Nia Ch. 04

Many thanks to Mriceman1964 for his help, advice, editorial assistance, and much constructive criticism (and the occasional WTF? question) about the story. I could not have got to this point with this story without all of the above, so thanks much, Mike! Also, thank you to all those of you who've been kind enough to read and tell me how much you enjoyed my work - no-one on this site gets paid for submitting their thoughts and ideas on this forum, and to get appreciation from such a very discerning readership is high praise indeed!

As always, if you liked this segment, please rate it, if you didn't, please tell me why - I do heed the comments made (except for the pointlessly rude, deranged or downright demented), and if there is a particular character or situation you think needs developing or tailing-back, please do tell me - I can't promise I will, but I do promise to at least consider it (unless it's totally bonkers, of course...)

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Excerpt from the private diary of Nguye't Morrison

Wed, 27th April, 2011

I haven't had a chance to update this since Saturday, things have been a little...hectic, shall we say. After Jamie gave me such a stunning Graduation present, he surprised me with a trip to Paris, and put a ring on my finger. I must show it to Julie and Shelagh, do a little gloating, well, a lot of gloating, the rock is enormous, or, as dad put it, bigger than a pimple on a pig's arse; he's such an old-fashioned romantic, how did mum resist him for as long as she did...

Jamie brought back something from his sojourn in Vietnam that made my weekend, in a 'this is terrible but it's also fantastic' sort of way; details of the sordid dealings of that animal who stole my sister when she was 3-weeks old. It made terrible, horrifying reading, and it made me feel deeply unclean, but it gave us a definite lead on where to begin looking for Hu'e, and it finally let me know the true extent of the pain and loss that man has caused. I'm not sorry to say that I feel a great deal of schadenfreude, 'Shameful Joy', to know that he's probably being tortured or raped in a hell-hole prison right now; sometimes natural justice does get a chance to work, and he's probably lucky at that; if it were up to me, I'd tie the rope and kick away the chair...

I gave Polar Bear the low-down on how to bend the law sufficiently to allow us to get married, he wants to know why I'm not running for Parliament, and dad's worried I'll take up bank fraud as a hobby, but I just wanted my Polar Bear to be aware that the clock's ticking; mum gave him the speech, the verbal equivalent of choosing to cut the red wire or the blue wire, and it finally percolated through; he may be a whiz at determining deep well yields and thingies, but when it comes to the realities of human marital customs,and the intricacies involved in planning weddings and suchlike, like all men, he's a complete arse-head; he couldn't seem to see that putting a ring on a girl's finger and thinking it ends there is not a good or healthy thing to do, especially if said girl wears stiletto heels and is willing, purely in a spirit of scientific enquiry, to discover if it's possible to push one though a man's instep and nail his foot to the floor.

Sometimes poor Jamie is all too living proof that the average man's head is a large echoing space, with only three active neurons; one each for football, beer, and scratching, all enclosed by a thick bony case that's a good place to hang his ears, that sometimes looks like George Clooney, but more often like Mickey Rooney.

Anyway, we 're waiting with bated breath for a package from one more of his mysterious, nefarious, nay, downright shady contacts in one of the world's lesser-known waste spaces, he refused to discuss it with Jamie via email, so it's obviously relevant and important enough to send by bonded courier. Apparently the man is some sort of Frontier Sheriff-type, hand never too far from his gun, 1,000 yard stare, all that stuff, and I keep asking myself; how does an oil prospector from South London ever meet shady characters like that, is there some sort of secret society they belong to, The Ancient and Elucidated Order of The Wandering Idiots, or is there a real Star Wars-type cantina out there somewhere, where some murky Han Solo-ish character waits for people like Jamie to show up? Enquiring minds want to know...

You're waffling, girl, stop it.

The Polar Bear is trying to look all nonchalant, but I've been able to see through him since I was 3 years old, and he's definitely keyed-up and excited; I know he's trying to keep me from getting my hopes up, but he really should give me more credit than that; I know that whatever happens, we couldn't be any worse off than we are now; we're currently in a state of advanced ignorance about where Hu'e went after she was taken, and if this package has no new information, we're still ignorant of her whereabouts -- it's not additive, we won't suddenly become more ignorant, no matter what, it just means we start looking again, and find someone else to help us, and fretting about it and clicking and drumming fingers on tables and pacing and flicking TV channels aimlessly does no good to anyone, and really, really gets on my nerves. I just wish he'd go to the pub, find an old school friend and get smashed, blow-off some of that excess nervous energy, because he's driving me up the bloody wall!

