Mr. Chung, from the Immigration Bureau's Inspection Team, led Sandra to the arrivals hall entrance. With a polite smile plastered on his face, he said, "This is Miss Sandra. We’ve processed her through customs as quickly as possible. In the future, if you are picking up guests you haven't met before, just let us know their names in advance. We can notify the airlines to send a telex to the flight; that way, we won't miss any important guests and can ensure a rapid clearance..."

I used thirty percent of my mental energy to exchange pleasantries with Mr. Chung, while the remaining seventy percent was entirely focused on Sandra. That was right—the twenty-something Dutch redhead was Sandra. In truth, I could have recognized her easily if she were standing there naked!

Sandra was an internet acquaintance I had met this February through an international erotic chat room. To a foreigner, the name "Bao" carries no particular meaning, and the curious Sandra had immediately noticed the "odd" name. She asked about its meaning, where I was from, and my basic stats—height, hair, weight—and then she chose me to be her virtual sexual partner for the night.

For the following month, we met almost every night in that chat room to engage in the most lewd, depraved conversations. After a month of virtual intimacy, she sent a photo tucked within one of her messages: a nude photograph! That image swept away any doubts that she might be a man in drag, but her subsequent request left me feeling exposed: she wanted me to send a nude photo of myself in return!

After much deliberation, I decided to send a standard portrait and politely explained that it wasn't convenient for me to have a nude photo developed at a studio. However, her photograph became my most unexpected secret.

Through our exchange of messages, I had practically mapped out all her sexual fetishes. She told me she worked part-time as an hostess at a seaside pub because she found the sensation of hundreds of pairs of eyes exploring her body incredibly stimulating. On weekend nights, she would pick out a handsome young man from the pub to be her guest for the evening, only to say goodbye to him the following noon.

I had thought that single photograph was the only clue to my fantasies, but to my surprise, Sandra actually had the chance to visit Taiwan. She chose Southern Taiwan as her first stop simply because I had told her it was a place filled with sunshine and passion. And so, here she stood before me, though I was still not quite used to seeing her clothed.

After leaving the airport, I drove her directly to the Howard Hotel in Kenting. I avoided the Concorde because I was afraid of running into my friend, Brother Fu, and the vanity sets at the Caesar were rumored to be too small. The Howard Kenting was not yet officially open to the public; with fewer guests, we were less likely to run into acquaintances, making it the perfect setting for our needs.

Since we weren't exactly "cheating," I felt the need for a meticulous plan to soothe my inner anxiety. Following routes I knew well, we spent the late afternoon touring the western half of Kenting Park. Due to the jet lag, she appeared slightly fatigued after dinner and suggested we return to the room to rest.

Thanks to a special arrangement through the Howard Taipei branch, we were given a room facing the ocean. The weather in Kenting in November was quite pleasant. I slid open the floor-to-ceiling balcony doors, letting the crisp sea breeze flow into the room, but my heart remained restless. I wondered if this foreign woman, who seemed so familiar yet remained a stranger, was truly as open as her letters suggested. Would she give me an STI?

"Forget it, just go with the flow..." As my mind raced with chaotic thoughts, I turned back toward the room. But the moment I turned, the blood in my veins froze! My eyes landed squarely on Sandra’s breasts, which she had just freed from the confinement of her bra.

Perhaps sensing my awkwardness, she asked teasingly, "Haven't you seen my photo already? Why are you making such a funny face?"

"Well, I..."

Without waiting for my clumsy response, she slipped into the bathroom to shower.

I stared at the television screen, but the program meant nothing to me. My only concern was that my performance would be awkward later...

A short while later, Sandra emerged from the bathroom. This time, she was wrapped in a bath towel rather than being completely naked.

"Do you want to take a shower too?" she asked.

I turned the two faucets—which looked remarkably like feminine breasts—letting the warm, fluid-like stream wash over my body. As I lathered the soap, my mind wandered to what was about to happen, and to the "doggy style" position Sandra had mentioned she loved. Then, I realized the old saying that "fat men can't see their own penises" was utter nonsense! Suppressing my overflowing desire, I waited for my manhood to regain its composure before stepping out of the bathroom, only to find that Sandra had already fallen asleep.

She was sleeping deeply, clutching the quilt to her, curled up like a young girl. Was she truly the object of my sexual fantasies for the past few months? "Perhaps there is a gap between the internet and reality," I thought with a small smile, before lying down beside her and drifting into a dream of frantic, passionate entanglement.

