Free The Rose of Singapore by Peter Neville Page A

was sipping hot tea and fantasizing on how she must look stepping from the shower, when suddenly the bathroom door opened and out stepped Lai Ming into the room where he sat. She was wearing a multi-coloured sarong wound around her body and held in place by a fold in the cloth tucked into the cleavage of her bosom, and nothing else. She had not dried herself so that where the sarong did not cover her bareness droplets of water glistened like a million tiny jewels.
    Putting down the teacup, Peter said, “That was quick.” His remark was quite innocent, even in an enquiring voice, but he suddenly felt a surge of sexual excitement within him. Entranced, he could only stare at her.
    Slowly, seductively, she walked to where he sat, and when near him she stopped and stood before him, a gentle smile hovering ever so faintly upon her beautiful face. Lifting a dainty hand, she loosened the fold in the sarong and pulled it free, so that the sarong, with nothing to hold it up, fell from her and dropped in a colourful pile at her feet. Thus she stood before Peter, naked, her hands hanging loosely at her sides as if in complete surrender. “Peter, do you like me?” she asked, quietly, her eyes looking into his.
    Peter, who had never before seen a naked girl in the flesh, could only stare at her in disbelief. He had some idea of what a woman’s body looked like, having seen pictures of them in blurred outlines in the ‘men only’ magazines, but those photographs showed only the women’s breasts, nothing else. He had never seen a woman’s vagina, not even in a photograph. Magazines did not show that part of the female anatomy in 1952, nor had there been forms of pornography from which to learn, not with his upbringing. And promiscuity, especially among younger people, was rare. Peter knew nothing, or next to nothing, about sex.
    Astounded by her nakedness, his mouth sagged open and his eyes stared at her in amazed disbelief. He was shocked at the sight of the triangular mass of black, curly hair which reached upward from between the top of those lovely legs. He loved, though, the sight of her small firm breasts reaching out to him so invitingly, their surprisingly large nipples erect, all but asking to be fondled and kissed. Still in disbelief at what he was seeing, he shook his head and closed and opened his eyes a few times to make sure he was not dreaming. But he heard her voice saying, “Well, Peter?” And he saw that she really was there, naked, smiling lovingly at him and reaching out her arms to him. “Do you like me?” she repeated.
    â€œOh, God! Yes, Rose!” he answered, almost inaudibly. “You are beautiful.” And as if in a trance he stood up and went to her, wrapped his arms around her, and held her gently to him. In a daze, he was unsure as to what to do next.
    â€œTake off your clothes,” she whispered, smiling up into his bewildered face. Then she freed herself from him, went to the bed, lay down upon it, on her back, and gazed up at him. “Hurry!” she insisted.
    Kicking off his shoes, Peter quickly unbuttoned and took off his shirt, then slid his slacks, underpants and socks off in one downward sweep so that all lay in a heap on the floor. Never before had he known himself to have such an erection as that which he now had.
    Holding out her arms to him, Lai Ming pulled him down upon her. She, too, was surprised at his erection, at its very largeness. She put out a hand to stroke his erect penis. And as her fingers daintily touched and encircled the throbbing shaft, she heard Peter gasp and saw and felt his hot sperm pulsating from him in quick, long spurts onto her hand and over her body where, in tiny rivulets, it ran down over her breasts and over her belly. She was not surprised at the quickness of his ejaculation, he being so extremely nervous and excited; it had taken only the touch of her fingertips for him to lose control and allow the