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Mellow Yellow Ch. 01

By: miskeivitch



[b]Ch. 1: Hanna Discovers White Bananas[/b]

Hanna knew that I was a ghost writer and she wanted someone to write the story of how she met her new husband in 1983. She came to my place to tell me her story and then let me write it for her. Hanna speaks broken English and talks very quickly. With her limited English, she is very eloquent and colourful in her expressions. I think it would do Hanna a disservice if I tried to correct her mistakes so I have tried to write down Hanna's story just the way she told it to me. The only parts I have reconstructed are when someone speaks better English than Hanna.

You know my name Hanna Li. My real name Li Hong but nobody say my name right so in Canada I Hanna Li make things easy for you. You not mind my English, OK. I am in Canada not long time. I was 36 when I come Canada and I still look good. I no fat. My hair all black, no gray. I come from Vietnam with daughter. My husband a soldier but he die in war so I raise daughter by myself. I work hard and give my daughter food, clothes and send her to school. I don't have man or marry again. Vietnamese men only want marry cherry girl. Lady no husband like me they only want fuck and run away. I no do that.

How I get to Canada, you ask? Me, my daughter get chase out of Vietnam by Communists because my husband soldier and we go to Malaysia on boat. Very crowded and I am afraid of pirate and if there is storm, we go down in sea. But we make it to Malaysia and live in camp in jungle. Malaysia people not nice to us. They say they send us back to Vietnam. But people from Canada come and ask if we want to go there, not Vietnam. Vietnamese say Canada cold and we freeze to death. I say we dead if we go back Vietnam so my daughter and me go with people to Canada. They give me sponsor who find apartment for me and help me get job cleaning in hospital. This hard work but I used to it.

This Canada funny place. People no eat rice - eat too much meat. They no like nuoc mam on food - they say it smell like dead fish. You like nuoc mam? Canadian clumsy with chopstick and use knife and fork. I learn knife and fork in French restaurant in Vietnam so this no problem when I visit Canadian people in home. Canadian people nice. They show me how they live and how to be like Canadian. Sponsor help us and Canadian don't mind my English no good. Doctor here free but my daughter and me, we healthy. People want give Vietnamese job because they say we work hard. I know I work hard. My daughter marry after 6 months in Canada. She marry guy who here long time. He have good job and money and they get marry. I happy in Canada as my daughter has husband. I work my job and nobody give me trouble.

Only one problem. I no have man for me. Lots of Vietnamese men here for young girl but no want old lady like me. Same thing as Vietnam, only want cherry girl. Lots of white guy look for Vietnamese women but my Vietnamese friends say they no good. They too big, have too much hair and only want bad lady. I big for Vietnamese lady but white guys too big for me. I think we no look good together. I think if I go with white guy then I lose my friends. In Vietnam, only bad lady go with white guy and I good lady. I ask my Vietnamese friends what to do, I got no man. They tell me use finger. So when I go bed at night, I play with myself. I stick finger inside me but it not same as man. I think I do this because I no have man for so long time and I horny all time.

When I first come Canada, my sponsor lady make me go to school, learn English. This hard for me because English very different from my language. I still no speak good. I see white people in my school who come from a place they call Poland. They say they just like me, they run from Communist in Poland. They not soldier but they say they in something they call Solidarity. No fighting but they leave anyway. They have sponsor just like me, my daughter. They nice too because they speak English slow, not fast like Canadian. They make me say Polish word but Polish too hard for Vietnamese to speak. 

Too many letter in Polish word. One Polish guy like me, same age as me and have no lady, same as I have no guy. Also he good looking guy. He very kind, not mean at all. Yes he big guy but I think he no want harm anyone. He not mean looking like I see white guy soldier in Vietnam. He say name Tadeusz Kowalski. I tell him too hard for me to say. Then he say, OK, you call me Ted like Canadian. Ted and me have fun to learn English. Ted help me learn English and he know more about Canada than me. He tell me I no die in winter like people tell me in Malaysia. He say to get warm coat and I be OK.

I find that Ted get apartment near me and sometime we meet when shopping. We go around mall we have fun pretend we have money. Ted tell me what he buy for me but I know he just make joke. Ted make me laugh many time. 

After we shop, sometime we have cookie and tea, Ted have coffee, and we talk. We just friends, not talk about much. I tell Ted my family, my friends and how I be granny. Ted talk his job and he like him job and make good money. Ted still nice to me even he make more money than me. He no think I stupid because I have job cleaning and I no speak English good. I like listen Ted because him English better than me and he tell me new English word. I like talk Ted because all my Vietnamese friend married and they no have time for me weekend. I see my daughter and daughter baby on Sunday but Saturday I lonely.

One time we talk after shop and Ted say "Hanna, next week there is a dance at the Polish Hall. Do you dance? I don't have a girlfriend and I would like to take you to the dance." I not know what to do. Ted nice guy but he not Vietnamese. If he my boyfriend, Vietnamese friends no like. I ask Ted why he want take Vietnamese granny like me to dance, not young white lady. "Ted say: "I have fun with you when we shop and I like you. I want to go places with you. Besides, you are a very pretty woman and you don't look like an old granny. My friends will be very jealous when they see us together" I very happy Ted like me but I still remember what my Vietnamese friend say about white guy. My head turn around inside because I no want say yes, I no want say no. I tell Ted "I think a few days and give you call OK?" Ted say OK so I go my sponsor lady and ask her what I do.

I tell sponsor lady that I no want my Vietnamese friends think I bad lady. I tell her I like Ted. I tell her how I lonely and how long time I no have man. I say that I tear in two from all this. Sponsor lady say: "Hanna, here in Canada, everything is different. Men and women come from all different countries and fall in love. Open your eyes and look at the couples. A lot of them are different races, just like you and Ted. Ted seems like a good man and he is lonely just like you. You must decide what is more important, for you to be happy or for your friends to be happy. Why don't you give Ted a try?" In my language, that mean she want me to fuck Ted so I tell sponsor lady: "I not easy, I not fuck white guy! What you think of me? You think I bad lady?"

Sponsor lady say: "I think you don't understand. I just meant that you go out on a date with Ted and see if you have anything in common. Just one date won't put the two of you in bed. Hanna, you are so lonely that I just want something good to happen to you." I say I am sorry I not understand sponsor lady first time. I say I see she want good thing happen me, that all. I go home to think what she say. I look around on bus and I think maybe she right. Lots of couple, man and woman look different here in Canada. They look happy too. And I no have man so long time. My head stop turning and I know what I do. I go to my apartment, call Ted and say, OK we go out Saturday to dance.

As I put down telephone, head start to turn again. I have no clothes for dance and I no look good, no makeup and my hair long and straight. What I do. First, I call Vietnamese friend my size and ask borrow her ao dai. I too poor to buy good ao dai but friend let me have for Saturday. I no tell her who date with. Then I call sponsor lady and say I go out with Ted to dance. I ask her show me how put makeup on face. So long time I no go on date that I forget makeup. Sponsor lady say OK and I go Thursday and she help me make my face look good. She also also say that I go to have hair fix. I say I cut myself but sponsor lady say I cut myself no good. She make time with hairdresser lady she have friend and explain other lady what to do.

Saturday, I go to hairdresser lady and she cut hair and make new style. Hairdresser lady make me look like lady in magazine. I go home, have long bath so I smell good and have soft skin for date. When I dress, I put on black bikini panties and black brassiere so I look sexy. I not have big tit like white lady so I afraid Ted no like me. I put on black pantyhose and black pants under ao dai and then silk top. I just put a little perfume that sponsor lady give me. I smell very good. Canadian lady put on too much perfume, you smell too far away. My eyes not like white lady have so I careful how I make black lines. I think my eyes look sexy with a little black on outside. I put on lipstick and a little bit red stuff on my cheeks. I just want look a little shy like young girl. I put on high heels so I not so short beside Ted.

Ted come my door and look at me and give sound like bird. Ted say: "You look so young when you dress up and put on makeup. I will look like an old man beside you. Why don't you make yourself pretty all the time?" I tell him that I have no man make myself pretty. Today, we go to Polish Hall for dance so I make myself pretty. Ted have car so no need wait for bus. At dance, I look in mirror at Ted and me and I think we look good. Nobody say I too short. Ted dance very good and I start like to look up to him. He smile a lot and hold me close. This feel good to me have man hold me not feel long time. After dance, Ted drive me home but I not want him go away. I say, you come my place and have tea? He say "Of course, I really like your company and would love to have more time with you."

I make nice tea and put out fruit and we talk. He let me talk more, I think. I talk thing I never say Ted before. I say about hard time I have after my husband die and say how nice is my daughter. I tell him about boat and Malaysia. He say that we both lucky we can come to Canada and we can meet. We talk about many things. Now we alone he tell me what he afraid to say in mall. 

Ted say thing like: "Hanna, you are a wonderful mother and a great woman the way you have brought up your daughter alone. Even though we have just been friends, I have seen how you are good inside and very intelligent. I have wanted to get closer to you but I have felt you were afraid to date a white guy. Have you wanted to get close to me but you were afraid.?" I think to myself: "This man know what I have inside my head." 

I say I afraid of him first time I see but now I not afraid. Suddenly, I kiss him and you know what? I not stop. I no kiss man long time and it feel good. I say Ted that I lonely and not have husband or boyfriend long time. Ted tell me he not have woman long time also. Long time he have girlfriend Poland but she leave when he get in trouble with Communists. I tell Ted I want him be my man. Ted show he no forget how to kiss woman. Ted have hair on mouth, moustache I think is word in English. This feel funny but I find lips under hair. Ted have soft lips. It so good kiss man again. Suddenly I remember ao dai not mine and I say "Stop." Ted ask why. I say: This no my ao dai and we must be careful. I I must take off now."

I take Ted to bedroom with me. I need man too much I no want him go away. I say, "I take off my clothes, no help from you. This not my ao dai." Ted nice. He not push. I take off clothes slow and sexy and put ao dai and pants on chair careful. Ted smile and say that my body look nice. He ask me: "Can take off your pantyhose? Those don't belong to your friend." I say yes and he take down slowly each leg. Ted hands very soft. Ted work in office, not have hard hands like men who work in factory. Ted hand on leg make me horny. Good thing bikini black, not show my water. Ted say "I never knew how smooth the skin was on a Vietnamese woman. This is the first time I have ever touched a woman like you." I tell him first time white man touch me. I say he know how to touch woman, very soft.

Ted stand up and put arms under my legs and back and lift me up. He walk with me to my bed and softly put me down on bed. Then he step back and slowly take off his clothes. I never see white man under clothes and Ted have hair on arm, chest, on legs and under arms. Never see this before. I start to be afraid, he look so big and have fur like animal. Ted take off man panties and now I big afraid. He have banana more big than my husband and it not look like banana of Vietnamese man. 

I tell him maybe he too big for me and banana look funny. Ted laugh and say "I think Vietnamese guys only have uncut dicks. As for me being too big, have I been rough with you at all tonight? I want to make love to you so much. If I hurt you we can stop." I so scared, I shake as he get beside me on bed. He kiss me on lips and put arms around me and hold me maybe 5 minutes, do nothing. I stop shake because Ted so strong but soft. Besides, long time no man and I like how Ted feel beside me. I put arm on back - he so big I no reach around. I kiss him back. 

I like kiss but Ted surprise me and put tongue between lips. This never happen to me and I ask what he want. Ted say, "You open your mouth a little and we will play with our tongues." I try what he say and I find this very sexy, make me more horny. We do this for long time then Ted start to kiss my face and ear, move down my neck and kiss my shoulders and arms. This very sexy. Ted say, "I love your skin Hanna. It's as smooth as the silk on your dress." I tell Ted that his skin feel like man but I like.

Ted reach behind me and take off brassiere. I ask, you like my body? Maybe I too small here? Ted say "You're gorgeous. Your tits are small just like the rest of your body. You are very well proportioned. The look of your naked body just drives me crazy." Ted always know what to say. His soft hand hold all one tit, but he no squeeze. Ted start to kiss slow around my tit and after long time kiss the nipple. My husband no make me feel like that.

Ted then kiss my stomach and go kiss up and down my leg. I tell him not to stop kiss my tit but he go down my body. I rub my tit myself while he kiss up and down my body. This make me crazy. I think no man can make me crazy like Ted. Then he kiss up my leg and stop before my bikini. Ted pull off bikini slow and soft. I hope he not see how wet is bikini. Then he put his head between my leg and I ask "What you do" Ted say "Haven't you had a man eat your pussy before? Just see. I won't hurt you." I learn this word pussy first time. Ted make sound like whistle and say: "This is beautiful. Did you know your pussy is smaller and has less hair than a white woman." I say I never see white woman, just Vietnamese.

Ted then stick his tongue in my pussy and bring his tongue up and down my pussy. No man do this to me before and I like it. Suddenly I feel like I explode down there. I make big big noise. When I stop explode, I ask what happen? This never happen before. Ted say "I think you just had an orgasm. You poor dear thing. You had to wait all these years to have an orgasm?" I say that my husband and I not marry long and we not fuck good. Ted say: "Now we fuck good." I think Ted like how I talk.

Then Ted stop kiss my pussy and start to come up to my face. I put my hand to my pussy to make it feel good, same way Ted make it feel good. Instead, banana of Ted is in my hand. I get scared again and say: "No, Ted banana too big. Never get in me." Ted say: "You just say stop if I hurt you." Ted then move banana up and down my pussy and this feel good and I explode again. This time I say loud: "I want you. I want you inside me so much!" Ted move his banana down and start to push banana in me. Know what? This not hurt. I have lots of water and Ted make banana go in me slow. This make me even more crazy and I make noise again. Why I not try another man all these years? So good. All the time Ted talk to me, say things like "Hanna you're so tight like a young girl. Tell me if you like it. It feels so good to be inside you" I forget other thing he say because I explode again, now three time one night. I make big noise and he now kiss my tit, kiss my shoulder. He big but he not heavy because he stay above me.


Now I feel banana inside me in place where baby come out. I say: "Ai-yee Ted. Stop. You hurt me little bit." Ted pull out banana a little and stop. He tell me relax but how can I relax when I afraid to explode again. Ted start to come in again and banana go past place where baby come out. He say: "I've never felt the cervix on a woman before." I guess that what you call where the baby come from. I learn new words from Ted. Finally, he stop pushing banana in me and he say that banana all in. I feel like I have big football in me but I feel good. I tell this to Ted. He say that he want to move inside me and he start to move banana inside me, in, out. 

Banana move over where baby come out and this make me go crazy again and I explode four time now. I say loud it good, it good. I look and Ted have eyes shut. He say "I'm in heaven Hanna." Then he pull up my leg and put hand on my ass. Now he go in and out with banana and I tell Ted to finish because I get too tired. Ted go in out very fast now and he say loud something in his language I no understand. I think he finish because he stop and then Ted pull me up and now I sit on him. He hold me beside him I sit between Ted leg long time while banana go soft. Then we just go on side and lie down. I let water of Ted go out all over leg and bed. Long time I no feel this water from a man. It good now to have a man and Ted good man.

Ted no run away like I am bad lady. He stay and we talk and I tell him how he different from my husband and how I never see banana like his. He tell me nice thing like that hair on my pussy like little girl but I make love like a woman. I ask him again if he like my tits. He say that they small but not soft like big tit. Ted say he like that. He say I different from white lady and he like that too. I ask him if he love me and he say that he love me long time now but he want to go slow with me. 

I say that I not afraid of him. He number one with me now. Ted say now he happy. We go sleep get up late next day. Ted say we go shower same time. I say I too shy to have shower with man but he say that it OK because we now lover. I go in shower with him and we have more fun. I tell you next time, OK? I tell you so much my mouth hurt. You start write and I tell you more about Ted and me. I tell you about how we move in to same apartment. OK, next time?

Hanna finished her tea and looked at my pants. She said: "I think you get hard banana. Maybe I have friend that take care of you?" I said: "Hanna you just told me a good story and now I have a 'woody'. I'm afraid you will have to let yourself out of my house. I just can't walk you to the door right now. Keep me in mind if you have a friend who would like a date with me. Maybe I will be a lucky man like Ted" Hanna giggled a little and said goodbye. When I had recovered from what I heard, I began to set Hanna's story down as I remembered it so you could enjoy it as much as I did.

[i]To Be Continued...[/i]

Mellow Yellow Ch. 02



Chapter 2: Hanna Grows Bananas

I answered the knock on the door and let in Hanna. Hanna looked more radiant than I had ever seen her. She looked as if she was in her 20's, not her 30's. More than that, her clothes were becoming more stylish and feminine. I remembered how she dressed like a Saigon bag lady when we first met. Now, Hanna wore a little makeup and her dress even showed a bit of shapely leg. Hanna was starting to wear stylish heels. Hanna was always shy that she looked too short whenever she went out with Ted. I told her she looked very pretty today and that she seemed to be taking much better care of herself now that she was in love.

"Yes. Ted make me want look good for him. He good man. I think I want marry this guy. Today I tell you more story Ted and me. Maybe then you understand why I not same lady as before." Hanna sat down in the living room and I brought some tea and cookies. Hanna started to talk in her rapid-fire broken English. Fortunately, I recorded what she had to say. It was all I could do to keep notes on my laptop.

Last time, I tell you my first time I try Ted. I start to tell you next day we get up. OK, you remember. Ted and I get up and he say: "Let's have a shower together". I say I never have shower with man before. Ted say: "Hanna, we've been lying naked together all night and now you don't want me to see you in the shower? You're a funny lady." OK, I no fight with Ted. We go in to shower and I start wash myself. Ted say: "That's not the way it's done. Here, let me show you." Ted take soap and start wash me. He start wash my face and I close my eye. Ted say: "Why do your eyes go round when you close them? I never noticed that before." I say I not know. I Vietnamese.

Ted hand move down my body with hand, very soft. When he wash my tit, end of tit stand up. Ted laugh. Me, I feel horny. Ted wash all of me, even my leg. Ted wash long time between my leg. Then he give me soap and I start wash him. Ted bigger than me so I take more time wash him. I wash very good all Ted. I leave Ted banana last thing I wash. When I start wash, banana grow. I never see banana grow, always fuck in dark. Then I do something I never do before. I rinse soap off banana and I put in my mouth. 

Now banana really grow. I look up Ted and he look like he have fun. Me, I horny more. I try put my hand my pussy but Ted stop me and make me stand up. Ted lift me up and put me against shower wall. Then he let me down slowly on him banana. I feel banana go in me, no trouble today. I put arm around Ted neck, put my leg around Ted back and hold on. Banana go in, go in, take long time. Then I start to move a little, keep banana in me but no fall down. Feel so good I explode again like first time Ted eat pussy. 

I make noise, Ted make noise and we both make noise on wall. I say "I hope people next apartment no hear." Ted say "If they do hear us, we will just say we were fixing our plumbing." I laugh Ted joke but I feel me go tight inside around banana, he start make noise. Ted make noise and say loud Polish words again. I think he finish because banana go soft and he let me down.

I say "Ted, I want bath 15 minutes. I tired". Ted say OK and start wash me again while water fill bath. I no care. I just feel so warm and relax. I no care nothing, I feel so good. After bath, I get dress same as always for Sunday. I say myself, No Good! I no look good now I have boyfriend. Ted ask "You look sad. Did I do something wrong?" I say: "I no look good for you. I lose my face with you. I want be good looking lady with you" 

Ted say: "You look as good to me today as you did last night. Hanna, we are starting something new and we will both change each other. Next week we will go shopping like we always do but this time, we will buy some new clothes to make the new you." I say I hope new me look better than old me. Ted say yes. Ted always make me feel good. I make Ted some pho for breakfast. Ted say he like my Vietnamese food. I believe Ted like because he eat lot of pho. We talk lots that day. By late afternoon, Ted say he must go his place. I say I sad, I want Ted stay all time with me. Ted say he will call me telephone, kiss me, hold me tight and he go. I not know what I think. I happy, sad same time.

I go to work next day. I so happy now that I not care that cleaning in hospital hard work. I surprise when my friend ask why I work and not go for lunch. To me I think I only at work one hour. At lunch, all my friend ask why I an so happy today. I say "I happy because I have new boyfriend." 

They all talk one time and ask me who boyfriend. I no tell them he white guy. I want keep my friends guess. I say: "I tell you maybe later if we still go out. Too soon to tell you now." I start to eat my lunch and one lady see I bring banana to lunch. All my friend make fun me and say "Hanna eat banana. You like eat banana? You try banana new boyfriend already? How big banana you boyfriend?" I get angry and say that I no tell because they no nice to me. I only want eat lunch. They leave but I know they still want know everything. They start to talk at other table and I know they talk about me.

I have more trouble that week. I want telephone Ted and talk him. I want tell him I think I love him. I know if I call and tell him, Ted get scare of me and run away. I know Ted no push me and take long time to ask me to go to dance. Then I get mad at Ted. He no call and I think he think that I bad lady. I say in my head: "This white guy must be just like Vietnamese guy, fuck old lady and then run and hide." My head turn all week. Sometime I think I love Ted because he good man in bed. Sometime I think I hate Ted because he no call and he no like me. I almost go crazy when finally, telephone ring and it Ted.

I say "Why you not call me? You find young lady? Who she? She prettier? Maybe she white?"

Ted say: "Hanna, slow down. You're just like the white women who are always asking if you respect them in the morning. First of all, I don't think there is any other woman for me in the world except you. The reason I didn't call is that I wanted you to think about our weekend and if you really liked me. I haven't changed my mind about you at all. That's why I wanted to get together with you this weekend. Remember I said we would start getting new clothes for you. Saturday we start to shop for you and then you come to my place for dinner. I'll make some of my cooking for you?"

I stop talking. You know this not me, say nothing. Finally, I say "Ted. I crazy this week because you no call. I want talk you too much."

"Well, Saturday, come to my place and we will talk. I'll take care of everything so you won't have anything to worry about.

Saturday, Ted come for me, we go to mall shop. I think we have more fun shop now we boyfriend, girlfriend. Ted know in him head what he want me look like. I think sometimes he not know but I go wear clothes. Know what, Ted right. Everything he say I look good, I look good when I try. We buy just one thing because Ted say we go make me new lady slow.

Ted take me first time him place. Ted have nice place, little bigger my place. Him place different from Canadian place. Everything look little bit old. Ted say that how apartment look in Poland. Smell nice when we go in him place. He say he make supper last night and we just make hot. First, we sit down have tea. Ted bring out qua hong (persimmon) to eat. I say I like this fruit best, same my name. Ted say he want me be happy fist time him place.

Ted make good food. He make what he call bigos. This pig meat and cabbage but small piece meat inside. Canadian put big piece meat on plate, call barbecue. I no like. Too much work cut all things. No fun eat. Ted buy wine for dinner and I drink some. I no want Ted think I know nothing how him people eat but wine make my head start turn. Ted drink wine and he drink some white whisky. No like taste. Too bitter. Wine taste good me.

While we eat, we talk many thing. I think wine make me say thing to Ted that I keep quiet until now. I tell Ted, I only try my husband before. Only have one man, never white guy. In my country, only bad lady work in bar try white guy. I tell Ted my friends give me hard time but I no say I have white boyfriend. I ask Ted if he want Vietnamese girlfriend.

"Hanna, things are different in this country and different than they were years ago. My friends want me first to be happy and they don't care the kind of person I'm happy with. You do make me very happy. Is it OK that you have a white boyfriend?"

I say OK now but I say I scared first time to try white guy. My friend tell story about how bad white guy. But Ted make me feel like great lady, not like cleaning lady. I tell Ted he fuck very good. Make me no scared. I say Ted kiss pussy, first time I feel this, first time I get so horny I explode. I ask if my friend just make story so I don't get white boyfriend. 

"Hanna, oriental women are valued by white men. They give their men more respect than white women do and, as a result, we give them more love in return." I later ask what this "respect" but when Ted say word, I say in my head, "Must be good thing."

I wash dishes with Ted, watch some his television. Ted say "I think we've had a great day and I don't want it to end. Can you stay with me tonight?" I think Ted never ask me stay and I give big hug. Then I say "I no bring pajama. You want me sleep no clothes." Ted say: "I want you to sleep in my pajamas. I think that a woman in man's pajamas is very sexy."

Ted take me bedroom and help me take off clothes. Then he put him pajama on me. Too big! He roll up sleeve and leg. He tie up around my stomach. I think I look funny but Ted say I sexy. OK, I think maybe whisky make Ted head turn around. My head still full of wine so I no care. I want do what Ted like. I get in bed and Ted get him pajama and put on. I watch to get good look Ted banana. It big like last week but I not scared this time. I want banana again. I want try Ted too much, I think.

Ted turn out light but I no wait. This night, I start to kiss Ted first. Ted teach me how white girl kiss. We have fun make love in him pajama. Ted like open one button, see little bit my skin. He kiss that and I open same button him and kiss him. Ted open another button, I show one tit. He play with tit and I open one button on him. We do more button until all my top open. Ted now play with two tit, put face between tit. He soft man. He no hurt, just make me horny.

Then Ted put hand in pajama on my pussy. Lots of room in pajama. My pussy have lots of water, feel good. I want feel Ted banana so I put hand in him pajama. Him banana already have water. I never see this on man banana. I forget how big him banana but I no scare now. I know how good big banana. I think so much Ted banana that I forget Ted busy. Finger Ted now inside my pussy, make my water go all over pussy. Feel so good. Ted finger soft. I explode and scream Ted: "No stop, No stop."

Ted no stop say: "You're one sexy woman, Hanna. Now, we will do something that only people who love each other do." Ted take off my pajama because I no move after explode. Ted take off him pajama and lie wrong way on bed. He open my leg and open my pussy. I see banana in my face. Ted busy, have tongue in pussy now. I not know what do but I take banana in mouth like I do in shower. Ted banana taste good, little salty. I do same thing Ted banana as he do my pussy, lick all up down. I hear Ted say "How do you know what to do. You're so good." I not know what I do, I just do what I like.

This kiss each other make me so horny I explode two time now. I hope not same thing same thing Ted. I want hard banana in me. So, when I explode, I stop kiss banana. In my head, I only think how good I feel. I think I dream but when I stop explode, Ted right way on bed. I say Ted: "You stay there." Then I stand over Ted and start to sit on banana. I sit on Ted like Vietnamese sit when no chair. Easy for Vietnamese lady, not easy for white lady. Maybe this why Ted like me. I do thing white lady no can do. I never do this to man before. I think, maybe I still have wine in my head. I do thing, say thing I never do.

"Hanna, you are one tight woman" Ted say. I say Ted big guy and have bigger banana my husband. Tonight, banana go in more easy than first time. I have more water because I know how good banana feel. Also Ted put tongue on pussy, make water there. I make banana go in sit more. I say loud "Ai-ee Ted you make me go crazy. You man for me. I want banana." 

I make banana go in faster than last week but not too fast. More banana, more feel good. I no explode as I put in banana. I big boss now. Then all banana in, I start take out banana slow and put in slow. I start to feel more horny. This good me sit on Ted because I put banana inside me good place. I make myself more, more horny push banana Ted in, out. I know what come soon. I sit up down faster, faster. Everything inside me feel banana, my pussy feel banana as go in, out. Then I explode big time and Ted say loud: "I'm coming, I'm coming."

Explode me last long time. I not know what I doing if I still go up, down on banana. When I stop explode, I now lie on Ted. Ted look happy so I happy too. I like make my boyfriend happy. I no care all Ted water go over him. He look so good as he lie there.

This our second week, boyfriend, girlfriend. Try something different all time. We fuck many time now, many way. Maybe I say enough one day?

Finally Hanna seemed to be winding down. "OK. I tell you enough today. I think you get "woody" again because I talk. You got no lady, right? OK, you need good Vietnamese lady take care of you. This not me. You too young and Ted my man. I think good Vietnamese lady help you. We know how to take care of man."

We agreed that Hanna would tell me more later and she would go now and meet Ted for shopping. She giggled at my reluctance to get up but she said that she would let herself out. I turned my mind towards writing down Hanna's story and I couldn't help wondering what the next weekend would bring.

To Be Continued...



Mellow Yellow Ch. 03



Ch. 3: The Evil Mrs. Nguyen

Hanna came to my place to tell me more about Ted and herself. As soon as she came in, I knew my friend was in distress.

"What's the problem, Hanna?"

"I tell you what happen. I go out with Ted now three month so I think we almost old married couple. So, I think it OK tell my friend where I have work who my boyfriend. I say them 'My boyfriend Polish. Very nice guy' They say me, 'What this Polish? That mean he white?' I say them 'Yes, he white guy.' Then they all start talk and want know why I go with white guy. I say: 'Ted my boyfriend because he good me. He make me happy and he say me I make him happy. I say this good thing.' I find out some these ladies my friend, still talk me. Some no talk. They big mouth, say I bad lady have white boyfriend. I no care. They no my friend now. I have Ted and he good friend and good boyfriend." "Hanna. I still don't know what the problem is. You have a great guy for your boyfriend, you're going to get married and you found out who your real friends were."

"You no talk. You listen me. One these lady, Ba Nguyen, she bad lady long time ago in Vietnam. She work in bar. I say, she change here Canada, so I talk her. She start ask me many thing about Ted. I do wrong thing, I say how good Ted make love. Now she want know how big Ted banana, how many time he fuck me, everything we do. I say this too much. I no tell you this. She stop talking Ted banana but she still ask where Ted work, if I all time at his place. In my head, I say 'This woman still no good. She want try Ted.' What I do. I no want she take my man"

I had to reassure Hanna that Ted wanted a loving wife like Hanna, not an old hooker like Mrs. Nguyen. Hanna calmed down and we started to analyze, as best we could with her limited English, how serious Mrs. Nguyen might be in pursuing Ted. I pointed out that Mrs Nguyen was married. Hanna countered that Mrs. Nguyen probably got to like white men in her former profession. I said that, if she was older than Hanna, she wouldn't appeal to Ted. Hanna thought that Mrs. Nguyen could still make herself look good if she tried. We went back and forth like this for an hour. I saw that Hanna's story would have to wait for another week.

"Hanna, we aren't getting anywhere. Let me meet Mrs. Nguyen in person and I'll tell you if she's after Ted or not."

Probably I should tell you a bit about myself so what happened is comprehensible. I studied journalism but there aren't too many newspapers in Canada. Rather than being a starving poet or novelist, I got work as a technical writer. So, instead of reporting on late breaking news, I edited manuals on machinery, software and tried to clean up the messes lawyers made of the English language. It wasn't what I set out to do in life but it paid the bills.

I write freelance so I sometimes work well into the evening and weekends. Other times I have afternoons or even days free. That was how I started working with refugees, and especially Vietnamese refugees, when the boat people crisis hit. I thought of it as noble work and I learned a lot from the Vietnamese about oriental culture. I had always been interested in oriental people and more knowledge could only help my writing career, whenever I got around to starting one. That was how I met Hanna and how I helped this poor lady and her daughter settle in Canada.

While I was in the process of writing Hanna's story, I got a contract with the hospital she worked at to write a personnel manual for the hospital's HR department. Frankly, I found more humanity working with shyster lawyers than I did in that HR department. One thing I liked was that I would meet with the client and, if they didn't spoil my lunch, I could meet Hanna and a few other immigrants I worked with in the staff cafeteria. After telling me her fears about the evil Mrs. Nguyen, I arranged to meet Hanna one day at the hospital. I intended to evaluate the dragon lady without actually meeting her but Hanna was sitting at a table with Mrs. Nguyen when I arrived.

"Paul. I want you meet Ba Nguyen. You never see her before? You sit down with us? You get something eat now?" Hanna said.

While I was in line getting a sandwich, I peeked at the femme fatale that was causing Hanna so much grief. Mrs. Nguyen didn't look like a man stealer to me. She was definitely a high mileage unit with a drawn and tired face. On the other hand, Mrs. Nguyen wasn't ugly. There were traces of past glories that I could detect. Most Vietnamese have a small smile at most times but Mrs. Nguyen never smiled. When I came to the table, Hanna and Mrs. Nguyen were speaking Vietnamese. I sat down and Hanna switched to English.

"This Paul, he nice guy. He help me, other Vietnamese lots of time. He help me move one time." 

Hanna started extolling my virtues in a long monologue. I was getting a definite impression that Mrs. Nguyen was not much of a conversationalist in English. Suddenly there was an announcement on the PA system: "Hanna Li. Please come to the 4th floor east for an emergency cleanup!" 

Hanna muttered something that sounded like "Oh shit" to me and said:

"How long I be I no know. Paul. If you want go home, you no wait."

Hanna quickly left to take care of the emergency and I was left with Mrs. Nguyen. Wanting to be polite, I embarked on some small talk.

"How come we haven't met before? I worked with many Vietnamese at the Refugee Centre."

Mrs. Nguyen's English was better than Hanna's but still heavily accented: "I have private sponsor. My husband and me, we get sponsor and they help us. Never need go to Refugee Centre. Tell me this. Why you work with Vietnamese people? What you get out of this? What Hanna do for you?"

Mrs. Nguyen was obviously an industrial strength cynic. I told her that what I got out of working with Vietnamese refugees couldn't be measured in money or in a favour-for-favour way. I found new friends and I learned things about Vietnam that I could only learn otherwise by expensive travel. I said that I was a writer who still had to produce his first novel and I was seriously thinking of an oriental theme. I don't know how much of this sunk in or whether she could believe that someone could help without asking something in return.

"Yes but why you like Vietnamese lady like Hanna? You try Hanna yet? I hear she like white guy. Hanna have white guy for boyfriend. You ever be Hanna boyfriend?"

This was not going in the direction I wanted: "No, Mrs. Nguyen. Hanna and I are good friends but we aren't intimate. Hanna is very much in love with Ted and Ted loves her very much, in return from what she tells me. In their case, I think it has nothing to do with Hanna being Vietnamese and Ted being Polish. They are just two people who are right for each other."

Mrs. Nguyen's face started to soften a little bit: "OK, I think I see now. You nice guy. You like all Vietnamese, not just Hanna?"

"Yes, I just like being with Vietnamese and learning about them."

"OK, you come my place some time? I tell you more about Vietnamese. You give me telephone number, I call you?"

I was finished my sandwich by now. Hanna hadn't returned and I wanted to get out of there without any further involvement with this lady: "Mrs. Nguyen, I need to leave now and do some business with another client. If you want to call me, I'm in the telephone book. It was nice to meet you and I hope you have a nice day. I hope you don't get called for an emergency like Hanna."

I said good bye and left feeling that that was the last I would see or hear of Mrs. Nguyen. Vietnamese never looked in the telephone Directory, in my experience. They kept the numbers of all their friends on a piece of paper by the telephone. So, you can imagine how surprised I was when a few weeks later Mrs. Nguyen telephoned to ask me to come for supper the following evening. I happened to be free and accepted, even though I wasn't excited about visiting the Nguyens. On the other hand, depending on which way my novel developed, I might need some information from the dragon lady and her husband.

The Nguyens didn't live in the "Vietnamese ghetto" so I didn't need to worry about Hanna finding out I had actually been in the dragon's den. Mrs. Nguyen opened the door and invited me in. She had shed her cleaning lady image and had dressed up and put on makeup. As she walked towards the living room, she was noticeably moving her cute little bum from side to side. Well, what did I know about how old bar girls acted in retirement? Their apartment was slightly seedy and furnished in garage sale chic. Obviously, the Nguyens were getting by but not overly successful. Something bothered me and I realized that it was the absence of Mr. Nguyen.

Mrs. Nguyen brought tea and I asked: "When will Mr. Nguyen be joining us?"

"Duc no come tonight. He work construction. Have job in (city 300 km away). Duc not be back until weekend. Just you, me for supper."

Probably I should have politely left after tea but three things kept me there. Mrs. Nguyen wasn't shy about feeding me information abut the seedy side of Saigon life, information I thought I might need for a story sometime in the future. She wouldn't exactly admit she had been a hooker but what else would a beautiful, young Vietnamese woman be doing in bars frequented by servicemen. The woman had a talent for stories that almost got to the truth but then abruptly shifted gears. In a way, listening to Mrs. Nguyen was like one of those bad dreams where the scenery keeps shifting and nothing ever makes sense.

Another reason I stayed put was the smell that was coming out of the kitchen. I've always been a sucker for oriental cooking, ever since my days at university. Mrs. Nguyen definitely had kitchen talent. Perhaps there was some truth to her stories about working in restaurants, not bars. I just had to see what she was going to put on the table.

My third reason for not getting out of there was that Hanna had given me an unhealthy interest in oriental women. She was almost bragging when she claimed how good she was for Ted and how happy she made him. I had to find out if all oriental women were as good in the sack as Hanna said she was. Call it lust or call it curiosity but I just had to indulge this new interest of mine. I was wrestling with this problem when Mrs. Nguyen stopped in the middle of a story that was starting down a road she didn't want to take me just then.

"We go eat now? I hope chopstick OK with you. We no have knife and fork here."

I said that I was OK with that and we went to the dining room. The Nguyens ate like most Vietnamese do, with small rice bowls, picking food out of common dishes. I've always found this very intimate although Vietnamese think it's natural. Many people who worked with refugees didn't like it, especially the health fanatics. Maybe that was why I was so popular with Vietnamese. They probably felt that someone was not a true friend if they wouldn't eat at their table. Mrs. Nguyen obviously didn't have any problem with Vietnamese tradition and even picked out what she considered to be morsels and placed them in my bowl.

"You want beer? I go get one for you same way I make for Duc."

I said OK and Mrs. Nguyen produced a glass of warm beer with a couple of ice cubes. Wherever Mr. Nguyen came from, they didn't have refrigerators in their bars.

Mrs. Nguyen's stories started to drop some pretenses. The "restaurants" where she worked became bars and her "waitress" jobs became hostess. She admitted to having white boyfriends. Mrs. Nguyen said she like them because they were bigger than Vietnamese men, without defining what she had in mind. Mrs. Nguyen asked me if I had ever had a Vietnamese girlfriend. I said that all my girlfriends had been white.

The final pretense of the evening was dropped: "You want try Vietnamese lady tonight? You give me $50 and we go...."

Mrs. Nguyen clapped her hands turned wrist to wrist in the universal sign for transactional sex. So, that was the deal tonight.

"Mrs. Nguyen, I have to say no to you. I've never paid for sex in my life and I'm not starting now. Besides, how do I know Duc won't barge in and find us in bed together"

Mrs. Nguyen stopped smiling: "You no like me? You no worry Duc come home. He away long time. Just you and me tonight. How about you try me no charge? I think you nice guy and you never try Vietnamese woman. You try me and you like what I do. I know how take care of white guy." 

Mrs. Nguyen had sensed that I was curious about oriental women and had pressed the right button. Why not now, I thought? Mrs. Nguyen really wasn't all that bad looking. Plus she had just offered me a free sample. Without even waiting for a yes, Mrs. Nguyen grabbed my arm and pulled me to her bedroom. Mrs. Nguyen got undressed without any ceremony and pulled down the sheets. She lay on the bed, raising and lowering her hips. She knew her men. Don't give them time to start thinking. In my case, the brain had gone on holiday long ago and my dick was taking charge of the situation. I matched my dragon lady for lack of ceremony and climbed on the bed. Mrs. Nguyen also didn't want any ceremony as far as foreplay was concerned and pointed down to her pussy.

I decided I had better start taking over here: "Stop jumping around and open your legs."

Mrs. Nguyen did as I ordered and I got between her legs. Well, here I was face to face with my first oriental beaver and why shouldn't I enjoy myself? I got my face down in position and started to open up the Gates of Hell on Mrs. Nguyen. Interesting, I thought. There was very little bush on this woman, just some hair above her pussy lips. I found her pussy lips firmer, tighter and less hair than the white women I was used to doing muff dives. I got the tongue in there and started to caress her inner lips with it. I broke through and found a tight inverted V leading upwards to a hardening clitoris. Her smell was like good quality nuoc mam and the woman was clean. She was also wet, even before I started working on her.

"What you do? What you do? I never have man do this to me."

I wasn't about to believe her and I wasn't about to stop the job for a long explanation on oral sex. I kept this up for five minutes and from the sounds Mrs. Nguyen gave out, she must have been having the time of her life. I decided enough was enough and I moved up and wasted no time in putting in my dick. That's not my usual style as I like to work the dick in slowly, especially if the woman is tight. Mrs. Nguyen wasn't especially tight plus she moved to get as much of my dick in as fast as possible. All right by me, lady.

I was starting to stroke a little and Mrs. Nguyen said "I come" and started that bucking motion with her hips I had seen before. Well, here was real talent and Mrs. Nguyen was good at what she did. Under the circumstances, there was no way I could last and I came with great force. When she was finished, she pushed me away and grabbed some Kleenex from beside the bed, wiping herself with no great ceremony. She gave me the box and I wiped myself off. Taking care of white guys had its limits, it seems.

I got dressed and so did she and then I was ushered to the door, still no ceremony, no warmth.

"I go work tomorrow. You go now. I call you sometime" Mrs. Nguyen's face had the first hint of a smile.

I wondered that week, if she would call again and I did get a call about two weeks later and several times after that. Mrs. Nguyen didn't bother taking the route to my dick through the stomach. Why should she bother with food? After all, it wasn't as if I was a paying customer. I gathered that Mrs. Nguyen developed a taste for white bread instead of brown rice every time her husband hit the road. I didn't mind because I was short of work at the time and short of women. I don't think Mrs. Nguyen minded because she learned a lot from me. I taught her to slow down, enjoy the foreplay and even to make a little noise when she came. One thing I couldn't teach her was to show some passion when making love. It was almost as if she was clinically studying white guy technique. I know it may sound arrogant to claim that I taught an ex-hooker everything she knows about sex but it's true in this case.

Suddenly the calls stopped. I later learned that the Nguyens had left the city for work elsewhere. I don't know if Mrs. Nguyen had tried out her new-found knowledge on Duc and he figured out that someone with more skill was boinking his wife. On the other hand, Duc seemed to find construction work in a lot of cities where drugs entered the country. I never heard that the law was after him. If he was involved in some shady business that went wrong, he could have left some bad deals behind. Whatever the reason, the Nguyens didn't leave anyone a forwarding address and, as far as I know, nobody ever asked for one.

After my first visit to Mrs. Nguyen, Hanna never complained again that Mrs. Nguyen was asking too many questions about Ted and their sex life. Some good came out of my sordid affair with Mrs. Nguyen after all. One thing I did like about Mrs. Nguyen was that she was discreet. Hanna was the kiss and tell type but I never heard a word that Mrs. Nguyen bragged that she was having me on the side. That was a good thing because it would have ruined what happened to me next.

To Be Continued...



Mellow Yellow Ch. 04



With the abrupt departure of the dragon lady from my life, I entered a sexual desert. Mrs. Nguyen was an older woman but she undeniably had some talent. I was always bothered by her "businesslike" approach, however. I wanted to get involved with a Vietnamese woman but develop something deeper than a business arrangement. I wanted a relationship at all levels. That was what I wanted. Intellectual fulfillment as well as getting into the woman's pants. Yes, Mrs. Nguyen had hooked me on Vietnamese women and I wanted more. Hanna came to my rescue with a phone call one day:

"Paul. I have friend same age you. I want you meet my friend. You come Sunday and have dim-sum with Ted, Mei-Ling and me?"

I have never been a fan of blind dates as I always ended up with my "good buddy's" girlfriend's ugly cousin. I had met so many women with a "nice personality" this way that I was toying with the idea of turning down Hanna's invitation. Still, Hanna was good hearted and I wanted to meet Ted after Hanna told me so much about him. I thought I needed to assure him that he was on the right track with Hanna. 

Hanna said to meet on Sunday at 10:00 am. Well, even if the blind date didn't work out, the food would be good. As Mrs. Nguyen figured out, my personality consists of lust for oriental women and oriental food.

Hanna picked the biggest, most popular Chinese restaurant in the city. Hanna and Ted had arrived already and my blind date had their back to me. I picked my way towards their table between the chaos of dim-sum carts, steam carts and toddlers exploring the floor. Hanna, as usual, spoke first:

"You find us easy? Please meet Ted. Is he like I tell you? I want you meet my friend Mei-Ling? You like her?"

"Hanna," I said, "you really are something. I haven't even been introduced to Mei-Ling and you are asking me questions about her already. Let me do it. I'm Paul." 

Suddenly, I realized that I hadn't really looked at my blind date. She turned to me and extended a soft, gentle hand. She certainly wasn't Hanna's ugly cousin. In fact she was the prettiest oriental woman I had seen outside movies. Her hair was styled and her clothes were fashionable. She was younger than Hanna and more graceful in her movements.

"Hi Paul. I'm Melinda Tran. Like Hanna, I westernized my given name. Most Canadians find Melinda a lot easier to say than Mei-Ling. Sit down and let's order. There's been some great-looking stuff go by on the carts." 

I was so taken aback by Melinda's appearance and her smooth, almost accentless, English that I must have been standing there like an idiot. I couldn't focus on anything to say. I think I said something when I sat down but it got lost as Hanna started her rapid-fire monologue. I must admit that it wasn't as graphic as what she had been telling me for her story. 

Hanna was very much in love with Ted, I could tell. Hanna told us story after story about Ted's virtues, his good taste in all things and how they planned to move in together. Ted must have loved Hanna very much as well. He had infinite patience with Hanna's long stories, held her hand when she told something sad and gently corrected her English when it became too fractured. I really didn't get to learn much more about Ted than what Hanna had told me. From all appearances, he was as kind, loving and confident as she had pictured him.

I also didn't get to learn much about Melinda at the meal other than she was a seafood junkie. Hanna's stories were so long and involved that it was difficult to direct any attention to the lovely woman beside me. Once Melinda did comment that I used chopsticks very expertly. I managed to tell her that I had learned how at the University, which had a number of students from Hong Kong. Melinda managed to say that she had been to University in Saigon before Hanna started another story. The food was great but I was frustrated that I couldn't get to know the first blind date that I was ever interested in.

Ted and I split the bill and we got up to leave. I then started to look at Melinda again and noticed she was about 5'-4", taller than Hanna but shorter than an average white woman. I will never know for sure why Hanna dominated the dinner table conversation. Hanna could be a compulsive talker as I well knew. On the other hand, perhaps Hanna's plan was to talk up Ted and generate for Melinda as much interest in white men as I had in oriental women. Plan or compulsion, Hanna must have realized that she hadn't given us a chance to talk because she turned to us and said:

"Paul. You please to take Mei-ling home? Ted and I go shop now." 

I said I didn't mind at all if Melinda didn't mind my old car. Melinda smiled and said she hoped the car could make it to the other side of the city. On the way to Melinda's place, she opened up a lot. Melinda explained that she had a Chinese given name and a Vietnamese surname because her father was Vietnamese and her mother was Chinese. Melinda felt that because of her mixed parentage, she had not been accepted by either the Vietnamese or the Chinese. 

Her father worked for the government, which was why she had had to leave Vietnam. Her father had used his influence to get Melinda a scholarship to the University. She had studied English language and literature, hence her flawless English. Although she said she had trouble meeting men, Melinda had a boyfriend in University and they had planned to get married. He was Chinese but his family disapproved of Melinda and broke up their affair. I thought to myself, "I don't think his parents ever got to meet you or they would have changed their minds".

When we got to Melinda's place, I said: "Hanna's a great person but she really doesn't play cupid very well. Can we try and get together again on our own? I belong to an art film club society they are showing a Fassbinder next Saturday. From what you've told me, I think that might be something you would like"

"Yes, that sounds great. And dinner will be my treat this time. We'll go to a Vietnamese restaurant before the show. It's a lot quieter than the Chinese restaurant we were in today so we can talk more. Plus, you'll get to see the Vietnamese half of me. I'll call you Friday and we'll make arrangements."

That week, I just couldn't think about anything else but Melinda. At university, I had never had much to do with the female students from Hong Kong. They were outnumbered three to one by the Chinese male students and were in great demand. I hung a bit with the guys as I was interested in oriental art and culture to further my writing career. It was an effort to be friends with Chinese students. They were insufferable nerds as they were usually studying something like engineering or physics. They really had no great interest in art or literature as Melinda did. So really, I had never met a person from the Far East like Melinda. Mrs. Nguyen didn't count as she was neither intellectual nor an interesting person. I wondered if any passion lurked beneath Melinda's cultured exterior. I was sure this evening would be interesting, even if we didn't connect.

Melinda called Friday evening and we arranged dinner and the art movie. I picked her up and we went to a restaurant in the "Little Saigon" area of the city. I can't tell you the name of what we ate as Melinda ordered it in rapid-fire Vietnamese. Take my word for it that it was good. I think that Melinda had been speculating about me during the week as I had been about her. She had all kinds of questions about me, my work, my University days. I managed to answer everything truthfully except the part about my only having relationships with white women. I don't think that was a real lie because Mrs. Nguyen and I never really discussed anything but sex. That's not a relationship. So, I said:

"No, I guess I have never really been able to get to know a Vietnamese woman, except for Hanna and she's already taken."

"Well, I'm not a good example for you as I'm half Chinese and half Vietnamese. I think I have the best of both cultures. My father said that he always wanted Chinese working for him but he would rather go and party with Vietnamese as they knew how to have fun. So there you have it. I'm a good worker and you can play with me."

I wasn't sure if the double-entendre was deliberate but it was time to go to the movie. Melinda's education in literature seemed to lead her to find sexual symbolism in features of the movie I thought were entirely innocent. It made me curious as to what thoughts inhabited that mind when she wasn't watching Fassbinder. When I took Melinda home, she said she had had fun and that I should call her again when I had someplace interesting to go. She was free on weekends and evenings except Tuesdays and Thursdays, when she had classes. She was trying to upgrade her degree and get into nursing. Melinda gave me a sisterly kiss and asked me again to call her.

Things went very slowly along with Melinda for a number of weeks like that. Melinda taught me more about sexual symbolism at the art gallery, the movies and in books we had both read. Sometimes listening to Melinda, I would conclude the whole world was one big blue movie, if you knew where to look. Despite that, Melinda would never get more physical than holding hands or the kisses on the cheek. You might say that I'm not aggressive or that I'm a slug or I just don't have a proper sex drive. None of that is true. My passion for Melinda grew every time we dated, despite her reluctance to touch. On the other hand, maybe Melinda wanted the passion to build below the surface. From my friendship with Hanna, I knew that she took things very slowly with Ted. Ted had been very patient with Hanna and I had the same barriers of culture and race to overcome. I had every intention of ultimately making love to Melinda but I knew it would not be a quick seduction. The truth is that I was enjoying taking my time. Melinda was intelligent, fun to be around and the lack of sexual tension made us comfortable.

Then it happened. One night, I invited Melinda in for coffee after going to a show. Melinda didn't have the same aversion to coffee as Hanna did. I was playing my guitar for Melinda and singing a song that was somewhat romantic. Melinda stopped me and asked:

"Hanna tells me that you are writing a story about her romance with Ted. Can I read what you have done so far? They are such a great couple together. I want to know how to be like them"

"Melinda, it's a love story but it's more like erotica than a Harlequin Romance. My erotic stories aren't great literature and they are very graphic. I write them for my own pleasure and not for the public. Are you sure you want to read Hanna's stories?"

Melinda insisted she wanted to see what I wrote. I got the drafts from my computer and Melinda started to read. I wasn't sure how Melinda would react to erotica. Her taste in the written word seemed to tend to existentialist literature. I didn't have long to wait. Melinda started to breathe more quickly and I have never seen oriental eyes open so wide. I even think I detected some sweat on her high, smooth forehead. Melinda's body language was becoming softer and more sexual. I realized that my story was having an effect on Melinda.

"That's remarkable, the two of them. Do you know how you've captured Hanna perfectly when you write exactly as she talks? Everything she tells me about her and Ted must be true then." 

Melinda put down the papers and she paused as if she was in deep thought. "Do you think they're really like that when they're alone?" Melinda queried.

"I can't say as I was never in their bedroom taking notes. I only wrote it down afterwards. I tried to put it in Hanna's words exactly as she told me. To answer your question, I don't have any reason to think that Hanna was making all this up. You see the two of them together."

"That's not what I meant. Do you think that Ted really eats Hanna's pussy? I, mean, she has told me that Ted eats her pussy but I didn't believe her until I read it here."

Melinda turned again to Hanna's tale and started to read again. "There, Hanna's kissing Ted's dick and putting it in her mouth. I've never done that."

I couldn't believe my intellectual literature major was using words like dick and pussy. I decided to push a little: "Haven't you ever had your pussy eaten?"

Melinda didn't miss a step: "No, I never have. My boyfriend in Saigon, we did have sex. I'm not a virgin if that's what you were wondering. We did try a few things but never oral sex. I just don't think that oriental guys like oriental sex. Actually, I don't know. I just don't have much experience. Do all white guys eat pussy?"

Melinda wasn't teaching me about the dirty parts of the movie any longer. Now she was the eager student asking me all sorts of questions about oral sex and white guys.

"Melinda, I can't talk about every white guy but I can tell you about myself."

"OK, tell me about what you do with oral sex. You have to tell me about the women you've been with. Have you ever had sex with an oriental woman? Did you and Hanna ever have sex?" 

I had to get around this without mentioning Mrs. Nguyen. "Hanna is like a Vietnamese aunt to me. She's older than me and I don't think we would connect sexually. Anyway, she has Ted and I wouldn't steal his woman."

"Paul. I want you to go to the STD clinic and get a test. I want to try oral sex with you."

This was what I was waiting for. I went over and sat down beside Melinda. I said:

"Melinda, I have been hoping for some time that our relationship would become deeper and more intimate." Or something like that. I was really excited that this beautiful oriental woman wanted me physically. I asked:

"Melinda, why me? Why wouldn't you want to try it with someone Chinese or Vietnamese? Can't you find someone at the University?"

I knew I was in dangerous territory. I was asking a question I might not like the answer to. I had to know and I was trusting that Hanna had talked up my personality as well as the prowess of the white male.

"Oriental guys want younger women than me and, sorry to tell you, the white guys I've met are too aggressive and act like total jerks. It seems that any guy, when he finds out that I know more than him, isn't interested in me anymore. I'm not going to act like a bimbo just to get a guy. But you're different. I think that you like a smart woman and you haven't acted like a jerk at all."

I didn't say that I had learned not to push from Ted. That was the first time she had indicated she was interested in me. 

"Melinda, I think you should also go to the doctor, get checked out yourself and either fitted with a diaphragm or get contraceptive pills."

The weeks spent sizing each other up had not been wasted. I learned that Melinda always alternated between the passionate and the practical and that was what how I had to treat her now.

"You're absolutely right. Your advice is absolutely right. We both need to get checked out and we need some protection. I really want you to eat my pussy, Paul. I really have gotten to like you very much. You're different from any guy I have ever met.." She kissed me and then she moved away as if she was afraid that the passionate side of her nature would take over.

"I can't wait until we get together again." With that she was gone. 

The evening came and I drove across town to Melinda's place. Melinda treated all this as serious business. As we traded our tests, I noticed that she was slightly nervous. Both tests came up with the right answers but I knew I would have to overcome her nervousness. I sat Melinda down and we traded some small talk but she abruptly got up and said: "I'm going to get ready in the bedroom. I'll tell you when you can come in."

I must have waited 10 minutes and then she quietly said "I'm ready now." I went into her bedroom and I could see in the dim light that she was under the sheets with her back to me. I started to undress. Melinda never looked at me and never said a word. I said as softly as I could: "I'm ready now and I'm getting in with you." As I slipped into bed, Melinda turned on to her back and lay there rigid with her legs open.

"OK, eat my pussy please."

I couldn't believe the situation. What kind of sex education did they give in Vietnam? And for all the literature Melinda had studied, hadn't she ever read the Kama Sutra? I said: "Melinda, we have all evening to do this. Don't be in such a hurry. Please relax a little bit. This is something to be savoured, not rushed. I moved closer and she turned her back to me but she didn't pull away from me. I followed Ted's lead and put my arm around Melinda's naked body, making certain I didn't touch anything vital. My first discovery was that Ted was right. An oriental woman's skin is smoother than a white woman's. Melinda felt like she was covered in satin or silk.

As Melinda began to relax, I started to kiss her between the shoulder blades. I detected movement towards me and more pronounced breathing. I kissed up and down that expanse of light brown skin that was Melinda's back, enjoying each caress of her smoothness. I couldn't get enough of the strange feel of a young oriental woman. Mrs. Nguyen certainly felt smooth but not as smooth as Melinda. I moved my hand over Melinda's hips and along her thighs. She was now not just breathing loudly but definitely sighing with each caress. I moved my hand over her tight little bum cheeks and around her stomach. Then I kissed Melinda on the shoulder, along the shoulder and up her slender neck. While I was occupying her attention that way, I moved my hand towards her tits. I knew that Oriental women had smaller tits than white women and I was prepared for how Melinda's just fit my hand. I wasn't prepared for how firm Melinda's tit was. At the same moment, I kissed behind Melinda's ear, making sure that she got some breath in the ear.

"Oh, Paul, Oh Paul." was all Melinda said. In fact, the OH's outnumbered the Paul's about four to one. Melinda was now completely relaxed and eager for her first lesson in love. I turned Melinda towards me and kissed her on the mouth. Melinda responded by opening her mouth. I played with my tongue along her lips and teeth and slowly started to penetrate her mouth. The taste of Melinda's mouth was sweet, like star anise. Suddenly she thrust her tongue into my mouth and eagerly explored me. I don't know if she had ever kissed her Chinese boyfriend like that but she certainly enjoyed it with me.

I was the one to move away and said "I want to kiss your firm little boobies." I sensed that Melinda was still a child as far as sex was concerned and a bit of childish talk would help her lessons. Then I started to kiss those tits that had so fascinated my hands, They were so firm that they stood up even when Melinda was lying on her back. I kissed all around, I caressed all around, working my way to the brown tips. Melinda's OH's started to have inflection and, even though Melinda was by now totally inarticulate, I was receiving total communication as to what she liked and didn't like. On the other hand, I didn't find much that Melinda didn't like.

Finally, I got up and moved to her legs, which she now eagerly parted for me. I moved between her legs and then I lifted up her knees. "Why are you doing that?" Melinda asked. "It puts you in the right position so I can eat your pussy better" I moved up between those smooth, willing legs and came face to face with the second oriental pussy of my life. If Melinda and Mrs. Nguyen were typical, I say that oriental guys have a real treat with their women. They have hardly any bush. Their beavers resemble the beavers of white jail bait. Melinda later assured me that her beaver was natural. She didn't trim her bush at all. Then her smell hit me. It was faintly like nuoc mam, not as strong as Mrs. Nguyen and pleasant. I could have breathed in the aroma of Melinda's beaver all night but I had work to do. I opened her firm, tight outer lips. The inner lips were pronounced, coming to a sharp inverted V at the top.




Mellow Yellow Ch. 04



I slowly put my tongue beetween her inner lips and tasted Melinda. She was already very wet and the taste was so pleasant, so sexy that it aroused me far more than any other pussy I had tasted. I gently moved my tongue up and down in that narrow little groove. Melinda went bananas, if I may use the expression. She screamed: "Don't stop!" That was something I had no intention of doing. Finally she came and, when she stopped coming, she panted: "Hanna was right. It's so good. Do it again"

I crawled up and placed my pecker in her tight slit. Melinda went rigid on me again and said: "The Vaseline is on the night table. Let me put it on."

"Melinda, from what I've seen, you don't need it." I was moving Mr. Stuffy up and down that little V and Melinda started to relax and enjoy. Melinda was so wet from my tongue and her own wetness that this would be all we would need. When I was sure that I had gotten the tip wet enough, I moved the tip down her inner lips and found what Mr. Stiffy was looking for. Man, was Melinda ever tight. I had to push in a little and then pull out and then push in a little and out. This looked like it was working and I slowly worked my pecker in.

Melinda said "It's like I've died and gone to heaven. Paul, you're so good. I want all of you." No more orders for Vaseline.

As my exploration of the mysterious Orient went in deeper and deeper, I discovered fascinating things about Melinda. Ted was right, you could feel the cervix on an oriental woman. Mrs. Nguyen wasn't tight enough to feel that. Besides, Mrs. Nguyen spent so much time bouncing up and down that I never could feel much of her. The other fascinating discovery was that the narrow V of Melinda's inner lips rubbed the upper part of the shaft as it went in and out. This woman was doing a number on both ends of my pecker. As I backed out and then slowly explored even deeper, I wondered how I could stand this. Every time Melinda would come, she would tighten around me and tease my pecker even more. Finally, I managed to get it all in without going off myself. Melinda's head was rolling from side to side and she was saying: "It only gets better and better."

I waited a minute so I wouldn't come myself and then I started to pump a little bit. I just had to feel those tight pussy lips rubbing along my shaft. Little did I know that those light lips were also massaging Melinda's clitoris and driving her even more crazy. I started moving in and out faster and faster and Melinda was screaming like a lunatic. I didn't care because her cervix was rubbing my tip and I was going crazy. Finally, I came myself and it was like no orgasm I had had before. It was protracted and it was all over my body. I think everything on me was twitching when I came.

When I finally pulled out, I was still hard. Melinda reached for the Kleenex, placed one between her legs and wiped me clean. Melinda was always well prepared. We just lay beside each other with my arm under her neck and her hand holding my dick.

Finally, Melinda broke the silence. "Hanna told me it would be good but I really had no idea how good it would be."

"Melinda, was it good enough to try again?"

"Paul, I'm exhausted and you've left me quite satisfied. Just don't leave me now. Please stay with me all night."

I stayed with Melinda that night and many nights after that. In fact, we are still together and married. Everything she knows about sex, she learned from me. It's fair to say that Melinda was a much more attentive student than Mrs. Nguyen. Remember that slogan, "Once you've tried Black, you never go back." Mine is: "Now I've tried Yellow, I'm always her fellow." I'll keep you posted.

To Be Continued...



Mellow Yellow Ch. 05



Chapter 5: Nerds in Love

Melinda was still shy after our first time to make love. It's not possible for an average white male, no matter how sensitive he may be, to overcome 25 years of inexperience and thousands of years of culture. Melinda wanted me to stay with her until the morning. She obviously wanted me to respect her in the morning. Despite our intimacy and Melinda's assurances that it was the best sex of her life, Melinda rolled over and went to sleep. I tried to hold her in the spoon position but she said that she couldn't sleep like that. It took some time before she would let me hold her in bed. Our first time to sleep in the same bed and we were like a couple that had been married for a century.

Melinda woke up first and woke me up while she was searching for a house robe in her closet.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to have a shower. You really made me sweat last night."

"Don't you want to shower together like Hanna and Ted did their first time together?"

"Paul. Haven't you realized by now that I'm shyer than Hanna or any of the white girls you've been with? We will try everything but let me discover things at my speed."

By now, I realized that Melinda was her own person so I didn't contradict her and let her go shower. Actually, I wanted to be alone with my thoughts about the previous evening. I had made it with Melinda, the object of my lust for almost two months. She was everything I had ever hoped for. Her body was spectacular, tight where it needed to be and soft in the right places. Her shyness meant that I would be able to teach her everything about sex, just as she had taught me everything about the movies.

Finally, Melinda finished and said that I could have the bathroom. If I wanted to know how a Vietnamese woman was different from a white woman, the bathroom gave me no clue. There were no towels in the bathroom because Melinda had used them all, including a towel/turban thing on her head. The toilet was slathered in fuzzy coverings that caused the lid to slam shut in midstream while a guy is having a pee. The bathroom was all steamed up, just like after my white girlfriends left it. This made the mirror unusable, so I couldn't have shaved, even if I had found a razor. Melinda had no razor, not even one of those horrible flat-handled ones that are made especially for women. This was the only clue that this wasn't a white woman's bathroom. Melinda had almost no body hair, except for a small bit of bush. Actually, I wasn't desperate for a shave. I have a beard but it's nice to keep it trimmed and shaped.

Melinda brought me some towels and I showered in about a quarter the time it took Melinda. I found her shampoo, something with the brand name of a European dress designer. The designer should have stuck to his sewing machine. Then I thought, why am I complaining about Melinda's bathroom? All these little feminine touches confirmed that I was the first guy to stay here. Not only was I her first white lover, I was her first lover in Canada. I dried myself and headed for my clothes in the bedroom.

Melinda had dried her hair, gotten dressed and was searching for her shoes when I came in the bedroom. She was bent over and when she looked up, her eyes were crotch level. The heat and steam in the bathroom had an effect on my dick and I came into the bedroom swinging. Melinda was so impressed that her brown oriental eyes went absolutely round. She sat down on the bed and just stared at it

"I didn't get a look at it last night. Did you give me all that? You're so much bigger than my old boyfriend but I'm not sore at all this morning."

"Thanks, Melinda, for the compliment. My dick has always been a source of pride. Yes, I got it all in but you didn't make it easy for me. You're the tightest woman I've ever made love to. But, I got you properly prepared and that's the secret to good sex. You feel what you should feel and you don't feel anything you don't want to feel."

"Tell me, Paul, why are white guys circumcised? Hanna said that Ted's dick looked funny to her. I just think it makes your dick look different."

"For some Canadians, it's a religious issue. For the rest of us, it's a health issue. It makes keeping the dick clean easier. There are other benefits. I can last longer and there are Jewish women who won't go to bed with a guy unless they are circumcised."

Melinda suddenly realized she was discussing dicks with a naked man in her bedroom and told me to get dressed. She got up, kissed me on the chest, giggled and went to the kitchen. Melinda warmed up some noodle soup while I was getting dressed. I was hungry from the night's work and I was looking forward to food. I had never had a Vietnamese breakfast before. Mrs. Nguyen had always booted me out as soon as I had finished.

"Melinda, your cooking is as good as your lovemaking."

"You're kind but any Vietnamese woman can do this. Paul, was I really good for you? I'm sure that I don't have the experience that some of your girlfriends have had."

"Melinda, experience doesn't matter when it comes to sex. What matters two people are compatible. That means in and out of bed. You can never have good sex with someone you don't like."

"You're right that I liked you as a person long before we had sex. In fact, you're the first guy I seemed to get along with. What is my problem? Why do you like me but other guys just give me a couple of dates and then it's bye-bye?"

"Melinda, you're an intellectual woman. Men make two mistakes with intellectual women. The first mistake is that they feel intimidated by a woman who knows more than they do on certain subjects. It's an ego thing with guys, especially the control freaks. They always want to show off and they can't with a smart woman. I actually like a woman who can hold her own with me. When an intelligent woman says she likes me, it means she has made a decision that is based partly on reason, not just on emotion. That brings me to the second mistake than men make. Most men assume that an intelligent woman has no passion. That's just not true in most cases. An intelligent woman usually has more passion than a bimbo. It's there waiting for the intelligent man to unlock and enjoy. That's why we are so compatible. We are both intelligent and we don't want it all immediately. The others can call us nerds. They can call us anything as long as we're happy with each other."

"I think you're right. The white guys seemed to run when I tried to make some intelligent conversation. My boyfriend in Vietnam complained that I just lay on my back when we had sex. Doesn't it bother you that I have so little experience?"

"First of all, you didn't lie on your back, once you started enjoying yourself. Secondly, I don't expect you to learn everything on the first lesson. The fun part of lovemaking is that there is so much to discover about it and about what the other person wants. besides, I like being your teacher and the one to discover your passionate side."

"OK, but how can we be so compatible if we aren't the same race? I mean, you have noticed that I'm oriental and you're white?"

"Melinda, you have absorbed a lot of European culture in your studies so you understand better than the other Vietnamese what white people are like. I've had an interest in the orient for years and I really want to understand you and your people. There are a lot of qualities in oriental women that appeal to white guys like me. So, we may look different on the surface but, really, we fit well together."

Melinda paused over her soup. "When do I get my second lesson in 'How to Make Love to a White Guy Without Getting Tired?'"

Melinda must have been reading Canadian literature in her spare time. I laughed. "The sooner the better. We don't want you to forget anything between lessons."

"And what might lesson number two be?"

"I think that your education has neglected mathematics. Since you're so interested in oral sex, would you like to try a 69?"

Melinda laughed and said as soon as we did the dishes, she wanted to resume her studies. As we did the dishes, Melinda was actually standing close enough that she was touching me most of the time. It wasn't just my imagination. Melinda was now craving physical closeness with me. We had washed dishes before and Melinda was full of explicit instructions on how to handle her dishes. This time she let me dry without comment. Probably our talk made her think twice before acting too superior in the company of a man. On the other hand, Melinda may been thinking about what was to come.

We walked into the bedroom and Melinda turned her back on me and started to unbutton her blouse.

"Melinda, lovemaking started while we were doing dishes and it continues here. You don't turn your back to your lover and get undressed. We make a game of it and we undress each other."

Melinda turned and let me unbutton her blouse and drop it to the floor. I half expected her to pick it up and hang it in the closet but she started to unbutton my shirt and let it drop to the ground. Melinda put her arms around me and put her head on my chest and looked up at me.

"Is this lesson going well?" 

"You're a fast learner. Now I get to take something off you."

I unhitched Melinda's brassiere with one hand. That's one of my few athletic skills but I'm good at it. I allowed the brassiere to fall off her arms to the ground. I pressed Melinda to me, her firm small breasts pushing into my chest. We stayed like that for a while and then I took the initiative again and started to unzip Melinda's jeans. This was something I regretted doing because Melinda's bum was made for jeans. I struggled a bit to get them down but it was worth it to see my lover clad only in bikini panties. Melinda couldn't wait to take off my jeans and briefs. I was happy she rushed because I was getting the Mother of All Erections and my briefs were getting unconfortably tight. Melinda just kneeled and stared at my extended dick for a moment before I made her stand. I pulled down her panties and we stood naked together. I turned to the mirror in her bedroom and we both admired our first look at each other naked together.

Melinda then pulled me towards the bed. "Lets do 69 now. Let's get into the math of love"

"Melinda, 69 is just part of the whole works. There are other lessons before we get to 69."

We got on the bed and we started kissing. I said: "Your kissing is very good but you need to know where a man likes to be touched." I then guided her hands over the spots I liked to be touched.

"I never knew it would be so good to touch a man. What have I been missing? Why didn't my boyfriend teach me?"

"Not many men understand intellectual women."

I started to gently massage Melinda's tits and she just lay back. I told her: "Don't stop touching me."

"It's hard to concentrate when you're driving me crazy. What do you want?"

I guided her hand to my balls and showed her how to massage them without hurting. I then guided her hand up the shaft of the pecker, showing her how to make it stiffer by not touching the tip. Then I said: "Lesson number 69 begins."

I turned around and faced Melinda's tight little beaver. "Melinda Take my pecker and kiss the tip. Then lick it."

Melinda did as she was told. "It tastes salty. It's nice. But it's so big"

"Now take the dick into your mouth When it's inside, run your tongue around the side but not on the top."

Now it was my turn to work. I parted Melinda's brown legs and opened her outer lips. I am not a great fan of 69. You need to bring the tongue backwards between a woman's inner lips. I have always felt this wasn't as natural as bringing the tongue up a woman's pussy. That is, if anything is natural abut oral sex. The other problem is to concentrate while the dick is busy in the woman's mouth. Most women don't know how to treat a dick so that usually takes care of the concentration problem. Melinda was a natural. I had told her how to be gentle with her hands and she was using that lesson with her mouth.

The advantage of 69 is that the woman can't talk. A dick in the mouth can solve the problem of the worst compulsive talker. Another plus for 69 is that my beard rests between the woman's inner thighs and the tickling just drives them crazy. Melinda was no exception. My tongue slowly gliding up towards her clitoris and the fur tickling her legs caused her to spit out my dick as Melinda shuddered and screamed in orgasm. That was just as well because Melinda was playing my dick so well that I was afraid I would be giving the Blow Job lesson. When Melinda stopped, I let go of her, placed her on her back, pulled up her legs and got into position.

"You will feel me better with your legs up this way." I said, putting the head of my dick into that firm, tight slit. I moved it up and down to lubricate things although that was hardly necessary with the job Melinda had done on it. I needed Melinda to relax and that did the trick. I slid the head of the dick in a little and felt that she was still tight from the orgasm. This was my signal to slow down and play around the opening. Melinda loosened up and I slowly slipped the dick in, pulling back every so often. This usually brought a request from my oriental lover for more. I obliged. As I passed Melinda's cervix, she had another orgasm and tightened up around my dick. She just enjoyed herself and didn't buck up and down like Mrs. Nguyen.

Finally, my dick was completely in. Melinda couldn't believe that I had it all in and had to look between her legs. I pulled her legs up and grabbed under her knees. "Now you get the works, my darling." I said. I started to stroke in and out slowly and Melinda gasped on every in stroke. I picked up the tempo and Melinda started screaming incoherently. Finally, she became so tight that I inevitably came myself, both of us screaming our heads off. Why Melinda wasn't evicted for the noise, I will never know.

This time, Melinda was so exhausted that she just let the juices dribble all over. I didn't bother reminding her that there was a mess. It was so good just to relax and enjoy my naked oriental lover in my arms. It was so relaxing that I drifted off to sleep, thinking of what I would be teaching her next.

