Taliban Concubine Ch. 03

My belly was taut from the sit-ups I was doing; and my chest actually showed some definition from the push-ups. I was acutely aware of how my breasts were now a prominent feature on my chest.

Twice-a-day I would sit on Zayd's lap and he would fondle and knead my breasts. He would twist and pull at my nipples until they were sore.

I hate to admit this, but when Zayd left me alone, I caressed my own breasts, and massaged my nipples; they had become ultra-sensitive and I became aroused at the slightest touch.

I ate three meals a day, that is, after I'd swallowed Zayd's cum. I found myself looking forward to having his hot flesh deep in my mouth.

I thought often of Dmitri. I prayed he was alright. If it hadn't been for him I may not be alive. I loved him as much as I felt sorry for him.

He was younger than me when he left home to serve his country; barely an adult. He never had the opportunity to realize his hopes and dreams. Instead, a cruel twist of fate changed his life forever.

Circumstances beyond his control forced him to choose between life and death. He chose life and became a Taliban Concubine. Many men would rather die than succumb to the enemy...Dmitri and I view life as a precious gift that one must cling to at any cost.

If you were face-to-face with death and only one other option available to you-which option would you choose? Be honest...

The thought of his country leaving him behind in Afghanistan made me sick. It was worse than outrageous—it was unconscionable. I was sure my country would never do such a thing.

Once Zayd was gone for the day, and I heard the children playing outside; I would stand on my tip-toes and peer thru the crack in the shutters.

There were four of them, two boys and two girls, and they ran about, shrieking and laughing and playing like children everywhere played. I was puzzled when they mixed English into their own language, but didn't give it much thought.

The longer I watched the joy their pure innocence afforded them, the wider the smile on my own face became.

One early evening as I watched them, the gates near where they were playing swung open and a jeep drove into the courtyard. The children jumped and screamed and became more animated than usual.

Out of the jeep emerged a man dressed in Taliban garb. He had an impressive frame, and a full beard.

"Papa—papa—papa..." the children shouted.

When the man turned to pick-up one of the children, he was facing me. A jolt of surprise raced-up my spine. He looked vaguely familiar.

I was a good fifty yards from where they were standing, but I sensed I'd seen him somewhere before.

My heart began racing, my breath caught in my throat.

I found myself staring at his ruggedly handsome face; his broad shoulders and massive chest thinking he was absolutely gorgeous. I immediately chastised myself for thinking of another man in those terms.

The man scooted the children inside and when the courtyard was empty; I went and sat on the edge of my mattress. The man's face lingered dreamily in my mind.

I absentmindedly caressed my breasts and pinched my nipples until they were hard points; all the while thinking of the man's face and muscular body.

My penis rose to full erection and I closed my eyes.

I fantasized he was naked and I was kneeling between his powerful thighs. My trembling hand moved swiftly up-and-down my hard, throbbing prick.

Suddenly a thought so powerful came to mind that sent me careening over the cliff and my balls erupted like a volcano.

Is that Amir? I wondered.

My body shook violently as cum burst out of my prick and straight in the air. I cried-out with joy hoping and praying the man outside the window would be my new Master.