Under the Abaya

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Under the Abaya

Part one

When someone asks you about Arab women, you would probably think about religious women who are brutally oppressed by male clerics.

You would think about how they are forced to wear a hajib and cover their faces, how their male oppressors are allowed to have multiple wives and that they have little to no rights. You would probably assume that under their dark skirts and head scarves that they wear boring dull clothes.

It is my experience that this misconception is highly inaccurate. Arab women are charming, fun loving and when it gets down to it, just as horny as everyone else.

What if I were to tell you one of the world’s most profitable Victoria Secret Stores is in the kingdom of Saudi Arabia?

My father worked in banking, when I was a teenager he was appointed as a product director of a national bank in the Gulf.

I stayed in London to allow me to finish school then university. Once I graduated, I returned to do an internship at my dad’s bank. It was an eye opener.

I was twenty-two and full of mixture of innocence, adolescence and pent up repressed sexuality.

As a new arrival I received an induction of sorts. Things to do, things to avoid and things that would get you into deep, deep shit. More than drink, drugs, pornography and homosexuality we were told to stay away from the local girls. If you were caught with an Omani Girl you would go to jail, if her family didn’t kill you first.

We didn’t live in one the cool gulf states, no this wasn’t Dubai or Qatar this was Oman. There were very few other European expats there, and there were no girls my age who were looking to party.

So, I knuckled down and worked hard. I was placed on a team who were investigating a new product for the bank. The project director was stern Indian man, who took no shit. But we all worked hard and eventually we persevered; our project was a success.

Ketan our project manager threw us a celebratory party. My team consisted of eight Indian men, two Filipino accountants and me. Oh, and we had a token Omani, the bank had a policy that all work teams had to have Omani support. Our assigned local was a recent law graduate.

She worked in a different office from us, I had some dealings with her over email, but we had never met. There was a resentment among the team that the highest paid member was not Ketan, but the law grad who never seemed to do any work.

To say the celebration was a wash out would be an understatement. Indian expats tend to stick to other Indian expats. Don’t get me wrong, at first, they were very welcoming and friendly, there was some joking at the start but before long they were all gossiping in Hindi. I felt quite excluded. After about the third glass of cheap bubbling wine I decided that I had had quite enough.

I made my excuses and headed for the door. As I was leaving a tall Arab lady in a black Abaya was arriving. It was quite dark so I couldn’t really get a look at her.

“Leaving already?” she asked me.

“Nora?” I questioned surprised that our Omani Lawyer was coming to the party. She nodded and asked

“Am I to assume that its not to your taste?” As if on queue the Indian party goers had realised that the white guy had left so the Bollywood music was turned up and they began to phone their friends to join them at the free party. I raised an eyebrow and said, “No, not quite.” she laughed a lovely refined but natural laugh.

“Unfortunately, I have to make an appearance. I would like it if you stayed.” How could I resist.

We went back into the party, and the seduction began. Although I am not completely sure who charmed who, I like to think that it was I who beguiled her knickers off, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that it was her who captivated me.

A few hours later we had made our way back to a massive Villa on the outskirts of Muscat. It was huge, at least ten or twelve bedrooms. We entered through the staff entrance and made our way straight to her room. It was more like a suite than a room. In the light of her private lounge I finally got a look at her. She was wearing a full black Abaya, with a black head scarf. As her skirts danced as she walked they revealed a pair of white stiletto heels. Her eyes we lined in dark eyeliner as is the fashion for locals and her lips were painted red. It was hard to judge her figure through her loosely fitted clothing, I was guessing that she was slim, with big hips and she was fairly large chested.

Noora sat facing me and we chatted some more mostly about inconsequential matters, the weather, the tv, movies we had seen.

Out of nowhere she asked, “Are you circumcised?” I was staggered by this question. Stammering around a bit I struggled to find an answer.

She helped me by adding, “Its just I have never had an uncut cock, I wanted to try one before I get married.”

Her attempted assistance didn’t help. I couldn’t speak. I wasn’t in anyway attractive. I was skinny, not very tall, I had uncontrollable bomonti escort blonde shoulder length hair, and at that time I was still pocked in acne. My mind was racing, based on what I could see of Noora she was beautiful. There was no way that someone like her would risk the fall out of getting caught with someone like me.

