I was driving back to the house I shared with my dad after another night of failed attempts of getting action. Since my divorce three months earlier, I haven't fucked a wet pussy, so I got out early and went with some pals to the city to try our luck in getting some action -- unfortunately we were out of luck that night. In fact, my plan was to avoid the party my dad was giving to his most important client Mr. Wang, so at least part of the night was good.
My dad moved with me after my divorce to transform my house - which I was lucky to keep after the divorce thanks to those blessed pre-nups -- into a bachelor pad. In reality it became a bachelor fortress. My mother died a few years before and my dad finally realized he was still young (he was in his mid fifties) and that he had grieved enough. He was a successful marketing executive, so soon enough my house became the party central to entertain his clients -- every weekend there was some client to entertain. Since I am in architecture and engineering, his parties soon became a bore to me and I took the basement as my bachelor pad and left him the other three floors. To help myself get some sleep during the weekends, I soundproofed my part of the house and even provided a separate entryway so I did not have to deal with his guests. Only the stairs of the first floor where both had our offices connected to my part of the house.
When I got home I noticed that it was quiet as I expected. It was already 3 in the morning, and usually the parties ended one or two hour earlier. I drove the car to my private driveway and went into my floor. My floor was designed as one of those city flats -- the only walls in the 2,500 square feet apartment were the bathroom enclosure. The rest was open space with furniture and rugs delimiting the areas for living room, bedroom, kitchen, and dining area. Since no one ever went to the basement -- not even my dad - I did not notice something at first. There was someone on my bed!
I called the person out, but got no response. I got closer to wake up the intruder and kick his ass out of my floor when I realized the intruder was a woman. She had a red and golden Chinese dress with a slit that showed her well formed legs up to her waist. She was short, no more than five feet-two inches tall and from her dress and shoes, she was of a high social position. Her black hair was in elaborated buns with no hair undone. She was lying on her stomach and the tight dress drew her figure perfectly. Her small round ass looked fabulous and her body was in great shape. I looked at her face and recognized no other than Mrs. Wang.
What the hell was she doing on my bed? She was one of the reasons I avoided my dad's parties. Most of his clients guys in their sixties and seventies who loved to show their trophy wives -- women who could be their daughters. These women were often horny as fuck and cheated their rich but old husbands with whoever could keep an erection -- gardeners, butlers, delivery guys, anyone. Many times they had insinuated me, and I ended fucking two or three when I was younger while their husbands were playing golf with my old man. But Mrs. Wang was different. I met her during a business meeting my dad asked me to go with him. She was around 25 and the definition of a proper Asian wife -- cult, well educated, shy with strangers, and extremely proper. She won't speak unless her 65 years old husband allowed her to do so and unlike the other trophy wives I had met before, Mrs. Wang always treated her husband with respect and admiration -- almost love. The night I met her I could not take my eyes away from her and I remember jerking off twice fantasizing on fucking her. So, what the fuck was she doing on my bed? More importantly, how did she get there? No one ever went downstairs -- it was the basement after all - and even my dad barely went to my part of the house. We usually talked either on the first floor where our offices were or on the main floor where the entertaining happened. I sat on the bed next to her and noticed the big empty champagne bottle on the floor. One glass with some lipstick on it was on the night table, so apparently Mrs. Wang drank the whole thing. I knew she would be completely out at least for a few hours and that she would wake up with a hell of a hangover. She was totally dressed, so I assumed she was looking for a quiet place to drink her champagne and found the stairway.
She looked so sexy, sleeping on my bed that my mind began to run. There was a young, attractive Chinese woman on my bed, completely passed out and I was horny as hell with a three months need for pussy. She was the subject of my wildest sexual fantasies, and there she was, ready and available to be fucked at will for at least four or five hours. Even if she woke up, no one would hear upstairs-- the whole floor was sound proofed and her husband, if he stayed in the house, was on the third floor, too far away to hear her screams anyway. My cock was reacting to my thoughts, getting hard as steel within seconds forming an obscene tent on my trousers. Just in case, I made sure both the main entrance and the staircase door were closed: I wanted to enjoy the moment with Mrs. Wang.
