Doug shook hands firmly with Chow Min, sealing the deal. He'd learned a long time ago to be firm in everything in life and had since earned the reputation as a shark. He didn't mind. It meant that his business was the envy of other companies. It meant he was the best. It meant that people who had once looked down on the backwater kid from Louisiana now looked up to him as employer.
Chow Min held his hand a moment too long, drawing Doug's attention back to the present. The old Chinese man mumbled something that made Doug start. He silently cursed himself, remembering to look over at the thin nervous man at his side. He wasn't supposed to understand Mandarin, although he'd swear the old man had just invited him to a pleasure palace.
Simon Yang leaned close, trying to hear Chow Min's instructions. He twisted his hands, speaking in quick low Mandarin, confirming details, then looked up to Doug. "Mr. Chow would like you to accompany him to his house for...um, relaxing activities," Simon explained, choosing a less graphic interpretation that wouldn't offend Western morals.
Doug followed the exchange, hiding his amusement. The old man had invited him to celebrate their mutual business accord by having animal sex with the young women he kept at a house outside the city. Evidently, Mr. Chow remained youthful by indulging in a harem. Not a bad way to relax, Doug decided.
"Please tell Mr. Chow that I appreciate the invitation and would like to relax at his home," Doug answered, his voice carefully bland, not betraying his additional knowledge.
Mr. Chow reacted to Simon's words with a grin and more hand pumping. He rattled off a few sentences more before turning and leaving the room with the rest of his retinue. Simon looked flustered, evidently pondering how best to tell his client that Mr. Chow had cautioned Doug that the harem would be more than his penis was able to handle and he would been sucked dry by the end of the evening.
"His car will pick you up at your hotel at seven," Simon finally said. Doug hid a laugh as the man preceded him from the conference room.
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Doug packed his bags and checked out of his hotel at six-thirty. He figured he could get a ride to the airport from Mr. Chow's house as easily as back to this hotel. He settled into one of the leather chairs in the lobby and updated his PDA while he waited for seven. He sent a brief e-mail to his second in command, explaining where he would be and letting Andy know he'd be in touch later with contact info.
At precisely seven, Simon Yang entered the lobby, followed by a uniformed chauffer. Doug rose to greet the thin man and the chauffer collected his luggage. The trip was smooth, although longer than Doug had expected. He would have to take that into account and leave early enough to be through security and still make his flight.
Mr. Chow's "house" was a compound from the outside, with tall stone walls topped with barbed wire. Inside the guarded gate was the pleasure palace the old man had first referred to. The building itself was sprawling and almost Mediterranean in design. There was a dense garden surrounding the perimeter, but the car pulled through into a cobbled courtyard.
As the car stopped, several young women in silk dresses approached the car and opened the doors. Doug and Simon were escorted into the house with the women, leaving the chauffer to the bags. Doug was surprised by both the youth and culture of the women -- of the seven flitting about, only one was Asian and all looked to be around twenty.
Mr. Chow met them in the foyer, dressed in traditional clothing, his manner relaxed and jovial. He wished Doug a "good evening of relaxation" (Simon's words), explaining that he had an unexpected meeting this evening with a labor union. Doug was actually hoping for the exuberant pussy fucking of Mr. Chow's original invitation and was actually quite relieved the old man would be busy elsewhere.
Doug was escorted upstairs and down a long corridor to an incredible suite of rooms. They were done in the fashion of movie oriental palaces -- all silk and gilt and lacquer. There was a sitting room in front, with a table and low chairs and a couple low couches next to an out-of-place but appreciated top of the line entertainment center. Doug could see the bedroom through the doorway at the other side of the room and was amazed at the billowy fabric walls and floor covered with silk cushions and mats.
"Come, relax," one of the girls said in heavily accented English. She was almost as tall as he was, her body slender and graceful, with long blond curls spilling over her pale shoulders. Sky blue eyes met his suggestively.
"You speak English?" Doug asked in surprise. She nodded, as did the redhead behind her. Three of the original seven had brought him to the suite, the rest taking Simon down to another wing. There was a dark-haired beauty somewhere in the suite, Doug thought, turning to look for her and seeing his luggage was already set to one side. This was truly a pleasure palace -- where everything was anticipated and provided before you could ask.
"Come, relax," the redhead coaxed, her voice a little less accented. She slid her hands over his arm and then slid one into his suit jacket. The blond knelt before him, bending to his shoes. Doug almost protested, but the redhead slid her hand down over the front of his slacks and his manhood stirred. Two women undressing him -- what did he have to complain about...?
The redhead slipped his jacket off as he stepped out of his shoes. The blond moved to his belt as the redhead undid his tie and the buttons on his shirt. As she drew the starched white cotton off his shoulders, she made a little noise of surprise.
Doug looked at her and she smiled at him, her fingers tracing one of the tribal patterns on his shoulder. He looked down at the blond in time to watch her draw his fly down, his erection straining against his boxers. She smiled up at him, stroking her finger over the bulging cotton. The redhead stood behind him, sliding her hands into his waistband and taking both his slacks and boxers to the floor. He stepped out, totally naked, his penis jutting forth with arousal as the two women murmured in what sounded like French.
He started to say something, to ask their names or why they spoke French, but the blond dropped to her knees at that moment and slid her hand between his thighs, grasping his balls firmly. A husky groan ripped from his gut as she leaned forward to kiss the tip of his penis. He could hear the redhead moving around, but he couldn't think beyond the heat in his groin. Every drop of blood in his body pooled there as the blond wrapped her lips around his head and began to suck.
She slid his cock in and out of her mouth slowly, her eyes watching his reaction. The hand on his balls slowly squeezed in time, tightening as she drew him into her throat, then relaxing as she slid him free. Doug let his head fall back as he groaned again, his hand fisting as he fought the urge to push her head down further on his aching cock.
Hands on his shoulders made him jerk, but the light kiss along his spine told him it was the redhead. She massaged his shoulders, his upper arms, his back, sprinkling little kisses and licks over his skin, tantalizing him even as the blond began to suck. His eyes closed as he let himself drown in the pleasure. His hips moved to and away from the blond as she sucked him, still fondling his balls, and the redhead moved lower, kneading his hips, then his thighs.
Doug groaned, his knees getting weak, as the blond took a long draw on his rod and he felt his balls tighten. His whole body shook as the redhead began to massage his ass, her tongue flicking over his skin. He'd never imagined anything like this before...Another deep groan as the redhead's hand slid between his legs from behind and replaced the blonde's hand on his balls.
