Proposal in Dubai

Chapter 3

Proposal in Dubai

Jonathan

All I need tonight is a hot shower and a peaceful, comfortable night's sleep in the king-sized bed I chose. However, today it is not possible because I have to attend the damn opening party of my own company. I opted for a cheap decoration just to please the old men who are going to drool over the belly dancers I hired for a presentation. It is a common habit of Dubai culture to have this kind of entertainment. It doesn't matter if there's a great inauguration cake or people hanging from the ceiling. The old Englishmen from the construction business are excited about the hip-swinging girls as if they've never seen one before.

That night, I feel a craving for sex. Dirty and indecent sex. However, my priorities come first. Being a dominant, I desire to have a submissive of my own, someone who obeys me, enjoys the dominance, and loves her Master. And that comes before sex. I take a good look on the internet searching for a  discreet brothel in Dubai, where I can fulfill some of my wishes after the party, and I won't ask anyone I know. They are not my friends, and I don't want speculations about my personal life. I tend to be an unobtrusive and polished man. At least most of the time. My last BDSM relationship ended in marriage. Hers. She didn't want to be a submissive anymore, seemed like she got tired of it, and asked for an open relationship. In less than five months, she was engaged to some guy. I remember smiling when I got the news; I know it would not end well for her. It's pretty obvious that marrying a guy she barely knows can be a huge mess. And that's exactly what happened. When she return to me, wanting to go back to our old dominant-submissive relationship, it was a pleasure to say no. I was alone and just fine. Relationships always go wrong. No matter the time and no matter the people, relationships are doomed to fail. It's human nature. That's why I prefer my dominant lifestyle. 

Aziz, the guy from the company who contacted mine, gave me a name for tonight. A name that can help me a lot. Samira. The girl is sunk in debt and also has a sick mother who depends on her. He gave me all information about her. Samira is not even her real name and she's British like me, what is really an important detail. He said she could work as a high-end escort. Obviously, he doesn't know the whole truth about my life, not a clue. What I intend to offer this girl is an exchange. She helps me deal with the old-fashioned Arab men, and I'll help her with money. This will  be crucial in my life while I am here.

After some minutes of rest, I get up with all those thoughts in my head and go pick out a suit to wear after the shower. In the bathroom, I take a good look at my body’s reflection in the huge mirror and I like what I see. I'm a handsome man. I don't need false modesty. I'm comfortable with myself and slide my hand over my six-pack, feeling the contours of my well-toned muscles. I love boxing, crossfit, and I urgently need to find a gym in this city. It is not easy to go through the day without working out. My head can be filled with negative thoughts that don't correspond to reality, just pessimism.

I choose an Armani suit and a dark purple tie. I scrub my entire body, and as I slide my hand over my c*ck, the desire is immense. But I don't want to do that. I want some company tonight. It can be costly, it doesn't matter, but I want everything with her. I carefully take the tie, the suit, and the gloves. I don't like going out without them. Is it an OCD*? Probably, but I don't waste  my  time explaining it to a therapist. They won't tell me anything I don't already know. We all have our ghosts. It doesn't make me a victim. I know who messed up with my life, and that was my father. But what he did to us forged me into the steel man I am today. Merciless with other people's mistakes. I hate excuses and lies. My head is swirling with those thoughts, when all I wanted was to be resting for much later. Anyway, it's part of the job. Tt's already 5 p.m. I need to hurry.

I grab my pack of cigarettes and slide it into the inner pocket of my suit, along with my wallet, and head to the garage. While driving, I appreciate the view. Dubai's architecture really impresses even me. I'm used to visiting luxurious places, but Dubai is the Mecca for architects and builders. I evaluate each piece of structure to never replicate it. My company was invited to work on a bold and innovative project. There's not much space left in these sands. You need to be inventive, and that's what I am.

