The hum of the airplane engines still vibrated in my ears, a low thrum that mirrored the nervous flutter in my chest. The air in this new city felt different, heavier, charged with an energy I couldn't quite place. I clutched my carry-on, the fabric of my abaya a familiar comfort, a shield against the unfamiliar world outside the airport. Malik's words echoed in my mind, a strange blend of command and dark permission. *"Enjoy yourself, Areej. Make sure to tell me everything. And send those pictures."*
A taxi ride later, the city lights blurred into streaks of color. My destination, the address Jonn sent, resolved itself into a towering hotel, sleek and modern. I paid the driver, my hands trembling slightly as I stepped onto the polished marble of the lobby. The scent of expensive perfume and fresh flowers filled the air, a stark contrast to the sterile office where Malik and I had sealed our monstrous bargain.
My heart hammered against my ribs as the elevator ascended, each floor a click closer to the unknown. Jonn. The name itself was a physical sensation, a jolt of anticipation and fear. I hadn't called him, hadn't wanted him to meet me at the airport. This clandestine journey felt too raw, too vulnerable to share with the public eye. I needed this moment of solitude, this brief reprieve before the inevitable.
The hallway was hushed, carpeted, absorbing the sound of my footsteps. Room 1407. The numbers seemed to glow, drawing me closer. I paused, my hand hovering over the door, a sudden wave of nausea washing over me. What was I doing? This wasn't me. This wasn't the Areej I knew, the one who navigated corporate politics with polite composure, the one who upheld tradition and faith. Yet, a deeper, more primal part of me pulsed with a strange, dark excitement.
I knocked, a soft rap that felt deafening in the silence. The sound echoed, then faded. I waited, holding my breath.
A click. The door swung inward, revealing a wall of muscle, a towering silhouette against the softly lit room. He filled the doorway, a colossal presence. Jonn. He was even bigger than the pictures, a dark, sculpted god, his shoulders broad, his chest a solid slab. My gaze travelled up, past the defined jawline, to his eyes. They were dark, intense, burning with an unspoken hunger that made my knees weak.
He didn't speak. He just watched me for a long moment, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. Then, his hand shot out, not gently, but with a firm grip on my arm. He pulled me inside, the door swinging shut with a soft thud behind me, sealing us in.
I stumbled, caught off guard, my breath catching in my throat. Before I could even register the shock, his other hand reached up, swift and deliberate. The delicate fabric of my hijab slid from my head, falling to the floor like a discarded whisper. My hair, unbound, cascaded around my shoulders.
His eyes, dark and unblinking, devoured my face. He leaned in, his scent, musky and distinctly masculine, filling my senses. His lips, full and soft, descended on mine, a forceful claim. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was deep, invasive, his tongue immediately probing, demanding entry.
My mind reeled. Panic flared, a cold terror gripping me. This was too fast, too much. I tried to pull back, a faint whimper escaping my lips. But his arms, strong and unyielding, wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard body. He was solid, unmovable. My struggles were futile.
Then, slowly, something shifted. The initial shock began to recede, replaced by a strange, intoxicating warmth. His lips were soft, yet firm, his tongue exploring every crevice of my mouth. A jolt, electric and raw, shot through me. My body, against my will, began to soften. My hands, which had been pushing against his chest, now found purchase on his shoulders, gripping the thick muscle. I found myself responding, my lips parting, my tongue tentatively meeting his.
He groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through my body. He deepened the kiss, his hips pressing against mine, a hard ridge already evident against my stomach. My initial panic dissolved into a dizzying surrender. I lost myself in the kiss, in the overwhelming sensation of his body against mine, in the sheer, undeniable reality of him.
He finally broke the kiss, a soft *smack* echoing in the quiet room. My lips throbbed, swollen and tingling. My breath came in ragged gasps, my eyes fluttering open to meet his. He was still smiling, a possessive glint in his dark gaze.
"DesertRose," he rumbled, his voice deep, a rich baritone that sent shivers down my spine. "You're even more beautiful in person."
