Special thanks goes to Nercited for her invaluable review and feedback.
I had always found Shirley Tam hot and attractive. While standing at average height at around five foot three inches, she possessed pale porcelain skin, her face featured sharp and alluring cheekbones and large almond-shaped eyes, while her bikini pictures on social media always hinted at an ample bosom and displayed a tight and lithe figure. Above all, she just seemed very feminine with her frequently manicured fingernails, tasteful makeup and tendency to laugh femininely at my bad jokes.
Our paths first crossed at University of Hong Kong, or HKU, as we lived at the same dormitory. Back then, she always seemed to have a guy or two with her, and I was still adjusting to life in Hong Kong. I grew up overseas, so it took me a while to pick up Cantonese – hence, I didn’t have the requisite confidence to take the next step to ask Shirley on a date or really have a meaningful conversation with her. She had previously attended boarding school in the UK (and before that primary school in Hong Kong). For her tertiary education, she decided to come back to Hong Kong (instead of staying in the UK) because she wanted to meet guys in Hong Kong – as she was tired of attending single gender schools all her life. So yeah, a pretty feminine woman.
Then on one Wednesday afternoon at around 5 p.m., and about ten years since we first met at HKU, I was in the Mandarin Oriental cake shop in the Central district of Hong Kong looking to pick up a bunch of pastries and cakes to celebrate a senior associate’s promotion at work. I had brought along a junior to help carry the pastries, and while we were waiting for the Mandarin Oriental staff to prepare the pastries and cakes, I spotted three feminine cuties decked out in similar attire: tight yoga pants, tastefully made-up, dangling earrings and generally looking feminine and hot. “Damn, they’re pretty hot,” I remarked to my junior standing next to me – who nodded in concurrence. “Oh wait, I think I know one of them,” I added after staring at the three girls for a good ten seconds.
“Hey Shirley,” (喂 Shirley,) I called out to the back of Shirley. She turned around as I pulled down my facemask to let her recognize me.
“Oh heyy George,” she replied back to me, “how are you doing?” (點呀你?) We chit-chatted for several minutes. In my mind, my goal was to be introduced to her two friends, as doing anything with Shirley was a bit too close for comfort, given we had too many overlapping friends. Consequently, I introduced Shirley to my trainee, “Hey, by the way, this is Molly, my colleague.” However, Shirley did not reciprocate by introducing me to her two female friends and just continued the conversation. By this time, my pastries had already arrived, and I bid Shirley goodbye. I remarked to my junior, “damnit, what a wasted opportunity,” and generally didn’t think any more of it.
Around four hours later at around 9.30 p.m., Shirley surprisingly slid into my direct message, or DM, via Instagram: “I swear I keep bumping into you and everytime i look so tui [meaning tired and not pretty] and ugly.”
I replied back, “You looked fine to me – I can’t imagine what your normal would look like then haha.” I then tried to add in a layer of normalcy by asking her, “Are you in your second year of work now?”
She typed in response: “Hahahah that’s the answer I’m looking for. I’m so shameless hahaha.” She then answered my question, “No lah, I’m just in my first year.”
At this point, I knew she was interested. After some fluff (i.e. meandering conversation about nothing), I dropped in, “We should get drinks or coffee sometime,” to see how she would react. She responded: “Can ah, let’s do it.”
Her interest level seemed high, so I proposed a time and place for our meet up, “How about tomorrow (a public holiday) at Causeway Bay or Central at noon-ish, or the day after on Friday at Central when we can sneak out from the office?”
To my surprise, she failed to respond until the afternoon of the next day at 1:40 p.m., “Sorwee I missed your message. Let’s meet tomorrow lah.” ‘Hmm, maybe I misjudged her level of interest,’ I thought to myself, ‘or maybe she is just playing coy.‘
After trying unsuccessfully to get her to meet two more times, I was ready to give up. Every time I tried to put in a concrete time and place, she had a convenient excuse not to go. On the positive note, at least she was responsive and seemed keen to keep the conversation going.
