1 comments/ 61781 views/ 11 favorites East meets West By: pry There was very little mysterious about a white or Caucasian woman's body for my generation even though we lived in a coloured, Asian region. We grew up on a staple of Western porn and we'd seen more pink nipples, reddish areolas, shaved creamy pubic mounds, or blonde pubic hair, glistening pink pussies and light brown anuses than their much darker counterparts on our own women. And although a white woman remained a huge fantasy, we were more than content with our own girls and women. The colour of her skin hardly mattered when her pussy squeezed your dripping wet cock as you tried to pull out and push in. That was until today I told myself, slightly jolted as Emma nudged her cheek against my bare shoulder and her short, curled brown hair tickled me in the face. She moved her bare legs across my left thigh and brought it to rest on my flaccid cock and balls, in the process rubbing her sticky pussy and cum-coated sparse hair around it to my thigh. Then she continued to sleep like a baby, just like she had been after our four-hour sexathon. Could this all be a dream, or worse, just another fantasy, I asked myself. It couldn't be. I could still smell the sex in the air, her raw, musky scents and mine, mingled in the room, on the sheets and the blankets, and more strongly, on both our skins, faces, lips. And I could still taste the mix of my cum and her cream in my mouth. Hell, I must be one lucky son of a gun, I thought. Not only had I managed some wild sex in a long long time, I had managed it with an extremely attractive Occidental woman and a co-worker to boot. And to think that the same morning, when we got off the plane in Singapore, I was telling myself how I had to be pretentiously sweet to my senior, expat co-worker with whom I'd be spending a week at a training programme. That too without expecting any favours in return. We may have been working for the same company and it was a world of equal rights and opportunties all right, but cultural differences remained and beyond a point, few expat women, or even men for that matter, got too friendly with the locals. We landed in Singapore on a Sunday morning and had the day to ourselves before the programme began on Monday. We rode a taxi together and checked into our rooms at the Westin Plaza. I was a little surprised when Emma asked the front desk to give us rooms next to each other, or at least close by, so that one of us could pop in to the other's room for a chat in what can otherwise be a boring city. Although we'd worked together for more than a year in the same office, our relationship was completely professional and we hardly talked of anything outside of work. Something I thought was due to the fact that she probably had an expat, superiority complex. Now, this was our first trip together and at least it seemed to have a gotten off to a pleasant start. We checked in to our rooms, showered, went down for a hearty buffet breakfast and at Emma's suggestion decided to loaf around town a bit for want of anything better to do. At least it was better than sitting alone and watching some senseless TV in a hotel room, I thought. Not that being around with Emma wasn't an incentive. She had everything and more to get the hormones racing and the flesh between men's legs straining. Emma was in her late 30s, a few years older than me, but looked at least five years younger. She was petite, about 5'2", had a pleasant, square face with sharp features. Short, brown hair and wore glasses when she fancied it, which only accentuated her sexuality. Whoever said men don't make passes at women in glasses. Her small breasts went with her petite frame, as did her narrow waist, a well-proportioned but deliciously curved bottom, and shapely legs to match. Like Hugh Hefner or someone of his ilk once said, anything of a woman which is more than you can get in your hands or mouth is a waste. Although I didn't completely agree with that all the time, when it came to Emma, it made perfect sense. She had no flesh to waste. So there I was, out on the tree-lined avenues of a sultry Singapore with Emma, who was all the tourist, dressed in cargo trousers and a striped cotton tank-top, which ended somewhere around her navel. It gave me a nice view of the puny bulge of her tummy before the waistline of her cargo trouser began a nip above where her blonde curls must be, I imagined. It was a nice first hour until the clear sky and a blazing sun began taking their toll on me as we roamed the streets and window shopped at those gleaming malls Singapore is known for. But being English, Emma was loving the sun despite the fact that it was making her sweat profusely and had gotten her tank-top to cling to her slim torso and small breasts. "I feel like getting a beer and may be sit down in the lawn or patio of a restaurant. Would you like that Dhruv," Emma asked me as we walked by a row of shops and restaurants. "You read my mind Emma," I said, relieved this ordeal was about to end. "Can't take the humidity any more." So we found a nice little bar by a canal, ordered beers and a salad and blessed the waiter for offering us cold towels and grabbed the tall glasses as soon as they arrived. Both of us were tired and we spoke little as we ordered a second and then a third beer before we hailed a cab and returned to the hotel. "So Dhruv, what are your plans for the afternoon," Emma asked as we entered the lobby. "I'm thinking of a shower and may be a nap. The walk in the sun and the beer have gotten me a bit drowsy," I replied. "Lucky you, to be able to sleep in the afternoon. I can never sleep in the afternoon unless I .....," she left the sentence hanging. Before I could ask "unless what", she continued: "Never mind. I've suddenly realized all the walking has left my feet sore. God knows I could use a nice foot massage. But the hotel's service list does not mention a masseur. What a pity," she said. A foot massage, now that set my mind in overdrive. I loved getting massages and giving them too. Foot massages, back rubs, shoulder rubs, head massages. Women and some men friends lucky to experience my hands and fingers have always returned for more. With some of the women, massages led to other, more erotic kinds of rubbing. Of course, Emma wouldn't have an inkling of my ability in this area. Should I offer, I wondered as we waited for the elevator. Would I be overstepping my limits if I offered? Would she think me to be another slimy prick wanting to pounce on a white woman? Remember, she's a senior at work, and one wrong move and I may actually need to go out there and look for a new job, may be this time as a masseur! Or what if she actually agrees and lets me do it? Questions, questions, questions. The best way to end the dilemma was to go ahead and just ask, I told myself. And I don't know where I summoned the courage from, but I did. "Emma, if you don't mind me offering, you know I've done a crash course in massage therapy during a holiday in Thailand and would love to rub your feet," I blurted, trying to mask the partial lie. The only thing I'd learnt in Thailand was to let those seductive Thai women rub me to heaven. And that was education enough for me to try it on others. "And I won't even charge a penny," I smilingly added as we entered the elevator. "What? Dhruv, are you pulling a fast one on me? You never ever told me you knew massage therapy," Emma sounded genuinely surprised. "You never asked until today," I smiled. "But I'm serious. And this is an honest offer." "Hey, I don't know if I'd be comfortable with the idea. But you've made a very tempting offer, I must confess." "Then just go ahead and find out. If you don't feel comfortable we can stop and call it off. Anyway, it's just a foot massage." She couldn't counter that one. So we agreed to shower in our rooms before I went over to her room opposite mine for the "therapy". My cock was stiff as I got into the shower and I couldn't believe my luck. Beautiful Emma was letting me give her a massage, even if it was just her feet. Wow, I said aloud, even as I struggled to distract my dick so that she wouldn't notice my bulging groin and change her mind. I wore cargo shorts, a plain cotton T-shirt and called Emma's room to check if she was ready. "Knock on my door in five," she said. I did. Emma's room had a better view than mine I realized, as she opened the door and let me in. We were on the 23rd floor and she had a large window overlooking the sea and the harbour. The room smelt of a nice, mild, feminine eau de toilette, probably CK. The bed was covered and I noticed Emma had put her sweat-drenched clothes from the morning in a heap in a corner. She was now wearing a loose light-blue pajama and a dark blue T-shirt which had the words "What the Heck" printed on the breast. What was that in the heap, I wondered. Was that a lacy, pink panty she had tried to hide and not fully succeeded? "So where do you want me to sit Mr. Thai masseur," Emma suddenly interrupted my wandering mind. "And would you need a moisturizer or lotion or some such thing for the massage?" "Wherever you'd like to sit ma'm," I played along. "May be on the sofa by the window, looking out at the sea? I'll need some moisturizer but very little of it." "Perfect," she said, went to the bathroom and returned with a small bottle of moisturizer before settling down on the sofa. I took off my slippers and sat at her feet. "Just sit back, relax and close your eyes. I wish there was some soothing music to go along, but it's still ok," I said. "I am good at this and trust me, you'll like it." "Sure. I can't thank you enough for offering to do this Dhruv," she said. I first took her left feet in both my hands and pressed it and rubbed it all around in quick motions to loosen the muscles and relax the nerves. Such lovely little feet, I thought. And such dainty toes with perfectly shaped nails. I started working on her ankle since the harder part of the feet need to relax first and then the softer sections like the toes and the sole. I clutched her ankle with my fingers and began gently kneading and pulling down in a straight line towards her toes. She inhaled deeply and let out a loud sigh. Her left feet jerked a bit from the sensation and I