by Marni Mann
She’d just been standing in front of the bottle. There was no reason she couldn’t have grabbed it.
“What do you want, Arin?”
I’d asked that question so many goddamn times.
It never seemed like it was easy for her to answer.
Until now.
“I want you to wash me,” she said.
“I’d have to touch you.”
“I know.”
I gripped the top of the frame where the metal met the glass and squeezed the fucker, like I was getting ready to demo it. “Tell me, Arin.”
“I want you to touch me. Please, Huck, don’t make me wait a second longer.”
I walked inside the shower, the spray beating down on my clothes, causing my jeans to become heavy, my shirt to stick to me, my boots to squeak. I didn’t fucking care. I lifted the bottle of shampoo off the shelf and squirted some into my hands and placed them on her head, moving my fingers in circles over her scalp. The bubbles and lather spread all the way down her strands.
Her breathing changed. Light moans filled my ears.
Fuck, I loved those sounds.
The wetness of my jeans was weighing on my cock. I wanted to rip them off, lift her to my waist, and sink inside her. But she hadn’t given me permission to do that yet. That was why I stayed dressed—to stop myself from fucking her and to keep my cock away from her.
She closed her eyes as she tilted her head back, and a calmness spread over her face. It was the same way she looked when she slept. Completely at peace.
I’d made her feel like that.
And I wanted it to stay that way, to empty her mind of all her thoughts. For her to trust my hands whenever they were around her because I wouldn’t ever do anything that would cause her lids to open.
“Huck,” she groaned.
I swiped a small line of bubbles over her cheek. “Yes?”
“You feel so incredible. You’re making me sleepy.”
“Then, fall asleep.”
She looked up at me through her lashes. They were long, and drops of water clung to them. “I’m not ready for bed.” She reached for one of my hands and held it between hers. “At least, not until you wash me.”
I lifted the handheld to rinse her hair and clean the shampoo off my fingers. When all the bubbles were gone, I filled my palms with soap and rubbed both sides until they were completely covered. Then, I started massaging Arin’s shoulders, using the same pressure I had on her scalp. I rotated across each muscle, squeezing my way down her arms and over her chest until I got to her tits. I cupped them, grazing the ends of each nipple. They were hard, the skin around them puckered.
Her mouth was open, teeth bared, like she was about to fucking growl.
I knew she liked pain.
I knew she liked the surprise of it even more.
So, I left her tits and skimmed my fingers across her navel. There were spots where she was still bruised, but every day, they were getting closer to a normal color. And, since she didn’t wince as I touched them, I knew they were starting to feel better.
Once I got to her pussy, I wouldn’t be able to pull my hands away, so I avoided it by going to her legs. I knelt on the tiles and worked my way across the outside of her thighs, circling around her knees, kneading her calves, and moving down to her feet. Even those were beautiful. I pressed my knuckles into the center of her arches and behind each toe.
“Oh my God,” she sighed, gripping the edge of the bench with both hands, looking like it was taking every bit of strength she had not to slide off.
Gradually, I rose again, my thumbs going first as I rubbed across her thighs. Her legs spread apart, and I moved in between them, staring at her center where the two perfect fucking folds housed the clit I wanted to lick. I had to hold myself back from leaning forward and sucking it into my mouth.
Her pussy was all I wanted.
All I’d thought about every night since her body turned cold in the hallway, and I’d known she’d changed her mind, so I’d left her there.
But, every time I’d watched her get undressed and stare at the snake and touch her cunt, I’d thought about what her pussy would taste like. And that had been daily because that was how often she fingered herself since our last kiss.
“What do you want, Huck?”
She had used my words, but they didn’t get my attention. I was too focused to look at her face.
I’d seen so many cunts in my lifetime—in pictures I used to advertise the brothel, in live feeds, every time I passed the museum as a girl flashed hers to a client, and then there were the ones I’d been inside of.
None were as sexy as Arin’s.
I wanted to know what it would feel like to slip my tongue over each side of her clit, how she would sound as I flicked the end of it, if she’d beg for my teeth or my fingers or both.
“I want to taste you,” I hissed.
She set her feet on the edge of the bench and curled her toes around it. Then, she moved her ass as close to the ledge as she could get it. “Please do it,” she urged.
I finally looked in her eyes. “Louder, Arin. I need to hear you beg.”
My hands were framing her cunt, creating the perfect triangle around it. They were still wet and soapy and could so easily dip down and slip right in.
But she would get nothing until I got what I needed to hear.
“I want you to taste me,” she moaned. “So badly.”
There it was.
The response I’d been waiting for.
I licked across my bottom lip as my stare dropped, taking in the whole section of her body that I was going to eat. The longer I waited, the more it teased me. My mouth watered for her cunt. My fingers ached to know what the inside of her would feel like.
First, I needed to know its smell.
