Disclaimer: As I was about to post this, I was struck by apprehension: Would you, my dear reader, think me conceited for the excess mentioning of my penis throughout this tale? Luckily, this sudden apprehension turned out to be no more than a fleeting mirage, for I realised that any scrutiny about my ego could only ever be a fabrication of another ego.
Don't let the skyscrapers and innovations fool you. The denizens of Singapore are governed, like any other modern nation, by superstitions handed down and natural laws that cannot be seen, but that you can feel if you're able to pay close enough attention. Of course, trying to observe the invisible strings that move our materialistic world is a recipe for self-doubt and strangeness. That is where I come in, or if we're committed to accuracy, is how I came.
It all began during one of my post-dinner walks in the park, when I started noticing more women making the rounds than usual. Young bespectacled girls, in fbts clearly a size too small, walking curious and energetic dogs. Flocks of middle-aged Indian expats in colourful sarees in the corners chatting loudly. Sweating Chinese MILFs brisk walking in their tight home clothes, the light of the lamps drawing passing eyes to run up and down the back of their glazed, pale legs.
As I stopped to rest on a bench, I looked up at the sky and glimpsed that distant and mysterious whiteness through a clearing in the canopy. It looked full, and was so captivating that I kept looking back at it, even with all the action transpiring on the tar tracks. Hell, the fantasies kicked in right there, and I could feel the tension in my pants as I thought about the round butts just casually sauntering around me. Oh, to follow one of these lonely women, maybe escort them to a nice secluded staircase, and really give them a workout...
I snapped out of it. Something across from me demanded my attention. An office lady was seated on the bench on the other side of the track. She was looking right at me. What can you do? I smiled, expecting little miss prim and proper to look away. That would be typical, just a young thing looking for validation. But she held my gaze and returned my smile. Then she slowly lowered her eyes to stare at the bulge that my shorts barely concealed. She bit her lip and squirmed a little, bringing her wonderfully bare knees closer together. Then she got up and toddled off, her heels click clacking. Like nothing happened.
In the old days, this would have been enough to warrant a furious jack off session, multiple open tabs of videos with lookalikes. But I had adopted a new lifestyle; not a drop of cum would I release, not unless it all went into a wet mouth, precious pussy, or tight asshole.
So instead this sad bastard went home and opened up Microsoft Office.
Every subsequent full moon brought fresh data for my spreadsheet; and I quickly began to suspect that when you start observing "natural" and "random" phenomena, the universe suddenly takes an interest in you too. Public transport and the gym were the easiest places to notice things. Women circled men like the primordial Furies, their body language daring. I overheard an Indian girl with nice big tits confiding to a friend about her "need to have a black affair."
It worked both ways, too, and I found myself getting hornier in the days leading up to a full moon. Every woman became of extreme interest to me. I could tell you about the granny who decided to go for a walk as it drizzled in a tight white singlet, no bra, and how she stopped right in front of me and stared. Or my neighbour, another granny from Malaysia, who had watched me grow up. She literally turned around and wiggled her butt at me. And I ogled, eyes roving from her flat Chinese ass to her full cloud of white hair, despite knowing that she was paying close attention. I was ready to go; I would have plunged my cock right into her, right there. I'd never remotely considered her attractive before, but there I was, nothing but quite literally a fucking animal under the blanket of every full moon.
And why shouldn't the moon exert this effect upon us? Does not the moon, in conspiring with the sun, affect the ebbing and subsiding of the tides? Have we not proven beyond a doubt that the moon's light can induce nocturnal animals to hunt, communicate, and mate?Are human beings not 50 to 60 percent water?
On the night of the 13th full moon (no, really), I bumped into Kasevi during my walk. She filled me in on her new job at Prudential as we made our rounds side-by-side. Her perfume was sweet, and made my throat dry. A good seven years younger than me, she nonetheless always had enough makeup on and expertly applied to look like she just stepped off the set of a shoot, or was heading to the best club in town. I was obviously attracted to her, and made no effort to hide my attraction, even when she was attached. But our interactions consisted more of a brother-sister dynamic. In fact, I believed she thought I was lame. But now she was bumping into me, her arms and hips brushing against mine, asking questions that forced me to look at her body more closely, such as Do you think my legs are too skinny? no seriously just look at them, my calves are like, so close to my ass--
I'd heard some wild stories, such as "the GetGo experience", and knew that recently single Kasevi might be in heat. So, looking up at the clear sky, not a cloud around, I boldly told her that it looked like it was going to rain, and suggested we go back to my place. And she actually said yes. Tell me that's not supernatural.
It didn't take long before I was pulling her hair and slapping her dusky brown buttocks as I whispered dirty little nothings into her ear, gently biting on and sucking the multiple gold studs I found there. She played right along and started begging me to cum in her mouth, but something was telling me to hold out. So I told her to lie on the carpet, and I began to drip my saliva all over her pussy, like maple syrup on pancakes. After some exquisite cunnilingus, I turned her around and slowly worked a wet finger into her anus. I can't tell you what it's like to hear a one night stand say that she's never had a finger up there, between soft slutty moans. Soon I had my entire middle finger in, and she was properly loosened up so that I could pump it with a good steady rhythm. I was expecting her to have an anal orgasm, but this seemed like wishful thinking, even with a little clitoral stimulation thrown in. Orgasm or no, she seemed to be really into it, so I relaxed and fell into the hypnotic rhythm. In and out, my slimy finger pushing, slushing in her tightest hole.
Kasevi got worked up enough that when I slipped the full length of my cock into her pussy and bottomed out she came instantly. I figured that was a good time as any for a smoke break.
"I'll give you my cum another time," I promised as I put the lighter down on the desk. As I blew a thick cloud of smoke out the window, I slapped my cock against her wagging tongue. Her ass was hidden in the recess where you stretched your legs or tucked in the chair. My good little puppy girl, all happy from her walk in the park. I stroked her head as she began to move down and lap at my balls, her aroma of sweat and strawberries mingling with that of the smoke.
*
It was 11pm, and I was on the roof enjoying another cigarette. I'd accompanied Kasevi back to her home which was a five minutes' walk from mine. I decided to stop and go up a block of apartments that was in between the two points. I liked the view from the top floor.
I went through the images in my mind as I relished the taste of my smoke: her tight blue jeans, the rouge of her eyes, the way she said my name as I plied into her, over and over and over. Her wet juices like a thousand crystals glistening on my throbbing cock. Good god.
The lift doors opened, and tiny slippered feet stepped out. It was JX. Or JJ. Everybody gave her different acronyms, and she never corrected anyone. To this day I just call her J. Like Kasevi, she was newly single, having broken up with Ethan, who was a mutual acquaintance. A slight thing with glasses, I recalled that she was maybe in her final year of studying to become a nurse. Soft-spoken, a reader with whom I'd had a very interesting chat about our desert island novels, needless to say I wouldn't have minded being a patient in her wing.
So I asked her if she would please feel my lower back, and tell me if she thought I was tense down there. Even though she wasn't a physiotherapist, she immediately assented. I felt the caress and pressing of her slim fingers, and imagined how exquisite they would feel sliding around other parts of my body. Like my shoulder blades, you perverts.
But the nerdy slut just went ahead and cupped my balls from behind.
"Oh, you're so full," in her barely audible deadpan, which I found curiously arousing. I wondered if she went gluck gluck gluck when deepthroating.
