The lantern light cast a soft, golden hue across their meager hotel room, turning their skin into living art, as if both were covered in shiny golden foil. Jing lay on her back on the dark silk sheets, and her breathing was already quick with anticipation. She was petite and slender, and her small, perky breasts rose and fell with each breath. She also whimpered pathetically from time to time, just to hurry him up, to let him know how she felt waiting, and waiting, and waiting... playing the game he loved so much.
Xi knelt beside her. He was long completely naked, teasing her. She shook in silent desire of his muscular body now painted golden bronze by the warm light. In his right hand, he held a fine calligraphy brush, its tip dipped in rich black ink.
He looked down at her with dark, intense eyes that she loved so much staring into when they were together.
“I want to write my soul on you tonight,” he whispered.
Jing nodded, biting her lower lip and letting out the quiet "ahhha... aaahha...". Xi leaned over her body. She could now see the rough sweaty hair under his armpits and the sweet smell filled her lungs, making her squirm on the sheets. Xi waited and waited, staring at her before he began to paint.
The first cool stroke of the brush made her gasp softly, and then a series of unrestrained loud whimpers followed until he closed her mouth with his rough hand. With masterful precision, he drew the elegant character 魂 — hún — and its bold, flowing lines stretched beautifully across both of her small breasts. The cool ink made her pale pink nipples tighten into hard peaks. She shivered as he filled in the final strokes with slow, deliberate movements, breathing so deeply through his nose that the double streams of his exhale worried her flushed skin.
When he finished, the powerful character “魂” sat perfectly centered on her chest like a sacred mark. Xi stared at his work for a long moment, his cock now rock-hard and throbbing heavily between his legs. The waiting was invariably sweet and hurting. She felt getting moist between her legs, almost hallucinating that his dick was already inside her, deep red, uneven, rock hard, trembling and oozing right from the start.
"Ah, Xi... please..."
“You have no idea how beautiful you look right now,” he said, voice thick with desire.
He moved over her, straddling her ribcage, heavy and light in a strange way, half hovering over her half letting her feel his discipline, his cool, the rough hair on the back of his legs, the weight, the sweet weight of him she longed for.
Jing looked up at him, flushed and eager.
"Take me, squeeze me," she moaned.
Xi took her small, soft breasts in his strong hands and pressed them together around his thick, dark and venous cock as he had done on so many occasions before. But each time the sight was breathtaking as this thick though short monster slid between her pale tits, with or without the bold black calligraphy anywhere on her small body.
He groaned deeply in response to her almost inaudible whimpers as he began to thrust. The feeling was exquisite as always and he closed his eyes. . Her breasts were so soft and yielding, enveloping his hardness perfectly. Every time he pushed forward, the swollen head of his cock emerged from between them, brushing against her collarbone and leaving shiny streaks of precum across the ink.
The character “魂” slowly began to smudge under the heat and friction, becoming even more erotic as it mixed with his precum that was now oozing - clear and fragrant - with almost every thrust. Thick threads of the sticky precum stuck to his peehole, and doubled, tripled, quadrupled as he pushed and pushed.
Xi was shaking now. His muscular thighs trembled on either side of her body as he fought to control himself, wanting to prolong the pleasure. He felt she was oozing and that her slight pale hand now clutched her pussy. Every excited swipe she made forced her to exhale sharply between whimpers. In response he gripped her breasts tighter, squeezing the soft flesh around his cock, completely lost in the sensation. Jing reached up and placed her hands over his, helping him press them even closer together.
“You’re shaking so much,” she whispered tenderly, her voice full of affection and lust.
“I can’t stop,” he groaned, hips moving faster. “You feel too good… looking at my soul on your body while I fuck your tits… it’s driving me crazy.”
He had always spoken like a machine, Jing thought. Like lines from a bad erotic story. It was beyond him to show weakness or vulnerability.
His thrusts grew more urgent, and the wet sounds of skin against skin filled the quiet room. Jing watched in fascination as his thick cock slid between her pale breasts, the black ink smearing beautifully with every stroke. She could feel how violently he was throbbing, how desperately close he was.
When he neared his peak, Xi’s breathing always turned into ragged gasps. His strong hands kneaded her soft tits mercilessly as he fucked them harder, eyes fixed on the lewd, artistic sight beneath him. Jing knew better than to wince in pain although his fingers now hurt, hurt, hurt, oh what a feeling, Xi, baby, yes, yes, but can you be softer, baby-y-y-y-y-y-y-y...
With a deep, broken moan, he finally came. A single powerful arc of pearly cum erupted from his cock, painting her chest and the ruined character “魂.” Some landed on her neck and chin as he continued thrusting through his orgasm, trembling uncontrollably. The contrast of his white seed against her pale skin and the black ink was stunning.
"You are on my soul," she whispered to him but he didn't hear.
When the last spasm finally faded, Xi collapsed forward, catching himself on his forearms. He finally opened his eyes and looked down at her cum-covered breasts, the beautifully destroyed calligraphy, and let out a shaky, reverent breath.
Jing smiled up at him, her eyes shining with love. She reached up, pulled him down, and kissed him deeply, their bodies pressed together — ink, cum, sweat, and pure devotion mixing between them.“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, and convulsed as she always did from the heaviness of his body, the hot wetness of his cock, and the realization that her small being could make him shake with passion--time and over again, no matter where their travels took them.
She loved the feeling of his cock getting softer, and she adored the view - a tiny black button with a long hood of foreskin and a drop of cum nestled between the folds. She loved cupping his tiny dick and balls with her hand, and unraveling again remembering the thick log that pounded her chest. And again, thinking that he was her man. And again because he now breathed peacefully, clutched her up close and sweated profusely. And again, because she licked the drops of sweat from his forehead and kissed his thick lips with it.
Fuck, the sheets are all in ink. The character is now unreadable, but let me rub some of the ink into him, she thought. Plus cum, heh. Ah, darling.
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