The Dragon Lady at the Office

There are tough, no nonsense, professional Asian girls who look like the very last women who would go to bed with you. But if you can crack that cold exterior they are the most fiery bitches in bed, practically fucking you to death and willing to try anything from anal sex to bondage.

Ms. Chen was one of those dragon lady oriental girls, thin and tiny, but a little dynamo in the office. She was a ball buster at meetings, never having a problem ripping a subordinate to shreds and humiliating him for fucking up.

About two months before I left for another job, the two of us were sent on a trip together. We traveled for almost two weeks, visiting a different place every two days. We had to work together as a team, and so we spent every night together at dinner and then in either my hotel room or hers prepping for the next day's meetings. We got to know each other pretty well after the first week, and I went from thinking that I would never have a chance to crack her tough shell to being almost positive I was going to be able to fuck her that weekend.

Maybe I always knew that her toughness was all an act to overcompensate for feeling like she had to prove she was as tough as the boys, and that what she really wanted was to be able to relax and be commanded herself, to let herself go in the privacy of the bedroom and be dominated in ways that she would never allow in the office.

We were in San Diego, spending the weekend because it was cheaper for us to stay over the two nights, even without any meetings, than it was to fly us both back home and back onto the road again. Since we had been working so hard, we decided to relax and go sailing. I had sailed a lot when I was in college, and so I said I would take care of everything. I rented a small sailboat that we could take out for the day, and I made sure to pack a lot of alcohol.

It was summer, and so when we were out on the water the next morning, drinking tequila on the rocks and sunbathing, she got pretty hammered by noon. I had the excuse that I couldn't get too drunk, since I needed sail the boat, but I made sure to keep feeding her a new drink every time she was low. We were joking around all morning, horsing around the boat like two teenagers, and by the early afternoon she was sunbathing topless and staggering around the deck. I even got a few shots of her with my digital camera.

I thought about fucking her that afternoon, on the deck of the boat, but something told me that she wasn't quite ready yet, and I should wait. At the end of the day, I took the boat in as the sun was setting, and she had sobered up enough to sit and appreciate the beautiful sunset, hanging onto my arm.

The next morning, I didn't see her at breakfast or lunch, and when I called her room in the afternoon, there was no answer. I was concerned that she was freaking out, especially about being topless in front of me, and that we were going to be awkward with each other the rest of the trip. I was kicking myself for not just fucking her the day before, and was convinced that I had blown my chance.

That night, however, she called my cel phone and said that she had been so hungover that she had just lain in bed all day, but that she needed to eat some dinner and so was venturing out. When I saw her at the hotel restaurant, she did indeed look awful, and she was giving all kinds of mixed signals. I decided to broach the subject of her being topless so that it would be out in the open, asking her if she was okay with it and that I would be discrete. I also said I had treasured the fact that she had trusted me enough to be comfortable with me the day before (I didn't mention alcohol as the cause of this loss of inhibition, of course!), and that I really thought more of her than ever before.

She seemed genuinely touched by this, and she said that she respected me now in ways that she had not before, revealing that she had always thought I was a typical male chauvinist pig (I hadn't heard that phrase used outside of 1970s movies!), but I had really changed her mind. I was beginning to think that I had taken the totally wrong strategy with her, and that perhaps I should have donned my "sensitive male" persona with her from the beginning rather than the path of being the hard competitor who eventually forces her to submit. Was I wrong that she really wanted to find someone who she would be willing to submit to, someone who could dominate her and not be weak?

The next few days of meetings was full of mixed signals, and I was convinced I had no chance with her. Maybe that's why on our second to last night I just told myself "fuck it" and decided to throw caution to the wind. I made up a pretense after our mid-afternoon meeting to criticize her and denigrate a decision she had made earlier. In fact, I was actually right about my criticism, but never would have dared tell her in such a blunt way before. I could see her anger and she was spitting mad the rest of the day. We had it out in the car ride back to the hotel, and she stormed off to her room. For the first time all trip we ate dinner apart, and I waited until nearly midnight to knock on her door.

At first she didn't answer, but after five minutes of knocking, she finally came to the door in her robe and asked what I wanted. I apologized and said that I had been out of line criticizing her, but I was also firm in not saying that I had been wrong. I offered to buy her a drink to make peace. She looked hesitant, and then agreed, and seeing how conflicted she was, I knew I had her.

With a combination of martinis and steady and aggressive assumption of the authority of male dominance, I worked on her self-doubt about the "mistake" she had made that day, and by the time of the last call at 2am, she was weak and just drunk enough to be pliable. I walked her back to my hotel room rather than hers, and told her I wanted to talk to her about something, not asking whether she wanted to come in but assuming it. She hesitated, but then came in after me.

I broke out some of the Scotch from the bar fridge and poured us drinks, keeping her in suspense. After raising our glasses with a cheer, I told her that she was a sexy woman and that I had wanted nothing more to fuck her that day on the sailboat, and that I knew that she had wanted me to as well. She blushed and began to act shocked and offended, standing up to leave, but I firmly commanded her to sit down.

I didn't give her a chance to speak and quickly proceeded to tell her that I knew that she had not been that drunk when she took off her top, and that she probably didn't realize how easy she had been to read, that if she had been able to see herself it would have been obvious that she was horny and had been trying to seduce me. She again protested, but I could tell that I had hit home and that she indeed had been thinking about it.

I walked over to her and without asking I kissed her, holding her head by her hair so that she couldn't pull back or turn her head away--I took control of her and didn't let up, kissing her neck and breasts until she began moaning, and then carrying her to the bed, spreading her legs and rubbing her through her panties until the crotch was damp with her excitement.

I kissed my way past her breasts and down between her legs, pulling her underwear off and kissing her cunt, licking and fingering her for almost an hour until she had come three or four times. I was her master all night, turning her onto her stomach and spanking her, and then fucking her from behind doggy style, occasionally pausing to spank her until her ass was beet red.

I held her hair like I was pulling on the reins of a bucking horse, pounding into her, my balls slapping against her upturned ass, and finally fucking her asshole from behind as she buried her face into the pillow and whimpered.

I came in her ass and then forced her around to lick my cock clean, grabbing a fistful of her hair and directing her face to my dick as if her mouth was a human kleenex. "Lick it clean, bitch," I said harshly, and as I suspected the sound of command in my voice brought an immediate acquiescence.

I forced her to keep licking and sucking until I was hard again, and then I fucked her, face to face with her knees bent to her chest and her ankles over my shoulders. I plowed into her until she was moaning in submission, and when she was coming again I timed my orgasm to coincide with hers, immediately switching my demeanor after we had finished coming to a softer, gentler tone. I held her and kissed her face tenderly, stroking her hair softly now with my fingers, and I was surprised when tears began rolling out of her eyes as she clung to me and sobbed.

We had another night of sex, almost identical, with me in command all the way until the end, before flying home the following morning.

We never talked about it after that night, and she pretended as if nothing had happened, but every once in a while in the two months before I left, I would look into her eyes and give her a smirk, and she would quickly avert her eyes as if she were ashamed...