck]

For a moment, the silent had come to the main storeroom downstairs, for the light steps were being heard as Sadaa made her way downstairs. She had such a port that all the sellwords who had been chatting and bragging about their own feats of valour suddenly shushed up in order to stare at her. It was a blatant stare, that of men who did not value their honour or their courtesies more than the coin that fed their purses.

"Damn, look at that ass...", the youngest of them spoke too loud in his hushed tone that the older frowned as the woman passed by. The young man was almost drooling all over himself, his lips spread in a mocking smile as if he expected to approach and aboard Sadaa, his eyes locking against her swaying hips. But suddenly, one of the other men took a rather large, pale hand to slap at the lecherous youth's nape.

"You respect the woman, Robbio.", the bald man said before she locked her eyes against his for the feebles of moments. While the young man wore flamboyant, colorful clothes, the older man wore simple, plain and rusted mail over a battered leather jerkin, his tunic as worn as he was. The bald man looked a little bit queer between them, for his speech had a heavy accent underlying it. "The Master will have your fingers if you touch her."

Robbio seemed undaunted, albeit he took his eyes from Sadaa's neat, round rear. "And how will he do it? The man is old and fat and can't wield a dagger for his life!" The older man slapped Robbio's nape, this time. "You shush your gutter mouth, imbecile. Don't doubt that either Phokos or I would carry on the order."

That made Robbio blush and look away from Sadaa even as she had left the storehouse through the front door. "Shouldn't anyone follow her?" The young man asked as he stretched his fingers. "Not you. The Master issued no word about it.", the bald man, Phokos, went on. "He should be getting here soon." And on a last glance he had on her eyes, Phokos smiled. A gentle smile.

And about a handful of moments since Sadaa had left, the ponderous, heavier steps of their Master announced his coming. The little boy he kept as a cupbearer came down too, carrying a heavy tome, a codex where he kept his accounts and a number of parchments to do his calculations. "So, good men all... We are finally here, eh? Acre!"

"Acre!", the older man replied with a smile of his own. Drago shook hands with him and patted at both Phokos and Robbio's backs. "Paulo, get these thirsty men some wine from those casks over there. They must be almost drying up on this heat!", the merchant's smell of a just taken bath made them all notice how they reeked after weeks on the sea without any water but to drink. The young boy reached for the casks, taking upon a handful of wooden cups to pour them some of that.

At the same time, Lorenzo walked towards a worn desk right besides the main two corridors between three long rows of stacked up goods. It seemed that Isaac had done some good money while trading and safekeeping goods for him to trade and re-sell back on Italy. He pulled up another ledger from the desk - a smaller tome where the accounts of credit and debit should be written. Drago had quite some work to go on through before he could sleep this night - but since Sadaa had been easing his nerves so lovingly, he would endure.

He would. "Master Drago...", the older man started. "...How long do you pretend to remain on Acre? I've heard from the sailors that the Saracens are once more raiding the waters from here to Tyre. We might first go to Famagusta... if going to Tyre after all.", the older man started. His hair was salt-and-pepper as some would see it. "Giovanni, we were bound to port for three days. I don't look forward to pay any more coin to those port-wardens.", he started as he tipped a quill on the ink.

"Help me sort the goods, and check if Isaac isn't cheating on my accounts again."

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Drago would find, that despite all of Isaac's sweet lies, he was a fair book keeper and did have a knack with money once it fell into his hands. It was truly a testament of his spendthrift lifestyle and the ways of his wife that he had little or nothing to show for it. Isaac was from a priestly family - Jewish by birth, and slowly but surely trying to make his way towards the West for better opportunity and riches. However, his wife, Rebekah, was from a higher class merchant class, and took no pains in constantly reminding Isaac of his lower birth. But, he loved her (or he loved her title), so he was not inclined to put up much of a fight against her.

_____

"No, I want those," and she pointed to a particularly ripe looking batch of pomegranates. The merchant looked at her with an evil eye, and sighed, before smiling a little. "Maura, you are always my toughest customer," and the merchant handed her the basket of jewel-like red fruit. "And what might you be making this evening?"

Sadaa, now known as Maura again, smiled secretively. "I do not know yet. But these pomegranates were too good to pass up." Holding the basket close to her face, she inhaled deeply of the fragrant scent. She had a weakness for the fruit - they were something she could nibble on all day, and the deep red of their skins was a color that reminded her of home. But, with these, she should be able to make a fair sherbet, thinking of the heat of the day. Or, if she had more time, perhaps even a wine.

