Please read introduction [here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ugbnzm/remembrance_of_encounters_past_amiable_amy_part_1/)
I kept this as close to what happened as possible and gave an honest account while it is still fresh in my memory. At least from my perspective. But I wanted to be respectful to her. I met her on Reddit. She is still active. We are still in touch and friendly. I shared the story with her and changed a few things to protect her identity and few other details she wanted removed and few events she remembered differently. So I deleted a few things upon her request but did not embellish what is still here.
This is the story of Desi. Well, that is not her real name. I am using it just to protect her identity. To be honest, I had little idea what that meant until she explained it to me. I would not have used it thinking it is something derogatory and as an older white man, I would be careful. But she told me it is just equivalent to “made in the USA” for India. It only refers to things, customs, and people of India and the subcontinent. No disrespectful connotation.
It was at the end of 2021 and Covid lockdown was still active and made social interaction rare for a while. I was mostly working from home and given my divorce a few years ago, I was home a lot by myself. So one of those days, when I had nothing better to do, I logged in to Reddit and made a post on Raceplay subreddit looking for local brown/asian service oriented submissive women.
It was more of an aspirational post. I did not expect anyone to respond. Or at least anyone real besides the usual spammers, request to join their OF account or send money, or some teen boy trying to catfish. So it was mostly a long shot and something to do.
As expected there was no real response and I forgot about it. Until a few days later when I logged back in I saw a chat message from her among some usual ones. The thing that stood out is that her id and message seemed real. She had the word “Desi” in her id and wanted to just chat. Still I was skeptical.
But I had too much free time and was in need of human interaction. So I wanted to try and see. So I responded and we started to chat. She felt real and easy to chat with. She talked about her life a bit: that she was divorced too and how covid has made it hard for have a normal social life. It did not take long to realize that maybe she did not understand my post. I asked her if she read it and knew what it was all about. She told me she was new to Reddit and still figuring things out but she did know the purpose of the subreddit and my post. But I was not so sure.
I was in two minds about ending the chat with some polite excuse. There were two reasons. One, she seemed still recovering from her divorce which seemed to have a real impact on her. And I did not want to get involved with anything too serious or too complicated. Also, I did not want to give her false hope or expectation. For me it was just for light fun.
Second, she seemed to have a very traditional life. She told me she came to the bay area after she got married and never worked before she got divorced. I gathered that despite the fact that she lived in the bay area for over a decade, she mostly spent in the isolation of a tight Indian community and was not exposed much outside it.
Being in the bay area, I am somewhat familiar with Indian culture and had experience with Indian women and girls but they were born here or even those that were from India were a lot more Americanized. But Desi was very different. So I felt there was too big a gap and expectations to have a casual fun interaction I was looking for. On occasions I had to tell her about what some of the words mean such as FWB or fuckbuddy. Sometimes I would realize she may not know some of the idiomatic use of phrases and take them literally. And the first time we talked over the phone, I realized she has a strong accent.
For those reasons, I felt it would be a waste of our time – both her and mine. So we chatted, first only on Reddit and then on text, as an online friend without expectations so that it would be easy to move on when we decide to. Maybe because of that, it was easy to have a normal conversation. She needed someone to talk to and was happy to open up and talk about her life and I was happy to hear and get a glimpse of a life I would not have had a chance to in real life. Sometimes it is easier to open up and be honest to strangers than people we are close to. Maybe due to the lack of fear or judgment or consequences.
We would text each other with normal day to day things. About the news, weather, and what we eat. She told me a lot about her cooking. But mostly about her life. I shared a bit about my life and work.
She told me about how she grew up in a small town in India and never thought of coming to America. How she never thought of divorce. How hard everyone, especially her own family, had been about her divorce and blamed her for it. How she was in a bad place after divorce and since then tried to live her life. She has tried to be more open and has met a few white men but all before Covid.
I asked her about her view on white men she met. She was a bit uncomfortable. She never thought about it or felt white men would be interested. I felt she was a bit conscious about her look: she is short and on the curvy side. Her particular worry was about the “darker” skin tone. She told me it is common in India for people to prefer “fair” skin women. For me the contrast was the exciting part and the fact I was not thinking of meeting her for sex, it really did not matter.
