It might only be around the corner, or even next door...
IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD (Amazing what can be found so close to home…)
Our houses are fairly standard and small, here in my village in Bangkok: 4m wide, or 8m if you have money and can afford to buy a double-sized property, and perhaps 20m deep, mostly 2-storey. They are not stand-alone, detached houses, but all joined down one soi, so it can never be total quietness – unless houses to the rear, left and right sides are empty of people at work, or if my TV is on too loud, there is sometimes the intrusion of sound from the neighbours.
My wife worked, whereas I had been retrenched and unable to find a job at my age; luckily, investments, superannuation and savings were sufficient to allow a comfortable lifestyle, without extravagances. My wife and I had grown apart over recent months/perhaps a year or more, and a new boyfriend was in her life (I knew); this concerned me not in the least, but I needed her goodwill – and signature on papers - to maintain my yearly residency status in Thailand, where I could afford to live, as opposed to returning to Australia, where I couldn’t possibly afford anything.
One morning, early before the day became too hot, I was ironing as I watched BBC News. I heard a wailing sound from somewhere, then again, so I muted the TV sound, pulled the plug on the iron and stepped outside. It came again, and I realized it was from the neighbor’s to my left.
There was now only the wife living there, and she was about 6-7 months pregnant. Her nickname was Dana, and previously her boyfriend and her younger brother had also lived there. I wasn’t exactly friends with them, but tried to be a smiling neighbor and we always exchanged greetings etc, whereas my wife would never acknowledge them or any neighbours at all – a Thai ‘thing’, very private and unfriendly!
I wasn’t sure when or why, but about 3-4 months previously, perhaps more I thought, I noticed no car parked in front of their house, and didn’t see the boyfriend or brother; I did see Dana perhaps every few days, smiled and greeted her, and noted her growing in size, but also looking more pale and drawn, and her smile was weak even as her eyes were more downcast as time passed. She was perhaps 30 years old, slim and quite beautiful normally, and her hair was long and black: my favourite.
This particular morning, she was wailing, and I couldn’t ignore it, so I tentatively went to her gate and called softly to her; she came to her door, tears streaming down her face: a face of pain and anxiety. So I entered their courtyard, and went to her door. I had never been inside their house before, but as she appeared to be collapsing at the door, I quickly put my arm around her and helped her to the sofa just inside.
I helped her to lie down, her loose maternity dress riding up her legs revealingly, but she was too upset to notice, and I didn’t want to embarrass her by trying to pull it down. I asked if she wanted water, and she nodded, so I went through to the rear of the house – same basic layout as my own – and found a glass and a bottle of cold water in the fridge.
I returned to find her sitting up, her dress straightened and demure, and she was wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve: a distasteful local habit to one brought up on handkerchiefs and tissues, and I quickly pulled a new tissue from my pocket and offered it to her; she smiled gratefully, cried loudly again, and I knew I would need more than one tissue for her!
I didn’t speak, though I knew Dana’s English was better than my Thai – I didn’t know what words to use to calm her, or if there were any questions appropriate; so I just sat on the far end of the sofa and handed her the glass of water. She gulped it down as if parched, and I went to the kitchen and refilled it. When I returned, she was calmer and she said a simple “I am sorry, and thank you.” I smiled at her and shook my head, “I am your next door neighbour; if I can help you at all, you only need to ask, Dana, but when I heard you crying, I had to come without you asking, and there is no need for you to say ‘sorry’”. She smiled shyly, and I felt sorry for her at that point: young and alone, pregnant, and upset. Although touching another is not a usual practice here, I patted her arm gently, and she surprisingly placed her hand over mine.
I only had my ‘in-house’ shorts on, as was my custom at home, and today’s pair were my thin cotton ones; my touch on her arm, and her reciprocal one on my hand, elicited an unexpected response from my cock, and it throbbed and surged upwards in my shorts. I hoped it wasn’t noticed, and to avoid it being so, I excused myself to go and close my front door – left open when I went to Dana’s house. She nodded and smiled, but she was looking at the front of my shorts.
I went home, had a cigarette, swallowed some beer and decided to take a can back with me, and finally, rushed inside and upstairs to put some constricting underpants on under my shorts; I didn’t bother with a shirt: I had lived there for years and all my neighbours knew my shirtless, skinny body before now. I was composed so, armed with a beer, I returned to check on Dana.
She was still sitting there, but had clearly brushed her hair and washed her face, and was attempting a bright-eyed smile as I checked if it was ok to enter; Dana laughed a little, and said “You are welcome anytime, Khun Steve; thank you for coming. I was upset by a ‘phone call, and the baby kicked, and I just started crying. Thank you again for coming over.” I shook my head, but let her continue as she clearly needed to talk to someone, and at least I was there, and I was a good listener.
She poured it all out, switching between Thai and English, but I got the picture clearly enough:
Her boyfriend had deserted her when she told him she was pregnant, not believing it to be his baby on the way, or so he said; Dana felt he just used that as an excuse to leave, however her family seemed to side with him, hence her brother had also left, and her family now ignored her: she had called her mother earlier, but she had told her daughter to stop calling and she wasn’t welcome in the family if she had cheated on her boyfriend. Even almost 7 months pregnant by now, she had no-one to help her now, she lamented.
“I never cheated, Steve! It just happened!” She began to sob again, but quietly now; I patted her hand again, but it didn’t seem enough, so I slid closer and tentatively put an arm gently around her shoulder. She nestled against me, head on my bare chest, and placed her arm around my waist, and sighed, “It has been so long since someone, a man, took any care of me” and she held her arm around me tighter.
Well, it has also been a long time since any woman took any care of me: even a hug was a forgotten, past event. “But I guess I am so ugly, no one wants me anyway” Dana said, as I ‘shushed’ her; “That’s what my boyfriend told me as I got fatter” she continued.
“Don’t think about it” I attempted to soothe her, “Many pregnant woman become even more beautiful than before; it is not so long ago when my own 2 sons were born – quite a while, yes, but I still remember – and you were beautiful before being pregnant, and you are beautiful now, Dana: don’t even think you are not, because I have seen you before and now.” In truth, she was when she had some colour in her cheeks and her hair brushed, as now, and her smaller breasts were now considerably enlarged with the baby looming, and they felt very pleasant lying against me.
She hugged me tighter, her breasts squashed further against me, and I also tightened my grip around her shoulders. My cock stirred again, and it reared dangerously close to the underside of the arm she had across my waist, even constrained as it was supposed to be within my underpants. But forestalling further problems from my body, she winced and moved her hand to her own abdomen; “The baby kicked, hard this time” she said. I laughed, quietly and gently as I reached to stroke her hand and I took over rubbing her abdomen in gentle circles; “Perhaps he or she doesn’t want another man comforting you, Dana!”
She laughed, “Perhaps my baby is kicking because they have a man’s arm around Mum, and making her feel safe and happy within those arms, Steve, and happy that Mum’s arms can be around a man: you.”
“Dana, you are lonely, I understand; and, in truth, so am I, but we must think seriously about this…” She raised her head from my chest, and her lips closed my words within my mouth when she kissed me hard. I hesitated, but her tongue pushed relentlessly to enter, and I yielded both my mouth and my emotions to her (up to a point). I kissed her in return, fully and hungrily.
I pulled back a little, breaking the bond before it got out of control; “Dana, I can be here for you if you need help with anything, but if you are feeling a little better now, let’s take a break and consider this. I will go home and finish my ironing and washing, but if you would like, we can go out for lunch tomorrow, ok?”
She wanted another kiss, and then nodded “Ok, that would be nice, and I will shower also and do my own house-cleaning today; thank you Steve.” I gave her a hug and headed home, smiling childishly at the sunshine she had brought into my life this morning, after the shower of tears had eased, but mindful of allowing myself to get too involved.
Truth was there were other neighbourhood women I was engaged with, and after my now 4th marriage seemed on the verge of also failing, my brain tried to keep my emotions more under control than in previous decades.
A woman’s body to cuddle was the epitome of my lust for any emotional involvement…at least, that’s what I tried for: if I could help a woman be happy, and ultimately feel happiness myself, what more could be asked?
One other woman was introduced to me by a neighbor (though living 3 small streets up my village); the family in my village were Iranian; mother, father and 3 of their 4 sons, here for perhaps a year now, waiting for approved visas to go to America. Their youngest son, Michael, was often hanging around the older girls and boys at the ‘corner shop’ where I went every afternoon/evening to sit and drink beer with similarly aged men: our ‘group’ as we called ourselves.
I had never spoken with Michael’s mother and father until one day fairly recently, when his mother came to the shop, standing under the awning cover waiting for the local village bus. She spoke to her companion, and as I was alone at the table at the time, came over to tell me she/they were going to the local hypermarket and did I want anything?
I was somewhat taken aback, less by the fact that she had even spoken to me than by the sight of the hidden voluptuously enormous breasts of her companion! I managed to smile past my staring eyes to say ‘no, thank you’ even as her companion smiled and winked at me.
I looked at their faces and thought they must be sisters, but then the bus rolled up and they both smiled at me, ‘see you again’ Michael’s mother said, and I nodded and smiled in return, mumbling ‘I hope so’ to myself.
A few days later I managed to ask Michael if her mother’s shopping friend was her sister, as to me they looked alike; Michael said “That’s because they are both fat!” I protested that’s not what I meant at all, that their faces were alike, but Michael said she was just a friend who also lived in Bangkok and came over to visit sometimes. Ok, I would just have to hope for another voyeuristic opportunity one day.
It took 2 weeks but then I saw her get off the bus and head to Michael’s house, up the side street opposite where I drank my beer. She possibly felt my stare and she turned her head around, smiled when she saw me and nodded her head in greeting. I flashed a smile of my own, inclining my own head, and decided to be bold: I put the palm of my hand to my lips and made a kissing motion; she laughed and continued.
It was the next day when we actually met, when I was shopping at my supermarket and both women were in the aisle I turned into.
They were in fact, quite fat, and standing side by side there was no room for me to pass in the aisle, as wide as it was; I knew what I wanted and it was perhaps 10m further down, but I was a patient man and so I stepped slowly forward as they did, seeming to inch our way to my washing powder: the larger, economical size, even as I watched the large women’s rears in front of me. At last, I bent down to get my chosen brand, and then spoke “Good morning ladies; you have looked at everything, but not put anything in your trolleys! This is why men are better shopping…I have a list and buzz around and only stop to get what I need.” I softened my words with a smile as they turned at the interruption, and then they both laughed.
