Sophia's World Pt. 10

Finally, lunch hour ticked round. For Sophia, that meant the chance to pick up her dress, which she had had brought up slightly. For Peter, it meant turning down multiple invitations to go to the pub with his workmates, being pilloried by these same people for letting himself come under the thumb of his wife and, finally, slipping downstairs for a salad and a mineral water. He was as close as he would ever come to turning into an athlete in training for a big event - which in a sense he was. After finishing his light lunch, he walked around the City a bit before returning to the office, washing himself in the men's room, brushing his teeth, applying anti-perspirant / deodorant, putting on a clean shirt and retying his tie. He had thought about dispensing with this accessory altogether, but he had visions of Kaori untying it for him as you always saw women do for their men in steamy films.

It was five past three when he knocked on Kaori's door. Hardly, 'fashionably late', but then he wanted to make the most of the limited time available. The door opened after a few seconds. The vision that faced him was too much to take in at one glance. First, the hair. Kaori had it tied up in a bun with two S-shaped tresses framing her beautiful oval face. Next, the dress. Kaori was wearing a kimono-style robe in a traditional floral print but in a by no means traditional length. The base colour was black, while the collar and the cuffs were cream. So was the broad obi, which was tied at the back in an oversized bowknot, whose colours matched the robe, right down to the trim. Gold metallic leather sandals with a strappy, gladiator-inspired silhouette completed the mouth-watering ensemble.

Peter stood in the doorway for a moment just taking in the view. Once he had recovered his equilibrium, he walked into the room, allowing Kaori to close the door behind him. If the room had a view over the city, he was oblivious to it. The only sight that he was capable of taking in was that of this woman before him. She came up to him and they kissed, Kaori standing on tip toes, Peter bending a little to accommodate her. He had his arms around her tiny waist, while her hands were cradling his neck, her nails occasionally teasing his skin. Her mouth tasted of cherries and cream. They kissed for what seemed like hours, in a leisurely manner, Kaori becoming more bold with the passage of time, licking his tongue and somehow managing to take the whole of his mouth into her own.

Peter's penis was screaming for release from its prison, but he understood that he must wait. Instead, he moved his hands down from her waist to her firm and shapely buttocks, causing the faintest of gasps to escape her lips. The fabric hardly covered her ass. It would have been the simplest thing to glide down and feel her naked skin in his hands but again Peter reined himself in and thought of the big picture: mutual gratification, mutual pleasure, mutual satisfaction, and, hopefully, mutual and simultaneous release.

Realising he still had his shoes on, Peter kicked them off. Even this simple action gave him a thrill, so wound up he was, as it prefigured the disrobing that was sure to follow. Over Kaori's shoulder he could see the bed behind her. The cover had been taken back and neatly folded at the foot of the bed, with the duvet turned back at one corner in readiness for their coupling. It was only then that Peter noticed how cool it was in the room. Maybe it was one of those thermostats that it was impossible to change, or maybe Kaori wanted the cool air to set her extremities on edge. A vision of her nipples - distended and aching for attention - flooded through Peter's mind, as his cock strained even harder against his suit trousers, now more desperate than ever to be emancipated and put to use.

Releasing Peter's lips, Kaori helped him out of his jacket and let it drop to the rug that covered the polished wood floor. Her ringless fingers went to his tie, overstepping the mark briefly and sending butterflies tumbling in his stomach, as she made contact with his throat. Perhaps she would use his neckwear to tie him up, Peter thought, his mind racing with a hundred possibilities. Once the tie was off, Kaori picked the jacket off the floor and hung it next to her dresses in the open cupboard area. The tie she placed on the bedside table. Perhaps it did have a further role to play in the exotic tableau that the Japanese woman was creating.

She next undid his cufflinks, before getting to work on his buttons, working her way easily down his chest and stomach, teasing him with light touches of her beautifully manicured nails, painted in red - a colour that spelt danger to Peter's blood pressure, which was already through the roof. When she came to the barrier created by his trousers, rather than pulling the shirt from its moorings, she moved lower and undid his belt, causing a deep sigh to be released from the depths of Peter's throat. Slowly unzipping him, her fingers came within millimetres of his angry manhood. The shirt now covering his bulge, she unfastened the last three buttons and, removing his shirt, went across the room to hang it next to his jacket.

Returning without haste, she pulled the trousers down, allowing Peter to step out of them before folding them and placing them on the hanger that already housed his jacket. She stood a yard from Peter and took in his body, dominated by the animal that was incarcerated unhappily in his dark blue briefs. Aching with desire, Peter was overwhelmed by the urge to untie Kaori's ornamental belt and unveil the fruits that lay behind it. Holding himself in check by a terrific act of the will, he waited for the woman for whom the word 'sensuous' might have been coined to make her next move. Surely, now she would remove the last obstacle to the instrument that would give her so much pleasure, the instrument which she must have been thinking about for the last three days.

