I had travelled extensively in my life, for leisure and through my work, but it had mainly been through Europe, North America and on occasion, the Far East. I had never been to North Africa or the Middle East, or any country that was more conservative and predominantly Muslim in culture. So when my work sent me on a week-long trip to visit our offices in Morocco, I was excited and also apprehensive about visiting. I read as much as I could online before going, to make sure I didn't say anything that might cause offence, and read as many guidebooks as I could on the flight over, but I also knew that my team in Marrakesh were used to visiting more Western countries and cultures and would host me very well.

I stepped off the plane at Marrakesh airport, and the heat hit me, a type of heat I had never experienced before. I collected my luggage and was greeted by Hasan, from our Marrakesh office in the arrival hall, who greeted me warmly and told me that he had made arrangements for a car to take me to the hotel, and the same driver would be at my disposal for the week and would take me to and from the office and to and from the Medina in the evenings if I wanted to dine outside of the hotel and to and from any work functions. As it was Saturday, he informed me I could head to the hotel and also take a day at leisure tomorrow, and the driver, Amine, was going to collect me on Monday morning at 09:00.

The drive to the hotel was full of noise, aroma and colour. I had never seen anything quite like it. There were sights I had expected. Market traders by the side of the road, Horse and carriages mingling with cars on main busy roads, traditional Muslim dress of the people. However, I did see signs of some of the locals, particularly younger ones, adopting a less conservative style and a more modern, western style. Young men in football jerseys and jeans, and some of the young women, the incredibly beautiful young women, shunning the traditional Hijab for clothes that were more casual and showed their faces.

We arrived at the hotel, and the company had treated me to a large, 5-star resort-style hotel. This style was quite common in Marrakesh: to be so close to a busy, bustling city, but to have a hotel that felt like you were in the middle of nowhere, with acres of grounds, gardens, pools and lots of individual buildings of Villas, riads, and various facilities. The lobby was large, open-air, and had a big fountain at the centre. I was greeted at the entrance by the bellhops, who opened the door and took care of my luggage and walked me through to the front desk. A woman in a Grey blazer and matching pencil skirt greeted me. I noted her name badge: Kamelia, Guest Service Manager.

Her dark black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was dressed quite differently from some of the staff who did wear traditional Muslim attire. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked to greet me, extending her hand, which I shook.

"Welcome, Sir. I am Kamelia, the head of Guest Services here, and your company has asked me to ensure that everything runs smoothly for you. My apologies, but your room is not quite ready. Whilst you wait, maybe I can offer you a tour of the hotel grounds and facilities?" she suggested.

"Yes, thank you, that would be helpful," I replied.

"The grounds are quite extensive, so we will take a golf cart," she suggested as she waved one of the young men at the front door to bring one over. Soon we were cruising along the maze of pathways lined with olive trees and immaculate gardens. She pointed out the spa, the various restaurants, the rooftop bar overlooking the garden and various other things as we drove along. I couldn't help my eyes drifting onto her olive-skinned legs, and the curve of her calves as her foot pressed the accelerator of the golf cart, and her red-painted fingernails on the steering wheel.

"Kamelia, your English is very good, and it has a hint of a British accent as well, if I am not mistaken?" I inquired of her. She confirmed that she had actually lived and grown up for many years in England. Born in Morocco to a Moroccan father and a British mother and moved there as a child. She had been schooled in London. So, by her own admission, she felt more British than Moroccan, hence the more western attire....there were other staff members who incorporated a hijab or jilbab into their work uniform, whereas she didn't, and had makeup and more skin on show. She was not a practicing Muslim, as she had not reacted when the traditional call to prayer had been audible from the speaker of a nearby mosque when she was showing me round.

We arrived back at the reception, and Kamelia handed me her business card. "Anything you need, sir, anything at all, please call me."

Another, younger female member of staff met us. I noted her name badge - Khira: Guest Services.

She was one of Kamelia's team, and like Kamelia, didn't wear a headscarf or any kind of covering. She had a uniform-issue knee-length dress that was peach-brown in colour, with white detailing. Her shoulder-length black hair framed her incredibly pretty face, and my eyes were caught by a very intricate and pretty gold ankle chain around one of her ankles. She was incredibly beautiful, and I almost couldn't speak. "Good afternoon, Sir. I am Khira. Welcome to our hotel. Your room is ready now; I can show you to it," she offered, her voice gentler than Kamelia's, with a hint of shyness.

"Thank you, Khira. Please, will my luggage be brought up?" I asked

"Yes, it will follow shortly; please follow me," she said with a smile and a flash of her white teeth.

