May's Awakening

This is a short story that was requested by one of my readers, a Malaysian-Chinese woman, and is inspired by her own real-life interracial sexual experiences with an Englishman. I may continue this story in due course once some of my other projects are completed.

As always, all comments and feedback are welcomed.

HF

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(May 2010, Kuala Lumpur)

May Tan walked across the wooden deck with practiced grace, a calm that belied the weight that she carried in her chest. Normally she would have looked forward to a night out, a dinner at somewhere such as 'Ambrosia', an upscale restaurant in the Damansara Heights overlooking Kuala Lumpur, came far too infrequently for her.

Between her role as the Regional Brand Manager in Multilever's Personal Care Division and her household and family responsibilities, she had precious little time to herself. If it wasn't the latest quarterly report, it was chasing after her two teenage children, Wen and Ming. With her husband, Alex's career as a senior financial controller for a mid-sized tech company headquartered in KL consuming more and more of his time, it left little for the two of them.

Now, after nearly fifteen years of marriage, the forty-three-year-old woman felt tired. Burnt out. Exhausted from the demands of her job and her family. May knew that she and Alex were growing apart, pulled by their careers and family commitments. It had been months since they had gone out for dinner like this, weeks since they had made love. Actually, made love, not the hurried, fumbling attempts under the sheets, trying to keep the noise down so their children wouldn't hear.

Even tonight, a Thursday, had been a chaotic affair at home and the office. Alex had taken the children to visit his parents in Ipoh, taking advantage of Wesak Day to have a long weekend away and she had been helping him pack their bags that morning before they left. May had wanted to go but had demurred when she had looked at her work schedule. Those damn quarterly reports were due again...

This time was different to normal. Julian Hunter was in town. The Vice President of Strategic Partnerships -- Asia-Pacific for Multilever had flown out from London to spend several weeks in KL and the travelling around the region to visit the respective offices. Although they had worked together for the past ten months, this was the first time they had spent more than a few days together. The last week of meetings and visits with him had been... intense, to say the least.

For an ang mo, a Westerner, May had found Julian to be remarkably insightful regarding practices across the respective Asian offices. Despite the presence of so many expatriate staff across the region, he would never fully blend in; not standing 6'2" tall with salt and pepper-tinged dark blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. His rugby toned physique allowed him to dominate meetings through sheer physical presence but, to his credit, he was a good listener, mindful of the cultural norms of the region.

And of the workload the corporation demanded of their senior executives.

It had been he who had suggested that they discuss the quarterly reports over dinner, instead of another long, interminable meeting in the office. To her own surprise, May had agreed to the offer.

However, to get the report ready, she had to work back in the office later than she would have liked. Cursing under her breath as she'd hurried home to get changed into something more appropriate for dinner, she pondered why Julian would want to discuss work over a meal.

Could it be that he wanted to flirt with her? May knew she was an attractive woman; at least she had been when she was younger, before work and her family had taken their toll on her. An ethnically Chinese woman, she had found that her looks had helped early in her career, particularly when working with Westerners who found her exotic, as they had described it.

She'd flirted with several of them when she was younger, even kissed one at a work function, but had never taken it further. Her marriage to Alex and the arrival of her children had stopped any further opportunities. Would Julian want to flirt with her, she pondered to herself?

Perhaps... she mused. It wasn't as if she would object if he did. He certainly wasn't unattractive, with a ruggedly handsome face. It was that he was a Westerner, a White man. Someone different to her, to her world, her upbringing. She was aware from the discussions at work that he was divorced but knew little about him on a personal level beyond that. May had a feeling that was going to change over dinner.

Pausing at the mirror just inside the entrance to the restaurant, May quickly checked her appearance. Weighing 125lbs and standing 5'5" in bare feet, she was of average height amongst her family and friends, with the six-inch heels she was wearing helping to project a taller, leaner image that helped with her 34B-28-38 body. She certainly didn't wear these heels to work, but then this wasn't a work dinner, or was it?

May noticed the slight creases around the corners of her deep brown eyes -- each one telling a story of long hours at work, sleepless nights at home, all interspersed with the smiles and frowns that came from a long and happy marriage. Happy, she mused? She was happy, but lonely... unfulfilled. The passion had disappeared from the marriage, Alex becoming increasingly focused on his career, her on her own and the children taking up the remaining time.

She quickly ran her fingers through her shoulder-length black hair, professionally styled and layered with faint chestnut highlights -- a sole concession to her professional, corporate role that she permitted herself. Stylish and attractive, her hair delicately framed her face. She was still attractive with a light tan on her pale skin, but the years had started to take their toll. Laugh lines etched her once smooth features while a small patch of freckles sat near her collarbone, the consequence of too much time in the tropical sun as a young woman.

Her size 6 black dress was simple, cinched at the waist, the neckline modest -- but it traced the slope of her shoulders just enough to feel different from the usual tailored skirts, slacks and collared blouses she wore to work or the jeans and casual tops she wore at home. She had let her hair down. Literally. For the first time in weeks. All for this dinner.

What are you doing here, May? The question she asked her reflection remained unanswered. Perhaps there was no answer to what she was doing here. For the first time, in a long time, she was simply... being. Being a person. Being a woman. Not a wife. Not a mother. Not a corporate executive.

Taking a deep breath, she turned and continued into the restaurant, pausing at the maître d' at the front counter. A waitress was summoned and led her into the restaurant where Julian was waiting.

As she approached, May saw Julian already seated at the table, his back straight, fingers lightly curled around a glass of water. He looked up, and stood as she approached, an easy smile already appearing on his attractive face.

"May," the Englishman said, with that smooth, relaxed tone and clipped, refined accent that always caught her off guard, even when discussing P&L statements. "You look..." he paused, "... far too elegant for a work dinner."

May laughed, soft and polite, lowering herself into the seat across from him as the waitress hurried off to get one of the more senior wait staff to come over to take their order. "I don't get many chances to dress up unless it's a wedding or a client launch," she said in perfect, but accented, English as she smoothed the hem of her dress. "Besides, I was hoping to impress the Vice President of Strategic Partnerships," she said with a smile.

Julian smiled back at the Chinese woman -- a modest, appreciative smile but there was something in the way his eyes lingered on her. Not inappropriate. Just aware. Aware of who she was and perhaps what she was missing in her life.

"I'm already impressed," he replied, focusing on both his menu and May. "You've been holding Multilever Malaysia's personal care division together through Q1 and you've set us up with a pipeline that will carry through to 2011 and beyond. Trust me... this dinner's long overdue."

May picked up her menu, hiding the slight flush she felt at his praise. "Well, we're both overdue, I think," she said as she scanned the menu.

A few moments later, a waiter approached their table. They ordered lamb tagine for her, grilled sea bass for him, and a bottle of Pinot Noir to share. Once the waiter left, Julian leaned back slightly, folding his hands in front of him.

"So, May..." he said, almost contemplatively. "Tell me... how does a woman like you manage a regional portfolio, family... you've got what... two kids? And still make it look effortless?"

She gave a light smile, relaxing somewhat in his presence. "That's a dangerous question, Julian. Flattery might lead to more work being added to my plate."