I couldn't speak, could only stare, my mind a jumble of sensations. He released me, and I swayed slightly, my legs feeling like jelly.
"Come here." He took my hand, his fingers long and strong, and led me deeper into the room. It was a spacious suite, tastefully decorated, with a king-sized bed dominating the center. A faint scent of his cologne, mixed with something else, something primal, hung in the air.
He sat me down on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving mine. Then, he knelt before me, his massive frame dwarfing me. His hands went to the buttons of my abaya, slowly, deliberately, unfastening each one. His touch was light, yet I felt the heat of his fingers through the fabric.
"Malik wants to see everything," I whispered, my voice barely audible, a desperate attempt to ground myself in the twisted reality of this encounter.
Jonn chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Oh, he will. Every inch."
He peeled the abaya from my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Next, my modest dress. He ran his hands up my arms, a slow, tantalizing caress, before pulling the dress over my head. I stood before him in my delicate lace bra and panties, my fair skin a stark contrast to his dark hands.
His eyes lingered on my breasts, full and straining against the lace, then dropped lower, to the faint curve of my stomach, the dark triangle between my legs. He reached out, his fingers tracing the outline of my bra, then dipping beneath the lace, caressing the soft underside of my breast.
"Perfect," he murmured, his thumb brushing against my nipple, which instantly hardened under his touch.
He removed my bra, then my panties, his movements slow, deliberate, each touch a spark igniting a new fire within me. I stood naked before him, exposed, vulnerable, yet a strange, powerful sensation of liberation began to bloom.
He rose, his eyes burning into mine. "Now, it's my turn."
He stripped off his clothes with a casual grace, revealing a body that was pure power. Broad shoulders, a sculpted chest, a flat, hard stomach. And then, my eyes dropped. My breath hitched. He was even bigger than the images, a dark, thick column of flesh, already engorged and straining, pulsing with a life of its own. It was a monstrous, magnificent sight.
He stepped closer, his body a dark shadow against my pale skin. He reached out, his hands cupping my face, tilting it up.
"Malik wants to watch," he said, his voice a low growl. "He wants to see you take this."
He moved, and suddenly, his immense penis was pressed against my cheek, its head nudging my lips. My eyes widened, a gasp escaping me. This was it. The moment I had both dreaded and secretly craved.
"Open up, DesertRose," he commanded, his voice firm, leaving no room for refusal.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, then, with a deep breath, I parted my lips. He pushed, gently at first, then more firmly. The thick, dark shaft slid into my mouth, filling it, stretching it. I gagged, my throat constricting, but he held my head steady, his eyes locked on mine.
"Lick it," he ordered, his voice a low thrum. "Show me you want it."
My tongue, hesitant at first, moved, tasting him. He was earthy, musky, a primal taste that was both repulsive and intoxicating. I licked, my tongue circling the thick head, then moving down the shaft. He groaned, a deep sound of pleasure. My body, once rigid with fear, now began to thrum with a strange, dark excitement. This was real. This was happening.
He pulled back, his penis slick and glistening from my mouth. He then led me to the bed, pushing me gently onto my back. My eyes, still wide, met his. There was no gentleness in his gaze now, only raw, unadulterated lust.
"You're mine now," he whispered, his body hovering over mine. "All three holes. Every inch."
He started with my pussy, his fingers exploring, teasing. He found my clit, circling it, flicking it, sending sparks of pleasure through me. I arched my back, a moan escaping my lips. His fingers delved deeper, finding my wetness, spreading it.
"So wet," he murmured, his voice husky. "Ready for me."
Then, he positioned himself. His immense cock, dark and pulsating, was at my entrance. I gasped, seeing the sheer size of it, knowing it was going to stretch me to my limits. He pushed, slowly, deliberately. The head, thick and blunt, parted my lips, then slid inside. I cried out, a sharp, raw sound of pain and pleasure. It was tight, so incredibly tight, every inch of me screaming.
He paused, letting me adjust, his eyes on my face, watching my expression. "Too much?" he asked, though his tone suggested he didn't care for the answer.
"No," I choked out, a strange defiance rising within me. "More."
