We Always Do It For Real 19 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 01: WE ALWAYS DO IT FOR REAL BY MEGUMI KATO AND BOB WILLIAMS PART 19 CHAPTER XIV Mr Otani Mr Nagao's secretary had gone to her own lunch when I arrived at his suite, and as I hesitated at the half-open door to his main office, a little shy in my beautiful but provocative dress, I could see three men there with glasses in their hands. One was Mr Nagao himself and another, I could see, was Mr Niijima. The third, with his back to me, was a tall man speaking to Mr Nagao in rapid Japanese with a slight American accent. He saw that he had lost Mr Nagao's attention and turned; as I entered I had my first glimpse of the handsomest and most exciting man I had ever seen. Our eyes met for a moment, and as I modestly lowered mine I knew that I wanted this man more than anything or anyone in the world. Mr Otani naturally assumed that I was an employee of Marucho and congratulated Mr Nagao on adding new talent to his company. He seemed surprised, and a little put out, to be told that I was there only to take a screen-test, but said politely to me that I must surely have passed. Listening modestly to their talk, I concluded that Mr Otani must be half American. That would explain his height, his accent and his international, easy manner. I picked up the clue from Mr Niijima's attitude. As I think I have mentioned, Mr Niijima doesn't like foreigners, and he despises the kind of Japanese girl (me, for example) who goes with foreigners. So it is only natural that he dislikes above all the result of Japanese girls going with foreigners. In fact, of course, it was obvious from Mr Otani's Japanese surname that it was his father who must have been the Japanese, which ought logically to have pleased Mr Niijima as a demonstration of the superiority of the Japanese male and his ability to have it off with American women. But Mr Niijima's prejudice was not open to logic: he would undoubtedly refer to Mr Otani by the derogatory term _haafu_ - derived from the American "half-breed". The four of us sat down to lunch at Mr Nagao's conference table: Mr Otani and I on one side, Mr Nagao and Mr Niijima on the other. The meal was catered by one of the restaurants down the street, which I learnt later did a lot of work for the studio. I have no idea what we ate, or even if I ate anything. What I do remember is how Mr Otani, quite casually, put his hand on my bare thigh under the table. I wanted - oh, _how_ I wanted! - to put my slender fingers on his big, strong hand and guide it slowly but inevitably up my thigh, then under the few millimetres of my skirt, and let it discover my exciting nakedness. But I didn't dare to: I was so desperate to attract him, and so worried that he might lose interest if he realised how desperate I was, that I did nothing more than smile shyly at him when he glanced down at me, and open my legs a little so as to be ready for him if he wanted me. Soon he withdrew his hand and concentrated on his food; but then I felt it stroking me again - and now it _did_ slide higher and higher till his fingers were delicately tickling the fold at the very top of my thigh, sending shivers of excitement through my body as my pussy dripped and panted with frustrated desire for his touch. I completely forgot Matsumoto-san's advice on how to let him steal glimpses of my breasts and, blushing like a virgin school-girl, kept avoiding his glance whenever he looked in my direction. "Otani-san, Niijima-kun and I would like to discuss privately some of the points you have raised," said Mr Nagao. "If you don't mind, perhaps Kato-san could show you round the garden for a few minutes?" "I should be delighted," he said as we both rose from the table. We were in each other's arms before the door to the inner room had quite closed behind us. For a moment our tongues fought each other for precedence, then I gave way to the exciting feeling of his in my mouth and the taste of the wine he had drunk at lunch. After long moments we broke the kiss, then came together again as he allowed me, standing on tiptoe to reach despite the height of my heels, to caress the inside of his mouth. We pulled apart again and he turned me in his arms so that I could lean back against him. I raised my arms above my head, careless now that the gesture would pull my skirt immodestly up my hips, and caressed the back of his head. I felt his hands briefly stroke my body through the thin, crackling cloth of my dress, then wander tantalisingly down the bare skin revealed by the low V-neck. When they at last reached my waist, they slowly pulled apart the snaps holding