The Anniversary Party
Version for “Tales of the Veils” website.
Not for reproduction on other websites or in any other publishing format without author’s permission.
“Do I look all right?”
Ahmed lifts his head and the vision in front of him causes him let the paper drop on the table. Nahal is wearing a floor long Arabic style dress in orange with golden edging and interleaved black and gold spots all over. She wears a gold necklace and bangles, her long black hair partly covered by a sheer matching orange scarf with embroidered gold across the forehead. Moving his gaze down her almond shaped eyes are enhanced and lined with black and her lips shine slightly purple. Her right hand seductively holds out a sheer matching veil pinned at the left, to let him see the entire face.
“Your appearance makes me want to stay here to be intimate with you right away, but Nasr and his wife are our best friends, so we’d better go and enjoy their party before enjoying each other close up. I know you love me, but you have primarily dressed up for the other women and not to seduce me.”
“I dress up because, for a party like this, it has to be something special. You can enjoy seeing me now and get your desires fulfilled when we get back, but you know just as well that if I dress up like this every night it won’t be as thrilling. I see you have put on the thobe that was newly washed and ironed meticulously and waiting for you on the hanger. Does it mean you are ready to leave? I have checked the time often while dressing, and when I’m ready, in a few minutes, we will have just the usual time for walking. Remember we must not be late, as we have to be there to start with doing the Maghrib salah together. But you should be dressed warm, it is not summer anymore and it will be late at night when the party finishes. I’d like to walk home as well.”
Nahal starts pinning her veil.
“I’d like to walk home too. There is nothing like fresh air and a little exercise after hours of eating what is very tasty food and not to keep a slim body. I am wearing a long-sleeved thermal shirt and boxer shorts beneath, and am ready to leave, or at least after enjoying watching you dress for public. Please get going. But why are you wearing a veil matching the dress? The women will be not only in a separate room but a separate apartment. And even though the veil only gives a hint of what is beneath, apart from over your eyes you wouldn’t wear something that is not completely opaque in front of men.”
Nahal squats to remove her golden sandals.
“During ordinary meetings we women often keep a veil over the lower face in case someone inadvertently opens the door, or it is possible to look in through the windows, sometimes not even removing it for eating and drinking. With this veil, although not entirely opaque, my face is not recognisable, but it’s still decorative. It will probably be unpinned during the main courses, but still I have something at hand in case something unexpected happens.”
In nylons Nahal has taken the shoes to the bedroom to put them in a plastic bag. On the bed her usual black clothing is spread out. Ahmed stops in the doorway. Nahal takes some safety pins from the bedside table and stretches her hand towards Ahmed.
“Please place two pins on the back of my dress when I lift the hem.”
She makes the dress fold to lift the hem to her knees. Ahmed fastens the pins and steps back to the doorway. Nahal then takes another two pins and fastens them at the front of the dress, and sits down. She starts dressing by putting on a pair of black opaque knee long stockings. Next she puts on her normal black laced shoes. Ahmed is a little surprised when Nahal takes a pair of elbow long thin black gloves and starts pulling them on top of the abaya sleeves.
“They are more decorative than your usual gloves, but are you sure they are sufficiently opaque?”
“I’m going to wear two sets of gloves today. These are to ensure the colourful sleeves don’t slip out of the shorter gloves and slide down to be seen. With my usual black abayas the edge of a sleeve being seen doesn’t matter.”
Next she dons a normal black abaya that completely covers the beautiful orange, because the hem of the orange dress has been lifted, its neck opening is cut much wider and Ahmed notices this black abaya has sleeves reaching the fingertips and even thumb straps. In his mind Nahal’s current appearance takes him to a Muslim fashion show. The orange head covering, pieces of the gold necklace still to be seen, both with a plain but nice black abaya, looks like a combination that a designer of Muslim fashion would put on the catwalk to attract attention to a dress that otherwise is little different from black abayas in general. Luckily those buying the designer abaya know this combination is not for normal use. No outer items should be attractive. Nahal is a wonderful truly believing woman who normally wears only dark modest colours, even at home. The flashy head is about to disappear as Nahal is tying her usual head scarves on top of the sheer orange. A black forehead scarf covers even her eyebrows then she winds a large scarf around her head and neck, to leave only a pair of eyes shining in anticipation of the party, and an orange width from her eyes to the chest. Nahal holds up the next item to be put on, making Ahmed step toward her.
