Book Sales

‘Excuse me sir?’

I turned around in the bookstore to see a lady not older than me, looking all excited after spotting me with the book I just paid for. Dressed in a white, off-shoulder blouse and black bodycon skirt, I thought she was just a random customer and I bore a wary mind when I responded to her call.


‘Do you know the author of that book?’

‘Umm.. Not really. But I like how I can relate to.. her words.’

‘I see! Cause I am that writer!’

Just like most books I have read, her picture was really at the back of the book cover, looking all artistic in black and white, but is certainly the girl speaking to me. After we strike up a half-fluent conversation, she actually offered to accompany me back to my hotel where a complimentary dim sum buffet lunch was on, and kept talking non-stop for the whole journey.

As if I was the first person to buy her book, she was all ears for my perception of ‘life’ and ’emoticas’, a genre which happened to be her favourite topic to write on. At the end of what seemed to be the most ‘breathless’ lunch, we finally split ways and I took the rest of the noon to read my new purchase.

At night, at around 10pm, a knock came through my door and the room service trolley was parked right outside, in front of Wen whom I thought our ‘business’ was over.


She happily pushed the cart into my room without asking and gave me a culture shock to the friendliness of the locals she represented.

‘Help me understand this.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You are the most enthusiastic person I’ve met here.’

‘Ohhh! Cause.. Cause I want to thank you!’

‘No. That’s not it. I can tell. You don’t have anyone that thinks like you, and you find it hard to talk to anyone else. Right?’

‘Wow. You are.. Very straightforward.’

She sat on my bed and poured herself a glass of wine, taking a big sip before clearing her throat to confirm my guess at her extreme hospitable spirits. And yes, it is definitely hard to find someone who puts so much thoughts into emotions, and an even rarer find for someone who showed no signs of ulterior motives besides just chatting.

After learning how she had to sleep with the boss of a publication company to get one hundred copies of her book printed, it was then I realised the harsh reality (and competition) of their local literature scene.

With the aid of wine and open-hearted talk, we quickly got very comfortable with each other. What appeared too fantastical to be true happened when she fell backwards onto the bed, thereafter pulling me along and stared at me with her drowsy eyes.

(Wen whispered) ‘You are really special.’

The kiss came onto my lips without warning and we started making out at an increasing intensity, stripping each other’s clothes off as things got heated. Her flawless back was irresistible to stop touching, and her careful caress of my rising manhood was too sensual to not get hard to.

To have a witty, hardworking, ambitious author climbing all over me, it was truly something I wouldn’t even dream about. The way she kissed down my chest, was alluring in the sense that I could feel her loneliness through her passion, and sadness from the speed of our progress.

Unable to let her pour such emotions out onto me anymore, I flipped her onto her back and left a trail of kisses down her belly, till I came into contact with her beautifully shaved pussy. Feasting like a beast, I let my tongue wild on her clit, flicking, sucking, circling to the point she was trembling in more pleasure than sensitivity.

We switched to the 69 position at her request and the rest was an intimate connection of our genitals under the mercy of our lips, taking no breaks until ten minutes later, where she received an orgasm.

Returning to my side proper, we continued making out while she pumped her fist at my erection, occasionally adding saliva to ease the gradual friction. At that point, there was nothing more than to be in arms filled with love, the special kind for a one-night-stand like that night.

Slowly picking up speed, I whispered a gentle warning to her and she tightened her grip, jerking me till hot cum launched into the air like fireworks, coating her fingers and providing more ‘lubricant’ for after-ejaculation-teasing.

(While I panted) ‘That was good! And crazy as hell.’

‘I agree!’

To my surprise, she brought her head to my groin and licked everything up, as cleanly as she could get me before climbing over my belly to my horrified expression.

(Wen asked) ‘Are you worried?’

‘No? But I just came!’

‘Then we will take all the time we need.’

The instant I felt my tip touch the soft flesh of her pussy, my mind did the rest of the imagining and got me up within three minutes. Piercing directly into her as I got hard, her impatience got the better of her once she started riding me. Rocking her hips skilfully back and forth, it was joyful to just watch her fuck ‘herself’, albeit with my contribution of a body part.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed and things only got wilder. From rocking, to sliding, to bouncing in a squatting pose, I was left groaning and struggling under her weight. As much as I wished I had an eternal erection to enjoy her intimate love hole, there wasn’t much say on my part except to notify her when my second load was peaking.


She jumped off at my first squirt (that missed) and sat on my lap, using one hand to finish me off while she masturbated herself with the other. All said, it was a fast game when our bodies heightened and collapsed quickly. Whatever little cum caught in her hand was slurped up and we couldn’t summon any more strength to even talk.

What happened after that was a fuzz until we woke up the next morning, sleeping on each other’s arms with our destinies intertwined and interlocked.

That was a very good example of ‘生米煮成熟饭’, which meant ‘what done was done (sexually)’. Guess who came back to Singapore with me? An author with twenty copies of her book I sold out within six hours of my arrival.

Yay! More sex!

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