There was very little mysterious about a white or Caucasian woman's body for my generation even though we lived in a coloured, Asian region. We grew up on a staple of Western porn and we'd seen more pink nipples, reddish areolas, shaved creamy pubic mounds, or blonde pubic hair, glistening pink pussies and light brown anuses than their much darker counterparts on our own women.

And although a white woman remained a huge fantasy, we were more than content with our own girls and women. The colour of her skin hardly mattered when her pussy squeezed your dripping wet cock as you tried to pull out and push in.

That was until today I told myself, slightly jolted as Emma nudged her cheek against my bare shoulder and her short, curled brown hair tickled me in the face. She moved her bare legs across my left thigh and brought it to rest on my flaccid cock and balls, in the process rubbing her sticky pussy and cum-coated sparse hair around it to my thigh. Then she continued to sleep like a baby, just like she had been after our four-hour sexathon.

Could this all be a dream, or worse, just another fantasy, I asked myself. It couldn't be. I could still smell the sex in the air, her raw, musky scents and mine, mingled in the room, on the sheets and the blankets, and more strongly, on both our skins, faces, lips. And I could still taste the mix of my cum and her cream in my mouth. Hell, I must be one lucky son of a gun, I thought. Not only had I managed some wild sex in a long long time, I had managed it with an extremely attractive Occidental woman and a co-worker to boot.

And to think that the same morning, when we got off the plane in Singapore, I was telling myself how I had to be pretentiously sweet to my senior, expat co-worker with whom I'd be spending a week at a training programme. That too without expecting any favours in return. We may have been working for the same company and it was a world of equal rights and opportunties all right, but cultural differences remained and beyond a point, few expat women, or even men for that matter, got too friendly with the locals.

We landed in Singapore on a Sunday morning and had the day to ourselves before the programme began on Monday. We rode a taxi together and checked into our rooms at the Westin Plaza. I was a little surprised when Emma asked the front desk to give us rooms next to each other, or at least close by, so that one of us could pop in to the other's room for a chat in what can otherwise be a boring city.

Although we'd worked together for more than a year in the same office, our relationship was completely professional and we hardly talked of anything outside of work. Something I thought was due to the fact that she probably had an expat, superiority complex. Now, this was our first trip together and at least it seemed to have a gotten off to a pleasant start.

We checked in to our rooms, showered, went down for a hearty buffet breakfast and at Emma's suggestion decided to loaf around town a bit for want of anything better to do. At least it was better than sitting alone and watching some senseless TV in a hotel room, I thought.

Not that being around with Emma wasn't an incentive. She had everything and more to get the hormones racing and the flesh between men's legs straining. Emma was in her late 30s, a few years older than me, but looked at least five years younger. She was petite, about 5'2", had a pleasant, square face with sharp features. Short, brown hair and wore glasses when she fancied it, which only accentuated her sexuality. Whoever said men don't make passes at women in glasses. Her small breasts went with her petite frame, as did her narrow waist, a well-proportioned but deliciously curved bottom, and shapely legs to match.

Like Hugh Hefner or someone of his ilk once said, anything of a woman which is more than you can get in your hands or mouth is a waste. Although I didn't completely agree with that all the time, when it came to Emma, it made perfect sense. She had no flesh to waste.

So there I was, out on the tree-lined avenues of a sultry Singapore with Emma, who was all the tourist, dressed in cargo trousers and a striped cotton tank-top, which ended somewhere around her navel. It gave me a nice view of the puny bulge of her tummy before the waistline of her cargo trouser began a nip above where her blonde curls must be, I imagined.

It was a nice first hour until the clear sky and a blazing sun began taking their toll on me as we roamed the streets and window shopped at those gleaming malls Singapore is known for. But being English, Emma was loving the sun despite the fact that it was making her sweat profusely and had gotten her tank-top to cling to her slim torso and small breasts.

"I feel like getting a beer and may be sit down in the lawn or patio of a restaurant. Would you like that Dhruv," Emma asked me as we walked by a row of shops and restaurants.

"You read my mind Emma," I said, relieved this ordeal was about to end. "Can't take the humidity any more."

So we found a nice little bar by a canal, ordered beers and a salad and blessed the waiter for offering us cold towels and grabbed the tall glasses as soon as they arrived. Both of us were tired and we spoke little as we ordered a second and then a third beer before we hailed a cab and returned to the hotel.

