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Short skirts, french knickers

Thursday, September 01, 2005


So did everyone have a nice day off to celebrate Merdeka? I had a great time sorting out a photo shoot for tomorrow while clearing the remains of a party off my floor. Celebrating independence indeed. The eve was great though. I did the patriotic thing and had a party to celebrate the 47, 48, 49 (???) years that we’ve been independent. I even wore my brand new RED miniskirt as a small tribute to the flag (all colours at once would have been too much). And I knew that Tom, the gym boy who fucks good, was coming over so it helped that the red skirt was also criminally short.

Anyway, it was all a crazy evening with close friends and extras that seemed to wander in by mistake and take enough of a liking to the drinks and my skirt (!) to stay. Best friend Fil was there with that girl again, but I soon found out it was only because he’s been dating about 5 girls all at once and didn’t want to bump into any of them in town. Charming. Other darling best friend Trisha turned up in gold thaipusam slippers and a dress so full of glitter I’m still picking fairy dust off my sofa. Her husband didn’t know she was over drinking vodka out of paper cups all night and laughing drunkenly at all the boys’ jokes; he thought she was at her mother’s, the devious nymph.

I don’t drink at my own parties – it’s too shaming to be whirling about drunk in your own living room and you need to think straight to stop ugly boys from falling between your sheets. Unfortunately, the lack of alcohol did make it a bit more difficult to bear all those smelly boys groping my bum while they slurred in my ear about the view from my balcony.

I eventually got away, and just as I was about to give up on the prospect of fun boys I spotted Tom, skulking about round the darkest corner of the living room.

“You made it!”

“Yah, of course. I’m proud to be Malaysian wat!,” he said pulling me close enough to slip his hand to just where my skirt ended. “Shit, that’s a short skirt.”

I whisked him off to the bedroom before anyone noticed (they didn’t) where his fingers promptly found their way under the skirt to the slippery dampness of satin panties.

“God, you are fucking horny, aren’t you? Only horny girls get this wet this quickly,” as he slid two fingers in, easy. After a few seconds of playing around inside me, he took them out, holding them up to my lips for me to suck on, which I did before pushing his hand away. I made him sit on the edge of the bed before sitting astride him, facing him and rubbing myself against the bulge in his pants as he kissed me desperately on my neck and tried to nibble my nipples, pressing through my top. I could feel him getting harder as I ground down against him, filling the triangle between my legs with the swell of his cock. I rocked hard against him, both of us still fully clothed but too eager to bother with undressing. He managed to get out my right breast though and flicked the nipple fast with his tongue as I continued to rub against him until I came and felt my pussy turn warm from more wetness.

“I really need to fuck you,” he said after even before I’d finished coming. He pushed me off his lap, turning me around in that controlling way only a gym instructor could manage and commanding I bend down to hold my ankles. I stepped out of my thong and bent down enough so that he would just see my ass from under the skirt.

He grabbed my hips with one hand, thrusting himself in deep and fast from behind as he held on to my hair with the other. I stepped my legs together to squeeze him tighter while reaching up to finger my own clit as he fucked me from behind. After I came again, short and spasming, he got rougher, even more desperate, breathing hard and loud as if to hurry on his orgasm.

I looked back over my shoulder at him and purred, “Take your time, baby, you got me all night.” It was just what was needed. It made him slow down but just as he did, I heard his breath catch, and he came shuddering, pressing himself hard against my ass.

I straightened up, fluffed my skirt and slipped back into my panties as he sat back on the bed, disheveled but sighing heavy and content. We had sex another 3 times that night, but just then midnight struck and the fireworks started so I pulled him out to watch, only to find poor Trisha was throwing up over the balcony.


  • nice party u hv KL again next week. drinks perhaps...?

    By Blogger chef4u2play, at 10:20 PM  

  • oh i in heaven's blog - Max

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 3:09 PM  

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