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This story is the first in a series’ of standalone prequels to the dirty old man series; it introduces some of the core characters who will appear again later.
There is a lot of me and people I know in this story, but it’s not strictly autobiographical.
This one is set in Riyadh in the summer of 1984.
Many thanks to Romantic1, your insights are what made this story possible.
I had been entertained for the last hour of the flight by the constant stream of young attractive Arabic women entering the toilets in western clothing and exiting in the traditional Arabic dress.
The very pretty girl in the business class seat beside mine had spent most of the flight telling me about her last year at a finishing school in Switzerland and generally flirting and rubbing her leg up against mine. I was seriously thinking of getting her number and inviting her to a party, when forty minutes before we landed, she joined the exodus to the toilets and reappeared fully covered by a black abya. Opps I thought, rule one, don’t mess with the local girls. I had thought she was a fellow expat.
With a lurch and a rattle of the overhead bins the Saudia Airlines Jumbo landed at Riyadh airport. My first vacation was over, and I was back in the magic kingdom. The plane came to a halt at the civilian terminal; the airport was close to the centre of town and shared the runway with the Saudi air force.
The mad rush to deplane began and I grabbed my carry on and moved to the front of the plane and down the stairs to the waiting busses, it was eight o’clock in the evening and it was still twenty-five degrees. The bus took us the 300 yards to the terminal and I joined my first queue of the evening, passport control. When I finally reached the front I handed over my passport and immigration form and I got the stamp that cancelled my exit/re-entry visa. I found my suitcase on the carousel, and again joined another queue, this time customs.
Now if you have never been to Saudi, it’s difficult to fully describe the pain that getting through the custom hall caused. The custom officers would go through everything, and I mean everything. I watched them pull the heels off the cowboy boots the guy in front of me was wearing, and then they started on my bags. Everything was tipped out and rummaged through, my bags got the all important chalk mark, and I was left to repack.
I exited the customs hall and saw Jeff my flat mate standing there, “Good to see you Andy,” he said.
And that’s me, Andrew; Andy to my friends. I’m twenty four years old, nearly six foot tall, one hundred and forty pounds in my socks, with light brown hair, a close trimmed beard I grew as a bet four years ago and blue eyes. I’m a senior physio at the military hospital, the same place that Jeff’s a radiographer. It’s the end of August and the year is 1984, and George Orwell’s future has yet to appear.
“Get me out of here,” I told him.
“The truck’s over there,” he said pointing at the car park. “Thanks for letting me use it while you were away.”
We walked up to my blue and white Blazer, I’d got it cheep a few months ago from a guy who had to leave the kingdom in a hurry. “I’m tired, can you drive,” I asked Jeff.
“There’s a cold drink in the centre box,” I was told. “So how was the holiday,” he asked.
I grabbed the can and pulled the tab, and swallowed deeply, there had been no air conditioning in the airport and I was gasping “Not bloody long enough for a start, and I found out that my parents are swingers!”
“What! You’re kidding.”
“No, you remember I was going to stay at their place in the south of France.”
“It’s a great place in the hills above Frejus on the south coast, it’s one of a small group of villas all owned by Brits, and it seems that every three or four days there’s a swingers party at one or another of the villas.
“Christ, what did you do,” he asked.
“What do you think I did, I joined in of course.”
“How old were they,” he asked.
“All ages, mostly couples in their forties but there were a couple of girls my age there. They were friends of one of the daughters, and I hung out with them most of the time. Mind you most of the older women were very tasty and very experienced. The things they would do would knock your socks off Jeff.”
“Shit, I hate you, Jill’s been on nights the past two weeks and I’ve barely seen her.” Gillian is his girlfriend and a nurse on ICU. “Oh and Julia wanted to know when you got back, she slept over in your room a couple of times after parties.”
Julia and I first met in London, and we had both trained at the same hospital, me as a physiotherapist and her as a pharmacist. We tried going steady but found that it just didn’t work, but we did work as best friends and occasional fuck buddies. After we graduated we got jobs in London, and became flat mates, two guys and three girls, fun times!
We both loved to travel and would take holidays together, a mate of mine told us bağcılar escort about the Saudi contracts and the great travel benefits, and they sounded just what we were looking for. The recruitment agency had places, we applied and were accepted; so three month later we were Saudi bound.
