“My story is a love story. Two people who cannot be together, but whose love is a constant burning flame within, but manage to find their one and only chance to finally touch. I chose to play this out between an Arabic man and an African American woman because it reaches back into my own heritage. The ancient Middle Eastern stories of love and passion have always drawn me in. It could be because those ancient flames burn within me and I feel most comfortable writing about love from an ancient Arabic perspective. Last, but not least, I love exploring and playing with characters who live outside the mundane world; who live each moment of their lives in full tilt.”
The guttural buzz of Pamela Haddington’s alarm clock snatched her out of her sweet oblivion. Her hands crawled frantically, like a spider, over the clock, searching for the off button. When her fingers found the familiar protrusion, she slammed it down with her palm.
Rolling over, onto her back, and staring up at the ceiling, Pamela was already overwhelmed, and dreaded the prospect of another day of psychological warfare with her slightly conniving, and temperamental boss, Ari Perlstein. She worked five days a week, eight-thirty in the morning to four-thirty in the afternoon, at Philadelphia Public Adjusters, where she was the Operations Manager. Her only indulgence during her day was her trek over to the Mediterranean Paradise Restaurant, where Nadir waited for her daily.
Nadir, the owner of Mediterranean Paradise Restaurant, and the first man, in two years, who made Pamela want to spread her legs, wide, at the very sight of him, was a powerfully built Arabic man, who had a swagger that was damn near “Hood”.
Originally, he was from Jerusalem – a citizen of Israel actually – but, ethnically, he was a Palestinian, so that made him a modern day Philistine. His complexion was hued with copper, his depthless, intense dark eyes were framed by lush, decadent eye lashes, and it was all topped off by his curvy, sensuous lips. His brooding manner made him appear to be always in deep thought, simmering on something important.
If only Nadir were with her right now, his broad chest firmly pressing down on top of her breasts, as she welcomes the weight of his nude body. His lips touch hers, kissing her lightly; his warm tongue coaxing hers from its hiding place with every noisy smack of their lips. He lifts his head and locks eyes with her, his wild black curls, tumbling, around his bronze face. She caresses his neatly groomed beard, inching her fingers upward, towards his hairline, then, plunging all of her fingers into the silken mass of hair on his head. She grabs fistfuls of locks, pulling him back down, towards her lips, and kisses him with an abandon of a ravenous animal.
Nadir, ignoring the brick hard flesh that gently bats against Pamela’s inner thigh, abruptly pulls away from her, smiling; not a benevolent smile, but the smile of a hunter who has finally entrapped his prey. He presses his lips against her neck, sending sensuous chills down her spine, and an involuntary spasm at the mouth of her pussy. His velvety lips, walking the landscape of her body, find the chocolate brown towers of her nipples. He unleashes his tongue, firmly licking each nipple, alternately, making them so hard that a delicious pain forces Pamela to moan his name, “Nadir!”
Her breathy sigh of his name causes him to look up. “What do you want of me?” he asks, his heavy accent making him sound like a jin, or genie, ready to grant her wish.
“You already know,” she says.
Pamela wraps her fingers around his curls again, gently pushing him further down, until the lips of his mouth meet, and kiss, the lips of her aching pussy. He slides his large hands underneath her buttocks, and lifts her slightly, causing her thighs to open before him, revealing all of her hidden treasure.
His full mouth sucks on her protruding clit, gently at first, causing more blood to rush to her groin and engorge her pussy until it sits in front of her Arabian knight like a plump pastry. An unexpected wave of indescribable warmth spreads from deep within her womb and flows toward Nadir’s beckoning mouth. She digs her hands into his hair, pulling his head deeper into her crotch, as she undulates harder, meeting his mouth eagerly.
“Ah, Nadir…just like that.” She sighs.
He licks and sucks, like a starved glutton, pushing his tongue deep into her slippery canal, finally pushing her over the edge, inciting the ring of muscles, surrounding his snake-like tongue, to clamp down hard, over and over again, until there were no more contractions left. There was only quiet, the calm after a storm…
Pamela’s eyes slowly fluttered open. She stared at the ceiling again, feeling more relaxed, and ready to tackle the day’s bullshit. She removed her fingers from her soaked clit and thought of what it would be like to jump in the shower with Nadir, after a good morning fuck.
She truly envied his wife.
Carla P. Morales, a Philadelphia native, first began to take her writing seriously in 1988, a time of great struggle and hardship, when she was raising four small children on practically nothing. During this time, she became a student at the Bushfire Theater of Performing Arts Writers Workshop, where she met her mentor, P.J. Gibson, a world renowned playwright who has won awards around the world, and has written for television shows, such as, The Cosby Show, and Women of Brewster Place.
Carla’s latest work is the full length play, El Bandido. It is the journey of a prodigal son who has lost his way in the turbulent and exiting world of exotic dancing. El Bandido’s most recent production was at Community College of Philadelphia in October of 2009. This is her first anthology and she is the Founder/CEO of Landmark Productions, LLC.
Find her at: www.landmarkproductionsllc.com
Buy Untapped: http://www.naughtyinkpress.com/#!nis-press