Julian let out a small, honest laugh. The sound placed her at ease. This wasn't like the formal, intense business dinners she was used to. This was more like two friends, companions, sharing a meal. "I'm genuinely curious," he said. "I struggle to keep my plants alive when I'm traveling."

May looked away for a second, exhaling through her nose. A sigh of tension being released. How could she explain what she did, what she went through on a daily basis, the expectations she had to live up to in her culture? To him, her boss, a White man.

"I... I suppose I've just... learned to compartmentalize. And I've had practice. When you're a woman in this industry... here in Malaysia... and a mother, it's... it's just survival. Every day."

There was a beat. He didn't respond with a quip. Instead, he nodded slowly.

"And your husband helps?"

May hesitated just a little too long. How much do I reveal? It already felt like she'd told him more than she should, more than she'd ever discussed with one of her bosses. But there was something about his calm, relaxed expression.

It was so unlike the intensity that Alex brought to every conversation, the way that he was always pushing her, pushing the kids, to live up to some new standard or expectation of performance.

With Julian, for some reason, she felt that he would accept her for who she was, no matter what.

"He's... trying," she said. "He's taken the kids to Ipoh for a few days to visit his parents. For Wesak Day holidays. I had to stay back for this." Her dark brown eyes met his blue eyes. For a moment longer than she expected. "Which is not a complaint."

Julian held her gaze, letting the silence between them breathe. May felt her heart beat a little faster in her chest. Could this be more than a dinner?

"I'm glad you came," he said after a moment, his voice low but firm. Comforting, even. "I've been looking forward to this."

She felt it then. That pulse at the base of her throat. A warmth spreading across her chest -- it had been months since anyone had looked at her like this. Not even her husband, who had become more roommate than partner, passing her at the dinner table like one of his business associates. No more tender glances. No more touches that lingered. Lovemaking that was more about going through the motions, the routines long established in their marriage, but without the passion.

"You're not exactly easy to get time with," May said, smoothing her napkin, trying valiantly to remain professional for him. Her boss. "You have a reputation for being... elusive."

Julian arched an eyebrow, his blue eyes sparkling in the dim light of the restaurant. "Elusive?" he repeated.

She nodded, swallowing nervously, her mouth suddenly dry as she struggled to find the right words. "People in the office say you don't stay long in one city. That you don't stay in one role, one... place. You're the kind of man who's always got a foot on a plane."

"I used to be," he said. "And paid the price for it. Now I just know when to leave before things get stale." He favored her with a small grin.

She looked at him, amused by his candor. "That sounds like either wisdom or a defense mechanism."

Julian chuckled. "Maybe a bit of both to be honest."

Just then the wine arrived. Julian glanced at the bottle the sommelier brought and nodded, telling him to leave it. The Englishman poured for her first -- his fingers brushing the base of her glass ever so lightly. A subtle sign that he was interested in her.

She felt it. She felt it in the pit of her stomach, the subtle change in the atmosphere between them.

"So," he said, watching her as she took a sip, "you've been married for how long?"

"Fourteen years," she said. "Together for sixteen. Feels longer. Not in a bad way. Just... life happens."

Julian nodded; expression unreadable. But something in the back of her mind told May that he was reading her like a book, understanding the position she found herself it, testing her to see if she'd go further. "And he's in finance, right?" A professional question, but one that revealed more about her marriage than she cared to admit.

A nod from her. "Yes, he's a senior financial controller. Very steady. Very dependable."

"But?" His blue eyes held hers, waiting for her response.

May looked away, swirling her glass of dark-red wine. How do I respond? It's like he's reading me like a book...

"Do you always dig this deep during work dinners?" the Asian woman asked, attempting to shift the conversation.

"Only when I get the sense someone needs to be seen," he said softly.

May blinked at that -- his words landing in a place she hadn't let anyone touch in a very long time. A raw feeling washed over her. This was real, this was something not sugar-coated or buried. They were talking about raw feelings, raw emotions. Hers.

"Honestly?" she said, quietly. "Lately it's been more about routine than partnership. We talk, but mostly about school schedules or bills. We haven't had a real conversation in... I don't even know."

Julian didn't rush in with sympathy. He just sat with it for a few moments, contemplating her words.

"I know the feeling," he said eventually. "My ex-wife used to say I was physically present but always somewhere else. I thought providing was enough. Turns out, it wasn't."

"Is that why it ended? Your marriage?" May knew that he was divorced, it was one of those open secrets in the office. But beyond that she knew little about him and his ex-wife. Was she English, like himself?

"Partly. That, and we wanted different lives. She wanted roots. I wanted... I don't know. Meaning, maybe. I was chasing something I couldn't define."

"And now?" May asked as she gave him a quizzical look.

"Now... well, maybe I just want honesty. Even if it's complicated."

At that moment, the food arrived, and they took a few minutes to settle into their plates, letting the conversation turn to work topics as they ate their meals. But the energy between them had shifted. It wasn't flirtation exactly. It was sharper than that. Real. Intoxicating. A touch of passion in her empty life.

They were most of the way through their mains when a moment of silence came up between discussions on P&L statements, new marketing initiatives and restructuring options. Taking a sip of wine, May summoned up some courage. They had been having an honest conversation so far; how far would that continue?

May broke the silence.

"Can I ask you something?"

Julian looked up from his meal and nodded. "Of course."

"You've been here for what... four, five weeks now?"

"Closer to eight, actually," he said with a smile. "Taking in account trips around the region."

May paused, her stomach churning as she pondered the next question. "Have you ever dated a local woman? I mean, umm... not a Western woman."

He smiled at her as he laid down his knife and fork. "Is this market research?"

She tilted her head, half-smiling, though her heart was beating like a drum. "Curiosity."

"I've had... dinner. Drinks. Nothing serious."

"Because of work?"

"Because most people I meet assume I'll be gone in a few weeks or a month. Or they want the novelty, not the man."

May looked down, cutting her lamb slowly, processing his words. How did he feel about her? How did she feel about him? If she made a move on him, would he think it was just because he was White? God... how can I think like that? He's my boss... she thought to herself. But something inside her made her continue, she wanted to know. She wanted to know how he thought about her, as a woman, an Asian woman.

"I've never been with a White man," she said, doing her best to make her tone casual, almost offhand.

Julian blinked, surprised by her words. Recovering quickly, his voice came back lower. "Is that a confession or a warning?"

She looked up at him, her brown eyes steady as she held his gaze. "It's just a fact," she told him.

He leaned in, elbows on the table now, wine glass cradled in one hand. He slowly swirled the wine, clearly contemplating where this was going.

"Does it... interest you? The idea?"

May felt her throat tighten -- but not with fear. With anticipation. For him. For Julian. A White man.

"I don't know," she said after a moment. "I've always done what was expected. Dated who I was supposed to. Married who made sense. Lately I've been wondering what it would feel like to do something that... that doesn't make sense."

Julian didn't look away. Instead, he fixed an intense gaze on the Asian woman, his blue eyes seeming to bore into hers, unravelling her and exposing her secrets. What she really wanted, what she really desired.

"I think," he said, "you'd be surprised how little sense passion makes. That's part of its charm."

