I’m in my final year at university, where I’m studying
archaeology. My life lately is filled with studies and
lectures and research. There’s almost no time left for
a social life, so to relieve the pressure I have to
jerk off a lot, and fantasize.
The fantasy I’ve had a lot lately, one that I’ve honed
and shaped to a fine edge, began with a picture of an
archaeology dig I found in one of my textbooks a few
months ago. It’s a picture of an area in the Egyptian
desert, utterly deserted except for some nomads on
camels that wander through between oasis.
I should point out that I have very, very fair skin,
and thick, coppery red, shoulder length hair. The sun
is not my friend, and I tend to peel and burn easily,
so I have to use a lot of suntan lotion whenever I’m
out in it for any length of time.
I still like to get a tan, but I have to do it a little
at a time, a very little. That’s a bit of a shame since
I have such a good body. I’m not as fit as I’d like,
mostly because I don’t have the time to work out, but I
do possess an hourglass 36-23-26 body. I’m tall, nearly
six feet, and I think my legs are my best feature,
being very nicely contoured, and, of course, very long.
Anyway, my fantasy revolves around my work, or future
work, if you prefer. I’m at a dig site, and sleeping in
a small tent alone. There’s a sandstorm outside but I’m
snug in my sleeping bag. As always, I’m sleeping nude.
Suddenly the tent is blown over by the force of the
wind. I’m squashed under it and tumble along the ground
as the wind catches the tent and pushes it along in
front of it. I’m having a hard time scrambling out of
my bag because the wind is sliding the tent forward
along the ground with ever increasing speed.
I’m not tumbling end over end, thank god, so much as
riding a toboggan or sled on a very bumpy blind ride. I
eventually manage to get out of my bag and jerk open
the flap. I tumble out, which is a major mistake,
because the tent blasts off without me and I’m left
naked to face the furious driving sand.
I’m blown back by it and sputter and cough, choking on
sand. I turn my back to the storm, crawling along the
ground in search of shelter. I climb to my feet and
stagger along, my feet sinking deep in the soft sand as
the wind whips it against my back. I tumble down a
hill, which provides some shelter, then, crawling
weakly, I find a small rock and push my head and
shoulders in behind it, out of the wind.
I dig my hips and legs down into the sand and they’re
quickly buried and safe. Sand continues to fly and I’m
buried to the shoulders soon, and have to keep moving
my hands to keep the sand from burying my head too.
Finally it dies down and the night is calm once again.
I rise and shake the sand off me, then look around. I
can’t see much. There’s no moon out tonight. Still, I’m
sure I haven’t come far, and I’m starting to get chilly
in the night desert.
I climb back up the hill, certain it’s the right one
even though there’s two others right next to it. I head
back in the direction of the camp, rubbing myself to
keep warm. My arms are and hands are chilly, and so are
my breasts. My nipples are very hard with cold and I
cross my arms across my boobs to keep them warm.
The rest of me is soon very chilly soon as I continue
to walk. The only reason I’m not freezing is because
it’s such hard work walking in the thick soft sand.
Of course I’m getting tired quickly, and I finally have
to halt, after having fallen dozens of times. I kneel
in the sand and scoop up more sand around me to cover
my bare skin. Soon the sun begins to rise, along with
the temperature. I stand up, pushing the sand away, and
head up a nearby hill to search for the camp.
Suddenly I see movement off in one direction. I shout
and wave my arms to attract attention. I know I’m
naked, but I’m more concerned about dying in the desert
than preserving my modesty. The movement turns towards
me and as it gets closer I realize, with some fear,
that it’s not my colleagues from the dig but some
native on a camel.
I watch him come closer with mixed feelings, then
crouch low and sort of cover myself with my arms and
knees as he rides up to me. He stops a few feet back,
looking down at me.
“Uh, do you speak English?” I ask timidly.
He looks at me and says nothing.
“I don’t suppose you have some kind of clothing?
Something to put over myself?” I try to demonstrate
what I want with my hands, showing my body without
showing him anything. I know how the Arabs feel about
female nudity.
He doesn’t move, just sits there looking down at me.
I can’t tell much about him. He’s wearing robes and the
traditional headdress with a scarf or something wrapped
around his face. He throws back the scarf then and I
see he’s a very handsome man, perhaps in his late
twenties or thirties. It’s hard to tell age with nomads
since the sun and heat age them prematurely.
