My name is Patricia, Pati to most, Trish to some, Patricia to no-one since my parents had died. I was on a holiday, soaking up the sun and getting some rest and recovery time. I had suffered a really bad session at the hands of some well hung studs at a sleazy porno filming, and needed to recoup. A friend, George, had arranged for this holiday for me, bought and paid for, in return for one little favour, saying that all I had to do was bring a memory stick with me and hand it over to someone. Well, that is easy. It wasn't drugs or anything like that, and so I thought 'Easy Peasy'. The only downside, I guess, had been when the delivery boy turned up with my tickets and travel arrangements he had expected to be thanked. So I had said, 'Thank you very much'. That wasn't what he had meant. He had pushed me back into my house and fucked me on my lounge floor. Oh, so that is Arabic for 'thank you' is it? Well, okay, I suppose, and here I am in a luxury 5 star hotel.
Dinner was ok, a buffet which meant I could pick and choose and go for all the savoury things I like. It was quite a varied buffet, designed I supposed to cater for guests from all over the world. I walked back to my room, talking the long scenic route to take in some of the hotel. They had a gym, I would try and find out if they had a women's only section, no way I was going to work out with big bulging biceps boys all trying to out do each other, no way. The pools looked good, and I liked the look of one that had a nice secluded grassy area, very quiet, perhaps I could lay there unmolested and get a tan. I found the book swap library, useful for when I have run out of reading material and a couple of other restaurants, a Japanese sushi, no thank you very much, and an Italian, I might give that a try, partial to a dish of meat balls.
Laughing at my own dirty thoughts I got back to my room and decided early to bed, after all, I wanted to be up with the sun. I was quite happy sleeping all the time it was dark, but I didn't want to waste any precious daylight.
My door knocked. I guessed it was probably room service for something and half concentrating, I opened the door.
"Good evening. I believe that you have a package for me." A tall man stood there, he was dressed in the full Arabian regalia, a white dishdasha from shoulders to floor, a white ghutra on his head and a blue band holding it in place.
"I don't know. Who are you?" It occurred to me that he could be anyone, and just handing something over to the first person that knocked may not be such a sensible idea.
"I am the person who is paying for this room" he said. "I have a friend, George, he has made the arrangements for me in England. I would like my package please."
Well, I guess if he knew that much, then, I ought to hand it over.
"Right, okay, I will go and get it then." I stepped away from the door and went to the small safe in the wardrobe, opening it using my secret code, I always used my mother's birthday, easy to remember and well, probably not easy for someone else to guess. I turned to go back to the door to hand it over and was startled, he had stepped in behind me, I hadn't expected that, I think I jumped two paces to the left of my skin.
"Oh, I didn't expect you to be behind me." It was a bit lame, but what else could I say.
"My package."
I handed across the small USB stick that I had carried across from England. I had attached it to my keyring of house keys and it came across in my handbag as hand luggage. No one had remarked on it at security, exactly as expected, and low key as instructed.
"You like your hotel?"
"Yes, thank you, it is very nice. I like nice and quiet, I am looking forward to a few days just laying in the sun."
"You are grateful then."
"Well yes." Oh, here we go.
"Perhaps you would extend me the courtesy of perhaps showing me your gratitude." Well, of course I would. Jesus I was getting a bit pissed off with this. Do people not accept a simple 'thank you' these days? Oh well. I closed the gap between us and put my hand on his abdomen and then slid it down to his groin. I found his half hard cock and gripped it through his dishdasha, and felt it twitch a little as it hardened more.
"This is nice," I said, "Would you like me to make it happy?"
"You know what you have to do."
I slipped my straps off my shoulders and undid the sip under my left shoulder. My dress slipped down and I stepped out of it, standing in just bra and panties. My bra was next off and then my panties. I stepped back to him ready to get under his clothes, but his hand was quicker, he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me onto my bed, pushing my shoulders so that I was kneeling on the floor, but laying face down on the bed. He pushed my legs apart with his feet, and then he fumbled between my cheeks. Christ, does no one know what bloody foreplay is. I felt his cock push at my fanny and without any ceremony, and with a slightly painful push, he was in.
Hard cock, not overly big as with most Arab men in my experience, but adequate. He obviously had simply lifted his clothes as I felt them across my back as he fucked me. His cock had a fattish end and it gave a nice sensation in my fanny as it rubbed my insides, his balls were large and slapped against me as he built up speed. He had a hand in the middle of my back, holding me down on the bed, I couldn't even get to my fanny to rub my clit, and his weight across my back made it difficult to breath. He fucked hard and my fanny wrapped around his cock, feeling empty as he pulled out, feeling filled when he fucked in, small stabs of pleasure shot from my fanny each time he drove in, it wasn't so bad. Then he stopped. He pulled out of me without warning, leaving me feeling empty, and a little cold. I wanted him to put his cock back in and fuck me, but he pulled me back off the bed and twisted me round.