He pushed again, inch by agonizing inch, stretching me, filling me. I felt myself tear, a sharp sting, quickly followed by a searing pleasure. My body convulsed, my fingers digging into the sheets. He continued until his massive balls slapped against my ass, a wet *thwack* that echoed in the room. I screamed, a guttural cry of pure, unadulterated bliss.
"He's… he's so big!" I cried out, my voice raw, my eyes wide and unfocused. "He's filling me, Malik! Oh God, he's filling me!" The words tumbled out, unbidden, a desperate plea for my husband to witness my surrender.
Jonn began to thrust, a slow, powerful rhythm that shook my entire body. His huge cock slid in and out, a mesmerizing dance of dark flesh against pale. The wet, squelching sounds filled the room, punctuated by my gasps, my moans, my cries of utter surrender. He pounded into me, relentlessly, his hips a blur, each thrust sending me spiraling further into a vortex of sensation.
I felt myself approaching the edge, a delicious tension building deep inside me. He paused, pulling out almost completely, then plunging back in, deep, hard, hitting my cervix. I screamed, my body arching violently, a torrent of pleasure exploding through me. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, begging for more.
He continued, his pace relentless, pushing me past my limits, making me climax again and again. My pussy gripped him, milking him, urging him deeper. He roared, a primal sound, and then, a hot gush of liquid filled me, thick and warm. He collapsed onto me, his heavy weight pinning me to the bed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
We lay there for a moment, entwined, my body still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm. He pulled out, his cock, still hard, sliding from my slick pussy. He rolled onto his side, pulling me with him, my head resting on his chest.
"That was just the beginning, DesertRose," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
He moved again, pulling me over him, placing me on my hands and knees. My ass was in the air, presented to him. He came up behind me, his hand parting my ass cheeks. I tensed, knowing what was coming.
"Malik wants this too," he murmured, his fingers teasing my asshole, circling the tight opening.
I whimpered, a mixture of fear and anticipation. He pushed, slowly, deliberately. The initial pain was sharp, intense, making me cry out. But he didn't stop. He pushed, inch by agonizing inch, stretching me, filling me again. My body fought it, but a deeper part of me, the part that craved his dominance, surrendered.
"So tight," he grunted, his voice thick with exertion. "You're a good girl."
He began to thrust, a slow, powerful rhythm, just as he had in my pussy. The sensation was alien, yet strangely intoxicating. My ass clenched around him, adapting, accepting. I moaned, my body writhing, my hips rocking back to meet his thrusts. He pounded into me, relentlessly, filling my ass with his immense cock, pushing me deeper into the abyss of pleasure.
Then, he pulled out, leaving me gasping, my ass aching, stretched to its limits. He flipped me over, pushing my legs up, spreading them wide. He leaned down, his tongue flicking out, circling my clit, then delving into my pussy, tasting his own cum. I moaned, my body still trembling, my vision blurred.
He moved to my mouth again, his penis, still hard, nudging my lips. "Now, take the rest, DesertRose."
I opened my mouth, my throat already raw. He pushed, and I gagged, tears springing to my eyes. But I took it, deep into my throat, gagging and sucking, my eyes fixed on his. He thrust into my mouth, a slow, deliberate rhythm, filling my throat with his immense cock, making me choke and gasp. My body convulsed, a final, intense orgasm shaking me to my core.
He pulled out, his cock slick with my saliva and his cum. He then came over my face, his hips bucking, a thick stream of cum erupting from him, covering my cheeks, my forehead, my hair, my open mouth. I swallowed, the taste metallic and salty, a bitter, yet strangely exhilarating, end to the first round.
He collapsed beside me, his arm heavy across my stomach. I lay there, spent, my body aching, covered in his cum, my three holes burning, stretched, filled. The room spun, yet a strange sense of peace, of utter surrender, washed over me. I had done it. I had given myself to him, completely. And Malik had watched.
"Send him the proof," Jonn murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction.
