Dubai Booking

He didn’t come with questions. He just came with presence. Some men don’t want to talk. They want to feel seen and I know exactly how to listen. He didn’t ask what I offer. He didn’t ask for my real name. He didn’t even ask

He came for an hour, stayed for three, and left with more than he expected. My nights in Dubai rarely go as planned. He booked an hour. They usually do. His message was respectful, carefully worded. I could tell he wasn’t the kind to rush into anything, probably browsed

He told me later that he had typed the words “Dubai escort” into his phone five times before he finally clicked my link. He was sitting alone in a hotel on Sheikh Zayed Road, the lights from the metro flashing like second thoughts across his window. He had arrived in

I don’t rush. And I don’t let you rush either. When you come to see me in Business Bay, you’re not just booking a room - you’re stepping out of your own life for a while. My place is quiet, clean, private. Tucked inside one of

I arrived at his penthouse just past 9. The road leading into Palm Jumeirah always feels like a transition - like you’re leaving Dubai and stepping into a quieter world where time slows down. The building was one of those glass towers that always smell like orchids and polished

He arrived early - not because he was eager, but because he didn’t want to be late. There’s a difference. His name was Arjun (nick name). Mid-30s, recently divorced, Indian. The kind of man who looked polished but carried the weight of a courtroom battle behind his eyes.