Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 15

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An hour later, the team's deliberations were interrupted by a message inviting Danielle and Roger for refreshments on the top floor.

Tea with Mr. Miyazaki, Mr. Yamada and Stephen Oakshott was a great success. With only a little prodding from Stephen, and a message to the legal department to check that Danielle's design would not impinge on the copyright of Nakatani Corporation, Mr. Miyazaki committed HyperStar Japan to investigating the possibility of making Danielle's engine. It would be a worthwhile side-project in itself and, if it worked, may produce a lucrative return. With smiles and bows, the visitors took their leave.

Outside, satisfied beyond her expectation, Danielle hugged Stephen again.

"Thank you," she gushed.

"No need for thanks, Goldrick. It's an investment that I expect to pay off handsomely. I'm trusting you. ... Now, what are you doing for the rest of the day?"

"We have no plans."

"Then let's go site-seeing together. My flight home isn't until this evening."

They summoned a ground car and became tourists. Like all visitors to Kyoto, they were awed by the impressive castle of the Shogun warriors with its beautiful gardens; then they were enchanted by the serenity and perfection of a Shinto shrine that covered an entire hill-top.

Saying goodbye to Stephen as he headed home, they returned to their hotel, where the maid, Aiko, advised them to eat dinner there, so she could wait on them. They could eat in their room or with other guests in a communal room, where all the maids would play their instruments and dance for them after dinner.

Tired from walking around and interested in the communal dinner, they agreed to stay in the hotel and be waited on in a traditional manner. Aiko bowed and requested permission to help them undress. There was no shame in the procedure. She began with Roger and when he was naked, helped Danielle off with her grey business suit.

Aiko herself stripped down to a white slip and led them to the plunge pool next to their bedroom. She entered the pool first and invited them in, where she washed them with a kind of loofah.

The water made Aiko's slip see-through. Roger carefully avoided looking at her but Danielle happily admired their pretty maid's short curvy figure as she scrubbed Roger. Never one to deny the beauty of other women, Danielle thought Aiko's small breasts with perky brown nipples pressing through the thin fabric were beautiful. A triangle of thick black pubic hair was visible through the slip, which formed a curtain over her thighs.

After drying her guests with towels, Aiko helped them into comfortable robes and went to dress herself with the other maids. In a large room with wooden floors and rice-paper walls over bamboo lattice, Danielle and Roger joined the other Western guests seated on cushions on the floor around low dining tables. Simply made up and in gorgeous kimonos, the maids entered, playing their instruments, singing a traditional song. Two of the maids danced.

After singing and dancing, the maids left their instruments and catered to their guests, bringing out the dishes and sitting down at the table to fill and refill the plates. Danielle and Roger were hungry and ate everything Aiko served them, trying not to gulp the food down too greedily. She was impressed that they understood Japanese customs so well as to finish their plates.

"Leaving food is an insult to the chef," she explained.

"No chance of that," Danielle said, gamely endeavouring to transport a generous portion of delicious fried seaweed to her mouth with her chopsticks.

Aiko politely took Danielle's hand and gently guided her to a better way of holding the chopsticks. It wasn't so difficult and she soon got the hang of it. There was no hope for Roger, however, who ignored etiquette by using his soup spoon to eat his dinner, pushing the food onto the bowl of the spoon with the fat ends of his chopsticks.

The meal was exquisite and they were enchanted by the musical entertainment of the maids, who sang and danced prettily while their guests sat comfortably. The whole evening was a delight; so a replete and happy couple of honeymooners thanked Aiko effusively and persuaded her that, though it was traditional to bathe after dinner, they felt completely clean and were too full. She made their bed and wished them a good night's sleep.

They sank into the futon and held one another.

"Monday night, Darling. What kind of sex do we have on Mondays?" Danielle asked.

"The ordinary kind, I'm think, Sweetheart, except that I'm too full for any kind of sex."

"I can't believe you're neglecting your new wife less than a week into our honeymoon!"

"I can't move."

"It's your fault for being so greedy."

"I didn't see you stinting."

"I was being polite."

"It's not bad manners to refuse a fifth plate of sashimi."

"Oh, God! It was so delicious," Danielle enthused. "I'm going to taste it for ages."

"You're right. It was amazing. So which is better, food or sex?"

