Savannah and I had dinner at the Hotel Azur, but when I thought she wanted to head out to a well-known local nightclub, she surprised me again.
"Harry ... would you be upset if we stayed here tonight? I would really like to get to know you better, and I can't think of a better way than if we go up to my room and ... talk."
The implication was obvious. Mrs. Zheng didn't raise any stupid kids, so naturally, I did the only responsible thing.
"Should I get some condoms first?"
She laughed out loud. "No ... I don't think so. Besides, after this afternoon it's a little late for that, isn't it?"
I was embarrassed, as I should have been. I could have killed the whole mood and maybe put an end to the evening. Fortunately, Vannie's effervescent attitude and ever-present smile was reassurance enough that I hadn't ruined my chances.
I signed the bill and we left for the elevator and Vannie's room.
We did talk. Quite a bit actually. Not all of it was coherent though.
During my college years, I learned that women usually wanted foreplay before having sex. My "teacher," an attractive older woman from Korea, had worked for several years to save enough money for college. We had our heritage in common, but our size was quite different. She was very short to go with my unusual height, but we didn't mind being a bit of an odd couple; me being a head-and-a-half taller than her.
Her name was Wendy Kim, and I credit her with introducing me to what I needed to know about making love to a woman. She had the experience, and I had the youthful enthusiasm and stamina. We were a very good couple for two years until I graduated. We never expected to remain together, so when it was over I moved on to my career and she continued with her senior year.
Vannie welcomed me to her room by closing the door and turning into my arms immediately.
"I'm just as horny now as I was this afternoon, Harry. You have some kind of power over me, and you can do anything you want with me. I'm yours for as long as you want me," she murmured in a seductive growl.
I began by kissing her passionately, then slowly, very slowly, undressing her. Although I had seen her this afternoon in an almost naked state, I was again mesmerized by her. I don't really remember taking my own clothes off, but somehow they were gone as we tumbled onto the bed.
A naked Vannie is a sight to behold. Although very tall, she is beautifully proportioned, even a bit larger than life. Her incredible ass is fastened securely to wondrously wide hips, atop long, tapered thighs, perfectly flared calves and delicate feet. Her breasts are large with upward pointed nipples balanced below her wide shoulders. Everything about her is big, and yet not out of scale.
For a man my size, she was exactly what I would fantasize as an ideal woman. Two years on that ship had made me very fit. The tiny onboard exercise cabin had been my only refuge from work. I would soon discover that my fitness and endurance was going to be important, and happily in that regard, we were a perfect physical match.
I kissed my way down her body, lingering on her breasts before gradually moving toward her hairless mons. She spread her legs, willingly inviting me to her already moist center. I began slowly, gently using my thumbs to separate her labia and using only the tip of my tongue to torment her. Her hips rose and swayed with my deliberate moves. I could hear Vannie grunt and groan, exclaiming the effect I was having on her.
Her hands moved to the back of my head, attempting to pull me even closer into her sex. I had not yet touched or explored her clit, but that was coming soon. I drew back briefly to see that it had become enlarged and prominent. I stroked it gently, first with my finger, then with my tongue. Vannie exploded beneath me.
"Oh ... God! Harry ... please! Oh God!" I was about to move up when her back arched and she went completely rigid for at least five seconds before collapsing back on the bed. She shook with what I thought were convulsions two or three times before I saw her gasping for breath.
"Are you all right, Vannie?" I asked, worried she had possible had a fit of some kind.
"Yes. Oh, God ... Harry." She was still gasping for air as I rose to make sure she was not in trouble.
Gradually, she became a bit calmer and her breathing became more regular, but still rapid.
"What happened?" I asked, tentatively.
She looked at me in surprise. "What do you mean, what happened? That was the mother of all orgasms, Harry, that's all."
Her eyes were wide and she was still breathing heavily, but the smile on her face grew. She grabbed me and pulled me up to her for a long, soul-searching kiss.
"I've got you now, Harry. I'm never going to let you go, you know. You're my prisoner forever," she gasped, still slightly out of breath.
"Vannie ... we haven't even got started yet. Are you sure you're up to this?"
"Try me!" she challenged.
I did. There is something about making love to a powerful woman. She is your physical equal in many respects, and her expectations are very high. At least Vannie's were. As I said earlier, my fitness would become important to me ... and her.
