Part One

It sounds a bit farfetched, but I had the greatest sexual experience of my life because I organized a table tennis tournament well! It’s a bit of a long story, but bear with me and I’ll explain what happened.

My name is Barry Stafford. In 1980, I was 20 years old and looking for employment. As a high school student, I was slightly better than average, usually pulling in Bs and a few As on my report cards. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life quite yet. Unlike many of my friends, I chose not to enroll in college just for the sake of occupying my time with courses that might or might not lead me to a career somewhere. With my parents’ blessing, I began looking for work that I would find both interesting and rewarding. I wasn’t having much luck. I’d signed up with a temp agency and had gotten a few boring and utterly unfulfilling manual labor jobs. However, the experience proved to be valuable as I learned that type of work was something I didn’t want to do until I retired.

One skill that I had—and didn’t realize it was something that was in demand—was organizational aptitude. I was apparently exceptional at planning things well and not overlooking any details small or large. In the fifth grade, when I saw my teacher, Mr. Wells, was struggling to create a schedule of when each student in the class was supposed to do a five-minute speech on any topic, I volunteered to create one for him. He gave me the green light...and I completed it in about three minutes. “You have a real knack for this, Barry!” he complimented me. To me, though, being organized was just part of my persona. I was wired that way.

Ten years later, my mother, who was involved with various charities, had volunteered herself to organize a table-tennis tournament to benefit the local hospital’s cancer ward. The local table tennis club had agreed to lend my mother their venue one Saturday. Players could sign up for the event at an individual cost of $15 if they wanted to play singles or $25 per twosome if they wanted to play in the doubles event. Mom arranged for local businesses to provide refreshments and prizes. She was excellent at any sort of sweet-talking to obtain sponsors. What she was absolutely hopeless at was actually devising a tournament format. She was utterly lost—so she sought my help.

The first problem was that she had no definite idea how many entrants were going to show up. She explained that people were merely encouraged to prepay for the tournament in advance, but it wasn’t a requirement. I gave her a dirty look, indicating that she was inviting chaos this way. To make her happy, I said I’d show up at the event with her and make sure everything ran properly.

On the day of the event, I accompanied Mom to the venue armed with a ream of lined paper, pencils, a ruler, and a pocket calculator—and my highly organized brain. As it turned out, there were 38 people who showed up to for the singles event—as did 22 teams of doubles players. When my mother asked what she could do, I told her firmly but affectionately to stay out of my way. She happily obliged. She was content to greet people as they arrived and leave me alone to do the organizing.

I got everyone’s names as they entered and collected their fees if they hadn’t prepaid. There were five tables which I numbered. I assigned the singles players to the first three. I put the 38 singles players into groups of six or seven, devised a round-robin schedule for each group, with the divisional winners moving to a knockout stage. At Tables Four and Five, I did something similar with the doubles teams. Each “match” was abridged to one game—with the first player or team to reach 21 points getting the win. (To my mother’s amazement, three individuals and one doubles team failed to show, despite prepaying their entry fees. “That’s extra money for the charity, ” I told her.) Every entrant or team got to play at least five games, got a free pizza lunch, and went home happy as everything had run like clockwork.

During the prize ceremony, my mother graciously (and accurately) said the event would have been “a complete fiasco” if I had not been present to devise the schedules and groups. All 82 players gave me a standing ovation—which was nice and totally unexpected.

As people began to depart, one of the doubles teams, a father-daughter duo, approached me. The man, who looked to be about 55, was well known as a prominent businessman. Everyone knew he was quite wealthy from his import business. I only knew him by reputation. He shook my hand and told me, “Young man, that was one of the most impressive feats of organization I’ve ever seen in my life, considering the hectic circumstances. I already told you my name when I arrived, but I’m Joseph Canfield. I need someone like you. Would you like a job as my personal assistant?”

I didn’t have a chance to answer him as his daughter spoke before I did. “I’m his daughter, Melissa, ” she told me. “I’m Dad’s present assistant, but I’ll be getting married in a month, so Dad needs someone to replace me. Based on what we saw you do here today, we both think you would be ideal for the job.”

