An Afghan Bride Ch. 01

After forty days in this desert of a country without seeing a single woman, let alone physical contact, Carl hungered for the sight of a woman.

Any woman would do. The closest thing that one got to that in this country were the blue ghosts that walked the streets in little herds. They were completely covered in the traditional blue Afghan burqa or chador. Each of them looked exactly alike, no identify, no personality. He often wondered how they could tell each other apart. Did an Afghan child ever go home with the wrong mother? Did an Afghan man ever go home with the wrong wife?

Carl had come to Afghanistan to join his wife, Lauren. She was offered a job working as a women's rights advocate for the US agency for international development. It had been a dream of hers since their first trip abroad and he had encouraged her to take the position.

Lauren's position was not an accompanied post. Because of security concerns, family was not allowed to come. But, there was no way Carl was going to let his wife go to Afghanistan alone, even if she was with the US government. So, he found a position with a small development organization that worked with the Afghan ministry of education. That way they could be together.

Lauren's supervisors hadn't been amused when the heard that Carl had gone around their restrictions and had gotten a position with a different organization in the same town where she worked.

They refused to let him stay with Lauren at the agency guest house and they also required Lauren to check in each night at the official compound. Apparently, there could be no exceptions made to the security protocols. Or at least they didn't want to make any exceptions.

So for the last six months that had been trying to make it work with day time visits. It reminded him of the worst parts of high school. He could go to her place. She could go to his. But they had a ten o'clock curfew. Once they had still been in bed five minutes before ten, when a sharp rapping on the door startled them. The night security had come, Charles the mission leader had told them explicitly to make sure that no guests were on the compound after ten o'clock. Since there were no guests besides Carl it was clear who was meant. Since then, if possible Lauren came to his place. But then she had to be back by ten, which meant that she had to leave even earlier.

The last several weeks though even that hadn't been possible. Lauren has been in Kabul, twelve hours away, and she's been traveling around the country visiting various women's projects.

So for the last forty days Carl had been separated from his wife. This wasn't the first time that they have been apart. But it was the first time that he had been so completely excluded from female company. He hadn't been aware how much I would miss those casual interactions that we take for granted on a daily basis.

Lauren had called a few hours ago to let him know that she was back from her trip. They made a date for Carl to come over to her place for dinner. And so now he was standing in front of the entrance to her compound with dinner in a sack, a red rose from his garden, and a bottle of contraband wine wrapped inside an Afghan blanket.

Lauren's compound and the guesthouse where Carl stayed were worlds apart. Hers was a concrete fortress with razor wire around the walls and armed guards at the gate. Carl's was a traditional Afghan home with a green garden, thick mud walls and an elderly chawkidar who answered the door if anyone knocked or would go to fetch fresh bread in the morning.

Lauren lived in a two story house together with several other expats. Carl knew the way to her room and knocked quietly as he opened the door. Lauren was sprawled across her double bed with box springs, another notable difference between Carl's accommodations and hers.

She didn't wake as he entered the room. Her headscarf -even the foreigners have to wear one, slacks and bra were lying on one of the two chairs in the room. Carl moved these and quietly set up the dinner table trying not to disturb her.

He had prepared a special meal for her, with ingredients he had saved for a special occasion. If this wasn't a special occasion though, he didn't know what was. It was their first evening together in more than a month.

When everything was set and the wine poured he walked over to wake her.

It was too hot for her to be using a blanket and her long smooth legs were uncovered. She was wearing full body white cotton panties that clung tightly to her rounded ass. After 17 years of marriage, he could still get a hard on from just looking at his wife. At 42 she was still a beautiful woman.

He gently shook her by the shoulder. Nothing. He shook again, and quietly said her name, "Lauren."

She breathed out loudly but otherwise didn't stir.

He looked at the food ready on the table and then at his unconscious wife. Gently, he eased himself onto her bed and slid in behind her.

She didn't wake up as he softly stroked her cheek and brushed her hair off of her face. Softly, he kissed her cheek. As he did so she breathed in deeply and opened one eye looking up at me.

"I'm sorry. Did I fall asleep?" Lauren asked the sleep still clinging to her voice.

"You did." he smiled and kissed her cheek again.

By pressing gently on her shoulder he was able to get her to shift her position so that she was lying on her belly and straddling her hips he started to rub her shoulders and back.

"Oh, thank you. That's just what I need after the long trip."

Carl massaged her back through her shirt for a minute before rolling it up and from the bottom and pulling it off. She was now only wearing her cotton panties and Carl was very hard, his erection uncomfortably pushing against his jeans.

He continued to rub her back and allowed my hands to trace down her sides and cup her breasts. It had been so long since he had been with her; he didn't mind that the food was getting cold. He relished her warmth under his finger tips and allowed himself to linger on the soft flesh of her breasts before continuing to trace down the sides of her body.

As he reached the hem of her panties, she lifted her hips slightly and without a word he slid her panties down around her thighs. Then, gliding his hand along her inner thigh, he gently pressed her fingers against her womanhood. Softly stroking her he elicited her natural moisture to gather on her lips. Then pushing harder he spread her lips apart and slid his finger into her. It had been too long.

He loosened his pants, and pressed his hard erection against her thigh, guiding it into position between her legs. He lay on top of her with and leaning into her he pressed his way inside.

Lauren, moved her hips over so slightly to accept him into her and she felt her body stretch and accommodate the new guest inside of her. She felt her body reacting to his presence. It had been too long for her too.

Reaching around her waist Carl's hand followed the crease where her legs met her body. Pushing through the course hair, it rested right beside her erect clit.