To Be Continued...



Mellow Yellow Ch. 06



We entered my apartment after a matinée at the theater. Melinda had been my lover for a month and we were already discussing whether we should move in together. Despite our obvious differences, after all I was male and she was female, we were compatible in so many ways. Yes, the sex was good but everyday life was even better. After all, we were both intellectuals, or nerds if you prefer. It’s hard to tell what comes first, discovering that you want that person’s company all the time or discovering that you are highly compatible sexually with that person.

I was cooking supper that night. Melinda, like most Vietnamese, was curious about European style cooking. They might eat their own food at home on a steady basis but they sincerely enjoyed a meal at a European restaurant, the same way white people enjoy a Chinese meal on occasion. I had checked with Ted and he assured me that Hanna could enjoy sausage and sauerkraut as if she came from the middle of Europe. 

I was making lasagna that evening, a favourite of Melinda’s. After all, the Italians stole pasta from the Chinese, thanks to Marco Polo. Melinda wasn’t fond of cheese but she would eat mozzarella when melted on pasta. Let me correct that. Melinda hated cheese. I allowed Melinda to be a little fussy about food at my place because I had some of the same food quirks eating at her place. I drew the line at some of Melinda’s favourites, like birdie’s feet or tiny fish complete with head, tail and all guts in between. Actually, the fish weren’t bad with all the black pepper they were cooked with, until I took a close look at what it was I was downing with my beer.

Like most oriental women, Melinda was a cheap date when it came to drinks. She didn’t like liquor or beer and would only drink white wine. Even then, she only had one glass with the meal. This suited my budget. Anyway, I didn’t get invited to wine and cheese parties in my profession so this wasn’t any imposition.

We sat down to eat and Melinda discussed the play, lingering over any sexual symbolism that she had discovered. When she finally ran out of dirty parts in the play, she asked: “Well, what are we going to do tonight?”

“Well, I thought you could help me with the dishes.”

“No silly, what are you going to teach me tonight? I’ve been excited about screwing you ever since you picked me up.”

“Well, I think you have oral sex down pat. Let’s try some new positions. What do you want to try first, doggie or woman on top?”

“I want to be on top. Hanna tells me that we Vietnamese women have a talent on top because we’re used to squatting.”

“Melinda, the woman on top position is supposed to put the woman in charge so she gets to play the dick the way she wants it. It means that you need to be very aware of your own body. I think Hanna is right and it could be very comfortable for you.”

“It sounds great. Is there any disadvantage to it?”

“Because it puts the woman in control, my experience has been that only ball-busting women really like to be on top. That way, they can get satisfied without worrying about the man. We should only try it if you promise that you will remember that you’re having sex with another person. Promise me you won’t become a ball-buster.”

Melinda readily agreed to that small condition. She seemed excited about learning something new as we talked over the dishes. She couldn’t talk about anything else than how we were going to have love that night. That is the mark of the true intellectual. Most people think that the intellectual’s thoughts are so sublime that he/she has no interest in sex. It just isn’t so. Once their interest in sex is aroused, the intellectual will show as much curiosity and creativity as with any other subject. I was going to benefit from Melinda’s intellect tonight.

We went to the bedroom and Melinda suddenly ordered me to take my clothes off. I asked why?

“Well, if I’m supposed to be in charge, I should start taking charge now, shouldn’t I?”

“No, that’s the wrong way to go about getting to this position. The right way is we make love normally and then you just go on top because we both want it that way. Don’t worry. There isn’t anything unnatural about this and it won’t make you into something you’re not. You’re not a ballbuster so don’t act like one.”

Melinda relaxed and we went into what was now a familiar routine, slowly undressing each other. Melinda couldn’t seem to wait and led me over to the bed and pulled me down on it. We made love as slowly as we undressed. Melinda was learning where I like to be touched and she wasn’t shy about letting me know what she liked me to do. We were like old lovers although we still had many things to learn about each other.

I was proceeding downwards on Melinda’s smooth, brown skin when, I put my hand between her legs and parted them enough to get my fingers on her beaver. I parted her lips and gently traced my finger up and down that tight inverted V I was by now familiar with. I had never given Melinda a finger job before but she instinctively knew what to do and opened her legs even wider for better access. Finger jobs have their advantages because it leaves the man’s mouth free for kissing or playing with the woman’s tits. The finger work must be as gentle as a tongue. Most men forget this, which is why women prefer the tongue to the finger. A gentle finger with attention to the tits would drive my white girlfriends bananas, in more ways than one. A yellow woman was no different. Melinda’s tits were perfect for the job. They were firm and small so that I could take half a tit in my mouth without using my free hand. That was reserved for the other tit. Basically, this requires the ability to do three things at the same time. It sounds difficult but it only requires slightly more skill than walking and chewing gum.

Melinda came quickly and forcefully, popping her tit out of my mouth. I took my hand away from her beaver so as to not press too hard. With my now-free hand, I guided her hand to my dick and said:

“Hold it gently, just as gently as you want me to touch you. Now get up and put it in”

Melinda smoothly, in one motion, positioned herself over me, never letting go of the dick. Generations of Vietnamese squatting instead of sitting now worked to the benefit of this white boy. Melinda poised herself just so my dick touched her inner lips. She ran my tip up and down that smooth, wet interior, rubbing the dick just where she wanted to be rubbed. Melinda was in charge and I liked her management style. Melinda came again, and this time added volume to her shuddering motions. Without asking instructions, Melinda lowered herself onto my dick at exactly the speed she wanted. Part way in, my dick passed her cervix, she came again and slumped forward onto my chest. I held my panting oriental beauty as she regained her strength.

Without a word, Melinda then got up again and pushed the rest of my dick all the way in. 

“Oh Paul. I have you all in. My God, you’re going deep tonight.” Melinda was almost frozen still in a squat on top of me. She waited like that for five minutes, letting herself enjoy my dick inside her. Then, she slowly raised herself until I was half out and then slowly lowered herself back on. I started to caress Melinda’s tits while she raised and lowered herself. I moved my hands down to her hips and then started to squeeze and force her down so my dick went in deeper than ever. Too many men don’t get involved with the woman on top, preferring to be “passive-aggressive”. I say, get involved with the woman on top or else she will start taking control of things other than sex.

Melinda picked up speed and tempo, taking her cue from my hands on her hips. Finally, she screamed as if she was in pain. I knew this wasn’t pain but the orgasm she had worked herself up to. Melinda clamped on my dick and there was no hope for me and I came as well. I then wiggled around as best I could, stirring up Melinda’s insides even more.

Finally, Melinda collapsed again and then slowly slid off me, creating the inevitable mess. Melinda was too exhausted to care about the mess and just said “That’s great but it’s so much work.”

“Melinda, it’s so much better when it’s done by an oriental woman. White women either don’t put the work into it or they are just doing it that way because they are control freaks.”

“I’m glad you like how I do things. A woman without much experience needs to be reassured all the time that she is screwing right. But let’s go to sleep now. I’m tired from all the work you made me do.” 

We slept like a pair of spoons that night. Melinda was starting to like the intimacy of sleeping in my arms. I was afraid that she had slept alone for so long that she wouldn’t adapt. Normally, Melinda woke up before me, took a shower and made breakfast. This morning, we woke up at the same time and, instead of running to the shower, Melinda started making love again.

“Paul, I want you to take me doggie style. I had such a horny dream just now of us making love that I have to have you. I need that big white dick of yours.”

Melinda was all over me like a woman possessed. From the shy night student I had originally introduced to oral sex, she was now a woman possessed by lust. Her hands were all over my body caressing every spot but ultimately in search of Mr. Stiffy. He didn’t fail - I was hard and erect long before Melinda reached the object of her lust. Probably my dick responded so well because of such pleasant memories of the previous evening. Of course, I responded with as much enthusiasm as Melinda was displaying and we went much more quickly than usual. When Melinda found Mr. Stiffy, I placed my hand on her beaver. To my surprise, Melinda was very wet, not sticky from the previous evening. I slowly slid my finger up and down that inverted V and Melinda had her first orgasm.

“Now Paul, I want you now. Show me how to do it doggie style.”

“OK, get on your hands and knees with your legs slightly apart.” I then put Melinda at the right angle to slide in my dick. I moved into position and then ran my dick up and down between those tight lips. In this position, they were tighter than ever and I had to resist the temptation to ram my dick in. I also had to resist Melinda’s begging for the dick. Melinda was very tight at any time and just after coming, she would be like a virgin. Ramming my dick in would just hurt her. No, I had to carefully work my dick in for the best effect.

“Paul, please faster, I want you in me faster. Push. Fuck me Paul. Please fuck me faster.”

“Melinda, I’m going as fast as I can but you just don’t realize what a tight little pussy you have.”

Fortunately, Melinda was always well lubricated and this helped my dick ease its way in. As my dick slid over her cervix, I felt that object for the first time on the underside of my dick. This was going where I had never gone before. Melinda suddenly came and tightened on the dick. I pulled back so I wouldn’t go off myself. Fortunately, Melinda had done such a good job on top that my dick was a little less sensitive this morning.

Melinda pleaded not to pull out so I said that she had to slow down. I worked my dick in past her cervix and finally got it all the way in. I grabbed Melinda’s hips and started to push and pull her over my dick. Melinda had slim hips and a smallish bum that made this an ideal position. I could get my entire dick in and I could easily control Melinda’s motion with those sensuous hips. I picked up the tempo still being was careful not to push Melinda so far that her cervix went under the tip of my dick.

My dick had such a working over the previous night that I knew it would take some work for me to come. I picked up the tempo even more so that we were pounding each other back and forth with Melinda’s cute bum hitting my stomach. I had totally abandoned being careful where my dick was. We were pounding so hard that I am sure there would have been slapping noises, bum to stomach, if only we hadn’t both been screaming so loud. Well, even if I got evicted, that would be a good excuse to move in. Fortunately, I finally came because Melinda was screaming that I was starting to hurt her and to stop. We both collapsed into the spoon position.

Melinda finally broke the silence. “Paul, we must move in together. I don’t want to wait for the weekends to get together. What we have together is too good. I want you all the time for sex, for conversation, just to share everything. Everything is so good with you.”

I agreed and we did move in together. I look at that moment as the point when we were really married, never mind the ceremony that eventually followed. That was the point when we really knew that we were right for each other. Except for one time that I thought Melinda would leave, we have stayed just as we were that moment.

To Be Continued...



Mellow Yellow Ch. 07



Ch. 7: Haunted by the Ghost of Mrs. Nguyen

The trip from the east was finally over. The conference I had been attending had its high points and I had made a few valuable contacts but I was happy to be getting home. As I made the long drive from the airport to our new house in the suburbs, I realized how much I had missed Melinda on this trip. We had been together three years now, the three most satisfying years of our lives. Melinda had finished her nursing studies and was working at a hospital full-time. 

It was the same hospital where Hanna worked. We kept in touch with old friends that way. I was also working full time at a software developer, producing user manuals in plain English, not nerdese. We were successes in the work world but, more importantly, we were a success as a couple. Right from the beginning, we knew we shared many of the same interests. In fact, we really didn’t have too many outside interests or spent much time with other people. Probably being an interracial couple meant that we wouldn’t have too many friends to begin with. An outsider would say that Melinda and I were too wrapped up in each other. Well, we liked it that way. We were friends and lovers all at the same time.

As I was driving, I mused about why we fit so well together even though our backgrounds, culture and race were different. Perhaps it was because we were different, we could supply each other things the other did not have. I could give Melinda the individualism and courage to stand up for herself that she lacked. Melinda gave me a sense of community and family and the wisdom to be humble when required. We were compatible by filling in each other’s missing pieces so that the couple was perfect even if the individuals were imperfect. 

This providing each other what was needed extended to our sex life. Melinda was less experienced than me and, well, I had a few women in my life. Surprisingly, Melinda was the more aggressive and adventurous of the two of us. I think I was the more passionate and caring one. Yes, your image of the Asian woman/European man relationship is probably the other way around. In our case, your image is wrong but it worked for us.

After being away a week from Melinda, I was missing her very much. I was getting excited, just thinking about caressing her silky smooth skin and muff diving that tight firm V in her beaver. I wanted to hear her pleading for my dick as I hadn’t heard it for over a week. That wasn’t the way it worked out that night. As I walked into our new house, expecting to be greeted with kisses and a Vietnamese banquet, Melinda instead treated me to some hot tongue and cold shoulder.

“You bastard, you dirty bastard, you filthy bastard, you stinking bastard.”

Quite obviously, I was a bastard; the only question seemed to be what kind. I sensed that I should find out how I got to be a bastard. “Melinda, it would help if you would let me take off my coat and sit down so we can talk.”

“You bastard, you lying bastard, you cheating bastard, you fucking bastard.”

This wasn’t getting anywhere, so I hung up my coat, parked the suitcase out of the way and made some tea. I was hoping that Melinda would calm down a bit if I showed a bit of caring. Frankly, I had never seen Melinda angry before so this was a bit frightening as well as perplexing. It would take all my skill to get out of this one, whatever it was. I put the tea down on the living room table and settled in the other chair, facing my now hostile wife.

“Melinda, I might agree with you that I’m a bastard if I only knew what it is that put me in the doghouse.”

“You said I was the first oriental woman you ever had and now I find out you were screwing Mrs. Nguyen. How could you ever stick your dick in that old douche bag? Were you that desperate?”

I was floored. I was sure that nobody ever found out about that short affair. Nobody ever even mentioned Mrs. Nguyen after her sudden departure. I had to find out more.

“Yes, it’s true I had an affair with Mrs. Nguyen and I didn’t tell you the truth about you being my first oriental woman. Who told you about it? I need to know how you found out so I can correct any embellishment”

“You told me yourself, you bastard son-of-a-prick, so it’s not embellished!”

“Melinda, I’m more puzzled than ever. I just don’t recall the conversation or maybe I was talking in my sleep. Let me try this way. What happened while I was away? Tell me. We have to get it out and discuss it.”

Melinda seemed to calm down a little and speak more slowly. “Paul, while you were away, I was so lonely without you. I really missed having you around in the evenings just to talk or watch TV. But what I missed the most was that big white dick of yours in bed with me. Our bed was so cold and lonely without you beside me. I wanted to hear your thoughts and I wanted you to make love to me. Then, in the middle of the week, I realized that I could have you and I could imagine you making love to me if only I could read your erotica. I remembered when I read your stories that you wrote about Hanna, how horny that made me. I thought that if I could read more of what you wrote, it would be second best to having you.”

“Melinda, why didn’t you ask to read my erotica before now?”

“I always had the real thing so why take second best? It was different while you were away. I wanted to have you, even if it was only in print. I went to your den and started to look through your computer and I found where you keep all your erotic stories. I read all Hanna’s stories because I knew they were real. Then I read some of your fantasies and I loved those even more because you put yourself in them. 

I was even pleading for your forgiveness because I was playing with my beaver while I was reading and I was coming without you. I really thought I was being unfaithful by getting so excited by your characters and playing with myself. Then I read your story about Mrs. Nguyen and I knew you weren’t making that up. That sleazy encounter was real and I knew it. Paul, I cried because you did such a thing with that woman. I cried because I remembered when we first made love that I was supposed to be your first Vietnamese lover. I’ve even decided that I’m going to leave you, the lie is so awful and my loss of face is so great.”

“Melinda, don’t take this as playing with words but I didn’t lie to you that you were my first Vietnamese lover. What I did with Mrs. Nguyen wasn’t love. I used her and she used me. An equal transaction. Love never came into it. Didn’t you read that into it?”

Melinda started to cry a little. “Yes, I felt that but that’s what made me so angry and disappointed in you, Paul. You’re such a thoughtful lover. I can’t imagine you ever hopping into bed with a woman you didn’t care about. And especially that woman.”

“Melinda, try to help me understand your feelings. Why are you especially angry because it was Mrs. Nguyen? Wouldn’t you feel worse if I was really in love with a young Vietnamese woman before I met you?”

“That woman used to despise me because I was half Chinese and had no husband. What reason did she have to look down on me? Is it better to pure Vietnamese when you’re a hooker? Was her husband anything to be proud of? He was just a mule for the drug gangs. In fact, I was so angry when I first read about you and Mrs. Nguyen that I wish Duc had found out about you two and cut your nuts off with that knife he always carried. You don’t even want to know what I planned for that woman.”

“Melinda, I see why you are angry with me and I won’t try to justify what I’ve done or force you to make up with me before you’re ready. Just don’t leave me before we’ve had a chance to talk about this. For the rest of tonight, I think we should leave each other alone and talk some more tomorrow. I’ll think about what you’ve said and I want to leave you with some thoughts to go over. First of all, I have been faithful to you since the first time we made love. I have desired no other woman other than you. Secondly, have I ever done anything to make you feel unloved since that day?”

Melinda stopped crying and got up and slowly went to the bedroom. I found some leftovers in the refrigerator and had a cold supper. I was so miserable that I didn’t feel like warming the leftovers up. Melinda never showed anger before so I knew I was in deep dung in some uncharted territory. Melinda was so good-natured that I often wondered if Vietnamese women ever got angry. I didn’t need to speculate on that one any more. They could be as angry as any white woman. This would take some time to repair.

I thought about Mrs. Nguyen for the first time in years. The woman wasn’t important to me. In fact, I drew a blank when I tried to put some personality to Mrs. Nguyen. She wasn’t important except that she had created a desire to meet a real Vietnamese woman. Without Mrs. Nguyen, I might not be with Melinda now. Another thing I thought about was how our affair had stopped Mrs. Nguyen from bothering my friend, Hanna. So there was more good that came out of our affair. Melinda was the woman for me. So why hadn’t I told Melinda before now? I told Melinda everything about my white girl friends before we met and how none of them were her equal. How much more inferior was an old hooker to my Melinda? I concluded that it was partly shame at associating with Mrs. Nguyen and partly fear of what might happen if Duc ever found out.

I took my suitcase to the guestroom and found the pajamas. I passed by our bedroom and noticed that Melinda hadn’t shut the door. I peeked in and she was sound asleep on her side of the bed. This looked hopeful but I decided that I wasn’t going to push Melinda by climbing in bed with her tonight. Things would take time. I had a pee, brushed my teeth and crawled into the guest bed. As I fell asleep, I felt calmer and more peaceful than I had all evening.

I woke up to the smell of French coffee by my bed and the sounds of Melinda taking a shower. When she had finished and was getting dressed, I took my shower. As I was getting dressed, the sounds and smells of my favourite Canadian farm breakfast entered the guest bedroom. I could distinguish each smell separately. Eggs, sausages, fried onions and tomatoes, hash browns. Melinda hadn’t uttered a word to me but what she was doing said “I still love you.” As I went to the kitchen, I knew I would still have to be careful.

“’Morning Melinda. The coffee was great and the breakfast looks even better.”

“Paul, I want to apologize for some of the things I said last night. You’re right that you have been a good husband to me. I don’t want to leave you and I don’t want to lose you.”

“And I want to apologize for not telling you about Mrs. Nguyen. It was all over by the time I met you, just like the other women in my life. I guess I just wanted to avoid the very scene we went through last night. Somehow I realized it would get you upset. As for you losing face, I am even more ashamed than you are that I ever went to Mrs. Nguyen.”

Melinda set the food on the table and we began eating. I let her break the silence.

“I accept your apology, Paul. You’re right that it would upset me and do you know why? It’s not because you lied about me being first. It’s not because I have reason to hate that woman. It’s because she has what I have and what you most desire in a woman. You’re hooked on yellow women.”

“Melinda, it’s true that I’m hung up on oriental women but you did it, not Mrs. Nguyen. You’re the one who is so close to me that we think alike now. You’re the one who supports me in my work and everything else I do. You’re the one who is my best friend. You’re the only woman in the world I want beside me at night. Don’t you realize that one reason I never mentioned Mrs. Nguyen is that you made me forget all about her.”

“Paul, that’s sweet of you and I think that I’ll get over this, even the shame I feel. But why haven’t you ever asked me to do the bouncing motions you described Mrs. Nguyen as doing?”

“Because I didn’t want you to remind me of an old hooker.”

“But Paul, I want to do it for you just once. I want to do everything for you that a woman can do for a man.”

I agreed and we turned to other subjects. Melinda told me about what had happened while I was away and I told her about the conference. When we had finished eating, Melinda said she would clean up the kitchen but I should unpack my suitcase. I had unpacked all my dirty clothes and I was going to put the suitcase in the basement when Melinda came in the bedroom.

“Where do you think you’re going? You promised me a lesson in how to be a hooker.”

“A promise is a promise but this one is conditional. You promise that you’ll never use this as a money maker?”

“Promise. Now give me the lesson.”

I got on the guest bed and lay on my back. As best I could, I showed the various moves that Mrs. Nguyen was capable of when I had my dick in her. Melinda then told me to stay there and did a semi-striptease in front of me. I couldn’t believe how graceful and sensual my wife could be. Melinda slowly removed her blouse and skirt. She was especially careful to roll her nylons down each leg and then do a small dance in bra and panties while using the nylons like a veil. Melinda stopped, climbed on the bed and slowly unbuttoned my shirt and pulled off my pants.

“Am I playing the old hooker well?”

“Melinda, first of all, you’re not old. Secondly, I don’t think a hooker gives this much service for the money.”

“Maybe not, but I’m acting out my fantasies. I don’t write them out like you do. It just means we are two different people.” 

At this moment, I could just think “Vive la difference.” I wasn’t about to have my wife act as clinical in sex as a hooker, so I pulled her to me, kissed her deeply and started caressing the body I had been dreaming of all week. Melinda was hotter and more passionate than when I had left a week before. Obviously, she had been desiring me and that was why she went to my computer. Every movement of my hand over her smooth skin brought a sigh of joy. When I undid her brassiere, Melinda started breathing noticeably faster. Caressing her tits and then kissing her brown nipples, her sighs went up in pitch and volume. I put my hand on her beaver. Melinda’s hand was on my bulging underwear.

“Oh Paul, Oh Paul. I’ve been waiting for that white dick of yours between my legs. You’re the man for me and I don’t want ever to share this with another woman.”

Melinda had made the transition from hooker to lover nicely. I started to put my hand under her panties, over her beaver and was surprised that Melinda was wetter than usual today. The emotional hangover from her anger was now working to my benefit. I parted her pussy lips and held them open by my index and ring finger. Gently, I ran the middle finger between that lovely inverted V, on the side of her clitoris, not on the top just yet. I could tell Melinda was about to orgasm as she was becoming tense and holding my pecker a little too tightly. Somehow, she had gotten my briefs off without my noticing. I gently slid the middle finger over the top of the V.

“EEEEEEEEEEEE! OH PAUL, IT’S WONDERFUL. Don’t stop!” Finally, “Rip my panties off. I want that white dick in my yellow pussy NOW!” I didn’t want to destroy expensive lingerie, so I made Melinda wait as I took off her panties as slowly as she had taken off her nylons. I then slipped my dick in more quickly than I usually do but slow enough so that Melinda would feel the whole length go in. When it was finally in all the way, I started a slow stroke. On the instroke, Melinda suddenly erupted in the same movements I had demonstrated and attributed to Mrs. Nguyen.

“I’M COMING. OH GOD, I’M COMING. IT’S GOOD. YOUR DICK IS GOOD.”

Melinda had boundless energy and I finally had to say: “You have to stop, Melinda. I think you’re about to break off my dick with what you’re doing.”

Melinda stopped and asked breathlessly: “Wasn’t I better than an old hooker?”

“You are so good that I really want to keep it a secret or all the guys will be after you with their cash.” I climbed off Melinda and lay exhausted on the bed. My dick was so sore from the treatment it had gotten that I was afraid I would never get it up again.

“When I found out about Mrs. Nguyen I was angry but I also wanted to show you that I was better than her.”

“Haven’t I been telling you all along how great you are? Now, there is one other secret that we have to keep, besides how good you are. That is that I had an affair with Mrs. Nguyen. Nguyen Duc still has friends in town and you want to keep my nuts in place, don’t you? Another reason, my dear Melinda, is that as long as nobody else ever knows about me and Mrs. Nguyen, you will never lose that pretty face of yours”

“Right as usual. But there’s another secret that we need to keep for a while. I was so angry that I was seriously thinking of leaving you. I stopped my pills while you were gone. I think we may have started our family today.”

And Melinda was right, as usual.

To Be Continued...



Mellow Yellow Ch. 08



Mellow Yellow Chapter 8: The Honeymoon (Canada & the U.S.)

(Author’s note: I had assumed that 7 would be the last of the Mellow Yellow series, seeing Melinda and Paul married, having their first fight and then planning a family. I have received such good response to these stories that I will fill in some of the gaps in the sexual adventures of Melinda and Paul)

* * * * *

The wedding reception was over and we piled into my car. I had kept it at a parkade for the past few days. We were heading to the Coast and the last thing I wanted was “Just Married” soaped all over my wheels. Actually, it might have been a trick getting soap to stick to rust, but the glass on my car was still in good shape. We were going to have our honeymoon in Hong Kong, something that I thought would be impossible for people in our financial state. However, my company had chartered an airplane that summer for its employees to visit its Hong Kong suppliers. Once we had made the obligatory visits to the suppliers, we were on our own. The only problem was that the flight would leave from Seattle and we would need to drive there. I decided that, in our financial condition, we would take advantage of the charter and honeymoon in Hong Kong.

By the evening, we arrived in the Rockies just in time to see a red sun set between two high mountain peaks. I said: “If we were making a movie of our honeymoon, that scene would symbolize my red, hot cock heading straight into that sharp V between your legs.”

Melinda groaned. “Why did I ever teach you how to analyze movies? I’ve created a dirty old movie director out of you.”

I reserved a room at a famous resort for our first night married. Since we had been living together before we were married, I would be sensitive to what would be different in our sex life now that we were married. Guess what? Nothing that I could put my finger on. Melinda was as caring, passionate with me as before. Her tits were as firm and inviting as ever. She was just as wet when I slid in my dick, without any need for oral sex. Melinda made as much noise as when we were single and her orgasms arrived with a great shuddering and squeezing of my dick. The sex seemed to be no different than when we were single. The only change seemed to be that Melinda was more relaxed and content as I held her after sex. I felt more content and relaxed. That was the change I had been looking for. We no longer had to worry about the other one leaving for something trivial. We were a couple now and forever.

We spent a day hiking in the mountains, our first full day as man and wife. The Canadian Park system has a lot of easy trails for soft city people like us. As we walked, I realized that Melinda had never seen the Rockies before. I don’t know why I hadn’t taken her while we were courting. I can only say that I must have been so obsessed with Melinda as the city sophisticate that I didn’t realize she might be interested in nature as well. We came to a high point on the trail where we were looking across a valley towards the opposite mountains.

“Paul, this is so beautiful. I’m so happy that you brought me here. In Vietnam, we could never travel in the countryside and enjoy nature like this. The civil war made it too dangerous. You Canadians don’t realize how lucky you are that you have this beauty and you can visit it in peace.”

I didn’t argue with my wife’s preaching about how lucky I was. The moment was right and I took Melinda in my arms gave her a long, passionate kiss. We went back to the hotel and made slow, passionate and, now, patriotic love.

We stayed a day in Vancouver at a suburban motel that satisfied our budget. Well, for newlyweds, the most important luxury is the bed and I made sure we had a king size and made the best use of it. We toured Granville Island and, of course, the oriental section of the city known as Chinatown. It was about 10 times the size of the Chinatown in our city. Melinda was fascinated by the number of oriental/white couples in Vancouver: “Nobody seems to care in Vancouver what colour you are when you’re looking for a mate.”

“It wasn’t always this way. The original Chinese came here as railroad workers and Canada charged them a head tax to encourage them to go back to China. Fortunately, they stayed and made Canada a better country. Canadians still haven’t reconciled with our shabby treatment of Chinese in the past, though.”

“Paul, yesterday I was so enthusiastic about what a great country this was and now you tell me that you don’t have a clean past.”

I was quiet but Melinda had to know the truth. Melinda seemed sad the rest of the day but at least she didn’t blame me for the past. If I had any doubts about that, she put them to rest that evening on the king size bed.

The next day we headed to Seattle and started our trip south early. We drove past Canadian Customs and joined one of several lines of cars across the border. Eventually, we reached U.S. Customs and Immigration. A gun-toting’ figure leaned towards the window and drawled “Where you headed?” “Seattle to catch a plane.” I replied. Jim Bob of the Border wasn’t finished with us. 

“Any proof of Canadian Citizenship?”

“I’ll have to get it out of the trunk. All our travel documents and tickets are in the luggage.”

“Not you asshole. I meant her!”

I was just about to put Jim Bob in his place with one of my famous cutting remarks when Melinda touched my arm and said: “I’ve got my citizenship card here in my purse.”

When Melinda showed her card, Jim Bob seemed disappointed that he hadn’t caught a wetback this time fruit and waved us through. As I drove away, I could see in the mirror that Jim Bob was giving the next car with Canadian plates the same “Any wetbacks or citrus fruit?” routine.

“Melinda, why did you stop me from telling him off? That man was a racist and he insulted my wife in front of me. Why would Jim Bob pick on you instead of me if it’s not the fact that I’m white and you’re not?”

“Paul, that was an everyday thing for someone like me. You’re just starting to discover what it’s like to be a visible minority in a white society.”

“But why put up with that shit? I could have changed his attitude on the spot if you hadn’t stopped me.

“My dear White Knight, you’ve been hanging with Vietnamese and Chinese for years and you still don’t know what we are like? Of course, I’m insulted and I’m never going to forget what just happened. We Orientals are like that. We look like we accept any kind of insult with a smile but we hurt inside the same way you do. The difference between yellow and white is that we will never fight right away when we’re wronged but we eventually pay back the insult.”

“And how will you pay back Jim Bob for what he just did to you?”

“I don’t need to do anything at all. Some day he’ll hassle the wrong Vietnamese guys and end up with his throat cut and his gun stuck up his ass. In the meantime, every time Jim Bob goes to a Chinese restaurant and starts to act in the same contemptuous way, the cook will piss in his wonton soup and the waitress will spit on his chow mein. Someone like that can’t stop being a racist. We know who our friends are and we deal with our enemies quietly and not necessarily immediately.”

“Melinda, I hereby resolve to tip better from now on when we go to a Chinese restaurant. That image of Jim Bob with his gun shoved up his bum makes me feel a lot better. Now, could you please hand me one of those Sunkist that we just smuggled past our racist border guard?”

“OK, if you promise me one thing. When we get to Hong Kong and you get abused by Chinese, promise me that you’ll handle it the same way I did here? Promise me you won’t make any scenes?”

“Melinda, my love, I promise I’ll never embarrass you.”

The trip to Seattle was uneventful. A contact I had at head office had offered to let me park at his place and stay overnight before the flight. Al, my contact, and Nancy, both worked for my company and Al had said that they met there. Since they worked together, they were both home when we arrived. I had only talked to Al over the telephone but meeting them in person was like visiting Ward and June Cleaver. They dressed like the all-American couple and their home was definitely “Good Housekeeping”. Nothing was out of place or in any kind of taste that might be considered bohemian. We visited together for a while and all the time Al and Nancy called each other “Honey”. Nothing seemed out of place in their marriage either. Ward and June definitely Mr. and Mrs. Straight, it appeared. 

Al demonstrated his barbecuing skills cooking supper and Nancy made all the salads. After supper, Nancy announced in her best June Cleaver manner that the “gals” would clear the dishes and clean the kitchen. Al continued his Ward Cleaver routine and said that “the guys” would have a beer in the back yard. Al had more to show me than his petunias.

“Paul, I’ve got to tell you something. Remember those regional sales meetings we have every month? Something happened at the San Francisco meeting three months ago.”

“I hope you’re not going to tell me that I won’t have a job when I get back.”

“No, it’s personal and about me. I met someone at one of those meetings and we’re having an affair. Remember Lisa Fong, the San Francisco marketing manager? We had to work late on the new software launch after the meeting, so we spent a lot of time together. When we finished, it was dinnertime and I asked Lisa if she would tell me the name of a nice Chinese restaurant. She said that she could do better than that and she would take me to the restaurant and order for the two of us, if I would put the meal on my department’s budget. At dinner, Lisa changed from the superefficient, cold career woman and became a real person. Our talk became increasingly personal and we really connected. I was falling in love with a Chinese lady, me a typical white suburban husband. I assume that Lisa felt the same about me because she accepted going back to my hotel room with me.”

“Why are you telling me this, Al. The company frowns on affairs in the office.”

“I have to tell you because your wife is Chinese and I’m hoping you’ll understand. Lisa is the best sex I ever had. Can you tell me if they’re all that good? Lisa seemed to have some kind of secret oriental knowledge as to what can turn on a man. She knew where to touch and so gentle compared to a white woman. When she took my cock in her soft little hands, I thought I was going to shoot off then and there. Lisa complimented me on my dick size and you know how a guy wants to hear that. Nancy is just a flatbacker when it comes to sex. She would never touch my dick or tell me whet it is she wants me to do for her. Whenever I think of sex with Nancy, I want to fall asleep, it’s so boring. Whenever I think of Lisa’s silky smooth brown skin against mine, I get a stiff one again. Just playing with each other’s body was so great I wanted it to go on forever.”

“Finally, I put Lisa on her back and had my first piece of oriental ass. Lisa was tight but wet as I slowly slipped my dick in. She reacted just the way a man wants his woman to react with lots of noise and encouragement. I didn’t even get a chance to stroke in and out. She came so quickly and violently and clamped so tightly on my dick that I didn’t have any choice but to come as well. Fortunately, we resumed making love when we came down from our high. The next time I got my dick in, I did some first rate stroking. I fucked Lisa like she was the first woman I ever had, which was true in a way. I’m over forty but Lisa is such an exciting woman that I fucked her three times that first night. Man, do I ever look forward to our regional meetings. I make sure that there is always some unresolved problem that only Lisa, overtime and I can solve.”

I stifled the urge to correct Al, that Melinda was only half Chinese, since I didn’t think it would stop Al from telling me about his Lisa. He kept repeating “Are they all that good?” I was sure Al wanted me to tell him how Melinda was in bed and I was delaying by telling him about how we met and how long it took me to finally get Melinda to bed. I made the point that American Chinese women seemed to be a lot more aggressive than Melinda. I couldn’t figure out why it was taking so long to clean up the kitchen. Finally, the “gals” came out to the back yard and that cut Al’s questions short.

We made some more small talk about differences in living in Canada and the U.S. and then we went to bed. The bed was slightly creaky but we managed to make love quietly, not our usual style. Melinda was different tonight, more attentive to me than ever as if she wanted to be sure that she was the only one I loved. I put the difference down to being just married plus the noise restrictions. I also couldn’t tell her Al’s story in case our hosts heard. I wondered if Melinda could see any differences in me tonight and what she would attribute it to.

We took a taxi to the airport as Nancy and Al left for work and we left the car parked at their house. I was fine with taking a taxi because all I needed was Al or Nancy going “wink, wink, nudge, nudge” all the way to the airport.

The airplane was well into the air and leveling out. We had made it thanks to some superb piloting that I had done from my seat. I relaxed and let the blood flow back into my knuckles. Melinda had that “we have to talk” look in her face that was dangerous to ignore. I knew that it was best to let her open the subject.

“Paul, do you remember when Nancy and I were taking care of the dishes while you and Al were having a beer in the yard? Nancy told me the most remarkable story and I just have to find out what you think now that we’re alone.”

“Go ahead and I’ll tell you what I think.”

“Nancy asked me if I could keep a secret, which I can, and then she started telling me about this Chinese software engineer, Stephen Chang, at your company. Nancy says that she started having an affair with him three months ago when Al was away on business. Nancy says that he looks and dresses like a typical computer geek and you wouldn’t give him a second look if you passed him on the street. However, she says that he’s an interesting person to talk to and she asked him for a date when Al was away on business. Nancy claims that she helped Stephen get in touch with his romantic side on that date. She says that Stephen was absolutely hopeless when it came to romancing a woman and getting her into bed. Stephen said he had never even talked to a white woman before, never mind make love to one, and he was extremely shy. Nancy had to take the initiative and it was almost hilarious how she had to convince him to talk and act romantically. I guess it worked because they ended up in the sack on their first date.”


“Since then, they’ve been seeing each other steady at work and Stephen and Nancy look forward to Al’s business trips. She is so enthusiastic about this guy that she reminded me of the cheerleader in ‘Revenge of the Nerds’ when she discovers that she has just made love to a nerd. Nancy says that, minus his geek clothes, Stephen is a thoughtful and energetic lover. She claims that Al is just ‘wham, bam, thankya ma’am’ when it comes to sex but Stephen takes his time to get a woman turned on.”

“Nancy went on to say that it’s not true that all oriental men have tiny dicks. She says Stephen is well hung and his dick isn’t circumcised. All the white guys she had were circumcised and she thinks that makes Stephen even more exciting. She says that Stephen turns her on so well that she can come when there’s only an inch of that unpeeled yellow banana in her. Nancy says that has even more intense orgasms in waves as Stephen goes deeper and deeper and that Al never did that to her. Stephen also can last longer than Al. He wears her out, she claims. Nancy says that Stephen was her first interracial sexual experience and it is the best she has ever had. She loves how smooth his body is and how she can caress his body all night. She likes how he doesn’t have much body hair and not much bush around his dick. She says she is going to trim her bush so she can watch every inch of Stephen’s yellow dick as it slides in and out between her legs.”

“Then Nancy asked me if it’s true that oriental women had less bush than white women, how much bush I had and if I was built any differently than her. I was absolutely stunned by these questions. Did she want me to drop my nickers right there and show her what I’ve got? I said that I didn’t know what other women, white or yellow were like because I never went places where women are naked, like a locker room or shower. Then Nancy wanted to know if I had ever screwed an oriental guy and what his dick was like compared to yours. I didn’t want to discuss my sexual history with a stranger so I just said that I had a boyfriend in Vietnam but I wasn’t experienced enough to talk dicks with her. Honestly, I was getting embarrassed and I was happy that we had cleaned up the kitchen.”

“OK, when you’re giving me your opinion, tell me why she told me all this. I thought sordid affairs were supposed to be discreet. Is it because she wanted to be my friend by showing that she had an interracial relationship? Or did she want to tell me that everything between her and Al was not as it appeared on the surface? And why this fascination with dick size and how much bush oriental women have?”

“Melinda, those are a lot of questions and you may have answered some of them yourself. Before I tell you what I think, I have to tell you what the guys were discussing while you were having this little female chat.” First I made a mental note to reevaluate my opinion of the sexual talents of the geeky Chinese students I had known. Then, I related Al’s story about Lisa to Melinda as best I could, adding that I think he said that he had bedded Lisa after a managers’ meeting three months ago. That would mean they had both had sex with Orientals at the same time. I said that Melinda had saved me from some of the same embarrassing questions by coming out and rescuing me. Melinda listened attentively to everything I said with her “I’m curious” expression.

“You mean to tell me that they both went yellow at the same time? What’s going on here? Why do they tell you and me if they want it kept a secret? Do they think we’re experts on interracial relationships?”

“Actually, neither one of them really wants it kept a secret. Do you remember that Spike Lee movie, ‘Jungle Fever’?”

“Do I ever! I think we had one of our hottest fucks after that movie. I remember how sensual I thought it was when he took her on the drafting table. I had to stop myself from putting my hand in my panties right there in the movie theatre. Remember how, when we got back home, I insisted on foreplay sitting in front of your computer and then I asked you to screw me on the kitchen table and…”

“I always hesitate to interrupt my wife when she’s talking sex but your line of discussion wasn’t the point I was trying to make. What I wanted you to remember from ‘Jungle Fever’ was that neither one of them could wait more than a few days before they had to brag to their friends that they had sex with someone of a different race. Then, within a week, families, acquaintances, even the cop on the beat knew. I say that it’s very unlikely that we are the first people they told, given that it’s been going on for three months.”

Melinda almost turned white. “I hope that you didn’t go tell all your friends that you were making it with me after our first time? I didn’t tell anyone about you for the longest time, not even Hanna the matchmaker.”

“No, I didn’t tell anyone until we moved in and it was fairly obvious by then what was going on between us. I think the lesson from these separate conversations and the way the couple acted in ‘Jungle Fever’ means that Canadians are culturally different from Americans. So that partly answers your question ‘Why did she tell me all that?’ The answer isn’t female bonding or complaining about a rotten marriage. Americans just can’t keep something personal a secret.”




Mellow Yellow Ch. 08



“And while I’m lecturing you on Americans, let me return to your question on dicks and bush. Americans have an obsession with measurements and statistics. Look at their national game, baseball. Baseball is inherently a boring game and Americans make it the epitome of boredom by keeping all those statistics on insignificant aspects of the game. So, it’s only natural that they take their statistics to bed with them.”

Melinda interrupted my lecture: “And it also means that Americans are different from Vietnamese. Remember that Hanna wanted to tell everyone she had a boyfriend but she couldn’t because Ted was white. Remember how angry she was when her friends started teasing her about Ted’s ‘banana’.” Melinda looked at me sternly: “But we can keep a secret, can’t we?”

“Of course, and we have to. Al can get fired for having an affair with another manager. The same thing with Nancy. Her position is higher in the company than Stephen’s so the company could call it sexual harassment. It’s not up to us to right any wrongs or act like marriage counselors.”

“Paul, one final question. Why are they both having affairs when their life looks so great on the surface and they are both successful?”

“I can’t answer that one for sure. I suspect that they have been married too long and they became bored with each other. Remember how they both claimed that the other one didn’t know how to perform? I suspect that they both found an opportunity to get involved sexually with someone who was both available and different. That’s why they both chose interracial relationships.”

“But we’ll never get bored with each other and go off in search of someone else, will we?”

“I guarantee it, Melinda. You make my life so interesting that I’ll never be bored with you.”



Mellow Yellow Ch. 09



Chapter 9: The Honeymoon (Hong Kong)

The flight was uneventful the rest of the way to Hong Kong. I noticed that Melinda was a little annoyed every time one of the cabin crew addressed her in Chinese.

“I speak Vietnamese, not Chinese and they insist on talking to me in Chinese. That Japanese lady two rows ahead gets the same treatment. She has to talk to them in English because their Chinese is as big a mystery to her as it is to you and me. Haven’t the Chinese realized that not every yellow person on earth speaks Chinese?”

“But you said your mother was Chinese. Didn’t she ever teach you Chinese?”

“My mother was more interested in teaching me how to cook and be a good wife than how to speak Chinese. The only Chinese she taught me was mah-jongg. In any case, my mother’s family came from the Toi Shan and they spoke a dialect that isn’t too useful in the Chinese world. These people from the airline crew speak Cantonese and Mandarin. Even if I had been a good girl and learned my mother’s family’s language, I still wouldn’t be able to understand these people. Besides, I say that Vietnamese is a more sophisticated tongue than Chinese. Vietnamese has six tones and Chinese has only three. So, I am smarter because I speak Vietnamese.”

“I thought you said that, on this part of the trip, it would be my turn to be on the receiving end of discrimination for being white. What I see is you complaining about being abused for speaking Vietnamese.”

Melinda rolled her almond-shaped eyes in her “you’ll never understand” manner and went back to her book. I read for a while and then let my mind wander. My seats was typically economy cramped and I felt stiff, in my legs that is, after a few hours. There was so little privacy that I was happy that I could cuddle with my oriental bride and we could share what little space we had. I assumed that it was pure fiction when an erotic story described fornication in an airplane. I think there was a sex scene on an airplane in “Emmanuelle” but that was in the toilet, not here in the economy zoo. Furthermore, “Emmanuelle” was never filmed on this airplane. The toilet on this aircraft was so cramped that I banged my head on the ceiling when I stood up after a crap. No chance of any bouncy-bouncy in this can.

As we approached Hong Kong, I asked Melinda about the arrangements she had made for our stay in Hong Kong.

“You said that you contacted the sister of a doctor at your hospital. Tell me about her and what can I expect?”

“Her name is Wu Sui, try and say her name right. Oh forget it, Paul. You’ll never get it right. Just use her English name, Susan Wu. Susan and her brother studied in Canada; Susan studied psychiatry and her brother studied medicine. When they graduated, Susan’s brother stayed in Canada but Susan went back to Hong Kong because there is was great shortage of psychiatrists. Don’t smirk. Yes, Orientals go crazy just like white people. She’s single and her brother says Susan’s the nice one in the family”

Our conversation was interrupted by the announcement that we should do up our seatbelts and stow our cabin luggage because we were about to land at Kai Tak airport. We again landed safely due to my white knuckles guiding the pilot from my seat. Immigration and Customs was a breeze thanks to the Canadian passports. I was afraid that we might get detained because the clerk asked Melinda a question in Cantonese and Melinda growled something back in peasant-grade Vietnamese. No problem; the passport clerk grinned and switched to English. In the hall, we spotted Susan holding a sign with our names in English.

While Melinda was telling Susan about her brother and how he was the last time she saw him, I looked over our host. Susan was like most Hong Kong Chinese, a little over 5 feet tall, shorter than Melinda. She wore glasses, obviously a case of the common oriental myopia. Behind her glasses was a pleasant, kind face. Susan was not a raving beauty but there was a sensuality about her face. I decided on the spot that I would let this shrink read my head anytime.

We went to Susan’s apartment by taxi. Susan explained that most middle class in Hong Kong used public transportation because it was so difficult to park a car. In any case, the government discouraged cars by making the driver’s test so difficult that the average person could never pass. Susan had gotten around the test by getting a driver’s license in Canada, which was recognized in Hong Kong.

Susan’s apartment was well furnished but cramped. By arranging the oriental art hangings and the light, it gave the impression that the apartment was larger that it was physically. There seemed to be a peacefulness in the apartment that contrasted with the bustle of the large city outside and the tension I had felt as a result of the imminent Chinese takeover. Susan had created a refuge for herself from the outside world. I started to believe in Feng Shui. Susan gave a sly smile as she said that we would have her double bed and she would sleep on the futon. I wondered why a single woman needed a double bed but I decided not to take that line of thought. We slept exhausted after the long trip.

The next two days were spent fulfilling my business obligations so I didn’t get to see much of Melinda and her new found friend, Susan. A factory is a factory even if it’s located in one of the most dynamic cities in the world. When the obligatory tours were finished, I was looking forward to finally touring Hong Kong with Melinda. I was slightly disappointed when Melinda told me:

“Susan and I want some more girl time together. I hate to let you out on the town alone when we are still newly weds but Susan seems to want to tell me something. Promise me you’ll be good and you won’t make any scenes while you’re alone? We’ll get out together tomorrow, I promise.”

I agreed to behave and went to downtown Kowloon where the clubs are located. I decided that, if I had the night off, I would do something that I couldn’t do if Melinda tagged along. Besides, Nancy had raised a question in my mind, namely what was average for the oriental bush? The two oriental beavers that I was familiar with both had a small bush with straight hair, not curly like my white girlfriends. In the case of Mrs. Nguyen, perhaps she had lost bush hair from overuse of that particular part. I decided that the best way to see a variety of Chinese bush without breaking my promise to Melinda to stay out of trouble was to visit a strip club.

The first club I visited was relatively empty so I asked if it was OK to take a table close to the stage rather than sit at the bar. I ordered a beer and leaned back to watch the show. Between sets, one after another “hostess” came and asked me if I needed any company. I don’t know if it was because the night was slow or if Chinese women are particularly fond of white guys with beards but they seemed genuinely seemed disappointed when I said that I would rather be alone. Just before the third set started, a “hostess” sat herself down beside me without asking.

“I Jade. Number One hostess all Kowloon.”

I realized that it would be more difficult to send away the “Number One hostess all Kowloon”. There was an underlying assumption in her attitude that I was looking for what she was offering. It was somewhat difficult to tell Jade’s age as she was slathered in makeup, producing a surreal quality to her face. I wondered if Jade moonlighted as an actress in the traditional Japanese theater. The previous hostesses who had propositioned me were dressed in leather miniskirts, more or less the modern Hong Kong Hooker. Jade wore a traditional slit skirt and styled her hair like a 1920’s flapper. I had an eerie feeling, as if Jade was some kind of ghost who had stepped out of 1930’s Shanghai. How do you get rid of a ghost? I was sure that Ghostbusters didn’t make house calls this far east.

“Thank you for your offer of company, Jade, but I would just like to watch the dancers alone.”

“You just look, no touch? How you like touch Chinese lady? Maybe you want screw Chinese lady as well? I give you good price everything. Blow job, lay, half and half? Good selection chains, nipple clips, rent cheap. I do everything. One stop shop for sex. Good price. Screw Jade – only one thousand Hong Kong dollar. Five hundred more, you fuck Jade in ass. Jade throw in rubber for free. I have room back of club. You no need find hotel for Jade. How about it? We got deal, sport?”

“Thanks Jade but I’m married. Not only that but I’m married to an oriental woman and she keeps me very happy. Why should I pay you for what I can get at home for free?”

Jade stood up suddenly and started screaming: “You insult Jade. I Number One hostess all Kowloon. I no screw you unless you pay two thousand dollars.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up behind me. It was the bouncer.

“You insult my hostess? You get out my place now.”

The bouncer was muscular and heavyset. He resembled the martial arts instructors that Canada imports to instruct our youth in the fine art of inflicting pain. This guy was not a skinny David Carradine, discussing Shao-Lin philosophy prior to kicking the shit out of you. This guy was also not one of the nerdy Chinese students I had hung out with when I was going to university. This guy looked like he killed for pleasure and he hadn’t killed a white guy for at least half an hour. This guy was menacing and he believed that I had just insulted the “Number One hostess all Kowloon.” I remembered Melinda’s lesson on oriental conflict resolution and decided to be humble.

“I deeply apologize for any insult that Jade might have felt and I wish to accept your offer to leave your fine establishment”

That seemed to take the edge off the bouncer as well as the bartender, who looked as if he wouldn’t mind joining the bouncer and breaking a white leg or two. I chugged my beer, laid down an excessively decent tip and left quietly. On my way down the street, I thought how he would try that routine out on a bunch of sailors who wouldn’t want an over-the-hill Jade at any price. I consoled myself with the image of white sailors trashing the bar, bartender, bouncer and all. I didn’t think that the bouncer or the bartender would ever visit a fast food restaurant exclusively run by white people. Despite that, I conjured up a pleasant image of the counter staff spitting on his hamburger and pissing in the pop for his Happy Meal.

I went to a couple of other clubs, making sure that I sat at the bar and clearly was hostile to the idea of female company. It made it a little harder to conduct my bush study but I did have an answer to Nancy’s question by the time I went back to Susan’s place. Yes, Chinese women have much less bush than white women and it’s straight hair. That answered Nancy’s question. Still, when she showed up in bed with a trimmed bush, wouldn’t Al realize something was up?

Not my problem, I thought as I made my way back to Susan’s apartment. When I arrived, they started to ask all about my evening but they wouldn’t say anything about their evening except that Melinda had given Susan a makeover and they had talked a lot. Nothing that a guy like me would be interested in. I asked Susan to take off her glasses and I complimented Melinda on her work. Susan even modeled Melinda’s more stylish clothes to get the full effect. Even though Melinda’s clothes were too big, the change was astounding. Susan had been transformed from a dowdy professional to a quite attractive woman. I couldn’t get either one to tell me what all the girl talk was about.

I told Susan and Melinda about my evening, my encounter with the bouncer and how I had handled the situation. They both agreed that I had been very yellow about it and that I might be very dead if I had handled the situation differently. Finally, we retired and I asked Melinda about what they had talked about while I was doing my “research”. Melinda distracted me by opening my pajama tops and starting to…..

The next day, Susan had left for work and I asked Melinda what the girl talk was all about. Melinda told the following story over breakfast. noodles, a passage on the Star ferry, a walk through Tiger gardens, shopping, a side trip to Szenchen, our flight and drive back home, essentially over all the time we were on our own for the rest of our honeymoon. I have tried to piece Susan’s story together from these bits and pieces and make a complete story but in Melinda’s words.

“Susan studied to be a doctor in Montreal at the same university her brother had attended six years earlier. Her brother had been instrumental in Susan’s admission to the program. Montreal was the second largest French-speaking city in the world but, ironically, the English university had the reputation as the superior medical school. Susan had wanted to work in mental health all her life and now she was a student of psychiatry in a prestigious school.”

“Susan’s social life in Montreal was much as it had been in Hong Kong, free of men. Susan preferred the company of women, not because she was a lesbian but because she found men extraneous. Not only would men interfere with her studies but Susan found that men’s conversation either was directed towards sex or subjects that held no interest for her, like sports or cars. The guys she had encountered in high school or in University had impressed her as either immature or hormone-infested sex fiends. That would change in her second-last year of studies.”

“One evening, Susan went to join her Chinese girl friends in the TV lounge of her dorm. Sometimes they would actually watch TV sometimes they would discuss politics from home and sometimes they talked about guys, something which bored Susan. Today was different. Today there was a real guy to talk to, not talk about.. What made him fascinating was that he was obviously French Canadian from his accent. Susan hadn’t had the chance to meet many French Canadians at the English university, so this made the new arrival more interesting. He was tall, lean and muscular (to Susan he looked huge). His face had Latin features, the cutest smile Susan had ever seen and sparkling blue eyes, which Susan found incongruous with his dark hair and complexion. Susan thought this visitor was such a hunk that she was willing to forgive his long, aquiline nose. Susan asked if she could join and introduced herself to the hunk.”

“’Susan Wu and I’m from Hong Kong originally but I’m studying here to be a psychiatrist.’”

“’Léo Beauchemin at your service Mademoiselle Susan. I am studying to be a doctor myself and I am from Chicoutemi. We were just discussing the solidarity between the oppressed people of Quebec and Hong Kong. We are both conquered people and we have the same conqueror. Do you agree?’”

“’No, I do not agree with equating the people of Quebec to the Chinese of Hong Kong. The people of Quebec have their own provincial assembly and their own civil law. The people of Hong Kong have no assembly at all to carry out their political wishes. The Prime Minister of Canada is from Quebec and was elected by everyone in Canada. The governor of Hong Kong is English and appointed from England. I disagree. The two situations are entirely different.’”

“Léo laughed. ‘I see you are well read in your politics Mademoiselle Susan. I like that in a woman.’”

“Susan must have set off something in the other Chinese women as Quebec/Chinese politics replaced guys as the topic for the rest of the evening. Was the Papineau rebellion as significant as the Boxer rebellion? Was the Quebecois humiliation over the Canadian constitution greater than the Chinese humiliation over the Opium War?”

“They all left the lounge laughing at their political exchanges. Susan spent the whole week wondering if she would ever meet this strange Canadian who obviously loved to tell foreigners about his Quebec but was still interested in what Chinese had to say. Susan marveled that he was the first guy she met who treated women as equals and who could talk about things that interested her. Léo returned the next week and the politics turned to life in Hong Kong versus life in Canada. For some reason, Léo directed more questions at Susan than the other women.

As they were leaving, Léo took Susan aside and asked her if she would like to join his friends next week for a visit to Montreal’s Chinatown. Susan was stunned that her first invitation from a guy was such a handsome white guy. Susan recovered and accepted.“

“The first date with Léo went exceedingly well. Susan was the only Chinese in the group of students and was not only accepted by the other students but was asked to recommend her favourite and most authentic choice of restaurant. At the restaurant, the group asked Susan to read the Chinese-only menu that most good Chinese restaurants keep, and to provide some guidance. It may have been her imagination but Susan thought she caught a glimpse of Léo beaming proudly at his date’s knowledge.”

“The couples drifted off their separate ways after supper. Léo and Susan slowly walked towards Susan’s flat she shared with three other girls, talking about the differences of their lives in Hong Kong and Chicoutemi. Their first date ended with a chaste kiss at the door of Susan’s flat. Susan noticed the curtain slightly parted at the front window and muffled giggling from inside the flat.”

“Susan and Léo had a few dates after that over the school term, always ending with the same chaste kiss at the door followed an intense debriefing session with her three roommates. Her roommates just had to know ‘what really happened.’ Susan told half of the truth, which was that they had gone dancing, to watch a hockey game or to watch the student theatre.”

“The rest of the truth was that something was happening to change Susan’s attitude towards boys. Instead of her former indifference to anything male, Susan found her mind wandering from her studies to Léo. She liked Léo’s company but something was awakening inside her. When she was alone in her bed, she would sometimes touch her breasts pretending that a man was touching them. To Susan’s surprise, her nipples stood erect at the thought of a man’s touch.”

“During this fantasy, Susan noticed a tingling sensation making its appearance between her legs. Susan identified this as the feeling Canadian women called ‘horny’. It was un-Chinese and completely contrary to her previous feelings about men. Despite this, Susan expanded her fantasy to having sex with the man. As her fantasy grew in detail and intensity, Susan was surprised to find her dream lover was white and his face was the face of her friend, Léo.”

“Through the term, Léo asked Susan out almost every week. Susan didn’t accept all his invitations because she didn’t want any attachments or relationships to interfere with her studies. It was difficult enough to study in a foreign language without the added complications of a foreign boyfriend. Towards the end of the term, Susan put all thoughts of Léo out of her head and passed her finals easily.”

“That summer, Susan took a job in the neurological wing of the teaching hospital attached to her university. Susan hadn’t heard from Léo since before the final exams and assumed that he was no longer interested in her. She was quite surprised when she heard a familiar voice call her:

“’Mademoiselle Susan. Remember me? Léo? What are you doing here. You aren’t sick, I hope?’”

Susan looked and there was Léo in an intern’s uniform with a clipboard in his hand. He had graduated and was interning at the same hospital.

“’Hi Léo. No, I’m not sick. I have a summer job working with the records in the neurological wing. It’s boring clerical work and, yes I do get sick of it sometimes. I have to keep telling myself that the paperwork is important and that I need to know this side of health care when I am a doctor. I’m going to the cafeteria for lunch. Were you headed that way?’”




Mellow Yellow Ch. 09



“Susan knew that she wasn’t being a proper Chinese lady by asking Léo to lunch but this was a different country with different customs. The talked at lunch and at many lunches that summer. Susan and Léo went beyond exploring their cultural difference to exploring the differences that made them people. They didn’t just renew their friendship; they intensified their friendship to the level of romance. Susan was freed from the pressures of studies and term papers and now gratefully accepted every invitation Léo made. They had the time for long walks on Mount Royal, which they agreed suited the budget of a student and intern. Susan began to appreciate the beauty of the city that she had neglected while studying. On their walks, they talked of nothing and they talked of everything.”

“Susan had put aside her nightly fantasies with Léo towards the end of the term and replaced them with images of textbooks she would need for her finals. With the freedom of summer, Susan returned to her nightly fantasies. The images of Léo were more vivid now that she could see him every day and spend time with him on dates. Susan dreamed of Léo’s hands on her body and even touching that secret spot between her legs. Susan began to long for complete physical intimacy to accompany the growing closeness she felt in their relationship.”

“At the end of their dates, chaste kisses transformed themselves to long embraces ending with a kiss of fiery passion at the end of each date. Susan insisted that they have this kiss around the corner from her flat. Lovers embracing were nothing to a Montrealer but would set the tongues of her roommates wagging. Léo would then lead the passion-dazed Susan to her door and leave her with one last peck on the lips and the sound of three muffled giggles.”

“At the end of one of these embraces, Léo whispered in Susan’s ear: ‘I want to make love to you’”

“Susan couldn’t believe what she had just heard. This man, white and French-Canadian, wanted to have sex with her. Susan was a virgin and her family and society expected her to be married in that condition. This man expected her to reject her family and her society and embrace him instead. Yet, she did love Léo and she was happier with him than she had ever been in her life. Could she experience even more happiness?”

“’ Léo, I love you very much but why do you want to make love to me? I’m Chinese and you are white. Do you know what my family will think of us? What will your family think of us?’”

“’Susan, I want you to think only of us. I love you precisely because of what you are. I love you, not my family or your family. Can’t you see how we’ve grown close this summer. I want to be even closer than that. I want us to be as good as married.’”

“’But, I’m still a virgin. I won’t be any good for you.’”

“’You will be good if you love me. Come to my flat on Saturday. I will not be working at the hospital that night. Say you will and take this longing away from me.’”

“Susan accepted. This settled the inner turmoil within her and they walked in silence to her flat. When she entered, her three roommates asked Susan why she had such red cheeks. Had her Canadian boyfriend proposed. Susan replied ‘Nothing like that.’ and she hurried to her room.”

“The rest of that week, Susan performed her summer job on automatic pilot. Her mind was directed towards the weekend. As soon as Susan could, she obtained birth control pills from the hospital dispensary. Susan managed to find a pair of skimpy panties suitable for a student’s budget at the discount mart. The discount mart also featured padded brassieres from the 50’s that added size to Susan’s A-cups. Susan had given more thought to her studies than her wardrobe but one of roommates offered an outfit that flattered Susan. Susan thought that the outfit was almost sexy.”

“When Saturday finally came, Susan nervously approached the door of Léo’s flat. The same thoughts that had occupied her mind all week swirled through her head up to this final moment. Yes, she loved Léo with a passion and excitement that propelled her towards this moment. Léo was the right one to make her a whole woman, the completed female person she wanted to be. If she ran away from this moment, she might never find love and fulfillment again. Competing against the passion in her mind and fire in her body were 6000 years of Chinese tradition. She was expected to be a virgin at her marriage. If the marriage sheet was not stained with blood, her husband would reject her and take a second wife. She would be condemned to a barren, loveless existence the rest of her days. Furthermore, the Chinese can be as racially prejudiced as Europeans and it was a hated white barbarian who was about to become her lover.”

“Susan hesitated for a moment and passion won over tradition. She rang the doorbell, Léo appeared to take her hand and led her inside. It was almost as if Léo was afraid that Susan would get away from him. Susan had never been in Léo’s flat before. Actually, she had never been in any single man’s flat. The flat was sparsely furnished, as one would expect for a struggling intern. Léo had set out some wine and soft music played from an inexpensive stereo system. They both sat quietly together sipping the wine, as if they sensed the significance of Susan’s decision. Finally, Léo broke the silence:”

“’I am so relieved that you came to me tonight. I have desired you for so long, mon ‘tit chou, that I would kill myself out of despair if you had backed out.”

“’I desire you too, Léo. I dream of you at night. But I have been so torn between desire for you and my Chinese upbringing that even now I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing.’”

“’I will never hurt you, I love you so much. For me, I never thought that the woman of my dreams would be Chinese.”

“The wine seemed to relax Susan. She never was much of a drinker and very little had an effect on her mood.. As Susan relaxed, she allowed Léo to embrace her. Susan melted as she was held by this man, the man she had thought was a hunk from the first time she saw him. They had kissed almost chastely until now but Léo’s kisses this evening had grown in passion. His tongue parted Susan’s eager lips. Now Léo’s tongue darted between her teeth. Deeper and deeper his tongue penetrated Susan’s mouth. Never had a man been this close to her. Never had a man penetrated her body, not even in this manner. The restrictions of Chinese society left her and she enjoyed the touch of Léo’s hand on her face, caressing her back.”

“As close as they were at this moment, Susan felt an uncontrollable desire to become even closer to this man. She had never before felt so intensely the throbbing, pulsing feeling of pure lust emanating from somewhere below her waist. Susan vaguely became aware of a damp feeling filling her new panties. What was happening to her, she thought? No man had ever created such feelings in her body before. Suddenly, Susan heard a voice in the room. Susan knew it was her voice but it was far away and not her intellectual self:”

“’Léo, I want you to fuck me. I want you to take me now. I must have your dick inside me. I must have you as part of me.’”

“Susan had no time to think where she had learned words like ‘fuck’ and ‘dick.’ Léo helped Susan stand up and he led his dazed lover to the bedroom. Susan noticed that the sheets were fresh especially for that evening. Léo steadied Susan on her wobbly legs. Léo slowly removed Susan’s clothes until she stood completely naked. Then, Léo kissed her lips, her neck and made a trail of kisses between her breasts. Susan had been ashamed of her breasts since she had come to Canada. Susan had dismissed them as ‘baby boobies.’ Léo ignored Susan’s erected nipples and placed his hands on Susan’s hips. As Léo knelt, he passed his warm lips over her stomach. Susan had never been so exposed before a man, especially a white guy and she had no idea where Léo would stop with his kisses. Léo kissed Susan’s thin pubic hair and stopped at her now moisture-covered outer lips. Léo placed a kiss on Susan’s womanhood and said:”

“’C’est belle mon amour! What a woman!’”

“Susan thought she would faint at this touch where no man had touched before. Léo saw Susan’s weakness, caught her and placed her on the crisp sheets. Léo undressed himself in Susan’s full view. In spite of her aroused state, Susan found herself making a clinical, almost professional, assessment of the first man to appear naked in front of her. Léo was as lean and strong under his clothes as he looked in them. Susan marveled at his body hair on his arms, his chest and on his legs. Léo’s skin was milky white, contrasting with Susan’s golden brown colour.”

“Susan had never seen a man’s dick in real life. She didn’t know what to expect because the medical texts always contained prudish pictures of flaccid penises. Finally, Léo took off his briefs and gave Susan her first view of true life manhood in all its erect glory. Léo’s dick glistened in the soft light from the moisture it was producing. The erect dick was so much bigger than Susan had imagined that fear crept into her mind again.”

“Léo gave her no chance to ponder as he was now beside her, easing her apprehension with each caress. The passion that had faltered as Léo undressed now returned with force as their naked bodes entwined. Golden soft hands caressed a white hairy chest. Strong but gentle white hands caressed sensitive small breasts. Léo kissed and then took Susan’s erect nipples in his mouth. Susan marveled at the intoxicating feel of a smooth white dick as it pressed against Susan’s golden brown stomach.”

“Susan wondered if feelings could ever be more intense than these. Léo’s hand found Susan’s femininity and gently parted her bare, tight outer lips. Léo’s finger was gentle as it glided between the exquisitely sensitive inner lips. Now Léo’s finger caressed just below Susan’s most sensitive part. Susan had been unprepared for the lust she had felt during lovemaking so the first orgasm of her life overwhelmed her being.”

“‘Léo, what’s happening? Is it over?’, Susan screamed.”

“‘Wait, just a second, my love’, Léo replied. Léo opened the drawer beside the bed and brought out a tube of lubricant. ‘This is cold and unromantic, but we require it tonight despite what my hand feels.’ Léo spread the gel over his dick and then straightened out Susan’s legs. ‘It will be better if you relax’”

”Relax, after the most exquisite experience of Susan’s life, her first climax? Susan heard Léo speak as if he was far away. Susan’s orgasm left her detached and floating and her body was there for Léo to do with as he pleased. Léo could have tied her legs in knots and she wouldn’t have noticed. Susan had a vague sensation of Léo’s now cold dick sliding up and down between her inner lips and she felt this remote body of hers heading for another orgasm.”

“Then, Léo entered her body. Susan felt stretched but pleasant. Léo placed a reassuring kiss on Susan’s lips. Susan felt pain as her hymen ruptured. At that instant, she knew she had been transformed into a woman. The pain eased as more of Léo’s dick entered her. The remoteness left and Susan now experienced oneness with her lover. Susan realized that this was the intimacy she had avoided, yet longed for as Léo courted her. They were no longer two individuals, man and woman, Canadian and Chinese, white and yellow, but one merged being.”

“Susan reached up and touched Léo’s face. Tears welled up in her eyes.”

“‘Am I hurting you? I will stop and leave you if you want.’, Léo said.”

“‘Don’t leave me. I’m not hurt. It’s just that I’m so happy that I can’t control my emotions.’”

“Léo didn’t leave but patiently waited while Susan accustomed herself to the wonderful feel of a man inside her. Dreamily, she looked down towards her legs and discovered that Léo’s dick was only partly inside her. Was there even more pleasure to come? The thought was so exciting to her that she quickly built up to another climax. Susan’s sighs of ecstasy and her internal contractions were too much for Léo and he had his orgasm.”

“As Léo withdrew, Susan felt liquid trickling down her thighs. With a doctor’s clinical objectivity, she discovered it was a sticky mixture of semen. blood and her own fluids.”

“Léo said: ‘Let it go. Don’t worry about it. I keep the sheet for when we get married.’”

“’But it will be a mess when we make love. I want to do that again.’”

“’You’ve had enough for tonight. You will be sore for a few days but then we can make love again and we will do more. But you will stay with me?’”

“’Léo , I can’t stay because I live with three other women. You don’t know how curious these women are about us.’”

“Susan was sore for a few days but it quickly went away, replaced by memories of her first orgasm and a longing to have Léo once again inside her. As soon as Léo had a free evening, Susan was at his door again with anticipation this time replacing her doubts. Once inside, they proceeded to the bedroom without the wine and candle ceremony of the first time. They quickly left their clothes aside and embraced naked on the bed. Susan was so filled with eager anticipation that she noticed her panties were damp as she dropped them on the clothes.”

“Léo took his time, as a good lover should. Despite his eagerness to have more of his Chinese lover, he made sure that Susan was as aroused as the first time they made love. There was no pain this time when Léo entered her again. Susan felt Léo’s whole length as his dick slid inside her. Léo expertly stroked, first gently and then with a little more speed.. Susan responded naturally by raising her legs to take in more and more of Léo, even though her sex education and experience were minimal. Susan rose in ecstasy as Léo’s strokes became shorter and more rapid. Finally Susan and Léo both came with great force and volume. Susan was surprised to find that, when their orgasms had diminished, she was in the fetal position with her legs wound around Léo’s lower back. Susan was not merely a complete woman, she had become, she thought, an experienced woman.”

“Léo and Susan spent the summer as lovers taking their pleasure and delight in each other’s body at night and pleasure in each other’s company by day. After their second time making love, Susan thought she knew everything about sex but Léo was a resourceful lover. Léo introduced Susan to different positions and sexual games. Susan had always assumed that sex was serious business and fun never entered into it.”

“What Susan appreciated most that summer of passion was oral sex. Susan never mastered the French tongue while she lived in Montreal but she now eagerly anticipated Léo’s French Tongue sliding up and down between her moist lips. Susan just adored the sight of her lover’s head between her legs enjoying her taste. Making love to Léo involved all the senses, touch, taste, smell, sound and sight. Léo was so expert at the French Tongue that he could give Susan multiple orgasms with it. Susan often wondered whether she loved Léo’s tongue more than his dick. Much as she loved Léo’s dick inside her and the closeness she felt with Léo at that moment, she could never bring herself to take it in her mouth. Perhaps this was her way of holding on to her Chinese upbringing.”

“If Susan and Léo were so much in love, why didn’t they marry? A tragedy occurred in Léo’s family and he had to return to Chicoutemi. His father was killed in a car accident, which Susan says are common in Quebec. Léo found a hospital in Chicoutemi where he could continue his internship while taking care off his mother and family. They drifted apart for several reasons. Susan threw herself into her final year of studies and graduated almost at the top of her class. She tried calling Léo but she couldn’t afford the long distance charges on her budget. Probably Léo had the same problems of time and money as an intern at a small hospital. When Susan graduated, she decided to return to Hong Kong. She went back, not only to fulfill her ambition to work in mental health in the city of her birth, but also to leave behind the bitter memories of her lost love.”

Melinda was almost in tears as she concluded her sad story. I gave her a hug and said: “It’s sad but a woman as kind, pretty and vivacious as Susan will eventually meet the right guy.”



Mellow Yellow Ch. 10



Chapter 10: Susan’s Ethical Problem

I put our baby to bed and sat down at my computer. Melinda was working a shift as an evening nurse so this would be the ideal time to download the day’s e-mail. In the middle of the evening’s spam was an e-mail from Susan Wu, who had been so kind to let us stay with her when we were in Hong Kong. Susan always had interesting things to say and I loved her description of life in Hong Kong. This one had a particularly mysterious title so I opened it up.

To: “Tran Mei-Ling” 
From: “Wu Sui” 
Subject: My recent unethical behaviour
Date sent: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Mei-Ling, my good friend:

Something has happened that I thought I would never do. It has caused me untold happiness but it could also jeopardize my career as a doctor and mental health worker. I must talk this over with you because you were such an understanding person when you stayed with me. I knew from the moment I met you that you were someone I could confide in. When you talked about how much in love you were with your Canadian husband, I knew I could tell you of my affair with Léo when I was a student. I have never talked about this foreign affair with my family or my friends here in Hong Kong. I thank you for respecting my confidence and not mentioning it to my brother. What I am now about to tell you, you must keep a secret from my brother and even from your wonderful husband.

My affair with Léo could only tarnish my reputation as a woman. What I have done this week could see my career thrown in the ashcan. Mei-Ling, you know how important my work is to me and how few mental health workers we have in Hong Kong. I need your advice as a true friend and confidante. Please do not fail me and answer as soon as possible.

