Private Interview

There are many perks of being the Chairman of the board of a International Conglomerate, beautiful women single and divorced fawning at your feet, up and coming executives who work in the far flung empire and their wives. Two times a year I hold a convention in New York to meet these executives and their wives. The invitation only affair is held in a 5 star hotel, I reserve ten floors of rooms and suites for the executives to stay. I also have six invitations sent to women that have either impressed me or who have caught my eye at a restaurant or some other outing. Tonight is a private dinner with six beautiful women that recieved invitations. The women arrived at the hotel restaurant reserved for tonight at 7 pm for cocktails and dinner at 8 pm. The chosen few smell money, power, and publicity as my arm candy. I told them to dress up to impress. All had turned up, as required. As expected.

One of the women, in particular, is a knock-out. She is 20, single, 5′ 7″, weighs about 110. She is a model and college student in Vietnam. Her name is Lu. She wore a form-hugging black short dress showing her long legs, with a row of pearl buttons down the front. I sat her as far from me as possible during dinner. I see she is disappointed by this. At the end of the meal, I waved her to come sit by me, smoking my cigar and drinking scotch, I offered a drink. ” So your a model.” I said to her. ” I’d like to spend sometime with you,” I said, with a smile, standing up. I sense Lu is nervous. She is the chosen one, from all the women here, by John Malone, the Chairman of the Board. I nod to my driver. He knew what to do. ” Come with me, Lu,” I said to her. I led her over the dance floor to a pair of impressive double doors. The doors to the private elevator to my suite. The suite’s bedroom is impressive. I open the doors, I sense another twinge of hesitation as she sees the huge bed in the large room. Again, she controlls it well. My hand, in the small of her back lightly steering her in. As I turn, to close the doors behind us, satisfied Lu and me.

The master bedroom is enormous, with a view over New York that is spectacular. One wall is floor to ceiling glass. The drapes are open. The bedside lights are on either side of the large king-sized bed, already turned down. Other than that it was the reflected light from the view, that bathed the room in a soft light. ” Nice view?” I said to my lovely and respectful Lu. Twenty years old, a beautiful face, Soft, chocolate-colored eyes, black long hair and a hot body. The soft music quietly playing. She nods: nice view. I wonder if she can speak English, it didn’t matter if she can’t. I take her hand, she gives it to me cautiously, holding my fingers the way she figures she should. I led her to the view. She came, obediently. When she arrived at the window, I said, ” Now we’ll dance, I shall get to know you.” She did speak English, at least understood it, for she turns and held out her arms. ” No, no, my dear,” I said, I’m pleased she understood. ” This view is too good to waste. We’ll face the view and dance so that we both may enjoy it.” A puzzled frown came over her face, so I turn her to the view, move behind her, and put my arms around her waist.

A pert little ass fits neatly against my crotch, her shoulders and back against my chest and abdomen; the hair at the top of her head lightly tickling my nose. I move my arms further round her petite body, and start to dance, I start to move from one foot to another, moving my crotch against her tight little ass. She hesitates, but only for a second, then lightly rests her hands on my arms which encircle her, and starts to move as I did. What is going through her mind, in that pretty little head of hers I wonder. ‘How far will this go?’ no doubt. I wonder what conclusion she will reach? I have found, that there are two ways you can play this situation – if you are me, that is. You can be cautious and subtle, think of their feelings, and tread with care; or you can dispense with subtlety altogether, discount their feelings entirely, and do whatever the hell you want. With the highly delectable Lu I had decided, as soon as I saw her come into the restaurant, that I would do what I want with her. She has that effect on a man, you can say.

My philosophical point is, the more wealth, personal power and business power of the company you are CEO of, the less consideration those working under you, or those supporting those who work under you, need to realistically expect – and the International group of companies I head is as expansive as the window I’m looking through, and as huge as the bed at my back! I’ve always liked New York,” I said, as I slide the flat of my hand over a rewarding flat and firm girlish stomach. I let it descend towards her pubis, which on her, I discover when I got there, is aggressively prominent. She froze when I touch her there, then she relaxes. My other hand I run up her front, to her breasts. She froze a second time as my hand reaches her small pert breasts cupping a surprisingly plump handful. Her feet stop moving. So did her hips. Her legs have snapped together.

I continue to sway to the music as if I hadn’t realized that my sweet little Asian nymph has stopped, or that I had her breast in one hand and her pubis in the other. I start, to work on both. To gently stroke, and cup, and squeeze; to press, caress and fondle. ” Yes, soft and supple, I love young Asian women.” I repeat, gazing over her head at the view, voice a deep rasp from years of cigars and many of the best brands of cognac and scotch. ” Being Chairman of the Board means I can advance your modeling career,” I said, without elaborating. As if something is suddenly switched on in her mind – ‘Chairman of the Board,’ perhaps? – she slowly unfroze, her feet begin tentatively to resume their shuffle, and her hips begin to sway, again. I sense she is forcing herself to relax, join in, take part, as my fingers continue their groping and caresses of her more sensitive parts. ” Your from Vietnam?” I ask, making conversation.
“Yes,” she replies.

Her hands drop to her sides. I took her breast gently lifting it against her, my finger and thumb rolling and pinching her nipple. Many Asians pad their bras to make up for what they may feel they’d like to have, but don’t …