The sound of the landing gear lowering shattered the silence.  We were looking out the window, watching the countryside race by.   The ground grew closer, the lights shining from the wings illuminating the speeding tarmac.  The plane bounced lightly, the runway biting into the tires.  The jet engines whined loudly as the pilot slowed the plane.  We eased to a slow roll, angling to dock at the terminal. 

   "Welcome to Paris, mistress Collette," the loudspeaker squawked, the pilot greeting his happy passengers.

   We turned and rolled along.  The plane lurched and stopped.    I looked out the window, watching as the plane once again went through the ritual of being refueled.  The jetway was pushed into place, resting gently against the side of the plane.  Lydia unstrapped her seatbelt, and began to open the cabin door.  The door pulled inward revealing the carpeted hallway of the jetway.  The air smelled fresh, alive with the intoxicating romance dancing in the air.

   Collette smiled, her face alit with the giddiness of the warm Paris night pushing in from the jetway.  She took my hand and pulled me to my feet.  The pilot left the cockpit and greeted us, "mistress," he began, his eyes downcast.  "Enjoy your dinner.   You will have to go through customs to enter the country.  Make sure you have your passport.  What would you like Lydia and I to do while you are at dinner?"

   Collette pondered the question briefly, "wait here, I am anxious to get to my yacht, just hungry.  French food sounded heavenly.  We will return after dinner, ready for departure.  If you are tired, feel free to take a nap."   She turned to Lydia, "serve dinner to," she indicated the pilot, "Marcus and yourself.  We won't be long."

   In unison, Marcus and Lydia replied, "yes, mistress."

   Collette took my arm and together we exited the plane and bounded up the jetway.  The hall opened into a large room, decorated with gray carpet and plastic orange chairs.  A sign written in English read: Customs This Way, with an arrow pointing down a wide hallway.  The hallway was deserted, and I wondered how that could be.  I would have anticipated milling throngs of incoming foreigners visiting Paris for their honeymoon or vacation.

   We walked through the deserted corridor towards customs.  We were greeted by a handsome young man with thick glasses and a gentle smile.  "Welcome to Paris," he smiled.

   "Thank you," we uttered in unison.

   He helped up with the necessary paperwork, checked and stamped out passports, and then smiled again, "that's it."  Having no luggage no doubt helped our entry into France

   It was surprising easy to enter the country and within minutes we were standing at a currency exchange acquiring a pocketful of Francs.  Moments later we stepped outside the airport to hail a cab.  A taxi appeared and Collette surprised me when she told the driver in perfect French what we were seeking.  We sped away, the driver weaving in traffic as cabbies the world over always seem to do.  Missing other cars within inches.  I gripped Collette's hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

   We arrived at a brightly lit restaurant, a small line waiting to go inside.  Exiting the cab, we paid the driver.   He thanked us and sped away, turning without stepping on the brake.  We stood in line watching the crowd inch forward.  The people were noisy, talking loudly with exaggerated arm movements.  I tried to follow along, but my meager understanding of the romantic language did not allow me to keep up with the rapid words.

   Collette giggled as she too listened intently to the conversations.   "What's so funny?" I asked, my curiosity climbing.

   Smiling Collette replied, "they called you a tourist." 

   I looked at the people in line as we stepped forward again.  None of the waiting masses seemed to be giving either Collette or myself a second glance.  Who had called me a tourist?

   Collette's soft voice spoke fluid French.  She had turned to engage the couple behind us in conversation.  I followed along, only comprehending half of the words.  She turned to me laughing, "I told them you were a tourist, and that I took pity on you."  She laughed again, the sound heavenly.  Like an Angelic choir, the sound uplifting. 

   I smiled back, a hearty chuckle rising in my throat.

   Collette spoke to the couple behind us, her words slipping from her tongue like a knife through butter, quickly and easily.   Her arm movements were as exaggerated as that of the rest of the patrons standing in line.  She indicated me a few times, her smile lighting her face.  She grinned heavily and then laughed loudly, a hearty sound.

   We inched forward until the maitre 'd interrupted Collette's conversation.   He inquired as to the size of our party, and my face registered surprise when Collette replied, "quatre."

  I looked at Collette's smiling face.  She had made fast friends with the couple and for the first time I studied them.  He was a handsome man, tall and thin.   He had a chiseled face, half-hidden by a thick goatee.  His black hair fit his style, shining in the fake light.  He was dressed as I was in a perfectly fitted black tuxedo, complete with cummerbund and bow-tie.  His companion was an attractive woman with dark blonde hair draping her shoulders.  She was dressed in a black, form fitting evening gown that fell to caress her feet adorned with black pumps.  With a smile Collette took my arm and together the four of us followed the maitre 'd inside the crowded restaurant.