On Tuesday afternoon after radio silence for three days, I followed up to see how she was doing. Thankfully, she responded positively and also added, “Yay, I think I can get off early today woohoo.” She then asked me, “How are you doing?”
I responded, “I’m having dinner with a colleague before we both leave the company at the end of month.” I saw her message that she could leave the office at an earlier hour today, and pursued that strand of breadcrumbs, “So are you going home for dinner?”
She messaged back immediately, “Ohh, you’re leaving so soon? At least you can rest for a bit after you leave the company.” She then responded to my question regarding dinner: “I’m thinking about whether I should skip dinner”.
I responded, “Skipping dinner is rough!” I then proceeded to shoot my final shot, “If you want to wait a bit, we can get drinks later.” If she rejected my invitation to meet for the third consecutive time, I would have moved on to the next girl.
She challenged the validity of my drinks invitation. “Aren’t you having dinner right now?” Then she seemed to acquiesce with a qualification, “Drinks should be good, but it can’t be too late because I have a spinning class tomorrow morning.”
While Shirley and I exchanged the above IG direct messages on a Tuesday evening, I was having dinner at a vegan restaurant with a long-time colleague. The long-time colleague had decided to emigrate to, and accepted a new job in, the United States, due to political uncertainty and the perceived deterioration of democracy and freedom in Hong Kong. “I just can’t see myself staying in Hong Kong for the long term,” my long-time colleague complained. I nodded sympathetically, while I reached for my phone to see if Shirley had responded to my IG direct messages. ‘Nice, looks like I got a hot date tonight after dinner with said long-term colleague.’
“Do you want to get the bill in about ten minutes?” I asked my long-term colleague. “I might have drinks with an acquaintance later on.”
My long-term colleague, having known me for a few years already and who I suspected leaned towards the homosexual end of the sexuality spectrum, raised his eyebrows, and nodded. I shrugged as if to say, ‘sorry long-term colleague; I am going to miss you and all, but fresh and hot poon will always take priority.’
After dinner, I raced towards the Aubrey which was situated on the twenty-fifth floor of the old Mandarin Oriental – the same building where I had first bumped into Shirley six days ago at the Mandarin Cake Shop but about twenty two floors higher. ‘Poetic symmetry,’ I mused towards myself as I pressed the twenty-five button in the elevator. As I entered the Aubrey, I scoped the bar area, looking for a strategically advantageous position to get cozy. Face to face seating is not ideal for building intimacy as it’s not conducive to the ‘accidental’ physical touch. Consequently, I looked for tables where we would either sit next to each other or at an L shape of a square table sharing the same corner. I found the latter and plopped myself in the plush leather seat.
I ordered an Old Fashioned, and as I took my fourth sip, Shirley arrived and apologized for being a bit late, “Heyyy sorry for being late.” To my pleasant surprise, and perhaps due to my streak of two consecutive weeks of no pornography, no masturbation, and no ejaculation, the conversation between Shirley and I flowed easily. We chatted mainly about her work, what she had done the last 6 years from HKU to now, and I also listened to her bitch about a dude who left her company recently to join mine.
Before I knew it, we had already both finished our second round of drinks, and sensing the night was coming to its natural close, I ordered the bill. As the bill came, Shirley reached for her wallet. “Nah, I got it,” I reassured her. Money is meant to be spent on chasing girls. After some weak protestations from Shirley, I added, “You can get me dinner next time.” (你下次請我食飯啦.)
This was my unsubtle way to test Shirley’s interest in meeting up for a second time. A female colleague of my elder brother once mentioned to him that if the girl doesn’t allow the guy to pay, it means she is not interested – while the converse holds true. This runs afoul of what modern feminists preach, but it seems consistent with personal experience and observations. Shirley replied, “Fine, then I will definitely treat you to dinner.” (咁好啦，我一定請你食飯.)
