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:
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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.