At first she was pleasantly surprised when she got interest from white men. But it did not last long before she realized it was just, as she put it, “for fun”. I guess despite what she told me, it was hard for her to accept it, let alone get used to it. But she insisted that she was comfortable with the idea but since it is still frowned upon in her community, she wanted to keep it from her friends and family.
I was not sure if she was trying to convince me or herself. Or the freedom of online/text interaction made her feel more confident. I neither prevented her from sharing her stories with white men nor did pry knowing it was not something she shared with many.
In exchange, I told her about my interest and experience with ethnic women. I spared her the explicit details and my inclination just to be sensitive given her lack of exposure. Even the little I shared, I felt she was not really aware of some of it given that I had to sometimes explain what I meant. I told you what led me to the post on the Raceplay subreddit.
I guess it is easier to share with someone that you feel is just a friend. This was new to me. Over the years, I was friends with more than a few ethnic women that I was interested in. But never had the opportunity to be friends with someone that I was not really interested in that way. Thinking back it made it easier and lasted longer than usual Reddit connection. I think the same was true for her.
It was a couple of months later. Our chat and text got regular by that time. We decided to talk on the phone. I offer to talk instead of text before. But she told me she did not have privacy to talk about since she was living with other people. That may have been part of the reason, but I think the main reason was that she did not want to talk or worried about she accent.
She has a strong accent. And though I found it strangely exciting, at the start it was not easy for me to understand every word she said. On top of her accent, she spoke fast and I sensed some nervousness. I would politely ask her to repeat. Over time we both got used to it. She spoke with ease and I got used to listening to her. And more comfortable and more friendly.
I was curious to meet her. Early this 2022, when restaurants and other things started to open up, I asked a few times if she wanted to meet. Just for a drink. She did not drink. I explained, coffee or Indian tea. She was not comfortable. She was scared that someone she knows may see her. I said what about a park? She felt it was too public. I said, cannot she just meet a friend? She said sure, but no one will believe her. She was scared about exposure. But she told me and I believed that she wanted to meet. So I would throw out some ideas and see.
Finally, she felt comfortable with the idea of meeting in a mall. After all, there is nothing suspicious for her to go to the mall. And if anyone sees her, I told her, she can tell she just met me and I was telling her about some charity organization that I was raising money for. So it was just a random thing.
We decided to meet a bit far from where she lived in Oakridge mall in San Jose. I had seen her pics. But seeing her in real life, I realized she was more traditional than I imagined. She came in a very traditional Indian dress (I now know, it is called “sari”). She was more curvy than her pictures and more nervous than on the phone.
Usual comfort of our conversation was hard to duplicate. I suggested that maybe if we walk or shop, it would be easier for her to get comfortable. She said she has not shopped for a while and needed a few things for the house and kitchen. She tried Macy’s but felt it was a bit too expensive and then bought a few things from Target. I asked her if it was okay to eat something.
She said maybe something quick. I asked her to choose the place since she is vegetarian. She was okay with Panda Express or Thai Kitchen. I would not have picked either but given that she wanted, we decided to try the Thai Kitchen.
Once we sat down to eat, she felt a bit more at ease. And I felt my curiosity to meet her face to face was coming to an end. Something about meeting her made me feel she lived a very different life and there would be no change for her to be comfortable with what I am into. I wanted to make it a friendly ending. As a result, I was more generous than I planned. So I decided to buy her a gift.
I told her I needed to buy a gift for a girl I met and I wanted to impress and asked her for advice. She suggested a few things – from jewelry to perfume, and we settled on a handbag. She picked a few – modestly priced. I told her I really want to impress and she can pick one that she really likes. She did pick one – in her words “if I win the lottery, I would get this one.” It was not too expensive.
I asked her to carry it for me until we get to the parking lot since I do not want to carry a ladies handbag with me. It was in a bag. So no one would see it. But she did not mind and happily carried it. I told her I had to get back and we walked to the parking lot. By the time she realized, I forgot the handbag, I was diviring home. I made sure of that.