He holds out his hand, indicating I should rise and
take it. I don’t want to since that means exposing my
naked body to his gaze. Again I motion at myself, and
point at his robe. But he either doesn’t understand or
pretends not to. He holds out his arm impatiently and
says something in Arabic, the tone sharp.
I stand up slowly, still trying to cover myself. My
right arm is across my breasts and I cup my groin with
my left hand. He reaches out imperiously and I know he
wants me to give him my arm but I don’t want to expose
myself.
He bends over and grabs my arm, then hauls me forward.
I yelp and scramble up the side of the camel as the
Arab guy pulls me up behind him. The leather seat is
wide, which means I have to spread my legs very far. My
pussy comes down flat on it and burns because the
leather has gotten hot in the sun.
I wriggle around on it, trying to keep my pussy up and
expose as little of my ass cheeks as possible. But then
the camel starts moving and I have to grab the man in
front of me to keep from tumbling off. My pussy and ass
are very hot and uncomfortable, but I have to sit there
as the camel moves along.
It got hotter and hotter and I started swaying from
side to side like the camel. My eyes kept closing and I
thought I would wear out… and then I did.
I almost fell off the camel but the Arab guy grabbed me
at the last minute. I wasn’t quite unconscious and I
hung there by one wrist as he brought the camel to a
stop. Then I fell and lost consciousness completely.
I woke up briefly as he handed me down to some Arab
women. They carried me into a tent and gave me lots of
water. I drank it gratefully, but then lost
consciousness again. I faded in and out for a while.
When I woke up finally I was laying on a kind of bench
or cot and several Arab women were massaging my body.
At least that’s what I thought at first. Then I
realized they were massaging some kind of oily stuff
into my skin. None spoke English and I didn’t
understand them, but I knew I was kind of sunburned in
a lot of places so quickly figured out that was what
the oil was for.
The thing was though, that as I came more and more
awake I remembered, or maybe just realized, that I was
still entirely naked. What was more they weren’t being
at all shy with their hands. They were massaging the
oil into my breasts and my inner thighs, and then as I
squirmed in embarrassment and discomfort, they ran
their oily fingers right over my pussy, rubbing it into
my crotch.
I tried to push their hands away and tell them that I
would do it but of course they didn’t understand me and
they were all big women and a lot stronger than me. I
mean, I’m tall, but these were BIG women.
So I pretty much had to lay there still and let them
rub and knead my body with this flowery smelling oil.
They chatted as they worked on me, but of course I
didn’t understand the language. They seemed in a good
mood, and treated everything I did with a kind of
amused tolerance, pushing my hands back and holding
them gently whenever I interfered, for example.
Like when this one large woman, her fingers coated in
this thick oily goo, pushed them against my pussy and
then slowly pushed them right up into me. I grabbed at
her wrist in shock but the others all laughed and
chided me like a child and held my hands back as the
women pushed her fingers way up inside me.
I gasped and tried to close my legs, but she was
between them, and another woman pulled my left leg open
and held it wide as the one between my legs pumped her
fingers in and out of my fuck box. Her fingers massaged
the side of my pussy tunnel, turning slowly around to
massage all sides.
One of the other women put her thumb and forefinger
around my right nipple and squeezed it, then pulled
upwards, pinching it and distending the shape of my
round orb. I again tried to grab at it, as the other
women all chuckled in amusement, but they still held my
hands easily.
The woman holding my nipple up said something and the
others all laughed in amusement, even the one pumping
her fingers around in my slit. She pulled them out then
and to my intense embarrassment, added more goo and
then slowly worked them into my asshole as two other
women held my legs up and back.
After straining against their hold for a minute it was
obvious I wasn’t going to break free so I relaxed, and
let them do whatever they were going to. They weren’t
hurting me, after all.
He gave me some more water, only it wasn’t water this
time. I felt like some kind of very harsh wine, more
like vinegar, really. It made my mouth buzz and burned
my throat, then made my belly all fluttery.
They finished with me only when I was coated, inside
and out, with the oily substance. Then they left me
there on the bench and went out of the tent. I looked
around for something to cover myself with but there
simply wasn’t anything. I tried to sit up, but then
realized that I was still weak and kind of dizzy.