Then she got on all fours and crawled toward me. Her big dark eyes never left mine. She arrived between my legs and opened the zipper of my jeans. I was mesmerised. Was this a dream, did I fall and hit my head? Then her hand was inside my fly roughly pulling my turgid cock from my boxers and into the mechanically cooled air.

She giggled ecstatically. Cooing to my hardening member in Arabic. Thankfully I am not circumcised. In seconds, she took my dick into her mouth and sucked for all she was worth.

What a scene to gaze down upon. Nora was staring up into my eyes, her face framed by her black head scarf, her red painted lips and her French manicured fingers wrapped around my white cock. Oh my god this was hot.

It was not going to take long before I spilled my seed. I had been briefed on the proper way to address locals – things like not offering your hand to a local woman unless she offers you hers first and how properly to address a local.

My induction to local culture didn’t cover this situation, and I really didn’t know the proper etiquette?

Should I cum in her mouth or would it be in polite not warn her first.

So, with a sense of urgency asked her. “Can I cum in your mouth?” I misjudged the timing of my question. She didn’t have time to answer.

In fairness to her she took the first load in her mouth and did her best to swallow. But it had been quite some time since I last emptied my balls, so there was quite a lot of it. The second stream splattered across her cheek and nose, the third along the inside of her head scarf the rest spurted down her dress, where I assumed her tits were.

Covered in my cream, she looked up at me and gave me a rather cheeky smile. Then rather innocently began to play with my softening cock, she was not trying to arouse me for round two, she was satisfying her curiosity. Pulling my foreskin back exposing my sensitive bell end then letting go and revelling in the speed at which it slipped back to cover me up.

When the novelty wore off, she stood up and removed her black Abaya revealing what she had been wearing, blue skinny jeans with holes in the knees, a white t-shirt with a plunging neckline and those white stilettos.

Part two

The post orgasmic bliss was fading now. The woman who had just blown my mind, and my cock was losing patience in waiting for me to come back around.

Her face was still plastered in my spilled seed, her make up was beginning to fade. Her mascara and eyeliner were smudged by my ejaculate.

But she was beautiful. Well out of my league, that’s for sure. But here I was, panting for breath in my post blow job cum down. My cock was hanging out of my fly. Noora stood up and proceeded to remove the cum coated head scarf, it was the first time I saw her hair, it was jet black and cut in a shoulder length bob style. I wondered to myself if this was in trend with local girls?

She used the black material of her scarf to clean my ejaculate from her pretty face. Then she disrobed. Under the black skirts of her abaya she was wearing skin-tight stone wash coloured jeans that clung to the curves of her legs and hips. Her top was a simple white t-shirt, that had a neckline that plunged down into her ample cleavage.

And white three-inch stiletto heeled shoes. I spent a lot of time in Essex and my favourite look is the Essex girl look. I was developing quite a fascination for shoe porn, especially for toe cleavage in white leather stilettos. Such as Noora was sporting.

I stood up and gingerly stepped toward her. She had recently sucked me dry, but I didn’t know if I was permitted to take any further action. I was still horny, and I so wanted to fuck this sexy woman.

She had her back to me, so I wrapped my arms around her and nuzzled into her neck. She answered with a soft moan and she pushed her lovely ass back into my exposed cock. My hands wandered. I explored her chest; her breasts were firm and well proportioned. I easily slipped my egger hands into her top and soon I was massaging the flesh of her bosoms and teasing her hardening nipples.

My other hand had slightly more difficulty finding its target. It was almost like those jeans were painted on. Try as I might I couldn’t slip into her waist band, I needed have worried. Noora helped and opened the button and fly of the denim. My hand delved deeper into the depths of her crotch.

White cotton panties, then I found her bush. I played for a second in her unkempt lady garden before venturing toward the hotness of her pussy.

My index finger slipped between the folds of her lips and gently touched her sensitive clit. Her legs cihangir escort almost immediately buckled, and we nearly collapsed to the floor. Steadying ourselves I kept the pressure on her little nuben. She was whispering something in Arabic, as I ground my cock (which was returning to life again) into the denim covering her bottom.

