Mellow Yellow Next Generation Ch. 01


Author’s Note: This story continues the saga from Mellow Yellow 20.

When the Crown Colony of Hong Kong reverted to the Peoples’ Republic of China in 1998, Syd Poole lost his job as the Reunified Hong Kong Administrative District Office Vehicle Supervisor. The new masters of Hong Kong were reluctant to employ someone identified so closely with the hated former colonial regime. It didn’t matter to the new regime that Syd had reasonable skills in Cantonese and a Chinese wife. He just wasn’t wanted. As for Syd, he considered the Hong Qi limousines favoured by the Communist bureaucrats to be a bigger pile of junk than the Daimlers he fussed over while at the Colonial Office. Syd may have been a mechanic by trade but he had pride.

Syd’s wife, Lily Poon, retained her job as manager of the restaurant at the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club (subsequently renamed the People’s No. 2 Recreation and Navigation Society after Reunification). Lily’s dissatisfaction began when her salary was “harmonized” downwards to the level of her waitresses. Her job title was also downgraded from Catering Manager to Worker Co-ordinator but her working hours were upgraded to 60 hours per week. As Worker Co-ordinator No. 6, she had to field her staff’s complaints that the new Communist apparatchiks were lousy tippers in addition to being high-functioning alcoholics. When the new bureaucrats ordered Lily to remove the Yacht Club’s Cantonese specialties and replace them with Szechuan and Beijing dishes, her cultural resentment of all things Northern came to the surface.

So, Lily and Syd turned their backs on Hong Kong and emigrated to Australia with Lily’s two teenaged children, Pamela and Patrick. Determined never to depend on others for their jobs, the Poon-Pooles bought a dilapidated “Chew and Spew” on the Coastal Highway just outside Bummkrak, Qnsld. Lily and Syd worked hard on the renovations. Lily tore down the wall, behind which the former owners had hidden while making egg sandwiches and soggy chips, and created the first open kitchen in Queensland. Lily replaced the deep fryer and filthy grill with woks, dumpling steamers and commercial rice makers. Within a year, “Lily’s Guangdong Oasis” established its reputation as the best Chinese restaurant between Brisbane and Cairns. Motorists flocked to the outskirts of Bummkrak to watch Lily make each of the 100 dishes on the menu and inhale the blended scents of ginger, garlic and peanut oil wafting from the open kitchen.

Sid Poole cleaned up the garage and replaced all the antiquated tools with their metric equivalents, liberated surplus from the old Colonial Office Motor Pool. He became equally famous as his wife as the only honest car mechanic in all of Queensland. Truckers and tourists alike lined up for Lily’s Chinese cooking whilst Syd filled the trucks with diesel and repaired the Holdens and Fairlanes of Queensland.

Unfortunately, Pamela and Patrick had far less social success than their mother and stepfather’s economic success. Having grown up in the competitive environment of the Hong Kong, they were accustomed to completing all their assigned homework on time. How could a Chinese child bring shame on the family by not achieving to their full potential? Of course, the white students disapproved of “the Chink kids messing up the curve.” Their immediate response was to attempt bullying and intimidating the new arrivals from Hong Kong. Scratch a white Queenslander and you’ll find a racist lurking below the skin. In response, both Patrick and Pamela demonstrated to the white students that Asian martial arts movies were more than mere fantasy.

Unable to physically bully the two teenagers, the white teens shunned Pamela and Patrick socially. The two Chinese teenagers went dateless from their first day in Bummkrak, becoming that rare commodity in Oz, 16-year old virgins. This was even odder considering that both teenagers were quite striking in appearance. Patrick had rugged features that were more northern Chinese than Cantonese. Pamela’s slim waist and smooth, well-shaped legs spoke of movie star quality. Although they kept it well hidden behind inscrutable Chinese faces, Pamela and Patrick were as lustful as any two white teenagers.

The two teenagers managed to turn their sexual energies to sports. Pamela took up volleyball where she earned extra respect by spiking the ball in the face of any girl who attempted intimidation off court. Patrick accomplished the same by a few well-aimed elbows to white groins on the football pitch. In “footie”, there are advantages to being short, stocky and well muscled. Patrick became a valued member of the Bummkrak All Blacks, the closest thing to a living black player the team had. However, when it came to the party after the game, Patrick was conspicuously dropped from the guest list.

