Storytime - Karen in Hong Kong

Authors Note: This is a series of stories about an affair between Gary, a former executive and Maribeth, a ph.D working for the Veterans Administration. This relationship has been honest and open from the very beginning, and I am in the process of chronicling the events that have happened between us.

Very early on I had told Maribeth about two prior affairs I had, and she expressed an interest in sharing my experiences with these women. We came to call these discussions "Story Time." Sometimes the stories were things that actually happened with me and Jennifer or Karen, or some other women that over time had shared my bed. Sometimes they were stories that these ladies shared with me about other sexual experiences they had. In any event, they proved to be turn-on for both of us.

As Maribeth slipped between the sheets I could feel her warm naked body snuggle up to my back. Her soft breasts pressed against me and I felt her small hand find and squeeze my shoulder. "Hi babe," she whispered in my ear. "Mmmm," I responded, luxuriating in the the soft feminine touch of her body against mine.

Exactly how we ended up naked together in the Hyatt Anatole Hotel in Dallas on this November evening in 1997 is told in the as yet unwritten story entitled "Reunion."

"Remember what we talked about?" I heard her ask. "I remember a lot of things, lIttle one, what specifically do you have in mind?", I replied. She leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "You know.....story time."

In the last several months since Maribeth and I had begun a clandestine affair, we have been open with each other about our previous relationships. So we had begun to tell stories about the times we had had relations with other people. Often these narratives went long into the evening, what with answering questions, and periodically acting out some of the scenes we were describing.

Occasionally Story Time, which involved real people, would end up becoming embellished in mutual fantasies, but it really didn't seem to matter, since both Maribeth and I appeared to share a mutual streak of voyeurism.

Maribeth particularly, seemed interested in tapping my memories, since she said my encounters seemed so much more lustful and exotic than she believed her's to be. I'm not sure I agreed, but it was clear that on this night she was settling in, ready to be the good audience.

I rolled over and taking her in my arms, she snuggled up and put her head on my shoulder. When it was my turn to be storyteller this was the position we usually adopted. My right arm was immobilized by the weight of her body but I could caress her back, my left hand was free to caress her face, hair, Neck and, of course, breasts. Maribeth's bare leg draped over mine and I could feel the heat of her pussy as it pressed against my hip.

"So, my curious little minx, what do you desire to hear about tonight?" Looking up she responded; "You we're going to tell me about Karen." Well, I had already told her a few things about Karen. She knew that Karen and I had an affair that lasted almost four years in the mid '80s, but now she wanted to learn more, and so I began.

Karen and I had known each other for years before we became lovers. When I first met her she was an HR manager in the company I worked for, but soon thereafter she left to start her own consulting practice and we lost touch for several years until I got involved in business development, and we used her company as a consultant.

Karen was a useful asset when we were evaluating prospective acquisition candidates, particularly when it came to those sticky questions about what we would be proposing for the company's senior management. Would they still have jobs and responsibilities or would they be bought out? Since many of these discussions were extremely sensitive and very secret we usually did not use our own HR people until later in the process.

Maribeth pressed her breast more firmly against my hand and said, "She sounds like she was very capable." I agreed and said it was interesting that, when I looked back on all of the women in my life that trait was one thing they all had in common. I guess I'm attracted to strong, independent women and I would like to think that I filled a void that I sensed so many of them had.

"What do you think that was?" the soft voice in my ear asked.

I replied that I wasn't exactly sure there was a short answer to her question, but if she would let me ramble a bit, perhaps she might be helpful in assisting me in finding the right words.

Maribeth's eyes looked up and seemed to gave me a silent accent that she'd help if she could but, not really knowing where I was going, there was nothing more she could say.

As promised, I began hesitantly. I said I thought that for women to be successful in professional careers that they had to acquire some behaviors that I didn't think came naturally, at least not as naturally as it did for most men. Aggressiveness and non-emotional involvement were the two aspects I had in mind as examples of what I meant.

