Fumi-land Chapter 1: The Grim Ahego Concealment
Central City had always been a peaceful place amidst the chaos on the West Coast. Blessed with the green landscapes along the Oregon and Washington borders and people who preferred the tried and tested rather than taking risks, it was often dismissed as boring, stable, and safe. However, it nurtured innovation and high-skilled industries while keeping the streets safe and clean, making it an excellent destination for young families and a secure place to retire for the elderly. Although it didn't host any flashy festivals or extravagant cultural displays, the calm and practical nature of the city was what attracted the Kamadas to send their only daughter, Yumi, to study at its top university. It was close by and had a manageable time difference, ensuring she wouldn't get lost in the bohemian ways of the students or end up embracing them like many Asian girls did when they came to America to start a new life.
During one of Amy Li's lengthy speeches in the university's cafeteria, Yumi found herself thinking that she'd been chosen by her parents.
With the cafeteria quiet during lectures and class times, Yumi, Amy, and Anika came here every day. Since she'd moved onto the campus, Yumi had become great friends with the two girls.
Amy was the chatterbox of the trio, a sunny Chinese-American girl who always had something to say. She and Yumi met during orientation week, bonding over their shared love of anime. Although Yumi herself didn't care about it much, she was grateful for Amy's relentless chatter. After their conversation about anime ended, Amy turned into a treasure trove of advice, helping Yumi with everything from setting up a mobile phone plan to local slang and navigating the campus grounds. On the second night in her campus apartment, Yumi foolishly locked herself out, and who came to save her? Amy. Driving to the campus, Amy waited with Yumi in her warm car, keeping her company with conversation while they waited for the campus security guard to help the lost student. But, nobody's perfect, and even though they were still in the orientation week and eating lunch together at the cafeteria, Yumi learned of Amy's little annoyance.
"Check them out! They're there every day at the same time," Amy exclaimed, pointing to a dining booth on the opposite side of the cafeteria. The three friends settled in their own booth, tucking into their meals with Yumi laughing as she practiced using a knife and fork for her spaghetti carbonara. Catching Amy's words, Yumi looked over at the booth she'd been signaled to observe, spotting a fully occupied table with six people. There were three girls and three boys in total. As Amy had mentioned, all of the females were Asian, with black hair, fair skin, and the soft facial features they had in common. One girl was a little taller, around 5'8", but the rest were a few inches shorter while the boys next to them were American, at least Yumi assumed so. Though not giants, they were taller than the men she was accustomed to back home, and their blue and green eyes were complemented by the boys' arms around the girls' waists, laughing and telling jokes gently, occasionally slapping the shoulder of a girl in fun.
Lowering herself back into her seat, Yumi turned her attention back to Amy, who looked at her excitedly, as if waiting for a response. But Yumi could only shrug.
"I...I don't understand..." Yumi chuckled.
Anika let out a gentle laugh.
"It's not the happy couples, Yumi: us!"
She emphasized the word 'us'.
"You haven't experienced it over there, but here? This is almost normal for us. In commercials. In movies. In shows. In media. Even in newspapers." Amy shut her mouth like a trap, looking around their immediate area and then leaning back in, whispering the word "porn. We're almost always paired up with the white guys. The society here craves it. Craves us."
Yumi looked back at that group, then at Amy again, her mouth partially open, unsure of what to say, or even how to comprehend it. So many foreign concepts to her. "But...I don't understand," Yumi questioned, "I thought you were all Americans here?"
Amy blinked, her mouth open for a moment, clearly not having expected such a response. However, she quickly regained her composure. "They," Amy whispered low, her eyes staring at the group, the fork in her right hand almost pointing to who she meant: the girls.
"They, give us, a poor reputation. They're social climbers. Sex addicts."
Yumi's eyes widened slightly as she brought her hand up to cover her mouth and her soft gasp. "But what about the guys?" she asked, still not sure what to make of this.
"Pfft, men are men," Amy scoffed, "men are just horny, they think with their 'poles', Mother Nature has ordered them to spread their genes. Girls throw themselves at them of course they'll take advantage. We should behave better. We're the 'Model Minority' after all," she snorted lightly in contempt and sarcasm.
But, once again, Yumi only comprehended half of what her friend was saying. "Model...what? What's that?"