She took a sip of wine to steady herself. She could feel her pulse beating through her veins.

"I... I don't want to be reckless," she murmured, doing her best to keep her composure.

"You don't strike me as the reckless type, May..." Julian said. "But I think... maybe you've been too... careful... for too long."

There was a long pause between them. The aroma of their food, the sounds of clinking cutlery, faint laughter from another table, and the slow saxophone music drifted around them. But it meant nothing at all to them, their focus was solely on each other.

"I miss being touched," May said, barely above a whisper, finally admitting what she was feeling.

Julian's eyes didn't widen. He didn't shift in his seat. He just met her vulnerability with stillness. Something that felt intensely erotic to her, yet he had done nothing... yet.

"Would you let me?" he asked, gently. "Touch you?"

Her eyes closed for a moment.

"I don't know," she breathed, swallowing nervously. "But I think I want to find out."

He reached across the table. Not rushed. Not hungry. Just... present. For her in that moment. His fingers grazed hers. May's hand trembled slightly as she turned it upward to meet his. His palm was warm, steady, larger than her husband's. She hadn't realized how long it had been since someone touched her without needing anything in return.

A few seconds passed. Then she slowly pulled her hand back, fingers grazing his one last time.

"I... I should go," she said, softly. I've gone too far already... she thought to herself. This was wrong, a mistake... I should never have come...

Julian nodded as May stood slowly, gathering her clutch. She paused beside his chair.

"You make it very hard to stay responsible," she said, voice low.

He looked up at her, that trace of a smirk back on his lips.

"That's never been your problem." He paused, then let out a little sigh. "Look, I get it... and I'm not going to pressure you into something you don't want... but..." He let the word linger in the air between them.

May was silent for a moment before nodding. Turning quickly, she walked away without looking back at the Englishman -- but the pulse in her neck was racing. And her heels clicked just a little faster than usual. I need to leave, she thought, otherwise... I don't know what I might do with him...

The Chinese woman made her way to the entrance, her fingers tapping at her phone, calling for a taxi. She didn't want to leave, but she knew she had to. He mind swirled at what had just happened. How did she let it go this far? Something deep inside her told her that it was what she wanted, but she had stepped away. Was that the right decision.

Less than five minutes later, May was still standing at the edge of the driveway outside the entrance to the restaurant, arms loosely folded across her chest, the warm, tropical night air clinging to her skin. She tapped her phone again. Dammit! Still no ride.

The street was nearly silent, save for the distant hum of a motorbike and the rustle of trees overhead. Her heels ached. She could still taste the red wine, feel the pressure of Julian's hand on hers, as if the warmth had embedded itself into her skin. Why did I say those things?

She didn't hear him at first. Just the soft click of his shoes behind her on the pavers.

"I didn't mean to ambush you at the table, May."

May turned. Julian stood a few paces away, hands in his pockets, shirt sleeves rolled up, blazer slung over his shoulder. He looked relaxed, casual. Was this how Englishmen acted out here in Asia? As if they had just stepped off the set of a James Bond movie?

"You didn't," she admitted. "I... I shouldn't have asked those questions."

He gave a quiet laugh, a relaxed chuckle, not one with any malice. "You did, though. But still--I meant what I said. I don't want to cross any line you're not ready for."

May looked away, blinking into the distance at the city lights. "It's not that simple."

"I know."

They stood in silence for a moment.

"No taxi yet?" he asked.

"Five have passed by in the last couple of minutes," she muttered. "Peak traffic's over but looks like no free ones are nearby."

Julian glanced down the street. "My car's not here either. I grabbed a taxi earlier to avoid parking hell. I got the staff inside to call me one. Want to share it back?"

May hesitated. A part of her wanted to say no -- to do the right thing, to keep space between herself and temptation. But it was getting late, the end of a long day. She was tired. And she didn't want the evening to end with tension and avoidance. Not with her boss.

"Alright," she said. "Thanks."

A few minutes later, a blue taxi finally pulled up. Julian opened the door for her first. May slid in, smoothing her dress beneath her. He followed, and for a brief second, their thighs touched. She shifted her leg. Not far. Just enough to not seem intentional.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"KL Hilton," Julian said. Then to May, "Unless you'd like to be dropped home first?"

"No, it's fine. I can ride the whole way."

As the car pulled off, May looked out the window, away from him. The city was quieter now, less crowded that during the day -- streetlights blinking past, golden reflections in her brown eyes. She could feel Julian beside her. The scent of the Englishman's cologne -- spice, cedar, something masculine, but understated, filled the cabin of the taxi. It felt relaxing, intoxicating. What am I doing here, she wondered?

"So," he said, voice calm. "About the product launch in Jakarta..."

She laughed lightly, grateful for the pivot. "Are we really doing work talk right now?" she replied, looking back at him

"It helps me stay focused, on something other than you," he said with a grin. "For at least another five minutes," he admitted.

May guffawed softly then smirked at him, suddenly enjoying the teasing. "Fine. Yes. Jakarta. We'll need final approval on the localization copy before Friday. My team's pushing the test campaign through tomorrow."

"Good," he nodded. "You're always three steps ahead, May."

"It's called insomnia," she replied.

He looked over at her. "Is that why you looked so tired last week? Or is it something else?"

She hesitated. "Both. Work. Home. There's not a lot of silence in my life," she admitted after a moment as she looked away, back out the window.

Julian didn't speak right away. His voice was lower when he finally did. "You deserve more than scraps of yourself."

May turned her head slowly to him. "And you think you know what I deserve?"

"No," he said, a contemplative look on his face as if he was evaluating her, her words she had spoken over the course of the evening, her attitude, her thoughts. "But I know what it feels like to go untouched for too long. Not just physically. Emotionally. Like you're invisible in your own life."

She inhaled, sharp and quiet. He knows what I'm thinking, what's going through my mind. About me, Alex... everything... May realized to herself.

The taxi hit a red light. Outside, a group of teenagers crossed the road, laughing. Having fun. Enjoying life. Inside, the cab felt suddenly too warm, too still. May shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"I... I don't know what I'm doing," May said, her voice low and nervous.

"You don't have to know," he replied. "You just have to want something more."

She looked at him -- for the first time that evening, maybe for the first time ever, she really looked. The faint lines at the corners of his eyes. The curve of his mouth. The patience in his body, like he was holding something back out of respect. He was different, exciting, alluring. He held the promise of something she had forgotten about for so long in her life. Passion.

Then May did something completely unplanned.

She leaned in.

And kissed him.

Her red-painted lips brushed his tentatively at first, soft and unsure. But the second their mouths touched; her breath caught in her throat. A bloom of heat pulsed through her, sudden and powerful. Julian didn't move for a beat -- as if in shock -- then he kissed her back, deepening it just slightly, his hand rising gently to rest on her nylon-covered knee. To May's surprise, his fingers didn't slide higher. They simply held her there, steady, as if reinforcing the connection between them, hinting at something more, but not pushing her for it.

The taxi kept moving, unaware of the intensity of the encounter taking place in the back seat, unaware of how May's life was on the precipice of a change that would alter its course forever.

