1001 Nights_(1)

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Anina Silk

My kinky shrink boyfriend, a sex therapist who believes in acting out sexual fantasy, is never at a loss to conjure up exotic, erotic scenes for us to sexually explore. He has a series he calls “1001 Nights” as semi-based on the classic tale of Sheherazade, except his stories involve naughtier exploits of adventure.

In this tale, he is dressed in the lace and silks of an 18th-century European diplomat, powdered perruque and all. (Yeah, he can afford such stuff.) He greets me at the door to his posh New York City high-rise apartment where he invites me into his master bedroom. I take a seat on the 4-poster bed. He pours me a glass of sherry. (Yeah, he’s British, too.) I clink “cheers” with him and swallow it down. After three glasses, a flush runs to my cheeks. he kisses me and tells me to strip.

Once naked, I take my position spread eagle across the bed. he tells tonight’s story while he fastens my wrists and ankles with black bands of silk to the four corners of the bed then slips a blindfold over my eyes.

“Imagine you are in a distant time in a place far away, exotic and strange,” he says with warm, Altoid-sweetened breath flowing across my face. “You, my dear, are the latest addition to a sultan’s harem, but you are unresponsive to his amorous intentions. In fact, he calls you his marble princess.

“Now, imagine me, the dashing foreign emissary. He’s seen you eye me with a spark of desire through your veil as you served us both dates and muscatel. Ah, your veil. I’ll attend to that in a moment, but first…”

I feel a smooth silk strip of cloth being strapped between my teeth and tied behind my head. He explains, “Yes, his intent is to keep you bound, blind, and voiceless while he plots to melt away your hardened resolve with my hapless aid. Let’s see to veiling you properly now.”

I hear soft jingles of tiny bells and bangles of a headdress. He pulls it on snugly over my crown then fastens a silky veil across the bridge of my nose. My breath anxiously billows the thin fabric in and out. Cool wisps of sheer material are laid over my exposed body. I have no idea what color they are or what they suggestively reveal, but I can imagine.

“The sultan has a plan. He has commissioned me with the temerarious task of penetrating the ice sheath encasing his concubine’s sexual desire. However, it’s not to be achieved as simply as my wooing her petals open with my charm and grace. No, he has laid down the gauntlet for a feat most unfeasible. As his interpreter explains to me, I am to be stripped naked, save for my perruque, and blindfolded with hands bound behind my back.”

I hear the rustle of clothes being removed as his soft, baritone voice with its polished Oxford tones continues the set up. “He tells me that I will be brought into a room where the lovely lady in question will be found bound to a great bed. It is my job to wend my way to her then arouse her libido with naught but ministrations of lips and tongue. You can imagine my indignation and my reluctance.” I hear him grunt with the exertion of binding his own hands behind his back. Don’t ask me how he does this. He just does this. “But I am overpowered and thrust into a chamber whose contents I know nothing of. I listen for a sound, a whimper, a breath, a movement, in order to direct myself.”

Picking up on this cue, I move my head setting off the tinkle of bangles and let out a muffled groan.

“‘Madam,’ I beseech, ‘Are you unharmed? Know you who I am?’ I am not even sure she speaks my language, so I ask the same in the various dialects I know.”

I maunder a reply and jangle the bells once more.

“From the sounds of it,” his voice grows closer, “you are unable to speak. Fret not, madam, I have not been sent to harm you. In fact, I am utterly unable to lift a hand against you.”

I hear him bump into the side of the bed and feel his naked body sidle next to mine. My heart pounds. The veil on my face pulsates with my excitement. My loins throb and juice.

“There you are. let me sense you out and know of your condition.” His lips brush over my torso, tripping lightly over my nipples. They glide on hot breath up to my neck and my mouth where they touch down briefly before brushing over my cheek and the blindfold banding my eyes.

“Blinded as I am I see,” he murmurs. “But you are gagged beneath your veil.” His gaziantep escort lips press soft kisses over the fabric covering my mouth. I can hardly contain myself.

“I’m not certain you can understand me, but I have been sent to arouse you with my lips and tongue. If I fail in my mission, then I fear we shall both meet our fates at the end of an executioner’s axe. As I do not care to have my young life snuffed out in so cruel and barbaric a manner, I intend on coaxing the most volcanic eruption of erotic passion from deep within your stony vestibule.”

I groan longingly with each delicate suckle of his mouth along my neck and down my clavicle. His teeth nip teasingly at my nipples and send shivers through my body setting off a trill of jingles from the bells on my headdress. I writhe in the restraints as he pulls the veils from my body with his teeth then sets his mouth to my breasts, sucking them, licking them, prompting them to rise and swell with torturous pleasure.

A shrill cry climbs past the gag. He moves his mouth to mine and blows gently, soothingly, “Shhhh! Easy now. We wouldn’t want the sultan or his men thinking I was violating you. Not that I would be able.”

I could feel him trying to adjust himself in his self-bondage in order to find a more comfortable position. “Now, let’s see go south of the border and explore the steamy jungles, shall we?”

Hot kisses travel down my body to my pussy weeping with desire. He maneuvers his body a-stride mine and buries his face in between my quivering legs. I can hardly control myself under the ravagings of his masterful tongue and teeth upon my clit and labia. I struggle in vain hope to squeeze my legs together to enhance the sensation.

“Hmmm, your fruits are most savory and succulent. Does my nibbling sensually distress you?”

I mumble an ecstatic agreement to his query. I fight the oncoming orgasm. I don’t want this fantasy to end. It’s too damned good!

He lifts his head and turns to face me. “Resisting, I see. Hmmm. We’ll just have to do something about that.” He grunts with effort to reposition himself. Once again his face has blindly found mine. He plies my veiled and gagged mouth with kisses as he muses, “Perhaps if you were to look at me the way you did when serving up delectibles at the sultan’s behest… but how?” He latches onto my blindfold with his teeth and tugs it from my eyes. I blink my way to focus and see his lean physique leaning over me with arms pinned behind his back. A wide black band of cloth leers down at me. The perfume of his perruque tickles my nose. I study the pursing of his sweet mouth as it sets up the next kiss. “I hope my magnificent form inspires you to aspiring toward the preferred state of titillation.”

My eyes beg for his beauty from within and without, but he can’t see my longing. He leans down to nudge the veil and reach my mouth with hsi are lips. He softly kisses me through the gag. I moan. “Hmmm, love it when you do that.”

I feel the tip of his erect penis tip-toeing across my breasts. He moves to my right. “Let’s see if we can get a handel on this development.” His mouth skates along my arm to the restraint on my wrist. He works the knotted loop with his teeth until it loosens. “Your hand is free to stroke me, my love.” I curl my fingers around the hot, throbbing flesh of his organ as he straddles me. I stroke up and down until he’s to the point of cumming. He pulls away, scoots down, and lightly brushes my clit with the moistened tip.

I can’t stand it anymore. I cum, I cum, I cum. Before I realize it his hands are free and undoing the binds at my ankles. My legs are up and spread wide. His fingers tickle my clit while his mouth clamps upon the nipple of my right breast. His other hand pulls away the headdress to entwine fingers with silken strands of hair before pulling the gag from my mouth. Before I could utter my orgasmic cry, his mouth stopped mine in fitful determination. He burned through me like hot lead through butter. I swore I heard sizzling.

I felt the waning of his penile pulsation as the warm ooze of cum flowed down my legs. He had completed his mission of bringing a frigid harem girl to orgasm — albeit, not exactly as prescribed by the odious sultan. But rest assured, no heads rolled — only our pleasured bodies over the silk sheets as we dreamt of the next tale to come.

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