“Have a real enjoyable evening dear husband. I’m glad the party is set to end just after the Isha. Then we won’t be too tired when I remove this veil for you after coming home again.”
Ahmed is now to enjoy the beautiful soft lips saying this because Nahal has lifted the veil for them to exchange a good evening kiss. Their lips meeting reminds Ahmed that the bed is not designed as a place for spreading clothes. Nahal gives him a loving smile and points to a pack of paper towels while letting the veil go. She puts the hand holding the large black ball gag up under the veil, while Ahmed cleans his lips in front of the mirror to remove any lipstick stains. After buckling the ball gag, a rather thick black scarf is tied over the lower face, leaving an eye slit so thin that the eyes seem to be covered. Nahal has explained to him she wears this in case something, or someone, would tear her outer veil off, and further it reduces sound coming from the nose. Upon seeing her caring for her own protection and modesty, Ahmed’s love for her takes a leap. The black scarf pulls the orange veil under the chin, but a snip is still visible.
“An orange snip is visible. I think you should get it inside your black safety scarf.”
Nahal goes to the mirror and apparently decides Ahmed is right because she unties the lower tie of the black scarf, makes a fold on the orange veil and holds it to her chin. Ahmed lends a hand to hold the black scarf under her chin, holding the orange as well, until Nahal has made the tie again. Ahmed is glad he warned her about the snip, because next is the khimar, which doesn’t reach out to the chin, and perhaps the orange veil is delicate enough to squeeze through the khimar zipper. The khimar reaches to the knees to hide especially the hands and arms. All her limbs are now covered by loose garments that don’t reveal any shape, and her head, except for the slit needed for vision, shows black fabric only. Ahmed would be proud walking with Nahal at his side like this, but Nahal always wear a niqab outermost. It makes her appear like most strict Muslims and it has a semi-transparent layer to cover even the eye slit. Lastly Nahal pulls on her gloves which easily slip on, being held in place by a wide elastic band around the wrist. They are very impractical, being designed for skiing, but the liner can be removed, which means they are not as hot as they look. As always Nahal had good reason for choosing these gloves. Most ladies skin gloves are made to accentuate a feminine hand and as such are not suitable for her. But these are black, opaque and, if the wearer is anywhere between sixteen and sixty, hides the hands, is how she puts it. Besides she mostly needs to be able to point and hold bags, as she never ventures out alone, always having someone to use the hands in a more delicate way, such as when paying. Nahal takes her handbag and the bag with her shoes in her left hand and then turns off the bedroom light. In the fading afternoon light the apartment is now too dark for Nahal’s veiled eyes to see more than contours. But she has told Ahmed she prefers to trail his white back to the front door, rather than flipping the eye layer back for the short distance, because as it is it gets brighter coming out, instead of seeing a sunny sky from the doorway to walk out in a darker world. Ahmed takes the plastic bag he has placed right next to the front door so as not to forget it. When he turns outside to lock the door Nahal has apparently seen the bag, as she taps it from inside her khimar.
“It is some funny gags to contribute to the entertainment and bring up the mood. Should I carry your shoes as well?”
Nahal shakes her head and starts walking down the tiles.
