Moonkissed

He sits his legs crossed and his hands on his lap. His jaw is set, chiseled, hard. In the low firelight, an aged
man bends over him, applying hued ink to his bronzed skin. What words it spells.what it signifies, you
know, but you are not to speak of them. They state leadership; they speak of blessings as old as time. They
betray only light, only..strength.

The brush, like an extension of the artist's hand, draws lightly across the skin. You can see the bristles, soft
camel hair, spread as the tip takes a slide and turn.

"Sit," he implores you. And you do so, with your back to the fire and your face to his body. It is
peaceful.the silence broken only by the crackle of the fire that he sits in front of. Around you there is
only the sound of camel settling for the night, the aroma of home.fire, sand and men..men like Ardeth,
who sits, clad only in loose, black, cotton pants.

The material flows in the wind, like his hair.gently with little enticement. His shoulders bear the scars of
a man welcome only in his adulthood by combat. His chest is unmarked, but is dusted with black hair that
matches his mane. And those silken strands dance in the evening breeze that still hot from the day.it is a
blessing to see it freed from under the embrace of a turban. A blessing and yet..

You lower your eyes. As the youngest daughter of one of the elders, you have been chosen to serve the
chief this evening.you had been called from the main camp of your tribe to join the men in the scout
camp. They are encamped near the ancient site.the Sphinx is visible over the next rise of the dunes. Two
lone palm trees rise opposite that view to mark the location of the oasis behind you. And although you
know that the water is close, every breath that you take is heavy with arid dust and the remainder of the
heat from the day.even through the gauze that is draped over your face. And yes, you think, as you
reach out to run your hands over the still warm sand, to serve the Chief in this honored position is
wonderful, but awe drenched and fear inspiring.

There is rustling in front of you and you see one of the elders move away from Ardeth. The chief gains his
height and you marvel at the strength that is evident in the movement. So broad, that chest and his
shoulders travel like the moon on glassy sand.forever. You allow your eyes to caress his form, from his
blowing hair and skin blessed with holy writings, to his shoulders and chest to his hips to his legs and bare
feet. The black material that he wears ripples as another hot gust of wind sweeps across the small
camp.as it does so.it cups the contours of this thighs and buttocks.you lower your eyes again.

Silence descends and you close your eyes..and eternity passes, marked by the grains of sand that dance
across your skin.

"Why do you keep your eyes down?"

His voice is deeper, rougher than you remember from your youth.

"Come now, Eshe, you were not like this when we were young. Look at me," the voice asks again, and you
lift your eyes to see his. And you see..night swirling there.his eyes are so dark in the dim light from the
fire.

"You give me great honor." you begin to say the words that you mother made you memorize before you
left the home camp.

"I give you no such thing.Eshe.I sent for you." he glances over his shoulder, back to where the rest of
his men sit around the fire. He shakes his head for a moment and then reaches down with his hand. You
glance at the warm skin, and lift your hand to put it in his. When you do, he pulls hard and makes you rise
quickly. He maintains holding your hand in his warmth until your feet gain under you. "Come with me."

One of the elders raises his head and nods, apparently he is appeased with something.that either you or
Ardeth have done or will do. You squint your eyes and sigh. "Chief."

"Have you forgotten my name already?" Ardeth jokes with a serious tone. He drops your hand and walks
back over to the fire to grab his soft black shirt and cloak. You remain standing where you are and await
his return. He passes his horse and pats its neck fondly. Soon, however, he climbs the dune to greet you
again. You don't understand how the beauty that you see and the tales of merciless fighting go hand in
hand. "Eshe..come with me."

"But the camp."

"Ah, there is the girl that I knew when I was young." he reaches down and takes you hand to lead you
over the dune. Your sandal clad feet slip in the grains, but you are able to keep up with him. Your pants
dance around your legs, loose in the wind and your bare midriff feels every breath of air that passes. Soon,
the large, almost endless dune is climbed; you crest the apex to look down upon the oasis below. "You
always did argue every word I said, Eshe."

