I was sitting at my desk when I heard the familiar tap tap on my cubical wall. Not having a door means you make do with whatever approximation you can.
“Mark, I need you to go to Japan for me,” my manager said.
I looked up from my monitor. I had been engrossed in a riveting and fascinating technology brief (not!), and welcomed the interruption. Even so, though, it took me a second to register what he said.
“I’m sorry,” I said, snapping back into the moment. “Say that again?”
“I need you to go to Japan for me,” he repeated. He smiled. “You like to travel, right?”
“Well, sure, I guess,” I said, blinking. I don’t go on trips very often. Being part of the corporate head office and not being a field guy, business trips were something of a rarity for me.
“Good!” he said. “You should go home and pack a bag then. Is your passport up to date?”
“Wait,” I sputtered. “You mean now?”
He grinned. “No, not now.”
“Oh, good!” I said, breathing a sigh of relief. “For a second there I thought -”
“Tonight,” he interrupted.
When he saw the look on my face he laughed. Moving to the spare chair in my tiny cubicle he laid it out for me. “Look,” he said, amiably. “We’ve got a really big deal that’s on the line with this customer in Japan. The field guys are worried that we can lose millions if we don’t give them a roadmap discussion about our plans over the next year or so.”
“So why the rush?” I asked.
My manager sighed. “Well, I was supposed to go tonight but just got word that I’m supposed to do a presentation to our Circle of Five.” He referenced the five Vice Presidents of the company we worked for, the level of executives that reported to the no-nonsense CEO. I understood that when the C5 (as they were known – we shortened everything into jargon in this company) called you, you dropped whatever you were doing.
This apparently included international trips to Japan.
“To be honest,” he said, “I should have sent you in the first place. This is your project and you know it better than anyone.”
This was true. I’ve been the lead on the new technologies for some time, and if anyone knew the benefits and value, it was me.
“So,” he said, standing up. “I’m sorry to spring this on you last second -” he looked at his watch – “literally.”
Just as he was about to leave, I thought of something. “Wait, just what are we looking to get out of this meeting?”
He looked me straight in the eye and said, “Get him to sign on the dotted line.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. My heart was pounding in my chest. “I can’t make deals. I don’t have signatory authority.”
He smirked. “You do now, for this deal only. It’s a huge responsibility, but I trust you and know you’ll do fine. Besides, the account team will be there and will handle most of the details anyway. You’re just the hired gun to get their CEO to understand why they should stay with us. You know, invest in us for the long haul.”
I swallowed, hard. “CEO?”
I felt like I was walking into a game where I didn’t know most of the rules. If I screwed this up, it could cost us tens of millions. Over the years, that number could be even higher.
The trip itself was blissfully uneventful though I spent most of the time attempting to sleep on the plane, without success. I took the opportunity to review something of the customer’s history. I only casually glanced through some of the documents, though, preferring to prepare myself for the kinds of technical questions that were sure to emerge. This was hot new stuff, and I was passionate about it. I figured it was critical that I make sure that I had all my facts and details straight. I simply couldn’t afford to blow the entire deal by getting anything wrong.
Everything went downhill as soon as I arrived at the airport in Narita, Japan. Turning my phone back on, I checked my work email only to discover the account team had decided that they would not be attending, and didn’t even give me the courtesy to explain why. A few frantic (and ultimately ignored) emails later, I began to make my way through the airport.
Customs went as smooth as it ever does, which is to say that I was grilled by a very severe looking Japanese woman who didn’t seem at all pleased that I knew no Japanese whatsoever. My little phrasebook only seemed to make her more irritated.
Baggage claim was even less fun, as I waited for the carousel to spit out my bag, and waited, and waited. I waited until the carousel simply stopped, and then had to explain to a very apologizing Japanese luggage agent where they could send my bag – if they ever found it.
So, exhausted, and clutching my carryon, I emerged into the arrivals hall to see a very formal-looking Japanese man holding a sign with my name on it.
“Hi, I’m Mark Jenkins,” I said, nodding to his sign.
“Mr. Jenkins-san,” the man said, and politely bowed.
I returned the gesture. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to meet me at the airport,” I said. “This is a nice surprise. Oh! I’m afraid i can’t speak any Japanese.” I added with regret.
The man smiled. “That is quite all right, Mr. Jenkins-san. I will be your interpreter on this trip. Mr. Sato does not speak any English.”
Great, I thought. How am I supposed to get someone to sign on the dotted line with this language barrier? I regretted not having more experience in these types of deals, and really wished I had some help. This was one hell of a first time to have all these things go wrong.
“My name is Hiro Mosoto,” he was explaining. He looked around me. “Did you not bring any luggage?” he asked.
“They lost it.”
