tagInterracial LoveThe Whore At My Door

The Whore At My Door

byAkito01©

I hope this story doesn't turn anyone off the idea of internet dating, since that really isn't my intent. It will, perhaps, serve as a warning of what can happen when hooking up with people out of the blue. I'll refrain from getting into the specifics of the site itself, since it's relatively well known if you've spent any time at all online, and I don't want to cast any aspersions on how it is run.

*

Thankfully, this wasn't the first date I'd been set up on, or I'm sure I'd have given up on it entirely then and there -well, I don't want to get too far ahead of myself, so I'll let the events as they unfolded speak for themselves. Her name was Susan; that was her Americanized name. She had a Chinese name that I have to admit I couldn't properly pronounce or spell. I didn't think to ask in our brief messages if she was first or second generation, and I'm sure that if I'd asked a few questions like that ahead of time I might have avoided a lot of grief.

Instead, our exchanges were very short, simply setting up a day and time for her to arrive at my place. I was excited to have a girl over right like that for the first meeting, and an Asian girl to boot. I guess I fall into that common category of white guys who really dig Asian women, but I never had the opportunity to meet one until this very night.

The situation might have been too good to be true. The time set for our date came and went. I nervously paced around my apartment, increasingly sure this was all a dud. Dinner was cold, and I'd already knocked back a couple of glasses of wine all on my own.

As it turned out, her tardiness was the least surprising detail I would learn about her when she finally appeared at my door. I actually hesitated on greeting her, because I was certain this couldn't be the woman I was due to have a nice introductory meal with. The way she was dressed was, quite frankly, how you'd expect a hooker to dress. She wore a tight black leather skirt, so mini that it barely concealed her modesty. Her short top, shiny and bright pink, exposed more midriff than would be wise for a woman past her teens. Judging by her large dangling earrings, she her taste in jewelry wasn't especially subtle either.

"Hello, hi, yes," she quickly stammered, her accent so thick I was taken aback once again.

In fairness, Susan was not entirely unattractive. Even in her heels, she was a good foot or so shorter than I was, and I always had a yen for shorter women. She was at least five years older than me; perhaps in her late thirties or early forties -not really a negative in and of itself. Granted, she was not especially pretty; the sort of plain but genial face you might see behind the counter of a pharmacy. Still, I was immediately drawn to her sweet looking red-painted lips, and her short black hair was so perfect and fine it literally reflected the light.

The problem was in trying to talk to her. It wasn't just that her accent was strong, but she actually seemed to have a very limited command of the English language at all. I don't want to say that she was right off the boat, since that expression sounds horribly racist to my ears, but within minutes of trying to communicate with her, I was convinced that she couldn't have been in this country for very long at all. As she sat on the couch, I tried to establish if she even knew what kind of dating service she'd signed up for, and if this wasn't all some mistake. There didn't seem to be much point in us going out together if we couldn't even converse properly. None of this seemed to phase Susan, who seemed to be entirely comfortable and confident sitting in my living room, dressed as she was, smiling politely.

I had a kind of horrible thought -maybe she actually was a streetwalker, and used the dating service as a way to turn tricks? Perhaps, as a new immigrant, this is how she made her money? I didn't have any experience with hookers, so I found myself floundering as to how to go about asking -a problem compounded by our failure to communicate.

Without any easy way to ask the question and get a response that wasn't some variation of the word 'OK', I took her by the hand and led her to my bedroom. Actions would have to speak louder than words. Susan didn't object at all as I led her inside and we hopped up on the bed. Biting my lip, I gave her an uncertain smile and reached over to grab the bottom of her top.

It was at this point where any normal woman, no matter where she was from, would have slapped my hand away. It also would have been the time, if she truly were a prostitute, that she'd be asking for money up front before things got any further. Susan, defying either expectation, simply returned my smile and lifted her arms so that I could pull off her garish top, leaving her in her small lavender bra. Not only that, but she reached over and began unbuttoning my own shirt.

All bets were off when she leaned forward and planted a soulful kiss right on my neck, giving me a whiff of her sickly sweet perfume. Just that intimate contact alone had me throwing all rational thoughts to the side, and I took her small body in my arms so I could return that kiss to her own fragrant neck.

With the clarity of hindsight, it isn't hard to spot my folly. Caught in the moment, here I was with a woman I'd just met and barely said more than 'hello' to, slipping my hand under the cup of her bra while her own fingers explored my bare chest. We kissed again, mouth to mouth, tasting each other, grasping at each other. As I pressed and felt the contours of her small but charming breasts, she unzipped the front of my trousers and found the length of my erection straining beneath my briefs.

Clearly, she understood what I was doing, and she was really getting into me. Unzipping her scandalous skirt, she raised her hips so that I could pull it down and off, leaving her in only her lingerie. In turn, my pants joined it on the floor, as well as my underwear. Holding my naked penis, she lowered her head over my lap and began to tease me with her tongue.

