Social Studies

She slowly looks around the room, not even having entered through the doorway yet, taking in the dozens of pictures of bathing-suit clad girls plastered over the walls, the beer ads and the movie posters. "Hey," I shout. "Come in before someone sees you." I grab a fresh beer from the mini-fridge. "You want this?"

She slowly steps in, still wary of anything that might crawl under her feet. She shakes her head, "No thank you, I'm... I'm fine."

"Whatever, lemme know if you change your mind." I swing my feet back up onto the bed, lay back, my free arm behind my head, watching her with eyes half open. "Do me a favor though, shut the door."

"I'd rather it stayed open."

"And I'd rather you weren't here, but we can't always get what we want. Now close the fucking door."

She rolls her eyes and pushes the door shut behind her.

"So why are you here, again?"

"Jake, I think we got off on the wrong foot." She glances around the room again. "Can I sit down?"

"Make yourself at home."

"Thanks." She takes off the cap and shakes her head a bit to let her hair drop to her shoulders. She then cautiously pulls the rolling chair out from under the computer desk and pushes it over next to the bed, about halfway, so that when she lowers herself into the chair, she's sitting perpendicular to my hips. "Jake, listen to me. You need to understand... the things you've been saying to me, they're not just offensive to me. They're offensive to everyone, even to you. By saying them, you're making yourself sound stupid and ignorant. I'm trying to help you."

"Um, yeah, thanks, I'm good. Nice of you to try though."

"Jake, what do you want to be when you get out of here? You're going to go into business, or something right?"

"Yeah, already got a job lined up at my dad's firm in Connecticut, actually. I'll have to start out as a junior broker, but he's the CFO there, so I'll be a senior broker in a year, general partner after three. Pretty good deal - half hour from Manhattan, starting salary is 60K plus commissions."

She seems to pause for a moment when she hears how much I'll be making but she quickly moves on. "Okay fine, but Jake, you can't keep saying these kinds of things, not when you get out in the real world."

"Sure I can. You should hear the shit those guys were talking about when I interned there this past summer. Shit you wouldn't believe." I take a big swallow of my beer, enjoying the warm haze settling over my body. She's actually starting to look kind of cute, in the way that I always wanted to fuck the annoying hippie bitch who taught my freshman English class. "There was this one guy, Scottie J. - he used to fuck a different girl every weekend, bring them to parties and bars and shit, call them his girlfriend. Everyone knew they were hookers, but they were pretty hot ones. Escorts, you know? Not street girls. And then he'd come into the office on Monday and tell everyone all the nasty shit they did. It was so fucking funny."

"But you don't want to be like that, do you? It must have offended you in some way, hearing him talk about women like that, hearing the words he would use to describe them, the names he would call them and how he treated them? Didn't that offend you at all?"

"No, not really. I mean they really were hookers, know what I mean?"

"Alright, leave that aside. But what about women who aren't prostitutes. Women like me, and your classmates. You wouldn't use language like that for us, would you?"

"Why not? Have you seen the way the girls around here dress? Gets a little confusing when you're dressed like a whore but you get all upset when a guy treats you like one."

"Whatever Jake, listen. Yes, some of the girls on campus dress inappropriately. It's embarrassing for me too. I get offended by the way some of them dress, it's stupid. But I'm not dressed like that. Most of my friends don't dress like that. Why do you keep treating us like you do these other women? And why do you keep using these racial stereotypes that are hurtful and offensive and derogatory and have been used for like... so many years... by white men like yourself to oppress and degrade women like me?" Her tone is pleading now and she's making these frantic open-palm gestures with her hands so passionately with her face flushed. "Does that make you feel like a man?"

It's all I can do to keep from laughing. "Yeah, I guess. Like I said, it's not nearly as bad as the shit some of the guys around here say."

"Like what, Jake? You think two wrongs make a right? What do they say that's so bad that it makes you think it's okay to say things like you did to me."

"Lemme think." I take a big swallow of beer. Shit, it's getting a little warm. "Well there's this bro named Patsy down the hall. He had this chink slut in here the other night... excuse me, sorry... oriental slut in here the other night, this sophomore girl from his Finance class. We could hear them up and down the hall. She must have been sucking him, and he kept calling her these names, telling her she was a filthy little chink whore, that she was sucking his hard white dick so good, that she was the best little slant cocksucker he had ever had. And she must've been loving it."