‘Bingo,’ I thought to myself. I walked her down to the taxi stand in front of Landmark. As we approached the taxi, she turned around to say goodbye. Given it was a public space, a kiss wouldn’t have been appropriate – this is Asia we are talking about. Instead, I reached out for a polite half hug, which she accepted, and then she turned around to enter the taxi.
The next morning at 8 a.m. (Wednesday), I received a WhatsApp message from Shirley. It was a photo of her in a spinning class with a message, “Gimme a round of applause”. I had told her the night before that she would definitely not be able to make her normal spinning workout class the next morning, due to the two drinks and the semi-late night we had on Tuesday night. We keep texting throughout Wednesday, and then at 7.40 p.m., she sends me a WhatsApp message, “Yayyy I’m about to get off work.”
After some chit-chatting, she messaged, “I’m thinking if I should go home or do my nails.” ‘Ahh, this is her “invitation to treat” – i.e. her way of telling me she wants to hang out with me tonight, and indirectly telling me to ask her out.‘
I obliged and responded, “I thought you already went home. If you’re still around and don’t mind being borderline alcoholic, we can get another drink haha.”
She playfully responded, “Where? Inspire me.”
I texted back, “Faye is good.” Faye is a rooftop bar on top of California Tower in Central with good vibes and better views.
She reverted, “Okay, but you have to let me pay this time.” Shirley was only down to have drinks with me on consecutive weekday nights on the condition that I let her pay. I texted her the directions to Faye and ignored her comment about letting her pay. ‘Girls just want plausible deniability before they do anything sexual – i.e. if anything happens between Shirley and I at, or after, Faye, she can justify it to herself, and potentially her friends and social circle, that she had to have drinks with me to ‘pay me back’ for the first night of drinks – i.e. Shirley did not come to drinks with me at Faye for the dominant purpose of hooking up with me.‘
I arrived at Faye first and ordered a glass of chilled white wine. After a few sips in, Shirley arrived, and we ordered a few plates of food and drinks. I ordered Impossible meatballs in an effort to adopt a more sustainable lifestyle and to display my progressive credentials. To Shirley’s credit, she did pay for the food and first round of drinks – as the restaurant/bar would issue an invoice immediately after the food or drinks arrived at our table.
As we neared the end of our first round of drinks, I asked her, “Do you want another round of drinks?” (要唔要多一杯？)
Shirley nodded her head and I gestured for the waiter to come over. The whole night we just chatted about normal conversion, as opposed to sexually charged conversation topics or games to enhance physical touch. I had sensed Shirley was attracted to me, so the next step was to ensure there was sufficient rapport between the two of us. Normal conversation – or fluff – helps build rapport, while sexually charged conversation builds attraction.
Generally speaking, the gurus of pick-up – Neil Strauss and his mentor, Erik von Markovik (or more commonly known by their pen names, Style and Mystery) – teach that to hook up with a woman, she needs to feel attraction and rapport before both parties can move towards the seduction phase (so three phases: attraction → rapport → seduction). In my opinion, there are a variety of ways to get a woman to feel attracted to you. You could go the more traditional routes – be successful, rich, handsome and tall – and/or you could also be interesting, be funny and be confident. The pick-up artists, or PUAs, generally eschew the more traditional routes in favor of being interesting, funny and/or confident. Guys like Neil Strauss and his mentor Erik von Markovik would cold-approach women and have a variety of routines to build attraction – e.g. interesting albeit canned conversation routines, magic tricks, negs, etc. – before transitioning to the rapport phase and then the seduction phase. To me, it’s just different ways to skin a cat – the cat, and therefore the end goal, being to hook up with women. The PUAs will say that their method is inherently more gratifying, and while I generally agree with that view – there is also nothing wrong with women being attracted to successful men. Being successful in your career and life takes hard work and discipline, which are, in themselves, attractive traits. Thus, women being attracted to successful men is inherent and likely hard-wired in their DNA. Consequently, it makes sense to have it both ways for guys: be successful in whatever you do plus absorb what you think is useful from the PUAs.
