Yeongmi entered the lounge before her shift started and looked around. She checked in the mirror that her hair was drawn back into a tight bun that pulled her hair back tight around her face just before the ears. With her little navy-blue hat bearing the insignia of her chaebol and the navy-blue skirt and jacket over the crisply ironed white shirt and multi-colored tie, she looked much like a stewardess, with the red pin at her breast indicating to any interested foreign visitor that it was only for their show. She sat ramrod straight as she surveyed the room familiar to foreign executives but only vaguely rumored about outside exhibition circles. It was the third day of the exhibition and so far work had been unexciting and routine.
She remembered when she graduated only three years before, back in the mid-30s; the interviewers had spoken highly of her and the head of her department smiled and said, “We’ve got our eye on you, you know.” This was truer than she had realized; two months after starting, a chance encounter in the restroom with a lovely young woman from accounting eventuated in a quick trip to the boss’s office, where he showed her the recording taken through the four fiber-optic cables in the ceiling and six in each wall that resulted in a remarkably high-definition holographic display for those fortunate enough to own the company’s device, and ultra-high-definition display otherwise of their coupling from any angle.
“Now, we are always looking for game young employees. You have a variety of choices—we can release this into the wild and give you a small cut of royalties, or you can join our Happiness Team. If neither of those is acceptable, well, I would remind you that unemployment is fairly high right now, especially for any young woman dismissed for misuse of company property.” The last was unacceptable, the first forbidding—although such videos were well known to be aimed for the swamp of the American and European markets, they quickly migrated to the Korean market as well, and then she’d be tagged for life as effectively the property of the supposedly secret video division of the chaebol. She had heard rumors of the second option and decided that it offered her the best protection of her reputation and left open the possibility of migrating elsewhere, especially once she worked out where in the company to concentrate on erasing it a few years down the line.
And so tonight she sat waiting for any of the executives from overseas negotiating contracts with the chaebol. The trade fair had been world-famous from the moment it started twelve years before; in the three weeks that the fair lasted, deals were made worth hundreds of billions that connected twenty countries with silken ties of commerce. Her job when fairs were in session was to offer solace and delight to any executives involved in such contracts with her own company; her pin indicated she was available and willing to either sex for an unlimited range of activities, while her outfit was custom-designed by the chaebol’s AI to suit her perfectly so as to appeal to the more jet-setting, modernist type of businessman. Of course, as all most of them knew of Korean culture and cared to know of Korean women were the surface gloss of her country’s internationally popular media that percolated into their awareness, the choices of stewardess, 17th-century royal lady-in-waiting, barely legal schoolgirl, and a variety of leather-clad singing icons were all the Happiness Team felt necessary to equip. Of course, her own training in industrial engineering and electronic design was of absolutely no interest to her likely clients, and of much less interest to her employers than her physical attractions to deep-pocketed men and women of power.
Still, at least it was less unpleasant work than she had feared. The two men and three women the night before, for example, had wanted quick, routine pleasure, and two of the women and one of the men had gone above and beyond to ensure she had her pleasure as well; moreover, all but one had given her a tip. It still galled her and left her feeling used and demeaned, but it was the safest way she could imagine of practicing the age-old sideline to men’s business doings, and she was able during the transactions themselves to forget why she was there and focus on enjoying pleasuring her clients.
She saw a nondescript fellow dressed to perfection walk up to her and sit down beside her. He surveyed her outfit with evident appreciation, smiled at the sight of her red pin, and fingered his pocket pal.
“Hello,” she said, noticing her bracelet blink the light indicating she was on the clock. “Come here often?”
“No, just arrived yesterday.”
Over the next five minutes she got his name and company name, and a discreet automatic message from the hotel desk to her info-bracelet generated once he had indicated to his pocket pal that he was choosing her for the evening informed her that he was the leader of a delegation interested in a contract worth…she nearly whistled. A nice bonus lay in her future if he was at all pleased with their transaction. He was in no rush and steered her into a private room. Once the door closed, the sounds of the lounge disappeared and only the low murmur of the ventilation was barely audible. He pushed a button so the table slid away, leaving a meter and a half or so between his couch and hers. She sat so as to pose for him and slowly ramped up her wiles as she sounded out his wishes.
“How do you like our country?”