"Why do you say that?" She's leaning back a bit in her chair now, crossing her arms.

"Because after she finished sucking his dick, they started fucking, and then it was both of them talking. And his door must've swung open at some point, 'cause everyone in the hall could them both as clear as day. She was calling him her white stud, talking about how hard his white dick was and calling herself his 'little yellow bitch.' It was funny as hell."

I notice Amy pausing for a moment, as if trying to make sense of what she just heard.

"But Jake, that doesn't make it okay for you to talk like that, just because they were saying things, it's still offensive to me." She looks over at the door, seeing it's still shut. "Hey, do you mind if I take off my hoodie? It's a little warm in here."

"Yeah, no problem - you sure you don't want a beer, I'm gonna get a new one." I stand up and grab a couple beers, handing one to her as I move back to my bed. She unzips her hoodie and carefully takes it off, twisting as she does this and giving me a great view of her medium-sized tits pressing against her thin t-shirt, the outline of her simple bra clearly visible through the thin cotton. Her skin is a nice dark tan contrasting with the white shirt. She twists open the beer and take a long sip, swallowing hard, clearly savoring the ice-cold liquid in the warm room. I watch her for a moment, and she catches my gaze. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. You just looked like you needed that."

"What, the beer?"

"Yeah, the beer. You looked like you needed the beer. Like it felt good going down your throat."

"Jake, stop it. That's what I'm talking about." She takes another long swig. "You say things like that, and you pretend it's not offensive but it is. We both know what you're really saying. It's going to get you in serious trouble someday."

"What? What'd I say? I said you looked like you were enjoying the beer."

She manages a slight smile, her cheeks already a little flushed in the typical Asian blush from the alcohol. "That's not exactly what you said, and you know it. You said it looked good going down my throat or whatever. You know exactly what you meant."

I smile, "Well, I didn't think you'd even catch it. You're surprising. Most girls just giggle when I say shit like that."

"I'm not most girls. And I'm not going to let you get away with saying things like that to me. It's not right, it's offensive and you need to stop."

"Why? What's going to happen to me if I keep saying things like that? You think it'll get me fired from my job someday? Hell no. I'm set for life, all I need to do is get my MBA and I'm good to go. It's a free country, I can say whatever the fuck I want."

"Well, it's just not right. Men have been using words and language to oppress women for so long. White men especially have been using power and words to keep minorities and women under their collective thumb. Do you really want to keep perpetuating this white male power system?" She's almost three-quarters done with the beer, and she's starting to talk a little louder.

"What 'white male power system'? If anything, straight white men are the ones being oppressed in this day and age."

"Whatever." She almost literally throws her hands up as she looks away, frustrated. It's pretty funny. I smirk at her, enjoying the toss of her hair as she turns her head, watching as it slides along her neck. Then she turns back to me, taking another giant swig and almost finishing her beer. "How would you like it if everyone treated YOU that way?"

"I dunno, no one's ever tried. You want another beer?" Before she can answer, I grab one, twist it open and hand it to her. She takes it without comment and takes a small sip before continuing.

"But what if they did? What if I said to you, 'Hey, look, you dumb white jock, why don't you go fuck a sorority girl.'"

"Um, that makes no sense. I'd just be like, 'Okay.' I wouldn't be offended."

She looks a little flustered. "No, but I mean... but you know, it's still a stereotype, the dumb white jock who just comes to college to sleep with sorority girls and go to work for his dad's company. It's just like you!"

"Well yeah, so what? I don't care."

"But try to put yourself in my shoes. You're perpetuating stereotypes that are hurtful, when you talk about 'gooks' or 'chinks' or when you act like all Asian girls like being with white men, it just isn't true. It's just a stereotype and it's offensive." She's almost shouting at this point and it's kinda funny. She's downed almost half the second beer and the flush is definitely showing on her tan cheeks.

"Stereotypes exist for a reason, don't they? I mean, no one would've invented the idea that all oriental women like white dicks if there wasn't some truth to it, would they?"

"That's so ignorant. And stop calling us 'oriental' please. It's 'Asian-American'."

"But what if I'm talking about someone from China? They're not 'Asian-American.' "

"Fine, yes, if you're talking about a Chinese person, call them Chinese or Asian, just stop saying 'oriental.' 'Oriental' is a carpet, not a person."

