Sex, love, commitment, Pailyn's story. Sex, love and commitment
A true story; a love story.
Pailyn entered the tiny room for the first time in the company of a man. She had seen the rooms before, but this was her first night using them as a prostitute.
She had turned thirteen nearly three months earlier and her menstrual periods had come unexpected, intruding awkwardly and frightfully in her childhood.
It was embarrassing, painful, dirty and alarmingly confusing.
Without her mother to help her, and her father, a drunk, malevolent, cruel man, her older sister gone to explore the world and her brother, a childish fifteen year old boy, she was left alone with her fears, to face her fast changing life.
Her worthless father had waited for the right time, when she had begun transforming from a child into a young woman to sell her to the House of Pleasures, a Bangkok business that provided to the needs of horny foreigners, imbecilic drunken Thai men and corrupt politicians, cheaply.
Selling one’s virgin child girl was easy in Thailand.
The buyer pays, the seller sign custody release forms, bribe the right corrupt official and voila, an innocent, unaware girl belongs to someone else.
Such establishments’ survival and proliferation depended on government’s corruption.
Like in most countries, corruption runs by hierarchy, and like in any hierarchy, people tend to rise to their level of incompetence.
In that city, politicians were bribed with money and sex, mostly sex, but the lowest ranked, cheap and sleazy, didn’t adhere to moral or social rules and were simply and openly child molesters and most of them got busted; but released shortly after.
Higher political figures patronized the place from time to time, and they too, used the youngest girls available, for free, but kept their mouths shut.
Pailyn’s mother had died nearly a year before, after a long life of daily beatings by her drunken father, which had no use for a small, fragile girl unable to work at the farm while beat his wife to pieces for the only reason that he could.
Pailyn had thought then, that her father had killed her mother by pushing her down the stairs, but everybody ignored her pleas and mom’s death was ruled accidental.
Pailyn was an eye catching girl with shinny and smooth dark brown skin, dark brown almond shaped eyes, long black silky hair that framed a strong square jaw and high cheek bones, and she was simply beautiful, while small for her age.
Her father had sold her to prostitution, something fairly common in Southeast Asia, for twenty thousand Thai baht, or nearly five hundred dollars, a sum large enough to stay drunk for a few months on the cheap rice whiskey most people consumed there, even though the stuff was only good for killing brain cells and degreasing engine parts.
Amazingly, she had managed to stay untouched by the cruel, ignorant side of Thai culture.
Walking into the room holding hands with that foreigner was more frightening to Pailyn than if it had been a Thai man.
A Thai man would have given her at least a semblance of normality while the strangeness of a big white man in her small, brown world frightened her.
The stupid girls that lived here, with her, had told her dozens of horror stories about rape, violent and brutal sex and beatings while these drunken Thai men were having sex with them. They had laughed while they told her, that some men had even vomited on them while banging them incessantly with their pencil sized penises which wouldn‘t stay up.
It was all very funny to them, but it was terrifying to Pailyn, to whom sex was unknown.
After six days living in that glorified prison, the Mamasan, lady boss, had walked into the girls’ room, had taken her by the wrist and had dragged her to the foreigner’s table.
The Mamasan, told the stranger in a dreadful English, “thees gil fo yoo toonaee”, and to Pailyn, “he paid a lot of money for you, you fuck him good.”
Without another word, she left, leaving Pailyn confused, bewildered and terrified.
The foreigner had been sitting at a table out on a small balcony, and when Pailyn finally turned to face him, he stood up.
Her heart missed a beat and her breathing stopped for a moment when she saw the man’s size.
From her perspective he was a Giant worth the part in the story of Jack and the beanstalk; and she nearly panicked.
He understood her fear and tried to soothe her obvious discomfort.
He’d played football at UCLA, while in college in California and later played four years as middle linebacker with the LA Rams before they ran away from Anaheim to became the St. Louis Rams, until a knee injury ended his NFL career.
He had intimidated some large men during that time.
He walked around her and pulled the chair opposite his own away from the table, and speaking Thai learned from simple books and obsolete tapes, he told her to relax and sit down, when she did, he slid the chair back under her.
