Jack Grierson Chronicles Ch. 01: Leyla

Jack kept thrusting into her, sinking a few more inches each time. With the third thrust he sank his entire length into her and when she felt his mount smack on hers she cried out, "Bozhe moy, ty u menya v gorle!" (My God, you are in my throat!") Jack worked on her steadily, building up his tempo, giving her a chance to become accustomed to his huge dick. Her excitement rose in sync with his tempo. Her thighs threshed, her nails raked his back and she kissed him with abandon. Her tongue sparred with his and would not let him break off the kiss. She breathed into his mouth, exuding the vanilla scent of the condom together with smell of her expensive perfume.

Soon she was past the limits of her experience. No man had ever fucked her this long without cumming. She wondered how Jack maintained his control, for she felt herself losing hers.

"Yebat' menya!... Okh!!... , Yebat' menya gluboko!!... Ookh!!... Ne ostanavlivaysya!... Okh!!... Yebat' menya trudno!!" (Fuck me!...Ooh!!... Fuck me deep!!... Oooh!!... Don't stop!... Oooh!!... Fuck me hard!!)

She came again. As was his wont, Jack did not stop fucking her, but continued through her massive contractions and the thrashing of her body, impaling her on her cock. He had her so sensitized now that she came twice again in succession, so quickly that neither of them could tell when one orgasm ended and the next began. This double whammy brought Jack over the edge and he came, pounding her and filling the sac of the condom with his jism.

Afterwards, he cuddled her in her afterglow, still excited by contrast between the tightly bound black headscarf that still covered her hair and her racy lingerie.

"You are amazing, Leyla Aliyeva," whispered Jack.

She was still breathless, but whispered back, "I love you, Jack Grierson."

Jack had assumed that Mushtaq would provide him with a high-class hooker and had been prepared to pay a fat tip out of the wad of cash he had in his wallet. But holding Leyla in his arms and looking into her big blue eyes, somehow this course of action seemed seedy. He wracked his brains for something to give her. At his wit's end, he pulled off his high school class ring. It was embossed with his school coat of arms and the year of his graduation, and it meant something to him. He gave it to her saying, "To remember me by." He expected her to show her distaste for the cheap trinket, and was surprised by the childish glee with which she took it, kissed it and held it to her breast.

A few minutes later there was a discreet knock on the door. Jack rose, toweled off and pulled on his pants before saying, "Enter."

Ahmed, the major domo opened the door, but did not enter.

"Mr. Grierson, the guest suite is ready for you."

Jack looked around at Leyla as he gathered the rest of his clothing. She was a study in extremes, with her modest black headscarf and her voluminous burkah on the floor by the bed, her near nakedness accentuated by her demi-bra, garters and stockings. She blew him a kiss.

The next morning, Jack breakfasted with Mushtaq on the deck. The prince seemed preoccupied and did not bring up the previous night, so Jack politely did not mention it either. He was disappointed that Leyla was nowhere in evidence. He almost asked about her a dozen times, but each time he stopped himself. After they finished breakfast, Mushtaq escorted Jack to the gangway, followed by Ahmed. Jack's limo was on the quay with Henry behind the wheel.

"Thanks for coming aboard, Jack," said Mushtaq. "I think we're even and we've sealed our deal. We'll both make millions out of it."

"Yes, we will," replied Jack. When he settled into the cushions of the limo, he looked out the window at the massive yacht, running his eyes over the decks and the portholes, wondering where Leyla was.

He thought that was the end of it and told himself he should forget her. But two days later, he was working late and decided to stay in his suite at the Hilton for the night. He had Henry drop him there and as he was getting his key card from the desk, the clerk said, "Mr. Grierson, there is a woman here to see you. She came yesterday and waited for you all evening. Today she has been waiting for almost three hours. She's in the lobby over by the fireplace."

Jack looked over to see Leyla rise and walk toward him. She was dressed as before in a black burkah, the black headscarf tightly bound over her hair. Neither one of them spoke, but she fell into step with him as he walked towards the elevators. They entered his suite together. As usual, there was a bottle of Dom Perignon in a silver bucket waiting for him. He opened it and poured out two flutes, handing her one. They clinked and sipped the bubbly wine.

"I want you," she said.

"What about Mushtaq?" asked Jack. "If you stay with me, he will kill both of us."

