Saturday, 19 August 2006
11:17pm
Clarke Quay
I had actually not wanted to attend the class reunion.
Why?
From what I can observe, those who have done well and are confident of themselves will have no qualms about updating others about what they’ve been doing with their lives. I looked at the group assembled that evening. There were only 17 of us out of a class of 41.
Noticeably absent were the duds and failures of school days - the samsengs, the rockers, the relax one corner types. Of those present, the ones with humbler achievements tended to grow quiet after catch-up conversations revealed where each other stood in a social-economic pecking order.
We may all have worn the same school uniform. But our life stories are now all different.
I withdrew after a while, finding no place amongst my peers who are now accountants, an LTC in the SAF, bankers, pharmacists, regional sales directors and whatnot. My ex-classmates are pretty nice, don’t get me wrong. We were often chatting like the years that passed did not exist. But there is, and perhaps will always be, an invisible divide between those who are more able and/or fortunate, and those who aren’t.
Darren was happily talking about his adventures in the US during his MBA days, a few ladies listening to him with rapt attention. I’m glad he got his groove back. In this regard, I have no regrets dragging him along for this reunion.
We had broken up into smaller groups. I excused myself from the bunch who were comfortably quiet and got up from my seat. I needed another beer. While passing behind Darren’s group, I cast my eyes on Kailing.
She had pushed herself away from the table, and this afforded me a view of her from top to toe. 165cm-ish, probably in the low 40kg range. Looks like she works out. Her skin had a healthy tanned glow. Kailing’s hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, which very much suited the lilac summer dress she wore. The low scooped neckline drew eyes to an enticing cleavage, formed by breasts that were more than generously given to her by nature. Her legs were crossed demurely, emphasising how toned they were. A pair of sandals from Thailand, one of which dangled off a manicured foot, completed her beach goddess look.
She caught me looking, and smiled.
With nothing to lose, I sat down next to her.
The catching up conversation was inconsequential: I had fucked up my ‘O’ Levels, went to a private school, did NS, went overseas, became a corporate slave and was now freelancing (a term I used to describe my job in Manticore). She did well for her ‘O’ Levels, went to JC, did economics in university, and was a trader in oil and gas.
I never did get my beer, but we eventually found ourselves in her car. She’d had a few rounds of booze, and was open to suggestion. I had offered to drive her home, but we ended up frenching each other very aggressively in her BMW. I lowered both front driver and passenger seats, and guided her to the backseat.
I took my time, exploring her mouth with my tongue as I ran my fingers through her hair, down her arms and along her legs. She shivered in anticipation as I brought both straps of her summer dress down. The neckline retreated to reveal a strapless bra containing her generous assets. My fingers skimmed over the smooth skin of the top of her breasts. She didn’t protest as I reached behind her back for her bra clasp. A trick I leant was how to undo a bra with one hand. Kailing gasped in surprise as her bra was undone, but didn’t fall off as expected because I managed to hold onto both ends of the clasp.
Moving my head towards her chest, I planted little kisses along the top edge of her bra cup. I slowly released both ends of the clasp, revealing her cute, hardened nipples that were yearning to be touched.
Kailing sighed sweetly as I closed my lips over a nipple and gave it the attention it deserved. My hands encircled both breasts, and I alternated my nipple licking from one breast to the other. She put her arms around my head, and sighed contentedly again.
My hand roamed under her skirt, and cupped a firm ass cheek. She wore the skimpiest of panties, which I leant how to remove with one hand in a swift motion. Our eyes locked as I drew the little lace panty down her legs. I held it up to her, both our eyes drawn to the wet spot in the fabric. It was animalistic. We immediately locked in an embrace, my head headed down her neck, lower to give each nipple a loving suck, and then I reached her pussy that was shaved - landing strip style.
Thanks to all for the comments and support!
This is actually my first attempt at writing any story of length.
There is an Elise. One who I will get to eventually.
I’m still trying to figure out how the main character should discipline Adeline.
So the little episode in Kailing’s car is to stall for time while I think of ideas.
Nothing too outlandish though…
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Ntspannar
Haha yes. Well I understand and can feel the narrator has issues but I would think he could be a nice bastard instead of just being a bastard? Lol just my take. Thank you though for being sporting enough to accept feedback
Heh heh, yes, a conflicted character is easier to identify and empathise with. We are all like that to a certain extent. Someone absolutely evil is best left as the super villain, not the main character.