“Beautiful, clean, so modern.”
She smiled despite the fact that foreign visitors had made exactly that formulation for the last sixty years, and quickly went on to learn what shows he liked; the bracelet picked up his physiological responses and guided her swiftly and surely to know exactly what he wanted. She raised her eyebrows slightly at what it hinted, and then asked, “Where have you visited?” And so through the usual spiel to the routine question sealing the deal in the fair’s customs, “And what do you think of Korean women?”
“So beautiful and elegant.”
“Have you ever had a Korean girlfriend before?”
“Never had the honor.”
She nearly yawned at the same script that she had played out every single time, invariably leading to the bedroom, but then another signal came over her bracelet, indicating another of his requests. Well, this was interesting; it could be great fun or utter degradation, but in either case, it was something new. She looked at him fixedly and said, “We have a wide selection.”
He named a video series that was not broadcast, only streamed to special subscribers. Although her face was neutral, inside she was quite pleased, as her own tastes could be satisfied without having to pretend to enjoy more than one man taking her, and she could freely indulge her own curiosity and lusts. She nodded, “I know just the party”; she keyed in a quick code in her pocket pal that she had been hoping to use for months and took off her little cap, and three minutes later the door shushed open and shut as Yumiko from their Japanese subsidiary entered, dressed in a red outfit matching her own. Yeongmi’s belly clenched in desire as she sat there eager to finally have the chance to explore her coworker, who was physically very much her own type and strongly reminiscent of her first lover.
The series was a 120-episode sordid tale of corporate intrigue heavy with sexual liaisons of every sort, at least three explicitly filmed in each two-hour episode; he had named the episode and scene in which two of the heroines saw through their differences and coupled fully clothed in an office. She had heard rumors that fashion designers had bid heavily for the product placement in the episode, and the scenes, prolonged and detailed, hotly sexual and a marvel of perfect fashion, were some of her own personal favorites.
Yumiko looked equally pleased when she named the series, episode, and scene, and raised her eyebrow slightly as Yeongmi showed herself quite eager to pose her. She then smiled and eagerly posed Yeongmi in turn, and as they slowly ran their fingertips over each other’s clothed forms, Yeongmi felt herself grow soft and wet immediately; Yumiko’s fully erect nipples suggested she was equally aroused. Finally, after they had caressed each other’s breasts over the clothing for five minutes, she finally leaned in for their first kiss and felt Yumiko try to devour her.
By this time their client, Brooks she remembered as his last name, had unzipped and was watching avidly as they teased him with unleashed passion remaining chastely fully clothed; he left his cock unattended, clearly wishing to prolong the spectacle, and Yeongmi ran her lips from Yumiko’s lips to her jaw to her right ear, then down to where her neck nestled in her collar. At the same time, she ran her hand down from her small, firm breasts and beguiling nipples to her waist, then teased her covered mount with a fingertip, then two. She felt Yumiko’s hand do the same, finding her clitoris easily under the fabric and applying the lightest of pressure.
She looked over at Yumiko’s face and marveled at her flush of desire, her lower lip caught hard between her teeth, her eyes devouring her as she delighted in her new lover, then glanced quickly over to see Brooks undressed, cock fully erect, but sitting still with an evident desire to watch them put through their paces for him. That was fine with Yeongmi, who had nothing against penises, really, so long as they were respectful, clean, quick, and fairly unobtrusive in her work. She looked back at Yumiko and whispered in Japanese, “Let’s make this last.” Yumiko nodded and whispered back in Korean, “Please.”
Yeongmi kissed her for another minute, then raised herself to look down at Yumiko’s lithe, writhing body as her fingers bunched up her skirt slowly and brought the hem ever closer. After two minutes the lower hem was in her hand and she lifted it slowly up her thin white thighs to bunch it up at her waist. As per the usual regulations, Yumiko was wearing no panties, and she sighed happily at the sight of Yeongmi staring raptly at the join of her thighs. With tortuous slowness, she inched her knees apart and watched Yeongmi’s face closely as her swollen lips came into view. She gazed up and down at the beautiful woman fully dressed before her except for the jagged gash and thick hairs open to her eyes. She caressed the uncovered lips and expertly worked her fingers inside Yumiko, quickly finding the places she liked being touched best, and slowly rubbed her.