"That was until I knew who you were, Chief," you answer quietly.

"Ardeth.by Allah, Eshe." he mutters, as he slides down the other side of the dune. You whip on his arm
and you find yourself running ahead of him down the incline. The hot air blows across your face, cool in
its movement. You slide the last couple of yards and nearly fall on your knees. He steps in front of you,
and pulls on your hand and you are suddenly against his chest.almost.crushed. "Ardeth."

"Chief."

His arms fall to encircle your waist to hold you against his chest. The right arm curls around your body to
hold you still as his other hand cups your chin to force you to look at his face. "Eshe."

It is unsettling, his face this close to yours. The last time you saw him was five years ago..before he
became chief.before the ancient blessed text had been written on his skin.before he became more than
the boy that you talked with, that you watched learn to ride horses with your brothers. All of the blue
characters.the elegant hand.around such rich dark eyes and hidden under the black dark mass of hair.
"Ardeth," you say, giving into him.

"Thank Allah.." He breathes, but smiles. After a second, he reaches to remove your gauze from your
face, allowing your facial features to be bathed in the silver moonlight. You reach to stop its fall, but he is
quicker than you and the silk falls away, cool like forgotten rain. "Let me see your face, Eshe."

"It is against." you shake your head. To show your visage to him.

"By tomorrow, Eshe, it will be forbidden no more," he answers, and lowers his hand to your hip again.
You can feel his hot hand against your skin. "You know why you are here.did your mother not tell you?"

You nod, lowering your eyes from his. In your mind, there does not need to be additional conversation on
the topic. He needs to be pure by the morning's first light. His body cleaned, his mind emptied of lust..it
is part of what is needed by him to lead the army of light. So it is written, so shall it be. But it is still
unknown to you as why it is you..

"May I ask a question, Ardeth?"

He nods.

"Why was it I that was chosen?" you ask quietly. He is silent, very silent, although you can almost hear the
whip of both of your clothes in the breeze. With a flick of his wrist, he drops the shirt and cloak that he
holds to the ground and slips his hand back up to capture your chin.

"Because I know you, Eshe.because.you are you. I could make you laugh and say simply that it is as it
is.but does that answer your question? I consider your brothers friends; I consider your family mine own.
There is no other choice that I could make."

You breathe for a moment and then raise your hand to brush against his hand. "I understand, Ardeth."

**

You can feel the moisture float up to you from the small water hole. It bleeds in through your clothes,
flowing across your skin. It is heavenly, it is comfortable, and it is a blessing from heaven. On one side
of the water hole, there is a small rock formation that has collected moisture through the day.and which
slowly drips back down into the pool.

Ardeth walks up behind you and gently removes the remainder of your veil from your hair and lays it
across your shoulders. "I have made a small camp by the trees, Eshe.and have brought."

You turn. "You have brought the items for your bath.I have to wash you as is written."

He nods and you glance around his bulk to the small satchel of bath items laying on the sand behind him.
You can see the pale lard soap and a small cloth hidden in the folds of the satchel. "I'll gather them."

You push past him to get what you need, ignoring his look. By the time you have reached the satchel, you
hear the unmistakable sound of clothes being removed. You still at your task, allowing the cloth to drape
across your hands. You breathe, knowing that you too will have to remove your clothes, unwind them from
your body to join him in the pool of water. And once the washing is done, you are quite sure that you will
not be redressing before the sun graces the sand again.

The air is split with the sound of water being separated; spread by a body.you can hear his slow steps
until it stops. And silence reigns once more. There will be little speaking this night, you think. What is
there to say?

"Join me, Eshe," he says, his voice low and gritty from a day in sand.

You straighten and lower your hands to lay the satchel to the side. You pull at the veil that now lies across
your shoulders and add it to the material that is there for washing.if you must use material; you will use
your own. Then you gently pull one end of fabric from the tuck at your waist and unwind it up and over
your shoulders and from around your waist. Slowly, you can feel the tight embrace of the material
lessening, falling away from you. Soon, your top is bare.and the night air, cool in place of the hot day,
dances across your skin.

