Their room in the capital city hotel was spacious and light, but Xi wouldn't stop until every little source of summer light outside was blocked--with curtains, blankets, even bed sheets. After he did his incense stick magic, the air in the room was thick with the scent of aged sandalwood and fresh ink.
A single paper lantern cast a warm, amber glow over Jing’s naked body as she knelt obediently on the large velvet ottoman, draped beautifully over the wide, rounded armrest of the massive antique armchair. Her back was deeply arched, pushing her firm ass upward like an offering. The position left her completely exposed — vulnerable, elegant, and utterly his. She was crying quietly now because he had made her stay in this position for several long hours as he busied himself with preparations, and then just sat there in the second armchair watching her and touching the tip of his foreskin gently each time he felt like jumping up and taking her hungrily. His dick trembled and shook, buzzed inside with endless lust for Jing's dark folds but he made himself say "patience" times and over again.
"Patience," he would sometimes intone outloud to offer Jing some consolation, to tell her that the pleasure was coming, but not before it was time in his head, before he truly couldn't wait one more second. He felt like someone carrying a huge weight he was about to drop but managed one step after another... further and further...
"Now the paint," Xi said quietly but in the sharp corners of the room the bitter echo picked up each syllable, amplified it, and threw it on Jing's face, her tits squished against the armrest, and she winced silently.
Xi knelt behind her, bare-chested, his muscular thighs straddling her calves. In his right hand, he held the fine calligraphy brush, its tip heavy with glossy black ink. He paused for a moment, admiring the smooth, pale canvas of her lower back. Then, with slow, deliberate strokes, he began to paint.
The first touch of the cool brush made Jing inhale sharply. The ink felt shockingly cold against her warm skin as Xi drew the powerful character 忍 — rěn — “patience.” Each stroke was sensual and precise. The brush glided across the delicate dip of her spine, then curved gracefully over the swell of her ass. Jing shivered uncontrollably as the wet ink traced her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. The sharp, earthy scent of the ink filled her senses.
When he finished the final bold stroke, Xi set the brush aside and simply stared. The elegant, commanding character “忍” now adorned her lower back like a sacred tattoo, slightly dripping at the edges. The sight made his cock throb painfully between his legs. He knew, from years of experience with his lovely obedient Jing, that she felt his cock twitch even when he was meters away.
“Perfect,” he breathed, voice rough with lust.
He rose behind her, gripping his thick, heavy cock. Without warning, he dragged the swollen head through her soaked folds, coating himself in her slick arousal. Jing whimpered at the teasing pressure. He teased her again and again until she trembled and cried out "ay! ay!" in that silvery tone he loved, beautiful and fragile, yet still dignified.
To tell the truth, Xi had a hard time waiting when he was erect. His dick felt impossibly heavy, straining the foreskin, pushing the cavernous bodies with the stream of hot blood until they felt like metal rods and he usually shook violently from the mere thought of plunging deep inside the waiting cavern of Jing's hot pussy. But. On. The. Day. of. Patience. He. Had. To. Wait.
Then in one smooth, powerful motion, Xi pushed forward and buried himself deep inside her.
A broken loud moan tore from her throat. To her, he felt impossibly thick at this angle, stretching her wide open as he sank to the hilt. He knew she loved it when he rubbed his thick sweaty pubes on her ass, and that's what he did every time, waiting for her to respond by clutching her butt cheeks closer together. In response, Xi groaned deeply, his fingers digging into her soft hips as he began to fuck her with long, deliberate strokes. The wet, obscene sound of his cock sliding into her soaked pussy filled the room. Slurp - grrah - ay! ay! - sluuuuuurp - ay mama! - another short growl from him, and so it went, changing little from one friction to the next yet somehow different every time.
After a few moments, his large hand slid up her spine, fingers tangling in her hair. He pushed her head down firmly, pressing her cheek against the velvet cushion of the armchair. Jing moaned louder, the submissive position making her even wetter. Her face was half-buried in the soft fabric as Xi began fucking her harder, his hips slapping rhythmically against her ass.The painted character “忍” on her lower back flexed and moved with every powerful thrust. To him even the strokes of this character reminded him of a man with a hard dick waiting patiently at the entrance to his woman's paradise. For so many minutes before these first blissful thrusts that character was him. It was her. It was patience.
Now came the turn of another kind of patience--not to unravel before the body shed all the energy of movement, at all angles, until he could hear every note of the scale in her wild moans, until she was so wet it trickled down his dick, until his hardness couldn't feel anymore...
Sweat made the ink glisten. Xi stared down at it, mesmerized, his grip tightening in her hair as he drove into her again and again. The armchair creaked beneath them. Jing’s moans were muffled against the cushion, her fingers clawing at the fabric as pleasure overwhelmed her.
"Patience, girl," he said, sounding as if he were in the briefing room meeting with the press after a show. She loved that contrast, so in response she wailed pathetically and wriggled her butt.
He leaned forward, pressing his muscular chest against her back, the new angle letting him fuck her even deeper. Jing cried out, her body trembling as his heavy balls slapped against her clit with every thrust. The scent of sex, sweat, and ink hung thick in the air.
Xi could hardly catch his breath now. His hand remained firm on the back of her head, holding her exactly where he wanted her as he fucked her with deep, possessive strokes. Every time he bottomed out, her small body jolted forward against the armrest. Her pussy fluttered and clenched around him, pulling him deeper.
When her orgasm finally crashed over her, Jing screamed into the cushion, her walls pulsing violently around his cock. It was finally a signal for his endless patience to finally yield. The thought of it pushed Xi over the edge. With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard, flooding her with four thick, hot spurts of cum. His hips jerked uncontrollably as he emptied himself inside her, trembling with the intensity of his release.
Now came the time for patient waiting for the aftershocks. They were coming, they were coming, first for her, then for him--in panting darkness they felt like bolts of lightning, like electric shocks deep inside his wet and heavy cock and her slick pussy. She knew it started like a tight flower opening after the rain and then tickled and tickled until she could no longer shake, and just collapsed. He knew his would climb up and down his urethra and make his balls ache pleasantly and deeply. At that moment he grabbed her and pressed her little body to his frame, slickness to wetness, big soft nipples to rock-hard small ones, his chest hair to the smooth cream of his skin, and they rolled the waves together, endless, catching their breath, finding impossible angles for last bolts of pleasure...
For a long moment after the last aftershock died, they stayed together, panting. Xi slowly released her hair and stroked her back tenderly, right over the slightly smudged character “忍.” He then leaned down and pressed soft, reverent kisses along her spine, tasting the faint bitterness of ink mixed with the salt of her skin.
“You were so good for me,” he whispered against her back, voice hoarse with emotion. “My patient, beautiful girl.”
Jing turned her head slightly to show him her flushed cheeks and the eyes still glassy with wild, animal satisfaction. A soft, blissful smile curved her lips.
“I love belonging to you like this,” she breathed.
Xi kissed the back of her neck tenderly. After such a long bout of patience he needed a smoke. Naked, on the balcony, trembling in the cold wind. Even after such explosive moments he knew he was going to get hard smoking and thinking of her sleeping naked inside. Soon there would be a splat of almost watery cumshot on the balcony next to the still smoking ashtray.
Then night came.
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