This happened in Sharjah.
Those of you who stay or have stayed in Sharjah know about the little slips of paper which are inserted through the front door of your apartment with the mobile numbers of housemaids written on them.
One Saturday morning, I decided to try one of those numbers. A young female voice answered the call. She asked for my address and I asked for her rate. She said, "It's 25 dirhams per hour." Now, 25 AED is not a small amount for me, but I decided that it's a reasonable price to pay for an hour of CFNM fun. So the deal was made and Zara told me she would arrive in 30 minutes.
I was really tense and excited and those 30 minutes passed in pleasurable anticipation. As there was no one else in the apartment I was, of course, completely naked.
However, when the doorbell rang, I wrapped a towel around myself and opened the door. Two young Arab girls, dressed in T-shirts and jeans, were waiting in the corridor. Their swarthy complexion, thick lips and curly hair seemed to indicate their East African origin. They were both in their late teens or early twenties, slim and not unattractive. The taller one said, "You asked for house-cleaning?"
"Yes. Are you Zara?"
"Ya."
"But I asked for only one cleaning lady!"
"That's ok. Our rate is still the same. This is my friend, Zenub. She will help me do the cleaning."
"25 dirhams per hour?"
"Ya."
"Ok, then. Please come in."
The two girls came into the living room and stood looking around the place. Zenub asked, "You live alone?"
"Yes. And I like to keep my apartment clean."
The next few minutes were spent explaining the job to be done and showing them the broom and mop. Then, as they started working, I went to my bedroom and took off the towel. My heart was beating very fast (as it is doing even now, as I am writing this post) and I could hardly concentrate on what I was doing. I could hear the girls talking in Arabic between themselves in the living room. I set up the ironing stand, switched on the iron and arranged my shirt on the stand. The corner of the bedroom where I was standing was not directly visible from the living room, but the girls had only to step a few paces along the little passage from the living room to be able to see my bare buttock through the open door.
I finished ironing one shirt (It wasn't a very good job, as you would expect, considering the state I was in!) and opened my wardrobe to hang it up inside. It was then, that I saw Zenub, out of the corner of my eye, going into the bathroom (which had an adjacent door off the passage) to fetch a bucket. I could swear that she had looked into the bedroom, but I couldn't be sure. I took out another shirt and went back to the stand. I was trembling in excitement and my penis was semi-erect.
Zenub, meanwhile had gone back to the kitchen to join Zara. I heard her speak to Zara and then I heard some giggling. I switched off the iron, but continued to act as if I was still busy ironing. I was facing away from the bedroom door, but could 'feel' two pairs of eyes behind me. I was drooling pre-*** by this time.
I had missed that initial reactions of shock on the flashees' faces which exhibitionists, like me, value so much, but I knew I had my 25 dirhams' worth coming soon.
"Hello"
I heard Zara's voice from the kitchen. "Is she calling me?" I wondered.
"Hello, Sir", she called again.
"Yes?" I responded, turning around to face the door. I couldn't see either of the girls, as the kitchen was not visible from where I was standing.
"Do you have some soap?" came Zara's voice.
"Yes, it's in the bathroom", I answered, still working up the courage to move further.
"No, no. Cleaning soap, I mean, soap powder."
"That should be there too."
"Can't find it, sir." This was Zenub's voice.
"This is it", I said to myself, "here I come!" I walked out of the bedroom and into the little passage. The first things I noticed were the wide smiles on the girls' faces. They were standing at the kitchen door, looking directly at my fully erect penis.
I walked right upto them, as I had to enter the kitchen for the soap they wanted. It was below the kitchen sink. They stood leaning on either side of the door, looking down at my flagpole.
"Excuse me", I said, gesturing that I wanted to enter the kitchen.
They moved aside slightly, allowing me just enough space to go in. The smiles on the girls' faces had turned into grins. I turned sideways to move past them and felt Zenub's breasts touch my back. My penis brushed Zara's jeans and left a patch of precum on it. I went to the sink and bent down for the soap, fully aware of the view I was presenting to the girls.
"Here it is", I said holding up the soap, with trembling hands.
"Thank you", Zara said, taking it from me.
I stood in front of them, looking around, as if to check whether they had done a good job. There wasn't much to be done, of course, as I always kept my apartment neat and tidy.
I came out of the kitchen, sideways again, because they were still at the door, although they had moved slightly inside the kitchen. Each of them stood with her hands crossed in front of her crotch. This time I felt Zenub's hands on my penis and Zara's on my buttock. "Did they deliberately place their hands like that?" I wondered.
So there I was, in the living room now - and the girls were in the kitchen. The ice being broken, I thought, there was no point going back to the bedroom. I decided to spend the rest of the hour parading around in the buff in full view of the girls. I could hear them giggling and talking to each other in Arabic.
I switched on the TV and the central air-conditioner and moved across to the corner of the living room where I kept my treadmill. I put on my socks and sports shoes and started walking. The noise of the belt sliding over the rollers brought Zenub out of the kitchen. The moment she saw me she burst out laughing and ran back in. I increased the walking speed and lifted my arms vertically over my head. Zenub came out again, followed by Zara. They stood there, looking at me, both laughing like mad. All pretence of house-cleaning was forgotten now.
