It was Em’s first solo business trip to Hong Kong. She knew the place well and had been there on business before, but always with a colleague, usually her boss, along for the ride. So she was no stranger to the Fragrant Harbour but a novice in terms of the delights it was said to offer.
She was no stranger to hot massages either, having sampled them in various places around the world and now and then at home, when the opportunity arose. Sometimes these were at home, by the pool or on the covered terrace at the back of the house.
Once when Ambrose was away on a lengthy trip she broke a rule and had red-hot massages, and the sex that always deliciously followed, twice on their big Japanese-style futon bed. She had felt terribly guilty about that but it had been magnificent.
Sometimes she had hot massages at a discreet salon she knew. Occasionally she booked a motel room and an out call.
On holidays she usually managed to sample the local wares. It was easier if she was holidaying alone but manageable if Ambrose was around. Girls shop, after all. Or an excuse can be found, as in Greece a few years ago when she had stayed home at the villa one day while everyone else was off doing holiday things.
She remembered that one very well, because she’d lost the nerve to ask for extra hot but the masseur had provocatively stripped her on the bed anyway and oiled her very fully. Very fully indeed, she recalled.
Then he had given her an incredibly sexy ninety-minute massage with his hands and later his tongue and then his hard, long cock, and followed up with the hottest fuck she’d had in a long time. She still savoured the memory of his rock-hard cock parting her hair and making her shout in time with his thrusts.
There had been others, among them a memorable session in a massage room at a sex club she and Ambrose had visited on an island holiday, two very hot ones in Brazil, two in Argentina, an exceptional one by their pool at home and one on a cruise liner. All good, but Greece was the stand-out so far.
Now, in a new job with plenty of travel required, Em found herself in a world in which for travel purposes she was her own master. Well, mistress, actually. The thought gave her a smile.
Em had a girlfriend in Hong Kong who had been working there for a year or so and had related to her over too many drinks on one holiday trip the many and varied opportunities that presented themselves to travelling and resident women.
One her friend told her about in colourful detail was a night when she had decided to book an out call massage. The masseur, a young Chinese man who smelled of lavender soap, had stripped her naked on her bed before the massage began, and then asked if she’d like the hot ending. She had of course said yes. And it was hot, yes.
Em had pretended to be scandalized by this, but she wasn’t. She filed it away for possible future experience of the same phenomenon.
Now she was in Hong Kong for the first time on her own and staying at a very plush hotel in Central. It had a great view of the harbour and a very big bed. Em was on a tight schedule of meetings and business dinners but the two nights at the end of her program were unallocated. She made a mental note to keep at least one of them free after nine o’clock.
Another girlfriend had told her of a place that catered very nicely for women either on the premises or in their hotel room. They had gone there together one evening for a drink and it was exceptionally nice and very expensive.
Her girlfriend had stayed on at the place for a heavy massage but Em excused herself because of an early start to the business day next morning. In any case, she thought, she rather favoured the hotel room option.
Before leaving she booked a three-hour out call session for nine o’clock three evenings hence, the second last night of her stay, and paid a steep deposit. They told her that Emil, who freelanced for them and was from Argentina, would be her masseur. He would arrive at her hotel at eight-fifty and call from the lobby.
On the appointed evening Em was back in her suite by seven, had dined-in room by eight, bathed, perfumed and powdered by eight-thirty, and was in her hottest massage string and the hotel robe by eight-thirty-five. The suite was plush and offered ample space with a great view. The bed, in a separate screened off chamber, was eight-foot square.
She dimmed all the lights, put a four-hour sexy rock compilation including Pink Floyd on the music system, and poured herself a whisky. She called Ambrose, for whom the time was two hours later, and said she was going to bed early and she’d call in the morning.
Ambrose didn’t believe that for a moment, she knew. He would wonder who she was going out with tonight and would speculate that the evening would end with the traditional pants-down ceremony. He had a reporter’s nose. He could detect a plausible fib at a hundred paces.
However, he was solicitous on the phone and only someone who knew him exceedingly well would have detected the irony in his voice when he wished her a good night.
Em didn’t care. She knew Ambrose got his own delights from time to time. And tonight she was going to get hers, very hotly in circumstances most women could only dream about.
She considered her position. She was trim, with nicely rounded breasts, a flat tummy, an attractively slim bum, long legs and currently a very tiny and exceedingly slim landing strip and nude pussy.
Em had only recently received a glowing endorsement of this attractive state, in Singapore before she came on to Hong Kong on this trip, from an old friend she’d invited to dinner and who had stayed for dessert.
Ambrose knew about that. She had told him. She had also told him she hugely enjoyed the experience. Ambrose got off on that from time to time. He had once bought her a hotel room and a seriously sexy all-night masseur as a birthday present. He was good like that.
Em felt her nipples hardening with that recollection. The man had massaged her twice and fucked her four times, three times in her hot cunt and once in her mouth.
Her nipples hardened further when the phone rang. She answered it. It was Emil calling from the house phone in the lobby. “Can I come straight up,” he asked.
