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
DAY 4 - YEON-JAE
“I am afraid you found the visit yesterday a bit dull,” the man in the suit ventured.
“Not at all,” I said.
“Yeon-Jae is waiting for us in the gymnasium,” he said.
I followed him out of the mansion and to the left where a large outbuilding contained a well-appointed gym, the floors covered with mats and gymnastic, fencing and boxing equipment.
Yeon-Jae was the tallest of the women I had met yet, perhaps five foot five, her body athletic, her legs muscular in a pair of tight-fitting exercise pants. A loose black shirt suggesting almost no chest. Her hair was tied back tightly behind her in a pony tail, but wisps of it stuck out to the side, and the hairline was that adorable low line that only a few Asian girls have, with full eyebrows, a thick nose and expressive mouth and eyes. She looked almost familiar. Hadn’t I seen her? The Olympics several years ago. I thought possibly.
“I will need to officiate this morning,” the man in the suit said. “Yeon-Jae insists she must be won. You may suggest the event.” I froze, looking at the girl, trying to think of a good choice. “Surely you are good at boxing” he suggested. No, I thought, I never have. “I’m alright,” I said out loud. Two assistants helped outfit us in gloves and headgear. We stood inside a square marked on the mats. We couldn’t leave the square, we were to begin – and stop – at two claps. Before I had time to think it through, the man in the suit clapped twice. Yeon-Jae crouched into position and regarded me. I felt stupid. I wasn’t going to hit a tiny Korean girl. I took two steps toward her and took a jab at her glove, which anyone could have blocked easily. I tried two more jabs at her, thinking I was testing her. She seemed to turn one shoulder slightly, and an arm shot out, connecting with my head gear, knocking my chin sideways, where it met with her left fist straight on. Before I could react she followed up with three body blows, backing me out of the square with their f***e, and I heard two hand claps.
“Perhaps a simple foot race to one end of the gym and back,” the man in the suit suggested. She ran like a gazelle and beat me easily. She was leaning against the wall with her hint of a smile in her eyes and lips as I still had two steps to go.
“Martial arts?” the man in the suit suggested. Well I knew I was probably fucked there, but I didn’t want to back down from a challenge. The two claps and I circled her, she facing me. I shot a hand out at where I thought she was, but she slipped behind me and dropped me to the mat with ease with a leg sweep. We reset. This time I thought sure I would connect, but she caught my wrist in her small hand and did something to the nerve. I dropped to my knees in pain. Round three I did what no fighter should do in his right mind – I simply lunged at her hoping my mass would overpower her. She slipped behind me, punching me in the side and knocking out my wind. I turned to face her, expecting the leg sweep, but instead I found the back heel of her foot headed straight for the bridge of my nose. I managed to duck enough that it connected with my forehead, but it somersaulted me back and out of the circle. She offered me a hand up, eyes and mouth seeming to mile at me. I conceded the martial arts event.
“Do you know fencing?” he asked me. “Not well,” I said. Not at all. The assistants helped me on with a mask and protective equipment. The man in the suit explained the rules as best as he could during this time, while Yeon-Jae regarded me with the same look of amusement and good will. We lined up in position, and I waited for Yeon-Jae to don a mask and equipment. She shook her head and said something in Korean.
“Well I don’t want this shit on if she’s not . . .” I started to say, when I heard the two claps, and Yeon-Jae unleashed whoopass on me, driving me back and pushing the tip into various points of my body half a dozen times. Two claps. I started tearing off the equipment … so it would be even, I thought, and then realized how ridiculous that actually was. This girl was going to be the death of me. Again the two claps, and again Yeon-Jae scored three or four points as soon as she engaged me. One point drew bl**d from the impact as it hit my shoulder. I knew the rest would leave bruises.
