“Are you wearing the nice lingerie I got for you?” I was hoping she would reply in the affirmative.

“Would you want me to?” was the almost expected reply.

“Isn’t that why I brought it all the way for you?”

“I could not resist putting it on,” she confessed, “it is so sexy and something I would never get in this place.”

“Can I see you in it?” I questioned her, hoping of course to then see her out of it.

“Only if you can somehow show up at my door in the next few moments,” she gave a nice laugh as she reminded me of the obvious insurmountable fact over the phone.


It had been years since I had been in Egypt, the land of the Sun, the country with a 7,000 year history and the cradle of the Nile. Flying from the Arabian Gulf to Cairo had always seemed to be more trouble, and this had truly been the case as Egyptians galore were headed back to their country after earning their periodic moneys in the oil rich states. The plane was full to capacity and the type of uneducated and relative boorish folks on board did nothing to help. Mercifully it was just a short three hour hop, which for a world traveler like me would not even register as a trip. Still being in a middle seat, having been bumped down to coach due to a change in flight seating and stuck between a smelly labourer on one side and a fat matron on the other, it was proving tough even for me to pass time. I did know that at the other end was the city with probably the best hotels in the Middle East, bar Dubai.

“Can I help you sir?”

Having finally exited the restrictive confines of the aircraft, I now was lost in the bustle of Cairo’s Egypt Air terminal, a mass of humanity around me and no signage to indicate where to head to. The immigration officer had directed me to get a visit visa from one of the windows, but the crowd was in no mood to let me through. I realized at that moment why the travel company had suggested a meet and greet, for which they appeared to be charging inordinately. At the moment, I would have paid dearly to be out of the mess.

The 40-something gentleman in a dark suit and with an airport access card was addressing me, having seen that I was getting nowhere.

“Yes, I do not know where to go for the visa.”

“If you let this gentleman have your passport and $15, he will get it done for you; meanwhile you can follow me to baggage claim.”

Abdel Rahman turned out to be a senior immigration officer and unusually for an Egyptian, seemed to care about helping visitors to his country. His eyes lit up when I advised I was in Cairo to recruit sales persons for my employer in the Gulf. Not so surprisingly he knew the recruitment consultancy well and promised to follow up on my trip. Very surprisingly he looked hurt when I tried to offer some cash for his trouble.

“It is okay, Mr. Naeem, I might send a nephew or niece your way; maybe you will be able to interview them for any available positions.”


Quick Work Enterprises had sent a nice Mercedes, with a driver who spoke some English and French to fetch me. I figured we were headed to a nice district like Maadi. Instead I was real surprised when let off in front of a rather old building on a crowded, souk-type street. A team of three persons was there to greet and head me upstairs via an extraordinarily creaky elevator to the fifth floor.

My impression of the place did not improve as I entered the reception area and was introduced to the secretary, Amal, who was a well-proportioned and highly made-up pseudo blonde with large boobs. The big boss, Mr. Afif came hurtling out of his side office and gave me a bear hug.

“Mr. Naeem, welcome al-Qahira,” he managed in pidgin English, adding, “al-youm Miss Wafa give help to interview, wa baad maghrib you come ghida al-baab.” I knew enough Arabic to understand that a Miss Wafa was to assist during the process and that he was inviting me to his home for dinner that evening.

I was led into the interview room, which had an adequately large table with plush chairs on one side and wooden ones on the other. I was directed to the best chair at the centre. The expected, unending rounds of tea and small sweets began almost immediately. A couple of minutes later I heard a sing song voice asking people to get organized and begin sending the applicants in as soon as I had indicated I was ready.

I was soon introduced to the owner of the voice, the Miss Wafa, who had been mentioned earlier. Expecting a matron in fully covering Egyptian garb, I was pleasantly surprised by a mid-twenties young lady, a bit over 5 feet tall and dressed in a fashionable brown skirt and jacket, who walked in and offered her hand. Wafa would have looked good in a jute bag, but dressed to work, she was stunning with dark brown hair, a very pretty face and eyes that just held my gaze for much longer than proper. Unlike the secretary, she was wearing light make-up and had just a hint of perfume.

