Date: Sat, 10 Jan 2009 20:05:23 -0800 (PST)
From: John Black <blackhunk33@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Saracen, Chapter 3

       He slowly pulled out of Hugues' ass and lay next to him.  They
kissed tenderly, and then napped for half an hour.  Hugues awoke when he
felt his ass being pried apart with big hands.  He looked over his shoulder
in time to see Abdullah bury his face in the Duke's well-pleasured and
jizz- filled ass.  "Are you getting me ready for another fuck or are you
trying to lick out your load?" Hugues whispered lustily.  The big Arab
didn't respond, only speared his tongue deeper and pressed Sir Hugues' ass
cheeks farther apart.  "I guess it doesn't make any difference," the Duke
allowed.  "Either way, I'm happy."

					Chapter 3


	He was both eaten and drilled.  Sir Hugues loved the big Arab's
love-making.  If only life could be this simple and good all the time.
But, in this era of turmoil, that would be difficult.  His biggest concern
was his legacy; specifically, he had no heirs, that kind of legacy.  Oh,
his brother was surely salivating at the prospect of inheriting the
dukedom, and was officially the next in line.  But, his brother was
nefarious, untrustworthy, venal, and had more bastard children than the
local bishop (which numbered 13 at last count).  The Duke's brother was
married and did have two legitimate children, just as grasping and venal as
their father.

	One way to keep his properties, goods, and title from his brother
was to give all his worldly possessions to the Church.  But, that idea made
his stomach flop.  Generally, the men he knew in the Church were just as
worldly and disreputable as his brother.  He liked neither alternative;
trading one group of hedonists for another didn't suit him.  He must give
the problem more thought, and soon.  He wasn't getting any younger.

	"You must marry," Abdullah decided after Hugues had finally
confessed what had been weighing on his mind for the last month.  "It's
your only option."

	"But, Abdullah," complained Hugues, "that would be disloyal to you
and dishonest to whomever I marry.  And what of us?"

	"I'm not worried about us, my prince.  We are as permanent as the
pyramids of Egypt."  He paused a moment to reflect.  "We can keep our
secret from your wife.  I have been observing your people," the Arab
smiled.  "Your men and women lead separate lives.  This is especially true
with the aristocracy.  There are exceptions, of course, but the men take
their sexual favors when they wish with their wives.  Mostly, they sow
their seed with some nubile wench that attracts their eye.  The rest of the
time, they're drinking themselves into a stupor and skirmishing or playing
at war with their neighbors and friends.  Their lives are as empty as their
marriage vows."

	"You judge us too harshly," the Duke responded.  "But," he sighed,
"your observations aren't far wrong."  Hugues thought for a moment.  "Are
you sure this won't be a problem for us?"

	"I'm sure," Abdullah smiled.  "Our love transcends worldly matters.
Do you doubt that you can still love me after you wed?"

	"You are my soul-mate.  I can't imagine my life without you.  But,
you know I must spend nights with my new wife in order to sire children.
Distasteful as that may be in the abstract, it is physically an act of
love."

	"Nonsense," the big Arab laughed.  "It's an act of sex.  Surely,
you had relations with women before you went on Crusade.  You're a young
man with needs.  Pierre couldn't have provided all outlets for you.  Or did
he?"

	Hugues laughed, too.  "No, I've dallied with damsels."

	"And you completed the act?"

	"Yes, of course."

	"So, how would this be different?  You still went back to Pierre
for what you truly enjoyed."

	"Yes.  Yes, I did," Hugues agreed.  "And it would be different
because I didn't love Pierre, but I do love you."

	The big Arab smiled.  He never tired of hearing that.  "Your court
physician can tell you when your new bride is most fertile, so you won't
have to spend that many nights in your marriage bed," Abdullah said,
getting back to the subject.  "Set your chamberlain about finding a
suitable match for you, Hugues.  The sooner we accomplish your legacy, the
sooner we can spend more time with each other."

	"You would do this for me?"

	"Of course," the black man answered.  "I left my own land to be
with you.  I couldn't love you more if I had to.  You taking a wife will
not change that."

	"You were coerced to leave your lands by the pursuing Crusaders,"
Hughes pointed out.

	"But, I went to your lands of my own will.  I could have stayed in
Egypt.  The Crusaders only provided the impetus."

	"I shall rely on your good judgment to help me find the right
maiden to marry," Hugues cautioned.  "But, you shall still be the man in my
life, truly, the only love in my life."

