The Phases of One's Life
Copyright© 2026 by N.D.Tomes
Chapter 37: Call Me Riko – Riko II.1 – Saturday(13 days til Reception)
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 37: Call Me Riko – Riko II.1 – Saturday(13 days til Reception) - A controlled corporate attorney wakes tied to her own bed by a naked stranger who knows her name and claims it’s “for your own good.” The young woman has been quietly tangled in her life for months—leaving signs, steering events, and creating a strange current between them. What follows is a tense night of revelations about the firm, the last six months, and unsettling supernatural abilities. Dry, first-person, focused on the emotional shift more than explicit detail.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Fa/ft Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Humor Group Sex Interracial Black Female White Male White Female Oriental Female Hispanic Female First Masturbation Oral Sex
I was punctual. Luckily one of my roommates—the one who owned a car—was working at the consulate that day. It was a short bus ride from there to Christodoulou-san’s apartment. At almost exactly ten o’clock I knocked on the door.
Daniels-san answered. “Takahashi-san, so nice to see you again. Come in. Daphne’s in the kitchen, as usual.”
I was momentarily taken aback. Kate wore only a sports bra that hugged her chest and low-ride sweatpants. I stammered, “N-Nice to see you again, Daniels-san.”
She gave me a short hug as I stepped inside. My mind registered soft yet firm. Reading my expression—or perhaps my earlier stare—she half-smiled, half-frowned. “Excuse the outfit. On weekends we get very informal. A few women friends come over; we talk, eat, drink. Everyone’s busy during the week—this is our day to relax and unwind.”
She led the way to the kitchen. I found myself staring at her swaying hips. This woman is a prominent lawyer, I thought again.
My stare was interrupted by Christodoulou-san exclaiming in Japanese, “Takahashi-san, right on time! I need to finish a couple of things here. Make yourself comfortable.”
Another woman emerged from the balcony. Daniels-san introduced her as Janice DuPont, her boss at the firm. Janice wore tight shorts and a very loose, low-necked t-shirt—no bra, the fabric barely covering her breasts.
At Kate’s earlier comment, Janice laughed and smiled at me. “Actually the opposite—I work for Kate.”
Daniels-san cut in, smiling. “Most people at the firm don’t see it that way.”
Christodoulou-san added, “Someone has to watch Daniels-san constantly. I have the job here; DuPont-san had it at the office. She’s a brilliant lawyer, but...” She finished by shaking her head.
DuPont-san came over and shook my hand. She explained she was a paralegal who worked for Daniels-san. Daniels-san interrupted again, addressing both of us. “You know what the new associates we just hired said about you? They wished they had a ‘lawyer’ like you teaching their contracts course. They think you’re a lawyer.”
DuPont-san said modestly, “It’s not my fault universities aren’t turning out better-prepared lawyers. They seem too busy teaching useless stuff nowadays.”
Just then a striking Black woman emerged from a back area, followed by another young woman laughing at something she’d said. Both were dressed like Daniels-san and DuPont-san. I couldn’t imagine them walking in public that way—I’d seen bikinis more modest.
They introduced themselves: Jane Robins and Sydney Brewster. Robins-san was older—about thirty, I thought. Brewster-san looked Christodoulou-san’s age. They both called me Takahashi-san. I returned their greetings using Robins-san and Brewster-san.
It hit me then: Christodoulou-san must have schooled the other women on greetings and how to address me. Having spent enough time in the US, I knew most people wouldn’t be familiar with Japanese etiquette. They were all making an effort to make me feel comfortable. I was very impressed.
All the women were pleasant and friendly. While waiting for Christodoulou-san, we talked. Robins-san was a police detective—I thought, a very young detective. Brewster-san would be attending an Ivy League university in the fall, studying aerospace engineering.
As we chatted, I quickly realized all the women were intelligent and accomplished. They poked fun at one another and laughed easily. The way they dressed still confused me, but they took it for granted. It was easy to see they were a close group. Yet they all seemed to defer to Daphne. I thought that strange—until I realized I was doing the same. Christodoulou-san simply had that air about her.
