Cairo

"Well..." Said Ahmed, with a shrug, "For such a princely sum, I would surely wish to examine the suite before recommending it to my friends. Is it available for viewing?"

The clerk glanced away briefly, "Sadly no." He said, "It is presently occupied by a Ms. Roberts, a wealthy American woman."

"Oh...that IS a shame." Said Ahmed, thinking the hotel's security was in desperate need of repair. "Will this...Ms. Roberts be staying long then? Perhaps I might return when the suite is unoccupied."

Again the clerk glanced away toward his computer screen and typed a flurry of keystrokes into his keyboard. "The suite will be available for viewing...on Thursday...two days from now. Perhaps you might return then, and we will be happy to show you the suite."

"Thursday..." Said Ahmed slowly as if weighing it carefully, "That might actually be perfect...perhaps I WILL return then to have a look."

The clerk smiled broadly and nodded, "Yes sir...we look forward to the opportunity."

Ahmed turned away and took two steps before pausing. "Oh...just one more thing..." He said, turning around. "A thought just occurred to me and I'm curious...this American woman...this Ms. Roberts..."

"Yes?" Said the clerk, tilting his head inquisitively.

"She would not be, by any chance, a Mrs. KAREN Roberts, would she?" He asked, "From California?"

The clerk glanced at the computer screen and shook his head, "No sir...I'm sorry. This is a Ms. Lillian Roberts...from New York City."

"Ah..." Said Ahmed, turning away, "I thought perhaps...Well...thank you very much."

He seated himself in one of the opulent sofas and absently watched the hotel guests parading their decadent elegance. So...he thought, so pleased with himself for securing so much intimate information about the woman so easily, the filthy slut has a name, Lillian Roberts. He smiled thinly, thinking the name Lillian seemed to suit her.

His reverie was interrupted a moment later as two burly men in the uniform of security guards stepped in front of him.

"Excuse me, sir." Said one of the men, bending low and speaking very discreetly in a soft voice, "But these sofas and chairs are provided explicitly for the comfort of our hotel guests.

Ahmed stood quickly, his face darkening with rage and embarrassment. "As you wish," He said, trying to keep his voice from betraying his inner turmoil, "I was merely sitting for a brief moment to collect my thoughts."

The guards nodded to one another knowingly, as if they had heard that particular excuse many times before.

Ahmed exited the building, nodding gruffly to the doorman, and stood on the sidewalk, lighting up a cigarette. He breathed deeply, shaking his head in anger and humiliation. "That fucking...American...cow." He muttered, somehow managing to shift the blame for his embarrassment to her. After all...if it hadn't been for HER, he would have completed his mission in an exemplary manner, and NOT been treated with so much disrespect buy lowly hotel employees.

He glanced toward the bellman, what was that stupid name she had called him?...Tiki...Taki...Toki? Some such Anglicized nickname nonsense. He watched the bellman as he strode about performing his subservient duties, bowing and scraping to all of the rich infidels as if his menial tedium was the most important thing in his lowly existence. The more he watched, the more he began to detest the bellman, Tiki...Taki...whatever the fuck his name was.

Ahmed watched as a taxi pulled to the curb and the bellman opened the door, holding his hand out to the elderly woman inside, who literally dripped jewelry and displayed a disgusting amount of wrinkled décolletage as she bent over to exit the taxi. What a meaningless existence, he thought to himself, shaking his head in disgust; this excrement of a man, simpering and fawning over such infidels.

The bellman appeared to be rather young, perhaps only in his teens, slight of build and clean shaven. A disgusting example of Arabic manhood, thought Ahmed, who should right NOW be a proud member of one of the Jihadist organizations instead of performing such lowly tasks that befitted only a mere woman.

Yes, thought Ahmed as he watched the bellman, one might very easily describe him as womanly with such a clean shaven face and such a slender, effeminate physique. He spat onto the sidewalk in disgust, thinking he had never in his life been so completely repulsed by another man.

He crossed the street and returned to his seedy hotel room in an ill humor. He flopped onto the bed and crossed his arms over his chest, fuming all over again at the day's unfortunate events. Despite his simmering anger, he drifted of into an uneasy sleep.