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This week has been the slowest week on record, every day since we got back from Paris has been one of those days where suddenly! nothing happened, and it's been fantastic. This is my first real break from work/study in 6 years, and Nia's not due to start her new job until May 16th, so two whole weeks of Nia and lounging around. What shall we do, what shall we do?

I had a couple of suggestions for her, but she deep-sixed those, she said it was impractical, that walking bow-legged into her new job was bound to cause comment; she's not closed and barred the bedroom door or anything; nor is she averse to more than a little wild whoo-hoo; she just believes I should give her a sporting chance to get away now and again...she did suggest I give my dirty mind a good wash, and get a proper shave while I'm at it, designer stubble works on Brad Pitt, on me it just looks...scraggy, like a badly-mowed lawn.

Nia killed some time by going to Lambeth Town Hall and filing a Deed Poll, a legal instrument to legally change her name, to Nguye't Laura Vienh Lo, mum's maiden name, this being Part One of her nefarious plan to outwit the Registrar when we registered our overseas wedding. With a few little tweaks and refinements, it was the plan she'd outlined in Paris, tested it out on dad, and gone ahead with putting it in motion. Hopefully we'd get the paperwork through in a couple of days, then we could book flights to Hong Kong for the purposes of getting married, so we'd just have a couple of days away; we'd pay with jet-lag, but it would be worth it.

I waited, impatiently, I'll admit, for my package from Thawip in Thailand, he said it would be interesting, and he gave me the name of a bloke in the HKPF, the Hong Kong Police, which intrigued me; it's a bit of a leap from Luang Prabang in Laos to Hong Kong, maybe if this bloke had something to tell me it would be worth going out to see him; I had an appointment with Aboitiz Geotech-Orient in Tagbilaran City, in the Philippine Visayas, in late May, looking at offshore gas extraction possibilities in the Camotes Sea, maybe I could reschedule and hop over to Hong Kong to kill two birds with one stone, it's only a little over an hour from Manila to Hong Kong. I decided to see if this package merited meddling with my schedule.

I did know one thing though; if I went out to Hong Kong, no way Nia was coming with me; I didn't like the idea of her getting it into her head to do a bit of sleuthing while she was out there, the authorities take a dim view of that sort of free-enterprise, that's what the HKPF and the PAP (People's Armed Police) are for, and they don't appreciate amateur interference; they have an unfortunate habit of speaking English right up to the point where you need to explain yourself then they suddenly stop understanding English and start writing out your confession in fluent Mandarin...

Nia, of course, will definitely refuse to see it that way. Amongst her many adorable traits is a doggedness that sometimes flares up into outright rebellion, hopefully she'd stay quiet and do the think-work, let me do the leg-work, maybe we'd meet somewhere in the middle. I decided to pop into the office later, see if I could switch things around, once this package got here and Nia had a chance to digest what, if anything, it actually meant.

Saturday morning passed into Saturday afternoon, and just as I was thinking that it wouldn't arrive until Monday, the doorbell chimed. When I opened the door, a man in a courier uniform stood there holding a bulky sealed package. I signed for it and tore the packet open. Inside was a thick wad of photocopied pages and photographs of various sinister-looking men, all holding number plaques, obviously mug-shots, maps, and copies of UN and American Drug Enforcement Agency reports and commentaries. All in all, there must have been 300-plus pages, more information than I had hoped for, now all we had to do was make sense of it all, and then maybe we'd get our next move.

Nia was delighted, she immediately latched onto the police reports, sorting them by date, oldest first, some of them dating back to 1980, and tying them up with the stack of mug-shots. After a while, one of the piles of reports began to refer increasingly to one man, a harmless-looking middle-aged man named Han Wu, sometimes labelled 'Jimmy', with an increasing number of references to something called 14K, and other references to something or someone called 'Kuomintang', which sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it.

