“Sir, should I call Flighty?”
“And why would you want to do that?”
“Well, she’s been to Dubai a few times, and she isn’t shy when it comes to sex. You know the reputation these flight crews have, she might know where the hotspots are.”
“Chas, are you sure you should have kept in touch with this woman?”
“Why? What we do is not illegal.”
“It’s ‘we’ now is it?”
“As I say, it’s not illegal.”
“Maybe not, but if the likes of Elliot get a whiff of it, your promising career will sink like a rubber duck hit by an Exocet missile.”
“Then so be it sir. My motto is work to live, not live to work.”
“Phone her then, but it’s all eleventh hour now.”
Harrington held his mobile to his ear as they took their lives in their hands crossing the road over to the shopping centre.
At first a woman’s voice spoke Arabic to him. The pre-recorded message then switched to English. Flighty’s phone was either switched off or unavailable.
As they went up an escalator inside the busy shopping mall, his thumb punched in a text message. ‘Call me when you get this message.’
Chapter 15
Aisha arrived at the Salamander club a little before eleven. It was at least an hour too early, but she could not afford to miss him. There was an unexpected problem at the door.
“Sorry madam, you cannot come in.”
“I don’t understand, what’s the problem?”
“We have a dress code.” He ran his eyes up and down her skimpy red dress.
“How can you refuse a guest entry to the hotel’s facilities?”
“You are a guest at the hotel?” The black-suited man’s voice betrayed his surprise.
“Yes.” Aisha undid the zip along the back of her handbag and plucked out her key card.
“Okay ma’am. Fifty dirham.”
The note was already in her hand. She passed it to the man sitting behind a cash box and received a drinks voucher in return.
The bouncer stepped to one side. As she passed he discreetly said: “Tone it down tomorrow night ma’am.”
As I suspected, thought Aisha. Dress a little sexy by all means, but do not flash too much flesh, it doesn’t go down well in these parts. Still, I managed to get in and the dress will definitely make me stand out.
Sitting on one of only two stools at the bar, she drank tonic water with ice and lemon from a glass without a straw. Her decision-making had to be at its best, she couldn’t afford to be even slightly drunk. She had a good view of the entrance and most onlookers would assume there was gin mixed with the tonic.
It was twelve twenty-four when Phillips walked in. He was alone. They made eye contact straight away. Aisha smiled before turning away.
Phillips exchanged his voucher for bottle of beer and took it round the corner. Aisha waited her time.
Fifteen minutes passed before she slipped off her stool and headed for the ladies toilet. He had another woman close by, but the way she saw his head following her out of the corner of her eye told her he had taken the bait.
Six girls were in the restroom but only one cubicle was occupied. Five women were looking at themselves in the mirror, fiddling with their clothing and touching up their make-up. Aisha took the opportunity to offload some of the tonic water she had consumed in the last ninety minutes.
Once that was done she joined in the main activity. A fresh coat of Passionate Red went on to her lips, another spray of perfume behind her ears, and of course, down the top and up the bottom of her dress. She took hold of the sides of her dress and straightened it up a bit. She leant towards the mirror to simulate the view a taller man would have down the front of her dress. He will like your nice ripe melons, she said to herself, well, grapefruits anyway. Aisha smiled. It was a smile she held on her face all the way back to the bar. Phillips tracked her once again.
The stool had gone for a walk, but there was still sufficient space for her to squeeze into. A large fat guy moved along to make room for her.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Not around here.”
“I guessed that.” His eyes focused onto her breasts. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Not at the moment, maybe later.”
“Suit yourself. There are plenty more fish in the sea.”
“Indeed there are,” she whispered to herself. “Indeed there are.”
Almost immediately, Phillips arrived onto the spot in front of her.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Where would you like me to be from?”
“Mmm, let me think about that while I get you a drink.”
“A gin and tonic please.”
He put his mouth to her right ear. “Most girls have a bottle of Heineken.”
“I’m not most girls.”
It was the turn of Phillip’s eyes to study the merchandise bulging out of her dress.
“I hope you’re worth it.”
“They are.” She dropped her eyes and smiled.
He raised his arm over the shoulder of the fat guy and shouted, “A gin and tonic over here.”
The gin and tonic arrived quickly, he did not hand over any cash.
Aisha nodded her thanks as she took the glass. “I guess you’re a hotel guest.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Is it a nice room?”
“I’ve had better, but it’s nice enough. What should I call you?”
“Here I was thinking you were more interested in my body than my name.”
“Your name comes a close second behind your body. I can’t get to know your body as I would wish in here, therefore I think we should start with your name.”
“Natalie. What should I call you?”
“My friends call me Arthur.”
“You don’t look like an Arthur.” Aisha’s face did little to hide her amusement at the false name he had chosen.
“Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t look like a Natalie.”
“Touché.”
“Do you live near here?”
Ah, he’s planning the venue, thought Aisha. “No I’m here on holiday.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise.” Phillips looked like a man who thought he had made a big mistake.