We made love, or had sex, or just fucked, for who knows how long. We were in a continuous process, moving from one position to another, with brief rests to allow one of us to recover from an orgasm before moving on. Vannie had a series of her rigid/convulsive orgasms, only one of which rivaled the very first, but still very pronounced. I never had any doubt when it was happening, and while it took some getting-used-to, I began to accept that it was a natural occurrence for her.
At some point, we called a halt and lay back on the cool, sweat-soaked sheets. I was wide awake despite all the physical demands I had put on myself. I had never encountered a woman as dynamic and sexually aggressive as Savannah Wilson. On the other hand, I got the impression she hadn't had a partner that could keep up with her for some time, if ever. It was good for my ego, even though it had already been boosted very nicely just by being around this woman.
"Harry."
"Hmmmm."
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"Huh! No ... I don't think so. I'm not sure. I suppose it's possible."
"Oh." There was a hint of disappointment in her voice. I rolled toward her.
"Vannie, we just met a few hours ago. Aren't you jumping the gun a bit?"
She rolled toward me. "Maybe. Maybe not. There's something happening here. That dream of yours. It drew you to me. Then, when you thought you were saving me, you ... you really looked relieved. Like you were frightened for me.
"I wanted you, Harry. I wanted you from the moment we went for that walk in Ste. Maxime. You were all I could think about, even when I was in that business meeting. I'm sure those women could smell the arousal on me. I was dripping, just thinking about you. I think you helped me make that sale. You just didn't know it," she grinned.
My face must have been a question mark.
"I smelled like a horny woman and that's the scent you want a certain type of perfume to suggest. Maybe a bit more subtle, but sex is what perfume is all about. I was selling sex and I'm sure those women buyers could tell."
"Do I get a commission?" I joked.
"You already have." She was smiling and she was right. "From now on, you're my faithful assistant, preparing me for the big sales. I can't miss with you by my side."
We lay there for a while, quietly relaxing. Her question about love at first sight had been disconcerting. Was she telling me something more than I wanted to hear? It was definitely too soon for me, wasn't it? I had no idea what being in love was all about. Not yet anyway ... but I was curious.
"Vannie, have you ever been in love?"
"No. Well, not until today," she smiled.
"That's lust, Vannie. You don't want to confuse the two."
"Don't tell me what I feel!" She was rising up on her elbow with an indignant look.
"OK ... OK ... but ... you have to admit ... you are making a big leap in a very short time." I said it in what I hoped was a conciliatory tone.
She looked at me sternly, then a small smile crept onto her lips. "The whole idea scares you, doesn't it?"
"A bit. What makes you think that you might be in love?"
"I don't know if I am or not. I've got this funny feeling about you and me. I can't explain it. I've been wandering around in my short life without any real sense of direction. I went to school and then to college and then I got this job and then ... and then ... I met you. Nothing really mattered ... until now."
She had a strange look, almost surprised, or perhaps confused. This wasn't the frivolous topic I thought it was. She really was wondering what was happening to her.
"Talk to me, Vannie. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about growing up in Naples."
"I didn't grow up in Naples. I was born in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and went to grade school there. My dad joined the Canadian Navy and he did really well. He got assigned to a NATO base in Europe for a while and became an expert in submarine detection. Later on, he left the Navy and got a job in Connecticut working for Westinghouse. I guess they used his knowledge to build better anti-detection equipment or something. He never said.
"Anyway, he retired at fifty-five and moved to Naples with Mom, my brother and me. We both went to high school there, and I went to Southwest Florida College. My brother is a brainiac and went to Georgia Tech on a scholarship. He's an electrical engineer and lives in Dallas now. Still not married and he's almost thirty."
"I'm twenty-eight and still not married," I said with a grin.
"I'm twenty-five and still not married. The clock is ticking," she said with an arched eyebrow.
She seemed to be in a hurry for no good reason, I thought. "No rush. I only intend to get married once. I want what my parents have ... had. There wasn't any doubt they were happy together, and together for life."
"Me too. When Dad died, I thought Mom might too. They were so close for so long. She's OK now, but I know it still hurts and I worry there won't be anyone else for her. She has some friends, but so far no one that might replace Dad."
"So, both of us want the same thing ... what our parents had. I think that has a big influence on who you marry, don't you?"
