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Singapore Girl #1
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
SINGAPORE GIRL
Part 1 of 7.
They say a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. But I can't claim
to be a gentleman. Besides, all bets are off when the woman --
But that comes later.
And -- oh, yes -- this is a true story. Really happened. Only
her name has been changed. Not to protect her -- she did not need
protection -- but to keep my ass out of court.
I met June (not her real name) in a Laundromat in the
Village. I had seen her there a few times and couldn't help
noticing. For one thing, she was female and most of the clientele
was male and, well, lets say not interest in women.
June was decidedly female. She was only about five feet tall,
with jet black hair in a pageboy cut framing a rounded, pretty
face. Her black eyes, behind her eyeglasses, were wide for an
oriental and if there was a fault to her face, it was that her lips
were a bit too generous and lush. Some fault, huh?
Anyway, about a five minute chat, June asked me for help
with one of the dryers. I've got a knack for mechanical things
and I was glad to have a way to get closer to her.
She was wearing a light windbreaker, half-unzipped, over a
loose white blouse and a pair of spray-on jeans. Her boots were a
half-heel style that wasn't flat and wasn't high-spiked. She had a
cute ass, but the way she carried herself, for all her perkiness
and cuteness, wasn't inviting; businesslike.
June was, I would learn, very forthright in almost every
way. "I've had trouble with these machines before."
She slapped the dryer and laughed. She had a great laugh.
She laughed again. As I said -- a great laugh.
In the course of conversing, between the two of us, we found
some excuse for me to come back to her place for drinks. I arrived
at ten p.m., hoping -- for she had a gorgeous ass.
June occupied the entire third and fourth floors of a
brownstone on Greenwich Avenue, not far from Tenth Street. In the
sitting room on the fourth floor, over white wine on wall-lining
sectionals, listening to some soft rock, she explained that she was
the New York office of a Scandinavian import-export firm. About
half of the third floor was offices -- she had her teletype and
phones and files there -- and the rest of the third floor was a
formal dining/conference room, a half-bath and a kitchen. The
fourth floor, in addition to the living room, had a television
room, a bedroom and a full bathroom.
We got more at ease with each other. I learned she was ethnic
Chinese, from Singapore, and had lived in Connecticut when she
first came to the United States. Before that, she'd lived in
Scandinavia for a few years, trying to improve her position with
the ex-im firm she'd joined in Singapore. I learned a little bit
about how tough it was to be new to America and alone, even with
the advantages of a legitimate working visa and deep-pocketed
financial backing.
Soon we were snuggled together under a blanket on the
sectional -- as with all Village apartments, the heat was
inadequate; I think it's a law in New York -- and then we were
cuddling and then we were kissing. Her lips were as warm and moist
as I'd imagined, and her kisses were just the right combination of
passion and sweetness. Soon, she was straddling my thigh as we
clinched and I could feel her moisture through her jeans and mine.
I unbuttoned her blouse and mouthed her breasts through her bra.
She was decidedly Chinese in that her tits were shallow and firm,
with nipples that responded slowly -- but when they did, they were
outstanding! I raised the bra to get at her bared breasts and she
ran her hands through my hair as I licked and sucked at her tits.
"Let's go to bed," she said. "Here, since I have to send a
Telex at four-thirty this morning."
Forthright and businesslike, op. cit.
I agreed -- of course! -- but little did I suspect what would
come next: June proceeded to prepare for bed as if she'd known me
fore years. You probably know the routine: remove the make-up, take
a shower (in her case, a shallow bath), etc.
I was somewhat at a loss for what to do, so I hung around
and watched it. All of it. (Well, almost all; even June didn't
want to be watched doing Some Things.) As the make-up came off, so
did the determined businesswoman face. She looked younger than her
twenty-eight years; maybe twenty or twenty-one.
But believe me, when she came to bed, it was worth the wait.
She came into the bedroom wearing a robe and a flannel nightgown.
(Remember: no heat.)
