Mellow Yellow

With the abrupt departure of the dragon lady from my life, I entered a sexual desert. Mrs. Nguyen was an older woman but she undeniably had some talent. I was always bothered by her "businesslike" approach, however. I wanted to get involved with a Vietnamese woman but develop something deeper than a business arrangement. I wanted a relationship at all levels. That was what I wanted. Intellectual fulfillment as well as getting into the woman's pants. Yes, Mrs. Nguyen had hooked me on Vietnamese women and I wanted more. Hanna came to my rescue with a phone call one day:

"Paul. I have friend same age you. I want you meet my friend. You come Sunday and have dim-sum with Ted, Mei-Ling and me?"

I have never been a fan of blind dates as I always ended up with my "good buddy's" girlfriend's ugly cousin. I had met so many women with a "nice personality" this way that I was toying with the idea of turning down Hanna's invitation. Still, Hanna was good hearted and I wanted to meet Ted after Hanna told me so much about him. I thought I needed to assure him that he was on the right track with Hanna.

Hanna said to meet on Sunday at 10:00 am. Well, even if the blind date didn't work out, the food would be good. As Mrs. Nguyen figured out, my personality consists of lust for oriental women and oriental food.

Hanna picked the biggest, most popular Chinese restaurant in the city. Hanna and Ted had arrived already and my blind date had their back to me. I picked my way towards their table between the chaos of dim-sum carts, steam carts and toddlers exploring the floor. Hanna, as usual, spoke first:

"You find us easy? Please meet Ted. Is he like I tell you? I want you meet my friend Mei-Ling? You like her?"

"Hanna," I said, "you really are something. I haven't even been introduced to Mei-Ling and you are asking me questions about her already. Let me do it. I'm Paul."

Suddenly, I realized that I hadn't really looked at my blind date. She turned to me and extended a soft, gentle hand. She certainly wasn't Hanna's ugly cousin. In fact she was the prettiest oriental woman I had seen outside movies. Her hair was styled and her clothes were fashionable. She was younger than Hanna and more graceful in her movements.

"Hi Paul. I'm Melinda Tran. Like Hanna, I westernized my given name. Most Canadians find Melinda a lot easier to say than Mei-Ling. Sit down and let's order. There's been some great-looking stuff go by on the carts."

I was so taken aback by Melinda's appearance and her smooth, almost accentless, English that I must have been standing there like an idiot. I couldn't focus on anything to say. I think I said something when I sat down but it got lost as Hanna started her rapid-fire monologue. I must admit that it wasn't as graphic as what she had been telling me for her story.

Hanna was very much in love with Ted, I could tell. Hanna told us story after story about Ted's virtues, his good taste in all things and how they planned to move in together. Ted must have loved Hanna very much as well. He had infinite patience with Hanna's long stories, held her hand when she told something sad and gently corrected her English when it became too fractured. I really didn't get to learn much more about Ted than what Hanna had told me. From all appearances, he was as kind, loving and confident as she had pictured him.

I also didn't get to learn much about Melinda at the meal other than she was a seafood junkie. Hanna's stories were so long and involved that it was difficult to direct any attention to the lovely woman beside me. Once Melinda did comment that I used chopsticks very expertly. I managed to tell her that I had learned how at the University, which had a number of students from Hong Kong. Melinda managed to say that she had been to University in Saigon before Hanna started another story. The food was great but I was frustrated that I couldn't get to know the first blind date that I was ever interested in.

Ted and I split the bill and we got up to leave. I then started to look at Melinda again and noticed she was about 5'-4", taller than Hanna but shorter than an average white woman. I will never know for sure why Hanna dominated the dinner table conversation. Hanna could be a compulsive talker as I well knew. On the other hand, perhaps Hanna's plan was to talk up Ted and generate for Melinda as much interest in white men as I had in oriental women. Plan or compulsion, Hanna must have realized that she hadn't given us a chance to talk because she turned to us and said:

"Paul. You please to take Mei-ling home? Ted and I go shop now."

I said I didn't mind at all if Melinda didn't mind my old car. Melinda smiled and said she hoped the car could make it to the other side of the city. On the way to Melinda's place, she opened up a lot. Melinda explained that she had a Chinese given name and a Vietnamese surname because her father was Vietnamese and her mother was Chinese. Melinda felt that because of her mixed parentage, she had not been accepted by either the Vietnamese or the Chinese.

