Black and red

Chapter 5

Black and Red

Jon

I drive Dubai´s streets in my brand-new Hyundai Azera. I bought this car at a car fair as soon as I arrived. Aziz Kumar Al-Hashidi is my closest contact in the Emirates. It's all his fault that I bought a Hyundai. I needed a car, nothing too flashy, but this black sedan with tinted windows got my attention. It felt like it was saying, "take me." Just like Samira. As soon as I got into that car, I felt at home. I expected to feel the same with the dancer. I can't help but smile slyly, a mischievous idea dancing in my thoughts!

"Jonathan, you're not worth a penny...." an ex-girlfriend would say. And she was right. By feminine standards of romance and such things as relationships, I'm worthless. And I don't even want to be valued in that way. Nowadays, I need to sign “dating contracts” to protect myself better from women. My only problem is that I don't date, and that's why Aziz Kumar was so important when it came to finding a cheap girl. Three thousand dollars was a bargain, and she accepted it immediately. Well, not exactly immediately; she still needs to text me. If I'm doing business in the Sheik's country, I need to present a beautiful girl and not a woman similar as a whore. I still remember how Aziz didn't even question my reasons for meeting the girl. He just sent me everything he knew about her because he liked to screen the girls he thought of presenting to the Sheik. Simple as that. And once she had a reputation for being hardworking and drug-free, she was the perfect girl for me...

I drive faster and hear the engine roar. It's delightful how that beauty glides on the city's perfect roads. Just like I love sliding my hand along a girl's curves gently. I'm already comparing cars and girls; I must be really hungry for a good f*ck. I see the city's most expensive strip club and park my car. The good thing about this city is that you can leave your brand-new Hyundai parked at the door of any dive, and when you come back, it will still be there. One of the advantages of a city like this. In London, you can't always count on that luck.

I lock my car, adjust my suit and mess up my hair a bit so that I don't look too well-off. I don't like paying a lot for cheap sex. And cheap sex means a drunk girl or a girl who wants to get drunk, drugged, or wanting drugs. I don't pay for any of that.

I pay my entrance fee in cash. I don't want them to track my name through my cards; I'm a bit suspicious about security. But as soon as I enter, I notice that the place is large and beautiful. All in black and red, which, according to the study of colors, are said to stimulate appetite and libido. I've studied a bit about how colors can affect the brain. I'm a builder. I design buildings and love colors. I've learned a bit about how to stimulate hunger, libido, calmness, and other emotions. But the black attracts me out of curiosity. Everything hidden under veils, everything concealed. The night enchants me, black veils, black suits, black glasses, black decorations. And there, in that place, black was present.

I sit at one of the tables to watch the topless dancer doing pole dance. She's beautiful. It arouses my appetite, but not enough. It's annoying how that woman shaking her ass at the inauguration party of my company turned me on more than a pair of bare breasts. I scan her from the hair to the rounded and pink nipples. Someone approaches.

"Sir, this is the menu of the house. Feel free to choose. I'll be right here next to you, just raise your hand," a beautiful black woman serves me two menus.

"Thank you. I wanted to know how..."

She interrupts me as if she knew what I was going to ask.

"I suggest you look at the menus first, sir, and then ask me anything you need. I'll be right here."

Her voice is gentle, and it makes me shut up. Okay, I'll look at what's on these menus. She moves away, and as soon as I open the first menu, I see a variety of drinks and fine snacks that you can only find in Dubai. I glance through the menu and close it to pick up the other one. The second menu has a belly dancer on the cover with nothing written. I open it and widen my eyes. It seems my instincts brought me to the right place, but it was also recommended by some English acquaintances in Dubai. What I had no idea about is that the menu lists girls in order of prices, what they do, ethnicity, and even hair color. But can I trust that? I raise my hand. It doesn't take long for the attendant to show up.

"Yes, sir? Did you look at the menus?" She is discreet and dresses like a barwoman.

"Yes, I did. Is Hadija available?"

"They all are, sir."

"How do I proceed?"

"Please follow me."

Everything is very discreet. She speaks softly and acts like a butler. I get up and follow her. How can I not notice the well-endowed buttocks of the attendant? I'm already hard in my pants. I could fuck the wall! So, she leads me to a black room with only one bed, red.

