My Secret Ninja Lover (Interracial Sex - BWAM) Read online

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  My Secret

  Ninja Lover

  Sasha Collins

  Publisher’s note

  Every possible effort has been made to ensure that the information contained in

  this book is accurate at the time of going to press, and the publishers and author

  cannot accept responsibility for any errors or omissions, however caused. No

  responsibility for loss or damage occasioned to any person acting, or refraining

  from action, as a result of the material in this publication can be accepted by the

  editor, the publisher or the author.

  First edition 2012

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism

  or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988,

  this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by

  any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case

  of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms and licences issued by

  the CLA.

  © Sasha Collins 2012

  The right of Sasha Collins to be identified as the author of this work has been

  asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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  **

  She enjoyed walking in the city at night.

  Some would call it risky or even a stupid thing to enjoy, but she picked her spots carefully and was always sure to keep to popular areas. It wasn’t as if she was traipsing around back alleys in the wee hours of the morning or anything.

  Tonight was like no other in the early evening in the city. It was around eight o’clock and the rain had just let up when she went out. The restaurants and bars downtown had their usual dinner time crowds, which made her feel safe. She enjoyed seeing people let their hair down and relax a bit. It helped her do the same after the hectic days she put in at work. She felt good though helping fellow African-Americans who had not had as much luck combating the prejudices which remained in some facets of society.

  After a while, Lori realized she was a bit tired and decided to sit for a while on a bench fronting the main fountain downtown. She realized this was what changed the evening for her. She’d let her guard down and relaxed a bit too much.

  Being a typical American in this day and age, she had decided to check her iPhone for the usual facebook updates from her friends. Almost immediately Lori had gotten so fixated on the phone and her status updates that she hadn’t heard the man coming down the sidewalk towards her. There were quite a few people walking past her given the early hour, but still she should have been paying attention.

  Anyway, this one man had gotten to close, but before she had been able to realize he was there, he had made a grab for her purse. She had had it firmly under her arm with the strap over her shoulder, so it was the quick pull on it which alerted her rather than the man’s move into her own personal space.

  Foolishly, Lori had for a split second thought about putting up a fight for the bag, but then quickly and correctly opted against it. She loosened her grip on the bag and the man was so strong that he literally broke the strap yanking it from her.

  He was off in a flash, and this time she was watching, though in reality the impact of what had just happened had not hit her yet.

  How could this have happened? Why hadn’t any of the people around her helped? It wasn’t as if she was the only person on the block. There were more than a dozen people within fifty feet of her.

  With another blink of her eye she had seen a blur a few steps away as a man seemingly jumped out of the bushes and judo chopped the crap out of the mugger.

  The mugger dropped her bag on the ground and headed for the hills- literally.

  For whatever reason this was applauded by several of the folks who just seconds ago were merrily uninterested in helping her.

  Her rescuer- well, actually her purse’s rescuer, stooped over and picked up the bag, brushing off some of the water that had gotten on it when her assailant had dropped it on the damp pavement.

  He brought it over to her and sheepishly if not bashfully handed it back to her.

  “I believe this is yours,” he said.

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied. “That was very brave, what you did. Especially when no others bothered even to raise an eyebrow.”

  “Well in all honest it is what anyone would – or at least should, have done,” he said.

  They chatted for awhile and after introductions and a bit of small talk the enormity of what happened- or at least what could have happened- began to dawn on Lori.

  She could tell that she was beginning to go into a place she had not been prior. It probably wasn’t shock per se, but in that vein. She could feel her pulse quicken and her nostrils flare with the sudden onset of anxiety.

  She shuddered a bit with the realization that she was about to lose control.

  Her bag’s rescuer, who she had since learned was named Iruku, moved to console her and comfort her. For the longest time they did not talk but she found his strong arms comforting. Finally, after she could tell the moment was beginning to pass and the tears were at least starting to subside, they resumed their conversation.

