A Cairo Affair
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2010 by Stella Bake
Cover art copyright © 2010 by TheGiftedhands Inc.
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
Chapter I
Navid Oboj rolled over, his hands dropping on the empty space at the opposite end of the bed, empty again, as always. He awakened, the bedroom was dark and he thought it was still the middle of the night. Then he picked up his wrist watch off the lamp table beside the bed and saw that it was twenty minutes after eleven in the morning. The bedroom was dark, he realized, because he had drawn the heavy blue draperies, after closing the wooden shutters, to keep the sun from disturbing his sleep. The event of last night was still and all fresh and he could still perceive her all over him and in the room. For reasons she had continued to hide from him, she’d never spent the whole night with him. They usually met in the evenings around eight o’clock in his apartment and she would leave around midnight. At least so he believed. She left always when he was fast asleep, always knocking him out from sexual exhaustion. The first couple of nights they had spent together, he had been very careful with her, watchful with his wallet and passport, two things that were of value to him. But by the following week, she would let herself out when it was time for her to leave. Once though, she had mentioned that she was sharing an apartment with her mother and brother and that had been the first night and time they had shared his bed. It was the third week he arrived in Cairo. The first two weeks had been exciting with him visiting the Pyramids, the old city and getting lost while trying to get around on a bus ride in a default Arabic speaking city where a very large percentage of the people who speak English seem to only speak two sentences, “hello” and “what’s your name?” He had met a few westerners as well, but he was not in Cairo to make friends. He was Egypt to find is path in life.
Losing Tiana was a turning point in his life. They had both agreed to spend their honey moon in Egypt. Spend it in the land of the Pharaohs. That was two and half years ago and for thirty months, he lived each hour, minute and second thinking of what ought to have been and how cruel people could be. Then eight weeks ago, he sent in his resignation letter, picked a few of his stuffs, then left a note for his mother and father, telling them he was leaving the country for some months. The next night he was on a plane, heading to Egypt. He was tired of being an Engineer, he was tired of sleeping in the same bed he had shared with the woman he once loved, and still did. His life had suddenly turned a routine, wake up – work – back home – sleep. Although weekends were often different, while he wouldn’t be working, he always had enough time on his hands to relish in anguish the pains of loneliness and boredom. He had read somewhere or heard from someone that life started in Egypt and had hope coming to Cairo would bring about a fresh start in his life as well. The third week, he had moved into a comfortable two bedroom apartment in Rehab city an estate located along the river Nile, then it became exceptionally boring. Boring to a boiling point but he knew what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to write and had a perfect story idea he was going to work on. Writing had always been his first love and how he came to be an Engineer was too complicated for him himself to understand. Yeah. He had done it all for the sake of his love for Tiana. She had told him about her fantasies of marrying an Engineer and he was so in love with her that he gave up what he loved most. But wasn’t that what love was all about. He had no regrets of his career or of their time together. ‘Factly’, he cherished every moment he’d spent with her and in her. Now that she was gone, and he starting a new life in a country where life itself started, what better than going back to the basis, writing. It’s been so long he’d written, he didn’t even know from where he was going to start from. For one, he knew he wanted to write about Egypt, Cairo, her people and their way of life. Was not the Pilgrim’s progress written in Jail. He was Egypt now and had to make use of it to his own advantage. When the best is not available, they say, they available becomes the best. Somehow though, he had hit a writer’s block even before laying his hands down to write. He had tried writing on paper and on the computer. Both had tuned out the same result, nothing. By the third week, he was so bored and frustrated with his inability to put his ideas down, he could pay for some company.
