All day Eliza sat in the grotto. She miraculously escaped by hiding there when wild nomads attacked their wagon and killed her father. She was lucky that they didn't even notice her. As soon as their cart was level with the cave, her father, anticipating trouble, pushed her there, and now she imagined with horror the terrible fate that she, an attractive young girl, would fall into the hands of these rabid dogs. The whole day and night Eliza sat in a cramped grotto, afraid to lean out and do anything, but the growing thirst forced her to go in search of water at dawn. The girl did not walk for long, until in the thicket she made out a gently flowing stream. She greedily knelt down in the saving water and, taking off her clothes, washed herself. Enjoying the lightness of the body, clean and chilled, Eliza did not hear the rustle close. And as soon as she pulled on her dress, her heart skipped a beat in surprise: face to face, she found herself in front of a dark-skinned Arab. He was very handsome: with large expressive eyes, a straight nose, thin, well-shaped lips, stately.
He was even too tall and strong, and this strength emanating from him frightened and intoxicated. He was dressed in a luxurious painted dressing gown, boots with curved toes, a turban was wound around his head, shimmering with precious stones. There was no doubt that this was not one of the nomads; rather, it was some subject of the Sultan. The girl assessed all this with a quick glance, not knowing what to do. If she rushes to run, who knows, maybe it will make him excited, and, having caught up with her, brutally rape him. The black-haired handsome man silently looked at her, then approached closely, put his hand on the girl's chest. From a premonition of some kind of trouble, she flushed, her eyes filled with tears. The stranger, pulling back her dress, took her breasts in each palm, pressing, felt their elasticity. Eliza was on the verge of fainting. The horror of the Arabs who killed her father hampered her reaction and normal perception of reality. "Don't be afraid," the Arab suddenly said, "I won't hurt you. You will come with me."
Throwing a light veil over her, he put the girl in front of him on a horse, and they rode to his dwelling. All the way she felt hot breath on her neck, it worried her, but, being a virgin, she was afraid to imagine what awaited her. She did not expect any nobility from the black Arabs. The Arab's house turned out to be rich, with a small garden and a fountain in the courtyard. The Servant helped her down to the ground and escorted her into the room. It was cool inside and smelled of aromatic oils. She did not see any women among the servants. Eliza sat down on the sofa and thought about her situation. The fact that she will not be maimed or killed is clear, judging by the way she was treated. But then why is she here? How is the prisoner? A young servant brought her an Arab dress in the form of a sari, almost transparent, and a cup of an unknown drink was placed on the table in front of her. The girl threw off her dusty dress and wrapped herself in a thin cloth, not knowing how to fasten it properly. After some thought, I decided to drink a drink.
With each sip, bliss spilled over her body, bliss and indifference paralyzed her arms and legs, calmness and fog filled her. After a while, the door of the room opened and the stranger entered, also dressed in a light dressing gown. An overwhelming masculine strength emanated from him, and the languid gaze of his black eyes hypnotized. Eliza followed his movements languidly, unable to move. The drink lulled her vigilance, but not her ability to perceive and feel. "My name is Fakhir. What about you?" he asked softly, his lips touching her ear. "Eliza" - said the girl, as if in oblivion. "I will try to make you feel good with me. Nothing else needs to be said, I just want to love you, relax. Everything else - later. You are very beautiful," the Arab whispered, putting his palms on her chest, kneading her nipples. At first, lightly, and then more and more, he began to kiss her gradually exposed parts of the body, pulling off her sari.
The kiss on the lips was like an overflowing hot wave. Elise's body trembled, and she felt wetness between her legs. Fakhir's hands already penetrated into all corners of the girl's body, and she was not able to resist. Suddenly, she felt two fingers slide into her vagina and freeze, meeting the tension of the hymen. A kind of light, surprise, and renewed excitement lit up the face of the young Arab. He slowly parted the girl's legs and began to caress her vagina, thighs, clitoris with his fingers. Through the open flaps of the dressing gown, she saw his tense sticking member, but the Arab was in no hurry. He pressed his lips to her bosom and stuck his tongue into the vagina, then with quick movements began to excite the clitoris with his tongue, at the same time caressing the nipples of the breasts with his hands. Eliza moaned and writhed, never before experienced such passion.
She caught air with her mouth and arched on the couch with her legs wide apart, all in the power of a man, 3 hours ago completely unaware of his existence. Fakhir threw off his robe and lifted the girl's buttocks with his hands. Before him opened a burning, thirsty for his male organ, wet and inviting crack. The man began to slowly insert his penis into the vagina. The skin of the hole stretched and turned white. He pushed and the girl groaned in pain. The member slowly but stubbornly penetrated deep into, until it plunged into the hot abyss to the very foundation. After waiting a few seconds, Fakhir began to enter and exit the hole with sharp jerks, caressing the girl's clitoris with his fingers. The orgasm hit them with such force that they both groaned loudly almost simultaneously, biting their lips into each other. Eliza burst into tears at the sensation she had never experienced before, and she could not explain to herself whether it was pleasure or pain.
Men's hands again pressed into her vagina, this time the fingers freely penetrated inside, no longer meeting obstacles. Fakhir looked at his hands: they were covered in blood and his semen. This girl now belonged to him completely. He put his hand on her stomach and, smiling, thought about how many more pleasant moments he would have with this white-skinned captive, how many lessons he would still teach her in the art of love.