0 comments/ 95431 views/ 5 favorites Taylor's Tailor Ch. 01 By: jay.palin My second wife recently divorced me. She just didn’t want to be my wife anymore, she said. It wasn’t that we didn’t get along. We’d traveled and socialized a lot though we’d decided against having kids, since we’re both professional people. An earlier marriage had produced all the progeny I wanted. But, not having a family with this spouse probably had been a mistake, since I’m 40 and her biological clock at age 34 most likely had been ticking inexorably toward that fail-safe, go-no go, point that seems to occur in every woman’s reproductive life. The thing that really hurt, since we were very compatible – sexual and otherwise – was that she’d gutted my business financially. She’d walked into the marriage with the princely sum of $200 in a savings account, twenty shares of over-priced stock in a private winery, and some junk furniture that was beneath the decorative taste of a college sophomore. But, I’d loved her, and had been forced to walk away after eight years, licking my wounds after her attorney garnered her $1.5 million in cash and real estate assets, mostly from my custom home design business. At least there was no alimony. I’d believed in justice before I’d experienced divorce courts and the lawyers who make their excellent livings therein. So, I bought a bachelor house twenty-five miles away, moving into a post-WW II suburban neighborhood that was beginning to turn into a haven for divorced folk. The original homeowners in the area had either died or sold to young, 30 and 40-somethings before they moved into senior centers. I was one of the new buyers, but on my street there were four others, all of them female businesspeople. Across the street there was still a family of grandparents who had a couple of grandchildren living with them, because of the questionable mating habits of their “trailer trash” daughters who were fond of recreational drugs, according to the gossipy old widow next door. The rest, as I’ve said, were women, all undeniably attractive. When I moved in, though, I didn’t fit the mold of the archetypal, horny, divorced man. The residual pain of the separation was still with me, and sex had taken a distant second or third place behind reviving my business from the financial hits it’d taken. This was a departure from my usual behavior, since I’d always been sexually active…rather anxious to push the edge of the matrimonial envelope when it came to infidelity. In any case, “dating” was not a word in my lexicon, since I bore a good bit of mistrust regarding close relationships. I had let down my guard once, just days after I moved in, when one of the disreputable daughters from across the street – the tall, blonde one – invited herself in and, after she’d snorted a line of her stash of cocaine on my glass coffee table, proceeded to blow me to a very satisfying orgasm. Since that occurrence I hadn’t seen her, though the widow next door told me that the police had picked her up one day and she was now languishing in a drug rehab center. In any case, I was settling into my new neighborhood, busy with all the details of a new arrival’s life: where to have cars repaired, have dry cleaning done, whom to get as a dental hygienist, etc. Much information on these minutiae was given me at a party thrown for me by the divorced real estate agent – Carrie – living across the street and down a ways. She lives with her brother, a divorced, retired deputy sheriff, and is built like Dolly Parton. She’d invited all the single women in the area to the party, and I felt as if I were a slab of meat on display in a butcher shop, being picked at and stroked by hungry females who could hardly repress their fascination with all aspects of my past life. I’d had some experience with this mating ritual and, though sorely tempted, escaped unscathed with my abstemious virtue intact. Nevertheless, though, Carrie and her attractive army still find legion excuses to visit me at almost any hour that I’m home. But, one can eat only so many cookies, pies, and loaves of nut bread provided by even the most comely of ladies. I’m 6’2” tall and weigh in at 200. I’m good looking, I’m told – in a WASP sort of way – and still have all my hair. But the pervasive sick feeling one has when going through a divorce has taken its toll, and I’ve lost 30 pounds over the past many months. As a result, my wardrobe hangs on me like a scarecrow. Rather than spend several grand to replace my suits, I decided to have them re-tailored to my slimmer frame. A woman at the party had provided me with the location of a dry cleaner who did alterations, so I took one of my suits along with some shirts that needed laundering. This was on a Thursday evening a little before six. The shop was empty, save for a petite, youngish Chinese woman. She had short, thick hair, obviously carefully tended by a professional, and creamy, light skin that – on this night – contrasted attractively with the all-black turtleneck sweater and pants she wore. Though she was behind the counter, I noticed that her five-foot-tall body filled her clothing nicely. Her makeup was flawless on her unlined face, with lips highlighted by a dark, almost violet, color. She wore stylish, black-framed glasses that accented her nearly black, almond-shaped eyes, which were further enhanced by pearl-colored shadow. Uncharacteristically for an Asian, diamond jewelry studded her ears, a necklace around her neck, and several rings, one jade, on her fingers. The dry-cleaning business must be good, I thought. As I looked at her, I remembered one of the greatest and perhaps the saddest loves of my life, a stunning girl from Thailand who’d died tragically. This woman’s attractive appearance belied her brusque manner, however. As is the case with so many Chinese originating outside the U.S., she addressed me a bit loudly and in a clipped, no-nonsense, way. I knew she hadn’t been born here, since her speech was what Anglos call “broken” English. “Heavy starch, yeh?” she asked. “Dry clean suit?” “Uh, no,” I corrected, “I’ve lost some weight and understand that you do alterations.” “You wan’ try on?” she questioned. I nodded, and she pointed to the back, “Dressing room back there.” I went to the little cubicle and changed into the baggy suit, emerging to almost run into her. “Had to lock front door,” she said, quickly. “After six,” she explained, as she pulled me in front of an enclosed three-way mirror to stand on a raised platform. “Mm,” she said, “need lot o’ work!” as she placed some pins in her mouth. “Take off coat. Do pants first.” I disposed of the jacket, and she turned me around to face the mirror, sticking her small hand deeply into the back of my pants. I was wearing a polo shirt with the tail out, and her fingers had plunged into my boxers as well. They felt good as one brushed the top of my crack. “Oh, sorry,” she said, giggling, the first time she’d shown any semblance of levity. She pinned the back from the waistband to down, under the seat, then said, “Turn ‘roun’.” This time she was more careful with her hands. She slowly placed them in the front and looked up, asking, “Tight enough?” then withdrew her hand to place it in my crotch, at the top of the inseam. My balls were resting on her two fingers, and she moved them slightly, softly inquiring, “You dress to right or left?” Remembering that this meant, “Which pant leg does your package normally hang down?” I responded, “Uh, to the right,” and instantly felt myself getting erect, except that my cock was in my left pant leg. “You sure?” she asked. “Yes, normally,” I said, embarrassed, as I grew larger. Barely perceptibly, she touched my growing member in my left leg with the back of her fingers and hesitated, blushing…uncharacteristic for an Asian, I thought. She then withdrew her hand and said, “Well, bettah put it there.” I did, thrusting a hand inside my pants and awkwardly pulling my cock from one leg to the other, which tented the front of my right leg since I was now fully hard. Squatting ass-on-heels, she leaned back and said, “Wait few minute. Then we pin.” “Aaah…is this your shop?” I asked, desperate to distract her attention in the palpable silence. “Yeh, I own,” she said. “All mine…no husban’,” she added, almost proudly. “Widowed?” I asked. “Huh?” she asked, not comprehending. Trying again, I asked, “Husband dead?” “No! Divorce!” she exclaimed, as though still as happy to be rid of him as she was on the first day. “Oh,” I acknowledged. “Yup…two daughter, in college,” she