MILF Adventures December 11, 2014 at 8:22 pm
When I was younger, I always had a fantasy of seducing an older lady. I never got the chance. But it seems we a fan that completed this quest!!
Congrats to him and kudos on this great story!
My first time posting a story, so bear with me…
A little background about myself: I am now 30, Asian, 5’9″ 140 athletically-built. I’ve always has trouble getting non-Asian girls, and what made it worst is non-Asians are the ones I’m most attracted to. However, this was the time I hit 2 birds with 1 stone – A White MILF.
When I was 22, fresh out of college and just starting a job, all my friends and I would look forward to the weekends and blow our money on alcohol and bars. There was a local bar/lounge that was infamously known to have cougars. The drinks were a little bit more, but there was a live band (70′s and 80′s cover) and a dance floor. After a few visits, my buddies and I knew right away this was going to be our go-to spot every weekend (and it was for 2 solid years, before shutting down).
The night this all went down began like any other night. After pre-drinking at a friend’s house (he was the first of the group to get his own place), we made our way over to this bar/lounge. There was about 6 of us, 2 were in serious relationships, so it was really 4 of us always on the prowl. The night felt the same, getting drunk and being the young idiots at an older crowd’s bar. There is no doubt the men there hated us as we always did garner the most attention (good and bad). We did spot 3 women (mid-late 40′s) dancing by themselves (1 being hot, 2 are average), while also being drunk and loud. Bullseye! As we walked over there to join in on the fun, I quickly noticed 2 of the ladies casually slide their wedding ring off. I, being 22, did not think much of it… if I saw that now, I’d jump the gun. After introducing ourselves to them, we find out the hottest one has 2 daughters 18 and 19. She is actually the one we all are trying to go for, but she is more trying to setup us up with one of her daughter. As drinks continue to flow and the dancing starts to get heated, some connections are made and I am paired up with one of the average woman. There’s some light petting on the dance floor, but no making out. 1 AM rolls around and last call for alcohol is right around the corner. As much fun as I had drinking and dancing, I began to lose interest and I was kind of mad as the night was ending and I put all my focus on this 1 lady and the feeling I got was nothing is going to happen.
Last call comes, us 7 (4 guys/3 girls) go take a shot and finally we got what we were seeking for… an invitation back to one of the girl’s place. As we were all waiting outside for a cab, the 4 of us began to discuss who is going after who and at the same time realizing 1 of us is going to get screwed. As we were discussing, the cab pulls up, and one of my friend shoves another friend out of the way and we quickly pile into the cab. A dick move stranding the friend, but to be fair we live in a pretty major city, so it’s not a long distance to get home.
We finally get to the girl’s place (the girl I dancing with) and I find out she now lives alone and was recently divorced (the other 2 were married). Us 6 are sitting around the dining table, chatting, and having a good time. The hottest one even calls her daughter, put her on speaker phone, to tell her she found a great 22 year old guy (my friend) for her to date. The daughter just says “Are you drunk and hanging out with these guys?… serious, Mom”. It was funny, but thinking back, that must’ve been terrible for the daughter to experience that phone call. I quickly excuse myself to go have a cigarette, and as I make my way to the back yard I realize the girl I’ve been hitting it off with follows me out. In my mind, i catch her reflection, but I’m trying to play it cool while smiling ear-to-ear. As I’m smoking, we’re chatting briefly and the conversation is going well, and that’s when she made the move and we started making out heavily outside. She asked me to sit down and she begins to remove my pants and the whole time I am thinking “this is really going to happen… my 1st White girl and she’s a MILF”. As she begins giving me head, I spot the other 4 people kind of watching with 2 of my buddies smiling and giving me the thumbs up. Since it was decently cold out at night, I ask her if we can move this inside to which she obliges.
