Part two of a three part story that takes place in the 1991 Middle Eastern Gulf War time frame. Real events, real people, names and identities changed to protect the shameless. After all, war is hell...

SADDAM’S TOILET (PART II)


It was another lovely summer day in the Kingdom. I had wakened with a head that felt as if there was nothing between my ears except inflamed sinuses. Outside, the heat was already rising in the dry, flat confines of the compound. Through the bedroom's window I could see, squatting in the shade of a ragged piece of canvas near the entrance, the venerable old Baba who served as a nominal gate-guard for the McDonnell-Douglas compound; he was thoughtfully scratching his venerable balls with his left hand as his right one worked the tooth cleaning twig through his mouth. With his old rheumy eyes glazed and staring off into the heat-haze of the horizon, it was impossible to imagine what ancient, recollective thoughts were making their daily rounds in his brain...not that I really cared, of course.

As the coffee's tantalizing smell sank tendrils into my brain, wooing it with the promise of a jump-start, I reflected that this was probably the right time to take a break, after all. Yesterday, after the flight, the flight surgeon had had me taken off flying status for a week to allow some time for a head cold to shake itself free. Somehow, the bug also had my gut in its grip, for I had been navigating to and from the W/C throughout most of the night. It isn't easy having a serious case of the loose runs standing up over an archaic Arab shitter. Not easy and definitely an act requisite of no small amount of skill, and pretty disgusting as well. Fortunately, although I wasn't a bomber pilot, my targeting skills were up to the task...even late at night.

Out in the kitchen, Suki, finally moved to abject curiosity over why the usual coffee aroma snare had failed to rope me out of bed and draw me into the dining room, poked her silky black mane around the corner and gazed at me with what I call her 'newborn fawn in the forest look.' The dark pools under her eyebrows suckered me out of my ruminations on old Arab men, nasty head colds and archaic plumbing fixtures, framed as they were by the artfully disarrayed  strands of blackest Shanghai silk. At such moments one could almost intuitively discern the Chinese essence of her mother's ancestry in her appearance. Suddenly, my whole attention was riveted on her substantial comeliness.

"Grab my coffee and come in here Sooks; we need to talk over the leave." Arching her eyebrows with the slightest hint of an amused smile, she padded off quietly to get the coffee and reappeared with the cup of steaming black fluid that had teased my nose so compellingly upon awakening.

Suki was wearing nothing but a filmy slipover of clingy black, her favorite color; it acted upon my senses as a powerful stimulus that would have even wakened the recently dead, if it hadn't have been for the slightly disconcerting effect of the bizarrely pink cotton rabbits she wore on both feet. Still, the sight of her, standing in the doorway like that, tended to make me forget my ear-to-ear sinuses, and everything else for that matter....everything except the perfectly beautiful outlines of her body protruding softly through the thin black fabric and outlined by the still weak rays of the morning sun.

Putting the coffee down on the bedside stand, Suki came over to me and stood just out of arms' reach, her hands akimbo on her hips, legs spread in that 'so what's next?' pose I love so much.

"I may feel like liquid shit, my dear, but you are the best medicine known to mankind." So saying, I grabbed out, timing the distance and the response needed, and snagged her wrist, pulling her off balance and towards me in a tumble. Her graceful 90 pounds collapsed neatly on top of me and immediately she sat astride my hips with her cool thighs pinioning my legs.

At such moments, I swear that any man would have to be a eunuch not to respond fully and automatically to her charms with a certain portion of one's anatomy, and I was certainly not of that disposition. Suki still hadn't said a word, but let her eyes do all of her communicating, another of her peculiar but exotic special talents. Lying there on my back, I was oblivious of all the previous thoughts I had been batting around in my head. Forgotten was awareness of Baba's old man thoughts of lost youth at the compound gate, and even my uncomfortable night in a holding pattern over the shit-hole. The clean, natural essence of her lovely body flooded my senses like a rush of floral incense. By comparison, I suddenly flashed on the overweight, smelly Indian woman one of the British pilots had married....ugh. There was absolutely no comparison to be made....none at all. It struck me as immensely ironic that the race which had produced the amorously essential 'how-to' of the erotic arts, the Kama Sutra, still hadn't managed to invent the ordinary shower!

Suki arched her back like a lazy cat, stretching her long, slender arms up and out as I pulled the shift over her head to uncover her splendid anatomy. Her eyes still regarded me with that veiled gaze of curious humor, so characteristic of her. Almost as if she were saying, 'All right, let's see what this Gaijin can do...vaunted flyboy Romeo that he fancies himself to be....you've done the preflight, now let's get airborne!'

Then, moving her thighs upwards with a luxurious delicacy, she moved forward over my hips so that the tip of my swollen eagerness was lightly touching the navel in her firm belly. The sensitive tissue at the end of my engorged penis could feel something like the feathery touch of a butterfly's wings quivering against it. I looked up at Suki's chest. Her smooth, medium-sized breasts, so perfectly rounded and gorgeous to behold once freed from any constraints, framed her face, as she slyly gazed down at me between their pouting, pink nipples.

And suddenly she was gone, briefly disappearing somewhere into another universe inside herself, a light sheen of sweat making her skin glow. There was a slight illumination to her face, as if, from inside, she was concentrating on mysteries I couldn't even begin to imagine and invoking old and long-forgotten powers to her bidding. It was all the work of an instant, and in less than a few seconds she shuddered, eyes rolled upwards and tongue poised wetly on the verge of her parted lips. Then, once more in control of herself completely and back from whatever voyage she had embarked upon within, she moved her firm, lithe thighs upwards once more and placed her cleft woman's part, hidden by the coal black fur between her legs, directly over me. Bowing forward so that the tips of those perfect breasts kissed my nose with their unique scent, she sat back down upon me, taking me fully into her recesses with a decisive, moist suction, the strength of which always surprised me.

