Raw Silk

by Lisabet Sarai

  At first she could not see anything. Then, as her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she discerned two figures, below the temple on its pedestal. A man and a woman, in a fervent embrace.

  It was Ae, Kate realised, recognising the multicoloured sarong. Her companion’s face was in shadow, hidden in the luxurious mass of her hair. He stood behind her, encircling her with his arms, his right hand massaging her breast, while his left was cupped firmly over her pubis. Ae writhed in his grasp, clearly welcoming his touch.

  Kate watched, holding her breath, as the right hand unbuttoned the maid’s blouse, one slow button at a time. Simultaneously, the left hand loosed the twists in the cloth that held the sarong around her waist. The fabric fell to the ground, revealing the girl’s shapely thighs and buttocks.

  The man’s right hand now grasped her right nipple, delicately rolling it between finger and thumb. The left hand travelled languidly up the front of her body to the other breast, capturing the other nipple in a symmetric caress. The maid arched her back in pleasure, pressing her buttocks against her partner’s body. Another soft moan escaped her lips.

  Now the man gently released Ae’s breasts, and turned her toward him. The moon lit up his face, and Kate recognised Chaiwat’s drooping moustache and ironic grin. Somehow, she was not surprised.

  He was not particularly tall, but he appeared to tower over the tiny figure of the maid. He bent to kiss her, full on the lips, then stripped off his trousers and shirt with amazing speed.

  Kate continued to watch the naked couple. Chaiwat lifted Ae with both hands and settled her onto his ready cock. Kate felt a stirring between her own thighs as the maid wrapped her legs around Chaiwat’s waist. The driver held his partner firmly by the buttocks, and began to rock her up and down, slowly at first, with time for one long breath between each thrust. Meanwhile, he used his tongue on Ae’s breasts, circling one nipple and then the other, in the same deliberate rhythm.

  Hidden behind the curtains, Kate let her fingers linger on her own breasts, teasing, barely touching, imagining the sensations the maid was experiencing. She leaned against the door frame and gave herself up to her own pleasure, her hands travelling familiar pathways across her own flesh.

  Ae gripped Chaiwat’s shoulders. In the brilliant white light, Kate thought she could see indentations where the maid’s nails pressed into his skin. Chaiwat countered this, taking a plump nipple into his mouth and lightly applying his teeth. Ae gave a little yelp.

  Kate pinched her own nipple, as hard as she could. Waves of sensation, too delicious to be pain, spread from that focus down to her sex. With her thumb and forefinger, she pulled on her clitoris, imagining the wiry driver’s hands on her ass. She felt the moon washing over her; her smooth skin was luminous, damp with the heat and with her excitement.

  Kate turned her eyes again to the scene below her. Ae had Chaiwat locked firmly between her thighs. His thrusts came faster now, and Ae was making soft whimpering sounds each time he drove his cock into her. The rhythm quickened still more. Kate stroked herself in time, her breath becoming quick and shallow as climax grew closer.

  Suddenly Ae cried out sharply. Kate opened her eyes just before she reached her own peak, to see the maid arched backward, long hair falling around her in a dark cascade. Moonlight burned the scene into Kate’s memory: entwined limbs and gleaming flesh, fragrant shadows and silken tresses.

  City of Angels, indeed. As Kate surrendered herself to the irresistible waves of orgasm, one small part of her mind noted that Chaiwat had been looking up, grinning obscenely, directly at her balcony.

  Chapter Two

  The Prince

  The first week flew by in a blur. Jet lag muddled Kate’s thoughts and perceptions, as she tried to assimilate the fascinating and mystifying details of her new surroundings.

  Despite her persistent drowsiness, Kate managed to get herself into a taxi and over to the Silom Road offices of DigiThai, Ltd. on Monday morning. The company leased a suite on the tenth floor of a modern office building. Kate announced herself to the receptionist, a friendly young woman with stylishly short hair who introduced herself as Anchana.

  “Please sit down, Miss O’Neill. Mr Harrison will be with you in just a moment.” Anchana’s English was nearly perfect, with only a slight accent.

