Handyman

My wife had a roommate in college with who she had remained close to over the years. She was Chinese, born in Taiwan. As luck would have it, after our various respective relocations, we found ourselves living in the same town as she and her husband, giving me the opportunity to finally meet her. My wife had always described her as cute and charming, pursued by all the guys at college. But I was not prepared. She was a knockout. Dark skin, evidence of her south Asian ancestry. Long black hair, small features, innocent looks, all that is perfection in an Asian woman. And she was a tiny thing; couldn't have weighed more than 85 lbs. I've always found small women sexy; and compared to my six foot, two inch frame, most women are. But still, for me: the smaller, the better! Although I have had more than a few sexual fantasies about her, I never expected anything to come of them. We all became close friends, sharing dinners together. Her husband, also Chinese, was never very handy around the house. I am, so I often do odd jobs for them. He likes to golf, which I don't, and will often be away for a good part of the day on summer weekends.

One Saturday, while he was out chasing balls, she wanted me to fix some plumbing or electrical problem. I really don't remember what it was, but it was a simple, quick fix. Afterward we had a nice talk over tea. It was some special Chinese tea that she said her mother had sent to her from Taiwan, and it was full of alluring spices and musky aromas. Our conversation took an, uh, intimate path. She said she'd often heard that American men were better endowed than their Asian counterparts, but all she knew was her husband and pictures she'd seen of other Asian men. She asked if it was really true. I acknowledged that I had also heard of this, but had never given it much thought. I said that I thought I was probably average for an American. She is so innocent, fun to tease, and was already blushing; and I guess I was in a crazy mood because I asked her if she'd like to see mine, fully expecting her to bashfully decline. She must have been in a crazy mood too, because she said yes, but she wanted to move somewhere more private than at the kitchen table. (Was there something in that tea?)

She led me up to the bedroom, where she sat on the foot of the bed and directed me to a spot on the floor in front of her. After a moment's hesitation, I unfastened my belt and shorts and let them drop to the floor. I stopped to look at her, I guess to see if she'd changed her mind, but she just nodded to indicate that I should continue. I had to bend down to push my briefs all the way down to my ankles, and when I stood up and looked again, her eyes were big and her mouth partly open. She said she expected it to be long, but so thick and hairy had never occurred to her. I stepped forward, out of my pants and closer to her, with my dick hanging right in front of her face. She reached out for it and stopped about half way, looking up at me for approval. But before I could give any, she was cradling it lovingly in her hands. She held it like one would cup their hands to take a drink of water. And her hands were so small that they were not even as long as my dick. She commented how solid and heavy it felt. (Just what was in that tea?)

I was now becoming aroused. My dick looked simply massive lying there in her tiny hands. It was only semi-erect at this point, but growing quickly. As it got increased in size, she had to change the way she held it, now with one hand above the other, as if she were examining a bottle of vintage wine. She asked how much bigger it could get as she wrapped her delicate fingers around it and began gentle squeezes, alternating her left and right hands. As it reached its full thickness, she could no longer touch her thumb to her fingers around the shaft.

Now hard enough to stand out on its own, she grazed her fingers gently along its length, just barely making contact, exploring its every nook and cranny, every bulging vein, giving special attention to the more sensitive underside, to that spot just below the head. Again commenting on its size and shape, she slowly tightened her grip and was soon making long, slow strokes. On account of her small hands, both of them together couldn't completely cover its length, leaving a good amount for stroking. I was in heaven. What a turn on it was to have a huge dick being worshiped by this tiny, innocent, sweet angel. She continued to masturbate me, gradually picking up the pace. I soon felt a climax coming and warned her of it. She said she knew, that she sensed it, and stopped just before I went over the edge. My legs were a little weak from this, so she motioned for me to sit on the edge of the bed, while she stood up and began removing her clothes.

Her skin was bronze, not just where the sun touched it, but everywhere. Although she was so small, her body was perfectly -- womanly -- proportioned. She was very thin, but not at all bony. Her little butt was firm and high. Standing with her knees close together, there was a little dagger of daylight showing between her legs just below her pubic hair. Her waist became very narrow above her hips, then her torso widened slightly up to her arms. Her breasts, while small, were perfectly matched to the rest of her body. She had large, plump, cinnamon colored areolas, puffy little pitcher's mounds for a pair of pert, dark nipples. Now completely naked, she asked me if I liked what I saw, but I couldn't get a word out; we guys are not very cool in the presence of such sublime beauty.

