His hands were on her hips, guiding her onto his princely prong. Then Katherine realised she only felt one hand. The next moment, she burned again with shame, as Somtow slid his wet forefinger into her butthole.
She felt sluttish, dirty, wild. He worked his finger in time with his cock, careful not to push too deep or too hard. Even that little bit of stretching in that sensitive area produced unbearably acute sensations. She twisted and writhed, forgetting everything except the dance between her legs. As another long-tail roared by, she reached back and grabbed her own buttocks, holding them wide open, inviting Somtow to penetrate her more fully.
The sight of her, drenched in sweat, her fingernails digging into her own white flesh, drove Somtow to orgasm. He plunged his cock and his finger into her, as deep as he could go.
His fierce coming pulled her along with him. The breeze carried her cries over the water. A woman hanging her laundry on the bank looked up in curiosity.
Katherine clung to the rail, panting, her forehead on her hands. Her whole body was shaking. She felt Somtow put his arm around her shoulders, helping her back to a sitting position on the bench. She pulled her skirt modestly over her knees. Underneath, she felt herself open and wet, front and rear. Little electric thrills still chased through her sex, especially when Somtow brought his lips to hers.
“Katherine, you continue to amaze me,” he said softly. “Thank you, for being you and for being with me.”
“It is you who are amazing,” Katherine answered. “I have never met such a perfect gentleman, or such a dedicated lecher, in my life!”
Katherine went off to the tiny bathroom in the cabin, to splash some water on her face and clean up a bit. She had grabbed her underwear from deck on the way. She began to put it on; then she changed her mind and stuffed the garment into her shoulder bag. Just in case, she thought, with a mental shrug.
She emerged to find the barge pulling up at what was clearly a public boat ramp. As she and Somtow climbed the wooden stairs leading up the river bank, she felt the eyes of the pilot and the serving girl upon them. But perhaps it was just her imagination. She did not dare turn around to see.
The bare, dusty area at the top of the steps was crowded with food vendors and tuktuks, three-wheeled, open-air taxis that were basically a motorized adaptation of a rickshaw. The drivers were aggressive, competitive, and friendly.
“Tuk tuk?!” they called.
“One hundred baht for the day!”
“I can take you, show you all the sights, only eighty baht!”
“Come, Madam, Sir, let me take you in my tuk tuk!”
Somtow turned to Katherine. “Shall we hire a tuk tuk, or walk? The ruins are fairly spread out, but you get a much better sense of the scale of Ayuthaya’s former magnificence on foot.”
“Let’s walk,” said Katherine, smiling at him.
“Fine. Then we will need some supplies.” He went over to one of the stalls and in short order had purchased a bottle of water, a bag of crispy fried bananas, and two straw hats. Donning the hats, they set off down the road which bordered the river.
Before long, they reached a half-tumbled brick wall, overrun with luxuriant vines. Fragments of stone sculpture were strewn around it; a graceful hand, the folds of a robe, part of a set of legs frozen in a full lotus position. Behind the wall, Katherine could see a precariously leaning tower and a set of broken columns, equally festooned with greenery.
“This was Wat Mahatat,” said Somtow. “One of the grandest temples in the city. At one time its tower, or prang, was nearly fifty meters high.”
They wandered among the ruins, which had a kind of melancholy beauty. The day was getting hot, but there was still a breeze. The vines rustled softly, whispering of days long vanished.
As they continued, they came to a grassy expanse dominated by three huge chedis, conical towers that looked like upturned children’s tops. “The ashes of two royal princes and an abbot are buried within those monuments,” said Somtow. “During the prime of the Ayuthaya, the chedis would have been gilded, and could have been seen from a long way, above the city walls. They are positioned to catch the last gleams of the setting sun.”
They stood at the foot of one of the chedis. Katherine looked up. Most of the stucco that had once covered the structure had worn away. She could see the precise brickwork used to create the tapering outline.