“I say holiday, but if I can get a little work on the side, I certainly could do with the money.”
His relief was tangible. “Well, this is where the money is. You’ve come to the right place. What’s the day job then?”
He’s acting, she thought. He spoke a lot more eloquently during television interviews. “I’m a student at Exeter University. I gave up my job at a call centre to study sociology. I want to make more of my life.”
“Good for you.” He raised his bottle and chinked it against her glass.
“Nice meeting you.”
“How much money are you looking to raise tonight?”
This was where Aisha was walking in unknown territory. She based her answer on what she knew about escort fees in London. “Twelve hundred.”
He raised both eyebrows. “I could have two Russian girls for that.”
“One thousand, and I won’t disappoint.”
“I’m not sure.”
“I thought you looked like a man who might like more than a quick fuck.”
The injection of some coarse language seemed to do the trick. He placed his left hand on her shoulder and moved his face closer.
“You smell nice.”
“Thank you.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Not too far from here.”
“Would we need to get a taxi?”
“Can we not use your room?”
“No.”
“I am sure your bed is more comfortable than mine.”
“Can’t risk it I’m afraid.”
“What is there to risk? Doesn’t everyone do it in hotel rooms?”
“Huh, you are new to
this, aren’t you?”
Aisha pushed her chest out and ran her hand down from her neck to her stomach, deliberately brushing it over her breasts on the way down. “Explain things to the new girl would you.”
“If I take you to my room, security will intercept us at the lifts. They will want my room number and your ID. I can’t allow that to happen.”
“Ooh, that sounds very mysterious. Are you a spy?”
“No. I’m not. It’s just…” He stopped talking and tilted his head sideways. “Enough said.”
“I can solve that problem for you.” Aisha was desperately trying not to use her room. She would if she had to, but his room would be much better.
He took another look downwards without speaking.
“Give me your room number and I will follow you up in five minutes.”
“Do you know about a staircase I don’t know about?”
“That will be my secret. What we do in your room will be our secret.”
“What will we do?”
“I told you last night.”
“So you did.”
“Do you like that idea? We can take our time. No rush.”
His eyes started wandering around the club. Cogs were turning inside his head.
“Are you in a hotel or with friends?”
“Hotel.”
“Do you think security there would ask questions? Or is it one of the budget hotels?”
“It’s a lot like this one.”
“You can’t stay the night.”
Deal sealed, she thought. “I will leave when you ask me to leave. Not a moment before, not a moment after.”
“Five-zero-one. Despite what you may think, it’s on the fourth floor. Right down the end of the corridor.”
Aisha knew it couldn’t be on the fifth floor, there was no fifth floor. She smiled like a dumb girlie. “I’ll find it, don’t you worry. Two double raps.”
“Eight hundred and you will have some holiday cash to spend.”
“Two hundred more than a quick fuck with a Russian girl. I don’t think so.”
“Okay. A thousand it is. See you in five minutes.”
Aisha thought about making him wait longer than five minutes, but she wanted this over as quickly as possible.
The precaution of carrying her key card in her hand avoided any inconvenience as she approached the lift lobby. The female security guard made eye contact and went to speak.
“Goodnight,” said Aisha cheerily.
The guard dropped her eyes to the key card. “Goodnight madam.”
Approaching Phillips door, she did not hesitate. Any hesitation could result in a subsequent retreat. She had to be strong. Her knuckle rapped out two double beats on the wooden door.
Phillips opened it without speaking and retreated back into the extremely large living area. As she walked in Aisha realised it was a suite and not a room. She hoped the bed was of similar design to the one she had in her standard room.
Phillips had lost his trouser, shoes and socks. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone and the legs of his boxer shorts were just visible below it.
“Your gin and tonic is on the table.”
At first Aisha looked at the dining table. It was laid for four people and there were three red candles in a holder in the middle of it, but no gin and tonic. Her eyes scanned the room until they saw a glass on a small mahogany table next to the window. Underneath it was a one thousand dirham note.
“I hope you enjoy it,” said Phillips ambiguously.
“I hope you enjoy it too.”
Phillips dropped down into one of two armchairs, which was not where Aisha wanted him.
“You look like a man who wants to watch me take my clothes off.”
“Not yet my dear.” He suddenly sounded like she had expected him to sound, more pompous than he had been in the club.
“You misinterpret me. I want to look, but keep your body wrapped for now.”
Aisha pulled out the chair from under the desk and positioned it so the seat back was facing him. Slowly she moved towards it, hoicked her dress up a little, and sat on it back to front with her thighs wrapped round its back.
“What can you see?” she asked.
“Red fishnet stockings, and a glimpse of thigh above them. Beyond that tantalising bit of flesh, your beauty gets lost in the shadows.”
“Are you imagining what is up there?” She sipped her drink.
“I wasn’t, but I am now.”
“Why don’t we move your attention a little higher?” She hooked an ice cube out of her glass and dropped it down her cleavage.