"It is the right time of the month for me - and I want your baby," she said simply. "I know how to keep him happy. He will think it is his and he will never know."

So Jack fucked her that night and pumped his seed into her. He fucked her four times, making her scream with orgasm after orgasm. She was right; she was indeed ovulating. By morning he was sure he had bred her.

__________________

Henry pulled up in the portico of the ambassador's residence in a long line of limousines. Jack and Carmen sat in the rear cushions with Martin and Isabelle facing them. Jack's presence had ruined the evening for Martin. He had hoped to have his mother and wife to himself, away from his father's shadow, showing off his rich and powerful connections. He sat quietly fuming while Carmen prattled on with Jack and Isabelle.

"Prince Mushtaq is always in the society pages isn't he?" she said. "Always escorting some society beauty. You used to know him, didn't you Jack? When did you see him last?"

"Not since we did that hotel deal together. Remember, the one that got your father to promote me to Vice President."

"Oh, I remember that one! We flew to Dubai together for the opening. That was such a grand affair. That was when he rode a camel with me. I thought he was so colorful, like someone out of a movie. He certainly goes after what he wants."

Mushtaq had desperately wanted to bed the young Carmen. She was flattered by his attentions - she flirted with him and they exchanged some mild innuendo. But when he took encouragement and began to make physical advances, she drew back. He grew quite insistent but the more he pushed, the more she resisted, until she grew quite sharp. Jack remembered the whole thing very well, so he did not respond.

The large front double doors were open, but there were half a dozen hard faced security men with earpieces and large bulges under their armpits. Martin handed the card he had been given at the Embassy reception to one of the men, who scanned it on a bar code reader.

"Mr. Martin Grierson, Mrs. Isabelle de la Roque Grierson and Mrs. Carmen St James Grierson," he read off the screen in front of him. "I only have the three of you on my list. I cannot admit anyone else."

Martin smirked. Isabelle saw it and her lips compressed into a thin line. She was furious at her husband's spiteful trickery and eased her arm away from him.

"That's OK," said Jack easily. "I'll leave. Henry can take me to the office, there are few things I need to catch up on."

"No, no," remonstrated Carmen. "There must be some mistake. I only agreed to come this afternoon. Martin, you did give them your father's name at the same time as mine didn't you?"

"Of course, mother," said Martin innocently.

"Is there someone you can call?" asked Carmen.

"Don't worry, dear," said Jack. "Just go on in and have a great time."

Just as Jack was turning to walk away, Mushtaq's major domo Ahmed appeared. He bowed, welcoming Martin, Isabelle and Carmen. Then he called out, "Mr. Grierson, is that you?"

"Yes," Jack said, turning around, his hands in his pockets.

"Prince Mushtaq begs that you will join the dinner party," he said. "Please forgive the oversight in the guest list."

"I do not wish to intrude," said Jack.

"Mr. Grierson, the prince has authorized me to say that he will take it as a personal favor if you will attend."

"That is very kind of him," said Jack, walking back in past the security men. He joined Carmen, Martin and Isabelle, pretending not to notice his son's nasty look.

Given the size and splendor of the ambassador's residence, the dinner was an intimate affair. There were just about twenty of Mushtaq's closest friends there. It was served as a buffet and presided over by Mushtaq's oldest son Aziz, who was just a year younger than Martin. Martin sought out Mushtaq and made a show introducing him to Isabelle and Carmen. Jack hung back at the fringes of the gathering, eating little, but watchful. There was an Arabian sword dance with a troupe from Riyadh, who performed with real swords. At the conclusion, Mushtaq took one of their swords, threw up an apple and expertly sliced it two in mid-air, demonstrating both his skill as well as the razor sharpness of the blade.

After dinner, Mushtaq's youngest wife appeared, fully covered in a black burkah. She had a small child in her arms that was introduced to all present as Mushtaq's youngest child. After making a round of the room and being introduced, she disappeared back into the interior of the residence. Then Jack's heart stopped as Leyla entered, leading a three children, a tall blond-haired, blue-eyed boy of about fourteen and two younger, darker girls.

"My son Akhbar," announced Mushtaq. He did not bother to introduce his daughters. Dressed in her black burkah and headscarf, Leyla just stood there without even looking up to see who was in the room. But even as she fixedly looked at the floor, Jack's close scrutiny revealed that she had a very distinct black eye. Mushtaq went to her and put an arm around her waist.