“Welcome Mr. Naeem, I hope you have not had any troubles so far in Cairo?” ankara escort

“Oh no, not at all, in fact, I am sure that there are not going to be any,” I professed, unashamedly staring at the beauty in front of me.

“In that case, our first applicant is …….”


I knew that there was no way she was going to come over to my hotel and let me see her in the beautiful white chemise and trimmings that I had presented her with at dinner. I had chanced that she would have opened the package the minute she got home and resisting the urge to try the lingerie on would be tough.

I had opted to let our taxi go a few hundred yards from her home and had walked back to wait. Rather than using my hotel phone, I was making an expensive roaming call on my mobile. Should she not be receptive, I would have a real hard time finding a cab in her neighbourhood at night.

Taking up on her dare, I was at the door within a moment or two, ringing the bell.

Not figuring that I would be there, she had thrown a coverlet over the lingerie and opened the door.


The morning session went off without a hitch. Wafa kept things moving professionally and the poorer candidates were weeded out instantaneously. My list of possible selectees, soon hit a respectable total.

We ran out to a nearby fast food place for a quick bite. I could note that most of the guys in the place were checking out Wafa and feeling a bit jealous of my proximity to her. I decided to take a chance at being even friendlier. Noting that she had not taken any dessert, I took my spoon and offered her some of the cake I was eating. Not giving it much thought she took the bite and then realized I was feeding her. To put emphasis what I had done, I took my napkin and softly wiped around her lips. She went beet red and conversation in the eatery stopped as all looked for what would next transpire.

But work was work, and a few minutes later, she reminded me we were now twenty minutes behind schedule!

We interviewed over 100 persons in the three days and selected around 20 to be working with my company in the UAE. Lunches remained nice, but since Mr. Afif had dinners planned in advance, I was unable to take things further for then.


Wafa stood frozen with shock, her eyes wide open, failing to comprehend how I could take her up on her challenge so soon.

Entering the house swiftly, I lifted her off the floor and carried her towards the only lighted room, correctly guessing it was her bedroom.

“You should not be here, my mother will wake up.”

“Oh that is quite okay, you told me earlier that your mom is away to visit your brother in Port Suez!”

My hands worked their way under the coverlet and soon it was off, leaving her standing in the white lingerie and matching heels. The chemise was somewhat demure, and may not have set off alarms in more liberal environs, but the state of undress for Wafa was still significant. I noted that she had reasonably shaped legs and petite feet. Her breasts were puffing up and down as more and more of her body was revealed to my sight.

Her complexion reddened and this added to her considerable beauty. Her dark hair cascaded down her back and her golden-brown skin was set off marvellously by the white coloured garments.

She was at a loss for words and I used the opportunity to put my arms around her waist and back her against the wall. She was unable to pull back as my lips came down on hers. She tried to push me away, but was not in position to stop my access to her lips, face, cheeks, neck or other parts.

“Please don’t,” she whimpered, knowing well that I had no intention of stopping.

After trying for a while, she appeared to give up the fight. I was able to pry her lips open and put my tongue into her mouth as my pelvic region came up against her privates. Soon she got the hang of things and we were able to deep kiss.

I was so glad that I had picked the right present and made the correct call regarding the taxi.


The people I had hired in Egypt had made an almost immediate impact on our business. Whereas prior hires had not been high quality, the bosses were delighted that I had got this bunch. It was not too long before a second trip to Cairo occurred, then a third, and now a fourth.

Wafa had been polite and proper throughout, but had taken me to shop in the city a couple of times. During the last trip, she had accepted my invitation to accompany me on a Nile Cruise, with the promise that I would ensure she was back well in time. Her guard down a bit during the event and she was even sport enough to join me for a bit of dancing on the boat’s disco floor.

I felt that things were going to work better this time around. Cheekily I bought her a nice set of white lingerie and some expensive perfume. Whereas I had simply presented all at the agency with T-shirts the last time around, Wafa was getting something of real value, not to mention symbolism.

I had packaged the escort ankara items well and told her to open them at home. In any case it would not have been nice to open a present at the restaurant where we were enjoying dinner. I had offered to escort her back home in the taxi prior to returning to my hotel.

