Raw Silk

by Lisabet Sarai

  You realise, of course, that I miss you terribly, Kate.

  Every night seems longer than the last. I lie awake, staring

  at the ceiling, imagining you in the bright sun of the tropics, remembering your smile, your taste, the auburn curls at the back of your neck…

  When can I telephone you? I need to hear your voice, at

  least…

  Kate felt helpless and guilty. She had hardly given a thought to David since she arrived. Of course, she had been busy getting settled and adjusting to her new job and surroundings. And busy being fucked, she reminded herself harshly. By two different men.

  She sighed to herself, and began to compose a response, trying to sound warm and reassuring but at the same time to not reveal her recent activities. She suggested that he call her next Sunday morning, his time, Sunday evening Bangkok time, and they could have a long talk.

  That duty concluded, Kate turned to her work. She tried to concentrate, but she was jumpy and easily distracted. Every time she heard footsteps in the hall, she found herself looking up. Eventually she got up and closed her office door, but this did not help. In the quiet, she could hear her own heart pounding. Whenever she shifted position in her chair, she felt her bare buttocks move against the slithery material of her skirt. When Malawee came to ask her a question, Kate felt her cheeks grow red. Even seated behind her desk, she felt so exposed.

  The telephone rang. Kate started, then grabbed it on its second ring. When she heard Somtow’s voice, warm relief flooded over her. Yet at the back of her mind, she realised, she had expected and hoped that it would be Marshall.

  “Hello, Katherine! How are you?”

  “Oh, very well, Somtow. Busy.”

  “I am sure you are being very productive.” Katherine could imagine Somtow’s gentle grin. “Are you still available to join me in a trip upriver to Ayuthaya tomorrow?”

  “Oh, definitely. I’m really looking forward to it.” Katherine realised that this was the truth. After her experience with Marshall, Somtow’s easy-going humour, impeccable manners, respectful attention, and honest lust seemed exceptionally appealing. Her discomfort about his marital status was minor in comparison to the confusion she felt about Gregory Marshall.

  “Wonderful. I will pick you up around nine o’clock, if that is convenient for you. My driver will take us to the summer palace at Bang Pa-in. From there we will travel by water.”

  “Perfect. I’ll be ready by nine.”

  “You should wear something cool and comfortable,” said the Thai, “but avoid very revealing clothing, since this would not be proper attire for visiting temples.” He paused. “Much as I might enjoy seeing you in such attire, of course!”

  They both laughed. “Of course, I understand,” said Katherine. “Till tomorrow, then.”

  “Till tomorrow, my dear Katherine.”

  Katherine felt much better after this conversation. The Thai’s sunny presence seemed to have scattered the shadows that gathered around the image of Gregory. She set to work with a new will, and actually began to make some progress.

  Around five o’clock, she finished up and began to collect her things. She and Malawee had a date to go shopping after work. An evening in female company would be soothing and relaxing, she thought, after her recent escapades.

  Just as Katherine was leaving her office, her computer beeped to notify her of new mail. She was unable to prevent herself from turning back to read the message. It was, of course, from Gregory.

  Kate,

  I am pleased that you followed

  my instructions.

  I knew that you would.

  Till next time…

  G.

  Katherine just shook her head and sighed. Was he merely guessing, or was he really so sure of his power over her? She did not have the energy to think about it now.

  Her doorbell rang at exactly nine the next morning. Katherine opened it to find Somtow on the threshold, a broad smile on his handsome face. She felt her own face light up in return.

  “Good morning! I’ll be right with you. Just let me get my bag.”

  “Don’t rush,” said Somtow. “We have all day.”

  Somtow was dressed casually, in beige twill trousers and a cotton knit shirt of vivid blue. The shirt was open at the neck, revealing the pale sheen of his skin. His hair shone jet black in contrast. He looked good enough to eat, thought Katherine, and then smiled internally at her choice of metaphor.

  Katherine wore a long, loose skirt and matching tunic of white cotton gauze. Already the day was hot; only the slightest of breezes stirred the fabric as she and Somtow walked through the garden to his car.