He bowed extremely low. “My apologies, Mr. Jenkins-san. I assure you this is not the way the Japanese treat honored guests.”
I was taken aback by the abruptness of his apology. “Mr. Mosoto,” I said, trying to get him to stop. Then, after an awkward pause, I added, “-san. This is not your fault. My bag was lost in America, not here.”
He stood up straight, and smiled a little. “Please, you can call me Hiro.”
I held out my hand. “And you can call me Mark,” I said. I was longing for a little informality.
I wasn’t going to get it, however. Hiro looked a bit shocked. “No, Mr. Jenkins-san,” he said, shaking his head firmly. “This is not the way it’s done. I would show you no such disrespect in front of Mr. Sato.”
It was slowly starting to dawn on me that Hiro’s logic was sound. If I were to face the CEO of this company as an equal, it would not do to have a breach of etiquette. Mr. Sato (-san? What’s the proper use for the formality? I was starting to feel hopelessly unprepared for what lay before me) would certainly not see his interpreter as an equal; I needed to follow suit if I had any hope of not screwing this up.
Hiro took me straight to the office. As I didn’t have any bags to drop off at the hotel, I didn’t object. I could have used some sleep, but apparently there was no way you would want to keep a man like Mr. Sato waiting.
The executive offices were outstanding. Giant fish tanks were everywhere, housing the most colorful fish I had ever seen. The office was awash in vibrant life, meticulously contained in gorgeous teak and cedar wood. The juxtaposition of chaos inside the tanks and meticulous rigid order for the rest of the office took my breath away.
Hiro led me to a conference room that looked like it doubled as a viewing room. There were three plush chairs arranged in a triangle, each with a laptop table conveniently placed beside them. Hiro suggested I choose a chair and I selected one. He excused himself to find Mr. Sato.
In the rich setting, I began to feel my heart pound hard against my chest again. Protocol… protocol… what’s the proper way to greet the CEO of a multi-Billion dollar company?
The answer, of course, is with respect.
Mr. Sato came in, a lot younger than I expected. A thin handsome man in his early forties, he carried a bearing of poise and honor that I simply didn’t see in my day-to-day life. I rose, and he cracked the smallest of a smile as he extended his hand. I took it, and bowed in greeting.
Mr. Sato was an attentive listener, as I went through my spiel and explained the projects I had been working on. It took a little time for me to get into the groove of speaking with an interpreter, but I quickly learned to keep my sentences short to give Hiro time to catch up and translate. Mr. Sato asked pointed, directed questions, showing a keen insight and intelligence. It was no wonder that he was the one in charge of the company. The man was brilliant.
“Mr. Sato-san says that he is very impressed with your presentation, Mr. Jenkins-san,” Hiro translated for me after we had been talking for about two hours.
“Thank you,” I said. Turning to face Mr. Sato, I said, “Arigato.” Sato nodded, unsmiling. I wasn’t entirely sure if “impressed” was a euphemism or not.
“Mr. Sato-san suggests that we take a break before continuing. He has additional questions that he must ask.”
I nodded. A break sounded good. Spending an hour talking about a new technology with an interpreter was far more exhausting than I thought. In addition I hadn’t gotten any sleep on the plane and was starting to feel like I would start yawning at any moment. The exhaustion of international flights coupled with intense technical conversations was starting to take its toll on my ability to recognize subtleties in the conversation.
Hiro pressed a button on a console next to his chair. Immediately the door to the room opened and three Japanese women entered the room in conservative business suits.
Each of them was absolutely gorgeous, and I began to think that it would be very difficult to work around here given how distracting it must be.
Then I found out exactly how distracting they were.
They each went to one of us, and knelt before us. Before I knew what the hell was going on, the girl in front of me began unbuckling my pants and unzipping my fly.
I nearly jumped out of my seat in panic, and looked over at Hiro and Mr. Sato. Each of them had a girl doing the exact same thing to them. Neither of them seemed the slightest bit disturbed by this behavior.
Is this normal? What do I do? Should I stop her? Holycrapholycrapholy…
The girl had taken my soft cock into her mouth and worked her magic on me. She wasn’t just good, she was damn good. I was instantly hard, but at the same time I couldn’t get over what was happening.
Mr. Sato simply kept his hands on the armrest and let his girl suck his cock. Hiro was checking his phone, and he looked like he was texting as his girl blew him.
I didn’t know what to do or where to look. I felt as if I was invading a very private moment, but there was nothing private about any of this. I was in a room with the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and his interpreter, getting sucked off.
Mr. Sato simply looked like he was meditating. The girl kneeling in front of him had her back to me and I couldn’t see anything she was doing, but I didn’t want to watch. I wanted to look away, but the room was too small and there was nowhere else to look.
