Munira's Bottle by Yousef Al-Mohaimeed & Anthony Calderbank

Author:Yousef Al-Mohaimeed & Anthony Calderbank
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: I.B.Tauris
Published: 2004-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

24

No air raid sirens had sounded in the skies of the gloomy, downcast city for two days. In the overwhelming silence of the house Ali’s fingers caressed my flowing hair like the teeth of a comb, and his breath encircled my neck as he mumbled passionate, incomprehensible words. My eyes and my heart were strained toward the door of the men’s majlis for fear that it might burst open at any moment, though neither of us expected that to happen. My brother Muhammad was out of town supervising an exhibition of Islamic audiocassettes, now that he was the owner of the largest company producing Islamic audiocassettes and books in the country. Young Saad had asked Father’s permission to go out into the desert with his friends. Mother and father were fast asleep, and young Mona would be trying on her dresses, underwear, and heavy perfumes before finishing off with a good dance to “At least I have God, my love” by Muhammad Abdu, and diving naked and panting under a hot shower.

As I said goodbye to al-Dahhal at the gate of the villa, the door was open just wide enough to pop my head around while Ali stood outside on the top step and stole a goodnight kiss before taking his leave. As I closed the door of the house, I motioned to him to close the gate.

Around midnight, I stood in front of the dressing table mirror with its ornate dark brown wooden frame, wearing a lilac silk negligee trimmed with lace and slit up the left side. Just as I was spraying some Chanel Mademoiselle on my neck, I heard a faint tap on the bedroom door. At first I thought I was imagining it but then the light tapping of a knuckle continued. I trembled a little but quickly put on my long silk dressing gown and hurried over to the door, turned the key in the lock, and suddenly saw his beaming face. I almost fainted.

“How did you get in?” I demanded.

“Through the front door, of course,” he said as he closed the door and confidently locked it behind him.

“How?”

“I didn’t leave. I stayed in the yard.”

“So how did you know where my room was? You could have knocked on my father’s door by mistake, you crazy thing!”

“Ha ha ha, don’t worry,” he said as he embraced me then pounced on my face with his lips. I tried to avoid the rough bristles on his chin. I was still in shock.

I pulled myself away from him and stood in front of the mirror so that I could rearrange my hair and adjust the silk dressing gown that had slid off my shoulders. But al-Dahhal stood behind me. He was a little taller than me and he embraced me from behind, crossing his arms around my neck, pressing his rough hands against my breasts and gently squeezing the two little buds. I felt my body gush with readiness, an awesome shudder rousing its pores and hidden places. I felt as though I was entering a trance of overwhelming pleasure.

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