Chameleon

by Ashe Barker

  Said nodded. “I believe that. It is clear to me that she holds you in high regard. Is that the right phrase? You will appreciate English is not my natural tongue.”

  “I take your meaning, even so.”

  “Fleur is old enough to make her own choices now. She is wiser than once she was. I want her to be happy. I want this for all my children.”

  Ethan nodded. They seemed to be at an understanding. “Yours is an unusual family, if I may say so, Said.”

  The older man nodded. “I imagine it is. We have found a way to get along well enough together, though.”

  “Indeed. Fleur tells me she was brought up to be both Muslim and Christian. I had not thought that possible.”

  Said’s smile wryly. “I suspect it may not be. I would never ask any of my family to choose. We all find God by our own route, whatever name we call Him by. In truth, I fear my Fleur is a godless creature, despite her mother’s most fervent efforts. My daughter’s immortal soul remains a work in progress for Yvette, I think. For myself, I trust that she may find whatever she is seeking, be that God or some other source of fulfilment. We all need to have meaning in our lives. Would you not agree?”

  Ethan did agree, and said so. He couldn’t help thinking that if his own father had possessed the tolerance, wisdom and vision of Said Mansouri, and the ability to let go of old hurts, his own community in south Yorkshire might have been the richer for it.

  “I think that perhaps you need to be returning to your hotel. Not that I am not enjoying your company, of course. It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance this evening and I sincerely hope that we may meet again, perhaps when you are able to remain with us for longer…?”

  Said’s meaning was clear. Ethan smiled, inclining his head slowly. “You are right. I should be going. And yes, I hope we do have an opportunity to meet again. Thank you for your hospitality this evening, and please pass on my thanks to your lovely wife.”

  “Of course. I will telephone for a taxi for you.”

  “There’s no need…”

  “I would not hear of anything else. It will just take a few minutes. Please, have some more mint tea while I make the call.” Said pulled his mobile phone from his pocket. Ethan reached for the teapot.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Fleur sat in her car, the engine running. The drive back to The Totally Five Star would take her no more than a few minutes at this time of night when there was much less traffic about. She just had enough time to reread Ethan’s note, the one he’d given her as she’d left his suite earlier that day—his list of instructions for her. She knew it was vital that she get this right so it would be worth a final check. She retrieved the white envelope from her bag and pulled out the one sheet of paper inside.

  It was written on the thick, cream-colored hotel notepaper, the writing neat and precise. Like Ethan, she reflected. She read slowly.

  Fleur

  You will return to my suite and let yourself in. You have a staff passkey, I daresay, but if not, please inform me of this and I will arrange access for you. You may bring such items as you will require for an overnight stay. In addition, if you have any anti-inflammatory creams or lotions you might find those to be of use. No other pain relief will be permitted.

  Please bring the cloak you were wearing when I first met you in the Atlas foothills or, if that is not available, one that is similar.

  On arrival at my suite, you will undress and leave your clothing neatly folded and out of the way. You will not require it until you leave tomorrow. If you wish to take a shower, you may do so. Naked, you will then wrap yourself in the cloak. When I arrive, I expect to find you in the courtyard, kneeling, nude but for the cloak that will cover your head also. Your hands will be on your thighs, palms turned upwards. You may use a mat from inside the riad, if you wish.

  Please make sure you have plenty of water to drink prior to my arrival, but, of course, no alcohol.

  During our evening together, you will be allowed to speak only in response to a direct question, or to seek clarification on any instruction I may give. Of course, you may use a safe word at any time, and you will be free to leave at any time should you choose to. You will keep your eyes downcast unless specifically instructed otherwise. You will not touch me without permission, and you will obey any instruction I give you without delay or protest.

  If you have any questions or concerns, may I suggest you make a list of those and I will address them at the start of our scene.