He had searched online and had discovered that there was a Mall in the center of town that had a cinema, located right across the river Nile. He could even see the big postal board on the roof of the Mall from the window of his apartment. He wasn’t a big fan of movies but had to adhere to the habit of going to see movies at the theater to while away his time and hopefully, get the brain cell that used to help him write back alive. It was while getting a movie ticket to see Ernal, a new action thriller, that he met Kaffi. She wasn’t like the other girls he had spoke with, not like he had spoken with a handful prior to their meeting though. Her spoken English was flawless and she could carry on a simple conversation. Truthfully, the main primary reason he was attracted to her was because she reminded him a lot of Tiana, in some very good ways. At first he had thought she was a foreigner and was amazed when she told him she was an Egyptian, who had never stepped her foot on any western soil. Her parents were religious Muslims and travelling abroad for her family was limited only to the Islamic states. To her parents, the western world was the major source of ethical pollutions. He had lamented how bored he was in Cairo, and after the movie, she had offered to show him Cairo’s night life. She took him to Ileoti, a bar also at the other side of the Nile River. He didn’t know Egyptians had a place where liquor was sold so freely and more surprised that Kaffi, a Muslim girl, who even at a bar had her scarf covering her head could consume liquor, and at such rate. For one he’d thought Egypt was a place where you’d never find alcoholic drinks, prostitutes and the big one, that every Egyptian girl not married was a virgin. They had eaten sparingly and had drunk straight Scotches before, during and after dinner, and had got fantastically high and extremely personal and intimate. Jokingly, as they drank, she had pointed out to him how he could pick an Egyptian prostitute in a bar and he had told her he was not the type that was into patronizing prostitutes. If he’d wanted sex tourism, he’d have opted to Vietnam, Thailand and the Philippines he’d joked. They had both gone on to talk about their past relationships and naughty habits. He did talk about his college day’s sexual exploits but not once mentioning Tiana’s name. To him, Tiana was special, damn too special and no matter how Kaffi reminded him of her, he was not ready to relay why he left his family, friends and the sleepless city of New York to take up a new life in Egypt. Moreover, flipping open his memory book of Tiana would soil the exciting mood he was having with Kaffi. Kaffi had told him she was a twenty-six year old single Muslim girl teaching at a Nursery and primary school in central Cairo. That she was the only daughter of her parents with an only brother who had an only sister.
That same night, he realized to his own amusement that he had not out grown his bad habit. He was a terrible drinker and he knew he had gulped more than he could control. He could hear himself, he sounded drunk but she didn’t nor looked it and even if she had been drunk that night, he wouldn’t have known. It was not the first time he had met a lady that could hold her drinks, but he was far away from home and had never thought a girl in her mid twenties in an Islamic country would white wash him like the girls from his college days did to him every Friday night. Leaving through the swinging doors, they had stood in the street near a T-junction, both immobilized, uncertain as to what to come next. He knew he ought to take her home, but with his present state of mind, it would be the other way around and it happened just like that. She had a car and even if she could walk on a straight line and touch the pointed edge of her nose with her index finger without losing it, he advised she shouldn’t drive and they opted for a taxi, to his place. The moment they had entered the living room of his apartment, and he had shut the door behind him, Kaffi had turned around to face him, put her arms around his neck, kissing him with her full lips parted and her tongue teasing his as her large, firm breasts pressed against him. Her lips had moved to his ear. “Navid, I want you.” She had whispered. He had not been laid for a while and her offer was irresistible. His mind objected, not his body. “Aren’t you supposed to be a virgin?” he inquired as she led the way into his bedroom pulling at his shirt. She threw him look, amused. “I bet there are more virgins in New York City alone than there are in the whole of Egypt.”
“Really? You mean you’re not…and not married” he asked still puzzled.
“Am not married Navid and Hush…” she places a finger on his mouth, with her other hand wrapped around his neck. “Action now, questions later. Meshi?” Whatever that meant, he winked.
Inside his bedroom, lit by one lamp, he had undressed with his back to her, his hands doing the undressing on its own free will. As he removed his last garment, his shorts, he turned toward the bed. She was lying on it stark naked, her legs wide open. The size of her distended nipples on her enormous breasts, the soft wideness of her hips, the prominence of her long Virginia mound affected him instantly. He felt his penis grow, and rise, and swell. He could not believe that he was actually getting rigid. He had gone drinking once on a Friday night after a colleague at work had advised him to go get laid to get rid of his clumsiness at work and had ended up with a girl with a girl he met in the bar but nothing had happened. The girl, Mandy, a top notch model in New York had stripped naked and tried all she could to get him up. It had been as though a fatal dose of propofol had been injected into body and the anesthetic affecting no other region than his loins. He had felt nothing. At the end of it all, Mandy left but not after reminding him of how much of a loser he was. After that night with Mandy, he had believed Tiana had taken more than herself from him, that she had taken away with her a part of his manhood. With Kaffi he had attained a total erection. A sign Egypt was to be a place of his rebirth, the rebirth of Navid Oboj. As he stood still naked, lost in the memory her nakedness evoked, Kaffi had reached for a pillow and threw it at him.
