Date: 1 Jan 2002 16:04:00 -0800
From: Jan <janmay699@icqmail.com>
Subject: Tangier (Beginnings f/F, f/f, f/FF)
Warning:
This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of
explicit sexual acts between a young girl and other girls and
women. If this type of content offends you or you are under the
age of 18 do not read it.
Author's Note:
This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for
personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if you wish to
repost them at your own site, please contact the author for permission.
Copyright 2002 Jan. All Rights Reserved.
Please mail to: janmay699@icqmail.com if you have
suggestions for future chapters.
Tangier
By
Jan
I come from a family that was Eastern Orthodox
Christians from Lebanon. They moved to Tangier, Morocco,
North Africa during World War I to get out of the way of the
Tricks and Arabs. The family untimely moved from Morocco
to Montreal, Canada after World War II. This story is about a
romance in Tangier but also explains how a family has changed
over three or four generations.
Tangier, Morocco is across the Meditation Channel from
Gibraltar. Over the centuries this land has been occupied by the
Roman Empire, The Byzantine Empire (Eastern Orthodox
Church), The Islamic Empire, Spain, Porgies, German, English
and from 1904 until after World War II France occupied the
country with a short interruption during the War when Germany
occupies the country.
The population is 40% Arabic and is Islamic. There are
three tribes identified as Berbers. In Arabic the word Berber
means non-Arabic. They represent 35% of the population. The
rest of the population is made up of peoples that have migrated
or are leftovers of the peoples that occupied the country before.
The largest training facility of the French Foreign Legion
was in Morocco. This army was unique because it was a
mercenary army that allows anyone to join and expunge all
trace of past history with only the pledge of allegiance to the
Legion. That's right the Legion comes before France. When
France gave Morocco its independence in the 1956 the Legion
rebelled. And the French had to send in the regular army to put
down the Legion. After that the Legion was not allowed to
march in the annual parade in Paris with their typical straddle
legged march to their songs of allegiance to the legion. That is
off the subject anyway.
My family became traders in rugs from the area. They
are colorful woolen rugs that have developed over time to
reflect the influence of Islamic design. Under the French
influence we learned French in schools and commerce as will
we converted to Roman Catholics. That had a lot to do with the
family picking Montreal, Canada to migrate too. We could
continue to speak French. We are learning English with each
new generation. It might be more accurate to say American
because what we are learning has little to do with the language
spoken at Gibraltar or England. All this interesting historical
fact but has little to do with this story.
This story has to do with my introduction the way
women in Tangier culture explore their sexuality and I grew to
love.
Being from Lebanon I am like most Arabian women. We
are not very tall. Our skin is kept light by staying out of the sun
but we are darker than northern Europeans. Our eyes don't need
eye shadow. Our areolas are a dark coffee brown. The skin of
our lips, labia and anus are dark coffee brown too. When I
open my vagina the inside is as pinkish red as any Canadian
girl's I have ever kissed.
I was a young girl that went to French language school.
It was run by a French order of Nun's. I lived at home with my
family. I walked to school every day.
In Morocco you wake up to the sound of muezzin
(Islamic priest calling the faithful to prayer. They do it six
times a day. That is was my alarm clock to get me up for
school. When I was not in class I spent much of my time
reading in the library at the school. I read both French and
Arabic romances as fast as I could.
One day I found a book that had been misfiled in the
French Romance section. It was a romance all right but it was a
story about a French girl falling in love with an older woman in
her Parris apartment building. The graphic descriptions of the
way the woman seduced the girl made me so excited that I sat
at the desk reading it and rubbed my vagina with my hand
under the desk. When I finished reading the story I looked at
the library filling number on the spine and went looking for that
section.
I was overjoyed when I found rows of books on the same
subject. I gathered up stories with titles that sounded exciting
to me. I sat there for hours reading story after story. I even had
a mild climax reading about the sex between the girls and
women in the stories.
But school libraries don't stay open for ever. I had to go
home eventually. I went to bed that night and sought out my
vagina and inserted my finger in the hole until it hurt. Then I
stroke myself until I climaxed. I was so stimulated that one was
not enough so I did it most of the night. I don't know who
many times I climaxed or what time it was when I fell asleep.
I knew enough about female anatomy to know that what
my finger was pressing against was my hymen and that if that
broke that I would be considered not a virgin anymore and
getting married would be hard unless I could devise my
husband into thinking that he broke it on our wedding night.
Among Moroccan families it is common for families to pay
plastic surgeons to restore the hymen of girls to make them
more marketable for marriage.
For many days I was in the library every minute I could
be, reading every story I could about lesbian sex. In the Arabic
books I found water color prints of harems. I found them
fascinating. They depicted the head wife larger than the rest of
the women. They were gathered around a pool of water bathing
in that Arab culture these bathes are known as a hammam.
They were nude and only had jewelry on their bodies. Many of
them were reclining on pillows and holding each other and
cupping each other's breasts. I found it very stimulating. In
one of the water colors one of the lesser wives was lying
between the legs of the head wife and her head was hidden
between the thick legs of the head wife. I was so engrossed in
reading the stories and looking at the prints that I didn't notice
that the nun in charge of the library was standing behind me.