looked up at her face to see if she was in pain. Instead I found her face had expanded and she was trying hard to not make more sounds. "It's all right Emma," I told her. "Don't hold yourself back. Just be yourself. Only I can hear any sounds you make, and you are safe with me. And let me know if the pressure is too much or if I hurt you." "Oh thanks Dhruv, it feels so good," she said and drifted back to whichever world she was in. I dabbed a little moisturizer to my fingers and continued kneading her ankle and the sides of her feet and heels. The heavy breathing and sighing had now made way for rather loud moans and groans. She wasn't making it easy for me but I kept telling myself I had to focus on what I had offered. After finishing with her ankles and sides I moved to her sole and began pressing it with both my thumbs. "That tickles a bit," she said giggling like a teenager. "You want me to stop," I asked. "No no, it feels good. It's been so long since my sole was pressed, and I am a bit ticklish there but the pleasure overrides everything else....go on, go on," she said. The sole done, I moved to her toes. I was glad she had clean toes with no dead skin or corns or warts or injuries from wearing the wrong footwear. They can be such a put off for a toe massage. Besides she had no nail paint and her toe nails were a natural pink, perfect. I began with smallest toe, gently pulling it and pressing it with my fingers. Each toe got five minutes and by the time I finished the left foot I must have spent nearly an hour on it. And if anyone heard Emma's sounds and didn't know she was getting only a foot massage, they would have to be forgiven if they thought she was in the middle of some passionate love making. As I let go of her left foot and moved to her right, I was tempted to kiss the top of her left feet as I usually do at the end with women I know better. But with Emma, I let it pass. I was anyways wondering what must be going through her mind, if anything at all. Am sure she never imagined letting me give her a foot massage and get her to moan in uninhibited pleasure. My mind started working as I took her right foot in my hands. I didn't need to think much about the massage since I was working on auto-pilot and I knew how much pressure was right for Emma. So I started wondering, what next? To say that I was aroused was an understatement. My penis was straining against my Y fronts all through the massage and I could also feel some wet juices at its tip. For starters, I wanted to take Emma's dainty toes in my mouth and suck and nibble on them until she begged me to stop. And then... Emma was married but while she worked in Asia her husband, George, lived in Chicago. He was a baseball coach and could not get away from his job to be where his wife was. They met like twice a year or so, either of them traveling to the city the other was in. So by that calculation, Emma was getting sex for about two weeks at a stretch two times a year. That was of course assuming she wasn't sleeping around. But then, she didn't seem to be. Our office was quick to latch on to any such signs and start spreading the news. So is there an opening for me here today? Should I fancy my chances? Well, I wasn't a bad looker myself. I was 5'7", athletic, no flab, single, smart, witty (or so they said) and had proved myself so far in the massage department. But was Emma monogamous? And if not, would she let a brown, oriental man seduce her? I realized I had finished with her right foot and needed answers fast or I would have to return to my room and get myself off to relieve all the sexual tension that had built so far. I let go of her right foot slowly and let her relax for a few minutes, gather her breath. "Are we done dear," she asked in a whisper, pleasantly surprising me with the endearment. "Dear?", now that was a nice first. "Yes Emma. Hope your feet feel better now," I asked. "Better? They are in heaven. Dhruv, has anyone told you that you are in the wrong bloody profession? You should open a massage parlour and you'd be minting money." "Well, that's a new compliment," I lied. Almost all my women had said much the same things. "But if I started a massage business, then I'd have to press all kinds of feet and not just the ones I love rubbing." "You mean you liked giving me a massage today?" She asked. "Of course. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't," I replied, thinking that the conversation seemed to be heading in a nice direction. And then I decided to throw my dice. I looked into her eyes with all sincerity, and asked: "Is there anything else you'd like me to do for you Emma?" NO, THANK YOU, was the answer I was expecting. But she looked me back in the eye and like a child pleading, she asked: "Well, actually yes Dhruv. Would I be taking advantage of your goodness if I asked you to massage my calves as well?" WOWIE I thought. Now that's good progress. "I'd love to," I said, with a faint, mischievous tingle in my eyes and voice. "Oh great, thanks a million Dhruv. But before that, I feel like a glass of red wine. Would you mind if I opened a bottle? Would you like one too? "You know I picked up a couple at the duty free for the bosses. Am sure we can cut out one of them," she went on. It was past 4 in the evening and I loved red wine. Perfect I thought, go on Emma, take me where you want, I told myself. "Sure, I'd love some wine," I said. She quickly got off the sofa, went to a closet and brought a bottle of French Merlot. "Let me do the honours," I said. She gave me the bottle and the opener and I uncorked it and poured two glasses. We tinkled the rims and took our sips, it tasted divine, like always. "Shall we get started then," Emma asked, settling down on the sofa again while I sat down on another at some distance. "One small problem," I said. "You won't be comfortable in your pajamas for a calf massage and I won't be able to do a good job with it on. Would you mind changing into a pair of shorts or may be a skirt?" "Oh, I didn't think of that," she said. "Let me see what I have packed." Emma went to her luggage and looked in. "Nah, tough luck," she said. "What do we do?" she said, looking a little disappointed. "Hang on, have they kept a bath robe in the bathroom?" I asked. "Oh yes, they have. How come I didn't think of it. You are such a genius," she smiled and headed to the bathroom. "I'll be back in a jiffy." When she returned, her pajamas were off and she was covered in a peach coloured, cotton-satin mix bathrobe that seemed to be the right size. Obviously house-keeping had ensured they'd kept the right size for petite Ms. Emma. The robe had been tied tight at the waist and I couldn't make out if she was still wearing the T-shirt under it. Emma returned to the sofa and took a sip of her wine. "I'm all yours now Dhruv," she said, with a mischievous smile. My heart skipped a beat. Is she leading me on, or just teasing? "Great. By the way, can you loosen the robe string at your waist Emma. Tying it so tight is not good for the blood circulation, especially during a massage," I asked. "Sure. In fact, why don't you loosen it as much as you want Mr. Expert," she said. "No problem," I said and stood up on my knees and untied the string. The robe parted a bit and I got my confirmation. She had taken off her T-shirt. It was such a turn on. There was Emma, in just a bath robe, and probably a bra and panties. I returned to my position by her feet and started kneading and pulling her right calf. Calves are much simpler to massage. They don't have any twists or turns or corners like the feet and on someone built slim like Emma, they aren't too fleshy or bulky either. I began building a rhythm, using more moisturizer here since there was a larger expanse of skin to cover, starting from behind her knees where I had gently parted her bath robe, and pulling my fingers and palm down in one clean motion. She began building her moaning and groaning rhythm. As I rubbed down at equal intervals, Emma continued to moan and whimper and part her legs wider. With it, the robe was also beginning to part more and a small stretch of her silky smooth thigh was now becoming visible. I couldn't avoid looking even if I wanted to. She had closed her eyes and was blissfully unaware, or so I presumed. Outside the window, the sun had begun to set over the harbour and the lights of the city were coming on. We hadn't switched on any in the room so my view of Emma would soon be hampered. I finished the right leg and moved to her left. Just as I began the rubbing routine, Emma slowly parted her legs further, and there it was. I could see the thigh on the opposite side all the way through, and then, small curls of light brown hair, the puffed pink outer lips of her pussy, and a small stretch of white thong that was soaked before it disappeared between the outer lips. For a moment I stopped rubbing and started staring. She just lay there on the sofa and I quickly resumed kneading her calf so that she wouldn't realise she was giving me a very rare and beautiful view. As I rubbed her, I tried to breathe deep and inhale the aroma of her arousal. My nose was hardly two feet from her wetness and there was an unmistakable musky feel in the air. The invitation was good enough I thought. Make your move Dhruv, give it a shot, I told myself. For better or for worse, hopefully for the better. I got back up on my knees and since I had finished with the left leg as well, put one hand on each of her knees, began kneading and rubbing them together, slowly allowing my fingers and palms to feel her smooth lower thigh. I don't know how I was able to restrain myself. All I wanted to do was dive in between those thighs, bite all that smooth flesh and lick and soak in her wetness. East meets West I continued with the knee and moved my hands slowly upward and began rubbing the thigh above. She seemed to stir a little and spread her thighs wider, and her breathing was unmistakably getting heavier. Was she aware or was she just letting herself get carried away? Should I err on the side of caution or just let myself get carried away too? My head preferred the former, my cock the latter. I listened to my head! "Emma, you comfortable with this?" I whispered. "Yes dear. Don't talk. And don't