China Doll

She moved faster. I was trying to keep it back, which only pushed me closer to the edge. Coincidence or careful manipulation, I'll never know, but she pulled back in the final seconds, pumping me with her fist as I came in a long gush of semen that reached chin height before settling on my stomach, exactly in the space where I'd opened my shirt. She didn't flinch, didn't slow, pumping me harder as another surge came forward, then a final one after that. I was moaning uncontrollably, gasping and, no thread of personal composure left.

Until I heard the click of the intercom.

Our office is wired with a dedicated two-way speaker system that connects the internal executive office with the secretary station in the greeting area. Diane and I—or in these temporary times, Mei Lin—normally use it to communicate. It's designed for quick hits like dictation, or when visitors need to be announced from outside, or when one of us needs a fast answer to a question. The unit makes a loud click, followed be a squelch and the person on the sending end can talk, but can't hear anything until activation happens on my end. In those precious seconds, that feature saved my ass, as whoever was standing outside would have definitely heard my gasps of pleasure or, more likely, something akin to a mid-afternoon heart attack.

"Jack . . . you in there?" the voice asked through the speaker.

Mei Lin's eyes grew wide with surprise and she dropped my cock, her hand covered in semen. My heart pounded like a jackhammer. We both went for the tissue box at the same time. I grabbed a handful and so did she, each of us frantically trying to clean up. It took me several seconds to mop up the spill on my stomach.

"My PANTS!" I mouthed in a stressed whisper, pointing frantically. "Hand them to me."

She tossed her tissues in the waste basket and stood up, her breasts jiggling as her eyes darted about in frightened despair.

"Oh, Jaaack," came the taunting male voice over the intercom. "Too early for you to be leaving for the day. Thought you needed my help with the numbers? It's Preston. My client bailed, so I came over. You in there?"

Mei Lin tossed me my trousers, grabbed her blouse and laced it on, then frantically took it off again. "Fuck, where's my bra?!" she asked. "Where did you throw my bra when you took it off?"

I was trying to think fast. "Uh . . . There! Over . . . I mean under the printer stand!"

She stepped around me, grabbed it, and in record time had it pulled on, snapped, and the blouse halfway buttoned. I stuffed my underwear in a bottom drawer, then pulled on my pants, grabbed my socks, and was almost finished with my shoes. . .

That's when it hit me.Where did you throw my bra when you took it off? . . .her English . . . it was perfect. Gone was the fragmentation in her speech. Gone was any hint of an accent.

Then Preston's voice blared again over the intercom.

"Well . . . I guess you're not here," he said.

The only thing left was my tie. I grabbed it, looped it around my neck, and pressed a finger to my mouth in a signal for Mei Lin to stop what she was doing and be quiet as I pressed the intercom button.

"Sinclair . . . is that you?" I said.

Click—squelch. "Oh, so youare in there? What are you doing, jerking off?"

Mei Lin smiled and turned away.

"Sure, buddy," I said. "Whatever you say. Thought you were my secretary. Hey, could you grab me a cup of coffee while you're out there, maybe handle my filing?"

I was stalling for time as I tied my shoes.

A long second, then another squelch. "Very funny, Jack," Preston said.

Seconds later, the door handle rattled, followed by a knock. "Open up!" I heard him say.

"Yeah, be there in a second."

I stood up, finished with my tie and stopped by the wall mirror mounted on the back of my door to straighten my clothes. I motioned for Mei Lin to stand to the side where she wouldn't be seen before opening the door to greet Preston.

"Listen, I'm glad you're here," I said, blocking his view into my office. "But I was serious about the coffee. I'm dying for a cup. C'mon, I'll buy."

I walked out, leading him from the half-opened door, down the hallway, and around the corner to the executive cafeteria, stalling with small talk while I provided Mei Lin time for an exit of her own.

-=-=

The drive from my house in the suburbs to the office takes a little over an hour. The following morning it seemed to glide by in less than ten minutes, a symptom of too much on my mind. Preston was right; he did have some creative ideas regarding my financial mess. Not a surprise, as he's our division hotshot, always pulling down numbers the way magicians pull rabbits out of hats. For me, I could plod through a spreadsheet and understand the fundamentals of budget management, but I'll never be one of those whiz kids who stares at a page and does quantum calculus in his head. Preston is one of those guys.

