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Day four in Oman, a Wednesday, dawned with a soft knocking at my door.
I rolled over in bed, still half-asleep, checking the clock. It was about an hour prior to my alarm, and wearily, I got out of bed, walked to the door, and opened it. The hallway was deserted, apart from the back of a hijabi woman, making her way towards the elevator, who turned around when she heard the door open. It was Khadija. She quickly looked around, then bolted back towards my room, letting herself in and slamming the door behind her.
“Make yourself at home?” I said sleepily.
“Were you asleep?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Khadija sat on the unmade bed. “You guys let me sleep last night after we fooled around. I don’t mind, it was nice, but I napped for a couple of hours and now I’ve had all the sleep I can handle. I’ll never fall asleep again. Rania went back to bed after morning prayers, but I was up for the day, and I didn’t want to bother her by puttering around our room or putting the light on to read. I thought I’d see if you were up, and I tried to knock softly, but apparently it was enough to wake you.”
“It’s okay”, I said, shaking the cobwebs out of my head.
“Do you want to go back to bed?” she asked. “I can leave if you do.”
“I mean… you’re here now”, I answered.
“We could cuddle again”, she suggested. “I’d really enjoy that.”
“Sure, that sounds good.” I climbed back into bed, savouring the warmth of the spot I’d been sleeping in.
“Can we…” she hesitated, still standing. “Can we cuddle naked?”
I paused. “I don’t see why not”, I eventually said, with Rania’s permission slip from last night still ringing in my ears.
I stripped off my boxers and t-shirt under the covers, tossing them out from underneath as Khadija undressed, removing headscarf and abeya, revealing a set of form-fitting baby blue pyjamas. I watched as she slowly removed the top, letting it ride up her body and holding it in place for a second or two before doing a titty drop, her breasts bouncing away from her top as gravity took over. She then turned around and dropped her shorts and panties all in one, revealing her pussy from the rear as she lingered in that pose for a moment, before turning and slinking into bed with me, curling in and nibbling at my ear and neck. Khadija’s body was soft and warm and enveloping.
“Presumably you know what today’s plans are?” I asked obliviously. In my defense, I was still half-asleep.
“And you’re not going to tell me anything?”
“Not a chance”, she cooed.
“But you do know about Rania’s plans with me about her first time?”
“She wants you to deflower her tonight? Yeah, I know about it”, Khadija giggled.
“You’re also aware that men don’t recharge as fast as women do, and I want to save all my strength for her tonight?” I continued.
“I don’t necessarily want sex this morning”, she answered reassuringly. “I just wanted a cuddle, to spend some time with you.”
“You could have fooled me.”
She sighed. “Everything about you, about this trip, is turning me on right now. And I’m feeling dangerously uninhibited this week, so I’m sure you can tell exactly how I’m feeling as I’m feeling it. It is liberating like I cannot even begin to describe, feeling like I don’t have to hide my sexuality from you. But I really was just bored, and I enjoyed snuggling with a man yesterday and wanted more of it. I felt so safe in your arms.”
“I like snuggling with you.”
“And I really like teasing you”, she continued. The way you look at me makes me feel sexy. Men don’t look at women like that here, partly because that’s our culture, and partly because we have to present our frumpiest selves in public.”
“That makes sense”, I responded. “You and Rania are making me feel like a sex god so far on this trip. It is totally not what I’m used to, but I’m really enjoying it.”
“I’m fine with whatever happens this morning”, Khadija said happily. “Rania told me she gave you permission to fool around with me. But I’m still obviously going to respect your boundaries.”
We lay there for a few minutes, the noise of the air conditioner the only sound. I focused on Khadija’s slow breathing, feeling her soft, warm skin against mine, our legs entwined, the firm lusciousness of her breast against my chest.
“How was I yesterday?” Khadija finally broke the silence.
“It was a lot of fun”, I answered.
“I know it was, but how was I?”, she prodded.
You were an enthusiastic, uninhibited lover who was excellent at all of the things you’d have any understanding of how to do, but who clearly has never seen or touched a penis before”, I said honestly. “No one knows what to do with the opposite sex their first time; I was completely useless with a vagina once. I didn’t even know what a clit was, let alone how to find it.”
“Clearly whoever taught you did a good job”, she canlı bahis laughed. “Maybe you can teach me what to do this week sometime. You know, when you’re not fucking my best friend senseless.”
