The Adventures of Major Lewis: In the Sheikh's Harem

Sheikh Al Ramana was a fat and ugly man, but I did not hold that against him. He had provided my lads with food and water and a place to sleep for the night. Evidently the fine people of Bir Hadrel detested the Nazis as much as we British did. While my rats were in the courtyard, working on their lorries and scout cars, I was invited into the sheikh’s palace with its arches and its sand-worn onion dome. The last prayer of the day had been called and the sheikh’s men had retired inside for supper. I would have stayed beneath the stars with my lads, but as the ranking officer present of the British 7th Armoured Division, it was my duty to attend dinner with the sheikh. 

The meal was fabulous, as were the harem dancers who sauntered out with swinging hips and bare bellies. Their lovely eyes watched me from beneath their veils and I admit that I could not keep my mind on the roasted lamb upon my plate. There was one dancer I found particularly lovely, with a slender waist, but hips that invited fantasies, and breasts that nearly burst from her jeweled bodice. Her eyes were honey-colored and rimmed with kohl, her hair fell down past her shoulders in waves of loose, black curls, and her skin was as smooth and beautiful as a golden idol.

After dinner, we drank tea and had baklava. My translator, Aziz, informed me that the sheikh wished for me to visit his harem. Of course, I found the idea disturbing. I knew that many sheikhs kept harems with women scarcely better than slaves, but I could not condone such a thing. I told Aziz as much and he warned me, “He will take great offense if you refuse.” 

As a married man, I thought of sending Aziz or one of my officers in my stead, but neither choice seemed suitable. It was with a heavy heart that I agreed. I hoped that I would be able to convince the women of the harem that I was only interested in conversation. 

The tea was finished and the service cleared by the servants. Sheikh Al Ramana grunted and hefted himself up, his portly belly jiggling beneath his white robes. We left the dining room and descended beneath the palace to a cool, torchlit chamber thick with the spicy aroma of incense. Through the veiled archways I saw women lounged upon silk pillows and talked softly in conversation. A rather plump woman played a harp-like instrument and two others beauties danced upon a fabulous carpet that depicted scenes as lewd as those of the Kama Sutra of India. 

The sheikh gestured to his lounging harem girls and spoke to Aziz. My translator relayed, “Sheikh Al Ramana wishes you to choose a girl. She will give you the utmost pleasure for the entire night. And you will forget your troubles.”

As I surveyed the women of every shape and description, I begged my beloved Elizabeth, sweet and delicate and well-mannered back in London, for her forgiveness. I was about to choose a homely girl with a scar upon her face, when my eyes met those honey-colored eyes of the dancer that bewitched me during supper. Her smooth curves and long legs seemed to shine in the torchlight and her bust, if anything, seemed to have become more ample. Beneath the veil that hung over her mouth I could just make out her smile.

“I must choose her,” I said and indicated the dancing girl. Sheikh Al Ramana laughed and I did not need Aziz to translate that the sheikh found my choice pleasing. He beckoned her forth and she approached us with the same hip-wiggling she demonstrated at supper. Her jeweled loincloth swung over her gleaming thighs. She took my hands in hers and the sheikh introduced her. 

Aziz translated, “This is Khadija. The sheikh bought her for his harem for twenty camels. It is the most he has ever paid.”

“Hello, Khadija,” I said and bowed my head.

Aziz translated the sheikh once more, “She will take very good care of you, Major Lewis. She will give you all of the pleasure.”

“All of it?” I chuckled and raised an eyebrow as Khadija pulled me into the harem. I was thankful when she walked me past the other girls and to an almost private room piled with cushions and with an archway covered with multiple curtains of silk. 

“Do you speak any English?” I asked her and she looked at me with her golden eyes as she took off her veil. Her nose was unusually delicate for an Arab and her chin elfin. Her lips were full and she smiled sweetly. When she did not speak, I concluded, “No English then."

I waved my hands in a refusing gesture and said, "I do not want sex. Please. No sex."

Khadija continued to smile sweetly as she reached behind her back and freed the bindings of her bodice. The jeweled cops fell into her hands and she revealed her naked breasts to me. They were quite ample given her slender frame and sported slightly domed areolas a darker shade of tan and rather small nipples. 

"My heavens," I murmured, entranced by the sight of her lovely mounds as she squeezed them and played with her nipples between thumbs and fingers. Khadija was not done revealing her secrets. She untied hear loincloth and the heaving drape of golden chains fell from her thighs. She thrust her hips forward and revealed the furry mound of her quim with its tan folds and glistening pink inner sanctum. She crawled onto the cushions with me and I, again, tried my damnedest to fend her off. "No, no, my dear. I only chose you... only... because."

I was at a loss for more to say as her soft lips found mine. Her tongue was as swift as a striking cobra, delving into my mouth and sharing the spicy-sweet taste of some exotic candy. Perhaps I managed one last attempt to deny her, but as her hand reached down to my groin, I found all efforts futile. She squeezed my manhood through my trousers. She said something in her heathen tongue and looked up at me with those golden eyes as she unzipped my pants and took out my cock.

