My dream –
(The context here is quite limited in both time and space. The time, roughly three hours; the space, several rooms in a large lavish mansion outside of Beijing. The occasion is that of a May Day cocktail party, hosted by you. Attending are your husband and his friends and colleagues, your friends and colleagues, and your mutual friends.
For the occasion, you have hired six experienced temporary workers – two cocktail waitresses, two barmen, and two kitchen preps [to handle and platter hors d’œuvres]. I was by all appearances was hired, too, with experience in the training of hotel and restaurant staff, to manage the temporary helpers. In reality, we knew each other very well. We had been fucking for months, and this was all just another contrivance of sorts to grant us yet another opportunity to fuck. As I knew no one but you, and no one knew me, we felt sure that we could pull it off. Our helpers, too, also unknown, were to be our unwitting accomplices.)
When I arrived, you were already there. For the moment, before our helpers made their entry, we were alone. No introductions were necessary. We had been planning this. We kissed. Then you took my hand to show me the layout. For the help – prep kitchen, service kitchen, pantry, walk-in refrigerator, and bar. For the guests – ball room, ladies’ sitting room, men’s sitting room, and, down the hall, women’s powder and restroom, and men’s restroom.
For us, for our secret trysts, stealing every opportunity possible, there were the restrooms for the permanent female staff – handmaids, maids, cooks, nannies – and the permanent male staff – butler, drivers, and grounds workers – accessed from inside the house through an unmarked door opposite the public restrooms, opening to a hall accessible from both the kitchen and the outside. There was also the library, with its large tables, desks, and leather chairs. And there were the bedrooms upstairs.
With the tour concluded, and only minutes to spare, I took your hand, and pulled you to the pantry. Locking the door behind us, holding you, kissing you, I lifted the hem of your long charmeuse silk dress to reveal your unclad pussy. You were truly prepared – no underwear, and a dress of thick satin-like silk the very colour of cum, a creamy white. I knelt down, and licked and tongued your pussy and your clit. You were understandably anxious. I chose, instead, to initiate the evening from behind. I turned you around, raising your dress again. Taking it from me in both hands, you leaned over. I knelt again, and licked and tongued your butthole. I was already completely hard. I dropped my trousers, rubbed some of my bees wax and rosehip oil lip balm on my hand, then applied it to the full length of my eager cock. Holding you hips, as your held your dress, I fucked you in the ass. This was our prelude to the evening. Keeping it quick, in just a few minutes, I gave you your first load of many for eve. When I pulled out, you turned around and sucked me clean. As we emerged, our helpers were had just arrived.
As you made ready for the guests, I instructed the help. The caterers had delivered the hors d’œuvres. Glassware, liquor, beer, wine, ice – were all ready at the bar. The help was all Chinese, of course, cute young women and men.
All poised now for the grand evening, I went out within view of the entrance, where you stood in all your exquisite radiance. That first fuck had been too brisk. I wanted more of you. You turned your head as if you had read my mind. Smiling, you gave me a little wiggle of your butt. I knew my cum was dripping down your legs from the load I had given your gorgeous butthole. Even the thought of that started to get me hard again.
The guests began to arrive. They came in groups. The trip out to the mansion was quite a distance from the heart of Beijing; so many of the guests probably pooled their rides. Graciously, you greeted everyone. Fairly early on, a young man entered whom you seemed to know well. You kissed him on the cheek. You spoke to him at some length. He glanced my way. I presumed he was your husband. The guests kept coming. A group of women your age entered and gathered closely around you. You held hands with a few of them. They were all giggles and smiles. One of them whispered in your ear, then all of them looked in my direction and smiled.
All in all, there appeared to be between fifty and sixty guests. My helpers and I had snapped into action appropriately. By the time the last guests had arrived, everyone already there had a drink and an hors d’œuvre in his or her hand. The waitresses were making the rounds. The barmen were hopping. The kitchen girls were busily artfully arranging hors d’œuvres on platters. I waited my next cue from you. I got it – a tilt of your head, towards the library.
I told my helpers that I would be away a few minutes. Everything was cool. Inconspicuously, then, I made my way to the library. You had traced my steps, then followed. Inside, you locked the door, and ran to me. We kissed passionately. I said, ‘I love you madly.’ You said, ‘I love you, too.’ Gently, with my hand behind your head, I lowered your upper body unto a table. Lifting your dress, I could smell your wetness. I unfastened my belt, lowered my zipper, then dropped my pants. My cock, as hard as it could be, sprang up, oh so very ready to fuck you. I licked and tongued your pussy, just to get a taste, then I shoved my cock inside you, as deep as it would go. I raised your legs, bending them at the knees. I fucked you, and fucked you, and fucked you, each time more deeply. In just a few minutes, you began to writhe on the tabletop. You were reaching an orgasm. I continued to push, harder and harder. You lifted your hand to your mouth to stifle your scream of pleasure. You began to shudder, to twitch. You were there. At that moment, I, too, commenced – pulse after pulse after pulse – to fill you with my hot loving-you-only-and-forever cum.
After making ourselves presentable again, we exited one, and then the other. From the main ballroom, many of the guests had dispersed to the ladies’ and men’s sitting rooms. Those who remained in the ballroom were coupled, and engaged in conversation. Our second rendezvous had gone unnoticed.
The evening progressed. You came over to me one time to share the content of a few conversations you had had. With your husband, you had said only that a friend had mentioned me as a possible lead for the evening. You were told that I was a writer, living in Beijing, but in need of supplemental income. You had been told, too, that my Chinese was good. With your girlfriends, you had all gotten a good giggle. One of them said I was cute, too bad I was so old. When you told them I was a struggling writer, another asked what I wrote. You told her, fiction, I believe.
Two hours into the evening, we stole away again, this time to the male staff bathroom. Before going in, though, I heard a male voice inside. It was one of my barmen. We realised then that neither of those staff bathrooms were safe.
Plan B was risky, but as everyone appeared both occupied and at least moderately inebriated, thanks to our attentive help, we decided to go for it, to make a dash upstairs to the bedrooms – however circuitously required. As the hostess, you might certainly have cause to venture upstairs. I had no such cause. When I had first arrived, a couple of hours ago, when it still was light outside, to the side of the garage, and rising to the floor above it, I had noticed an exterior staircase. We agreed that you would meet me at the door at the top of those stairs. One, two, three, go.
That door was a private entrance or retreat from the back of the master suite. You let me in, and we fell together on the big master bed. How crazy was our love! How wonderfully inspiring, empowering, ingenious! Kissing, kissing, kissing…we had to catch up with the kissing…we had missed each other so. And then one more fuck. I pulled your dress off above head, I removed my shirt and pants, and then on a bed neither yours nor mine, we fucked as if our lives would end if we could not fuck.
This had to be our final enrapturement of the evening. We had to say goodbye there, in the bedroom above your gathered guests, your husband among them. As we put our clothes back on, we laughed. ‘Where next?’ I asked. ‘What next?’ ‘Why don’t we meet in Paris?’ you replied. We raised hands in high fives above our heads. As I left down the back stairs, I said again to you, ‘You know I love you with all my heart. You know I always will.’ You replied, ‘I know.’ Before I made it to the bottom of the stairs, you stepped out onto the upper landing of the staircase, and said, ‘I am getting as crazy as you are. I love it. I love you.’ Stepping back inside, you locked the door behind you.