The Sultan's Wives

Alice Crowley stood looking down the ramparts of a strange city in the far-flung country her husband's ambition had brought them to. Outside it was hot, though lush gardens sprouted sporadically through the city and peeked from private walled gardens below them. Hot oil, spices, and something like jasmine was carried up on the warm breeze along with noise from the marketplace, a cacophony of words Alice could not understand.

Philip shifted and groaned from the divan behind her.

"Alice darling, close the curtains, please," he requested in his posh London lilt, "aren't you afraid of getting sun, my dear?"

Alice sighed and did as he asked, turning away from the window. When she married an ambitious military man, Alice had known she might end up elsewhere in Europe or even in one of England's colonies, or waiting at home for her husband to return from months-long stretches abroad, an idea she had never really minded. She would have liked to find herself the lone mistress of their fairly new townhouse in London, or to retire quietly to a country cottage and await his return. Instead, she had been hauled along with him to the heart of the Ottoman Empire where he attended endless diplomatic meetings where she was not needed or welcome. The wives of the Ottoman politicians apparently did not socialize, or if they did, she was not invited. There were some other British expats, of course, and she and Philip tried to get together with them when they could, but so far all the other English women had either been much older or considered "socially unsuitable" by Philip. She listened to his opinion on potential friends, as if heeding his directives could make him forget her own lower social status, could make everyone forget.

So, Alice tried to be a good wife, cooped up as she was in the upper portion of a city townhouse. They were unsure how much longer Philip would be needed, and he vacillated between promising her they would be transferred soon and then that they would get a larger home with a garden if they did not. Alice was not free to walk about or explore the city, even with other women, and the native women went veiled and chaperoned in the streets below.

"Alice," Philip said thoughtfully, a glint in his eye, "perhaps there is something we could do to pass the time."

Oh, not this again, thought Alice. She had always been curious about what passed between a man and a woman in bed prior to marriage, but after marriage had found it sticky and disappointing. To her relief, there was a subtle knocking at the door, which she rushed to answer. It proved to be a messenger with a letter for her husband. Alice watched Philip's posture change as he read it, first sitting up straight and then springing up to pace around the room.

"It's the sultan," he said, raking his hands through his wavy brown hair, "you must get dressed my dear. In your finest--but most modest--gown."

"Those two things seldom go hand in hand," Alice cried in consternation.

Her velvet dress was far too warm, and her white dress overlaid with green chiffon had the high empire waist and low-cut bodice that was the fashion of the day.

"Well, you must work something out. The sultan has consented to see me, immediately, and asks that my wife accompany me to meet his wives."

Alice immediately began rifling through her clothes. Oh, damn the sultan, she thought defiantly. She could have had a langorous afternoon and evening to herself as she usually did when Philip was working, but instead she was to be dragged out and paraded about for women who she could not communicate with. Alice barely even spoke French, much less Arabic or Turkish.

Ultimately she decided to put a little spencer jacket over her gauzy white and green dress. It was heavier and a shade of burgundy that didn't quite agree with the colors of the dress, but it buttoned all the way up to the neck. The sultan had sent an ornate carriage with a velvet interior for them, and Alice felt her surliness dissipate a bit as they jostled down the street. This was, after all, a chance to get out and have an adventure after being cooped up for so long, and she was curious about the women of this country. Surely they could communicate through body language if nothing else!

Arriving at the palace was something of a whirlwind. They were shown into a high-ceilinged, beautifully tiled audience hall with marble and gold sheathed columns and colorful frescoes on the wall. Alice had barely time to take it all in before they were presented to the sultan.

He proved to be a very handsome man in a mixture of traditional and English garb, with a curling mustache and smiling eyes. He bowed to Philip and held out his hand to Alice, and when she made to shake his hand he took and kissed hers, to her great surprise. Before Alice's blush even had time to fade, he exchanged greetings with her husband and immediately gestured to a slim young man standing with head bowed nearby.

"Mrs. Crowley," he said graciously, "this servant shall take you to the women's quarters to socialize with my wives. They are very anxious to meet an Englishwoman--they have met women from many lands, you see, but not an English one. I hope you understand."

