Chapter 4: Iku Tanaka solo

It was a week after the three-way with Mai and the Japanese wife and client, Iku Tanaka, and reality was cutting through the fog inside my brain. The incredible happenings of that surprise orgy, plus the extra $2.5 million it brought into the firm, were replaced by the unalterable fact that my wife, Nguyet, would be returning in two weeks from Vietnam after her forty-nine days there in mourning for her mother’s death.

The problem I had ignored so easily as I fucked Mai, who was bent on revenge against my wife, Nguyet and then engaged in the threeway with her and a Japanese female client hadn’t miraculously disappeared. It was inevitable that Nguyet would discover I was fucking my secretary, Mai and more. They say hell has no fury like a woman scorned, and I saw divorce and subsequent financial ruin as I had no prenup if I chose Mai, or Mai’s vengeance if I stayed with Nguyet. And lately, even the intense sex that Mai gave me was failing to cover the growing inclination I had that she had aggressive and controlling psychopathic tendencies. I was beginning to worry about the future. In particular and most importantly, my future.

I half-heartedly opened my text messages and ignored the spam which somehow always found me. Some people say visiting dodgy sites increases the amount, but I don’t want to believe that and stop clicking on them. I nearly opened one message from a 25-year-old Russian woman who professed to love me, but one of the remaining emails leapt out. It was from Iku Tanaka, and I opened it fearing that with my present luck, she was probably withdrawing her personal investments from my firm’s management portfolio, or even worse, taking all the $2 million Tanaka business elsewhere, leaving me only with the memories of the threeway.

I opened the message, and it said, “Need to talk to you. Meet me at the same place as before 12.30 pm today.” I finished reading, but my worries hadn’t changed.

At 12.30, I walked into the Royal Hotel dining room, and Iku was already there. She wore a simple dress, not her business wear and her hair loose, instead of styled, with her makeup minimal. At forty-two, she didn’t have a typical Japanese body, and my eyes automatically gravitated to her full 34C tits mounted on her slender body. I hoped to see her huge nipples pointing at me, but they must have been encased in an ornate, firm Japanese bra, so I could only imagine them and her monstrous clit. However, I was relieved to see her eyes light up when she saw me approach. I hoped that she was only going to withdraw half her investment money.

“Mr Sullivan,” she greeted me, then immediately corrected herself. “I’m sorry, but after everything we’ve shared, may I call you by your first name, and you, mine now?”

“Of course, Iku,” I replied hoping this was the start of a better meeting than I had feared. She smiled, and my relief solidified, and my other problem with Nguyet vanished from my head.

“Richard, I need to tell you something,” she said quietly. “My husband has encountered some Japanese businessmen in Surfers Paradise.” I nodded my head and thought, Ah, Surfers Paradise on the Gold Coast in Queensland, the main destination for Japanese tourists in Australia. This was not-to-be-an unexpected happening.

I tuned back in on what Iku was saying. “And it appears as if Surfers Paradise has catered for Japanese men and has Soaplands, Love hotels, Pink Salons and Hot Springs just like in Japan. When they discovered that, I was surplus to requirements, so I came back to Melbourne before I return to Japan.” She looked into my eyes, reached across the table and held my hand. “But before I return, I want and need something. A final session to carry me through.”

Total relief spread through me, covering me like a warm blanket. She wasn’t withdrawing the money. “Of course. We can arrange it. I’ll talk to Mai. I’m sure she’ll agree to another threeway. We could,”

“Actually,” Iku cut in, and her fingers gripped mine more tightly. “I was thinking of one less person.” Her words hung in the air while my brain slowly processed that, and my mouth opened, but no words came out.

“One less person,” she repeated, her eyes locked on mine. “Things changed in that hotel room. Yes, it was everything I wanted and even more than I had dreamed of, and it changed me. But then, when, in the days after, when I replayed and replayed that weekend in my mind, my thoughts crystalised into certainty. The first important thing was that you saw me as a woman. You praised the size of my clit, something I was secretly ashamed of, were amazed by my nipple thickness and length, and proudly held my heavy tits as you evaluated them. That those last two things are not what a businesswoman should have has been constantly thrown in my face. It is why I previously dressed in a way that hid them. Yet you looked at me as more of a woman than Mai. Is that true?”

