I'm trying to narrative this more or less the way I heard it from Min-Ju so there are going to be some jumps and gaps along the way. I'm not sure how long it was that we drifted off in silence. I might have actually fallen asleep for a bit. But somewhere in the early hours of the morning we started talking again. "You saw Mr Polini again there?" I asked, gently leading her. I wasn't really sure how she felt about it so I was treading carefully. "Yes," she said. In retrospect, the silence that followed should have told me more than it did; I was too sleepy and too horny to listen as well as I should have. I asked her what he looked like, and she described him as being fashionably dressed and having "David Bowie hair." This made us both giggle. She said he is tall and she thinks he is in his late 40s or early 50s. "European sounding." I explained that Polini is an Italian name; she replied, "oh, that makes sense." I don't know him; I've only seen his Facebook pic when he sent her a friend request which I encouraged her to accept, encouraged her to accept before she finally told me about all the things that happened.
Min-Ju told me how when they first arrived Mr Polini made a big show of greeting her -- "Oh, there is my Korean flower" -- and kissed her on both cheeks as greeting. This is new to her and she admitted she didn't know how to do it. "I felt really awkward," she said. "Awkward? Aw, baby, you looked amazing in your sexy dress at this fancy party -- I bet you looked great," I said, something like that. She kissed me and said, "You're sweet. I like your version better." Coaxed to tell me more, she said he led her off to the bar. She was already *****, ***** enough to have already sucked the Korean artist off at her party and kissed me, and now thrust into this unfamiliar territory. She said that when they went up to the bar (Polini had an actual bartender there) she felt embarrassed not knowing what to drink, and Polini ordered her a manhattan, which she's not used to. She doesn't know how much she drank that night.
"Did you like being with him?" I asked, eager for details. "He was very handsy," she said. Her hand was on my cock, stroking me. At my coaxing, she told me how Mr Polini kept putting his hand on her back or on her shoulder. The Korean artist had gone off to chat with others there. Her hand on my cock was making me incredibly horny, that and the little details she was whispering in my ear. "He wanted to fuck you, didn't he, baby?" I blurted. "Do you like that?" she asked and squeezed my balls. She admitted that she felt horny and aroused being led around like that, but she also felt scared and uncomfortable with him. She said it made her feel really slutty. When I asked why, she said "Because I came to the party with someone else... Because it was obvious I was so much younger. I felt like everyone assumed I was just some slut."
Hearing that, of course, just made my balls ache more.
So did something happen between them? Yes and no. At the tale end of the party she found herself sitting on the couch next to the Korean artist, with Mr Polini in a large chair next to them. Overwhelmed by Polini's handsiness she had escaped to the Korean artist's side and was sitting close to him. "I was there as his girlfriend." Polini and the Korean artist were talking. First about other things, then, about her.
I wish I could have been a fly on that wall to know exactly their conversation. I've pressed Min-Ju for details several different times to the point it stresses her out. "I was *****, baby... I don't really remember." "But Mr Polini was talking about you to him?" "Yes." "He was complimenting you?" "Yes.." "Tell me," I begged. "He said I was sexy," she said. "He said I had a pretty face... He said I had nice... tits." Her hand was stroking my cock. You could hear the hesitation in her voice as she said that last part, and I couldn't help but feel even more aroused. "He really said that to you? In front of the Korean artist?" "Yes," she said. "No, not to me -- to him." "Oh, he was talking to him?" "Yes... it was like I wasn't there."
As a good husband, this might have been a place to ask her more about how she was feeling, but I was too turned on... I wanted to know. "What else did he say?" She asked me if I liked hearing this, and I said yes and begged her to keep stroking me. "He said 'I must be great in the sack,'" she said, and told me the Korean artist laughed at that and in his somewhat stiff English agreed that "Yes, she is quite good."
"How did if feel to hear them talk about you this way?" I begged. She explained that if felt very strange, she felt unsure of herself and unsure how to act. "I bet you blushed," I said, and she agreed that she was probably red. "Were you turned on?" She paused for a while, like she wasn't going to answer, then quietly said, "yes." "I like hearing that, baby," I reassured her. "Were your nipples hard?" "Yes." I almost came just then, imagining her sitting there between these men with her nipples hard. I probably would have except she wasn't stroking me right then.
She explained that having them talk about her like that made her feel really insecure -- both insecure about how to behave and insecure about feeling judged and wanting to feel approved. She admitted to, or teased me with, snuggling up against the Korean artist, wanting to feel more clearly like she was there with him. "I felt like he was teasing me, it made me really self-conscious," Min-Ju said. "Oh? How so?" "He said something about how I must like my man." "Because you were snuggling closer to the Korean artist?" Min-Ju looked awkward telling me about this in the dark of our bed, nervous. She nodded. She explained she didn't know what to say, and it's true that when she feels self-conscious or unsure how to navigate a social situation she withdraws. Its one thing in Korea where she understands the social rules better, but here sometimes she isn't sure how to read situations. From her descriptions, Mr Polini is loud and expansive, exactly the kind of personality that confuses and intimidates her.