said. “Really!” I said, shocked that this stunning woman was about my age, at her eldest. “I only have one daughter.” “Oh, yeh? Big guy like you? Well, who need marriage, yeh?” she grinned, looking directly at me for the first time. “Where’re you from?” I asked. “Oh, Shanghai. Come here when 18…with husban’,” she confided. “Then he marry somebody else,” she almost cackled, showing some bitterness. “Judy my name. You?” “Jack Taylor. Just moved here,” I said. “Tay-luh…Tay-luh,” Judy repeated, as if committing it to memory. “Okay, Tay-luh, you ready now?” she asked, grinning again. “Mmm, yeah, I’m…okay,” I said. She touched my crotch at the inseam again and, feeling my flaccid penis in the right place, she breathed, “Ooh, yeh…you okay,” and finished her pinning of the crotch. “Okay, Tay-luh, put on coat now,” Judy directed. I did so and she began smoothing it out over my shoulders, against my chest, and down over my hips. She buttoned it and turned me around, marking and pinning the gathered material in back. “Turn…please,” she requested, which I did. “Step down.” I stepped off the platform and she stood very near me, looking up into my eyes with her breasts against me, and stroking the material across my pecs and under my arms. As close as she was, I could smell her sweet, hot breath as she spoke softly, her eyes boring into me. “You like it tight heah?” she asked, “and heah?” “Yeah…I like it tight,” I gasped, as my prick once again filled with blood. “Well, bettah take off now. All finish!” she said, backing away and riveting her glance at my crotch. She almost pushed me into the dressing cublicle. I heard her humming a tune as I changed clothes, then she asked, “When you want? I only here late Thursday.” “Next Thursday’s fine. Are you here on weekends?” I asked. “No, just daughter. Pick up shirts then?” she inquired. “Okay, Judy.” I walked to the front door, which she unlocked. “See you,” I said, “next Thursday, same time!” “Okay, Tay-luh. Oh, gimme phone numbah,” she said. She wrote it down and waved, “Bye bye!” Judy had really turned me on, I thought, as I drove home. For the first time in ages I’d gotten an erection just being near a woman. The fact that I’d always lusted after attractive Asian babes was beside the point. I wanted her. And, with 20 suits needing altering, I’d have plenty of time to scratch this ethnic itch. I couldn’t wait until Thursday. Saturday morning I dropped by Judy’s shop and was waited on by a tall, voluptuous, twenty-ish, Chinese girl who obviously had been American born. “Are you Judy’s daughter?” I asked. “Why yes,” she responded pleasantly, deepening her facial dimples as she smiled. “Do you know my Mom?” she asked, casting her long, raven hair back over one shoulder with a raking hand. “Well, yeah. She owns the shop, right?” I said. “Yes, but so few customers know her name. She generally is very aloof…by design,” she stated candidly, giving me an appraising look. “We met just recently,” I confessed. “If you see her, tell her I said hi. Jack Taylor’s the name.” “Of course I will, Mr. Taylor. I’ll see her tonight. I stay with her on weekends. During the week I live off-campus,” she said, quite openly. “Mmm, my office is near the campus. What’s your name?” I asked, as another customer walked in. “Call me Amber,” she purred, smiling to display a stunning array of white teeth. “Okay, Amber. See you,” I said, walking out as she followed me with her eyes. Her mother certainly had bestowed some remarkable genes on this young creature, I mused. **************** Thursday evening I was at Judy’s shop with another suit. It was about 6:10 and, after a departing customer had left, she locked the door. “Hi, Tay-luh!” she beamed. “I finish you suit!” “Super!” I exulted. “Let’s try it on!” I said, as I followed her into the back. “Heah you go,” she said, handing me the altered garments. “I clean for you, too!” she confessed. Mmm, first class treatment, I thought, as I changed in the dressing cubicle. I heard her humming a tune again, then she asked from the other side of the curtain, “You know Dim Sum? You like eat?” “I love Dim Sum!” I stated, truthfully. “I heat for you,” she gasped, walking away as I emerged dressed in the suit. I’d worn a shirt and tie to see what the whole outfit would look like. It fit perfectly. Judy came from where she’d microwaved a steaming plate of one of my favorite Chinese snacks. Tasting one, I said, “Mmmmm,” then smacked my lips, reaching for another Dim Sum. “You like? I make!” she said, proudly. Then she stepped back to look at me. “Delicious!” I said. “You having some?” She shook her head, “I eat already,” regarding my clothing carefully, then said, “Oooh, Tay-luh, you look good,” making the last word sound like three syllables. Then she turned me bodily to look in the three-way mirror, her tiny form over a foot shorter than mine. “See how it fit heah…and heah…and heah!” she said, moving her hands softly all over my upper body. “Pants okay?” she asked, pulling off my coat and stroking my butt well into the crotch. “Okay heah?” she breathed softly, moving her hands across my front below the belt line and down my right leg. “Mmm, yeh. Good fit!” This night Judy was clothed in a pearl gray crewneck sweater and tight gray wool pants, with her little round butt filling out the trousers in a delectable fashion. Then, noticing, she exclaimed, “Oh! You bring other suit! Wan’ try on?” “Sure, Judy. I’ve finally found a good tailor…and a beautiful one, too!” I flirted, as I stepped into the cubicle to change. Pushing my luck, this time I left the curtain halfway open. “Uh, can you give me another Dim Sum?” I asked. Judy reached into the half open curtain with one in her dainty, manicured fingers – her slim, milky, hairless wrist ringed by three thin gold bracelets – and I engulfed the morsel by taking both of her fingers into my mouth to the ends and slowly sliding my lips off of them. I heard her gasp behind the curtain, “Oh, Tay-luh…”. The sound of her voice was in such sensuous contrast to her normal clipped tone that I felt pulses in my groin as I was putting on my pants. Then she said, “My daughter, Am-buh, say she meet you Saturday. She say you very nice!” “I found her very charming, and very sexy, too…just like her mother!” I pushed, hoping for a telling response as I emerged to step in front of the mirrors. “Oh, Tay-luh, you bad! You say that to all women,” she giggled, grabbing my hand. “Not need step today,” she said, keeping me from stepping on the platform. “This good height. Pull out shirt please,” she said, as she yanked out my shirttail. “Turn,” she said, repeating the process of the week before. Then she stuck her fingers down past the waistband in back, holding up my shirt and pulling out the pants – and my boxers – so that I felt cool air on my ass. “Mmm, lotta’ room here,” she murmured, and stuck her hand down into the gap, palm first! Her soft fingers stroked my cheeks up the crack, with one of them brushing past my rectum. I turned my head around to see her withdrawing that finger from her face – having smelled or licked it – to which she reacted: “Need take pants more in back here!” and, kneeling, started marking and pinning them down to the crotch. I was getting hard again – daydreaming about this yummy Oriental doll – and, as luck would have it, my erection was forming in my left pant leg! I turned around at her request and she asked, knowingly, “Dress to right, yeh?” I nodded as she reached for my crotch to discover I was growing visibly in the left leg. “Well…Tay-luh…” she said as she looked up at me, her eyes softening. Neither of us spoke for several seconds as we probed one another’s eyes. “You…do…it,” I ventured, breathing heavily. She hesitated, looked up at me – the only sound in the room being my breathing – and whispered, “Okay…Tay-luh.” She reached slowly for my zipper and drew it down. I noticed her chest rising and falling rapidly and now heard her breath passing quickly from her mouth as she nervously licked her lips. At the first touch of her hand on me I moaned, and she did too, echoing my rising excitement. Very daintily, and with extreme gentleness, she pulled my near-erect dick out of my fly and moaned again, saying something in Cantonese, though I distinctly heard the word mang. From my brief tour with an intelligence agency in Asia, I remembered that this means “snake.” She canted her head to one side, as if to study it more closely, then began to slowly caress me from my fly out over my circumcised glans. She mewled in her throat