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Foreign Affair 1/3 (ff)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Hi ...... As always, comments are both appreciated and
encouraged. Tell me what you liked about the story and what
you disliked. Don't just say , "nice story" or "it stunk" I
only ask that you reply by e-mail instead of postings, that
way I'm sure to get your reaction. Any and all email will
always be answered.
Thanks,
Ann D.
-FOREIGN AFFAIR-
Part One
by Ann Douglas
"God this is boring." Amanda McIntyre thought to herself as
she reached for another drink.
For the hundredth time, she cursed Jim Peterson for getting
sick two days before the trade delegation was to leave for
Osaka. Then she cursed her boss, Bill O'Hare who had
volunteered her to take Jim's place. Nine days in Japan and
she hadn't been included in any discussion of importance.
Every day they would hold meeting after meeting where nothing
was really accomplished. Then at night, the men on both sides
would go out and survey Osaka's night life. And of course she
wasn't included in this male-bonding ritual. Never mind that
it was during this hedonistic forays that the real deals were
made.
She had considered telling Bill to go to hell, but then
she'd be looking for a new job by now. Ever since she had come
out last year, Bill O'Hare had made no secret that he didn't
want that "dyke", as he always referred to her in private, in
his department. He never said or did anything in public that
Amanda could prove, but the signs were always there.
Looking at her watch, the 24 year old blonde decided she'd
done her bit for the company and started to make for the door.
The cocktail party was already gearing down and she knew she
wouldn't be missed. Besides, the men were probably already
gearing up for their next pornographic excursion.
As she neared the door, she ran into Pete Wilson, the head of
their delegation. Her luck was really running in the red
today, Pete's view of her was only slightly less antagonistic
than Bill O'Hara's.
"Leaving already?" The tall gray bearded man said.
"I have a little headache, I was going to lay down." She
lied.
"I see," Wilson said in a disapproving tone. "Well I'm not
surprised. It's not like you've been much of a team player on
this trip. When we go home tomorrow without the trade
agreement, I'm sure your lack of cooperation will be noted."
"Lack of cooperation...?" She asked.
"That's what I said." He replied. "There's not a man on our
delegation that wouldn't put it all on the line to get the
Japs to sign. Yet when Hitanuma asked you out for drinks, you
insulted him by refusing. He's not the type of man who
forgives or forgets."
"Wait a second ,buster." Amanda shot back. "No way you're
going to pin this one on me. You've never even looked at all
the position papers I've submitted. If you did and followed
some of their advice, the people here at Hiraizumi Industries
might've been more willing to deal. If this agreement falls
through it's become of your hard nose non-cooperative
negotiation stand. Not because I wouldn't roll over for Mr.
Hitanuma. If you wanted a corporate whore, you should've
brought your secretary."
With that she turned and walked away. She could feel his
eyes burning into her back. Of course Wilson and the others
had already agreed to put the blame on her. They'd report
that if only she'd have been a little friendlier to the Japs,
they'd have gotten the agreement.
"I've been set up." Amanda noted. "It had all been a set
up." Jim Peterson had never been sick. It had all been
arraigned beforehand. If the mission went sore, it was all
that dyke's fault.
Her face flushed with anger as she reached the elevator.
"Well fuck them all." She said out loud as she hit the call
button. "I'm better off leaving this lousy job anyway."
Amanda took the elevator to the rooftop gardens instead of
her room. She needed the night air to clear her head. After
about a half hour, she began to regret her earlier outburst.
She should've quit this job months ago, at least then it
would've been on her own terms. Now as a fired employee, one
which was blamed for the failure of a important trade deal,
her future prospects would be few.
Lost in thought, she hadn't heard the soft footsteps behind
her. When the new arrival finally spoke, Amanda nearly jumped
five feet.
"Konbanwa, Amanda san." A soft fluid voice said.
Amanda whirled about to find herself facing a rather
attractive Japanese woman. She stood a few inches shorted
than Amanda's own five foot six. Her short black hair showed
the slightest touches of gray and Amanda guessed her age to be
about mid- forties. Of course it was always hard to tell with
some oriental women. They looked pretty much the same from
thirty to sixty. She wore a bright green cocktail dress
which accented her small breasts.
Searching her temporarily hazy memory, Amanda tried to place
where she had seen the woman before. She had to have been
some executive or other's wife. How else could she have
known her name. Try as she could, the young woman just
couldn't place her.
The older woman just smiled for a moment, then made a hand
motion leading to a large glass door off to the left of the
garden.
"Yokoso oide kudasareta, Amanda san." She said as she made an
inviting gesture with her hand.
Now seeing that there was an apartment beyond the glass
doors, Amanda realized that she had just been invited in. The
woman must be married to one of the corporate big wheels to
rate a home like this. Reaching the door, she stopped and
gasped in amazement at the decor. It was totally western. It
could've been a Penthouse on Park Avenue.
"Dozo." The woman said as she again
motioned for Amanda to enter.
Once inside, Amanda took a moment to take in her
surroundings. Most apartments in Japan were tiny affairs yet
just this living room could house an entire family. A large
screen TV occupied the far wall, surrounded by a state of the
art stereo system. On the nearby piano was a photograph of a
younger version of the woman standing next to a much older
Japanese man. She didn't recognize the man, he hadn't taken
part in any of the trade talks.