You know he watches..your skin heats from where you are sure his gaze is dancing. Without another
word, you begin to lower your pants from your waist.and suddenly your sandals and pants are off of your
body.and the embrace of night holds you.

"Eshe." he says, so quietly that you feel it rather than hear it. Lifting your eyes, you glance at the pool.
He kneels, the water only to his lower chest. You know it is deeper behind him, but he rests where he is.
The water is black, the night is black.split only by the loving gaze of the moon and millions of stars over
head. It is only he, his tawny, olive skin light in the dark surroundings. You begin to walk toward him and
the gritty sand is replaced with cool, slippery water. It flows over your feet and laps at your ankles as you
walk to him, carrying the satchel in your hands.

As you near him, you see.what you can only describe as divine fire in his eyes.flames from
within.lighting the dark, deep depths. Water beads on parts of his chest and on his arms, rivets from his
hair..the ends of which are wet. It only serves to outline his muscles.the power of which seems stronger
than a horse's pull.

Soon, you are close to him. And you sink on your knees to face him.the sand and rocks digging into your
skin. He intercepts your hand from lowering the material into the water and holds it for a moment before
letting it go and he cups your cheek.

"Let it begin," you sigh.

**

Your mother, in your youth, told you the story of how the Gods created man. How Khepri wept and
created man from his blessed tears. The holy water mixing with the arid sand to form the perfect form of
man and woman.risen to stand.fluid and yet solid. It is hard to believe without reservation, but your
faith is strong. But never as strong as it is at this moment.

You squeeze the water over his shoulder, letting the rivets run down his shoulders.across the planes and
down his back. The moon catches the simple lines of water. You kneel behind him.you feel the splash of
the water on your body as it falls from his. By the words of the ancient one, he is beautiful.perfect. His
ink hair, darker than any kohl ever made falls soft against his skin.moved by the breath of breeze that
blows around the both of you. His wet skin glistens, pronouncing his muscles.

The water looks like it mixes with the sand to create him. His skin is wonderfully warm, like grains
blowing off the dunes that surround you.and the fluid lines of his body. Strong rounded shoulders that
connect his powerful arms to his torso. And those broad shoulders angle to his chest which slopes, like the
banks of the Nile, to his waist and hips. Like predestined path of the river, the lines of his body, of his
torso and waist and..he flows.

Suddenly, he reaches and catches your hand as you squeeze another clothful of water over his skin. With a
sigh, he lifts your hand away from his body and leans forward. And rises..

May Khepri be blessed.

Oh the things your mother never told you.

Perfection does exist.

Those perfectly molded hips and waist flare into his buttocks.bulging and strong. Years of horse riding,
years of harsh physical workouts, have created those bunches of muscles. Water courses from his body, as
if giving his form final touches and splashes to the pool. His thighs, his calves.beyond description, tight
and long..

He turns.

All you can hear, as you lower your eyes and face to the pool, is the splash of water and the gentle rustle of
moving sand. And the night.the night is filled with sweet aroma of soap and jasmine. Peaceful and
powerful at the same time.

"Eshe."

You are nervous. This man is..but a man.but a perfectly formed one. And one whose form you will get
to know well.soon. You lower the cloth to the water and sigh.

"Eshe.look at me," he says, softly, gently.like a dream.like an afterthought. "You have the right, by
my choice, to claim my body. Look at me."

You nod and slowly lift your eyes from the reflective black pool in which you sit. His calves and thighs are
more pronounced, the lines seeming deeper, stronger. They widen from his power until they reach his torso
and you see gently cupped and offered between the muscles, his cock.lying gently against the mold of his
thighs.is subtle in its conveyance of power. Its length begins to increase as you stare at it, before you are
able to drag your gaze away and lift it to caress his chest and shoulders.his strong neck and hidden chin
and his dream invoking eyes. "Ardeth."

"You do know."

"I do. And I come to you as pure."