And now the rythmic squeezing began, the superbly controlled muscles of her thighs pulsating, undulating around my erection, milking it like a cow's teat. It was, no matter how many times we had done it, always a new experience: the strength of her love making muscles impressive and awesome.

The powerful sucking sensations continued pleasingly, but I was already far too aroused to need much further inducement. Reaching out and gripping her smooth, slender upper arms, I pressed the sinews in them with a suggestion of my hunger, to communicate the deep need of her creation within me to her. Back arched, already riding the mountain wave of an initial orgasm, her eyes flickered open for an instant and she read in them what there was to read. "Hank," she murmured, her voice dropping a full tone…"Take me from the rear. Do it now. Make it hurt a little…."

It had amazed me when I first learned that my sensual cat-woman liked to be taken in that manner. I had forgotten the ancient traditions and complexities of the ageless Japanese erotic arts and had been stunned...yet secretly delighted...when she had first suggested a preference for anal sex. The ludicrousness of the taboo against this act in the west, considering the ironic role it had forever played in being considered an acceptable substitute for normal sex between unmarried men and women in this part of world, struck me as I contemplated what she had once told me when first revealing this secret. When I had asked her, somewhat shocked like the good Christian choir boy I had been brought up to be, if she didn't consider that to be degrading, she had responded, darkly: "Abuse and degrade me when I ask you to....but never unless…."

There is, after all, some latent perversity in even the most saintly among us...and usually much more in that sublimated reservoir than is ever suspected, until the dam is cracked and the flood of forbidden urges and sensations are released forever, like all the demons in Pandora's secret chest. It is usually then, after the demons have all flown, that we see our own faces reflected on the mirrored inner surface that hides within that fabled box...

Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, again. It was time for some requested 'tough love.' Gripping her shoulders firmly, so as to not fall out of her in the transition, we both performed an amazing gymnastic maneuver she had taught me which enabled us to stay enmeshed in each other until she was on her knees, bent forwards, back swayed, and ass up-thrust, with me on my own knees directly behind her. Then, her hands squeezing the pillow in front of her, she released her fearsome grip on my male part and I withdrew it from her, dripping with the female dew of our initial love-making.

Placing the tip of my spear against the small, tan wink of her perfectly clean sphincter, I smeared it with some of her own moisture and then...like a snake stealing out onto a limb of a tree to strike a bird....I eagerly slid into her with a smooth, deep thrust. Every muscle in her body bunched, quivering as if stung with an electric lash, knotting for a split second and then yielding as I entered her in this private, vulnerable part of her body. Her hands gripped the pillow under her like claws then, her teeth clenched upon the sheet; I felt an even greater suction extend its grip on me as she used the powerful muscles of her anus to imprison me deeply within that forbidden part of her. I could sense the strange passion growing within her, her gasps growing louder with each frenzied thrust into her ass, then more shudders, as I continued to thrust more forcefully, impaling her on my erection with the insane madness of a spearman cleaving an enemy through on his halberd.

Feeling the savage, sadistic pleasure grow within me, she began to join my thrusting with her own responsive spasms. The sound of thigh against soft buttock cheek rent the air with loud slapping whacks as we came closer to mutual oblivion, riding each successive wave of spasmodic lust higher and higher. Her own little indecipherable grunts and exclamations of orgasmic sensation growing with each brutal penetration of her cavity until finally she screamed out into the pillow, "Aiyyyyeeee!" The sound came from somewhere deep within her as I felt myself about to explode, as well. She had me locked into her with a greediness that made me deliriously lustful. My sense of her absolute power over me was stupifying....I felt drunk with bestial savage frenzy...and then I lost what little control I actually had and she felt all the hot, molten fluid of my frenzy flood into her gut as I rode her beautiful ass like a stallion would a mare. Slamming into her time and time again, I lost any sense of contact with reality. It was like nothing ever experienced before, and then it was over. She went limp and sagged forward, pulling my member out of her ass, dripping in the doing. Part of her always seemed to die in this process, such were the forces released each time we coupled perversely like this.

It took some time before either of us could move, or even breath deeply. Finally, looking slyly around at my blood-shot eyes, she murmured with a husky voice cut from raw silk, "Was it good, Tiger? Did you enjoy degrading me?" For an answer I slipped both hands around her perfect moist breasts and marveled at how firm and light they felt, how little I actually knew about this sliver of steel sheathed in velvet who toyed with me in ways that reached far beyond even my not-impoverished imagination.

I could only manage a bemused, blank stare of disbelief at her, still reflecting upon what I had discovered within myself at such moments as this. "Words are futile, dear heart..."

Dripping from all this spontaneous eroticism, I shrugged. We were both luxuriously spent, despite the heat. More to myself than to her, I muttered, "Somehow or other, we have got to get this trip planned. If you keep this up, we'll never get out the door, and I'll probably die of my head cold before the next opportunity presents. Either that or one of my students will finally launch something that DOES hit me... that is, if there's anything left to hit after this sortie...." I glanced in her direction, expecting a smirk...and got it.

Finally taking the coffee-cup up, I took a gulp and regarded Suki, who had by now gotten up out of that provocative--if exciting--posture on the bed, and was arranging her silky black hair perched on the edge of the bed. She was regarding me through half closed eyes with her veiled 'Guess who just ate the mouse look?', the faintly ironic look of amusement shining there in her eyes in a brief flash. And then, as I regarded her beautiful outlines, she moved off the bed and toward the bathroom, pausing just for a fragment of a second to flash a final flicker of unreadable bemusement at me--an exhausted heap on the bed, sucking caffeine--before vanishing around the corner. "Join me for a shower, Tiger?".....

You would have thought that she had violated me.