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She looked around at the people surrounding her, all of whom seemed from a different world than the one she had come from. She knew that she really didn't belong in Davenport. She couldn't relate to these people, all these spoiled rich types with their fancy clothes, and their fake tits, and the car that daddy gave them, and their drinking, and all their money. She couldn't relate. She had nothing in common with them.And yet, if anything her ability to relate to Salinas was even less. As she always put it: "Maybe I lived in Salinas, but I'm not from there." Even though she was half-Mexican, the tough-guy machista culture of her family's homeland elicited nothing from her but disgust. She had been to Sinaloa several times to visit her grandparents and found the ingrained violence and oppressiveness of the culture there repugnant. The salsa erotica and narco-corridas that were popular in Culiacan offended and nauseated her, every bit as much as the rap music that assaulted her ears in. As my slave?" Sayed finally started smiling."For as long as you want. My life is yours and I will do anything you want, anything. I am giving myself to you as your slave," Farah was automatically saying things that she would not want to say, but she had to say, for no good reason."I will do anything to make you happy," Farah sighed."This is too good to be true," Sayed smiled. He eyed Farah up-and-down taking in her hot pants and the exposed bra under her jacket."Ok then, these are the rules. From now on you must call me Sahib, do you understand?" Sayed asked, becoming drunk with his power over her."Yes ... Sahib," Farah responded meekly. "Sahib" is Arabic for "Master"."Good," Sayed started to smile wickedly. "And I will always refer to you as ... slave. Now come here and kneel before me," Sayed said pointing to the spot in front of him."Yes Sahib," Farah meekly responded. She walked to the spot and knelt before him and as she knelt, Sayed started laughing."I finally get my revenge,".
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The scarlet cammie was pulled over my head, and the pleated mini skirt was unzipped, and dropped down around my ankles. As I stepped out of the circle of clothing he spun me around to face opposite him, and unclasped my bra. He wrapped his warm muscled arms around me and squeezed both breasts the way I had been longing for him to all night long. He leaned his face down to my neck and began nuzzling and kissing as the bra slid down my arms. My red and black thong seemed to hit the floor of its own accord as I turned to help him undress. He stepped back to look at me, and with an appreciative smile, he lifted his arms for me to pull his shirt off of him. I tossed it to the side and started kissing him at his forehead, down his face, pausing on his lips. I continued kissing down his jaw line, his neck, across his chest and abs. I stopped at the button to his jeans. I undid them, and dropped his pants to the floor, then his boxers. He was hard as a rock by the time I got there. I.

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