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Anal

Copyright © June 2021 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author’s Notes

This is a sixth part to the series. Although it is self-contained from a story perspective, I would recommend you read the earlier chapters as there will be references which make more sense if you have read the earlier parts.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

With the sun setting over the country cabin, and young Kirsten’s almighty high still fresh in the mind, back in the city another young woman was embarking on her own night of passion, not that she knew it yet.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

There was already a reddish hue to the evening sky as the limo left the crowds of theatregoers behind and headed off through the city streets.

“Mandarin, sir?” the chauffeur asked.

“Sure thing, Sanjoy,” Mukesh responded.

“No problem, sir. Be there in five.”

“No rush,” came Mukesh’s reply. “The evening’s young.”

“The Mandarin, Mukesh? You mean the Mandarin Hotel?” Sophiya asked, her questions both inquisitive and surprised in tone.

The Mandarin was the place to be, and to be seen. For most, it was that glassy skyscraper, the one which was out of reach to all but the wealthiest, but now Sophiya was heading there for her birthday dinner. She’d heard about the place and how fantastic it was meant to be, but never did she think she would be eating there.

“Is that where we’re going?” Sophiya continued, excitement taking over from surprise.

There was no response from Mukesh. There didn’t need to be. The limo pulled off the road and up onto the forecourt of the glass fronted skyscraper. The uniform of the hotel porter who greeted the limo, told Sophiya what she already knew. It was the Mandarin. For one night only, it was her Mandarin.

“Oh, Mukesh, you’re the best,” Sophiya exclaimed, landing a smacker on her husband’s cheek, and leaving a tantalising touch of red lipstick behind.

Sophiya quickly rubbed away the hint of red from Mukesh’s cheek then turned towards the limo door, just in time to see it open in front of her.

“Good evening, ma’am,” came the cheery greeting of a dark-suited middle-aged man in a peaked cap, as he held the car door open.

Without thinking, buoyed on by the excitement of being at such a prestigious hotel, Sophiya shuffled around in her seat and put one foot on the floor. It was only as she brought the other leg around and felt the chill of the evening air on her upper thighs, that she remembered how short her dress was. Immediately, Sophiya brought her legs together and glanced up at the porter.

Had he seen everything? Had he seen the tantalising inches of bare leg where her stay-ups came to an end? Had he seen her black panties? The porter smiled back at her, holding out a gloved hand. Sophiya took his hand and pulled herself up off the leather seat of the car. If the guy had seen everything, then he was being thoroughly professional about it. In her mind though, she was sure he must have done.

Moments later, with Mukesh standing at her side, Sophiya put the thought to the back of her mind.

“Checking in?” the porter asked.

“Here for dinner,” Sophiya replied.

“Follow me then. Which restaurant, and do you have a reservation, or do you need me to check availability for you?”

This time it was Mukesh who answered, as the three of them walked into the hotel lobby.

“Shintori,” he replied. “In the name of Khan, Mukesh Khan.”

“Very good, Mr Khan. Why don’t you and Mrs Khan take a seat in the lounge and I’ll check that we are ready for you. Would you like me to take your jacket, ma’am?”

Sophiya looked at the porter, then at her husband. A smile grew across her face, as she thought about showing him just what he had paid for earlier in the day. She held her breath for a moment, wondering if he would like the dress or not. There was only one way to find out.

Sophiya undid the buttons on the front of the plain black jacket and slipped it off her shoulders. To say she had made an entrance was an understatement. Mukesh couldn’t stop staring at her choice in dress, and the teasing glimpses of bare flesh beneath those mesh panels. She couldn’t be sure, but in her mind Sophiya could also feel the porter’s eyes burning down on her as he ogled the same from behind.

Without thinking, Sophiya spun around, intent on catching him in the act. All she succeeded in doing though was making the dress splay out wide. The porter, well, just as before he was ever the professional, taking the jacket with a courteous smile then heading off in the direction of the canlı bahis reception desk. There was no glance back from him, no sneak peek over his shoulder at the wondrous beauty who had just disrobed in front of his eyes.

Inside, Sophiya was a tad disappointed. Had she failed to make the entrance she expected? Was the dress not as perfect as she hoped it would be? It was her darling Mukesh, one arm now wrapped around her waist, who set her straight.