What has happened you ask? A couple of weeks ago, a urologist colleague, Dr. Leung, referred an English patient to me, Mr. Charles Burnhamthorpe (why do Europeans have such long names, please tell me Mei-Ling?). Dr. Leung’s file said the patient complained that he could not get an erection when attempting intercourse although he had no troubles at “other times”. Dr. Leung had examined Mr. Burnhamthorpe‘s private parts and had found them in perfectly good working order. His assessment was that the problem was psychological and not physical Dr. Leung was referring Mr. Burnhamthorpe to me because my English was better than the male psychiatrists he knew. I examined Dr. Leung’s notes and agreed to take Mr. Burnhamthorpe as a patient. My receptionist, Miss Yang, set an appointment and placed Mr. Charles Burnhamthorpe’s file in the filing cabinet along with those of my other patients.

I was astounded when Miss Yang let Charles in to my office the first time. Excuse me, I am never on a first name basis with my patients but that is impossible now to be otherwise with Charles, as you will see as I relate what has happened to me. I am getting ahead of myself. Why was I surprised at Charles’ appearance? From Dr. Leung’s assessment, I had expected Charles to be some ugly twerp without self-confidence. In fact, Charles was the perfectly proper, confident British civil servant. Moreover, he was exactly the type of white guy that appeals to me. He had sandy brown hair, blue eyes, a nicely trimmed moustache and movie star good looks. He was a little shorter than the average European, which would go well with my short Chinese stature (I was already assessing Charles’ potential, as you can see).

I recovered from my astonishment. “Please sit down, Mr. Burnhamthorpe. Dr. Leung has told me a little about your sexual dysfunction but perhaps you could tell me in your own words what the problem is?”

“Well, Dr. Wu, I seem to have enough lead in the old pencil, at least that’s what Dr. Leung assures me. However, when I make love to a woman, my willie does a flop at the most awkward moment. Quite frankly, I’m a 30 year old virgin and I’ve grown very tired of this state.”

“Well, Mr. Burnhamthorpe, we will look at the specifics of your problem later but first I want to hear something about your background. You should make it both personal and about your general health. Just tell me whatever comes into your mind.”

I started to take down notes about Charles’ past. I was surprised how open he was with me. Chinese men are so unwilling to open up to a woman about their past, their problems and especially their private parts. Charles was quite willing to tell me anything he wanted to know and he was not reluctant to disclose his feelings or his hopes. Really, he was a cultured individual, widely traveled and loved music. I couldn’t find any abuse in his past which might cause sexual dysfunction of the sort he described. There was also nothing in Charles’ health history as he related it which might have contributed to his problem. Charles had such a charming way of telling his life story that I was disappointed when my receptionist told me my next patient had arrived.

“Mr. Burnhamthorpe, I am baffled as to what the problem might be but I am willing to take you as my patient. Please make another appointment with Miss Yang on the way out.”

For the whole week I thought about Charles and his “problem”, turning over in my mind all kinds of possibilities. I think it was while I was speculating about Charles that I became curious about his willie and what he would be like in bed. I don’t think it was lust at first but curiosity as to why Charles couldn’t have a fulfilling sexual relationship with a woman. It was merely an idle speculation and not an intention to take Charles as a lover. After all, he might have a girlfriend despite his problem and I couldn’t steal another woman’s property.

When Charles came for his next appointment, I put some of the possibile sources of his problem to rest.

“Mr. Burnhamthorpe, you aren’t one of those English poofters that I’ve read about, are you? Have you ever had any sexual experiences with men, even once?”

“Good Heavens, Dr. Wu! What do you think I am? No, I have never even had a desire for a man. Plus, I went through the public school system so I never went to a private boarding school where that sort of thing is common with the lords and nobility of our realm. It’s all that bum-whacking that scrambles the minds of the toffs. In my school, the principal never gave out canings. No, I obtained my position in the Crown Colony government on the basis of my abilities, not the old school tie.”

“Please don’t be insulted, Mr. Burnhamthorpe, but I must check all possibilities. Have you ever used illegal drugs or abused alcohol.?”

I sensed that Charles was getting irritated by my standard doctor questions so I changed tactics and decided to indulge my curiosity: “There doesn’t seem to be anything in your past which could result in your sexual dysfunction. Can you describe what happens when you try to make love?”

“Well, there isn’t too much to tell. I can get an erection when I am alone, you know, looking at a dirty picture, that sort of thing. When I try to make love to a real live woman, I become distracted when she tells me to hurry up or not to tickle her or to treat her roughly because she just loves rough sex”

“I gather, Mr. Burnhamthorpe, that you like to take your time and prefer to treat a woman gently when making love.” (See, Mei-Ling, I was already comparing Charles to Léo)

“Exactly, Dr. Wu. I like to take my time and treat a woman properly.”

“What do you feel when a woman starts giving you orders or that she doesn’t like your style?”

“Frankly, it’s dashed distracting. Furthermore, I get these feelings of anxiety because of what I want to do and what the woman is demanding from me. My mind wanders from the job at hand and I lose my erection. When that happens, the woman becomes either uncontrollably angry or makes fun of my willie. Either way, she usually never gives me a second chance. You wouldn’t believe the cruel, sarcastic remarks they make when they leave. It’s all very distressing.”

“Have any of these women ever been Chinese?”

“No, all my women have been European.”

I was silent for a minute. You know that’s not like me but I was stunned at how brutal and uncaring these women had been to this lovely, sensitive man. What bitches these white women must be? No wonder white men desire we yellow women so much, Mei-Ling. We can provide in bed what these white women seem to be unable to provide their men, which is love along with the sex. I started to reminisce about my Léo and our love when Charles broke the silence:

“Dr. Wu. I said that all my women were white. Why is that important?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Burnhamthorpe, I have one final question. Do you currently have a girlfriend?”

“No, I don’t Dr. Wu. I have entirely given up on women until I get this problem sorted out. My last girlfriend was in England over a year ago.”

Well, Mr. Mr. Burnhamthorpe, I have weighed all the possibilities respecting your problem and I have come to a conclusion. Your problem is entirely psychological, something which Dr. Leung already suspected. If you had a girlfriend, I would take another approach to overcome your fears of sex. Under these circumstances, I would suggest that you undertake sex therapy to overcome the bad experiences you have had with women. I have been studying the subject from the papers written by qualified academics. They say the rate of success is high in cases such as yours. I would further suggest that the sex therapist be Chinese so that you are not reminded of your bad experiences with women of your own race. That is why it is important what race your women have been.”

“Unfortunately, sex therapy is relatively unknown in Hong Kong. I wish that I could call one up right now and make an appointment for you. (OK, I lied to Charles) Since we really don’t have anyone in Hong Kong who can help, I will undertake your therapy myself. We must start as soon as possible for your overall mental well-being. (and my own, I said to myself) Please come to my apartment Friday night and we will begin. Tell Miss Yang on the way out that no further appointments will be necessary. That will be all for today, Mr. Burnhamthorpe.”

After Charles left, I sat down shaking. What had I done? I wasn’t qualified as a sex therapist, no matter how well read I was on the techniques. On the one hand, I was curious about Charles and I wanted to seduce him. I think that after only two meetings, I was falling in love with this kind, sensitive man. I definitely pitied him being continually hurt at the hands of these evil white women. Don’t mistake this as feeling sorry for Charles. My pity was based on a growing love for this man.

On the other hand, it was unethical for a doctor to get involved with a patient. It was so unethical that I already imagined the scene with the Hong Kong Mental Health Board. They would say I knowingly took advantage of a distressed patient and used him for my self-gratification. Not only that, the patient that I had become involved with was British, not Chinese. They would call me a disgrace to the profession and I would never get another job as a doctor, anywhere, period.

My thoughts were interrupted as Ms. Yang opened the door and said in Cantonese: “Old man Mah is here for his appointment. Do you know that he complains about his memory but that dirty old man never forgets to put his hands on my bum. Shall I show him in?”

I quickly pulled myself together and said yes in my most professional manner. I can do that, you know. Getting back to my work made me less anxious about my ethics problem.

Actually, I started to get more and more excited about Charles coming to my apartment as I reflected on how long I had been without a man in my life. I told you about Léo but that was a few years ago. I didn’t tell you about the lovers I had since then. Quite frankly, Mei-Ling, I think all the good men in Hong Kong were taken while I was studying overseas. Either a man 30 years old is gay or there is a good reason why no sane woman wants him. If by chance he is straight and desirable, he is so immersed in his career that he doesn’t have time to relate to a woman. I did have some patients who were single men in my practice but I never gave them any consideration. They were usually so messed up in their head that it would be ludicrous to ever consider having a real relationship. I think that’s why you never hear about a psychiatrist having an affair with a patient. 

Yes, I had some one-nighters with Chinese men, all of them colleagues I met through work. I had not had a serious relationship with a man since Léo. Also, the sex was never as good when it was casual sex as it was when I was in love with Léo. I never wondered why until now, Did I just lack love or did I have a hangup with white guys, the way you say that Paul is hung up on yellow women?

Charles was not messed up, except for his inability to consummate with a woman. Charles was quite altogether in every respect except for that. No, I didn’t have the same inhibitions about consorting with patients as I would have with the variety of neurotics that usually sat across from my desk. Charles was so different from any male patient I had encountered that I came to regard him as an opportunity to overcome my inability to meet a real man. As I saw the opportunity to find fulfillment for myself in this situation, I started to feel less anxious about my predicament. If I could handle that “other problem” with the ethics of having sex with a patient, I might be able to have the relationship with a man that I had been missing.

I prepared for my “therapy” for Charles very carefully. I would serve only snacks. I know that you loved my cooking and I admit that I would have made a great cook if I hadn’t studied psychiatry. However, simple rice rolls, sushi and fruit would free me from the kitchen and let me concentrate on my “therapy”. Simple would be best for this evening. I also changed some of the lights in my apartment so the light would be seductively low. When I arranged my apartment the way I wanted it, I sat down and felt the harmonious but seductive atmosphere. Yes, Charles’ willie would be aided in its work by the Feng Shui I had created.

With the food and apartment preparations out of the way, I started to get myself prepared. I took a shower, dried my body that was becoming more and more eager for Charles and dried my hair. Then I carefully perfumed my body in all the right places but not too much so I didn’t reek. I used an expensive French perfume that I bought for this occasion, just in case Charles had an allergy. I had to be sure that nothing got in the way of my therapy.

Next, I put on some sexy lingerie that I bought for the occasion. I spent all day getting the right undies for the occasion. As I put on the black panties and brassiere and looked at myself, I thought that I could even give senile Old Mah an erection. I think we Chinese do our men a disservice because our underwear is too sensible to be keep them interested. Buy some sexy undies and try it out on Paul, especially since you’re married. It keeps the marriage from being boring. You don’t know how many women patients complain to me their husbands don’t show interest in them and are running around after younger women or taking second wives. These women don’t do anything to keep their husband interested in them. They dress and act like absolute frumps and then they wonder why their man is chasing a younger woman at the office.

Finally, I put on my crowning piece of clothing, my mother’s silk cheongsam. I never wore it because it’s so out of style but white guys think a cheongsam is so sexy with the slit up the side. I think they find it exciting when a woman is walking and her leg flashes out through the slit just for an instant. If I say so, I have much nicer legs than most Chinese women, who tend to be a little bow-legged. You have nice legs too, Mei-Ling, and you shouldn’t wear jeans so often. You should wear something that shows more of those lovely legs of yours, like a mini-dress. Maybe you should get a cheongsam as well and really look sexy for your white husband. You are half Chinese, after all.

I pondered footwear for a few minutes. I think that high heels would be best because it wouldn't make me look so short and it would go better with the cheongsam. Then it occurred to me that prostitutes wear high heels and Charles may have a bad experience in the red light district. How to solve the problem? Suddenly, I found some old-fashioned clogs that I had bought at a tourist shop and had never worn. Those would make me taller and not remind Charles of any white woman he might have ever encountered.

Since you visited, I have neglected is my hair. I still wear it long and straight and it was too late to go to a stylist. What to do? I was suddenly inspired and made peasant girl buns on either side. Yes, my dear Mei-Ling, I know that peasant buns and the cheongsam do not go together but I was not completely crazy. For some reason, white guys think peasant buns look so sexy with the Chinese face. I think it highlights the racial differences between Europeans and Chinese and creates curiosity about other physical differences. That style would be exactly what I would need to seduce Charles. Try that hairstyle sometime, Mei-Ling and ask Paul what he thinks about it.

I have to thank you for the makeover you gave me when you visited. After you went home, I went out and bought the same brands and colours you use. How was I to know that our faces need different colours than European women? I owe you for that because, when I stood up and looked in the mirror at myself, I was a stunner. I think I could have gotten a part in a movie the way I looked. I no longer was the frustrated, nerdy Dr. Wu. I had become Wu Sui the seductress, irresistible to any white male, the greatest Chinese woman who ever lived.

I hurried to make my final preparations. I put on the kettle so that I could have tea ready as soon as Charles came to me. I discretely hid a condom under some candies in the cloisonné candy dish on the coffee table. Finally, I took off my glasses and left them in the bedroom. I look better without my glasses, as Paul so graciously pointed out. I’m not too nearsighted and, if everything went according to my plan, I wouldn’t need them for the important close-up work tonight. 

As I put my glasses away, I heard Charles at the door. As I shuffled on my cloggies, I hoped that Charles wouldn’t notice that I wasn’t really accustomed to this style of shoe. I also hoped he wouldn’t notice my nervousness as I opened the door.

Charles’ deep blue eyes opened wide. “Dr. Wu? Is that you? I’ve never seen you like this.”

“It’s all part of the therapy. Now, if the therapy is to be successful, we will be Susan and Charles tonight, not Dr. Wu and Mr. Burnhamthorpe.”

I led Charles into my seductive lair. He sat down on the futon and I brought tea and I performed the Japanese tea ceremony kneeling at the coffee table. Yes, Mei-Ling, I know Chinese women don’t make a big ceremony out of tea. The reason I did this was that my plan was for Charles to get the full oriental woman experience this evening. Charles would not merely get laid this evening. No, Charles would be transported with me on an erotic journey through the mysteries of the orient and experience the most satisfying sex in the world, sex that only we oriental women can give. I would be Charles’ ultimate yellow woman and get his willie up and working in the process.

After I had brought the snacks, I cleared away the tea and dishes and sat down beside Charles. “If you are ready to begin, please put your arms around me Charles.”

I took Charles’ hand in mine. I never noticed how large his hand was compared t mine. He yielded to my guiding and I said: “Now Charles, I want you to demonstrate how you have been making love to these other women. I will show you that a Chinese woman will respond to gentleness from a man.”




Mellow Yellow Ch. 10



And HOW I responded. Charles was an expert at the romantic part of sex. As Charles strong arms enveloped me, I slid my arms inside his jacket. I could not get my arms around his cheat and had to make do with caressing the muscles on his back. Charles’ mouth was sweeter than the candy covering the condom. Charles began slowly, placing his lips on mine and then pressed more firmly, with his tongue darting over my lips. I opened my lips and let his tongue glide over my teeth. To show him that I wanted him penetrating my being, I parted my teeth and Charles tongue began to dart in and out between my teeth, Charles never forced himself on me but let me allow more and more of his tongue inside my mouth. As he entered my mouth, Charles held me tighter and tighter as if to say that he wanted to explore more and more of my willing body.

I don’t know if you have ever studied sex therapy but the therapist will initially bring the patient to a certain point in the sex act, compliment the patient on his success to restore confidence and then suspend the session without continuing. Charles was such a romantic, so gentle and manly at the same time that I put aside any thoughts of quitting. As I said, what I was practicing was in no way conventional sex therapy. I was practicing seduction and using every weapon available to the Chinese woman. 

I asked Charles to start undressing me. That is important with a man who has lost his self-confidence. The woman must always ask, never tell the man what to do. Charles was unfamiliar with the buttons on my cheongsam and started to fumble. I encouraged Charles by saying that he was doing it right. The cheongsam fell to the floor and I stepped out in the soft light clothed only in the lingerie that I had bought for the occasion. I think that I heard Charles suck in his breath and I noticed his pants had grown a noticeable bulge between his legs.

I started to slowly unbutton Charles’ shirt, kissing his hairy chest as it revealed itself to me. I am shorter compared to Charles so that my lips were naturally at the level of his chest. I let his shirt drop on my cheongsam and then I undid his belt. With difficulty, I managed to get the zipper down over the bulge and let his pants drop. We momentarily admired each other’s semi-nakedness in the soft light before opening the futon to full length. I didn’t want to create an interruption of even one second in my therapy by leading him to the bedroom.

“Charles, now that we unfolded the futon, come lie beside me and remove my brassiere.” Charles responded silently to my every request, but I could hear his breathing increase in rapidity as he beheld my breasts, the breasts of his first Chinese lover.

I discovered an advantage to making up my “therapy” as I went along. I could ask for Charles to do whatever I wanted and call it part of the cure. Now I wanted Charles to caress me into a fury of lust that I had not experienced for years. As his sex therapist, I had to point out every erogenous zone on a woman’s body and Charles eagerly explored and kissed each and every one. I showed Charles how smooth a Chinese woman’s skin is and was rewarded in return by his smooth white hand gliding over my golden body.

I held Charles’ hands to my small, firm breasts as long as I wanted. Charles learned exactly how a woman wants her breasts touched and caressed, gently around the base and then caressed up to my erect nipples. Charles tenderly kissed both nipples sending tingles from the golden mounds to the regions between my legs. I was spinning, spinning towards uncontrollable ecstasy but I had to remember that I was supposed to be the teacher and Charles my attentive student.

Charles’ hand caressed my stomach and then tentatively creeped towards my modus venus. I was on fire, thoroughly enjoying this man’s delightful touch but I still had a leg in the real world. I sensed that Charles was approaching the point at which he lost confidence with white women. I moved down and started to gently remove his underwear, taking care to not snag Charles’ willie on the waistband. I was shocked by what I saw. My weeks of curiosity about what Charles had between his legs and what it was like were finally satisfied. Charles’ willie was ENORMOUS, hard as stone and bigger than anything I had seen in my textbooks or real life. It glistened erect in the soft light, rising in circumcised glory from his firm testicles the same way the lighthouses around Hong Kong gleamed above the rocks on which they stood.

I hesitated and wondered whether I was physically able to do this job. Quite frankly, I had anticipated that Charles would have a willie of more regular size Perhaps I should have enlisted one of the older Kowloon hookers who were used to willies of all sizes. I put that thought far from my mind. No, Charles would be all mine and I could not entrust the work of initiating him to fulfilling sex to another woman, especially not a prostitute. I asked Charles to remove my panties, a job he eagerly undertook. After Charles uncovered my quivering private parts, I got to my knees, faced my white lover and said:

“Charles, I will show you how to touch a woman’s sex. This is the essential part of a woman. You’ve never touched a Chinese woman here, have you? I am opening myself up to you. This is how you touch a woman.”

I showed Charles how to hold my outer lips apart with two fingers and then I guided his middle finger up between my inner lips in exactly the manner I wanted. I looked over at Charles’ willie and, I swear that this is true Mei-ling, it grew at least two centimeters while I was showing him how to touch my sex. I didn’t know that a good woman could make her man even bigger. That made me proud of my therapy. Charles learned quickly how and where to touch me and I was suddenly racked with an orgasm. I shuddered and moaned while kneeling with my legs apart and Charles’ gentle finger sliding over my clitoris.

My orgasm was so intense that I became caught up in the ecstasy of the moment and I must have neglected Charles’ needs. As the intensity of my orgasm faded away, I noticed that Charles’ willie, the object of my desire and my “therapy”, was starting to soften. Why had I neglected my work and selfishly thought only of myself and not of Charles? I chastised myself because I was not being a professional sex therapist. I was no better than those self-absorbed white bitches who had created Charles’ problem in the first place.

The situation was desperate, Mei-Ling. I recalled that you said that your dear Paul likes you to take his willie into your mouth. Would it work on Charles? Desperate situations call for desperate measures but tonight I was doing many things I never thought I would do. Yes, my French Canadian lover Léo did practice oral sex on me, which I loved after I got over the initial shock. I was always too shy (or too Chinese) to take Léo’s willie in my mouth. I am ashamed to tell you that I was such a mediocre lover before I met Charles that I never had had a man’s willie in my mouth.

I overcame my inhibitions and told Charles to lie on his back. Then I took Charles’ willie into my mouth to make it hard again. I ran my tongue along the sides of his willie and tried not to hurt the precious instrument with my teeth. My mouth is so small and Charles’ willie was so large that I thought I would dislocate my jaw trying to accommodate its girth. I put Charles’ willie as far into my mouth as I could without triggering my gag reflex. Can you imagine this traditional Chinese woman giving a white guy a blow job? I know that it’s not part of the oriental woman experience but I was desperate. Besides, it was working, even though I was hardly what you could call a professional at this. Charles’ willie stiffened and grew in my mouth so that I had to take some of its length out.

Do you want to know something else, Mei-Ling? I think I like oral sex, at least with Charles. His willie is so smooth, a perfect match for the smoothness of my tongue. It fills my mouth from cheek to cheek forcing my tongue over its silky smooth tip.. I think that’s why my first attempt at oral sex worked so well. I also like the musky smell of Charles’ willie. The male pheromones must be concentrated on the willie because I find Charles smell intoxicating. 

I turned, retrieved the condom from the candy dish on the coffee table and rolled the latex over his stiff, erect manhood. Why was I using a condom you ask? It certainly wasn’t because I was afraid that Charles had an STD. I had checked Dr. Leung’s file very carefully and Charles was perfectly clean. After all, how can one get an STD without the S? It wasn’t because I was afraid that I would get pregnant. Actually, I was so enamoured of Charles that I wouldn’t mind having his child, even if I would get a reputation as a single mother with an Eurasian baby. The reason for the condom was to put a little bit of distance, as it were, between Charles and me when he was inside me. Charles had never experienced the inside of a woman, never mind a Chinese woman. I am depending on Léo’s word that sex with a Chinese woman is exquisite. But if Charles’ first taste of a woman was a Chinese woman, he would never last a second. I had to desensitize his willie with rubber so he would be last, be fulfilled and lose his anxieties about sex. If I let Charles feel the complete sensation of a Chinese woman on his first penetration, he might ejaculate prematurely and end up worse than ever.

I got on top of Charles and lowered myself on to his willie. The condom was dry so I rubbed his willie between my lips, trying to keep control. I was wetter than I had ever been due to my orgasm and my first taste of a man’s willie. Nevertheless, I had a problem at first to put Charles inside me. I think it was the combination of willie size and me being tight from the excitement of Charles willie in my mouth. Finally, I forced open the entrance to my inner chamber where I would entertain my lover’s manhood. I thought that Charles willie would tear me apart at first but as I slowly forced the willie towards its destination, force gave way to a smooth sliding motion. My pain and fear gave way to the feeling of closeness, love and lust that I only experienced before with Léo.

I lowered my trembling body onto Charles’s willie and his manhood and my womanhood joined together. Mei-Ling, what exhilarating thought whirled through my head as more and more of Charles explored deeper and deeper inside me. Here I was about to strip a white guy of his virginity the same way that Léo had taken his Chinese lover’s virginity. Charles had already stripped my mouth of its virginity a few minutes before. I could feel Charles willie now so far in that it was touching parts of me that had never before been touched. Three kinds of virginity lost on the same evening – think about it. I was being swept up with images of the Orient returning a favour to Europe and being rewarded doubly in return.

In the midst of all these thoughts, I had to turn my mind back to the business of the evening and think of Charles’ needs. I had to let Charles enter me slowly so that he could become accustomed to my tight vagina without being overstimulated. To tell you the truth, Mei-Ling, I needed to become accustomed inside to Charles’ size. I always like a man to enter me slowly so I can feel every bit of the length of his manhood and there was centimeter after centimeter of pure joy from Charles’ willie.

I must tell you this Mei-Ling, despite having to keep control, this therapy was turning into the best sex of my lifetime. It had been a year since I had any man, and what a man I was having. I felt as if two halves of my body were being forced apart by this man’s intrusion to my inner body and soul. It was like my essential self was splitting apart into my yin and yang.

Charles’ willie passed my cervix and I felt its rounded head press against my womb. Again, I had to try and regain control so I didn’t squeeze Charles. I had to make Charles’ first complete sexual experience last for him, otherwise he would never regain his confidence. I know that Charles bottomed out inside me because I felt slightly uncomfortable. This helped me return to my professional self. I checked between my legs at the point of our joining and Charles was still not all the way inside. That was fine for now. Charles could stretch me later but I had to attend to his needs now.

“Charles, we must stop and relax a little.”

“Susan, I’m fucking a woman for the first time in my life and you want me to relax? Have some pity on me. I never knew it would feel so good!”

I was surprised that Charles first words since we began making love would be so direct. I was thrilled that he was enjoying the experience and enjoying what I was doing for him and to him. I replied:

“Charles, I want to prolong this to make up for all your bad experiences. That’s part of the therapy. Let your therapist take control now.”

I started to raise myself slowly and let Charles slide out slowly. I could feel the ridge of the tip of his willie retrace its steps over my cervix and outward until only three centimeters were left inside me. Then I slowly lowered myself onto Charles willie until I had that same slight discomfort bottoming out. I kept this slow tempo up for 10 minutes and I think that I managed to stuff a few more millimeters of rock hard penis into me. The slow strokes were torturing Charles and his face was becoming more contorted. Charles face finally took on the same look as some of my more psychotic patients. From between clenched teeth, Charles screamed:

“Shag me off woman! You’re driving me crazy.”

The truth was that Charles was driving me crazy as well. I started to rise and fall more quickly, sighing in time with each stroke. Finally, I lost control on a deep instroke and went into an intense orgasm. I felt my insides tighten up around Charles and that seemed to do the trick for him. I felt his body shudder all over as he pulled my arms and brought my body close to his. I say I felt his body shudder as I was seeing only coloured lights. My orgasm intensified and traveled to the tips of my breasts as my nipples entwined with the hair on Charles’ chest.

I remained in that position, exhausted for a few minutes. Then I realized that I must be getting heavy on top of Charles. His willie was starting to soften to the consistency of a ripe banana. I slowly got up and watched as the rubber-clad willie popped out of me and then eased over on to his stomach. I lay in Charles’ arms for the longest time. I didn’t want to end the momentous occasion when I stripped Charles of his virginity as well as the first time I performed oral sex on a man. I was too exhausted from my “therapy” to move from this warm, luscious spot. As I lay there, I was fascinated by the sight of the willie that had so intimidated me when revealed an hour ago shrink back to a normal size.

Finally, Charles broke the spell: “Susan, I think I should take care of things here before I make a mess of your futon.”

I reluctantly let Charles go and “take care of things.” It seemed to be so mundane to hear the toilet flush after such passion. Charles must have sensed the banality of the moment and asked:

“Susan, can I stay with you tonight? You’ve done me so much good that I don’t want to leave right now.” 

I told Charles that, as much as I would like him to stay, that wasn’t part of the treatment. Actually, I was worried about my nosey neighbour down the hall, old Mrs. Chang. She was asleep right now and Charles could leave without her noticing. If he stayed until the morning, something I earnestly desired at that moment, widow Chang would see Charles leaving at the precise moment when she was doing her Tai Chi outside the apartment building. An Englishman leaving a Chinese woman’s apartment in the early morning would make juicy gossip when widow Chang did her daily shopping. Charles reluctantly dressed and I put on a kimono from my closet. Right up to the time he left, I was determined that Charles would receive the full oriental woman experience.

At the door, Charles asked: “Dr. Wu, we haven’t discussed your fees for the treatment. What are you charging for this?”

I was incredulous. Charles wanted to pay me when I had received so much pleasure that I should be paying him. Suddenly I had an inspiration as to how I could see Charles at the earliest possible moment:

“The procedure is experimental and I haven’t established a fee schedule yet. Can we discuss the fees at your next session, Mr. Burnhamthorpe? I am heavily booked all next week, but I can fit you in tomorrow morning. I believe that we should continue at your apartment so that we achieve success in all possible surroundings and using all different methods. Would tomorrow morning at 9:00 am be satisfactory.”

Charles readily agreed to go ahead with his therapy. I suspect that I had done my job so well that evening that he would have agreed to any fee, even if I asked three times what the high-priced Hong Kong hookers charge.

It is getting late, Mei-Ling and I haven’t finished telling you about my next encounter between Charles and me. I will write some more in a few days when I have some time. In the meantime, can you think about what you would do if you found yourself in my situation, Mei-Ling? I need to know what to do about Miss Yang as she knows that Charles was my patient before we became involved and she knows about the incriminating file in my records. Also, there is the matter of Dr. Leung who referred Charles to me. What must I do to ensure that my unethical behaviour remains a secret? Please give me your ideas. I think Charles and I are falling deeply in love. Without asking, he calls me Susan now, not Dr. Wu. I pray that he stays with me when the English leave Hong Kong. I cannot stand the thought of having another love torn from me by circumstances beyond my control.

Your psychiatrist friend (who needs her head read) Wu Sui

I closed the e-mail and deleted the spam. I was tired and went to bed before Melinda came home. In the middle of the night, I suddenly woke up. In the darkness, Melinda had uncovered me and was sucking on my dick to make it stiff.

“You read the e-mail before you came to bed, didn’t you?

As Melinda lowered her wet pussy on my dick, she said: “Go back to sleep Paul. I’m pretending I’m a sex therapist.”



Mellow Yellow Ch. 11



Melinda was changing her nursing shift so she just got up, had breakfast and a shower and left for work. That meant that we wouldn't have a chance to discuss Susan's problems until the evening. I went to my office room and checked my e-mail to see if there was any business mail and found another e-mail from Susan.

To: "Tran Mei-Ling" xxxxxx@xxxxxxxxxxxx.xxxx
From: "Wu Sui" xxxxxxxx@xxxxxxxxxxx.xxx
Subject: My predicament is growing
Date sent: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Mei-Ling, my good friend:

Please let me finish the story I started in my first e-mail. I am sure that you will help me work through my predicament after I tell you the rest of the story. I still don't have all the answers but I love Charles. I will be his lover, even if I lose my job, although I hope it doesn't come to that.

I slept well that night, secure in the knowledge that I had made Charles' willie work where numerous white bitches before me had failed. There was a faint trace of Charles' aftershave and his perspiration on my futon as a result of my therapy. I chose to sleep on the futon instead of my bed to prolong our time together. I think I slept so soundly not just because of my accomplishments but because I was thoroughly exhausted from the multiple orgasms I had received as a result of the wonderful instrument I had forced inside me. Well, every medical procedure has its side effects.

In the morning, I awoke, surprised that my private parts were not sore as a result of their encounter with Charles' enormous member. I distinctly recalled the difficulties I had inserting it and how I felt almost impaled, as if I was sitting on a fence post. I traced my finger around my inner lips and the opening to my vagina and there was not a hint of discomfort. I thought that my vagina would be stretched but it had returned to its usual tight dimensions.

As I proceeded with my gynecological self-examination, I regretted that I had required a condom for the "therapy". I wished that I could feel the sticky traces of this wonderful man's semen trickling out between my legs. I longed to bring my hand to my nose and breathe in that erotic manly smell that had so excited me during my classes on in-vitro fertilization. I felt satisfied, more satisfied than I had been in my life. I was happier than I had been since I came back to Hong Kong as I now had a man in my life and I had the best sex of my life with him the previous night.

Unfortunately, happiness does not seem to be a permanent state for me. As I prepared to go to Charles again, my situation weighed heavily on my mind. Until the moment that Charles and I made love, I could have backed out. Now, I was involved with my patient and there was no turning back. I also began to be concerned whether Charles would see through my deception. When he found out, would he understand or would he lose respect for me? Would he be so angry that he would never see me again or worse, report me to the Hong Kong College of Physicians and Surgeons?

As I left my apartment building, I said good morning to the widow Chang as she performed her morning ritual of Tai Chi. I checked her face for an expression of disapproval or even a knowing wink but there was nothing on her mind, except perhaps for the last episode of her favourite soap opera. Obviously, I needn't worry about widow Chang demolishing my reputation. I hurried to the subway and took the Island Line to Charles' apartment. I entered the apartment building when someone spoke to me in Cantonese:

"Where do you think you're going. This apartment building is for British civil servants only."

In a tiny cubicle beside the door was a tiny, self-important looking old man. The bottom half of the door to his cubicle had a shelf that served as a desk and bore the word CONCIERGE. He put down his Chinese newspaper on the door shelf and peered over his reading glasses. Well, I had never been to the apartment of a British civil servant before so I wasn't sure of the protocol, although I was sure that everyone would be civil and display good manners, no matter what they really thought. I was wrong as the tiny man barked at me again:

"Are you deaf young woman? I said that this building is only for the British civil servants. What is your business here?"

Really, Mei-Ling, sometimes Chinese treat Chinese worse than the English do. I decided that I would not be intimidated by this petty person, so I said in my most dignified and condescending manner:

"I am Doctor Wu Sui-Beng. Mr. Charles Burnhamthorpe is expecting me. Our business is none of your concern. Please announce to Mr. Burnhamthorpe that Dr. Wu has arrived."

With that, I flounced away and took the elevator to Charles' floor. The little toad in the lobby must have followed my orders because Charles was at the elevator when I stepped out.

"My, My, Susan. Aren't we much more professional-looking than last night? Please come to my apartment. I have taken the liberty of preparing an English breakfast."

I followed Charles to his apartment and was welcomed by the soft sounds of an er-hu playing on the sound system.

"Why Charles, I didn't realize you liked Chinese music."

"When you don't have much of a social life, you take up hobbies. Mine was studying classical Chinese music. I have every recording of er-hu masters I could find in the markets and music stores. Please sit down, Susan, and I'll bring breakfast."

While Charles made his final preparations in the kitchen, I sat at the breakfast table, and looked around at Charles' apartment. His apartment was larger than mine but it didn't seem that much bigger because Charles had more furniture. I was used to the clutter of furniture in Western homes and the decorative tastes of white people from my student days in Canada. Charles seemed to have different taste than other westerners I had met. His walls had pieces of good art, mostly western style although he had some nice Chinese pieces. The mostly European atmosphere seemed to be incongruous with the Chinese music that floated through the apartment at my first inspection. There were shelves of books, some of which appeared to be rare editions. I wanted to get up and examine Charles' reading material and learn more about my new lover.

My curiosity was interrupted by Charles bringing two steaming bowls of porridge. I have nothing against porridge. I find it somewhat like thick congee. I just wish that porridge were made from rice, which is food for people, not oats, which is food for animals. I complimented Charles on his cooking and then he brought out another course of bangers, eggs, toast and jam. I like bread and English jam is quite palatable, even if it's very sweet. Even the English cannot damage the humble egg. However, I have always wondered why the English bother calling the banger a sausage. There must me nothing on earth which is so greasy, filled with questionable parts of the pig and all tied up in a bag which, at one time, contained excrement.

The English are very fussy about table manners and I struggled to keep my fork in my left hand so I would not offend. Charles sensed that I was becoming tense and started a conversation to try and put me at ease:

"Really, Susan, you have been examining my life and my loves for a couple of weeks and I hardly know anything about you except where you live. Please tell me all about your family and especially all about yourself."

Charles was right. I had been secretive about myself but that's how doctors are supposed to be with their patients. However, I had demolished the doctor/patient relationship effectively last night so I told Charles my whole life story. Charles had learned from me all the psychiatrists' tricks to get out of me what he wanted to learn. He was good at it but I was still better. I managed to avoid telling him about any of my previous lovers. After all, Charles was still a virgin a scant 12 hours before and I didn't want to damage his still fragile confidence by comparing him to others. Finally, Charles hit me with the question I had been dreading:

"Now, Susan, you haven't told me if you ever did sex therapy before. You haven't, have you? Actually, last night wasn't conventional sex therapy at all, was it? I suspect that it was the kind and loving act of a remarkable woman."

I was stunned. Charles had figured me out that quickly. My mind scrambled for something to say but all I could do was apologize:

"Yes, Charles. It wasn't sex therapy at all. Please don't be angry at me for pretending to be what I am not. I know that it wasn't professional of me but I think I began to love you from the moment when Ms. Yang shut the door as she left. When I discovered what your real problem was and that there was nothing physically wrong with your willie, I knew that I was the one who could bring you sexual fulfillment. Yes, I have never performed sex therapy. The story was just a way to get you to bed."

"Susan, there is no need to apologize. In fact I admire your ingenuity. Susan, the way you made love to me was so different from anything I experienced in my life with women that I am in your debt forever. I am the one who should apologize for talking about a fee for what you did. A man must never pay a woman he loves for sex."

Charles words melted away the biggest fear that I had. He wasn't angry with me at all. Quite the contrary, Charles had just spoken the words of love that I longed would fall from his lips. I was ecstatically happy for a moment but my mood crashed to the floor in an instant when I thought about the consequences of a public profession of our love. There was my ethical situation, our racial situation, pressure from family, and the impending departure of the English, so many things seemingly beyond my control. Tears welled up in my eyes as these thoughts flew through my head. Why is happiness so fleeting for me?

"Susan, please don't cry. Did I say something wrong? Is there someone else for you that you haven't told me about?"

"No, Charles. My tears are from happiness and sorrow over our love for each other. We know we didn't do anything wrong but a doctor is not allowed to become involved with a patient. Nobody will believe that I didn't take advantage of you. The scandal will cost me my job. Even if I still have a job, what will happen to us when the English leave Hong Kong?"

"It's dashed more complicated than you've put it, my sweet love. If there is a scandal, Her Majesty's government will ship me home in disgrace on the first British Airways flight that's available. With the hand over of Hong Kong imminent, the British don't want to do anything to upset the Chinese. The Chinese wouldn't want a lowly civil servant of the foreign devils diddling a future citizen of the People's Republic. So you see, Susan, it's not just your professional ethics that's a problem here. This situation could cost me my job and my future as well."

Now I really started to shake and cry as I realized the jeopardy I had placed my lover in. Why had I so selfishly thought of myself and my own self-gratification without thinking of what might happen to Charles? I could only see gloom and darkness ahead with my lover and me separated by half a world, stigmatized and living in utter shame and disgrace. Charles read my thoughts and put his arms around me to comfort me in my despair.

"Susan, please don't fall apart on me, especially after we have just professed our love to each other. This is something that we have to work out together. I don't want to leave Hong Kong when the Chinese take over, especially now that I've met you. I have been talking to many of my business contacts and the Chinese themselves about staying. As a commercial attaché I know where the money is buried. The Chinese may not appreciate democracy but they do appreciate Comrade Pound and Comrade Dollar. So that problem may work out for us. As for the other problems with your Mental Health Board and my employer, we must devise a way of going public. In the meantime, we will be secret lovers and careful ones at that. Who knows about us?"

"You're right Charles, we must be careful. I haven't had time to tell any of my friends or family about you although I want to brag about you. There's only Dr. Leung and Ms. Yang, my receptionist who know that you were my patient. Oh yes, I also told that awful dried-up old man at the door my name, that I'm a doctor and that I had an appointment with you. I still thought you hadn't seen through my pretensions to be a therapist when I came here."

"Oh, you mean Old Ang the concièrge. I hope he didn't insult you. He does a good job of looking after us but he has an unfortunate tendency to assume every single Chinese woman who shows up at the door is a whore on an assignment. Don't worry about him. He's retiring at the end of the month and returning to his village in Guangdong. See, none of the problems are as big as you think they are."

I let my tear-stained face rest on Charles' chest. Charles removed my glasses and put his arms around me. I found this so comforting that my tears dried up and the troubles I had foreseen receded into the distance. There were no more troubles, only the man I loved saying soothing words to calm my troubled mind. I relaxed and began to enjoy our closeness. Mei-Ling, I came to realize that a man who is not in love couldn't comfort a woman. I had not felt the comfort of a loving man since Léo. I reached up and touched Charles' face and drew his head towards mine.

Charles began to passionately kiss me. I responded in kind. Mei-Ling, I was in an emotional state of fear and despair but Charles' kisses and caresses turned these emotions of mine to love and lust. As Charles held me tightly to his body, I felt tingling between my legs and my panties becoming moist as that part of me anticipated another visit from Charles magnificent willie.

I started to use the lessons learned from the mouth of Léo and playfully ran my tongue between Charles lips and over his white teeth. Charles opened his mouth and my tongue eagerly dove in to explore his waiting mouth. I was surprised because Charles' tongue seemed to match his willie for size as it darted in and out, violating my mouth as I had violated his. Charles mouth was sweet and wet but I sensed that my panties were becoming even just as wet as my beaver prepared to welcome again its visitor of the previous evening.

Charles took his hand away from my lower back and started to unbutton my blouse. I was amazed at his concentration as one hand opened up my clothes, one hand caressed my eager body and his tongue continued its frequent explorations of my mouth. Charles uncovered my shoulder and his lips turned their attention to my shoulder and my neck. Charles was providing me such exquisite pleasure that I had to return the favour. I pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt and kissed every spot on his neck and shoulders where he kissed me. One pleasure I could not return to Charles was the erotic tickle as he removed my hair from my shoulders.

With one hand, Charles unsnapped my brassiere. This proved to me that Charles had both talent and strong fingers as other men either needed two hands or tried to rip my good lingerie off. Charles held me close so my breasts touched his chest. I felt a surge of excitement at the intimate touch of my womanly pride against his manly, hairy chest. Charles caressed one breast on the side and then the other, raising my excitement and the moisture content of my panties. Charles then alternately kissed each erect nipple. I thought my orgasm would surely be triggered by Charles tongue as it glided sensuously around and over the tips of my breasts but he suddenly stopped.

"Woman, I want you now. I want you to shag me the same way you did last night."

"No, Charles. You must take me this time. This Chinese woman is all yours to do with what you want. I want you to have me your way. I must have your big white willie thrusting between my yellow thighs again. Don't stop Charles. I made your willie work last night and this time you'll make it work all by yourself. Yes, fuck me, Charles. Fuck me."

"Fuck" is not exactly one of the words we learned in English classes in Hong Kong Schools but my mind couldn't think of anything else to say. Charles unzipped my skirt and scooped me up in his arms as if I were a sack of rice. To tell you the truth, Mei-Ling I was so consumed by desire for that huge willie between my legs that I had as much life in me as a bag of rice. Charles placed me gently on the bed clad only in my panties. Despite my professional clothes, I had taken care to wear my "therapy" lingerie underneath. I must have been a sexy sight with my erect breasts and skimpy thong panties hiding Charles' objective. Charles quickly undressed. His willie hadn't lost a millimeter overnight and it stood out straight from his body. Charles took a condom from the drawer by the bed.

"No Charles. Leave it there. I want you to experience how I really feel inside, the real feeling of a Chinese woman. I want to feel you and to feel your seed inside me."

Charles didn't argue with his doctor. He knelt on the bed and slowly removed my panties. His eyes opened wide as my wetness followed the crotch of the panties down the inner part of my thighs. Charles spread my legs apart and inexpertly tried to push that huge willie past my tight lips. Well, why should I have expected Charles to be an expert? He had only gotten past this point with a woman once in his life and I had done all the work. I reached down and took Charles willie with one hand. I thought I had grabbed the handle on a cricket bat. It was that thick and just as hard. With my other hand, I parted my outer and inner lips and rubbed the throbbing head of Charles' willie up and down from my vagina to my clitoris.

I could feel an orgasm building so I stopped. It would do Charles no good in building up his confidence if we both came at this point. I brought up my legs and placed the tip of his willie at the entrance to my vagina. Since Charles wasn't using a condom, I had to make him last but I also had to tell Charles what to do without sounding like a white bitch.

"Feed me that big white willie of yours slowly, Charles. You will feel the inside of me better, you'll last longer and you won't hurt me. Be careful of me, my Giant."

Charles pushed his bulging tip past my entrance and I felt my insides being deliciously spread apart in the same way as the previous night. Charles entered me with far less difficulty than I had experienced last night. I am not sure if this was because without a condom both our lubricants were more effective, if it was because I had not had my orgasm yet or if I just had lost my fear of a big willie. In any case, I relaxed as Charles was taking charge and concentrated on my needs instead of his. As the tip of Charles' willie creeped further in, I traced its way every inch of its journey up my vagina. I could feel that flared tip spread me apart and then the stretching replaced by the fullness of his thick shaft.

I have read a lot of literature on female sexual response, especially about the G-spot. Frankly, Mei-Ling, I never believed in its existence or, at best, it was something that only existed in white women. As I concentrated on Charles' willie passing my cervix and expecting even more and more, my G-spot suddenly became a reality. Charles' tip triggered an orgasm, as I had never experienced in my life. It was the full deal, Mei-ling. I saw coloured lights spinning in my head. Every muscle in my body tightened and twitched as if I was having a convulsion. Later Charles told me I screamed his name over and over again but I am sure that no thought was running through my head other than love for the man who could do this to me.

Charles also told me I was thrashing around so much that he couldn't last a second longer and he came just after I began my orgasm. He says that I lasted three minutes thrashing about and he only managed to keep his willie inside by pinning down my hips and hanging on. I am sure that his hands on my hips and bum kept the orgasm going. All I know is that when I finished, I was covered in sweat and looking into Charles eyes. It was the look of love but there was a trace of disappointment in his blue/grey eyes.




Mellow Yellow Ch. 11



"Charles. Wasn't I good enough for you? Did I disappoint you?

"No Susan. For me it was even better than last night. But I wanted this to last a long time like you asked me. Instead, I came without putting all my willie inside you."

"Charles, you're still an inexperienced man. This was only your second time in your life to have sex and you were getting it from one of the best. Try to remember, you're screwing a Chinese woman and, quite frankly my love, we are so much better at sex than white women that you will never want a white woman again. Six thousand years of civilization has made Chinese women gold medal winners in the Olympiad of sex. But for an inexperienced man, you still drove me crazy. Don't worry my white stallion. As we get more accustomed to each other, we will make it last longer."

Charles accepted this combination of advertising and encouragement and slowly extracted his willie from my still-quivering beaver. I must take Charles' word that he was only part way in because Charles took forever to withdraw. Did Charles have a willie or a giant snake between his legs? When the tip finally left with a kind of squish sound, it was like a river of semen and lubrication washed out of me.

"Susan, let me clean you up," as Charles started to reach for some facial tissues.

"Hold me Charles. Forget the tissues. A woman needs to be held after sex, especially this woman. I'm still high from the screwing you gave me. Hold me tight and don't leave me now. Promise me you won't ever leave me like our first time?"

Charles held me close and, as the flow of liquid washed over my thigh, I drifted off to sleep, exhausted and sexually satisfied. When I woke up, I noticed that Charles had pulled the sheets over us to keep us from the cold. Charles was still asleep so I must have worn him out more than he had me. I urgently needed to pee so I quietly slipped from under Charles' arm and went to the loo to relieve myself.

As my fingers held my lips apart to pee, they became covered with sticky liquid, now slightly congealed. When I had finished peeing I held my fingers under my nose and savoured the smell. Most importantly, I smelled the erotic aroma of Charles' semen. I had longed to breath this in when I awoke in the morning and now it was a reality to me. Then I could smell the distinctive muskiness of Charles willie that I had discovered only through oral sex the night before. Finally, I smelled my own juices in this symphony of sex, this chorus of copulation that wafted upwards to my nostrils. Mei-Ling, it made me so horny again that I wondered how I could have felt so satisfied an hour before.

Reluctantly, I cleaned myself so I wouldn't mess Charles' apartment. I let Charles rest so that he could recover his strength for what I was beginning to plan. I closed the door to Charles' bedroom and found his shirt and my glasses on the sofa. I rolled up the shirt sleeves and put it on as a makeshift coat. I looked around his apartment, examining more closely his artwork and the books on the shelves. Charles' art was selected so that Western and Chinese pieces worked in harmony. From the Chinese pieces, I could tell that Charles had well developed taste.

I remembered that I was curious about Charles' books at breakfast, so I went over to his book case. I noticed that most of his books were English classics or respected modern authors. Mei-Ling, you studied these books. You must tell me which ones to borrow so I can impress my new found love. However, on one side were some well-worn textbooks in elementary Chinese. Charles was trying to learn Mandarin. Suddenly, I realized that Charles wasn't just feeding me a line in the morning. He really intended to stay in Hong Kong and was preparing for it. I was elated. Perhaps there was hope for us as a couple.

As I walked around the apartment and examined Charles' personal items, I realized that I had not been wrong in my analysis of the man who had sat across my desk as a patient a short time ago and was now my lover. This was an extraordinarily gifted and sensitive man that I had found. As for Charles' willie, I hadn't found it, I had created it. As my investigations progressed beyond his physical endowments, I became more and more in love with him. My feelings of love were accompanied by a feeling of becoming more and more horny. I walked past the remains of our breakfast on the table into the kitchen and started the kettle. I rummaged in some cupboards and found some nice oolong tea. 

Instead of idly waiting for the kettle to boil, I looked at Charles' extensive collection of music and put as many pieces as I could recognize into the CD changer. The sensuous strains of Chinese classical music softly filled the apartment at the same time as the kettle let out a whistling monotone. I rushed back to the kitchen and silenced the noisy kettle by pouring its contents into the teapot. The noise must have awakened Charles as I heard the toilet flushing. Once the tea had steeped, I carried two porcelain cups and the teapot to the bedroom and placed the tray on the bed

I poured tea without the Japanese ceremony of the previous evening. We sat on the bed facing each other separated by the tea tray. It was an extraordinary scene, Charles naked and me with just an open shirt, sitting on the bed sipping tea to the sounds of the er-hu, as if we were sitting in an elegant Hong Kong restaurant. We talked as if we had been lovers for years, not just hours. We were becoming less shy, more familiar with each other and I was becoming more and more horny. Fortunately, Charles modestly averted his eyes from my private parts so he did not see it becoming increasingly wet. Finally, I couldn't stand the wait any more and I took Charles' cup and placed the tea set and my glasses on the floor. I crawled over to an astonished Charles.

"I'm not finished your therapy yet, my love. Last night you asked me what my fee schedule was and, even though you say you regret it, I am going to set a price anyway. You must make love to me over and over again the rest of our lives."

I pushed Charles down on the bed and began kissing his lips. I didn't play this time, forcing my tongue in his mouth, Charles forced his tongue almost to the back of my mouth. We rolled over and over, joined at the lips, my legs wrapped around Charles' back. Charles hands were all over me, caressing my smooth yellow body, expressing his desire with his strong hands. Charles rolled on his back and grabbed my bum with his two hands, pushing me downwards. I was shocked to feel a semi-erect willie slither up my bum crack. I was wet and Charles willie was wet so it just glided over my lips and my bum. I brought my legs together to hold this wonderful object firmly but not so tight that it would hurt my lover. As Charles' willie grew to full size, Charles spread my bum cheeks apart and then squeezed them together on his willie. Mei-Ling, I thought I would come right then with Charles' willie still millimeters from its true destination.

I raised myself so I would not be so heavy on Charles. In that position, my breasts fill out and look twice their normal size. Charles put his hands on my bum and brought my breasts to his face and proceeded to bury his face in boobie. I got so horny as Charles massaged, kissed and played with my breasts that my beaver made his stomach wet. I reached back and put my hand around the willie. No matter how much fun we were having playing with my boobies in Charles' face, I had other plans for Charles' willie at this point.

I got off Charles without letting the end of that precious staff escape my hand. With my free hand, I caressed Charles testicles and with my lips I started to kiss the base of his willie. That takes concentration and co-ordination, Mei-Ling, to do three jobs at once and to do all three with gentleness. A man's balls are especially sensitive and require the proper touch. From Charles' moaning, I knew that I had the right touch in all the places.

As I worked my way up the willie's long shaft, the three odours that had so excited me in the loo wafted from Charles' willie in the most pronounced manner. I became wild and just plunged as much of Charles' willie in my mouth as I could without gagging. I had found the lollipop of sex, Mei-Ling. I sucked, licked and swallowed as much of our morning encounter as I could find. The only difference is that a candy lollipop gets smaller from the licking but My Boy Lollipop became bigger and bigger.

While I was enjoying myself, Charles remembered his lesson on how to touch a woman and excite her. He had me from behind and was gently playing with my inner lips and my clitoris. I came almost immediately, urged on by a combination of willie in the mouth and fingers in the beaver.

Charles stopped playing with me and told me to lie down. He spread my legs apart and tested my lubrication by sliding the purple head of his willie up and down between my lips. I passed Charles' test and I felt the pressure of his willie at the opening of my vagina. This time there was no struggle and Charles' willie began its re-exploration of the territory it had vacated not so long ago. I tried to relax after my latest orgasm to help Charles on his way. There was no need as my long time of preparation for Charles' return had lubricated my interior. My pleasure was rising as I felt Charles make his way further and further in, past my cervix. I was becoming accustomed to Charles' size as this time I didn't have the feeling that I would split apart. I decided that I must have all of this wonderful instrument, raising my legs and placing my feet on Charles' bum. I encouraged him on his journey with pressure on his bum until we had accomplished what has been impossible the night before. Charles willie was at it's journey's end, as far inside me as it could go. We were totally united physically. My legs entwined his body, my arms were as far around his back as I could get and my nails were digging into his back. 

The er-hu music changed to a slow piece and I released Charles' bum from the grip my legs had on him. Charles withdrew part of his great length but then, and I swear this is true Mei-Ling, he reversed and reentered me simultaneously as the bow of the er-hu changed its direction. Charles then withdrew as the bow reversed again and his withdrawal and thrusting kept perfect time with the sensual slide of the bow between the er-hu's strings. As the bow picked up tempo, Charles' speed of thrusting increased accordingly. My mind began to float with the music. Yes, Charles was playing his Chinese lover as the er-hu master plays his instrument. No longer did Wu Sui-Beng, sex therapist extraordinary, guide Charles in the way of love. The hands of the er-hu master guided Charle' willie back and forth, pleasuring his Chinese lover with each change of the bow's direction. I didn't resist the orgasm that rolled over me, waves of pulsating pleasure in perfect time to the music. I couldn't stop coming, Mei-Ling and to my surprise, my orgasm picked up frequency and intensity as the music increased in tempo and volume. Finally, the music was so fast that Charles had no opportunity to take out his great length more than two centimeters. He was literally pounding away furiously at my beaver. Finally, I could no longer take the intensity and the force and I screamed in Cantonese to stop. I couldn't think in English at that point but I doubt if Charles would have understood any language. He screamed incoherently as he came and then collapsed on me as the music ended.

After a few minutes like that, Charles withdrew slowly, making a squishy sound as he left me. I had just enough strength to close my legs. Charles put his arms around me and we remained in silence for an eternity. When we had both come to earth, Charles left for a moment and returned with some melon cut in slices. Mei-Ling, that was so refreshing and such a loving thing to do that I will never be able to look at melons at the market without getting horny again. 

"Do you want to go out to supper, Susan? We have some of the finest restaurants in Hong Kong a short way down the hill."

"There's nothing I would like better, Charles, but we can't be seen in public until our situation has been resolved. We can't be anything else but secret lovers until we figure out what to do."

"What can I do but take my doctor's advice. It seems to be working so far. Can I call you tomorrow? I know it won't be the same as if I actually held you in my arms. You are right, though. We can't be seen together or we'll both be in trouble."

Sadly, we got dressed and then quietly went down the stairs, trying to avoid meeting anyone in the elevator. Charles let me out the service entrance but not without one long, last passionate kiss.

As I traveled on the transit back to my part of the city, the sticky feeling in my panties was a constant reminder of the past 24 hours of sex with my new lover. I was peaceful with my loving thoughts of Charles. My biggest fear that he would be angry with me had come to nothing. However, I now have Charles' reputation and job to consider in addition to my own. Can we ever work all this out and be able to publicly declare our love for each other?

Please give me all the advice you can. I hope that your family is well and not in the same turmoil that I find myself in.

Your friend Sui-Beng

I closed the e-mail program and shut down the computer. Susan talked about the side effects of her "therapy" but one of the side effects of her graphic letter was that I now had a "woodie" that just wouldn't quit. If I could stay awake until Melinda came home...



Mellow Yellow Ch. 12



Melinda poured some French coffee for me and some tea for herself.  She set out our breakfast of soup and banh pho and sat down beside me.  I had already fed Tanya, who happily sat in her high chair, puzzled at why adults didn't like baby food.

"We have to talk about this, Paul."

When a woman begins a sentence with "We have to talk," that's the sign for a man to run as fast as possible and as far as I can.  This time I knew the conversation wouldn't be a series of feminine trick questions.  Melinda wanted to discuss Susan's latest letters, so I gave my humble opinion.

"I think that it's great Susan and Charles found each other but they have gotten themselves into a mess.  They could be in deep doo-doo with the English, the Hong Kong Chinese and the Mainland Chinese.  Did I leave anyone out?"

"That's just like a man to put the problems first.  I think it's more important that my good friend is in love and Charles sounds like a prize.  Not that I think I did badly marrying you, my love."

"I don't think I have my priorities wrong, Melinda.  If they don't sort out their problems, there won't be any relationship.  Charles could find himself in a dungeon in the Tower of London and Susan could spend the rest of her life sewing People's Liberation Army uniforms in a Hong Kong sweatshop.  Maybe that's an exaggeration but they could spend the rest of their lives separated from each other by half a world if they aren't careful."

"What do you suggest then, oh man of the world?  How would you get our friends out of this mess they have created for themselves"

"There are only three people and one object right now that can connect Charles and Susan in a patient/doctor relationship.  The three dangerous people are Dr, Leung, Susan's receptionist and Charles concierge.  The dangerous object is Charles' file, which contains Dr. Leung's referral and, quite likely, a good number of Susan's speculations about Charles' dick.  The concièrge problem will take care of itself if the horrible little man, as Susan terms him, retires before they go public.  Susan just has to avoid any more scenes in the lobby."

"I think that Susan should get rid of Ms. Yang.  As a woman, I think I know her type.  She probably resents working for another woman and is so catty that she would turn Susan in just to get back at an employer she secretly hates.  There is also the possibility that she doesn't like Susan's clientele.  Susan's patients are either a little crazy or completely nuts, after all.  Susan has to get rid of Ms. Yang."

"OK, that leaves Dr. Leung.  From what Susan says, he seems like a decent guy.  Why can't she talk to him about their situation and get him on their side?  After all, he's a man and he would know how important it was to Charles to have a dick in working order.  I'm sure that he would understand why Susan had to take these, umh, extraordinary measures."

"No, Paul, you don't work in the medical field so you don't understand the dilemma that would put Dr. Leung in.  As much as he respects Susan and even might be in sympathy with her 'technique,' he would be obliged to report to the medical authorities that she took advantage of  the doctor/patient relationship with Charles.  No, Dr. Leung is the troublesome one.  I don't know what Susan can do about him.  OK, clean up the kitchen while I put Tanya in her play pen."

As I cleaned up the kitchen, I thought about Susan's most recent letter.  Last night, after I read Susan's letter, I had a boner that I thought would last a lifetime.  I just wanted to tear off Melinda's clothes and screw her when she walked in the door.  Fortunately for Melinda's clothing, I fell asleep before she came home.  I wondered if Melinda had read the e-mail when she came home and whether Susan's graphic description of her sex life would have the same effect on Melinda as it had on me?  I knew that Melinda was easily turned on by movies with some skin.  Some of our best fucks had taken place after movies with an erotic scene.

As I found out to my horror once, Melinda also liked to read my erotica when I was away on a business trip.  She said that she could get off just as if I was with her.  I was pleased that Melinda's range extended to erotic literature and that she liked my style.  Except for one time when she learned a little too much about the women in my life, I didn't mind Melinda reading my material, if it aroused her.  Susan's first letter had certainly aroused Melinda with the result that we had reasonably good quickie.  Now, I was hoping for something a little more involved as a result of Susan's second letter.

I was on my way to the room that served as an office when Melinda called me from the living room.  Melinda was seductively sprawled on the sofa, her blouse opened enough to display a black brassiere and small, firm breasts that bulged out with each breath she took.

"Paul.  I've been neglecting you since Tanya was born.  I want to make it up to you and I want to do it now.  Let's play on the couch the way we used to do when we were just starting our relationship"

I didn't think I was neglected.  Melinda was the perfect career woman, wife and mother.  She juggled a career and a family perfectly.  Actually, juggling is not correct as, being Vietnamese, the family came first and the career came second for Melinda.  Her hours were strange but she managed to give both Tanya and me all the attention we needed.  There were a few weeks after the birth that I was cut off but, as soon as Melinda healed, she made quite sure that I  wasn't starved for sex in any way.

If I wasn't sex starved, why would Melinda say that she hadn't taken good care of me?  I was getting used to Melinda's approach to asking for sex.  Vietnamese women are not as aggressive as white women when it comes to sex.  They are basically just as horny as white women but culturally, they prefer to take an indirect approach to getting what they want.  Melinda was saying, in her way, that she was horny from Susan's description of her sexual adventures.  This was the approved Vietnamese method of saying that she wanted to get laid NOW.  I had been waiting for this moment every minute since I read Susan's second letter.  Even if Melinda wouldn't say it out loud, this was going to be one good fuck.  My woodie of the previous evening showed up right on cue.  I was ready for Vietnamese-style seduction.

I moved into position beside Melinda and she was on me like a tigress, thrusting her sweet tongue in and out of my mouth.  I responded and we explored each other's mouth for a few minutes.  I thought that if things worked the way I was hoping they would go, it would soon be my dick that would be exploring Melinda's dental work.

I undid the remaining buttons on Melinda's blouse one by one very slowly.  When Melinda was halfway to orgasm as she was now, I could drive her crazy through slow, teasing foreplay.  As I undid each button and exposed more golden flesh, my hand explored more and more of her smooth body, accompanied by low squeals and moans. After about 10 minutes, I had undressed Melinda down to her underwear.  She wasn't wearing the sensible nurse's underwear she usually went to work in.  Melinda had put on her skimpiest panties and pushup bra.  I undressed quickly down to my underwear and resumed my work on the couch beside Melinda. Call us strange or perverted but we shared an obsession with each other's underwear.     We loved feeling each other through underwear and then playing around inside before stripping completely naked.

My hands began exploring Melinda's smooth body.  Her golden brown skin was as smooth as always, gliding under my hands as I ran my hands over her back and along the outside of her thighs.  Melinda hadn't shed all the weight she put on during the pregnancy.  It wasn't visible and Melinda could still wear everything in her wardrobe.  It was just that my Vietnamese wife was a little softer now.  I liked it actually.  It made Melinda feel more cuddly.  As I explored Melinda 's body, she kept pace with me, touch for touch, kiss for kiss.  An oriental woman knows how to take care of her man during sex.

I undid Melinda's brassiere and gently placed my hand around her breasts.  Melinda had finished nursing so her breasts were no longer so sensitive.  Man, was I happy when I was able to play with Melinda's chocolate coloured nipples again.  I kissed each breast over and over again, marveling that such small breasts had nourished my child for so many months.  Melinda began to make encouraging sighing noises as I worked my magic tongue over her nipples and between her breasts.

"Melinda, this is just a taste of what's going to happen between your legs"

"Oh Paul.  I want that tongue everywhere.  Eat me Paul.  Have a yellow beaver for lunch."

"Sorry, not just yet my love.  I want the full deal today.  No skipping steps."

With that, I slid my hand between Melinda's thighs, along her smooth skin.  Melinda eagerly parted her legs and allowed me to explore.  Finally, my hand rested on her modus Venus, which felt wet and hot through her skimpy panties.  I slowly massaged her mound, eliciting more soft moans.  I then moved my hand slowly underneath her panties, along her thin oriental bush until my hand rested with a finger on either side of slit.  When we first became lovers, I had these pangs of guilt fucking Melinda, because she had almost no hair between her legs.  It was like I was fucking jailbait, even though Melinda was a mature woman.  Today, I didn't feel at all guilty and I parted those tight, hairless lips and let my middle finger explore Melinda's wet interior.  Melinda squealed in a higher pitch but still in a low voice.  She was in ecstasy but still remembering our child not so far away. 

I slid down the couch and Melinda  knew exactly what to do and turned so she was flat on her back.  I tugged at the skimpy panties and they came off easily with Melinda's help.  I parted Melinda's legs and began a muff dive.  The sofa wasn't the most convenient place to eat pussy but, thanks to me, Melinda had developed a taste for oral sex.  As I said, Melinda took care of me and I had to be as good a husband as she was a wife.  I parted her pussy lips and my tongue began its slow journey up towards her clitoris.  Up a bit, then back, up a little more, gently teasing and raising the pleasure stakes.  That's how Melinda liked it and that's how I gave it.  Melinda was so wet I thought she had douched with nuoc mam.

As my tongue reached the top of the V that formed her inner lips, Melinda let herself go and groaned and screamed as an orgasm took her.  Melinda grasped my head and squeezed it between her legs.  If I could set her off that easily, Melinda must be fantasizing about Susan's e-mail.  I was about to get the benefit of Susan's experiences via Melinda.  It was almost as if Susan sent us a Chinese New Year's gift a few months early.  With my ears blocked by yellow thighs, I could hardly make out Melinda saying:

"Let's do a 69.  I want to suck that big white dick of yours.  I want to give you as much pleasure as you're giving me."

Always willing to oblige, I got up and assumed the 69 position on the couch.  Melinda by now was an expert in teasing my dick with her tongue.  That's the best part of fucking a Vietnamese wife who is totally in love with you.  She learns what you like and wants to give it to you.  Melinda sucked in as much of my dick as she could handle.  I dived back between Melinda's legs and resumed running my tongue up and down her tight slit.  While doing 69, you have to keep your mind on both your end of the job and your partner's job.  Both of you have to tease but not to the point where you come.  Finally, Melinda signaled that she was on the edge.

"Now Paul.  Now.  Don't keep me waiting.  Fuck me hard.  Fuck me hard just like Susan got it.  Pound me with that big white dick of yours."

Yes, I was right.  Melinda was fantasizing about her friend's experiences.  As my head emerged from its muffie prison, it came to me.  I hadn't been aware of it until now but Melinda had put on some classical music before I came into the room.  She wanted me to keep time with the music the same way that Charles had kept time when he was pounding Susan.  This was my chance to prove to Melinda that white men have rhythm too.

I parted Melinda's tight lips and poised the tip of my dick at the entrance of her cunt.  As I heard the violin bows in the string section change direction, I started to slide my dick slowly in.  Melinda was tight even after giving birth.  Medical science is wonderful, I thought. Now gynecologists think about Daddy by restoring Mommy's snatch to its original tightness after birth.  However, I was not prepared for how tight Melinda's cunt was today after her orgasm and her fantasy about Susan's letter.  Fortunately, the 69 had lubricated our moving parts, making the job easier. I forced my dick in a few centimeters, when the bows of the string section changed direction on me and I started a slow slide back.  Just before I was about to pop out, I was saved by the string section reversing direction.  I felt Melinda's feet on my ass pushing me back in.  By the time the strings reversed direction, I had gained another centimeter.  Back out I went and the resistance of Melinda's feet notified me that I had backed out enough.  

Part way on its journey into Melinda's interior, my dick slid past the IUD that Melinda was now using instead of birth control pills.  The cervix on both Melinda and Mrs. Nguyen had both felt very prominent.  In a way, I regretted not sampling more Vietnamese woman to discover how general prominent cervixes were.  When Melinda had just had an orgasm, she tightened up inside, making her cervix's presence known to my dick.  Melinda's IUD wasn't uncomfortable at all.  It just tickled the shaft of my dick as I stroked in and out.

I slowly moved my dick further in through the andante movement  until I had my dick buried as far as I could.  Melinda's legs squeezed my ass, begging me to go as deep as I could. go.  My pubic bone pressed Melinda's swollen clitoris, producing a squeal of delight and another orgasm.  As the allegro movement began, I started stroking in and out in time to the music.  Melinda was shouting directions at me in what I suspected was rather vulgar Vietnamese.  I didn't think I would last but I made it to the end of the movement stroking in time to the rapid tempo of the music.  I came just as the cymbals gave a loud clash and finally collapsed on the sofa.

As I opened my eyes, Melinda opened hers and just smiled and held me close.  The final bars of the last movement trailed into silence.  Melinda spoke first.

"That was one of the best we've ever had.  You were marvelous, Paul.  I'm just sorry that we won't be able to do this when Tanya gets older."

"We've never had a problem finding new and unusual ways to enjoy sex.  Besides, don't you want Tanya to have brothers and sisters.  You're not going to cut me off when Tanya grows up, are you?"

"Of course not.  I meant, having sex on the sofa, as noisy and as openly as we did it.  Now, stop fretting, hold me for a while and then get back to work on your assignment."

As I held Melinda on the sofa, I thought how life was full of ironies.  When I was single, I considered married women to be second-class fucks.  Usually, they are fucking not for the pleasure of sex but to get even with the old man for some misdeed of his, real or imagined.  Besides that, when that ring on their left hand gets turned around, the diamond can shred a dick to ribbons with a hand job.  Now that I was married to a woman I loved and who loved me, she was giving me better sex than I had ever had from any single woman.

That evening, I was watching a hockey game, just like every breathing Canadian male that night.  OK, Melinda was close to the prefect woman but she had one slight character flaw: she didn't understand hockey.  On the other hand, most white women I had known didn't have the slightest interest in the game either.  Melinda yawned and asked if she could use the computer to write to Susan.  Between periods, I went to have a pee and passed my office room.  I peeked in and asked Melinda:

"Are you telling Susan anything interesting?"

"No, it's just more of our girl talk.  You wouldn't be interested."

Like hell I wouldn't be interested.  Often I wondered what "girl talk" really was  If I could read what she wrote to Susan, I might find out.  The next day, I checked the Sent Mail file and there was Melinda's letter to Susan.

To:             	"Susan Wu"  
From:           	"Melinda Tran" 
Subject:        	Your Wonderful New Lover
Date sent:      	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Sui-Beng: 

Things couldn't be better with us here, thanks for asking.  Tanya is well, Paul loves his work and I am adjusting to the role of wife and mother.  We are fine but you seem to have gotten yourself in a mess, haven't you?  It's like a good news/bad news joke isn't it.  You've discovered your dream lover but the way you discovered him could put you both in a mess. 

Let me deal with the bad news first.  You cannot meet Charles until you deal with the people who can identify him as a former patient.  You are quite correct that there are only three people who can connect you two in a doctor/patient relationship and they are the concièrge, your secretary and Dr. Leung.  Paul and I agree that the concièrge, nasty as he is, won't be a problem and poses no threat as long as you don't go back to Charles' apartment while he still works there.  Let the little cockroach return to his rice paddies and pigs. 

Ms. Yang is a more immediate threat.  From what you have told me about her, I think that she resents working with mentally ill people.  Furthermore, she resents working for a woman, especially a professional and intelligent woman such as yourself.  She is probably jealous of your accomplishments and that you have men in your life.  If she finds out that Charles is screwing you, she wouldn't hesitate to take the file and bring about your professional downfall.  So your first priority is to secure the file and next is to get rid of Ms. Yang, but in a way that leaves her happy.  I know she doesn't deserve any consideration but disgruntled ex-employees have a way of biting back at their ex-bosses. 

I can't advise you what to do about Dr. Leung.  Paul just doesn't understand the ethics of the situation and how Dr. Leung will be bound to report you to your medical association.  I don't know what to tell you to do about Dr. Leung.  Keep on his good side while we figure a way out of this. 

Now for the good news.  If you can take care of all these problems, you can "come out of the closet" and start your affair in the open.  Tet is only a few months away and there will be plenty of celebrations where an eligible young doctor can meet a handsome commercial attaché.  Find out if any of your friends with business are having parties.  Ask them if their parties might be business affairs with the Crown Colony's trade experts attending.  I'm sure that both you and Charles can invite yourselves.  I believe that an affair beginning at Tet is sure to turn into marriage the same year. 

I am so happy that you found a man who is your intellectual equal.  It's so difficult for intelligent professional women to find a man.  Usually the fragile male ego can't stand a woman who knows more than he does and makes more money than he does.  This is why you haven't been able to keep a man since Léo.  None of them have been worthy of you until Charles.  He also sounds like a great lay, now that you helped him overcome his sexual problems.  What more could a woman ask for that a friend, lover and white studmuffin. 




Mellow Yellow Ch. 12



We never really talked about white guys because of your tragic encounter.  Let me now give you my opinion on white lovers.  White guys are incredibly loyal to their yellow women.  I think it's because the sex we give them is so awesome that they develop a taste for yellow beaver that never leaves them.  In Paul's words, "Once a white guy has poked his dick in a yellow woman, he won't have anything else in his bed."  I just wish that it was me that had developed Paul's taste for yellow women.  I only found out later that his first one was an old Saigon whore that I despised.  I was absolutely astounded that Mrs. Nguyen could develop taste for yellow women in any white guy.  I guess that our bed talents exist even in tired out old hookers.  It occurs to me that the real revenge of we Vietnamese on Americans is that all these soldiers came back hooked on yellow women after screwing Vietnamese bar-girls.  The black and white women of America are now starved for sex as their men set out on a quest for yellow pussy. 