It was already 10 p.m., and we had been at Faye for around fifty minutes, when I started to think about next steps. ‘How would I transition this conversation at Faye with Shirley into something more? Where would I take Shirley and how should I initiate this transition?‘ As if someone above was listening in to my thought process, drops of rain began to drizzle on us. Given that Faye was a rooftop bar, Shirley and I hurried back to the sheltered parts of the bar. Sensing an opportunity, I suggested to Shirley, “Since it’s raining a bit, why don’t we go back to my office for a bit?” (而家落雨喎，不如我哋去我office 坐一陣?)
Shirley raised her eyebrows and asked me, “Isn’t there anyone in your office?” (你office 無人咩？)
“Nah, there’s no one at my office now,” (而家真係無乜人,) I replied and then also added, “You can sit for a bit, maybe around thirty minutes or less, as I have to wake up early tomorrow.” (你可以坐一陣，唔會超過半個鐘，因為已經有啲夜，同埋我聽朝都要早反.) The purpose of adding the latter limitation of thirty minutes was to give Shirley the comfort of plausible deniability – i.e. Shirley could tell herself that she genuinely thought she was coming up to my office to sit and chill for thirty minutes and not to hook up for hours. Seduction is like dancing – the rules of the game stipulate that the man leads the woman.
As Shirley hesitated and deliberated my proposition near the rooftop bar of Faye, I pressed the elevator button to go down the lobby. “Let’s just take a walk around,” I suggested.
Before we knew it, we arrived at the ground floor lobby entrance to my office. This represented the point of no return for Shirley, and she knew it. “Are you sure there’s no one at your office?” (你肯定上邊無人？) She hissed in quiet desperation.
“Don’t worry – it’s totally fine,” I waved off her worries and pressed the floor button to my office. Unsure of what to do, Shirley followed my footsteps into the elevator as if she were following my lead in a tango dance.
After I guided Shirley into my office, I closed the door, gently locked it, and also kept the lights to my room off. “Come check out the view,” (睇睇個景啦,) I guided Shirley further into my office and gestured towards the city lights of Hong Kong glittering through the windows situated at the back of my office and behind my computer. Shirley stopped on the side of my room with her back leaning against the grey floor-to-ceiling cabinets lined up against the wall, and nodded politely towards the night view. ‘Now or never‘, I thought to myself. I took a deep breath, turned, and strode towards Shirley who was still standing with her back against the grey cabinets and her gaze casted downwards to her right. I stood about a meter opposite from her and placed my right hand on the grey cabinet next to her face. “How do you like my room?” (你覺得我間房如何？) I whispered to Shirley, as I placed my right finger underneath her chin to raise her gaze up. Our eyes locked, and I flickered my gaze between her lips and eyes – as if to implicitly tell Shirley I was about to kiss her on the lips – and moved my head halfway forward and paused for a second. Shirley still didn’t move as our panting breaths seemed to quicken in anticipation of what was about to happen. After the one-second pause, I decided, ‘fuck it – let’s go for it‘, and closed the gap between our lips.
To my surprise, Shirley’s mouth quickly opened, and her tongue slipped out to meet mine. As our tongues dueled in increasing intensity, I moved my left hand downwards from her chin and rested it lightly on her right D-cup breast. Not sensing any objection from Shirley, I began to squeeze her right breast with increasing urgency and force until Shirley softly moaned in my mouth. Sensing things were about to get out of hand, Shirley placed both of her hands on my chest to lightly push me off and to catch her breath.
“I usually don’t go this fast – I’m not that loose.” (我平時唔會咁快，我無咁隨便架.) Shirley gasped while her big breasts heaved up and down in shivering excitement.
“Of course – I’m also not that kind of person.” (當然，我都唔係咁既人.) I replied back noncommittally. Shirley wanted to get it on record that she was not a slut – given that society often judges women who put out in a short period of time – or in our case, two dates. This kind of backward thinking and judgment probably stemmed from a patriarchal perspective of sexually insecure men who wanted to shackle women into being submissive subjects of their respective husbands.