Pailyn had never had anybody be gallant or polite to her, and his melodious voice and thoughtful manners gradually calmed her down, but they also drew out her youthful curiosity, slowly conquering her bashfulness.
She had spent the last 2 hours sitting at the foreigner’s table drinking Pepsi, eating dried fish and trying to communicate.
He spoke very little Thai and she didn’t know English, but after a while, she understood that his name was John and he came from America, he was not married because his wife had died recently.
His short, black hair, white skin and pale blue eyes made him look very handsome in her young eyes. John had a clean shaven and strong face and his wide shoulders and muscular upper body made him look intimidating but his friendly smile made him more amenable. He was wearing blue jeans, black suede shoes and a US Army T-shirt. He had been polite, soft mannered but strong and attentive to her and had even asked if she wanted to spend the night with him.
She hadn’t known know what else to say other than yes.
After all, it was her job to sleep with men. That’s what the Mamasan had told her, without explaining what sleeping with them entitled. The Mamasan had assumed that if Pailyn was working in a whorehouse, she must be a whore, no need for details, but Pailyn had never been with a man before. She knew there was something else beyond sleeping, but in her first night and without knowledge of sexuality, she’d have improvise and find out by herself.
The rooms were small but comfortable. Pale yellow paint covered all the walls and ceiling, while the floor was covered with soft blue tile. The only window was the upper half of the entrance door.
There were a large double bed with two night tables and small lamps, a small refrigerator and a small color TV on top of a small two drawer dresser. The décor consisted in a mixture of items that were cheap at the time of purchase.
The bathroom was small, with a western style toilet, a sink and a bathtub with a shower behind a blue plastic curtain; all the walls and floor displayed the same blue tiles and the ceiling the same pale yellow paint.
There weren’t any chairs so John sat on the edge of the bed and turned on the TV while she stood by the door, unsure and hesitant.
Her indecision surprised John, he had expected her to know her job, but he politely took her hand and pulled her gently next to him.
They both sat there for a long while watching useless Thai TV programs to ease her wariness, drinking more Pepsi and munching on some chocolate bars that John had in his small bag.
Pailyn had never tasted chocolate before and found it sweet and tasty and after a few bites, she looked up curiously at John only to find him looking at her.
She was instantly embarrassed and involuntarily looked down to avoid John’s eyes.
Young women didn’t look straight into a man’s eyes in that country, mostly older men.
It was Thailand’s old school, where women rated lower than dogs.
John, slowly and deliberately put his left hand on the back of her head then softly and carefully, turned her head up, towards him. Her beautiful almond shaped brown eyes looked into his and blinked repeatedly trying to look elsewhere, but he kept her there. He looked down at her with a hint of a smile and nodded slightly as if to say that it was fine to look in his eyes.
Finally, she settled down and looked, deeply, and realized that he was really handsome and his eyes were sad and gentle. There was a concern in them that Pilyn couldn’t quite understand, but the feeling was soothing, comforting.
When his big, strong hand finally moved away from her head slowly and gently down her long, black silky hair, she didn’t look away. His eyes were like two round pools of crystal clear water. They were mesmerizing and hypnotic, but most of all, they were reassuring.
They seemed to offer the solace and security she had been missing all of her young life. There had never been a kind word or a soft touch for her. Never a loving, melodic voice telling her that everything was going to be all right. Even without understanding his words, she knew that John meant her no harm. She knew that the crude stories with which the stupid girls taunted and teased her, didn’t apply to that man.
As embarrassed and painfully frightened as she was by being here, alone with that strange looking foreigner, and without knowing what to do, she felt safe and comfortable as never before.
The night may bring unexpected and fearful experiences, but there, tonight she was safe. She looked in his eyes for a few seconds longer, then, finding some courage, she smiled and said, “John.”
Her voice sounded small, feeble and distant, and that angered her. She had lived around violence all of her short life, and almost always found a way out unscathed, and tonight, in that sanctuary, she was scared.
She’d have to do better and be stronger.
Down the inner depths of her immature mind Pailyn knew that she needed to please John, that night, whatever it took.
