Page 51 of Tarek

“Not for me Penelope,” He winks. The room darkens, the music starts, and the sound of a guitar begins to strum in the air. Then the heavy thumping of drums. A woman dressed in plain cotton underwear graces the stage; her movements are deliberate, graceful. Her presence commands the attention of all the onlookers. Behind her on their hands and knees two men crawl after her.

Tarek knuckles draw slow circles on my thigh, and my body feels alive with each revolution.

The dancer, plies her knees bending outward while her back remains straight. Slowly she bends and licks the face of one of the men. With each step she takes, her movements tell a story of lust and a dark wanting, flowing seamlessly and evoking dark deep emotions. The beauty and the precision of the dance captivates me.

“It’s called La Danse de Trios,” Tarek says near my ear, the heat from his mouth spreads through my body.

“The dance of three?” I ask as one of the male dancers peals away the bra of the female dancer.

“Correct. See how he is in awe of her, the way his hands slowly caress the side of her breast, down to her legs,” Tarek says. His thumb creates smalls circles in the inner parts of my thigh.

“Take this fucking jacket off,” he whispers and nibbles the lobes of my ear. “Now.”

It’s like my body has a mind of its own. I sit up allowing him to drag the jacket off my body. Slowly I lean back into Tarek’s chest, his scent encloses around me, captivating my senses. He smells like a rich and smoky scent of what must be oud wood, with a hint of clean sweat. The combination is intoxicating creating an aura of raw sex appeal.

“See how the tables have turned on her,” Tarek says as I watch the woman being pushed back unto her bed. One of the men, places her head in his lap, the other spread her legs wider as he kisses from her neck to the inner part of her thighs.

Warm fingers begin to make light circles around my nipples. The fabric of my jumpsuit presses lightly from the pressure from Tarek fingers.

I swallow slowly as the female dancer arches off the bed.

“Do you think that he is licking her slowly, or is he holding onto the clit and sucking it? Making her want, making her need.” Tarek presses his nose to the side of my neck, and he inhales. “Fucking delicious.”

Instinctively, my legs close and I place my hand between them.

A devious chuckle erupts just behind my ear. “Move your hands, Penelope.”

My breath hitches, as Tarek’s one leg beneath mine, forcing them wide. Now my thighs are over his, and my back is flushed against his chest.

“Tarek?” My voice trembles.

“Hold still, Pen.” His lips skim the curve of my ear; his voice is thick and ragged. “Let me take care of you.”

His hand drifts down, his fingertips trace my thighs “Relax for me.”

Sir? Relax? My body is on fire. The subtle traces of his fingertips, the way he is breathing behind my ear. And there is a thick, undeniable press of his cock grinding into the crease of my ass. I roll my hips, slow and deliberate, enjoying the feel of the hard length of him.

He chuckles dark and low. “Treasure, you know better than to tease me.” Tarek’s teeth catch my earlobe, biting down just hard enough to make my pussy clench.

I push back harder pressing my ass firmly on his dick. “Promise?”

His hands snap up, yanking the top of my jumpsuit. In one swift pull, he drags it down, taking my strapless bra with it. My breasts spills free, my nipples feel tight almost aching for his touch. I scramble to cover myself, my arms crossing over my chest.

“The fuck. Tarek we are in public.” I sit up, trying to bring my top back on.

“No one can see us.” He grips my wrist firmly “Sit back, and move your hands,”

My head swivels to the side. Through the sheer black curtains, I can see shadows moving, maybe a small shift of a body but nothing was clear.

The performers on the stage are in full throes of sex. The woman begins to ride one of the men hard, her hand pressing down on his chest. While the other man fists her hair, feeding his cock to her mouth.

Tarek’s hands slide up beneath my breast, lifting, squeezing. Rolling my nipples between his fingers until my back arches.

“Fuck.” His voice is strained, almost sounding like a growl “You are such a gift, my treasure. Look how your breasts overflow in my hands.”

He grips my breasts kneading them as he leans in, his breathing ragged. His fingers find my nipples, tugging, twisting drawing out my pleasure with every moment.

The more he pulls, the harder I fight it, biting back the moan rising in my throat.

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