The woman said something else that Amanda didn't quite catch.
She felt a little foolish not being able to understand. Yet
it wasn't her fault that she didn't speak Japanese. Searching
her memory for what she hoped were the right words, Amanda
said the only Japanese phrase she had been able to memorize.
"Gomen nasai nihon goa hanase masen" She said, hoping that
she'd just said she didn't speak Japanese and not some other
ridicules remark.
The woman just smiled again and pointed to herself.
"Mariko." She said simply.
Amanda breathed a sign of relief. At least she hadn't
insulted her.
"Amanda." She replied. "Then I guess you already knew that."
Mariko moved over to a small wet bar and asked with her hands
if Amanda wanted a drink.
"Why not," Amanda said as she indicated acceptance with a
motion of her hand.
Silence reigned for a few minutes as both women tasted their
drinks. Amanda kept asking herself, what did she do now.
There was only so much she and Mariko could do with hand
gestures.
"This is good." She noted out loud as she sipped more of her
drink.
"Hai!" Her host agreed.
"Well, thank you for the drink, but I guess I really should
be going." Amanda finally said as she placed the glass on a
small table.
Mariko seemed agitated as the American woman started to turn
in the direction of the door. She reached out and took hold of
Amanda's hand. The smaller woman's grip was quite strong and
surprisingly warm. Amanda looked into her dark eyes and
smiled.
"If only we spoke the same language," Amanda mused as she
enjoyed the touch of Mariko's hand in hers. "Then I'd be able
to tell you what an attractive woman you are. Back home I
might even try to entice you back into my bed."
She paused a moment then went on,
knowing that the Japanese woman didn't understand a word she
was saying.
"I don't even know if they have such a thing as lesbians in
Japan." She concluded.
Mariko's eyes suddenly lit up at the word lesbian. Her grip
grew stronger and she seemed to pull Amanda closer.
"Les-bins." She repeated, again looking deep into Amanda's
blue eyes.
A confused look covered Amanda's face. Was Mariko asking if
she was a lesbian? Had some member of the delegation made a
remark identifying her as one? Or was Mariko trying to say
that she too was a lesbian?
The tall blonde didn't have a lot of time to ponder the
questions as Mariko took her hand and pressed it firmly
against her small breasts. As the naked palm pressed against
the exposed flesh at the top of her dress, the Japanese woman
let out a soft sigh.
If she wasn't a lesbian, Amanda said to herself, she was at
least curious enough about girl sex to have brought her here.
However she had heard about Amanda, she must have decided to
take advantage of her sudden appearance on the roof. If only
to satisfy her curiosity.
To respond was very tempting. Amanda had always been very
careful to keep her business and personal lives very separate.
Back home, a husband might head straight for the divorce
court if he found his wife with another woman. Over here
there was no telling what could happen. From what she'd seen
of Japanese husbands, they were so conservative that they
made Jesse Helms look like a bleeding heart liberal.
Then again, there wasn't much more she could do to screw up
her career. Mariko was very beautiful, and it had been so
very long since she'd broken up with her last girlfriend.
Maybe it was time to throw caution to the wind.
Mariko then took the decision out of
Amanda's hands. Pulling the American closer, she leaned
forward and kissed her. So fluid had been her motion, Amanda
was surprised by the sudden touch of her lips. She opened her
mouth to respond and felt a soft touch as Mariko's tongue
entered her mouth.
"It seems like you've done this before." Amanda said as their
tongues caressed each other.
Finally the kiss ended and the two women separated, each
stepping back about a foot. Mariko reached out and placed her
outstretched hand on Amanda's large breast. Running it across
the blonde's blue dress, she stopped when she reached the
large nipple. Her smile grew with wider as she found it
already hard.
"I guess they're a little larger than You're use to." Amanda
grinned.
Cupping both of Amanda's breasts, Mariko stepped closer and
kissed the exposed flesh of each one. Then she lifted her head
higher and kissed Amanda's lips again.
This time, Amanda was ready and returned the kiss with all of
the passion she could. She pulled the older woman against
her, so that their breasts pressed against each other. As her
tongue again explored the inner reaches of Mariko's mouth,
Amanda slid her hand down the Japanese woman's back and then
pulled up her dress. Then continuing downward, her hand
slipped beneath the elastic of Mariko's panties and finally
came to a rest on her smooth buttocks. Amanda squeezed the
soft flesh and was rewarded by a small sign from Mariko.
They stood there a few minutes, holding each other tightly.
Then Mariko motioned for Amanda to follow her into another
room. Taking hold of Mariko's offered hand, Amanda willingly
followed.
Entering one of the side room, Amanda
found herself confronted by a bathroom of immense proportions.
In the center of the room was a large tub, big enough to
easily fit four people. Next to the wall length vanity stool
a large glass enclosed shower, with water nozzles on all three
of the interior walls. All in all, the bath was larger than
Amanda's bedroom back home.
Letting go of Amanda's hand, the older woman began to
disrobe. Her bright green dress soon draped a small stool
against the wall, and her panties quickly followed.
Ann Douglas
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