“Will you stop?”
“Only if you make me,”
“I’ll make you alright,” he had giggled and made it across the room in record time. Climbed over her and started to kiss her nipples. Then he started to kiss her on the lips, slowly at first, but as things began to heat up it was all he could do to control himself. She pulled him away, grasping for breathe. Her voice was shrill and commanding. “I’m ready, Navid.” He ignored her plea and continued to suck at her breast.
“Common Navid, common please, come…on” she insisted, wriggling back into position. He traced her breast with the tips of his fingers, touching her softly, stroking her nipples until she began to make small gasping sounds. He had found her moist vaginal opening and groaned as he broke through her as gently as he could and took her all the way.
“Ummm…” The desperate shrillness faded from her voice and she began to sound pleased. “Ooooooh…” She continued to sigh sweetly as he pumped away. Then it hit him, the usual exciting, throbbing, and out-of-control feeling he had not experienced in thirty months and three weeks.
“Gees! Holy goodness! I’m Cumming.” He had whispered into her ears. Her hands had been around his waist, her nails digging into his flesh, drawing him down. “Tomorrow night will be longer, and the night after even better. Oh, darling you are so good…” she said screaming out her satisfaction.
Kaffi had been right. It indeed became longer and better. It had been good. It had been daily for six weeks. He had not been in love with her, but had appreciated her warmth and companionship. How she truly felt about him he had not known for certain. She had been undemanding emotionally and he did not expect it of her.
Chapter 2
It was one of those mornings he wished he could still time, then sleep on till his eyes and nerves got tired of idleness. For a couple of weeks he had lost himself in sex. It was so good it should be illegal, especially with Kaffi, who knew everything he liked and made sure he was the happiest sexually satisfied man. Navid swung out of bed, bare-chested, bare-footed, wearing only his pajama bottoms. He went to the bedroom draperies, tugged at the cords, pulling them back. Then he unlatched the double windows, reached out, and pushed back the shutters. The morning glow streamed in, and the darkness in the room became extinct. It was a blistering hot Tuesday with the Sun barely risen, an exaggeration, but man, it was hot! He came to Egypt just as winter was winding up and he had been told Egypt had had a mild winter and everyone had been anticipating a mild summer as well. But now it was so hot you could melt in your panties and if permitted, everybody would be in the streets on their hands and knees, praying for a stray breeze. He plunged backwards, landing on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had had a late night with Kaffi and boy he was tired. He pushed himself out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. Standing on the rubber mat in the bathroom, invigorated by the shower, he allowed his mind to stray off from last night, or the one before and even the one before that. After bathing, he starred at himself in the bathroom mirror, and liked what he had seen. He could remember himself at the time of his high school days and early college years; he was but a lean, un-athletic figure. At that time he was in love with a girl from his group, but not only didn’t she pay any attention to him, but she even made fun of him many times. Because she wanted to be a plastic surgeon, one of her usual jokes will be to tell him, in front of everybody, that she would treat him to help him look better. She did turn out a plastic surgeon and indeed helped him looked well, inside out. She was his first kiss, first love and the first to break his heart. But that was a long time ago and his body had changed. His hair was still black, neatly parted at one side, and his facial features were still narrow and angular. But his biceps and six packs always went not without getting comments from every sexy girl that had seen him without a shirt on. Each evening with Kaffi always left him hungry the next morning, but unlike other mornings, this particular one, he could kill for a loaf of bread. He strode deliberately to the door linking his bedroom and sitting room. He stood confused for a few seconds. He’s laptop was on the coffee table. He felt like writing this morning but was too hungry to do the task. He decides to grab a quick breakfast at his favorite spot, Geebee’s restaurant. He was a terrible cook even if he knew where he could buy food stuffs.