Exiting the bathroom Hermione returned to their table while Manu made his way to the Valets and asked them to call a cab. When Manu returned he sat down and smiled.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I smile because you are smart, playful, adventurous, perceptive, fun, and a shameless slut. That's quite the combination pākehā woman. May I say that I stand impressed?" he answered.
"Spoken like a true alumnus of The University of London. You're quite an exotic specimen yourself. While we're on the topic of the exotic, what's your opinion as to whether I should accept Oliver's offer?"
"I don't need to tell you he wants to get into your pants. Perhaps you're even willing to give him the chance in exchange for his 'hospitality.' It was a generous offer but you know you should always assume an exchange of something of equal value will be expected. Do you think you're worth it?"
Hermione giggled. "You're about find out, Māori man. You can assess my value later. But my question involves multiple parts. One, what might Jennifer's reaction be, in terms of what she might do because of it. Two, I'm wondering if exploring New Zealand is an adventure worth 'the price' of my ticket. Finally, can I manage Oliver, meaning, is he dangerous?"
It was Manu's turn to laugh. But just then they were being summoned. As they left the restaurant Hermione thanked the captain and told him, "My name is Hermione Granger, by the way. If you see me again I'd be pleased if you would address me by my name." Then she handed him fifty Australian dollars.
"Certainly, Miss Granger. It will always be my pleasure to serve you." Then he whispered, "And I will strive to impress any future escorts with whom you may arrive."
Hermione, conscious of her absence of panties, entered the cab carefully and slid across the seat. Manu slid in next to her and gave the driver the name of their hotel. They were on their way. Emboldened by the tryst in the toilet, Hermione wedged her hand between his massive thighs and slid it up against his leather clad crotch. Doing the same to her, he felt an unclad, soft and damp pussy. He smiled broadly.
"Let me first answer about Jennifer. As I see it, she's in the subordinate position here, being entirely dependent on Oliver's continued desire for her, which she knows is fragile. I presume you're asking about retaliation and I think her options are very limited. What can she do? Any retribution she directs at Oliver jeopardizes her security and any retribution she directs at you risks it being reported back to Oliver, which is doubly risky because he will be embarrassed. He probably has a hard and fast rule about maintaining his social status. So, if I were you, she would be the least of my concerns."
"Why doesn't she find someone else, I wonder? She knows her time is limited. It might be a good idea to pull up stakes and find a new place to pitch her tent."
"Doubtless she's probably trying but I can't imagine who she might be able to attract," Manu remarked.
"Scott's a widower and he certainly enjoys the companionship of young women," Hermione offered.
"Oh, yes – companionship. You would know this from experience, I gather?" Then he rubber her pussy with the edge of his hand to emphasize his point. "It's not a very good business strategy to pilfer the wife of an important client. I'm thinking, if it were me, I wouldn't even think about it. Scott impresses me as smart enough to know better as well. But, if she's dismissed by Oliver and she knows Scott has an interest in her, it's a possibility. I heard rumors that she has a magical touch going down on a man, the best blow broad in Auckland I'm told. Perhaps she could apply her skills of persuasion on Scott."
"Perhaps I could be the catalyst for her change in venue," Hermione mused.
"That's a personality trait I left off your list: Machiavellian." He laughed again; his laugh making Hermione's pussy a little more damp, damp enough that he felt it and rubbed her a little more.
"I've never been called that before but perhaps I am Machiavellian. Now, what about New Zealand as an adventure for this innocent little Machiavellian fuck doll? Could you list the pros and cons of New Zealand for me?"
The cab was pulling up to the hotel. "Yes I think I can, but perhaps we should continue this conversation later?" Removing his hand from between her thighs he brought it up to his nose and inhaled lustily. In the elevator ride up to his floor she stroked his pants, probing to determine the extent of his arousal. His suite was much nicer than hers. Hermione entered into a seating area furnished with two oversize couches, a wall mount big screen TV, and two comfortable single chairs. Next came the bathroom which featured an anti‑room with a double sink vanity and a combination tub and shower, small sink, and the toilet behind a privacy door. Finally, the bedroom was furnished with a king bed, various tables and dressers, a closet and the usual hotel amenities such as a safe for valuables, ironing board and iron, refrigerator, a beverage service kit, etc.