She handed the merchant a coin or two, and shifted the basket in her arms. Now, she was done with her dinner preparations, and it was just a small matter of getting back to the store house. Even with her giving more money to Adi for her delicate treatment, Sadaa still had a fair bit of coin left over. For many, it would be a strong temptation to use it on themselves, but Sadaa did not have that impulse. She did not want for much - finery was beyond her, and she had seen firsthand how it could spoil things-, save her freedom (or to return to her home), and it seemed unlikely that she would ever have the coin for that.

Wandering back to the storehouse, her mind went to the calculations of running a household. The sell swords, would they stay for dinner? Would she have to wash their clothes? Would they even bother with bathing? She looked down at her basket, brimming with various purchases. She had bought all with the idea that she would be feeding the entire household. Well, worse case scenario, she could salt some of the meat so it would keep.

The sell swords would be on their 2nd or 3rd cup of wine when she got back, coming in as quietly as she had left, various baskets on her arm. As she saw Paulo, she gestured for him to come over to her. The heavy-set boy, still a little scared from the earlier incident, walked over to her.

"Here, for being such a good helper," and she presented him with a small sweet that she had bought specially for him. Seeing his heavy frame, she knew that he would probably be eager for any sort of treat. Paulo looked at her, then at Drago, then at her again. With chubby fingers, he took the sweet from her hand, and gave her a shy smile. Being a boy in these ages, he knew something of the acts between men and women, and was at the age that such activities tended to spark his interest - hence his reluctance to leave the room earlier. But for a random woman, a slave, no doubt, to be so kind to him from the start....His cheeks flushed as he touched her hand.

"Thank you, Maura...." and his voice stuttered a little. With a further smile, she ruffled his hair, kneeling to his level. The boy turned a deeper shade of red, and looked shyly down at his feet.

 

[LordLuck]

And for that the merchantman was quite pleased. As he walked through the lines of merchandise, from frankincese towards silk, to cinnamon and salt, to velvet and linen, everything seemed to be in place. Giovanni and Paulo had been helping him checking the fabric, unrolling the meters and meters fo the expensive and very lucrative product in order to measure it once again - and once more, Isaac had done it right.

Too bad he was going to have to give him quite a press. Isaac was a young man in love, and that made men in general to do quite stupid things - like sending a slave woman to threaten his partner's life. Drago knew not what to do, really. He liked Isaac and Sadaa enough not to have them both gutted and hanged, but he could not really lower his head and ignore what Isaac had done to him. If word of it reached outsiders, like the Brotherhood that competed with Drago's own Guild, things would be in for trouble to all of them.

Robbio and Phokos were playing a game with dice, carved little pieces from bone. Drago owned a set back home, one made of ivory and ebony, a gift from the Doge himself. It had been his most treasured trinket, for he used to play it during long nights between their pillow sessions... with Laura. The very thought of it made him smile. But as Sadaa got into the storeroom, he nodded for Giovanni to go and fetch himself another cup.

Paulo had just accepted the little sweet. From here, Lorenzo could already tell it was that one made with raspings from orange's crust, cooked with honey's sugar. "You are going to spoil him.", The trader smiled as he approached them. His fingertips were already black with ink, but it would wash. "So, what have you brought home, good Maura?" He would love to call her Sadaa, but it had been her wish to be treated by that other name publically. Perhaps they would keep at her true name only on their intimacies, perhaps a well-kept secret to be uttered and moaned on the black of night. "I certainly hope you got us some fine meal."

Then, he leaned against her gently, kissing her cheek, trying to notice if she would welcome a kiss on the lips on her own. If he took it - and he could, as her Master, she might begrudge him so. Robbio's eyes always wandered along Maura's body, and she certainly knew it by the way the youth smiled dumbly.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

The shy smile on Paulo's face was enough of a reward for her.

As Drago spoke to her, she stood up straight, and gestured at the basket on her arm. "Chicken, m'lord, and other such things. I was not sure of what all was to be had here."

She turned her cheek to accept the kiss, but her eyes did not meet his. Always, after visiting with Adi, she became a little sad. With Adi, she was the freest - and it was always painful to give that up. It would have been nice to have been sold to her...but maybe there was still a chance. She would mention it to her lord later that evening, after he was full and happy. Then was always the best time to ask for favors.

