The Business Trip Ch. 02

I’d met the old man twice before. During the first meeting, he’d tried to convince me to act as an import agent for his wine. Since the wine had the bouquet of a dead fish and might well have had a use as a solvent, I told him the American market wasn’t ready for it.

The second meeting had gone better and ended with me no longer having to call him by his lengthy Vietnamese name. I was permitted to use his title, General, or his nickname, “sir.” I have no idea if he ever was a general, but his staff seemed to show deference to him. ...Or was that fear?

The third meeting came about because my company had products to produce. Vietnam’s Workman’s Compensation costs were the same as employer health insurance contributions--zip. Their salary structure, even after bribes and kickbacks, cut manufacturing costs in half. The General had factory space. He had people. He was, according to him, our man.

Several things made this meeting unique. My previous meetings with the General were on his turf--Hanoi–but this one was on neutral ground, Bangkok. Also, the General’s entourage on those occasions had consisted of several men who had traded in their Palms and laptops for 9mm automatics. In Bangkok, the General brought his daughter and no one else. Is she was his bodyguard, she’d left her pistols, knives and grenades back in Hanoi. The dresses she wore were so tight a body search for weapons would have been fun, but the lack of hiding places made it unnecessary.

The Bangkok meeting was a change for me as well. Before, I’d always negotiated one-on-one with the General. This time, I was accompanied by my company’s Human Resources Director, Mel Zimmerman. I like to work alone and wasn’t happy about that. The General, however, was delighted. He must have been a porno movie director in his spare time, because he spent most of our meetings panning in on her crotch.

Mel–Melissa–noted this and played it for all it was worth. She’s small in height only, and spent a lot of time arching her back and stretching, putting her assets on the table, so to speak. And what assets they are! Large tits and the most magnificent ass I’ve ever seen. The flat belly and legs belied how she got that ass. She’d spent many hours in the gym working for it.

In most settings, Mel would have no competition. She would be hands down the most gorgeous piece of ass in the room. In the first meeting, however, I found myself comparing her and the General’s daughter. Both women were about five feet, Mel with black, pixie cut hair. The Vietnamese woman’s was long. Both were gorgeous. If I were a tit man, Mel’s C cups would have won the day, but I’m not. I’m an ass man, and they were both well rounded, muscular and just begging to be ridden.

Besides, I was just guessing where the General’s daughter’s breasts was concerned. The only thing I could go on was experience. A few hours before the meeting, my dick had been buried between Mel’s tits as she tried to convince me large tits were a good thing. I couldn’t see the General’s daughter providing the same service, even if it were a possibility. It wasn’t. Every time I began contemplating getting the daughter into bed, my mind turned to thoughts of the General’s normal group of jolly fellows--with their guns, knives and brass knuckles–and my hard-on would wilt.

That was the only time it was permitted to wilt. When we weren’t meeting with the General and his daughter, Mel made sure I was up and ready. She had a myriad of tricks to do that. Sometimes she would shove her tongue up my ass–hard. Other times, she’d gently try to force her tongue inside the tip of my dick. When she wasn’t doing that, she’d be flicking her tongue up and down my shaft, or sucking my balls into her mouth and swirling her tongue around them.

She’d do all of this in between sessions of deep throating me, licking the base of my cock while it was buried down to her larynx. That, above all, amazed me. I’m not overly large, but very few women have been able to deep throat me. Mel made it seem easy.

Of course all of this took place in our hotel room, not the meetings. We’d decided, after she’d fucked my brains out on the flight from San Francisco, we’d save the company money and share a suite. In the long run, we didn’t save a dime. Since the restaurant wouldn’t let us eat naked, we spend a lot of company money on room service.

Room Service was Mel’s specialty. She serviced me in the bed. She serviced me on the floor. She serviced me on the couch and balcony. She serviced me in the shower. And her “service” was special. Those hours in the gym had been spent strengthening all of her muscles. Once I was buried in her pussy, she gripped me like a vice and started moving her cunt muscles in a rhythm that would put a milking machine to shame... and she didn’t quit until she had her quota of cum. Sometimes that required a double shot.

