As a girl, I wanted to pursue an international career. My Dad was an airline pilot and took Mum and me on holidays to exotic places. I had a little of a romantic attachment to the Arab lands, which I found exotic and in recent years, quite modern, attractive, and increasingly sophisticated, offering a heady blend of East and West.
I did very well at school on the Arts side and at university where I studied Law with Arabic as a half unit. During my third year, I spent six months in Cairo, working in an airline office. I graduated with a good degree and joined a firm of commercial solicitors in the City. Keeping my Arabic, I studied the legal systems of the modern Arab world. An excellent opportunity for me arose in one of the Gulf nations.
Eventually, I joined a law firm in one of the rapidly developing but (I thought at the time) relatively liberal Arab nations of the Gulf area. The company specialises in commercial law. I moved down to the Gulf State. The firm helped me find a small but smart, secure, and comfortable apartment in a modern tower block. There was an attached sports club and swimming pool and I quickly settled in.
I was in no hurry to settle down and had a succession of minor flirtations with other expatriate men. The place turned out to be a little more boring and staid than I had thought it might. You had to be very careful about drinking and driving and, despite the apparent sophistication of the place; you had to be very wary as a lone European female at night.
Everyone knew everyone else and if you sneezed in one place, they knew you had a cold at the other place down the road before you arrived. The place was very expensive, even though the money was good, and you worked very long hours with an early start, without exception.
It was the rule that all of us in the office did more than enough work for two people. Despite being young and fit, I soon put a premium on sleep. This was not quite what I had expected from taking holidays in the place, but the job turned out to be very interesting and I could save money.
Time flew past and within two years, I was heavily involved with the work of the firm and at a very senior level for my age.
A local airline and aviation services company were trying to introduce some new helicopters to the area. The inevitable question arose about who should be the "Agent" for this European helicopter manufacturer.
This was a tricky area, as it was politically sensitive. If you wanted to sell cheap toys, then anyone local could be an "Agent." But because it was a high-value product with a fair exposure to local officialdom, it was a different matter. There was a pecking order amongst the locals, and they sort of stood in line. We usually had a view of who was in line for the next biggie. During the negotiations of the deal, both sides required representation.
This time, we found ourselves in the slightly unusual situation of working for the locals. We had as a paid advisor an older sheikh who was well-connected with the local ruler. He advised us that the proposed agent was the equivalent of a Lieutenant Colonel in their Air Force and he was a second cousin of the Ruler.
The first thing would be to negotiate his "fee" with the helicopter manufacturer. We needed to meet the candidate to find out what he expected and for him to discuss with us his "opening" and "walk" positions. The senior partner rang him and set up a meeting at our office.
Came the day of the meeting. Our man arrived at the appointed time. We sat down in our conference room. He would have been about 40 and he looked quite fit.
Our man was in traditional dress with gold trimmings and the gold belt, ceremonial knife etc. he had come in full fig for the important meeting. I thought he kept trying to meet my eye, and I gave him one or two chances. There was a possibility he would drop a Rolex on me!
With that little beard just turning a little grey, and big dark eyes, he was quite attractive. He looked quite distinguished. His spoken English was good with not much of an accent and he was very polite.
His views on 'open' and 'walk' were spot on, so that part of the discussion was over quickly. We moved on to other areas, including liabilities, insurance, what exactly he would have to do for his agency fee, and what would need to be defined as extras.
Again, he was well-versed in all this. I warmed to him because he didn't mess about and he knew what he wanted. His position was reasonable, and when something had to be explained to him, he took the point quickly and did not prevaricate.
We got about twice as much done in the time as I thought we would, and then he came up with surprising news. It turned out that the manufacturer, once they agreed on the agency deal, wanted him to visit their plant. They requested this because they wanted him to represent them about other products.
He thought he would need some legal support and asked if I would like to go on the team with a male colleague because there would be enough work for the two of us. He said that we could fly there with him in the executive jet belonging to his cousin who was a full Prince. I couldn't believe it!