I don’t quite know how this whole story will pan out. There will be moments you’ll dislike what the main character does, and perhaps later his actions explained or justified.
He’s a human, a mixture of good and bad.
Sunday, 20 August 2006
2:11am
Kailing’s BMW in a multi storey carpark around Clarke Quay
Kailing lay across the backseat of her car, the front of her summer dress pulled down and the bottom now bunched around her hips. She put up no resistance as I manouvered myself between her legs. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she yielded her sex to me. My hands trailed down from her neck, then gently cupped her boobs as I teased her nipples with my thumbs. They then ran down her sides, over her hips, and finally rested on Kailing’s pubic mound.
I planted tiny kisses at both her inner thighs, starting from her knees and working inwards to her pussy. I gazed at Kailing’s most secret of places, marvelling at how moist she was, how puffy her vulva was with arousal, how her delicate inner lips were already parted and waiting to receive an intimate visitor.
The scent of an excited woman is addictive, and I wasted no time isolating her clitoris and giving it gentle flicks with my tongue. Sometimes the tried and tested methods of pussy pleasuring do not fail: using the tip of your tongue to spell out the alphabet from A to Z on a clit. The musky aroma of her vagina drove me almost insane, and I alternated between spelling and inserting my tongue as deep as I could into her.
“Stop! Stop stop stop stop…” panted Kailing.
I raised my head from between her legs, afraid that I’d done something wrong.
“I - I’m going to orgasm, but I really want you to-” She paused. “…To be inside me.”
I needed no encouragement as I virtually tore off my clothes.
I shuffled into position and stroked Kailing’s erect clit with the head of my dick. I teased her mercilessly, rubbing her love button with my shaft and then just barely inserting the cockhead into her eager sex. Kailing bit her lower lip in need and frustration.
“I want you to fuck me,” I stated.
She looked confused, but then nearly leapt on me as I settled down on the backseat. Kailing straddled me, her small hands grasping my cock and positioning it at her tight entrance.
I could feel the heat of her sex around the head of my penis. And at that moment, time slowed. I remembered, all those years ago - as a fat, pimply, mop-headed teenager - that Kailing was as unattainable as a mint condition Superman Issue #1 copy.
And now there we were, my dick half-buried in her while I helped myself to her gorgeous breasts. Life’s funny. And in this case, in a damned good way!
We both let loose loud moans as Kailing dropped her entire bodyweight down, impaling herself on my shaft. She basically tried to smother the life out of me by hugging my head to her bosom.
Deepest thanks to those who upped my points, a kind gesture indeed.
Continuing on with the story…
Sunday, 20 August 2006
2:40am
Kailing’s BMW in a multi storey carpark around Clarke Quay
Kailing was rocking her hips back and forth quite forcefully, literally grinding her pubic bone against mine while I was buried in her to the hilt. It was actually quite painful, but the pain served to keep me rock-hard and delay my own orgasm.
I was seriously manhandling her bosoms, but the whole rawness of the sex, and the fact that we were in a carpark, brought out something primal in us.
But the inevitable… came.
“Kailing” I panted, “Gonna cum. Gotta come out now.”
She kept her rocking motion.
“Really. Gonna cum. Inside you. Out. Now.” I said between gasps, and very reluctantly tried to lift her off my dick.
“NO!” she yelped, and I felt her fingers grip my hair and almost pull them off my scalp. From frantic rocking, she slowed to deep long thrusts, lifting herself away until my cockhead could almost slip out.
“Out.” I squeaked and tried to withdraw, emergency lights dancing in a small rational part of my brain.
“NO! PILL! PILL!” she said with urgency as I felt her pussy tighten in impending climax.
Thank god, Kailing was taking birth control pills. The red lights flashed to green, and I released spurt after spurt of cum deep into one of the prettiest girls of my secondary school days.
A series of deep moans and sharp gasps came from Kailing as the waves of her climax swept through her body. She then collapsed on me in a post-orgasmic bliss. I savoured the warmth of her body against mine, the feeling of still being held snugly in her depths.
She gingerly clambered off me, my spunk leaking out of her as she pulled her dress back into position. We were quiet as we got ourselves fixed and adjusted back into a presentable condition.