She led me to the elevator, and after we rode the 4 floors to my floor, I followed her down the corridor. Her dress swayed as she walked; her hips were full and her waist narrow. I couldn't help but watch the bounce of her ass underneath the fabric of her dress. I guessed she was in her early twenties. She unlocked the door to my room and glided inside, gesturing at the amenities: The king bed, the balcony overlooking the pool, the spacious bathroom and the seating area.

"If you need anything, just dial zero on the phone; my team and I will be able to assist you," she said as she handed me the key card.

"Thank you, Khira. I will be sure to." Her smile as she left was small but genuine, and I found myself eager to see her again.

I had to wait nearly 1 hour for my luggage; it seemed there had been a mix-up with which building the assigned room was in, and I had a frantic knock at my door, with a young man hurriedly bringing my bags in and apologizing profusely for the delay, which I really had no issue with. I told him not to worry as I tipped him.

The following morning, as I sat in the restaurant enjoying a delicious breakfast, Kamelia strutted past me, extending her hand and brushing my shoulder as she greeted me. "Good morning, sir. I trust you slept well. Did you have a chance to use the bar or one of the restaurants last night?" she asked. I advised that I had been for a drink on the rooftop bar, but had been quite tired from my journey and ordered a meal to take in my room on my balcony before getting an early night.

I had planned to spend the day just at the hotel pool and doing as little as possible, given the fairly busy schedule I had for the week ahead. When I was back in my room, getting ready to head out, I heard a gentle knock at my door. I opened it to see Khira standing there. My heart skipped a beat as she stood there, and I invited her in.

"Sir, I heard about the mix-up with your luggage yesterday; please accept our most sincere apologies for the inconvenience," she said as she placed a tiered serving stand on my table, filled with delicious-looking dates, sweet Moroccan briouats, and Ghriba almond cookies. I told her that it really was quite alright, but thanked her nonetheless for the offering. She set it down, and we stood in front of each other for a slightly awkward moment, looking each other in the eye. I don't know what came over me, but I leaned in and kissed her, which took her by surprise, but she didn't pull away and returned the kiss, passionately for a few seconds, before she remembered herself and pulled away from me nervously.

"Err, yes, well, if there is nothing else you need, I will head back to my desk," she stammered as she made her way to the door.

I spent the rest of the day by the pool, sipping cold beers and the occasional Diet Coke, running through the moment in my head. She had kissed me back. When we had looked each other in the eye, it seemed like she wanted me to kiss her. She is so very beautiful; I can't stop thinking about her. All the thoughts consumed my mind. I took a few laps in the beautiful infinity pool, trying to think of something else. But I couldn't. I occasionally saw her, crossing the courtyard from reception, attending to other customers and running other errands. Later in the day, she walked close by to my sunlounger, and I called her over.

"Hello, Sir." She forced a smile. "Are you having a pleasant day?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you. Khira, I know it's forward of me, but would you like to join me for a drink in my room later, alcoholic or otherwise, whichever you prefer. I would really like to get to know you." She hesitated, her dark eyes looking at me, and then her name was called from the other side of the pool; another guest needed assistance.

"I finish at 8pm....I will come to see you then?" she offered.

I nodded as she walked off. I went for a meal in the hotel restaurant, ensuring I was done by 8 and able to get showered and freshened up before she arrived. I paced my room, rehearsing what to say, aware of cultural boundaries I might be pushing. Then came a soft knock on the door.

I opened it to Khira and invited her in; she tentatively entered. She smelled of Jasmine and looked almost painfully pretty. We sat together on the small sofa and sipped wine. She accepted a glass, saying that she wasn't actually especially religious. We talked about her family, her job at the hotel and her dreams of travelling, of getting out of Morocco and seeing other places. She felt stifled by the cultural expectations of her, and as she said, wasn't especially religious nor followed the Muslim traditions that much, hence her not wearing a headscarf or anything, similar to Kamelia.

As we spoke, she gradually shifted closer to me. She had slipped out of the flat black shoes she had been wearing all day, and eventually, lifted her legs up onto the sofa, which I took in my hands and placed in my lap. She had been on her feet all day, and as I took her pretty feet in my hands and started to knead along the soles and balls of them, she closed her eyes in appreciation. I ran my finger underneath the gold ankle chain I had seen. "This is very pretty," I remarked to her.

"Thank you, it was my grandmother's, given to her when she got married. It was handed down to me," she explained.

As my fingers circled the bone of her delicate ankle, she opened her eyes and looked at me. I leaned in to her and pressed my lips against hers, and she reached and took hold of my face, kissing me back, with tentative hunger that surprised me. I pulled away from her lips and leaned into her ear and whispered, "Come to bed with me?"