as the cock grew larger in her grasp, and exhaled “Nnggah!” when I unbuttoned my trousers and they pooled to the floor. She then peeled my boxers down and I was there for her in all my glory, pulsing as each heartbeat caused the head to expand and contract in direct challenge to her mouth. “Oh, Tay-luh…oh…you have big mang!” she marveled, twisting her tiny hand around me and sliding it to and fro with a languorous motion. Judy scooted toward me on the carpeted floor, humming in her throat, then looked up at me and took off her glasses, laying them beside her. She looked no older than her daughter! I thought lustily, as I flicked my hips forward once or twice. Not breaking eye contact with me, she then stuck out her tongue to lave me agonizingly slowly around the corona. I was amazed at the length of her tongue, and its muscularity, as she circled it continuously around my angry, red knob. Then, moaning, she eased her mouth onto me and closed her almond eyes. She pushed her mouth toward my pelvis until I struck the top of her throat. She then opened her eyes and, concentrating and breathing deeply, opened her gullet to gradually take me in. She pulled off again and took a very deep breath, then pushed onto me until her small nose was buried in my pubic hair. I was astounded. I’d not been fellated like this since…since…I’d forgotten, but my selective memory told me it was with an Asian woman, somewhere in the depths of the Bangkok red light district. Judy then set up a regular rhythm, pulling out so that her lips grazed the head, then pushing back on with her jaw hideously distended to engulf my eight inch prong. I had to taste this wanton little woman. Pulling her to her feet, which broke her oral grasp on my dick, I kissed her sweet mouth, breathing in her flowery vapors, and her long tongue probed me as she moaned deeply in her throat. Leaning back and gasping, she uttered, “Ohhh, Tay-luhhh. Got to turn off light!” and grabbed her glasses to disappear somewhere and plunge the shop into near darkness. The only visibility was provided by a large, red, flashing neon sign that said “Shirts Laundered - $1.00.” Judy was back in a flash, and once again grabbed for my cock. She released it as I pulled off her sweater – relinquished over upraised arms – and unzipped her pants in back, sliding them to the floor. The exquisite, buttery skin on her small, perfect body alternately shone a milky pink and ivory white as the red light flashed on and off, as I appraised her luscious form with my eyes and hands. She’d removed her glasses again and unfastened her black bra in back, which released her round breasts to my admiring gaze; about 32-B, I thought. For a woman my age who’d had two kids, her tits were stunning, with very little sag. I pulled her to me and her dark, protruding nipples dimpled my body just below the pecs. I peeled her black, lacey panties down over her curvy thighs and marveled at the satiny feel of her smoothly muscled calves that ended in archetypal small ankles and feet. Taylor's Tailor Ch. 01 Helping her doff her shoes and step out of her pants, I smelled her arousal. While on my knees, I pushed my face into her muff and snaked my tongue between her labia, gathering the first thick, creamy effusions that now soaked her lips. “Aaaa-uuunhh,” she exhaled, grabbing my head and thrusting her pelvis forward to open herself to my marauding tongue. As I sucked at her opening, she began hunching her hips to and fro, rubbing my nose against her prominent clit, which had grown to the size of a blueberry. She was now moaning ceaselessly, interspersing her sounds with exhortations in two languages, “Aaah…aaah…aaah…oooh…eee-tiiii…aaah…eee…tiii… Tay-luh, oooh, you…so…good.” I then spied an armless, plastic-covered chair and broke from her, pulling her after me as I sat. With some effort, I placed her compliant little body in a reverse position to mine, with her thighs on my shoulders and hands braced on my knees. In this modified “69” position she was able to lower her head to my cock and I could feast between her widespread legs. Our respective mouths locked onto one another’s organs as we began an undulating, writhing trek toward an orgasmic goal. Judy’s juices were copious, flowing freely from her swollen slit to run down my chin as I tongued at her clit. At the same time, she was throating me completely, moaning as she did so, and slobbering freely on my length so that her saliva ran down my balls to drip off the seat to the floor. I supped at her cunt gratefully, thanking my good fortune for having met such a desirable creature after so many months of relative abstinence. She flooded my mouth, causing me to swallow gobs of her thick, odorous cream as I gaspingly lapped alternately at her flowery cunt, then her pulsating nubbin. She tasted of tangy sweat and mucous, coupled with a hint of jasmine and a soupcon of pepper. She’s a true Asian goddess, I mused, as I tried to link my large hands around her impossibly small waist; about 22”, I reckoned. Then, for variety, I tasted her rectum, probing deeply past her sphincter with my stiff tongue, which caused her hips to tremble. Her tart anus was in savory contrast to her oozing gash and I vowed at that moment to revisit it later. But now we were both lost in our ascent to orgasm. Our smooth gyrations – pushing, pulling, sucking, licking – drove us both to a groaning pinnacle as our muffled cries rose to a ceaseless, agonized cacophony. As I climaxed, Judy withdrew my cock from her throat to vacuum just the first two or three inches with her mouth, swallowing what seemed to me to be quarts of accumulated cum. Just then she peaked, and her gorgeous little round ass froze as she grunted continuously with her mouth full, then spasmed a dozen times – while gulping – as she rammed her clit quiveringly against my chin. It took minutes for us to recover, as we clutched one another, milking the last of the fluids from our thankful bodies. I knew Judy was uncomfortable, since she’d spent many minutes upside down. Easing her off me, I sat her on me, straddled, and she lovingly kissed me and licked her juices from my soaking moustache and face. “Ooooh…you good, Tay-luh. I don’ do this for lotta’ year! Wan’ do some more?” she asked, brightly. “You bet!” I responded enthusiastically. “Just give me a few minutes.” “Okay. I fix!” she said, and dropped to her knees between my legs to once again lick lovingly at my cock as she mewled happily in her throat. It didn’t take long. Her gorgeous Asian face captivated me as her mouth gradually stretched open to accommodate the growing girth of my prick. Once I was erect, she stood up and opened amazingly wide to throat me again, hardly touching my shaft with her lips, but plunging her open throat down over my glans, massaging its sensitive nerves as would a python with unhinged jaws. Satisfied that she’d done well, she pulled off and said, “Judy fuck you now!” and, touching her open inner lips with my pulsing cock head, began to squat slowly down its thick length. “Aaaieee…you…so…big…Tay-luh,” she gasped, haltingly, as she impaled herself. “Aaaii…you…great…big…man!” she said again, after raising up and again sliding down slowly until I touched her cervix. “You…wait. I…fix,” she murmured, as she began quick squatting and raising motions that made “slishing” sounds as her pussy engulfed and released my rod. As she did this, her hot nectar began to soak my pubes and flow down over my balls. Finally, her cervix began to give under short thrusts until I felt its sphincter enveloping my glans. “Uhhh…yeh…yeh…yeh,” she said, dropping down onto me further each time she bounced. When she’d taken all of me to my balls, she stopped and exhaled, opening her eyes until they were almost round, and breathed her cum-tinged breath at me to say, “You way inside, Tay-luh. Easy…please,” making the last word sound like “preeeez.” She then hugged me closely, burying her tongue in my mouth, and moving her hips forward and backward on my anchoring cock, avoiding any up and down movement. This allowed me to concentrate on her little nipples, which stood out from her breasts like two small corks. I also had free access to her clit, which now protruded through the straight, black hair of her bush. Just holding my thumb on it, I allowed Judy to regulate contact as she thrashed back and forth with growing rapidity. “Ooooh…Tay-luh. It good…so…good…Tay…luh…it…it…oooh…,” she said, as she began up and down thrusts. Judy’s climb to orgasm had already started. Her vagina began clutching