Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Interracial, White Male, Oriental Female, Safe Sex,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Lucy has never thought of sleeping in the bath as dangerous...until her apartment catches on fire. When a handsome fireman bursts through the door, she wakes up with a start to discover that it's her ex, Brian - it's not the first time he's seen her in the nude, and she soon discovers that it won't be the last...
I like to fall asleep in the bath.
It's sort of my one and only vice - I don't smoke, I rarely rarely drink, and I've never enjoyed the flavour of coffee. My mother is a doctor, so I was warned about the perils of drugs from a young age, and I guess it stuck - so my vice? Falling asleep in the bath.
Waking up in the bath - not so great. The water's cold, you feel a bit silly, and if you've sunk under the water, you wake up spluttering and panicked.
But there's something about drifting off, surrounded by steaming water, relaxed, every part of your body tingling, that feeling being warmly, safely held by the water ... I never thought of it as a dangerous habit...
... until the night my apartment caught on fire.
Ever since her own divorce, my mother has been obsessed with finding me a man. I must hold some kind of world record for unsuccessful first dates - it's like the first thing that she asks everyone she meets is whether they're single, or have an appropriately-aged son who is.
I'd ask her to stop, but I know exactly where that would lead. I guess I should be lucky that she's not like her parents, and actually sets me up with non-Asian men. I guess after her marriage to the perfect-on-paper Asian man failed, she realised that there were more important things to look for. (although considering some of the guys I've been out with, I sometimes feel like her only requirement is "a pulse.")
It's mom's fault that I go on so many dates, but it's definitely my fault that they're unsuccessful. I don't know if there's a gene that gives you the ability to talk to the other sex, but if it exists, I was definitely born without it. No joke, I've told a man before that "I like trees", and that "the sky is nice." It'd be funny, if it weren't so desperately sad.
Part of it's the all-girl school I grew up in, part of it's my reputation as the geeky Asian chick, but yeah, mostly it's just that I don't have that part of the brain that lets you talk to people who have penises.
So when you consider how many guys I've been out with, I guess it's not all that surprising that the fireman who woke me up by chopping his way through my bathroom door was an ex.
Maybe "ex" is a strong term for someone you've only been on one date with, but when I saw him standing there, looking annoyingly great in his uniform, I wasn't exactly in the mood to split hairs.
"Brian!" I cried, trying futilely to cover my naked body up, acutely aware that he'd seen it all before.
"Lucy!?" he responded, before remembering the, y'know, fire, and crossing the room to scoop me up.
"Put me down!" I cried, irritated that even through the huge rubber gloves that he wore, his touch had the power to excite me. "What are you doing here!?"
He didn't say anything as he carried me through my lounge-room, and my eyes answered the questions for me.
I don't normally remember much in the first few minutes after I've woken up, but I remember everything from that evening in detail. The flames, devouring the tiny kitchen attached to my tiny lounge room. The popping sound of books caught on fire, the smoke pouring out of my TV. The feeling of overwhelming heat on every inch of my exposed skin, and the reassuring strength that Brian gave, simply by holding me.
I've no idea how my mother had found Brian, all those months ago, but we'd been about half an hour into the date when I was surprised to find that I was enjoying myself.
One of my typical dates can be mapped by the feeling in the room - it'll normally go nervous, awkward, bemused, and then bored. And then bored, and then bored. I think my record is a full eight minutes after meeting the guy before saying something that turns him off for good, and after that it becomes the world's least interesting waiting game.
So far only one guy has made an excuse to leave before the main meal's even arrived, and I have to admit, I was a little bit grateful to him for saving me from forty more minutes of awkward conversation. If only more men could be that honest ... although perhaps its for the best that they're not.
Brian and I had been standing in line at the restaurant I liked to take my dates ... they serve a great grilled fish, and I learned a long time ago that if I'm not having fun, I may as well be eating something that I like. I'd been thinking about how interesting we must look together - I'm short and slim, and he's over six foot. I was quite casually dressed, and he'd obviously gone to a bit more effort - at first I'd assumed he'd come straight from work, but when he mentioned he was a fireman, I realised the shirt and tie were for my benefit.