We quickly make our way inside and to her bedroom, where all our clothes quickly come off. This when I realized my fascination for older women and why I am, to this day, attracted to older women compared to women my age or younger. Her body wasn’t perfect, it had some curves, it wasn’t rock hard… yet, that made me turned on even more. I quickly ask if I can go down on her (I was getting my 1st White MILF, I was being polite so I didn’t blow it). She happily said yes and that’s when I proceeded to have my best muff-diving session, her experienced pussy on my tongue, it was so soft and it tasted amazing. I wanted to please her in every way and eating away for about a good 15 minutes, until my jaw felt sore. She asked to return the favor, but by then I was ready to go so I asked if she was interested in sex, to which she smiled and that was all that I needed. She told me her tubes were tied, so I did not need a condom (score!). Of course, when I look back, how dumb and naive I was to have unprotected sex after picking up a girl from a bar, but at that very moment no one is thinking correctly. She asks me to lie down and climbs on top in cowgirl position and begins to go to town on me. I am sucking on her nipples and gripping her nice ass, while thinking “this is really happening”. After about 3-5 minutes of feeling like a King, I feel her slow down and her pussy grips my cock, while she is lightly convulsing. She stops and just lays down on me, while I’m still rock-hard in her. We began kissing some more and I ask if her if she’s ready for doggy as I still need to cum, she asks me to give her a minute to catch her breathe. As she gets into position, I began to realize how hot she is with her ass up in the air, so I quickly dive right back in licking up her cum, that coupled with her moans almost made me cum right then and there. I quickly get into position and going doggy-style got her going again and she became louder and pretty much slamming back into me as I was almost like a statue. I tell her to let me do the work, so I pound away and as I’m about to cum I pull out and let it unload all over her ass. I go to her bathroom to get some tissues to wipe it all off her and we lay there, sweaty and satisfied. It was probably all the alcohol that led us to those moments, but afterwards we fell asleep in her room.
When the morning rolled around, I was terribly hungover, so I put my clothes back on and tell her that I am leaving. Thankfully my other 2 friends were sleeping in the living room. I woke them up and we got out of her condo complex ASAP. I did get her #, and after a week I called her up. We went and got dinner, but there was no lust or passion there. I definitely chalk it up to the alcohol and that she was recently-divorced.
I hope this story read well… it’s my first time writing an experience and it’s no easy-task. I commend all the people who do write amazing stories.
Follow with the white lines December 2, 2014 at 9:52 am
Deep Penetration November 20, 2014 at 7:19 am
Gym Time November 15, 2014 at 8:24 am
We have a new intellectual and sexy white female fan. She wrote this super hot story for us.
You can find a hot adventure at the gym! Better start pumping iron guys…and ladies!
Saturday morning, as we were eating a light breakfast, he mentioned that he needed to go lift. As soon as he told me he wanted to hit the gym I knew what I was going to do to him. I packed my gym bag with calculated precision. I wanted my ass to look amazing in there.
I drove, chattering away casually on the ride. He rode beside me, placid and in a good mood. Seemingly oblivious to my ravenous, perverse appetite. I couldn’t wait to see him in his workout gear.
At the gym, it was a quiet morning. The whole neighborhood seems to get roaring drunk every Friday and Saturday, and the weekend mornings are so peaceful in the gym. There were just a couple of people using the treadmills and ellipticals as we walked in. “Save me a treadmill next to yours,” i said, and smiled at him. I wanted to wink but figured that was laying it on thick.
“Okay, see you in a minute,” he said and I watched his broad back enter the men’s locker room.
I went into the ladies’ room and changed in a hurry, a little scatterbrained from anticipation. I pulled on my favorite black tank top and some gray running tights that I knew really highlighted my “assets”. Only the best gear for a gym seduction!
When I came out he was already walking on a treadmill, in black running tights and a black t-shirt. He was all covered up, but I could still see his shape. His thick legs and ass looked incredible, so solid. The black complimented his hair and made his golden skin stand out. I made sure to walk around behind him, watching him move, as I climbed up onto the treadmill next to his. I looked up to see him watching me. I grinned, and looked away to fiddle with the treadmill controls in a futile effort to avoid blushing. We jogged some brief intervals for 10 minutes before he wanted to stop. Cardio is the strong suit of neither of us.
We stopped the treadmills and I sauntered over to the weights area. I felt his eyes burning into my back all the way over as he followed. My hips maybe swayed a little more than usual. When I glanced up into the mirrors I caught his eye and smiled. He looked down at the floor and I could tell I was getting to him.
“What do you want to train today?” he asked.
I knew it was up to me to drive this workout onwards if we were going to do more in the gym than stand around blushing and staring at the floor. “Well, I thought maybe we could warm up with some pull ups before we do our tractor tire flips. How does that sound? 괜찮아요?”
He smiled at that and said, “네, 에이미씨”
I loved hearing him speak Korean. It sounded like soft flower petals falling off his shy lips.
