The Professor Takes a Second Wife

We were at Caesar's Palace, the honeymoon suite, and it was just starting to get light outside, that predawn greyness, when I was awakened by Ayesha's moaning. Mustafa was on top of her, again; her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, her toes were curled with heels digging into his hips, arms extended over her head, breasts pressed flat against his hairy chest, and he was holding her hands as he kissed her mouth and neck. She was moving her ass at a frenetic pace, her waxed pussy eager to meet every thrust of his big penis.

I watched them for several minutes with a rock hard erection. We had been in that hotel suite with him for two days now, and in that time he had turned my former fiancée, now his second wife, into a cock hungry whore. She couldn't get enough of his thick cock. I was stroking my dick, awaiting my turn when she started to climax; her moans turned to shrieks, and he was panting heavily, mumbling incoherently in Arabic as he flooded her pussy in sperm before collapsing on her.

He was still inside of her when she glanced over at me and smiled when she saw my erection. She nudged Mustafa, "I think he wants to fuck my "buttered bun," their pet phrase to describe her freshly fucked pussy.

He smiled, "Permission granted. You can cowgirl your infidel, but first I must punish you for being such a horny little bitch... a good Muslim wife would be able to control such urges to fuck an impure man." He pulled out of her, then put her petite naked body over his knees and began to spank her ass, hard, "Consider this ten lashes, adulteress."

She was kicking her little feet and pleading with him, "Oh please, not so hard, not so hard." He released her after about ten sharp paddles, and she crept across the mattress on hands and knees to straddle me; I could see a stream of his semen running down the inside of her left thigh. She mounted me and maneuvered her well trained ass perfectly before taking my entire length inside of her wet cunt.

I began to play with her tits, but she slapped my hands away, "No, you can hold my feet, but keep your hands off my tits and ass. You know you don't touch me like that when we're with my husband."

I mumbled a "Sorry," then resigned myself to just enjoy her hot, wet pussy. She was clit grinding on me with a far away look in her eyes, massaging her breasts, when she started mumbling softly, "You like to watch him fuck me don't you; you like watching his cock in my pussy; you like fucking me with all his cum inside of me don't you."

It was ritualistic... she wasn't looking for answers. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mustafa, and damn, he was hard again, stroking his thick cock as he stood by the bed watching us. Suddenly he moved to the my side of the bed, put one foot up on the mattress and, with his hand on the back of Ayesha's head, he guided her mouth onto his penis while fondling her breast. She sucked his cock like she was starving for it while holding his hairy, distended scrotal sack in her small hands.

Mustafa had an evil grin on his face as he stared at me, "My new wife sucks my cock well; look at how greedy that pretty little mouth is. I can feel her tongue too... so good. Let's try something else though."

Mustafa took his cock out of her mouth and pushed her head toward mine, "Put your tongue in his mouth; French kiss him. I'm going to do something to you... something exciting."

Mustafa moved to the dresser and opened the drawer. I was still kissing and fucking my wife as I watched him open a white plastic jar. He dipped his fingers in it, then began to apply what appeared to be some kind of thick lubricant to his penis. He then rejoined us in the bed, kneeling behind Ayesha.

She looked back at him, the let out a squeal. He had pushed a lubed up finger deep into her rectum and was finger fucking her anus. I could feel it too, and knew what he was getting ready to do.

Mustafa continued to finger fuck her, telling her, "Relax, just relax and try to push me out as I push into you."

He withdrew his finger, relubed it, along with his middle finger, then put two fingers in her ass, stretching her anal ring.

Ayesha moaned and collapsed on me. I was holding her tight while looking up at Mustafa, who had an odd smile on his face. He finished stretching her anus and withdrew the fingers, then with his hands on her hips, he positioned himself and with one hand guided his cock slowly and deliberately into her ass.

Ayesha shrieked as he entered her, "Ahhhh, oh fuck, fuck, this is really happening, owwww, fuck."

I could feel Mustafa's cock against mine. He was motionless for a moment, then he started to fuck her. As he thrusted into her, I pulled back, then pushed into her, alternating with him.

Mustafa pulled her up, reached around her belly, and began to play with her clitoris; I could feel his fingers on my cock. With his other hand, he was playing with her nipple. Ayesha's eyes were closed, and she was moaning softly and mumbling incoherently. Then I heard her clearly as she said in a moaning tone, "Fuck my ass, fuck my pussy.... feels so good... so fucking good."

