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Message-ID: <36642asstr$1022530205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: pierre103@hotmail.com (Pierre)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 27 May 2002 15:21:36 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} My 13th birthday party in Pnom Penh
Date: Mon, 27 May 2002 16:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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In 1990 I was thirteen. My father, now a diplomat assigned to the
United States, was then assigned to Pnom Penh. The country was
recovering from the disaster of the Pol Pot years, it was recapturing
its culture. And, I might add, the sensitive and sexy nature of its
people.

On my thirteenth birthday, my friends arranged a surprise party for
me. They had hired a car and driver and were to take me to a
restaurant somewhere out of the city. They promised a great surprise.
They brought along a western-style birthday cake that someone's family
cook had baked.

We arrived at the "restaurant" -- just a bar, really. We were
expected. The hostess asked who was the birthday boy: I was seated at
the head of the table. Drinks were served; a bit of food. Then the
cake; somebody had brought candles. The hostess beckoned a girl from
the shadows: she seemed not much older than I, when I asked her later
she said she was 19. She wore a bikini.

The happy birthday song was sung. The organizer of the event, my
friend, leaned over, took the hand of the girl from the shadows, put
her hand in mine, and said "here is your surprise!"

The girl unfastened her bra. "Do I please you?" she asked. My friend
said not to worry: this girl's specialty was introducing boys to sex.
I would have a good time.

I was nervous, but I followed the girl to a back room; the party
proceeded without me. The girl, in the best mixed English and French
she could muster, said that I should take my time: she was mine for
the whole day. Meanwhile, her bikini bottoms had disappeared.

As I later learned, the girls at this bar were specialists in oral
sex. The girl proceeded to undress me, all the while saying soothing
things much of which I could not understand. When I was naked, she
told me to sit down next to her. She massaged me all over. She invited
me to look at her body, all over. She even had a speculum and said
that I should look inside her -- that there was nothing to be afraid
of.

Every so often she was caress my penis, fondle my balls. But an
erection escaped me. She placed my hands over her breasts, encouraged
me to fondle her as much as I liked. After a long time of this, she
gently pushed me back on the bed, my legs dangling over the side, and
she spread my legs to make room for her to kneel in front of me.

She began to lick the underside of the tip of my penis, and she kept
this up for a very long time. Somehow, magically, after what must have
been an hour of chatter and fondling, caressing and now licking my
penis, I began to feel blood flowing down there, I had the beginnings
of erection; she smiled. With this she became more aggressive with my
organ, her lips and tongue working especially on the end, but drawing
the whole penis into her mouth, stopping every minute or so to let the
blood flow, my erection stiffen.

Constantly she looked at my eyes, seeking approval and satisfaction.
She massaged the inside of my thighs, ran her tongue around my
scrotum, picked up the pace of fellating me.

She sensed when I was responding to her, and that orgasm was near. She
stopped, and gave me a whole body massage. Then she started again,
kissing just the tip of my penis, licking around the top, running her
tongue along its length. Then taking my penis into her mouth and
raising the tempo: she was strumming me like a violin. She knew that I
was no longer afraid, no longer shy. She began an up and down motion
of her mouth on my penis with a regular cadence that brought me, as
she knew it would, to the brink of orgasm and ejaculation. She sucked
and massaged with lips and tongue, without stopping but working in
harmony with my muscles as I ejaculated into her mouth and as she
consumed all that I gave her.

We arose, and she gave me a sponge bath, and we dressed: she in her
bikini, I in my clothes. We went back to the party in progress: I was
beaming, satisfied, amazed. My friends knew the drill and took it all
for granted. This was my thirteenth birthday and this was a rite
passage of teenage Westerners in this part of the world.


I was not a journalism student, but am the boyfriend of one of them. I
thought my own experience would add some international perspective to
the postings.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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