The first time we met his hair was tied back in a plait, and I was too busy with my own nerves to notice it properly. Which should indicate how tightly wound I was at the time. However while I don’t know if my erotic appreciation of people with a physically overt Asian heritage was in evidence in the time, it certainly received a substantial kick start when he opened the door.
“Hello,” he said and beamed. “I’m Colin, you must be Bob and Indigo. Come through, my wife Karen is in the lounge”
Introductions complete, we made the kind of small talk I had recently come to expect when I was about to engage in sex with a stranger. In the car coming over I had wondered if I’d ever get used to the churning in my stomach when Bob and I were on our way to meet someone new. However Colin and Karen proved to be far less disconcerting than the farm couple we met once and decided not to engage with. And far more everyday than the sophisticated swingers we’d met in Melbourne the first time we’d ventured out. We chatted about ordinary matters, Karen even offered to show us her prized Abyssinian cats. From time to time in the exchange I noticed Colin observing me with a knowing but kindly gaze. It was a far cry from glasses of wine and an experienced couple whisking us quickly into separate rooms, to have sex in a bewildering blur with someone I wasn’t even sure I wanted to have sex with.
When eventually Colin and I did move to separate rooms I was able to appreciate his skills first hand. He clearly knew I was nervous and took charge allowing us time to talk and touch, as he helped me undress.
“Would you like a massage Indie?” I nodded, wanting to be polite, to seem more comfortable than I was. “Thank you, that would be lovely.” How odd to be talking so politely to someone who would, before the evening ended, have penetrated me, ejaculated in or on me, perhaps applied his mouth and fingers to my vagina, my breasts and even my mouth. I was no virgin, but I felt far more awkward and virginal than I’d felt the first time I’d had sex.
He laid a towel on the bed and urged me to lay on my stomach. I felt the give of the bed and closed my eyes, quivering nervously as I felt the brush of an unfamiliar body – an unfamiliar penis and balls – across my thighs. The perfume of sandalwood curled across my nostrils as he knelt over me pouring the scented oil into his hand. I felt a single drip land at the base of my spine, a squelch as he rubbed his hands together, then they descended onto my skin.
Moving slowly he eased his way up my long back muscles to my shoulders and moulded his hands firmly back down again. Disconcertingly I felt his soft chubby penis and the skin of his rounded belly passing lightly across my buttocks as he rhythmically pushed out my flesh with his arms then pulled downward. By the time he had shifted lower and begun to cup and knead my buttocks my body was not only relaxed but electric sparks were starting to build.
The shift in energy in the room became palpable, I could hear a little catch in his breathing and the muscle between his legs grew. Adding more oil to his hands he began to stroke my sides, reaching under my body to catch the swell of my breasts, pulling my body firmly toward him on the downward stroke.With each crest, I felt the shaft grazing lightly across my flesh, the soft hairy bag between his legs sliding across my cleft.
His heavy plait swung across my arse as he moved, and from time to time he flicked the thick rope over his shoulder, where it rested momentarily before thudding across me again. Images of jungle cats pawing and mating filled my head as Colin’s fingers spread, flattening and furrowing my breasts, tugging the skin across my ribs, and flaring strongly across my hips, lifting me with each stroke.
Sitting back, turning his attention to my legs, he began to massage firmly behind my knees then gradually worked his hands into my inner thighs, thumbs pressing inward. When Colin’s fingers finally touched my vulva, a bolt of electricity shot through my belly. I moaned and opened my legs, lifting my hips upward. With the next stroke he buried his fingers smoothly into my wetness, his knuckles grazing the surface of my cunt as he curled them inside me. I shuddered in pleasure at the touch, pushed back as he removed them, then plunged into me again and again spreading heat and wetness with each stroke. Torn between wanting the fingering to continue and wanting his chubby swollen member to fill me, it was almost a relief when he grasped my hips and hoisted me back and upwards. My right hand reached awkwardly between my legs, feeling my slickness, opening myself further with my fingers, guiding him in.
“Well that was a bit ordinary.” Bob declared as he turned the car toward home. “Karen’s not really my type. I don’t know if I want to bother going again.” But this time I was the one who was insistent although I knew better than to express an outright interest in Colin. “They seemed quite friendly, and they live fairly close. There haven’t been any other offers to our ad. Maybe we could try them again in a couple of weeks, if no-one else turns up?”
This time we re-coupled easily, having first had a glass of wine and admired the felines in their breeding pens at the rear of the house. Colin had his hair tied back loosely in a ponytail, and it finally caught my attention as he preceded me into the bedroom, switching on a bedside lamp as he did so.
“Colin?’ He turned with a questioning expression at my tone. I hesitated, then screwed up my courage. “Could I? That is… would you mind?… Could I see your hair out?”
His round face crinkled. “Of course, I’ll just get changed first. Why don’t you slip your shoes off and sit on the bed?”
He rapidly stripped off his clothing, and I watched avidly until he stood in front of me naked. The bedside lamp sprayed golden light across his compact, rounded body. Reaching up he carefully removed the hair band and fanned his silky mane across his back and shoulders, turning so I could see. His hair was very long, curving to his waist in a thick dark sheet, heavy and aromatic. He invited me to touch, explaining that he’d washed it that morning. Awkwardly I stroked my fingers appreciatively through a length of fragrant silk.
“Oh! it’s so beautiful, can we leave it out?”
He chuckled and nodded, then pulled on an oriental style robe that completed the look perfectly. Then he parted my knees, drew in closer and began unbuttoning my dress, pausing to stroke, caress and suckle my flesh as it was incrementally revealed. In turn I smoothed his breasts, running my fingertips across his nipples, his belly and in passing his already rampant penis. Eventually his fingers opened me like a flower, and I convulsed in pleasure again at his touch.
Together we rearranged our bodies on the bed. I slid onto his lap, locking my legs around his waist as he sat upright on a pillow, looking to my culturally untutored eyes like a beautiful golden Buddha. We eased into a careful rhythm, mindful of his back, and as we moved the curtain of sweet smelling hair swung lightly. It brushed repeatedly across our joined limbs as I circled my hands across the smooth hairless folds of his belly and soft breasts, feeling imbued with a sense of timelessness as a white hot energy built around us again. My cunt danced joyfully on his cock, our coupling briefly taking on the air of a statue from an ancient temple brought to life, before coming to rest beneath that erotic fall of silken beauty…
To see the first entry in this series click on the following link – Hair Trigger.
To see the Historical Notes which are not at all joyous or appropriate for Masturbation Monday click on the link, or not as you wish.
And to see all the other, sexier incentives to masturbate click on the Masturbation Monday link below.