at me, as if trying to pull me even deeper into her womb. Then she began literally scores of involuntary spasms, which milked the entire shaft of my cock as she pounded ruthlessly on me. Her little, high voice was now uttering peals of joy, just sounds unburdened by thought, as she continued her machine-like internal vibrations. I held her little frame closely as she plunged toward her second orgasm of the night, grinding her stiff nipples into the sparse hair on my pecs as she screamed out her climax: “Oh! Oh! Aaaaaaghhh…aaaaaaghhh…aaaaaaghhh…aaaaaaghhh.” Then she collapsed in my arms. After minutes of nuzzling, Judy rose unsteadily and stretched, first her arms behind her head, then sideways at her waist, touching the floor on each side with either hand. She then turned her back to me and leaned forward to touch the floor with both hands, revealing her moist, open pussy, juice-coated upper thighs, and beckoning asshole. I hadn’t cum with our coupling, and my erection had flagged a bit, but glimpsing her little brown anus now stirred me. She looked at me between her legs as she was bent over, stretching out her spine, and said, cloyingly, “Mmm, you like, Tay-luh?” I somehow knew what she’d say next and, sure enough, it was, “I fix!” as she rose and positioned herself on her knees in front of me. “You good to me. I be good to you,” she said softly, raising my cock and licking my bared balls. Pushing apart my legs, she then stuck her long tongue behind my scrotum and lavished slow, wet licks along my taint, sending shards of electricity through me. Then, as if measuring me for pants, she murmured, “Turn.” I did, and she spread my cheeks to use that blessed, slightly rough tongue to lick my rectum, soaking it lightly with her sweet saliva until my knees trembled with unreleased tension. “Come, Tay-luh,” she said, rising and walking to the back of the shop where there were two steam presses for clothing, one for a standing operator, another for one sitting. She placed her knees, spread widely apart, on the lower press and looked back at me over her shoulder. “You wan’ Judy now?” she questioned, with a delightful innocence. I growled and went to her, my hand already poising my cock to plunge into her. I started with her pussy, still sopping from our earlier session, and pushed into her with ease, at which she expelled a satisfied groan. I stirred her wantonly in this position and drew forth new streams of her hot juices, withdrawing to coat with them her little puckered asterisk which now flexed, visibly winking at me. Then I inserted my cock head into it, which was absorbed quite easily, drawing a deep, feral groan from her mouth. “Oooh…Taaay-luuuh…been…too…long…time,” she moaned, pushing back onto me and slowly absorbing me deeply into her colon. Momentarily, I longed for some sort of oil – whatever – to ease our fusing, but soon found that her bowels provided a natural lubricity. Then, I placed my hands around her waist and we slowly launched into an undulating canine dance which gathered momentum as we progressed. Judy was grunting appreciatively with each thrust, and had moved a hand to her clit to heighten her pleasure. She began to thrash her head from side to side, exhorting me to bang her ass harder: “Yeh…Tay-luh…get…me…hard…hard!… ooh…yeh!…yeh!…ooh…ooh…yeh! …mmm, yeh!…Tay…oh…Tay…oh…oh!…oh!” she rasped as her hand now flew over her clit, causing audible smacks from her swollen, wet lips. I moved my hands from her waist to grasp her creamy buttocks roughly, kneading the soft, pliant flesh deeply with groping fingers, and began slapping my loins noisily against her upturned cheeks in time with her grunts. Our orgasms were simultaneous. I yelled, “Aaagggh,” as the first gush of hot jizzum blasted into her bowels, to which she screamed my name loudly and began flailing her buttocks in as many directions as there are points on a compass. I rode her like a cowboy taming an unbroken young filly, goring her obscenely with each of her encouraging shouts. And, I filled her until she relaxed, whimpering, as my cock continued its rhythmic pulsating, pumping the last of my cum into her dark hole. Finished, her head lay relaxed on the soft pad of the press and she reached back to grasp my hand, moaning disappointedly as I pulled my cock out of her ass with a ssslpp. “You stuff hot, Tay-luh. Look,” she said while holding my hand, and she flexed her asshole, tensing and expelling from her anus streams of my cum to drip on the press. The red, inner skin of her colon pushed out through her rectum obscenely, two or three times, to rid her of the spunk as it coursed down her thighs. She watched me look at this lascivious display and as I glanced at her peaceful face, she giggled softly. It was after eight as we dressed. Judy looked frazzled – “fucked,” I suppose – yet was remarkably talkative. She explained that the scar on her lower abdomen was from a hysterectomy, done years before. I was anxious to reflect on this and what had occurred in the past two hours, alone, at home. As she straightened herself up, brushing her hair and applying makeup in the mirror, she said, “My Am-buh say you be good. She say long time I need man fren’!” I stiffened, wondering what sort of report I’d get over the weekend when her daughter, Amber, returned from school. “What’s she studying?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation to an asexual subject. “Math. Want to be engineer!” she said, proudly. “Wow,” I said. “I think she’d make a great Miss America!” Judy read between the lines – stopped making herself up – and looked at me in the mirror, saying, “She my daughter, Tay-luh. You watch out!” “Relax, Judy, she’s half my age!” I said defensively. “No mattuh! She hot girl! You my fren’!” she cautioned, sounding quite possessive all of a sudden. I said nothing, lacing up my shoes, and she changed her tune. “I good tailor, yeh? Tell you what! I do suit tomorrow and bring to you house! Really good tailor make house call! Saturday okay?” I said, “Okay, I guess,” feeling a bit pressured because of the new neighbor women constantly dropping by on weekends. Nevertheless, I did want to get this little number onto my capacious bed. I gave her a card, on which I wrote my home address and number. At the door Judy let me out and said, “See you Saturday! An’ maybe I call you Jack now, okay?” The character of Jack Taylor is the protagonist in the “Deirdre’s Downfall” series, narrated by Deirdre herself, which you may want to read. Regardless, please send feedback on this chapter and don’t forget to vote! Taylor's Tailor Ch. 02 Read “Taylor’s Tailor, Chapter 1” for an intro. And, for a totally different look at Taylor’s exploits, read the “Deirdre’s Downfall” chapters. Just click on my name and go to the link. Feedback and votes are much appreciated. After months of sexual abstinence following my divorce, buying a house in a new locale, and settling in, it appears that my self-imposed solitary life is changing for the better. My 40-year-old libido has been awakened by – of all people – my tailor, Judy, a gorgeous, petite, foreign-born Chinese woman who owns a dry cleaning shop. She’s a divorcee and mother of two grown daughters who, apparently, has forsaken men since splitting up with her husband. Not entirely by accident, a couple of nights ago we enjoyed one another in a passionate love-making session that ended my monk-like existence, leaving me pleasantly drained. And, with my ego strengthened from that experience, just yesterday I met the stunning, married, Italian-American manager of my new dentist’s office – Deirdre, or Dee Dee, as I call her – who responded very positively to my earnest flirting. I hadn’t openly pursued a woman in years! But this Dee Dee is so hot! I’ll be seeing her for my next dental appointment next Friday. But that’s another story. Let me explain my enthusiasm. I met Judy, the 40-ish tailor who looks more like 20, over a week ago when I took a suit into her dry cleaning shop for altering. I’d lost 30 pounds during my drawn-out divorce and have 20 suits that need refitting. That could mean many weeks of sexual bonuses! Apologies for my arrogance. I sound like a hormone-driven college kid. But, for a guy who was about to check into a monastery, I’m sure it’s easy to understand my upbeat mood! Judy confessed that she hadn’t had a man in a long time. She stated that one of her daughters, Amber – a 20-year-old college student whom I met on another day – had encouraged her for years to develop a romantic social life. Amber is