When they broke apart, May stared straight ahead, heart thudding. The guilt flooded in, washing away the passion that had filled her only a moment earlier.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "I shouldn't have..."

Julian was quiet, his blue eyes on her. "Hey," he said softly. "You don't need to apologize."

"No," she said quickly. "This was wrong. You're my boss... I'm married. I have kids. This can't --"

"I know," he said, cutting her off. "I know. But don't act like that moment didn't mean something to you."

May's hands fidgeted in her lap. Her knee tingled where his hand had been only seconds before. The lipstick on her mouth felt too loud now, too red. Like she was some sort of harlot. Despite the guilt, she felt a lingering sense of arousal in the pit of her stomach as she shifted uncomfortably into the seat, now aware of the wet sensation between her legs. She always reacted this way when she was aroused, her pending ovulation not helping the situation either.

The cab began slowing down, approaching the entrance to his hotel.

They hadn't said another word when the driver pulled over at the sleek, canopied entrance of the Hilton.

Julian paid quickly, then turned to her before opening his door.

"Do you want to come up?" he asked. There was no pressure in his tone. Just the offer. Just truth. A truth she knew she had been seeking but was desperately trying to ignore.

May's lips parted, then closed. Her chest rose and fell once, twice. Images of her children, of Alex, all swirled in her mind.

But she didn't speak.

She simply nodded.

*****

May hardly noticed the glass, steel and warm lighting that filled the lobby of the Hilton. The cool air-conditioning washed over her, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin after the warmth of the tropical night outside. But she didn't notice. Her attention was focused on Julian as they walked side by side to the elevator, close but not touching, the energy between them having changed the moment she decided to leave the taxi. It was now fragile. Brittle. Electrified.

She knew what this meant. For her. For her husband and family. For him -- Julian. But she pressed on, nonetheless.

Inside the elevator, May leaned against the mirrored wall. Her reflection on the opposite wall stared back at her -- flushed cheeks, breaths coming low and fast, eyes wide and uncertain. She was nervous and apprehensive about what was going to happen. But she couldn't deny the knot of excitement that was growing tighter and tighter in the pit of her stomach. Across from her, Julian didn't say a word. He stood beside her, close, but not invading, his blue eyes fixed on the Asian woman.

The elevator dinged.

His suite level. The moment of truth.

She followed him silently to his room as he paused and opened the door for her. The suite was quiet, clean, cool. A living room with floor-to-ceiling windows, the city of Kuala Lumpur stretching out like a glittering ocean in the darkness of the night.

She stepped in, crossing her own mental threshold.

"Drink?" Julian asked, as he closed the door behind her and moved toward the small bar.

"Just water," she said, her voice almost a whisper. God, she was nervous. She swallowed loudly as she looked out the window at the night sky. What was she doing here? Could she really go through with this?

"Could... could I use your bathroom, please?" she asked nervously.

"Of course," Julian replied, motioning towards the suite's main bathroom. May nodded in thanks and made her way to the room, closing the door behind her and turning on the light. The bright lights dazzled her for a moment as she stood, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

She looked dazed, the golden skin of her face and neck flushed pink from both the alcohol and arousal, excited by the turn of events, but still with a sense of nervousness and lingering guilt over what she was about to do. Was she really about to have sex with Julian? Her body was seemingly convinced of that fact as she felt the damp sensation in the crotch of her panties, the feeling of her panty liner pressed against her labia.

I... I can't let him see me like this... she thought nervously to herself. Quickly tugging at the hem of her dress and rucking it around her waist, she pulled down her pantyhose and panties, feeling the liner sticking momentarily to her aroused folds.

Oh, God... I'm so wet... May thought to herself as she saw the evidence of her arousal on the now soaked liner, the absorbent material now glistening with whitish fluid. Hurriedly pulling the liner from her lacy panties, she used some toilet paper to clean her folds the best she could, wiping herself clean before disposing of the paper and liner in the rubbish bin.

Rearranging her clothing, she glanced again in the mirror, telling herself that Julian found her desirable, alluring and sexy, despite her own reservations. Yes, she was middle-aged, but here she was in a hotel room with a White man. A White man that she knew wanted to fuck her.

Taking a deep breath, May left the bathroom, turning out the light and closing the door behind her as she made her way back towards Julian who was still standing near the small bar, having poured her a glass of water that was now sitting on the bar's pristine surface.

The Englishman gave her a small smile as she approached, not questioning why she had used the bathroom. He simply picked up the glass in silence, then handed it to her without touching her fingers. He was cool, poised, collected.

May sipped silently, watching him. Has he done this before? Brought other women back here? Back to other hotels rooms around the world? Seduced others like her? Lonely women, wives, mothers, women who had been taken in by his handsome and rugged good looks.

"You do this often?" she asked, a little too suddenly as she broke the silence of the room. The words weren't accusing -- just searching. Had there been others like her in the past? Other Asian women? Was that what had attracted him to her or was it something else?

He shook his head, his blue eyes holding her brown ones as if entranced by her. "Not like this. Not with someone who makes me slow down."

She lowered the glass with a shaking hand, placing it on the nearby table, as if not trusting herself to hold it without dropping it to the floor.

"I've been faithful for fourteen years," May said as she swallowed nervously. "Even when... when I was lonely. Even when he wasn't there. I told myself it didn't matter. That marriage isn't about desire."

"And now?" the Englishman asked, an inquisitive expression on his face. She could tell he was reading her, deducing what she was missing in her life, what she wanted at this moment.

"Now... now I'm standing in a hotel room with a man I barely know... because... because, I want to feel something that isn't responsibility."

Julian stepped closer, slowly. Suddenly the spacious room seemed too small to her as if the walls had closed in. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. The distant hum of the air-conditioning system. And the thrum of her heartbeat in her chest.

"May, you can leave whenever you want," Julian said gently. "But if you stay, I'll touch you the way you've forgotten you deserve to be touched. Not just for tonight. For every moment that's been missing."

She looked up at him. Her lips parted, but no words came. Just breath. Heat. And, finally, a small nod.

Julian was silent as May took a tentative step forward towards him, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor tiles. A pause. Then another.

"I'm scared," she whispered as she continued to move towards him.

Julian's voice was gentle, reassuring, comforting. "Of me?"

"Of... of myself," she admitted. "Of how badly I want to forget everything else tonight."

His blue eyes softened as he gave her a little nod, aware of her internal struggle. "Then let me help you forget."

Julian reached for her, slow and deliberate, not rushing her or scaring her, his hands tenderly brushing the sides of her arms. She shivered at his touch, and he let his fingers trace featherlight over her skin, reassuring her, preparing her for what they both knew would come next.

Seeing the Asian wife's slow acceptance of her fate, the Englishman leaned in, and his lips found hers -- warm, deliberate, unhurried. Pulling her into him, to his world, to what he offered her. Accepting, she melted into him, letting the taste of wine and arousal flow between their lips.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against her mouth. Softly. Passionately.

"Relax, May. I'll treat you the way you should've been treated all along."

May's breath caught in the back of her throat at his words. Alex hadn't said that to her in so long. Ever, maybe. He was loyal, dedicated, the perfect Asian husband. But he wasn't passionate, not like this, not like how Julian looked at her, touched her, kissed her.