Instead, I watched my cock disappear into the mouth of this beautiful Asian girl, whose soft, pouty lips were caressing me in ways that I had never imagined (and I can imagine a lot!).
I heard Hiro begin to breathe a little heavier, and stiffen as he shot his load into his girl’s mouth with a sharp grunt. She stayed there for a few moments more, letting him grow soft enough to tuck him away again. These women obviously knew what they were doing.
I watched as she put him back away, his cock still damp from her sucking, but nevertheless sated. She got up, bowed to him, and left the room. He went back to his texting.
I felt my girl start to fondle my balls, and nibble gently on the head, her tongue creating little suction points just beneath the crown. Self-conscious, I looked at Hiro to see if he was watching me but he had gone back to his phone and was paying no attention to me whatsoever. Apparently to him a break meant just that – a complete break from the moment we were in, even while remaining in the presence of others.
This girl, whose name I didn’t know, began to massage me with her hands, her tongue, and her cheeks. I could feel her hot breath against my pelvis as she tried to finish me. She never once looked at me.
Despite her considerable talents, I simply couldn’t get into the moment. I tend to like my women enthusiastic, and this girl was just doing a task, doing her job.
Mr. Sato suddenly grunted across from me. His orgasm was exactly like his persona. Strong, powerful, and completely restrained. He didn’t open his eyes, but I could see just how hard he was shooting into his girl’s mouth by her reaction. She looked as if she was struggling to take it all.
With two down and just me to go, the pressure was too much. I simply could not come at all knowing that I was the last one to finish, and that privacy was non-existent.
I leaned down and held the girl’s shoulders, trying to urge her to her feet. For the first time, she looked at me, eyes wide in confusion. Apparently she was not expecting this at all. My cock was still in her mouth and as I pulled her up it fell out with a loud pop.
“Thank you,” I said. “Arigato, arigato…”
She wasn’t buying it, and I had breached some sort of protocol here. Even so, I persevered while realizing I needed to try to place the burden on me, saving face for her. She looked over at Hiro for guidance, but he wasn’t providing any. He looked stunned as well.
Mr. Sato’s girl was standing up when I heard his distinctive Japanese baritone bark something that did not sound pleasant. My girl looked completely confused, but whatever it was that Mr. Sato had said she was accepting it.
Inadvertently I had caused some chaos, and wanted desperately to make it right. “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s okay.”
Hiro and Mr. Sato exchanged several words in Japanese, and I felt completely lost. I was convinced that I had screwed up the deal. Maybe I should have just let the girl finish me off, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I knew that I would simply sit there, nervous, knowing that these two guys were waiting for me to finish, and it would never happen.
Finally, both girls bowed and left the room. Mr. Sato did not look happy.
“Hiro, I – ” I began, but Mr. Sato stood up and I stopped talking. He said something to Hiro, who bowed in return. Turning to me, Mr. Sato bowed and looked at the floor just a moment too long, before standing ramrod upright, turned, and left the room.
I fumbled with my belt and zipper and tried to get Hiro to tell me what just happened.
It was no use. Hiro stood up, and bowed at me again. “Mr. Sato has terminated discussions for the day,” Hiro said in a brusque monotone. “He wishes to resume tomorrow.”
Ohcrapohcrapohcrap I fucked this one up. I saw my career heading into the toilet, which is where I felt I would need to go too in order to get rid of the unsettled contents of my stomach. My nerves were shot.
Normally I might have tried to protest or argue, perhaps even tried to recommence the meeting. I would have done something to try to make it right. This time, though, it just wasn’t possible. Something had happened, something cultural that I was not privy to, and I was just going to have to deal with the consequences.
Hiro took me to my hotel. On the way I began conjuring excuses for my manager for blowing the deal (or not blowing it, as the case may be). By the time I got to the hotel, though, I was no closer to understanding what had happened, let alone explaining it.
Still having no bags, checking in was a breeze. I was exhausted, and though I would probably have liked to explore Tokyo, I needed to get my sole set of clothing washed for the next day.
Room service and the bathrobe for tonight, apparently. Somehow it actually sounded quite appealing to have something low-key. It might have been nice to explore the city, seeing as I’d never been there before, but I simply had to accept the fact that it wasn’t going to happen this time around. After the high drama of the negotiations, I just didn’t feel in the mood to have a night on the town anyway.
My room was palatial by Japanese standards. Tokyo is well known for its lack of space, and for me to have as much room in my hotel as I did was mind-boggling. A king-size bed, jacuzzi, and a separate working room with a desk awaited me. There was no way my cheap-ass company did this. This must have been the Japanese.