They had promised to finish their shopping quickly, and I left them to quickly finish my own, and took it to my car and then we met up for a light lunch: they chose a fast-food hamburger outlet downstairs (a provider of food which I truly detested as being a large part of the ‘fat’ revolution of recent decades) so I ate a small French fries while they ate quite large meals.
Michael’s mum, whose name was Raisa, introduced her friend Nareta, and we ate and talked through lunch; well, they talked and ate, I watched large breasts across the table.
When I felt bared feet sliding on the top of my own under the table, I didn’t flinch; looking at each of them, I encountered warm smiles and shining eyes: and silence. They had finished eating, my fries were cold and unpalatable, so I offered them a lift home and we trundled out to the car, and loaded their bags in the boot with my own.
It was a tight squeeze for Raisa in the rear, my small Ford Fiesta not used to such bulk, whereas Nareta, in the front passenger seat, had more leg room at least; they laughed about dieting as I drove home to our village, Raisa directing me to their house and we unloaded. As Nareta left the car she left behind a card, size of a business card, and obviously her phone number for me; she also leaned back in, smiled and asked if I liked what I looked at over lunch…I could only nod ‘yes’.
I unpacked my grocery bags at home, changed from my ‘going out’ shorts and shirt to my home shorts, put things away, and realized I was a bag light: no bread, milk, sausages or margarine. Clearly the ladies had taken it with theirs, but before I could finish and put on my shirt to wander to Raisa’s house, Nareta appeared at the gate, and then at my door, calling out “Forget something?”
I smiled, motioned her inside, and took the bag from her, bread into the cupboard, other items into the fridge; Nareta said “You just gave your bag to us didn’t you? Did you want to see Raisa again maybe?” I looked at her as she raised her eyebrows and settled onto the sofa.
“Why would you think I wanted to see Raisa again?”
“Well, she said you tickled her toes at lunch; you didn’t tickle mine.” I sauntered over a little closer after closing the fridge, “Do you like your toes tickled?”
I didn’t wait for a response; I said “I always settle back with a beer after finishing shopping; can I get you a water or tea/coffee?”
“A beer, please Steve; and a cigarette. That’s what I relax with after shopping.” I must have shown surprise, and she chuckled “I am a liberated woman: in many ways; it has been a battle, but now I go after what I want, and generally I get it, with no cares as to ‘male superiority or dominance’ feelings along the way: I am my own Woman.”
“A beer and cigarette coming right up, my Lady” and I bowed obsequiously as I backed towards the kitchen and fridge, in part to hide the growing cock in my thin shorts. I turned away from Nareta, jumped into the toilet where my shorts and underpants were hanging…and almost put my underpants on beneath my shorts: but I didn’t, just willed my cock not to be so excited.
She declined a glass, accepting a can of cold Heineken, while I put ice and Singha in my beer glass, and brought my cigarettes and ashtray in from outside.
I sat in my sofa chair, Nareta at the sofa lounge to my left, a cushion table in the corner between us which was my beer and TV remote base. I placed her beer on a square mat, proffered her a cigarette and leaned across to light it; the bodice of her dress flowered open as she leaned across and down to the flame, and those breasts of Nareta – surely braless now! – loomed huge in my view!
My hand shook, and Nareta held it as she lit her cigarette from the flame, took the lighter and lit mine for me. “A bra is so confining of a woman’s freedom, would you agree, Steve? A lot like underpants for a man I imagine… Cheers, I am happy to meet you at last, my Steve. I had to argue with Raisa as to who would return your grocery bag; her breasts are actually bigger than mine, but her husband makes her try and hide them. Do you want mine or want hers, my Steve?” The emphasis she had now placed on ‘my Steve’-twice- left me no room for a compromise answer: “Yours, Nareta, are gorgeous!”
She was dominant and took over; she closed the screen door, closed the blinds, and pulled me on to the sofa, where she took the cigarettes and stubbed them out, and then gave me my glass and toasted me with her can – which she emptied in 2 mouthfuls as I swallowed a little. She put her can and my glass on the table, and stood, undoing buttons down the front of her dress and, with no pretense at modesty, stepping out of it and kicking it to the side.
Her brash nakedness, as she had no panties on covering her bushy cunt, seemed so out of the character of women from her country – one which to the outside world seemed staid and male-dominated – that even I was shocked she would be so exhibitionist and brazen, and dominant.
Her breasts held my eyes, and my gaping mouth wanted little more than to feast on them, but I was at Nareta’s bidding I found, and she reached for my hand and stood me upright before yanking my shorts down to my ankles and pulling me to her, and then down on to my bed-mattress on the floor.
She was a big, strong woman; I am a 50kg man feeling like a puppet in her hands – especially when those hands pulled me by the cock to sit upon her waist as she lay back on the mattress. She let go of my throbbing cock, an appendage of my body which had been unused for eons, and placed her hands on my bum, sliding me up to her chest, and then nestling my prick between those mounds of flesh with the giant brown aureoles and flaring, long pink nipples.
She manipulated me, still like a puppet, grasping my head with one hand and her own breast with one of hers, forcing my mouth to a nipple. She held me there until she was sure I was suckling – of course I was! It was wonderful! – and then took my right hand and stretched it down behind me until her bushy groin was entwined in my fingers, and she waited to see if I was going to do what she wanted: finger her cunt; I did.
Then she appeared to sigh as she claimed what she seemed to want: my prick in her hands to slide up between the mountainous crevasse of her breasts as she squeezed them along my bone-hard cock. I was leaking pre-cum and this made it easy to slip back and forth - the movement of my own cock almost beside my own head it seemed as I suckled from her –and it was also moving my hand and fingers up and down the slit of her cunt in dual motion, even as I used my teeth to lightly hold her nipple in my mouth and tongue it’s pointed end in swirls and sucks.
She lifted and parted her legs, her thighs opening to my hand, and I could now reach more easily through the bush and her slit, and I found a giant nub to tweak; when Nareta moaned, I knew it was ok to continue and I twisted her clit lightly and rubbed it up and down and squeezed it between 2 fingers. Lingeringly, I left it to probe with my fingers the hidden depths of her, a soaking wet canal to glide through – 2 fingers, 3...and I found I could rub her clit with the bones of my thumb as it sideways joined my fingers inside.
She bucked at this, and I had to bite harder to hold her nipple; then I gave up and swallowed as much of it as I could and sucked the breath from her, as she began long moans and groans and writhed under me. I changed to her unattended breast, and did the same there, holding on with my mouth as she seemed to try and throw me off. But she never let go of my cock, only rubbed it harder between her breasts, and at maximum upwards reach, I was just touching her lips with the head of my wet cock, and she thrust her tongue out each time to lick and suck my juices.
My fingers were buried inside her endless cunt, and I had enough fingers in there to stimulate her on all sides; my mouth was greedily trying to suck milk from her tits, and she was doing what she wanted with my cock: all that was left was a climax, and Nareta seemed to be climbing towards the peak of one, as her breathing became more laboured and she panted, writhed more under me and frantically thrust my cock up into her mouth and sucked, before returning it to the folds of her breasts and ramming it up and down.
When she did climax, moments later, my hand was drowned in a torrent of her juices pouring down her vagina and spilling out below us. My mouth almost burst with a sudden upward thrust of her breast, too enormous to swallow, but she tried anyway – until she reefed her breast away in order to totally enclose now my sliding cock and she wanted my spurting semen to join her own outpourings.
I had lasted way too long, and sensed she was giving me permission, almost an order, to now let go; I obliged and spurted within those breasts several bursts of my own juice. At the final moments she pulled me roughly to her mouth and sucked my cock of the final burst and droplets which followed, until it was painful, and I gently showed a need to pull away from her mouth.
I changed breasts, lightly licking and sucking now, twirling my tongue over her sensitive nipple, as I gently eased my fingers and hand out from her cunt, even as I came down from my ejaculations and knowing she was experiencing the same. I slid a little way down her body, my groin over hers, my legs between hers, and lay down along her body, my face lying between her breasts, which gravity had pulled sideways, and my puny self easily able to lie atop her without fear of crushing her.
5, perhaps 20 minutes later, we stirred when Nareta rolled me off! She was slightly above me on the mattress, while I was face-up on the floor beside her. She smiled down at me, then leaned and, for the first time, kissed me on the lips, gently, lovingly, happily; and then she thrust her tongue into my mouth and ravaged it!
“Get my dress for me, Steve” she ordered as she began a difficult process to stand up. I watched her body, fascinated for a few moments, but then she glared at me, and I realised I was now, if not her slave, expected to do as she bid me. I rolled over and picked her dress up from the floor, and stood as she stepped into it. She appeared to be waiting for me to continue, so I did up her buttons, risking a final suck on each nipple before I covered and enclosed them.
She had a smile on her face as she headed for the door; “Call me when you go shopping next week, Steve. But if I call you first - Raisa gave me your number from Michael’s phone – it means I am in your village and I need you. Be ready: it could be tomorrow, my dear Steve.”
As Nareta walked out the door and then the gate, my phone rang; “Steve, it is Raisa. I knew you first, before Nareta! It isn’t fair if you don’t give me the same as her, whatever you two did. Where is she? When are you going shopping?”
I sat for a few moments after I had calmed Raisa, reminded her I knew her husband and sons, and we all lived as neighbours, so we should be friends but other matters we had to be very careful about, right? Raisa accepted this rationale, asked again my next proposed shopping, and then she hung up laughing! I looked at the clock: 14.30, good time for an afternoon nap.
I spread a towel over the very wet mattress, opened the blinds and screen door for any breeze, lay down and went to sleep.
An hour later, I stirred, made a coffee, scrubbed the wet patches on the mattress and put it outside in the afternoon sun, showered away most smells and tastes of Nareta (for now it seemed), put on new house shorts, and I was only waiting for my hair to dry enough to brush to go and start my evening’s beer drinking up around the corner – when a woman who lived 3 or 4 houses up my soi appeared at my door. “I came before, but you were very busy!” She laughed and added “Then I saw that lady go and I came again, but you were asleep; now I am back: I want what you gave her and I can’t wait anymore…of course, I could come back when your wife is home…?”