“You look stunning, Mrs Khan,” he whispered softly into Sophiya’s ear. “Beautiful dress for a beautiful lady… oh… and love the stockings.”

Sophiya blushed slightly. She knew better than to go spinning around in that short dress, yet she had done just that, flashing at least the tops of her stockings at her darling husband and whoever else might have been watching. Then again, she did feel fantastic in this racy little black number, and was it so bad to give her darling husband some excitement, to get his blood pressure up a little?

Tonight, might have been her night, but this dress was all about him and giving the right impression. Play your cards right and he won’t be able to resist ripping it right off her body, or so Sophiya hoped.

“Now, how about a drink?” Mukesh continued, taking Sophiya by the hand and leading her towards the cocktail lounge.

No sooner had they taken a seat than a smartly dressed waiter approached them. Unlike the mature presence of the porter, the waiter had a much more youthful look. He couldn’t have been long out of college.

“Good evening, ma’am… sir… can I be getting you something?”

Sophiya was still pondering the cocktail menu, when Mukesh responded.

“Champagne. A bottle of your finest for this beautiful young lady.”

Sophiya blushed again as she watched the waiter turn towards her.

“Yes, sir. Coming right up, sir,” came the response from the waiter.

All the time, as he addressed Mukesh, the young lad’s eyes never moved away from Sophiya’s racy outfit. This time Sophiya did notice. It was her turn to play the professional card though, to act like she hadn’t seen anything. She smiled at the waiter. She didn’t say anything, but the smile alone told the waiter that she had clocked him having a good look.

Any other night she may have played along a little, but tonight she thought better of it though. This night, of all nights, there was only one person she wanted to please and that was her darling Mukesh. As the waiter walked off into the distance, it was Sophiya’s turn to ask.

“Do you really like the dress, Mukesh?” she asked, running her hands over her waistline as if to emphasise the tight fit.

“I told you, didn’t I, Mrs Khan. You look stunning.”

“And… the stockings too?” she continued.

As she asked, Sophiya slipped off a heel and started to run her shoeless foot up her silk clad leg. All the time, the dress rose along with Sophiya’s foot. This time though it was by design rather than by accident. Sophiya’s eyes never left Mukesh’s, and his… well… Mukesh’s stare never left her legs. He watched as inch after inch of sumptuous black silk became visible, his gaze strengthening as solid black silk gave way to lacy elastic, before ending with a few inches of bare skin, and just a glimpse of black panties.

It was only a glimpse, Sophiya’s teasing coming to an end as she spotted the waiter returning with a bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. It may have just been a teasing flash of her panties, but from the way Mukesh was still staring at her legs, she knew she had grabbed his attention. That was all she had intended. If he had other ideas, then he would have to wait until they got back home, but for now he had a good idea of what could be on offer.

“Let me open it for you, sir. Would you like to taste some to see if it is of your liking?” the waiter asked.

“Mmmm, I’d love to taste…” Mukesh started to reply.

His stare never left Sophiya’s now closed legs. A combination of imagination—in his mind, Mukesh was still thinking of those the inches of soft flesh where the stay-ups ended—and the suggestive idea of having a taste, had distracted Mukesh from matters in hand. All he could think about was tasting something sweet, something juicy, something currently hidden behind—

“… the champagne!” Sophiya butted in, finishing off his sentence before he could say anything else. She knew exactly what Mukesh had on his mind and the thought of it set her pulse racing, but here, in public, in the most exclusive of hotels, was not the time nor the place.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, addressing the young waiter. “My husband seems to have something on his mind.”

At that moment, as if for emphasis, Sophiya repositioned her legs, uncrossing then crossing them again, giving Mukesh, and most likely the young waiter, another glimpse up her dress. The smile on Mukesh’s face said it all.

“He’d love to try some,” Sophiya continued, smiling up at the waiter. “What about you? Would you like to try a little too?”

“No… no…” the bahis siteleri waiter stuttered, an embarrassed warmth in his cheeks as he quickly uncorked the bottle then poured a little into a glass. The young lad couldn’t leave quickly enough after Mukesh had given the thumbs up to the chilled fizz.