John didn’t think much about her voice or her fears and reacted at the sound of Pailyn calling out his name with an emotion she’d never witnessed before.
He put both hands around her tiny face, kissed her loudly on the forehead and said, “that was just beautiful,” and while holding her face close to his he whispered, “Pailyn.”
And they both laughed.
Pailyn’s beautiful brown face flushed at the unexpected reaction, and while she had never done anything like that before, it felt awfully good.
Still sitting at the foot of the bed, John bent down to take off his shoes, stood up, took off his US Army T-shirt in one fluid motion and threw it on the bed.
In the dim glow from the small TV set, Pailyn saw that his strong chest and wide shoulders were nothing but rippling muscle and his size, his white, shinny and smooth skin gave Pailyn a jolt of fear and the odd sensation she had started feeling only recently.
It had begun just a few months before, while she was bathing her fingers had lingered between her legs a little longer than usual, and became aware of that little button at the top of her vagina and the quiver it had sent through her small, naked body when she touched it.
Now that feeling was there again but this time she didn’t need the touch.
Fear of the unknown and an undefined sense of excitement fused freely in Pailyn’s mind, vague and unrestrained.
Since she started looking at him more openly, she found it difficult to look away, and seeing him without his shirt had awakened an indescribable desire to see and to know more.
She stood up on surprisingly shaky legs and faced John as if appraising him. She focused on his muscular chest, and then Pailyn’s eyes went to his right shoulder and pectoral, where three distinctive scars puckered like shapeless stars.
She raised a trembling hand allowing her finger to trace their contours while her somber face clearly showed her concern, curiosity and unveiled excitement.
John stood motionless allowing her inquisitiveness to take over freely and unrestrained.
She traced all three scars slowly with a tiny finger and gasped in astonishment when she saw that the top one, the one on his shoulder, had gone all the way through, and the resulting scar on his back was much bigger and uglier. She fearfully, tenderly, almost motherly touched his face while he looked down at her with a smile. John took her hand in his, brought it to his lips, and kissed it, softly, carefully and said; “Gulf war, honey, ugly thing war.”
Pailyn saw a dark cloud shadow his handsome face, but only for an instant, then, it disappeared.
That soft kiss, the first of her life, almost made her jump, but she kept control, dealing only with the quivering of her aroused body.
His voice was deep, low and melodic, friendly and calming.
After a life of cold hearted insensitivity, violence and anonymity, all that love and attention felt warm, enjoyable and delightfully overwhelming.
Still holding her hand, John bent down slowly and brought his lips to hers and kissed her softly and tenderly, lingering there for a few seconds.
After the initial shock of first contact, she begun to analyze the dizzy sensation that a man‘s touch stirred up in her.
The kiss felt warm and inviting, his lips felt moist, soft and sweet, and his closeness brought a fragrant smell to her nostrils, which she assumed was how a man smelled.
All those new sensations were making her want to jump around like a wild little girl. Her legs felt like wound up springs ready to uncoil and she found it almost irrepressible; she needed all her will power to hold still, and almost succeeded except for her hand, which was squeezing John’s fiercely, and suddenly realizing it, she let go, hastily, and a little too late.
He had noticed it and looked deep into her eyes, making her legs go from coiled springs to thin noodles ready to collapse.
Stoically she stood straight and returned his gaze while her heart pounded mercilessly in her chest.
Night had fallen unnoticed in Bangkok while Pailyn, still a child, struggled painfully hard to be a woman and John’s heart ached cruelly, wishing hopelessly to be a child.
The arousing, sensual games had been electrifying to Pailyn and agonizingly guilty to John, who knew that it was all wrong, very wrong.
In the deepest recesses of his wounded heart, lingered the unbearable pain of his recent loss.
His wife of 11 wonderful years had died, less than a year before, of a disease which came and took her before he could prepare himself. The nightmare ended fast, but after almost a year, the pain remained. This vacation, a present on his thirty-seventh birthday and this nighttime adventure had been someone else’s idea, paid by someone else’s money, his older brother Art, whom loved him dearly and wanted to ease John’s sorrow, but there and then, he found himself unable to come to his senses and stop the game before it was too late. Sometimes loneliness distorts perception and obscures reasoning.