  Kate admired the understated decor of the anteroom: Scandinavian-style teak furniture upholstered in raw silk; multicoloured weavings framed on the walls; a single spray of white orchids in a simple celadon vase on Anchana’s teak and glass desk. Kate’s new company, it appeared, was far from struggling.

  “Katherine!” The hearty voice matched the man who emerged from the door behind Anchana’s desk. Edward Harrison was large, grizzled, bear-like. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, a matching Rolex watch, several rings, a perfectly-tailored grey suit. He beamed at her and shook her hand enthusiastically. “We didn’t expect to see you today. I had assumed that you would take several days off to recover.”

  Kate returned the vigorous handshake and the smile. “I was eager to get started, Mr Harrison. Also, I thought that perhaps being busy would help me to forget how sleepy I feel!”

  “Please, call me Edward. Well, we’re delighted that you’re here.” He surveyed her, in her trim navy skirt and blazer, and heels, with obvious approval. “You are even better than I had hoped.”

  This struck Kate as a very odd remark. However, Harrison continued without giving her time to dwell on it.

  “Anchana will show you your office, introduce you to everyone, and help you get settled. Later this morning, why don’t you drop by and we’ll have more opportunity to get acquainted.”

  DigiThai, it turned out, consisted of about a dozen individuals. Aside from Kate and Edward Harrison, all were Thai. The company developed and sold off-the-shelf and customised multimedia systems: computers, graphics displays, video recording and display equipment, and of course, the software. This was where Kate apparently fit in. She had been hired as the technical manager, to enhance and expand the company’s software offerings.

  The sales and marketing team consisted of two earnest young men with slicked-back hair and dark suits. They grinned broadly when introduced, belying their studied self-presentation as businesslike and serious. The company also included Ruengroj—“call me Roj”—a commercial artist and photographer, with his faded blue jeans and black ponytail; several hardware engineers—white business shirts, dark pants, no neckties—and a three-person software engineering team, all recent graduates from prestigious King Mongkut Institute of Technology.

  Despite their common background, the software engineers were diverse. First, there was Wang, a plump, cheerful man of Chinese descent, who favoured loud shirts and cowboy boots. In contrast, Suvit was skinny and shy, with a voice so soft Kate could hardly understand him, despite his good English. Finally, there was Malawee, a woman perhaps five years Kate’s junior, with straight shoulder length hair and wire-frame glasses. Aside from the receptionist, and Kate herself, Malawee was the only other female in the company.

  It was Malawee who helped Kate become acquainted with her new surroundings. Initially reserved, the Thai woman became much more open and friendly when Kate made it clear that she considered Malawee a colleague, not a subordinate.

  Malawee helped Kate set up an account on the network, configure her email, and access the existing software libraries. She spent several hours introducing Kate to the company’s products and capabilities before leaving Kate in her office to explore more deeply on her own.

  Meanwhile, Edward Harrison provided Kate with a business orientation.

  “As I told you when we spoke on the phone,” he boomed, “we are targeting the entertainment and advertising industries here in Thailand. These sectors are growing rapidly, and they are extremely keen on digital technology.” He gestured at a graph tacked to the wall behind his desk.“There have been thirteen new cable television channels launched here during the last six months. Two cyberclubs opened in Bangkok, complete with v
irtual reality booths and long-distance video conferencing. Half a dozen new Internet Service Providers have registered with the authorities.”

  “Meanwhile, Thai advertising agencies are booking clients from Singapore, Hong Kong, even Australia, all of whom want technically sophisticated visual effects. As you may have noticed,” he beamed at her over the rims of his glasses,” the Thais frequently exhibit an amazingly refined aesthetic sense.”

  This remark reminded Kate of her beautiful house and garden, and her equally exquisite maid. Ae had given no indication, the next morning, that anything unusual had occurred. She appeared as guileless, innocent, and composed as she had when greeting Kate the night before. While eating a late breakfast, Kate had watched Ae sweeping and tidying, in continued amazement at the maid’s grace. Was this really the same woman she had spied on in the garden, who had writhed and groaned in the arms of her salacious lover?

  During that first week, Kate saw no further signs of Chaiwat, and she began to wonder whether, dazed with fatigue and missing her own lover, she might have imagined the moonlight scene. She was busy enough with her new life and responsibilities, though, that she did not have time to dwell on this possibility.