   Intimate tables adorned with flickering candles and soft roses filled the room. We followed our escort to a comfortable table off to the left hand side.  We passed noisy tables with patrons chatting loudly, chewing with their mouths open.  I caught fragments of conversations as we traversed the room.  Hearty and loud, the voiced mingling to a rushing crescendo.

   The maitre 'd escorted us to our table and with practiced ease he pulled out the cushioned chairs for both Collette and our soft, feminine guest.  Sitting down, he then pushed the chairs in and offered us the menus.  We took them and he bade us a good dinner.  We perused the menus, I read the best my limited French would allow, recognizing the word, bistec, and found what I would order.  There was safety in beef.

   A tall man dressed in a white tuxedo with a bright red bow-tie arrived.   He introduced himself as our waiter, his nametag reading: Jacques.  He spoke French and Collette nodded knowingly.  Collette replied, smiling broadly as she gestured to me.  Our guests chuckled heartily and I blushed slightly; Jacques suppressed a laugh.   Under the table Collette patted my thigh, her smile turning into a bemused grin.   Collette ordered a helping of escargot as an appetizer and Jacques nodded as he left to retrieve our requested drinks and to place the appetizer order.

   Collette turned to our guests and began to speak rapidly, the romantic language rolling off her tongue as fluidly as running water.  Her hands danced energetically, punctuating her words with the quick movements.  Our guests listened intently and I leaned in paying rapt attention even though the words, for the most part, meant nothing.  Collette spoke loudly, fitting in with the flamboyant crowd.  The couple held hands, and I watched as his thumb caressed the folded fingers of his?  I wondered what their relationship was.  Wife?

   The couple threw curious glances towards my silent form.  I tried to read their faces.  Were they curious about me?  Or was Collette telling stories about me?  My feeble understanding of the language being spoken provided no answers.

   The waiter arrived, carrying our drinks and a small plate.  He delivered our drinks, and I sipped the wine, savoring the bouquet.  He set the plate on the table and I wondered what he had delivered.  Twelve large dollops of white cheese sat in a small concave indention on the plate.  Collette unfurled her silverware and pulled out a tiny three-tined fork.  The waiter excused himself after Collette explained that we would need more time to peruse the menus.

   She stabbed the cheese pile and lifted the morsel to her mouth.   Under the cheese was a tan piece of flesh, the snail that she had ordered, I reasoned.  She popped the delicacy into her mouth, purring heartily at the robust flavors exploding on her tongue.  She chewed happily, her face lit with happiness.  She chewed slowly, savoring the taste.  Our guests followed suit, snatching up a snail of their own, enjoying the delightful flavors exploding in their mouths.

   Swallowing the morsel she turned to me, "have one," she purred.  

   "No, thank you," I answered, "I don't like snails."

   She smiled, "you misunderstood me.  Have one."

   I unwrapped my silverware, surprised that it was actually made of pure silver.  I grabbed the tiny fork and stabbed one of the snails.  The white cheese, Collette explained it was brie cheese, was thick, piled high on the meat of the snail.   I shut my eyes, not wanting to see what I was putting in my mouth.  I slipped the snail into my mouth and chewed slowly, my eyes held tight.  Surprise lit my face as the wonderful taste of the French delicacy flooded my mouth with exquisite pleasure.

   "Mmmm," I moaned through the thin line of my lips, my eyes open to watch Collette's smile grow.  I picked up my wine glass and sipped slowly.

   "I knew you would like them.  Everyone I have had try them has liked them."

   The woman spoke, her words flowing rapidly.

   Collette grinned.  She replied in her perfect French, and then turning to me she translated, "she asked me what I meant when I said, 'you misunderstood me.'   I explained that you were my slave."

   I almost choked on my wine, pulling the glass from my lips.  I stared at Collette then at the warm face of our guest, Melinda, trying to read the look on her face.   Was it amusement? Or surprise?  Wonder?  Or disbelief?  I could not tell.  She broke out laughing, a high, feminine sound rolling off her tongue.   She smiled happily as she broke out in a litany of words that flowed like a river.   She indicated her companion and Collette clapped merrily.

   They continued to chat heatedly, their hands flying, the words flowing like the wine in our glasses.  Melinda's companion blushed, his face matching mine.  Collette continued to indicate me as Melinda indicated Travis.  They chatted on until the waiter arrived again to take our orders.

   I ordered the bistec I had found on the menu, receiving an odd look from the waiter.  Collette looked at me and then in her perfect French changed my order.   She ordered for both of us, the waiter looking at me and then back at Collette, smiling knowingly.  Melinda ordered for both her and Travis, her soft timbre sounding light as she spoke.

   Collette turned to me when as the waiter departed, "you should have studied harder," she giggled, "you ordered cow brains.  I changed your order to chicken with wine sauce, coq au vin."