It didn’t take long. She’d lay out flat on her belly and I’d fuck her from behind. Once the base of my dick hit that magnificent ass and she squeezed, it was all I could do to hold back. Not that a quick ejaculation never bothered her. While I was fucking her from behind, she was fucking her self from the front, playing with her large clit. What sent her off to paradise was the pulsing of a dick cumming inside her. That would get her screaming and bucking, which made me cum all the more. That in turn would launch her into a larger orgasm, which would get me going, bringing on stronger orgasms. The only thing that ended it was when one or both of us were close to passing out.

Not bad for a woman who had everyone at the home headquarters convinced she liked girls, not men. Mel may have been bi, and I looked forward to having her meet my wife to investigate that, but a Lesbian? Not hardly.

****

“You like a shaved pussy?”

I raised my head to watch Mel raising and lowering herself on my dick. When I was buried in her, my pubic hair became hers, so I got an idea what she would look like. Well, sort of. My pubic hair is brown. Hers would be black. “I prefer a trimmed bush, but it’s better to eat you without one.” I grinned. “I don’t have to pick pubies from between my teeth.”

She laughed. “I can’t think of a better reason to keep shaving it then. ...Does your wife shave?”

“Has to. Some of the bikinis she wears are pretty skimpy.”

“That’s right. She’s a model.” Mel stopped moving and commenced milking with her vaginal muscles. “Still, with her being a blond, I’d think it wouldn’t show that much.” She laughed. “With me, I have to wax or it looks like I have a five o’clock shadow.”

I tried to laugh, but it’s hard when all that cum was making the journey from my balls to Mel’s cunt. “Uh huh.”

“Think I should fuck him?”

I groaned, having trouble following the conversation. “Who?”

“The General.” She squeezed my dick harder and began fingering her clit. “Shit, I don’t know why I dress for the meetings. He has me mentally stripped naked before the coffee arrives.” Mel rose up and slammed down against my groin--hard--groaning as she did.

“This a turn on for you? Thinking about fucking an old communist?”

Her eyes rolled up into her head. “Sort of. ...Well, no. What’s turning me on right now is your dick. C’mon. Give mama Mel what she wants.”

I was happy to oblige. The pressure of holding back was killing me. I arched my back and began pumping my load into her. Her wriggling and twisting increased as she felt the warm cum fill her pussy and I had to grab hold of her hips.

I groaned and shot the last of my load.

She screamed.

Then Mel rolled off and spun around, putting my dick in her warm mouth. As she vacuumed up the excess, she twisted further around to put her cunt in my face. Mel wanted to be cleaned as well.

I obliged, though I have never been fond of eating my own cum. I licked and she dribbled out the milky substance mixed with her own cum juice. Her copious fluids killed the taste of my cum, and I swallowed it easily.

Mel spun me around and began soaping my back. “So, do you think I should fuck him? Or maybe you just want to fuck the daughter.” She laughed. “You’re such a slut.”

“Fucking a potential client’s daughter isn’t my negotiating style, but she may become the client. One romp with you, and we might be burying the old man with his ancestors.”

She laughed. “Smiling, no doubt.”

“No doubt.” I was beginning to worry about my own health. My balls were working overtime to keep Mel happy, and I was a long way past puberty. It was starting to hurt. “How do you know he’s capable? Maybe he can look but can’t touch.”

“Not according to his daughter.”

“Huh?”

“On one of our trips to the ladies’ room. She asked me if I were married. I said I wasn’t. Then she asked me if I was screwing you. I said I was.”

“You did what?”

“Then she says her father would really like to get to know me better.”

“He has his daughter out procuring someone to haul his ashes?”

“She’s not his daughter, or if she is, they are closer than they should be.”

“How do you know that?” I switched and began washing Mel’s back, watching the shower water cascade through the crack in her ass. “God I love that ass.”

“So you’ve said.” She smiled. “The reason I don’t think she’s a daughter is because I joked with her that I’ve never slept with an oriental man. I’d always heard they weren’t very large. She says the General has a very large dick. How would a daughter know that unless that dick has been buried in her?”

“Good point. Maybe they believe the family that lays together, stays together.”

“Could be, but I doubt it. The woman is French Vietnamese.”

I agreed. If the French had done nothing else during their occupation of Indochina, they had produced some exquisitely beautiful women. They seemed to pick up the best of both worlds’ traits and were dark haired, delicate-featured and magnificent. “Maybe her mother is French Vietnamese.”