I finally introduced myself and said the offer was appealing—considering the sizable amount of money he offered me to be his personal assistant/organizer. It would require my traveling with him all over the world to make sure he got on the right planes and was at the right venues at the right time. Melissa said, “Dad is a great businessman, but as for him being well organized...forget it!” I noted that Mr. Canfield did not dispute this statement at all. He just smiled and nodded.

“Maybe you’re related to my mother,” I joked.

I was given a general idea about what my duties would entail, and I quickly accepted the job offer. I was to start at 9 a.m. on Monday.

Before he left, Mr. Canfield asked me if I had a passport. I said I did, but I hadn’t yet used it.

“That’s good, but you’ll certainly be using it as my employee.” He handed me a $100 bill to pay for it—which was about three times what it cost me to buy it. I accurately figured I’d like this job.

Part Two

I showed up at Mr. Canfield’s office at 9 a.m. on Monday. He immediately insisted that I address him as Joseph, which I did from that point onward. He explained that he would be travelling to the Philippines on business—with me tagging along—a week from that day. He gave me a copy of where he had to be and when. He told me to book our flights and our hotel in Manila, telling me that he preferred business class seating on the plane and a hotel that was mid-ranged in price. “We don’t need to fly coach, and we don’t need to stay in a fleabag hotel—but we don’t need to be excessively extravagant, either.”

I got the general idea and made the reservations by telephone via a travel agent. I also asked him to show me his passport. He gave me a puzzled look. I said, “I want to check something.” I looked at the expiration date. “Are you aware your passport will expire in about four months?” I asked him. Joseph wasn’t—and he was grateful that I had pointed this out to him. “Let’s begin the process of getting that renewed today.”

That night I got a call from Melissa who told me how happy her father had been with me after just a single day’s work. “My father is exceedingly generous when it comes to rewarding people who do exceptional work for him, ” she informed me. “Don’t be surprised if Dad starts giving you extravagant bonuses, cash or otherwise. Always accept them; he’ll be insulted if you refuse his gifts.”

Over the next week, I helped prepare Joseph for our trip. He mentioned that he had recently started to fall into the bad habit of oversleeping, so I signed him up for a wake-up call service that I had recently heard about it. Joseph thought that was marvelous. He warmly said, “Barry, please don’t tell Melissa this, but I think you’re even more thorough at getting me organized than she was.”

When we got to Manila, I had arranged for a ride to our hotel. I knew Joseph was a little bit leery about the local cuisine, so I had compiled a list of restaurants that specialized in North American and European foods. He especially liked an Italian restaurant I had discovered. We dined there practically every day. At the end of our week in Manila, Joseph said he had signed import agreements worth about $2 million, so our trip had been a highly successful one. He mentioned, “I just love doing business when I don’t have to worry about peripheral things such as hotel and airline reservations. I can really focus on why I made the trip rather than the trip itself. You did an excellent job, Barry.”

I thanked him for the compliment.

“I think you’ve earned a little bonus,” he stated. “Do you like fucking?”

I quipped, “I’d prefer to keep our relationship a professional one.”

“No! I don’t mean fucking with me!” Joseph responded tersely before he realized I was kidding him. Then he laughed loudly when he got my joke. “I mean fucking women, girls...you know what I mean.”

“Of course, ” I said. “What normal male doesn’t?”

“Good!” Joseph declared. “I’ve been a widower for five years. Even when my wife was alive, she thought sex was more of a chore than a fine recreational activity to be enjoyed. Since she’s passed away, I like fucking whores just for the fun of it—when Melissa isn’t around to stop me from doing it. She’s halfway around the world, so I’m going to get laid tonight—and so are you. Let’s you and me go to a halfway decent whorehouse and fuck some pretty Filipina women tonight to celebrate my success here. Sound like fun?”

Indeed, it did. I’d always been attracted to Asian girls, and I told Joseph that was the case. He fully agreed that Asian women were particularly feminine and had the reputation of being wild in bed. “They aim to please!” he told me.

