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 
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Bob_Williams