stop," she moaned, her eyes still closed. All my doubts flew out of the 23rd floor window. And I seemed possessed by all that white flesh in front of me. I continued kneading her thighs, rubbing the insides and going all the way up until they met at her waist. I pushed my hands inside the robe, towards the outside of her waist and on the sweet mounds of her bottom, pulled them apart while pressing them and slowly brought the pressure down the underside of her thighs. "Oh gawd," Emma moaned. I repeated that a couple of times and she began to squirm under the touch and pressure. I bent forward and planted a soft kiss on the inside of her right thigh first and then the left, let my tongue roll on the skin and gave it a small bite, startling her. "Holy shit, you planning to kill me with all this tenderness Dhruv?" "Don't talk," I said. "Just lie back and soak in it." I kept kneading her bottom, which was squirming more and more now and kissed and licked my way up until my nose came in contact with her pussy. It was my turn to moan. The scent of a woman was always heady, but this time it seemed headier, may be because she was my first white woman. I sniffed and rubbed my nose on her lips and on the wet thong. Planted a very light kiss on the lips, causing her to groan loudly. Then came more kisses, each one harder than the previous one and before I could realise, Emma had her fingers in my hair, brushing and playing with it as I went to work on her pussy. I stuck my tongue out and gave her a slow lick, from the bottom to the top. As I did, I could feel the wet fabric of the thong between her lips. I moved my hands to her waist and found the thin band of her thong. I started pulling it down and Emma raised her hips to help me. I got both her feet out of the thong and brought the flimsy piece of fabric to my nose. The scent of the musky juice felt divine. I couldn't stop inhaling until I licked the soaked up crotch and sucked it into my mouth. Emma opened her eyes to see why my attention had shifted from her honey pot. "Dirty man," she whispered, and closed her eyes again. I returned to where my mouth had to belong after fully untying the string of Emma's bath robe and parting it completely to the corners. For a moment I stared at those cute little breasts under her white lace bra. I held Emma by her waist and sank my tongue in her cunt, lapping like a thirsty dog. She tasted a little sweet and sour. Since Emma was a petite woman, her pussy also kept with her frame. It was hardly a couple of inches from top to bottom. She had a very sparse coating of curled up brown hair on her mound and around her labia. She obviously shaved or trimmed it regularly. I went up and down with practised ease, avoiding too much contact with her clit or pushing my tongue inside. I just wanted to paint the surface with my saliva. This is real dude, I told myself. You are licking a white woman's pussy. Great show, now show her a good time. I was determined to. All the woman I've licked have told me it was their best lick and no one could match my tongue. I was hoping it would be the same for Emma. I enjoyed nothing more than licking pussy and having a woman come on my face. Emma was now mewing and moaning without stop. I pulled her closer and pushed my tongue slowly into her vagina, through the folds of her inner lips. She exhaled deeply, sighed and let out a loud moan. I pulled out slowly and pushed back in, repeating and slowly tongue fucking her. She tried to clasp my tongue with the walls of her pussy and failed. Obviously the lubrication on both surfaces was too much to allow that. I moved out and lapped upward again, stopping at her tiny clit. I kissed it and tried to take it between my teeth. Emma shuddered. I flicked my tongue across first, and up and down next, increasing the speed gradually. Then I sucked on it like a tiny candy. "Wow, wow, holy shit," Emma groaned. While my mouth was having all the fun, my fingers were feeling left out. So I moved my right hand under my soaked up chin and probed at Emma's opening with the middle finger, slowly pushing it in through the wet folds. "Oh Dhruv, I love that. Push it in deeper please, please...," she begged. And I was not one to disappoint her. I went through all the way while continuing to flick her clit and soon the finger seemed to have reached the end of the road. So I probed up, trying to search for her G spot. The finger seemed to be heightening Emma's pleasure. She was moaning louder and her hips were squirming. A few more minutes and she could orgasm I thought. But I had other plans. I stopped licking her clit and pulled my finger out of her cunt slowly. I raised her hips a little and tongued my way down, along her perineum, to her tiny, crinkled brown hole. Emma's anus was already wet with all the juice from her cunt and the saliva I had spent around the region. Strangely, Emma was a little quieter now. Was she wondering what I would do next, or was she waiting for me to do what she desperately wanted? I got my answer as soon as I pushed my tongue in and started rimming her. "Oh my god, Dhruv, oh my god, I can't tell you how much I love that. Gosh, you are unbelievable." At first, Emma's anus seemed tasteless. But as I lingered and probed and pushed my tongue in, I realized it had a musky, cheesy taste to it. After what seemed like endless minutes, I reluctantly left her asshole and returned to her pussy, lapping the lips and flicking her clit furiously. But the asshole couldn't be left unattended. So I licked my middle finger, the one which had earlier been in her cunt, and touched its tip to her anus. "Oh yes Dhruv, push it in please, finger my bum," she whimpered. I obeyed without a murmur. Slowly I thrust the finger in. Emma's asshole was tight and I didn't want to hurt her. So I took my time. Soon my entire finger was up her anus and I let it stay motionless for moment before I started moving it around and pulling it back. That seemed to do it. Emma started to buck and moan faster. "Dhruv, don't stop honey, don't stop, I am close...don't stop," she moaned. I had no intention to. I increased the pace of my finger in her ass and my tongue on her clit. She began to buck even more and then cried out loud, moaning, groaning, growling and whimpering all at the same time. She bucked and thrashed around for almost a minute and then pulled my head away from her pussy, forcing me to pull my finger out of her ass. "Oh please stop, I can't take that anymore, please, it's too intense." I gave her pussy one final kiss and sat back, realizing how exhausted I was myself. My face was coated with her cream and I was as much in bliss as she was. Emma lay still on the sofa for what seemed like ages. And then she moved. She didn't utter a word. She quietly fetched the wine bottle, poured both of us another glass and started sipping. "Dhruv," she called out sweetly. "Where in hell were you hiding all this while. And where the hell did you learn to lick like that?" I just smiled and kept quiet, sloshing the wine around my mouth. Red wine always tasted better a round of pussy juice. She got off the sofa and came and sat next to me on the carpeted floor. She put the drink down next to her and threw her arms around me, kissing me straight on the lips. I kissed her back and soon our tongues were tasting each other, dancing inside each other's mouths. Obviously Emma wasn't finished I thought. I certainly wasn't. As we kissed I pushed her bath robe off her shoulders and unclasped the hook of her bra. Her lovely breasts bounced into view, her pencil-thin pink nipples poking stiff. She probably was a 32 B I presumed, but how did it matter as long as I could get it all into my mouth. I left her lips and bent down to her tits, kneading the left breast and taking the right one in my mouth. I sucked on her nipple, bit it with my lips while twirling the other one between my fingers. And she began to moan again. "My turn now, mister. Can't let you have all the fun," she said, making me wonder what she was up to. She pulled away from me and went down to the buttons of my cargo shorts. She unbuttoned it and pulled it off me. She pushed me back on the floor and knelt between my legs. My black underwear was bulging from my stiff dick under it and had a huge spot of pre-cum on it. Emma buried her nose in it, kissed it and licked my bulge through the cotton. But she didn't seem to want to waste much time. She clasped the elastic band and pulled it down, freeing my hard-on and giving my balls some much-needed air. I suddenly became conscious of something I had not thought of until that moment. No, I am not small built and have what should be a fairly average sized cock at 6 or 7 inches. It is a bit curved to the left but then I was old enough to know that that was fairly normal. It was the dark purple colour, or call it black if you want. And here I was, with a white woman. Would she mind? Or would she be put off? "That looks delicious," she said, as if reading my mind. She held my uncircumcised cock in her right hand and kissed the wet tip lightly. It was my turn to shudder. "My first uncircumcised and coloured penis," she seemed to tell herself, before she pulled the foreskin back and took the head in her small mouth. I wanted to close my eyes and just lie back and enjoy. But I also wanted to look at a white woman suck my cock. I picked the latter. Emma slowly swallowed my cock and pulled back, stopping at the bulb, playing with it with her tongue, sucking on it, sending shivers up my spine at the sight of her pencil-thin lips wrapped around me. Her left hand was busy playing with my balls before she moved her mouth lower and tongued them. I was groaning and holding her head in my hands. She was talented and was I glad. Emma then turned her attention to my thighs, licking, biting, kissing and nibbling before returning to my balls. She played with them as she gently lifted my hips and sunk lower. She spread my hips and kissed my dark anus a couple of times. Then came her tongue probing and licking around. I was going wild. Very few women had licked me there and although I loved it, I rarely asked the reluctant ones to do it since I understood their reluctance. But Emma, she was in love with it. And I loved her for it. But I also