Sex Tourist Ch. 32-33

While she dressed, he took the necessary equipment from his carpet bag.

"Now, sit in the armchair, draw your legs up on the arms, grab your shoes by the arches of their soles, and pull back ... now slide down a little and bring your bum up."

Kim's crotch was now up-tilted, giving him ready access to her pussy and anus.

He pulled her gusset to one side and held up a battery operated wand of LED lights.

"First, I'm going to stick this in your ass."

He lubed the wand, and gently worked it in, with Kim pressing and wriggling her hips to help.

He then held up a shot glass. "Now, this goes in your pussy."

Kim was dubious. "Do you think it will fit also?"

"I hope so. My plan depends on it."

He lubed the glass and, despite its slipperiness, lending it a tendency be ejected by the compression, succeeded in working it in until the rim disappeared, and her vaginal entrance contracted sufficiently behind it, to hold it in place. Inside, her vagina stretched wide and clung tightly to the wall of the glass. He turned on the wand and turned of the room lights.

'That's the effect I want," he said.

Kim's cavernous vagina glowed pinkly in the dark, illuminated by the light shining through her septum.

To Kim, it appeared as if coals glowed between her thighs. "That look creepy," she observed.

Trevor readied his camera, then brought himself to a climax, jetting into the glass. He immediately set about taking photos of the result.

"They've come out well," he told Kim, "Just hold that pose and I'll take some shots with the lights on.

That done, he removed the wand and glass.

"Now, back to bed. I've always wanted to fuck a Roadhouse girl in her cute costume."

After a little image manipulation, Trevor posted some stunning photos of Kim in her Roadhouse costume, with her magical vagina, gaping and glowing, and containing the evidence of her customer's appreciation.

Wayne liked the shots. He emailed:

'"Whoooaa Trev. Fantastic. Please, please show me how you do that, next time. Now I'm breaking my balls to get back and fuck Kim again."'

Chapter 33.

Some like it rough.

In August 2005, Trevor took his final vacation in Angeles. The next time he came, he would come to stay. He sat with Wayne at the street wall of Kokomo's sipping beer, watching the girl's wend their way to work, looking for a tasty morsel to hook, as Jake and Evan had done on his first visit. He thought of the girls who had got away: Allyza, Boxi, Brianne; girls who could have made him happy - and he pined.

He felt like the fishermen in a public park, who had the pleasure of fishing, but anything he caught was thrown back to provide entertainment for others. He wanted a fish for his own private pond. Of course, he would welcome other fishermen, but when his fish had given them the pleasure of the hunt, she would be thrown back into his pond, his property, for his proprietary usages.

He had planned his pond. A house in Diamond Subdivision was up for sale. He had agreed a purchase. Lawyers were already employed to create the device whereby he would control the corporation which owned the property; he, as an alien, being unable to own the property himself. It would all be wrapped up by Christmas, and in January he would begin a new life in a new home. His bungalow would have four bedrooms, 3 wet-rooms, one en-suite in the master bedroom, a large sala, a large kitchen, a wash house, a roofed and railed breakfast porch, a front garden, a back garden containing a five metre swimming pool, some shade trees, and a surrounding wall to ensure his privacy.

It was too big for a single man, but he wanted a home into which he could welcome people, where they could sit and eat, or stay overnight. He also wanted a woman to love and to share it with him. That was why he had come to the Philippines in the first place, in search of love before he died.

"Sometimes, Kim can be a total asshole," said Wayne. "While I'm away earning the bread, she fucks every guy who has 600p to spare, and when I'm here, wants me to fuck only her."

"Problems at home?" enquired Trevor.

"I'm fucking lucky to be able to speak with you today. When I'm here she wants to be with me all the time. Well ... That's nice. We bar-fined a girl, out of Blue Nile, the other night. It was great, they were really into each other, and when I got round to fucking them I was horny as hell ... That was nice ... But I need a bit of personal space. I need to go out with the boys, pick a bar-fine, take her to a hotel and fuck her ... just a boys'-night-out ... Just, once a week."

"Maybe she's a bit sticky 'cause she only gets an occasional couple of weeks with you?" suggested Trevor.

"I know ... That, is it ... for three months I think about all these other guys fucking her, then, running on pent up lust, I fuck her like a jack-rabbit for a week ... then I need a bit of space for a day ... But, if she's not being fucked, she gets bored."

"And threesomes don't meet both your needs?"

"It's just a fresh air thing ... so I don't feel I'm being suffocated ... once a week."

"Maybe you need to swing a little. Meet another couple and swap for a night."

"Fucking brilliant! ... Where's your girl? Let's do it," said Wayne.

"Still single," said Trevor.

"That one over there's giving you the eye."