After Shirley put it on record that she was not a slut, I placed my left hand back on her chin and leaned in. Shirley’s lips met mine and our lips kissed even more forcefully; my left hand then moved downwards past her breasts and down to her pants. Shirley moaned even louder as my fingers grazed her crotch from on the outside of her pants. ‘Seems like she likes it,’ I thought to myself, ‘time to go in.‘ Shirley made no resistance as my left hand slipped inside her pants and panties, past her hairless crotch and into her soaking wet pussy.
“Uhh,” Shirley moaned deeper into my mouth as our tongues continued french kissing. The middle finger of my left hand slid up and down Shirley’s wet vaginal opening a few times before it settled on her clit, situated at the top of her vagina. As the middle finger of my left hand rubbed Shirley’s clit, my right hand pulled Shirley’s shirt down – exposing her light pink areola and nipple of her large D-cup breast. My right hand lightly kneaded her breast and toyed with her hard nipples, and quickly drove Shirley to explosive levels of excitement.
It was at this moment when Shirley surprisingly plunged her right hand to my crotch and rubbed my hard cock from the outside of my dark grey pants. Her hands unbuckled my pants and I shivered in enjoyment as her bare left hand began to jerk me off in the dark night of my office. ‘I hope my colleagues next door can’t hear this – if they’re in at 11 p.m.,’ I recklessly thought to myself as I savored this unexpected handjob from a beautiful girl.
We continued to make out heavily for five minutes when I began to think about where I put my condoms. ‘Definitely have to put her face down on my desk and fuck her brains out from behind.’ As if sensing my thoughts, Shirley pulled back and panted, “We can’t go any further here.” (唔可以係度做呀.)
“Of course – we go at your pace.” I tried to placate Shirley and took one step back before trying to move two steps forward – the classic ‘one step back to take two steps forward’ strategy. As Neil Strauss and Erik von Markovik explain it, girls will often have ‘last-minute resistance’, or LMR, before having sex. One of their methods for blasting through LMR is to take ‘one step back before taking two steps forward’ – meaning to slow things down physically for a while before moving forwards to sex. This could mean transitioning from heavy making out to cuddling. The rationale behind the ‘one step back and two steps forward’ approach, as Erik von Markovik explains it, is that women are designed to figure out whether you will stick around after sex or not. From an evolutionary standpoint, this is important to her, because she needs the man’s help in raising her children. Therefore, what the ‘one step back and two steps forward’ approach does is it shows the girl that sex is not the only thing you’re after and therefore you are more likely to stick around after sex. Obviously, it’s not a fool-proof method and there’s a lot of various factors at play. Also, in light of the Me-Too movement, it’s critical the guy receives unambiguous consent to proceed to sex. If the girl is not ready despite various methods and attempts, the best and morally correct approach is to respect the girl’s wishes and either try again another day or move on to the next girl.
With the ‘one step back and two steps forward’ approach in my mind, I dialed it back a notch and brought Shirley into a warm embrace. After a few minutes, we kissed again, and as I moved my left hand down her pants, she sensed my intentions and repeated, “We can’t go any further here.” (唔可以係度做呀.) After another round of rinse and repeat with the “one step back and two steps forward” approach but still receiving the same result from Shirley, I finally acquiesced and decided sex with Shirley would have to wait another day.
I refrained from texting Shirley until 10 p.m. the next day (on Thursday) in an effort to play it cool. There’s always a balance between playing it cool and striking the iron while it’s hot. Personally, I lean towards the latter – striking the iron while it’s hot – as I’m genuinely busy with other things going on in my life. If I feel like moving things forward and things are generally going well, I try to seize the opportunity.
I texted her, “How’s your day today? Late night at work?”
She replied, “Yes, long night. Give me a virtual hug.”
I comforted her, “Aww poor baby. Here are some virtual hugs.” Then I asked her, “Do you want to get dinner tomorrow night to end the week right?”