Mustafa heard her too, "Such a good little girl you are Ayesha, satisfying two men like this."

He picked up his pace, as did I, and a moment later, I felt his cock begin to throb against mine. That sensation triggered my ejaculation, and as we both emptied our sperm into her, Ayesha began convulsing, screaming in the throes of an intense orgasm.

As we lay there panting with Ayesha sandwiched between us, Mustafa pulled out first,, and she got up quickly, running for the bathroom with her hand covering her ass. Mustafa laughed as he watched her, "Ladies always do that after taking it in their ass. That was great fun. Ayesha is really something. This is working out well. Have you gotten used to calling her Ayesha?"

I shook my head. "No, hard to get used to."

Ayesha had been Brenda before she went to a mosque and married my professor as his second wife. During that ceremony she took an Islamic name, Ayesha, the name of the favorite wife of the Prophet.

Dr Mustafa Saleh was the head of the Engineering Department at California State University, and I was his graduate assistant and part time instructor. I had just completed my baccalaureate degree in electrical engineering, along with the Naval ROTC course and had been commissioned as an ensign in the Naval Reserve. In receiving the graduate fellowship, I was able to delay my entry onto active duty for three years while I studied for my doctorate. The completion for the fellowship was intense, and I used an unfair advantage to assure my selection, my fiancée Brenda.

I met Brenda during my freshman year in an English class; she was a dance major. She was from the Philippines, very bright with an amazing personality and sense of humor... though it was love at first sight with me, there were a lot of guys interested in her, and she had a steady boyfriend when we first met. I bided my time, made it known to her I was interested, used my NROTC status as much as I could to assure her that she would have a future with me which impressed her parents, and we were planning to be married after I completed graduate school.

Since my only income was from my GI Bill and the NROTC stipend, Brenda started working as a server in the faculty lounge, and that's where she met, or became reacquainted with Dr Mustafa Saleh, Engineering Department chairman at the university. I was studying for a test one night when she came in from work and asked me, "Hey babe, do you know a Dr Saleh?

"Yeah, he's like the big boss in the Engineering Department... I know of him, but we haven't met."

Brenda smiled, "Well thanks to me, he now knows all about you. He's a regular in the lounge, and we've gotten to know each other well since I started working there. He's kind of a flirt." She handed me his faculty business card, "Anyway, he wants you to contact him... I told him you were graduating next semester, and that you were applying for a graduate fellowship. He wants to discuss that with you."

The next day before I went to class, I stopped by his office to made an appointment with his secretary, but he heard me, and invited me into his office. Though I had seen him around quite a bit, I had not had a class with him as he primarily taught and lectured at the graduate level. He was just average in height and weight, balding, with a nicely trimmed mustache and beard. His doctoral degree from MIT was framed and displayed on the wall in back of his desk. He also displayed several autographed photographs of himself and various dignitaries to include an autographed picture of him shaking hands with President Barack Obama.

We chatted about my academic work, my plans for a career in the Navy's nuclear propulsion program, and my desire to do post graduate work at the university. He told me he was not involved in the selection process for the fellowships, but that he had final approval authority. Then the conversation shifted to Brenda.

"So what are Brenda's plans while you do your naval service? She's told me she is working toward a teaching credential, and I think she would make a great teacher."

"Yes sir, she's wanting to teach early elementary school and dance. She's very good with little kids."

Dr Saleh smiled, "I was at a basketball game last season, and I was surprised to see her perform with the dance team at halftime; she's very good. Is she still working at the Crimson Garter?"

That he knew about her work at the "gentlemen's club" came as a shock to me. The Crimson Garter was a strip club near the campus. It was full nude dancing, and some of the dancers were students at the university. Most of the clientele were Navy and Marines, blue collar guys, and some professionals. Brenda was working there when we started dating but quit after she got the faculty lounge job.

"No, she left there after summer break. Between my GI Bill and NROTC stipend, and her job here on campus, we're able to manage. There was a major brawl in that place that she found herself in the middle of, and after the cops interviewed her as a witness, she decided she had enough."

I got a sense that Dr Saleh had picked up on my embarrassment, and he seemed amused as I stumbled through my answer.

He politely nodded at my response then shrugged with a curt, "Probably for the best."

After some more small talk, the professor rose to see me out, "Well good luck with your fellowship selection. As I said, I was not personally involved, but I know the notifications will be coming out soon... guess we'll have to wait and see what comes of it."