"Leyla is my dearest friend," he said. "My life would be empty without her."

Leyla's cheeks went red with his words. She quickly turned and left, taking her three children with her.

"She is shy," said Mushtaq. "She cannot abide any company but mine."

Jack watched her disappear through the door. He was assailed by a vague feeling of disappointment that she had not acknowledged his presence. It was a lifetime ago, he thought. An impossible liaison. What I thought we had was just my imagination.

He was lost in thought when he was suddenly jerked back into the present by a tap on his shoulder. It was Mushtaq.

"Could we have a word? In private?"

Jack followed Mushtaq out of the reception hall down a corridor and into a cozy book-lined study. Mushtaq poured out two snifters of hundred-year-old brandy and handed Jack one. They sipped in silence for a long moment.

"What did you do to her, Jack?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"You know very well. I love Leyla to distraction. Giving her to you was the worst mistake. I don't know what happened between the two of you on my yacht, but that night changed our lives. Before that night she loved me as much as I love her - she lit up like a candle whenever I entered the room. After that night, it was as if a light switch was turned off. She has not loved me since."

"Mushtaq, you must see how ridiculous this sounds."

"I would not have believed it if I did not live it, every day. She does everything I ask. Except love me. Year after year, you remain in her thoughts. I do not understand it - I give her everything."

"Including beatings."

"Yes, I beat her on occasion. When she first came into my harem, I never beat her; she was the one who used her nails on me. It was exciting! Now I beat her just to get her to react to me like she used to, but she just cowers like a mongrel bitch. You took the spark out of our relationship, Jack."

"Well, you've got what you wanted from her. Three beautiful children."

"Yes, I wanted a blond child and she has given me Akhbar. The boy is so like me! You should see how he handles a falcon."

Jack swirled his brandy in the snifter and did not respond.

"She's a delicate flower," he said finally. "Cherish her, for you will not find another like her."

"Bah!" said Mushtaq. He tossed back what was left of his brandy. "I'll leave you to finish your drink in peace." He left Jack in the study, shutting the door behind him with a thump that rang of finality.

Jack sat on the massive oaken desk and took another sip of the fine brandy. He closed his eyes, savoring the exquisite taste. When he opened his eyes, Leyla stood before him, dressed as always in an all-enveloping black burkah and headscarf. He gawked at her, but unlike in the reception room, she looked straight into his blue-gray eyes. He saw the full reality of the black, purple and blue bruising around her eye. Impulsively, he put down his brandy snifter, covered the few steps between them and took her in his arms. He cradled her head and ran his fingers gently, ever so gently, over her bruised eye.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"What do you think of our son?" she whispered.

Jack's look was answer enough. He kissed her and she kissed him back, desperately, frantically, as if to make up for all their years apart. She rubbed her body on his, rousing his manhood to a full erection.

"We can't," gasped Jack. "Not here."

"I leave for Riyadh tomorrow. Mushtaq may never let me leave Arabia again." She looked up at him again. "You must give me another child to love in that desolate harem. Akhbar belongs to Mushtaq now."

Jack looked over at the study door doubtfully.

"I lock it when I come in," she said, her English deteriorating as she spoke faster. "And there is secret passage out if someone comes."

He still looked doubtful, but she smiled impishly. She extricated herself from his arms.

"Let me show you what they taught me in the harem. I dance for you."

She pulled out her smartphone and cued up some haunting Middle Eastern music at a low volume. Joining her hands above her head, she undulated her body in time to the music, moving slowly and snake-like. Covered from head to toe, she still managed to convey the shape of the sexy body underneath. She danced up to Jack and then retreated, up and back several times. Each time she advanced, she unfastened more hooks of her burkah, so that it began to slip down her body. With a final swing of her hips, she allowed the voluminous garment to slide completely down and off. She stood in a statuesque pose, with her arms above her head, raising her already firm breasts. Her tightly wound headscarf still covered her hair. Under the burkah she wore exactly the same clothing as she had at their first meeting, the demi-bra, black stockings, garters and pumps - but she had no panties on.