About an hour later, Shirley replied in the affirmative, “can.”
‘Nice – this means that she is keen to take things to the next level,’ I thought to myself.
Shirley and I planned to meet at Francis, a Middle Eastern restaurant, located at Star Street in Wan Chai at around 8:30 p.m. Given it was a walk-in restaurant and therefore did not take reservations, I was apprehensive whether we could get a table. My fears came to light when I arrived at 8:40 p.m. and saw Shirley standing outside the restaurant.
“The restaurant said they’re full for the night already.” (餐廳話今晚已經full 晒.)
“Oh really? Let’s check out nearby restaurants then.”(係咩？咁我哋睇下附近有無其他餐廳.) We walked around the nearby Star Street neighborhood, but it seemed that every restaurant was fully booked out that Friday evening.
‘Shit, what am I going to do? Come on, George, think of something,‘ I thought to myself in quiet desperation while putting on a brave face. After stammering for a few moments trying to think of a solution, I asked Shirley, “Do you want to order takeout to my place? There’s no one at my home.” (要唔要唉外賣？我屋企而家無人.)
To my pleasant surprise, Shirley accepted my suggestion with no hesitation, “Yeah, that’s fine.” (好呀，都ok.) I quickly flagged down a taxi before Shirley could change her mind, and tried to think of appropriate takeout food to order: ‘pizza maybe?‘
“So, uh, what kind of food do you want to order?” (咁呀，你想食的咩野？) I nervously stammered, as I tried to break the ice with Shirley. Both of us could feel the nervous tension building up during the taxi ride back to my place, as we both knew we were about to cross the bridge that separated an innocent one-off make-out session to a full-blown sexual relationship.
“Anything is good – I don’t really eat much at night.” (我咩都得，其實我夜晚都唔係好食野.) Shirley responded in a perfunctory tone.
‘Hmm, is this a sign she is not that interested?‘ My brain began to hijack itself with negativity. ‘Or maybe she’s just as nervous (if not more nervous) than me,’ I tried to reassure myself.
“Okay, let’s get pizza and a salad then,” I tried to respond in a cheery tone. We sat through the rest of the taxi ride in silence with our eyes awkwardly fixated on the passing scenery. I did not try to initiate physical touch with Shirley in the taxi, as Hong Kong was just too small to risk any form of gossip floating around. It’s true when people say that Chinese people can have sex, but they cannot talk about it – i.e. Chinese people can be as wild as they want in private but they should be prim and proper in public. This kind of seemingly contradictory dichotomy probably is not the best medicine for mental health, but hey – I’m just a young guy trying to get my nut off with a hot girl.
After the long ride, I instructed the taxi driver to drop us off the little-used back entrance. “Welcome,” I gallantly opened the back entrance to the apartment complex and invited Shirley to step through. I pressed floor twenty-seven to take us into my apartment. “Here – let me give you a tour,” I gestured for Shirley to follow me through the living room where we gazed at the various family photographs stacked between the living room and dining room.
“Oh, is this your brother?” (係唔係你哥呀？) Shirley asked, gesturing at a photo of me and my brother dressed in tuxedos at a wedding a few years back.
“Yeah, he is my younger brother. Who is more handsome though?” (係呀，邊個靚仔啲先？) I tried to loosen the mood with a playful question.
Shirley giggled, as we moved through the rest of the photographs, then through the study room until I gently guided her to my bedroom. “And now, welcome to my bedroom,” I smiled with a cocky grin and guided Shirley in front of me with her back facing the bookshelves lined up against the wall.
“What are you doing?” (你係度做咩呀？) Shirley tried to play the innocent lamb, as both of her hands reached out to encircle my neck, and my hands did the same around her waist.
“Shhh,” I bent my neck downwards as I confidently puckered my lips for a kiss.
