I kissed her beautiful white bosoms which were now disclosed. She awoke from her reverie with another deep blush and, going to the other side of the bed, she took off her shoes with her back to me, so that I did not get a glimpse of one finely turned ankle. Then she dropped off her petticoat and got into bed, covering herself up, face and all.
I soon undressed and followed. I took her in my arms and kissed her tenderly. Though she suffered my lips to revel on her ripe mouth, her lips did not move to return my kisses. My hands wandered over all parts of her fine form. As long as they lingered on her bosoms she was passive, but when I played too wantonly with the curls at her loins, she grew restless. I was excited by her modesty to the highest pitch of desire.
I drew her unresisting form beneath me and, parting her thighs, my crest entered the Elysian Fields — indeed the promised joy of the Elysian Fields would not have tempted me to withdraw it. It entered where it was surrounded by moist, clinging tissues alive with affinity to its sensitive touch. Still she lay passive.
I put my arms under the small of her back and, holding her firmly, gave a plunge which sent my crest until it touched her womb. She could no longer refrain from manifesting her delight; she wrapped her arms around me. I gave another thrust which unsealed the fountain of my glans, and then another which planted the gushing sperm in the midst of her loins.
She held my face between her hands and gazed entranced with her eyes while the life-giving fluid dashed against her womb. She melted while she gazed and put up her lips for the first and only kiss she exchanged with me. Our lips were glued together till the last drop trickled from my crest, and the thrilling rapture slowly faded and left me nearly lifeless in her arms.
The life which she had ravished from me could hardly fail to quicken in her womb, and her melting gaze as she reviewed them could hardly fail to stamp the nascent life with my features.
We lay perfectly still for a long time; then the door opened and the old lady called me. I got up to see what she wanted.
'You must go now,' she said. I told her I could not bear to leave my charming companion. 'You will undo what I hope you have done if you stay longer.' Then she whispered, 'I do not wish to startle her, but there is danger of discovery. Lie perfectly still on your back, darling,' she added to the lady in bed, 'and it will be a fine boy.'
I dressed and stepped to the bedside. The sheet was drawn; her forehead alone was visible. I kissed it and withdrew. The old lady soon followed me and put a ring into my hand as she dismissed me hastily from the front door. 'She begs you to accept it in token of her admiration and respect. Her love is all for her husband.'
I should not have accepted it if I had seen, as I did on reaching home, that it was a diamond worth thousands. On the inside of the ring were engraved the words, IN HONOUR…
I left the city, as had been announced, on the first morning train. Before proceeding far we met with an accident. No one was injured, but we would have to wait for the afternoon train. I took a carriage and rode back to the city rather than kick my heels. As we approached the main street we could not cross. We had to pause, to allow the cortege of the sovereign to pass. By his side was sitting his august spouse.
It was the lady with whom I had lain the night before. She supposed me far on my journey or she would not have left the seclusion of her palace. She rode unconscious of the presence of the man whose seed was even then germinating in her womb. It is six months since then. The newspapers which we received at port a few days ago announce that there is great rejoicing in a certain capital city. The august spouse of the sovereign is in an interesting condition.
'You see what you have got to expect, Inez,' said Anna. 'You, I and Myrzella. What will the black-eyed Pasha say if three blue-eyed babies are born the same night in the harem?'
The ladies laughed and then began teasing for another story.
'One of you must tell it then,' said I.
When they found that I would tell no more, enquiries were made for the scarf.
Virginia produced it and threw it to a lady she called El Jelis, from Arabia. She, like Anna, was very tall and slender, but there all resemblance between them ceased. The Arab girl had hair and eyes as black as jet, and skin the colour of rich cream. She took the scarf and shook it out to its full length, displaying the spots where Zuleika's blood had stained it.
'You will excuse me if I give you a dance instead of a story,' she said, springing lightly to her feet and waving the long thin fabric high over her head. She accompanied the waving motion with the most beautiful dancing I ever saw.
Her slender but firmly rounded limbs seemed to float through the air. Her little feet came to the carpet with a touch too light to crush a rose petal. Her shining black hair was unbound and reached to her ankles; it floated from side to side as she danced like a cloud. Her motion without losing its grace became more rapid; the colour came to her cheeks; her large, lustrous, black eyes flashed from under the dark lashes.
Still the dance became more rapid. Her round bosoms did not even quiver, so free from any jar was every graceful spring. At last her whole form seemed to float in the air, then one toe lightly touched the carpet and the other pointed to the ceiling directly over her head.
For an instant between her naked thighs was disclosed a long, crimson gash and the parted curls. In another instant she was standing upright and motionless before me. Her hands were folded on her bosoms and her head bowed in oriental submission. Her hair slowly ceased to wave and fell to her ankles in a veil.
'It was very graceful, my charming El Jelis,' said I, 'but I cannot let you off from your story.'
'My story is so disgraceful that I cannot look you in the face and tell it,' she said and, turning with her back towards me, the beautiful girl told the following story.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I was born in the dominions of the Imam of Yemen. When I was sixteen years old I was selected by one of his emissaries for the Imam's harem. My parents were well pleased with my preferment, and I set out from home with girlish glee. On being introduced to the harem I was bathed and elegantly dressed; then I was led to a room where the Imam was sitting conversing with his ladies.
He was an old man with a countenance indicating a feeble character. The conversation showed the supremacy which was exercised over him by his wife, Ayesha, a very fat lady, whose corpulence seemed to be her only charm. After a while the Imam began to look at me a great deal, which I could see she noticed.
At last he called me to his side, where I stood with his bare arm around my waist, answering his questions. His arm gradually lowered and I felt his hand under my petticoat. I suppose he thought the other ladies did not see him, for I was standing very close to his side. The eyes of Ayesha, however, were on the alert; they flashed with anger.
The Imam's hand explored my thighs, and at last his finger entered a place where no man had ever before touched me. It felt its way carefully in and soon met with an obstruction. The pressure upon it, though slight, was very disagreeable to me, but I did not dare to repulse the Imam.
What I did not dare to do Ayesha did. 'Your Highness,' said she, 'has promised to present a virgin to the Sultan of Muscat; I think this one will do in default of any better.'
'Yes, she is a virgin,' he said, partly answering her and partly giving vent to his own thoughts.
'Shall I order the chief eunuch to see to her?' said Ayesha.