Instead, she led Peter to the bed and motioned for him to sit down facing her. She stood by him - between his legs - and placed his hands on her belt, specifically on the side where the hidden buttons lay. Trembling slightly, his fingers found the buttons and undid them as slowly as he dared, the first surrendering almost immediately, the second proving more resistant, as his hands started to shake as visions of her naked body flooded his being. Finally, it sprang free. The belt fell to the floor, revealing the tiniest thong from which wisps of dark hair had broken free, like tiny aerial roots breathing in life-giving ozone. The folds of her kimono revealed one breast - firm and beautifully proportioned - while the other (more shy, perhaps) remained hidden, the nipple providing it with a knob with which it could keep the thin material in place.

Reaching up, Peter slid the fabric over the impediment and the kimono slid silently to the floor. Kaori sat on the bed next to Peter and, untying the gold straps round her ankles, stepped out of her sandals. She then turned her full attention to Peter's penis, which filled his briefs to bursting. She ran her fingernails along its outline, from base to tip, drawing gasps from its proud owner. She was fascinated by a damp area of cotton, which was getting larger before her eyes. She touched it and, bringing her finger to her mouth, savoured its umami essence. She liked the taste and made a note to herself to drink a deeper draught later. Maybe not so very much later.

First, she wanted to see how well nature had endowed this Englishman. She took hold of his briefs by the waistband and began to ease them off his body, Peter assisting her by raising himself a little off the bed. She found that the only way to get the pants off was by using one hand to hold the penis down, so that it wouldn't snag in the elastic. When she did this, Peter cried out and had to maintain his discipline when all he wanted to do was get her on the bed, spread her legs and fuck her senseless. To his credit, he waited until she had removed his pants, at which point he kissed her with passion, moving his hands all over her body - breasts, stomach, legs, ass and finally, through the flimsy and tiny covering, her pussy. Forcing himself to come away from that most precious part, he returned to the breasts - instinctively, greedily, without any method or plan or strategy. He heard her moaning as he gave free rein to his tongue - exultant in its wantonness. Pausing briefly at her navel, his tongue swept down her body until it closed in on her molten centre. He was still some way off when he picked up her scent; no scent you get out of a bottle, this was the unique scent of a woman. Pulling the apology for a covering to one side, he was rewarded by the sight of her labia, dark and plump and fleshy. Still with one hand on the thong, Peter swept his tongue over Kaori's sex, drawing a long moan from the Japanese woman.

Encouraged, he continued to lave her luscious folds, drinking in the juices that were now flowing freely from her core. Kaori continued to vocalise - guttural sounds that could have contained Japanese but most probably were building blocks of the universal language of love. Sensing she was on the verge, he built up his intensity. Suddenly, she started to spasm, calling out in a wild and abandoned way, so contrary to her normal persona. Peter wouldn't let go of her. Still using only his tongue, he drove it inside her as far as it would go, and was rewarded by a torrent of liquid gushing from somewhere deep inside her. He had heard about this phenomenon, but today he was experiencing it for the very first time.

Kaori clung to him like a limpet, stroking his hair and singing his praises in her own language. He rose up and they kissed - deeply and with greater meaning than he could ever remember. It was while they were kissing that Peter became aware of her hand seeking out his penis and stroking it with more than average energy.

'I want to pleasure you as you have pleasured me,' said Kaori simply.

They were the first words that Peter could remember her saying the whole time he had been in her room. He found a spot in the middle of the bed and lay there waiting for her to work her magic. He was not to be disappointed. Taking his shaft in her hand, she dispensed with any guff about it being the biggest she had ever seen, although, ironically, it actually was. She looked at it appraisingly, but wordlessly, evidently believing that her mouth should be reserved for better things. When her tongue slid across his helmet, he had to bite his lip to hold back an expostulation. He had really bought into the whole silent sex thing and didn't want to come across as sophomoric or uncouth. That said, it became progressively harder to refrain from speech entirely as she set out on her circumnavigation of his member. Her technique was difficult to pigeon-hole, but perhaps if I were to say it was like eating an ice cream cone, that would give the general idea. But, naturally enough, there was no slurping and she was a very tidy eater. She didn't miss much either, occasionally going back if she thought she had missed a spot. As she got to the end of his eight-inch column, Peter was praying that she would attend to his balls, which, he felt, would benefit enormously from her tender touch.

His wish was granted, as she switched her position and came at his serum factory from the rear. Peter opened his legs to give her easier access and she crouched between those legs and moved in on her target. Holding his bag with the lightest of touches, she let her tongue pass in what seemed to Peter like slow-motion across his taut skin. The sensation was unbelievable! Still supporting the cum-filled receptacle in her fingers, she gradually increased both the speed and the pressure of her tongue work.

