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Working in a newspaper that has a weekend edition makes for some crazy and very last minute requests. Now, I’m usually a sports reporter but I had just submitted my copy, I was in the office when my line-editor was looking for someone to go to an art exhibition. It was only going to be a puff piece and there’d be wine and cheese there too! Because of the lifestyle of a young journalist in Dublin, I was welcoming the idea of free food and drink! It meant I didn’t have to have dinner that night. I got the details and headed off. Because it was a work thing, I would be able to get a taxi so I took the opportunity to look up the artist.

Her name was Taki Ushimado, a blind Japanese sculptress and apparently was world famous. The fact that I was so obsessed meant she had passed me by. When I clicked on “Images” to see what she looked like I immediately regretted my interest in sport. She was phenomenal. I had never in my life seen any woman as gorgeous as her.

She had long straight jet black hair that fell about her shoulders and a cute button nose. In the range of images that my search returned showed she was quite petite in build and in height, nearly always the shortest in any group photo. Though that wasn’t what caught my eye. What really stood out was her chest. On her slim frame, her breasts stood out, jutted out from her body. And the best thing, to me anyway, was that she didn’t seem to mind showing them off. I knew as much that sometimes big breasted women didn’t always like their tits but this woman certainly did! To my uneducated eye they seemed to be in the G or H cup range but because of my job, I hadn’t been with a woman in a long time so I could’ve been wrong. I could feel my cock lengthening and thickening in my jeans just as the taxi pulled up.

We were in a swanky part of town but the drizzle tap had been turned on up in the sky somewhere so I dashed from the taxi to the entrance of the art gallery. I talked to the lackey at the door and introduced myself.

“Hi, I’m Robert Smith from the Dublin Times,” I showed my invitation and the guy in the red waistcoat directed me inside. Just as I did, an Asian-looking woman who seemed familiar from the photos of Taki walked past. She looked at me and smiled. She spoke in perfect English but with a distinct Japanese accent.

“Oh, you’re from a newspaper AND you’re tall?” she said, touching my arm lightly. I should point out at this point that yes, I am tall. I’m Six foot six (or just about two metres tall). I get loads of questions and jokes about it. I get asked to take things down from the top shelves in shops and stores. But the main thing I get is asked by drunk women if I’m hung or not. The way they normally phrase the question is something along the lines of “Is everything in proportion?!”, usually with cheeky grin on their faces as they sip a drink. My standard response is, “If everything was in proportion, I’d have to be about nine feet tall”. This frequently gets a spit-take reaction, not the “Lets take things further” reaction I’m so desperate for. Like I said, the life of a jobbing journalist is not as glamorous as one might think!

She introduced herself as Sakura, Taki’s agent in Europe and that she’d introduce me. I hurriedly said that I was not the main reporter and that our paper already had an interview lined up with our main art critic, a withered grape on a withering vine of a woman that I did not want to get on the wrong side of. Sakura laughed politely and said that this would be an informal introduction and the Taki would indeed do the interview with the main art critic. It was just that Taki liked tall men and had seemed to take a liking to Irish people so I would be a double treat.

I couldn’t help but look over Sakura as she led me over to Taki. She was about about 5′ 7, had a short professional haircut and while not as curvy as Taki was definitely svelte. She had long legs and a clearly ample behind that her tight red knee-length skirt. Her chest wasn’t nearly as big as Taki’s but no real human’s could be but it looked like she was a decent C or D cup. She must have known I was checking her out as she looked over her shoulder, saw me looking and smiled. My heart melted a little from the warmth of her smile and my cock hardened a little bit more.

Then we got there, to the moment that my whole life changed. The crowd parted and Sakura stepped aside and there before me stood Taki. She was as short as I expected and just as grandbetting yeni giriş beautiful but I could not have expected her breasts to look as incredible as they did in real life. I’m pretty sure my jaw fell open when I saw her. Embarrassed, I was thankful she couldn’t see me staring at her. My cock was getting harder in my jeans. Taki had her hair cascading down, split over her shoulders and her back. She was wearing a tight black miniskirt and a white button shirt that only emphasized how prodigious her breasts were. They were bigger in person. The buttons of her shirt were close together so there was no gaps and they were tight to her stomach to show off how slim she was. It was actually difficult for me to see her stomach because her breasts took up so much space of her torso. I was getting close to full hardness and was starting to worry about people seeing the bulge in my jeans.

There was a gaggle of art critic types hanging around her, talking and fake laughing as I felt my mouth dry up and my penis grow. Sakura stepped up to Taki, touched her wrist and spoke into her ear. Taki’s head turned slightly and a smirk started on the corner of her lips. She stepped forward and put out her hand for me to shake. She angled it upwards. I guess Sakura told her I was on the tall side. I was under the impression that Japanese people bowed but I just went with what was before me. I took her small delicate hand and shook it. Even her hand was perfect. I looked in her eyes. I spoke and she looked up at my face. Her pupils were two jet black disks in a sea of snow white. I swear I could have seen everything and nothing in those eyes. Sakura introduced me and asked if Taki could touch my face. I said yes as coolly and calmly as I could. That is to say, I choked out a nervous “Yarp!”

