N’jaila’s Mailbag: Is Porn Sexist?

Many moons ago I got an interesting Ask in my tumblr. While this submission wasn’t actually a question so much as a person trying to BLOW MY MIND with their amazing logic. I thought I should share it.

romantic-love-letter-ideas“The porn industry is male dominated (made up primarily of male pornographers/film directors/producers/editors/casting directors) and is geared towards a straight male audience. Just because some women and some queer individuals consume pornographic content (much of which is becoming increasingly violent and aggressive, especially towards women) does not make it ‘feminist,’ or ‘ethical.'”

 

Continue reading “N’jaila’s Mailbag: Is Porn Sexist?”



These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

Sexy Holiday Gift Guide

Because you waited this long to go shopping and the parking lot at the mall can go fuck itself.

There’s only 7 days until Christmas and you still can’t think of the perfect gift, or you’re just a lazy sack of shit, either way you need presents  and you need them fast. FAST and SEXY- and there’s nothing more sexy than toys, lingerie and sex positive books. Continue reading “Sexy Holiday Gift Guide”



These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

Halloween Porno Double Feature!

As far as I'm concerned every crotch that isn't mine.

In honor of my favorite time of year, and let’s face it every fatty’s favorite time of year,

I found two porns that fit the mood. Now I’m usually not all that big on porn with chicks in it; every vagina looks like the sloppy blind cousin of the brain bug from Starship Troopers to me.  Just to have full disclosure I fast forwarded through the majority of genitals.

Continue reading “Halloween Porno Double Feature!”



These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

I Was On The Radio Ya’ll!

About a month or so ago I was a guest on the “All Night Long” Show.  They were nice enough to put the raw audio of the interview up on youtube so I can share with all of you.

ENJOY!

Videos after the jump

Continue reading “I Was On The Radio Ya’ll!”



These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

Film Erotica Worth Checking Out

So my trip to an actual movie premier last week has got me thinking about films.  I’ve taken a shit ton of classes on film, media theory and screen writing and all it really has amounted to was the worlds most impressive Netflix queue.   After talking with the wonderfully quirky Brittany Andrews about porn from a filmmaker’s perspective I started thinking about trying to review some porn/ erotica films that push the envelope and or deserve a little shine.

There’s a whole world of erotic film out there that so many people are ignoring. There is even an Independent Erotic Film Festival that is ONLY show casing films meant to titillate yet stimulate a little more than your erogenous zones.  There are good examples online as well as movies coming out that I’m interested it. Continue reading “Film Erotica Worth Checking Out”

These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

Erotic Short: Becoming His

My eyes were heavy and almost drunk with exhaustion, but sleep simply did not come. My mind was fully aware and ignoring my body’s fatigue. I wondered, is this what my mothers wedding night was like?

I took a deep breath and ran my tired eyes around the small hotel room. I wanted my brain to marinate in it. This is as close as a girl like me will ever get, I thought to myself. On any other night that thought would kill my soul just a little bit more, but tonight in this cramped Manhattan hotel room, I couldn’t be happier or more excited. Continue reading “Erotic Short: Becoming His”

These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

Porn with a Different Spin : The King of Wheelchair Porn

Just when you think you’ve seen every approach to market people having sex with each other, you come across something that really makes you think about the reason people choose to perform and produce porn in the first place.

When I went to Exxxotica New York last year I happened to meet a gentleman by the name of Lee.  A New York based producer and star of pornographic film.  While there were many men like him at the convention, he stuck out to many because in short, Lee is paralyzed and performs under the moniker Mr. Dick On Wheels Continue reading “Porn with a Different Spin : The King of Wheelchair Porn”

These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

Announcing N’jaila Rhee’s First Hardcore Feature Movie!!

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: 

N’jaila Rhee to star in Vivid Entertainment’s First BBW Feature “She’s Big in Japan”

New York , New York  – April  1, 2010 – Vivid Entrainment is moving in a new direction with a line of high quality HD adult movies targeted to men who love BBWs. The films will also mark the debut of exotic dancer and blogger N’jaila Rhee as an adult actress.

23-year-old Rhee has been blogging about sex and porn for over a year and finally decided to get in on the action.

“I’m sick of just sitting on it,” says Rhee pointing to her crotch, ” I might as well use it.”

She’s Big in Japan, will be the first interracial gang bang film to center around Asian male and African American talent.  The film co-stars, Blackie Chan, Keni Styles, Mr. Marcus , Hung Lo and even Rick Lee, who previously retired.

“I came out of retirement to be a part of this film because I really believed in the project, but more so because they paid me.” Says Lee.

Vivid hopes that film will be a success and open the market for more high production quality BBW porn, the company plans to market the films under the new Vivid More to Love brand.

“The success of these film will be a major boon to the company. We paid that blasian chick in kimchee and Godiva truffles.” explained Vivid Co-CEO Steven Hirsch.  ” I tried to tell her we could pay her in money and she could use the money to buy food, but she wouldn’t hear it.”

The first promotional shots of Rhee and her costars can be found on Vivid Entertainment’s website here.  For those interested in pre-ordering the film directly can check here and here.

N’jaila Rhee still writes for her own website BlasianBytch.com, but she is very seldom interesting.  She’s realized this so sometimes she flashes tit on Twitter.

Contact:

Vivid Entertainment
3599 Cahuenga Blvd. W.
Los Angeles, CA 90068
Phone: 323-845-4557
Fax:  323-436-2006

###

These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

Boys Vs Toys II

Stop thinking you are at war with an intimate object for your girl’s pussy, because I hate to break it to you but you already lost. Its her pussy, always has been and always will be. How she chooses to orgasm is up to her. There’s really no sense in fighting it. Vibrators are here to stay and they were your own invention.


The Battle that Rages Only in the Mind of Heterosexual Men

Part Two

Who’s Pussy Is This?

Masturbation happens its been happening since the evolution of complex sexual creatures. Humans do it, dolphins, chimps and a plethora of other animals.  Despite it being a completely natural and healthy occurrence thanks to those wacky repressed Victorians and a few bible verses most of the western world has shunned touching themselves. Continue reading “Boys Vs Toys II”

These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

Sweet Dreams Of You


I’m standing in a dark club, I’m wearing lingerie, black , red , lace and garters. My stockings feel soft against my skin. All around me there’s red, the velvet curtains lining the walls, my lipstick, the jewel on my neck and your tie. You’re wearing a black on black suit and the your bright red tie draws me to you.

Your smile inviting, I know who you are even from far away. My Chinese Oppa. The closer I get the easier it is to see your sun kissed skin. Deep eyes. Of course that seductive slight smile.

