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Once Upon a Time in Singapore

12

Singapore could be a very cold place despite the wet heat of the tropics. The buildings along Orchard Road were sleek. The MRT sterile. The faces of the crowds blank, lifeless. Singapore could be a lonely place for expats and that's why I like to think these events occurred.

I first saw May in the morning at Raffles Place MRT station just off the Circle Line. Out of nowhere, well I should say out of the masses and masses of dense commuting traffic, this woman ended up in front of me. I'll never forget the black stitch that ran up the back of her nylon covered legs like two thin racing stripes over her sleek calves (the first thing I saw). Her heels looked to be too big for her to walk in and clunked around behind her. Somehow those cumbersome heels made her extremely attractive, slutty. She was a bright spot to the otherwise mundane morning.

She was heading in my direction and we both exited out into the skyscraper skies of the CBD. I could see her better in the tropical morning light. A black skirt hung from her wire framed hips. The skirt looked to be the material of silk, very thin, with sheer pantyhose beneath that. Her hair was dyed a light brown and cut short, just above the shoulders. Her hair was neatly layered and voluptuous.

I passed her up and caught a glimpse of her doll like face. Her eyes dominated her face. Bright brown globes that made every other feature of her face become small and just as petite as herself. Our eyes touched for a moment and then separated, skipping off each other as is polite in Singapore. Her brightness stunned me the way daylight whips the eyes when exiting a dim building. And then she was gone. Lost to the commute.

There wasn't any particular reason she stood out to me out of the countless millions I passed every morning, other than she was gorgeous. I saw woman like her everyday and they were forgotten as quickly as an exceptional sunset or painting.

The moment I entered the lobby of my office building I forgot about her. We were in the middle of an intense overhaul of the accounting department, with me at the helm of righting the ship. It was a stressful endeavor, especially since I was supposed to be in Tokyo with my family, but was instead down in this sweaty pressure cooker called Singapore.

I won't go into the details of what line of business I was in, but my company had suddenly fired its vice president of the Singapore division after a series of financial down sets. Since I was about to commence a month long overlay in Tokyo before fully taking over the Japanese division, and the residing vice president was very content there, I was directed to Singapore to fix the problem. One week had turned into two months, and it still didn't look like they were ready to send me to my destination.

I got to my corner office on the fifty-ninth floor and called my wife. A ritual we'd established since my arrival in Singapore. She updated me about the search of potential apartments she'd seen. We still hadn't found a spot, something she'd probably have to do on her own since I was being held hostage in Singapore by the Asian COO of my company.

"Any word on Tokyo?" She asked. It was the same question she asked me every morning. The same lingering tone of hope in her words. She shouldn't be doing this on her own, that was the deal we'd made before leaving the United States: she wouldn't be on her own in a foreign country.

"Not yet. Mr. Chow is supposed to be in town. Maybe if I see him in person it will sound a little more convincing that an e-mail."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

After our conversation I hung up my phone and dug in for the day. I had a rigid routine, which didn't comprise of much, being that I was a high ranking member of senior management.

There were two camps in this office; most kept their heads down and tried their best to stay away from me, being I'd swung the heavy ax that had laid off half the department upon my arrival. The other camp was the brown nosing office politicians.

Mr. Wang happened to fall into both camps. This ambitious young man wanted the top spot when I left. And after weeks of delay here dealing with incompetent candidates, I was ready to give it to him. His only problem, like most successful people starting out, was his youth. He was in his mid twenties and didn't have the experience necessary for the position.

Wang entered my office with a quick knock on the wooden door. His round face appeared just around the mahogany door frame.

"Sir, will you be making it to my dinner tonight? I didn't receive a response from you." He spoke accented English that was all but flawless.

Such an aggressive young man, I thought. I couldn't ever imagine myself as young as him, barging in on a senior manager and demanding a response to an email.

"Mr. Wang. Good morning to you too. How's the - account going? I still haven't seen a deal on my desk."

"I'm having lunch with their team today. I should have a better picture of what's going on by this afternoon. So...will you be making it to my dinner? Half the office will be there, even Mr. Chow."

"Oh, probably not this time. Sorry."

