He watched me from the table nearby, a sinewy Japanese man accompanying two boys in their late teens. I’m not sure why he picked me to watch. I wasn’t the only woman in the hotel’s restaurant wearing a just bikini and a sarong, and certainly there were women there who were far lovelier than me. My dinner partner was very attentive, but not unusually so, certainly not with the slavish and attention-grabbing intensity of a submissive. I’m not a leggy blonde, a type of gaijin that Japanese men are notoriously susceptible to. My height and hair and eye color are that of a Japanese woman. Except I’m better padded. Perhaps that was it. My breasts.
I’ve been practicing belly-dancing for three years. I know how to shimmy, how to move my body to accentuate my breasts. I gave a little shimmy, almost a shiver, that made my breasts bounce. He looked my way for a long moment. So did a few others. I smiled at my dinner companion and told him what was going on. He grinned at me, reached out and tugged on a lock of hair dangling over my collarbone. He dropped his and and trailed his fingers along the line of my bikini top. I observed the Japanese man from under my lashes. He was most intent.
As a purveyor of ‘adult content’ I know about most kinks and fetishes, and I know what voyeurs Japanese men tend to be. Which works great for me, because I have a bit of an exhibitionist streak, and seeing as we were in Waikiki, some 3,000 miles from home, my lover seemed unconcerned about my exhibitionism and proclivity for three-ways and cuckoldry getting him ‘caught’ in an awkward position that might affect him professionally.
“Do you want to make someone’s year?” I asked my lover.
“What do you have in mind?” He asked, pursing his lips a little. His eyes, dark as my own, sparkled with mischief. I wanted to grab him by the chin and kiss his mouth, hard.
“If you manage to catch our friend over there away from his boys, perhaps you could invite him to join us tonite–as an observer.”
At this, my lover grinned. I saw his face change a bit as he mulled over how he would put it to the gentleman in question. His Japanese, though much better than mine, is far from fluent.
We finished our meal of seared ahi and macadamia encrusted mahi mahi and were sipping a nice wine when the boys at the nearby table stood up and walked away. I watched them head down the stairs toward the outdoors. The older Japanese man stood, too, and headed out of the restaurant, back toward the hotel.
I nodded at my lover, and he stood and followed the Japanese man. I slowly finished my glass of wine and paid the bill, then headed toward the elevators. A tingle ran down my spine, making my skin feel like an electric current was running over it. I do so love being a cocktease, an exhibitionist, and a domme, and I was every excited by the prospect of being all three at once.
Provided the two of them were awaiting me in my hotel room, of course.
If you want to know what happened next, I guess you’ll have to call and ask.
Empress Pamela
800-601-6975
YIM: Empress.Pamela
Email: Empress.Pamela@yahoo.com