   Travis chuckled and Melinda giggled, my face crimson.

   "Thank you."

   "You're welcome," still giggling.

   Collette, Melinda, and Travis chatted amiably, the romantic language casting me as an outsider.  I tried to follow as well as my limited use of the language would allow, but it was fruitless.  Collette sensed my discomfort and whispered paused her conversation to bend and whisper in my ear.  I nodded, smiled, and in my broken French, excused myself.  I stood up and began to meander towards the bathroom, the conversation fading from my ears.

   Melinda looked confused and Collette explained, again in French, "he is feeling a little left out, so I told him to go into the bathroom and masturbate.  Of course he is not allowed to come."

   Melinda looked pleased.  She turned to Travis, speaking briskly, and he followed suit, leaving the table to walk briskly to the bathroom.

   In the bathroom I found an empty stall and lowered my pants and underwear.   I was, as required, clean shaven.  I lowered my hand to my cock and began stroking myself.  My cock became hard, and I briskly masturbated, bringing myself to the edge of completion.  I struggled to remain silent as I stroked myself.  I heard the bathroom door open, my neck taut as I masturbated.  Reaching the pinnacle, I stopped, and pulled my hand away. Breathing heavily, I stood up and then quickly dressed.

   In the stall next to mine, Travis was performing an almost identical ritual of self-pleasing.

   I washed my hands and then dried them with the supplied paper towels.   My cock pressed against my pants, straining to burst free.  Blushing, I held my hand over my crotch as I walked quickly to our table.  I sat down quickly, glad to hide my erection from the room.  Collette noticed my discomfort and she passed the information on to Melinda.  They had become fast friends, bonding quickly, sharing their joint lifestyle.

   Turning to Collette I asked where Travis was. 

   "He is doing what you are about to do," she replied, "go do it again."

   Nodding, I once again excused myself, my erection leading me towards the bathroom again.

   I held my head down, my erection pressing against the front of my slacks.  I was ashamed that my penis was visible to the restaurants patrons, that my face was crimson, shining like Rudolph's nose.  I worked my way towards the bathroom, bumping into Travis as I entered the bathroom.   His head was held down and he mumbled a polite, "pardonez-moi," as he passed.

   "Sorry," I whispered, and he knew it was me.  Looking up, he caught my eye, and his face was as red as mine.

   I walked into the same empty stall and once again pulled my pants and underwear to my knees.  My cock burst free, it seemed to be oblivious to the embarrassment that was running through my mind.  I sat on the toilet and began to rapidly stroke my cock.  My hand became a blur as I stroked myself.  I shut my eyes, my hand urging myself towards completion.  Close, closer, stop.  My breathing was heavy, quick pants as I struggled to calm my raging desires.

   I gripped my cock and squeezed the tip hard.  My erection waned but did not fully deflate.  My passion ebbed, easing slightly.  I pulled my pants back up, my cock not as noticeable behind my pants.  Again I washed and dried my hands.  Returning to the table I found Collette and Melinda chatting as old friends, and Travis sitting silently, eating a snail, savoring the delicious treat as I had minutes before.  I sat back down and ate another of the tan delicacies again.  The taste was as wonderful as it had been moments before, bathing my tongue in rapture. 

   The waiter arrived with our meals, the smells drifting through the air to waft into our noses, the scent wonderful.  The waiter set down the tray of food and offered us our food.  He set a large platter in front of me.  A half chicken was resting in a thick red sauce.  A pile of rice and vegetables flanked the chicken.  It looked delicious and until it arrived I did not know how hungry I was.  My stomach grumbled, anxious to begin.

   The waiter delivered Travis and Melinda's dinner and then he set Collette's plate in front of her.  She had lobster, cooked in a French wine and butter sauce.   The sauce was thick, covering the lobster in a pink haze.  The waiter bid us a good dinner, or that is what I assumed, and turned to leave.

   Collette tasted her lobster, purring as the rich flavors exploded on her tongue.  "Oh my God," she exhaled. 

   "Good?"

   "God, yes."

   I pulled the wing off the chicken and took a bite of the warm meat.   The flavors danced on my tongue.  The chicken was exquisite, strong and delicious.  "Mmm," I mouthed through my clenched lips, chewing the delightful meat.  Travis and Melinda watched Collette and I with bemusement, smiling at our obvious enjoyment of our meals.

   We ate slowly, savoring each bite of the fabulous food.  Collette, Travis and Melinda chatted amiably as they ate, and I looked on at the exchange.  I could understand some of the words, most of them flying over my head.  I finished the chicken, looking upset that it was actually gone, it was that good.  I folded my rice through the thick wine sauce, coating it.  I ate that as well, sipping my wine as I dined.

