Middle Eastern Mysterious Offering

Big Tits

Abu Dhabi had changed a lot in the past twenty years. Obviously, I had expected more marble, more glass, more glitz, but boy, they had outdone themselves. From the grand mosque to the monster shopping malls, it looked like the UAE capital had exploded to catch up with its sister Dubai up the coast once the sheikh had passed away.

Three nights, two days, one convention. Unbelievably cool air conditioning as a respite from the merciless heat, ridiculously luxurious bed linen to pamper the corporate guests. A 5+ star hotel, bedecked in finery, offering the finest in food, facilities and fripperies to entertain us when not ensconced in the convention.

Learning about new technologies, enjoying demonstrations, getting to play with new toys, breaking out to network, avoiding the rubber chicken dinners. Like most conventions, a great deal of effort had been put into making this different, all the while feeling like every other one.

Clients were here, so were suppliers, it being one of the three big industry events everyone, and I mean everyone, in the game attended. This was not my first year and, being by now a senior executive, I knew a lot of people. So it was more fun than work, more catching up than opening new doors, cementing relationships and helping my staff identify new ones for them. I was down to speak once and sit on a panel at another event so I knew I would have to be there for at least two days.

After my address, I came down from the stage and prepared to listen to the approaches of various people. About a third were congratulations from those I knew, a third were from those I didn’t and the last third tended to be from people trying to sell something. All part of the game so I engaged as best I could, sharing my time whilst trying not to keep people waiting.

She was hanging back but I noticed her as I scoped those all being patient for my time. Tall, maybe 5’11”, clad in a black trouser suit, delicate gold jewellery, long, black hair tidily flowing to one side and her ancestry shining through in the darkness of her eyes. She seemed to emanate a force, a vibrancy that I wanted to feel so I was curious to chat with her. I could speak pretty good Arabic by now but knew that this was not often required so waited for her to introduce herself when it was her turn after all the others had finished chatting with me.

“How do you do” she opened with, a slight accent on what I later learned was flawless English. We exchanged pleasantries and chatted briefly about my talk. I can honestly say it was a struggle to concentrate because this lady was extremely striking, especially close up. She had a slight hook to her nose which, on any other woman, would detract from her looks but it seemed to add to her allure. Intense without being draining, erudite without being verbose, she knew her subject matter and I was working hard to maintain my composure whilst chatting.

I wanted to find out more about her so explained that time was pressing and I needed to move on to the next event.

“Of course, I understand, it would be good to chat further”, she responded. I wanted some time to explore the story of this creature, reminiscent of a hawk crossed with a thoroughbred and breathing the menace of a tigress. I suggested we connect at the networking event later (one I usually avoided) and we could take a bit more time.

“Oh, I tend to avoid those events, I’m sure you understand”, she said, placing a hand briefly on my forearm. “To be honest, I think they’re dreadful, full of needy and desperate people. I’m surprised you go to them.” As she said this, her eyes twinkled and I could detect the first hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. Tell you what, why don’t I meet you after and we can chat elsewhere?”

She paused briefly, seemingly eyeing me up as if I was her next meal. “I’d like that”, she seemed, almost, to purr.

We agreed that the terrace area of my hotel was a good spot, her laughingly pointing out that if I bored her, at least the sunset was worth watching from there. I was amused and transfixed as this was unlike the usual professional conversation you get at these events and, also, bordering on the flirtatious.

About half an hour before sunset, I was waiting, a cold drink in my hand, having changed into some chinos and a linen shirt. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a flurry of movement and turned to see her approaching. She was about twenty metres away so I could observe her as she walked towards me. Standing, I noticed she had changed into a flowing, wrap around dress that seemed both to accentuate and conceal her curves. She was clearly athletic, gaziantep escort bayan slender, tall and graceful in equal measures and I was entranced by the dying sunlight bouncing off her lustrous locks.

We smiled, ordered drinks and got chatting. Sitting outdoors, enjoying the sunset, watching the sun set behind the mosque, enjoying our drinks. Pretty soon the conversation moved away from work and personal details were shared. I had been married and my children lived with my ex wife in our old family home in rural England. Her husband was a prominent Middle Eastern businessman who was away.

“How is he with you heavily involved in business?” I asked, curious and mindful of the cultural practices so powerful in this region.

“Well, there’s a couple of issues at play here”, she replied. “Firstly, my family business is quite large and I have been brought up to be a part of it, not apart from it. Secondly, I said I would marry him only if I could continue working. Therefore, we are one of the more progressive families here.” I nodded, thinking that this was rare and made me admire her more.

An hour passed easily and I was mindful that I might be transgressing some local custom so suggested that it was pleasant but that I shouldn’t take up any more of her time. She laughed, her hair flowing as her jewellery glinted in the muted, outdoor lighting.

“Please don’t worry. I am my own woman and am happy to keep company with my choice. However, you are right.”

I was disappointed but tried not to show it.

“You must join me for supper. You are on your own in this hotel and will be bored within five minutes. Come.” She stood up and held her clutch in both hands. I blinked and stood up, slightly surprised but rather intrigued.