my minute skirt together. My dress was now fully open, and I pulled away from him just long enough to toss it back over my shoulders and let it whisper to the floor. His hands found my firm young breasts, caressing them, stroking them, pinching them, his fingers agonisingly teasing my nipples into even greater yearning. "I've wanted to do this ever since I saw you standing in the doorway," he said softly. "I've been wanting it too," I moaned as I let my head fall back onto his shoulder, "oh, _so_ much!" After long minutes, his hands began to move down my naked body on their way to explore my gasping, soaking cunt. I turned round in his arms again, kissed him briefly on the lips, and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. After it had joined my dress on the floor, I undid the buckle of his belt and pushed his trousers and underpants down, falling to my knees before him as I did so. I took his long erection in one hand, and with the other weighed his beautiful balls, full of creamy, salty cum that would soon be mine, prickling and scratching them delicately with the tips of my fingernails. I licked the head of his wonderful cock, just a friendly kiss before drawing its lovely length fully into my mouth. He groaned with desire, then bent down, took me by the elbows and pulled me to my feet. "Not yet," he said, "let's take it slowly." Playing the innocent coquette - or was my coquetry innocent? This man had the power to make me forget all previous sexual experience, and I was trembling with excitement like a virgin on her first serious date - I said, "Mr Nagao said I was to show you round the garden." Mr Otani stepped out of his trousers, abandoning at the same time socks and shoes. I pulled back the sliding door and, nude together, we entered hand-in-hand the warm spring sunshine of our own private Garden of Eden. We kissed as we stood beside the pond, and then I again knelt in worship before him. This time he made no objection when I slid the glorious length of his erection slowly into my mouth. As his lust grew more intense he swayed from side to side, barely able to maintain his upright position. His hands began to press my head into his groin, so that instead of my sucking him, he was fucking my face. I suppressed the gag reaction as the head of his cock hit the back of my mouth, and pulled him slowly into my throat. I held him like that for a long moment, then gradually moved my head back and forth, working against the pressure of his hands and now letting my throat gag on his intrusion, the tight spasms stimulating him, I hoped, as much as the flickering stroking of my tongue along his shaft. Again I began to wonder if he would fall forward onto me in his passion. At last, with shouts of joy, he released his spurting, hot cum deep into my throat. I carefully sucked him empty and licked him clean, relishing and trying to memorise the taste[9] before releasing him. I was still only partly satisfied but knew that we had just begun. Mr Otani pulled the cushions off a couple of the loungers and laid me on my back beside the pool, the light breeze occasionally flicking drops of spray from the fountain onto my quivering naked body. For a while he lay beside me, holding me and thanking me for the pleasure I had given him. Then I felt him draw away from me and kneel between my legs. His strong hands lifted my buttocks till my cunt was conveniently placed for his mouth. My poor frustrated pussy was soaking and, as his tongue and lips luxuriated in its juices, began to spasm further as if determined to show him that, however hard he tried, he could never suck me dry. His tongue hardened to a point and entered my cunt like the tip of a cock. I moaned in ecstasy and pressed my hips harder against his mouth, desperate to pull his tongue deep inside me. He lifted my bottom even higher; withdrawing his tongue from my eager and still frustrated cunt he slid the point down my crack and began to probe delicately into my little virgin anus. Despite my efforts to make it behave sensibly, it shrank shyly from his attempts to please it and skittishly refused to open for his tongue. He looked up. "What's this? Don't you like it?" "I'm sorry," I wept from the cushions, "I can't help it." "Are you still a virgin there?" "Yes," I admitted, ashamed at my inexperience. "Oh, my lovely darling," I heard him say, "I never thought I might be the first ... Shall I ... Would you like me to ...?" "Oh yes, please," I begged, "teach me. But be gentle with me." "I love you," he said, as he turned me over, pushing my knees up a little to raise my rump to a convenient height. I wondered briefly if