She was a brazen woman, and I was all too happy to be taken along for the ride. Taking my length between those sweet lips, she sucked me like a pro, her free hand toying with my congested balls. I gave a extended groan, trying to communicate just how much I enjoyed what she was doing to me. I ran my fingers through her thick raven hair, and silently examined the contours of her compact mature body as she aroused me to even greater heights.

Frankly, I was eager to see more, and I dare say she was ready for some attention of her own. I reached around to unclasp her skimpy bra, and as she scuttled up on the bed, I wasted no time in pulling off those matching panties as well. Her pussy was adorned by hairs as dark and silky as those on her head, bearing the evidence of her excitement by the matting at the join of her legs. I palmed the entirety of her pubis in my hand, pressing and fondling as I simultaneously lowered my head to her chest and sucked her dark colored nipples with merciless force.

Her eyes closed, she afforded me every liberty with her body, showing her own arousal by the helpless sounds she made through parted lips. I squeezed one of her little tits in my hand to make the nipple stand out, and proceeded to suck and gently bite on it until it was nearly rock hard. At the same time, my hand between her open legs was busy rubbing against her slippery lips, occasionally dipping a finger or two into her open and inviting hole.

"I bet you like that, don't you, you little whore," I rasped, taking perverse delight in the fact she couldn't really understand anything I was saying.

Her body spoke volumes, however. She squirmed and strained against me, hips meeting my fingers as I rubbed hard circles around the apex of her stiffened clit. I kissed her ears, neck and lips, my body looming over hers, cock rigid and begging to join in the fun. There was little stopping me, so I took hold of the base of my aching erection and directed the head between the pouting lips of her cunt.

She may have been a small woman, but her experienced pussy had no trouble accommodating the entire length of my member as I pushed it deep inside. Her knees rose in the air of their own accord, her arms wrapping around my back as she welcomed my penetration. Bracing myself up on both arms, I looked down the length of our bodies as I began to fuck her, deliberately drawing my cock almost entirely out before pushing back into her warm, slick intimate channel.

Such a steady pace couldn't be kept up for long. Clasping her small body to mine, her head to my shoulder, I repeatedly jabbed my hips into hers, thrusting with ecstatic urgency. Susan moaned in her own particular way, uttering quick phrases in either Mandarin or Cantonese, but were almost certainly very dirty.

"That's right, little bitch, you like that, don't you," I hissed rudely into her ear, my hand moving to take command of her breast once again.

I fucked her like there was no tomorrow. Every time I felt myself getting closer to orgasm, I'd pause, distracting myself with her cute breasts or kissing her with wanton passion. I could tell Susan was getting to the point of no return herself, as her breathing came shorter and shorter, and sweat plastered her hair to her forehead.

It was useless to resist much longer. My balls were tight and begging for relief, and her helpless whelps only urged me to go harder and faster. Thrusting as deeply as I could into her sopping pussy, I ground myself against her pubis, teeth clenched with the intensity of what was coming over me. Susan felt the same, I'm sure, her own body going stiff, her eyes closed tight as if in pain. It was an incredible orgasm, my semen flowing into her with such volume and force it must have threatened to overflow and spill onto the sheets. For an endless moment, I simply couldn't breathe until those orgasmic pulses finally ebbed away, and I collapsed exhausted onto her simpering frame.

We lay in each others arms for a very long while, eventually falling asleep in the afterglow of what we'd done together.

I woke up the next morning to find Susan already in the kitchen, brewing us some coffee, dressed in one of the plain white shirts from my closet. It was something of an amusing yet charming image, since the shirt was so big on her, she had to turn up the sleeves in order to keep her hands free.

"Good morning," she greeted me in her awkwardly accented way, smiling brightly.

"Yeah, good morning," I said, sitting at the table as she gave me my cup and returned to the kitchen.

I watched in somewhat bemused silence as she helped herself to the fridge and started making breakfast for the both of us. This was a first -most times when I have someone over, I'm the one doing the cooking, which you'd expect as a host to your guests. I suppose this must have been a cultural thing.

In any event, I tried to show my appreciation by smiling and nodding as we ate together. As she cleaned off the table, I grabbed a piece of paper and jotted down my phone number for her.

"In case you want to get together again," I tried to explain.

She took it, thanked me, and put it in the pocket of her (or, rather, my) shirt before starting on the dishes.

I wasn't sure what else to do, so I went to grab a shower, more or less assuming that she'd leave by the time I was done. She didn't, but instead went in to take a shower of her own. Fair enough, I thought, leaving her a couple of fresh towels and her clothes from last night by the door.

Strangely, that wasn't the end either, as even after her shower and the afternoon starting to drag on, she didn't seem too intent on leaving anytime soon. I guess she'd decided to keep me? This was all a bit beyond my experience. In the end, I made a gesture to her that I was taking off, and left the apartment myself.

