Mellow Yellow Ch. 27

My kisses brought me face-to-face with his penis. I reached out and touched his manhood, putting into play the lessons I learned in the dark in Paul's office. Gently, the same way Paul played with himself, I stroked his member along its length, from his pubic hairs to its tip. I enjoy the sensation of swollen veins of his penis lying below the smooth skin, whether it's in my hand or in my vagina. Smell is important as taste to oral sex, as I learned from my experience with Vanessa. Vanessa taught me to love the scent of my own secretions on Paul. In my elevated state of arousal, the scent of a woman on Paul seemed stronger than ever. Was it the estrogen coursing through my body or didn't he take a shower today?

Then, I did the one thing that Paul couldn't do for himself. I placed the tip of Paul's penis in my mouth. To tell you the truth, I put his penis as far into my mouth as I could without triggering my gag reflex. Then I slowly pulled his sex out and back in again, letting my lips pleasure in turn that which my fingers had just caressed.

I have read that television is bad for you because it creates hitherto unknown needs and impossible expectations in the audience. Paul's little television show created in me the need for oral sex. I am ashamed to admit to a renowned sex therapist but I haven't had Paul's tongue between my thighs for two years because of a lecture on female sexual health I attended. Besides, I had Vanessa's tongue a month before the lecture and a woman's the best. But Vanessa's tongue was elsewhere tonight and I needed Paul's tongue where it counts. It wasn't unreasonable for me to request oral sex after a two-year hiatus, was it?

Paul gasped with surprise as I straddled his chest almost sat on his face. I didn't say anything because that would be admitting that I had been wrong denying Paul the pleasure of tasting my femininity. I let his fingers spread me apart and felt his warm tongue penetrate my sex. To return the pleasure, I took Paul's member into my mouth, as much as I could fit in. I let my tongue caress his glans ever so gently.

We locked our arms around each other and rolled around in a 69 embrace the same way Vanessa and Mrs. Nguyen rolled around in our guest room. Oral sex was just as good as I remembered. And Paul hadn't forgotten a thing either. I wanted to revel in the gentle stimulation that a tongue provides to a woman's clitoris but I was far too aroused by what I had seen. I fell off the sexual cliff that I had been climbing for an hour. I exploded into orgasm, spitting out Paul's penis with an ecstatic gasp. This orgasm seemed to go on for eternity, making me alternately scream in agony or laugh uncontrollably.

I thought this orgasm would finish me for the night. Thinking that some cuddling and postplay would be nice, I lay down beside Paul. However, the restless burning feeling between my thighs wouldn't quit. I don't think it helped that I analyzed my evening's sexual experiences from when I entered Paul's office to when Paul's tongue entered my genitals. I ran my hand over the hair on his chest and along his stomach. Paul was still erect! If I wasn't finished and Paul wasn't finished, the obvious solution was what came naturally.

I squatted over Paul, spreading my labia to accommodate his large swollen member. With difficulty because of his size and my tightness, I forced myself apart and pushed myself down on his organ. I know, Sui-Beng that you have confided in me that you find Charles' member intimidating in size until the moment he enters you. Sex with Paul is like that as well. Sometimes I tremble that I will never accommodate his girth and length within me. The trick with such a large penis, as I'm sure you discovered, is to allow the beautiful thing to enter you slowly so that your internal muscles expand around it.

Since Paul is circumcised, he has this ridge at the end of his penis that I can rub over the most sensitive parts inside my vagina when I'm on top. I think I was tighter than usual inside because of the long buildup to coitus. I could feel that penis ridge progress up my vagina; I felt every vein on his shaft push the opening of my vagina apart. It was so slow and exquisite but then, I was in charge tonight.

When I had just enough of Paul's penis inside, I thrust my pelvis forward to get his ridge rubbing that delicious itchy place deep within me, up near the top of the vagina. Is that my G-spot, Sui-Beng? You know so much more about sexual matters than I do. My lower body roll got whatever the spot is called just right. I started rubbing the spot slowly and then a little faster. It felt so stimulating that I abandoned all caution, rubbing his tip right where I needed it, as fast as I needed it. Then that tingling ache, as if I was about to urinate, began in the area of my uterus. That's the feeling I get when I am building towards a prolonged, intense orgasm.

When the orgasm came, I screamed in pain and ecstasy as my insides tightened up, electric shocks coursed through my limbs and my head swam in a sea of colours. I didn't care who heard me or who I might wake up. I don't think I've had one of that intensity for years. But then, I've never been as turned on as I was from watching Vanessa and Mrs. Nguyen have sex. I guess that Paul just had to flip the switch to make the colours come on for me.

When the orgasm was over, I could tell from his placid expression that Paul hadn't had his yet. Has Charles ever outlasted you, Sui-Beng? The only time that Paul ever outlasted me was years ago when he had been out all evening carousing with his Polish friends and came home smelling of too much vodka. That night, he must have ground on me for an hour and a half before he had his orgasm, groaned and collapsed on me from exhaustion. He wasn't drunk tonight, so I don't know why I couldn't make him come to orgasm. Was I losing my skills?