"Mmm? Right now, I'd struggle to choose between them. What do you say?"

"Sex with you is better than any kind of food."

"Flatterer! You have to say that to your wife."

"I'd say it to any woman."

"You better not!"

He laughed.

"I'm serious. Loving you is more harmonious than any music, more exalting than any shrine and more nourishing than any food."

"I don't know what that means but it's beautiful."

"It means you'll always be my highest ideal and greatest pleasure."

"Hmm!" she snuggled closer to him.

"I love you, husband."

"I love you too, wife. And I've remembered now that Monday night is 'woman on top' night."

"Your memory is very convenient for you."

"Isn't it?"

"All right, but don't blame me if I squash you flat. I must weigh a ton after all that dinner you made me eat."

She climbed on him and planted her mouth on his. They clasped hands together, fingers intertwined, just kissing, too full for further action at the moment.

But as their dinners went down, so their appetites for sex went up and pretty soon both were horny. Danielle moved down his body to take his cock in her mouth. He was hard already and she made the most of it, licking around the head before taking it into her mouth with a light suction.

She went slowly, taking in a mouthful and then pulling back with a soft suction, working gradually further and sucking gradually harder. Danielle was a very good cock-sucker and knew how to keep Roger on the boil for ages. She massaged his balls and changed her style, licking sideways up and down the shaft.

When he was groaning nicely, Danielle span around and knelt over his head. His tongue in her pussy worked her up so strongly that she forgot the weight of food in her belly and began to grind her pelvis onto his face. Roger alternated sucking on her clitoris with long succulent licks along her pussy. After some time, he added an exploratory finger, teasing on tendons and muscles, feeling as far into her vagina as he could, finding the a-spot, which he fingered, triggering a gush of dampness and a happy moan.

They kept in this position all the way to the end. Roger's insistent fingering brought Danielle off with shudder, spraying her sweet juice on his face. Not long afterward, her work on his cock brought him off, splurging his seed into her bobbing mouth.

******

On their last day in Japan, Danielle and Roger met Itsuki Takahashi at the great entrance gate to the Nanzen-ji Temple.

He was a thin young man with a slightly nervous look, perhaps because he was carrying a heavier burden than was his due. He made a polite bow and then shook hands with them in the Western fashion, asking them how they were enjoying their visit to Japan and what they thought of Kyoto.

Pleased by their praise of his city, Itsuki guided them through the serene temple and, afterward, they sat in the garden to talk about Yumi.

"She's my older sister by two years," Itsuki said. "She studied Hyperspace Engineering at Kyoto University. I'm there now studying Computer Science. After University, she took a job with the Nakatani Corporation in their engineering department, working on hyperspace drives."

"We visited the Nakatani Corporation exhibition in Tokyo," Roger said. "We saw their new prototype engine."

"Ah, the Hayei C1. Yumi worked on that engine in a small way. She helped model its wave-guide before it went out for space tests."

"That's a coincidence," Roger said, proud of his brilliant wife. "The same engine inspired Danielle to change the design for her own engine."

"You're a hyperspace engineer as well?" Itsuki asked.

"Hyperspace pathways is my speciality, not engines," Danielle said modestly. "But how does Yumi's education and profession relate to our problem?"

"They're relevant because Yumi fell in love with someone at university, a fellow student. It's because of him that she ran away."

"Go on, Itsuki," Danielle said, "tell us the whole story."

"Her lover was Michio Nakatani, son of the Chairman of the Nakatani Corporation. That's why she went to work for Nakatani Engineering, so she could be near him. Michio and she loved each other, or so Yumi thought; but maybe Michio didn't love her as much as she loved him."

"I have to explain: my family are humble folk. Mr. Nakatani wanted Michio to marry someone of his own class, the daughter of an industrialist whose company Nakatani was courting. Their marriage would unite the two families and complete the merger of their companies. Michio refused to marry her, though she was beautiful and stylish; but he gave his father no reason and never told him about Yumi. He knew that, even if the alliance failed, Yumi would still be too poor and humble for his father: Mr. Nakatani would see to it that they were never together."

"They decided to run away. They would go to one of the outworld settlements and start a new life. It wasn't a fantasy: millions of people have done it."