We weren’t able to take our first leave together, so Julia had gone home a month earlier and as she flew back, I flew out.
“Home James,” I told him and we entered the madness known as Saudi traffic. We lived in a block of flats that the hospital owns known locally as Iskan Five, it was a mix of large one and two bedrooms apartments, and catered for married couples and single men. The Saudis believed in segregation just as much as we believed in cohabitation, so as the great Sherlock Holmes said, the games afoot Watson, and sneaking the girls in, became an art form. Our latest coup was obtaining the master key for the flats from a mate in security so we were able to bypass the security desk.
We parked in the garage in the basement having only had two close calls on the way, less than average, and used the master key to access the service lift, and made our way to the sixth floor and our flat.
Which was empty, damn it.
“Oh yes I was supposed to tell you she will met you at Welsh John’s party,” Jeff said.
“And where is it?” I asked.
“In 307,”he replied.
“Ok, I’m going to grab a quick shower and get changed; I will see you there in twenty minutes.” I went off to my room and I could see evidence of Julia’s occupation scattered all over the room.
Twenty minutes later, feeling a lot cleaner and fresher I knocked on John’s door, and the man himself opened it. The room was heaving, and the party was in full swing, the way only Saudi parties can be. I grabbed a glass of something alcoholic from the bar, Christ knows what it was supposed to be, and looked around for the gang.
I think that there was a theme to the party as the balcony and half the lounge seemed to be covered in sand and a lot of the men were in garish Hawaiian shirts and the women seemed to be competing for the smallest bikini.
There was a tap on my shoulder and I turned to see Lisa a fellow physio dressed in a grass skirt and a coconut shell bra standing there. “When did you get back, I thought you were on leave?”
“Err, just now, and are you wearing anything under that skirt?”
She smiled at me, and took my hand and slipped it under the skirt, and I fondled her shaven pussy. “Does that answer your question?”
“So what’s the party for?” I asked her.
“It’s a Hawaiian beach party, and I have no idea why? But its fun and I love dressing like this.”
“I have no complaints, where’s the boyfriend,” I asked.
“Dumped his sorry little ass, last week, and look at all these losers, not a decent one amongst them. I don’t suppose you are looking?” she said hopefully.
“Sorry I’m sort of promised to Julia for tonight,” I told her then asked, “Have you seen Jeff anywhere?”
“Last seen heading in the direction of the bedroom with Jill,” she told me.
The room was so crowded you could barely see ten feet in any direction, and I couldn’t see Julia anywhere, so I headed in the direction of the bedrooms.
Dave, John’s flat mate was guarding the door of the master bedroom with his girlfriend on his lap, and stopped me entering, “Can’t go in Andy unless you have a partner,” he told me.
“Don’t really want to go in,” I said, “I’m looking for Jeff and Julia?”
“I haven’t seen Julia, but Jeff’s in there with his girlfriend.”
“That’s cool; when he comes out let him know I’m here will you?”
I turned to go back to the main party, and then decided to check out the other bedroom, “same rules?” I asked Dave, nodding at the other door.
He shook his head so I opened the door and went in, I’d found the chill out room. There was fifteen or so bodies lying around, and there was Julia, smoking a joint, in a little black dress, sitting cross legged flashing her skimpy black nickers to all and sundry. There was a good-looking guy sitting next to her hitting on her, so I let her see me, to see if she wanted rescuing.
She smiled as she saw me and grimaced at the guy beside her, so I dropped down to her other side, and pulled her into a big kiss.
“I missed you darling, you look wonderful,” I told her, “god it’s been a whole month. How was your holiday, did you met anyone interesting?” It was fun watching the poor guy on her other side look totally pissed off; he must of really thought he was on to a sure thing.
He manned up and lent across Julia and introduced himself, he was Simon a locum anaesthetist, here for three months, and this was his first Saudi party. “And you are?” he asked.
I smiled at him, “I’m Andy and I’m Julia’s part time boyfriend.”
“Part time lover you mean,” Julia said.
“That as well,” I agreed. Then I had a thought. “Simon wait here, I think I know bahçelievler escort the perfect girl for you.”
I got up and disappeared into the throng and returned five minutes later with Lisa in tow.
