An erotic story of a Swedish woman who discovers ladyboy love in a warm Asian country. Photo is TS Belinda


Late in the evening, she arrived at the hotel, in a city she had never seen, in a strange warm country. As a Swedish woman, she thought it was nothing. She could barely see through the windows of the cab, the side windows were slightly fogged, and the lights of the shop windows along the street glinted yellowish and dull, as if on a canvas. And although the no-frills lobby of the small hotel was no doubt completely foreign to them, it still felt strangely familiar. She was too tired even to unpack her bags, so she crawled into the high bed and fell asleep under a thick blanket. Later in the night, she woke up and heard people singing under the windows as they passed, and she got up and opened the windows a little. Groups of people coming from a late dinner strolled by downstairs laughing and talking. She soon fell asleep again, woke a second time later and listened to the sound of rain falling lightly on the cobblestones. She let her gaze wander around the room, saw the light shining in streaks through the shutters. She got up, looked in the bathroom, in the small front room of the hotel room – and found him nowhere.

Annoyed, she reached for the fluffy bathrobe lying on a dresser, unbuttoned the belt and slipped inside. Barefoot, she slipped out, feeling the thick carpet under her bare feet, and waited in the warm twilight of the hallway for the elevator. As she descended, she looked at herself in the mirrored elevator doors, registering the lock of her dark hair that had escaped the elastic and described an arc down the side of her cheek. Her gaze slid over her tanned skin, the base of her breasts peeking out from behind the cleavage of the bathrobe. As if by accident, her right hand stroked the lapel of the robe, her index finger gently grazing her skin. The elevator slowed down gently, the doors slid silently aside, and she stepped out onto the terracotta floor, which radiated a pleasant warmth and felt comfortable under the soles of her feet. She realized immediately that she had gone down one floor too far; a spacious basement room opened up before her, with roughly plastered walls in spotty shades of orange. Huge candles flickered at irregular intervals in forged holders, almost like small torches. She walked along the path marked out by the candles. After a while, she stood before a large frosted glass door, behind which shimmered warm colors.

She pushed down the heavy chrome latch, leaned against the huge door, which swung open silently, and slid through the doorframe. Somewhat surprised, she let her gaze wander, staring in disbelief at the high vault that rose above her in pastel colors. An old cellar, she thought, and she wondered who had come up with the idea of excavating the vault, painting it bright, laying a floor of dark, heavy tropical wood in it, and enriching it with all sorts of modern ingredients. All around were small cabinets of light wood, and she wondered what could be kept behind the greenish frosted glass panes. In the center of the seemingly endless room stood an indefinable piece of furniture, like a large, high bed, on four pole-like wooden legs. Its large, flat surface was covered in light-colored leather. The front of the room was completely mirrored, and out of the corner of her eye she caught her reflection, which moved eerily and a little shakily. Then a door opened that she hadn’t noticed before, and out stepped a young girl, with olive-colored skin and dark, long hair. She had only a large, subtly patterned scarf wrapped around her hips, a white linen scarf was draped over her shoulder, knotted at the neck – it hung down casually and ended just below her breasts.

The Asian girl made an inviting motion, said something in a language she didn’t understand and smiled expectantly. She felt a little uncertain, but understood that the Asian girl expected her to lie down on the leather bed. She climbed up the strange furniture, lay down on her stomach, put her head in the hollow of her arm, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply the scent of vanilla that the warm leather spread. The Asian girl moved cautiously around her and lit four large candles on a small metal shelf in front of her. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl disappear behind a curtain, where she was apparently busy taking care of things. She heard the soft clinking that occurs when glass jars collide, and a moment later she saw the girl place some kind of metal rack over the candles and put several glass vials in them, filled with colored, oily liquids. The girl said something to her again – judging by the tone, a question, and since she liked the girl’s smile, she answered with a brisk nod. The girl repeated her question, the same tones, the same tone, but she didn’t understand and smiled back uncertainly. The girl gently touched her neck with her fingertips, looked questioningly. When she didn’t respond, the young Asian trans woman reached for the belt of her robe, unbuttoned it and slipped off her lush white terrycloth dressing gown. She lay naked on the warm leather surface, breathing deeply and evenly. Then the girl reached for one of the vials, took out the small cork with a gentle circular motion.