“No. The General showed me a picture of his wife. Short. Dumpy. Looks like she’d be right as home in a rice field. Mud hen ugly.”

“So the daughter is...?”

“I would guess the polite name would be ‘mistress,’ though we don’t know if that’s true. She could just be an escort he rented for the trip.” She laughed. “And if he’s able to handle an eighteen-year old libido, I won’t kill him.”

I watched her turn and get down on her knees. My cock disappeared in her mouth while she soaped and washed my balls. “I don’t know about that. I’m half his age and having trouble keeping up with you.”

She laughed. “Bitch, bitch, bitch.” Happy that she’d started the process, she stood, turned and ground her ass into my groin to finish it.

Not that I didn’t participate. At her height, she’d been grinding her ass into my thighs if I hadn’t bent my knees.“So you’re sure she’s not his daughter?”

Mel grinned. “Let’s find out.”

I casually noticed she had me stiff again and was starting to work me into her cunt. “How would we do that?”

“I tell the old boy I’ll fuck him, but only if you and the girl watch. I’ll say it’s a turn on of mine, and the only way I can get off is with others watching.”

“And?”

“If she’s really his daughter, he’ll balk. No man wants his daughter watching him fuck, and especially when he’s screwing a woman who’s not her mother. I don’t care if Vietnam is Communist. Wives are the same all over, and if said daughter told Mom where his dick has been, the General’s life, as he knows it, will be over.”

“My wife would be cool with it.”

“I know. You’ve told me about your ‘arrangement.’ I’ll have to check that out when we get home.”

I thought about being sandwiched in bed between my tall, slim, blond wife–with her exquisite tits--and Mel with her magnificent ass. I came.

“Wow. Where did that come from?” Mel rubbed her clit furiously. “I wasn’t ready yet.”

I dropped to my knees to help, sucking her clit into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. I felt her start to buck.

Then she ground her bald pussy into my face, screaming.

I stood. “Sorry. The thought of you, Gretchen and me in bed together was too much.” I laughed. “Even if it will give me a complex. My wife is much better at eating pussy than I am.”

Mel smiled. “I can’t wait.”

****

Mel had discarded her usual attire, a business suit, and opted for and oriental-style dress. I whistled. The slit up the side went almost to the hip. Very practical, I thought, since without the slit I’d have to find something to wheel her around. She’d be unable to move. What really caught my eye was the dress had been modified from the usual high collar design. The high collar was there, and buttoned, but there was a broad expanse of material missing, exposing an ample amount of bosom. That led me to another discovery. As tight as the dress fit, I should have seen bra and panty lines. “I see you’re ready for the Bangkok heat.”

“Huh?”

“No underwear.”

She smiled. “Yup, stripped and ready for action. I don’t want to hold the old boy up if he decides he wants to play.”

“In that outfit? The decision will be whether to do it on the spot or go somewhere else.”

“Here?” She swept her hand around the suite. “If you have a hang up about using our bed, I can suggest somewhere else.”

I laughed. “No hangups. The bed. The floor. The couch. Whatever get you going and blows your skirt up.”

She walked over and planted a large kiss on me, fondling my crotch as she did. “You get me going.”

I stepped back and held up my watch. “Later, wench. We have to leave right now if we’re going to get to the meeting on time.”

She hiked up the dress and waggled her bare ass in my direction. “Sure?”

I swatted it lightly. “No, I’m not sure, but we’d better go anyway.”

The walk to the conference room required us to traverse the lobby. All eyes were on Melissa. I watched a bellhop dump a load of suitcases out of his cart. A guest at the desk dropped his pen. The bell captain, in a rush to lead our way and open the conference room door for Melissa, ran over two prim and proper British matrons, knocking them on their ample asses. He never paused.

The General’s reaction was predictable. He rose from his chair to greet us, but no words came out of his mouth. Maybe he was too busy to speak. I noticed he appeared to be erecting a tent in his pants. I also noticed Mel made a point of staring at the construction project, a fact that didn’t escape him as he sat down without a word.

“Good morning, General.” Mel smiled brightly and put her portfolio on the table. “I think we’ve come up with an alternative position that will satisfy all of us.”

I laughed inwardly. I knew what was going through the General’s mind and the only alternative positions he was contemplating were described in the Kama Sutra. I smiled at the daughter and bid her a good morning. It was a wasted effort because the daughter was dividing her stares between Mel’s cleavage and the General’s crotch.