A large frown appeared on his face and he nodded. "I'll have another deal with - this afternoon." And he walked off.

I hated turning him down, but I wasn't up to an after hours office get together. All of that changed when I made my rounds through the cubicle laced hallways of the office. I was on my way to turn on the pot of coffee, which nobody except me and a low level accountant ever used, when I saw her: the woman from the MRT station.

Her presence stopped me in my tracks. How unusual it was to see her in my very own office. Of all the tall buildings in Singapore she happened to be in mine, and of all the floors of this building (all sixty-seven) she ended up on the fifty-ninth. She was clunking around in her absurd high heels. Clickety clacking over the bamboo floors. Her tiny wrists were cocked upwards in satisfying femininity. She hadn't seen me yet, but when she neared closer her saucer like brown eyes locked on mine and she lit up.

It had been so long since the sight of a woman had stirred my arousal so quickly. Her puffy pink lips, which were so innocent looking on her face, I imagined pressed against the swollen head of my cock. I shivered at the thought. My stomach swirled in excitement.

I felt like a teenager. I knew it was because it had been so long since I'd seen my dear wife. Long nights without sex, combined with her young fresh beauty, had driven me to this point I concluded.

I nodded to her, encouraged by the powerful lust that had suddenly risen up in me. She stopped walking and smiled. I don't believe she was wearing any makeup. A few brown moles dotted her otherwise smooth milky white face. A brown wisp of hair fell across her brow.

"Good morning." She said. "I looking for Mr. Wang."

"Mr. Wang? You're here for Mr. Wang?" That woke me up. What could she want with Mr. Wang?

"Mr. Wang. Yes." She nodded her head dramatically and smiled hard.

"Here, I'll lead you to his office."

She nodded very enthusiastically and followed me. The sound of her footsteps clacked behind me.

"I think I saw you at the MRT station." I said, slowing so that we were side by side.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes. I saw you. You work for him?"

"No. Quite the opposite. He works for me. I'm the big boss here."

"Oh." She smiled at me again, this time very conservatively, not the shining one she'd given me before.

I knocked and opened the door to Wang's office. He was at his desk, feet on the table. He saw me and quickly swung his feet from the desk, straightening up.

"Sir..." He said clearing his throat.

The woman walked in behind me and I saw a look of even greater surprise on his face, then a smile.

"May." He said, then spoke in rapid Mandarin. She answered in Mandarin.

"This is my wife. Seems as though I'd forgotten something at home."

"Oh, well I'll excuse you two then." As I nodded and headed out I caught the flowery perfume of May and something happened:

"Wang, I'll be there at your dinner."

#

Wang came from money. There was no way he could have otherwise afforded the penthouse suite at the top floor of his apartment building. We removed our shoes at the door. A wicker shelf held about fifty shoes, all of them either loafers or heels.

I don't know what made me change my mind about the dinner, well, yes I do, it was May. I wanted to be around her again. It was stupid, I know it, but I wanted to have that feeling of lust again. All day before the dinner party I couldn't get my mind off her. Yes I was disappointed with myself, I was married after all, and not only that but she was the wife of one of my subordinates; but I reasoned that it was pure fiction. A byproduct of sexless nights.

I may have come a little underdressed. Everyone was wearing collared shirts and slacks. While I on the other hand, the casual American, came in shorts and flip flops-though my shirt was collared.

"I didn't know it was a formal." I said.

"Oh, don't worry boss." Wang said to me with a bright red face. "Come in, come in." He held a wine glass in his hand. "May, pour another glass of red." He called to his wife.

I kicked off my flops and lined them up with the other guests shoes. His wife came over to us and handed me a wine glass. She wore a tight fitting red cocktail dress that hugged her upper body and flared out from her waist. It was a very short dress that made her look slutty. Wang always talked about how his wife was such a conservative prude, I was surprised to see she was wearing something so revealing; black stockings again, patterned with darkened diamonds and lines, forming a sort of checkered pattern. Her hair was in a cute brown bob that hugged the lines of her jaw. Her eye lashes were very long and ink black, accentuating her gigantic eyes. She had a sexy cartoonish look to her that night.

When she arrived with the glass she failed to look me in the eyes and scurried off before I could say anything but thank you.