Amy finished her mac and cheese, perhaps realizing she'd said too much. "Look, I'm sorry, Yumi. I get a bit worked up sometimes, forget I said anything. I'll explain it to you another time, okay?" she offered, that reassuring, friendly smile of hers returning.
A part of Yumi wanted to tell her friend to get over it. Really - so some of their 'asian sisters' found solace with men from another race they had good relations with? We should all be so lucky, she thought to herself. But she couldn't find the courage to tell her what she really thought, as she knew she was an outsider to the social and cultural current of the land, while Amy had been brought up here. All Yumi had witnessed was filtered through media and the internet. For all she knew there really was some low-key fetishization, some unspoken understanding between the groups that they were deemed lesser or easy because they had proven particularly receptive to one certain demographic of male. Besides, Yumi admired Amy's friendship, and she didn't want to rock the boat on this topic and enjoy her on others where they found agreement.
"Oh, that reminds me!" Amy began abruptly, her gaze shifting between Yumi and Anika.
"The Mooncake Festival is coming soon!" she clapped her hands together over her chest, grinning brightly.
"I know your families are in your home-countries, but my mom and dad said you could both come over to our house for the dinner!"
Yumi smiled joyfully, a flash of warmth moving through her chest at the kind invitation, "Oh, arigato gozaimasu - oh, whoops, sorry! Thank you very much, yes!"
Anika joined in the gratitude but Amy waved it off, "I want you both to feel welcome! I have to leave now, but you've got my number if you ever need me!" she smiled warmly, shuffling herself out of the booth and before the table. Glancing back over towards the other table one last time, she looked back at Yumi and Anika, leaning in and whispering, "just ignore the sluts, heheh" she giggled as if they were all in on a joke, before departing.
Anika had yet to say anything, as Yumi could tell she was a shy girl, and seemed a little self-conscious about her accent. Nevertheless, the angles of her face and her warm, caramel-colored skin mixed with her black hair and big, warm brown eyes made a wonderful image, Yumi thought. Offering the other girl a pleasant smile, Anika returned the gesture with sincerity, before they both finished their lunch in agreeable silence, simply enjoying each other's company. But, every now and then, Yumi would find her gaze moving back over to that other table, seeing how happy those girls looked; their smiles, their gentle laughter lingering in the booth. One had her boyfriend's arm around her affectionately as she snuggled into him, even drawing a fork up to his mouth to let him eat something off it, both exchanging a look with each other before he leaned in and kissed her briefly, his fair skin against her golden.
Yeah, that'd be awful...Yumi thought sarcastically to herself, moving back to look at Anika, only to catch her staring at the same thing.
Weeks passed and Yumi became more comfortable. She's a quiet person by nature and lacked confidence in her English skills, despite being told by many people that her English was good. Yumi remained quiet in classes and spent nights alone. Though not naturally introverted, the cultural differences and missing her friends back home were affecting her. Walking to lectures or classes was a solitary affair. Even though she was invited to places, she spent most nights alone in her dorm room.
Yumi noticed a significant difference in Americans' behavior compared to where she came from. They were very talkative and open.
"Hi, where are you from?"
"I love your hair, do you do it yourself?"
"Sorry if I sound rude, but what do you use for your skin, it's very beautiful!"
"Oh, you're from Japan? Welcome, honey! I hope you're adjusting well!"
"Your English is really fantastic. Could you say a few things in Japanese for me?"
The last one in particular, she was supposed to find offensive, but Yumi didn't. After years of school and watching Western news, she mastered a language that was structurally so different, it took her a long time to learn. She was able to enjoy various shows and movies, appreciating the word play and subtlety that made them great. It was something she was proud of, knowing that one day her career would involve translating, helping to foster better relations between groups.
Communication wasn't the issue, Yumi was shy. Crowds didn't suit her, and she wanted to make friends and connect with people. Not in a loud Frat party with inebriated students stumbling around. As the semester progressed, Yumi planned to join some groups, but her workload increased. Another Friday night found her in her small dorm room, working at her small desk, amidst a sea of scattered papers.
She looked out her window to the common area on the 3rd floor, filled with trees and park benches often used for parties. During the day, it was peaceful, but at 10 pm, she frowned and moved her wheelchair to the window.
Students below were drinking, chatting, and laughing loudly. They formed circles of 5-10 people, regularly exchanging between each other, some even pairing up and leaving early for their dorms. She noticed one of the girls in the cafeteria Amy had called a "slut," her back against a wall, her tall, white boyfriend leaning over her, their lips pressed together, her arms around him. They'd been together for a couple of months, still going strong. And they were having so much fun...