A few minutes passed, then several of the women
returned, bearing a blanket or robe or something. They
wrapped me in it, then lifted me as though I weighed
nothing, carrying me out of the tent. It was dark
outside, and cool, thank God. But I wasn’t outside
long, anyway. They took me to another tent and laid me
down on a brightly colored blanket.
They removed the robe, despite my feeble attempts to
keep it, then left. I waited there, wondering what they
were going to do next and wishing I spoke Arabic.
The tent flap opened and a man came through, the same
man who had picked me up out in the desert. I sat up,
but then fell back down again with a groan.
He was wearing a flowing robe when he stepped into the
tent, but when I opened my eyes again after falling
back on the blanket he was opening it and shrugging it
off. Beneath it he was naked, his body muscular and
glistening in the light from a crackling fire in the
middle of the tent.
I gulped in surprise. He didn’t seem at all
threatening. He walked forward, then dropped to his
knees on the blanket I was laying on. I covered my
breasts with my arm and my pussy with my hand, but he
only smiled, gripped my wrists, and gently pulled them
away, setting them on the blanket beside me.
I know I should have felt terrified, but I didn’t. For
some reason a languorous ease gripped my mind and body
both. I felt like I was watching him from a distance. I
noted, and appreciated his strongly built body, but it
didn’t make any real impact.
He lay on his side right next to me and I turned to
look at him. I felt a calm acceptance. Every muscle in
my body and every brain cell in my mind felt a deep
sense of peace and relaxation. He gently laid his hand
on my belly, just laid it there for a moment, as if to
absorb my heat.
His hand slid upwards, moving easily since both our
bodies were coated in oil. It slid up onto my right
breast, not squeezing it at all, just gliding along the
contours of my body, appreciating the curves and
softness. He fingered my nipple with the utmost
gentleness, rolling it between his thumb and finger.
When his fingers moved back the nipple was rigid, as
was the other one, though he had yet to touch it. His
hand glided down my body, his fingers touching my ribs,
then moving onto my belly and down between my legs. He
cupped my pussy mound, then rubbed it. His hand slid up
and down, sliding right down between my slightly spread
thighs to touch my buttocks.
I opened my legs, not without effort for I still felt
very, very relaxed and weak. He sat up, his other hand
now dropping onto my breast, stroking it slowly. He got
to his knees and put a leg across me, then eased down
onto me, sitting on my lower belly. I felt his heat and
weight on me, but it wasn’t at all uncomfortable.
His cock lay right along my belly. It was long, but not
really very hard. He gripped it with his fingers and
rubbed it from side to side on my stomach, then shifted
forward a bit at a time, until his ass was on my lower
chest. His knees were on the ground beside me and he
took some of his weight on his legs as he lay his cock
in between my breasts.
His hands cupped my breasts from the sides, then
pressed them in against his cock. I saw his prick
starting to lengthen and thicken. He began to put
pressure on my breasts, his hands crushing them
together around his rapidly hardening prong.
He started to hump slowly, sliding his ass up and down
on my body, sliding his cock in and out of my cleavage
as he squashed my tits around it. I just lay there and
didn’t move, my arms at my sides.
He humped faster, his cock now very hard, the little
hole pointing right at me as I looked up at it. My
breasts felt warm and as his fingers dug into them and
squeezed them I felt them getting tight and taut and
tense, felt pressure building up inside the thick
mounds of meat, heat and pressure and tension.
My nipples got almost painfully hard and my breasts
were swollen with longing, but I didn’t know for what.
There was a terrible heat and pressure in them that
needed release, but I didn’t know what kind of release
or how to accomplish it. My breasts were so hard and
hot that I whimpered a little from discomfort.
His big cock continued to slide back and forth in my
cleavage, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I tried to
understand what I wanted, or rather, what my body
wanted, and realized that the true longing, the true
need, was down between my legs.
And just then, just as if he realized it too, he let go
of my breasts and moved backwards down my body. He
knelt between my legs and held his cock in his hands,
the head pointed at my pussy hole. I watched, my mind
detached, uncaring, calm.
I saw the head push in between my pussy lips, then saw
it disappear inside me. I saw my cunt lips open wide,
saw how they gripped his prong as it followed the head
into my cunt crack. He pushed it slowly at first, but
then he suddenly leaned forward and thrust hard. I let
out a little cry and my head pulled back as my back
arched.
A deep, powerful sense of lust and pleasure rocked my
mind and I was suddenly aware of his cock jammed up
high in my belly. His body slid forward on top of me
and he stared down into my eyes as he began to fuck me.