After going a bit up the road, I had paid the taxi off and waited for a half hour in a roadside cafe.


My hands had by now wandered under the chemise and panties and I figured she was primed to go. The lingerie vanished in no time and I put her on the bed, sans all clothes and only in heels. Ensuring that she would not try to slip away, I maintained a steady downward pressure on her as I clumsily dropped my garments.

Wafa realized that I was about to enter her vaginally and pleaded that she was a virgin. “Please I will not be able to find a husband in Egypt if you do this,” she implored.

For whatever reason, I understood her predicament and stopped trying to pry her legs apart. “I’m sorry I thought you were ready to make love.”

Though I could easily do so, my brains told me that rape would not be a good idea, even if everything so far had happened with her consent. For the strangest reason I blurted out, “oh well I guess I will have to jack off at the hotel.”

“What do you mean?” she asked very innocently.

“Wafa, I feel close to you and would love to get intimate, but do not want to force myself. At the same time, I am now very aroused and it is not easy to come back down.”

“Is there something we could do that would not involve losing my virginity?” was her most surprising reply.

The lamb was led straight to water!

I had her sit down on the ground and slowly pushed her mouth down over my throbbing prick. She gagged as it went in all the way and pulled up. I delicately led her to my penis again and this time she moved down slowly and then back up. It did not take long for her to get the hang of things and, while the blow job was not worthy of writing to mom about, it was nevertheless immensely enjoyable at the time.

Figuring that she could be surprised into biting down as I climaxed, I whispered, “be ready to take some cream into your mouth, if you don’t like it you can spit it out.”

She just mumbled and kept going. Sure enough my explosion was considerable and her mouth was flooded with cum. Wafa both swallowed and spat, jerking her head back and away from my still spurting member. Thankfully she did not bite down!

Ever the gentleman, I had a tissue out in a moment and was cleaning around her lips as she took whatever was in her mouth down.

“That was awesome darling,” I let her know.


I was not quite done, but was not quite ready to have an immediate second go.

“Wafa, would it be okay to stay with you tonight?” I was hoping for an affirmative answer.

“Why, are you not done?” she queried back.

“Oh, I’d like to show you something else without doing anything you do not want me to.”

Semi-reluctantly she agreed and went to clean her mouth as I stretched out on her bed.

By the time she returned I had another hard on and had located her vanity items on the nearby dresser.

Although she had thrown on the chemise, I laid her down and began to kiss her again. She had certainly warmed up and returned my kisses with passion. I figured many years of restrictive Egyptian environs had primed her nicely and I was lucky to be with her at the time.

Very deliberately I turned her on to her stomach, placing myself behind her and between her legs. She tensed as I took a generous dollop of cold cream and greased her anus. “What are you doing?” she sounded worried.

“It’s okay, I am making sure I am not taking your virginity,” I retorted telling a half-truth of sorts. Her virginal ass was soon to be violated.

I placed the tip of my cock at her anal opening and slowly pushed forward. Wafa screamed like a banshee and bucked. However, I was ready for her reaction and held her down as my tool worked its way inside her. She started sobbing as I forced myself totally into her rectum. We stayed joined for a while as I tried to make her calm down while she cursed me in some pretty tartly Arabic. After she had settled down a bit and relaxed her muscles, I began to pull out and push in. Being a first fuck, her ass was exceedingly tight and her tears kept flowing due to the pain. It took me a fair bit of time to reach orgasm and send my juices into her a second time. As her insides moistened she finally eased and I was able to slide up and in a few more times with ease, letting the last few drops go into her. Finally I pulled out and lay down spent next to her.

Pulling her mouth to me, I kissed her deeply and brushed the tears still coming with my hand. “I’m sorry dear,” I told her, “it will not be so painful the next time.” She gave me a look like I was from Mars as soon as I had uttered the words. But she did cuddle up to me and kiss with gusto.


“I ankara escort bayan have a Miss Randa up here,” Wafa advised when I arrived at the office for my usual hiring interviews which now came up real soon, “she says a Mr. Abdel Rahman has suggested you meet with her.”

