ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance (23 page)

And it was far from over- not by a long shot...

I slowly drifted down from the intense haze of climax, my vision gradually settling back into place, just in time to see him undressing, peeling the remainder of his clothes away like a snake shedding his skin. I had only a brief moment to admire his incredible naked body- the sculpted pecs, the sweaty, heaving washboard stomach, his bulging biceps- before he began to saunter over toward me, and such an intense look of lust in his eyes that I thought I might die by the time he got inside me.

I felt the springs of the bed, creaking with the addition of his weight, and I felt the heat of his body as he proceeded, ever so carefully, to mount me.

I squealed as I felt his hands on my ankles, but loved the feeling all the same of having my legs pushed back up toward my head, my ankles around my ears, and my pussy splayed wide for his consideration.

He climbed up onto me, keeping the legs pinned in place in such a manner that it was pleasantly difficult to breathe, and so that my breasts rolled up toward my chin with the force of gravity weighing down upon them. He looked me one last time in the eyes before I closed them, bracing myself, and biting my lower lips in anticipation.

I gasped as he entered me, my eyes springing immediately wide open once more. He pushed inside me, driving the immensity of himself up, up, up into me, inch by inch by inch of his incredible cock sliding into my body like a train pulling into a station. Finally, at long, long, long last, I felt him touch down inside me, at such a point that I felt that I might not be able to contain another ounce of his flesh should that be a necessity, and that I thought I would explode with pleasure.

He began to grind into me slowly, pulling his way back out of me ever so slightly, and then pushing himself back in tender at first, gentle, as though to make absolutely certain that it was as wonderful for me as it was for him- which of course it was.

And after a few minutes of this, once he was certain that he had the clearance for it, I think- and I say this in such a manner so as not to mince words- he fucked me like an animal...

He crammed his body into me at full blast, grinding himself into my deepest fathoms with fierce velocity, my tits jostling about like wild across my chest, the screams of ecstasy pouring like water from my open mouth.

And, WHAM!

With one final blast of force he hurled himself into me, holding himself in place, and our bodies bursting into an explosion of sensations. His ejaculate poured into me, pulse after pulse of his molten essence spilling into my innermost recesses, filling me up so thoroughly that it spilled back out of me onto the bedspread just as quickly as it could enter.

I came as well, an orgasm at least ten times more intense than the first sweeping across my body, wrapping its arms around me, and squeezing as tightly as possible, my limbs twitching, my body convulsing, and the entire room seeming to disappear around me as I shook with sheer, unadulterated pleasure.

A few weeks later, I discovered that I was pregnant...

I cried at first, thinking that the night I had at last discovered what should have been happiness had resulted in a situation I was not at all prepared for, and certain that Arthur would want nothing to do with me once he found out. I was sure that he would either pay for me to have... A procedure- Something I wasn't at all prepared for... Or else he would simply pay me to just shut up about it and get the hell out of his life, utterly unwilling to further include me in his day to day existence in any such capacity.

I was floored, then, when I told him the news, and found myself wrapped up in his arms, with words of the utmost joy streaming forth from his lips.

As it turned out, he was as terrific a man as I'd suspected from the beginning, and his love for me was every bit as true as he'd professed it to be.

The two of us made love in celebration (me, as much in relief as anything,) and I lay dozing in his arms in the sunlit afterglow, feeling relaxed and serene, as well as more certain about myself and my future than I could ever in my life recall having been...

THE END

Saundra’s classroom was a gentle cacophony of 5th graders talking amongst themselves while they separated into groups. Most classes around their age group were learning from doing quiet book exercises or listening to the teacher lecture, but Saundra preferred a more hands-on method for teaching.

The other teachers liked giving her crap about it, saying she only went the extra mile because she was young. “Give it a few years, you’ll see it doesn’t make any difference and you can save yourself a lot of energy.”

What a horrible way of thinking! Saundra didn’t become a teacher to hang out and get the summers off. She enjoyed working with children, sculpting their minds and helping them learn about the world around them. There were no bad children, just children going through a hard time that haven’t been taught any better way to be. Take lectures for example. It was one thing to tell a student the information, and have them test well on it. It was another to have them actually perform the science or make a fun activity out of the geography homework to help them actually learn the how and the why of it. Then you’re not just teaching a child what to think, but how to think.

Saundra paced around the room slowly as she watched the children in their groups. They had to match certain colors to the nations of the world, but there were no words or labels. They had to do it by shape. They could talk, but raised voices weren’t allowed. Their classroom had neighbors, after all.

Suddenly a boy fell backwards out of a group, and Clark, what some would call a trouble child, came around to stand menacingly over him.

“Clark,” Saundra snapped. She made sure her tone wasn’t aggressive, but she put no hint of fear into it. Saundra was well known as a teacher not to be messed with by anyone.

“He started it!” Clark said immediately.

“Wrong answer.” She helped Jonathan to his feet. “What happened?”

Clark stood with his arms crossed and glared at Jonathan.

Jonathan said, “I didn’t do anything! All I said was that it wasn’t Italy.”

“I know what Italy looks like,” Clark yelled and reached out for Jonathan.

Saundra grabbed Clark by the wrist, twisted her body at the waist, which both twisted his arm and pulled him off balance. She kept him there like that for a moment.

“We do not handle things physically. If you have an issue or a question, you ask me and I will assist you in handling it. When you make the situation physical, you immediately place yourself in the wrong. Am I understood?”

