The Persian Girl

by Felix Baron

  Maria and Fatima turned to Asp. Maria asked, ‘Is that why you are named for a snake, apart from your lovely tattoo?’

  Asp looked at the floor.

  ‘Show us!’ Fatima demanded. ‘Show us your back-bend.’

  ‘One entertainment for each night,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow will be Asp’s turn.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘I told you a story. Maria sung for us. Fatima danced. It’s only fair, tomorrow, you perform.’

  When we settled for the night, I gave them freedom to choose their positions. I ended up with Maria’s back to me, and Asp between her and Fatima. I didn’t detect much movement. Perhaps my little minxes were saving themselves.

  At breakfast, both Maria and Fatima made dumb-shows, teasing Asp about her coming performance. She took it in good part and seemed, to me, to be hugging a delicious secret to herself. When she settled for the day’s heat, she still draped herself with a sheet, but carelessly, with one slender leg and svelte hip left partly uncovered. I wondered if it was truly a lack of care, or was it perhaps by artifice? Women have that instinct – to tease and flirt – even though many of them would deny it.

  It was with some anticipation that I looked forward to the evening’s period of moderate temperature. Once our supper was done, Maria and Fatima started coaxing Asp. Asp, coy as a novitiate nun making her confession to a handsome young priest, at first declined.

  Maria sat hip to hip with Asp and put an arm around her. ‘We’re really looking forward to watching you, sweet serpent.’

  I translated, as I did everything they said. It was a chore but we weren’t pressed for time.

  ‘I have no costume,’ Asp hedged.

  Fatima asked, ‘Did you always perform in a costume?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Sometimes you performed bare, as bare as we three are now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ve seen me and Fatima and English, all of us, stark naked. Please don’t be shy, little Asp,’ Maria wheedled, caressing Asp’s neck.

  ‘It is more than “bare”,’ Asp murmured.

  ‘More than bare?’ Fatima asked. ‘You shed your skin, like a true snake?’

  Asp tittered. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then?’

  ‘When I perform, I … It’s difficult to explain.’

  I said, ‘Then show us.’

  Fatima sat to Asp’s other side and insinuated a crafty hand under her sheet. ‘I do like your snake, Asp. Can you make it wriggle?’

  Asp grinned. ‘Perhaps.’

  Maria added, ‘If your snake dances prettily for us, I’d be happy to feed it.’

  ‘The Englishman is better equipped for that,’ Fatima observed dryly. Her hand, under Asp’s sheet, bunched over the girl’s diminutive left breast. ‘If someone pinches your snake’s tail, does she poke her tongue out?’

  ‘You’re teasing me!’

  ‘And they’ll continue to tease you until you satisfy their curiosity,’ I warned.

  ‘Very well!’ Asp took a deep breath and stood up. Her sheet fell to her feet. Now that the shock of her being so ‘different’ had passed, I saw her for what she was, a sleek and lovely young woman, erotically sensuous, but in a way I’d never seen before. Her lack of bosom or shapely hips didn’t detract from her appearance. Rather, instead of being a woman whose sexuality was more evident in her feminine parts, she was sexual in her entire body.

  Fatima reached out and ran a finger down Asp’s spine. Asp shivered but stepped further away, isolating herself the way a solo performer has to.

  ‘This is what I do,’ she announced, not without pride. ‘This is what I am.’

  She took a stance, feet planted firmly and spread wide apart. I silently cursed the dim illumination. Her tattooed cunny was shaded. I was curious to see if those jaws would move.

  Asp began to bend. Her knees went forward, as Fatima’s had. Her head tilted back, as Fatima’s had. The muscles in her thighs tensed, just like Fatima’s. Asp had no tresses to brush across her bottom but her head dropped low enough that had she had hair, it would have.

  And she kept bending. The bones in her hips formed sharp angles. The cage of her ribs spread like fans and beneath them, her abdomen hollowed. Her knees bent further. Her body arched more dramatically. Asp’s naked skull appeared, between the spread of her thighs – and still she bent.

  Asp grinned at us, with the back of her neck pressed up against her cunny, her head shielding her mound.

  ‘What say you, English?’ Fatima joked. ‘Everything you want, bouche, con and cul, all lined up ready for you.’