After handing off my laundry to the hotel staff, I sat down at the desk in my terry-cloth robe (provided for my convenience by the hotel, complete with instructions on how to order one of my very own). I started going through my work emails, and felt the familiar twinge of nerves as my manager’s emails came across reminding me of just how strategic this account was.
Translation: Don’t fuck this one up.
A knock on the door brought me out of my work mode. It was a bit early for the laundry to be ready, so I opened the door with some caution.
When I did, the three women from the conference room entered in without a word, as well as one other woman that I had never met before.
“Mr. Jenkins-san,” the new woman said, bowing. “My name is Machiko Yoshuda. Mr. Sato deeply regrets providing you with an unsatisfactory selection this afternoon.”
“Unsatis… what?” I asked, looking at the three women in my room. They stood side by side, waiting patiently.
“Mr. Sato wishes to ask for your forgiveness and another opportunity to show that he is a proper host.”
“No, wait! I mean, yes, he is a very gracious host. I mean, he doesn’t have to,” I sputtered, completely shocked at what was beginning to dawn on me.
Machiko entered the room fully and stood over next to the other women. “I will ensure that you are not disappointed again.”
“Machiko, wait,” I said. “This isn’t nec-”
She said something in Japanese and the three women crossed to me and pulled off my robe, revealing my naked body. I tried to grab the robe but before I knew it, it was already in Machiko’s possession.
With six hands on me at once, I stood no chance. I was still aroused from earlier and hadn’t had a chance to come yet. I may have been shocked and surprised by what was happening, but my cock didn’t seem to care. It started to grow, rising between my legs.
Another short command from Machiko and one of the girls’ mouths was instantly on me. The other two began taking off their clothes, revealing flawless, perfect skin. The girl blowing me had taken me completely down her throat, opening her mouth to take me in easily and without any effort.
Machiko stood and watched the girls seduce me, like a supervisor watches trainee employees. I felt one girl move around behind me, rubbing my shoulders down my back to my ass. I felt her arms snake around to the front of my chest as she pressed herself against me. Her nipples scraped across my back and I felt her trimmed bush press up against my tailbone.
She pushed against me, keeping my body secure for the powerful pressure the girl blowing me was using. The third girl came up beside me, turned my face, and started kissing me deeply.
I was in sensory overload. I stood there, my legs slightly spread, being attacked by three of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, and a fourth watching.
Unlike earlier, though, I wanted Machiko to watch. Suddenly I felt like I was putting on a show for her, wanted her to get turned on watching me.
She looked like she was all business, though. Another command, and the girl deep throating me looked up into my eyes. This was the same girl who had been sucking Hiro earlier, and she was very good. Having her lock eyes with me made it much, much more powerful.
In my fantasies I had often imagined anonymous sex, not knowing the girls that I was with, just keeping everything recreational. In reality it was disappointingly awkward. Not even knowing their names meant that I couldn’t get to know them, couldn’t even test their personalities.
The girl kissing me was running her hands up and down my naked chest, caressing my nipples in her hand. The girl behind me undulated against my backside, soft fingers caressing my flesh – edging dangerously close to extremely sensitive areas. I felt myself tensing as self-conscious walls came up; I wasn’t sure how much I could trust her.
In my head they began to blend into mere sexual myrmidons, erotic playthings with no will other than to adopt mine.
Instead, I focused on Machiko, watching her. Her professionalism didn’t waver, and I felt a part of me see it as a challenge to get some sort of reaction.
I placed one free hand on the back of the head of the girl sucking me, and subtlety began to rock my hips back and forth. Fucking her mouth, I kept all machismo and bravado out of it, simply allowing myself to enjoy the sensation while being fully conscious of performing for Machiko’s benefit.
Shifting my weight I was able to bring my previous girl to her knees as well, and the two girls began sharing my cock. More importantly, though, I was able to showcase my proud erection directly in front of Machiko as the two women shared either side of licking my shaft and sucking on my balls.
My right hand wrapped around my back and slid across the pelvis of the girl behind me, slipping my finger across her clit. I don’t know why, but I was surprised to find that she was sopping wet. I suppose I had expected that she would simply be doing a job, merely be following orders, but this was not the case. She was soaked and immediately thrust against my invading fingers.
Finding her aroused sent me into the next level. There was something here, something more to just being serviced. Knowing that she was turned on helped shed the majority of my self-consciousness, and I was able to begin to relax into the situation.
She wrapped her hands around my chest and found my nipples, but pulled me back as she pushed her pelvis forward, using me for leverage. I played with her pussy and clit absent-mindedly, but she seemed to be getting off on my movements.
My focus and attention, though, was on showing off for Machiko. I made sure that the head of my cock, wet and glistening in the hotel room lights, was constantly aimed at Machiko. At full attention it was hard, throbbing, and demanding.
