Room Service

It doesn't matter how comfortable the seats are, or how good the service is, twelve hours is far too long to spend on an aeroplane. Couple the long flight with moving nine time zones eastwards and I felt wrecked. My body was telling me it was time for bed, but the airport clocks were saying it was still early afternoon. Its just a short taxi ride to the hotel, then I could have a beer, a sleep and prepare myself for the week's work ahead, that was after all the reason I had travelled almost half way around the globe in the first place.

The hotel room was well appointed, the bed was big and comfortable, and the air conditioning was efficiently converting the tropical heat of the city outside into something much closer to the temperatures to which I was accustomed, but sleep evaded me. This often happens to me after a long journey, as much as I wanted to sleep my body and mind just refused to cooperate. With nothing better to do I began to idly flick through the hotel directory, my eye lighted upon an entry for a massage service. Excellent, a good massage is the very thing I need to get me to relax. I dialled the number given, made my enquiry and was told that the masseuse would be with me in about a quarter on an hour; just enough time to take a shower before she would arrive.

I was just drying myself off when there was a quiet knock on the door; I wrapped my towel around my waist and opened the door. Outside was a moderately attractive Chinese looking lady wearing a very unattractive pale pink overall emblazoned with the hotel logo.

"Massage sir?" she asked.

"Yes" I replied letting her in.

Once inside, she went straight into the bathroom and fetched a dry towel which she laid out on the bed then invited me to lie down on my front. Dropping the towel from around my waist I complied. I was mildly surprised and amused when she picked up the towel that I had dropped and laid it over me, so as to preserve my modesty. Once this was done she then knelt on the bed beside me and started work on my shoulders and my neck.

After several minutes of having my neck, shoulders and back kneaded and pummelled by my masseuse's skilful hands I was feeling totally relaxed and had drifted off into that warm haze somewhere between sleeping and wakefulness. Now she had moved her attention to my legs, starting with my feet then my calves. I offered no resistance as my legs where lifted and pulled this way and that so she could work her special magic on my tired aching muscles.

Only when she started working on my thighs and buttocks did I become aware of a subtle change in her technique. My legs were spread and she was kneeling between them. With long firm strokes she repeatedly worked up each thigh then kneaded my buttocks, but these firm business like actions were increasingly interposed with feather light caresses moving higher and higher up my sensitive inner thighs. Several times her fingers brushed across my scrotum in a way that suggested that these touches where much more than simply accidental, or incidental to the main business of my massage. By now there was one part of my body that was far from fully relaxed. When I lifted my hips from the bed to ease the discomfort caused by my compressed and growing erection her hand slipped quickly under me and for a moment she stroked and caressed my swollen member. My penis twitched in her hand and I let out a long low sigh of pleasure, in an instant her hand was gone. Quickly she climbed off the bed and was holding the towel up like a screen and saying.

"Turn over now please".

I rolled over, and she, seeming to ignore what had just passed, draped the towel back over me and knelt astride me, then settled back so her bottom rested lightly on the tops of my thighs. Her overall was pulled up to reveal her legs, and by lifting my head I could just glimpse the dark space between them.

She lent forward and began to massage my shoulders. As she did so I was afforded another tantalising view, this time of her cleavage.

"You like Asian ladies?"

She spoke very quietly, and with her strong accent it took me a moment to work out what she had said. Realisation dawned as to what might be coming next, and my swollen flesh began to throb under the tightly stretched towel beneath which it was trapped.

"Yes" I replied in the same low tone

She sat back on her haunches nodded and then looking directly at me for the first time since entering the room, and asserted quite firmly

"I am good girl, not like girls in Gaylang or Orchard Centre."

Lowering her eyes coyly she continued much more quietly.

" But you nice man, you not try grab me like other men. You make me nice tip for extra special massage maybe?"

It was not the first time I had been propositioned like this. I knew how to play the game.

"All the way?"

I asked quietly, she just nodded her assent. So I continued.

"So how much do other nice men tip you",

"Two hundred dollar."

Her reply was so quiet to be almost inaudible. I made a swift calculation of how much local cash I had in my wallet and of the exchange rate; the price was reasonable.

