A Perfect Woman

The effect on me was hypnotizing and I stood there frozen in place.

She laughed, "Is something wrong?"

"I ... I ... I didn't think Muslim women were allowed to dress like that," I stuttered.

Gently, taking me by the arm she drew me inside the house as she explained.

"According to the Quran, it is very important for a woman to look good for her husband, just as it is important for the man to be neat and well-groomed to gratify his wife. That means I can use make-up, wear jewelry and even use perfume. I can even do it in public so long as it doesn't make me sexually attractive to other men. Unfortunately, with my looks," she blushed as she looked down at herself, "I've been told that it's hard for others not to find me attractive. That's why I normally wear a niqab or hijab when I leave the house. "

"They're right. You are gorgeous," I said to myself.

"Besides ... today is special," she laughed.

Once in the house, we again headed to the courtyard but this time it was filled with other people and a group of musicians were playing lively music while several people danced near the fountain.

"My mother's side of the family," she whispered to my questioning look.

I looked around, "My father?"

"Business," was her only answer.

For the next several hours, laughter and joy filled the house. For a while, I even got up and attempted to join in the dancing. Then, as if by some unspoken command, people began to throw colored powder everywhere. Blues, greens, reds, yellows, oranges, purples ... every color of the rainbow soon covered the courtyard and everyone in it before we exited into the street.

Out of respect, those not dressed in Hindi garb were avoided but everyone else; friend, foe, neighbor or stranger was a target. Unfortunately, even with the greatest of care the powder began to fly everywhere and more than once I heard the soft laughter or giggling of others as they brushed the powder off their clothing before continuing on.

When things finally began to slow down, I was covered from head-to-foot with various colors and Sarah was even worse. If not for the matha patti headdress, I probably wouldn't have even recognized her.

"Come," she said, joyously. "We need to get cleaned up. My family has invited us to their house for dinner."

"Your family?"

"YES!!" she almost yelled happily. "Holi is a festival of forgiveness and cleansing. It is also the one day of the year when my mother is in charge of the house so ..." she left the rest unsaid.

"I didn't bring any extra clothes. Give me the address and I'll meet you there after I get cleaned up."

"No time," she said as she began to pull me through the crowd. "You can wash-up at our house and I'm pretty sure some of your father's clothes will fit you."

Minutes later, I found myself standing under the shower in my father's house, the events of the day running through my mind as I hummed one of the tunes I'd heard the musicians playing earlier.

"That's one of my favorites," a soft voice whispered from behind me.

I spun around and almost stumbled as I saw her standing there completely nude. "Sarah!?"

"Shhhhhhh," she whispered. "I thought you might need some help getting all the powder off."

Once again I stood frozen in place, this time taking in the full beauty of the woman in front of me. Her blue eyes seemed to twinkle as if laughing at me, while her black hair cascaded down over her shoulders all the way to the crease over her buttocks. Her skin was a light-tawny shade of brown and at a petite 5-foot, 3-inches tall she could have easily passed for a woman half her age if not for her figure.

Her breasts were full and capped with dark nipples that seemed to be growing and hardening before my eyes. Her waist seemed almost child-like in comparison and then flared out to a well-rounded set of hips. (It wasn't until much later that I found out her measurements were 32G-25-37).

My cock began to harden the moment I laid eyes on her and she snickered.

"I've been known to have that effect on men," she purred as her fingertips began to trace delicate patterns across my chest.

"What about my father?"

"Don't worry about him," she replied nonchalantly. "I know that he spends time with other women when he's on his business trips. I even found a couple of receipts from hotels and bars one time. When I confronted him about it he just said 'Men will be men' so now I don't let it bother me anymore."

"But what about ...?" I never got to finish as she finished my comment.

"My beliefs? I told you earlier today is special. Today I'm celebrating my Hindi side which is much more open regarding what goes on between a man and a woman. After all, what kind of a hostess would I be if I didn't help get all the powder off you and maybe," she glanced down at my now erect cock, "help take care of that. I mean, what kind of impression do you think you'd make if the first thing into my parent's house was your hard cock?"

I didn't know what to say as I felt her hand slide down my chest and over my stomach before gently wrapping around my shaft.

"Mmmmmm, a big one," she murmured. "In fact, it's much bigger than your father's."

The mention of my father instantly made my cock begin to soften.

"I don't think so," she said as she dropped of her knees. "With all that dancing and bouncing around I need this too," she moaned as she leaned forward and kissed the head of my cock.

Instantly, it hardened again and stood out directly in front of me pointing at her lips.

"Mmmmmm ... one of the advantages of being with a younger man."

Since she was only 6 years older than me, I wasn't quite sure what she meant by 'younger' but at that moment I didn't really care either.

Her hand began to glide up and down my wet shaft as she used just the fingertips of the other hand to tickle my balls. In all my life, I'd never felt anything so exciting. My cock jumped in her hand and she giggled.

"Somebody likes what I'm doing."

"Oh yeah," I moaned as I leaned back against the shower wall to keep from falling over.

"What about this then?" she asked as she slid her fingers from my balls upward and gently probed the opening to my ass.

"Not so much," I grunted.

"I understand. I'm not much into ass play myself," she hesitated, "UNLESS I'm in the right mood."

"Ahhhhhh," I groaned. "I may need to remember that."

"I hope you do," she whispered, "because I hope this is just the beginning for us."

"Shhhhhhh," I hissed as her hand returned to my balls, this time gently squeezing them.

"So you like that?" she teased. "Do you think I'm good at it?"

"Yes. You're very good. Very, very good."

She gave my cock a squeeze. "Really?"

"And you're so fucking beautiful. I haven't been able to keep my eyes off of you since the first day we met."

"So, you think I'm beautiful?" she asked as she tightened her hand around my cock and gave it a couple of hard jerks.

"Arrgghhhhh, you're gonna make me cum if you keep doing that."

Her fist began to slide up and down my shaft faster and she looked up at me. "You know what I thought? When I first saw you?"

"What?" I asked as I gritted me teeth together in hopes of prolonging what was about to happen.

"I thought you were one of the most handsome men I'd ever seen. Maybe that's part of the reason I've been fantasizing about this ever since then."

"What else did you like about me?" I asked, trying to concentrate on what she said instead of what she was doing.

She moved closer to my cock, switching hands when she got tired. "I liked the way you stood up to your father and didn't take any of his bullshit," she continued as she lifted my shaft and kissed the area between my base and ball sack.

It felt like I had been hit by a bolt of lightning as my body stiffened and a groan escaped from between my pursed lips.

"Is this okay?" she asked already knowing the answer.

"OKAY!?!?! You're driving me fucking nuts!"

"I like nuts," she teased as she gently sucked one of my balls into her mouth, teasing and probing at it with her tongue.

"Sarah," I croaked.

"Hmmmmmm," she hummed around my entrapped ball.

"Ohmigod, that feels so ..." But I couldn't think of a word to describe what I was feeling.

She squeezed and I moaned in ecstasy. Her hand was like a velvety vice gliding up the length of my cock and all I could think about was what I wanted to do to her or rather what I wanted her to do to me. "Suck me. Suck my cock," I whispered.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to ask," she replied as she pulled away and stared at my cock as if memorizing every inch.

I was dying for her to put it in her mouth. I wanted to feel her lips wrapped around my shaft but I didn't want to force her. It was all I could do to not thrust my hips forward and slam it down her throat. I instinctively put one hand on the back of her head, but resisted the temptation to push her face into my lap.

She continued to pump my shaft, as her other hand cupped my balls, applying just enough pressure. Then, she leaned forward and I felt her tongue lightly lick the head. She took a little taste and backed off. "Mmmmmm, salty, just the way I like it," she purred. After a minute, she stuck out her tongue and licked the shaft all the way to the base.

I couldn't help it, but my hand was pressing against her head a little now.

"Do you want me to?" she whispered, feeling the push.

"Gawd, yes but only if you want to."

"Ohhhhh, I want to," she replied as she leaned forward, this time taking the head between her lips.

"ARRRGGHHHHH," I groaned.

She probed the slit at the tip for a few seconds before taking the whole shaft into her mouth, sucking on it until her cheeks collapsed inwards. The feeling went right down to my toes and I instinctively, began to pump in and out, fucking her face. Her hand became a blur as it ran up and down.

"I'm gonna cum," I said, warning her

She pulled back, releasing my cock with a 'pop' before she said, "I want you to. I want you to cum but ... not in my mouth or on my face. I have to greet my family later," she hesitated before continuing. "I want you to cum here," she finished as she lifted her tits. "I want you to cum all over my tits. I want you to cum on them until it coats them and drips off my nipples. But first I want you to fuck my tits. I want to feel your cock sliding up and down between them," she finished as she knelt upwards and wrapped her tits around my shaft forming a wondrous tunnel of soft, warm flesh.

Then, without another word, she began to move so it slid up and down between her orbs.

Not to be outdone, I rested my hands on her shoulders for support and flexed my hips to match her tempo, driving my cock up through her tit tunnel until the head bumped against her chin.

"I think I like that," she giggled, "but I like this more," she said as she tilted her head downwards.

This time when my cock came up from between her tits, the head popped into her mouth for the briefest of seconds before I withdrew.

Over and over we thrust against each other until I felt a familiar tingling start deep in my groin. "Almost there," I wheezed.

"Me too. Just a little bit ..." she faltered and for the first time I noticed that while I had been fucking her tits she'd been playing with her nipples; pinching and pulling them until they looked like extra-large erasers.

That sight was all it took to break through the last bit of resistance I had. "Cummmiiinnnggggggg," I groaned, the word echoing in the confines of the shower.

"Me too," she moaned as she knelt frozen in place as her body trembled.

Strand after strand of cum rocketed from the tip, splashing across the upper portion of her globes and under her chin. As I watched I realized I'd never cum so much in my life and yet my cock continued pulsing as the cum slid down to lubricate the tunnel between her tits or to cling to her nipples like pearls.

Suddenly, unable to hold myself up any longer, I slid to the floor and sat with my back against the wall. I watched Sarah as her body trembled and shook as she continued to play with her nipples until, with one final shudder, she leaned forward so her head was on my chest.

Time seemed to stand still as my arm wrapped around her and held her close. It could have been moments or hours before she began to stir and sit up, it didn't really matter as far as I was concerned.

"I guess we better get ready?"

"Ready?"

"To go to my parent's house," she said as she sat up and saw the amount of cum still coating her tits. "No time to get washed up again so I guess ..." she said as she massaged my cum onto her tits until it slowly disappeared. When she looked up she saw the questioning look on my face. "It is one of the best skin conditioners known," she teased.

"Oh," was all I could think to say.

Thirty minute later we entered her parent's home. Her father stood at the far end of the room staring at us until her mother, not so politely, pushed him towards Sarah saying, "This is Holi, a day of family and forgiveness. Now, hug your daughter and show her that she IS part of this family."

As he walked to Sarah it was if a heavy burden was being slowly dropped from his shoulders so when he stood in front of her it was with his arms open. "My daughter," was all he said.

Sarah collapsed into his embrace and the two of them cried while whispering soothing words to each other. It was only after they were finished that her father seemed to notice me and ask who I was.

"This is Kevin. He is ... ummmm ... a co-worker and the son of my hus ..."

"Hush," her father said sternly. "We will not talk of that person in this house. YOU are welcome to visit anytime you want but he will never be allowed."

For a second, I thought I was going to be told to leave.

Instead, her father looked at me and smiled. "In this house a man is not judged by the actions or mistakes of his family. Please come, join us."

So I did and for the rest of the evening, I laughed and enjoyed myself in a way that I hadn't since my mother had died. Towards the end of the evening the women slowly moved to another room to talk and laugh, leaving Sarah's father and I sitting on the veranda enjoying the evening breeze as we drank spiced tea.

"You like my daughter," he said suddenly, not as a question but as a statement of fact.

"I ... ummmm ... she's a very intelligent woman and a great help to me," I replied.

"That is not what I said. I've seen how you've watched her all evening. There is something more there then is said."

