Chapter 6

It was just six weeks later that I found myself once again traveling to Delhi, only this time with five days in Dubai to explore the possibilities of a new project there for my firm. While I had connected once in Dubai on my trip to India, I never spent any time there and was looking forward to checking out the city that had such a global reputation.

Needless to say, I was particularly keen on getting to Delhi and reconnecting with Simra, though having no idea if our sexual relationship would continue. Just being in her presence would have been award enough.

I flew on Emirates directly from New York City to Dubai. It was a long flight, but at least the company paid for business-class seats. As I settled into my seat, a lone cubicle along the side of the front of the plane, I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by Farha, who introduced herself as the purser for our flight. She was gorgeous, not unlike all the other stewardesses on the flight from different corners of the world. But Farha was striking, she had poise, a radiant smile, and iridescent olive/green/blue eyes. She had short-cropped hair, high cheekbones, and a long neck, something I find particularly sexy. I couldn’t tell exactly, but guessing she was north Indian.

“Mr. Jonathan Rossini, welcome aboard. I’m Farha and the purser for the flight. If you have any issues, please do not hesitate to ask for me.” She said as she leaned over to be head level with me, granting me a joyful view of her cleavage, which I struggled not to look at. She had a playful smile on her face though as she spoke.

Once we took off, the crew was busy with meal prep, despite that though she seemed to always find an opportunity to stop by and check on me, making sure I had whatever I needed. It was an all-night flight, so after the meal service was provided I went about setting up my little bed. Farha showed up with a special bed pad and pillow and helped me lay it out on the flatbed seat. Whether intentional or not, in the tight little space there were numerous times my arm rubbed up against her breasts, but she seemed unphased by the arousing brushes.

Rather than going to sleep though, we ended up chatting for a while, she was now officially off duty and was supposed to be in the hull where the crew has bunks for sleeping as they rotate duty. Surprisingly, she knew a bit about architecture and shared her own insights into Dubai and its different neighborhoods. I pushed her a little on where she was from and she just said Delhi, though lived here and there as her father was in government service. She was generally vague when it came to her past and family, but it didn’t seem to matter as our conversation was engrossing, talking about travel, cities, and architecture. Soon though, we both realized that we needed to get some sleep so she slipped away.

She visited a few more times when I was awake, and we chatted about this and that. While I did notice that she spent more time with me than other passengers, I realized that she was probably hit on regularly during her flights, so didn’t push her or anything. Perhaps that made her more comfortable. As we approached Dubai though, it was her that slipped me her number and told me to call if I wanted a tour guide of the city.

It was early afternoon when we arrived and our partners in Dubai arranged concierge service for me, so I was greeted immediately after deboarding and ushered through immigration and customs to a waiting car. As I was coming out, the flight crew was also exiting and Farha gave me a warm smile and put her thumb and pinky to her ear and mouth, giving the universal “call me” signal. Once I was settled in my limo ride to the Burj al Arab, I decided to call Farha, why waste time I thought.

She was pleasantly surprised and we agreed on meeting for dinner that night at the Burj. There was one thing she had to tell me though and she kept apologizing and letting me know if I wanted to cancel our dinner date, she would fully understand. I was confused and curious and let her know regardless, I greatly enjoyed her company and looked forward to getting to know her better. She hummed and hawed, but eventually confessed,

“I’m sorry, I should have said something, but you intrigue me and I so enjoy chatting with you, that, well, I’m sorry, but I am involved with someone. It isn’t what you think though, well, maybe it is, but there is more. This is weird, I know you don’t know me or anything, but my partner is a she. I’m a lesbian. There, I said it.”

Wow, needless to say, the way she was flirting, I certainly wasn’t expecting that, but I enjoyed her company tremendously, and let her know that I was still looking forward to dinner with her. She was grateful and excited, saying she had never been inside the Burj al Arab before, so was looking forward to the dinner.

When I arrived at the hotel though, I was greeted with another surprise, the most alluring Suraya, who worked for the major real estate development firm we were partnering with. Though in a full black abaya and the typical Emirati style of hijab, her dark eyes, high cheekbones, and radiant smile were engrossing. She was gorgeous. I don’t know why the gods were looking down upon me with such good fortune, but it certainly seemed like it was going to be a good week, at least in the eye-candy department, if not sexually. It looked like I’d have to wait for India for that and surprise Indrani with another visit!