"Ok" I told her.

"One moment please"

She got up from the bed and went to the room door; there was a soft chink of metal as she slipped the security chain into place.

I sat myself up on the bed, and she stood in front of me swiftly unbuttoning her ugly pink overall. That garment soon fell to the floor and revealed the small black lacy bra and thong set that she wore underneath. Barefoot, her shoes discarded before she had commenced the massage, she gave a little twirl and reaching up released the clip that held her hair so it tumbled long, black and luxuriant over her shoulders. She looked taller and slimmer without that overall. Her long shapely legs supported a tight slim bottom. Her pert round breasts seemed to be begging for release from the captivity of her slightly undersized bra, dark nipples clearly visible through the translucent material. And at her crotch a little tuft of black pubic hair equally visible through her flimsy thong.

With the action of sitting up the towel had moved so that now the very tip of my penis just poked above the edge of the material. She pointed and giggled.

"I think he enjoy the view too"

Then she bade me lie back down and readjusted the towel saying.

"First I finish massage then we have fun"

She resumed the position she had been in before disrobing and began again to massage my shoulders. Now her touch was lighter intended more to stimulate than relax. Her fingers travelled lightly over my upper body caressing and exciting me. From time to time she dragged her nails across my nipples so they soon became hard and sensitive. The towel that was no longer tightly stretched across my body moved as she moved brushing against the swollen head of my penis still further increasing my arousal.

At first I lay back with my eyes closed, letting the waves of pleasure that she induced wash over me, with only low moans and quiet sighs occasionally escaping from my lips. But almost by themselves my hands sought to return the pleasure that her hands were giving me. At first they rested on her thighs stroking and caressing her warm smooth flesh, but then, as if being called, they travelled up her body, eventually finding their goal, her breasts. I gently squeezed and massaged those luscious orbs through her bra until her nipples began to swell and stiffen, their hardness drilling into my palms.

When I reached behind her to release the catch of her bra her hands immediately dropped away from me so I could divest her of that garment without fuss. Revealed in their full glory her breasts stood firm and proud upon her chest, it was obvious that she only wore a bra out of convention, as there was not even the slightest hint of sag when it was removed. At the summit of each of these glorious fleshy hills standing like twin monoliths were her long hard dark nipples. Such beauty demanded proper adoration, gently but firmly I pushed her down so she lay flat on the bed, then kneeling over her and cupping a breast in each hand, my mouth fell to licking and sucking each of her nipples in turn.

My efforts were quickly rewarded by a low moan of pleasure. One of her hands rested on the back of my head, the other snaked between our bodies. Finding my penis she stroked and squeezed my rigid flesh, so I too soon began to sigh and moan with pleasure.

I released a hand from pleasuring her breasts and my fingers set out to explore further this garden of oriental delights. My hand first ran down her flank, over her hip and down the outside of her thigh. Then as it began to retrace its journey her legs parted offering free access to the seat of her sex. The narrow crotch of her thong was already moist and beginning to disappear between the fleshy folds of her outer labia, which were swelling and becoming engorged with the blood of her arousal. Easily my finger slipped under that material covering and started to explore the outer regions of her warm moist cleft. Soon I had found the slightly raised nub of her clitoris.

Now working with two fingers I stroked that little bud so it began to swell and harden. Alternating between firm pressure and soft teasing I was able to control the ebb and flow of her growing arousal. I matched the actions of my fingers at her crotch with the attention my mouth and other hand were paying her pebble hard nipples. Her sighs and moans were becoming louder and more frequent, her hips thrusting up to meet the pressure from my fingers. Her small hand tugged on the hot swollen flesh of my manhood with increased urgency as she hovered on the edge of orgasm.

Suddenly she released my cock and with both hands was pushing on my head, urging me to move down her body. Reluctant as I was to leave her breasts, I gave in to her demands. Slowly I moved down her body dragging my tongue over the smooth quivering flesh of her taught belly until my lips alighted upon her fur covered mound. While I moved my head my hands grasped the waist band of her thong easing it down her legs until it joined the meagre heap of her other clothing on the floor.