She called me immediately.
“You forgot the bag. Can you come back? I am still in the parking lot,” she sounded earnest.
“That is all right. Take it with you.”
“When would I give it to you then?”
“No need. You please keep it.”
“Why?”
“Think of it as a gift from a friend.”
“No, No. I cannot take it. Please come and get it.”
I told her not to worry. We can talk later and if she did not want to, we can decide.
By the time I reached home, I was sure our time had come to an end. At least from my side.
Though I did not expect much, there was always a hope. But after meeting her, I was sure there is no way she will ever be comfortable with what I need. And her stories about white men did not help.
She told how she felt white men were after one thing. And even when she is willing to do it, they are not always nice and never last more than a few sessions. The only thing keeps her interested is that it is outside her social circle and very little change of overlap. And in a way their lack of long term interest makes them non clingy and safer.
I kept missing her calls and responded to her texts occasionally. The usual busy with work excuse.
[The next paragraph is how I felt. She feels it is more of my imagination and a bit of projection. But agreed to keep it since it is my feeling not facts.]
I felt that our face to face meeting had the opposite effect on us. For her, she felt more comfortable. She made comments like she expected me to be older looking. And admitted that most of her past experiences were less ideal in all senses: the men, the place, and the way they approached it. That fact that I did not push her to have sex made her trust me. Also, I feel the handbag had a more positive impact on her than I imagined. She told me that it has been a while that someone was nice and friendly to her without expecting anything in return. She felt we can surely be good friends. And all my gestures from lunch to the gift, she felt I was surely interested in her. So she came out of it thinking she was surely interested and wanted to continue our interaction and hoped for more. And I, on the other hand, lost the intrigue and came out of it very sure that there is no change of anything between us.
It took her a while but she finally sensed it. She started to find reasons for my loss of interest. And when I did not give her one, she started to invent them.
“Was it because I did not take your gift?”
“Was it the new girl you met?”
“Did I look ugly in person?”
I told her not to worry. After all, we were just online friends. She was also not interested in me besides our chat.
That worked.
“Can we still text and talk sometimes?” she asked.
“Sure. Whenever we both are free, we can catch up.”
Her text and calls slowed down.
Few weeks went by. It was the MLK long weekend and we talked after a while. She wanted to really know what happened. What made things change.
I reminded her how we got to know each other. The post on Raceplay. I was looking for something very different than what she was comfortable or ready for. I like her but do not want to give false expectations or take advantage of her friendship.
“I know that. I am not that stupid,” she shared her side. “I told you, I have met a few white men. That is why I like you. You are honest and nice. Most men want one thing and they do not care about the person.”
I laughed.
“Thank you. But I am a man after all and maybe I want even worse things. I did not tell you what I wanted from those girls I met before. I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“I am not that innocent. Of course, I know it was not just simple friendship. I have done things for white men before.”
“Well, what you told me, it was a very normal dating thing. I am -”
“I did not tell you everything.” she jumped in.
“Ah, really?” I tried to make light of it.
“Sure. You did not share everything either.”
“You got a point.” I admitted. “But I did it not to be offensive. I have nothing to hide.” “I did not try to hide either.”
I felt she was drawing false equivalency and if I can just share a bit she will get it and understand.
“I will tell you anything you wish to know,” I offered. “All you have to do is ask.”
“I do not know what to ask?”
‘Well you can ask anything about the girls. What are the things they did?”
“Ah, I am not sure,” she paused, “I do not want to be rude.”
Nothing rude about it. I offered. I do not want to say something explicit that might shock you.”
Truth to be told, I wanted to shock her. Suddenly, I was strangely excited by the thought of hearing her reaction to very explicit and non-PC ideas I enjoy.
“Okay,” she finally asked. “What are the things you enjoy the most?”
“Things as in sex act or anything?”
“Anything.”
“And are you asking what I like in general or what I liked with those ethnic girls?”
“Yes, what you like with them.”
“Well, there are a lot I like and it depends on the girl. But I can start small and share one idea and one act. Is that ok?”
“Sure. Whatever you feel is right.”