But every time I tried to penetrate her pussy, she stopped me. Undeterred I kept playing with her little clit, massaging her boobs, kissing and sucking on her slender neck and ear lobes.

Who said that men couldn’t multitask?

Her breathing was deep, she was no longer whispering. Every flick of my index finger was bringing her closer and closer.

She tugged my hand out of her jeans and turned me around.

“You must eat me, Now!” she demanded, I pushed her onto the sofa where I had been on the receiving end of such a wonderful blow job only minutes before. I awkwardly struggled with her skin-tight jeans, with her help and some acrobatics we peeled the denim from her slender dark-skinned legs.

To my dismay her lovely heels fell off also.

She crossed her legs before I could dive in. “No Fingers, tongue only.” I could live with that, and so she spread her legs revealing her beautiful pussy. The tuft of long black curly hair sat atop her luscious lips.

I sucked in her engorged clitoris and flicked it for all I was worth. I gave it such a tongue lashing. I looked up from her pussy as her well-toned tummy muscles spasmed in delight. Her orgasm was close. I drew it closer.

I am not sure if she was seeking her revenge for my spunking over her face or if she genuinely didn’t know it was cumming, but she gasped out loud, in Arabic. I assume she said, “I am cumming!”

Her first squirt of ejaculate poured into my waiting mouth, the tangy taste not too unpleasant. The second and third squirts ensured that I was equally as covered in her juice as she was my own. By the time she was finished I was drenched.

I gave her a few additional laps of my tongue as her orgasm washed away.

I sat between her legs considering my options. I was so horny now. She gazed into my eyes and said, “Are you going to fuck me?”

I didn’t need to be asked twice, I knelt up and aimed my hard cock at her soaking wet pussy. I was milometers away from my prize when she stopped me.

“Not there.” I must have looked as confused as I felt.

“My pussy is for my husband!”

“You’re Married?”

“No but when I am married my husband will take my virginity.” I honestly thought that she was making fun of my naivety.

“How will he know?”

“My Uncle will check for blood on my wedding night. My family will be disgraced if I am not a virgin.”

“Oh.” I was disappointed

“My pussy is for my husband; my asshole is for my lover.” That picked me right up!

Part Three

I was still fully clothed in a grey cheap high street suit, and black shirt. My erect penis poking out of the fly of my trousers. The teeth of the zipper cruelly nibbled at the sensitive flesh on the underside of my dick and pulled at my pubic hairs. She on the other hand was naked from the waist down, her sizable breasts hung out over the fabric of her white t-shirt.

We were both drenched, she in a mixture of my cum and perspiration, the air conditioner was struggling with the forty degree heat of the Omani capitol city making the room feel like an oven and smell like a brothel. The cheap material of my suit had absorbed the mix of her cum and piss as she came over me only seconds ago.

My cock was aching for its prize, pointing directly for the tight little pussy only inches away, which was glistening in moisture. It seemed that her lady parts yarned to me taken by me.

But it wasn’t to be.

My lover was saving herself for marriage. Her uncle a respected cleric in the city would check the bed clothes on her wedding night for proof of her purity. Thus, I was not permitted to enter this exquisite vagina.

She offered up an alternative, “My pussy is for my husband; my asshole is for my lover.”

The only thing harder than my penis where my lips as her comment brought on a smug grin from right ear to the left. I have always enjoyed anal coupling, I am not the most handsomely endowed fellow in the world and so the snugness of an asshole is most fulfilling.

There wasn’t much need for lubrication. Much of the moisture that she had ejaculated covered my shirt, however a considerable volume was now pooling on the leather couch between her legs.

I reached forth and gently yet eagerly stroked the flesh between her legs. Although a slender woman, she was well proportioned where it mattered. Each cheek of flesh was more than a handful, but somehow the skin was taught and the flesh underneath it was firm. I was going to enjoy this I thought as my index finger made it way to her behind.

She adjusted her position allowing me an unfettered access to her nether regions. kurtuluş escort With the moisture my finger easily pushed passed the puckered lips of her bottom, followed soon after by another, and then a third. Before long I was able to slide my digits in and out of her asshole as if they were coated in oil.

It was time.

