I decided to try my hand at erotic fiction and started a fictional story that will be multiple chapters, but as I was writing it I thought what if people don’t like it? So for my first story, I am going to post a true story. I intended it to be just one chapter, but it got too long.
I do get off topic a few times but feel it is needed to be written so people will get a better understanding of me, the situation I was in when the story takes place, why I did it and stepped way out of my comfort zone, and what I enjoy and don’t enjoy sexually.
I do apologize that it will be a two-chapter story now. The story is based on the photos I have in an album on my profile. If you have not seen them yet, I am sorry but I moved them to a private folder now. The story takes place in April of this year, 2023.
I was sitting in my office at work and enjoying the quiet and being alone so I could get more work done. It was a Wednesday afternoon and the college was on Spring Break. Even the other office and administration personnel were not in that day. Everyone took advantage of the week off.
My name is Mei-Xiang, pronounced May -Shang but everyone calls me Mei. I am thirty-six and have been divorced for two and a half years and we had no children. I had known my husband since high school, he was two years ahead of me in school, but we did not start dating until I was twenty-six. I can’t even remember if we had even spoken to one another in high school. It was a private school and not a large public school so we just knew of each other.
Honestly, I think he knew of me more than I knew of him because I had gotten my picture taken and published in the school newsletter and the local paper several times for winning golf tournaments. My husband and I were only married for five years before we got divorced.
My ex is not a bad guy and we never cheated on each other and he was not abusive. While we could not seem to live together very well, we were totally compatible sexually. We had great sex. Even though we had been dating for about a year and a half before we got engaged and were engaged for another year, we didn’t know each other well enough to get married.
My previous occupation required me to travel constantly. I was on the LPGA tour. I traveled extensively within the US during the season and then in Europe when I played for the Women’s European Golf Tour. While I was never on the Asian tour, I had been to Japan and South Korea to play. When I quit the tour, after finally realizing I was not as good as the top women golfers, we got married quickly. Then things fell apart.
The first two years were good but after that, they were not. We seemed to never settle our arguments and just ended up having sex, sometimes angry sex, and the argument went unresolved. Not a healthy relationship. So we divorced amicably. We didn’t stay in touch; we saw no need to and wanted to move on with our lives. We didn’t have children so that made it much easier.
After I left the Tour, I got a job at a local college in the city where I was born and grew up. It is a small, all-girl, private, prestigious, Liberal Arts College. I got a job working in the admissions office. I got the job for two reasons. One I am Chinese and speak and write Mandarin and Cantonese fluently and also because my mother is a professor at the college. I also got my BA degree in business from the college by going part-time. Since my mother was a professor there, I did not have to pay tuition and that was hard not to take advantage of.
Why was my being Chinese and fluent in Mandarin and Cantonese important? Because the college I work at the student body has a high percentage of Chinese students. I don’t mean a higher number than other colleges or universities but a high percentage compared to students from other countries. The college’s entire student body is only on average about 700 students. Chinese students made up the majority of our foreign student body.
Besides working in admissions I also acted as a liaison for the Chinese girls and helped them get adjusted to their four years in the US. I loved it even if sometimes it was difficult because the girls at times could have a hard time adjusting and comprehending how much freedom they had.
It was also sometimes difficult when the young girls found out how much freedom they had and went rather wild. The majority of them were from families who had strong ties and were members of the communist party. It was considered an honor for their fathers to send them to college.
Again you may ask yourself why? Chinese are very traditional people and even the communist are the same, of course, their traditions start when the communist party took control of China. It was an honor because of three sisters, the Soong sisters.
Soong Ai-ling, Soong Mei-ling, and Soong Ch’ing-ling were sisters and were born into the richest family in China at the time. All three girls played a prominent role in Chinese politics and the Communist Party after the Communists took over China. Influencing their husbands, leaders of Nationalist China: Sun Yat Sen, Chiang Kai-shek, and H. H. Kung. All three men were the top leaders in the new Chinese communist country. The sisters used their positions of power and influence and ultimately changed the course of Chinese history. They all three attended and graduated from the college I worked for.
As I was sitting at my desk in my office going over applications I kept thinking about another reason I decided to come to work on a Wednesday during the Spring break when I could be at home relaxing. I needed to get out of the house and keep my mind occupied with something else. I was horny. I had been for the past few days and I needed something to distract me from thinking about sex. It was too chilly outside to play golf for pleasure and unlike competitions where I had to play in bad weather. I had no errands to run, so I came to work.
I had not had sex in over six months. Not since I ended the last and only relationship I was in since my divorce. I had started dating a black man, no not my first. He was a year older than me and I know it is so cliché to write this, but in him the cliché about black men and penis size was true. Was not like that with the first black man I dated. Not that I cared about penis size. It was just a shock when I first saw it and even after six months after our relationship ended and the number of times we had sex or I had his penis in my mouth, I still can’t believe that thing fit inside me is why I mentioned it.
We dated for a little over eight months and I thought we had something nice and special. I was starting to think more in terms of a long-term relationship with him but found out he was cheating on me. I ended the relationship.