Next, they reached a temple that appeared to be intact. “Wat Suwan Dararam,” said Somtow. “This temple was built near the close of the Ayuthaya period; it was badly damaged, but now has been restored. Shall we go inside?”
“Oh, yes,” said Katherine. The shady interior looked very appealing.
“Leave your shoes on the steps,” said Somtow, doing so himself. As they entered, an elderly monk bowed in a respectful wai. Somtow put some money in the wooden box beside the man, and picked up two bundles of incense sticks.
The interior of the wat was fragrant with sandalwood. Woven straw mats covered the floor, their texture pleasant under Katherine’s bare feet. Columns carved with mythical beasts supported the peaked ceiling; brightly-painted frescoes decorated the walls.
An enormous bronze Buddha image sat at the far end of the sanctuary, surrounded by banks of candles, jars of flowers, and many smaller images. Several orange-clad monks sat before the figure, chanting softly. Somtow approached the Buddha and knelt reverently. He lit his incense from one of the candles, holding it between his two palms. Then he repeatedly bowed, bringing his hands and the incense to his forehead.
Katherine watched him with some surprise. His eyes were closed. His lips moved slightly with some inaudible prayer or invocation. His devotion was clearly genuine.
She lit her own incense and stuck it in one of the bronze pots, filled with sand, that were provided for this purpose. Then she sat quietly, marvelling at the peace that pervaded the place, and at the transformation of her lover.
Eventually, Somtow opened his eyes. He looked at her and smiled, then took her hand and led her out of the temple. The sun was blinding as they emerged. The heat had intensified.
“I hope you were not bored,” said Somtow.
“Oh no,” said Katherine. “It was lovely, very tranquil.”
“It is important to pay one’s respects,” said Somtow seriously. “Especially for me. I have such a need to make merit.”
Abruptly, his mood lightened. He grasped her hand again, smiling his infectious smile. “Come, I have something else to show you.” He led her down the road, and then turned onto a winding path through thickening vegetation. Suddenly they came to a clearing. There, surrounded by bricks and rubble, was a massive statue of the Buddha, in a reclining pose.
As was traditional, the figure lay on its right side, the stone head resting on the right palm. Calm eyes contemplated them serenely. From the flame of knowledge rising out of his head, to the soles of his feet decorated with the eight-petal lotus, the statue must have been at least ten metres in length.
Katherine gazed at the figure, impressed by its scale, and its overwhelming air of quiet power. She lost track of Somtow for a moment. Then she heard a sound behind her.
She turned to see Somtow, totally naked, lying on the grass in the shade. Like the statue, he lay on his side, his ear resting on his hand. Unlike the Buddha image, though, his expression was one of mischievous invitation.
“Somtow,” Katherine exclaimed. “You are completely outrageous! Don’t you consider this disrespectful?”
“The Buddha rejected asceticism. He taught the middle way, moderation in all things.” Somtow grinned. “I am just more moderate in some areas than others.”
Katherine shook her head, disbelieving. Her Thai prince looked as irresistible as usual. His hair was a bit dishevelled, curling damply on his brow. His pale skin flowed with patterns of shadow as the sunlight filtered through the trees. His cock was hugely erect, glistening with a bit of premonitory moisture.
What the hell, she thought to herself. She pulled her
tunic over head, and stepped out of her skirt. The breeze was delicious on her bare skin.
As she approached, Somtow rolled onto his back. Taking his cue, she straddled him, and slowly, teasingly, lowered herself onto his eager penis.
She was a little sore, she found, from their earlier escapades. The irritation gave a sharp edge to the pleasure of his entering. Her dancer’s muscles allowed her to control her movements, as she slid up and down on his stiff rod of flesh, building the tension as gradually as she could.
Somtow rocked his pelvis in time with her strokes, but otherwise remained still. He watched her as she rode him, harder now, grinding herself down on him, finding exactly the right position, the right angle, for her own satisfaction. Now he reached up and caressed her breasts gently, trapping the nipples between his first and second finger. Katherine responded by pinching his nipples, hard. His back arched, pushing his cock deeper into her.