With Charles, you have an additional advantage that it was you who cured him of his sex problems.  Since it was caused by his past encounters with white women, you won't need to worry about Charles ever looking at a white bitch.  Charles will be yours for life as long as you can keep him from wandering in the direction of other yellow women.  I am lucky that we are a minority in Canada so that Paul doesn't have the opportunity to meet many Chinese or Vietnamese ladies.  You have the misfortune to live in a city where half the population consists of Chinese women.  A good number of those are curious about white dick so you must be constantly on guard against one of your Chinese sisters on the make.  One thing you must do is to make sure that the women who work with him are all white. 

Don't make the mistake with your Chinese female friends that one of my Vietnamese friends made. Li Hong found a white boyfriend and, well, you know how it is when two people fall in love.  Her mistake was to discuss Ted's skills in bed and the size of his dick with her friends.  Suddenly, a couple of her so-called friends began making inquiries about what evenings Ted might be free.  I think we are both lucky to have well-hung lovers.  I never discussed anything about how good Paul is in bed with any woman of any colour because I want Paul to be all mine.  Charles may be a great lay but don't do any advertising. 

More good news.  Don't think of having to meet Charles in secret as  a disadvantage.  White guys seem to be much more interested in sex when it's clandestine.  Maybe that's why there's so much adultery in European society.  Meet Charles in a sleazy hotel and see what happens.  Better yet, why don't you take a holiday together?  I would suggest that you don't travel together but meet each other.  You would then have the double pleasure of visiting someplace you've never been before.  Let me tell a story about clandestine sex. 

When we had become lovers, I didn't want to go through what my friend Li Hong had gone through, so I made Paul promise not to tell anyone that we were an item.  It meant that, for a couple of months, we didn't go out too often and we spent a lot of time on the telephone in our separate apartments. I don't even want to describe the things we talked about.  One very hot day during the week, Paul telephoned me and just whined about how hot his apartment was.  I suggested that he come over to my apartment and we could cool off in the swimming pool. 

Being a student, I couldn't afford air conditioning for the few hot days we have in Canada.  My apartment was just as hot as Paul's, too hot for sex that day.  We would just have a good time in the pool and a pizza on the balcony.  Little did I know what would happen. 

I was still shy with Paul at the beginning, so I changed into my bathing suit before he arrived.  It was the first two-piece bathing suit I ever owned.  I was very slim before I had Tanya so I was admiring myself in the full length mirror.  I was thinking what a nice body I had when Paul rang from the lobby.  When I opened the door, his mouth just dropped.  Paul is a writer but he seemed to be at a loss for words.  I just told him to change so we could cool down as fast as possible.  

I thought that Paul's trunks looked a little full but I didn't give it much thought.  The pool was in a separate building in our complex, covered so we could use it in the winter.  There wasn't any body else in the pool and no guard.  It occurred to me that nobody could see us but that wouldn't be a problem as we were both good swimmers. 

We went to the pool, jumped in and played around for a while, swimming between each other's legs, that kind of stuff.  It occurred to me that Paul was acting just like William Hurt in the pool scene from "Children of a Lesser God."  We had rented that movie a few weeks before and it was fresh in my mind.  As I said, we didn't go out much during those months.  Since Paul was William Hurt, I decided to be Marlee Matlin and play along. 

I dove between Paul's legs and rubbed his dick with my shoulder on the way up.  I came face to face and planted a kiss on his lips while still underwater.  Neither one of us can hold our breaths like William and Marlee so we quickly surfaced.  I looked around and we were still the only ones in the pool.  I realized that this was our chance to make love, since we were alone and we were cool in the water. 

"Paul, let's make love in the pool.  Nobody's around and it'll be much better than in my hot apartment.  I want to try sex in the swimming pool." 

We swam to a shallower point and I didn't waste any time pulling down Paul's trunks.  I had to reach inside his trunks and make sure his dick didn't interfere with his trunks on the way down.  Paul's dick was hard.  I'm not sure if the water created an optical illusion but his dick also looked bigger to me.  Paul pulled down the bottom of two piece and put his hand between my lips.  In this situation, it was irrelevant whether I was wet or not.  Paul's finger glided between my lips, lubricated by either the pool water or my own juices.  I think that it was a combination of both.  

Paul put his hands around me.  In the water, I just seemed to float on to his dick.  Underwater, a big dick like Paul's just slips in without any problem.  Instead of asking Paul to work his dick in slowly the way I usually like it, I pulled him to me so his dick was buried in one stroke.  I began to have second thoughts about what I started.  What if someone came to the pool and caught us in flagrante delicto?  I'm sure that, as an interracial couple, the scandal would be even greater.  Paul was enjoying his fantasy but I was too self-conscious to have an orgasm.  So, I squeezed his dick and he was so excited that he came immediately.  I pulled up Paul's trunks and got my bottoms on as fast as I could. 

Later, we ordered in a pizza and ate it on the balcony.  OK, maybe for me the sex in the pool didn't make me come and it was over faster than I like it.  I still thought it was great. You should have seen the smile on Paul's face that evening.  He was probably gloating that he had publicly screwed me without anyone seeing.  If I gave my man that much pleasure, it was as good to me as an orgasm.  Besides, sex on a day when you think you won't get it has to be better than no sex at all. 

So, you see what I mean about white guys liking sex when it's clandestine.  I've seen it in the movies and I've experienced it myself.  So, be innovative and use this period to take it slowly with Charles.  Make sure that when you get together with Charles and try something with Charles that you make it his idea.  He's still new to sex and you must build up his self-confidence.  No more advice.  I have to get back to Paul as his hockey game has ended.  I hope that this e-mail has been useful to you.  I'm really excited that you've found someone. 

Your Vietnamese friend
Tran Mei-ling

I shut down the computer, wondering what to make of the girl talk and Melinda's comments on white guys.  I had forgotten the fuck in the pool but now it came back to me.  I was afraid that Melinda hadn't enjoyed herself that day but now I saw that she actually did.  Vietnamese women just don't show their emotions like white women.  Well, there's another reason why Vietnamese women are such desirable creatures for us white guys..  Like guys, they just don't make a big thing about their emotions.



Mellow Yellow Ch. 13



As I checked the new e-mail, there was one with a strange address I had never seen before. I opened it up and started to read it.

To: 	"Tran Mei-Ling" 
From: 	"WonderNerd Cafe" 
Subject: 	We took your advice
Date sent: 	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Mei-Ling:

I am writing from an internet café in Hawaii so that should explain the strange e-mail address. I will explain why but I have such exciting news that I have to tell you right away. Remember how hopeless I thought my situation was? Now I believe this will all work out. Let me explain. After I got your last e-mail, I decided to retrieve Charles' file as soon as I went to work the next day. When I went to my records and I was quite perplexed that it wasn't in its proper place in the filing cabinet. So, I asked Ms. Yang (in Cantonese of course. I am trying to put this in English the best way I can):

"Ms. Yang. I want to add some material to Mr. Burnhamthorpe's file and I can't seem to find it here. Is your filing up to date?"

"Yes, well maybe. Mr. Burnhamthorpe's file is here." With that bit of backtracking, the little sneak brought Charles' file out of her desk drawer.

"May I ask what you are doing with a patient's file in your desk?"

"I just wanted his telephone number so I could call him up and maybe we could get together. I never get to meet any eligible men on this job. They're all too old or else they're complete head cases. Mr. Burnhamthorpe is the only man who has passed my desk that I would ever go out with."

"Don't you realize that there is more than telephone numbers in that file, you idiot? A doctor's office respects its patients' confidentiality, Ms. Yang." (OK, I was being a hypocrite but the situation required a verbal caning) 

"I thought he wasn't a patient anymore, since you said not to make any more appointments for Mr. Burnhamthorpe. Wasn't it all right?"

"Yes he is no longer a patient. No, it is not all right to look up confidential information in medical records. I suggest that you leave and find a job where you can meet men, if that's all you want out of work." With that, I grabbed the file out of her hands and showed her the door.

So I laid it on a bit thick but you were absolutely right about Ms. Yang, Mei-Ling. I don't know how you figured out from your home on the other side of our planet that she was a snake. After all, I'm the psychiatrist with all the answers and the human insight and I couldn't see what she was up to. Ms. Yang was harbouring thoughts about screwing Charles herself. Can you imagine what a disaster that would be? I am positive that Ms. Yang is as inept in bed as any white woman. Charles would be back in the same pitiful impotent state if she ever got her hands on his gorgeous willie. What would I ever be able to do for Charles if another Chinese woman destroyed the image of yellow women I was building up with him? One thing I was sure of was that, because she wanted Charles' telephone number, she hadn't read the file completely and she didn't know about his willie problems.

I don't feel bad about firing Ms. Yang because it worked out well for both of us. When she came for her final cheque, she said that she had a job in marketing and there were plenty of men in her office to chase. I guess she'll end up screwing, in her own incompetent way, a guy who wears a polyester suit to work and dreams of brand loyalty in his sleep. I found a replacement, Ms. Yin, and she is the complete opposite of Ms. Yang. She is kind to my patients, respectful to me and she loves her job. Anyway, my first problem, that of my secretary, was solved. 

I took the file home with me that evening. So nobody would ask what I was doing, I burned it in my hibachi when widow Chang was burning her hell money in the alley. Widow Chang was keeping our apartment safe from the evil spirits and I was keeping my career safe from exposure and disgrace. We both had noble objectives with our fires that evening. My second problem was solved.

You were wondering how to handle Dr. Leung? As luck would have it, a few days later I met him at the hospital while he was doing his rounds. Normally, I don't visit hospitals but one of my patients had gone off his meds and had slashed his wrists. I had to run down to the hospital and advise the staff on what to give him to keep him stable. I met Dr. Leung in the hall making the rounds of his willie patients and asked him if we could meet for tea when he was finished.

At tea, I tried to subtly discover whether he kept duplicate records and if he got a lot of English patients. He said that he didn't keep duplicates and he hated records and files. In any case, he wouldn't need to worry about files any more as he would be taking a teaching post in Singapore in a month. Dr. Wang would take his patients and all his files off his hands. A funny thought came to my head. Dr. Leung will be making all the willies of Singapore long and leaving the wangs of Hong Kong in Dr. Wang's hands. I know that I shouldn't be making fun of my urologist colleagues' names. After all, if they found out that I had an affair with one of their referrals, they would call me Dr. Fook.

Forget my playing with names. Isn't that great, Mei-Ling? Dr. Leung will never be able to turn me in from Singapore and Dr. Wang has no record of Charles Burnhamthorpe. In one month, nobody will be able to connect Charles and me as patient and doctor.

Charles and I agree with you that Chinese New Year will be the best time to go public. It's only a few months away and there are all kinds of parties where we can meet. Charles says that there is a trade exhibition of medical equipment in January a couple of weeks before the New Year. Charles says that this is a perfectly proper place for a doctor to "meet". a trade attaché. Being English, he wants us to be properly introduced. He has even told me how long we should exchange pleasantries before I ask him or he asks me to a New Year's party. After that, we become a number in Hong Kong society. These few months will be so hard to take.

So, what do we do as "underground" lovers. Well, we talk to each other every night on the telephone. I wish I could say that our conversations are worthy of two professionals who consider themselves above average intellectually. I am ashamed to say that most of our conversation is phone sex. Charles tells me in the most graphic terms and in great detail what he would do if he was with me in person.

"Susan, my hand is moving up the smooth inside of your soaking wet thighs to your tight, hairless little muffie. My index finger is on one lip and my ring finger is on the other. I am parting your lips and my middle finger....."

Then I tell him what I would do with him and his willie if I we were in the same room.

"Charles, I am drawing that hard white pole between your legs towards my mouth. Charles help me. It's so big that I can't get my fingers all around it. I don't know if it will fit in my mouth. I am opening wide...."

While we are fantasizing to each other, we play with ourselves and make love over the telephone. I hope that the Communists aren't tapping the telephones of Hong Kong citizens yet. Mei-Ling, I have always thought that, when a patient disclosed to me that he or she engaged in telephone sex, there was something very perverted about them. Now, I am doing the same thing with a white guy on the other side of Hong Kong. This love affair with Charles is making me a total hypocrite!

Still, telephone sex isn't the real thing. Charles' words can never substitute for his physical presence, how he makes me crazy with his caresses, his techniques. Yes, I missed Charles' gentle hands caressing my breasts and pulsating my clitoris. Most of all, I missed playing with Charles' willie and seeing it grow out of my clenched hand, turning from white to a brownish red colour. There is nothing like a willie, whether it's in the mouth or between the legs.

I was getting very restless for the Chinese New Year to arrive and I was so horny that it was interfering with my work. Then your letter came and that was a capital suggestion, to take a holiday together. I called Charles as soon as I got your letter and he agreed. During the period when his willie wasn't working, Charles tried to forget his misery by throwing himself into his work. He hadn't taken very much of his vacation allotment. He agreed that, now that I made him feel like a real man, he should take some time off. We both thought that an interracial couple wouldn't be noticed in Hawaii and it would be a nice change from the cool Hong Kong winter.

We made our arrangements at different travel agents and made sure that we stayed at different hotels. Charles took a flight a day earlier than me so that nobody would see us leave together. I had told Charles where to meet me and which hotel but he got this idea that he should make a surprise out of it. Is that typical of white guys, Mei-Ling? Do they like their surprises as much as they like their sex clandestine? Well, on my way to Hawaii, I experienced my typical two emotions. One was fear that Charles wouldn't find me when I arrived and I would be as lonely and sexually frustrated in Hawaii as I was in Hong Kong.

My second emotion was extreme horniness. I fantasized in my airplane seat, thinking of how, when I got to Hawaii, Charles and I would make love, try different positions and have all this time to ourselves without fear of being recognized. My fantasies made me so horny that once or twice I had to stop myself from putting my hand under my skirt. Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be to be discovered playing with myself in an airplane economy seat? I could just imagine the headlines in both the English and Chinese newspapers: "Local Psychiatrist Caught Doing Herself 10,000 Meters in the Air. New Way to Fly!"

I managed to keep my hands in view until we got to Honolulu. After collecting my luggage, and clearing Customs and Immigration, I took a taxi to the hotel, disappointed that Charles had not met me at the airport. Didn't that man realize how eager I was to be in his arms, to have his willie between my legs raising me to greater and greater heights of passion? Despite my anger at Charles, I could feel my panties become damp at my fantasies about our meeting.

The hotel is wonderful. I have a luxurious room with a view of Waikiki. I enjoyed the view for a few minutes, thinking of how Charles and I would spend hours in the surf, playing like children. My skin would turn brown from the sun, but what about Charles? I hoped that he had remembered his sunscreen so he could be as brown as me, not as red as a raspberry. Where was Charles? I began to be anxious because I had been in Honolulu for two hours and I was still without my beloved.

I decided to go for a walk and see if I could spot Charles on the street or at his hotel. I started to walk to Charles' hotel but I didn't realize how hot and humid Honolulu can be. I was dressed for winter in Hong Kong and I had stayed in my heels instead of changing to walking shoes. Well, I wanted to look my best for Charles, but where was that man? I decided to return to my hotel and wait there for Charles to get in contact with me. My back started to hurt as I wasn't used to walking in heels. I was totally uncomfortable now, tired, sore, thirsty, hot and horny.

When I got back to the hotel, I was so thirsty that I headed for the coolness of the lounge. I ordered a soft drink and listened to the elevator music. The lounge wasn't busy and my waiter decided to chat me up. Manuel was a Filipino who was studying at the University and only waited on tables in his spare time. He had beautiful brown skin and Malay good looks. Most Filipinos smile all the time but Manuel's smile was more than enjoying life. I think that he liked me and how I looked as much as I was enjoying him. Manuel knew how to talk to a lady and his conversation was so intelligent. In fact, Manuel was such a delicious morsel of chocolate that I began to seriously consider picking him up, if Charles didn't find me tonight. I was addicted to Charles' white willie but I had never sampled Pinoy penis. What if I was missing something? I know that he was too young for any kind of long term relationship but I wouldn't mind at all a one- or two-nighter with this guy. That's how desperate I was for a good lay.

I started to turn over in my mind how to get Manuel into my pants. I didn'y know much about Filipino men but I did know a little about Filipinas from the ones I treated in my psychiatry practice. To a woman, they are all hung up on sex. Filipinas are taught to regard a woman's beaver as a dirty thing and that sex is an equally dirty act. They are furthermore instructed to guard their virginity all their lives the same way Ferdinand Marcos guarded his money. It made me ponder, why there are so many people in the Philippines if the women want to stay a virgin all their lives?

I was sure that my handsome Filipino, Manuel, was equally virginal as his countrywomen. He would have never found a woman in his own country to part her legs for him and American women would never give him a second look, as he was shorter than most American men. He may have been a virgin but, being male, he would be a frustrated virgin. My diagnosis was that he was about twenty years old with a psychological problem know as acute sexual frustration. Conclusion? Would there be anyone better than Dr. Wu Sui-Beng, the best psychiatrist in Hong Kong, to cure his problem?

I was just about to steer the conversation towards what his plans were after work when he was called away to the bar. I noticed that my dear Manuel had a frown on his face when he returned with another soft drink in his hand.

"I didn't order another soda. Can you take that back and we'll continue our conversation?"

"I can't take it back. It's been paid for by that gentleman with the moustache at the end of the bar. He wants to know if you want his company. Look, he sounds English to me and you know what they're supposed to be like. (At this, the waiter gave me a couple of winks and a limp wrist) Shall I tell him that you're not interested and call the bouncer?"

I turned to see who my soda pop benefactor might be and there was Charles with a big smile on his face. "No, I know him. Please tell Mr. Burnhamthorpe to join me."

My waiter was now even more disappointed looking as Charles got up and walked over to my table holding a glass of foul-coloured, foul-tasting liquid, which I later learned is called stout. I want to tell you, Mei-Ling, the English taste in drinks is as bizarre as their taste in food. I asked the first question:

"Charles, where have you been? I've been getting frantic because I couldn't find you."

"I came to your hotel to surprise you after I found that you had checked in. When I got her, they told me you had gone out for a walk. So, I sat down to have a stout and then you walked in. Since you obviously didn't notice me, I decided to have a little fun and try and pick you up. But, you seemed to be having so much fun talking to the waiter that I didn't want to interrupt. I only intervened when I could tell from your body language that you were getting a little too interested in our young friend."

So, Charles had caught me flirting. Well, I went on the offensive and berated Charles for spying on me, which he realized was total blarney on my part. He didn't seem to be too put out by my little indiscretion. Charles said that he wouldn't have any woman that no other man showed any interest in. Don't think we were really angry with each other. We were both playing games. I was feigning anger and Charles was having his fun by keeping me waiting.

Once we finished our games, we talked for about an hour. Can I tell you something strange about us, Mei-Ling? When we can't be together, we both think just about sex and that's all we talk about on the telephone. When we are together, we are normal people, discussing just about anything and having a perfectly normal relationship. Finally, we had solved all the problems confronting Asian countries and Charles wanted my opinion on all the European crises. I couldn't stand it any more and whispered in Charles ear:

"Your place or mine, big English stud-muffin?"

I think that Charles was startled by my lack of subtlety, especially the way I had first seduced him with my sex therapist story. He hesitated only a second:

"Your place, of course. It's closer and we'll be fucking sooner, Chinese pick-up."

As we left the bar, I noticed that Manuel looked completely miserable. I was sorry to leave him frustrated. If I was only in Hong Kong, I could have found lots of Chinese women to take care of his problem. None of them would have the personal touch that Wu Sui-Beng would provide, of course. Sometimes, I wish I could cure all the sexual problems of the world. I would bring to life all the world's willies the way I had brought Charles back to life. I could even teach the white bitches how to make love to their men like a Chinese woman. If only I had the time. At the moment, Charles was my personal project and I had my hands full, literally, curing him of his sexual hangups.

We entered my room and we embraced passionately. Charles enfolded me in his strong arms and began undressing me. 

"Charles, my back is sore from walking on heels all evening. I will enjoy our lovemaking so much more if you could massage my back first."

I went and turned down the sheets on the bed and lay sideways, face down. The fresh sheet smell wafted up my nose. The smell seemed to say: "make love on us and we will gently enfold you and your lover with comfort." The linen encouraged my thoughts towards an evening of lovemaking as soon as the healing touch of my lover's hands restored my back to health. My beaver began to feel as wet as a rice paddy when I sensed Charles kneeling on the edge of the bed. Obviously Charles had quickly undressed because, as he crawled towards my back, I was thrilled as Charles willie caressed my heels. Yes, Charles' willie was growing in anticipation of its further journey between my legs.

Charles placed his hands on my back and gently worked them up and down my back, restoring each vertebra to its proper position. I thought that Japanese women were the world's leading experts on massage therapy. Tonight, Charles changed my mind about the supremacy of the Japanese. I mentally awarded Charles a black belt in the art of sexy massage. As he pressed my upper back, my breasts pressed into the bed. The pressure on my breasts were a small taste of what Charles' hands would soon perform. His hands worked gently up and down, back and forth smoothing away the tension from my body. I no longer was worried that Charles would find me. Now he was here and stroking my body into a sexual fury.

By now, Charles' willie was erect and standing straight out from his body like the lance of one of the knights of old. I would be the one impaled on the length of this weapon instead of one of the enemy. As Charles leaned forward and moved up my body to massage my neck, my white knight's lance rested on the crack of my bum. I was both thrilled and fearful at the same time. I had forgotten how long my knight's weapon was when ready for war and I was sure that it extended over my bum all the way to my waist. Well, the only action this weapon had seen was attacking the interior of Wu Sui-Beng. I was determined that the only flag that would be draped along its length would be the one bearing the Chinese characters forming my name.

Charles breathing accelerated and now his hands caressed the sides of my body, glided over my smooth golden skin, touching my shoulders, sliding past the edges of my breasts pressing into the bed and over my slim hips. My breathing matched Charles' in frequency and volume as he bent over to kiss my back. I thought, "The man is deliberately torturing me for flirting tonight. My back is cured. I must return the love that Charles shows me and atone for my slight indiscretion with Manuel."




Mellow Yellow Ch. 13



I begged Charles to let me up so I could smother him with as many kisses as he had planted on me. I wanted to taste his willie that had been tickling my back for 15 minutes. Instead of letting me turn over, Charles grabbed me by my hips and pulled my bum into the air.

"My God, woman. You're so slim you hardly have any hips. This will make things difficult."

On one hand, I was overjoyed that Charles had such confidence that he was now taking charge of our sex. On the other hand, I dreaded the thought that Charles might try to put his willie in my bum and sodomize me. Chinese women love to screw but sodomy is not part of our sexual culture. I was ready to scream "Stop", even if it would not be good for Charles' still fragile ego. Fortunately, Charles' willie glided past my bum and stopped on the outside of my outer lips. Charles wanted to do what you and Paul call a doggie.

Charles held his willie with one hand and parted my lips with his other hand. I was seeing all this upside down from the position my head was in. Absolutely fascinating. This was the first time that a man had ever screwed me from behind and I had a front-row seat to the show. I knew that Charles had also never done a doggie before so it was a first for both of us. The novelty of a first for us both made me feel like a virgin again, if you will forgive me quoting Madonna. Well, if I had picked up Manuel, I would have had a virgin that night as well.

My thoughts on our mutual virginity were interrupted by the enormous pressure in my vagina as I felt as Charles' huge willie enter me. It was pressure that I would describe as almost hurting. I hadn't felt anything like this since my Léo deflowered me, years ago in Canada. Again, I wanted to scream "Stop!" Why was I feeling like this? It wasn't for lack of lubrication. I had a wet beaver since my flight left Hong Kong in anticipation of this moment. Charles had properly prepared me and turned me on. I was so wet that the sheet was becoming damp around my thighs. I was begging for his enormous willie. No, it was not my fault that I was uncomfortable; it was the new position we were trying. You should have warned me, Mei-Ling, that a woman is much tighter when she has sex in the doggie position. Since a yellow woman is normally tight, Charles must have thought that I disappeared down there.

Charles must have sensed my discomfort as he withdrew, saying: "Susan, am I getting this right? Are you relaxed? You feel tighter than ever."

I had to build up Charles' confidence and make him continue: "No, don't stop Charles. It's wonderful. (OK, I am getting comfortable with lying these days) Just slide your willie in slowly so I can feel every centimeter."

Charles started to push again and this time, there was less discomfort. In fact, it was starting to feel very good indeed. Charles slid his willie in as far as before and then withdrew a little. This seemed to open me a little more and he slid in his willie a little more. I thought I would feel the pain again as Charles forced his way in me deeper and deeper but I only felt the delicious full, spread apart feeling that his enormous willie always gave me. I felt the top ridge of his willie pass my cervix and hit my G-spot. I gasped and I think I screamed in orgasm.

Charles stood his ground and then continued working his willie further inside me and spreading me apart until I was completely impaled on his lance. Charles began the rhythm that I was by now familiar with. He withdrew most of his willie and then slid it back in me slowly. As I stretched a little, Charles picked up the pace and shortened his strokes. Then, he reached underneath his willie and touched my exposed clitoris. I exploded in orgasm again. I must have tightened so much that Charles came at the same time as me. I just don't know how long my orgasm lasted, maybe minutes. I just became aware of Charles' breathing returning to normal and his willie starting to soften within me.

Charles finally pulled out his willie from me. I watched this fascinating operation. I think it is amazing how much willie I can fit inside me. As Charles tip fell out, a string of sperm still connected we two lovers. Finally it snapped and the slimy feel of the string on my thigh was all I had left of Charles. The show was over. I rolled over and faced my lover for the first time since undressing. I had tears in my eyes, not from my initial pain but from the joy of being reunited and having great sex again. I hadn't lied to my lover that night. The doggie sex was wonderful. I was so exhausted, emotionally and physically, that I fell asleep as soon as I closed my tear-stained eyes. I had no need to count sheep, or doggies, to fall asleep.

I slept well in Charles' arms that night. I used to think that I was too short or Charles was too tall. Now that I see how well we fit together when we are sleeping, I think that we are exactly right for each other. Mei-Ling, that was the first time that we spent a whole night together. In fact, it was the first time that I slept with any man. The opportunity never arose with Léo. As for the others, either I left as soon as it was over or they left without having to be asked. Perhaps casual sex is not as good as sex when in love? I can't say for sure but I never wanted to sleep with any man, other than Léo. That night, I was a well-fucked woman, very much in love and at peace in my lover's arms.

The next morning, I got out of bed before Charles and I drew a bath for myself. I suddenly realized that I hadn't taken a bath since I left Canada. Mei-Ling, please don't think that my personal hygiene has slipped since my student days. My apartment is so small that there is only room for a shower stall. A bath would be a rare luxury for me. As I was relaxing in the tub, I realized that I was soaking Charles' precious fluids from inside me. I was sad that I could not keep them forever to remind me of his presence. 

Charles entered the bathroom and asked if he could shave while I was bathing. I looked up and he was completely naked. Charles' willie was flaccid but it still dangled well below his testicles. I motioned to Charles to come over and to kneel by the tub. I climbed partly out and kissed his willie. I breathed in our combined smells on his unwashed willie. I almost had the urge to lick the tip like an ice cream cone. Maybe by the end of the week, we will be so familiar that I can do something like that. It is so good to have Charles so close even if it is only for a week.

The Internet café is closing and I must now send off this letter. I will write more about our vacation, Mei-Ling, as soon as I can.

Aloha my dear friend
Sui-Beng

I closed the letter and leaned back in my chair. I pondered how long it had been since Melinda and I had been on a holiday. Now, if I arranged baby-sitting for Tanya and called up our travel agent for tickets to Hawaii...



Mellow Yellow Ch. 14



Another letter from Susan written while she and Charles were on vacation. What would she be telling Melinda in this letter?

To: "Tran Mei-Ling" 
From: "Wondernerd Cafe" 
Subject: Revenge on the Japanese
Date sent: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Mei-Ling:

I'm back in the internet café. I hope that nobody looks at what I'm writing because this has to be the greatest vacation of my life. The sex is great, plentiful and varied. So far, I've had a doggie, a wall job and oral sex but I am getting ahead of myself. Charles is becoming more and more confident with his willie. That means sex with Charles is getting better and better, something I never thought possible.

Yesterday, I decided that we really needed to go down to the beach and get some sun. Yes, I know that the Chinese believe that dark skin colour is the sign of a peasant. However, if neither Charles nor I return with a darker colour, our colleagues and friends would reason that we had been spending all our vacation in a hotel room rather than at Waikiki. I don't know about Charles' male friends but my women friends would relentlessly question me about the lover I had spent so much time with that I hadn't gone to the beach.

After your story about wearing the bikini to the swimming pool, I went and bought a skimpy one especially for this trip. I had tried it on in the dressing room at the store but things seemed different now that I was at a beach resort and about to wear it out in public. It's not that I have anything to be ashamed about as far as my body goes. I am petite but well proportioned. My breasts may be small but the bikini top was even smaller. Yes, the bathing suit revealed my body to its best advantage. Call me shy but I had never revealed so much of my body before in public. I hesitated whether to call off our beach trip when the phone rang. Charles voice shook me out of my indecision:

"Susan, my love. I'm waiting downstairs in the lobby. What's keeping you?"

I couldn't keep my lover waiting. My pride in how I looked and my desire to impress Charles with my body took over. I grabbed my beach towel, put on a robe in a determined manner, went down to the lobby and collected Charles. We walked across what seemed like endless sand until we found a place not too far from the water. The sight of other women with similarly revealing bathing suits made me feel better about being semi-naked.

Charles let his beach coat drop to the ground, challenging me to do the same. Charles' bathing suit was almost a thong. I and only I knew what the bulge in his bathing suit contained. This thought made my bikini wet and I hadn't even touched the water yet. I adopted the pose of a high fashion model and let my beach coat drop, I heard Charles whistle but I had my eyes on a growing bulge in his trunks. Charles liked what he saw as much as I liked how he looked.

I grabbed my bottle of sunscreen and started to slather Charles body with oil. It was so exciting to run my hands over Charles body in public. This was a pleasure that had been private but now I could rub his hairy chest in public. Charles then rubbed my body with the same lotion and I was even more thrilled. Charles' bulge grew visibly and I hoped that no other woman was watching it the way I was. I had plans for that bulge. 

First we had to get some sun and get rid of our pasty winter colour. After lying on our beach towels for a while, we went in the water for a frolic. Mei-Ling, don't go to Waikiki if you want to play with your lover under the water. I think we must have walked halfway back to Hong Kong when we finally were waist deep. We swam a little and I discreetly caressed Charles' bulge. It was getting big and hard. I decided that we had enough sun and water for today.

I asked Charles if he wanted to come back to my hotel and shower off the salt, rather than going all the way back to his hotel. Charles' smile was cute and sexy but it left me unprepared for what was about to happen. As the door of my room shut, Charles firmly put my back to the wall and placed a kiss on my lips. This was followed by a more passionate kiss and then he forced his tongue in my mouth. Charles had never been so aggressive to me until now. I was so taken aback by this display that I didn't notice that he had somehow undone the strings for my bikini top until I sensed that my erect nipples were against Charles ribs. I was excited what seemed to be minimal foreplay. Then I remembered how we had fondled each other in the water and I realized that that had been our foreplay. This was not rape. This was long, drawn-out lovemaking.

Charles bent down and undid the strings to my bikini, letting it fall to the ground. While kneeling, he pulled his own bathing suit down and displayed his erect manliness. As he stood up, Charles' willie was hard and erect, like the markers around the island where the unfortunates had been swept to sea. Just as the people were swept to sea against their will, I was being swept along by waves of passion for Charles.

Without a word, Charles put his hands on my bum and lifted me up effortlessly. I put my arms around his neck and my legs seemed naturally to open and curl around his back. Then Charles lowered me on to his willie but nothing happened as his wide, blunt tip couldn't go past my tight lips. Well, we were both inexperienced at this position but I managed to reach down and spread myself apart. I was afraid that I might be dry but, to my delight, I was very wet, not from the ocean but from my excitement at Charles' aggressiveness.

With my lips now open, Charles willie slid down between my inner lips and found the opening to my vagina. My weight forced Charles' willie in a few centimeters, allowing my free hand to control how much of Charles entered. From his apparent lack of foreplay, I knew that Charles was in a rush to bury his willie as far and as fast as it would go in. I wanted to prolong Charles entry, to enjoy the delicious spreading apart of my inner being that his willie always brought me. No matter how many times we fuck, I seem to always return to my former tight dimensions, forcing Charles' willie to fight for its place within me.

I slowly let Charles creep inside until he was halfway in. I couldn't stand the excitement of the slow entry and I let go of the willie and started to run my finger along the tip of my clitoris to force an orgasm. That was the trigger and I screamed in joy as the wonderful feeling of an orgasm rolled over me. When my orgasm subsided, I discovered that Charles' willie was buried completely inside me. I felt completely depleted, unable to have another orgasm, completely fucked out.

As Charles slowly withdrew his willie, I grabbed Charles with both my arms and drew him closer as well as to hang on. As Charles slowly reentered me, I could feel the shaft of his willie sliding over my now swollen clitoris, restimulating me to an orgasm. I realized that I wasn't fucked out; I would come again and again, if only Charles could last and keep up the pace. With each stroke, Charles raised me to a higher level of excitement than before. If I was on waves of passion, the waves were coming much more frequently and the storm of my orgasm was not far from shore.

Charles strokes became faster and faster until I felt I was being pounded into the wall. My legs jiggled in the air in time to the pounding I was receiving. Finally, My clitoris was stimulated into another orgasm, tightening the muscles around my vagina. That brought Charles to orgasm and we both screamed from our simultaneous orgasms. I think I came not a moment too soon. I felt the warm sperm squishing inside my vagina as Charles slowly kneeled down and then collapsed on his back with me on top.

I realized that we hadn't put out the "do not disturb" sign so I got off Charles more quickly than the wonderful man deserved. I know that nobody in Honolulu knows us but I wouldn't want to embarrass the chambermaid with us both lying naked on the floor. I found the sign, reached out with my bare arm and put it on the doorknob, to preserve our private moment.

That evening, when Charles asked me where I would like to eat, I suggested that we eat at a Japanese restaurant. I can eat Chinese food all the time in Hong Kong and I never became used to Western fast food when I was in Canada. Charles suggested a restaurant near his hotel so I met him there. I can see now that my decision was a mistake because I nearly lost Charles during our trip to that Japanese restaurant. Don't get me wrong, the meal was great, fresh tropical fish caught locally and served with mounds of fiery wasabi. When we finished our sushi. Charles asked:

"I think I would like dessert. How about you, my love?"

"I'm not hungry, but if you want dessert, I suggest you wait until later. I have something for you that tastes exquisite."

"I think you have something up your sleeve, Susan"

I did have something in mind from long ago with my first white lover. I wasn't sure if the English liked oral sex the way the French do. I know that Léo loved to eat my beaver. Léo had made me a connoisseur of tongue on the clitoris. Do you think that this is why I like white guys? I had to see if Charles would go down on me the way my French lover had. 

With the matter of dessert postponed, we left the dining room and wandered into the karaoke bar for some entertainment. This was the real thing, mostly Japanese doing exactly what they would be doing at the local pub in Tokagawa. Except for a few Aussies, we were the only non-Japanese there. We sat down at a table near the front so I could show off my lover to everyone in the bar. Three Japanese women immediately asked us if they join us so they could see better. Not wanting to be rude, Charles and I agreed. I forget their names so I will just call them Keiko, Meiko and Seiko. 

Really, Mei-Ling, I should have known better. What Keiko, Meiko and Seiko wanted wasn't better seats for the karaoke show. They wanted Charles and his big white willie. The Japanese women blatantly began to ignore me and started hitting on Charles. They flattered Charles in the most obvious and childish ways. "Charles-san so funny. Charles-san have such nice moustache. Charles-san this and Charles-san that." The worst of it was that Charles seemed to be enjoying the attention. Was this because I had paid too much attention to my Filipino waiter a few days before? Was I being punished for My little indiscretion? I think the final straw was when they asked Charles to get up and sing "Unchained Melody" to the three of them, not to me.

Me-Ling, you would have snapped too, if you had been there and it was Paul singing to three other yellow women. I began to worry about what Paul told you about yellow women, that once a white guy has had his willie in one, yellow women would be all he would want to fuck the rest of his life. Had I cured Charles of his impotence just to prepare a gift for these three? I wanted Charles to have a taste for yellow women but I wanted it to be this yellow woman.

I started to look over the Japanese invaders on my turf. Meiko, Keiko and Seiko were taller than I was, almost as tall as Charles in their platform shoes. Their faces were heavily made up with pale makeup, as if they really wanted to be white. I looked closely at their eyes and each one had the operation to make their eyes more round. Now, I was positive, these Japanese women were trying to be white women. Well, if they were trying to be white and Charles' taste ran to yellow women, he wouldn't be interested. Furthermore, they probably fucked the same way white bitches do, in a totally incompetent manner. It would be a disaster if they ever got their hands on Charles' willie.

Meiko, Keiko and Seiko dressed identically in halter tops and hip-hugger jeans. Their bare midriffs exposed acres of yellow flesh from their tits to their crotches, broken only by a perfect navel. If they were white wannabes, they had forgotten to whiten their stomachs and arms. Their jeans were tight and outlined their little hairless beavers between a wide crotch gap between their thighs. They were obviously younger than me and that made me more concerned. Did Charles like real, mature women or did he like overgrown teenagers like these three? I sensed danger in my white wannabes, Meiko, Keiko and Seiko.

Meiko, Keiko and Seiko said they came from Hamamatsu and worked in an office. I confirmed this when the one I call Keiko got up. Young as she was, her bum was already widening into a Secretary's Bottom. These women were mere clerks and they were trying to steal a psychiatrist's lover. They would be no match for Wu Sui-Beng in either intellect or bitchiness. My opportunity to get rid of them came when the one I call Meiko went to the bathroom. Meiko spoke the best English and seemed to be the leader of this flock of hovering hawks, hoping to sink their claws into my white rooster.

I got up and followed, keeping an eye on Charles and the other two Japanese women. As I entered the otherwise deserted women's toilet, it wasn't difficult to figure out which stall Meiko was occupying. It was the one at the end with the continuously flushing noises. Honestly, Mei-Ling, I don't know what goes on in the heads of Japanese women. Don't they want us to know that they pee just like the rest of us? I pretended to be fixing my makeup when Meiko emerged. I thought I should start talking because the three of them had been treating me as if I were invisible until now.

"So what do you think of the gai-jin with me?" I asked. Meiko took the bait.

"Charles-san very good looking. Talk nice to us. You think Charles-san want to come skinny dip with us at beach, maybe take shower with us in hotel after? We have good shit in hotel room, grass, ecstasy, nose candy. Maybe we get Charles-san do three women, maybe four women, you come with us? Say, I bet Charles-san have nice big chin-po."

So, they did have their own plans for "Charles-san" and they were hoping that I would get lost. No, they wouldn't mess up my plans for this evening and my plans definitely didn't include these three. I decided to launch my plan that I had been hatching while I was ignored by Meiko, Keiko and Seiko.

"Yes, it's really big." I held my hands four centimeters further apart than Charles' willie really was. Then, I made a circle with both my thumbs and forefingers. I know, Mei-Ling, that you told me to never advertise Charles' assets or his skills, especially to another yellow woman. However, this was an emergency and it was part of my plan to get rid of these three bimbos. I was setting the hook for an even bigger lie.

Meiko's eyes grew wide at my pantomime description of Charles lovely willie. All she could say was "Futomara" and "Ichiban." I decided that this was the moment to reel in my fish.

"Of course, I'm only guessing at how big it is when it's erect. Really, I've only seen Charles-san's chin-po during strip searches." 

"What you mean strip search? What Charles-san do? He in jail? Who you? You be narc?"

"No, Charles-san wasn't in jail. Let me explain. Charles-san is a paranoid schizophrenic on leave from the Hong Kong Institute for the Criminally Insane. I said I was a psychiatrist but I work with the Hong Kong Penal Service as a psychiatrist. If Charles-san is properly treated, we believe that he can be re-integrated into society and overcome his paranoia."

"You say Charles-san crazy? What him do?"

"He killed a Japanese tourist on the subway who he claimed was sending telepathic thoughts to him and humming J-pop songs in his brain. Yes, he can be a real nutter."

"But Charles-san better now? Why you let him out? He still hear voice."

"We think we have his dosage right. He hasn't had any delusions or heard any voices recently."

"What delusion?"

"Well, he believes that the Japanese tourist he killed had three lesbian daughters. He is sure that they're searching for him to avenge their father's death. Being paranoid, it's logical in his mind that he should get 'them' before 'they' get him. I'm perfectly safe with him because I'm Chinese. However, my instructions were to keep him away from Japanese women in case his delusion came back. I do hope so very much that his paranoia concerning Japanese women doesn't resurface this evening. However, it's getting late and he hasn't had any pills since supper."

I could see Meiko's yellow face turn white, even under all that garish pale makeup. I swear she muttered something like "Ah-so." Meiko raced out of the bathroom and, by the time I got back to the table, Meiko, Keiko and Seiko were in an animated all-Japanese conversation. I could see, even in the dim light of the bar, that Keiko and Seiko were turning white at Meiko's news. Abruptly, the three women got up and bowed in unison. Seiko looked at her watch. Meiko explained:

"Must go now. Get telephone calls from all our fathers. Fathers be alive. No be sisters. All us like men. No like lady. You take pills Charles-san. Sayonara."

They backed out of the bar, bowing all the way and keeping an eye on Charles. Once out the door, I could see them turn and run down the street as fast as their platform shoes would allow. Charles appeared to be astounded by this turn of events.

"Really extraordinary. They were such nice young ladies. Whatever got into them to make them leave like that? And they hardly made sense when they left."

I just smiled. "The Japanese are quite different people from we Chinese. I think you're just beginning to understand."

"I'm not sure I will ever understand the Mysterious Orient. Especially my own oriental lover." 

Charles had another Kirin. He claimed it washed the raw fish taste out of his mouth better than Guinness. Finally, I touched Charles' hand and whispered in his ear:

"Charles. I want us to fuck in your room tonight. It's closer."

Charles couldn't resist an invitation like that. He paid the bill and we went less than a block to Charles hotel. I was excited as we would be trying something new in a place I had never seen. We entered Charles' room and I was astonished to see how small it is. The view from the window was another hotel. It was as if the world's most beautiful beach didn't exist.

"Charles, this is terrible. You're paying almost exactly what I am and the room isn't half as good."

"Yes, Americans are strange people. They assign their hotel rooms on the basis of prestige rather than on the basis of value. All you are seeing is that Americans respect a doctor more than a government bureaucrat. Then they have the gall to accuse we English of being class-conscious."

Well, the room was small but the bed was king size and that was my objective for the evening. The chambermaid had turned down the sheets and placed a chocolate on the pillow, suggestively packaged a condom. Who knows, maybe the chambermaid had her eye on Charles, like Ms. Yang and Meiko, Keiko and Seiko. Maybe the management offered pay-for-play women in addition to the dirty movies on the TV. Charles sensed the direction my mind was taking and embraced me with soft kisses. Then Charles began slowly undressing me. Every piece of clothing removed exposed more of my golden skin to my white lover. Charles greeted every new exposure with light kisses. Finally, I stood naked in front of my lover, tingling from his worshipful kisses all over my body.

Charles lifted me as effortlessly as he had in the morning and gently laid me on the bed. He then slowly undressed himself, never taking his eyes from me. He got into bed beside me and pulled me towards him. Charles then proceeded to make slow, passionate love to me. The light kisses to my lips became forceful penetrations of my mouth by Charles' tongue.

Unlike the fury of the morning when Charles took me on the wall, we made slow, passionate love. Charles would never get the careful attention from any white bitch that I give him. I kissed his arms, shoulders, caress his chest hairs – how can a white bitch give this sort of attention to her man when she lies flat on her back with her legs rigid like a pair of chopsticks beside a plate?




Mellow Yellow Ch. 14



Charles responded to all the care and attention I gave him. He kissed me in return, kiss for kiss, every spot that I kiss. After all, how will an inexperienced man like Charles to know what to do unless I show him what a woman likes? While I played with Charles' hairy chest, he caressed my tiny breasts and gently played with my nipples. Mei-Ling, my breasts are the only part of my body I am ashamed of. I wish that my breasts were equally as impressive as Charles willie. Maybe that's why we are so attentive to our man. Maybe we don't want them to notice our tiny boobies?

I put my hand on Charles' willie. Of course, he couldn't put his hand on my willie but that was my signal that I wanted him to play with my parts. Mei-Ling, touch a man's willie as gently as you want him to touch your clitoris. Some men don't "get it" but Charles is not like that. He moved his finger ever so gently up towards my clitoris, never pressing hard. I can never resist and I started to squeal with delight, culminating in a screaming orgasm. Charles stopped caressing my clitoris and let my orgasm subside.

"Woman, don't leave your best work on my fingers. I want your tight little pussy squeezing the juice out of my willie."

"Not yet, Charles. It's time for your dessert. I want your tongue to do to me what your finger just did. Have my pussy for dessert. Lick me like I'm an ice cream cone."

When I asked my Chinese lovers to practice oral sex on me, I always got a look of disgust from them, as if they thought I was dirty there or I tasted bad. Maybe they think oral sex is perverted? Charles wasn't at all like that. He just dove between my legs as if he was diving into a pool filled with Guinness. His arms wrapped around my thighs and he spread my legs apart. Charles' tongue parted my lips and I felt his warm, wet tongue slide towards my vagina. Charles tongue stopped just above my vagina and then slowly glided up between my inner lips, stopping just below my clitoris. It was the exact place his finger stopped. The soft, wet feel of Charles' tongue made me even crazier than his finger.

Charles' tongue returned to the bottom of my inner lips and then glided upwards again, ever so slightly faster this time. Charles stopped every time short of the tip of my clitoris, raising my desire but stopping short of putting me over the top into orgasm. A tongue is wider than a finger and as it went up between the inner lips, so you feel it along the whole length of the inner lips. A man's tongue seems gives acres of satisfaction more than a finger. I felt that exquisite softness in greater and greater waves as Charles started to lick faster and faster. Charles was good at this. I didn't need to teach him a thing.

I squealed with delight as I felt another orgasm build. Charles took this as his signal to start licking the tip of my clitoris. That put me over the top and my squeals of delight turned to a high-pitched shriek. I had an exquisite release of my passion in another explosive orgasm.

When I came down to earth, Charles had his willie in his hand and was starting to put it in me. I must have been gloriously wet. Normally, I am tight after coming but Charles entered without any effort. Charles penetrated the first few centimeters without effort. I could feel Charles as I never felt him before. Charles began to withdraw as if he wanted to play at the entrance of my vagina.

"No Charles. I don't want to play. I want all of you NOW. Give me all of your willie and then fuck me hard and strong."

To emphasize my desire for willie, I brought up my legs and started to force Charles in with my feet on his bum. Charles entered me completely in one long, smooth stroke, taking his time despite my urging him on. It was an exquisite feeling, being filled up without ceasing, the feeling building and building relentlessly. I was still excited from Charles eating me that I had an orgasm before Charles was completely inside. I was afraid that all my twitching and contracting would make Charles come. There was no need to be afraid. When I finally ceased my orgasm, Charles was buried completely inside. The man had learned control.

Now Charles began his rhythmic withdrawals and then returned. It was bizarre. No sooner had my orgasm ended than it began to build again with each of Charles' strokes. Charles' had prepared me so well with his tongue that that I couldn't stop coming. The tension built higher and higher as Charles willie went faster and faster in and out. Finally I snapped and started to scream and scream, in what language I don't know. All I know is that I thought I would die, or explode from the intensity of the orgasm. I only stopped after Charles had come himself and his willie softened.

"Charles, you looked like you enjoyed yourself so much. You're really an expert the way you do it. Why didn't you ask? Why haven't you pleasured me before this way? That was so good!".

"Susan, I thought that Chinese women didn't like oral sex and that's why I never asked."

"No, Chinese woman have the same sexual response as any woman. We respond to a tender, loving man, no matter what he does. But I thought that the English didn't like oral sex and that's why I never asked."

"No, my darling. The French like to think they have a monopoly on oral sex but that's not true. All men like oral sex, no matter where they're from. It's so intimate. And any man would want to eat a woman like you, especially if he found out what a tasty dish you have between your legs. Did you know that your muffie tastes much better than a white woman's muffie?"

So that's why white guys develop a "taste" for yellow women. Not only do we fuck better but we actually taste better during oral sex. Here I thought I was teaching Charles all about sex but he taught me something last night. Mei-Ling, the next time a white woman shows you any disrespect, just smile and relish the thought that your muffie tastes better than hers.

My vacation, as you can see, is taken up entirely with restoring Charles to his full sexual potential. I consider it just an extension of the therapy that we began two months ago. I suppose that I should be happy that he has such confidence that I was afraid that he would leave me for a groupie with the three Japanese women.

I will have you even more to tell when I return. I hope that Paul is taking care of your needs as well as Charles is taking care of mine this week.

Your orally satisfied friend
Sui-Beng

I turned off the computer. I thought about Charles discovering the exquisite taste of a yellow woman. I never told Melinda how good she tasted. Somehow, tonight would be the night that I corrected that oversight.



Mellow Yellow Ch. 15



We came home from the movie and sent Tanya's babysitter on her way. It was still too early to go to bed. Melinda suggested that I go and get any e-mail that had come in, especially if it was from Susan. Melinda had started to share with me her "girl talk" from her friend in Hong Kong, especially since Susan began an affair with a white guy. Melinda said that both friends having white lovers brought the two of them closer together. Susan's stories about her sexual adventures aroused Melinda to my benefit. I must admit that I got off on her stories as well and tonight's e-mail was no exception. I brought the e-mail and Melinda began to read, stretched out on the couch with her head in my lap.

To: "Tran Mei-Ling"  
From: "Wu Sui-Beng"  
Subject: Gung Hai Fat Choi 
Date sent: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Mei-Ling:

Finally my affair with Charles is in the open. I can see Charles as often as I want now without worrying about our careers. Now, you should tell my brother that I wrote to you that I have a boyfriend here in Hong Kong. I know that he won't be pleased that Charles is white. However, he will not say anything to your face because of Paul. It will make it easier for me if you could tell him. 

The process of "going public" was not without some "unpleasantness" as Charles would term it but what we Chinese would term racial prejudice. Let me start with how we became "properly introduced." As Charles instructed me, I joined a group of doctors touring a trade fair of medical equipment. I try and avoid these trade fairs because most of the devices are not useful in psychiatry. However, the new brain imaging devices I thought might be useful in determining whether my patients had hardware or software problems. Well, I am not writing to discuss equipment that your hospital probably already has.

At the end of our tour, the Colonial Office put on a presentation on importing expensive medical devices into Hong Kong. Guess who was presenting? Charles, of course. As much as I love Charles, trade and economics has always bored me. As Charles spoke of "gaining entry" and "market penetration," all I could think of was Charles gaining entry to my panties and penetrating me with his great big willie. As I was pleasantly daydreaming about sex, I suddenly realized Charles was looking at me and asking,:

"Is there anyone who can help me translate 'Most Favoured Nation' into Cantonese?"

I woke up from my sexual fantasy. Charles was giving me my cue to introduce myself to him. I stood up and said:

"I am Dr. Susan Wu Sui-Beng and I studied overseas in Canada. I believe that the Cantonese term you require is….."

So, every time a difficulty with a term arose, Charles would turn to me and ask Dr. Wu's Cantonese advice. When Charles had finished with the Colony's trade regulations, he came over and profusely thanked me for my help. Then he asked me if I would join him for tea with his colleagues. Well, I have never liked Darjeeling tea; it just doesn't compare to Chinese oolong. I endured the English concept of tea merely to carry through our charade and look as if we had never met before but I was being swept off my feet by Charles. The things I must do to get Charles into bed with me.

Furthermore, I found this whole situation, having tea and pretending that we had just met, quite awkward. Quite often when Charles would ask me something about myself, I had to stop myself from saying something like: "Charles, you idiot, we talked about that last month." Finally, Charles asked me, in front of all his friends, if I had any plans for Chinese New Year. Then he said that he would like to bring me to the Anglo-Chinese Friendship Society's New Year banquet. So, it was all over in an hour, our official meeting, introduction and chatting me up in front of others.

I had some business at the British Colonial Office a week before Chinese New Year and my first "date" with Charles. My youngest sister has decided that she doesn't want to follow in the medical footsteps of our family. Mei-Ling, my brother is a doctor, my father is a doctor, my grandfather was an acupuncturist, my great-grandfather was a herbalist, and I don't know how many generations our medical history goes back. Now, my youngest sister says she wants to study European art. Well, she always was a little bit rebellious. After she was accepted at Oxford, she came to me and asked my advice. She wanted to know what visas to get and how to find a place to stay in Oxford. I knew the ropes of studying abroad, so I took her to the Colonial offices and guided her through the paperwork.

My sister eventually signed all the proper papers and the clerk told her that her student visa would be sent in due course. Then she left to tell her heartbroken boyfriend that they would need to spend four years apart. I don't think they are sleeping together yet. My father has been keeping a tight leash on her since I came back to Hong Kong. Probably my one-nighters were not as discrete as I thought? Mei-Ling, it would serve my father right if my sister returned from England with a healthy appetite for men, especially the white variety of men. It occurred to me that, since she was now asking my advice, I should discuss with her important things like birth control and how to tell when a man is lying. For sure, our mother never discussed things like that with me. Why should I expect her to educate my young sister any differently?

After my sister left, I was alone in the Colonial Office with an hour to kill before my hospital rounds. I decided to wander up to the Commercial Section's floor and pay Charles a visit. I know that I was not dressed as glamorous as Charles might like but my patients seem to prefer their doctor to be unfashionable. The thicker the doctor's glasses, the better. In fact, I think I looked a fright in my hospital shoes and my hair tied in a bun that day.

I went to where I was directed and found Charles' office guarded by a severe-looking white woman. She was one of those pretty women whose good looks can't cover a bad attitude. She did her best to ignore me by averting her eyes and showing more interest in what was on her computer than the human being in her presence. I decided to make the best of my time and looked over her and her desk. The nameplate on this insolent woman's desk read Daphne Shagnasty. Other than that, her desk was empty, devoid of paper. For all I knew, she was playing a computer game or surfing the net on the computer that separated Miss Shagnasty from me. Goodness knows, there wasn't any evidence that she was doing real work. Finally, I had enough of being ignored. I decided to try and get her attention.

"Excuse me Miss Shagnasty?"

She looked up from her computer, gave me a cold stare and said, in the most condescending manner that only the English can master:

"It's pronounced 'Shaughnessy,' my dear. May I ask you what you're doing here?"

So that was her problem. She didn't think Chinese had any business visiting the Commercial Section. Well, I wasn't going to let any lazy secretary put down Wu Sui-Beng. So, I very confidently said:

"I wish to see Mr. Charles Burnhamthorpe. I was told that this is his office. Can you please tell him that Susan Wu would like to talk to him personally?"

"Mr. Burnhamthorpe is in a meeting and will not be available all morning. What is your business with Charlie?"

"I believe Mr. Burnhamthorpe prefers Charles from his friends or Mr. Burnhamthorpe from someone of your status. An employee such as you should treat Mr. Burnhamthorpe with the respect he deserves. As for my business, Mr. Burnhamthorpe has invited me to the New Year's party of the Anglo-Chinese Friendship Society. I merely wish to discuss the arrangements with him."

I thought that mentioning her shortcomings publicly would make her lose face completely and give me the upper hand. I didn't know that I had a very wily opponent in Miss Shagnasty.

"Oh, so you're Charlie's date for the party. I suppose he couldn't do any better than someone like you. Charlie has a problem getting it up, don't you know? Or I suppose you don't if you haven't tried to make it with him. You Chinese are so slow when it comes to sex."

That did it, Mei-Ling! I now had three reasons to dislike Charles' secretary. Not only was she a lazy and disrespectful employee, not only was she prejudiced against Chinese but she was one of those white bitches who had made sweet, gentle Charles so miserable through their sexual aggression. Quite obviously she had lured Charles into her filthy bed sometime in the past and tried to screw my dear Charles. No wonder Charles had psychological impotence. No thinking man would ever stick his willie into this evil white woman. Undoubtedly she was insulted when Charles couldn't get it up and told everyone who knew Charles that he has a soft willie. Miss Shagnasty made Charles lose face and she had no shame about the harm she had done to Charles' psyche and his reputation. I was face to face with the enemy.

Fortunately, she didn't know that she was dealing with Wu Sui-Beng, Doctor of Psychiatry. I decided not to retaliate immediately. After all, I hadn't done so well by trying to match barbs with this woman. No, Miss Shagnasty would receive my revenge in the slow tortuous manner for which we Chinese are famous. I would bring all my psychological skills to bring about the downfall of this white bitch. I would play with her mind as subtly and as relentlessly as Charles plays with my muffie.

"Can you just tell Mr. Burnhamthorpe that Susan Wu stopped by? Tell him that I will call him tonight"

As I left, I kowtowed in Ms. Shagnasty's direction. Obviously, she didn't know that today's Chinese hate kowtowing. I would use this fact that Ms. Shagnasty knew nothing about Chinese people to her disadvantage. A kowtowing Chinese appears to be the most harmless of beings but inside they are really plotting a sinister revenge.

I decided not to mention Ms. Shagnasty when Charles called that evening. We talked about our first public event and Charles mentioned that the dress code for the New Year's banquet was formal. As the social chairman, he had made arrangements to hold the banquet at the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club, one of the most exclusive gathering places for rich businessmen, English and Chinese. We both counted the days until the New Year and then talked dirty to each other before hanging up.

After I hung up, I thought about how I would dress for the banquet. I resolved that I wouldn't go to the New Year's banquet dressed like nerdy Dr. Wu, as I had gone to the Colonial Office. I decided to dress in my cheongsam, traditional Chinese formal. I chose the cheongsam not just because I seduced Charles in this dress and I intended to seduce him again after the party. No, Charles thought that I never looked sexier than that first night I practiced my form of sex therapy on him. I had to look my sexiest at the party to erase the impression I had made when I visited Charles' office. I made an appointment with my hairdresser so that I would have the same hairstyle as Li Gong wore in Shanghai Triad. That hairstyle would show off my mother's antique jade earrings that I would ask to borrow. Of course, I would leave my glasses at home and wear my new contact lenses that evening. Charles' companion for the New Year banquet would be Wu Sui-Beng, Chinese femme fatale. I was sure that Ms. Shagnasty would attend, see me and be very jealous. Her jealousy would become the very subtle beginnings of her downfall.

On the night of the banquet, I was dressed and ready an hour before Charles was supposed to come. That's how excited I was and how important this evening was to me. I must look and act as glamorous as possible. I had to show everyone that Ms. Shagnasty had badmouthed Charles to that he was capable of winning a trophy girlfriend. I also wanted this evening to be the best sex of our short relationship. I was fantasizing how I would fuck Charles tonight when the object of my love, lust and desire knocked on the door. Charles looked so macho and confident, nothing like the depressed, timid man who had first come to me as a patient. When Dr. Wu cures a patient, they stay cured. Charles let out a low whistle.

"Susan. You're more beautiful than ever tonight. You're going to make every man at the banquet jealous of me."

Outside the apartment, Charles had a surprise for me. Charles had arranged for a chauffeur and a limousine to take us to the banquet. The limousine was the ugliest car I had ever seen but I thought the chauffeur was kind of cute for an older guy. He had a bit of gray hair, he was not quite so cute as Charles, of course, but he had a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. He obviously shared Charles' opinion of how I was dressed.

"The Guv said 'e were picking up a China Doll but 'e didn't do you justice at all ma'am."

"Well, Syd, I didn't exaggerate, did I? Susan, this is Sydney Poole, the manager of our vehicle fleet. He got us the Daimler for the evening. He's consented to be our chauffeur and I have consented to introduce him to the manger of the Yacht Club in return."

"Pleased to meet you ma'am. Listen, Charles and I are both pulling a fiddle tonight. The Governor likes the Daimler for official occasions because 'e says: 'Syd, I wants a car just like 'Er Majesty.' Well, Charles 'ere wants the Daimler cuz 'e says 'I want me Susan to be treated like the Queen.' Well, these 'ere Daimlers are also queens, garage queens. The Governor 'ad to make do with the Rolls for New Year but Syd got the Daimler running by magic, just as the Governor's Rolls left the garage."

"And my fiddle is that, in exchange for his services and the Daimler, I will introduce Syd to Mrs. Lily Poon. I think that she's just the woman for Syd; she's single, she's about the same age as Syd and she's very lonely."

On the way to the banquet, Syd was full of praise for Charles. He was the only management bloke, in his words, who had befriended him. Most of his friends were the Chinese mechanics he supervised. Since he was very lonely, Charles had offered to introduce him to a single lady his age. I was oddly pleased that Charles was trying to set up Syd with a Chinese woman. He must think that oriental women are something special, and we are Mei-Ling. My happiness was because Charles wants that special something for his good friends. 

Mei-Ling, all heads turned as I entered the ballroom on Charles' arm. We symbolized the very essence of Anglo-Chinese friendship with Charles in his elegant tuxedo and I in my cheongsam. Our table was at the far side of the hall so we had to pass almost every table to take our place. Every male head, white or yellow, turned in my direction. When we passed the table where my enemy, Ms. Shagnasty was sitting, I was so amused by her reaction. She was obviously startled that the nerdy Chinese woman she had been so disrespectful to a week earlier had transformed herself into the most beautiful woman in the Club that evening. Ms. Shagnasty's date for the evening couldn't take his eyes off me so, as we passed their table, I gave him a flash of my leg through the slit in my cheongsam. Ms. Shagnasty gave the old bugger an elbow to make him stop staring at me.

Although this was the annual banquet of the Anglo-Chinese Friendship Society, I could see little real Anglo-Chinese friendship as I looked around the ballroom. There were a few Chinese who sat at a table with mostly English and a few English brave enough to be the only couple at a Chinese table. For the most part, the English kept to themselves and the Chinese likewise. The few Chinese Communist officials arrayed themselves in their baggy suits around one table rather than mixing with either the foreign devils or their puppet capitalists. Definitely, we were the only Chinese/English couple in the whole club. Of all the people there, we were the only ones taking Anglo-Chinese friendship to the limit with a sexual relationship.

Charles was single-minded in his pursuit of friendship with the Chinese. He didn't mind when the Chinese at our table laughed at his very rudimentary Mandarin. He used his chopsticks like an expert and took his food from the common dishes like the Chinese rather than putting it on a plate and eating with a knife and fork like the English. Charles carefully cultivated the Chinese businessmen at our table, mixing personal details about their families with small talk about the current business climate.

When I realized that Charles was cultivating these people so that he could stay in Hong Kong with me, I started to talk with the wives about what a student of Chinese culture Charles was. Of course, I didn't say that we had been carrying on a clandestine sexual relationship for months and a Chinese woman would be too polite to ask if we had gotten into the sack already. Maybe the Chinese businessmen don't pay any attention to their wives' gossip but I had to ensure that nothing bad about Charles got back to them through that route.

During the aperitifs, Charles finally had a few minutes to talk to me. I decided that now was the time to ask about Ms. Shagnasty.

"Charles, isn't that woman at the far table your secretary, Ms. Shagnasty?"

"Yes, but I believe she pronounces it 'Shaughnessy,' my love. Actually it really doesn't matter how she pronounces her name because we all call her 'Daffy.' Her first name is Daphne, you know."

"Why does she act so miserably to other people. Can't you fire her?"

"Wish I could but she's screwing her way up the corporate ladder and she's already gone a few rungs higher than me. Had a go at me once but..…well, you already know what happened."

"Don't give it any thought Charles. You're with someone prettier and who knows what you want in a woman. Who did she come with tonight?"

"Oh, that's Richard Horner, the head of Commercial Section. That's what I meant by Daffy screwing a few rungs higher than mine. We call him Horny Dick, not to his face, of course. The fact is that he's put the make on every female in Commercial Section and a few in Excise as well. Wish I knew what the women saw in him. Of course, Daffy doesn't see anything in him except a way to fulfill her ambitions."

"Don't worry about what white women see in him, my lover. Can't you see that I'm the envy of all the Chinese women here? You appeal to oriental women and I will have to fight them all to keep you."

So the old fart with "Daffy" was Charles' boss. I started to study Horny Dick and he was definitely looking over the Chinese women in the hall. Had my arrival with Charles and the flash of leg I had given him awakened his interest in yellow women? I think I started to hatch my plan to get back at my enemy at this point. I must tell you, Mei-Ling, what it is after I pull it off.

For the evening's entertainment, the Chinese had a dragon dance and set off a few firecrackers, which sounded like an AK-47 in the hall. The Scots piped in a haggis, accompanied by bagpipes. The bagpipes sounded to me like the screams of the sheep they killed to make the haggis. It was quite an evening with sheep slaughtered by an AK-47. When it came to eating the haggis, I was thoroughly ashamed of the Chinese at our table, Mei-Ling. They refused to touch the haggis. Hadn't they just feasted on chicken feet a few minutes before during the banquet? Haggis is no more strange than some of the things we Chinese eat.

During the entertainment, Charles said that Lily Poon had less to supervise with the dishes cleared. He left and brought Syd into Lily's office and, presumably, saw that they were "properly introduced."

When the dancing began, Charles urged me to come out on the dance floor with him. I was reluctant because I thought I had forgotten the dance lessons my parents forced me to take when I was in high school. The last time I danced was when I was studying in Canada. I shouldn't have worried. Charles led beautifully and I eased into top form. We made such a beautiful couple as danced the waltz. We were the only couple to try a tango. Mei-Ling, the cheongsam is the ideal dress for the tango. At certain points, the woman's leg flashes out from the slit on the side of the dress and caresses the inside of the man's thigh. It was such a purely sexual sight that Horny Dick couldn't take his eyes off me. Finally, when there was some music that he could dance to, he came over to us.




Mellow Yellow Ch. 15



"I say, old chap. Do you mind if I take a whirl with your lovely lady?"

I must say that Horny Dick is the most disgusting white guy I've ever met. He felt me up all the time we were dancing and held me so close that I had a hard time to breathe. Finally, he asked if he could have my telephone number. I said that my number is unlisted because I was a psychiatrist and that got me out of that. Horny Dick definitely was interested in me but he knew nothing about how to approach a Chinese woman. Despite his shortcomings, I knew then that he would prove to be a useful idiot in my plan for Ms. Shagnasty's downfall.

At that moment, I just had to get away from the old lecher's hands before they started running up inside my cheongsam. When the music ended, I whispered to Charles that it was getting late and we still had work to do that evening. We went to collect Syd who was sitting in Lily Poon's office. I could hear laughter and both of them talking in a mixture of languages that I call Chinglish. Syd's Cantonese was no better than Lily's English but they were getting along famously discussing who knows what. 

In the limousine on the way home, Charles was restless but much better behaved than his boss. I like it when a man subtly demonstrates his desire without making an outrageous display. I was hoping that my horniness was just as subtle. I don't think that Syd noticed anything. It looked to me as if his mind was too far away, probably fantasizing about getting into Lily Poon's panties.

As we embarked from the Daimler in front of my apartment building, I glanced up at Widow Chang's window. There was a crack of light where the curtains parted, interrupted by an object the size of a head. Yes, Widow Chang was getting her daily nutritional requirement of gossip. I wouldn't need to tell anyone in the neighbourhood tomorrow that I had a white guy in my apartment all night for the New Year. I could just imagine her scurrying from the greengrocer to the noodle restaurant with her scandalous news about that young tart, Dr. Wu.

I leaned back into the Daimler and whispered to Syd:

"I think that Lily is interested in you but you must remember to take it slow with a Chinese woman. Good luck Syd and thanks for driving us tonight."

"Right you are, luv. I'll be sure and keep me 'ands to meself tonight."

As Charles waved good bye to Syd, I noticed them wink at each other.

"Syd's going back to the Club to pick up Lily Poon and drive her home. It seems that the two of them really hit it off, despite their language problems. What did you tell Syd?"

"I just told Syd to take it slow with Lily. I'm happy that you're playing cupid for your white male friends. I hope that the two of them will be as happy as you've made me tonight. Come upstairs and we'll have some tea."

I thought I saw Charles wink again. Well, what did he expect? Was I going to ask him up to my apartment for a fuck with Widow Chang listening to our every word? Widow Chang doesn't know much English but she knows enough to distinguish between the words "fuck" and "tea." I had to leave something to the poor woman's imagination. As we passed her apartment door, I noticed that it was open just enough for a good peek. The guardian of my morals was following my every move and studying my white lover. Yes, the next day's gossip would be full of colour.

When the door to my apartment closed behind us, I embraced Charles and removed his tuxedo jacket. Then I undid his cummerbund. How complicated Western formal clothing is. Charles forgot all about the tea but he hadn't forgotten how to unbutton my cheongsam. I was thrilled as his hands caressed my bare back. I thought about how repulsive that dirty old man's hands had felt. Yes, Charles was the man for me and I must show him that I was the woman for him. I unbuttoned Charles' shirt and slid my hands around his back. Charles said:

"Let's make love on the futon just like our first time."

"Charles, I want this evening to be different and special. I don't want it to be exactly like the first time. I'm not pretending to be anything this time other than the woman who loves you. I want you to make passionate love to me in my own bedroom."

I led Charles to my bedroom and we continued undressing each other on the way, letting our outer garments fall, followed by a trail of undergarments, leading to my brassiere and panties by the edge of the bed. I crawled under the sheets and admired Charles in the dim light of my bedroom. I had screwed in the low wattage lights in my bed lamps after Charles had first screwed me in my apartment, in anticipation of further screwing this evening. I looked up at Charles willie standing straight out and already leaking some liquid. Charles willie was as formidable to me as the first time I had seen it. Again, I had the thought that I was too small to accommodate this giant until I remembered all the times its whole length had pleasured me.

Charles crawled under the sheets with me. His manly smell, his strong arms around me pulling me towards him made me dismiss my fear of that huge appendage. Mei-Ling, the man's hands were everywhere on me. It was as if I was in bed with one of those mythical Indian creatures with six arms. They caressed my outer thighs, my bum, finally cupping my tiny breasts. I thought Charles gave my breasts too much attention for their size but I was determined to give my lover everything he wanted this evening. I had no complaints as his kissing my breasts and playing with my nipples sent thrills through my body, focussed on a tingle that grew between my legs. I found Charles' nipples amongst the hair on his chest and played with him. I must have done the right thing as I felt Charles' willie stiffen and leak more liquid on the leg where it was resting.

I couldn't resist that gorgeous stiff pole and I reached down and put my hand around its middle. Charles turned me on to my back and ran his hand between my thighs. I switched hands on his willie and opened myself to my lover. Charles played with his hand caressing my muffie and then he parted my outer lips with two fingers. Charles ran his finger gently and slowly up between my inner lips, stopping short of my swollen clitoris. Again and again, Charles slow finger raised me close to orgasm and then stopped short. I had to keep from tightening my hand on his willie because the teasing my clitoris was getting was driving me completely mad. Finally, Charles decided he had teased me enough and brought his finger over the top of my clitoris. I absolutely exploded in orgasm, gasping to keep my voice down. I was not ready yet to let the others in my building enjoy the sound of a Chinese woman in the throes of passion while being gloriously fucked.

As my orgasm receded into pleasant memory, my thoughts turned to Charles' willie in my hand. I hadn't let go of it as Charles had brought me to orgasm and I hoped that I hadn't hurt Charles as I thrashed about in the throes of my passion. If I had, I was going to make it up to him I got on my knees and pushed Charles on his back. I then took Charles willie with both hands and brought the tip to my lips. Mei-Ling, Charles' erect willie is the most impressive from close up. You can appreciate the musky smell, the red color of the blood engorgement, the smooth exterior and bone-like hardness of the interior of the shaft. Even though I'm well-travelled and I've seen many beautiful things, I have never seen anything as beautiful as Charles' willie.

I started to lick the tip of his willie when Charles grabbed my leg and pulled me on top of him. I didn't know what Charles had in mind until I felt Charles spread my lips apart again and put his tongue in my muffie. Charles wanted a 69! Eager to please my lover, I opened my mouth wide and took in as much willie as I could without triggering my gag reflex. Then I withdrew Charles willie as Charles' tongue slowly glided up towards my clitoris. As I drew Charles' willie back into my mouth, Charles tongue went back down between my lips. Charles tongue kept perfect time with my sucking on his willie and made me more and more excited.

Mei-Ling, have you ever done a 69 with Paul that was so intense that you couldn't decide which end of you is having more fun? My first 69 with Charles was that intense, so intense and erotic that I felt an orgasm rising in me. I was so taken up with the force of my orgasm that I forgot what I was doing to Charles. I managed to keep sucking up and down on his dick but I really didn't know that he came the same time I did. The first inkling I had was when I took Charles' willie out of my mouth and noticed white sperm on his tip. I must have swallowed it in my excitement. I had given Charles his first blow job and hadn't realized what I was doing! That was even more exciting to me that Charles' essence was inside me, never to leave me, never to trickle down my legs.

