Negotiating Hong Kong

Chapter 1

Jocelyn is an account executive for an international property acquisition mega firm and hopeful company VP candidate and was just asked to go to Hong Kong on an emergency basis where negotiations have broken down on a Victoria's Peak office building. In Italy on vacation, and caught unprepared, she must go to the Asian country without any of her business tools or even business attire.

Fearless in the face of adverse business situations and even excited over the possibility of brokering an acquisition that someone else failed at, the more than qualified fifty something, success driven professional grabs at the opportunity, assures the firms partner that he has made the right decision and breaks out her corporate credit card. Within four hours, still dressed in her leisure but elegant, bought for Tuscany touring, clothes, Jocelyn is airborne and comfortable in first class, sipping her complimentary Don Perignon and already plotting strategy. It will be a long sixteen hour flight and having that eye desert sitting next to her helps somewhat.

Who is that? And how did I get so lucky?

Distracted from her mental gymnastics and half heartedly welcoming it, she reclines her wide seat, casually shifts her position and stealthily ends up with a better view of that very long hunk of male creature sitting next to her. Stories from long ago that her girlfriends told of "the mile high club" slide by in her mind and cause just a slight blush to creep up her neck and cheeks.

Oh, it wouldn't be good if he could read my mind. Or, would it?

Jocelyn opens her eyes and realizes she had dozed, for how long? Without moving she takes inventory of her surroundings as if she was looking at her place in the flight to Hong Kong for the first time. The night lights are on and everything is in subdued light.

There's that beautiful man, now with his jacket off, seat also in the reclined position and half turned toward -- me. Huh, how long have I been dozing?

Glancing down without shifting she studies her anonymous flying partner and really likes the geography.

Oh, look at those hands, long fingers, manicured nails, very nice, very professional. Expensive slacks, Hermanni sterling belt buckle and Italian loafers. So nice.

Ahhh! Oh my god!

As she suddenly realizes that as she napped, her silk blouse, already low cut and only accompanied by three buttons had one of those buttons come undone. From her glance she could see not only the swell of her left breast.

But that's my areola that I see! I'm sure, if he looked, he could probably see my nipple as well! Oh my god! Oh no! Why did I not change before coming on this trip? How could I think that the light linen skirt that I am wearing would travel well or not slide up my legs like it has already done? Oh no! I can see the tops of my thighs and almost my panties, there's no way, if he wanted to, that he couldn't see them!

I can't remember which pair I put on this morning. Were they the black ones, the ones with the little daisies? No that was yesterday. Oh no! They were the sheer blue ones. Yes, I remember worrying that they might show through the linen skirt. Oh, so sheer, and right there in the open if he wanted to look! What do I do? I can't go grabbing everything at once, I can't bring all that attention just in case he hasn't seen anything.

I'll just reach down, tug my skirt a bit and roll over. Slowly and quietly so I don't arouse him.

"Don't!" he whispers.

He's grabbed my wrist!

"Don't please." A more urgent whisper.

I'm sure my face was scarlet with both embarrassment and anger.

"I can't tell you how amazing you look and so very sensual. If I could paint, you would be on a canvas tomorrow. Please, just let me look and make a mental masterpiece in my mind. You are a fantasy come true. You are so beautiful."

Releasing my wrist, he just sits there, almost lying down and watching me, seeing me frozen, amazed that he would say those things and feeling... so excited.

What am I thinking, doing? A strange man, however gorgeous, is looking at me and me, showing him so much. Why am I not moving, covering and berating him? I am so turned on! I can feel my nipples hardening, one exposed and feeling the cool of the cabin but also the heat of excitement. Oh no, I know he can probably see a wet spot forming on my panties. I don't believe how wet I'm getting and so fast. How is this happening?

Finally I'm able to move, but what am I doing now? Instead of ending this I ever so slowly move my hand down and move the hem of my skirt even higher. It's like I'm moving in a dream. My fingers touch ever so lightly that small wet area and feel the slick juice. I can't help sliding my fingers over it causing the spot to widen and darken. His eyes don't move, watching my fingers circle and the wet spread and I'm sure he can see my lips swelling under the very sheer cloth.