Yumi took a deep breath, looking around her small apartment, empty. It was 10 pm. She was a 20-year-old woman, single. This was her Friday night; schoolwork, and staring down judgmentally at fellow young people living their lives.
Yumi bit her lip, staring out the window again, this time with longing rather than criticism. She saw couples breaking off to make out, some going back to dorm rooms together, while she was up here, alone.
Taking a look at her bare apartment once more, Yumi swallowed. Why was she single? Why did she miss out on these experiences?
At the touch of her fingertips, Yumi retrieved her phone from her bedside table. It lay in a pink casing, a pink tinge to her otherwise wounded eyes. Scrolling through her apps with urgency, she recognized the familiar shape of a dating app name she'd heard so much about. After finishing the logical verification process, she led her attention to the next step: a profile photo.
Puckering her lips, she grinned, hoping to radiate friendliness and charm. But she was unfulfilled. Her cheeks glimmered with an inexplicable sheen that just wouldn't subside, erasing her well-intended attempt to be presentable. Her image appeared unfitting - displaying a vibrant young woman who resembled the dainty characters of anime. With an upturned peace sign to match the smile she tested, her image was far from mature, elegant, and sophisticated. Resembling an upbeat storybook character rather than someone her parents could be proud to know, let alone someone her future partner could be proud to introduce to his.
"Fuck, what a loser I am!" she groaned, clenching the phone in both hands. "Why can't I just be cool?" After some pondering, Yumi checked the time: 10:15pm.
Allowing a small sigh of frustration, the realisation dawned - only the undesirables would still be awake by this time. With the longing thought of finding a gem from the abundance of supposedly romantic men, Yumi realized the risk of not hurrying wouldn't produce the desired outcome.
Crowning herself 'Sparklebunny', not wanting to reveal her true identity, she positioned herself, legs crossed at the end of her bed. Delving into her selection of potential dates, she flicked through the app, landing on the 'Looking for Tonight' option that would undoubtedly hold confirmed singles.
The notifications got the better of her.
Ding! - There are 10 men expressing interest in her.
Ding! - There are 15 men expressing interest in her.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding! - 20 men can't help but notice her, wanting to make her their prospective date.
"Stop it!" her voice bellowed out, barely dripping of exasperation as she violently shoved and shook her device into silence, to squelch the persistent dings that filled the room.
Yumi slouched back against her pillows, defeated. The partygoers were having a grand time; she could hear their cheerful yells. Her curiosity peaked, and she started perusing the candidates for a few more minutes, wondering how to find relief from her apparent emptiness. But alas, she was still unfit for this task.
With a reluctant sigh, she prepared to rest. Her eyes closed, momentarily admitting to her defeated self. But there was a noticeable change in the calm decision-making she'd made seconds ago. Her eyes popped open as she contemplated this new plan and fixated on the same glaring clock. Retrieving her phone, she opened up the messages section. One stood out - Will. The idea of someone who found her enticing and somehow had her number, all while being completely unaware of who he'd managed to message. And he had no knowledge of the message he sent her. Yumi's excitement stirred at the thought of him asking her out. What was the previous message?
'You're up late. Let me guess, still doing school work?'
Examining his profile picture, she imagined his face saying these words. A handsome appeal drew her weary eyes; sandy-colored hair trimmed neatly, framing his pretty jaw hinting of boyishness with a convinced expression. Green eyes gazed at her, so full of curiosity and perception. The charm he radiated leaked through his words, creating a gallant quality in his persona. A novel detail hit her as she lightly blushed.
She struggled to escape from the plot she later imagined.
'NO!'
'Party at my dorm, I just got back.'
Shock settled in, as Yumi realized the gravity of her response. Intrigued, she noticed that he picked up on her (possibly unintentional) insinuation. Green eyes following planning, he seized her interest.
'Same. Bored?'
A small grin emerged on Yumi's face. She quickly shut off her phone, leaving down her laptop. Feeling she was someone craving attention rather than enjoying her singlehood, the reality sank in. Students strolling by paid her no mind, deep in their conversations and couples. The night breezes held her gaze to the setting around her, the idea of puberty's games - this was it. Single. Lonely. What could hold her back, clad in sheets on a Friday night, continuing to study school work that often left her alone.