My free hand grabbed the hair of the girl to my left, guiding her head so that she could run her lips and tongue across the head, but never engulf it, never hide it from Machiko’s view. It was then that I got my first visible reaction from Machiko.
Betraying more interest than she initially let on, when I grabbed the girl’s head I saw Machiko gasp slightly. I couldn’t help a small arrogant smile, knowing that there was a crack in her professional armor.
I felt the girl behind me grab my wrist with one of her hands and guide it stronger against her pussy, and moan loudly. Watching other women enjoying themselves seemed to chip just that much more away at Machiko’s demeanor, and I watched her shift her weight from one foot to another.
One girl took my balls in her mouth, and it was my turn to moan loudly. Being underneath me forced my cock upwards, making it look as if it was pointing directly at Machiko’s face. Then I saw the ice crack completely as Machiko’s eyes locked on my cockhead:
She licked her lips.
“You’re missing out on the fun,” I said, softly. I pinched the girl’s clit behind me, and she moaned in appreciation as if to punctuate my point.
Machiko returned her gaze to my eyes.
I was about to flirt a little, tease her, ask her if she felt left out or wanted to play. What came out of my mouth, though, changed direction completely. For some reason, I knew it’s not what I meant to do, but wanted to say.
“Take off your blouse,” I commanded.
It was the right thing to do. I said it softly, firmly. It was a no-nonsense voice, one that left no room for qualification. I said it, I meant it, she knew it.
Machiko reached up to her high blouse collar and unbuttoned the first button without a second thought, but after that she hesitated. She looked at the girls quickly, suddenly realizing that this would put her into a compromising situation with her employees.
Taking control of the situation, as well as taking responsibility. I said, “Do it.”
It was a statement, only two words, but it established once and for all that I was the one in control, I was the one to be accountable. Machiko was the superior of these nameless girls, but I was the one who was in charge.
Her blouse unbuttoned, I saw a delicate white bra that had been perfectly camouflaged under the silk fabric. The low cut of the bra cup was enticing, not quite revealing the nipple but leaving the knowledge that it was just out of sight.
“You have sensitive nipples,” I said. It was a question, but came out as a statement.
She nodded. “Touch them,” I said, then corrected, “Pinch them.”
With one hand holding the blouse aside, her other slipped under the bra fabric and I watched her fingers come together in a tight grip around her nipple. Her skin on her chest immediately flushed, her breasts sucking in and then pressing outward in involuntary reaction.
The girl behind me was humping my fingers pretty hard now, so I brought my hand back around in front of me, bringing her with it. I looked at the girl sucking my balls and said, “Lick her,” indicating the girl from behind. To her, I instructed, “Take her place.”
Machiko wasted no time in translating, though she was unsure of how to hold her authority with her blouse open and one hand caressing her breast on my command. Nevertheless, the girls immediately shifted positions.
The girl directly in front of me lay down, and the one from behind knelt over her face and took my balls in her mouth. As wet as she was I had a feeling that being licked would send her over the top shortly, and I wasn’t disappointed.
She began to rock back and forth and slide her pussy lips over her colleague’s face, her moans a high-pitched whine – a sound very close to crying to my Western ears. Her small, lithe body seemed to be pulled in several directions at once, her bottom half riding the woman underneath and her upper body completely dedicated to bathing my cock and balls with her own mouth.
I looked up to see that Machiko had removed her blouse, and was about to remove her bra.
“Help her,” I said to the girl whose hair I was still holding. I indicated Machiko, and this time there wasn’t a need for a translation.
The girl went over to Machiko, who dropped her arms by her sides. She went behind her superior, and began to complete the undressing that Machiko had started on her own.
Machiko’s posture straightened out as the girl touched her, a modicum of professionalism creeping back into her demeanor. This time, though, she kept her eyes locked on me and allowed herself to be disrobed.
The figure of the woman in front of me was nothing short of exquisite. Taut, tight muscles emphasized a smooth, flat tummy underneath the most perfect pear-shaped breasts I’d ever seen. Her skin was flawless, not a mark or blemish on it. As the skirt loosened and fell down around her ankles, I saw this perfection continued between her legs as well.
A narrow strip of meticulously trimmed pubic hair led down to the cleft between her legs, drawing my attention exactly where it was supposed to go. I could see the arousal clear on her pussy lips, her clit beginning to poke out under its hood amidst slightly distended labia. My cock lurched in anticipation of tasting her and, ultimately, penetrating her.
The girl behind her was running her hands up and down her back, down her breasts, down her back and around her ass. Machiko’s expression never wavered, however. She was watching me the whole time.
We were alone in the room, Machiko and I. We stood facing each other, proudly showing off our bodies in heightened sexual arousal. The other girls around us merely augmented the fact that we were, in fact, the only two there. Like ghosts encircling our naked bodies, encouraging our arousal but not the cause of it, the girls faded quickly against the backdrop of my interaction with Machiko.
