Seven o’clock, the black numbers showed clearly against the silver LED background. Tanner noted the time with a sense of detachment, not concerned or hurried, but with an awareness that his guest would soon arrive. A geisha, Tanner thought while gazing out through the expanse of windows in his penthouse apartment.

Tanner rolled the word through his mind again, sampling its meaning as if he could taste its implications. Would she offer sex? Probably, but there was no guarantee. From what little he understood, the geisha were high-class entertainers who serviced the most wealthy and sophisticated men of Japanese society. Certainly, she would be beautiful, no doubt she would possess impressive skills in music, dance, and poetry, but sex? Such erotic pleasures are always suggested, but never explicitly included.

Noboru himself had been evasive on the subject and it was he who had arranged Miharu’s visit. “A gift for you, Tanner-San,” he had said. “In appreciation for your help in closing the Matsu Electronics acquisition of Micro-Tech.”

Tanner couldn't help but smile at the irony. Offering personal gifts from expensive wine, works of art, or even high-class call girls was fairly common in the world of investments Tanner lived in, but being offered the services of a geisha must have been some kind of first, at least in the States. The fact that Noboru knew of one skilled enough to meet his standards was more proof that all things could be found in New York City.

He had questioned Noboru when he spoke of his gift, why something so personal, so intimate? In the end, Tanner decided that decorum dictated that he graciously accept the offering.

Regardless, Tanner was excited by the prospect of sex with such a skilled woman. He was at a point in his life when he had little time to date and his chances to sate his considerable sexual appetite had become scarce. This was more because of his dedication to his work than his ability to lure a woman into his bed. At six-foot-two, he was a striking man, with an analytical mind and subtle wit. He simply hadn't been willing to put the effort into a relationship while he was working eighty hours a week.

He was as meticulous about his appearance as he was about his life and he worked hard at both. As a result, his lean body was sharply defined but not overly muscled. Being a man of multi-racial heritage, Tanner was more aware than most of how easily people tended to form undeservedly limited expectations of others based on their own preconceived notions. Though his dark skin made most people simply assume he was black, the truth, as it usually is, was for more rich and varied.

His mother had always called him a Renaissance man, saying his background of so many races was the future of what humanity would someday be. That knowledge gave him a strength that matched his intellect and allowed him to succeed in the conservative and judgmental world of finance where others so often failed.

In a sense, his corner penthouse on the forty-third floor was simply an extension of himself. The furniture and decor were modern and minimalist, yet still managed to be warm and comforting. With the lighting dimmed, the city lights below made a beautiful backdrop for a living space that provided him a sanctuary away from the ultra fast pace of his work.

This same disciplined self-awareness had become second nature to him, so it was no surprise that he took pains to ensure Miharu would see him for the man he was, rather than just another 'Gaijin' or foreigner that the Japanese so often secretly disdained. He made certain that his normally well-kept space was immaculately clean. Like Japan itself, he mused, the combination of his modern space would contrast perfectly with her traditional skills, providing an ambiance of which he was sure she would approve. How he dressed would be equally important. His choice of a silver-grey leisure suit with a darker silk shirt gave him a look that combined relaxed informality with a sophistication that he was sure would catch her eye.