The girl said something to her, in a slightly monotone, soothing tone. She closed her eyes and a few moments later felt a warm, thin stream of oil run down the back of her neck. She immediately got goosebumps, took a deep breath and let out a surprised sound, to which the Asian trans woman giggled softly. The stream of oil stopped and the girl looked at her questioningly. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply. The girl put the bottle back, reached for another jar, opened it and let the warm liquid drip down the hollow of her back, just above her buttocks. She enjoyed the warmth, felt the oil make its way down her back in small, warm streams. The girl closed the bottle again, and she fixed the many-fold refracted light of the candle flames breaking into the shining vials. The girl climbed up to her, kneeling over her. She felt the girl’s fingertips touch the back of her neck, come to rest there briefly, and then slide over her skin with first barely perceptible, then increasingly firm circular motions. Seemingly effortlessly, her fingertips drew delicate lines on her skin, then her fingers paused with emphasis before the girl let the pressure play out in gentle circular motions. She felt herself getting hot and began to surreptitiously linger under the Asian’s gentle touch; she had never done it with a trans woman before. She felt how the lightly circling touch of her fingertips contrasted with the firm pressure the trans girl applied with her thumb, working her skin intensely. She kept her eyes closed, trying at first to hold back a moan, then sighed softly and regularly as the Asian’s fingers tried to draw patterns on her back. Suddenly the girl let go of her, said something to her again. She opened her eyes, looked questioningly at the Asian girl. She repeated the sounds, illustrated her question with a circular motion of her index finger. She understood.

Gently, she turned, feeling her oiled back slide across the leather. She stretched her spine and heard the soft smacking sound as the vacuum between the hollow of her back and the sofa surface released. Now she lay on her back, looking deep into the eyes of the Asian. She took another bottle, gently circled the contents and poured the oily liquid between her breasts. The warmth and unexpected impact of the heavy liquid almost took her breath away. A scent of wild roses and patchouli penetrated deep into her nose; she sniffed eagerly. The girl smiled, setting the vial back on the metal rack. The girl hovered over her belly and reached for her breasts with her fingertips. With slow, circular motions, she smeared the warm oil over her breasts – sometimes her fingers fluttered nonchalantly like butterflies over the tops of her breasts, other times she massaged her breasts with her slippery palms, applying steady, firm pressure. The tops of her breasts stood up and she felt a growing excitement well up inside her. She cocked under the Asian’s touch and jiggled her pelvis, her buttocks sliding gently over the oily surface of the light leather. She reached for the Asian’s upper arms, wanting to pull her toward her. The girl bent her upper body toward her, kissed her softly on the lips, and then straightened up again. She saw how the linen cloth over her upper body had become transparent in places from the brief contact with the oil. Her small, firm breasts stood out clearly under the translucent parts. She fixed the Asian’s breasts as her pelvis continued to throb. She felt an irrepressible desire to touch the girl’s breasts and grabbed the back of her neck to unbutton the sheet.

The girl clasped her breasts with her oiled hands

The Asian whispered something, shaking her head slightly. The sheet slid off the girl’s shoulder and her hands moved magnetically to the girl’s breasts, her pelvis circling gently on her stomach. The Asian girl leaned back as if to avoid the touch. The girl clasped her breasts with her oiled hands and kneaded them lustfully. Then the Asian bent over and she felt her warm body move on hers. Their lips touched and she let her tongue slide gently into the Asian’s slightly opened mouth. Suddenly, far away, she heard a door slam. The girl was startled, made a dismissive hand gesture, looked around irritably and felt for the linen cloth.
The Asian trans woman spoke quickly and in a whisper, but of course, she didn’t understand a word of it. With scurrying motions, the Asian disappeared into the doorway. She remained on the leather bed, listening to her throbbing pulse. Her breathing was rapid and seemed to reverberate on the vaulted walls. She closed her eyes, noticing how her buttocks circled cautiously over the greasy leather surface. She straightened up, feeling the excitement rise ever more violently within her. Then she drew in her knees, turned to the headboard, wrapped her arms around her thighs as she looked at herself in the mirror on the wall opposite. Her cheeks were flushed, the red spots outlined in a circular outline. She felt it throb between her legs. Shifted her pelvis forward. She loosened her arms, spread her legs slightly. In the mirror, she observed her slightly opened thighs, her red labia.