The idealistic puppy-dog side of me was hoping that this would be the start of something new for the both of us. But while I took the wheel to drive Kailing back to her condo in the Balmoral Park area, I couldn’t help but sense a feeling of reticence about her.
I was about to turn into the condo when Kailing told me to pull over. I did as she asked.
“Kailing, I was think-” I began.
“Thank you.” she said.
Thank you?
What?
You don’t thank a person for sex. It’s so transactional. Did I just deliver a service?
Me: “Wha- I…”
Kailing: “I had a really lovely time. But we can’t do this again or be permanent features in each other’s lives. I’ll treasure the moment we shared. Take care, yeah?”
That was my cue to leave the car.
I caught a last glimpse of her lovely legs as she shuffled into the driver’s seat from the passenger side. She threw me a wane smile as she drove through the gates.
Sunday, 20 August 2006
3:05am
Stevens Road
So. It was 3.05am on a Sunday morning. I’d just had amazing sex.
The girl did not want commitment - surprise, surprise - and had just about dropped me off on the side of the road without ceremony.
At an ungodly hour of the morning, too.
Meh.
Doesn’t matter.
Had sex.
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
12:08pm
Tsuen Wan Industrial Estate, HK
Adeline (in Cantonese): “Stop it!”
Despite the firmness of her command, her struggle to get off my lap was feeble – almost a token gesture of defiance. I had an arm around her slim waist, my other arm encircling hers in case she tried to lash out. I felt the weight of her waif-like body in my lap, her bum clad in that tiny skirt separated by a few layers of cloth from my raging erection.
I’d no doubt that Adeline could feel my hardness. She knew what was going to happen was an inevitability.
I said nothing as I shifted her long hair away from her neck. I licked along the hairline at the nape of her neck, one of Adeline’s many erogenous zones that I discovered during our previous session.
Adeline implored (in Cantonese): “Big brother, no. Please. I’m married to Ah Shing. We shouldn’t be doing this…”
Oh, appealing to a sense of familiarity now are we? Oldest trick in the book. Not gonna work.
She drew a breath as I ran the tip of my tongue over her earlobe and blew softly on it.
Then I laid it hard on her:
Me (in Cantonese): “That’s funny. Do you really think Ah Shing gives a shit about your commitment to him? He basically presented you as a gift at my doorstep! So let me put it to you straight: he’s made you a prostitute. And for what? So that you both can continue living in that house in Kowloon Shing? So that you both can continue to be seen in nice cars? So that you both can continue going off on long holidays every few months? All while you both abuse your staff and bleed the company dry?
I was done with preliminaries.
Why bother with niceties with a trapped animal?
Adeline’s delightful bosom was now exposed in the office, and I was manhandling them. During my brief tirade, I had yanked her blouse open and jerked away her bra. The apprehension in her eyes, the tension in her body, her breasts barely covered by fabric… Adeline was ripe for ravishment.
We were now standing, and I was attacking her nipples with wild abandon as I slipped a finger into her slightly damp folds.
Friday, 17 December 2004
7:16pm
Allison & Omari Pte Ltd Annual Dinner
Grand Ballroom, Mandarin Hotel
I didn’t want to be at this fucking annual dinner.
I’m only here because Mr Subra, my mentor and Editorial Director, had bought a table. He had no choice. He was expected to. And us underlings were also expected to go.
But us in the lean Trade Publications editorial team willingly attended on Mr Subra’s account. He was willing to teach us, willing to let us learn from mistakes, willing to hear suggestions on how we can improve our titles and increase the reader base. During brief breaks in our hectic publication schedules, Mr Subra would regale us with stories of his career in print and publications: how books used to be printed from plates of film, how he used to cut out typos from these films and cut and paste corrections in, how strange his hands used to smell after checking the final print proofs before a production run.
A lean, wiry man in his 50s, Mr Subra was a classic teacher and mentor in every sense of the word, one suited in a world of knowledge and gentility. But the poor man was stuck leading an often demoralised team, not of his doing, but by greed and mismanagement at the mid to senior levels.
I had been with the team for three years already. And I had learnt much. I learnt that incompetence was rewarded with lighter workloads. I learnt that promises made over the phone don’t count for shit. I learnt that people will still smile at you in your face, even if they were looking you and slowly plunging a knife into your gut.
