A Different Me Ch 02 T

Chapter 2 - T.

This story takes place in China. I moved here when I graduated to live with my girlfriend (now wife) in her home country. After a couple years moving around South China and Hong Kong, we settled in her home city of Beijing, where we have lived ever since.

At one school I worked at, I encountered T. She worked there at the time as a college counsellor. We didn't really have much to talk about but flirted a little and got along as most colleagues do. She is about 10-15 years older than I am, but stunningly beautiful for her age.

At the end of the school year, because of how dodgy the school was, they had to move campus to the far north-east of Beijing and T. and I grew closer as we were setting up the new campus. I was in a relationship at the time and was so happy with my lot in life that I was planning to propose. Because of this, I rejected a very clear invitation from T. to enter her bedroom after a night of food and cheap Chinese beer and spirits, where told me some of her secrets to me.

Much of the rest of the story is highly fictionalised. The scene where we were preparing classrooms did occur, and there was some flirting, but it has been exaggerated greatly. The problems I describe with my girlfriend are also exaggerated - as was previously mentioned, we were very happy and had sex regularly enough to meet our needs, but I did have the frustrations that have been described in the story. In the dinner scene, we did not play the game specifically IRL, but there was a lot of sharing of secret pasts and wishes and desires. The game is used here as a structural device.

I left the school not long after this event happened and later learned that she had proceeded to fuck her way through most of the male foreign teachers for the next few years until she was promoted up the school hierarchy and could no longer do so without getting into trouble. In all honesty, I probably dodged a bullet by doing the honest thing and not sleeping with her when I could have. My relationship would have ended for sure, and I doubt I would still be with her today if we had hooked up. That said, I do sometimes find myself wondering what it would have been like if I had taken the chance to share even that one night with her. The following is one possible outcome.

I did not plan for this story to run as long as it did, but I think it is all the better for it. Enjoy!

***

As I arrived in Beijing, I was feeling of a mixture of disappointment and excitement. It would be a new experience for me, but leaving the scrambling metropolis that is Hong Kong, and the friends, colleagues, and gorgeous women I had met there was was not something I was thrilled about. We were leaving because my girlfriend was tired of the stress that came with her work and I had been forced out of my job after losing a close family member and leaving for England at short notice. Her stress had put a lot of strain on our relationship and the sex-life we had once enjoyed had completely dried up.

I had a job lined up when I arrived in Beijing, and, after we found an apartment where it was reasonably convenient for us both to go to and from work, I went for my first day on the job. The school was not exactly the most prestigious institution ever, operating out of an already dodgy "university" aimed at music students, but as a temporary stepping stone, it would do. I was met at the gate by my supervisor, who showed me around.

the other new teachers and I were then given initial teacher training and introduced to the administrative staff. One in particular stood out - T. She looked young despite having worked there already for nearly a decade. She had a great, slim body, but with an arse to die for, which was only accentuated by her office-lady pencil skirt. Her Asian features were packaged well in her round face and I was instantly attracted to her. She introduced herself as the college counsellor and shook my hand, lingering slightly before pulling away and giving me a smile.

As the year went by with the usual dramas that come with working at shady schools in China, we didn't really have much contact. I found myself working later and later to avoid being at home with my girlfriend and noticed that T. would also work late. Despite this happy coincidence, we never struck up conversation that was anything more than you would expect - casual flirting and small talk.

As the end of the year approached, it was announced to us all that we would be moving to a district in the far north-east of Beijing. This was not a popular decision and a large number of teachers and students left. I would have joined them but for a lack of other opportunities. On top of this, I had been promoted for my loyalty, so I accepted a dorm room there with a promise to my girlfriend we would see each other at weekends and be in regular contact. Deep down, I was glad of the opportunity to have some distance from her, but we had begun to grow closer again and the sex that was now occurring every few days, however uninspiring, would be a loss.

