Samantha in Singapore

by Alex Jamieson

  As Javier leaned into my wife, I watched as her lips parted just slightly, and the kiss they shared was almost more loving than passionate.

  What the hell had we started?

  #####

  The ride back to the villa was surreal, to say the least. Charlie was oohing and aahing to Tony about Sven’s magic fingers. Tony seemed torn between lapping up every word and being considerate of my state of shock.

  Sam just gripped my hand for the entire twenty-minute journey and never spoke. When we arrived, Tony reminded us of the travel schedule for the following day and suggested we all head to bed.

  As soon as our bedroom door was closed behind us, I went on the offensive.

  “What the hell was all that, Sam?”

  “I thought it was what you wanted.”

  “Maybe it was, but we’d never discussed it.”

  “There wasn’t an opportunity to discuss stuff, was there? It all just happened.” Her voice was tinged with just a little sarcasm and a little regret.

  She had a point. I had half implied that the idea of seeing her with another man held some appeal and we hadn’t had a chance to discuss our feelings about it. Charlie had strongly recommended that we talk about this stuff before doing anything and we’d ignored her good advice. It was just that we weren’t the kind of couple who could comfortably have that kind of discussion. And look where it had led us.

  “We need to have a serious chat about this Sam.”

  “I know we do, but not now. I don’t think either of us in in a frame of mind where we could have a reasoned discussion.”

  That sure sounded like the quantitative analyst I’d married.

  “When we get back to Singapore then, or even when we get back to Austin.”

  “Agreed.”

  We pulled off our clothes and, for some reason, the sight of my wife’s naked body inflamed me beyond belief. Even Sam let out an appreciative sound.

  “That looks good enough to eat,” she whispered in my ear as she sat down on the edge of the bed. I stepped towards her, and she did something I’d never seen before. Rather than take my cock in her hand, she just sat there and passively opened her mouth wide. It was as if she were encouraging me to fuck her mouth. I slid my hardness between her lips, and she closed them around my rigid length. Sam has never been able to take me very deeply, but I was as far into her as I’d ever been. The feel of her tongue, lapping at the underside of me was almost enough to have me exploding in her mouth. But that wasn’t what I needed. I desperately wanted to be inside my wife’s pussy. To reclaim her as my own.

  I pulled out from the delicious warmth of her mouth and pushed her back onto the bed. I could see from the sparkle in her eye that she wanted the same thing. As I looked between her legs, the wetness of her pussy made it equally obvious. Without any preamble, I lined up the head of my cock with her waiting core and, in one smooth push, I was deep inside her.

  “God, yes, Jake. I want you so much. I need you to fuck me hard.”

  It was almost as if she felt she should be punished. I started to pound myself into her.

  “Just answer me one thing,”

  “Ungh,” she grunted.

  “Did Javier have his hand on your bare ass?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did he touch this wonderful soft side-boob that I love?” I asked, running my fingers over the perfectly soft flesh.

  “Yes.”

  “Did he fondle your breasts under your dress while you were dancing.”

  “Yes”

  I pounded harder and faster.

  “And, did he touch your pussy while we were sitting in the booth?” I was almost gasping out my questions.

  Sam’s voice was ragged and panting as she answered me.

  “Only through my panties… but yes.”

  “AND. Did. You. Enjoy. It?”

  As she screamed her answer through her orgasm, I pumped rope after rope of my semen far inside my wife.

  “YEEEEES.”

  Chapter 5 – The Studio

  The rest of our familiarization trip to our new home was spent dealing with logistics for the move. Our Ardmore penthouse was fully furnished, but Charlotte suggested that we go shopping for a few pieces to personalize it and make it our own.

  We had a great time getting to know the city. The knowledge of what we would be earning left us with no qualms about spending money. Even Jake, who has a reputation as a bit of a spendthrift, seemed to be into shopping for our new space. I even convinced him to buy new clothes that would be more suited to the tropical climate.

  We opened bank accounts and set up cell phones and did all the mundane things that needed to be accomplished. But, in short, we had fun. The subject of Bangkok wasn’t raised at all despite our agreement to talk about it logically.

  When it came time to fly back to Texas, we were already starting to think of Singapore as home.

  #####

  Back in Austin, we spent our time wrapping up our affairs and packing the few items that we couldn’t live without, so they could be shipped off to Singapore. Everything else was to be sold by an “Estate Sale” company that we’d hired. We didn’t own one single item that we thought would qualify for the designation of estate-worthy, but the company assured us that they’d seen much worse. We were selling almost everything and making a clean break. It was to be a new life.

  #####

  The relocation flights back to Singapore were a lot less impressive than our previous trip. We’d decided to use the Pacific route which was slightly quicker. Austin to San Francisco then a direct flight to Singapore. It is one of the longest non-stop routes in the world, at over sixteen and a half hours, but we somehow enjoyed the extended suspension of reality. All we could do was eat, drink, relax, read books, watch movies, and sleep.