“Do you remember what I said in the post? The kind of girl I was looking for.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“You have to say it for me to know.”
“Ok,” she took a pause. I was full of anticipation. I felt the tension on her voice. The moment she had to make a decision.
“Something like brown or asian, right?”
“Right. But I was asking for the type of girl. Not just their skin color but personality.”
“Oh sorry.”
“That is all right. So do you remember?”
“Yes, you said you were looking for submissive girls.”
“Do you know what that means?”
“I think it means girls who listen to men and are not bossy.”
“Sort of. But I meant sexually submissive.”
“Yes, I meant that way.”
“So tell me what that means for you.”
“I am not sure how to say it.”
“Why don’t you give me an example? That may be easier,” I wanted her to come up with a thought.
“Okay,” she paused.
I could sense she was trying. I gave her time. No need to rush. I was enjoying it. “Like when the girl would do what he wants.”
“Ture, but I was looking for some examples. You can pick anything that comes to your mind.”
“Hmm, example,” there was some more pause. “Like what?”
“Okay, I can give you an example,” I wanted to hear her reaction.
“Yes, sure,” she sounded more eager than I expected.
“You surely know how to give oral, right?”
“Of course, I was married, remember?”
“Just making sure. So tell me how would a submissive girl give oral?”
“She will ask him what he wants, right?”
“Yes, but I want you to imagine what she will do.”
“She will take it when he asks…” she said without much conviction.
“Yes. Let me try this way. Can you think of a position that she would pick?”
“Oh you mean on her knees?” she quickly responded.
“Yes, you got the idea.”
“See I told you I am not that stupid,” she sounded both realived and happy like a kid who just solved a puzzle.
“Yes, you know what I meant. But that is just the start. I like women who enjoy serving.”
“Yes, I know what you mean.”
I was not sure she knew. But I did not press. Instead I asked, “do you enjoy it?”
“Enjoy what? The knee thing or the other thing?”
“Either,” I could not wait to hear her response. I was surprised that she was still continuing with it, let alone giving any answer.
“Yes,” she said very softly.
I knew it was hard for her to admit. But I was getting hard and did not have time to be diplomatic.
“Which one?”
“The knee thing…”
“What about the other one?” I was pushing her a bit.
“Not sure what you are asking.”
“Do you enjoy serving men sensually?”
“I am not sure.”
“How about this?” I wanted her to say it. “Have any of the white men asked you to get on your knees?”
“Yes.”
I was getting more excited by the minute and impatient. But I knew to go slow and not scare her. “Did you get on your knees and suck his cock?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Good girl. So the question is ‘did you enjoy serving their cock’?”
“Hmm,” she was really thinking, “Sometimes it was nice. But -”
“I did not ask you if it was nice. Did you enjoy it?”
“Sorry. Yes, sometimes I did like it.”
“There you go. You liked serving their cock. That is what I mean by women who like to serve.”
“Yes. So you like them to get on their knees and do it for you?”
“Yes, but what gets me excited is a bit more than that,” I had a sense that she wanted to know. But I wanted her to ask for it.
“Bit more? Like what?”
“I will tell but first, ‘are you comfortable’?” I wanted her to say it. “I do not want to upset you.”
“Yes, I am fine. Do not worry,” she assured me.
“Good. So I want to ask you something and you have to be honest. Okay?”
“Anything?”
“You sure? Will you be honest and answer me?”
“Yes, I would,” she sounded sure. “As I said I have nothing to hide.”
“Are you getting wet?”
“You mean…,”
“Yes, you know what I mean. Do not play games. Be honest as you promised. Is your cunt getting wet.” I wanted to see her reaction to the word.
“Y.e…s. A bit.” she responded hesitantly. But she did admit.
“Nothing to be ashamed of. I want you to enjoy it. It only makes me comfortable to share. You can always share how you feel with me.”
“Thank you. That is why I like you. You are nice.”
“It is easy to be nice to you. So before I share, can I ask you a few questions so that I can understand better what you have done before?”
“Sure, ask anything, really.”
