Dara Leaves With Her Husband (3)
Chapter 7: Bangkok

Copyright© 2018 by LolaPaul

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7: Bangkok - Dara has caught Sung Ro, with a temporary marriage. Sung paid Dara's father with a large check which will feed her family. However, after years 'off the grid' her father can't deposit the check. Fortunately, Sung taught a seminar on US banking to top executives of the largest banks in Thailand, so he had powerful friends. After the banking is taken care of, Dara and her husband go to Bangkok, where she will transition from a starving 18-year old dropout to a faculty wife in Hong K

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fiction   Analingus   Masturbation  

After our early lunch with the family, we were off to Bangkok where I would train for my new life as a full-time faculty wife. Sung figured a four or five hour drive with a one-hour stop in the regional capital, where I was born, to get some documents I would need. Then we would also stop at our government building when we got to Bangkok. The surprise was that it was the USA government building, with those famous hard and handsome US Marines on guard. That was now my government!

I wept. Honestly, the only thing that could have impressed me more would be a stop at the Royal Palace, and I was not sure that would top the Embassy stop we made. I was allowed to go inside and made to feel welcome!

However, before that, as we were on the road I felt I had to ask Cara something.

“My sister heard some unexpected noises last night.”

“Weddings always put me in a mood; two young lovers exploring love for the first time ... it is very stirring. Your Father is a very kind, and naturally helpful man. He accompanied me to the sauna. In a sauna, clothing is not worn. But you should know that, while arousal is possible, sex is not possible ... there. Do you really want to know more details than that?”

“I guess, when you phrase it that way, maybe I should not, as you have answered my first question. But I must ask, since I see that you wear a ring ... aren’t you married?”

“Ah ... That explains the confusion. I forget sometimes. The answer is ... sort of, but not entirely. I am married but legally separated from my husband, it is an important distinction, part of the divorce process in California where people are not sure about anything. Like your temporary marriage, but at the other end. The court gives the couple permission to live apart in all ways as if we were divorced, but it is not final, that takes time and is irrevocable. So we can change our minds, because those who make the laws think that might happen. Your husband is to blame as much as anyone else. But not how you might think ... it is his wallet that is too big. By the way, the latin term used in the law for separation translates to ‘separate in bed and board’ which means we have the right to sleep with others and keep our own money.”

I always thought one was married or not married, this “separated” was new to me. But we were talking about California, so things were different. Also, I was in a temporary marriage, so I guess other types were possible. Then saying Sung was to blame, followed by the comment about money took me someplace else so now I was really confused. “I would think that money is a good thing.”

“Well, I think so, but ... Let me back up. My husband is five years older than me. He has a PhD and is a full professor in Cultural Anthropology, which is his great pride and the thing that gives his life value. Now, you must realize that Cultural Anthropology is essentially a made-up science as they have no solid evidence, no useful theories, no testable hypotheses, only artful speculations based on the tiniest of clues; they effectively write drama and call it history based on shards of old broken chamber pots and pass it off as science when enough of them agree that they - the folks who agree - are important. He is paid a very small amount despite his great status ... even the janitors are paid more ... and the only reason he fills his classes is because the university requires students to take a number of these useless, never-get-a-job soft-science classes to keep people like him employed. Students who don’t know better, or have a convenient hole in their schedule, take his class. The most depressing part is that he has no students who are majors in his area, his last was 5 years ago and she dropped out because of Organic Chemistry.

“On the other hand, my cousin Sung here has a new PhD and no status, but in the US he would be paid 4 times as much as my husband. He gets even more in Hong Kong. This side gig will pay him more than my husband makes in a year. So you see, the academic community has made a choice of what is valuable. Anyways, when Sung got the side gig he asked if I wanted a PA job for half a semester, to get him up and running. His school would pay me about 10% more than my husband makes, plus they wouldÊprovide free housing. Sung knew I always wanted to visit Hong Kong, which is the most expensive housing in the world, and to have his school pay for my room plus a salary was too good to pass up.”

“That sounds like your good fortune,” I said. “What is your husband’s problem, besides missing you, of course.”

“Missing me was not an issue, but the money thing wounded his pride. My husband went ballistic, he claimed Sung and I were destroying traditional education. How could I argue? We were guilty as charged because his ‘traditional’ field is useless in California’s declining, tech-forward economy. It is poison to any career path. So when he threw a fit I took the job on an open ended appointment. In reply my husband started divorce proceedings which led to our legal separation. When my husband sees reason I will go back. Or when the job ends I may go someplace else. Whatever. In any event I hide my wages and wealth from him, so he does not feel too bad. No need to kick him when he is down.”

