She arched her back a little and pushed backwards to give him something to think about. He wants more, she thought, silly white boy. Slowly she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, making her ass move from side to side. She wasn’t really trying to tease him, but she wasn’t going to change her behavior, either. She wore silky dark blue slacks that clung to her bottom and revealed every curve, every cleft, every dimple, and to Charlie, every desire. He came and stood beside her, ostensibly to lend her a hand, but in reality to get close enough to smell her and taste her. She smelled like licorice– the sweet, tangy aroma wafting off of her like heat. She was a beautiful woman-a classic Asian with alluring almond eyes that looked slightly crossed when seen from a certain angle. They were soft, but piercing, like the eyes of a child and a hawk. Her cheekbones were very high and her hair long and straight and jet-black, after the style worn by Oriental women before they were influenced by the West. She was a small, trim woman, solid from her years of weight training. She and Charlie had been working together for four years, ever since she came to the U.S. from the central hills of Thailand. She new that she aroused him-they had dated very early on in their relationship, though nothing intimate came of it, but it was their one night together a month earlier that lit Charlie up like a roman candle.
“Can we talk about it, Chen?” Charlie asked, pleading like a lovesick puppy. He referred to her shunning him since their incredible night together.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Charlie, silly boy. We can’t make a thing of it. You know I’m married.” She looked up, sorry for him.
She knew how he felt; she had this effect on many American men. The difference with Charlie was that he had sampled Number Three Love– the first time she had given it to anyone from outside her village in Thailand– not even her husband had been so blessed.
“Charlie, I was upset with Steve, that’s all.”
Steve was her American husband-the first American she had ever met-who had a penchant for bosomy blondes and indulged himself at every opportunity. Steve was supposed to meet her the night she had the tryst with Charlie, but stood her up and lied to her, to boot. Chen knew in her heart, and in her loins, that she didn’t go with Charlie because she was mad at Steve-she went because she wanted to fuck, she wanted to fuck the way she had been trained to fuck, and she wanted to show white men just what silly sexual neophytes they are.
“Damn, Chen, this ain’t something you can just turn on and off. You are incredible, that asshole doesn’t deserve you all to himself. And you deserve better, too! A lot better!”
Charlie went to the lunchroom to see if he could scare up some coffee that late at night. He heard the phone in the office ring, and he heard someone talking, but he couldn’t make anything out. Having no luck with the coffee, unless he wanted to make a whole pot, he headed back down to the front. As he passed by the office, he saw Chen standing by the desk, her head down, her shoulders quaking.
“What’s up, Chen? Are you crying?” He moved to her side and put an arm around her.
She shook her head no, but when she turned, she revealed her lie.
“It was Steve, huh? What’s he doing now?”
Chen pulled herself together, smoothed down her sweater and said,
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Tears still welled in her eyes.
Charlie turned her a half-turn, and she fell into his arms, burrowing her face into his chest. She rested with him for a few minutes, seeming to gain control of herself. Charlie was just about to push her back a little when she said,
“Take me, lover. You can have me.” She put her arms around him and sidled up to him. She licked his cheek and ear as he pulled her tight, the light licorice scent and humor finding it’s way to his senses. She shied her head and dried a tear with her fist.
“Chen, I don’t want you like this-I don’t want you if you’re just trying to get back at Steve.” Charlie was resigned to serve his nice guy sentence.
“In my village, it’s impolite to refuse an advance.” She half-smiled, “I’m not trying to get back at Steve, he offers me the opportunity to pursue my own desires.” She wriggled in closer, looked him in the eyes and said, “Kiss me, lover. Shhh, just kiss me.”
Charlie leaned down and touched his lips to hers, little apricots, and licked. Her tongue came forth to wrestle with his, and they twined together like whispers and secrets. Her tongue tasted fresh and vaguely familiar.
“What is that? I’ve tasted that before.”
“It’s fennel. It’s a spice that many of the women in my village chew.”
“It’s nice,” he whispered, “Is it like gum or something?”
She breathed into his ear. “No, lover, it’s for sex. It makes sex better. Do you remember what we did last time? When you put your hand down there.” He nodded.
“Do it again.” She shinnied up his body, pushed her chest into his and spread her legs.
Charlie brought his hand to her mouth, extended his middle finger and pushed it between her lips. She made her mouth gooey with spit, cheeks sucking in, and wet his finger. Charlie withdrew it and reached around behind her. He slid his hand into her pants, finding the elastic of her panties and pushed past it. He was beside himself. He had never experienced anything like what she had done to him. Not even remotely. She had used her ass like a mouth and sucked his cock. He almost came just thinking about it. His middle finger found the cleft between her cheeks, and slid down until it touched her tight little hole. She pressed her mouth to his, kissing him hard. Just as her tongue slithered from her lips, Charlie pushed his finger deep in her ass.
Chen moaned, and began to push against his hand. He fucked his finger in and out as best he could, and she moved opposite him, meeting his every plunge with a thrust of her own. Charlie’s cock shot up like a rocket. Chen moaned and began little grinding motions against his hand.
“Let’s go,” said Charlie, disengaging his finger from her tight, little ass. He remembered what she had done last time when he pulled his finger out, and so, making a fist and stretching out his middle finger, he stuck it in her mouth. She looked him right in the eyes and sucked, her cheeks caving in and her tongue swirling. Charlie stared back, awed, and began to twist and turn his finger and pump it in and out.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, not wanting to extricate his finger. “I could come just watching you do that!”
“Don’t do it yet, lover. I have other plans. Look, you go on ahead, I’ll meet you at your place in an hour, OK?”