(This is a new, expanded version of the second chapter; the original was published here in November. It has not changed as far as storyline goes, but I have expanded it considerably. I was advised that parts of the story weren't dirty enough, which was a fair observation.)
Chapter Two: Shinichi
He looked at his watch. Shinichi’s station was just over two hours away, but he was determined to not fall victim to karoshi, death from overwork. He decided to have a drink in the salon car. He turned off his laptop, gathered up his overcoat and briefcase, and made his way through the narrow corridor past the sleeper cars. Since the tourist season was over and it was mid-week, all but one of the sleepers were unoccupied.
When he arrived at the salon car, Shinichi could not believe his luck.
At first he found it hard to believe that the lone foreigner at the last table was the same one he'd first seen over a month ago. She was dressed in a knee-length skirt and silk blouse, with her dark red hair loose around her shoulders. But she looked up at him, and her clear green eyes confirmed her identity. She half-rose, nodded politely and sat down, tucking her pleated skirt under her thighs carefully. He sat down at the next table, slowly exhaled. Forgetting all sense of decorum, he watched her slowly turn the pages of her newspaper.
Shinichi had first seen the redhaired gaijin several weeks ago at a cocktail party in Osaka. The party had been held in the luxury hotel next to his office building.
His banker friend, Hitoshi Miyahara, had invited him earlier in the day after meeting him in the elevator. They were discussing the building’s rent increases, plotting how they might minimize their own, when Shinichi first spotted the foreigner.
He had watched her from across the room as she politely bowed when introduced, presenting her business card in exchange for others’ cards. She had been careful to dress conservatively in a dark blue skirt suit and white blouse. It was soon obvious that although she was young, she was remarkably well versed in local etiquette. She never made foreigners' mistakes like laughing loudly or insisting on shaking hands.
As he studied her, he realized that she wasn’t a conventional beauty at all. She was fashionably thin but unfashionably pale. Her delicate mouth was not quite even; the lower lip fuller than the upper one. She had only partially succeeded in arranging her thick auburn hair in a loose French twist. But it didn’t matter, didn’t matter to him at all. He began wondering how he might be introduced.
Suddenly she looked directly at him from across the room, as if she had literally felt his gaze upon her. Her clear green eyes studied him for several seconds before she returned to her conversation.
Now Shinichi was determined to meet her. He began to think how he could ask Hitoshi to introduce him, as he was sure she worked for his company. Simply walking up to her would be considered rude. But then a colleague of Hitoshi's joined them, and it took Shinichi several minutes to escape.
Still trying to think of a businesslike lie that would result in an introduction, he looked up, searching for her in the crowd. She was gone.
Shinichi excused himself, walked quickly to the front door, looked around the hotel’s plaza, searching the crowds of rush hour pedestrians. There was no sign of the foreigner. He stared at the pavement, angry at himself for missing the opportunity.
The next day he found himself at his drafting board, unable to concentrate on work. Instead he kept staring out of the window at the sidewalk below, half-hoping he would spot her among the pedestrians. Finally he closed the blinds.
During the next weeks, Shinichi kept telling himself that his attraction for the woman was nothing more than curiosity. He had never felt a particular desire for a foreigner. But he continued to think of strategies to find her while working at his drafting board or sitting in meetings.
Chapter Three: After Hours
When working late, Shinichi sometimes found himself fantasizing about seducing the young gaijin in the private domain of his office.
In his favorite scenario, she would visit his office after receiving a forged note from Hitoshi (the real author being the cunning Shinichi) asking her to visit him after work Friday to offer her professional assistance.
He imagined her taking a seat in front of his oak desk, an oversized antique he had brought from England. She was wearing a suit with a shorter skirt than she’d worn at the cocktail party, expensive hosiery that showed off her legs, black Dior heels.
“May I ask what I can do for you?” she asked, obviously wondering why an architect would consult a financial researcher. “I’m afraid Mr. Miyahara didn’t go into details.”