He didn’t seem to care when I broke up with him. I was not heartbroken but I was a little hurt and upset, but more embarrassed with myself for being a fool and not knowing he had been cheating on me during our entire relationship. Or maybe I was the one he was cheating with and he was in a relationship with the other girl?
Before I go any further I want to explain that I am stepping way out of my comfort zone by writing this true story. I am not the type of woman who does around talking about or bragging about her sex life. That has always been a private thing for me. I am not the type of woman who has one-night stands or one-time-only sexual encounters. This was my first.
Even joining Lush and posting the photos I posted and the few people I have chatted with are stepping way outside my comfort zone.
I am rather a shy person, not introverted, I enjoy being around people and in crowds. I just can be shy with someone until I know them better and then I will open up more. Once you do get to know me; I can be rather annoying by talking too much.
Being shy does not mean that I don’t enjoy sex. I am a very sexual and sensual person. I love sex! Sex is great! I am not into the kinky stuff, however. I do only four kinky things sexually and most people would not even consider them kinky at all.
Being as horny as I had been for the past three or four days I even thought about calling the black man I was dating just to hook up with him for a night to satisfy my needs, but I didn’t. That would not have been a good idea. I could have masturbated to satisfy my desires, but I was not into masturbating much at all to relieve my sexual tension.
That does not mean I never masturbated, I did; but to me, masturbation was more of a stress reliever and not something I did to relieve my sexual frustrations. When I was playing on the Tour I was under a lot of stress to win or at least finish in the top ten and I masturbated quite often then to help relieve it.
Some of the women drink, some do drugs, some go out for a night on the town, some have random sexual hook-ups with different men or women, some gamble, some fight, and some do other things to relieve stress. I masturbated.
Some players I knew on Tour had sex to relieve stress. I won’t give names because if people follow the LPGA they would know who I was talking about, but I knew several of the girls that would have random hookups constantly to relieve stress. Married, had a boyfriend, or were engaged, they didn’t care. Sex was their stress relief.
Sex could be my stress relief also, and it was when I had the opportunity to have sex. I didn’t get that a lot because my husband, then my boyfriend and later fiancée rarely traveled with me due to his job and I didn’t do random hookups. So I masturbated.
One particular example is rather humorous. At least now it is; when it happened it was not and it took me at least a year to find humor in it.
I was playing on the Ladies European Tour and we were in Ireland playing the Women’s Irish Open at Portmarnock Golf Club in Dublin. It is a links-style course and I hate link-style courses. Due to their openness and lack of trees, they look easy but they are far from it. I won’t go into detail about the reasons why I don’t like them. I have to agree with the great Bobby Jones when he had his first experience on a link-style course from across the pond when he first played Old Course at St. Andrews, the Grand Ole Lady. The oldest golf course in the world.
He played so poorly that he picked up his ball on the 11th hole and walked off the course. Later he expressed how much he hated the prestigious course. But unlike Bobby Jones, who went on to win The British Open at St. Andrews the next year, I never played well on link-style courses.
I played exceptionally well the first two days, which was surprising, and was in the top ten. I had hopes that I could even finish in the top ten. That would have been great for my career and finically as well. Not only would the amount of money I would get from the purse be substantial but it would also help with endorsement deals. I had endorsements, but if I finished in the top ten a new endorsement contract would be more than I was already receiving. Then the third day of play it all fell apart.
I was doing well on the first three holes. I had made a par, a birdie, and another par. On the fourth hole, I hit a nice tee shot but my second shot into the green ended up in the bunker. Those damn pothole bunkers they had! More like deep bomb craters! You couldn’t even see over the lip of them they were so deep. I hit a nice shot out of the bunker and my ball landed five feet from the hole and I would have a nice easy putt for par. Getting the ball out of the bunker had seemed easy. Getting myself out was a different story.
As I was climbing out of the bunker, I slipped and fell back into it. No, I didn’t fall back into it. I did a backward summersault into the bunker! Embarrassed, I brushed the sand off of me, started to climb out, slipped again, and rolled back to the bottom of the bunker. I slipped a third time and again rolled to the bottom of the bunker. The gallery was laughing at me and so were my three playing partners and even my caddy. Finally, my caddy held out the bunker rake and pulled me out. I was humiliated and lost my concentration.
I ended up missing that easy five-foot putt and even missed the next one. I then imploded that day and things got worse from there. I ended up ten over for the day and dropped not only out of the top ten but out of the top twenty. I felt worse than Greg Norman at the 1996 Masters. Norman said after he blew the Master’s win that he must have drunk every bottle of liquor in his hotel suite. I am only an occasional, social drinker but I knew how he felt.
To make matters worse, that night on ESPN Sports Center I made the blooper category. Millions of people saw me fall and roll down into that bunker not once, but three times! I was so stressed that I screamed aloud in my hotel room. I need something to relieve my stress so I must have masturbated five times that night.
It didn’t help, the next day was worse. Some of the other women had found a photo of me online that a photographer had shot. It was one of me after my first tumble back into the bunker. How did I know it was not the first? My photo was a perfect shot of me tumbling backward, my short golf skirt was up over my waist. I had been wearing thongs that day, as I always did when I played, and they and the built-in underlining of the skirt wedged into my butt crack and my pussy and gave me a small camel toe. The wedgie didn’t happen until after the first time I tumbled down. It was humiliating.