The immediate thing was to get the helicopter agency deal signed up with the lawyers of the manufacturer. They had booked into a local hotel. This we did over the next 48 hours, getting official approval from the relevant ministry shortly after, all done in record time.
Hamid (that was his name) was delighted. He arranged for us all to fly out to Europe the next week. I packed my best outfits, bought a new one, got my hair done, crash-dieted down by about four pounds, and got ready.
On the day of the trip, a limo came for me at the apartment and took me to the steps of the beautiful executive jet. It looked a little like a jet fighter with a raked nose, swept-back wings, engines at the back, and I could stand up in the middle.
It had leather seats and was very comfortable. We took off and climbed away at an incredible rate. Hamid, once airborne, took off his robes to reveal a pair of slacks and a golfing shirt underneath and got to talk to us.
He said he had got into the armed forces because of the former British Protectorate. Our troops had seen him make a go-cart out of littles of planks, some old pram wheels, and nails.
His efforts impressed our lads, and they helped him. Hamid got talking to them and they said, "When you are old enough, why don't you join your new defence force?" and so, as soon as he was old enough, he did.
He liked us because of that and we must have treated him well! Hamid could fly but didn't have time on that executive jet. During his military service, he had been in helicopters. The agency job suited Hamid because he knew what he was dealing with. He was splendid company and quite funny.
We arrived in Europe, went to the meetings and everything went very well once again. We were staying in a luxury five-star hotel and on the third evening, my male colleague went off to look up friends, leaving me to look after myself.
I had just showered and was looking through the entertainment section of the local paper when the phone rang and it was Hamid. He invited me out for supper at what turned out to be a beautiful old restaurant overlooking the river. We had a lovely meal, and he was quite a gentleman, only putting very mild pressure on me.
With the better part of a bottle of wine down me, (he wasn't that good a Moslem) my resistance was weakening. I took the low-dose pill all the time "just in case" and it didn't have any noticeable side effects on me. So if I was in the mood, there was no problem and this time I was in the mood. The inevitable happened, and we ended the evening in my room.
Hamid was quite good in bed and virile, but he was like a little boy and seemed to enjoy being mothered. I have heard other girls say that about Arab men. It was all rather odd. Inevitably, he had to tell me he was married, of course, he was.
I thought of 'back home' in the Gulf and he raised the subject. "Will you see me again?" he asked. I thought I would and told him so because he was good company and I could take some more of these all-expenses-paid trips to Europe.
I asked about the question of discretion. He was quietly insistent that back home, we must never be together in public. I was never to talk about our relationship, or in public or otherwise, to reveal his name or telephone number.
He said, "We do it like this. Most of us own several cars, a couple of expensive ones for business and family use, and cheaper Japanese saloons for going shopping, running around town, etc. They are quite common and no one notices them or the occupants as the cars all have tinted windows.
"I would come dressed in Western clothes, probably wearing a baseball cap -- a lot of Indian guys go around looking like that. I will not stand out in a crowd or draw attention to myself."
"Your apartment has a garage underneath where I can park discretely and I know there is a lift with access by either a swipe card or security phone. You would know I am coming and I will come straight up in the lift. It's easy."
He had it all worked out and I couldn't see a problem.
The visit ended, and we flew back to the Gulf, the same limo driving me back to the flat. Hamid gave me a Rolex (discretely) as a parting gift for the trip. I felt a little like a kept woman, but what the hell!!
I still had my job and my self-respect. It escaped my recognition that I might be in for serious problems. It didn't seem to matter much. I could always up and leave if things got too tricky. With my experience, I could get a job anywhere. There was a limit to life in the Gulf.
Back at the apartment, I met with Hamid several times. Looking at my naked person seemed to please him as much as anything, and he wasn't at all kinky. Cuddling and petting satisfied him when what I wanted was a hard, steamy session!
He didn't like oral either way. I let him see me wash on the bidet once, in case he was concerned about hygiene. It was all a little boring!