Determined to make Paul come, I ground on him and tightened my inner muscles around his penis. I learned how to do that from your therapist's training manual (p. 67 – tighten your sphincter muscles as if you are trying to refrain from urinating. The patient will inevitably come to orgasm). It took what seemed to be hours for Paul to finally come. When he came, I don't think he enjoyed himself as much as I did. He grimaced a little and ejaculated a tiny amount of sperm. I was so sore, I think I rubbed my vagina dry from all the grinding and clinching.

Paul rolled over and was quickly asleep just like a man. I was perspiring, exhausted but strangely satisfied as never before in my life. Yes, I was satisfied but I was also excited at embarking on a new sexual journey. The Mei-Ling who went to sleep that night was not the same Mei-Ling as she was in the morning. I still can't believe it but I went to sleep planning to invite Hanna Le and Ted Kowalski to stay overnight in our guest bedroom. Voyeurs can be so hospitable.

Now, let's discuss my new sexual experience, Sui-Beng. Help me resolve my dilemma. I can't stress enough how watching others engaging in sexual activity aroused me. Is this healthy mentally? Am I a pervert, watching two women having lesbian sex? Is that more or less perverted than watching my own husband having a wank? Have I merely exchanged bisexuality for a new perversion? I always thought that voyeurism was practiced exclusively by dirty old white men peeking up skirts or down blouses. I never thought that a respectable mother of four and health care professional such as I could be so fascinated by watching.

On the other hand, can anything that resulted in such great sex be immoral or bad for a relationship? Is watching others in my own home any different from your work, observing your professional sex therapists in practice and then winning awards in scholarly journals by writing about it? Has your work lifted voyeurism from the milieu old men in trench coats peeping through windows into scientific respectability? Tell me honestly. Do the things you have watched "on the job" sexually arouse you? Charles must be so lucky when you come home after a "hard" day's work at the office!

Tran Mei-Ling

Paul's Epilogue

And that's how my problems with my two unwanted houseguests solved themselves, as so many problems seem to do. Vanessa kept her word and never bothered Melinda as long as she stayed in our house. However, she immediately got her tongue into the nearest available Vietnamese pussy, Mrs. Nguyen. Guess what? The two of them clicked and spent the next month in my basement performing on camera, unbeknownst to them. I hooked up my VCR and I have lots of tapes of every possible thing that one woman can do to another. I never knew that lesbians were so ingenious.

Not only did the problems of the two women solve themselves but also I got my tongue into Melinda's pussy after two years of muff-diving drought. Melinda's renewed interest in oral sex that night must have been triggered by watching the two women on the TV monitor. Yeah, I knew she was there all along. Melinda was quiet but she forgot about her perfume. Givenchy, remember? I waved the stick at her to divert her interests from Vanessa to me. OK, so there's a little bit of the flasher in me as well as the voyeur.

Since we both developed a mutual interest in voyeurism, I had to find a way to "out" Melinda in a face-saving kind of way. Vietnamese women are so reluctant to talk about sex. To tell you the truth, I like it that way. When it comes to sex, I prefer to be a doer, not a talker. Our VCR solved the problem of how to get Melinda to admit she liked to watch. Melinda noticed it missing so I admitted that I had a camera rigged up in the basement bedrooms, uh, strictly for security purposes of course. My excuse was that Melinda never trusted Mrs. Nguyen. Didn't she want me to keep an eye on our guests so that Mrs. Nguyen didn't help herself to "five-finger discounts"? Melinda was all too eager to help out with an obvious security problem. She sat right by my side in my office every night they went to bed together. She even edited a couple of the tapes, adding a feminine touch to our homemade pornography. Right now, Melinda's busy doing up a list of couples to invite for a stay.

After a month of living with Melinda and me, Vanessa Reyes got a job and an apartment. Mrs. Nguyen moved in with Vanessa and Pablo. They make a great family unit. Mrs. Nguyen provides Vanessa's kids with an elder figure, so necessary in an Asian household. She baby-sits the kids, while Vanessa works. Like Melinda, I never knew Mrs. Nguyen had the maternal instinct in her. In return, Vanessa and her kids give Mrs. Nguyen her first real family in her life and the security she needs. By the way, "kids", in the plural, is not a misprint. Eight months after moving out of our house, Vanessa gave birth to a baby girl, Pauline. I was the godfather at Pauline's baptism. Well, maybe my status was a little higher status than godfather.

Right now, they're waiting to see how Parliament's same-sex marriage bill turns out. Since Mrs. Nguyen is a Canadian citizen, that would solve Vanessa's problems with immigration status. I look in on them every so often, to make sure that Mrs. Nguyen is taking care of Vanessa's and my children. I'm no absentee father, even if Vanessa is a dyke mother. Besides, even though she's getting on in years, sometimes Mrs. Nguyen is in the mood for a bit of white dick.

I treasure those tapes I made of the two women eating each other's pussy. Any time I get a craving for a bedtime snack of Vietnamese pussy, I pop a tape in the bedroom VCR. If I'm quick, I can beat Melinda's hand going down between her legs. These tapes are so effective turning on Melinda that I'm thinking of offering them for sale. They'd be great for any guy whose woman is denying him a taste of pussy. They're just as effective for voyeur couples like us. What do you think would be a reasonable price? $24.95 Canadian? VHS or DVD?