Brenda was waiting for me when I arrived at our apartment in student housing with an anxious, "So, how did it go?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. Actually we talked more about you than me. He mentioned he was aware of your work at the strip club. Did you know him from there? I was under the impression you only knew him from faculty dining."

Brenda shook her head, "So he told you that? Yeah, he was a regular on Friday nights, him and his professor buddies. They were a pleasant bunch compared to some of the jerks I had to deal with... good tippers. I danced on him a few times."

I smiled at that, "Seriously? And....?"

With a cute little giggle and quirky hair toss, she replied, "Well, what can I say except that he got his money's worth, and then some when he was with me. I know how to grind cock, as you well know. He's had my nipples in his mouth."

I knew there was more to it, so I asked, "Must be kinda awkward now seeing him in the lounge everyday.... anything else?"

She was expressionless when she replied, "Yeah, he has a big, fat cock, and there were a couple of occasions where he made me come. He was the only guy who ever got me off like that, and I had kinda of a crush on him after that first time. I fantasized about fucking him for real. Something else too, he liked to watch me."

"What do you mean, 'Watch you?"

Brenda smiled, "Yeah, he'd pay the bouncer to let him watch me lap on other dudes. I knew what was going on, and me and the bouncer would split the money. Your professor is kinda twisted."

Three days later, the letter came. I held the envelope in my hands, just staring at it, for a minute or two. It my academic and professional future depended on the content of that letter.

I finally took the letter out and read it, twice. It wasn't good, "Thank you for your interest, we regret to inform... blah blah blah." I set the letter down on the breakfast bar, resigned to the fact that I would be reporting for my Navy active duty commitment come summer.

Brenda had been in class most of the day, and got back to the apartment around the dinner hour, saw the letter, and read it, mumbling, "Mother Fuckers," as she crumpled it up and threw it against the wall. "We'll see about that."

"It's okay babe, I'll be in nuclear power school for about a year, and that will give you time to complete your credential. After my initial sea duty tour, I can apply for post graduate study and get my masters degree; we'll be okay."

Brenda was defiant and seemingly more pissed off, by far, than me, "Yeah, well fuck that... like I said, this ain't over."

A couple days later, I was crossing the quad, on my way to a class, when I saw Brenda entering the Engineering Building, normally not unusual because she knew my class schedule and often showed up unannounced, but this was different. She was wearing her workout gear, black dance leggings, a favorite pink sweater she liked to wear when going braless, and her trademark dance team ball cap worn backwards.

I was like, "What the hell?"

I followed her in and watched her enter Saleh's office. As I walked by, I saw an exasperated secretary throw up her hands as Brenda passed by her desk, waving off her objections, as she entered the inner office followed by the professor's secretary. I waited in the hallway for several minutes before I had to leave for my class, but I might as well have ditched it. My mind was elsewhere.

Dr Saleh was on the telephone when Brenda barged in, "Brenda? What.... Jeffrey, let me call you back in a few."

The secretary was animated, "I'm sorry Dr Saleh, she just..."

Dr Saleh held up his hands, "It's okay Elizabeth, I'll see her. Please close the door." He came out from behind his desk and offered Brenda a chair. He started with an attempted greeting, but she cut him off.

"John got turned down for his fellowship. That means a lot to him.... us; what can you do about it?"

The professor was taken aback. This wasn't the current version of Brenda, the faculty lounge server. This was the feisty Filipina stripper from his past. Her long, black hair down over her shoulders, that pink sweater clinging to her ample breasts with the outline of her nipples clearly visible. She had her leggings pulled up tight, and the sight of that camel toe triggered old memories and a serious stirring in his loins.

"Brenda, please sit down." He sat down next to her, "I know, I was going to call him myself, but I need to know, have you told him about us?"

"He knows you were a customer at the club, and he knows I danced on you... that's all I told him."

"What was his reaction"

"He was cool with it. He knows I've been with a lot of guys, so he was even kind of amused when I told him you made me come. I told him you got a fat dick."

"Does he know about us, you know how we...?"

"Brenda finished the sentence, "How we partied? How we fucked? No, he doesn't. I think he'd be okay with it if I told him. I've told him about other guys I was with, and what we did; he gets turned on. Do you remember that Samoan bouncer we had, the one who played football here?"

Dr Saleh nodded, "Yeah, that was Timo, the guy I had to bribe to let me watch you. Were you two an item?"

"Fuck buddies mostly. He was big like you. John knew we were together. Timo used to make me masturbate for him... John liked those stories.