"So Dhruv, what are your plans for the afternoon," Emma asked as we entered the lobby.

"I'm thinking of a shower and may be a nap. The walk in the sun and the beer have gotten me a bit drowsy," I replied.

"Lucky you, to be able to sleep in the afternoon. I can never sleep in the afternoon unless I .....," she left the sentence hanging. Before I could ask "unless what", she continued:

"Never mind. I've suddenly realized all the walking has left my feet sore. God knows I could use a nice foot massage. But the hotel's service list does not mention a masseur. What a pity," she said.

A foot massage, now that set my mind in overdrive. I loved getting massages and giving them too. Foot massages, back rubs, shoulder rubs, head massages. Women and some men friends lucky to experience my hands and fingers have always returned for more.

With some of the women, massages led to other, more erotic kinds of rubbing. Of course, Emma wouldn't have an inkling of my ability in this area. Should I offer, I wondered as we waited for the elevator. Would I be overstepping my limits if I offered? Would she think me to be another slimy prick wanting to pounce on a white woman? Remember, she's a senior at work, and one wrong move and I may actually need to go out there and look for a new job, may be this time as a masseur!

Or what if she actually agrees and lets me do it? Questions, questions, questions. The best way to end the dilemma was to go ahead and just ask, I told myself. And I don't know where I summoned the courage from, but I did.

"Emma, if you don't mind me offering, you know I've done a crash course in massage therapy during a holiday in Thailand and would love to rub your feet," I blurted, trying to mask the partial lie. The only thing I'd learnt in Thailand was to let those seductive Thai women rub me to heaven. And that was education enough for me to try it on others.

"And I won't even charge a penny," I smilingly added as we entered the elevator.

"What? Dhruv, are you pulling a fast one on me? You never ever told me you knew massage therapy," Emma sounded genuinely surprised.

"You never asked until today," I smiled. "But I'm serious. And this is an honest offer."

"Hey, I don't know if I'd be comfortable with the idea. But you've made a very tempting offer, I must confess."

"Then just go ahead and find out. If you don't feel comfortable we can stop and call it off. Anyway, it's just a foot massage."

She couldn't counter that one. So we agreed to shower in our rooms before I went over to her room opposite mine for the "therapy".

My cock was stiff as I got into the shower and I couldn't believe my luck. Beautiful Emma was letting me give her a massage, even if it was just her feet. Wow, I said aloud, even as I struggled to distract my dick so that she wouldn't notice my bulging groin and change her mind.

I wore cargo shorts, a plain cotton T-shirt and called Emma's room to check if she was ready.

"Knock on my door in five," she said.

I did. Emma's room had a better view than mine I realized, as she opened the door and let me in. We were on the 23rd floor and she had a large window overlooking the sea and the harbour.

The room smelt of a nice, mild, feminine eau de toilette, probably CK. The bed was covered and I noticed Emma had put her sweat-drenched clothes from the morning in a heap in a corner. She was now wearing a loose light-blue pajama and a dark blue T-shirt which had the words "What the Heck" printed on the breast.

What was that in the heap, I wondered. Was that a lacy, pink panty she had tried to hide and not fully succeeded?

"So where do you want me to sit Mr. Thai masseur," Emma suddenly interrupted my wandering mind. "And would you need a moisturizer or lotion or some such thing for the massage?"

"Wherever you'd like to sit ma'm," I played along. "May be on the sofa by the window, looking out at the sea? I'll need some moisturizer but very little of it."

"Perfect," she said, went to the bathroom and returned with a small bottle of moisturizer before settling down on the sofa. I took off my slippers and sat at her feet.

"Just sit back, relax and close your eyes. I wish there was some soothing music to go along, but it's still ok," I said. "I am good at this and trust me, you'll like it."

"Sure. I can't thank you enough for offering to do this Dhruv," she said.

I first took her left feet in both my hands and pressed it and rubbed it all around in quick motions to loosen the muscles and relax the nerves. Such lovely little feet, I thought. And such dainty toes with perfectly shaped nails.

I started working on her ankle since the harder part of the feet need to relax first and then the softer sections like the toes and the sole. I clutched her ankle with my fingers and began gently kneading and pulling down in a straight line towards her toes.