I still didn’t move. I stared back up at him, my eyes
kind of dazed but happy, as he pumped his cock inside
with faster and deeper movements.
He lowered his mouth then and kissed me, his lips
moving passionately over my own as he ground his loins
down into me. His hands moved over my body, stroking,
squeezing, stroking. He pulled his mouth up, then
licked across my cheek and under my earlobe, then bit
down lightly.
He kept grinding up and down atop me, his cock sliding
slow and easy up and down in my tight, moist fuck
channel. My legs spread wider and wider, seemingly of
their own accord, and his prick slid even deeper into
my body. His hands moved beneath me, pulling me
tighter, sliding down to cup my ass.
His fingers dug into my buttocks, half lifting my ass
up to meet his thrusts. He jammed me up into him,
grinding his pelvis against me as his prick lay buried
with my moist tight belly. His teeth nibbled at my
throat and my cheeks and my shoulders as he grunted
with the effort of crushing our bodies together.
Our bodies were all oily and moved softly and sleekly
against each other. His chest and belly rode up and
down against mine, a hard, yet gentle caress. I felt my
breasts mashed up against his muscular chest, and
groaned as he rode over them, rolling and crushing them
like a rolling pin over bread dough.
My legs jerked feebly on the blanket, drawing back,
knees rising spastically. I felt his cock grow even
thicker as it rutted into me, and he fucked even
harder, desperately hard it seemed. He ground across me
with furious need, all his weight on my slight body,
crushing me below him as he jammed my ass up with both
his hands.
I could hardly breath with his heavy chest crushing my
own breasts down against my ribs, but I didn’t really
care. All I really cared about was the deep and
spreading heat that was engulfing my body. It wasn’t a
crackling, burning heat, just a deep, soul satisfying
warmth that made me want to bask in it forever.
His hands were jerking my ass up even harder, and he
was actually lifting it and my bent legs, off the
ground with each thrust. I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind
the hard pounding of his hips against my soft inner
thighs either, for that jarring, ramming feeling just
felt… right, somehow.
Then he came inside me. I felt his juice, felt it like
it was going through my hands, felt its heat and
wetness as it shot into my guts. I could feel each
individual wad of sperm as it blasted out the tip of
his cock and struck the bottom of my pussy box.
I felt a deep sense of happiness that he had cum inside
me, like all was right with the world. I wasn’t
thinking coherently about anything, really, but I was
glad for him, and glad that I had accomplished his
pleasure.
He slipped his hands out from under my ass and let if
fall back to the blanket, then rose and walked to his
robe. He shrugged it on then, ignoring me, and walked
out of the tent. I just lay there unmoving, still
feeling the wonderful sense of peace and rightness.
Less than a minute passed, then the tent opened and he
returned. It wasn’t him, though. I knew this even
before he took off his robe. But I didn’t care. Only a
small part of me even realized that it wasn’t him.
He got on his knees between my legs, gripping them and
lifting them up, then parting them. He shoved them so
wide a part I felt the muscles and tendons in my thighs
straining and aching. He gave me a hungry look, then
dove onto me. I grunted as he came down on my chest,
but he soon took his weight off, bending and sucking on
my nipples.
His mouth moved quickly, hungrily over my breasts, as
did his hands. He kneaded them with stiff fingers,
mashing and squeezing them all over as his mouth sucked
on first one nipple then the other. It hurt just a bit,
but I liked it anyway, and my nipples felt alive, felt
like they would explode with pleasure when he sucked
especially hard on them.
He entered me, his cock sliding in to the hilt. He let
his weight down and began to fuck with hard, deep
movements, grunting with the effort. He didn’t kiss me,
but he did bite and chew on the side of my throat as he
threw his hips into my loins.
His cock was a trip-hammer as it rode into me, and his
hips, smaller, and bonier than the first man, smacked
bruisingly hard against my thighs.
But I didn’t care. I loved it anyway, and felt at one
with the universe, my mind floating along on that
wonderful sense of peace and happiness.
I hardly noticed when he was gone. I looked up and saw
a man taking off his robe, then getting down on the
blanket with me, and smiled at him. He got on top of me
and drove his cock into my body, then began to fuck.