"Why are you dressed?" she asked, and quickly removed the
robe -- and only the robe -- and slipped into the bed. She threw
back the coverlet, comforter and sheet to expose half of the
(queen-size) bed and patted the pillow. "Come on -- or did you
change your mind?"
I knelt on the bed, straddling her thighs, and laid myself upon
her from above the covers as lightly as possible and began kissing
her again. In moments, she was stripping off my turtleneck sweater
and undershirt and fumbling with my belt. Every now and then, she'd
caress my balls and my cock through my jeans and she'd squirm.
I slid to the end of the bed, stood and stripped -- and then I
wormed my way under the covers, licking and kissing and nibbling as
I went. I didn't bother removing her nightgown; I simply pushed it
up to her waist. I grabbed her hips and pulled her firm ass to the
edge of the mattress.
Kneeling on the wide-planked pine floor I began to eat her.
She shivered when I licked the insides of her thighs, and I could
smell the sweet, healthy, lusty aroma of her cunt juices long
before I reached it. I slid my hands under her ass, cupping her
hard cheeks and lifting her towards my mouth. I dove in.
Through the muffling of the blanket, I could hear her shrieks
match her writhing as she came. And came. And CAME! Her juices
weren't merely sufficient or ample; they were copious! She flowed
and flowed and flowed.
(Note: Some people will tell you that all oriental women are
bald Down There. Not true. A few are, completely. Some have only
sparse hair. But all have this in common -- in my experience --
What hair there is, is straight, fine and soft.)
When I finally came up for air, the sheets were soaked, her
cunt hair was soaked and my beard was soaked.
June lay there and panted -- massaging her tits and rubbing
her nipples.
"Nobody ever did that before!"
"No one ever ate that gorgeous cunt of yours?" I couldn't
believe that.
"Oh, sure," she said, "like it was a favor -- but you seem to
enjoy it!"
"I love to eat you!" I said. "It turns me on -- a lot!"
She paused, gripping her nipples. "I -- I want to suck you..."
I heard the hesitation in her voice and took a guess. "It's
not your favorite thing, is it?"
She hesitated; that answered me.
"Don't worry about it," I said, pulling the covers back the
rest of the way. Her nightgown was gone, removed and discarded at
some point when my attention was concentrated far south. "What I
want to do right now is fuck you."
She lay there, fingers clenching her nipples, and seemed to
tense all over -- and then she shivered, unmistakably cumming.
"Ooooooo -- I like it when you talk dirty to me. What are you
going to do?"
I reached down and lifted her legs till they were on my
shoulders. I was standing bare on the floor beside the bed.
Remember: Her sweet, hot ass was at the edge of the bed.
I leaned forward, watching for any sign of discomfort. I
needn't have worried; she was very flexible. My posture forced her
legs back and her cunt higher. When my face was next to hers, I
locked my gaze on hers. Her lovely eyes were heavy-lidded with
lust. I reached down, took one of her hands in mine and lead it to
my cock. My dick is about six inches long (this is, after all, a true story)
and on the thick side. My cock was harder than it had ever been,
even with that seventeen-year-old Homecoming Queen from Ohio. She
grabbed and pulled on it, short strokes that told me of her hunger.
I bent farther and kissed her lips, then her breasts.
"What am I going to do?" I nipped her nipple lightly between
my teeth. She shivered again. "I'm going to fuck you!"
She was bent almost double, her thighs pressing her nipples,
when I introduced the head of my cock into her cunt. She shrieked
when I was halfway in; I slammed the rest of the way and ground our
pubic bones together and she came again.
"Say dirty things to me!" She gasped desperately.
I obliged as I fucked her. I don't pretend to be a great
lover; she was ready and eager to cum a great deal and she did,
over and over again. When I finally relaxed and let myself cum,
she was nearly inert -- except for her cunt -- and in a state of
constant orgasm. When I collapsed beside her, I knew I had found
someone special.
Little did I know that so far, June had been as conventional
as she ever got to be.
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