“I’m not 100% sure,” Shinichi said, leaning back in his leather chair, enjoying his first inspection of his prey up close. She was smaller, prettier, with a shy demeanor that suggested she hadn’t much experience with men.
“Hitoshi thinks you might be able to help me set up a better billing system.”
“It’s not my specialty, but I can take a look.”
There was a knock on Shinichi’s office door. His office manager said that she was the last to leave, so she would lock the front door behind her.
The foreigner realized that they were alone. She looked at Shinichi, only to realize that he was looking at her at a rather un-businesslike manner. She buttoned up her jacket. Shinichi pulled up his billing system software on his laptop and offered his chair to his visitor.
“Here. Sit down and take a look at what we’re running. Maybe you’ll see some ways we can improve the monthly reports.”
She moved behind his desk and sat down, dwarfed by his large leather executive’s chair. Shinichi stood behind her, watching as she scrolled through the entries and eventually began making notes. He realized she was wearing his favorite perfume.
He leaned over the back of the chair to watch her. “You smell delightful,” he said. “Is that Miss Dior?” She nodded but said nothing.
After looking through the billing reports, she said that the client breakdowns could be more detailed, but that the overall system seemed more than adequate.
She rose to go, only to have Shinichi gently push her back down in the chair. She looked up, confused. Was he simply being polite? If so, it was in a most un-Japanese way.
“Hitoshi mentioned you’ve been putting in a lot of hours. Please join me in a drink. It’s Friday, you know. Hopefully you’re not having to work tomorrow.”
She hesitated. “I’ll have a very small whatever you’re having.”
He poured two single malts, hers only slightly smaller than his, as he read through her notes. She tasted her drink, approved, took a slow sip.
“Thank you so much for coming by. I can see why Hitoshi suggested your taking a look at the system.”
“You’re welcome, sir,” she said. He was amused by her formality.
“You must let me return the favor somehow. You’re looking quite stressed.”
He reached down from behind the chair and began to massage her shoulders, inwardly celebrating that he was finally touching her, even through layers of clothing. At first she froze, but she eventually leaned back in the chair, eyes closed. She had beautiful long eyelashes. Suddenly he stopped.
“Thank you for the massage. It was very kind of you,” she whispered.
She stood to go, but he stepped in front of her.
“Take off your jacket, please,” he said, politely but firmly.
Her eyes widened. She tried to think of a polite way to reject his request, but was stymied by the situation. How could she question her employer’s best friend? She put her almost-finished drink on the desk, slowly pulled off her jacket, laid it on top of her briefcase.
Shinichi suddenly picked her up and sat her on his desk. She held on to the desk’s edge facing him, her expression a mixture of surprise and alarm. She then tried to pull her skirt down with little success.
He tilted her face upwards towards his own, one hand under her chin. “You’re one of the most enticing young women I’ve ever had the privilege to meet.”
She blushed pink, said nothing.
“I would have never thought Hitoshi to be a matchmaker,” he lied. “He mentioned to me just last week that he thought we might - well - get along.”
Although she was beginning to realize her initial doubts about the meeting were justified, she was at a loss as to what to do, especially as she found Shinichi rather attractive.
He reached down and unbuttoned the two top buttons of her shirt. Her pale skin felt wonderfully smooth under his rough fingers. He could feel the pulse in her neck beating as quickly as a bird’s. Holding her by the hair, he kissed her gently until he felt her begin to respond.
It was the signal he’d been waiting for. He was through with talking. He eased her down on her back, moving quickly so she wouldn’t have time to resist. She lay still, wide-eyed and confused, a little dizzy from the scotch.
The sight of the redhaired young woman lying across his desk, ready to be sacrificed to his desires, was all the encouragement he needed. Standing in front of her, he pushed her knees apart and positioned himself between them. Realizing she was trapped, she closed her eyes, heart racing.
