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Asian Babe

This is the continuation of the story about my weekend with Alesha, as detailed in “The Pleasure Principle — Part 1”

(It helps to read part 1, but isn’t essential).

*

Following her into her bedroom, I decided to be a little more forceful. I told her to insert the Ben-Wa balls again. Flicking through her wardrobe whilst she retrieved, washed and inserted the toys, I laid out a loose white cheesecloth blouse (no bra) and another lightweight sarong. Sandals completed the outfit. Thankfully, she appeared happy with it too, especially as I allowed her to keep her panties on.

Arriving at the shopping centre, we walked around until I spotted the place I’d called. We walked into the Hillcrest Beauty Salon and I asked for Beccy, who answered the page and came to the counter. After introducing myself, and then Alesha, now curious and looking a little apprehensive, we were ushered to a room towards the rear of the salon. There was a bottle of Freixnet champagne sitting in an ice-bucket with three glasses set out. I’d introduced Alesha to this champagne a year before and she loved it.

It was time to spring the surprise on Alesha. Beccy shut the door, flipping the lock as well.

“I’m shouting you a trim,” I said to Alesha, as Beccy filled the glasses and passed them out. “Actually, it’s more than a trim. I’d like you to have a Brazilian!”

She sort of looked at me, not quite comprehending my meaning, “Who’s a brazilian?”

Beccy took over at this stage, grabbing an “industry” beauty magazine, flipped over a few pages and passed the magazine to Alesha.

“This is a Brazilian! It’s the removal of all hair from your buttocks, labia and the whole pubic area. It’s becoming more and more popular, especially overseas. Sometimes people like to leave a little ‘landing strip’ of hair in the triangle area. A brazilian wax truly enhances any sexual experience and heightens the sensations. Oh, and by the way, we’re one of just three fully accredited salons in the city. We only use a mixture of sterile beeswax and tall oil. We can also provide some local anaesthetic if you like, as some women find it a little painful the first time. Of course, that’s in addition to the champagne.”

“Do you get repeat business for these, or are they a one-off thing?” queried Alesha, clearly still not sure.

I started to rise, preparing to leave, but Beccy glanced over at me and said, “You’re fine, please stay,” before turning back to Alesha and saying, “Lots of people love them. I have one. Would you like to see it?”

Alesha’s wide eyes darted from Beccy to me and back to Beccy, before saying, “Okay.”

Beccy then reached under her loose ankle length skirt and slipped off her panties, kicking them against the wall. She then lifted her skirt, almost demurely, and showed us that she was, indeed, as naked down there as the day she was born. Sitting on her stool, she then leaned back and showed the total absence of hair right to the back. It looked unbelievable and discussing it had definitely aroused her a bit, as the dampness was obvious to both Alesha and me.

“So, whaddya think?” said Beccy, back to business. “Are you ready? It really is fantastic!”

Looking at me, Alesha said breathily, “OK…, but you have to stay right here!”

“Now, Alesha, you’ll need to remove your skirt and undies. I can give you a paper g-string if you’d like, but it basically is a waste of time, if you ask me. Especially now!”

Alesha followed her instructions, and was a little surprised when Beccy slid stirrups into the relevant slots on the reclining chair, placing Al’s legs in each one. Now totally exposed to both Beccy and I, Alesha gulped her third glass of wine and tried to relax, as Beccy sprayed on some local numbing solution.

“You really do have a stunning set of lips,” as she started examining her best approach to the task ahead of her. “They’ll look even better soon.” Beccy then noticed the string and said, “That’s not …?”

“Yes, they are. Do they have to come out?” I asked.

Screwing her face up a little, Beccy thought and then, “No, I’ll just flip the string. It looks like you guys have already had some fun today!”

Alesha turned bright red, whilst I just chuckled softly. After all, I was 1100 kilometres from home. Who was going to know what happened?

Another glass of wine later and Alesha was wearing a happy buzz, her groin now totally numb. She closed her eyes and almost fell asleep as Beccy started. Wax, rip, wax, rip, wax, rip, on and on she went. Alesha was feeling no pain, just the occasional jerk as some of the coarser hairs were removed. Twenty minutes later it was all done. Beccy picked up a mirror and showed Alesha areas of her body she hadn’t seen hairless for years.