After so long together, he knew how to make her come. Without speaking he rubbed around her clit in small concentric circles, sometimes brushing up against the tip of her tiny erection, sometimes squeezing and holding it. At the same time he pulled her into himself and sank his cock deeper and deeper into her. After a short time, the walls of her vagina began to contract as she came and he let himself fill her with his seed.

It wasn't the wild night Carl had been dreaming about on the lonely nights. It was better. It was the secure intimate love making of two people who implicitly trust each other. Two people who know each other and have committed to each other.

They lay that way with Carl inside of her for several minutes before they both fell asleep. The food was still sitting on the table but Carl didn't mind. He wasn't hungry anyway.

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Carl woke to Lauren shaking him roughly. There were birds outside the window and the first light of the morning was already shining in.

"Quick, you have to go! It's morning!" Lauren whispered frantically.

"What's the big deal?"

"You're not allowed to stay overnight you know that. If Charles sees you, one of the guards could lose their job."

Charles was Lauren's supervisor and the one who had said that Carl couldn't stay at the government compound. He was a real prick. A stickler for protocol, Carl didn't know if he was just a control freak or if he had a thing for Lauren, or both. He had seen him checking out her ass on more than one occasion.

Personally, Carl didn't care if Charles saw him or not. It's unlikely that anything would happen to Lauren, beyond perhaps a reprimand. But she was right the Afghan guards would probably carry the brunt of his displeasure. And why should they be punished just because he fell asleep.

Quietly, he looked into the hallway. All clear. He headed down the steps but heard someone coming up at the same time he looked around but there was nowhere to go. An Afghan man with a long beard came up the steps carrying some hot Afghan naan bread wrapped in a cloth. He looked at Carl and seemed to smile to himself but went on walking without a word.

Carl hated sneaking around like this. It made him feel like he was still in high school and trying to sneak out of his girlfriend's house without being noticed. Except it wasn't his girlfriend he had slept with. It was his wife! Why should he have to sneak around?

He managed to get out of the compound without anyone else noticing him, aside from the morning guard who was as eager as he was to get him out quickly without a disturbance.

This whole thing was so ridiculous. Why couldn't he just stay there? It's not like he was a security threat. If he had wanted to blow something up he could easily do it during one of his many day visits. And it's not like his presence would add more costs to the program. He would even be willing to pay rent if that was the issue. No, Carl decided, it was Charles. Charles just liked the fact that he could control them.

Out on the street, Carl called his driver to come and pick him up. It took a few rings but eventually Rahmat, his driver and translator, picked up the phone.

In Afghanistan everyone had a driver. It wasn't that Carl didn't know how to drive, or that it was illegal for foreigners to drive, it just wasn't done. Carl saw it as an opportunity to be humble and to allow his hosts to offer him a service. It was also a huge boost to the local economy. Every foreign in their white truck with a driver on the payroll would probably be one of the biggest employment projects in the country.

Rahmat was a young Tajik man, who had learned English from watching movies. He talked fast and drove faster. Carl thought it was more likely that they would die in a car accident than by a terrorist attack, but so far they had been fortunate and had avoided both.

A lot of the foreigners come to be good friends with their translators. In many ways the translator is the guide to a whole new world. You experience your surroundings through their explanations and others hear your ideas through their voice. But Carl didn't think that he would ever be very close to Rahmat. He was rude and immature and his only interests were money and women and not only in that order.

Lauren on the other hand adored her translator, Mina. She had a female translator which was unusual but important since Lauren worked so much with vulnerable women. Lauren visited her house regularly and was learning Dari from her. She had gotten really attached to her and felt that she was almost like the daughter that she had never had. A few months ago, she had even helped her family with several hundred dollars when her Mina's father had expectantly died suddenly.

Rahmat screeched the white SUV to a stop less than a meter from where Carl was standing. Dust clouded up all around them. Carl had hardly climbed into the vehicle before Rahmat was off again.

Carl worked as an adviser for a local teacher training college and taught some classes on biology and English. It was thankless work. He was forbidden to teach about half the biology textbook. Anything with evolution or sexuality was off limits. And regardless of how well they did on the exams he was expected to pass all of them. Three of his biology students were amazing and it was a joy to teach them but the rest were just passing the time. It made him sometimes wonder what he was doing here working for practically nothing.

After his last class had finished he got a call from Lauren.

"Hi, how are you?"

"Mina is getting married!" Lauren blurted out on the phone as her greeting.

"Oh, wow. Give her my congratulations."

"No. We've got to do something." Lauren emotionally replied.

"What do you mean do something? Normally when someone gets married, you get them a toaster, go to party and drink more than you ought to. What else do you want to do?"

"You, just don't get it at all." Lauren complained.

"Well then explain it to me." Carl said, getting frustrated.

"Mina is getting married to someone she doesn't even know. She is being SOLD! Just like all these other women I see all the time."

"Hold on. What do you mean she is getting sold?"

"Just that. She is getting sold. Her brother is marrying her off to some man twice her age, who she never even met, so that she can be his private cook, cleaner and sex slave. The brother is getting $8000!"

"That's terrible. Are you sure it's that bad?" Carl tried to comfort her.

"Yes, I hear the stories all the time. Mina does too, and she's terrified."

"That's horrible. I'm so sorry. But what can we do? That's Afghanistan."

"I refuse to accept that. If I just accept this, if I can't even help Mina, my friend, what am I even doing here?"

"Honey, I'm so sorry. But there's not much that we can do about it though, is there?"

"I can't do anything. But you can."

"Huh? What can I do?"

"You could marry her first!"