Meanwhile, the girl in front of me was whining in tortured pleasure. Her benefactor was obviously very good at what she was doing, and I was the ultimate beneficiary of those talents.
Without realizing it, I placed a hand on top of the head of the girl sucking me, gently guiding her back and forth as she sucked my cock. She was very good, taking me deep and then back out to the tip before sucking me in to the hilt again. I didn’t need to guide her with my hand, it just felt natural to do so.
I was still watching Machiko, and saw her stiffen and breathe in sharply. Glancing between her legs I saw fingers sliding in and out of view as the girl behind her was stroking her pussy from behind.
Involuntarily, I moaned at the sight, my eyes glued on the fingers playing with Machiko’s pussy. They were wet, just as soaked as mine had been, but she stood there in front of me keeping her crumbling professionalism at the forefront.
It was then that I realized she was doing what I had been doing: she was proudly showing me her body as I had been showing her. I smiled, knowing that she was a match, a kindred spirit. She was getting off on watching me get turned on in exactly the same fashion as I had been.
Well played, madame. Well played.
The girl sucking me came violently, distracting both of us. Her entire body shook, wracked with muscle conniptions that sometimes come with powerful orgasms. She flooded the face of the girl beneath, who held onto her hips with all the strength she could muster.
As she came down from her orgasmic high, the event seemed to trigger a breaking point, a time for a change. She lifted her mouth off my cock and I stepped back away from her.
From that moment on, there was an implicit understanding between the five of us. Without saying a word, Machiko and I moved to the hotel room’s king size bed, focused on each other, the other girls revolving around us like satellites.
We lay on the bed, facing each other, and I reached for her body for the first time. Touching her skin electrified both of us, as she pushed towards my fingers as if magnetized. I was vaguely aware of one of the other girls behind me, running her hands over me, another doing the same for her.
My body was on high alert, dangerously close to sensory overload. Machiko reached between my legs and took my hard cock in her hand, a cool touch in comparison with the heat of the mouths I had been feeling.
Touching each other was like inserting color into a previously sepia-toned experience. Her hand was masterful, teasing more blood into the organ, achieving seemingly imperceptible additions in length and hardness. My cock reached for her in return, stretching, growing, aching for her, and she did not reject it.
She leaned in and took one of my nipples in her mouth, creating a circuit of nerves straight to my cock in her hand. Another anonymous mouth took my other nipple in, but in comparison it was a faded sensation, a mere echo of what Machiko was doing.
She inched her body closer to mine, close enough for the tip of my head to stroke her clit. Like two magnets our genitalia were powerfully connected, attracted to each other as she pressed the tip of my cock against the tip of her clit.
I tried to get a good look, but there were too many limbs in the way. Machiko’s leg was lifted high in the air, and I suddenly felt why. A hot, moist tongue had found its way between her legs and was licking both her pussy and the underside of my cock. I could feel the pre-come leaking towards the tip’s hole with every lick on the underside. I imagined Machiko felt the same with each shudder that came every time the tongue left my body to go to hers.
The mixture of sensations was confusing. So much activity concentrated in one place, it took me a few moments to realize that I was actually inside Machiko. The wetness of the tongue and the wetness of her pussy melded together so smoothly that it all became an ebb and flow of the same tidal sensation, and rather than fight it I simply let it wash over my body.
Machiko grabbed my face and kissed me in a serpentine undulation against my body. Every motion was fluid, and my hand reached for her body only to find another in its way. Again, I simply flowed with it, and the swarm of bodies did not seem disrupted in the slightest.
My cock slid in and out of Machiko’s body, and my mind was flushed with color and harmonic sound. The constant touching by our companions resonated with the two of us, augmenting our sex, yet without distracting us.
Machiko rolled over onto her side, her back facing me, and a hand that was neither mine nor hers guided me back into her body. It was the most unusual spooning, as she and I were joined but constantly bombarded with additional foreplay. A mouth attached itself to her nipples, another to my balls. My face was tilted to the side and I began kissing a hot, breathless companion, too close to identify.
My rhythmic thrusting inside her pussy pushed her body into someone else’s, her attention focused on my invasion but seemingly completely natural to hold a sucking mouth to her breast. My cock slipped in and out of her, and then in and out of a hot panting mouth, and then replaced back into her pussy, all the while feeling hands massaging my body from my calves to my face.
A pussy appeared over my face, and I reached for it. The nectar was sweet, a delicious mixture of perfume and arousal, dripping onto my tongue and responding to it. It remained only for a few moments and then it was gone, the humid air generated by her pussy replaced with the room’s cooler air conditioning.
