Saul from the Books of the Protectress

Resting in comfort Saul appreciated the quiet that descended inside the aircraft. He guessed that everyone had turned in for the night. The bed was comfortable. He stared out at the moon through the port hole. It floated over the clouds occasionally casting its silver sheen over the ocean. He felt at peace. Finally sleep came.

Saul awoke with a start. Someone had covered him in a wool throw. Glancing at his watch only three hours had passed. He still felt sleepy, but he could hear music coming from some place in the aircraft, soft and lilting. Opening his cabin door, he padded barefoot into the main cabin. Lights had been dimmed. Peering down the long corridor past cabin doors, he saw a sliver of light outlining a partially closed cabin door. Moving in that direction the sensual syncopation became clearer. This was where Aisha said Meretneith’s cabin was.

Silently pushing it open, he slipped inside. Sheer drapes divided the entrance from the room beyond; he could see the shadow of a female form slowly undulating to the sultry beat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Saul carefully parted the drapes. The dancer was Meretneith. Full hips were swaying gently to the beat of the music. Each of her movements flowed with the melody, pausing in step then anticipating the syncopation in beat. He saw a beautiful bareback narrowing to the tight muscled curvature of her spine. Fine white gauze of linen wrapped smooth hips then tied at the waist. Nude from the waist, taunt sinews were deeply defined in shoulders and arms moving above her head. Within her hands flashed long blades. The movement of the blades created arcs of silver in the dark room. Their ornate hilts firmly grasped in each hand.

Saul was mesmerized. The beat of the music began to increase its speed lending heat to her movements. Her torso began its undulations not unlike the moves of a belly dancer. He could see beads of sweat began to drip down her back and pool at the hollow of her spine. Legs stretched far apart she squatted stretching out one leg bringing the blade over her head, holding the position for two counts she duplicated that effort to the other side. The sheer gauzy fabric became soaked with moisture from her body, clinging to every smooth curvature. Becoming aroused, Saul shifted his position slightly and she stopped still. Turning quickly her eyes bored down on him in the darkness, her head lowered.

Saul didn’t know what to do or say. Approaching slowly he offered her time to react to the intrusion. She held her ground, saying nothing, her stare not faltering. The sweat coating her skin held it to a rich sheen, her breasts rising and falling in deep inhalation. He reached out to stroke her arm, and then fingered the waves of wet hair. His eyes travelled over her. Both hands entwined in her hair, he brought his lips to nestle in the hollow of her neck. With clear purpose, his tongue began to lap gently the sweat that trickled down the nape of her neck. At first she remained motionless and then moving close, allowed her lips to pressed the hollow of his neck, inhaling deeply. Then in a very low voice she spoke,

“Not now Saul. Our time will come. Go back to your bed.”

Saul felt a chill run through him. He felt like a schoolboy. The heat and the scent of her were so close. The disappointment was deep. His head was still feeling light from the scotch. Turning her back to him, she carefully placed the blades in their racks. Extinguishing the music, she turned to face him again.

“Perhaps while we’re in London we will have the time to pleasure each other. I want you as much. But for now good night Saul.”