I didn’t wear thongs to be sexy, I wore them for comfort. I didn’t wear them all the time but they were more comfortable to wear than other types of panties when wearing skinny jeans, or tight shorts or pants and they didn’t give embarrassing panty lines.
I wore them when I played golf because there was a lot of walking and the thongs didn’t bunch up as other panties did. It was not very attractive having to occasionally dig underwear out of your butt crack in front of hundreds of people.
Golf is not an easy game and a game of high concentration and once you lose and start making mental mistakes it’s almost impossible to recover.
I played worse on the last day and ended up tied for forty-third in the tournament.
So here I was at work on a day off and trying to get my mind off of sex and it was not helping. All I could seem to think about was my previous relationship and his, yes I am going to say it, big black cock, or the great sex I used to have with my now ex-husband, who was a white man and didn’t have a big white cock but what he had the man damn sure knew how to use on me and would use it often.
I was making photocopies outside of my office when the door to the area I worked in suddenly opened and it startled me. I recovered and smiled when I saw it was only Dwaine.
Dwaine was nineteen and worked in maintenance while he was going to the local tech school to get his certification in heating and air repair. I had known the boy when he was sixteen and worked part-time in maintenance with his father, who got him the job. He did odd jobs around campus including some landscape work.
Dwaine was a nice kid and very sweet and respectful. He seemed to like me a lot and would talk to me often when he came by the office to do work or drop off work orders, etc. The other women in the office said he had a crush on me, but I doubted it.
The reason why I doubted it was because Dwaine was very good-looking and he worked at an all-girl college. Basically, he had a harem of girls at his disposal. It did not go unnoticed by me or others how a lot of the students flirted and some downright threw themselves at the boy ever since he came to work there at age sixteen.
During the hot summer and fall days at the beginning of the school year and the hot spring days at the end of the school year, it was not uncommon to see some of the girls sunbathing on the roof of the Porter Hall dormitory in their bikinis. It was not uncommon to see them stand up and call out to and wave to Dwaine as he rode by shirtless on a riding lawn mower or was shirtless trimming the bushes next to the building as they “innocently” posed their young bodies for the boy to see.
I was pretty sure the boy spent many days and nights in one girl or another’s dorm room or in their on-campus apartment. But that was their business, not mine. I was not their mother or his and what they did was none of my concern.
Dwaine never flirted with me when we talked, just casual conversation. He would tell me I looked nice sometimes or compliment me on my clothes but that was it. I never flirted with him either. Not that I did not like flirting. I liked to flirt and found it harmless and fun. Dwaine was just too young to flirt with even if he was so good-looking. If he had been about ten years older, I would have flirted harmlessly with him and if he was fifteen years older I would have flirted with him less harmlessly hoping he would ask me on a date.
The boy stood about six feet, maybe an inch taller. He had a nice body I did feel guilty about looking at when I saw him shirtless. It was not a chiseled, muscular physique, even though he did have prominent biceps and thick, muscular forearms. Dwaine had a more manual labor-type masculine body that was thick in his hairy chest and stomach but not at all fat. His stomach was thick but flat. I did tend to enjoy his hairy chest. I am attracted to masculine-looking and acting men and like a hairy chest on a man. Men who shave their chest and or body do nothing for me. Dwaine wore his light brown hair cut short but was styled to appear unkempt.
“You startled me,” I told the boy and smiled at him. “What are you doing here? I thought everyone was taking the week off.”
“Sadly not me. Someone has to be here in case the place catches fire,” the boy smiled at me and waved a clipboard he was holding at me, “It’s a little after three and I am on my way home. Just had to drop off these work orders?”
“Is it that late?” I had not realized it was that late in the afternoon. Dwaine nodded. “I just came to do some work since everyone is gone and thought it would be a good time to catch up. I didn’t have any plans over the break anyway but to hang around my place and relax.”
“Well you certainly look relaxed and comfortable,” he told me and I blushed as he chuckled at the way I was dressed.
I was not dressed for anyone to see me. Now comes a part of writing a story I don’t like. Describing myself. The reason I don’t like it is that I don’t like to come off as vain or even narcissistic because I am neither of those things. I am rather humble about my looks. That is not to say I don’t think I am attractive or even go so far as to say I am pretty. I think I am and so do other people based on what I have heard them say about me or what they tell me.
I am a third-generation Asian-American but prefer to just be referred to as an American. I don’t have any mixed race in my bloodline so you could say I am pure-blood Chinese, haha. While my family liked my ex-husband, they were disappointed I did not marry a Chinese man. I just am not attracted to Asian men. I am attracted to white and black men.
While I do speak both Mandarin and Cantonese fluently and am told by people whose first language is one of those that I speak with very little of an American accent, I do not have a Chinese accent when I speak my first langue of English. I was born and raised in the Southern US and have a slight Southern accent. It’s not prominent or twangy but it is slightly there. I do drop my “Gs” at the end of words sometimes such as saying fixin’ instead of fixing or goin’ instead of going and I do say “y’all”.