I pulled Machiko’s face towards mine, and she twisted far enough for me to brush my lips against hers. She tasted the other’s arousal, responded passionately, almost as if the previous woman’s pussy enticed her into a state of sexual desperation. She sucked on my lips, my tongue, and ground her pelvis back against mine.
It was now beginning to become difficult to hold back, her pussy simply felt too good. More hands, more mouth, more sucking on my balls and it became all too apparent that resistance was futile.
I felt her body on its own stepped, jagged rise. Her orgasm started like most women, coming in time with her breathing, a deep breath and it gets closer, an exhale and it settles. Another deep breath, and another retreat. She was ratcheting up, higher and higher, and faster with each round of breathing.
My cock felt the coaxing as well, not only from her but from the cacophony of sensations coming from our companions. I hadn’t even realized it but my own breathing was matching Machiko’s, signaling to my companions that I was not far from my own orgasmic breach.
Machiko came first, her body shrieking with ecstasy,a mouth on each nipple, riding my cock in spastic, violent quakes. My own orgasm was pulled out of me, a combination of her clutching pussy and the ever-present mouth on my balls.
I ground into her body, rather than slamming into it. My own restricted movement prevented me from attacking her like I would normally have done, but it drew out the orgasm in long, thick waves.
I imagined my cock emptying itself into her, long thick ropes of come splashing against the inner walls of her pussy, pulsing shots that painted her insides. The visual kept me hard as I sputtered my last into her, until I was unceremoniously taken from her body and inserted into someone’s mouth.
The orgy didn’t stop with the orgasms; it merely shifted. The bodies changed positions, the configurations changed, but no less meshing. Machiko and I separated, but continued amidst the flurry of hands, mouths, and genitalia.
I found myself growing tired, despite my enthusiasm of the event. I grew soft, grew hard again, grew soft once more, and then seemed to remain at a semi-hard state for what seemed like hours. Even though there was no alcohol in my system, I was intoxicated on the event. There were more orgasms, albeit not by me. I did not need them.
I don’t know what time I fell asleep, but I awoke to find one of the women sucking on my cock like a pacifier. This was less a matter of hard-core sex than a simple gesture of providing comfort and relaxation.
Looking around I realized we were alone in the room. Machiko had left, as had the other two women. The jet black hair looked familiar, and I brushed some wisps away from her face to see that it was the same woman who had gone down on me in the conference room.
This time, her work was having the desired effect, and I was extremely hard. Unlike the night before, where there was a concert of rhythm between bodies, this was deliberate, determined, and focused. She was on a mission to make up for what happened the day before, and I didn’t need an interpreter to explain anything to me.
In my confusion and self-consciousness the day before, I had not realized just how talented and truly remarkable this girl really was. She worked my cock with an elegance and finesse that I was ashamed to admit I had missed the first time around.
She played my body like a Stradivarius. Every once in a while she reached up to tweak my nipples, almost playfully, but for the most part she concentrated on my cock and balls. It was difficult to do anything but simply let her take control over my body, relax, and let it all go.
This I did. I flooded her mouth with seemingly endless ropes of come, allowing myself the luxury of complete abandon. Her knowledge of oral sex was considerable: she managed to hold me in her mouth and let me finish – I mean, really finish – without causing the somewhat unpleasant oversensitivity spasms that can happen with girls who can’t read the male body well enough.
When I finally relaxed enough for her to sense it was time to let me out of her mouth, she did so respectfully and without rushing. Every motion of her body, her hands, her mouth, was timed to perfection.
Later, I would come to realize that had she acted any different I could have very well felt like a mere john in a brothel. As it was, her behavior kept me relaxed and natural. Despite the fact that I still didn’t know her name, I couldn’t have felt more at ease.
She stood at the edge of the bed, bowed to me, said something in Japanese that I couldn’t understand, and then stood upright looking expectant. I glanced at the time and saw that it was time to get ready to go back to the client’s office. Mr. Sato had scheduled a breakfast meeting first-thing, and she was my alarm clock.
The rest of the morning she was my valet. Well, I supposed that’s the best way to call it. I’ve never had a valet before, so I don’t know how often they are supposed to follow you into the shower, wash you up, suck you off again, dry you off, and help you dress.
Come to think of it, valets probably don’t do that.
There was a car waiting for me when I went down to street level. She accompanied me, and I turned to her. “I don’t even know your name,” I said.
She bowed at me, and said something in Japanese that didn’t sound like a name. But when she stood upright, she was smiling broadly. I got in the car, leaving her on the sidewalk. She made no move to join me on the drive to the office.