He followed me over to the pull-up assist machine and watched as I adjusted the weight, mounted the machine, and struggled through my set. He gave me tips on my form, “Keep your chest forward. Core stays tight. Use your lats, not your biceps. You should feel it here.” He just barely, gingerly touched my lat as I was struggling up. I switched positions and did a set of dips. As I finished and looked up, he was watching silently at my side.
I broke the moment climbing down from the machine and said “All right, your set.”
He replied, “I don’t need the assist; I’ll do mine over here.” He walked over to the regular pull-up bar.
“One day I’ll get there,” I said.
“Oh you will. Just keep working at it,” he said. With that he hopped and took hold of the bar. I stood behind and aside of him, and could see his back working with each clean, disciplined rep. His massive legs hung stil. I looked in the mirror and saw his face, intent on the exercise, staring at a point beyond the bar. His arms and neck were dewy. I stole a furtive glimpse of his package, a subtle bulge in his black tights, but didn’t want him to catch me staring, so I averted my gaze.
After 15 reps he dropped down from the bar and turned to look at me, a big smile on his face.
“Feeling good?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Ready to go get dirty flipping a tire?” I said.
“Ready when you are,” he laughed.
“Come on then,” I said, grinning at him. This was my gym, my territory, and I had to lead the way. I strolled through the gym, grabbed a fresh towel and pushed through the double doors to the outside back lot.
The lot was deserted. Few people came back here – especially in the heat of summer. There were trees for cover but it was still pretty warm. The lot was on a slope, surrounded by a chain link fence. On the other sides of the fence were a few private backyards and the gym parking lot. Beside the doors, tucked away in a corner, a small concrete parking pad was piled with tractor tires of various size. Not a lot of members were into the heavy lifting. The tires had been sitting for a while. The rainstorms from the last week had accumulated inside the tires.
I glanced around for a moment and identified my favorite – the second-largest tire in the pile. My friends and I estimated it weighed about 250 pounds, maybe more. “Here’s the one,” I said. While he watched hesitantly, I planted my feet against the tire, hunkered down and grabbed the treads with my fingertips. I shoved upwards with my legs and butt, and got the tire halfway up before the water inside sloshed all over my front. Then with a grunt I caught the tire with my thigh and repositioned my hands under it to push it up and over. “Heavy.. fucking.. bastard!” The tire landed like a great, noisy rubber penny. It rolled a couple of circles on its edge, slinging water out before settling on the ground again with a hollow thunk: one flip. “Your turn,” I said. “It’s less heavy now. Let’s go down to the lot and back up the hill.”
“Okay,” he said, smiling. I stood back and watched as he got into position behind the tire, his legs, ass and back all flexed and solid delicious muscle as he came up with it, then placing his palms on the underside to finish the flip. The nasty water sloshed out and wet him to his knees, streaming down the hill in front of us. “That’s a pretty heavy tire,” he said.
“I’m sure you could do the heaviest one if you wanted, though,” I said, secretly pleased at his comment.
We kept taking turns quickly flipping down the incline, the tire getting lighter, and us filthier, with each flip. When we reached the bottom I caught my breath for a moment. He looked ready to rock some more. “You’re really strong,” he said, grinning.
“So are you,” I replied. We reveled in the shared endorphin buzz. “Ready to go back up?” I said.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he said.
I started back up the hill. The tire was getting heavier again, and slippery with filthy water as we went back up the incline – steepest at the top. He was really sweating now. It glistened on his arms, neck, and face. His black hair was glittering and dripping. His shirt clung to the muscles in his back. I could see them rippling as he moved. On my last flip I could barely get it up, winded and distracted. The tire slipped from my hand and I caught it awkwardly with my leg. I made a noise of surprise and I felt him jump in just behind me, shoving the tire up and over with me. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m f—” I reeled a half step backwards and bumped into his warm, solid, sweating chest before I turned around, my back whispering the ghost of that touch. I was breathing hard as the scent of him filled my nose, fragrant, musky, masculine. Without even thinking I reached out and laid my right hand flat against his chest. His nipple was a hard bead under my palm as I pressed gently into his muscle and slid my palm upwards to his neck. I looked up and saw his eyes were wide with shock and black with arousal. I stepped an inch closer and clasped him at the waist with my other. He was thick, solid and radiating heat like a furnace. I felt his arms haltingly fold around me, his hands settling just under my shoulderblades.
