East Meets West

This story is bit different from the others, with less raceplay involved and more emphasis on romance (though still with strong dominant/submissive themes). Credit goes primarily to my co-writer for whom I edit, but who wishes to remain anonymous. All characters depicted are over the age of 18.

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We're riding together along a dusty trail, just the two of us atop my trusty horse. I'm feeling the warmth of her body on mine, her back against my chest as I pull her tight against me, hearing her purr contentedly with my hands moving around her bare stomach. Her skin is warm and smooth under my fingertips, her stomach flat and hard. She feels my fingers moving down her body and she moans softly, the hard leather of the saddle rubbing rough against her bare pussy lips, rubbing her clit as the horse moves under her. The sun beats down on us and she feels my hands pull back on the reins gently to slow the beast and, from experience, she knows what's coming. She slides to the side and drops easily from the saddle, but her legs buckle as she hit the warm sand. Her knees are sore and her entire body aches from the long day in the saddle, and between her legs is even sorer from the time we've spent out of the saddle. But she knows what's going to happen. She knows I don't care how sore she is. It's been about three hours, right on schedule.

She finds a relatively comfortable spot in the sand but her knees are already burning. She gets on her hands and knees anyway, her tiny ass pointing up at me, her destroyed qipao gone from her small breasts down, and as she bends over, her straw hat slipping off her head and falling gently onto the hot sand. What's left of it slides up her body and up around her neck. She looks downright ridiculous like that, with her cunt open and spread for me, her body naked under the hot sun. She hears the jingle of the spurs on my boots and the unzipping of my trousers as I approach, her long black hair covering her face as she lowers her head. Tears form in her eyes as she feels my thick cock push up hard past her pussy lips into that tight yellow cunt, spearing her from behind, her body lurching forward.

She feels the leather of my chaps pressing hard against her ass, the rough denim of my trousers open just enough at the fly, chafing her bottom as I pound her. She smells the sweat and dirt and the sun on my body. She smells my horse and he smells her back, neighing loudly behind her somewhere, smelling her dripping pussy as I slam into her again and again, rocking her forward into the sand, pushing her head down into the hot earth, sweat dripping off my chin down onto her naked back, and then she feels me thrust even harder, once, jamming my cock up into her tiny little oriental body. She feels me empty inside of her once again, pumping fast and hard, my thick white cock spurting deep into her womb. Then I'm gone, a loud squelch as my cock vacates her dripping cunt, leaving her dripping cum into the sand, panting and gasping. She realizes I've dropped my hat onto her ass and she hears me laughing, already back up in the saddle, and so she slowly, gingerly, lifts herself up out of the sand and straightens what's left of her dress. She climbs back up in front of me, cringing in pain as her raw cunt presses against the hot leather of the saddle. She looks up at the sun, trying to gauge how long she has until she's back in the sand with my sweaty dick crammed in her pussy. She feels my lips on her neck and she smiles, pressing her tiny body back against mine as we set off again, my arm wrapped tight around her slim bare waist, smiling, enjoying the feeling of the horse beneath us, the sun warm on her skin...

Things between us weren't always so cozy. It all started one hot afternoon. I rode into a small town that day, tired and sore from the saddle like so many other days, two weeks of beard on my face, dry and dusty and smelling like horse and trail. I needed a woman, a drink, a bath and a bed... and not necessarily in that order. I tied up my horse outside the bathhouse and stepped inside, pushing my hat back off my head, letting it fall on its lanyard behind my back. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim interior, but when they did, it looked exactly like every other chink bathhouse out here.