  Soon they were on the highway, speeding north toward Bang Pa-in.

  “Bang Pa-in has been a royal retreat since the 1700’s,” said Somtow. “But most of the buildings that you will see today date from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It is a delightful mix of Thai, European and Chinese styles. Very eclectic.”

  Typically Thai, thought Katherine. When the Thais admired something, they simply copied it, modified it, made it their own.

  Somtow continued to provide her with background on Bang Pa-in and Ayuthaya. Katherine tried to listen, but she found herself distracted by his physical presence. The Thai sat quite close to her, but not touching. He was relaxed yet animated, punctuating his comments with graceful gestures. He was irresistibly attractive.

  Katherine had a strong urge to touch him. However, she did not want to seem pushy or forward. She continued to nod and smile in response to his running commentary, as she shifted slightly on the leather upholstery. Little by little she brought her body closer to him. Then she gradually parted her legs, under her long skirt, so that, finally, her thigh was in contact with his.

  The feel of his hard muscle against her raised an involuntary sigh of satisfaction. This undid her careful strategy of concealment, stopping Somtow in mid-sentence. He searched her face, a half-smile on his full lips. She blushed and lowered her eyes.

  “Ah, Katherine, forgive me for neglecting you!” His lips were on hers now, his tongue darting into her opening mouth. Katherine melted into his arms, savouring the now-familiar taste of him. His hands roved over her body as he continued to kiss her, cupping her breasts through the thin fabric, brushing across her belly.

  When she felt his fingers stray between her thighs, her first reaction was to spread her legs wide and let him explore her. Then she stiffened, remembering the driver in the front seat, without even a glass partition between them. He was an elderly Thai with a dignified, respectful manner—nothing at all like Chaiwat, Katherine had noted to herself. Surely it would be improper, and would make the driver uncomfortable, if she and Somtow were to continue with this kind of open play.

  Somtow sensed the change in her and broke the kiss, looking into her eyes. She said nothing, but inclined her head slightly toward the driver. Somtow smiled and nodded. “Of course,” he said, sitting up. “Now, what was I saying? Oh yes. The Burmese attacked Ayuthaya in 1767, razing temples to the ground, melting down the Buddha images for their gold, and kidnapping many of the citizens.”

  He continued his history lesson in an even tone of voice. However, he did not remove his hand from Katherine’s lap. As he talked, he burrowed his sensitive fingers into her moist cleft, teasing and thrumming the little button of flesh there. Kate tightened her muscles and tried to remain still, watching the driver in the front seat for signs that they were being observed. The sensations grew; she desperately wished that she were nude, that she could feel Somtow’s fingers directly instead of through her clothing.

  As if reading her mind, Somtow removed his hand. While discoursing on the significant influence of French and British cultures on Ayuthaya, he silently moved the hand along the leather towards her, until it was under her skirt. Next, Katherine felt his fingers slide along her thigh, and then inside her undergarment. She held her breath. Finally, there he was, rolling her naked clit between his thumb and fore
finger while his middle two fingers plunged in and out of her hungry cunt.

  Katherine put her fist in her mouth, pretending to yawn but actually stifling a moan of pleasure. She spread her thighs wider, the skirt hiding all, and sank back a little more into the seat, offering Somtow even better access. His nimble fingers stroked and teased, now lingering just at the edge of her swollen lips, now buried deep inside her. She tried to remain quiet, and to keep her breath even, but the closer she came to climax the more difficult this became.

  “Ayuthaya was named after Ayodhya, the fortress of Rama, in the Ramayana epic,” Somtow continued calmly. “It means, ‘unconquerable’ or ‘unassailable’.”

  As he made this remark, he suddenly pushed all four of his fingers hard into her well-lubricated sex, spreading her wide and bringing her over the edge. She stifled a cry as everything within her trembled and convulsed, the tension in her muscles making the pleasure more acute. Like aftershocks, little spasms continued to shake her, as Somtow gently cupped her sex, the heel of his hand pressed lightly against her throbbing clit.

  “This was not an auspicious or appropriate name, as it turned out,” said Somtow, looking at her with a twinkle in his eye. “Though the Thais resisted the Burmese siege, Ayuthaya’s riches and glories made her ripe for the taking.”

