Dara Visits a Resort 6 End Bk 1
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Dara Makes New Friends (5)Chapter 11: A Royal Party! free porn video
Sunday, the day before the seminars for the Government officials and the Royals, Sung got word of an upcoming “wrinkle” in US banking rules. He understood it instantly and spent the day updating everything: his lectures, power-points and handouts. It was not a big deal as it applied to only a tiny number of international transactions, but they paid Sung to be on top of things and this was a case where he could tell his clients on Monday about things the US bank officers would not be briefed about until Wednesday. He would also email the stuff to his regular seminar clients. They would one-up on everybody - even their US counterparts! That would be a huge coup elevating him as an even brighter star.
His fast work paid off. On Thursday after his last seminar the Minister gave him a contract for the seminars next year. There was no negotiation, they just gave him 50% more money for the same work, much more that he expected. He was very pleased.
While Sung was doing his seminars Monday and Tuesday, Cara took me shopping for more clothing, with an emphasis on swimsuits. She explained that I really needed 3 types, with several of each, for the following week. One type was for exercise, and fit during movement was critical. I had to jump and stretch “like I was playing volleyball,” which I did not know how to play, or how a ball figured in. (In the US sports involve throwing and catching balls, even football. In the rest of the world we kick balls. The jumping I did not fit either approach.) A second type of swimsuit was actually for swimming, these had to fit well but were expected to be skimpier. I had learned a little swimming - the bandages disrupted my lessons - but Sung seemed to think it was still an essential activity. He assured me that I would not be swimming in the ocean.
The third type of outfit was for sunbathing, and it was here that Cara and I had our first real fight. Most of the outfits she showed me covered as much skin as three bandages. Small bandages. The crotch covering went from my anus to the top of my slit, leaving much territory that had not seen the sun since I was very little. The upper parts covered barely more than a nipple. In both cases, because things could slip, I needed expensive waterproof body-glue to keep these tiny garments in place. And that was not the bad part! It seems there were these “crochet’ and “sun through” designs, where the “bandage” parts were not solid, they were designed using a thread or netting like nylon stockings or semitransparent material so the sun could come through, but supposedly vision could not. The rest of the outfit was just tiny strings or clear fishing line. Suits made of these materials, instead of something solid for what they struggled to cover, were what Cara thought was best! Then their was the price, they started at twice what the regular fashion swimsuits cost! I walked out of the store, I could not stand it.
But Monday night Sung was insistent, I needed to be tanned when we got to Hong Kong, to make the best first impression on the other wives; he said I was the youngest and most beautiful so I had to make the most of that. Tanning beds were bad, a week in the sun was the best that could be done. He said the place we were going had special provisions for sunning. (I thought we all had the same sun, so naturally I was skeptical of that claim.)
Well, my husband ordered it so Tuesday we were back, looking at the tiny bits of cloth, trying to imagine me under the sun in one. I wound up with three “sun through” designs which supposedly let enough light in as if there was not any cloth at all. It was a terrible experience. We also got some coverups and a few regular things (shorts, tops and dresses) of terry cloth, for casual wear “around the resort.”
That led to another surprise.
“What resort?” I asked. “I thought we were going to a beach hotel?”
“The place where you are spending next week. Sung is celebrating his coup. He got a juicy cash bonus from a bank that has an affected transaction coming up, he saved them a lot of money when he cued them in on the new policy rules Sunday and they were able to lecture their US banker today. This is all chess you know. They made a big deal of it, the US guy did not believe so they called in his boss and his boss’s boss, but they did not know either. They will all find out tomorrow and the Thai bank will gain great face. They were properly grateful. So Sunday night he upgraded plans for the week. Since I will not be along he only needs one room, which saves him some money, so he picked a much nicer place.”
“He did not tell me,” I groused.
“Well, you have not been to either place, so I guess he thought you would not know the difference,” she said. “Also, he has been busy.” That I saw, Sunday night he was too tired for sex. But I still thought something was wrong.
Silly girl, where we were going wrong was the new right.
On Wednesday I went to the diet doctor again. We revised my diet for Hong Kong, I could expect my regular period to start in a month or two because I was doing so well. Gee, thanks for that, suddenly I needed pills every day and pads every month. I also got a diaphragm; that seemed like overkill but the doctor explained that the pill did not take effect instantly, so I needed to be careful. Or to use something else - like oral sex.
Also on Wednesday we got word that I was cleared by security for the Friday Night cocktail party with the Royals, and in fact I had an unusual specific invite. Sung expected the clearance would take months, but when we put Father’s name on the security form something wonderful happened. I could not attend the formal dinner on Saturday, with more Royals present I could not get the security approval for that, plus there was no way to put together an outfit by then.
But the cocktail party Friday night was a different story. It seemed somebody important expressed interest in me. Cara was very excited, she made plans for dress shopping Thursday and getting my hair done on Friday. She knew a “hair and glitter guy,” so I would take Cara’s Friday appointment. We all talked over Japanese take-out.
“Glitter? Do I need glitter?”
Cara was in a mood, I was her dress-up doll. “Oh yes. Something subtle that matches the dress but sparkly-festive.”
I was excited but, “I don’t drink cocktails,” I said. “My Faith...”
Sung replied, “Yes, we know. But they will have many things you can drink, with Royals they always have wonderful safe drinks. All my clients will be there and they are looking forward to seeing you; news of this marriage has spread like a wildfire. You will charm them all with your presence so they will envy me. Also, if you went to the dinner you would spend a great deal of time at one table, making conversation with a small group of people. At the cocktail party we will mingle and spend just spend a few minutes with everybody. Fewer problems that way. Still, the specific invite is very unusual.”
I had to back that up. “What problems could there be?” I was feeling pretty good about myself. Silly girl.