I was both excited and surprised by her responses and the conversation so far. I expected the talk to end long ago with her saying bye and hanging up.
“Thanks. But be honest and as detailed as possible. Ok?”
“I will try.”
“Good girl.” I assured her. “So tell me what was the worst thing a white man asked you to do that you did not want to and you did it anyway.”
“Like something sex related?”
“Yes, something you did not like but let him do anyway.”
“Hmm, if I have to pick I would say cum on me.”
“Like where? What was the worst place for you?”
“Hmm, the worst place….my face.”
“That is very expected,” I sounded very unsurprised. “So how do you feel about it now?”
“I am used to it now.”
“So you have done it many times now?”
“I have done it a few times, yes,” she said with a hint of laugh.
“I ask because I just expect girls to take my cum where I want. That is sort of very normal for me.”
“Really? So what else do you need?”
“I will tell you. But let me first finish the questions I have for you.”
“Sure. Sorry. Did not mean to interrupt.”
“No need to be sorry. I am enjoying this. Are you?”
“Yes, I know it takes me time to get warmed up.”
“Yes, a few months,” I laughed. “You are kidding right?” she was also relieved. “I know I may come across as hard to get. But that is not my thing. I was just not sure.”
“That is all right. We got there finally. That is what counts.” “Thanks.”
“So just be open and honest from now on. I like you but also want to make sure we are a good match. Make sense?”
“Yes, I understand. I will answer your questions.”
“Good. I will also be direct. We can talk like two adults. I am not trying to offend you with anything.”
“Of course. I trust you and I will not hide anything from you.”
“I really appreciate it. So I will ask personal questions just to see if you are a good fit.” “Yes. Please ask.”
“Great. So have any of the white men called you names? And if so, what sort of names? And how do you feel about that?”
“Like my name…”
“You know what I mean. I thought you wanted to be honest?” I sounded irritated.
“Sorry. Sorry.” She quickly apologized. “Yes, some of them liked talking dirty.”
“Some or all?”
“All.”
“Good. Now tell me what are the names they called you?”
“The usual -”
“Just tell me,” I interrupted.
“Like slut, bitch,…, whore.”
“That was not hard to say, was it?” I wanted her to know not to waste my time. “And how do you feel?”
“I am okay as long as it is for fun and they do not mean it.”
“I cannot speak for others. There are men who are not nice or really enjoy hurting women. For me it has always been for excitement and enjoyment. Also, for me both sides have to enjoy it. That is why I seek girls who enjoy serving. Does that help?” I tried to give her comfort and not make her feel bad about it. Women like her need some support to realize what they enjoy. Not shamed for their desire.
“Yes, it does. I am sharing since I feel you are nice and understanding. I like to make people happy but for the right man.”
“Of course. That is why I am asking you all these questions and want to know if this sort of thing makes you wet.” I did not want to lose the momentum.
“Yes, I can see that.”
“So just to be clear, I do enjoy name calling but what really gets me hard is the power dynamics and the contrast of skin tones. Do you get what I mean?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Tell me what you think it means.”
“Like you said, you like darker skin girls, right?”
“True but what do you think of power dynamics?”
“Hmm, not really sure.”
“That is all right. You could have just asked.”
“Sorry, yes I wanted to ask.”
“To put it simply, it is related to the girls who like to serve. So I like when they do what I ask or order them to do. They like taking orders and obeying my wishes. I like having power over them to make them do what I need. Does that help?”
“I think I get it.”
“If you want, I can give you some examples.”
“Okay, sure.”
“For example, if I ask them to dress a certain way or show me their body when and where I want them to or say things the way I want.”
“So they have to obey and do as you ask. I get it.”
“I think you do,” I felt it was time to go all in. “So now let me tell you what I have in mind. I like you and I think if you want I can share what would work for me and what I need from you. Do you want me to tell you?”
“Yes, you can share.”
“I am not just sharing. I am also asking if you think you want to and more importantly can do it. I do not want to waste your or our time if this is not something you are not eager to try and excited to do. I will be nice but I want you to be nice and honest too. I know it is important to you. So I will make sure it is always safe and discreet for you. No one will ever know and I will never put your or your reputation at risk. You have to trust me as I do.”
