by Dusty Miller
Heather leaned over.
“Don’t ask me to model it right now, please, lover?”
“I wouldn’t dream of sharing that.”
Heather pouted her pleasure, drawing an odd look from a passer-by, just another loner looking for a table in the open air café. She knocked it off, giving Braden a sober look. Even after all this, she wasn’t used to strange men looking at her.
One thing at a time, one day at a time, her look seemed to imply. Her downcast eyes darted back and forth as he silently watched.
#
They had a rendezvous all planned out.
Heather timed it to the minute. First the laying out of the outfit, and this took an inordinate amount of time, but for the first time in her life, she had some real choices, and the power to make them. She also kind of saw it in romantic terms—it was the first time they were going out together, and with her in real clothes. It was exciting, but scary as hell of course.
This time of year it got dark early.
She had a quick shower, shaved her armpits over and over again, and used the Neet on her legs, and then made the final decision on the attire.
It all had to fit under her rather loose, moss-green polyester slacks, a sports blouse and jacket. Very professional looking. He would understand, or at least think he did and be fooled. The red shoes would have to stay behind. It was to be an ambush.
Cracking the door an inch or two, she monitored the hallway. There was no noise out there that she could determine. Opening it up a foot or so, she stuck her head out and peered in each direction. No one there and still that silence.
Grabbing her keys, clutching her purse, Heather went down to the curb in front of the motor hotel to make the seven o’clock rendezvous with her lover. There was no one in the elevator, which would have been touch and go for the shy Heather, as she was using just a touch of powder and blush, and had found the guts to put on a pink lacquer on her nails, neatly trimmed and rounded. She’d spritzed on some pretty-smelling stuff with a familiar name. The suspense was killing her, but Braden had been dropping hints all day.
In an elevator, sheer scent would have given her away, which was fine when it was just the two of them, but made her paranoid at most other times.
She didn’t even feel comfortable doing that at home, as she was convinced the smell would give her away. Gossip was terrible in a small community and her Mother Superior was one of the worst snoops. The idea that she must know or assume she masturbated was troubling with one like her. That one would have no choice but to talk to her about it. Policy was clear on certain matters.
The sun was near the horizon and she just sort of hung around, pretending to be enjoying herself or waiting for a cab or something.
As luck would have it, a cop car went by in the traffic stream and caused an unpleasant jolt of some erroneous guilt in her lower body. It was like the officer inside turned his head and took a second look kind of thing.
She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Heather was just afraid of people finding out. That was the crux of the problem, one that didn’t seem any easier to deal with now that certain issues were clarified…
“Hey.”
“Oh.” Heather’s thoughts cleared up and she nodded at her partner, feeling good about things over-all. “Hi.”
“I’m starved, and I hope you are too.” Braden chuckled and lightly touched Heather in the ribs.
“I’ve been daydreaming of one big wienerschnitzel, all heaping in wet, sloppy sauerkraut.”
Braden laughed out loud at that one.
“Well, have I got a surprise for you.”
Right about then a long black limousine pulled up under the canopy and came to a stop. A Japanese man in an impressive black coat put on a traditional top hat as he got out of the driver’s side, came around and opened the door. He stood at attention, gazing rearwards off into nowhere, as utter silence reigned for a blessed moment on the darkening sidewalk.
Braden’s mouth cracked open in a grin, and he lifted a wrist and checked his watch with eyebrows raised in admiration.
“Wow. I am impressed.” He cocked his head to one side. “That’s mighty quick work.”
He’d only just phoned in.
“Oh, Braden. I want to sit looking backwards in the jump seat!”
Braden grinned and pointed at the door.
Heather resisted the strong impulse to leap up into Braden’s arms and squeal like a schoolgirl, but this was just so cool. What was Braden up to? The thought of being naked in the back of a limo overwhelmed her. Sneaky! And cheeky too, but she liked it. The windows were jet black.