I am five feet eight inches tall, the tallest female in my family. Like all the women in my family, I have a slender build with not many curves to it. I do have slight hips but a small skinny somewhat flat butt. I think it’s a cute butt, just not very curvy. My breasts are small but nicely shaped and tipped with small, light brown areolas and pink nipples that become a darker pinkish red when they get erect and I get aroused.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not ashamed of my body. I am not ashamed of my small breasts or skinny butt. I like my body and I think it’s a nice body and I do think it’s attractive. I was just trying my best to describe myself. There is only part of my body I get embarrassed about the first time someone sees it and wish it was different than it is.
I guess now is a good time as any to mention what I am talking about since it will be in the story. I have what I consider an odd-looking pussy that personally don’t feel comfortable with people looking at, until I get more comfortable with them. It’s due to my inner labia, my pussy lips.
I don’t have what some people crudely refer to as a fat pussy, but my inner pussy lips are large and a dark color whereas the rest of my pussy does not have a dark complexion to it. What makes it worse is the lips are not long, I don’t have a long pussy slit, but they are large and puffy and they and my clit hood protrude out from my pussy. My clit hood, while it is prominent, is not dark in color, but it is puffy also and it hides what I think is a larger-than-normal-sized clit. My clit is not very large or obscene looking, but larger than those of girls I have seen photos of.
Yes, I have seen what other girls’ vaginas look like, not because it turns me on or because I am into porn, which I am neither of. I have seen them because of the way I feel about how my pussy looks and I wanted to compare to see what a more normal pussy looks like. I did that twice, looking at photos of other girls’ vaginas. The first was when I was seventeen after the first boy I had sex with commented on my labia and clit hood and clit.
He was not saying anything mean about it, he found it unique he said and seemed quite interested and turned on by it I gathered by how he kept playing with it. My ex-husband, then just my boyfriend, was giving me oral sex one night and teased me about it also.
He told me it looked like a Venus flytrap that was shut and sealed tight and how it would open up when aroused as it waited for more prey and exposed the pink inside of my sex. I did not like the metaphor of it being compared to a Venus flytrap and did not like the metaphor of how it would open up to wait for more prey as in a man’s penis was my pussy’s prey. I got off the bed, got dressed, and left his apartment. I didn’t speak to him for about three days after I was so mad.
The second time I was looking at photos of other women’s vaginas was when I was sitting in a plastic surgeon’s office and seriously considering having my labia surgically altered to look more “normal”. I came very close but I didn’t because when I talked to my ex-husband about it he asked me not to.
He told me it was sexy and he liked it and preferred it if I didn’t. We had only been married for about eight months and in that honeymoon stage and still all googoo gaga over one another so I listened to him. Besides, we were at the stage of our marriage where every time we just looked at one another we wanted to fuck, and if I had the surgery we would have to go without sex for a few months. Neither of us wanted that to happen.
While I have never been with a man who thinks it’s repulsive as I think it is. I have been told by all four of my previous lovers, lovers as in people I have dated and considered my boyfriend or I was married to, tell me it’s sexy and they liked it. However, I am embarrassed by it and no one can convince me not to be even though they have tried. I get annoyed and sometimes angry when they do try to convince me.
I dislike it so much that when I masturbate I rarely penetrate my pussy with my fingers. Just the thought of having to touch it is not appealing to me. Yes, I have been called weird because I feel that way, but that’s me.
I have almond-shaped wide eyes that are black, black silky hair that is straight and I try and keep it so it comes down past my shoulders to my upper back. I typically wear it up but that day I just brushed it and left it alone after o got out of the shower. I have a nice smooth blemish-free alabaster complexion. I liked the shape of my face and my full lips. I have great lips! Ok go ahead and make your dirty comments now, I have heard them before. I don’t mind them.
I mentioned I was not a vain person about my looks, but maybe I am about my lips. I love my lips and I like compliments on them even dirty comments about them when doing the sexual act some are thinking about as they read this. I will even exaggerate the visual of my lips when giving a blowjob and purse exaggeratedly as I lift my head and slide my mouth up a man’s shaft.
That day I was dressed for comfort and was not wearing makeup and dressed in very casual clothes. I left the house not thinking anyone would see me. I was wearing a long black skirt that came down to my ankles that was made of thick cotton sweatpants material with a drawstring waist. This will be our little secret; I picked them up out of my dirty clothes hamper that morning. I was wearing an unfashionable white peasant-style blouse and black sweater combination. The blouse portion was more like a liner for the sweater.
Even though it was April, it was still in the mid-sixties that day due to a cold snap we typically had in the spring in the south and I do not like being cold or chilly. Under the top, I was not wearing a bra. I did not need one that day. My small, firm round breasts didn’t need support and with the top I was wearing no one would be able to see anything anyway because it was slightly bulky. On my feet, I had on black nylon knee-high socks and pink cheaply made faux leather sandals with ankle straps. I know they didn’t match and wearing socks of any type with sandals was a major fashion faux pas, but they were comfortable.
I was dressed like a five-year-old girl who decided to dress herself for her first day of school. I didn’t care, I was darn comfy!