  We arrived at Changi Airport at eight in the morning and our new driver, Samson Wong, was there holding a sign as we exited baggage claim. He greeted us warmly, although his English wasn’t the strongest, and told us he was taking us straight to our new home. That was a relief as we’d shared a mutual dread that Tony and Charlotte might want us to stop by their house for breakfast. Much as we loved them, we had no energy for socializing.

  As we pulled up at the front doors of the apartment building, the same two receptionist guys came rushing out to meet us.

  “Mr. Mrs. Fielding, welcome home. Is so good to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Charlie.” Thank goodness I had a good memory for names. Jake shook their hands, and they patted him on the back as though he’d just won the New York Marathon.

  Samson left the car at the curb, which was probably illegal, and escorted us up in the elevator to our new home on the top floor. Regrettably, I think Jake and I both registered a degree of shock when Samson flung open our front door, and we found two people standing there looking nervous.

  “So,” said Samson, “official introductions. I am Samson Wong. Driver. This, my wife, Winnie. Housekeeper. This, chef Jimmy Huang, pronounced Wong. Easy for you to remember.”

  We couldn’t help but smile at his attempt at humor. Our smiles brought wide grins to their faces. Samson, Winnie, and Jimmy. We were going to get along just fine.

  #####

  We had just one week to settle in before Jake would start his new job. He was chomping at the bit and could hardly wait to get going. On the other hand, I was going to be kicking my heels for the next two months until my approval came through from the Financial Services Authority.

  Ever since our arrival, Tony and Charlotte had been tied up with some acquisition that their companies were jointly pursuing, so we didn’t get to see them. However, they texted to invite us to dinner at their house on the Saturday evening.

  We looked forward to seeing our new friends again, and on the Saturday afternoon, I made a special effort in choosing the right outfit for the occasion. I chose a silk DVF wrap dress that Charlie had convinced me to buy on our first shopping trip together.

  When Sa
mson pulled into their driveway, they both came out to meet us, and we were all so eager to see each other that we found ourselves all talking at once. The babble continued until it registered with us all, at exactly the same time, and we dissolved into laughter. It was so great to have friendships ready-made before we arrived. Once again it felt like we’d all known each other for years.

  When we’d got over the initial excitement at seeing each other, we settled into their living room with our pre-dinner drinks to catch up on any news since we’d left them just a few weeks before.

  “Not much to tell, I’m afraid,” volunteered Charlotte, “we’ve been so busy that it’s mainly been work, work, work. Are you ready to get started, Jake?”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s more than ready. I thought he was actually going to pop into the studio yesterday, but somehow I managed to keep him away.”

  “Excellent. J and Paolo are doing a great job with the preliminary work, but we really need the expert to take the project to the next level.”

  I was afraid that bringing up the topic of work, with Jake in his current mood, was likely to take the conversation off into the Virtual Reality realm and then it would be close to impossible to rein him in.

  “Charlie,” I whispered, so as not to interrupt Jake’s flow of questions about the studio, “can I just use your bathroom before dinner?”

  “Of course, honey. You know where it is.”

  I climbed the ornate curving staircase of their beautiful old colonial home and headed for the opulent guest bathroom. It’s a room the size of a small apartment. A family of four could move in quite comfortably.

  As I was walking back down the stairs, I was stopped short by hearing my name mentioned. It was Charlie speaking, and I had to strain to hear her comments.

  “But Sam would be ideal. She is truly one of the sexiest women I know. I’m not even into women,” she laughed, “but for your wife, I think I’d make an exception.”

  The guys both laughed along with her. What were they talking about that involved a discussion of my sexiness? It was Tony’s voice that I heard next.

  “If you’re sure that, with a few minor technological tweaks, her face would be unrecognizable, do you think she would consider it? It would really solve a major problem and, I agree with Charlie, she would be perfect. Sam has that undefinable quality of inherent sexiness that’s combined with an innocence that stops her from realizing it.”

  So now it was apparent that two people in the living room thought I was the sexiest thing alive. It was all too much to absorb. I couldn’t stand there for much longer without them starting to worry that I’d flushed myself down the toilet, but I had to hear what Jake had to say. Tony’s question had obviously been aimed at my husband.

  “Guys, I really appreciate how you feel about Sam, and I agree, she’s desperately sexy yet a bit naïve. But I don’t think she’d agree to your idea. Of course, I could make subtle alterations that would mean she would never be recognized. It would be technologically simple. I just don’t think she would feel comfortable.”

  So, three people now proclaimed my sexiness but what was the whole “naïve” thing about. Hadn’t I been felt up by a young stud in a night club? I couldn’t really be away any longer, so I crept back up to the top stair and then made a big deal of noisily coming back down.

  Is dinner nearly ready?” I shouted from halfway down, “I’m famished.”

  #####

  Our evening with the Smithsons had been wonderful. Great food; comfortable conversation and just a little too much to drink. I’d kept hoping that their earlier conversation would be revived so I could get some clue as to why my “sexiness” was a topic of interest, but no such luck.

  Jake and I slept late the next day. His last day before starting his new job. Jimmy Huang had left us all the makings of an extensive continental breakfast, so all we had to do was flick the switch on the coffeemaker.