“Try the sabre this time,” the man in the suit said. They equipped me with the new weapon as Yeon-Jae paced about, drinking bottled water. She rolled her pants up to the knee and pulled off her shirt, revealing a tight lycra sports bra, pulled her hair back on her head, waiting for me to be ready. The two claps, and Yeon-Jae was on me before I had time to advance, slashing this time and hitting me in the side with the sabre. We reset and went at it again.
This time I managed a block before she adjusted and whipped the sabre past my ear, not hitting me. I saw the blade go past my eye and reaction took over: I cheated. I pushed her back with my free hand and she stumbled two steps away. Immediately the two claps came as I had been disqualified, but Yeon-Jae shouted something and turned back to me, cocking back her sabre and taking a cut at me which I narrowly blocked. She wasn’t playing now, and definitely not by any rules. The quizzical smile on her face was gone now, filled with intensity. But now my bl**d was up and we were fighting in a way I could understand – just balls out with no rules and no boundaries. I blocked her next shot and then took a cut at her that she had to get after fast to stop. I was in this to win. I thought she might behead me if I didn’t. I kicked out catching her in the stomach and knocking her back, following up with a series of cuts – not heavy swings because I knew she would exploit that and get inside me for the kill in the time that would take. I drove her with little cuts, backing her off her guard as she struggled to catch her breath.
I turned my wrist and hit her in the bare ribs with the flat of the blade, making her gasp and reel to the side, backing up, still blocking but breathing hard and running out of wall. When her back was a foot from the wall I used the hand not holding the sword to grab Yeon-Jae’s sword hand and slam it up against the wall. Her sabre clattered away. “Yield,” I said, angling the blade at her head. I never saw the left fist until it connected with my nose, breaking it. bl**d poured onto the gym mat. I threw my shoulder at her in a football tackle, slamming her body against the wall, dazing her, hitting her again with my shoulder and backing away.
She didn’t fall as I had expected. I was a fool to move away while she still stood. She looked at me, preparing to charge, her mouth straight now – concealing her perfect teeth and permanent smile for the first time – eyes focused and eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
Someone was going down on the next move.
She didn’t go right for me as I had expected. She slipped sideways and tried to get distance from the wall. She almost made it. I tripped her up with the edge of my foot and she stumbled and I kicked her sideways. She caught herself by one hand, about to pivot when I kicked her over again, this time one foot planted on her chest, the sabre pointed at her neck.
“Yield!” I said again, and she made a sign of surrender with her hand. I backed two steps away from her, taking my foot off her chest, lowering the sword. She pulled herself up into a kneeling position, chest heaving, gasping for breath, pushing at the sidelocks of hair that were plastered to her sweat-covered face. The smile was still there, but the eyes were full of something else, wild with excitement and the thrill of battle. She said something in a husky voice between gasps and sat up on her knees, beckoning me.
“You have been won,” the man in the suit said, hardly needing to, as he turned his back and left the gym with the two assistants.
She fell on my cock, licking and pulling at it desperately, the air around her crackling with our adrenaline. I could barely stand myself, bl**d pouring profusely down my chest, as she did it, sucking my cock with all the relief and rush that one feels after a near-death experience. That was what it felt like I had been through – I thought she may have killed me, and I wondered if she believed her life was at risk too. She lunged her lips and mouth onto my cock again and again, almost out of control in her excitement, our sweat, bl**d, saliva and precum all mixing together as she devoured my cock, licking and sucking it like a person dying of thirst.
I swear she moaned and orgasmed – I felt her body twitch and spasm – as I came, pumping her face with the last of my energy. She swallowed every drop. I helped Yeon-Jae to her feet. Had she been vanquished, or had I?
Walking back to the house with the man in the suit I thought of all the possible openings I had left her as I stood with my foot planted on her, sword within reach. “She let me win at the end, didn’t she?” I asked. “What do you think?” he said.
“I think I’m glad to be alive,” I said, holding a cloth wrapped in ice against my broken nose.
DAY FIVE TO FOLLOW . . . DON'T FORGET TO VOTE AT THE END.