The faces blurred in my mind, as man after man came
into the tent and used me. The sense of pleasure and
peace and languorous happiness grew greater so I hardly
knew what was going on anyway.
After a long time I was alone, my pussy rubbed raw by
all the cocks that had gone into me, my breasts aching
and bruised, cut here and there by teeth and sharp
fingers. I lay naked still, legs wide open, arms above
me, flat on the blanket as I lay in a haze.
The women came back. They carried something but I
didn’t notice or care at first. Two of them lifted my
legs up and pushed them back against my body, exposing
my crotch and ass to a third, who knelt there. A fourth
knelt at my head, stroking it.
I felt something pushing against my pussy, but that was
hardly anything to disturb my serenity. But it began to
hurt, sort of, a sharp, pinching feeling that grew by
the second. It began to draw me out of that sea of
tranquil warmth and I slowly raised my head to look
down between my legs.
She was holding what looked to be a kind of sword, or
dagger, except instead of a blade there was a long very
thick round… thing. It was much thicker than any
man’s organ I’d ever seen, and the aching that I was
feeling was the straining of my pussy lips as she tried
to force the thick thing into me.
I tried to reach for her but the other woman tut-tut
and held my hands back as the woman put more weight on
the thing. I panted and whimpered in real pain, still
trying to reach for whatever the thing was. The thing
wasn’t metal or wood or plastic or anything like that.
It was some kind of organic construct, like, I don’t
know, like a cucumber wrapped in leaves and vines and
sprinkled with cloves, peppers, parsley and a bunch of
other spices.
I cried out as my pussy lips were finally forced open
wide enough to accept the thing. They held me easily,
patting my face and head as the woman grunted and
pushed the thing deeper and deeper into my body. I
wriggled and jerked and whined but they held me down as
the whole thing was forced inside my pussy.
It was long and hit the end of my cervix, but they kept
pushing anyway, mashing it a little to get it entirely
inside me. My pussy lips closed finally and they let me
go, satisfied apparently. They got up and left the tent
then and I patted ineffectually at my crotch.
I tried to pry my pussy lips open and pull the thing
out but my hands were very weak and I just couldn’t.
Anyway, it wasn’t hurting much any more, now that it
was fully buried in my pussy box. So I lay back and
kept my legs open to ease some of the pressure I felt
in my groin.
My guts felt cramped and hard by the thick thing inside
me. It was very uncomfortable.
Still, it didn’t hurt, so I began to settle back down
into the warmth and peace.
Then I started feeling something else from my pussy,
something harder and hotter than before, a kind of
burning, itching sensation that grew and grew and grew.
Again I tried to get at it, to pry my pussy lips open
and pull the thing out, but again I was too weak and
uncoordinated.
The sensation grew more and more powerful and I
whimpered and whined as my hands squeezed feebly at my
pussy mound. My belly was on fire and I couldn’t do
anything to ease the heat. I rolled onto my side and
curled up tight, squeezing my thighs together
repeatedly. Then I rolled onto my belly, my hands on my
crotch as I whimpered.
Then I felt a massive, powerful, cataclysmic blast of
unimaginable pleasure. It stunned me, blowing out the
top of my skull. I jerked violently, flipping onto my
back, then I began to convulse, to shake and thrash in
a maddened fit.
The pleasure roared through my mind like a freight
train through a tunnel, the noise and light and power
were astonishing. It rolled over me and crushed me
below its wheels, leaving me a moaning mass of torn
flesh.
Then, as I lay there in pieces, there was another
monumental explosion of sexual ecstasy. Like a dam
blown free the orgasmic power flooded through my system
and tore away everything in its path. I screamed again
and again, screamed until my throat was raw. I flopped
and rolled and jerked and bounced in orgasmic release,
drooling and choking and grunting.
I rolled over and over again, bouncing and shaking and
writhing like a thing possessed. I dug my nails into my
breasts and mashed them as tightly as I could
repeatedly clamping my hands down on them as I shrieked
in ecstasy. I put a hand on my pussy, then my other
hand atop it, then squeezed with all my might, howling
like a banshee as power of the orgasm ripped through my
body and burned along my nervous system.
Finally I blanked out completely and the old women
came. The thing in my pussy was by then gone, crushed
into oil by my spamming, squeezing cunt muscles. They
held a beaker up to my pussy and let the contents drain
down into it.
I was dragged away then, to recover… for the next
night, when they would repeat the entire process.