She stepped forward so that she was standing between my legs. As she pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside, I moved my hands from my knees to her thighs. Her skin was so amazingly soft that I half sighed, half gasped. I slid my hands around behind her and, cupping her little butt in my palms, pulled her a little closer. With her nipples now inches from my face, I slid my hands upward. Her waist was so small that I could nearly touch my thumbs and fingers together while encircling it. I leaned forward to nuzzle my nose and mouth between her breasts. Pressing them against each side of my face, I inhaled deeply, the smell reminiscent of the tea we had just been enjoying in the kitchen. I tenderly kissed the inside of each breast while gently massaging her nipples and she purred like a kitten.

Suddenly she pushed back, saying that the reason we were here was my dick (she was not as innocent as I thought). She indicated that I should move up further on the bed. As I slid up to where I could rest my head on the pillows, she followed, crawling up beside me. Once I was comfortable, she started masturbating me again. She would vary her technique, from fingers just barely glancing slowly along its length to rapid two-handed pumping with a firm grip. I couldn't get over how incredibly large my dick looked as she worked it with her tiny hands. Now and then she would coat both hands with my pre-cum juices, and, with a tight grip, slide her hands from the head to the base with what felt just like vaginal penetration. Several times, I approached orgasm, and she knew exactly when to stop. Her fingers would dance and play over the length of my shaft, teasing my orgasm, holding me right at the edge, so close I could almost taste the other side. Finally, she'd let me catch my breath, before beginning anew.

After a while, she moved up to lie on top of me. She was light as a feather and was so short that she could rest her head on my chest while squeezing my dick between her soft thighs. Her waist was so slim that I could interlock my fingers on the small of her back without lifting my elbows from the bed. I explored upward over her back and shoulders and run my hands through the silkiness of her long black hair. It was so soft and straight that I could comb my fingers through it, lift up, and it would ever so slowly flow out between my fingers as if it were cool spring water. I slid my hands downward, tracing my hands up over the soft contour of her butt to find my dick protruding from between her legs. The insides of her thighs were wet and slippery, whether from her or me, I didn't know. So I began making little thrusting motions, as if fucking her legs.

Then she rolled over onto her back and I moved down between her legs as she parted them. She was already soaking wet, so I went straight to work on her little pussy. A long slow lick from her vagina upward found her clitoris rising up to meet me. So I licked it from below, then from right to left, and then from left to right. Her breath was erratic as grabbed my hair in her tiny fists. Finally, as her back arched up off the bed, I sucked her little clit into my mouth and, moving my jaw from side to side, rubbed its shaft between my lips. She squealed and squirmed underneath me, squeezing my head between her thighs. Gradually her breathing changed from quick gasps to long, deep breaths as I finally released my grip on her clit. I crawled up beside her to hold her close as she slowly came back down to earth.

Suddenly she said that she'd decided she wanted to feel my dick as a woman should, inside of her. She was in charge and I knew my duty. So I positioned myself between her legs. I rubbed the head of my dick on her vaginal lips to spread her lubricant on me, which started her moaning and writhing. But on trying to enter her, she was too small and tight. I couldn't get the right thrust with nothing to push against. Fortunately, the bed was very low to the floor, so that by kneeling on the floor, my dick was the perfect height. As I pulled her toward me, she instinctively placed her tiny feet on my shoulders. Grasping her by the waist, I more pulled her onto my dick rather than pushing my dick into her.

As I started to go in, she bit her lower lip from the pain of being stretched so far. I stopped to rub the head of my dick on her labia again, to further stimulate her and to obtain a little more of her lubricant. Then I tried again; she was so tight but I managed to push in about half an inch at a time, then back out and go in again. By the time I'd worked up to about half way in, she had grabbed hand's full of the bed sheets and was letting out little cries. Thinking I was hurting her, I asked if I should stop. But no, she said she was on the verge of coming. She was about to come, and I was only just penetrating her!