I rocked back onto my heels, before continuing. I wanted to take another look at this, now fully naked, young oriental woman sprawled across my hotel bed. Her eyes were half closed, her tongue darted in and out of her mouth, moistening her lips between deep ragged breaths. Her breasts and nipples still stood proud, rising and falling with each breath she took. She shuddered when I touched her. With a hand under each knee I raised and parted her legs so she was fully exposed. The little black tuft that surmounted her mound was the only pubic hair she had, between her legs was smooth and bare. Her dark outer lips were swollen and open revealing the coral pink of her inner flesh.

As she lay before me exposed and venerable, a traitor thought elbowed its way into my consciousness. She was only a whore and I had bought her body for my pleasure; I could just fuck her, give her her money and kick her out of the door with no regard for her orgasm for which she now begged. Or worse, fuck her then refuse to pay her threatening to report her to the hotel management, knowing she would loose her job and be reported to the police, if she made a fuss...

But the woman lying in front of me was no street whore, no tired hag soliciting from dark doorways for a quick fuck. Her moans of pleasure and her arousal were genuine, not the simulated porno film moaning intended only to encourage the John to get on with it and get out...

Away from the world of doorway knee-tremblers, even between whore and client there must exist some contract of trust. Besides, the very words she used to induce me to part with my money had a ring of truth to them. I am a nice man, and giving her pleasure will serve to increase the pleasure I get in return. No, she is no common whore, she deserves better than to be treated like one.

She looks up at me. I see the question in her eyes. Why have I stopped? Why am I denying her the release of her orgasm she so desperately needs?

I lean forwards running my tongue down the inside of her thigh as I move. She sighs and shudders at my touch. I push my hands beneath her grasping her round buttocks then shuffling backwards pulling her to the edge of the bed. I am now kneeling on the floor her most intimate flesh is fully exposed to me, only inches from my face. The scent of her fills my nostrils, no heavy cloying manufactured perfume here, she smells fresh and sweet only the barest hint of muskiness betrays her arousal. I lick my lips in anticipation of the feast I am about to enjoy. Her body calls out to me, the glistening, fleshy, swollen folds of her outer labia, and the coral pink of her inner flesh. The yet paler pink of the tip of her clitoris now peeking almost bashfully from under it hood. Even the dark pucker of her anus calls out to be explored and pleasured.

I bend to my task, for the moment avoiding those regions that want so much to be touched. Softly I brush my lips along the very tops of her thighs, plant kisses in the folds of her groin. Even lightly flick with the tip of my tongue at the point at which the swell of her buttocks fold in for form cleft of her bottom. The coarse black hair of her pubis scratches my nose and lips when I plant generous kisses there. So near yet so far, I continue this exquisite torture for as long as we both can stand it.

Her breathing is heavy, slightly ragged. Her sighs and quiet moans encourage my efforts to pleasure her. Her hips are thrusting and rocking from side to side, but still I manage to avoid touching the place she so desperately wants to be touched. Her hands go to my head, fingers entangled in my hair trying to pull me to where she wants me, but I stop, push her hands away from me and sit back from her.

"Please, please"

She whimpers, begging me to continue. She is almost sobbing. So near yet so far...

I relent, and moving back towards her, I lift her legs onto my shoulders. Extending my tongue I press it into he cleft between her buttocks, then slowly deliberately draw it over her flesh. First I find the tight pucker of her anus, with its slight salty taste. I press it tip of my tongue against it, causing her again to whimper and cry out. But this is merely an hors d'œuvre. Now I am torturing my self as well as her with my deliberate slowness.

Another pause, then I move on seeking out the plat principal of this delicious repast. With the very lightest of touches I first encounter the taste of her, just enough to let the tangy savour infuse across my tongue. She tries to thrust her hips at me, to hurry me on, but I hold her firmly, for the moment, at least, I dictate the pace. Yet, by now neither can I hold back any longer. I thrust my tongue forwards, penetrating the hot moist folds of her waiting flesh. The lips of my mouth engage the lips of her pussy, joining in a long, slow, deep, passionate kiss. My mouth is filled with the tangy flavour of her, her juices flow freely and eagerly I lap them up.