Since Maribeth herself had climbed to the upper echelon of the VA medical staff, I could see that, at least so far, she was affirming this statement, since I heard her mumble, "Yeah, you work twice as hard to get half the credit."

Satisfied that I had not yet stepped on the proverbial rake, I cautiously continued. I said I thought that in achieving and maintaining their professional status, that somewhere along the line the delicate balance that nature built into each of us got a little out of kilter for some of these women. The emotions and self image that make every woman feel secure in their inherent femininity seemed to be crying out for affirmation.

In the bedroom, these women seemed to be saying that "I want to reaffirm who I really am as female, and while I want to give myself to you, don't let me forget that you have the ability to take me if you want."

At this juncture, I admit that I was at a loss of exactly how to follow up this last comment, so I glanced down to seek some helpful guidence, only to become aware that tears were flowing down Maribeth's cheek. I wiped them as best I could with my fingers and tipped her chin so we were eye to eye. "Did I say something wrong?" I asked.

Maribeth whispered, "No....nothing wrong," and after a long pause she said, "you're right.....damn you, you're right."

We cuddled for a long time in silence. I certainly didn't know what to say and it appeared that Maribeth didn't either, but finally she started to speak; "I will tell you from my own experience that most men don't know how to handle us. Either they're so 'macho' that we never have a chance to feel feminine, or they're so wimpy that we somehow have to fulfill their part as well as ours." "What you said was so true; let us know how beautiful and feminine we are in your eyes, but we don't want to be in control. Take us gently......but please take us."

In her own way Maribeth was confirming the thoughts that I was having so much trouble wrapping words around. I knew as a man, I have a sexual attraction to women, but I'm acutely aware that I also have responsibilities for their protection and their happiness. I honestly believe that the union of these feelings is what defines 'masculinity'.

So in the end, enwrapped in Maribeth's embrace, I concluded that what I provided to these women was simply that. A masculine aura within which their femininity could blossom. Ying and yang; opposed but unified, the permission to be who they were born to be.

After a moment, I commented that our discussion had led pretty far afield since I was supposed to be telling Maribeth about Karen and not my philosophical ramblings about men and professional women in the bedroom.

At this, she reached up and put her finger on my lips as to cut off my words. "In no way did you go far afield," she said. "Actually, I think you hit the bullseye, and now I know how you are so attractive to people like Karen and me," "oh no, you're not far afield at all."

Since Karen was now again the subject of Story Time, I proceeded to describe her. Like Jennifer she wore glasses but unlike her, she clipped her blonde hair short. Physically she and Maribeth were virtual twins. Same figure, same height, weight and skin color. The biggest difference was that Karen had big dimples and slightly buck teeth. The teeth especially bothered her but she was deathly afraid of dental work so never tried to have them fixed. For my part, I thought they looked cute.

At the time we became lovers, Karen was married but separated from her second husband Steve. Yeah I know Jennifer (another lady I had an affair with earlier) also had a husband named Steve, but this was just a coincidence. Karen also had a son, Kevin who was a freshman at Cornell.

As I said, Karen and I had worked together off and on for years and even had quite a few dinners together. We always seemed to be comfortable in each other's company and over time we gradually opened up to each other both personal and professional things that you normally wouldn't share.

As I said, there were several instances, especially in the mid-80's when Karen would actually be working for me on various projects and I would be lying if I said that after some late night dinners and drinks the thought of asking her to join me in my room hadn't occurred to me. Indeed it had, lots of times. I found her incredibly attractive. However, I had made myself a promise years before, to never play in my own sandbox. Even though Karen was technically a consultant and not an employee, while I was supervising her I considered her covered by my personal covenant.

Years later, Karen confessed that there had been several times during that period, that had I given the slightest inkling that I was harboring such thoughts she would have torn my clothes off right there. Twice, she admitted that she herself was thinking about how she could seduce me into her bed. The offer was on her lips but went unsaid. Both times she also confessed she took out her sexual frustration with her trusty vibrator. Apparently she also called me some bad names.

So, how did we finally get together?