“You look good like that,” Dwaine added after I fake pouted dramatically at his comment and pretended it upset me. “I mean…well…you always look good and pretty and…and…you could wear nothing and look good,” the boy stammered nervously. “Oh, shit, I didn’t mean it like that.”
It was my turn to laugh at him and I did. I have a very good sense of humor and enjoy humor and practical jokes, as long as they don’t hurt people. I liked to humorously tease people and to be teased myself as long as it didn’t become offensive and knowing to stop if the person was getting upset. I also liked sexual humor if it was not too crude and liked going to comedy clubs to listen to professional comedies and their filthy words didn’t offend me. Jokes about racial stereotypes told by professional comedians didn’t offend me either, because I knew it was just comedy and not the comedian’s personal feelings.
“I am sure you would like to see me naked,” I teased the boy. I found Dwaine’s embarrassment amusing. “All sprawled out on the desk showing what I have.”
Derrick laughed and to my disappointment was no longer embarrassed. “Yeah, I would,” he told me seriously. “I would bet you would like to see me naked and sprawled out over a desk also.”
I laughed again. “I would not have to see it. If I wanted to know I am sure all I would have to do is ask any girl on campus what it looked like and they could tell me,” I told him. The “it” I was referring to was his penis.
The boy grinned and placed his clipboard on the desk that was outside of the offices that were used by the receptionist. The receptionists were typically students who volunteered to work in the office. He grinned because he picked up on the “it” reference.
“No, that’s not true. Only about half the girls on campus.” He said smiling.
I did like his honesty even if I knew he was boasting and half would be an exaggeration. The boy could have fed me some line about how he only wanted to see me naked or was only interested in me or something of that nature to try and flatter me.
We flirted back and forth for quite some time. I made the boy chuckle and laugh several times and he made me giggle and blush several times.
Dwaine suddenly took a step closer to me and I backed up a little until my butt was pressed against the copy machine. If I had known at that moment what the late afternoon and into the evening was to happen I should have stepped away and not backed up. Not that what was to happen was not enjoyable, oh it was extremely enjoyable, but after I did feel slightly guilty about what happened and also highly humiliated about another thing that happened. I am getting ahead of myself.
“I always wanted to know something about Asian girls,” Dwaine said as he was still grinning.
I think he was amused by me now. I got the feeling that he found that the tables were being turned funny. I had thought to tease Dwaine and embarrass him but now he was the one teasing me and trying to embarrass me.
I laughed because I knew what he was referring to. Something I had not heard since I was way younger than I am now. Something to do with an Asian woman’s vagina. Of course, I knew he was not serious and that was why I laughed.
“No, our pussies are just like other girls,” I teased. “Which I am pretty sure you already know.”
I wanted to take control of the situation and embarrass Dwaine again. I had no issue saying pussy when I was referring to a woman’s vagina. I didn’t go around saying it all the time in a normal conversation of course, but when referring to a woman’s sex I used it. I thought using the word vagina sounded silly and too medical. Plus I was a woman and women have pussies.
While I didn’t curse much in conversation I also had no problem using the word fuck to describe sex. Whether it was hard sex or gentle and passionate lovemaking, it was still fucking.
“I really don’t know,” he teased me back. “Maybe you could show me yours?”
I doubt he was telling the truth about not knowing. There were Chinese girls on campus and not all were sweet and innocent and as sheltered as they pretended to be, and some did end up meeting white boys and dated them.
Dwaine had taken another step closer as he spoke and I put my hands on his chest to push him away, but I didn’t push him away. I liked the feel of his hard chest and the smell of his masculinity, he didn’t stink of body odor and had not been sweating while working, but there was that scent on him, that natural smell of a man I enjoyed.
I am attracted to masculine men, both black and white men. I like a man who is a man and masculine. I am attracted to a man who does not shave his chest or trim it or shave or trim his pubic area. A man who shaves those places is a turn-off for me.
While Dwaine was only nineteen and at age thirty-six, I did not go for younger men, there was sexual tension in the room. At least I felt it, I don’t know about Dwaine.
“You are the one who brought up sprawling on the desk naked and showing me,” the boy reminded me.
I bit my lower lip, a habit. It was not a habit I had when nervous but one I had when I was concentrating or even scared. I was both at that moment.
I was concentrating on several things. The sexual tension in the room I felt, me being horny as hell for the last few days, and the ramifications of what if I did have sex with Dwaine. Yes, by then I was thinking about it. I know it would be so wrong due to the fact he was seventeen years younger than me but to justify it I thought here was someone I could use to put an end to my sexual frustrations; at least for a while. Yes, my intention if I did decide to have sex with him was just to use the boy, but Dwaine was not going to mind it at all I was sure.
I was also scared about the consequences of what was potentially going to be our actions. I only wanted a one-time thing with the boy and what if he didn’t understand that and wanted more than that? Honestly, it was a frightening thought since we did work at the same place and I would see him after.
I was not afraid he would tell anyone. At least anyone we mutually knew. I was pretty sure he would brag to his friends about banging a pretty, thirty-six-year-old Chinese woman. But what the hell, I didn’t know his friends and would never meet them.
