Maya, Marjan & Me
There was no doubt that Marjan was totally and thoroughly smitten by Maya, my lovely wife. The very first time he had met her at a formal party for the multinational company Marjan and I worked for, he had been struck dumb by her visage, beauty, friendliness, dress sense and a few dozen other attributes. Maya may not have had classic movie star looks, but had a figure to die for and the overall package she brought to any table was spectacularly breathtaking. Marjan was just the latest victim of many wishing to pray at her temple. Not that she deliberately put any spells on anyone, it was just normal that those around her lost their orientation. Of course on that particular evening, with an event conducted around a large swimming pool at the swankiest of expat compounds in Jeddah where many of the senior managers lived, she was for all intents and purposes looking tastier than ever.
Maya had never shied away from showing a cheeky bit of skin. On the occasion, honouring the outgoing Chief Executive of the subsidiary, who happened to be Indian, she had decked herself in a sheer and revealing pink saree, with a backless floral blouse that left virtually everything above the waistline, except her tits, on show. Maya was quite used to being the belle of the ball at most events. Given the usual dark and ugly Indian wives of the rest of the staff, she easily stood out and was often asked to handle some party aspect or the other. Maya had been put in charge of managing the stock of booze that often is smuggled in through airline or embassy contacts into compound parties. The fact that she imbibed, but always within reason, made her the obvious choice. Since the CEO was not known as being averse to partying, she had made sure to place herself in his vicinity and with a bottle of his favourite brand in hand.
"Maya, with you serving me this water of life, I wonder if I should just stay here a few more years," Ramdas Sivalingam openly flirted with her, his arm going around her waist as she poured him yet another shot, "do you know I have the nicest beach house in Goa I'd love to invite just you to!"
"Why don't you take a seat while you have your drink, Ramdas Sahib, it would not be nice if you fell onto your face, and I will promise to stay by your side today," Maya suggested as she pushed him onto a nearby loveseat, "and who knows I may like a trip to Goa if Arsalan is also invited!"
As she moved to sit next to him, he pulled her onto his lap. Rather than make a scene at his boldness, she put her arms around his neck as if to balance herself and placed a kiss on his cheek. Her lipstick left a perfect impression of her lips. Ramdas turned his face to get a second impression making kiss on the other side. For the oddest reason, Maya pulled on his tie and gave him a third but much longer kiss directly onto his mouth. He had a big grin as she backed away.
There was a hush around the place at Maya's brazen behaviour. Geeta Ramdas, the CEO's wife seethed from afar but had to keep smiling and continue conversations with all and sundry. Throwing a fit at her husband's retirement party would not be wise, but she would take him to task later and often. I could see that the CEO's hands were exploring more than my wife's waist and had managed to get under her blouse and petticoat to fondle the bare skin of her boobs and backside. Maya did not seem to mind getting pawed. Nobody around made any comment since I was known as a terrorizer of the non-Saudi staff in the company. Anyway most of them had a hard on for Maya and wondered if later in the party she would bestow some generosity on them too.
Marjan meanwhile had fallen head over heels for the beauty being caressed by the old man. Unlike most others who would fantasize about her while trying to fuck their ugly wives, Marjan would have her in his dreams only and hand jobs would have to suffice that night and perhaps till he remained single.
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Marjan had been assigned to me as a new intern, straight out of the University of Petroleum and Minerals in Dhahran. Unlike the usual Saudi UPM student, he was a nationless Palestinian living off the largesse of the locals. His father had worked for a Saudi prince for many years and this enabled Marjan to have a much better lifestyle than most of his countrymen. There were two things that were incredibly striking about him. Firstly, there was no doubt that he was extremely handsome, yet with a sort of feminine demeanour, rather than being a hulking male type. His green eyes were a great talking point among many of the office wives, while the guys often wondered if he swung to the other side. The second was his extreme level of deference, which almost went to the level of subservience, to his seniors. There was rarely a day he was not running some errand or the other for me. Some gifts of food or other small items were almost a daily happenstance.
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Maya and I had been married for around four years when Marjan met her for the first time. Our son, Zulfikar had turned one a few weeks earlier and Maya had gone to great lengths in getting herself to her pre-marriage figure. Rarely a day went by without her putting in an athletic workout at the gym, the golf course or even in bed.
Maya had been a gregarious person from the start of our marriage and I had quickly learned that while she was adept at flirting with and twisting men around her finger, she had a definite line beyond which her generosity did not extend. Many a college classmate, office colleague, and even male relative had gotten a case of blue balls while accompanying her to restaurants, shopping, discos, the beach or elsewhere, often paying through their noses for the experience, and then discovering that her honey pot was not on any menu. She was not a cock tease but was not going to give it up to anyone but Mr. Right.
Thankfully I happened to be Mr. Right for her family and herself. Maya was tight, she was untouched and she was raring to go on our wedding night. She urged me on to great heights as I ruptured her hymen and lay claim to her virginal body. Maya did not lie back and just let me stuff it in. Rather she was an absolute tigress in bed and I had wedding night scratches on my back for a week or more. When I prodded her about being so unlike what one would expect from a Pakistani bride, she reminded me that her maternal grandmother was from Scandinavia and had met her husband at the court of one of the pre-partition rajas in India. That, of course, did not explain the ardour, but a large stack of Mills and Boon type of bodice ripping novels at her home in Islamabad gave me a better idea of what to expect in future.
Maya took to Jeddah with ease, making friends with Western ladies around the compound, within the liberal upper level Pakistani community in the city, and even with a bunch of Saudi females she met during her visits to the malls or other shopping venues. She had often joked with me about how numerous Saudi men had approached her, dropping their names and phone numbers on pieces of paper into her shopping cart with the hope that she would call for a sexual encounter. Of course she never did, but she had collected a fair pile of such notes in one of the nightstands in our bedroom. We often joked about what an affair with a Saeed Al-Ghamdi or a Fahad Al-Rasheed would be like, and then we would fuck in the imagined manner!
"Take me ruthlessly my raghead Sultan," she would giggle and egg me on, "fuck me like you do your camels, ravage my ass, hobble my legs, put a bit in my mouth, hump my humps!"
We were welcomed into diplomatic, governmental and business circles as a result of her networking. Babes, after all, do not lack for companionship, and though I was also considered a catch prior to getting hitched, Maya got the lion's share of the attention. Rarely did a weekend go by without us being at some sort of event, often one where attendees could unburden themselves from local diktat, drink the forbidden nectar, dress sexily, and let off steam. The farewell for the CEO was just such an event. While never a slouch and not scared of revealing a little skin at parties, Maya appeared to have pulled out the stops for this one picking a saree and blouse combination that would really show off many body parts. The saree was supposedly a garment under which a woman could protect her modesty. But what she wore, while not immodest, really put much of her on display. To be frank I was apprehensive at her skin show, but she allayed my fears.
"You like to have me around as a prize Arsalan and see others drool don't you," she nailed the argument, "and do you think it will hurt or help your chances in the company if I flirt a bit with the guy currently in charge and the fellow coming in to replace him!"
Maya was a popular choice as a dance partner as she seemed to have unbelievable reserves of energy, was a great dancer, easily was the prettiest female at the male dominated event, and was friendly and amenable to all who asked. Ten minutes after getting off the CEO's lap, and only because his wife pulled him away to meet someone, Maya was slow dancing with the current VP of Marketing, who was tipped to head the company. Needless to say, his hands were all over her too. But I knew deep in my heart that all the touching in the world was not going to bother her or me and, Satoshi Naruhito, the likely CEO designate would not be getting into her pants that evening or any to come.