Sung had to modify that. “Actually, not telling him about your money means he imagines things, and his imagination scares hit terribly. But really, it is a lose-lose situation no matter what you do.”

She paused a moment, put her head back, and closed her eyes. When the moment was over she looked at me and said, “Let me say one other thing about your father. Please don’t take offense ... but ‘wow!’ I will miss him.”

I really did not have a response to that, so I changed the subject.

“Excuse me for asking this but my husband said his parents...”

“An open marriage? Yes, we did too. In California schools, in some departments all marriages are effectively open; it is the culture. Some couples opt out, if you both say ‘no thank you’ often enough people stop asking. Most couples either admit it or they lie to themselves about it when going into another’s bed, and lying to yourself is such a dreadful waste of energy. Cultural Anthro was open, after my plastic surgery I was more popular than my husband but he was okay with that as long as he got a few young bits because of his iota of power. Finance isn’t open because there is too much money at stake. In California the only ones who really get rich are divorce lawyers. It is not worth the lawyer’s time to chase us in social sciences, because we have no money. But a guy like Sung? Lawyers are always on the look-out for business faculty, they are the only creatures in the world who can act like economists and accountants are interesting. They pay people to provide names of married people with money. If you live there they will contact you out of the blue, and being slimy lawyers, they will not do it honestly. Instead they will invite you to join a wine-tasting club, a clothes shopping club, or a regular card game. Then a beach party or a cruise. Who can say no? We are social animals after all ... well, maybe not lawyers. Then they go to work marriage wrecking. If they get a hint you are cheating, but are not interested in a divorce, they will approach your husband with photos, rumors and lies. If you are not cheating they can fake the photos. They are evil, vile creatures without souls corrupting the City of Angels.”

“I guess we won’t be moving to California.”

My husband spoke up from the front seat for the first time. “Trouble is, that’s where they pay the most in the US. Not as much as Hong Kong, but the US is a better place to live, unless you like mind-numbing crowds ... for that China and Asia are tops.”

Nobody said how important my fidelity was, but this discussion made it clear. I was not inclined toward infidelity, it was why he picked me as a wife, so my husband had made a good choice. I would prove it to him.

I did wonder, what type of cruises? What did one wear?


Our home on Bangkok was in a high-rise hotel; it was by far the tallest building I had ever been in. Cara and Sung had two adjacent suites on the 8th floor, both were laid out for 2 bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. They did not connect, Cara said that might not be proper. My husband had ordered that the furniture in his second bedroom be replaced with office furniture, where he could work on his lectures and keep track of the world; he had three computers plus a TV. Usually the TV had CNN on the big screen but any of the computers could feed that.

When I stepped into the office the first day, a screen saver picture of my private regions was on the screen, much bigger than life. It was the picture taken from behind, with me bent forward and my legs parted just enough so my full pussy lips were framed between my thighs and both holes were visible. At several times life sized and cleaned up in some way, I was stunned. There was a second picture, enlarged even more, of the straight face shot; it was cropped to show just my lips, slightly parted but you could not see my crooked teeth. I did not know what to think of that. My husband said he fell in love with that rear view picture, it was what drove him to act quickly and pay a premium price. He expected to get more pictures in Hong Kong, maybe some professional shots, as he considered me very attractive and he liked to think of me and my body. Then he said that he wanted to shoot the pictures, “with evidence.”

“Evidence of what?” the naive new bride asked.

“Evidence of what of what fun was done,” he answered. “Distended and dripping. Good times. Happy memories.”

I was not sure what to think of that. Part of me didn’t like it at all. Part of me knew that the twins were now eating better because of those pictures and his imaginings. Of course, many women had their private parts photographed in explicit ways so people they did not know could stare at them and do disgusting things as they looked. I had looked. But it was a problem I never expected to have.

I did not want to talk about pictures any more.


We would spend five more weeks in Thailand, two seminar weeks alternated with the three non-seminar weeks when he had no obligations.

Cara quickly made a number of appointments for me. Documents, clothes, rings, and plastic surgery topped the list. “Bangkok and California have the best plastic surgeons in the world. Bangkok is a lot cheaper for the same quality. We will make some visits, then we can decide what you want.”

Did I want anything? I have never considered it. I can’t say I was inclined. But then, I was always hiding half my face, so it might be a good idea - for a faculty wife that is.