Without thinking of the consequences, I nodded, and she continued. “Thinking clearly afterwards, I realised that when we fucked, we had a special connection. Who made you hard after the first time you unloaded in me, or in that final shower? It was me. Did you know your cock spent more time in me and emptied your balls into me 12 times more than you did in Mai? Do you remember my continual moans and your groans as your cock plundered my cunt as it tried to pleasure you? I could go with more examples, but it is undeniable we have a unique bond.”

She paused and hesitated as if unsure to continue. She took a deep breath and continued. And finally, there is Mai. At first, I enjoyed the sex with her and thought she was participating completely, but when thinking back, things stood out. Things like her comments about me being an older woman, efforts to distract you from me, or change the activity so that you had to service her, not me. I saw she was trying to show you that she was better than me, trying to be the centre of attention and not being an equal participant but using us to show she was better.”

She continued after gathering her thoughts, “That, plus when I analysed my feelings over those days and nights, I realised they had changed. I realised I didn’t like sharing you, especially with Mai. I felt lost without you making love to me and wanted you to feel that I was your woman.” With tears in her eyes, she pleaded, “That is why I want only you and me tomorrow. Do you understand and want that, or am I just a foolish older woman?”

As she finished speaking, her other hand moved under the table, and she groaned when she felt my hard cock through my trousers. I had not just thrown Mai under a bus but thrown her under a fucking long freight train travelling at express speed. But hell, that is what I do. I can betray someone in my sleep and do it without breaking into a sweat.

Iku’s tears dried, and she moved on to the details, saying she would come to the office later today. There, she would explain she urgently had to go back to Japan, and I would get Mai to drop her off at the airport supposedly to catch a flight to Tokyo. The next day, I would ‘go out all day and evening on business, maybe at a golf day at a country club’, but in reality, we would be together in the same hotel suite as before, with Mai convinced Iku was back in Tokyo.

At midday, Iku entered my office. This time, I concentrated on Mai’s reactions and watched her unobtrusively lift the waistband of her mini skirt higher, before going to the washroom. When she returned, I noticed she walked in a way that showed she had removed her thong. Iku started her spiel, telling the truth about her reason for leaving Surfers Paradise.

Mai interjected, nodding her head as though considering her thoughts out loud. “Stands to reason. When the wife is older, the mice will play and look for someone who dresses more provocatively.” She gave a little pirouette and her flared mini rose to flash her naked slit ‘accidentally’ at Mai.

Speaking directly to Mai she said, “We girls have to stick together, so if you had time, I would have taken you out shopping and updated your wardrobe and covered your flaws. Ah well, if you must catch your flight, there will be no time for that, so perhaps when you return.”

I saw Iku’s jaw tighten, but nothing else happened, and Mai drove Iku to the airport. When she returned, I gave her the bad news. The government’s overseas investment laws department had just phoned wanting a junket, spending taxpayer’s money to host a seminar at the 45-hole luxury Yarrawonga Mulwala Golf Club tomorrow and the next day. I bullshitted on about the short notice, telling Mai it was because they hoped few people would attend and they could play more golf and have less people get early knowledge of proposed changes to the laws.

Of course, I am no fool. I booked into the golf club and sent my go to fixer/gofer, who did things like debt collecting and getting dirt on people I needed leverage on, up there for 2 days of golf. I hoped he liked golf or waterskiing because at 250 km from Melbourne, there was little else to do there. If Mai phoned the club, I would have arrived but would be unobtainable.

So, at 7am the next day (after all, it is a long drive to Yarrawonga, so I presumably had to leave early), I was being let into room 2407 at the Grand hotel for the second time by Iku. This time, I was there alone without Mai but accompanied by a slight tinge of conscience. Not about Mai, but that the staff might remember me. She was dressed in nothing but the hotel’s plush white terry-towelling robe, tied loosely at her waist. It was top quality and I made a mental note to smuggle a couple out. Her black hair was damp and tousled as if she’d just stepped out of the shower, and a nervous smile was on her plain, round face as her worried eyes scanned me.

I smiled reassuringly, stepped in, kicked the door shut behind me with my heel and reached out and held her. I had been practicing that move and I think, without boasting, I hit it out of the park. She snuggled closer, and if she was a cat, she would have been purring.

