Part 2 -

Part 1

You woke with a start, furtively looking around the room. You were covered by a blanket and knew you were alone but it didnt help. Your dreams would be shameful in any culture but were down right dangerous in your own. Your hands were between your thighs and you knew that you'd been unconsciously touching yourself again. Recently this had been happening more regularly.

As more of your senses came online, you noticed your nipples were unbearably sensitive and your body hot. You desperately tried to replay the images that had been so vivid last night. So vivid you could actually feel them. For an ephemeral moment you could actually feel the faint impression of my cock deep in your throat. Images of your tear strewn face flashed across your mind. You could picture the saliva running down your chin, my tall and forbidden body naked in front of you.

You inhale deeply as more startling, graphic images fill your mind. You close your eyes, desperately trying to hold on to them. Like a caliedoscope, dream fragments rattle through your brain and your hands mindlessly make their way between your thighs again, this time underneath your damp shorts.

You lasily writhe and roll from one side to the other and the warm wet air of your desire escapes from underneath the blanket and washes over your face. God this pussy needs to be used.

As you run your fingers over your flooded pussy, that same faint fantasy ache can be felt inside you, as though I really was so deep inside you it made you hurt. As you explore the extent of your pleasure you writhe again as another image is accompanied by the faint sensation of hot pain across your left cheek. Your dreams are fading but you try with all your might to keep this one.

You can see yourself as though you are star of the best porn you have seen. Your big gorgeous obedidient eyes staring up at me, mascara bleeding down your face and my scolding hand reminding you who your master is. You let out an insatiable moan and dig your nails into your soft thighs. God you want that cum in your throat.

Like smoke the dreams are disappearing into the ether. You spread your legs wide and run your finger tips lightly over everything except your throbbing clit. As you graze the crease of your ass you gasp and instinctively cover your blushing face with your pillow. Last night you gave every inch of yourself to me. Every inch.

This was too much. You opened your eyes. Too shocked by your own depravity to continue.

Recently you'd started to think recently you had a problem. My beautiful white cock and things you were prepared to do for it filled your mind for hours each day. Maybe you were broken.

Reaching for your phone you hold your glistening hand to the light and take photo.

‘You visited me again last night. I was bad.’

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Thats how things had changed since the first time we'd ‘met’. We now lived in a new reality. However fleetingly, we'd touched. The genie was out of the bottle and you knew in your heart of hearts, it wasn't going back in. No, you hadn't sinned. No, you were still pure. But those depraved acts in your mind had been so viceral, and you so deeply wanted to be a whore for a white man, that there was an inevitability about where this was heading. Even if you hadn't fully committed to it yet.

In the weeks after the coffee shop I'd been suprised at how much you had chastised me for my actions. The stubborn Arab in you didn't like losing control. Yes you like to submit, but you choose when. Yes you like to tempt and to tease but you choose when. You were as annoyed about not being in control as you were scared.

I left you to it and allowed you to cool off. I knew you weren't really annoyed and honestly, I knew you would be back.

After a few weeks, sporadic pleasantries resumed and not long after I decided to test you. I sent you my number and suggested we switch to WhatsApp. Seemingly innocuous, practical even but despite our cultural divide we both knew it amounted to a big sign that read:- ‘No. Turning. Back’.

You sat and looked at the message for a while. Put it down and pretended to put it from your mind. The sickness in your stomach returned every time you looked at my number. You felt watched, judged, convinced that someone knew. You were terrified of the consequences. You played out the scenarios in your head. Your family, what they would say. All of those disgusting things you wanted to do with this man, that you would do for this man. Not just any man but a white man. Worse still, a white man that you didn't even want to marry.

The shame and your allegiance to being the woman you were expected to be won out and despite saving my number as ‘Sara’, you didn't message me. I knew not to press. I knew you'd come around.

After two days your fear was turning to indignance. You wanted me to chase and I was refusing. You cursed me for being so handsome and for what just looking at my phone number did to your body.