There are so many people that its hard to get to you, but when I finally do you take my hand and we walk to a private room. You sit on the red couch and ask me to dance for you on the single pole a few feet in front of you. You smile for me as I do my tricks and spins on the pole. I love your smile it make me feel rewarded.

I dismount the pole and I crawl to you. The carpet is soft like silky fur. I want more than anything in the world to please you. You take your cock out and I  kiss and tease it before taking it deep into my mouth. You’re moaning and I love it. The more you moan the more excited I get, the more excited I get the more enthusiastically and deep I suck you. Your moans are loud and your body is moving with the intense feeling ebbing, right before the big wave crash you run your hand through my hair. You grab a hand full of it and force my head back , you paint my lips and chin with your hot cum.

You tell me I’ve been a good girl.

You lie me on the couch and fuck me. Really no way to describe it – we are not making love, its too intense to just be sex. Your red tie is dangling in my face as you hold my knees to my ears.

You tell me you want to cum in all my holes. I beg you too.

Your cock is deeper in me than any man has ever been and can feel myself close to climax. Ever thrust is bringing me just a little closer. When I finally arrive everything becomes a blur of darkness and red.

When I wake up my clit is still hard and aroused, I slide my hand into my pajama bottoms, it shocking how wet I am. Even my nipples are erect. I think about texting you to tell you about the dream you’ve inspired- but it’s 4:30 in the morning. I feel so close to orgasm. My hand is already at my wet pussy, I rub my clit lightly and caress my breast with the other hand. In no time I’m cumming. I roll on my side with a satisfied smile and drift back to sleep hoping to have more sweet dreams of you.

These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

The Imperialist – snippet of a WIP

It was the way he touched her, that kept her coming back. Slow, deliberate and with complete authority over her body. She also knew her gruff Korean father would die to find the 일제 강점기 was continuing between his daughter’s legs. A “j*p” her father would call him , and she would cringe as she would when ever he spit the word. Despite creating two bi racial children with a black woman, he thought of anything remotely Japanese being accepted by a Korean was treacherous.

Her lover was more than 30 years her senior. A professor at a university that her well to do suburban friends made fun of her for applying to.Yasuhito Higa, a Yale educated scholar in subjects that bored her to tears. She had met him at the school’s open house, the attraction was far from instant. He was pale ,lanky, balding, and almost bird like. Most girls her age would reject the type of man who owned a sensible amount of everything. A Marxist. A man on whom the concept of fashion was completely lost.

She had rejected his university and him at first. After her second year rotting away at a state school she found herself warming up to the idea of both. She found an excuse to open communication with him again in a school assignment. Phone calls , turned into lunch dates, and somewhere in between discussing the folly of capitalism and spinelessness of Democrats, his kind smile, and gentle laugh made her look past his features. She began to imagine the handsome man he must have been when he was her own age.

Lying in his bed , naked the thin summer sheets doing nothing to shield her from the cool gust of spring breeze. She feels giant next to him now, moments ago he was larger than the world. An all encompassing entity she could not stop or question. Stretching her limbs ….

These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

The Parable of Mr. Lim

“Mr. Lim, would you like to see my breasts?”

She was staring up at him, her eyes fearful, for what ever reason that he might say no. He couldn’t think of what he had done to be so lucky. Before this moment he had considered himself a failure of a man. His wife left him for a limey bucktooth lawyer, Victor heard a few years later that his son blew his brains all over his Tupac posters because he a poof. At forty-two he was the cuckold father of a dead faggot, yet, things were decidedly looking better.

Standing before him was Talia Reid. She was nineteen years of age, skin like tawny milk chocolate and hair like the sun went black with envy of her beauty and she took to wearing on her head like a crown to gloat. A small girl at only five foot four, yet her proportions were almost godly. He had long admired her form, it was the reason he hired her a year earlier. She had long dancer limbs, round bum, pleasing thighs and breasts that were nothing short of perfection.

He and his assistant manager, a squat Indian fellow often argued if they were real or not. His colleague believing they were fake because she was such a small girl and they were just too perfectly round , firm and full a D cup to be real. Victor’s argument was that on her pay there was no way she had fifteen grand to waste on tits. His colleague response was always the same.

“On her pay, do you think she would pay for them?” Her breasts were always the subject of hot debate.

It started easily enough, closing the store as usual. He had locked the doors put down the gate, turned off most of the lights, got some soju from behind the counter and poured himself a drink. Of course tonight was unusual because emerging from the weave section was Talia, can of spray paint in hand, completely unaware he was there. She climbed on top of the back counter shook the can and let its contents burst onto the wall. When she was done the words “TRY LOVING YOURSELF” was written across the wall and ‘x’ s were scrawled on pictures of smiling black women with permed hair and Pakistani extensions.

“What the bloody fuck do you think your doing?” Victor said flatly not angry about the vandalism or its political message.

The shop was already a crap heap as far as he was concerned. Talia, shocked that her seemingly well thought out plan had been foiled, attempted to turn to him but lost her footing and uncharacteristically fell gracelessly to the floor. Victor took a drag on his cigar and frowned.

“You okay?” he called out to her.

He got soft whimpering in return. He signed and walked over to her wondering if she would try to get him for workers comp. He looked down on her, which was the norm he stood almost a foot taller than her. She was biting her lip trying not to cry; on her left leg was a scratch that was barely bleeding. Victor returned to the main counter, took another gulp of soju, and got the first aid kit. He used to have a real kit, but it kept disappearing so all he had was a zip lock bag with some alcohol pads and dollar store band aids.

He took the baggie and returned to her, now tears were running down her cheeks despite her best efforts. He knelt down in front of her and nursed her wound then sat down beside her , mostly just to get a less obvious view of her cleavage ; cleavage that she was sporting nicely in her little black hello kitty tank top. She looked at the band aid that he put on her then drew her knees towards her and hugged herself laying her head on her knees. There was a little silence between them.

“So,” Victor began, “are you going to tell me why you just vandalized the store?”

She turned her head to him and in a sheepish voice “Well… err… Umm… the… the Revolution?” she was convincing herself more so than telling him.

“Pardon?” he said after a drag on his cigar.

She nervously told him about the exploitation of Black women by individuals such as himself, who tell them that they need straight hair and such to be beautiful. She talked about Eurocentrism and other fresh old ideas that she was just learning about in her African studies classes. When she was done Victor arched his eyebrow.

“So, Marcus Garvey has what to do with weaves?” He admired the idealism of her age, youth’s one true luxury.

His response struck her as funny and she laughed, he had never heard her laugh before. She smiled at customers her whole shift, but never laughed, it was the most attractive laugh he ever heard, not overly girly not too squeaky, just adorable.