We arrived at the new campus - a sprawling complex of buildings so far in the middle of nowhere that nobody else had wanted to rent it out. Perfect for our little ramshackle school. Our new principal welcomed us on the first day and we were shown to our tiny accommodation - it was barely enough for one person to live in, but I was in no condition to complain. I unpacked my suitcase and changed into something more professional for our first meeting. There, our new boss informed us that we were to set about cleaning and arranging the classrooms for the day and would be working in pairs to complete each floor. Much to my delight, I was partnered with T., and we went together to the 3rd floor to get our classrooms ready.

We decided to work together on each room to make the work more enjoyable and, entering the first room, began to understand why we would need a whole day for the 9 classrooms. There were pigs living in hovels that had less mess and dirt to contend with. Regardless we came up with our plan of action - I would clear the mess and arrange the desks, and she would run them over with a cloth and some soapy water. Not exactly fair, but as she jokingly reminded me, I was the tall, strong and handsome man, and she was the dainty woman and wasn't built for such work.

It was a hot august day and the AC had not yet been turned on. After moving a couple of rows of tables into position and throwing some old cardboard boxes full of crap into the corridor, I was regretting my decision to wear a white, collared shirt. As the sweat began to soak my shirt, I contemplated undoing the buttons. I looked at what should have been the teacher's desk to see T. with her feet up on the desk, her black-stockinged feet free of her shoes, eating an apple and checking her phone while I finished. I looked up her legs and saw that her skirt and bunched up a little above her knee but could not see what was hidden below the desk. All I knew was that her legs looked sexy as fuck in those stockings, and I wanted to see more. She caught me checking her out and gave me a smirk before noticing my sodden shirt.

I looked down and realised that nothing at all was hidden. My shapeless, skinny, but not toned chest was on full display. T. got her revenge on me for checking her out by giving a wolf-whistle and telling me I had great tits. I played it cool, sarcastically rolled my eyes at her and told her to behave herself. We laughed a little, and I got on with the task at hand.

Eventually I couldn't take the heat any longer and asked her if she didn't mind me undoing the buttons on the shirt. She didn't look away from her phone and told me to do whatever I wanted. As I undid them, I caught her glancing my way, and upon being caught she smiled and looked at her phone again. We had flirted many times in the past, but this was new territory.

I finished my part, picked up her rag and water and handed it over to her, my shirt fully open and chest in front of her face. She vacated her seat and went to clean the desks and chairs. She kept her back turned to me as she did so, bending forward to reach the corners of the desk, forcing her arse to point towards me and her skirt to ride up her legs. I put my legs up on the table like she had and proceeded to enjoy the view as she finished cleaning the desk surfaces from the front to the back of the classroom. At this point I had to force myself to not whip my stiffening dick out to give it a little room to breathe.

She started to return to the front when I reminded her that she had yet to clean the chairs, to which she sighed dramatically and, facing me, leaned over next to a chair at the back, scrubbing it clean. I had good, if distant, view down the front of her silky pink blouse as it billowed out and saw a lacy black bra covering a pair of smallish tits. She worked from back to front this time, bending over the whole time, giving me different views of her rack as she went around. Everything became clearer as she got closer to the front of the room, and I am sure that she knew I was enjoying the sight of her sweat forming and trickling down her lace-covered breasts. She just let me look with a knowing smile and a roll of her eyes.

As she finished and approached the teacher's desk, it was clear that the heat was getting to her too. I nodded towards her now damp blouse and suggested we head back to our dorm to get changed. Getting in the lift together, she pointed out that my shirt was still open, so I hurriedly fixed it as we got to the ground floor.

We entered the dorm building together and, assuming that she was going to a different floor, arranged to meet her back at the classrooms, only for her to join me in the lift. "What floor?", I asked. We lived on the same floor and so up we went. My room was at the end, and she didn't seem to stop following me. The situation was getting weird as we kept walking in silence, glancing sideways at each other, but we soon realised that we were neighbours and went into our rooms laughing at the awkward moment we had shared, promising to meet in the hall in a minute or two.