  She found out that Iruku was a trained ninja, hence the earlier skills she saw him perform. He was a bit like a younger, sexier version of Jet Li or Bruce Lee with even more muscles. He had his own studio on the north side of the city and trained by private appointment only.

  Perhaps it was the afterglow of his heroic efforts on her behalf, but as she felt at least some calm return to herself, she found she was beginning to actually enjoy the feel of Iruku’s arm about her. It was warm and perhaps most importantly for the moment, safe.

  She’d never been with an Asian man, and actually for whatever reason had never even fantasized about being with one. Perhaps it was her dynamic and leading role in her own black community which made her historically prefer her own race, but this fine gentleman was making her feel something.

  It was something which she found intriguing, if nothing else.

  Iruku invited her up to his apartment, which was nearby, for a bit of tea to try and settle her nerves a bit as he could see how distraught she was becoming.

  She agreed wordlessly with only a nod of the head, and felt his are continue to support her as he guided her up from the bench and across the street. It took a few more minutes, but they did get to his place, which was small but actually very nice.

  Iruku guided her over to a plush leather couch, where she began to collect her wits. For the first time, she really took a good look at Iruku. He was a short man, but thin. He wasn’t built like a bodybuilder, but his physique was not unattractive in the slightest.

  If anything, knowing that such a rather pedestrian body could unleash itself with a moment’s notice with such power was exciting. His dark hair was cut short and he had a slight goatee coming in which was actually rather hot.

  His eyes were soft, as were his hands. This latter fact surprised Lori given the abuse they must take in training and practice.

  He brought over a small cup of hot tea, which was obviously given the scent steeped in lemons somehow. She took a small sip, just to gauge its warmth. It was almost too hot, but not quite. It was actually quite delicious and a nice gesture from a relative stranger.

  She t
urned to see him sipping his as well and marveled again at his generosity. They were so close that their knees were almost touching, but almost. Her copper skin was a nice contrast to his deeply olive skin.

  The tea was good and she felt herself calming down as she drank, although she thought that the company was helping as well. She was strangely feeling a rather strong attraction to Iruku.

  Perhaps he felt the same way or perhaps he saw the sudden softening of the look she was giving him, but he gingerly leaned over and kissed her.

  It was a nice kiss. It wasn’t aggressive, but it wasn’t a wimpy little thing either. It was very much a little probe to see how receptive she may be to his potential advances.

  Surprisingly, she was rather open to them, no matter how much they may have been unplanned.

  He pulled back after the first kiss, but on seeing that she hadn’t moved away, he came back and kissed her again. This time it held more passion as his initial probe had met with success.

  Their kisses eventually increased with fervor and intensity. She felt her mouth open and her tongue gently tease his own, which uncorked his Asian passion for sure, she noted.

  Together their fingers and hands began working the other’s clothing like whirling dervishes. Although it was a bit confusing as given the tight space they were in- still sitting together on the smallish couch- it Lori also found it strangely erotic as well.

  Before long they were both naked. She took a moment and adored his body, which was almost hairless outside of the hair on his head. She didn’t want to sound naïve and ask if this was because of his race or if it was a conscious grooming choice.

  As his hands caressed her swollen and hard purple nipples she realized that perhaps it was this unknown quantity about him which was the source of her desire. He was, if nothing else, something entirely unknown and new to her.

  Well, not entirely unknown, she thought to herself. She had just seen him kick some poor guy’s ass. Oh, wait, that was the same guy who’d mugged her. Screw him.

  And screw her savior was what she had on her mind now. God how she wanted some hot Asian cock all of a sudden.

  She was pleasantly surprised by the size of his cock, having presumed that it would be somewhat proportional to the remainder of his body- hence perhaps a bit undersized. Well, what he lacked in physical height and weight he more than made up for in cock.

  She slid down on the couch, spreading her luscious thighs for him to review. He cooed with pleasure and stroked his hard rod, almost as if teasing her.

  “Fuck me,” she whispered. “I want you to be my first Asian. Give me that Asian cock right in my hot and wet black pussy.”