Her breathing changes again, the time of agonising anticipation has passed. The tension in her body has changed, no longer held back on very the edge of the precipice, but still not quite in the freefall of orgasm. Now she is stepping back from the edge, bracing her self for the run up that will launch her into flight.

Sensing the change in her I know that I have tortured her long enough, now I must deliver that which my actions have promised. I close my lips into a tight pucker, concentrating my attentions on the very nub and root of her arousal, that tiny spot which is also the key to her release. I suck hard on her swollen and exposed clitoris, flicking my tongue over its very tip as I suck. I shift my position slightly so my fingers can join in the final assault. The entrance is open, but she is small and tight, one finger slips in with little resistance, but two take time and patience.

With two fingers now deep inside her I twist and turn them, then curling them back I find what I have been seeking; that small, spongy swelling, her g-spot. She had stopped and held her self still allowing my fingers ready access to her body, but how the second wave of my invading force was in place the breaks came off. As I found that magic spot and began to massage it a low almost animal growl erupted from her mouth.

Now the run-up had begun in earnest, as the moment of release came closer and closer, her moans and cries got louder and shriller. She thrashed about the bed so that I had difficulty keeping my mouth and fingers working their spell upon her. Then it came, she began to shake uncontrollably as wave after wave of orgasmic spasms gripped her. Her inner muscles clamped down almost crushing my fingers inside her, making me yelp with pain. She fell strangely quiet, but lay there twitching violently as if someone was sending great jolts of electricity through her body.

The moment of climax had peaked, the spasms were subsiding; her hands were again on my head, not pulling me towards her now, but pushing me away. I know that in some women that intense wave of pleasure can quickly turn to pain. I released her, with drew my fingers from inside her body. I placed the lightest kiss upon her pubic mound, and gently caressed her legs and sides with the very tips of my fingers, but even these lightest of touches caused her to shudder.

Soon she had become calmer, her breathing slowed and a beautiful smile spread across her lips. Now it was my turn, I wanted to take dessert, my own sweet release. But as I moved to reposition myself for this concluding act two things happened. First the slow realisation that while all my energies where focused on giving her pleasure, my own frail, neglected flesh had wilted and now hung limp and pathetic between my legs. The second, as my leg brushed against hers she realised my intentions.

"No, no, wait"

She cried out and wriggled with surprising speed away from me. Franticly she sort out then rummaged through the small bag the she had be carrying when she first arrived. With a small flourish she produced a square foil package. Of course, how stupid of me to forget, safety first!

It was then she noticed the sad state of my once proud penis. She clicked her tongue and an expression of sad disappointment passed across her face. Then she brightened.

"Never mind" she said "we soon make him proud again"

Control of the situation had now passed back to her. She had me lie back on the bed and gently massaged my wilted flesh until once more it began to swell and grow hard. She knelt beside me and leaned over me, her long hair brushed against my thighs as her face move closer to my renewed erection. A sudden shock as a stream of cold air passed over my hot and sensitised flesh, I almost jumped. An old and delightful trick that I had experienced too few times in my life before, she was blowing on me. The sudden coolness served to increase the blood flow, the compensating inner heat causing my manhood to stand even harder and more proud.

First cold, then heat: a single long stroke of her tongue passed over my shaft, and then soft lips engulfed my glans. A gentle suction, a swirl of the tongue over that most sensitive part of my body, then the pleasure was removed. Soft kisses where placed on my thighs and close to the base of my shaft. This woman was an artist, but there was also something else. Something that caused me to laugh,

"You paying me back now?"

"Yes" she giggled " You naughty man you tease me long time make me wait for my cum. But time short now, I must go soon or be in trouble with boss"

With that she picked up the foil package from where she had put it on the bed, ripped it open and rolled the condom onto my penis. Moving quickly now, giving me no choice on how things should proceed she squatted over me. Grabbing my shaft with her hand, first she rubbed the tip over her moist flesh, and then bore down on me pushing my flesh inside of hers. She winced as I entered her,