“Laugh all you want, tomorrow morning you’re the one that gonna be cleaning.”

She turned his head to him and smiled he knew she had assumed that she would be in jail by tomorrow. She grew up in suburbia and this was the most illegal and rule breaking venture of her life. A college student who wanted to take a chance in the big city. She was no Angela Davis and very far from Assata Shakur, but her act of civil disobedience was as close as she would ever come. It had taken a lot of resolve and he imagined she was proud of it.

“Thank you” she said.

Victor began to feel awkward about the way she smelled exciting him so much; the mixture of her strawberry shampoo and vanilla body sprits was at that moment the most erotic scent to hit his nostrils. He took one last drag on his cigar and stood up to toss it in the rubbish near them. Talia was wearing a little jean skirt that showed off what an hour of dancing every afternoon will do for youthful legs. She was trying to stand up as well, without flipping it up.

Victor recognizing her plight offered his hand and she took it. She hoped up with his help and smiled at him. Victor smiled back breaking a dead pan that he’d been wearing far too long. He noticed that the strap of her tank top was sagging off her shoulder. He thoughtlessly readjusted it, his rough old hands brushed against her brown skin momentarily and her skin was soft as a prayer.

His eyes must have lingered to long, or his un-tucked collard shirt wasn’t doing as good a job as her thought hiding his erection because out of the air Talia opened her mouth and her tongue formed the question-

“Mr. Lim, would you like to see my breasts?”


Did I need air to breath? Was the sky blue? Is my ex-wife an uppity whore? Girls these days, feminism God bless you
, Victor thought but out of his mouth he could only manage.

“Pardon?”

Color came to her cheeks and she bit her lips, and then looked at him expectantly as she placed his hand on her right breast. Victor dropped his cigar in surprise. He wondered if he had died some time ago and his time in purgatory was finally up. He wondered what possessed this nubile young nymph to offer herself to him, a grey old Korean stuck in a country he hated, he wondered a lot of thing as he instinctively palmed her breast, but he knew he would never wonder about the debate between him and his assistant manager. He had won, they were real and delightful.

“My… breasts, would you like to see them? I’ve liked you,” Talia started a little nervously “for a while now.”

Victor didn’t want to wonder any more, he was truly flattered. He had lived the life of an invisible man for so long, old and an Asian. The mall rats looked right through him, his customers always smiled at him but seeing him as an asexual giver of discounted relaxer and placenta conditioner, not as a man. Now here was the crème of the crop pressing her body against his and looking up with a calm beautiful brown saucer face and promising moon lips.

Victor not needing another missed opportunity under his belt decided to go for it, though part of him was screaming, This smells like a rape charge.

He lowered his head and her lips met his and he felt like Rip Van Winkle opening his eyes after a hundred years. He waited for her to draw away from him in revulsion or at least fear, but she seemed to share his enthusiasm and embraced him just as passionately. He had always wondered what if would feel like to experience her full lips, he was not disappointed. If they felt this good lip to lip he couldn’t wait to find out how the fared in other territory. When she finally recoiled he decided that he needed some answers to the questions swirling around his head.

“What does a girl like you want with an old man like me?”

Talia’s face grew a little redder than her natural hue; she looked down at her skirt and played with the hem.

“Well,” she started a bit unsure how to say what she wanted or if she could even articulate with words what she felt. “You’re always so nice to me and …” She looked for the words. “I like the way you look at me.”

“I’m sure a lot of blokes look at you the way I do.” He said with a smirk.

“Oh, and I like the way you talk, it’s like” she thought a second “it’s like … like mad eloquent.”

He hoped she never went to England, or she would be toughing down the entire isle. He also had an appreciation for her speech, part patois one part SAT verbal.

“And when I look at you, I see something familiar,” she added.

Victor didn’t know what she meant, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to, he instead concentrated on how softer her skin and caressed the skin of her shoulder considering her original offer. He cautiously slid the straps of her tank top down.

“Mr. Lim –”

“Victor” He corrected.

“Oh, sorry, Victor? I thought it was-“

“I prefer Victor.”

He bent down and pressed his lips against her before she could start a line of questions he didn’t have answers for. His hand ran up the contours of her body and she didn’t stop him when he lifted her top. She just raised her arms and continued to hungrily enjoy his kiss. He threw the garment aside where is knocked off a 24 inch Yaky 2b weave from the hook it was resting on. Her bra was strapless so once he unhooked the back it fell to the floor revealing her.

“Wow” Victor said despite himself. Talia giggled, not acting like the shy girl she was moments before.

“Yes, they’re real” she confirmed.

“I knew it!” Take that, Vish , He thought.

He almost didn’t want to put his gruff hands on her pillowy breast. He cupped them lightly brushing his thumbs with their brittle to wide nails across her erect brown nipples the contrast between her nipple and breast where a feast for her eyes, special dark chocolate on mocha. He picked Talia up and placed her on the counter toppling some wigs on Styrofoam heads. She warped her legs around him and cupped his broad face with her tiny hands. She pulled from him.

“Baby Harp Seal. That was it.” She said.

“Huh?” He said whipping a little sweat from his brow.

“When I look at you kinda reminds me of a baby harp seal,” she said with a smile.

He assumed it was a complement, another strange statement from a stranger girl, of course kissing and holding him the way she did, she could have told him he looked like Kim Jong Il and he wouldn’t have held it against her. He kissed her wine colored lips and then her chin; he lingered awhile on her long dramatic neck she giggled as his gruff stubble ran on her skin.

“Ticklish are we?” Victor smiled and then began to kiss the valley of her breast. She jumped a bit when he flicked his course tongue on the nipple of her left breast as he teased and squeezed her right one. He continued downward to her taunt belly, which was dancing with her giggles. He slid his hand up her well shaped thighs which lifted her skirt. Victor’s fingers finally found the top of her panties. He waited for her to stop him but all she did was kick off her shoes and shimmy her socks off. He got her knickers off after some wiggling on her part. Victor lifted the small stretch lace thing to his nose. It had been so long since he smelled a woman and her scent drove him mad. Talia’s jaw dropped at his actions and embarrasses she snatched the garment from him.

“Don’t do that?” she said holding the panties to her bare breasts.

“Why not, smells wonderful, better than roses,” he kissed her cheek, and the panties slide from her hands onto her lap, Victor cupped her breast in his hands and continued “No need to be shy now.”

“Good point,” she said looking down at his hands and after another kiss she added “I’ve only done this once, so … if I seem like I don’t know what I’m doing, it’s because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Victor was so aroused by her candid innocence the he couldn’t wait any longer. He kissed her deeply as he undid his belt and trousers. He motioned for her to lie down on the display counter, the “please do not tap on glass” sign ironically was now under his chin as stared at her hairless Venus mound. He kissed the sensitive skin around her opening. He felt the muscles in her legs tense and he raised his head.