He awoke several hours later, sitting up and shaking off his lethargy. He stepped into the bathroom and splashed cold water onto his face. He returned to the room and switched on the television, rapidly flicking through the channels before switching the set off with a groan of disgust. He switched off the lamp, plunging his room into darkness and took up his chair in front of the window.

Picking up the binoculars, he aimlessly scanned the crowds below and hoping to somehow find a way to assuage his boredom. He espied the bellman below and grimaced to see him fawning over yet ANOTHER couple who were stepping into a cab.

Shaking his head in disgust, he turned his eyes and his thoughts away. Raising his glasses to the penthouse suite, he was startled to discover the lights on. The woman was nowhere to be seen, and he took the opportunity to scan the opulence of the suite, sighing appreciatively at the decadent splendor of the room and, once again wondering to himself how such a slut of a woman could afford, yet alone deserve, such luxury.

He gasped in surprise to see the woman suddenly appear, entering the room from the back room that he assumed was the bath. "Well, well, well..." He muttered to himself, "There you ARE, you fucking cunt of a whore. What are you up to now?"

He watched as she removed her jacket and hung it into the closet. She must have just arrived from wherever she had gone earlier, he surmised, turning the wheel to bring her into sharper focus. She walked to a dressing table and leaned forward, bringing her face close to the mirror. She smoothed her brows, seemingly examining her reflection for several moments before rising up, and reached behind her neck, to unfasten the top of her dress. She reached behind her back and lowered the long zipper, letting the dress fall away to the floor.

Ahmed smiled and licked his lips to see her in her decadently sexy underthings once more, watching as she stepped out of her dress and then bent over to retrieve it from whence it lay. She walked to the closet, hanging her dress with care, and then removed her rather strange looking brassiere. Her heavy breasts fell away and Ahmed smiled, almost wolfishly. Only in America, he thought, would a woman have such decadently huge mammaries.

* * * * *

Lillian sighed pleasurably in self-satisfaction and slipped into her silk robe, enjoying the sensual feel of the material against her skin. She thought, fleetingly, to remove her garterbelt and hosiery, but rather liked the sensually provocative way it made her feel and decided against it for the time being. Recalling the intense orgasm she had experienced earlier, she smiled, wanting very much keep her senses stimulated as a teasing prelude to a long, sensual repeat performance that she knew would happen later on, at the right moment.

She felt especially buoyant, her dinner meeting had gone exceptionally well, better than she, or her company executives, had ever expected, and she was elated, almost giddy with self-satisfaction. She smiled to imagine how her superiors in New York would be totally falling all over themselves when they heard the news, and her smile widened in anticipation of the rather large signing bonus that she knew would soon be forthcoming for her efforts.

She crossed the room and picked up the phone, ordering a bottle of champagne to celebrate her success. She switched on the television and watched CNN for several minutes until the knock on her door. She opened the door and the porter strode inside wheeling a small cart that carried an ornate, sterling silver champagne bucket filled with crushed ice, a bottle of the hotel's finest champagne and an elegantly designed, crystal champagne flute. The porter skillfully opened the bottle for her and then graciously accepted her rather large tip with a surprised raise of his eyebrows and an effusive thank you, bowing at the waist.

She poured herself a large glass of champagne and toasted her reflection in the mirror before settling once more on the sofa to catch the latest news.

* * * * *

Ahmed shook his head again and muttered in disgust to see how greedily his fellow Arab accepted the whore's money. The woman watched television for quite some time, reclined on the sofa with her legs curled beneath her. That the oafish whore soiled the expensive sofa with her decadently high-heeled shoes was something that Ahmed did not fail to notice. After a while he became bored watching her do nothing but wallow in expensive luxury and swill her champagne. He began to explore some of the other hotel rooms that were lit.

Finding nothing exceptionally entertaining elsewhere, he returned his gaze to the penthouse once more, just in time to see the woman drain the last from her champagne bottle into her glass and settle once more onto the sofa. This time though, as she once again curled her legs beneath her, she carelessly allowed her robe to fall away and expose much of her legs. Ahmed smiled and licked his lips once more to see the woman's exceptional legs glistening in the lamplight.

