Six months grinding in a Hong Kong skyscraper office. Killer view of the bay from my desk. Job’s fine, but the city’s a lonely blur—gym, overtime, tourist traps. No one knows me. Then my old pal Charlotte emails: she’s stopping over for a few days. Haven’t seen her in two years, but chats kept us tight. I offer my couch. Breaks the monotony.
Reception buzzes at 7 PM. Her suitcase wheels echo in the marble lobby. I shut down, hit the elevator. Doors open—bam. Not the hippie mess in my head. Sleek gray suit, severe bob haircut dark brown, scarlet lips and sky-high stilettos matching. Taller than me now. Legs endless. She grins huge, old Charlotte shines through.
The Layover
We ditch the tower for dinner. Taxi hums through neon chaos. Talk flows like yesterday. She’s single, veggie-friendly—score. Cocktails flow too heavy. Her suit hugs curves just right, professional heat. Ice cream dessert: she licks red bean slow, eyes locked, tongue swirling obscene. Laughs off guys’ BJ obsessions. I’m hooked on those scarlet lips.
She geeks on skyscrapers. I pitch the top-floor view from my tower. Night guard nods us in—late nights are my thing. Swipe my keycard. Glass elevator rockets up. City sprawls below. Lights off at the top: bay explodes in lights. I press behind her, hand on hip to point junks, Bank of China tower, ICC spike. Silence thick, city glow our only light.
Cruise ship glides in. I lean, point. She ignores it, eyes devouring me. Turns, kisses soft—testing. I kiss back hard. Tongues clash. Press her to glass. Her leg hooks my thigh. Hand under skirt, grip ass through thong. Lift her, thighs clamp my waist, pussy grinds my cock. Devour her neck.
Set her down. Rip shirts off. Red bra unsnaps—pear-shaped tits, pale areolas, hard nipples up. Mouth and hands feast. Her fingers yank belt, free my thick cock, stroke slow. Bite my lip, her hand joins mine under panties, finger-fucks her wet slit. Groans escape.
The Transit
Spin her to glass. Skirt, thong down long legs—stockings stay, heels kicked off. Pressed back, right hand dives pussy, left mauls tits. Fingers plunge deep, she sucks my left digits sloppy. Guides me. She cums hard against the window, gasping city views.
Kneels, swallows cock greedy—hand and mouth pump. Pull her up at edge. Kiss fierce, drop to knees. Tongue and fingers on clit, tits crushed. She yanks hair: ‘Fuck me.’ Bend her over glass, cambered ass. Ease thick cock in slow—her moan raw. Eyes shut in reflection, lip-bit.
Thrust deep, pull out almost full, plunge harder. Balls slap ass. Hands on swinging tits, then clit rub. Faster, pound brutal. Her cries echo elevator shaft. Slam home, explode inside, cum pulsing hot.
We slump in dark, arms tangled, city whispers below. Head to my sterile apartment—feels like transit hotel, keycard beep, suitcase dumped. Days blur in bed: urgent fucks, no tours. Her flight looms. Morning airport run. She hands back spare keycard at door, scarlet smile. ‘Til next stopover.’ Wheels roll away. Bay view empty again. That elevator rush lingers.