knew I needed something else. I needed to get inside her, feel the wetness and become one with her. "Emma," I whispered. "Yes honey." "I want to fuck you sweetheart." "Then what are you waiting for honey?" I lifted myself up and gently pulled her up from between my legs. We hugged and kissed again before I took off my T-shirt and both of us didn't have a stitch on us. I carried Emma in my arms and laid her on the large bed. We kissed and nibbled at each other's lips, necks, earlobes, shoulder blades and breasts. I put a finger between her pussy and found she was still dripping. She was tugging at my cock and tickling my balls. I got on top of Emma and she folded her knees and spread her thighs. I kissed her on the lips as she held my cock and guided it to the opening of her pussy. I pushed slowly and went in like a dream. "Oh god, that feels so good," both of us said together, and we smiled at the coincidence. I held her in my arms and moved slowly in the good old missionary position. "Oh Dhruv, your cock seems like it's made for my pussy. George has such a huge boner, he can never get it in fully and fucking him always comes with some pain," she said as I moved in and out of her. I didn't want to think of her husband or his dick, so I let it pass without comment. I wanted to do something else. I wanted to see my dark cock fuck that pink little pussy. I slowly pulled out of her and got off, switched on all the lights in the room and got back on the bed. Emma was still lying on her back, wondering what I was up to. I sat between her legs and entered her again while her legs curved around my waist. There it was, I could see myself push in and pull out of this beautiful white woman's pussy. And it was a great sight. "Emma, do you know what I can see?" "I know, and I want to see it too but in this position I can't." "Ok, hang on, let's move closer to the mirror on the closet door and change positions," I said. So I pulled out and we moved to the edge of the bed near the mirror. I lay down and Emma climbed on top in the cowgirl position, facing away from me and looking at the mirror. She inserted me into her and started riding me. Both of us could see our colourful union clearly in the mirror. More than the sensations between our legs, the sight in the mirror seemed to be overtaking us. I asked her to stop for a moment, turn around and ride me while facing me. She obediently followed my directions. I held her marvelous arse as she plunged up and down and our mouths were again one. I brought the middle finger of my right hand to my mouth, wet it with my tongue and took it back to Emma's anus. I pressed her asshole lightly, flicked it and slowly probed it. "Oh no, please, that will push me over the edge...." Emma was saying, but my finger wasn't listening. It was already snaking its way inside and Emma began to buck harder and moan, like she was almost about to break down and cry. I tried matching her pace by finger-fucking her asshole faster and that only made it worse for her. Emma alternated between groaning and whimpering, closing her eyes tightly and forcing that orgasm to hit her without any delay. Looking at the delirious expression, I couldn't hold back, although I was hoping to be able to last longer. I let go and came groaning loudly, just as her orgasm was subsiding. Emma stopped moving and collapsed on me. My semen had begun to trickle out of her pussy, which still had my rapidly shrinking cock inside. I slowly pulled out of her and turned around after putting her down on her side. I snuck between her thighs and put my mouth on her pussy, pushing my tongue in and licking her cunt clean of all the juices we had produced. Emma moaned again and responded by taking my flaccid cock in her mouth and sucking it clean. We lay there in that classical 69 position for god knows how long before I turned back and took her in my arms. We kissed what must have been the most passionate kiss of the day. Tasting each other in our mouths. I thought I noticed a tear in Emma's eyes, and kissed it. "Are you all right Emma," I asked. "Never felt better Dhruv. Never felt better. Just that am completely overwhelmed, it was intense, just too good." "Don't thank me honey. I had as much fun as you did if not more," I said as I hugged her and planted a kiss on her lips. This time, I was not lying! ### East Meets West Caucasian American woman falls for an Asian man in Hong Kong, China. * Jing Houng, better known as Jimmy Hung, aptly named because his penis was so small, no doubt, and I were friends in college. We attended the same university and lived in the same dormitory annex. A co-ed dorm, he lived on the second floor and I lived on the third floor. We were part of a close knit group of six, three women and three men, who studied together, ate together, and partied together. Except for some light kissing and petting, when high, none of us had a romantic connection with one another. We were all interested in and dated other people. All of us had other regular fuck buddies that weren't part of our tight dormitory group. Part of our college experience, we were just pals that hung out together. After graduation, we all went our separate ways. Promising we wouldn't, we lost contact with one another. I returned to my small town life and he returned home to Hong Kong, where his family owned some sort of manufacturing and import, export business. From what I gathered, they were very wealthy. When I thought of Jimmy, I thought of him at the same time that I thought of my other five friends. I thought of him as part of our group. I never thought of him alone, as someone, with whom I'd like to develop a serious romantic relationship. He was Jimmy and we were just friends. We liked one another well enough as friends, but there wasn't any sexual and romantic chemistry between us. When we were together, we had a good time laughing. We spoke on the phone a few times and exchanged e-mail addresses and even made plans for the six of us to meet in San Francisco, a halfway point, as a reunion, but life happens. I was in a new relationship, got pregnant, and, after the birth of my son, that was that. The guy who impregnated me took off, when I told him that I was pregnant. It turned out that he was married, already, anyway. I should have known. Instead of having an abortion, against my religion, I had the baby and it was the best thing I ever did. Our relationship, the love and the laughter, was all too good to be true, that is, until I became pregnant and complicated his life with a child he didn't want. I didn't see Jimmy again, until nearly ten years later, when I accepted a job for a very famous and exclusive suitcase and handbag manufacturer. That summer, I thought I'd be spending another summer home alone with my son and taking day trips. Not that there was anything wrong with that. I love my son and I love spending time with him, but Mommy has needs, too. A single Mom, I've been dedicated to raising him alone. He needs a Dad, someone to share the responsibility and to show him how to be a man. Only, there aren't a lot of men who want a woman with a child. Before taking off for my two week summer vacation, I was excited when my company asked me, if I'd accompany a team to scout out a factory location in China. Since the birth of my son, I haven't had a real summer vacation in years and I viewed the trip as more pleasure than business. At that point in my life, anywhere I went other than the park, the beach, or Disney World, was a real treat. Except for missing my son, watched over by my Mom, I was geared up to having some fun in a place that I always wanted to see. While there, maybe I could get in contact with Jimmy to see if we could rehash old times? He'd be good for a lunch and a few laughs. Only, I wondered if it would be awkward seeing him alone without the rest of the group. Having lost touch with him, I dug out his old e-mail address that was still saved in my computer and contacted him. "Jimmy! How are you? Guess what? I'm coming to Hong Kong on business. Can we meet for lunch? I'd love to see you again." It was an innocent e-mail reconnecting with an old college friend and I didn't think any more about it, that is, until he responded. He floored me when he wrote back, not because he responded to my e-mail, but by what he wrote in his e-mail. He sounded so excited and surprised me with his hospitality. "Susan! That's amazing! I'm so excited. I can't wait to see you. Lunch? Don't be silly. You are my guest in my country and will stay at my house. I insist. You will insult my Chinese heritage, if you decline my invitation and will have very bad luck, if you don't stay at my home, as my special guest. Come and stay with me. I will show you Hong Kong." He told me not to make hotel reservations, which my company made anyway, but that he'd put me up in his house. Not knowing how my fellow employees would feel not having me available for early breakfasts and late night, impromptu meetings, I was a little reticent to stay at Jimmy's house, at first, but it was Jimmy. I was in an awkward position. I didn't want to insult Jimmy's Chinese heritage and have the curse of very bad luck, but I was there on business to do a job and my absence wouldn't bode well with the rest of the group. It wasn't as if Jimmy and I were strangers. We were friends and, during our college years, we shared a lot of our good times, as well as some bad time memories. Having seen one another at our best and at our worst, we were pals and I was excited to see him again. Then, when I talked to him on the phone, he sounded so excited that I was coming to visit his country, China, and his city, Hong Kong, how could I say no? Sure enough, when I got off the plane in Hong Kong, there was a driver holding up a sign with my name on it. Embarrassed and a bit uncomfortable, when the driver escorted me out to the car to take me to Jimmy's house, I watched my co-workers head for the shuttle bus to take them to their hotel. Already hot and humid, as soon as I stepped out of the airport terminal, I could feel the heat of the day, as well as the jealous stares I received from my fellow coworkers. They stood further down and away from me waiting for the bus to take them to their hotel. This was a chance