As some of you know, I’ve been off on vacation. Egypt is lovely, and I enjoyed roaming around the ancient temples and pyramids. Part of the trip involved taking a train from Cairo to Luxor.
The moon was nearly full as the group of us waited at the station for our train to come in. My girlfriend sat beside me on one of the few benches, with our lugagge piled in a heap at our feet. The locals, mostly men, stared and made a variety of amusing comments. Our heads weren’t covered, our shoulders were exposed, and some of us had low-cut shirts on. The evening warmth and the vague scent of the desert enveloped everything. I pulled her close and whispered what I’d like to do to her once we were onboard. I’m pretty sure at least some of those things could have gotten us arrested had we been caught – or, as tourists, at least in some degree of trouble.
Once we got settled into our room, dinner was served. It wasn’t spectacular, but I had stashed a few granola bars in my backpack. We had a sleeper car, and while the beds weren’t really big enough for two people to sleep on, they were certainly big enough for two people to be intimate. While some of our group wandered off to the club car for weak drinks and dancing, we stayed in our room. She put on her black satin nightie with the ivory lace – my favorite, and I put on my new burgundy satin nightie. The rocking of the train in motion set a rhythm, and we spent the night watching the sand speed by the windows while our fingers were entangled between each other’s legs.