“That is a very lucky ice cube. How does it feel?”
“Cool on my breasts. Though it has to be said, my boobs are very grateful. I am not sure it was a sensible decision to wear PVC underwear on a hot sticky Dubai evening.”
“Are you a little sweaty then?”
“A little, but nothing I’m not willing to tolerate in the pursuit of carnal pleasures. Besides, the air conditioning is starting to do its job.”
“Glad to hear it. I don’t think my John Thomas would like it any cooler.” He patted his groin.
“No, I quite agree, we don’t want it too cool. Sex should be hot and steamy, don’t you think?”
“It all sounds good to me.”
“I can tell. It looks like something is stirring in your underpants.”
“So it is.” He looked smug.
Aisha switched her drink to her left hand. With her right she squeezed her left breast. “My nipples seem to be taking a lead from your cock.”
“Are you getting wetter up there?” His eyes drilled up under her dress.
“Of course. Let me improve the view.” She moved her knees a little further apart.
Aisha started to enjoy the power she had over him. The icing on the cake for her was the fact that she knew he thought she was his for the taking. The sexual excitement induced by her actions surprised her. In fact, she started to think luring him in like this was more exciting than sexual seduction.
“Stand up. Let me see you from behind.”
“Oh, I look good from behind, I can assure you of that.” She stood and walked round to the other side of the chair. With her hands on the seat back she shuffled her feet apart and pushed her bum back towards her audience. “Do you agree?”
“I do, very nice. Now I think it is time for you to take the dress off. Let’s see that arse of your in all its glory.”
“Wouldn’t you enjoy my arse more in the bedroom?”
“I can see it from here.”
“Let’s get you comfortable and then I’ll give you a show.”
Phillips stood and walked towards the bedroom door.
“Not so fast.” Aisha put her arm across his chest and placed her glass back down on the table. Sliding her hand down the side of his body, she took hold of his boxers and carried on all the way down to his ankles. “Nice legs,” she said, and then kissed the tip of his erection.
By the time he made it to the nearest of two double beds, Phillips had thrown his shirt onto a chair.
Aisha picked up her handbag and stood in the doorway, watching him take up his position on the bed. A sense of relief flowed through her body; he had the luxury of two beds in his room, but they were the same as the one in her room.
“Nice cock,” she said as their eyes met again.
“I like to think so.”
“It is nice. I look forward to having it inside me.”
“He’s looking forward to it too.”
Aisha hated the way some men talked about their penises in the third person, but she had no plans to educate him tonight. “My pussy will squeeze him until he can take it no more.”
It was moving into the stage Aisha saw as pivotal to the whole plan. If she was going to see it through to the end, he had to be putty in her hands. The money on the table through in the sitting room was nowhere near enough for what she was about to do, but this was not about money. Knowing her
reward was less than an hour away drove her on. It should not have come to this but if this was what it took, she was going to do it.
After unzipping her handbag, Aisha pulled out the five pashminas she had placed in there the night before. She also pulled out a short black leather whip, the handle of which was shaped like a penis.
“Is that a cock on the end of that?” Phillips looked amused.
“It sometimes comes in useful when a girl is travelling alone.”
A few steps to her right took her over to the dressing table. She placed the pashminas down on its surface and laid the whip on top of them. Although she was facing away from him, she could see Phillips in the dressing table mirror.
Placing her hands under her hair and up onto the back of her neck, she started to sway. It was the beginnings of routine she had performed for Nabeel only two weeks earlier. When doing it for Nabeel it came naturally. It had been spontaneous and fun. At the time it was not intended to be a rehearsal for tonight, but she drew on it nonetheless.
She dropped her hands onto the dressing table and gyrated her backside in quick jerky movements. Her dress started to ride up, she did nothing to stop it. A shuffle of her feet took them six inches further back. Her guess was that he would now have a glimpse of the small triangle of red PVC over her pussy. She continued the gyrations.
“Hands by your side,” she commanded as she saw him taking hold of his erection.
He obeyed.
Good, thought Aisha, I’m in control. A wave of excitement shot through her body.
Her hands went back up to her neck. After a short pause she unhooked the clasp and took hold of the zip. She eased it down extremely slowly. It came to a stop in the small of her back.
It was then time to turn round and face her prey. With her left arm across her chest to hold the dress in place, she slipped the left shoulder strap down her arm. The manoeuvre was repeated with the right shoulder strap.
Phillips was sitting up on the bed, watching with wide eyes that rarely blinked.
Aisha let gravity take the front of the dress downwards. She gave the shoulder straps a helping hand as they passed over her elbows. The red PVC corset was now exposed. Seconds later her hands guided the dress down over her hips, down her legs and onto the floor.
In one move she stepped out of the dress and picked up the whip. With her legs a good two feet apart she placed the handle close to the front of her thong and let the short flails dangle down between her thighs. Swaying her hips she moved her hand in rhythm to make the flails swing like a tail.
The Spanish Hotel Page 23