He smiles, slightly, barely, almost sadly. His hand extends to grasp yours and help you to your feet. You
stand slowly. "I know you are pure," he breathes as you stand.letting the water flow down and across you
your skin. You can feel the cool trails it leaves behind. Like cool fingers massaging away the weight of
the day, but it is directly contradicted by the sudden heat in your belly and extended tendrils down your
thighs. "As you have always been," he continues, lowly.

You lower your hand from his and approach him, so closely that you feel the humidity.the liberated water
from body heat.rise around him. It seems as though you are wrapped in his very presence.tall and broad
and dark.and..

"I did not answer your question completely honestly before, Eshe," he glances down at your body. You can
feel the heat from his gaze spread from your stomach and thighs to your chest.your nipples tighten and
rise. "I did send for you because you are who you are.that much was true. You don't treat me.as
something greater than I am.you know me to be.just a man.that was what I didn't say."

"You taught my brother to ride his horse as a warrior.and you taught my eldest brother to fight with his
sword.more of a brother than this blessed leader.." You mutter.

"I am not your brother, Eshe.I have never been," he lowers his hand and brushes against your right
breast.and you feel your breath rush out of you. You want to close your eyes, but his gaze holds yours,
almost gently, easily. He cups it, tilts it up.to offer it to the moon.you feel his thumb brush against the
nipple. Your toes curl into the wet sand under foot, the water still laps at your ankles. No man has ever
touched you like this.and although you feel unsteady.unsure.you want..to feel. "And I am just a
man."

You gasp as his thumb makes a second sweep. "Ardeth.what." Your eyes slide shut, against the moon,
against the heat of gaze.and his eyes had changed.from safe brown.to dangerous amber.

"I might be required to cleanse myself of lust tonight, Eshe.but that does not mean that I don't have to
enjoy it. And you will enjoy it as well.that I swear." he answers, and in the dark of your shut lids, his
voice is deeper, stronger.vibrating.

You hear the crunch of sand underfoot and then you are suddenly against his naked, wet chest. Your
breasts are crushed, pressed, hard into his muscle. You feel one arm around your waist. And it is
heat.upon heat.like lying in the sun on the sand. His other hand slides under your hair and pulls you
against him fully. Your head is tilted back so that his.warmth can cover your lips.his lips close over
yours.rubbing you against his close cropped mustache and beard. He rubs them back and forth, while
rubbing your hair with his thumb.

Your hands curl into his chest, gently scraping against the warm skin there. If you pressed them hard, you
know that you would feel his heart beating. He lifts your hair and eases his mouth down the side of your
cheek to your neck. You yipe as you feel his teeth and lips tugging at the sensitive skin under your chin.
"Ardeth."

"Hmmm" he hums as his hand drops from your neck to your hips, it is then that you realize that you are
naked and you are pressed against his equally naked body. You can feel his heat.his body rising against
yours. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you as his teeth worry against your skin, pulling at the
tendon there. Your had lulls back. You feel wanton, forbidden.heated and molten in one. His thighs
move against yours.the hair tickling your legs. "Eshe."

"Ardeth.I have to .."

"No more rituals tonight," he says. "There is no need for ritual. Light will conquer here as it does on the
battle field."

You sigh and slide your hands up over his shoulders to bury in his hair. He is so tall, so broad that you feel
as though you embrace the world itself. His warmth, his cock, presses against your abdomen, making you
burn, making you ache. You can feel the muscles there tensing and releasing.and you are lifted fully
off the ground and his arms twist around you, and you find yourself lying across his iron arms, your hands
resting on his shoulders.

"It has been a long six months, Eshe." he comments, bending his neck to press his lips against your
forehead and your lips. "I need you."

"Then take me, Ardeth."

**

Heat.so hot.scorching, like a mid-summer noon sun in the sky. It burns your back, burns your feet.but
it is not real heat.rather it is the friction of the sand grains at your back that burn you. You are dry
somehow, from his torrent embrace more than likely. Your breasts are arched as he removes his arm from
you, as your back fully rests against the roughness of his cloak.of his shirt, and they pull, rise and tighten
in the cool desert-night breeze. There is the over-sensitization of your skin and the tease of night against
you that arouses you to the point of moans.