I admit it was pretty exciting watching him hammer out the math, showing a bottom line improvement of over two and a half million. However, while I lag in the math department, I know my business and asked enough questions to decide what's too good to be true often is.

In simple terms, his recommendations were risky at best. It involved manipulating data to make it look like money had been made, when in reality, the revenue was still outstanding. Sort of like buying on credit cards, accumulating vast amounts of material wealth that create an illusion of success, only to collapse under the installment payment plan. It was a scheme hinged on a windfall of cash in the second half of the year, enough to make up for the fudged numbers up front. Preston's assurance almost sounded foolproof, as he'd done the same thing before with success, but I still had my doubts. Doubts or not, I was desperate and needed something creative to pull me out of this mess. I told him I'd think it over and get back to him.

Beyond the financial problems, there was Mei Lin. I was still overwhelmed by the events of the previous afternoon. Exactly how I went from providing a shoulder to lean on to losing my pants and burying my cock in her mouth wasn't exactly clear. I'm usually painfully conservative at the office, not even flirting for fear of sexual harassment accusations. Closest I've ever come to anything risqué is some after-hours phone sex with a female friend I connected with through the stories I publish on the internet. That alone seemed daring and it was all but anonymous, not to mention conducted over long distance.

I think the leap of indiscretion with Mei Lin happened because it seemed contained, if not a secret that wouldn't be easily leaked. Let's face it: if the woman can barely speak English, gossip isn't a measurable risk.

But more than that, I felt like we connected in the short time since she arrived in the states. I wanted to believe that things became so heated between us because there was something beyond just physical lust. I wanted to believe she would understand the implications of sharing our little secret and keep it between her and I.

But there was still one problem. When she asked me about her bra, she revealed something totally unexpected. That was the part that haunted me; if she had lied about her language skills, what else didn't I know?

I parked my car in the downstairs garage and took the elevator to the executive floor. It as just after eight and the halls were already buzzing with activity. I issued my usual greetings in reception and walked the corridor to my office. Mei Lin was poised at her secretary station when I rounded the corner. She wasn't alone. The college kid from the mail room was making his deliveries. His wire cart full of letters and packages was parked in front of her desk. He was doing most of the talking while she smiled pleasantly. I was sure the conversation was a front, giving him a good angle to peek down her dress.

She turned to me as I approached and we made eye contact. I studied her for a reaction. Fundamentally, our relationship had changed overnight. Having a dick in a woman's mouth will do that.

Despite everything that had transpired, all seemed normal. It was the same pleasant smile I see every morning. She handed me my daily calendar along with a stack of mail just delivered by horny-boy.

"Good morning, Mr. Handee," she said, bowing her head slightly without standing.

"Morning, Mei Lin."

I entered my office, took a seat in my chair, and started sorting through the mail. Our usual routine proceeded, with her appearing a few minutes later to bring me a cup of coffee. I accepted it, weighing my next move.

"Mei Lin," I said, as she turned to leave.

"Yes please, Mr. Handee?"

I hesitated, unsure of what I really wanted to say. "Uh . . . about yesterday. I hope you're okay?"

She looked puzzled. "O-kay?"

"I mean . . . with . . . what happened between us." She gave me her usual look of confusion. "You know . . . "

I made a pumping motion with my hand, which helped to break the tension as we both laughed.

"It won't happen again," I added.

Her face turned grave. "You mad with Mei Lin for making you feel nice?"

"No . . . no . . . not mad at all. I just want to make sure you're okay. You know, that you don't feel uncomfortable around me."

She nodded. "Mei Lin fine."

She waited for another awkward second, then turned to leave. As I watched her ass—the sensational ass that it is—I still had this uneasy feeling we were playing some twisted game of charades.

"Mei Lin," I said before she reached the door.

She turned. "Yes please, Mr. Handee?"

I had to give her credit. Whatever this act was, it was convincing.

"I think it's time we stop playing games, don't you?"

