Makiko Tsujimura stepped out of the cramped building which housed her even more cramped apartment in the perpetually cramped city of Tokyo, and was almost literally knocked down by the blast of humidity which awaited her outside. Summer in Japan was never a pleasant affair, not so much because of the temperatures, but because of the choking humidity that the moist climate brought down upon the populace. Having resided in Tokyo most of her life, Makiko was mostly used to the heat and humidity by now, but it was always still a momentary unpleasant shock as she stepped out of her building each day. Rick Hunter stepped out his hotel, and received much the same shock. For him, it was even worse, for he was not been in Japan for long, and was not used to anything of this sort. He felt his navy blue business suit seeming to stick to his shirt, which seemed to stick to him, a product of the vile humidity. Crippling heat, crushing humidity, strange language, weird food, sometimes-- no, most of the time-- Rick just wanted to go home. Still, he was over here, sent to close a deal with the Tanaka Denki Kabushiki Gaisha. That, he remembered from the tapes he had been listening to non-stop for months before this trip-- the same ones that seemed to have done him no good at all-- meant "Tanaka Electric Corporation." For all of the ills of the Japanese economy, they could still make great electronics, and cheap, too, and that was why he was here, to close a deal by which his company, Pacific Chemical, could acquire, at about half the market price, a great many CD-ROM drives, DVD-ROM drives, streaming tape drives, hard drives, and every other kind of information storage device. Still, he wondered, if Tanaka had enough money to burn that it could sell its products at these rock-bottom prices, why didn't they have enough money to pay the airfare for one of their guys to come to the United States? He lamented this apparent contradiction often, almost every time some aspect of Japanese life disagreed with him, in fact. Though they took separate trains, both Makiko and Rick ended up in Shinjuku, the heart of commerce, bureaucracy, and vice in Tokyo. Sometimes mispronounced as "sinjuku" by those not familiar with peculiar Japanese spelling customs, the appellation may actually be ironically fitting given the number of houses of ill repute to be found in the seedy alleys and the dark corners of this most colorful section of Japan's largest city. Of course, at this time, early morning, they had all long since shut their doors, as the respectable white-collar world of the Japanese businessman took precedence over the seedy underside of the city. Rick and Makiko both approached the glittering skyscraper that housed the Tanaka Corporation, a remarkable structure standing alone, but really nothing special given how many others just like it thrust up into the Shinjuku skyline. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment as they entered the building, but as they had vastly different destinations-- Rick, the boardroom, for yet another meeting, and Makiko, one of seemingly thousands of nondescript offices, where she spent the day typing, making phone calls, sending faxes, and basically all of the other grunt work given to her by her boss, Hiroshi Nakamura. Makiko had no real issues with her boss. He was, in truth, little more than an oversexed dirty old man who was drinking and smoking himself to death. However, Japanese corporations were full of men just like him. He was, and his boss, and his boss' boss, and probably so on all the way up to the president of the company, Fujimoto-Shachou as he was known to the rank and file. He was probably an oversexed dirty old man who was drinking and smoking himself to death, too. It seemed like the younger men couldn't wait to become like their superiors either. Makiko could not understand why, of course. But, their conduct at any company function proved it, they were out to become corrupted chain-smoking lecherous drunkards, just like their superiors. So different was the white man she had seen walking into the building. She assumed he was an American, most of the whites she saw in Japan were Americans. She wondered if American corporations were as polluted in their upper ranks as those of Japan. She didn't think so, at least, based on what they showed on television, the Americans didn't look quite as perverted. She was sure there were perverted Americans somewhere, there are perverts of every nationality, but it seemed like they weren't all in the upper ranks of the corporate world. Maybe perverts were the real reason Japan's bubble economy burst, Makiko mused. Rick spent the day in meetings, it seemed to him that the Japanese had an obsession with meetings. It was almost as though they had meetings to plan the agendas for their meetings. Even more frustrating to him was the fact that it seemed like everything had already been decided beforehand. Needless to say, he was glad when the day finally ended, and he was able to depart from the Tanaka Corporation's headquarters, a place that, by now, was seeming very much like a prison. Makiko, of course, did not have to deal with meetings, one of the saving graces of her low position in the corporate hierarchy, perhaps. She spent the day peacefully at her desk, doing whatever it was that was sent her way, and never complained. Still, one feeling that she had in common with Rick was her happiness that the day was over. Another benefit of her low position was that she always got go home on time, rather than the late hours that it seemed the higher-ups were always working. Occasionally they kept her later, but such things