Thankfully, I had a friend who let me stay over for a few days. I figured by the time I returned home after work on Monday, there was little chance she'd still be around. I was glad to have a place to crash, but all kindness has a cost.

"Chased out of your home by some strange Chinese chick," my friend laughed. "Man, if that isn't the definition of pathetic, I don't know what is."

"Not 'chased out', exactly," I explained. "She just wouldn't, you know, leave. Bit of a communication snafu, you could say."

"Yeah, or you could say that this is another example of you thinking with your cock rather than your head. I bet you didn't even use protection, did you?"

My embarrassed blush was answer enough.

"Well, assuming you didn't get herpes or her pregnant, I'm sure it will all work out great."

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you," I said with due humility.

"Oh, I think this little story is going to keep me amused for a great time to come."

Indeed, if only that had been the end of the story. Imagine my surprise when I returned home on Monday evening, only to be greeted at the door by my little house sitter. She was wearing another of my shirts, a pair of my socks, and the same skirt from the night she arrived.

"Hello, hi, welcome home," she said in rapid fire, giving me a quick hug before leading me by the hand towards the table by the kitchen.

I don't think she'd left the apartment in the entire time I'd been away. Certainly she'd helped herself to my food, and had cleaned up my place to the point I barely recognized it as my own. Even as she fussed about, apparently preparing a dinner for us both, I felt myself getting angry about the situation.

"Susan, we really need to talk," I called to her, motioning for her to come in from the kitchen.

I don't know if she understood either my words or my mood, but she did come to my chair, kneeling down in front of me as if playing the part of a dutiful puppy. She looked up at me with those dark sleepy eyes, hand resting on my thigh, and smiling as if nothing was wrong at all.

I fought for the simplest way to explain how this couldn't go on any longer, stammering and waving vaguely while she slid her hand along the inside of my thigh towards my lap. Apparently, the more flustered I got, the more it amused her to tease me, until she finally undid the front of my pants to expose my hardening erection.

Obviously, this is what got me into trouble in the first place. I tried to move her hand away, but this only encouraged her to shuffle closer and lay her succulent lips against the sensitive flesh of my glans. At this point, a very evil part of my brain reminded me just how good she was at giving head, and that maybe I could confront her about all this AFTER she was done pleasuring me.

Absently running my fingers through her dark silken hair, I pushed my hips forward in the seat, watching her lick and stroke the length of my cock. She didn't have the red lipstick on anymore, but those lips were still captivatingly sweet, especially once they planted themselves on me and opened wide.

I gave a long sigh at the wonderful sensations, her head slightly bobbing as she sucked me in earnest. She occasionally glanced up at me as she worked, but for the most part, Susan remained entirely concentrated on my stiff member. Her hand rhythmically squeezed the base of my cock, encouraging the flow of pre-cum once I'd gotten to that point of ecstatic arousal.

I'm sure she could tell by the tension in my body how close I was getting to orgasm. I clutched the sides of the chair, my hips slightly rising to thrust even deeper into her mouth. She never hesitated for a second, maintaining her rhythm and skill right up until the final moments when I gave a choking grunt and shot the first jets of warm semen into her throat.

Susan kept her lips sealed around my jerking organ for the entire duration of my climax, willingly taking all my ejaculate into her mouth and slurping it down so that none could escape to stain my pants. Milking the last of my fluid, she finally released my moist and softening member, dabbing at the corners of her lips with her hand and looking up at me with that familiar polite smile.

"You've got talent, I have to give you that," I sighed, catching my breath from this delicious orgasm.

She said something in return, something that I didn't immediately understand since I'm pretty sure it was mostly Chinese, except for a phrase that seemed to include the words 'good' and 'wife'.

"Um, sorry, what," I said, shaking my head to signify my confusion. "Did you say 'wife', as in getting married and all that sort of thing?"

Susan's face brightened up at what seemed to be the magic word.

"Marry, yes, marry," she repeated, as happy as if I'd just slipped an engagement ring on her finger.

That was all it took to return to my senses.

"OK, seriously, this has gone on long enough," I stormed, getting up and putting my cock back in my pants (as I should have done the first time). "You understand the word 'no'? N. O. Time for you to get the fuck out of here. You hear me?"

Too pissed to listen to any more of what she had to say, I went into the bedroom to fish around for her heels and top, and then bodily put her out the door. The stupid bitch was finally gone.

I found out later that she was still using that website, and shortly after ended up marrying some guy who worked in I.T. that was even younger than me. I guess she needed to marry to stay in this country. I wish both of them the best of luck; but, seriously, how sad must that relationship be? I'm sure she pulled the same stunt, and he probably had enough trouble getting laid that he must have thought he'd won the jackpot. I wonder what's going to happen long term, when he wakes up and realizes he's sharing his life with someone he can't even talk to?

I don't want to leave the impression that I think all Chinese girls are like her. I suspect she'd be considered nuts in just about any culture. For myself, I'm playing it safe these days, and sticking to Spanish women.

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