As I took off my soaked shirt and trousers, it dawned on me that she was doing the same thing at that very moment. I pictured her in my mind removing her damp, lacy bra from those small, sweaty tits. In my head they jiggled about as she dried them off with small towel before she placed another bra that was just as sexy on top of them. I must have been fantasising about her longer than I thought, because she was soon walking into my room to ask what was taking me so long. I automatically turned to face the door and she stopped short as she saw me standing there in nothing but my pair of black, skin-tight boxer-briefs, which did nothing to hide the shape of the rock hard 8-inch cock that was now pointing at her obscenely. She stared at my cock silently, her mouth wide open in shock and awe as I hurriedly shoved a t-shirt and some shorts on and asked her why she didn't knock. Instead of apologising, she backed out the door saying only, "better hurry up, stud".

Meeting her in the hall shortly afterwards, I apologised profusely for what she had seen. She laughed my fears away and told me that I was not the first man she had seen dressed that way and not to worry about it. She had changed into a pair of sporty, comfortable running shorts that stopped mid-way between her hips and her knees and showed off her shaved legs, a loose, white, breathable t-shirt, with a pink sports bra underneath and looked much more comfortable than before. We returned to our task, and other than the occasional glance one another, there was no more open flirting between us as we prepared the classrooms - somehow there was no need for it after she had seen me the way she had.

As we finished our last room of the day, she told me about a nearby restaurant that was run by someone from her hometown and asked me if I wanted to try it out later that night. I said I would love to, but I had to head back and shower first, and so we went back to our rooms and prepared to meet in the corridor at 7. I showered and told my girlfriend I would be out with colleagues. I felt bad about the white lie, but I didn't plan on it being more than food and maybe a little flirting, so I thought it would be fine. She was either so busy with something else or cared so little that she didn't even deign to give me any response other than, 'OK'.

The state of my relationship weighed heavy on my shoulders as I put on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt to keep the mosquitoes at bay, before waiting for T. in the corridor. She didn't appear at 7, or even 7:15, so I went to knock on the door. It was slightly open and so instead I poked my head in and caught a sight I will never forget. She stood with her side to the door, looking into her mirror. She wore only a matching pair of red, lacy bra and panties. This wasn't what stuck with me, however - I had seen my share of women in lingerie at that point in my life and, while a very enjoyable sight, it has become quite normal for me.

What I remember vividly are the scars on her body and the sound of her sobs as she looked at herself in the mirror. Circular cigarette burns and longer, deeper scars from some kind of blade were evident all over her side and lower back. Shocked at the pain she must have experienced, and how she must feel about herself, I backed out of the door silently and knocked gently, asking if she was ready.

She swore loudly in Chinese and apologised for her lateness before leaving a few minutes later wearing a pair of jeans and a comfortable, chequered blouse. I told her she looked great and she gave me a deep smile, taking the lead towards the lift so we could leave. We arrived soon after at a nearby roadside Chongqing hotpot restaurant. She seemed excited to see my reaction, not realising that I was not only familiar with Chongqing food, but that I love spicy food. This wasn't my first time dealing with a Chinese person wanting to test my ability to consume something spicy, and so I decided to play along and show her how wrong she was about an Englishman not being able to handle her cuisine.

We entered and she ordered a variety of meats and vegetables, before asking me what flavour soup I wanted. I pointed at the menu and told the waitress in perfect Mandarin that I wanted the spiciest they have with an extra portion of the lamb that T. had ordered, as well as a few bottles of beer and 2 glasses of baijiu, before closing the menu and handing it back to her with a sense of finality. I smiled and gave a cheeky wink upon seeing T.'s incredulous expression. "Are you sure you can handle it that hot?", she inquired. I pointedly looked her up and down and told her in no uncertain terms that I like anything hot. She laughed at me, told me how terrible I was, and promised to out-eat and out-drink me. I bade her good luck and the night was off to a cracking start.

The drinks arrived and it was the typical Beijing beer that can be found anywhere. It was barely 2% in strength, and I had no doubt I would be able to handle myself. The baijiu, on the other hand, smelled like paint thinner and was more of a concern. She cracked open two of the beers as the food arrived and we ganbei'd over the bubbling hotpot, drinking deeply. She smiled happily as she cooked the meat with some mushrooms and began dishing it out onto our plates. The lamb oozed with chili oil and peppercorns, and she watched in awe as I put it in my mouth, chewed, and swallowed with no difficulty. It was spicy as all hell and I let the burn tingle and fade while she beamed at my ability to handle it, now tucking in herself. We drank, we ate, we talked, and we laughed until there was no food left to cook and the waitress took the pot away.