“I haven’t forgotten that I also owe you a masturbation show”, I remembered. “My obligations are starting to pile up. Maybe I should stay another week.”
“You should stay forever”, she cooed. Her hand had started exploring up and down my chest.
“Is this dangerous?” I asked her.
“Maybe.” She leaned in and kissed me as her hand drifted onto my cock, grasping it gently and starting to touch. I started getting hard, and I felt her experimenting with various touches on my penis as it grew and stiffened.
“That is seriously cool how that does that”, she said, awestruck.
“If you’re going to touch me anyway, I may as well show you what to do”, I said.
“I know you can’t cum, so I don’t want to get you too close anyway”, she responded. “I’m just trying to tease you.”
“I know.” She grinned deviously, still gently stroking.
“So, do you want me to give you that show now?” I asked.
“That sounds fun”, she answered. “That way it’s not my fault if you go too far and cum.”
“It would at least be sort of your fault, Miss Knock-on-my-door-at-6:30-in-the-morning-and-then-perform-a-striptease.”
“Guilty!” she said happily.
I sat up, uncovering both of us, and propped up a couple of pillows against the headboard, leaning back. Khadija got on her knees on the bed, legs spread slightly, staring without shame between my legs.
“This should be mutual, don’t you think?” I asked.
“I do, except I’m going to cum whether you want me to or not”, she responded seriously.
“Be my guest.” I smiled at her. “Ok, so get in as close as you want”, I showed her as she shifted to a closer view, straddling my leg. “The head is the most sensitive part. Think of it like the clit. The shaft is important too, I can’t cum without stimulating both, and I think most guys are the same. You can see I’m circumcised, which I think Muslim guys are -“
“They are”, she interjected.
“-and because I don’t have a foreskin, the way I do it is to use my hand to sort of simulate that. I mainly stroke with a backhand grip, and the penis produces a little bit of its own lube, though not as much as your vagina does. So I sort of stroke the shaft and rub the head at the same time with one hand, which simulates sex as much as you can on your own.”
“Interesting”, she breathed, watching me for a few moments. “Can I try?”
“Of course, though for a partner the forehand grip is usually better, because you can hold it from an angle that I can’t.”
Khadija reached between her legs and rubbed herself a little, then showed me the wetness in her hand before starting to stroke a little bit. Shortly, she had the knack of it, and it started feeling quite intensely good.
“OK, you’ve definitely got it.”
“Any other tips?”
“Use your thumb on the underside, like — yep, that’s it — and you can also sort of give a twist on the head at the top of you stroke…” I moaned deeply.
She stroked for a minute or so, experimenting with different grips and speeds, watching my face intently, trying to figure out what I enjoyed and didn’t. She was an inquisitive, sensitive personality, and it didn’t take her long until she’d narrowed in exactly on what I liked.
“Jesus, you’re a fast learner.”
Khadija smiled. “I try.” She kept stroking, giving the impression she was mentally recording everything for later use.
I suddenly grunted, involuntarily, which brought a smile from Khadija.
“This is really, really cool. Thanks, Ryan”, she said proudly, her hand still maintaining a grip and pace she’d correctly decided that I liked. “Later this trip I want to make you cum with my hand.”
“We can make that happen.” I took back over, stroking myself slowly as I turned to face her. “You haven’t started touching yourself yet but you’re obviously wet. Do you want to show me what you do?”
“Sure”, she shooed me off the pillows, and we reversed positions. I leaned down, resting my head on her inner thigh, six inches or so from her opening. “That’s awfully close.”
“I can move”, I offered, “but it’s nice being able to see the fine details up close since it’s so much more intricate down there than on a man.”
“True”, she said. “Okay, so I’m left-handed so I usually use my left. What I do is take two fingers, my index and middle, and get them wet, and I sort of lock them right into this spot here.” She indicated a spot on the right side of her clit hood. “Then I just kind of rub diagonal strokes across my hood.” She started doing this as she spoke. “That’s the absolute basic thing. I only touch my clit directly when I’m about to cum. Sometimes I like to lick my nipples while I’m doing it.” She took her right breast in her mouth, licking around the nipple as she rubbed.
“Do you ever go inside?”
