Jasmine Fever – The Genesis

When I was a young man growing up in the US and beginning to feel my oats and started eyeing girls, I never gave Asian girls a thought. I guess because in my once lilywhite town, there were no Asian girls. Few Latin girls, but that was about it. I did
know from a young a young age that girls with dark hair and dark eyes caught my attention. My first ‘love’ in the 4th grade was a girl named Debbie Walker. She had short dark hair and black almond shaped eyes. She was a Caucasian
girl but the hair and eyes were almost Thai. Once in a while, I’ll pull out that old 4th grade class picture, that Debbie Walker was a little stunner. If I had only known about barfining back in 1965. ;^) I had no idea how this attraction
would change what I thought was beautiful in a woman in the future.

Fast forward to Sydney, Australia 1990. I was attending a training class for the company I worked for at the time. In the hotel restaurant, there was a Filipina employee, a waitress who had taken an obvious liking to me. Always hanging around
my table etc. She was my first experience with an Asian girl but the experience never went beyond flirting. The hotel one evening was having a party for the hotel employees. Myself and a colleague quietly slipped in the door and blended ourselves
in. By this time, we were known around the hotel so no one minded our presence. The Filipina spotted me and immediately came over wrapping her arms around mine. We danced together and had a good time. She asked me what room I was staying in when
the party ended. She was a little hottie and definitely captured my attention. I regrettably told her my room number. Regrettably, because I was married at the time and my common sense still somewhat intact. I had no idea about butterflying back
then. She never showed up to my room that night. That Filipina was my shadow any time she was working and I was in the lobby, restaurant area. Looking back, I thought this girl had really taken a fancy to me. I was unaware back then that more
likely, she was angling herself for a future pay day.

Jakarta, Indonesia 1990. Indonesia was my first trip to an Asian country. I’ll never forget that first walk outside from the customs clearance area. My God, hit in the face with the heat and humidity, all the people, touts, cars, scooters,
taxis and seeming chaos. My eyes wide open, all my senses in overdrive. I had already been to Central America and West Africa by this time so I wasn’t in total shock. But, I was in Asia. I was unaware standing there at the time that the
‘seed’ had just been planted. I was loving the experience. Being in a steamy third world country puts many off. Others, it makes them feel alive. I fall into the latter category and many readers will understand. No further explanation
required.

The hotel I was staying at, the Grand Hyatt, had sent a shuttle to pick me up. The hotel minibus pulled up and I hopped in taking a seat in the back. The ride from the airport to the hotel took maybe 30 minutes, as I recall. Driving through
the jam packed Jakarta streets was an experience unto itself. Traffic rules? We don’t need no stinking traffic rules. I sat there looking out the window soaking it all in. We finally pull up to the hotel’s grand entrance. I hop out
and a swarm of guys come over grabbing my belongings for me and escort me to the reception desk. There, I am greeted by two absolutely beautiful receptionists. Holy Christ I’m thinking to myself trying to maintain my composure, look at
these women! Black hair, black eyes. Freaking beautiful. As I’m standing there going through the check-in process, I’m looking around noticing that there seems to be no shortage of beautiful women walking around. Oh boy, I think
I’m going to like it here. I stood there chatting up the receptionists while they check me in. I have never really “chatted up” Asian girls before. Talking to these girls seemed so natural, so easy. The seed was beginning
to sprout.

That night in my hotel room, I’m leafing through the hotel guest services book. What’s this? I can get a massage right in my room? Sweet. I’m an Asian newbie and didn’t know anything about ‘happy endings.‘
I call down and order myself a massage. Few minutes later, a knock on the door. Standing there is this petite little honey of a girl wearing her uniform. Looked sort of like a nurse's outfit. She tells me the price of the message. I happily
hand over the cash. Too much I’m sure. She prepared the bed for the massage, lays a towel down on the bed, get her oils out etc. She then instructs me to remove my clothes. “All of them?” “Yes, dawling, all of them.”
I strip and hop on the bed laying on my stomach.

She takes off her uniform now wearing only panties and a bra. She took her uniform off because not only would she massage me with her hands, but with her body as well. Unaware at the time, she was also going to arouse me putting me in the
mood for the ‘extra’ at the end of the message. I was to see when I flipped over what a rack this girl had. I thought Asian girls all had flat chests? Nope. This girl had a lovely set of breasts on such a small frame. She completes
the ‘legitimate’ portion of the massage then asks me if I want something extra? “Huh. What extra?” She then takes her hand making a jerking-off motion. Right. Extra service. You bet. “How much?” She tells
me and I again happily hand over the cash. Sounded pretty cheap but no doubt, likely four times what I should have paid.

While she’s massaging my member, I ask her if I can feel her body and breasts. She happily obliges removing her bra revealing a set of breasts that are about as good as breasts get. She’s doing the duty while I’m feeling
her up. This is the first time in my life having my hands on an Asian girl's body. I’m taken aback by the smoothness of her skin and the tightness of her body. I’ve never felt skin and a woman’s body like this before.
I close my eyes as my sense of touch is going a million miles per hour. Kaboom! The extra service is over. My little massage girl runs to the bathroom returning with a wet, warm washcloth to clean things up.

From the moment this girl walked into my room, her and I clicked immediately. Lots of conversation beyond the usual beginning pleasantries. Her English was excellent. Again, I’m finding it very easy and comfortable being with this
Asian girl. I thought we were done and she would leave. She told me I was her last appointment for the evening. She makes a call to someone from the room phone. She asks me if she can stay with me longer. Sure, I tell her.

We lay together on the bed telling each other our life stories. She was an extremely intelligent girl. She told me she was working as a hotel masseuse working her way through college. That was her story anyway. I believed her. She was in
her late 20s. I was rather impressed with her. During my stint in Jakarta, Dwi would come to my room every Sunday night for a massage, extra service and then she would stay for an hour or two afterwards. She never spent the night. We used to laugh
and wrestle around together on the bed, spoon and cuddle acting like lovers. Of course I was desperate to make love to this girl but she would never let me. Looking back, I’m sure she was likely married but using me for some emotional needs
she probably wasn’t getting at home. She never asked me for money or anything like that. We just became very close friends, almost lovers but never fully lovers.

Looking back, it was probably a good thing on her part that she never let me shag her. I probably would have lost my mind over this girl and this submission likely would have been the “love gone horribly pear shaped” variety.

My little massage girl was my first Asian girl experience on both a physical and some emotional level. The seal had been broken so to speak. I would in short order during my time in Jakarta begin shagging girls by the dozens. I had a lot
to learn. I knew nothing about freelancers and the like back then. I would quickly learn. My whoremonger foundation was constructed in Indonesia and I will never be the same since that first trip to Asia. I’ve been star-struck with Asian
girls since. When I have time, I’ll have to pen together my first actual piece of Asian tail experience and my first “Walk of Shame” through a five star hotel lobby. Funny stuff thinking back.

Stickman's thoughts:

None of us have been the same since that first visit to Asia. NONE of us!