Then I tilted my face upwards a bit and touched his sweet, salty lips with mine. I could taste his sweat on his lips and felt him exhale shudderingly. My eyes drifted closed as I kissed him gently, no tongue, just soft slow kisses. I didn’t want to frighten him. He was frozen, breathing hard but not moving otherwise. I drew back, licked the sweat off my lips, and studied him. His black eyes opened and I saw a fierce hunger in his expression as he suddenly squeezed me. My breasts crushed against his chest and I felt his whole body against mine. His cock was a definite presence pressing my lower belly. He drove his mouth against mine and moaned. The sound was so desperate. He kissed me hard and I pressed back, and suddenly our tongues were teasing each other. The kissing kept us both panting. I drew away slightly to touch him more.
I threaded my hand up from his neck to his face, stroking his smooth golden cheek. His hair was wet but still brushy and prickled my hand. Who would want dessert if you could devour something this delicious instead? His sweat dripped onto my face and mouth, enveloping me with his scent. I grabbed his short slippery hair and pulled his head back, exposing his thick neck to me fully. I savagely began licking the sweat off his neck, in long firm strokes of my tongue from his collarbone to his jawline. I felt his arms relax their grip on me and slide downwards, his hands resting on the small of my back. A tiny whimper escaped him that drove a stab of lust straight down to my increasingly swollen pussy.
I pressed him away from me, his eyes snapping open in confusion as he let go his arms from around me. “Against the wall in the corner,” I said, and guided him to the corner of the building, out of sight from the parking lot, among the tires. I pressed his shoulders gently but urgently against the cinderblocks. When his back thumped against the wall, I kept him pinned with my left hand, but slid my right down his body. His abs rolled with each breath, so warm and alive with strength. I kissed him again, melting against him, as my hand wandered further south. When I grazed his cock through his tights, he closed me in his arms again and breathed out violently, a silent sigh. I broke the kiss. “Oh, do you like that?” I asked.
“Yes,” he whispered. Still so shy.
“Do you want me to touch you again?” i breathed low against him. He nodded, eyes squeezing shut, chest heaving. “Ask me to touch you.”
His face blushed darkly. “Please” he whispered, after a moment’s hesitation.
“Please what?” I whispered back in his ear, smiling an evil smile he didn’t see.
“Oh, please touch me,” he whispered.
“Here?” With one finger, I stroked the outline of his cock from base to tip.
He nodded wordlessly, eyes still closed.
“All right then,” As much as I love hearing a beautiful man begging to be touched, I couldn’t keep up the teasing for long. I knew what I wanted to do with that cock. I cupped him in my hand and pressed it up against his abdomen. His body was so wet, I wasn’t sure if it was sweat or precum on my hands, but the smell of his arousal hit me again as I massaged his swollen organ through his clothes. He was very firm, like a burning banana standing at attention, and the shy soft weight of his balls below.
I felt his hands slide lower again, over the small of my back, to grasp handfuls of my ample ass. “Yesss” I hissed. It felt amazing to be grasped and my ass cheeks pulled apart. I could feel it all down in my pussy. I arched my back into his hands, and kissed him ravenously again. He kissed back harder now, pushing his tongue into my mouth with evident hunger. We kissed for a few breaths before I pulled my mouth back and said, “I want to taste all of you.”
“Okay,” he groaned, his beautiful black eyes heavy-lidded with lust. His hands squeezed my ass and his cock twitched under my palm. I looked down between us and hooked my fingers into the waistband of his tights, carefully peeling them down. He was silent as I exposed his thick, dusky brown uncut cock. It bobbed up gently as it was freed of the tights, glistening on the pink tip. His balls were dark too, and surrounded by a sparse nest of black hair, sticking wildly out in every direction. I wrapped my hand around his shaft carefully, loving the sight of his foreskin gliding back from the head, before I glanced at his face to see his head thrown back against the wall, eyes half-closed, and biting his lip. My body was electrified by the sight of him so undone by lust. I could feel it running like lightning to my nipples, down my spine, and engorging my pussy. “You look so beautiful,” I said to him.
I slowly fisted his cock a few times, watching his chest heave as he breathed. Then I squatted down in front of him, feeling his hands slide off my butt to rest on my shoulders. I grabbed his hips, and admired the view. His cock bobbed proudly just in front of me. I breathed in his musk deeply as I buried my nose and lips at the base, his soft balls and hair tickling my face. He smelled incredible. I licked a slow path up the underside of his cock. It bounced up and away from my tongue once before landing again.