Went we descended to the hotel lobby I went to see the concierge for some advice about brothels. I wasn’t the slightest bit shy about asking for his advice and assistance. I figured it would be something had had done many times for other hotel guests. He even got a few brochures for us. They were illustrated with photos of alleged whorehouse employees that didn’t leave much to the imagination. The girls at one house of ill fame called Shining Star especially appealed to him, so the concierge called a cab for us and we were on our way there.

“You can have whatever girls you like, Barry! It will be my treat for a job well done, ” he told me during the cab ride.

“Girls? Plural?” I asked him.

“Sure, if that’s your thing,” Joseph said. Have two or three at once as bedmates...or you can screw them one right after the other. It’s up to you. I’ll pick up the tab. It won’t cost you a dime.”

“I’ll be happy with just one compliant Filipina cutie if I can find the body type that appeals to me,” I replied.

“What type would that be? Judging by the pictures in this brochure they have all shapes and sizes.”

“If I see her, I’ll let you know,” I told him. “Heck, even if I don’t see anyone who resembles my fantasy girl, I’m sure I’ll have a great fuck with one of the girls on duty tonight.”

“That’s the spirit, my boy!” Joseph responded enthusiastically. “You’re much more fun as a traveling companion that my daughter ever was.”

Part Three

When we got to Shining Star, we were immediately greeted by a fortyish man in a grey business suit who was obviously the manager. He welcomed us warmly and told us about the services we could receive and the prices for each one. The girls were seated on a stage-like setting in an adjoining room. Each had a number attached to her clothing for purposes of easy identification. We could observe and ogle them through a large window. They could see us, too. Joseph explained he was footing the bill for both of us and personally asked for two girls for himself, #17 and #21.

“Just two girls and not three?” I asked him.

“Yeah, three would be greedy,” he responded with a smile. “If you want three girls, though, that’s fine by me.”

“No, ” I said with an even bigger smile on my face. “One will do. I’d like #9 please.” I paused for a moment and reiterated, “I so want #9!”

“Oh!” said Joseph knowingly when he spotted #9 on the stage. “Now I see exactly what type of girl you like, Barry—as young as possible!”

The manager quickly stated that all his employees were at least 18 years old—that was a house requirement—but some may indeed look younger than that.

“Okay, I’ll accept your word about that, ” Joseph said before he winked at the manager. “I don’t think my companion here will be checking anyone’s personal identification for verification purposes.”

Within a minute, Joseph was strolling down a hallway with a busty hooker on each arm, while I was holding the hand of my little bundle of fun as we made a trip to room #14. It occurred to me that the room number was somehow appropriate.

Room #14 was more lavish than I expected it to be. It was equipped with a carpeted floor, a light switch with a dimmer, and a fairly large bed with a canopy over it. I learned that Girl #9, who spoke English quite well, went by the name of Sunrise, which I strongly suspected was a pseudonym she used while working. She emphasized that she was 18 years old, which made me smile. For no particular reason, I told her my name was Bobby.

“I’ll give you a good fucking, Bobby,” she told me. “You will like me in bed.”

“I’m sure I will!” I quickly agreed.

We sat beside each other on the bed. Sunrise began to disrobe. She pulled off the plain pink t-shirt she was wearing to revel something like a white sports bra, but slightly lacier. It was a turn-on to me—but everything about this girl was a turn-on to me! Sunrise was maybe 5’1, which mean she was dwarfed by my solid six-foot frame. She had a rich head of shimmering black hair that dipped just below her shoulders. She also had a cute smile and a small cleft in her chin.

She was about to remove the bra to reveal her sexy little treasures, but I stopped her to give her a passionate kiss before we got down to business.

“Oh, you are the romantic type, Bobby! I don’t get to fuck too many like you, but I like it very much.”

That remark earned Sunrise a second long kiss, which I gave her while gently pushing her back toward the mattress. Our lips were still locked when I slid my right hand under her bra and felt her tits. Small but pointy, what they lacked in quantity they made up for in quality. She smiled and giggled, which I found endearing. Joseph was right: If Sunrise was typical of Asian girls, they did aim to please!