“Simon meet Lisa, Lisa this is Simon, he’s a locum anaesthetist.”
Simon’s eyes were on stalks as he realised that Lisa wasn’t wearing anything under her grass skirt, and being aware of Lisa’s goal of marrying a doctor I thought this could work out. Lisa dragged him off to the main room, blowing me a kiss as she left.
“Thank you, I didn’t think he was ever going to take the hint and leave me alone,” she said, as she curled up against me, “and, yes I met two nice guys and I spent a whole weekend in bed with them, and Jeff says you had an interesting time as well.”
“Oh, did he. Well it’s true, shall we swap stories later?” I asked.
“Don’t we always, can we leave?” she said, “I was only hanging around until you got here.”
I stood and helped her up, she put her arms around me and ground her pelvis into my groin, and I responded the only way a gentleman could, I groped her ass, and got nice and hard.
“Hold that thought,” she said, and we slowly worked our way across the room. We had to stop every few feet and say hello to friends and work colleagues, but finally we reached the door and freedom.
We stood in my bedroom and we just looked at each other. We have this unusual relationship, the best description is that I was her part time boyfriend when it suits her and she is mine when it suits me. We knew that we would intersperse busts of intense sex with long periods of abstinence. Julia came up with the best description, best fucking friends ever. We weren’t right for the long-term relationship, we’d tried it and it failed miserably.
We’d both had many other lovers over the years, we’d even shared a couple, and we kept nothing from each other. I had held her hand through her break ups, and slept at her side in hospital for days after her bike accident. And she had done the same for me countless times.
Our Saudi time had strengthened the relationship, and our dependence to each other, but we both knew that one day we would each find our ideal partner and our lives would change. Somehow I think we both suspected that even then we would never lose our attraction to each other.
“Hi there, I missed you,” I told her.
“It’s odd,” she continued, “this is the first time in years I was completely isolated from you, and I didn’t like it, I couldn’t even call you.”
“I know, it felt weird.”
“Sod it, I need you,” she said, “Please fuck me.” And she turned so I could reach the zip on the dress, and slip it off her. I shed my shirt, jeans and briefs in double quick time, and then removed her panties. Julia is beautiful, she is tall five foot ten and has ash blond shoulder length hair; her breasts are medium size, firm and uplifting, her nipples standing proud from her dark areole.
“I’ve got to show you this,” I told her, “one of the women in France showed me.”
I got her to lie back and opened her legs and gently eased two fingers inside her. She was already nice and wet, I bent my fingers upwards and began feeling for her G spot.
“This is nice, but nothing special,” she told me.
“Just wait,” I said, “you’ll know it when I find it.”
My fingertips kept searching and then finally I felt that subtle change in the texture of her inner wall that meant I’d found it. I massaged it as I’d been shown, and Julia jumped and cried out in pleasure.
“What the fuck is that,” she gasped, “and for fuck’s sake don’t stop, it’s amazing.”
“It’s called your G spot.” And I continued to rub it and use my thumb on her protruding clit as I’d been shown.
“I don’t care what it’s fucking called just keep doing whatever it is, oh fuck, oh fuck, FUCK, I’m cumming,” she screamed, and her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm.
She looked at me in amazement, “Please tell me you can do that again.”
“Yes. And it gets easier the more aroused you are.”
She looked at me, “you have to take me with you the next time you go to France, and did you learn anything else?” She asked. “Damn it, you always were the best lover I’d had, but this was amazing.”
“I’m invited back next summer, want to come?”
God, I really owed Silvia, the woman in France, so much for spending a whole afternoon teaching me all the mysteries that surrounded the female body, she taught me the G spot, the A spot, how to and not to touch a woman’s erogenous zones, how to suck, lick and nibble. How women like men to perform cunnilingus, which by the way isn’t the way men think they should do it. I thought I knew it all, but I hadn’t; best afternoon ever!
We lay together with our hands constantly moving over each other as we caught up on our news.
“So, two men at the same time, do tell.”
“It was a really cool weekend; I met them at my cousin’s bahçeşehir escort wedding. They were a couple of his university mates, and we were seated at the same table. I was missing you and feeling ultra randy, and they weren’t bad looking, but very nervous when I came on to them.”