Braden’s outstretched arm beckoned her forwards, and so without further ado, Heather crouched a bit and crawled into the dark interior, reaching into the jacket pocket for her earrings, what with the tinted windows and such, and in the right hand pocket was a brand-new cherry lipstick she was dying to try, assuming she could actually get it off again in time to go back to work.
The place got even darker as Braden clambered in, the wide door still fairly tight for such a big man, and then he paused in confusion as the door slammed behind him and the chauffeur moved around to get going again.
“Hello.” His jaw dropped open and his eyes bugged out a bit when he comprehended the reality of two grinning Asian gentlemen sitting in opposite corners of the back seat, one elderly and the younger sleek and inscrutable.
The driver’s door clunked. Right about then the thing smoothly started off, rolled left, right, and then out into the darkening streets of downtown Burlington and Braden dropped onto a jump seat to avoid tumbling over.
The quickly-stifled squawk from Heather was merely a fitting counterpoint to what was looking to be a bit of an awkward situation.
“Heather! Put your clothes back on.” Braden’s hiss was otherwise hollow in the most profoundly shocked silence he’d enjoyed for quite some time.
Heather giggled.
“No.”
“What?” Braden’s eyes goggled.
It was unthinkable. She stuck her tongue out at him.
He stared into those eyes and engaged a few insane thoughts. His jaw dropped.
Or was it? Was it really unthinkable? As if drawn by an invisible force, his head slowly swiveled.
On the far side, the driver’s side, the old man’s mouth was all split open in a wide grin, revealing the opalescent gleam of pale and even dentures, his black eyes glistening with what Braden interpreted as tears of laughter as he said something incomprehensible to the other man.
There was a brief flurry of interchange in what sounded like Japanese.
Braden brought up his hands in respectful address and bowed his head humbly as he waited.
“Mr. Fujimoto says he thanks you for your kindness to a stranger.” The younger one shook his head in disbelief. “You might as well go for it.”
On the side of his neck, Braden sensed the heat of Heather’s hungry gaze.
#
The old man pulled out a long leather billfold from inside of his slick tailored dinner jacket. He gave several big bills to his companion, and nodded decisively to Heather and Braden.
She kicked off her shoes, and then Heather pulled off her slacks the rest of the way as Braden stared in disbelief. Next it was the blouse. She was wearing a long red fishnet body stocking. She posed there, applying lipstick blindly but doing all right with it.
“Well, sugar?” Heather crawled into Braden’s lap, looking up at him mischievously and batting her eyelashes. “The man wants a show.”
“Hah…hah-hah…hah-hah…huh.” Braden figured a kiss wouldn’t hurt so he stalled for time.
Heather was willing, and if they made no objections, that was fine too, but he wasn’t sure he could do it. Heather was totally turned on, clinging tight and pulling him close.
“Excuse, please, sir. Mister Fujimoto is a very important man, and here for good time, at least for tonight…” The eyes were oddly pleading, and Braden inferred that maybe the old m
an was a bit of a handful for the senior executive-type working overseas and subjected to a quick visit by the company founder.
It all came together as Heather slid back and tugged and pulled at his belt and zipper.
Braden cracked a grin.
“How much is there?”
The man made a quick count.
“Two thousand…” He proffered the money.
Heather’s hand snaked up and grabbed it out of the fellow’s hand. Then her mouth plunged down onto Braden’s semi-erect member, making exaggerated sounds of pleasure and trying to extricate Braden from his trousers entirely in spite of his best efforts to keep them on. Her hand waved the money around so Braden took it and put it in his jacket inner pocket.
“Oh, come on, sir. What harm can it do?” These delirious strangers, bat-shit crazy as the saying went in North America, might be just the thing to amuse old man Fujimoto, as everyone in the company called him.
Fujimoto would be a bastard otherwise, he just knew it. What an incredible stroke of luck.