I have no idea how long she was there. When she cleared
her throat I was startled back to the reality of where I was. I
was both embarrassed by being discovered reading lesbian
stories but because my hand was in my lap. The only saving
grace was that the school uniform of black pleated skirt hid the
fact the front of my skirt was wet. It was too late to close the
book. I sat there expecting to be reprimanded for reading
salacious material.
The nun told me that she had been watching me picking
books from the lesbian section for days. She wanted to know if
I found them exciting to read. I told her the truth without even
thinking about lying.
She smiled and asked me if I ever thought about what the
Arab women and Berber women looked like under their
Haik's? I told her that I wondered if they did have bodies like
other women. She took my hand and led me to the office in the
back of the library.
She brought out books with pictures of Arabic women
removing the material they called Haiks. To my delight they
had very nice bodies. The ones that had on Indigo dyed cloth
were tinted blue from the dye. The variety of figures was as
varied as any European. I was getting stimulate from looking at
the pictures in the books. I reached for the front of my skirt
with the heel of my hand and rubbed myself without thinking
about what I was doing.
Then the nun opened an envelope and handed me a stack
of pictures that were even more exciting. They were pictures of
some of the nuns in my school. They were at first just pictures
of them fully dressed hugging each other. But soon they were
pictures of them undressing. I had never seen them with their
heads uncovered. They had hair much like mine. Some of
them from northern France had blonde hair. That was very
exciting to me.
The pictures were of them bathing and doing what every
woman does every day. As I went through the stack the
pictures became even more explicate. There were pictures of
the sisters feeling each other's bodies. The ones that thrilled
me the most were pictures of the mother superior sitting in an
upholstered chair with her legs draped over the wooden arms of
the chair and young nuns kneeing before her and kissing her on
her vagina.
While I was looking at these pictures the nun slipped her
hand inside my cotton blouse and cupped my little breast. My
nipples were so hard they were almost painful. I was moaning
my pleasure from her touch. She wanted to know if I wanted to
experiment more. I shook my head to let her know that I
wanted more.
Having insured that I was willing, she turned my chair
around and lifted her habit. She draped it over my head. I was
looking at my first adult vagina. She had no panties on. She
had a strong smell between her legs. I was drawn to it like a
moth to a flame. After all the books I had read and pictures I
had seen I needed no instruction about what to do with my
mouth and tongue.
My head was being stroked through the habit as I brought
her to a climax. I used my tongue to seek out her clitoris and
when I found it I sucked it into my mouth and used my tongue
to rub it as fast as I could. Then at her instruction I put my
tongue into the canal and felt the warm slimy juices. I tasted
my first pussy and was thrilled at the taste and my ability to
make this adult woman climax. When she started moaning her
approval for my efforts I felt my own panties getting wetter.
When she recovered she sat me on top of the desk after
she removed my panties. She pulled my blouse open to expose
my hard little nipples and she kissed them and played with
them. I was squirming around on the desk. When I thought I
could not stand it any more she knelt before me and put her face
in my lap. I spread my legs as wide as I could and her tongue
sought out my little nub of joy. I came so quickly that she
never even touched my hole with her tongue.
I was to meet many of the nun's in the pictures and learn
what it was like to have several women make love to me. All
this only increased my fascination with Arab and Berber
women.
There were both kinds in the school and I made friends
with them. My best friend was the daughter of one of the
nomadic tribes that are called the blue Men of Morocco. The
real name pf this tribe is Tauareg
Normally they are nomadic so the children don't get to
go to schools. This girl's father had opted to change his life
style and become a merchant and wanted his children to
become educated.
We became friends right away because we both did not
fit in with most of the Arab's in the school or the French girls
either. I taught her about the lesbian sex before she found out
that some of the nuns were open to a little sex with the girls in
the school.
She was a tall girl for her age and like most of them she
still wore the blue robes that dyed her skin blue. We spent so
much time sucking each other that I even got tinted blue a little
also.
Her father had four wives. He still lived in the dark
woolen tents on the outskirts of town. The children slept in a
separate tent from the one he slept in. That way the wives that
were not favored could take care of the children.
I was allowed to sleep over with her many times. When
the other girls were asleep we would make love to each other.
One night we heard noise coming from the women's part of the
tent one night and decided to investigate.
We crawled to the side of the tent and lifted it up enough
to see inside. What we saw made us both horny. There were
three wives in the nude sprawled out on the soft grown covered
by rugs and pillows. They were playing with each other's
bodies and sucking each other. My friend's mother was right in
there licking one of the other ones. She was calling the women
she was sucking habebety (darling) bahebbek (I love you) beddi
(I want to kiss you).
We started feeling each other's pussies as we watched.
We must have made too much noise because we were detected.
Rather that getting mad at us, we were brought into the tent and
encouraged to join in. I was thrilled to suck the hairy pussy of
the mother of my friend at the same time one of the other wives
was sucking my young pussy. They welcomed us into world of
hakkakates (lesbians).