“Now, where were we?” Sophiya asked her husband as she watched the waiter walk off into the distance. “Oh, yes, I remember. I was asking you if you liked my stockings.”

Once more she teased her husband with a quick glimpse up her dress as she repositioned her legs again. Once more he simply sat there, staring. It was a rhetorical question. She already knew he loved stockings, yet it was so exciting to tease him this way. It was just like fishing. She was dangling the bait in front of his eyes and waiting to see whether her darling husband would bite.

Sophiya had done the same earlier in the day, wiggling her ass as she walked into the shower room. Oh yes—Sophiya smiled as she remembered her earlier orgasm—Mukesh had taken her bait alright. He always did, and that’s the way she liked it. Now though, she could imagine what was going through his mind. The dress alone would have got him all excited, those mesh panels giving glimpses of bare flesh beneath. Then there was the quick flash of stockings and panties? Was it his fault? She was the one being a tease. She was the one with the insatiable appetite. Mukesh? Well, Mukesh just had the knack of knowing quite how to satisfy her every need.

There was just one more problem… champagne always made her horny as hell, and here she was quaffing the hotel’s finest. Just who was the tease, now? Yes, she’d started it all, flashing her sumptuous legs at him, but he had bought the champagne. Mukesh knew what it did to her, yet still he’d bought the bottle, and still she was drinking it.

By the time the porter returned to say that the restaurant was ready for them, Sophiya was ready for something else… a little appetiser before the main course. So, who had been teasing who? Was it all Sophiya’s doing or was Mukesh an equal partner in crime?

Moments later, the lift doors slid shut. It was just Sophiya, Mukesh, and however long it would take to reach the thirtieth floor. No sooner had the ‘going up’ announcement faded into nothingness, than Sophiya was up on tiptoes planting a soft kiss on her husband’s lips. This time she didn’t wipe away the lipstick as she jumped back and gave him another twirl, even faster than the earlier one.

Her intention was nothing more than to flash her sexy legs at her husband, and if that meant he got to see her knickers as well, then so be it. What she didn’t expect, as she stumbled to a halt, was the response from her calm and unmoved husband. Mukesh simply stood there, watching, but showing no emotion.

“Well, Mrs Khan. If you’re so eager to show me your panties, why don’t you give them to me.”

“Wh… what?”

“You heard. Right here, right now. Take them off and hand them over.”

“But…”

“But… nothing. We’re already on floor fifteen, so I suggest you get on with it, unless you want to take them off in the restaurant.”

Sophiya turned and glanced at the bright green numbers. Fifteen… sixteen… seventeen… by eighteen she was already hiking the hem of her dress up, looping her fingers around the waistband of her panties, and easing them down.

Nineteen… twenty…

With her back towards Mukesh, and her black panties around her knees, Sophiya bent over at the waist to ease them down over her heels. Whether she could see through the mirror or not, Mukesh had a huge smile on his face, as huge as the smile of her snatch as the dress lifted high at the back. From his position, Mukesh had the most delightful view.

Twenty-five… twenty-six…

Sophiya was panicking a little now. The floors seemed to be coming quicker and quicker as she struggled to unhook her panties from her high heels. She was wiggling on one foot, trying to free the other, wobbling as the lift started to slow.

Twenty-nine…

Thirty…

As the ‘doors opening’ announcement started to ring out in her ears, Sophiya stood up and smoothed out her dress again. Quickly she turned around, went back on tiptoes, and planted another kiss on Mukesh’s lips.

“Happy now,” she whispered as she passed the skimpy black garment from her hand to his.

“Very happy,” came his reply as the doors finally slid open. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll look after these,” he continued, slipping the panties into his trouser pocket.

It was a much more careful Sophiya who followed her husband out of the lift and into the restaurant. She could feel, or at least she could imagine, everyone staring at her as she walked along in her racy dress, the merest bands of fabric covering her modesty. Inside, her heart still pounded with excitement, but she knew better than to show it. It was one thing to flash a little stockinged leg and ever the merest glimpse of knickers, but quite another to flash a naked snatch. That would never bahis şirketleri do.

If Sophiya was initially conscious of her own appearance, she had soon forgotten as they walked into the most opulent of Japanese eateries. Oriental-looking waitresses, bedecked in red kimono-style tops and matching trousers, hurried between tables, carrying platters of the most interesting fayre. The place itself was amazing. Stylish décor, black and gold, added to the impression of luxury, of decadence, of expense.