It’s a wonderful sunny afternoon, but it is one of the first days where the chilly wind makes it clear autumn has come. Nahal was right asking about his inner clothes. They visit Nasr or vice versa at least once a week, so it’s a familiar fifteen minutes walk, and Ahmed takes a look at his watch to confirm they will arrive some ten minutes before prayer time, which is about what is needed for Nahal to get out of her black coverings, say hello and wash. The first people they meet are some of their neighbours used to seeing the oddly dressed couple, and several nod back when Ahmed nods to everyone staring at them. The next part is a walk and cycle path on a closed railway line. This is of course the part they both like the most. Nature is developing freely on both sides, the noise of the streets is just a faint hiss and the air feels fresher. Except for joggers, people who choose the old railway line are not in a hurry. Many stop on seeing them, and the joggers look like their interval of running ends just here. Ahmed always smiles and nods. Few get angry, showing they think foreigners should just mind their own business, but many do not notice him at all, staring intensely at Nahal only. A white thobe is just as rare a sight as black veiling, but as with western style dressed people, the women get all the attention. Neither of them mind, both are proud to show the unbelievers that the clothing clearly shows who is male and who is female, and the that a woman keeps everything about herself private and doesn’t display anything that may excite men. When Ahmed sees a woman pulling down at her skirt or pulling the jacket close or do up a chest button he counts one more soul helped a little in the right direction. Men are affected as well, only rarely whistling or turning the head staring if a pretty young woman passes while Nahal and he are around. Nahal often asks about his observations while they are having tea after a walk because, despite the fact no one can see if she is staring if not directly turning her head, the more people there are the lower is her head. She claims to never deliberately look at a male face, and as her choice of covering is entirely her own, Ahmed believes her.
They turn away from the old railway path into a suburban shopping street, Nahal confirming her modesty by lowering her head a bit more. It is the centre of an old village swallowed by the expanding city a century ago, but it has made the shops cluster here, there is a church on the opposite side, and they pass the post office and the local social security office, which Ahmed hated a few years ago. It’s Saturday and after the peak of shopping. There are more people here than on the footpath, but fewer notice them, being focused on getting the shopping done and getting home to enjoy the weekend. Those just browsing windows to have something to do while enjoying a walk in the sun forget the windows when spotting them. Ahmed especially enjoys watching those staring in two steps. First they see a woman completely swathed in black and visibly stare. Then they discover absolutely nothing of the face shows, making them stare even more. There is even on rare occasions a third step, where the person tilts the head to get a lower view point because Nahal faces down. The last leg of the trip goes into the quarter of the city where most people are of foreign origin. Here they are often greeted before Ahmed acts. People wearing non-Western clothing are a common sight, especially women in long coats and headscarves, but unfortunately veiled faces are few. Not unexpectedly, just as they reach the parking lot outside the apartment building where Nasr lives, Farid gets out of his car and the car of Sohail stops at its side. Ahmed stops to wait as he is closer to the door, but when Farid doesn’t approach he walks to him.
“Hi Ahmed. Shiny white for the party? What do you think about my new ghutra?”
A black shape has emerged from the back door just behind Farid.
“Black contrasts white beautifully, and yours is just my taste, I don’t like the checkered ghutras.”
Farid’s wife, now directly facing Ahmed, explains why Farid hasn’t moved. Her face veiling is completely opaque and blinding and she has not perceived where Ahmed is standing. Farid makes her bow her head and guides her far enough away from the car to push the door closed and activate the lock. Farid having his wife to attend to makes Ahmed approach Sohail. Sohail waves until getting a wave from Farid and a smile and a nod from Ahmed, but then he turns to open the back door. Ahmed turns away to walk with Nahal to the door of the building, where he waits to greet Sohail. His wife is dressed just like Nahal, but the way she walks and the close guiding of Sohail, show there must be an opaque layer over her eyes beneath the niqab.
“Hi Ahmed, let’s wait to embrace until after my black parcel is delivered.”
“Sohail you may even kiss me as we are immediately going to wash for prayers.” The men all burst out in laughter, Ahmed senses Nahal laugh and Sohail’s wife makes a short visible break in her slow forward motion.