Turning to him she put both hands on his chest and said, "Stop right there. Do nothing. I'm going to take pleasure in undressing you and I expect you to stand still and let me do as I please." At this point she was horny just to touch his body and examine his tattoos.
Starting with his jacket she pushed it off his shoulders and removed it. Unbuttoning his shirt next she tugged it out of his waistband, working it down his arms and off. His torso showed his impressive muscular definition and her juices began to flow as she ran her hands over his pecs and abs. His entire upper body and both arms were covered in tattoos in vibrant colors and depicting beautifully drawn symbolic objects. The shoes were next, with Hermione kneeling on the floor in a crouch before him, subjugating herself the same as she had for Koa. Finally, kneeling before him and salivating at the thought of what she was about to do, she took down his pants and he stepped out of them.
"Feet apart, Māori man. Let me take a close look at you. From his ankles to his neck he was fully inked, with his thick legs, muscular upper body, and massive arms he was certainly very large but not flabby. Running her hands over his chest, arms, and legs she examined the scenes depicted in ink. Magnificent birds in flight, primitive weapons and shields, sunbursts, moons, majestic mountains, and runes she had never seen despite her years of study on the subject. The artwork was superb. But when she walked around to view his back she was shocked and delighted; she could not decide which. The first thing that caught her eye was a pretty Māoriwoman lying prone with her hair pulled back and facing the viewer, her forearms were folded one over the other transversely across his lower back, and her chin rested on her forearms so she was looking directly at the viewer. The cheeks of his ass were then depicted as two enormous boobs dropping from the woman's chest. Hermione laughed out loud and ran her hands over the 'boobs' seeking to caress the 'nipples' into full hardness. It was impossible to resist squeezing them and she did that shamelessly.
Above this woman's head was another woman inked onto his upper back, lying on her back in the other direction so that she was ass forward and holding her head up to look at the viewer between her legs. Her mouth formed an expression of rapture. The viewer was staring at her between her legs that were lifted high in the air and spread out in a wide vee, tipping her pelvis up, to provide a full display of her pussy, which was drawn with pink engorged lips that were blooming open, a clitoral hood that was retracted, and her engorged pleasure nub distended in a full carnal display of a lady boner. The shameless display of carnal lust and submission caused Hermione to wonder if Manu ever frequented any beaches without a shirt.
It was now time for the main act; she took his hand and led him to the bed, then instructed him to lie down on his back. Mounting him in a sixty‑nine position she lowered her pussy onto his face and began to lick and suck his dick. The girth of this monster still amazed her, but she refused to be intimidated. After a long time slurping and sucking, perhaps ten minutes, she was panting with unsatisfied lust and his dick was now fully hard. Reversing herself she straddled him and directed the thick cock at her dripping wet little fuck hole. It took all her force of will to work it in, rocking slightly to pry her tight little cunt open to accept the invader. Stretched to her limit she worked her hot hole down upon it, grinding and prying and working it in millimeter by excruciating millimeter until finally she had engulfed it fully. Perspiration had beaded on her from her exertions and it was necessary to hold still to allow her cunt muscles to stretch enough to accommodate its size. Her hot inner core was already pulsing with need and her fragrant nectar was leaking down his hot rod onto his balls.
Moaning, she slowly pushed up a centimeter then dropped again with a squeak. Again, she pushed up again with a pitiful moan and dropped quickly down emitting another squeak. Again and again she fucked this tree stump crammed into her twat until she was riding half his length and grunting with the effort in between moans.
"I'm going to fuck you, Māori man. I'm going to fuck this impossible cock and drain your balls dry of cum. You'll never forget your first pākehā slut, because she's the nastiest cock slut tramp you're ever going to have."
At that he grabbed her ass with his massive hands and pulled her tight down on his tree stump of a dick. He might have gone only a millimeter deeper but it was enough to cause her to tremble and announce, "Fuck! It feels like I have an iron bollard stuffed up my twat. You're going to split me in two."