"It is my honor," said Alice with a cursy, glancing sidelong at Philip to make sure she was doing the right thing.

Philip smiled briefly at her before turning back to the sultan, and Alice was led away.

They walked through a veritable maze of cool dark hallways, all beautifully detailed and richly accented with gold. Alice knew she would never be able to find her way back without help.

Finally, they came to a set of heavy doors. The man threw them open and sunlight and spilled in, followed by more of that sweet floral scent. They were entering a high-walled garden filled with flowering shrubs and shady old trees. Alice saw a marble fountain and could hear more water in the distance. Her eyes had barely swept the garden before they were drawn to two women reclining alongside the fountain. One rose and came forward to greet her, smiling.

"You must be Mrs. Crowley!"

The woman said, in perfect English. She held out a graceful hand.

"I'm so pleased to meet you!"

"And I you," Alice murmured, in something of a daze.

The woman was tall and slim, with sleek wavy black hair, arched brows, and large elongated brown eyes. She was wearing sheer billowing trousers and an ornately embroidered red vest that fell to her knees over a sheer white undershirt. What Alice immediately noticed was the curve of the woman's uncorseted breasts under the shirt, and how her areolas were just visible through the thin fabric, brown and as large as plums.

"My name is Aisha," the woman said, taking Alice's hand and leading her towards the fountain, "this is my friend and co-wife, Idil."

Now the other woman was coming to greet them. She was attired similarly to Aisha, although in different colors, and was more full-figured than her counterpart. She had eyes of a light hazel that was striking against her brown skin, and her dark ringlets fell unbound over her large breasts. Alice once again found herself resisting the urge to stare at them, her thick nipples pebbling the gauzy fabric of her shirt.

"I'm so happy to meet you both," Alice managed, as Aisha led her to a large cushion.

"Take your jacket off, it is so hot."

The words were spoken as a suggestion, but Aisha was already reaching over to unbutton the spencer jacket. Alice slipped it off, embarrassed and wondering if she was visibly perspiring, as Aisha ran a soothing hand over her collar bone,

"There," the other woman said, laying the jacket aside and handing Alice a sweating golden chalice, "have something cool to drink."

Alice sipped daintily. The drink was ice-cold and tasted of mint and rosewater, a refreshing combination. Alice hesitantly asked if they were the sultan's only wives, and both women laughed. Aisha explained that they were not, but the other women, she said dismissively, were elsewhere.

"We are some of his favorites," Idil offered shyly, exchanging a sly glance with Aisha. Aisha giggled.

"I like having other wives around," Aisha volunteered, "many are my friends and it leaves me plenty of time for leisure. You must be very tired, since you are your husband's only wife."

Alice blushed, feeling as if her mother would appear at any moment and chide her for entertaining such immoral conversation.

"Well, I don't have many household duties at present..." she volunteered slowly.

The women giggled again.

"No, we don't mean that," Aisha laughed, "we mean--in his bed."

Alice could feel her face turning crimson red.

"Oh!" was all she could say.

Aisha took Alice's hand.

"Don't be embarrassed! And we don't need to have any secrets here--actually, Idil and I are curious. We are wondering if English men and women have any--techniques that we do not."

Alice took a long gulp of her drink to buy time, glancing furtively towards the door. The servant who had led her in was nowhere to be seen--maybe that was for the best.

"Techniques?" she finally repeated.

"Yes--for making love," Aisha said frankly, "how do you do it?"

"Um..."

Alice looked towards the door again. She couldn't flee, she had no clue how to get back. And she could hardly explain to her husband why she had rudely fled from the sultan's wives... and wasn't her role to be charming and entertaining? Her behavior was seen as a reflection of her husband. If she displeased the wives, she could jeporize not only her husband's relationship with the sultan, but all of England's. Alice took a deep breath.

"I think we do it as anyone does," Alice said finally, "lying in bed."

"Not everyone does it lying in bed!" Cried Aisha, as Idil hastily butted in,

"Facing each other or from--behind?"