Dr Saleh interrupted with a laugh, "As I recall you liked my fat dick in that hot pussy. Is there any chance we...."

Brenda nodded, put her finger to her lips, and stood, "Shhhh, get rid of your secretary."

Dr Saleh picked up his phone, "Barbara, please call the Dean, and tell him I won't be able to meet with him at 2 o'clock... something has come up. I'll call him to reschedule. And you can take the rest of the afternoon off."

When he hung up the phone, Brenda took her cap off and shook her hair. Without a word, she removed her sweater and tossed it to him. Her breasts we're spectacular, perfect in every way. She cupped them in her hands and used her index fingers to tease her dark brown nipples which instantly hardened like extra large Hersheys Kisses. He clearly recalled how her petite body shuddered, and how she squealed when he had those nipples in his mouth, sucking them, biting them.

"You like that, huh?" Brenda knew she had him now. Turning away, she stepped out of her sandals, and slowly pulled down her leggings, while wiggling her heart shaped ass suggestively. She ran her fingers through her hair, then placed her hands on her ass and parted it slightly, giving the professor a brief glimpse of her anus and pussy before turning and standing naked before him.

Pointing to her vagina, she asked, "Do you remember this?"

The professor sat up in his chair and reached for his crotch, as if to adjust himself; Brenda could see he was hard. "Looks familiar but she's grown a beard since I saw her last."

Brenda giggled, "Yeah, you like me stripper trimmed. Maybe I'll see what I can do about that."

She moved closer, placed a bare foot on his knee, and thrust her pussy at him, "Touch it."

The professor placed his hand between Brenda's legs, parting her thick labia with an index finger. She was wet like morning dew, and moaned softly when he moved the web of his hand over her clitoris, "Oooohhh, mmmm, finger fuck me."

The professor slipped one, then two fingers inside Brenda, and she clamped down on him with her pelvic muscles. That was the pussy he remembered. He preferred petite women, but they often proved to be shallow.... not this one. Though petite, Brenda had a deep, tight cunt; she could take his entire length and loved it.

Brenda put on her music, "LA Woman" began to play, and Brenda was moving to the beat, slow at first. The professor was captivated as she moved her hands over her body, rather innocently at first, just brushing her hard nipples with her finger tips, tracing the contour of her hips with her hands, and occasionally touching her vulva. As the tempo picked up, she responded in kind, twerking her heart shaped ass just inches from his face, parting her cheeks to show him her sex. At one point she put her bare foot on the armrest of his chair and her pussy in his face, parting her labia and exposing her erect clitoris, Smell that? Want that?"

Mustafa could smell her, and he did want her. He scrambled out of his clothes and laid back in his chair, stroking his cock. He was just average in height, maybe even below average, and very thin, a distance runner's build. His body, chest, legs, shoulders, butt, and back was covered with soft, black hair, but what he lacked in physical stature was made up for in his genitals. His uncircumcised penis was long, thick, and almost black in color. His hairy, scrotal sack was distended, holding testicles the size of hen's eggs. Brenda remembered how his big balls would slap on her ass when they fucked missionary.

Brenda licked her lips and moved close, turning and brushing her ass on his cock, then turning again, she took his hand and put it between her legs. Mustafa could feel her wetness, but when he tried to penetrate her, she skipped away, shaking her finger at him, "Oh no, not yet."

She danced away, then knelt down on all fours, put her hands on her ass and spread herself, showing her anus and pink, again twerking. She finger fucked herself briefly, then got up and put her wet fingers in Mustafa's mouth.

"I wanna suck your cock now."

Without another word, she knelt before him and began placing wet kisses up and down his shaft while she massaged his testicles, "Mmmm, that's that dangerous Arab cock I remember." He was holding her head, stroking her hair when she took him in her mouth; it wasn't long before she had him moaning like he was getting his first real blow job.

After a few minutes, Brenda paused, "Remember how you liked it when I used my tits on you? Get down on the floor."

Brenda knelt beside the professor, and swept his torso and genitals with her long, black hair before taking him in her mouth again, "Mmmmm, I love this cock... you want to put it in me don't you."

Mustafa smiled, then gasped as she pulled back his foreskin and drilled his male G spot with the tip of her tongue, "Oh damn, that feels so good.... so good."

Brenda then lowered her breasts onto his body, dragging them across his chest, stomach, and penis. Her nipples were rock hard, and Mustafa could feel them as they traced circular patterns in his hairy torso and genitals. He began to finger fuck her, but she moved her hips over his face, "Use your tongue on me... I want 69."