Shirley met my lips with equal force, as our tongues briefly twirled like tango dancers before she gasped, “Wait, shouldn’t we order our dinner first?” (等陣，唔係要唉野食咩？)
“Umm, yeah ok – let me order something.” I reached for my phone and opened the Deliveroo app, “Is pizza ok?” Shirley wanted me to order dinner to ensure she had the cover of plausible deniability, and therefore could tell herself that she really came up to my place for the main purpose of eating and not to have sex.
After I completed my order for a pizza on the Deliveroo app, I put my phone back down, and noted, “We now have thirty minutes to kill.” (Deliveroo 需要三十分鐘喎.) I turned to face Shirley who was now sitting on the edge of my bed and asked her with a naughty grin, “What do you want to do in the meantime?” I gently pushed Shirley onto the center of my queen-sized bed and crawled on top of her. I gazed deep into her large, almond-shape and brown eyes before closing my eyes to lose myself in the deepening levels of intimacy with Shirley.
As we deepened our making out, I began to uncover each article of Shirley’s clothing and removed my clothes to match her increasing state of nakedness. I removed Shirley’s blouse to reveal a pale, tight and flat stomach at the bottom and bountiful breasts at the top straining to be freed from the black bra temporarily clasping them in place. “Let’s get this bra off,” I whispered to Shirley as my right hand snuggled itself underneath her bra and twirled the nipple on top of her left breast.
Shirley’s eyes, previously closed from enjoyment of my ministrations on her body, fluttered open and wordlessly sat back up to quickly unclasp her black bra. Her breasts sprang free, and I quickly grabbed both of them, and pushed Shirley back down on my bed. I twirled my tongue on both of her nipples, now hard as granite rock. “Mmmhmm,” Shirley softly moaned as her body contorted itself in pleasure. I then moved both of my hands down to the side of Shirley’s black panties, and with assistance from Shirley, smoothly pulled them off her body.
‘Oh nice, her pussy is shaved,‘ I thought to myself as I ran my hands on and around her crotch. I would later learn that she had gone through laser hair removal for her body hair – a feminine woman indeed. Given how pretty her vagina looked and how eager I was to please Shirley, I moved my kisses down Shirley’s body and positioned my head between her open legs. I kissed her vulva and inner thighs surrounding her vagina to ease the foreplay before my tongue flickered right on top of Shirley’s wet pussy for its first taste. ‘Not bad at all‘, I thought to myself, ‘a light smell, not too pungent.‘
“Mmmhmmmmm,” Shirley moaned louder in increasing delight as she enjoyed my talented tongue dancing around the engorged lips of her vagina, with her inner thighs squeezed tight on both sides of my head. My tongue would shape-shift from hard to soft, and sensually moved up and down her vagina and around in circles. After a few minutes of slow and long licks around her vagina, I moved towards the top part of her vagina where I hoped her clitoris would be situated. My tongue flickered around the top bit of her vagina before it settled on the protruding and engorged nub which I guessed was Shirley’s clitoris. My tongue transitioned from dancing around her vagina and focused its attention on the protruding nub. Shirley began to lift her hips up in an effort to grind her pussy on my tongue. ‘I guess she is liking it,’ I thought to myself as my face was buried deep between her legs.
Shirley’s hips went buck wild as I slipped in my right middle finger in her vagina, while my tongue continued to lap on her clitoris. “Urrrghh,” Shirley moaned in increasing urgency. My right palm faced up and rested on the mound of Shirley’s pussy, as the middle finger moved up and back in a ‘come hither’ motion to further excite Shirley’s G-spot. After a few minutes of licking Shirley’s clitoris and my right finger urgently fingering her G-spot, Shirley, eyes closed, arched her lower back up, let out a long moan, and clamped her inner thighs on both sides of my head. I let Shirley enjoy her orgasm until she giggled and pushed my head off, “It’s too sensitive right now.”