  By Friday, Kate found she was regaining her customary alertness. No longer did her head feel as if it were stuffed with cotton wool. She could stay awake past nine PM, and had stopped finding herself in bed, wide-eyed and unsleeping, in the early hours of the morning.

  Friday around noon, as Kate was leaving to get some lunch and do a few errands, Edward Harrison called out to her.

  “Katherine! Do you have a few minutes? There’s someone I would like you to meet.” He held open the door and ushered her into his plushly appointed office. A Thai man, seated among the silk cushions of the carved sofa, rose gracefully as she entered.

  Katherine made no outward sign, but she inwardly caught her breath. This was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Thick, wavy black hair framed a pale, smooth, symmetrical face. The features were delicate, almost feminine, and the full lips jarred slightly with the man’s attentive, serious demeanour, but the strong chin and straight nose conveyed a sense of natural authority. The man’s eyes were large, dark, almond-shaped, with a distinct twinkle that Kate found immediately appealing.

  It was difficult to determine the age of a Thai, but Katherine guessed that he was in his early thirties. He moved with the kind of fluid control that she associated with dancers, or athletes. The man was dressed impeccably, if a bit conservatively, in a charcoal-grey suit of beautiful Italian wool. Her eye caught a flash of gold from his cuffs.

  “Katherine, this is Mom Rajawongse Somtow Rajchitraprasong, our Thai partner in DigiThai. Khun Somtow, Miss Katherine O’Neill.”

  The smile brewing in the man’s eyes burst onto his face as he took Katherine’s hand. “A great pleasure, Miss Katherine,” he said, bowing slightly. “I have been looking forward to meeting you ever since Edward told me that you were coming. How are you enjoying your stay in Thailand?”

  Kate returned the handshake. The man’s skin was cool, dry, remarkably pleasing to the touch. “Khun Somtow, the honour is mine.” She relinquished his hand almost reluctantly. “Since I’ve only been here for a few days, I’ve seen very little. But I’m impressed by what I have seen so far.”

  “Perhaps I will be able to show you more of the real Thailand, Miss Katherine.” When Somtow Rajchitraprasong smiled, the whole room lit up. “Edward, I have taken enough of your valuable time, and Miss Katherine’s. I must go now.” Turning back to Katherine, he bowed a second time. “Once again, a pleasure.”

  Edward Harrison cleared his throat. “Katherine, would you mind walking Khun Somtow to the elevator? Anchana’s still not back from lunch.”

  “Of course. I was on my way out in any case.” The Thai man stood aside politely for her to exit the office, then held the door of the suite for her. She tried to ignore her raging heartbeat as they waited for the elevator.

  “Edward tells me that you are very accomplished as a software engineer, that you have several patents.”

  Katherine blushed, uncharacteristically. “Well, I can’t take complete credit; I was just the leader of the development team.”

  “Even so. I am sure that you will be a tremendous asset to DigiThai.”

  “Well, of course I’ll do my best.” The elevator arrived and they stepped into the empty cabin.

  “And also, I understand that you are a dancer.”

  Katherine froze. Why would Edward have communicated this tidbit of her life’s history to this man who was, in effect, her Thai boss? She tried to answer lightly. “It’s just a hobby, although I do enjoy it very much.”

  Somtow looked at her directly, clearly evaluating and appreciating her body. Somehow, his honest gaze was more flattering than insulting. “I can see that you would, Miss Katherine.” He held her eyes for a moment, then smiled as the elevator reached the ground floor and the door slid open.

  As they reached the street door, Kate held out her hand.

  “Well, goodbye. I hope to see you again sometime.”

  “Why not now?“Somtow smiled. “Would you do me the honour of joining me for lunch?”

  Flustered, Katherine shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I have several pressing errands. Also, I have to be back in time for a meeting at 2:30.”

  “So diligent!” Kate thought she heard a touch of laughter in his cultured voice. “In that case, would you come to dinner? At my home, tomorrow evening?” For a moment, she felt as though someone had cut the elevator cables; her stomach plummeted and she was out of breath. “Please, Katherine. It will be a first opportunity for me to show you something of our Thai ways.”