Guilt and shame condensed, shrouding her in heavy coats of embarrassment. Constructing her perception of who she was, she instead realised that with the multitude of beautiful couples, she was still alone.
Yumi turned and got onto her bed, grabbing her phone once more and lounging back on her behind, pressing her head against her pillow. Her blood was shooting through her veins and her lower back was tingling. She knew she had to act fast, needed to send out her signals, because in a few minutes she'd regret it.
"Yeah, you free?"
No immediate response. A full minute passed. Nothing. Yumi started questioning herself -
The ellipsis popped up and started moving. He was typing back!
"I'm across campus. Will shower first. Room number?"
All her instinct, her common sense, and everything she'd known from back home told her to drop the phone and just slide under the covers and go to sleep, to forget about it all.
"Dorm F, 305"
"See you in 15."
There it was.
Done.
He was coming to her place, and expected...something, something physical. Yumi wasn't a virgin; she had two boyfriends back in Japan. In fact, she'd ended her relationship with one just to come here! What if he wanted to talk? No, silly, of course he'd just want sex. Of course he would! What if she said no? Would he respect that? Would he be mad at her? Yumi's mind was on fire with a million anxious questions until she heard her doorbell bell, and she realized she'd been standing there for almost a quarter hour, stuck in her panic.
And now, he was here.
Yumi stared at her clothes - she wore baggy grey sweat pants and a white shirt for Christ's sake, she looked like a bum! Panicking, she rushed over to her mirror and wanted to yell when she saw how shabby she was, as if she'd just rolled out of bed. She looked like this to receive someone as good-looking as him, she glanced at her phone again! No no no no, this couldn't be happening.
The doorbell rang again.
Looking over at the entrance to her tiny place, Yumi felt her heart nearly jump out of her chest as she slowly made her way towards the door, her voice low and cooing, "Hi..." she whispered before stepping up to the door and peaking suspiciously through the peephole.
He was standing there, the real deal, he hadn't lied about his looks or his age. No lies, no filters, no old pictures from a decade ago.
"Hey...Yumi?" he asked with a hesitant grin.
Yumi's face felt like it was on fire, her ears growing hot.
"That sounds silly when I hear it..."
He chuckled, "May I come in?" to which she nodded and he stepped in, closing the door behind him and locking it.
"Wow, you didn't have any filters on your photos, you're a really cute little thing...honey."
Yumi's cheeks went from bright red to an almost crimson.
"Thanks. You were down there tonight?" he inquired as he followed her into her little two-room apartment. She'd been searching for where he could sit, but instead, he just chose the spot, settling down on her mattress without invitation.
"Yeah," she confirmed with a slight nod, the blush returning to her cheekbones, "...or rather, no, haha" she covered her mouth with her hand and laughed softly in her palm, as he just smiled, his teeth gleaming. The sharp angle of his jaw captured her attention. His eyes were bright green, his blonde hair sandy and neat, she could see the clear definition of his toned body beneath his attire, he loomed over her...
Will got a twinkle in his eye as he turned his gaze to her desk, the stacks of papers and the open laptop. "Stereotypes, huh?" he asked, and Yumi felt her cheeks heat and then flush, nervously biting her lip in embarrassment, standing awkwardly and shifting from foot to foot in her own home before him.
"I'm from...Japan," she answered timidly, her stomach fluttering, "I...I'm just nervous. I'm not used to this...it's just...not something girls from where I came from usually do...you know. Giggling."
That blush flared up once more, her face feeling torrid and burning.
"Are you talking about fun girls?" he mused playfully, and Yumi felt her mouth open slightly as if gasping, but a part of her wanted to laugh, she shook her head. "No no no..." she laughed once more, hiding her mouth in her hand.
Yumi noticed that Will was putting the pieces together. He realized how late it was, he saw the pile of school work, the party outside, the foreign girl by herself, the app, the messages. He wasn't stupid.
"Do you want to be a fun girl, Ms Sparklebunny?"
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but there was something more there too. She could feel a warm finger running up her back, setting her nerves alight with anticipation, a hot tingling that ran down her flat stomach and straight between her legs. She looked at him, handsome, confident, already in charge of her house. She took a deep breath and nodded slightly.