For a moment, she looked over at Robbio, her eyes holding his. Unlike the shy or submissive gaze that she gave Drago, she glared directly at Robbio, an unspoken challenge. She was not scared of him, and used to dealing with his type.

"Why does your sell sword look at me so?" she asked, looking to Drago for an explanation. "Is it because I am....", pausing, she pursed her lips, looking for the word that was often shouted at her in the streets, at least, until people got used to her. "a Moor?" Is that how you would call my people?"

 

[LordLuck]

For a moment, Drago thought about her words, turning around to stare back at Robbio. The young bravo had managed to match Sadaa's stare with a mocking dignity, as if daring her to come to him and demand and explanation herself from his own lips. That was what he had expected. What he had not really foreseen was Lorenzo staring back at him with a stern gaze. "Some would call you a Moor, yes. But I see that you are no Berber. No Arab. We have many names for your people, Maura, but most also refer to Arabs and Muslims in general. Like Saracens and Turks. For us fools, they are one and the same."

And Robbio stared away, back to the dice. Giovanni chuckled at the scene, while Phokos simply shrugged away, taking the dice and the coins down to his pocket. The Greek was a lean man, not as clever as Giovanni nor as nimble as Robbio. He took a piece of fabric and run it over his clean shaven head, stealing a glimpse at Maura.

"The man looks at you because he hasn't taken a woman in months. And should use the money I pay him to seek for one rather than stare at you with lewd eyes.", Drago spoke aloud, making Robbio blush even harder. "Ignore the fool, Maura. Please, let's go upstairs. I'm sure there is plenty for you to prepare for us. Giovanna was sweeping the floor, call her if you need."

At the same time, Giovanni had produced himself a large kettle, from a small fireplace on the storage area. The sellswords had their own meals paid with their own money, after all. She would not be required to cook for them.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

"My people do not use a name that yours would," she said."Arabs were the ones that sold me. They have lighter skin than mine. My people and Arabs are nothing alike."

At the bitter memory, her mouth tightened. She did not want to recall that day, not for the rest of her life. The terror she had felt, yanked by rough hands and taken away from all she had known and loved in such a short amount of time. From the lusher plains she had been forced across dry and arid lands, full of things that she had not seen. Even now, in the marketplace, she could not look at slavetraders without experiencing something close to a panic attack.

Noticing Giovanni pull something from the fire, she looked to Drago. "Oh....I thought that I would be cooking for everyone here. Can you tell them to spare their money, and they can eat here? I do not want the food to spoil."

________________

Upstairs, she found Giovanna daydreaming, her task of sweeping the floor complete. Deliberately making noise so the girl could hear her, Sadaa smiled.

"Little one, would you like to help me with dinner?"


Still surprised, Giovanna jumped up, and ran over to help Sadaa with her baskets. "Of course," she said.

As the two girls unloaded the baskets, Giovanna would sneak shy glances at Sadaa, just looking. How was her skin so dark? Why did she wear that head wrap? Why did she have those markings on her face?

Sadaa, with a knowing smile, continued to pull feathers from the chickens.

"You want to know about me, don't you?" Her tone was gentle, and her hands, much used to preparing dinners, did not stop in their motions. Soon, the chickens in front of her were bare, the feathers put aside for a myriad of later uses.

Giovanna, caught, blushed a deep red, and fumbled with the greens she was chopping. "I mean no harm, Maura...I have never seen anyone like you....and why did you try to kill m'lord?" Giovanna's voice shook a little with the question, but she was young yet and was full of curiosity. It seemed a strange thing to her that things had changed so suddenly...and she was not entirely sure if Maura still meant them harm.

If Sadaa was surprised, she did not show it. She let out a long sigh as she began to season the chicken flesh with precious salt, and various spices before putting it to a pan. There would be no harm in telling the child the truth.

"It does seem strange. But I will tell you a story..."

Giovanna's eyes lit up. "I love stories!"

Sadaa smiled. "Then I have a good one - it is both happy and sad, but mostly sad...."

___________________

About 2 hours later, the two would come down the stairs, holding plates of steaming food. Sadaa chose to roast the chicken slow, and it smelled of strong spices - she had cooked it in a mix of the goat's milk, greens, and spices.