Of those in the team, I was closer to Selene and DF (short for “Dickface” – how he got that name was another story on its own). They were colleagues I could get along with, who shared the same work ethic. And Selene had an awesome rack: I’d often gaze at the side profile of her boobs as she sat at the cubicle next to mine.
The company President was giving his welcome note, again droning on about how well we did. Thanks to the sales team – the bloody sales team – as usual. The President had been in sales all his life, lived it and breathed it. So naturally at Allison & Omari, the salespeople were the Tyrannosaurus Rexes. Editorial staff were like the mould that grew on rocks.
And it was simply wrong: a publishing firm’s backbone is the editorial staff. Content IS key. How do you sell any publication if the content is bad due to a thinly stretched editorial team?
We were quite specialised, so the sales folks didn’t have to memorise an entire sales catalogue. Yet, at their whims and fancy, they could walk up to your desk, tell you to put a sales presentation together and be ready to leave in 45 minutes. We’d present, answer questions that were already covered in the marketing collaterals, and then have to rush back and try to catch up on the interrupted work. No sales commission for us either, despite us doing most of the talking. That was the amount of respect we editors got.
Not all members of the sales team were rotten. Lay Eng (a MILF who I’ve often fantasised getting a boob fuck from while she was breastfeeding) and Noor would at least try to inform us of a presentation two days in advance. They’d also try to answer first level questions where they could, before calling us in as the last resort.
As the President spoke, the anger and resentment seethed in me.
It’s standard: after his on-stage ego masturbation at each annual dinner, he’d “ask” the editorial staff to stand up and toast the sales staff. The courtesy, however, was never returned to the editorial staff.
Selene, DF, Mr Subra and the rest of those at the table rose grudgingly with their glasses raised. Our table was at the second row from the front, quite visible from the stage.
I remained seated.
From the rostrum, the President’s eyes met mine.
I remained seated.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
questionzz
oh you work in print and publishment industry? no wonder why i found the way of writing uncanny. intriguing usage of vocab, structured sentence soothing on the eyes and mind as well as the way the posts are being accounted.
all the posts have been such a good read by far. keep up the juicy stories!
Thanks for the feedback!
Yes, I had worked in publishing many years ago, but not anymore.
In case anyone was wondering, the incident about the main character not rising for the sales team toast did happen.
That was when I was posted overseas and still in publishing.
Needless to say, I left the company shortly after to pursue greener pastures.
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
12:11pm
Tsuen Wan Industrial Estate, HK
Adeline’s swollen clitoris was moist from the juices my fingers had spread over the sensitive organ. She could protest all the wanted, but her body was responding such that it betrayed her words. I would get my way.
Her purple G-string came off with one hard jerk, and she yelped at the sudden forceful action.
Adeline was a stuck up bitch, I thought.
One who doesn’t give a shit about others.
And she needed to be put in her place.
In a moment of inspiration, I stopped and stepped back from her, releasing my grip on a breast and pulling my drenched fingers out of her cunt.
Adeline stumbled backwards in her high heels, her firm bum coming to rest on her desk. Slightly dishevelled and panting slightly, she looked at me with trepidation and protectively clasped her right hand on her left elbow in front of her body. This action served to push her firm tits together, enhancing her cleavage.
I wrenched my tie off, and straightened out the knot in one motion. Before Adeline could react, I grabbed her right wrist and twirled the tie around it. Her confusion escalated to fear.
The tie then wound it’s way around her other wrist, bringing both together.
I freed my hard, aching penis from my pants. Adeline’s eyes widened. She yelped again as I grabbed her by an elbow, pulled her to a section of full length glass partition, and spun her around to face the glass.
A whimper escaped her lips as I firmly used my body weight to press her body against the cold glass panel. She turned her head to face me, giving me an imploring look as I pulled her blouse and bra away and pressed her bare B-cup tits against the glass.
From behind her, I slid the head of my cock along her wet slit, lubricating myself for the eventual penetration. With the head wedged firmly at the entrance of Adeline’s tight, sodden sex, I then slowly pushed myself into her. She protested softly, her voice wavering as she tried to push herself away.
What a sight it would have been for anyone who walked in: the beautiful Adeline, bare creamy tits topped with erect brown nipples, was being fucked against a glass barrier.