She was drinking her usual ice mocha at the local Starbucks when she noticed a guy in the corner talking on his cell phone. Her lip curled a bit. She drank him in deeply as she sucked her coffee through the straw. She noted his slightly long pure black hair that obscured her view of his eyes. He was bowing emphatically, uttering a rapid stream of apologies, as if the person on the line could see as well as hear him. The cute cowering underling, she mused. Good little salaryman. She undressed him with her eyes, still sucking on the coffee. As her brain switched from observation mode to predatory mode, her tongue snaked around the straw as she pulled the cold liquid into her mouth. Because she was so focused on him, she was rather unaware of the action.
He continued apologizing for what seemed like eternity. She thought "These damn Japanese have more words for 'sorry' than the Inuit have for snow." Finally he hung up, stashed his stylish black cell in his equally stylish bag. That done, his shoulders slumped slightly and he looked down at his polished square-toed shoes. She waited for her moment to move in.
She judged him to be about late twenties early thirty-ish, unmarried, probably overworked with a shitty salary. Probably can't understand a lick of English.
He looked up, shook his head and now she could see his eyes that were a nice dark brown, just a touch lighter than the usual black color. She saw him see her as she continued her unabashed staring. Watched him as he perceived her Caucasian features, her ample bust, her soft hips. He looked away so as not to be obvious. But she continued staring, not giving a damn whether she was obvious or not. That was her cue, his gesture of temerity. Quickly, she rose from her seat.
Just a few strides and she was standing before him. He pretended to read the business magazine in front of him. Pretended he could not see the foreign girl towering over his corner table.
"Hello," she said to him, in English. "How are you today?"
"Eeeh~?" He uttered in terror and confusion at the foreign tongue, lowering the magazine. His eyes resembled that of a frightened woodland creature as he was forced to acknowledge her presence. Having produced the desired effect, she smirked, though to him it probably resembled a friendly smile.
"How. Are. You. Today?" she repeated in a condescendingly slow manner. It was the wicked English teacher to the struggling student.
He blinked, eyes taking in her heeled feet, the hem of her skirt before looking up at her face again.
"Ore..sono....anou....I...I amu fine" he stuttered. "Sorry...no English."
She grinned at him more widely, knowing that probably scared him to death as much as speaking English. Okay, I guess I'll give the guy a little break, she thought. Of course, she wanted to scare him, but not enough to make him run...She addressed him in Japanese.
"Gomen ne...My name is Sandra. What is your name?"
"Neyagawa to moushimasu. Yoroshiku onegai itashimasu." he said, bowing stiffly in his seat, speaking very formally. He was still nervous as hell, but obviously relieved to be back on more familiar ground.
"Nice to meet you, too, Neyagawa." she said to him casually, "But I would like to call you by your first name."
`Ah yes. It is usual with foreign people, isn`t it. Then, you can call me Osamu.`
`Osamu. I like that name.` she said.
`Thank you.` he said, beginning to relax a little. `Won`t you sit down?`
`Oh, thank you.` she said,taking the proffered seat. `My card,` she said, handing him her highly stylized personal business card. One side was in English, the other in Japanese.
He was clearly impressed as he took the card. `Wow. So you own a erm...novelty shop?`
`Yes,` she said. `Basically it was a product of my homesickness...you see, I created a store that sells everything I ever missed from America that I can`t get in Japan easily.`
`Well, things like Velveeta shells and cheese, root beer, fuzzy dice, tacky Budweiser paraphernalia.`
`Sounds interesting.` he said politely, tucking the business card carefully into his special meishi carrier and pulling out one of his own. She looked at it briefly. He was a web designer. Typical.
`Are you off work for the day?` she asked.
`Yes,` he said, sounding relieved.
`Would you like to go out for a drink?`
`Really? You want to go with me? Why? Don`t you have a cool foreign boyfriend or something?`
`No. I don`t have a boyfriend, a husband, or a lover. So will you go or not?` she glanced at her watch. `Hurry up and say yes or no. I`ve no time to stroke your feeble Japanese ego.`
She noticed him swallow. Could nearly hear the gears in his head turning rapidly, the thudding of his heart. `Yes. I`ll go.` he said.
`Ok. Let` s go` she said, pulling him out of his seat. Hastily she paid the bill and dragged him out of the coffee house.
Where are we going?` Osamu asked her, wondering why he had agreed to this crazy proposal.
`Karaoke box,` Sandra told him tersely.
`But I can`t sing,` he whined.
`Oh you don`t need to worry about THAT,` she grinned.
He nodded, perhaps not deriving much meaning from her words.