We went through the hotel to the foyer and she asked the concierge to bring her car round. I was amazed.

A woman, with a white man, driving a car and taking him for a ride in front of everyone? Who was this lady and how powerful was she?

I didn’t dwell on the thoughts as a sleek sports car drew up. The driver got out and passed the keys to her, she looked at me with a half smile and a raised eyebrow and got in. I joined her, wrapped in the soft leather as the powerful engine thrummed gently. We drew away and pretty soon she was deftly steering the car along the Corniche and then into some of the more exclusive streets. A large villa loomed, she pressed a button under the dash and the gates opened, revealing a driveway leading up to a porticoed entrance, all lit by soft lights up both sides.

As we entered the house, I was struck by the art (discreet, tasteful and expensive), the marble (cool, restrained and gently patterned) and the design (open plan, achingly modern and pure white). She led me into the kitchen and made small talk whilst taking ingredients out of the fridge and making up what looked to be a delicious salad.

“Come through.” I think it’s fair to say she walked with a sway that made her hips look so grabbable as I followed her though to the rear of the house. Her terrace was built around a pool with a cabana style house at the other end and seemingly completely hidden from her neighbours’ view.

As we sat down, her next to me, looking down at the pool, she looked at me and said, “I want you to know, I’m not interested in your business.” So much was left unsaid that I didn’t want to jump straight in but I knew that wherever this might lead was not designed to influence my decisions on a commercial front.

We chatted a bit but pretty soon the salad was finished. I was disappointed because my time might end with this lustrous creature but she clearly had other ideas.

“One thing about my country that many love is the heat”, she said. “We have AC galore but I prefer to cool off in the pool. I wondered whether you would be interested?” To be clear, I wasn’t too hot but I would love to see her in a bathing suit but I knew I wasn’t prepared.

Again she laughed, stood up and said that there were spare shorts in the pool house.

“I’ll show you.” Her eyes weren’t leaving mine at this stage and I was mesmerised. There was I, in another woman’s home, about to undress and join her, separated purely by water. I followed her to the pool house and she flicked a light on as she entered. The pool house was not just a store, it had gentle AC, muted lighting, couches and, again, some more art.

She went over to a chest of drawers and opened the top one. I was feeling self conscious, standing behind her, watching her lithe physique bend slightly to reach the drawers. I couldn’t help but stare a bit at her ass and noticed what I hoped was no VPL. This made my cock twitch a bit but I wanted to stay in control so looked away. Unfortunately, what’s seen can’t be unseen, right?! Her ass was firmly in my mind and I could feel blood starting to flow to my crotch.

She turned and held up a pair of checked shorts. “These should fit”, she said. As she held them out, she glanced down, as if to size them up and I noticed her eyes widen a bit. She had clearly noticed my growing member and I blushed a bit.

As her eyes returned to mine, I noticed a sparkle of amusement in them. “I didn’t know swimming was so exciting for you”, she said, a hint of a smile cracking her sexy lips.

“Nothing to do with the swimming”, I replied. “You look fabulous in that dress and this would be a natural reaction. I’m sorry if it’s a concern.”

She paused, her eyes fixed on mine. Then she started to move forward, the hand with the shorts tossing them to the side to land on a small table. “Why should that be a concern?”

By now she was close to me, close enough for me to sense her heat, inhale her aroma, lose myself in her eyes. She wasn’t breaking the gaze and I was getting harder and harder with every second.

She started to bring her face closer to mine, until I could feel her breath. “Looks like you need some relief”, she said as her lips reached mine.

Soft, succulent, sensual, seductive, she knew how to use her mouth to kiss. I was lost in a flurry of sensations as her tongue gently snaked into my eager mouth and tousled, teased and tempted mine. I reached out with my hands to hold her hips, and if I was to be honest, more to hold on as sensations swept over me, rather than start to participate.

We kissed firmer and she pressed her body against me. I could feel her thigh gently parting my legs as it was pushed against my stiff cock, still trapped in my trousers. I couldn’t help but start to grind against her, which she began to match.

I could hear a subtle purring and realised she was making this noise in the back of her throat. I opened my eyes a fraction and saw her face, bathed in the dim light of the cabana, her neck arced to help her lips meet mine, eyes closed and eyelashes resting against her striking upper cheekbones.

She pulled her leg back slightly which disappointed me but then replaced it with her hand. I could feel her tracing the length of my cock with her fingers before grasping it through the cloth of my trousers. My hands dropped to her ass and I squeezed the firmest and tenderest backside I’ve ever been blessed with. Her chest was squeezed against mine and I could feel the soft press of her breasts, rising and falling with her increasingly deep breaths.

She was rubbing my cock in a regular motion and it was feeling good. Too good. But I didn’t want it to stop. I pulled back from kissing her and her eyes fluttered open. I grinned and said, “That’s amazing.” She half smiled at me and, without saying anything, reached for my zipper.

I could feel the teeth of the zipper release as it slowly lowered. My cock was so sensitive I could have felt a mosquito fart at forty paces but this was incredible. Her delicate fingers felt their way into my trousers and then past the entrance of my shorts.