People we both knew he would never tell. He would never tell his father of course, who also still worked there. I highly doubted they had that kind of perverted relationship where they exchanged sex stories. The women I worked with in the office, of course, he wouldn’t tell them. Nor would he tell the students he may or may not have hooked up with or will hook up with. Unlike some guys believe, most girls don’t get turned on when a guy starts talking about the other girls he had sex with. Oh, I am sure there are some and was some on campus, some of these girls could be freaky based on things I have overheard, but I highly doubted Dwaine would do that.
“You can’t tell anyone and I don’t want to do it here,” I told the boy. I had made up my mind quickly that I was going to have sex with Dwaine. “And it’s a one-time thing. Just this once and never again.”
I was very adamant about that. I did not want an affair, even if just a sexual one, with a nineteen-year-old boy. He was just going to be my one-time lover to help me relieve my sexual frustration and that was it.
Yes, I knew I could have gone out and cruised the local clubs and could have easily gotten picked up by a man, but as I mentioned, I could be shy when I first meet someone until I got to know them. Dwaine I knew and I talked with on occasion. Honestly, even though he was young and may not know all the ways to please a woman sexually, he was perfect for what I needed right then.
Dwaine gave me a look of confusion. He had not expected my response and must have just thought we were teasing one another. I could have used that as an excuse and backed out, but I didn’t. Instead, I put my arms around his neck, pulled his head down and I rose on my toes, and kissed him.
It took the boy about a second or two to get over his shock before he parted his lips and allowed my tongue to slip into his mouth. I had terrible coffee breath, but he didn’t seem to mind. Dwaine put his arms around my waist and pulled my body to his.
We stood in front of the copy machine in the office making out for a while and I broke the kiss and pushed him away when the boy’s hand slid around to my chest and tried to grab one of my breasts.
“Not here,” I reminded him. “We need to go somewhere else.”
I didn’t want a quickie with me bent over the copy machine. I was not opposed to rough, hard quickies. They could be a great deal of fun and satisfying. It just had been a long time since I had sex and I wanted a bed, I wanted to fuck more than once, I wanted to do more than just fuck, and I wanted to make it extremely enjoyable for the both of us. I knew I could do that. I was confident in my sexual abilities.
Also, even though it was late in the afternoon, there was a small chance someone could walk in on us. We were in the admissions office and who knew if someone needed to pick up something while they were out and about doing errands? All I needed was the dean of admissions walking in on us.
Where to go was the problem. We could go back to the condo I owned downtown. When I got divorced I purchased a nice, spacious three-bedroom condo that had once been a storage warehouse originally built in the 1920s. It was converted to condos when businesses and developers and the city decided to revitalize the downtown area; which they did to great success.
My divorce attorney tried to get me to force my husband to sell the house we lived in and split the selling price fifty-fifty. I was not going to do that at all. The house is a large historical home that is listed on the National Historical Registry. My ex-husband’s grandfather had purchased the home that had been vacant for many years and badly needed restoration.
It took years of hard work to restore the home as well as having to deal with what was allowed and not allowed during the restoration due to it being historical property. My ex’s grandfather, father, and even when my ex-husband was in his teen years, all worked hard to make the home what it once was.
The inside of the home had even been used in two TV series. The Originals on the CW network, the show about vampires, and a TV miniseries made for TV. It was a historical drama that takes place during the American Civil War and starred Christopher Reeves, The Rose and the Jackal.
I could write a long story about what I was told by my ex and his family about the restoration of that home, the unique inside of the home; it has a natural underground freshwater spring in the basement encased in a concrete poo. Honest to God! All the treasures they found, and yes there were treasures.
Real antique jewelry, at least six real old and perfect fur coats, a stained glass window that when was sent to have restored was discovered to be over a hundred years old and when appraised was worth almost fifty thousand dollars because of the person in Europe who hand made it and was a well-known artist for making stain glass. There were even secret passageways in the home that led from one room to another.
Got sidetracked again, sorry. While I don’t miss my ex-husband, I do miss that house! However, there was no way I was going to try and force my ex to have to sell that house. That home was his and his family’s and not mine regardless of what the law said since we were married. My attorney even tried to get me to go after alimony, but again I declined. I didn’t need the money.
Our divorce was so amicable I don’t even know why I hired an attorney. It was a waste of money. The only thing he did was have us sign the divorce agreement, had it notarized, and filed it.
“I got master keys for all the buildings including the dorms and apartments,” Dwaine suggested. Of course, he did; he needed them to do maintenance work and be able to get into the buildings when no one was there to let him in.
I shook my head and giggled, “I am not going into some poor girl’s dorm room or apartment and use her bed to have sex in.”
“I got keys to the cabin,” he suggested again.
I smiled and nodded. The cabin would be perfect. It was across campus, isolated, and on the lake. The cabin was used to rent out to parents who came to visit their daughters or to see them graduate or for Stunt weekend or alumni during homecoming. It was a nice, fully equipped, three-bedroom cabin.
“What if campus security dives by and sees my car?” I asked.
“We can take the truck. I have it parked outside and they will just think I am doing work there,” Dwaine told me. He meant one of the college’s maintenance trucks.
“Ok, pull it around front and I will get my purse and lock up the office,” I told him.