Displaying an agility she did not know he had he lifted his hips while holding her firmly impaled upon his pussy splitter, then twisted his hips and, in an instant, she found herself flat on her back with her legs in the air, split wide by his broad hips and his considerable weight pressing into her. She was still fully impaled. It was too much and her cunt contracted and she began to cum. She was screaming, "UUUUUHHHHHNNNN OOOOOOOWWWWWW FUUUCCCKKK!"
Undeterred he hooked his arms under her legs and pulled them up against his chest where he wrapped a massive arm around them, securing them together tightly and shifting them onto his left collarbone. Squeezing her legs together like that squeezed her pussy more forcefully around his cock. The pressure on her pussy lips sent waves of pleasure through her clit. She was panting heavily as he leaned into her, his massive bulk driving her pelvis into the mattress.
"Now, little pākehā slut, you are going to surrender your soul to this Māoriwarrior and you will know my power."
Shifting his hips left and right that fireplug wedged in her twat began to pinch the clitoral bulbs that descended down along the sides of her pussy, under her labia majora. These hidden extensions of her pleasure organ made shallow thrusting pleasurable and accelerated the advent of her orgasm at other times. But this left right motion was alternately squeezing and releasing first one clitoral bulb and then the other. The effect was similar to when she pinched, rolled and released her own nipples alternating pain and pleasure. The pain was as delightful as the pleasure the two creating a yin and yang dichotomy that made her pant and swear, "YOOUU BIIIIGGGG FUUUCCKER. OWWWHHHH FUUUCCCKK, MY PUUUUUSSSSYYYY!" Picking up the pace he pried back and forth faster and without warning an orgasm shot through her that reflected the mix of pain and pleasure as the involuntary contractions of her cunt could not squeeze down normally, being stretch wide by his fire hose stump of a cock.
Now the fucking started as he began to thrust, slicing in and out of her impossibly tight cunt with quick short strokes. Her pussy was still pulsing with a desperate need and the thrusting made her cum again, even more violently as bright flashes of light exploded in her vision. He continued to fuck her, splitting her tender flesh again, and again, and again. It was as he had predicted; she had surrendered all will power, all ability to reason rationally, and all of her personal identity had been abandoned. There was only a consciousness of that iron bollard splitting through her sensitive flesh. Great spasms of sexual ecstasy cut through her with each stroke. This was going to ruin her poor pussy for life but, at this moment, she utterly craved it and surrendered to the assault completely. All external reality had ceased to exist and her only conscious thought was focused on that impossible cock as it made her cum again and again.
There was the genesis of a great rumble rising in his chest and she could feel it as it rose in him. Her pussy was stretched further as his cock swelled. He opened his mouth and loosed a loud roar: "RRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" then flooded her cunt with thick cum, pumping six strong ropes of the stuff, seeking to flood her womb. Dear Morgana don't let him spend and fall on me! But spend he did. Fortunately, he let go of her legs as he did which she quickly clamped over his hips, he was too big to leg wrap, and then he did fall, pressing her whole body into the mattress and knocking the breath out of her. It was her last conscious thought.
There must have been a car crash, folded up as she was and pressed by some heavy weight into the seat cushions, unable to move. Little licks of pleasure were stimulation her pussy lips. Now? Now, you decide to have a wet dream? Got to get out of here. Struggling to free herself she tipped her head back and opened her eyes.
It was dark and Manu was stretched over her body. It had been a dream. His tongue was the source of the little licks of pleasure and he had pulled her legs back, bending her in half, while he hovered his fat cock hung over her face. She managed to reach it and gently coax him down so she could take him into her mouth. What the time was she did not know and banished the concern to focus on the thick member in her mouth, she was going to get him off like this so he didn't feel the need to fuck her unfortunate pussy again. Of course she succeeded, but it took fifteen long minutes of concentrated effort and by the time he roared and pumped his load into her throat she had cum six times and was in need of a respite. Apparently it was too intense for him because he rolled off her, onto his back, and blacked out, which was strangely satisfying to Hermione, she felt powerful.