another dreamy item. Fairly tall, about 5’7”, with a physique like the actress Kelly Wu, plus facial dimples, the young woman has a presence and voice that could make strong men weep. A beautiful Asian girl with dimples and a chin cleft! If only I were 150 years younger…or even just 15 years younger. I should mention that I’m overeducated for what I do for a living: owning a home design business. I’ve traveled quite a bit, and – out of grad school – did a stint with an intelligence agency in Asia before settling into a career. In that shadowy line of work I was not the most compliant of field operatives. I fell in love with Noianh – a Thai woman resembling a goddess – and soon understood that “intelligence” doesn’t mix well with romance. The relationship ended tragically with her death. I’ll probably never know if I in any way caused it. What my tenure in Asia did develop, though, was a respect for and fascination with its people. Inscrutable as Asians may seem to the European mind, their native intelligence and pragmatic sophistication dwarf the human attributes that Anglos deem admirable. Judy showed such sophistication immediately. She obviously had enjoyed our carnal coupling in her shop and, with charming candor, had offered to tailor one of my ill-fitting suits and deliver it to my home two days later on the weekend. Such remarkable service was not to be taken lightly. Conscious that I might offend her if I refused the generous offer, I naturally agreed. Of course, we both knew that we’d merely sampled one another on Thursday night. I, for one, was looking forward to further indulging my hunger for her luscious flesh on Saturday, a day when her daughter Amber filled in for her at the dry cleaning establishment. One of my ongoing upgrading projects at the new house is landscaping the back yard. So, on Saturday I was up early, pulling out very old rosebushes and such that I wanted to replace with new, more natural greenery. At about eleven I heard the doorbell ring and, answering the door, welcomed Judy into my new abode. Of course, she’d brought the altered suit, but also had to make a second trip to her car for a lunch she’d made: a ginger shrimp dish and vegetables. She’d taken no chances, since I was Caucasian, and also had brought her favorite tea, rice which she’d later cook for us, and chopsticks. I think she was pleasantly surprised that I had chopsticks of my own, as well as a variety of bottled Asian sauces and more than one type of rice. I conducted her on a tour of the house after she made tea, and she was impressed with its neatness, though my spartan, Mission-style and leather furniture is not necessarily consonant with typical Chinese taste. “You real neat guy, Tay-luh!” she said approvingly. Judy wore simple clothing, which flattered her diminutive form. Her five-foot tall, 32B-22-34 frame was poured into black cotton pants and a short-sleeved, green, violet, and cream blouse with a high Chinese collar. The blouse had a keyhole opening that showed the tops of her buttery breasts. Apparently she was pleased with my reaction to the way she looked, since she’d smiled knowingly as she saw my eyes linger on the slopes of her creamy globes when arriving. She wasn’t wearing her attractive glasses, though when I looked closely at her black, slanted eyes, I noticed contact lenses. As usual, her jewelry was a bit overdone for my taste – with large diamond studs piercing her ears and fingers banded with several rings – possibly illustrating her desire to display the fruits of her business success, unburdened by a husband. On her feet were characteristic Asian flip-flops, yet one of her smooth, shapely ankles was encircled by a large-linked, gold anklet with a Chinese character hanging from it. Her finger and toenails were done in a violet polish. I showed her what I’d been doing earlier in the backyard, and apologized for my soiled jeans, tee shirt, and smelly body. “You okay, Tay-luh,” she said, passing her nose close to my chest. “Smell like man!” she said, giggling softly. “You wan’ try on tai-luh suit now?” she asked. “Maybe I should shower first?” I asked. She said, “No!” vigorously shaking her head, as I took the suit into my bedroom to slip it on. I was mildly surprised that she followed me. As I sat on a chair to pull off my boots, Judy glided to my king-sized bed and placed a knee on it, settling comfortably down to lean sideways on one bracing hand. She looked at me and asked, “Okay I watch?” “Uhh, yeah.” I said, musing privately that this was the first woman I’d had in my bedroom since moving in. I also knew that the old rules had changed between Whites and Asians. Here was an extremely attractive, foreign-born woman who – even in my lifetime – typically would have been in a White man’s room solely to service his appetites. As in a Joseph Conrad novel, she might hope for a few dollars, pounds or francs for her aging parents and multitude of siblings, as the White man filled her body, feeling an ambivalent combination of guilt and payment for racist, colonial sins visited upon her almond-eyed people. Regardless, Judy could probably buy and sell me at this point. She might even suffer from some deep, socio-psychological perversion, but nevertheless she was here because she wanted to be, not because she had to be. I hadn’t in any way – at least to my perception – urged her into my inner sanctum, my bedroom. As I peeled off my tee to replace it with a long-sleeved shirt with a collar, her eyes pored over my chest and shoulders, my torso being one of my better features. “You look good, Tay-luh,” she breathed quietly. I dropped my jeans and my flaccid prick stuck through the fly of my boxers, inviting her glance. I tucked it in quickly, and slipped on the newly- tailored trousers, buttoning and zipping them quickly. “You wait. Get pins for nex’ suit,” she said, and went to the living room, returning with her purse, from which she extracted a box of pins and tailor’s chalk. The suit that I’d put on, the one she’d altered the previous day, fit perfectly. “Now, othuh suit,” she said, opening my closet and cooing, “Very nice!” as she stroked the material of several of my garments. She stripped me of the one I’d tried on – carefully hanging it up – and selected a wool, charcoal pinstriped number…another of my favorites that needed tailoring. I walked clear of the bed and she murmured, “I do wi’out mirror,” as she knelt and her small, expert hands smoothed the material against my butt, which she marked and pinned. In front, she pointedly rubbed my crotch gently to drape the material as she wished, and whispered, “You dress to right today,” her eyes flashing up at me as she exhaled and caressed the rising dick in my right pant leg. Handing me a pair of loafers that I’d slid under the bed, she said, “Put on shoes. Check length.” That finished, we did the coat. Judy rose to smooth the coat across my back, mark and pin the gaps. She then moved to the front, checked the drape and – pushing me to look in the dresser mirror – asked, “Look okay?” I nodded, and she looked up at me with soft eyes, “Okay…I finish.” Jeezus, I was almost finished, too! My cock was throbbing as this little doll reached one small hand around the back of my neck and pulled my head down to her face. Even though she was on tiptoe, I was uncomfortable, yet we found a way. I cupped my hands under her ass and easily lifted her up, placing her, kneeling, on my high bed. Her long tongue probed me all the way to the back of my mouth, spreading her sweet, gingery taste on my gums, and she moaned languorously as our hands sought still unfamiliar places on one another’s bodies. I caressed her breasts and started to unbutton her blouse and she pulled back, saying, “No, I watch you!” I disrobed and her eyes missed nothing, taking first the pinned coat, then the pants, from me and draping them over the back of a chair. I doffed my shirt and stood before her only in my boxers, stretched and tented in one leg by my erection, with the red glans sticking out below. She reached out, lifting her head to point her chin toward my shorts, and wiggled her fingers, beckoning me to give them to her. I dropped them and handed them to her, and she held them to her nose, breathing in the sweaty, male odors I’d expelled during the morning’s garden labors. She then pointed for me to sit on a small loveseat not far from the bed. She began to undress…so slowly as to cause pains in my subconscious as well as my groin. Her long lashes hid her eyes as she looked down at what her hands