Pouring two fingers of Hennessy neat, Tanner lifted the tumbler and saluted the thought of his friend. With any luck, though he dared not hope, something else would salute his friend tonight. “Miharu,” he whispered reverently. Her name flowed effortlessly off his tongue and Tanner wondered how it would sound to her. Sipping his drink, Tanner let the stress of business slip from his mind and body, intrigued now by his impending guest.

~~~

Miharu glanced around the open, airy loft and thought again how fortunate she was to be living in New York and studying dance at Juilliard. She often thanked her ancestors for being blessed with the opportunity to be geisha. Wondering what effect leaving had on her family, but not letting it burden her, Miharu recalled how her life evolved over the years.

Destiny. There was no other word for it. Miharu dreamt of the world of geiko since seeing her mother and aunt entertain several businessmen, including her father, as geisha.

The young girl was fascinated, maybe even obsessed, with the lifestyle. The beauty of their attire, their ability to enthrall through poetry, dance, conversation, and as she learned later, even their superior skill in the art of sex immensely appealed to her. Immediately upon telling her mother what she wanted, her family was pleased. So after finishing junior high school, Miharu began her training as a maiko. It would take years, nearly six to be exact, before she became a geisha.

Miharu’s training was intense though it served her well. She exhibited the best of her mother, a superior dancer, and her aunt, the ultimate conversationalist, and poet--those talents, combined with those that were drilled into her by her okasan (house mother) made her one of the best in the okiya where she trained. However, Miharu was not a perfect maiko; she often paid too much attention to the trappings of modern life and western ways. It was that imperfection that brought her to New York City.

During her training, Miharu became deeply interested in ballet. Although she was instructed exclusively in traditional Japanese dance and despite her contract, she applied to and was accepted by Juilliard. Miharu’s father, a powerful businessman, managed to negotiate her departure, and upon being granted the status of geiko (full geisha), Miharu found herself leaving her homeland.

Her father’s connections seemed limitless. Miharu was given a fully furnished loft, a more than adequate bank balance, and the names and addresses of several contacts that lived in New York. While studying dance, Miharu did not wish to hide her status as geisha but instead wanted it to become secondary to what had become her newest obsession; the life of a ballet dancer. Her studies at Juilliard consumed her at times, but the messages from Noboru’s assistants could not be ignored.

Tanner Brock, Noboru said, was a brilliant young investment professional with no time for the fickleness and pretense of dating. Miharu listened intently to the details given, spoken and unspoken. Knowing something about Tanner prior to their meeting seemed like a good idea, so she learned everything that she could via an in-depth web search.

Preparing for their meeting, Miharu paid much attention to the details. She would not meet him in full geisha attire as she didn’t feel that it was important for this meeting, but she did prepare with care. Miharu lingered in the warm and fragrant bath. Images of Tanner, of his deep, bright eyes and his trim and powerful body, played through her as she slowly sponged her legs. He was exotic and remarkably handsome, and she sighed as the telltale warmth of arousal slowly began coursing through her body. Soon, her hand moved over her mons and she allowed a single finger to slide into her rapidly moistening slit. "Ah, yes," she whispered as her finger began playing with all the skill she had learned in her life.

The young geisha embraced the moment, caressing her tender flesh until the heat she felt in her core matched that of the water embracing her skin. Her other hand cupped her pert breast, gently pinching her dark nipple until tortuous pleasure began pulsing through her. There were no hurried or jerking movements, and the bath barely stirred as she wound the sensation into a magical aura that made her heart beat with the rhythm of her desire.

Every nerve in her body was tuned into that aura and she let it grow, consuming her body in a dance of gratification that caused her legs to tense and shake. Her breath grew deeper as she approached the edge and the single finger was joined by another. Every nuance of her skill built her arousal until she felt her orgasm burn like the sun. She was more than able to ride the edge for as long as she desired, but on this night, her duty lay with the man who had so powerfully captured her thoughts. With him in mind, she drove herself over the edge and cried out softly as her orgasm thundered through her body. Relief poured through her and she felt a strong desire to lay in the water and let it caress her now tired muscles, but time was passing too rapidly and she composed herself, wrapping her mind in her professionalism as surely as she would soon wrap her body in silk.

Afterward, Miharu carefully considered her attire as she prepared to dress. A simple golden silk kimono with flecks of vibrant primary colors spread throughout it was her choice for the evening, perhaps if Mr. Brock was worthy, she would don the full attire of the geisha at a future meeting. Did she even want a second encounter? As handsome as he was, Miharu wasn’t sure. She’d only agreed to this meeting as a courtesy to Noboru, and she didn’t necessarily need the money. She swept her hair up in a loose, elegant bun and noting the time, she applied her makeup--again nothing traditional, just enough that he would be able to recognize what she was.

“A limo.” Miharu uttered breathlessly, “Noboru’s generosity has no bounds.” She glanced in the mirror a final time and satisfied that the kimono was near perfect and her makeup was flawless, the modern geisha gracefully took her leave.

Thankful for the limo and the time it took to arrive at his penthouse, the oddly nervous Miharu replayed the conversation with Noboru. Miharu was impressed--beyond impressed with Mr. Tanner Brock. His accomplishments were plentiful, but she was accustomed to the very best in that regard, so those things didn’t alter her opinion of him one way or another. Still, there was something that compelled her... something definitely out of reach but undeniably real that made her take the meeting. Oh, she recognized the intelligence, the handsome face, and incredibly toned body, even his eyes mesmerized her, but it was something in Noboru’s words that formed her impression.

‘Surely,’ Miharu thought, ‘surely he is not what I’ve made him out to be in my mind.’ The limo ride did little to settle her nerves. The voice of her okasan sounded in her head. “Calm, young maiko, remember your place. Remember what you are.” And with that, Miharu closed her eyes and remembered.

“Enjoy your evening, miss,” said the driver as he opened the door for her.

Miharu bowed her head and simply said, “Thank you.”

The building in front of her was magnificent, and as she looked up she thought she saw the silhouette of the man that she had been summoned to entertain for the evening.