Em giggled. “I certainly hope so,” she said.
Emil laughed in return and said, “See you in a minute.”
Em met him at the door. Emil was tall, in his mid-twenties, had attractively thick hair, and a physique that stirred Em’s juices immediately. Her pussy had moistened the moment she opened the door.
She showed him through the vestibule to the main portion of the suite. He took in the view, of her rather than the harbour, and said, “Very nice.” Then he asked where the bathroom was and said he’d be back in a moment or two.
Em considered her situation again. She was about to be hotly massaged by a young man who would afterwards slide his eager and rock-hard cock into her and fuck her to heaven.
Well, that was the theory, she told herself. She briefly wondered whether she should feel nervous about this, or at least ill at ease. Then she put that thought out of her head and opened her robe.
She was wearing a very small white lace string that showed her little landing strip as a come-on shadow beneath the fabric. In Singapore, she recalled, it had been an instant hit. It was the first time in two years that the man she wore it for that night had seen her pussy.
He had licked her pussy through her panties. She had loved that. Then he had torn them off and licked her pussy naked. She had come when he did that, the first of several comings that night.
Emil returned. He was wearing a black tank-top and black jeans and he had biceps to die for. She flicked her robe fully open, showing her naked breasts with their aroused nipples. Her pussy got much wetter moments later, when Emil came over the sofa, stripped off Em’s robe and said, “You won’t need that.”
Then he reached down and took off her panties and said, “Or these.”
He said, “You are a very hot lady,” and he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom area and placed her gently, face down, in the middle of the huge bed.
He moved her legs very widely apart. Em let out a little moan of pleasure. He ran a finger through her slit and tweaked her landing strip. Em moaned again. He said, “I will enjoy looking at that later, when I am fucking you.” Em said, “Ohh!”
Emil then oiled Em’s back, buttocks and legs, very fully. Em made more noise when Emil oiled her pussy and couldn’t resist running his slick fingers further forward and up to disturb her mound and its little line of hair.
His massage was strong, especially between the legs, where it mattered most to Em. She came, making a lot of lovely noise. Emil massaged her pussy a second time as a reward, and achieved the same result, only louder.
Then it was time to turn over and Emil managed this maneuver effortlessly. Suddenly Em found herself on her back, buzzing with lust. Emil oiled all of her front in a very comprehensive way, paying special attention to Em’s breasts with their rigid, highly erect nipples, and her mound with the sexy little line of hair up the middle.
Emil oiled her pussy again and this time placed his tongue in Em’s groove and then penetrated her wetly open vagina with it. Em came again while he ploughed her hot furrow in this fashion and squeezed her nipples. A little later she had bucked on his tongue and he briefly withdrew and whispered “Good girl!” Em came as soon as he resumed his magic massaging, making a great deal of noise.
Now Emil moved the focus of his hot attention to Em’s breasts. He cupped each of them in his hands in turn and licked and gently bit each nipple. Em threw her legs wide apart and felt Emil’s hot fingers penetrate her vagina while also playing with her clit.
She moaned in pleasure and then said in a salty, sultry whisper, “I want your cock, Emil. Give it to me.”
Emil shed his jeans. Em saw that he wore no underwear. By now she had lost all sense of time. She didn't know that Emil still had a whole hour in which to fuck her.
She hadn't known either until just now that he would do so with the fat nine inches of slick cock that he first briefly thrust into her and then withdrew and brought to her mouth. Em sucked him off hungrily while Emil, straddling her, hotly tongue-fucked her.
Em was panting with passion but still was able to note and enjoy the fact that Emil’s rock-hard cock had freshly shaved stubble along its whole length. She shuddered with pleasure at the thought of that extra stimulus in her cunt, a delight that was surely coming up soon.
It was. Emil withdrew his cock from Em’s tight teeth-clench, tore off his tank-top, swung his legs across Em’s body, got between her legs and ate her pussy with great enthusiasm. When Em had come again, for the fifth time, and writhed on the bed shouting loud enough to drown on Pink Floyd’s The Wall, Emil and his hard long cock made their move.
He pushed her legs wider apart than she ever imagined possible and plunged his cock into her, thrusting forty to the minute. He maintained this pace for five minutes while Em abandoned herself to ecstasy and bucked and writhed under him, making lovely coming noises. Six!
Then it was Emil’s turn. His back arched, his eyes focused fixedly on Em’s sexy little mound and his hard cock plunging in and out of her vagina ever faster, and he too shouted. Em felt his cock pulse with his coming. She shouted, “Fill me!”
Emil did as he was told. He obliged her with eight great bursts of hot cum in her willing channel, each one seemingly squeezed from his cock by the muscle spasms of her orgasmic vagina. Seven!
Em told Ambrose later, much, much, later, that it was the best sex she had ever had. And later still, she told him she’d booked Emil for the next evening too, her last in Hong Kong on that trip.
It was not her last hot massage in Hong Kong, however, or her last with Emil.
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