   Melinda clapped excitedly.  I looked up from my plate at her, wondering what I had missed.  Collette noticed my confusion and whispered, "she has agreed to accompany us to Egypt.  Isn't that wonderful?

   "Yes," I replied, watching Melinda and Travis talk with obvious excitement.

   Collette returned to her guests, and they continued to speak about the yacht, the trip down the Nile, and the jet waiting our return.  Collette kept me apprised of the conversation, filling me in as the events warranted.  We finished our dinner, sipping wine and talking about the upcoming trip.  The waiter returned and we ordered desert, a fluffy French pastry filled with thick cream.  The pastry dissolved on our tongues, flaking easily, tasting heavenly.  Smiling Collette ordered six extra pastries to go, "for later," she smiled happily.

   We paid the tab and then with giddy laughter left the upscale restaurant.  The sun had set, the bright lights of the beautiful city shining brightly.  The air was warm, thick with moisture.  We walked two blocks, Melinda guiding us, towards the Seine.  We stood at the river, looking down at the gently flowing water.  Above us a stone bridge spColletted the river, leading deeper into the city.  I looked into the water, at the inviting river. 

   Collette and Melinda chatted while Travis and I remained silent.  Having never visited Paris, I was enthralled by just being there, not participating the conversation did not bother me as I reveled in my site-seeing.  Travis looked uncomfortable, appearing out of place as he stood there listening to Collette and Melinda discuss the upcoming trip.  Collette was beaming with pride, describing the yacht that we had yet to see.

   Collette motioned me to follow and we worked our way from the riverbank to the street.  We hailed a taxi and within minutes we were zipping through the tight streets back towards the airport and our awaiting plane.  The lights of the city illuminated the beautiful architecture, the Eiffel Tower standing like an idyllic backdrop to the scene.  We returned to the airport, Lydia welcoming us as we boarded the plane, greeting our guests as the perfect hostess.  Collette again beamed with pride.  

   Lydia served beverages to Collette and her guests, smiling cheerfully.  The pilot welcomed our two visitors and updated the itinerary, "we will be taking off shortly.  We have about a seventy minute flight to Cairo.  A limo is waiting to take you to the Port of Cairo where the yacht is making preparations to sail.  We have been cleared by the tower for immediate taxi."

   Lydia went around the cabin, making sure we were safely strapped into our seats.  Travis and Melinda continued to chat in French to Collette, complimenting her on her jet, and crew.  The plane lurched and began to drift slowly backwards.  The black tarmac slid by like oil, shining in the soft white glare of the jet's wing lights.   A man stood outside my window, shaking two orange-tipped flashlights, directing our departure.

   The plane turned and began rolling forward towards the runway.  We moved rapidly towards the runway, the pilot speaking in his deep baritone voice again, "we will be airborne shortly, Lydia, please take your seat."  She made one last look in our laps before walking briskly to her seat at the front of the plane.   The plane slowed, turned once again and then began to accelerate quickly.  We rolled along the black tarmac, moving fast.  The plane shuttered once and then began to climb into the dark French sky.  I heard the landing gear retract into the plane's belly.  The bright lights of Paris were shining brightly, looking like a dream out of the small cabin window. 

   The plane banked, the cityscape giving way to thin clouds.  We climbed higher until all I could see was an ocean of clouds lit by a shining moon.   It was a tranquil scene, the moon alone with us high in the sky, watching over us like a mother would guard her child.  A soft tone sounded and Lydia unstrapped herself from the lone chair facing into the cabin.  Once again Lydia served our drinks, asking if we would like something to eat.  We declined politely, and sat in silence as the plane raced towards the Egyptian coast.

   Lydia took a seat next to me as Collette, Travis, and Melinda began chatting excitedly in loud French.  She asked how dinner went and I relayed the story of how we met our guests, how I had masturbated in the men's room twice and about how I had mistakenly ordered cow brains.  She giggled at that, a gentle sound that hinted at an underlying softness.  I told her of how beautiful Paris had been even with our limited tour of the magical city.

   The plane banked and slowly began to sink from the sky.  Another tone sounded and Lydia excused herself to collect our drink glasses.  The lights below grew closer as we descended through the clouds towards the large expanse of Cairo below.   The lights were bright, reaching into the desert sands.  We sank from the sky, slowly, smoothly.  I watched as we crossed over the Nile, the dark river cutting through the land.  I spotted ships sailing on its dark waters and I felt a strong sense of anticipation.  We were almost there.

   The plane was quiet, everyone staring out the window at the river below.   The pilot announced our impending landing and bade us to buckle our seat belts.   Our passengers complied, Lydia took her seat, and Collette fastened her belt; mine was already affixed.  The airport loomed and then with a lurch and a loud screech the plane touched down.  We taxied to the terminal and spent an hour in customs before emerging from the airport.  We entered the waiting limousine, Collette sitting between Lydia and I, and Travis and Melinda sitting across from us in the comfortable chairs.