Suraya waited while I settled into my room and showered, then we met in an office room in the hotel and she shared various plans and ideas for the construction project. She had studied at MIT, having been there a few years before I did my own studies at Harvard. She was impressive with some creative ideas, many of which were not fully accepted by her bosses.

Soon the evening adhan could be heard across the city and she suggested we go for an early dinner. I then told her of my plans but had to quickly explain that it wasn’t “like that”, and had to share Farha’s secret of being a lesbian. Her eyes seemed to widen, but she was quite accepting of the situation. After some discussion though I invited her to join us.

At first, I wasn’t sure how that was going to play out, but Farha and Suraya hit it off fabulously. I was certainly the envy of every man in the restaurant with two such beautiful women. After dinner the three of us went for a walk on the beach and then Suraya said she had to go. It turned out that they both lived in the Marina area of Dubai and Suraya offered Farha a ride home. I then fixed our plans for the next day with Suraya who was going to pick me up in the morning and both of them said they would take care of dinner plans the next night. At least I would get to enjoy their company further.

I met Suraya as scheduled and as we were driving over to the proposed building site for me to get a sense of the area and take plenty of pictures, she shared,

“Last night was delightful, I felt really comfortable spending time with you and it was a true pleasure getting to meet and know Farha. She is quite accomplished you know. But I will share one insight, she isn’t a lesbian. Bi maybe, but she has the biggest crush on you” she said while smiling and laughing.

“A crush? On me? Come on, but she has a girlfriend apparently. At least, that is what she told me.”

“Well, she lives with a group of other flight attendants, and is sexually involved with a couple of them, but not like a permanent girlfriend.”

“How did you find out all of this on your short drive home last night?”

“We women talk. Besides, I’m going to share something with you.”

Then Suraya shared the fact that she is in fact a member of the Dubai royal family, though distantly. Her mother is cousins with Sheikh Muhammad, the Emir of Dubai. But she is somewhat marginalized in the grand scheme of Dubai politics and social hierarchies. Though she was given a major position in one of the leading development companies, she is often ignored or overlooked. She was assigned this project because of her having studied in the U.S. with close ties to one of the partners in my firm. Though in her mid-30s, she was single. When I queried why she felt she was so marginalized and if it was because of her architectural and planning ideas, she said in part.

“But the real reason, and why I know Farha isn’t a lesbian is because I am. I don’t tell that to anyone, so I trust you. Though everyone seems to know. I don’t care anymore; their social policing and constraints are wearing me out.”

“Well, thank you for feeling comfortable enough to share. I value that we are able to open up so much. We’ll talk more about your ideas for the project, but, sorry, I can’t let this slip by, how do you know Farha isn’t lesbian? Is there some secret handshake or something?” I was laughing when I asked her so she know I was partly joking.

“No, no handshake, no certain look, just a feeling. First, she really does have a crush on you and is quite attracted to you, she even said so last night. Second, there are enough rumors out there that people know who I am and my sexual orientation, but she didn’t seem the least bit interested or concerned. So, I just venture to guess. I’ll tell you what, I’ll prove it to you this evening.”

“And how will you do that? Just ask her?”

“No, just wait. We’ll see.”

And with that our conversation turned back to work and stayed focused on work all day. She finally dropped me off back at the hotel and said she would send a car to pick me up for dinner, though she refused to tell me where.

Later that evening, Suraya’s driver took me to what looked like a very swanky building in the Marina area and parked underneath, instructing me to take a particular elevator up. I assumed there was some rooftop restaurant and was quite confused when I got into what was obviously a private elevator with only three buttons – parking garage, lobby, and penthouse. I opted for the penthouse. It was a private elevator that opened up to a magnificent view of the sea, and even more magnificent, two stunningly beautiful women, Farha decked out in a very tight white, strapless dress, obviously with no bra on and, I was to learn later, no panties, and Suraya, out of her abaya and hijab with flowing, curly black hair past her shoulders in a stunning, though slightly more modest black dress, coming down to her knees, sleeveless, with a pleasant V-neck showing off a hint of very ample cleavage.