were, thankfully, a rarity. Today, she felt exceptionally lucky, because it seemed like almost everyone was being kept late. She guessed that if she stayed too much longer, someone would catch up to her and ask her to stay too, and she couldn't very well refuse at that point. Thus, she thought the best course of action was to just leave the company as quickly as possible. She quickly shut off her computer, walking briskly away from her desk and towards the elevator. She looked down, fearing that if she made eye contact, someone would try to talk to her. She saw her simple white blouse and black skirt, her fairly nondescript pantyhose, and her heels clicking on the floor. She paid the most attention to her feet, noticing them clicking along, one in front of the other, walking briskly towards the elevator. When she arrived, she pressed the button, and with a beep, it opened. Makiko slipped inside with a sigh of relief. Rick had been riding down from the top floor, glad that the meeting was over. The other people in the meeting now went back to work, they were likely going to stay rather late, but Rick was relieved that he had no part in that. No, he could just get out of here as quickly as possible. He was not really paying attention to his surroundings, but when Makiko entered the elevator, he could not help but look her over. There were so many things wrong with life in Japan, Rick thought, but if there was one thing right, it was Japanese women. He did not recall ever seeing quite so many lovely women in one place, and in this elevator, he seemed to have stumbled across another. "Kaeru no ga ii desu ne." It's good to go home. The words spoken were true, it is indeed good to go home, especially on time, but Makiko was surprised just the same; she didn't expect the American to speak the language. Few of them did. It sounded strange to her ears, his accent, his choice of words, it was not what she was used to. Americans were used to hearing English spoken in all manners of ways and with all sorts of accents, but Makiko did not feel the same way about Japanese. It sounded odd to her, coming from the American. "Yes, it is," she replied. She spoke perfect English. Well, almost, she was certain she had a hint of an accent. Of course, Americans are used to hearing English with an accent. The American had no way of knowing that she spoke English, of course, and it was nice of him to make an attempt to address her in her native tongue. Still, she tried to make things easier. That, and she felt her English atrophying, and wanted to do something to exercise it. If that something was talking to a strange man in an elevator, than that was what she would do. And that's exactly what they did, they made various small talk as the elevator made its descent, and on their way out of the building. They continued to talk as they stepped outside into the blast furnace that was Tokyo in the summer, and perhaps the pleasant conversation even dulled the crushing impact this time. When they arrived at the train station, however, they went their separate ways. Different trains, different lives. Still, as they went their separate ways, they could not help but think of the other. Rick thought of the little Japanese woman, with her alluring black hair, her pursed little lips, her deep, black eyes. Her skin was pale for an Asian, and creamy, and he imagined it was soft, even though he had not dared to touch her. For her part, Makiko could not take her mind off of the dashing American she had met. Japanese men were short and scrawny, this man was tall and strong, with exotic blue eyes. Makiko had never seen blue eyes close up before, and she adored them. When the hot Japanese night came, they each sat in bed, eyes wide open, thinking of each other. They both had the image of the other burned indelibly into their minds. When the next day came, each of them hurried out, intent upon meeting the other. A chance meeting and a bit of small talk had turned into an obsession. The heat, the crowds, nothing seemed to matter any more, as they embarked upon their separate quests. Each took their separate trains with high hopes to Shinjuku, each glanced around the train station and saw nothing, and each was disappointed. Each of them walked to the door of Tanaka Corporation, again watching, waiting, hoping. Again each was disappointed, and each emitted a small, soft, defeated sigh. In the depths of such disappointment, the sense of elation when their eyes met was only made greater. They tried to be discreet, they tried to walk slowly and nonchalantly towards one another, but such attempts at composure soon fell apart and they converged on one another rapidly, reaching out and touching this time, as if driven by instinct rather than logic. Makiko pulled him aside, opening a supply closet door, and pushing him lightly inside. It was a small, dimly lit room, containing boxes and boxes of blank paper, rolls of tape, boxes of pens, and many other supplies necessary for office life. And now, it contained Makiko and Rick, in each other's arms. She looked up at him, he looked down at her, and there was an instant connection that transcended language as their eyes met. They leaned in and kissed, first tentatively, but then passionately, any sense of corporate decorum discarded in the heat of the moment. Their hands caressed each other through the stuffy office clothes, which were then discarded as hastily as proper office protocol. But still, they took every opportunity to hold each other close, soft caresses and kisses before and after the removal of every piece of clothing. Rick sighed softly as Makiko leaned upward and kissed his neck. He didn't know why