The final character in this drama is Allison Koowootha, known to her few friends outside the Aboriginal community as “Koo”. Allison lived in a collection of corrugated roof shanties on the other side of the Coastal Highway, designated on roadmaps as West Bummkrak but known to white cebeci escort Bummkrakers as Jackytown. Despite her humble origins, Allison was intelligent as well as quite attractive. In almost any other environment, she would have attracted a coterie of male admirers, but this was Bummkrak, Qnsld.

It was not surprising that Allison and Pamela became the best of friends, both outcasts to their cliquish white classmates. The odd tall/petite couple enjoyed each other’s company for more reasons than to enjoy some intelligent conversation. Allison and Pamela shared a curiosity about their bodies just like any other sixteen year old girl. Pamela may have been better read on the subject of the female body but Allison had more “hands-on” experience. When they weren’t talking about sex, their conversation turned to their future, which consisted of careers and marriage.

“I don’t even want to think about getting married until I’ve finished my university. I’ll become a psychiatrist like my Auntie Susan. I’ll marry a doctor and we’ll be rich but happy. My only problem is that my marks aren’t quite good enough to get accepted to medical college. When you’re a visible minority in Oz, you need to be twice as good as a white kid to get into University. So, maybe my dreams will never come to anything and I’ll be an old maid.”

“I’m not sure if I ever want to get married. Especially not to any of this lot in Bummkrak. Not that the black guys in Jackytown are that much better. Ozzie guys, black and white alike just want to drink until they chunder. If they ever get around to thinking about women, we’re just Shielas to fetch their next beer.”

“I agree. There’s not a guy in all of Queensland that I’d ever date. That’s why I’ve applied to the University of New South Wales for the next semester. How are you going to get out of Bummkrak, Koo?”

“I want to become an artist, the best Aboriginal artist in Oz. My only problem is that I can’t afford the supplies so I can develop my style. But artists never get rich so no guy will ever look at a poor black girl, no matter how pretty she might be. That’s my problem, Pam.”

“I may have a solution to both our problems, Koo. I’ve wanted to work fewer hours in my mother’s restaurant for the past year and get my marks up so I can get into University. Mum says that there aren’t any girls in Bummkrak she can rely on, especially not those white bitches. Why don’t you talk to my Mum about replacing me? The Oasis is right between school and your house.”

As Allison and Pamela entered the Oasis Restaurant, Lily was in the process of firing the latest in a series of disastrous part-time hirings from among the white population of Bummkrak.

“You no nice to customers, you razy and you raff at my Engrish when you think I no risten. I sack you now. Get white ass out of my lestaulant and no come back.”

Pamela cringed. In most respects, she was proud of her mother except for her colourful manner of speech. Lily’s English had improved marginally since her move to Oz to the point of being almost comprehensible. Allison backed away and motioned that it might not be a good time to talk to Mrs. Poon. Pamela knew her mother better. Her temper was short-lived and she never channeled her anger at the wrong target. Besides, Pamela explained to her mother that she had just brought Lily the solution to her latest problem.

Lily looked Allison up and down, mostly up from her diminutive Cantonese perspective. Unlike the white bitchy sheilas who applied for work at the Oasis, Allison appeared to be friendly and, best of all, enthusiastic. Lily hadn’t found much work ethic under white skin since she had moved to Oz. Had she been looking in the wrong place? Lily didn’t waste a moment, addressing her daughter by her Chinese name.

“Pin-mi, you fliend nice brack rady. You rike wolk in lestaulant? I got rotsa wolk here. Arison, you come with me and I find nice unifolm show off cute bum. OK, lest of you get to wolk.”

So, Allison became part of Syd and Lily’s extended family, making the Oasis an even bigger success. Patrick pumped gas and kept his eye on the till while Pamela and Allison served up Lily’s steaming, shiny Cantonese delights. Even if the citizens of Bummkrak eschewed the Oasis, the more cosmopolitan Victorians and NSWers, white, black and yellow traveling the Coastal Highway appreciated the Oasis’ good food, good service and cute waitresses.

Patrick watched his sister’s friend from his place at the cash register. Her large breasts bounced in rhythm as she walked between the kitchen and tables, unlike his sister’s small, firm boobies. The uniform his mother supplied Allison was much too short for her long black legs, so the hem ended up mid-thigh. This fueled Patrick’s speculation as to what lay above the hem. How much bush did Allison have? What does a black girl’s pussy smell like? As a 16-year old virgin, the real question was what did any girl’s pussy smell like? Thoughts of pussy supplemented by Allison’s black boobs bouncing around inside her uniform as she walked to çinçin escort the kitchen gave Patrick a perpetual woody.