"...yes," she whispered, blushing and smiling. She wanted to please him, to make him happy. She didn't even know his real name, she'd only met him a few minutes ago, but she wanted to obey him.
"Say it," he ordered simply.
Her cheeks flushed red and shy. She wanted to hide her face in her hands or wait it out, but another urge surged within her, compelling her to obey, to agree and do what he said. To make him happy.
Trembling, "I...I want to be a fun girl..."
That smile that formed on his lips. She knew at that moment that she would see him again one day.
"Well, you're already small," he joked, her blush returning. "I can't leave and empty-handed, can I?"
Yumi gulped, her heart pounding as she slowly shook her head, "No...you...deserve something for coming over."
"Good girl," he nodded in agreement; two words that shot through her body like fingers across her womanhood. It took a conscious effort not to softly moan.
"Take your sweatpants off."
Yumi froze for a second, the words dulling her senses. Feeling her skin warm, her lower back tingle, she swallowed and shook her head gently.
"I'd...rather keep them on," she mumbled, clearly only meaning half of it.
"Don't worry," he said nonchalantly, "you can keep your panties on. Here..."
He waved his hand in her direction, palm upwards, and gestured her towards him with his fingers. Yumi knew he couldn't know how rude that was where she came from, the motion associated with calling over pets or children, but there he was doing it to her anyway, in her own apartment, and towards removing her pants. She swallowed, feeling between her thighs warming as she obeyed, taking several steps towards him, as he put his warm, large hand on her hip when she arrived.
"You're a beautiful thing, you know that?" he asked, raising his hand and hooking his thumbs under the waistband of her sweatpants, slowly pulling them down. The wind whooshed out of Yumi's lungs as she was unable to comprehend what was happening to her: the shimmering, dark silk of her panties exposed, contrasting with her pale skin as she watched his smiling reaction; all the way down, until she stepped out of them, and his hands returned to her hips, rubbing slowly up and down from hip to outer-thigh.
"Silk panties? Are you a fancy little rich girl?" he teased. Before she could answer, he gently, but firmly, used his grip on her hips to turn her around, bending her forward; her heart-shaped, creamy-colored rear exposed by her black, silken panties as Yumi had never felt so exposed, like putty in a man's hands.
"Ohh fuck, look at that..." he grunted, and Yumi felt his strong hand grasp one of her cheeks and squeeze it, then the other, then a light slap that elicited a delicate little yelp from her.
"Who said Asian girls don't have ass? Heh heh. You've got great legs, Ms Bunny, cycle a lot?"
Yumi panted, her chest heaving, feeling like she was passing an exam and this gave her great pleasure. Looking over her shoulder at him, she blushed and smiled, nodding, "...yes, I cycle a lot - ahh!" he slapped her rear again, this time a little stronger: the jolts going through her body: slapping her ass! She didn't even know his name! This was her apartment, and he was treating her like some rebellious school girl. But she sighed again, moaned again; bending herself forward a little more as she felt those hands gripping and kneading at her cheeks.
"Someone likes this..." he said with assurance, squeezing, kneading, gripping.
"Aaah! Oh..." Yumi moaned softly, as delight coursed through her body, her toes curling to feel that flat part of the knuckle rubbing against her folds, from her clit to her star, her sigh and mewlings soft and joyful.
"Wow...someone really likes this...heh heh..." came his words, "wow, Ms Bunny, you're wet..."
He withdrew his fingers and stood up. Yumi turned to look at him, her brain half liquefied due to forbidden pleasure as he wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand against her smooth stomach, and gently lifted her to stand up straight, looking up at him, where he leaned down and kissed her lips. To look up at him, she had to crane her head backward, and the warm strength of his arm around her shorter, slimmer body, his shoulder blades against his stomach, her head against his pecs, it was warm, she felt so protected while she massaged his lips with hers and sighed through her nostrils in a kiss she didn't want to end. But when it did, Yumi leaned back against him, her soft lips finding his jawline and kissing it, wanting to worship and show respect to such a magnificent example of masculinity.
"You're a lonely, horny girl, far from home, aren't you?"
Yumi gulped, her nipples hardening under her shirt, and she nodded.
"Say it," he urged softly, and now he kissed her cheek instead. She felt his stubble against her delicate skin, the rough sensation sending more sensations down her shoulders.
"Say you're a lonely, horny girl."
She swallowed, her chest tightening as if trying to stop such a confession. But she wanted to say it, she wanted him to hear it.
