You didn't want to become a stereotype.

After all, you were there to do a job. The long hours of overtime didn't pass you any more, nor did the occasional hire of a foreigner that bumbled around the office for six months before moving on. You'd found most of them crass at worst, earnestly clumsy at best, and invariably short-lived. Maybe the chief had been pushing towards an American expansion one year, or just looking to create a more cosmopolitan vibe for the marketing materials. Whatever happened, there was no sense getting attached to them even if you wanted to.

And you didn't want to.

Remember?

So why were you here, helplessly tangled around him in a disused break room?

Why were you wrapping your legs around him, tugging his hips closer with every rocking thrust as his broad, strong chest pressed you bodily against the table?

Why were the sounds of his soft, insistent gasps and grunts in your ear setting a fire in the pit of your stomach as you bit down on your knuckle in a precarious attempt to keep your own voice from leaking out?

Why did you have your panties dangling from your ankle, your stockings torn and your tight pencil skirt hiked up around your hips as the company’s newest hire plunged his thick, pale, almost-too-big cock straight into the deepest crevices of your pussy?

Why were you convulsing, shuddering, digging your nails into his broad shoulders as you sucked in a desperate, shaky breath, your whole body rocked by the latest in a series of increasingly intense climaxes that threatened to overwhelm you completely?

And why, oh why, were you already making plans in your head for the next time? If you stayed late tonight to work on that case file, you could spirit him out the side entrance after everyone else had gone drinking and…

Yeah. You had it bad. You weren't sure what you had, exactly - love, lust, a fleeting infatuation, a burning curiosity - but for the first time in your eight years at the company, you had other priorities above work.

Shit.

Maybe it was Alex’s demeanour. Unlike the previous string of foreign hires, he wasn't American - and the difference was night and day. Never crude or loud in the slightest, the bulky New Zealander had a unique skill known as ‘shutting up and getting on with it.’ His Japanese wasn't perfect - you had to help him with a fair number of the kanji for the first few weeks - but it was more than conversational, and unfailingly polite. Since being assigned to your office, he had slipped remarkably comfortably into his role, which primarily involved liaising with overseas reps.

Maybe the fact that he was relatively enormous had something to do with it. At a little over six foot one, and broad-shouldered to boot, he was the largest person in the office by a considerable margin. And yet with his sandy brown hair, blue-grey eyes and glasses, he somehow managed to be a charmingly non-threatening presence with an easy smile. Still, you found a pleasantly traitorous shiver running down your spine whenever he loomed over you, even if he was only standing so he could bow politely.

In short, you weren't quite sure why. But you had to get your hands on him, and you had intercepted one or two curious glances that suggested he might hold some interest too. Of course, he was too polite and too junior to act upon it, but you fancied that you'd caught him undressing you with his eyes when he let his guard down at the izakaya the other night.

There was only one way to find out…

Hey, so… if anything, this prompt is kinda light on the raceplay. I kinda wanted to turn the typical scenarios around a little bit so that I'm the fish out of water with limited language skills, the slightly exotic and desirable, maybe faintly fetishised curiosity. I'd also like to leave at the door any baggage around stereotypes of Asian women as demure, submissive wallflowers - I left your character pretty open for you to create as you like, but I tried to leave some nudges away from that direction.

Let me know what you're comfy with. I sort of prefer when raceplay is in the ‘wow we're super different and that's kind of neat’ vein rather than anything nasty, degrading or humiliating. Depending on which direction the scene goes, it could be the sort of ‘dating a foreigner attracts a lot of weird looks and my parents think I'm crazy’ slice of life, or the ‘this is a very different experience from my exes’ sex-fueled romp, or a ‘there's a fierce erotic thrill to sneaking around behind everyone's backs at work with the foreign hire’ situation.

Let me know about your character and your ideas. My other kinks include:

Lots of touching (face, hair, mouth, hands, etc), breast/nipple play and/or worship, huge loads of cum and related kinks (creampies/facials), a bit of wholesome size difference, cuddling, teasing, kissing, groping, foreplay and aftercare in general, formal/office wear and other clothing related kinks, and plenty more to be sure.

Limits generally revolve around being unclean, cruel and/or violent, and butt stuff.

I generally lean dom, but this scene can also make sense as a kind of ambiguous relationship without structured roles. There's a bunch more about me, my preferences and my writing in my post history if you're curious, because I've for sure written too much here already.