I would just like to say this is my first story and as always it will be based on pure fiction. It all started with a prick. A single unsought prick. As I threaded the last needle my amateur fingers trembled with the days pressure and all at once the trail of blood was to spin it's own wheel of stringy events.
`Would you like me to get you a plaster?' I span in mock anticipation, It was on the rare occasion that I was companied at work and the thought I had been spied on sent waves of upheaval to my stomach.
`Would you like a plaster?' I stared at the women standing opposite me. It was my second week at a sweat shop in China, I had moved to experience the misgivings of a culture so opposed to a mistake like mine. I was the only Caucasian and although I was surrounded by the young and the old all the while, I had come to terms with the fact I was a mere pebble on their road racing away from famine. I was non-existent. Unimportant. More over useless.
A few heads cocked to see what was going on. It was even rarer for the Masters wife to enter the humid stench of the shop, and far more unscrupulous for I an indecent beginner to be communicating with her. In all fairness I hadn't replied, oh god was that worse?!
In my broken Mandarin I managed to accumulate the sentence, `Yes, please Madam.'
The soles of my shoes grated heavily against the grit clawing from the solemn floor, mistreated, the room stank of hopelessness. Grey and disheveled the cramped atmosphere squeezed what felt like hundreds of us into the tip of a needle. How ironic...
`Here,' gripping my hand Mrs. Yoshaki coolly whipped out anti-septic, the pain numbed by the affection of her touch. I pondered; perplexed by her caring attitude in such an obtuse place, but I let the misplaced woman continue wrapping my finger without an outcry. I took the moment to study her face. I took in the smooth skin against her forehead, momentarily crinkled in concentration. Short lashes framing intense dark eyes, warm hair tones highlighting her pale colouring and slight tight lips gapped enough to show perfect pearled teeth. I glanced down at her collar bones, protruding against her small frame. I had the urge to stroke them and feel the hardness of her body, but of course I contained myself. Masako was around thirty, ten or so years older than I. Yet still a trophy girl for her aged husband the famous sixty-something Jing Hern Yoshaki. Around 5'1 she was a slight 90lbs, petite.
I lay at night. My boxy room. Alone. Shuffling along to my dirty bathroom I glanced at my reflection in the flickering light. My eyes swarmed by dark rings of insomnia, I ran my hand through my tousled hair and stretched my achy shoulders. Why am I thinking of her?
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
Hello?' What the fuck? I flicked to my alarm clock, 3:06. I'm naked.' A female voice replied. It was familiar, but Chinese just sounded Chinese.
`Excuse me?'
The phone cut dead.
Weird.
Work the next day was treacherous. I noticed something odd though; a young girl was watching me now and again. Probably due to the situation yesterday, that was especially attention grabbing. Also, later I found a note upon my chair when I left for my toilet break. It read:
I'm here. You must be there, 1 am at the City Park. Be there. It was in English. My first thought was a young Chinese man had probably wanted something unusual to fuck for the night. However the word here seemed to unsettle my mind. Were have I heard that? Masako.
I spent longer than I have ever spent on my appearance. My makeup accurate and flattering while my dress skimmed my breasts perfectly to show the hardness of my nipple through the material; the excitement was setting in. I puffed my way down the narrow streets, 0.57. I'm early. But not alone.
`Hello?' I whispered, the heat of my body caused dragon breathe to wheeze it's way into the nightsky.
`I'm naked.' Oh that voice again.
My hands shot to my face. The pure warmth pulsated. I counted my heartbeat. 1,2,3,100.
And then she crept out of the bushes. Shivering with her chubby body prickled with goose pimples.
`Erm do I know you?' It definitely wasn't Masako, the thick thighs easily gave that away.
`I want you,' It was the girl that stared at me from work. Oh Great.
`I'm sorry..' and then I ran.
Still panting I knelt against the mustard walls of my flat and bowed my head in shame. What did I expect?! A married women!
Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring.
`Please, Leave me alone!'
`I'm sorry?' Wait.. It wasn't that girl, it was, it was..
`Jennay?' I loved they way she added a sharp --ay to my usually flat name.
`Madam Masako, I apologise, how may I help you?' Tonight was getting stranger.
`I'm alone.' Her voice broke.
`I'm here.' Of course I was.
I entered her house. Or should I say mansion. The corridors ran endlessly to form an enigma of a house with a cryptic maze of doors. Decorated in expensive European furniture it didn't fit with her minimalistic style, but it was all to flash for him. Her husband.
Her usual calm exterior was crippled with a fraught fuss.
`I'm sorry I phoned you like that, I had no one to trust, I found your number in the records, I knew you would understand, he's gone again to meet one of his bitches and...'
I snatched her wrist and pulled it abruptly enough to shock the both of us, with the other hand I stroked her hair behind her ears and kissed the end of her lobe. I have no idea why, it just seemed appropriate.
`I didn't phone you for that.' She stared into my eyes with content.
`I know.' And with that her silk sleeping gown dropped to the ground. Traipsing into the lounge I watched her boney hips swing. Laying upon the settee she ran her hand into her briefs. I had no idea what to do, were to look. What was she expecting?
`Here!' I pulled off my thick jumper and tight jeans and followed her lead. Laying head to tail I placed one hand into my underwear. I slipped open my lips and engulfed my shaking fingers in a juicy sauce. Slowly rubbing my thumb against my clit I realized Masako had halted. Pulling my hand away she sat up and peeled my damp panties out of my cunt. Splitting my legs she dipped into me. Sucking at my erect clit she prodded it rhythmically with her quick tongue tip. It felt euphoric to be with her, watching a dark cloak of hair cover her face I twisted in my first orgasm. Pulling her face to mine I kissed her passionately and tasted the flavours of seduction against her tongue. Grinding my mound against her I felt her apprehension drip down my inner thigh, flipping her into her stomach I slowly forced her onto her knees and came at her from behind. We both began to sweat. Masako's ass thrived in multiple orgasms as I hit her soft G-spot to her utter surprise; she groaned loudly and harshly covering the sound of the front door opening. By the time the footsteps had entered the room it was too late.
`Oh god. It's not what it looks like.'
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