As her hand encircled my cock, I couldn’t help but gasp slightly. She smiled a bit more and then rubbed her thumb over the head. I groaned gently as I felt the precum smear across my head. She freed my cock and I felt a mixture of slightly cooler air from the AC and the warmth of her hand as she slowly continued to rub it.

She looked into my eyes and took her hand off it. I was disappointed and it clearly must have shown in her eyes as she raked a fingernail from the base to the top. I shuddered with pleasure as she said to me, “You’re my guest but there must be rules. I’m sure you understand.”

I’ve been in some pretty tough negotiating situations before but this one took the biscuit. There was I, ready to burst, a hair’s breadth away from exploding, and she was now setting terms! I had to stop myself from signing away the house, the pension fund, my first born.

“Go on”, I said, grateful that some negotiating skills hadn’t left.

She half smiled and said, “You know I’m married so there’s some things that are off limits. However, I do believe in proper hospitality so you must allow me to help you feel better. Is that reasonable?”

My mind was swirling, the blood was roaring in my ears and here I was, standing in a luxury, private pool house, holding the hips of an incredibly sensual beauty, her hand on my cock and me desperate for release. She had me and she knew it.

“Of course”, I replied and, remembering some early advice from a very wily mentor, thanked her for the opportunity and what a pleasure it was etc etc. Or something like that, I’m not completely sure.

She unbuckled my trousers and gently pushed them off my hips, followed by my shorts. Her fingers grasped my cock and with the other hand she reached up to her mouth. She buried her four fingers and then brought them out, glistening with saliva. She looked into my eyes as she lowered her hand to my cock and smeared the saliva all over the head and shaft, mixing it with the precum.

She let go of my cock, pushed me slightly so I released her hips and reached down to grab the front of her dress. Remember how I said it was wrap around? Her hand pulled the top layer to one side and her other reached under to part it fully. Briefly she stood before me, dress held apart and I glanced down.

She had incredible legs, elegant, lithe, athletic. They met at the top where they were crested with a delicately shaped triangle of pubic hair, trimmed and neatly proportioned. I could feel a lump in my throat and my cock twitched. This time her smile was wider but she said nothing.

She turned and I felt a wave of disappointment.

But then she leant over and flicked her dress so it hung down one side from her hip, with that perfect ass on display.

She looked over her shoulder at me, hair falling across one eye and wordlessly beckoned me closer. I didn’t know what to expect but then she reached back with one hand and found my cock. She pulled me gently forward and I placed a hand on her hip.

She was steering my cock to her but not to where I expected. I felt her pull the head of my cock against her puckered hole and she pushed back slightly. I realised I had no control over this, such was the grip she had on my cock, the pressure she was exerting, so I let her be in charge.

Her other hand reached back and pulled her buttock away and I could feel the head of my cock start to enter. Her head was lowered and her back was slightly hunched over as she got the angle right. I felt the pop of the head of my cock enter and she held it there. I could hear her breathing deepen and I reached to stroke her graceful back. All the while, her sphincter was relaxing and I could feel the grip on my cock becoming more comfortable.

I was holding myself stock still, very much taking her lead. She reached round to the front with both hands, grasped the chest of drawers, arched her back and started to push back against me. As I slid into her, I could hear a slight grunt from her but was lost in the tight grasp she had on me. Her ass felt amazing, so tight, so firm, so warm, so very wrong to be doing this but so fabulous in equal measures.

She pulled forward slightly and then pushed back. I felt the entire length of my cock enter her until my hips were firmly against her ass. She paused, took a breath and then started to fuck me. I cannot describe it any other way. My cock was there for her to ride. She set the pace, she set the pressure, the angle and tempo – everything.

My hands were on her hips, trying to match her thrusts but this was feeling amazing. I knew this wasn’t going to be the longest fuck I’d ever had but, by God, I wanted to enjoy it all.

Arched before me was an Arabic tigress, a perfect figure dedicated to riding my hard cock, deep in her ass. Her light brown skin glowed in the light and I could feel sweat forming in between my shoulder blades. I could hear her grunting with each thrust and it was sending me over the edge. One of her hands snaked between her legs and I felt her nails grazing my balls. That was it, way too much, way too good.

I pulled myself into her, hard, once, twice, on the third time I felt my cum race up my cock and jump from the end. I throbbed as gush after gush flowed from me, at least seven heavy spurts, followed by ripples of sensation as further cum flowed more gently.

I was buried deep in her, my cock twitching through the last spasms of my orgasm, her head slumped slightly and her hands returned to the chest of drawers. She waited for me to catch my breath and I slowly pulled my softening cock out. With a slight plop, I could see the head followed by the glisten of a drop or two of my cum, following it out. I was spent.

She softly stood up and her dress fell down, covering that immaculate ass that I knew was leaking my cum. She shook her hair slightly and turned to me. I reached down to pull up my trousers and she raked a nail down me jaw.

“Thank you”, she said. I struggled to stop my jaw from yawing agape at this as surely I must be thanking her. “It’s important to care for guests and you let me. For that I am grateful.” Her eyelids drooped and those dark pools of glory looked down.

My mind raced as to how I could ever be her guest again.

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