"I...I'm...I'm...a lonely, horny girl..."
Yumi moaned loudly, standing on her toes, feeling both his hands move up to cup her breasts, his fingers finding her rigid nipples and squeezing.
"Again."
She sighed and howled, barely able to think as searing pleasure moved through her body through her chest; her nipples hardened and pinched, another lever he could manipulate to make her dance for him.
"I'm...a lonely, horny girl."
"And I shouldn't leave empty-handed, right? I mean, you invited me over after all. You'd be a very rude hostess, wouldn't you?"
Yumi smiled, her body heating up from arousal, nodding, "Yes...yes you deserve something...it would be rude to say no..."
"Turn around and kneel."
Yumi obeyed. She wanted to obey. She turned on her feet and looked up at him, tilting her head back once more, before sliding downwards to kneel in front of him, her face at groin level, and she could see his bulge already. Once more, she felt a distant societal dictate urging her to stop, but she ignored it. Her thighs were warm, her lower back tingling as she dismissed such prerogatives and reached up to grasp his groin - feeling the robust flesh beneath his jeans, stroking it. Her eyes widened slightly, the size not something she was accustomed to.
"Take him out."
She swallowed, exhaled, biting her lower lip and nodded compliantly. Reaching up for his jeans, she undid the button, then the belt, then held the cord, including that of his briefs, and lowered it; his thick, hard, pink penis emerging. Yumi gasped softly, covering his mouth with her small hand as she stared at it; his stiff, long, thick penis swaying from side to side as she looked right down the length, his large sack resting beneath the base of his tool.
"Amazing..." she murmured softly, taking her hand away, staring openmouthed as she wrapped her petite, pale hand around the base of his thick, pink penis. Yumi could determine it was seven to eight inches. A porn star's monster? No. But larger and thicker than anything she'd ever held? Yes.
"Larger than the boys back home?" Will asked above, as if reading her thoughts, and all she could do was blush, covering her mouth with her free hand as she nodded shyly, her other hand beginning to stroke his now completely erect penis, her smaller hand barely fitting around that spongy-hard flesh. The vein bulged along the top, the pink penis extending invitingly to her tongue.
"Which one do you prefer?" he asked, signing softly as her small, pale hand continued gripping his full-hard penis.
Yumi just blushed, biting her lower lip, unwilling to answer, but eager to please him. [
"...yours, hehe" she couldn't help but giggle as Will groaned in delight overhead. When she removed her hand, she moved her mouth onto his head, taking in the first few inches with her warm, tight little mouth and sucking. He moaned again from above as Yumi's wet mouth slurped and sucked loudly, saliva foaming around her lips as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of that thick, pink cock spreading her mouth open beautifully, her jaw already having to extend down further than usual as she gave it her all, wanting to please him and satisfy herself. Placing her smaller hands on his thighs and going hands-free, Yumi sat up. No longer kneeling, she squatted, her knees bent, her pretty head moving up and down with her eyes closed and full, pink-brown lips wrapped around Will's thick, pink cock, sucking greedily and making wet noises. One minute. Two. Four. Six. Yumi felt the warmth between her thighs pulsing throughout her entire body, pushing her on, each squelching compression his cock made when reaching the entrance of her throat sending bolts of pleasure through her nervous system and straight to her wet, hot folds.
"God...damn girl! Fuck..." he moaned above, tipping his head back and reaching down with one large hand to stroke her silky black hair. She said nothing - she just sucked. Her head back and forth, up and down. Sometimes pressing her hands against his thighs and pushing herself down as far as she could go; feeling that spongey-hard head press against the entrance to her throat, the compression creating hot streams of bliss throughout his body as she heard him groan louder above her, his knees weakening as she pushed just a bit harder, and harder - locking her lips around his stiff, pink meat and twisting them in a circular motion to tighten and twist the entrance of her throat against his ultra-sensitive head.
"Ohh - fuck - get off!" he exclaimed, quickly withdrawing his dick from her wet, slick mouth, letting strands of saliva hang between her lips and his penis.
"Mmmm gimmie that Asian slut face...that thing with the eyes and tongue..." he groaned from above, the wet, slippery sounds of his hand pumping his cock filling Yumi's ears. She knew what he wanted - she'd seen it before, and every time she had, it had been unpleasant. For a woman to degrade herself like this, to strip away her intelligence, her identity, to embrace this bimboification to titillate and please men at her dignity's expense. She could almost hear Amy's voice in her head: don't make us look bad.