She inhaled deeply and let out a loud sigh. Her left feet jerked a bit from the sensation and I looked up at her face to see if she was in pain. Instead I found her face had expanded and she was trying hard to not make more sounds.

"It's all right Emma," I told her. "Don't hold yourself back. Just be yourself. Only I can hear any sounds you make, and you are safe with me. And let me know if the pressure is too much or if I hurt you."

"Oh thanks Dhruv, it feels so good," she said and drifted back to whichever world she was in.

I dabbed a little moisturizer to my fingers and continued kneading her ankle and the sides of her feet and heels. The heavy breathing and sighing had now made way for rather loud moans and groans. She wasn't making it easy for me but I kept telling myself I had to focus on what I had offered.

After finishing with her ankles and sides I moved to her sole and began pressing it with both my thumbs. "That tickles a bit," she said giggling like a teenager.

"You want me to stop," I asked.

"No no, it feels good. It's been so long since my sole was pressed, and I am a bit ticklish there but the pleasure overrides everything else....go on, go on," she said.

The sole done, I moved to her toes. I was glad she had clean toes with no dead skin or corns or warts or injuries from wearing the wrong footwear. They can be such a put off for a toe massage. Besides she had no nail paint and her toe nails were a natural pink, perfect.

I began with smallest toe, gently pulling it and pressing it with my fingers. Each toe got five minutes and by the time I finished the left foot I must have spent nearly an hour on it. And if anyone heard Emma's sounds and didn't know she was getting only a foot massage, they would have to be forgiven if they thought she was in the middle of some passionate love making.

As I let go of her left foot and moved to her right, I was tempted to kiss the top of her left feet as I usually do at the end with women I know better. But with Emma, I let it pass. I was anyways wondering what must be going through her mind, if anything at all. Am sure she never imagined letting me give her a foot massage and get her to moan in uninhibited pleasure.

My mind started working as I took her right foot in my hands. I didn't need to think much about the massage since I was working on auto-pilot and I knew how much pressure was right for Emma. So I started wondering, what next?

To say that I was aroused was an understatement. My penis was straining against my Y fronts all through the massage and I could also feel some wet juices at its tip. For starters, I wanted to take Emma's dainty toes in my mouth and suck and nibble on them until she begged me to stop. And then...

Emma was married but while she worked in Asia her husband, George, lived in Chicago. He was a baseball coach and could not get away from his job to be where his wife was. They met like twice a year or so, either of them traveling to the city the other was in. So by that calculation, Emma was getting sex for about two weeks at a stretch two times a year. That was of course assuming she wasn't sleeping around. But then, she didn't seem to be. Our office was quick to latch on to any such signs and start spreading the news.

So is there an opening for me here today? Should I fancy my chances? Well, I wasn't a bad looker myself. I was 5'7", athletic, no flab, single, smart, witty (or so they said) and had proved myself so far in the massage department. But was Emma monogamous? And if not, would she let a brown, oriental man seduce her?

I realized I had finished with her right foot and needed answers fast or I would have to return to my room and get myself off to relieve all the sexual tension that had built so far.

I let go of her right foot slowly and let her relax for a few minutes, gather her breath.

"Are we done dear," she asked in a whisper, pleasantly surprising me with the endearment. "Dear?", now that was a nice first.

"Yes Emma. Hope your feet feel better now," I asked.

"Better? They are in heaven. Dhruv, has anyone told you that you are in the wrong bloody profession? You should open a massage parlour and you'd be minting money."

"Well, that's a new compliment," I lied. Almost all my women had said much the same things. "But if I started a massage business, then I'd have to press all kinds of feet and not just the ones I love rubbing."

"You mean you liked giving me a massage today?" She asked.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't," I replied, thinking that the conversation seemed to be heading in a nice direction.

And then I decided to throw my dice. I looked into her eyes with all sincerity, and asked: "Is there anything else you'd like me to do for you Emma?"

NO, THANK YOU, was the answer I was expecting. But she looked me back in the eye and like a child pleading, she asked: "Well, actually yes Dhruv. Would I be taking advantage of your goodness if I asked you to massage my calves as well?"

WOWIE I thought. Now that's good progress.

"I'd love to," I said, with a faint, mischievous tingle in my eyes and voice.