I ordered another couple of beers and moved the baijiu to the centre. She picked hers up and gestured for me to do the same, and we downed them in one. "wanna play truth?", she asked. I had no issue with doing so and asked the rules. "I get to ask you a question. You have to give me an answer. If I don't believe you, I drink. If you were lying - you drink too. If you were telling the truth - I drink again. If I don't drink that means I believe you and if you were lying, then you tell me to drink. Then it is your turn to ask me." I told her that sounded great, and she ordered more baijiu.

She went first and asked me if I had dated many Chinese girls before. I said I had had chances to go out with a few but had only been with my girlfriend. She drank in disbelief, and I told her to drink again. She did, and clearly wanted to ask more, so I interrupted her and reminded her that it was my turn now. I decided to go slower with her and start by asking her age. She looked shy at first, then admitted to being 37 years old. I did not drink and was not told to either. She was telling the truth and was about 14 years older than me.

She barely took any time to think about her next question and asked me breathlessly what had turned me on so much earlier. My inhibitions were leaving me, and I admitted that I had been thinking about her tits. She picked her drink up, before looking me in the eye and returning it to the table. I smiled, and she blushed as it dawned on her that I was once again telling the truth. I followed up that question by asking her if she had enjoyed turning me on in the classroom. Without thinking, she said she had no idea that she was turning me on, and I immediately drank. She sighed and drank too, knowing she had been caught in the lie.

Thinking hard about her next question, she asked why I was there with her, and not speaking to my girlfriend. I put my drink down on the table, looked long and hard at the wall, and replied with, "I don't know". She thought for a second about my response, looked me directly in the eye and drank, forcing me to think about my own response. I loved my girlfriend dearly, and we had been together a long time. The thought of betraying her was once unthinkable, but here I was, drinking too much and talking to T. about her tits, and my dick, and I was getting very horny from it. I knew why I was here - because my relationship was dying, and I just hadn't admitted it yet, and possibly because I was falling for T. instead. With tears rolling down my cheeks I drank, and she placed her hand on mine, smiling and letting me know it is OK.

After a moment of silence and hand holding, I asked her if she was also in a relationship. Surprisingly, she said yes. I did not drink, and she did not tell me to - it was true. She looked down at the table and sighed as she explained that she was in a long-term relationship with a Filipino man who lived elsewhere in Beijing. I remembered a handsome Filipino guy she had hired for a staff bonding activity, and she confirmed it was him. He was good looking, stronger than me, and more confident, and I grew confused by her behaviour until she told me that she was not happy with him. She did not see him enough and, when they did meet, he avoided sex because of his problems with erectile dysfunction She was frustrated by his inability to meet the needs of her libido. I told her I understood, and that my girlfriend was also not satisfying my needs - that she had never given me a blowjob, despite it being a strong fantasy of mine. I told her that foreplay was non-existent and that my girlfriend only seemed to enjoy sex with me on top and her making very little effort to make me want her. T. listened carefully and reminded me that it was her turn.

She asked me what I thought of her body. I told her that I thought she looked perfect. She drank and I told her to drink again. She did look perfect to me, but she couldn't believe somebody could see her as perfect. She cried silently as she hesitantly drank more baijiu down. "But... you haven't seen me!" she replied. I thought for a second and asked her where she had gotten her scars, holding her hand tighter and not breaking eye-contact. She didn't speak for a long time - she just looked at me, mouth open in shock. "When... how...?!" I explained apologetically that I had seen her through her door when I went to knock earlier but had left before she could notice. "So... you saw me in my..." I apologised again and said that I had seen her in her underwear earlier. After a long silence she asked "you... you saw my scars... and you still like me?" "of course, you are beautiful". Fresh tears fell down her face as she began to explain the origin of her scars.