Her father worked for the government, which was why she had had to leave Vietnam. Her father had used his influence to get Melinda a scholarship to the University. She had studied English language and literature, hence her flawless English. Although she said she had trouble meeting men, Melinda had a boyfriend in University and they had planned to get married. He was Chinese but his family disapproved of Melinda and broke up their affair. I thought to myself, "I don't think his parents ever got to meet you or they would have changed their minds".

When we got to Melinda's place, I said: "Hanna's a great person but she really doesn't play cupid very well. Can we try and get together again on our own? I belong to an art film club society they are showing a Fassbinder next Saturday. From what you've told me, I think that might be something you would like"

"Yes, that sounds great. And dinner will be my treat this time. We'll go to a Vietnamese restaurant before the show. It's a lot quieter than the Chinese restaurant we were in today so we can talk more. Plus, you'll get to see the Vietnamese half of me. I'll call you Friday and we'll make arrangements."

That week, I just couldn't think about anything else but Melinda. At university, I had never had much to do with the female students from Hong Kong. They were outnumbered three to one by the Chinese male students and were in great demand. I hung a bit with the guys as I was interested in oriental art and culture to further my writing career. It was an effort to be friends with Chinese students. They were insufferable nerds as they were usually studying something like engineering or physics. They really had no great interest in art or literature as Melinda did. So really, I had never met a person from the Far East like Melinda. Mrs. Nguyen didn't count as she was neither intellectual nor an interesting person. I wondered if any passion lurked beneath Melinda's cultured exterior. I was sure this evening would be interesting, even if we didn't connect.

Melinda called Friday evening and we arranged dinner and the art movie. I picked her up and we went to a restaurant in the "Little Saigon" area of the city. I can't tell you the name of what we ate as Melinda ordered it in rapid-fire Vietnamese. Take my word for it that it was good. I think that Melinda had been speculating about me during the week as I had been about her. She had all kinds of questions about me, my work, my University days. I managed to answer everything truthfully except the part about my only having relationships with white women. I don't think that was a real lie because Mrs. Nguyen and I never really discussed anything but sex. That's not a relationship. So, I said:

"No, I guess I have never really been able to get to know a Vietnamese woman, except for Hanna and she's already taken."

"Well, I'm not a good example for you as I'm half Chinese and half Vietnamese. I think I have the best of both cultures. My father said that he always wanted Chinese working for him but he would rather go and party with Vietnamese as they knew how to have fun. So there you have it. I'm a good worker and you can play with me."

I wasn't sure if the double-entendre was deliberate but it was time to go to the movie. Melinda's education in literature seemed to lead her to find sexual symbolism in features of the movie I thought were entirely innocent. It made me curious as to what thoughts inhabited that mind when she wasn't watching Fassbinder. When I took Melinda home, she said she had had fun and that I should call her again when I had someplace interesting to go. She was free on weekends and evenings except Tuesdays and Thursdays, when she had classes. She was trying to upgrade her degree and get into nursing. Melinda gave me a sisterly kiss and asked me again to call her.

Things went very slowly along with Melinda for a number of weeks like that. Melinda taught me more about sexual symbolism at the art gallery, the movies and in books we had both read. Sometimes listening to Melinda, I would conclude the whole world was one big blue movie, if you knew where to look. Despite that, Melinda would never get more physical than holding hands or the kisses on the cheek. You might say that I'm not aggressive or that I'm a slug or I just don't have a proper sex drive. None of that is true. My passion for Melinda grew every time we dated, despite her reluctance to touch. On the other hand, maybe Melinda wanted the passion to build below the surface. From my friendship with Hanna, I knew that she took things very slowly with Ted. Ted had been very patient with Hanna and I had the same barriers of culture and race to overcome. I had every intention of ultimately making love to Melinda but I knew it would not be a quick seduction. The truth is that I was enjoying taking my time. Melinda was intelligent, fun to be around and the lack of sexual tension made us comfortable.