‘Hey.......’

After that our sporadic messages became much more frequent, building to a stream of messages each day. With each passing day you became more emboldened. You’d experienced the wild thrill of crossing one line and were impatient to cross more.

Our new connectivity meant I was with you everywhere. Now we could play everywhere.

On one occasion, at lunch with friends, you obediently placed your phone between your legs whilst I bombarded you with missed calls. On another occasion, I demanded that you did not wear underwear beneath your jeans when you met them at the mall. Despite being covered from head to toe by your abaya and jeans, you felt completely naked. As if the whole world could see you for who you really were. You'd been distracted all day and one of your friends asked what the fuck was up with you. Before you could respond another interjected:-

‘A boy’.....

Your face flushed, stomach knotted. Your worst fears realised. How the fuck did she know?

‘She's been messaging someone non-stop’

Fuck.

You went to plead your case but the words stuck in your throat and a cold sweat formed on your neck and chest.

‘I have been trying to see her phone all day’ she continued ‘But shes been too fucking sneaky’ Still you tried to speak but no words came out.

They assumed however that your embarrassment was juvenile blushing and not mortal terror. Before you could speak they began listing possible candidates. None of them White and none of them that had promised to fuck you until you cried, like the good little Arab slut you are.

You acquiesced, feigning body language that revealed they'd caught you out. That one of the 10 names they’d mentioned was correct but that you just couldn't tell.

To your delight, as the adrenaline subsided, you realised that the fear had had unexpected consequences. As you all continued to walk, you could feel your clit throbbing intensely and your pussy leaking. The seam of your jeans pressing your clit with an unbearably perfect amount of pressure with each stride. You hung back so you could message me.

As the messages came through my cock began to stir and I send you a picture of the buldge your confession has created.

‘Squeeze your legs tighter as you walk’ dutifully you do so. The group ahead of you is talking but your brain is beginning to melt out between your thighs. Their voices becoming white noise. Your pussy aches and your heart races. You want me so fucking bad and the dark side of brain wants to take this further.

Concealing your phone you type ‘I am so fucking wet’.

Instantly I reply ‘Prove it’.

I instruct you to head to the nearest store and go to the changing rooms. A few of the other girls follow, not noticing your haste. As requested you hurriedly collect some clothes from various racks and bolt to the changing rooms. You grab the stall at the farthest end, hang the clothes you will never wear and dump your handbag on the chair. As you do, your phone rings. Even after all this time we have never done more than share the odd voice note. You nervously answer. Your whole body tingles.

My voice is breathy, deep and intense ‘Stand in front of the mirror, stare at it. Imagine I am stood behind you, staring into the mirror as well. Look deeply into my eyes. Undress for me’

Your whole body reacts to my words, you squeeze your thighs in delight, throbbing with ecstasy. Your back arches, as though you can feel my torso behind you. You can't speak but I hear your heavy breathing.

‘Peel off your abaya slowly, make sure I enjoy the show’ You don't hesitate for a second. You lose yourself and indulge in the moment. Staring into the mirror, you remove the abaya from your head and then the rest of your body, gently letting it drop to the floor.

‘I want to see you completely naked. Strip for me. I want you to imagine staring at me whilst you do’ As your shirt hits the floor you are now stood in just your bra and jeans. No man has ever seen you like this. You stare dead eyed into the mirror as you listen to my voice willing you to remove your bra and display your breasts to the imaginary tall white man behind you. The sound of my voice is so overwhelming, you could cry. You begin to shake and your hands are unsteady. No one is there but you can see my naked body behind you in such vivid clarity. This feels too much and the sound of my voice makes this all too real. Going further doesn't feel just like ‘fun’. Going further feels like you are fucking someone. A real someone.

My voice urges you to slowly remove your jeans and still trembling you do so. No. turning. back.

Now you are stood completely naked in front of the mirror. Your nipples rock hard. You pluck up the courage to tell me so.

