Honey Flava

Pasang kissed him again, touching their tongues to complete the circuit of energy. She thought of the statues she had studied in other lands. Shakti and Shiva locked in embrace, their stone limbs conjoined for eternity, their lovemaking witnessed by millions of curious eyes. As the storm howled outside, Pasang wondered if the lightning would strike her for seducing this young monk. Perhaps, as punishment, they would both turn to stone. She hoped so.

They remained in yab-yum as the night deepened. The rain tapered off. In its wake the low breeze of their breathing stirred the chimes that hung at the corners of the temple. Pasang returned to her melody. This time Chokyi joined her, his low tones anchoring her wailing voice. She climbed the ladder of his chant and clung to his body as a vine wraps itself around a tree, twining her way higher into his branches as his ecstasy rolled across the sky.

Pleasure took them both. It pulsed in slow waves from the place where Chokyi and Pasang were joined and rippled across the floor of the monastery, through the walls, along the rooftops. It shook the trees, the mountains, the valleys. It summoned the wind, which swept the storm clouds from the heavens, leaving only glittering black sky in its wake.

Just before dawn, Pasang rose, fetched her satchel, and packed a bag for Chokyi. She woke him with a kiss. “Come now. Come away with me.”

“Where are we going?” Chokyi rubbed his sleepy eyes.

“To Lhasa.” Mischief returned to her smile. “Let’s go.”

Chokyi could not believe how fast the train sped across the grassy Tibetan plain while he sat in a cushioned seat with Pasang curled by his side. He looked out the window at the steep mountains all around them, a landscape he had not seen in many years, never at this speed.

Warily he looked around at the other travelers, wondering if he was conspicuous in his loose gray trousers decorated with a confusion of zippers, his puffy black sneakers, or his bright orange anorak. Pasang had picked them out in a too bright, noisy store in Lhasa. The clothes felt strange to him, but nobody else took notice of the monk in new street clothes.

On the journey to Lhasa, Chokyi had told Pasang about his life, his family, his childhood fascination with railways. Now, Pasang laid her head on his shoulder and pulled a large fleece blanket over them. Chokyi startled when she tugged at his zipper and reached inside, then cupped his lingam in her small hand.

“In all your dreams, did you ever dream of making love on a train?” Pasang whispered.

Chokyi grinned. This time he did not hide his smile.

The Mistress Charisma Treatment

JOCELYN BRINGAS

AFTER APPLYING HER RED lipstick, Shirley looked at herself in the mirror one last time and smiled. It fascinated her that a curly black wig and a few layers of makeup could transform her from boring Shirley Villanueva to tantalizing Mistress Charisma.

When she was satisfied, Shirley said a farewell to her fellow employees and left the makeup room. The he

els of her stilettos tapped loudly against the floor as she walked down the hall to her client’s room.

For almost two years, Shirley had been working at Asian Sensation Enterprises, a company designed for wealthy men who desired to explore their sexuality and fantasies with Asian women. She enjoyed her job a lot because it gave her the chance to have sex with the hottest men in the world.

Through word of mouth, her alter ego, Mistress Charisma, had created a good reputation in the company. Out of twenty employees, she was the most requested, and it was very competitive to become a client of hers.

Once Shirley reached her destination, she took a moment to flatten her skirt and put herself into a Mistress Charisma state of mind. When she entered the room, it was dim with a few candles flickering. A tall male figure stepped forward, but she couldn’t see his face.

“Mistress Charisma, it’s so nice to finally be graced with your presence,” the man said.

“Likewise. What’s your name?”

“Please call me Brody.”

“Brody?” Her voice squeaked as she said the name.

Moving closer to him, she finally caught a little light on his face. Her heart started to pitter-patter faster when she realized exactly who he was.

“Yes, I’m Brody. I’ve heard so much about you, Mistress Charisma. A few of my business partners have been clients of yours in the past. They all rave about how great a fuck you are and that you’re hotter than Lucy Liu, Kelly Hu, and Nicole Scherzinger combined.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

Shirley shivered when Brody’s cold hands touched her elbows. Looking up into his eyes, she reverted back to her high school years…

“Nerdy Shirley, Nerdy Shirley, look at how nerdy Shirley is,” the Manthis High School football team chanted as they surrounded Shirley.

“Does your mommy buy your clothes or does she make them at the sweatshop in China?” Brody Orsino teased as he flicked off the baseball cap she was wearing.