Chapter 10: Evening Visitors

Bangkok
Summer 2006
Three Weeks After Marriage

After supper Thursday evening, Sung got us both showered and dressed in short light robes - the type usually worn only in the bedroom, and not for long. It was early. He mentioned we were having visitors.

“This does not seem the proper attire for visitors,” I complained. Perhaps I complain too often, but this was serious. I was feeling a draft.

“Well, it is what is required, they are not the usual type of visitors. They are most unusual in fact. Keep your mind open, recall that hospitality is part of your beliefs, and show some trust in your husband.”

I am afraid I grumped a bit at that, it was either grump or worry, so I grumped. But I did as my husband asked.

Sung carefully explained that our visitors had agreed not to make contact with either of us unless both of us consented. Instead they were to demonstrate various sexual actions for my benefit. I was to ask questions and learn. They would bring instructional aids (sex toys) for me. If I wished I could use my husband to imitate the acts they showed me. I had read a fair amount, and had seen some videos, but for a physical skill Sung said there was really no substitute for a demonstration.

I could have waited a few years, but Sung said he wanted to get things going plus he had no idea where “quality” instruction might be found in Hong Kong. I was his wife, so I was obligated to learn. He had seen these two perform last year. He admitted that he had “been in the room,” when the pair brought 9 men to a simultaneous conclusion, but declined to be more specific. “It was a year ago, and every bank wanted to have a drinking-and-sex party on the expense account, it was part of the business. I could not decline. To be honest, my marriage saved me from such things this year, and I am concerned about next year.”

“What if I come to the seminars with you?”

“They will invite you along ... these guys are loath to miss a chance to party on the expense account, especially with an attractive regular female attached. You know they will all want a young hottie like you, and we must be nice to them. These are very important people. You recall your bank president, how he was around town? My students are a hundred times more powerful and full of themselves. There are an excess of real assholes in the mix.”

“How nice would I have to be?” I asked suspiciously. We both read a lot of stories where a wife was very-nice-while-naked to her husband’s business associates. He did not answer but looked embarrassed.

“Wait ... How about the first week of seminars this year, before you met me!” I asked.

“I plead the fifth,” he intoned. It was a phrase of great power.

I was not sure if he meant a fifth of his scotch or a fifth of bourbon (the American liquor) or some other liquor consumed at the bar where they partied. I heard Americans say it enough on TV shows and in movies so I figured they knew what it meant. It seemed “taking the fifth” in some way absolved Americans from remembering uncomfortable things, and it was even accepted in court! But I did not understand it yet. We moved on.

He said he did not tell me about the guests ahead of time because I would have been anxious, worried and upset. He was right. So now I was pissed instead. Then our guests arrived I showed them hospitality, which is part of my Faith as he well knew. Faith forbade me from showing how I felt.

Our guests arrived right on time. They looked like two very attractive young Thai ladies - the type who work at bars, and might not have been born female. This tested my Faith. I was close in my guess. At my husband’s invitation to make themselves comfortable they quickly disrobed to the skin. We saw the truth of it. They explained they were twins, born male and female. Not identical of course, but very similar in face and body; it was their thing. The gifts their Maker bestowed were enhanced with some small cosmetic surgeries so now they looked very much alike. They admitted they were “made-up” to look younger, they were in fact a decade older than my husband.

Jazz was male in every way from the waist down, with a hairless cock that always looked eager but well-behaved. But he was like a small-breasted female above the waist and from the back. His sister Minny was born female, with all parts as expected, and the parts seemed especially beautiful. She was the same height as her brother but with a curvier figure and natural medium breasts (largish for a Thai - bigger than mine). Somehow her face looked more masculine than Jazz, but I saw that was due to the makeup they each wore. The effect was intentional.

They were there for me, but not in the ways I was thinking; they were there to instruct me in oral and anal sex! I was occasionally enthusiastic about oral, but my husband cautioned that enthusiasm without skill was dangerous. They would teach me so I did not bite my husband. That seemed reasonable.

They were very nice. Sung had told them about my initial reaction to his face so they kidded about how they would have to charge a higher price if they did anything for my husband, saying, “we usually charge double for Koreans.” Sung laughed with them as he said he suspected that.

