[MF] Are You Decent?

As part of my university program, I was required to take a six-month internship at a tech company to complete my third year. Most of my fellow students choose some German company close to home. I, however, was invited to work in Panama for the website of an online friend that I met through IRC. When I first arrived at my new workplace, straight from the airport, I was stunned to see that the office was inside a huge mansion at the top of a hill. Not your typical tech office, but a peach coloured bunker, with a sky observatory on the roof. Later I learned that it was built by a former NASA employee obsessed with earthquakes, explaining those thick walls. The construction was still ongoing at the time and has probably never been finished.

The boss and my friend had their living quarters at the top floor, my guest room was at the ground level, right next to the main entry. However the first couple months I was mostly alone outside of office hours, together with Charlie the three-legged guard dog, the laundry lady who exclusively used bleach for every housekeeping problem and a small army of construction workers all named Jesus. We didn’t talk much, just casual hola’ every now and then… since my Spanish was spotty at best and they didn’t speak any English at all. Often it was lonely to be honest, as I was a bit starved for meaningful interaction. Charlie understood.

My team typically arrived between 10am and noon, only to regroup for our two hour lunch on most weekdays. However there was always an onsite support staff manning the phone in the morning. Usually they wouldn’t bother me as they had their own key. So on this particular Saturday morning I decided to rub one out in my room, while it was still pretty quiet in the house. The weather was hot and humid, I had no air-conditioning and all blankets were discarded on the floor. As both the electricity and the internet connection were working for a change, I decided to treat myself to some online porn. I don’t remember exactly what I was watching, most likely two Panamanian beauties enjoying themselves and each other.

My MacBook was spinning loudly. I had my headphones on listening to their soft moans, my hands occupied with no attention paid to my surrounding. I was slowly stroking my hard dick with my left hand, while I was using my right hand to skip back to the same kissing scene over and over. Both wearing white see through t-shirts, while half emerged from an outdoor jacuzzi. They were making out passionately, with their tanned breasts pushing against each other.

This blyssful state continued until out of the corner of my eye I noticed the window blinds moving slightly. After looking up and squinting to see through the slants a bit better, I could just about recognise a familiar girl by the vague shape of her hair. It was Tamara, the lead of the support team. She had apparently forgotten to bring her key. There was a little fog on the sliding window, which couldn’t be just explained by the morning dew. With a quick inhale she asked “Are you decent?”, her voice still a little shaky. Our eyes locked and we both knew that I wasn’t. “Uh, yes, well, not really”, I said. She giggled softly and replied “Well, I think you are…”

—

## Kim

During my internship in Panama, my eccentric boss liked to take his employees to strip clubs to celebrate the end of the month. And pay for it, fortunately! Stubbornly we tried a different one each time, but usually ended up at Club Elite. Apparently known for their most enthusiastic strippers. I had never attended any strip clubs before this trip to Latin America, so I didn’t really know what to expect. But it turned out that I was getting spoiled by the sex positive vibes in Panama, with girls that did really love their job. In fact, a couple months later I visited one in Canada with the same boss, but that experience was hopelessly boring in comparison.

Club Elite had a central stage where girls would dance in lingerie or topless, spinning on the stage poles, while tossing their hair emphatically. The music was contemporary North American, to accommodate for the gringo audience. Most of the time you’d get a visit by a girl who would sit on your lap for hours, slowly grinding, as long as you paid them to drink their expensive lemonade. I loved it.

And you know what, it wasn’t just about the lap dances either. While most of the locals spoke poor English and were rather shy to engage with expats, these ladies were professional conversationalists, usually pretty well versed in English, among them many interesting STEM students. It was actually a great environment to learn and practise some Spanish, while paying too much for drinks, but enjoying good services.

This particular Friday, as we entered the club and moved to the central stage, my gaze drifted towards a stunning girl sitting at the bar. She looked back up, half through her curly dark hair. Her hazel eyes met my blue ones and I could feel sparks flowing down my spine. While another model was already coming over to our table, but I simply had to try to ask her if I could invite her colleague, the girl at the bar, instead. No idea if this was frowned upon, but it turned out to be no problem.

I wanted to ask her name so badly, but she had already read my mind. “Hola, me llamo Kim”. She smoothly glided down on my lap and I hoped she would never leave. However, after half an hour of laughing and chatting in mixed Spanish / English, she was scheduled to dance soon, so could only stay for a little while longer. She had just told me she was a single mother and studying telecommunication at the local university. I wondered: Would she teleport back to me after her dance?

Kim left to change. When she was announced to enter the stage, I was so surprised to hear that she was dancing to a song by Rammstein. A quite horrible German industrial band, but it was my favourite at the time, as I had just mentioned to her before. Coincidence? I don’t think so. During her dance she paid special attention to me, to the jealousy of my colleagues.

I had to get her back if possible, and settled to wait for her as she changed with my eyes glued to the door next to the stage. Politely, I refused two other girls, until Kim emerged from the dressing room walking straight back to me. She asked if I wanted to come with her to the jacuzzi or VIP room. As I had no idea what would happen there, the VIP room sounded safer :)

Taking my hand she all but dragged me upstairs to the VIP room, which was pretty much a balcony with a bit more privacy, a good view of the main stage, and even more expensive lemonade. Eventually we had depleted my Spanish vocabulary and she started kissing me. I was quite surprised that this was even allowed in the club, but as she initiated this escalation, I figured I might as well enjoy it. She put a blue wrapped candy out of her purse, unwrapped it and in her mouth, kissed me, and passed me the candy with her tongue. She tasted minty.

Although I was quite excited for pretty much the entire time of her sitting on my lap, now I got really hard. Her hands moved from under my shirt down into my bleached pants. After a short squeeze she started to unzip me. While getting all this attention felt great, I wasn’t that comfortable getting a hand-job or more while surrounded by my colleagues who had also joined us upstairs. I am sure they wouldn’t have minded, and they were each occupied by a girl on their laps, but still. With a sadness I put my hand onto hers and told her, in English as to be sure to be understood correctly, that I was very sorry, but couldn’t continue. She smiled understanding, walked away with purpose. I stare followed her hotpants, which had just previously felt so good, move out of my reach. Had I ruined everything by stating my boundaries? However she returned from the upstairs bar and took my hand to write her phone number with a pen that she had just sneaked away from the bar. This might not be our last moment together. We kissed good bye.

After a long taxi drive home, the raining season was living up to its name and I was soaked to the bone after walking back up the hill to the mansion. Frantically I looked down on my hand to see that Kim’s phone number was all smeared out. I could only recognise the heart that she had drawn besides her number.

—

Thanks to BlyssSteel (@BlyssCam) for her amazing feedback.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/brzvwh/mf_are_you_decent