By the end of May, the streets of Damascus were sizzling hot. Unusual weather patterns forced a heat wave into the country and sent everybody sweating. Like in the really hot summer months, life was only bearable in a room with a well-functioning air condition.
This was reason enough for me to plan for a short escape to some – at least slightly – cooler temperatures along the coast. Since it had been quite a while since I had last gone to Beirut, the capital of Lebanon just across the mountain ranges, I decided to spend the weekend out of Syria. Besides, Beirut was known for its cosmopolitan atmosphere and buzzing nightlife and a little touch of Western culture was certainly bound to do me good.
My last sexual experience in Syria was still very much alive in my head, and I took my moments to recall getting intimate with those two Arabian women in a truly unexpected way. Somehow I had a feeling it was not going to be a one-time story; the sensations and sexual energies that were unleashed amongst us felt too strong. However, none of them had called in the past two weeks, so I decided to put that story on the shelf, at least for the weekend. After getting back from Beirut, I would phone them to find out if there was the chance for yet another hot meeting.
With my entire mind frame thus set on Lebanon – and that included looking at some different kind of women than in Syria – I set off in one of the old American cars from the 60s and 70s that acted as service taxis between the two capitals. Border formalities were as usual straightforward and my arrival in Beirut was met by the late afternoon sunrays over the Mediterranean Sea.
I had chosen to spoil myself for this trip with one of the nicer hotels close to downtown; it was a secluded boutique hotel with really nice fittings and very friendly staff that made me feel at home. Checked in with a welcoming smile, I put my bag down in the room and stepped out to the balcony.
The view out over the ocean was stunning, so I did at first not realize the rather tiny space where I had to sit down. After a while, though, I came to assess the architectural features of my balcony, which seemed unusually crooked. Obviously, this was originally intended as a larger area and then separated from the adjacent room by a simple wooden construction. My further investigation revealed that one of the boards of said construction had come lose and I moved it aside to get a short peek on the other side.
'Lucky me,' I thought by myself when discovering that the neighbouring room had an even smaller balcony. Oddly enough, the glass door stood in an unusual angle just half a meter away from the wooden separation, revealing a full view of the king-sized bed inside.
Suddenly, someone entered the room and moved straight towards the balcony door. Instinctively, I snapped the loose board back in place – just in time not to reveal my presence. The door was opened and a woman's voice made herself heard: "Look, honey, this is such a wonderful view!"
'Oh God, some loud couple next to my room, this can be funny,' I muttered to myself. But I decided that nothing was going to spoil the view of the oncoming sunset and settled back in my chair.
The female voice came on again, this time less shrieking and more insisting: "Rule number one on romantic weekend: don't miss the romantic sunset!"
This time, the man responded with a deep, sounding voice: "You will get enough romanticism by tonight, I can promise you that."
"What you mean is sex, not romanticism. But as you very well know, the more romantic the foreplay, the more intense the sex afterwards; that's a well-proven women's rule!"
There was a stirring when the man stepped out onto the balcony and spoke again: "But don't say later I have not warned you. I am dying to make love to you, I have been all this week and I was counting the hours and the minutes until I finally could be back together with you. Your husband has no idea you are still in Beirut?"
She laughed in a conspiratorial and sympathetic way: "He thinks I have gone up the coast to see some remote part of my family. So we just have to make sure that no one sees me out in the streets, and especially not with you!"
The sound of kissing was followed by his deep voice: "So we just stay here in the room and make wild, passionate love all day and all night. I am so hungry for you; I could eat you right now."
"Oh Basil, I would love you to do that but I have to eat something first. I haven't had anything since breakfast this morning. What do you say, we go down to the restaurant and have some nice appetizers, before we come up here and I..." The rest of her proposal was not audible for my ears, but a chuckle by the man called Basil suggested that it must have been to his liking.
I was torn between being angry at the prospect of unwanted nightly noise next to my room and the familiar stirring in my pants. What should I make of this? Either I would have to stay out very late until they got over with their business – or maybe there would be ways to enjoy this spectacle for myself...
Cautiously, I pulled away the board and peered over. The glass door was shut, but the curtains were wide open and I could see the couple from behind just leaving the room. If the curtains remained like that I would have a prime viewing spot to their play ground. The thought of watching a couple engaged in an intimate embrace had never actually occurred to me as exciting. However, now that the chance for it presented itself unexpectedly, I kind of got to like the idea of observing them.
I decided to give it a try: I would get down to the restaurant and see if I liked them as a couple; maybe they were totally ugly and I could forget the whole thing anyway.