Syd and Lily encouraged their children to do their homework in the booth by the door when business at the Oasis was slow. So, as they grew fonder of Allison, they were pleased that she joined Pamela and Patrick in the “homework booth.” Initially, Allison sat beside Pamela but necessities of seeing how Patrick worked out math problems, of course, prompted her to cross over and take up a permanent place beside Patrick. Black and yellow hands entwined below the table while Intermediate Algebra problems got sorted out above.

Patrick asked Allison to help him shed his Chinese accent in favour of the nasal Aussie twang. Naturally, so as to not waste time, Patrick’s ‘Conversational Strine 101’ lessons tended towards rather intimate subjects. Very quickly, the teens discovered that they both wanted to lose their virginity but with the right person.

Lest the reader assume that this was simply a case of horny teenagers getting physical, Patrick and Allison shared more in common than a need to get laid. The two teens also discovered that they shared an interest in the visual arts. Since Allison painted and Patrick was a photographer, the two art forms went well together. Never having lived in the bush, Allison couldn’t paint wildlife from her memory. On their days off, the two teenagers could be found wandering around Bummkrak Zoo, photographing the icons of aboriginal art, wallabies, wombats, kookaburras and koalas, with Patrick’s camera. Patrick’s photos ultimately found their way to Allison’s canvas.

This shared interest in art ultimately led to the teens’ first sexual encounter. The subject was first broached by Allison. Not being Chinese, she was far more direct about what she wanted.

“I’m tired of painting animals, Patrick. Aboriginal artists just paint cute primitive portraits of cockatoos and platypus ducks. I want to move on with my art and paint real people and real events. I want to paint aboriginal warriors fighting white settlers – and winning, of course. I want to paint something that will make Aboriginals proud to be black.”

“What’s your hang-up? With your warrior past, I thought it would come naturally to you.”

“I have these visions of semi-naked black warriors carrying spears, with their willies swaying, hanging from their groin. On the other side of the battlefield, the whities would be staring at these huge appendages with looks of fear on their faces. Then in the background, the white women would be hiking up their Victorian skirts and hiking down their bloomers in anticipation of being ravished by my noble black warriors.”

“You may want to skip the white women in the background in the interests of political correctness, Koo. But I still don’t see what’s stopping you from painting what you want to paint.”

“To tell you the truth, Patrick, I’ve never seen a willie in my life. Yes, I joke about willies all the time with my sisters but it’s all talk. I haven’t got the experience my sisters have with men. Patrick, would you pose nude for me? Look, we can use your camera and I’ll paint from the photos.”

“I dunno, Allison. Mum and Syd keep a close eye on Pam ‘n me. Besides, I feel shy being naked. Call me legally Chinese but we just aren’t into nudity the way your ancient warriors were. I mean, have you ever seen a Jackie Chan flick where there’s sex?”

“We’re friends, so you won’t be alone. How about if I get just as naked as you. You can stop any time it doesn’t feel right. I’ll pose naked for you if you’ll pose for me.”

That was an offer that Patrick couldn’t refuse. Their opportunity to close their deal came the following Thursday night. Allison and Patrick were at their usual booth preparing for Friday classes. Pamela had already gone home in order to prepare for a university admission test. Besides, Allison could do with more hours to buy her art supplies. The two teens looked up from their books. Lily had changed into street clothes and Syd had scrubbed the oil from his hands.

“‘Ere, Patrick, can you close the place. There ain’t much business tonight and yer mum & me want to turn in early for a change. Can you take care of fuelling cars until closing?” Lily added, “Arrison, I crose glill. You make soup, sarad and sandwich onry. You got it?”

Allison accepted her responsibilities readily. Translated inside Patrick’s head, “turning in early” meant that his mother and stepfather were in serious need of an oil change. Patrick readily agreed so he could further his own agenda of spending some time with Allison beyond doing homework.

As soon as the family car became distant taillights, Allison whispered: “Tonight’s the night we do it Patrick. Where’s the best place?”

“Actually, there’s a room off Mum’s office. Syd and Mum used to sleep there before we got permanent digs in town. Knowing Mum, she still keeps it ready in case she needs a quickie with Syd when business gets slow.”