The rest of the way they walked in silence side by side. When they arrived at the karaoke box, the worker at the counter darted a quick look at the pair. She thought they were a goodlooking, if unusual couple. She addressed Osamu, wondering whether the attractive foreign woman could understand Japanese.
`How many hours?` the worker asked in a bored tone.
But Osamu wasn`t sure, so he darted a questioning look at Sandra.
`Just one hour is okay.` Sandra piped up brightly.
`Ok,` the worker said. `Soft drink bar is included in the price. We have a special alcohol nomihoudai course for just 1000yen`
`We`ll take it,` said Sandra.
`I can`t drink so much,` Osamu complained.
But Sandra ignored him, taking the basket that the counter girl handed her. It contained a food and drink menu and the standard portable plastic-wrapped microphones.
Their box was on the fourth floor so they had to use the elevator.
They entered the small room with its leather couch and gaudy wall-paper. In front of the couch was a large TV with the karaoke system situated beneath. Sandra grabbed the electronic device that you use to select a song and began browsing.
`Order some drinks` she commanded Osamu. `2 shouchus on the rocks.`
`Its too strong for me.`
`Are you a sissy?` she asked him sweetly.
`No.` he insisted and picked up the receiver to order the drinks. Despite himself he found himself ordering 2 shouchus on the rocks.
Sandra had chosen to sing some older American song that had a catchy swing tune. He liked her voice. It was rather deeper than most Japanese women and she had a mild vibrato. Osamu sipped his drink thoughtfully as he listened to her. The shouchu tasted terrible as he knew it would and it burned in his throat. He forced himself to drink it anyway and began to stare at Sandra`s big breasts as she sang. They were mesmerizing. He had never been so close to a woman with such large round breasts. He wanted to bury his head in them.
Suddenly a conflicting feeling arose. Why was he thinking such dirty things? Sandra probably was n`t interested in letting his hands touch those magnificent globes. Wasn`t interested in letting him lick her hard nipples. Yes...if you looked very closely you could see the outline of her nipples through that maddening shirt. Were they hard because it was a bit chilly in the room?
Mind dulled a bit by the strong alcohol he realized that her song had finished several moments ago. Her blue eyes locked with his.
`What are you looking at?` she purred, leaning forward slightly and raising a dark eyebrow.
He was stunned at her motion as it made her breasts all the more visible. Then she came even closer. He realized self-consciously that his pants were feeling a bit constricting in a very important area. She drew near to his face and he could smell something sweet and spicy. Maybe her shampoo or perfume. He couldn`t identify the scent but it suited her.
She was whispering in his ear, `Are you looking at my tits, Osamu?` After she uttered his name he felt the slight wetness of the tip of her tongue graze his earlobe. He shuddered with longing. He was a little afraid he would explode in his pants, thereby disgracing himself for life.
`N-No...I`m not looking at your tits` he lied lamely.
`Yes you were.` she said. `What a nasty boy you are. Well, now you are going to lick them until I tell you to stop.` And before he could react, she pulled her black knit shirt over her head and discarded it on the couch.
`Take off my bra,` she demanded, turning her back to him so he could find the clasp. He began to reach for it uncertainly with his trembling hands.
`Not like THAT!` she snapped, slapping his hand away. You will do it with your teeth.
`What?` he asked, surprised.
`Just do it, you little sissy boy!`
He sighed and lowered his head to the clasp. He tried to unfasten it. Failed. Tried again. Failed. Finally, on the third try he prevailed. For an extra flourish, he took the straps in his teeth and pulled them one by one off her white shoulders. Finally the bra fell away, baring the glorious tits to his eyes. He stared at them, marveled at the rosy color of her nipples. The color matched the slight blush of her face.
`You are so beautiful,` he breathed,hardly able to contain himself.
`Glad you like it,` she said dispassionately, pulling an elegant patterned handkerchief from her purse. To his surprise she folded it into a neat rectangle and tied it, blindfold style over his eyes.
`Now I want you to order us more drinks.`
`Shut up and do as I say. You are not to speak unless I tell you otherwise.`
`Meekly he moved to follow her command. He stumbled towards the phone, groped like a blindman along the wall. She grinned, enjoying seeing him stumbling around for her sake.
She was ONLY just beginning.
Osamu leapt to obey his harsh mistress. Somehow, he found the phone receiver after some awkward groping. "Two shochus, please" he said into the mouthpiece.
"Ok, right away" the voice on the other end replied with annoying perkiness. Before successfully hanging up, he dropped the receiver. It made a loud clatter. Ashamed, he picked it up and set it properly back in place.