  I ought to have reprimanded her for her crudeness, but I confess, she was only giving voice to my own thoughts.

  Maria stamped her bare feet and cried, ‘Bis!’ I think she was asking Asp for some further contortion rather than a repeat of the one we were witnessing.

  Asp writhed to the upright position and gave us a quizzical look, as if to question whether we were ready for an even more extreme display of her talent.

  I called, ‘Please continue, Asp. You have us enchanted with your skill.’

  ‘Yes, go on,’ Fatima encouraged.

  Asp nodded acquiescence. Her left leg bent at the knee, sliding her foot up her right calf. When it passed her right knee, she pointed it straight out to her left but kept lifting it. Her weight shifted a little, for balance, but otherwise her body was still. Up and up rose her foot, to the height of her shoulders, her chin, the top of her head and beyond, until it pointed straight up at the ceiling. Her two legs, split wide apart, formed a single vertical line, with her left knee tucked behind her shoulder.

  As one, Fatima and Maria crouched and went closer. I too was inquisitive about the inevitable distortion of Asp’s cunny but I deemed it more gentlemanly not to give way to my base curiosity. Fatima tested Asp’s slit with a finger but I couldn’t see clearly because her body blocked my view. I did see a reaction on Asp’s face, though.

  Fatima turned to me. ‘She’d be impossible for you to futter, in this position. Her passage is bent, inside. You’d get no deeper than this much.’ She held her finger and thumb three inches apart.

  Maria chuckled. ‘I wager English would enjoy the attempt, no?’

  I grinned but made no remark.

  Asp, with a remarkable show of acrobatic ability, hopped to sit on a bench. There she perched with her left leg still vertical until she folded it neatly behind her own neck.

  We three spectators ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’.

  She took hold of an iron ring. Once more she lifted a leg, her right one, and elevated it until it too crossed behind her neck.

  Maria crouched and stared. ‘¡Ay por dios, que almeta!’ As if compelled, she sank her face between Asp’s thighs.

  I was concerned that Asp, who we had been slowly coaxing from her timid shell, would recoil. How little I know of the fair sex! Her eyes closed. Her mouth softened. Somehow, she hitched herself closer to the edge of the bench. Even above the creaking of our trundling wheels, I could hear the wet sounds of Maria’s feasting.

  Fatima said, ‘And now we are as one, no, English? Trois maîtresses et un maître! What games we will play!’ She sat beside Asp and pulled her own legs up, to cuddle her dimpled knees. ‘Joue avec moi, Anglais! Lèche moi le clito!’

  I don’t believe I’ve ever refused a request to lick her clit from a lady. I certainly didn’t then. Side by side, Maria and I knelt and lapped. It wasn’t a contest, but she brought Asp to climax three times while I only drew two from Fatima. I put it down to Asp having been celibate for some time.

  The cold put an end to that little game. We retired to our pile of furs but I was in no mood to delay my own pleasure until the morrow. I was in something of a dilemma. Asp’s special talents had whetted my appetite for something erotically gymnastic. It would be a shame to futter her, the first time, in any mundane configuration. Four friendly bodies in one bed is fine for the more commonplace manoeuvres, but I had something more exotic in
mind. And yet, my staff was nagging me.

  I was still debating how to resolve my problem when Maria and Fatima, the last two into bed, entered head first, as it were, squirming down between Asp and me, so that we were paired head to tail. Maria’s mouth served me well. I trust she was equally pleased by mine and that Fatima and Asp reached their mutual satisfactions.

  Eventually, I slept, and dreamed of Asp’s contorted body and how it might best please me to use it.

  Twenty-two

  IT SEEMED IT hadn’t been just my imagination that Asp had inspired. Even at breakfast, a time we’d tacitly agreed was for teasing and flirtation but not for more intimate caresses, Fatima and Maria couldn’t keep their hands off Asp. If she’d had any lingering doubts about her own attractiveness, they were certainly being dispelled.

  They made a game of it. Maria, pretending that Asp’s seated legs were in her path, casually lifted one by its ankle until it was higher than her head. While it was so elevated, Fatima ‘accidentally’ dropped her spoon and in retrieving it just happened to press a kiss on the distorted lips of Asp’s cunny. Asp herself was not innocent. Bending to straighten our bed of furs, she held her legs stiff and spread. Before rising, she showed her skills off by tucking her head between her thighs and lifting it to kiss her own bottom.