As I turned to go back into my office, Dwaine grabbed me around my waist and turned me around, and forcibly pulled me to him. His arms crushed my slender body gently and he started kissing me again. I didn’t resist and put my arms back around his neck and started kissing him back. Damn, he was only nineteen but the boy sure could kiss.
I liked his strong arms around me and how he took charge of me. I am not a submissive person and not into any of that BDSM, but as I mentioned I like masculine men and men who took charge.
I started whimpering and gasping when Dwaine started kissing my neck. It felt so good and I had not been kissed in a while. I finally found the willpower to gently push the boy back.
“Not here,” I reminded him.
Dwaine, with his arms still around my thin waist, looked down at me and grinned. “I want you to suck my dick right here,” he told me. His tone sounded more commanding.
Dwaine suddenly had a great deal of confidence. That was understandable because I did give it to him when I told him I wanted to have sex with him.
“No here,” I told him but did giggle at the naughty suggestion.
“Yes here,” he said. “Just for a moment. Not to make me cum. I want to feel your mouth on my cock.”
As I looked up at Dwaine, I lowered my right hand down to his crotch and felt his hard penis under his green work pants. I grinned.
“Ok, but not for long,” I told him.
Kink or fetish number one for me, and again to remind readers, these are most likely things most won’t consider a kink or fetish. I love giving blowjobs and I had a fetish for a man’s cum. Not just swallowing it, which I loved to do, but even feeling it and playing with it like a kid plays with silly putty. I just thought a man’s cum was so neat.
I gave in when I felt his penis. Again, it had been a while since I felt the hardness of a man or in this case a teenage boy. I got to my knees and with shaky hands I nervously tried to unbuckle his belt. I was not having much success.
His belt was one of those cargo-style belts with the buckle you had to slide the lock back and due to my shaking hands and being nervous, I was finding it difficult.
I was not nervous about giving the boy a blowjob. I had a good deal of confidence in my performing oral sex ability. I was still nervous that someone might walk in. I was starting to get frustrated and ended up tightening the latch instead of loosening it. Dwaine chuckled and unbuckled his belt for me as I blushed at my incompetence. I sat back on my heels to watch him remove his trousers.
After his belt was unbuckled, Dwaine unbuttoned his pants, pulled them down to his knees, and then pulled his underwear down to his knees. He was wearing back boxer shorts. Once his cock was free I reached out and took it in my hand and moved my head closer to the boy.
I normally liked to tease and kiss and lick a man’s penis before I put it in my mouth. I liked making love to a man’s cock when I gave a blowjob and taking my time. I disliked having a man force his penis down my throat and make me gag and choke. I didn’t take my time with Dwaine then, however, because I was still worried about us being caught.
When my face got closer to his pubic area, the faint scent of his masculinity filled my nostrils. I liked that. I liked that it was only a faint smell and not very pungent. While I enjoyed the smell of a man’s musky crotch scent, I didn’t like it when it was overpowering and smelly. I liked just the hint of the aroma.
I parted my lips and took the boy’s cock in my mouth. I started slow and took only a few inches into my mouth as I ran my tongue over the tip of his cock. Dwaine made a masculine moan and the sound was pleasing to me. I like a vocal lover and hearing his grunts and moans of pleasure. I then inhaled air through my nose and took more of the boy’s penis in my mouth and deep-throated him. When my nose was pressed against his pubic hairs, I held my head still and made swallowing movements. Dwaine again moaned out.
“Fuck, Mei, that feels great,” he told me.
I sucked and deep-throated the boy and let my saliva spill from my mouth onto his shaft. I liked giving messy or sloppy blowjobs. When his shaft was well lubricated from my spit I started stroking his cock as I sucked it.
Dwaine put a hand on the back of my head and when he pushed my head down I gagged. I reached up and removed his hand from my head and took my mouth off of his penis and looked up at him.
“I don’t like that,” I told him.
Dwaine nodded. “Ok, I’m sorry,” he said. I didn’t really believe him. “It’s ok,” I assured the boy. I was not mad; he didn’t know. “You can put your hand on my head, but just don’t force me to do it.”
I didn’t wait for the boy to respond and once again took his cock into my mouth. Dwaine did place his hand on the back of my head but didn’t push me into him. I may not have believed that he was sorry for doing it, but he respected what I told him at least.
I continued to give Dwaine a blowjob, quite enjoying myself, and deep-throated him again. I once more made the swallowing motion with my throat and again the boy groaned from pleasure.
“Fuck, Mei, that’s enough,” he told me with my face still pressed into his pubic hair. “You’re going to make me cum.”
I pulled away and his penis popped out of my mouth and looked up at Dwaine and smiled as I picked some of his pubic hairs from my mouth and wiped the saliva off my chin.
“I want you to,” I told him. “I want you to cum and to cum in my mouth.”
I didn’t wait for him to answer and once again took his cock in my mouth. I know we agreed I would just give him a blowjob for a few minutes and not until he orgasmed, but I was enjoying it too much to stop. It had been over six months since I had a penis in my mouth and for a man to cum in my mouth, and damn it, I wanted it and I wanted it badly.