The apartments of Nasr occupy the second floor. The elevator is an important reason for Nasr choosing to buy these apartments. On an extra sign next to the ‘2’ button is the company name in Arabic and below it just reads ‘www.UK-MiddleEast.com’, which is one reason for partying tonight. Ahmed is not sure today is the exact date or that it happened like Nasr tells the story, but he claims that on the day of their second wedding anniversary, a year ago, he talked with his wife about how to spend more time together, and the only way to do this was working at the same place. With a wife keeping strict purdah the solution was to start a mail order company on the internet, where part of the work can be done at a computer in private. They started out offering UK canned or vacuum packed regional food specials that many have learned to like while studying, to countries in the Middle East. But communicating in Arabic soon made customers request all sorts of articles, and sometimes just wanting Nasr to mediate a deal with a company in the UK. It was quite a success, but due to some customers ordering a list of items from different suppliers, their apartment soon turned into a storeroom. When the adjoining apartment went on sale six months ago Nasr bought it to be the company premises. With only a few apartments above and most people using the elevator, his wife can move the ten feet between the apartment doors on her own by just fitting a niqab with elastic or velcro. So today they have come to celebrate the third wedding anniversary and the first year of the mail order business, and for such a party with sex segregation, the two apartments are ideal. The men have the apartment where they live, with Nasr handling the kitchen for the men, but of course everything is as ready as can be, and he has been instructed exactly what to do. The women have the business apartment, probably with the office furniture moved away somehow. Coming out of the elevator the men can safely leave it to Nahal to guide the other two women into one apartment, while directly entering the other. In case of problems during the evening the other part is close by, and when leaving meeting the women is immediate and without problems. The men all laugh when Nasr answers the door wearing a pair of oven mittens.
Praying the Maghrib with his best friends is just sheer joy.
Then they seat at the dining table. They are to drink original cherry-colas in original glass bottles. Ahmed hides the bottle opener between some magazines. When Nasr looks for it Ahmed is ready to lend a helping hand. Apparently with just his fingers he easily opens the four bottles. His three friends gaze truly amazed. Then he pulls the bottle opener ring off his finger and holds it up for all to see. A burst of laughter show his first funny gag is successful.
They praise each course loudly, in jest assigning the quality and good taste to Nasr’s well-known skills as chef.
Later, after the main course, Sohail, sitting next to Ahmed, makes a wonderful and funny speech about how they are not only brothers in faith, but in about everything else. He ends it by asking them to stand up to make a toast for their brotherhood to last forever. It is completely quiet while they drink. As he sits again a sound comes from Sohail as if he has had too much delicious food. Sohail looks puzzled while the other three burst out in laughter, and then congratulate him for the speech. Meanwhile Sohail has sensed the whoopie cushion, and holding it up creates more laughter while they all look at Ahmed.
The evening passes extremely fast as the friends eat, laugh and drink.
They suddenly have to wash quickly and start the Isha prayer, which gets a minute shorter than usual as the clock strikes for midnight. The party could have continued for hours, but they have agreed on ending at Isha, and there is no better way to end a wonderful night than being united in their faith. Nasr phones the other apartment to learn their wives are ready. Of course they have put on most of their modest black covering before salah to appear appropriate. The men embrace and walk out on the landing. Ahmed sees three black shells, sure each contains a pearl, are waiting head down. On hearing the men one lifts her head and steps to his side. Nahal has chosen not to follow her sisters in walking blind this time. Farid seems unsure who to guide into the elevator, but Sohail, recognising his wife, solves the problem. During the ride down Sohail and Farid both offer to take them home, but a pat at his side makes Ahmed turn his head to see Nahal shaking her bowed head, and he politely declines. Of course the men have to bid each other goodnight once more at the cars, but eventually Ahmed is able to join Nahal waiting on the footpath some ten yards away. With parts of the path between lamps with very little light, Nahal, with her veiled eyes, is reluctant to move without him at her side. As the sound of his friends cars fade it becomes a quiet, cool clear night, nice for a walk if keeping the pace up. But within a minute, just under a lamp, Nahal stops. Ahmed turns to see a plastic bag appearing from under her khimar.
“Would you like me to carry your shoes? Will this allow you to walk faster?”
Nahal shakes her head and lets one handle of the bag go to let Ahmed have a look inside.
“Mail! I see, preparing for the party they had no time for the usual trip to the post office.”
“As you have your shoes to carry as well, I’d better take the mail. I have to post it anyway, as we can’t risk Nasr getting customer complaints if an envelope misses the box due to your thick gloves.”
