“Amelia,” she said after he left; at first she wasn’t sure why she said it, and then she understood that it was her name. Why couldn’t she remember it before? She would have to tell Abdelsaid.
When Abdelsaid returned, he brought the women with him. All three. Identical, lush, beautiful. Their bodies rounded and full beneath the flowing clothes. So unlike Amelia, with her scrawny, underfed body. Amelia looked around blankly, not understanding. The three women set out a second mat in the middle of the room.
Abdelsaid knelt beside the mat and began to kiss Amelia.
The women disrobed silently, setting their clothes just out of reach. They reclined on the mat, their bodies entwining, casually, their arms around each other. Amelia watched, overwhelmed. Abdelsaid was also watching them. But soon he was watching Amelia. Then his hands were upon her as he kissed her and gently coaxed her against him.
Amelia leaned on Abdelsaid and took him into her mouth. The three women caressed each other, their bodies seething, flowing together, becoming one. Amelia’s lips slid deftly over Abdelsaid’s shaft, as they had done before. Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her thighs together as she suckled on Abdelsaid’s cock. She felt the curious sensation rising inside her again, though not quite coming to fruition.
After a time, the naked women filled and lit the houkah and Abdelsaid smoked. He gave the houkah to Amelia, who sucked the smoke into her lungs. It was harsh, bringing back vague memories of school gymnasiums and the back seats of cars, but those memories faded as quickly as they flared, and disappeared in the smoke.
After a time, Amelia felt very strange, as if she had fallen asleep but were still moving. Her body was enveloped with pleasant sensations. She watched Abdelsaid’s three wives with hunger and curiosity. Their bodies were so different than hers, though very, very beautiful.
Then Abdelsaid bent down to kiss her, and she knew it was time. Amelia no longer wore the strange, impractical clothes under the robe, the ones she’d been wearing when Abdelsaid first came to her. Not even her underwear. Just the sash, holding her slight breasts flat against her body. Amelia went to take the robe off, but Abdelsaid motioned her not to do so.
He did not undress her this time. Instead, he simply lifted the robe, bunching it around her upper thighs and buttocks. Amelia felt him pulling the robe tight through her crotch. She felt Abdelsaid pouring oil between her buttocks, some spilling on the robe. Amelia watched the three women, who had begun to kiss each other, their limbs twined in a lush menagé.
Then Amelia felt a rush of fear and surrender as Abdelsaid mounted her from behind, but not in the fashion he had done before. The sensations were very different this time – stronger, perhaps because her need was so great. It was then that she became aware of the woman’s smell. The third wife was against her, placing herself on the mat. Her thighs spread around Amelia, and Amelia, without thinking, began to work her tongue between the woman’s legs, tasting something unfamiliar and oddly delicious.
The third wife moaned softly.
Abdelsaid was continuing to thrust gently inside her, silently moving in and out between her buttocks. The sensations were curious indeed, but not at all unpleasant. Amelia’s whole body began to shake. And then suddenly Abdelsaid was finished. Amelia slumped, spent, against the mat.
Abdelsaid motioned toward the three women, speaking to them sternly. Amelia watched, without understanding. She heard the French word “Monsieur,” perhaps it was the name “Monsieur Breton”. She had known a Monsieur Breton briefly, in Nice. He had been a drifter, living nowhere, floating. But was a happy man. Amelia felt sure that she and Monsieur Breton had been lovers; fleetingly, she remembered a pleasant afternoon of sex in her hotel room. The three wives seemed to be arguing violently with Abdelsaid. The third wife was trying to open Amelia’s robe. Abdelsaid grabbed Amelia, shouting, and held her against his body.
Sheepishly, the three women moved away from Amelia. They dressed in silence while Abdelsaid watched. Then the three women left the room. Abdelsaid followed them, and did not pause to kiss Amelia good-bye.
Abdelsaid cursed the women for trying to engage Monsieur Breton against his wishes. “He was plainly enjoying himself with me,” said Abdelsaid cruelly. “He didn’t need a trio of women devouring him. I already told you about the French!”
“You saw that thing the Frenchman did to Aouicha! He was enjoying it!”
Abdelsaid was losing his temper. “No! That’s a French custom! It is not something they enjoy. It’s considered a duty.” He tried to change the subject.
The women argued with him late into the night. Finally Abdelsaid threw up his arms and forbade any of them to lay with Monsieur Breton. They were to satisfy his hunger, and that was it. But Abdelsaid knew that it would be impossible, that his secret would soon be discovered.
These moments with the French woman, then, were like succulent morsels for him to savor. Like the dried petals of the Black Lily. Their time together was to be brief. It made Abdelsaid very sad.
He made his way back to the French woman’s room, his heart filled with longing.
Abdelsaid came to her again before the next mealtime, without his wives. His passion was incredible, his thrusting almost violent. Amelia was sure that he would break her in half as he possessed her, though there was a delicious thrill to his desire and at no point was she afraid. But she was left hungry and wanting, the aching need inside her. She wondered if it was possible to satisfy it some other way, to bring on that pleasurable sensation. Perhaps to cause it herself? She tried, but found it impossible. She grew lonely and afraid and began to weep in the darkness.
She had never had an identity, never known her name. It did not seem right that it should upset her. For she existed only in the present, only as a part of this elaborate ritual in the Sahara. She was nothing. Amelia had ceased to exist. Perhaps she never had existed. So why did nonexistence torment this nameless woman?
She wept for a time. But when the weeping passed, it seemed that, too, was gone for ever and had never been. Perhaps as a dream.
What happened seemed natural, when the third wife came once again to feed. Once the meal was over, the wife undressed herself and began to kiss the Frenchman. The Frenchman’s lips found the woman’s breasts and he suckled for a long time while the woman stroked her hair. Then, eagerly, the third wife lay back on the mat, spreading her legs, presenting herself for the Frenchman’s skilled kiss.
Amelia found that as she made love to the woman, her very being was subsumed into the woman’s body. When the woman cried out, Amelia discovered that she had long ago forgotten who she was, or what she was doing.
She lay, in a curious, pleasant warmth, as the woman rolled her over and began to slip her hands under the robe. Amelia tasted the woman’s tongue, and they kissed deeply as the woman’s fingertips traced a path up her thigh.
The woman’s fingers slipped between Amelia’s legs, searching, seeking. The woman’s eyes grew wide.
Flushing red, the woman drew back. It sounded as if she were cursing. She quickly gathered up her clothes, bursting into tears as she carried them away. Sadly, Amelia watched after her, confused, the ache of her desire unsatisfied. She wondered again if it was possible to bring the sensation upon herself, but it seemed as hopeless as before.
This was unacceptable. Abdelsaid knew it would be so. He had been flirting with disaster by bringing the woman here, even disguised as she was. He had become wealthy, by local standards, from the trade and export of the Black Lily. He could certainly afford a fourth wife. But the three existing would not stand for it.
“She will take away your affection!” they shrieked. “She will devour all of your love! They are like hungry beasts – especially their women! It is unfair – we cannot have a French girl here! It is improper! You must send her away!’