  Ethan

  Curt and to the point, Ethan’s note was quite explicit. Accordingly, in her overnight bag on the back seat she’d stashed a change of clothing for tomorrow and the cloak he had specifically requested. She did have the one from their first meeting, now freshly laundered and free of the dust from the desert road, and she had carefully folded it at the bottom of her bag. She had packed some toiletries, though she knew the Totally Five Star would be able to cater admirably for any and all of her requirements. She packed no nightclothes. It seemed clear that these would be superfluous. The only other items she had with her were her toothbrush, a couple of tubes of non-steroid anti-inflammatory cream borrowed from her medical bag, her hairbrush, her purse, her glasses and her phone. And she had also brought with her an intricately hand-woven Berber carpet. It was about thirty inches in width and forty or so in length, and was neatly rolled on the back seat next to her bag.

  Content that she had overlooked nothing, she pulled out of the parking bay at the rear of Dar Roumana and headed for the hotel.

  Back at the Totally Five Star, Fleur made for the underground car parking area and pulled up in her own bay marked ‘Doctor’. She hoped that none of the security staff would consider it noteworthy that her car was here whilst she was ostensibly off duty, but that was a risk she would take. Fleur made her way quickly through the modern and well-lit corridors, happily encountering no one, and let herself into Ethan’s guest riad. She closed the door softly behind her and glanced around.

  It was clear that the maid service had been in since she had left soon after lunch. The cushions in the lounge area were all perfectly positioned, the flowers refreshed. She knew without looking that the minibar would be restocked, the towels fresh and fragrant, the toiletries replenished. Upstairs, Ethan’s bed would be expertly made up and sprinkled with petals or something equally sensuous. She imagined they might soon undo that bit of good housekeeping, though on reflection she was not entirely certain. Her previous experiences with Ethan had not made extensive use of the bedroom.

  She did not know how long he would remain with her family after she had left, and she had already devoted more than enough time to checking and re-checking her instructions. Whilst not afraid of Ethan—certainly not in the sense that she had feared Youssef’s temper—neither did she relish the prospect of starting this evening’s scene having failed to meet his expectations. She did not want him to punish her if she could avoid that so she was conscious of the need to hurry, to prepare herself for his arrival.

  Fleur stripped where she stood by the door. She folded her things neatly and placed them in a drawer in the lounge area. The cloak she left out on the ottoman where she had slept earlier that morning, ready for use later. She laid the carpet next to it, still neatly rolled up. She put her toothbrush in the bathroom off the main bedroom, casting a longing look at the huge bath as she passed. Ethan’s note had said she was welcome to shower, so perhaps he did not intend to return imminently. Might she have time to use the bath?

  She decided it was wiser not to indulge in a bath but she did turn on the shower jets and stepped quickly under the spray. Afterwards, she smoothed generous amounts of Totally Five Star body lotion into her skin, finding the aromatic citrus scents both erotic and invigorating. After showering and glancing at the clock, it shocked her to see that it was already close to ten in the evening. Certain that she did not have much more time before Ethan returned, Fleur tidied the bathroom after herself and hurried downstairs again. This time she d
raped the cloak around herself, careful to arrange it so it fully covered her body and her head. Through long years of practice, she was able to ensure that it would stay in place without undue fussing on her part. She knew instinctively that Ethan would not take kindly to a lot of shifting and rearranging of her clothing, such as it was.

  She picked up her carpet and walked purposefully out into the courtyard where she unrolled the rug and laid it on the mosaic tiling beside the central fountain. And there she knelt, to wait.

  Footsteps, faint but becoming clearer. Getting closer. Fleur’s breath hitched. She shifted one last time, intent on ensuring that she was flawlessly positioned. His first glance at her had to be perfect, or as much so as she was able. She thought she had obeyed his instructions to the letter. Now was to come the acid test.

  The lock clicked and the door opened. Fleur concentrated on not turning her head. It is him. It must be him. It has to be. The footsteps sounded like Ethan’s and she simply felt his presence fill the riad.