"ahhh..." Osamu heard soft moans escaping Sandra's lips. His already hard dick stiffened to its maximum length. He wondered exactly what she was doing with her pretty white hands. One of his own hands began rubbing the throbbing shaft through his pants. In the space of darkness between his eyes and the handkerchief, he was entertaining some pretty vivid images of himself and Sandra in various explicit positions.
He heard the sound of her heeled feet approaching. She grabbed him by the slightly long hair at the nape of his neck. "Now don't go doing that" she growled. "You'll only get frustrated." She slapped his hand away with her free hand. Then he felt her fingers graze the belt of his pants, heard the jingling of the buckle as she freed him from his bondage. Fiercely, she yanked his crisp black pants down so that they pooled around his ankles. His legs were dark, well-toned, and nearly hairless. Angrily his cock pulsed and strained against his dark maroon underwear. From the waist up, he was still wearing his clean white collared shirt. Deciding she had to see more of his skin, she opened three buttons of his shirt, pausing to play with his luscious-looking little dark brown nipples as they were exposed. He moaned throatily as she did that. Crushing her tits against his chest, she felt how warm and soft his body was. She moaned at the decadent velvet texture of his skin. How deliciously helpless he looked with his clothing all askew and his beautiful blindfolded face and gasping lips! She bent her head to his long graceful neck and tasted of the little spot where his neck joined his shoulder. She used her tongue and her teeth. Of course, his pulse was racing and this added to the heat of her passion. After lavishing attention upon the exquisite neck, she longed for his mouth. Claiming him with fervor, her tongue found its way into his mouth. He made no attempt to resist her invasion and actually she found his tongue caressing hers quite willingly. At some point the blindfold fell off, wafting forgotten to the floor. She moaned with pleasure into his mouth. Her nipples were rock-hard against his chest while she could feel the soid pressure of his erection pressing against her. Meanwhile, his lips were as soft as his dick was hard. All of his wonderful textures were driving her wild!
However, Sandra and Osamu were so enjoying each other they had no idea that the door to the karaoke box had opened and their drinks had arrived. In the doorway was a boy was staring in shock at the amorous pair- until he tilted the the little round tray he held a bit too much and one of the shochus spilled all over the apron he wore.
Sandra reacted quickly, leaving temporarily horrified and forlorn Osamu standing there alone in his half open shirt, underwear, and pants around his ankles. Oh, and also his fat obvious erection. She grabbed the boy in the door by the waist, pulled him into the room, and shut the door, closing off the exit by leaning her weight against it. She was smiling wickedly. The poor waiter boy had hardly had time to register what was happening. Now suddenly he was being harassed by a half naked big-busted foreign woman. His manner was a bit more stoic than Osamu's though, and once the shock subsided, he did not seem to mind his current state so much. Registering that the new captive didn't seem likely to bolt, Sandra stepped away from the door and toward the waiter boy. She reached out and stroked his cheek affectionately. While Osamu's face had a mature more developed beauty, this boy was more "cute" His eyes were rather large, his face slightly feline. The boy studied her thoughtfully with his pretty black eyes and she noticed the lashes were long. After a few moments comprehension touched him and he smiled lazily and sexily, welcoming her to do as she like. He was quite tall for a Japanese boy- about 5'11, so she had to pull his head down to reach his lips. She kissed him, tenderly and almost chastely at first, allowing him the liberty to ease into her passion. As the excitement built between the two of them their tongues lashed furiously and his hands were groping her ass while her arms were thrown about his neck.
While on one hand Osamu was releived to be free on the other hand he also felt a little jealous. Sandra hadn't kissed HIM like that. But, jealousy or no, he found his cock was still rock solid and was now weeping a bit of precum. Almost of its own will he found his hand straying south. At first he rolled his balls a bit which made him moan then he stuck his hand under the waistband of his underwear and began stroking his thick shaft. After he pushed his jealousy onto the backburner he found watching Sandra with this other Japanese boy was very erotic. The clash of their different skintones, the way their very different faces joined together in these moments of rapture was a little bit surreal. His hand moved faster and he threw back his head and moaned more loudly.
Sandra stopped kissing the waiter boy. As delicious as raping his mouth was, she had other plans for her two pets. She backed away from the boy. "Sit down there!" she commanded him rapidly. Darting a sharp look at Osamu, Sandra said " You sit next to him." Osamu gulped, but did as he was told because he so desperately wanted Sandra's pussy. "Lick him clean!" Sandra told him, indicating the waiter's apron that was still sopping with shochu. The strong odor filled his nostrils. Osamu stared at her for a moment until she confirmed his fears.
"If you want to play with me later, first you must play with each other!"