It’s not like they weren’t going to do it anyways. Of course they had no way of knowing that a Saburo Fujimoto who was pleased was so much more likely to grant him his long sought-after position as vice-president of foreign sales.
The old man said something and his companion looked aghast, but then took another look at Heather’s ass, which from this angle was a stirring sight, a pattern of netting superimposed on it although Heather had taken a pair of scissors and carefully cut a slot up the crotch from front to back.
The old man handed over another sheaf of bills.
“I say, old boy. Would you mind very much…?”
Braden took the money in a daze of pleasure and rabid excitement. His initial shyness was long since gone. She stopped every so often to remove more of his clothes. The old man pulled out a bottle and Sakai had a snap off of it.
Braden’s eyebrows climbed into the roof material as Heather gasped and moaned and the younger gentleman, licking his lips and stealing the odd glance over at an approving company founder, pulled down his trousers. He took one of the proffered condoms from Braden’s outstretched hand. He knelt behind her and with a bit of fingering to get her wet, slowly but surely prepared to fuck Heather doggy style, in some hopeful bid for a major promotion. Surely the price of failure would be to end up back home in Japan with no further hope of overseas assignments.
It didn’t bear thinking about. He must make a manful effort. Toasting each other with sake, the air in the car got bluer and bluer as Mister Fujimoto smoked his endless black cigarettes and a sweating and swearing Theodore Sakai finally managed to drive Heather into a shuddering orgasm. The vehicle cleared the freeway and pulled back onto Highway 2, the main drag of the place, not six blocks from where it all began.
Heather pulled moist towelettes and paper tissue from the jacket pocket and set about the business of putting herself back together again.
Braden reminded Sakai about their restaurant. It had to be along here somewhere.
“Whew!” Settling back into his jump-seat, Heather looked at Fujimoto and winked in a conspiratorial manner.
The old man made the window go down so Heather chucked out their trash. Putting her hands together in Oriental fashion, she bowed gracefully, and then did a curtsy as best she could from the low position as the old man’s face cracked in a grin and Braden chuckled.
Sakai’s thoughts were unreadable but he radiated a certain satisfaction at his performance as he had gotten through it and the alcohol, finally some blessed alcohol after such a long day, was beginning to take its effect. This would all turn out to be some kind of crazy dream.
Heather drained her sake at a gulp and held the glass up for more. The old man nodded and Theodore poured her another shot.
“Thank you. You’re very sweet.” Heather blew him a kiss.
“It was a pleasure.” Colouring slightly and showing concern for the first time, Sakai was almost certain that the old boy understood English.
It stood to reason, but his accent would be atrocious, and in an effort to preserve face he simply didn’t use it. To speak English would be to embarrass himself. Hence there was the need for Sakai’s own urbane sophistication and his present assignment of speaking for the old man, and the last couple of years representing the firm over here.
“We wish you a pleasant evening.”
Fujimoto chimed in with blessings in Japanese as Braden dismounted labouriously onto the sidewalk in front of their restaurant. His tie was loose and the coat still unbuttoned, but he felt and looked okay. With a decisive gesture, he stuck his tie, all rolled up, into his pocket. Heather gulped the wine, ready to move on now that she was sated. Sakai took the glass from her.
Braden helped a glowing Heather out and the pair stood drinking in the cool, crisp air as the driver stood at attention.
Braden handed the man a fifty and received at sharp salute. Heather broke up in hard-to-suppress giggles, and the man slammed the door. The glass slid down as he went to his own side.
“Bye, Heather.” Sakai blew her a kiss, which made Heather blink but she cheerfully returned it.
“Bye, lover. And good luck with whatever.”
Sakai nodded thoughtfully, winked at Braden and then he winked out of existence as far as they were concerned when the dark pane slid into position. The car moved off, its taillights inscrutable in the darkness, as Theodore Sakai phoned Mister Tomonaga’s room, just to let them know they had been delayed ever so slightly, but were only five minutes away.