She looked puzzled. "Games?" she said. "No understand."

I allowed for a moment of silence, if only for effect.

"I think you do understand, Mei Lin. I think you understand everything I'm saying and I think you probably speak perfect English too. Yesterday . . . do you not remember asking me about your bra? Before you had time to think?"

She stared at me without answering.

"I remember. I think it went something like, 'where did you throw my bra when you took it off?' I added. "A nice, complete, articulate sentence. Queen's English if ever I heard it. Now tell me, what's really going on here? And, please . . . save the 'no understand' line for another time."

She stared at me, but this time I sensed no bewilderment. Every word I said was registering. With no answer, she closed the door. When she turned to me, her demeanor was noticeably different. Her gait was full of assurance as she moved towards my desk. She pulled back the chair and sat down, her shoulders back, her eyes fixed with mine as she crossed her legs, giving little consideration to how much of her thigh was exposed by her rising skirt.

We stared at each other for several seconds, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

"Well, Jack," she finally began. "I can call you Jack, can't I? Seeing how we sort ofbonded last night."

I was careful not to let my jaw drop. Poker face, I reminded myself. Let her take him it from here.

"Sure . . . call me Jack."

"Thanks. You're right, I do speak English. And write it also, much better than those hack secretaries you have muddling through their bosses' dictation. It always amazes how mono-lingual people can't expend the energy to learn their own language. I speak four, in case you were wondering."

This was too fucking weird.

"Impressive," I said. "So why the innocent Japanese girl act?"

"Pretty simple," she said. "You'd be surprised what people will say when they don't think you'll understand. I know all sorts of things about this office."

"Do you now? Shock me with your knowledge."

"Alright . . . you know Phelps, the head of sales?"

"Of course I do."

"Sleeping with his aerobics instructor," she said flatly.

I chuckled. "Don't think so . . . he's like Mr. family guy."

"Agreed. That's why he keeps partitions in his life. His word, not mine. Separates church and state . . . wife from mistress. He's found himself a little somebody on the side who'll let him ride her doggy style. I guess his wife's a little uptight in that department. Ms. Aerobics also wears some sort of theatre mask while they're doing it. I stopped listening when it got to that part. Too much information, you know? Evidently he pays for her apartment in the city in exchange for conjugal visits."

I didn't respond. The truth was, I had heard all about Phelps and his life partitions, although the theatre mask part was new for me too and, I agreed, too much information. He'd done some macho bragging at a happy hour after he'd thrown back one too many beers. While his affair wasn't widely publicized, it was only him and I that night and I knew very few others had the same details, which added some credibility to Mei Lin's story.

"Interesting . . . so you play dumb to learn everybody's dirty secrets?" I asked.

"Hardly. I play dumb to accomplish what I was brought here to do."

"Good secretaries are anything but dumb, Mei Lin."

"No offense to anybody on the floor, Jack, but I'm not a secretary. I have two graduate degrees, one in international business and another in international finance. I have the equivalent of your certified public accounting degree. I could run circles around most of the executives on this floor. I'm not here to fetch coffee . . . I'm here to find a snake."

My mind was racing. I tried to recount any conversations I had in Mei Lin's presence—conversations I might have forgone.

"You're losing me."

"Somebody is cooking the books here and I've been sent from corporate to figure out who that somebody is before they do real damage."

"Cooking the books? You can't be serious?"

"Oh, but I am. Serious as a heart attack."

"Why are you tellingme all this?" I asked.

"Well, I sort of have to, now don't I? Otherwise you're liable to blow my cover."

"What's stopping me from doing that anyway?"

She thought for a moment. "Well, I'd like to think you'd do the right thing. Whoever is doing this, it's bad for business, and that affects all of us, you included. But if I need collateral, I suppose there's that mutual secret we now share. You keep mine and I'll keep yours. Besides, do you really want to get sucked into this?"

"More than I already am?" I spun in my chair and stared out the window as I tried to figure out just what the fuck I was going to do. "So, what do you want?"

"Who said I want anything?"

I got up and started to pace the room. "This isn't making sense."

