Sexual Adventures in Oman

Muscat is generally a tough spot if you’re a single guy expat. Especially compared to Dubai, say. You could go for the prostitutes of course. Or as its called in Oman, a 'Russian Massage', wink wink. Or a Chinese takeaway. But prostitutes in Oman are hardly the sort you could take to a work dinner party, or likely to offer conversation and actual sophisticated female company.

The competition for the few single Western women is pretty steep, especially with a lot of the real party girls dating mega-rich members of the extended Omani royal family. Guys, as you probably have found out, a dreary job in an office or in the desert, driving a Prado or a Jeep Wrangler won’t cut it against a Ferrari, a big bowl of Andean happy powder and a house the size of a small hotel. But fear not guys. Muscat Confidential can give all you single guys a huge hint.

I have a friend who I found out is dating Omani women. Yep. Omani ladies. I was amazed at his daring. And even more amazed when he elaborated further to explain these were married women! Wow. That’s taking risks that borders on the insane. What if he gets caught, I asked? What if a scorned lover rats him out to the ROP, or even worse, to her brothers?

Ah, no problem, he explained. You do of course have to be very very discreet, but they are even more afraid of being found out than he is!

The trick? These are not ordinary married women, but unfortunate ladies who have had the misfortune to enter into an arranged marriage with a husband that turns out to be homosexual. He of course can’t say to his family when the arrangements are made ''Oh, no, I don’t want to get married Mum, Dad, because you see I’m actually gay. Sorry!'' He basically goes through with it. After an initial consummation, presumably doggy style, he’s off all the time with the underground gay scene and Filipino hairdressers, safely married, satisfying his Mum and ignoring his wife. After a while, she figures whats OK for him is OK for her, and so it goes.

The advantage of having an affair with an expat is 1/ he’s as scared of getting caught as you. 2/ he’s unlikely to know your family. 3/ he’ll have a nice secluded bachelor pad surrounded by other expats. 4/ in a few years he’ll be off anyhow.

I was intrigued. Why hadn’t I thought of that when I was single? And how does he meet them?

Apparently the supermarket is the place. Eye contact? Good. Phone number? You’re in.

He must have balls of steel. I’d always be looking over my shoulder for the 5 brothers to burst in brandishing a red hot poker. But he seems very satisfied. And he assures me that they are too.
His only lament is that there are too many. So, there you go guys. Go shopping!