Chapter 8

In the evening, the moment Paul had been waiting for a long time came. He had picked Nikki up after work, and they were heading to the very motel Paul stayed the night before.

From the corner of his eyes, he peeked at her. She was as pretty as ever, but after seeing her twice in Han’s sleek sedan, it felt strange to have her in his little worn out jeep again. She felt out of place, and feelings of inadequacy tightened Paul’s chest.

How could he have had her on this jeep for five years and not once felt it was off? Suddenly, he felt ashamed that it was what people must think whenever they saw them together in this car.

Ever since he’d picked Nikki up from Nilar’s house, the two hadn’t spoken a word, and awkwardness only grew with every moment they remained quiet.

“Do you want dinner before this?” Paul said, trying to break the ice.

“No,” she shook her head, her eyes still fixed on the road. Then, she turned her head to look at him. “I mean ... we can stop at a restaurant if you want it,” she said. “Are you hungry?”

“Nah.” Paul shook his head. “Not really. I thought you might be hungry, so...”

“No ... I’ve had a big lunch today ... so”

Paul nodded and kept his eyes back on the road as his little jeep roared through the streets of Yangon.

Although Paul was trying to keep it together, he couldn’t help but peek at Nikki whenever he had the chance. She was wearing a lovely crop top that ended right above her belly button with a thin layer of open sheer blouse, and Paul’s eyes kept returning to her pleated skirt that ended right above her knees.

Paul pretended to be occupied with driving as he surreptitiously placed his hand on her knees. He’d seen Han do that move before, and ever since that day, he’d been itching to try it on Nikki.

He gave her knee a few gentle squeezes while sneaking another glance, disguising it as a look at the side mirror.

Nikki didn’t flinch. Her knees stayed pressed together, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, neither approving his advances nor pushing him away.

Paul lingered there, trapped in limbo, his hand unmoving--frozen against the soft warmth of her skin.

Then, almost imperceptibly, her knees shifted. They parted. Paul bit his lip, pulse quickening, as he slid his hand up along her thigh, fingers disappearing beneath the hem of her skirt.

He could hardly focus on the road as his hand climbed higher and her knees parted more, drawn irresistibly toward the heat radiating from her body. Then, in one fell swoop, his hand rose enough to rest between her legs, and Paul instantly turned around to look at her when he couldn’t feel her knickers. (What he felt instead was the smooth flesh of her cunt, his first experience of ever touching it.)

Nikki’s hand immediately came down on his wrist, and she then pulled it out of her skirt. “That’s far enough, mister,” she said, her voice light but edged with warning. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, though, and the playful curl at the corner of her lips betrayed something other than pure disapproval. And with that line alone, the tension between them melted like snow on a hot summer day.

“You are not wearing knickers?” Paul said, staring at his own trembling hand.

Nikki shook her head in a cute way, a smile appearing on her lips as Paul brought his hand to his nose to smell it. Even though it had only been inside her skirt for a few seconds, her scent had already clung to his fingers, intoxicating, unmistakably hers.

“Why?” Paul asked.

“Well...” She blushed. “I promised Han that I would never wear them again.”

“What?” Paul laughed, still buoyant after the thrill of touching her pussy.

“Yeah,” she said, her smile growing wider. “He made me swear before he let me go yesterday. And I...” She tugged her skirt back down, her hands lingering protectively between her legs. “keep my promises, mister.”

Paul couldn’t believe it. Han wasn’t even here, and yet she was still abiding by his rule--and that only made Paul more excited. “So, you’ll ... still listen to him, even when you’re with me?”

“Of course,” she replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And you’ll respect that as well.”

She shifted in her seat, turned toward him, and rested her feet lightly on his crotch, her heels pressing against the point where the two parts of his shorts met. Then, pointing with her finger as if laying down a law, she explained, “Look ... anything above the hem is off-limits to you tonight. You get my knees, my calves, my feet, and everything above my waist--but that’s it.”

Paul massaged her feet with one hand after slipping off her heels, nodding along while the corners of his mouth drooped in disappointment. He was, of course, frustrated; even though he had picked her up knowing he wouldn’t be touching her cunt, he couldn’t help but imagine biting or licking her thighs as he had so many times before, or cupping those nice, juicy cheeks he loved.

And this rule only heightened his worry. He was already torn over what to do with Han. The thrill of the situation excited him, but he couldn’t deny that Han had become far more dominant and controlling than he had anticipated, and that unnerved Paul.

At the motel, he got his usual set of treats. He suckled her tits hard in the darkness of the room as she lifted up her crop top and bras for him. He was lying on top of her like he did during that one fateful trip to the outskirts of Yangon and played with her boobs. He massaged them, squeezed them, bit them, licked them, and occasionally rolled her nipples between his teeth.