‘Can you imagine me stood behind you?’

‘Mmmhhmmm…’

‘You look so fucking beautiful’ I whisper down the phone.

‘Pull your nipples lightly and when you do imagine it is my hand reaching around and exploring you’

You do so and my cock twitches as I hear your whimper down the phone. You sense where this is going and hold the phone against your ear with your shoulder. You have wanted this for so long. You have touched yourself to our playful flirting. You have dreamt of doing things just like this to please me. You have wanted to feel as though you are allowed to release the ecstasy that has been building inside you for years, long before we even knew of each other. Why the fuck should you wait. A powerful wave was pushing you forward and despite your terror, you knew you couldn't stop, nor did you want to.

‘Good girl. That feels good doesn't it..?’

‘Mmmhhhm….’

‘Now reach down and run your fingers across your pussy. I want to hear you suck them clean’

You oblidge again, you have never tasted yourself before but you will do anything to please me.

‘Good girl’ ‘Now, I want you to cum for me. Can you do that?’

You want nothing more. Until now we had just assumed we fucked ourselves to each others words but we never knew for sure. You can hear my breathing on the other end of the phone get shorter.

‘Stare at yourself in the mirror. Slowly start to touch yourself, imagine that your arms are my big arms enveloping your body. Imagine that you can feel my rock hard cock pressed into your back. I want you to touch yourself the way you wish a white man would touch you’

You heart is bursting out of your chest. Your are taking frantic fistfulls of your tits. Playing with your nipples. You stare at yourself doing the most shameful thing for this gorgeous white man you barely know.

‘Tell me you want my white cock’

Staring at the mirror, you whisper the words as if possessed by someone else ‘I want your white cock’

‘I didn't hear you, louder’

You whisper again ‘I want your white cock’ your confidence building now. A euphoria rising inside you. Your knees buckle, your legs spread a little more, your hands roughly playing with your clit.

‘What are you?’

We've never done this dirty talk before but we both know what the answer is.

You exhale sharply ‘Your Arab slut’. Your own words sending a shudder through your body. Beads of sweat have formed on your bare chest and you can feel your orgasm building. More euphoria. Like light is filling the room. You stare at yourself, you don't recognise the woman you are looking at. It's you but a whole new person. You have stepped into a new life.

‘Can you imagine me there?’

‘Mmmhhhmm’

‘I'm inside you now. My thick white cock filling your desperate deprived pussy. Stare at yourself being fucked by a white man. Cum on my cock, I want you to watch yourself cum on my cock’

Your hands are furiously rubbing your clit as my obscene words push you over the edge into the most glorious orgasm. Your legs go weak and you stumble against the wall. Your whole body convulsing. Your breath is frantic and waves of emotion roll over your body. Intense confused feelings hit you all at once. Your brain is in a complete haze as you drop slowly to the floor, exhausted and tender. Small drops of your cum are on the floor. You are emitting something like a cry. My voice reassures you again ‘Good girl. That was so fucking hot.’ But you you remain quiet on the end of the phone.

One of the girls calls in through the curtain to ask if you are OK and your brain quickly kicks into gear.

‘I'm fine, I'll be out in a minute’

You say you had better go, I laugh and agree.

‘You want to do one last naughty thing?’ I ask

You are nervous. You do not have time, your friends are waiting and honestly you are not sure how you feel about what just happened. You oblige to ask me what I had in mind.

‘Put on the leggings you picked up. Pull them tight into yourself. If you want to see me for real, send me the picture of the mess you make. If you don't, then I completely understand. That was a lot of fun but I better let you go. I hope you're ok.’

With that I hung up and left you flushed, naked and alone. You looked briefly in the mirror, quickly turning away, more than a little ashamed that you had got so carried away and been so careless.

A few more seconds went by and you looked at the clothes on the rack. You grab the leggings and dab them on the floor. Holding them in your hand, you contemplate….

Better to have the picture just in case.