He slid his hands slowly up her thighs, pushing her skirt up inch by inch. He was pleased to discover that her stockings were held up by wide lace bands. Eventually he felt the warmth of her soft inner thighs, then the thin layer of silk covering her nether regions. He realized she was trembling.
He gently touched her through the silk panties, hearing her sharp intake of breath. He began to pull them down. But then he stopped, took a pair of scissors and carefully cut them off instead.
As he slowly ran one finger over and then inside her, he felt as if he’d won a coveted prize. Her delicate pubic hair was baby-soft, only slightly darker than the auburn hair that had first caught his eye. Her silky wetness had a just-washed smell, but with enough of the familiar scent.
He began rubbing her tiny pink clit with rough fingers, watching her react. Soon she was no longer the reserved young woman of an hour ago. Instead, she was turning into a delectable, cock-hungry bitch in heat, arching her back on his desk, hair disheveled.
He took his hand away and leaned over her, his face above hers. She looked up at him, breathing in shallow gasps, her eyes dilated.
“Do you want me to continue?”
She nodded.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
She only hesitated a second. “Yes,” she stammered.
“Will you do anything I ask?” he said.
“Y-y-y-es. As long as I know how.”
He softened, touched her cheek. “Don’t worry about that, dear.”
He helped her off the desk. She stood wavering in front of him, slightly drunk with clothes askew, a far cry from the proper young executive of an hour ago.
“On your knees, please.”
She slowly sank to the floor in front of him as he sat down.
“Do you know what to do?”
“I think I know what you want …”. She left the sentence unfinished.
“What do you think I want?” he whispered.
She reached over, fumbled with his trousers and finally freed his cock, which was already begging for her attention. Her touch was wonderfully gentle and unhurried as she worked him into her mouth inch by inch. Shinichi leaned back in the chair as she alternately tongued and sucked him, sometimes sliding his length into her throat for a tantalizing few seconds. Now he was the near-helpless one, he thought. If she was a novice cocksucker, she was an extremely fast learner.
Although he was tempted to let her continue, the thought of fucking her on his desk gradually won out as the greater temptation. He reluctantly pulled out of her mouth and returned her to the desk.
Holding her legs wide open, he teased her for a long minute, rubbing himself against her as she squirmed helplessly. He heard her whimper as he finally began to penetrate. Watching her expression change with every inch of cock, listening to her quickened breathing was every bit as erotic as feeling her slick wetness close around him.
He began pumping inside her slowly, increasing his pace until he realized the force of his body was pushing her across the desk and away from him. She hadn’t been able to hold on to the desk’s edge any longer.
“Wrap your legs around my waist, quickly,” he whispered.
Leaning over, he put her arms around his neck, then lifted her from the desk. She was even lighter than he had imagined. He sat down in the chair, moving her legs apart so her knees were on either side of him. She fit perfectly.
Holding her by the hips, he began forcing her down the length of his cock. He unhooked her bra, sucking her already-erect nipples, her green eyes looking into his own. She leaned over and kissed him deeply as she rode him.
Shinichi felt his cock harden even more, suddenly unable to control his need. He shoved himself deep inside her as he came, his eyes closed, fingers digging into her slender hips.
Shinichi’s only problem with his fantasies about the foreigner is that he could never see himself ending the rendezvous, even though he didn’t even know her name. It made him feel more foolish than ever.
***************
After weeks of fantasizing, Shinichi decided to call Hitoshi's company and ask for the foreigner, thinking he could bluff his way through any interrogation. But a new receptionist politely told him there were no foreigners currently employed in the Osaka office. He put the phone down slowly, feeling despondent.
The only option left was to ask Hitoshi about her. While he knew Hitoshi would not condemn him - after all, he would certainly have been instrumental in hiring a foreigner - he would realize that Shinichi's interest in her was not professional. So he kept postponing his enquiry, not wishing to embarrass his friend.
He need not have worried. Three weeks later, he entered the salon car of the Twilight Express and found her there, almost as if she had been patiently waiting for his arrival.
Friday, January 12, 2007 at 3:39PM