Taste of the Nile

I heard her coo to the attention and realized that it might have been as long for her as it had been for me. Softly and with just a little wickedness I set into my task in her crotch, taking in deeply the scent of the Nile that had been following her around since I met her and rubbed my nose against her clit as I lapped up and down the soft opening.

I felt a hand rest against my short brown hair pulling me deeper into Angua's delta and I began to nibble at the treasures buried there. My tongue began to envelop and suck on her delicious clit as Angua thrust her cunt into me. She seemed to try to fuck my mouth with her clit and I responded by giving her the best head I could.

I let my tongue circle her clit as if it was doing laps at the Indy 500 and sucked it as deep into my mouth as I could. I let my tongue dip into her as far as it would go in alteration while rubbing her clit with my other hand. The heady scent of the delta flooded my nostrils and confirming my suspicions, her inner vagina did taste like sweet honey wine. I drank deeply of it letting it spread slowly along my tongue and immediately wanted to taste more, taste all of it.

Desperately I tongued her g-spot and rubbed her clit with the swiftest strokes I could and suddenly, I began to feel someone move my legs. I looked up and Angua was trying to maneuver me into a 69 position so I could share in the pleasure. I consented and moved to straddle her head, letting her slowly remove my panties which besides my socks, were my only manner of dress.

I had just begun to re-tongue her g-spot, when I felt the gloriously rough tongue on my labia. "I swear you're part cat," I moaned.

"Well there is a myth in our family that our family's original ancestor was Bast. Now, how about I make you purr?" The latter was said mischievously and I thrilled to the sudden feeling of her tongue maneuvering around my clit. The cunnilingus was passionate, more passionate than I had ever felt before. I had never dreamed that it could be so, but she told me later that women of Egypt and the Middle East are famed for their passion.

In the moment though, there was nothing but the pleasure. I tongued desperately on her clit and g-spot moving from one to the other like Hamlet in mid play, indecisive and desperate to have it all. Meanwhile, the waves of sinusoidal motion with Angua's delightfully cat-like tongue was driving me rushing, barreling toward a flood.

I concentrated on the beautifully Arabian pussy in front of me and put all my effort into pleasuring it hoping to beat the passion of my partner. Suddenly, in great surprise to me, she came with a sudden loud moan. A flood of Nile River rushed toward me and I drank it in devouring and relishing it with a zeal I had not thought possible. The taste of the sweet nectar in my mouth and the sudden addition of a finger rubbing against my g-spot pushed me over the edge as well and I began moaning softly into Angua's pussy.

We continued snacking and drinking each other pussies until we were both dry and tired from multiple orgasms. Finally, we detached and I leapt up to share the taste of the Nile I had found in her pussy. Grabbing her brown back I pulled her to me and pushed the taste of her juices into her mouth. Back my way came my juices and we swapped it back and forth, letting it mix together.

The new flavor that produced was amazing, better than any nectar I had previously tasted and I held the kiss for a good three minutes so I could get the most out of it. The passion of the taste sensation reawakened the energy of my lust and I slowly maneuvered her down again. I positioned my leg over hers and my other under her other so I could grinds against her. Once in position, I dropped down to suckle her beautifully brown breasts.

They tasted exquisite, unlike anything I had before and I thrust nearly subconsciously against her in excitement. The grinding of clit against pussy, trembled my sexual nerves and fed the carnal worship I was giving Angua. I desperately wanted to pleasure her like she had never been before, show her that Americans could match the pleasure she could get from any Egyptian. It was all silly patriotic bluster to cover up my enslavement to her beautiful body.

I looked up again into her emerald eyes and I felt myself tremble. Her eyes radiated enjoyment and pleasure and the slightest look increased my arousal, gave energy to my grindings, made it move into a slow sinusoidal wave of increasing pleasure. The growth caught both of us like a rising tide and we were both of us quite unable to do anything about it.

I rose up from her breasts and placed my own in their place, letting the nipples play with each other. I stared deep into her eyes as I did this, letting the pleasure increase to levels I had not dreamed of. Unable to take anymore, I kissed her viciously, religiously, sucking her tongue into my mouth.

Soon the peak of the wave crashed and our deltas flooded into each other as we moaned into each other's mouth. I continued until sated and then turned around to clean up. The new taste was like that in her mouth, but now punctuated with the overwhelming scent of the Nile. I felt my head grow light as I drank it, savored it, loved it.

We continued to drink the fluids for an hour until we had reached yet another orgasm. This time flooded by this last wave, I was carried completely out of consciousness and collapsed my tongue still buried in her pussy.

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Ch. 5

I woke up the next day alone on the floor. There was a note on the counter thanking me for the last night and telling me to enjoy the breakfast that she prepared for her. Also, she was leaving me a pair of the panties she'd had on the night before. There was no mention of a next time and in fact it had turned out to be a one-night affair.

I despaired of it for the rest of my trip and joined two more trips back to the Pyramids of Giza in hopes of finding her again, but it was not so. I tried to visit her at home to try and see if I could start a long-term relationship, but I found myself unable to find the house again in the winding crowded streets of Cairo. After another week, I went home, clutching softly the pair of panties she had given me in my lap and when no one else was looking sniffed them softly and cried.

I still have those panties in my drawer and often when the New York summer gets hot and muggy, I pull them out and sniff them and remember the taste of the Nile on my tongue and know that I'll never taste it again.