Cairo

Lillian moved about the hotel suite with a quiet, relaxed grace, traversing the large room from the bed to the dresser several times, as she emptied her suitcase, which lay open on the bed. She went about her task methodically, with an accomplished ease and economy of movement that revealed her abundance of travel experience. She separated her clothing meticulously into separate drawers, lingerie in the top drawer, blouses and tops in the center with skirts and casual slacks in the bottom. When she finished, she closed her empty suitcase and stowed it away beneath the bed, and turned to the closet, where she unzipped her two garment bags and separated the hangers from which hung her more formal dresses and business suits. She took each hanger in turn and examined her clothing carefully, smoothing away any unsightly wrinkles.

She stood in the center of the room, hands on her hips, and surveyed her surroundings with her disciplined eye for detail. She smiled with satisfaction to see that everything appeared to be in perfect order, and glanced at her watch. Perfect, she thought, her smile broadening as the earliness of the hour afforded her the luxury of time enough to relax a while, and possibly even enjoy the wonderful looking Jacuzzi she had glimpsed earlier in the sumptuous bathroom facility.

She sighed heavily and twirled several times with her arms extended, a sense of almost giddy euphoria suffusing her as she basked in the opulence of her penthouse suite, the finest, and most luxuriant suite in the entire five-star hotel. Lillian laughed softly and reflected upon how wonderful it was to finally be able to travel in such luxury and style.

Such had not always been the case, far from it. As a young, fledgling entrepreneur, she had worked ever so many long and grueling hours, for more years than she cared to even recall, always flying economy coach and driving cheap rental cars, more often than not, grabbing quick, fast food meals on the run as she sped from one low-level business meeting to another and always seeking the more affordable accommodation of cheap motels or downtown flophouses.

She had managed to make a success of herself, and her own stockbrokerage consulting business, the hard way...she had EARNED it through sheer dogged determination, hard work and perseverance. When her company had been purchased and incorporated into a much larger, multinational organization, she could have easily retired and lived quite comfortably for the rest of her life with her multi-million dollar settlement and stock options. But, retirement had never been much of an option for her, as she loved the thrill and excitement of the business world. She applied for, and accepted, a managerial position within the new company and, as a traveling consultant, had spent the better part of the past year jetting around the world, to various exotic locations, chairing subsidiary board meetings and making presentations to the boards of other prospective companies.

More often than not, Lillian traveled alone. But, for her, alone did not constitute loneliness. While in social situations, she was openly affable and gregarious, making small talk and casual conversation easily, she was equally as comfortable with the solitude and council of her own thoughts. Although she very much enjoyed the company of men and had even found much pleasure in several semi-long termed relationships, Lillian had never married. She had discovered long ago that her ambition left little room for a husband and children, and, at the ripe old age of forty, and with STILL no great pangs of maternal instinct, accepted her unmarried and unattached status with philosophical aplomb.

She crossed the room to the full-length glass wall that looked out over the city. The lights of Cairo were just beginning to come on as the sun made its way into the horizon, and her vantage point high atop the Conrad Cairo Hotel afforded her a breathtaking view of the city below her and the nearby Nile River.

She smiled again, hugging herself in the sheer pleasure of her circumstances, looking forward to her business dinner that evening as well as a long, well earned shopping extravaganza the next day.

With a sigh of anticipation, she turned from the window and made her way to the bathroom, where she turned on the water in the large circular Jacuzzi. She returned to the living room and stepped from her dress shoes. The thick luxurious carpeting felt absolutely wonderful, and she smiled down at her tired feet as she scrunched her toes soothingly into the thick pile. She turned to the closet, unbuttoning her silk blouse as she walked, and hung it carefully on one of the hotel's, thoughtfully provided, padded hangers, then stepped from her skirt, hanging in also.

She unhooked her bra, sighing appreciatively as her heavy breasts were suddenly freed from the restrictive confines. She tossed her bra onto the bed and cupped each of her breasts; her fingertips gently kneading the flesh where the heavily underwired cups had gripped her almost uncomfortably. She closed her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile, as the familiar sensuality of her touch begin to evoke sensations within her that were distinctly more erotic than comforting, and she thought, momentarily, how wonderful it was going to be when she eventually surrendered to the simmering desire she had been feeling for most of the day.