~~~

Tanner hadn't realized he was staring out the wall-sized window until he heard the chime from his door. Glancing at the clock, he noted with satisfaction that it read 7:03. "Excellent, she's right on time,” he said to himself as he came to the door.

Being punctual was important to him and it would have felt awkward had she been late, so he was pleasantly relieved that she was not. Still, he felt an unexpected rush of excitement, and he took a moment to compose himself before opening the door.

Nevertheless, the vision of beauty he beheld upon opening it almost left him speechless. Miharu, for that was surely who she was, stood nearly a full foot shorter than he and her golden kimono covered her slim frame with a subtle beauty that was very formal and yet still highlighted her curves in a way that made his mouth go dry. Large, almond-shaped eyes gazed at him, surrounded by a face that was delicate and smooth. "Miharu, it is an honor to meet you. Please, come in," he managed to say without letting his voice show his sudden excitement.

"Thank you, Mr. Brock," she demurely replied as she dutifully followed him into his foyer.

Her English was flawless, with just enough of a Japanese lilt to perfectly fit his image of what she would be like. Following the direction of his arm, Miharu lead the way into his living room. As she paused to take in the grand, city vista, he had time to appreciate the delicate grace in the way she moved. She seemed to almost float as she made her way to the window. A small, wicker basket was gently clasped in her hands in a way that made her appear both submissive and comfortable in his presence.

Her bearing and dignity, it was almost regal, had caught him off guard and he struggled for a moment, unsure exactly how to proceed. "Can I get you something," seemed the most appropriate opening but when he asked, Miharu turned with a smile and just slightly shook her head.

"No, Tanner-San. I am here for your pleasure tonight. Please allow me to serve you."

Feeling slightly chided the way a child might, Tanner relented to her care. "Of course. I would very much enjoy that."

Miharu nodded politely but her smile grew even warmer. "Then, please sit. It will be my pleasure to entertain you tonight."

Tanner was quickly becoming enamored with his guest. She was sweet and confident yet managed to make him feel like a man. He stepped toward his couch with every intention of complying with her wish but paused when her hand rose to her mouth, hiding a smile that turned into a grin. "No, on the floor, please. We can sit close and face each other as we begin, yes?"

Tanner felt a blush rise in his cheeks. He should have remembered that the Japanese often sat on mats, but Miharu's ease had him feeling off balance. Gathering himself, he sat, cross-legged on the rich carpeting. "Thank you, Tanner-San," she replied coyly and carefully knelt in front of him. Even this motion seemed effortless to her and her kimono remained smooth and unruffled by her movement. "Would you prefer tea or saki?" she inquired as her dark eyes held his.

Tanner smiled. "Saki, I think. I could use a drink, right about now."

"Of course," she replied with a soft laugh. "You are a man, and a man should always feel comfortable in a woman's care."

Opening her basket, she pulled out a small, porcelain decanter and a matching cup, no bigger than a shot glass. These she handled with extraordinary care, pouring the liquid without spilling a single drop. Then, using both hands, Miharu handed him the cup and waited for him to drink.

"None for you?" he asked, but she shook her head, more emphatically than the last time.

"No, Tanner-San. This night is for you. I am here as your guest and your geisha. It would be inappropriate for me to drink. Please, taste it and tell me how it makes you feel."

Once again, Tanner felt the unease of his ignorance of her customs but he swallowed the liquor without hesitation. It was smooth and burned only slightly as it went down. "That was wonderful, Miharu," he responded as he sat the cup between them.

"It is a favorite in Tokyo. It will help you relax," she told him as she refilled the cup as carefully as she had before.

"I can see why."

Miharu watched patiently as he sipped, and then, as the moments slowed, she began to sing to him. The words were of her land, but the tone and beauty of her voice filled the room with a feeling of peace and tranquility. Tanner sat back, gazing at her as her voice carried to him, and he began to feel swept away in whatever tale she was singing. He wasn't sure how much time passed as she sang to him, but he finished another shot before her voice finally grew silent.

"That was magnificent," he told her, and the honesty in his words made Miharu blush in a way that made his blood run hot.

"It was the story of two lovers defying their lord to be together," she told him. "Love is a universal feeling, yes?"

"Yes, it is. I could feel it in the song."

"You are too kind, Tanner-San. There is much poetry written about love. I know many, but they would have little meaning to you. However, if it pleases you, I know much more by poets of the west."