“Don’t tell me you raped them,” I laughed.
“As near as, damn it,” she said, “I couldn’t make my mind up as to which one to pick, and they were just like the last two in games class, both praying that they won’t be the one left to the end when the teams are picked!”
I laughed, “So what did you do?”
“It was so funny, we were all dancing together, I was rubbing up against them, and they were both rock hard. They both felt a reasonable size, so I took hold of them through their trousers, one in each hand and dragged them off to my room. I swear I heard one of ask me not to hurt him!”
“And did you?”
“No silly, I just fucked their brains out from Saturday night to Monday morning.”
“What, no breaks at all?”
“If we got hungry or thirsty I would send one them to get supplies and hold the other hostage.”
I laughed as I pictured the scene in my mind, and decided that I needed her right then; my cock had been steadily growing harder as she told her story. I looked at her and she knew what I was thinking, and she opened her legs and pulled me on top of her. She took hold of my hard cock and eased it between her pussy lips, and urged me in. I slid into her wet channel, feeling the muscles shift and ripple as they adjusted to my girth and length. Our hips and pelvises rocked driving my cock into and out of her velvety vagina. Julia wrapped her legs around me and used her heels to urge me on. I was kissing her face, neck and ear lobes, and we were both moaning with pleasure.
I felt like a man possessed and kept increasing the pace, and Julia was writhing below me. I got a thumb on her clit and massage her some as we fucked. I felt the muscles in her cunt tighten as she came and cried out, but I wasn’t ready so I carried on thrusting for several more minutes. Her orgasms kept coming as I was triggering new ones ever few moments, and she was clutching me tight as she kept crying out. I felt my impending orgasm begin to wash out of my balls and shoot into her. I arched my back for the final deep thrust, and my cum flooded out to fill her.
“That was fucking brilliant,” she said after she got her breath back. “You need to go away more often if that what I get when you come back to me.”
“It was your story that turned me on,” I managed to gasp out.
I slid out of her as I shrank, and she curled up on her side, and I cuddled her from behind and we relaxed and fell asleep.
It was Friday the next day and we didn’t get out of bed until early afternoon. I had spent the morning showing her some of the other interesting techniques I had discovered in France, until thirst had forced us up.
We spent the rest of the day lazing about the flat in various states of undress with Jeff and Gillian. Jill is petite five foot two with short black hair and the girls favoured long tee shirts stolen from us without anything on under them;
Jeff and I preferred shorts and sport shirts when we could be bothered to wear anything.
We lounged around watching videos and planning Julia’s birthday party we were hosting the following weekend. I need to point out that in Saudi our weekend was Thursday and Friday – so we were planning the party for Thursday. Julia didn’t want a free for all so we had decided to make it invite only, limit the numbers, and have an even number of both sexes. Interestingly the invites were only for the women but they had to bring a man, no invite no admittance was the rule.
“So what have you decided on,” I asked her, as I knew she’d been busy planning all the time I’d been away.
“I gave the last invites out last night and with the four of us that makes forty four in total, I’ve chosen the theme and all the women have strict instructions on what to wear.”
I hadn’t known that it was to be themed or that there was a dress code, “Err, what are we going to be wearing,” I asked.
“All the men need to be in thobes; they can change when they arrive, and it’s a secret from the men what the women are wearing, but they all had to agree to the dress code and understand what to expect before they got an invite,” she said, then asked, “Have we got enough drink for that many?”
Jeff spoke up, “more than enough, we had thought you were going to invite a lot more so we have over a hundred litres of wine, five cases of beer, and Andy’s picking up a case of Sid on Tuesday from Arabian homes.”
Alcohol is illegal in Saudi so we all got a bit creative, Jeff and I usually had at least one, twenty-five litre jerry can of wine brewing at any time, it’s funny you go to the supermarket and the grape juice, sugar, yeast and jerry cans are all on one isle, talk about one stop shopping. We would trade some for home brew beer, as ours was never any good. Sid is the local version of moonshine, and I had a contact at one of the compounds who had promised me a case.
“The food’s all organised, we just need you two to decorate the flat,” Jill told us., “We want large floor cushions scattered all over and lots of fairy lights and candles everywhere. It needs to be dark and magical.”
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