She felt his hands move to the back of her neck, thick fingers sliding up into her black hair, cradling her head, holding her gently but possessively. She whimpered in delight as Julian kissed her again, deeper this time, his muscular White body not pressing but aligning with her slim Asian one, drawing her in without force. Controlling her, owning her. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed May's lingering sense of guilt as her hands found his shoulders, gripping lightly, instinctively.

But as his hands drifted down her back, fingertips brushing the line of her dress, reaching for the hem, she froze -- just a little. A nervous thought flickered through the middle-aged woman's mind.

Julian noticed. Like he always did, it seemed to her.

"What is it?" he murmured, his lips moving to her temple now, a soft, moist sensation against her skin.

She hesitated, swallowing nervously as she stepped back half a pace. How... how do I say this... to him? She looked up into his eyes, her voice was small as she voiced her concerns and anxiety about what would come next.

"I... I'm not... perfect, Julian. My... body. I've had two kids. Things don't look like they used to," she whispered softly. He would be used to English women, White women who had time and money to look after their bodies.

Julian's brow furrowed -- but not in confusion, in tenderness, a soft look of compassion and understanding appearing on his face.

"May," he said, firmly, stepping close again, pulling her close so she could feel the beating of his heart in his chest. "You are more than beautiful. You're real. You're strong. Everything about you tells a story -- and I want to learn it all. Everything."

The Asian mother blinked, taken aback by his words. Did... did he mean that? Oh, God... please don't let him just be saying that...

He kissed her again -- softer now, reverent. And she realized he was telling the truth; he wanted her as much as she wanted him in that moment.

Seeing her reaction, her acceptance of his words, Julian's hands reached behind her, fingers delicately brushing the hidden zipper of her dress. But he didn't tug, not yet. He waited until her eyes met his again. Seeking her permission, her understanding.

"Okay?" he asked in his faint, British accent. May had found it amusing, even quaint, when she first met him. Now she found it the most appealing sound in the world.

The significance of the moment wasn't lost on her -- this was the abyss she was about to fall into. The moment of truth. She could walk away, leave, return him to her husband and family, forget about tonight... and her feelings for him.

She gave a faint nod.

He lowered the zipper slowly. The faint zzzzzzt sound filled the quiet room. His hands parted the fabric at her shoulders, easing the dress down her arms. The fabric slipped away, revealing the warmth of her pale Asian skin, the subtle golden undertone, the delicate curve of her collarbone.

Julian leaned forward and kissed her there. Lightly. Once. Then again. As if savoring her. Treasuring her.

Silently, the dress pooled at her feet. The shedding of the old May. The embracing of the new.

May stood in a black lace bra and matching panties, nude-colored pantyhose and strappy heels, her thin arms folded across her middle out of habit, instinct. It felt strange, foreign even, to be standing this way in front of a stranger. A White man, not her husband.

Julian stepped back just enough to admire her; his voice roughened by restraint.

"You're exquisite," he said as he slowly eased his jacket from his shoulders and tossed it on a nearby chair. Another item of clothing discarded, another step further down the path of adultery. Another step closer to nirvana.

May bit her lip, her eyes wandering up and down his body before returning to his face. She'd never realized how stocky and muscular he was. He'd always been dressed in suits, now he too was shedding his armor, revealing himself to her.

Julian stepped closer again, hands gently drawing her arms away from her body. His eyes traveling the length of her slim, golden form.

"You don't have to hide, May," he whispered. "Not from me. Ever."

He kissed her shoulder. Her upper arm. Her throat. Oh, God... she thought to herself, losing herself in the sensuality of the moment.

May's breath shuddered as his hands reached behind her, unclasping her bra. The straps slipped silently from her shoulders. Unresisting, she let the garment fall from her lithe body, eyes closed now, heart pounding as she gave in to his seduction.

She felt Julian's touch on her skin but, to her surprise, his hands didn't grope. They held her tenderly. His thick thumbs slowly brushed the curve of her ribcage, as if memorizing every curve, every line of her body. And then, his lips followed -- slowly kissing her breast, then the other, gently, reverently.

His lips lingered against her dark brown nipple, temptingly teasing the pencil eraser shaped nub of sensitive flesh to hardness. She gasped quietly, a hand reaching up to his shoulder, fingers curling into his shirt. She'd always had sensitive nipples, growing even more sensitive after her children had been born, most likely from her breastfeeding of them.

Please... please, don't stop... The thought echoed in her mind as she sank deeper into the moment, thoughts of her husband and family evaporating like dew in the morning sun.

To her surprise, she sensed, rather than felt, Julian kneeling in front of her, hands lightly gripping her waist as his lips trailed a slow, torturous path down her torso. When he reached her stomach, he paused.

He kissed her there -- right above her navel -- then lower, his hands holding her hips as she twitched subtly.

May opened her eyes and looked down at him, watching him. His eyes wandered over her stomach and the pattern of thin silvery lines that crisscrossed her skin.

"You see those?" she murmured, almost ashamed. Ashamed that her body wasn't perfect. Wasn't perfect for him. "Stretch marks."

He looked up, brow creasing in concern over her words.

"May, they're beautiful," he said softly, but earnestly. "They're proof that you've lived. That you've created life. Nothing." He shook his head. "Nothing at all could make me want you more."

She exhaled -- a long, slow breath that carried years of buried insecurity and anxiety, all slowly released. Years of being looked at but not seen. Seen as a wife, a mother, a professional executive. But not as a woman.

Julians fingers slid to the waistband of her pantyhose, and he eased them down slowly, along with her panties to reveal her pale mound and the neatly trimmed strip of black curls that led down to her pinkish-brown colored vulva. Now, to her embarrassment, a stranger, her boss, was gazing intently at the most intimate part of her body as a woman, the natural scent of her arousal wafting up from her crotch.

If Julian was surprised by the way her body was reacting, he didn't express it as he continued to tug the sheer nylon fabric down, tracing the shape of her hips, thighs, calves. He kissed each inch of exposed golden pale skin as it was revealed.

With her garments bunched around her ankles, he lifted her right foot, then her left, slipping the fabric and the shoes from her feet. Her shoes dropped to the floor with quiet clicks, her panties and pantyhose lying discarded in a bundle next to them.

May stood there now on the cool, marble tiles -- bare, vulnerable, her pulse thundering in her throat. She was naked for the first time in front of another man since she had met Alex all those years ago. It felt liberating, exciting, terrifying.

Julian remained on his knees in front of her, his large hands gently holding her thighs. He looked up at her, searching her face.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he said.

She shook her head, voice barely audible. She wanted this, wanted him. "Don't stop."

Julian nodded and leaned closer to her; his breath warm against her inner thigh. "Look at you, May..." he murmured, dragging a thumb along her soaked folds. "So, fucking perfect."

May flushed pink, both mortified and exhilarated by how openly her body betrayed her need. Her arousal. But, to her surprised and relief, Julian didn't seem to judge. Instead, he worshipped her, pressing a kiss to the dark curls covering her mound, inhaling her scent. It was so strong that even she could smell it -- musky, sweet, and unmistakably hers. She was a woman aroused, a woman in heat.