Trevor frowned. "The girl with the squint?"

"Yes."

"Remember, were swapping," said Trevor. "I'll be fucking Kim."

"Oh fuck! Yes," said Wayne, "Don't rush ... Choose someone who'll tighten my nuts like a monkey wrench."

For the next few days Trevor toured the bars sampling different girls, eventually settling on a girl from Insomnia. Rechelle was twenty-one, five feet tall, with a rounded figure and straight black hair that hung to her waist. He had spotted her in the street, and walked her to work. He bought her a ladies drink, and they chatted amiably. Trevor said he would like to see her dance. She went on stage, stripped to her underwear, and danced enthusiastically at him, thumbs down the sides of her thong, flashing her shaven pussy.

Mama-San leaned on his table. "Rechelle is a good choice. She is a three-hole-girl ... very popular. Do you like to bar-fine with her now? She will not be available later."

Trevor paid her bar-fine.

Mama-San was right; she was a good choice. For a week he enjoyed her company, and as he escalated his requirements, she never demurred. Her breasts were full enough to be bound, and when he pinched her nipples as Toppsy had required, she orgasmed.

"Slap my face ... Fuck me ... and slap my face ...Pull my hair," she panted.

Trevor slapped her gently.

"No ... Not like that ... Hard ... slap me hard," she ordered impatiently.

Trevor slapped her face a couple of times, but though it stoked her, he felt uncomfortable. He turned his attention back to her breasts, slapping them alternately, whipping his fingers across her nipples.

Rechelle writhed with excitement, and bucked her hips. "Now slap my ass." She turned over and presented her buttocks.

Trevor thrust into her and began to spank each buttock alternately.

"Harder ... harder," she urged again.

He spanked harder, and she grunted contentedly into the pillow, until she reached back and grabbed his hands and pulled them forward. She placed his hands on her breasts then squeezed them into claws.

"Squeeze hard," she ordered.

He squeezed.

"Harder ... harder."

He squeezed until the muscles on his forearms bulged and his veins stood proud.

"Pull hard ... Pull hard ...Fuck me hard."

Trevor squeezed and pulled, jerking her breasts back towards him at each thrust. As the pace increased, Rechelle let out cries, which started small, but increased with successive thrusts. When Trevor could thrust no faster, she contracted violently, let out a cry in Tagalog, and collapsed. He released her breasts and knelt up, withdrawing his un-discharged weapon. Rechelle's skin was wet, and he dripped over her for a few seconds while she panted into the pillow. He rolled over beside her and waited. Eventually she unfolded, and crept across to put her arms around his neck, and rest her head against his chest.

"Trevor, you do not need to be gentle with me. You can slap me, you can pull my hair. Throw me around. Anything you like."

Trevor wondered whether he did like.

When they stood to shower, Trevor stopped her and pivoted her round. His penis jumped. Her body had acquired an exciting but frightening beauty. Her buttocks were bright red, but his hand prints glowed clearly through. Her breasts, already swollen by its binding, and discoloured, were bruised around the nipples. The grip marks of his fingers showed, and there were bite marks where his nails had dug in.

Trevor felt an overwhelming desire to ejaculate.

He tossed Rechelle onto the bed, grabbed her by the ankle, jerked her towards him, bent her back and thrust into her ass. He gripped her clitoris and pinched, pulled and shook it as he hammered into her. Rechelle grabbed his hand and tried to pull it away, but Trevor was excited beyond the point of no return, determined to continue to his climax. As he ejaculated, Rechelle called out again it Tagalog.

As his need abated, he turned, and fell exhausted, backwards onto the bed, his mind clouding with concern over his loss of control and inconsideration. Rechelle rolled on top of him, and began to plant butterfly kisses onto his chest.

"If you like me, I am available," she murmured.

"What is that you shout," he asked.

"It is a thank-you to God."

Over the next few days, Trevor was flattered by her affection, but resisted the temptation to, again, fully satisfy her desires. He twisted her arms, and tied her in stress positions when he fucked her, but his psychological disposition for rough sex did not mirror hers. On the contrary, his behaviour had scared him, and as his feelings for her became more tender, his sexual impulse was excited by treating her tenderly.

Rechelle was confused, and eventually she challenged him. "Trevor, sometimes you rape like before. I know you enjoy it. I enjoy it also."

"You have a lovely body. I don't like to mark your body."

"That do not matter. You like to look at my marks before. You like to rape me then. Trevooor ... you rape me tonight ... pleeease."

Trevor sought a way out. "I can't before Saturday. I want to take you to Thi-Hi, to introduce you to my friends."

"So? What that matter?"

"Well, you'll be naked, almost. I don't want you marked."