“Yes, I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Not at all. Neither physically or emotionally. You can always say no, but I want you to try and see. I am direct and honest with you so that you know what I expect and what you need to do if you want us to continue.”
“Yes, I know.”
“So once I share it, you can tell me yes or no. If you say no, there are no hard feelings. We go our separate ways. At least you know what I want and you are not ready. So we will move on. Okay?”
“Okay. But can we still be friends?”
“I want to be honest. I am not really looking for just friends. We talked for a while and met in person. I think it is time to decide. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sorry. So what do you want?”
I knew it was time to pull the trigger.
“As you know I got divorced like you. So I am not looking for anything serious right now. Just someone who is looking for the same.”
“Yes, I know not anything long term or serious.”
“Yes. Also I am not looking for normal dating sort of stuff.”
“Yes.”
“I’m just looking for someone to serve my sexsual needs. Someone who would be happy to obey me and be my bitch when I need her. Is that clear enough for you?”
“Yes.”
“So are you interested? Or is this too much for you and you want to move on?”
She took a long pause.
“Well,” I finally said, “it is ok. If this is not what you can do, we can wish each other the best and say goodbye.”
“I did not say that.”
“But you did not say yes either.”
“I know.”
I felt she was having a hard time deciding.
“Is there anything else I can say or clarify to help you? I already said, I will make sure it is safe and private. What else is bothering you?”
“Nothing specific. But I live with others. So I cannot host.”
I was a bit surprised that she brought up logistics and used the word “host”. Someone must have asked her before. She was not as innocent and inexperienced as I imagined.
“Do not worry about any such things. I am a gentleman. I will take care of all that.”
“You mean motels?”
“No. I do not think that would be easy for you. Too public. I trust you. So you can come to my house. The house is big enough to have enough privacy and it is in the foothills near 280.”
“Yes, I know that place. I went there a few times for hikes. Very nice place.”
“Yes, so you know you do not have to worry about hosting. And there will be any risk of anyone seeing you.”
“Make sense. It seems you have thought through all these.’
“Of course. I told you I have a penalty of experiences with girls like you. And I always wanted to make sure they are comfortable and safe.”
“Yes you did.”
“And everyone had fun and no one ever regretted their experience. So I can promise you the same.
“Ok. But you have not told me what you need from me.”
“So are you okay with the overall idea?”
“Yes, I am fine with it.”
“You have to say it like you mean it,” I laughed.
“Say what?”
“Say that you are ready to be my bitch on call,” and I waited for her to say it.
“Yes.”
“No. Not yes. Say the words like you mean it and are eager to do it.”
“Okay I will say it,” even over the phone I distinctly felt she took a deep breath.
“I am ready…”
“Say it. Do not hesitate. Say it like you mean it. Prove it to me that you mean it.”
“I am ready to be your bitch on call.”
My hard cock twitched. Mmmm yes.
“Say it again.”
“I did.”
“Are you going to be a good bitch and do what I ask?”
“Yes.”
“Then do it!”
“I am ready to be your bitch on call.”
“That is more like it. I knew you could do it. How does it make you feel? Did it make it wetter?”
“Yes a bit.”
“Nice. So that you know, when you said it, it made my cock hard. You have such an effect on me. Does that make you happy?”
“Yes, thank you for sharing. I was not sure if it was just me.”
“No way. As I said, it is all about the match. And I am trying to see if we are a good match. So far, I am really happy with you.”
“Good. I like that you are interested.”
“And excited.”
“Yes that too.”
“So remember I said I like power dynamics and contrast in skin tone?”
“Yes, I know what you mean now.”
“Great. Let me try something and see how you react. And this is very important to me. So how you respond is key. Understood?”
“Yes, I will do what you ask.”
“Then say the same thing but address me as Sir or Master.”
“Which one would you like?”
Given her question, I knew she was ready. So I eased the pressure a bit.
“Surprise me. Try to get my cock react.”
“Okay”
“Say it.”
“Sir, I am ready to be your bitch.”
I could sense a jolt run down my body and rub down my cock making it jerk.
