She reacted immediately. “OH MY FUCKING CHRIST, HARRY, OOOHH FUCK, YES, GOD, YESSS!” as I moved out and then back in again, slowly pumping into her, my cock feeling gigantic in such a restricted place, trying desperately not to come immediately as her anal tube squeezed me mercilessly, my world concentrated in the sensations in my cock. Sai frigged herself as I pumped, her breath becoming rapid and shallow, eyes rolling up in her head, face and neck flushing as she approached orgasm, until she came with a loud whistling groan, back arching, her hands rubbing frantically at her clitoris, her pussy rippling and shuddering, making her rectum contract convulsively around me, clamping me in place. I lost all control, coming so hard I nearly passed out, the spunk racing out of me to spray her insides, setting her off on another series of rippling convulsions, Sai sobbing and groaning as she climaxed again, her rectum squeezing my already over-stimulated cock, something down inside my midriff clenching with the force of my ejaculation as I pumped again and again.
At last I stopped, my orgasm run its course, my softening cock finally slipping out of her tight little arsehole, dropping to my elbows to take my weight as Sai dropped her legs down to the bed, eyes closed and breathing rapidly as her own orgasm died away slowly.
I dropped down beside her on the bed, trying to breathe as my heart raced, she gently touching my face and torso, stroking me, trying to calm my breathing. At last my breathing slowed and my heart stopped hammering so violently, and I was able to turn and stroke her back, pulling her close to hug her to me.
“Thank you, Princess, that was amazing!” I smiled. She grinned back. “Don’t you remember I told you I had a third cherry? Well, that was it, Harry. Now you’ve sodomized me so thoroughly, you’ve got to marry me, brother or not!”
I laughed out loud at her, and she smiled happily, reaching up to kiss me gently. “I told you that first night about my cherry because I thought you’d do something about it; you certainly took your fucking time to take the hint! Four weeks, Harry, four weeks! If I hadn’t been practicing for months for this I would have been reluctant to let you anywhere near there, but I’ve been gagging for you to get this done. At-fucking-last!”
“Practicing?” I asked her, and she grinned that cheeky grin. “Yes Harry, practicing. One of the girls gave me a… thing, a sex toy, you know, and I’ve been using it to get used to the feeling of being plugged-up down there, so I could trap you into it. It feels amazing, but take note; my arse is not an alternate playground, got it? High Days and Holidays only, special occasions, not a nice end to the day’s festivities for you. Right? Unless I change my mind, of course….!”
“Right!” I agreed, happy to have sampled it for now, confident I could change her mind in due course.
Sai jumped off the bed. “I’m having a hot soak, my bum feels rubbed-raw right now, I need to sit in a hot bath for a while, when I come out you’re taking me to dinner, we’ll split it, so think about a nice place to take your fiancee!” she grinned, and disappeared into the bathroom.
We went to dinner on the Edgware Road, to a nice Mongolian place I knew, and as Sai’s a committed carnivore like me, she stoked-up on barbecued beef and lamb, drinking ice-cold Kirin Ichiban, and relaxing, joking with the waiting staff, generally making herself agreeable, chatting away in Cantonese with them when she discovered that most of them could speak it, having a right old time. When we left, the manager pressed a box of sweet bean cakes into her hand, as ‘a present for Miss Sai-Sai’, me saying ‘Toh Sieh’ the only Cantonese I know and getting a pitying smile in return.
Sai Fong was in a happy and relaxed mood when we got home, ready to turf all my stuff out of the only wardrobe and install all her stuff. I saw no point in complaining, she only heard what she wanted to, all else was noise, easily tuned-out. I did ask her why she felt obliged to bring half of all she possessed for a one-week stay, and got that look; the one that says ‘Harry, I am doing this for a reason, don’t try and figure it out, because you won’t. Cup of tea, please’, so I just shelved it, packing all of my stuff into one corner of a dresser drawer she had all the others. However, I wasn’t going to start a war over closet space, the important thing was that she was here, and as I pointed out to her, once she left again, I had an unlimited amount of her underwear left behind to wank into until she came back. She accused me of various perversions, getting more eloquent, until I reminded her I wasn’t the one who spent half the summer with a sex-toy hammered up their arse on the off-chance of getting tail-gunned.
We were going to have great fun this week!
The next few days were a blur, memorable only for the fact that I had my beloved Princess constantly with me. I had to work, so Sai would get up early (although how she managed that I don’t know; she certainly never learned how when she lived at home), make me a quick breakfast as I showered, hand me my stuff as I dressed, and kiss me out the door, just like any married couple. I mentioned this to her once, and she had also noted how we complemented each other, that whatever we did for each other, it felt right; it was like we inhabited a place inside each others’ head.
While I was out, she really did trip around London, collecting leaflets and giveaways from the various galleries, museums and collections, of which there are literally hundreds in central London alone. I came home one evening to find her almost in tears after visiting Dulwich Gallery, part of the Dulwich College Boy’s School, and stuffed to the gills with paintings by Hogarth, Gainsborough, Rembrandt, Landseer, Constable, Poussin, De Hooch and other Dutch masters, sensory overload setting in as she tried to cope with the sheer volume of art available to her. I think it was then she realised what a task she’d set herself, studying Fine Arts at Slade, and I gained a new perspective on what it meant to study art; I’d always privately considered art students to be slackers, doing degrees that guaranteed them a place in the unemployment statistics, but now I realised how deeply Sai Fong felt about her chosen field, and understood the commitment and emotional connection she felt. I had been to Dulwich College many times; I had played rugby against them all through school, but had never bothered to take a walk into their gallery; now I promised I would, just to see for myself what had affected Sai so deeply.
The whole week was just a delight, coming home to her was delicious, seeing my girl waiting for me, bursting to tell me the news of the day, or just glad to see me, hugging me as I came in, domestic bliss. Letting her go again was going to be hell; the longer she stayed with me, the deeper our feelings for each other grew, and the more risk of giving ourselves away. I tried not to think about her going away again, even for just a few weeks, just enjoyed her time with me before she had to leave.