“I like being penetrated”, she answered. bahis siteleri “It’s one of the things I’m most curious about having sex for real. I’ve had my fingers inside, as well as my lovers’, and my hairbrush handle. It’s hard to rub your own g-spot, but when I’m with a partner I like having something inside. I’ve never anything as large as you are, and it’s not like you can just buy a dildo in Saudi Arabia. I bet it feels incredible.”
I collected some wetness from her opening and locked two fingers onto the spot that she indicated, and I started trying to mimic her motions as she squirmed. “Yep, that’s definitely it”. She looked down at me. “You don’t exactly need a lesson, hon.”
“Every woman is different”, I responded. “The basics don’t change, but it’s good to know exactly what you like.”
“True”, she answered. “It’s all part of the fun in having new partners. I’ve never met another girl who likes it exactly how I do. I’m sure other men aren’t exactly like you, but I feel like I’m getting a foundation on what to do this week that I can use someday, and I’m really happy about that.”
We both stopped talking and started playing with ourselves, her laying against the headboard, me lying perpendicular with my head on her inner thigh, me with a close-up view of her pleasure, her with a wide-angle view of mine. Khadija was quite obviously entranced with seeing a man do it, as I didn’t catch her eye meeting mine even once as I kept alternating between watching her fingers and watching the pleasure on her face. She just stared, eyes completely glued between my legs. She moaned softly to herself, and kept her left hand working her clit, while her right roamed between stimulating her breasts and sliding in and out of her opening. I was close enough to her intimate area to feel the wet heat on my face, and I could easily hear the repetitive squishy noises of a woman’s pleasure.
“If I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to”, I finally said with great reluctance.
“Okay”, she said, out of breath. “You’re still my best friend’s boyfriend and I am not disrespecting her plans for today. But will you watch me cum?”
“I’d love to”.
She picked up the pressure and speed on her clit.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Honestly, Ryan, I’m really getting off on having you watching me that close-up”, she answered.
I inched my face closer, to the point that I was only inches away.
“Oh my God…”
She picked up the speed again, to the point that both of her hands were a total blur, then started to shake violently and erupted, squeezing her legs together involuntarily around my head. I was pressed hard into her vagina, feeling her fingers pressing hard and moving against my cheek with her orgasm.
After what felt like forever, she finally started to relax, and realized what she had done, noticing the wet smear on my cheek and touching it, embarrassed. “Oh Ryan, I’m sorry, are you okay?”
“I’m fine”, I said truthfully, smiling. “That looked intense.”
“It was”, she grinned back. “Definitely one of my better ones.” She lay back, spent. “Rania can cum and cum and never get tired of it. I can have multiple orgasms too, and sometimes I want to, but it’s always more intense and pleasurable for me to have one really good one. It’s definitely cool how two people can be so different.”
She shuffled down in the bed again, pulling the covers back up as I joined her. As we settled in, Khadija noticed I was still pitching a tent, and she giggled. “That will eventually go away, right?”
“Good. Save it up for Rania tonight. She’s as excited as I’ve ever seen her.”
Khadija pulled the covers up over as we curled into each other. I savoured the soft warmth of her body, listening to her breathing slowing down, her pulse returning to normal in the afterglow of her orgasm. The last thing I remember was her gently stroking my chest, because the next thing I knew, my alarm was going off and she was gone. I showered, dressed, packed up my stuff and headed down to breakfast, meeting both the girls there.
“It sounds like you’re already up to no good with your permission slip, Mr. Stud”, Rania teased quietly as I sat down with coffee, a pita and some fruit.
“Um…” I couldn’t read her tone.
“Relax, Ryan, I meant what I said to you last night.” She smiled. “Just remember we’re girls, and girls tell each other everything.”
“This is the craziest, best trip I’ve ever been on”, I answered. “You two are something else.”
“We try to be”, Khadija smiled. “One of these nights I’m going to keep Rania to myself, and you can be the one left alone in the hotel room.”
“Not fucking likely”, Rania mumbled under her breath.
We checked out of the hotel, loading up our gear into the Land Cruiser and climbing in, Rania taking shotgun this time.
“Where to, ladies?”
“Back to Sur”, Rania answered. “Then we head inland. We’ve got about a two-and-a-half-hour drive ahead.”