“Are you sure you will do what it takes to me my good little brown bitch?”
“Yes-”
“Be a good bitch and say ‘Yes Sir’!”
“Sorry. Sorry. Yes, sir.”
“That is how a good bitch responds. Got it.”
“Yes sir.”
“How does it feel to be called my brown bitch?”
“It makes me wet.”
“Now you are getting it.” I laughed. “So are you wet or just playing the part?”
“I am. I am not lying to you.”
“Well, be a good brown bitch and show it to me.”
“You mean…” “You know what I mean.”
“But I am home and someone -”
“You told me people have gone home for the long weekend. And that is why you can talk on the phone today. And I thought you wanted to prove that you are ready to do what I order. I am serious and not playing games.”
“I am not playing games. Do you want me to send a pic?”
“No. Just use facetime. I want to see it as we talk.”
“On video?”
“Yes. it is easier and there will be no picture. So less risk. And I will also be on cam.”
“Okay. Let me close the door.”
“Sure. do what you need to do to make sure this is safe. As I said I will never ask you to do anything that is not safe.”
“Okay. Hold on.”
“Wait, first call me on facetime and let me watch.”
“Okay”
She called on facetime.
“Is this what you wanted?”
She was wearing a floral print house robe. I guess she got it from Ross, since she told me that is one place she shops for dresses.
“Yes, what are you wearing under that robe?”
“Wait, let me close the door,” she walked close to the door.
I waited and watched her body.
She was curvy but the robe made her look even more chubby. Her tummy, tits, and ass swang free under it as she walked back and forth to close the door and windows. I felt she had no bra on.
“So do you feel comfortable now?” I asked once she got back and sat on the bed back.
“Yes. It is better to be safe.”
“Yes, so now tell me.”
“Oh, I have panties on.”
“Ok. Can you put the phone on a stand? It is shaking too much.”
“I have one. Let me get it.”
She put the phone on bed and I watched the ceiling as she went and came back. I saw her put the stand and the phone on the night table.
“Is this better?”
“Yes, be a good bitch and stand up.”
She stood up in front of the phone.
“Like this?”
“What did you tell you about what to say?”
“Oh sorry. Like this sir?”
“Good girl. Now stand there and take off your panties.”
She reached for her robe.
I stopped her.
“No. Keep the robe. Just take off the panties.”
“Oh sorry, sir.” she let go of her robe and pushed her panties down to the floor and wanted to reach for it.
“Let it be there. Just go and sit on the bed.”
“Yes, sir.”
She sat on the bed.
“Can you still see me?”
“No, turn the phone towards you.”
It took a bit of back and forth to adjust the angle. She was more focused on me seeing her face. I had to tell her where the focus should be. Once it was at the right angle, I told her to relax.
“Are you wet now, bitch?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Show me. Open your legs wide.”
She did.
“Now pull your robe slowly towards your hips.”
“But I am not shaved.”
I could sense her real hesitation. This is time to motivate her.
I titled my phone towards my building crotch.
“Do you want me to show first?”
“Yes,” she was visibly excited.
I unzipped and pulled out my already hard cock.
“See I do not play games. I do what I promise. Does that help?”
It surely did. She pulled her robe over her thicker than expected things and exposed her hips and cunt. Well, when I say cunt I mean that I could only see the mound of pubic hair that covered it.
She sensed something was not going well.
“That’s what you asked me to do, right?”
“Yes, but I cannot see if you are wet or not.”
She folded her legs and spread her legs wider.
“Do it the right way. Use your finger and show me your hole.” She reached down and with her right hand index and middle finger spread open her lips. But the hair was too thick to see anything.
“Use both hands and pull it wide open for me to see.”
She did.
“Wider. Pull harder.”
She did. I could see the pink inside a bit. Despite her flabby thighs and loose lips, she has a tighter hole than I was expecting. Has not been used much I hoped.
“Put a finger inside and show me you are wet.”
She did not say anything but did what I asked.
“That is an obedient bitch. Well done. I believe you. Now you see how hard you got my cock. I want to do something to make me cum. Can you do that?”
