Young Asian MILF is coerced by son’s arrogant white friend

“Wonder how he’s feeling about it,” Steve mumbled.

“That’s what worries me,” I fretted. “Because if Johan were to do something… something to psyche Danny out tomorrow…”

“Would he do that?” Steve asked. “He never seemed like that kind of kid.”

“He’s not the kid we remember,” I muttered. “At this point, I don’t really know who he is…”

“Well, did you try talking to him?” Steve asked. “If he’s upset about losing his spotlight to Danny, then maybe he just needs someone to let him know he’s still special.”

“You… you think I should do that?” I whispered in shock, my hand moving to cover my mouth.

“It couldn’t hurt,” Steve yawned. “You’re good at making people feel special.”

“You want me to make him feel special?” I said, almost in disbelief at the words coming out of my husband’s mouth.

“Sure,” he said sleepily. “If it could help Danny, then why not?”

“Umm… okay,” I mumbled, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. “If you think that’s what I should do…”

“I gotta go back to sleep, babe,” Steve said. “But don’t worry about it so much. There’s only so much that you can control.”

“I suppose,” I said. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he said, hanging up the phone.

Setting the phone down, I felt for a moment completely unmoored, as if I had suddenly lost my balance.

Of course, Steve had no idea of the real situation that had developed between me and Johan, no clue as to what had already happened. And yet, he had suggested that I do almost exactly what Johan wanted: go and talk to him. In fact, Steve had gone a step further, proposing that I try to “make him feel special.” How was I supposed to interpret that?

I had hoped that speaking to my husband would help me resolve the conflict raging inside me, but instead, it had added fuel to the fire. Steve had given me explicit permission to go and talk to Danny’s friend, to make him feel special, and to help Danny, if I could.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, pensively running a hairbrush through my long, silky brown waves, I recalled the last thing that Steve had said to me: “There’s only so much you can control.”

I can control this, I thought to myself resolutely.

I can go and talk to Johan because I am in control. He doesn’t have the photos anymore. He can’t use them to manipulate me any longer. I’d slapped him earlier and shown him that he couldn’t take advantage of me. I was an adult woman, happily married with children, and he was just a friend of my son’s. He was nothing that I couldn’t handle.

Steve is right, I thought. I can go talk to him, and I’ll make him see that he doesn’t need this silly Rubik’s Cube record any longer. Then, tomorrow, he’ll be the bigger man and pass his crown to Danny gracefully. That’s what I’ll do. That’s what will happen.

Setting the hairbrush down, I checked myself in the mirror. I was dressed in cute, normal clothes, a sleeveless blouse and a pair of jeans, some black sandals on my feet. As always, my hair and makeup looked nice, but I wasn’t wearing anything provocative or revealing. I’m just a pretty, unassuming, 34-year-old Korean woman, here at the hotel with her son.

Please wait…

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