  I was not excluded. As was my practice, once I’d finished my rice, I made my way to the rear of our carriage, ready to trot behind it for a while. On that day, as I passed between the girls, who were sitting two to one side and one to the other, Fatima just happened to lean forward, so that my wagging column dragged across her face. For perhaps half a second, my dome was caught between her lips. Tempted though I was to pause and thrust, I went on by. To everything there is a time, and dusk was the time I’d appointed for coupling.

  While I was trotting behind our carriage, we passed a family of wild Bactrian camels, a pair and a suckling calf, not three hundred yards away. Melku let off a shot at them. They ignored him, as he deserved.

  When we settled for our afternoon siesta, one of the girls was inspired to dampen a sheet for all three of them to lie beneath. I’m sure it provided coolth. As there was no room for a fourth, I settled on a bench, uncovered. Perhaps I should have reprimanded them for wasting water but I was loath to sound a discordant note. I was determined that my cock and Asp’s cunny were soon to become intimately acquainted. A friendly atmosphere would be more conducive to that end than a hostile one.

  The sun was red behind the horizon’s haze as we supped.

  When we were done eating, saucy Fatima giggled and asked me, ‘It is your turn to be the entertainer again, English. Do you have another tale for us, or …?’ She looked from Asp to me and back again.

  Maria was more direct. ‘English is going to futter our little Asp in positions we, Fatima, can only dream of. We will watch. That will be a fine entertainment, to my mind.’

  ‘Bien sur,’ Fatima agreed. ‘I am content to watch and learn, if you and I, my little salope …’ She turned to me, ‘How you say in English, English, “diddle each other”, while we watch?’

  I smiled. ‘I thought you didn’t speak English, Fatima?’

  ‘A little, perhaps. Just a few naughty words.’

  Asp stood up and looked at each of us in turn. Out of discretion, I’d not been translating this exchange for her. She’d caught Fatima’s brief foray into English, though.

  ‘What are they talking about?’ she asked me. ‘Who will “diddle” who?’

  ‘They suggest you and me, each other, and have asked if they might watch us,’ I replied, utilising an alternative meaning of ‘diddle’.

  ‘Oh.’ She turned her head aside, blushing. Her hand shielded her mound protectively.

  I rose and took her satiny head between my palms. My hands tilted her face to look up into my eyes and held her there for a long moment. It has been my experience that if you allow a woman to gaze into your eyes for any period of time, she will see in them whatever she wants to see.

  She blinked. I told her, ‘I’ve wanted you from the moment we uncovered your lovely face and exciting body, but while I am master here, no one does anything that they don’t want to do. If you can tell me, honestly, that you feel lust for me, then let us enjoy Eros’ blessings. If you do not care for me in that way, tell me now, and I will never approach you again.’ My words were coloured by our proximity. We were both naked and standing close enough that my erection bridged the gap, to nudge her just above her navel.

  She glanced down between us with a little smile. ‘Your sincerity is self-evident, Richard. Although mine is less obvious, I tell you in all candour, yes, I lust after you.’

  ‘You have no reservations?’

  ‘None.’

  Fatima started slow-clapping. Maria joined in and added, ‘English, that’s enough persuasion. In the name of all that’s holy, do her!’

  Women! There’s no romance in them.

  Asp went up on tiptoes with her lips pursed for a kiss. I’m somewhat tall. There was still a foot between our mouths. I put my hands around her hips and lifted her. Asp’s lips were thin and her mouth was wide but her tongue welcomed my invasion. She was sweet as the dew from honeysuckle. Her hands gripped my head as if she feared I’d pull away from her mouth. We nibbled at each other’s lips and suckled on each other’s tongues. Our kisses were as pure but passionate as a virgin bride and groom’s on their wedding night, except that Asp’s elevation enabled her to trap my shaft between her thighs and rub them on it.

  I raised her higher, trailing kisses and licks down her throat and across the slight swell of her breast until my mouth found the tail of her serpent, the resilient spike that was her left nipple. Again I suckled, drawing as much of her flesh into my mouth as I could.

