tagFetishThe Japanese Exchange Student

The Japanese Exchange Student


For a whole month now I'd been fantasising about Yuki, the Japanese exchange student staying with our family. She was so damn innocent, not at all like the outlandish Japanese girls I'd been watching lately on the internet. They would allow any kind of perversion I could think of to be done to them, and then some.

I longed for Yuki to be in my office right now, licking my testicles as I jerked my straining penis, my legs spread and feet up on the desk. The thought added intensity to my pornography viewings, and I had to constantly restrain my ejaculation, wiping each globule of clear pre-seminal fluid onto my lips as it seeped from me.

I wondered what she would be wearing right now, tucked into her bed. Would she be in t-shirt and panties? Pyjamas? I wondered what they wore to bed in Japan, on those little tatami mats and low slung matresses I'd seen in the films. What kind of dreams would they dream, how did they think? Were they so different from us here in Australia? Their sexuality seemed so incredibly advanced compared to the rest of the world.

On screen a rather large breasted young girl was on her knees on the floor as man after man came forth and ejaculated ropes of sperm into her open mouth. She seemed to love it, which I found exceptionally strange. Western women would gag in revulsion at such images and many feminists would scream bloody murder. It even took me some time just to be able to look at such a scene without feeling a sense of revulsion. Yet now I was beginning to find it strangely compelling, as my westernised sensitivities started to loosen up and I began to open my mind to other possibilities in life.

I glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen. It was already two in the morning. I'd been up here for three hours, supposedly finishing my doctorate, which was almost overdue. My wife, Eva, daughter Elizabeth, and of course Yuki, were all fast asleep, despite the steadily increasing thrashings of a tropical summer storm.

I knew I should finish up soon, shoot my load into a tissue and retire to bed so I wouldn't be too drained for work tomorrow. I began to skip forward to the final scenes of the movie, the part I could only watch when my balls were tight, crinkled little sensitive walnuts and the head of my penis was bulbous and constantly seeping clear fluid.

The girl held a cup full of semen up to her lips as if it were the last drink she would ever have. There must have been the seed of some fifty or so men right there in that beaker. Why they used scientific tools I'll never know. Her smooth skin was so shiny with sperm she couldn't open her eyes and even some of her hair was matted and sticky. Just the thought of a girl so in love with such a product, so willing to fill her belly with it, so outrageously oversexed, made me finally willing to allow the brewing explosion deep within me to make its way to the surface. She looked like some kind of starving, biblical, nymphomaniac whore of Babylon.

All of a sudden I heard a strange tapping.

My cock convulsing, I managed to hold back, removing my earphones and straining to hear it again, wondering if I should be pulling my pants back up. Was there somebody out there or was it merely the storm. I knew one thing, I sure as hell didn't want to be caught in such a compromising position. Eva had never understood my fascination with pornography.

Tap, tap, tap.

There it was again. Oh shit, it must be Eva, I thought, wrenching my pants up my legs as quietly as possible and quickly closing the movie page.

Slowing myself down, I made an effort to quietly put away my tissues and tuck my steel rod under the elastic waistband of my pants, then leant forward slightly as I opened the study door.

As the door swung open I was shocked to see Yuki standing there.

She seemed terribly embarrassed as her cheeks were marshmallow pink.

But God, she looked delectable. Wearing a white, oversized T-shirt that had a baseball on it as well as some Japanese characters. Her black hair reflected the light from my desk lamp, shimmering with health, thickness and vitality. Her eyes were liquid pools of darkness, as wide and bright as a doe caught in the headlights and not knowing which way to hop.

"Oh... I'm so sorry Mr. Dowell... I don't want disturbing you..."

I motioned with my finger to my lips so as not to wake the rest of the household. "No, no Yuki," I smiled, realising I myself felt slightly warm in the face. "That's quite alright." I waved her in. Only so the others wouldn't be woken by our conversation.