"Let me taste you," he whispered.

May shuddered. She'd never felt so exposed.

But Julian didn't rush. Slowly he lowered his face, his nose nudging through the neatly trimmed strip of black curls at her mound as she whimpered. She felt his fingers between her thighs, spreading them wider, his thumbs pressing against her labia, parting her slick, moist folds.

"Look at you, May..." he murmured, his voice rough and muffled against her pussy. "Already dripping for me."

Then, all of a sudden, his tongue was on her -- not tentative, not polite, but firm and possessive. A long, slow lick from her entrance to clit, savoring her like she was something rare, a delicacy to be devoured. Instantly May's knees buckled; Julian's hands clamped tightly on her hips, holding her upright and spreading her wider as he lapped relentlessly at her folds, flicking her clit and circling her entrance before plunging inside.

Julian moaned softly against her, out of excitement or joy, she couldn't tell, but the vibration made her whimper. This wasn't the perfunctory attention Alex gave her in their decade and a half together -- Julian feasted on her like a man starving, a moment later his fingers joined his mouth to curl inside her, stroking that spot that made her see stars.

The sound she made was half-sob, half-cry. Alex had never --

Julian groaned loudly against her, his fingers fucking her in shallow thrusts as his tongue rapidly flicked her clit. "Wider," he ordered, and when May obeyed, spreading her legs further, he rewarded her with a suck so deliberate her vision blurred.

The Asian mother's fingers scrambled for purchase on the Englishman's shoulders, her thighs trembling. She could feel the spring of pleasure inside her tightening, the ecstasy building like a wave about to break...

"Julian, I'm -- oh --" The words choked off in May's throat.

He locked his lips around her clit and sucked, hard, and the world around her shattered into a million pieces. Her back arched, her body stiffening as if a shocked by a powerful electric current as the orgasm ripped through her, her cries of delight echoing off the hotel room's walls.

Julian didn't let up, licking and sucking her through the spasms until the Asian woman was gasping, oversensitive, her nails biting deeply into his skin as she struggled to remain on her feet, her crotch grinding against his face, her thighs shaking as she eked the last drops of bliss from the moment. He only slowed, and then stopped, his ministrations when she tugged his hair in overstimulation.

Panting heavily, May staggered a few steps and slumped against the nearby table, her pulse roaring loudly in her ears. Julian rose from the floor, wiping his glistening chin with the back of his hand, blue eyes dark with satisfaction at how he had so easily and utterly unraveled the middle-aged Asian woman.

"That," he said hoarsely, catching her wrist to pull her close to kiss her deeply on the lips, "was just the beginning."

May could taste herself on his tongue and her stomach dropped. Not from guilt, not from shame, but from hunger.

For the first time in years, she had let herself want. And she wanted more.

*****

Less than five minutes had passed since Julian had eaten the Asian wife and mother out in a way she had never experienced before with either Alex or any of her previous lovers. Despite the intensity of the orgasm, May knew she wanted more. She could have pulled on her clothes, left and returned home, but she didn't -- the low, smoldering fire of desire that had been ignited by Julian was growing by the minute.

All she had done was catch her breath and gulp down several mouthfuls of water from her glass before moving as seductively as possible from the living area of the hotel suite to his bedroom. Julian had stood there, watching her.

"Are you sure?" was all he asked. She knew he was giving her an out, an opportunity to leave. She knew intuitively that, if she did, he wouldn't breathe a word of what had happened between them. But she didn't leave.

A simple nod in response to his question -- simple, but so powerful. It was as if she had awoken from a dream, awoken into a new world of possibilities, of pleasure, with Julian. And right now, she wanted to experience all that he had to give.

Entering the bedroom, she flicked on the light switch, her eyes falling onto the bed in the center of the room. The place where she was about to break her vows. Completely and utterly. But the thought didn't fill her with the guilt and shame that it had before. Now it filled her with nervous excitement and anticipation.

Slowly May climbed onto the bed and lay on her back on the soft mattress, the cool cotton of the sheets caressing her bare skin, the slight dip of the mattress cradling her hips as she settled comfortable, waiting for Julian. The room was illuminated only by the bedside lamp that bathed the room in warm amber light, and for a moment, she simply watched Julian as he entered the room behind her.

He stood at the foot of the bed, contemplating May for a moment before his fingers started to unbutton his shirt. Her body was still flushed and warm from her recent orgasm, her breathing uneven as she awaited what would come next. But it was the way he looked at her that unsettled her most.

Not lustful. Reverent. Tender. Appreciative.

Why couldn't Alex look at her that way? Perhaps he had once, she mused silently. Perhaps before life had gotten complicated, busy, hectic, full of work and kids. But that was a long time ago. Now she had a man looking at her like that again and it filled her with a warmth that she hadn't felt in years. Julian saw her as a woman, a woman to be desired, a woman to be loved.

When the Englishman began to undress, May didn't look away.

First the shirt, sliding off his shoulders, revealing smooth, pale skin dusted with a faint line of chest hair. Still defined but not sculpted. A man's body. Real. Warm. Different to the slim, almost boyish Asian physique of Alex. May let her eyes trace him -- his collarbones, the slight shadow beneath them, the flat of his stomach, the V-line that disappeared beneath his waistband.

Despite his age, she was aware that Julian had kept himself in good shape. She could tell there was some middle-age spread, but less than she had imagined. Part of her wondered what he had been like in his twenties, when he would have been younger and leaner. She felt a flutter of excitement in her pussy at the thought of a young, muscular 6'2" Julian bedding her, fucking her, riding her. Filling her Asian pussy with his White cum.

She swallowed as he unbuckled his belt and kicked off his shoes.

"Is this, okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

He pushed down his trousers and briefs, stepping out of them with quiet ease.

May propped herself up on her elbows, eyes drawn -- expectantly, inevitably -- to the part of him that had been hidden until now. The part of him she wanted most to see.

Her eyes widened in surprise. She felt her breath catch in the back of her throat, something that had never happened before, even her first time.

May, like all of her friends at university and work, had heard whispers, but she hadn't seen a White man naked before. And Julian... was more than she expected. His arousal stood firm, unmistakable, and for a flicker of a second, something between awe and apprehension crossed her face.

Julian's cock was thick, the kind of thickness that made her thighs tense instinctively in both shock and anticipation. Long, too, hanging proudly between his legs, the veins along his shaft pronounced under the low light. She'd heard whispers about White men, but seeing it, his pinkish-white cock, now hardening in front of her eyes -- the sheer, undeniable reality of him; the size, the girth, the bulk -- sent a jolt of heat and trepidation straight to her core, her body reacting instinctively as she felt her pussy moisten in response to the sight.

Julian caught her stare and smirked, but there was no arrogance in it. Just quiet assurance. "Still, okay?"

"Y... yes," May whispered, her eyes still transfixed on the pulsing tube of flesh that would soon join with her. My God... how am I going to fit that...?

Leaning over he quickly pulled off his socks, leaving him naked before he moved toward the bed, the mattress sagging slightly as he climbed up beside her.

"You alright?" he said gently. "We don't have to rush anything."