Charles looked disappointed that he had come so quickly. He thought our fun was all over but he didn't appreciate that he was fucking a Chinese woman, the world's greatest experts in sexual technique. I grabbed Charles' willie firmly at the base to retain its stiffness and then crouched over his willie. Charles' tongue had made me enormously wet and the huge tip of his willie easily went in. I didn't play with Charles this time but eased his willie inside me slowly but relentlessly. We were both so wet from the 69 that his willie went inside without any forcing. So, I let go of his willie and enjoyed being split asunder by Charles' marvelous instrument. I felt its delicious size forcing apart my interior every centimeter of its way until I felt it had reached the end of my vagina. I was resting with my bum on Charles' thighs.

I leaned forward and started to kiss Charles' hairy chest. I could feel Charles stiffen within me. Even though he had come already, my Charles was eager for more sex. I then slowly raised myself and then just as slowly lowered myself back on Charles willie. The first time I fucked Charles, I was on top, playing sex therapist. I had been so concerned about Charles' welfare that I couldn't let myself go completely. Also, I was afraid that a small woman like me would be torn apart by such a huge willie. Not this time, Mei-Ling. I was in total control, without any fear of death by willie. I could put Charles' willie completely inside me where it would have the greatest effect.

Mei-Ling, I stirred up my insides like I was stirring vegetables in a wok. I started to scratch where it really itched. Mei-Ling, I don't know what parts of me I was rubbing and pounding with that huge, stiff willie but I was having the time of my life bouncing up and down on Charles. I could have bounced for hours Charles and he wouldn't come because I had already blown him off. Finally, I came again and squeezed his willie so hard that Charles couldn't help but come himself. This time, I screamed so loud that I am sure that I woke up my whole building, never mind just Widow Chang. I didn't care who was listening to me enjoying myself. I was so happy that I could fuck Charles and not worry about our careers. These were screams of joy because I was free to fuck Charles wherever and whenever I wanted. 

I collapsed on Charles' chest and let him go soft. There was no way that he would get stiff again after a blow job plus the fucking I had given him. I got up and Charles' willie slid out with a gush of liquids, both Charles' and mine.

As I lay in Charles' arms that night, I thought how lucky I was that I was to be the first woman, white or yellow, to ever experience Charles' huge willie. Mei-Ling, you are the only other woman I have told about how Charles and I met, as doctor and patient. I can trust you to keep that a secret as well as how big his willie is. No other woman, especially another yellow woman, must ever experience the pleasure of fucking Charles that I have had.

My thoughts then turned to what the coming year has in store for me. To Charles and Paul, this year is merely 1996. To you, my dear Mei-Ling, and to a billion people in East Asia, it will be the Year of the Mouse. To Wu Sui-Beng and to her alone, this will be the Year of THE Cock.

Chuc mung nam moi, my dear Vietnamese friend. Wu Sui-Beng

Melinda put the e-mail down on the coffee table, sat up and put her head on my shoulder. Her black hair draped itself down my chest. I picked up a few strands so I could smell Melinda's styling mousse that she had applied earlier in the evening. I always found the smell of Melinda's hair to be erotic. I put my arm around her slim waist. When Melinda was quiet like this, it meant that she was deep in thought. I left her to her thoughts and waited for her to find the words to express herself. They weren't long in coming:

"Oh, wow. The Year of the Cock. That's so oriental and so sexy. Susan's wrong, Paul. I think that I'll have a Year of the Cock as well."

I felt Melinda's thin, supple fingers start to deftly undo my belt and pull down my zipper...



Mellow Yellow Ch. 16



Mellow Yellow 16 – Susan Sinks Ms. Shagnasty with a Yellow Torpedo

Susan told us the following story in a number of different e-mails. I took the liberty of editing these letters to make the story easier to read.



Ms. Yin poked her head into Susan's office.

"Dr. Wu. You don't have any patients scheduled for the rest of the day and I've caught up all the paperwork. Can I go home early?"

"Why not? I've kept you late a couple of times this week. You deserve some time off. Get out of here and have fun for a change."

Susan leaned back in her chair, relaxed and began to enjoy the moment. Her patient load had been heavy this week as well as a couple of drug ODs that had required a trip to the hospital in the dead of the night. Now she had time to think about her private life. Susan's glance passed over her fingers and the ring that Charles had placed on that finger the last weekend. She hadn't had the opportunity to think about her engagement all week. In one way, Susan wished that Charles hadn't rushed the engagement. It had been only a month since they had officially met. Would her Chinese friends think that she was a fool, rushing into marriage? Susan knew that some of them would think that she was foolish just for marrying a white guy.

On the other hand, Susan and Charles had been lovers for over six months in reality. This was more than enough time to run a range of emotions towards Charles finally concluding with love. Her first emotion for Charles had been pity for his psychological impotence. Then, Susan was curious if she was woman enough to be the one to cure Charles. When she managed to seduce Charles by pretending to be a sex therapist, Susan was alternately intimidated and fascinated by Charles' huge dick. Then, Susan experienced pride that she had raised Charles' dick from the dead and that she was the only woman who had been dealt a fucking by it. Finally, she fell in love with Charles as he confessed he had seen through Susan's sex therapist charade all the time.

It had been a dodgy few months, as their relationship remained hidden from view to save both their careers. Those few months convinced Susan that Charles was more than just another man carrying a big stick. Charles was an intelligent, sensitive man, interested in the Chinese people, their language and culture. Susan couldn't wait until she was married and could enjoy Charles every minute of the day, in or out of bed.

Yes, they should rush into marriage. Not only were they suited for each other but the time was getting short. The British were leaving in less than a year. There would be much to do in the year so Charles would not be sent home to England with all the other civil servants. Susan frowned. That meant that she had only a year to humiliate Ms. Shagnasty. Yes, she had annoyed the white bitch by dancing with her date, Charles' boss, at the New Year banquet. Annoying Ms. Shagnasty was not enough punishment for the way he had humiliated Charles.

Susan learned that Ms. Shagnasty took great delight in telling anyone who cared to listen about their drunken encounter one evening and that Charles "never got the damn thing up. Soft as pud it was, luv." She made no secret of the fact that she was fucking Charles' boss, Richard Horner just to get a promotion. To complete this picture, Ms. Shagnasty insulted Susan to her face by implying that Chinese knew nothing about sex and that Susan was ugly. Charles kept saying, "leave it alone, dear one." Charles was merely English. Only the Chinese could understand the loss of face from saying that a man has a weak willie. Susan vowed that she would bring justice to Ms. Shagnasty, but she knew so little about the enemy, other than she used sex as a weapon, she was a lazy worker and she despised the Chinese people.

Susan recalled the Chinese New Year banquet when Horny Dick had developed an interest in Susan. He had danced with Susan and she shuddered at the thought of the dirty old man's hands feeling her all over. If Susan could stimulate Horny Dick's interest in Chinese women, Susan would have the perfect conditions for Ms. Shagnasty's racial, sexual and employment downfall. She would have to find a Chinese woman for Horny Dick. It couldn't be a woman like herself. It would have to be a promiscuous Chinese woman with a taste for white dick. She would have to be so desperate for a lay, even from an old white geezer like Horny Dick, that she would have to be crazy.

Crazy. That was the missing piece to her plan. There was no shortage of crazy women in Susan's practice but nobody immediately came to Susan's mind. They were all either married, too old or even too crazy to appeal to Horny Dick. Besides, most Chinese are racially prejudiced, especially when it came to sex. Chinese women are terrified of getting stuffed by a black or white dick. Susan's mind went over every Chinese woman she knew past and present until she remembered Tang Fang. Tang Fang was perfect for Susan's purpose.

Tang Fang was a manic-depressive and as promiscuous as a bunny rabbit, a typical bipolar. Furthermore, her favourite flavour of dick was white, as a result of her student days at Berkley. Susan always thought it was the dope and the free love that had created Tang Fang's obsession with white dick. Tang Fang had come to Susan for her periodic bouts of depression but had left because she didn't believe Susan that her periods of energy, mania and promiscuity had the same cause as her depression. If she could only somehow bring together Tang Fang and Horny Dick.

Susan looked down at her slender ring finger. Yes, an engagement party would be the perfect venue to bring Tang Fang and Horny Dick together and set her plan in motion. If she could only find Tang Fang's telephone number in her files. Yes, there it was, along with her English name, Faye. That would help because the English always found Fang to be an amusing name, for some reason. She would also have to refer to Horny Dick by his real name, Richard Horner. Chinese considered the diminutive for Richard, Dick, to be just as funny.



Faye Tang looked around her tiny apartment in despair. When she was depressed, Faye had no ambition at all. It was all she could do to drag herself to work, never mind, keep her apartment tidy. Nobody could understand how Faye's mood could suddenly plummet from the laughing, energetic, aggressive person that Faye knew was the real her to the depressed pile of clay she now was. Goodness knows, she had tried all kinds of doctors and medicines, both Chinese and Western. Acupuncturists assured Faye that she was a classic case of an imbalance of yin and yang. The acupuncturists had stuck pins into every square centimeter of her skin that Chinese etiquette permitted until she was a mass of pimples.

Faye had asked herbalists what they could do. They would always shuffle among the wooden drawers lining their shop and mix up concoctions of dried plants, tree fungus and bear gallbladders. The herbal remedies either gave Faye the shits or made her honk up her lunch. Still, she was depressed.

Faye had tried meditation, self-help techniques and mystic religions from Falun Gong to Scientology. She had listened to every feelgood guru with Hong Kong on his schedule but she only became more depressed as she realized that she could never attain whatever planes of enlightenment the guru required.

The only person who put a name to her condition was Dr. Wu. Dr. Wu said she was manic-depressive or bipolar or something like that. Faye Tang didn't believe Dr. Wu because she felt on top of the world most of the time. Faye's only problem was that she had the blues on occasion. Dr. Wu. had insinuated that when Faye felt good, she was acting just as destructively as when she was depressed. Faye resented when Dr. Wu inquired about her many affairs and tried to show her that this was part of her problem. Dr. Wu had tried to make her take lithium but all it did was make Faye thirsty and pee all the time. Faye tried other drugs but never took them for more than a week when she developed side effects. Faye thought, "Dr. Wu only looked like she was being helpful. I'm not crazy. I'm just sad sometimes."

Faye's condition had been with her for years and had alienated friends and lovers alike. Faye didn't realize that, when she was in her manic phase, what she interpreted as energy and aggressiveness others perceived as anger and attitude. Faye had never had a relationship that she could charitably call long-term. In fact, the last piece of dick she had was well over three months ago during one of her manic episodes. She had become obsessed with a co-worker, Yuk Yung, despite the fact he was 15 years younger and already married. Fay never noticed the knowing smiles as she told everyone in her office that Yung was her soul-mate. Faye had managed to seduce the fellow and he had come back repeatedly for the same treatment. Yuk Yung wasn't a bad lay, Faye thought as she reminisced about her last affair. Faye didn't realize that it was her insistence that Yung dump his wife that had broken them up.

Faye looked in the mirror. "I'm not old looking," Faye thought. "I haven't been bingeing on food and I still have a young woman's figure. A woman of 40 still has sexual needs. Why can't I get laid?" Faye thought about her student days in the United States. She didn't have any lack of dick then, 99% of it white. Faye thought of all the white guys she had left behind in the U.S., each and every one of them left yearning for more yellow pussy. If her last piece of dick was three months ago, her last white dick had to be years ago.

Faye wondered why had she returned to Hong Kong? In America, all the white guys chased her and she could have white dick by the kilometer. Here in Hong Kong, the Chinese men didn't appreciate how good their women were in bed. Faye's thoughts raced through failed relationships and one-nighters. "Maybe I've been trying men that are too young. Maybe I should look for older men?"

If she only had the money, she would emigrate to Canada before the Chinese takeover of Hong Kong. All it would take was $120,000 Canadian and a flash her winning smile to the Canadian visa clerk. Maybe, if the clerk was white and male, she would get some white dick accompanying the proper papers for Canada. Was there a shortage of escort agencies in Canada? If she could get to Canada, Faye would have a thriving profitable business that would provide her with all the white dick she needed.

The telephone interrupted Faye's thoughts. Faye thought: "Who could be calling such a sad, depressed, worthless person as Tang Fang?" Faye lifted up the receiver.

"Hi Fang! Do you remember me? It's Wu Sui-Beng, your old doctor. Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"Of course, Sui-Beng, but why are you calling me? You said to never come back for treatment if I doubted your diagnosis and that I needed to take drugs. So, that's why I haven't been coming to you. Do you want me back for treatment? Nobody else seems to do me any good."

"That's up to you, Fang. I just wanted to find out how you were getting along. How are you feeling and are you still single?"

"Yes, I'm still single and no, I'm not feeling well. I've been depressed for months now over a failed love affair. Men are such pigs."

"I may have something to cheer you up. I'm engaged and I'm having a party to celebrate. I'm inviting some single guys and I need to invite some single women for balance. Are you interested?"

"Congratulations Sui-Beng. Of course I'm interested. I think that getting out would do me more good than any drugs you could prescribe. I know that I'm not bipolar. I'm depressed because I'm lonely."

The two women talked a bit more and then hung up. Faye felt her spirits soar at the prospect of getting out and meeting someone. She picked up her clothes, tidied up the futon and cleaned her apartment. Dr. Wu hadn't said she was inviting any single white guys but who cares. Faye began having fantasies about who she would meet and hopefully fuck after the party. What had she done with her diaphragm? Life wasn't depressing after all.



Richard Horner stared out his office window looking over the bustling city. It was a clear day and he could see Kowloon across the harbour, framed by hills and mountains. He would soon have to leave his corner office for some damp, cold, barren office with grimy windows in Whitehall. How he hated London. Hong Kong had grown on him and he didn't look forward to returning to England. A civil servant of his stature would have to work in London along with all the other department heads. Here, Richard Horner was someone of importance. In London, he would be just another one of Her Majesty's civil servants, riding the train every morning, attaché case in hand and bowler on his head.

He wished he could remain in Hong Kong but there was no hope. Richard's age and zero abilities in Chinese ensured a return trip to England. Why hadn't he gone "Chinese" like that young chap, Burnhamthorpe? Not only had young Burnhamthorpe studied Chinese and sucked up to the damn Commies but he had gone out and gotten himself a Chinese woman. Richard thought about young Burnhamthorpe's woman. He had actually met her at the New Year banquet that young Burnhamthorpe had organized. What an entrance she made in her traditional Chinese dress. She was a real beauty and a good dancer as well. No wonder young Burnhamthorpe had fiddled the Governor's Daimler to show his date off. Richard actually believed Burnhamthorpe's woman was coming on to him when he took a whirl with her around the floor. 

Why had young Burnhamthorpe and his date disappeared from the party so early? Did they leave for some New Year yellow-white rumpy-bumpy? In the locker room of his health club, Richard had heard rumours that Chinese women were superb in bed. It wasn't as if Charles Burnhamthorpe could take advantage of any unique talents his Chinese woman might possess. From the stories Daphne Shagnasty told him, Charles' willie wasn't in complete working order. Perhaps Charles' new woman was a good cook and she made some ginger fish at her apartment.

Ah yes, what to do about Daffy? At first, Richard was quite flattered by the young woman's attentions to an older man. It soothed Richard's ego to bed a young woman, especially after Prunella Windthrop in Excise rebuffed his advances. Lately, Daffy had turned out to be a pest, constantly badgering him to take her on as his secretary. Mrs. Noseworthy was perfectly good in the position and he saw no reason to replace her. It wasn't as if Daffy was a superb lay. In fact, she had become as demanding sexually as she was demanding about Mrs. Noseworthy's job. He had to find a way to gently disengage from the woman.



Daphne Shagnasty finished typing the notes that Charles Burnhamthorpe had given her. They were about some boring meeting with the Mainland Chinese concerning harmonizing import tariffs between Hong Kong and the Mainland. This wasn't anything so important that Daphne Shagnasty should get her knickers in a knot. Daphne Shagnasty had real problems in her life. Her plot to get Mrs. Noseworthy's job by seducing her boss, Richard Horner, was not going well. Horny Dick hadn't screwed her ever since the New Year's banquet at the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club. Horny Dick indeed. Well, maybe he had dropped by Daphne's apartment once to have his oil changed but, really, Dick hadn't paid her the kind of attention she deserved.

Daphne thought: "How can I get the old goat's ear so I can nick Mrs. Noseworthy's job for myself?" Daphne's eyes glanced over the report she had just finished typing. She picked it up and walked down the hall to Richard Horner's office. What luck! Richard was in his office staring out the window and apparently not occupied with much in particular. Daphne walked in and closed the door behind her.

"I came to bring you Charlie's latest but once I saw you sitting there, I couldn't resist. I want a quickie with that willie of yours, right here and now."

Daphne didn't give Richard any chance to answer. She dropped the report on Richard's desk, trapped Richard in the V of the corner windows, unceremoniously pulled down Richard's fly and pulled out his dick. Daphne hiked up her dress and dropped her knickers to the floor. Richard wasn't really in the mood but when a young woman has her hand on your dick and trying to stick it in her muffie, any dick will rise to the occasion. Daphne spread her legs and prostrated herself on Richard's paperwork.

Richard stepped up to Daphne's broad ass and stuck his dick into the mass of hair below her asshole. Richard shoved his dick easily into Daphne's slightly damp cunt. Richard was always amazed at how loose Daphne was and how little feeling he had when he fucked her. Richard was quite proud of the size of his dick so he was positive the lack of feel wasn't his fault. It was just that the woman was loose as a moose. Whenever one of his office colleagues asked what it was like to screw Shagnasty, he always replied: "Well, it's a bit like trying to stir a can of paint with your willie." Richard speculated that Daphne must use a vibrator the size of a cricket bat to end up that loose.

Richard started to stroke in and out, carefully trying to avoid falling out on the outstroke. Richard kept it up for a few minutes and Daphne faked an orgasm. That was Daphne's signal to Richard to shoot his load before someone knocked on the door of his office. As Daphne wiped herself with a Kleenex, she reminded Richard:

"Don't forget to put my name in for Mrs. Noseworthy's job. Then we can do this more often."



Charles Burnhamthorpe thought about last evening. Susan had spent the evening at his apartment after supper at a nearby restaurant. Charles wished that English cooking was a matter of pride to his people so he could impress Susan with English cooking the way Susan always delighted him with Chinese food. Susan always knew "a nice little Chinese restaurant around the corner." Taking a Chinese woman to an English pub to have bangers and mash washed down with warm bitter was no way to create a good impression. Fortunately there was a good Chinese restaurant "just around the corner" from his apartment building. Susan seemed to prefer staying at his apartment, despite her not liking his style of decoration. They constantly debated whether they would live together in this apartment or Susan's and how Charles' western art would ever match Susan's oriental pieces.

Whatever were their disagreements on interior decorating, they both agreed that they were sexually compatible. Charles just adored caressing Susan's golden silky-smooth skin and playing with her firm, pert tits. By now, Charles regarded the huge floppy breasts and rough skin of white women with disgust. What pleasures Susan's tight little pussy brought his dick? Actually, Charles had nothing white to compare Susan's pussy to. He had made love to white women but he had never actually fucked one. Their attitude had always turned Charles off, with the result that any initial excitement was lost in a barrage of harping instructions given from a position flat on their back. Susan was what he had always wanted in a woman. She was so responsive that verbal communication was totally unnecessary when they made love. Charles mind wandered to their fuck of the previous night. His sexual fantasy ended when he remembered that he had promised Susan to do something today.

"Charles, can we have an engagement party? I really must show off my lover to all my friends. They will be so jealous of me."

"Susan, I can deny you absolutely nothing. Besides, that's a capital idea and I can return lots of favours I owe people when, well you know, I didn't have much social life. I still got invited to parties even if my reputation had preceded me. Still, parties are crashing bores, when women don't think it's worthwhile trying to pick you up."




Mellow Yellow Ch. 16



"Charles, those days are over. This party is to prove what a stud you are. Which brings up the woman who tried to destroy your reputation. I don't want to invite Ms. Shagnasty, no matter how much I would like to lord it over her. Besides, she hates Chinese people."

"I believe she pronounces it Shaughnessy, my love. I don't know if we can get around not inviting Daffy. We really must invite Horner, my Section head. Daffy's his main squeeze right now. I admit that I don't know what he sees in her but he may not come without Daffy."

"I think he might if you mentioned to him that there will be lots of single women at the party for him to chase. My women's intuition tells me that only a case of the collywobbles would keep him from the party if you take the time to inform him that many of the single women will be Chinese."

Charles always laughed when Susan pronounced Daffy's name exactly as it was spelled, not as "Shaughnessy", the way Daffy preferred. Charles concluded that it must be because Susan really did resent Daffy. It certainly wasn't because Susan had any problems with the English language. Charles loved how Susan's slightly accented spoken English blurred the letters "l" and "r". When they were making love, Susan would say something like "I want your worry" which made Charles wonder if Susan was practicing psychiatry or asking him to shag her with his willie.

Charles decided that he should get Susan's request over with and invite Horner to the party. He got up and wandered over to Richard Horner's corner office. He wasn't quite as sure as Susan that Richard would agree to come without Daffy in tow. Just as he was thinking about Daffy's hold over Richard, the door to his office opened and Daffy sauntered out like her Majesty. Her disheveled clothes detracted somewhat from her magisterial display. To Daffy, it was not so much what other people thought. What was important was what Daffy thought. Daffy regally flounced by Charles and Richard beckoned to enter.

"Daffy was just, ummh, conveying your report to me. I haven't read it but I must say that it is timely. Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"Actually, I'll wait until you've read it before we discuss the report. I have something else to report and that is that Susan Wu and I are engaged to be married."

"Congratulations, Charles." Richard lowered his voice. "Then, I trust then it's not true what Daffy says about not you not having enough lead in the old pencil. I assume you and your Susan have, ummh, consummated your relationship. Wouldn't do to present your wife with limp spaghetti on the plate for the honeymoon dinner now, would it?"

"Daffy exaggerates but she did have a go at me that didn't work out." Charles hesitated. He didn't want to reveal how Susan and he had really met. He concluded offhandedly: "Susan and I haven't had any problems at all."

Richard looked outside the office to make sure that they weren't overheard and then lowered his voice even more. "Tell me old chap. Is it true what they say about oriental women? Are they really tighter than white women? Are they really better lovers in the sack? Are they built differently down there from white women?"

"Really Richard. I think you should find out for yourself. Susan and I are having an engagement party and Susan assures me that she's inviting some of her single Chinese women friends. You'll have to park Daffy for the evening, of course. She'll be a drag when you chat up the ladies. Besides, Susan and Daffy don't hit it off. Seems they didn't find the right chemistry when they first met."

"I wouldn't miss your party for the world. I was just thinking before Daffy arrived that, as a civil servant of the Crown, I should socialize more with our Chinese subjects……."



Susan looked around at the crowd enjoying their party. Susan had warned Charles that the Chinese wouldn't touch the cheese he had requested for hors d'oeuvres. However the Chinese guests weren't having any trouble downing lots of wine. That meant a hefty bar bill from the restaurant. Revenge comes at a price, Susan thought. When the Chinese snacks were brought out, Susan was sure that the English guests would shun them as surely as the Chinese guests shunned the cheese. Why did the English and Chinese have to have such incompatible stomachs?

Susan glanced at the people milling about the restaurant's private function room. Tang Fang was late as usual. Fang had absolutely no sense of time because she was a bipolar. Susan thought that she should have taken this into account when she invited Fang. Horny Dick was prompt and precise and was already working the room to see what he might pick up for the evening.

Susan had told Charles a little fib and she hadn't actually invited any single Chinese women. In fact, she made quite sure that none of the women she invited were in any way on the make. The single white women had all previously rejected Horny Dick's propositions. Even a committed lecher wouldn't bother chatting up a woman who had already told him to take a hike. Yes, Susan's plan was working well, if only Fang would show up.

An hour after everyone else, Faye Tang finally arrived at the party. From the look of excitement in Fang's face and her rapid body movements, Susan estimated that Fang was slightly manic. Relieved that Fang had arrived and wasn't depressed, Susan walked over to Horny Dick, who appeared to be running out of women to proposition. Fortunately, she had Charles in tow to keep Horny Dick from putting forward any sort of indecent suggestion.

"Richard. I'm so sorry we haven't had a chance to chat all evening. Would you be so kind as to squire a friend of mine for the evening? She's arrived late and has nobody to talk to."



Richard looked carefully at the woman that Charles' fiancée had just introduced him to. She was slightly taller than the other Chinese women and dressed very stylishly. She actually went to a hairdresser rather than wearing it straight like most of the working class Chinese women he encountered. Richard didn't have the foggiest notion as to her age but he could never tell the age of any oriental. Her jet-black hair was no clue, especially if she was seeing a hair stylist. Richard didn't even know if she could speak English. Well, better break the ice:

"Excuse me, I didn't quite catch your name when we were introduced. I'm Richard Horner and I'm Charles Burnhamthorpe's boss."

In a mid-Pacific accent that sounded somewhat American but was unmistakably Chinese, Richard's companion replied: "I'm Faye Tang and I've known Dr. Wu Sui-Beng for years. So, you're Charles' boss. I suppose you're in charge of many important matters in our city."

"Actually, the Mainland Chinese are starting to take over most of my responsibilities. In a bit of a holding pattern until next year. You must work for a foreign company with such good English."

"Actually, I work for a small Hong Kong company that buys goods in Taiwan, changes the labels to "Made in Hong Kong" and then sells it to the Mainland. We often put the same labels on things we buy in China and sell them to Taiwan. We really don't take sides."

"So, you know a lot about commercial trade. We should be training Chinese people like you to take over next year. Tell me, what do you think if the new Mainland Regulation…"

Faye and Richard spent the rest of the party talking trade and politics. Richard wasn't sure if Chinese discussed personal matters at a first meeting. Faye spoke in a rapid-fire manner that Richard found difficult to understand initially. He had never before heard a foreigner speaking English at warp speed. Faye must be quite educated, Richard thought, although she insisted on using those damned American colloquialisms. Richard noticed several times Faye fluttering her slanted eyelids at him. The woman was obviously coming on to him. Richard responded with a knowing wink that wrinkled the corners of his eye. Did Faye think he was too old for her? Why did oriental women have to age so well? He couldn't tell by looking how old she was and Chinese women only told their age by the name of the year they were born. If only he knew a little bit about the Chinese calendar.

Faye was alternately attracted and repelled by the white guy who was spending so much time with her. On the plus side, he wasn't bad looking, tall and gallant with grey hair and an even greyer beard. Unlike most older white men, he didn't have a pot belly. Faye couldn't stand fat, bald men, even if they had a white dick. Faye had never made love to a man with a beard before. Chinese men couldn't grow full beards like white guys. Faye was curious what a beard would feel like. Would it tickle her or make her sneeze?

Faye loved the way Richard spoke English. It was so much more elegant than the way American students spoke. This guy must be really shy, Faye thought. Richard avoided talking about anything personal. Shy men are always repressed sexually and provide the best dick, if you can only get them to bed. Richard was white and, goodness knows, Faye loved white dick. In fact, he was also the only available white male in the room. Sui-Beng had promised her lots of single guys but Richard was the only single male at the party that wasn't gay. Faye would have to speak to Sui-Beng about stretching the truth. 

On the minus side, Faye was always found the thought of screwing an old man to be vaguely repulsive. Richard looked so much older than the men she had been chasing recently. What if Richard was so old that he couldn't get his dick up? Faye had heard stories from her grandmother about young women marrying older men and remaining virgins all their lives. True, she didn't have to marry Richard but why invest a lot of effort this evening getting him into to bed if he couldn't come through with a poke?

Faye finally decided to work with what was available. She gave Richard a little come-on with a flutter of her eyelashes and Richard responded with a wink. Faye was happy that the guy was still interested in women, despite being his age. Faye gave a few more flutters as they talked and Richard responded every time. Finally, Faye popped the question:

"You haven't come here with anyone, have you? Are any of the women I saw you with when I came in with you?"

"Good heavens no. They're all married. Charles promised me that there would be more single women. I'll have to find out what happened."

"Then, would you escort me home tonight? It's not a good idea for a single woman to travel around Hong Kong unaccompanied at this time of night."



Richard Horner got off the bus and helped Faye down the last step. Richard noticed how tiny and soft Faye's hand was. More than that, he felt for the first time the smoothness of oriental skin as her hand glided out of his. It was the first time that Richard had actually touched a Chinese woman and he liked what he felt.

Richard looked around at Faye's neighbourhood. It consisted of mostly anonymous apartment buildings, none of which looked as luxurious as his digs on the island. Richard had a slight moment of panic when he realized that his was the only white face among the people scurrying around the community. Richard began to realize how visible minorities felt in his native England.

Faye noticed that Richard looked somewhat bewildered. "This guy's never been in an all-Chinese neighbourhood in the New Territories," Faye thought. "I'll have to try and put him at ease." Faye took Richard's hand and led him to one of the more decrepit buildings. Faye towed Richard behind her up gloomy stairs to a door on the fourth floor. Richard was out of breath but decided he couldn't lose face with the younger woman. Thankfully, Faye didn't live on a higher floor. As he caught his breath, he suddenly noticed that the door was only one of many on the same floor. "These apartments must be microscopic to fit all these on one floor," Richard thought.

His worst fears were confirmed when Faye opened the door into the hall and led him through a tiny kitchen to a slightly larger living area. The kitchen smelt vaguely of ginger and garlic, smells as exotic to Richard's English palate as the woman and her apartment. Faye's apartment had very little furniture, consisting of a table with two chairs and a futon with a small side chair in one corner. There was a small wardrobe in the other corner, which Richard assumed contained all of Faye's clothes. Faye had very little art on her walls.

Richard thought, "The poorest Welsh coal miner doesn't live in as cramped quarters as this. Why have we allowed our Chinese citizens to live like this, while we profited from all their work? We're just exploiters. No wonder the Hong Kong Chinese aren't exactly unhappy to see the English leave."

Faye turned and released Richard's hand. For a moment, she looked at Richard in silence. Faye expected Richard to take some initiative but he stood in the middle of the tiny space with only a look of bewilderment. Faye misunderstood Richard's political and social musings as shyness. She thought: "I was right about this guy. I'll have to take some initiative with this guy if I'm going to get any dick tonight."

Faye didn't say a word as she started to slowly and seductively unbutton her dress. She smiled at Richard, who stood in silence with his mouth half open. That got his attention. Faye dropped her dress to the ground, revealing her black lingerie and the golden skin of her body. Faye reached behind her back and undid her brassiere. Faye allowed Richard sufficient time to appreciate her pert little tits with their erect brown nipples pointing directly at him. Faye was proud that her tits didn't sag in the least. Faye finally revealed her pièce de résistance to the slack-jawed old man staring at her. She lowered her panties as slowly as she could, despite her horniness for white dick, revealing a thin triangle of damp hair pointing downwards towards smooth, thin thighs. Faye's thighs made a gap below her bush, revealing the slit below her hair. The two halves of her slit formed a perfect dimpled U connecting both thighs.

"Do you like what you see? Do you want to feel it as well. Please make love to me."

Richard was amazed. He had only experienced the touch of an oriental woman a scant few minutes before and now she was standing naked in front of him asking him to shag her. Young Burnhamthorpe had told him that Chinese women were shy and that he should take it slow, if he wanted to get anywhere with one. Faye Tang was the most aggressive woman of any colour Richard Horner had ever encountered.

"Richard, I said, do you like what you see?"

Did he like what he saw? Only an idiot wouldn't appreciate the naked beauty of a slim, petite oriental woman. Richard felt his dick expanding in his pants, so hard that it began to hurt. That reminded him that he had better show he wasn't an idiot.

"Of course I like what I see. You're beautiful. More beautiful than any white woman I've seen."

Richard hurriedly undressed, leaving his best suit in a pile on the floor. Never mind that it would need a pressing the next day. Richard pulled the elastic of his briefs over his stiff dick. That would demonstrate to Faye that he indeed liked what he saw. Faye was relieved that Richard thought Chinese women were good looking but she was even more relieved that the old guy could still get it up. Not only was Richard's dick ready for action but Fay was quite impressed with its size. She had fucked longer dicks in her life but never one as thick as Richard's. Faye felt herself dribbling inside her thigh as she imagined Richard's dick thrusting between her legs and forcing her insides further apart than they had ever been spread before.

Still under the impression that Richard might be shy, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the unfolded futon. "Make love to me, Richard," Fay said in her best bedroom voice. This was an invitation that Richard couldn't resist. He crawled under the sheets with Faye.

Richard's lovemaking was based on his experience with white women and their "Let's fuck and you do all the work" attitude. He was ready for the usual three hours of foreplay needed to overcome a white woman's frigidity. Richard was pleasantly surprised when Faye started to caress his hairy chest and to cuddle up to him. Richard put his arms around Faye and she melted in his embrace. Richard caressed Faye's back and bum, enjoying the silky smoothness of her body that he had felt on Faye's hands. Faye put her arms around Richard and suddenly they were entwined as one person. Richard's leg parted Faye's thighs and glided up between her thighs. Faye's crotch was so hot and wet that Richard thought he had put his leg into a sauna. Faye felt Richard's leg hairs tickle her thighs and the outer lips of her pussy. She enjoyed the hair on a white guy's body.

Faye kissed Richard's lips and her tongue darted between his lips. "This woman has some experience," Richard thought. He felt Faye's breasts pressing against his chest. Richard wanted to touch such beautiful, well-packed breasts that were so unlike a white woman's breasts. How many women had Richard thought were stacked when they were dressed only to find that the melons were transformed into pancakes as the woman lay flat on her back. They kissed while embracing a little longer, each tongue exploring a little more of the other's mouth.

Faye finally broke the embrace and continued kissing Richard's shoulders and chest. Richard appreciated Faye's attentions and the opportunity she gave him to put his hand on her tits. Faye had been teasing, rubbing her tits across his chest, using her knowledge that no white guy could ever resist firm Chinese tits. Richard's hand cupped one of Faye's tits and he felt a hard nipple press in the middle. Faye squealed in delight. This was a real squeal of pleasure, not the faked, white variety that Richard had so often encountered. As if to return pleasure to her lover, Faye started to lick Richard's nipples, sending a spasm through Richard's body. This was the first time that any woman had paid attention to his nipples and the first time that he felt the same things a woman experiences. The feeling was so intimate that he pushed Faye away and dove under the sheets to her tits. Richard kept the hand that he had cupped on one of Faye's tits and began to kiss around the sides of her other tit. Faye's breathing increased and she gave out several squeaky sighs. Finally, Richard touched the tips of Faye's tits with her tongue, causing her to scream wildly like an animal. 

Faye reached down beneath the sheets and found Richard's dick. It was hard, erect and so big it was no trouble to find in the dark. Faye put her hand on Richard's dick and was happy to see that it was leaking liquid. That meant that Richard wanted to slip his dick into Faye as much as Faye wanted it slipped. But Faye found that her thumb wouldn't reach around Richard's dick to her fingers, even to her longest finger. She knew that she had small hands but she had never encountered a dick that was impossible for her to hold. Would this dragon-sized dick fit? Faye wanted a dick that slipped in, not one that had to be jammed in with a hammer.

Faye gently moved her hand upwards along Richard's dick towards the tip, never squeezing the shaft. Chinese women had developed their hand technique because of thousands of years of civilization. Oriental women were popular for harems in the Dark Ages when the only sex European women got was when they were raped. Faye forgave her white sisters for their ignorance concerning how to please a man. After all, it's difficult to develop good sexual technique when you're being violated underneath a grunting Viking invader. Faye knew from her vast experience that she could drive a white guy crazy simply by applying skills that came naturally to her.




Mellow Yellow Ch. 16



Richard's dick was circumcised, like most white guys' dicks so the tip wasn't covered by skin. Richard's tip flared out broad and distinct, the edges sticking out like the brim of a fedora hat. The large ridge at the tip of Richard's dick effectively blocked Faye's hand from going any higher. If Faye couldn't get her hand around the shaft, there was no way that she would grip the tip. In any case, she knew that the tip of a dick was sensitive. She didn't want this old guy to come or perhaps he wouldn't get it up again.

Richard stopped playing with Faye's tits and lay back and enjoyed Faye's playing with his dick. He adored the way she held his dick gently, stroking it with her smooth hands. Faye was making his dick rock hard without shooting off. "This must be an Oriental secret," Richard thought: "She's just using her hands, never sucking my dick and she's driving me bonkers. Absolutely marvelous. They must not know anything about oral sex. I'd better show her that we know something in the West."

Richard pushed Faye on her back. Faye thought: "Oh no, here comes the Viking rape!" Faye was pleasantly surprised when Richard didn't ram his dick into her pussy but put his head between her legs. She hadn't had a man eat her pussy since her student days. Richard stared at the short, straight hair on her beaver that stopped short of her slit leaving the sides of her slit bare. He reached down with his hand and slightly parted Faye's lips. Richard was surprised at how much force he needed to pull them apart. Once reasonably open, Richard stuck his tongue between Faye's tightly clasped inner lips and drew his tongue upwards. Faye was delicious.

Richard had gained the admiration of his younger friends at the health club with his stories about oral sex. "How do you stand the smell, old boy?" they would ask. "No problem," he would answer. "If you can eat a plate of kippers for breakfast and keep them down, then you're well equipped to eat a bearded clam at night." Richard was exaggerating only slightly about the smell of white women's beavers. Daphne's personal hygiene was so bad that Richard had taken a dive only once, to his regret. Faye was so extraordinarily clean on the muffie that Richard sensed only feminine odours. Every white woman's femininity was always masked by body odours.

Faye lay back and reveled in Richard's tongue smoothly gliding up her slit and stimulating her clitoris from below. "The old guy's good," Faye thought. "He knows where to touch a woman." An orgasm building within her interrupted Faye's evaluation. Richard noticed another difference between Chinese and white women. Faye started moaning but it was not like the sound of any white woman he had ever heard. Faye started with a quiet reedy, high-pitched moan, more like a gasp than a moan. Richard started to lick Faye faster and faster and Faye's volume increased: "Ah-Ah-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH." Richard had never before heard the sound that only a Chinese woman makes when she is on the verge of coming.

Faye came but she stifled her mouth because of the thin walls of her apartment. If she could hear the couple next door, then they could hear her. Richard kept his tongue working the side and gently over the top of her clitoris. Finally, Faye could come no longer. She liked being eaten but she liked dick even more. Hopefully she hadn't been too selfish and the old guy still had it up. She took the hand off her mouth.

"Richard. Now. Don't keep me waiting"

Richard grabbed his stiff, meaty dick in his hand and crawled between Faye's open legs. Again, he had to part Faye's outer lips with more force than he was used to. Since Richard didn't have three hands, he placed the tip of his dick at the bottom of the inner lips and parted them by sliding the dick upwards. Faye's hot, lubricated pussy made Richard's dick throb slightly. As he parted Faye's lips, he felt with his tip a tiny opening that had to be Faye's cunt.

This was going to be difficult but Richard pushed his dick against the tiny opening and nothing happened. Faye began encouraging Richard not to give up but to push harder. The tiny opening spread and, aided by Faye's copious lubrication, allowed Richard a centimeter of entry. Richard experienced for the first time the exquisite feel of an oriental woman. Richard could feel the heat of Faye's body as she enveloped the tip of his dick. Richard had never felt such a tight, well-lubricated pussy.

Faye had seen Richard's thick cock when he was undressing. She realized that it was going to mean trouble but she wanted to try it. It had been so long since she had dick that Faye was industrial strength horny. "That will make me extra tight," she thought. Now her apprehensions came true as Richard was pressing at her opening without any progress. Richard was actually hurting but Faye couldn't stop now. "Don't give up. Push Richard." She didn't want to break the spell and have Richard dilate her with a finger job.

Faye kept encouraging Richard and trying to relax. The best way would be to think about one of her boring old Chemistry 101 professors at Berkley. That seemed to do the trick as she felt the opening of her cunt begin to yield to the enormous tip of Richard's dick. Now Richard was hurting even more and that made her loosen up even more. "My God," Faye thought. "I haven't hurt like this since I lost my cherry." Through her pain, Faye felt the mushroom-like tip pass her opening and enter about a centimeter.

"Stop Richard. I must get used to this. You're so big and I'm so small."

Richard was happy that Faye had requested him to stop as she was clamped so tightly around his dick that he was afraid that he would come before he even got halfway in. Faye's pain subsided and turned to pleasure. She had relaxed enough to accommodate Richard. Faye never knew that Chemistry 101 would come in handy later in life. Pleasure turned to desire for more of Richard's beautiful, thick dick.

"Slowly, Richard. Come to me slowly. Push. Fuck me Richard."

Richard didn't need to told to take it slow. He really had never felt a woman as tight as Faye. Just the first few centimeters of tasty, tight Chinese cunt were enough to convince Richard to drop Daffy and her Channel-sized cunt. Richard forced his dick in more and more, pausing in amazement as his tip passed Faye's cervix. White women were so loose that Richard had to wait until he was 50 years old to feel a woman's cervix. 

As Richard slowly stroked his dick in and out, Faye started moaning in the strange way when he was eating her pussy: "Ah-Ah-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH." Richard thought it was the most erotic sound that he had ever heard. No white woman had ever been so expressive except when faking an orgasm. Then they went over the top with their screams and moans. The sound Faye was making was genuine, a hymn of appreciation to the dick sliding in and out of her cunt and to the man attached.

Faye had never fucked an older man, Chinese or white, before. Richard was good and he could last. Most of the young guys Faye had ever fucked just shot off as soon as they took a stroke or two. Faye couldn't count the number of times after having sex she had to run to the bathroom to finish the job. How often had she given herself a finger job, her clitoris smeared with sperm, just to climax after a botched fuck. Richard was a sex machine, moving slowly at first and then faster and faster. Faye didn't need to tell Richard how she wanted dick. This guy knew his job.

Finally, Faye came, screaming thrashing and squeezing Richard's dick. Damn the thin walls and the couple next door, she was having fun! The unique sound of a Chinese woman screaming in the throes of passion was entirely lost on Richard. He came at the same time as Faye with such intensity that all sound. and sight was blotted out by the explosive force at the end of his dick. Faye had dealt him such a fucking that he was sure that the tip of his dick would be missing when he withdrew it. 

The intense high-voltage shock waves that had rolled over Faye during her orgasm slowly subsided into a warm, pleasant memory. Her legs stretched lifelessly on the futon, no longer gripping Richard's hairy thighs. Faye felt Richard slowly withdraw his dick from her now numb cunt. She lost track of the flared tip's return trip until she heard a squish as Richard withdrew completely. Faye reached between her legs and tried to put one of her fingers in her cunt. She was so stretched that her finger just rattled around the sticky mess at the opening of her cunt.

Richard was spent but he had to hold Faye close to him. No way was he going to let this woman get away from him. His first Chinese woman had confirmed all the rumours about their bed skills. No way would he ever go back to Ms. Shagnasty. In fact, that would be the way he would keep Faye around him. He would take her on as his secretary. He had to see Crockingham in Personnel the next day….

Faye half expected Richard to roll over on his back and fall asleep as so many men had done before after having sex with her. Faye was pleasantly surprised when Richard continued to hold her tightly. A peaceful look came over Richard's face until his eyes closed. Faye thought to herself: "Here's one more white guy who will never screw another white woman. And I'm another woman who's learned to appreciate older men."



Daphne Shagnasty hurried to Horny Dick's office. Dick had sounded so serious when he summoned Daphne that it must be about her promotion.

"Daphne, we're making a few changes here because of the return of Hong Kong to the Chinese. One thing we are doing is trying to bring more Hong Kong Chinese into the Colonial Civil Service. I have hired a Ms. Tang to take the place of Mrs. Noseworthy. She will be starting tomorrow."

"Oh that's awful. You're sacking Mrs. Noseworthy."

"Actually, that's why I wanted to talk with you . It seems that Mrs. Noseworthy has a bit of seniority over you and has asked for your job for the next year. Mr. Burnhamthorpe has agreed to let her work for him. She won't lose pay or rank and she can become a Section Head's assistant when she gets back to England."

Again, Daphne sat in stunned silence. "But what's to become of me? I won't be sacked, will I?"

"Of course not. We have an opening in the Passport Office. They can't keep up with their work with all the businessmen wanting to leave. You'll get to meet lots of Chinese people in that job. Unfortunately, the advancement possibilities are different in that job since you'll be working for Mrs. Yip."



I wish I could relate that they all lived happily together. Sadly, Mrs. Yip really never liked Daphne Shagnasty, a mutual emotion. Mrs. Yip's evaluation of Daphne's year in Immigration proved to be a dreadful burden to the career of a civil servant returning from the colonies. The last information I have concerning Ms. Shagnasty was that she was labouring as a low level clerk in the Court of the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Her current boss is also a woman, which may explain other changes in Daphne's life. Daphne changed her last name to O'Toole and she takes her boss on trips to butch leather bars in Soho. Aside from debauching her boss and anonymous young women, Daphne has also been seen in the Caribbean bars down in Brixton, apparently trolling the neighbourhood for some heavy-duty black dick.

Faye Tang moved in with Richard Horner for his last year in Hong Kong. Richard took Faye back to England with him in 1997. Richard intended to marry Faye and settle down in the suburbs. He had a vision of arriving home after his long train ride from the City and Faye would be waiting at his door with slippers and pipe in hand, ready to place his bowler hat on the peg by the door. His vision included the smell of ginger wafting from the kitchen while sipping jasmine tea in the parlour as he told Faye of his day processing paper for Her Majesty. He would relax while he waited to dive into Faye's Cantonese cooking and later diving into Faye's tight Cantonese pussy. Yes, Faye would reveal her repertoire of ancient Chinese sex techniques to Richard's delight.

Unfortunately, Richard came home on the early train one evening to find a strange bowler already on the peg and Faye in the bedroom revealing the secrets of the Orient to their neighbour. It seems that Faye Tang couldn't resist all the white dick she saw running around her English suburb. Bipolar, you know. Richard had a friend in Immigration uncover an irregularity in Faye's landed immigrant status and Faye was quietly deported. As for Richard, he was hopelessly enamoured of oriental women and he spends his leisure hours in Chinese and Vietnamese restaurants around London trying to find yellow pussy. He may not have many leisure hours left if he can't beat the 6 charges of making indecent suggestions to waitresses.

Charles and Susan have, to the best of my knowledge, lived happily ever after. Charles found work with a Hong Kong trading house that considers Charles' contacts with England and the Mainland Chinese invaluable. Susan's practice now includes several other doctors, so she has more time for her family. We still get e-mail from Susan. She never fails to comment on how Charles' big dick keeps her happy and content, no matter how much pain and suffering she encounters in her work. From what Susan writes us, Charles has never had a relapse of his psychological impotence. If you ask politely, I could show you a more recent e-mail about Susan's sex life. They have a son now and, from the frequency they have sex, another one should be on the way soon.

Melinda and I are still happily married and our family has grown to include another daughter and a son. Melinda is in a supervisory position and her hours don't fit with mine. We decided to get a nanny from the Philippines to help out with the children. Vanessa is single, brown and beautiful. Oh yeah. She's good with the children as well. Vanessa tempts me a lot and I might even try and make it with her if it wasn't for Melinda. Melinda keeps my dick happy and I'm still in love with her.



Mellow Yellow Ch. 17



Vanessa isn't her real name. She has family in the Philippines and, if they knew the whole story, they'd throw her out in the street for sure. The best place to start to tell the story of Vanessa is at the beginning. Our family was growing, both in numbers and in age. Tanya was now five, Damien was a toddler of three and Lin had just arrived. We had already moved to a larger house as soon as we realized we would become a family of five. A growing family, affluent, a new house; wasn't everything great for Melinda and me? Not everything.

"Melinda, I've been falling behind with my contracts with just two children to look after during the day. The only way I've managed to survive is by working in the evenings when you get home. When you go back to nursing, I don't know how I'll be able to work and take care of Lin in addition to Tanya and Damien. Besides that, we never get to talk or do anything together except in bed."

"I don't mind looking after the children in the evening and the sex has been great but I agree that we need to do more for our relationship. Look, we're both working and doing well financially. I say that we can afford some help and make some time for each other."

"What were you thinking about? I notice that you're always a step ahead of me, my love."

"I called up the Phil-Can Agency and it really wouldn't be expensive to have a live-in nanny. The room and board would be nothing, if we gave her the spare bedroom in the basement so she can have some privacy for herself.

"And I suppose you've already picked one out."

"How did you know, Paul? Her name is Vanessa, she's 25 and she's a qualified nurse who can't get a job in her country. Paul, please say you want her too. A nurse can look after Damien's asthma and only a nurse can understand what another nurse wants."

"She sounds more than qualified and we can use the help. I'll have to do some work to get the spare bedroom ready. She can use the bathroom in the basement as well and that will give her the same privacy she could have with her own apartment."

Melinda hugged me. "You agree! I was so afraid you'd insist that we had to bring up the kids all by ourselves."

That was how I found myself at the airport Arrivals hall on a cold, snowy December day holding a parka and boots. As the travelers straggled towards the conveyor to pick up their luggage from the conveyor, Melinda spotted the brown, sad figure timidly descending the stairs. "That's her. That's Vanessa. The poor girl looks bewildered," Melinda shouted.

Yes, it was Vanessa. Quickly, we put the parka and the boots on our new nanny. Melinda took the light jacket and running shoes Vanessa brought from Manila and gave her a welcome hug. I got a baggage cart and found Vanessa's cheap cardboard suitcase that had somehow survived third world baggage handling techniques. Driving to our house, Melinda and I tried to make some small talk but Vanessa wouldn't or couldn't make any conversation beyond yes or no. She said so little I couldn't tell if she spoke English well or what kind of accent she had. Vanessa just sat there, looking at the snow and occasionally shuddering. Personally, I think my city looks beautiful under a fresh layer of snow. Obviously Vanessa didn't share my enthusiasm.

By the time we got home, the wind had increased, bringing miserable windchill. I mean, the temperature was already minus what Manila usually gets as plus temperatures. As she got out of the car to go to the house, I could forgive Vanessa if she thought she had landed on the face of Mars. Melinda took Vanessa down to her room while I paid the babysitter. I put up the temperature in the upstairs part of the house by one degree. Then I took one of Melinda's sweaters down to the basement.

Vanessa and Melinda were sitting on the edge of the bed. Vanessa was in tears and Melinda was hugging her trying to comfort her and maybe warm her up. Melinda said:

"I know exactly how you feel. I came to Canada from a tropical country in the winter and I thought, 'This country sucks.' I wanted to go back to Vietnam right away, even if it was overrun by Viet Cong. I froze at first but then I didn't die and neither will you. Besides, summer is very nice here."

I gave Melinda the sweater and left the two women alone. Melinda came up after 20 minutes and gave me the thumbs-up sign and said, "She'll stay." Vanessa came up for supper bundled in the sweater and wearing Melinda's fuzzy slippers. Her own clothes consisted of a tight pair of jeans and one of those "I 'heart' Baguio City" T-shirts. She brightened up a bit when she saw the Vietnamese feast Melinda was cooking.

Vanessa cheered up even more at supper when we introduced her to the children. Vanessa liked them and they seemed to take to Vanessa. Vanessa took up her duties first day by warming the baby formula and feeding Lin. As she warmed up to the children and warmed up physically, Vanessa unbuttoned her sweater. I could clearly make out the outline of firm tits with erect nipples offsetting the ventricles of the heart on her T-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra under her T-shirt. When Vanessa got up, I noticed that that her breasts didn't jiggle much. Nice and firm. As much as I enjoyed the view, I made a note to tell Melinda that she should get Vanessa fitted with a brassiere. Another thing I noticed when Vanessa got up was the outline of her panties. They looked more like Queen Victoria than Victoria's Secret.

After her inauspicious arrival, Vanessa became part of the family. As her shyness melted and she became used to us, her face always bore a wide smile. She was a natural nanny, almost a surrogate mother when Melinda was at work. Vanessa would do anything with he children without consulting with us first as to how we would handle it. With Vanessa taking care of the children so expertly, my productivity shot up. I was able to get so many contracts completed that Vanessa literally paid for herself.

Vanessa quickly became Melinda's best friend. In fact, I wondered if they were becoming too close. I didn't mind when they taught each other their cooking. I think that Filipino food is underrated in this country. Melinda and Vanessa would argue good-naturedly over such weighty matters as whether the Filipinos stole the lumpia from the Vietnamese or vice versa. They grew so friendly that they traded clothes with each other. Sometimes Melinda would lend Vanessa her ao dai and she would wear Vanessa's sarong. I thought that was cute whenever we had a party at the house.

Despite the way Vanessa and Melinda were growing closer, she would always address me as Mr. Miskeivitch and Melinda as Mrs. Tran, as a sign of the employee/employer relationship. She never used our first names to our face. Melinda spent a lot of time of time in intimate women-only conversations with Vanessa. In fact, Vanessa rarely went out of the house, except with the children. It didn't think it was natural for a 25-year old woman not to go out and boogie once in a while. One day, I mentioned my concerns to Melinda:

"Don't you think that Vanessa should go out a little more? All she does is stay around the house. It's warm out now. She should enjoy our summer. Can you tell her to start taking her days off?"

"Paul, she likes it here. She enjoys the children and I just love her as well. You know that I don't have many friends in the Vietnamese community. It's great to have someone who knows what Southeast Asia is all about, even if she doesn't speak Vietnamese."

"Melinda, that's another thing. Don't you think that Vanessa and you are getting too close. After all, she has to return to the Philippines in eighteen months. You'll be very hurt when she leaves. It's not a good idea to be so friendly with an employee"

"Paul, you're just like the Vietnamese, the way they treat servants. They treat them like dirt and still expect them to do a good job. I vowed that I'd never treat anyone the same way my mother treated our cook. You know that I even treat our cleaning lady like a real person. Vanessa likes us, and I like her, both as an employee and as a person. Besides, she has so many hang-ups that I want to help her. I don't mind being hurt when she leaves if I know that I've helped Vanessa in some way. I may not be a good Vietnamese employer but I am a good nurse."

The first time I got some idea about the exact nature of Vanessa's hang-ups was a few weeks later. Vanessa took one of her rare nights off. I congratulated myself that Melinda and Vanessa had taken my advice. It was the time of the hockey playoffs, so I settled into my favourite armchair in the TV room to watch the late game from the West Coast. Melinda came into the room, dressed the way she did when I first met her, in black slacks and a white blouse.

"The kids are all in bed and asleep. Please make love to me on the couch, Paul. I need a good fucking and I want it to be just like when we were single. Remember all those times we would watch an erotic movie on the couch?"

Did I remember! It had been so long that we had had a chance to screw on the couch with kids running around the house. I turned off the hockey game and got ready to demonstrate my own stick handling abilities. Melinda and I dropped our clothes and started to make love like we hadn't for years. I guess that going back to our single days made me horny. I felt like I was seducing a shy Vietnamese girl all over again. I concentrated on demonstrating to Melinda's satisfaction that I still had the touch and the tongue.

When I got Melinda on the couch, I slowly worked down her body, kissing first her lips and then working over her small, firm breasts with both hand and tongue. I slowly slid my tongue over Melinda's flat stomach before reaching what she had for bush. As often as I did a muff dive, I always marveled at how little pubic hair Melinda had. She was like a preteen between her legs.

Melinda opened her legs and eagerly raised her pussy up for me. That wasn't the shy Vietnamese girl I used to know but Melinda had developed a taste for Canadian tongue. I put my head between her legs and parted her stiff pussy lips with my tongue. My hands cupped her bum cheeks, making sure that my tongue's target kept in position. I held Melinda in position and proceeded to slide my tongue up and down where it counted. I worked my tongue up and down the sides of Melinda's clitoris, remembering to gently massage her ass at the same time. I was driving Melinda crazy from the sounds she was making.

Melinda came with such force that I couldn't hold her from all her writhing. She dropped to the couch and I followed to make sure that I teased her clitoris right to the finish. I ended up with my ass in the air, my nose in the hair and a happy wife. Melinda pulled me towards her and grabbed hold of my dick.

"Paul: It's so big and hard tonight. You'll really stir me up inside tonight."

Melinda had me right where she wanted me and I didn't waste my time describing to Melinda how wet she was. The way I just slipped in without any effort told the story. Although she was well-lubricated, Melinda was tight and her internal muscles were quivering. Melinda was gasping in her high-pitched voice she used when I was giving her exactly what she wanted.

"Oh Paul, You're splitting me apart tonight. I'm dying and going to heaven."

I could feel Melinda's insides vibrating as I drove my dick in ever deeper. I took my time with the fuck, still driving my dick relentlessly deeper and deeper. I buried my dick until our pelvic bones hit. Melinda brought her legs around my ass and squeezed as if I could go deeper yet. We stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, just enjoying the feel of each other. Then Melinda released me from the grasp of her legs.

"Give it to me now. Pound my yellow pussy, white boy. I'm going to give you one good ride now."

I was about to draw my dick back when Melinda started to bounce up and down on the couch. Melinda threw her arms around me and wiggled her ass up, down, sideways, the way Mrs. Nguyen, the Saigon hooker did me. Melinda was far better than an old hooker, because she loved me. She was driving me crazy now. Finally, we came together groaning and gasping for breath. We both put a lot of work into that fuck.

We got dressed and I went to make some tea while Melinda cleaned up a bit. I noticed that the basement lights were on. Melinda came into the kitchen so I asked:

"Did you leave the basement lights on or has Vanessa come home? I hope she came in by the back door."

Melinda went down the stairs a bit and came back up. "Vanessa's back. I can hear the bathtub running. She never uses the back door when she goes out. The bus stop is closer to the front. Paul, do you think she saw us?"

"I don't know when she came in. You were so good that I was just wrapped up in giving you my best."

"Well, as a woman, I don't mind if she sees what I've got. As for you, from the front door, all she could see of you would be your curly head between my legs or your hairy white ass bobbing up and down between my yellow thighs."

"But, shouldn't you go and talk to her and apologize?"

"You still don't understand Asian women, do you? If she did see us screwing on the couch, it would only embarrass her that she caught us in flagrante delicto. If she came in the back, she heard my orgasm. I mean, you made me come so many times and so loud that she had to hear something. So, If I talk to her and she only heard, that will be like accusing her of being a voyeur. Either way, she would lose face and we might lose a good nanny. Just forget about it as if it never happened."

After that evening, I sensed someone listening outside our bedroom door at night. I assumed it was Vanessa but I could never catch her at it because, by the time I opened the door, she had disappeared down the stairs. Filipinas are generally light and graceful on their feet and our house is carpeted. I didn't stand a chance of catching her running away. Yet, I always had this feeling that someone was out there, listening to me screwing Melinda. Then it occurred to me. Something else was different lately. Tanya wasn't visiting our bedroom at night any more. So, I decided to ask Tanya:

"Is anything wrong, Tanya? You never come to see Mommy and Daddy any more to get a drink of water. Aren't there any monsters under your bed these days?"

"Nothing's wrong Daddy. Whenever I get up at night, Vanessa's always standing in the hallway. She says she's keeping the Boogie Man from getting into our rooms. I like Vanessa. She keeps us safe."

With this confirmation from my daughter that Vanessa was snooping, I decided to do a little snooping of my own. I went out and bought one of those monitoring programs that record all the keystrokes during a computer session. Normally you get the program to keep an eye on a spouse who's spending too much time in the chat rooms. In my case, I wanted to spy on the nanny. After all, if she was a pervert, did I want her around my children?

I didn't have too long to wait after I installed my snooper. That very evening, Vanessa asked if she could use the computer to send some e-mail and surf the Net. Of course, that's the plan, dear girl. I could hardly wait to see what was going through Vanessa's mind. As soon as Vanessa was finished, I restarted the computer and opened up the file with Vanessa's session. Her session started with writing some e-mail and then sending it off to her family. Not knowing any Tagalog, I skipped down to where she started surfing the Net. After reading the Manila Newspapers, apparently Vanessa chatted with someone on Literotica. Of course, my computer only saved Vanessa's side of the chat:

I'm flattered Longshlong J but I'm not into cybersex. I'm sure you can find some white girl to cyber with.

[mouse click]

What am I into? I've just started something but I don't know where it's going. I work for a wonderful couple. I saw them fucking one night and I'm really hooked on watching them have sex. They make love so beautifully that I'm completely obsessed with their sex lives.

[mouse click]

They're in their 30s with 3 kids. He's half Polish and half French. She's half Vietnamese and half Chinese. She's absolutely gorgeous – she looks like a movie star. He's a real stud. I never thought of having sex with a white guy, but he could change my mind.

[mouse click]

No, I don't know if it's bigger than yours.

[mouse click]

Of course she's tight. All we oriental women have tight pussies.

Then Longshlong must have said something that really pissed off Vanessa. She flamed Longshlong in words that I didn't believe until now that a shy, smiling Filipina knew. Then Vanessa visited a couple of porn sites. I made sure there was no kiddy porn. OK, she might be a little kinky but she wasn't a pedophile. Apparently, she got tired of chatting, quit the Net and started to explore games on the computer. Dammit, then she hacked into the secure file where I kept all my erotica. Vanessa was looking at my stories of how I met Melinda and all of our sexual adventures. I couldn't tell what story she looked at but I could tell that she printed it out. The printer was still warm.

I leaned back in my chair and I wondered whether I should tell Melinda about the nanny. No, Melinda wouldn't like it that I had put a snoop program on my computer. Sometimes she liked to have a woman-to-woman with her friend in Hong Kong, Susan Wu. Those e-mails were strictly No Men Allowed. Besides, was Vanessa really doing anyone any harm with her kinkiness? I felt excited that another woman besides Melinda appreciated my lovemaking. It was almost like having a woman on the side. Besides, she was keeping our family safe from the Boogie Man. Could you fault a nanny for that? No, I wouldn't tell Melinda about any of this.

While leaning back, I noticed that the back of my chair was loose. I closed the snooper and turned off the computer. My workshop was in the basement and that's where I kept all my tools. Since I had an excuse to go downstairs, I decided to do some snooping of my own. I tiptoed to Vanessa's door and listened. I could hear pages being turned. Either she read slowly or it was one of my longer stories that she printed. There was a pause in the pages turning. I could hear Vanessa taking off some clothes and then she began to breathe faster. The bed started to rhythmically squeak. Yes, this was the sound of Vanessa beating brown meat.

OK, so I'm a little kinky as well. I started to imagine that it was my fingers doing Vanessa. I could feel a woodie, I unzipped and started to pull my wire. I imagined myself slipping my dick into that brown pussy. Yes, it was me that was making Vanessa come. I shot off, making sure I caught it. That would be embarrassing if Vanessa came out and asked me what it was that I was cleaning. We would both have to admit what we had been doing. Talk about loss of face.

I hurried to the workshop and got rid of the evidence with paper towels. On my way upstairs with my screwdriver, Vanessa came out of her room. Her shirt was out of her jeans and her hair displayed some bed head. We gave each other an embarrassed grin and I went upstairs. As I was fixing my chair, I wondered, why should I be embarrassed? It was Vanessa who started spying on us first. I resolved to help Vanessa with her hang-up in my own way. If she wanted to watch, I would try and oblige her.

I started to tease Vanessa by becoming a little more talkative during sex. I would compliment Melinda on how wet she was and I gave a few more loud "Baby you're tight." My chance to add picture to the audio came one hot August night. When we went to bed, I asked Melinda

"Can we leave the door open tonight. It's so hot in here that we need to get some air circulation.. I should open the drapes as well. Probably we should sleep naked as well."




Mellow Yellow Ch. 17



Melinda agreed and I left the door open. I went over to the window and pulled the drapes open. The moon was almost full and in the right position to let Vanessa see what was going on. I dropped my pajamas on the floor and climbed in bed. The cool breeze was pleasant as we lay on top of the bed. I thought Melinda might get into the mood as it cooled down so I moved close to her, putting my arm around her waist. My other hand found Melinda's smooth bum and her sigh told me that I was right about her mood.

Melinda turned and embraced me with the passion that only an oriental woman can show. I looked up to see if my audience had made it upstairs on time. Yes, I could make out half a white nightgown in the doorway. We kissed for a while and I caressed Melinda's smooth, tiny ass so that Vanessa could appreciate the technique involved with a slow hand. Then, I moved to Melinda's breasts, hoping that they weren't so small that they wouldn't show up in the darkness, Melinda sighed appreciatively. Melinda's breasts may have been small but they were packed full of feeling.

I then caressed Melinda's stomach and teased her up and down her the inside of her legs. Was Vanessa was taking all this in, I wondered? Finally, I stopped the teasing and I opened Melinda's tight pussy lips and gently slid my finger up between her wet inner lips, just to below her erect clitoris. After a little stimulation, Melinda sighed more deeply:

"Oh Paul, your finger is so gentle. Don't stop. Don't stop. I'm coming. Ah-Ah-Ah!"

I checked the doorway and the white nightgown was in full view now. My finger was on top of Melinda's clitoris and I knew she had finished coming when it shrank. Melinda lay still with her legs apart. I got on top in the 69 position and Melinda grabbed my dick. I dove between Melinda's legs, licking her sweet pussy with my tongue. Melinda sucked on my dick in time with my tongue work. I kept my tongue below her clitoris until I sensed it growing again. 

I rolled Melinda over and got her ready for a doggie. I was careful to position her so that our audience could get the best view of my dick. I paused so that the whole length was in view, outlined by the moonlight. Was that a gasp of awe that I heard? Melinda put her bum in the air so I could clearly see her pussy. I crawled towards her and Melinda begged me to slip my dick in, I was sure that Vanessa was anxious to see the poke, so I obliged both women. I reached down and parted Melinda's pussy lips with one hand and held my dick with the other. Melinda was always tight after coming but a bit of searching found the target. I put my hands on Melinda's hips, making sure I didn't obscure the audience's view and I pulled her towards me.

Melinda grunted as I pushed in slightly and said to take it slow. I slipped my dick in ever so slowly. That always drove Melinda crazy, especially when she was tight after an orgasm. Then she sighed and said I was just great. I pushed in some more and Melinda started sighing in a high pitch. Then, I pushed back on Melinda's hips until I was almost falling out. I hoped that the moonlight would catch the wet parts of my dick so that Vanessa could see how wet Melinda was. Ever so slowly, I pulled on Melinda's hips and ever so slowly slid in my dick. No matter how deep I stuck my dick in, I always pulled it out just to the tip. The whole length of my dick glistened in the semi-darkness.

I took my time on each stroke. I had to make sure that Vanessa could see the full length of my dick disappear inside Melinda's pussy before I took it out again. I wanted to keep the show going as long as I could. I was the star of this porno show and I was making an epic film.

"Faster Paul. Make me come. You're driving me crazy, you're so slow.

Finally, I think that Melinda got fed up. She pulled away, shoved me on the bed and started to climb on top of me. I positioned myself so that Vanessa could see Canadian dick standing tall and true, like a Douglas fir in the forest. I was also ideally positioned so that Vanessa could see Canadian dick disappear into Vietnamese pussy. Melinda unceremoniously stuck my dick in and started working my dick in and out of herself I raised my head and looked down between Melinda's legs. Between upstrokes and downstrokes, I was sure that I could make out that the hem of white nightie was rising. I could discern an inverted U where one brown hand was holding it up, making room for the other brown hand to rub Filipina crotch. What colour were a Filipina's pussy lips anyway?

I didn't get much time to ponder this mystery of life. Melinda made short work of my dick and of herself. She worked my dick in and out so rapidly and so expertly that she came quickly and quietly for her. What could I do? I came as well. I could hear Vanessa breathing and trying to stifle her gasps as she came in the doorway.

Melinda lay on top of me and my sticky semen dripped from her beaver and from the tip of my semi-soft dick. I hoped that Vanessa was getting a good shot of that for her education. Melinda then got off me saying, "I'm not finished with you yet." She grabbed my cock, wiped the tip on her wrist and then took my dick in her mouth. Melinda expertly sucked my dick hard again. Hot damn! I thought my show was over but it was just the beginning of scene 2.

My dick was hard enough to Melinda's specifications, so she climbed back on top and slipped it back in. Lubricated by lots of semen, I didn't feel the slightest resistance as I went back in for seconds. Melinda quickly buried me so that her pussy lips were spread wide open and her bush was soaking in the mess in my bush. She started again rapidly working my dick in and out. Having just come, my dick was locked in a hard-on and no inclination to shoot off again. By now, my stomach and hips were smeared with semen, allowing Melinda's thighs to glide over me without any friction.

Melinda worked herself up by rubbing her clitoris. It was hard, swollen and visible in the middle of her spread pussy. Melinda's strokes became shorter and faster until she just jammed my dick all the way in and I felt her fingers rubbing furiously between my stomach and her pussy. Then Melinda gave a long squealing gasp of ecstasy. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

When she stopped coming Melinda politely asked, "Did you come yet, Paul?"

She seemed disappointed that I hadn't come but, like a dutiful wife, started taking my dick in and out and squeezing as hard as she could. I was determined to keep the show going as long as I could. Melinda was getting tired and frustrated:

"Come you white bastard. I'm fucking the daylights out of you. Why won't you come?"

I took a peek between Melinda's legs and I saw that the nightie in the doorway was up again. My dick was still hard and stiff when Melinda gave up and rolled off me. The show must go on, so I rolled Melinda on her stomach and pulled on her hips so she was back in the doggie position.

"So you wouldn't let your white bastard finish his doggie, would you?"

This time I didn't take it slowly. I shoved my dick and started to furiously pound Melinda's pussy from the back. My stomach was slapping loudly on Melinda's bum with a slightly squishy overtone of semen being spread on smooth yellow bum cheek. I could hear in my left ear Vanessa gasping and groaning in orgasm. Vanessa's orgasms were lower-pitched than Melinda's but could still be termed squeaky. It got me so excited that I came along with Vanessa. To my surprise, Melinda came one last time as well. The three of us were so noisy that I was afraid that we would wake up the children.

As I pulled out my dick, I glanced to the left but all I saw was the edge of a white nightie disappearing towards the stairs. Melinda was so exhausted that she just rolled over and dozed off. She didn't even bother trying to clean the mess. That wasn't like her. The nurse in her tried to keep everything sanitary. Actually, I thought the feel of the semen drying was quite cool on a hot night.

I just lay back and thought about the show I had put on. The sex with Melinda was great but I found that Vanessa watching me was new and exciting. It was like I was a private porn star for a young woman from Manila. Was enjoying myself in front of a voyeur perverted? Maybe, but I was going to leave our bedroom door open from now on. I fell asleep dreaming about all the new situations this new porn star was going to show his audience.



Mellow Yellow Ch. 18



Vanessa peeked at Melinda and me screwing almost every time we had sex over the next couple of months, at least as far as I could tell. Bedtime for the kids was the cue that it was show time for Melinda and Paul. Saturday nights used to be Hockey Night in Canada but for Melinda and me they became Nookie Night in Canada. I was losing track of how the team was doing because my attention was now directed towards screwing Melinda in the TV room in front of my own appreciative audience. I was the number one scorer in the porn star league and I played every position. I may have had only one fan, but she was a very appreciative one. During the week, I made sure that the bedroom door was open every night, to improve the air circulation, of course.

By fall, Melinda announced that she was three months pregnant. I guess I should have expected that I would knock up Melinda, the way we were going at it. Actually, we had three great kids already and I wouldn't be disappointed if we had a fourth. Melinda's pregnancy created just one small problem for me. During Melinda's previous pregnancies, I got cut off completely after the third month. Vietnamese women are so slight in stature that they always balloon up when they're pregnant. Melinda was no different from the average. With her huge stomach, she found sex, even at half-dick, very uncomfortable. Melinda wouldn't even blow me off when she was pregnant. She said that the smell and taste of my dick gave her morning sickness. I guess, with her hormones out of shape, she couldn't take any male hormones.

Just the thought of being cut off for six months was a real drag in itself. I'm not a guy who enjoys cold showers or gets off from pulling the wire. I had gotten over all the previous six-month hiatuses in our sex life with no lasting ill effects that I could see. This time was different because Vanessa was now involved in our sex life. How could I put on a show all by myself? Instead of proudly putting my stick on display, I went back to watching the stickwork on the Hockey Channel.

About a week after Melinda's announcement, I was sitting at my desk in my home office. I was trying to get some work done while keeping my mind off sex, or lack of same. Vanessa knocked on the open door and entered my office. She was braless so that I could see her tits outlined by her T-shirt, just like the first day she came to work for us. She was wearing a pair of black, tight pants that showed off her ass and what she had between her thighs. She came and stood close enough to me sitting in my swivel chair that her crotch was less than half a meter from my face and right at my eye level.

"I took Tanya to the kindergarten this morning, Mr. Miskeivitch. Lin is having a nap in her crib and Damien is amusing himself in his playpen."

"That's fine Vanessa. Do you need to go out for a while? Just give me the child monitor and I'll take care of everything."

"Mrs. Tran is at work."

"Yes, Vanessa. She goes to work every morning. Melinda won't be on maternity leave for a long time. Is there something you want, Vanessa."

By now, nothing surprised me about our nanny. Vanessa answered: "Yes, there is something I want. Please come to my room and fuck me. I know that you and Mrs. Tran haven't had sex for a week. Don't you miss sex at all?"