Pailyn’s pleading eyes, natural beauty and youthful curiosity, combined with his unrelenting heartache were conspiring against his rapidly fading will power.
Holding Pailyn’s hand and kissing her softly on her young, sensuous full lips had made his heart pound hard enough to feel it through his entire body.
He thought it embarrassing that a thirty-seven year old man could feel like that for a young girl, whom he estimated, was no older than sixteen. Some Thai girls looked so young that it was extremely difficult to judge their age, but working at a whore house she must be old enough, he lied to himself.
He would find out some time later how wrong he was.
Pailyn stood on still unsteady legs looking up at John’s face while his mind raced with a thousand thoughts, and finally she believed that she saw in his beautiful blue eyes that the final decision had been made.
He slowly kissed her slender fingers one more time and finally let it go.
She watched him with growing fear as he slowly unbuckled his belt and lowered his jeans revealing strong muscular legs to match the rest of his powerful body, and something else, he wasn’t wearing anything under his pants.
She looked in growing panic as a large, bulging tube surrounded by thick, black hair hung menacing between his legs.
After taking off his pants, he went to work on her blouse, slowly unbuttoning the front, looking into her eyes, pulling the blouse from her jeans and pushing it back, away from her arms.
She didn’t help, or resist. The paralyzing fear, rapidly growing desire and newfound lust rampaged freely, like a scalpel slicing through her disorganized mind while ravaging her unprepared body. It fizzed and buzzed and made her teeth ache.
Before she knew it, she stood in front of him naked from the waist up. The bra had come off while her mind wandered the dizzy heights of unexplored worlds, exposing the small swell of her still not fully developed breasts.
John ran his hand over her long, black hair which cascaded over her small shoulders but stopped just an inch above her dark, captivating nipples.
His thumb barely touched her left nipple, bringing out an unexpected cry.
Startled, he recoiled slightly but Pailyn, realizing the immaturity of her blunder, took his hand, maybe a little to fast, and brought it back down on her breast.
The touch of his warm hand on her bare nipple shot electric shocks throughout her young body eliciting numerous gasps.
Unsure and afraid, she did what came to her naturally, and putting her arms around John’s naked waist, she pressed her face against his chest.
Unable to let go and overwhelmed by such a strong, mysterious and astonishingly uncomplicated feeling, she held hard and was rewarded when John’s arms closed tight around her and his face rested on top of her head.
Shivering with fear and trepidation, in this man’s arms, she knew that, that night, everything was going to be all right.
They stood holding each other for a long time, each of them easing the tensions of the spontaneous encounter while savoring the closeness and soothing warmth of each other’s bodies.
John had expected a night of cold, fast and unemotional sex with a hardened prostitute, but instead he found himself wondering if all that passion was real, and it surely felt so, then that girl didn’t belong there.
Pailyn’s mind wandered wildly through the horror stories that the stupid girls had told her and the warm, unpredicted and wonderfully romantic emotions she was feeling with that strange man so much older and different than herself.
Was that the way people lived in other countries?
She didn’t accurately know what other countries meant, she had heard other people talk about them and their different peoples, but had no clear concept of it. The only thing she knew was that if that was the way John lived, she would do anything in her power to make him happy.
Even only for one night, she felt compelled to repay him for his kindness and all the feelings he had shared with her with whatever little she knew. That night, she was willing to become what she would be for the rest of her life, whatever it was.
Slowly, John started to release her, and she complied, backing off, just a little.
John slowly kneeled down in front of her and started to unbutton her tight jeans, this time she helped.
When he took off her panties, she thought her embarrassment would show in her face, but instead, Pailyn saw John somewhat confused when he looked at her slender, beautifully formed body, but only for a second.
After running his hand over her bare back and down to her buttocks, he stood up and led her to the bathroom to shower together. He kept thinking how beautiful that small girl was and how well her tiny body curved.
He also wandered if he was drooling yet, he hoped not.
John made sure that the water was warm and comfortable before helping her into the bathtub, and following her.
The water was comforting and while it pelted her back, he lathered up a washcloth and started to bathe her.
