Kimiko Larsen

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Short sketch of American with a Japanese wife.
770 words
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"So good... So good..." she ejaculated in English and Japanese.

I continued to punch my cock deep into her, and deep again. She shoved back against me. She felt like a glove, hot and encompassing. "You know what I'm going to do to you?"

"Yes! Do it."

Her raven hair rushed backward and forward. Her ear was on the bed. Eyes, pinched and oriental, tightly shut. That beautiful mouth gaped, gasping, like her pussy lips as I pulled all the way out.

"Don't stop - oh!"

I picked her up and started taking wet, sharp mouthfuls of her clitoris and vulva. Her hard little pubic bone stood out, grating my chin.

She apparently didn't know what to do. She was inverted, on her shoulder and head. She grasped my cock, wet and slippery with her lubrication, and started struggling to do something. Her butt kicked up; I had to tip my head back to get up to her maidenhead. I stuck my tongue in her pussy, circled inside the opening. What was she doing? I dug her lips apart, down toward her belly, swirled my tongue around her engorged clitoris, and bit it with the tips of my front teeth -- just a little pressure. She made a sound like a scream stifled in her throat, pausing a second. Another buck of her hips, and her hot mouth entrapped the head of my penis.

So that was her plan! Not to leave me out in the cold. But no, she felt too good on me, sucking at the end of my dick -- this unusual speck of wet warmth, her hair tickling at my crotch.

I dropped her hips, and followed them as they went crashing down onto the bed. There, I attacked her pussy once more, frenching and sucking.

Soon I spun around and received the greeting of her flushed, sweaty face. I pushed my fingers into her hair (which served to pull away what had stuck to her face) and made love to her other lips -- every bit as aroused as the last pair and twice as willing. She wiggled her hips under me, and I responded by mounting her again.

I felt for the opening. My head scratched across the wet, slicked hair and into her jade pussy. She was a furnace, tensing at my reentry, and holding her breath.

"Hai!" she cried out.

I put my thumbs to her nipples, squeezed her chest and its small, plump breasts. She was breathing raspily now. My body thrust again and again, no chance of delay. I wanted her to come as I fucked her, make a little pinch around my dick... I couldn't hold it much longer, but as I started losing it, thrusting harder and harder at the roof of her vagina, I felt her whole body clench up and curl against me. Everything tightened. Her rhythm hung, stopped.

And then she started breathing again. A partial strangled sound butted out, trailing into a small moan.

Meanwhile, I grabbed her waist, her butt, and thrust twice more, very hard. Her hands still clung and her legs tensed, but the rest of her had gone yielding and strangely soft. I came into her -- I don't remember much about how, just that there was a lot, and I could see her face with my eyes closed.

She later told me that feeling me come had been almost unreal, as if she'd dreamed it in that soft warm place where the world had to be good, and everything felt delightful. I'd been tilting her hips upwards into mine. Naturally I was giving her my seed. That feeling? All of it spilling over her cervix. How nice it felt. Everything was perfect in there, her light place.

I just knew, sometime after, that I was gripping her head, breathing heavily beside her ear, she next to mine. She held me.

"That was so good," she said. "Do you think it went in?"

"I wanted to give you a baby," I said.

"Oh, I hope you did." She hugged me.

My idea of things: You meet the right girl. Settle together. Family. Look out for each other, smile, and you'll basically do fine -- a sort of embarrassingly cobbled-together Cat Stevens philosophy, that I'd imbibed from my parents.

Her descriptions of her world: Get married late. Career. Avoid kids. Money for sex means it's not an affair. Work. RUN!

She'd entered my life, taken my name, given up her country... all so easily. On that rare night, I remember wondering if it was the dream she really desired from me.

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