Oh my, I want my finger in me, I want him touching me. I haven't been so excited in so long.

Lights, bright lights! I'm suddenly jolted into reality, sitting up and rudely forced to halt that dream, no not a dream, it was happening.

Oh my god, could that all have been real?

Looking across the aisle and faced with a knowing smile, I don't know weather to scream or smile back. What am I becoming? I do return his smile and hear his words;

"Thank you, you made this long flight so memorable. Will I see you again?"

"Oh, I doubt it, you've seen enough of me already."

No, I'm trying to convince myself, I will ride out the rest of this flight like a virgin. No more of this foolishness. What am I thinking?

Without any further contact and not even a goodbye, we deplane separately and move on to our separate lives. Somewhere in my jet lagging mind I hear a "thank you" being whispered by me.

Chapter 2

Oh how grateful I am for this beautiful hotel and how I need its firm mattress and soft pillows. I think a long nap and then a gentle massage and I'll be ready for war. As I call the concierge and schedule the in-room massage, I also order a light dinner and ask where I'll be able to purchase some business suits. With the professionalism I expected, Phillip, the concierge explained that he would have the hotel's personal tailor visit with cloth samples and designs and everything will be completed to my satisfaction in one full day.

Fresh from my nap and an invigorating shower, I was more than ready for my massage. The knock on the door came soon after and two bell boys carried in and erected an exquisite massage table. I was surprised by the masseuse, a tall and handsome woman, not of Asian descent. I had expected a local, but was not bothered by the occurrence. After the boys left, Daniele asked me to lie face down on the now covered table. I removed my robe and lay down on the table and she modestly covered my naked body with a plush sheet that smelled lightly of jasmine. After folding the sheet down to just above my cheeks, Daniele dripped warm oil on my back and began a most welcoming kneading of my shoulders, arms and back. Never had I felt my neck being touched and rubbed and manipulated in such a satisfying manner. As she methodically moved from my head to my waist, my body both relaxed and became excited at the same time. Her fingers caressed and smoothed and fluttered, easing travel weary muscles and reviving sluggish blood flow. It didn't matter when her palms slid over the sides of my breasts and caused me to catch my breath. It felt so good. Warm smooth rocks were pressed to my spine and even more warmth and energy spread through me. Sliding two of the stones around felt almost sensual especially as they passed over the parts of my breasts that were pushed out from my body by lying face down on them. I could feel my nipples reacting to the gentle touch.

Daniele covered my back and uncovered my legs and I could feel the fresh air of the room washing over the bottom of my ass cheeks. Just a little chill went through me and Daniele noticed and said she would take the chill away quickly. Warm oil again but this time wiped up my legs and over my feet with her hands. I could feel the warm oil spill between my legs and warm the lips of my pussy. Each toe was paid such attention that I couldn't think of anything else but her hands. Moving, pressing, plying each little bit of me until my lower legs felt light and heavenly. She moved her hands up the legs, gently at first and then more firmly, kneading the bigger muscles firmly and fluttering over my skin at the same time. Her hands moved the oil on my legs, her hands pushing it ahead of them as she moved up and down and each time her hand moved slightly closer to my lips.

So professional, I was sure there was nothing untoward happening and knowing that, I enjoyed each inadvertent move and almost wished she would caress my pussy. Daniele moved to the other side of the table and as she repeated her wonderful massage, she moved the covering sheet higher and exposed my bottom completely. She asked if that made me uncomfortable and explained that she did it so she would be able to massage all of the major muscles. I said that I was not embarrassed and was enjoying her massage immensely.