were doing: peeling the top of her pants over her hips, first one, then the other. When on the floor, she slowly lifted first one foot, then the other, out of each pant leg and – with a toss of her foot – sailed the pants gently to land on a chair. A pair of lacy, black bikini panties now covered her lovely treasure. In slow motion she looked at my erect cock, which I grasped and slowly wanked from base to tip. She unbuttoned her blouse with feathery touches, releasing each closure in slow motion as her curved, buttery thighs formed a delightful diversion by rubbing softly against each other, stimulating in me a faster stroking of my prick. Doffing her blouse, she tossed it on her pants and turned her back to me, reaching around to unclasp her matching black bra, which she shrugged off, letting it hang from one finger to the floor. In the soft bedroom light she looked over her shoulder at me, now engaged in slow masturbation, and tossed the bra onto the chair. She then eased her panties off – gradually, one leg at a time – to pool on the floor, just as she’d done with her pants. She then turned slowly, looking at me the whole time and, licking one finger, rubbed the saliva onto each nipple of her upturned breasts, prodding both of them to magnificent, brown erections. Her black eyes burned into me as she approached slowly, sliding her creamy body to the floor between my spread knees like a diaphanous silken drapery disturbed by the wind. “I lick you, Tay-luh. You wan’ Judy lick you?” she asked, her eyes growing almost round as she wantonly posed the question. “Ohh-ho-ho-yeah, baby!” I exhaled, my halting breathing revealing the nervous tension accumulated during her sublime disrobing. “Okay,” she breathed, barely audibly, as her small mouth opened, first to breathe heat on my enraged knob, then briefly to close her full, darkly colored lips around it and engulf it with her wet oral tissue. Then she stretched upward, lifting each of my arms, and slowly licked the sweaty hair in my armpits, mewling as she smacked her lips. Her velvety, sucking mouth moved over my chest, nibbling and licking, which drew gasps from me and sent flashes of pulsing heat to my groin. She moved slowly down my belly, combing my pubes with her teeth, licking around the base of my cock, then holding each of my balls in her soaking, soft and warm mouth. Satisfied that she’d cleaned them properly, she swallowed and spread my legs further apart, encouraging me to lift them, to lick at my taint – laving it up and down – which caused me to groan and my cock to twitch sympathetically. Judy then looked up at me and very slowly rose to place her right knee on the outside of my left thigh, and the foot on the other leg outside of my right, effectively splaying her hot, flowery cunt. I reached down automatically to guide myself into her but she pushed my hand away gently, which brushed her labia, coating my fingers with a thick, hot deposit from her vagina. She then stirred my glans around in her gaping petals, which made slick, smacking sounds as she teased both of us. Before I licked my fingers clean, I noticed that her effusions were not liquid, but consisted of globules resembling a custard-like substance – almost a paste – rich and of a very pale cream color. After I’d swallowed these morsels she kissed me and our tongues exchanged our combined tastes, as if sharing an especially good crème brulee. Judy then decided to cease her sweet torture and, looking at me with her black eyes drawn into slits and breathing her bedroom odors into me, very slowly eased her hot pussy down my length until I touched her cervix. So slow was her pace that it took only a few languorous up and down pushes for my cock to enter her womb. She exhaled slowly as she planted herself on me to my scrotum, stirring herself in a circle a few times to seat me completely within her. She then began an agonizingly slow rhythm of vertical movements, each cycle taking 15 to 20 seconds, as she levered herself on and off of me, groaning deeply in her throat. As she maintained this controlled pilgrimage to ecstasy, her tongue slipped noisily between my lips, seeking with anxious curiosity those parts of my mouth and throat that she’d not yet tasted, all the while panting into me the sweet, mysterious internal vapors from her lungs. After a while Judy placed her elevated knee on the loveseat, which made it easier to exercise full strokes onto my prick. Her pace increased its tempo gradually, until finally she was bouncing fully onto me, and her girlish cries began punctuating a rising wail as she ground her clit against my lower belly on each upstroke. “Oooh…Tay…luh…oooh…Tay…luh…oooh…Tay-luh,” she canted, drawing forth more lubricating juices and driving herself upward toward climax. I’d somehow gone beyond the pale of orgasm – at least at this moment – and had become very clinical, observing this gorgeous creature as she crossed over from being a torturous temptress to a lusty, mature female animal questing for her physical pinnacle. I palmed her tender breasts and lightly pinched her nipples, watching her divine face and listening to her voice communicate her rise to a climactic zenith. Her eyes were closed, and her jaw became slack, as her brows knitted upward in a worried look. Her breath wheezed past her open lips, causing her to moisten them periodically with her tongue, and her mewls changed to a long, drawn-out whine. Her small hands went to my sweat-slickened shoulders and she began digging her nails into them, alternately sliding down to my upper arms and grasping them frantically as her journey continued to its apogee. I was going to wait, I thought, somewhat calculatingly. I wanted this to be one of Judy’s better experiences. And it appeared that it was. She froze for a fraction of a second, then began plunging – very hard – onto me, as she screamed out her joy. She shrieked a seemingly endless cry redolent of a normally peaceful bird, screeching its death throes as it succumbed to a methodical disembowelment inflicted by a much larger predator. “Nnnngaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” she shouted, clutching me with both arms about my neck and drooling copiously on my shoulder, as she twitched and quivered the last of her rapture. Finished for the moment and limp, she murmured into my ear, “Ooooooh…Tay…luh…you…so…good…I…die!” and cradled her head in the crook of my neck. “You, too, baby,” I muttered, not finding the proper words. “You’re one fantastic boink!” I said, immediately sorry for sounding so rough. A moment passed and Judy asked, “Boink? What is…?” “It means you’re a fantastic fuck!” I whispered into her ear, kissing its softness. She giggled loudly, saying, “Oh, Tay-luh, you so bad! Why you not say fuck? I say all time! Even Am-buh say ‘fuck’!” God, I’ll just bet she does, I thought to myself, creating a carnal image of her daughter in my mind. “Mmm, Tay-luh?” Judy asked softly, “Why you not…uhh…” “Why didn’t I cum?” I asked, providing the word. “Yeh,” she said. “Why you not cum?” “I wanted to save some for later, Judy,” I confessed. “Now okay, Tay-luh,” she cooed, smiling and kissing me softly. “You wan’ more…boink?” Chuckling, I said, “Yeah, sweet one, let’s boink a little more,” as I lifted her off me and placed her on the bed. She scooted upward, raised one luscious leg slightly – bending it at its flawless knee as her black bush and tan pussy glistened with juices – and leaned back on her elbows. Looking at my cock, now drooping slightly, Judy gathered four large pillows about her and said, “Mmmm, Tay-luh…gimme you big mang. I want now!” She then placed two pillows under her little round bottom and, smiling, beckoned me toward her with two upraised arms. I became instantly erect and moved quickly toward her welcoming cunt, stirring my cock head below her glistening wet, straight-haired batch, and pushed into her, causing her to smile with eyes closed and expel a pleasured gasp of air from her lungs. “MmmmMMM! Tay-luh!