Then it happened. One night, I invited Melinda in for coffee after going to a show. Melinda didn't have the same aversion to coffee as Hanna did. I was playing my guitar for Melinda and singing a song that was somewhat romantic. Melinda stopped me and asked:

"Hanna tells me that you are writing a story about her romance with Ted. Can I read what you have done so far? They are such a great couple together. I want to know how to be like them"

"Melinda, it's a love story but it's more like erotica than a Harlequin Romance. My erotic stories aren't great literature and they are very graphic. I write them for my own pleasure and not for the public. Are you sure you want to read Hanna's stories?"

Melinda insisted she wanted to see what I wrote. I got the drafts from my computer and Melinda started to read. I wasn't sure how Melinda would react to erotica. Her taste in the written word seemed to tend to existentialist literature. I didn't have long to wait. Melinda started to breathe more quickly and I have never seen oriental eyes open so wide. I even think I detected some sweat on her high, smooth forehead. Melinda's body language was becoming softer and more sexual. I realized that my story was having an effect on Melinda.

"That's remarkable, the two of them. Do you know how you've captured Hanna perfectly when you write exactly as she talks? Everything she tells me about her and Ted must be true then."

Melinda put down the papers and she paused as if she was in deep thought. "Do you think they're really like that when they're alone?" Melinda queried.

"I can't say as I was never in their bedroom taking notes. I only wrote it down afterwards. I tried to put it in Hanna's words exactly as she told me. To answer your question, I don't have any reason to think that Hanna was making all this up. You see the two of them together."

"That's not what I meant. Do you think that Ted really eats Hanna's pussy? I, mean, she has told me that Ted eats her pussy but I didn't believe her until I read it here."

Melinda turned again to Hanna's tale and started to read again. "There, Hanna's kissing Ted's dick and putting it in her mouth. I've never done that."

I couldn't believe my intellectual literature major was using words like dick and pussy. I decided to push a little: "Haven't you ever had your pussy eaten?"

Melinda didn't miss a step: "No, I never have. My boyfriend in Saigon, we did have sex. I'm not a virgin if that's what you were wondering. We did try a few things but never oral sex. I just don't think that oriental guys like oriental sex. Actually, I don't know. I just don't have much experience. Do all white guys eat pussy?"

Melinda wasn't teaching me about the dirty parts of the movie any longer. Now she was the eager student asking me all sorts of questions about oral sex and white guys.

"Melinda, I can't talk about every white guy but I can tell you about myself."

"OK, tell me about what you do with oral sex. You have to tell me about the women you've been with. Have you ever had sex with an oriental woman? Did you and Hanna ever have sex?"

I had to get around this without mentioning Mrs. Nguyen. "Hanna is like a Vietnamese aunt to me. She's older than me and I don't think we would connect sexually. Anyway, she has Ted and I wouldn't steal his woman."

"Paul. I want you to go to the STD clinic and get a test. I want to try oral sex with you."

This was what I was waiting for. I went over and sat down beside Melinda. I said:

"Melinda, I have been hoping for some time that our relationship would become deeper and more intimate." Or something like that. I was really excited that this beautiful oriental woman wanted me physically. I asked:

"Melinda, why me? Why wouldn't you want to try it with someone Chinese or Vietnamese? Can't you find someone at the University?"

I knew I was in dangerous territory. I was asking a question I might not like the answer to. I had to know and I was trusting that Hanna had talked up my personality as well as the prowess of the white male.

"Oriental guys want younger women than me and, sorry to tell you, the white guys I've met are too aggressive and act like total jerks. It seems that any guy, when he finds out that I know more than him, isn't interested in me anymore. I'm not going to act like a bimbo just to get a guy. But you're different. I think that you like a smart woman and you haven't acted like a jerk at all."

I didn't say that I had learned not to push from Ted. That was the first time she had indicated she was interested in me.

"Melinda, I think you should also go to the doctor, get checked out yourself and either fitted with a diaphragm or get contraceptive pills."

The weeks spent sizing each other up had not been wasted. I learned that Melinda always alternated between the passionate and the practical and that was what how I had to treat her now.

"You're absolutely right. Your advice is absolutely right. We both need to get checked out and we need some protection. I really want you to eat my pussy, Paul. I really have gotten to like you very much. You're different from any guy I have ever met.." She kissed me and then she moved away as if she was afraid that the passionate side of her nature would take over.