"Oh great, thanks a million Dhruv. But before that, I feel like a glass of red wine. Would you mind if I opened a bottle? Would you like one too?

"You know I picked up a couple at the duty free for the bosses. Am sure we can cut out one of them," she went on.

It was past 4 in the evening and I loved red wine. Perfect I thought, go on Emma, take me where you want, I told myself.

"Sure, I'd love some wine," I said. She quickly got off the sofa, went to a closet and brought a bottle of French Merlot.

"Let me do the honours," I said. She gave me the bottle and the opener and I uncorked it and poured two glasses. We tinkled the rims and took our sips, it tasted divine, like always.

"Shall we get started then," Emma asked, settling down on the sofa again while I sat down on another at some distance.

"One small problem," I said. "You won't be comfortable in your pajamas for a calf massage and I won't be able to do a good job with it on. Would you mind changing into a pair of shorts or may be a skirt?"

"Oh, I didn't think of that," she said. "Let me see what I have packed."

Emma went to her luggage and looked in. "Nah, tough luck," she said. "What do we do?" she said, looking a little disappointed.

"Hang on, have they kept a bath robe in the bathroom?" I asked.

"Oh yes, they have. How come I didn't think of it. You are such a genius," she smiled and headed to the bathroom. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

When she returned, her pajamas were off and she was covered in a peach coloured, cotton-satin mix bathrobe that seemed to be the right size. Obviously house-keeping had ensured they'd kept the right size for petite Ms. Emma.

The robe had been tied tight at the waist and I couldn't make out if she was still wearing the T-shirt under it. Emma returned to the sofa and took a sip of her wine.

"I'm all yours now Dhruv," she said, with a mischievous smile.

My heart skipped a beat. Is she leading me on, or just teasing?

"Great. By the way, can you loosen the robe string at your waist Emma. Tying it so tight is not good for the blood circulation, especially during a massage," I asked.

"Sure. In fact, why don't you loosen it as much as you want Mr. Expert," she said.

"No problem," I said and stood up on my knees and untied the string. The robe parted a bit and I got my confirmation. She had taken off her T-shirt. It was such a turn on. There was Emma, in just a bath robe, and probably a bra and panties.

I returned to my position by her feet and started kneading and pulling her right calf. Calves are much simpler to massage. They don't have any twists or turns or corners like the feet and on someone built slim like Emma, they aren't too fleshy or bulky either.

I began building a rhythm, using more moisturizer here since there was a larger expanse of skin to cover, starting from behind her knees where I had gently parted her bath robe, and pulling my fingers and palm down in one clean motion.

She began building her moaning and groaning rhythm.

As I rubbed down at equal intervals, Emma continued to moan and whimper and part her legs wider. With it, the robe was also beginning to part more and a small stretch of her silky smooth thigh was now becoming visible. I couldn't avoid looking even if I wanted to. She had closed her eyes and was blissfully unaware, or so I presumed.

Outside the window, the sun had begun to set over the harbour and the lights of the city were coming on. We hadn't switched on any in the room so my view of Emma would soon be hampered. I finished the right leg and moved to her left.

Just as I began the rubbing routine, Emma slowly parted her legs further, and there it was. I could see the thigh on the opposite side all the way through, and then, small curls of light brown hair, the puffed pink outer lips of her pussy, and a small stretch of white thong that was soaked before it disappeared between the outer lips.

For a moment I stopped rubbing and started staring. She just lay there on the sofa and I quickly resumed kneading her calf so that she wouldn't realise she was giving me a very rare and beautiful view. As I rubbed her, I tried to breathe deep and inhale the aroma of her arousal. My nose was hardly two feet from her wetness and there was an unmistakable musky feel in the air. The invitation was good enough I thought. Make your move Dhruv, give it a shot, I told myself. For better or for worse, hopefully for the better.

I got back up on my knees and since I had finished with the left leg as well, put one hand on each of her knees, began kneading and rubbing them together, slowly allowing my fingers and palms to feel her smooth lower thigh. I don't know how I was able to restrain myself. All I wanted to do was dive in between those thighs, bite all that smooth flesh and lick and soak in her wetness.
I continued with the knee and moved my hands slowly upward and began rubbing the thigh above. She seemed to stir a little and spread her thighs wider, and her breathing was unmistakably getting heavier.