“We need to apply lots of moisturiser now. Some people prefer to do it themselves, but I’m happy to do it if you’d like?” she said. “Unless you…” was directly at me.

“No, I’m quite happy to watch,” said the almanbahis adresi dirty old man.

Beccy slowly squirted lotion onto her fingers and applied them gently to the mound, where she’d left a small, heart shaped patch of hair. Spreading the lotion liberally around between her legs, she once again grasped the swollen left labia, then the right, ensuring a thick even coating. Alesha was positively dripping now, torn between the feelings being brought on by another woman and embarrassment.

Scooting down further in the chair again, at the invitation of Beccy, more lotion was applied from the perineum over the rosebud and to the top of the rear cleavage, with Beccy taking plenty of time and effort over the cheeks. Alesha was unsuccessfully trying to stop her hips from their involuntary movements.

“I need to take a leak,” as I excused myself and opened the door.

“We’re almost done,” said Beccy, still concentrating on the task at hand.

I’m sure they both thought I was off to fix up my firming erection, but I really did need to pee. I also thought the girls needed a little “alone time,” based on my earlier telephone conversation with Beccy.

It was just past closing time and there were no other customers. After I finished my leak, I returned to the waiting area at the front of the shop, rather than to the room again and interrupting them. The only other staff member was awaiting Beccy’s exit from the room. As Beccy walked out, the other girl begged off, rushing to get ready for her own night out.

“She just tidying up and having a pee” Beccy said of Alesha as I passed over my credit card, providing a sizeable cash tip as well. I could smell Alesha all over Beccy’s face, but made no comment. I was pretty sure I knew the extra special treatment Alesha had received when I left the room.

Alesha came to the counter and accepted the proffered business card from Beccy with a warm embrace. As we walked outside, Beccy bolted the door behind us and walked towards the back of the salon.

“Here you are. I don’t need them tonight!” said Alesha as she handed me her damp undies.

“I wish I had a shorter skirt on. The sensation’s fucking awesome!”

We walked through the shopping centre and I led her into the disabled toilet.

“Why not double the sarong to make it shorter?” I suggested. Undoing the waist, she removed the sarong totally, displaying her hairless lips, with the string more noticeable now. Doubling the sarong, she managed to fold it over, so it now sat right at knee level.

“Now it looks puffy!” she exclaimed disappointedly. Holding my hands out, she removed the sarong once more and passed it to me. Mentally estimating where halfway was, she gasped as I ripped the sarong right through. Wrapping it back around her waist, we now found it sat over four inches above her knees. So much for my measurements (but in a good way).

Folding the excess material, she was placing it in her handbag when her arm passed underneath the automatic sensor for the hand blow dryer. The immediate affect of this was to cause her modified skirt to billow dramatically, nearly up to the top of her thighs.

“Geeez, I’m gonna have to be careful!” she stated as we grinned at each other and started the window shopping thing. At this time of the afternoon, although busy in the food court and cinema areas, most of the other customers had left the centre. Not a lot of passing foot traffic at our end.

Ten uneventful minutes later we decided to return home and glanced around to get our bearings in relation to the car. We needed to ride two escalators. Stepping aside to allow her to walk on, I then waited until a dozen steps had passed, then strode aboard, looking straight up at Alesha.

It was a fairly steep and long escalator, the type popular in refurbished older shopping centres, easily identified by the over ten foot ceilings in all shops. Anyway, my view was spectacular. Getting a free upskirt and seeing nothing but skin was a huge turn-on. Glancing around, she realised what I was doing and tried to pull in the material a little.

Reaching the top, she moved away from the exit, waited for me and then punched my arm, calling me a perve.

We made our way slowly towards the next escalator, ostensibly looking in windows and chatting about fashion, but really waiting until I saw some “potentials,” people who would be just the right distance behind us on the escalator. A few other car-bound shoppers walked past, and I let them go. Inside the nearby Playstation shop, I noticed a group of eight guys, probably aged between 17 and 23, wandering out the door and heading our way.

Alesha hadn’t spotted them.