Like so many things in my life, God brought us together. Yes, I know. Generally crediting God with arranging illicit affairs is not normally something we hear about in Sunday sermons. But when I tell you how it happened, you can give me a better explanation.

The year was 1982 and global markets were opening and expanding. While this was happening everywhere, the biggest untapped market was China. Several of our biggest corporate clients were busy expanding operations there and as a key supplier we were expected to support this by producing products for them in China. This meant that we either had to acquire, or most likely build a factory in China to do so.

At this time I was not only the senior executive in charge of the business group that supplied these clients, but from my previous stent in business development I was also the person that had the asian based contacts to be able to answer the question of exactly how we should proceed. That's how one night in November 1982 I found myself at the Grand Hyatt Hong Kong.

My plane had arrived late afternoon and after the obligatory suicide cab ride through the streets of Kwaloon, I checked into the hotel, made some calls to confirm appointments for the next day, made a note to call home after 11p.m. local and headed to the VIP lounge for a quick drink before dinner.

I should point out that, unlike the U.S., most top tier international hotels have a VIP lounge for which you have to be specially registered. Usually they're located in the top floor, and such was the case at the Hyatt which was probably the 21st floor.

My room was on the 17th, so I hit the up button on the elevator and waited.

And twenty seconds later, the doors slide open and there stands Karen.

If this was a movie, I could see the camera panning from her face to mine and back again several times registering the total disbelief on both of our faces. Concerned that the door was going to close in my face I stepped in and we gave each other big hugs while talking over each other saying I didn't know you were here. Words fail to adequately describe the awkwardness of the situation, but in a few seconds we were laughing together.

She said she had just gotten on the elevator at level 14 on her way to the lounge too when the bell rang at 17 and the doors opened to reveal....me.

We hadn't seen each other for probably eight months at that point, so you can imagine it took a few free drinks in the lounge for us to catch up. The big news was her announcement that she had separated from Steve and had moved into an apartment. I had gathered that they may have been having some problems but I also knew that since it was her second marriage she was willing to try to work things out. Apparently it wasn't going the way she hoped.

We had dinner in the hotel dining room at a little two person table that was next to a huge glass wall that looked out at the harbor and the lighted skyscrapers on Hong Kong Island. It was beautiful. The room was dark by U.S. standards and our table was lit by a little shaded lamp that provided just the right amount of light to make Karen's face glow.

Of course she was working. Her client was a Chinese software company who was looking to expand into the United States and she was conducting a two week seminar downstairs for some of their employees who would be working in the U.S. Apparently everyone wanted to go, so a secondary part of her assignment was to evaluate the participants and recommend who should be selected. We both knew this included identifying who wouldn't defect.

Remember, in 1982, Hong Kong was still a British colony, so it was not unusual for Chinese companies to meet their western counterparts there. It was considered almost neutral ground.

After dinner we went back up to the VIP lounge which had lost most of the people who had been there earlier. Besides Karen and I there was only two Asian gentlemen sitting at the bar, the bartender and one waitress. We both ordered wine and sat in a lounge that faced the harbor. It was pretty much the same view we had at dinner, but just as beautiful. We sipped wine and talked for about an hour and as we did I could feel something magical was happening.

It started when I felt Karen's lips on mine. Did I lean in and kiss her? Did her lips seek mine first? I don't honestly know. But suddenly we're embracing like long lost lovers. Lover's only in our minds perhaps, but lovers nonetheless.

I turned to Maribeth, who had been listening silently for the twenty minutes or so it had taken me to speak those words and kissed her lips. "Little one", I asked, "are you awake?"

"Mummmm" was the unarticulated response. "Oh yes, I was just thinking about God", as she snuggled closer.

My arms were full of Maribeth and by that point I had just spent twenty minutes or so telling her about the beginnings of my affair with Karen.

Maribeth and I were lying side by side facing each other. Her free hand was squeezing my shoulder and bicep, mine was holding, squeezing, hefting and otherwise mauling her ample boob. I was thinking that I had much the better of this exchange, but of course this is only from a male's point if view.