Was she aware or was she just letting herself get carried away? Should I err on the side of caution or just let myself get carried away too? My head preferred the former, my cock the latter. I listened to my head!

"Emma, you comfortable with this?" I whispered.

"Yes dear. Don't talk. And don't stop," she moaned, her eyes still closed.

All my doubts flew out of the 23rd floor window. And I seemed possessed by all that white flesh in front of me. I continued kneading her thighs, rubbing the insides and going all the way up until they met at her waist.

I pushed my hands inside the robe, towards the outside of her waist and on the sweet mounds of her bottom, pulled them apart while pressing them and slowly brought the pressure down the underside of her thighs.

"Oh gawd," Emma moaned.

I repeated that a couple of times and she began to squirm under the touch and pressure. I bent forward and planted a soft kiss on the inside of her right thigh first and then the left, let my tongue roll on the skin and gave it a small bite, startling her.

"Holy shit, you planning to kill me with all this tenderness Dhruv?"

"Don't talk," I said. "Just lie back and soak in it."

I kept kneading her bottom, which was squirming more and more now and kissed and licked my way up until my nose came in contact with her pussy.

It was my turn to moan. The scent of a woman was always heady, but this time it seemed headier, may be because she was my first white woman. I sniffed and rubbed my nose on her lips and on the wet thong. Planted a very light kiss on the lips, causing her to groan loudly.

Then came more kisses, each one harder than the previous one and before I could realise, Emma had her fingers in my hair, brushing and playing with it as I went to work on her pussy. I stuck my tongue out and gave her a slow lick, from the bottom to the top. As I did, I could feel the wet fabric of the thong between her lips.

I moved my hands to her waist and found the thin band of her thong. I started pulling it down and Emma raised her hips to help me. I got both her feet out of the thong and brought the flimsy piece of fabric to my nose. The scent of the musky juice felt divine. I couldn't stop inhaling until I licked the soaked up crotch and sucked it into my mouth.

Emma opened her eyes to see why my attention had shifted from her honey pot. "Dirty man," she whispered, and closed her eyes again.

I returned to where my mouth had to belong after fully untying the string of Emma's bath robe and parting it completely to the corners. For a moment I stared at those cute little breasts under her white lace bra. I held Emma by her waist and sank my tongue in her cunt, lapping like a thirsty dog.

She tasted a little sweet and sour. Since Emma was a petite woman, her pussy also kept with her frame. It was hardly a couple of inches from top to bottom. She had a very sparse coating of curled up brown hair on her mound and around her labia. She obviously shaved or trimmed it regularly.

I went up and down with practised ease, avoiding too much contact with her clit or pushing my tongue inside. I just wanted to paint the surface with my saliva. This is real dude, I told myself. You are licking a white woman's pussy. Great show, now show her a good time.

I was determined to. All the woman I've licked have told me it was their best lick and no one could match my tongue. I was hoping it would be the same for Emma. I enjoyed nothing more than licking pussy and having a woman come on my face.

Emma was now mewing and moaning without stop. I pulled her closer and pushed my tongue slowly into her vagina, through the folds of her inner lips. She exhaled deeply, sighed and let out a loud moan.

I pulled out slowly and pushed back in, repeating and slowly tongue fucking her. She tried to clasp my tongue with the walls of her pussy and failed. Obviously the lubrication on both surfaces was too much to allow that.

I moved out and lapped upward again, stopping at her tiny clit. I kissed it and tried to take it between my teeth. Emma shuddered. I flicked my tongue across first, and up and down next, increasing the speed gradually. Then I sucked on it like a tiny candy.

"Wow, wow, holy shit," Emma groaned. While my mouth was having all the fun, my fingers were feeling left out. So I moved my right hand under my soaked up chin and probed at Emma's opening with the middle finger, slowly pushing it in through the wet folds.

"Oh Dhruv, I love that. Push it in deeper please, please...," she begged. And I was not one to disappoint her. I went through all the way while continuing to flick her clit and soon the finger seemed to have reached the end of the road. So I probed up, trying to search for her G spot.

The finger seemed to be heightening Emma's pleasure. She was moaning louder and her hips were squirming. A few more minutes and she could orgasm I thought. But I had other plans. I stopped licking her clit and pulled my finger out of her cunt slowly.