   The limo pulled away from the airport heading towards the Port of Cairo.  We were silent, the anticipation building.  After flying halfway around the world, we were almost there.  From days away to miles, from a dream to reality.  We turned towards the port, the seconds bringing us closer to the yacht that we had yet to see.

   We turned into the port and finally the limousine stopped at the gangplank that led upwards into the yacht.  Excitedly we left the limo to stand in amazement, staring up at the yacht.  The first thing to came to me was how big it was.  I knew it was going to be big, with a crew of over one hundred people, it had to be, but I was unprepared for exactly how immense it was.

   The limousine pulled away, leaving the five of us to stare up at the beautiful ship.  The ship was over two hundred and fifty feel long.  It rose six stories, spanning a width of sixty feet.  A large radar dome spun as it scColletted the sky.  A tall, musculature man descended the gangplank. He stopped to address Collette, "welcome, mistress.  I welcome you to 'Collette's Dream'.  You can rename her later if you like.  The ship is yours."

   Collette clapped excitedly and sprinted to towards the ship.  She raced up the gang plank to stand on the solid deck of her yacht.  Collette's Dream, she thought, yes, it is.  Collette's Dream, come true.  She stopped, waiting for the rest of us to walk up the gang plank.  "Captain," she shouted down, "would you give us the tour?"

   "Yes, mistress," he smiled.

   He escorted us to the front of the ship, the silvery moon shining down on us.  Thousands of stars watched as we worked our way to the bow.  We milled around on the hard wood deck, looking over the side at black water below.  We could hear the river lapping against the ship, caressing her hull like a lover's gentle hand.

   He began the tour, leading us from the bow into the foredeck.  The workmanship was exquisite.  Rich paneling lined the walls and plush carpeting adorned the floor.  "This is the main deck crew quarters," he explained, as we peered into the eight doors that spColletted the hallway. Each room was comfortably appointed with two beds and desks.  A soft chair sat unused at the desks.  In between the eight doors were two bathrooms each with a shower.  I smiled at the universal symbol that adorned the bathroom doors, the stick figures that represented men and women.

   This first area floored me, the reality of the ship finally reaching my conscious.  I had ordered it, had approved its design, but until now, as I walked within the huge ship, I had not realized that it was real.  It occurred to me that the yacht was more than just a pleasure ship as we continued walking aft, this ship was more like a cruise ship, only on a smaller scale. A typical yacht would not have crew quarters like this, shared bedrooms for the hundred or so workers.  The quarters were luxurious, comfortable and warm.  We continued heading aft, the hallway splitting as the corridor T'd.

   Turning left at the intersection we came to a shut hatch.  He opened the hatch, standing aside to allow us to pass.   Shutting the hatch behind us, we followed along the outer edge of the ship, heading aft.  Behind us, the corridor led back towards our starting point of this little tour.  We walked on the hardwood deck, arriving at a large expanse that spColletted from one edge of the yacht to the other.

   A large swimming pool dominated the opening, kidney shaped with a hot tub resting in the crook of the pool.  Collette squealed in delight, clapping her hands merrily.  Her enthusiasm was contagious, and the rest of us couldn't help but revel in her happiness.  Behind the pool were two large dressing area's, each adorned with the stick figure symbols we had seen earlier.

   On either side of the dressing areas a small staircase ascended to a small deck adorned with lounge chairs and tables.  It was a tanning deck, an area where the crew and guests could darken their skin.  Behind us, sandwiched between the two outlying hallways a single door stood.  The captain led us to this door.  We entered another hallway, plushly carpeted and lit with soft incandescent lights.  To either side a staircase ascended to the next level higher, two more staircases sank to the next deck down, leading aft.  A set of double doors opened up in front of us revealing a large, comfortable dining area.  In the back of the dining room two doors led into the kitchen.  Six large, round tables with seats for eight adorned the hardwood floor. 

   We looked around the kitchen at the stoves and sinks, cabinets and freezers.  The kitchen was well stocked.  A lone man wearing a white apron and hat bustled about the kitchen, preparing dough for some fresh bread and rolls.  He paused when we entered, looking up with a look of surprise on his face.  "Hello?"

   The captain stepped forward, "Jacques," he started, indicating Collette, "this is mistress Collette.  She has finally arrived."

   "Bon!" he shouted, the word bouncing off the walls, "welcome, madame, welcome.  I am making bread for the crew.  Would you like something, I can make anything, anythi..." he was speaking in a rapid tone, his accent thick. 

   Collette stopped him, "no, thank you, Jacques.  Perhaps later."   She was smiling, happy with the choice for the chef. 

