Chapter Two

Rostam staggered forward, and his unfocused eyes dragged across Tahmineh's body. She could tell he found her beautiful, and that knowledge exhilarated her. Unconsciously, she pulled a braid forward and started stroking it, while smiling up at the giant before her.

"What is your name? And whatever could you be doing in my chamber so late at night?" He continued to move toward her, like a predator stalking his prey, though unsteadily.

"My name is Tahmineh, and I am the daughter of the king. I have heard the stories of your ferocity, and the battles you have single-handedly won. I know of the fear that makes warriors quake when they hear your name, and when I listen to such talk, I long to see you, and desire overcomes me. If you find me pleasing, I am yours tonight."

"Can you help me find my horse?"

This question was unexpected.

"Uh, of course," she stammered. "As the daughter of the king, all of Samangan must yield to me. You will have your horse, the great Rahksh."

At the realization that she knew also his beloved horse's name, he smiled arrogantly. He had reached Tahmineh by this point, and leaned down and kissed her. It was not the gentle kiss she had anticipated, but she was still enthralled by it. She was kissing Rostam! Well, not so much kissing him, as having her face enveloped by his mouth. But this was Rostam, and she was sure it was less pleasant for her because she was doing something wrong, due to her lack of experience. 

Rostam took her hand, and she felt a thrill of anticipation.  Tahmineh expected him to make some romantic gesture, like perhaps kiss it, or pull her arms around him so they could be closer. Instead, he placed her hand over his salwar on his engorged member, and rubbed it.

"You like that, don't you," he murmured.  Tahmineh noted that he was looking down at himself, and she wasn't convinced he was actually talking to her. Nevertheless, she was still eager to impress him.

"Yes," she whispered, though she felt the falseness of it. What she liked was being alone with a living legend, receiving his attention. 

At this point, Rostam looked up at her and nodded. He was still holding her hand against himself. She wondered if this was typical, and what she was supposed to do next. Tahmineh thought the most seductive thing to do would be to disrobe, so she reclaimed her hand and attempted to maintain eye contact as she removed her clothes. Once she was naked, she draped herself across Rostam's bed. Trying to look suggestive, she smiled coyly at him.

This was apparently all the invitation the famous hero needed. He undid his salwar and pulled out his manhood. He got on top of the virgin, and shoved himself inside her.

"Oh!" She knew it might hurt, but she didn't expect this. His clothes were still on, and he reeked of alcohol and sweat. She had thought he would be gentle, or at least also unclothed, and would take the time to prepare her. Tahmineh was tense from pain, but tried to focus on the excitement she had felt in anticipation, an excitement that was quickly waning.

As he was rutting, he growled, "I am Rostam. I am the mightiest warrior alive!" All his enormous weight was crushing Tahmineh, and his sweat was dripping in her eye. All the allure of being with this man had vanished, and she just wanted it to be over.  Thankfully, it wasn't long before it was, and he rolled off her and began snoring.

It was at this moment that he made his first tender gesture. He sighed, smacked his lips a few times, pulled her to him in an embrace, and resumed snoring. She was mortified. Nothing about that experience had been anything like she had fantasized. The young woman tried to curb her disappointment and go to sleep, but her mind wouldn't shut down. It kept bouncing back and forth between wondering what she had done wrong and her newly born revulsion of Rostam.

Eventually, the sky began to glow, and she attempted to move the dead weight of his massive arm so she could slip out of his room. What she accomplished was rousing him. He blinked several times to focus, and a huge, affectionate smile spread across his face. This was confusing.

Tahmineh stood and started getting dressed. "How is your head?"

"It's been better," Rostam conceded, but he still maintained a jovial countenance. "I think I would not have a headache had I not been kept up all night long by a beautiful woman." And then he winked.

Now she was really confused. By no means had he been kept up all night. Their entire encounter had been blessedly brief. Peering at him from the corner of her eye, and trying not to sound too bitter, she said, "You enjoyed yourself then?"

Rostam was sitting on the edge of the bed now and pulled her into his lap. "I did. And I could tell you did, too." He smiled roguishly.

It took everything Tahmineh had to keep her face from revealing her astonishment, and from laughing. In this moment, she realized he wasn't a brute, he was just so accustomed to women falling over themselves to please him - including herself- that he had no concept of what it must be like to make any effort to please them. She realized that in his wake he hadn't left a sea of broken hearts, but of horribly unsatisfied women. 

She wiggled out of his arms and finished getting dressed. Then the daughter of the king went to the door and summoned a servant, spoke briefly to her, and returned to Rostam.

"Your horse is being brought to you. Good day." She turned to leave, but not before noticing his face visibly brightening at the mention of Rahksh.

"Tahmineh, I have a gift for the son I have placed in your belly." Her back was to him, so she rolled her eyes. Of course he had impregnated her, and of course it was a son. Arranging a pleasant expression, she turned to him. He was unfastening a clasp from his upper arm.

"Have our son wear this on his arm as a sign of who his father is. He will be robust and vigorous." At this pronouncement, he placed the clasp in her hand and kissed the top of her head. She smiled weakly at him, touched by his belated devotion, but eager to be away from him.

When Tahmineh entered her own quarters, she heard the deep and delighted voice of Rostam outside reuniting with his beloved steed. I knew he like his horse, but I don't think the stories do justice to just how much he does.

A month later, her belly was already swelling with the child of the Persian champion.