The Sultan's Favourite

Amina glanced out of the palace window, searching the cloudy skies for the moon. The bright crescent had almost reached its zenith, and Hakim would be here soon. He had no obligation to be on time, no one commanded a sultan to be anywhere, but she knew that he would be punctual for Amina. He always was.

She walked over to her large bed. The most expensive silk sheets in the entire palace covered a mattress so soft that Amina was convinced a feather would sink into it. Sleeping on his perch inside of the diamond-encrusted cage was a magnificent songbird. He was bright blue, and his angelic voice had caused many a menagerie owner to shake his fists in envy. Hakim had bought it for her on one of his many journeys, a present for her services. She wasn't used to being the favourite yet, all the special treatment, having her own quarters, her own maids. The other wives surely resented her by now, just as Amina had resented the Sultan's last favourite.

She looked at her reflection in the tall mirror, the maids had truly outdone themselves, she thought. Her dark hair had been artfully pulled up into a complex topknot which itself was made up of a single, long braid. She wore a pink robe that reached all the way down to her ankles but was split at one side, starting at her hip and revealing a glimpse of soft, olive skin. Her back was free, and the dress was sleeveless in order to better show off Amina's unique assets, indeed the main reason for her current status as the first wife.

Where only half a year ago had been a dancer's graceful arms, there now was a pair of smooth, round and empty shoulders. Even craning her neck to get a better look, Amina could only make out the faintest trace of a scar. The sultan's new healer truly was a master. Hakim had brought him back from foreign lands, and the peasants even called him a sorcerer. The healer had always treated Amina well, particularly once he'd been made aware of her position. Amina's injuries could have been the end for her, and in many ways, her old life was indeed over. Never would she have expected this, the palace, the gown, the room, it was impossible for Amina to fully comprehend, impossible to even imagine ever getting used to all this.

Knock, knock, knock.

'Light of my life. I yearn for your company. Will you receive me this evening?'

Amina quickly crouched down on her Persian rug. Kneeling was difficult without arms for balance, but she had practised a lot.

'It would be an honour, your majesty. Please enter.'

The door swung open. Amina shifted her weight forwards, fell onto her knees and bowed her head.

'Rise.'

Slowly she put one foot forward and used it to pull herself back up.

Sultan Hakim stood in front of her, wearing nothing but a small, open vest and a pair of his poofiest trousers. A long, golden rope served as his belt. Amina could see his muscular stomach, his travels had made his skin darker than even her own and he was tall and broad-shouldered. Amina had never seen the Sultan fight, but the bards called him a born warrior, a dancer on the battlefield, light on his feet, quick with his spear.

'You look radiant, the stars pale in comparison,' he said, and reached out for her face, stroking her cheeks and lips. She kissed his hand.

'Clouds are in the sky, your majesty. There is hardly a star in sight.'

Hakim smiled, he loved her insolence at times. Amina knew she was playing a dangerous game, but boring the sultan would mean greater peril by far.

'I see one,' he said. 'It is bright enough to turn the night into day, and it belongs to me.'

Amina looked down.

'Of course.'

'Kiss me.'

Amina did. His technique was forceful, assertive. Amina knew she couldn't back down, couldn't let him take charge without a fight. She knew how to kiss a sultan, with passion and force, and as if nothing could please her more than thrusting her tongue deeper and deeper. With Hakim this wasn't difficult, he too had had his fair share of practice.

He put his hands onto her shoulders, and started to massage them, his grip was firm. He pulled her closer and his tongue play became more and more intense before he pushed Amina back, laughing.

'Tonight, you are to entertain me. How will you go about doing that?'

It was a command. It was a permission. It was her turn.

'You are a magnificent man, your majesty. Do you intend to deny me the pleasure of taking in all of your beauty?'

The Sultan grinned madly, his ego was in good shape, even without Amina's help. She walked up close to him, and kissed his exposed chest, nudging the vest with her forehead as if eagerly trying to get it out of the way, to reach and taste and worship his royal nipples. He grabbed her hair with one hand, but Amina continued.

'I may require your help, your majesty,' she said. 'I would so like to worship this body of yours properly.'

He let go of her hair and the vest fell to the ground.