Slowly, working in a soft, slow circular motion, he soaped her up chest, lingering ever so slightly on her small round breasts making her shiver, kissing her on the lips with soft, long-drawn-out pleasure.
His hands went down, between her legs, up her buttocks, stopping a few extra seconds when he reached her vagina, rubbing ever so softly against her recently found clitoris, making her tremble with pleasure, desire and awkward fear with every touch.
He was slow and intentional playing with her, leaving her wishing for more and giving her the touch in small doses, making her want to scream, jump, cry and kiss him all at once.
Her body was once more overcharged, electrified, recoiled and vibrating, and he could see that whatever he was doing was working, for both.
Finally opening her eyes, she saw him offering the cloth for her to soap him up, she also saw with growing concern, that his large rod had gotten much larger and stood erect, pointing at her menacing, and she wondered if that thing went where she thought it went; it was a sobering thought.
She lathered him, up and down his back, into the crack of his buttocks, between his legs and, from behind, her hands found the rod, and she touched it.
She came around to face him and put her small hands around the large member. It was hard as stone; she soaped it up and looked at it mesmerized. Her hands looked small holding the big tool but he looked pleased with her work, so she played some more.
They stayed for more than an hour in there, under the water, until their bodies felt wrinkled and waterlogged.
They toweled each other dry and walked back to the room holding hands.
The room was quiet, the TV set was on but the channel was off the air, it was two in the morning and outside it was
quiet and dark.
The patrons whom had wanted girls would be in their rooms and the rest had gone home.
They turned off the TV and in the dim light from the street neon signs filtering through the window drapes, they climbed into bed. The hum of the air conditioner concealed
Pailyn’s wildly beating heart. John laid down on his stomach, she on her back.
He ran his hand down her arm started to kiss her shoulder and her neck, down to her chest and when his lips engulfed her nipple she jumped in surprise, pleasure and mortification, hitting John’s jaw with her shoulder and making his teeth clatter.
He simply smiled while she wanted to melt into the woodwork, but his reassuring smile and gentle touch calmed her down. She’d have to relax and act mature or this wonderful man would think that she was nothing but a childish little girl, which she was.
He played, probed and kissed her, up and down her body for a long time.
As she was beginning to relax, he propped himself on his elbows climbed on her, and even though he was on top of her there was no weight, he was supporting himself on his knees and arms and lowering his upper body onto her chest, he kissed her lips again. Pailyn had learned to enjoy these kisses, his lips felt like silk sliding smoothly over hers, moist and caring, drifting, recharging her senses.
As he kissed her, his massive tool touched her vagina, again making her jump, but this time only slightly.
It moved around, rubbing, probing, heating her immensely, and making her overloaded mind wander what came next.
Instinctively, she started to move with him, and against him. She didn’t know what to do, everything felt good and he kept doing it, while kissing her on her lips, neck, face, chest, arms.
She tried imitating him, and it worked.
Pailyn kissed him and rubbed her face against his; she kissed his chest and ran her tongue over his nipple making him moan with pleasure.
Feeling reassured that somehow she was doing okay, she pressed harder, until it suddenly happened.
His penis found its way into her, making her cry out in pleasure and lust, but only for a few seconds.
His giant tool slid slowly inwards, ever so slowly, wet and slippery until it reached a point that sent searing pain through her, and she screamed.
The unforeseen reaction froze him, he stopped and pulled out, and with an alarmed look on his face, he left the bed and ran to the bathroom.
As he was getting up, Pailyn could see a tiny drop of blood on his rod, and looking down to her own vagina, she saw a thin trickle of blood slowly sliding down her thigh and onto the dark green, cheap bed sheet.
Her panic didn’t last long; John came back into the room bringing with him a small washcloth damp with warm water.
Immediately, he went to work softly cleaning the blood from her leg and thigh while she lay on her back propped on her elbows trying to see and understand, but failing miserably, allowing tears of fear run freely down her dark cheeks.
John worked on her for what seemed a long time, tenderly cleaning, softly cleaning away the blood, while unaware that his touch was arousing her even more than before.