“Yes, what do you need?”
“Get your dildo?”
“What?”
I realized my mistake.
“Do you know what a dildo is?”
“Not sure what you mean?”
“What do you use to masterbate?”
“Oh, I use my fingers.”
“I see.” I started to think.
“Do you want me to use my fingers?”
“No, that would work for me. You see my cock. I want you to use something like it so that I can feel I am fucking you. Do you have anything with a soft handle?”
“Like what?”
“Like a hair brush or broom?”
“I have but those seem scary.”
“Okay, I do not want to scare you.” I kept on thinking and suggesting. Finally, we got there. She had some cucumbers!
“Get the largest one you can get.”
She came back with a reasonably sized English cucumber.
“Do you have any bigger ones?”
“No, this is the biggest one.”
“Okay take the robe off and sit down and spread your legs wide facing the phone.”
I waited for her to get in position.
“Now look at me cock and keep pusing it until I tell you.”
She put the end on between her spread lips.
“Oh it feels cold.”
“That is all right. It will help you take it deeper. Just focus on my cock and push it and imagine my hard white cock going in your hole.”
She pushed it and after a few inches I could see she started to struggle. Her face started to show the struggle.
As I saw her discomfort I started to stroke my cock.
“Oh yes, that’s it bitch. Push it harder. Show me you can take my cock.”
“Okay s..i…r”, her voice started to break from the pain.
“Lie down, it will go deeper.”
She did and it went a bit further. Her lips were wrapper tight around the dark green skin of the cucumber.
“Does it hurt bitch?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then say it!”
“Say what sir?”
“Say ‘Please rip my cunt open Sir. Make me your fuckdoll.”
“Yes sir, please rip my cunt Sir. Make me your fuckdoll,” she repeated like a good obedient slut.
“Yes, keep ramming it and keep saying it.” I could see she was too close to care. She kept saying it like a mantra and it did not take long before she came. She came hard.
[The details of how it happened was deleted at her request. She was not comfortable sharing how she did what she did. Even now she feels shy about that day.]
“I guess it has been a while since you had an orgasm,” I said as she got composure. “Is that so obvious?”
“Sort of. But did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“No need to thank me. So what got you over the line?”
“Well, all of it I guess.” She was shy and reserved again. And started to pull down the robe over her body.
“Wait. That is not fair. You came but I am not done yet.”
“Oh, I am so sorry. What do you want me to do?”
“I am so hard. But I do not think I can come just from watching.”
“I want you to cum and I will do anything you need,” she was sincere.
“Ok. Can you come down here right now?”
“I meant anything on cam,” she clarified.
“I know what you meant. But I need something real to cum. But if you are not ready I get it.”
“I want to but today is too late already.”
“Okay. How about tomorrow during the day?”
“I will try and see.”
“No, you have to say yes or no. Remember I made you cum and you own me one.”
“Okay, what time?”
“I am free anytime before 1pm. So what works best for you.”
“I can come around 10am.”
“Sure and you can stay as long as you wish.”
“How long do you want me to stay?”
“You can stay at least until after lunch. I will order us some Thai vegetarian lunch.”
“You remember.”
“Yes I do. But you also remember what you need to do tomorrow.”
She smiled. “Remind me again.”
“The knee thing but I want something more intense, not just blowjob to start with.”
“Like what?”
“You know what a deep throat is?”
“Yes, when I take it down my throat.”
“So you know it. Can you do it?”
“Yes, I gag a bit but I can try.”
“Good. But you do not have to do anything. I will do it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I like to facefuck you. I am sure you know what that is. Be honest.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Good. So I will look forward to seeing how good you are at it.”
“So that is what I need to do?”
“Well to start. The rest will depend on how well you do it,” I smiled. “Let the rest be a surprise.”
“Look forward to it,” she said without realizing what was in store for her.
We said good night after a bit. I went to bed thinking of what happened. What she did. What she was ready for. But most of all, as i stroked my cock thinking it has been a while I fucked someone like a proper fucktoy the words of MLK came over me: “I have a dream.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vb3po0/remembrance_of_encounters_past_delightful