His schedule for each seminar weeks involved 4 weekdays (10 to 3, so more like half days) meeting with the group plus a group dinner Friday or Saturday. Also there were individual meetings on the unscheduled parts of the days and evenings to talk about things that could not be discussed in the group setting. Some nights he got home very late. In the past some of the groups wanted to go whoring. (This was Bangkok - you could find a whore anywhere, any time, any price range, any sick desire; at some hotels a t-girl came with the room as furniture while a real girl was an inexpensive upgrade.)

When Sung told his students that he had just married a Thai girl, they would want to celebrate by drinking heavily instead. It was expected.

In each case the week after a seminar was a “free” week for him, although sometimes he had meetings scheduled, or he had to update his handouts. The unscheduled week after the royal seminars was not really essential, but he liked Thailand so he planned to stay, possibly at one of the beach resorts.

I mentioned that I had never been to a beach. Cara made more calls, it seemed I would learn to swim. Also dive.

He told me that one of the three computers was mine, and asked what sort of games I played on the computer. I never had time or money for such things, but I did have a flash drive with my stories and bookmarks. He installed these, then said I should pick a password for my computer, one he would not know. I said I would keep nothing from him, so for a password I used Bop’s name (the first 15 letters) and birth year, which I told him. He was pleased with this choice, and more pleased that I was proficient with the computer.

On a second computer he showed me how to access his files for the seminars, in case I needed to send him anything in class. His third computer had to be confidential, locked and encrypted as it included information from banks.

The rest of the day was spent showing me the household where I would live. The bathroom was a wonder, a temple to cleanliness with a toilet that washed where one usually wiped. The bed was a cloud. The kitchen needed stocking - I made a list.

When he asked me to undress the whole situation crashed down on me; I was alone with him, far from a home and a family I would not see until he willed it, and I was his to use as he wished. It was a shock for me to be so isolated. Also, the kindness and respect he showed in my Father’s presence were somewhat reduced, he was in his home which empowered him.

He tried to comfort and relax me.

In the shower we had time to wash each other. He said that as his wife, he wanted me completely, and then said he had to be blunt, that he was horny. His cock showed it. He washed me all over (except my hair) including places where I did not expect to be washed by another. When his fingers entered my pussy for the second time since breakfast it was not exactly a shock, but it did take some adjustment because, unlike last time, he did it in a way that said he felt free to touch me there. But he was likely going to eat me there, so I did not object in my mind. Then he turned me around and his soapy finger carefully entered my anus, going in the the first knuckle. I had a hard time with that, but I could not really run away. I had read stories, I knew I would learn about sex in that place. But I first saw him less than 36 hours ago, so I guess I was not yet ready for such things.

He washed my feet and my toes while I sat on a stool; I admit that was a strange feeling, and I had to wonder where it would lead. I had no idea.

Then he asked me to wash him all over. That, even the mundane flesh, was much harder for me. He had to insist on some things, like his feet and his ears. His hair was short; he sat on the stool while I washed him there. It was easy and seemed to please him a great deal. He said it required a different soap and showed me how that worked. We had only one soap at home - a pink liquid in a very large bottle - that we all used on everything all my life. When I said that he promised to have Cara show me what soaps I must use as a faculty wife. I needed several different bottles for some reason.

He had me wash his private places, he plainly wished me to pay him more attention there but did not force me to do more that a cursory job. He said I was getting too “brittle” which, as I thought of it, was the perfect term for my state of mind. Then he took me to bed.

Standing at the side of the bed, he handed me a shot glass and took one for himself. We drank - it was my first whisky. I did not like it, but maybe it made things better later.

Since it had never come up in all my life I did not realize that such things were forbidden by Faith. He called it “scotch,” and it was nothing like wine. How was I to know how such a beverage was made of fermented grain? They just taught us to avoid beer and wine. It was some years before I learned the truth.

He was very anxious for my body, I could see his arousal and, if I was “brittle” after a long day, then the washing aroused him, so he was very eager for me. I would say the word that applied to him was “energized” to the point where he was almost bouncing off the walls. (That was a term I had seen in print, but never in real life, until that moment.) I was in a place I had never been, with a man who was a virtual stranger, who had put a finger into me in a place I did not talk about, so I guess I was not so eager. It showed.

We kissed, he was very hungry for me. I was willing to be his wife in bed, but not that eager. Strangely, he seemed more aroused by my passivity, he said it inspiring darker desires. I told him he could have his way with me, and I would do what he wanted, but I could not be inspired to passion tonight. He heard me, thought for a moment, then asked if I wanted to be raped.

I said “No!” and he was content with my answer, but said we would revisit the topic.

 
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