Possibly understanding that as a form of waiver, her touches seemed to become more intimate, if that were possible. Her kneading of my buns was strong and thorough and more oil was poured and seeped down the crack of my ass. As Daniele massaged, her hands pulled my cheeks apart so I knew she could see my puckered hole. I could feel her fingers lightly pass over my hole and just hesitate for a moment. More of her fingers moved down my crack, momentarily visiting my butt hole and then moving even lower. No longer did I have any doubt that she was accidentally brushing my pussy. In fact, my own juices were now mingling with the oil and I knew she could feel them. One hand would slide by my lips and when it reversed direction, one finger would gently spread my lips and I could feel it touching the silken sides, not stopping, but sliding up to stop and now press my pucker. I could barely lie still. I know the first time she spread my lips I let out a slight moan and when she pressed my butt hole it happen again. And then she stopped! She lowered the sheet and asked me to lie on my back. I could barely move. Her eyes were violet. Shocking to see, that color of eyes is so rare. I was mesmerized and I couldn't help smiling at her. I told her I didn't need the sheet any longer and again I said how much I loved her massaging me.

It felt like four hands when she spread the warm elixir on my breasts and even more as she kneaded them and pinched my nipples too. I no longer cared what she did to me as long as she didn't stop. One moment fluttering from my pubes to my face, the next squeezing and prodding my breasts and nipples. Then teasing my belly button and tugging my pubic hairs. She was playing a symphony and I was on fire. Daniele raised my leg and rested my ankle on her shoulder. This way she was able to slide both hands up and down my leg, touching and feeling first the top of my legs and then the bottoms, sliding from my ankle to the tops of my thighs and back. When she switched legs, her fingers again gently, softly, oh so sensually fluttered over my pussy. My pussy, now dripping its juices, leaking out and dripping over my anus, mixing with the oils and creating an aroma that was sweeter than the jasmine scented sheet.

Daniele's fingers, now pinching my swollen outer lips, pulling them, rubbing them and moving them aside so she could see and tweak my clit. How many hours, this has gone on for an eternity and I never want it to end. I can feel it building now. No longer is it just a touching that is so wonderful, no longer is it making me excited and causing my heart to race and my blood to boil. No, I can feel that moment, that moment that never comes often enough. I can feel my body building to that climax that moment or eternity of cumming. Fingers, jerking my clit, probing my inner walls, pushing on my ass hole. Fingers never stopping, my cunt screaming for more and loving every little thing Daniele is doing. One finger, two inserted and fucking me. One deep and probing and rubbing that spot that now sends me spasming into ecstasy.

Cumming! Oh god, yes! I'm cumming.

Still she touches, caresses. She's gently wiping me. First my legs and hips and torso. Now gently wiping my pussy and ass, gently with soft wet cloth and fluffy towels. Covering me, leaving me with a "Goodbye Miss Jocelyn" and a gentle kiss to my cheek, I hear the door close. Some time later I wake and feel heaven all through my body.

Can we do it again? Now?

Chapter 3

Another shower and I sit and try to understand what has gone on in the last twenty-four hours. It seems an eternity since I received marching orders to Hong Kong and find myself more sensually satisfied than I have in three years.

Oh, this has been a wonderful trip so far. Sure hope I'm on a roll.

When I answered the phone I found I had just a half hour to ready myself for the tailor that was going to provide my business suits. Certainly I wanted to look both professional and feminine at the same time. I didn't know who I was going to negotiate with and that was more than enough reason to look both accepting and strong. I was confident that this hotel would provide the best in the country. Hong Kong was known for high quality custom made clothes and I may as well take advantage of it. Wouldn't it be nice to go home with some high fashion suits?

As I have learned to expect, my appointment arrived right on time. I was surprised to meet not only the very distinguished tailor, Mr. Lee, but three assistants as well. It was also interesting to note that Mr. Lee did not introduce the three gentlemen. I assumed it was part of his culture. After polite small talk, Mr. Lee directed that several oversized pattern and material swatch books be placed on a kitchenette island and he proceeded to ask what I had in mind. I told him of the meeting and my intent. He understood immediately and turned to the appropriate displays. I liked what he showed me and we then selected the materials for the different suits. I was enjoying this very much.

After selecting those Mr. Lee reached for the last of the catalogues and showed me clothing I had not expected to discuss. He was suggesting and certainly took for granted that he would be providing a complete ensemble. He pointed out blouses he thought would go with each suit, appropriate buttons and clasps, matching shoes, both high heeled and flats and to my complete surprise, intimate apparel that he said would both compliment the wardrobe and give me a feeling of complete superiority. Well this was a new and interesting approach.