She stood up and held my hand, allowing me to guide her across the room to my bed. I turned her around and kissed the back of her neck and shoulders, and unzipped her dress, which fell and pooled at her feet, revealing her delicate underwear and beautiful skin. I lay her down on the bed, and I took her small feet in my hands, kissing each instep and pressing my lips to her ankles and calves, working my way up.

I reached the damp cotton of her panties, and I slipped my fingers under the elastic of them and slid them past her hips and down her legs, revealing a dark triangle of well-groomed pubic hair. I reached to unclasp her bra, and her breasts spilled free, small and firm. I spread her legs, and her pussy was already slick. I lowered my mouth to her and tasted her sweet taste, and she gasped as my tongue circled her clit and then moaned as I lapped slowly and deliberately at her lips. I worked my tongue onto her clit again as I slid two fingers inside her and curled them to stroke her walls, making her hips lift off the bed as she groaned at my touch.

"Oh...Oh my! Oh yes!" she breathed as she ran her fingers through my hair.

I ate her pussy until her thighs clamped round my face and she came with a sharp cry, her body convulsing in pleasure. When she relaxed, I crawled up her body, my cock hard and aching. She reached down and took it in her hand, wrapping her fingers round it and stroked it in her palm a few times. I went to guide it to her entrance, but she stopped me.

"No, I want to do for you what you did for me," she said, surprising me. She pushed me onto my back and leaned down to take my cock in her mouth. Her technique was unpracticed, but eager. She licked the shaft and sucked on the head, trying to take me deeper, gagging slightly but persisting. I let her set the pace and enjoyed her mouth until I was trembling, on the edge of orgasm.

"Stop," I said, gasping. "I want to be inside you." I pulled her up, and she straddled me and sank onto my cock, making me gasp as I entered her. She began to ride me as I held her hips, guiding her rhythm, watching her as she lost herself in the moment.

"More," she whispered. "Please, harder." I flipped her onto her back and got on top of her and thrust into her, feeling my cock stroke the walls of her pussy as she wrapped her legs around my waist. The bed creaked as her moans got louder and I felt the pressure building inside me.

"Oh Khira! I'm going to come inside you!" I said through grunts.

"Yes, please...do it!"

I let go, and I emptied into her, groaning as I did; the sensation of it filling her was incredible. She cried out as her own orgasm hit her as well, and she pulled me close. We lay together on the bed afterwards; she ran her fingers over my chest.

"I must go," she said reluctantly. "It is forbidden to stay in guests' rooms." She really didn't want to go; she had enjoyed exploring her desires and breaking some of the cultural norms that she felt trapped by.

As much as I didn't want her to go, I didn't want her to get in trouble. I kissed her and asked if I could see her again.

"Yes, tomorrow, but I finish a bit later, at 9pm if that is ok?" she asked.

I said it was fine and I saw her to the door and watched her walk away into the night.

The following day was my first day of work. I tried to be as enthusiastic as I could as I greeted my Moroccan counterparts and they showed me around the offices, and we discussed the matters I had been sent to oversee. But all I could think of was Khira. After work had finished for the day, the company advised me they had made arrangements for a meal at one of the top Rooftop restaurants in the Medina, overlooking the Jemaa el-Fna Square. I was keen to get back to the hotel, but couldn't be rude, and I figured I had time to eat and still get back to the hotel in time for Khira to finish work.

The meal was excellent, and the work colleagues made me very welcome, but as I looked at my watch, I made my excuses that I was very tired and wanted to be fresh, ready for another long day tomorrow. I called my driver, Amine, to collect me at the end of the street where the restaurant was. He drove me speedily back to the hotel, and I headed to my room to await her arrival.

The knock came, and I welcomed her in with a smile, which she returned. We took to the sofa again, and I took her feet in my lap after her long day again and massaged her feet for her; she sighed, leaning back. We were interrupted by a knock at the door. I answered to see Kamelia at the door, still in her Grey blazer and skirt. She smiled as I answered.

"Good evening, Sir. I just wanted to check that everything is satisfactory with your stay so far; the doorman advised me you had just returned from your work."

Before I could answer, she looked beyond me and saw Khira on the sofa, and Khira's face went pale.

"Khira? What are you doing in a guest's room?"

Khira stood, stammering, "I...I was just...please don't..."

"Have you been having sex with guests?" Kamelia stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

I stepped between them. "It was my idea; I invited her. Please don't blame her." I asked Kamelia. She looked at me; her expression turned away from anger, but to curiosity.

"Has she been good? Upholding the standards we expect at the hotel?" she enquired.

The question took me by surprise, but I assured Kamelia that Khira had been exceptional and I was very fond of her.