I stuck my nose between her hole and her slit, and I inhaled. The scent of soap wasn’t what filled me. Arin was sweeter than that. This was like the honey that I’d smelled on her earlier and maple that I’d had during one of my trips to the UK.
Keeping my nose against her, I opened my mouth and licked around the entire rim of her cunt. Then, slowly—so fucking slowly—I dragged the tip to the top of her lips and down to her ass.
Mmm.
Her taste was as good as her smell, like I’d poured sugar right down the middle of my fucking tongue.
I wanted to rub my entire face across her pussy just so I could keep her scent and her flavor on me. So, I could have both once I got out of this shower, when it was time to pump my cock and drain all the cum from it.
“Huck,” she gasped as I worked my way down and up again, nipping the top of her clit. “That feels so good.” Her hand pressed against the side of my face, as though she were trying to keep me from going anywhere.
She didn’t have to worry. My mouth wasn’t leaving.
I reached behind me to get the soap off my hand. Once it was washed off, I drove two fingers inside her pussy. She was so fucking tight. So wet.
“Oh my God,” she sighed. “That feels so good.”
There was a difference between water and the slickness inside a woman’s cunt. What I felt in Arin wasn’t water. She was turned on. And, as I dragged my tongue across that slickness, I could taste just how turned on she was.
I buried both fingers as I pointed my tongue over her clit, and I started flicking it.
The eating had been for me. The flicking was now for her.
I was relentless.
And the orgasm she was about to have would be for the both of us.
I gave her a third finger, stretching the three and then folding them together while they thrust in and out. My tongue didn’t move from the top of her lips, but my speed and pressure increased. I knew she was close when her hips began to buck in my rhythm. She was moaning, almost lightly screaming from all the pleasure. She tightened around my knuckles and released. So, I flattened my tongue, covering all of her, and I moved in hard, fast strokes.
I watched he
r face as her orgasm built. Her eyes closed, lips parted. Her skin turned flush, and her chest heaved. It wasn’t just her sounds that told me she was coming. It was the way her cunt hugged and pulsed around my fingers. It was her coating my skin with a wetness that was even thicker than before. And it was the way her navel shook in spasms as each shudder worked through her body.
When she eventually stilled, her eyes opened, and I gently pulled my fingers out. But I didn’t move my face or my lips. I kept them pressed into her, catching every drop that fell and swallowing them all. Her scent was even stronger now that she’d come. And even more delicious.
“Ready for bed?” I asked, looking up.
Her legs were still pushed far apart, her toes curled around the edge, but her breathing was finally under control. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Isn’t it your turn?”
She went to reach for my dick, and I caught her hand and stopped it from moving.
“That was my turn, Arin.”
There were so many places I wanted to stick my cock. Flipping her around, putting her on her knees, and sliding it straight into her fucking ass was one.
But, right now, she needed rest.
“Wait here,” I told her.
I went outside the shower, and knowing she was watching me through the glass, I kept my back to her and stripped off my clothes. Naked, I reached for a towel and wrapped it around my waist. Then, I grabbed a second one and brought it over to Arin.
What looked like shock filled her eyes. “Your tattoos,” she said.
I tied the towel around her and lifted her into my arms. Once I got on the bathmat, I set her feet on top of it and started wiping her off. Her eyes stayed on my ink, which covered almost my entire torso and back.
“You have so many of them,” she continued.
She’d seen the ones on my hands and the designs that peeked out from the collar of my shirt. She shouldn’t be surprised that I had more on my body.
“I’m not done,” I told her. “My legs will be next.”
“Wow,” she said as I lifted her again and carried her to her room.
Instead of putting any clothes on her, I set her on the bed and tucked her underneath the covers. I wanted her naked, so when I watched her from my room, with her scent on my face and my hand around my cock, I could see her nipples poke into the sheet and the darkness where her cunt lay beneath.
“Good night, Arin.” Just as I was about to close her bedroom door, I heard my name. I turned around and said, “Yeah?”
“It’s never been that intense before.” Her eyes dipped to my chest. She took a breath and lifted them again.
That was because I fucking loved eating her pussy. Because I wanted to live between her legs, have her cunt spread over my mouth, and have her goddamn taste continuously flowing down my throat.
Most men weren’t like me.
They didn’t crave it like I did.
My bite might be as vicious as a snake’s, but I had a weakness.
The taste of a good pussy.
And Arin’s was the best one I’d had.
“Wait until you get my cock,” I said.
Then, I shut the door.
Arin
Last night was the best sleep I’d gotten since I arrived at Bangkok. My body had been completely relaxed. Even my mind had had no problem shutting off, which surprised me after everything that had happened with Huck.
I’d given him permission to have my mouth, so I had known he was going to take it. I just hadn’t thought it would feel so good or that I’d enjoy it that much.
Or that his lips would be on my pussy and the only thing he’d expect in return was my orgasm.
I’d had one for him.
And it was the most intense one that had ever gone through my body.
What the hell am I doing?