I reached to the side of my bed where I had strategically placed Durex condoms. I ripped open the packaging and rolled the transparent and plastic condom down on my rock-hard cock. Shirley, still breathing heavily from her orgasm, looked at me as she lay flat on her back, her head propped up by my two pillows and legs sprayed open. I pulled her legs to me, as I aimed my cock right at the entrance of her pussy. Our eyes locked for two seconds, and then I whispered to her, “Put it in.” She dutifully obliged and reached under her left leg to guide my cock in her pussy.
“Oooh fuck,” I moaned in her right ear, as my cock conquered through Shirley’s impossibly tight pussy. “You’re soo tight.” After I worked the entire length of my penis into her vagina, I let it rest for a moment for both of us to get used to the feeling of me inside her. I then slowly began to rock my hips back and then forward, and established a slow fucking rhythm, as Shirley’s hips moved up to meet each of my thrusts. “You like that?” I whispered in Shirley’s ear as I continued my dirty talk. Her arms wrapped tightly around my neck and then her nails dug into the skin of my upper back as our hips started to rock faster. I could feel Shirley’s juices flow out of her vagina and soak my inner thighs and my bed, as we fucked for a good ten minutes. ‘Wow, this girl is soaking wet,” I thought to myself in amazement and slight relief, as my hips continued to hammer away to a steady rhythmic beat.
After a solid ten minutes of sex in the missionary position with my elbows rested on both sides of Shirley’s head – my sexual longevity aided in no small part by the latex condom enclosed around my penis and therefore decreasing its sensitivity – I decided to change positions before the finale. “Come here,” I pulled Shirley’s hand and led her a few steps to stand in front of my bathroom mirror. I placed her hands in front of her on the sink in front of the mirror as I positioned myself behind – that way, we could both see each other via the mirror reflection. “You wanna get fucked?” I toyed with Shirley, as I teased my cock around the entrance of her pussy.
“You’re so annoying – hurry up and put it in!” (你好煩呀，快啲啦！) Shirley exclaimed in a shy voice, as she looked over her shoulder with both hands gripped on the bathroom sink in front of her. Deciding that was as far she’d go with the dirty talk that night, I obliged Shirley and pressed my cock inside her from behind. “Oooh,” sighed Shirley as her head drooped slightly to its right side with eyes semi-closed as if she was enjoying the high of a potent drug.
I picked up the pace as I slammed my hips into Shirley’s rear end like a piston pump. My hands moved from gripping Shirley’s tight waist to my left hand pulling on her hair from behind – further arching Shirley’s sexy back – and my right hand mauling her right breast. “You like that? Are you my slut?” I whispered in Shirley’s right ear.
“Ahh, uhhh,” Shirley weakly moaned back.
I squeezed and molded her bountiful right breast and then sharply pinched her right nipple. My hips continued to slap with increasing abandon against her pale buttocks. “Do you want me to cum inside you?” I knew full well that I was wearing a condom, but dirty talking about unprotected ejaculation was a favorite of mine.
Shirley continued to moan and tightly gripped the bathroom sink in front of her to hold on, as I continued to plough everything I had in her. I could feel my balls begin to churn – a tell-tale sign of my impending ejaculation. My breath quickened and nostrils flared, and I gripped Shirley’s hips even tighter to hold her pussy in place to meet my ravaging thrusts. “Arrrghh,” I roared as my body thought it deposited millions of sperm in a voluptuous and young female body – but in fact had only deposited such sperm in a latex condom.
After a few seconds, I pulled my semen-filled condom still clinging around my softening penis and dropped the condom in the toilet before flushing it away.
After we both freshened up, Shirley and I cuddled for a bit and watched some Netflix – the classic Netflix and chill, but the order flipped this time. As her head rested on my right shoulder while we flicked through a few different Netflix choices, I thought to myself: ‘Great lay but not sure about the long term prospects of a relationship with Shirley. Maybe a few more hook-ups, but probably not anything more. Also it seems that the COVID lockdowns and not being able to travel abroad are also making girls go crazy and making them do things they’d originally refrain from doing for some excitement. Let’s see how this plays out…‘