   We turned to leave, Jacques turning back to his baking.  We worked out way back to the dining area and then back into the hallway.  The door leading to the pool stood in front of us.  We turned towards the stairs.  We walked past the first set of stairs that descended deeper into the ship, climbing the stairs that led higher instead.  The captain kept talking, speaking proudly of the ship. 

     At the next landing the captain showed us more berthing for the crew.  A hallway ran across the ship, leading to the opposite descending stairwell.  The stairway deposited us at the base of another staircase, leading higher to the next floor.  Two hallways ran aft, with six doors on either side of the long hallway.  There were 24 more berthing spaces on this level.  At the end of each of the long hallways another set of stairs ascended to the next level. 

   We climbed higher again, the captain chatting happily.  The plush accruements gave way to the utilitarian hardware of the ship. This level was designed for the daily operation of the ship.  Again there was a hallway running across the ship, leading to the stairwell that we had not climbed.  The cross hallway T'd, a single hallway leading aft again.  We took this hallway, the captain showing us the rooms that housed the radar equipment, the satellite phone equipment and a small room which housed the electronics repairman that would service the equipment.

   The hallway ended at another stairwell.  We climbed the stairs, coming to stand on the bridge.  The captain showed us the tiny, wooden wheel used to steer the ship.  Behind it was the radar indicator, the soft green sweep rotating rapidly.  Streaks of green indicated buildings and ships that were cruising the Nile at this late hour.  We each looked into the display, the captain explaining what our eyes were seeing.  He showed us the large buildings that served as warehouses on the display, then he pointed out the building through the large windows that spColletted the bridge.

   There were three phones that sat on the back wall.  I spotted some fire extinguishers and a first aid kit.  Steel shielded wire ran from the electronic equipment to different parts of the ship.  The bridge was not where the guests would normally visit, and so lacked the paneling and carpet of the previous levels.  It was more functional than beautiful.  Out the window the City of Cairo could be seen, bright lights shining in the dark night sky.

   Across from the captain's chair were three large panels.  There were sixty red lights sitting above an equal number of switches on each of the panels.  The lights had labels that read, lube oil low pressure, or, diesel exhaust overheat.  The three panels were obviously alarm panels for the various mechanical and electrical systems that ran throughout the large ship.   The captain explained that each of the systems onboard the ship fed the three annunciator panels, giving immediate information to any problems that may arise.

   The captain went on to explain that the alarms alerted the crew to a problem and allowed prompt attention to the faulty system or machine.  He informed us that half of the ships systems were automated, state of the art, and that they typically needed no human supervision.  "The alarms alerts us to a problem," he explained, "much like the 'low fuel' light in your car.  It illuminates and you immediately know that you need to refuel.  This is much the same."

   I wondered why he went through such a long explanation on the alarm panels.  Was he worried that Collette and I would think less of the ship because things may go wrong? 

   The captain led us out one of the two side doors of the bridge, to stand on an elongated deck that spColletted the width of the ship, passing in front of the bridge.   It was a observation deck where the crew could look out over the expanse of ocean or sea or shore. The captain, David McVeen, pointed down at the swimming pool and tanning deck.  The moon cast a soft pale light over the hard wood deck, the scene looking desolate in its emptiness.

   We paced from one side of the ship to the other.  Staring down at the black water as it lapped merrily against the side of the ship on the one side to looking down at the concrete pier that held us firm on the other.   The pool deck looked unused and lonely, the chaise lounges sitting empty.  The air was warm as it caressed our skin, a soft breeze tousling our hair.  The sounds of Cairo were loud in the darkness, reaching the ship in muffled tones.

   The captain escorted us back down to the pool.  He led us back to the set of stairs that had descended deeper into the ship.  We went down one of the two staircases and immediately Collette gasped.  While the upper floors had been soft and warm, they paled to the luxuriousness of this level.  The carpet was soft as grass on a spongy field as we walked on it.  Soft lamps burned brightly, feeding the walls in its warm light.  The paneling was dark and warm, the hallway reminding me of an old-fashioned study.

   He led us down the corridor the hallway turning to run across the ship.   We turned right into a exquisite dining area. There were two long tables running against the side walls and an additional round table dominating the center of the room.   "This is your dining chamber, mistress Collette," David explained.   Behind us a single door led into a food preparation area and from there he showed us an additional staircase that led up to the kitchen directly overhead.  "This allows only one kitchen to service both dining rooms while keeping the sounds isolated," the captain explained.  

   The food preparation area had a small center island.  Two microwave ovens sat above two small stoves.  The captain explained these were to keep food warm that Jacques had prepared upstairs.   There were six cabinets that held seasonings and grease and extra storage for the kitchen upstairs. 

