Lydia in the Harem by Philippa Masters

Author:Philippa Masters [Harem, Lydia in the]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I could no longer watch. I was almost in a come from the sight of that beautiful mouth moving towards his rampant manhood, those delicate hands cupping and stroking him. I clung to Samara, my face buried in her soft bosom, her hand smoothing my hair.

When I gathered the strength to look again, the gardener was lying on his back across the divan. Felicity was kneeling astride him. Like some ineffable expression of heavenly lust, she moved on him with a deep and speeding rhythm. Her knees were clamped against his sides. The white moons of her buttocks writhed and flexed against his darker thighs. Rocking, circling, writhing, she rode him like some wild horse, her head back, her body in an arc of passion, her breasts rolling in his hands as she ground her loins against his, and shuddered into a very obvious come.

I was so stirred up myself I could only droop on Samara's shoulder. She knew the state I was in, and put her arms about me and kissed me, and kept kissing me as she helped me back to the women's quarters, and took me into her bed.

The next morning, when she emerged from the bath (what a change a night of passion makes, for she had never allowed herself the indignity of a 'public' bath before) Felicity was coyness itself, all shy twitterings and sighs, inviting questions she naturally refused to answer; all hinted satisfaction. All she would say was that she had been sent for by the Chamberlain; that he had hardly given her a moment of peace all night, and had commanded her to return again this evening.

I could have burst with suppressed glee. Oh my proud Felicity, so prudish in her professions of morality, yet now so blithe at having been thoroughly fucked, smug at being required to return for .more - and all because her 'Chamberlain' was such an important man. If only she knew. And the joke grew and grew, for she went to 'the Chamberlain' night after night, and even boasted that he was besotted with her, could not leave her alone, nor keep his hands off her. Oh, lucky gardener! Oh, silly, self-deceiving Felicity!

Nobody dreamed of telling her the truth, of course. That would have been too cruel, would have destroyed her fragile self-confidence. And besides, it was a constant delight to watch her queening it as 'the Chamberlain's favourite', knowing all the while she was striving to give the best shag-gings she could to an under-gardener. Why, she even wondered aloud whether 'the Chamberlain' would be able to let her go when our ship was repaired, he was so in thrall to her beauty.

As for the Bey, when I managed to describe to Tiliu the night I had spent with him, she was agog with excitement and delight. She told me that she, too, wanted to experience such a lover, and for days she spent almost her whole time in the bathhouse, wandering about or lying naked in languid poses, hoping the Bey would see her and select her for his bed.

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