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Singapore Girl Part 7
Singapore Girl Part 7
I heard the shower running and half-awoke and then fell back into an exhausted sleep. The windows were gray with the first light of dawn. But then I was again awakened. The windows weren't much brighter, but what woke me this time was wetness. To be precise, June had brought some soapy water and was using a washcloth to clean my cock. (Remember where it had been last.) She was gentle and attentive with my tender dick and oh, so meticulous. There was still some soap film on my cock, but she took care of this. She disappeared for a moment and when she returned, she was carrying a bottle of white wine. She arranged a towel like a coffer dam around my dick and abdomen and used the wine to rinse me. As raw as my cock still was, the sensation stung and then tingled.
And then the tingling got serious because June climbed up on the bed, knelt between my legs and started lightly sucking my limp cock. Slowly, gently, she worked my dick in and out of the plush, hot, sweet mouth and soft lips. Nothing happened for a while, but then my prick started swelling in her mouth.
I managed the strength to reach down and tousle her fine, short black hair. She looked up at me from between her legs, her lovely eyes heavy lidded with lust and her lips distended about my thick cock. "Come back here and cuddle me," I told her. She finally interrupted her cock sucking but not for long. "You have given me such pleasure," she whispered, her breathe hot on my straining prick. "Now you lay back and don't move and let me give you a special treat." Special treat? What the hell did she think the madness of the night before had been? My cock throbbing and her cock sucking continued. From time to time she paused to pour more of the wine on my dick and then resumed her eager sucking.
Then she stopped and sat back on her heels and said, "I remember you told me how you liked to see a slim girl fuck herself with a big dildo..." She shivered, her hard nipples jiggling. Her throat and chest were turning red. "It makes me itchy to think of what I will do? June rammed her cunt back onto the makeshift monster dildo. She got on all fours, reached down between her legs to heft the big thing into place against her cunt and then slowly impaled herself on it. I propped myself up on my elbows to watch inch after inch of that huge thing get swallowed up in her cunt.
"Oh, darlingggggg...." she said and shook as the pleasure seized her. When she had reached her limit and what look like two thirds of the eighteen-inch prick were encased in her hot cunt, she rolled her hips around. Her clitoris was immensely swollen and stuck out at least a half-inch beyond her fine-haired cunt mat. I couldn't resist. I wriggled slowly around till I was perpendicular to her on the bed. I had a great view of her profile her firm, taut tits topped by spiked nipples that looked ready to burst, her slightly rounded little belly heaving with pleasure, her tightly drawn ass curving down to her thighs and the big homemade dildo reaching out from her cunt like an extra, misplaced appendage.
She lay her head down sideways on me, pressing my cock between her cheek and my abdomen. "You see, my darling? I want to be the best at everything that gives you pleasure." She reached around with one hand and found the vibrator, then found a tube of K-Y that hadn't been squeezed flat. She emptied its contents on the eight-inch vibrator, then took it and reached back to put the narrow head against the same tight ass I had fucked just hours before.
"Oh, it is too much!" she gasped as she pressed it slowly, steadily into her asshole. "I feel so full, so stuffed, so" "Fucked." Her eyes rolled up in their sockets till only whites showed. Less than an inch of the vibrator protruded from her asshole. She almost fell forward then, caught up in the sensations again sweeping through her insatiable young body. She had to relinquish her tenuous grip on the vibrator to catch herself, using both arms.
Being a considerate fellow, I promptly reached out with my left hand and got my fingertips on the base of the vibrator. The tight, slick vise of her ass was slowly expelling it; I pushed it slowly back in just as she got her mouth full with my cock again and resumed sucking. She bobbed her head slowly up and down on my prick. To be honest, I was surprised I could even feel her lips, let alone her tongue or the insides of her cheeks yes, the insides: she was sucking so hard that the velvety wet flesh on the inside of her cheeks was rubbing the sides of my cock head.
All the time, mind you, I was letting the vibrator slip about an inch or so out of her ass and then slowly pushing the little buzzing bugger back in while she never stop rolling and rocking her hips on the immense rubber dildo impaling her cunt.
And she was cumming of course.
Then, abruptly, she stopped and looked up at me. "I am going to drink you dry." "I'm already dry, honey? "I am going to do it." I shook my head. "It'll take forever after last night? She paused to cum again, then: "Good I want it to last forever. I love sucking my darling's hard cock." She put her mouth back on my cock and then she did something that few women seem to know about. I've only known one other, and she was an ex-hooker, who did it. Believe me, I've thought about it and I think I've figured it out. It sounds complicated hell, maybe it is but the effect is cataclysmic on a man's (at least, on this man's) self-control. It goes like this: June dropped her head back on my cock. This time she got just the glans and maybe two inches of the shaft into her lips. She rolled her tongue against my shaft and flattened her tongue, creating, essentially, an airtight seal around my cock in her mouth.
Then she sucked again, and pulled her tongue away and down slowly and powerfully. The closest analogy I can think of is the way a teething child will suck his or her thumb, using the tongue to increase the vacuum (which offers some semblance of relief for the poor strained gum tissues).