…You boink hard now!” she encouraged in a low, feminine growl as she spread her legs flat and perpendicular to her body. As her butt was elevated on the thick pillows, the height of her wet opening was perfect for me, and I grasped her hips firmly in my large hands to drill her rapidly to full depth. She placed her small hands on my thighs as I knelt on my knees, driving into her, and her head moved slowly from one side to the other, all the while her face bore a peaceful smile, as she issued quiet, encouraging cries. “Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!” she grunted softly, then licked her lips, continuing to utter peals, and – with one flicking hand massaging her clit – once again started a rise to orgasm. Her chin rose toward me as her head turned upward, showing her straining neck. The jugular feeding her brain shone blue-green under her creamy skin, and she began a quiet…a quiet yipping…sounding like a little puppy being either pleasured or disciplined. “Mmn! Mmn! Mmn! Mmn! Mmn!,” she mouthed, lost again in an upward climb to her peak. I didn’t relent. I gored her until I thought the small of my back would unhinge. Then, I felt myself quickly wanting to cum. I think I doubled my speed as I banged into Judy, until the slapping skin on my loins stung from the repeated impact with her receptive, ivory saddle. And suddenly…I was cumming, growling out my release like some long-captive beast whose manacling restraints had been released. And Judy was cumming as well, grinding her milking pussy onto my shaft as it sucked from me what seemed like months of accumulated spunk. I fell onto her and, as she climaxed, her nails raked my back so deeply that she may have broken the skin, though at that moment I couldn’t have cared. My stomach muscles continued to flex, driving me into her softness, long after I’d expelled my load. Taylor's Tailor Ch. 02 As our bodies cooled and replenished their depleted oxygen, Judy looked at me through slitted eyes and gasped her sweet breath onto my sweating face, “You da bes’ Tay-luh.” And, she reached down to scoop a dollop of my seed from her pussy, then tasted it, saying, “Tas’ good! Numbah one!” So are you, little one, I thought. So are you. After a few minutes we rose, and she stretched her tantalizing body as she’d done Thursday, displaying its scale-model curves for me. She then asked for a robe, which I provided: a blue and white Japanese sleeping robe that did much justice to her petite form. She then bounded out of the bedroom, giggling, and said, “I fix lunch now!” I threw on a pair of shorts and joined her in the kitchen, to talk together as she prepared the food she’d brought. I asked her what the gold Chinese character on her anklet meant and she responded: “Good Fortune! It work, too! I meet you!” Detouring around this flattery, I learned that she belonged to the Chinese Christian Church in town, the spiritual and social center for the suburb’s large Chinese community. In fact, she was attending a party there that evening. I envisioned a sizable group of aging Asian women congregated at numerous Mah Jong tables, exchanging lurid gossip about their friends and cackling as they shuffled and slammed down the ivory tiles. The men, probably, would be playing cards – pai gow and poker – and drinking whiskey beverages sweetened with lime mixer. Judy then said, “Church have cah wash tomorrow. Money go to camp foah kids. Chinese guy own gas station an’ we use it. You bring cah for clean? Am-buh and me be there!” I made a point to take both my car and pickup in for cleaning. We ate her superb lunch – ginger shrimp and sauced vegetables with rice – and I drank a couple of Tsingtao Chinese beers while she had tea. Finishing, we placed the dishes in the washer and Judy said, “I go shop latuh. Give Am-buh break. Now, I wan’…,” and she came to me and sat her little body on one of my knees. She smiled, giggled softly, and whispered in my ear, “You wan’…boink?” I did “want,” and we did “boink,” which included some fantastic anal fucking, something that apparently was as much a part of Judy’s sexual repertoire as a simple kiss. Her skill in that regard gave new meaning to the clinical term, “competent internal musculature.” Other than a massage with hands, never had I been so thoroughly drained by a woman’s nether aperture. Before she left for her shop that afternoon, she took the pinned suit and some of my shirts to be laundered. I told her to say hi to Amber for me and at the door we embraced, with her whispering softly, “See you tomorrow…at cah wash…East and 6th Street…lunch time…okay?” **************** The next morning I spent more time landscaping, then took a shower. Though Judy had experienced my sweaty odors, I didn’t want to offend Amber, as she’d also be working at the church benefit. I threw on a polo shirt and pair of shorts and drove the Mercedes to the car wash first. I was met by Judy, who gave me a royal welcome, attracting the attention of another woman who was supervising the kids washing cars. Amber waved to me as I sat in the shade, watching. The other woman walked into the customer seating area, a very attractive 30-ish Chinese who looked like a housewife. She possessed a 5’6” tall body that obviously had been nourished by a fine American diet and many hours in a gym. She smiled demurely, standing a few feet away, and chose that moment to unband and refasten her long, lustrous ponytail. With her hands working behind her head, her ample, 34-C breasts pushed to the sky in her tight, red tee shirt and she pointed a toe outward to open soft, smoothly curved, ivory thighs – clad in brief, tight, white shorts – that were breathtaking in their architecture. I couldn’t take my eyes off her and she knew it, though she avoided looking at me. I was soon distracted as Judy joined me to sit down, breaking the mood with details about how much money they’d taken in. She also said that she had a bamboo raffia basket chair in her car for me, which I could hang outside on my back porch, since she had no use for it. I told her I’d pick it up when I returned with the truck. The other woman heard our conversation and walked away, back to the working kids. When my car was finished I drove home and returned with the pickup. This time I was met by the other woman and Amber, who introduced the woman as Alicia, an acquaintance of Judy’s from church. Apparently Judy was off running errands. Alicia escorted me to the customer seating area, saying that she’d played cards with Amber the night before, and had “talked about me,” as she put it. Before I sat down, she stood very close to me. Her curvy hips almost touched mine, and I could feel the heat from her heavenly thighs as they nearly brushed my bare legs. I don’t know where some women get their sense of balance, but Alicia’s was well developed. Barely avoiding contact, she leaned her upper body backward and looked up into my eyes, purring, “Amber says you’re seeing Judy socially.” I murmured assent, not knowing where the conversation was going, and she murmured, “You have a very…deep voice…you should do something with it. We have auctions at church…maybe you could be our auctioneer!” “Uuuh, well, I suppose…maybe for a good cause,” I stammered, feeling discomfited and wondering if she’d been put up to this. I looked for Amber, who had witnessed Alicia’s tete-a-tete with me. She was helping some kids rinse off washed cars. “The best,” Alicia assured me. “Here’s my personal card. I’m Auction Chairman. Give me a call if you can help me,” she said as she smiled demurely, pressing the card into my palm. Then Judy drove up. She was toting several two-liter bottles of soft drinks and froze as she saw Alicia’s obviously flirtatious stance. Dropping the bags at a cooler, she screeched, “ALICIAAA!” and strode up to her friend who’d now retreated some yards away. She then started screaming at her in Cantonese, intimidating the much taller woman and causing her to step backward repeatedly from the smaller, verbally aggressive Judy. The assault went on for a full minute, causing customers, the car-washing kids, and Amber, to stop and stare. I went to Amber to find out what was going on, and she softly said, “My mother’s a leader in our community and…she’s very possessive. Alicia has a reputation… . I’ll call you at your office during the week and we’ll talk about it. Oh, your truck’s ready.” Thanking her, I reached for my wallet to pay, and Judy walked up to me, fuming. “I pay foah you!” she sputtered. Then, to her daughter, she snapped, “Am-buh, I go now. Take chai-uh to Tay-luh. See you home!” she said, flashing me a fiery look and stalking away to her car. I called after her that we could put the chair in the back of my pickup, to which she wheeled about with fists clenched at her sides and said, “No!” I winked at Amber and quietly drove to my house, with Judy’s large sedan following closely. Pulling up in front, Judy bounded out of her car to wrestle the basket chair out of her back seat, still spouting angry words in Cantonese. Inside, I placed the chair on the veranda and