I stretched my arms up high over my head as I turned, posing in front of the full-length mirror. My new canary yellow bra and thong looked so good against my new golden tan, my pale brown nipples and freshly waxed pussy were both clearly visible through the sheer underwear. I sighed in satisfaction, poor Chris wouldn’t stand a chance when he gets a look at this little vision of pure eighteen-year-old sexuality.
Hearing the ‘bong’ of the taxi driver texting his arrival on my mobile, I slid into my little black dress, smoothing it down my thighs. I then slipped into my knock-off Le Boutain black stilettos. I quickly ran a brush through my shiny dark brown hair, the ends just flicking up over my shoulders. Satisfied with the result, I picked up my bag and tottered on my unfamiliar high heels down the marble stairway towards the front door.
“See you later mum, don't wait up for me," I cried to the open door of the TV room.
"Okay love, make sure you've got your phone with you. Let us know what you're doing," my mum replied.
"Okay, I’ve got it, see you later, bye,” I replied, as I left the cool of the villa into the hot and humid atmosphere outside.
I quickly walked the ten metres out of the gate to the cab, feeling pricks of perspiration already forming on my forehead. I hurriedly opened the front passenger door and jumped into the cool of the air-conditioning.
"Jumeira Towers please."
A short twenty-minute ride later, we pulled up in front of the magnificent entrance to the five-star hotel. I paid the forty-five dirham fare and gave him a five dirham tip.
He grinned at me and said, “I like you British ladies, so generous. I work all night, madame. Call me if you need a ride home.” He handed me his card.
Chris was waiting at the door; he was dressed immaculately in a white long-sleeved shirt and a pair of white linen trousers, he looked gorgeous. I felt a stirring deep in my tummy as I stared like a love-struck teenager at him. His recent tan contrasted beautifully with his white outfit.
He grasped my shoulders firmly and kissed me on both cheeks, then gave me a long lingering kiss on the lips.
"Erm, I hate to spoil the moment Chris,” I interrupted him, as I pulled slightly away from his embrace. “You do know that public displays of affection are illegal in this country, don't you?” I continued.
"Oh gee, sorry, I forgot. Anyway, it's a bit late to do anything about that now. You look fabulous, Jay. That dress really goes well with your tan. Would you like to go to Ray's bar for a drink, before we go to the restaurant?" He was flustered and jabbered nervously.
I loved seeing a grown man getting so obviously nervous, so adorable.
"Sure, that would be lovely," I replied, also a little nervously. I was still amazed that I'd netted such a good catch.
I’d never been to Ray’s bar before, but I’d heard it was fabulous. I wasn’t disappointed. The bar was just incredible; it was decorated in a contemporary, minimalist style and had wrap-around windows that gave views all over the city and along the corniche. Being so high up on the sixtieth floor; it induced mild vertigo in me. This sensation, for some strange reason, served to make it even more exciting.
Chris was about thirty-five; so almost twice my age, but for me that was just perfect. I just loved older men. Boys my age really didn't do it for me at all. In my limited experience they were fumbling, gauche and so inexperienced. Worst of all they didn't have a clue how to treat a girl. Maybe I had just been unlucky, but it seemed to me that they were always in a race to empty their balls as quickly as they could. That certainly didn't work for me. I’d found that sex with girls was a much more reliable proposition, at least they didn’t need constant directions and re-assurance of their prowess.
If I had to choose, my ideal man would have been my step-dad, Carl. Although he was quite old at fifty-seven, he had charm to spare. What he lacked in youthfulness, he made up for in his vitality and sheer exuberant sexuality. He exuded charisma from every pore of his skin. Most of which I'd seen. He was as careless about nudity as my mum. He frequently never bothered to dress when he walked from his bedroom to the room he used as his dressing room. He sometimes disdained even the use of a towel. I loved seeing him like that; the sight of his big cock swinging with each step, never failed to make me clench my thighs in lust at his negligent display.
Despite his advanced years, he was still in remarkably good shape. He had broad shoulders and a really manly chest. I also knew; having seen him naked so often, that he shaved both his chest and his genitalia. He was such a smooth and sexy temptation for someone like me, an over-sexed eighteen-year-old girl. A girl with uncontrollable sex hormones flooding through her body. I'd often used the mental image of his body, as fodder for my masturbatory fantasies. On many occasions I had imagined his strong hands pinioning me to my bed; as his hard cock plunged deep inside me, filling me with his hot come. Also, the thought of his come splashing over my belly and perky tits was more than sufficient to push me over the edge. Luckily, he had no idea of my taboo thoughts.
I looked across the table at Chris; he was just so lush, was the best way to describe him. He was about six-feet-two, which was an inch shorter than Carl. His tanned arms were smooth and muscular and covered with a fine down of blonde hairs. His chest; as I could see partly exposed by his open collar, also had a light covering of curly blonde hairs. I shuddered in anticipation of seeing more and thought of running my long scarlet lacquered nails across his bulging pecs. I imagined scratching my nails lightly down across his narrow waist and into his forest of blonde pubes and feeling them part before I stroked along the length of his erect penis. The thought of him jerking, as he felt my nails on its tumescence was intoxicating. Once again, I shuddered at the salacious thoughts, until I was awoken rudely from my thoughts.
"Jay, are you with me?”
I jerked back into reality. “Sorry, I was miles away, day-dreaming. I do that sometimes,” I replied, as a guilty blush suffused my face and neck.
“I was just asking if you'd like another drink here? Or, if you wanted to go upstairs to the restaurant now?"