We left Cape End of the World in our bahis firmaları rear-view mirror, and headed back towards Sur. The conversation was pleasant and PG-rated. Rania seemed nervously excited, which I suppose I could understand. She was practically bouncing with energy, more bubbly and talkative than usual. Khadija was obviously satisfied following the morning’s activities, and she was quieter and calmer than she’d been for much of the trip so far. I, for what it’s worth, was in a state of serious sexual agitation.
From Sur we headed south on Highway 23, then turned west with the road after crossing the Hajar Mountains again. The roads out here were all two lanes, unlike the dual carriageway on the Muscat-to-Sur route, but still well-paved and relatively free from traffic. After two hours of driving, just as 23 was turning south again and the land had mostly flattened out, Rania pointed out a turn and had me head back north, climbing again into the mountains. The road gained elevation and started twisting and turning as we climbed, and then, finally, dead-ended at a sign reading WADI BANI KHALID.
“Yes, but this one is totally different. Apparently. This wasn’t on the original plan for today, but my friend who lives here heard we were driving by and told me we had to stop”, Khadija explained.
“Okay, I trust your judgment. Or hers, I guess.” I looked again at the sign. “What does this one mean?”
“‘Sons of Khalid wadi'”, Rania translated. “Got your swimsuit?”
We started walking, and Wadi Bani Khalid, at first glance, was nothing like Wadi Shab. Unlike the towering cliffs of Wadi Shab, Wadi Bani Khalid was open, airy. We were surrounded by mountains, layers of angled rock in all directions on the near horizon, but there was none of the claustrophobia of Wadi Shab. Hell, the entrance was a lovely boardwalk from the parking lot, past a pond and a small café and gift shop.
It was about a ten-minute walk to the entrance of the wadi, and when we reached it, I could suddenly see why we’d been told to come here. Wadi Bani Khalid was a swimming hole in the Tom Sawyer mould. The cliffs weren’t particularly high, but were a perfect white, smooth stone, dropping precipitously into an impossibly clear and deep pool below. There were about twenty tourists frolicking, swimming and sunning. A few teenage boys were doing dives off the cliff, about three metres into the pool below.
“It’s beautiful”, Khadija’s eyes lit up. “I’ve never seen a more perfect place to swim.”
We quickly changed, me wrapped in a towel in the more open wadi, the girls once again having prepared ahead with Islamic bathing costume under their clothes, then went in the water, warm, fresh and clear.
After about twenty minutes of floating around Rania and I were done, but Khadija wanted to stay in, so the two of us climbed up on a rock, drying off in the brilliant late-morning sun.
“I hear you’re saving your strength for me tonight”, she said matter-of-factly.
“There’s no point in even thinking about keeping secrets, are there?” I asked rhetorically.
“Only because there isn’t any need”, she responded. “I’m glad you’re saving yourself.”
We sat in silence for a while.
“You’re really okay with this morning?” I asked.
“Yes…” she answered. “I know we talked about this last night, a little, but now that it’s happened, I still feel like it’s the right decision. I mean, I don’t love the idea of you fooling around without me, but not because I don’t trust you, or her. It is because I want to be involved with everything that’s happening this week. I don’t ever want to leave your side for the time you’re here, and I hate that we can’t sleep in the same bed as we used to.
“But I owe my entire worldview, my openness, to her. Without her as a roommate, I probably wouldn’t be anything like the person I am today. She was the one encouraging me to pursue my M.Ed. degree, and to do my research trip to Canada. I was hesitant, and she practically made me go. Without having met her, I would probably be happily, ignorantly married to a man back home who treats me like garbage. And God knows I certainly wouldn’t have travelled to Canada, taken a male roommate even by accident, and wound up falling in love, real love, the way I would never have known was possible. I probably still would be intensely sexually frustrated without knowing it, the way I was as a teenager, and I never would have even had an orgasm or discovered my sexuality.
“She’s wanted this for longer than I’ve known her, and I want her to have it if it’s within my power to give it to her. She changed me into a better, more worldly, and more open person, and I want her to have this, for one week in her life, just to have a taste of what it’s like. She may never go abroad, and she may never meet a man like you. I can’t believe there are many men like you out there. So, I feel that I owe that to her, for all that she’s done for me. But I also want it, too. I wouldn’t force you on a woman you weren’t into, but you two are clearly attracted to each other, and while I’d never share my boyfriend with just anyone, I trust and love her deeply and know I have no reason to worry that you’ll leave me for her, or something.”
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