Purchase in Taipei

This time hers moved too.

I pushed far into her mouth and felt her think about gagging. Then her own tongue wrestled with mine -- partly in self defence, I imagine. But her wrestling had soon become intimately wild. I let our tongues intertwine, and push, and rub, caress. I pulled my tongue back into my mouth, and was rewarded by a foray of her own. Chasing my flighty thick tongue with the stenches of travel from her fragrant young mouth into mine, and back, then back again. I started to play with her luscious breasts as intimately as I did with her tongue. Her back arched, her shoulders climbed, her torso pushed into my hands. Thrusting her soft breasts into the source of their torment. The girl was warming up.

I took her hands from her sides. (Both were clenched like little fists.) I showed them where my shirt buttons were. Like an obedient child she started to undo them as her breasts and her mouth continued to receive my undivided attention. When a lovely young lady pushes your shirt from your shoulders, and crushes her lips against yours, and squirms her breasts against your warmly seeking hands, it causes an erection. It did with me, at least. So, my shirt off my shoulders, her arms round my neck, her breath coming hard and loud and fast, I reached behind my neck and grabbed her hand, and took it to my belt. Work to be done, young hussy, I thought.

Her fingers sat on my belt as if unsure what it was -- she certainly made no attempt to unfasten the thing. So I grabbed her other hand from the back of my neck, which it now clutched tight, and put that, too, on my belt. I angled my mouth against hers, and rammed my tongue down her throat. This seemed to ignite some sort of short fuse, for as soon as I did, something inside her erupted. Her tongue came at mine like a hawk at a dove. She drove it in circles around the sweet cavern of her mouth. She breathed hot and fast, rasping at times like a gale, then her tongue -- passion inflamed -- dove feverishly into my mouth and probed deep.

Her fingers ripped at my belt. Unclipped the catch. Pulled down the zip. I lifted her hips, and mine, off the bed. Helped her push my trousers, and yesterday's Y-fronts, down to my knees. I kicked at my shoes, then the trousered confusion that bound my calves. I rolled her onto her back. One of my shoes hit the floor. Then a second. A leg came loose. As I rolled on top of this sweet young morsel of loveliness, bugger me if slim and eager fingers didn't slip between my legs, find my rampant John, and show it where to go!

The heat and the honey at the entrance to the girl was like confection and arousal gone mad! I slipped into her like a butter-covered piston ramming home. 'Ngaaaarr,' she groaned as her legs coiled round my back and her ankles locked tightly on my butt. Then our pelvises found a rhythm we could both get off on ... and boy, did my little cutie start to get off! I am not a small man. Anywhere. I am hung pretty well, even though I do say so myself ... and boy, was this new to her. She was Tight! But making room! And ... Boom!

I revelled in the pace, and fire, and enthusiastic effort she was now putting into this high powered game of ours. The fevered clench and squirm of muscle. The eager thrust and hump of thighs. The rasping gasps for breath. The glazed dazed eyes. The wide open mouth. The roll of the backbone and pelvis as she sought to drive me ever deeper inside herself. Then she was suddenly frantic.

Wildly bucking, crying, mewing. Her fingernails started to scratch and claw. Bloody hell! What had I loosed here. A panther? She wasn't small, but nor was she huge, but suddenly she was all raw, unbridled, fighting power. Feline power. Into my mouth, clamped tight over hers, came a deep down guttural groan. It didn't sound like her. This was something new. Then it built, with the thrust of her hips and the clutch of her legs and the pull of her arms it built, to a mew, then a cry, then a high keening howl ... 'Ngreeeeee ...hhh!' She came over the top like a line of cavalry, sabres drawn, thighs locked hard on their mounts.

I didn't even try to keep up. She was miles ahead. I'd wait till she came down. Then we'd go up hand in hand. She slowed. My prick was encased in a hot honeyed warmth that was rippling and nuzzling all round me. Her mouth had slipped from mine. Still open, it gasped. We held each other like that, cheek to cheek. She was gasping like a runner from a very long race. One of my hands was on her buttocks, feeling the feel of the thing. The other was tight round her waist, keeping the sweetie atop me. For that's where she was. Atop me. Somehow in the frenzy of her coming she'd whipped me over on my back. What a lovely weight she was, though.

My hands wandered over her back. A finger went to her ass, and she let it in -- no bother! I let it sink in. Softly. Nice and warm. I could feel the pressure on my prick, deep in and hard in her front hole. I amused my way like this for a minute. Maybe two. Then she lifted her head. Her hair was matted to her face. Her skin with a lively glow. Her eyes were filled with embarrassment. She shook her head.

'This is,' she started to say, bringing her hands to my shoulders, trying to push herself off. 'Wrong,' she groaned, making a face. 'Wrong,' she repeated, trying to push herself off me. Which is what made her aware of my hardened shaft of best US beef which was currently sunk in her pussy. Her eyes and the shape of her mouth seemed to grow. I gave the slightest of thrusts. Her neck, quite suddenly, leapt and stretched and her focus dimmed. I thrust some more, then let it drift slightly out, then pushed it in again. Her eyes had drifted closed. My hands now on her butt. Her butt now slowly rolling. The thrust, withdraw, and thrust, a joint sort of thing we got going. And her open mouth dropped down on mine. The second round!

Pretty soon I'd found her dark panther again. It was as well the cute thing was so young. The energy expended was alarming. Again the guttural growl, and then the mounting speed. We rolled her on her back and I thrust in deep. We rolled onto mine, and she shafted me every bit as hard as I shafted her. The growl climbed up. Became a cry. The kiss a thrust. The squeeze a grab. The stroke a scratch. And Bang! Back we were at the top of the hill, slipped from the bed to the floor, her ankles round my back, locking me tight. Locking her tight. Locking us tight, as my prick sought a deepness and heat that I sense was new to us both. As it swelled even bigger, thrust even harder, received more hungrily than it had been before ... both of us surfed the rainbow. And I pumped, and pumped, and pumped. Then we did it again.

Twice.

Miss Cheng stayed the night. We did it again in the morning. Twice more. But then a funny thing happened. Once we were dressed and ready to leave we exchanged business cards, as everyone does in Taiwan. It was then that I discovered my supplier, Lo Yeung Manufacturing, of which Mr Li was the boss, was in the North of Taipei, whereas Miss Cheng's Low Young Manufacturing, (of which a 'Mr Lee' was the boss?) was on the other side of town. Miss Cheng, lifting her eyes from my card with a look of confusion on her face, asked in a small voice, 'K-Mart is Bloomingdale's, yes?'

'Well actually no,' I replied.