"I know," she murmured. Her fingers brushed his arm, feeling the smoothness of his pale skin, the heat of him. "It's just... different," she confessed.

His lips curved into a soft smile, giving her space and time. "Different isn't bad."

She let her fingers trail down his chest, resting them above his heart.

"You're not nervous?" May asked.

"I am," he said. "But not about this. Not about you."

The Englishman leaned in, kissing her again -- slowly, deeply and achingly passionate -- as he rolled into position on top of her, his hands braced beside her on the mattress as he hovered over her.

May's slim legs shifted beneath him, parting instinctively to accept him, a man who wasn't her husband. The Asian woman felt the weight of him above her, the difference in size, in presence. His Caucasian body was heavier, broader than what she was used to with Alex and her other partners, all Asian, but Julian moved with care, distributing his weight around her like a shield instead of a burden.

Then her hand lightly touched his chest again, a nervous thought having crossed her mind.

"W... wait, Julian..." she said, breath catching in her throat. "Condom?"

Julian stilled his movement, a nervous expression flitting across his handsome face.

"I don't have one," he said honestly. "I... I wasn't expecting... this. But I'm clean," he assured her. "My last test was three months ago. You?"

"Same," she said nodding her head slightly. "But I'm not on any birth control. I stopped after I gave birth to Ming, my son. Alex... Alex always uses condoms..."

Julian nodded, brushing a lock of stray black hair from her cheek, his fingers gently stroking her skin.

"I'll pull out, May," he promised with an earnest expression on his face. "You have my word."

She studied him. Something in his voice made her believe him. She wanted to believe him, but she still had so much to lose, so much to risk if something happened. May knew she was approaching her fertile time of the month, but part of her wanted to risk it with him, with Julian. She debated the risks in her mind.

Still, it took a beat.

Then, her hands reached up to cup his face. "Okay."

Julian kissed her again, his large Caucasian body beginning to lower onto her smaller Asian one. May gasped softly as he pressed the head of his cock against her, one arm curled beneath her back, the other guiding himself against her. Oh, God... it's really happening... she thought wildly to herself as she struggled to control her breathing.

When Julian finally pushed inside, she realized that it wasn't a thrust -- it was a claim. An Englishman claiming her Asian body for his own. Her hand gripped his shoulder tightly, pale fingers digging into his skin as he nudged forward slowly and carefully.

Numerous Asian men had loved her body before -- most were quick, efficient, polite even in passion. But this? May realized that this was something else entirely. Julian wasn't just longer; he was fuller, the broad crown of his cock parting her labia with deliberate, almost cruel slowness, the bulbous head catching at her entrance before finally, finally sinking into her moist sheath. May's back arched as she writhed beneath him, her nails scoring red marks on his shoulders as Julian's thickness stretched her in a way she'd never known.

She gasped loudly -- a sharp, punched-out sound that she'd never heard before as her inner walls fluttered around the intrusion. Half-pleasure. Half-protest.

"Easy, May..." Julian murmured, his voice rough. His thumb brushed her hipbone, holding her steady as he rocked forward, letting her adjust to his size. "Breathe, love. Just breathe."

May's breath became faster and faster, her brows furrowing in concentration, in sensation. It had been so long. She forgot how full, how deeply intimate it felt to be stretched open. Alex had never stretched her like this with his penis, often complaining how loose she felt after giving birth to their children.

Julian didn't feel like her husband. His English cock felt like he was pushing a baseball bat inside her. He paused just an inch in, his blue eyes locked on her brown ones.

"You okay, May?" he whispered, softly and tenderly. She could tell he was concerned about her, about his size.

May nodded quickly, eyes shimmering with pleasure, pain and nervous anxiety. "Don't stop."

With a low groan, Julian eased further in, aided by her copious natural lubrication, moving in time with her breath as he buried another inch into the Asian woman. Then another. And another. The stretch, the pressure -- it bloomed through her like an explosion, linking him to her in that moment, to the feel of him, to the impossible closeness of their encounter.

Inch by relentless inch, stretching her so perfectly she saw stars. Her nails bit into his shoulders as he bottomed out, the head of his cock pressed hard against her cervix, her body clamping around him as a sob escaped her lips. Julian exhaled sharply, burying his face in her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

"Shit! You feel..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "God, May. You're fuckin' incredible," he gasped.

May hands instinctively threaded through his salt and pepper hair as he began to move -- slow and deliberate, every motion, every thrust in sync with hers, as if they were made for each other. The world outside fell away. Her responsibilities. Her guilt. Her role as wife, mother, executive -- they all faded beneath the weight of his body, the heat of his mouth against her throat, the sound of their breathing tangled together, the feeling of his cock buried inside her.

For the first time since she could remember, May felt stretched, filled, seen.

As Julian moved within her, May's soft cries and whimpers of delight filled the room, mingling with his quiet groans. He kissed her -- God, he's kissing me everywhere, she realized in delight. On her lips. Her collarbone. Her jaw. She felt the passion and desire rising in her and her thighs curled around him, drawing him deeper, stretching her, his cock stabbing again and again at a point deep inside her sheath that made her toes curl and fingers clench with each thrust.

"P... please..." her words dissolved into a whimpered cry of delight as Julian rose up from her body into the kneeling position between her thighs, his strong hands dragging her closer, her thighs draping over his. The Englishman gazed down on the Asian woman now squirming in ecstasy on the bed in front of him as he rocked his hips forwards repeatedly. The new position brought a new angle that made her gasp and cry out with each thrust -- each one feeling deeper and fuller than before.

"Ahhh!" Another gasp of pleasure, this time as his right thumb found her erect clit, rubbing the little nub of pink flesh in time with his thrusts as he continued to rock his hips backwards and forwards.

To May's surprise and delight, Julian didn't fuck her like a man chasing his own pleasure. He played her. Deep, dragging strokes that dragged his thick shaft almost all the way out before plunging back in, the swollen ridge of his crown exquisitely brushing that sweet spot inside her with every withdrawal and thrust, his thumb never leaving her clit. When her legs trembled, her climax about to break inside her, he hooked an arm under her right knee, lifting her leg over his shoulder, driving deeper, harder, until the room around her blurred.

"Fuckin' come for me, May..." he demanded loudly, his own face contorted in pleasure, as he angled his hips just so that the tip of his cock brushed her g-sp...

May came apart in an instant.

Her climax tore through her like a live current, the Asian woman's back bowing almost painfully off the bed as she choked out his name in a desperate cry of ecstasy. Julian didn't stop as the walls of her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock as he fucked her through her release, his own orgasm building in the ragged way his rhythm faltered. At the last second, he tore himself away from her with a loud, almost feral, groan, his fat cock twitching as he spurted warm ribbons of thick, creamy cum across her golden stomach.

The world stilled for a moment, nothing else mattering to either of them as they rode out their climaxes. For a heartbeat, the only sound in the room was their shattered breathing.

Then, with a loud, expressive sigh, Julian collapsed beside her on the bed, instinctively dragging the Asian wife and mother against his chest. Even as she lay there, her heart racing as if she'd just run a marathon, May could feel how her body still quaked, oversensitive, alive.