"So you really don't know who initiated that first kiss?", Maribeth asked. "No," I said. "There was obviously a lot of sexual tension in the air, and Karen and I were talking, when she looked at me and I looked at her and the next thing I remember is our lips touched. It was a very gentle kiss but it lasted quite a few seconds."

Maribeth leaned forward and kissed me. "Like this," she murmured as more than a few seconds speeded by. "Yep, pretty much just like that." I said when we came up for air, "except your lipstick tastes different." Not knowing how to explain what "different" meant, I continued.

After our kiss, the next obvious question was my room or her's. Apparently we were both thinking in unison, because before I could ask, she said, "my room is a mess, I've got seminar materials spread all over the bed, the tables and the couch, if I have to move them now I'll never get them back in order."

I quickly signed the tab and arm in arm we headed to the elevator. I waved to the bartender and glanced at the two men at a table still immersed in whatever they were discussing. I could smell Karen's perfume which was always distinctive and of course my mind was racing with the possibilities that could be laying ahead. I had fantasized numerous times about sex with Karen, and I was hoping that reality would not be a disappointment.

I was pretty sure that my room wasn't a mess because I hadn't even started unpacking. My suitcase stood unopened next to the closet and the fruit bowl that the hotel provided as a welcoming gift was still displayed on the coffee table. Once inside we again embraced and our tongue's met and began a gentle exploration. After a moment, Karen excused herself and headed to the bathroom and I headed to the small refrigerator which was an honor bar. I took out two carafes of Pinot Grigio and poured their contents into the two wine glasses that sat on top of the bar.

I was still holding both glasses and staring out at Hong Kong harbor when I felt one bare arm encircle my waist while a slim hand reached from behind to relieve me of one of the glasses. I knew instantly that some clothing had been removed since when last I saw her Karen was wearing a stylish gray jacket over a red blouse. Naked arms were a clue that the jacket was gone and most like the blouse was too.

I felt her lips nuzzle the nape of my neck with fleeting kisses and I could feel her body press against my back. Looking up I could see us reflected in the window as the room lights backlit the two figures who were pressed together. In the dim reflection it was impossible to discern whether Karen was completely naked, but it seemed so. The thought crossed my mind that in none of my fantasies about this moment did I envision first seeing her naked body as a reflection in a window.

Savoring the moment, I took a sip of wine and said, "You seem to be missing some of your clothes, have you misplaced them?" The slim hand disappeared and I could see Karen also taking a sip of wine. She replied, "I had to, I could never let you see what underwear I was wearing, you would have thought I was an 80 year old grandmother."

Back in Dallas, Maribeth had been listening with interest to Karen's revelation. "Really? Was it that bad?" I said that later I did get a look and I had to agree that if I was a woman seeking a romantic evening I would definitely have not worn what she had. The white panties were more like boxer shorts and the bra was designed for utility not seduction. Since Karen had no idea when she dressed that morning that she would be in this situation, I'm sure it never crossed her mind.

"It always crosses my mind when I know I'm going to see you," the little voice in my ear said. "Do you remember the underwear I wore on our date in Virginia?" Maribeth was referring to the day we had met while I was in the Army in 1966. That evening she had lost her virginity in a hotel in Norfolk.

Well of course I remembered because that was a date that Maribeth had gotten so wet that she had to remove her panties which she gave to me later that evening and which I still have in a very secure place. I also remembered the flimsy half bra she'd worn. "Yes, little slut, I'm aware that you always know how to dress for the occasion."

"So Karen is buck naked and you're still fully clothed, right?" Maribeth asked. I affirmed that was the case, and as I turned towards Karen, her feminine nakedness was on full display. At the time she was 40 but looked more like 30. She was in great shape. Every morning she did the RCMP exercises and it showed. There was very little fat on her 5'-5" frame and her skin was flawless. Her slender shoulders held thin but firm arms, and her hips curved nicely down to well muscled feminine legs.