I hollered for the owner, and this old yellow crone toddled out, bowing and scraping and gesturing to me, babbling in that nonsense they all speak. She led me to the baths, which were not being used by anyone else, and gestured for me to get into the one that was full of steaming water. I yelled at the woman to leave so that I could undress, and eventually she seemed to get the message, but then before I could even get my hat off, this other chink bitch poked her head in and walked right over to me. "Ah shit," I remember thinking. At least this one was younger though, a slim but curvy thing, kinda pretty I guess, in the way they have, looking like young women with firm little rumps and perky little teats. She was wearing this silky looking dress thing, very clingy and tight, with flowers all over it, a high collar and basically no sleeves. Anyway, next thing I knew she was reaching up and started unbuttoning my shirt. I pushed her hands away and said I'd do it myself, but she didn't seem to get the message and kept unbuttoning it until it was open down to my waist, and then she pulled it out of my pants and slipped it off my shoulders. The whole time I felt her bare arms brushing against my body, and like I said, I needed a woman and a bath, and the order didn't matter. I figured this yellow filly for a whore and laughed a little inside. Boy would she be cross when she found out I was damn near broke. Anyway, as she got closer to me, I could smell the soap in her black hair, feeling the warmth of her light brown skin on mine. That tight body beneath that smooth, silky material pressed against me, and my body responded. Two weeks on the trail with only a horse for company will do that to a man.

I felt my body responding to hers, the way any man's body would respond to a young, fertile woman, especially one as nubile and comely as this one. I felt a buzzing in my head, like the blood was rushing through my body. I felt my knees weaken as her tiny hands moved over my stomach, down to my belt and my trousers, filthy and smelling like dust and horse and blood and campfires. The girl on the other hand smelled so good and clean, so soft next to my rough skin and my unshaven face, her face pure and clean and unblemished, her eyes dark and bright. Before I could restrain myself, my hands were on her sides, feeling how slim she was but also round in all the right places, and in a flash my lips were on hers, feeling them spread for me, my tongue finding hers. I couldn't care anymore and I couldn't stop. It was her own damn fault for touching me that way and for dressing like she did.

I might've started out wanting a hot bath in peace but now my hands were all over her body, pulling it against mine, feeling her squirm and thrash, so hot and feisty. Still, it took no effort to force her face to mine, to kiss her and to grab her long black smooth hair and pull her head back until she couldn't move, kissing those sweet lips, my beard scraping against her tanned chinadoll face. She kissed me back, and I felt my knees buckle, my head spinning, lost in lust for this oriental flower. It was only out of the corner of my eye, with my last ounce of sense, that I felt her hand move from the small of my back where it had rested so delicately, gone for a moment, and something buried deep within me screamed silently, blowing past the lust clouding my thoughts and shouting "Danger!" I opened my eyes just in time to see her slim arm sweeping down towards my neck, a small stiletto in her fingers driving towards my jugular, and my arm came up just in time, blocking the blow and taking a nick along my forearm.

Her other hand suddenly started slapping at me and I let it, ignoring the light blows across my cheek and chest, concentrating only on blocking the dagger. I finally caught her tiny wrist in my hand and twisted it, hard, feeling her drop the knife as I pushed down. This forced her to fall to her knees in the dirt, her face flushed and her smooth black hair in disarray.

"Johansson sent you, didn't he?" The railroad tycoon had been trying to getting me to sell out to him for a year now. I guess he had moved on to other methods of persuasion. Frankly, I liked the part where he offered to give me cold hard cash a lot better than this. I saw the defeat in the eyes of my would-be killer, those slanty brown doe eyes. She knew that she'd failed, that Johansson didn't deal well with failure. Her life was mine now, she knew it and she knew that I knew it. To send her back to him would most likely be a death sentence for her anyway. I looked down at her, half in pity since she didn't look like a cold killer. I wouldn't have even been surprised if this was her first job, making me wonder what Johansson must've had on her to make her do this... but I quickly wave the thought away. If she was ready to kill, she should've been ready to die. I reached down with one hand and lifted her to her feet, her slim body trembling before me. I reached out with one hand, wrapped my fingers around her soft neck and squeezed, hard, trying not to look into her eyes as I applied pressure, her hands suddenly scrambling for my forearm, clawing at me in panic, her face turning red and her nostrils flaring as she fought for air. As this was happening I was surprised to find that a still had a raging boner as I felt it pressing against my trousers. I realized I still needed a woman, so why waste this one? I slowly relaxed my grip to the sound of her gasping hard as she drew a deep breath, panting raggedly with total relief in her eyes.