And the man that rises to his feet in front of you, that stands and braces his legs apart, that puts his hands on
his hips.he only adds to the inferno of feeling wrapping you in its embrace. Your toes curl as you watch
his thighs tense. Your thighs rub against each other as you watch his abdomen tighten. Your hands
scramble for a hold as you see his chest muscles pop out. And you groan with delight as you watch his
manhood spring to full readiness from his ardent watching of you.

You might be pure, but you do know of men and their bodies.and what their bodies are used for.

"Please?" you sigh, holding first one and then another arm up to him. He continues to gaze at you, as his
hair blows in front of his face. He makes no move to restrain the errant strands. His eyes never leave your
body.you can see them.gazing at your eyes, your hair, your breasts, your thighs.and everywhere in
between.

"By Ra, Eshe."

"You were the one that talked of long times and long absences. Are you waiting for a proper invitation,
Ardeth? I don't know what to say." you ask and tell, lowering your hands to lay them along side of you.

He smiles, almost secretly and lowers his body, hiding it from your view. Gone are the strong thighs and
molded calves, gone is the chiseled chest and proud shoulders.gone is the engorged, reddened cock.and
then suddenly he reappears. His face, just inches from yours, held and hovered over your face returns first
and then his body descends to cover you like a welcomed blanket in the chill. "You tease me, Eshe.with
an innocence that you have and knowledge that I know you do not have."

You can barely concentrate on his words; you feel only his arms on either side of you, his legs hard,
almost.bruising.against your thighs and calves.. feel only his chest as he leans closer to you; against
your inflamed breasts.feel only his hot, burning cock against your abdomen.

"What do you know of carnal acts, Eshe? What have you learned since I left camp, hmmm?"

You can't breathe as you feel his lips brush against you cheek and your neck. His words are like the paint
of an artist, flowing, creating wonderful feelings in you that the touch accentuates. You rub your thighs
against his, aching for further contact.

"Nothing. I have learned nothing.except that what you are making me feel.this heat."

"Hmmm.I will cure it, but first I will increase the heat." he says and you shiver from the tone.and the
words.

You grip at his shoulders, run your nails down his back. Heat.burn.indeed. His hands are everywhere,
skimming your hips, your arms, your upper thighs.and you feel him lift a little, stroking close to the apex
of your thighs. The touch makes you squirm.moan, groan..gasp his name.and Allah's. You can feel
the tips of his fingers rubbing against the wetness that ekes out of you.you didn't know it was there, until
he spreads it on your skin. He lifts his body and moves down, putting his mouth on your raised buds,
tasting your skin like it is sweet nectar.

It is rough.the texture and it teases you to groan and grasp at his hair. The arching of your back brings
more of your skin into his mouth for him to taste and he readily suckles at the bud.first one and then
another. He hums around the flesh.making it vibrate while he rolls his tongue around the skin. His right
hand, which still grasps your hip.trembles as you moan again.

With a gasp, he raises his head. "It has been too long, Eshe.I swear it will be better the next time."

You match his gasp with a grunt of your own and scrape your nails down his back.there has to be a way
for him to feel the way you do. There has to be a way..you strive to.anything. The heat from his cock
bleeds through your entire abdomen.it feels as though you are pinned by sunbeams.

His knees widen your thighs; they brace between them, widening them to allow his body to sink between
them. You feel his sleek hips fall between your legs. You raise your knees to the sky, pointing them at the
stars.

You should feel fear.you should doubt what is coming next. But to do so would be to deny that you have
wanted this man.wanted him for as long as you can remember. You have watched him for years,
standing, riding, fighting alongside your family.always tall, always strong.always in control.and he
always, always made you ache. When he lifts his head from your breast and drags his lips and tongue up
your skin to touch, to suckle at your neck and cheek and finally your lips.you see yourself in his eyes.