"Yumi spent her savings on a ticket to Capella. She went there to wait for Michio. His own wealth is tied up in the company. He needed to release it and then he would follow her."

"Michio never left Earth and his communications to me were being monitored. I could tell. I'm good with computer security. I got messages to him without being snooped on. He told me his father had frozen his bank account and prevented him selling his shares. Also, his communications to Yumi were blocked: he hadn't heard from her since she left Earth and he couldn't send her any money. He thought his father knew about Yumi."

"I told Michio I would convey messages to her for him and he said he'd be in touch again. I never heard from him since."

"At first, I was in touch with Yumi while she was on Capella, then our communications ended. Perhaps she left Capella, or perhaps she just stopped answering my messages."

"I wanted to go to her but I've no money and I have classes. Besides, I don't know if she's on Capella or not."

"Yumi asked me never to tell our father about the love-affair or where she really went. After a month, he had the police issue a missing person's report but it got quashed. My father doesn't understand why the police won't investigate and they won't tell him, but I think it's Mr. Nakatani's influence."

"Is that everything?" Danielle asked.

"No, there's one more thing. About two days after Yumi arrived on Capella, there was a news item. It was announced that Michio Nakatani was engaged to the heiress of a rival industrial firm and it had a photo of Michio in evening dress escorting his fiancé to dinner, surrounded by their parents, with reports of the merger being finalised."

"I'm sure Yumi must have seen the story, even on Capella, because it made the front pages of the financial news as well as the society news in Japan. Also, that was the last day I heard from her."

"That's everything I know," Itsuki said, sounding relieved that he could at last tell someone.

"We can help," Danielle said. "Roger and have a twenty-four hour stop-over in Capella on our way to Celetaris. We can try to find Yumi and, if she's not there, we can try to learn where she's gone."

"We will always be grateful to you," Itsuki said. "If you are willing to act as agents for our family, I've brought a document giving you power of attorney over Yumi. I got my father to sign it when we talked to a private investigator but we couldn't afford his fees. It will allow you custody of her ..."

Itsuki found he couldn't say the word 'remains'.

"... of anything of hers if they're in the hands of the police or a coroner."

"It won't come to that, Itsuki, I'm sure," Danielle said softly. "We will find Yumi for you."

"Certainly," said Roger. "Don't give up hope. We'll do our best."

"Thank you," Itsuki said, feeling more confident than he had for a year. "I'm sending you the document."

He typed on his communicator and Danielle received a dual-language document with Hayate Takahashi's ID stamp. Itsuki was relieved when Danielle put her own ID stamp on the document.

"I have to go," he said, checking the time. "I have a class soon. Thank you for seeing me and for all you're doing for Yumi."

He shook hands with them, bowed, retreated, bowed again, turned and ran off.

Danielle and Roger remained on the bench for a few minutes, silently mulling over the information, taking it all in. Then Roger said:

"Darling, do you ever get the feeling that you're just a character in a novel?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"I mean the coincidences. Yumi works on the hyperdrive engine that inspires your own engine. Then she meets your brother on Capella and they both go missing. It's as if a narrator is moving pieces across a chess-board."

"I think that, if we were characters in a novel, then you'd be the hero and I'd be your glamorous sidekick who always gets herself kidnapped so you have to save her at the last minute."

"Nonsense! If it were a novel, you'd be the heroine and I'd be the straight man, who feeds you lines to highlight your brilliance."

"Now that's nonsense! In fact, we'd probably both be peripheral characters, put in to add colour or with a minor but important function."

"You'd always be a pivotal character, Danielle," Roger insisted. "I'm just here for exposition."

She smiled at that image and didn't respond. Instead she asked:

"What shall we do now? We have hours before our flight goes."

"More shrines, temples and gardens; or are you hungry?"

"Hungry, after last night? No. I think one more shrine and then a long stroll in a garden."

3 Danielle's speech

After walking around a temple with a handsome pavilion and a water garden, they sat in the shade of a willow, enjoying the scent of blossom and the gurgle of a stream that was said never to have dried up. Small birds chirruped in the trees. The whoosh and clomp of a cleaner's brush sweeping dust from the stone steps up to the temple was a pleasant continuo accompaniment.

Danielle's communicator buzzed. She'd forgotten to silence it. Thinking it was Itsuki with something he'd forgotten to say, she checked the message.

