Mitchell's Take
Copyright© 2026 by Midori Greengrass
Chapter 7
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7 - husband's perspective
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction White Male Oriental Female Oral Sex Voyeurism
Mitchell was talking to a colleague during break time about materials for language learning and he mentioned some English language practice materials he used to give students. “From the BBC.”
His colleague, who was not American, said he would like to work on his English some more, he hadn’t had time, he was so busy with his job and everything else in his life. In fact, his English was excellent, more than good enough for him to work as an instructor using it.
Mitchell told him how to find the BBC materials. “Go to their website. There’s a link. That’s the best way. I used to have a CD but don’t know where it is anymore.”
His colleague joked in reply, saying “Just like I wish I could still find my pornography collection.”
Mitchell came back, “That’s okay. You can use some of mine. I have enough for both of us.”
In fact, Mitchell reflected, he didn’t bother with online porn anymore, hadn’t since he and Akemi got together. Images he captured of her were enough and he had an extensive collection of them. God he missed her. The pictures on his devices weren’t enough, needless to say.
Mitchell also noted as his thoughts wandered from the conversation that Americans were now reviled around the world, result of the present administration in Washington wreaking havoc with its arrogance and stupidity.
Little did he suspect that the policies affected him directly, Akemi had been picked up in one of the indiscriminate immigration sweeps and was now in detention at a location unknown to him, where she was objectified more than by Mitchell with his picture taking, which he did lovingly, hornily but with feeling for her.
The give and take with his colleague continued, joined by others. Subject changed. A coworker named Bobby, guy from Brooklyn, talked about his domestic life in the suburbs where he’d recently moved with his wife. “Almost rural.” He spoke about a chick that had hatched there and he and his wife were raising, the marvel of taking care of the baby bird, watching it grow, change, “a lot like a human child. Ha ha. I mean you sense it can grow into anything.”
Mitchell didn’t understand, wasn’t interested, couldn’t take in tales of happy marriage then in any case. He wandered off, tried to focus on his work, class he had to give, as thoughts of Akemi washed over him, like a fog that made seeing anything around all but impossible.
Letter Discovery
She must have been working on it in the morning before she left for the college and later her dance class, from which she hadn’t returned, out overnight.
On Akemi’s laptop, which I checked (she’d left her phone at home too but it wasn’t open) I found the following letter (unfinished?) To a guy, obviously American because in English. No idea who. My friend Nelson? Hiroko may have helped her, translated. Its tone, its existence, a total surprise. On the other hand, let’s not overreact. It may not mean all it seems to.
Hiroko’s translation
I dreamed that you were looking up a former girlfriend and found that she went into a house and you went to look and found that inside she was having sex with men, she went to the house to do that often, that was her habit. Just using her mouth but with one man after another. There was a lot of cream. They were all friends and having fun. It wasn’t serious but surprising, unexpected, hard to understand or impossible.
I dreamed I was in a big white hotel in the restaurant there with friends and to have a quiet moment to myself I went outside to the back porch, which had a view of the surroundings, and stood and looked. I would soon return to continue lunch with my friends but enjoyed the feelings, sight of nature all around. Ahead spread a field grown wild, vast as the sky. It was lovely and inviting but rough and rugged. Dark low clouds and strong winds muted the colors but strengthened the tones, giving the scene those of a stormy sea.
Greenery was sparse and the dark hard kind suited to the unforgiving environment. Some looked almost succulent. You could imagine thorns, like on cactus stalks. Wind blew over an endless bed of wild grass streaked dark green and yellow and other shades- together they looked nearly monochrome yet were lush, long sharp grass blades combed into shapes wavelike, even elegant, giving an appearance of fixed motion, defiance of time. I felt I might be standing there looking at the scene for eternity, though it was of course just a moment in time.