Ming Lee, her hands still dusted with flour, places the last dumpling on the plate just as Tyler walks into the kitchen, his eyes widening at the sight of the freshly made treats. The room is filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food, and the tension of what's to come hangs heavy in the air.
Tyler: "Hey, Mrs. Lee, those dumplings look amazing. Can I have one?"
Ming Lee: "No, Tyler. These are for Mei-Mei. I never wanted this for her, and I certainly don't want you eating her dumplings."
Tyler: "But there are so many! Just one, please?"
Ming Lee: "I said no. You think this is a joke? Do you know how dangerous it is to mess with a mother's cooking? Now, go home."
] Tyler, with a mischievous grin, pulls out a skimpy sling bikini from his bag and holds it up.
Tyler: "How about this, Mrs. Lee? Put this on, and I'll leave you alone about the dumplings."
Ming Lee, taken aback, scoffs: "way, Tyler! I am not wearing that... thing. This isn't music, this is filth!""
Tyler, smirking: "Come on, Mrs. Lee. Live a little. It's just for fun. What are you so afraid of?"
Ming Lee hesitates, then with a determined look, snatches the bikini from Tyler's hand.
Ming Lee: "Fine. But only because I choose to, not because you told me to."
She storms off to change, leaving Tyler with a satisfied smirk on his face.
Ming Lee returns, her face flushed with embarrassment, wearing the skimpy sling bikini that barely covers her. She avoids Tyler's gaze, her arms crossed over her chest in a futile attempt to hide her discomfort. Tyler, with a wicked grin, takes a rope from his bag and begins to tie Ming's hands behind her back. She stands there, compliant but clearly uncomfortable, as he secures the knots. The room is filled with a tense silence, the air thick with a mix of anticipation and unease.
Ming Lee: "What was that? Am I the only one who sees the danger here? What's next, Tyler?"
Tyler: "Well, Mrs. Lee, it seems you've fallen right into my little trap. Now, let's see how you handle this situation."
Tyler, with a smug look, picks up the plate of dumplings and holds it in front of him. He stares directly at Ming Lee, who glares back at him with a mix of anger and embarrassment, her eyes burning with intensity. The room is filled with a palpable tension as they lock eyes, neither willing to back down.
Ming Lee: "Put those back right now, Tyler. This isn't a game. You think you can just waltz in here and take what you want? I won't have it. Not in my house."
Tyler takes a bite of one of the dumplings, his eyes never leaving Ming Lee's glare, a smirk playing on his lips as he savors the taste.
Ming Lee: "How dare you! You think this is funny? You're playing with fire, Tyler. I won't stand for this disrespect in my own home. Put those dumplings back this instant!"
Tyler, now wearing only a thong, approaches Ming Lee with a predatory look in his eyes. He kneels down in front of her, his face level with her crotch. He begins to lick her clitoris, his tongue tracing the folds of her labia, which are wet and slippery with arousal. Her vaginal walls clench and release as he expertly works his tongue, switching between eating her dumplings and eating her out. Her clit is swollen and sensitive, and she can't help but let out a soft moan as he continues to pleasure her.
Ming Lee: "Stop that right now, Tyler! This is not appropriate. I am a mother, and you are a friend of my daughter. This is not how you treat someone with respect. Put some clothes on and leave immediately
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