My hands found the loose tie of her robe, and with a quick tug, it fell open, sliding off her shoulders to restl at her feet. There she stood, completely naked, her body bringing back memories from the threeway. Her skin was smooth and pale compared to my wife Nguyet or Mai, both Vietnamese. But it was her tits, as always, that grabbed my attention first. She was a slim 5 ft 3, but these were way out of proportion. They were natural 34C handfuls, heavy and pendulous things that sat high on her chest, yet somehow, they were still firm and not hanging. I took in her wide dark areolae that circled nipples that were simply unreal and the biggest I had seen. They were thick as her thumb, protruded at least an inch and were already stiff and quivering and begging to be touched and sucked.

My gaze drifted lower, over the gentle swell of her belly, past her hips, to her strong thighs. She parted them, and I was gobsmacked. Her cunt was no longer the jungle of tangled curls that I’d buried my face in two weeks ago. It was completely shaven and smooth as silk, exposing her treasures, which I kew I was going to have.

She reached down and unfurled her four, long, prominent, dangling, crinkled cunt lips that were already slick and wet with arousal. They framed her entrance perfectly, but what shocked me most was her clit. As I watched, it pushed its inadequate hood aside, and the monstrous, grape-sized bundle of nerve endings jutted out proudly and throbbed. Shaving her slit had made it the centrepiece and star of the show.

“Jesus, Iku,” I muttered, eyes locked on the throbbing beast. “Your clit looks incredible now you have shaved, but what made you do that?”

She smiled, a mix of shyness and pride in her eyes, “After our time together, I wanted to feel new. I’ve always been ashamed of its size, but you praised it, made me feel desired. So, I shaved to let it stand out, to feel your mouth on it without anything in the way.”

Understandably, by this time, my cock was practically breaking my zipper, and she noticed and gasped. Then she tentatively reached down to my fly and let the monster free. Breathing rapidly and full of anticipation for what was to come, she watched me undress, and then I gave Iku her first shock. She had been expecting to be roughly pounded as she had on those two days, but I knelt before her on the hotel carpet, luxurious deep pile in this expensive suite, gripped her thighs, opened her slit and extended my tongue. I leant into her shaved cunt and started slowly and gently.

There was no need to rush as I had all day and night, so I started by tracing my tongue the length of her long labia, lapping slowly from bottom to top, feeling how they dangled and quivered from the touch. She was already wet, her arousal coating my tongue in a thick, slick layer, with more seeping out as I explored, dripping down my face onto her inner thighs.

I focused on her massive, pulsing clit next, circling the visibly swollen, jutting sex bud lightly with the tip of my tongue, tracing it back to its hood, then returning to its broad tip to flick its exposed nub. I kept the pressure light but steady as my tongue traced its quivering size. It reacted, swelling even more as I worked it and felt it pulse against my tongue as the blood surged through it, becoming harder and more sensitive with each lick.

Next, I alternated techniques from broad, flat strokes that covered the entire clit, to quick little attacks with my tongue’s tip to make it twitch and throb harder. In between, I sucked it gently between my lips without pulling too hard, causing more of her wetness to escape and flood my chin.

Iku gasped, her hands gripping my hair as she let out long, low moans and wailed, “Oh, Richard, that’s so good, yes, right there.” I have summarised what she almost incoherently said between gasps and moans, but that is roughly what she meant. Her voice was interspersed with whimpers as her arousal increased, but I was in control and wouldn’t let her cum, just made sure she became more aroused and worked up. Her hips started to slide her pussy up and down against my face, trying to chase and maximise the spots that affected her most, and seeking to grind her clit against my tongue and achieve extra friction. Her wetness still escaped, soaking my mouth and neck, and I could hear the wet sounds of my licking mixing with her ragged breaths.

Every so often, I pulled my head away just enough to praise her. “So big and responsive and throbbing. It’s so much bigger than Mai’s or my wife’s.”

Without breaking my tonguing rhythm on her cunt, I reached up with both hands, sliding them over her belly to her heavy tits, cupping their weight and feeling how firm they were despite her age and their size. My fingers gently stroked and kneaded her tit flesh, thumbs circling the wide, rough-textured dark areolae that were already puckered with arousal. I rolled her thumb-thick nipples between my fingers, making them stiffen even further while my tongue kept lapping at her throbbing clit.