I rush against time; I hate being late. At a stoplight, I pass an old Nissan with a blonde inside. Seems like she got into some trouble with another driver. Women need to be careful in these cities. Not all of them drive well. I smile with irony to myself. When I arrive, the old men in turbans are already there, waiting for me with a smile and their thousands of dollars in the account. Their expectations of my ability are high, and I need to please them. I look at a somewhat poorly-made cake on a table. Really, it seems like I hired a poorly prepared team, but I know no one there really wants a slice of the cake; they want breasts and hips. So, everything is perfect.

After giving them some attention, I leaned against a table in the back and started browsing for an escort on my phone. How expensive! It seems like I will be going home alone, having my own hand as company! The music announces that the show is going to start. I saw the blonde going up on stage. It's her, Samira. What a hottie... Her hips trembled with the music, and she's good at what she does! Very good! Her blonde hair goes down almost to her butt, and it sways along with her whole body. She seems to love the dance. Will she love the amount I have to offer? Dubai is an expensive city to live in; I imagine she came with a dream in her pocket and a bunch of lies in her head. But well, that's not my problem. The only thing we have in common is that we're both English. She finishes her sensual dance, and my cock throbs more than the headache I feel. The girl is a knockout! However, I need to stay focused. And my focus is to offer her a half million dollar contract, and it really is a half million, after all, her debt with Aziz is around three hundred thousand dollars. She seems absolutely naive to make a deal like that in an Arab country. I wait for her outside  the bathroom  and I'm already prepared for her saying "no" to me, as Aziz warned me. She can be beetle- head, but I can be very convincing to make sure she will consent, and I believe she's desperate to grab something like this.

She's sexy. That wide hip must fit very well on top of my cock, and the way she moves, it must feel amazing. But... that's not what I'm offering her, and I don't want to mix things up. Much less be rude; I don't need to verbalize all my thoughts.

The girl seemed stunned by the amount. It wasn't even that much, but for someone who already works with her art and will have her debt with Aziz paid off, it's a good amount to live on. Besides, I plan to invite her to move into my apartment, so she'll have even fewer expenses.

I say “goodnight” after she says she will think about it. I left her with the feeling that I can change my mind, and I leave without further explanations. Everything that needed to be said has already been said. If she really wants it, she'll think it through. I head to the garage and get into my car. I look at my phone again to see where I should go to find a beautiful call girl who could satisfy me that night. Suddenly, I'm startled by someone knocking on my window's car.

"Hey!"

It's her, Samira. So it worked out.

"Can you roll down the window?"

I lower the window and rest my head on the seat.

"Let me guess, you prefer to follow people and scare them, personally? "

"No! I came to say that you don't need to change your mind. If this isn't some sick joke, I accept."

"Really? Got enemies?"

"I don't think so, but who knows, some girls are jealous."

Her beautiful abdomen was in my line of sight. Shit.

"It's not a sick joke."

I get out of the car and stand right in front of her. I look deep in her eyes, I can feel a crazy desire to have sex with her right now .

"How can I know?"

I let out an ironic laugh, crossing my arms.

"Because I own this shit and don't have time for jokes with dancers I don't even know!" I raise my voice, already impatient.

She takes a look at the card I had gave her.

"Where's your company located?"

"In the Burj Khalifa."

Her mouth opened.

"What are you? A millionaire?!"

"That's what they say." I'm out of patience.

"I accept."

"Great, see you at my apartment. The address is on the back of the card.”

"You already knew I'd accept, didn't you?"

I get back into the car and give her a cynical smile.

"I imagined that you were a little intelligent. Just a little."

I gesture between my thumb and index finger. I can see how she gets annoyed. I start the car's engine and don't hear anything else she has to complain or curse. It's fun to get her annoyed, and we barely know each other. I blow her a very ironic kiss and drive away. Unfortunately, as much as she attracts me, I know how to separate things. I would never offer a night of sex to an employee. And for me, that's what she was beginning to be from that moment on.

*OCD: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.