Last year my wife and I went to Egypt for the first time. The tour operator advised us a five star hotel in Sharm El Sheikh. For several days we simply did not get out of the Red Sea, enjoying its beauty. An interesting discovery awaited us on the TV screen in the hotel room ... my wife turned out to be very similar to some Egyptian TV star who was shown on TV from morning to night (my wife is quite high - 1.75 m - a burning brunette with big with green eyes, a bust of the 4th size, a narrow waist, an appetizing booty and thirty years old). Her name turned out to be symbolic for the Egyptians - Natasha, - so there (as in Turkey) all Russian prostitutes are called, so I once again tried not to call her by name. So, having studied the hotel far and wide, we, gathering good advice on how to bargain, went to the Old Town (the big bazaar in Sharm el-Sheikh). On Natasha that day there was a skirt with a large slit on the side and a knitted thin thread blouse in a small hole. At the bazaar, Natasha made a splash ... the arrogant and annoying sellers climbed out to greet us, told me that I had a very beautiful wife, she was weighed tons of compliments (moreover, in Russian), and dragged us into every shop, even if there was nothing for us it was not necessary. Visits to shops traditionally ended with photographing. They were photographed in different ways ... first I dressed in a Bedouin, then Natasha put on something national Egyptian and took pictures with sellers who, casually, with jokes, jokes, put their hands under her skirt, then under her bra. First, Natasha resisted, then we realized that the longer you resist, the more time you waste. Therefore, we wearily turned to compromise.

In one shop, Natasha liked the national Arab dress made from material, such as a large mesh, and embroidered with national patterns. A caring salesman pulled this dress on top of her clothes, not forgetting to accidentally take over my wife. But on top of the clothes, the new thing was bristling and it was not clear whether it fits in size or not. Natasha only slightly let slip that we should take off her clothes to try on the dress, as the seller covered her shop in an instant (so that the visitors would not interfere) and began to help her with her undressing. Immediately there was an assistant seller, who sat me down to the table in the next room, brought a cold karkade and a hookah. Carried away with a hookah, I did not notice how it was already about fifteen or twenty minutes - my head swam and then Natasha appeared in some kind of obscenely transparent dress in tight, which she was at least two sizes smaller. The seller ran after him and read that he would find the right size now. The wife was annoyed ...

- They already got me! I have already measured fifty dresses! I don't like them at all! I did not want to measure them!

The sellers, realizing that the case was taking a scandalous turn, asked me to take a picture of them with my wife in turn, after which they promised a good gift. To put an end to this story, I took three pictures with each of them (since their imagination is not different, the scenarios were the same) ... on one - the Egyptian hugs my wife and holds my chest, the second - hugs and holds ass, on the third - Natasha sits on his lap, and his hands somewhere above the knees. After photos, Natasha finally returned her clothes, she already wore a blouse, wanted to wear a skirt, as one of the vendors came with an armful of denim shorts ...

- And here is the gift that I promised ...

I look at Natasha's eyes lit up ...

- Similarly, a gift or money you want?

- A gift, a gift ...

“I had to start with this,” - the wife began to rummage around in a pile of shorts, - “We should try on them ...”

- Let's go in time, let's go ... over there, behind the screen.

The seller and my wife disappeared behind a screen. Natasha stood and only lifted her legs, the seller did everything else for her ... put on and took off her shorts, buttoned them up, brought a mirror. The process has already dragged on, I lit it. Accidentally drew attention to a large mirror, standing in front of my wife. In the reflection, I clearly saw the seller pushed my wife's panties to the side and finger fucks her. And Natasha does not resist, but on the contrary ... slowly moves her ass to the movement of her finger and spread her legs wider. I was at a loss and lit a second cigarette. Then he could not resist ...

- Natasha, are you there soon?

- I'm already coming ... - Natasha pushed the seller away, straightened her panties, got dressed and went out, victoriously holding in her hands new shorts.

Natasha did not say anything about what was behind the screen, and I decided that now is not the right time to sort things out. We went to an open restaurant, had a snack, drank some kind of alcohol, smoked a hookah ... I don't know why, but in Egypt the roof just goes ... the eternal smell of hookah, a constant feeling of intoxication and unreality of what is happening. So in the restaurant, I even became excited, over and over again scrolling through what happened to my wife ... some kind of shop, some kind of dirty salesman who was pawing my wife, and, in fact, fucked her right in front of my eyes ... my wife is not the last people in his homeland, this in Russia with us simply could not happen. And here everything is so casual ... It was getting dark, and we thought to finish shopping, but it turned out that the market was open until one o'clock! But we were already pretty tired of the increased attention to our people (first of all to Natasha) and decided to visit a couple of shops and home. The first shop where we shoved was closed, but the light was on there. We had already departed, when a heated seller jumped out and actively led us inside. It became clear why the shop was closed ... there were four Egyptians sitting on a sofa, and an absolutely naked girl of nineteen was sitting on the lap of one of them. Her eyes were drunk. Seeing us she was embarrassed ...

- Everything, I will go. You have already photographed me. Give me the clothes ...

“Sit down, do not twitch,” one of the Arabs said softly, but weightily.

The girl took turns squeezing, kissing ... When we left the shop, she was put on all fours, and the seller closed the door behind us.

What I saw shocked not only me. Natasha with a lustful smile spoke ...

- Yes, Sharm El Sheikh is a city of contrasts.

The next entrance to the market pavilion turned out to be a fork in several shops ... I was brought to the souvenir shop, and Natasha found herself in a clothing store. After seeing the souvenirs and talking to the seller, I went to get my wife. When I entered, she pulled her skirt up and told me in a half whisper ...

- I've looked at this awesome handbag! She is dear, but I’m strangling, you just do not pay attention, drink until hibiscus ...

I brought karkade and hookah. Moreover, the hookah was clearly charged anasha. The second seller as much as possible distracted my attention by talking and shoving me all sorts of trinkets. And even though I'm under the influence of a hookah and excitement finally floated corner of my eye I saw my wife talking animatedly with a second vendor, which is more like a nigger than Arab. Such a healthy, stout ebony with flipped lips and huge hands. He insistently suggested that Natasha go with him to some sort of utility room ... the negro opened the door several times - there was twilight, there were piles of bales and there was a wide bed (apparently this room sometimes served as a bedroom). But my wife strongly resisted, after which the Negro kissed her passionately and fumbled under the skirt. Then he again offered to go to the back room, but his wife again refused, and so several times. Then they agreed on something ... the Negro sat on the sofa, and his wife stood facing him, spread her legs, lifted her skirts up and pushed her pants down. Paws Negro reached there, I realized that it was ...