As Yumiko came alive, she muttered brief instructions, much as in the video scene they were paying tribute to, and more quickly than Yeongmi thought possible fucked hard against her hand as she sped up, thrusting her fingers hard inside Yumio as her first climax washed over her. She watched every twitch of Yumiko’s body, focused on every pulse of her cunt, and delighted in her twisting body letting go in an uninhibited orgasm that left her screaming at the end. She left her fingers inside her, caressing lightly until Yumiko breathed quietly, “Love me fully now.” She leaned down then and kissed the hairs on her mount, breathing her scent as she felt her tunnel come alive around her fingers.
She felt Brooks come up behind her, and as he pushed on her head, she lowered her mouth to Yumiko’s vulva and gave suck. He lifted her own hem and stroked her lightly, chuckling as he felt how much she liked the scene, and with no further ado slowly entered her. He leaned over her shoulder to watch her mouth at work, and Yumiko murmured sweetly in Japanese. She continued licking at the soft swollen lips like oyster under her tongue, feeling them slide around her tongue as it explored her, the little pearl of her clit nestled happily under her upper lip, her two fingers below her lower lip nestled inside her and pushing her back wall hard, and she wasn’t sure if it was the cunt in front of her or the cock taking her behind her that was making her so flushed. In any case, his cock was a good size, not too long but fairly thick, and she was determined to give it the pleasure it needed as well.
After ten minutes, she felt surprise. American men, she had heard from her coworkers, rarely lasted when watching what seemed to be a staple among the businessmen who came to their country; the hostesses’ outfits and trained behaviors eminently suited by AI to their visitors’ most common fetishes and the tastes shaped by the video materials that were so popular there usually resulted in eruptions within five minutes followed by at most one or two more the rest of the evening, but this man was having none of that. He clearly loved watching the two of them and seemed happy to let them take their own pleasure on company time, which was rare in her experience among men who wanted two women, for they usually wanted two women who wanted them and only slathered with each other as an hors d’oeuvre. He stroked vigorously inside her as he watched fixedly, his pace changing not a whit as Yumiko climaxed loudly under her tongue, not even when she came for the first time from the pleasure of giving Yumiko hers, and his hands joined Yumiko’s in holding her head in place as she quickly rose to her next peak.
She suddenly remembered rumors of the latest pharmaceutical advances from Europe, subcutaneous patches that stabilized a man’s hormones and released new drugs that kept him hard for as long as he desired it. Well, she thought, either he had access to products yet to be marketed or he was a man of superhuman stamina; in either case, it promised to be an exhausting and eminently pleasurable evening. Suddenly Yumiko held her head tightly and the two climaxed simultaneously, and when they finished he pulled her up and had them change places. Yumiko kissed her passionately and murmured in Korean, “Thank you, I could fall in love with that.” Following the scenario Brooks had in mind, she immediately dove between Yeongmi’s thighs and sucked greedily as he thrust into her.
Her job now was to project the perfect image, cool and collected and elegant until passion rose and swept her reserve away, Yumiko’s to manage the tasks at hand, and she gave herself over to the beautiful woman finally exploring her. She looked down to see Yumiko smiling up at her, Brooks staring over her shoulder at her tongue expertly delving into the tender, secret flesh that all the technology and all the media and all the fetishes leading everyone by the nose still revolved around, the essential, ineliminable object of so much human desire, and the sudden feeling of power it elicited in her pushed her over the edge. She held Yumiko’s head in place and came a second time quickly, then giggled as she felt two tongues working her. Soon it was only Brooks’ tongue as Yumiko squealed in yet another climax, and with pleasant surprise, she realized he was enormously talented himself and not in the least averse to giving her pleasure. She sensed him rubbing his fingers in something and then felt them enter the mouth of her vagina, and in two more seconds experienced another pre-market pharmaceutical preparation that sent her into a five-minute-long orgasm that somehow did not leave her unconscious.
When he left her to concentrate on Yumiko, she sat there stunned. She smoothed down her dress, put her little cap back in place with the two pins, and watched as Yumiko experienced the same extended orgasm, grinning at the thought that while she had been shaped and molded to the economic imperatives of the Fourth Industrial Revolution, the Chemical Revolution was still going strong and yielding better living through chemistry.