Businessman And An Asian Maid

A big business suite at a high-end hotel in Hanoi. Or it could be another East Asian city. The grind of business, of flights, of meetings all grind together into one after a while.

I'm doodling on my pad, waiting for the chairman to wrap up this meeting so I can get out, grab a drink, seek some excitement. It's been a long trip.

Others are restless too, there's a sense of closing up. Across the big boardroom table, I'm sure I see the door handle move a little. It moves again. I see part of a face when it inches ajar. 'The maid might be cute', I wish to myself. You like cute. You like Asians. You like ladies. You especially like cute Asian ladies, I easily remind myself.

"That's all, gentlemen." Chairs scrape, papers shuffle, briefcases snap shut. Goodbyes all round. The maid - you - slips in and starts to clear up in the corner.

Mmm, I think as I see her - your - shape from behind. Perfectly petite. She'd fit nicely.

You must've sensed my glance over as you look over your shoulder, catch my eye and smile shyly.

Yet there's something there I see. A hint? A glint? A micro-expression which gives me the excuse to dally.

I pretend to read messages on my phone until I'm the last suit in the room. You move to tidy around the table, taking cups and plates, each time taking the ones closer to where I'm standing.

I'm standing close to the table, a little deliberately, in the hope that you will- and you do squeeze into the gap. You're slender, and your uniform is tight around you as you brush against me.

You pick up the cups and look up at me. Your eyes say what I'm hoping - daring - to read:

"I'm willing to be *used*"

That's all the signal I need. You move back to the counter, looking back at me in anticipation as I purposely place my jacket on my chair and take off my tie.

You're only at the counter for a second when you sense me behind you. You stay at the spot as I press myself against you, causing you to let out a sigh as you arch your back.

That's another signal and I firmly hold you by the shoulders, nuzzling your neck, letting you sense my strong desire to have you in this moment.

This cheap uniform you're wearing is perfect, in one go I can zip-strip it off your frame and admire your bare back - you're not wearing a bra, you tanned temptress, almost as if you *knew* some Western businessman would strip you bare today...

And strip you I do until you're purely, perfectly naked. I stand back to take a look at you, as you perch provocatively on the counter, putting a finger to your mouth and then to your neatly trimmed pussy.

Still, no words are exchanged as I drag you to that big boardroom table. Not to the nearest point, no. but to where I was sitting. Exactly opposite the door - so that should anyone open it, the first thing they'll see is...

Your face straining in pleasure as you're bent over, being fucked.

Yes, that's the plan. I bend you over while I unzip and drop my trousers, manoeuvre my stiffening tool out of my pants - but not before I duck down for a quick inspection of your quivering pussy lips, those lips waiting to be prised - splayed apart...

You feel the cold table against your nipples as I slide my shaft in. What would your manager say if they came in now and saw you? You turn your face to one side but uh-uh, I tug your hair back and *firmly* thrust the full length of me into your pussy, lifting you until you're on your toes - to-to-toes as I start the rhythm: thrust-thrust-*fuck*-thrust, you're being *banged*, you're going to be my cum bucket when I'm done, feel my balls hitting the underside of you as you pant- pant-pant.

Yes, try and dig your nails into the table, scratch it as I fuck you firmer, harder, fuller, faster, faster, faster, you fucking love this, it's what you were born to be, a maid servant, a slave, a *slut* as I shoot my hot load inside you, gripping your smooth cheeks as I rely on my muscle to finish, to come out, spin you back to face me as I want to see that cum dripping out of your pussy.

My cum, your pussy. Get used to it.