I fumbled for my phone, my fingers still trembling. I took a selfie, my face flushed, my eyes glazed, his cum smeared across my cheek, and the faint outline of his dark arm visible in the background. I sent it to Malik, a silent, defiant message. Then, I closed my eyes, drifting into a heavy, exhausted sleep, Jonn's arm a warm, possessive weight across my body.
***
The morning light, filtered through the hotel room curtains, painted the room in soft hues. I stirred, a dull ache throbbing between my legs, in my ass, and in my jaw. My body felt heavy, used, yet a strange, lingering warmth spread through me. I shifted, and a sudden, sharp jolt made me gasp.
Jonn. He was already awake, propped up on one elbow, his dark eyes fixed on me. His immense penis, already hard and engorged, was pressing against my pussy. He didn't speak. He just looked at me, a silent question in his gaze.
I met his eyes, a blush creeping up my neck. My body, still raw from the night before, already responded, a faint warmth spreading between my legs.
"Good morning, DesertRose," he rumbled, his voice low and husky. He pushed, and the head of his cock, thick and blunt, slid into my pussy. I cried out, a small gasp, my body tensing. It was still tight, but not as painful as the first time.
He began to thrust, a slow, deliberate rhythm, waking me up with his immense presence. My hips, almost instinctively, began to move with his. The ache slowly transformed into a familiar, intense pleasure. He pounded into me, his body a dark, powerful force, consuming me, filling me, making me moan.
"Malik's waiting," I whispered, my voice thick with lust, my body already arching against his. "He wants to see."
Jonn grinned, a flash of white teeth against his dark skin. He reached for my phone, propped it up against the headboard, and initiated a video call. My face, flushed and bare, filled the screen, my body already writhing under Jonn's relentless thrusts.
Malik's face appeared, his eyes wide, a mixture of shock and perverse excitement in his gaze. He said nothing, just watched, his breathing ragged.
"Tell him what you want, DesertRose," Jonn commanded, his hips slamming into me, making me cry out.
"Malik," I gasped, my voice raw, my eyes meeting his through the screen. "He's so big! He's fucking me so hard! Do you like what you see?"
Malik nodded, his mouth slightly agape, his hand already moving to his crotch.
Jonn roared, a primal sound, and then, his thrusts became even more powerful, faster, deeper. I screamed, my body convulsing, my orgasm tearing through me, hot and intense. He came with me, his cum filling me again, hot and thick.
He pulled out, his cock, still hard, sliding from me with a wet *shlick*. He ended the call, then scooped me up into his arms.
"Time for a shower," he murmured, carrying me towards the bathroom.
The bathroom was luxurious, all marble and chrome. He set me down in the large walk-in shower, the water already running, hot and steamy. He stepped in after me, his body a dark, powerful presence under the cascading water.
"Clean you up," he whispered, his hands moving over my body, washing away the cum, the sweat, the residue of our passion. But his touch was not entirely chaste. His fingers lingered, exploring, teasing, finding every sensitive spot. He kissed my neck, his lips tracing a path down my collarbone, to my breasts, his tongue flicking at my nipples under the spray.
He pushed me against the cool, tiled wall, his body pressing against mine. My wet skin slid against his, a sensual friction. He lifted my leg, wrapping it around his waist, and then, his cock, still hard, found my pussy again.
"Right here," he breathed, pushing into me. The water streamed around us, blurring the edges of the world. His thrusts were powerful, rhythmic, filling the shower with the sounds of our bodies colliding, our moans mingling with the rush of water. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders, my orgasm shaking me, making my legs tremble.
After the shower, he wrapped me in a thick, fluffy towel. I felt clean, yet still utterly consumed by him. He led me back to the bed, pulling out his phone.
"Malik needs more proof," he said, and without waiting for a response, he snapped a picture of me, naked, my hair wet, a faint blush on my cheeks, my eyes still heavy with passion. He sent it.
I dressed in my conservative clothes, the abaya and hijab feeling alien, restrictive after the freedom of my nakedness. Jonn watched me, a smirk playing on his lips.
"No," he said, his voice firm. "Not today. Not with me."
I turned, confused. "But… I don't have anything else."