The sound of running bathwater suddenly brought her attention back into focus and, with a wistful smile, she lowered her hands, thinking how the small amount of time afforded her would not allow her to get too carried away. She hooked her thumbs into her thong-style panties and pushed them down over her hips and then stepped from them, tossing her panties onto the bed with her brassiere. She sat on the edge of the bed and unclipped each of the garters that supported her stockings, slipping the sheer, sleek hosiery from each leg, and then laying them carefully beside her on the bed before reaching behind her back to undo the clasps of her garterbelt.

Lillian reflected momentarily on her fondness for this particular style of hosiery. While she recognized the universal appeal of pantyhose and the relative ease and simplicity that pantyhose afforded the great majority of women, she wore them on only the rarest of occasions. She much preferred the retro look, and feel, of stockings. The sensual pull of her hosiery on the elastic garters, as she moved about, never failed to infuse her with an innate sense of femininity and sensuality, which appealed to her tremendously.

She stood and gathered up her bra and panties, slipping them into a thoughtfully provided laundry bag. She examined her stockings carefully and smiled to see no sign of any snags or runs. Good, she thought, surmising she would likely get at least one more wearing out of them before relegating them to the laundry.

From the closet, she removed one of the courtesy robes, made of very fine, sleek silk and embroidered with the hotel logo, and slipped into it as she made her way back to the bathroom to check on her water. She felt the water and adjusted the temperature to make it a little cooler and, with the tub still less than half full, returned to the living room, the sheer robe billowing behind her as she walked.

The sensual feel of the sleek robe against her skin made her shiver pleasurably and she smiled as other, even more pleasurable, thoughts crept into her consciousness for the second time in as many minutes. Lillian sighed aloud and bit her lip as she felt the familiar warmth of arousal growing inside her. Thinking about it momentarily, she suddenly realized how it had actually been quite some time since her last orgasm. Little wonder, she thought, for the past three days, she had had almost no time to herself at all, what with rushing around at the last minute with reworked details of her Cairo presentation, as well as the excruciatingly long flight and interminable long lines and delays at the ticket counters and customs. With the water running in the bath, she knew she had precious little time to explore her feelings in the way she liked, but she had been so long without any sexual release that she realized her need of the moment took precedence over her usual, teasingly slower sensuality that she preferred.

She crossed to the bed and sat down, smiled momentarily at her reflection from the dresser mirror and lay back on the bed. She closed her eyes and sighed as she sank into the pillow-top mattress, listening to the soothing sound of the running bathwater. She slowly moved her hands over her body, from her thighs to her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples and moaning softly at the exquisite sensations her fingertips evoked.

Lillian shivered pleasurably, feeling the need rising inside her with surprising speed. She arched her back, moaning softly as she slid both of her hands down to her pubic mound and parted her legs. She pressed up with her hips, rocking her pelvis slowly as her hands moved with knowing experience and the pleasure of her contact sent shivers of ecstasy coursing through her. She slid the middle finger of her right hand between her lips and moaned softly as she discovered how copiously slick and wet she had already become. She slid her finger deep into her pussy as the fingertips of her left hand circled the acutely tender rise of her clitoris rapidly. She gasped in pleasurable surprise as her orgasm was suddenly upon her and swept her away. She surrendered to the pleasure, writhing on the bed in ecstasy as she let herself go.

Lillian cried aloud in her pleasure, giving voice to each wave of sensual bliss as it coursed through her body. She had never been the kind of woman who could receive the pleasure of an orgasm stoically, and believed very strongly that crying out in pleasure actually accentuated and enhanced the pleasure of the experience for her.

Moments later, she lay still and smiled broadly. Oh, wow, she thought, for something that had been so hurriedly undertaken, that had been EXCEPTIONALLY nice. She had certainly had many OTHER occasions where she had masturbated hurriedly in such a perfunctory manner, more as maintenance than pleasure, but, more often than not, those orgasms had also been somewhat less than stellar and more of a tension relief than pleasure.

