No matter how hard I closed my eyes and tried to cling to the present, it was impossible to banish these visions. My pleasure came very quickly. Too quickly, no doubt. Violent. Deep. Terribly generous. A lightning-fast pleasure, which seized me long before I could control it, carrying me away like a crashing wave that left no room for restraint. It was as if all the tension accumulated over the course of this troubling day with Peter was finally exploding, coursing through my body with an almost painful intensity. Madeleine, taken aback, turned her head slightly towards me, surprised. She, who was used to my long embraces, to my usually infallible endurance, couldn't help but breathe out, both amused and intrigued: "Already?" Her tone was neither mocking nor frustrated, but I could sense the sincere astonishment in her voice. And I, still panting, my muscles stiff with the intensity of the moment, remained silent for a moment, unable to give her an explanation that would have made sense. For how could I tell her that it wasn't just her I'd possessed tonight, but also all those images of Peter that had kept dancing in my mind? Not wanting to be outdone, and especially eager to erase any frustration she might have felt at my too-quick climax, I devoted myself entirely to her. Finally freed from my tensions, I was able to take my time, savor each quiver, explore her body with infinite patience. I applied myself to reaching for the skies, to erasing with my lips and tongue any trace of astonishment she might have had a few moments earlier. And it was long, very long. A gradual and profound pleasure, which I prolonged without restraint, until she completely abandoned herself under my caresses, until she tensed, arched, then collapsed in a stifled cry, overcome by the intensity of the moment. When it was all over, when our bodies were finally at peace, we found ourselves entwined against each other, almost tenderly, in an embrace where, for once, there was neither play nor provocation, just the instinctive need to prolong the sweetness of the moment. She, perhaps in the fullness of her pleasures taken, between my body and Karim's, who must have filled her all day. And me... Me, gradually letting my mind drift, carried by the captivating images of that day with Peter, by the fleeting sensations of her body pressed against mine on the motorcycle, by the brightness of her white skin in the dark water of the basin. Two bodies soothed, but perhaps not by the same memories. Then, without a word, we fell asleep, each carrying within us the ghost of another desire. We spent the night like this without waking up once.As usual, well before dawn, while the night still enveloped Riyadh in its warm veil of darkness, I woke up first. My body had long since adopted this rhythm, this need to anticipate the day, to leave Madeleine's bed before the light revealed what the night so effectively erased. And besides, Daoud would surely join me. I knew it. He always came. But this time, Madeleine, exceptionally, woke up at the same time as me. She opened her eyes slowly, searched for me with her fingertips, then, in a voice still heavy with sleep, she apologized: "It was a good night, wasn't it? Perhaps not up to your expectations..." I turned to her, a smirk on my face, ready to downplay it, to tell her that everything was perfect. But she didn't give me time. She stretched lasciviously, then added with a sincere sigh, "You understand... Karim exhausted me. I was drained." There was a mixture of amusement and sincerity in her voice, as if she herself was still astonished by the intensity she had experienced. I didn't reply immediately, contenting myself with observing her, her face still marked by sleep and consummate pleasure. She wasn't lying. She had obviously been satisfied. Perhaps a little too much. And deep down, that suited me perfectly. She stared at me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "Tell me... How can you be attracted to men and women with the same ardor?" Her gaze was piercing, almost incredulous. I could guess what intrigued her. She knew what I had felt with her—several times, with passion, with hunger. She had also seen me with Younes, when there were three of us, and she had perceived in my body the same intensity, the same burning desire. She knew about Daoud… Perhaps that was what troubled her: there was no difference, no gradation, just a sincere desire being expressed. I smiled and shrugged, raising my glass before answering: “Attraction is not an equation. It is not a scale where you have to weigh more on one side than the other. It is a vibration, an obvious fact. What touches me, what excites me, is not a gender, it is a person. You, for example, it is not because you are a woman that I wanted you, it is because you are you. Younes too, in a different register, but with the same intensity, just like Daoud, totally different from his son.” I swallowed, letting the words settle between us before adding with a wry smile, "You saw it, didn't you?" Madeleine smiled, her gaze softening, perhaps a little more intrigued. She played with a lock of her hair, thoughtful.“It’s true… And it’s fascinating to see you in action, if I may say so, my darling.” She laughed. Without another word, I rose gently, leaving the crumpled sheets, and, silently, I slipped away into the night. Soon, Daoud would come. And I, too, would have my dose of abandonment before the sun rose. A few moments later, when I had reached my room, enjoying the cool of the night before dawn came to dissipate the last vestiges of shadow, I heard a slight rustle. The curtain of the bay window barely shuddered, caressed by an imperceptible breath. Then, he entered. Like a fluid shadow, an elusive mirage, he crossed the threshold with that silent ease that was his, gliding into my room without his steps betraying the slightest hesitation. And once again, as always, as the very first time, he dazzled me. For a moment, I was struck by the perfection of this nocturnal apparition, by the burning radiance that emanated from him, blending power and grace in perfect balance. His skin, matte and smooth, seemed to absorb the diffuse light, outlining the chiseled contours of his torso, the powerful curve of his shoulders, the suppleness of his stomach. His eyes, unfathomably black, shone with a familiar intensity, the kind that had the power to make me forget everything else, to erase Madeleine, Peter, Karim, Younes, the whole world… A shiver, pure and burning, ran down my spine, and without a word, without a gesture, I knew that I was going to satisfy him. Daoud approached silently, without hesitation, his gaze fixed on mine, imbued with that quiet assurance that had always troubled me. He came right up against me, and in a gesture as tender as it was unexpected, he placed his lips on mine. A light kiss, almost furtive, but charged with that contained warmth, that raw sweetness that was his. Then, without a word, without a smile, he moved away slightly, beginning to undress, with that disarming simplicity that he had in each of his gestures. He took off his wide, dusty linen sarouel pants, gradually revealing the supple, sinewy muscles of his legs, his smooth, brown skin.His top, a simple, light djellaba, slid over his shoulders, revealing a powerful but not excessive torso, a perfect architecture of muscles shaped by labor and the sun. He wasn't in a hurry. He wasn't playing. He revealed himself with the greatest simplicity, as if nudity were for him a natural, obvious, almost banal state. But for me, this vision was anything but banal. When he found himself completely naked, he stood up, his silhouette standing out in the diffuse light filtering through the window. And there, my gaze was immediately drawn to what could not escape me. His virility was already standing out, powerful, undeniable, a testament to his raw desire, to that ardor that was just waiting to be expressed. There was nothing hesitant about him, nothing fragile. He was there, facing me, strong in his triumphant masculinity, strong in this role of man that he was going to play, and that he had always played with an indomitable intensity. Then, in a silence laden with promise, he advanced towards me, his erection proudly pointi ...

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