I followed Wang around greeting the guests, talking business. We ended up on his large balcony overlooking the glowing city. A few of them enjoyed listening to me talk about America. Most were mid level executives who'd been to New York and Los Angeles. The Singaporeans are well informed about American news and culture, like most of the world.

"I'd like to go there one day." Wang said, stirring his wine glass and pointing it out to the city.

"And why haven't you?" A short finance counselor asked. "You've got quite the view here, surely you can afford a trip to America."

"Work. I'm too busy working."

By now I could catch a slight slur in his excellent English.

"Ah, well, we should send you on a business trip soon to Silicon Valley. You and the wife."

"Really?" The words came from behind me, but right away I knew it was May.

"Yes. Would be nice wouldn't it? We'd expense it all. You play golf, Wang? You can hit up Pebble Beach."

"That would be fun." May said.

"May, why don't you be a good wife and go get us some more drinks." Wang said, his voice turning cold. He muttered something equally sharp in Mandarin.

His anger took me by surprise, but the others acted as if nothing had happened. As soon as she left he started up a conversation about how he acquired the property. He was getting quite drunk, and I didn't think he'd notice if I slipped inside.

The apartment was finely furnished. A lot of great looking art and asian themed furniture. I saw May in the kitchen. I pretended to be looking at one of the paintings on his wall, but really my eyes were glued to her small bottom as she served drinks. I walked over to where she was and startled her.

"You need help?" I asked.

"No...well, yes, I need some bottles from the wine room." She gave me a short smile and led me past the living room and down a dimly lit hall way. Her perfume followed her.

At the end of the hall she opened one of them and turned on the light. Bottles lines three sides of the room.

"What are we drinking?" I asked.

"Doesn't matter, don't pick one from top."

"Those are the expensive ones?"

"His father gave him those."

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you do for a living? You have a very nice apartment. One I don't think I could afford."

"I'm not working right now. His father left him some money. He was in the banking industry."

She looked very pretty under the dim light. Two diamond earring sparkled from either side of her white face. I noticed she didn't like to maintain eye contact with me, constantly looking down, as if she were awaiting a scolding for something she'd done.

"How long have you two been married?"

"Three years."

"Ah, the first couple of years are the best. I've been married for ten years now."

"Oh, and your wife...is she in Singapore?" Her eyes flitted to mine for a moment, then away.

"No, Tokyo. She's waiting for me. Your husband is moving up quickly in the company. I see him having my position in a few years."

Damn, she was gorgeous. Her gigantic eyes twinkled. Her smooth skin looked fresh and youthful. Just being so close to her, smelling her perfume, inches from her petite asian femininity...it drove me wild. It dropped my heart to my stomach like a school boy. It raised the hairs on my arms in nervousness. I just wanted to touch her.

"He really wants it. He doesn't like having to rely on his father money-"

"I like this dress you're wearing." I said. "May I touch the material?"

I didn't wait for a response. My hand reached out and landed on her right hip. For a moment her eyes bulged and I realized that I made a mistake.

A silence flooded the room and threatened to drown us both. I could feel it in her eyes, not that she wanted me to touch her, but that she wouldn't tell me no either.

"What kind of fabric is it? I'd like for my wife to wear something like this, but I don't think she has the guts to wear something so short. It's very sexy, May."

There it was, I'd crossed the border and waited to see how things would play out.

She kept her eyes on the glasses of wine in front of us, her head slightly lowered as if I weren't speaking at all. I took this as a green light, as wrong as it was.

Gradually, I ran my fingers down the silky dress, to the hem above her knees. A sense of sexual power coursed through me. A masculine sense of authority over this meek Chinese housewife.

"Your stockings are nice. Are they stockings or pantyhose? I'm guessing pantyhose, since I don't see any tops."

Her mouth opened a bit, but closed and she licked her lips. "Panty...pantyhose." She said, still not looking at me.

I could tell she wanted me to leave her alone. Why couldn't she just tell me to stop it? I pushed my hand forward and the tips of my fingers brushed against her knees, against the nylon fabric.

"I love the pattern you have. Not enough woman wear them in California where I'm from."

She didn't move or react. Geez, woman, I thought, a man who isn't your husband has his hand nearly up your skirt and you haven't told him to stop?

