After Dinner

 

On Thursday I felt overworked, tired, and missing Sasha terribly. I left work at eight in the evening, stressed out. I called Sasha to tell her I was going home, and she surprised me by meeting me at my front door.

She was already kissing me before I got my key out, and then once inside she stepped back to take in my disheveled appearance. "You look terrible."

"Thank you," I answered sarcastically. Her faced screwed up, not yet understanding. Then I remembered that sarcasm is sometimes hard to understand for a non-native English speaker. I sighed, my head was still aching from all of the middle management malarkey I'd endured that day.

"I was joking," I quickly told her.

Satisfied with my answer, she nodded and then moved in to start unbuttoning my shirt. This time, she had a cool detachment as she undressed me: efficient, not seductive. Coupled with my exhaustion from the week, I wasn't even hard when she got me naked. However, when in a few short moments, Sasha became equally naked; no amount of tiredness was going to stop my arousal. Those perfectly shaped, bud like breasts and her halo of golden hair probably could have raised the dead and such a voluptuous sight certainly raised my ever hungry penis.

She mischievously grinned when she saw me start to rise in anticipation. Moments later she was guiding me into the bathroom, quickly turning on the shower. I let my eyes roam over her petite body, smooth lines interrupted only by her perfect breasts and tight ass. Her nipples were already hard from the cool air. By now I was as hard as a rock.

Once satisfied with the temperature, Sasha directed me into the spray, eagerly following in after me. For a few minutes, we just basked in the warmth of the shower spray, holding each other closely and letting the water dribble down between our pressed together chests.

We kissed tenderly, and I felt my stiff erection pressing against her soft stomach. However, Sasha delayed the inevitable by thoroughly cleaning me. She shampooed my hair and massaged my balls, smiling all the while. She rubbed soap over every

bit of my body, and I mean every part of me. In the end I was squeaky clean and also very turned on.

Then with a gentle grace, Sasha pushed me down to sit on the built in bench. The cold surface momentarily bit into my ass. This honey sweet Slovak promptly knelt before me. The shower spray was pouring down her back while her face descended until her lips exquisitely sucked my member into her hot mouth.

Sasha's blowjob was exquisite. Slow, deliberate, and indescribably pleasurable. She played me like a finely tuned instrument, a harmonious melody that sent shivers down my spine and absolutely melted the tension in my muscles. At last, with her soft fingers rubbing at my testicles and her softer lips suckling on the head of my cock, she brought me to a tremendous climax, splattering wad after wad across her face until she was drenched, and not from water. Finally, she slipped me back into her mouth to suction out the last of my sperm.

Fully drained, I fell against the shower wall, not caring about the new coldness icing across my back. A satisfied smirk spread across Sasha's face, and then she stood up to clean herself up.

I watched her rinse off, then soap up her entire naked body, rubbing her palms against her heaving bosom. Her hair, filled with bubbly shampoo, hung straight back against her scalp to fall back in a curtain of silky black. And when her hands descended between her legs to clean and caress, I found my pecker once again rising to the occasion.

Once she got cleaned up, we toweled off and then I literally carried her to my bed and dove down to return the oral favor. Her taste was so fresh, musky and sweet. Greedily, I sucked and licked all over her pussy lips and exposed clit, causing Sasha to cry out with obvious delight. I brought her to two rapid climaxes before climbing on top of her delectable form. Slowly I entered, reveling in the heat of her tender softness. She was wet and willing, urging me to make love to her. She was my precious angel. With a fresh orgasm from Sasha, combined with a final deluge into her love channel via my erupting cock, we were finally done for that evening.

Still, the spontaneous rendezvous meant that she was not prepared to spend the night. I was inwardly quite disappointed when Sasha left me again that evening. It took some effort to be ready for work, not to mention the real world next morning.

***

A part of me felt rather guilty that our relationship seemed to be constant sex, without the quality time necessary for romance and falling in love. Where were the deep, meaningful conversations of getting to know you? Was I wrong for wanting a relationship and not a date?

That day at work, I forced myself to make real quality time for her. Of all the days I should be able to go home on time, Friday was it. So we made a Friday night date: to the supermarket. Sasha's roommate was going out for the evening, so she planned a quiet dinner for just the two of us at her place.

We casually moved around the market with our shopping carts, chatting and laughing the whole while. I made it a point to learn everything I could about her, driven by a desire to know her completely. I was so eager I belatedly realized I was talking too much: asking too many questions and really starting to drag on her. We paid for the groceries and then we headed for Sasha's apartment. This was her opportunity to cook for me and spend some quality time at her place.

Once there, Sasha ordered me into the living room and refused to let me near the kitchen, despite my intentions to help out. "You are not my husband. So get out of here and watch basketball or something."

So I fidgeted on the couch, watching the TV and nervously glanced into the kitchen every now and again. Sasha was smoothly cooking up something that smelled delicious. This all felt very strange, but if Sasha wanted it, I can handle it.

When halftime arrived, I snuck into the kitchen while Sasha's back was turned, not to help, but to watch. I snaked my hands around her waist and then with a shriek she turned and giggled while I wrapped her up in a hug and planted a big kiss right on her lips.