the blank windows of the studio building above, and of the taller office block which filled the fourth side of the square, were lined with excited watchers - or was this scene so familiar that they no longer bothered? For a while he lay between my legs, exquisitely teasing my pussy and arsehole with his tongue while his hands held me steady by the upper thighs and would not allow my sensitive anus to twist modestly away from the delicate kisses of its lover, its master, the owner of the ferocious male organ which in a moment would ravish it, rape it, break violently through its poor little defences ... my intestines began to melt with excitement in expectation of what was about to be done to me. I felt him scramble up onto his knees. His cock, firm and erect again, began to press against my wet pussy. "First, here," he said, as with a single long thrust he entered my cunt, then after a moment's pause began to fuck me vigorously. I screamed with excitement; he brought me close to climax without quite pushing me over the point of no return, then pulled out his cock - now dripping with my cunt juices. As I whimpered with frustration he moved it higher, and at last I felt its urgent pressure against my other hole. "Just relax," he murmured, "gently ... gently ..." For a moment I was able to do what he said. His relentless cock seized that moment, and its head was inside my arse. My shy anus at once foolishly contracted behind the head - foolishly because the pressure of its muscular ring must have given him more sexual stimulus, and more determination to continue, than anything else could have done. He paused for a moment to see if the little virgin would see sense; then I felt him move relentlessly forward, millimetre by millimetre. A great shining sword was being forced into my very being, bringing with it as it moved huge waves of excruciatingly wonderful pain which pulsed through my body, followed by indescribable feelings of warmth and comfort whenever the forward movement paused. The feeling of fullness was beyond anything I had ever experienced or imagined. As it advanced I felt as if my body was about to burst apart. "Am I hurting you?" he asked during one of the pauses. "Oh _yes_," I breathed, "it's wonderful, oh hurt me more my darling." Slowly the flaming glory advanced: the whole universe had shrunk to this exquisite process of tearing open my poor body. "Nearly there," a voice said from somewhere. "Do you want to rest a while?" For answer I snuggled my hips hard against his crotch, seizing the last of him into my ravished anus. I was nearly at my climax now, as the wonderful pain thrust itself still further into me. "Oh! I wish there were more!" I cried. "So do I, darling, so do I." For long minutes we lay gasping, locked together. Then I felt him begin to pull gradually away. "Don't leave me!" I begged. I screamed as with a hard thrust he plunged into me again. To and fro, remorselessly, slowly, he fucked my tightly stretched hole, the spasms of pain and pleasure setting off fires all over me - but nowhere more than in my cunt. I was perilously close to climax now. Suddenly, when he was buried most deeply inside me, I felt even more tightly stuffed: I know now that I was feeling the irresistible flow of his cum spouting hotly from his balls along the line of his cock. The extra sensation span me hopelessly out of control into a glorious, shrieking orgasm as my intestines filled to overflowing with his fuck. We clung together, not wanting to be cast out of Heaven and back to reality. At last his cock began to shrink, and slowly slipped out of me. I gradually turned onto my back and smiled up at my glorious lover. "Thank you," I whispered, "thank you for making me truly a woman at last." Slowly we stood up, and slowly we walked back into Mr Nagao's inner study. I did not want to break the spell and leave our little Garden of Eden, and maybe he didn't either. "Was I really all right?" I asked him shyly. "You were lovely," Mr Otani replied. "Thank you," I said, "and thank you for teaching me, and being gentle with me. I shall never forget that it was you who taught me." He laughed. "I tried to be gentle with you, but you were so eager ..." FOOTNOTE [9] Every man tastes a little different - at least, that's my theory! One of my favourite party games is to be blindfolded and then take a series of my most frequent lovers in my mouth and try to guess from their taste who they are. Of course, if I get it wrong that just shows I need more practice ... [Next in Part 20: Chapter XIV continued and Chapter XV: Under Contract] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams