Literotic asexstories – Surreptitious Love Ch. 172 by BenGarland
Chapter 172 – Mister Nakamura (1)
‘Ben, would you fancy lunch with Mister Nakamura on Thursday?’ my long-term affair and muse Nguyet had written yesterday morning. Of course, I was always keen on seeing her, and when I inquired who the man actually was, she replied that I could meet one of the head honchos of an international real-estate conglomerate that was keen on entering the Vietnamese market for second- and third-tier cities, like ours. Mister Nakamura would continue his trip up north on Thursday late afternoon or evening, Nguyet told me further, and after the lunch with him ‘you and I can go to the empty hotel’, she added; with a smiley at the end of the sentence.
Of course, I instantly knew what she meant. What made her proposal particularly enthralling was that I immediately envisioned her in a snazzy dress or business outfit with stockings, or even tights and a garter-belt, as she was wont to wear on such occasions. Naturally, I asked her why Mister Nakamura was so keen on meeting me – as I wasn’t even working in real-estate – to which she replied laconically that he may just want a seasoned man of his generation at the table who he could have a deep conversation with, perhaps about politics or history. Later that day, Nguyet admitted though that she also preferred me to be there, as Mister Nakamura – as fascinating as he was – also had something quite intimidating about him.
And so, I shaved on Thursday morning, put on my best pair of dress pants, and clipped my fingernails. I decided to do without a tie, since it would be close to 100 degrees again, as always in June, here in Central Vietnam. Our small provincial town was pretty informal, anyway, although Mister Nakamura would probably show up as neat as a pin. Oh well, I wasn’t going to a job interview; neither was he my boss. All he wanted was to have a stimulating conversation partner and, for me, the hour afterwards with my muse Nguyet, who had picked one of the fanciest restaurants in town, was indefinitely more important.
As I was waiting for the two of them, I smoked a ciggy, of course, and then watched how they got out of his big, fancy white Lexus. Nguyet was wearing a black strapless dress that would have exposed her slim light shoulders nicely, hadn’t it been for the fact that she was also sporting a light cardigan. Her dress was rather short, emphasizing her slightly athletic legs with that awesome dividing line between the front and back muscles of her thighs, even though she was also wearing light pantyhose. Oh, man, did she look hot on this hot day! At least, Mister Nakamura wasn’t wearing suit, either, but just nice dark dress pants, a light-blue shirt and a reddish-and-grey tie. Oh yes, he made quite an impression with his parted, slightly greying hair, even though he was a tad younger and shorter than myself.
We looked each other in the eye, as we were being introduced. Now shaking hands, he radiated warmth but also had a commanding presence. He was in his late forties or early fifties, athletic and trim, and weighed at least 50 pounds less than me. When Nguyet smiled at me a tad nervously, I took her hand, as there was no reason to hide the fact that we were lovers. Mister Nakamura nodded approvingly and kindly and, for some reason, I was glad again that I was living in Asia. Since he was walking a step ahead of us, I marveled at his dignified gait, like he owned the place. Oh yeah, he seemed super-fit and probably knew several kinds of martial arts. He was no one to be trifled with. He now pointed at one table where he, obviously, wanted us to take our seats; like he was used to having things his way.
Which was fine with me. I would probably never see him again and wasn’t overly concerned about pecking orders, rivalry, or hierarchies. I didn’t need to prove myself but would just make sure he was having a great time here over lunch. After we sat down, Nguyet seemed to ease up a bit, and I concluded that Nakamura wasn’t naturally bossy or overbearing. He shot me an almost affectionate and definitely benign smile, before he even flirted a bit with the young waitress who had brought us the menu. When she was gone again, he looked around the spacious outside area and told Nguyet that she had chosen well. We ordered six beers, but after he had looked at the menu for a minute, he placed it on the table and turned it towards Nguyet, who then translated a few things. In the end, we ordered fish and crabs, rice and vegetables, and then clinked our glasses.
Nguyet, who was sitting next to me, still seemed slightly edgy, but perhaps that was normal. She would have to work with him in the future, with him being the superior, of course. Mister Nakamura opened the conversation by telling me that he had been to Germany once, after the Berlin Wall had come down, in the early 1990s, and so we talked about Leipzig, the Gewandhaus, its famous conductor Kurt Masur – who had a Japanese wife and been instrumental in organizing the peaceful protests against the East German government in the fall of 1989. Eventually, we moved on to Goethe and Schiller, which Mister Nakamura had read in high school or at university.