"Yeah, whatever." Truth be told, I actually thought "oriental" was the PC term, but I guess these people keep changing what they want to be called without telling the rest of us, just to keep everyone guessing. "Anyway, it wouldn't be a stereotype if all 'Asian-American' bitches did not in fact love white cock. Like I said."

"Goddd!" She chugs the rest of her beer, almost choking on it as blood rises in her face. "We don't all love white guys, you bastard! My boyfriend is Asian-American and most of my friends date Asian-American men, so what does that say about your stereotypes?"

I give her a condescending smile, "I dunno, maybe you and your friends are the exceptions that prove the rule. Or maybe you all know you secretly love white guys, and so you go out of your way to all date Asian guys so no one knows the truth. Which by the way seems pretty racist on your part if you ask me."

"Jake, that... that's just silly. That doesn't even make sense!"

"Makes sense to me. You know deep down that you love the feel of a big white cock in your mouth, but you wanna be a special snowflake or whatever so you hide it, and go and date some limp-wristed Asian boy instead so no one knows that deep down all you really want is some big white frat boy's dick deep inside that tight yellow pussy." I smile again, my voice calm while I sip smugly away at my beer.

"Jake I'm serious, stop talking like that. I don't know why you won't listen to me, I'm trying to help you so please try to understand..."

"Tell you what. I'll listen to you, I promise. But only if you take off that stupid t-shirt."

Her face suddenly takes on an exaggerated look of indignation. "W-What?" She stammers with a nervous laugh. "Uh yeah, like that's ever going to happen."

Her embarrassment gives her away. Any other bitch would've gotten dead serious if she were really upset by the idea. But no, this one was getting excited. Typical slut in denial.

"What, what's the problem? It's hot in here, the t-shirt's distracting me with that stupid writing I can't read... and besides you got a sports bra on underneath, I can tell. It's basically just another shirt. I'll listen, I promise."

"God!" She stands up and grab another beer from my fridge, opening it and taking a big swallow before placing it down on my desk, spilling it just a little. Then she just glares at me for a while, as if trying to read my expression. But I just stare right back with the same smug confidence, raising my eyebrows expectedly as I take another sip, and that's when she turns away from me and quickly peels the t-shirt off over her head. She drops it on the floor and turns back to me, bringing the beer with her, her free arm crossed over her chest, moving back to her seat next to the bed. All too easy.

Her sports bra is white, and actually shows off some decent cleavage. I figured this had less to do with her actual breast size though, which admittedly wasn't bad, but more to do with her top being a size too small. For someone who hated being objectified, she was sure making it easy. She tries to cover herself with her arm while she sips the beer, but after a minute she forgets about it and lowers her arm. Her upper body has a nice tan, probably natural. Her stomach is good and flat but not concave, her body slim but still curved enough where it counts. All in all, not bad for an oriental chick.

"Now..." she says with a sigh, "you promised to listen."

"Okay, you're right. I'm listening."

She drinks again. "So yeah. Everytime you say something like that, about how all Asian-American women love white... 'white cock'... it hurts me, it hurts you... and it just hurts everyone. Don't you see that? All you're doing is perpetuating negative stereotypes about Asian-American women, and that hurts us all."

"How does that hurt me?"

"Because it makes you part of the stereotype too. It's like saying that all white men like Asian-American women, you know?"

"But we do. Or all the white guys I know do. Y'all are fucking hot and every oriental girl I've ever been with has been kinky as fuck too. That's always fun."

"Okay, just stop Jake. Stop it. That's just another stereotype. We're not all kinky. And what if a woman does enjoy alternative forms of sexuality? There's nothing wrong with that. Why do men get to do whatever they want sexually, but if a woman does it, she's some kinky slut? How is that fair?" She pushes her hair back from her face and take another big swallow, her face a bit more reddish now as a combination of the alcohol and her fervor. "How is it fair... that men get to fuck any girl they want, white men especially. How come you get to put your big dick in any girl you want and you're more of a man for it? How come I couldn't go around sleeping with every guy I wanted without being labeled a slut? How is that fair?"

"I dunno, that's just how it is. Deal with it."

"Deal with it? But it's not right, don't you see? What if I wanted to go through this frat house, fucking every guy here? I'd be nothing but a 'gook whore' for all of you to tell stories about." Her voice is more whimsical now, almost as though she's talking to yourself. "So what if I did like white guys? So what? Does that mean I should be labeled and talked about like I'm just another Asian-American woman who enjoys being with white men for some reason?"

"Why? Do you?"