“You nervous?”

She avoided his eyes and bit her lip again. “No one’s ever done that before.”

He ran his hand along her belly and said, “Don’t worry; you’re going to love it.” He returned to his previous position and began to lick her lips mildly amused by her gasps and contortions. She was glistening and swollen with want and desire for him, a sight he wasn’t sure he had ever really seen. The cloth of his boxers became an unbearable pressure.

He kissed his way to her belly button and upwards to the plan between her breast and onto her collar bond and her long neck. He released himself from his boxers and guided her hand to him. Her eyes widened and she released him as soon as she realized what was in her grip. He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“Don’t worry I won’t hurt you.”

Talia smiled at him warmly and put her arms around him and softly placed her lips on his, then laid her head on his shoulder and braced for discomfort. Cautions not to hurt her Victor prepared to enter her slowly it had been six years since he was inside a woman. Seven since he was inside a woman he was not paying for. Talia’s willing hips angled themselves to make his entry more fluid. His entire body shivered when his erection found her excited wetness. He thought he was going to climax right then and there. He quickly withdrew. Talia looked concerned.

“I’m an old man,” he explained.

“You’re not so old Mr. Lim” She cooed at him and placed her hands on his face.

“No,” he confirmed “I’m old.” Victor self-consciously wondered how awkward this situation would look, Korean father time mounting little black baby new year. The old white ram tupping the sable ewe, Shakespeare would have said.

“Well I don’t care, either way.” Talia said with a quick peck on his lips.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, I’ve wanted this a long time.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint then.”

He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand and lowered his head and kissed the baby soft skin of her arms and shoulder. She gently held his throbbing appendage and guided it to her. Victor’s eyes shut reflexively as his body tried to comprehend the intensity of the pleasure it was receiving. She was hot, wet, tight and moaning his name.

His cock had stumbled on the fountain of youth and he was reviling in her waters. Talia was gripping his shirt and biting his collar to keep from being to loud. When Victor opened his yes the world seemed completely different the colors brighter, the smell sweeter he had never felt this invigorated, this awake.

His eyes felt sharper, his ears were trained on the musical way Talia’s accent made his name dance on her tongue and she purred and moaned. Her excitement just added more pleasure to the act for Victor who thrust himself more vigorously, his hands firmly grasping her hips. He noticed a glimmer to his right and he looked toward it, not breaking the rhythm of his strokes. He found himself looking at his reflection in the mirror; placed there for the convenience of his wig purchasing customers.

He felt like he was looking at an old photo and not his reflection. In the mirror was a tall broad shouldered man, not a defeated old man and before that man was an adoring girl who saw the same thing he was seeing in the mirror whenever she looked up at him. He felt a rush of energy and the world was bursting around him in an even brighter, newer light. Looking at Talia he felt euphoric, his head felt light and his heart was fluttering, every nerve in his body was tingling and daring him to go harder. He was even more encouraged by her moans and her nails in his back.
Victor Lim was a man, one that had never felt more alive in his life. He kept turning that phrase around in his head.

I am a man; Lim Sung Ock is a man.

Concentrated so much on Talia’s moans and his new mantra that he hadn’t notice that the invigorating tingle he felt had left his entire body and had found a home in his left arm. Talia’s look of ecstasy and fulfillment was replaced with one of horror as his chest began to tighten. The pain was so intense, his ears began to ring and his vision blurred. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Talia’s big brown eyes wide with fear.

So sorry to disappoint, my dear, he thought. Just another martyr of the revolution.

These Might Tickle Your Fancy:

A Day At the Office

My first internship was arranged by an incompetent woman who had no idea what was doing, why else would I a journalism major be stuck at a software company. I spent my hours collating, photocopying and stapling. It was pretty boring up until the day they reassigned me.

I came in that morning wearing what I usually did. Basically I wore the same ill fitting “formal clothes” I wore to church, each garment carefully chosen by my mother to hide every curve that the god of puberty had graciously bestowed upon me. I was a frump master, to put it mildly.

It was really no surprise to me at all that I was mostly ignored, people handed me things , mispronouncing my name and never took much notice of me. I was a bit relieved when I was told that I was going to be assigned to be Mr. Chien as his new personal assistant, even if I didn’t give a shit about the job it made me feel pretty good that I was doing well enough to be promoted.

I had noticed him since the first day I arrived he was tall with beautiful calm sun kissed Chinese skin. He had a cocky air to him that one had to respect because as soon as he opened his mouth you knew he earn it. He was the first in the office and the last to leave. There’s something admirable, at least to me about rich people that have good work ethics.

I tried not to keep my eyes on his sly seductive smile. It was a daily treat to knock on his door and hand him his morning latté. I paid close attention to him on my first day and saw that he put two sugars and one sweet and low in his coffee cup then half and half before pouring his coffee. The guy that was hired before me never was much for details and kept bringing him his coffee black. Big mistake.

Even though I was his assistant I didn’t actually get to have a conversation with him. I was pretty much his coffee and Danish bitch. Most days he didn’t even look up from whatever file he was working on to talk to me. He would just bark for his beverage. I would always make him his beverage compliantly until one Friday when he decided to extend our usually four or five word conversations.

“Coffee girl, my office.” Mr. Chien demanded.

I hurriedly finished stirring his coffee, grabbing napkins before meekly making my way into his office. I set his napkin down on his NJ Jets coaster and placed his coffee on it. Then I tried to make a quick exit.

“ Didn’t tell you to leave yet Coffee girl. “

I froze in my tracks and turned around, looking at his Kenneth Cole shoes.

“Sorry, sir, would you like a Danish?”

“Maybe later, but we need to talk “

I nervously wrung my hands and managed to smile, “ What about , sir?”

“Don’t wear that outfit again.” He said .

“Excuse me? “ I said looking him in the eye for the first time that semester. He walked closer to me and closed the door, resting his arm on the doorframe. He seemed to tower above me.

“ Why would a girl your age even own a dress like that, and the sweater over it? Christ”

I found myself glaring at him, I suddenly remembered that his recommendation meant my grade and I tried to soften my features.

“ Well sir, what would you like me to wear?”

He chuckled as he walked to his desk and sipped his coffee.

“ Something a little more appropriate, something that is actually your size.”

“Can I leave now?” I said trying to hide my anger.

“Oh yeah, sure.”

I turned around and tried to calmly open the door before I could get my foot out of the door he called.

