Chapter 8

So, as we settled in for the night, resting in each other’s company, I decided to ask for the truth from as many of my partners as I could handle. I started with Samira al-Said, suspecting that she had stronger feelings for me than she told me in the past. If I was right, she was certain to be my third wife ... and the Queen of Libya. Others could just deal with that.

“So, tell me, Samira, how do you actually feel about me?” I inquired, knowing that Samira could never lie to me due to the Fae, but especially after I had just taken her forty ways to Sunday.

“I’m ... in love with you, Frank. I have been for at least a month,” Samira confessed, unable to lie to me and relieved that she could speak the truth at last.

“Good! You’re now my third wife ... and Queen of Libya. The rest of the world can deal with it! Samira al-Said-Drake has a nice ring to it, right? Oh, and I’ve now added a middle name. I am now Francis Ruiz Soyon al-Said Drake. As I take wives, I will add their surnames among my middle names as a gesture of affection. Long live Queen Samira I of Libya! Long may she reign!” I announced, watching Samira’s grey eyes dance with delight as she realized that she was now a monarch as well as my latest bride.

“Welcome, sister-wife!” Tang told Samira as she kissed her fiercely on the mouth.

“Yeah, what she said!” Sabrina laughed and winked at Tang as she planted a lip lock on Samira.

Samira was a rare kind of North African beauty, typical of Libya, but seldom seen outside the Sahara Desert and Africa’s Barbary Coast. She had not white-blonde hair, pure white, with grey eyes and olive skin, a wondrous blend of Arab and Berber traits. She had grown up under Muammar Qaddafi’s rule, but had to flee that country when he was toppled and the various warlords filled the vacuum with their brutality and slavery. Ol’ “Brother Colonel” was a flawed ruler, but he was evidently the lesser evil compared to what followed him.

“I will NEVER forget this, Frank! Never!” Samira assured me as she planted several kisses all over my body, her tears falling on my skin.

“I know, Your Majesty,” I told her with a kiss on her lips, followed by more kisses that traced my way down to her ass, making her shiver.

“Yes, well, our son ... will make a truly great King of Libya, trust me on that!” Samira promised as I continued to kiss a long path down to her ankles.

“Our son ... or daughter,” I reminded her, which made her giggle.

“Yes, that, too ... but just so you know, I’m already ... with child. Yours, of course. Not that I haven’t put out for others, but at a certain time, I briefly dropped them to ensure that you bred me. I resumed after my missed period made me suspicious that I was knocked up and my pregnancy test confirmed it. I’m gonna love making babies with you ... lots of them ... and lots with any other man that you designate! Your Jinn has definitely given you much potency! Good for him ... or them or her ... whatever they are. I owe you both so much!” Samira admitted more truths about herself, revealing just how ardent her love was for me.

“See now, that’s what I call a woman in love!” the Fae confirmed, “by the way, I’m a Fae, so not technically a Jinn in the Islamic sense, but the older meaning of it still applies. A nature spirit.”

“Well, I would kiss you if I could for this!” Samira blew a kiss into the air.

“The gesture is much appreciated. What’s that American, or rather Draconian saying, ‘it’s the thought that counts,’ right? Not always true, but it applies very well here,” the Fae answered.

“Yes, thank you. I owe you a lot,” I agreed with Samira.

“Yes and no. You owe me, but in case you forgot, I owe you as well. We Fae all do, for saving this planet from the wreckage and carnage created by your fellow man. It is fitting that mere mortal men caused this turmoil and a superior, more evolved version of the same species resolved it. You are a man, but no mere mortal, of that much I have guaranteed myself,” the Fae recalled with proper respect for me as its friend and partner.