Giovanna, changed from the story, seemed to follow Sadaa like a second shadow, looking to her for every move to make. Once the two of them finished setting the food out, Sadaa took a step back, waiting for the men to come and eat. Whatever was left over, as a slave, would be her due. She had secreted away her purchases from Adi so that they would not be easily found, and she had set the pomegranate seeds to boil with sugar. That would be the base for the sherbert she planned to serve later.

 

[LordLuck]

And so he did. It was just so queer how the merchant was starting to melt under any and every of Sadaa's suggestions. "Hold your hands, Giovanni. You boys are eating with us today.", he spoke. It was rather a rare feat for them all to eat togheter - the sellswords were exactly that - mercenaries from the wickest sort, albeit Drago had been lucky to hire those that looked proper and honest enough, but would not really be surprised to discover lacking loyalty if their payment was ever held for a month. "What's the occasion, Master?", Phokos asked with his weird, heavy greek accent.

They usually only shared meals togheter during feasts or otherwise. When they had to bargain agressively with other merchants trying to evict or even take his storehouses, or during religious days. He had to tell that to Sadaa. Upstairs, there was a finely crafted table where he used to eat alone, while the children ate on the floor besides him and the servants stood, waiting for their turn.

The woman thought we'd all eat togheter; he had almost awnsered. But then, he smiled knowingly. He could always use this for his own benefit. "Maura was kind enough to prepare us a feast, since you boys managed to get us safe and sound on land.", he smiled as he scratched his curled hair, smiling. "Why, that's fine, Master.", smiled Robbio.

"Then you lay that threstle table. We are all feasting and drinking togheter."

At once, the men made a space by moving boxes and crates and barrels of salted, smoked fish away, piling them against other crates and barrels and making a space where they prepared a threstle table with wooden planks and stolls. Ordering Paulo upstairs, he went into the kitchen area to fetch some wooden cups and plates, running downstairs to lay the table while Phokos was already opening another jug of wine.

The girls were too busy talking with each other when the merchant arose from downstairs, coming to the window as seeing how the dusk had come quickly. The wharves were still very busy, as the sun was setting beyond the sea. He could see his ship from here, as well as some of the lights from the town. The number of people on the street was diminishing greatly, and those that walked were usually armed - the night street could be quite dangerous, with whores and bravos and murderers and thieves all around.

For a while, he had Paulo around him, hearing him repeat the numbers he had been taught while perusing the merchandise. When the food was ready, he went downstairs too, motioning for the men to come and sit and for the children to sit on the crates besides. Their due would also be the lesser part of the meal, as it was only proper.

"The scent is marvellous, Maura.", he smiled towards the woman, taking upon the only silverware dishes on the whole storehouse - a knife and a plate and a spoon. Leaning closer to her, he whispered so that the man that were seating and expecting him to cut the spiced chicken. The Master had the right for the best parts of the meal. "Here, sit on my lap and let us eat togheter, hmm?", he patted his lap once he started to hack the chicken's breast, a wing and a leg for himself.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

"I cannot sit, M'lord, there is more that I must tend to," she said with a slight nod of your head. Giovanna looked on with a bit of envy. With the same small smile that she had only for those younger than her, Sadaa gently pushed Giovanna forward. "But this one would be more than happy to take my place."

Giovanna looked back to Sadaa with a surprised expression before it broke into a large smile. She then looked to Drago, to make sure it was okay.

When Phokos spoke, he instantly drew Sadaa's attention. The fact that he was bald, she was still trying to make sense of it. But truth be told, she did not find him displeasing to look at. His lack of hair just drew attention to his face, which had a leanness to it that reminded her of the nomadic people she grew up with. Being from a tribe that fought the land for every bite, she had an appreciation for those who lived the same and did not have the time to grow fat from the land.

But...to look too long at a man that was not her master would surely cause displeasure, so she would look away. The one that had looked at her openly was a little too immature for her - she knew of men like him, and had no interest. the eldest, Giovanni, seemed to be a good man...but she could not judge, not just as of yet.

Making sure that everyone was settled and enjoying themselves, she excused herself with a brief nod, and went back upstairs. Not too much longer, she came back down, balancing a series of bowls on various trays.

"I hope that this will be to everyone's liking on such a warm day," and she presented them with bowls heaped with a chill red ice. She had managed to craft the sherbert that she had purchased the pomegranates for, and it smelled of the fruit, honey, and a bit of spice.

