Page 12 of What Happens in Dubai

‘Aw, Zara! That’s a fucking sin!’

‘I know. Stop. I feel bad enough.’

Ping.

‘Oh no! Is that him?’ Ashley asked as my phone lit up the table.

I smiled when I saw Luke’s name appear on the screen.

‘Zara! Is he texting to say hiya?’

‘It’s Luke. The young guy. I swear I like this one, Ash, he’s so sweet and clever. Look at this fucking body.’

I turned my phone round to show Ashley an eight pack of pure muscle he had just sent as this little delight had just finished his training session. My stomach had butterflies from watching the sweat drip from his forehead in the photograph.

‘I mean, ooft. Mate, he is hot!’ Ashley said.

I nodded in agreement as a large piece of baguette was preventing me from speaking.

‘When are you seeing him?’ she asked.

‘Between my late nights now, and his shifts, I can’t see him till next Thursday night.’ I stuck out my bottom lip briefly before stuffing the last piece of baguette in my mouth.

‘Eh, that’s the night before Dubai! It can only be for a couple of hours and nothing else. You can’t miss that flight, Zara, or bring him back for an overnight. Imagine Raj if you messed up.’

‘For god’s sake! Of course I won’t. I’ll get organised for Dubai this week, then I’ll enjoy a nice, quiet date with Luke, nothing wild. I’ll meet you guys first thing in the morning, and we can head to the airport together. It’ll be fine,’ I said reassuringly, taking a long gulp of my Lucozade to wash down the sandwich. I was starting to feel human again after last night, and now I felt buzzing for my date with Luke, immediately followed by the trip of a lifetime.

But Ashley stayed looking concerned. ‘Please don’t fuck it up, Zara,’ she said.

Chapter Five

That week my days were filled with work, online shopping hauls and lots of sexting with my new love interest, Luke. He would send me innocent selfies from his lectures, wearing his fashionable glasses, looking overly intellectual, and then every bathroom break he would proceed to send a picture of his rock-hard dick. This boy was always solid, and I wondered if it was an age thing. I had high hopes for Luke in the bedroom department – for one so young, his chat was filthy. One evening we were sexting so intensely I even considered an underwear change because his words got me so damp. But with a folder already dedicated to his dick on my iPhone, I began to wonder if our whirlwind lustfulness had lost some of its excitement. I knew exactly what I was getting: five, maybe six inches with great potential. After our weeklong sextathon and seeing his dick from every conceivable angle and in every lighting condition, there wasn’t much mystery left. But even so, I was intrigued. This lad had clearly bedded a few women in his short lifespan, and he promised to ride me like the Waltzers, so I wasn’t going to pass on that one.

In between my suggestive messages, I was getting organised for Dubai, excited by the thought of being away from the cold, wet Glasgow weather. I had stocked up on Femfresh and plenty of factor fifty as my pale Scottish skin couldn’t handle the heat on the east coast, never mind the fucking desert. By the next Thursday evening, my case was packed, passport and documents looked out the night before the flight, and all that was left to do was meet my toy boy for a few hours of innocent cocktails before heading home alone for some beauty sleep.

My hair was washed, body exfoliated, and pubes gone. My right nipple wire was plucked, holiday nails done, and I was all set to go. I was looking forward to meeting Luke, especially after my date with William the previous week. I had seen so many photographs I was confident he wasn’t a catfish and I felt so excited for some light-hearted banter. I studied myself in the mirror, wearing ripped jeans, high top Converse and a tie-dyed T-shirt. I would never usually go on a date in such casual attire, but I felt an overwhelming urge to appear younger for anyone observing us. I ran my fingers through my hair, gathering my thoughts. My long dark locks flowed neatly down to my waist; it was the only thing I liked about my look, having only visited the salon a few weeks before. I studied my teenage-inspired outfit again.Am I hitting a mid-life crisis? I look ridiculous. What’s next, Zara? Fucking space buns?

Ping.

My pitiful thoughts were interrupted as I glanced at my phone and saw Luke had messaged.

Outside your flat. I think lol xxxxx

Shit. I ran to the living-room window, which overlooked Royal Exchange Square, and saw him sitting on the benches awaiting my arrival.No time for a change, Zara! You have to live with your ludicrous choice to dress like JoJo Siwa.I took a deep breath, swung my short puffer jacket on and headed downstairs to finally meet my date. The air was crisp and the sky was becoming duller as it had just passed 8 p.m.

Luke stood up and approached me when he saw me walking out.

‘Awrite, shorty, nice kicks.’

Jesus, I forgot to google the lingo.

‘Hey, how are you? Thanks,’ I replied, feeling nervous but surprisingly pleased at how handsome this young man was in the flesh. He had blond hair pushed back and styled well, sallow skin and was wearing an outfit almost identical to mine except with a lot more designer labels attached to it. He looked like Justin Bieber with more of a bristly growth around his jaw.

‘So, where do you want to go?’ I asked, walking to the main road.

‘I was thinking of a pub closer to mine? I borrowed my dad’s car. It’s only twenty minutes away.’

I was surprised he hadn’t suggested this before in the messages, but I was certainly up for a change of scenery from my usual haunts. I was desperate to accept immediately, but hesitated as I remembered my promise to Ashley: a sensible night. I looked at my watch and smiled; I suppose it was still early and I had at least a few more hours before I had to worry about time.

---