   We turned and headed back into the dining room.  A large chandelier hung suspended directly above the round table, casting soft light into the comfortable room.  The captain led us back into the hallway, where we turned to begin walking towards the rear of the ship.  Another corridor spColletted the width of the ship where another hallway ran back to connect with the first.  It was like four corridors completely encircled the dining room.  The captain had mentioned sound isolation and I figured that the hallways of the ship not only provided access to the rest of the ship, but kept areas separate from others for comfort and isolation.

   We turned to the interconnecting hallway.  Two stairwell descended from the hallway at either end of the corridor.  In the center of the hallway a single door rested sitting behind the dining room.  David led us to this and Collette stopped in stunned silence.  The master bedroom was absolutely amazing, luxurious and comfortable.  A king-sized bed sat opposite the door, adorned in ivory satin sheets with a plush comforter.  The bed was pulled back, four pillows spanning the bed, each covered in their own satin pillowcase.  It was the bed of a queen.

   Collette crossed the room and plopped down onto the bed.  She spread herself out on the bed, twisting on the comforter.   She purred happily, enjoying the softness of the mattress and the warmth of the covers.  She wiggled for a few moments more, Melinda and Travis watching with a bemused look on their face.  David smiled warmly, happy in Collette's obvious delight.   I watched Collette revel in her new bed and was joyous.

   Collette climbed out of bed and looked into the walk in closet on the left hand side of the bed.  The closet was large, but empty. 

   "Captain," Collette began a soft smile playing at the corner of her mouth, "my closet is empty.  We will have to fix that.  Where can we sail too that fix that?"

   "The Mediterranean has wonderful ports, mistress Collette.  Perhaps to Italy?  Head to Rome.  Or France, CCollettes."

   "I will have to think about it," she smiled merrily.

   She shut the closet door and walked to the shut door on the opposite side of the bed.  Behind the door was a large bathroom.  A toilet sat on one edge with a stand-up shower next to that.  Next to the shower was a huge roman tub with beautiful silver fixtures.  Along the edge of the tub were six different bottles of bubble bath; fragrances like Apricot or Raspberry, or Tropical or White Gardenia.   There was a small basket holding matching fragrances of soap and shampoo to match the scents of the bubble bath.

   A large closet opened to reveal sets of towels and washcloths, bath robes and slippers.  The bathroom was fully stocked.  The room felt warm with the hardwood floor and floral wallpaper.   Subdued lighting lit the room, casting a soft glow along the walls.  The captain led us back to the bedroom.  We followed him back into the hallway where we once again turned to walk towards the edge of the ship.

   We walked down another set of stairs onto what the captain termed the "guest floor."  He showed us eight suites complete with queen-sided beds and walk-in closets.  Each suite had a small bathroom attached with a shower and commode as well as a double sink.  Each bathroom was fully stocked as well with soaps and shampoos, towels and wash rags.

   "There are about eight staircases I have not shown you," David explained.  "They lead below us to another deck with berthing for the crew.   Below that is the engineering spaces where the main engines and associated machinery reside.  We have a 25000 gallon per day deionizer, plenty of fresh water for all.  If there is anything you need, please, feel free to ask any of the crew.   We are here to serve."

   It seemed to me he put a lot of emphasis on the last word.

   He continued, "the rest of the crew arrives tomorrow morning.   We plan to set sail at noon."

   The captain entertained a few questions and then wished us a good night.  He turned and left the room.  Collette asked our guests what they thought of the ship and they were both highly impressed.   They expressed their delight on the craft.  We proceeded to walk upstairs where we sat around the center dining table centered in the dining room.

   We spent the next two hours sipping coffee that Jacques had prepared, an aromatic, delicious French Vanilla blend.  We chatted amiably, making a game of ports we would like to visit.  Greece and Italy and Israel and France, all were thrown up as a possibility and all were agreed upon with no argument.  We had a ship and we were not content to leave her sitting in port.

   As the clock spun around to the wee hours of the morning we decided to break up our conversation and head to bed.  We were all tired from the long day, Collette and I especially so due to the time difference between Egypt and the States.  Melinda and Travis wished us a good night and headed down the stairs to one of the guest quarters.   Collette and I walked across the hall and shut ourselves away in the master bedroom.   "It's beautiful," Collette smiled crossing to wrap her arms around my neck.   "Thank you."

   "You're welcome," I replied, slipping my arms around her soft waist.  We embraced in the subdued lighting of the master bedroom.  I lowered my lips and kissed her beautiful face.  My lips danced against hers, tasting the untold pleasures contained within.  Collette pulled me tighter and slipped her tongue inside my mouth.  Our faces merged, Collette slid her tongue roughly inside my mouth, her lips pressed against mine.