He stops and lifts his head completely. You feel his hand, his fingers touch and cup your chin.and you
feel your wetness on the end of them. The slight distance between his chest and yours allows the night
breeze to anoint your wet flesh and make it feel like icicles dance across your skin. You smell the aroma of
male and sandalwood.of the cloak beneath you and starry night. Those strong fingers hold you to meet
his gaze.

And you see.

Your own ache.your own want.the years of feeling.mirrored in his eyes.

"Ardeth?" you gasp, quiet and knowing.just.knowing.those chocolate deep eyes could not lie to you.

"You know." he sighs.

You nod and he kisses your chin. You feel him lift.the muscular thighs.the rounded buttocks.and feel
his hand grasp himself.ready himself at your entrance. It is heat.it is incredible strength.

"Hold on to my shoulders, Eshe.and forgive me," he whispers and then lifts and presses his weight down.
You feel his length, his girth.the blunt end of his cock.press into your flesh.every inch.every long
inch. He wastes no energy and pushes with all of his strength into you.as deeply as he can go.

It is the length of a breath.and as long as your life.a tearing pain rips through you and he sinks
completely between your legs. But it is his shaking hand, his face near yours, his caring, strong gaze as he
brushes your hair out of your eyes to meet your gaze, which keeps you from crying out. You gasp for
air.wondrous in the closeness.

You feel pinned to the ground, speared.completed and whole. He keeps your gaze and pulls back, slowly,
letting you breathe through the pain. He lets you arch into him, and opens his mouth to let his breath
mingle with yours. It is all humid.all heat.he moans as he quirks his hips back and then slowly presses
back into you.

"I have thought of you." he whispers as his body comes to a rest on yours. The pain is still thick enough
that his voice seems to come to you from a far distance. "At night.when I'm..alone.and all I feel is
your body."

You grunt and lift your legs.the pain lessens, like a gift from heaven.wrapping them around his upper
thighs. He pulls back and eases back in . "Eshe."

With a moan, you reach up to grab his hair, to pull. He arches his neck from your ministrations, making his
head rear above you. The pain lessens with each pulse, each push, each withdraw.

"Please Ardeth."

"The pain." he gasps, breathing hard.you see the strain on his face.the etches of power restrained.

"Is gone.please." you pull on his hair, arching your back, rubbing your legs against his buttocks, his
thighs.

He groans and suddenly.

You know what a sandstorm feels like. You know the feeling of being in the middle of a dervish. His
hands fall to hold your hips, to restrain you to feel the onslaught of his power.of the continuous thrusts.

He is everywhere and everything. The thrusts are powerful.you feel his length as he thrusts in and the
width as he withdraws. Your buttocks dig into the sand.you feel the granules through the roughness of
his cloak.of his shirt under you. Arching.pulling.everything and everywhere.a pressure pulling,
lifting.throwing you into the stars.

"By Allah," you exclaim, closing your eyes and throwing your head back. The friction of sand.the
granules next to your ear are loud.frightening so. And you don't need to see the stars overhead.lights
explode behind your eyes. Constant.everywhere.there are waves of feeling in your arms and
legs.spreading from your center.down your arms.toes..fingers..all you feel are his silky hair, his
muscles and his hard.constant.cock.

He pulls his hair from your grasp and lowers his face to your neck. Lights shoot, explode.spread from behind
your eyes. Ache.wonderful feelings press from your center and breasts to your fingers. He grunts and his
thrusts slow, temper and they become languid and then he stops, and arches his head back again..baring
his teeth.their creamy whiteness contrasted by his midnight beard. His moan matches your shout and
soon both of you lay still in a collection of arms and legs and exhausted minds.

After several minutes, marked by the blow of sand around you, you kiss his shoulder. "Was.duty."

"It was." he whispers in return, lifting his had to kiss your neck gently. He pulls your hair back from your
face, untangling it from his strands. "And now the rest of the night is ours."