She sat up and smiled at her reflection once more, thinking to herself that it must be the opulence of the setting that enhanced her hurried maintenance. She stood and made her way back to the bathroom, laughing softly to herself as her legs wobbled shakily beneath her. She turned on the Jacuzzi jets and, as the water boiled to life, she slipped soothingly into the tub with a long pleasurable sigh.

* * * * *

Ahmed scanned the building across the street, focusing his high-powered binoculars on the window he had been instructed to watch for activity. He abhorred these tediously boring aspects of surveillance assignments, and would have much preferred be a part of the assassination team, which, even now, was assembling in a sub-basement of the hotel across the street, and waiting for his signal. However, Ahmed understood that Al-Jahiri had not chosen him for this assignment flippantly, or without due consideration. Indeed, Al-Jahiri did NOTHING without a great deal of thought and reasoning, so Ahmed knew his dependability and skill were being tested. It pleased him tremendously to know that Al-Jahiri had singled him out for this particular assignment and recognized how a successful outcome would, most assuredly, enhance his esteem in Al-Jahiri's eyes and likely even promote him within the ranks of the organization.

With a sigh of duty and resignation, he continued to inspect the darkened room, looking for any movement behind the sheer draperies that would signal that the target had returned. He lowered his high-powered binoculars and rubbed his eyes, the strain of his lengthy and intense scrutiny beginning to tell on him.

He raised his glasses once more and, seeing sudden movement in his range of view, was suddenly jolted with anxious anticipation as he reached for the speakerphone. A moment later he shook his head and cursed under his breath as he realized that the activity he had just witnessed was behind the wrong window. He quickly relocated the correct window and, just as quickly, ascertained that all was dark and quiet, just as it had been for the past several hours.

Thinking to momentarily relieve the monotony and boredom, he began shifting the focus of his attention to various other windows. His fading level of attention annoyed him, he sincerely wanted to maintain a high level diligence, but the prolonged, mind-numbing surveillance of the target window was actually working against his ability to remain constantly alert. He rationalized that, briefly shifting his attention elsewhere would, in effect, keep his mind sharper. Most of the hotel rooms across the street were vacant; he would look into one and then back to the specific one in his assignment before looking elsewhere. He watched a chambermaid straightening up a room for several moments and, at another window observed the room's occupant watching a soccer match on television. Ahmed laughed softly to himself, discovering that his binoculars were so powerful that he could actually follow the action of the soccer teams.

With a start he realized he had been distracted far too long and quickly re-focused on the target window. He sighed heavily, discerning that all was just as it had been for the hours he had already spent watching fruitlessly. He raised his glasses to the penthouse suite, happy to see at least SOME activity there with which to relieve his interminable boredom.

Ahmed watched with growing interest as the woman inside walked from the bed to the dresser, apparently unpacking her suitcase and putting away her clothes. He adjusted the focus of his binoculars to bring the woman into sharper focus and smiled to discover the woman was rather exceptionally attractive.

Imagining the exercise would sharpen his surveillance skills, he examined the woman carefully. From the clothing she wore and the style of her hair, Ahmed could easily discern her to be American, or at the very least, North American. Certainly not Muslim, he surmised, no self-respecting Muslim woman would DARE to wear such form fitting clothing so as to display the contours of her body so shamelessly. He watched with a somewhat schizophrenic fusion of admiration and repugnance as the woman moved about her suite. His extremist Muslim beliefs deplored such a shameless display of sexuality, but, as a man, it was difficult NOT to appreciate the very appealing, sensual sway of her wide, shapely hips.