This Jimmy character seemed to spend a lot of time being questioned in Chiang Mai, and had been granted numerous visa's to Laos, flying to Vientiane almost every month. He also seemed to take an extraordinary amount of holidays to Canada, flying to Toronto three or four times a year on a multiple holiday visa, and there was a DEA report linking him to something called 'The KMT'. He was linked with several of the others in the pile of mug-shots, with reports that tallied as to dates when they had all been in Chiang Mai, Luang Prabang, Singapore and Hong Kong at the same time, and many of them seemed to enjoy travelling to Canada almost as much as 'Jimmy'. These were just snippets Nia passed over to me as she read through and collated one report after another. I decided that the UN reports would make an interesting read. I was not wrong.

I was appalled to read that the annual trade in babies and children from South East Asia and China was estimated at $10 billion, a figure that paled into insignificance when the global figure was given as a comparison; $130 billion, a staggering sum, hundreds of thousands of children stolen, extorted or removed by corrupt officials and sold to middle-men, and taken all over the world, with large numbers of children being taken to Canada for adoption across the border, and there was that '14K' again. Children from Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, Myanmar, they all seemed to funnel through a group of societies with strange, exotic names; Shui Fong, Sun Yee On, Wo Shing Wo, Wo Hop To, 14K again, and KMT in the Golden Triangle. Uh-Oh.

There was also mention of a Japanese group, Kokuryukai, but what they were supposed to be I couldn't guess, the DEA reports mentioned them in passing, but that was all. So now I had a whole bunch of groups with odd names, and people who lived in Hong Kong but seemed to have lavish lifestyles in Singapore, liked holidaying in Canada, and spent a lot of time making short trips to Laos; were these people the Snake-Heads who bought baby Hu'e and sold her on?

My head was hurting now, and I could see Nia was starting to flag; information overload was setting in. I made an executive decision.

"Come on you, time enough for this later, I want to play!" I said as I grabbed her hand and took the sheaf of reports out of it. She looked rebellious for a moment, then grinned.

"I thought you'd never get round to it, Polar Bear, I was resigned to spending Saturday night reading police reports, I see I was mistaken; so now you got my attention, entertain me, you big beefy oilfield roughneck you!" she laughed throatily, instantly elevating my testosterone levels and making my libido tango around somewhere south of my navel...

Nia is a beautiful girl, and when she bats those big, blue, exotic almond eyes of hers at me I go all funny; well parts of me do; other parts develop a mind of their own, and the most insistent one was Jamie jr, who was currently making a determined effort to unfurl, climb out of my jeans and smack her on the forehead.

"I see you came fully loaded, Mr Oilman, planning on doing any probing with that there rig of yours?" she cooed at me, eyes dancing as I pulled her to her feet. She slid her arms around my neck and pulled herself close to me, kissing me softly, purposefully, very, very sexily, all the while rubbing herself firmly against the bulge in my jeans.

My hands drifted down to hold and clutch her perfect, taut little bottom, her cheeks like two firm peaches. I pulled her against myself, thrusting my groin into her, feeling her breathing hitch and slow down as she ground more purposefully against me. Nia has a way of grinding against me that makes all rational thought boogie right out of the room, and I was having a real problem focussing on my own seduction moves.

I slid my hands inside her leggings, savouring the feel of her warm silky skin, the taut springiness of her perfect little bum, and the warm dampness as I slid my hands further under to lightly caress her tight slit.

Nia jumped slightly, her lips curving against mine as she smiled, and I began sliding her leggings down, while she began fumbling with my jeans, trying to pop the button while I groped and squeezed her delectable little bottom and rubbed her slit more seriously, eventually sliding a finger into her.

She sighed at that, her hand on my zipper more urgent now. We broke apart so I could tug down my zipper, Nia pushing my jeans down so I could kick them away while I was hurriedly tugging down her leggings.

She pulled her top off to reveal her lovely little bubbies, coral-pink nipples already erect and solid, just waiting for me to bite and suck, and my best friend was seriously trying to uncoil and come to full mast, and Nia didn't help matters by grabbing hold of it through my shorts and grinning "Ooo, is this all for me, Jamie? How sweet!"

I lost no time in slipping off my shorts, and helping Nia take off her panties (she didn't need any help, but I do like sliding them off her, oh yes!), then leading her into the bedroom, Jamie Jr pointing the way.