She spread further, letting the index finger of her right-hand glide over the shaved area above her slit. Fleetingly, she touched her clitoris before placing her index finger on the outer edges of her labia. With her left hand, she carefully spread herself, looking at herself in the mirror as her index finger gently slid along her labia. She straightened further and moved closer to the mirror to better see how her fingertip lightly disappeared into her slit. She circled gently, feeling the oily moisture of her fingertip mingle with her juices. With light circling motions, she let her finger slide deeper and deeper into her slit. She spread her legs, eager to see her finger circling her slit. She pushed herself more passionately toward her finger, seeing in the mirror how wet it was with her juice, how the glow of the candles broke into the moisture. With her left hand she spread herself wider, watching her play more and more excitedly in the mirror, and then gently touched her clit with her thumb, circling it, as it came forward more and more excitedly. She moaned it out as she felt the arousal rise within her, at shorter and shorter intervals, more and more intense. She saw her slightly opened mouth in the mirror, her cheeks now dark red, her features strangely distorted by arousal. A wave of heat took hold of her, she pushed her finger deep into her slit, pressed her thumb against her clit and paused, expecting a huge surge of excitement. She finished with a short, breathless gasp, convulsing and pulsing to the deep muscle layers of her abdomen, then paused for a moment, feeling the pulsing of her labia.

The light seemed weaker now, her heartbeat, she thought, beating like a dull, clearly audible drumbeat through the vault of light. She had lost all sense of time as she sat pulsating on the warm leather bed, thinking back to the Asian’s sweet kiss. She closed her eyes. After what felt like an eternity, she looked forward, saw herself in the mirror. She suddenly recognized a rectangular contour in the huge mirror surface, which she had not noticed before. She let herself slide off the leather bed and stepped toward the mirrored wall. The outline resembled a large door, and when she gently pressed her greasy fingers against the repeat segment, the mirror rectangle abruptly swung open. She had discovered a door. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness behind the door, she could vaguely make out a huge room. At the same time, she detected a tapestry of sound, like a murmur in the distance. She recognized white-covered tables at which people in evening clothes were seated. They stood chatting, some looking discreetly, almost shyly, in her direction. There was something about their faces.

The ladyboys were all wearing masks

Then she realized they were all wearing masks, like in the Venetian carnival. She was shocked when she realized her nakedness. Strangely, ladyboys seemed to be paying some attention to her here. Slowly she entered the room. Occasionally she felt glimpses of her skin from the furtive corners of her eyes, but it didn’t bother her. She belonged in a mysterious ladyboy way, was part of the mysterious community in the huge room. It was perfectly proper and perfectly normal for her to step naked among these people. Then she felt a gentle breeze at her back. She looked back and saw that the door through which she had entered had fallen shut. Then it was as if the blood in her veins froze. There was no wall, no door either. There was nothing. She could see the vaulted room, the leather bed, the dark floor, the low closet fittings. The mirrored wall was transparent. Everyone in the room had seen her, had watched her slide her finger into her slit. Had seen the welts on her cheeks. Strangely, the idea didn’t frighten her, didn’t even make her feel uncomfortable. On the contrary. She felt the silent appreciation of those who had watched the spectacle. And she felt something else: that everyone here was infinitely excited. Just as she was. Her gaze slid over the faces, through the masks she could only see the mouths of those present. The ladyboys wore dinner jackets, some had a fresh flower in their buttonhole. She felt the gazes on her, increasingly penetrating. Women were there too, festively dressed. There were a few candles on the tables, but always glasses, red wine in mighty decanters. She let her gaze wander. It was impossible to discern individuals from here. She wondered how many people had gathered here. How many had watched her.