Despite the woman's so obvious lack of morals, Ahmed had to admit that she was indeed a very pleasant diversion to behold. Not a young woman, he speculated, judging her age to be mid-to-late thirties. Her pale blond hair was shoulder length and attractively styled, moving and flowing with her as she walked, framing her face in a rather appealing manner. He allowed his gaze to move over her body and smiled, helplessly admiring the woman's delightful figure even while her shamelessness triggered his deep-seated moral disgust. Her legs were, he judged, absolutely stunning, almost beyond compare, her calves so sensually formed and shaped by her high-heeled shoes. As the woman moved, her indecently short skirt fluttered about her knees and accentuated her very appealing, wide and fleshy, child bearing hips. Her breasts, he noted, seemed overly large, much like many of the disgusting magazine models he had seen on occasion, with their big, fake siliconed chests bursting from their offensive, and inappropriately tiny, bikini tops. Indeed, as Ahmed studied her bosom with greater care and interest, he could distinctly discern a heaviness in the sway and bounce of her bosom that gave more than ample evidence to his assumption.

She appeared rather tall for a woman, but, as she stepped out of her high-heeled shoes, he determined that she was, in reality, only of medium height, perhaps 165 to 170 centimeters...or five foot six to five foot eight, as the Americans would say. Nor was she unattractively slender, as so many North American women strive so slavishly to be. Her body actually tended toward heaviness, but not unappealingly so, she carried her fleshiness rather attractively, what is often referred to as "full-figured" by clothing designer standards.

He watched the woman disappear into a small room, most likely a bathroom he surmised, and then jolted violently when he suddenly realized he had allowed his attention to wander far too long. He cursed the woman under his breath for luring his attentiveness with her feminine wiles. Moments later, he let out a sigh of relief to discover that nothing untoward had changed behind the curtains of his target window, and went through the repentant motions of watching intently for several minutes.

As he did his best to focus his attention once more on the assigned window, he could not quite seem to keep visions of the woman from his mind. He wondered absently what her business was about, and why she might be visiting Cairo. He speculated momentarily on what her marital status might be, having not taken the time to notice any jewelry she might or might not have been wearing on her wedding finger. Ahmed smiled in spite of himself, thinking how lucky a man would be to have such a voluptuous woman in his bed every night.

Rationalizing that he would only be allaying his curiosity about her marital status by trying to discern whether or not the woman wore any kind of wedding band, Ahmed raised his binoculars once more to the penthouse suite. He gasped aloud in startled fascination to see the woman removing her blouse. He stared openly at the cups of her brassiere, and unconsciously licked his lips. The woman's breasts were very large indeed, and seemingly, almost even too large for the confines of the brassiere cups, which, he startlingly discerned, were so sheer that the dark areolas of her nipples were clearly visible.

He let his breath out slowly as the woman began to remove her skirt. His eyes bulged to see such delicately sensual undergarments, the likes of which he had never seen other than in the pages of the decadent and disgusting American lingerie catalogues, and he licked his lips a second time.

"Oh, yessss." He sighed softly, seeing how the woman's panties were every bit as sheer as her brassiere cups and the dark sensuality of her pubic mound to be rather sensually defined and highlighted. Moreover, as she turned, her entire derriere was completely exposed with only a dainty string between her cheeks.

Despite his strict religious fervor and his hatred and abhorrence of ALL things American, Ahmed could not tear his eyes away from the sensual, American woman.

She reached behind her back and, with a quick movement of her hands, removed her brassiere and tossed it onto the bed. Ahmed gasped aloud as the woman's breasts were suddenly exposed. Never in his life had he ever seen such magnificent breasts. He gaped in stunned silence as the woman cupped her huge breasts and caressed herself with shameless sensuality. Moments later, the woman removed her panties and sat on the edge of the bed and began removing her hosiery. When she finally stood, she was completely nude. Her body was so stunningly feminine and sensual that Ahmed was unable to stem the stirring of arousal between his legs.

He stared in open-mouthed appreciation as she slipped into a delicate robe and, without even wrapping it about her body, turned to begin crossing the room, the robe billowing out behind her. Her large breasts bounced and swayed enticingly as she moved and, for the briefest of moments, Ahmed fantasized what it might be like to actually take such magnificent breasts into his hands and know the warmth of such heavy flesh as he lifted each of her nipples to his lips. He watched in rapt fascination as she, so shamelessly, crossed the room to disappear into the bath, her unbound breasts swaying provocatively as she moved, and the smooth, pale flesh of her buttocks jiggling so enticingly with each sway of her wide, fleshy hips.