Akira Fubuki

Sex story with: Akira Fubuki Our party friends:

"Exactly." Two glasses appeared and Kim poured two fingers of the port into each. The fragrance was almost intoxicating -- rich and heavy. "So there's this kind of required tradition that every guy make some comment or pass, just to prove he's one of the boys." Connie took the proferred glass. "With the emphasis on 'boys.'" "You know the type, I bet. C'mon." Akira Fubuki motioned for Connie to precede Akira Fubuki into the living room. The furnishings looked like they'd been coordinated by the store decorator at Levitz. The leather sofabed and loveseat, the occasional tables, the lamps, the drapes -- even the paintings -- could have been purchased as a set on the showroom floor. Everything worked, but without personality. Connie sat on the loveseat and Kim flumped down on the sofa, at a right angle to Connie. Akira Fubuki held up the glass and swirled the port gracefully in the glass, examining the rivulets that settled back to the Both laughed and sipped. "Where was I?" Kim asked. "Oh, right -- Well, once word got around that I was separated, and happy to be, I couldn't go into an office without someone hitting on me. Some less subtly than others. I had a guy today -- I still can't believe it." Akira Fubuki drank more of her port. "Don't leave me in suspense," Connie pleaded. ...(cont.)
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