Swimmingly... at first

"Ah, Rachel," says the hostess, opening the door. "It's good to--" she stops as she sees your outfit. She knows your mission, and she's been paid quite well by the CIA to set up this meeting, but she probably wasn't expecting this kind of slutwear. "--see you again," she finishes, after taking a moment to gather her thoughts. You've never met her before in your life, of course.

"Come on in, let me introduce you to someone," she says. "Li Wei, this is Rachel," she says. "I met her last year, when I took that vacation in America. She's an actress. When I heard that she was going to be staying here in China, I made sure to invite her over."

Li Wei's eyes widen briefly, recognizing you, but he quickly recovers. "An... actress. Right," he says, in unaccented English. "It's nice to fina... to meet you," he says, extending his hand. As you shake it, you notice his eyes drift downward a bit, towards your cleavage. You obligingly roll your shoulders back to give him a better view.

"And what do you do?" You ask sweetly.

"I'm, I'm a physicist," he stammers. "I study electromagnetic attenuation in certain types of polymer."

You nod, as if you understand perfectly. "That must be interesting," you say encouragingly, hoping that he'll drop some more details about his research.

"Yeah, it is," he says awkwardly, and then falls silent. Either he's trying not to give away his secrets, or he's too nervous at meeting you to talk normally.

"...And then the juice went all down here," you say, tracing your hand over the curve of your chest. As you intended, Li Wei's eyes follow your motion, and his attention is drawn back to your cleavage.

Li Wei, who is seated across from you at the dinner table, chuckles weakly. "Yeah, that's... really funny," he says, although you'd be willing to bet that he couldn't tell you how your anecdote started. You lean forward a bit to give him the best possible viewing angle. This is one thing your job has prepared you for, at any rate -- how to best present your assets for the attention of the camera is one of the first things you learned.

"So, how about you?" you ask. "What funny stories do you have?" Hopefully, this will include some details about his work life.

He glances up at your face. You give him a saucy smile, letting him know that you saw where he was looking and don't mind. From his blush, it seems like he gets the message. "W-well," he stammers, "I remember one time when I was working on my doctoral dissertation, there was this one problem I had modelling moderate magnetic fields. See there's one approximation you can use when the field is very weak, and another one you can use when it's very strong, but...." he keeps talking, while you nod like you have any idea what he's talking about. His gaze drifts back downwards again. He's no longer even attempting to conceal the fact that he's talking to your tits, although he darts occasional looks at your face to make sure you have no objections.

"... so the undergrad, who's never even heard of the Kottenstein approach before, immediately comes up with the answer. I and two full professors had been staring at this problem for almost a month at this point, and this undergrad comes up with a solution in like five minutes!" He pauses expectantly, and you laugh on cue. No doubt this is what passes for humor among physicists.

"So you have a doctorate?" you ask, hoping to steer the conversation in a more promising direction.

"Oh... not a medical doctorate," he explains. "A Ph.D."

You nod, concealing your irritation. How stupid does he think you are? But of course you play along. "Oh, that's a shame. I've been having lower-back pains, you see...."

"I can see why," he says archly.

You feign a giggle at his obvious joke. "Oh, is it that obvious?" Under the table, you brush your leg against his.

"You might say that," he answers. "Oh, you've got something there, let me get that for you," he adds. Leaning forwards, he brushes an imaginary speck from your cleavage. The other diners exchange shocked looks at his boldness.

"Aw, thanks," you say. "I'll have to check to see if there's any more, do you know where the bathroom is?"

He smiles broadly, getting your hint. "I'll show you," he says, standing. His erection is evident beneath his pants. "Come with me."

The bathroom is enormous, all marble and elaborate faucets. At first you don't even see a toilet, but you notice a door in the corner, behind which is a nook containing the toilet. Essentially, the bathroom has its own bathroom.

"Here we go," says Li Wei, ushering you inside with his arm around your waist. He shuts the door behind him.

You turn a bit to get a more direct look at him, still with his arm around you. Your breasts are now pressed against his side. "You know who I am, don't you?" you whisper throatily. With a corner of your mind, you note the feel of his body, far firmer and more muscular than you would have guessed. "You know what I am."

His hand drifts down and gives your ass a quick squeeze. "...You're a porn star," he concedes with embarrassment, as if he thinks knowing that fact would hurt his chances with you. Well, it would ordinarily, you don't fuck your fans, but.... "That too," you say, "but more importantly, what I am is a complete slut." You run your hand over his bulge teasingly. "And I haven't gotten laid since coming to China."

"And... you chose me?" he asks disbelievingly.

"Well, intelligence is sexy, and you're really smart," you say. Hopefully this will encourage him to talk more about his work, to seem smarter.

"Yeah, I am," he says. "Meaning I'm not stupid."

You blink. "...What?" you ask, genuinely confused.

His grip tightens, and you become uncomfortably aware that you are alone with a man twice your size. You instinctively try to pull away, but unsuccessfully.

He looks down at you, all hints of flirtation gone from his face. "Who are you working for?" he demands.