I raised her hips a little and tongued my way down, along her perineum, to her tiny, crinkled brown hole. Emma's anus was already wet with all the juice from her cunt and the saliva I had spent around the region.

Strangely, Emma was a little quieter now. Was she wondering what I would do next, or was she waiting for me to do what she desperately wanted? I got my answer as soon as I pushed my tongue in and started rimming her.

"Oh my god, Dhruv, oh my god, I can't tell you how much I love that. Gosh, you are unbelievable."

At first, Emma's anus seemed tasteless. But as I lingered and probed and pushed my tongue in, I realized it had a musky, cheesy taste to it. After what seemed like endless minutes, I reluctantly left her asshole and returned to her pussy, lapping the lips and flicking her clit furiously.

But the asshole couldn't be left unattended. So I licked my middle finger, the one which had earlier been in her cunt, and touched its tip to her anus.

"Oh yes Dhruv, push it in please, finger my bum," she whimpered.

I obeyed without a murmur. Slowly I thrust the finger in. Emma's asshole was tight and I didn't want to hurt her. So I took my time. Soon my entire finger was up her anus and I let it stay motionless for moment before I started moving it around and pulling it back.

That seemed to do it. Emma started to buck and moan faster. "Dhruv, don't stop honey, don't stop, I am close...don't stop," she moaned. I had no intention to. I increased the pace of my finger in her ass and my tongue on her clit. She began to buck even more and then cried out loud, moaning, groaning, growling and whimpering all at the same time.

She bucked and thrashed around for almost a minute and then pulled my head away from her pussy, forcing me to pull my finger out of her ass.

"Oh please stop, I can't take that anymore, please, it's too intense."

I gave her pussy one final kiss and sat back, realizing how exhausted I was myself. My face was coated with her cream and I was as much in bliss as she was. Emma lay still on the sofa for what seemed like ages. And then she moved.

She didn't utter a word. She quietly fetched the wine bottle, poured both of us another glass and started sipping.

"Dhruv," she called out sweetly. "Where in hell were you hiding all this while. And where the hell did you learn to lick like that?"

I just smiled and kept quiet, sloshing the wine around my mouth. Red wine always tasted better a round of pussy juice.

She got off the sofa and came and sat next to me on the carpeted floor. She put the drink down next to her and threw her arms around me, kissing me straight on the lips. I kissed her back and soon our tongues were tasting each other, dancing inside each other's mouths.

Obviously Emma wasn't finished I thought. I certainly wasn't. As we kissed I pushed her bath robe off her shoulders and unclasped the hook of her bra. Her lovely breasts bounced into view, her pencil-thin pink nipples poking stiff. She probably was a 32 B I presumed, but how did it matter as long as I could get it all into my mouth.

I left her lips and bent down to her tits, kneading the left breast and taking the right one in my mouth. I sucked on her nipple, bit it with my lips while twirling the other one between my fingers. And she began to moan again.

"My turn now, mister. Can't let you have all the fun," she said, making me wonder what she was up to. She pulled away from me and went down to the buttons of my cargo shorts. She unbuttoned it and pulled it off me. She pushed me back on the floor and knelt between my legs. My black underwear was bulging from my stiff dick under it and had a huge spot of pre-cum on it.

Emma buried her nose in it, kissed it and licked my bulge through the cotton. But she didn't seem to want to waste much time. She clasped the elastic band and pulled it down, freeing my hard-on and giving my balls some much-needed air.

I suddenly became conscious of something I had not thought of until that moment. No, I am not small built and have what should be a fairly average sized cock at 6 or 7 inches. It is a bit curved to the left but then I was old enough to know that that was fairly normal. It was the dark purple colour, or call it black if you want. And here I was, with a white woman. Would she mind? Or would she be put off?

"That looks delicious," she said, as if reading my mind. She held my uncircumcised cock in her right hand and kissed the wet tip lightly. It was my turn to shudder. "My first uncircumcised and coloured penis," she seemed to tell herself, before she pulled the foreskin back and took the head in her small mouth.

I wanted to close my eyes and just lie back and enjoy. But I also wanted to look at a white woman suck my cock. I picked the latter. Emma slowly swallowed my cock and pulled back, stopping at the bulb, playing with it with her tongue, sucking on it, sending shivers up my spine at the sight of her pencil-thin lips wrapped around me.