I removed my fingers from her and wrapped them around my cock and coated it with some of the moisture from her ass, I added some spittle with that I lined up to take my prize.

I edged closer, the tip touched her naked flesh for the first time. It sent a shutter up and down my spine. She reached down and guided me closer to my target. I instantly felt the tightness build around the tip of my member. It was uncomfortable for a number of heartbeats, but as I pushed deeper within. The excruciating tightness slipped down my shaft and became exquisite.

I looked at her for the first time since I entered her. She had placed her palms on my thighs, in a non-verbal request for me to stop. So, I rested half in, half out of her beautiful ass.

I know I must have been imagining it, but I swore if I was so inclined I could measure her blood pressure as her insides pulsated around my dick.

Her long slender legs wrapped tightly around my waist and she signalled that she was ready by tightening her grip and pulling me closer. With a gasp, I was home. I was fully inside this beautiful Arab woman’s asshole.

There I paused once again, giving her time to grow accustomed to my presence. My grin had yet to leave my face, and as I gazed into her big brown eyes, she met my smile with her own.

I started to withdraw, the just as I reached the end of my cock, I pushed back inside I built up a slow but steady rhythm. She reached down and began to tease her clit.

It did not take long before we were both increasing our pace. We were rapidly reaching a crescendo, she gasped, “If you cum before I do, I am going to fuck your ass with my shoe.”

I have a white stiletto fetish. Her white stilettos lay discarded on the floor.

I came hard.

I came deep inside her ass

I came a lot.

Most pressingly I came first!

Part four

I had emptied my balls twice now inside an hour, a dull ach built up in my nether regions. The recipient was a beautiful Omani lady. My first load shot across her face ruining her make-up and almost blinding her. The second load I had just shot deep in her asshole.

In my defence, my lover had also achieved two orgasms in the same space of time, and she was a squirter. I was still wearing my shirt and trousers they were drenched in our orgasmic fluids.

However, I almost robbed her of her second climax by coming first and rapidly deflated in her sumptuous arse as she frantically played with her clit. Trying desperately to climax before I slipped out of her.

She wasn’t happy with my premature end. Threatening me with an anal intrusion with her shoes.

Full disclosure, I am a closet crossdresser, with a high heel shoe fetish! Her threat alone was enough to bring on my orgasm. I watched as she induced her orgasm, her thighs still wrapped around my waist, holding me in place. Her manicured fingers rubbed frantically at her engorged clit. This sight alone should have been enough to stir me on for a third round. But I was spent.

Not long after I came, her own orgasm built up within her. It washed over her like a spring tide, I first saw the approaching climax as the building frustration gave way to the glint of realisation in her eyes, she knew it was coming. Her breathing grew shallower yet faster, and as the muscle mass in the tight abdomen began to clench and relax. I felt the sphincter muscles still hanging onto my soft member tighten around me. Gripping tight. Then I felt the gentle flow of her ejaculatant spray over my lap, and up my torso.

I had been party to girls cumming many times (Ok not that many) but at the time of their orgasm I was usually too busy trying not to cum myself that I never actually witnessed it occurring. This was awe inspiring.

After a few moments she had calmed down again. Her eyes opened for the first time since I came inside her. She smirked a devious smirk.

“You came first.” I was still in wonderment at the most beautiful scene I had ever witnessed. So, I nodded.

“Do you want me to play with your asshole?” she asked

Embarrassed I managed, “Sorry.”

“You came the second I mentioned that I would rape your ass with my shoe. Perhaps you would like me to do that.” Wide eyed, I couldn’t speak.

“Its ok if you’re a faggot. My Brother is a Faggot. It’s pretty sexy watching two men fuck.”

“Im not gay.”

“Im not judging. Your semen is in my asshole. I want to please you in the way that you please me. Please take off your cloths.” She opened her legs and released her grip around my waist. Gingerly I rose and began to unbutton my shirt. Followed by my suit trousers, boxers and socks.

Its odd the feeling of insecurity standing bollcok naked in front of a gorgeous woman who moments earlier requested that I fucked her in the ass. Especially knowing what she was going to do next.

She stood and removed what was left of her own clothing, her white blouse and her white bra. God she was a sight to behold.

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