For me, they talked about a “ripe peach” in a nice way so I felt good but also uncomfortable. When they looked at me I felt desired. I had no makeup on, and it was obvious I was naked under the light silk robe. Jazz got partially erect when he first looked at me - the ultimate compliment but I did not know how to take that. They talked a bit between themselves for a moment and concluded they would be glad to spend an evening with me, pleasuring me, “no charge, either or both of us. Your husband can even watch.” Also, if I was ever looking for work, they could use the help.

I said they were very kind, but I was not interested. I also mentioned my cosmetic surgery, which my “new husband” had paid for (I wanted that clear) so we spent a minute talking of that. They asked Sung the names of my doctors and were very impressed. They were naked, and we had only the light robes, but otherwise is almost felt like a normal conversation.

Jazz admitted that his feminine looks were deliberate, and owed much to his sister’s skills with make-up. “In the clubs and bars where I work, oral is the most popular service because of the speed and ease. Also, many wives can’t or won’t do a good job for the husband. For a price, I will service them and none will be the wiser. Anal sex is a premium service so I can get more money, many men say it feels better than oral, especially better than bad oral, and for many there is no way they get anal from their wives, so they are glad to pay me extra for the novelty. I try to keep the obvious distraction out of sight. Most try not notice. Still, if they guess what is hidden sometimes it helps them. I charge much more if they touch it and some pay a great deal to do more than touch. Some even forget the anal sex and want to suck me! It is something else they can’t get from their wives. I can do both oral and anal as well as any woman can. However, we both believe that good vaginal sex is the best, especially if the woman is tight. Great oral is second best but that is so rare because it is hard to give, regular oral is favored only because of the novelty. Still, anal does have it’s attractions, the well turned bottom is always a draw; that is part of our DNA.”

Minny took over. “My brother is talking about the commercial part of our business, which is over 95% male clients. We work together so he sends customers who desire vaginal or bigger tits to me, and I charge more for the service. Now, in terms of a woman’s tastes, if I was in love with the man I would prefer him in my pussy most of the time. But anal sex is a nice change of pace on occasion if the woman is used to it, plus there may be a religious issue. The same with giving a man an oral climax. Also, if he is on a short fuse, the oral will get him off quickly, then you can enjoy and take your time with his vaginal climax. On the other hand, if he has cum a few times, but still has an erection in him, anal may be the only way to get the last bit of cum out of his balls. So, shall we begin? We would prefer to show you oral sex first.”

I had to break in. “Wait, are you saying that, because my husband will pay you, you will commit incest on each other? But that is a sin!”

Jazz responded calmly. “ ‘Sin’ is a religious term. Our religion does not recognize sexual happiness as a sin. Not being able to feed your child? That is a sin. Being homeless in a monsoon? That is a sin. Seeing your sister beaten by her worthless boyfriend because she can’t pay for his drugs? That is a sin. Imposing your beliefs on another? That is a sin ... in my Faith as well as yours. But two people who love each other, and do what they love, and harm no others? That is not a sin in our eyes. We have seen enough of the other. Now, talk of incest always leads to talk of children. But we are sure that will not happen between us. So, may we continue?”

I was a muslim in a nation where the overwhelming majority was buddhist, and I admit I knew very little of the ways of that religion, plus he was right about all he said. I bowed my head to his wisdom, put my concerns aside and paid attention to the lessons. As instructors they were very good. They suggested exercises, both with my husband and with some sex toys they gave me to practice with. Some looked like human male sex organs, including jelly rubber and hard glass cocks. Others were abstract training toys, like the series of graduated butt plugs and the interconnected balls he gave me for my butt.

As I worked with the toys they showed me tricks about breathing, fighting the gag reflex, and ‘pushing-out’ when a toy was placed at a bottom hole. (This was extremely embarrassing to watch and far worse to do while three people watched.) They both took their toy in, above and below, then they wanted to see me do it, so I blushed bright red, grabbed a small toy, and did it. I knew oral and anal sex was coming for me, these exercises were an important part of making it easy for me, but I did not like it.

