Chapter 2

Chinatown, Manhattan

Jun sat in his car, outside his house, in a beaten up silver 1995 Toyota Corolla. It didn’t help with the ladies, but funnily enough, he had never really needed any help. Six feet tall, short black hair roughly swept to the right, a lean, muscular physique from hours of swimming and tennis, piercing brown eyes and a cheeky smile – he was popular, good-looking, sexy even.

For an Asian.

He hated those words.

The way girls would excuse him whilst hooking up, “Oh but you’re different”.

The way guys would hang out with him, “Dude you’re so white.”

He sighed.

I hope Mom and Dad are asleep. I really don’t want to deal with them right now.

He’d dropped Amy off at her house in Long Island before driving home.

“I’ll be dripping your cum out of my pussy all night, soiling my sheets... , “ she had whispered in his ear, “What’s my Mom going to think... , “ purring as she kissed his auricles, his lobes, trailing softly down his neck, his tensed jaw, to the corners of his mouth ... before Jun reached for hers and enveloped her lips in a passionate mesh of tongue, teeth and saliva.

Little nibbles on her lower lip, soft caresses with her tongue on his own, Jun snaked his hands slowly into her jeans; hot, stuffy, wet. He was getting harder by the second, their moans captured within the echo chamber of their mouths.

Suddenly, Amy pulled back, eliciting groans from Jun. She grinned and playfully slapped his face. It stung, but not as much as his blue balls.

“Goodnight big boy.” With a final kiss she got out of the car and headed into her house, a sprawling estate. Jun watched her go, waiting for her to be let into the house. She knocked on her door, turned around and flashed Jun, her swinging double Ds topped by red cherries in the cold air, framed by her short stature, flowing gold locks, and captivating curves.

The door opened and Amy quickly pushed her shirt back down, spinning around quickly to face an older woman, Mrs Carlyle. If Amy was the plum of youth, Mrs Carlyle was an excellently aged port. She was the subject of many of Jun’s masturbatory fantasies as a precocious twelve year old, and even now, at eighteen. She had been Jun’s English teacher in Grade 10 and was going to be his teacher this year.

He’d done really badly in Grade 11 without her to stimulate his mind, hungry for her approval, alluring smile and a chance to perv at her E-cup tits, always spilling out of her red sweaters. Her bosom, whilst world-class, was not her finest asset. That glory belonged to her ass. Beautifully shaped, set against grey skirts, it was a delightful peach, and begged to be spanked and groped.

Jun sighed again. It was going to be hard to concentrate this year. He’d been dating Amy for over 6 months now, but felt guilty that he lusted after both of them.

He got out of the car, scratched up as hell, before turning the key in the driver’s door. In front of him was a forlorn Chinese ‘teashop’. It was really a drug and liquor den. His Dad spent most of the time gambling and drinking with his cronies at the back, whilst his Mom ran the business at the front, selling yum cha.

It was midnight. He really wanted to avoid dealing with his parents. His Dad was always wanting him to grow up and join his gang, whilst his Mom drank herself into a drunken stupor every night, exhausted from the day, and terrified that her husband and only son would one day be shot. A rival gang, a stranger, the police.

This was America after all. The land of immigrants, hopes and dreams. European, Asian, Indian, African, Muslim, Hispanic dreams quickly infected by the growing fear and violence terrorising the national consciousness. Outsiders needed to stay out.

THUMP.

Jun heard a soft crash. Predictably, there was a dark alley adjacent to his house, where the rubbish bins sat, and where his Dad would take people who had misbehaved to teach them lessons in loyalty and blood. Lessons they wouldn’t quickly forget.

He glanced to the right. Probably a stray cat or something.

He turned back to his door, ready to head in when –

BAM!

Jun was knocked to the pavement, his head crunching sickeningly against the cold cement. Hot, foul, breath spilled over his face as he stared up into his assailant’s eyes, bright and lit with fire against the night.

“Master Shen sends his regards, and deepest apologies.”

His attacker’s mouth split open into something resembling a smile, all sharp white teeth and malice. He raised a dagger and swiftly plunged the blade into Jun’s chest.

Arthur was driving home after work, his penis still wet from his secretary’s mouth.