A Date with Hitomi Tanaka

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I couldn’t believe the day was finally here. When I was contacted, I’d found it so hard to believe. “You’ve been randomly selected to go on a date and more with adult star Hitomi Tanaka.”

Hitomi fucking Tanaka.

I occasionally wonder to myself, while masturbating, who has caused me to cum the most over the years. I assume it’s Nicki Minaj, that delicious fat ass and absolutely fantastic cock tease personality practically makes me rip my pants off the moment I merely think of it.

Limiting myself to pornstars however, I’d have to say it’s most likely Hitomi Tanaka. Those gigantic tits were like heroin, I couldn’t give them up. Monster tits aren’t even my thing; I don’t think they’re attractive at all on most women. But Hitomi’s are just….hnnng.

Details were limited. I was to go to a dinner party with Hitomi, and fuck if I was going to complain about the lack of reasoning as to why, or how, I was selected.

Plus, that was that special little extra detail…”and more.” What could it entail? Oh god, could there actually be a chance I get to…fuck, do anything sexual with her?! Thinking about it was driving me crazy, what the fuck would I do in real life? What could it mean? I’d be happy if I just got to touch her tits, fuck, seeing them bounce up and down in my hands would make my year.

But what if there was more? What if, my god, what if it was some sort of experimental prize selection; what if she lets me fuck her tits and they see how long some average America Joe can last under that tremendous torture? What if…even better, what if it’s like that, but I can fuck her however I please. My cock was diamonds just imagining it.

It’s at this point I should mention how much I love to tease myself. I often like to edge for hours on end, and finally letting lose shots of cum that bring me to my knees. Occasionally, I even don’t allow myself to cum afterwards, and eventually a day or so later, after several denied edges, I let loose a tremendous orgasm that rocks me to my core.

To prepare for whatever Hitomi had in store for me, I teased myself for an entire week. I constantly watched her videos, stared at pictures of those magnificent breasts, and even dreamed of fucking her. It was delicious torture, and on the fifth night I woke up fucking my hand, seconds away from cumming. But I held back, somehow. It was all for her. I had no idea if she’d even acknowledge the fact that I had a cock, but I was sure of one thing. I’d be filled to the brim and absolutely bursting while in her presence, and I would love it.

But indeed, here we return to the day at hand. I’d been hard all day, and it hurt. Almost all day was spent contemplating cumming; I was afraid the second I saw the woman…or the tits, of my dreams, I would just instantly lose all control and ruin my pants.

Nevertheless, I held strong, and oh god, here was a limo pulling bahis firmaları up to my house. A chauffeur introduced himself, and announced that we were running slightly late and needed to make haste. I hurried into the back of the car, and was a mixture of relieved and disappointed to find I was alone.

Disappointed, because well fuck, I wanted to see her already.

Relieved, because frankly I was growing more and more concerned that my overfilled balls were becoming closer by the minute to erupting, and the prospect for being alone in the back of a limo with Hitomi Tanaka almost seemed too much. I hoped that during the ride I’d be able to calm down, at least slightly.

The ride wasn’t long, and despite part of me knowing I needed to calm down, I couldn’t stop myself from spending the whole time visualizing those humongous, heaving, goddess breasts suffocating my cock between them. Exploding while trapped among them, shooting upward and splatting her surprisingly cute face, and…fuck. My toes were curing, and my balls were drawing up. I was about to burst in my pants from nothing but a damn fantasy. I threw my hands to my sides, and breathed deeply. Calm down, calm down damn it. I finally did, but at what costs? How was I possibly going to make myself stay in control when seeing the woman herself? To make matters worse, we had arrived.

The chauffeur escorted me up some stairs, and into a lobby filled with a rowdy crowd. Gorgeous women and well dressed men scattered about talking among themselves, and almost no one seemed to even notice my arrival.

No one, except the most breathtaking, stacked, embodiment of Aphrodite in yellow goddess form herself, Hitomi Tanaka. She was standing right in front of me, and she smiled a large, adorable smile. I shivered from head to toe.

She was wearing a stunning black dress, and…fuck. The cleavage. I can’t focus to describe anything but the fucking cleavage. People fawn over the ridiculous displays put on at red carpets by Christina Hendricks, or Kat Dennings, but this was a whole new level. I swear it never ended. There was more cleavage than 99% of women ever born have tits. She had on a silver heart necklace that fell down, down in between that delicious valley in which I wanted to bury myself and never return.

I starred shamelessly. There was no stopping it.

“David?” I heard, in the cutest accent.

My eyes shot up, and I saw recognition in hers, the knowing look of a woman who knew exactly the effect she had on everyone around her, and who was unashamed to be proud of it.

“What a pleasure it is to finally meet you”

The accent made me want to melt. Her body did. How I managed to contain myself, when she stepped forward, threw her arms around me in a hug, kissed my cheek, and pressed those monstrous breasts into my chest, I have no idea.