   She guided me to the bed, our bodies sinking until we were kissing passionately lying on the soft mattress.  Collette broke our kiss and sat up.  She gripped the bottom of my dress shirt and pulled my shirttail out of the waistband of my pants.  She slowly unbuttoned my shirt, undressing me.  She pulled my separated shirt apart and slipped the fabric off my shoulders.  She tossed my shirt aside and roughly unfastened my belt.

   She unhitched my pants and pulled down my zipper.  She grabbed my waistband and aggressively yanked my pants down my legs.  She was undressing me roughly, taking pleasure in the violent action of disrobing me.  She pulled my shoes off with my pants and then gripped the white cloth of my skivvies.  She pulled them apart, ripping them as she tore them from my body.  She was taking me, taking what she wanted from me.  She was passion, she was thunder, she was desire and she was fire.  Her body quivered in need, anticipation building as she straddled my naked body.

   She pulled up her dress and pushed her warm thighs against mine.  She pulled her gown over her head, her breasts heaving in delight.  She reached behind her and unfastened her bra, dumping the black lace to the ground.  Collette inched forward and pressed her panty-covered pussy against my face.   She began to push her cunt against me, rubbing her sex against my face.

   I extended my tongue and Collette stopped, "no!  Don't move. Don't do anything."

   My tongue sank back into my mouth.  She recommenced her pleasuring, rubbing her pussy against my mouth, my nose and my chin.  I was lying there, a receptacle for her pleasure, nothing more.  She continued to fuck my face, pressing her heated sex against my head, her thighs pressing against the side of my face.  She sat up and began rocking forcefully, humping my face. 

   I could smell her arousal, her scent becoming trapped in the moist cloth of her panties.  I struggled to breathe, her sex pushing against me, blocking my airway.  I gasped whenever she rocked backwards, pulling in a lungfull of sweet air, only to have that air held from me when she pushed her body forward again.  She humped my face, my breathing coming in hard gasps.  Her moans grew loud as she pleasured the soft folds of her pussy.

  She continued the assault on my face, rubbing her cunt with furious abandon.  Her throaty breathing became gasps as her orgasm swelled.  She gripped my hair, pulling my face into her sex, her hips rocking against my wet face.  Her breath came in hitching gasps, shallow and fast.  She groaned and screamed, her body a heated chord of desire.

   "That was wonderful," she breathed, her breath slowly returning to normal.

   I could smell her sex on my face, could taste her arousal on my tongue, "yes," I groaned in reply.

   Collette dropped onto the bed, spreading her legs wide.  "Eat me," she hissed, her eyes shut, her breasts rising with her aroused breathing.

   I shifted position, and kneeling, I crawled between her parted thighs.   Her sex was glistening with her juices, the lips swollen in desire.  I lowered my head and slowly licked up her leg, starting at her knee.  I could taste the sweat on her body.  She moaned in delight as I trailed my tongue higher, drawing my lips up to caress the soft folds of her pussy.  Her scent was intoxicating, and my cock pulsed in need.  I slipped my hands upwards and used my fingers to gently part her nether lips.

   My tongue slipped along the wet folds of her sex, my fingers holding her open to my caresses.  She moaned in delight, my tongue sliding through her parted lips.  Soft and warm, her lips gripped my tongue, her tight cavern opening to my probing caress.  Her hands dropped to grip my brown hair, tugging and guiding in heated abandon.

   My fingers shifted, spreading her wider.  My tongue darted inside her sex, probing deeply.  I held my tongue firm and slowly shook my head, moving my tongue as my face tickled the soft outer folds of her pussy.  She was moaning loudly, her body still aroused from her earlier orgasm spurred her towards the heightened bliss of another.

   Her fingers tousled my hair, tugging, pulling, guiding.  She pushed my face hard against her sex, holding my tongue planted inside her sex as her hips rocked heavily.  She was bucking in delight, another orgasm swelling as her body tensed.   She groaned and began shrieking, her body bucking.  Her breathing came in rapid spasms, her body burning in desire.  Her orgasm shook through her, her shrieks echoing in the room. 

   She dropped down and kissed my lips, her tongue snaking inside my mouth.  I kissed back, our lips merging in a soft display of adoration.  She pulled back and rolled onto her back. We lay side by side on the warm sheets, holding hands.  Our fingers intertwined, wrapping softly against the hand of the other.  Collette turned to me and kissed my cheek, "thank you.   The ship is amazing."

   "So are you."

   She smiled at me, "thank you."

   We quietly discussed the tour and the trip, reliving the flight, the dinner and the tour.  Talking softly, our hands tenderly caressing the skin of the other, we replayed the perfect day.  We chatted about the future, the places we would go and the sites that we would see.  Finally, as the sun peeked its head above the horizon we drifted off to sleep.