I looked at her, though I knew I had looked at her and found her attractive since perhaps 2-3 years previously and whenever I had seen her since – but why now, why did she come to my house now, and so invitingly? I invited her in, well understanding her hardly-veiled threat, and accepting the inevitable: sex on the floor or sofa. I asked if she wanted a beer also, but she smiled, even white teeth showing, and said “no, that isn’t what I want” as she turned and closed the screen door and pulled the vertical blinds closed. She pulled her loose dress up and over her head, exposing a slim, beautiful body with full breasts and a bare, shaven pussy; as she threw the dress on the chair, she tossed her head and her long black hair swirled around, wafting a delicate perfume to my nostrils. My own walk to get a beer halted and I turned to follow the direction my cock led me as it grew quickly in my shorts.
I also knew she was married, but she had no marital inhibitions as she grasped my shorts’ waistband as soon as within reach and yanked them down. I stepped out of them as she grasped my cock and pulled me down to the floor; the floor did have a mat, so it wasn’t bare tiles under my body as she sat on my thighs and lowered her mouth quickly to the shaft reaching up towards her.
‘Oh my, this could take a while’ I thought knowing I wouldn’t cum any time soon, no matter how expert a cocksucker she might be.
She was good, but she seemed to only want to know I was as hard as I was going to get, and she raised her face from my groin, to be quickly replaced by a wet cunt dropping like Newton’s apple down that same wet shaft she had released from her mouth!
“Oh god!” she squealed as she impaled herself on me, and in return I grabbed both her fulsome breasts and ground her nipples between my fingers: now she screamed and writhed…and orgasmic fluids flew from her cunt down my cock! Wow! What a quick response this woman has to sex!
She never stopped cum after cum; I had to do almost nothing, but I wanted her tits in my mouth, and I gulped them down one by one, biting her nipples, and reveling in her cries and her continued orgasms as she bounced as she wanted on my hardened prick, emptied within Nareta before, and now seeming to smile as it knew it didn’t need ejaculate just yet…
Perhaps 30 minutes later, knowing I would now need to wash the mat underneath us, I asked her name: “Wan” she gasped, still lying atop me, my cock throbbing hard inside her but yet to release and become flaccid. I enjoyed being able to just lift my hips a little, to send my cock hard up again – and again – inside, and to hear her whimper now as her orgasms kept coming, but drained her energy to the point, now, where she was totally spent. “Please” she panted, “I have to go home”; I thrust upwards, and felt her juices run down my shaft yet again, and then I relaxed and stroked her back gently from her neck down to the crease of her buttocks, slick with her own fluids which had been so copious they had run down her arse also.
15 minutes or so later she slurped up off my cock, groaning as it was still its full length, and rolled to the side. Learning from the previous dominant female, Nareta, I rolled and stood up holding Wan’s dress for her to slip over her head and shoulders; I stopped helping her when her arms were raised so I could have a last suck on her 2 breasts – how I love breasts! – Only then did I stop, when she moaned as if she wanted the dress pulled off to start again! Who was dominant now, I wondered?
Wan motioned to the door, and I helped her find her sandals outside and stumble to the gate, but I was still naked, so I couldn’t linger and bade her ‘a safe walk home’, and dashed inside!
I am not a ‘tree-hugger’ but I do care about the Earth’s dwindling resources, fossil fuel usage, and recycling; now I had to shower again, thus using double the amount of my normal daily water usage on my cock!
Now I dressed fully and went around the corner to have my evening beers: after an eventful day!
Not more than 2 minutes passed, and Raisa appeared: I had only just filled my glass with ice, opened a bottle of beer, sat in my normal seat and, once comfortable, lit a cigarette and opened my book – none of my usual drinking buddies yet arriving…
“Can you take me shopping tomorrow, Steve – I forgot some things today…”
I gave her a gentle smile, “Sorry Raisa, I am going to Vietnam in the morning; I will be back in about a week, and will see you then, ok?” She smiled wanly and hopped on the next village bus a few moments later.
I duly returned to my Bangkok home: my banking done in Vietnam, dental check-up done, medicines bought…all the items I did every 3 months (or 6 monthly in the case of my dental check) when I went to Vietnam’s southern city of Ho Chi Minh: a city, a country I loved and had done for 15 years now.
I unpacked, put my washing in the machine and turned it on, put away everything else as required, reset my house as I liked - every time I went away, my wife ‘tidied up’, and every time I returned I put things back where I liked them, reasoning that I was home every day, she home only a little, so it was my right to make my home comfortable - and took a shower before having a nap: it was an early flight I always took, and my advanced years (!) meant I always liked an hour’s nap in the afternoon.
A call from the gate woke me; I glanced at the digital clock on the satellite controller: ok, my hour had passed, so I wasn’t really angry, even if 2 hours might have been possible and beneficial.
A young girl was peering over the gate; “My ball came inside, can I get it, Luong Steve?” She knew me, and as my eyes fully focused – though without my glasses - I knew her as the daughter of the family across the road. She was rarely outside to play: her family was Moslem and seemed never to want anything like ‘good neighbours’. I had tried smiling at the man of the house, at the woman I assumed to be his wife, an older girl, and this younger one – but none seemed to even allow a smile in return.
I motioned her inside the gate, my smile welcoming to such a young beauty….as I saw her up close for the first time. I would soon learn Azra was 13y.o. and no, she wasn’t really allowed to play outside, but her older sister – who was supposed to be taking care of her this afternoon – had gone off somewhere to meet a friend, and she took the chance to play outside; now her ball had bounced into my courtyard. In her t-shirt and shorts, Azra now also bounced into my courtyard.
I told her to look while I got my glasses, firstly washing my face and brushing my teeth and hair: a waking up ritual.
When I came back outside, she was still looking, her buds of breasts thrust outward by the action of looking up and around; I was surprised she hadn’t found it and asked if she had seen it bounce in here. She said “No, I threw it up in the air, but it went over my head behind somewhere.” Ok, it was coloured red, so I helped her look, and then I spotted it up in the tree. A broom was long enough to reach it, once I had climbed on a chair, and it fell down to her.
I offered her a glass of water, and invited her inside, turning on the large TV as I passed; taking a chance she wouldn’t have BBC, I turned it to CBeebies, and she was laughing before I had walked the few metres to the kitchen.
Returning with the water for Azra, and a beer for myself, one show had finished and another was about to begin. She sipped some water and looked at my beer. I realized and asked “Oh, do you mind if I have beer? And I guess I should find a t-shirt to wear – sorry, these are my normal house clothes: just shorts when I am home alone. Does it offend or bother you Azra?”
She smiled shyly “It is your house, Luong Steve; if it bothered me I could scream and run home – couldn’t I?” Now her eyes twinkled with mischief, “Of course, if you came to my home you would need to wear more, and you wouldn’t find any beer – but perhaps, in my home, I might go around in only panties, and if that was normal for me, would that offend you, Luong Steve?”
Now was the time for a measured response: be the responsible, old man I should be, and admonish her for voicing such thoughts to a stranger; or play the game…
“Well, if that is your normal attire, I certainly wouldn’t complain Azra – but I couldn’t promise not to look: I am a man after all, and you are truly a beautiful young woman.” She blushed and I backtracked a little “But I don’t think you would be allowed to dress only like that in your house, right? Is it a dream of yours to be able to? That I could understand, we all have dreams which are taboo somewhere, but they are ok somewhere else – do you understand?”
She hesitated, but only for a moment, “Yes, I understand, and yes, it is a dream I have: to be allowed to be free to dress as I want and walk around as I want, and it is also a dream to…well, have a Man look at me when I do this, and find me nice to look at…but I am not allowed to think this, or dream this, in my house.” She sighed, and a wistful look came to her eyes.
“In my house, young Lady Azra, you are a Young Woman who can decide for herself what she wants. I do not judge you; you can have freedom here, if you choose and if you want. I only tell you: I will find you ‘nice to look at’ without a doubt: I do already, I must tell you.” She blushed, but I noticed her nipples were excitedly pushing against her t-shirt; I also noticed they must be very long nipples compared to the small, youthful, size of her breasts. My cock thrust upwards in my shorts, and when I looked back at Azra, her eyes were transfixed on my shorts tenting upwards, and she asked demurely – yet boldly: “Did I do that, Luong Steve?” “Honestly Azra? Yes, you did.”
Azra had left a few moments later, worried her sister would come home, but a nice smile on her face told me she was not scared or fazed by what had happened; she actually asked if she could ‘lose’ her ball again tomorrow and chat some more with me. “You are welcome anytime, my Young Lady, no invitation necessary. Have you got your ball to take home?”
I was writing a story on my computer late that same evening, very late actually, when a hiss came from outside. I went to the open doorway and saw Azra at the front gate.
I hadn’t locked it yet, so I motioned for her to enter, surprised she was here at this hour. She came inside and sat down on the floor, motioning me beside her. “What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned.
“Today is a big Moslem festival day, and my mum and dad just phoned my sister to say their restaurant will be really busy for hours yet – so my sister has sneaked away to meet friends (or her boyfriend) and left me home alone.” She giggled “Yes, like the movie…so I wanted to come here. But I didn’t lose my ball…is that ok, I come, Luong Steve?”
I laughed gently with her, and put my arm around her shoulders and squeezed her into a hug; “It is fine, my young Lady Azra: I told you: “anytime”, and no, you don’t need your ‘lost’ ball. So, did you eat dinner, do you want a drink, maybe ice-cream?”
“You have ice-cream!?” She turned her face upwards to mine: I could have kissed her,
“Yes I have. I used to – when I was young – eat huge platefuls of it after my dinner. Now, I buy it, and maybe I don’t open for months…and then, one day/one night, I feel a need to eat, so I eat it slowly and it is like an orgasm of taste! Oh sorry, I shouldn’t say things like that! Would you like some?”
“Oh my, yes please; I rarely get to eat ice-cream.” Her eyes went from euphoric to sad, looking up at me, so I squeezed her shoulders, and she cradled her head into the nook of my neck. ”What is ‘an orgasm…of taste?’”
I rose, gently leaving her sitting there, and headed for the kitchen and the fridge, and then I answered: “An ‘orgasm’ is what women experience at the peak of their feelings during sex, during love-making, be it with themselves alone or with another, and though I cannot feel it the same, I can share a woman’s happiness if they feel an orgasm. It might even come from eating ice-cream!”
I spoon-fed Azra the ice-cream as I did to myself: slowly, each mouthful held on the tongue as it melted, and the taste is unbelievable until it is tried so; even Azra agreed, and she sucked it in her mouth as I now felt I wanted her to suck my hardened cock (constrained now, after an earlier shower, in different, somewhat stronger shorts – not strong enough it now appeared).
