Date: 4 Mar 2002 18:32:10 -0800 From: Jan Subject: Arabic Women in Montreal ( Adult youth f/F , f/F and ff/FF) Warning: This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts between teenaged girls and two women. If this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not read it. Author's Note: This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded for personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if you wish to repost them at your own site, please contact the author for permission. Copyright 2002 Jan. All Rights Reserved. Please mail to: janmay699@icqmail.com if you have suggestions for future chapters. Arabic women in Montreal By Jan I was just a young teenager when my family moved from Tangier to Montreal. I was Lebanese by birth but I was raised in tangier. I identify more with Arabic women. I was already a confirmed lesbian before I immigrated to Canada. Being in a strange culture I did not feel comfortable trying to make passes at all these nice looking French speaking girls. I wanted to find a place I would feel comfortable. I picked up a Montreal weekly Journal news paper at a news stand one day after school. I looked at all the articles and then an add caught my eye in the personal adds. It said, "Arabic social club for women only. Then it gave an address for a coffee house in central Montreal, and a phone number." I called the number to find out more about the club. When I dialed the number I almost hung up before the phone was answered. There was a very pleasant voice of what I could tell was an adult woman that answered in French. I told her my name was Caraam and that I had read the advertisement in the paper and I wanted to find out if the club was something I would feel at home with. She asked me if I was Arabic. I told her I was Lebanese but I had been raised in tangier. She changed to an Arabic dialect. I responded in kind. She asked me if I had ever made love to a woman. I told her that I had been making love to women from the time I was eleven-years old. She chuckled and asked how old I was now. I told her that I was fifteen now. She made a humming sound as she told me that the women of the club would love to meet me. I asked what time I should arrive and if there was any dress requirements? She told me that they met on Tuesdays and why would I ask about dress requirements? I said that some Arabic women are very traditional in dress and I am use to being in western clothes. She told me that all are welcome at the club. Some of the ladies prefer to dress in traditional robes but they do love the sight of a girl in western clothes. I thanked her and said I was looking foreword to meeting her. She told me that she was thrilled to meet me and her name was Maha. Tuesday I got on the bus downtown and walked the couple of blocks to the café near St Catherine and Peel Street called Second Cup. The coffee house was nice a cozy with small tables scattered around the room. . When I entered the coffee house it was almost empty. A very dark skinned young woman came to my table and asked if she could get me anything. I asked for a strong Arabic coffee and said that I was looking for the Arabic women's club. The woman looked me over with burring eyes, as if she were undressing me as I sat there. She said I was at the right place and told me to go through the beaded Curtin to the back room. I will bring your coffee to you. I got up and went through the door and through the kitchen to a back room. When I entered I stood in the door unsure of myself. A dark skinned woman with long black hair approached me. She was in western clothes. Her eyes and lips were very dark and piercing. She took both my hands and said, "You must be Caraam. I am Maha. I am pleased that you found our club. She took both my hands in hers as she kissed my cheek. She put her arm around my waist almost passively. She took me from table to table and at each one she introduced me to the women. They were sitting at small tables of four to a table. There were some women dressed in Arabic costumes that identified what Arabic community they came from. In some cases there were young girls sitting with them in western clothes. At other tables they were all in western costumes. It was harder to figure out where they were from until they spoke in their native tongue. I was directed to her table last. As I sat down next to my hostess, the waitress entered the room with my coffee. I tried to pay for my coffee but the waitress would not hear of it. She told me that she would rather take it out in trade. I looked at my hostess for a meaning to her statement. She whispered in my ear as the waitress left the room that she wants to make love to you. I blushed and looked around the room. I could tell the hungry look in most of their eyes. The ones in Arabic costumes were harder to figure out. By custom the single girls only exposed their eye. The married women's vials were lowered below their noses and the widow's faces were fully exposed. The idea of going to bed with a married woman was making my panties wet. My hostess asked me is there anyone here tonight that I would like to meet. I whispered in her ear that beside you I would like to meet that married Berber sitting next to the young girl in the rose colored dress. She chuckled and said you have good taste. She looked at the woman and with a simple finger next to her nose she let her know that she wanted her to join out table. The woman's eyes sparkled as she took the hand of the girl and let her to our table. They sat down and the woman asked if I minded if her daughter joined us. I told her. "I would love her company." We exchanged names and talked of our sexual preferences. Maha was the first to say that she would be thrilled if we would join her for tea at her home. We all expressed our pleasure at joining her. We made our good byes to the other women there and said that we would see them next week. We gathered up our belongings and followed Maha to her car and I sat in the front next to her and the mother and daughter sat in the back seat. She had an automatic garage door