"I can't wait until we get together again." With that she was gone.

The evening came and I drove across town to Melinda's place. Melinda treated all this as serious business. As we traded our tests, I noticed that she was slightly nervous. Both tests came up with the right answers but I knew I would have to overcome her nervousness. I sat Melinda down and we traded some small talk but she abruptly got up and said: "I'm going to get ready in the bedroom. I'll tell you when you can come in."

I must have waited 10 minutes and then she quietly said "I'm ready now." I went into her bedroom and I could see in the dim light that she was under the sheets with her back to me. I started to undress. Melinda never looked at me and never said a word. I said as softly as I could: "I'm ready now and I'm getting in with you." As I slipped into bed, Melinda turned on to her back and lay there rigid with her legs open.

"OK, eat my pussy please."

I couldn't believe the situation. What kind of sex education did they give in Vietnam? And for all the literature Melinda had studied, hadn't she ever read the Kama Sutra? I said: "Melinda, we have all evening to do this. Don't be in such a hurry. Please relax a little bit. This is something to be savoured, not rushed. I moved closer and she turned her back to me but she didn't pull away from me. I followed Ted's lead and put my arm around Melinda's naked body, making certain I didn't touch anything vital. My first discovery was that Ted was right. An oriental woman's skin is smoother than a white woman's. Melinda felt like she was covered in satin or silk.

As Melinda began to relax, I started to kiss her between the shoulder blades. I detected movement towards me and more pronounced breathing. I kissed up and down that expanse of light brown skin that was Melinda's back, enjoying each caress of her smoothness. I couldn't get enough of the strange feel of a young oriental woman. Mrs. Nguyen certainly felt smooth but not as smooth as Melinda. I moved my hand over Melinda's hips and along her thighs. She was now not just breathing loudly but definitely sighing with each caress. I moved my hand over her tight little bum cheeks and around her stomach. Then I kissed Melinda on the shoulder, along the shoulder and up her slender neck. While I was occupying her attention that way, I moved my hand towards her tits. I knew that Oriental women had smaller tits than white women and I was prepared for how Melinda's just fit my hand. I wasn't prepared for how firm Melinda's tit was. At the same moment, I kissed behind Melinda's ear, making sure that she got some breath in the ear.

"Oh, Paul, Oh Paul." was all Melinda said. In fact, the OH's outnumbered the Paul's about four to one. Melinda was now completely relaxed and eager for her first lesson in love. I turned Melinda towards me and kissed her on the mouth. Melinda responded by opening her mouth. I played with my tongue along her lips and teeth and slowly started to penetrate her mouth. The taste of Melinda's mouth was sweet, like star anise. Suddenly she thrust her tongue into my mouth and eagerly explored me. I don't know if she had ever kissed her Chinese boyfriend like that but she certainly enjoyed it with me.

I was the one to move away and said "I want to kiss your firm little boobies." I sensed that Melinda was still a child as far as sex was concerned and a bit of childish talk would help her lessons. Then I started to kiss those tits that had so fascinated my hands, They were so firm that they stood up even when Melinda was lying on her back. I kissed all around, I caressed all around, working my way to the brown tips. Melinda's OH's started to have inflection and, even though Melinda was by now totally inarticulate, I was receiving total communication as to what she liked and didn't like. On the other hand, I didn't find much that Melinda didn't like.

Finally, I got up and moved to her legs, which she now eagerly parted for me. I moved between her legs and then I lifted up her knees. "Why are you doing that?" Melinda asked. "It puts you in the right position so I can eat your pussy better" I moved up between those smooth, willing legs and came face to face with the second oriental pussy of my life. If Melinda and Mrs. Nguyen were typical, I say that oriental guys have a real treat with their women. They have hardly any bush. Their beavers resemble the beavers of white jail bait. Melinda later assured me that her beaver was natural. She didn't trim her bush at all. Then her smell hit me. It was faintly like nuoc mam, not as strong as Mrs. Nguyen and pleasant. I could have breathed in the aroma of Melinda's beaver all night but I had work to do. I opened her firm, tight outer lips. The inner lips were pronounced, coming to a sharp inverted V at the top.