Ugh. Miki swiped a few wayward strands of hair from her perspiring forehead then stood to look at her employer. “Yes, Kimura-san?”
“I have a function to attend. You may have the rest of the day off.”
Miki gave him a long direct look. It was already past seven in the evening and though the day was pretty much shot to hell this wasn’t like him. Especially when he tended to take such great pleasure in telling her what a lazy American she was by balking at having to work sixty to seventy hours a week.
“Is there a problem? If you wish more work—”
“There’s no problem, Kimura-san,” Miki said quickly before he could change his mind. “Thank you for your kindness. I’ll finish up in here then go to my rooms.”
Miki finished cleaning the last guestroom then went out to make sure that Kimura’s car was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief then decided to take advantage of Kimura’s private bathhouse.
She soaped off and rinsed the sweat from her hair and body, then climbed into the high cypress tub and sunk down until the water was level with her chin. It was like a modern hot tub but so much better with the warm moist air drawing out the fragrant woody smells of the tub and bathhouse floor.
Closing her eyes she reveled in the solitude and enveloping warmth of the water until she felt herself begin to doze. She quickly sat up, giving a little shiver as her warm skin hit the cooler air. Stifling a yawn she climbed out of the tub and toweled off, then slipped on a soft cotton sleeping yukata and headed back to her two room flat situated in a corner of her employer’s home.
It was pure heaven to have the place all to herself for a change and though she’d very much love to hang out in the Inn’s lobby and watch the huge flatscreen TV awhile, she was just too damn tired and also didn’t want to risk Jiro coming home unexpectedly and giving her grief about.
Her own little TV was all but useless not being hooked up to the satellite and she reminded herself that the next time she had to head into town for supplies she needed to try and make a stop at the video store and see what used DVDs they had on sale. She’d watched the ones she already bought so many times she practically knew all the dialogue by heart.
A wry smile tugged at the corner’s of Miki’s mouth as she pondered slipping into Jiro’s room and snagging one of his porn flicks. Admittedly there was no characterization or deep plot to get into but it might be an interesting way to finish off the evening before sleeping and hopefully having another one of her own porn-ish little dreams.
The last thing she needed was for Jiro to come home before she’d be able to sneak the DVD back. She didn’t even want to think how happy and even more horny he’d behave if he got it into his head that she was hot for sex with a Japanese man.
Although she rather was hot for sex with a Japanese man, just any man wouldn’t do. What she wanted was the shadowy lover who’d been creeping into her dreams every few weeks since she came to Japan. Of course she wasn’t a hundred percent certain that he was Japanese since he never came completely into focus.
It was more a feeling that if she could wipe away the weird haziness surrounding him that she’d see a man who looked hot in everything from modern jeans and shirts to traditional clothing, and especially nothing but the loincloth like fundoshi she’s seen him remove a few times before taking her to heights of pleasure the likes of which she’d never fully experienced in real life.
Oh she’d had sex before and good sex at that, but in those dreams it was hotter, better, more fulfilling than what had come before and it left her pleasantly weak and still tingling once she came fully awake. And she was getting wet just remembering it.