Julian pressed a kiss on her damp forehead. "Still with me?"

May could only laugh, breathless and dazed. "I think you broke me."

"Good," the Englishman replied with a chuckle.

*****

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city waking up beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel room. The silence of the room was broken only by the slow rhythm of Julian's breathing beside her.

May lay still, her head resting on a pillow that smelled of unfamiliar cologne and sweat. Her body ached in places that had long been neglected for far too long, not unpleasantly -- but insistently. A beautiful reminder of what had happened. Of what she had done.

She glanced briefly at the clock on the side table next to the bed. 6:07 AM. She needed to get up. She was due in the office in a few hours... just like he was. The realization was not lost on her, neither were the potential implications of their night of illicit passion.

Turning slightly, careful not to wake him, May looked at the man sleeping next to her. For the first time in nearly fifteen years, she had awoken next to someone other than her husband, Alex. Julian lay on his back, one arm draped across his stomach, chest rising and falling in steady time. The sheets barely covered his hips. His face was calm, peaceful in a way she hadn't seen before -- none of the sharp alertness from work, his body bare of the tailored suits he usually wore.

She studied him for a long moment, then closed her brown eyes, the memories of the previous night rushing back in a flood of sensations.

Not just the first time, but the second. In the quiet stillness of early morning, when the room was dark, and her guilt hadn't been quite strong enough to hold her back.

She had woken with his arm around her waist, his hand resting just above her hip. For some reason, the weight of it felt right. Safe. Human. Real. She had turned toward him, expecting to slip away quietly, maybe shower before the light shifted and the reality of her life had returned.

But Julian's blue eyes had opened in the dim light.

And he'd kissed her again -- softly at first, then with more heat, more want, more passion. There had been no hesitation in his touch that time. No barriers of guilt or negotiation. Just skin and breath and need. From both of them.

May remembered how she'd climbed over him, straddling the Englishman slowly, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. The way his large hands had gripped her slim waist, his eyes wide as if watching something sacred and beautiful unfold above him. No words were said, none were needed.

She'd moved gently at first, getting used to the stretch again, guiding him into her inch by inch. Finally, he let out a sound, groaning her name like some sort of secret prayer.

And then May had let herself go.

She remembered the slow grind of her hips, the sensation of power and control as she rode him. How different it felt from the first encounter a few hours earlier. Less tentative. Hungrier. More hers.

The Asian woman remembered the flush of heat building inside her, his hands rising to her breasts, cupping them, tweaking her erect nipples, his mouth murmuring things that made her body tremble. Dirty things, arousing things, things that only a man and wife should whisper to each other.

And then... the moment she hadn't planned for.

Julian's voice, thick with warning. "May... I... I'm close."

But she hadn't stopped. Hadn't wanted to.

Something in her had said yes. Was that just in her mind or did she say it out aloud?

When he came, it had been deep and primal, his body tightening beneath hers, the tip of his cock pressed hard against her cervix. She remembered the warmth of his potent Caucasian seed that flooded inside her, the breathless way he'd held her hips as he emptied himself into her still fertile Asian womb.

And she had let him do it. Wanted him to do it.

May had stayed there on top of him, his arms wrapping around her after his climax, their bodies still joined in the most intimate way possible. Her heart had been a wild drumbeat in her chest, beating a rhythm of lust, guilt and passion.

Now, lying beside him in the stillness of the morning light, her hand absently rested on her lower belly.

May knew what it meant.

She was still fertile. Her cycle was predictable. Last period... thirteen days ago.

She had seen the signs; the discharge, the ease of her arousal, all of it indicating the approach of her most fertile time of the month.

Her eyes opened to look at the ceiling.

What were you thinking?

But she realized that she hadn't been thinking. She had been feeling. And for the first time in what felt like years, she had let that feeling lead her.

Still, the weight of consequence hovered over her. Not just the considerable risk of falling pregnant with a baby, a bi-racial baby. But the moral boundary she had crossed the night before with Julian.

Adultery.

She hadn't just cheated on her husband.

She had remembered what it was to be seen. To be alive. To be desired.

May turned her head again, studying Julian's face. He looked younger like this as he slept. Softer. The lines at the corners of his mouth were eased. His mouth, the same one that had whispered to her through the night, kissed her passionate, licked and sucked on her pussy, was parted in sleep.

A pang of something swelled in her chest.

Was it regret?

Maybe it was.

But it was also... peace.

For just one night, she had felt desired again. Cherished. Worshipped, even.

Not just as a mother or an executive or a wife who paid the bills and remembered everyone's birthdays.

But as a woman.

The thought brought a strange pressure to her throat, an ache she hadn't anticipated.

She sat up slowly, the sheets falling from her body, brushing against skin that was still sensitive, still buzzing from hours of touch, of passion, of fucking. Her thighs ached in a way that made her smile faintly.

Next to her Julian stirred.

His blue eyes opened, blurry with sleep. He smiled when he saw her.

"Morning," he said, voice thick and rough.

"Morning," she replied, brushing her black hair back from her face.

He sat up, the sheet falling to his waist. "You, okay?"

She nodded. "Just... gathering myself," she said, almost wistfully.

Julian studied her for a moment. Then, with surprising tenderness, he said softly, "May... last night..."

"I know," she said quickly, not wanting to dwell on what had happened. "It was... a lot."

He smiled faintly. "That's one way to put it... but I don't regret it."

She looked down at the sheets, unable to meet his gaze at that moment. "Neither do I."

"I... I should go," May said after a moment, climbing from the bed and beginning to dress. She couldn't look into his eyes. "I need to head home, clean up, change... then straight to the office," she told him, slipping back into her normal persona, her passionate side once again hidden from the world.

Julian nodded, watching her. "Will I see you there?"

"Of course," she said, slipping on her dress. "We've got that call with the Singapore office at ten."

He smiled faintly. "Right. Business as usual."

She glanced at him. "Is it?"

He stood now, naked as he approached her. "May..."

She turned to face him, her heart fluttering involuntarily at the sight of his pale nakedness.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"I know what it was," Julian said. "And I also know what it meant. Even if nothing happens again, May... I'll never forget last night."

Her eyes shimmered on the verge of crying, but she blinked them away.

"Me neither," she whispered, quickly picking up her shoes and slipping them on.

He followed her to the living room where she collected her purse on the way, stuffing her pantyhose into the bag before he accompanied her to door.

"Take care of yourself today, May," he told her as he held the door open.

She paused, with one hand on the doorframe.

"You too, Julian."

And with that, she stepped into the corridor, the door clicking shut behind her.

Outside the hotel, Kuala Lumpur was fully awake. The heat was starting to rise, despite the early hour. Horns were blaring and people bustled along the streets. Then she saw a pharmacy nearby and shifted her path towards it. She could address one concern she had about the night. The other one would still linger, something no amount of chemicals could change.

As May walked forward, heels tapping against footpath, her mind was a swirling mess of guilt, wonder, and quiet, dangerous longing. For what she had experienced. For what she had desired.

She knew she had to go back to her life. Her family. Her husband.

But last night?

Last night, she'd awoken something deep inside her, something that she might never again be able to put to sleep.