Jake in the Box
I had been mixing drinks the first time I saw my girl, my doll. I saw her long, luscious raven-black hair down, and her smiling face was blooming like a flower in springtime. Jesus, it was love at first sight.
Just saying hi… and the natural volume at which she spoke was so sexy
“Um hi...vodka and tonic?”
“Oh uh…*gets drink* Hi, your name?”
And the girl of my dreams walked away.
She was wearing tight pink shorts. He hugged her from behind and locked the door, grabbing her, put his hand over her mouth, pulled her tight shorts down, put his thing into her, and did her really hard. Then he picked her up, stuck her on his dick, and spun her around like a corkscrew. He'd take her from the back till she screamed. They'd roll around for hours in between the sheets. He'd fuck her until he died!
The next time I saw her, was at Crazy Wok’s restaurant where she worked. I admit, I sort of followed her. She was wearing this cute, but messy uniform. Damn… I mean were all Asian dolls this beautiful?
oh! I wrote her a poem…
“I really do want you
Maybe somewhere along the way
You will too”
Okay, I admit it’s kinda crappy, but I left it in her mailbox the other day. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, she gave me that wink the other day, flirting with me, as she left the bar taking her beautiful, exotic self with her. I send my doll long, elaborate emails of how well I would treat her if she would give me the chance to be with her. Oh? That’s my cue….*winks* I’m having Chinese take out tonight.
I had eaten there a couple times. It was a newly opened restaurant, just a few weeks old, just over a month. I thought I'd seen her, just once. She'd been in a slightly baggy long sleeved shirt, with her hair tied up, hidden behind the counter, returning his receipt and change without a word. Inaccessible. Unavailable. Kind of like an ice princess. Her sweet nipples, like little angels. Does she know?
I'd just turned 21. I had a job, family, friends, was studying for an online degree, and drew manga-esque characters on the side. I liked the flexibility of online studying, which came at a lower cost than traditional study too. Partying, and getting drunk, didn't sound that interesting either.
Hi...My name is Xing Yi. I know you’ve heard his side of the story, how he’s in love with me...and that’s usually what everyone sees. A guy just in love….Not the guy that stands by my room window. It bothers me that people call this love. But...love doesn’t act like an obsession. How can it be love when I feel like an object waiting to be possessed? You didn’t see or hear about the emails about what he wanted to do to me, the way he said he’d tie me up... Because that’s what always happens. Our side of the story is never heard. We’re silent because we’re seen as submissive and ready to be possessed. I don’t want to have to wake up and question whether I’m a doll or if I’m an equal being. I’m so scared.