Patrick held Allison tightly with çubuk escort his hand while he put the “Closed” sign in the door Allison made sure that sandwiches and drinks were available from the vending machines. Then Patrick put the petrol pumps on cardlock and turned all the lights out in the restaurant and service areas. The bitumen highway was empty in all directions. They wouldn’t be discovered. Patrick took his camera out of his locker and took Allison through the office to the seldom-used office. As Patrick expected, the room was clean and the bed prepared for one of his mother’s and stepfather’s romps. Aside from the bed, there was an empty dresser in the room that needed to be moved to make a nice blank wall.

“OK, I’ll take something off first and then it’s your turn,” Allison said. By now, she knew Patrick well enough that he had Chinese shyness about displaying his body. Allison started with the top button of her uniform, advancing one button at a time. By the time two white brassiere cups appeared, Patrick’s eyes were wide and round. Allison knew she had Patrick hooked by her drawn-out striptease. Button by button, each button, each button taking longer than the other, Allison finally had the uniform open to the bottom. In one deft shake of her shoulders, the uniform dropped to the ground, revealing her smooth black flesh.

Patrick was pleased to be teased but the Chinese student inside took the opportunity to be educated at the same time. The teenager already knew what a woman wore under her clothes from the laundry that hung out in the poorer sections of Bummkrak. Actually, most of Bummkrak was a slum so Patrick learned a lot about working-class lingerie by walking around town. Despite his extensive knowledge of knickers, Patrick had no idea how a woman put it all together. Patrick’s thoughts returned to the task at hand. Instead of watching lingerie over the fence, here was an opportunity to get involved.

“Could I unhook your bra for you?”

Allison was pleased that Patrick was starting to take some initiative in this project. Allison’s back was broad, shining with perspiration in the light. Hands trembling, Patrick thought that he would never get the tiny hooks to release. Finally, the two back straps parted, letting Allison’s ample breasts tumble out.

With one hand, Patrick slid the strap of Allison’s C-cup down her smooth, silky arms. With the other hand, he replaced the brassiere cup with his hand. The rest came naturally to Patrick. He had his first feel of tit in his hand and they were a big pair. He held the soft, pliant globe in his hand, trying not to be too rough. Patrick put his other hand on Allison’s other breast, taking her erect nipples and softly massaging them between his fingers. He placed a light kiss as high on Allison’s back as he could reach. Allison didn’t protest in the slightest.

Allison unzipped Patrick’s trousers. Allison had chosen Patrick for her deflowering not only because of his charm and good looks but specifically because he was Chinese. Allison had heard rumors from the female side of the Aboriginal Telegraph that Japanese businessmen had teeny-weeny willies. She hadn’t heard anything about Chinese guys but they were all the same race, weren’t they? Besides, she could always amplify a tiny willie for the terrifying effects she wanted in her art.

“Patrick, I want to see what you’ve got there.”

The zipper climbed over what appeared to be a very large bump in Patrick’s briefs. Allison pulled down the trousers and then tried the same with the briefs. Reaching past the waistband, Allison received a shock as her hand touched her first willie. The rumours about willie size were false, at least for Chinese guys. Patrick was quite well endowed, as her full hand testified. Plus, his willie was rock hard as well. Her older sisters had often complained that the guys with big ones never seemed to get hard. Obviously, they had never met Patrick.

Allison pulled Patrick’s jockeys down as she dropped to her knees. Patrick’s willie popped out over the waistband. Patrick wasn’t cut. A foreskin hooded the tip of his willie, hiding the full head. This was a bonus for Koo’s art. In primitive times, her noble warriors were also uncut. First, she ran her nose along the length of Patrick’s shaft, then her tongue over the veins and ridges. Finally, she inserted the willie into her mouth, savouring the taste, size and strength of Patrick. The close inspection was all in the in the cause of Allison’s art, of course.

The two embraced tightly, feeling the warmth of each other’s body. Patrick breathed in Allison’s scent, hints of almonds and passion fruit masked by faint odors of oyster paste and peanut oil from his mother’s kitchen. Even if she wanted to back out, there wasn’t any time for that.

Patrick had her on the bed and he was kissing her boobs with passion. In fact, Patrick didn’t seem to be in any rush to jam his willie into virgin pussy. Allison had heard so many young guys, black and white brag about their wham-bam encounters. If Patrick was a typical Chinese guy, then that race knew what a woman wanted. Allison relaxed as Patrick slowly licked her nipples, making her boobs tingle. Patrick’s slow caresses along her body sent rushes of feeling downwards, focussing on her pussy. Moisture trickled through her pussy lips down the crack of her bum.

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