Nahal nods again, and Ahmed takes the bag. The suburban streets are nearly completely quiet this late. Only a car passes now and then, and they reach the shopping street and the post office without meeting anyone. Now that he has not trusted Nahal’s clumsy fingers, of course he is very careful when putting the envelopes in the box, but soon he can check the bag is just as empty as it feels, and he folds the bag to put it with his reusable funny gags. Some loudly speaking teenage boys pass on the opposite site of the street, but they only try to keep it going among themselves, probably being too drunk and tired now to take notice of two strangely dressed people on the other side. The railroad path is again the best part. It is well lit, completely quiet and deserted. Almost. A male cyclist passes with no lights on. It looks like someone sensible enough not to drive his car, but not used to cycling at this hour, thus having forgot his lights. Ahmed really feels refreshed when they walk up the tiles and gets in an even better mood at remembering what is going to happen once inside.
He only turns on the light just inside the front door. He puts his bag in the wardrobe and reaches to get Nahal’s bags and put them there as well. He then guides Nahal into the living room, which is only lit from the other end of the corridor. He leaves her in the middle of the floor and walks to turn on the floor lamp in the far corner next to the sofa before going to the kitchen to return with a cold coke and a glass. He seats himself in the sofa facing Nahal and fills the glass. Nahal is still standing head down exactly as he left her.
Bump! A thick black glove hits the floor. For five seconds Ahmed hears the cola fizz. Then he hears the bump of the other glove. Elegantly the black entity squats to make the khimar spill on the floor all way round. After a little while the body straightens again, but the head remains down. The shoes appear in front of the abaya, and are one by one kicked to each side. Two still black gloved hands at the end of black sleeves lifts the khimar as they slowly reach behind the down turned head to untie the niqab. Slowly the niqab drops like a falling leaf, while the hands disappear under the khimar again. After a little interval suddenly the head is lifted and turns abruptly to directly face Ahmed. The body turns to make Nahal directly front him. Now she is able to see through the slit between her scarves, but he can’t see her eyes. From now on Nahal enjoys watching his expression while he enjoys her. He smiles and nods enthusiastically encouraging her to go on. The hands appear again to reach under the chin, only to disappear again moments later. The khimar starts flapping while slowly being lifted to hide her head. After flapping with fully stretched arms for some seconds, it is suddenly pulled forward while bowing to end as a pile of cloth in her lap. After pulling the hands out of the pile, a throw sends the khimar into the easy chair. The hands move behind the head again, and after some seconds, the lower edge of the thick black scarf is loosened to hang down, but the scarf is still tied across the nose, maintaining a black face with an unchanged eye slit. The hands, when taken down, are passing the tip of the chin to make an orange snip unfold on the chest. Ahmed gets a small reminder of the wonderful orange abaya. His expression shows that he likes what the snip implies, making Nahal slowly turn a full circle to delay the change from black to orange. Ahmed takes some large mouthfuls of cola while Nahal has her back to him. She unzips the black abaya at the back of the neck, and Ahmed clearly shows he expects to see the fantastic dress following. But to his immediate disappointment and increased excitement she sits down on the edge of the easy chair and starts removing her black stockings. They end on top of the khimar and Nahal moves to stand directly front Ahmed again. Slowly the black body turns orange, and Nahal, when taking a few steps to put the black abaya in the easy chair, attracts attention to her well formed lower legs in nylon, now clearly showing because the orange abaya is pinned up. Of course this is soon rectified as the legs were just another preview. Having put the safety pins on the coffee table Nahal takes a few steps back to again stand in the centre of the living room facing Ahmed. She holds up her black gloved forearms and at a slow pace pulls off each glove. Both gloves are thrown towards the easy chair, but both drop on the floor. For the next half a minute Nahal stands with arms at rest down her sides and nothing happens, except Ahmed has time to again admire the beautiful dress he knows is hiding an even more beautiful body. Why Nahal takes this break is impossible to tell as her head still is covered in black. Are the nearly hidden eyes searching his face for signs that his mind should now have changed from admiring a modest respectable Muslim woman, demonstrating what each item contributes to her covering, turn into a beautiful desirable body which has to belong to his lovely wife, or the woman is a whore?