I had known I was going to cave the second he touched me at the bottom of the stairs. I had known how wrong it was. I’d also known there was no use in fighting it. This man did something to me that I wasn’t used to. He made me feel a desire I hadn’t known I had. He hadn’t stuck his dick in me and fucked me like a rabbit. He’d savored me. He had taken his time.
Two other mouths had been in that same spot before. Neither had licked me with such ferocity, with such a need to make me come.
During my time here, Huck and I were going to be intimate. And, the second I left Bangkok, everything between us was going to stop.
It had to.
That also meant I needed to pick a return date. I couldn’t stay here forever. But I also couldn’t rush back home without the proper documentation.
I needed to work on that.
But, today, I had to work for Huck. I climbed out of bed a little earlier than usual to make sure I got my stretches in and to take a shower and do my hair. Lawan was waiting for me in my room when I came out of the bathroom. She handed me a new pair of scrubs that looked as large as the last ones. I put them on and tied my sneakers, and she helped me down the stairs. The pain began to ease a bit more, and it wasn’t as bad as yesterday. My balance had gotten a little better, too.
After taking the elevator to the first floor, she brought me into the back room and to the vanity of cosmetics. “Refill.” She pointed at the bottles behind the shampooing bowl. “And those.” Then, she brought me over to a closet that wasn’t far from where we were standing. She handed me a key. “To unlock it. Don’t lose it.”
“I won’t.”
“When you’re done, you’ll go back outside. It’ll help build your strength.”
“Thank you,” I said as she walked out of the room.
I used the key to open the closet, which turned out to be a supply room. I wasn’t sure if the girls could be trusted, so every time I took something out, I’d lock the door behind me, restock the item, and then unlock it again to grab the next thing.
It was tedious.
It was far better than spending time in my room.
I was halfway done with refilling the vanity when a girl came over to the sink next to me and rested her hand on top of the bowl of Q-tips. She looked at me as though she were asking permission to take one.
“Go ahead,” I told her. “Help yourself.”
I was surprised when she said, “Thank you,” and I still made a mental note that I should probably use hand gestures next time if I could.
“Do you speak English?”
She rubbed the Q-tip underneath her eyes, removing some of the black makeup that had smudged. “Enough to get by,” she answered with a grin.
I took out a bag of condoms from the closet and started sticking the foil packets into a glass jar. There were jars for everything. “How long have you worked here?”
She dropped the Q-tip into the trash and grabbed a bottle of hairspray, holding it at her roots and spraying it all the way down to her ends. Based on the way she looked, I suspected she had just finished up with a client.
“Two years, I think.”
“Are you from here?”
“Yep.” She glanced toward me and did a once-over, and then her attention went back on her hair. “Why you here? You American. You don’t need to be here.”
“I’m going back home soon.”
She tore off a few paper towels and folded them into a square, soaking them in water and then covering it all in soap.
“Why do you work here?” I asked, emptying a bag of cotton balls into a jar.
Huck had told me not to ask Lawan any questions, but he hadn’t said anything about the girls. So, as far as I was concerned, there was nothing wrong about having a conversation with them. Really, I just wanted to get an understanding of how it all worked around here. I knew girls came in the same way I had. Huck had said they had been in worse shape than me.
Did Huck force them to sell their body? Had this girl been dumped on the docks in a burlap sack, too?
“Need the money,” she said. “This place has lots, so I work here.”
“Do you like it here?”
She placed the paper towel underneath her skirt and started to clean herself. I wasn’t sure if I should look away. She didn’t appear self-conscious about it. When another girl walked in, she didn’t stop wiping, and she didn’t try to hide what she was doing. In fact, she wet a second towel, added more soap, and went back for a second cleanse.
“Have to be careful,” she said. “Condoms give yeast infections.”
That was something I never had to worry about with any of the jobs I’d had.
We lived such different lives. Yet she smiled as she scrubbed herself, the same way she’d been grinning when she used a Q-tip on her eyes. She was either completely desensitized by this place or she was truly happy here.
“I like it here,” she said. “Worked other places—no good. Mean boss. Very abusive. Huck not like that at all. He take care of us.”
Based on this room and the things I’d been restocking, I wasn’t surprised to hear that.
“Are you married?” I asked.
I couldn’t tell her age. She had no wrinkles. Neither did any of the other women I’d seen working here.
“Yes, and two kids.”
“Your husband doesn’t mind?”
She threw the second wad of paper towels into the trash and picked up another one to dry herself off. “Husband lost leg. Fishing accident.” She threw that towel away and pocketed two condoms into the side of her bra. “He walk to docks, but with one leg, too far. Me, the only one that works. I have to provide. This makes me lots of money.” She washed her hands, lathered them in cream, and turned to face me. “You go home. This no kind of place for you.” She bowed and walked to the door, leaving me with even more questions.
Had that been a warning?
Should I take her advice and hurry out of here?
Maybe it wasn’t a warning at all.