Amina began to lick the sultan's nipple. Circling it with her tongue, kissing it, then gently sucking on it. She took in Hakim's smell. The sweat of a long, hot day was mixed with his expensive body oil. She was more familiar with this smell than with the hundreds of perfumes she'd worn herself over the years, and she'd come to adore it. She moved up, licking and kissing his neck.

'Will you lie down for me?' she asked in between kisses.

'If it is your wish,' Hakim said, and followed the instruction.

He was quickly on his back, smiling expectantly, his legs thrust apart.

'Join me.'

Amina kicked off her shoes, stepped onto the bed, and knelt down between Hakim's legs.

'This exquisite belt seems to be in the way, your majesty,' Amina said.

Hakim untied the golden rope, which had held up his pants, and discarded it. Still on her knees, Amina shuffled closer.

'You next,' Hakim said.

He sat up, and pulled down the pink robe, leaving Amina naked except for silk cloths tied around her chest and waist. Impatiently he tore off the first one, revealing Amina's large, well-formed tits, her nipples already rigid. Hakim grabbed the breasts, and Amina moaned as he began to squeeze and play. There were hunger and desire behind his intense stare, and he pinched her nipples, then started to press his full lips against one of them.

'Beautiful,' he said.

'Thank you, your majesty. Ouch!' he had bitten her nipple.

'Thank you,' Amina said again.

Hakim reached around and slapped her ass, and Amina was unable to suppress a tiny moan of excitement. The Sultan leant back, then waited.

Amina nodded. It was her turn again.

She leant down and kissed Hakim's pants. She could feel his stiff member, twitching and throbbing in response to the light touch of Amina's lips.

'Your majesty,' she said, and looked him straight in the eyes. 'Take it out for me.'

Her heart was pounding furiously. Fear, anxiety and relentless desire fought a raging battle deep within Amina.

The Sultan did as she'd asked.

'Kiss it,' he said, and Amina immediately pressed her lips against the erect manhood.

'Lick it.'

She went up and down the shaft, licking every inch until saliva was dripping from its length.

'Come here.'

She leant forward as far as she could.

'Closer.'

She fell forward onto Hakim's stomach. He laughed and grabbed her empty shoulders. He caressed them running his fingers along the scars which sent a tingling down Amina's spine, and she squirmed under his touch, as the sensation grew stronger and stronger. He pulled her closer, so they were face to face, Amina lying on the sultan's chest, her tits propping her up like a pair of large, soft pillows. She could feel his manhood brushing up against her leg.

The Sultan reached down and tore off the second strip of silk. His hand reached between her legs, and he felt for her sex. It was moist and sensitive and responded to his touch immediately. He ran his fingers through Amina's pubic hair, playfully getting closer and closer, then two digits entered her. Only briefly, but thrusting as deep as possible, and slowly, agonisingly pulling back out, while his other hand grabbed her hair again. He put the moist fingers onto her mouth, covering Amina's lips in the warm juices.

'Open,' he said, and Amina obediently licked the fingers clean, her own smell and taste overwhelming her senses.

Hakim pulled a needle from Amina's hairdo, and the long braid fell onto her back. He grabbed her shoulders again, and, as he caressed them, his mighty royal manhood slid inside her.

Amina began to move rhythmically up and down, and with each thrust, Hakim went just a little deeper and gripped just a little harder.

'Ah! I can feel it! I can't...'

Amina met the sultan's gaze. No. No release for her yet. Amina only came for him.

They started to kiss. Her shoulders, her tongue, and the intensity between her legs, the sensations came wave after wave, each stronger than the last, muffled moans came in between the kisses.

'Please! Please!'

Hakim went faster and faster, and Amina felt herself beginning to lose control. Her back was arched, her legs cramping, her eyes watering. She was ready. Not yet! She had to keep it together, but she wanted to cum so, so badly. Right now! Not yet!

It was an eternity of agony and pleasure, and when she was about to give up, to surrender herself to the base urges, which now filled her entire world there it was: Hakim's triumphant cry of release.

Only when this most beautiful sound rang in Amina's ears, she let herself go, her body finally convulsing with pleasure, spasming violently, a relentless fit of ecstasy.

Then it was over.

Amina was breathing heavily, and glistening with sweat, the lovers' own smell overpowered any oil now. Hakim made no motion to pull out. He stared into his woman's face, stroking her hair.

'You have pleased me, wife.'

'I noticed,' Amina was still panting. 'Your majesty.'