"We'll fix that," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "We're going shopping."
He pulled out his phone again, snapping another picture of me, fully dressed, looking prim and proper. He sent it to Malik. A few seconds later, my phone buzzed. A message from Malik: *Tell her to change. She's with you, not at work.*
A strange sense of power bloomed within me. Malik, my husband, was giving me permission, *ordering* me, to shed my inhibitions.
"Malik says I should change," I said, a faint smile touching my lips.
Jonn chuckled. "Good. But you don't have anything suitable. We'll get you some."
We left the hotel, me in my abaya, Jonn in a stylish, casual outfit that emphasized his powerful physique. The mall was a bustling hub of activity, a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds. Jonn led me directly to a high-end clothing store, bypassing the modest sections I usually frequented.
"Try this," he said, holding up a pair of form-fitting jeans and a sleeveless, scoop-neck top that showed a hint of cleavage.
I stared at the clothes, my cheeks flushing. "I can't wear that. It's… too revealing."
Jonn raised an eyebrow. "Malik said to shed your inhibitions, didn't he? Besides, you're with me. You'll look stunning." He pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of me holding the clothes, and sent it to Malik.
My phone buzzed almost immediately. *Try it on, Areej. Let him see.*
A wave of defiance, mixed with a thrill of excitement, washed over me. "Fine," I said, taking the clothes.
In the changing room, I stared at my reflection. The jeans hugged my curves, accentuating my hips and long legs. The top clung to my breasts, revealing more cleavage than I had ever shown in public. It felt scandalous, exhilarating. I took a picture, a shy smile on my face, and sent it to Malik.
Jonn, meanwhile, was having a field day. He brought me dress after dress – a slinky cocktail dress, a short denim skirt, leather pants, a form-fitting jumpsuit. Each time, I tried them on, feeling more and more liberated. Each time, he took a picture, sometimes with me posing, sometimes with his arm around my waist, pulling me close. And each time, Malik's approval came through, sometimes with a terse command, sometimes with an explicit instruction to show more skin.
"Now, for something special," Jonn said, pulling me towards a lingerie store, its windows displaying an array of lacy, barely-there garments.
My heart hammered. "Jonn, I can't. This is too much."
He just grinned, pulling me inside. He selected several tiny bikinis, thongs, and sheer negligees. "Try these on. Malik will love them."
In the changing room, the tiny strips of fabric felt almost obscene. I tried on a vibrant red string bikini, my fair skin a stark contrast to the bold color. It revealed everything, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. I stared at my reflection, a mix of shock and a strange, powerful allure. I snapped a quick picture, my face flushed, and sent it to Malik.
A few seconds later, Jonn's voice boomed from outside the changing room. "Malik says he likes that one. He wants to see you in it. Now."
My eyes widened. "See me? What do you mean?"
The door to the changing room swung open, revealing Jonn, his eyes dark with desire. He stepped in, closing the door behind him. The space was tiny, cramped.
"He wants to see us," Jonn murmured, his hands already on my hips, pulling me close. "Right here."
Before I could protest, his lips were on mine, deep and demanding. He lifted me, pressing me against the wall, my legs wrapping around his waist. His cock, already hard, nudged against the flimsy fabric of the bikini bottom. He pushed, and the thin strings parted, his immense penis sliding into me, filling me, stretching me.
I gasped, my body arching, my head hitting the wall. The rough fabric of the bikini top chafed against my nipples. He thrust into me, hard and fast, in the tiny, confined space, making me cry out, my moans muffled against his shoulder. He pulled out, then plunged back in, again and again, until my orgasm tore through me, a raw, powerful release. He came with me, his cum hot and thick inside me.
We emerged from the store, me in a pair of stylish jeans and a fitted top, a newfound confidence radiating from me. Jonn carried a bag filled with my new, daring clothes, a satisfied smirk on his face. He pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of us, my hand intertwined with his, and sent it to Malik.
"Now for a date," he announced.