tried to hug her. Her little body was as stiff as a ramrod and she trembled with anger. I looked at her and noticed a solitary tear in the corner of one of her beautiful black eyes. She hissed, “Alicia who-uhh! She got two kid! Husban’ work hahd an’ she fuck White guy! Lotta’ White guy!” I realized that she was calling Alicia a whore, and tried to mollify her: “Judy, Judy, Judy, she hasn’t fucked me. And I wouldn’t…she’s your friend! And I’m your friend,” hoping that I’d not regret those statements sometime down the road as I remembered the other woman’s luscious body so close to mine. “Am-buh tell ‘bout you, las’ night! Alicia no like me! She wan’ fuck you!” she sputtered. “Don’t be silly,” I chuckled, as I fingered Alicia’s card in the pocket of my shorts. “C’mon, let’s put up the chair!” I suggested, hoping to cool things off with some distracting work. “No! You put here!” she said, stalking past me to point to a large beam on my veranda from which the chair could be suspended, anchoring its multi-pulley ropes that would allow its occupant to survey the entire yard to my high privacy fence. Then Judy stormed off, heading to the bathroom, I assumed. I looked at the chair lying on the deck and imagined, amused: A perfect spot for me on warm nights as I fancy myself a Philippine plantation owner, surveying the work of my mythical brown workers as they hack away at fields of sugar cane. Then Judy called me…loudly. I found her on my bed. She’d retouched her eye makeup, removed her glasses…and all of her clothing. She didn’t apologize for her fit of temper; very characteristically Asian, I observed. Instead, she patted the turned-down sheets beside her and said, “You come!” I went to her and she matter-of-factly unbuckled my belt and drew down my shorts and boxers. As they hit the floor, she pushed up my polo shirt and I slipped it off as my flaccid dick swung against one thigh. She whispered, harshly, “I fuck you now, Tay-luh. Alicia no get you!” as she thrust my soft meat into her mouth. I was amazed at her workmanlike skill. She sucked me erect in what seemed like mere seconds, taking me well into her throat as she forced my shaft past the obstruction at the back of her mouth. She then pulled off of me, my rampant cock dripping with her thick saliva, and yanked me onto the bed, showing surprising strength as she positioned me on my back. Straddling me, with her back to me – one knee on the bed and her other foot flat on it – she placed my cock at her splayed opening and drove down onto me to the hilt. Normally, I thought, this would hurt her, since there’d been no foreplay for lubrication. It didn’t matter, though, since she was sopping, and her other knee dropped to the sheets. I was fully embedded in her and – soundlessly, and without moving vertically – she began pulsing her internal muscles on my full length. I watched with fascination as her little round butt flexed in sympathy with her internal palpitations. Her tight brown rectum wrinkled open and closed with each clenching striation of her vaginal muscles. After a minute or so, her breath became audible as she struggled to continue the persistent, strenuous massage, her hands gripping my kneecaps. This was probably as close to my being “taken” as had occurred. A memory of long ago returned to me of a redhead whom I’d been seeing, throwing me on a bed and violently fucking me in the female superior position when I’d been drunk and taunting her for some forgotten reason. But this was different. This accomplished Asian woman was making a statement, basically telling me “you’re mine!” as she worked out her anger toward her friend Alicia, and perhaps exorcised some unpleasant demons hatched by other men, whether they were her former husband or otherwise. As with previous sexual encounters that had been less than gentle, I was fascinated by her urgent mechanical movements, though these were only internal and hardly visible. I was not even close to an orgasm, nor would I be for some time. I would work through this with her, I thought, until we could share a bit more intimacy than was now being called for. And, just at the point where I wondered whether the good gynecologist Dr. Kegel had had Judy as one of his prime experimental subjects, I sensed her tiring. I then reached down to cup her small, buttery cheeks, one in each palm, and began raising her up and down to stimulate her sensitive vagina. On the first lift, she expelled a small flood of smelly juices that thickened around the base of my cock. The back portion of her pussy lips stretched out from inside to grip my probe and – it seemed – suck at it as she then fell back down on me. “Oooohhh, Tay-luh…oooohhh, Tay-luh,” she keened, finally feeling some pleasure for herself. “You…cum…Tay-luh, you cum, you cum,” she repeated, gasping as her plunging movements began to resonate plop…plop…plop in our ears. She then rapidly spun on me, turning in a slippery half-circle on my prick as she faced me to place her hands on my chest. “I…watch…you…cum,” she wheezed, “watch…you…cum, watch…you…cum,” she breathed, slapping her soft little ivory saddle down onto me. I tried to massage her breasts and nipples, but she pushed away my hands, again saying, “You…cum, you…cum,” reestablishing herself as the dominant mistress of the day. Convinced by now that she’d have her way, I acquiesced. I watched her small, laboring form push and pull my body toward climax. I allowed that she would be deeply hurt if she thought there were a shred of possibility that I’d found her friend Alicia desirable, regardless of my earlier lecherous musing. I felt the first stirrings of a glow in my lower body and – barely perceptibly – shook it off with a toss of my head, which Judy didn’t miss. She redoubled her efforts, pumping up, down and around my cock, squeezing it on the upstrokes and plunging quickly down again as if she were some crazed automaton. Another buzzing pulse swept over me, this time centering in my groin, and…I knew that I’d lose it soon. She scratched my pectorals, digging her nails into them, and leaned down to nip softly at my upper chest just above the sternum. This has always been one of my more sensitive zones, and I withdrew my hips to plunge my butt deeply into the mattress. I tried to rocket upward one last time into her frothy cunt, but she anticipated it and pulled off of me as my cock spit forth a rope of cum that coated her face from hair to chin. She yelled “Ah-hah!” as the spunk rolled down her nose, and she clamped her mouth on me, vacuuming and gulping down several remaining shots until I was spent. She kept me in her mouth, making deeply satisfied sounds in her throat, and in a moment my dick slipped from her lips with a smack. She then looked at me with slitted eyes and opened her mouth, obscenely displaying the large pool of cum gathered there. She then drooled it onto my belly until her mouth was empty, and noisily sucked it back in, licking up and swallowing the puddle entirely. We lay there silently, for minutes, with Judy’s head on my belly, her face showing a very placid, self-satisfied half smile. “You wan’ fuck, you see Judy firs’,” she murmured. “I fix.” After she’d left I reflected on Judy’s jealousy. She’d spurned any more physical contact this day – satisfied that she’d staked her claim on me – and wanted to get home and see her daughter, Amber, before she left for the week. I’d have to deal with her possessive feelings, sooner or later, hopefully without causing an irreparable breach. Though we’d known each other for less than two weeks, I had no intention of committing myself to a monogamous relationship since I’d just emerged from the lonely life of a bachelor-in-exile. Besides, she’s so private. She studiously avoids discussing anything about her past, or even of her most rudimentary likes and dislikes. At most, I’m her new friend in the sack. Admittedly, we enjoy one another there immensely, but I’m beginning to like being a single guy on the loose…not tied down! For example, what happens if the gorgeous Dee Dee in my dentist’s office comes across? And, yes, I will file Alicia’s card in my Rolodex. I also look forward in the coming week to talking with Amber, when she gets around to calling.. Amber provides Taylor with lurid details about her mother, and herself, in another series, coming soon. Taylor, meanwhile, is busy with Dee in the “Deirdre’s Downfall” series. Please vote and provide feedback on this and “Taylor’s Tailor, Ch. 1.” It’s the only way we know how you’re receiving our work. Many thanks.