Maid in China

She returned the kiss with fervor, her hands coming up to clasp the sides of my face -- but then the bell dinged, and the elevator stopped on our floor. We emerged, flushed and giggling, almost running down the hallway until we found our room.

As she shut the door behind us, I was already unbuttoning my blouse and shrugging off my overcoat. From behind, her hands circled my arms, and she bent down to bury her lips in the small of my neck, just above my collarbone. I couldn't help moaning, and she made a responsive sound in her throat, humming into my flesh. I felt my knees start to buckle.

Hastily, we scrambled for the bed, pulling off our clothes and tossing them around the room every which way. I gasped as her sloping white breasts came into view, tipped by brown nipples that looked thick and rubbery; I longed to get my mouth on them. Then she shimmied out of her skirt and I saw a dark black hairy triangle between her legs and my mouth watered in a way that I had never experienced before.

She pushed me onto my back and started pulling down the pants that I had chosen to wear out of the house. My hands were briefly full of her breasts, and then they escaped as she traveled down my body, baring my lower half to her shining, hungry eyes.

"Please," I said, panting with desire and the sudden activity of the past few minutes, "please tell me I can return the favor."

She looked up at me, her brow puckered in a question.

"Your fingers," I said. "On the massage table."

She grinned.

"One more first," she said, and buried her face in my crotch.

I yelped, and then made a sound in my throat that was somewhere between a growl and a purr as her tongue slithered between my folds and found a sensitive point, and my hips pressed down all of their own volition in order to hold my pussy even closer to her. Her hands reached up, and my hands met them, our fingers interlacing as she ate me. I threw my head back onto a pillow and gave myself over to the sensation.

David's oral technique had always been perfunctory, a hasty prelude to the main event; and earlier lovers had sometimes been better and sometimes been worse; but nobody had ever set off such immediate fireworks in my loins as this young Chinese woman was doing, in a lavish hotel room far above Hong Kong paid for with -- I was convinced -- money stolen from the Chinese bank account my husband had opened to provide us with petty cash during our stay in Chengdu. Even the thought of the theft, of David's consternation when he woke up -- as he must have by now -- to find me gone, of the complete dissolution of everything I had ever expected my life to be, contributed to the feverish excitement I felt as she ate me out. Nothing could be more illicit. We were on our way to being international refugees, criminals enjoying a spree with ill-gotten gains, and the crumbling of my respectable marriage, of all the money David had been projected to make which was what I married him for in the first place, of the approval of my family and everyone I had ever known socially back home, felt as though it was collapsing on top of me, and as my orgasm burst, flooding Yiman's mouth, I felt laughter burst from my throat in the same moment, reckless and wild laughter at the absurdity of the whole situation, at the unexpected freedom I now felt to act in any way I took it into my head to act. I had escaped; I could be anyone, do anything.

"Give me your pussy," I said throatily, and stuck my tongue out like a child demanding a treat.

Without a word, Yimin climbed up my body and straddled my face. Her eyes had a glazed look, as though she were drunk on my secretions, and she began to automatically rub herself on my lips as I used my lips and tongue to explore the first pussy I had ever come into contact with.

Kissing her folds was easy; it was what I had longed to do ever since that massage session. Licking up and down, and working my tongue into her sweet-juiced canal, came easily next. But as she ground her pussy into my upper lip, it slowly dawned on me that she craved clitoral stimulation much more than playing around with her labia. I sucked at the little bead of flesh at the tip of her folds and was rewarded with a long shuddering sigh and her thighs quivering on either side of my head.

"Can I make you come?" I wrestled my mouth free of her long enough to ask.

"Please," she moaned, pulling on her nipples with her fingers. I grinned, and went all in on her clit. Between suction and licking with both the rough flat and the pointed tip of my tongue, I soon had her squirming, and then bouncing, on my face. She began to say things in Mandarin that I couldn't understand, and I knew she must be close.

I kept up the rhythm that had made her speak in tongues, and at long last she trembled and gushed, pushing her pussy all the way up to my nose and making it briefly impossible to breathe as my mouth filled with her fluids.

"Oh... yes... yes... yes... yes...." she moaned, finally slipping off me with a look of pure bliss on her face. I crawled on top of her to kiss her, and she returned the kiss softly, licking her wetness off my lips with a gentle wonder at how lovely she tasted, which I made sure to reiterate to her in words.

"Not as good as you," she said.

"Better," I said, remembering my taste on her fingers on the massage table. She chose not to argue, but instead returned to long, deep, sensual kisses.

Eventually, both of our hands slipped between our squirming bodies and cupped, then fingered, each other's rapidly heating pussies. The second orgasm took longer for both of us, but being able to look into each other's eyes as we probed and curled our fingers to gorgeous, unmistakable responsiveness was if anything more delicious than pure oral.

We broke apart, panting, and agreed to stop for water. My stomach gurgled, and I confessed to her that I had not, after all, dared the dumplings. She insisted on ordering room service then, so we hastily showered in order to be presentable in hotel bathrobes when it arrived.

As we smiled at each other with full mouths over the chafing dishes on the little breakfast table in the corner of the hotel room, I finally decided to ask,

"How much did you get away with?"

She raised her eyebrows.

"You know," I said. "The money you took. That's paying for all of this. How much is left?"

Her eyes widened, and she sat back in her chair staring at me.

"It's okay," I said quickly. "I chose you. We'll go on the run together."

"On the run?" she said, as though the words were unfamiliar.

"From the law," I said. "David will be fine, He'll make ten times the amount next year. Did you clean him out?"

She sat up very straight and looked at me with a hard, set mouth and a deeper frown than I had ever seen on her face before.

"You think I stole money from your husband?"

I gestured to the hotel room. I couldn't understand why she was being so diffident about it.

"Well," I shrugged. "Come on. This isn't maid wages."

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

"Mrs. Blackwell ----"

"Victoria," I corrected. "Our tongues have been inside each other. Call me Victoria."

"Victoria," she said, unable to entirely repress a smile. "I was never just a maid. Your husband's company hired me to keep track of both of you while you were in the country. They suspected him of embezzling funds, and thought he would probably be more brazen about it in China. They were right. But they also expected that he would be funneling the funds through you, and I was able to assure them that you had no involvement."

I stared at her.

"Embezzling?" I said.

She nodded.

"That son of a bitch," I said, without heat. I had never really expected him to make that lot of money honestly, but since he was dumb enough to get caught, it certainly made it easier to cut ties with him publicly. My family wouldn't even be all that angry with me about the divorce, I mused.

"By now he has been arrested," she said, nodding to a clock on the hotel room wall. "The U.S. consulate will get involved, since they won't want to let the precedent of punishing a U.S. citizen for a Chinese crime stand. It will be a long and drawn-out affair." She smiled at me, and for the first time I realized why I hadn't gotten a series of angry texts from David on landing in Hong Kong. Chinese police would never have let him have his phone.

"And this," I said, looking around at the hotel room. "This was your payment for catching him?"

"Part of it," she nodded. "I've had some savings too. And I believe you have your own money as well."

I blinked. I had gotten so used to relying on David for everything, especially once we were outside of the American financial system, that I had forgotten all about the accounts my parents had set up years ago.

"We can go anywhere," I said. "Do anything."

She nodded.

"What do you want to do?"

I looked at the faint swell of breast I could see in the deep neckline of the bathrobe.

"You," I said, and reached for her.