Now if you were Moroccoan you would call a pussy a
taboon. It is funny that in Lebanon taboon is bread. I guess my
countrymen know what they want to eat. If you were an
Islamis Arab pussy is a koss.
I made it a point to make friends with girls from every
ethnic group in the country. I dated French girls and women,
and members of all three of the Berber tribes. The Arab's were
hard to get to know because they look at all Catholic's as
infidels but when it comes to sex even they will accept a young
girl for the chance to taste a sweet young pussy.
One time I was shopping in the Arabic shopping district
by myself. That is not a good idea because there are still slave
traders that sell girls into slavery. I was wondering through the
streets and sampling the foods being cooked in public.
Bartering with Arabs over the price of goods and food is
a challenge. How long do you barter to get an honest price?
On this day I was bartering over the price of sweet cakes
to eat with an old Arab woman cooking them on a grill on the
street. When we finally agreed on a price I sat there eating
them with pleasure. The woman seemed to take delight in my
enthusiasm over the taste. She offered to make me some
special cakes in her home.
I followed her up some stairs to a second floor adobe
dwelling. She took me to her kitchen and started cooking for
me. She was talking to me in Arabic as she cooked.
She wanted to know more about me. I was the first
Lebanon's girl she had ever met. She wanted to know if I was
Arabic or not. I tried to explain where my family was from and
how our family changed religion from Eastern Orthodox to
Roman Catholic, as best I could.
She wanted to know if I looked like an Arab under my
clothes or like the pale Europeans. I got a little excited at the
thought of letting her see my body. I told her that I looked very
much like her physically. Only to be asked to prove it. A
change I could not refuse.
I stood up and removed my clothes in front of her. She
approached me and felt my breasts. She sat down and drew me
between her legs. She stroked my pussy with her fingers and
opened the labia open and looked at my cunt very closely.
I could not resist thrusting my hips forward and her
mouth clamed my wet pussy. She lifted me up and carried me
to her bedroom and lay me on it. She stood next to it and
removed her Haik. I was fascinated by her body. It was old
sagging and hard from many years of hard work. There was not
much hair between her legs. Her nipples were wrinkled but
when she approached me I sucked them greedily. When she
mounted the bed and lowered her cunt to my mouth I tasted the
same honey she used on her sweet cakes. She must have
rubbed her pussy with the honey before she led me to her bed. I
was in heaven right away. I became a regular customer of hers
from then until we move to Canada. She was such a sweet lady
and had many friends that when I didn't have anyone else to
suck I could stop by her stall and be in bed with a woman in
just a few minutes.
Now that our family is in Canada we still make trips back
to Morocco to buy rugs for export to Canada. The last time I
went back on a buying trip I discovered that there has been a
big increase in the prostitution there. The market for women
and girls for the entertainment of Europeans tourists has grown
to include the lesbians too. You see many women from
countries like France, Germany, Holland and England bartering
for the sexual favors of very young girls.
When I return I always visit a friend named Touriah. She
is a teacher that I went to high school with when we were
young. She lives in Casablanca now. She was telling me that
she was approached on the street by a French woman that
wanted to take her to her hotel and have sex with her.
She told me that while they were walking to the hotel she
found out that she was from Alsatz area of France. This was
the first time she had ever even thought about prostituting her
body and found it thrilling that this woman was willing to pay
her for sex with her.
The woman was an attractive woman with bleached
blonde hair that was long fine wavy hair over her shoulders.
The body was thick and her breasts were massive. When they
got into the hotel room and the woman undressed before her the
woman removed her blouse Touriah was looking at two large
breasts that were pail pink and covered with blue blood vessels
and large mauve areolas toped with nipples as fat as plump
grapes. When the women removes her skirt and panties
Touriah was looking at a thick garden of brown hair as fine as
the hair on her head but so much of it that her crack was hidden
from sight.
Touriah stood between her legs and let her undress her.
Touriah dressed in a Haik like many of the local women. When
the woman pulled the long bolt of material off her left shoulder
and unwrapped Touriah she was delighted to find that my
friend was nude under the native dress. All she had to do was
remover her sandals. My friend likes to dress native so she has
a noise ring with a chain attached to her left earlobe.
The French woman had no idea that she was getting in
bed with a woman that had had a teaching degree in French
literature. She just thought she had picked up a Moroccan
prostitute that spoke very good French.
Touriah told me the sex was incredible. The woman not
only wanted her to make love to her, she wanted to lick and
suck ever inch of Touriah too.
I was so excited that I undressed Touriah and was
sucking her pussy as she told me her story of her first venture
into prostitution. I had my face in her crotch sucking her with
abandon as she told me that the French woman had her get on
her hands and knees as a final act and licked her asshole until
she was able to get her tongue into the hole. She told me that
the woman paid her more money than she earned in a week as a
high school teacher.
My adult sex life was forever guided by my education.
When my family moved to Canada I thought my life would be
destroyed for lack of a sexual outlet for my lesbian tastes. To
my delight I found out that my new French Canadian
countrywomen had a taste for the exotic flesh of dark flesh. I
have never been without a variety of women to have sex with.
I hope you enjoyed the story and want more. Please send your
mail to: janmay699@icqmail.com.