The Egyptian Beauty

Joseph

Joseph's body shook with desire as the woman again ran her finger down his rippling chest. "Joseph," she whispered through full, red lips, "I can't stop thinking about you. I want you....I want all of you."

Joseph's felt the loin cloth around his waist tightening as his massive erection grew longer and harder. "And I you," he moaned in response. His powerful fingers slid through the beautiful maiden's silky black hair. "I cannot resist the desire any longer."

Their lips met in an electric burst. Joseph held her curvaceous figure against his own muscular one, moaning as his manhood rubbed against her belly. His fingers moved to disrobe her until the passion of the moment was interrupted by the shriek of a bird.

***

Joseph slowly opened his eyes. The first rays of sunlight had barely began to creep over the desert horizon, but despite the groggy feeling that clouded his senses, he knew it was morning. The same shriek that had filled his ears a moment earlier sounded once more and as Joseph lifted his head, he realized it had been a dream.

Joseph clenched his fists and a long sigh escaped his lungs as he sat up in bed. Standing and moving to the window, he saw a falcon circling in the sky, the source of the noise that had ended his dream.

To the east, Joseph could see the sunlight just beginning to illuminate the Pyramids of Giza. Despite having lived in Potiphar's household for nearly 11 years now, the sight never ceased to amaze him. The architecture was as beautiful as it was impressive. However, as Joseph looked down and saw his still throbbing erection, he was reminded that he had a different kind of admiration for beauty that remained unsatisfied.

Joseph had been only 17 years old when his half-brother's had been overcome by jealousy and sold him into slavery. He had been old enough to be regarded as a man by his tribe, but not yet old enough to have taken a bride and laid with her. A red blooded man, like his father and grandfather before him, Joseph had regularly fantasized about the moment, but once he had become a slave, little hope that the moment would ever come remained.

Joseph was now 28, and certainly more of a man than he'd been on the day he'd been dragged away from the lush fields of Canaan. He stood nearly 6 foot 3 inches tall. His arms and torso had become large and sculpted from years of intense labor. Having been made the lead servant of the household, his thick black hair and beard were kept neatly trimmed so as to reflect well on his master.

Joseph's simple tunic may not have been impressive, but he had long since noticed that the few women that he did interact with looked at him with desire. Be they servant girls, merchants daughters, or dancers entertaining his master and his master's guests, Joseph could sense the sexual tension that always seemed to arise when he was in the presence of a female.

It made it all the more torturous for Joseph. He was at last a man, and if he had remained with his father, he undoubtedly would've tasted love with only the most beautiful of maidens by now. However, he remained a salve. So close, yet so eternally far from the most beautiful of women, and in the land of Egypt no less. Egypt was the greatest empire on the face of the earth.

Joseph sighed once more as he stretched his muscular arms. There would be time for fantasy again when he slipped into bed that evening. For now there was work to be done.

The fields were undoubtedly already being handled by the farm hands, and the stable attendants would be tending to Potiphar's animals. That only left the supervision of the estate's maintenance, the cleaning of the bath, and of course, attending to Potiphar's wife. Zuleikha.

Joseph cracked his knuckles as he walked down the hallways of the estate. Zuleikha was his master's wife, yet still she caused such a deep longing in his loins. She should not even cross his mind in that fashion, and yet she did.