Multiple spoonfuls later I said “Enough for tonight, Miss; keep some for another day.” She didn’t want to stop eating it and grabbed my hand with the spoon; I let her get one more scoop, but at her second attempt, I applied more strength as did she and the battle allowed the ice-cream to melt and it dripped off the spoon onto her t-shirt front…
I was wrong to do it (was I?)…I bent my head down and licked the ice-cream from her t-shirt, knowing it was right over a poking nipple; in order to get all the ice-cream from her shirt, I had to suck, so her nipple I sucked, and suckled, and licked…and I didn’t stop because Azra didn’t ask me to/tell me to, and so I moved to her other nipple (after daubing my fingers in the ice-cream container and wiping them on this new breast) and found I needed to suck it all off by sucking her breast. This was hardly a chore for me, and a delightful cleaning job I proceeded to give her as her breast fitted my mouth quite easily, and allowed my tongue to slurp at her nipple. “Oh…” Azra moaned, “Is this the same as an ‘orgasm’? Something is happening to me, like I have never felt before!”
I took a gentle gamble, and placed my hand over her cunt mound, gave a gentle squeeze, and was rewarded with a moan and an uplift of hips. “This is where the centre of an orgasm will be, my young lady…do you want to feel what it can be like?” She appeared to consider it from all angles for perhaps 15 seconds, and then nodded and shyly smiled, “If it won’t hurt and won’t take my virginity ok?”
“I promise not to take your virginity (unless one day you ask me to), and I promise not, and never, to hurt you, young Azra.” I removed my hand from her cunt and held it up as in swearing an oath: Lucky.
A voice at the door startled and interrupted us, and Azra scrambled back; I had never seen her closer than across the street, but clearly this was Azra’a older sister asking “What is going on here?”
“Azra was just asking questions, and I was answering her; nothing has happened, I promise.” I could see Azra’s head nodding behind and to the side of me.
“Azra, you go home and have a shower and go to bed, while I have a few words with Luong Steve here; I will be home when we finish talking, but you go now!”
The young girl fled, offering me a sad smile and a “Sorry, Luong Steve, thank you” and she went out the door, scrambled into her sandals and out the gate, running across the road.
I turned with an enquiring look at her sister, but what I saw was a bare cunt staring at me from under a skirt as she sat with her knees apart and feet planted on the floor mat a metre away from me. “I am Sheera, and I am 17 and horny seeing what you and Azra were doing and what you were planning to do; I want to feel that orgasm you were talking about. If I don’t get one, I might tell my father what I saw…”
“Are you a virgin Sheera? Have you had an orgasm before?” She hesitated before replying “No, and no. It is difficult to stay a virgin if you want a boy to like you as a gf, but they are so fast, and I know it takes girls/women a little more to ‘cum’ like boys do, but boys don’t care.”
“Don’t you masturbate, pleasure yourself? Have you never reached your own peak that way, and felt an orgasm?”
She blushed “Yes, I do, but in my house it is hard to find privacy, and if my mother found me, she would tell my father; and if my father knew, he would beat me so bad! So an orgasm of pleasure: no, I have never had. It is only fair if you gave me, Azra’s older sister, first chance to have with you.”
I didn’t answer; instead I checked the guide on the remote and turned to a mildly provocative film which was on TV, and then I stood and took my glass to refill with beer and ice. Returning, I turned off the overhead light, so the TV was the only illumination. I sat up on the sofa and motioned Sheera to join me; she did without hesitation, and I offered her my glass of beer: “Just to relax, you can clean your teeth before you leave.” She drank – half my glass: no novice drinker of alcohol here!
I stretched along the sofa, and placed my arm gently about Sheera’s waist and tugged her to lie down also, her back to me as she faced the TV. I tugged her to shuffle her bottom back comfortably against my groin, and where she could feel and moaned at, the hardened cock within my shorts (though I knew she had watched it as I returned from the kitchen a minute earlier) and then I slowly roved my hand up to cup a breast through her University uniform cotton shirt.
Now I was the one who moaned as I easily recognized the absence of a bra – no panties, no bra? Is this a new-style ‘uniform’? – driving me to faster action as I unbuttoned her shirt and placed my bare hand on her bared breast. We both moaned pleasurably, and I tweaked her nipple between 2 fingers, eliciting a groan now.
I gently swirled her nipple as she watched the TV where, coincidentally, a bedroom scene was showing and a guy and a girl were clearly making out a ‘fucking’ scene – under the cleverly draped sheet; the girl on top, her body rising up as he appeared to lift her with his dick, and they were both groaning also. Sheera moaned, and I cupped her entire breast, not small by any means, and then lowered my head over her body, seeking the breast closest to me while my fingers held onto the farthest one – and she twisted flatter on the sofa, dragging my cock down with her body, and her breast became fully available to my open mouth.
I swallowed it whole, only just - as it was a well-developed mammary - and allowed my tongue full rein to rove over her nipple and around as I sucked her wholly within my mouth. Then I gripped her nipple lightly with my teeth, and my lips sucked as if I was a baby at her mother’s milk. Sheera jumped under my mouth, but then relaxed and just moaned, moans of pleasure, not pain, and her hand crept up and ruffled through my hair and down my face to the side of my mouth around her.
I had unbuttoned her whole shirt and she wanted it off, so we parted for a few moments and I eased it back off her shoulders, a pause in my action to kiss the crook of her neck and up to her earlobe, then down the line of her chin, with a gentle brush of her lips with my own. She raised her head and sought my mouth, but I denied her and took her shirt totally off. Her body was arched and I dived back to her breast with my mouth and fastened on it, but now freed my other hand to rove downwards along her ribcage and across her stomach, fluttering my fingers along her skin. She was panting and writhing now, her mouth open as I raised my own from her soaked breast and now I gave my mouth to hers, as hungry as she was to be joined with me by something, with tongues fucking each other.
I jerked my head up to ask “Oh, you told Azra you would have a ‘few words’ with me; do you think you should go home now Sheera?”
In response, she became emboldened enough to wrap a hand around my cock and give it a tight, slightly painful squeeze; I took that as a “NO!” I also took it as an invitation to reach to the side of her skirt, to the button and zipper I had felt against my body, and to undo both. I stretched my free hand down the centre of her abdomen, under the loosened skirt waistband and towards the forbidden jewel of a Woman. Sheera shivered and moaned against me, and my response was to lower my mouth to her skin and kiss my way up to her neck and ear on this side, then around her shoulder and back under chin; she wanted my mouth back with hers, but I headed south after my hand, slurpily kissing the underside of her breasts and all over her ribs and abdomen – until it was time to change direction.
I wanted her to participate, and I wanted to suck her cunt, so now I sat and removed my shorts quickly, tuned towards her feet and left Sheera to decide what to do with the cock which was now positioned close to/over her mouth, as my own mouth went back to sliding down her body, slowly yet inexorably making for the uppermost opening of her slit – and there my tongue went to its enjoyable work again, after pulling her skirt off and away.
Sheera groaned and I felt her hand encircle my cock, then she plaintively said “I don’t know what to do…” I quietly answered “It is all up to you; if you want to try, kiss the head of my ‘prick’ and taste it with your tongue; after that, whatever comes naturally, or nothing at all.” I slurped my tongue down her slit further, and spread her wide when she kissed my cock…
I was leaking pre-cum and when she kissed the head of my cock, she obviously liked the taste and she sucked on it, tentatively at first; my cock jumped at this and her mouth quickly fastened around it and she began a serious sucking of my cock, slowly pulling more of me into her mouth.
This was background to me as I reached the soft folds of her vaginal opening, felt the wetness and couldn’t help but dig my tongue in and slurp at her juices. I hit her clit and she bucked and writhed, and, knowing I had hit upon her sensually most sensitive body part, I locked my mouth around its swollen bud and sucked.
That was all it took; she gushed fluids into my face out of her cunt: so powerful was this orgasm my mouth was filled and it burst outside! I retreated from her clit and greedily sucked up all the juice I could, so sweet and copious it was a 5-star dinner delivered right to my belly here at home.
Now I could feel her response as she drew my cock further into her mouth, biting actually as she came yet again, and I winced a little, worried her inexperience might shorten my sex-life - and shorten my cock! But she eased up as her own thrusts of her cunt to my mouth eased, and she just continued to swallow me, until she almost sneezed when the hairs of my groin tickled her nose: when I was fully in. Sheera may not have sucked a cock before, but she certainly had a knack for it!
“Fuck me!” she said.
“Are you sure that’s what you want Sheera?” I had to ask, even as my cock jumped at the thought of ploughing into her very being. “I need you in me, NOW!”
I rolled over her to the floor, pulled her sideways on the sofa, her legs to dangle over the edge, and then put my hands under buttocks and pulled her outwards until my prick met her cunt lips. It was hard and straight and unerringly hit home as our bodies met, and I slid inside and kept going until now the hairs of my groin became smothered over her groin, and then my buttock muscles tensed and I shoved that extra few wonderful centimetres to the back of her available tunnel.
Sheera screamed, quite loudly; enough to make me worry about my Neighbours! But she orgasmed again, and her juices flowed again, and a fleeting thought was “I will have to wash the sofa!’ I was at the point of requiring release of my own, and I said to her: ”Sheera, I want to come inside you, but I have no sperm, there is no danger, please trust me, ok?” She just thrust her pelvis up at me, and my cock hit her back wall again, and she came, and I came, my own less-than-copious juice into her vagina, and sliding easily through the combined mess of us both, I fucked her from the opening of her cunt to the wall at her end, for as long as my cock stayed hard, and even after I continued to elicit grunts of pleasure from her with my wilting cock, until my body collapsed on her, and I placed my mouth on her nipple and breast and suckled like a dozing baby atop her, while she curled her fingers gently though my hair and down my bony back, soothing me like a true mother does.
“So, was that an ‘orgasm of pleasure’ for you, Sheera? It certainly was for me, thank you.” I had lifted my head from her breast, and now stretched my neck upwards until my mouth found hers and I gently kissed her for a while. I even felt a slight stirring of my cock, still within her cunt a short way, but I knew my old man’s limitations and it could only be wishful thinking to repeat the fuck we had just enjoyed. She broke the kiss and raised my face up, her eyes twinkling, “Well, it was pleasurable enough so I guess it was an orgasm, and I guess I don’t have to tell my father anything, but....”
“But....?” “Well, perhaps we should try again very soon, so I can be certain what I felt was an orgasm, and also so I will know about orgasms for the future, ok? But, yes it certainly gave me feelings I have never experienced with a boy, and I think you would be perfect to introduce Azra to her first experience and orgasm also –with me here to chaperone her.”
