I had been to Amman on several trips to do presentations for this publishing company. I had spent the last few years flying from one end of the middle east to the next. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see much of these places apart from the dusty views from many a hotel room.  This was only a short trip however so I would be in and back on the plane to Beirut.

Due to the fact that I was involved in the educational marketing of these books, it was no surprise that the clientele often tended to be female. First impressions are vital so I always made sure that I had my grey chequered three-piece suit dry cleaned, my black shoes shiny and spotless and my white shirt immaculately snug. When I went into the room I was very self-assured and I knew that I could sell "Reading for Mastery" to the delegates in front of me.

Even though I was in my early forties I could still receive the odd head turn. I was used to locals in Jordan, Egypt and Lebanon comparing me to a film star so it was nice to receive suggestive looks from some of the contingent on the front row. Occasionally I could feel some of them biting their lips and playing with their hair, particularly when I was answering questions about the scheme.

At the end, I was able to receive various orders and emails were exchanged. I.promised to talk to them directly about the needs for their schools upon my return to HQ.  Many of the delegates were from the middle east but due to the cultural differences it was considered socially unacceptable to cross that line. Most were married, like myself, but I would be surprised if most were happy. Most of these women had such beautiful dark and smooth olive skin and the attention to the way they applied their eyeliner added to their mystique. I have always been attracted to middle-eastern women; they have incredible natural beauty and such piercing brown eyes. Even the most conservative, veiled, middle-eastern ladies have this enchanting suspense about them.

Upon arrival at the airport, there was a massive queue at check-in but it was moving quickly. Suddenly I felt a slight nudge of a luggage trolley behind me so I turned around. "Oh I'm so sorry," was the reply. "I don't know why I used a trolley as I only have one suitcase." I just smiled and looked at the beauty queen in front of me.

"Weren't you just at the training at the Sheraton?" immediately recognising her.

"Erm yes...you gave a really good presentation. My school really like the scheme..." clearly forgetting my name. "Sean," I forgiving replied.

"You are Salwa from BSM in Oman?" Her eyes widened as I seemed to remember her very basic details and her eyebrows raised. "I went to your school a few years back when I worked for BSO." Salwa was still taken aback.

We chatted solidly about work that we never felt the queue disappear until we were called to check in. Salwa was an older Jordanian lady in her mid to late forties and had worked all over the middle east. She had this elegant radiant red-tinted hair and the smoothest skin. Her slender figure was a little curvy but it gave her femininity and grace that any woman regardless of age would die for. Her smile just glowed and any man would be spellbound by her deep expressive eyes. Wearing a snug yet long black and gold dress, she walked as gracefully as any cat walk model topped off with black stilettos that added to her natural beauty.

By chance, we would be sat on the same row and got a free upgrade to business class. We proceeded smoothly through passport control and ambled into duty-free. I was looking through the perfumes and of course, there was the typical ambush from the attractive female sales representatives trying to flog the latest overpriced fragrances from Dior and Chanel.

"I think your wife would love that on you," came a sudden tap on the shoulder and a delicate whisper in the ear. I turned and Salwa then gestured to her neck. "Maybe you should buy this for her." I leaned across to quickly smell her smooth tanned neck with her name in Arabic draped in gold across it. The scent was so sweet and appetising and it was a fragrance that I had always loved.

On Salwa, it smelt completely different and almost magical on her almost regal body. "Erm...yes...it's very nice and smells lovely on you," I replied somewhat hesitantly. She gazed into my eyes and lightly touched my arm and said, "Your wife is a very lucky woman." I felt a little awkward but at the same time it was not the first time I had received such a compliment. Nor was I averse to the advances of females in the past. "I don't think she is as I'm not the best husband," I confessed.

"Not many men are faithful, Sean. It's impossible for any woman to have a guy like you to herself," she added regretfully. Following a few purchases at Duty-free, we went into a Costa where we paid the typical extortionate airport rates for two tall cappuccinos. Salwa and I discussed various things, particularly the pros but mainly cons of married life. She confessed that she was unofficially separated from her husband and that was mainly due to work and her strong sex drive. Completely unaccustomed to hearing this from many Arab women, I delved deeper.

"Well Sean, marriage is a man-made prison. We are all doing time." I smiled suspiciously and said, "Have you been watching Seinfeld?"

She laughed and replied, "You got me! I was in Chicago for about five years and Seinfeld kept me going when I was studying. Couldn't live there again though."

Every sip of coffee was followed by a smile, a raise of her brow and then there was her sweet aroma smacking my senses with a million endorphins. I could have stayed there all night but sadly our flight was imminent. At least that was what I thought until an announcement echoed confirming that our flight had been cancelled due to issues in Beirut. We went to the MEA desk where they said that we would be booked on the flight tomorrow morning. Fortunately, they had arranged for us to stay in the Hilton just next to the airport.