I love to give fellatio to a man who submits. He lays open the most vulnerable and tender parts of himself and his masculinity to me so that I can give him intense pleasure. Unlike in porn, real fellatio can be an incredibly intimate act of surrender. And so it was with him. I looked up to see him watching. I held his eye contact as I gently, slowly sucked his glans into my mouth. He hissed in a breath between his teeth and threw his head back. Then I concentrated on taking him in. His delicious foreskin slid back and forth over the length of his cock as I held him in my mouth. The smell/taste was indescribable. Salt, musk, soap, lust, precum…
I let go of one hip to impatiently shove my fingers down my own tights, tugging on my swollen labia and bathing my fingers in my juices. I was sopping wet. My fingers circled my clitoris as I pulled away from his cock, taking gasping breaths and peppering him with kisses. I bent lower to gently suck his balls into my mouth, first one then the other, relishing the sweaty skin’s soft texture and his quiet groans above me. Men talk about “balls of steel” to forget just how fragile these parts of themselves are. I love to take them into my mouth – an act of trust, like placing your head in an alligator’s jaws.
I drew his cock back into my mouth and sucked him vigorously for a few minutes until I felt his hand on my head, pulling me away. I stood up, my hand still down my own pants, and looked him in the eye before diving in for a wild and wet kiss. After a moment he broke away, watching my hand idly working my pussy, and asked hesitantly, “Do you need.. do you want me to..”
“I need you to fuck me,” I said. “Right up against this wall.”
“Oh, okay,” he said. He was obviously beyond words at this point.
I broke contact with him and stepped to his side to face the wall. He turned to stand behind me, not touching, but I knew he was watching. I peeled my tights down, jutting my ass out and pulling the fabric tight to make my ass bounce like a bubble as it cleared the elastic. I felt his palm rest on the bare flesh my ass, slick with sweat. “I want to feel you inside me, baby” I said.
I grabbed against the wall with both hands and arched my back, spread my legs as wide as I could. After a split second hesitation, I felt his knuckles and the tip of his cock as he poked around my slippery pussy, trying to slide home. Each motion was exquisite. He rubbed against my clit a few times before he finally pressed into my vagina. The first stroke was shallow as he stretched my pussy open. On the second stroke, I moaned as he pushed his way into me.
“You’re so wet,” he growled as he shoved deeper.
“Oh, fuck me,” I said. We soon found a rhythm, urgent and fierce. Our bodies slapped wetly together, his balls smacking my clitoris as his penis massaged my insides. I squeezed him experimentally with my kegel muscles and he groaned instantly. “You like it when I squeeze you?” I teased breathlessly. “That pussy hug?” Talking filthy made me blush crimson even now.
“Yeah,” he groaned, fucking me with firm, deep strokes. I started squeezing around his cock rhythmically. “Ohh” he moaned, his strokes becoming more erratic. I reached down and masturbated while he fucked me, keeping up the kegels until the orgasm ripped through me, and the pulsing in my vagina was no longer voluntary. I cried out as I rode the waves, the intense rush of pleasure blanking out my brain. He was still fucking me, moaning with each stroke as he got closer to coming.
“Come in me, baby,” I said, when I could get my tongue to speak words again. “I want to feel it.”
He moaned again and muttered, “Coming!” as I felt him drive violently into me, pressing up against my cervix and then felt the pulsations from him as he emptied his balls inside me. After a few lazy, twitching extra pumps with his softening cock, we were still for a moment as we caught our breath. He ran his hands down my back and ass as he slid, spent, from my soaking vagina. I could feel his come inside me, slowly oozing out of my pussy as I stood up, pulled up my sodden tights, and turned around.
I watched him stuff himself back into his clothes uncomfortably. He put one hand on the wall above me to brace himself, and I wrapped my arms around his big back. I looked into his black eyes as he smiled sheepishly. We shared a half-embarrassed laugh, before our mouths met for a long, sated kiss.
“Good workout?” I said, grinning.
“Best I’ve had in a long time,” he replied.
Episode 3! November 5, 2014 at 2:54 am
Squidkid Support! October 30, 2014 at 2:28 pm
Lucky Anal Asian October 20, 2014 at 11:43 pm
From our fan AMWFlovefetish October 9, 2014 at 8:31 pm
We have a hot and sexy story from a fellow fan. Let him know what you think.
