1943. Shanghai. A soldier of the Japanese Army happens by a club one night purely out of boredom. What he expects to find are uncouth drunks. He actually meets a beautiful African-American performer by the name of Beatrice. Throughout the next three...
Ichiro and Bea were on my brain y'all. I had to write something LOL. here are two snippets I wrote about them hehe. Hope y'all like them.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
snippet 1
He heard it. The sharp intake of breath behind him. It took everything within him not to smirk. Slowly, his fingers kept to their work, unbuttoning button after button of his uniform shirt.
"What are you doing? Hurry before the water grows cold." He said roughly, letting the shirt slip down his biceps to the floor. She still wasn't used to it. Them sharing baths. She always scurried to the far east end of the small tub, sinking low into the water as if he couldn't reach out and touch her if wanted to. Fingers took hold of his belt and eased the thin metal pin out of the small hole. Pulling it free from the metal holder, he tossed it away from him. Turning, he found her still clothed, staring at him. Lifting fingers to his zipper, he slowly pulled, the metallic sound piercing the quiet space.
"You have that look." Her voice was quiet and firm. But her eyes, how they betrayed her. They'd followed his fingers movement and now though she tried not to, her very eyeballs stuck to his hands pulling his uniform pants down his hips.
"What look?" He asked, staring at her just the same. That seemed to break whatever trance she'd been in and her eyes finally drifted away from him.
"The same as those horny dogs just outside your door."
"Horny dogs hm?" Sucking her teeth, she turned her back to him.
"How then, Bea, is a horny dog supposed to look?" He questioned, slipping fingers inside of the elastic band of his boxers.
"Don't ask something so stupid." At last, the cool air from the room touched his bottom half just as it had his upper. Nostrils flaring softly, he approached her. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her towards the tub, ignoring her audible protest.
"You've forgotten. You've gotten comfortable. Too comfortable." Turning narrowed eyes upward, she felt her eyes grow watery.
"What are you talking about?" Naked as the day he was brought into the world, he calmly walked over to his desk, neat clean, and pristine as always. Lifting his holster, he quietly removed the gun from within its confinement. At once, she began to shake and tremble, shock bleeding out the once defiance and disgust from her face. Lifting the weapon, he clicked off the safety.
"I-Ichiro..."
"Undress. Now." Swallowing thickly, she at once began to unbutton her dress and hastily pulled it off, the whole of it now pooled at her feet. Letting his eyes roam her body, he lifted them to her own.
"Panties off." He demanded, eyes cold and emotionless, his finger hugging the trigger. Taking a shaky breath, she slowly dropped equally shaky fingers and slipped the thin cotton underwear down her legs until it too met the crumpled dress. He didn't say a word as he neared and she reached behind her to grab the rim of the metal tub, fingers tightly gripping.
"If I wanted to, I could make you do whatever I wanted." He spoke quietly, eyes staring down at her small trembling body. Golden brown, her skin looked soft. As though her very skin was not skin at all but silk. He'd tried his damndest to not look at her. But...he was a man. It couldn't be helped. Out of all the women he'd seen...Beatrice was the most peculiar. A small slim neck. Soft collarbones. Pliable round breasts, perfect in size proportionate to her willowy petite body. The way her honeyed skin seemed to melt into little hard points of brown fascinated him. No...fascinated wasn't quite the right word. It was a word that still seemed hard to believe. Hard to comprehend. But his throat tightened with it. His vision blurred with it.
Down a smooth flat stomach, the curves of her hips though small flared out in a tempting display. As if to say their very design and that of her body was made and fit for every vile disgusting thought in the mind of man. Finding the bush of curls nestled in a thick patch on her triangle, he lifted his gaze to hers. She was braver than most. Others would have by now roamed their visage down his body just the same.
"Ichiro,"
"Quiet." Swallowing, she kept her eyes on his as he drew closer, a single inhale of hers fanning against his chin as he leaned forward to press his mouth against her ear.
"I could put the barrel of this gun against your head. Make you kneel." Lifting his free hand, he grabbed hold of her chin and made her look at him.
"I could make you show me that tongue of yours. Put it to work." She closed her eyes now and he let go of her chin.
"If I so chose, I could watch you suck my cock until I come all over your face. Wrap my hands around your pretty little throat and choke the life from you as I fuck you. I wouldn't be a horny dog then. I would be the very definition of a nightmare." Her breaths were shaky and her fingers gripped the tub behind them even tighter.
"Don't forget that Beatrice. Ever." At once, he backed away from her, jaw tight. She couldn't meet his gaze now, her lips parted and mouth panting.
"I'm not like one of your little songs." He had now clicked the safety on and put the gun back into his holster. Turning, he lifted a cigarette to his lips and struck a match. Blowing out the smoke, he licked his lips.
"Now," Taking another long inhale, he snuffed out the lit part of the cigarette and put it back into his pack.