	And so they set about finding a suitable match for the Duke of
Toulouse.  The local women of marriageable age were already married or of
an inferior family or ancestry.  Those wouldn't do.  The Chamberlain cast
his marriage net wider, finally landing upon Constantia of Savoy.  She was
the youngest daughter of Amadeus, Duke of Aosta (recently created so by the
Holy Roman Emperor).  Hugues would make a political match with the rising
noble family of Piedmont and curry the favor of the Emperor (who was
neither holy nor Roman).  A match of two ducal families would be celebrated
all over Europe.  Hopefully, she wasn't ugly or deformed.  The Chamberlain
assured the Duke that she was neither and produced a small portrait of her,
painted at the Duke's direction.  She was an attractive girl, somewhat
childlike in appearance.

	"Just how old is this child?" Abdullah asked of the Chamberlain.

	"She is 18, Sir, last spring."

	"You say she's comely?" Hugues pressed.

	"Yes, Your Grace.  Fit for a Duke," the Chamberlain replied with a
bow.  "And a virgin, of course."

	"Yes, of course," Hugues smiled.  What healthy girl of 18 would not
have already sampled the strapping young men of her realm already?
"Petite?"

	"Yes, Your Grace, petite, full of figure, but not too much so, with
full hips and breasts for child- bearing," the Chamberlain expanded.  "A
good match, Sire."

	"Yes, yes," the Duke responded impatiently.  "What of the dowry?

	"The Duke of Aosta offers 10,000 gold crowns and 1000 head of
cattle.  She would bring three of her own ladies-in-waiting with her."

	"An added expense," the Duke muttered.  "No offer of lands, I
suppose.  His duchy is too far from mine?"

	"I could pursue other possible ladies in the courts of the Dukes of
Normandy or Burgundy," the Chamberlain suggested.  "Perchance in the King's
Court?

	"Their father's are not friends to Toulouse.  They would soon be in
my lands trying to annex me," Hugues bristled.  "No, this match will do,
the dowry is adequate.  Draw up the marriage contract, Chamberlain, and
let's be done with it."

	"At once, Your Grace."

	"When can she be here?"

	"Within a month, Sire, but I'm not sure how quickly the Duke of
Aosta can send the dowry."

	"Get the signatures on the contract.  We'll worry about the actual
wedding as soon as the dowry arrives.  And be clear, Chamberlain," Hugues
warned.  "The gold crowns are the Duke's responsibility until the money is
in my hands here.  The cattle, the same way.  If cattle are lost along the
way, he shall make up for the loss.  Am I clear?  Security is his problem
until the dowry AND the bride-to-be arrive here safely."

	"Yes, my lord, by your command."

	When the Chamberlain was out of the room, Abdullah burst out
laughing.  "My!  Aren't you the negotiator!  You had the Chamberlain
quaking in his boots."

	"That was intentional," the Duke responded with a secretive smile.
"I wanted the message to be conveyed to the aging Duke of Aosta that I'm
not to be trifled with.  Such hardness will be conveyed to my young bride,
I'm sure, so she won't be expecting the gallant prince of her dreams.  My
gallant prince is already here."

	"She'd be a fool to think that a Duke wouldn't have hard, male
manners born of his training and warring in foreign lands.  She's lucky to
have you, considering your capture and escape from the Infidels," he
laughed.

	"This Infidel has captured my heart," Hugues smiled and groped the
Arab's firm ass.  "But, she is young and could have all kinds of romantic
notions of how a good husband should treat his wife," Sir Hugues protested
vaguely, still clinging to his lover.  "These damned troubadours put all
kinds of silly notions into the empty heads of young women."

	"I think your Chamberlain will disabuse her of that."

	"I hope she speaks French or has had some schooling in languages.
I don't speak Piedmont or Italian or any of their local dialects.  If she's
had some training, we could devolve to Latin, I suppose," Hugues sighed.

	"I'm not much help there, I'm afraid.  My Italian is limited.  My
German is better and so is my Greek.  Even my English is passable.  But, it
wouldn't be my place to be interpreter anyway," Abdullah concluded with a
kiss and an equal groping of the Duke's hard ass.

	"Perhaps, not.  I should have asked the Chamberlain that question."
They parted for a moment while the Duke opened the heavy oak door to his
grand hall and asked the sentry to find the Chamberlain and bring him back
immediately for additional questions.

	The Chamberlain was a short distance away, dictating the terms of
the marriage contract to the Duke's clerk.  "Yes, Your Grace?" the
Chamberlain asked after bowing.

	"Does this, uh, Constantia speak French?"

	"Yes, Your Grace, but as a foreigner.  She has an accent, but it
should disappear quickly after she is surrounded here by native speakers,"
the Chamberlain explained.

	"Has she had much education then?  Can the girl read and write?"