What now I asked and he directed the assistants to prepare the measurement area. Measuring instruments appeared from yard sticks and measuring tapes to hem stitching guides. A three step platform was situated in the center of the carpet with delicate lighting stanchions placed around it. It was obvious that these gentlemen knew what they were doing and I was about to purchase the most perfect fitting clothes I had ever worn.

Mr. Lee then explained what was next to happen and using details and charts in his folder showed me why every measurement was most important. He said this all might take some time and suggested if I ever became fatigued to just let him know.

We began with me stepping up on to the platform and two of the assistants began measuring what I was wearing. Hem height, sleeve length, shoe size and collar size with nothing being overlooked. As each piece of clothing and accessory was measured and sketched by the third assistant, it was removed and the remaining pieces were then measured as well. Until this day, my bust size was simply determined by circling my chest with a tape measure and by trying on bras. Not today... Yes a tape measure surrounded me and measurement was noted. Bra strap location was noted and sketched and strap possibilities and non strap bras were discussed, among the four. I was left standing naked save for my bra and panties. One assistant reached up and unclasped my bra and Mr. Lee explained that they would not assume my bra was comfortable for me and they would do critical measurements to guarantee comfort to the point of never being aware that one was even being worn.

No one actually asked if I was uncomfortable with this semi nudity, and I suspected that this was normal and necessary. The tallest of the assistants placed a device with, it seemed, a thousand fine wires and by pushing it against my breast took a mirror image of it. He did this from numerous angles, placing his hand on the opposite side of my breast and then placing the instrument on the other. My breasts are not overly large, but they still are firm and I consider them perky. As much as I considered this event interesting and necessary, I also found it kind of... nice. Here was this exotic Asian, young and tall and handsome in his own way, completely anonymous, and feeling my right breast, it seemed, forever. Interestingly, he never touched my nipple. I most enjoyed him cupping my breast underneath while he measured above and when he repositioned the device he would lift my tit as if he were judging its weight. Of course all this manipulating only caused my nipple to think it was having fun. My areolas became excited and little goose bumps appeared all around my nipple letting all that were interested know how much it enjoyed the attention. Then my nipple, oh my, my nipple not only became erect, it hardened and reached out hoping for more attention. I had never had my breasts touched for so long without my nipples getting rubbed and squeezed and kissed. This was new and starting to get very exciting. I had an enormous urge to touch them myself.

Amazingly, after finishing with the device, my friendly assistant brought over a small thimble sized cup that he showed me contained a soft paraffin. I couldn't imagine. Holding my tit again, palming my tit, he dusted my nipple with what must have been baby powder. I almost jumped with the touch of the soft bristles on my very aroused nipple. Oh my how wonderful and it lasted for just a moment. I wanted him to just keep flicking that brush, but no.

Oh my god, he's taking a mold of my nipple! He's placed the miniature cup over my nipple and he's holding it there. With his other hand he's kneading my breast; I'm sure he's making sure he has a good impression. Well I certainly do. I cannot believe how wonderful this feels and God, he still has my other breast to measure.

I half expected a pop when he gently removed the thimble. One of the other assistants came over and smoothed a cleansing lotion on my breast and over my nipple. He gently rubbed it in, smoothing it and pushing the lotion over and around and used his fingers to tweak my excited bud being sure the liquid covered every little bit.

Please, don't stop.

I didn't realize that I had my eyes closed until the last assistant held my arm because I was swaying. Now a very soft cloth was used to wipe my breast and as it passed over my nipple, the cloth was squeezed and twisted so that all the lotion was wiped away. Swaying or no, I couldn't keep my eyes open the feeling of pleasure was so strong.

As my tall Asian began on my other breast, I noticed that I was getting very wet. I could feel my juices gathering and slipping past my pussy lips.

There was no way that my panties weren't getting wet! Certainly they would not notice, not with my legs held tightly together. There was no way I could stop, but not to worry, they were almost done. Oh god how I loved to have my tits measured! If they did this the same way back home I'd need two more bureaus just for custom bras.