Fortunately, we had no luggage to collect so we quickly managed to get the free shuttle to the hotel. Sitting next to Salwa, I was thinking how miraculous yet how dangerous this could potentially be. I felt her hand briefly touching my lap. "Surely accidentally," I thought to myself. I then tapped the smooth silky dress covering her legs.
When we arrived, I disembarked first, chivalrously offering her my hand for her to step safely onto the pavement and through the huge revolving doors of the hotel.

We checked in relatively quickly and our rooms were on the same floor. The bellboy looked at us and grinned as the lift doors closed. I could feel Salwa looking at me through the mirror as we slowly ascended ten floors. We wheeled about twenty metres to my room. Salwa was a few doors along.

Once inside my room, I released my tie and unbuttoned two buttons on my shirt. The room was pretty spacious, backing onto the runway and of course a king sized bed. I was about to shower and consider going out for something to eat when the phone rang. "Hi, Sean!"
"E zayak Salwa?" was my reply.
"I didn't know you spoke Arabic," she giggled. "Can you come to my room a minute because for some reason my AC doesn't work?"

I quickly put my shoes on and knocked on her door. When she opened it, she was wearing her white Hilton bath robe. Suddenly the door closed and the AC was working fine. Turning around about to leave, my jaw dropped when I noticed Salwa had dropped her robe to reveal her goddess body wearing only a black laced bra and matching French knickers. Her black shoes were still on her flawless feet, her hands confidently on her waist and her foot tapping the tiled floor lightly. "Sorry Sean. I wanted to ask whether you think my husband will like this lingerie that I bought from Victoria's Secret."

"Well," I replied, "You look absolutely beautiful and even if he disapproves, you can't take it back now you have worn it."
"Indeed I can't," Salwa purred as she edged closer and closer to me. "I guess I will have to take it off." Salwa stared deeply at me as her eyes widened and her mouth opened before slowly moving her hands behind her back and unclipping her bra. Her teeth momentarily scraped over her bottom lip as her beautifully natural round breasts appeared before me. Her dark nipples grew as did the erection in my trousers. Then Salwa lowered her arms and slipped her hands into the sides of her panties. They dropped lightly to the floor and her heels slipped effortlessly out of them.

Her sex was the perfect pink flower with butterflyesque wings for her sweet glistening labia. Salwa reached down and grabbed my crotch. My heart was beating fast as she unzipped my trousers. Eagerly, she rubbed her hand over my pink steel. "My oh my, Mr Sean! What do we have here?" My trousers dropped and Salwa slipped her hand into my pants grabbing my pink steel shaft. "I was right. Your wife is a lucky woman. Very lucky. But tonight, I'm feeling lucky." As she said this, she cupped my scrotum and shuffled my balls like a pair of dice.

Passionately, the tips of our tongues met each other as she massaged my cock. I felt her smooth peachy ass as our lips rubbed against each other. Salwa proceeded to unbutton my shirt and it heavily dropped to the ground. My white flesh was being invaded by the desires of this tanned eastern goddess. Her red hair brushed my shoulders as I held her face, kissing her neck in the process. Her hands rubbed over the hairs on my chest as she lowered herself, legs parted and perched on the floor where she took me in her mouth. Her warm tongue stretched the length of my shaft and she groaned at the hard treat I provided her with.

The long mirror on the wall captured the perfect image of her ass suspended about ten cm from the ground. On her lower back was a tattoo displaying a thorny stem and three red roses. It was so sexy and a far cry away from the conservatism I had always associated with middle eastern ladies. One hand was on my cock and the other had clearly disappeared between her smooth thighs.

My erection was at its max and I lifted Salwa up and placed her tenderly on the white sheets that had clearly been turned over before my arrival. Our naked bodies slid over each other and she whispered in my ear. "Sean baby. Put that massive dick in my wet slot. I'm yours tonight." With that, my hard cock slowly disappeared in her wet middle eastern fuck hole. Our plane may not have taken off that night but our devilish desires that probably stemmed back from check-in definitely had.

Our tongues were rubbing over each other as the slick sounds of my deep penetration were welcomed by her very accommodating vulva. She lightly rubbed her clit and cupped my balls as my thrusts become increasingly sensitive and meaningful. Our eyes magnetised in common anticipation, Salwa's heels slipped off her feet and clacked sweetly on the ground. 

Clearly, this was a sex goddess who was not appreciated or serviced adequately by her husband. Our nerve endings were starting to spread like wild fire to our sexes. Salwa locked her legs across my butt and there was only one direction I was going in. Her eyes spoke to me to do the most desirable thing. "Yes, baby. I want your gorgeous sperm Fill me with every single drop of your English DNA." With that, Salwa exploded in total submissive pleasure as I shot two massive loads of my hot seed into her. This was then followed by two smaller but still powerful, electrifying releases. We collapsed in frenetic pants and animalistic groans as our devilish desires had reached their climax. Salwa was still throbbing as my softening organ loosened from her flowing sex. I then rolled next to her.

Soon, we looked up at the ceiling feeling completely fulfilled and yet I knew I would want more. Salwa then leaned over, kissed my lips and said, "I'm hungry. Do you fancy going somewhere to eat or shall we order in?"