I realized I had to make a choice to make. I could try to lie to him, but somehow I realized that he'd know it was a lie, or I could tell him the truth and hope he wasn't offended. In the end, truth seemed the best option.

"Yes, sir. I like your daughter very much."

He looked at me, the corners of his mouth turned up sternly. "Perhaps I did not say it right. You ... ahhhh ... LOVE my daughter."

Once again I found myself trapped in my answer. And once again the truth seemed the best way to answer.

"Yes, sir. I ..." I replied almost in a whisper. "Since I first met her I've come to care about her more and more and if it wasn't for the fact that she was ..." I faltered remembering what he'd said about not mentioning my father.

"Hush, hush, hush. I can see that for the first time in a long time my daughter is happy and that is all that matters. Any chances she had of marrying an Arab man are now gone so it is good that she found what she needs in another."

And so it went for the remainder of the evening as he and I talked about my life, my schooling and my hopes for the future while he told me about Sarah. Neither one of us said a thing about my father and it wasn't until Sarah returned and reminded me that we had to work in the morning that we excused ourselves and left.

The moon was full and the air was filled with the fragrance of the flowers that decorated the streets. And, not surprisingly, many of the streets were still covered with a fine coat of colored powders providing a festive mood as Sarah and I walked to her house.

"So, did you have a good time?" she asked.

"If was great. I've never seen anything like it."

"And my family?"

"Let's just say, now I know where you got your beautiful looks."

She blushed so deeply I could see it even in the moonlight. "And what did you and my father talk about?"

I quickly saw the potential trap that lay ahead if I wasn't careful with my reply so I avoided it. "Just stuff."

"Such as?"

"His business, your family, me, you. You know, the usual small talk."

Unfortunately, I hadn't been a quite as smooth as I had hoped.

"What about you and me?" she asked, startled.

"It wasn't you AND me. It was you and then me, two separate topics," I replied hoping to escape any further questions.

"Ahhhh," was all she said and so for the rest of the walk we were silent though I felt a closeness to her that I'd never experienced with any other woman in my life. When we finally got to her house, we both felt uncomfortable as we remembered what had happened earlier.

"I should catch a taxi and get back to my apartment," I muttered. "Like you said earlier, we have work in the morning."

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," she replied as she entered the house, gently closing the door behind her.

I stood there a few moments, watching and hoping, but when she didn't come back I caught a cab back to my apartment.

Sarah wasn't at work the next day, or the next, or even the next, and when I stopped at the house it was locked and all the windows were closed. I began to worry that something was wrong or that I had ruined any chance of us being friends because of what had happened.

Two weeks later, Sarah showed up at my apartment late in the evening and I found out I had been both right and wrong. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, a blue-gray sleeveless top, and tennis shoes. She also had a large, floppy hat and dark sunglasses. She could easily have passed for any one of the thousands of tourists that wandered throughout the city daily.

"Sarah?" I said, startled by her appearance.

"Can I come in?" she asked, tensely.

I could tell she was frightened just by the way she almost pushed me aside to enter. I looked up and down the hallway to see if I could see what she was afraid of but didn't see anything. I closed the door and for some reason locked it before following Sarah into the living room. She was sitting on the couch waiting for me. The moment I looked at her I could tell she'd been crying.

"What's wrong? You haven't been to work in almost two weeks. I was afraid something had happened to you."

"It did," she said as the tears began to roll down her cheeks. "It was a lie. The whole thing was a lie."

"What?"

"The wedding, the marriage ... the whole thing," she said, the words tumbling from her. "A little while after you dropped me off, two men showed up at the house. They didn't even knock. They had a key. They said they were looking for your father. When I told them I didn't know where he was they told me I should let him know they were looking for him if he called or came home." She stopped to take a deep breath. "The next day I started calling around looking for him. One of the men he works with gave me an address to check out. When I got there ..." she stopped again, this time because she was crying so hard.

"Here," I said, offering her my handkerchief. "Just take your time."

"Thank you," she whispered as she wiped her eyes. "Instead of finding your father, I found the padre at the address ... BUT HE ISN'T A PADRE," she yelled before taking another break.