"No sense? It makestotalsense," she said. "Corporate knows somebody is messing around with the financials. If they send in a SWAT team to find out what's happening, the person or persons will hunker down and everything will look normal. They use me to sniff them out. Your division keeps showing profits, Jack, yet you're bleeding money somewhere. It's not making the bottom line in the end. If they don't figure out who it is and surgically remove them, damage to the company's reputation—not to mention the stock price—could be devastating, especially if it leaks to the media. Think of me as a cleaner of sorts. Here to root out the bad blood before it's too late."

"How do you know it's not me cooking the books?"

"Because you can barely add two numbers together. Don't get me wrong. You're smart as hell and a great executive. Your customers love you. But, let's be candid—finance isn't your bag. I've already looked over your spreadsheets. You really should be more careful with sharing your passwords to the network."

"I only share them with my secretary."

"And look what that got you," she said with a wry smirk.

"Yeah . . . look whatthatgot me. Teach me to think with mydick."

She was taken back by my comment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I was losing my cool. I didn't know if I felt duped or just plain stupid.

"I just feel pretty naïve, that's all. I should have seen your little tactic coming and instead I was suckered into it, probably like all the rest. Tell me, how many men have you had to screw in the office to build your snitch network, Mei Lin?"

She stared at me, her eyes etched with tension. In truth, I have no idea where my question came from, as it's definitely not in my character to be so abrasive. All I know is that I was feeling desperate. I had no real idea what I had gotten myself into and could see all too clearly how quickly I would be ruined if the tryst with Mei Lin was discovered. She had me over a barrel and the words were tumbling out of my mouth, jagged and toxic, before I had time to think.

But when I saw the hurt in her eyes, I knew I had gone too far.

She never answered my question, instead standing and marching for the door. I bolted past her, pushing the door shut with a thud before she could leave.

"Get out of my way, Jack. I mean it."

Despite her attempt to restrain herself, the tears were welling in her eyes and I can't think of many times in life when I felt smaller than I did at that moment.

"Mei Lin . . . I'm sorry. That was totally out of line."

Her chin trembled and she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. "You're right, it was out of line. Now would you move so I can leave?"

"No," I answered.

"Excuse me?"

"Can we just sit for a second so I can explain?"

She looked away and stood there motionless, her hand never leaving the doorknob.

I took her by the arm and led her to the nearby leather couch situated in the conversation area on the far side of my office. Once she was seated, I moved to the desk, grabbed the tissue box, and then joined her.

"Here," I said. "There's still some left over from yesterday."

She laughed nervously and dabbed her eyes. "What is it about this place? It's made me cry twice in two days. I'm supposed to be a pro at this stuff."

"So, yesterday . . . the tears . . . that part was real?"

She glared at me over the top of her tissue.

I held up my hands in defense. "Hey, I didn't mean it like that. It's just, I don't know what to believe right now. You're a pretty good actress."

She nodded. "Fair enough. Yes, the tears yesterday were all real. Women can be so catty."

"What happened?"

"It's not worth going into. I was just having a bad day. It can be exhausting having to portray this double existence day in and day out, and it's even worse with no friends. Most days it doesn't bother me, as I can't be myself anyway, even after hours, but yesterday, it just all got to me."

"I'm sure it is hard. . . and I'm sorry for my part in upsetting you. It's just, all this isreally unsettling. But I have to hand it to you. We've spent a lot of time together and you had me fooled, right up until the eleventh hour."

We sat in silence as she twisted at the tissue between her fingers. "I need to tell you something, Jack."

After everything that happened, I only wondered what she had to say next. "Go ahead."

She looked into my eyes. "That thing that happened between us yesterday . . . that was betweenusand nobody else and it had nothing to do with what I'm here to do. You're the only one I've been intimate with in this office. Mistake or not, I didn't do it to have something to hold over your head. I did it because I like you and I felt a connection between us."

I smiled. "I like you too."

"I've never done anything like that before," she continued. "It was just a really spontaneous moment and I went with it, which iswayout of character for me. I'm usually too caught up in staying in control to ever do something so daring."

I laughed. "I knowexactly what you mean. Believe me, it was further that I've ever gone in a situation like this, you can be sure of that."