“You’re hurting me!”

“I’m preventing you from hurting someone else. Answer me: am I understood?”

“Yes!”

Saundra pulled him so that he had to take a few steps forward, moving him away from the group, and she released his wrists. “According to school policy when is it okay to fight?”

Clark averted her eyes, which she allowed. She could see the indignant shame in them.

“Never.”

“And in my classroom, my rules, when is it okay to fight?”

Clark looked around, crossing his arms again.

“All right,” she said, then raised her voice. “Class,” she said to get everyone’s attention, “in my classroom, when is it okay to fight?”

“Self-defense,” they all said in unison.

If the principal ever found out she was spreading that rule around, it wouldn’t be pretty for her, but she’d be damned if she was going to raise a class full of victims.

“Clark, Jonathan did not attack you. So why did you become physical with him?”

He shrugged.

“Because he’s stupid,” Jonathan said, which flared up Clark once more.

Saundra took a step between them. “Jonathan, two demerits for provoking him. Get back to work. Clark—“

“I’m not stupid! I was looking at the map upside down. I couldn’t tell what was what.”

“That’s fine, but—“

“They didn’t know where China was. They kept putting it where Australia was. Like they’re the same size.”

“Clark, that’s enough.”

“I’m not stupid, they are!”

“Outside.”

The indignant expression on the young boy’s face shifted into shock and frustration.

“Now.” She pointed to the door to reinforce her point.

He stomped his feet as he went outside and sat in the chair outside of class. Saundra kept her face as still as possible as she continued to go about the room supervising. Now, though, she kept a sharp eye on the clock and an ear out for any commotion outside the door.

Clark came from a broken home, and displayed throughout the school year all of the classic signs of abuse. His inability to express himself, and everything coming out as violence were key signs to that. It was one thing to try and talk to him, but one thing she learned with him was that when he grew too worked up, he needed time away from everyone to calm down.

It was sad, but the same thing worked on her boyfriend. He had so many problems at work, that sometimes when he came home he was just too worked up. If they were to have any sort of an enjoyable night together, she needed to give him his time. When that didn’t work, she had to talk him down.

After five minutes out of the room, she told the class to keep working and stepped out into the hall. Clark was there silently fuming, but looking a bit calmer.

“They’re stupid,” he said defensively.

“Clark, I understand your frustration, but you were in the wrong to push him. We both know you don’t need to be sent to Principal Johnson again.”

He hung his head. “No.”

“No. So, you have a choice. When you go back in there, you can continue misbehaving, and I’ll keep you inside for next recess. Continue misbehaving, and I’ll make sure you’re unable to take part in the afterschool baseball program for the next two weeks.”

He looked up at her, stricken. Saundra lowered herself into a squat so she was eye-to-eye with him.

“You need to understand, Clark, I’m not going to reward bad behavior. If you want positive attention, if you want me and the other children to look at you kindly, you have to act kindly. Do you understand? I won’t allow anyone to bully anyone in my class. So, you can keep name-calling, and pushing, and I can make your life hell.” She held up a finger, “Or, I’ll make you a deal.”

This alternative deal got his attention and he licked his lips quickly in anticipation.

“I have candy in my desk. If you can make it to next recess without name calling, you get one piece of candy. And if – if! – you not only make it to next recess without name calling, but also manage to say something nice to each person in your group, I will give you two pieces of candy.”

She straightened. “This is a secret deal, and I will take it away if you tell anyone that I did this for you. And if you tell anyone, I won’t ever give you this deal again. It’s our secret. Okay?”

He nodded excitedly.

“So, what’s it going to be? No recess or baseball, or candy?”

“Candy,” he said quickly.

“All right,” she said, putting strain in her voice. “You’re going to have to work for it though. Can you do the work?”

He nodded quickly. “I’ll be real nice, you’ll see.”

“Okay. And if you have any more trouble with Jonathan?”

His mouth pulled into a frustrated grimace and she could see that she’d stumped him. He was trying so hard to come up with the answer he thought she wanted, but even though she’d just said it inside, he couldn’t think of it. This was the trouble. When a child was raised in a home of violence, it was the only way they could think to solve any issue.

“Come and…” she said slowly, encouragingly.

“Come and tell you,” he finished.

“Right, good. Can you do that?”

Clark nodded, though this time it was far less enthusiastically.

Saundra opened the classroom door and ushered him back inside.

After finishing up at school, she just tried to breathe and brace herself for coming home. She was hoping Miles was in a good mood. It’d been a trying enough day, and she could use a nice quiet night at home that day.

She loved Miles, without a doubt. No one knew him as well as she did. He’d had a hard life, and like Clark, didn’t know the proper way to react in current situations.

She knew it sounded like any other abusive relationship, but that was just it: Miles wasn’t abusive. He never yelled at her, never called her names, never touched her with anything but affection. He was just a troubled young man with a horrible past.

His father had been a semi-famous criminal. Not exactly the pride of the town. All through his childhood, he was pegged as the son of The Butcher. No matter what Miles did, that was how people viewed him. Without a proper way to test how behavior altered people’s perception of him, along with a childhood of violence, it left Miles woefully incapable of life out in the real world.

That did not mean, however, that Miles was an inherently violent person. If anything, he was one of the sweetest, most genuine people she’d ever met. In everything, he was so earnest to improve himself, to do better. To be better. He just didn’t know how. It was this need to always improve himself, to fix what he knew was broken inside that she had fallen in love with.