  She clawed her long red nails into his ass as she felt his cock slide into her. She gasped with both pleasure and discomfort as the girth of Iruku’s cock was making it for a very tight fit in her pussy. Even the vast amounts of wetness her crotch suddenly exhibited were not all that helpful.

  It did feel good, however.

  She felt now the weight of his body against and on top of her, which made her realize again that she was in fact slightly taller than he was.

  Moving her hands to his shoulders she could feel his muscles move under the skin as his body gyrated against hers. She opened her legs a bit more- more than she even thought possible so good was the cock she was getting.

  Thankfully the added width made his fucking a bit less uncomfortable. She felt his cock slide in and out and the thought of the purple cock of his exploding and filling her wet pussy with a thick Asian load made her smile. It would be a good ending to an otherwise bad experience.

  In watching her hands on his shoulders and the muscles ripple underneath she noticed that he had a pink Chinese star tattoo on his breast, just above his right nipple. Pink was an odd color for a man’s tattoo, but it looked strangely appropriate.

  With her tongue she gently traced the outline of the star. She felt him moan and saw him close both his eyes so strong was his pleasure.

  She began praising the size of his cock and how good he was fucking her. That she wished black men fucked as good as Asian ones.

  A bead of sweat dropped off of his nose and onto her cheek. She teased him more, driving him mad with desire.

  “So, fucking a hot black girl makes you sweat?” she said, “I want this black girl to make you come.”

  She spanked him hard, gasping with each smack as she herself was incredibly turned on now.

  “Fuck. My pussy tingles.” She screamed. “Damn, that Asian cock’s making me come.”

  As she felt herself give way to her passion and feelings, she felt him come as well. It was hard, and it drove a second wave of her own orgasm coursing through her body.

  Soon, it was over, and Iruku lay panting on her, their bodies both now glistening in the pale light with the sweat of their efforts.

  “Wow,” she said, still catching her breath, “I should let someone mug me every day.”

  He said something in Japanese which she didn’t understand, but she presumed given the soft tone that is was a term of endearment.

  Slowly he gingerly got up from her, and she felt his cock slide out of her as he did so. He bent over and helped her up as well.

  She glanced down at the couch and noticed the heavy cream colored smear that they had left on the couch. She found it strangely endearing to see the results of their efforts so casually displayed.

  He offered her the chance to shower, which she gladly accepted. He also agreed to join her when she asked him too.

  Once in the surprisingly large shower stall, they both kept to the matter at hand. Simply washing. Both seemed to realize that as exciting and erotic as their encounter was, it was in the big picture nothing more than a single encounter.

  Which suited her fine, as she wasn’t really looking for a relationship, though a fucking as good as the one she had just experienced was definitely to her liking.

  Gradually they finished showering and toweled off. Now their relative quiet had even spread to grow into a bashful attempt to ignore the nakedness of the other.

  Lori got dressed and said her goodbyes, being sure again to thank him profusely for his help earlier with getting her purse back.

  They kissed just once more, just a little peck of a thing. And with that she left and their relationship ran its full and complete course.

  Back on the street, it took Lori a moment to get her bearings back and determine her way back home. It wasn’t a long walk.

  It was later now, but the dinner crowds were still there, if perhaps a little thinner. And the bar scene was still happening too, and as she walked by she could tell that there were more than a few folks who would not remember the night.

  Then she passed the bench she’d been sitting on when that creep had tried to steal her purse. And when her rescuer went and retrieved it for her, kicking some major ass in the process.

  She was sure of how she would remember the day, though. She would remember it not as a day where she had been mugged. No, she thought, Iruku had done more than get her purse back.

  He had given her a wonderful experience which she had enjoyed so much that it overshadowed the assault. So much so that even the details of it were already fading into memory.

  Well, she thought to herself. He’d given her a big load of come in addition to the experience. Or perhaps one was a part of the other. She didn’t know, she realized. And frankly, she didn’t care either.

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