I unzip your trousers and feel your cock responding to my touch... I want to get it out and suck you into my mouth... But I think the cab driver would crash... So I have to be contented with just playing with you like this... Finally we arrive at my house, the fair is exceedingly cheap, but I say nothing as I pay and slip out of the cab and walk away... leading you by the hand... You follow me up the stairs quietly, your confidence wavering slightly... but as we enter my room and you see my big double bed... any doubts that had been passing though your head were quickly wiped away as you think of what is to come... I turned to you as we reach the bed... looking for reassurance that this is what you want... I clearly didn't have to... you were right behind me looking at me as if you wanted to rip my cloths off... Your hands slide up under my top and push it over my head... You reach behind me and pull my hair-tie out so that my hair falls down over my shoulders... your hands reaching. “Aya,” mused John, “What a lovely name. Where does it originate from?” “It’s a Japanese name. My parents are from Japan.” I know I don’t look pure Japanese, so I explained: “Well my father is British but he studied in Japan for almost two decades.” John seemed delighted for some reason. “How interesting! So your parents met in Japan? Were you born there?” I shook my head. “No, my parents met in England and I was born there instead.” We continued a rather light chatter until John delved into the great topic of Asia, for which he held obvious fascination. I felt I had little to add to the conversation, unfortunately, because I had never been to China or basically any part of East Asia other than Japan and South Korea, and John had never been to Japan. By the time we reached the café, it seemed perfectly natural for us to buy drinks, sit down, and resume our conversation. I found myself leaning in, propped up on my elbows on the small table between us, as I listened to John’s quite.
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