That was this summer. I had very long relationship and last year i got ridden of it. So I sex occasionally wit various girls till then. One night this September I was very very tired of everything. Job went finally better and some private investing also, but I had being working for 14 hours a day at time. It was About 1 am in the morning and was just went of from long shower and about to lay down on my bad.The voice from the other side of cell phone was very pleasant, some kind of baby talking voice. Voice said" Annnn' what what do want from me now?...LOL.. i said "who is this?&... Continue»
SEVEN ASIAN BLOWJOBS IN SEVEN DAYS
VOTE FOR THE BEST
- INTRODUCTION AND DAY I
- DAY 2 - MEI
DAY 3 - YUZMIN
“A day of activity, a day of relaxation, it’s a good way isn’t it?” the man in the suit said to me after we had breakfasted and settled up. He refused to hear my impressions so far of either Mei or Emi. “You will tell me at the end after you have met all seven. Today you will take a ferry to a nearby island to meet Yuzmin.”
The man in the suit accompanied me in the boat, which took me across a bay to a populated area. The writing on the few shops looked Thai to me. We went to a two-story house. Inside there were women everywhere, their bodies covered in traditional Malaysian dress, heads covered even indoors with scarves that also covered their mouths. Only their eyes and a little dark hair was visible as to each of them. It was up to my imagination to guess at their figures and their face. I knew them from the colors of their dress and from their voices, that was all. There were seven women there – one took the role of a mother, or at least a matron. She told me that they would show me traditional Malaysian hospitality and culture for me to observe today. The other six – all young women – were introduced to me. None of them, as far as I could follow the thick accents, were named Yuzmin.
It was a quiet day of sipping spiced tea and good food and sharing polite conversation, observing Malaysian customs while the women were nothing but polite and courteous. Yet there was a sense of strong sexual repression about to burst. I could feel it, smell it in the atmosphere. Now and then a girl would shift, expose an ankle or a leg – amazing how in a repressed environment this can fuel such interest and lust. They all had beautiful feet and smooth legs. One of the girls – the one in a pink and violet outfit, was wearing high heels. At other times of the day they would adjust head scarves and give me only a momentary glimpse of their faces – too soon to tell anything about them before it was covered again. I listened to them, asked polite questions, laughed with them, had another good dinner and we all retired to the front room again for after-dinner tea, sitting around the room in a circle in different chairs.
By now the sun had set and it was dark on the street. The mother/matron began drawing the blinds. “We go to sl**p early in this house,” mother/matron said, “the ladies must say good night soon.” With that she left the room and I heard her go upstairs. Nothing much changed except I felt the unspoken tension increase as the ladies talked, mostly amongst themselves. There was a little more shifting and arranging and leg-showing going on now than had been all day, but nothing they would get in trouble for until one, to my amazement, hiked up her dress to her knee and began itching the back side of her leg. The caution from another girl caused her to stop and she looked over at me as if she had forgotten I was there.
All the lights went out.
“The generator has failed,” one of the girls said. “It happens often. We just need to wait for a short time.” It was pitch black inside the room. The girls seemed excited by the blackout and talked among themselves loudly. It sounded like a girls’ school, but I couldn’t follow anything they were saying – as soon as mother/matron left they had resumed speaking Malaysian instead of English, which they were f***ed to do around me for politeness at the insistence of the mother/matron. Whatever it was they were saying it sounded random and conversational and jovial.
Something touched my knee. I felt lips against my ear, a woman’s lips. “I am Yuzmin,” she said, sucking the lobe. I felt her hand slide inside my pants, her body sliding down as if melting against mine, grinding her chest against me, feeling ample tits concealed under the dress. My cock was out and her mouth, hot and wet, came down over it and began servicing me with absolute precision, making me want to blow both nuts immediately. Somehow she gave and took, keeping me on the edge for several minutes as I listened apprehensively to the conversation and feared the power might come on again at any second. Nobody seemed to notice. I tried to listen to see which of the voices were silent, but I couldn’t tell them apart that well without any visual reference. I bit back a groan as I thought my balls and cock would explode.
Yuzmin’s face came down all the way on my cock, then up and down faster, riding my cock as I filled her mouth with cum. I was slumped in the chair, spent. She arranged me and I felt her lean forward again, kiss and suck my ear again, and whisper “It was a pleasure to have met you sir.”
Several minutes later the power came back on. There were six women sitting around me just as before. Mother/matron came down and told them it was time to say farewell to their guest. All six of the women lined up at the door and extended a hand to me.
All bade me goodbye with the identical phrase: “It was a pleasure to have met you sir!”
DAY FOUR TO FOLLOW . . . DON'T FORGET TO VOTE AT THE END.