Ah, so she wanted to be a voyeur also! And allow me to have sex with her 13y.o. sister!
“Trust me, Sheera, what you felt was not only an orgasm, but several of them; I am not sure I know another woman who gushes her love juices out in such quantities or with such power, you were quite an amazing lover!” I had a fleeting memory of Wan who had also cum many times and with much juice, and also Nareta on my hand, but neither with the torrential power of Sheera.
“I already promised I would never hurt Azra, and I would never take her virginity unless she one day asked me, and if I believed she truly wanted to make love. So I will leave it up to you two ladies to work things out. Now, if you have finished your ‘few words’ with me, perhaps you should go home to tell Azra all is ok – she probably is worrying you are angry with her.”
“No more words” she said.
Sheera pulled my face down and hungrily kissed me again, reaching her arms now down to my buttocks and pushing my body against hers. My cock had been stirring a little more as we had our final conversation, and it was now rigid enough to press inside her and rub against her clit, even if I couldn’t get full length to penetrate her entire tunnel. Her teeth bit my tongue as she tensed, and she moaned as I probed my hands between our bodies and grasped both breasts and nipples, pulling on the latter to stimulate them to full hardness and then roughly rubbing my palms over them and around her mounded breasts.
I left one hand working there and used my other to reach under her leg, lift it to a bent position and thus stretching her a little wider, and then I forced all that was my cock into her, my pubic hair and groin bones grinding against her pussy lips. I pulled almost out, her hands scratching at my buttocks to push me in again, and I rammed in and slid slowly out, then slowly in, rubbing her clit each time...and now she had her confirmation of another orgasm as she spurted more juices, coating my cock, her groin and down the crease of her slit to her anus – and on to my sofa again.
A short while later I ran my hand from her hairline and face down over her breasts and abdomen, over her wet cunt, slipped down to gently prod her arse, (to let her know I could go anywhere on her body), and slid along her upper leg, up and to her lips. I tapped my finger lightly against them, but she never spoke, as we now disentangled our bodies, dressed, and stood.
I offered Sheera a shower but she smiled, and knowing her parents car had not pulled up, she seemed to want to walk home, feeling and smelling of sex, probably leaking her juices and my cum all the way. She kissed me, and left smiling.
Luckily, my wife was very late that night, and I had sponged the sofa clean, and dried it as much as possible. I spread a towel on top, turned the fan on high and directed it at the sofa, and my wife didn’t bat an eyelid as she mumbled ‘hello’ and went straight upstairs to shower and go to bed.
She had probably been out fucking her boyfriend, and needed wash herself of his cum and smell, but it didn’t matter to me: she slept alone upstairs with a/c, and I slept on a mattress downstairs with the fan.
Tonight, as many nights, I decided to throw on a shirt, turned off the TV and all, and rode my bike back up around the corner, where my neighbourhood shop/drinking spot would be open for some time yet – one more beer, I decided, even though I had plenty of beer at home; I liked to sit in the street and watch whatever Life passed by, as I quietly drank and smoked.
Tonight, unusually, the owner’s 21y.o. daughter was still up, and I asked why she wasn’t asleep yet: a replay of a live concert earlier tonight was to show on TV and she wanted to watch, and she had no Uni. Classes tomorrow. Ming also had enormous breasts, and a look at them bare had become many a fantasy thought; tonight she had clearly showered and with few people around she had, most unusually and very noticeably, not put a bra on under her pyjama suit. I found it hard to take my eyes from them, sitting facing a side view of her from 2-3 metres away as she watched the TV opposite her.
Then my view was interrupted by an even larger set of tits, and Raisa asked quietly “Like what you are looking at?” I was compelled by her large body to be looking at her, her breasts particularly, and I smiled “Yes, indeed, I like very much! Hello Raisa, what are you doing out so late?”
She sat opposite me, perhaps deliberately shielding me from looking at Ming’s hanging tits, “My husband has gone back to Iran to settle up his business, my kids are either asleep or in their rooms...I am alone, and I don’t want to be – so I came looking for you, and if not you, I was needy enough to grab anybody! But it was you I was hoping to find, Steve.”
It was late, my wife was well asleep upstairs, and woke up for nothing. After 2 more bottles of beer shared with Raisa, I rode my bike home, leaving her as arranged to go ‘for a walk’ 5 minutes later, and now I ushered her into my house, motioning quietness as she giggled “Are you sure she won’t wake up and find me here?” In response, I pulled her inside, pushed her against the wall and kissed her as I allowed my hands to roam over the outside of her full-length, thin, cotton dress. Like Nareta, her friend, who Raisa knew I had had sex with - before Raisa – she wasn’t wearing panties, and indeed not a bra either I found, as I rubbed my palms up and over her huge mounds. They stood so strongly upright, no sag at all considering how much they must have weighed, that I hadn’t even considered she wasn’t supporting them with a bra: now I knew, and I mauled them with my hands.
I thought to myself: ‘I shouldn’t have enough energy to do this, didn’t I just fuck Sheera!’ But oh my, Raisa’s breasts were enough to get my blood pumping, especially into my cock.
“Oh my, Raisa, your breasts are not only the biggest I have ever known, they are so strong and upright! How do you keep them like this, and how can your husband keep his hands off them? I am sure I can’t, and couldn’t!”
Raisa took over (just as Nareta had done) and closed the screen door and blinds, quietly, told me to turn on the TV with low volume, and then told me to turn off the overhead lights; now the illumination came only from the images of the TV, and she motioned me to undress her. Déjà vu: Nareta had similarly become dominant, and ordered me to do as she bid, and willingly I obeyed; now Raisa appeared to want the same fidelity from me, and – for those breasts – I was glad to oblige.
“You didn’t ‘fuck’ Nareta, I know; she told me, so that is what I want: something she hasn’t had: your cock in me.” She said this as I was lifting her dress over her breasts and I froze at the sight of them; my hands dropped the dress and attempted to hold one breast in each hand: it wasn’t possible, they were just so, sooo big! Raisa complained, so I roughly pulled her dress fully off, my hands almost tingling from their desire to get back to fondling her, but she held me off until she stripped me of my shorts, and then she led me to lie down on my mattress on the floor, and she straddled me. Oh, she was heavy on my thighs, but her breasts were within reach of my mouth, and I ignored any discomfort or pain, my mind entranced by the now swinging globes, the mountains of breasts on which I wanted to feast.
Raisa was only interested in fucking me, so she parted her thighs and took my cock and rammed herself down on it; I must have been long enough, big enough, to satisfy her as she bounced up and down for quite a while, and I knew I was hitting a barrier at the end of her tunnel. “Oh, thank you; my husband is about half your size, Steve, and I have never been with another man, but you fill me, even hurt me as your ‘cock’ hits places I never knew a cock could go, and I never thought I would feel such in my life!”
Meanwhile, I was watching her breasts bouncing as her bouncing cunt on my cock swayed them around above my face, tantalizingly close, but out of reach of my grasping mouth. I figured I had to take some action, so I grabbed a breast with both hands as it passed closely to my mouth and I pulled her down enough for my lips, and teeth, and then whole mouth to enclose at least part of it.
I felt like a python, stretching its mouth ever so slowly to swallow a much larger animal for dinner: I stretched my mouth to no avail however: Raisa’s breast was just too big for one normal-sized mouth. My lips and tongue and teeth could do things, and they did, evidently quite well, as Raisa began moaning and groaning, and sucking in gulps of air – which only served to swell her breast within my mouth and my encircled hands: she was amazingly big!
But her goal was my cock’s eruption within her cunt, and she pulled her breast from my mouth to concentrate on her own desire, and she pounded up and down on my prick until she climaxed, her juice, not in huge amounts, but enough to then slide herself up and down my cock easily as she pleased, and she soon found it to her liking as more juice flowed and she gritted her teeth to stop any loud noises as she came again.
I had a smile on my face as I silently thought “I only have to let women cum first, once or more, and not cum myself quickly – and then who can be the dominant one?”
But that was not in my personality, honestly, so truly I smiled at the pleasure Raisa was getting from my skinny body, even squashed as it was under her bulk. But I did pursue my own desire, and I dragged her other breast to my mouth and suckled on the fattest nipple I had ever had in my mouth; ‘god, for some milk to flow’ (a fantasy of mine)!
I wasn’t going to cum quickly, drained as I had been only a while earlier within Sheera, so it was enjoyable to have Raisa cumming on my rigid cock – 3 times now I am sure she had climaxed – and yet I remained rigid and buried to the hilt inside her when she lowered herself fully groin to groin. Her weight was becoming slightly constricting, but I allowed her pleasure, and this gave me the joy of a man doing the right thing by a woman.
But I was getting my own intense pleasure from her mammary glands, switching from one to another, still trying to swallow them all, but knowing about half was all that I could stuff into my stretched mouth. Her Nipples...oh they were just heaven to suck and nibble on, and I found she emitted particularly intense shudders and moans when I did nibble on them, so I concentrated on that and found climax number 4 building within her body, her cunt tightening around my cock as she shuddered on top of me, shaking my own body with her strength and weight and ardour.
“You have got to cum in me, Steve; I am going crazy waiting for you to stop playing with me and fuck me like a bitch!”
I put my hands to her hips and indicated for her to roll off me; I shuffled to the side and laid her face down on the mattress, while I got between her legs behind her, my slopping cock trailing juice on her thighs and buttocks.
Showing her to lift up and kneel on the mattress, I took my cock in my hand and said “You want to be fucked like a ‘bitch’ Raisa? Then here it comes” and I shoved my cock into her cunt from behind, spreading her buttocks wider to enable my groin to push closer so my cock could penetrate as far down her vaginal tunnel as physically possible. She stifled a scream while pushing back against me, helped by my hands holding her hips and the rolls of her fat while I ploughed her cunt.
I still didn’t release quickly, while Raisa moaned and groaned continuously, squirming against me, feeling my cock everywhere in her. When I left her to control the join of our bodies, I used one hand to slide under her and find her clit inside her cunt, being rubbed by my cock in and out, but my fingers could tweak and pull her large, hardened clit – it seemed as big as perhaps a 3-4y.o. boy’s penis.
My other hand went for her breasts, searching for nipples to rub hard, and palms and fingers to rove around those giant globes of hers. I couldn’t have been happier if we had just fallen asleep and I held those in my hands all night...
