My hands massaged her beautiful ass, while I kissesd her stomach. Her aroma was intoxicating. Soon my tongue was parting her pouting pussy lips. She was grinding her pussy against my face. I kept pulling her closer to me, drawing her clit in my mouth, circling my tongue around, alternating directions, from clockwise to counter clockwise. I could feel her body tensing, and she began to shake like a fish out of water. She said she had a series of multiple orgasms that rocked her body.We lay on the floor, and after a brief rest she took off my pants, and stared at my hard cock. She stroked it slowly, all the time looking me in the eyes. She cupped my balls in one hand, and began to lick my swollen cock head. Her soft hands, coupled with her velvet tongue had me close to the edge. We shifted positions a bit, and we were still on the floor, near a baby grand piano.I was on my knees, straddling her hot body. She asked to stroke my cock. After giving myself a few strokes, she took over the. What I remember most about her are her eyes. Huge, dark, wide open, unblinking, they looked at me, her huge dark eyes looked into mine, and I looked back at her, my whole body as immobile as she was, for the whole time that my father and I stayed with the Bey, or so it seems to me in my memory.Even then I understood that the Bey had made her a token not so much of his power, but of his spiritual sublimity, his elevation above the profanities of common human needs — he could afford, without missing something, without thinking twice, on a whim, to take away such a beautiful girl’s hands, mouth and vagina, to take away all her uses, to have his acceptance of her uselessness displayed. Only later did I understand that her suffering was her use for him. But even then, on this first visit, as our eyes locked, young as I was, I felt a strange stirring between my legs. I saw her only one more time, a few weeks later. I noticed the differences. She was still beautiful, but she had lost weight.
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