” She leaned close to me and whispered in my ear. “Pen, you need to paint.” I nodded.I wondered about my parents’ casual acceptance of the fact that Annette and I were sleeping together ... having sex ... in my room. It didn’t seem that strange, since Fay and I had slept together on and off for years. Would Fay be as accepting? When I thought of her, I didn’t find any change in the way I felt. I loved her. I loved her as absolutely and completely as I loved Annette. And I knew that there would be three of us in my little bed. It gave me a warm feeling as I began sketching.The first thing I thought about Annette was not sex. I guess that was lurking in the back of my mind—I’m seventeen—but what I thought about was the morning she came into my room and examined my painting for the first time. She hadn’t looked at it and nodded before going on to something else. She’d studied it. She’d walked around it and peered at it from every angle as if it was three-dimensional. She silently pointed. I went into the harem kitchen and there was this eighteen year old uncut virgin doing kitchen work. How is she coming along?" Try her yourself, Master, she's ready for anyone." Oh, no thanks. I like my fruit much riper than that," came the jovial reply.Maryam's heart sank. She could now look forward only to the austere life here as one of the General's playthings. If the Emir had tried her she was sure that she would have pleased him so much that he would have taken her back to the much more opulent surroundings of the Golden Palace harem."Yes, find me something a little riper for now but I will have her back, when it's convenient you understand, as I am a little short on hostesses. Hunting takes its toll of them. One we used is now useless, and another actually managed to win and was sent to England to live," explained the Emir."Do you know, old friend," the General paused to see the Emir's reaction to this familiarity, "I often wondered if you really did that? Freed them and gave.
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