When Nguyet left us to go to the restroom, her leaned forward across the table and told me how gorgeous he found her. ‘You’ve chosen your lover well’ he added with a twinkle in his eye and pursed lips. I wasn’t sure what to reply, and so I just shared how Nguyet and I had met at work and how our affair had begun. Luckily, Nguyet arrived back right at that moment, as I wasn’t sure how much she would want me to go into the details. Since she was here again, we changed the topic, and Mister Nakamura briefly told us about his Korean wife and the years they had spent in her homeland. And now the appetizers were arriving.
“Now, that’s perhaps a cliché, but the Japanese and Koreans don’t really get along, do they?” Nguyet chimed in, finally joining our conversation.
“Well, my wife and I do, of course… but, yes, overall, you’re right. Both countries aren’t exactly friends… you know, the past… with all the wars…”
“So, when you were in Korea, you didn’t feel really welcome, and when your wife joined you in Japan, it was the same for her?” I inquired, sincerely curious.
He thought about a diplomatic answer, perhaps: “Well, it was easier for me in Korea… I had a lot of Japanese colleagues… and I worked a lot, anyway…” he smiled.
My left hand was on Nguyet’s right thigh and knee under the table. I had no indication that she didn’t like it, but she was listening to Mister Nakamura very intently, as he was now talking about his apparently fairly long trip to Germany again. He seemed rather smitten with Nguyet – the way he kept glancing at her – and I wanted to ask her how serious things were between the two of them, as she loved everything Japanese anyway: clothes, music, the Mangas, and the language. At her house, she had quite a collection of Japanese vintage fans, although they could have been produced in Vietnam as well. I knew that she had never actually been to the country.
Once, we had even had arranged a Japanese lunch at her house, together with her mother, who was a staunch voyeur. At the beginning, five years ago, she had allowed us to continue our affair at their house, for which Nguyet and I had been grateful, until we learned that she mostly had done it, so that she could spy on us. Which neither of us had anything against, in the end; We secretly got a kick out of it as well. During said lunch, I had eaten off Nguyet’s trim naked body, enjoyed sashimi doused in her pussy nectar, and eventually the three of us had fucked. For which they had asked me to lie down on the bed, then blindfolded me to make me guess whose snatch was working on my cock. They had even taped the whole session, but I had never watched it. I needed to ask Nguyet if she still had the video on her computer.
“But now you’re living in Japan again?” I asked Mister Nakamura as he hadn’t made that clear.
“Yes, but my wife’s back in Korea… to take care of her ailing mother…” he replied after he had carefully thought about his answer.
Like there was another, different reason for his wife’s absence, but he wasn’t sure whether to divulge it. Of course, the food had arrived in the meantime and everything was divine. Nguyet had just put a white piece of lobster flesh, which reminded me of her thigh, in my bowl. Naturally, she had taken off her cardigan by now, as we were sitting in the shade, so that we could admire her slim shoulders and delicate collarbones. I was wondering if she was even wearing a bra, since I didn’t think she owned a strapless harness. Perhaps, the dress had a bra built in, so to speak.
So, Mister Nakamura was a grass widower. Well, couldn’t he join us at the old hotel later?! Or was he really in a hurry to proceed north? Or had the two of them enjoyed their first intercourse already during the previous three days? Which would be easy to arrange in one of the empty properties or at a hotel during lunch. Looking at the two of them like two tennis players, I couldn’t detect any level of intimacy, though. But yeah, there was definitely something about him. Could I somehow ask Nguyet what she thought of my hotel idea? I drew a ‘3’ on her thigh with my fingertip, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Well, perhaps he would visit the restroom at some point. The more I watched the guy, though, the more I understood Nguyet’s infatuation with him. Definitely. He probably practiced martial arts every morning before dawn, and he also had style. His tie, for instance, was rather simple yet elegant. He probably also practiced sex with finesse. Like his cock was a Samurai sword. Or a foil. Did he have any fetishes, too? Did he like being peed on during sex, for instance?! But if, was he more the slobbering guy, or would he revel in the gushing fountain and let Nguyet douse his chest?
I imagined the three of us at the empty hotel now: what about anal? Was that his thing? Or was he more like an ethically, morally upright guy who wouldn’t cheat on his wife; especially now, that she was taking care of her elderly mother. Well, earlier he had spoken of her in fairly neutral tones. Knowing him a bit now, however, I surmised that he already had paid Nguyet a few compliments earlier this week; similar to the one earlier in my presence, when she had been to the bathroom; half-an-hour ago.
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