	"Those lessons befitting the daughter of a Duke, I'd say.  I know
she can read and write her own name, but I didn't press further," he
admitted.

	"I don't want a dunce for a wife," Hugues blustered.  "Make sure
she has the appropriate tutors when she arrives for subjects in which she
is lacking.  I don't expect her to have the education I do, but she should
at least be conversant in history and literature.  She must know something
more than dresses and such."  Again, the Duke paused, thinking.  "Oh, and
Chamberlain, see to it that a bath is constructed in her rooms.  I don't
want to share a bed with a malodorous cow."

	"Yes, Your Grace," the Chamberlain smiled.  The Duke's frequent
bathing was still the talk of the castle.  With a bow, the Chamberlain
turned to leave.

	"Chamberlain!  One last question.  How soon will you be leaving for
Savoy?" Hugues asked.

	"I shall leave tomorrow, if it pleases Your Grace."

	"It does," the Duke smiled.  "Good travels, Chamberlain.  God go
with you."  Before the Chamberlain could leave, Hugues spoke up again.
"And Chamberlain, take her some gift that she'd enjoy, some jewelry
perhaps?" he suggested with a nod to Abdullah.  "My friend here is very
well versed in what engages the female mind in that way.  Consult with him
before you leave."  Abdullah nodded serenely as if it were a most
reasonable suggestion.  The Chamberlain bowed again and left.

	With the Chamberlain finally out of the room, Hugues smiled at
Abdullah and remarked, "I hope that didn't put you on the spot, but I did
see many trinkets that would dazzle any woman; and you and I have no need
for such trifles.  What would your good senses tell you would be a suitable
gift for my fiancée?"

	"Many necklaces and crowns are in my treasure chests.  Let's go
look and decide together."

	So, they went to the Duke's treasury and opened the two most
promising chests that Abdullah thought might contain such items.  "Ah, this
one," Abdullah smiled.  He held up a heavily jeweled necklace that would
cascade down to the breasts of a woman.  The jewels were held in place by
an intricate lacework of worked gold.

	"What about his?" Hugues asked as he held up a small, jeweled crown
with an astonishingly large emerald at the center.

	The Arab looked at it a moment, then nodded.  "I think that would
be better used at her coronation as Duchess, don't you?"  Hugues smiled and
readily agreed.  "There are other jewels here for her fingers and wrists
that will be wedding gifts from you."

	"I'll ask one of my cabinetmakers to create a special chest to hold
all these items for her," the Duke said.  "But, the chest and jewels will
stay in the treasury, only to come out when she wishes to wear them.  I
don't want them disappearing into the hands of others by lying about in her
chambers."

	"A wise precaution, Your Grace," Abdullah bowed.

	"And I have other jewelry from my family that I can give her upon
the birth of our first child, a son, God willing," Hugues opined, "and more
for other children's births and special occasions."

	"An heir and a spare, Sir Hugues?  A good practice, given the
regrettable death rate of children."

	"Yes, a sad thing, but reality."

	"Hopefully, your new bride is a strong woman and will not perish in
childbirth as so many do," Abdullah sighed.  "My father had numerous wives
for that very reason.  My cousin, of whom I've spoken before, the one
killed in battle, never knew his mother."

	"Perish the thought!" the Duke exclaimed.  "I don't wish to have to
marry again!"

	"You are correct, Sir Hugues," Abdullah said with another bow.
"Let us not invite disaster by speaking of something which probably will
never happen."

	The following weeks raced by.  The Duke and Abdullah began
preparations for a grand wedding, ordering extra food, wine, and
entertainment.  His distrust and dislike of the Bishop caused him to
request the good offices of the Archbishop to officiate at the wedding.  As
Hugues was a Duke, the Archbishop agreed.  Additionally, he wanted the
wedding blessed by the Pope.  The Archbishop promised to send off a letter
asking for the Pope's blessing on the marriage.  As the bride and groom
were not related closer than the 4th degree, there was no need to get the
Pope's dispensation.  But, it was still a politically smart move to add the
Pope to those working on his behalf.

       That should keep the Duke's brother in line and squelch any thoughts
that brigand may have of poisoning or otherwise disposing of the Duke, he
thought.  His brother had been more than pleased to see the Duke gallop off
to Outremer (the general name given to the Crusader states established
after the First Crusade: the County of Edessa, the Principality of Antioch,
the County of Tripoli and especially the Kingdom of Jerusalem) to crusade
against the Infidel.  The odds of the Duke coming back had not been very
good.  Hugues had heard that his brother had nearly moved into the castle
when it was learned that the Duke had been captured or slain in a great
battle.  The welcoming banquet and Mass of Thanksgiving for the Duke's
return found his brother in a most foul mood.