On the drive I reflected back upon the previous night’s activities, not to mention that morning’s. It was an experience unlike I had ever had, and quite frankly was unlikely to ever have again. I thought of Machiko, and started to realize that I wanted to see her again. The realization dawned on me that this would probably never happen, and the sudden feeling of loss was more powerful than anything I had felt in a very long time.
Breakfast went smoothly, conversation was technical and administrative. Being back on my guard doing negotiations just reminded me how relaxed I had become the night before. The difference between the two emotional states was visceral.
Mr. Sato remained distant and professional, exactly the way he had been the day before. We had no more “breaks” during negotiations like the day before, but I was happy about that. After the night before I wasn’t sure that I was in any shape to participate in any more “breaks” for a while.
At one point in time, though, Mr. Sato excused himself. Hiro explained that Mr. Sato was conveying the negotiated terms to the CEO.
“Wait,” I said, “I thought that Mr. Sato was the CEO.”
Hiro smiled. “No,” he assured me. “Mr. Sato-san is the Senior Vice President of Technological Innovation.”
He paused, and his face turned dark. “Mr. Jenkins-san,” he began slowly. His voice was half scolding, half shocked. “Do you not know who our CEO is?”
I gulped. My manager had told me I was meeting with the CEO. All this time I had been under the impression that I was negotiating with the top tier of the company. It never dawned on me to do a followup on the organizational chart. I had been so preoccupied with the technical details of the deal that I never questioned what I had been told.
Suddenly I felt as if the floor had dropped out from under me. My mind raced as I thought back to everything I had said this morning and the day before. What did I say? I was near panic. What did I say!?!?
In the matter of only a few minutes I managed to convince myself that I had made a catastrophic mistake. Our largest customer in Japan, our biggest client in Asia-Pacific, and I hadn’t bothered to do basic due diligence? I had relied too heavily on the account team for knowing that background – the same account team that didn’t show up.
What the hell was wrong with me? I scolded myself. Why wasn’t I better prepared?
I did not deserve the deal. Hell, I didn’t deserve my job. If I were my manager, I would fire me. This was inexcusable.
Without warning the door opened, and Mr. Sato rejoined us. In his hand was a yellow envelope. He came over to me, handed me the envelope, and bowed. He stood there as I lifted the flap on the envelope and removed the contents.
There, in my hand, outlined in both Japanese and English, were the terms of our negotiations. Not one word had been altered from my ask, not one concession.
I looked up, unable to hide (though I tried) the look of surprise that surely must have flooded my face.
In perfect English, with a slight British lilt, Mr. Sato said, “In Japan, we honor relationships and honorable comrades. You honor Tadeki Electronics with your dedication, passion, and skill, and we seek to develop our relationship with you.”
I stood up from my chair, and couldn’t find the right words. “Arigato,” I said, bowing. My gesture was genuine, and I could only hope that he recognized it as such.
Signing the document took much less time than I thought it would. Before I knew it, I was holding onto millions of dollars in contracts over the next ten years, with the acknowledgement that I would be maintaining the relationship with Tadeki Electronics for quite some time.
The company car took me to a private airport outside of Tokyo, where a private corporate jet was waiting. I’d never flown on one before, but Hiro explained that the company was so enthusiastic about our partnership that they wanted to express their appreciation by taking care of me better than the commercial flight that I had originally booked. As I was going to be sitting in a middle seat cramped on a transatlantic flight, I was overjoyed.
We sat in our seats, attended to by gorgeous Japanese flight attendants. My mind flickered back to the evening before, a crazy thought that perhaps I’d recognize one of the flight attendants. Sadly, I did not.
“Hiro,” I said. “I -”
Suddenly, a shout echoed throughout the cabin in Japanese. Everyone in the cabin – and I mean everyone – stood up and bowed with their eyes facing the floor. Unsure of what to do, I stood up as well, though I was so uncertain that I didn’t bow.
I simply didn’t know what was going on. That is, until…
Machiko entered the cabin in a custom tailored suit. It fit her perfect figure in all of the right ways. I looked around me and was genuinely confused for a moment. Having no control over my own reaction, I felt the similar sinking feeling in my stomach though I had no idea why. I couldn’t help but have a knee-jerk reaction to the notion that I was being played.
Something was very, very wrong.
“Konichi-wa,” Machiko said, extending a hand for a Western handshake. Her other hand produced a business card.
Machiko Yoshuda, CEO, Tadeki Electronics
“In a very short period of time, you have managed to impress my senior staff,” she said, straight-faced. “I, too, am very impressed with that which you offer my company and, by extension, me. I thought that I would take the opportunity to accompany back to the United States to discuss what other kinds of joint projects we might be able to partner together.”
I sat there, dumbfounded.
She took a moment, then winked. Barking something in Japanese, the crew launched into action, and soon we were in the air on the way back to the United States.