impaling hardness slipped easily into her cum-drenched cunt and the velvety warmth of her pussy walls once again clasped and sucked around him, urging him to fuck her into the bed without mercy or thought of injury.
'That's it,' Leila chanted from beside them. 'Yes, fuck her like a crazy man!'
Claire's cunt milked him into a hardness and rigidity the young husband had never felt before, her hips practically spinning in place as he groaned and lurched over her. He held his wife tight around her back, flattening her huge, ecstatically quivering tits against his chest, not even caring if she could breathe.
And then he came!
Like an erupting volcano, he spewed his hot cum streams deep up into her tightening cunt, filling her all the way to her tenderly sucking pussy lips and fountaining more of the endless white jets of cock-juice until it felt as though, he would burst her open!
'Jesus!' He fell off her, his body dropping down heavily between the two young women.
The night became wilder, more. abandoned. Half the time, they didn't care what they did, and half the time Claire couldn't tell who was doing what to whom. All she knew was that she was getting fucked and sucked to her heart's content – fucked enough to make up for the past few years!
Chapter 6
The next morning, Claire woke late. She moved her head slightly but stopped after a moment because it seemed to have triggered a chorus of small aching pains throughout her body. She held her head still and opened her eyes slowly. There were no other sounds in the room, no breathing but her own, and after a few moments she sat up carefully, holding her head, and looked around the room. She was alone. She slid out of bed, noticing that her body was bruised and the insides of her thighs red and chafed. She found her robe, put it on, and stumbled into the bathroom. No Grant there, either. She returned to the bedroom and saw the two liquor bottles and brimming ashtrays, mute evidence of the wild orgy the night before. The shame-seized blonde sank onto the rumpled bed with a groan, her head in her hands. Then she jumped up, acutely aware of the obscene fucking that had happened here on the bed… on the floor!
'Grant?' she called, wandering to the balcony and squinting in the violent white light reflecting off the bay.
His confused young wife remembered he'd said something about needing some more data for his geological survey from the library and figured he must have gone out after only a few hours' sleep. She saw by the alarm clock it was noon. What time had they quit fucking last night – rather, this morning? If she remembered correctly, it had been Grant who had urged the whole thing on, who had brought Leila to the room and insisted on Claire lying on the bed naked. Yet, after the shameless things she'd done, could she ever look her husband in the face again? And what was his relationship with the Arab girl? How had he induced her to behave so lewdly?
She was going to have to think very hard about that question, she thought, but later. Right now, it was more important that she pack up this hotel room and be ready to leave when Grant returned from his business conference. There was no point in staying in Dhahran when they could settle their differences just as easily in Ad Dammam.
Grant was so cheerful on their way home, almost as if nothing had happened the night before. She was amazed at him as, during their first night home, he'd even tried to fuck her, but she'd turned coldly away from him, pretending she was asleep, still miffed about his cruel humiliation of her.
Today, not having anything better to do, she'd gone out with him to a site he was surveying along the coast of the Persian Gulf, and had spent most of the afternoon watching the geological crew take samples from the area for further study.
The hot shimmering air of Arabia felt good on her bruised skin, and the pretty young housewife was in a bright mood. From time to time, her dark-haired husband would break off from his work and engage her in conversation, but she only pretended interest.
Secretly, she was plotting her revenge for what he had done to her. If Grant Wells thought he could get away with what he'd made her do, the night he'd brought Leila to their hotel room, he was out of his mind. Whatever she had done in the past with Lyle Rhodes or Hamid, it had never been as bad as what he had done to her. What had happened at Francine's house, she thought back to that night, had been a mistake. She hadn't meant to put on an exhibition in front of her husband. But next time, the situation would be different, she thought. Next time… there would be no mistakes, and I'll shock the daylights out of my dear husband!
She looked over to where the men were working. All day, she had been admiring two young Arab men who were working at the far side of the survey site.
She didn't hide her suggestive glances as they passed by where she was sitting to collect geological equipment from the jeeps. The curvaceous blonde would smile as they trudged past her, making it obvious she enjoyed looking at their rippling chest muscles and their bronzed skin.
In the late afternoon, Grant drove back to the compound to pick up some new equipment. The older of the two Arab men, seeing Claire's husband was gone, dropped to the ground beside her. She looked around and saw some of the geologists were still working hard, and others were packing up their gear, making ready for the short ride back to the compound.
The young Arab man was drinking a bottle of beer. He offered Claire a sip. 'No, thank you,' she at first refused, then decided she was thirsty and took a gulp.
'You very pretty,' he said.
'Thank you,' she said. 'I didn't know you could speak English.'
'We learn from the work here.'
'Oh.'
'When your husband come back?'
'I don't know. Why… do you ask?' She felt the color come to her cheeks.
'Nothing,' he said.
'What's your name?' She tugged her skirt gently across the full smoothness of her thighs.
'Makumud,' he said. 'My friend name is Khalid. He think you are very pretty. He said to me, she is nice girl. You no touch American woman with blonde hair like that. Let me show Khalid he is crazy.'
Makumud's hand caressed Claire's forearm, making her skin tingle deliciously as he moved his fingers down lightly to her wrist.
'Now Khalid knows differently.' She laughed.
The other Arab came over and stood in front of Claire and Makumud. He was taller and more strongly built than Makumud, Both young men couldn't have been more than twenty years old. Their bodies glistened in the afternoon sun, showing off smooth sculpted muscles that had been developed through years of strenuous labor.
'Khalid.' Claire smiled at the grinning young man standing in front of them. 'Why are you laughing like that?'
'You both funny,' he said.
'I tell her she come with us. We show the Hanin things she never seen before.'
Khalid laughed. 'Makumud, she come with us. We show her everything!'
Moments later Claire, accompanied by the two young Arab workers, was walking the short distance to the beach and a small house. The house must have been there for years, for it was literally falling apart. The two young men had to help Claire, whose skimpy sundress made climbing over the fallen stones difficult. She could feel their hands squeezing her smoothly curved ass-cheeks as they picked their way through the rubble to the inner room.
Finally they reached the inside and from the half-blocked window she could see what seemed like the entire stretch of the Persian Gulf.
'It's really lovely,' she said.
Khalid laughed. Claire's eyes shifted uneasily from the magnificent view to the taller boy. His rounded features seemed to be mocking her. But it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Though it didn't really matter, she knew what she was thinking, and it wasn't about the view.
'Hanin,' Makumud said. 'Let me kiss you. I want to kiss you on your pretty face!'