“Katherine,” he moaned. She began a circular motion with her hips, spiralling her lubricated cunt up and down the length of his cock. “Oh, Katherine!”
Now his eyes were closed. He grabbed her ass and began to pump her body, in and out, up and down. She relaxed a bit, allowed him to move her, control her, use her flesh to stimulate his own. Somehow this increased her own excitement. Katherine saw, in a moment of clarity, that this was what she liked best: to be fucked, used, taken over, turned into the vessel of someone else’s pleasure.
Her tangled hair fell over her eyes. Somtow’s cock split her wide, again and again. They breathed in unison, panting in time to his quickening thrusts. She swept her thumbs over her taut nipples, savouring the electric spasms this produced in her sex. Her back arched, her backside in Somtow’s firm grip, she let go entirely, let him probe her deepest cavities, let him swell and burst, exploding inside her.
And as she felt that explosion, her flesh sent up answering fireworks, a fiery cascade of the senses that left her breathless. Yes, she thought, yes, this is what matters, what I want, what I live for.
Later as she lay, naked and sweating, on her lover’s body, under the wise and tranquil gaze of the reclining Buddha, she felt no shame.
Chapter Five
Lessons in Leather
On Sunday, Katherine was sore. Her muscles ached; her sex was red and tender. Somehow, she did not mind. Every little twinge reminded her of Somtow’s lust, and her own abandon. She could not help smiling to herself as she ate her late breakfast.
Still, she was surprised at herself. She had always enjoyed sex, but lately, it seemed, she had gone over the edge. What was happening to her? Her body was alive in a new way; the slightest hint of the erotic, the merest suggestion of the salacious, was enough to make her damp and hungry. Meanwhile, her mind painted pictures that made her blush, starting with memories of what she had done and embroidering to create lurid fantasies of what she might have done—or might do.
It was not just Somtow, of course, but Gregory also. The alternation of brightness and shadow, respect and mockery, seduction and domination, had left her dizzy, reeling. Never before had she had two lovers at the same time—three, if you counted David. It made her feel a little crazy. Was she being rash, taking too many risks? Was she a slut, as Gregory had labelled her?
Katherine was confused, but searching her soul, she honestly could not feel any regret. I haven’t lied to anyone, she thought, and I have not done anything wrong. I am glad for both of them, I admit it; I don’t want to give up either of these strange, exciting liaisons.
Ae normally took Sunday off, so Katherine had the house to herself. She spent a leisurely day, listening to music, reading in the garden, taking a stroll around her neighbourhood. As evening drew near, she remembered that David had promised to call. She felt great trepidation. How could she tell him what was happening to her? On the other hand, how could she not be truthful?
Promptly at nine PM, the telephone rang. She picked it up nervously.
“Hello?”
“Katherine? It’s David.” Two breaths. “God, Kate, it’s so good to hear your voice!”
“Yours, too,” said Kate, and she meant it. Her nervousness melted away at the familiar sound of his laugh and his Boston accent. “Oh, David, it’s so strange here! I love it, but I do miss home, and you. There is a kind of magic here, but sometimes I worry that I have been bewitched.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, his voice warm, and kind. “You can tell me, Kate. I’m your best friend.”
“Well…” She hesitated. “Somehow, I am constantly turned on, constantly horny.” There was silence on the other end of the line. She swallowed. “In the few weeks since I have been here, I have had sex with two different men. It’s as if I can’t help myself.”
She waited, expecting tearful recriminations or angry jibes. When he finally spoke, though, he sounded calm, even gentle.
“Katherine, you are the most sensual woman I have ever known. Of course you have taken lovers. How could you not? I don’t blame you at all. But I do miss you. You don’t know how much I wish I could be there with you.”
He paused, then continued softly. “I replay that scene in the parking garage again and again, Kate. You can’t imagine how intoxicating you looked, with your skirt around your waist, your sweet cunt swallowing up every inch of my cock.”
