Improbable Moment
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Improbable History free porn video
*This story uses characters created for and owned by Jay Ward
Productions and is unauthorized.*
"Peabody here (dog genius), and this is my boy Sherman. Say hello,
Sherman."
"Hello," said Sherman. "Where and when are we going today, Mr. Peabody?"
"Set the Wayback Machine for Cairo, Egypt and the year 1916, Sherman.
We're off to visit Lt. T. E. Lawrence of the British Royal Army."
Sherman adjusted the controls and we stepped into the Wayback Machine
(my own invention, by the way) and in less time than it takes to tell it
we were standing outside Lieutenant Lawrence's personal quarters. I
knocked on the door and a voice inside bade us enter. We were soon in
the presence of the illustrious army officer.
"I say, chaps! How do I look?" Lt. Lawrence said. Sherman and I stood
there aghast at what we saw.
"You look lovely," I finally ventured to say. "Are you on your way to a
costume ball?" Standing in front of a full length mirror, Lt. Lawrence
was attired in an Egyptian belly dancer costume. It looked really quite
fetching on him.
"Well, no," Lt. Lawrence replied. "The higher-ups want me to organize
the Arabs into a guerilla fighting force to go against those blighters,
the Ottoman Turks. I figured this is the best way to attract those Arab
blokes' attention before I can pitch the sale. Watch this." The British
army officer turned the crank on a Victrola a few revolutions and set a
record to playing a lively Middle Eastern dance tune. He struck a
seductive pose and began to sway his hips and undulate his belly in time
to the drum beat. I could tell he'd had a lot of practice and acquitted
himself quite well in his performance. I thought about placing a
protective paw over Sherman's eyes but his glasses were already fogged
up so it was just as well. The lieutenant finished his dance routine
with a dizzying whirl and a spectacular split. Sherman and I applauded
appreciatively and threw coins of the local currency his way.
"That's not even my best material," said Lt. Lawrence as he rushed about
picking up the coins. "Just watch those wankers flock to me."
"I'm sure you'll get all the attention you could possibly want," I
replied, "but it's bound to be the wrong type of attention."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you're more likely to wind up as a sheikh's harem girl rather
than the leader of a guerilla force in a getup like that."
"That wouldn't be so bad," said Lawrence and his eyes took on a dreamy
look. He then looked guiltily at me and cleared his throat. "I, uh, see
what you mean. I guess I've wasted a lot of time and money on costumes
and lessons."
"Not necessarily," I said in an effort to console him. "Perhaps you
could do stag parties and smokers after you complete your main mission.
In the meantime, why don't you consider wearing something a little more
modest...and a little less feminine?"
"Jolly good idea! I have just the thing," Lt. Lawrence cried and
scurried behind a changing screen. In no time at all he reappeared in a
completely different outfit.
"Gosh, Mr. Peabody," said Sherman. "The Arab fighters will never accept
Lt. Lawrence as their leader if he dresses like that."
"I tend to agree with you, Sherman," I replied. The costume was
decidedly more modest but it was still meant as feminine wear. Lt.
Lawrence was dressed in an Arab woman's burqa. A burqa is a loose
enveloping garment that covers the face and body and is worn in public
by Muslim women. The only uncovered portion allows for the wearer to see
where she was walking.
"What's wrong now?" Lt. Lawrence complained. "This hides all my curves
and that will make it all the harder for me to recruit men."
"You should dress like a man," Sherman suggested.
"That's the logical solution, Sherman," I said, "but not necessarily the
correct one for Lt. Lawrence. It's obvious that our friend here has the
need to express his feminine side."
"You understand me perfectly, Mr. Peabody," said Lawrence gratefully.
"Then what's the solution?" said Sherman. "This seems impossible to
solve, Mr. Peabody."
"Not at all, Sherman," I replied. "I am, after all, a genius." I
consulted my watch. "We shall have to hurry though. I believe the malls
close early today." I persuaded Lt. Lawrence to put on his military
uniform and we hailed a cab which took us to the Three Pharaohs Mall
overlooking the Nile River. Just before entering the local Victoria's
Secret, I sent Sherman on another errand. Before long, Lt. Lawrence was
standing before the dressing room mirror in a lavender bra with matching
panties and garter belt as well as silk stockings and stiletto pumps. He
looked quite pleased.
"The thong takes a little getting used to, but I simply love it," said
Lawrence.
"Here's the other stuff you wanted, Mr. Peabody. Wowee!" Sherman
exclaimed once he got a load of our British friend.
"Steady there, Sherman," I warned. Lt. Lawrence merely grinned and
wiggled his hips at Sherman. "Now Lt. Lawrence, I have a few accessories
for you to try on." In another few minutes he looked like a fierce
Bedouin warrior.
"But now no one will be able to tell I'm wearing these lovely things
underneath," Lawrence complained.
"Exactly," I said. "Victoria has her secret and now you have yours." Lt.
Lawrence nodded with understanding.
"I shall always remain grateful to you, Mr. Peabody," the British
officer said. We last saw him riding camelback into the Sinai desert
intent on his mission.
"Lt. Lawrence was successful in his mission, wasn't he, Mr. Peabody?"
"He was very successful, Sherman. His forces harassed Turkish troops and
captured the port of Aqaba. This allowed British troops to land there
and surround the Turks. Ultimately the Turks were driven out of Arab
lands. It spelled the end of the Ottoman Empire. He rose to the rank of
lieutenant colonel."
"What happened after the war?"
"Col. Lawrence returned to England to great acclaim and numerous honors.
He also wrote a bestselling book based on his experiences called "The
Seven Pillars of Wisdom." Alas, he grew weary of his fame in England and
returned to his beloved Arabia where he opened an upscale butcher's shop
selling prime cuts of meat to oil-rich Sheikhs."
"I never heard that. What was it called?"
"Surely, Sherman, you've heard of...Loins of Arabia?"
Charlize
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