Perhaps the close call kaçak iddaa in the limo had settled me more than I realized, I thought, growing almost proud of my apparent new found self control.

This changed more abruptly than I ever would have thought however, when she pulled away.

“You like my dress?” she asked, and spun around showing off that magnificent form. What made matters the worst however, was when after asking, she crossed her arms across her chest and squeezed those tits together, creating a sight I couldn’t believe I was experiencing in person.

I shuddered as I felt an abnormally large amount of precum leak into my pants.

“They look- err, y-you look so nice Hitomi, it’s an honor to meet you” I practically moaned.

She grinned an all knowing look at me, and eyed me up and down. I swear she could see through my pants, I swear she could sense the bursting volcano inside. She stepped forward again, and whispered into my ear.

“Please try to control yourself, the night’s just getting started. Come. Follow me, I’ve been waiting to eat until you arrived”

Her breath on my ear turned me to putty, and I couldn’t help myself from gasping out loud. I bit my lip, and fought with ally my power to keep my loins under control.

Her eyes trailed down my body, seeming to linger a little too long on the undeniable bulge, and she finally let her hand follow the same path, her index finger trailing down my stomach to my pants and circling around the fabric desperate to contain my impossibly hard erection, before finally moving her hand, and placing it into mine.

“Ah-” I breathlessly gasped at her touch.

She giggled, and caressed my hand as I tensed my body in a ridiculous effort to hold steady the leaking dam of my balls.

I refused to let myself be so shameless manipulated, by Hitomi Tanaka notwithstanding, and smiled at her and walked with her to a dinning room.

She shoved me into the far end of a booth, and slid in next to me.

A waiter came by, and we ordered food, but I can remember nothing that was said. Every fragment of my mind and body was focused on the ridiculous breasts pressing into my side, and of the increasingly cruel, teasing, yellow queen to which they were attached.

She’d ask me questions; was I a big fan, did I watch her videos, how often, which were my favorite? She talked and laughed and with every laugh she bounced and bounced and oh god the bouncing.

I couldn’t look anywhere else, and she knew, and exaggerated every movement to tease me even more, and the molten hot iron rod in my pants begged for attention, and I squirmed, and I cursed myself for the week of denial.

“You’re so cute when you’re nervous. If anything would help relieve you, feel free to just let loose” she teased.

My god, I was aching to explode for hours, but the prospect of Hitomi Tanaka actually kaçak bahis acknowledging, of encouraging me to cum in my pants was too much.

No! It wouldn’t be too much. My body was tensed up, and I grasped the table. The tell tale boiling was at it’s peak, a mere fingertip could push me over the edge, but I would will it down. I wouldn’t let my cock be controlled.

“I-I’m fine” I manged to squeak out.

Just then, the waiter returned with our food, and I gasped, suddenly full of hope that perhaps distracted by food I’d be free from her torment for a short while. I had to use this precious time to relax as much as possible, who knew what she had in store for me next.

And that’s when I heard it. A fork hitting the ground at my feet.

“Oops” Hitomi giggled.

“I’ll ge-” I began to say, but it was too late.

My buxom Asian tormentor was leaning over my lap, over my aching, surely full of the largest load they’ve ever produced, balls; over my unimaginably rigid cock. Time stopped.

“I-I can’t reach” she almost seemed to moan, for the first time sounding like a true pornstar and less like a cute, but incredibly physically blessed, Asian girl.

Finally, sweet disaster. She leaned over more “to get the fork”, but I have no doubt in my mind that it was all just the final part of her mind numbing tease. Her mammoth tits had been swaying over my lap, but now they pressed into me, perfectly, sandwiching my cock in between.

“I still can’t get it!” she pouted, and fidgeted back and forth.

It was heaven. It was hell. It was pure delicious torment, and at last I could take it no longer. I bit my lip, I curled my toes, my whole body tensed, and the cum rose up and through me faster and more powerfully than I could have ever imagined.

The first shot shook me to the core, and I have no idea how many followed. I was busy practically convulsing, and moaning uncontrollable, much more loudly than I ever would have liked in a public place.

The only thing that mattered was that Hitomi Tanaka’s tits were wrapped around my dick, pants were irrelevant, they were so heavily I might as well have been nude, and I was soaking myself so greatly there was no doubt she had to have felt it.

She showed no signs of caring however, and from the moment I’d let out my first and loudest moan, she’d been slowly rubbing her giant gifts up and down my length. She was milking me to the core, and the release of the week long denial, forced out of me by the most describable woman I’d ever seen in person, felt immensely better than any real sex I’d ever had.

The convulsions finally stopped, and Hitomi finally sat up, fork in hand.

“Found it!” she exclaimed merrily.

She grinned a knowing grin, but looked down at my lap anyway.

“What happened here?”

As she asked, she reached over, and grasped the wet spot with her dainty little hand.

I gasped again, for the hundredth time that night. She just didn’t stop, she was a true fiend for cock. This had to be heaven. I was still hard, and I got the feeling we wouldn’t be eating our meal.

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