Jack picked her up and carried her to desk. Laying her on it, he made to go down on her but she remonstrated, "No time for that. I'm all wet - I was masturbating thinking about you. Just fuck me. Put your baby in my womb."

So Jack fucked her. It was artless, for they were both in a hurry. Her masturbation has sensitized her and she came very quickly. She was no longer the nineteen-year-old he had known and the orgasm almost drove her to hyperventilation. He remained deeply embedded in her, filling her with his huge cock that pulsed with his heartbeat, listening to her panting. As her breathing slowed she said, "Let me show you something else they taught me in the harem."

She scissored her stocking-clad legs around his waist and arched her back. She rolled her hips, squeezing his cock with her tight vagina and whispered, "It is called the love of the belly-dancer." She rolled her hips first in one direction and then the other. The sensation of her tightness massaging his dick was so pleasurable that he groaned. When he began fucking her again, he only lasted a few quick thrusts before he climaxed, driving his seed into her womb.

Slowly, his erection began to subside, but he remained in her, knowing that withdrawal would mean goodbye.

"Why did Mushtaq beat you?" he asked.

"Always same reason," she said, pulling on the black ribbon choker around her throat. Jack saw that his high school ring hung from it. "He want ring you gave me. Every time, he offer exchange for sapphire ring, diamond ring, but I forever say no. So he be angry, make a great fist and hit me."

Unconsciously, Jack tightened his hold on her. He felt his eyes sting.

"Hush," she said, wiping his eyes. He was surprised for he did not realize that there were tears in his eyes - he could not remember the last time he had shed tears. "I have only had two men in my life. One loves me and beats me. I love the other and I do not want him to cry."

"Give him the damn ring," said Jack, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. "It is a worthless trinket. Let him destroy it - it is not worth all this pain."

"No!" He was surprised by the stridency in her voice. "It is my memory of you. I take it with me to my grave. If he wants it, he must kill me."

Jack knew that Mushtaq funded a dozen different terrorist groups and had no shortage of hardened killers at his beck and call. She was a delicate fawn surrounded by wolves. There was nothing he could do to save her. But for now he held her.

There was the sound of the doorknob - someone was trying to enter. Jack pulled out and his soft cock came out of her with a plop. Using his handkerchief to clean himself he called out, "Sorry, I must have shut it by accident. Just a moment!" He pulled on his trousers and looked around just in time to see Leyla pause by a tall painting on the rear wall. She hit an unseen knob and the painting slid aside, revealing a narrow passage. She turned and he saw that she had her burkah in a black bundle in her arms. Once again, he found the juxtaposition of her black headscarf with her lingerie-accented nakedness intensely erotic. But there was a look of deep sadness in her blue eyes. She took half a step back towards him, then whirled and ran down the passage. He felt a painful lump forming in his throat. As the painting slid back into place, he knew he would never see her again.

Jack picked up his brandy snifter and opened the door. Ahmed came in and looked around the study suspiciously. He stopped in the middle of the floor and sniffed. Leyla's distinctive perfume hung in the air.

"Leyla was just here," said Jack. "Thank God you came and stopped me from doing something stupid. She fled as soon as she heard your knock."

"Even if you had tried, it would have been a vain effort, Mr. Grierson. She knows full well that Prince Mushtaq will have her killed if she cheats on him."

"Well, I guess there was no risk then."

__________________

It was unnaturally silent in the limo on the way home. Jack was lost in his own thoughts and did not notice it.

"Who is Leyla?" asked Carmen. She was trying to make conversation and the question sounded forced.

"She's one of Prince Mushtaq's concubines," said Martin authoritatively. "He has over a dozen. She's probably the one he happened to bring out tonight. Concubines are like jackets to Arab princes like Mushtaq. He sleeps with a different one every night, just as he wears a different jacket every day - they mean nothing to him."

"Well, she is very beautiful," said Carmen. "And her son is so handsome. I think he looks a bit like you, Martin."

"What a silly idea!" laughed Martin, leaning forward and patting Carmen's thigh.

Isabelle sat very erect, staring straight ahead. She was deaf to the conversation between mother and son and did not recognize Martin's presence. Jack glanced at her and immediately knew that she was incensed. Martin tried to hold her hand, but she jerked it away.

When Henry dropped them at home, Carmen gave an elaborate yawn and said, "I'm very tired. I'm going straight to my suite."