Seizing the opportunity, I guided her with my arm, which I’d placed around her waist, “forcing” her to mirror me. She hadn’t realised my Machiavellian motives until we were on the escalator and she saw this group stepping aboard our escalator some way behind us. She started to squirm, but I held almanbahis adres her tight. She looked into my eyes and called me a bastard. To ensure they had the best view possible, I surreptitiously reached my fingers around and grazed her right boob. My knowledge of female reactions to some things was proved correct as she basically forgot about the guys behind us, and leaned forward a little to move my hand away from her breast, the most obvious and immediate “threat” to her. The effect was to raise the back of her skirt and, basically, make everything more obvious.

I said, “You really don’t mind it that much, do you, Al?” Glancing around casually, I noticed all the guys had gone quiet and were staring directly up the escalator, obviously enjoying the view and being thankful it was a fairly long ride. With another twenty feet to travel, I slipped my hand down over her butt and lifted the hem of the skirt to her waist, dropping it just as we stepped off and walked straight into the darkish carpark.

“Fucking bastard!” she said, half playfully whilst hurrying towards the carpark. The boys were gathered at the top of the escalator, talking amongst themselves. As the automatic door into the carpark slid closed I caught the eye of one of them as he grinned and gave me a thumbs-up.

Locating the car and with the keys I’d taken from her, I opened the door to her car and stepped back, allowing her to sit in the driver’s seat.

“You didn’t really mean that,” I said quickly reaching under the skirt and feeling the moisture running down her legs. “Would you like to do some more flashing?”

“No, yes, no, maybe,” she stammered. “You’ve got me so fucking horny, I can’t even think straight. And that Beccy. Fuck! That girl can use her mouth! Did you notice she had her tongue pierced. Let me tell you…” she continued. “My whole fucking insides!”

I shut her door, walked around and climbed in my side. She was sitting there, hands on the wheel, staring into space, trying to make sense of it all.

Reaching over, I placed my hand directly over her moist and hairless mound again, just feeling the heat emanating from her. Slowly clenching and unclenching my palm sent little shivers through her. She relaxed back into the seat, closing her eyes. I continued to massage her lips, applying a little pressure to the area near her clit. Her hips slowly gyrated as she enjoyed the feeling. This was the masturbatory equivalent of the “slow fuck!” Nice and slow, slow and nice. Gentle pressure maintained. No acceleration. No additional pressure on the clitoral area. A little tug on the string every 20 seconds to jiggle the balls inside.

She really relaxed and enjoyed my attention. In my peripheral vision I noticed someone else enjoying it as well. It was the kid that had shown his appreciation of the show earlier. He was now looking through the passenger window, getting an outstanding view of Alesha’s nether regions. I could tell he was excited as he had his hand down the waistband of his trackpants, massaging himself to a fairly impressive erection, where just the tip was peeking out the top.

I kept up my motions, pace, etc and then said to Alesha in a soft voice, “Is there anything else you’d like me to do now?”

“No, babe, just keep it up. I’m really going to enjoy this one. I don’t ever remember getting this close, this gently,” as she rocked back and forth with little gasps.

“OK, Al!” torn as to whether to tell her she had an additional admirer. “You know how hot you look at the moment, don’t you?”

“Ummm! Don’t care! I’m just loving the moment.”

Making the decision, I gently increased the pressure and tempo, then said, “You really do look fucking hot, babe!” My experience over the last day had told me she was near the edge.

“Stay relaxed and we’ll get there soon.” I kept up my momentum, with her hips now moving gently side to side, as if she was trying to absorb all the feelings. She reached her hands up to rub over the material of her top, pressing her hands hard against her chest. She nipples were poking through like little bullets. Using my other hand I reached around and grazed my fingers over her lower back, making my way down to her recently moisturised cheeks, eliciting a few extra groans.

Through the material wasn’t enough, so she slipped her hands under her top to have direct skin to skin contact, of course bringing the erect nipples and puckered pink areolae into view. She was far more aggressive with her boobs than I would have been, mashing them and pulling the nipples out over an inch from where they normally sat.

My continual murmur of soft, quiet encouraging words, “That’s it baby! Just relax. Enjoy and imagine!” was working perfectly for her.

In the same voice I then said, “I think I need to tell you something.”

“Whaaaat?” came back breathily as she concentrated on the feelings coursing through her.

“I want you to stay still, but one of the guys who saw you on the escalators almanbahis adresi is now watching you enjoy yourself! Now, don’t move! He can’t see your eyes, so if you’d like to look, then glance out my window.”