Since I knew about strap-ons and such, I asked if my husband had ever “bent over and experienced” anal sex.

His reply was that he had, from two of the girls he lived with in college; they were into a practice he called ‘pegging’ where the man and woman exchanged roles for anal sex. With one girl, the deal was that if he did her butt then she did his butt. For the other girl it was rare, but sometimes she got in a mood and would not take “no” for an answer. It was not something he sought, but he did not avoid it either, and had found pleasure in the practice when the mood and partner fit.

Jazz mentioned a routine they used on occasion with with clients; they called in the “bar double quick.” The customer would fuck her vaginally, then she would peg his butt to revive his erection so he could then take her ass. It paid very well.

The attitude of our guests in presenting the material was so serious and sincere, I never felt the urge to laugh at them or judge them. They were helping me like they wanted to help me, so I could give myself to my husband as he deserved. I came to appreciate their words and demonstrations.

One question I had was about oral. “Will I be able to ‘throat’ my husband? I think he is too big.”

They showed me a jelly dildo, a realistic shape, that was clearly longer and wider than my husband’s erection. Their mouths were not obviously different from mine. Both took the dildo into their throat all the way and held it for more time than I imagined possible. They each explained, while the other demonstrated, the various keys to this act. The gag reflex and breathing were the main concerns; these would take some time to master.

It was a lot to take in, I took many notes and when I was done my husband showed me how he had recorded the presentation on his computer. (He had their permission; I was pissed because he did not have my permission. But when I had my first anal sex I thanked him.)

With their helpful comments, I did take my husband’s cock into my mouth, getting the entire head and perhaps half of the shaft in. Then with a toy (a thin rod with a ball on the end) I worked to trigger, and overcome, the gag reflex that kept me from taking it deeper. This was a great improvement over what I had done earlier, I was over the first and most important of several steps for the deep oral sex my husband desired from my very tempting mouth. When Sung took his cock out of my mouth he said it had been a close thing, seeing how deep he was took him very close to the edge.

I asked, as long as he was close, did he want to climax in my mouth? I knew I could not take him deep, but it seemed a reasonable suggestion, something I could do that would please him. I thought having Minny and Jazz watch might help with any problems dealing with the output.

They thought it was a wise idea and made a suggestion about positioning. Then I took my husband’s cock in my mouth again.

He was excited and aroused and very grateful for my willingness.

I took him as deep as I could, then started to move him in and out. Minny had some ideas that made it much better for him and easier for me - I began to enjoy it. Then she instructed me on how my tongue could pleasure him inside. As I those things Sung held tight onto the chair and his face showed his struggle to contain himself. Under his breath he was praising me!

They had showed me how pressing a finger into the man’s anus was likely to trigger a climax if I needed to “get it over with.” But Sung did not need that. When he was on the edge he let me know. He was willing to withdraw but as our guests watched I bravely encouraged him to let me take his full climax in my mouth. He was looking into my eyes with some wonder and much pleasure as he took his release, feeding his oral climax to me for the first time. He fired his first pulse at the deepest point, then withdrew into my mouth to ejaculate the rest. I can’t say the taste was great, but the emotion of his release was, to him, what my first climax was to me: wonderful! It did not take long, but there was a lot of his stuff to cope with and it was messy. Jazz and Minny applauded.

I was pleased that I took almost all of his sperm in my mouth. I only missed the last few shots, which got on my face and my chest. Minny whispered that a little “uncontrollable overflow” pampered a man’s ego so I was not to worry about it. If it dripped on my breast that was even better, because somebody might offer to clean it up. She looked like she was willing, I considered it but I was not ready for that.

To my surprise, Sung eagerly helped by licking up the spillage from my lips, cheek chin and breast. His licks were punctuated with praises for me. Then he went a step farther and kissed me, passionately and deeply, while I still had his stuff in my mouth. I did not know what to do with that kiss, but Jazz just told me to “go with it, let him have some sweetness,” so I did. We played, it felt a little like children with a new toy. Jazz said that a man “kissing after” was a sincere sign of appreciation and respect, and should be treasured. Sung blushed at that. I realized that it meant he loved me a little.