in a lifetime to see Jimmy again, but I still needed to do my job. Jimmy assured me that his driver would drive me to meet up with my group later. The fellow employees looked at me, stared, actually, as if I was abandoning them to join the PLA, the People's Liberation Army, but I told them that I was meeting up with an old college friend and to go ahead without me. I had their itinerary in my Blackberry and I'd catch up with them later. I waved my good-bye and made the hand sign that I'd call them. Definitely, I'd be there with them to take the factory tours and to scout out other possible and potential sites for our new factory. No matter where I go, how far I go, and how long I stay, after losing my luggage once, I now only travel with a small carryon. It's unfortunate, since I work for a luggage company and can buy whatever I want and need in a high quality and matching suitcase dirt cheap. The driver took charge of my carryon bag. He would have carried me, if I asked, as he was a very large man for a Chinaman. Jimmy was only 5'8", at the most, and weighed a mere 150 pounds soaking wet. This behemoth of a man stood about 6'7" tall and weighed more than 300 pounds. I wouldn't want to stand in his way in the buffet line. I'm not a car buff, by any stretch of the imagination, but I do know some cars and Gang, the name of my driver, certainly, he was a gang of one, escorted me out to this beautiful car that I had no idea what it was. Except, whatever it was, it looked expensive. It was big and it had a shiny black on the roof, hood, and trunk, and the sides of the car were a deep maroon. All the chrome pieces were plated in gold, including the wheels. It was an absolutely gorgeous automobile. I stepped around the back, when the driver was storing my bag in the trunk to see the name of the car, Maybach 62. Wow. Even though I never heard of the name of the car, I knew it was expensive. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of my group staring at me and the car and, as disconcerting as that was, I felt a bit uncomfortable. They'll be telling the big boss that I took off with an old friend. Not good. I'll have some explaining to do when I return to work in the United States. On the way to Jimmy's house, we drove through downtown Hong Kong. It reminded me of Mexico City, when I went to Mexico on spring break with Jimmy and the group, another lifetime ago. There were people everywhere and all the houses were huddled together. For sure, I'd never want to live there. I hoped Jimmy had a penthouse apartment somewhere near here, so that I wouldn't feel the claustrophobia that I was suddenly feeling now in the midst of so many people. Only, moving people out of the way as it went, I was surprised when the car slowly wiggled down the crowded, narrow streets and headed out of town, towards the ocean. There, high on a hill that overlooked mainland China was Jimmy's palatial mansion. He lived in a section where there were lots of palatial palaces. His wasn't even the best one. One house after the other was even more exclusive. By the look of it and the style and size of the homes, I felt I was in China's version of Beverly Hills. The driver stopped the car in front and came around to open my door. As if I was the queen coming home to the palace, I was greeted by his staff at the front door. Everyone was lined up and deeply bowing, as if ready for my inspection and instruction. A castle of a mansion, I felt like royalty walking up to the house. As soon as I walked inside, I saw Jimmy standing there in his smoking jacket looking like the Asian version of Hugh Hefner. Beaming wildly, as if he had a secret, private joke, as if this was just a college prank, obvious by his welcome, he appeared so very happy to see me. If I didn't know Jimmy any better, I would think that he had a secret crush on me. He was fawning all over me, touching me, hugging me, and kissing me on the cheek and the hands. When I returned his hug, I was poked with something big and hard. It felt like a gun and I didn't say anything to him at the time. The poke of his weapon startled me. I wondered what kind of business his family had. Was he into something illegal? He said his family owned a manufacturing company and imported and exported goods. What type of goods? Drugs? Now thinking of him more as a drug lord then I did as Jimmy, I had a different perception of him, suddenly. Between the time change and the long flight there, I lost track of time. I was having such a good time visiting with Jimmy that I forgot that I was there on business. Swooning by the gracious hospitality of him and his staff, I put the thoughts of his illegal business aside, too. Tomorrow I was supposed to meet up with my fellow employees to drive around Hong Kong looking at available properties for a factory, but today I was relaxing. I was having so much fun with Jimmy that I just wanted to stay here with him and relive my old college days, memories that suddenly made me feel so carefree and younger. That night, after a sumptuous dinner that I imagined they served at the White House, I relaxed with Jimmy in the living room. We drank this wonderful wine that made me giddy. It was so good seeing an old friend and he promised to give me a tour of the city tomorrow. I remember saying something to him, but for the life of me, I don't remember what I said, because while in mid-sentence, he kissed me. To say that his kiss startled me, shocked me, actually, would have been a huge understatement. I never expected Jimmy to kiss me. I didn't know he had that kind of an attraction to me. At first, what was just an exploratory peck really turned into more and into the real thing. I surprised myself, when I kissed him back, before offering him my tongue. Admittedly, at that point, blaming it on the wine, I was a little drunk. Within a minute, we were making out. I couldn't believe I was making out with Jimmy, someone who I had never been sexually attracted to, but his kisses were unbelievable and now I was fully aroused. He was making me so hot and horny. Then, I felt his hand exploring my body and touching me everywhere, but I didn't care. Welcoming the sudden intimacy, it felt good for him to touch me in that way. He started feeling my breasts and when I felt his fingertips lightly trace my nipples, immediately, they responded. His touch was magical. Then, he slowly raised the hem of my skirt feeling my thighs, before reaching under my skirt and behind me to cup my ass through my panties. Oh, my God, I thought I was going to cum. I couldn't believe that I was allowing Jimmy to round the bases. When I e-mailed him, I never expected this would happen. As if kidnapped and taken away through the desert by Lawrence of Arabia, between his deep, wet kisses, the touch of his hand on my thighs, my ass, and my breasts, that first night was the most erotic night I ever had. My foreign adventure, I was ready and more than willing to do whatever was his desire. Lightly, ever so gently, as if a tease, he touched me between my legs through my panty with the tips of his fingers, before cupping my pussy in the palm of his hand. I shivered with goose bumps and tingled with delight with the thoughts of what was to happen next. It felt so good for him to touch me there and in that way, and I was already so very wet, that I wanted more. I was ready to be fucked and fucked hard by my college friend, that I haven't seen in ten years. This yellow, Chinaman, Jing Houng, known as Jimmy Hung, so aptly named because he had such a small cock, that I didn't care if his penis was only a few inches, I wanted it inside of me and I wanted him on top of me. Then, I felt it again, his weapon. It was so big and it was so hard. It had been a while since I had sex and between the wine, the very long flight, and the foreign location, I was ready for anything. I haven't had a man and hot sex since my married boyfriend left me, which was several years ago. I've had a couple of lovers, men who picked me up at a bar, but I used them as a dildo, as much as they thought they were using me as a whore. Yet, I missed having a connection with a man and I had one now with Jimmy. When he moved his leg over my leg, is when I felt his gun, yet, again. Damn, why does he need a gun in his house? Why does he need a gun now, when we're here alone on the couch getting reacquainted? Does he carry a gun everywhere he goes? Is his business so dangerous and his life in such danger that he must be armed at all times? Even though the thought of him being a criminal was deliciously exciting, I wasn't in the mood for any of that now. I was horny, ready, and in the mood to be fucked and fucked hard and his gun was an impediment to me getting what I so wanted and needed. It was time I said something. It was time I found out what kind of dirty, dangerous business my college friend was doing, so that he could remove his gun and we could get on with the business of making love. "Jimmy, you could at least remove your gun, when kissing me. It hurts like Hell when it pokes my stomach like that." "Gun? I don't have a gun, Susan," he said pulling back and looking down at his bulge, before looking at me. I looked too and what I thought was his gun was his cock. Oh, my God, Jing Houng, better known as Jimmy Hung, aka Jimmy Hung, no misnomer, was hung. All this time I was thinking, especially by the petite size of him that he had the typical, small, Asian cock. Boy was I ever wrong. This man had a monster in his pants. By this time, after drinking that wine, making out, and feeling his hands all over my body, I was so sexually aroused that I had to see it. I had to feel it. I had to hold it, stoke it, suck it, and fuck it. "Jimmy, are you kidding me? That's your cock? No way! It's huge," I said poking at it with my finger, as if it would bite me. "Why do you think they called me Jimmy Hung." Now, finally getting the joke hearing him repeat it with his Chinese accent, Jimmy hung, I laughed. "I thought just the opposite. I thought they were making fun of you because you had a small penis," I said running my hand along his big bulge and watching his reaction when I did. "Jimmy has no small dick," he said with his familiar Chinese accent. "Jimmy has dragon in his pants." "Oh, Jimmy," I