"And how do you know we haven't had sex for a week?"

Vanessa hesitated slightly. "I've been watching you."

Call me weak, call me disloyal to Melinda, call me what you want. I know that I should have given Vanessa shit for watching us and then propositioning me. Maybe it was the kinky side of me but I had never talked to a voyeur about their "interests", especially one who watched me. As a writer of erotica, this was something that I had to look into. Look at it this way: I wasn't talking dirty or seducing my nanny. I was performing "research" for my stories.

"So you've been watching us. Tell me all about it. Tell me what you saw and what you felt when you saw it. How often did you watch us? Why did you watch us instead of finding a boyfriend?"

Vanessa pulled the side chair over and sat down, assuming the lotus position. Her sandals dropped to the floor, exposing her thin brown feet. I saw finely manicured toenails pointing towards me from beneath her knees. As Vanessa straightened her back, she provided a great crotch shot. I could see clearly the seam of skimpy panties disappearing around her inner thighs and the outline of her slit through her black pants. Vanessa had opened wide the Gates of Hell and was beckoning me to enter.

I tried to compose myself. I raised my gaze past her thin waist and flat stomach, pausing on the way up to take in Vanessa's firm tits. Her nipples were erect. My eyes continued upwards, past even white teeth and an ever-present smile. Our eyes made contact. I stared into her lovely brown pools and realized that Vanessa was thoroughly enjoying me ogling her. The voyeur was now putting on her own show.

I put an end to the show by asking Vanessa how her voyeurism came about. Vanessa explained that Filipinas are taught to repress their sex urges and to retain their virginity until marriage. All this secrecy and repression naturally made Vanessa curious as to what sex was all about. She read sex manuals and chatted on the singles sites but the first time she saw the real thing was when she caught Melinda and me on the couch. Vanessa said that the sight of us making love was more fascinating than anything she had ever witnessed in her life. She claimed that she was so hooked on watching us that she knew she had found her perversion in life: voyeurism. 

Vanessa gave us both four stars for our performances. She said she thought Melinda was beautiful but she had never before seen a naked man until she saw me. Vanessa said that she always liked me as a person but seeing my, uh, physical attributes convinced her that she wanted to have sex with me. Suddenly, I realized that Vanessa was seducing me and she was damn good at it. She played on the fact that I had never fucked a Filipina, at least not one that I ever wrote about. Vanessa sensed that I was a sucker for brown eyes and she used hers to good effect. She was quite convincing that she would never tell Melinda about us, not even this conversation if I turned her down.

Vanessa started describing the great fucks she had seen Melinda and me engage in. Vanessa became more and more graphic in her descriptions and the memory of great fucks of the past got me hornier. My "research" was giving me a good woodie. Finally, Vanessa came up with a line that no married man could possibly resist.

"So you see, Mr. Miskeivitch, when you stopped having sex with Mrs. Tran, I was really at sea as it were. What should a simple girl from Baguio City do, as it were? I am sexually unfulfilled and now my employer is sexually unfulfilled. I have a problem and you have a problem. The only solution for your problem and for my problem is if I substitute for Mrs. Tran. Can't you see that this will be good for both of us?"

Vanessa stopped talking. The logic of her proposition sank into my head. Sex without guilt and benefits for all. With reasoning like that, could I do anything but agree? She took my hand and grabbed the baby monitor with her other hand. We walked quietly downstairs to her bedroom and closed the door. Wordlessly, Vanessa placed the baby monitor on the dresser, raised her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, letting her tits bob around in their newfound liberty. They were firm and a little larger than Melinda's tits. Her brown nipples were erect. Then she reached to her hip and unzipped her black slacks, removing them gracefully. My nanny was almost naked in front of me and I was so dumbfounded by what was going on that I didn't move or speak. 

Vanessa came over and started to fumble inexpertly with my belt. That brought me back to reality. I said, "Here's how you do that." Vanessa wasn't any taller than Melinda so I took my shirt off while Vanessa unzipped my pants and slowly let her hands glide gently down my legs. This was no show; she had never felt hairy white legs before. I thought she was going to suck my dick but Vanessa just stared at the big bulge in front of my briefs. Vanessa couldn't stop being a voyeur even when she finally had her hands on a man.

Cognizant that we didn't have a lot of time, I pulled Vanessa to her feet and walked her over to her bed. Vanessa pulled the sheets and blanket down and crawled in ahead of me. I jumped in and Vanessa was all over me, rubbing her tits over my chest and smothering me with kisses. Vanessa was acting just like Melinda did when she was aggressive. Still, there was something hesitant and tentative about the way Vanessa was acting, as if she was reading from a book and applying the knowledge for the first time.

Vanessa's manner didn't stop me from enjoying myself. The feel of Vanessa's body next to mine was indescribable. She was smooth all over and she radiated the warmth of horniness. I don't know what shampoo Vanessa used but the smell of her hair was unique. It was feminine and it turned me on so much that my dick began to hurt, confined in my briefs. I pulled them off with my free hand and my white dick slapped against brown thigh. Vanessa reached down and touched my dick so gently that I thought I would shoot off right there.

"Oh Mr. Miskeivitch. You don't know how many times I've looked at this and wanted to run and touch it. I can't believe I'm doing it. But it seems so big up close. How does it ever fit inside Mrs. Tran?"

"It'll fit just fine. Relax, Vanessa. I've wanted to kiss those tits of yours ever since I saw them through your T-shirt when you first arrived. Hold my dick a little more firmly but don't hurt me while I kiss your tits."

With those instructions, I began to kiss Vanessa's tits, working my way up the sides of one and cupping the other without touching the nipples. I could drive Melinda crazy this way and it seemed to work on Filipinas as well.

I placed my hand on Vanessa's panties and they were soaked through to the outside. Actually, I could have gotten to Vanessa's pussy from almost any direction I wanted, as Queen Victoria was dead and Victoria's Secret ruled Vanessa's underwear collection. However, I chose the traditional route and deftly slid my hand under the elastic and over wet, straight pubes. Vanessa instinctively parted her legs with a huge sigh. Vanessa had more bush than Melinda had but I had no problem locating her slit. With a white woman, you can get lost in that tangle of hair. I slid my finger between Vanessa's inner lips and up towards her clitoris. Vanessa was super wet.

"Oh, that's how you touch Mrs. Tran. Oh, it's so good. You touch me so much more gently than I touch myself."

Vanessa started to tremble and then came in a gasping orgasm, far louder than when she was merely a voyeur. When Vanessa stopped coming, I pulled off her panties and got between her legs. I thought about going down and eating some brown pussy for lunch. After all, Vanessa had seen me do that to Melinda and she did ask for what Melinda got. I realized I better not because I was afraid that Melinda might telephone or that Lin or Damien might need attention. I reached down and parted her stiff pussy lips and found her entrance. I pressed in my dick; no I shoved it in. Damn, the woman was tight.

Vanessa winced as I shoved in my dick faster than I wanted to but she relaxed when I got it all in. Damn, she was tight. I couldn't hold back and just shot my load. I pulled out my dick. I was going to hold Vanessa and tell her how good she was when we heard the sound of Damien starting to cough over the baby monitor. Vanessa became the dutiful nurse and jumped out of bed. She opened her dresser drawer, took out a panty liner and stuffed it between her legs. Vanessa quickly dressed and left with the baby monitor in one hand and trying to organize her hair with the other hand.

I had a little more time to get dressed. As I bent over to put my socks on, I glanced at the bedsheet. There was a large bloodstain in the depression that Vanessa's ass formed. Now I knew why she needed a panty liner when she wasn't wearing one before. Vanessa wasn't putting me on about her lack of experience. I had just fucked a virgin.

During the next few months, I became quite religious. No, I didn't feel so guilty about adultery that I spent all my time in church trying to make up for my sins. No, I wasn't guilty about taking away Vanessa's virginity. Vanessa, the following Sunday after we first fucked, announced that she wanted to visit my Polish Church to see what her fellow Catholics were up to. Melinda offered to mind the kids while Vanessa and I went to church. Melinda was nominally Catholic, as her father had her baptized against her Buddhist mother's wishes. However, I never heard her express the slightest interest in religion. She always said that, after the way the conflict between Catholics and Buddhists had torn apart Vietnam, she never wanted anything to do with religion.

Every Sunday for the next six months, Vanessa and I got in the car and drove off to morning Mass. Except that, we didn't stop at the church. We drove right past the Polish Church of the Black Madonna, directly to the No-Tell Motel on the other side of town. Instead of checking into the confessional, we checked into a bedroom with an hourly rate. Instead of listening to one of Father Bogdan's long, boring sermons, I listened to Vanessa's long, vocal orgasms. I became a regular worshiper at the Temple of the Brown Madonna.

To tell you the truth, Vanessa and I got it on three or four times a week, including Sundays. Sometimes during the evening, we would have a quickie whenever I went down to the basement to get a tool to fix something. I became a real handyman while Melinda was pregnant and Vanessa learned how to take care of my tool as well. Sometimes the quickie was with Vanessa perched on the edge of the downstairs bathroom sink. Other times, I took her against the wall of her bedroom or in a doggie on her bed.

Twice a week, Melinda would go out to the obstetrician and leave Vanessa and me in the house with our two little ones. When Damien and Lin took their morning nap, Vanessa would stand halfway in the door in the white nightie she always wore when she was spying on Melinda and me. Then she would whisper: "Does Daddy feel like a little rest as well?" Vanessa knew what turned me on. I was always ready for a "nap" in Vanessa's room.

On those occasions, we had a little more time than with a quickie. That allowed me to extend the pleasure of making love to Vanessa's smooth brown body. However, it was still not ideal, as we had to finish before Melinda's return or be careful not to attract the toddler's attention to what "Daddy was doing to Vanessa in her room." During one of my "naps", I noticed that Vanessa had installed three large mirrors on the walls of her room.

"Vanessa, why do you need three mirrors in your room. Isn't one good enough for putting on makeup?"

"Well, I need one for makeup, the full length mirror to make sure that my clothes are on right and a third one so I can see my back."

I got out of bed and checked out the mirrors. They were placed quite awkwardly for playing Barbie doll with you, in my opinion. I got back into bed and took another look at the mirrors. Now, I could see Vanessa and me stretched full-length on the bed.

"You put these up so you could watch yourself, my little pervert. You like voyeurism so much that you spent your own money to put in mirrors." I gave Vanessa a hug and complimented her on her consistency. After that, I started watching myself screwing Vanessa in the mirrors. It was twice as kinky, with Vanessa watching me as well as me watching myself.

Yes, weekday "naps" were good but Sundays were my favourite day of the week to fuck Vanessa. There was a distinctive lack of mirrors in the hourly motel suite so Vanessa had to pay attention to me instead of checking herself out. Call it male ego but I much prefer sex when the woman acknowledges that there's a guy in the room. Sundays, I took my time with my lovemaking, enjoying every part of Vanessa's smooth brown body. I taught Vanessa the various sexual positions that Melinda and I enjoyed, the doggie, the horsy, the wall job, the missionary, the tongue job, etc. 

Men, you haven't had oral sex until you've had it with an oriental woman. The taste and the smell will drive you wild. Vanessa's pussy had the same vague smell of nuoc mam as Melinda, probably because of the pastise in Filipino cuisine. Yet, there is still something clean and feminine in oriental pussy. Taste and smell are only part of eating oriental pussy. When you give an oriental woman the tongue, she responds. She doesn't act "Ho-hum, I really expected this from you," the way white women do. They give back more than the man gives.

On the other hand, I never could get Vanessa to take my dick into her mouth. I don't think that it was because she didn't like the smell of white dick. After all, she never even got her nose close to my dick. I'm almost sure that oriental women don't have a problem with the smell of white dick. Melinda certainly doesn't and, from what Susan Wu tells us in her letters, she can eat Charles' dick like dim sum. I put Vanessa's hesitance down to a lack of experience on her part. I assured myself that, given enough time; I could get my dick in Vanessa's mouth.

Another odd behaviour I noticed in Vanessa was, whenever we tried something different, she would invariably ask, "Do I do this better than Mrs. Tran?" Of course, I always had to say yes, even if I thought Melinda's experience gave her the edge. You see, there was something oddly mechanical about the way Vanessa made love, as if she really wasn't having fun. At first I put it down to Vanessa getting her instructions from sex manuals. Remember how your hockey coach could chalk out all kinds of plays but you always had to go practice before you could make the play naturally? But Vanessa never fucked totally naturally. It was always like she was holding back something about herself. Was her heart really in this?

Yet, I always wondered why Vanessa always asked about Melinda and the way she made love.. Was Vanessa that insecure? Was Vanessa competing with Melinda for me? Finally, it hit me. Vanessa wasn't watching me screw Melinda. She had been watching how Melinda screwed me.

It hurt me that Vanessa thought Melinda was the remarkable one, not me and my dick. I had always thought that oriental women had a thing for me. I always imagined that every oriental woman wanted to tear my clothes off and start eating bananas. The only thing that kept them from doing just that was cultural restraints. Now I discovered that Vanessa was screwing me just because she hero-worshipped Melinda.

The other strange thing about Vanessa that bothered me was her lack of a sense of humour. For example, I asked her once on our way home from a motel fuck:

"Shouldn't we actually go to church some Sunday just so we aren't lying to Melinda?"

Vanessa took me seriously. "Do you think that I could go and confess to the priest that I've been screwing my boss and then take Mass in good conscience, knowing that I was going to screw my boss again? No, when a Filipina says that she will sin no more, she means it."

"Does that mean that you won't go to church again?"

"No. Sometime our affair must end. When it does, I'll go to confession, tell the priest what I've done and won't do in the future. Then I can take Mass."

Now that I think about guilt, the only time that I regret fucking Vanessa was the last time we screwed. That was the day that Melinda gave birth to our fourth child. She began labour in the afternoon and I took her to the hospital right away. Melinda wasn't in labour long and I left after making sure everything was OK. I got home at nine in the evening. Vanessa opened the door. I hung up my jacket.




Mellow Yellow Ch. 18



"It's a boy. We're giving him a Vietnamese name, Cadeo. There weren't any complications and Melinda and Cadeo are doing well."

"Congratulations Mr. Miskeivitch. I'm so happy that Mrs. Tran is OK. I really love her like a sister."

"I know that. So, why have we been having this affair if you love Melinda so much."

"I do it out of love for the both of you. Mrs. Tran couldn't make love to you so I was helping you both. Now we must go back to the way things were."

There was finality and resolve in Vanessa's words. It was a new experience for me. Women in the past dumped me because their boyfriend was back in town. I had never been dumped because my wife was back in town. I always hated getting dumped so I tried to convince Vanessa to make love to me one more time.

"I don't want it to go back right away. I want to make love to you one more time. Come on upstairs with me. I want to make love to you for one last time and I want to do it in our bed."

After snooping on and screwing Vanessa for so long, I think I became a good judge of her character. Her stubborn resolve melted and she let me take her hand. Vanessa admired Melinda so much that she had to fuck me in the same bed as Melinda. I knew that the kinkiness of the situation was too much for the nanny to pass up. I'll be frank with you; screwing Vanessa in our bed appealed to my kinky side as well.

Just before Vanessa was about to crawl stark naked into bed, I stopped her and gave her one of Melinda's Chinese dragon pattern pajamas to put on.

"If all you've been doing is just substituting for Melinda, you've got to do it right. Put this on."

Vanessa took the pajamas and put them on with a slightly guilty look on her face. We both got under the covers from opposite sides of the bed, the way married couples always do. Vanessa just lay there for a minute. She seemed to be trying to sense and absorb Melinda's presence. Slowly, Vanessa's face took on the same sly smile as Melinda had whenever she has horny. Whatever works, I thought. Vanessa's eyes popped open.

"It's so cold here. How can Mrs. Tran stand it?"

"She uses me to warm up. That's why people get married. Now, come over to my side and I'll warm you up the same way I warm up Melinda."

Vanessa eagerly slid over to my side and cuddled up to me with her back to me. I put my arms around her and started to kiss her shoulder. Vanessa began to breathe deeply as I caressed her body over Melinda's pajamas. I don't know what came over me at that moment but I said, "Melinda, I've missed you so much." To my surprise, Vanessa responded "I've missed you too, Paul." That was the only time that Vanessa ever called me by my first name. Not only that, she said my name exactly the same way that Melinda did when we were screwing.

I put both my hands under the pajama top and cupped my hands on Vanessa's tits. To my surprise, she responded exactly as Melinda did with some sighing. I gently ran Vanessa's nipples between my fingers and Vanessa sighed some more: "That's so good Paul." I buried my nose in Vanessa's hair. She had started using Melinda's shampoo.

I then kissed Vanessa's shoulderblades while I was holding both her tits in my hands, just like I did to Melinda. Vanessa gave out high-pitched sighs just like Melinda did. I agree that this was sick, fucking another woman while my wife was in the hospital, having just given birth. Sick as I now realize it was, at the time, it was one of the most exciting fucks of my life. As a result, I had such a woodie that I had to take my pajama bottoms off to make some room. At the same time, I pulled down Vanessa's bottoms to mid-thigh and poked my dick between her thighs from the back. Yes, it was wet and, yes, it was just what I would do to Melinda 

I had one hand on Vanessa's tit, one hand caressing her hip and stomach and my dick between her thighs. Vanessa was going wild from all this action. She reached down to play with herself but I caught her hand.

"That's my job. Melinda always lets me play with her first."

"Oh yes, Paul. Play with me. You have such gentle hands. You can play me like I'm a violin"

That was what Melinda would say. Vanessa was playing Melinda like an actress and I was playing Melinda/Vanessa like a violin. I reached down and caressed Vanessa's wet mound. Vanessa raised a leg and I took advantage of the space to part Vanessa's outer lips. I let my finger slide slowly up between her inner lips just to the side of her clitoris. Vanessa gave out a long "Ohhhhh." Then I went back and brought my finger up again and again, a little faster each time. Vanessa's "ohs" came faster and faster. That's how Melinda liked her finger jobs and Vanessa was reacting exactly the same way. When Vanessa came, only then did I finger the top of the clitoris, and very gently to keep her going.

I then grabbed my dick with one hand from the back and parted Vanessa with the other hand from the front. I pushed my dick in very slowly, enjoying Vanessa's wetness and tightness. "Now you can play with yourself if you want." Vanessa just let me continue until I was in as far as I could get in this position. Then Vanessa started to play with herself and I could feel her begin to tighten up inside. The combination of tighter than tight brown cunt and Vanessa's moans of enjoyment meant that I couldn't take it any more and I came as well.

We just lay there as my dick softened and finally plopped out and hung limp. Since I wasn't in very far plus having shot off bucketsful, Vanessa's fanny quickly became sticky and soaked. Vanessa sat up, leaving a big stain on the bed.

"I want all of that big dick of yours. I want to fuck you horsy style."

"But Melinda my love. My dick is soft now. Can you make me hard again?"

I had to push the envelope and make Vanessa suck dick, even if she didn't like it. I had to see if she was really into the role playing. Vanessa hesitated, as I expected, and then she took my dick in her mouth, sperm and all, for the first time in our affair, the same way as Melinda. Vanessa had a hidden talent for sucking dick as she was gentle but relentless. In no time I was hard and she was on top of me.

Vanessa took my dick in one hand and inserted it in her cunt with a squishy sound. All the liquid provided super lubrication. I felt myself sliding inside, Vanessa tightly enclosing my dick, yet without effort or strain. Vanessa's wet bum cheeks rested on my hips and the tip of my dick hit the end of her cunt. Vanessa grunted and raised herself a little. Then she dropped on me again, thrusting my dick to the end. Vanessa then rapidly raised herself and dropped again and again. She had gotten to the short strokes already and no way was I even close to coming. Vanessa rode me like she was on a bull at the Calgary Stampede. This time, she came with a scream that I was sure would wake up the children.

Vanessa looked at me and said, "I hope you came. I'm exhausted."

"No I didn't. But the real Melinda wouldn't give up until her man was truly well fucked."

Vanessa started again bouncing up and down but I detected more grinding on my dick this time. It kind of reminded me of things Mrs. Nguyen, the old Saigon whore, would do to me. This time, Vanessa was doing it just for my pleasure, as would Melinda, I kept reminding her. Then, the strangest thing happened. Vanessa started stroking her pussy and she got into the fuck again. With Vanessa having fun and tightening up, I finally came again. This time my dick softened quickly and fell out.

Vanessa just rolled off me and rolled over and fell asleep. I thought it was just guys who did that. As I dropped off to sleep on my side of the bed, I thought that was the only time that Vanessa was really being herself, not applying theoretical knowledge of sex. It was the only time I seemed to connect with the inner Vanessa. How could that be, when she wasn't playing herself but role playing as Melinda? I fell asleep trying to resolve this logical disconnect. Probably I will never understand women, never mind Vanessa.

When I woke up in the morning, I was alone in the bed and Vanessa was already downstairs making breakfast for the children. I came down dressed in my pajamas and Vanessa put my breakfast in front of me without a word. The only thing she said was that I shouldn't use too much water in the shower because she wanted to do laundry. Mrs. Tran should have a clean bed to sleep in. The message I got was that she didn't trust me to clean up all the pecker tracks I had left on the sheets and the pajamas.

I agree that that last fuck was really sick, especially what I did. Until then, it was Vanessa who seduced me. Of course, that doesn't make me a hero but this time I seduced Vanessa. Furthermore, I shamelessly used the woman I love, Melinda to unlock Vanessa's pants. After that, I was so ashamed of myself that I was just as happy that Vanessa wanted to finish the affair.

I wondered how Vanessa and I could get along in the same house when Melinda came home with Cadeo. Vanessa hardly even glanced in my direction. It wasn't too hard for her to ignore me because Vanessa just threw herself into her work. Vanessa was the cook, cleaning lady and security guard for Melinda's visitors. She treated Melinda like royalty, leaving Melinda to breast-feed Cadeo, change diapers and generally comfort him when he was cranky. In fact, Vanessa would have been mother in addition to her other duties if Melinda wasn't nursing the new arrival.

I felt neglected when Melinda brought Cadeo home. I put it down to the usual neglect that a father gets when there's a new baby around. In addition, I was losing Vanessa. At first I thought that it was just that Vanessa was busier than usual. I still felt like poking Filipina brown beaver but I never could get Vanessa alone long enough for even a quickie.

The Sunday after Melinda and Cadeo came home, Vanessa announced that she had enough of "Hail Mary" in Polish and was going to church with her other Filipina nanny friends. That's one confession that must have taken an hour for the priest to download. Proclaiming she was returning to her church was Vanessa's way of telling me that our affair was over. With apologies to Paul Simon, now I knew 51 Ways to Say Goodbye to Your Lover. 

OK, so I fucked the Nanny. And, I got away with it, didn't I? After all, Vanessa never said a word about it and even tried to avoid being with me. Melinda never implied that there was anything going on between Vanessa and me while she was pregnant. She never even said one word about how my productivity on my contracts dropped in those six months. Just to be absolutely sure, I fired up my snooper to monitor both Melinda and Vanessa. When Melinda wrote to Susan Wu, she never asked Susan's advice about what to do with a philandering husband. I even bought a Tagalog/English dictionary to figure out what Vanessa was writing home to her family. I never once saw in her letters the Tagalog word for fuck.

It looked like I had gotten away cleanly with an affair. The wife doesn't seem suspicious and the ex-lover wasn't vengeful. I was feeling pretty good about life in general until little signs started popping up that Melinda knew what was going on between Vanessa and me. What's more, I think Melinda probably approved and maybe even encouraged Vanessa.

The first indication I had that I didn't get away with it was the night Melinda came home with the baby. After previous pregnancies, Melinda would always oblige me with blowjobs while she was healing. When she came home with our three other children, Melinda would be on my dick like it was a lollipop the first time we would go to bed. Between licks, Melinda would ask my dick, "Did you miss me? Were you lonely?" Stuff like that. After Cadeo was born, Melinda didn't ask one question, as if it was obvious my dick hadn't been lonely. The strangest thing this time was that Melinda didn't start the blowjob until she had thoroughly looked my dick over. The way she did it was like it had been loaned out and she wanted to be sure it came back in good condition. Remember when your father let you take out the family car alone? Remember how he inspected the car for scratches on the paint or pecker tracks on the upholstery? That's the kind of inspection that Melinda gave my dick. It was strange.

Then, I began noticing other little things. Before I started fucking Vanessa, Melinda and Vanessa would have these woman-to-woman conversations and they wouldn't stop talking if I came into the room. In fact, I had a hard time to interrupt and ask my question. After Melinda came back from the hospital, I would find them talking about the children and the baby mostly. Sometimes, I would find them in a low conversation that stopped as soon as I came into the room. Then they wouldn't resume until I left. Now I'm beginning to think that they were comparing notes on my sexual care and feeding. Was Melinda trying to find out if I was better to Vanessa than I was with her?

Next, I realized that Vanessa wasn't watching us anymore. I was leaving the door open every night but I never spotted the nanny in the doorway again. Tanya confirmed that Vanessa had left her post in the hallway in a rather embarrassing way. She came into our room one night complaining that she had a sore throat, just as Mommy was about to demonstrate her Deep Throat. That was annoying enough but it was Vanessa that really annoyed me. Hadn't Vanessa promised that everything would go back to the way it was before our affair?

The strangest thing that happened was, during the last months of her contract with us, Vanessa started to visibly show she was pregnant. Neither Melinda nor Vanessa ever mentioned the nanny's "condition." Both women just went about their business as if everything was normal. The timing makes me positive that I'm the father. Who else could it be? After our affair ended, Vanessa never went out, so I'm quite sure that she wasn't screwing anyone else. I never put on any rubber when I fucked Vanessa because I just assumed that, being a nurse, she knew all about birth control pills. What did she tell her family when she returned to the Philippines and produced a Eurasian baby? 

So, I am coming more and more to the conclusion that Melinda knew and maybe even approved. Melinda told me that it was no big deal in China or Vietnam for a man to take a concubine or "young wife." Her father never had one but her rich friends had to call some bimbo no older than they were, Mother. Maybe that's the reason; then again, maybe it isn't. 

Maybe Melinda also encouraged Vanessa's voyeurism so she could get pregnant again. Did Melinda know that I was getting off by being watched and that was a good way to get fucked more often? Maybe she knew right from the start that Vanessa, despite her virginity, was curious about sex. Probably, she told Vanessa when she could watch us on the couch in the TV room having some tail.

All this ambiguity is just driving me crazy. I can't ask Melinda if she knew that I was fucking Vanessa when she was pregnant. I would lose face because I wasn't faithful. If Melinda didn't know, she would lose face because she couldn't figure out what was going on. If she did know, she would also lose face because she set me up with Vanessa, against Western moral values. Since I can't find out for sure what Melinda did or what she knows, I am left trying to fathom why Melinda did what I think she did. Probably, I'll never find out. That's why I love Melinda. She can play the inscrutable oriental to the limit, plus she's a female. So, who can understand a woman? Melinda gives me 110% woman.



Mellow Yellow Ch. 19



My name is Melinda Tran thi Mei-Ling. Although I was a student of literature at the university in my native Vietnam, I have never tried my hand at writing a story. Please be patient with this my first effort at writing. Why am I setting down this chapter of the Mellow Yellow series and not my husband Paul? The reason is that what I am about to tell you is too shameful for me to tell Paul. What is not shameful to me would crush Paul's male ego, if he should ever learn the truth about what happened. Can we agree between us that this story will remain the hidden chapter of Mellow Yellow? If you agree to keep this secret for me, please proceed to the rest of this story.

Since this story is a secret, I will tell it to you in the form of three confessions made in secret. There are three confessions because the story is about a ménage à trois. As a mother of four children and happily married to a wonderful man, I am not proud of my part in this. However, I hope that, when you have finished, you will understand me better and understand the events that occurred in the house of Melinda and Paul.

1. Vanessa's Confession

Vanessa mounted the steps of Our Lady of Luzon Roman Catholic Church. She had deliberately arrived early because what she had to say to the priest would not come easily or quickly. She checked out the row of confessionals. Oh shit! Father Reynaldo was the only priest on duty. He was nosey and he gave out lengthy penances to women. In fact, it was rumoured among her fellow nannies that Father Reynaldo hated women. Vanessa had heard as well from the altar boys that Father Reynaldo was a "funny uncle" priest. Definitely, Father Reynaldo had no use for women.

Despite the dread she had of this moment, Vanessa was determined to go through with it, Father Reynaldo or not. She entered the empty booth, knelt down and slid the panel open. At least Father Reynaldo spoke Tagalog. Vanessa could explain her sins in her mother tongue, which would make the confession easier.

"Father, forgive me for I have sinned."

"How long has it been since your last confession, my daughter"

"Six months, Father."

"And what sins have you committed in these past six months, my daughter?"

"I have committed sins of lust, fornication, envy, adultery and the sin of Onan. I have lain with a man who is the husband of another woman."

"That's quite a list of sins, my daughter. Shall we begin with the fornication and adultery? How many times, my daughter?"

"Um, let's see. Three or four times a week over 26 weeks. Can we use a hundred times as a round number, Father?"

"One hundred times you committed adultery with this man? That's terrible. Don't you have any remorse for the woman you wronged?"

"Not at all, Father. In fact, she wanted me to and I complied with her wishes because I love and admire her so much. Can we discuss the sin of lust first and then you will understand the situation?"

"Please go ahead and explain. My head is spinning from what you're telling me."

"I came to this country in the middle of winter on a very cold day. When I left Manila, the temperature was 30 degrees and I arrived in Canada in temperatures well below zero. This country was so strange compared to the Philippines that I began to tremble as I left the airplane. I didn't see any other Filipinos in the whole airport – most people were white but there were a few black and yellow faces but not one I could identify of the Malay race. Every face was so unsmiling. It seemed like Canadians don't enjoy life as we do in the Philippines.

"I found my new employers at the luggage conveyor. Even my new employers looked strange to me. No, they were not strange as in ugly. In fact, the woman was exceedingly beautiful, even if she wasn't a Filipina. No, the strangeness was that the man was white and the woman was yellow. I had not been informed by my agency that I would be working for an interracial couple."

"On our way to where their vehicle was parked, my new employers tried to make me happy with their words but I heard nothing. Their words were hidden behind white clouds coming from their mouths. I have never seen snow before in my life and I thought that it was horrible how it made everything white and featureless. I was cold and miserable and I missed the lush colours of my homeland. Would I ever again see the green palms of my island and smell the scent of papaya blossoms in the morning?"

"When I arrived at my employer's house, I just went to my room, sat down on the side of the bed and cried. Then the strangest thing happened to me. The woman I work for came over to me, sat down beside me, hugged me and spoke comforting words to me."

"Hasn't anyone ever comforted you before, my daughter? It sounds like a very Christian act on the part of the woman."

"Again, you misunderstand what I mean by strange, Father. What I mean is that, when the woman put her arms around me, a feeling of lust welled up within my soul for her. I never felt such sexual desire for any person in my life. As a teenager, I had no interest in boys the way most teenage girls do and the sex act was unthinkable. Yet, now my panties were becoming wet in the arms of this Vietnamese woman. Oh, how radiant and gentle her face and soft her hands…."

"You promised fornication and adultery and yet you are telling me you lust for a woman."

"As a little girl, I was different from the other little girls. I liked the games that the boys played and I usually joined them. I never liked to play with other girls. That was until we became teenagers and the boys realized that I was physically different from them and tried to touch me. After that, I stayed away from the boys. I was just not interested in any physical contact with men. The teenage girls always talked about how they liked the boys and how they would like to have sex with so-and-so. I could never see myself with a man but, for some reason, I was interested in what the men were supposed to do to these girls. I only realized why was the way I was when the woman hugged me."

"But the man forced himself on you, didn't he? Is that how the fornication and adultery happened?"

"Not at all, Father. My employers were kind and thoughtful to me. The man never touched me. I wish I could say that he had eyes only for his beautiful wife but I noticed that he often looked at my body appreciatively. He is after all a man. However, he kept his hands to himself for many months, something I appreciated. I desired to be close to the woman and to feel her hands upon me."

"The woman appreciated my work and my help around the house. I decided to keep my sexual desires submerged but to be with her as much as possible. I became her close confidant and best friend. Yes, I was falling in love for the first time in my life. I thought that, if I could relate to her well enough, she might even desire me as her lover. My strategy worked because our conversation became more and more intimate. She revealed to me that she has a friend in Hong Kong, whom she e-mails regularly. They share all kinds of sexual secrets they never tell their husbands. I think she told me about her friend because she was trying to discover my sexual secrets. One day she asked me:"

"'Vanessa, why don't you ever talk about your sex life. I want to share with you the same way my friend Sui-Beng and I do. Tell me, how do Filipino guys fuck? How good are they? Have you ever fucked a Chinese or a white guy?'"

"I almost blurted out my secret but caught myself. 'I can't answer any of your questions Mrs. Tran. I've never been with any man, white, yellow or brown.'"

"The woman opened her eyes so wide. It was absolutely beyond reason to her that a woman my age could still be a virgin. 'How can you not want to have sex? It's why men and women are made differently. A man and a woman never feel so close as when they are having sex. It's fun. You're not a complete person without it.'"

"I started to explain to her that Filipinos have a different attitude to sex. Most Filipinos are taught that sex is wrong and dirty and to submerge their sexual feelings so that they arrive at the marriage bed virgins. I didn't know how to say that Filipinos are especially prone to submerge any homosexual feelings. I was vague because I wasn't sure how to broach the subject of my sexual orientation and to reveal my sexual feelings for her."

"The woman came to an incorrect conclusion about me. She believed that a lack of first-hand knowledge about sex was at the root of my problems. The woman then showed me how to access dirty pictures on the Internet so I could see how men and women did 'it.' The pictures were technically interesting to me in the sense that I never knew what a penis looked like or what a man used it for. I didn't even know what my parts are used for. Oh Father, my parents never even told me where babies come from. I had to learn that from my girlfriends."

"Although the pictures of men and women were interesting, I discovered dirty pictures of women with women on the Internet. These kinds of pictures aroused me the same way that the first hug from the woman did. I discovered my clitoris on the Internet and how to masturbate in front of the man's computer. The woman found me one day doing myself while surfing the Net but I managed to get rid of the woman's picture from the screen."

"To my surprise, the woman didn't scold me but praised me for my sexual progress. She said, 'Now you're ready for another stage of sexual experience.' She showed me how to find on the computer the erotic stories the man had written. At first, I thought that I would not be interested in the stories because they were all about men with women. But when I read about what the man did to the woman in his stories, I imagined to myself that it was me making love to the woman, not the man. The erotic stories only increased my lust for the woman. The stories also created a desire for erotic literature. I found on the Net the Literotica site. The stories of lesbians became my favourites. I knew now what I was."

Father Reynaldo interrupted, "That was when you first masturbated, committed the sin of Onan?"

"Yes, Father. The Internet introduced me to the sin of Onan. But my search for pornography ended when their daughter began to play games on the computer. The husband bought a Net Nanny and encrypted his erotic stories. I asked the woman what I should do, hoping to play on her sympathy for me and manipulate her. I couldn't afford my own computer, since I sent all my money home to my family in the Philippines. The woman by now considered me such a close friend that she would do anything for me."

"She said, 'I think that you should watch us making love sometime. That way you'll learn that sex between a man and woman is fun, good, exciting, all of these things. Why don't you pretend to go out Saturday night but hide in the back yard? As soon as you see the light go off in my bedroom, come back inside and go to the TV room. I'll seduce my husband on the couch and you can watch from the door. Then you'll get to see real live sex at its best.'"

"I followed her instructions and it was absolutely fascinating how they made love to each other. They were so engrossed in the act that they never saw me standing in the doorway, at least not the man. When he had his head between her legs, I began to have a fantasy that it was my head between her yellow legs and my tongue giving this woman pleasure. My clitoris needed attention but I didn't want to make any sound. Finally, the man plunged his member inside the woman, although I did not see it. I had to run downstairs to my own room. I was so wet between my legs that I had to take care of myself."

"So, Father. I sinned the sin of Onan that night and many nights thereafter. I spent hours with my hand in my crotch, listening to the sound of my employers making love behind closed doors. Finally, I begged the woman to leave open the door. That was when I first saw the man's sexual organ. It seemed to me to be enormous and so long that I thought he would kill the woman. Then I remembered that he had put this organ in the woman before and she was still alive. He did seem to have trouble to put it in the woman because he would slowly put it in and then withdraw it when the woman gasped for breath.

"One thing I didn't understand was the way he put his organ all the way in, withdrew it almost completely and then put it back in again. It was like he found no pleasure inside the woman and kept seeking the pleasure again and again. I would find much pleasure myself by pleasuring the woman. Yet, over and over again he thrust his organ in and out in a seemingly endless quest. There was much I had to learn about sex."

"Finally, the man and woman shuddered and shrieked when they found the mutual pleasure and, yes, I committed the sin of Onan once more. Then the man lay on his back and the woman took the man's member into her mouth and made it long and hard again. She climbed on top of him and sat on him so that his member disappeared again inside of her."

Vanessa heard restless sounds and heavy breathing from Father Reynaldo's side of the confessional and then a cough. "This is interesting, my Daughter, but it doesn't explain how you came to commit fornication and adultery. Did you then join them in their lovemaking?"

"Never, Father. The door was left open thereafter and I spied every night on their intimate moments and I committed only the sin of Onan. How I envied the man! He had access to the woman's body and I was a mere onlooker in these moments. Father, I was tempted to ask if I could join but that would require that I reveal my secret. This evil of mine ended when the woman became pregnant. The woman told me that she didn't like the man to make love to her when her belly was swollen. Then she surprised me."

"'Vanessa, I want you to take care of Paul and have sex with him for the next six months. Don't look at me as if I asked you to do something wrong. It will help us both. You'll overcome your inhibitions and discover what a good screw is like. You'll become a complete woman. So, what do I get out of this? The last time I was pregnant, Paul was SOOOO restless. I know that he's had other women before he met me and that he has to have his pussy regularly. I have a feeling that this time he may do something both of us will regret. If you could take care of Paul for the next six months and, promise me not to get involved with him, it will make this pregnancy worry-free.'"

"Is this an evil thought, Father? I suddenly realized that, if I could study how the man made love, I would discover the things that made him desirable to the woman. Making love to the man would clear my way to the woman's pussy. I would no longer envy the man if I knew what his hold over the woman was. So, I agreed to do this thing. The woman's logic was impeccable and I saw a way of reducing my burden from the sin of envy."

"I formulated a plan to seduce the man based on what I had noticed that he liked about me during the time I had worked for the couple. I put on my tightest pants….."

"I think that you have told me quite enough detail, my daughter. So that is how you came to commit adultery and fornication continuously over six months?"

"Yes, Father, that is how I came to lay with the man and caused him to commit adultery. My sin is the sin of lust, fornication, envy and quite a few of Onan's sins. But I resisted the temptation to lay with the woman, even though the sin of lust is lust for the woman."

"To lay with a woman as if she were a man is an abomination before God."

"Isn't it also an abomination if a man lies with a man as if he were a woman, Father? It's the same thing, isn't it? Aren't I right?"

"Umm, say ten Our Fathers, an equal number of Hail Marys and go and sin no more, my daughter. And please forget about the abominations."

2. Paul's Confession

Paul stood in line in front of the confessional at the Church of the Black Madonna. The events of the past year weighed heavily on his mind. Somehow, he had to rid himself of the demons that had plagued his mind about his affair with Vanessa and his marriage with Melinda. These doubts and questions had arisen even before Vanessa had returned to her homeland in the Philippines.

As the line shortened, Paul noticed that Father Stanislaw was hearing the English confessions. Paul's face brightened. This wouldn't be so bad after all. Father Stan was a real man, not like the stuffy old-before-his-time Father Bogdan. Father Stan would understand. The confessional door opened, the previous penitent scurried off to mass, Paul entered and knelt.

"Father, forgive me for I have sinned."

"How long has it been since your last confession, my son"

"A little over a year. It is because of my sins that I have not sought confession."

"Tell me what you've been up to in the last year but make it snappy, my son. I hate to rush when there's sin to fight but it's getting close to the beginning of Mass and there's a lineup today."

"Father, I have had lustful thoughts about a woman other than my wife."

"It is written in the Holy Word, 'Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.' Adultery is condemned in the Ten Commandments. Say three Hail Marys, two Our Fathers and go and sin no more. You have been absolved of your sins in the Name….."

"I was about to say that things went beyond mental adultery, Father. The woman is not Polish, in fact she's from the Philippines and…"

"Please. We are all God's children and it doesn't make any difference if you lust for a woman of another race. I have a rule on Sunday mornings and that's one sin per sinner. In your case, make it three Our Fathers for any bonus sins you may have. Please, could you take a hike so I can hear the next confession. By the way, try a cold shower for the lust. It works for me."

3. Melinda's Confession

I didn't go to Church for my confession. I haven't been to Mass since I left my family and my former self behind in Vietnam. Perhaps I am destined forever to be a spiritual boat person, in search of my true self, always a foreigner in a strange land. Perhaps that is why I sought my confessor in my one true friend, who lives in a another strange land. Here is the letter I wrote my one true friend in whom I confide:

Dear Sui-Beng:

I apologize deeply for taking so long to return your last e-mail. Yes, Cadeo is a lovely child. Sometimes after I put him in his crib, I just stand there admiring the little tot's face. As you now know from your own Clarence Shen-Ling, Eurasian babies look more like the Asian side of the family than the European side. I try to see if I can make out the face of my father or mother in my child but all I see is Paul's face with shadows of my own. Yes, we have another beautiful child but I have something more important that we must talk over.

This time I must call upon all your skills as a physician, a psychiatrist and a friend. My thoughts and emotions are so mixed up. I love my husband, Paul as surely as you love your Charles. I love my four children equally as you love your son, Shen-Ling. Yet, I have feelings towards a woman that began as sisterly, caring love but have transformed themselves into lustful fascination. I cannot resolve all my conflicting feelings, especially as one of my feelings is, to quote Oscar Wilde, the love that dare not speak its name.

Remember our nanny, Vanessa? I went against your advice and let her, actually encouraged her, to screw Paul while I was pregnant. Why would I let my husband screw another woman, even if I was incapable of doing the job myself? I have told you about how hung-up Vanessa is on sex and how she arrived in Canada a 25 year-old virgin. You said you weren't surprised because you had analyzed many Filipina patients like that. I thought that, if I could get Vanessa well laid, it would cure her sexual hang-ups. What better expert could I find than Paul and that marvelous white dick of his. If Paul couldn't show Vanessa what good sex was like, nobody could.




Mellow Yellow Ch. 19



Before you write back that I did something wrong, was my helping Vanessa any different from how you cured Charles of his impotence? You had to take Charles' dick in hand, as it were, yourself to ensure that he was introduced to sex properly by an expert Chinese woman. If I wanted expertise to introduce Vanessa to sex, I had to entrust my good friend to someone I could be sure wouldn't hurt her.

I had no doubt that Paul would come back to me when I was ready and Vanessa ended their affair. He's fond of saying "Once you've tried yellow, you're always her fellow." If Paul has any sexual hang-up, it's an addiction to yellow pussy. In fact, every time I've been pregnant, Paul has been so whiny about the fact that he couldn't fuck me that I was afraid that he would go looking for yellow pussy elsewhere. Whenever we go out for Chinese or Vietnamese food, the waitresses are always flirting with him, right in front of me and the children no less. And Paul just sits there and lets them fawn over him in front of me. Men can be so thoughtless!

So, it was preferable that Paul have a fling with someone I trusted and someone who wasn't of our race rather than some tart waitress. Vanessa and I became very close friends. I made her promise that she wouldn't get involved with Paul and end the affair once I gave birth. .I trusted her that, once her "therapy" was over, she would return Paul to me as we agreed. If I could trust the woman with my children, my most precious possession, I could trust her with my second most valuable item, my husband's dick. So, letting the two of them have an affair would be good for the three of us.

I thought my scheme worked because Paul came back to me without the slightest bit of hesitation. He made love to me as if nothing had transpired the first night I came home. Of course, I could only manage a blowjob, I was still so sore. Paul was so passionate to me that I wondered if Vanessa had just been telling me stories about the two of them in the basement and at the motel. I even looked his dick over to see if any brown colour had rubbed off on it. I decided that Paul was so attentive because he was overreacting to hide an affair, an affair that was truly over. No man could give two women all the attention that Paul was lavishing on me. Sui-Beng, don't you think men are so silly when they believe their wives don't know when they're boinking another woman?

I didn't mind all the attention. A post-pregnant woman always wonders if she will get her figure back and be attractive again. I must admit that Paul's attentions helped me avoid the blues after giving birth. After I healed, it was SOOOO good to have Paul's dick stirring up the inside of me again where it belonged. Maybe Paul is hung up on yellow pussy but I'm just as hung up on his big, circumcised white dick.

When Cadeo was two months old, Paul had to go out of town on a business trip. Although I was happy to have him all to myself, I actually welcomed his absence. Every time I tried to get a private moment with Vanessa to see if my plan had erased her hang-ups, Paul would walk into the room. Until now, Vanessa had only been able to tell me where they had been together and what they had done. Big deal. A woman isn't interested in the mechanical aspects of sex. She wants to know about feelings. It takes a lot of time to draw feelings out of another person.

The first night Paul was away, Vanessa cooked supper and I agreed to put the children to bed. As soon as I assured the older children that there were no monsters under their beds, and that the baby was asleep, I tiptoed to Vanessa's bedroom in the basement. She was lying in her bed in a flimsy silk negligée, flicking through the TV channels with the remote. I thought to myself, "That's a good sign. Vanessa's taste in lingerie has improved since her 'therapy.'" As soon as I entered her bedroom, she flashed a smile and shut off the TV.

"We have to talk, Vanessa. I'm dying to know what the experience was like for you. May I compliment you on the good care that you took of Paul when I was pregnant. Do you know that you gave him back to me better than ever and much more fun?"

"Are you and Mr. Miskeivitch screwing again, Mrs. Tran?" Her reaction was slightly strange, a look of disappointment, almost jealousy.

"Of course. We agreed that you wouldn't get involved with Paul. And I thank you that you kept your end of the bargain. But tell me, isn't he great? Did he cure you of your fear of sex?"

"It was wonderful, Mrs. Tran. I learned so much from Mr. Miskeivitch. I think the best part of the experience was what a tongue can do for a woman. Now, I want to show you how well I learned his technique."

Vanessa shocked me so much with what she was suggesting that I dropped the baby monitor. I stood up and backed away from the bed, as if I had heard something horrible. I gasped, "Vanessa, what are you saying? Are you a lesbian? I never knew such a thing existed in all Asia?"

Vanessa replied, "I can't speak for all Asia. I can only speak for myself. What I am, I can't tell you. All I know is that I have loved you like a sister, no, more than a sister. As I watched Mr. Miskeivitch hold you in his arms, I wanted it to be me holding you. I longed to caress your golden skin, Mei-Ling, and to express my love to you."

Vanessa pulled the covers off herself, slowly and seductively. The negligée just covered enough of her thighs to preserve Filipina modesty. I was so hypnotized by my nanny's sensual movements that I couldn't move when she came face to face with me. Vanessa put two creamy soft brown arms around my waist. Her arms were so gentle and smooth that her caresses seemed to be like a carafe of café-au-lait pouring over my body. I was so mesmerized that I didn't realize that she moved her hands so that one was on my bum and the other was on my shoulder blades, exactly the way Paul would hold me. Vanessa was surprisingly strong and forced a kiss upon my lips.

Vanessa lifted my houserobe with one hand and stroked my bum cheek exactly in the same manner as Paul did. Except it wasn't like Paul caressing me. Vanessa's hands were a woman's hands, soft and gentle, caressing me softly without tickling. The situation was so strange to me but oddly exciting. I felt dampness on my pussy lips. She kissed me again with her mouth slightly parted and her tongue playing on my lips. To my surprise, a woman's kiss is no different from a man's kiss.

Vanessa untied my houserobe and her soft, gentle hands brushed along my shoulders and down my arms, letting my houserobe fall to the floor. I stood trembling from fear, excitement as well as the cool basement air on my naked body. It was like I was in a dream. I was being unfaithful to my husband and my seducer was another woman. What did that make me? An adulteress as well as a lesbian?

"Don't be shy with me Mei-Ling. This is new to me as well. When I told you that I had never made love, I meant with a man or a woman. At this moment, we are just two virgins about to make love, woman to woman. I love you Mei-Ling and I want you to love me in return. Don't be afraid of me. Another woman can't harm you."

Vanessa thoroughly seduced me so that I never noticed at the time that she called me twice by my given name, not Mrs. Tran. I'm sure she used the same skills when she seduced Paul. I admit that I had grown fond of her but to become so intimate that I would let her touch my sex? She didn't allow my doubts to get the better of me. Vanessa coyly moved the straps of her negligée over her shoulders, allowing the garment to slide down her body as if it were a white theatre curtain progressively revealing the actor on the stage. My nanny was standing in front of me, her graceful brown body seductively posed while she stood in the midst of a small silken pile.

Vanessa stepped forward so our boobies touched, one against the other. She had a bigger pair than me and they were softer than mine but not saggy. As our brown, erect nipples touched, it was to me like the spark when two electric connectors touch. Sui-Beng, I swear that another woman never touched me in this way. I love a man's touch, so why did the touch of Vanessa's boobs send such a sexual thrill through me? I could feel liquid dribbling down my inner thigh from my pussy and the tingling feeling that precedes an orgasm.

As Vanessa's arms went around me, I felt the full extent of her silky smooth skin, from her thighs to her arms against me. I love the manliness of a hairy white guy but the smoothness of an oriental woman's skin was just as sensual in a different way. It was as if I was melting into, becoming part of another woman. The two of us were becoming 200% woman. Vanessa then began to kiss my shoulders and laid a track of kisses down my body, between my boobs until she had her broad nose as far into my pussy as she could put it. I heard her inhale with ecstasy and then she stood up.

"Oh, Mei-Ling, your skin is so soft and smooth. No wonder I love you. And your pussy is perfume to me. I've never smelled a woman. I never knew it would be so delicious and exciting. I want you now."

I didn't resist Vanessa pulling me towards the bed. Vanessa was so gentle as she laid my head on the pillow. If she had been rough with me, it would have frightened me but it seemed that she knew exactly how to make love to me. Sui-Beng, do you think she learned it from screwing Paul, or did she lie about the other women?

Whatever. Vanessa began kissing my breasts around the outside and working her way to gently stimulating my nipples. She was so gentle that I believe it's true what they say about lesbians. Only a woman knows how to touch a woman. I have always been self-conscious about my small boobies but Vanessa stimulated them so efficiently that I felt that I had a pair like Dolly Patron and that they would explode. I thought I would come from just having my breasts caressed when Vanessa stopped.

"I want to do to your yellow pussy what I saw Paul doing to it."

In a haze, I said "yes" and Vanessa parted my legs. She paused, breathing in the aroma from my pussy before she parted my lips with two fingers. Then she put her tongue between my inner lips and drew it up towards my clitoris. Sui-Beng, it was thrilling. The woman knew exactly how to touch a woman there. I never thought anyone could be better than Paul but she was. I came so quickly that I didn't even get to look at how she looked while she was licking me. Well, I was on the verge of orgasm for some time, Vanessa was such a seductress. When I stopped coming, Vanessa had her arms around my bum and her crotch in my face. She was pressing her boobies into my stomach.

"Now, you make me come, Mei-Ling."

I was Vanessa's servant – I couldn't say no. Besides that, she had her beaver right in my face and my mouth was stuffed full of black pubic hair. I put my arms around Vanessa's bum and forced my tongue through that mass of wet, tangled hair between her lips. Another discovery, Sui-Beng. Vanessa tasted great, slightly salty but delicious. Paul says that I taste good down there but I never believed that I would love the taste of a woman. I tried to lick Vanessa's inner parts they way I like to be touched there and I must have gotten it right because Vanessa came right away. She shuddered in ecstasy and screamed for me to stop but I just hung on and kept licking until she went limp.

As we lay together on the bed, I said:

"The only thing that's missing is Paul's beautiful white dick sliding in and out and stirring up my insides. Isn't that last vaginal orgasm the best of all, Vanessa?"

"We don't have to pass up on dick. I have something that I want to play with you, Mei-Ling my love."

Vanessa opened her dresser drawer and withdrew a double-ended dildo. I gasped at the size of the object. It was so long that it would only fit sideways in the drawer. The two halves were separated by a pair of plastic testicles, concave on one side with the same curvature as a woman's pussy. The other thing that I noticed was that the colour was the same as the colour of Paul's dick. Vanessa had chosen the colour just for me. She knew I was crazy for white dick.

Vanessa took out a tube of KY jelly and liberally smeared one end until it shone. She crouched slightly and slowly slid her end inside her. It went into her with such ease that I knew she had been playing with it before. Finally, she inserted the dildo completely and stood proudly in front of me. Frankly, Sui-Beng, if I wasn't still flying from the orgasm that Vanessa had given me, I would have laughed at the sight. Here was a brown woman with voluptuous full tits with a white dick between her legs. No, I needed dick at that moment and I needed it too badly to laugh. Vanessa was about to smear my end of the dildo with KY when I stopped her.

"Just fuck me now, Vanessa. I'm so wet that I don't need that stuff. Don't even give me any more tongue. Just fuck me."

I didn't need to encourage Vanessa any more. She was between my legs, parting my pussy lips and poking around for my vagina. I grabbed my end of the dildo and guided it to the opening. The dildo felt even bigger in my hand than it looked from a meter away.

I felt a great pressure like a rod of cold steel as the enormous object entered me. I momentarily regretted not opting for the KY but my body adjusted to the thickness and warned up the dildo. Science can reproduce the stiffness and resilience of an erect dick in plastic but they can't reproduce the warmth of a man's body. If you ever use a dildo, Sui-Beng, make sure that's it's warmed up first.

Vanessa noted that I wasn't enjoying her toy and asked me if I wanted to quit.

"No, Vanessa, I just need to become accustomed to it. It's just so cold at first. Don't stop but take it slowly."

Vanessa worked the dildo in the same way that Paul fucks me. It was then that I realized that the only reason she watched us and agreed to fuck Paul was to study how a man fucks a woman. That's why she so readily agreed to not fell in love with Paul. She was already in love with me! She demonstrated that by her care and concern as she plunged the dildo deeper and deeper in me, continuously asking me if I was OK and enjoying myself. Sui-Beng, that's what my literature professors called rhetorical questions.

Then Vanessa began to slowly withdraw and re-enter me, and then picking up speed. I didn't know what to think. I had the same feeling in my body as when Paul fucks me. But it was really Vanessa fucking me, her brown boobs touching and stimulating my golden boobs. Vanessa was becoming more and more excited. I don't think it was so much because her end was stirring her insides, it was because she was acting out her inner fantasy, to be a man poking his dick into a woman. Finally, we both came together, and collapsed in exhaustion.

I then took Vanessa upstairs to our bedroom and we slept together the whole night. I gave Vanessa Paul's pajamas. We had to roll up the arms and sleeves, of course. I slept peacefully in Vanessa's arms, pretending that it was Paul holding me. In a way, it was. Didn't she learn how to take care of a woman from Paul?

So, now you see why I am writing this e-mail from an Internet café and why I am sending this to your office. I don't want either Paul or Vanessa or any of my co-workers. Please make sure that Ms. Yin doesn't read this and never tell Charles even one word of this.

Sui-Beng, I loved Vanessa before this "incident" but I came to love her in a deeper and more intimate way. I didn't stop loving Paul, of course, because my love for Vanessa was something different. I didn't mean to create a ménage à trois between Paul, our nanny and me but it seems that I have. I have guilt about our threesome even though Vanessa and I were never again intimate with each other. That is why I call the encounter between the two of us the "incident."

Not that I didn't want to have Vanessa make love to me again. For the rest of her contract, Paul never left for a business trip. In any case, Vanessa became pregnant from her affair with Paul. I don't think she would want to be humping me with the big belly she got. Sui-Beng, do I look that huge when I'm pregnant?

It doesn't take a Mandarin scholar to figure out that the baby is Paul's baby. Paul was the only man to ever touch Vanessa. Her pregnancy opened up a new and deeper part of the relationship. It was like becoming pregnant having my fifth child but without the pain. I had a big part in Vanessa becoming pregnant so it was like my child as well. I am taking good care of Vanessa and seeing her through this.

Unfortunately, her contract is up soon and she must return to the Philippines. Our Canadian immigration laws have absolutely no heart or compassion, Sui-Beng. What chance will our child have in the Philippines? What chance will Vanessa have as well? I will do everything to see that she can come back to Canada. and I can share with her the raising of the child.

Since you are the only one I have told my intimate secrets to, I must burden you with more. I think you can sense that I thoroughly enjoyed the experience of a woman making love to me. Yet, I still like getting fucked by Paul. My dilemma is, am I a lesbian, am I bisexual or is it normal for a woman to enjoy intimacy with another woman? I never heard of lesbians or bisexuals in Vietnam. Am I some kind of Vietnamese aberration or a pervert? In your practice, do you see a lot of women like me that desire another woman?

Finally, what should I make out of Vanessa? She did fuck both Paul and me but I don't think that she is a true bisexual though. The way she took charge and seduced me makes me think that she is a lesbian. On the other hand, she doesn't dress or act butch at all. Vanessa is very feminine. Do you think that she used me or does she love me at all?

I am sorry to burden you with all these questions but I have no one to turn to other than my good friend who has shared her thoughts and feelings with me.

Your confused (sexually) friend

Tran Mei-Ling



Mellow Yellow Ch. 20



I have been asked, what happened between Syd Poole and Lily Poon after they met on that Chinese New Year in 1997? (Mellow Yellow 16) Theirs is a true love story crossing racial and cultural boundaries. I don't make any apologies if you find this story is a little slow-paced. That is the way people make love in the Far East. Please enjoy the story of how Syd and Lily got laid.





Mellow Yellow Ch. 20



"Take this prescription to the herbalist and he will tell you how to take this medicine.  Li-Li, I am also referring you to a gynecologist. I want to make sure that all your female parts are in working order. I want to be sure that your dislike of sex isn't something physical. You don't need to come to my office if you feel uncomfortable here. I never give my telephone number to a patient but your situation is different. Please call me whenever you have questions about your relationship with Syd."

Susan took another prescription form and wrote her telephone number. She placed it in Lily's hand and walked her to the door. As Susan had her hand on the door handle, she impulsively did something unprofessional and completely un-Chinese. She hugged the older woman and whispered in her ear:

"Something wonderful is about to happen to you, older sister. Something wonderful."





Mellow Yellow Ch. 20



Lily lay in Syd's arms, exhausted from their lovemaking. Now she knew what it was to be a woman, to be truly loved and to be fucked by a man that truly loved her. Syd was a hero for awakening her to the pleasure of sex. The hour of pleasure made Lily want more and more of Syd's willie. Yet, she had one nagging doubt.

"Syd, will I be too sore tomorrow to do it again? You were so active that I'm afraid I'll hurt if we do it again. Yet, I want it again so badly. Can we do it again tomorrow?"

"Of course, me luv. And I promise I'll never hurt you.

Syd drifted off to sleep enfolding Lily in his arms. He was so thankful that he had finally bedded the woman he loved. She had given him the best ride of his life. He was thankful for Lily but he was even more thankful that he had Susan Wu as his go-between. Susan had thought of everything to ensure that their relationship would be successfully consummated. Yes, he was thankful for Susan and Charles' help and for Susan's Eight Herbs of Happiness.





Mellow Yellow Ch. 21



MELLOW YELLOW 21

Dr. Wu makes an urgent house call to cure Charles’ willie again

The distinguished-looking woman mounted the steps of the stage.  At first, one might think that she was wearing an ordinary business suit but a closer look revealed first one shapely leg, then the other, alternately flashing out the slit of the skirt.  Dr. Wu mounted the steps and walked across the stage.  The few men attending this conference were unable to take their eyes from Dr. Wu’s back, from her swaying hips to her tiny feet and high heels.  Some women cattily remarked that she appeared remarkably short for a giant in her field.  Dr. Wu checked her laptop to ensure her PowerPoint presentation was properly loaded and the projector filled the screen. (Slide 1)

RELAPSE IN PSYCHOLOGICALLY-INDUCED MALE SEXUAL DYSFUNCTION

A Presentation to the Asia/Pacific Conference on Therapeutic Sexual Technique
by Dr. Susan Wu-Burnhamthorpe, M. D. Psych.
Suntec Singapore International Convention and Exhibition Centre
Singapore, May 20, 2002

Dr. Wu shuffled her notes in her best professorial manner.  She peered through her glasses at the audience and cleared her throat to signal her readiness to begin.  The low murmur of subdued conversation died to silence.  The audience waited with anticipation for the famous woman to impart her wisdom.

( )

I thank my learned colleagues for the invitation to this beautiful city and for the opportunity to address such distinguished persons on one of the most difficult issues that we practitioners face.  Once the willie is up, how can we sustain its performance?  I call this a pressing problem because we now know that psychologically-induced male sexual dysfunction, or PMS-dysfunction, is more widespread than we formerly believed.  In my practice, I have so many new patients with PMS-d that my clinic’s trained staff really cannot handle the repeat business generated by patients who might relapse.

In my pioneering work in this field, “Ancient Chinese Sexual Practice and the Prevention of Psychologically-induced Caucasian Male Sexual Dysfunction,” I explained how effective the Chinese female and her sexual technique could be in curing PSM-d.  That paper set out how, with Patient C., I pioneered the methods of overcoming PSM-d in Caucasian males.  I attributed my success to the natural aptitudes of the Chinese female for the sexual act.  This was partly due to the obvious ineptitude of the Caucasian female to cure their male counterparts of PSM-d.

My second published work, “Statistical Basis for Confirmation of the Chinese Female Hypothesis for PMS-d Efficacy,” detailed how my success with Patient C. resulted in great demand amongst Caucasian males for practical application of my discoveries.  I founded my now-famous clinic shortly and recruited staff that Patient C. and I personally trained in my methods.  (Slide 2) This is a table of statistics that appeared in the second paper that I co-authored with Mrs. Melinda Tran Mei-Ling. In that paper, we provided the scientific confirmation of my original hypothesis that the Chinese female was the optimum instrument in effecting a cure for PMS-d.

Please note that my specially-trained staff of Chinese women achieved a 95% success rate at curing PMS-d, the highest in my sample.  Patient C. was able to determine the success rate of untrained Chinese females from colleagues who frequented his athletic club.  Note that they achieved a respectable 84% success rate, which was still higher than Caucasian females, prosthetic devices, acupuncture, medical solutions and herbal remedies.  My sample was not large enough to stratify by the age of the male sufferer.  However the samples were sufficiently large that my clinic’s staff were well beyond the confidence limits of all other samples.  I am confident that the trained staff of my clinic provides the superior relief for PMS-d.

(Slide 3) This is a table of relapse rates and the cause of relapse for supposedly cured males.  In total, my clinic initially had a 34% recurrence rate, 90% of which was due to re-encountering the Caucasian female.  Note that all other causes, such as alcohol, venereal disease, etc. are relatively equal and minor in nature.  I came to the conclusion that I could not stop my patients from sexually encountering Caucasian females.  However, I also concluded from the exhaustion of my staff from attempting to professionally deal with these relapsed patients that I had to develop additional methods.

(Slide 4) If you will direct your attention to the Wu Matrix of nationality versus technique, this slide shows the portfolio of sexual techniques  I have developed to prevent relapse.  It should come as no surprise that the French respond to the oral techniques best, notably fallatio and mutual cunnilingis.  Americans are prone to consider money a significant stimulus whereas Italians are susceptible to food.  Perhaps the route to a man’s willie is through his stomach is true only in Italy.

I find it odd, that the English are most responsive to BDSM, especially when Patient C., who is English, responded best to combined fantasy, the Canadian favourite, and money, the American choice of technique.  Despite his non-modal response, it was my experience with Patient C.’s relapse that led me to develop the Wu Matrix.

The relapse in question occurred after several successful therapeutic treatments over a period of months.  This included treatment at a foreign resort, to which I would refer you to my paper, “Response of Dysfunctional Patients to Environmental Factors” for data on this element of the sex therapist’s techniques.  I needed to resort to treatment at foreign facilities during this early period in my career because the techniques I developed with Patient C. were unknown in Hong Kong at that time.  Since I was clandestinely developing sex therapy, I was unable to openly consort with Patient C. and provide the requisite treatments.   I did, however, check on his progress and the condition of his willie periodically by telephone.

It was during one of these telephone consultations when I was providing suggestive material for Patient C.’s auto-erotic stimulation that I discerned that something was not right with Patient C.  I couldn’t put my finger on what Patient C.’s troubles were but I knew, even over the telephone, that something was amiss.  (Slide 5) “A Good Psychiatrist is Always Sensitive to the Patient’s Mood.”  

(Slide 6) I now refer you to a series of responses on this slide that a patient might use to indicate relapse.  These range from the very direct “Me willie don’t work” to the very indirect “I feel a mite mawkish.”  Patient C. was being so indirect that he was downright evasive.  Finally, I had to use coercive means to wheedle the truth from him.  Yes, I threatened to discontinue the therapy.

When the truth finally came out, it turned out Patient C. had another unsuccessful sexual encounter with Ms. S., a Caucasian female ex-pat, resident in Hong Kong.  I say another because Ms. S. was the initial source of Patient C.’s sexual inadequacies.  Of course, I was not present at this encounter nor any of the previous ones and I can only rely on the details related by Patient C.

It appears that the disastrous sequence of events leading to the relapse began with a gathering in a pub close by Ms. S. and Patient C.’s  mutual place of work.  This was the regular Friday Night Piss-Up, as ex-pats term it.  Ms. S. was present and overheard Patient C. bragging of his newfound sexual prowess.  Ms. S. was apparently challenged by the concept that another woman had succeeded in raising Patient C.’s willie where she had failed abysmally.  Ms. S. determined that she would invite Patient C. to her flat to “view her etchings.”

(Slide 7)  Ms. S. was a typical Caucasian female, attempting coitus using the traditional primitive methods of her gender and race.  Note that these generally consist of a directly suggestive phrase such as “Fuck me baby” or “Shag me with your magic stick,” followed in quick succession by opening the zipper, a tug to the willie and the Caucasian female lying stiffly on her back staring fixedly upwards at the ceiling.  Did Ms. S. have any chance of achieving satisfactory coitus by employing such primal techniques upon a recently recovered PMS-d sufferer?  I think not!  Her scheme was doomed to failure at the outset.

Having gotten her hooks into Patient C. and Patient C. into her flat, Ms. S. proceeded to doff her clothes and lie naked on the bed with her legs spread wide in a manner that she considered to be sexually inviting.  Without the foreplay and stimulation that the Chinese woman can best provide, plus Patient C. having consumed a few too many cans of Australian beer, Patient C.’s willie dangled limply and uselessly between his legs.

Ms. S. responded to this awkward situation, as the white Caucasian female typically does, by recounting the details of their previously unsuccessful attempts to achieve coitus.  Instead of getting laid herself and pleasuring her male companion, Ms S. merely succeeded in inducing overwhelming inadequacy in Patient C.  These inadequacies were reinforced by Ms. S. employing a battery-driven prosthetic willie to shag herself in the presence of Patient C.

Two unanticipated problems confronted me.  I had not foreseen that a PMS-d patient I considered successfully cured could regress back to impotence.  Secondly, Patient C. had violated our relationship by succumbing to the advances of Ms. S.  Of course, I mean the therapist/patient relationship.  Nonetheless, I was shocked that Patient C. would even think of sticking his willie into that awful woman.

My problem was this.  How could I provide Patient C. with treatment for his relapse when our doctor/patient relationship was supposed to be kept secret from the public?  I thought I was stalling for time by beginning to say naughty things to Patient C. (Slide 8)  This is a sample of my repertoire that I have found useful.  Naughty phrases subsequently became the initial step in conquering relapse,  (Slide 9) “Remind Patient of Past Success.”  As I spoke the naughtiest words I could think of, my mind evolved Step 2, “Suggest Novelty to Patient.”  So, I asked Patient C. if there was something he had never tried and would care to attempt it with me.

I admit that I was on completely new ground here.  I knew what Patient C. had done but my question opened myself to the whole universe of sexual behaviour.  What if Patient C. requested something so abhorrently kinky that I would not be able to perform the act?  Remember that, at this time, I was the sole practitioner within metropolitan Hong Kong of systematic scientific sex therapy.  Now, of course, my clinic employs therapists with a wide range of sexual inclinations.  Consequently, if the relapsed patient requires something unusual for treatment, my clinic can usually respond with the proper equipment and a trained therapist with the proper attitude.  Therefore, Step 3 in developing relapse therapy is “Find the Proper Therapist.”  If Patient C. had requested something beyond my capabilities, my whole theory concerning PMS-d could have collapsed at that moment.  Fortunately, I was able to continue my research as Patient C. requested something well within my capabilities.

Patient C. paused for a moment.  This is normal with a PMS-d sufferer as they are quite reticent to discuss sexual matters.  Furthermore, Patient C. is English, the most sexually repressed nation on earth.  Then Patient C. said very quietly, “I’ve never paid for it, Dr. Wu.  That’s the solution.  I’ll engage a professional from an escort agency.”  Quickly, I replied: “You will do no such thing.  I will arrange for a professional that I can trust to perform the proper therapy and one who is completely free of disease.”  Sometimes it amazes me how naive my patients can be in sexual matters.

How fortunate for my research that Patient C. had resolved my dilemma in such a creative manner.  Patient C’s fantasy would allow me to visit his premises disguised as a common trollop.  Thus, no one would know that I was administering a form of therapy not yet authorized by our health authorities.  Unfortunately, my middle class upbringing and academic experience did not prepare me properly for the duties now required of me.  I had not the slightest idea of the apparel employed by women of bad reputation in our city of Hong Kong.  How would I fulfill the fantasy of Patient C. if I were unable to effect the proper costume?  Fortunately, my future senior therapist, Ms. Fay Tang Fang was intimately involved in performing her own research amongst the sailors visiting the Port of Hong Kong.  I was so fortunate to subsequently obtain her services for my clinic after she returned to Hong Kong due to a broken marriage with a British citizen.  

Ms. Tang was able to quickly supply me with the requisite uniform of a Kowloon streetwalker from what she termed “a few things from my own wardrobe”.  (Slide 10) I posed in Ms. Tang’s suggested outfit later, as you will see in this slide, but, at the time, I could hardly believe that there really were women who dressed like this.  I had so many questions of my future colleague.  “Fang, are you sure that the skirt is supposed to be so short?  And the panties are so skimpy that you can make out the bush.  And I don’t really have much bush.  The back of the panties is so far up the crack of my bum that I’ll get hemorrhoids.  Why must I wear these fishnet stockings.  And my midriff is bare.  I’ll freeze.  Don’t you know it’s winter out there.”  Ms. Tang insisted that this was how an employee of an escort agency should appear at a client’s door.  Ultimately, we decided that I should wear a trench coat and sunglasses when travelling between my flat and Patient C.

As I sat in the tube station waiting for my train, hoping that the trench coat adequately hid the view up my muffy, it occurred to me that I was embarking on a fantasy as a hooker and I hadn’t even thought of a name for my fallen alter ego.  As I pondered what to call myself, I spotted advertising for Chinese tea that is distinguished by its content of dried lotus blossoms.  That was it!  My streetwalking doppelganger became Miss Lotus Blossom.

I fantasized about my new identity on the trip, how a strumpet should act with her client as I planned out how I would play out the harlot with Patient C.  Even at this early stage of my career, I was developing (Slide 11) the principles that guide my clinic even today.  “Plan Each Session with Care to Detail,” and “Remember that the Patient is Paying for Service.”  The interior lighting of the train extinguished as it entered the tunnel under the harbour.  The plunge into the depths of the earth excited me as I simultaneously harboured thoughts of Patient C’s willie plunging into the depths of Miss Lotus Blossom.

I took advantage of the darkness to put my hand inside my skimpy panties.  They were soaked.  To be fair, the tiny patch of fabric was inadequate to absorb the moisture welling up between my legs.  Surreptitiously, I gave my clitoris a finger job, relieving the tension that was building up between my legs as a result of my planning.  Fortunately, my hands had returned to where they belonged by the time the lights came back on, although I hoped nobody would notice my wet fingers.

At Patient C.’s station, I gave my garish makeup one last check.  I looked the perfect harlot but I wanted to check my disguise to ensure that I could sustain the fantasy.  It occurred that I was about to encounter Old Ang, the concièrge in Patient C.’s apartment building.  This same individual had caused me embarrassment and humiliation when I first visited Patient C. to formulate my early theories on PMS-d.  His psychological profile was easy to discern and quite common in pre-unification Hong Kong.  Old Ang was a self-hating Chinese, subservient to the English out of a desire to be one of them.  If Old Ang didn’t recognize me from my previous visit, my disguise was perfect.