* * * * *

Lillian drained the last of her champagne with a flourish, setting aside the empty glass and switching off the television. She burped loudly and smiled to herself with her fingertips over her lips, feeling the effects of the champagne softening the sharpness of her consciousness. Absently she stroked her leg, smiling at the wonderful sensation of her sleek stockings and felt the beginnings of an arousal in the pit of her stomach.

She raised her hand and parted the belt tied about her waist, slipping her hand inside her robe to caress her breast. She lightly pinched her nipple, pulling gently until it became fully erect and then rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. She closed her eyes and sighed as ripples of pleasure coursed through her body.

* * * * *

Ahmed cursed, feeling his traitorous member rising for the second time that day. He watched, in abject fascination, as the woman touched herself, moving her hands over her body with wanton sensuality that Ahmed knew would be a prelude to much more. At least, he thought, he now had the luxury of giving the woman's scandalous performance his entire attention without the responsibility of needing his full attention elsewhere.

* * * * *

Lillian laid her head back on the sofa cushions, enjoying the slow sensual tease of arousal and sighing appreciatively. She turned her head and smiled to see the empty champagne bottle protruding from the silver bucket. In her somewhat heightened state of arousal, it was not difficult at all to notice how sensually the neck of the bottle flared and how deliciously phallic the delicately curved, bulbous tip of the bottle appeared to be. She bit her lip and laughed softly as visions of yet unexplored fantasies played across her consciousness.

* * * * *

What in the name of Allah was THIS? Ahmed shook his head in confusion as he watched the woman reach out and take the empty champagne bottle from the bucket. She seemed to be laughing to herself, stroking the neck of the bottle with her fingers and rubbing it against her cheek almost lovingly. To his complete astonishment the woman opened her robe and began to rub the bottle over her breasts. What supreme madness, he thought. Is the woman so completely besotted with alcohol that she has lost her senses? He watched in complete fascination as she moved the tip of the bottle back and forth over each of her breasts for several minutes, her head back against the sofa cushion and her eyes closed. As realization finally struck him, he gasped aloud in complete astonishment. By all that was holy...this slut-whore, pig of a woman was actually arousing herself sexually with the champagne bottle. He wanted desperately to look away, to forget he ever witnesses such complete and utter debauchery, but he was completely helpless and could not take his eyes from the woman. And, try as he might, he could not still the rising tide of arousal within himself as his traitorous member rose to aching tumescence.

* * * * *

Lillian pulled open her robe and moaned softly as the cool bottle touched her engorged nipple. She sighed pleasurably and played the cool glass back and forth from one nipple to the other and felt her arousal rising dramatically. She rolled the cool, smooth glass over her stomach and allowed the tip of the bottle to probe between her legs, shivering at the exquisite sensation. She moaned softly and parted her legs, sliding the tip of the bottle down and over her vulva.

"Ooooh," She sighed appreciatively, lifting her hips to the bottle and rocking her pelvis. My god, she thought, what an amazing sensuality. She slipped the tip of the bottle under the waistband of her panties, shivering delightedly to feel the cool class against her skin. She lifted her knees and rocked her pelvis up, stroking herself with the bottle, feeling the sleek, tapered neck split her lips and become slick with the lubrication from her pussy. She pressed her thighs together and held the bottle in place, rolling onto her side and rocking her pelvis slowly forward and back, moaning softly at the exquisite sensations created between her legs.

With a laugh, she suddenly sat up and pulled the bottle away. She laughed again, tossing her head. "Jesus..." She said aloud, turning to catch her reflection in the mirror, "I am such a slut sometimes."

Feeling an uncomfortable pressure in her bladder, she stood and made her way to the bathroom, her legs wobbling slightly from the effects of the champagne. She relieved herself and washed her hands, making her way back into the living room area with her robe untied and flowing behind her as she walked.

She paused in front of the sofa and looked down at the bottle. God, she thought, it really DID look extremely phallic. She bit her lip and smiled as her fantasies began to take her away once more.

* * * * *

Whew, thought Ahmed, as the woman disappeared into the bathroom, he had narrowly escaped soiling his caftan for the second time that day while watching the woman writhing on the sofa with the bottle between her legs. By all that was holy, he had never seen anything so completely seductive and sensual in all his life. He licked his lips, trying desperately to will his erection away with a conscious effort. He sighed, feeling the tension begin to slowly ebb from his body and the urgency of his erection began to fade, just as the woman re-entered the room.