After struggling to sit up she glanced at the alarm clock. It was almost 4:00 AM. Standing on unsteady feet she gathered her clothes and dressed, electing to carry her shoes, and padded quietly in bare feet out of his suite as she returned to her own room.
As she entered her room she was struck by the sweet fragrance of roses. There, on the small round table, was a large vase containing an enormous display of one dozen red and one dozen white long stem roses. The bouquet filled the room, a heavenly scent. Then she noticed an enormous basket of goodies on the dresser containing bottes of sport drinks, mineral water, tea, mangoes, Asian apples, bananas, and several boxes containing six French truffles each. The attached cards read simply, 'With my compliments, Oliver.'
No time for this now. Stripping out of her clothes she headed for the bath and while the shower stream was coming up to temperature she examined her naked form in the mirror. Her pubic hair was matted with dried cum as were her genitals and thighs, streaking as far down as her knees. There was also dried cum on her tits, neck, face, and in her hair. He must have jacked off in the middle of the night and painted her with the stuff; she had no memory of that happening. To her surprise her pussy was not as sore as she imagined it would be. Stepping into the shower she washed herself off. The warm water was soothing and the soap and shampoo felt so sensual and satisfying.
Stepping out and drying off she fished out a small tube of Murtlap essence she had in her bag and treated her pussy to the blessed stuff. While she was doing that she downed bottles of mineral water and ravenously wolfed down a box of truffles. Fuck! What a night! Crawling into bed she covered up and slept.
There was a rapid knocking on the door that brought her out of her sleep. Checking the clock, it was 10:00 AM. Arising and searching out the hotel bathrobe, she wrapped herself up and pulled open the door. It was Jing, of course. Jing immediately wrapped her up in her arms and kissed her.
"Good morning honey. You must have had a night. Wow, it smells so good in here. Let me look at you." Jing pulled her robe open and pushed it over her shoulders, dropping it to the floor.
"I'm exhausted, Jing. Can we talk later?"
"I'll bet you are. Don't mind me. Let's get you back in bed."
Jing led her over to the bed and helped her into it. Then she stripped off her own clothes and snuggled up in a big spoon to Hermione's exhausted form. Merlin she feels so good. I feel so safe. Maybe this is just what I need. Again, that was the last thing she remembered.
It was one o'clock when Hermione opened her eyes. No longer being spooned by Jing, she was now snuggled up to her with her face nuzzled into her neck while Jing lay on her back. A warm hand was caressing the side of her face while Hermione's hand was draped over Jing's chest, holding her in an embrace. With her face nuzzled into Jing's neck she inhaled the natural fragrance of her skin. Merlin, this woman smelled so fucking good. Hermione lifted her head and smiled up at her. "Thank you for holding me and the comfort you provided."
"It was my pleasure. I jilled myself twice while you slept, I was so amazed that I could be with you like this."
"Jing, I would love to lie here with you all day and even make love with you but, right now, I'm desperately hungry. I need to eat."
"Of course, my precious girl. I'll take you to a nice diner nearby where they specialize in American cuisine. I think the biscuits and gravy with hash browns will put you back to rights. The coffee in the south pacific is the best in the world."
Reluctantly they unwound and tumbled out of bed. Hermione was dressing slowly while Jing examined the flowers and basket that had been delivered courtesy of Oliver.
"He's really applying the pressure, isn't he," she said with a smirk and a giggle. "We have so much to talk about and I'm desperate to hear about your date with Manu."
"I can't discuss that in public, so that will need to wait until later. Actually, I might collect a fee from you in exchange for information," Hermione said while she placed her hand on her own pussy and sent a knowing glance to Jing. "Maybe you can help sooth the unfortunate thing after it was brutally violated last night."
"I'm your girl, sweetie." Jing stuck out her tongue and made a licking gesture.
Changing the subject Hermione asked, "Tell me about New Zealand. Will I like it?"
As they left the room and walked to the elevator Jing summarized the attractions in New Zealand in three words: natural beauty, unique wildlife, and friendly people. Then she expanded on her themes.