Tanner had never been much for poetry, but then he never would have guessed her singing would have affected him so deeply. With a slight nod, he asked her to quote some for him. For the next hour, Miharu recited poems from Angelou, Keats, Bogan and many more he had never heard of. Each was spoken with a heartfelt passion that had him riveted to every word. She was intoxicating, and though he had long forgotten his pent-up desire for her body, he began to feel an attraction that went far more deeply into his soul. Every word seemed a love sonnet meant only for him, and his desire for her grew strong and profound in a way he could never have expected.

Eventually, sitting in this unfamiliar position began to take its toll. He was having the time of his life with the Asian beauty, but he could no longer quell his tired muscles as they complained.

"You grow tired, Tanner-San. We must get you to relax. Please, where is your bedroom?"

Her blunt request caught him by surprise, and his desire for her instantly spiked. "This way," he too eagerly replied and began to rise, but Miharu eased him back to the floor with a light touch to his shoulder.

"No, Tanner-San," she softly urged. "Please stay here. I will be right back."

Then, with the preternatural grace she displayed all evening, she effortlessly rose and padded off to his room. Moments later, she returned with a blanket and a couple of bath towels tucked under her arm.

“Please, stand. I will remove your clothes and give you a massage." Tanner could have been knocked over with a feather, but fighting the cramps in his legs, he rose without complaint. "Hmm, you are a large man, Tanner-San," she mused as she carefully eased his jacket over his broad shoulders.

Tanner remained silent as her hands caressed his chest through his shirt. Her fingers flicked and played over the buttons, opening it until his bare chest became exposed in the dimmed lighting. Miharu sung quietly as she touched him, letting him feel her hands on his skin in unbroken moments as she removed his shirt. The song felt like the mutterings of a lover and his penis began to harden as her palms traveled over his abdomen on their way to his slacks. A shiver ran up his spine when she knelt in front of him and drew the button through the eye. "Oh, my gosh, Miharu..." he said in a low moan.

He half expected her to touch his cock, but her hands carefully avoided the rising bulge. Instead, she lowered the zipper and slowly drew his pants downward, exposing first his well-defined hips before his penis appeared and rose pridefully toward her. Miharu smiled and blushed as his erection grew close, and she lightly let her fingers caress his impressive length.

"Yes. Tanner-San, you are a very big man."

With any American woman, Tanner would have expected her mouth to engulf him at the point, but Miharu continued to surprise him by moving away and spreading the blanket on the floor. "Please, lay on your stomach," she requested innocently.

Tanner was in no position to argue, and as he had all night, he followed her will. The blanket felt soft over the carpeting and he quickly relaxed as she stood in front of him. Then, wordlessly, she reached back and untied the knot holding the sash around her waist. Tanner's gaze was fixed on her as she opened her dress. Underneath, her slim and toned body appeared, covered only in a black lace brassiere and a matching scrap of cloth that barely covered her womanhood.

More than ever, her feline grace inflamed him and his cock began to throb as he took in her beauty. Her breasts were larger than he expected and seemed incredibly firm. Her flat stomach was toned and rose erotically with her breath. Letting his gaze fall, he took in every curve and line of her body, right down to her legs. She was incredible and his heart beat rapidly as the idea of plunging his cock into her became a roaring desire.

"You are a very handsome man," she praised as she moved behind him. He almost rolled over to take her in his arms, but her hand on his back stayed his effort. "Please, relax. I am going to massage you."

Miharu felt him give in to the gentle prodding on his back and wondered if he would continue to reach for her. She knelt on the side of Tanner, slightly intimidated by his size, but her own strength invigorated her enough for her to continue the intimate task. She’d been prepared for the massage but strangely, she was not prepared for the shock of finding him so incredibly in tune with her. He seemed to be acutely aware of her needs when it was she that should have been more aware of his.

Her eyes took in the sight of long, sinewy limbs and the subtle curve of his ass where it connected to powerful thighs. She longed to throw herself on top of him but chose to reach for the oil in her basket instead. Miharu poured the odorless oil down his legs sensing that he ached to feel her there first. Small but strong hands rubbed the oil into taut muscles that surrendered to her every action.

Her attention to him, her devotion to his pleasure, compelled her to reach for his shoulders and the oil seemed to burn her as she made contact with the smooth skin. Suddenly, she understood that it was his skin that had grown considerably warmer as she moved from limb to limb.

Miharu leaned down close to Tanner’s ear and in her native tongue she whispered, “Turn over.” A moan escaped his lips before he understood and did as she suggested. She again poured oil over him, stopping only to glance at his body with admiration. Just as suddenly as Miharu realized that he was burning with need, she decided. Standing and smiling as she did so, the young geisha removed her bra and the inadequate cloth that covered her sex.