“Oh, do something with you hair too and a little make up wouldn’t kill you.”
I stormed back to my cramped work area to sulk. I had never had a man tear into my looks. It was unfair of him to berate me when I was obviously trying hard to be professional. I deserved a medal for somehow covering the cleavage that was bound to come from 40G breasts. I never wore high heels that would have called attention to my long legs and wide round hips. Nothing tight ever covered my ample and perky ass. I never wore make up to play up my soft afro-Asian features. I was being a good employee.

Fuck this job, I thought as I made Mr. Chien his 1:15 coffee, I made sure to dump 8 packets of salt in it and put in generous helping of skin milk. I took my cell phone out of my purse and txt’d my best friend.

U , ME – Mall NOW

I walked into his office and set the coffee down, he was on the phone talking to someone that most likely just as big an asshole as he was he didn’t acknowledge me at all. Just as well, I thought.

My best friend Mejin was waiting by the time I got off the elevator, the office complex was only 2 blocks away from school and almost all the seniors got stuck here. She was stuck at an accounting firm even though she was a biology major. She was pretty and Asian in a sea of white nerds so she came and went as she pleased and no one ever really questioned it.

“ Work that shitty?”

“ I need a new a outfit, my boss finds this offensive.”

She looked me up and down and gave me a quizzical look.

“ Whatever dude” she said with a shrug we walked to her jalopy and headed for the shopping center.

My father always gave me a credit card of his for emergencies and I could imagine a more appropriate use for it. We burned through the mall building a more appropriate ensemble for myself, between getting our nails, feet and hair done. I headed to the Mac counter.

“ Make me look like a porn star.” I asked the girl at the counter, thinking of the commission she complied.

750 dollars and 4 hours later, I emerged looking more like a video vixen than frumpy member of my high school’s Christian Club. I had found a pair of 5 inch black heels that accompanied the black lace top thigh highs I bought. They were attached carefully to the lacy red and black corset I bought from Fredrick’s of Hollywood. I knew that the slit in the smart black pencil skirt was long enough to show the seams of the thigh-highs running dangerously up my long dancer’s legs. My breasts sat piled into the cups of the corset and tested the strength newly acquired crisp white dress shirts buttons’.

“I don’t know about appropriate, but you defiantly look hot.” Mejin said with a giggle.

“Are my nylons straight?” I asked

“Yep, we should be getting back, I need to punch out.”

I walked through the mall loving ever second of male attention I was getting. This was the N’jaila I was used to being. Not the church marm that everyone at Maxios Software thought I was.

Getting back to the building I said my good-byes to Mejin and made my way back to the office. The office manager almost broke his neck to get a second look at me as he left the office. I held my head up and walked confidently enjoying the music my heels made on the tiled floor.

By this time Mr. Chien was the only one still in the office, and certainly the only person in our department still working. He must have heard my heels clicking toward him because he was at his office door seemingly waiting for me.

“Coffee girl?” he looked quizzically.

“People have names you know.”

I walked past him into the office. I noticed that in my heels I was practically the same height as him. I walked up to his precious desk and plopped my rear on it, no need for a coaster or a napkin. I made sure that when I crossed my legs he would get a little peak at my thigh and the lace of my nylons.

“Is there something you want?” He asked walking slowly to me.

I smiled at him, ready to tell him just how much of an ass he was, and how much he could lick the whole of my booty, when he did something unexpected. Mr. Chien knelt before me and began to kiss and fondle the top of my shoe.

“Umm, what are you doing.”

“ You were about to tell me off weren’t you?”

“Well, – yes, I was”, he was running his fingers up the long seem of my black stockings, it was distracting, but I still corrected myself.

He stood and leaned into me almost whispering in my ear, “ what were you going to tell me.”

“I am going to tell you you’re an asshole.”

“Oh , really?” He said as he started lifting my skirt , he bent down again and kissed and licked my garter and the flesh of my thigh. “ Tell me what you think of me” He groaned between lingering kisses.

“ I think you’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. You’re rude , belligerent and everyone can tell you’re miserable human being, and I hope you choked on that salty coffee.”

“Hmm , that it?” he said in his usual condescending tone, for some reason it was exceptionally offensive, before I could stop myself my hand was connecting with his face.

My hand immediately recoiled to cover my own shocked face, he was either going to retaliate or have security escort me to ass pounding prison. He looked up at me his hand on his red cheek looking as shocked as I was. Before I could begin sputtering insincere apologies, a slow and determined smile crept onto his full lips. When it was fully realized, he sprang from his feet, grasping my thighs and lifting my body, I landed on my back on his desk sending knick –knacks and sports memorabilia onto the floor.

His mouth found mine hungrily, desperately, my lipstick smearing on both our faces. My breast won the battle with my blouse and I could feel at least two buttons liberate themselves. My hands found his shoulders and I was torn between holding him closer or pushing him away. When I finally decided to push I found my efforts only excited him further, which l annoyed me further. I relaxed and let my body go limp. He stopped and took his lips out of mine, his tongue lingering on my full bottom lip.

“You okay?” He said.

I let my open palm answer, “ Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“You should be a boxer.” He said with his Cheshire cat grin.

“I hate you.”

“ You hate me so much you show up at my office after hours in crotchless panties and fuck-me-shoes?”

“I got them from Baker’s these are hardly fuck-me-shoes and you called me ugly.”

“ No, that’s a lie” He said fondling my right breast.

“You insinuated that I was ugly.” I said slapping his hand away.

“No,” he said playing with a ringlet of my hair, “I told you never to wear that outfit again.”

I rolled my eyes in frustration.

“So what were you trying to prove, that you’re fuckable?”

“You seemed unimpressed.” I said looking him in the eye challengingly.

“You know why I like you Coffee Girl, you are the only person in the office that tells me “fuck off” everyday.”

I began to wonder how he knew what I was texting to Mejin everyday.

“ I mean you don’t say it outright, “ he continued “ You sneak it into other phrases like, ‘good morning’ or ‘here’s your coffee’. Your lips deliver different words but the message is always the same ‘fuck off. “

“And?” I said dismissively, pushing him away.

“and I can’t remember anything turning me on this much in years.”

“Well, that says volumes about you , doesn’t it.”

“You can drop the act now?” He said coming closer to me.

“Act?”

“Yes, the Bitch act.”

“So you’re calling me a bitch, well isn’t this an HR nightmare.”

“ No, I said you’re acting like a bitch. Totally different.”

“Are you going to stop acting like and asshole?”

“Oh, I’m not acting,” he said with a chuckle,” I really am an asshole, but its part of
my charm.”

I shook my head in disbelief. Mostly because I couldn’t disagree with him. Since my first day on this miserable job he was the one person that I felt somewhat drawn too. There was really no reason for me to be so attentive to his nuances except that I enjoyed watching the way he moved around the office like a lion over-looking his prides. The brash veracity of her persona was in its essence, sexy.

