Qin | Part 4

Soon, eyes spied and tongues wagged. It came as a revelation to him that Qin was running noncommittal relationships with at least three other beaus at the same time.

At first, Qin complained once in a while that a "dork" was chasing after her, and that the dork's repeated clumsiness was rattling her nerves-endings. But she claimed she felt self-conscious to turn that boy down, and asked for a practical suggestion to "kick that irritating dork off". Several days later, she confided that she was having "intimate chitchat" with some other guy, causing that "nerd" to harbor a fantasy that there would be something between them. And that nerd even stalked her once, proclaiming to protect her from any potential harassment from rivals. And a few days later, she needed some tips on purchasing men's sneakers, since she intended to pick the right size for an "ordinary friend", who she admitted had a big, wild crush on her and she in return spurred on to work out in a gym.

"Why does every one of them keep pushing me?" She played the victim now.

"Can I trust you?" The thought of Qin's buoyantly dallying with other men ignited a spasm of burning jealousy on the spot. But his self-esteem bit his tongue.

Putting on an innocent face, Qin appeared not to understand what he actually meant to say.

"Yep." She rejoined.

Qin was sitting opposite him. Now the playful side of her character was sparkling: she got under the coffee table, yanked the legs of his socks out, and tucked the cuffs around his jeans' leg openings. She never grew tired of her childish play making him funny, and she crawled to his side like a pussycat, tousled his hair, monkeyed his glasses, squeezed his arm, and leaned her head on his shoulder in her frolicsome way.

Now he couldn't squelch but let the carnal lust prevail. He unbuttoned the back of her neckband, unzipped all along down to her bosoms, unbuckled her soft cup, grabbed her creamy breasts, and caressed her rose-bud nipples. She slumped down to his thighs in a coquettish manner, lasciviously panting from the back of her throat.

Caught in a sense of guilt about his impropriety, he stopped his fingers' impish prank. But now Qin halted his retreat:

"Is that it? Nothing more? Is that the best you've got? You dummy."

At her jibe and taunt, his toxic masculinity blew a plangent horn to claim right to her mysterious delta. His fingers marched squarely into her promised land of milk and honey.

She resisted.

"No. Don't. Anywhere but not here."

He didn't budge. She threatened:

"One more move, and I'll scream."

Thanks to the sanctimonious self-discipline enslaving and castrating him, he waved the white flag and beat a gloomy retreat.

His defeated palm petted her tummy.

"I have rules. Some games I can play; others I can't. Some area you shall never tread on; a thin line you shall never walk on. Cross the line, and you are so dead."