Taki smile and reached out to touch my face but misjudged my height and her fingers crashed into the mountain that is my chest. She laughed quietly to herself. Her laugh was musical. I took hold of her tiny hand and, bending slightly, pressed it against my cheek. I then let go, giving her free reign to touch wherever she wanted. I watched her face as she pressed and touched my face lightly first and then stronger, with more purpose. The smirk grew into a smile.

The noise of the room disappeared, there was just us two.

Reality crashed back in when Taki spoke. She spoke Japanese and Sakura translated.

“She says you are very handsome, strong features. A man of passion.” I wasn’t going to disagree with anything either woman said. “Taki wants to know how tall you are. Exactly.”

“I’m about six foot six, maybe six seven,” I said, struggling to regain my composure.

“Does that sound exact to you?” Sakura asked, smiling broadly. She was teasing me, testing me.

“I am 1.98 meters tall. Exactly!” I said, smiling. Sakura and Taki smiled now. Did Taki understand English? Taki said something to Sakura and I saw Sakura’s eyes dart to my crotch. Sakura whispered in Taki’s ear, waited for the reply and turned back to me. She touched my elbow and guided me away from the sycophants. Sakura said something to them and they all smiled and bowed to the two women.

I was guided around the exhibition, being told about each piece. As hard as it was, I tore my eyes away from Taki’s huge breasts to look at her art. Taki would say something and Sakura would translate. Even I, with my caveman level of understanding of art, couldn’t help but notice that every piece had a strong phallic theme. Rigid columns, veins tracing through the materials, shafts that veered in different directions. “Was this the way Taki felt penises?” I thought to myself.

As we made our way through the crowd, I noticed a lot of the women were busty and wearing dresses that emphasized their chests. Being on the tall side meant I had a great view. Though, because it was an art exhibit, there was also a lot of short bald men which meant I did do one or two double takes. I was handed a glass of red wine and I snatched some morsels of food from the wait staff. It wasn’t enough food for a guy of my size but the wine was strong enough to have an effect. The perfume of the women, and their bust showing off dresses combined with the two beautiful women I was walking around with was lightening my head. The two women stopped by a particular piece so I stopped too.

It was an abstract piece but even I could see it was pure sex. It was white twisted surface grandbetting giriş with black lines painted on it. Some of the lines were long and sweeping and smooth, some were angry and fierce while some were tired, clumsy and blobby. To me it was clearly a small but busty woman being taken from behind from a huge… well, maybe cock, maybe tentacle. I didn’t know much about contemporary Japanese modern art but I know about tentacle porn.

After being shown around the different pieces, getting hornier and hornier from the women, wine and art, Sakura asked if I would like to accompany Taki back to her hotel to continue the discussion. My first thought was about my deadline but I thought to myself that I’d write it when I got home.

“Yes please!” I said, eagerly. The two women smiled and Sakura hugged Taki closely. The squeeze made Taki’s tits bulge even more obscenely than before. Whatever material that shirt was made of was seriously impressive! Sakura disappeared leaving just me, this hulking brute, and Taki, this petite princess with pornstar proportions. I never felt more out of my depth in my life. Taki put her hand out and I took it. She pulled me close and wrapped her hands around me, my chin was inches above her head. She smelt amazing. I could feel her enormous tits press into my stomach. My cock was getting harder and it twitched in my jeans. I guess Taki felt that too as she pulled me tighter. I looked around and saw most people weren’t paying attention. I guess this was normal in Japan or art exhibits or something?

In moments, Sakura was back and speaking in Taki’s ear. Taki released me and stepped back, the smile on her face was enormous!

“Would you please come with us?” Sakura asked, bowing slightly. Before I knew it, we were outside. A man held an umbrella over Sakura and Taki and a sleek black limo pulled up. The man opened the door and Sakura helped Taki get in. I stood there, stupid.

“Please…,” Sakura said looking at me with a mixture of pity and understanding. She was probably wondering how I dressed myself in the morning.

I clambered into the back of the limo and sat beside Taki, who immediately cuddled up beside me. I didn’t feet the limo pull away, I just noticed the street lights moving. “Wow, that’s smooth,” I thought to myself.

“So, you’re Irish?” Taki asked, her voice soft and light. I snapped my head around. She was looking right at me, her dark eyes wide open.

“You can talk?!” I asked, shocked.

“Of course I can talk, silly!” she said, her face creasing up in a smile. She pressed me gently on the arm before rubbing it.

“Sorry, I meant you can speak English?” I clarified.

“Yeah, I like to pretend I can’t in front of others so I don’t get caught talking to boring people,” her accent was similar to Sakura’s but perhaps because of our proximity, I found Taki’s nicer, more sensual. “And Saki was telling me you have quite the snake in your trousers,” she said as one of her hands traced down my body and on to my leg. It took me a second but I figured Saki meant Sakura. I was not thinking clearly!

“Eh… I mean… it’s not small! But I am still a journalist…,” I said. I really wanted to fuck this woman but I also didn’t want to screw up my job.