  As we sat there at the kitchen island, relishing the expansive view over the lush green of the Botanical Gardens, I took my chance to satisfy my curiosity about the previous evening.

  “Last night.”

  “Yeah.” Jake had his head buried in The Straits Times.

  “When I came out of the bathroom.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I heard you all talking about me.”

  “Oh Yeah.”

  “So, what were you talking about?

  “Oh.” He was clearly feeling awkward. “Well. Erm. Not much, really. You know. This and that.”

  “Hmm. I see. So, this and that required a comparative analysis of my relative sexiness. Got it. I’m with you now. Fully understood.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic Sam. It doesn’t suit you. If you must know J and Paolo have been talking to Tony about their difficulties finding blond models. They feel it’s holding the project back by weeks if not months. Charlotte simply suggested that, if I could adjust your facial features to make you unrecognizable, you would be the ideal candidate. You should see it as a compliment. They both see you as an extremely sexy woman.”

  “Oh, do they now?”

  I got up from my stool and walked around to Jake. I unceremoniously pushed his newspaper out of the way.

  “And what about you, mister. How do you see me?”

  He decided that words were not the best means of demonstrating his feelings. He pulled me into him and kissed me long, hard, and passionately.

  “That about sums it up.”

  “Hmmm. So, what would be involved.”

  #####

  Jake explained to me, in the most basic terms he could muster, that the need for a blond model was due to the difficulties of making post-filming adjustments to such things as skin tone and hair color. Apparently, facial adjustment tweaks would be the easiest thing in the world, and they could change as many features as I wanted in order to not have my face plastered across the internet.

  “Charlie actually thought it would be something fun for you to do while you’re not working.”

  “Charlie would think that was fun,” I agreed.

  “She actually joked that she’d love to do it herself if we hadn’t been inundated with more Asian models than we could handle,” he chortled.

  “Do you not see the irony in the situation though Jake? You are developing a game based around husbands willingly giving their wives into prostitution for the benefit of the goddess Mylitta, whereas you would be delivering your wife into the life of a porn star for the benefit of the god Capitalism.”

  “You would not be a porn star, my beautiful. It would be solely for the purpose of building simulations around hair color, skin color, shadow development, and movement characteristics. No one would ever know it was you. I could make you totally unrecognizable.”

  “Still sexy and sophisticated, though? If that’s how people see me now, I don’t want you turning me into some cheap tart with your “facial tweaks.” I tweaked his nose just a little harder than I should have, and he flinched.

  “Ouch.”

  “I would only have to do solo work, though, right? You don’t expect me to have anyone else in the studio?”

  “Of course not. Only solo. Just for hair color, skin color, shadow development, and movement,” he said, repeating the requirements, reassuringly.

  “I’d probably need to watch some girls in erotic videos to see what I’m supposed to do though. I’d not want to disappoint my public.”

  “They won’t be “your public” if they don’t know who you are.”

  #####

  We spent the afternoon on the sofa with Jake’s laptop. Identifying the correct search terms to get us sophisticated and sexy young women performing in a variety of solo sexual positions wasn’t that easy. We were on the site Pornhub when we found the perfect example of what I was looking for. A stunningly gorgeous woman lounging on a massive bed and putting on a show for her husband who was sitting in a comfortable armchair near the bottom corner of the bed.

  The video was alm
ost nine minutes long, and we watched intently as the woman writhed sensuously for her husbands’ pleasure. Her arms above her head she stretched out her body languorously in an almost feline way. We both agreed that this was the ultimate example of sexuality and watched with fascination as the woman started to pleasure herself. Her fingers moved between her legs and parted her lips before she played with her prominent clit and plunged two of them deep inside her pussy.

  “You wouldn’t want me to do that, though. Right?”

  “I’d only want you to do what you felt comfortable with. Movement and shading are going to be important, but you only need to go as far as you want. Remember though that no one will know who you are, so this is a chance to be a bit of an exhibitionist and with no accountability.”

  The woman on the screen ended her performance with what looked like a genuinely shattering orgasm and text faded in: “THE PERFECT WIFE.”

  “Wow, she was hot. I don’t know that I could achieve that level of performance. I bet you’d agree that she was THE PERFECT WIFE.”

  “She was certainly something else.”

  “Search for the term Perfect Wife and see what else comes up.”

  Jake typed the term into the search box on the Pornhub site and scrolled down through the thumbnails. Nothing looked particularly inspiring, but a couple of titles caught my eye. The first was PERFECT FACIAL.

  “Click on that one.”

  “I thought we were looking for solo performances.”

  “Sure, we are. But humor me and click on it anyway.”

  The clip was short. Only thirty-five seconds. But it showed a woman on her knees in front of a guy who was jerking his huge cock at her. As he started to cum a broad smile spread across her face and she laughed as stream after stream shot on her cheeks, ran down the bridge of her nose and clung languidly to her lips. She was covered, and she was enjoying it. I heard the low groan that escaped, involuntarily from Jake.

  “Did you think that was hot?”

  “Erm, sure. It was very visual.”