She stopped struggling and just kissed me back. But when she pulled away, she slapped my butt and gave me a healthy shove back into the living room. Still, I'd seen enough to recognize the rice cooker steaming, miso soup simmering, and a sizzling fish which she'd purchased at the market.

Presently, she began to bring dishes over to the dining table, but held up a hand to keep my butt firmly planted into the couch. Only once she was done did Sasha let me join her at the table.

I decided to practice an American custom and helped her into her chair and pushed her into place before taking my own seat. She gestured, and I began to eat this delicious repast.

The dinner itself was delicious. It was very hard in the modern day to find a woman who could cook. My ex-wife had been a career-oriented woman and the dinners she made for me primarily consisted of microwaveables. Sasha's wonderfully home cooked meal was a delight.

We chatted happily, but I was starving and this was the first real meal I'd had since my last date with Sasha. So I wound up spending most of the evening with my face stuffed. But with the candles lit, and my charm turned all the way up, we were having a very pleasant and mildly romantic evening.

After dinner, we retired to the couch to get into a heavy make out session. My hands were quickly on her breasts, and Sasha was moaning into my ear. When I started to remove some of her clothing, Sasha shook her head and then pulled me way from the couch.

"Perhaps my roommate will come home."

I nodded in agreement, momentarily deflated. But then she was pulling me back towards her bedroom. I realized then that we'd never had a sexual encounter in Sasha's apartment before.

Once inside, she turned on the desk lamp and closed the door; and then we were frenching like horny teenagers on her bed. She let me remove her top, and then I was suckling on her tits and rubbing her ass even as her hands found their way to my crotch.

I moved to take her skirt off, and then suddenly Sasha's eyes flew open and she was pushing me away from her in a panic.

Bewildered, I sat back and asked, "What's wrong?"

She responded hurriedly. "I am sorry. But, we cannot tonight."

"Oh." I was momentarily dejected. I had expected to get laid tonight.

But I could live without. "That's okay. Are you feeling alright?"

Sasha's eyes dropped down. "I am fine." Her body language said the exact opposite.

"Then what's wrong?"

Her cheeks colored, embarrassed. "Not sure... English." The more flustered she got, the worse her English became. "Only start afternoon today. I am... unclean. My time of month."

I understood. With a warm smile on my face, I took her into my arms and kissed her on the forehead. "Please do not be embarrassed. There is no shame." Then I tilted her chin up and kissed her with as much passion as I ever had in my life.

She returned the kiss, and soon we found ourselves embracing as if the interruption had never happened. I let my hands drift under her skirt to feel her ass, but never made any motions towards her pussy lest she feel uncomfortable. Soon, my face busied itself with her neckline and firm cleavage.

After several minutes, Sasha moved to slip my pants off. Her face was slightly shadowed in the lamp light, a seductive purr in her voice as she bared my erection to the open air. Lightly, she kissed the head and then lowered down to begin one of her fantastic blowjobs. Even if we weren't able to fully make love, she could still very much please me.

This time, she kept things simple and to the point. There was no teasing, only a rapid stroking designed to make me come quickly. I did just that, only lasting a few minutes before releasing all my tension, and a healthy load, directly down her throat. She sucked down every drop, pausing only to show me the pool of my jizz she had collected before swallowing in one gulp.

With a teasing giggle, she kissed me. And then we cuddled on the bed, resting for a few minutes. We got up then, Sasha disappearing into the bathroom to take a separate shower while I returned to the couch and started channel surfing for a romantic comedy or something. After she was done and came out in a demure pajama set, I went in to clean the day's grime away as well.

When I came out, bare-chested and comfortable in some lounge pants, we cuddled together on the couch, Sasha snuggling into the crook of my arm and entangling her legs with mine. She gave me a few short pecks before briefly zoning out in front of the television, lost in random thought.

I picked up the remote and started looking again for a pleasant movie to pass our evening.

Once done with her momentary thinking, Sasha turned to me and asked a very relevant question. "Do you think of me as your girlfriend?"

I turned off the TV and focused my attention on her. "Yes," I responded honestly. "Maybe even more someday." I smiled at the happy thoughts of a future.

"I do also think of you as my boyfriend."

I was very happy that we'd gotten that out of the way, and I looked forward to referring to her as my girlfriend in public. But before I could say anything else, Sasha apologized once again. "I am sorry that I will not be able to make love to you for the next several days."

"Oh, that's quite alright. These things happen."

"I would be happy to give you blowjobs every day." Her tone was very matter-of- fact.

I laughed at that. I appreciated the sentiment, however weird it sounded for her to come out and say that. "Thank you, Sasha. But you don't have to."

"Yes, I do. I want to. You see, I understand that a man has his needs. And if we are in the relationship, it is my duty to fulfill those needs."

"Sasha, in America, we don't do things only out of duty. We do those things because we want to. I don't want you giving me a blowjob just because you feel obligated."

"What I know is that I want to make you happy. And I feel ashamed that right now I cannot do that as well as you may desire." She was quite sincere in her sentiment. I was starting to wonder how very wide the cultural gap was between us.

"I'll manage for the next week or so. And you don't have to give me a blow job every day."

"But I will. Or, if that is not enough, perhaps you could call Tiffany, and she could satisfy your sexual intercourse needs."