	Fall was rapidly approaching.  The harvests were in and people were
eager to celebrate a good harvest season as well as the Duke's spectacular
wedding.  His bride-to-be had arrived.  She was a comely lass, demur,
soft-spoken, of modest intelligence and speech, and in awe of her
husband-to- be.  He towered over her by at least eight inches.  But, he put
her at ease and she soon warmed to him.  However, Abdullah was another
matter.  He frightened her.  He was swarthy, huge, menacing, and nearly
always at the Duke's side.  Hugues had explained his need for security and
Abdullah's presence, but that didn't make young Constantia any less
intimidated by the big Arab.

	Two weeks later, the money and cattle arrived.  The Duke of Aosta
had the foresight to include 20 extra head of cattle in case some died
along the way.  Five did.  Four others drowned at a river crossing.  The
extra eleven were the Duke of Aosta's gift to the bride and groom for their
wedding dinner, as a letter from Amadeus, the Duke of Aosta said.  The
horses and wagons of the bride's entourage were also a gift.  However, the
escort and their horses were not.  They were to return as soon as was
convenient.

	Abdullah thought it would be a generous gesture to include the
bride's escorts in the wedding dinner, then sent on their way with the
Duke's thanks.  Hugues agreed.  The men and their horses could use the
rest.

	Word was sent to the Archbishop that all was in readiness.  The
Duke and his bride-to-be were ready to be married on Friday, three weeks
hence (having consulted the physician on her most fertile time).  Other
guests were told of the date and invited.  The Dukes of Normandy and
Burgundy accepted; the King did not as he was in Outremer fighting the
Infidels.  Quarters were prepared for the Dukes and their families.  Their
entourage would be camping in the surrounding fields as designated by Sir
Hugues.  Other luminaries were quartered in the local churches which always
welcomed travelers.  The Duke's retainers were invited, but had to make
their own arrangements.  As most of them lived closer than a day's ride,
that was no burden.  But, with several days of celebration planned, they
stayed at local inns and churches, or traveled back and forth daily.

	Three weeks passed quickly.  Abdullah had Hugues practice for his
wedding bed twice a day (to the joy of both of them), using the Saracen's
eager ass.  Because the Duke's penis was larger than most men and his
bride-to-be was petite, Abdullah convinced Hugues that the new groom should
perform cunnilingus on her to get her ready for his very large dick.  That
meant that Hugues had to eat out Abdullah's black ass frequently.  They
both loved the practice, especially the deep climax in Abdullah's hungry
ass.  That's not to say that Hugues always topped his Arab lover.  Abdullah
ravaged him daily with his monstrous dick buried deeply in the Duke's
muscular ass.  If anything, the wedding preparations made them even more
needful of sex than before.

	As the wedding day arrived, Sir Hugues was on the verge of a
nervous collapse.  He continuously questioned Abdullah about the chance
that the Duke couldn't "perform" in his marriage bed.  Women didn't turn
him on, men did!  What if he couldn't get it up?  The big Arab assured him
that his bride-to-be was just as nervous as he was.

	"But she just has to lie there!  I have to perform!" the Duke
blustered.

	"You're young.  You'll have no problem," Abdullah assured him.
"That's why we haven't allowed you to pump out a load since yesterday
afternoon.  You'll be so randy by tonight that you'll probably bust your
nut before you get all the way inside her!"  Hugues didn't laugh, but
Abdullah did.  "Stop worrying.  That only makes things worse.  A
self-fulfilling prophecy is the last thing you need.  Concentrate instead
on the wedding banquet and your duties as a host.  Those are more important
than satisfying your husband duties on your first night.  If you need
inspiration, think of me pounding your beautiful ass with this."

	 Abdullah produced his formidable weapon.  Hugues fell to his knees
and sucked greedily on the tip.  The big, black man encouraged the Duke to
suck him off, cumming quickly.  He'd had to slap Sir Hugues' hand away from
stroking his own dick as he blew the giant phallus.  He didn't want the
Duke to cum also in his pants.  He had to save that for his new bride.

	"To save yourself from the anticipation, why not bed your new bride
as soon as the ceremony is over?" Abdullah suggested.  "There will be
adequate time before the wedding dinner.  And if that doesn't work, there
is always tonight.  You may find you'll want to visit her bed again tonight
anyway, just to be sure.  And I'll have a very special gift for you when
you return to our bed."

	"What is it?" the Duke smiled.

	"After the ceremony, you'll find out."


This story is fiction.  Your life isn't.  ALWAYS play safe.

Constructive criticism to blackhunk33@yahoo.com