A story I wrote for an Arab girl with a white man kink:-
We’ve both been chatting for months, some dirty, some just about life. You mention you’re going to be in town over the weekend with friends. For both of us it has always been about the fantasy, the reality of meeting up has never seemed possible or necessarily desired. But I have a plan. I tell you that we should see each other from a distance. I give you instructions and to message me when you’re sat with your friends at a cafe in the mall.
Time goes on and we message only once or twice, I figure you are scared, so I don’t press it.
However, on the morning we arranged, I get a message. You describe what you are wearing and that you will be sat in the Cafe at 5 pm just as I had asked. I respond by telling you I will be wearing a blue jacket that I will remove and throw over the arm of my chair before I sit down. I will order an espresso and a dessert. I’ve never sent you pictures but I’ve described how I look. Your mind begins to race.
The entire time you are in the mall you are distracted, heart racing, scared you’ve made a bad decision but excited by the thrill. And fuck are you horny.
Just after 4 I send you a picture of a lingerie set from the window of Victoria’s Secret. “You on your knees, wearing this, my cock between those beautiful lips”. You look sideways to make sure your friends have not seen, you feel your cheeks go red and your body get hot. I’m already there. You look around wondering if I’m watching you.
Just before 5 you nearly quit and not go through with it. You make your excuses, go to the bathroom and try to clear your head. As you undress you see just how excited you really are. Your pussy is soaked and you sit looking at the bathroom door imagining I am stood in front of you, my cock deep in the back of your throat. With that thought in your mind, you pull yourself together and commit to the instructions I have given you.
When you get to the cafe, your friends are talking but you barely hear a word they say, your eyes always scanning the scene, your chest tight, breath short and hot between your legs. This is seriously fun.
At 5.07 a tall white guy with dark hair, smartly swept back, walks into the restaurant and orders an espresso and cake. It has to be me. You can’t see me clearly, you have your back to that corner of the room.
Your phone vibrates.
Subtly you pick it up and read the message.
“Corner table, by the mirror.”
You’re convinced your friend saw the message, so you quickly close your phone and wait a moment before you turn around.
You instantly catch my eye and our gaze lingers for a second before you turn away and I catch a glimpse of the small smile of satisfaction you try to hide from your friends. I have no need to hide mine. It’s clear we both find each other very attractive. A relief. This could all have gone so differently. For my part, despite the fact you sent me countless photos, I was unsure whether you would even show up or indeed look anything like your pictures. You surpassed them and you oozed femininity and sexuality. How anybody else had ever missed your carnality was a mystery to me.
My mind is flooded with images of bending you over and lifting the delicate folds of your abaya, grabbing, kissing and taking that beautiful arab ass for my own. I need to know how you taste, how you moan, how you scream. I want to satisfy that ache of repressed sexual energy, leave your mouth and pussy tender and sore from your desperate desire to take as much of my cock as you can possibly handle. I want you on your knees obediently waiting for me give you what you have been so patiently waiting for.
I’m handsome. You had touched yourself to the blurry fantasy of serving this ethereal western man but now I was sat so close and I was so real. The words I had crafted to stir the winds of passion and desire inside you were now within touching distance. Your brain was travelling at a million miles an hour, maybe this was a mistake you tell yourself.
Your phone vibrates.
You know it is me. You freeze. The excitement is so intense and your mind is on fire, spiraling between fear and pleasure. After a few seconds you can’t resist any longer. You tilt your phone away from the eyes of others and read:-
“Move in your chair. Grind into your seat. When you do, imagine the feeling of me inside you. Feel my hands on your breasts and my breath on your neck”
You put your phone down beside you and I watch as you arch your back and gently grind your hips forward. The tightness of your wet underwear pressing against your throbbing clit.
As you begin to relax, you want to play so you message me back.
“I feel your white cock inside me. I want you to fuck me over this table.”
Instantly my cock swells.
“Take a sip of your drink. And when you do imagine it is my hot cum draining into your mouth”
Dutifully you put down your phone, place the straw between your lips and take a long, slow suck and exaggerate the motion as you swallow the liquid. Playfully you let your tongue rest on the tip of the straw, imagining it was the head of my cock that had just exploded inside you.
I want to take you with every fibre of my being.
You hear me stand up.
You turn your head to look at me. Surely that can’t be it, we had only just started. I’m finishing the last of my coffee as I put on my jacket and then to your horror, I start walking towards you.
This was not part of the deal.
You start to panic and your face is hot. We were never meant to talk, never meant to actually meet. Your friends are all there. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. I am so close, what will you do, how will you explain?
I brush past you with the lightest of touches, electricity fires between us, your body goes completely tight and you let out a little gasp. But I keep on walking out of the restaurant. I don’t break our rule. Your body is shaking as you watch my broad shouldered physique walk away. Just before I am out of view, I turn around and smile, you smile and flash your eye lashes. One day you will be mine, but not today.
PT.2
*Pt.2 Needed*