“Listen Robert,” she paused, her tone becoming serious, “I am looking for something big. I believe the phrase in this part of the world is, the bigger the better. I like tall men but more importantly I like big men. Big men who can produce a lot. So I need to know two things. Do you measure up and do you produce a lot?”

I couldn’t believe my ears. What could I say in that situation? What choice did I have? I cleared my throat so I’d speak at least a little clearly.

“When erect,” there was a noticeable tremor in my voice, “my penis is eleven inches long and seven inches around. When aroused for extended periods, I do produce large amounts of cuh- I mean, semen.” I swallowed hard. I was either about to be kicked out of the fanciest car I’d ever been in and have a chance of a night with one of the sexiest women I’d ever seen in my life snatched away from me, or I’d been hit the absolute jackpot of getting lucky. I held my breath in anticipation. Nothing happened. There was an awkward pause.

“What’s inches? I thought you guys used the metric system?” a note of confusion in her voice. I did a quick and rough calculation in my head.

“Ah ok, so that’d be approximately 28 grandbetting güvenilirmi centimetres in length and 17 and a half around.” She squealed, grabbed tight to my arm and bounced up and down on my the seat.

“Take it out! Take it out! I want to feel it!” she said, excited.

“Are you sure?” I asked, double checking.

“Yes! Please! Take it out!!” she started pawing at my crotch.

“Ok, ok! I’ll do it,” I said, unbuckling my belt.

“Mmmm, that’s one of my favorite sounds in the world!” Taki said, stroking my thigh. I unzipped and as I looked at her face, I reached into my underpants and hefted it out. It was half hard so I held it up, pointing to the car roof. “Is it out?” she asked, quietly.

“Mmm-hmm,” I said, too nervous to talk. She moved her hand from my leg to my crotch area but just missed my dick, on my knee’s side. I flopped my dick forward so it bumped against her wrist. Taki jumped and burst into a fit of giggles. She moved the roaming hand and grabbed a hold of my rapidly hardening cock and then her grabbed the remaining flesh with her other hand. She squeezed my dick and gave it an experimental stroke or two.

“Two hands full! Are you fully hard?” she asked, squeezing again.

“Eh, not quite. Nearly though!” I hope she didn’t mistake my nerves for impotence. She continued stroking with one hand and leaned in to kiss my neck. Her massive breasts bulging around my arm in her attempt to get close to me. The way her lips and tongue played on my neck, a mixture of gentle and fierce, licking my vein and muscles, combined with the scent of her perfume made me fully rock hard.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you!” she said, noticing my reaction.

“Yes,” I croaked, my throat dry.

“And do you like my body?” she said, using her free hand to direct my hand to her chest. At first I just rested my hand on top of her breasts. I couldn’t help but touch and explore them. They felt as incredible as they looked. The span of one hand wasn’t enough to encompass even one breast. I heard her moan slightly as I touched her. I felt the nipple harden through her clothes.

“I love your body. It’s amazing,” I caressed her breasts, growing bolder. I rubbed my hand all over her enormous chest. “I love big breasts.”

“Mmmm, I’m very happy to hear that,” she said, unbuttoning the top button on her shirt. “I have very big breasts.”

I snorted, “Yes, you do!” I said, smiling and thankfully relaxing a bit.

“I wish I could touch all women’s breasts. Saki has let me touch hers. Hers are wonderful but not as big as mine. And because I am short, they look even bigger,” another button undone and still stroking my cock. She stroked the shaft with one petite hand and rubbed the palm of her other hand over my cock head, spreading my precum over my dick, lubricating it.

“You’re not short…” I said, defending her… from herself? She turned her face to mine, I suppose in an unbelieving way.

“Robert, I am one point five meters. I am short, even for a Japanese woman. But I am famous all over the world and my sculptures are in museums all over the world. I have big breasts and I have a big penis in my hands. I am ok with my height!” she threw her head back, laughing.

“Ok, sorry!” I said, chastened and slightly embarrassed.

“Besides, I have nice legs too! Don’t I?!” she asked. She let go of my cock and leaned away from me, swinging her legs over mine. “Touch them,” she ordered.

I ran my hand up and down the outside of her leg that was furthest away from me. It was silky smooth and soft. She parted her legs slightly and I ran my hand between them, up to the hem of her skirt. Just as my hand touched the material a voice came through to our compartment of the car.

“Ms. Ushimado, we have arrived at the hotel,” the disembodied voice said. She let out a sigh and swung her legs from mine. She fixed her clothes and I tried to stuff my now raging erection back in my pants. I opened the door of the car and clambered out as best I could with a rigid ramrod restricting my movements. Taki held out a hand and I took it, helping her out of the car. She was far more graceful than I. To my surprise, Sakura emerged from the front passenger seat. I didn’t have a great view but it looked like the driver was adjusting his fly. I looked at Sakura and she was checking her lipstick in a compact. She clicked the compact closed and took Taki by the arm. She led her up the granite and carpet steps of the hotel up to the large wood and glass doors. I looked at them at the ascended. Their asses plump and round in their respective skirts.

Taki turned around, looked directly into my soul, stretched out an arm and curled her finger at me, calling me to join them. I climbed the steps.

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