I was about to open my mouth and say something frightfully insightful like "What kind of fireman?" or "Have you ever had fish?" when I noticed he was smiling.
"I was just thinking..."
"What??" I pressed, worried that I'd already managed a faux pas without even opening my mouth.
If he hadn't still had half a grin on his face, I would have dropped it, but now I was dying to know.
"Fine," he said after another minute of badgering. "I was just thinking we must look ... well, I was wondering if anyone was assuming you were a mail-order bride."
I bristled at first, but his laugh was contagious, and I couldn't help but join in. The rest of the evening was like that - he'd make a borderline-offensive remark, and I'd find myself laughing along without even meaning to. I was so busy trying to work him out that I forgot to be awkward, and by the time the meal came along, I was so relaxed that I even made a joke or two of my own.
When the meal was over, he offered to give me a lift home, and my long-delayed embarrassing moment finally arrived.
"In your firetruck?" I asked, and immediately went bright red.
His laugh seemed to go on and on as I sat there silently, wishing that I'd been born with my mother's wit, or my father's ability to charm everyone he encountered. Finally he stopped, wiped a figurative tear away, and explained that no, he only drove that when he was on the way to a fire.
I'd wanted to go home and shoot myself, but when his (surprisingly small) car stopped outside my house, he'd leaned in for a kiss, and all other thoughts had fled my mind.
The entire evening I'd been aware of an electricity between us, but Brian had remained a perfect gentleman, and so I'd assumed it was one-sided. Perhaps he'd just been waiting until we could actually do something about it to make that initial move, because when he kissed me it became blatantly obvious that the connection was two-sided.
He kissed me, and all thoughts of going to bed alone that night disappeared.
Impossible though it may sound, my old apartment was smaller than my new one, and as soon as we opened the door we were falling over things.
"Sorry," I mumbled, but he just laughed once more and silenced me with a kiss. He'd picked me up in one smooth, elegant motion, causing a new awareness of his muscles and the difference between our sizes. He impressed me with his grace - a man with his frame shouldn't be able to move around my clutter so nimbly, I thought, and he managed to correctly guess which door led to my bedroom, nicely avoiding the awkwardness that would have resulted from a closet full of badly-packed knick-knacks falling onto us.
He even managed to avoid tripping over Richard, the worst guard-cat in the world. She loves strangers, and when I felt Brian lose his balance for a split second, I imaged the two of us falling and crushing poor Richard to death. Impressively, he managed to
My past lovers have tried to make me feel sexy, but I've always felt like a second choice. Brian's aggressive gaze made me feel like he could have any woman that he wanted ... and what he wanted me. I'd shivered nervously, expecting to see his smile return any second, to reveal that this was all an extended joke and that he was going to head home ... but his eyes never left mine, and he stood still, holding me next to my bed, each of us able to feel the other breathing.
Brian searched my face, looking for a confirmation, and after a long pause I gave it to him.
"I want this," I whispered, and that was all he needed.
His face broke into a smile, but not one of amusement - one of triumph. Faster than I would have thought possible, he unbuttoned his shirt, and I reached up to run my hand over his muscled chest. His face lowered again, but instead of kissing me, his mouth attached itself to my throat and caused my eyes to roll back in my head in pleasure.
Brian removed his mouth from my neck briefly, but before I could beg for more, he whispered in my ear.
"I'm going to fuck you," his low voice growled, and all I could do was in response.
"Please..." I moaned, and I could feel him grin, his smooth chin against my neck.
"I'm going to make you my personal Asian whore," he said, and one hand reached between my legs.
I don't know if it was the dirty words he was whispering to me, or the fact that he was so much more larger and more muscular than any partner I'd ever taken before, but when he touched between my parted legs, he found me more wet than I'd ever been before.