  Asp moaned. She swayed between my hands. Her legs were parting, wider and wider, until her toes pointed horizontally in opposite directions. ‘Fuck me,’ she begged.

  Fatima and Maria cheered, so I presumed that ‘fuck’ was one English word that both were familiar with. They began to chant, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’

  Not to be contrary, but because it is my habit to deny a lady until she seems rabid with lust, I heaved Asp yet higher. At that elevation, she was able to grasp a cross-bar in our roof, which made holding her there less onerous. Also at that height, the sweetness of her cunny was inches from my mouth. The spread of her thighs had teased its lips apart. I extended my tongue and insinuated it between her swollen petals.

  At the first contact, Asp, the dear, tucked her tail in, lifting her cunny’s lips up to greet my mouth. I kissed her, little sucking kisses then deeper, probing ones, exploring the inside of her cunny as I had her mouth. She was sweet and lemony on my tongue but when I inhaled, I was reminded of a surfeit of orange blossom.

  Asp’s legs, still rigidly held out to each side, began to tremble. ‘Please, Richard, do not make me spend just yet. I might swoon, and I have yet to enjoy that special delight I have anticipated since the day we met – of being stabbed to the quick by your …’ Her words became a delighted squeal as the tip of my tongue gave the head of her clit two quick flicks. ‘Not yet, not yet,’ she gasped. ‘Hold me tight.’

  Her back began to curve away from me. Once more, her spine bent, folding her in half, backwards. I braced back and gripped her hips harder. Her legs bent at her knees so that although her thighs were still wide-spread, the soles of her feet gripped my head.

  She arched. Upside-down and as bent as a Persian bow, Asp set her hands on my thighs and closed her lips over the head of my cock.

  Fatima and Maria applauded.

  ‘Fuck her face!’ Maria urged me.

  I resisted my cock’s demands that I comply. Asp knew what she wanted from each of us. I am no mean cocks-man, but we were exploring exotic realms that she was more familiar with than I. It seemed wise to let her lead.

  She tongued and sucked and bobbed, familiarising herself with my dimensions, contours and flavours, but taking care not to stimulate m
e too far. Her hips tensed under my hands. Asp, effortlessly it seemed, writhed back up. Looking down on me, she asked, ‘Lower my cunny to your cock, Richard, and I will fuck you as no other woman has ever fucked you, or likely ever will.’

  I let her down slowly. She hooked her right foot behind my neck and let her left dangle. By the time my dome nudged into her wet heat, her limbs were extended in opposite directions once more, distorting her soft portal. I probed into her vestibule without meeting much resistance but beyond that, the passage I sought was warped to one side. I paused.

  ‘Force your way!’ she demanded.

  And so I did. My hands pressed down on her as my hips surged up. Where her sheath was bent, I straightened it.

  Asp gasped, ‘Yes!’ She looked into my eyes fiercely. ‘Now let me go and hold fast!’

  I have felt power surge through my veins. I felt it when I entered the Holy of Holies, in Mecca, disguised as a Muslim. Strength roared through me when I, on my own, repelled two score ferocious African warriors and put them to rout at the point of my sabre.

  Those feelings were as nothing compared to the puissance I felt when I did nothing but brace myself, standing still as a statue, and was fucked by Asp. The Hindus have the right of it. A man is never closer to divinity than when he is consumed by acts of lust.

  Her right foot held my neck. Her left braced upon my thigh. That part of her that was most woman gripped my shaft.

  Asp’s lips brushed my left nipple. She bent back, and down until her body and mine were at right-angles and then beyond, until she kissed my foot’s instep. The pressure her sheath inflicted on my down-bent shaft was an exquisite torment. Those subtle muscles convulsed and she was rising, up and up, until her mouth touched my chest again, paused for a heartbeat, and once more descended.

  She was incredibly strong in her legs and abdomen. Without use of her hands or arms, she went from head-down to head-up two dozen or more times. Asp’s skin became slick with sweat, both hers and mine.

  Maria and Fatima, although unable to take their eyes from Asp’s incredible exhibition, made free of each other’s bodies with their fingers. Their frantic mutual frigging seemed likely to take them to their climaxes long before Asp was done with her acrobatic contortions.