Pleasure gave way to ecstasy, which in turn yielded to agony, as Kaori's tongue worked his pouch and her hand once again found his pulsing erection. Desperate for her to work her magic on his asshole, he shifted his body almost imperceptibly up the bed in the hope that her mouth might come off his ball bag and devote itself to his most sensitive area. Kaori got the message immediately but held off gratifying Peter for the time being. Instead, as a kind of compromise, she tongued his testes until he was close to coming, making him lose almost all control of his own tongue. Oaths combined with imprecations, words of praise with words of vitriol, as he sensed he had journeyed almost as far as he was able. But only almost; he was tantalisingly close to his destination, but he wasn't yet there.

He knew that the Japanese woman now controlled his movements and it was in her gift to let him travel all the way. Granting that permission, with unwonted violence she drove her tongue onto his anus and, using her hands to obtain leverage, propelled it half an inch inside. Half an inch quickly became one inch, as she buried her face in his loins. It was amazing that he held out as long as he did. The orgasm when it came was staggering in its intensity, as his jism flew across his stomach and onto the duvet. Keen to taste him, Kaori wrapped her lips round his flailing penis and drank in what she could. It tasted so good.

Still wound up like a coil in spite of the release, Peter flipped Kaori over and in one easy movement was chowing on her vagina, for all the world like a man who hasn't seen food for a week. She responded in kind, urging him onto greater things, her hands pushing him as deep as he could go into her core. Seeking out her clitoris, he found the tiny bud and began sucking on it with as much gentleness as he could muster. Kaori signalled her assessment of his efforts with ever louder moans, before she ordered him quite peremptorily to lick her to orgasm. Pausing a moment to behold her luscious fruit and to heighten her arousal, he returned to action with a tongue that had no intention of taking any prisoners. All it took was half a dozen lashes before Kaori cried out, code-switching between English and Japanese, as she hurtled over the edge.

Still as tightly wound as ever, Peter gave Kaori no time to recover before driving his full eight inches deep inside her pussy. The Japanese woman made as if to protest, but any complaint was swallowed up in howls of an altogether happier disposition, as she gripped Peter tightly and demanded more from him. Upping his tempo, he pistoned in and out of her box as if there was no tomorrow. In a meteor shower of 'fucks' and 'cunts', he unloaded his semen deep in her bowels. Kaori, her hair matted in perspiration, gratefully received all he had to give her, as she came for the second time in a matter of minutes.

They lay together blissfully on the bed for several minutes without talking, Peter still inside Kaori - his penis making an unhurried departure from her sweet pussy. It was Kaori who broke the silence, thanking Peter for such a wonderful afternoon and hoping he would no be late for his function. Her words and the sentiments they expressed - so other-centred, so delicately expressed - had the effect of weakening Peter's resolve and stiffening his cock. He really didn't want to leave her just yet. He wanted her on top of him. He knew he could satisfy her one more time.

Withdrawing from her, he lay beside her on the bed and they kissed once more. As if she could read his mind, Kaori's hand found Peter's penis, which was swiftly regaining its lost strength.

'One for the road?' she asked.

Without waiting for an answer, she assumed a sixty-nine position and began deep-throating his cock. So enrapt was Peter that he ignored the glorious pussy that was mere inches from his mouth as he focused only on emptying a fresh load into Kaori's mouth. Whether intentionally or not, a light brushing of pubic hair reminded him of his responsibilities, and, contrite, he made up for lost time by mimicking the Japanese woman's actions - driving his tongue with all he force he could muster into her perfumed box, where her juice were now commingled with his own seed. It took neither of them long to bring the other off, Kaori's climax detonating Peter's own explosion.

Understanding what was expected of her, the Oriental siren tended to Peter's now limp phallus with her fingers but received no encouragement. Perhaps he was finally spent, she thought. Few men, though, she knew, could resist her tongue, as she had already demonstrated twice that afternoon.

'I'll give it five minutes,' she decided.

'If he revives, I'll try for a home run,' said the baseball fan to herself.

It took all of that time - perhaps a little more - but presently Peter was ready to be mounted. Sliding down onto his pole, she bent down and offered first one tit and then the other to the Englishman. Greedily and without any pretension to sophistication, he sucked on the nipples, making slurping noises like an adolescent. Feeling his column swelling inside her, Kaori started to move up and down, gasping as she did so, marvelling at the recovery powers of the man. Instinctively, she knew that an oral cue would send him over the edge. Kaori had never made love to a Caucasian man before but she knew what they liked.

'Please do not let me be disappointed before I leave you. Please satisfy me again in a way no Japanese man ever has. Please don't make me sad again.'

The words were having their effect, as Peter began to take over the initiative in the lovemaking from his partner, thrusting deeply and grunting madly.

'Please fuck me with your giant English cock!'

Looking at Kaori looking back at him with an earnest - almost melancholic - look on her face was too much for Peter. In the end, he didn't even need to steel himself for one last effort. He could feel the release on its way some time before it came, which meant he could relax and truly enjoy the moment. There were no cries, no theatricals - just the magical feeling of sharing yourself with someone you cared for.