Yumi rolled her eyes half-way back and stuck out her tongue. She brought her hands to the sides of her head to make peace signs.
"Yess, that's it - fuuuck!"
She heard the first squelching-splat half a second before she felt the first warm, sticky rope splatter across her face, then another, and another, and another. Will groaned above her, directing his cock and emptying his balls over Yumi's bimbo'd face as she held the pose that was his canvas. "Yess! Ohh fucking yes..." as he looked down at once. Exhaling as the final jet was laced over her pretty face, Will exhaled, swallowed, and rolled his shoulders, seeing his shots had gotten into her hair, over her face, some in her mouth and on her chin, with a teaspoon worth of his seed hanging from her chin.
"Damn girl, fucking yes...here, clean me up..." he uttered, holding the base of his spent dick and pressing the head back into her warm, wet mouth; watching with approval as she closed her lips around it and felt her slurping and sucking him clean, swallowing it all down. "Yeah...such a good girl," he sighed, pulling out his clean penis before smirking and holding it up, presenting his sack. Yumi, meanwhile, had wiped the cum off her eyelids, allowing her to see, blushing softly, her bashfulness returning as she wiped her fingers off on her shirt.
"Give'em a kiss, honey. Enjoy yourself?"
She could only smile and blush, her face still smeared with his cum as she leaned forward and planted her lips against his balls, giving them a wet, affectionate kiss before drawing herself back, nodding, "very much!" she admitted, standing up.
William located his trousers and underwear, putting them back on. He then touched his fingers to his lips and gently tapped Yumi's face, avoiding any cum-covered areas. She just laughed and playfully pushed his hand away.
"You did a great job, Ms. Bunny," he said, retrieving his phone and opening a messenger application. He entered her name as 'MsBunny' and held the code out for her to scan. Yumi pondered, staring at him suspiciously, before looking at his phone.
"Will isn't your real name, is it?" she inquired, and he shook his head. Maintaining anonymity had numerous perks. Picking up her phone with a pink case, she friended him on the app. Neither of them had avatars, both using pseudonyms.
"I'll see you next time, cutie. Try to get some rest," he said, smiling affectionately while squeezing her heart-shaped bottom. After a farewell smack, he departed.
Alone in her room, thoughts swimming through her mind, Yumi picked up her phone and entered the bathroom.
She seemed like a slut.
Her black, silky hair with white cum stains was evident, her face covered in his semen, and she still wore a top but her black silk panties displayed her heart-shaped backside and toned legs. Could classmates imagine this timid, shy, ultra-conservative foreign girl participating in this? The girl who blushed crimson when spoken to during lectures. The girl satisfying a guy like that?
She grinned. She enjoyed it.
oOo
"Sigh, here they come again! And there's another couple now!"
Amy's criticism drew Yumi away from her daydream as she glanced up from her cafeteria plate and towards her friend, who scrutinized - yes, the same table. This time, another couple had joined the trio: a typical white male and his partner, a short, dyed-brown-haired Asian who clutched his hand.
Yumi's back tingled.
Regaining focus on her food, Yumi hummed in response to Amy's critique.
"They're in love, I suppose."
Amy scoffed, "I bet she fetishizes him. Sluts."
Will's voice reverberated in Yumi's head, commanding her to make a particular expression, and his satisfaction was so intense it led to his climax. Yumi had obeyed, and it had felt pleasurable. There's nothing lesser about her. If anything, hearing her friend's opinion, feeling her conviction, Yumi possessed this secret. What would Amy think if she found out? How would Yumi respond when faced with her friend's betrayal?
She considered for a moment and decided on a simple shrug, a faint nod, and a confession that yes, she'd been in the country for merely three months, but they'd captivated her.
Chuckling and interacting with her friends in the cafeteria, Yumi caught Anika's eye. Anika's gaze was different, a hint of recognition as if she could sense Yumi's silence. No words were exchanged as Anika looked at Yumi, then at that group at the table, and back at Yumi again.
They both smiled.
Read also:
- Savoring My Fresh Autonomy! [Ch. 03]
- I Hold Basketball Accountable: Chapter 1
- My Aspiration
- Cooper Abounds with Plenty
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