Even frightened as she was, she couldn’t help but love the man with all her heart, knowing quite well that, when morning came, regardless of what happened that night, she would never see John again.
That thought made her cry disconsolately, and her inability to talk to him, made her cry even more. She sat up and put her legs around his waist and with her arms around his neck squeezed with all her might, wishing that her actions and emotions would keep him there, but knowing that they wouldn’t, she cried some more.
John, obviously confused by her actions and his guilt for deflowering a child, laid down on his back putting Pailyn next to him and extending out his arm, laid her head on his shoulder and held her there, in the dim light of late night, tight against him, and she held him tight against her, motionless, loving, feeling, learning.
In the dark, small whorehouse room, Pailyn didn’t see John’s lone tear roll down his cheek, and she felt safe, wanted and loved, at least for a few more hours.
The air conditioner hummed loud and unwelcome to Pailyn.
The remote control was on the night table next to her; moving her arm slowly she reached for it, found it and pushed the button. The unit made a clanking sound and went silent. She dropped the remote on the floor, next to the bed.
With her head against John’s chest, she could clearly hear the beating of his heart, strong, even, and maybe a little too fast.
She touched his powerful chest with timid passion, slowly, running her fingers on his muscular pectorals.
She touched his nipples; they were hard, like hers. There was a constant flow of electricity where her newly discovered sensitive skin touched his, and the feeling was inebriating, making her body vibrate with craving desire. All these feelings were new and thrilling, stimulating, awesome and luscious, and she wondered if he could feel it. In the silent night, in the welcome warmth of the small room, she knew he was feeling something, for under the sheet partially covering his body, she could see, that John’s huge shaft was still erect, and she longed for it.
Her hand slowly moved from his chest down to his waist and pulled the sheet off him revealing the majesty of his rod. The first try had been painful and scary, but she knew she had to forget her anxieties and try again, for him, for her.
When she touched it, with her head still against his shoulder, she felt John’s breath change, and for just a moment, it become rugged and uneven; she felt his stomach muscles ripple under her probing touch.
Pailyn felt incompetent and clumsy knowing that there were so many things she didn’t know, but wanted the next few hours to be perfect.
Her new sensitive responses told her that all she needed was to follow her instincts. They told her that she was no longer a lost little girl, but a growing woman, with inherent woman’s instincts for her to listen and to follow, and that night she would do it.
Pailyn rose slowly from John’s shoulder and in the soft twilit room, she found John’s lips and kissed them. He responded readily, his hand slightly touching her back.
She lingered on them and felt the tip of his tongue touch her moist lips, another surprise, for which, this time she was prepared. She let it explore her lips and parted them slightly to let him in and see how far it would go.
His tongue went inside her mouth and she let the tip of her tongue touch his. It tasted sweet and salty at the same time, strange but welcoming. The tongues touched and circled each other, their saliva mingled as they tasted each other, while their lips pressed together harder and their bodies vibrated with increased sensual intensity.
Several minutes their lips played and their tongues explored, and then they separated, living behind a craving for more, it would come later. Now she knew.
Newfound confidence in her feminine intuition fueled her curiosity, her desire and eased her fears.
Pailyn leaned over and kissing his lips one more time, she turned on the small lamp on the night table, her curiosity had won, and now she wanted to see.
John looked at Pailyn’s petite, curvaceous body while she slowly backed away from him and sat straddling his extended legs leaving his painful erection between them.
She put her small, graceful hands on John’s succulent member and moved them up, down and around while looking into his eyes.
Pailyn saw what she had hoped for, lust and desire. John saw that determination had replaced the deep fear she felt hours before, and tried to relax and let her explore.
Her hands probed and observed, until she ran her fingers over the rim around the bottom of the shaft’s head.
John recoiled slightly and gasped in blissful pleasure.
She had found his secret button, and pushed it repeatedly eliciting the rewarding response, but she needed to be truly brave and finish what she hadn’t finished before. Slowly, she rose from his legs and positioned herself directly above his giant tool, lowering herself slowly until his rod and her vagina touched lightly.
A sharp shot of feverish electricity ran through her as she squatted lower until she felt the pressure of his penis hard against her wet vagina.