At the entrance to Patient C.’s apartment building, I walked past the ancient concièrge towards the elevator.  I was not surprised when Old Ang yelled at me, “Were you born stupid, young woman?  You must check in with me.  This building is occupied by English civil servants.  Chinese are admitted only on business.”  I stopped, removed my sunglasses, opened my trench coat half way and poked one fishnetted leg in the old fossil’s direction.  I pouted my lips and said, “Isn’t it obvious that I’m here for business with Patient C. and not for pleasure?  Could you please ring up Patient C. and confirm that he has an appointment with Miss Lotus Blossom.”

It was a pleasure to watch the confusion of this dried-up little man trying to make a call to a valued tenant and simultaneously undress me with his eyes.  He stumbled and stuttered through his telephone call and then finally hung up.  He beckoned to me and said: “Your appointment is confirmed Miss Lotus Blossom.  Before you go upstairs, could I please obtain your telephone number?  I believe that you and I could also, ummmh, transact some business.”

Old Ang had hung himself like a barbecued duck hanging in a butcher’s shop.  He had fallen into the trap I laid for him.  I merely pouted again and said: “Unfortunately, Miss Lotus Blossom confines her services to a clientele consisting of English civil servants who are less than 90 years old.”  With that, I closed my trench coat, turned and flounced towards the elevators, leaving Old Ang with his mouth wide open.

Upon entering Patient C.’s apartment, I slowly removed my trench coat to reveal my disguise as sensuously as possible.  Patient C. appeared perplexed.  “It’s you, Dr. Wu.  I can hardly recognize you.  So you’re the professional who is to take care of me.”  (Slide 12) I have another observation at this point.  When a fantasy has been prescribed as part of the requisite therapy to counter relapse, the therapist must at all costs avoid a return to reality, as the reality includes a limp willie.  Consequently, I said to Patient C., “I don’t know who this Dr. Wu is.  I am Miss Lotus Blossom from the Red Silk Escort Agency.  Did the Agency mention my fee?  I require HK$1000 up front, whereupon I will demonstrate to you Miss Lotus Blossom’s abundant skills as well as her beautiful body.”

Patient C. began to play along with the fantasy and indicated that he, indeed, had my fee in cash and would pay with pleasure.  And that, esteemed colleagues, is the true story of how, very early in my research, I established the tariff structure for my clinic’s services.  I stuffed the bills in my tiny purse and threw it on top of my trench coat and set to work curing the relapse through intensive therapy.  I made Patient C. comfortable on his sofa, sitting down beside him in as alluring a manner as I could.  (Slide 13)  This is another rule I give my therapists, “Ensure that the Patient is Comfortable.”

With care to this principle, I slowly unbuttoned Patient C.’s shirt and slid my hand inside.  (Slide 14)  Of course, another rule I make for my staff is to “Warm Hands Prior to Touching Patient.”  Some competing clinics have lost older patients to heart attacks when their more mature willies were touched by cold hands.  Hence the importance of this simple precaution.

When I had Patient C.’s shirt totally unbuttoned, I then began kissing his chest in the same manner as I assumed an attentive prostitute would.  As a note to all practitioners in this field, the hair on the Caucasian male’s chest can tickle the nose with disastrous results for oral sex if a sneeze should occur.  For therapists whose nasal passages are easily irritated, I suggest 0.1 cc of Novocain injected at the tip.

I bared my own chest, pulling off my halter top.  Straddling Patient C., I then leaned forward and let my breasts touch the patient’s chest.  Despite our extraordinary array of skills in performing the sex act, we Chinese women are definitely mammary-challenged.  Nevertheless, what we lack in breast size, we more than make up in firmness.  Therefore, rubbing a pair of Chinese breasts over a Caucasian patient's chest can be quite stimulating, despite the apparent innocuousness of the Chinese boobie.  I admit that Patient C. gave himself some help in this respect as the hairs on his chest tickling my nipples caused my nipples to stand on end.




Mellow Yellow Ch. 21



I had no way of knowing what was going on in Patient C.’s head, or what was happening between his legs, except by monitoring his rate of breathing, which was increasing in frequency.  I decided to check on how the object of my therapy was progressing, so I reached down and unbuckled the belt of Patient C.’s trousers.  As I carefully undid the zipper, I gauged my success by the difficulty caused by the huge bulge that lay within Patient C’s trousers.  Consequently, it was no surprise to me when I slid my hand into Patient C.’s briefs and seized hold of his erect member.  It was long, it was hard and it throbbed as my hand gripped it gently.

(Slide 15)  Here is another rule that I require my therapists to follow.  “Handle the Willie with care.”  One reason why I reject every Caucasian female who applies for a post at my clinic is that they have no idea how to take a willie to hand.  They seem to think that a willie is like a cutlet of meat, to be pounded into submission.  No wonder that I encounter in my practice so many white willies that are as soft and pliable as filet mignon.

For the types of therapy I had in mind, I would require a more comfortable operating theatre, so I suggested that Patient C. and I move to the bedroom.  Actually, Patient C. had little choice in this matter as I had my hand firmly around his willie.  Under such circumstances, a patient will willingly follow his therapist.  Once in the bedroom, I removed Patient C.’s remaining garments and undergarments.

With the patient lying comfortably on the bed, I began an oral sex technique that Ms. Tang terms the Blow-Job.  I discovered how valuable this oral technique is in treating penile dysfunction with the very first therapy I administered to Patient C.  Given its effectiveness with this patient, I intended to repeat the treatment, thus rebuilding the patient’s confidence.  I was engaged in this endeavour when Patient C. asked: “Can I do the same to Miss Lotus Blossom?”

This pleased me to a great extent.  Not only had Patient C. gotten his willie up but he was now taking initiative.  However, I was not about to let go of the fantasy.  I removed Patient C.’s willie from my mouth, stood up and slowly dropped my miniskirt and my minimalist knickers.  Coyly keeping my muffy partially out of Patient C.’s view, I said: “Miss Lotus Blossom’s pussy will pleasure your tongue for an extra cost of HK$ 200.  I suggest that this is a bargain.  Miss Lotus Blossom’s pussy has the reputation of being a tasty gourmet dish.  If you accept this price, please pay after the lay.”

Patient C. eagerly agreed so I mounted Patient C. in the reverse direction, placing my muffy within tongue range.  I inserted Patient C.’s willie back in my mouth as far as I could, given its size.  Patient C. forcefully grabbed me around the hips and thrust his tongue into my pussy, neatly parting my labia majora.  Miss Lotus Blossom promised that Patient C.’s tongue was to be pleasured but I quickly realized that the pleasure was to be also mine.  From previous therapy, I knew that Patient C. could apply his tongue to pussy with great effect.  I didn’t realize that mutual cunnilingis doubles the intensity and pleasure of the oral experience.  As my lips went up and down Patient C’s willie just next to its flaring tip, Patient C. ran his tongue simultaneously between my labia minora right to the edge of my swollen clitoris.  No matter what action I performed on his willie, Patient C did the same to my pussy.  It was almost as if I was performing oral sex on myself.  It was quite unprofessional of me but Patient C.’s tongue touched my clitoris and raised me to orgasm at the exact moment that my tongue slipped and licked his willie-tip.

(Slide 16) This is my senior therapist, Ms. Tang, demonstrating the recommended therapeutic method of performing mutual cunnilingis with one of our clients.  Note the detached look of the professional.  Ms. Tang is solely concerned with the patient’s willie and her own pleasure is merely secondary to her work.  Of course, for this demonstration, Ms. Tang did not prepare herself with a finger job, as I had on the tube.

Fortunately for me, my mouth was stuffed so full of willie that no screams of pleasure could possibly escape my lips.  I don’t know how the quivering of my body escaped Patient C.’s notice.  When I finally ceased my orgasm, I removed Patient C.’s willie from my mouth and informed him that he should now prepare himself for the exquisite pleasure of Miss Lotus Blossom’s lay.

(Slide 17) This is Patient C.’s willie in the flaccid state.  (Slide 18) Now, this is the same willie in the erect state.  I sense from the response of my distinguished colleagues that you are all as impressed with Patient C.’s member as I was when I encountered this magnificent specimen on my initial, successful attempt at therapy.  I had assumed that, having performed my therapeutic techniques often upon Patient C’s willie, that I would not encounter the same insertional difficulties as I experienced during my first treatment of Patient C.  I can only assume that the absence of therapy over such an extended period had resulted in the sexual dimensions of the therapist, me in this case, shrinking to their original tight dimensions.

Therefore, I suggest the following to all professional therapists in this field: Keep in training, especially if heavy-duty willies such as Patient C.’s present themselves for  treatment.  Before attempting to treat such an industrial willie, I suggest that the therapist purchase a dildo of equivalent dimensions to the patient.  These are readily available in any large city.  Furthermore, I would suggest the purchase of several smaller size dildos in stages up to the largest size of willie the therapist may encounter in her practice.  Work up to willies of the size you see in this slide and you will surely avoid the difficulties I encountered during my early research.

The moment I started to insert Patient C.’s huge willie inside me was the moment I realized how completely out of practice I was with Patient C.  The pain can be excruciating initially as the out-of-practice therapist is stretched to her limits and often beyond.  Fortunately, I was fully lubricated from my planning and preparation prior to therapy and from Patient C’s super-talented tongue running up and down within my pussy.

Despite what I thought would be a formidable obstacle to achieving coitus and, thus, effecting a cure for Patient’s relapse, I managed, by placing all my weight on Patient C.’s willie to effect entry.  The effectiveness of Chinese female sexual technique depends on skill and finesse in determining erogenous zones.  However skilled my therapists are at this, I always advise them that there are situations when brute force is the sole solution to an impediment to coitus.  

A popular doctor is always stretched to her limits.  The girth of the magnificent specimen I showed you spread my innards apart so that I was truly stretched to my limits.  I believe that the only thing that saved me from serious injury was the extra services ordered up by Patient C.  Had my patient anticipated that his therapist would be out of shape and encounter difficulty?  I had no time to ponder this question because, to my surprise, the further I inserted Patient C’s willie, the more pleasurable the enormous object became within me.

Of course, there is no reason why a proficient therapist should not enjoy her work.  My therapists are advised to express their enjoyment to the patient as part of the therapy, whether it is the initial treatment or emergency treatment for relapse. (Slide 19)  Therefore, I admonish my therapists with the following motto “Express your enjoyment,” as I was expressing mine vocally at that moment.  Sending positive feed back, such as “It’s hard as steel” or “That’s awesome, baby”  will encourage the patient to recovery.

I started to rise and fall upon Patient C.’s stomach, sending waves of that full feeling surging up through my abdomen.  As my jumping up and down on Patient C. increased in tempo, I unfortunately lost all sense of reality.  The surges of pleasure generated by each plunge of the willie into my interior seemed to turn my mind off from anything but my own pleasure.  I completely forgot that I was in the middle of a fantasy for Patient C.’s benefit.  I was supposed to be Miss Lotus Blossom, the greatest slut in all Hong Kong, paid for her work and coldly calculating how many extras to add on to the client’s bill at the end of the session.  No, Patient C’s willie had reduced me to a pure hedonistic woman in search of the climax of the Millenium.

Instead of trying to shag off the customer as quickly as possible so as to rush to the next appointment as a real professional would, I was determined to keep Patient C.’s willie as erect as possible for as long as possible.  I was so engrossed by my own pleasure that I never noticed that one strap of the garter belt was loose and  slapping my thigh in time to my antics on Patient C.’s abdomen.  I also didn’t notice that I was emitting very unprofessional screams of ecstasy, as was Patient C., albeit in a lower register.  Nobody would doubt that Dr. Wu was providing her patient with the ride of his life and Dr. Wu was not faking her orgasm.

When I came, I felt that my whole interior was being twisted and tightened like a dishrag wrung dry of its moisture.  This tightening of my interior muscle structure was what finally caused Patient C. to achieve his orgasm.  Despite my own preoccupation with the interior of my own body or perhaps because of it, I felt Patient C’s willie pulsating as he filled my interior with his male essence.  I felt such joy at my own success and unity with my patient that it triggered a full orgasm in my own body.  I shuddered and shook like a lion dancer at the Chinese New Year.

I arose to remove  Patient C’s huge willie.  I felt the bulbous head slide past my cervix, triggering a few more spasms in my body.  Finally, the willie popped out with a loud sucking sound.  An enormous gush of liquid rolled like a torrent down both my thighs, causing the loose fishnet stockings to stick to my skin.  I realized that Patient C had been telling me the truth.  He had not had coitus with Ms. S and had saved well over a month of his essence for me.  I was about to go to the bathroom and clean up this mess, as I thought a professional woman should, when Patient C. grabbed my arm.  “That was so delightful Miss Lotus Blossom.  I’ll never go near any woman but you ever again.”

I was so taken aback by Patient C.’s testimonial to my skills that I dressed hurriedly and left, lest I allow my emotions burst forth in a completely unprofessional manner.  I was in such a hurry that I forgot to demand the HK$ 200 I was promised for the taste test of my pussy.  I even neglected to put my panties back on.  I must have accidently kicked them under the bed in my enthusiasm to get to work on Patient C.’s willie.  Well, if the cleaning lady found those under Patient C.’s bed, I suppose that he would gain great face in the woman’s eyes.

As I left the apartment of Patient C., a couple exited the next apartment simultaneously.  The woman was middle-aged, plump, with saggy boobies and a sour disposition.  The man had kept most of his youthful looks and even looked a little sexy to me.  He gave me a sly look and a little wink.  The woman took one horrified look at me, presuming me to be a real Kowloon hooker.  I suppose that, never having encountered the real thing, she assumed my English was abysmal and that, even if I had a rudimentary understanding of her language, her thoughts were sublime beyond my understanding.  The woman looked down her nose at me and exclaimed:

“Well, I do declare.  Now we know who was making all those hideous noises in the next apartment.  That Mr. C. must be a total reprobate, shagging a coloured woman.  I always knew that the man was perverted, living alone as he does.  Nigel, don’t look at that Chink tart unless you want me to chop off your useless willie with a blunt instrument and stuff the wet end in your mouth.  Let’s get on this elevator.”

Apparently, the woman was a typical example of the Caucasian female and not without a little racial prejudice as well.  I identified Nigel as my second victim of PMS-d and future patient.  The symptoms were obvious in his reticence to speak and he had sufficient causal factors in the pussy-whipping I had just witnessed.  I decided to do see if my theories about Chinese women would work equally well on Nigel.  Quickly, I checked the number of their apartment and then entered the same elevator before the doors closed.  The elevator was crowded so I was able to get close to Nigel on the way down.  I stood on the other side from the female and gave Nigel a few snuggles, as well as putting my hand inside his jacket.  When the couple left the elevator, I noticed that Nigel now had a bow-legged gait, characteristic of a Caucasian male trying to walk with an erection.

Of course, I could not be diverted from concentrating upon my rehabilitation of Patient C.’s willie.  I turned Nigel over to my colleague, Faye Tang, as well as all the personal information I was subsequently able to gather from Old Ang and Patient C.  Ms. Tang reported that I had, indeed, found another PMS-d sufferer but she was able to quickly effect a cure.  Nigel subsequently told me that he received “the shag of his lifetime ” at Faye Tang’s hands, or rather at her tight little snatch.  I subsequently used the Faye/Nigel encounter as a data point in the development of my theories.

As I rode the tube back to my flat, I was so exhausted and sexually satisfied that I thought I might fall asleep and miss my station.  I suppose that what kept me awake was the puddle of sticky liquid forming between my bum and my trench coat. and the many thoughts racing through my head.  First and foremost, my new discoveries in sex therapy required that I share them with the world.  I was determined to publish my findings in scientific journals.  Secondly, I determined at that point that I would establish a clinic and a dedicated corps of Chinese women who would devote their lives to straightening white willies and to the cure of PMS-d in Caucasian males.  Finally, I had to find a good dry cleaner to take care of the mess gathering inside my trench coat.

That, esteemed colleagues, concludes my presentation on the manner in which I first encountered and cured relapse.

( )

As Dr. Wu completed her address the audience broke out into tumultuous applause.  Dr. Wu smiled, stepped aside from the podium and gave a small, graceful bow.  The academics and practitioners shook off their reserve and rose to their feet in standing ovation, as she stepped off the stage and walked to the back of the auditorium.  The applause died and the academics settled into their seats.  The next paper would be, unfortunately, a typical dry presentation.  Their backs were now turned away from Dr. Wu so they had no opportunity to see the tall Englishman embrace the petite woman.  The audience had no way of observing the Englishman’s trousers beginning to bulge in a practical tribute to Dr. Wu’s methods.



Mellow Yellow Ch. 22



Part 1: Susan Wu discovers an eager recruit for her clinic

Cynthia-Dawn Yang had never been one of those Chinese students in your school whose homework was always prepared and perfect and went home to practise the piano for hours. She got by in life depending more on her good looks than on her abilities. It was rumoured that she had only graduated from high school because she shagged her Mandarin teacher in exchange for a passing grade in her final year. Cynthia-Dawn Yang was that rarest of creatures, a true Chinese bimbo.

Cynthia-Dawn Dawn had mid-Pacific beauty. Her almond eyes set off a nose that wasn't too flat and complemented her light golden skin. Cynthia-Dawn breasts were larger than most Chinese women were, even though they wouldn't be remarkable in North America. Fit and flat-stomached, Cynthia-Dawn Yang was proud of her body, even if she neglected her intellect. Because of her universal beauty, both the English and Chinese boys in the upper form wanted to get into her pants. Only her Mandarin teacher had succeeded.

When she left high school, it appeared as if her career had no bounds. She had risen from the office manager of a prominent Hong Kong psychiatrist to the post of executive assistant to the marketing director of her previous employer. Unfortunately, she was sacked over a minor scandal and now she was lucky she found a job as a waitress in the restaurant of the People's Fitness and Navigation Society (formerly the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club). 

Cynthia-Dawn's downward spiral in her career was completely her boyfriend's fault. If he hadn't started fooling around with that slut in accounting, Cynthia-Dawn wouldn't have even thought of seducing her boss in revenge. It was just such damn bad luck that the cleaning staff caught her shagging the marketing director in the executive washroom after hours. Why was it always the woman who got the sack in these situations? Cynthia-Dawn found herself out of work, out of her boyfriend's apartment and definitely off her preferred career path. Cynthia-Dawn's thoughts on "Life isn't Fair" was interrupted by the restaurant manager's instructions:

"Here's our restaurant's uniform. You will wear it and follow my instructions to the letter. Despite the change in name of our establishment, our clientèle remains the same, namely the élite of Hong Kong's business and government. The only change is that the Communist officials no longer wear baggy suits and are completely indistinguishable from their capitalist colleagues, except in one respect. You must address our new comrades from the mainland in Mandarin. Therefore, young lady, you will treat everyone who dines in the Club's, I mean the Society's, restaurant with the utmost of respect. Can I count on you?"

Cynthia-Dawn reassured the manager that she could perform the job despite the fact that she really didn't understand Mandarin at all. Perhaps she should have paid attention in Mandarin class instead of indulging her teenage crush on her teacher. Her heart wasn't at all in her work as she went about delivering plates of hot, steaming food to the rich or powerful old geezers. What a servile position for such a beautiful woman as Cynthia-Dawn Yang. Cynthia-Dawn imagined herself as one of these businessman's or, if need be, commissar's mistress. That was her destiny, to have her tight pussy regularly shagged and to receive compensation commensurate with her skill in bed. 

Her fantasy was interrupted as a woman with a familiar face entered the restaurant, accompanied by a tall foreigner who also seemed somehow familiar. She couldn't place the foreigner exactly. To Cynthia-Dawn Yang, as with many Chinese, all foreigners looked the same. There was no doubt in Cynthia-Dawn's mind about the identity of the woman. It was her former employer, Dr. Wu Sui-Beng, the eminent psychiatrist. The maître d'hôtel seated the couple and beckoned to Cynthia-Dawn to push her steam cart over. She couldn't contain her excitement.

"Dr. Wu, don't you remember me? I must humbly apologize for my behaviour six years ago. You were quite right to dismiss me but I now beg your forgiveness and ask you to take me back. Can you find it in your heart to take me back?"

Susan Wu couldn't understand what the waitress was babbling on about instead of taking their order. The lights came on in Susan's head when she realised that she had sacked this woman six years earlier for trying to seduce a patient. Of course, the patient had, by then, already been well seduced by Dr. Wu and was now seated at her table as her husband. Could it be that her former receptionist didn't recognize Charles Burnhamthorpe as the patient she had lusted after? Did Cynthia-Dawn realise that Susan's biggest fear was that it would become known that she had fooled around with a patient? Susan decided to give her former employee a little "test."

"Why Charles, it's Yang Kunyan! She used to run my office for me. Can you imagine? By the way, I am no longer just Dr. Wu but Dr. Wu-Burnhamthorpe. This is my husband, Charles. He understands Chinese so you don't need to use English on his behalf. So, how are you, Kunyan?"

Susan surveyed Cynthia-Dawn's face. Susan didn't detect the slightest recognition in Cynthia-Dawn's face that Charles was a former patient of Dr. Wu's psychiatric practice. No, the bimbo's face was blank and totally without intelligence, the same as it was during her employment. Cynthia-Dawn continued to babble on.

"I'm just absolutely depressed, Dr. Wu. My boyfriend threw me out on the street and I lost my job in marketing. I know we've had our differences but do you have a job for me, Dr. Wu-Burnhamthorpe? I just hate being here and the pay is terrible. I can't even afford a decent bowl of congee on what they pay me here. Can you help me? Working for you was the best job I ever had and I didn't know it."

Susan felt so ashamed as Cynthia-Dawn begged to be rehired. The woman certainly never impressed Susan as an intellectual giant and now she was showing that she had no idea how to save face. Perhaps Cynthia-Dawn had no culture but, on the other hand, she wasn't too bad looking. Cynthia-Dawn was bigger-chested than the average Chinese woman. That would certainly appeal to the foreign men who came to The Hong Kong Institute of Sex Therapy. The way Cynthia-Dawn Yang panted after Charles when he first came to Susan for help proved that Cynthia-Dawn was open to the thought of shagging a foreigner, unlike many Chinese women. If she retained that itchy slit, Cynthia-Dawn might just fit in to Susan's staff at the clinic. 

"I've opened a clinic that offers hope to those who suffer from chronic penile dysfunction. I have an opening for a young talented woman like you. It's fascinating work, you'll meet many interesting people and it's very rewarding. I hope that you aren't prejudiced because 99% of my patients are foreigners. Then please report to the Hong Kong Institute of Sex Therapy at 0800 tomorrow."

"Oh, I'm so happy, Dr. Wu. Of course I want to work for you again. Oh, I almost forgot your order. May I recommend the chicken feet……"

Part 2: Cynthia-Dawn's first day of work at Susan Wu's clinic

Cynthia-Dawn Yang took the elevator to the offices of the Hong Kong Institute of Sex Therapy. Her stomach churned because of the uncertainty associated with this step in her life. There was a certain low-paid stability associated with waiting on tables. It was a big step to take on the responsibilities associated with sex therapy. What if she wasn't any good at this new job? When Cynthia-Dawn reminded herself of her destiny and how her boyfriend and manager had praised her pussy, she resolved that she would make good in her new career. The elevator rang for the 17th floor.

The glass doors of the Institute stated boldly in Reformed Characters, Classic Script and English: The Hong Kong Institute of Sexual Therapy. The receptionist directed her to the office manager. The name on the manager's door stated Yin Su-Ning in Chinese and Constantina Yin in English. The name sounded vaguely familiar but Cynthia-Dawn wasn't much better with Chinese names than she was with foreign faces. In the office manager's office, a dumpy woman with thick glasses motioned to sit down while she finished her telephone call. Cynthia-Dawn looked over the office manager and pondered why some women never took care of themselves. In Cynthia-Dawn's opinion, Ms. Yin urgently needed cosmetic surgery on her eyelids. Even her glasses couldn't hide how narrow her eyes were. Probably laser surgery could help her ditch those nerdy glasses. Cynthia-Dawn would also suggest working out and shedding a few pounds.

The only asset of Constantina Yin that Cynthia-Dawn envied was her big chest. She thought, "Wow, I've only seen tits like that on foreign women." To console herself that she didn't measure up to Constantina, Cynthia-Dawn smugly reasoned that big tits accompanied a big cunt. After all, hadn't the Chinese girls at Our Lady of the New Territories convent school taunted the white girls that "white ain't tight." No, Cynthia-Dawn's tight Chinese pussy was the reason why she was headed for a brilliant career as a therapist and Ms. Yin's pussy would keep her stuck in management.

Cynthia-Dawn's mind turned towards what kind of hair and cosmetic makeover would suit Ms. Yin when she finally realised exactly who Constantina Yin was. She was Tina Yin, Cynthia-Dawn Yang's replacement, still working as mere clerical staff to Dr. Wu. Tina Yin finished her telephone conversation and addressed Cynthia-Dawn in a pleasant and cultured voice:

"Welcome to your first day at the Hong Kong Institute of Sexual Therapy. Dr Wu-Burnhamthorpe and her staff have been expecting you, Kunyan. Before you report to Dr Wu and her Chief Therapist for training, I will issue you with a therapist's uniform. When you've successfully completed your first day of training, report back to me to fill out your personnel forms. Now, let's go to the employee locker room."

Cynthia-Dawn ventured into the locker room with Tina Yin, expecting something similar to what she had seen during her brief tenure at the Number 2 Peoples' Fitness and Navigation Society. Instead of sweaty socks and liniment, Cynthia-Dawn's nose was assaulted by a strange combination of expensive perfumes and FDS. Tina Yin rummaged through her inventory of uniforms and extracted exactly the right size for the new recruit. One glance at Cynthia-Dawn and Tina Yin knew exactly her brassiere size, height and weight.

What a strange uniform this institution required. Cynthia-Dawn discarded her underwear and donned the lingerie provided by the clinic. The black panties were next to non-existent and the black brassiere pulled her modest boobies together into a respectable cleavage. Cynthia-Dawn put the British-style sister's hat on her head and pulled on the dress. The dress was short and exposed the entire length of Cynthia-Dawn's shapely legs from her ankles to just below the muffie. The Institute's shoes hinted at institutional sensibility but, in reality, they were high-heeled platforms. What sort of job was this?

Cynthia-Dawn proceeded to Dr. Wu's office. Dr. Wu greeted her warmly and introduced her to an older woman. The other woman was dressed in exactly the same uniform as Cynthia-Dawn.

"Come in Kunyan. This is Tang Fang, our senior therapist. She will introduce you to our methods and procedures and monitor your first day's performance. This clinic is dedicated to curing male sexual dysfunction through direct means. Most of our patients come from Europe and North America and most of their dysfunction is as a result of psychological trauma caused by their sex partners. My research has shown that white females are totally unsuitable as girlfriends and wives. I suppose that our lack of Chinese patients is because we Chinese women know how to treat our men properly in bed. So, in your work, you need only use your Chinese female skills in 99% of the cases. Now, we have a busy day ahead of us."

As they walked down the hall, Fang Tang chattered on and on concerning how the Institute was such a good place to work. The pay was excellent and Dr. Wu seemed to have an abundant supply of white willie, the very thing Faye Tang desired most in life. There was no trick to curing a white guy's limp willie. All Faye needed to do was act her own Chinese self. Easy, fun work and there's a paycheque at the end of a week. What more could a nymphomaniac such as Faye Tang desire?

Faye interrupted her non-stop lecture on job satisfaction as they entered Room 1727. In the dark light, Cynthia-Dawn discerned a wrinkled old white man with grey hair and stubble on his cheeks. His willie lay between his legs. The sight of the old fart made Cynthia-Dawn shudder, to think that she needed to touch creatures as this in search of a $HK. Faye handed Cynthia-Dawn a file folder.

"Read this while I get to work here. All the details are inside."

Cynthia-Dawn read all the details about Patient 1846. He was 84 years old, looked it and hadn't been laid for 20 years. To a young woman such as Cynthia-Dawn, old men were dead meat. Nothing would ever cause Patient 1846 to respond. Without asking for an opinion, Faye started to work. She unzipped her nurse's uniform and dropped it to the floor, revealing a distinct lack of underwear. Patient 1846 looked up and stared at the nude Faye. Before he could say anything, Faye grabbed his limp willie and stuck it in her mouth. Cynthia-Dawn was triply amazed. The old geezer's willie rose to the occasion as Faye's head bobbed up and down. This was the first white willie and the first blowjob she had ever seen. Who would have thought that there was life in such an old man?

Faye's head stopped bobbing. She tossed her hair back, mounted the old man's willie and squatted down. Cynthia-Dawn caught a glimpse of Patient 1846's willie as it disappeared into Faye's pussy. It was a respectable size and quite firm. Instead of disgust, Cynthia-Dawn's feelings transformed into lust. She wished it were her riding the ancient willie. After an eternity of Faye's jumping and humping, Patient 1846 emitted a noise that sounded like part cough, part rattle, part fart and part groan. Faye quickly dismounted and dressed. Patient 1846 smiled, obviously comparing Faye's therapy to memories of shaggings past.

Faye and Cynthia-Dawn left Patient 1846 groaning on the bed in Room 1727. Faye's face betrayed a slight smirk, the self-satisfied smile of a job well done. As they left Room 1727, Faye resumed her monologue. "I hope there aren't any Chinese grandmothers in his nursing home. He'll be chasing their wheelchairs down the hall. That old fart won't die happy unless he sticks his willie into some yellow pussy again. Now, the blowjob is only one of the many techniques we use in our clinic. In 1706, Peng Kunzhen will demonstrate more ancient techniques."

Peng Kunzhen's therapy session was underway when they opened the door to Room 1706. A heavy-looking middle-aged man was lying naked on the bed. Peng Kunzhen placed a series of needles at various points on the man's soft body. Cynthia-Dawn thought the man looked like a football with nails hammered in it. Faye waved to the patient and therapist, signalling that they should just ignore the Senior Therapist and her intern. Faye picked up the chart and began to read aloud Dr. Wu's diagnosis.

"'Patient 3593 is a typical overweight American white male. His poor diet of American processed cheese, slathered over burned chopped beef on a doughy fiberless bun have left his Yin and Yang in a state of complete unbalance. I recommend acupuncture, a horny Chinese woman and a few good meals consisting of bok choy, star anise and dried fish served with steamed rice in order to restore his sexual vigour.' I don't know how Dr. Wu does it but she's always right. See how Peng Kunzhen carefully picks Patient 3593's most erogenous zones to place each needle. Now, here's the interesting part. As Patient 3593's masculine life forces regain their balance, his willie slowly rises, imperceptibly at first but higher and harder as Kunzhen places more and more needles. Fascinating, isn't it?"

Cynthia-Dawn was indeed fascinated as Patient 3593's willie began to swell and stiffen with each needle until it became a thick erect pole, shiny enough to reflect in the dimmed lights. By now, Patient 3593 resembled a human porcupine with an impressive woody. Kunzhen turned to Faye Tang: "Do you want to show our intern what to do now?" "No, he's all yours, Nurse Peng." 

Kunzhen then pulled up her dress, dropped her pair of very sensible drawers on the floor and carefully straddled Patient 3593, taking care not to drive any needles further into his body. Cynthia-Dawn's panties became wet again as Patient 3593's thick member disappeared into Peng Kunzhen's pussy. Like most Chinese women, Kunzhen had a thin tuft of hair that passed for bush and bald pussy lips. The view of thick willie spreading stiff, bald pussy lips apart to their limit was awesome. Cynthia-Dawn wondered if all foreigners had big willies. How could these therapists could take such big willies? She was absolutely sure that her tight pussy would never accommodate any of the patients she had seen so far.

As Faye led Cynthia-Dawn down the hall, she wondered if the horsie position was all that was practised here in the clinic. That was quickly answered by their next session. Faye Tang returned to the Institute locker room changed into a leather brassiere and miniskirt. As she tied her hair back, Faye discussed their next case: 

"This is a follow-up session for Patient 2971. I must now be a submissive to 2971's dominant. Some would call the interest that he developed in sexual domination unhealthy. However, we here at the Institute consider a limp willie to be the only sign of ill-health. So, to ensure that Patient 2971's willie continues to perform well after he leaves our care, we will indulge his unusual tastes."

Patient 2971 appeared to be eager and ready for Faye. As Faye changed into a short leather skirt, Cynthia-Dawn checked out Patient 2971. He was a powerful-looking Sikh with a thick beard and a turban made of leather. He was wearing a cricketeer's outfit also made completely of leather except for the metal catcher's mask. He proudly exposed his bare, brown, hairy chest through a leather vest. In one hand, he brandished a flat cricket bat. In the clipped accents typical of the Punjab, he ordered Faye Tang to "Please bend over in order that I may pleasure you." Faye obediently bent over. 

Patient 2971 placed several whacks with a cricket bat on Faye's bum. Faye then knelt and pulled Patient 2971's willie from its leathery hiding place. Cynthia-Dawn assumed that Faye was about to give Patient 2971 another one of her famous blowjobs. Instead, he roughly grabbed Faye's hair and pulled back her head. His huge brown willie glistened from Faye's saliva. Patient 2791 pushed Faye roughly to the floor, grabbed her by the hips and pulled down her leather drawers. Cynthia-dawn was shocked to see Patient 2971jam his willie completely into Faye's bum. Faye screamed with pain at the intrusion but patient 2971 was relentless as he alternately thrust and withdrew his willie from her bum. Finally, Patient 2971 screamed "God damn the Kama Sutra, this is real sex!" 

On their way to the next patient, Faye Tang admitted that she really didn't enjoy big willies up the arsehole but a job was a job and she was a dedicated employee. Hadn't Patient 2971 performed admirably in his own perverted manner? Dr. Wu would be so pleased at another successful cure. While they were walking, Tina Yin accosted the pair.

"Fang, can you come to my office right away? The lubricant salesman is here today and he has a new and improved product. We need you to provide us with your valued experience."




Mellow Yellow Ch. 22



"Dear Kunyan, I really must go and help out Dr. Wu and Ms. Yin. Would you mind taking care of Patient 6235? I know that it's just your first day here but it's well within your capabilities, I believe."

Cynthia-Dawn entered Room 1716. Despite the low lights, she could make out a handsome, muscular white man of approximately her own age lying naked on a bed. Cynthia-Dawn sensed that there was a certain sadness about the man that seemed to diminish his good looks as well as his physique. Still, this guy seemed to be quite fuckable in Cynthia-Dawn's opinion. She went to the table and took up the man's chart. The requisite data was all there:




Mellow Yellow Ch. 23



Author’s note: I dedicate this story to Faye-Lynne, the Asian woman who inspired the character of Tina Yin.

Part 1: The Diagnosis

Bill Gates was embarrassed to admit that he had a little “problem”. The “problem” was persistent. Indeed, Bill Gates had the “problem” all his life. He was especially embarrassed to have to confess the “problem” to this young, good-looking female Chinese psychiatrist. Here he was, a middle-aged captain of American industry trying to explain why he had come to the other side of the world for a “problem” he wouldn’t admit to a friend, never mind a foreign woman.

The best urologists in Seattle hadn’t found anything organically wrong with Bill Gates. Finally, Melinda Gates, in her frustration, suggested that Bill visit the Hong Kong Institute of Sexual Therapy. She read that the clinic employed very radical methods to cure penile dysfunction. Despite its reputation for controversy and leading-edge sex therapy techniques, the Institute had achieved a remarkable record of success.

So Bill Gates applied and was accepted as a patient at the Institute. He was so humiliated, having to ask for help instead of ordering one of his flunkies to just get it done. Bill Gates consoled himself that the shrink who ran this clinic wasn’t the least bit arrogant or confrontational. In fact, she was quite pleasant in manner and not bad-looking at all. Did she ever practice sex therapy herself or had she immersed herself completely in administration? Bill Gates was speculating on what the shrink might be like in the sack when he noticed on her desk a family portrait of the doctor with a handsome white guy and a Eurasian toddler. How old was she anyway, married with kids? Well, Bill Gates never could tell the age of orientals.

Dr. Susan Wu-Burnhamthorpe looked over her newest patient. Quite frankly, she had never before treated such an ugly man in her clinic. That bad haircut made him even uglier. Was his hair stylist blind? And how old was this bugger anyway? He acted and looked like a wizened old mandarin but the urologist, Dr. Wang, had scrawled in his notes that Bill Gates was 47. Susan shook her head. She never could tell the age of Caucasians. Her therapists would likely demand double time to treat this poor specimen of the white race. Susan made a mental note to raise her fees accordingly. 

Susan speculated on whether his sexual problems were caused by his repulsive visage, with resultant lack of self-esteem. Maybe it was old age? No, a man couldn’t be finished before 50. Well, only a few sessions of psychotherapy could pinpoint why this pitiful creature couldn’t get it up. Bill Gates avoided eye contact, Susan noticed. Well, even the ugly get embarrassed. Susan spoke up first.

“Welcome to the Hong Kong Institute of Sexual Therapy. Normally, patients don’t come to us willingly. Why don’t you tell me what is the problem and how it all began?”

“Ummm, well, it’s like this, uh, Dr. Wu-Burnhamthorpe. Whenever I try and merge my files with my wife, my, uh, hard drive is just a floppy. It doesn’t even boot up. I mean, I’m really not familiar with how to execute the program, so I…..”

“Please, please, Mr. Gates. Don’t couch your problems in jargon. Come right out with it. Admit that you can’t get the old willie up any more. Not enough lead in the pencil, it would seem. Don’t be embarrassed by the problem. It happens to most middle-aged men at one time or another. Fortunately, my team of trained Asian women have a successful record at helping men like you.”

Bill Gates looked down at the floor as he shuffled his feet back and forth. “It’s not a one-time problem or a case of not being able to get it up any more, Dr. Wu-Burnhamthorpe. The fact is that I, ummh, well, it’s never been up because I really don’t know what to do with it. I’ve been so busy developing software and growing my business that I’ve never studied how to make my dick grow. If it’s not the anti-trust lawyers making me testify in Washington, it’s another virus attacking our server software. Then there’s the problems with building my mansion and my investment in Corel is in the toilet…...”

Susan couldn’t believe what she had just heard. How could a man be in his 40’s and never experience the pleasures of sex? Susan suppressed a girlish giggle and decided to take up the challenge posed by Bill Gates.

“Mr. Gates, this is an unusual problem. I’m quite uncertain at the moment how to proceed. I will accept you as a patient at the Institute. To ensure your anonymity, my staff and I will refer to you as Patient 8086 from now on. I’ll assign my best therapists to make your willie tumescent and to instruct you in the art of love. In no time, we’ll have you performing like a bunny rabbit. Now, Patient 8086, can we discuss some business? The Institute is developing new sex therapy software that I believe your corporation and my Institute should collaborate on. I have tentatively labeled this project the InterFuck.…..” 

Part 2: The Staff Meeting

Constantina Yin entered the boardroom of the Hong Kong Institute of Sex Therapy. Tina Yin was a stark contrast to the slim, fashionable therapists on the Institute’s staff. To be charitable, she was a trifle dumpy and not at all fashionably dressed. Her job at these staff meetings was to provide the weekly statistical reports. Tina preferred to be first on the agenda. Her custom was to deliver her administrative report and then excuse herself before the therapists gave their reports on their new frontiers in sex therapy.

Tina was ashamed of her appearance. She was overweight almost from birth. Her mother was so proud of her chubby baby that she resolved to keep young Tina that way as a monument to her skills as a mother and a cook. Tina went through high school as the girl that boys’ mothers urged them to date because she “had such a lovely personality.” Yes, Tina did have a nice personality but the boys in her school weren’t into dating fat nerds. 

The other reason Tina Yin absented herself from the therapists’ portion of the meetings was an overactive imagination supplemented by a strong libido. On those occasions when she couldn’t leave, the therapists’ graphic description of their imaginative cures left Tina so wet between her legs that she stayed in her chair until all the other staff members had left. She was embarrassed that someone would notice the wet stain on her dress. Only when Tina was sure that the coast was clear, she would gather up her reports and go directly to the loo to masturbate.

Today, Tina provided her administrative report in her cultured and cultivated English. Dr. Wu now employed women from all over Asia in her work and English was the only language they had in common. Tina reported on the clinic’s finances noting the letters from the Hong Kong and Beijing governments commending the Institute on its earnings of foreign exchange. Then she reminded the therapists that it was time for the annual inventory. All staff were advised to ensure that all lingerie and penis pumps had their property inventory tag.

Finally, Tina delivered the monthly statistics for the Institute. The Institute had admitted 231 patients and had discharged 230 randy men to their waiting wives and girlfriends. 205 patients had been cured within days, 25 required a full week of treatment and, unfortunately, Patient 8086 remained with the Institute at month end. Dr. Wu exploded with anger.

“What? None of you has effected a cure on Patient 8086? What do I pay you for? Don’t you realize how important Patient 8086 is to the future of this Institute? Cured, this man has the ability, with the practical skills embedded in the Asian woman, to launch the InterFuck, electronically taking the unique abilities of Asian women to the waiting willies of the world. Uncured, my work is in ruins, the Institute will surely close and China will lose a leading earner of foreign exchange. Now do you realize what your collective failure means?”

Stung by the criticism, the therapists all began to speak all at once. Bunko Fukuyama, the geisha, said “I make Japanese tea ceremony for 8086. He say ‘Take that pissy crap outa’ here and bring me a decent cup of coffee.’ He no give me chance to take off kimona. What can humble me do with man who no like Japanese pussy or green tea?”

The next to speak was Leslie Butterfly, the Peking Opera diva. “I started to sing ‘Farewell my Concubine’ for him but he just threw a ‘Windows for Dummies’ book at me. Then Patient 8086 told me to take my screechy voice to another room and put a sock in it. I was so insulted I felt like having a hissy fit. I really don’t care if he likes men or not.”

Kundali, the Kama Sutra consultant said: “I came to Patient 8086 dressed in my best silk sari. I bowed completely submissively: ‘It is my great honour to be able to pleasure you, Sahib. Which one of the 117 positions do you choose?’ The Sahib said I should position myself with my head up my arse. What do you suppose that an accomplished mistress of the Kama Sutra should do with instructions such as that, may I ask?”

The Senior Therapist, Faye Tang said: “I’ve done a lot of men in my life and some of them made camels look truly beautiful. But 8086 was so ugly that I had to run and toss my cookies. Please Sui-Beng, I beg of you, don’t make me go in there again.”

Kim Soon, the Korean tai-kwon do dominatrix said: “He lie on back, play with him palm pilot. No look at me in best leathers. So I try blowjob. He say bad word, scream that my kimchee lunch burn him willie.”

And so it went around the boardroom table. Keiko, Meiko and Seiko, the Japanese threesome, and Imelda, the Filipina shoe fetishist, all complained about how their refined techniques were apparently lost on Patient 8086. Cynthia-Dawn Yang, the westernized Chinese bimbo, neatly summarized the problem: “Patient 8086 is such a total nerd that he doesn’t even KNOW HOW TO DO IT. How can any of us perform therapy on an idiot like that?”

The room became silent at this piece of wisdom. Susan Wu pondered for a minute. Then she said to no one in particular, “Yes, Yang Kunyan has placed her finger precisely on the problem and found the solution at the same time. Now, if we could only find a woman who is as incorrigible and totally a nerd as Patient 8086 but does know how to do it, then we would have a chance of resurrecting his libido.” Susan’s words trailed off into silence. Everyone in the meeting turned and stared at Tina Yin. The therapists’ collective had found the perfect female counterpart to Patient 8086.

Part 3: Tina Yin Rubs Bill Gates the Right Way 

With great difficulty, Tina Yin found a therapist’s uniform in her size. Even a hefty woman like Peng Kunchen had lost weight as a result of the heavy caseload at the Institute. There wasn’t a single “full figured” thong in the Institute’s inventory. Silently, Tina cursed her economy measures and vowed to buy the “whale” size lingerie with her next Victoria’s Secret order. Tina decided to forego a bra as well. In the mirror, she saw that her boobs were quite big enough to outline her nipples through the uniform’s cloth. 

Tina pulled the hem down and checked that her shaved clam wasn’t exposed to view. Tina had been a shaver for two years on Tang Fang’s advice. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had a chance to see if it really “reminded men of their little sisters” in Fang’s words. She hoped that the hem of the uniform wouldn’t ride up over her arse, exposing her bare goodies before the appropriate moment.

Tina cursed herself for bragging about her sexual exploits to the other therapists. She had been provoked into fibbing in order to match the therapists’ reports about their sexual exploits with their patients. In reality, she had only one lover in her life. Tina achieved complete satisfaction on that first and only sexual encounter. The next morning, she looked forward to a fulfilling sex life but, when she rolled over to embrace her lover, her bed was empty. Her lone lover never even called back to reassure Tina that he still respected her.

Instead of the passion-filled evenings that Tina related over lunch to the other staff, the truth was that she spent her evenings taking courses in massage and aromatherapy. The courses had a purpose besides filling her barren, loveless hours. If she ever lost her job or became tired of office work, Tina wanted to open her own business offering massage and alternate medicine. Tina was building an “insurance policy.”

The therapists had requested Tina Yin to take care of the Institute’s most difficult patient on the false premise that she knew as much about sex as anyone in Dr. Wu’s employ. Tina consulted her well-thumbed copy of “Procedures and Practices Manual of the Hong Kong Institute of Sex Therapy.” Tina Yin knew every chapter almost by heart. Authored by Dr. Wu-Burnhamthorpe and extensively annotated and edited by Senior Therapist Tang Fang, the Manual described every possible problem a sex therapist might encounter and every possible position to counter the problem. The Manual provided Tina many hours of finger pleasure in the loo whilst her computer was downloading new software for the office. Now, it would guide her through the therapy procedure and compensate for her lack of experience.

Dr. Wu’s diagnosis sheet noted that Patient 8086 was a stressed-out businessman from America. Tina located her massage table and her case of essential oils in the locker room. Tina used the combination of massage and aromatherapy to great effect when soothing the aches and pains of therapists injured from over-exuberant sex. She never suspected that she would make use of her “insurance policy” to the benefit of one of Dr. Wu’s patients. Constantina Yin would succeed where the others had failed, using her singular skills at massage, aromatherapy plus Dr. Wu’s expert guidance, as set out in the Manual.

Patient 8086 was sitting naked in the lotus position on the bed in Room 1716. His ankles effectively concealed his willie, as if by design. By now, Tina Yin had gotten used to the fact that foreigners didn’t squat in the manner Chinese people did. Patient 8086 studiously ignored Tina, as he apparently ignored all the other therapists. Tina set up her massage table and covered it with a cloth. Patient 8086 was hunched over a notebook computer, furiously typing. Suddenly, his face turned red and he pounded his fists on the bed. “Goddamn Windows XP! It’s gone catatonic again on me.”

This display of temper didn’t faze Tina Yin in the least. With six years in the employ of Dr. Wu, she was quite used to seeing all kinds of strange behaviour. Since Dr. Wu opened the Institute, Tina had come to accept Americans’ boorish and impolite manners. The best way to get the attention of such a foreigner was to shake their confidence and strip away their sense of self-superiority. One look at the notebook screen and Tina knew exactly what was Patient 8086’s problem. 

“Excuse me, Patient 8086. It appears as if you are using Windows XP as your operating system. Our Chinese hackers have discovered that this product has at least three back doors, through which they can hijack your computer. That’s why your computer crashes so often. Once one of our diligent hackers discovers you are on line, he or she, as the case may be, quickly takes complete control of all your CPU resources. I hope you haven’t been trying to access your bank account.”

Tina knelt on the bed beside Patient 8086. Kneeling was awkward for her but she didn’t want to appear too alien for her first patient. Tina confirmed her diagnosis and entered a few simple commands that closed all the XP back doors. Patient 8086’s mouth dropped as he realized that the woman kneeling at his side had the answer to problems that had baffled his company’s best programmers for years. He turned and, for the first time actually looked directly at one of the Institute’s therapists.

“You’re a …. my God, you’re a Chinese woman but you’re the biggest nerd I’ve ever met. You’re a nerd, just like me and 97% of my employees! Can you fix the problem that Excel has with floating point arithmetic? Can you get rid of that stupid grinning paperclip in MS Office? And there are all those unresolved security issues with earlier versions of Outlook. By the way, who are you?”

Tina pressed her advantage whilst she had his attention. “Please, Patient 8086, one question at a time. My name is Su-Ning but most English speakers call me Constantina or Tina for short. Yes, I can fix all the problems you mention. But that’s not the problem you came to the Institute to fix.” Tina closed the notebook and motioned towards her massage table. “Now, I will work on this other little problem before we go back to the computer. Let me try an oriental technique, which has always helped the harried businessman relax. Up on the table, Patient 8086!”

Patient 8086 meekly obeyed his fellow nerd. It was obvious to him that this woman had superior computing knowledge. Perhaps she also possessed superior sexual powers as well. He climbed on the table, lay flat on his stomach and tried to ignore the cold metal beneath the cloth. Curiously, he watched his therapist blend the essential oils and carriers. Tina mixed borage and kuikui with an unrefined sunflower base for Patient 8086’s poor skin condition. Finally, she added a small amount of ylang ylang and mei chang for their aphrodisiac properties.

Tina began a full body massage on Patient 8086. As she rubbed his lower back with firm strokes and the essential oils on her hands, Patient 8086 visibly relaxed and his breathing became slower. Tina worked her way up his back, applying plenty of thumb friction on the shoulder blades and the and upper back. She straightened out her patient’s head, trying to ignore his appallingly bad haircut, and applied the same thumb pressure to the back of his neck. By now, Patient 8086’s eyes were tightly shut behind the thick glasses. He was visibly relaxed and contented under Tina’s soft hands. Tina turned her attention to the back of his legs, trying not to catch in her nails the multitude of short hairs on his legs.

With the back work done, she asked Patient 8086 to turn over. As she began to massage his feet, she remembered an illustration in a reflexology textbook. The picture of the foot located an erogenous zone in the arch area. Unwittingly, she applied extra thumb pressure to Patient 8086’s arch as she massaged his feet. As she worked her way up the front of Patient 8086’s leg, Tina was so absorbed in delivering a superior massage that she didn’t notice the effect that her unintended stimulation had on Patient 8086’s willie. Then her hand accidentally brushed his member while massaging his upper thigh.

Tina looked up and was shocked at the response of Patient 8086’s willie. What God had denied Bill Gates in looks, He had abundantly gifted between his legs. Bill Gates’ willie was thick and it was large. It stood erect, a pinkish shaft with a purple, shiny bulbous tip. A drop of liquid already appeared on the tip of his willie. Tina’s first sight of white willie both fascinated and frightened her. A shiver, unrelated to the room temperature, coursed through Tina’s body. She had very limited experience with willies and never with such a big one. Tina gained some comfort by recalling that the therapists at the Institute had often confided that they liked big willies the best.

Tina felt a trickle of liquid emanate from her bare pussy that flowed down the inside of her thick thighs. Patient 8086’s willie was hers to take. In fact, it was her duty to the Institute and as a citizen of the New China to take this willie for her own. She excitedly completed the massage regimen, the patient’s hands and finally the scalp. Tina removed the heavy glasses from Patient 8086’s bulbous nose and massaged him lightly but firmly on the scalp and forehead. She gazed at his now relaxed face and thought, “He’s not as ugly as the therapists said. In fact, I think he’s sort of cute.” Tina gave Bill Gates a light kiss on the forehead. His eyes opened and now it was his turn to be startled at his willie.




Mellow Yellow Ch. 23



“I see that you were successful at making my hard drive work. Does that mean I’m cured already? Is that all there is to it?”

“No, Patient 8086. I will now initiate another procedure which will insure that your hard drive remains booted up.” Tina tried to remember the basic procedures from the Sex Therapy Manual that Dr. Wu had written for use at the Institute. Chapter 4, The Blowjob, leapt to Tina Yin’s mind. Tina took off her thick lenses and placed them beside those of Patient 8086. She became exceedingly horny that she was about to implement Dr. Wu’s teachings.

As per the standard procedure in the Manual, Tina tried to put her small hand around the shaft of Patient 8086’s willie but her thumb wouldn’t touch her forefinger. Her hand shook slightly as she drew Patient 8086’s willie to her mouth. Her nose detected a musky male scent than made even more liquid gush over her thighs. This was the first willie that Tina ever had the chance to put in her mouth. She prayed her shaking hand wouldn’t jerk off her patient before she could proceed to Chapter 7 in the Manual, The Lay.

Patient 8086’s willie tasted slightly salty but pleasant as Tina’s tongue glided around the shaft and up to the tip. The Manual gave explicit instructions as to how the therapist should lick the shaft of the willie while not touching the tip. Only after 3 minutes of licking was the tip was to be inserted into the mouth. Tina followed the Manual obediently and inserted the object in her mouth, after the requisite licking. As the ridge of Patient 8086’s willie moved over her tongue, Tina felt as if she were swallowing a durian whole. The willie filled her mouth, stretched her lips and triggered a slight gag reflex at the back of her throat. Tina elected to skip Manual Section 4.2, Deep Throating.

Removing the willie from her mouth, Tina announced: “Are you ready to merge your files with me, 8086? It appears as if your hard drive is now fully booted up.”

“But, Nurse Tina, it has come to my attention that all the therapists in this clinic are Asian and of different races than my people. When my company makes anything, I ensure that it’s completely incompatible with the products of other companies. Isn’t it the same with people from different races? I mean, it’s only logical that Asian female parts aren’t hardware-compatible with American male parts? Weren’t we made so we won’t be able to merge.”

Tina laughed. “Is that why you ignored the other therapists? You thought that their sexual hardware was incompatible with your willie? I assure you that my yellow pussy is 100% compatible with your white willie, Patient 8086. A Chinese woman is a true plug and play device. Not only that, you will discover, while merging your white willie with my yellow pussy, that my Chinese-made operating system has no bugs, unlike the operating systems of Caucasian females. Please allow me to demonstrate.”

Finally, Patient 8086 found a woman who talked in terms he could understand. Tina Yin unzipped her uniform and let it drop to the ground, liberating her firm, round melon-like breasts. Free of her uniform’s confines, they rose and fell on her chest with every breath, now increasing with frequency.

Patient 8086 stared at Tina’s ample body. Yes, everything was exactly in place as on a white woman but, indefinably more sexy. Tina’s breasts seemed firmer than a white woman’s. That wasn’t it. Then Patient 8086 spotted the bald beaver and firm, tight pussy lips under her rounded stomach. Yes, the patient and his therapist were hardware-compatible.

Tina knelt astride Patient 8086’s legs but a poke of a willie-tip below her navel informed Tina that wouldn’t work. “Practices and Procedures” recommended kneeling for the horsie position but Tina realized that only the Chinese squat would work with a willie this big and a woman of her stature. Yes, the Chinese squat brought tall male and short female hardware into perfect alignment. Tina parted her stiff pussy lips and placed Patient 8086’s willie inside her pussy. Application of slight downward pressure brought no results. 

Despite her hefty external dimensions, Tina’s internal dimensions were as tight, probably even tighter than that of any Chinese woman. Tina was as blessed sexually as was her patient but it was definitely a mixed blessing with a pussy so tight trying to fit in a willie this big. Tina applied her full weight to the tip of 8086’s willie, feeling momentary discomfort as the tip spread the circumference of her vagina apart.

“Are you encountering system problems with the merge, Nurse Tina?”

“Can I explain the problem in these terms, Patient 8086. It’s as if we are trying to place a 1.525 Meg file on a 1.44 Meg disk. The only solution is to compress the file.”

Compress Tina Yin did, forcing Patient 8086’s willie further and further up into her interior being. To her surprise, the huge willie became more and more comfortable the further she pushed it up into her interior, aided by the copious lubrication she was producing. As Patient 8086’s bulbous willie tip touched her G-spot, it triggered an orgasm. Wave after wave of orgasm surged through Tina’s body. So what if it would be over quickly and Patient 8086 would be on his way back to America. 

Tina closed her narrow eyes. Patient 8086 was so much more enjoyable if she couldn’t see him. She let the wonderful feelings envelop her body and mind. Every time his willie rubbed her G-spot, it would trigger another spasm of joy that surged from her pussy outwards to her extremities, lighting flames in her head. Yes, there was nothing more glorious than sex.

The spasms ceased and the flames became extinguished. She opened her eyes. Patient 8086 was staring at the ceiling as if nothing had happened. His big willie was still rock hard and forcing her hips apart, the round tip pushing the end of her cunt up into her intestines. Tina couldn’t believe his indifference. She got up, Patient 8086’s willie making a muffled pop upon exit. Tina hopped off the table and stared at her patient’s willie in disbelief.

“You’re still tumescent, Patient 8086. Didn’t you find my Chinese-made hardware and programming to your satisfaction? Or did I cause your program to perform an illegal operation? It appears as if your program isn’t responding.”

“Was I supposed to initiate a program on my side of our connection?”

Tina shook her head. Either Patient 8086 had tremendous staying power or he was exactly what the other therapists said he was, the world’s biggest, most clueless nerd. Probably, Dr. Wu and Yang Kunyan were correct. This guy really didn’t know how to do it. The Practices and Procedures Manual contained zero information as to what to do in a situation like this. Tina decided that the best approach was to improvise. She closed the Manual and tossed it carelessly amidst her essential oils.

“Please come with me Patient 8086 and we’ll run a utility on your willie that will terminate your program properly. It’s called making love. Apparently you’ve never been programmed to make love. It’s time to upgrade your software, Patient 8086.”

Tina led Patient 8086 by the willie over to the bed. She lay down on her back and motioned to her patient to lie down beside her. How do nerds make love? The best way to describe nerdly lovemaking is to listen in as Bill Gates and Tina Yin work their way through their problem solving seminar:

“Now, Nurse Tina, what do you call this particular module of the making love program?”

“This module is termed foreplay. Just imagine it as the signaling protocol between a dialup modem and the server. There are certain actions to establish a proper handshake. First, we must kiss and you must respond to my kisses.”

“Did I execute the kissing module correctly, Nurse Tina?”

“Yes, Patient 8086 but don’t breathe through your mouth when it’s kissing mine. You’re making me dizzy. Now, I’ll demonstrate the use of the tongue as a sub-module of kissing.”

“Is that the extent of merging data, Nurse Tina?” 

“No, it’s merely the end of the signaling protocol. Place your tongue cursor on each button on my chest top, Patient 8086. That will enable my operating system to prepare for a file merge. Slowly rub your tongue cursor over each button. Ohhhh yessss, Patient 8086. Now move your cursor down my body and between my legs. Have you found my USB port, Patient 8086?”

“Yes, but I’ve found something even more interesting. I believe that what you term your USB port is usually obscured by fuzzy logic on white women.”

“Don’t put the cursor on my USB port just yet. That’s it, drag and click up and down my thighs. Now, insert your tongue cursor in the USB port and drag and click the substances you find emanating from the pussy core.”

“AMMMA AMMMA, AMMMA.”

“Don’t actualize your sound card at the same time as your cursor. That is causing the conflicts you now experience. Concentrate on the button at the top of my USB port. That’s it. Double click, no, triple click, no quadruple click. AAAAIIIYYYEEE. Yes, that’s another icon that will execute my orgasm program.”

“Can you find your joystick between your own legs? Would you please insert your joystick into my USB socket? That will allow you entry to the second level of this game.”

“Is my joystick supposed to be so swollen and firm? I’ve never seen it like this. Are you sure that your essential oils haven’t caused an allergic reaction?”

“Now, place your main cursor between the two vertical graphical outlines where you see fuzzy logic on white women. Pressing the cursor between the vertical frames should cause the outlines to recede, revealing the second level of this game.”

“Oh yes, I’ve entered the second level, Nurse Tina. Do you need more available space on my hard drive?”

“Yes, Patient 8086. Please overwrite all sectors from the previous execution. I need all available space on the hard drive. That’s it. Yes, you’re erasing all previous data. you’re rewriting my registry now.

“It appears to me as if you are applying a compression program with great results.” 

“All right, patient 8086. I want you to begin to increase your connection speed while modulating your RAM frequency. That’s it. Faster now.”

“But, Nurse Tina, my RAM is signaling that it’s about to download a large file into your RAM cache.”

“Oh yes, Patient 8086, my RAM cache is freeing up space for your download. Yes, I can feel the data being transferred. My operating system is about to execute my orgasm. AAIIIIYYEEE.!!!!!!”

The two nerds lay together in each other’s arms, trying to breathe normally again, despite the perspiration rolling off their bodies. The “download” trickled through the crack of Tina’s wide bum. That gave her an idea while she had Patient 8086’s attention. Tina got up on her knees with her bum facing towards her patient.

“That was an excellent beta version fuck, Patient 8086. Now I will upgrade your operating system to Service Pack 3. Pay attention and I’ll show you how to find the back door of my Chinese-designed operating system.” 

Part 4 – The Job Evaluation

Constantina Yin walked with a slightly bow-legged gait down the hall to the Director’s office. She did her best to ignore her lower parts, sore from the pounding they had taken from Bill Gates’ “hard drive.” Her pussy lips and the crack of her arse were red and chapped from tightly clamping Patient 8086’s willie as he furiously thrust in and out at warp speed. Any discomfort Tina felt was more than compensated by the relaxing warmth of multiple orgasms that flowed through her body from head to foot. Her round face bore the self-satisfied smile of the well-laid woman. Dr. Wu often bragged about the great sex she had when poked by her husband’s huge white willie. Now, she knew the truth for herself.

Dr. Susan Wu-Burnhamthorpe pored over the extensive notes she took while monitoring Tina Yin from the Quality Control Room. These notes would form the basis for her next academic paper in the Asia-Pacific Journal of Sex Therapy: “Severe Personality Disorders Resulting in Penile Dysfunction - The Nerd.” Susan had doubted inwardly that Tina had the assets, physical and mental, to be a sex therapist. Now, Susan smiled with pride at another successful cure by the newest member of her team of Asian sex therapists. She looked up from her notes at Tina’s knock on the door.

“Come in Su-Ning. I was just thinking about you. I must commend your work with Mr. Gates today. You really aided the Institute maintain its reputation as an innovator in the field of sex therapy, as well as a leading earner of foreign exchange. Would you consider adding some therapy to your duties as office manager? I believe that, thanks to your work with Mr. Gates, we will have a flood of nerds seeking help for their willies in the future. We will provide you with a part-time assistant so you can help with our anticipated nerd caseload. We also accept your recommendation to stock larger sizes of lingerie.”

“Oh Dr. Wu, I would love to continue working with you but Mr. Gates wants me to go to America and be his executive assistant. I will be recruiting Chinese women programmers and, together with Mr. Gates’ company, we will develop the InterFuck. Can you imagine how peaceful the world will become as men all over the world will be able to enjoy sex with a Chinese woman without having to visit the Far East?”

No employee had ever told Susan to “Take this job and shove it.” She didn’t know whether to be angry at Tina’s ingratitude, to cry at the loss of her valuable executive assistant or to be happy that her dream of the InterFuck was about to become a reality. It was a strange experience for a psychiatrist to have to choose from a menu of options. 

Part 5 – Bill Gates’ Executive Meeting

Bill Gates’ secretary brought the pot of jasmine tea into the Corporate Board Room. There was obvious grumbling at the CEO’s changes to Board meetings from the caffeine-addicted Vice Presidents. Besides resenting banishment of the boardroom coffee percolator, the entire executive suite was jealous of the rapid rise through the corporate ranks of the cherubic Chinese woman, presently seated at the boardroom table to the CEO’s right. What hold did this recent immigrant from Hong Kong have over Bill Gates? Was his clandestine trip to the Orient in any way connected to her fast-tracked career? 

As the secretary filled the porcelain cups and placed one in front of the CEO, it was quite obvious that Bill Gates was a changed man. The beatific smile could only come from a man well-laid the previous night. She had heard rumours that Melinda Gates was three months pregnant so it was strange that her boss was still getting it. The mystery of exactly where Bill Gates was getting it was solved when the secretary detected a game of footsie between her boss and the lady on his right. Bill Gates called the meeting to order.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. The first item on our agenda is the introduction of my new executive assistant, Ms. Constantina Yin.” Bill Gates motioned with his right hand. “Please stand up Ms. Yin. Tina, ahem, I mean Ms. Yin will accompany me on all my business trips over the next six months, as well as acting as liaison officer on the InterFuck Project. Now we will proceed to the next agenda item. The VP Personnel will report on the recruiting drive for Chinese women to program the InterFuck.”



Mellow Yellow Ch. 24



Chapter 25: The Nanny from Hell and the Great Whore of Saigon pay Melinda and Paul a visit

My advice to every white guy who's reading this: get yourself an Asian woman. Ditch the white bitch. Asian women are more intelligent and harder working than white women are. They seldom get angry and, best of all, never get angry without any apparent reason the way that white one does. An Asian woman will never blindside you the way a white one will. Best of all, they're a real treat in the sack. Don't just take my word for it. Try one out if you think I'm putting you on.

My wife, Melinda, is a perfect example. She brings home good money from work, she always has a great meal on the table, she's a great mother and she really responds to good loving in the bed. So what if she has this Vietnamese thing about how the woman takes care of the money in the family? I don't mind that one at all. She really treats me right and lets me buy whatever toys a red-blooded Canadian guy needs. Besides, being free of paying bills lets me concentrate on my own work.

Now, I know that some of you white boys out there are a little slow so I'll repeat this step by step for your benefit. First, get rid of that white woman because she isn't treating you the way you deserve. Second, find yourself an Asian woman, the ultimate women who roam the face of the earth looking for men. Third, and this is the most important one, so pay attention: treat that Asian woman right and, in return, she'll treat you so well you'll think you've died and gone to heaven.

Once I didn't treat Melinda well and I paid for it. When Melinda and I first got it on, I told her that she was the first Vietnamese woman I ever had. For Melinda, it was important that we discover the interracial thing together. Then she found out that I lied to her. Before we even met, I screwed an older Vietnamese woman, Nguyen Hièp. What made it worse was that Melinda didn't get along with Mrs. Nguyen, partly because Melinda is half Chinese, partly because Mrs. Nguyen's ex-career during the war was as a "bar hostess". Never lie to your Asian woman. That's another bit of advice I'll pass along. As a result of my little lie, there were a lot of tears, loss of face, getting cut off for a while, unpleasant things that I won't delve into in any great depth.

One of the little unpleasantries Melinda put me through was that she made me relate my entire sexual history. Fortunately for me, except for Mrs. Nguyen, the women were all white and every single one was a bitch, including Mrs. N. I didn't have to lie about any of that. On the other hand, when I asked Melinda about the guy she boinked in her student days back in Vietnam, she dropped the sexual history routine just like that. I don't know if it's the oriental mind or just a woman thing. Probably the latter. The rules are different for girls, even when the girl is Vietnamese. 

Just to prove that I'm hooked on Asian women, I've been faithful to Melinda since we got married. OK, there was Vanessa, our former nanny, when Melinda was having our youngest. Vanessa doesn't really count because she's Asian as well, from the Philippines. When Melinda gets knocked up, she doesn't want sex after her third month. Vanessa came on to me while I was cut off and, well, you know how it is.

Vanessa dropped me as soon as Melinda came home with the baby, so I really was faithful to Melinda as far as I was concerned. You understand serial monogamy, don't you? I don't think Melinda realized I was fucking our nanny and I wasn't about to tell her. While I'm on the subject of Vanessa, she was just as good a lay as Melinda. They both had nice tight pussies and screamed in a high-pitched voice when they came. If anything, Vanessa confirmed that sex with Asian women was the best kind.

Given that sex with Asian women is the best, is it possible to get too much of a good thing? Under most circumstances, I would say it's impossible to get too much Asian pussy. I want to tell you a story of, on one occasion, I had too much Asian cunt in the house. It began about two years after PhilCan Nannies Inc. provided Fortunata as Vanessa's replacement.

Fortunata may have been a Filipina but she wasn't at all like Vanessa. Fortunata was middle-aged with a husband and three kids at home. She was all business, hardly ever talked and she never wanted to be alone in the same room as me. In fact, she didn't want to be in the same house as me, preferring to live in the nanny ghetto. That way, she could go to the 6 am Mass before work. Fortunata native language was Bikol so I couldn't use any nice Tagalog words I learned from Vanessa. For all that, she was good with the kids and I could forgive her a lot for that. OK, so maybe not all Asian women are begging for white dick but three out of four means great odds in my humble opinion.

Life was simple, quiet and uneventful after Vanessa went back to the Philippines. Or at least I thought things were cool until I noticed that Melinda was spending a lot of time on the computer. That wasn't the strange part. Melinda always spent a lot of time e-mailing or chatting with her friends. She was never shy about sharing her e-mail with me. Believe me, some of her friends got into some strange shit. They confided in Melinda and I discreetly rewrote everything and posted it on Literotica.

Whatever it was that was going on, Melinda stayed ominously silent behind the closed door to my office. Obviously, I was curious whether she was chatting up some other guy on the Net. Or worse, was she lining up to meet the guy? Even worse, what if the other guy was hung up on Asian women the way I am?

Being an average male with an average amount of trust, I set up my snooper program to monitor what Melinda was up to. By recording all the keystrokes, I managed to see that Melinda had set up a Webmail account and was sending e-mail to Vanessa. Melinda's e-mail looked innocent enough but a look at Vanessa's side of the story would put my fears to rest. I scored Melinda's password and hacked into her Webmail. I wasn't prepared for what I found.

From: {Vanessa Reyes} ssss@freemail.ph 

To: {Tran Mei-Ling} ssss@yahoo.ca

Dear, dear Mei-Ling:

Oh, thank you so much for allowing me to call you by your given name. Mrs. Tran has always felt so cold and distant to me especially since that night we shared together. I am so delighted that we are drawing closer again. I feared that my boldness with you that evening cost me our friendship.

I have left the country house I shared with those three other women in Aurora. It was nice and pastoral, a good place to bring up Pablo. The problem was the "sisterhood. Really they were just after my body. They had no interest in helping me raise my son or in advancing themselves either. I told them I left because I found a job at last as a nurse in Mindanao. That's the truth but the real reason I left was because the society of gay women can be so cold and so suffocating at the same time. Here, I can be alone, pay attention to my dear son, discover myself and my own peculiar form of womanhood.

Pablo, my son, Paul's son, your stepson, is a delight to me, even though he is sometimes a devilish little toddler. He is the complete envy of all the other toddlers here in Mindanao because of his light skin. I wish very much to bring him to you so Auntie Mei-Ling and his father, Paul, can delight in him as much as I do. I thank you and Paul for giving me this gift of motherhood.

But how can this be, my dear Mei-Ling asks? You can share my life and my child if you will sponsor me to move to Canada. Dear Mei-Ling, the situation in the Philippines is intolerable. Our government is corrupt and our glorious leader is an unelected stupid asshole. The MNLF is constantly threatening our city, even the hospital where I work. I am not safe and my precious child is not safe.

Mei-Ling, I love you even more than Paul does. You must let me come to you again. I long to feel you in my arms again, to feel your silky, golden skin against my body, my breasts against your breasts. I need your tongue running up and down my slit as my tongue travels the same route through your pussy. We need to be as close physically as we now are close in spirit. Can two women who have shared the same man not want to be as intimate with each other? I know you don't think of yourself as a lesbian like me but I know better. Leave behind your Vietnamese denial of love between two women. Any woman who yielded her body to me the way you did must love me the same way I do her.

Please, Mei-Ling. Help me. Take me from here to be by your side. Please pull some strings to get me a nursing job in Canada. Please sponsor me. I have nursing experience now and I almost have enough money saved. I know I have no right to ask anything more of you. When I was your nanny, you gave everything to me your home, your husband, even yourself.

With all my Love

Vanessa 

I was shocked at first. Yet, the letter explained a lot of things. I wasn't surprised that I now had a kid in the Philippines. Vanessa was visibly pregnant when she left our employ. The e-mail also cleared up whether Melinda knew that Vanessa was screwing me and that it was me who got Vanessa pregnant. The shock of the e-mail was discovering that Vanessa was queer. That explained why Melinda and Vanessa were such "good friends" together.

Explanations only brought more questions. Was Vanessa faking orgasms when she screwed me? And then, turning around and screwing my wife showed a lot of gall. Was Vanessa A nanny with chutzpah or was she the Nanny from Hell. Was it Melinda who initiated the sex between the two of them? Did Melinda set up my affair as an excuse to have one of her own with our nanny? Not only was Melinda fooling around on me, she fooled around with the same woman.

I completely calmed down and backed out of Melinda's mailbox. Confronting Melinda with the e-mail would only make things worse. I wasn't prepared for a divorce and the humiliation of my wife leaving for another woman. I had to think this over and wait for Melinda to make a move. I didn't have to wait long. The shoe dropped a few nights later after a very, very satisfying fuck. I should have seen it coming because Melinda was really aggressive and on top that night. Normally, Asian women are passive but responsive in their lovemaking.

Post-fuck, Melinda lay on her side with her head propped up on her arm, absolutely proud of herself. I could see all the curves on her shapely golden body. The damp triangle between her legs shone with liquids of varying density, despite the low light in the bedroom. Melinda had me right where she wanted me and she didn't waste the opportunity.

