Chapter 35: Mei Curiosity*
The heavy door clicked shut, sealing Mei Lin into the opulent silence of her private viewing suite. The room was a masterpiece of curated luxury, identical to the one Hana had just entered. A plush, oversized velvet sofa dominated the space, and the air was saturated with a sweet, cloying aroma of high-end aromatherapy.
Mei Lin stood still for a moment, her gaze sweeping over the room. Unlike Hana, she didn’t feel a surge of jealousy or a need to mark her territory. To Mei, competition between women was a tedious game. She had spent her life in the cutthroat environment of the Shanghai Triads; she didn’t compete—she subjugated. She viewed the other girls not as rivals, but as variables.
Her interest in Jun was purely strategic. From her extensive investigations, she knew that Jun had been exceptionally selective. He had sent invitations to very few women, and as far as she could tell, she and Hana were the only ones from the regional slots who had been invited. She assumed the Japanese slot was a foregone conclusion, likely to be filled by one of Sora’s own subordinates. To Mei, Jun’s invitation was the ultimate prize, a sign that he recognized her value and status.
As the manager bid her farewell and left the room, Mei Lin sank into the velvet sofa. As she settled, the sweet scent of the room hit her again. Most people would have found it pleasant, but Mei Lin possessed a hyper-sensitive olfactory and gustatory system—a gift, or perhaps a curse, that made her perceive scents and tastes with an intensity that others couldn’t fathom.
She tilted her head, her nostrils flaring slightly. What is this? she wondered. The scent was complex, a blend of floral notes and something deeper, something that smelled of warmth and skin. It was surprisingly alluring, triggering a dormant curiosity within her. She made a mental note to ask the manager about the specific blend of the aromatherapy later.
Then, she pressed play.
The screen flickered to life, and Jun appeared.
Mei Lin watched with a clinical detachment at first. She had seen sexual displays before; in China, high-society ceremonies often included curated sex shows to demonstrate virility and reproductive health. She had seen the most “perfect” specimens of men and women performing for an audience. But as the movie progressed and Jun began to move, her detachment shattered.
She had never seen a man dominate like this.
It wasn’t just the physical act; it was the way Jun moved. There was a raw, predatory efficiency to his thrusts, a confidence that bordered on the absolute. And Sora… Mei had seen the “Iron Lady” in public, a woman of ice and authority. But seeing her now—shaking, moaning, and completely undone by Jun’s touch—was a revelation. Mei had never seen a woman turn on so completely, her entire being vibrating with a need that was almost visible through the screen.
As the scene intensified, Mei Lin felt a strange, unfamiliar heat beginning to pool in her lower belly. Her breathing became shallow, her chest rising and falling in a quicker rhythm. She didn’t realize it at first, but her body was reacting to the screen.
Her nipples began to harden, peaking sharply against the thin fabric of her bra and the high-fashion shirt she wore. The sensation was sudden and piercing, a sharp contrast to the cool exterior she always maintained.
Without consciously deciding to move, her hand slid down from the armrest of the sofa. Her fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her tailored trousers, slipping past the silk of her underwear. She didn’t even register the movement; her mind had gone blank, her focus entirely consumed by the image of Jun’s massive girth stretching Sora open.
She began to rub.
At first, it was a slow, tentative motion, but as Jun drove himself deeper into Sora, Mei Lin’s fingers accelerated. She began to rub her clit in a fast, rhythmic circle, the friction creating a searing heat that made her toes curl. She let out a low, shaky moan, her head falling back against the velvet.
“Nnnngh…” she whimpered, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears.
She was confused. She was a woman of logic and strategy, yet here she was, reduced to a state of raw, animal desire. Was it the scent in the room? Was it the sight of Sora’s total surrender? Or was it the sheer, overwhelming presence of the man on the screen?
She didn’t care. She pushed her fingers deeper, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps. She began to rub her nipples through her shirt, her fingers kneading the sensitive peaks. The pleasure was an avalanche, crashing over her and sweeping away her composure. She felt her internal muscles clenching, her body arching off the sofa in a desperate, unconscious search for more.
As Jun reached his peak, his body tensing as he filled Sora with a massive volume of semen, Mei Lin felt a sudden, violent surge of pleasure.
“Ahhh!” she cried out, her voice a sharp, needy moan.
The orgasm hit her with the force of a tidal wave. Her body shuddered violently, her internal muscles pulsing in a series of intense, rhythmic contractions. She felt a sudden, hot gush of fluid—a squirt of arousal that soaked her fingers and the fabric of her underwear.
As the screen faded to black, Mei Lin lay back on the sofa, her chest heaving, her skin flushed. She slowly withdrew her hand from her trousers and looked at her fingers. They were glistening, wet with the evidence of her own arousal.
She stared at the dark screen for a long time, her heart still hammering against her ribs. She had come to the Academy to evaluate Jun, to see if he was a suitable partner for her ambitions. But as she looked at her wet fingers, she realized that the evaluation was over.
She wasn’t just interested in Jun’s status or his “Prime” data. She was hungry for him. She wanted to feel that power for herself; she wanted to taste the scent that had intoxicated her.
Mei Lin closed her eyes, a small, predatory smile forming on her lips. The game had changed. She was no longer just a strategist; she was a woman with a very specific, very visceral craving.