I wondered what was wrong. Then, realising my penis was making a tent in my shirt, I coughed in a pathetic attempt to distract her from noticing and quickly sat down. Yet I was sure she had seen it. It stuck out like a... Well, like an erect penis. My heart pounded as I wondered what kind of a perverse man she would think I was and what I had been up to. I felt my face get even hotter.

"What is it?" I prompted, taking in the small mounds of her breasts in my peripheral vision as I looked into her eyes with concern. God, all I could think of was how delicious she looked, how much I wanted to pull her toward me and kiss her milky white skin.

"It's the storm. It makes me feel... really frightened. Oh, I'm so sorry to bother you.... It's just, well, I saw the light under your door, and I wondered...." She almost cringed with embarrassment. "I wondered if you could accompany me to... To the bathroom."

My heart stopped beating.

"I mean... Just if you could stand outside the door while I went... Just so I know someone's there. It's the wind. The noise it makes really scares me. It's so silly of me, I know."

It certainly was true and now that I'd removed my headphones, I realised that there was certainly an eerie quality to the wind tonight. That eerie howling sound, like air being sucked through small cracks and crevices by the old house. I remembered also being afraid when I was a kid and running to my parents bedroom for comfort.

I smiled affectionately. "Sure Yuki, that's no problem. I'd be happy to, although I'm not too sure if it is the proper thing for me to be doing..."

"Oh, that's okay," she said, crestfallen. "It's no problem, I'm sure I can go by myself."

"Well, no no, it's not that. It's just..." I sighed, smiling, wondering how to explain the situation.

"I won't tell anyone you helped me like this if you don't want me too..." She gave me a brave smile. "I don't want you to have shame... To lose face."

God, how I wished my erection would subside. I would step on razorblades to help Yuki, especially in a situation such as this. Over the past few weeks I'd really come to adore her sweet attitude and kind heart. She always went out of her way to help everyone.

"I'd love to..." I stammered, "I mean... I'll help you Yuki. It's no problem at all."

She beamed gratefully, clasping her hands together and bowing slightly. God, how I loved it when she did that.

"Can we go now? I really need to... Oshiko..." She giggled slightly, covering her mouth with her hand, her nails the colour of perfect pearls, with a pinkish natural hue underneath.

I smiled, surreptitiously tucking my penis back below my waistband and standing up in front of my chair.

Together we tiptoed up the hall toward the bathroom, neither of us saying a word. Indeed it was as if there was some kind of understanding between us. I felt like a naughty schoolkid again, trying not to wake up mum and dad. Although, this time, I was the dad, and I was trying not to wake up my wife and daughter.

Eva. Jesus, what would she think about this little escapade? What the hell did I think about it? Was it ethical? Was it morally responsible? Was it wrong? I guessed in my mind I could pass it off as some kind of cultural difference. Maybe it was normal in Japan for a man, not even of the family, to accompany a girl less than half his age to the toilet? Was it? Now was not the time to worry. Now was just the time to do.

As she walked before me I watched the twin mounds of her tiny buttocks flex with each measured step beneath her shirt. I could clearly see the line of her panties on the crest of each cheek. I gulped as my mouth started to water.

I realised how much I didn't want anyone to wake up and ruin this very intimate moment I was sharing with little Yuki. I was hoping she understood that Eva most likely wouldn't see this as the innocent event it most certainly was.

Wasn't it?

The toilet was a small separate room next to the bathroom, with a slight hint of lavender scent from the vase of flowers Eva had set on the high windowsill.

Yuki turned the handle slowly and pushed the door open. Outside the wind's howls increased in volume, and the sounds of branches slapping against the house intensified.

No wonder she was frightened.

I felt odd, standing there beside the door, as Yuki turned and gave me an innocent and grateful smile. She pushed the door gently toward me as she stood in front of the toilet. I took the handle and helped her close it, although she stopped me just before it clicked into the frame. She motioned with her hand for me to wait, and to leave it slightly ajar.