Once we got into the bedroom, she kissed me seriously, her arms locked around my neck as she propelled me backwards, until the backs of my knees hit the bed and I went over backwards, with Nia landing on me in a lovely giggling confusion of arms and lips and pink jiggly bits. Her hand came down to fondle me as I licked and nibbled the first thing I could reach, one of her delectable pink nipples, Nia immediately squeezing me as I gently bit and sucked on the solid little point, firm and hard as the eraser on the end of a pencil. Her hand began to pump as she squeezed my cock, the feeling of her hand on me absolutely out of this world.

She leaned up and slid to the floor on her knees, kneeling between my legs as I sat on the edge of the bed, her hand still working at my cock.

"Stand up, Polar Bear, I have something for you!" she smiled slyly, making my cock twitch in anticipation.

As I stood up, Nia licked up and down the length of my cock, before kissing down my length to my scrotum, licking and breathing on me, before slowly sucking one of my balls into her mouth and gently rolling it with her lips, nearly making me blow my load there and then. She relinquished it and slowly sucked in the other one, doing the same, and I was reduced to counting backwards from one million to prevent all hell breaking loose...

She released me from her warm mouth and licked her way back up to my dripping cock head, lubricant pouring out of me and coating almost the entire length of my steel-hard cock. She licked and grinned at me, then slowly slipped her lips over the end of my cock, her head bobbing as she sucked, drawing me in deeper with every downward motion of her head, until all of my seven inches was in her mouth, her nose brushing the pubic hair at the root of my cock and my head in her throat. She began to work her throat, her throat muscles squeezing me as she gently squeezed my scrotum. She lowly withdrew me from her throat, to suck and lick at my sensitive glans, while I enjoyed the impressive view of her pale creamy back and her taut round buttocks as she bobbed and sucked at me, driving me crazy, my legs trembling as I tried desperately not to come, but I was fighting a losing battle,

"Nia...I'm... Oh God...! I gasped, as I passed the point of no return, and she looked up at me, grinned around me and pumped and squeezed me harder, driving me over the edge. My head swelled and twitched, and as I started to come, she pulled me from her mouth as my spunk jetted out of me, the first pulse hitting her across her lips, the second across her cheek. Six times I shot, each rope of spunk splashing into her beautiful face, until she was drenched in my seed, and I had stopped ejaculating. She popped me back into her mouth to clean the last trickles of spunk bubbling from me, and licked her lips clear of the semen that had dripped down her face, grinning wickedly at me as she did so. I sat down as my legs gave way, handing her something to wipe my spunk from her face and chest.

"That was ...amazing, baby, what brought that on?" I asked when I got my breath back.

Nia gave me that grin again. "Julie told me about it, said I should try it once; apparently men love it. Did you?"

My answer was inarticulate as I grabbed her, making her shriek and giggle as I tickled her. As I touched and rubbed and groped her, her giggles grew less, and her breathing deepened. When I stopped to let her catch her breath, she sat astride me, pushed me flat and kissed me like there was no tomorrow, putting all her considerable talent and inventiveness into it. She began to wriggle and squirm and rub herself against me, and I knew what she wanted me to do.

I pulled her down beside me and kissed her sexy little nipples, pulling the rubbery nubs between my lips to make her gasp and giggle, then licking between her breasts, and continuing down to her navel, tickling her little 'innie' with the tip of my tongue before dragging my tongue luxuriously through the small trimmed heart-shaped patch of pubic hair, loving the feel of the short, soft silky hairs against my tongue, before dipping my tongue into the apex of her slit, into the little furrow between the folds of her vulva where her hooded clitoris lay concealed .

Nia sighed and murmured softly as I gently insinuated my tongue tip into her slit and lightly licked her clitoris, feeling the little bud firming under my tongue, and her lips beginning to swell as her arousal climbed.

The warm scent began to tease me, the delicate, perfume of her arousal tormenting my nostrils and making my mouth water as I suddenly needed to taste her further, feel her against my tongue as I held her and fondled her warm flesh. I moved between her thighs, kissing and nibbling around her vulva, licking her at the apex of her thighs, that soft crease where her thighs met on either side of her pussy, gently biting and licking without touching her labia, making her shift and wriggle slowly, trying to push her vulva against my lips. Nia moaned softly as she moved against me, her need building as I teased and gently tormented her, playing a game we had played many times before.