“Let's go up to the restaurant, I'm starving,” I replied, my mind still full of my earlier thoughts and a definite feeling of anticipatory moistness already making itself felt between my legs.
The dinner was nothing short of fabulous perfection. The restaurant certainly deserved its exemplary reputation. We started with a bottle of Veuve Cliquot non-vintage champagne, my absolute favourite. Mum and I jokingly called it Vivo click, because she couldn’t master the pronunciation of the correct name. Bless her. I had a starter of seared asparagus and scallops and followed it with a wonderful dish of poached wild salmon, flown in fresh that day from Scotland. This was accompanied by a fresh and fruity Pinot Gris. Chris of course, ever the carnivore, started with calves liver, followed by a huge filet of beef. What a caveman! He was obviously anticipating the need to maintain his strength I thought to myself. He opted for a glass of rich-red, Australian Shiraz. Good choice, I love Australian wines too.
Neither of us bothered with dessert, instead, we skipped straight to a brandy for me and a single-malt for him. After conferring with the waiter, Chris stood, and like a proper gentleman, he pulled my chair back allowing me to stand. We left the table and were shown to the smoking lounge. I lit up my first cigarette of the day and Chris lit up a small cigar. This was something else that reminded me of my sexy step-dad. It seemed that uncannily, Chris was conspiring to do everything right to turn me on; I mused to myself, as we both relaxed in silence. We were both enjoying our respective smokes when the young Filipina waitress brought us our drinks from the dining room. The Louis XIII cognac was like an angel-kiss on my tongue. Before I’d finished my first glass, Chris ordered me another with a large twenty-five-year-old Macallan whisky for himself. I’d seen the drinks menu and couldn’t believe the prices. Our two drinks alone, cost more than a meal for four. He was really trying to impress. If he only knew? I was already smitten. He could have saved his money.
The combination of the pre-dinner champagne; wine with the meal and now two large brandies, were playing havoc with my senses. I was buzzing and I could feel what seemed like every nerve ending in my body. I needed something other than alcohol now. I needed an orgasm.
I turned to Chris and gripped his thigh a couple of inches below the distinctive shape of his impressive but still flaccid cock.
“If you feed me any more alcohol, I'm going to pass out; so if you'd like to fuck me, you'd better take me to your room right now."
“Then my room it is then young lady, it would be such a shame not to finish this wonderful evening with a bang," he quipped in reply.
Two minutes later we were in the lift; he punched the button for the fifty-eighth floor, then turned and put his arms around me. He pulled me firmly against his chest and covered my mouth with his. He dropped his hands down my back and gripped the twin orbs of my bum, pulling me hard against his growing erection. As he pulled up against my bottom; I could feel my labia spread apart and in so doing, I could feel a flood of my juices slide into the gusset of my thong. My arms circled his waist and I pulled him harder against me, mashing my sensitive tits against his chest. My tongue snaked into his mouth, tasting the tang of cigars and malt whisky. I nearly came on the spot, as I identified the distinctive tastes. It was so redolent of the smell of my step-dad and the strong almost overpowering sexual association.
Our frantic prelude to sex was interrupted by the gong, announcing our arrival at the fifty-eighth floor. Panicking slightly, I hurriedly tried to smooth the back of my dress down from where Chris had lifted it above my hips as he massaged my bum cheeks. My lipstick, so carefully applied earlier, was smeared all over my mouth by our short but rudely interrupted snog.
I looked in the full-length mirror in the lift and giggled. "God what a mess I look, it looks like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards."
Chris grinned, "That's nothing to what you'll look like in half an hour, if I get my way with you."
“Oooh sir, you're not going to take advantage of an innocent young maiden are you?" I asked coquettishly.
“Just you wait and see," he chuckled in reply.
Arriving at his room, he swiped his card and opened the door, he bowed deeply and ushered me through the doorway into his luxurious hotel room.
“Nice room, Chris. Just look at that view, you can see right down the Corniche, it's lovely."
I quickly crossed the expansive living room and wandered through the billowing drapes, out onto the balcony. As I stood at the rail, I felt him come up behind me.
“Not as lovely as you,” he said, as he circled my waist with his big sun-bronzed hands.
I leant forward over the balcony rail and felt Chris nuzzle my neck with his lips, his stubble scratched lightly against my skin. A charge of electricity flashed through my body, unerringly finding its destination in my tingling clitoris. I pushed my head back against him as he licked around my ear and then took my earlobe in his mouth, suckling it like an infant at the nipple. He pulled my hair back hard and licked and sucked my neck, raising goosebumps down my spine.
“Oh yes, Chris. That is so good," I uttered breathlessly. "But please, don't mark me. I'll never be able to explain how I got a love-bite, considering I'm supposed to be out with the girls tonight”.
“Yes, that wouldn’t be a good idea. Especially as a man twice your age is about to fuck you,” he agreed.
Once more, he gripped me by the waist and turned me to face him, our mouths met in a long languorous kiss. Our tongues mashed together and darted in and out of each other’s mouths. He stood back and looked directly into my eyes. Then, he reached up and hooked the tips of his fingers under the straps of my little black dress and slipped them off my shoulders. As he released them, the dress slid down over my boobs, past my waist, down my flanks, and pooled on the floor of the balcony around my ankles. This left me standing there in just my yellow bra and thong. My dark nipples and the freshly waxed lips of my pussy were clearly visible through the diaphanous material. His eyes devoured the sight.