  Katherine was very confused. This was her boss’s partner, clearly a man of wealth, power and influence. Was it proper for her to see him socially? At the same time, she found him extremely appealing: his lively good humour and slightly old-fashioned manners as well as his laughing eyes and lithe body.

  “Well … “she began.

  “Please. Here is my card.” He offered it with both hands, and she took it automatically. “My home address is on the left; on the back you will find it written in Thai, for your taxi driver.” Katherine turned the square of cardboard, admired the archaic, flowing characters. “Would eight o’clock be convenient?”

  “Ah—yes, yes of course. Eight o’clock would be fine.” She still felt dazed.

  “Wonderful. I will look forward to seeing you.” He took her hand in both of his. “Until then, Miss Katherine, I will take your leave.”

  As Kate awkwardly bid him farewell in turn, out of the corner of her eye she saw Anchana, reentering the building. The young woman’s eyes were wide with surprise.

  When she returned from lunch, Anchana beckoned to her. “Do you know who you were talking to?” the receptionist asked in an excited, hushed tone.

  “Of course,” said Kate. “Khun Somtow is the Thai partner of Digital Enterprises Limited. Mr Harrison introduced us this morning.”

  Anchana could hardly contain herself. “But, that’s not all! He is a Mom Rajawongse—a member of the extended Royal Family. What you would call, in English, a prince. He will never be King, but his family has a high place, very high.”

  A prince! And he had invited her to dinner. Now Kate felt twice as nervous.

  The taxi took Katherine into an unfamiliar part of the city. She sat in the back seat, her hands folded in her lap, trying to distract herself by observing the sights around her: sidewalk noodle carts, surrounded by rickety metal tables and stools; gleaming display windows, showing off designer clothing and imported cars; vacant lots fenced in corrugated tin; red and orange tiles on the layered roofs of the occasional temple.

  She had spent half the day worrying about what to wear. How formal should she be? Should she wear heels, or were sandals sufficient? Her basic black sheath, with its short hemline, and her pearls? The flowing blue batik she had found in the little shop around the corner fr
om her house? Should she wear a suit, given that Khun Somtow was a business acquaintance? She wanted to look attractive, she admitted to herself, but not overly seductive; she did not want to send the wrong message. But what message did she really want to send, she asked herself privately.

  She had settled for simplicity: an ankle-length, sleeveless dress of forest green Thai silk, and black patent sandals. Her good pearls set off the scooped neckline of the gown. The luscious green of the silk made her hair blaze all the more brightly; the slit skirt allowed her to walk comfortably and provided an occasional glimpse of her well-muscled thigh.

  In a moment of rebelliousness that she was beginning to regret, she had decided to forgo wearing a brassiere. It was too hot, she told herself, too uncomfortable. Now, as the cab pulled in through a set of elaborate wrought-iron gates, Katherine could feel her bare nipples brush against the light silk. She gave a little shiver. What had she been thinking? Well, it was too late now.

  The taxi had stopped in a circular driveway, in front of massive double doors of carved wood. As Katherine paid the fare, the doors were opened by a regal woman in a purple sarong and close-fitting gold-embroidered blouse. A sash with an intricate pattern of purple and gold crossed her breast and was held at one shoulder with a brooch like a sunburst. Her hair was piled high on her head, held in place by combs with matching sunburst designs.

  The woman made a graceful wai then spoke in accented English.

  “Miss Katherine, you are welcome. Please leave your shoes here and follow me. Dinner will be served in the sala in the garden.”

  Katherine found herself in a semi-circular entrance hall. She slipped out of her sandals and savoured the cool smoothness of the polished terrazzo floor under her bare feet. The maid led her through a set of French doors to a long corridor floored with teak parquet. A subdued light came from intermittent electric sconces designed to look like candle lanterns. The corridor was lined with etched glass doors, all closed. Occasionally, she and her guide would pass a painting, a piece of sculpture, or a porcelain vase, artfully lighted so that it seemed to glow from within. Katherine particularly noted a seated Buddha image of white marble, no more than six inches high but wrought in exquisite detail.