Cara deflated me like a pin in a balloon. “What is the most likely question for a newly married wife to be asked?”
I thought for a moment. “How did you meet ... Oops! I see your point. ‘I write internet porn’ does not really fit.”
“Well, you know what your royals are like,” Cara nodded. (Note: they are stuffy and proper to the N-th degree, nothing like the Brits.) “You need an answer, obviously, but in a short conversation you can avoid tripping yourself on the followups.”
Sung chimed in. “You must realize that anything you say about writing will get people asking next where they can read what you wrote. You see, the conversational hole just gets deeper if you don’t make a plan an escape. In Hong Kong you will be able to imply writing in Thai, or even Kam Mueang, which nobody is likely to know, so the followup will be something else.” (Actually, Kam Mueang was a good choice, and I used it from then on. It is the language of my father’s family and the smallest of the three regional tongues. I can speak and write it, but generally don’t.) “That will work in Hong Kong, but here it just digs a deeper hole. We need to work out common answers for the things you will be asked. But since cocktail parties involve mingling, we don’t need many and we can move on if you get in a hole.”
For the fiction of “how we met,” we decided that some distant relatives of the imam had been involved with an electronic introduction, and we got to know each other in a private chat room. Mention of the imam would also reveal my faith, answering many questions like why I had an arranged marriage. His excuse for interest was that Thai women were beautiful - it was a view he had expressed to his bankers the previous year. The story contained enough truth that a terrible liar like me could say it with a straight face.
We worked out a few other items: I was excited for the move from rural Thailand to one of the most crowded cities in the world in Hong Kong, my family had just moved to a commercial development in the south, I had never been to the US but I hoped to someday, I was looking over my education options and was leaning toward nursing or finance, but I wanted to get used to being a wife first ... That type of thing.
After that the preparations went as expected. I actually got three cocktail dresses, two for “faculty” things next year and a very elegant, very tiny number in satin and silk from Paris which was barely modest enough for me and beautiful enough for Sung’s students. It was designed to leave one shoulder bare and had a built-in-bra. The blue glitter spray I got Friday plus an orchid from my husband improved the whole thing 100%. There was a professional photographer at the party so I could send a picture to my family.
About the picture, Bop wrote back and asked “who was that sexy older woman with your husband?” She was serious! Father was face-to-face when he told me how proud he was.
The Party Of Good And Evil
Friday night we were at the cocktail party for only a short time, about three hours. It was enough, most of the time we mingled and repeated the same conversation over and over with different bankers - 4 to 6 each for the 20 banks present! Most reminded me of lizards. Sung knew them all by name. It was exhausting, but so many men wanted to see me in the flesh, they said very nice things about what they saw, then they all asked the same questions. With that dress they saw more flesh then I liked, but their eyes were hungry for more even if it was relatively modest compared to the rest of the women. Sung said they were all impressed. I also learned a few things about the resort we were going to, it seemed that it was so popular with the bankers that they all knew of it. In fact, when Sung wanted to change the conversation off of my history, all he had to do was mention where we would be next week. The popularity was because it was new and sexy, with some adult activities not found at most resorts. Of course, they all looked at me and imagined things. They were sure I would fit right in. I thought about the minimal suits I had for sunbathing, and I knew they were thinking of the same things.
They each said this while looking at me wearing my tiny, barely sufficient dress, and with a demeanor that said naked sex on the beach was mandatory! One guy actually made a sports date with my husband, and implied that “their lovely wives” should join then in private afterward! He also talked about wagers - and not for money!
I asked Sung if there really was public sex on the beach. He said “no, not on the beach. Sand is such a bother. Public sex is...” then somebody else said hello and he never finished.
I was quite upset by that.
It seemed that all of his bankers were at the cocktail party, and most attended with dates. About a third obviously had their real wives along, the rest looked like beautiful women (one can never be sure in Bangkok) who “worked” for their bank, perhaps on a one-night contract. The difference was obvious, but I was not to judge or speak ill. I must say they were all nice to me. Sung mentioned that I was probably the youngest woman in the room and that many of the other men envied him because of it, while the women were mostly jealous and afraid their husbands might compare them to me. It was probably wrong, but I admit to feeling good about that.
This also kept the women from talking to me or Sung or their husbands. They gathered in like groups, wives in one clutch, dates in a bigger gaggle.
One of the two most memorable moments was I met was George Devilin, the man Sung called to arranged banking for my Father. George was the Executive Vice President of his bank, officially the #2 guy, and it was pretty clear that he had absolute authority for the day-to-day operations. George had the highest charisma of any man I had ever met, he was completely and utterly charming in every way. He simply could not be faulted. But something was different about him, he was “off” in a way I could not put into words. Where some people seemed to glow he made me think of the opposite. His eyes seemed to look into my soul, and his smile said that he knew things about me that I did not want anybody - not even myself - to know. Plus, something told me his soul showed nothing, because it was the pure black of undiluted evil. Seething evil. I was drawn to him, but I had a hard time not shivering every moment we talked. He seemed to know this, and he enjoyed it.
In addition to charm, there was a sexual chemistry. Despite all the other, I found myself drawn to him sexually, much like I had been drawn to my husband after what he did to that local bank manager. Very inappropriate. It was a byproduct of the cosmic power he radiated. Also, the tone with which he acknowledged that we were newlyweds said that he was somehow holding back for this year, but it made me 100% sure that next year he would want me for damning, disgusting sexual purposes; an after-life-changing sexual experience that would also change my path in the next life. I wondered if I would resist. I wondered if Sung would allow it. I could see plainly that Sung was wondering the same thing. Like I said, the Devil-in-George had great power, and it radiated like a dark sun.
Grace
- 18.11.2022
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