But while June was doing that, she was also pulling her head back and inch or so at the same time. Suck, pull, return suck, pull, return...
After about sixty seconds of that, my balls didn't care how much overtime they'd but in the night before; they were ready to erupt.
I started arching up at her even as she was arching up and back to try to drive the dildo deeper into her cunt and the vibrator deeper into her little ass. My arching up was fine but when I started to pull back, she delivered the final move. She grabbed my hips in both of her little hands and tried to hold my movements within that two-inch range she'd established and she began moaning.
It felt like I was cumming forever. The jism seemed to float not flow; float out of me in endless ribbons of pleasure. My balls were drawn up so tight that they seemed to be trying to burrow back inside my abdomen. It seemed to last for hours, this exquisite, almost painful pleasure, but that's only because it was so intense that the orgasm literally left me drained and unconscious.
When I recovered, it was to the smell of fresh coffee and the sight and what a sight of a freshly scrubbed, perky June carrying a tray with fresh java and a pair of cups. June was wearing a green silk kimono. (Yes, she was from Singapore, a place not known for a love of the Land of the Rising Yen, but June wasn't dim; she knew the kimono is the most comfortable garment devised by the hand of Man for just lounging ... and looking sexy in the process.) She saw me watching her from atop the thoroughly devastated bedcovers and put down the tray. Her lips were puffy and her eyes were shadowed and bloodshot.
She sat beside me.
"Oh, my mouth is sore and my back hurts and I ache down there and in back? "From doing nice stuff." Her nipples were already hardening as she rested her hand lightly on my limp, sore dick.
"And you are all tired out and reddened from fucking this nice tight Chinese girl. She pressed herself upon me. "It was wonderful, my darling!" I tried to reply in kind, but then those wonderful lips were smothering mine.
Her birthday came three days later and that was the day I was going to give her the ring or offer, at least. It might seem as if after the night of debauchery, anything else would be a letdown, but it wasn't. If anything, it was even better. There were no walls, now, no barriers or secrets. Either could tell the other any desire that would shock or revolt. The wish my not be shared, might not be acted upon, but there was so much else that was good and there was something not so good. Her birthday was the beginning of the end.
After dinner at I. Angelina's, a terrific Italian place nearby (where the regulars were so delighted to see a hetero couple that they kept sending over drinks), we returned to June's lovely apartment. I gave her a birthday gift a very sexy nightie she'd been admiring in Mistress Mine and was saving the Ring for later.
She'd gotten a lot of cards for her birthday. They were on display all over the office area and in the living room upstairs. She had surrounded herself with them, as if to keep her warm despite the distance between herself and her loving family.
The cards in the office were from business acquaintances and Jaycee colleagues. Those in the living room and dining room were from friends and neighbors. Those on the mantle in the bedroom were the special ones, she explained, and placed mine on in its place.
"Do you mind if I look at these others?" "Go ahead," she called back as she started the water running in the shower. I knew she'd gotten cards from sisters and brothers and from a cousin, and I was expecting to find one from her boyfriend-boss.
What I wasn't expecting was that it would be addressed to "My darling wife" and signed, "Your loving husband." She tried to tell me it was just his manner of speech but when I demanded to see her working papers and visa, she began to weep. By the time she handed them over, she was telling me it didn't matter.
It mattered to me. Her official records didn't show her last name as the vowel-less, Singaporean name by which I knew her. They showed her last name as the same as that of the company's owner, and believe me, it was as Scandinavian as they get. It listed her marital status as M and he was listed as her spouse.
There aren't many things in this world that are sacred to me. A free mind. The word, "Love." Children. The Bill of Rights. Marriage.
Yeah marriage. Two people standing up before the world and saying, "Listen up! For the rest of the only life I'm sure I have ... THIS IS THE ONE. No matter what." Unless the husband is in the room hell, in the bed saying, "Go ahead and make my sweet-heart feel GOOD!" I won't mess with a married or betrothed woman.
No matter how much I care or how innocent I was in trusting her. No matter how fucked up their marriage or relationship may be or how strong it is I won't do it, not knowingly.
I had to stand by my principle. I had to leave. And my principles said I couldn't even tell her to get in touch if and when she got divorced; that given what we had would have been a terrible assault on her marriage.
So I walked out on the weeping, crying woman who had come to mean everything to me, the woman who seemed capable of repairing all the wounds, of healing all the scars, of making right everything that had gone wrong. I left the ring there, on the mantle. I hurt for a long time. If time heals all wounds in the way it is supposed to wound all heels, then I hope she got over me, as well only sooner. She deserved better than a stiff-necked throwback like me. In a sense, I feel good for having had the strength to do the right thing, because if we don't do the right thing, then the wrong thing wins and we all lose big in the end. I feel good, because I can look my own reflection in the eye and know that when it came right down to it, I had what it takes.
But when I look in the mirror, I don't see her beside me, with her impish grin and pug nose and playful mischief. When I look in the mirror, all I see is me.