"There is no place on earth like New Zealand for natural beauty. I've been to Switzerland and it comes close, but it falls a little short. Geothermal geysers, glaciers, scenic fjords, and a diversity of natural habitat that's unequaled in any one country on earth. Especially with Oliver as your host, he'll comfortably transport you to all the best places and his staff will service all your needs. Jennifer and all his exes describe the grand treatment they all received when he was courting them. I'll give credit to Oliver for this, he's one of the most sincere promoters of all that New Zealand has to offer. A true believer."
By now they had exited the hotel and began to walk. Hermione's stomach was grumbling.
"Interesting that you put it that way. Am I to receive the grand treatment over his intention to court me? Jing, between you and I that will never happen. There are so many reasons why it won't, not the least of which is I don't intend to become a trophy and then age out a few years later as he goes after something younger. Anyway, I have roots back in England and I'm not a gold digger."
"Of course not," Jing replied. "You're probably the most intelligent and self‑reliant woman that's ever been brought into our social group. But there's another reason to go. Our social group is pretty extensive and you would have the opportunity to seduce and be seduced by your pick of beautiful people. But I don't want you to think that's the wildlife that I mentioned."
Jing stopped in front of what can only be described as one of those restaurants that look like an old‑fashioned rail dining car, like the popular diners north of New York City in the Hudson Valley. It was a little past the lunch hour rush so they had their pick of seating and chose a table in the far corner where they could have some privacy. No sooner had they sat down but the waitress approached them with menus, set their table, then took their drink orders.
"You can go on a whale cruise, see penguins in the wild, swim with dolphins, observe some of the craziest bird species that exist anywhere in the world and, if you want to fly yourself, you can go zip lining and bungee jumping, which were invented in New Zealand. I forgot to mention the shopping but I doubt that holds much importance to you despite those Louboutins I saw on your feet and that Breitling on your wrist. That's another reason why Oliver holds no longer term interest for you."
"First, you're right about Oliver's lack of appeal, although I could fuck him just to increase my dick total. Second, that all sounds wonderful. Third, I have all the shopping I'll ever need in London."
The waitress brought their coffee then took their orders, or at least Jing dictated the orders, and the waitress scurried off.
"Will you sleep with Oliver?"
"I'll fuck Oliver, yes, but I might be more than he expects. I'm not a docile woman unless I choose to be. I'm thinking he's never had a woman take the lead when it comes to sex. I'm wondering if he can handle me."
"Sweetie, I'm dying to find out myself." Jing grinned lasciviously. The waitress came with their orders and now they would be afforded a few minutes of privacy. "Tell me, Hermione, did you sleep with Scott? What is he like?"
"Yes I did and I'm ever so glad I did despite the age gap. Scott is a thoughtful and generous lover. We could never be together long term but that did not inhibit him from giving me the most intimate and loving experience I've ever had with a man. The man has a beautiful soul. He told me about his marriage and it wasn't awkward at all. In fact it was quite endearing. A few days encounter with Scott taught me so much about myself and about intimacy, you have no idea."
Jing was looking a little misty eyed. "That's beautiful, Hermione. I tried to get into his pants but he rebuffed me. I'm quite jealous."
"Your husband is a client. He won't go there. Which also explains why sex with him was so comfortable and intimate, he's a man of integrity."
Jing was right. The biscuits and gravy were just what Hermione needed today. It may have been an American dish but it was so English in character. The hash browns were good too. Hermione was wolfing it down.
"Ok," Jing declared, "enough small talk. I want to know if you fucked Manu and what does he have in his pants."
Hermione paused her eating, "Before we get into that I need you to swear that you will not bring any of the tales about Manu home to Luca."
"Jing objected, "But I tell him everything. He's trustworthy. I won't hide anything from him."
"Tell him anything you want about your activities. What went on between Manu and I did not involve you and, since they work together, it's not a good idea for me to tell you. It's not going to work if you tell your husband. That's the deal."