“General, why don’t I trade places with your daughter?” Mel’s voice gushed and dripped sex. “That way I can sit next to you. It would be easier for me to highlight the changes we made.”

The General--still unable to speak--fairly shoved his daughter out of her chair. He did manage a smile as he pointed tp the empty chair, nodding.

I watched Mel walk around the table and take her seat, hiking up her dress as she did. I continued to stare as she slid the chair closer to the General, opened her portfolio and began to discuss the papers. Then I noted the daughter hadn’t moved. She was standing behind the General, seemingly transfixed with the two crotches. I smiled, slid back the chair next to me and offered it to her.

When the General said something in Vietnamese to her, the woman nodded and walked slowly to the proffered chair. She took her seat and stared across the table at Mel and the General.

“Are you enjoying Bangkok?”

She looked at me and nodded.

“Perhaps after we’re done here, you and your father could go to Chang Mai. It’s quite beautiful this time of year. You can float the river and look at the birds. It’s spectacular.”

She wasn’t having any of it. Instead of answering, she turned to stare across the table, straining to listen to the conversation. It’s good she ignored me because if she hadn’t, she would have missed the General signing the contract.

I was shocked. I expected the General to object to some of the provisions we’d left in the contract, and I was ready to argue the points with him. Instead, he just signed without saying a word. The only explanation was Melissa’s right hand. Her left hand was turning pages on the table, pointing for places for him to sign or initial, but her other hand was out of sight. Judging from the look on the General’s face, I could only assume she was helping with the tent construction project.

Mel closed the portfolio and zipped it. “Well, that’s that. Let me drop this off at the desk, so they can put it in the safe, then why don’t we go to our suite for a little celebration?” She grinned at the General. “Unless, of course, you’d like to go elsewhere. The guidebook says there are many ‘gentlemen’s clubs’ in Bangkok.” She smiled at me. “I’ve heard of one where they women dance in glass cages, each with a number. You can select the one that fancies you.”

I choked. I’d been to the place on another trip, but I’d never mentioned it to Mel. I wondered how she knew about it, but decided she’d probably done some in depth research on Bangkok before we left. She’d certainly researched me and my less than stellar reputation for fidelity to my wife.

“I’ve heard of such a place.” The General cleared his throat. “I can imagine no women more beautiful or appealing than you, Ms. Zimmerman

“Please. Melissa... or Mel.”

The General laughed. “Only in America would they call a beautiful woman by a man’s name.” He turned to his daughter and spoke Vietnamese. When he saw her nod, he turned back. “We would be happy to accept your invitation Ms. Zim... Mel.”

I got everyone arranged and watered. Mel and the General took the sofa. He was Scotch neat, and she was a vodka gimlet... with ice. The daughter sat in an easy chair across the round coffee table from the couch. She was white wine. I sat in the chair next to her, drinking a Beefeater Martini that had only enough Beefeaters in it to give it an aroma. The rest was water. I had decided that if someone needed to be sober, and it was me. Besides, I knew about the forthcoming show, and I wanted to enjoy it.

Mel lost no time and was soon engaging the General in a passionate lip lock. Her hand strayed to his crotch, and when she felt him stop her, she pulled away. “A problem?”

“Is there someplace private we could go?”

“There is.” She gave him a wicked smile. “But it’s not as much fun for me. I prefer to be watched. It’s really exciting for me and heightens my passion. ...But I understand if you cannot do that... I mean with your daughter in the room.”

I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw the young woman glaring. When I looked back at the General, I saw an equally forceful stare. The two of them were communicating without words. Apparently he won, because I watched him twist in his seat and shove a meaty hand between Mel’s legs.

Mel responded by lifting her hips and sliding the dress up to her waist. Then she let the General know his fingers weren’t sufficient. She wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled his head into her lap.

I was amazed that a woman that small had such strength, but I didn’t contemplate it for very long. I was more interested in watching the daughter. I saw she was squirming in the chair while staring at the couple on the couch. What I didn’t know was why she was squirming. Was she uncomfortable, or was she getting turned on? I wanted to find out, but if Mel was mistaken and this really was the General’s daughter, that was a different ball game. My thoughts went back to his bodyguards I’d met on previous occasions.