he felt such energy, why this woman drew him in and captivated him so, he could only be grateful that she felt the same way. His hands slid up her bare back, removing her white bra, exposing her soft little breasts. She had such beautiful small breasts, they were not large, but they were prominent just the same, because unlike most small breasts, which tended to flatten out, these were round. Lovely, round little spheres. Rick could not resist them, he extended his tongue and licked at them softly, loving the feel of Makiko's tender, supple breasts. Makiko gasped a little, whispering in Japanese into Rick's ear. Apparently her language skills escaped her in the heat of the moment as well. Rick did not understand her words, but he knew what she saying just the same, and he sucked one of her delicate pink nipples into his mouth, feeling it harden in response to the soft touch of his lips. Another gasp escaped her as he did the same thing to her other nipple, and it too swelled and hardened in response to his mouth. Makiko smiled up at him, brushing her smooth body against his, feeling her hard nipples brush across him, the tips still glistening because of his tongue-work. Her hands went downward, to her little panties, which she slid down, revealing her little mound and her beautiful pink lips, also moist. Rick paused for a moment to look at the gorgeous naked woman who stood before him, drinking in her beauty and letting it intoxicate him. She moved backwards, sitting down on one of the boxes of paper, spreading her legs. She knew what came next. Rick knelt down, sliding in between her legs, blowing lightly on her inner thighs. His hand slid up her smooth leg, caressing it, prompting her to spread her legs further. He looked up, their eyes meeting, as he blew lightly on her moist pink lips, prompting a soft little giggle from her. His eyes moved to her nipples, now even harder, aching with her desire. Following his eyes was his hand, as he reached up, lightly pinching those beautiful nipples. Another giggle from the woman before him. Makiko loved the feel of his hands on her nipples, pinching them, not so hard as to hurt, but hard enough that it sent a tingle of excitement all throughout her body. She felt his breath on her waiting pink lips, and then, in a moment of sheer bliss, his tongue. Makiko could not help but moan as Rick's tongue first slid up her pink sex, for the pleasure that the soft touch of his moist tongue unleashed was too intense to not let some of it out. Her moan seemed to inspire him, for he licked at her again, this time with more enthusiasm. Her flower grew excited, and he lapped at that as well, his tongue sliding deftly up and down, in and out, pleasuring every bit of Makiko's soaked womanhood. Still, she longed for him, she ached for him, she wanted and needed to feel him inside of her. Her hands reached out, pulling him upward, and towards her. Rick needed no further cue, he knew what exactly what this luscious vixen sitting before him wanted, as she looked into his eyes, her legs spread and her moist pink sex dripping wet. For his part, he was hard as a rock, and as Makiko's soft little hands slid his underwear down, her eyes focused on his long, thick, throbbing shaft. Her Japanese lovers had never been like this. She had never seen a man of such dimensions. So long, so hard. It caused a little pang of desire within her, and she knew there was only one way to cure it. Rick stepped forward, and Makiko slid forward, and they met in amorous rapture as he slid effortlessly into her. She was tight, the tightest he had ever had by far, but she was so very moist that it was still effortless. The pleasure of sliding into such a tight space was enough to make Rick moan with delight. Makiko's whole body shook and she moaned back, never having felt herself be quite so filled up before. First slowly and carefully, because she was so tight he feared hurting her, but then with increasing passion and abandon, Rick slid in and out of Makiko. Each time he pressed into her tightness, she clamped down on him, and he emitted a bit of a grunt. Each time he slid out, he longed to feel her again, and he gasped as he slid back inside, eager to fill her up once more, and feel her tightness on him. Makiko loved the feeling of him filling her up, it hurt her a little bit to have him stretching her so very much, but the pleasure that she felt was so great that the pain just melted away, and the two became one, much like Rick and Makiko's bodies, united in blissful abandon. He tensed, he moaned, and he knew he could hold back no longer. With one final hard thrust, he pushed into the gorgeous Japanese woman as far as he could go, and he exploded into her, incoherent moans escaping him as he leaned forward, holding onto her and the boxes for support as his legs just about gave out from the pleasure shooting through his body. Makiko squealed with delight, and her entire body shook as her pleasure reached its climax as well. Her tight, tight hole spasmed wildly, gripping Rick and milking him dry as he continued to shoot into her, her arms reaching out and holding onto him for support just the same as he was doing to her, as her explosive, intense orgasm filled her entire body. The two remained locked in an embrace for sometime there after, not speaking, just enjoying each other's presence and touch. In the blissful silent afterglow, Makiko's thoughts turned to the man she was holding in her arms. She now knew that the Americans were apparently just as lustful as the Japanese men she knew so well, but there was a twist-- they had the capacity to make her feel the same way. And she rather liked it.