“ So what if it is?” I said running my hands up his chest, and grabbing his
tie, pulling him back to me.

“I like this you a lot better.” He said, between kisses on my neck.

“ I’m the same girl, I just have my tits out.”

“And what great tits they are and fucking beautiful legs.”

He stood me up, to take a better look at me. I playfully shook my hips and pointed my toe to emphasis his point for him. He grabbed my swaying hips firmly and kissed me deeply. I could taste the coffee still on his tongue. His wondering hands slid from my hips and around my waist, back to my hips and around my bottom. I thought he was just enjoying the curves of my body, but when his left hand abruptly stopped at my side I realized he was looking for my skirt’s zipper. He had finally found it he wasted no time relieving me of it.

He slid it down my body slowly, past my hips, thighs and down to the floor. He knelt before me again, this time kissing the lacy boundary between my stockings and thigh. I let out a girlish giggle; his sweet breath tickled my sensitive skin. His kisses were light and warm, and unexpected pleasure resonated from every kiss. I ran my hands through his hair and gently guided is kisses to my honey pot. He hungrily accepted my offer.

I imagined how much his face was flushed with color and arousal, as his tongue explored me. He took me by surprise when he lifted me back onto his desk, and spread my legs so he could get a better view of me. Thanks to years of forced ballet classes I could almost do a full Russian split, I could almost see him fight his instinct to take his cell phone out and take a picture. He laid his hand on me and lightly stroked my clit.

“Do you minor in fucking or something?”

“ Eight years of ballet.” I said.

Mr. Chien bent his head down, and slowly licked my opening, still caressing my clit with his thumb. His lips and tongue were warm slowly rolled side to side and up and down, my hips moved with his motions and I tried to stop myself from moaning, but the sounds seem to come from someone else. They only got louder as he sucked on my stiff aroused clit.

I felt light headed, euphoric, taking in all the “wrong-ness of the act”, I didn’t know if he was married or not, he didn’t know if I had a boyfriend and neither of us cared. The only thing I cared about was his hot soft tongue and the pleasure it could give me.

I grabbed my breast and flicked my pinky fingers on my nipples. Mr. Chien was a master at cungulingus but my own soft touch sent me over the edge. He couldn’t hear my screams as my body violent rocked with orgasm, my legs instinctively closed in spasm. Despite the vise-like grip of my legs he never stopped lapping up my juices like the dog he was.

When I could control my extremities, I let Mr. Chein up for a breath of fresh air. He kissed my inner thighs as a covert way to wipe his mouth, I was going to point it out that I was on to him, but I benevolently gave him a pass.

As he got up , sat myself up and rested my hands on the edge of his desk. He
rested his head on my thigh.

“You’re skin is so soft, and smell like – “

“If you say chocolate I’m going to kick you in the face.” I said.

“Give me a little more credit than that, this isn’t ethnic kink,”

“Glad to hear it, but seriously this is getting into buzz kill territory.” I said as my hand rested on his shoulder. He stood and my hand glides down his form, to his waist. He kept himself in excellent shape for a man his age, or at least for what I thought a 40 year old would look like.

“Let’s see what you got,” I said as I began to tug at his belt buckle.

My hands eagerly attacked hi belt and pants, until he was standing before me in all his glory. It was a better looking than I thought. I always pegged him as a guy that would trim but he was completely shaved. He wasn’t the longest but he was thick and healthy. All in all it was as handsome as one could expect from genitals.

“So what do you think?” he said.

“It’s okay.” I said feigning indifference.

“ Just okay?” He said grabbing me playfully.

“Yeah, but I still want to try it out.” I purred into his ear.

With more vitality and energy than I could have expected from a man my own age, he tightened his grip on me, swiped the remaining contents of his desk to the floor and laid me on my back in what seemed like one amazing fluid motion. He buried himself in the valley of my breasts. His tongue made a soft wet hot journey to my mouth where his lips devoured mine. He fingers danced about my sweet spot and I couldn’t wait to take him inside me.

He entered me with the same varicosity and hunger that he used to lay me out on his desk. Every one of his thrusts resulted in a burst of pleasure and it seemed with ever burst there was another thrust accompanied by a satisfying slap. His hands closed on my waist forcing my back to arch. His strong hands felt like heaven as they grasped me, as I slowly whined my waist grinding my clit against his pelvis.

I imagined how comical this might look, my boss and I screaming and grunting like animals on his desk. I didn’t care, I was in the moment, and at that moment I was being filled to my limit and loving every second of it. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to climax and I wanted him to feel as good as he was making me feel.

” I’m going to cum.” I screamed.

My pleasure encouraged his thrusts and pounded my pussy until I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My arms lay useless at my side as I convulsed as if placed in a sea of orgasms and the waves were crashing against my body. My vaginal muscles grasped and massaged him and soon he was rocking against me adrift in his own ocean. We stayed wrapped up in each other until we had our wits with us again. He withdrew from me and slide from the desk and picked my skirt up from the floor.

Mr.Chien face was comically flustered, red and sweaty but a look of complete satisfaction. He looked on his desk and picked up on of my earrings that I hadn’t notice I’d lost.

” Is this yours Coffee- well…?”

“N’jaila and you?”

“Patrick.”

” Really, I wouldn’t have guessed, you looked more like an Eric to me, maybe a David.” , I said trying to straighten my hair.

He laughed as he buckled his belt, “Well, I don’t think I can even spell your name, but it suits you.”

“So… do you want me to fix your desk back?”

“It can wait until Monday.”

“Oh,” I said ” I should , um .. go home now.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Well, its not like it could get any more awkward, and you don’t have to worry about putting out too soon, becuase you’ve already done that.”

Against my better judgment I nodded my head in agreement, at least I already knew he was a decent lay.

Creative Commons License
A Day At the Office by N’jaila Rhee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at www.blasianbytchblog.blogspot.com.

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Spa Treatment

My sister, well my half sister, has been addicted to Korean spas since she studied in Pusan when I was just in middle school. When I turned 18 the first thing she wanted to do was drag me to a spa.

I didn’t really want to go, honestly who wants to see naked old people chilling in flip flops. I was really disappointed when she told me my birthday present was a day at the spa. I felt like she really got a present for herself. What I wanted was a Playstation 3 and what I thought I was getting was naked ahjumas.

The day after my birthday she took me to K-town in Manhattan. The place was nicer than I thought it would be, there were cheerful lighting and despite the narrow hallways it seemed like a nice homey place. It smelled wonderful like mint and jasmine.