As if waiting for their arrival, the maître d’ was ready with a charming welcome. She too was dressed in similar oriental-style clothing, but more impactful in design rather than practical. The big difference though was age. Whilst the waiting staff all looked young and pretty, the maître d’ was clearly middle aged, her lined complexion highlighting a life well lived, her soft voice both calm and purposeful.

As she spoke, you found yourself listening, or at least Sophiya did. Just like in the department store, Sophiya found herself drawn to the older woman, leaning on her every word. Once more it was the directness, the power in the way she spoke, the feeling of wanting, of needing to follow everything she said. That was twice in the same day; similar strangers, older and imposing, their words spoken with a sense of power, soft secure power.

“If you would like to follow me, Mr and Mrs Khan,” the older woman announced, leading the way towards a more secluded table.

Sophiya was still hanging on to her every word as the older woman walked on ahead. She couldn’t explain it, not earlier, nor now, but there was something so comforting in the way these two older women had addressed her. This time though it was a very fleeting encounter as the maître d’ left them in the company of one of the younger waitresses.

“Would you like a menu sir?” the waitress asked. “I’ll come back to take your order, but can I get you a drink while you are choosing?”

“Sake, chilled not warm,” Mukesh responded.

“Of course, sir. Would you like to see the list?”

“How about you surprise us?”

“For the sake?”

“And the food,” Mukesh continued. “Something traditional… sushi, tempura, some of those skewers… what do you call them?”

“Yakitori?”

“Yes, some of those. You know what I mean. Something to make us feel like we’re in downtown Tokyo.”

“Of course, sir. Leave it with me, sir.”

As the waitress disappeared into the distance, it was Sophiya who was all questions.

“What did you order, Mukesh?”

“Oh, you’ll see. A bit of everything.”

“But what if I don’t like it, Mukesh. I’ve never had Japanese before.”

“Think of it… well… like a tasting menu. You taste a little, and if you like it then you taste some more. You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Sophiya continued. “But what about the champagne. It would be a shame to waste the rest of that bottle.”

“Don’t worry about that, my darling. They promised me they would keep it well chilled for later, but Japanese food needs Japanese sake, trust me… oh, and chopsticks. Can you manage chopsticks?”

“Chopsticks?”

“Yes… these…” Mukesh responded, giving a demonstration of how to hold them.

Sophiya though was nowhere near as elegant as her husband. It was the first time for her, and she was so cack-handed when it came to manipulating them. Oh yes, she could pull them apart, even push them back together, but somehow the tips never reached the same point in space.

“They must have forks,” she whispered to her husband, slightly embarrassed at his ease and her clumsiness.

“Nope, not in Japan. Only chopsticks. But I have an idea.”

“An idea?”

“Yes, you’ll see. First though, some sake.”

At that very moment, with Sophiya still contemplating Mukesh’s idea, the waitress returned carrying a large tray. One by one she placed dishes on the table.

“To start with, a mix of sushi,” she announced as she placed a wooden board down on the table, “mackerel, salmon, tuna belly and tamago… soy, ginger, and wasabi to go with it, but I would warn you there is wasabi inside the sushi too. And here’s the sake… my favourite… I do hope you like it.”

Several times, the waitress returned, covering the table with a plethora of interesting dishes. It was a feast, a tasting journey through the land of the rising sun.

Oh yes, Sophiya certainly enjoyed it, every minute of it. The question was, what was it she enjoyed the most? Was it the restaurant? Was it the food? Was it the way her darling Mukesh, the chopstick expert, teased her with tasty nibbles, sometimes placing them right in her mouth, other times taunting her with a little catch me if you can game?

Or… Was it the feel of his firm leg as she worked a stocking-clad foot gently upwards?

As she sat there, being fed like some cherished goddess, Sophiya slipped off her heels and started to play her own little game beneath the table. If Mukesh could tease her with the promise of food, then Sophiya knew just how to tease him back. A little footsie soon became something more exciting as she worked her foot higher up his leg, all the time ensuring the draped tablecloth was keeping her actions hidden… or at least she hoped her actions were hidden.

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