A vague sensation of itching drifted between my legs. In my daze, I muttered a few words in my native tongue: "What?"

My eyes snapped open. Sandra was lying naked beside me, her breast pressed against my chest. One hand propped up her head, while the other was playfully teasing my groin.

"Why didn't you wake me last night? I love making love in that half-asleep, half-awake state," Sandra whispered.

"I love it too..."

Morning is when a man's hormones are at their peak. I captured Sandra's sexy lips with mine and rolled over to pin down this foreign woman whom I was experiencing for the first time. Though her height of 175cm made her appear no different from an Eastern woman when lying flat, her firm breasts remained defiant and peaked even in repose. I gently bit and licked her earlobe, knowing that to her, it would sound like the wet, rhythmic noises of intercourse.

My hands greedily grasped her breasts, confirming the textures of my months of fantasy. Her snowy skin made her nipples glow a tempting pink. As my lust expanded inch by inch, I discovered that her body hair, much like her hair, shimmered with a reddish-gold light. I parted her thick pubic hair; the moment my tongue touched her clitoris, we both felt a distinct, pleasurable electric current.

Under my teasing, Sandra's crimson petals grew increasingly wet. Unable to resist, I gently slid my fingers into her honeyed cleft. With every thrust, the flower seemed to become drenched in the morning dew.

Sandra signaled for me to lie down, then turned her back to me, draping herself over my body. Suddenly, a warm, moist sensation enveloped my penis, which was already in a state of full readiness. The overwhelming pleasure drove me to quicken the movement of my tongue. I delved deep into her petals, my fingers moving in rhythmic circles against her clitoris, relentlessly intensifying the stimulation.

Her movements of swallowing me increased in tempo; I knew it was a signal. Suddenly, Sandra pulled my penis out and sat down directly onto my face! I could barely breathe, but this was the critical moment. I used the tip of my tongue to press firmly against her clitoris while driving my fingers deep into her vagina to hook and pull... Finally, just before I suffocated, she let out a cry of pure ecstasy!

After the release, Sandra turned around and kissed my lips, which were slick with her juices. She guided my penis to her opening and slowly lowered herself down... The sensation of the tight fit brought a sense of peace to my soul. I had worried that entering a tall, foreign woman might feel "empty," but I discovered that a woman's anatomy truly possesses a more versatile elasticity than a man's, regardless of East or West.

I let her ride me for a while, then remembered her preference for doggy style. I sat up, skillfully shifting our positions, and signaled for her to lie on all fours with her back to me. Sandra smiled; in that moment, we were like a perfectly synchronized couple, expertly performing our familiar dance.

Her hip line was high, and her long, shapely legs accentuated the alluring curves of her lower body. But the most breathtaking sight was her full, exposed sex. Perhaps due to the difference in our heights, the position felt slightly awkward; I almost had to adopt a semi-squatting stance to drive my entire length into her, which was a slight departure from what I had expected. Sandra noticed this as well, so she climbed down from the bed and knelt before the sofa in the room. This allowed me to finally launch my full assault.

The sound of flesh colliding echoed through the room, and Sandra's wanton cries were just like something out of a pornographic film, constantly striking at my lust. From behind, I gripped her full breasts tightly, using them like reins to keep myself from losing control.

The faint light of dawn began to seep into the room, dimly illuminating the two lovers lost in their hedonism. Sandra slowly straightened her upper body and leaned against the floor-to-ceiling glass window, facing the deep blue of the ocean through the sheer white curtains. Suddenly, she pulled the curtains wide and pressed her body against the glass! Feeling a surge of tension, I slightly slowed my thrusts.

She turned her head and asked with a smile, "Don't you think making love facing such a beautiful view is more stimulating than anything else?"

"It is. Since we're at it, why not thoroughly satisfy this long-starved desire?"

In the early morning, surely no one would discover a man and woman indulging so wildly in sex? Even if someone happened to catch a glimpse of the scenery, let them burn with desire! That was none of my concern.

Before the sun fully rose, I poured every ounce of desire from my body deep into hers.

Afterward, Sandra told me that I was her first Eastern partner. She felt that Eastern men were gentler; although his "equipment" was a size smaller than a Westerner's, he knew exactly how to tease a woman's emotions and her lust. That, she said, was what she appreciated most.

As for me? I found that the shyness and the delicate skin of Eastern women were what truly moved my heart. Of course, I never told her that...