  Katherine blushed, hearing in his words a metaphor for her own wantonness. He removed his hand from her private parts and took hold of her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “But I must be boring you with all these details,” he said. “Description is no substitute for experience.” His tone was kind, his expression one of attentiveness and delight. Katherine understood that he did not condemn her for her lust; indeed, he revelled in it.

  As Katherine’s heart began to slow to its normal rate, the automobile also slowed to a stop before an ornate wrought iron gate. “Here we are, at our first stop,” said Somtow. “The royal gardens of Bang Pa-in.”

  He came around to her side of the car, opened the door and helped her out. Katherine took a deep breath, looking around her. Old trees draped with moss were scattered over a manicured lawn. Gravel paths bordered by rainbow-hued flowers wound invitingly off into the distance. It was cooler here than in the city. A pleasant breeze stirred her clothing, heightening her awareness of the dampness between her thighs.

  Somtow gave instructions to his driver, then he steered Katherine down one of the paths. They strolled through the gardens in companionable silence, enjoying the clarity of the morning. Every now and again Somtow touched her, almost absently, a hand laid lightly on her buttocks, an arm around her shoulder. Katherine enjoyed the familiar ease of his touch. Despite their recent acquaintance, and the fact that she really did not know or understand him, she somehow felt comfortable and relaxed in his presence.

  They came around a bend in the path and Katherine gasped. They had emerged onto a marble platform on the edge of a small lake. The water was perfectly still, mirroring the brilliant blue of the sky.

  In the middle of this shimmering expanse, seeming to float above the surface, stood an intricate, exquisitely-proportioned Thai pavilion. Five tiers of red-and-green tiled roof formed steep, overlapping eaves, climbing to a central spire. Ranks of gilded columns supported the roof. Sunlight flashed on the multicoloured chips of mirror that decorated the peaked panels above each entrance. The whole structure was delicate, airy, almost insubstantial, an imaginary palace from some fairy tale. The scene was made even more unreal by the other buildings Katherine saw on the opposite shore: an Italian-style villa with arches and domes, a Chinese pagoda, and a tower that reminded Katherine of a New England lighthouse.

  “Remarkable, is it not?” Somtow smiled at her reaction. “This pavilion is considered to be one of the finest examples of classic Thai architecture in the Kingdom. Perhaps this gives you some idea of what Ayuthaya must have been like in its day: hectare after hectare of palaces, temples and pavilions, their graceful eaves sweeping toward the earth, their golden towers pointing to the sky.

  “But come. Let us make our way down to the quay. I have hired a converted rice barge to take us upriver. I think that you will find life along the Chao Phraya quite a contrast to this scene of royal eccentricity.”

  The barge was waiting, a broad wooden craft with a central cabin and open decks on either end. A convex roof covered the whole length of the barge, shading the decks. They were met by a handsome youth with a shy smile, who helped them across the gangplank and onto the forward deck.

  Then he cast off from the mooring and disappeared to the stern. Katherine felt the barge vibrate as the engine started. Soon they were headed upstream, moving smoothly through the muddy water.

  Katherine and Somtow lounged comfortably on the cushioned benches that lined the sides of the boat. A young woman in traditional dress appeared with refreshments: ice cold lemon juice and an array of tropical fruit. Somtow picked up a spear of pineapple, dipped it into a dish of white and red powder that sat in the middle of the fruit platter, and offered it to Katherine. “This is the typical way that Thais eat fruit,” he said. “With salt and chilli. I know that it may sound odd to you, but try it.”

  Katherine took a bite. The complex of sweetness, saltiness and spiciness was quite remarkable. She smiled appreciatively. “That’s fantastic,” she said. “Like nothing I have ever tasted before. But whatever inspired the Thais to try this in the first place?”

  “Just our natural creativity,” said Somtow with a grin. “Or perhaps our craving for new and exciting sensations.” He leaned forward and kissed her, his taste adding to other flavours mingling on her tongue.

