Brandon and Emi Round Two. Questionable Reading Tastes and Great Sex.

14:05pm Westwood LA.

Emi Watanabe’s Apartment

Ten minutes later Brandon found himself perched on the edge of Emi’s couch; the drops of water that clung to his skin now cooled by the air-conditioned atmosphere of the living room. He ran a hand through his damp hair, suddenly aware of his semi-clad state. He'd only managed to slip into his boxer shorts, leaving his torso bare and exposed. He felt ****, sitting there, his chest catching a cool breeze each time the air conditioning unit hummed to life.

Emi had floated back into the bedroom to tend to her hair, leaving Brandon caught in a moment of anxious introspection. Her sex-play in the shower had been invigorating, even confidence-boosting, but now he was second-guessing himself.

His mind was still in a daze from their steamy encounter in the shower, any hint of post nut clarity overwhelmed by the surreal nature of the day.

"Brandon Smith…what the hell are you going to do with your boss, Emi Watanabe as a fuck toy?" he thought, the idea as overwhelming as it was exhilarating. His eyes cast around the room for something to distract him. The glossy sheen of various magazines fanned out on the coffee table caught his eye. Should he pick one up? Pretend to read and appear nonchalant? His mind pictured Emi, probably wrapping her long, dark hair in a towel, her thrown-back laughter still echoing in his ears, making his choice all the more difficult.

With hesitant fingers, he grabbed the top magazine and opened it at a random page.

He alternated between pretending to scan the articles and furtively glancing toward the hallway, waiting for her return. Did she expect him to take command and keep the romantic tension simmering? Or would she appreciate a laid-back, casual approach? Then again by the terms of their deal did it even matter what her take was?

Brandon fidgeted and brushed against something plastic. It was the television remote. Maybe some background noise would break the silence enveloping him. As he was about to press the power button, he halted. What channel would be appropriate? Would a sports channel make him seem too detached or the right level of masculine? Got a hand job, watch the game. That seemed appropriately Alpha. “Oh hell, Brandon,” he thought, “you barely watch sports.”

The click of the bedroom door jarred him from his thoughts, and Brandon swiftly placed the remote down as if it were a hot coal.

"Hey," Emi called out, now dressed in a silken robe, her hair up in a towel turban. She smiled, with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Brandon fumbled with the magazine, creasing a corner of the glossy cover. "Hey," he returned, the word coming out more like a squeak than a greeting.

Her laughter filled the room, warm and lilting, and Brandon felt a simultaneous flood of relief and unease. "Found any good articles?" she nodded toward the magazine in his hands.

"Yeah, just, some interesting stuff, in…" what was he reading? Elegant Japanese characters danced in front of him.

“Bijin-Hyakka,” Emi said grinning, “I didn’t realise you were a connoisseur of Japanese female adult cute fashion.” Brandon hastily threw the illegible magazine back onto the coffee table.

Emi settled next to him, the delicate scent of her bath products enveloping them both. "You don't have to try so hard, you know," she said softly, nudging his knee with her own.

"So.." Emi said, a playful twinkle in her eye, "are we going to sit in silence, or are you going to do unspeakable things to me? You were very eager to get me in your clutches over the phone. Negotiated me down to the minute."

Brandon paused, unsure of where to start. She was baiting him now.

“Too much of a come on?” she purred, pulling her legs up onto the couch so that her knees were tucked under her. She leant forward, fingers gliding over his chest, “I can be your coquettish girlfriend, or a disinterested free-use whore.” Brandon could feel his erection hard and eager while his balls felt like concrete, Emi’s words and demeanour stimulating him so soon after his previous orgasm.

Emi was right up next to him on the couch now, her breath hot and her tongue drawing a circle around his earhole, “or I can be a **** girl…” She slid gracefully onto the floor in front of him and let the silk robe fall about her shoulders revealing her breasts, “master…” she said submissively bowing her head slightly.

Any nerves Brandon had before were completely overwhelmed by lust. In that moment he didn’t need any, foreplay or roleplay or context. He just really needed to fuck this beautiful woman at his knees. He stood up, lifting Emi up as he did and took her in his arms. His lips found hers as his hands slipped around her bottom, His tongue plunged into her mouth as his thumbs gripped and squeezed her pert butt.

Brandon pulled away briefly so that he could see her reaction, she looked him dead in the eyes and smirked, “anything else master?” she asked.

"Bedroom?" he said simply, both a demand and a question.

She eagerly led him across the lounge and into her bedroom. He turned her around and kissed her again. Her own hands slipped his boxer-shorts over his raging erection so he was naked. He broke contact with her, "lose the towel," he demanded. Emi was loving Brandon's assertiveness borne of lust. The fact she was the object of his desire was a turn on in itself. Her towel found itself at her feet and her wet hair fell down about her shoulders. Her robe soon followed her towel and she was naked again.

Brandon pushed her down onto the bed and got on top of her. He started sucking on her breasts, pinching her nipples between his fingers. Emi wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her. "Don't be gentle with me master," she breathed.

Brandon grunted, pulling her legs off of him and parted them to reveal her smooth, shaven mound. His cock penetrated her and she moaned at the sensation of him finally filling her. He held still for a few moments to allow her body to adjust, then thrust into her, driving her head against the pillow with his rhythm. He couldn't believe how tight she was, how hot she felt around him, the almost electric charge of pleasure washing through him. His grip tightened on her thighs. The look on her face was of pure bliss and for a moment Brandon wondered if he should have just bred the wilful girl at the mall.

The thought of his sperm claiming her was too much and he was nearing his climax. His balls were pulsing. He withdrew and rammed back into her.

Emi was moaning louder, her hips thrusting upwards into his hard thrusts. "Come inside me," she gasped.

Brandon pulled out and rammed back into her hard, the **** propelling them further towards climax together. With one last push he released his cum deep inside of her.

Emi was gasping and moaning, the bedsheets soaked with sweat. She was overcome with emotion, her entire body tingling with afterglow. She felt warm, loved, protected, sexy. In truth so unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. Was this what it meant to be loved? A shy but horny boy laying next to her in the bed and taking her?

She smiled shyly up at him, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

"Well?" she asked softly.

"That was Wet n... Naughty?" he said.

"Shut up!" she said groaning at his dumb joke. She snuggled up next to him a deep drowsiness overtaking her, as she began to drift off, she murmured, "you keep this up Brandon Smith and maybe we will need to use one of those Breeding Passes after all."

Brandon's heart quickened as he gently stroked the sleeping Japanese girl in his arms. He wasn't sure whether Emi's last comment had been serious or being provocative. But he was going to enjoy the next week finding out.