He explained the protocol, and for a few more days Trevor was freed from her pleas. He quickly alerted his clique to his intention, and when he arrived at Thi-Hi that Saturday, Donald, Grant and Alma, Wayne and Kim, were already there. Alma looked about to burst, but she was till able to facilitate Rechelle, who was greeted with applause and wolf-whistles when she appeared. At Trevor's request, she had bound her breasts, and this novelty appealed to the crowd.

The bruising around her nipples had faded to shadows, but the marks of his fingernails were still clearly visible. Alma walked Rechelle back to sit with Trevor, and rested while he arranged a round of drinks for the patrons and girls.

A regular entered with his girl, and greeted Trevor. "Hiiii Trevor, nice to see you back." He shook Trevor's hand, and turned to Rechelle. "So this is your new girl. Where do you find these fucking beauties. The tits are a nice touch. I paid 3000 pesos. Now I feel I've been conned."

His girl was obviously a 'model'. She was immaculately coiffed and made up, and wore elegant, expensive clothes, but hung sullenly from his arm.

"Al, if you feel hard done by, I'd gladly swap. She does look like she could do with cheering up, but your girls always do." The model glared.

Al glanced at her scowling face. "Krysel is a miserable cunt, but she cheers up once I've got my cock up her arse."

The couple found a seat.

Shortly, Alma felt up to a stroll around the bar, and set off with Rechelle to introduce her to the customers. Trevor fell into conversation with his friends. He became aware of someone approach from behind. He felt a burning on his right hip, his mind was slow to comprehend that the skin of his right hip was gripped in a painful pinch.

Annoyed, the words, "Leave that for the bedroom will you Rechelle," poised on his lips, ready for launch. But, as he turned, it was the model who swept past, and stomped towards the CR. Trevor smiled.

Al had been watching Krysel, and saw what had happened. He came over. "Did she fucking pinch you," he asked.

"I'm sorry if I offended her. I was only joking," said Trevor.

"She's a mean and moody little bitch. I'll fuck her all ways up tonight, make sure I get 3000p worth, then toss her back tomorrow."

"Where'd you find her?"

"In Doll House. She looked so fucking cute in the line-up. Couldn't tell she was a bitch."

Al waited with Trevor for Krysel to return, then grabbed her by the arm and gritted his teeth. "He was only having a joke you little cunt. I'll fuck the meanness out of you tonight." He marched her away.

"Al's a bit of a cunt himself," said Donald, he treats his girls like ass-wipes.

"I know just the girl for him," said Trevor.

Before the afternoon broke up, Wayne reminded him of the arrangement for Sunday night. "I've booked two rooms in Tropicana. Wrap up your bar-hop about ten. When you're in your room and I'm in mine, we'll swap. I shan't tell Kim, it'll be a surprise."

"I shan't tell Rechelle either," said Trevor.

When they returned to the hotel, Rechelle immediately put pressure on Trevor.

She threw her arms around him and climbed on him, biting his ear and whispering, "Rape me ... rape me ... rape me."

He prevaricated.

Rechelle became less playful. She got naked and became more insistent. The more reticent he became, the more she pressed. She tried to pull off his T-shirt. He pushed her away. She started to pull at his trousers. He pushed. She resisted. They tussled. He snapped. He drew back his arm and clouted her on the side of the head. She fell back on the floor. For a second she stared up at him, as he froze and stared back. Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned over and buried her face in her arms, sobbing.

"Whyy yoou hiit mee. Doon you liike mee noomooore?"

Trevor did not know what to do. He sat on the end of the bed, feeling ashamed, but could not think of appropriate words.

The sobs became more hysterical. "Doon yoou waan mee noomooore."

Trevor sat silent.

Again the sobs paused. "Doon yoou waan mee noomooore."

No reply came. Trevor wanted to say. "No, I don't want you anymore," but lacked the courage.

The sobs continued for a minute, then abruptly stopped. Rechelle got up. Her eyes were swollen and she looked at him miserably.

"OK. I pack my clothes."

Words of desperation came. "I'm really sorry. I'm sorry I hit you. I'm ashamed of myself."

"No problem. I am just a bar-fine."

"Look, perhaps it's for the best. I'm a vanilla guy. Too vanilla for you. That's why we're fighting. I can't do it the way you like it. You'll find guys who do."

"Not nice guys. They're never nice guys."

"There will be one day," said Trevor lamely.

He tucked 10,000p in her hand before she left.

"Thank you," she muttered, head bowed, and exited.

Relieved, Trevor lay back on the bed and sucked in a deep breath. He felt guilty about Rechelle, but decided, in future, to kick the girl out before things went so far. He would start tomorrow with a fresh sheet, and a fresh opportunity.