  The footsteps approached her from behind and still she did not turn. Her posture was just as directed, straight and motionless. She held that pose, her eyes downcast but her ears attuned to every minute sound. She breathed in deeply through her nose, was sure she could detect his unique essence, that woodsy blend of spice and fruit. His cologne? Or just him?

  The sound of footsteps became more muted. He had kicked off his shoes, in deference to local tradition, she supposed. But still she could hear him, the clink of a glass, the rattle of ice cubes. He was close by, behind her, saying nothing but watching. Seeing. Assessing.

  Evaluating.

  Fleur’s pussy clenched, the internal twist almost painful in her apprehension. Had she missed something, some detail? Had she been careless? She thought not, but still…

  “You look adorable.”

  Fleur let out her breath, only now realizing that she had been holding it. She was not sure if she should answer. His instructions were that she remain silent unless spoken to, unless asked a direct question. He had spoken to her, though not a question. Nevertheless, she opted to reply.

  “Thank you, Sir.” She kept her tone low, her eyes fixed on a point a few inches in front of her knees.

  Footsteps, then Ethan came into view. Or his feet did. Bare, as she had surmised. They now provided the focus for her gaze. He had nice feet, Fleur thought, long and straight, tanned, as though he kicked off his shoes often. They stopped right in front of her. She sensed his gaze on the top of her bent head but knew the cloak concealed her entirely. She also knew that he was perfectly aware that she was naked beneath it and what her nude body would look like, feel like. Taste like. He had sampled her extensively already so she should have no surprises left for him.

  “You have obeyed my instructions?”

  “I have, Sir. I hope I have done correctly all that you have asked.”

  “At first sight, I think you have. How did it feel, Fleur, to obey me, even though I wasn’t here?”

  “It made no difference, Sir. I did as you told me, exactly as you instructed.”

  “And if you had found yourself unable to complete any part of my requirements? What if you hadn’t had a cloak to hand? What if your knees had become stiff from the hard floor?”

  Still she stared at his feet. “I do not understand, Sir. Your instructions were clear—this cloak or one similar. And to kneel until you arrive. Why would I do otherwise?”

  “Look at me, Fleur.”

  She tilted her head back to raise her eyes to meet his. Warmth resided there, approval. And lust, she was sure, though his expression gave nothing away. He didn’t smile, but neither did he scowl. He could intimidate her, and his very presence, their relative positions—she on her knees and he towering over her—all conspired to emphasize her submission to him. But he did not exploit that now. Instead, he quirked his lip in the faintest of smiles.

  “Do you have any questions or comments before we begin? You will have limited opportunities to ask them later.”

  Fleur thought about this for a moment. “Do you intend to gag me then, Sir?”

  “No, probably not. Unless I think your screams are likely to bring the hotel staff running to your rescue but I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”

  “I see, Sir. So why…?”

  “I won’t allow you to speak without my express permission. You may well scream and certainly, I expect a few whimpers, gasps, moans. Those I take as read. But I’ll be doing the talking, not you. So if there is anything you need to ask me or tell me, do it now, please.”

  Fleur thought for a moment, then, “Will you tell me what is going to happen? What you intend to do? What I need to do?”

  “Not up front, but I will explain everything as we go along. You won’t need to do anything apart from obey me.”

  This was not exactly the response Fleur had hoped for, though it was what she had been expecting. She knew she would take the passive role here, that she would not get to direct their play, but there was one thing she particularly hoped for. If she were to request it, she realized it must be now.

  “Please, I would like to start by sucking your cock, Sir. I want to swallow your semen. If that would not undermine your other plans for me, of course…”

  “I see. Topping from the bottom already, little Fleur. I don’t usually take requests.”

  Fleur dropped her eyes to study his feet once more, unaccountably disappointed. “No, Sir. I should not have asked. Forgive me.”