"I didn't say I did, it was just an example. Stop interrupting me."

"But you asked a question."

"It was rhetorical, you moron!"

"Sorry, I got confused. I guess my stupid oppressive white male brain gets easily confused like that. But I guess that's expected. I mean, everywhere I look I'm being told that white men are the source of all that's evil in the world, why should I be expected to act any different?"

She draws a deep breath, takes a sip of the beer, almost finishing her third in less than an hour. She draws her hand down slowly over her face, then pushes it back through her hair, thrusting her tits against her top as she does. She sees me ogling her blatantly as she drinks, and lowers the bottle. "What, is my bra distracting you too? Is it also keeping you from listening now?"

"No, actually I was gonna say your jeans are distracting me. Whenever you move in your chair, your legs rub together and they make this scratching noise. It's like nails on a chalkboard to me."

She finishes what little is left in her beer and puts the empty bottle down on the floor. "Fine." she hiccups. "Dammit." She stands up and reaches down, unbuttoning her jeans and lowering the zipper in a single smooth motion. Then she hooks her thumbs in the waistband and shimmies her hips, letting the jeans fall loosely off her body, stepping out of them as they hit the floor at her feet. As they do, she kicks off her sandals and step out of them. She stands before me for a moment, wearing nothing but the thin white sports bra and a pair of black satin panties. They're obviously well-worn, but still alluring against her tan skin. Her legs are slim and toned, her skin smooth and clear and her legs closely shaved. She looks down at herself for a quick second then back at me, swearing softly to herself as she moves to the mini-fridge, pulling a fourth beer, opening it and drinking half the bottle in a few seconds. She only stops when she gags, beer spilling from the corners of her mouth, dripping off her chin down onto her bra. She looks like a little girl who just had her first drink, wearing the silly sports bra, so uncomfortable standing there in a man's room in her underwear. It's hilarious.

She brushes at the dark spot where the beer stained her bra, looks at me, swears again loudly and then places the beer on the top of the mini-fridge, grabbing the bottom of the bra and lifting it off over her head before I can say a word. Her nipples are brown erasers on her b-cup breasts, creases running underneath each where the seams of her bra pressed into her skin. "Fucking hell," she mutters, again more to herself than to anyone else. She grabs her beer and finishes it, minutes after opening it. She weaves slightly on her feet as she drops the empty bottle on the floor where it slams loudly and rolls intact into a corner. "Fuck."

She looks up at me, her skin flushed, her eyes glazed a bit, goosebumps on her bare skin, only her black panties still on her slim body. She stares at me for a moment, takes a step towards me, obviously undergoing some furious internal struggle, then take another step. "Jake, listen. You're so wrong. I want you to know, you offend me... with everything you say. You're a racist, sexist pig. Fuck. I hate you, so much. Everything you stand for, you misogynist fucking pig, I... I hate you." She takes another step towards the bed. "Tell me again... tell me what your friend said to that girl. Tell me what he said to her when she was... when she was sucking his white dick."

I sit up on the edge of the bed, staring at her. I then carefully remove her glasses and look her straight in her yearning eyes. "He called her a dirty little chink whore, and said she sucked his cock real good."

She groans softly and falls to her knees in front of me, her slim brown fingers clawing at my belt, undoing it and almost ripping open my jeans before finding my cock and pulling it out. Her mouth opens wide and her tongue laps out, licking me, her hand pumping hard and fast on my shaft, moaning deep in her throat as she lowers her mouth onto me, my fat white cock protruding from her small dark lips. She's moaning and grunting as she bobs her head in my lap, drooling down my shaft, her free hand pressing and rubbing below my balls. Her cheeks are flushed, panting and gasping for air each time she pulls off me, leaving the swollen head of my cock pink and glistening with her saliva. I notice I'm still holding her glasses, and so I casually toss them aside into a corner next to a heap of my dirty laundry. I then lean back, resting myself on my hands and watching her furiously bob her head on my crotch, her shining hair sliding around her head. She reaches up and tucks it behind her ears only for it to fall back down around her face again and so she gives up, concentrating on working my cock in her mouth with her tongue, taking me deep and squeezing me with her throat. I reach out and stroke her soft hair gently, grunting, "You're so good at this. You were meant for this. I wish you could see yourself now, with a big white cock in your mouth, drooling all over it, loving it, sucking it like a fucking popsicle on the hottest day of the summer. You look so natural in your element."