Roman Shower

I was sat on the bus, and this stunning oriental girl sat next to me. Man oh man, stunning. Long, black hair, fantastic figure, lovely, curving breasts and thighs – real masturbation material. Normal people on the bus look straight forwards and don’t make eye contact with anyone, but this girl was too beautiful to miss a chance with. A real, once-in-a-lifetime beauty.

But how to make conversation with a random person on the bus? Would it be sensible to talk about politics or current events, with free newspapers on every bus? I don’t know, I thought. I’m treading into specialist grounds there, and how would I even start it? “Oh, Tony Blair didn’t go to Robin Cook’s funeral, but I guess he’s on holiday, and I wouldn’t cut a holiday short to go to a bloody funeral?” No. There’s got to be something worth talking about – something even more unimportant than that.

I took a Rubik’s Cube out of my bag and started twiddling around with it. I caught her eye, and said, “I’ve never been able to do these.”

“Neither have I,” she replied. “I can do a side, though.”

I handed her the Rubik’s cube and she completed a side – the perfect nerdy opener to our relationship.

So we bullshitted for the entire journey, talking about the Big Bang, limestone quarries – pretty much everything. I stand up to get off, and say to her, “listen, it’s been great fun talking to you, and, can I just say, you’re absolutely stunning.”

She blushed, grabbed my hand, and followed me off.

We kissed passionately on the street, and walked arm-in-arm towards my front door. “I feel stupid for saying this, because I hardly know you,” I said, “but would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”

“Yes,” her beautiful mouth replied.

Next thing you know, we’re in the hallway, her on top of me, kissing and groping in the not-particularly-beautiful-to-an-onlooker throngs of sexual excitement. But it was fucking great from my perspective.

Y’know when you’re kissing a girl, and you’re really turned on, and you’re worried that she can feel your erection through your pants? No worries here – she started dry-humping me, rubbing herself against my penis. This was far more enjoyable than it sounds, especially when you have a beautiful oriental girl’s breast in your hand. It was a fucking fine breast as well, supple and firm, her nipple hard like a bullet.

She took her t-shirt off and her bra, and I stared in awe at her fantastic shape. Her skin, a warm, rich bronze, was toned beautifully. Her slim figure accentuated her already big tits. She was fresh out of Heaven.

She pulled her face away from mine briefly, burped, and then returned for more passionate kissing.

Well, that was weird, I thought. Very weird. That’s the first time a girl has ever done that, to my knowledge. Well, fuck it.

She took her face away from mine again and whispered, “do you know what a Roman Shower is?”

Hah, I thought. Why does this always happen to me?

“Yeah,” I said, grinning a little. “Eh, yeah, I do.”

Shove your fingers down my throat,” she ordered.

Well, if I’m with a sexy woman and she starts ordering me to do kinky shit, I’m not going to refuse. I lifted up my hand, stuck out two fingers, and put them in her mouth. She bit them, playfully, with her pearly-white, perfect teeth – almost a Donny Osmond smile. I put them further and further in to her moist mouth, finally reaching the back of her throat.

I poked it testingly, and she retched. I poked it again, a little harder, and felt the warmth of her stomach acid on my fingertips, before it covered my entire hand and sprayed on to my face.

I took my hand out, and she carried on throwing up, in to my mouth, over my eyes, in my hair…

It tasted similar to my own vomit, except for it didn’t burn the back of the throat at all. I gulped it down as she spewed some more.

It burnt my eyes a little. I blinked a few times to get the bile off. A good amount of sick was still dribbling out of her mouth and on to my willing face. She slapped me, probably just to assert dominance, and then hocked up a great deal of spit with vomit-chunks in and spat it on my face too, for good measure.

I licked around my mouth to try and eat as much of her vomit as possible. I felt so low, so much like a slave – all I was worth was eating her sick.

She spat again, and laughed. I laughed too, as she leaned in and embraced me warmly.

I got her number and everything.