Mustafa pressed his face into her pussy, taking her clitoris between his lips while she sucked his cock. His nose was against her anus when she started grinding her pubis hard against his mouth. He moaned slightly when his jaw cracked from the pressure. Holding her ass tightly, he rolled their bodies to the side and continued to tongue fuck her, switching occasionally to her anus. He was sucking hard on her labia when she had enough of that and pulled away.

Brenda put a sofa pillow under Mustafa's ass and straddled him, mumbling, "I want it all," then guided his cock into her pussy. Her back was arched, breasts pushed out, and mouth slightly open, while she moved her ass, taking in his entire length while pressing her clitoris against his thick pubic hair. She smiled when she felt his wet finger pressing on her anus, thinking, "He hasn't changed... loves my asshole."

It didn't last long. In his highly aroused state, Brenda was able to finish him off in just a few minutes, faking an orgasm and squirting as he came inside her.

I was sitting at our kitchen table when Brenda came in. She tossed her bag and hoodie on the sofa and pulled up a chair, "I just had a talk with Dr Saleh... well, more than a talk. He has a proposition for you, but there are strings attached... big strings."

I was puzzled, "What are you talking about?"

Brenda frowned, then smiled, "You know, while I was dancing at the club, your professor was one of my regulars, and I did a lot more than dance for him. We were fucking, and he paid me. I think you know I was with a lot of guys while I was doing that, and, well, he was one of them. He paid me a lot of money."

I had suspected as much, when she told me he seemed infatuated with her, "So, what's going on here? What is he going to propose?"

Brenda smiled, "Propose... funny you should use that word. He's prepared to offer you a graduate fellowship, all expenses paid, including campus housing, and a part time instructor contract on top of that, 20 hours a week. So we'll actually be able to live, buy a decent car, go out to dinner on occasion, and when you get your doctorate, he has connections to get you assigned to the Department of Energy as a naval liaison. You won't have to do sea duty."

That sounded pretty good. A Department of Energy assignment as a naval officer was the ticket to a very lucrative career, but.....

"So what are the 'big strings?'"

Brenda had a serious look on her face now, "Sex... all about sex. He wants to take me as a second wife for the duration of your fellowship and contract. I have to become a Muslim, and I'll spend two nights a week with him and his wife. He's also going to want you involved."

I shook my head, "Me? How would I be involved?"

Brenda smiled and nodded, "Yes, you. I told you he likes to watch me with guys... that's where you come in. He wants to watch me fuck you, and he wants threesomes. Occasionally, he'll come to our place, and we'll spend the night with him. And when the two of you travel for conferences and seminars, I'll come along."

She picked up on the quizzical look on my face and added, "Look, it's all bull shit. As far as becoming a Muslim, you know I don't believe in that shit, but I have to go through the motions, you know wear those stupid Muslim clothes their women do when I'm with him, a hijab or burqa. The marriage itself is only temporary, they call it a "nikah mu'tah," in effect for three years while you're in school."

Brenda could sense that I was hesitant, "Look, you know I've been with him before, and you know you get turned on thinking about me with other men. This will get us everything we've always wanted, and it will jump start your career."

The next day, Brenda met Dr Saleh at his office, and they drove to a mosque in East San Diego. Brenda was wearing a burqa, a black full length garment with a veil that completely covered her head and face; translucent, so she could see clearly through it. She was shivering as they walked through the parking, and Mustafa noticed her erect nipples when a stiff breeze blew her burqa flat against her chest.

"You're not wearing a bra?"

Brenda laughed, "No, no panties either. This whole thing is a big turn on for me."

"Did you remember to remove all of your pubic hair? Muslim women must be completely hairless down there."

Brenda nodded, "Look, I'm taking this seriously. I'm completely hairless, legs, arms, armpits, and pussy... wanna check?"

As they entered the mosque, they were met by the Imam, an elderly Shiite cleric who was wearing an imamah or turban and a white kaftan robe. After a brief embrace, Dr Saleh introduced him as Sheikh Ahmed, an old friend from Lebanon. Brenda remembered him though as a regular at the Scarlet Garter.

The Sheikh was a big man with a long white beard, well over six feet tall, and at least 250 pounds. He took Brenda's hand and held it, "So Brenda, you are to be married today, and you are prepared to join our religion?"

Brenda pulled the veil back over her face and nodded, "Yes Sheikh."