Idil's English was not as good as Aisha's. Alice blinked several times.

"From behind," Aisha reiterated, taking a laughing Idil's hips and maneuvering her around to her hands and knees. Aisha made a thrusting motion against Idil's round behind with her pelvis. "Like this," she said.

Aisha plopped back down on her cushion, laughing.

"I love being taken from behind," she volunteered, "it isn't Idil's favorite but it makes me climax the fastest."

"Climax?" Alice repeated, cocking her head.

"Yes, you know--finish."

"Finish--like a man?"

The two wives looked at each other and burst out laughing. Alice felt mortified, left out of some joke she couldn't even comprehend.

"Don't tell me you've never climaxed! Oh, dear, it looks like we will have to teach you something, and not the other way around!"

Aisha suddenly came quite close to Alice. She fluttered her long lashes, staring into Alice's blue eyes. Suddenly Alice felt a warm hand cupping her breast.

"Your corset feels to stiff," Aisha whispered, "why don't we loosen it so you're more comfortable?"

As if by magic, Idil was there, pulling first at the laces of Alice's dress and then pushing her bodice off her shoulders. Aisha ran her hand over the mounds of Alice's breasts, pushed upwards by her stays.

"Your skin is luminous, like alabaster," Aisha said softly, as she began to pull at the lacing of Alice's stays.

"I'm--I'm not sure this is a good idea," Alice stammered.

"Of course it is! It's just practice. First you'll thank us, and then your husband will," Aisha reassured her. "Do you want me to show you what I'm going to do on Idil first?"

Alice nodded tremulously, clutching the sagging remnants of her clothes around herself, Aisha laughed before giving Alice's breast a squeeze. Then she turned to Idil, who eagerly began undressing herself.

"See how ready she is?" Aisha laughed.

Alice watched in wonder as Idil stripped off her clothes until she was naked. The round globes of her buttocks were no paler than the rest of her bronze skin, and now Alice saw that her breasts were the size of melons and must be just as heavy, cocoa-colored nipples jutting upwards from their apices. Alice's eyes grew big when Aisha took one in her mouth, but Idil closed her eyes and moaned. Aisha tongued the nipple and areola, looking upwards at Idil with something like mischief the whole time. When she stopped and gave Idil's shoulders a little shove, the other woman hastily laid back against the cushions, propping herself up on her elbows. She looked down raptly at Aisha as the woman began to lick, kiss, and bite her inner thighs, moaning and speaking in high-pitched voice in a language Alice didn't understand. Aisha moved, smiling, slowly upwards, towards where the split fruit of Idil's cunt glistened beneath dark curls. She paused just above it, gazing at Idil and smiling until the other woman was obviously begging. Then she descended upon that cleft as if it were indeed ripe fruit, sucking and licking ravenously.

Alice couldn't look away. Idil threw herself back and writhed on the pillows, while Aisha took hold of her thighs and lapped at Idil's flesh. Watching, Alice began to feel her own quim tingle. What is wrong with me, she wondered. Still, she watched. One of Aisha's hands snaked up to take Idil's right nipple, squeezing and then twisting it. Idil screamed, but Alice could tell it was not in pain. Suddenly, Alice realized she was touching her own nipple, imagining her hand was Aisha's. She quickly dropped it in her lap, ashamed.

Idil writhed, her hips lifting off the ground. She reached down and grasped Aisha's hair, as if afraid she would pull away, and Alice saw Aisha fairly grin into her co-wife's pussy. She was noisily slurping there now, and suddenly Idil's back arched off the ground. She screamed, contorting, and then fell back against the ground, panting. Aisha rose up smiling and looked at Alice.

"See?" she said, "surely you'd like to experience such pleasure."

Alice could hardly admit it, even to herself, but she would. Whatever had just happened to Idil was almost frightening in its intensity, but it had clearly been all delight. Philip had never put his face anywhere near her loins, but then again, she would never have let him. She was embarrassed of her intimate parts and secretly feared Philip was disgusted by them.