Pailyn put one hand on John’s chest for balance and used the other to guide his stone-hard penis inside her.
The feeling was exhilarating and her body was on fire.
She held it in her hands, and moved it around, touching her own button with it, recoiling in pure delight and doing it again and again until her body started shaking uncontrollably and she was ready to explode, then she came lower and the gigantic meat slid in, only an inch, but where she had expected pain there wasn’t any. She moved up a little and down again, allowing the large pipe to go in a little deeper, again without pain, just a slight pressure and much yearn and delight.
All the time, she looked into his eyes and him into hers and the more they looked the more they wanted.
Up and down again, deeper yet, this time Pailyn turned her hips in a circular motion as she went up and down and the feeling intensified immensely every time John’s penis rubbed against her overheated clitoris.
John’s hands closed around her round, fleshy buttocks, taking some of her weight off her legs and helping her hips rotate and twist and the last time she lowered herself, his penis went in all the way, giving her a dull sensation of pressure and a deliriously delicious ecstatic feeling.
She now moved freely, without the fear of pain, and felt John’s hips begin to circle, with hers, like a well choreographed erotic ballet.
They gyrated and thrust in sensuous unison feeling each other’s sexuality, harder and harder they moved and their bodies tensed and relaxed and struck and recoiled in a heated frenzy.
Pailyn understood now the bond between sex and violence. The anger of passion and the delicious pain of love.
Their hands laced fingers and squeezed each other, while his penis plundered and ravaged the depths of her dripping, wet vagina, sliding in and out with long, deliberate strokes, with the threat of harm but satisfying deeply.
For a long time they punished each other’s genitals by pounding, rubbing and squeezing their bodies together, their breathing grew rugged and their skin sweated profusely, they loved with a hunger, desire and passion rarely seen.
With her heart beating furiously in her chest, Pailyn leaned forward searching for John’s lips. She found them while he helped keep her gyrating, in-out motion with his big, strong hands under her thighs.
They kissed hard, long and passionately and behind closed eyes, Pailyn saw bright explosions, and tall flames of infinite colors dancing wildly in her erotically overloaded mind.
When her nipples touched John’s chest, the bright electric shocks returned. His succulent penis was inside her deep and she felt no pain just luxurious passionate agony.
She heard a voice, somewhere in the distance, moaning, screaming and realized it was her own voice. Her body reached a point of eruption and started to shudder with uncontrollable spasms, her back arched and a loud scream escaped her throat, and when she finally reached the ultimate orgasmic peak, she felt a hot shot of thick liquid deep inside her battered vagina and felt John’s strong member throb and spill more boiling hot semen deep, deep into her body and her soul, filling her physically and emotionally.
She felt his body vibrate in delirious ecstasy unloading the fruit of their love deep inside her, and she accepted it with intense and immeasurable delight.
Suddenly her body lost all its power and, spent, fell limp onto John’s heaving chest, where he held to it tightly.
They laid there spent, holding each other close and tight for a long time.
She could feel John’s penis slowly soften still inside her and his juice ooze out warm and sensuous until the burning heat of their sexual battle became a warm, comfortable slumber.
Right there, on that man’s chest, spent and breathing hard with the taste of his salty sweat on her lips, Pailyn felt happy, secure and deeply satisfied, and with all the power of her heart, body and soul, she wished that that man belonged to her.
Today, Pailyn, twenty five, John forty nine have been legally married for seven years and they live in Seattle, where she finished College two years ago and is into her second year attending the university in pursue of a psychology degree.
John owns a fairly large trucking company which he hopes to sell within the next few years.
They plan to return to Thailand where John will retire and Pailyn will use her education and human abilities to help other girls who live the same nightmare she lived, but are not as lucky as her, and will love John until the end of time.
Pailyn and John share a love and commitment of a depth and intensity unknown to most of humanity.
Many, in the Western World might judge John harshly, maybe they are right, but in a brutally violent world of suicide bombers, mass murders and political genocide, theirs, is a Cinderella story.
I’ve been told many times that the end justifies the means, but there are those of us who believe that the means, are what we live with.
Submitted By - Thunder O. Aggi