"I'm going to take you and make you mine," he said, and another whimpering "Please..." escaped my mouth.
As his muscular fingers slid easily inside of me, I found myself furiously thrusting, trying to force his hand deeper and deeper. I reached down and unbuttoned his pants, freeing his member. He heard me gasp as I wrapped my hand around it.
"I don't know what you're used to," he said, his deep tone resonating through his entire body, "but this is what a full-size American cock feels like."
I paused at that, but before I could say anything, his fingers curled around and hit the G-spot that I'd been so desperately trying to angle toward him, and my grip on his cock tightened. He was right; it was much larger than I was used to, and part of me was nervous that it would even fit within my tight frame.
Most of me, however, was turned on and eager to try anything.
"I'm going to fill this cunt of yours up," he said, his stream of talk as merciless as his fingers inside of me. "I can't wait to feel you around me, can't wait to cum inside of you, to feel you clench around me..."
His words tipped me over the edge, and my pussy tightened around his fingers as I climaxed. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through my body, and I collapsed backwards on the bed panting.
After giving me a few seconds to recover, Brian's sexual onslaught continued. He possessively ran his hands up and down my body; I undid my bra to give him better access, and within a few seconds his hands were on my tits, tweaking and groping.
Just as I started to wriggle out of my dress, he stopped me.
"I want to fuck you while you're still clothed," he said, and I smiled at the image of the huge, naked, muscular man having his way with a small Asian girl in a dress.
Wriggling my way down to his enormous erection, I was pleased to discover that it fit in my mouth - the head, at least. My cheeks bulged out as I tried to get as much of it inside me as I could, but I was less than halfway down when I had to stop, and instead focussed on stimulating his sensitive head with my tongue.
Wordless for the first time all evening, I looked up at Brian, his face contorted with pleasure.
"Stop," he said less than a minute later. "I've got to fuck you ... I have to."
Reaching over and grabbing a condom from his discarded jeans, he tore the packet open with his teeth, and his eyes kept steadily gazing into mine as he rolled it over his thick cock.
"Oh god, I need this..." he panted, and with one movement picked me up and lowered me onto him.
"Me too!" I cried as his head parted my lips. He was completely in control as he held me, but as if he could read my mind, never went any faster than my body could take.
The pleasure was exquisite as he slowly continued to penetrate me - it was as if I could feel every vein, every inch of his rod as it entered me. The combination of how slowly he was going and how turned I on meant that, to my surprise, I was able to take the entirety of his member inside my body, and for the first time since we'd entered my dark room, his mischievous grin reappeared.
"You ready to do this?" he asked, and I nodded, my wide eyes filled with arousal.
One of his hands went down to where our genitals met, and his thumb started running over my clit as he kissed me. I don't know whether it was the complete lack of control that I felt, or Brian's expertise, but when he lifted my entire body with his other hand, I felt myself on the brink of orgasm once more.
"I'm doing it," he hissed into my ear, as he repeatedly raised and lowered my willing body onto his hardness. "I'm fucking you. I'm fucking your little cunt."
"Yes!" I cried, his words tipping me over the edge. "Do it! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt! Fill me with your cock!"
My orgasm was fast and strong, and the feeling of my tightness pulsing around him pushed Brian to orgasm as well. He roared as he came, standing next to my bed, my legs wrapped around him, furiously lifting and lowering me over and over.
When we were done, he collapsed backwards in pleasure, causing my head to bump against his.
"Ow!" we simultaneously exclaimed, and then broke out into laughter. I removed my dress and curled up against him.
What a first date... I thought as I drifted off to sleep. Mom, I think you've found a keeper...
The next morning, I'd been woken up by Brian's phone ringing. As I said, the first few minutes after I wake up are always a blur, and the next thing I remember is him pulling on his shirt, and telling me he had to go.
A few minutes later he was out of my room, and out of my life. I hadn't seen him since then - I'd left a few messages, but when they were never returned, I gave up, and tried to move on.