His email: firstname.lastname@example.org
“Thank God She Has an Asian Fetish” by AMWFlovefetish
“Others can suggest limitations for us. But only we can impose them …”
I have decided to finally share my story to not only encourage my fellow Asian brothers desiring relationships with non-Asian women, but also in response to noticing lately many young White women posting their own blogs about being made to feel ashamed or guilty by mean comments from people about their interests in Asian men. These young ladies were being harassed that just their being open-minded to Asian guys was proof of them having an “Asian fetish” and that they were evil.
I wish to share my story after being distressed reading so many young WF posting online of being harassed because they are in relationships with AM.
They are made to feel ashamed or guilty for having an “Asian fetish”. Well, my story is that Thank God for WF with Asian fetishes, because that’s how I got my first WF! And come to think of it, all the WF I slept with were willing to do so because they had Asian fetishes that overrided all the endless anti-Asian-Male programming of the Western society and Hollywood.
White chicks with Asian fetishes (for Asian men) rule!
Well, speaking as an Asian man who is appreciative of non-Asian women, I wish to share my story of how thankful Asian men are for the White women out there with fetishes for us, and who are proud of it.
We can only dream and hope that there would be more of you out there…
2006. Me to my then-girlfriend, Chinese: “I promise myself, before I die I will bury my face between a white girl’s legs.”
Present day. I have buried my face between a white girl’s legs and then some.
And long legs they are — she’s 5-9 in bare feet, a former model who used to get paid to tan.
We met a couple hours earlier at a party thrown by a mutual acquaintance. She made an immediate impression when she entered — tall, outgoing, with strong bone structure and a stylish haircut.
A face that Helen of Troy would be envious of. And those breasts… My god… Every one, man and woman, couldn’t help but take notice of such a walking model of perfection.
In the first few minutes after she arrived, she managed to reveal to the room that she spoke French and had modeled in Europe for a long time.
At some point later in the evening, I suddenly found her at my shoulder. She was beaming. And indirectly asking about my relationship status: “So you’ve got a girlfriend — she couldn’t make it?”, or something else transparent like that.
I recognized her hint of interest for what it was and kept my cool. Not only did I answer in a non-needy way, I was brutally honest — our relationship had gone through the wringer, my heart was broken and so on. But I made clear that the split was definite, that I wasn’t pining over her.
She gave me a similar story of her own. We proceeded to banter for 10 or 15 minutes about nothing consequential. Truth be told, I wasn’t keeping track of conversation threads. I was gauging her interest by disqualifying myself (“What do you do?” “I’m unemployed.”), putting on mini-vacuums, eye coding elsewhere in the room and varying the openness of my body language. She double- and triple-checked on the subject of whether I had a girlfriend, probably to test my congruence.
I concluded that I wasn’t being nearly as interesting as her behavior made me seem. All systems go.
We’d exchange numbers, at the very least. Or that’s what I figured until I suddenly saw her in the foyer, bundled up and ready to leave. She hadn’t said goodbye to me, hadn’t even looked in my direction.
Maybe her buying temperature had dropped. Maybe she got cold feet. Or maybe the social pressure was too high.
Only one way to know for sure.
I gave her a 10-second head start out the door, then said my own goodbyes, bundled up and left.
I was expecting to catch up with her outside. But I made it down only one flight of steps before I heard her voice, a floor below me. She had stopped on the landing.
“Are you following me?” she asked, coyly.
“No,” I said when I reached her. “Are you waiting for me?”
She laughed and turned to continue down the steps.
And she reached back for my hand.
As soon as we got outside, she put her arm in mine. She announced that she was drunk and that she didn’t know where we were going (translation: “Take advantage of me!”), and I said the same, along with, “Are you kidnapping me?” Role reversal.
I noticed through all this that she was walking with purpose. And so was I.
She questioned me again about following her, and I teased her for waiting. After a couple rounds of this, she made her intentions known:
“I think you’re really attractive.”
That was all I needed to hear. I stopped her in her tracks, pulled her close and kissed her, tongue and all. No pullback.
Just as quickly, I pushed her away and killed the momentum by introducing everyday topics — biographical info and the weather, for instance. I dropped in “Where do you live”? — that oldie-but-goodie. We continued walking, and I stopped her intermittently to kiss her again.
“Let’s have one more drink,” she said. She needed a little more coaxing, apparently.
We passed a couple blocks without seeing a bar. Then her request changed:
“Take me to the subway. I’m going home.”
Buzzkill. I decided that if we did find a station nearby, I would send her off by herself. I wasn’t up for pumping her BT under the glare of fluourescent lights, with a Greek chorus of bums watching. (It was past midnight.)