He took me to a charming, quiet bistro, a world away from the bustling mall. We sat at a secluded table, the soft lighting and hushed conversations creating an intimate atmosphere. He ordered wine, and I found myself drinking it, savoring the taste, the warmth spreading through me. We talked, about his life, about my secret desires, about everything and nothing. He made me laugh, a genuine, uninhibited laugh I hadn't realized I possessed.
Later, we went to a cinema, his arm around me, his hand resting on my thigh. He leaned in during the movie, his lips finding mine, a long, lingering French kiss that made my toes curl. Then, an adventure land, where he held my hand as we rode thrilling attractions, my screams of delight echoing in the night. He was playful, attentive, everything I had secretly wished for in a partner. And all the while, he was subtly documenting our day, sending pictures to Malik, a silent reminder of our twisted bargain.
As the night drew to a close, he drove us back to the hotel. The air in the car was thick with anticipation. Back in the suite, he didn't waste time. He pulled me into his arms, his lips finding mine, a passionate, demanding kiss that left me breathless. He stripped me of my new clothes, then his own, our bodies colliding on the bed with an urgency that bordered on violence.
He pushed me onto my stomach, my ass in the air. He parted my cheeks, his tongue flicking out, circling my asshole, then delving in. I gasped, my body arching, a wave of pleasure washing over me. He licked, sucked, his tongue teasing, exploring, pushing me to the brink. Then, he pushed his massive cock into my ass, deep and hard, stretching me, filling me, making me cry out. He pounded into me, relentlessly, his hips a blur, making me scream, my body writhing under his powerful thrusts.
He flipped me over, pulling my legs up, spreading them wide. He positioned his immense penis at my pussy.
"Malik wants to watch," he growled, his eyes burning into mine. "Tell him what you want."
He pulled out his phone, initiated a video call, and propped it up, Malik's face appearing on the screen.
"Malik," I gasped, my voice raw, my eyes meeting his through the screen. "He's going to fuck me! He's going to fill me! Right now!"
Jonn roared, a primal sound, and then, he pushed into me, deep and hard, burying his immense cock inside me. I screamed, my body convulsing, my orgasm tearing through me, hot and intense. He pounded into me, relentlessly, his hips a blur, making me cry out, my body writhing under his powerful thrusts. He came with me, his cum filling me again, hot and thick.
After, he pulled me up, leading me to a closet. Inside, hanging pristine, was a white wedding dress. It was unlike any traditional gown. The fabric was sheer, revealing my nipples, and the crotch was completely open, designed to expose my pussy.
"Put it on," he commanded, his eyes gleaming. "Tonight, you're my bride."
I stared at the dress, a strange mix of shock and a twisted excitement washing over me. I slipped it on, the sheer fabric clinging to my curves, my nipples clearly visible through the lace. The open crotch left my pussy exposed, throbbing, still wet from our lovemaking.
He pulled out his phone again, initiating another video call to Malik. I stood before the camera, a perverse bride, my body a canvas of lust and surrender.
"Malik," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion, "I'm your wife. But tonight, I'm Jonn's bride. Look at me. Look at what he's made me."
Jonn stepped behind me, his massive cock, already hard, pushing through the open crotch of the dress, nudging against my wet pussy. He wrapped his arms around me, his lips finding my neck.
"Tell him, DesertRose," he growled, his voice a low rumble. "Tell him you're mine."
"I'm yours, Jonn," I breathed, my eyes meeting Malik's through the screen. "Your bride. Your slut. And he's watching."
Jonn began to thrust, slowly at first, then faster, harder, pushing into me through the wedding dress. I cried out, my body arching, my orgasm tearing through me, hot and intense. He came with me, his cum filling me again, hot and thick, spilling onto the sheer fabric of the dress.
Malik's face on the screen was a mask of raw desire, his hand furiously working his cock. He was jerking off, his eyes glued to the sight of his wife being fucked in a wedding dress by another man, his cum coating my body.
"Thank you, Malik," I whispered, my voice hoarse, my eyes glazed with pleasure, "Thank you for letting me have this." The words were true, laced with a perverse gratitude. The darkness had swallowed me whole, and I had never felt more alive.