My heart pounded with immediate, fiery desire. I don't think I've ever been so aroused in my entire life. I was turning day by day into more and more of a sick, twisted pervert. The iron rod in my pants and the thoughts of this beautiful, fragile young creature behind the door, probably pulling her panties down this very moment, was making me forget where I was. She was making me forget who I was.

I held my breath, listening to every shuffle, every rustle of clothing, every click of the toilet seat, waiting for the musical sounds of her relieving herself.

I wondered what her panties looked like. What colour they would be? Would they be taut against her pubic mound? Her vaginal lips tightly together, without so much as a hint of her labia minora peeking out from between? Would the material be slightly impressed into the crease? Would she be silky and moist?

How would she smell? Would her scent hold a hint of the orient from which she had sprung? Would it be fresh like a spring stream, slightly damp with the fragrance of a rainforest, subtle, delicate and fluid? Would her pubic hair be thick and bushy, reminiscent of the lush, lengthy body of hair on her head? Or would it be light, a few soft strands perched atop what I was certain, would be the most beautiful sexual organ on a woman the earth had ever produced.

I allowed my hand to slide under my tank top, to cup the peeping head of my manhood. It was so wet with pre-come I feared my shirt would be dampened.

From the slowly widening wide gap came the sounds of a few drops of liquid falling into water. A sigh of contentment, almost washed away by the thrashing wind. Then the subtle hiss of her stream leaving her urethra and gushing against the inner wall of the bowl.

I realised my cock was in my hand, my fist circling it and squeezing it with each pulsing throb. My mind was lost, I was a bird in the sky, without a home, without a conscience, without a sense of shame.

All too soon, I heard her stream start to dwindle and I slowly emerged from my cocoon. Quickly I slipped my cock back under my waistband, almost ejaculating inside my shirt. I heard Yuki shuffle slightly, the sound of toilet paper ripping, and a patting sound as she gently wiped the droplets from herself.

She pulled the door inwards and I caught the slightest glimpse of tight, powder pink panties before her shirt dropped to cover them.

Had she done that on purpose? Over the years I'd come to realise that women have a certain power that they use over men, a glimpse of lace, a hint of plump thigh. The jury was still undecided as to whether they acted consciously or not, but whatever it was, there was certainly some level of awareness of the effects their subtle actions had on the male of the species.

Or was there? An erect penis is perhaps the male equivalent of this phenomenon, with the strange ability to override a male's usual sensibilities, lower his levels of willpower and put him in touch with dormant, animalistic, caveman-like urges.

She smiled when our eyes met. It was a smile that indicated she could read the lust on my face and sense what I had been thinking. I guess I wasn't hiding it very well. I could smell a faint scent in the air of her pee, and behind that scent, like the unfolding of flavour from a fine wine on the tongue, was a perfect aroma of female fertility and sexuality.

She looked down at the bulge in my pants, and the wet spot at the tip of the peak, and gazed back up into my eyes.

There was a look on her face I remembered well. It was a look my wife wore many years before, when we had only just met, when we were still in our teens.

It was a look of urgent need.

Without a word she motioned me forward. Without a word I came forward, my mouth suddenly dry, my mind on free-fall auto-pilot.

She gently closed the door behind me and we were alone in the toilet, the wind merely background noise to the rush of blood in my ears.

She closed the toilet lid and sat down, her face level with my erection, and licked her lips erotically.

I gulped. There was no time to think. Thinking was not an option.

She raised her hand, sweeping back bangs of inky black hair and reaching forward, slowly, ever so slowly, her hand hovering before my straining erection.

"Is it okay?" she whispered.

I could only nod in response.

She rubbed my dick with both hands, a low moan escaping her, her eyes closing in lust and abandon.

Her finger touched the wetness, rubbing it then feeling the texture between her fingers.

She hooked the waistband and pulled my pants out and over, freeing my cock like a jack-in-the-box, to stand boldly red, inches from her moist, parted lips.