I brushed her flesh gently. The pantyhose created a static buzz under my finger tips. I rounded her small knee caps and gave a gentle squeeze.

"Did you go to college?"

My hand crept upwards, slowly, till I had my hand on her thigh.

"Yes."

"Is that where you met, Wang?"

I could look down and see that my hand was up her skirt, it bunched up where my wrist was.

"Yes."

My hand traveled behind her right thigh. Her flesh was tight, a drastic change from the fleshy familiar form of my wife. I could almost wrap my hand entirely around May's thigh, that's how petite she was.

"What did you major in?"

Was this really happening? Could I have my hand up this woman's skirt and she wouldn't even mind?

"Business."

The backs of her thighs were soft, warm, forbidden. Her muscles tightened at the feel of my invading fingers. I thought about going between her legs, but instead went further north. Over a jutting curve of rounded buttock to her ass. Her cheeks were so small. Each cheek was rounded, yet had no jiggly flesh, just tightened skin over her small muscles. The pantyhose material was thicker here. I worked my palm over the silky material encasing her lower body.

I must stop, I told myself. I'm married-she's married...but here was this beautiful young Chinese woman standing before me; not protesting a thing; acting as if we were having a normal conversation and my hand was a million miles from under her skirt.

The way she took my sexual advances in stride made me think I could fuck her right there in the wine room. God, it'd been so long since I'd made love to my wife. I missed the touch of a woman, but this secret intimacy was much more, much more addicting than lust.

I gave her ass a small squeeze. The squeeze startled her, waking her from the trance she'd been in.

Her hand went to my arm and she pulled it away, then twisted herself away, so that sadly my hand was free from under her skirt.

"I'm married." She wouldn't look at me.

"What color are your panties, May?"

"We need to go back out there."

"I'm just going to see what color they are, then we can go, is that okay?"

She didn't answer me. Her eyes were focused ahead of her, studying the bottle of wine that she held in her hand. I was nothing more than a specter to her; a ghost. She couldn't acknowledge me. She wouldn't. If she remained perfectly still I would go away.

I stepped closer to her and grabbed the bottom of her skirt. I lifted it up. She didn't move. Not a word from her mouth. Not a glance from her eyes. If she didn't react than it couldn't be real.

The bottom of skirt rose higher and higher above her tinted shiny thighs. The pantyhose turned darker the further her skirt rose. A tiny red thong hidden amongst her snow white flesh.

"Red." I said. "You have such a nice small ass."

I pulled away, pulling her skirt down, covering her back up.

"Let me help you with those glasses." I reached and took them from her and walked out of the room. I thought she would follow behind me, but she remained behind. For a few minutes I lived in terror as I wondered what would happen next. In Singapore the laws were strict and I would be in major trouble if she made an issue out of it.

But after a couple of panic stricken moments she reappeared, fresh faced and as cheery as ever. She refused to make eye contact with me. When she finished serving up drinks she stood next to Wang, wrapping an arm through his. I couldn't keep my eyes off her legs and small feet.

It wasn't much of a dinner party, more an appetizer party. There was plenty of sushi and tapas. Wang wanted very much to stay by my side, which I had no objection, since May clung to him. I found it very pleasing to know that minutes earlier I had my hand up his wife's skirt.

"So May tells me she went to college with you." I asked Wang.

"Yes, we met there." He said, turning and nodding proudly to his wife. May caught eyes with him and smiled.

"You both majored in Business?"

"Yes. National University. I dated one of her friends believe it or not. That's how we met. She stole me from her."

"That's not what happened." May said. "They'd been broken up for a while."

"She majored in Business too? Why isn't she on our team, Wang?" I asked.

"Oh, she doesn't want to work. She doesn't have it in her. She just spends my money. That's her job. The job of all wives, isn't it?"

"So, May, it's true you don't want to work?" I asked her. The first I'd spoken to her since I'd lifted her skirt up.

"No."

"See." Wang said.

"I was thinking you could train her to help you with your daily tasks, you know the minor things and...well, maybe you can start to take over some of mine. I'm leaving soon, I'll need to leave somebody behind who's competent."

12
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