But all good things cum to an end, and finally my cock said ‘it is time’ and I went back to pull her hips back to me, squeezed as close as I could manage, and shoved my cock its full length and held there, shooting what I could at the back wall of her vagina, at her cervix, and her final climax of this night was as powerful as her first, until she collapsed down flat, and now I lay atop her back, both panting and certainly I was smiling, hoping Raisa was also.
Her buttocks soon forced my shrinking cock out, and a trail of juice dribbled between her crease, and I thought of the mattress I would now have to wash also!
Eventually, she glanced up at the wall clock: it was 01.45, and she gasped “I have to get home, just in case my boys wake or something and find me gone! How can I walk home, I am exhausted! But I must go, Steve, and I can dream of this as I go to sleep, thinking Nareta had a great time, but I had the most wonderful fuck a woman like me could ever have!” She rolled to face me and grabbed my mouth to hers, her tongue burrowing down my throat, as her hands gently caressed my wet cock.
Then she struggled to rise, and I jumped up, got some tissues for her at least, and then pulled her dress back down over her body, with a last kiss to each nipple before I covered them. She stumbled a few steps, smiled back at me, and I saw her to the gate, where she made a ‘silent’ sign to me and walked/laboured her body up my street.
I washed the mat, showered quickly, and went to sleep with a smile on my face, and a final twitch of a worn-out cock.
The next day, unsurprisingly, I slept late, not even hearing my wife go off to work, though she had to walk past my naked body on my mattress; I was rightly tired.
But I soon woke at a loud pounding at the door and a male voice speaking calmly but forcefully through the open window – a window which didn’t hide my nakedness lying there; “Let us in, or you will be more sorry.”
It was English, with a strong accent, but certainly it brooked no refusal, so I pulled my shorts from the sofa behind me, struggled into them, and opened the door to 2 grown-up boys, and their looks and their accent now suggested they were the older sons of Raisa. Oh dear, what had she said/what did they know? I feigned innocence “Can I help you, do we know each other?”
One of the boys (as they were to me) sniggered “Our mother came home from here last night. We weren’t asleep, and when we saw her, she looked fucked! She didn’t say anything, but she had a piece of paper with your address on it, so I guess it was you who put his cock in her.”
The other son chimed in “Now, we want to show you what happens to men like you in our country…” They were beside me, 2 of them, and in unison, they stripped my shorts off, exposing me in naked fear. One grabbed my cock and began feeling its length; “Not so big” he said to his brother, who walked around to my arse and spread my cheeks; “Pretty small body everywhere it seems; however could he satisfy our mother?”
Despite my fear, my cock was responding to the hand groping it, and it began to grow; the boy holding it said “Ah” and stretched my cock, only adding to its feelings and thus its length and size. “Well, perhaps, it is big enough; I have to admit, he is bigger even now than any male in our family – perhaps that is why Mum wanted it.”
“So, what do we do with him now?” his brother asked, a finger probing the hole of my arse. His brother replied “Stick your cock in him, while I pound his mouth with mine.”
They did as said, but it was almost uneventful for me: they both had small dicks that I could hardly feel, and though I feigned excitement, they were done within minutes and slopped out. I almost laughed – but that might have been a little dangerous!
“Now you have been warned: if you don’t want more pain like that, stay away from our mother, understood?” I nodded vigorously, having remained silent since they arrived.
They pulled up their pants, glared at me, and left. After they had disappeared, I almost laughed, but contained that behind a smile: a gay rape and assault had just occurred, but I would need a better fuck and a bigger prick in my mouth to consider it even noteworthy.
I wondered when Raisa would be back…but, in fact, she was on the phone 5 minutes later “Oh Steve, I am sorry, are you ok?”
I actually laughed “Raisa, their dicks are so little I didn’t feel a thing! Don’t worry, you just be more careful, ok!”
I showered the sex away, yet again, cleaned my teeth, made my morning coffee, watched BBC News, and drove to the supermarket for my weekly shopping duties.
I had my list, so I whizzed up and down the required aisles, only delaying where there was multiple choice and I studied price/quantity/quality and my own preference, mentally calculating which was best for me to choose.
A female voice in my ear, and a female body pressed embarrassingly close to my rear, startled me; “Can you feel who it is, Luong Steve? You have looked at my body many times, perhaps you know.”
They were medium-sized breasts pushing into my back for sure, so not as big as Nareta’s or Raisa’s, and the voice was not that of my shopkeeper’s daughter, nor one I instantly recognized, and it was emitting fumes of alcohol into my face; who else was there? Then a suggestion came to my mind: it sounded like the shopkeeper from right next door to my house! Not the one I drank at every afternoon, but my closest neighbor on the left side = right next door!
“Toi, is that you? What are you doing?”
“I have been to lunch, we had a few beers and whiskies, but I left to come shopping, but I am drunk and I can’t even see the shopping to buy anything. Then I saw your arse, and I knew it was you!”
“You have a beautiful arse, Khun Steve! I have wanted it for, like, ever!” She pressed against me, but more for bodily support than bodily contact. I quickly reviewed my list and what I had and hadn’t bought: I only needed milk and bread, other items not absolutely required this week. I put Toi to the handle of my trolley and I walked beside it, keeping her straight, the 2 items loaded, and I steered us to the check-out and willed her to remain quiet as I paid, they packed – into as few plastic bags as I insisted – and then we wheeled the trolley down the ramp to the parking area.
Toi was almost asleep, and I had no choice but to support her on my shoulder to my car, open the passenger door, give her body an unintentional good feel everywhere as I struggled to place her upright in her sight, and buckle her seatbelt. I quickly loaded my shopping into the boot, and got in, started the car, tuned my Pink Floyd music down low (not how I like it!) and reversed out of the lot after buckling my own seat belt.
Toi was falling over as I turned the corners of the parking aisles and headed for the Exit; I gave up on her seat belt and paused to unbuckle it on the side of the exit road, grabbed a towel and small pillow I always carried in the back seat, and gently laid her head across the space between us, on to the pillow, onto my left leg.
By the time we arrived at her shop/home/my home, her hand was lying on a throbbing cock in my shorts; as I began to pull up to somehow get her inside her own house, I noticed it was her estranged husband who appeared to be taking care of the shop while the true manager/owner, Toi, was having a rare lunch off.
I felt sorry for her – had often felt sympathy for her in fact – and thought letting her separated/divorced (I didn’t know) husband see her drunk like this was not a nice thing to do; so I parked as usual at my own house, quietly opened the rear hatch and pulled out my shopping bags, opened the gate wide, the front door, turned on the fan and made my bed/mattress ready.
Then I waited a few minutes until he had a customer, opened the passenger door, and bustled Toi out; mostly carrying her into my house, trying to gently lay her on the mattress on the floor. Her arm was around my neck, and it didn’t let go, but pulled me down with surprising strength, and I had no choice but to be lying on top of her along her body. She said “Thank you, Steve” and I knew, then, she wasn’t as drunk as she appeared; and I certainly knew when she drew my head down and kissed me hard on the lips for a long time; but she was drunk enough that she then fell fast asleep.
I uncurled myself, took off my ‘going out’ shirt, changed into my home shorts, and quietly closed the screen door and window blinds, unpacked and stored the groceries, and got a beer from the fridge’ I sat in my sofa chair, looking down at Toi, this woman with whom my wife and her family had some dispute and never spoke with, nor bought from, for years now, 5-6 perhaps.
By contrast, she and I were always polite to each other, and though I didn’t buy much from her, if I needed something: I walked next door and bought from Toi. I did also stare at her; she was not young, perhaps 45, no kids I knew – perhaps that was the problem with her husband, but that I didn’t know; she had medium breasts, but clad in tight pants/jeans - never a dress - she had very wide hips and a deep crease up her arse and cunt from those tight pants she wore habitually: yes, I looked, but she never gave any indication she fancied me.
Ironic I suppose: hers was a lonely existence, as was mine; I thought her husband had another girl, as my wife had another boy; she wasn’t very busy in her shop and I was never very busy in my house; I had a car and she didn’t, and we could have gone out after she closed her shop at 22.30 every night: if I had known perhaps she wanted, and I guess if she had thought I also wanted.
So, a few alcoholic drinks too much, a chance sighting in the supermarket, and here she was on my bed – well, my mattress/bed, on the floor inside my house. Now what was I to do?
What I did was set the fan direction, clean my teeth, wash my face, and lie down on the floor mat beside her, reading my book for 3-4 minutes – a ritual of mine before sleeping – and closed my eyes.
When I woke an hour later, she had gone.
I was making a coffee and sandwich when Azra came to the door. “Sheera has gone out, and I wanted to come and be with you alone, is that ok, Luong Steve?” She sounded desperate and hopeful, perhaps even unsure yet determined: all at the same time it seemed, as I looked at her flushed face and heard her words. I smiled to calm her and motioned her in, asked if she wanted a bite to eat, or a drink, and she took a glass of cool water.
I ate my sandwich sitting in my chair, Azra on the sofa, sipping her water. She took a deep breath and said “Today I want that orgasm, please; I need to know what it is, and I need to know today, please.” She needed to repeat herself, but I leaned over, put a gentle hand to her mouth and smiled at her; “I understand Azra, it’s ok, and my promises still stand: I won’t hurt you, and it won’t take your virginity.”
“Oh that! I don’t care anymore about my virginity, after Sheera talked to me; just don’t hurt me please.” Taken aback, I managed to at least respond “Never”.
But we were interrupted – second time – when Azra heard her sister’s voice as she got off and paid a motorcycle taxi, and entered her gate opposite. Azra squeaked “What do I do now? I am supposed to be home doing my homework….”
I gave her a hug, went to my fridge and took flavoured milk and gave it to her; “A small lie: tell your sister you felt like drinking milk and went to the shop. Is that ok to say?” She now hugged me, smiled and ran out the door to her shoes, then crept out the gate, across the road, and into her own courtyard.
I finished my coffee peacefully when I didn’t hear any yelling from Azra’s house. Azra would be back sometime, and probably Sheera too.
I watched BBC News, had my shower and washed my hair, shaved, cleaned my teeth, fresh clothes, and rode my back around the corner to read my book and enjoy a quiet beer. One bottle later, I headed inside to the toilet, needing to relieve my bladder; the door was pushed to, but not closed or locked, so I entered. Ming jumped a little, as did I, but she smiled as she sat down again on the toilet, and so I unzipped my pants and pointed my cock into the urinal to her left.