“Beguiling,” Tanner uttered breathlessly.

“Thank you, Tanner-San.” Miharu continued, “This is not what you think but please… just relax.”

Slowly, she freed her hair from the bun; soft tendrils of hair settled on her face and a cascade of dark, wavy locks fell upon well-toned shoulders.

Miharu lifted the bottle of oil and throwing her head back, she poured the oil down her body. Her body swayed and gyrated to music that only she could hear and before she could stop herself, she began to dance for him.

Quicker than a snake prepared to strike, Tanner sat up and with a gasp expelling from the ‘O’ of his mouth he watched her, words exploding inside his mind--though none escaped his lips--he soaked her in, honored that she chose to share with him in this manner. Shocked and now even more captivated by his guest’s beauty, poise, and sexuality, Tanner sat, speechless and extremely aroused at her performance.

Miharu opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of Tanner as he reached for his thickening muscle, which she did not want. It was her duty to serve him. “No, Tanner-San!”

Alarmed at the ardent tone of her voice he stilled his hand. “What?”

“My desire is to please you, Tanner-San,” she said bending to push him onto his back. Words gave way to a soft hum while she applied oil to their skin. She went to his feet and began to massage them. Her fingers kneaded the pliable muscles of his thighs; Miharu pressed on. Suddenly, her hands pressed against him urging his thighs to open and when there was enough space for her to sit between them she did and laid her hands on his chest. They both breathed deeply as her hair fell on the vee of his pelvis. Unaware of what she had in mind, Tanner simply let her be and enjoyed the aroma of her sex as it filled the heavy, sexually charged air. Time seemed to stand still as she began to rub her body along his in a dance of their own design. Skin heated, breath quickened, and desire spiked in Miharu as she increased the pace of her movements.

Enjoying the massage much more than she should, Miharu’s breasts heaved as she stopped at the core of his legs where his erection pointed toward the heavens. Considering her next move, she heard Tanner’s quick intake of breath and soft moan and with a burst of inspiration, she blew warm breath on his cock and gently took it in her hands.

Her breathing was laborious but her dedication and devotion to him could not go lacking. Miharu fell back into a sitting position between his legs and began to stroke his lengthening, veiny muscle. She was fascinated by its size and it was in that instant that she realized that he was much more than what she initially thought of him in her mind… significantly more.

“Very large indeed,” she murmured as her hands gripped him tighter. She then released him and poured more oil in her hands. “Tanner-San, you will come for me, yes?” She questioned Tanner while pumping his twitching cock up and down in her delicate hands.

Not expecting an answer, Miharu continued to stroke him but recognized his not so subtle grunt as an affirmative. She loosened her grip and moved her hand clockwise around his thickness and then tightened her grip moving counter clockwise, it was a move that nearly pushed him over the edge. So she varied her motions; slow and fast, loose and tight, up and down, Miharu let her actions bring him to the verge of a rapidly building orgasm time and time again until he snarled in a fit of intense arousal.

“Please!” Swiftly, she dropped a hand to his sac and massaged his balls while still pumping his shaft with one hand. Tanner stiffened. “I’m going to,” he uttered. He heard her speaking in her native tongue.

“Come for me, Tanner.” This time, instinctively, he knew what she said. His body convulsed, muscles tightened and shook as ejaculate burst from his sac and spilled like hot lava onto her hands. His thighs tensed powerfully while Miharu, silently pleased with herself and eyes bulging, slowed her motions and felt a surge of liquid heat explode in her mons.