It appeared Christodoulou-san was almost done when another woman arrived—the oldest, if early thirties counts as old. She was just as beautiful, with striking ginger-red hair and perfect pale, almost porcelain skin. I began to feel self-conscious around these women.
The newcomer, Rachel Meadows, had just opened her own real estate firm. She proved just as pleasant and kind. She was dressed more conservatively—like she was heading to an office. She mentioned she had a showing that morning and another later. She also addressed me as Takahashi-san.
We all chatted in the kitchen area; they made sure to include me. Daphne joined in occasionally as she worked.
When Brewster-san asked about my university in Japan, I finally told the women to simply call me Riko.
As soon as I said it, Christodoulou-san let out a loud sigh and said to the group, “Good—you can all go to the balcony and start drinking. Proper respect has been paid.” Turning to me, she added, “And you deserve it.” Then, “I’d be honored if you would call me Daphne.”
Each woman politely asked me to use her given name, accompanying the request with a little bow. I returned each bow and said I’d be honored.
Kate was last. I couldn’t help noticing her breasts sway when she bowed. When she straightened, she turned to Daphne. “You didn’t need to threaten us. We understand custom and protocol.”
Daphne smiled sweetly. “I only said I’d cut off your alcohol. You know as well as I do that’s the best way to motivate this group.”
All the women except Kate made their way to the balcony, smiling and shaking their heads. I heard Sydney say to Jane, “She’s a fine one to talk.”
Daphne called out, “Shush you!”—trying not to laugh.
I had to smile. Everything clearly revolved around Daphne. I didn’t understand why.
Kate rolled her eyes. “I’d like to say you’ll get used to Daphne’s sense of humor, but even I’m still trying.”
Janice, by the balcony door, added, “And the rest of us have completely given up. Don’t let Kate fool you—she’s not much better.”
Kate frowned and shook her head. She told me the women always got together on Saturdays when they could. They found it relaxing—eating, talking ... Daphne jumped in: “And drinking.”
Kate glanced at the balcony where the women were settling into loungers. “And sometimes napping.”
Daphne chased Kate out, saying we had business to finish. She took off her apron, took a chair at the island counter, and nodded to the one next to her. I sat, and we started.
Over the next several hours we reviewed emails from the stores and talked with MOFA. The result: almost all our requests were being satisfied. A couple of minor issues could be cleaned up early next week. In my head I was already working on how to get everything here on time. We had been telling everyone to deliver to the ministry.
I told Daphne we could probably have the items here a few days before the Ambassador’s Reception. She replied, “I’ve already arranged for our dressers to pick up everything before they fly to Washington.” She said she had hired a kitsuke-shi from Japan to make sure we were dressed properly.
Daphne and I settled back in our chairs. Laptops closed, phones down. Kate must have noticed. She walked in and asked how things were going.
Daphne patted my hand. “Almost done—minor issues for Monday. This would have been impossible without Riko.”
I shrugged and asked Kate about her kimono. I had assumed she was wearing one too—we were ordering two of most things. Two of expensive things, especially the jewelry.
Kate looked confused. “I’m wearing an evening gown. I have a fitting Monday.”
It was my turn to look confused. I turned to Daphne; she wore the same expression. “Why are you ordering two of most things?”
Daphne, still confused, replied, “For you, of course.”
I told her I was not attending—I was only helping prepare and instruct on etiquette. She smiled indulgently. “I might not be Prince Shōtoku, but I already know how to bow and which fork to use. And we can keep a close eye on Kate.” Kate shook her head with a smirk.
Daphne explained it had all been arranged and agreed to by the embassy. I said I was unaware; she told me to check with the consulate Monday. I agreed—and said if so, there was a lot to organize. She replied there was nothing to arrange. Plane, hotel, everything was set. All I needed was to pack a bag and be ready when they picked me up for the airport.
I started rattling off things: What about the kimono? I’d need to find one, get fitted. Arrange a dresser at the embassy. Paperwork would take days—I’d talked with other women that had done this before. The more I talked, the more frantic I felt.
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