"Oh, it's from Jonathan. He sends us belated congratulations: he's only just heard about our marriage."

"Who's Jonathan?" Roger asked.

"Jonathan Wright, an old friend from university."

"Old friend, eh?"

"No he wasn't and no it won't."

"What?"

"No he wasn't my boyfriend and no it won't be awkward when I invite him to join the Samothea Project. Assuming he's free, he's exactly the man we need to configure the beacon."

"Darling, aren't you getting ahead of yourself? At the moment, the Samothea Project is just you and some students. It's a little precipitate to recruit an old boyfriend."

"A-ha! I knew you were jealous. Don't worry, Jonathan and I went out a few times but there was nothing serious between us."

"I'm not jealous."

"There's no need to be, Darling: he wasn't as good in bed as you."

"Danielle!"

She laughed.

"I'm joking, I'm joking ... he was much better than you. And he had an enormous d..."

She stopped.

"An enormous 'd'?" he asked.

"Diaphragm."

"Really, that was the word on the tip of your tongue?"

"It's your fault, Roger," she pouted. "You were supposed to interrupt me. You spoiled the joke on purpose."

"I apologise. Go on with your tease."

"No. The moment's gone. I'll just have to get back at you another way. As for Jonathan, he was as much a rival as a friend and colleague: we vied for top place in the department. I won, of course."

"I'd be surprised if you hadn't."

"It's a shame you won't be jealous, though. I've never had two men fighting over me. I always imagined it would be a turn on."

"Tell me about your rivalry. It sounds as though there's a story there."

"There is a story but it's a long one and involves a curious event that made me change my mind on an important topic. Do you really want the whole story?"

"Yes."

"All right. It begins with a confession, which is that I once belonged to a feminist society."

"You make it sound like you joined one of those demented religious cults."

"Didn't I? I had a single ready-made answer for everything - the patriarchal conspiracy - and a convenient scapegoat to blame - all men. I had a set of pre-packaged arguments and a fool-proof way of avoiding having to answer criticism (that is, anyone who disagrees with a feminist is a chauvinist). It sounds like a demented cult to me."

"But I'm a feminist," Roger protested.

"No you're not, Darling," Danielle was unimpressed. "You pretended to be one because you thought it would help you get into women's knickers."

"Well, that plan didn't work, then."

"Of course not. Women prefer manly men, not antiseptic ones."

"Is that why you married an effete academic?"

"Manliness is not measured in muscles and aggression, as you well know, husband, but in the quiet strength men have more than women. Manly men are firm, solid, reliable and chivalrous, especially chivalrous. You're the most chivalrous man I know."

"I'm sure I'm not such a paragon."

"Don't worry, you will be when I'm done with you. No man is perfect until a woman has licked him into shape, as my mother says. ... And if you won't take a compliment, then you'll agree my Dad is very manly but I've never once heard him raise his voice in anger. Real manliness is moral certainty, confidence, dependability, courage."

"Women have all those virtues," Roger said.

"We do, but less so than men; that's why we admire men and look up to them. Women specialise in different virtues: endurance, resilience, loyalty, putting up with pain and loss, making the best of a bad thing. It's the difference between us that makes us compatible."

"Well that's an interesting philosophy."

"Besides," she continued, "now you've got me, you don't need to pretend to be a feminist any more. You can get into my knickers any time you want."

"All right, I surrender, I'm convinced," he said.

"Good. I'll continue with my story, which has both muscles and chivalry in it."

"I'm listening. I love your stories - though they rarely reach an end and never go by the shortest route."

She laughed.

"I'm a woman. Being direct is a manly virtue."

"So," she went on, "although my flirtation with feminism didn't last long, and I never took it too seriously, at the time I did my doctorate, I was a paid-up member of the cult and my friend Eva Welwyn was one of its leaders."

"As you know, I finished my doctorate six years ago at Caltech, where they had an excellent post-doctorate program. In conjunction with some other universities, a team of post-docs would collaborate on a project for three-quarters of their time and teach for the other quarter. It was ideal for me, I thought, so I asked my supervisor to propose me for the program."

"He advised me not to bother, saying I wasn't suited to that kind of work, that I wouldn't fit into the team. He was quite explicit: he said I wasn't the right man for the role."

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