I glanced at her, but she was busy, and noisily emptying her own bladder, so I left her to hers, and emptied my own.
Ming said, still sitting there “You are not embarrassed, we are in here together?”
“No, Ming; you had to go, and I had to go; one toilet, and I need thank you for not locking the door – because I needed to go fast!”
“There is another toilet and bathroom – 2 in fact – upstairs, I will show you after, so if this one is locked, Luong Steve, you can always feel free go upstairs, if you need hurry.”
“Ok, thank you Ming.” I was about to say more, but Ming just then put the hose nozzle close to her cunt and washed herself, and so I shook my dick of its last drops as she wiped some paper up and down her slit, and we both went to the sink to wash hands. It had been such a sharing minute, I felt quite relaxed leaning across to kiss her lightly on each cheek; no words required, and then she turned her mouth to mine, and the kiss became one of lips meeting, and passion shown one to the other.
We broke apart, my old man self as shy as a teenager after his first kiss, and Ming took my wet hand in her own, and led me out of the toilet, through the adjoining door and into the house proper – where I had never been – and up the stairs to the sleeping level.
She led me, still by the hand, into a bedroom, and across to show me a bathroom. My glances at the bedroom walls and the stuffed toys and posters told me this was actually Ming’s bedroom, and thus her bathroom, where she pointed and said “You can use this one anytime you need, Luong Steve.
I smiled at her, “Ming, if I am in your bedroom, and you are inviting me to use your bathroom – I think you can drop the ‘Uncle’ and just call me Steve, ok.”
She had always been somewhat shy around me, generally refusing to speak English (a Thai person’s innate fear of making a mistake) but now she blushed as she said “Ok Steve; do you need go to the toilet again? I need have a shower and go to bed soon…”
Was that an invitation to watch, or to go to bed…? I had showered and everything just before coming here, but a clean of my teeth would be nice – if I was to stay, so I quickly said “Do you have some toothpaste I could use Ming, please; my breath must smell of beer and cigarettes!”
She smiled and gave me a new toothbrush and her toothpaste, and I cleaned them over her sink, even using some of her Listerine for added freshness; she said “If you want to wait a little, Steve, we can talk some more…” ‘Ok, Ming, I will just sit on your bed, and wait for you to be ready.”
When she emerged, her normal pyjamas were missing, and she was naked as she walked across to her bed, and to me, patting closed my gaping mouth as she passed, and holding my chin as she led me to turn and follow her up further on the bed, motioning for my clothes to be gone. They were, and I climbed under the duvet with her, and felt her body for the first time (apart from the earlier kiss). I had to hold those breasts for the first time, and I said “Ming, I am sorry, but I must tell you: I have wanted to hold your body, your breasts, for years now! They are so beautiful, Ming; you must be proud to have them – though I guess you have a lot of ‘dirty old men’ lust after them…just like me! Sorry.”
She rolled on her side facing me, kissed me lightly on the lips, and smiled “I know you have looked, but you never look bad - like some of the men, Steve; I always knew I could trust you: it was just waiting until I felt the time was right. Before, in the toilet downstairs…I felt now was the time.”
Then we talked for a long time; Ming’s mother and father were separated, and her mother was a dominant lesbian (so far, I knew all this) but for Ming and her older brother, their parents loved them the same, and indeed their Mum and dad were still good friends, and I knew her father as he came regularly to stay 1-2 days, tidied up the shop much better than Tim, and his visits gave Tim a chance for a night off with friends or something.
Ming carried on talking, through occasional kisses to me, and I to her; I held her breasts lightly in my hands, just as gently let my fingers play with her nipples, but I was listening to her, knowing she wanted to talk. My cock was rigid, and she felt it sometimes also, but it was a physical, natural response of my body to her presence – but, ironically, not an emotional one, and I felt no need to try and be inside her: I just listened.
She had been with a boy once, she said, but it was rushed and she didn’t really enjoy anything about it; perhaps following her mother’s preference, she found greater satisfaction and enjoyment, perhaps even love, with some of her girl friends. (This I had suspected: Ming was like a member of the boys’ club, her male friends or her brother’s older friends, but it never appeared sexual or as if one of them was any closer to her than a friend; but with some girls she patted their thighs, talked much more animatedly, sat very close…it just seemed more natural for her, and I saw this from sitting and drinking my few metres away.)
“But I honestly don’t know what I am, what I want to be, or what I really want.” She said this with a sigh, and I stroked her cheek as I replied “That is not an uncommon concern, my little Ming; many people are not sure who they are, or who they will become. Trust an old man: let your Life develop as it will, don’t force it this way or that, something will tell you the direction to take.”
I laughed quietly, “Of course, a man on the edge of his 4th failed marriage is not an ideal person to take advice from. But, I am not talking about partners/husbands/wives: I am talking about your whole Life, and though it might have taken me many years, what I said to you a minute ago, is truly how I feel these days: we can’t force ourselves in a direction, we have to accept where the ‘something’ directing us points us.”
Unexpectedly, Ming rolled almost on top of me, kissing me lustily, and then pausing to say “Oh, Luong Steve, you have said exactly what I have been feeling – but I couldn’t say it out loud like you just did! You are amazing!”
I smiled, almost up at her, as her heavy body pressed down on me, her heavy breasts arousing me even if we were engaged in a serious conversation…Ming said “Sorry, Steve – can I say that? – my direction is now pointing me towards downstairs to make some food; I am hungry, is that ok?”
Now I laughed loudly, “Yes, Ming, that is ok, and dropping the ‘Luong’ is also fine; I have also noticed you cannot wait long between meals, but – if you will forgive me – I also think you should exercise a little more, to balance the intake.”
She now rolled fully on top, lifting her hips and plopping her cunt down on my pole of a cock; “You mean exercise like this, Steve?” And she proceeded to fuck me vigorously and for quite a while, until we were both slick and wet from sweat, and until I had to tell her the climax was to arrive, and indeed she thrust down, stayed there with me buried and she throbbed her cunt as she came then, moments before I pulsed my own juice upwards into her.
“Oh, I must have lost a kilo for sure, just in sweat” Ming heaved, “But now I am even hungrier!” I chuckled “First thing after sex you think of food? Well, I think of ice-cream - or cream anyway” and I pulled out, burrowed down her body with kisses plastering her breasts and nipples first, ensuring I could gasp some air as I was still flattened under her, and then began slurping my juice and her creamy fluids from her dripping cunt. I licked my flattened tongue from bottom to top, then narrowed my tongue to a point and ferreted my way inside her, gouging out all the fluids I could for several minutes, until she was clean and mostly dry. “Oh my, you do that better than even my girlfriends, Steve; we should not have waited so long for this, should we?”
I crawled my way to her side, out into the open, rose up to her face and kissed her lips lovingly, “No, we shouldn’t have Ming. Food time” I said, as I slipped from her body and tottered out of her bed. I dressed, knowing I would shower at home, and Ming had a quick wash in her bathroom, before donning her pyjamas; she brushed her hair, and then, surprisingly and domestically, brushed mine for me. I smiled as she did this, held her breasts lightly, and kissed her as she stood in front of me.
We went downstairs then, and I was a little shy to find her mother doing the late shift in the shop; normally it was Ming’s brother, as Tim usually headed for the shower and went to bed a little earlier, so Mick must be out tonight. But Tim was her normal self, and she had even put my unfinished bottle in the ice box to keep it cool for me.
I thanked her, (looking, but not finding, any condemnation in her tone or eyes), put more ice in my glass and lit a cigarette, sitting at my table, hearing Ming chopping and cooking in the kitchen.
She appeared with a bowl and a plate of food, hesitated, then smiled at me but turned and sat next to her Mum at the other table. No problem, I thought, and I just looked at her as she ate and watched the TV, surreptitious glances over at me.
I finished my beer, wandered over to pay Tim, bade them both good night, mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Ming, and smiled my way home. I ignored my sticky body’s need for a shower, cleaned my teeth, and lay down with my book for 2 minutes before falling asleep, the smells and memories of being with Ming comforting me into a relaxed slumber.
I woke the next morning, wife gone, showered, cup of coffee, caught up on BBC News, and logged on my computer to check my emails. One from my younger brother, with whom I didn’t share eye-to-eye on most subjects, some spam, one from my niece in Bali.
My niece was also on YM when I checked there, so we chatted for a while, then I had to pause to hang the washing out when the machine musically told me it was ready.
Dana peeked around the corner from her house to mine, smiled at me hanging out the washing and said “Hi Luong Steve. Can I ask a favour?”
“If I can help Dana, sure; I told you I would…”
An hour later she was in my car, in the back seat – away from airbags – as I drove her to see her doctor.
I noted her abdomen seemed to have grown considerably in just a few short days/week or so, and I realized I had not asked her before, our last time together, how many months she was, only guessing 5-6; “8” she replied now, “and I feel so big!” I smiled into the mirror and she saw me, and smiled back a little; “You are a pregnant lady, Dana, it is natural; don’t worry, you have blossomed and bloomed like a spring flower – truly.”
She blushed “You are a nice, kind man, Steve; thank you, even if it is not true: my belly is huge, my ankles are swollen; my tits are so big I can’t bend down over them even! And I find it so hard to reach up to wash my hair; I can’t stand the smell of make-up, so I know I look ugly and terrible!”
She began to cry, and I shushed her for a long minute, “Dana, it is just being pregnant, trust me; my 2 sons in Australia – I told you before: I can never forget about pregnancy worries, even if they are now mid-20s’ boys.”
She needed a tissue, so I reached behind me for the box in my car and stretched to hand it to her; looking at the road in front, yet twisted and stretching to my side to hand her the box, I found my arm gliding up her leg, pushing her dress in front of me. I stopped moving, but she placed her hand on mine and drew it further upwards, until the box was taken away by her other hand, and she placed my hand on her cunt, and then up to her abdomen, and the baby kicked right then!
She looked into the mirror, and met my eyes: “I told you the baby likes having you around to protect me and make me safe and happy…”
I had to return my attention to the road, so I slowly pulled my hand away back to the wheel; soon after we were at Dana’s hospital, perhaps 15 minutes from our houses, and I let her out, promising to come find her after I had driven around the back and parked the car.
Inside, I found I had suddenly become the surrogate father, and the nurse said as I asked about Dana “She has been waiting for you, follow me!”
She led me into the examination room, and Dana reached quickly for my hand, as the nurse poured gel onto her abdomen and the Doctor rubbed the ultrasound paddle in the gel, and began roving over her. I leaned down close to Dana’s ear to say in a whisper “Dana, I shouldn’t really be here! This should be private for you.”