“Nahal my love, just show your eyes and I would be able to pick you out among a million young beautiful women.”
His request is granted. The hands are moved to the back of the head and soon the thick black lower face scarf drops to the floor, to be followed by the head and neck scarf and the forehead scarf. Nahal’s almond shaped windows to her soul are accentuated by being framed by golden embroidery above and delicate orange chiffon below. Her look goes straight to his heart. Nahal emphasises that it is now man and wife facing each other by holding up her right hand and waving the upturned index finger to invite Ahmed to come closer. Widely smiling he gets up accepting the invitation. He approaches Nahal with outstretched arms to start with an embrace, but she turns her back to him while pointing to the top of her back. She wants him to unzip the orange abaya right away, and he complies. Then she gestures him to lift it over the head and off without dropping it. Holding both arms to the same side she receives the dress from Ahmed standing behind to neatly fold it and place it over an arm rest. Then with a sudden turn she fronts Ahmed again, to surprise and excite him by showing as yet a different woman. He unzipped a woman dressed for a fashionable women-only party. He now stares at a sexy figure only meant for him. A golden corset top with black edges and black lacing lifts the breasts excitingly. Black garters hold the long black nylon stockings, which now emphasise in full the sexy long legs. In between is a triangle of golden fabric, placed there in the middle to focus the eyes and mind on where the fun is to be found. Ahmed cautiously and searching lets his hand approach from below the hem of the corset aiming to grab the rim of the panties to take a look at what the Creator has made just for him. A little surprisingly the orange veiled head nods to tell him go on. Quickly both his hands are up under the corset and in a few seconds the panties are down at the top of the stockings where the garters stop them. Ahmed gets a shock. A flat metal band covers her crotch. Nahal is wearing a chastity belt! Quickly a hand searches up under the hem of the corset to feel for the belt part around the waist and find a padlock. Nahal’s eyes shine with joy and she nods and claps her hands to express that she thinks this a wonderful new trick to make their sex life even more exciting. Ahmed gets a hunch.
“Is this something from the stock of Nasr?”
Nahal nods enthusiastically.
“It is very kind of him, or his wife, to assist us in getting a varied sex life. It works. I am now desperate to get release. Please fetch the key!”
Nahal’s eyes widen surprised and she points at Ahmed. This makes Ahmed look like a question mark.
“I didn’t get any key from Nasr. The subject of what would happen when coming home and seeing our wives in high spirits and attractive clothing never came up. Are you sure Nasr knows about this?”
Nahal desperately looks around, gesturing at writing.
“We both frequently like you to stay gagged until afterwards, but as we have a new play item let us hear if it makes you sound differently.”
Nahal shakes her head and points at the back of her head.
Ahmed goes behind her to find out that he never noticed when he unzipped the abaya, a small padlock which now secures the buckle of her ball gag. Ahmed heads for the door.
“I have to phone Nasr and make him tell me where the keys are, or to make him bring them over right away.”
A hand on his shoulder stops him, and he turns to see Nahal mime sleeping.
“It is late, but I don’t think they are sleeping. But you are right, interrupting their anniversary night would be even worse. What do we do?”
Nahal goes to the chamber and turns on the computer. When it becomes operative she opens the text editor.
‘I know it means we have to go to bed just to sleep, but tomorrow is Sunday and we can make up for our current frustration all day if we like. Now we must write a mail and send it to Nasr, Suhaya and the company mail, asking to phone us immediately and for the key to be delivered by car right after.’
Ahmed opens his mail account.
“There is a new mail from Nasr, sent just after midnight!”
‘Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hadad.
The UK – Middle East Company is pleased to inform you that the items you requested have just been mailed by us.
You posted them when walking home from our party. Thank you for a wonderful evening in both apartments.
Suhaya and Nasr.’
Ahmed turns his head to meet Nahal’s desperate look. Then he shouts.
“The mail isn’t delivered until Monday at noon! THIRTY SIX hours!”
Copyright © 2009, Bo_Emp ; bo_emp ‘at’ yahoo ‘dot’ com
Thanks to Nye North for proof reading.