“I’m sorry you didn’t come in the car.” Heather clung to Braden’s strong right hand, holding him in close with a grip on his upper arm.
Her body danced a little in place, in thrall to some inner rhythm.
“Think of it as a lot of foreplay.”
What in the hell had just happened?
“Boy, Heather. You’re really throwing it down lately.”
“A girl has to know what she wants.”
Braden nodded in solemn agreement and then they both grinned like fiends again.
Heather looked up with a smirk. She bumped her hip up against Braden’s, looking up at the marquee, conscious now of some married couple up the street at a bus stop. The man was staring at them. Simpering, Heather leaned forwards and gave him a happy little finger wave and the guy straightened right up, pointedly ignoring them as now wifey-poo took on a look of disdain. From the side, the man’s face got redder and redder.
Heather felt like the total rebel. It felt good, too.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry as all hell.” Braden moved towards the exotic-looking entrance.
By some weird coincidence they were having Chinese food tonight.
Heather took a deep breath, smiled, letting go of his hand, her posture very tall with chin up at Braden’s side, and the pair of them walked into the place like they owned it.
They would be hungry again in a half hour or so but who cared? Once they were inside, Braden whipped out his phone in the hopes of finding the number of the local limo company. He was wondering if they were in a good mood and hopefully they wouldn’t mind forgetting about it. He was terribly sorry and it was all a big mistake.
Scene Three
After a long night of love-making, and then morning sex on Sunday. Braden didn’t have to be at work until eleven o’clock. It was lovely, no costumes or role-playing, no hurried preparations, just the two of them naked in each other’s arms and one small bed.
Braden growled in her ear as Heather smiled and whispered sweet contented nothings. She was learning to time things, to control things, and trying not to hog all the pleasure. While her fantasy mostly revolved around her own needs, naturally she understood that this involved another person with needs of their own. Braden really liked her for herself—falling naturally into the role of gentleman, nothing outwardly revealing about them in the restaurant last night or in the bar later, and Heather was becoming much more comfortable with the thoug
hts of a longer-term relationship.
Never in her life had she considered what a relationship, one open to the world, might be like.
It was wise not to hurry into things, and she sure didn’t want to spoil the moment, but Braden must have had similar thoughts on his mind too.
“So what do you think?” Braden thrust slowly, deeply into Heather’s lovely pussy as his lover moaned and thrashed, only partly under rational control.
The key with his lovely bitch was plenty of foreplay. Heather was cock-hungry. She’d never had a baby of course, and her nipples were still a youthful pink…she loved his hands on her breasts.
“Oh, God!” Heather twisted for a long, wet kiss that went on for some time.
She loved tongue-fighting. It was the forbidden fruit thing again.
She looked up, eyes shining in some inner light.
“Fuck me, Braden. Fuck me. I want to have your baby.” She had the most serious look on her face.
Braden threw his head back and laughed.
The pair fell into a twisted heap of laughter, convulsing hysterically and for the moment drawing the actual sex to a crashing halt.
They kissed and kissed some more. Braden began slowly thrusting again as Heather wiggled her back end in appreciative feedback.
“Am I really that good?”
“Ah! Ah…ah. You’ll do…for the time being.”
“Oh.” Braden grinned ruefully. “I guess I walked right into that one.”
They kissed again and then Braden pushed hard on her shoulder and held her face down on the edge of the pillow. Heather had told him that ninety-nine percent of the pain was gone from intercourse now, and it was time to try her out on it.
It wasn’t long after, that Braden, recovering slowly, re-focused to see Heather staring into his face from inches away.
Braden pulled her closer.
“What’s up?”
The eyes said it all.
“I was just thinking.”
Heather was falling in love with Braden, she was sure of it in fact, and she was sort of wondering if the feeling was mutual. There was a short pause where neither had anything to add. Heather rolled over and turned to face the sunlit windows and Braden spooned up close behind her, just holding her and waiting to see if she said something more.