A faint thought drifted unwanted through my mind.

This was wrong.

We shouldn't be doing this.

I shouldn't be doing this.

I'm old enough to be her father. I'm supposed to be looking after her.

The thoughts dissipated with the first wet, silken lap of her tongue.

It felt like my penis was at one hundred degrees and I had just dipped the tip into ice water. Or I'd been rubbing it on sandpaper and the tip was now encased in cool chocolate mousse. The soothing sensation unlike any other.

It was ecstasy. Heaven. A dream. A wish come true.

Her mouth encased the head and a low moan escaped her as I shuddered, feeling a knot of fluid slide up the shaft and escape into her mouth.

This only spurred her on. I could see her tasting my fluid, rolling it around on her tongue, as if testing it on each and every tastebud, before letting it dissolve into part of her own saliva.

She encased my cock with her right hand, her left moving to my balls and she began bobbing her head up and down on my penis, sucking, slurping, juicing me for all I was worth.

I didn't want it to ever end. It was the most delicious sensation I could imagine. I held her head lovingly, feeling the luxurious texture of her hair as her tongue swirled around the glans of my erection.

Her fingers stroking my balls slipped lower, onto my perineum, pressing gently.

It was too much. My prostate awoke and my penis began jerking with warning of impending impact.

Her finger went further back and pressed into my anus.

Where she learnt these amazing skills I'll never know.

Nor did I care.

I exploded within her with tremendous ferocity. I could feel rope after rope enter her waiting mouth, filling her and coating her with my seed.

Her finger curled, the tip entering me as I continued to ejaculate.

Her mouth lifted off, cheeks bulging, and another squirt fired off, arching over her face like a long sticky spider-web, then landing, clinging to her hair and face.

Another surge followed by another. Her lips again tried to capture the molten sperm as her finger, hooked in my ass, pulled my cock toward her. I don't think I've ever come so much in my entire life.

She looked up at me with innocence and delight, smiled, and opened her mouth.

It was flooded with white and transparent semen. She rolled her tongue around in it as if it was the tastiest beluga caviar known to man, as I watched transfixed. Her finger dug deeper, massaging my prostate affectionately.

She closed her lips and her eyes and I could see her mouth working it to the back of her throat, then a large gulp, ingesting the mouthful of semen like the porn starlet on the movies I had just been watching.

I stood speechless, the magnitude of what I had just done crashing upon me.

My life, my wife, my family.

And Yuki.

Why is it women always seem infinitely more knowledgeable than men?

All my life, in moments like these, I realised men knew basically nothing. We thought we knew it all, oh sure, but the reality was we were child-like pawns playing a game of which we didn't really understand the rules.

She slowly withdrew her finger from my nether regions, licked her lips and stood up, tearing off a few squares of toilet paper.

I stood there quivering with fear at my mistake. Frightened for myself; for what lay ahead.

Yuki only smiled, without a worry in the world.

"Thankyou Mr. Dowell, I needed that badly."

She opened the door and walked away, looking back only to throw me a smile and a soft giggle.

When I'd finally pulled myself together, showered and brushed my teeth I made my way to bed.

Thinking that the wages of sin is death, I lay down beside Eva. I knew I would never be able to get to sleep. I was filled with a dread that left me pensive. The feeling of utter satisfaction from what had just taken place and the looseness of my balls was strangled by cloying sense of guilt.

In the morning I would most likely begin paying penance for what I'd done, in one way or another. We always did.

That was when I realised Eva was not asleep. Her breathing was heavy and inconsistent.

She only said five words.

That was all that was needed to strike an almost heart-attack-like response.

All she said was...

"I know what you've done."

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by Anonymous

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by Anonymous08/07/14

Read through the comments, not sure what 'the silent H look' is, and from another, I don't know what a 'WS story' is. (This is labeled as Fetish, and hey, japanese schoolgirl exchange student or whatevermore...

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