Jin was a woman who seemed to radiate a quiet power. It was as if electricity hummed under her skin and if you tried to touch her, you would receive a shock. Her skin was the color of fresh, thick milk. Her eyes had a languid, tight quality and hugged close to her short, slightly upturned nose.Her most amusing facial feature by far was her mouth.
Her naturally rosy lips were turned up in a smirk more often than not, but during those moments where one could catch her unawares, you’d see she held her lips slightly apart, her breathing soft, shallow.
It was said among those in the know in our office that Jin collected lovers and that she had turned one man out so thoroughly that when she eventually left him, he took up taking morbidly depressing photographs to ease the stress of her departure. I’d never spoken to Jin much before seeing her one day at work, seated at her desk and reading a book with that same soft fury that she seemed to give to everything that she did. Her lips were thick and luscious, like a plate of ripe strawberries bursting with juice, and while watching her read, I wondered how those lips would look wrapped around my dick.