said feeling the bulge in his pants with my hand. "I bet you've made a lot of women very happy with this." "Not as happy as I hope to make you, Susan." "What do you mean?" Of course I knew what he meant by his innuendo of making me happy, but knowing Jimmy as I do, he meant something more when he said that. The Chinese never just say something for the Hell of it. They talk in riddles. They always have another, deeper meaning behind it. "I always had a thing for you and still do, Susan," he said with eyes that told me that he loved me. "I always wanted you, but I was afraid with me being Asian and you being Caucasian, that you'd reject my advances." Suddenly, he fell quiet and look at the floor, before looking at me. "I've always been in love with you, Susan." Suddenly, Mrs. Jing Houng went through my mind. I could almost picture the big diamond he'd surely slip on my finger, the extravagant wedding we'd have, and living here in this beautiful house with him, my son, and his dragon. As soon as I thought all of that, I scolded myself for thinking that. What the Hell kind of wine did he give me to drink? "Really?" Oh, my God. I couldn't believe that Jimmy just said the L word. It's been a long time since anyone but my parents have said that to me. "Certainly, your race wouldn't have mattered. Yet, admittedly, I never felt the connection to you then, that I feel now," I said grabbing a bigger handful of his cock and gently rubbing it, as if giving him a hand job through his pants. I couldn't wait to see his cock. It felt so big. It felt so hard. I couldn't wait to feel it in my hand. I couldn't wait to feel it inside of me. Shocked by his confession, I looked at him wondering if he was the one I'd be with forever. It's the wine. Definitely, it's the wine. Yet, I've been so alone and lonely lately. Now, with all of this romantic attention, here in a foreign land, and to be treated like a queen, along with the physical and sexual attraction, well, it's a bit overwhelming. "I'm glad you're here, Susan. I'm so very happy you accepted my invitation. I'm thrilled that I'm finally getting to know you better and in the way that I've dreamt about being with you for so very long," he said taking my face in his hands and kissing me. "After all these years, you've been pining over me," I said after his kiss with a nervous and surprised laugh. "I'm shocked. I'm flattered, more than flattered. I can't believe it." "I always figured you weren't interested in me because I was Chinese. I didn't want to push the issue for fear that I'd ruin our friendship. Yet, I always hoped you'd show me some sign of interest for me to make the first move, but you never did, that is, until now." "I never knew you felt about me like this, Jimmy. You should have said something to make your feelings known. I always liked you, as a friend, and I may have reciprocated your feelings had I known how you felt about me." "Well, I'm making them known now, Suan," he said giving me a smile, before giving me a long, wet kiss. "Shall we retire to the bedroom?" "Sure," I said. "I can't wait to see Godzilla." "Godzilla? Godzilla is Japanese. Jimmy's cock is the real Chinese dragon. I named him Ti-Lung." "You named your cock?" "All guys named their cocks, Susan." "Okay, I'll bite. What does Ti-Lung mean in English?" "Earth dragon. Ready to get better acquainted with Jimmy's Earth dragon, as soon as I started to undress, he stopped me. I thought he had suddenly changed his mind. Suddenly, I could feel the disappointment and sexual frustration wash over me. If this was Jimmy's idea of a joke, then he had gone too far. He was always doing that in college, playing practical jokes, and I should have known. East Meets West "Is there something wrong?" "I'd like to undress you, if you don't mind," he said with a bit of nervousness. "Please do," I said relieved that he was serious about wanting me and being in love with me. I stood and put my hands down by my side and allowed him to remove my clothes. It felt wonderful to be stripped naked by him. We were the same height and he enjoyed pressing his dragon against me, as I continued rubbing it and as he undressed me. "It's my turn," I said, once naked. I took my time removing his shirt and tee shirt, before unbuckling, unzipping and pulling down his pants. His cock tented his underwear and I fell to my knees and took him in my mouth through his silk boxers. Suddenly, popping out through his pee hole, there it was and it was huge, it was magnificent, it was the biggest cock I've ever seen. Jimmy's hung. Whoever would have known? Lucky me. I gave him the best blowjob I ever gave a man, before he lifted me up and placed me on the bed. We kissed so much and then I felt him stretching me to enter me. At first it was a little painful, but I immediately adjusted to the immense size of him. It wasn't long before we were rolling around the bed fucking, really fucking, before switching and making love. Never have I've been made love to like that before. It was, bar none, the best romantic evening and the hottest sex I ever had. "Jimmy, I'm not on the pill. Maybe you should wear a condom or pull out," I said. "It's okay, Susan. I love you." "You do? Honestly?" I could do this. I could love this man. In the way my life has been going lately working my ass off for a suitcase and handbag company, maybe the best thing that could happen to me is to become Mrs. Jimmy Houng. "Yes, I do. I love you, Susan." I was stunned. Suddenly, everything was magical. With those four words, I love you, Susan, I didn't care if he made me pregnant either. He came inside me and he came again in my mouth, after I blew him. We spent the week making love. For sure, I would have been fired for missing nearly every factory tour and every meeting, but Jimmy came to my rescue by taking me on a personal and private tour of a factory that he knew was for sale or for lease. It was perfect and I took photos of it and sent them to my other team members. We met them there and they agreed that the factory was the best of the properties they had toured. Everything was already in place and they'd have to spend very little for leasehold improvements. Moreover, it was in a highly populated location, where they'd have a huge labor pool of people to hire. I was a hero, yet it didn't matter. I no longer needed my job. I'd never have to work again. Jimmy and I were married shortly after I returned to China for good with my son. What had started out as a business trip to China ended up as a lifetime of summer lovin'. East Meets West:... East Meets West: the Internet Connection It was a rainy East Coast morning as I slugged my leather bag over my shoulder and headed to the train station. What the heck am I doing? I thought to myself. I sipped my steaming morning mocha. I was dressed in my favorite black wool skirt, gray tight cashmere pullover sweater, black hose, and my favorite Donna Karan black pumps. I looked like I was headed to a business meeting. This meeting was under the guise of "business." I had worked under contract for this man whom I had met on the Internet. No, it was legitimate work-- not a woman-of-the evening kind of work. I worked in public relations and I had found his name on a freelance website. Here I was, and after 3 years of contact with him we were finally meeting. We had chosen New York City as our destination. I am from California and was visiting the East Coast on vacation and was taking the train from upstate to the city. I'm insane, I thought to myself over and over as I nestled into my seat on the train. As the engines whirred and stirred, my heart pounded thinking of our many sensual conversations, late night chats, and sweet orgasms that had swept through my body because of him. He was married. He was honest and straightforward about his status. He was young and we were beyond sexually compatible with each other. I swore we were sexually made for each other. Our conversations didn't turn sexual until about a few years into our contact. After the business dealings, our emails grew to a more personal and deeper level. We were friends above anything else though but there was a catch to this Internet friendship: we were friends who wanted to fuck each other. I lived with my boyfriend but our relationship was tenuous after being broken up for a year. I wasn't unhappy but something inside me wanted to push the limit and see where this meeting led me with this sexy man. It was risky and dangerous, but hey we were both bad Catholic kids who craved evil adventures with each other. Who knows what could happen? The five-hour train ride whizzed by as I thought about our meeting. I arrived at Penn Station black umbrella in hand and my briefcase slung over my shoulder. I was wrapped snugly in my coat. I saw him standing nervously by a pillar. I immediately went up to him, touched his arm, and smiled at him. He gave me a warm hug and at that moment, the ice was broken and we both felt comfortable. We hailed a taxi and we drove through the pelting rain to a quaint and lovely hotel in a very posh section of the city. He told me he couldn't wait for me to see our room it was beautiful and perfect for me. How sweet, I thought. We walked into the grandiose lobby holding hands. I couldn't believe he was here and that I was with him. He was dressed in charcoal grey slacks and a black sweater. He was casually sophisticated. He was cute and sexy at the same time 6 2 with a husky build that towered over me. I had never been with a man with his type of build before. I'm petite (5 ft) so it would be interesting to see how our bodies meshed together in bed. I was starting to get butterflies in my stomach as we approached the door. He turned the key and I gasped. The room was a deluxe master suite filled with rich antiques and decorated in smoky hues of reds, rusts and greens with a 4-poster king size bed directly in the center of the room. It was sensually rich and perfect for our tryst. "It s breathtaking, isn't it?" he whispered, as he led me to the window and pointed to the gorgeous, misty skyline view. "Yes," I could barely mumble as I felt his warm hands slide down my back. We took off our coats and he hung them up for us. I was starting to feel warm and comfortable yet nervous