She stood while he succumbed to the wave of aftershocks the orgasm produced. It was no surprise that he looked at her with an unspoken question in his eyes. “No, Tanner-San. This is not about me.” Miharu rose and left for his bedroom. When she returned she dressed and gently, almost with reverence, she knelt and dropped a soft kiss on his sleeping head.

~~~

Tanner scrolled through a series of reports, tracing a line of financing that led to a mid-sized corporation specializing in stainless steel bolts. It was a relatively unknown company, called Harman Bolt and Screw, that by any means should be long past being considered a growth industry. So why, he asked himself, did it just apply for a multi-million dollar loan?

Such a risky move exposed the company terribly, and it was just the type of atypical move he specialized in unraveling. He spent the next several hours researching the management of the company before he found his link. As often happens, that link came in the form a news report on an altogether different matter. Gazing at a local news story from Muncie, Indiana, he found a short piece on a visit by Senator Alyson Clarke and low and behold, there was the CEO of Harman Bolt and Screw standing next to her in the shot.

To Tanner, that was the smoking gun. Harman's loan and their association with a senator who just happened to be pushing for a major public works project in the state could only mean Harman had the inside track on a very lucrative government contract. Once announced, the company's stock was going to soar. With a satisfied grin, he tapped his keys and purchased a sizable stake in the firm.

Leaning back, Tanner smiled in victory. With a little research, he made a move that was going to pay off in the high seven figures. It was the kind of morning that would normally have made his week, but somehow, he felt empty despite his success.

Steepling his dark fingers, Tanner gave up his attempt at ignoring the lingering thought that had been eating away at him since the weekend and let his mind drift back to his night with Miharu. It had been an incredible evening. Of that, he made no effort to deny. What worried him now was the fact that he couldn't get her out of his mind.

She had aroused him in a way that no woman ever had, and although he had thoroughly enjoyed the explosive release she gave him, he longed to know what it would have been like to actually fuck that beautiful young geisha. Just the thought of holding her in his arms and kissing her made his cock grow hard, and he savored the thought as one might let a piece of fine chocolate linger on their tongue.

It was a warm thought, but something told him that wasn't why he was so fixated. Sex was important to him, but not so much that it ever interfered with his work. No, that wasn't it. It was she he couldn't stop thinking about, not what he longed to do with her. He just wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again, to hear her voice and see her smile. She made him calm, and compared to that, the simple act of sex seemed... Unworthy.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he allowed the thought of her to wreak havoc on his mind, trying to analyze it in the way he had the Harman deal, but it defied him. Deep down, he knew he had to see her again, hopefully not as a client, but as something more. The question was how?

His friend, Noboru, had set up the date and Tanner had no other way of reaching her. Under that circumstance, asking him for her number would have been quite inappropriate. Still, he knew there had to be a way. "Noboru said she studied ballet," he mused to himself and that was the link he needed. Feeling the rush of the chase, Tanner sat up and began his search.

Skilled fingers tapped rapidly on keys, cross referencing what he knew of her in the tangled web of information that was the Internet. Within minutes, he found her trail and was astonished as he gazed at her picture as she appeared on the screen. Gone was the traditional look of a geisha, but her almond eyes and incredible smile looked no less alluring as a featured ballerina in a joint showcase by the New York City Ballet and The Juilliard School. Feeling the satisfying calm a multi-million dollar deal had failed to give him, he quickly ordered a front row ticket for the final night of the showcase.

~~~

“Mr. Tanner Brock,” she whispered to herself for the hundredth time since their meeting.

Miharu could not get the man out of her mind no matter how many times she tried. He took up residence there and she couldn’t find a way to evict him. Honestly, though, she didn’t want to evict him; she wanted to embrace him but felt it inappropriate. Each night since feeling his life’s force coat her hands, she thought of his body… his mind... his... well, all of him; his essence elicited a lecherous desire inside her that frankly, she simply couldn’t comprehend.

Every day she battled for focus and concentration and every day she failed. It had to stop before it affected her ability to prepare for the showcase. Needing to put an end to the Tanner madness, Miharu did something she very seldom did, she called Noboru.

Noboru took her call but made no attempt to help when she spoke so vaguely. He called her a schoolgirl and nearly ended the call. Miharu spoke quickly, inviting him and a guest to her final performance with the NYC ballet. She let him decipher her offering and shyly ended the call. There was no other action that she could take; well, of course, there was, but it just wasn’t her style. If Noboru couldn’t get Tanner to attend the showcase, then their coupling would not occur.

Her speaking to Noboru didn’t halt the dreams that invaded her sleep. In fact, the dreams intensified, becoming more and more explicit and erotic. Breathing erratically, skin slick with sweat and fingers thickly coated with her juices, Miharu would awaken longing for his touch. There was no going back to sleep without bringing herself to orgasm; the thought of riding him--legs wrapped tightly around him, that damn perfect pelvic vee grinding against her, pushed her to a thunderous climax... every... single... time.

She had to have him; the constant yearning had to stop.

The last couple of days before the showcase with the New York City ballet were difficult. However, Miharu was pleased to learn that Noboru and a guest would be attending. Secretly, she was pleased; the thought of Tanner watching her performance pleased her and created a surge of heat through her sex.

On the day of the performance, Miharu received gifts from family, friends, and Tanner, which was a complete surprise. He asked that he’d be allowed backstage to see her after the finale; she agreed and sent word.

Nerves flooded her minutes before she took the stage, but once the music for her entrance began, all she did was feel it and her every movement was graceful and fluid. Her body became one with the choreography and as Tanner watched, he became even more aware of her beauty.

Tanner waited for all the admirers and benefactors of the ballet to leave before approaching Miharu. Finally, he leaned in and brushed a soft kiss on her cheek while handing her a bouquet of gorgeous red roses.

