It was that great time of day for taking pictures, the magic
hour before sunset. The light was golden on the skins of the
camel drivers as they smoked beside their huge, resting animals,
waiting for tourists needing a ride back to the city from the
big pyramid.
Layla just wanted a few more shots before heading back to her
hotel. The oppressive heat of the day was finally giving way
to a fresh evening breeze, and the young journalist became aware
that her light cotton blouse and flimsy skirt would soon not
be enough to keep her warm. Aiming her camera at a trio of turban-wrapped
peddlers standing by an ancient stone wall, she revelled in
the sights she was capturing in this precious amber light.
As Layla focussed and photographed from different angles, a
muscular young camel-driver watched from a distance. Silently
he noted the tanned bare arms and the curve of her exposed armpit,
the creamy long neck. Each time she turned and raised her camera
to her eye, he made out the shape of her breast silhouetted
by the sinking sun. He felt an ache in his groin and he saw
himself running his hands up under her skirt along those well-shaped
legs, finding her hot wetness and making her cry out with delight.
And he continued to observe the breathtaking vision as she walked
here and there, focussing her zoom lens, clicking and focussing
and clicking again, oblivious to the attention of the aroused
young man.
The sun sank lower, and Layla knew she was losing the light.
Her editor had insisted that the pictures be filed by the next
morning, so this would be her last chance to get the shots she
wanted. She would take just one more, directly into the brilliant
orange sunset, and then she'd wrap up. Removing her shoes, she
climbed onto a low wall to get a better angle through the pyramids
and over the endless sands. As she pointed the camera, concentrating
on the final, perfect shots of the day, the rising breeze moved
her skirt so that it danced around her muscular legs. She stood
with her feet apart to keep herself steady, and the insistent
breeze played around her, unnoticed.
Nearly all the tourists had left the area now, and the remaining
camel drivers were vying for the business of those that lingered.
Several of them were now watching the beautiful blond photographer,
hoping to be the one to take her back to the city. No one approached
her as she worked. They would wait. But they didn't take their
eyes off the vision. She was standing on the wall against the
sunset, wind flapping her skirt, legs apart. And then the skirt
flew up and the men murmured. She never moved to rearrange it,
clearly lost in concentration. The skirt stayed exposing one
long leg for a few moments, then the breeze played again and
the shape of her thighs and luscious round bottom were revealed
for an instant. There was more movement and murmuring and the
men smiled at each other. It was getting dark.
Layla packed up her camera and lenses and hoisted the heavy
bag on her shoulder, looking around for a camel ride back. Surveying
the few remaining men, most of them grizzled and bent-looking,
her sweeping gaze stopped at the handsome young man standing
alone and very still off to one side. Brushing her shoulder-length
hair from her face self-consciously, she could see he was staring
at her, and she felt a twinge in her hips and buttocks. Without
allowing herself to think, she walked toward him, an unhurried
but steady walk. He never took his eyes off her but he drank
in the full length of her body moving toward him, and as she
came closer he could see her erect nipples standing hard in
the chilly evening under their thin cotton barrier.
Taking Layla's heavy bag easily onto his own shoulder, the
dark young man gestured for her to mount the seated camel. Layla
always loved the camel ride, the way the animal's undulating
motion rubbed against her. She looked forward to this trip back.
Once in place, she braced herself for the expected forward lurch
of the camel raising itself to its feet. Normally, the driver
ordered the camel to rise and then walked ahead the whole way.
Instead, to her suprise, the man slid in behind her, pulling
the reins with him and only then shouted to the camel to move.
As the animal pulled itself up from its knees, Layla feared
falling forward, but the young man's strong arm held her firmly
around her waist, pulled toward him, and they stayed locked
until they were stable again.
The last remaining camels had started away from the area with
their drivers riding them, and they were a small caravan heading
into the desert night. The young driver shouted again to his
camel, and they moved forward to the end of the line. The rolling
movement immediately began to have the effect on Layla's open
thighs that it always did, and she leaned forward to feel the
motion directly. In any case, to lean against the driver seemed
inappropriate; he might take it as an invitation, and she didn't
think that was what she wanted to convey. After a couple of
minutes, though, he pulled her back against him, saying, "Sit,
sit," as if he meant her to be more comfortable, so she reluctantly
relaxed against his muscular chest and continued to feel the
pulsating movements of the huge animal beneath her.
They were enveloped by darkness, and the chill of the desert
night was offset by the warmth of the man's body she leaned
against. The rolling movements were starting to make her sleepy,
and Layla closed her eyes. The driver held the camel reins in
his left hand and his right arm was around her waist. But the
hand around her waist began to move, and in her drowsy state
she felt his hand work its way under her loose blouse and run
itself over her smooth belly. Layla's breath quickened and he
felt it. When she made no move to resist, the young man continued
tentatively to her breast, and Layla gasped. As she leaned into
him, she could just see the outline of a camel and its rider
ahead of them. Then she closed her eyes again. At first gently,
and then more hungrily, he squeezed and rubbed her full breasts.
He pulled her close to him so that she could feel how hard he
was. His erect cock pushed into the small of her back. Layla
made small plaintive noises of pleasure mixed with fear. She
had no idea what she was doing or where this was leading, but
she was helpless to stop it even if she wanted to.
Now he had put the reins around his neck in order to have both
hands free. He pulled at the skirt around her knees and ran
his rough hands slowly up the creamy softness of her thighs,
squeezing the plumpness toward the top in a way that made Layla
feel about to faint. All the while he was kissing and biting
at her neck and making what sounded to her like growling noises.
One hand then moved back to massage her breasts while the other
moved to her wet panties. He drove her mad with his aggressive
clutching and rubbing, pulling away at the flimsy fabric until
she heard it tear, and she gasped again. Then his fingers were
in her full wetness, probing inside of her while she squirmed
against him. As he rubbed and pushed his fingers deep into her
pussy insistently, she felt her heart pounding and her breath
coming so quickly she feared the loss of control. And then she
climaxed mightily with a cry of pleasure, as the camel lumbered
on in the darkness.
The camel driver had by now opened his trousers to free his
stiff member, and he easily hoisted the limp and trembling young
woman toward him, just shifting her backward enough to plant
her well-lubricated cunt firmly on his mountainous prick. As
he pulled her down onto himself, Layla felt a stab of pain,
and she let out a shriek, but he ignored it. As if she were
a doll, he pulled her up and pushed her down, over and over.
She tried to make him stop, tried to twist away from him, but
he held both of her wrists in the tight grip of one hand, and
smacked her butt with the other.
As the camel continued its way through the darkness, the young
man was still not satisfied. He pushed the woman's head forward
and threw her skirt over her back and head. While he was still
in her, he began fingering her anus, and this drover her wild.
He worked his finger around the hole, then inside, teasing in
and out. Then he smacked her butt repeatedly with the other
hand, the fingers in her anus getting more and more insistent.
Suddenly, both hands were on her waist again as he pulled her
off his cock. She had become completely helpless and weak, shaking
with both desire and dread. He put the head of his cock into
her anus and began pushing, while jerking her toward him with
each undulation of the camel. Layla moaned, and he kept pushing
until he was inside her all the way. The rocking motion of the
animal kept their rhythm going until the young driver cried
out hoarsely with his own climax. The two barely managed to
stay on the camel, but recovered and rearranged themselves without
speaking.
Only minutes later, the caravan arrived in the city, and the
young photojournalist made her way to her hotel, to ponder the
greatest story she could never report.