I started bobbing my head back and forth faster and using my hand to slide over his spit-lubricated cock. As I sucked his cock harder and faster, I made twisting motions with my hand. My grip was not tight and I didn’t twist his penis, just glided my fingers over him.
Dwaine placed his hand on the back of my head again and started making louder grunting moans of pleasure and I knew he was close to orgasm. I pulled my mouth slightly back so I only had about two inches of his cock in my mouth and was sucking and licking the head. I started using my two small delicate hands to jerk his shaft furiously and let my saliva, now thicker and mucus-like, coat his cock.
“Ugh, fuck, fuck. Ugh God, girl, I’m going to cum,” Dwaine groaned out loudly. “Look at me as I cum in your mouth.”
Dwaine did give my hair a tug when he told me to look up at him. I didn’t mind. He did it in his excitement and his intention was not to hurt me, even though it did slightly. I also did not mind having my hair pulled during sex when a man was fucking me from behind, as long as it was not too hard and didn’t hurt. Just gentle like to make me lift or move my head. I was not into pain for sexual pleasure at all.
Yes, there had been times when rough sex had left my alabaster skin bruised in certain places, and of course, left my pussy sore the next morning, but I didn’t count that as being into pain. The bruises I never noticed during sex and only noticed when I looked at my body in the mirror. The pain of a sore pussy after a night of rough sex or a night of a great deal of lovemaking I felt I found rather enjoyable and made me feel well satisfied.
I was looking up ad Dwaine when the boy ejaculated into my mouth. His cum was thick and warm and there was quite a lot of it, but I managed to swallow it all. I liked swallowing cum. I liked the taste of it, the smell of it, the texture of it, and how it felt when it shot into my mouth and splashed down my throat and hit the roof of my mouth.
As the boy came he was making wonderful grunts of pleasure and I was making faint moaning sounds of satisfaction like I made when I tasted a very appetizing dish of food as his cum shot into my mouth. When his cock finally stopped ejaculating, I started sucking it again and milked his shaft to try and coax more of his sex fluid from it.
Derrick started chuckling and pulled my head away as the head of his penis became more sensitive. I sat back on my heels and smiled and wiped my chin and again picked some of his pubic hairs from my mouth.
“Don’t get greedy,” he teased me. “I got plenty left for you.”
I blushed and stood up. When I was back on my feet, Dwaine pulled me close to him again and I rose on my toes and we kissed once more. I like that he kissed me after I had given him a blowjob and let him ejaculate cum in my mouth. I thought it was silly when a man didn’t like kissing a girl even after she just had his penis in her mouth and took his fluid. I kissed men after that had used their mouths on my pussy and I particularly didn’t like the taste of pussy and found the idea of going down on another girl revolting. They could at least return the favor.
I dated one man like that before I was married. He wouldn’t even kiss me when I just sucked his cock for a while and he didn’t even cum in my mouth. It was not like I was going to spit a man’s cum into his mouth as we kissed. I was not into that at all and Dwaine was right, I was greedy when it came to man’s cum. Once a man came into my mouth his sex fluid was mine and I was not giving it up to anyone. That was my attempt at adult humor, I am not that extreme about it but you get the idea of how much I like a man’s cum.
As we kissed, I reached down and took his penis in my right hand again and was pleasantly surprised to find it still erect. I had not had sex with a teenage boy since I was a teenager and I had forgotten how horny they could be and their quick recovery time. With his penis being still hard, I thought the late afternoon and into the early evening with Dwaine was going to be a great deal of fun. Being at the cabin we would not have to be rushed and enjoy each other more than once.
I broke our kiss and let go of his penis and stepped back to allow the boy to pull up his underwear and trousers. I watched him and when he saw me looking he grinned.
“That was great,” he told me. “Fuck, Mei, you sure know how to suck a dick.”
I blushed again but also giggled. “Might be I can do it again later,” I teased. Oh, I was definitely going to do it again later.
“Yeah I would like that and also I can’t wait to eat that pussy of yours,” he told me.
I blushed but also giggled at the crude comment about what he said he wanted to do. I was hoping he would because I liked when a man went down on me. I just hoped he liked the look of it and didn’t make fun of it.
“Go get the truck, silly, and meet me out front,” I told him.
When Dwaine left the office I licked my hand that had been on his cock and tasted what little of his sex fluid there was on it. I then squirted some of the hand sanitizer that was on the reception desk on my hand and rubbed my hands together. It would not do well to get the boys fluid o the office door handles. I grabbed a piece of peppermint candy from the jar on the desk for my coffee breath.
I was a coffee addict and had been drinking coffee all day. The piece of candy reminded me I needed to go into the break room and turn off the coffee machine and rinse the pot.
I went back into my office, grabbed my purse and the office keys, and locked up as I left the building. Dwaine was already out front waiting for me in the truck. I quickly looked around to make sure no one could see me and walked quickly to the truck and got in.
Dwaine then drove us to the cabin with a huge grin on his face. The boy was rather pleased with the thought of fucking a pretty thirty-six-year-old Chinese woman. He looked like he had succeeded in winning an unattainable conquest. In a way he had, because ever since I was a teenager, many men have tried and failed to conquer my pussy. Ok, again my lame attempt at adult humor as I end this chapter.