That's when the Korean artist spoke up and said that he "wasn't her man." You'll understand why this detail especially caught my ear, and you can imagine how this must have charged the air around them. I felt my cock pulse under her fingers. I remember pulling her naked body tighter toward mine. "Oh?" I asked, "Did Mr Polini assume you two were a couple?" Min-Ju made a little noise in my ear, either frustrated or defensive. "I told you that, baby. He knew I was married when he asked the Korea artist to bring me, at the reception." I'm not sure she had told me that detail, at least not directly at that point, but that's ok. Hearing it had a sublime effect on me, like I was floating over the bed listening to her. "So he knew you were married?" Yes. "And he knew you were with the Korean artist instead?" Yes. "And he knew you were sleeping with him?" "Yes... he must have known."
"So he was telling you you had nice tits... knowing you were there with a man other than your husband?" I was teasing myself at this point, driving in the nail. It was having an effect on her, too. I could hear it in the pitch of her voice. And feel in it the needle-like heat of her nipples against me.
"Not to me... he was talking to him," Min-Ju reminded me. "What else did they say?" I asked desperately. "He told me to stand up for him -- he wanted to look at me. He said, 'What I love about Korean girls is they always know how to dress up for a man.'" "And did you?" I asked. Min-Ju shook her head. "Not at first." Her hand rested on my cock; it felt like fire. "Mr Polini kept insisting. He said 'Don't act like you don't want to be looked at.' But I was afraid. Then the Korean artist pushed me. 'Don't be rude,' he said. And I found myself kind of standing there, between them."
"You were standing there in front of them?" Yes. "How did it feel?" "It felt kind of scary. I mean, I know Mr Polini wanted to see me. He had told me before he brought me to the party." "The Korean artist?" Yes. "What did he tell you exactly?" I asked. "That Mr Polini likes me, that he wanted to see me at the party." She said she didn't really know what to do with herself standing there, where to put her arms, and she wasn't sure just what was happening, how far this would go. Other people were still at the party. Other guests could see her standing there. Not that anything overtly inappropriate was happening.
I had to prompt her a few times to get her to tell more. She seemed reluctant, and sleepy. We were both drifting in and out of sleep a bit given the late hour.
"I do love a hot little Korean girl like you," Mr Polini said. "Come, give me a little kiss." He patted the armrest of his chair. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked the Korean artist, and he said, "Not at all." Something like that. Min-Ju was fuzzy on the details. She said she felt like she was floating, like she was standing outside of herself. She said she wanted to sit down, to hide, and she would have run off to the bathroom but she thought they might laugh or be mad.
"Did you sit?" Min-Ju bit her lip and nodded. My own heart was beating madly. Hers was, too.
"I leaned onto the arm of his chair... I didn't want to sit, but then he pulled me closer. His arm was around me. I felt the whiskey on his breath." ("Scotch," I remember thinking to myself, "not whiskey." How silly is the human mind.) Her breath was getting faster. She was visibly excited, anxious. And I couldn't believe what I was hearing... I wanted to hear more.
"Did he kiss you?" I asked. My voice must have ached with need. She nodded. "Tell me..." I begged.
"Mr Polini pulled me close against him. Off the arm rest so I was basically sitting in his lap. He pressed his face agains the side of mine. I felt scared, unsure. I remember looking to the Korean artist for guidance. I remember wishing you were there." The Korean artist was active in this too, as I learned more later. But Mr Polini held her focus. "He kissed my cheek.. his stubble... then he pulled me toward him... my lips... I let him."
God, I was close to the edge.
"Did he touch you?" "Yes," she said. I was slow to pick up just want she meant. Remember that basic aspect of Korean fashion: a dress that covers on top, no cleavage, but short. Her dress was hiked up. His arm was around her. His hand pushing between her thighs. "I felt his fingers... pushing between me. At first I was so surprised... it was public... I didn't know him... he was insistent." "Did you-- did you.. spread?" I asked. "Did you want me to?" "Yes..." I groaned. "I felt his fingers.. working between my lips.. I.. baby, I opened.. a little.. he was fingering me... in front of the Korean artist.. others were there..."
"Were you aroused? Were you wet?" Her voice was trembling. Like she was reliving it. "Yesss..." she whispered. "I was wet... and scared."
"What else?" I prodded. "They talked about me..." "What did they say?" I can't describe the need I felt. I wanted to focus on her experience but my own was too urgent. "They called me a slut." "Mr Polini?" She nodded. "And the Korean artist. Both." Her hand was tight on my cock. "Mr Polini called me beautiful... sexy... he liked my Asian lips..." All of this came out of her in bursts and fits, sometimes with long spaces in between. "He said 'I bet she gives a great blowjob'... and the Korean artist said I did. He said he could tell, with my lips... He kept talking about my Asian eyes... my mouth... He--he said he loved a Korean slut like me... a *****."
Lost in my mounting need, some of these details and some of the... not-so-great dynamics of this were lost on me at the time, I'm embarrassed to say.
"I kissed him." This seemed to come as from no where. She was explaining that she kissed him... "open mouth"... his fingers probing inside her. I came like a rocket. My own sperm shot across my belly... high up onto my chest... across my face even. The image of her in his arms was searing in my mind as I soaked in the wet smell of my cum. She held me close, her hand pressed into the wetness of my chest, and kissed my cheek.
The night ended in fuzzy blackness, for both of us. After my orgasm, she told me awkwardly how she ended up running to the bathroom. "Nothing happened," she said. "I was scared," she kept saying. It wasn't until the day after next that we talked about it again. But I'll get to that.