"Show me," Kamelia said quite bluntly. "Show me what you have done for him," she directed at Khira, and Kamelia stepped towards me, noticing the bulge in my trousers, unbuckled my belt and unzipped me. Khira looked at me, uncertain, and I nodded to her. She knelt in front of me and took my cock in her hand, stroking it to full hardness, and then took me in her mouth, more nervous than yesterday due to the unexpected observer.

I closed my eyes as Khira sucked my cock. Kamelia let out a slow breath as she watched, and then knelt and joined Khira on the floor in front of me. "That's good, Khira," she encouraged. "May I?" she asked. Khira popped my cock out of her mouth, and Kamelia took it in her hand, running her hand along the length before taking me fully in her mouth. I remembered that Kamelia had been brought up and educated in England, including her University days, so I needn't have been surprised at her skill with a cock in her mouth.

I took Khira by the hand and stood her up, unzipping her dress and sliding it to the floor. Kamelia looked up to see Khira in her underwear and stood, and gestured for Khira to take over again. Kamelia started to unbutton her blouse, and I reached to unhook her skirt, which fell to the floor and she kicked away as she removed her blouse. I pulled her breasts free from her bra and took her nipple in my mouth, nibbling and sucking it, making Kamelia moan as I did. Kamelia reached down to Khira and cupped her chin, and got her to stand and encouraged her to do the same as me, and we both licked and sucked Kamelia's breasts.

We then led Khira to the bed, and Kamelia and I slid her panties off. I leaned into Khira and asked if she was ok. She nodded nervously but assured me she was fine and was enjoying it. I got between her legs, and I lapped at her pussy, as Kamelia reached in and circled Khira's clit with her fingers. We both worked on her pussy until we guided her to a powerful orgasm. Khira screamed and covered her mouth as she came hard. Kamelia leaned over and licked at Khira's pussy as she orgasmed, tasting her sweet juices that I had savoured yesterday.

I climbed up between Khira's legs and felt Kamelia take hold of my cock and guided me into Khira, and she massaged my balls as I penetrated her young colleague. Khira moaned as I stroked my cock into her and whimpered at the momentary loss when Kamelia took my cock out and took me in her mouth again, before sliding me back in. I couldn't last any longer, and I cried out as I spurted some thick ropes of semen inside Khira, the sensation just as wonderful as it had been yesterday, heightened by Kamelia massaging my balls as I emptied them.

The three of us lay together, Khira panting and getting her breath, finally feeling a bit more comfortable with Kamelia being there. Kamelia stroked at my cock, very clearly trying to rouse it, which didn't take long; her manicured and red-painted fingers looked beautiful wrapped around my cock and soon it was hard and ready again.

Kamelia said that she wanted me this time, and she wriggled out of her knickers and pulled me close as she lay on her back. I went to enter her, and she stopped me, guiding me further down, and encouraging me to enter her ass. She used some of the juices that were dripping from her to help lube up her tight asshole and pushed my cock inside. I gasped at how tight it was as it slid in, inch by inch, and she moaned and closed her eyes as I filled her. She lay back on the bed, and I held on to her ankles for leverage as I pumped into her. Khira watched in wide-eyed wonder at the sight of me sodomising her boss. She tentatively reached over and ran her fingers on Kamelia's skin as I fucked her. Kamelia opened her eyes, and guided Khira's hand down to her pussy and encouraged her to finger her whilst I fucked her ass.  

Khira pumped her fingers into Kamelia, knowing generally what to do, from doing it to herself over the years. Emboldened by Kamelia's reaction, she leaned in and explored her pussy with her tongue.

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Kamelia as she bucked at the feeling of me filling her ass and Khira eating her pussy. We continued like that until Kamelia suddenly convulsed in an intense orgasm, shortly followed by me as I pumped more cum inside her ass, a guttural groan from me as I did.

Kamelia sat up and surveyed the scene. She could see Khira embracing me and holding me close and could see that I was fond of her. She began to get dressed and looked at the two of us.

"Don't worry about normal rules, Khira; I think we all broke them this evening. I know it's not normally allowed, but you may stay in his room overnight if you wish."

Kamelia got dressed, and I walked her to the door and thanked her for allowing Khira to stay.

The following morning, after Khira had left and gone to work, a staff member knocked on my door, delivering a large fruit basket and fresh pastries, with a handwritten note: Customer satisfaction is our highest priority.- Kamelia

For the remainder of my trip, I welcomed Khira to my room as often as our work schedules allowed, and I was very sad to leave Marrakesh. But Khira had expressed interest in travelling and hopefully visiting England in the future. Maybe one day, I would get to see her again, but I would always be grateful for that week and the wonderful time I had with Khira, and of course Kamelia.