Most of the rooms were segregated by gender, the staff whisked you from room to room doing all kinds of things, wrapping you in leaves, soaking you in mud, putting hot stones on you back I was having a blast. Around the four hour mark my sister asked me to rest in a small sauna with her.

There we were getting all sweaty when my sister turned to me and asked.

“Every got your boji waxed?”

“No,” I said “isn’t easier to just shave”

“Its not about the hair.” she said smiling knowingly.

“It’s not?”

“No” she said with a sigh at my apparent navite.

There was a switch next to the door that was used to call and attendant , my sis flicked it. After a few moments a rosy cheeked girl came to assist us. Most of these places employed newly arrived people so I could see that she was nervous to talk to me, likely assuming I only spoke English. She turned to my sister and after a brief exchange in Korean I was following her out of the room.

“Jaila!,” My sister screamed before I could leave, she was tugging on the bottom of my towel. “You’re booty didn’t feel a draft?”

The attendant didn’t bother to try not to snicker it must have been funny for her to see me try to fit my large breasts and bum into the little made for skinny Korean girls towel I was provided. After I was somewhat decent I was led down the long narrow hallway to a new room. The attendant told me very slowly and very loudly to wait here.

The room was very small and only had a massage table and various bueaty supplies and scented lotions.

I clung to my towel and hopped on the table. I was admiring my wiggling toes when the door opened and I was surprised to see a man standing before me.

He was handsome, very strong angular features. He stood about 6’1, the few grey hairs he had showed despite youthful looks he might be in his early 40s. He smiled at me and I smiled back.

“Are you feeling comfortable?” he asked me in Korean.

I nodded my head.

“Do you speak English?” I asked him in my infantile Korean.

“Sure thing” he reapplied with a South Queens accent. Despite the drawl he voice was deep and sexy.

I could feel all the blood in my cheeks and I knew I must be blushing. I could feel his eyes on my body as he asked.

“What type of wax do you want?”

I shyly pointed at his destination and looked at my wiggling toes again.

“No need to be shy,” he said ” lie on your back please.”

I awkwardly maneuvered myself and my too small towel into the position he desired. It was by some miracle that I didn’t expose myself.

“Let’s get started” he abruptly yanked my towel to my navel leaving my goodies out in the open.

“How old are you? He asked as he powdered me like a infant.

“18, I said my birthday was 2 days ago.”

“Well, happy birthday.” He said as he used a wide Popsicle stick to smear hot wax on my Venus mound.

“Thanks”

“Did you get what you wanted?” He said as he put a strip of cloth on the patch.

I was about to answer when with no warning at all he sadistically yanked that cloth with all the power he had. I don’t know if it was the shock of the experience or the pain , but all I could remember next was smelling a strong scent. Something like tiger balm and Indian food. I jolted back in to consciousness and i was still lying on my back.

“I take it this was your first time? Its all over now.”

I didn’t answer him and swung my legs over and onto the floor to inspect his handy work. I was clean as a whistle and bare as the day I was born.

“Would you like a massage?” he asked.

“Are you going to do that again?”

“Well, you don’t have any hair left so I wouldn’t waste the wax.”

I rolled my eyes and got back on the table.

“Lay on your back please.”

Hi hands wandered down my back working various muscles, most of which were only tense becuase of the abuse my happy patch had previously endured. His hands moved from the small of my back to my hips and curiously over my round behind and the back of my thighs.

I had never had a massage before so I thought nothing of it until he raised my towel giving him a full view of my ass. He slowly massaged my thighs. Color rushed to my face, I was completely embarrassed by how aroused I was by this stranger touching me.

His hands were rubbing my bare hips and my pussy was pulsating with want. I knew I shouldn’t be allowing this man, who was most likely old enough to be my father, carry on the way he was. Of course I could see why he couldn’t help it. Most of the women he see have to be wrinkly and old, then here I come fresh and barely legal with the thickness. Why not let the poor guy cop a feel, it wasn’t like I wasn’t enjoying myself.

“Would you like to turn over?” He asked, I complied silently.

He was a big boy, and his khakis weren’t doing to good a job of hiding that or his arousal. He began to work the front of my thighs under my towel, my skin tingled with his touch. The terrycloth was torture agianst my aroused nipples. His hands ventured to my inner thigh and began inching closer and closer to my place. The closer he got the more excited I became.

To my disappointment he withdrew his hands from under my towel and began to massage my lower legs. After working on my feet and toes he began the long journey back to the trunk of my body.

“You’re very pretty down there.” He said breaking the long silence we shared.

I didn’t know what to say, but I found myself saying “Thanks.”

I tried not to look at his obvious erection and turned my head to the fake Monet on the wall. I knew he must be enjoying how red my face had become. His strong hands were at the top of my thighs, I tried to hold in a gasp of shock as his finger lightly ran up my wet pussy lips. My whole body reacted as if his finger was made of lightening. He luaghed and brought his finger to his mouth.

“Taste good too.” He cooed.

This was when I was supposed to be a responsible person and scream bloody murder, but I was 18 and if you can’t do stupid shit when you’re 18 when can you? Not to mention what was the use of saying No at this point, my body was screaming Yes louder than my mouth ever could. I said nothing he took the silence as consent and returned his hand to my pussy.

He slowly and gently rubbed his fingers along my lips and clit and my hips instinctively moved with his rhythm.

I tried to keep quiet , for all I knew these walls were paper thin. I must have been doing a lousy job becuase I found his hand covering my mouth as his other hand. He removed it and mad the universal “shh” gesture.

I smiled shyly. He took switched his hands, letting me taste myself. He seemed pretty pleased with the image. He withdrew his hand from me and motioned for me to swing my body to the side of the table. I obediently did as told. Still holding my towel in place.

He seemed amused by my shyness. He placed his hand on mine and slowly moved it to the side of my body along with the towel. My bare breasts finally exposed to him. He raised an appreciative eye brow.

“I’ve never seen any as big as yours”

“I hear that a lot.” I said shyly.

He took my breast in hands softly cupping them and began to kiss on suck my already taunt nipples.

I was pretty glad he wasn’t making the usual asinine pillow talk, saying something about me tasting like chocolate – or saying how my dark skin agianst his pale skin was arousing. He was putting his lips to much better use. He began to kiss the valley of my breasts and chest , I giggled as his kissed my neck and nibbled on my ear.

“What’s your name?” he whispered.

“Jang, Seon Hee” I purred back. The name was actually that of this stupid cunt that went to high school with me why her name was the first I could think of is beyond me.

He continued to kiss and tease my neck, which drove me wild. I wrapped my long legs around him and rested my arms on his shoulder. I could feel his hardness up against my clit. His mouth almost devoured mine. As his kissed me I ran my fingers through his thick silky hair.