I knew I had her, as she didn’t move, but slowly opened her eyes to see the guy standing there, peering in the windscreen. He’d now pushed his pants down and had his 7″ in his hand, giving it a real workout.

“Fuck me, what have you done to me?” she said, without breaking rhythm. “Here I am in a carpark, getting felt up with my skirt around my waist, flashing my hairless cunt and tits to a guy young enough to be my son! And, who’s wanking himself watching me!”

It was time. I started moving my hand faster and faster, and put more pressure on her lips. Her legs fell apart even more, as she thrust her hips up and down, revelling in the pleasure.

Grunting and groaning, she started cumming heavily, her hips bucking up and down, her hand moving down to join mine, but running more quickly, then finally pulling the Ben-wa balls out of her pussy. Collapsing on the seat, she looked directly into the eyes of our voyeur, who’d just spurted all over the car. Smiling for a few seconds, she then waved at him, straightened herself and started the car for our trip home.

We didn’t say a word to each other for the whole journey back to her place. I think both of us were content with our thoughts, or trying to rationalise what had happened during the afternoon. I also think Alesha was a little drained.

My thought were confirmed when she announced that she needed a kip. She decided to have a quick shower first, alone, half towel dried herself and staggered into her bedroom and collapsed, probably asleep as her head hit the pillow.

I scanned the TV, found nothing and decided to take my shower as well. Cleaning and shaving myself, I realised the excitement had left me with a couple of small stains, as well as a hardon which was only just receding, and definitely not relieved. I dozed.

Waking in the spare room in the dark, I scrabbled to find the light and then noticed it was eight thirty. Wrapping the towel around me again, (note: the eternal optimist), I opened the door to her bedroom and saw Alesha, still asleep. She was on her back, naked, arms and legs outstretched.

Was she resting and airing or was she inviting attention? That was my dilemma. Part of me hoped it was the second; the part already trying to undo my towel, or at least pointing the direction I needed to go. She hadn’t stirred at all and was in a deep sleep.

I turned around and went back to my room. (A depressing thought, eh?). Not really, I had to retrieve a small bottle purchased earlier in the day, whilst Al was having her balls fitted.

I’d turned on a couple of other lights throughout the house, so there was enough to see inside her room. The bright moonlight streaming through her drape-free window also helped. Anyway, I gingerly clambered onto the bed, looking in vain for any signs of stirring and positioned myself between her legs, looking once again at her freshly waxed pleasure zone.

Opening the bottle, I poured several drops onto my cupped hand and closed the bottle, placing it on the bed. Rubbing the lotion to wet both hands, I then let the excess run of the end of my fingers and into her little heart shaped patch of remaining pubic hair. It continued its journey and ran down between her thighs.

I placed my open palms on her inner thighs and ever so slowly brought them closer together, not yet touching her labia — just the now smooth skin next to it. Moving my head forward I gently blew on the areas I just touched. Her hips moved a little, but she remained asleep.

Pouring a little more lotion into my hand I drizzled it over her labia. Ever so gently I spread it around. I blew on the area again. Once more her hips responded without her rousing, although this time, there were several little humping motions, almost like she was having a dream. I figured the lotion was now at its most potent and figured it might be time to move in.

(What was the lotion, you ask? Well, it’s called Warming Massage Oil or Flavoured Motion Lotion. It comes in over 30 different flavours, is edible and it warms when applied and rubbed in. When you blow on it, some minor chemical reaction causes it to get hot. We’re not talking about burning, just a really warm sensation. This was my other purchase at the Sex shop.)

Knowing she was going to wake soon anyway, I lightly rubbed my oiled hands over her whole pubic area. The hips started again. Still she didn’t wake. I must have been fitting into whatever dream she was having. Her fleshy lips were still a little swollen and puffy from her day’s exertions and I took one in either hand, spreading them apart gently whilst a few gentle blows on the whole area would have raised the temperature. I saw her hand move onto her chest, and then sleepily palming her breast. The nipple was just starting to firm.

I leaned in and flattened my tongue, then licked the whole length of her lips. Rousing from her deep sleep, her legs came together, as she pushed her hips into my face, and swore at me again.

“What the fuck!”

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