Her left hand was busy playing with my balls before she moved her mouth lower and tongued them. I was groaning and holding her head in my hands. She was talented and was I glad. Emma then turned her attention to my thighs, licking, biting, kissing and nibbling before returning to my balls.

She played with them as she gently lifted my hips and sunk lower. She spread my hips and kissed my dark anus a couple of times. Then came her tongue probing and licking around. I was going wild. Very few women had licked me there and although I loved it, I rarely asked the reluctant ones to do it since I understood their reluctance.

But Emma, she was in love with it. And I loved her for it. But I also knew I needed something else. I needed to get inside her, feel the wetness and become one with her.

"Emma," I whispered.

"Yes honey."

"I want to fuck you sweetheart."

"Then what are you waiting for honey?"

I lifted myself up and gently pulled her up from between my legs. We hugged and kissed again before I took off my T-shirt and both of us didn't have a stitch on us.

I carried Emma in my arms and laid her on the large bed. We kissed and nibbled at each other's lips, necks, earlobes, shoulder blades and breasts. I put a finger between her pussy and found she was still dripping.

She was tugging at my cock and tickling my balls.

I got on top of Emma and she folded her knees and spread her thighs. I kissed her on the lips as she held my cock and guided it to the opening of her pussy. I pushed slowly and went in like a dream.

"Oh god, that feels so good," both of us said together, and we smiled at the coincidence. I held her in my arms and moved slowly in the good old missionary position.

"Oh Dhruv, your cock seems like it's made for my pussy. George has such a huge boner, he can never get it in fully and fucking him always comes with some pain," she said as I moved in and out of her.

I didn't want to think of her husband or his dick, so I let it pass without comment. I wanted to do something else. I wanted to see my dark cock fuck that pink little pussy. I slowly pulled out of her and got off, switched on all the lights in the room and got back on the bed.

Emma was still lying on her back, wondering what I was up to. I sat between her legs and entered her again while her legs curved around my waist. There it was, I could see myself push in and pull out of this beautiful white woman's pussy. And it was a great sight.

"Emma, do you know what I can see?"

"I know, and I want to see it too but in this position I can't."

"Ok, hang on, let's move closer to the mirror on the closet door and change positions," I said.

So I pulled out and we moved to the edge of the bed near the mirror. I lay down and Emma climbed on top in the cowgirl position, facing away from me and looking at the mirror. She inserted me into her and started riding me. Both of us could see our colourful union clearly in the mirror. More than the sensations between our legs, the sight in the mirror seemed to be overtaking us.

I asked her to stop for a moment, turn around and ride me while facing me. She obediently followed my directions. I held her marvelous arse as she plunged up and down and our mouths were again one.

I brought the middle finger of my right hand to my mouth, wet it with my tongue and took it back to Emma's anus. I pressed her asshole lightly, flicked it and slowly probed it.

"Oh no, please, that will push me over the edge...." Emma was saying, but my finger wasn't listening. It was already snaking its way inside and Emma began to buck harder and moan, like she was almost about to break down and cry.

I tried matching her pace by finger-fucking her asshole faster and that only made it worse for her.

Emma alternated between groaning and whimpering, closing her eyes tightly and forcing that orgasm to hit her without any delay. Looking at the delirious expression, I couldn't hold back, although I was hoping to be able to last longer. I let go and came groaning loudly, just as her orgasm was subsiding.

Emma stopped moving and collapsed on me. My semen had begun to trickle out of her pussy, which still had my rapidly shrinking cock inside. I slowly pulled out of her and turned around after putting her down on her side. I snuck between her thighs and put my mouth on her pussy, pushing my tongue in and licking her cunt clean of all the juices we had produced.

Emma moaned again and responded by taking my flaccid cock in her mouth and sucking it clean. We lay there in that classical 69 position for god knows how long before I turned back and took her in my arms.

We kissed what must have been the most passionate kiss of the day. Tasting each other in our mouths. I thought I noticed a tear in Emma's eyes, and kissed it.

"Are you all right Emma," I asked.

"Never felt better Dhruv. Never felt better. Just that am completely overwhelmed, it was intense, just too good."

"Don't thank me honey. I had as much fun as you did if not more," I said as I hugged her and planted a kiss on her lips. This time, I was not lying!