While flat on her back, Sunrise put her right hand on my crotch. I was still fully clothed, so I didn’t get the full erotic effect of her touching my phallus. I pulled off my shirt quickly and slit down my pants. I was sporting a massive erection, which became obvious to Sunrise when I flung my shorts well away from the bed.

“You have a nice big dick, Bobby. Let me suck it for you, ” Sunrise suggested.

“Please do!” I replied as I straddled her and put the head of my penis by her lips. She got right to work. I could tell she was an established expert when it came licking and sucking penises. I was a happy young man to be the recipient of er expertise. However, I knew I had a better use for my dick that to come in Sunrise’s mouth—which assuredly would have happened if I let the blowjob continue for another 30 seconds.

I pulled my shaft from Sunrise’s mouth and put it where it belonged--deep inside her welcoming pussy. It was fantastic feeling having my manhood snugly inside this lovely, youthful sexpot. I began sliding it in and out of her vagina, alternating long and slow strokes. Even though Sunrise’s job was to please me, I had no qualms about trying to please her as well. Judging by her sensuous moans, I think I was doing just that. However, she may have been just a very good actress. Regardless of that, I loved seeing her small tits jiggle in rhythm with my thrusts. This was the greatest performance bonus I could possibly imagine! Accordingly, I planned on being Joseph’s loyal employee forever.

After ramming Sunrise for six or seven minutes in the tried-and-true missionary position, I pulled out, flipped her on to her stomach, elevated her behind slightly, and penetrated her doggy-style. That was great fun for me as I got to reach forward and occasionally fondle her breasts and caress her cute bum, too! That lasted for another five minutes.

I originally wanted to deposit a load of sperm into my beautiful Filipina bedmate, but I had changed my mind. Now I wanted to finish the fuck by ejaculating all over the front of Sunrise’s sexy, petite body, so I returned her to having her back pinned to the mattress. I begin fucking her with more intensity, increasing my thrusting speed. Sunrise, the pro that she obviously was, sensed my orgasm was just a short time away. “When you come, Bobby, shoot your cum on me. That’s what I like best.” About ten seconds later I complied. I pulled out. My dick was still pointed skyward when the eruption came. My large load was fired into the air and smacked down mostly on Sunrise’s cute body. However, more than a few dollops ended up scattered across various parts of the bed and even on the carpet.

“That blast even overwhelmed me!” I explained to Sunrise, partly as an apology and partly as a boast.

“Very good cum shot, Bobby. I like it,” she said just before she dropped a few morsels of my jism onto her tongue.

I didn’t know if my climax meant my fun with this delightful doll was over, but that question was answered by Sunrise without me having to ask it. “We still have more than 90 minutes left in your session, ” she informed me by pointing to the clock on the wall. “Let’s keep on fucking, Bobby!”

I happily agreed to that request. Our second fuck was a very romantic one, involving as much kissing as screwing. When I eventually came, we were in a side-by-side position with my hands playing with Sunrise’s superb perky nipples. This time the cum shot came with my penis deep inside Sunrise’s pussy. “That’s where it’s supposed to go, honey, ” I told her with the authority of age.

When the two hours had expired and I had ejaculated three times, Sunrise and I shared a shower that was inside the room. I enjoyed soaping her sexy body and fingering her pussy as I did it. She attempted to give me a hand job to draw a fourth orgasm from me, but I was absolutely spent. I still enjoyed the attempt, though.

When I got to the lobby, Jospeh was waiting for me. He had obviously gotten what he wanted as he was all smiles. “I’ve already settled the bill, Barry,” he noted. “I hope you enjoyed you time here. I certainly did. Filipina females are just marvelous to screw.”

“I want to thank you for the greatest two hours of my lifetime,” I said sincerely. “You have a happy employee!”

Joseph grinned and gave me some exciting news. “I somehow think you’ll be even happier in two weeks, Barry. Our next stop is Thailand. I want you to make all the arrangements for that business trip, too. Do another good job for me and we’ll find some gorgeous Thai hookers and fuck their brains out!”