But another couple blocks went by, and no subway station. She admitted that she didn’t know where we were.
I took that as my cue to hail a cab. When we got inside, I kept my mouth shut. We hadn’t said where we were going, so whatever directions she gave to the cabbie would be the final sexual IOI I was looking for.
To her place, she said.
The making-out resumed. Mind you, I hadn’t even broached the topics of sex or going to her place at this point. But that’s not my style. Some guys are dominant and highly sexual; I happen to be safe and comforting.
I have no problem with building sexual tension. But I save the explicit talk until the threshold of no return.
“The rush of water, to the point of tossing rocks about. This is shih.
The strike of a hawk, at the killing snap. This is the node.
Therefore, one skilled at battle –
His shih is steep.
His node is short.”
She let loose with assorted ASD phrases as the cab drove: “This is crazy!” “I just met you!” “I don’t even know you!”
I said in return, “I didn’t know you existed before tonight.” My meaning: I’m no better off than you in this situation, and I’m not responsible for assuaging your anxiety.
The ride wore on. She went to telling me how sexy she thought I was, how much she liked my hair (amid grabbing handfuls of it).
Then she said what had to be one of the most beautiful phrases I’ve ever heard from a woman:
“I have an Asian fetish.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. There was a god after all.
“I fucking LOVE Asian men,” she told me looking full into my almond-shaped dark eyes with a smiling sensual gleam in her own. “…I love FUCKING Asian guys… I feel you should know.”
Oh my god. She should have just told me this sooner.
I put my arms around her and kissed her full on the lips for the longest, most heartfelt and sensual kiss I ever gave a woman in my life. She returned in full passion.
And a little later, she said those other magic words:
“I’m taking you home with me.”
At her place, she was quick to get me on the couch and start stripping the both of us, with the lights full on. This woman knew what she wanted and wasn’t shy about it.
I took the dominance at one point by picking her up, to peals of laughter, and cavemanning her into the bedroom.
I never had my dick sucked by a White woman before, but had heard many times how they’re the best at giving head in the world. My god, what an understatement. The way she used her whole mouth from her lips to her tongue, the insides of her cheeks, her drool and the way she licked the strands and blew bubbles with it mixed with my precum, and how she used her whole throat… it was almost an out of body experience she gave me and I couldn’t help but strain to hold back but the pleasures she was giving me were too great. I exploded rope after rope of hot gooey cum into her French mouth, which she took with deep moans like only a French girl can make sound so feminine and lusty at the same time. She opened wide for me to see her gargle my sperm before she drank my cum before my eyes and flashed me a bright smile.
I swear I could have died the happiest man right then and there. But I had a favor to return.
I laid her on her back on her bed and slipped off her panties revealing the smoothest skin and the prettiest, hairless pinkest pussy I have ever seen, even counting all the countless pictures and videos of White women’s pussies I’ve lusted at online. But here, in real life, I was face to face with the holiest of holies. Without going into too much detail, I ate and drank from her pussy like she was God Herself and her juices were the waters of life.
By the time I drank her dry, my own cock was rock hard and full of more seed for her pussy this time. I knew I would last a long time because she had just milked my cock of my sperm earlier.
I was grateful, too, because it let me fuck this French blonde goddess like a seasoned professional for about an hour before I had to cum again, this time inside of that precious pink pussy I had always dreamed of prior to meeting her.
The next morning, though, she suddenly got distraught and told me I had to leave right away. A bit anticlimactic an end, and she didn’t give me her number or even her email after, so I left empty-handed but also pleasurably empty-balled. I really shouldn’t complain. Most guys want no commitments. Then again, I’m not most guys, and neither was a goddess like her just any ordinary girl.
Looking back, I don’t know if I should have pressed her to keep in touch, but I am thankful for what we shared. That she has a self-admitted fetish for Asian guys when she can have any man of any color she wants was icing on the cake I got to have and eat too, and it comforts me to know there are women like her out there for the next Asian brother with dreams of burying his face between the long legs of a beautiful White girl…hopefully one with an Asian fetish, who happens to be French…
Fan Submission! September 23, 2014 at 7:17 am
This super fan has been checking out the pages for a long time. He finally got around to uploading his own video.
We are honored today be his video. Takes a lot of courage to post videos and we give him kudos.
Let’s all enjoy and be inspired by this hot cream pie vid!
Click on the image to watch the video.