  Ethan reached for her chin, tipping her head back up with his fingers. “I asked you to look at me, Fleur. Don’t look away until I tell you to. I didn’t refuse your request and I had planned to fuck your gorgeous mouth later. I have no objection to bringing that forward. Do you have any other questions for me? Anything worrying you? Anything else you’d like me to do? Or not do? I may not agree to all your requests, but if I know that something bothers you or especially interests you. I will take that into account.”

  “I… No, Sir. I am happy to do as you think best.”

  “That’s good. Have you had something to drink?”

  “I have, Sir. You instructed that I should.”

  “If you want more water at any time, please ask me. If you need me to stop, to slow down, use your safe words—nothing else will help you. That’s it. So, is everything clear?”

  As much as it is going to be. “Yes, Sir. Perfectly.”

  “Then, you may start when you’re ready.”

  Ethan released his grip on her chin. He unbuttoned his cotton shirt and slid it from his shoulders to drop it onto the tiled floor. He then placed his palms on each side of her head, on top of the cloak covering her hair. He made no move to undo his trousers. A few moments passed before Fleur realized that this was clearly her task, her part in the proceedings.

  “May I, Sir?” She reached tentatively for his waistband, her eyes fixed on his.

  “Please do.” He stood perfectly still, gazing down at her. He made no move, did not seem to intend to sit. His height meant that she would have to strain upwards to properly take his cock in her mouth, but that did seem to be his intention. So be it.

  Fleur slipped one hand from beneath her enveloping cloak. She released the button on his waistband and drew down the zip. The fabric parted to reveal dark blue boxer shorts made of some shiny, soft fabric. Possibly silk. He seemed a silk sort of man, she decided, smooth and sensuous. And for tonight, he was hers. Or perhaps more properly, she was his.

  Or perhaps it made no difference at all.

  Using both hands now, Fleur tugged on the elastic waistband to draw it down and release his cock. She looked up at it, solid, thick and jutting toward her forehead. It had an arrogance about it, a sense of certainty. She found it impossible to disassociate the cock from the man and perhaps that was pointless in any case. Both were powerful, both exuded strength. Both brought her to her knees. Exactly where she wanted to be.

  Shuffling forward slightly on the narrow rectangle of carpet, Fle
ur cupped Ethan’s balls in one hand whilst she wrapped the other around his broad shaft. She drew her hand up his length, observing the droplets of clear fluid already emerging from the slit. Her medical training would dub this the stagola, though she imagined he would be able to supply an earthier name for it. No matter, she was not kneeling at his feet in any sort of medical capacity. Lifting her hips a little and stretching her body, she leaned forward to lick the slick beads of moisture from the head of Ethan’s cock. She licked her lips straight after, noting the slight saltiness. Every man’s semen tasted different. She knew that, though her direct experience was not extensive. Ethan’s tasted delicious, so she leaned in for another sample. This time she used the flat of her tongue, lapping across the whole of the smooth, pink surface of the glans.

  Ethan tightened his hands around her head, his fingertips pressing against her skull. She took that to be a sign that all was going well and leaned in farther to take the entire head of his cock between her lips. She had to open her mouth wide, swallowing franticly at the unfamiliar sensation as her mouth was full of him. Still the only movement from Ethan was his hands, now defining small circles in her scalp above each of her ears. He made no sound.

  Fleur drew her lips back along the head, almost expelling Ethan’s dick from her mouth entirely. She waited a few seconds, the tip of his cock resting between her lips, then she leaned forward to drag it inside. She took more of his length this time and was gratified at the way his cock distinctly twitched as he sank into her. Encouraged, she did that again, and once more for good measure. Each time she drew all of the head and more of the shaft in, her hands holding him steady whilst she moved her head and neck up and down. Soon the muscles in her neck started to ache, but she continued, loving the salty taste flowing over her tongue. She swallowed hard and the taste filled her throat too.

  Reaching the limit that she could manage with her mouth, she used her hand around his shaft to pump him, increasing the pressure as he jerked sharply under her ministrations. She used the hand cupping his balls to massage him, tentatively at first but gathering confidence as Ethan’s labored breathing made his approval clear.