She was so tight that I knew I would come myself if I weren't careful. She begged me to continue, so I pushed in all the way, burying my shaft up to the hilt. And she did start coming -- I could feel the throbbing contractions of her vagina around my dick. I began long, slow strokes, often pausing to avoid my own orgasm. The slightest movement was pure ecstasy. Just as I was thinking about finally allowing myself to climax, she said she wanted to try it like American women do: on top. As I pulled out, her tight pussy was so tight that it sort of snapped closed, popping my dick up in the air a bit.

I crawled back onto the bed stacking the pillows up so I could see everything and lay down on my back. She climbed up to where she was sitting on my thighs, straddling them, facing me. My dick was standing at attention in front of her, reaching up her torso well past her naval. But when she raised up onto her knees to mount me, it was clear that her short stature would not allow her to get high enough to clear the top of my dick. Instinctively, I reached down with my hands and, once more cupping her little buttocks in my palms, I was able to lift her high enough. I'm not a particularly strong man; I was only able to do this thanks to her tiny size. She reached down to align my dick and I lowered her down on it. Entry was easier this time as she was pretty loosened up now, but she was still pleasingly tight. She slid all the way down and told me we'd just bottomed out, that I'd hit the end of her tunnel, that she was completely and perfectly filled up.

She started moving up and down; I didn't need to lift her now, as we didn't want my dick to come clear out of her. She was crying like before, that she was coming whenever she moved. I was near coming myself when she stopped. She remained completely motionless while my impending orgasm subsided so she could start in again. I can't remember how many times she did this. How did she always know just when to stop? How could she be so in control in the midst of her own seemingly ongoing orgasm? Each time she stopped, all she did was smile with an all-knowing look in her eye until it was safe to continue.

We all know how a series of these near-orgasms can really pay off in the end. She made up her mind, without telling me, when my time had come. On one of my approaches, she kept going. Maybe I was so intensely focused that time appeared to slow down, but the first phase of my orgasm seemed to last an incredible amount of time. I couldn't breathe. Every muscle in my body was hard as a rock. I had the feeling that my whole life had led up to this one moment. Everything else faded away, and she and I were all that there was to the universe.

Then I could feel the second phase, the ejaculation, rising up from below. In this slow motion event, I could actually feel it traveling up the length of my dick. When it reached the end and exploded inside of her, she was so full of me that it squirted back out along the sides of my dick and onto my balls. I gasped of air just as the second one boiled up from below and coursed through my dick just like the one before it. Again, no room in her pussy, it sprayed back out. She said she could feel each surge of my dick, each gush of semen hitting the back of her vagina. Furthermore, she was timing her downward thrusts with each ejaculation. She was amazing, to be so sensitive to the progression of my orgasm and to use that awareness to so skillfully enhance it. Again and again, I shot load after load, for what seemed an eternity.

Finally they began to lessen in intensity, but they still kept coming. As they were fading away, she leaned forward to lay down on top of me once more. She tried to kiss me, but she couldn't reach my lips without my still pulsing dick slipping out of her, so she settled for nuzzling in the hairs on my chest. Exhausted, we both fell asleep in that position, my dick still inside her, still hard.

We awoke to the sound of the garage door opening below us as her husband returned from golfing. Quickly getting dressed and gathering the sheets to throw in the washing machine we met him coming in from the garage. She explained that there was a problem with the plumbing, that something need to be opened up a bit wider, and that my service was exceptional.

Later, my wife came over for dinner and we broiled some salmon on the grill. Over dinner, my wife's roommate and I exchanged knowing glances and chased each other's feet under the table. I wondered where today's events would be leading. But also wondered about my wife. I adore my wife and I don't want to screw things up. But, well, once in a while I just like something exotic. Like a sports car. I don't think I would own one, but, damn, they're fun to drive.

Then I got all my answers. We guys had been outside, and I came back in for a couple more beers. The women were talking in the kitchen, not knowing I was coming, and I overheard my new lover say in a hushed but exaggerated voice, "huge", and they both giggled. I stopped in my tracks and kept listening. She said that she thought she'd be needing to borrow the handyman and his big tool again sometime, and my wife said, "That's what good friends are for."