opened. She pulled into the garage and the door closed behind us. We got out of the car and entered a door at the back of the garage. We entered a mud room with a three-quarter bathroom next to it. When we entered the next room it was a game room that was open to a family room and the kitchen and dinning room were visible. We gathered in the family room. It was decorated with fine Arabic rugs and metal art work. The room was rich in reds, gold's, browns and blacks. The house smelled of burning incense. I sat on a couch and the young girl sat next to me. The mother in the Berber robes sat on a big square automat in rich red material. Maha went to the kitchen to make tea for us. When she returned to the family room she had a tray of Arabic treats and a pot of tea for all of us. As hostess she poured tea for all of us and offered the first cup to the Berber woman. She had her veil covering her mouth. That let me know that her husband was still alive. She unhooked it just enough to take a sip of her tea without revealing her face. We all settled down to talk with the refreshing tea and treats. I could feel the pressure of the girl's thigh pressing against my thigh. But I was really more interested in her mother and Maha. I can't help it I am drawn to older women. The women that taught me so much back in Tangier have made me addicted to the feel of older women. Maha asked if we would like to see her bedroom. We were all horny I guess and helped put the tray back in the kitchen before we followed her to her upstairs bedroom. The room looked like a true Bedouin tent. The walls were draped in colorful rugs and felts. The floor was covered in grass mats and the pillows filled the room was like being back on the desert sands. I was enthralled with the dark eyes of the Berber woman and took her hand and led her to a soft pile of pillows and sat down pulling her down next to me. Maha took the teenager by her waist and guided her to a spot next to her mother and sat her down. As Maha undressed the girl I sought out the mouth of her mother to kiss her with all the passion of a lover. She finally removed her veil and I saw her dark lips. I kissed her with all the passion I ever had for the first woman to kiss me. She kicked off her sandals as I undressed myself. When I was as naked as the day I was born I turned my attention to this lovely woman. I removed her hood to see her black hair shinning in the lamplight. Then I put my hands on her ankles and ran my hands up her legs. I was looking at her dark skin and lusting after it like the first woman that let me suck her cunt. I was thrilled to see that her legs were smooth and her haik rose up her body. I could smell her warm cunt before it came into view. She did not have any under garments on. What can I say, I was in love with her pussy. The black hair was all combed in the direction of her cunt. The long tentacles of hair curled over her dark labia. Her labia were visible below the crack of her cunt. Her tummy was soft but not a scar on it. I stood up to remove her haik from her body. Her breasts were about the size of Honeydew melons and her areolas were that same color of brown as her lips and labia's. I settled down next to her on the pillows to hold her next to me and kiss her mouth as I felt her breasts. She put her leg over my thigh and I felt her wet hairs tickling me. As I broke the kiss to move on to her neck and breasts I looked over at Maha and the daughter of my new love. Maha had undressed them both too. I was impressed with Maha's body too. I knew that before I went home I would taste her cunt too. The girl was laying on her back playing with her young breasts as Maha was between her legs sucking the little clitoris for all she was worth. I returned to my duties of administering to the body of this lovely woman. I licked and kissed my way from her neck to her breasts. When I had her right nipple in my mouth and the left in my hand I was thinking that the only thing better would be if she had milk for me. When I scooted down between her legs to open her up her flower of a cunt, to view her clitoris for the first time I saw that she had an ear ring piercing her cunt. I looped my tongue in it and pulled on it a little. Then I gathered up the lose labia in my mouth and sucked on them like they were lose vibrating flesh. When I drove my tongue into the valley of her canal I was rewarded by the wetness of her first climax. I drank the juice like it was the nectar of the gods. Then as I rested my face on her cunt I watched Maha suck the girl to a climax that had her kicking the pillows. We all rested for a few minutes and Maha brought us more refreshments. Then my new goddess took charge and put me on the pillows in such a way that my ass was in the air and my head was resting much lower. She licked my feet and legs like they were sugar. When she found my inner thighs I could feel the juices trickling between the crack of my ass. She claimed her prize with her mouth she reached down and took hold of both my breasts and claimed them like they were melons that she was going to buy and they were the last one in the store. I rewarded her effort with a good taste of my pussy juice. While I was coming I saw her daughter as Maha sat on her face and rubbing her cunt into the mouth of the girl until she bathed her face with juice. After we rested again I moved over to Maha and kissed her on the mouth. She returned the kiss and cupped my breast. Maha took charge and sat me between the legs of the mother so that I was using her breasts for a back rest. She took hold of my tits and played with them while Maha went to work sucking my vagina. The girl got between her legs and buried her face between the crack of Maha's ass. The last thing we did was change places so that I could suck the cunt of the girl while she sucked the cunt of her mom and her mom sucked Maha while she sucked my cunt. Early in the morning Maha drove us home and I was told that as time goes by we would meet every member of the club. I hope you enjoyed the story and want more. Please send your mail to: janmay699@icqmail.com.