 

[LordLuck]

At her remark, suddenly, a blush came up to Drago's face. For since Laura passed away, he had spending less and less time acting as Giovanna's father, as he once had so eagerly. Had he played it earlier only to please Laura rather than out of his own goodwill? The thought made him sick. He smiled and nodded towards Sadaa, nodding, and looking towards the little girl that was the daughter of his choosing.

"Why not? Of course, little lass. Come here. Up you go.", he told her once he laid both arms against the child's waist and lifted her eagerly to lay the golden-curled girl against his lap. He kissed her cheek gently, like a father would for his daughter, before he started to chop the food and eat chunks of it himself, always chopping some for her to fetch with her little fingers too. "How is it, hmm? It's... mmh... delicious. Have you taught this to Maura?", he smiled playfully at the girl, nodding so that the men could have at it too.

Phokos reached for it first, eager to carve out the other leg for himself, while Giovanni took a slash at the meaty part of it before assuring himself of the remaining wing. They all went against the chicken with smiles and greasy fingers, relishing every little morsel. At the same time, Robbio was careful enough to take the noble neck and a part of the breast for himself, while Drago chopped the other breast - or what remained off it, a healthy, meaty piece, for Sadaa. She cooked wonderfully.

Most of the filling went to Paulo, as all the men were glad to cut a little meat for the boy, that stood running along the table and taking anything he could. "You... You bought ice?", Giovanni asked out of turn as he saw the dessert that Sadaa had brought them. It was way too expensive, specially down here. Still, the scent was so fresh and alluring that Drago didn't even cared. "Come and eat here.", he told her. "My lap is large enough for my two girls.", he laughted loudly as he kissed at Giovanna's forehead, the little girl jumping off to come to eat with Paulo at the crates.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She said nothing to Giovanni's question, but gave him another secretive smile. After all, she worked well with the merchants, and knew how to get nice things without having to act like a whore to get them. She had gotten the ice for a song - the merchant had remembered how Sadaa had helped him with a prior matter, and gave her some leavings.

With her duties done for the moment, she nodded, and walked towards Drago. The idea of sitting on his lap made her a little uncomfortable. She had never sat on Isaac's lap while they dined. She had stood the entire time, watching him and Rebekah eat. It was her job to be on hand for whatever they needed.

Wouldn't this be improper?

She gave him a look that had a question in it. But, she sat on his lap nonetheless, waiting for him to make the next move. The smell of the chicken had set her stomach to rumbling, but she would not reach for any of it out of turn. He would have to tell her when it was okay for her to eat. She sat uncomfortably on his lap, her ass still sore from the pounding he had given her earlier. Adi's salve had helped immensely, but not enough to take all of the pain away.

 

[LordLuck]

His hands gently enlaced the woman's waist as she sat on his lap. He allowede her to make herself confortable on it, even if she prefeered to sit straight forward, giving him her back, or rather with both her legs crossing over his own, her back against his side so that he could touch her, hold her and offer her the leverage of his touch.

For Drago was not married. Or rather, he was widowed. He had loved Laura very much, and remembered having her on his lap while both ate on occasion. He liked to feel Sadaa like that - and mainly now, before his men, showing them all who she belonged to, and that none should lay a finger on her. It was a method of showing them his possession over her. Some said that the northern barbarians used to make their women and slaves blow their manhoods until they ejaculated all over their faces. These women and thralls were not supposed to clean it, never, for the dried up seed would mark them as used and owned so others would not try to soul their mates.

And Robbio seemed to get the message, for he did not even dared to look upon Sadaa again. Phokos risked some glances, but all were discreet. Giovanni simply seemed not to care as they all ate and finished the main course before reaching for her desserts. Sherbert was quite rare. At the same time, the merchant reached for the plate and the still warm meat he had saved for her.

"Go on, dear. Eat.", he told her as he also motioned for the children to come and take some bowls for themselves. He leaned against the woman to kiss at her cheek lovingly. "...It was simply... wonderful. But we do not use to eat with the men often. We usually eat upstairs while they eat here on the storage.", he told her, his hands caressing her body gently, along her tummy. He could feel her ass curves against him, but yet seemed not too much interested. He only wanted Sadaa against him.

The man reached for this own goblet of wine, draining it and pouring more himself instead of asking her to do it.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

She had settled on his lap, her rear directly above his manhood. She did this not to entice him, but to find a comfortable way for her to sit, since he had done such a number on her rear before.