Alice realized she was breathing heavily, her breasts exposed, so mesmerized had she been by this scene. Aisha approached her, looking her up and down.

"Your nipples are so pink, like a flower," she observed, reaching out to caress Alice's round, pert breasts. Just one finger circling around Alice's areola made her catch her breath, and both nipples contracted and stiffened as a tingling sensation spread from her chest to her loins. Aisha leaned forward and kissed her, slowly, with more care and tenderness than Philip had ever shown her. His kisses were short and perfunctory, but this one felt luxurious, like a sweet to be savored.

Aisha slowly ran her hand down Alice's front and then up her leg. Her muslin dress was already rucked up about her knees, and she gasped when the other woman touched the bare skin above her stockings. Aisha kept reaching, stroking, until she found the apex of Alice's thighs. Alice gasped and her head flew back as Aisha plunged what felt like two fingers into Alice's opening.

"Ahh," Aisha exclaimed with a smile, and she began moving her fingers in and out of the slick, tight opening, "What a ripe peach!"

Alice knew what she meant. Between her thighs wasn't just damp, it was as if she had sat in something wet, and even beneath her skirts the squelching sound of her moisture could be heard, making Idil giggle.

"Did you like watching?" Aisha asked breathlessly.

Alice sat mutely, ashamed but staring up at Aisha imploringly. A shock shot through her as Aisha nudged higher, above her slippery hole, spreading Alice's moisture to glide over the sensitive bud that was concealed in her folds.

"Answer me," Aisha demanded.

"Yes, I liked it," Alice admitted, flushing even more than she already was. She saw Idil was idly stroking her own pussy as she watched them.

"Good," Aisha said, pulling up Alice's skirts so that they bunched around her waist and exposed her sex, "watch now. Look at what I'm doing to you."

Alice obediently looked down, and saw Aisha's two middle fingers repeatedly appearing and disappearing between her pink puffy lower lips.

"Look, Idil!" Aisha squealed, "her hair is pale here too!"

It was true, a small thatch of nearly blonde hair covered Alice's mound. She was too enraptured to be embarrassed. Aisha suddenly reached up and took a fistful of Alice's hair, keeping her head trained down.

"Keep looking," she instructed, and Alice felt that thrill shoot up from her center again.

Suddenly Aisha reached upwards with her thumb and began to caress that little nub, making circles. Alice threw her head back and cried out, regardless of Aisha's hand gripping her hair.

"Oh, God," Alice heard herself cry out.

Aisha moved her head so that Alice was looking into her smiling face.

"That feels good, doesn't it? That's your clitoris. Don't tell me you've never touched yourself there?"

Alice shook her head no, and Aisha laughed merrily.

"Idil and I have so much to teach you."

Idil was crawling over on her hands and knees, and she approached Alice from behind, placing her legs on either side of Alice's body and allowing her to lean back. Idil took a breast in each of her hands and began to squeeze and massage them, rolling and pinching Alice's nipples between her fingers.

"Let's see if you can take another finger," Aisha said, slipping a third in. Alice gasped, and Aisha began to move her hand in and out more rapidly, her palm slapping against Alice's mound. "Your husband must not be very big," she smiled, "you're very tight."

Aisha's fingers glistened with Alice's arousal. With her other hand she began to manipulate Alice's clitoris, and she felt her own back arching as Idil's had done. Idil leant over and took one breast in her mouth, sucking in more than just the nipple, and gave a light but sharp slap to the other breast. It stung, but Alice liked it, and with a scream she felt herself crest the height of her pleasure and then crash down again, her legs shaking and twitched as if she were having a fit.

Aisha looked very pleased with herself as she lowly withdrew her sopping fingers and wiped them on a nearby cloth. Alice lay gasping in Idil's arms, the other woman still holding a breast in each hand and kissing her on the neck.

"Did you like that?" Aisha inquired.

"Oh, yes," Alice gasped weakly, her flushed chest rising and falling heavily.

"I thought you would. Now, take a rest and have a drink. I have other things I want to teach you."