The Sheikh glanced at Dr Saleh, who nodded, then turned back to Brenda, "Have you picked an Islamic name?"

Brenda turned to Dr Saleh who placed his hands on her shoulders, "She will be called Ayesha."

The Sheikh smiled and nodded in approval, "Yes, a good choice... Ayesha played an important role in early Islam. Well, let's go to my office and sign the marriage contract, but first the ablution.

The sheikh guided Brenda, now Ayesha, to the women's ritual bathing area and instructed her to wash her hands, face, and feet. When she finished, she joined the men in the office and signed several document, all of which were in Arabic. The sheikh then gave her a small card written in transliterated Arabic and explained, these words have to be spoken in Arabic, but they mean, 'There is only one God, Allah, who created the entire universe, and Muhammad (peace be upon him) is his Prophet.' You say this in the position of submission... do you know what that is?"

Ayesha smiled, "Yes, I understand the position. My new husband has instructed me." She then shot a glance at Dr Saleh who was pursing his lips stifling a smile.

The Sheikh pointed to the card he had given her, "You say these words, and then you become a Muslim woman for the rest of your life. Are you prepared to do that?"

Ayesha nodded, "Yes, I want this."

They moved to the prayer room where the Sheikh directed Ayesha to a prayer rug, and she assumed the position. Her forehead was pressed close to the prayer rug. Her ass was up, and her bare feet peeked out from the hem. She didn't see it, but the Sheikh passed a wad of bills to Dr Saleh, who smiled and nodded toward her

Ayesha said the words, then felt the Sheikh's hand on her hip, "Stay there Ayesha, don't move."

A moment passed, then Ayesha was startled when she felt her burqa being pulled up over her hips, exposing her sex. She turned when she felt a large calloused hand on her ass; it was the Sheikh.

"Keep your head down Ayesha... don't move."

Ayesha obeyed him and remained still. She spread her knees apart, tilting her hips, and pushing her vagina back at him. She could feel his finger trace a line, starting at the small of her back, down her anal cleft, pausing at her anus where he applied slight pressure in a circular motion, and Ayesha gasped. She recalled one of her girlfriends at the club telling her about this guys big cock, and knew now she was going to feel it.

She reached back between her legs and felt herself, but the Sheikh gently pushed her hand away, "Your pussy is very wet child... that's good, very good."

The Sheikh ran his fingers up and down between Ayesha's swollen labia and toyed gently with her clit. She could feel his thick beard on her ass... knew he was taking in her scent. Then she heard him spit as he moved behind her.

Ayesha turned back as the Sheikh pulled his kaftan up over his head, and saw he was naked and erect. He was big, significantly bigger than John, and even thicker than Mustafa. His cock loomed, bobbing like an angry snake with precum venom dripping from its purple tip.

The Sheikh rubbed his glans up and down on her vaginal orifice, wetting it on her slit, then grasped her hips and drove his big cock all the way into her wet cunt. She gasped as she felt him against her cervix. He was motionless for a moment, then started to move, slow and deliberate at first, then faster as her pussy became wetter. She was moaning loudly now, trying her best to respond to his thrusting and size. She felt his hands massaging her breasts with her nipples scissored between his fingers. As they fucked, the Arabic words she spoke when accepting Islam replayed on a loop in her mind, "There is no God but Allah, There is no God but Allah."

Ayesha was twisting dog style on the Sheikh's cock, when he suddenly flipped her over onto her back and began to fuck her missionary... Dr Saleh looked on, seemingly passive, but his cock was rock hard. Watching his new wife with other men was his thing. He could never get his first wife to agree to such a thing, but this girl, Ayesha, was a little fucking machine. His cock was in his hand as he watched his old friend fuck her. She was barely visible under the Imam's girthy body... he could see her face, mouth open, eyes closed, her hands on his shoulders, and her feet with toes curled and heels digging into his hips.

Ayesha saw her new husband masturbating and made eye contact with him and smiled, thinking to herself, "This is so fucking far out." She watched her husband ejaculate and then began to move her ass like it was on fire. Her orgasm hit just as the Sheikh's cock began to throb as he came with spurts of hot sperm from this pious Muslim holy man hitting deep inside her.

During the drive home, there wasn't much in the way of conversation. Dr Saleh dropped her off at her apartment, and as she was getting out of the car, he mentioned, "Our honeymoon will be at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas in two weeks. John is invited as it coincides with a seminar at the convention center. Call me in the morning, and we'll set up our schedule."