A hundred? Probably. Her gaze continued to wander. And although she could not place persons or personalities in the eyes or the masked faces, she sensed that he was in their midst. She had found him. There was a strange tension in the air. People nodded at her. Her gaze slid to a table, covered with a white damask tablecloth, on which stood a large champagne cooler. Next to it were two smaller bowls of fruit. She slid onto the table, feeling countless pairs of eyes follow her every move. With her elbow, she swept the cooler off the table, as well as the fruit bowls. It echoed from afar. A large room, oh yes( www.pezax.com). She knew what everyone was about to experience. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was what she was about to experience. She felt that she was no longer alone in her excitement. She leaned back, opened her thighs. Her moist fingers circled gently over her clit, and she felt it rise hot within her. At one of the front tables, two ladyboys stood up and slowly came toward her. She felt how fascinated they were, and how excited. Nodded at them encouragingly as her index finger touched her wet slit again. The ladyboys approached her, and she registered the adventurous contrast between their noble perfumes and the obvious, almost wild, excitement. She looked at the two ladyboys defiantly. One was tall, athletic, the other of somewhat feminine stature, with slightly longer hair. She saw how the athlete’s chest moved rapidly up and down, how he struggled to hide her excitement. She looked deep into her twinkling eyes, nodded nonchalantly, felt her gaze glide over her body. Feeling her gaze between her legs, she let her index finger slide deep into her slit. The ladyboy groaned. She could clearly see her erection in her pants. Then she grinned defiantly at them both as she gently circled her finger in her slit, pulled the wet finger out in pleasure, and then slid it deep inside again. Almost simultaneously, the two ladyboys opened their pants, seeming to forget all inhibitions, encouraged by her excited gaze.

She watched as the boys’ hands disappeared into their panties, as they closed their eyes. One of them let her pants slide down, she watched in fascination as her bulging shaft and glans seemed to pulsate with excitement. With rhythmic movements, her hand slid along her shaft, accompanied by her rapid, excited breathing. With a casual wave of her hand she beckoned him to her, she saw her excited eyes behind the mask and enjoyed her openly displayed arousal. her glans twitched and her hand slid faster and faster down her shaft, gripping it more fiercely. The other, slimmer ladyboy appeared on the other side, also with her pants down, also extremely aroused, massaging her cock. She felt herself getting more and more aroused by their fascinated gazes, her lust building. Amazed, she realized that they had found a common rhythm, that their movements matched in pace and intensity. They were even breathing in sync. The two continued to move closer together, she could feel their glans pulsing just inches from the tips of her breasts. Their movements became faster as if following a steadily accelerating beat that only the three of them could hear. Their eyes met and she felt how they both restrained themselves only with the greatest difficulty. She gave them challenging glances, opened her mouth a little, moaned softly and stretched her back up a little so that the tips of her breasts touched the assholes of the two ladyboys. She felt the penetrating, excited looks of the two, and how they groaned suppressed. Then she saw how the two’s glans began to twitch almost simultaneously, how then the cum shot out almost abruptly and violently. She felt how they both pulsed, and how the hot jet hit the tops of her breasts with surprising pressure, how the semen ran hot and syrupy over her trembling breasts.

She let her eyes wander now, feeling her finger deeper into her slit, and saw that other ladyboys had now followed the example of her two playmates. She could see them all around her, all equally excited, all equally eager as if directed by an invisible choreographer. She turned her head to the side, beckoning one of the ladyboys with a brisk nod. She looked at her pulsing glans, opened her lips, let her tongue wander over her lips, and looked at the ladyboy defiantly. She let her wet lips slide over her excited glans. Meanwhile, she massaged her shaft, breathing faster, stammering words she didn’t understand. She encircled her glans, sucking him hard, making him let out a cry of surprise. As she circled her glans with her tongue, she felt her hips begin to tremble, how it seeped deep into him, and how he ejaculated with a loud cry. She felt him violently pulsating cum in her mouth, jerking, twice, three times, and the taste of her cum spread in her mouth, slightly salty, warm. She felt him tremble, filled with her excitement and the intensity of the experience. He breathed in deeply. Gently stroked through her hair. As he withdrew, she felt the slender boy next to her begin to breathe heavily and moan gently. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched excitedly as he barely managed to keep himself on her feet, so much so that her excitement became too much for him. She turned her face to him, watched as he jerked briefly and violently, then with a loud moan, came pulsing hard. her cum shot to her cheeks, she opened her lips slightly and felt her hot juice on her tongue. When she touched the tip of her tongue to her glans, he cried out, so sensitive had he become from ther intense experience. her eyes had a deep, dark gleam that was also communicated quite intensely through the mask. She saw another ladyboy approaching her, looking at her and rubbing her shaft boldly in front of her. Deciding to give him a little squirm, she turned around demonstratively and stuck her tongue out at another glans thrusting towards her.