“Thank you, Tanner-San.” Her skin still flush from the exuberance of her performance, she smiled and breathed in the scent of his gift.

“You’re welcome, beautiful,” Tanner said. Growing aroused from just staring at her and wanting to spend time with her, he spoke the first thing that came into his head. “Please have a dr…”

“Tanner-San, would you…”

They both stopped, realizing that they were speaking at the same time. Laughter spontaneously erupted between them.

“Come home with me for a nightcap?” Miharu said boldly.

~~~

As Tanner watched Miharu open the door to her loft, it struck him how subtly different she was in her normal life than she had been as his geisha. The way she moved, the less formal way she spoke and even her smile all seemed to be more relaxed and natural. It dawned on him that under the trappings of her traditional role, lay a modern and independent woman with a surprisingly keen mind. Not that he had doubted the latter, or minded the former. It was simply that the longer he knew her, the more he became aware of her many layers.

"I hope you like my loft," she said hopefully, as the door parted from the jam. "It's small and not as grand as your penthouse, but it's home to me."

Following behind her, he took in the loft and was immediately impressed with the soothing tones and understated, Japanese decor. "It's lovely," he replied, barely able to suppress his mirth. She was adorable, and as she turned to face him, he took her hand in his. "It's a beautiful reflection of who you are, Miharu."

The moment became electric as her fingers softly curled around his. She'd invited him up for tea, but now, with her hand in his, the innocence of that offer began to feel like a charade. It seemed very natural when her other hand found his. "I... I don't often do this, Tanner. Inviting men to my loft, that is. It's just that I've been thinking about you so much."

Tanner shushed her gently and gave her hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "I have no doubt, Miharu. I haven't been able to think of anything but you since you left me sleeping on the floor."

In that moment, Tanner wished desperately he could know what she was thinking. They were in that magical place where he was sure she wanted him as much as he did her, but the threshold to real intimacy lay before them. Still, he could feel the tremble in her hands, and he could see the longing in her eyes. His heart screamed for him to believe and he was certain she could see those same signs in him. There were no words for it, none that either could speak without risking everything, so he did the one thing that was left to him.

Releasing her hand, he slipped his arm around her slim waist and drew her close. Miharu glided into his embrace, surrendering to him with all the grace he had seen before, and then they were kissing, softly, deeply and without reservation. With that, the connection was made and they both knew where the night would take them.

Miharu's heart fluttered as his lips found hers and she gave in to the desire with all of her being. All she knew was that it felt good in his arms. She had wanted him so badly and now, here he was, not as a client or host, but simply as a man. When his tongue flicked out, she accepted it, letting it merge with hers as her body responded in the only way it knew how.

The moment was heated and she could feel his arousal growing by the second. There was a fire in him now and she knew it would burn uncontrollably if she allowed it to consume him so quickly. The heat was a welcome relief but as tempting as an urgent rush to ecstasy was, she wanted more to be loved and to love in return.

It took all her will, but she broke the kiss and stepped out of his embrace. Even then, the moist tingle on her lips fought her efforts at self-control, but discipline won out. "You kiss very well, Tanner," she told him with a smile. "But I need a shower. Please, make yourself a drink. I won't be long."

When Tanner nodded, Miharu slipped away, feeling like she was escaping from a place she didn't want to leave. It was a new sensation for her and she wondered happily what she might have done if he'd just swept her up in his powerful arms. Once in the bath, she leaned against the door, wondering how it would feel to have his strength unleashed on her. Moisture gushed in her sex and she smiled at the thought.

Tanner was left speechless and amused by her sudden withdrawal. He loved the mix of confidence and humility she displayed. He stood there for a long moment, wearing a smile he couldn't control and considered his next move. She was sexy as hell, but her naturally reserved nature meant she would constantly be fighting him for control. The thought actually made him even more aroused, and he laughed as he realized how similar they were. They were both type A personalities and he sensed this battle for dominance would be a game that never ended. "Well then, Miharu, I'm not going to make it that easy for you."

With his mind made up, he followed her path until he reached the bathroom door. Behind it, he could hear the sound of running water and beneath that, the gentle lilt of her voice as she softly sang. With a care that equaled her pouring of saki, he opened the door and joined her in the bath.

Miharu froze as she saw him come in. She was standing nude, her arms raised as she pinned her hair in a bun.