"I was not aware. My apologies, m'lord," she said softly. How would she have known otherwise? At his words, she began to eat, delicately picking up bits and pieces of the chicken with slender fingers. Before she was brought here, her people had eaten with their hands, and she did so with a grace that was not often seen in the West.

It would not be too much longer before all of the plates were clean, and everyone was beginning to feel the affects of a good meal. Eyes were growing heavy and movements were sluggish. Slipping from Drago's lap, without a sound she began to pick up the plates. She would need to clean so Drago could get back to his work.

 

[LordLuck]

How he had missed this feeling. To have a woman on his lap, directly above his manhood. It was nested neatly against her, but still, after twice having her this very day, it did not soar on it's own, albeit Drago could have concetrated to make it rise. Still, he did not. His people also ate with hands, truthfully, wearing only knifes to chop meat and spoons to taste soup. The meat was picked with his fingers as well, albeit her gestures were indeed way more nimble than his own.

"No need to, my dear.", he told her with a smile. Their meal was all but done. The greavy of grease and spices was delicious to simply lap upon, diving his spoon on it and appreciating the tasty morsels of meat and crusty skin he could find on it, soaked on the grease. "...I should have told you, really."

Once she stood up, he took his hands to gently caress her ass, lovingly, patting on it. And as she started to walk upstairs, he wished his men good night, ushered the sleepy children upstairs too, and followed then up.

There, he closed the door towards the storeroom, but never locked it. If any robbers got into the overhouse, they would rush quickly with sword in hand. Upstairs, he could see both Paulo and Giovanna curling up to sleep togheter on the floor of the main room, against the large brick oven where the chicken had been cooked - the warmest place on the room, the 'kitchen' area. He closed the windows to the outside himself, staring one last time at the night. The moon had rose already, and a patrol of three crusaders walked in black coats with white crosses on the chest, wearing armour and bearing two torches.

He nodded to them with a smile, doubting they would even notice him until he moved to close the shutters. Walking back towards his 'bedroom', he looked outside, watching as Sadaa moved to lay the plates over the pool that served as sink. There was still water to wash it, but she could do it in the morrow.

"Sadaa... Come here, if you please.", he asked her softly. "...Will... You sleep with me?", suddenly, Drago felt so shy as if he had been courting an older, noble girl back at his days of youth.

 

[Apollo Wilde]

Looking up from the dishes she had set in the pool, she spoke softly. "If m'lord wishes it."

She left the dishes to the pool. Perhaps a soaking overnight would make her task easier in the morning. Walking to stand next to him, she began to undo his clothes, setting them up and aside as she took them from his body. Again, she was on her knees before him, removing his breeches with feather light touches. Her breath was warm against his phallus, as if she moved just the right way....she could take him in her mouth.

But she did not. Unlike before, she could no longer smell herself on him, and that gave her a strange sense of comfort.

In a short amount of time, she had him bare before her. Turning her back to him, she removed her turban, and the knife within, setting both aside.

Undressing, she was quiet as always, kneeling to remove the sandals from her feet. She always felt better once she was nude, but it was strange to have a man here with her before she went to bed. Isaac never slept with her, and she had been given a corner in the home. She felt....shy, almost. But now, if he had wanted to take her again, he could. It would have been such a small thing for him to now.

Moving to the bed, she pulled back the sheets, standing beside it, nude with her hair freed, waiting for him to enter.

 

[LordLuck]

"I-I... I do.", for long the young man had not had a woman. For longer still, he had not have slept with anyone - for when Laura fell ill the first time, she begged him not to share her bed anymore, fearing for the contagion that could come to him. So, Drago had obeyed. Now, he wanted her on his bed every night, if only to hold her against him, to feel her warmth.

There, when she knelt before him, the tradesman stared on her eyes, on her dark face, hoping she would offer him a kiss down his loins. A fool's hope, if proved, and he had even hoped about it, yes, but for now, he smiled down on her, kindly. He could take her by the hair and force himself against her. He could simply slap his manhood against her face.

But he did not. Her warm breath had him swelling automatically, but he would not make use of her further. She had enjoyed it the first time, but not so much as the second, he was aware. He did not wanted to blow it all by forcing her again. He approached her, holding her gently, kissing her cheek before getting into the covers as she had motioned for him do.

"Come in here, Sadaa...", he asked her softly, holding the covers on his own, begging for that black beauty of the east to come to him, with him. He expected for her, his eyes washing over her whole form with some sort of unspoken amazement as it had done earlier. "And... if you let me... hug me?"