I tossed the name about and recalled the fellow that had provided assistance at the Immigration Area. This was my third trip since meeting him and so far he had not sent the expected relative to seek a favour. I figured that he considered it appropriate for a man of his rank to not hurry things; I did expect that he would be looking for my cooperation in the lady’s matter.

“Do you need me to join you?” Wafa had an unusual tone in her speech, “it seems the girl speaks good English.” I wondered what had gotten into her. Just a few hours earlier we had disengaged from our tryst and I had returned to my hotel in the wee hours of the morning. Rather than cuddling up to me like a recent lover, she was almost accusing me of something.

The answer became clear the moment I stepped into the interview room to meet my visitor. Unlike many of the girls who had showed up to for the interviews fully clad, this one had no issue with revealing her relatively shaped long legs with killer heels on her feet, wearing a chic skirt and blouse, showing a well organized hairdo, and, most of all, a face that could stop traffic. Randa was beautiful and she knew it. The trouble was that Wafa knew it too by now, not that she was any less the babe.

“Hello Mr. Naeem,” she presented me her hand. I was unsure whether to shake or kiss it, but took the safer approach. She did have a fairly strong grip and the smile on her face indicated that she understood I was in uncertain territory.

“Thank you for seeing me today,” she let me know, “I am sorry I did not call ahead and make the appointment.”

“It’s okay,” I responded, “and how is Mr. Abdel Rahman?”


“You are going to take that whore to dinner tonight and not care one bit about me,” Wafa was in tears now, having just given me an earful of what she thought of my new acquaintance.

“No, I am invited by her uncle and,” I measured my words carefully, “she did not say she would be there.”

“And I am supposed to believe that,” Wafa continued, “you do not have any feelings for me anymore!”

Less than a day had passed from where we had been most intimate with each other, now the jealous side of Wafa was showing up.

“Did you hire her?” Wafa kept on.

“No, she did not even ask for a job and neither did her uncle send any such message,” I explained though somewhat uncertain of why such a request had not arrived.

Wafa could not care less, suggesting, “you will make love to her like many others who have enjoyed her body and charms.”

This was truly not what I wanted to be involved with. The trouble was that we were still in the office. Still I acted impulsively, lifted her off the ground, laid her on the table, and brought my mouth over hers. Shocked for an instant, Wafa quickly kissed back. I could tell she was ready to let me go further so as to not let the other person get my attentions instead. Wafa did not object, when my fingers found their way under her skirt and came up against her panties. She did, however, firmly grab on to my arm to restrict me from inserting my fingers further than the bit I already had into her cunt. I retracted my hand and broke off the kiss. Wafa jumped off the table, took the fingers that had just come out of her pussy and sucked on them for a bit, then smoothed her clothing out, and gave me a magnificent smile. She sensed I had been won back, and was displaying her regained confidence, but things were not quite that simple.


“Mr. Naeem, I am honoured to have you as my guest,” Abdel Rahman was effusive in his welcome.

I had just been picked up by Randa in a new Toyota and driven over to his place. My attention was riveted on her through the forty minute drive as the short skirt she was wearing had hiked up and furthermore her boobs were freely jiggling in the tight T-shirt she had on. Randa was an un-Egyptian as could be; perhaps this was a new class of person I mused.

“I hope Randa drove you over safely, she can be a speed devil sometimes,” he added, eliciting a fake show of surprise from her.

“Well as long as we got here safely, then all’s forgiven,” I figured there was no reason to make an issue.

“We are going to have a nice dinner, then go to enjoy the Cairo nightlife,” my host advised.

Egyptians can be exceedingly hospitable, particularly when there is a business angle involved and I wondered when Abdel Rahman might bring up whatever benefit he expected from my side. A veritable spread of Egyptian and Mediterranean foods weighed down the dining table. I was expecting to see a wife or other members of his family but none made an appearance.

“I see you are looking forward to meeting my family,” he chimed in right after loading my plate with much more food than I could eat in a day.

“Well, I was hoping to have that opportunity.”

“And you will,” he responded, “it just so happens that they are all attending a wedding in Alexandria and I will join them tomorrow afternoon.”



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