I saw her eyes flicker from the directness of what I'd asked; she was just as direct when she replied "When I could feel you, while you were holding me… you were being so gentle and considerate… that I could imagine what you would be like that way, and I began to feel my own desire."
Hearing that threw me for a few moments before I could ask "What would you have me do with you?" If anything was going to happen between us, I damn sure didn't want to push her too hard – so I needed to get at least some idea of where the line was. Still, I wasn't prepared to hear her say "I only know about one thing, from him. But before I married him, I knew that there are a lot of other things that a man and woman can do together. If you will teach me, I want to learn about them."
That was a pretty open-ended response, to be sure; but I didn't figure that I'd be suggesting anything too outrageous to her. The last thing I needed to be sure of was that she really was open to the idea of physical intimacy with me. I addressed that question by gently guiding her to stand in front of me, then softly cupping her face in my hands while I tilted my head down and chastely kissed her on the lips.
It wasn't but a moment before she had her hands in my hair as she kissed me back, moving even closer to me so that her body was touching mine.
When our lips parted, we looked into each others eyes as I told her "Saleh, if you think that I could make being with a man a good thing for you, then I will consider it a priveledge to try."
She smiled and nodded as I saw tears of what I thought were happiness begin to well up in her eyes; but she quickly got control of herself and told me "Thank you, Jim" with quiet sincerity.
That settled, I released her so that I could turn around to close and lock the door that I'd left open – I'd only expected to be there for as little time as possible, and had left it open so as to avoid giving her any cause for concern, little suspecting what would happen instead…
As I was doing that, I couldn't help but wonder if closing the door wouldn't cause her to have second thoughts; but when I turned to face her again, she looked every bit as certain as she'd been before. As we looked at each other, I took the opportunity to tell her "If we are going to do this, then I want you to know that I am not going to 'push' you to do anything, or be angry or upset with you if there's something you don't want to do – I'm not that kind of person, anyway. You've said that you would like to learn from me, and I am perfectly willing to help you discover those things that you want to learn. But if it happens that I start to teach something you don't want to learn, you only have to say so, and that will be the end of it. You are an intelligent, good, and very pretty young lady, and all I want is that you enjoy what happens between us, and think kindly of me when our time is finished."
I saw her gain a little confidence at hearing that, and listened as she answered "Thank you, again, Jim. From everything you've said and done, I know that I don't have to worry about what happens while I'm with you. I'll admit that I'm still a little bit nervous, and even afraid – not because of you, but because of me. Don't be afraid to offer me things to learn, and don't think that you have to worry about hurting or frightening me. I'm sure that I want to do this, and I know that I CAN do it, if you'll help me."
After that, she stepped forward a bit and took me by the hand to lead me over to the bed. Turning to face me again, she looked up at me and smiled as she said "Please, Jim… help me learn that I don't have to be afraid any more."
After I softly kissed her forehead, which surprised her, I replied "I would be honored. Can I start by taking that… whatever-it-is off of you?"
She shook her head 'no', and crossed her arms as she reached down to take hold of it. Pulling it up over her head, she rid herself of it and revealed that she'd been wearing very modest street clothes underneath. Only then did I realize how uncomfortable she must have been in it – not just that day, but all the time she'd had to spend dressed that way in the heat of the Middle East. When she'd tossed the thing off to the side with a self-satisfied flourish, she looked at me again to say "The first one of those that I ever wore was put on me by women in his family. Now I'm taking off the last one of them I'll ever wear!"
Hearing that, I understood that that simple act was her way of declaring her independence, and reclaiming her freedom. I made a small show of applauding her – causing her to blush – before taking her hands in mine and kissing them. When I was done, she mischievously told me "Now, if there's anything else you want to take off of me, that's up to you…"
Looking at the long-sleeved blouse she was wearing, and the ankle-length skirt below it, I couldn't spot any kind of fasteners. I softly put my hands on her shoulders, and she let me gently guide her to turn around; as my limited experience with women's clothing had me believe, the back of the blouse had the buttons, while the zipper for the skirt was similarly located. When I reached for the top of the blouse, Saleh tilted her head forward and pulled her hair out of the way; that gave me the opportunity to softly kiss the back of her neck. She shivered faintly and turned her head to give me a pleased smile before I started working my way down the buttons of the blouse. I'd gotten half of them undone when the blouse parted enough for me to see that she wasn't wearing a bra. That discovery had all kinds of Evil Thoughts running through my mind, but I maintained both my composure and the pace I was working at: I'd said I wanted to make our time good for her, and I was determined not to screw it up.
When I'd finished with the last of the buttons, it was easy enough to slip the bottom of the blouse out of her skirt; my next considered action was to slip my hands underneath the material of it and slide them around her until my palms were resting between her breasts and her navel. My thinking was that it was better to ease into intimacy with her, rather than heading straight for the fun bits. When she put her hands on mine, I leaned forward a bit and used my chin to nudge the collar of the blouse out of the way so that I could kiss her on the shoulder. That small act earned me a soft moan, so I repeated it on the other side, with much the same result. Only then did I move my hands a little to softy caress her belly – carefully staying away from her breasts – for a few moments before bringing my hands around to her sides, then finally easing the blouse off her shoulders and then off of her completely.
I have to admit to being more than a little pleased when she didn't cross her arms over her chest, or do anything else to cover herself; she simply waited for me to continue with undressing her.
The next thing, of course, was to see what waited for me under the skirt. I unzipped it slowly, followed by using my hands to trace her curves as I guided it over her hips and down her legs, then moving it out of the way when she'd stepped out of it. Along the way, I learned that she was wearing a pair of very brief panties and a pair of very sheer stockings – sans garter belt.
As I'd thought, she had a delightful shape: medium-framed, nicely curved in all the right places, a small heart-shaped ass, and a pair of legs that went from here to there in a MOST attractive way.
That left me with something of a problem, though: as nice as her legs looked in the stockings, did I want to leave them on her? Or would it be more fun to get them off of her? Decisions, decisions…
I finally settled on getting her out of the stockings; the idea of being able to get my hands directly on her legs was what finally decided the matter. I took my time about rolling them down her legs, savoring every moment of the process. When I finally reached for the waistband of her panties, I could faintly detect the aroma of aroused female; it was then that I knew that I could help her learn to enjoy physical intimacy. Before then, though, I still had the task of getting the last bit of clothing off of her. Her panties easily slid down her hips and soon revealed the smooth orbs of her ass. Once I'd gotten her panties down her legs and she'd stepped out of them, I simply had to lean forward and kiss her: once at the top of the crack of her ass, and again on each cheek.