"Paul, I want to discuss Vanessa with you. I think we should sponsor her and her son to immigrate to Canada. She has to get out of the Philippines and I want to help the poor woman. I think you should want to as well. It's the same thing as when you helped resettle Vietnamese refugees like me. I know that means our house will be bulging full for a while but it's something we should do. Look, it won't be all that bad. Vanessa can use the same room she had when she worked here and her son can sleep next door in the small bedroom in the basement. Fortunata would be more than happy to take care of Pablo while the two of them are staying here. Say we'll do this, please Paul?"

Of course I said yes. When an Asian woman has just fucked me nearly unconscious and displays the tools that did the job, she can ask whatever she wants and "Yes" will always be my answer. 

The next day, reality began. Fortunata was more than a bit sour when we informed her that she might have to take care of another kid. She waved her contract in our faces pointing to the clause stipulating four children. Fortunata demanded a 20% raise, immediately. As the money manager in the house, Melinda readily agreed. Melinda also had difficulties with Immigration Canada. I didn't get involved but it was something about points and how it was almost impossible to sponsor a non-family member.

While Melinda was making arrangements with Immigration, I made my arrangements with the home security supplies store. I already had two outside cameras to keep check on the front and back doors and one in the nursery to watch over the youngest. I set the monitor up in my office so I could keep an eye on the kids and work at the same time. I convinced the ex-cop who ran the store that I needed another camera with infrared capabilities for the side of the house away from the street. Of course, that camera went in the heating duct in the spare bedroom, nowhere near the side of the house. If Vanessa tried anything on Melinda, I'd catch them in the act.

The night that Vanessa's flight landed was, conveniently for Melinda, Fortunata's night off. Melinda could hardly contain her delight with the situation.

"Somebody has to stay home and take care of the kids. I'm not paying for a nanny and a babysitter and sponsoring Vanessa all at the same time. Paul, don't look at me as if I'm a stingy old witch. I won't be long and you can go back and play on your computer after you've been civil and said hello to our guests. I'll help Vanessa settle in after her trip."

So, there I was, left behind to fret whether my wife was going to make a scene wet-kissing her lesbian lover at the airport. Would they pull off the road someplace to fool around a bit and then excuse being late by blaming it on a delayed flight? That "I'll help Vanessa settle in" bit sounded especially ominous. Did Melinda want to settle into Vanessa's pants her first night in our house?

All of these thoughts were rolling around my head when the front door rang. What had Melinda forgotten now? Life is full of surprises. It wasn't Melinda. It was Nguyen Hièp, the old Saigon hooker who first introduced me to the delights of yellow pussy. I hadn't seen Mrs. Nguyen for years and here she was, right on my doorstep.

She looked tired, her face was drawn and lacked makeup. Definitely the economic situation had worsened for the Nguyen family in the last 12 years. Her clothes looked as if they were bought at the dollar rack at the Goodwill Store. Actually, if she was still married to the same guy, they were probably stolen from the Goodwill. If I remember Nguyen Ðuc well, he was quite fond of five-fingered discounts. Nguyen Hièp looked exactly like a tiny Chinatown bag lady.

I was about to invite Mrs. Nguyen in when she invited herself. She plopped herself in my recliner, putting her small suitcase beside her. Mrs. Nguyen arranged herself daintily, pulling up her worn skirt and exposing enough yellow thigh to pique my interest. Then she crossed her legs towards me so I had a full inside view of the Vietnamese thigh. She was still a compulsive talker, even though her English was as bad as ever.

"You must to help me, Ông Paul. I no can stay Vancouver. Three Korean dude come take away Ðuc. Say he steal them money and they take him go find. Ðuc, him never come back. Now Korean say I have money and they want me give them. They watch apartment all time. I leave one night back door, take bus, come this city. Korean no find me if you let me stay you house. Hey, you still have Chinese woman?"

"Actually, bà Nguyen, she's only half Chinese. Her father was Vietnamese. Yes, we're still married and we have four children. You know that she doesn't like you very much. That may be a problem for you to stay here." 

"I know already Chinese woman no like Nguyen Hièp. You call me Hièp, OK? You white people say 'Like Mother, like daughter.' So, she no like Vietnamese like all Chinese. Ông Paul, you like me? You let me stay? You owe me big time. Remember when Ðuc away go out of town, I make all time nice Vietnamese dinner and then we have good time fuck, no? 

Of course I said yes, she could stay. Mrs. Nguyen was an Asian woman and she had me right where she wanted me. I remembered her pig tail soup and all the other goodies she always made for me. Damn, did her kitchen smell good. Actually, her pussy smelled even better than her kitchen. Mrs. Nguyen introduced me to the smell and taste of Asian pussy, the finest object a white boy can put on the tip of his tongue. I loved eating Mrs. Nguyen's pussy, even if she wasn't as tight as a young Vietnamese woman when I finally got around to the stick work.

Mrs. Nguyen knew how to parlay my sense of obligation and gratitude into a few free nights in the spare bedroom. Besides, maybe Mrs. Nguyen could prove useful in keeping Melinda in line. I made Nguyen Hièp some tea and found some leftovers for her to eat. I made enough tea so that, when Melinda finally arrived with Vanessa and Pablo, maybe we could all sit down and sort out the situation like civilized people.

The door bell rang again. This time, it was Melinda with Vanessa and, I assumed, Pablo. I didn't need to make any assumptions about Vanessa. That delicious, curvaceous brown body was the same as I remembered it. Well, I didn't remember Vanessa being so chesty. Was it her stylish clothes or did motherhood agree with her? In any other situation, I might have gotten a stiffy at the sight of an Asian beauty. Having to tell Melinda that my sordid past had just arrived in the present kept my dick and my voice soft.

Melinda was obviously annoyed that Mrs. Nguyen messed up her planning. In fact, the whole situation was tricky. Melinda hated Mrs. Nguyen, Vanessa was more interested in Melinda than me, and Mrs. Nguyen was contemptuous of Melinda because she wasn't pure Vietnamese. Being male, I tried to be strictly neutral in the middle of all this seething estrogen-fueled bitchery, but the truth was that I really didn't care for the thought of Vanessa screwing my wife.

Fortunately, there was one male who was strictly neutral. Pablo fit in with the kids like a brother. After all, he was a brother, or at least a half-brother. Pablo was fascinated by his first time in a Western house. Our kids were fascinated that Pablo was Eurasian like they were. Now they wouldn't stick out so much. The sight of kids having fun took the edge off the tension.

The adult tension was also attenuated because Asians need to save face. We chatted about the missing years in each others' lives and everyone was excessively polite. We even came to a solution as to how to accommodate everyone. We decided that Pablo would bunk in the nursery with Cadeo and Mrs. Nguyen would have the small spare bedroom. Vanessa would have the large spare bedroom in case Pablo wanted Mommy in the middle of the night. Nobody fought with anybody. That's how things work with Asian women. A problem that can't be solved today will be solved tomorrow.

I carried all the luggage downstairs and Melinda grumpily decided to forgo helping Vanessa "settle in." Probably she didn't want me helping her old nemesis to "settle in" the next bedroom. Melinda's bad mood continued after we put Pablo to bed in the nursery.

"How could you agree to let THAT woman stay under the same roof as me? She hates me and she'll be a bad influence on the children. She's just the Great Whore of Saigon. Is taht the example you want for Tanya and Lin? In Vancouver, she said that she associated with members of Asian gangs. Do you want Damien and Cadeo to take up that kind of life?"

"Um, Melinda, Saigon is called Ho Chi Minh City these days. Please Melinda, when I agreed to sponsor Vanessa, you made a big deal out of how she needed our help. Now Nguyen Hièp needs a tiny bit of help as well. I know you think she doesn't deserve it but could you ever sleep peacefully knowing that you turned her over to three Korean gangsters?"

"Don't you dare correct me about Saigon and don't call that woman Hièp around me. It's bà Nguyen or Mrs. Nguyen in my presence. Are you thinking of screwing her? Well, get that thought out of your mind or you'll regret it. I want her out of here as soon as you can find an apartment for her."




Mellow Yellow Ch. 24



Melinda was going totally white on me. So I ate shit and said I'm sorry that I let Mrs. Nguyen stay. I promised to encourage her to hide out somewhere else. Melinda looked a little less grumpy at my groveling. The whole situation was tiring, plus she had a full day of work tomorrow so she wanted just to go to bed. I said that I wanted to surf the net for a while and chat with Charles Burnhamthorpe in Hong Kong. Melinda sulked off to the bedroom.

I closed my office door and turned on the video monitor. I checked Pablo and Cadeo in the nursery and they were both fast asleep. I switched to the camera in Vanessa's room to make sure that Melinda didn't change her mind and go teepee creeping for Filipina pussy. I was relieved when Vanessa come alone into the room carrying a glass and a toothbrush. She put down her oral hygiene implements. Then she walked over to the full length wall mirror and started to pose in various positions.

I installed the mirror in the spare bedroom during my nanny-fucking period so that Vanessa and I could watch each other in various positions. She stuck out her chest. Yes, she was bigger there than when she worked for us. Then she moved her hips from one side to the other, posing with her hands on her hips like a young hooker. She stuck her ass out like one of those amateurs in English tit and bum papers. Finally, she made like a ballerina and then a fashion model. Vanessa was obviously enjoying her own body and so was I.

Still, I was getting impatient to see if that expanded chest was padding or if motherhood had changed Vanessa from a B-cup to a C. I didn't have to wait too long. Vanessa stopped posing, pulled off her halter top and tossed it on a chair. She sniffed her armpits, as if she was checking how bad she smelled after the trip from Manila. 

When she had her last sniff, Vanessa got her arms out of her bra straps. Then she turned her bra around, letting her tits tumble into view. They had grown and her nipples were more prominent than I remembered. Vanessa temporarily obscured the view as she unhooked her bra from the front. I got a good look at the size, shape and perkiness as she scratched the bra wire marks under each boob. Then Vanessa rubbed each tit and took each nipple between her fingers, stiffening them the same way my dick was stiffening. I wished it were me rubbing those boobs and flicking those nips.

Vanessa bent over to take off her sandals. Her hip huggers exposed a bit of the crack in her ass, like an overweight plumber bending. Scratch that. No way was Vanessa overweight. She proved that when she straightened to drop her panties to the floor. Vanessa hadn't put on any weight, except for those pneumatic boobs. All of this was fun, but when would I get bush? Right away, sir. Vanessa walked over to her suitcase, pulled out a nightie and gave me a frontal view. I caught a flash of bush as the nightie dropped over her head and over her thin form, like the curtain dropping at the theatre.

It looked to me as if the show was over. Vanessa turned out the light so I switched the camera to infrared to check. She pulled up the covers and curled up on her side. I was just about to check on Cadeo and Pablo, when Vanessa turned over restlessly. Then she turned back again and finally laid on her back. Finally, she threw off the bedcovers and gave me a clear view of what was keeping her from sleeping off her jetlag. Vanessa's hand was between her legs. She was beating her meat.

Even though this was all in black and white, I could make out her palm on her bush with two fingers spreading her pussy with the third stroking up and down the inside. I could make out her tits heaving up and down as she breathed in and out with force. Whatever it was, Vanessa was having one good fantasy. I thought that I should have wired up the spare bedroom for sound for some clue as to the fantasy. Vanessa brought up her knees and looked at herself in the mirror. She was fucking a guy in her head. Not just any guy. Vanessa's fantasy stud must be me. I was the only guy who ever fucked her on that bed. Probably, I was wrong. Probably Vanessa wasn't a dike, just AC/DC.

Whatever Vanessa was and whatever she was really thinking, she started to move her whole hand up and down. I couldn't see what her fingers were doing in her slot but she must have been furiously rubbing her clit. She threw her head from side to side with great force, with her mouth open, probably in some nice moans and gasps. Man, was she ever doing herself.

Just at the end, she lifted her ass off the bed. Her hand was a complete blur on the infrared. The heat in that area blocked out everything else in the room. All I could see was red hot thighs and, between them, a disembodied hand furiously moving up and down. I expected smoke to come off her clit at any moment. The show ended with Vanessa collapsing in a relaxed heap. Finally, she curled up and closed her eyes. Channel 4 had shut down for the night.

Maybe the show was over but I wasn't. Vanessa's performance had grown a nice stiff one between my legs. I didn't realize I had any of the voyeur in me and that made me feel like a pervert. I quickly excused my guilt by reminding myself that Vanessa used to watch me fucking Melinda. Life is fair. Still, what to do with my woodie?

You say that, with a house full of Asian cunt to chose from, what's the problem? Well, each one posed a different problem. I eliminated Vanessa as too tired and too gay for my purposes. Besides, I couldn't very well creep into her room, announce that I saw her doing herself and wouldn't she want the real thing? Mrs. Nguyen? I wasn't about to go there, after Melinda's warning that something bad would happen if I didn't keep my dick to myself. As for Melinda, she wasn't particularly happy with me when she turned in. Evaluating and balancing all the issues in this situation, Melinda was my best bet for fast, fast relief.

The solution I chose was to resurrect a rape fantasy Melinda and I tried once in the days before we had kids. That just might work, given the Melinda's mood. So, I quietly crept into the bedroom and greased up my dick with KY. I climbed into bed and slipped Melinda the woodie without asking for permission. It worked like a hot damn. Melinda really got off pretending the Mad Rapist was ravishing her feminine parts. As for me, my mind traveled two floors below me to some nice, hot brown pussy.

(to be continued)



Mellow Yellow Ch. 25



Chapter 25: Yellow pussy for breakfast - aged to perfection

Melinda, my wife, showered, dressed and ate her breakfast without saying one stinking little word to me. I couldn't decipher anything from her face either. That's how Vietnamese women are. When they're not happy, they clam up instead of pouting or throwing a tantrum the way white women do. I thought I made her a little bit happy with that rape fantasy last night. Obviously, I was wrong. 

What could possibly make Melinda so unhappy, you ask? Here's the situation. We had two unwanted houseguests, our former AC/DC nanny Vanessa and Mrs. Nguyen, the ex-Saigon bar hostess who gave me my first piece of yellow snatch. Ever since I fucked Mrs. Nguyen, I haven't stuck my dick into anything that didn't have a "made in Asia" label. Obviously, Melinda wasn't too happy to see Mrs. Nguyen show up in close proximity to my dick.

As for me, I wasn't 100% sure about Melinda and Vanessa's "friendship" but I had to keep those two apart so the "friendship" didn't become a "relationship". The obvious solution to both problems involved getting Nguyen Hièp and Vanessa Reyes out of the house as fast as western and eastern face-saving permitted. With two dangerous houseguests of a typically horny couple, how does one say "ménage à quatre" in Vietnamese?

Melinda took Tanya and Damien and dropped them off at school on her way to work. Fortunata took our two youngest as well as Pablo to the pediatrician. Fortunata was adamant that her contract didn't specify that she had to be in two places at the same time, and "ordered" me to clean up the kitchen. I rinsed off one dish, which resulted in a high-pitched female scream from the downstairs bathroom. Something female and Asian was taking a shower.

About 20 minutes later, Mrs. Nguyen appeared at the top of the stairs to the kitchen. Her hair was wet and straggling over her ears. She had wrapped herself in one of those enormous bath sheets that only women use. She was covered tits to mid-thigh in damp terrycloth, wound up like a fajita. Her feet were shod in a pair of cheap rubber thong sandals. Not much chance to see if Nguyen Hièp's body was showing age. At least I knew who it was that I cold-water nailed in the shower.

Mrs. Nguyen was slight in stature and always smiling. You might mistake her for an innocent child if you didn't know better. In reality, Nguyen Hièp survivor skills and more finely-honed street smarts than a Saõ Paolo street urchin. She could be absolutely bitchy to other women and a predator for anything white with a dick hanging between his legs. Given what I knew about her and her employment résumé from Vietnam, I wasn't about to treat her like a child. 

"You have one nice house, Ông Paul. Must to fix shower. Sometimes water too cold for Vietnamese lady. Maybe OK for white lady. Say, Chinese lady you marry make big money. You tell her get someone to fix shower. Maybe Chinese lady have big money but no good in bed or kitchen like Vietnamese lady I think. Ông Paul have something eat?"

I found some of Melinda's Vietnamese ox-tail soup in the refrigerator. I heated that up and boiled some of those big, round rice noodles Vietnamese people love. A pile of cilantro leaves and, voilà, no more complaints about Melinda's cooking. Mrs. Nguyen attacked her soup two-handed, chopsticks in one hand and a ceramic spoon in the other, while noisily slurping down the noodles. It wasn't pretty but Mrs. Nguyen definitely enjoyed her food. Maybe I have a mind that's much too imaginative but watching the round, thick, white rice noodles Mrs. Nguyen sucked into her mouth made me speculate about all the white dick that must have disappeared into that mouth over the years.

Under ordinary circumstances, Mrs. Nguyen could be a compulsive talker. Maybe compulsive talker isn't exactly the right description. To tell you the truth, Mrs. Nguyen constantly prattled in broken English. Listening to Mrs. Nguyen for any length of time was like listening to James Joyce Does?anang. Mrs. Nguyen's jumbled one-sided conversations were enough to give a white boy a headache. Thankfully, a mouth full of hot soup and noodles makes for some welcome peace and quiet. I took advantage of the break to give my unwanted houseguest the once over. 

How old was she anyway? Mrs. Nguyen didn't have a grey hair in her head. That didn't prove anything. Maybe she had a talented hairdresser or a decent supply of black shoe polish. My eyes moved down to her tits but she was wrapped in too much terry cloth to judge the state of her tits. No, there weren't any clues on her chest. Even if Mrs. Nguyen did a Janice Jackson, it wouldn't do my research any good. Small-breasted women, and Vietnamese women in particular, definitely aren't world class in the hooter department and they never get saggy in their old age. 

Vietnamese women are the same as any other women in at least one respect. You can't ask a Vietnamese woman directly how old she is. At least, you don't pose that question if you want to live to collect your Canada Pension Plan. However, you can ask a Vietnamese woman where she fits on the Chinese zodiac, the same way you can ask a white woman "What's your sign, baby?" Since the Chinese zodiac cycle repeats every twelve years, you can make more than an educated guess as to a woman's age. When Mrs. Nguyen put down her spoon and chopsticks, I asked in my most inscrutable western manner:

"Bà Nguyen, I was just wondering what your year was. I was born in the year of the Horse. What's your year?"

Mrs. Nguyen let go of the spoon and chopsticks and banged her palms together in opposite directions. You can take the hooker out of the bar but she's still a hooker.

"Ông Paul, I think you never ask. You so cold like ice last night. I Tiger. Tiger woman and Horse man make good fuck. And you real horse. Have banana big like horse. Ông Paul, all time I in Vancouver I miss you big, hard banana, hard like jade. Ðuc, him have little saiphun noodle between legs, not big banana like Ông Paul. Since Ðuc go away, I no have banana, not even small noodle. You must to help me one this time, Ông Paul. You stuff Nguyen Hièp full with big banana?"

Yeah, and Horses are also supposed to be compatible with Pigs. And here I had a real pig in Mrs. Nguyen. I did a quick calculation in my head. Nguyen Hièp was in her early 40's when I fucked her before I married Melinda. I met Melinda 12 years ago so Mrs. Nguyen must be in her 50's now. Geez, she was born in the Year of the Horse, 1948, and that made her 54 years old. Old enough to be a granny, no, old enough to be a great-granny, given how young Vietnamese girls marry. No way was my "big, hard banana" going to end up between the legs of a 54 year-old Tiger.

"Well, Bà Nguyen, I really don't think we should start anything again. Our affair was over long ago. Besides, Miss Reyes could wake up anytime or Fortunata could come back with the kids. I didn't mean to bring up the topics of our affair or your late husband. I think we should change the subject. Now, how do we locate an apartment for you where your Korean friends can't find you."

Mrs. Nguyen still had keen bar smarts. She sensed my ambiguity concerning her proposition. Quickly, she hit the right button to get a yes out of me. Mrs. Nguyen accidentally let the lower part of her towel fall to one side, exposing her pussy. Dammit, Mrs. Nguyen didn't have one grey hair in her bush either. Actually, she didn't have much hair of any colour on her bush. Her bare, tight yellow clam was there for all to see, as she cracked her thighs slightly for a white boy's benefit.

"You like eat Vietnamese pussy? No Vietnamese man ever eat my pussy, just Ông Paul. OK, maybe two, three other white guy in Saigon, no big deal. But Ông Paul eat my pussy best. Him have big banana and him tongue can kill Vietnamese lady. Vietnamese man no like eat pussy. We make deal, Ông Paul. You eat pussy and I let you stick banana in Nguyen Hièp."

I have no idea how Mrs. Nguyen knew how desperate I was for just a little taste of pussy on my tongue. Melinda works as a nursing supervisor. About a year ago, she went on a course to study "women's problems." Apparently, the fanatic teaching the course believed that, when women caught herpes, clamydia and scurvy, it was all the result of oral sex. Melinda fell for this line of thinking, big time. For the last year, I hadn't had a taste or a sniff of her pussy. Melinda was just as horny as ever but she never wanted tongue in the slot, just the banana.

If you're an accomplished, or even a beginner level, muff diver, you can imagine what a year without a whiff of the scent of cunt can do to a man. And here Mrs. Nguyen was serving up Vietnamese pussy for breakfast, the tastiest, best smelling snatch a man can lick. Nguyen Hièp had me right where she wanted me and she knew it. With that perpetual saintly Vietnamese smile on her face, she said:

"We go now someplace comfortable, OK? You no worry. I be quiet like small snake even you make me come. Oh, Ông Paul, you make me come so many time twelve year before. My pussy wet think of big banana, killer tongue, Ông Paul. I never forget how good you fuck me. We go upstairs? Then we no wake up Philippines lady?"

I was in a complete daze with visions of yellow pussy dancing in my head. Still, I kept my head and, instead of letting Mrs. Nguyen take me upstairs to the master bedroom, I pulled her into my home office and closed the door behind me. I lifted her tiny body up and sat her on my desk with her bum perched on the edge. I managed to mumble: 

"Keep an eye on the monitor, Bà Nguyen. Just in case the Nanny comes home."

Mrs. Nguyen obviously had done a desk job before, probably for some government officials back in the days of Ngo?inh?iem. She undid the towel, tossed her sandals aside and leaned back, rearranging my paperwork slightly to make a little pillow for her head. Even at 54 years old, her tits didn't pancake on her chest. Mrs. Nguyen sported two nice rounded little hills with brown nipples like flagpoles, erect on the summit. I placed the skinny calves of her legs on my back to get her tight, bare little pussy into the right eating position.

Despite Mrs. Nguyen's shower, the smell of yellow pussy almost overpowered me. I suppose that, as women get older, their cunt juices get more concentrated. Young Vietnamese pussy has a unique smell, like expensive nu?c mam with an estrogen overtone. Mrs. Nguyen's well-aged pussy left behind any pretensions or nuances and made a direct all-out assault on my libido. 

Vietnamese women don't have much bush hair and what constitutes their bush is soft and maybe a centimeter long. You'll never end up with short, curly hairs stuck between your teeth if you stick to licking Vietnamese pussy. Call Vietnamese pussy an acquired taste, like Vietnamese cooking, and as addictive as a good quality street drug. 

The outer pussy lips on Vietnamese women are stiff and tight, great for a finger job. Mrs. Nguyen had them spread already so I skipped the finger work and poked my tongue between her inner lips. Mrs. Nguyen was already wet, as she predicted. I let the exquisite salty taste of pussy roll along my tongue before I drew my tongue up to just below Mrs. Nguyen's clit. Her inner lips formed a tight notch at her clit, pleasuring my tongue simultaneously as I pleasured Mrs. Nguyen. She let out a little sigh to let me know that I found the right spot. I hadn't had my tongue in Mrs. Nguyen's pussy for 12 years but you never forget your first taste of yellow pussy.

I picked up a little licking speed and Mrs. Nguyen's breathing and sighing picked up speed as well. She came quickly with a high-pitched scream, stifled so as not to wake up our other unwanted houseguest. You always wonder about the noises "professionals" make but Mrs. Nguyen was genuine this time. I was in heaven as the river of nu?c mam-flavoured cunt juice flowed over my tongue.

I pulled down my pants and dropped them on the floor. Mrs. Nguyen already had her legs in the air spread wide in anticipation of white banana. She put her legs on my shoulders, grabbed my dick and placed it right on target. I slid it in easily, just as I had twelve years before. Despite her slight stature, Mrs. Nguyen's cunt was big, wide and stretched. I never met a childless woman, white or yellow, with as loose a cunt as Mrs. Nguyen. I always wondered how and where such a tiny woman obtained such oversized genitals? Did she ever work in a donkey show in the Hué bars? I could speculate endlessly.

Mrs. Nguyen began her rehearsed hooker's spiel at the start of the lay: "You go slow OK, Ông Paul? You banana too big for small Vietnamese lady. I no want you hurt me. OOHH! I feel you tear me apart. You start hurt!" Etc. and etc.

Despite the contradiction between Mrs. Nguyen's patter and the reality of her cunt, she still had some points in her favour. Mrs. Nguyen retained those Asian stiff outer pussy lips that gripped the sides of my dick as it went in. The walls of her cunt had gotten a little thinner as she got older, emphasizing the feel of all her interior female parts. Fucking Mrs. Nguyen had its pleasures but I decided to play the hooker game and I stopped halfway in.

I leaned forward and started to caress Mrs. Nguyen on the hips, working my way up her tiny body. Mrs. Nguyen liked a gentle touch when the customer wasn't paying. I could rub Vietnamese skin even if what I was rubbing was an old Saigon whore who usually charged by the hour. Asian women's skin is so much smoother than a white woman's skin, probably because they have less body hair. And Mrs. Nguyen was still soft and silky smooth like Melinda, despite her rough life.

I worked my way up to Mrs. Nguyen's miniature titties, perfect in their scale and firmness. They weren't as firm as Melinda's tits but, hey, Melinda was at work, wasn't she? Slowly, I massaged around the base of each tit, teasing Mrs. Nguyen without touching her nipples. When I was younger, I went too fast for the nipples when I made love. Melinda taught me how Asian women liked to have their tits stroked. Maybe now she would give Melinda some credit for knowing something. I hoped that Mrs. Nguyen appreciated how much I had learned in twelve years. I guess so because she started to wag her head back and forth. Her thin lips parted and she began a long, high-pitch moan, so characteristic of the Asian woman.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH. AAAAIIIIYYYYEEE. Ông Paul no stop, PLEASE? Keep play with tits. Now, Now, Ông Paul. You give me all banana."

The hooker's game was over. I slid my dick in all the way, slamming my brown pubes against her bare yellow pussy lips. I pulled back and slammed again. Mrs. Nguyen brought her legs down around my waist, trying unsuccessfully to keep me all the way in. All the time, I kept her tits in my hands, massaging the whole thing with light pressure on her nipples.

As I banged Mrs. Nguyen increasingly harder, I sensed Mrs. Nguyen had developed a bit of tummy flab over twelve years. Ripples washed like waves up her body in step with the white balls colliding with yellow fanny. Let me be charitable. Mrs. Nguyen didn't have very serious flab, certainly not the kind of flab you'd see on a white woman of the same age.

Despite her loose cunt, Mrs. Nguyen felt great. She was well lubricated and she had a pronounced cervix that rubbed my dick. It was all I could do to keep from coming. I picked up some speed and the rippling waves on her stomach rolled up and down her chest, making her small breasts bob up ad down violently. Mrs. Nguyen's head rolled from side to side, sending some of my papers flying on the floor.

Mrs. Nguyen started to finally tighten up inside and give me some good feel. She was starting to bear down like the pro she was. I grabbed her legs and forced her knees up, bringing her cunt in line. I really started banging her beaver furiously, thrusting my dick as far into yellow pussy as I could. Mrs. Nguyen grimaced as she put her hand over her mouth and started biting a finger to stop from screaming. Was I killing the old lady in Death by Banana?

Wrong. It was just Mrs. Nguyen's usual process of enjoying white banana. She managed to keep her voice down to a wheezy little grunt as she came. In fact, the old lady couldn't stop coming and kept grunting and motioning with her free hand to keep pounding pussy. 

I pulled open a drawer in my desk and offered Mrs. Nguyen a box of Kleenex. She grabbed a handful and stuffed them between her legs. She hopped off my desk as if to show me that she was still young and spy. As she wiped herself off, I swear that she hummed something that sounded like the old Kleenex radio commercial: "Soft, Strong, Pops up too!" That sounded like what was going on in my office this morning.

Mrs. Nguyen looked happy enough with the job I'd done on her, tossing the Kleenex into the wastebasket. She wrapped herself in the towel again, slid her feet into her sandals, gave me a kiss on my chest and said:

"Ông Paul, you give me such good fuck. You too good for Chinese lady. She too lucky she get big, hard banana all time. I no have banana like Ông Paul so many year. But I think Chinese lady good for you. Teach you go slow you fuck me."

With that, she quickly disappeared out the door. I could hear her run downstairs, her rubber sandals flap-flapping across the kitchen and on each stair. I pulled my pants up and put on my T-shirt. I hoped that all that noise didn't wake up Vanessa. I checked the spy camera that I hid in Vanessa's bed room but she was still curled up under the covers, working on her jet-lag. Then I checked the outside cameras just in case Fortunata came home early. Great, the coast seemed to be clear. I went back to the kitchen where a huge pile of breakfast dishes were still on the counter. 

I added Mrs. Nguyen's dishes to the pile and started to load the dishwasher. I didn't notice that Mrs. Nguyen popped up from the basement until she hobbled over to me on high heels. I hoped that the spikes didn't cut the new lino I just put down. Even under her too-heavy makeup, I could see that her cheeks were still red and flushed from the fucking I gave her. She wore a tight, short leather skirt that was much too young for a 54 year-old woman. Mrs. Nguyen resembled nothing more than, well, an old hooker heading out for business.

"I go downtown now. Me have good friend who run bi-da (Vietnamese billiards) parlour. She owe me big money. I get money, maybe I find place. You promise come visit my place and I play you banana."

I didn't ask what kind of a transaction that money came from. The criminal possibilities were endless. I didn't promise anything by way of bananas but I wished the old lady luck as I bent over to kiss her cheek. She wrapped her arms around my neck and planted a big kiss on my lips. She forced her tongue into my mouth, smearing lipstick over my face in the process. As Mrs. Nguyen walked out the door, she was swinging her ass proudly from side to side.

Now, I felt dirty in both the physical and the moral sense. I looked at the breakfast dishes and decided that, between the dishes, and me I was dirtier. I closed the dishwasher and went upstairs to take a shower and clean up before Melinda or Fortunata got back.

(To be continued) 



Mellow Yellow Ch. 26



Ch. 26: The Nanny from Hell gets a Good Licking

Mrs. Nguyen put on her worn-out nightgown and disappeared downstairs to her guestroom. Her nightie was so thin that I could make out the crack of her ass shifting from side to side as she wiggled off down the hall. There I was, left with a messy desk, a sticky dick and a pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen. I tidied up my office and got rid of all the paper littered with shot spots from my desk. As I was on my way to tackle the kitchen, Mrs. Nguyen popped back up from the basement, dressed in a short leather skirt and low-cut blouse. You can take a hooker out of Saigon but she’s still a hooker.

“I go see friend with bi-da parlour. She have money me. Then I no bother you and Chinese lady you. One this thing I say. Ông Paul give Vietnamese lady me good fuck. You best banana in Canada or Vietnam.”

With that, Mrs. Nguyen produced a wet kiss that smeared her garish red lipstick on my cheek. Then she let herself out. I think she said something in her fractured English that approximated “ciao, baby” as she closed the door.

With Mrs. Nguyen out of the way, I surveyed the kitchen. Fortunata, our new nanny, ordered me to wash the breakfast dishes before she got back with the kids. Well, Melinda hired this ugly bitch, not me. Maybe beauty is only skin deep but Fortunata was ugly through and through. OK, badmouthing the new nanny doesn’t get the dishes done. Mrs. Nguyen’s breakfast just added to the huge pile. I was torn between my duty to take care of the mess in the kitchen and my duty to hide evidence that I’d just fooled around with Mrs. Nguyen. 

The sound of water running downstairs resolved my dilemma. I couldn’t rinse dishes while Vanessa, our other houseguest, was having a bath, could I? Besides, dirty dishes aren’t “evidence” of anything much in particular. Lipstick and a sticky dipstick certainly is evidence leading to divorce. I decided that that the dishes could wait but a nice shower was a priority. I’d rather face Fortunata’s wrath than Melinda packing up and leaving with the kids in tow.

I got out of the shower and fumbled for a towel to dry myself. As the steam in the bathroom cleared and the soap in my eyes stopped stinging, I became aware that there was a Filipina squatting on the toilet lid. My other houseguest, Vanessa Reyes a.k.a. the Nanny from Hell, was awake. Vanessa was clad in just an XL T-shirt and she had it pulled up over her knees, hiding her boobs in the space between her knees. By confronting me in the shower, did Vanessa have something else on her mind than brunch? Unfortunately, she did.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my old employer caught naked with just his old nanny in the house. Now isn’t this a compromising situation? Pay careful attention, Paul, because Vanessa’s in control now. You just stand where you are and listen to me or else I’ll claim rape. I’ll tell everyone you tried to pick up where you left off three years ago when you were screwing me behind Melinda’s back. I trust you understand the scandal that would result in.”

Vanessa had me where she wanted me, no doubt about that. I could already see the tone of the headlines in those newspapers at the supermarket checkout: “Middle-aged White Canadian Male Forces Himself on Young Single Mother from Philippines. Again!” Vanessa half-smiled at gaining the upper hand and continued her monologue.

“I’m not the same submissive little Vanessa you thought I was when I was your nanny. No more shy, simpering little Filipina appearing to live only to please her exploitive masters. Your country’s Nanny Program makes us nannies nothing more than indentured labourers and sexual playthings for you Canadian white men. But I got even with you. While you were away on business and probably taking advantage of some other poor Filipina, I was getting it on with Melinda. Yes, you fucked me behind your wife’s back but I fucked your wife behind your back. Your Melinda is AC/DC, I’m a dyke and you’re just a despicable adulterous nannyfucking male.”

I had always suspected that something went on between Melinda and Vanessa. Now it was coming out of Vanessa’s mouth in the way she knew it would hurt me the most. Vanessa had taken advantage of Melinda and had a lesbian encounter with her. I don’t think I was as shocked as I might have been. I must have admired Melinda’s good taste in lovers. They definitely made dykes differently in the Philippines. Your average white lesbian looks like a truck driver in drag. Vanessa was a feminine and graceful Filipina. She still retained that tight, delicious brown body that I poked for a full six months when Melinda was pregnant. I could even call her beautiful, if only she would lighten up and smile a bit. 

Yet, Vanessa had changed more than her “lifestyle” in two years. Something had changed that I found slightly menacing. I wasn’t uncomfortable with Vanessa’s ball-busting attitude. She reminded me of a kinder and gentler Fortunata. No, there was something that had changed about her soft Malay features and it made her look hard. It went beyond the scowl that marred Vanessa’s sensuous lips. Then, it dawned on me that Vanessa had stopped plucking her eyebrows. Her eyebrows had grown back and now were knitted in a simian line, like a yakuza in a crummy Japanese gangster flick. No, it was more like the ape with a zipper in King Kong Meets Godzilla. I was positive now that I was right about this vindictive woman. Vanessa was the Nanny from Hell. There was nothing I could do but stand there and take it.

“Now I’m a Canadian landed immigrant and I want some respect. It’s not going to be anymore ‘I’ll change the little bastard’s diaper right away, Mr. Miskeivitch’ or ‘Yes, you can fuck me. It’s part of my job description, Mr. Miskeivitch.’ I have rights now in this country. You won’t take advantage of me anymore. You won’t exploit me. Do you understand that?”

Vanessa must have spent too much time in Mindinao with the MPLA, absorbing all this exploitation rhetoric. This one-sided conversation was taking quite a nasty turn in my mind. I tried to think of some way to put a better spin on Vanessa’s Canadian employment record, but she was right. “Lesbian/dyke and knocked up by previous employer” wouldn’t look good on any former nanny’s resumé. Vanessa continued her monologue.

“You may have made me pregnant and sent me back to the Philippines, thinking that you were well rid of me. But you’re not. I’m in your house again. I’m going to even up the score by fucking your wife and you won’t be able to stop me. Now, dry yourself off. You look silly, dripping wet like that.”

I started drying off my private parts, only to discover that I was stiff and hard. Vanessa’s self-satisfied smirk betrayed a pride in her own beauty. Vanessa knew she still had it what it takes to turn on either man or woman equally. She wouldn’t have any trouble at all seducing Melinda again.

She reached for my dick and drew me towards her. She started to caress my dick and then ran her nostrils up and down the shaft of my dick, the same way she did when she was my nanny and I was her nannyfucking boss. Vanessa savoured my dick the way I imagine that Fidel Castro savours a fine Havana cigar prior to putting it to his lips. No, that wasn’t quite the way she sniffed my dick. Vanessa admired the smell of my dick the way a wine snob runs the cork under his nose before downing the plonk. As with any obsessive-compulsive personality, Vanessa had to provide a running commentary on what she was doing with my dick.

“Your silly male ego thought I was admiring your manliness when I did this, but I hated you fucking me. You didn’t know that I was really admiring the smell of Melinda’s pussy on your dick. You thought I really desired you but the reality is that I desired the sweet smell and taste of Vietnamese cunt on your dick. After you fucked me, then I tasted myself on you. I knew right away that I wanted to serve up my tasty little pussy to Melinda. MMMMMMM! I can smell Melinda’s pussy here but it’s very faint. Have you been neglecting your wife? Shame on you, Paul. No, that’s not the problem. Melinda’s pussy’s obscured by another woman’s mark on your dick. Hmmmm. What is it that I smell? I’m quite intrigued by this other odour. It’s strong, almost pungent, yet it’s distinctly Vietnamese pussy. This dick has been exploring another Vietnamese woman. Paul, you bastard! You fucked that old Vietnamese lady as soon as my darling Melinda left for work.”

The way Vanessa was reading all the secrets on my sexual rap sheet was really annoying. I felt like a kid caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. Apparently, there was no way to make Vanessa shut up. She stood up, pulling my beard towards her face. She buried her flat nose in the curly, damp hairs of my beard.

“That old woman’s pussy is on your beard but I can’t smell Melinda’s mark anywhere. You ate the old lady’s pussy but not your wife’s? Not that I blame the old lady for wanting you to eat her pussy. You eat pussy like a woman Paul. For a guy, you’re really quite good at it; I’ll give you credit for that. I suppose that, if the old lady wanted good dick and tongue in one package, you can’t blame her for choosing you. Now, don’t you worry a bit. I can see you’re nervous but I won’t let out this little secret as long as you behave yourself. But tell me this; why would you prefer an old woman’s pussy to my young, tasty Melinda?”

Geez, I had to justify myself to a dyke. “It’s like this. Melinda’s a nurse and, well, you’re one too so you know how they can be. She hasn’t let me eat her pussy since she went to this seminar. They taught her that oral sex spreads all kinds of diseases. I haven’t had a muff dive for two years until this morning when Mrs. Nguyen ….. well, you know how it is, Vanessa.”

Vanessa turned uncharacteristically quiet and pensive. What did I say that shut her up? Finally, she looked me straight in the eye. She appeared softer, less bitchy and confrontational. There was something pleading and almost desperate as she poured out what was really on her mind. 

“Can I level with you, Paul. I know exactly what you’re talking about. I haven’t had a woman for months. Just like you, I’m horny and I’m starved for oral. Aren’t we a real pair? Geez, I never thought I’d be sympathetic to a man. But you’ve got the next best thing to a woman’s tongue and you’re about to help me out.”

Vanessa got off the toilet lid and sat on the vanity. She hiked up her T-shirt, pulling it over her head and tossed it off towards the bathroom door. No panties, no bra, just bare-arsed naked Filipina, brown, beautiful and shaped just right. Vanessa parted her legs, exposing her almost hairless clam. As she reached down to her crotch, I thought Vanessa was going to do herself in front of me just for my benefit. Instead, she parted her clam with two fingers, pointing her long fingernails towards the slot with her free hand. Her inner lips were brownish-pink and glistening wet.

“See, Paul. I’ve made it easy for you. Eat my pussy. It’s young and delicious, or so my lady friends tell me. Remember what I said about good behaviour? Now, get that tongue where I need it.”

I got to work, propelled by many happy memories of licking that cunt. Maybe Vanessa was an Asian dyke and a mouthy one at that. Definitely, she’d grown a lot bitchier in three years but her pussy hadn’t changed. In fact, it was delicious, as Vanessa had promised. Vanessa’s taste was a subtle combination of pastisse, prake and a slight touch of durian fruit. I worked my tongue slowly up her slot edging closer to the clit on each stroke. Normally, this would send any woman into ever deepening orgasms but Vanessa somehow could stifle it. She kept saying:

“No, stay below the clit until I say so. No, not yet Paul. I’ll tell you when to lick the clit. No, no, go back down and come up a little lower. That’s it, now give me a few more like that.”

I kept up the light, short licks until, finally, I got the order: “Now, Paul. Bring your tongue slowly up and over my clit.”

I slowly brought my tongue up and over Vanessa’s blood-engorged clit. She gave a few mild sighs and said: “That’s enough, Paul. Stop eating my pussy and let me get off the sink.”

Vanessa was lithe and graceful as she slipped off the sink and landed lightly on her feet. She knelt down on all fours on the bathroom mat and put her ass up in the air. The way her tits hung without dangling assured me that were Asian-woman firm still.

“Now, Paul, you’re going to give me a rimming. Let’s see if you’re as good at ass as you are at pussy. Don’t worry, I’ve just had a shower so I’m clean there too.”

Just like a nurse to be worried about sanitary matters. As for me, I was stunned by Vanessa’s request. Where does a Filipina pick up such language? Not in strait-laced Pinoy Catholic society. And exactly what is a rimming? Vaguely, I remembered that, in one of the “South Park” movies, (you know, the one where the U.S. invades Canada) there was a sketchy description of a rimming by one of the South Park parents offended by Terrence and Philip. Armed with scanty knowledge that I gained from a South Park cartoon, I plunged into my first rim job, on an Asian dyke, no less. I was a total amateur and Vanessa would be comparing me to the best of the Philippines’ gay community. I decided that I would just do whatever came naturally. I’d do to Vanessa whatever I thought might feel good on me. After all, I had an ass just like Vanessa’s.

I parted Vanessa’s brown cheeks and peered into her ass. She didn’t have a hair anywhere on the ass. Her asshole was a slightly darker brown moon hovering just above the maroon circle of her cunt. I did a quick sniff and all I came up with was that she smelled clean. Yes, she was telling the truth about the bath. I stuck out my tongue and played on the high ground around the crack of her ass.

Then I descended lower and lower towards the brown little flower that constituted her asshole. The woman had not one hair on the hole, something that pleased me greatly. Licking lightly but heading lower, I kept tasting and smelling the fancy bath soap Melinda insists on putting out for guests. Vanessa moaned. I could see through the corner of my eye from the full-length mirror on the door that she was giving herself a tit massage. If Vanessa was in narcissus mode, so totally occupied with herself, that gave me an idea. Maybe I could turn the situation around.

I stood up, grabbed Vanessa by the hips, setting her just right for a doggie. I was good and hard, thanks to inhaling sweet Filipina pussy and Vanessa was spread wide open. There was plenty of light in the bathroom. I didn’t have any problem locating my target. I nailed a doggie in an instant, the same way Kurt Browning nailed a quad lutz. Remember how you didn’t know how or where in his routine he was going to do it and then he was rotating four in the air? That’s how quickly I went from rimming to fucking doggie style. And that caught Vanessa’s attention.

“No, don’t Paul. Please don’t do that. Stop, please. Your dick was always too big for me. You always hurt me when you fucked me. How does Melinda stand that big thing?”

I ignored all of Vanessa’s whining. “Now I’m in charge and, if you recall, I’m just a despicable nannyfucker. Scream if you want to. There’s nobody home, remember? Don’t you recall from three years ago that I like a woman who makes a bit of noise when I fuck her.”

I shoved my dick even further into Vanessa. I wasn’t about to give her a chance to wiggle away. Vanessa gasped and grimaced in pain, as the tip of my dick slammed against the end of her cunt. Maybe I was too big for her. Definitely, she was wet and well lubricated from my muffdiving so it had to be incompatible dimensions. Really, it’s not my style to hurt a woman during sex. It’s just not good sexual policy, especially if you want the woman back for seconds. For the Nanny from Hell, I made an exception. I wanted to get back at her for all the hurt she caused me and I wasn’t particularly interested in seconds. So there, I’m still the same sweet, sensitive man of the New Millenium that I always was. I was just seriously pissed off at that moment.

Vanessa was still as tight as I remembered her from years ago. Either she had a good gynecologist when she gave birth to Pablo or her cunt had shrunk from disuse or both. Whatever. I started banging Filipina beaver in the best doggie I ever had. Vanessa’s cunt gripped so tightly that I shot off instantly. I just couldn’t stop myself; Vanessa was giving me such an exquisite feeling. The cream lubricated the moving parts enough that I knew this wouldn’t hurt Vanessa as much as I thought she deserved.

I was about to pull out completely but Vanessa screamed again for me to stop. That gave me an idea, since Vanessa didn’t know that I had come or that I was losing interest.

“Can we make a deal Vanessa? I’ll stop hurting you if you’ll leave Melinda and me alone. Is that a deal?”

For effect, I pushed down on her back and jammed my dick back in as far as I could without seriously foreshortening it. Vanessa screamed again and gasped out quietly: 

“OK, you’ve got a deal. Just get that awful thing out of me and let me go.”

I pulled out slowly just to emphasize who was boss now. When the tip of my still-hard dick popped out, Vanessa wasted no time getting up, putting on her T-shirt and running down to take another bath. I suppose I should have tried to settle the details of our little deal but I really wasn’t worried. Asian women can have just as many flaws as white bitches but they always keep their word. It’s a little matter called “honour”.



Mellow Yellow Ch. 27



Ch. 27: Melinda Tran discovers that voyeurs are made, not born

Thanks to SlickTony for planting an idea that ultimately led to this story.

I'm a voyeur and so is my wife Melinda. We're an interracial couple; I'm second-generation Polish, quite white. Melinda is half-Vietnamese and half-Chinese, the perfect combination for an Asian woman. Shame on you if you think a white guy being in love with a beautiful Asian woman and vice versa makes us perverts. Similarly, neither Melinda nor I think that our voyeurism is any way bent. We believe that watching other people getting it on is a natural way of keeping an eye on the competition, ensuring that we aren't missing out on any new technology in the wonderful world of screwing.

I wasn't born a voyeur; at least I don't think I was. My first voyeuristic experience occurred when I was about two years old. In the middle of the night, I had to announce to my parents that I went "potty" all by myself. Unfortunately, Mom and Dad seemed more interested in what they were doing under the blankets than in my modest accomplishments in the can. Something secret was going on that caused the bedclothes to rise and fall so rhythmically. Mom was sighing and Dad was grunting in rhythm, so all this wasn't unconnected. Curious at these adult secrets, I had my first erection, a perfect little baby boner.

When I was twelve, my older sister was babysitting me while Mom and Dad were playing canasta with the neighbours. Sis assumed I was upstairs working on my science project, which I was. Unfortunately for her, my science project consisted of a periscope made from construction cardboard and two mirrors from K-Mart's cosmetic counter. I sneaked part way down the stairs and got a clear shot of the boyfriend boinking my sister on the living room couch. Up periscope and up pecker. Ever since then, I've been placing science in the service of my growing voyeurism. My fertile imagination made me shoot off in my pants, crouched there on the stairs. I pretended that it was my own twelve-year old pecker, not the boyfriend's thick dick thrusting deep into my sister's beaver. That's about as close as I ever got to incest.

I noticed that, when I was living in a less-than-soundproof university dorm, I got as horny listening to a couple in the next room getting it on as when I was fucking my own current squeeze. There's just something about squeaking bed noises accompanied by groans and sighs that appeals to me. As if I haven't confirmed by now that I'm a voyeur, here's the clincher. My favourite movie of all time is Hitchcock's "Rear Window", his exercise in voyeurism. Catch it sometime on the late movies and see if it doesn't appeal to you.

But enough about me. How does a shy Vietnamese woman, mother of four, registered nurse and pillar of the community, etc., who won't talk dirty to her own husband, start peeking along with her husband? Fortunately, the operative word here is "woman". A woman, even an Asian woman, will discuss endlessly with another woman sexual matters that she wouldn't think of bring up with her husband. Under the circumstances, it's best to let Melinda tell the story in her own words in an e-mail she sent to her best girlfriend. You see, I know all you voyeurs just love to peek at other peoples' mail.

To:  hksexclinic@xxxxxxxxxxxx

From:  zealousyellow@xxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Sui-Beng:

I deeply apologize for laying (if you'll pardon the expression) another one of my sexual problems at your feet. I realize that I shouldn't be bothering you with my feminine issues and asking you for psychiatric help for free. But I'm desperate for your advice on the feelings I'm having. Something happened to me that has changed again the way I view my sexuality.

Do you remember when I had a lesbian affair with our nanny, Vanessa? I was so shaken at the time to discover that I'm bisexual. It was such a cultural shock to discover that part of me might be homosexual. As you know, it's forbidden in Socialist Vietnam to even discuss the subject. Gay people only exist in the decadent west, we were told. I thought I became a pervert with just one taste of another woman's genitalia. Could I still love Paul and love Vanessa at the same time? I wonder why was it necessary to come to a foreign country to discover my true sexuality.

Have you ever tried a woman, Sui-Beng? Of course not. That's why I admire my friend so much. You've always been so certain of your sexual identity that you wouldn't consider becoming intimate with another woman. The closest you've ever come to a sexual crisis was when you feared being sacked for seducing one of your patients. Like a true Chinese, you turned this crisis into an opportunity and began a second career as an authority on sexual therapy applied to Caucasian males.

I've had another sexual crisis in my life. I'm sure that others would think that I'm becoming a complete deviant. This time I've dealt with it myself, without your help. If I tell you what happened, can you, at the very least, tell me if I'm coping with it adequately? Can you tell me if I'm correct that I'm not a pervert but a normal, respectable mother, wife and health care professional?

My previous e-mail related to you that Vanessa, my former nanny from the Philippines and with whom I had an affair, is staying at our house while she gets established in Canada. I also told you that my worst enemy, Mrs. Nguyen, showed up on our doorstep at the same time. I hate that woman. She's a shameless sexual predator, she is, that bitch. She even bedded my Paul before we met. Besides, I needed another houseguest like I needed a second anus while I was trying to reestablish my relationship with Vanessa.

The first night with our guests was a complete disaster. Not only did I not get to talk privately with Vanessa but I had to put up with one of Paul's sexual fantasies (the rape fantasy, if you must ask) when I really wasn't in the mood. The next day, I had to work but I didn't mind leaving Paul alone with Vanessa. I knew her real nature and that she wouldn't think of touching a man. Plus, she would keep an eye on Mrs. Nguyen so she wouldn't steal my man or anything else in the house that she could lay her hands on.

My day turned out to be a total disaster. There was an emergency in the operating room with a patient hemorrhaging so I had to leave my desk and fill in at a nursing station. I haven't worked with patients for over a year. I had forgotten how demanding they can be and how ingeniously they compete for the duty-nurse's attention. As you put it, you "work with white willies all day" and they have just one demand.

When I finally got home, late, my house was in total chaos. The children were running wild in the family room, aided and abetted by Paul. Vanessa and Mrs. Nguyen were deep in conversation in the living room, ignoring the tempest around them. Our new nanny, Fortunata was sitting sullenly in the kitchen surrounded by dirty dishes. She got up and stormed out of the house, waving her finger at me and saying that she was hired to take care of children, not to wash dishes in the psychiatric ward, or words to that effect.

I loaded up the dishwasher with as many dishes as I could and cleaned the kitchen messes. I got all the pots and dishes cleaned. After a shower, I changed into a pantsuit that would surely entice Vanessa. The finishing touch was the Givenchy perfume that Paul gets me every Christmas. Vanessa always adored that scent. I intended to get close to my lesbian lover but I also wanted her to help me make dinner. I remember when she was our live-in nanny, how she was so helpful while we were working, standing so close to me, breathing in the scent of perfume on my neck. I remember how her breath in return on my neck awoke my latent bisexuality. Well, her seduction was successful and now it was my turn to seduce her.

I walked into the family room in as alluring a manner as only an Asian woman can accomplish. In my most coquettish way, I asked Vanessa to give me a hand with dinner. Can you imagine she refused me? My Filipina lover, for whom I moved the immovable, Canadian immigration agents, refused to help me or provide company in the kitchen. She wanted to help Paul and Mrs. Nguyen with the children. I think it was at that moment when I realized that it was all over between Vanessa and me.

As for the kids, they were totally fascinated with "Auntie Hièp". Mrs. Nguyen was entertaining the children with Vietnamese folk tales, the kind that the peasants tell. I wouldn't have believed it but that old whore has a maternal instinct completely hidden beneath those layers of makeup.

I made supper without any enthusiasm at all. Silently, we ate the worst meal that I ever cooked. The rice was sticky, the vegetables were soggy, the chicken looked as if an axe-murderer or a psychopath chopped it up and the green papaya salad was chunky. I was ready to pounce on anyone who complained. My mood became even worse when I leaned over to pick up Cadeo's chopstick and I spotted Vanessa and Mrs. Nguyen playing footsie under the table. And here I though Mrs. Nguyen's smirk was due to my failure with the dinner.

As I loaded up the dishwasher for the last time, I was struck by how quiet the house became. I assumed that by now the children were in bed so that accounted for the lack of sound of Game Boys and giggles. What were the adults doing? I strained to hear Mrs. Nguyen's too-loud fractured English but there was nothing. And what was Paul up to? I went to the family room but it was empty. I turned out all the lights in the living room and hallway and spotted a flicker of light coming out of Paul's office that he keeps in the house. Was he messing around with Mrs. Nguyen in there?

Just in case there was something going on, I walked barefoot to his office. We Vietnamese are very skilled, almost catlike, in the dark, as the American soldiers found out. The well-oiled door opened without a sound. Sometimes all the work Paul does to keep the house in shape works out to his disadvantage. That door represented the portal to a new dimension in sexual experience for me. From that moment on, I became a new sexual creature, Mei-Ling the voyeur.

My eyes adjusted to the dark so I could see that the only light came from the screen of the security monitor. The flickering screen silhouetted Paul's head. Something was going on but I wasn't prepared for what I saw on the TV screen. It was Vanessa's face and she was talking to someone. Paul had rigged up a security camera in Vanessa's bedroom. The bastard; he was spying on Vanessa. My Paul has a perversion and its name is voyeurism.

I turned my attention to the TV screen that Paul found so fascinating. Vanessa's face became more animated. Paul touched a control and the camera panned back. Vanessa was talking to Mrs. Nguyen and they were both in the same bedroom! Vanessa pleaded with Mrs. Nguyen, trying to convince the older woman of something. Even though there was no sound to the picture, I could tell that Mrs. Nguyen faked a shy refusal, playing the virgin she wasn't. That was the only time I ever saw the old whore look shy.

Vanessa continued to plead her case. Finally, Mrs. Nguyen gave in. Vanessa was the aggressor, undressing Mrs. Nguyen until the emaciated little witch was stark naked. I have seen more naked white women than naked Asian women, thanks to those dirty magazines that Paul brings home occasionally. In fact, other than Vanessa, I don't think I've ever seen a naked Asian woman. As you know, Sui-Beng, universities in Asia aren't big on women's sports. I never had any locker room peeks at naked Vietnamese women. Even my own mother never undressed in front of me. So, I was surprised at how skinny Mrs. Nguyen looked in comparison to these voluptuous white women in Paul's magazines. Given her age, I was expecting that she had saggy breasts but she had nothing. Nada. Flat. Perhaps I'm not particularly busty but you'd never mistake me for a boy. I glanced down her bony body. Mrs. Nguyen had so little pubic hair that you could clearly see her tiny outer labia. It might have been a toddler's crotch except for its shiny wetness, obvious even on a TV screen.

Paul tilted his head and covered up the hideous sight of the old lady. Vanessa was undressing quickly, as if she thought Mrs. Nguyen would change her mind. What a silly girl! I knew in my heart that it was Mrs. Nguyen who was in charge, manipulating Vanessa with her shy little girl act. Vanessa was the prey entangled in the spider's web. The spider was ready to eat her next victim.

Vanessa grabbed Mrs. Nguyen's arm, pulling her onto the bed. Paul touched another control to keep the women in view. I was mortified that Vanessa applied the same caresses, the same techniques for sexual stimulation that she had applied on me. I must have been just another body to her. There was no sound, but I could easily imagine that Mrs. Nguyen was faking noises the same way she did for her male customers.

Vanessa put her hand on Mrs. Nguyen's genitals and spread her labia apart. It was like a cue for Mrs. Nguyen to run her crooked witch's fingers up and down Vanessa's tight labia minora. The two women played with each other for a few minutes, their mouths in open circles and their faces contorted by ecstasy. Vanessa mounted Mrs. Nguyen and they began the most intimate kind of woman-to-woman kiss.

The two women rolled around the bed, each black head planted firmly between the other's thighs. Jealousy welled up from within me. That should have been Vanessa's tongue parting my labia, stimulating my clitoris as only a woman knows how. As jealous as I was at Mrs. Nguyen trapping Vanessa, I was overcome with another emotion, raw horny lust. I wanted so much to play with myself but I didn't want to make any noise. That would have given away the game to Paul. Instead I rubbed my crotch through my pantsuit. My juices had soaked through. I knew that I would be making a trip to the dry cleaners the next day.

As the two women writhed in mutual cunnilingus, something remarkable happened. I saw Paul reach down into his lap. It appeared as if he was fumbling around in his lap for something. My initial thought was that Paul wasn't sticking to his diet and sneaked a sandwich into his office. I moved along the wall so I could get a better look at what he was up to. Sui-Beng, I was both shocked and fascinated by what I saw. Paul was tumescent! He had undone his pants and pulled out his huge, erect thing. He was playing with himself while he was watching the lesbian activity on the monitor.

Sui-Beng, have you ever seen a man masturbate? How silly of me to even ask. I'm sure that autoeroticism is one of the many tools your clinic uses to get white male parts into gear again. Well, I never have. I mean, I've played with Paul's penis and even done the odd handjob myself on him. It's just that he's much too shy to do THAT in front of me. The women making love already aroused me but, Sui-Beng, the forbidden fruit of watching the thing that men do in secret really did the trick for me. As I moved sideways, I felt my own liquids sticking my panties to my pubic hairs.

Paul stroked his penis so gently and sensually with his hand. It turned me on but it was educational as well. Sui-Beng, I've been doing the handjob wrong ever since Paul and I've been together. I now realize that I've been too rough with my hands. No wonder that Paul is in such a hurry to get to the blowjob. I guess that it's the same way with women. Trust me on this one, Sui-Beng. The best tongue that you can have sliding up your genitalia is another woman's tongue.

Paul's penis gleamed and beckoned to me to take it in my hand. I wanted so much to take his shaft in my hand, caress its length, run my fingers over the ridges of veins up to its ridge at the top. I wanted it in my mouth so that I could run my tongue up and over the circumcised tip. Sui-Beng, what can I say? I was more sexually aroused than I ever was since I married Paul and I craved oral sex. NOW!

Why didn't I yield to my impulse? I sensed that Paul was enjoying his pornographic show because the two women he was watching didn't know that they were being watched. Paul's video monitor was better than any "reality show" on television. I had discovered the secret of voyeurism. That was why I was seriously horny at that moment. Paul didn't know I was watching him play with himself while watching the two women. In turn, the two women didn't know that Paul and I were watching them have sex. My first voyeur show was two for the price of one.

Despite being overwhelmed by the doubled intensity of this sexual experience, I knew that I must not give in to my impulses and touch the object of my admiration. I couldn't let Paul know I was there. That would break the spell of the experience for both of us. It would not only disrupt Paul's pleasure but he would be so ashamed that I had caught him playing with himself. Yes, Sui-Beng, even white people hate to lose face.

So, I slowly left the room trying to be even more careful than when I entered to not make any sound. Yet, I was still horny from what I had seen. I needed his penis inside me more than ever as I stood by the door listening to what went on. I didn't hear any noises that would be evidence of masturbation emanating from Paul's office. If he was really seriously playing with himself, I would hear his elbow hitting the armrests, wouldn't I? I learned another one of the rules of a voyeur from Paul. Part of the fun in watching is to keep up the level of intensity without falling into orgasm. I reached into my panties and put my finger between my lips. I was flowing from my vagina as strongly as if I were menstruating. 

Another thing I learned that night was that the imagination is the most important tool in voyeurism. Paul's breathing and the sound of movement of his swivel chair painted my mind with pictures of him stroking his own penis. My imagination took flight with mental pictures of the two women probably pleasuring each other with their tongues. How long since I had enjoyed Vanessa's embrace and her taste. How long since I had Paul's tongue sliding between my inner lips, raising me to the brink of orgasm but not quite. White guys are quite remarkable at how they take a woman to the edge and then, with a slight pause, they take you to an edge even higher up the cliff. What am I telling you? You have Charles, after all.

My finger was mimicking a tongue as best I could when my reverie was broken by the sound of Paul pushing back his chair. He was getting up! I knew that I mustn't be discovered standing at the door eavesdropping or worse. The clandestine TV show had ended. I ran upstairs as quietly as I could, thankful for the thick carpet on the stairs that I insisted on when we redecorated. I hurriedly undressed, trying to fold my clothes as best I could in the dark. I climbed into the bed, and arranged myself in the most sexy pose I could accomplish. If I lost Vanessa to Mrs. Nguyen, I was now going to retake Paul

When Paul entered the bedroom, he headed straight to the ensuite, adding to my frustration. Why wasn't my husband taking care of my needs right away? As if to answer my question, I heard the sound of loud flatulence behind the bathroom door, accompanied by Paul urinating as noisily as he could.

There was nothing I could do but continue playing with my genitals ever so gently to keep up my interest without proceeding completely to orgasm. Sui-Beng, I have never been so wet and aroused. Finally, Paul entered, carelessly tossing his clothes on the chair. He was about to put on pajamas when I called out: "No Paul. I need you right now. I want you naked and I want you to take care of me." 

Even in the dark, I could tell that he had a grin a km. wide. Before Paul could pull the covers over himself, I was all over him. He must have thought I had gone wild, the way I was aggressively taking charge. I must have kissed every square centimeter of his tall, hairy body. If Paul gets me cold, after a day of work and cooking supper, he has to extend the amount of foreplay, working up my interest with his kisses and caresses, stimulating my breasts. Not tonight. My "peeking" experience at had put me far down the road to orgasm and the other kind of "peaking".




Mellow Yellow Ch. 27



My kisses brought me face-to-face with his penis. I reached out and touched his manhood, putting into play the lessons I learned in the dark in Paul's office. Gently, the same way Paul played with himself, I stroked his member along its length, from his pubic hairs to its tip. I enjoy the sensation of swollen veins of his penis lying below the smooth skin, whether it's in my hand or in my vagina. Smell is important as taste to oral sex, as I learned from my experience with Vanessa. Vanessa taught me to love the scent of my own secretions on Paul. In my elevated state of arousal, the scent of a woman on Paul seemed stronger than ever. Was it the estrogen coursing through my body or didn't he take a shower today?

Then, I did the one thing that Paul couldn't do for himself. I placed the tip of Paul's penis in my mouth. To tell you the truth, I put his penis as far into my mouth as I could without triggering my gag reflex. Then I slowly pulled his sex out and back in again, letting my lips pleasure in turn that which my fingers had just caressed.

I have read that television is bad for you because it creates hitherto unknown needs and impossible expectations in the audience. Paul's little television show created in me the need for oral sex. I am ashamed to admit to a renowned sex therapist but I haven't had Paul's tongue between my thighs for two years because of a lecture on female sexual health I attended. Besides, I had Vanessa's tongue a month before the lecture and a woman's the best. But Vanessa's tongue was elsewhere tonight and I needed Paul's tongue where it counts. It wasn't unreasonable for me to request oral sex after a two-year hiatus, was it? 

Paul gasped with surprise as I straddled his chest almost sat on his face. I didn't say anything because that would be admitting that I had been wrong denying Paul the pleasure of tasting my femininity. I let his fingers spread me apart and felt his warm tongue penetrate my sex. To return the pleasure, I took Paul's member into my mouth, as much as I could fit in. I let my tongue caress his glans ever so gently.

We locked our arms around each other and rolled around in a 69 embrace the same way Vanessa and Mrs. Nguyen rolled around in our guest room. Oral sex was just as good as I remembered. And Paul hadn't forgotten a thing either. I wanted to revel in the gentle stimulation that a tongue provides to a woman's clitoris but I was far too aroused by what I had seen. I fell off the sexual cliff that I had been climbing for an hour. I exploded into orgasm, spitting out Paul's penis with an ecstatic gasp. This orgasm seemed to go on for eternity, making me alternately scream in agony or laugh uncontrollably.

I thought this orgasm would finish me for the night. Thinking that some cuddling and postplay would be nice, I lay down beside Paul. However, the restless burning feeling between my thighs wouldn't quit. I don't think it helped that I analyzed my evening's sexual experiences from when I entered Paul's office to when Paul's tongue entered my genitals. I ran my hand over the hair on his chest and along his stomach. Paul was still erect! If I wasn't finished and Paul wasn't finished, the obvious solution was what came naturally.

I squatted over Paul, spreading my labia to accommodate his large swollen member. With difficulty because of his size and my tightness, I forced myself apart and pushed myself down on his organ. I know, Sui-Beng that you have confided in me that you find Charles' member intimidating in size until the moment he enters you. Sex with Paul is like that as well. Sometimes I tremble that I will never accommodate his girth and length within me. The trick with such a large penis, as I'm sure you discovered, is to allow the beautiful thing to enter you slowly so that your internal muscles expand around it. 

Since Paul is circumcised, he has this ridge at the end of his penis that I can rub over the most sensitive parts inside my vagina when I'm on top. I think I was tighter than usual inside because of the long buildup to coitus. I could feel that penis ridge progress up my vagina; I felt every vein on his shaft push the opening of my vagina apart. It was so slow and exquisite but then, I was in charge tonight.

When I had just enough of Paul's penis inside, I thrust my pelvis forward to get his ridge rubbing that delicious itchy place deep within me, up near the top of the vagina. Is that my G-spot, Sui-Beng? You know so much more about sexual matters than I do. My lower body roll got whatever the spot is called just right. I started rubbing the spot slowly and then a little faster. It felt so stimulating that I abandoned all caution, rubbing his tip right where I needed it, as fast as I needed it. Then that tingling ache, as if I was about to urinate, began in the area of my uterus. That's the feeling I get when I am building towards a prolonged, intense orgasm.

When the orgasm came, I screamed in pain and ecstasy as my insides tightened up, electric shocks coursed through my limbs and my head swam in a sea of colours. I didn't care who heard me or who I might wake up. I don't think I've had one of that intensity for years. But then, I've never been as turned on as I was from watching Vanessa and Mrs. Nguyen have sex. I guess that Paul just had to flip the switch to make the colours come on for me.

When the orgasm was over, I could tell from his placid expression that Paul hadn't had his yet. Has Charles ever outlasted you, Sui-Beng? The only time that Paul ever outlasted me was years ago when he had been out all evening carousing with his Polish friends and came home smelling of too much vodka. That night, he must have ground on me for an hour and a half before he had his orgasm, groaned and collapsed on me from exhaustion. He wasn't drunk tonight, so I don't know why I couldn't make him come to orgasm. Was I losing my skills?

Determined to make Paul come, I ground on him and tightened my inner muscles around his penis. I learned how to do that from your therapist's training manual (p. 67 – tighten your sphincter muscles as if you are trying to refrain from urinating. The patient will inevitably come to orgasm). It took what seemed to be hours for Paul to finally come. When he came, I don't think he enjoyed himself as much as I did. He grimaced a little and ejaculated a tiny amount of sperm. I was so sore, I think I rubbed my vagina dry from all the grinding and clinching.

Paul rolled over and was quickly asleep just like a man. I was perspiring, exhausted but strangely satisfied as never before in my life. Yes, I was satisfied but I was also excited at embarking on a new sexual journey. The Mei-Ling who went to sleep that night was not the same Mei-Ling as she was in the morning. I still can't believe it but I went to sleep planning to invite Hanna Le and Ted Kowalski to stay overnight in our guest bedroom. Voyeurs can be so hospitable.

Now, let's discuss my new sexual experience, Sui-Beng. Help me resolve my dilemma. I can't stress enough how watching others engaging in sexual activity aroused me. Is this healthy mentally? Am I a pervert, watching two women having lesbian sex? Is that more or less perverted than watching my own husband having a wank? Have I merely exchanged bisexuality for a new perversion? I always thought that voyeurism was practiced exclusively by dirty old white men peeking up skirts or down blouses. I never thought that a respectable mother of four and health care professional such as I could be so fascinated by watching. 

On the other hand, can anything that resulted in such great sex be immoral or bad for a relationship? Is watching others in my own home any different from your work, observing your professional sex therapists in practice and then winning awards in scholarly journals by writing about it? Has your work lifted voyeurism from the milieu old men in trench coats peeping through windows into scientific respectability? Tell me honestly. Do the things you have watched "on the job" sexually arouse you? Charles must be so lucky when you come home after a "hard" day's work at the office!

Tran Mei-Ling

Paul's Epilogue

And that's how my problems with my two unwanted houseguests solved themselves, as so many problems seem to do. Vanessa kept her word and never bothered Melinda as long as she stayed in our house. However, she immediately got her tongue into the nearest available Vietnamese pussy, Mrs. Nguyen. Guess what? The two of them clicked and spent the next month in my basement performing on camera, unbeknownst to them. I hooked up my VCR and I have lots of tapes of every possible thing that one woman can do to another. I never knew that lesbians were so ingenious.

Not only did the problems of the two women solve themselves but also I got my tongue into Melinda's pussy after two years of muff-diving drought. Melinda's renewed interest in oral sex that night must have been triggered by watching the two women on the TV monitor. Yeah, I knew she was there all along. Melinda was quiet but she forgot about her perfume. Givenchy, remember? I waved the stick at her to divert her interests from Vanessa to me. OK, so there's a little bit of the flasher in me as well as the voyeur.

Since we both developed a mutual interest in voyeurism, I had to find a way to "out" Melinda in a face-saving kind of way. Vietnamese women are so reluctant to talk about sex. To tell you the truth, I like it that way. When it comes to sex, I prefer to be a doer, not a talker. Our VCR solved the problem of how to get Melinda to admit she liked to watch. Melinda noticed it missing so I admitted that I had a camera rigged up in the basement bedrooms, uh, strictly for security purposes of course. My excuse was that Melinda never trusted Mrs. Nguyen. Didn't she want me to keep an eye on our guests so that Mrs. Nguyen didn't help herself to "five-finger discounts"? Melinda was all too eager to help out with an obvious security problem. She sat right by my side in my office every night they went to bed together. She even edited a couple of the tapes, adding a feminine touch to our homemade pornography. Right now, Melinda's busy doing up a list of couples to invite for a stay.

After a month of living with Melinda and me, Vanessa Reyes got a job and an apartment. Mrs. Nguyen moved in with Vanessa and Pablo. They make a great family unit. Mrs. Nguyen provides Vanessa's kids with an elder figure, so necessary in an Asian household. She baby-sits the kids, while Vanessa works. Like Melinda, I never knew Mrs. Nguyen had the maternal instinct in her. In return, Vanessa and her kids give Mrs. Nguyen her first real family in her life and the security she needs. By the way, "kids", in the plural, is not a misprint. Eight months after moving out of our house, Vanessa gave birth to a baby girl, Pauline. I was the godfather at Pauline's baptism. Well, maybe my status was a little higher status than godfather.

Right now, they're waiting to see how Parliament's same-sex marriage bill turns out. Since Mrs. Nguyen is a Canadian citizen, that would solve Vanessa's problems with immigration status. I look in on them every so often, to make sure that Mrs. Nguyen is taking care of Vanessa's and my children. I'm no absentee father, even if Vanessa is a dyke mother. Besides, even though she's getting on in years, sometimes Mrs. Nguyen is in the mood for a bit of white dick.

I treasure those tapes I made of the two women eating each other's pussy. Any time I get a craving for a bedtime snack of Vietnamese pussy, I pop a tape in the bedroom VCR. If I'm quick, I can beat Melinda's hand going down between her legs. These tapes are so effective turning on Melinda that I'm thinking of offering them for sale. They'd be great for any guy whose woman is denying him a taste of pussy. They're just as effective for voyeur couples like us. What do you think would be a reasonable price? $24.95 Canadian? VHS or DVD?