Jing thought about it momentarily and then realized Hermione was right. "Ok. You're right. Our agreement is to be transparent about what I do, not to share gossip. You're smart, Hermione. Very smart. I can't argue and I promise anything you tell me won't be repeated to anyone. Now, DISH."
In between shoveling food into her mouth Hermione told Jing the story of her date with Manu. She began with their discussion about Oliver and Jennifer. Jing interrupted.
"You're planning to undo the relationship between Oliver and Jennifer and then shovel her over to Scott? I was wrong about you. You're beyond smart. Manu got it exactly right, you're Machiavellian. You're also delicious."
"You can judge how delicious I am later. By the way, I must tell you that your skin smells absolutely amazing. Does your pussy taste as good?" Hermione teased.
Jing repeated her words back to her, "You can judge how delicious my pussy is later. Let's get back to Manu. Did you fuck him or not?"
Continuing the story she told her about the blow job in the bathroom and described in as much detail as she could exactly what he had in his pants. She was just describing the cab ride back to the hotel when the waitress arrived with the check. Jing picked it up. "Are you ready to go, sweet girl?" she asked.
"Yes, I think so."
"I'm going to the register to pay. Meet me out front and you can continue the story on the way back."
On the walk back Hermione described the extreme care that was needed to sit all the way down on that fire plug of a cock. Then, his reversal to the dominant physical position and the total mind fuck experience of what he did to her. By the time they were riding up in the elevator to the room she was finishing with the early morning oral sex and her discovery that he had painted her hair, face, neck and boobs with cum sometime in the night while she was unconscious.
"After showering I wolfed down a pack of these truffles and drank several mineral waters. When you arrived I hadn't recovered yet. Thank you for your patience with me. Watching you at dinner I knew you were kind and thoughtful to people. I'm happy to be your friend."
"Fuck, Hermione, after telling me all of that I'm dripping wet with horniness. Can I fuck you now? Strip for me girl!"
Jing started shedding her clothes and by the time Hermione was naked she was pushed onto her back on the bed and Jing attacked her pussy. She was slow to arouse but Jing's technique was as good as Ginny's, with a soft tongue hitting all the right spots. When she snaked fingers up into her and probed for her G‑spot Hermione began to pant. That being her cue, Jing retrieved her oversized handbag and pulled out a large, black strap‑on. After mounting it she spread Hermione's legs and started working it into her. The dam thing was as girthy as Harry's cock but longer, close to eight‑inches long.
"Careful with that thing," Hermione implored.
"By the time I've got you warmed up you'll be begging for all of it," Jing replied.
That turned out not to be true but it was also likely Jing knew it because after gaging Hermione's reactions she settled into a comfortable rhythm and depth. Then, she reached down to the base of the thing and flipped a switch. The vibrations jolted Hermione in surprise. It wasn't a steady vibration but waves of increasing and decreasing speed and strength. She was moaning loudly in no time. She came and then quickly came again; they weren't earth shattering orgasms but they were amazing. Like echoes in a canyon, her cunt quivered and the strap‑on's vibrations seemed to echo the pleasure back again.
Jing was apparently getting something from it as well as the vibrating toy seemed to be stimulating her as well. Hermione sat up and pushed her off. "Take that fucking thing off and strap it on me," she commanded. Jing complied and in short order she was on the floor on her hands and knees while Hermione rammed the thing into Jing's very wet pussy. Being careful to maintain shallow thrusts, Jing was tipped over the edge several times as the devilish thing lit up her G‑spot. Yes, the vibrations of the evil toy were stimulating Hermione's clit as well and she came several more times while Jing seemed to descend into a stupor of continuous cumming.
Finally Hermione stopped and helped Jing up off the floor and unto the bed. She then began to lick all the pussy juice off her thighs and pussy. "Yes, it's just as sweet as I expected," Hermione wisecracked which evoked giggling from Jing. She cuddled in close, one hand capturing a perky breast and her face nuzzling into the woman's neck where she grew intoxicated by the scent of her beautiful skin. Smell so good!
Jing had already dozed off and before Hermione joined her she wondered if Cho Chang might possibly smell just as good, or better.
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