He pulled away from our embrace so his lips could return to my full breasts. He gently guided one of my hands to his cock. He was massively bigger than my ex boyfriend. I started to have second thoughts. What I was doing was crazy. At any moment someone could walk through that door, Hell my SISTER could walk through that door. I was engaging in total insanity.

“You’re pretty big, Oppah…” I couldn’t finish my sentence, perhaps sensing my uncertainty he bowed his head and softly places his lips on mine. His kiss was intoxicating. I ran my tongue along his full lips and wrapped my arms around him. He kissed me passionately , deeply and hungrily. I was eager to be devoured by him. Every place on my body his mouth touched burned like it was on fire. His lips crept down my body as I rested my elbows on the table my legs still in the air.

“You’re so cute here” He said, before I could return the compliment she burred his face in my little love garden breathing in my scent as he flicked his tongue over my opening. I bit my lip in an effort to stop my moans.

I never felt so sensitive and responsive to oral. Perhaps this is what everyone was going on about with waxing.

My thighs had his head in a soft but powerful grip as his powerful hands gripped my hips, which undulated helping his tongue massage my wet pussy. I couldn’t even make a sound , I don’t even think I was breathing. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. My back arched, and all my blood rushed to the top of my skin. I cupped my own breasts as pleasure his my body in waves, making my every limb pulsate.

I had never actually cum before this, its not that I didn’t love having sex, I just didn’t know that there was more too it than feeling pretty alright. This was a whole new reality that I’d never experienced. When my body stopped shaking I stared up at the ceiling confused and amazed.

He began to kiss his way up from my boji , past my tummy stopping to pay respect to each breast before he found my lips again.

“Can you do something for me-” To answer him I clumsily lifted myself to face him and began fumbling with his belt. After a small battle with the buckle I unzipped his trousers and eagerly relieved him from his pants. My eyes widened in anticipation. he was indeed a very big boy. I couldn’t wait to taste him.

I hopped off the table leaving my towel behind before I could kneel he bent down and placed his lips on mine again. He was a lot taller than I first though. I guess becuase I had on no shoes and he did. I was intoxicated by his sharp and sophisticated cologne

“Can you deep throat Oppah’s cock?” he whispered in my ear.

This was something I always liked to hear, obviously not becuase of it’s romantic undertones , but I loved to hear the gasp of shock when I actually complete the task.

I knelt before him and took him in my hands. It was think and warm. He was uncut and glorious. It was a treat to hear him moan softly as I wet his cock by licking and kissing his head and shaft.

As I worked his shaft with my left hand and caressed him with my right I looked up at his pleasured expression. I slowly took him into my mouth, widening the back of my throat and letting him slide into me until my nose was resting on his
belly.

“Oh shit”, I couldn’t see his face but I’m sure it was priceless.

I ravished him in my usual energetic and enthusiastic fashion loving the was his cock throbbed and pulsated in my throat.

“Slow down, I don’t want to cum”

I didn’t want that, at this point I was crazed with arousal. I wanted him to take me, pain or no pain.

I obliged him and slowly worked his cock with my hands as I flicked his kissed and sucked his head. I never had a man of his girth. The thought of him inside me scared me but excited me more. The more excited I became the more I ravished his cock.

He pulled away and took my breasts in his hands, I guess at what he wanted and leaned into his erection. It was amusing to see the head of his cock disappear and reappear between my cleavage with every thrust.

“You like my cock?”

For an answer sucked it into my mouth and felt him throb.

“Turn around and show me your little boji” he commanded.

I gave his cock one last kiss before I bent over the table. He gave my ass a playful pat as I spread my legs a little wider to give him a good view. He spread my glistening wet lips with his thumbs. I wondered if he was admiring me or his own handy work.

He let go and I could hear his pants fall to the floor. The signature sound of a condom being opened. After he put it on he began to rub his stiff cock on my wet pussy. I was nervous but wanted him inside me.

Gently he pushed himself inside me. My body tensed as my boji tried to accept him. His girth felt like he was pushing my limits. I had never felt so full, it hurt…but in the best possible way.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled lustfully “Can you take the rest in?”

THE REST IN, I thought , before I could convey my alarm he was attempting to thrust himself inside me. I let out a pathetic whelp of discomfort.

“Too much?,” He asked with his face buried in my soft dark tresses, ” Hop on the table.”

He withdrew from me so I could honor his request he guided my body into the desired position. I faced him with my legs warped around him again. I felt extremely shy as he looked into my eyes. I hid myself in his chest.I ran my fingers through his salt and pepper hair. He melted into me slowly, we moved in rhythm with each other.

My back arched in pleasure and I found myself on my back with my legs agianst his body. I could tell he loved my tight young pussy griping his cock.

I was almost at the height of arousal as he pumped his throbbing member as deep as he could inside me, when he abruptly stopped to flip me over. He slammed his hard cock deep inside me, I couldn’t even make a rational thought let alone a sound. He grabbed my towel with was still underneath me by both ends making it taunt agianst my underside forcing all of him inside me. He did this with such force that it raise my entire body with each thrust, making a satisfying “slap”.

He grunted with pleasure and effort, I could feel the sweat from his brow falling on my back.

“You like being fucked hard,” He said between grunt. I could tell he was saying this more for himself than actually inquiring about my likes and wants , so I let my moans answer.

I could feel another orgasm building up and his tempo quickened. I held my breasts in my hands and lay my head on the table taking his pumps and moaning with pleasure. The first wave hit and my back arched he let go of the towel and ran his hands up my body and firmly gripped my breasts. I felt weak with pleasure and he pressed my body agianst his still pumping his fat cock in me.

He must have been near his peak as well, I think the sensation of me cumming all over his cock did it for him. I could his body go rigid as he cock pumped his juice into me. He held me close as he rocked with his orgasm. When he let go I floated back onto the table , spent but extremely satisfied. He withdrew slowly making sure not to spill his seed.

“I’ll be right back” he said he said stroking my soft hair. he adjusted himself and pulled his pants back on. He held me close to him , brushing my hair back so he could kiss my shoulder.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay”

I nodded and wrapped my towel around me. He gave my booty playful slap, before walking out the door.

I waited a moment before peaking my head into the hallway. When I saw he was nowhere to be found I skidaddled my black ass back to the sauna where my sister was. I would have run but the experience left me so sore I was penguin walking by the time I got back to her.

“Shit, took you long enough , you fucking baby. It couldn’t possible still hurt.” She said sipping some cool water.

“What the hell took you so long?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said as I added more water to the hot stones.

She shrugged and continued to relax. We ended the day with manicures and pedicures. The whole time she was completely unaware as to how awesome her birthday present really was.

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