She seemed quite pleased with the size of it and she licked the palm of her hand and grasped me firmly. She continued to kiss me and tease me with her tongue as her deft hand worked me into an absolute lather. Her thumb swiping the bell of my cock and spreading my oily precum certainly gave me a few shudders of pleasure. Nor did I complain when she set her warm breasts upon my face and cradled the back of my head with her free hand. I kissed her lovely cushions and breathed in her exotic scent as she wanked my cock. I sucked the delicate buds of her nipples and leaned up to steal more than my share of kisses from her soft lips as her hand shuffled from my glans down to my root.

Her hand was a delight, but it hardly prepared me for the heavenly sensation I experienced as Khadija leaned her face down to my lap and took my cock into her mouth. Certainly, I had known of whores to do such things, but I was a gentleman up to that point in my life and had never experienced such things. She wrapped her lips about my cock, cradled my tender tip with her tongue, and began to suck upon my manhood. She gazed up at me with those exotic, kohl-rimmed eyes as she bobbed her mouth up and down my cock and employed her hand at the base of my shaft.

"Ohhh... damn it all... Khadija..." I leaned my head back and became completely lost in the sensation. The distant playing of that harp receded further and the small room I shared with Khadija filled with the soft slurping suckle of her mouth upon my cock and the occasional moan of lust from the lovely girl. The expert way her hot mouth pleasured me brought me to a rapid climax. I groaned and attempted to warn the girl that my seed was liable to spill directly into her mouth. Yet that seemed to be exactly what Khadija desired she continued to stare up at me as her lips slipped and slid over the straining tip of my cock. 

"Bloody hell!" I grunted and felt my bollocks seize up as my cream fired directly into the young beauty's mouth. She sucked with enthusiasm and tapped me for all I had, her lips only slowing in the end as my cock became so sensitive that I gasped and fought against her. 

She lifted her mouth from my tender tip and parted her lips to show me the milk of my loins that filled her mouth. With a smile upon her face, she swallowed it all down! Elizabeth winced at the slightest splash of the stuff upon her thigh and yet Khadija drank my cum with relish. What a girl!

"Oh, that was a sinful... sinful delight," I said as she crawled off the cushions and stood. She walked over to a small, ornate table and opened a drawer. I sat popped myself up on my elbows and admired her golden curves and the roundness of her lovely bum. "Thank you for your, ah, hospitality, Khadija."

When I said her name, she glanced at me over her shoulder and fluttered those long, dark eyelashes. She returned to the mound of cushions with a small silver pitcher. 

"What is that for? Something to drink?"

She smiled serenely, as if she had not just sucked my cock off, and she knelt down beside my hip. My cock was quite spent and flaccid as a boiled noodle against my thigh. Khadija held the pitcher over my manhood and slowly drizzled out a liquid that seemed as thick as honey. She grasped my cock and began to stroke me once more.

"Not sure the old boy can go twice so quickly," I said. "Better to call it a night."

I tried to get up, but Khadija put a firm hand on my shoulder and held me in place. She began to squeeze and massage my cock and I realized the liquid she had poured onto it was very slick. That strange oil also began to feel quite warm. She squeezed and stroked and gently tugged my cock to full hardness in a matter of seconds. A few seconds more of her lovely hand and that warm oil and my cock seemed even harder and redder than before in her glistening grasp.

Khadija continued to work my cock with one slippery hand as she deftly unbuttoned my uniform. I helped her undress me down to my undershirt, which I then pulled off over my head. She stroked the hair on my chest. I leaned up and kissed her. My cock seemed to burn and throb with a need to be inside her and all I had to do was take her. 

She climbed atop me and with her hand she guided me to her hot entrance. Her cunt was slick and warm and eager for my throbbing manhood. She swallowed my cock and slid down upon me. 

"Oh, Khadija," I moaned.

"Ma-jor Lew-is," she replied as she rode atop me. The golden mounds of her breasts bounced faster and faster as her cunt clutched at my cock. I thrust into her and held her hips, but there was no mistaking she was in charge in this act. I remembered the way she danced at supper, at the way her jeweled hips swung and her lovely tits bounced, and Khadija's movements atop me were a perfect reenactment of that erotic movement. Her hips swung and her back curved with each thrust. 

"Ohhhh, you're hot as fire," I gasped as the furnace of her cunt squeezed around me. 

"Ma-jor Lew-is," she gasped and fell forward, her soft breasts against my chest and her lips against mine. We kissed in a hot tangle that tasted faintly of my salty seed. Her hips worked and she moved faster and faster until I could feel my cum churning once more.

"Khadija!" I cried and grabbed her firm bottom with both hands, pulling her down onto my cock and spearing my manhood deep into her gripping channel. My seed exploded from my throbbing cock and she gasped as if the hot gush of my cream triggered her own pleasure. Her tongue slipped over mine and we moaned into each other's mouths as her squeezing quim milked out every shot of my seed. 

She collapsed atop me, my cock still inside her, but slowly deflating. I held her in my arms and kissed her shoulder and cheek.

My guilt could wait. In the moment, I felt nothing but the elation of a good rut and her lovely warmth in my arms gave me strength.

"I think," I whispered as my hand caressed her back, "I will be ready for the battle to come."

"Ma-jor Lew-is," she said and kissed me softly.

The damned Nazis never stood a chance.