and excited. I noticed a bottle of champagne chilling on ice in the corner with delicate strawberries and a bowl of cream in a silver bowl sitting on the round mahogany table. We looked at each other and time froze as he walked over to me and put his arms around me. "I can't believe I have you here," he breathed in my ear. "I can't believe I'm actually here," I laughed softly. He kissed each of my cheeks and then felt his warm, soft lips on mine. My heart was pounding and my arms were shaking as I kissed him tentatively. Our kissing grew more fervent as I felt his strong, sexy hands roam down my back and to my ass. He grabbed my ass cheeks playfully and moaned into my ear. "God, I have been thinking about touching your sexy ass ever since I heard your first orgasm over the phone." I felt myself growing wet and my body was tingling. My nipples hardened against the soft, black satin of my bra. I wanted his hands all over me. That was when my brain turned to mush and we were two mad people-- rushing and roaming our hands over each other. I felt his tongue slip into mine his hot, warm tongue tickling and taunting mine. My juices poured out of me from his kisses alone. I didn't remember how or when our clothes came off and that he led me by the hand to the bed. He asked me to keep on my black silk thong. I felt bold and as we kissed I straddled his stomach. I then reached down and pulled his sweater over his head. "So does your theory still stand? I want to show you how much I want to be here," I purred teasingly into his ear running my hands down his broad, bare chest. "Mmmm. So you prefer to be on top is that it?" he challenged as he reached up to tweak my rock hard nipples with his fingers. "Yes. I want you to prove to you how much I want to be here," I said grinding my silk-clad pussy into his stomach scooting my body down so my pussy was in direct contact with his crotch. I felt his hard cock straining against his pants. My pussy gushed as I ground harder into his crotch and felt our heat mix together. Without wasting another minute, he gently pushed me off while he took off his pants and boxers in one fell swoop. I could hear his labored breathing and his slow, sexy smile gleamed devilishly at me as he planted me back onto his stomach. He stopped and started kissing my mouth again and caressed my 36-C rounded, full, creamy breasts (one of my best features next to my ass). My nipples were so hard that they ached and my pussy was a fountain. "God I need to be inside you now, girl," he moaned hoarsely against my mouth. I looked down to see his cock straining against my stomach a beautiful, thick, rigid cock waiting for me. The sight of his cock almost caused me to spasm with a mini orgasm. I had been dreaming about his cock every night and now here it was against my skin. I reached down and touched him for the first time. He exhaled loudly as my fingers play with his turgid tip pre-cum oozing out of his tip. I brought the pre-cum to my lips and sucked it from my fingers. He bucked against me as if he was about ready to cum. "Not yet. I want you to explode inside me and I want to take a very long time riding your beautiful cock." I pushed my soaking wet panties to one side and crouched over him. I directed his tip to my shaved pussy lips only a small thatch of dark bush on the top. I rubbed his tip enticingly around my lips. He sat up watching me intently a look of sheer torment and pleasure on his face. I guided his granite-like cock inside me as I sat on top of him. I almost shouted out his cock completely filled me. I rode slowly at first-- up and down in and out teased him and brought him to the edge a few times. He reached down, found my clit and played with my swollen nub as I ground my pussy on him. I rode faster and harder. "God, I love fucking you. I imagined you would feel this amazing. I love how you fill up my pussy completely," I moaned loudly. "Please fuck me. I need to feel you cum all over my cock, girl. I need it right now. I ve waited too long for your sweet orgasms," he begged me and grabbed onto my curvy ass and rubbed and caressed my cheeks with his soft hands. I became a mad woman riding him and fucking him like it had been centuries since I ve fucked a man. I couldn't fuck him fast enough or hard enough. I felt my clit swelling and I could feel my climax building. Our orgasms hit us both at the same time in a frenzied, maddening climax. "OHHHH GODDDDDDDDDDD, I'm cumminggggggggggggggg," I screamed loudly as my pussy exploded in wave after wave of crashing orgasms. "Oh girl, here I cummmmmmmmmmmmmm, God it feels soooooooo gooddddddddddd!" he groaned wildly as he shot his cum inside me feeling his cock pulse and explode inside my warm, wet pussy. After we both calmed down and came back to Earth I collapsed on top of his broad chest my face flushed and my heart pounding like crazy. I felt his heart beating out of control as well as I rubbed my cheek against his chest&his hands were buried in my hair. I slowly got off his cock and and curled my body up against his warm, damp, and very sexy body. I felt lightheaded and drowsy. He looked over at me and whispered, "Yes, you definitely proved that you wanted to be with me." I sucked slyly on his earlobe and seductively teased back, "Fair is fair. Now it's your turn to prove how much you want to be with me." East Meets West This story is bit different from the others, with less raceplay involved and more emphasis on romance (though still with strong dominant/submissive themes). Credit goes primarily to my co-writer for whom I edit, but who wishes to remain anonymous. All characters depicted are over the age of 18. * We're riding together along a dusty trail, just the two of us atop my trusty horse. I'm feeling the warmth of her body on mine, her back against my chest as I pull her tight against me, hearing her purr contentedly with my hands moving around her bare stomach. Her skin is warm and smooth under my fingertips, her stomach flat and hard. She feels my fingers moving down her body and she moans softly, the hard leather of the saddle rubbing rough against her bare pussy lips, rubbing her clit as the horse moves under her. The sun beats down on us and she feels my hands pull back on the reins gently to slow the beast and, from experience, she knows what's coming. She slides to the side and drops easily from the saddle, but her legs buckle as she hit the warm sand. Her knees are sore and her entire body aches from the long day in the saddle, and between her legs is even sorer from the time we've spent out of the saddle. But she knows what's going to happen. She knows I don't care how sore she is. It's been about three hours, right on schedule. She finds a relatively comfortable spot in the sand but her knees are already burning. She gets on her hands and knees anyway, her tiny ass pointing up at me, her destroyed qipao gone from her small breasts down, and as she bends over, her straw hat slipping off her head and falling gently onto the hot sand. What's left of it slides up her body and up around her neck. She looks downright ridiculous like that, with her cunt open and spread for me, her body naked under the hot sun. She hears the jingle of the spurs on my boots and the unzipping of my trousers as I approach, her long black hair covering her face as she lowers her head. Tears form in her eyes as she feels my thick cock push up hard past her pussy lips into that tight yellow cunt, spearing her from behind, her body lurching forward. She feels the leather of my chaps pressing hard against her ass, the rough denim of my trousers open just enough at the fly, chafing her bottom as I pound her. She smells the sweat and dirt and the sun on my body. She smells my horse and he smells her back, neighing loudly behind her somewhere, smelling her dripping pussy as I slam into her again and again, rocking her forward into the sand, pushing her head down into the hot earth, sweat dripping off my chin down onto her naked back, and then she feels me thrust even harder, once, jamming my cock up into her tiny little oriental body. She feels me empty inside of her once again, pumping fast and hard, my thick white cock spurting deep into her womb. Then I'm gone, a loud squelch as my cock vacates her dripping cunt, leaving her dripping cum into the sand, panting and gasping. She realizes I've dropped my hat onto her ass and she hears me laughing, already back up in the saddle, and so she slowly, gingerly, lifts herself up out of the sand and straightens what's left of her dress. She climbs back up in front of me, cringing in pain as her raw cunt presses against the hot leather of the saddle. She looks up at the sun, trying to gauge how long she has until she's back in the sand with my sweaty dick crammed in her pussy. She feels my lips on her neck and she smiles, pressing her tiny body back against mine as we set off again, my arm wrapped tight around her slim bare waist, smiling, enjoying the feeling of the horse beneath us, the sun warm on her skin... Things between us weren't always so cozy. It all started one hot afternoon. I rode into a small town that day, tired and sore from the saddle like so many other days, two weeks of beard on my face, dry and dusty and smelling like horse and trail. I needed a woman, a drink, a bath and a bed... and not necessarily in that order. I tied up my horse outside the bathhouse and stepped inside, pushing my hat back off my head, letting it fall on its lanyard behind my back. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim interior, but when they did, it looked exactly like every other chink bathhouse out here. I hollered for the owner, and this old yellow crone toddled out, bowing and scraping and gesturing to me, babbling in that nonsense they all speak. She led me to the baths, which were not being used by anyone else, and gestured for me to get into the one that was full of steaming water. I yelled at the woman to leave so that I could undress, and eventually she seemed to get the message, but then before I could even get my hat off, this other chink bitch poked her head in and walked right over to me. "Ah shit," I remember thinking. At least this one was younger though, a slim but curvy thing, kinda pretty I guess, in the way they have, looking like young women with firm little rumps and perky little teats. She was wearing this silky looking dress thing, very clingy and tight, with flowers all over it, a high collar and basically no sleeves. Anyway, next thing I knew she was reaching up and started unbuttoning my shirt. I pushed her hands away and said I'd do it myself, but she didn't seem to get the message and kept unbuttoning it until it was open down to my waist, and then she pulled it out of my pants and slipped it off my shoulders. The whole time I felt her bare arms brushing against my body, and like I said, I needed a woman and a bath, and the order didn't matter. I figured this yellow filly for a whore and laughed a little inside. Boy would she be cross when she found out I was damn near broke. Anyway, as she got closer to me, I could smell the soap in her black hair, feeling the warmth of her light brown skin on mine. That tight body beneath that smooth, silky material pressed against me, and my body responded. Two weeks on the trail with only a horse for company will do that to a man. I felt my body responding to hers, the way any man's body would respond to a young, fertile woman, especially one as nubile and comely as this one. I felt a buzzing in my head, like the blood was rushing through my body. I felt my knees weaken as her tiny hands moved over my stomach, down to my belt and my trousers, filthy and smelling like dust and horse and blood and campfires. The girl on the other hand smelled so good and clean, so soft next to my rough skin and my unshaven face, her face pure and clean and unblemished, her eyes dark and bright. Before I could restrain myself, my hands were on her sides, feeling how slim she was but also round in all the right places, and in a flash my lips were on hers, feeling them spread for me, my tongue finding hers. I couldn't care anymore and I couldn't stop. It was her own damn fault for touching me that way and for dressing like she did. I might've started out wanting a hot bath in peace but now my hands were all over her body, pulling it against mine, feeling her squirm and thrash, so hot and feisty. Still, it took no effort to force her face to mine, to kiss her and to grab her long black smooth hair and pull her head back until she couldn't move, kissing those sweet lips, my beard scraping against her tanned chinadoll face. She kissed me back, and I felt my knees buckle, my head spinning, lost in lust for this oriental flower. It was only out of the corner of my eye, with my last ounce of sense, that I felt her hand move from the small of my back where it had rested so delicately, gone for a moment, and something buried deep within me screamed silently, blowing past the lust clouding my thoughts and shouting "Danger!" I opened my eyes just in time to see her slim arm sweeping down towards my neck, a small stiletto in her fingers driving towards my jugular, and my arm came up just in time, blocking the blow and taking a nick along my forearm. Her other hand suddenly started slapping at me and I let it, ignoring the light blows across my cheek and chest, concentrating only on blocking the dagger. I finally caught her tiny wrist in my hand and twisted it, hard, feeling her drop the knife as I pushed down. This forced her to fall to her knees in the dirt, her face flushed and her smooth black hair in disarray. "Johansson sent you, didn't he?" The railroad tycoon had been trying to getting me to sell out to him for a year now. I guess he had moved on to other methods of persuasion. Frankly, I liked the part where he offered to give me cold hard cash a lot better than this. I saw the defeat in the eyes of my would-be killer, those slanty brown doe eyes. She knew that she'd failed, that Johansson didn't deal well with failure. Her life was mine now, she knew it and she knew that I knew it. To send her back to him would most likely be a death sentence for her anyway. I looked down at her, half in pity since she didn't look like a cold killer. I wouldn't have even been surprised if this was her first job, making me wonder what Johansson must've had on her to make her do this... but I quickly wave the thought away. If she was ready to kill, she should've been ready to die. I reached down with one hand and lifted her to her feet, her slim body trembling before me. I reached out with one hand, wrapped my fingers around her soft neck and squeezed, hard, trying not to look into her eyes as I applied pressure, her hands suddenly scrambling for my forearm, clawing at me in panic, her face turning red and her nostrils flaring as she fought for air. As this was happening I was surprised to find that a still had a raging boner as I felt it pressing against my trousers. I realized I still needed a woman, so why waste this one? I slowly relaxed my grip to the sound of her gasping hard as she drew a deep breath, panting raggedly with total relief in her eyes. The look quickly changed however as I suddenly spun her around and push her hard against the side of the nearby bathtub. It was high and came up just below her waist, and she fell forward with the ends of her hair falling into the warm water, the steam rising off it and flushing her face, making her breath hard as she spread her arms to grip the sides, trying to keep from plunging face first into the warm water. Then she felt me behind her, bare from the waist up. I had the knife she dropped and I used the razor sharp tip to slice cleanly along the back of her silk dress, drawing the blade around underneath quickly but carefully. I've used a knife before. As I drew it up under her tiny breasts and back around, she barely moved or even breathed. She then felt a sudden rush of cool air on her body as the fabric fell away, dropping into the dust and leaving her with barely enough to cover her hard brown nipples. She felt the air on her cunt lips as she bent over, off-balance, and then she felt my big rough hands on her soft smooth hips and she braced herself, knowing what was coming. And then it happens. She felt a burning pain, a sharp flash in her brain as I pushed myself up into her, the rough filthy fabric of my trousers rubbing harshly against her bottom, abrading her, burning as I began fucking her tight little chink cunt, hard and deep, thrusting my big white dick into her body over and over, her face flushed and red from the steam of the water only inches from her face, her hips in pain from grinding against the wood of the bathtub and her cunt on fire, stretched wide open by my massive white cock. My smell was overpowering, dirty and rough, hard and big. It was everywhere, enveloping her, and then she heard me grunt loudly, pushing hard into her as I came inside her, filling her womb completely with my hot seed. As I stopped thrusting and let out soft groan, she felt a single tear roll down her cheek and plop loudly into the water below her. I watched her petite frame collapse over the tub, and saw my thick cum dripping slowly between her thighs as her body convulsed. Two weeks is a long time and I was still hard as a tree trunk. Sometimes I surprise myself. Before she could even react, I was back behind her, using my own cum to lubricate my cock and press it back between her legs. She let out a shrill yelp that quickly turned into a moan as she felt me back up inside her, filling that void that I had left just moments before. She was feeling so complete, so full, so utterly right with me buried inside her, know that something had been missing, that she only knew what it was and that it was missing at all when I was deep inside her, and then not. Only when I stopped fucking her did she know that she needed me inside her, that she would only ever feel that same completeness with me riding her. The thought sent her over the edge, and suddenly she was thrashing beneath me, her bottom bucking back against my hips, her fingers reaching for her nipples and squeezing them beneath what was left of her dress, pinching and twisting as her body exploded, with waves upon waves of pleasure moving through her, forcing her to surrender herself as her cunt spasmed hard again and again on my cock as it was buried deep within her. She twisted her head, trying to look back at me, smelling me, moaning hard as I pushed up into her. I leaned down and kissed her mouth, my bare chest on her naked back as I pushed myself all the way up inside her. My denim-clad hips rubbed roughly against her perfect, tiny bottom, grinding up against her in the dust-covered interior of the bathhouse, the air heavy and hot and still around us. Both of us dripped with sweat as I pulled her to me and held her tight, her body clenching hard against mine. We kissed for the longest time as my member once more pulsed deep inside her cunt, both of us groaning and panting and sweating and trembling, my cock again emptying itself inside of her, the feeling in her body one of total and complete satisfaction for the first time in her life. I didn't want to let go, the feeling of her naked body pressed against mine was exquisite. We stood there, breathing, for what seems like hours, my cock gradually softening inside her warm wet cunt, feeling her trembling against me, our sweat intermingling and our naked skin slick against one another in the hot air. Finally, as my legs started feeling as though they were about to give way, I slowly let her slip to the ground, spent and exhausted. I left her there for a moment, watching her lie naked on her stomach with her meager breasts peeking lewdly out from underneath the pathetic remnants of her gown. It was a reminder of what she tried to do to me, as well as a mark of my ownership and her servility. After I recovered, I went to fetch my horse, carrying the unconscious young woman out of the bathhouse in my arms. I placed her in the saddle, tied her down so she wouldn't fall, and then climbed up behind her, my shirt unbuttoned. The bathhouse owner ran out after us, shrieking nonsensically. I pause only long enough to grab that silly straw hat from her head and place it on the girl's, shielding her delicate face from the harsh sun but leaving the rest of her body exposed for the time being. Then I turned my horse and slowly moved out of the dusty town, the hot desert sand ahead of us...