“Two men were infinitely better than one, an intoxicating combination if I could find it, and my greedy self-indulgence was boundless, my sexuality unleashed those many years ago with him. His shadow haunted me and shaped my obsession, the depth of my depravity deep and forged in the cafes and nightclubs and back alleys in a dozen countries with dozens of men.
Once I’d started down that road, I couldn’t stop and couldn’t go back, a dark and insatiable impulse propelling me forward and driving me into the arms of strangers like the Mohammeds and into the sweltering barren desert.” 〰 Haley 〰
Unable to cope with the loss of her first love, a charming and seductive Spanish soccer player, beautiful, headstrong Haley Hanson abandons love entirely. She seeks solace in the arms of strangers and fame, a tumbleweed rolling where the gusts of wind carry her, and she lands between a garbage bin of rotting food and a brick wall. Stuck in limbo and near death.
Will love destroy her or conquer all?
We headed south and stopped at a carpet store to pick up a small, funky off-road bus. The side of it was painted with a mural of camels, sand and a big yellow sun, and it was well-equipped with multiple spare tires, a satellite phone for communications and a CD player. Momed turned on the music, pumped up the volume, and we sang to ‘80s rock ‘n’ roll, which blared from speakers attached to the roof’s interior. I was ecstatic, pleased we were no longer driver, tour guide and client but new friends enjoying our youth and freedom, and soon, we’d be enjoying each other.
Two hours later, Hammed pulled off the highway and headed into the Western Desert. It was a bumpy ride and I hung on tight, bouncing wildly on the seat, and an hour later, Hammed stopped in the middle of nowhere.
There was sand and barren rocky hills as far as my eyes could see, and it was perfect for what I’d planned, finally alone with the Mohammeds and not a soul in sight to watch our every move.
It was uncharacteristically hot for January, sweat immediately pooling on my forehead and dripping down my spine, and I stripped off my white cotton shirt and jeans, leaving me wearing only a black lacy bra, bikini panties and sandals.
Momed and Hammed stopped setting up the canopy to gape at me, the surprised look on their faces what I’d expected, and I smiled to myself, nonchalantly shrugged my shoulders and said, “It’s freaking hot, guys. Feel free to do the same.”
They didn’t follow my suggestion right away, but after setting up the canopy, spreading the blankets under it and lugging the coolers into the shade, perspiration seeped through their polo shirts and they looked miserable.
It didn’t matter to me. I was certain they’d eventually end up naked in my arms, and then that knowing look passed between them again, and they quickly peeled off their clothes and stood before me wearing only white jockey underwear, and they were magnificent, beautiful…
Their hard bodies–one pale and one golden–glistened with sweat, and their cocks bulged beneath the jockeys, making my stomach clench and pulse race, and it took all my willpower to stop myself from immediately pouncing on them. It was almost too much, my pussy plump and throbbing and hot juices accumulating between my legs, but I acted like I didn’t notice. Instead, I sank to my knees and began organizing lunch, clad in the skimpy undergarments as I laid out plastic food containers, and I could sense their eyes following my every move, their lust electrifying the stark landscape and me.
There’s nothing to compare it to, that feeling of sexual power over men, except maybe taking that perfect shot, and I had a strong urge to snap their picture, their silhouettes shadowed under the canopy yet fully formed close up. And they were close, their musky scents teasing my nostrils and manhood tantalizing my libido, and a rush of sweet satisfaction surged through me.
I forced myself to calm and sat cross-legged on the blanket, intentionally opening up my sex to them while also opening a beer, and I dramatically took a big swig. It was ice cold and I rubbed the cold can on the nape of my neck, my body on fire, heated from the desert and hot anticipation.
“Do you want one?” I asked. “There’s water and soda, too.”
I wasn’t surprised when they both grabbed a beer from the cooler. There were no prying eyes to see them and no one to admonish them, and they sucked it down as if it was water.
I didn’t say anything, their religion their own business, and I passed around the food–flatbread, salads and vegetables marinated in olive oil and little pies filled with meat and cheese, and for dessert, a semi-sweet pastry filled with nuts.
The meal was delicious, made more so by the crisp desert silence and half-naked Mohammeds, their stiff cocks hidden by the jockeys a constant reminder of what was to come, and I crawled on all fours, giving them a good look at my ass as I cleaned up and placed the leftovers back into the cooler, and then I scooted between them and rested on my knees, glancing from one to the other.
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About the Author
From the author of the erotic romance series “The Vitamin D Treatment” and “Side Effects, The Vitamin D Treatment Finale”, Julia Bramer turns the erotic romance genre upside down in “Tumbleweed”. Tapping into readers’ primal fears and incorporating reverse gender stereotypes and recent historical events in an intelligent way, she weaves a complex tale of love, heart-racing romance and sex.
Julia is the former Executive Director of a charitable foundation in Colorado and has traveled the world with her husband seeking an understanding of different cultures and gathering stories. Her novels incorporate many of the places she’s visited and people she’s met along the way.
Contact Julia Bramer
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