“Yes,” said Kate. “I can imagine. I do.” The familiar tingle started again, between her legs. She switched the telephone receiver to her left hand and began to massage her sex with her right, slowly, languidly, in time with her breath. “David, I was overwhelmed by you. I could hardly believe you would do that to me, in such a public place!”
“I get a hard-on every time I think about it,” David whispered. “So exposed. I think about how I should have closed the trunk and laid you face down on top of it, your ass in the air, as I ploughed your pussy. Then everyone could have appreciated the fine view…”
“So…” Kate was beginning to pant. “Do you have a hard-on now?”
“What do you think?” David’s voice was huskier.
“I know just what you look like,” she said. “Your cock is getting longer and thicker by the minute. It’s purple, throbbing, full of blood, the soft skin stretched tight over the swollen hardness beneath. Just feel how soft that skin is, David.
“Meanwhile,” she continued, in a low, seductive voice, “I am lying on my silk-upholstered sofa. My robe is open. My nipples are as hard as your penis, throbbing too. I trail my fingers up the inside of my thigh, just barely touching. Now I’m burying my fingers in my bush, probing for my clit. I spread my legs wider, so I can touch myself more deeply.” She stopped for a moment, breathing heavily, momentarily overcome by the delicious feelings flooding her sex.
“My finger is in my pussy, now, as deep as I can go.” She heard David panting. “It’s not enough, though. I want your cock there, filling me up, touching every part of me inside. Nothing feels as good as your hard penis inside me.”
There was only breathing on the other end of the line. Kate was getting more and more excited. She struggled to keep control of her voice.
“Squirt some lubricant onto your palm, David,” she instructed. “Get your hand nice and wet and slippery. Now, take hold of yourself, move your hand up and down that lovely long length of cock. It feels so good, doesn’t it? Imagine that’s me, sitting on your cock, sliding you in and out.”
“Oh, Kate…” David was groaning.
“I’m very wet,” she said, and it was true. “I’m going to come on you, David, all over you. You’re so wonderfully deep inside me.”
She had both hands between her legs now, the phone pressed between her shoulder and her ear. Her left thumb and forefinger pinched and twisted her clit; all four fingers of the right hand were buried in the juicy folds of her pussy. “David,” she moaned, “I’m going to come. Come with me, David, fill me, fuck me, David, now, David, come now!”
Katherine closed her eyes and allowed the climax to take her. She heard David’s cries an
d suddenly could see him, his jaw clenched, his compact, muscular body in spasms as the come spurted from the organ he held with both hands. She was suddenly filled with the desire to kiss him tenderly, to kneel before him, licking the sticky white fluid from his sweet flesh.
“Oh, David, I miss you,” she sighed. “Forgive me for not appreciating you, for taking you for granted. You’re wonderful, David.”
“No,” said David softly. “You’re the one who’s wonderful.”
The conversation with David seemed to settle her. Katherine started the week determined to be more productive. She was calmer, less obsessed with the sexual, finally able to concentrate on her work. Every now and again a thought of Somtow, or of Gregory, would tickle the edge of her consciousness. She would push these thoughts resolutely away. Later, she thought, I’ll indulge myself later.
Her resolution received a boost when Somtow called her Monday to tell her he was leaving for a business trip to Hong Kong. Apologetically, he indicated that he would be away for at least a week. “I will contact you when I return,” he said. “I hope that we will be able to get together then.” Katherine felt a little thrill, speculating on what he might have in mind for their next meeting. “I will miss you, Katherine.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” she answered sincerely, but her regret was mixed with gratitude. She needed some time to recover, to sort out her feelings, and hopefully to make some progress on the projective 3D project.
Kate had not heard anything from Gregory since his email the previous Friday, and for now she hoped he would keep his silence. Their sexual encounter had strengthened her determination to demonstrate her professional expertise. She could, perhaps, accept the apparent fact that debasing herself before him, offering herself as his sex toy to manipulate and control, excited her beyond belief. But she could only bear his mockery, she felt, if she could earn his respect for her intelligence and technical skill.
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