She had tears in her eyes as she looked up to my face; “I don’t have anyone else, Steve: please!”
She gripped my hand strongly, and I knew then I would do anything she required to help her through the end of her pregnancy; after…I couldn’t know.
I tightened my own grip; “I am here for you Dana” and I looked at the monitor as the Doctor asked “Do you this time want to know the sex of your baby?” Dana looked at me and asked “Do you think I should, Steve?”
“I never knew my boys were boys or girls until they were born; it is a magical moment Dana…but entirely up to you.” She shook her head at the Doctor “No, just tell me if the baby is healthy please.”
The Doctor smiled and continued his examination; when he handed the paddle to the nurse, he faced Dana and said “Yes, your baby has developed healthily – but further along than we thought: I expect within 2 weeks you will give birth; let’s finish here and go and talk more.”
Another hour later, Dana was asleep along the back seat as I drove home. The Doctor had counseled her as to what might/probably would happen very soon, and what she must do. I sat listening, feeling as any good father should – except I wasn’t the Father! But the Doctor and Nurses treated me as if I was, as did Dana, and I didn’t know how to extricate myself from the situation without upsetting Dana… The Nurse said to me “See you soon, when the baby is born!” I smiled: what else could I do, having promised Dana I would help…
I parked at my house, gently woke Dana, and helped her into her house, opening the gate and then the door after she had handed me the keys. It was very – well: very domesticated…a worry.
She wanted to go and lie on the floor, on a mattress the same as I had in my house: “I am too heavy to walk up the stairs to bed, anymore; I just sleep here – though it is hard to get down and up again. Can you help me take off this dress, Steve; it feels too tight.” I lifted it over her head after undoing the buttons down the back, and folded it, placing it on the sofa behind; “Oh, I think my nightie is here somewhere, but no matter – can you just indo my bra, and then I will feel comfortable, and go to sleep, and you can go home, Steve.”
I hesitated, my cock twitched, but I did as asked, and her growing breasts spilled out as she sighed in relief: no wonder, it wasn’t the right size, and it had made red, tight marks around her back and under her breasts! Gosh, I felt so sorry for her: no-one to care for her, shop for her/go shopping with her, give her a little pleasure; no-one to even help her shower and wash her hair.
It was up to me, it seemed, so I accepted my new, added role in Life as a good Neighbour, and I would help Dana through these next weeks and through the birth; after that, I hoped her boyfriend – the baby’s father – and her own family would be enchanted enough with a newborn they would help her.
(Just over 2 weeks later, Dana - with my attendance beside her throughout – gave birth to a healthy baby girl. I was her only helper, her only visitor in hospital; I took them home, helped her through those first days of anxiety, of crying, nappies, feeding, bathing…and indeed, I told my wife what I had been and was doing, so I slept in Dana’s house for the first 2 weeks, and rarely left her side or the baby’s, who I quickly formed a bond with.
Her family did not appear for the first month, during which time I had my first sex while suckling of lactating breasts, a fantasy of mine fulfilled…but all this is another story….)
Azra popped her head in later. She was slightly breathless, “Can I come and see you tonight, Luong Steve? I have to, please: I am going crazy waiting…”
I smiled at her and nodded my head “Calm down Azra; you come when you can, after you see me come home from having a beer ok.” She sighed and ran out and across the street to her house.
My 13y.o. neighbor returned quite late that night; my wife was already showered and asleep, I was watching TV. “Azra sneaked inside almost, sat on the floor, and whispered “Is it ok, Luong Steve? My parents are at work, Sheera is on the phone with boys I think.”
She took a deep breath “I want an orgasm, Steve. I can’t stop thinking about it, and my vagina has been dripping wet, so I have had to keep changing and washing my panties, and my breasts tingling so much, they are uncomfortable in my bra and even in my shirt or dresses; I am going crazy thinking about it!”
I caressed her face gently, and leaned over to brush my lips to her forehead, down her pert nose, and a light touch to her lips.
She was probably expecting me to stop there, but I placed a hand to her cheek as my mouth gave her feathery touches down to her neck, around to her earlobe, and then down again to gently burrow inside her loose t-shirt to her collar bone and shoulder.
She shuddered, more so when I allowed my free hand to glide over her shirt, finding no bra to interrupt a clasp of one small breast; only the thin material of her shirt, and it couldn’t stop her long nipples from thrusting out, seeking my fingers it seemed.
Azra couldn’t stand the friction, and she halted me momentarily while she roughly pulled off her shirt over her head and flung it aside; she had shorts on, and her cunt must have been on fire as she struggled to free herself of the shorts as well.
With no panties on, she was now naked beside me, and any inhibitions had been cast aside with her clothes; her small hand grasped the rigid cock in my shorts, and she motioned for them to be gone; I obliged, and we were both free of the bondage of clothes.
I moved over on my mattress, and gently pulled her beside me, my right arm under head head, stroking her smooth, bare back, while my left roamed down and up, over the mound of her raised hip, and over the mound of her young breast. Azra understood we were exploring, and she had her hand caressing down my chest, but quickly went for her destination: my throbbing, flapping cock, jerking between us, hitting her body and smearing pre-cum as it bobbed elsewhere – until she grasped it within her hand and just held it: her first cock in hand.
But I moved up, pulled her light, lithe body to the centre of the mattress, laid her flat on her back, and straddled her, without sitting down, and my arms to her sides, looking down into her eyes; she was panting as I lowered my head down and my lips to hers. Azra sighed, and I slowly let my body down on top of hers: my chest against her little breasts with their large erect nipples; my cock finding its own way in between her thighs, without trying to enter her. She gasped into my mouth, but I answered her unspoken question without prompting “I am not going inside you with my ‘cock’ Azra, so that promise I will keep, and I will not hurt you, so my second promise will be kept: I promise.”
I kissed my way down her whole body, all over again, sliding my own along hers, rubbing her nipples hard between us, my hands groping down her sides alone the contours of her ribs and abdomen and hips, until I could lift her hips up, arching her a little, to meet my mouth descending to touch her cunt for the first time.
She emitted little squeaks and groans, shuddered and both tried to roll away and tried to force herself up to my mouth more. My mouth was relentless, my lips clung to her, and she lay down and let me continue.
Her outer lips hiding her tunnel were puffy even now, and though yet to reach full womanhood, Azra was leaking juice and her blood was engorging those lips the more I licked and sucked on them. I opened her, clearing the way for me to probe her inner lips and to find her clitoris, hooded but erecting even as I looked and licked and sucked.
I curled my tongue a little, and pushed slowly within her; she came immediately, moaning out “In the name of heaven...what is happening?” I sucked her juice, now pouring out, and then removed my tongue to smile and answer her “This is your first orgasm, my young Azra; but it will not be your last...” I spread her legs wider with my hands, and then snuggled my hands between our bodies and up to her breasts, while my mouth cupped her whole vagina and sucked, and my tongue now burrowed back inside her canal.
As a young girl, a slim girl, and as a virgin, Azra was naturally tight; but she was also very horny (what a woman she will become I thought, one who will enjoy sex I had almost no doubt) and her cunt was being lubricated so that my tongue could slide in and out without friction, but with enough width and length to rub her clit back and forth, and far enough to reach the barrier of her hymen – well, about where I expected to find a hymen, but in fact, I just kept being able to stretch even further within her tunnel!
Azra giggled above me, “I asked you not to take my virginity, but I took it myself with Sheera’s help; and now I am asking you to ‘fuck’ me, Luong Steve.”
I was quite astounded, not least because she and her sister had clearly planned this together, and now I was being asked to penetrate her freshly-virginal cunt, and fuck her, her first man. I tried to be a gentleman, and care for the needs of women...so I removed my tongue and gently immersed my cock inside the sucking hole Azra had invited me to enter.
She also sucked the breath into her mouth, lifted her hips to me, and moaned as she had her second orgasm, her fluids pushing against the invading prick and I felt like a salmon swimming upstream. She was incredibly free-flowing with her climaxes, and I slurped my cock slowly deeper into her, feeling her nipples grow in my fingers as I buried my face into the crook of her neck and lightly bit her, and felt now my cock hitting a barrier within her.
Some inches of my rod remained outside, my width stretching her cunt lips wide and massaging her clit, but clearly she wasn’t yet ready for deep thrusts from my modest length, so I didn’t try and didn’t cause her any pain beyond that of a first fuck. I did slide out to my head, and pushed in slightly faster, and she shuddered again, and clenched my buttocks with her fingers and her nails gouged me as she pulled my body down with all her strength.
I felt this had been enough for her first time, so I let my cock remain inside her, my own control sorely tested as my sperm-less semen was churning in my balls wanting to gush outside and into her, but I hadn’t told her she couldn’t get pregnant from me (though I had told Sheera) and now was not the time to begin such explanations, nor the time to interrupt the beauty of these moments for her – and for me.
So we laid there, though I rolled to the side, easing my cock out, and my weight off her; but able to then lower my mouth back to her breast, and one hand to stroke up and down her spine and all over her back. She was so smooth, my hand just glided across her skin, and my mouth similarly swallowed the sweet, smooth flesh of her mounded breast and nipple: but all very gently, the urgency of love-making replaced by tenderness.
A car pulling up outside disturbed Azra, so we parted and she peered over my sofa chair: not her father’s car, she motioned to me, but the spell was broken, and she quickly put her shorts on, followed by her shirt, as I just watched her body transform into a covered 13y.old’s. She sank down to the floor and kissed me, deeply, and then lingeringly, before breaking away and saying “Thank you, Steve; I will always treasure this moment as the jewel of my sex life.” I kissed her then, and nodded, no more words to say, but she turned at the door to say “You never broke your promises, Luong Steve.”
I slept but I dreamed before I fell fitfully asleep: how many women have I had the pleasure of fucking recently...I had almost lost count, but if they all chose to repeat their visits, I was a doomed man: not only because my wife was bound to find out (and I needed her goodwill to be able to stay here, in Thailand) but mainly because I doubted my body could maintain such physical exertion!
It was time for a ‘time out’, and there was Dana, and the baby, who was now going to take up more of my time and energy... my phone beeped: a message:
‘Steve, I will be going shopping with Raisa tomorrow; then I will come to your house.’
It was Nareta’s number; no ‘please’ or ‘thank you’: just a command. Perhaps the ‘time out’ widea was a little premature...
I messaged back: “See you then, Nareta”....