"Wait here, sir, I'll bring the girl and a credit card machine."

"No."

She stops and looks at me curiously.

"I don't use credit cards in some places; I pay in cash."

"Okay, it's two hundred dollars in advance for an hour."

I think about it. What would a cheap girl like her do with me for more than an hour? One hour is enough for me to c*m and go.

"Okay."

I reach into my wallet and hand her two hundred dollars. She looks me up and down, smiling like a slut. Oh, darling, if you want to join in, I won't pay extra! The show is free.

"Alright, I'll be right back."

I believe no one there has ever used cash. I don't think they even know what that is. Nowadays, people only use credit cards, disposable or not, and transfers. I sit on the bed and adjust my jacket. What am I doing? I'm about to devour a prostitute, and I'm adjusting my jacket? I decide to wait for her to arrive. We never know...

It takes about five minutes, and the blonde girl I saw in the photo enters the room. She's a little shy and gives me a silly smile. She must have 23 or something. I should be ashamed or feel pitty, but I don't have time to fix the world tonight. She approaches in lingerie.

"Good evening, sir?” She wants to know my name.

"J."

"J? Just J?"

"Exactly."

"So, what do you want to do with me?" She twirls her hair around her index finger and bites her lips, as if she's feeling something. I know she isn't.

It's all a cheap act, and I hate that.

"I prefer to show you."

I grab her wrist and throw her on the bed; she lets out a little scream. Then I climb onto her body and observe her mouth closely. I know she's from Eastern Europe. That's the worst part. But I try to focus and give her pleasure beyond her work. I notice her smooth skin, so I slide my tongue up to her bra, where I begin to pull with my teeth until her rigid breast pops out. I suck eagerly, holding both of them firmly in my hands. I hear her gasp. Hadija puts her hands inside my jacket to undress me. I allow her to do so, just grabbing a condom before letting her take off my clothes.

While I'm focusing on her breasts, I slide my left hand down her abdomen to her intimacy. There, still wearing her panties, I fill my hand and squeeze her flesh. The girl moans as if she didn't expect that. I press her entrance over her panties, and it's so small that it fits entirely in my hand.

"Oh, my God..." She moans with her half-Russian accent.

I lift my body and kneel on the bed to open my pants. She helps, seeming to be in a hurry.

"Are you in a hurry to fuck?" I ask. "I won't disappoint you."

"It's not that; it's just that you're very handsome."

I can imagine. The old men who go there must make her sick. But I intend to give her the best hour of her week. Finally, I show my hard and hungry c*ck that's been waiting months for this. I suggest that I want to be sucked.

"Suck me delicious, now."

The dominant me comes out. The desire to tie her up is enormous. I need to restrain myself. But there are some things I can ask if they're allowed.

"Can I tie you up with my tie?"

"Yes, sir, but don't force me into anything, or I'll scream," she threatens.

"You won't need that."

I pull my tie from my jacket as she almost swallows my co*k without any skill. I need a woman who enjoys what she does. Urgently. Hadija doesn't know how to handle the man I am. In just a few minutes of watching her lack of skill with my member, I decide that she needs to be tied up, satisfying my thirst for domination. I tie her wrists with my tie and make her lay down again. I tie it tightly, and she complains. Then, without thinking, I insert my fingers into that dry and tight hole and skillfully handle her most sensitive spot. I know exactly where the G-spot is and reach it for her delight. But seeing her tied up, surrendered to me, is also my delight.

"Don't c*m" I say imperatively, and she blinks several times, looking at me.

Hadija trembles, moans, releases her muscles, trembles again. The girl gets very wet. I know she's close to climax, and I won't allow it. I put on the condom and enter the field. I thrust forcefully and deeply inside the girl until she comes. Her legs tremble, her abdomen trembles. I'm satisfied, for now. Once again, I focus on her hard nipples as I start to climax. What a delightful sensation... It must have been invented by the devil to last so little... Seconds later, I'm satisfied and lie down, looking at Hadija. She looks at my trembling chest, panting breath, and the few hairs I have there. A smile is on her face. I know that night she didn't have to deal with an old man who can hardly get hard. I know that night she was happy for an hour, and I was too.