The look quickly changed however as I suddenly spun her around and push her hard against the side of the nearby bathtub. It was high and came up just below her waist, and she fell forward with the ends of her hair falling into the warm water, the steam rising off it and flushing her face, making her breath hard as she spread her arms to grip the sides, trying to keep from plunging face first into the warm water. Then she felt me behind her, bare from the waist up. I had the knife she dropped and I used the razor sharp tip to slice cleanly along the back of her silk dress, drawing the blade around underneath quickly but carefully. I've used a knife before. As I drew it up under her tiny breasts and back around, she barely moved or even breathed. She then felt a sudden rush of cool air on her body as the fabric fell away, dropping into the dust and leaving her with barely enough to cover her hard brown nipples. She felt the air on her cunt lips as she bent over, off-balance, and then she felt my big rough hands on her soft smooth hips and she braced herself, knowing what was coming.

And then it happens. She felt a burning pain, a sharp flash in her brain as I pushed myself up into her, the rough filthy fabric of my trousers rubbing harshly against her bottom, abrading her, burning as I began fucking her tight little chink cunt, hard and deep, thrusting my big white dick into her body over and over, her face flushed and red from the steam of the water only inches from her face, her hips in pain from grinding against the wood of the bathtub and her cunt on fire, stretched wide open by my massive white cock. My smell was overpowering, dirty and rough, hard and big. It was everywhere, enveloping her, and then she heard me grunt loudly, pushing hard into her as I came inside her, filling her womb completely with my hot seed. As I stopped thrusting and let out soft groan, she felt a single tear roll down her cheek and plop loudly into the water below her.

I watched her petite frame collapse over the tub, and saw my thick cum dripping slowly between her thighs as her body convulsed. Two weeks is a long time and I was still hard as a tree trunk. Sometimes I surprise myself. Before she could even react, I was back behind her, using my own cum to lubricate my cock and press it back between her legs. She let out a shrill yelp that quickly turned into a moan as she felt me back up inside her, filling that void that I had left just moments before. She was feeling so complete, so full, so utterly right with me buried inside her, know that something had been missing, that she only knew what it was and that it was missing at all when I was deep inside her, and then not. Only when I stopped fucking her did she know that she needed me inside her, that she would only ever feel that same completeness with me riding her.

The thought sent her over the edge, and suddenly she was thrashing beneath me, her bottom bucking back against my hips, her fingers reaching for her nipples and squeezing them beneath what was left of her dress, pinching and twisting as her body exploded, with waves upon waves of pleasure moving through her, forcing her to surrender herself as her cunt spasmed hard again and again on my cock as it was buried deep within her. She twisted her head, trying to look back at me, smelling me, moaning hard as I pushed up into her. I leaned down and kissed her mouth, my bare chest on her naked back as I pushed myself all the way up inside her. My denim-clad hips rubbed roughly against her perfect, tiny bottom, grinding up against her in the dust-covered interior of the bathhouse, the air heavy and hot and still around us. Both of us dripped with sweat as I pulled her to me and held her tight, her body clenching hard against mine. We kissed for the longest time as my member once more pulsed deep inside her cunt, both of us groaning and panting and sweating and trembling, my cock again emptying itself inside of her, the feeling in her body one of total and complete satisfaction for the first time in her life.

I didn't want to let go, the feeling of her naked body pressed against mine was exquisite. We stood there, breathing, for what seems like hours, my cock gradually softening inside her warm wet cunt, feeling her trembling against me, our sweat intermingling and our naked skin slick against one another in the hot air. Finally, as my legs started feeling as though they were about to give way, I slowly let her slip to the ground, spent and exhausted.

I left her there for a moment, watching her lie naked on her stomach with her meager breasts peeking lewdly out from underneath the pathetic remnants of her gown. It was a reminder of what she tried to do to me, as well as a mark of my ownership and her servility.

After I recovered, I went to fetch my horse, carrying the unconscious young woman out of the bathhouse in my arms. I placed her in the saddle, tied her down so she wouldn't fall, and then climbed up behind her, my shirt unbuttoned. The bathhouse owner ran out after us, shrieking nonsensically. I pause only long enough to grab that silly straw hat from her head and place it on the girl's, shielding her delicate face from the harsh sun but leaving the rest of her body exposed for the time being. Then I turned my horse and slowly moved out of the dusty town, the hot desert sand ahead of us...