  The roar of an unmuffled motor roused them from their embrace. A narrow boat with a high, sharp prow raced past them, leaving the barge rocking gently in its wake. “A long-tail boat, as they are called,” said Somtow. “A modern adaptation of the traditional dragon boats that plied the river in past centuries.” He kissed her again, lightly. “Personally, I prefer a more leisurely pace.”

  Katherine stood up and leaned on the gunwale, taking in the myriad sights of the river. Stretches of verdant jungle alternated with rickety-looking wooden houses, perched on stilts at the river’s edge. Women in sarongs squatted on the porches of these shacks, doing laundry or cooking on charcoal braziers. The delicious smell of frying garlic came to her across the water.

  She saw the slick heads of children, heard their shrill cries as they splashed each other. A flat-bottomed boat piled high with bananas passed their barge, propelled by a long pole in the hands of an elderly woman in a conical straw hat.

  Then she caught sight of tiled roofs and gilded spires through the palm trees. It was a wat, a Buddhist temple, inaccessible except by water. A winding stairway led from the complex of buildings down to the shore. At water level sat a small pavilion, with the typical peaked roof and upturned eaves. Katherine saw a young man draped in orange robes seated there, pensively watching the river flow by. The monk looked up as they passed. Katherine felt an ache in her chest. His beautiful, serious face, lit by the late-morning sun, was too perfect.

  Immersed in the scenes on the riverside, Katherine started when she felt Somtow’s hands on her hips. She twisted around to look at him.

  “No,” he said, “please, just stay the way you are.” She obeyed, turning back the river and leaning her elbows on the railing. She felt her skirt being drawn up, until it was around her waist. Next, her knickers were pulled down until they were at her ankles.

  “Perhaps I should just stop wearing any underwear,” Katherine remarked with a little laugh. Gregory’s face flashed briefly in her mind’s eye; she pushed the thought of him away.

  “Perhaps that would be a good idea,” said Somtow, completely serious. He helped her step out of the garment.

  “Now, spread your legs a bit, Katherine.”

  “What about the young pilot, and the girl who brought us the fruit?”

  “They know better than to bother us,” said Somtow. He was kneeling behind her. She felt his tong
ue, tracing a line up the inside of her thigh.

  “In any case,” he said after a moment, “you would not really mind if they were watching, would you?” He lingered in the crease where her thigh swelled into the fullness of her buttocks. Katherine let out an involuntary sigh, and opened her legs a little wider.

  She did not answer his question. Her imagination, though, supplied an image of the pilot and the serving girl, peaking out of the cabin at her bare backside, liberally anointed with her lover’s saliva. The thought brought a strange, forbidden thrill. She imagined the pilot, unbuttoning the girl’s top, while guiding her hand to his swollen cock. Somtow could see right through her, she realised, writhing as he swept his tongue along the length of her sex.

  He licked her in broad strokes, front to back, starting at her clit and moving smoothly to the spot where her aching pussy-lips came together again. She arched her back to give him better access, and closed her eyes, savouring the fantastic sensations he was giving her. She felt incredibly wet, from his saliva and her own juices. Sunlight reflected from the water danced on her closed eyelids. The low rumble of the barge’s motor set up a sympathetic vibration in her limbs. She felt the roar of the engine deep within her cunt.

  Then came a new, a different feeling, like an electric shock. Somtow reached the back of her sex, but instead of beginning a new cycle, he set his tongue to work on her anus.

  His hands were on her cheeks, pulling them apart. He circled around the tight knot several times, then poked his tongue into the ring of muscle, probing and teasing.

  Embarrassment swept over Katherine, that he should be exploring such a private spot. She almost asked him to stop. At the same time, she was unbelievably excited. Every time he delved into her hind hole, her cunt was seized with a new spasm of pleasure. She grasped her nipples, squeezing hard, and pushed her hips back, silently begging him to search her more deeply.

  The intimate kisses stopped, and Katherine felt mingled relief and regret. Before she could analyze this, there was another change. Somtow’s hard rod of flesh slid into her cunt. He pumped her steadily, rhythmic strokes that brought moans to her lips. She rocked in time with him, tightening her inner muscles each time he entered.