He stared in fascination to see her body so exposed, her huge breasts bouncing so erotically, her wide fleshy hips swaying so alluringly. She paused in front of the sofa, just standing there motionless for several moments. Then, to his surprise, she suddenly shrugged off her robe and let if fall to the floor at her feet. She moved her hands over her body, from her thighs to her breasts, seemingly teasing herself with her touches. Ahmed cursed vehemently as he felt a renewed urgency between his legs and watched as the woman slowly slid her panties down, over her hips, and stepped from them as they fell to the floor.

She seemed to lean forward, bracing herself with her knees on the front of the sofa as she slid her hands between her legs. Ahmed watched in incredulity as she tossed her head, looking up at the ceiling as her hips gyrated.

All at once she lowered herself, kneeling onto the sofa and bending forward, her heavy breasts billowing over the cushions at the back. To his gasping astonishment he watched as she grasped the bottle and placed it between her legs.

* * * * *

Lillian gasped and cried aloud as the bulbous tip of the bottle parted her lips and slid into her pussy. She felt her facial muscles twitching uncontrollably and gasped at the exquisite sensations. With another cry of pleasure she lowered her hips onto the bottle.

"Oh, GOD." She gasped, moving her hips slowly and feeling the cool glass moving deep inside her. She lowered her hips further, taking more of the bottle and feeling her lips spreading wider as the flare of the bottle parted her more and more. She moaned, feeling the beginnings of orgasm starting to swell, and began moving her hips rapidly in anticipation of her deliciously sweet release.

* * * * *

A long whine escaped Ahmed's lips. Never even in his wildest imaginings had he even come close to even IMAGINING such sexual decadence. His testicles throbbed painfully and he realized he had pushed himself beyond the point of no stopping.

He grasped his member and began stroking rapidly, wanting to bring on his pleasurable release quickly to still the rising ache in his testicles. But suddenly he started with surprise to see the woman suddenly bolt from the sofa with startled, almost frantic, movements. The bottle fell from her and rolled to the back of the sofa as the woman bent to hurriedly retrieve her robe from the floor.

Ahmed moaned softly, feeling the unrequited ache between his growing intensely.

* * * * *

Lillian's orgasm was almost upon her and she felt the rising ache in the pit of her stomach. She thrust her hips rapidly to send herself over the brink when suddenly she heard a loud knocking on her door.

"No!" She gasped, holding herself completely still, wondering if she could have possibly been mistaken. The second knock on her door was louder and more insistent, startling her completely from her reverie. She leapt from the sofa, the bottle falling over onto its side, and hurriedly gathering up her robe.

"Who on earth?" She thought to herself, looking hurriedly at her wristwatch as she made her way to the door, pulling the robe about her.

She glanced quickly through the security peephole to see the smiling countenance of the bellboy Taki, his cheerful face roundly distorted by the fisheye effect of the lens. She leaned against the door and groaned silently, with a mental slap to her forehead. Of course, she thought, her dry-cleaning...she had completely forgotten that she had asked the service earlier to have her dry-cleaning sent to her room as soon as it arrived.

"Taki!" She greeted warmly as she opened the door.

"Ms. Roberts." He replied, grinning widely, "I have brought you your cleaned clothing myself, the porter was occupied elsewhere...and I know you wanted them right away."

Lillian smiled, thinking to herself that it was very likely Taki had taken it upon himself to not even notify the porter...wanting her usual hefty tip for himself. "Why thank you, Taki," She said graciously, "That's very sweet of you...You didn't have to go to all this trouble...please, come in."

Taki smiled and entered the room, closing the door behind him. "I assure you, it was no trouble at all. I have finished my work shift and was about to go home when your clothing arrived. It is no bother."

"You can just hang them there in the closet." She said, turning to take her wallet out of her purse. She gasped aloud when she opened her wallet and discovered she had nothing to give Taki; she had given the last of her expense money to the waiters in the dining room and forgotten to cash another traveler's cheque.

"Oh, god...honey...I'm so sorry." She said, turning back toward him and holding her empty wallet open, "But, I have no change at all."