"Let it down," was all he said and after the briefest pause, she drew the pin away and let her silken hair cascade downward, flowing over her breasts. The sight of her like that, the perfection of her body, the rise of her breasts and the submissive but equally excited glint in her eyes, made his knees grow weak. He must have looked every bit as enthralled as he felt, because the edges of her full lips curled upward, and without a word she stepped into the spray.

Miharu began to cleanse her body but stopped short, realizing that what she desired most was intently watching her. Rivulets of hot water cascaded down her body and she extended the body wash to him. “Wash me, Tanner.”

With quickness she didn’t know he possessed, Tanner grabbed the soap from her and entered the shower fully clothed. He squirted the fragrant soap in his palms and cautiously--almost reverently, massaged her breasts.

“Miharu,” he whispered while soapy hands explored heated, goose-pimpled flesh. “Let me love you.”

Wordlessly, Miharu reached for his soaked trousers. She longed to see what had grown inside them, yearned to feel it in her delicate hands but Tanner had other plans. Within seconds, he showed her just what was on his mind. His hands massaged and teased her flesh while his lips caressed her neck, her lips--every inch of flesh that his mouth could reach felt his hunger and her every nerve ending was set ablaze.

Surprising herself, Miharu broke contact and staring intensely in his eyes, tore open his shirt exposing his heaving chest. She splayed her hands across it and finally found her voice. Miharu spoke softly but with urgency, “Tanner please, I need you.”

Tanner dropped to his knees and pressing his mouth into the vee at the juncture of shivering legs, he teased her with his mouth. He slid his tongue along her labia while his finger pressed into the warmth of her tight pussy. “Delicious,” he uttered while inhaling her aroma. Miharu sucked in the steamy air, desperate yet grateful for the attention of his mouth.

“Tan-nerrr,” she half spoke, half moaned while gyrating sensually on his mouth.

Again, she danced, though this time it was not a solo. His mouth joined her body in a wet dance of fevered flesh. And soon his cock was aching to cut in.

Sensing that Miharu was on the precipice of climax, Tanner let his teeth glide over her sensitive nub and slid his fingers deep inside her, pressing on that spongy spot he knew would send her screaming over the edge and into ecstasy. Liquid heat flooded her body as the orgasm tore through her; thighs shook as her pussy clenched, fingernails dug into broad shoulders, and the scream that tore from her mouth was guttural and incredibly animalistic. It was everything she dreamt about and more.

Now, though, as this ebony Adonis rose in front of her, Miharu sensed he had moved beyond her ability to control. She could feel the tension growing within him like a hunger, a feral need that would not be sated until she was consumed in its ferocity.

He seemed huge as he stood before her, and his dark eyes blazed with heated excitement as they traveled over her body. Miharu felt his desire and trembled with her own as his gentle touch became forceful and urgent. Pinning her arms to the shower wall, she whimpered as Tanner buried his face in her neck, sucking and biting at her throat with such raw passion that she could barely breathe. His cock, long, hard, and powerful rubbed insistently at her belly, letting her feel what would soon be inside her.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she prepared for him, yet still could not stifle a gasp as he easily lifted her, raising her high on the wall before plunging his thickness deep into her clenching sex. His sudden intrusion filled her, stretching her around his shape so completely that her breath was driven forcefully from her chest.

Held high up on the wall, Miharu encircled him with her legs, combining her strength with his. Flexing her toned legs, she rose and fell on his length, drawing herself onto him each time he thrust upward until she had all of him inside her. Adjusting to his size, she began to lead, letting the boundless energy she displayed on stage resurface, creating a searing need that made her want to please him in every possible way.

Holding him tightly, she opened herself to the desperation of Tanner’s movements; her lower back smacked the wet tile as he fiercely pummeled the pussy he intended to claim as his own. Fascinated by his lust, she watched his face while she squeezed his cock, matching every ferocious stroke that he gave with the passion of her own. Soon, she sensed he was nearing his peak. With her lips inches from his ear, Miharu whispered, “Come.”

And he did.

Tanner had not intended for his climax to come as quickly or as violently as it did, but the way she clamped the walls of her pussy around his pistoning cock left him no choice. He could feel the muscles in his thighs grow taut, and heat in his belly grew and spread through him until he could no longer resist the inevitable. Slamming his cock deeply into her, he growled in pleasure as ejaculate exploded from him, filling her with the essence of his masculinity.

Tanner barely felt the water falling on his back as he loosened his grip on his lover. He felt suddenly weak and collapsed against her as his weary legs threatened to fail. He felt Miharu holding him and caressing his flanks as his breathing slowed. When he looked up into her eyes, she smiled pleasantly and glossed his lips with a tender kiss.

“Please, Tanner-San, can we do that again?”

"Yes, we can do it again and again, Miharu," he replied, knowing beyond doubt that he could never let her go.