One of the Sultans had a harem of nearly 500 women. A local labor organization was trying to organize them into Harem Workers Union Local Number 1. My mission was to stop this perverted scheme before women everywhere began going on strike. My contact handed me a case containing some tools I might need, and a temporary assignment as ambassador. I really enjoyed assignments where I played the part of a government official because in most countries such men can do anything they want with impunity.

The driver pulled up to the air terminal. I was flying on an Arab airline and they were all ready with their best service in anticipation. My dick was already starting to twitch in anticipation of what was in store. Each time I couldn't help but indulge my curiosity in seeing just how far I could go before someone got upset. As I walked into the terminal building some kind of airline official greeted me telling me that I didn't need to bother with buying a ticket or any security check. He ushered me into a small waiting room directly behind the ticket counter and explained that the moment the flight is ready I will be put on first. On his way out he told all of the girls at the ticket counter to get me anything I might need.

This secluded room wasn't exactly Disneyland. I soon decided that I would have to take matters into my own hands. I cracked the door open and called to one of the women at the ticket counter. She was a bit heavy in the thigh, but from what I could tell through the airline's business suit costume, she was fairly well stacked. She quickly stepped away from the counter and entered my chamber. "Sir?" she spoke the only word she probably knew in english and averted her gaze to the floor as was customary of a servant.

I took her wrist and led her to the small table in the center of the room. She looked puzzled but stood obediently where I had positioned her. I decided to test the waters before diving in, so I began unbuttoning her white uniform shirt. Her eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. She began to speak, but cut herself short at the first sound she uttered. After this she closed her eyes and left her hands at her sides. She trembled a little as I pushed her shirt back revealing her soft golden shoulders. Her beige bra looked like it was purchased war surplus. It was not a thing of beauty, unlike the orbs that it had the privilege of containing. I'd seen this model of bra before on a woman that was a 36D, but that one was a lot smaller than what I now had before me. These were truly world class globes.......(cont)