The faces were now penetrating more and more back into her perception, she was perceiving the crowd crowding around her more and more like a lustful mass as if following her lead, her rhythm. She pressed her tongue against the opening of the glans, which now pulsed lustfully before her face, and looked tightly into the eyes that were visibly struggling for composure behind the mask. Her gaze became more demanding, she wanted to feel her pleasure and signaled to him that she expected her cum. At her prompting gesture, he moved her hand faster over her shaft, finally shooting off with a loud moan. She felt her cum on her cheeks;
at the same time, she pushed away the ladyboy who was lurking on the other side, also massaging herself excitedly. She was startled a little when she felt something warm on the tops of her breasts, looked down at herself and saw a ladyboy bent over her in a dark evening gown, running her tongue over the tops of her breasts, licking the cum from her breasts, savoring it. The ladyboy she had stopped stood panting beside her, not daring to touch her cock, just staring at her intimidatingly as he tried to suppress her arousal. She searched her gaze, putting on a sardonic grin as she felt her excitement take hold of every fiber of her body. She reached out and touched the underside of her shaft with the nail of her index finger, circling lightly over her testicles, and then ran it along the underside of her shaft, very slowly and pleasurably sliding forward to her glans. The ladyboy suppressed a moan, wearing a white shirt and dinner jacket in which her neck seemed to pulse wildly. Just as her fingernail reached the tip of her glans, he cried out, she stared at him demanding, enjoying her pulsing as her cum shot hotly out of him, running down her neck, where the white liquid was greedily licked by the tongue of the woman in the evening gown. She reached up and clawed at her hair, pushing her head toward a glans, which she massaged with her wet fingers.

Sensing that it took little effort to get the ladyboy’s lust going, she massaged her shaft with short, firm motions before he discharged, moaning loudly, into the mouth of the woman in the evening gown. She felt her body shudder as she directed the lustful group, controlling every movement of the bystanders, breaking down or denying their climaxes as she served herself, a director of pleasure, with unbridled authority. Out of the corner of her eye, while her hands were busy massaging and rubbing, she watched as a ladyboy wearing a silver eye mask approached her, spread her legs irreverently, opened her pants and slowly slid her hard shaft into her slit. It took her breath away, she was overwhelmed, until now she had determined and controlled every movement of the bystanders. But soon she was enjoying the ladyboy’s thrusts, it felt familiar to her, and she moaned deeply as they had spontaneously found the perfect rhythm together. She clasped him tightly, feeling her fierce, excited thrusts, and leaned forward to watch as her wet shaft disappeared and reappeared in her slit regularly and tirelessly. Her hands reached around rather haphazardly, she heard moans in a variety of pitches, and sank into a sea of pleasure, losing all sense of time and feeling how she pulsated, driven by the lustfully charged thrusts of the ladyboy whose shaft enclosed her. She felt the lust inside her grow stronger and stronger, her belly contracted and discharged in a loud scream as the ladyboy began to squirm and discharge inside her. She lay there, alone, feeling the ladyboy cum on her lips, tasting her lust.

Furthermore, she dozed a little, and when she opened her eyes, she saw that the huge room was empty, the half-empty glasses still on the tables. She stood up, stepped through the mirrored door, slipped into her bathrobe and made her way to the elevator. When the elevator doors closed, she looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes ablaze, her body still throbbing slightly. She strode to her room door, opened the door and slipped out of her robe. There was a silver mask on the armchair in the front room. She went to the bed, saw the Asian woman lying in it, completely relaxed sleeping. Silently, she crawled under the thick blanket. The light from the streetlamps shone through the shutters and drew a yellowish diamond pattern on the bedspread. Her breathing was even and steady as she fell asleep.