Some things happen to us that we will never forget. How can a woman dismiss the best sex she ever had? She can’t.
The story:
I have been languishing in a non-sexual relationship for some years, a ‘dead bedroom’, as it is commonly termed here. My partner had awkwardly suggested that I seek someone out for my needs periodically but…like most statements made out of anxiety, he didn’t mean it. I couldn’t add to his discomfort.
Yet mine was growing. How long does healthy woman suppress her need to be lovingly touched before she feels it will never happen?
Taking a deep breath, I posted an online profile, half hoping for attention, half afraid I would get it. A number of guys came my way but none were a good fit. Everyone who has looked online for attention understands that–so many faces but none that you want to kiss.
Then finally, the right set of lips to kiss came to me. A simple innocuous message, the tone was slightly halting. I could imagine him hesitantly writing then erasing then recomposing, before he hit ‘send’. I admit, I was intrigued, as his message was different than the others I’d received, quite respectful. And the kicker? He was Asian. Surprise, surprise.
He said his name was Alan and he was married but in need of more than he was getting at home. I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth but I was interested in him, so the details were immaterial. He was smart, educated, witty, funny. How could I resist?
Our replies started from the standard getting to know you to long and funny jokes and recollections of the day. We moved from email to a messaging app on our phones and then of course, I had to provide him a few naughty pics to go with my teasing words. He responded by getting up in the middle of the night to write erotic stories of what he wanted to do to me along with pictorial proof of his desire.
We were anxious to meet, as our online convos flowed so neatly and the sexual innuendos had us both hot and bothered. His schedule was intricately wrapped around him, almost as bad as the Gordian knot of mine. I prayed that Chronos would turn his wizened head and let us find some moments to steal away for each other. And suddenly, close to midnight a few weeks into our flirting, he wanted to know if I could meet. Of course. I wasn’t going to pass up finally meeting him. I lied, made excuses and cancelled everything for that day.
On the day of the meet, I sent him a text at dawn, to ask what color lingerie he would like to see me wear. He said something pastel, to contrast again my soft brown skin. I, of course, wore a panty/bra set in bright red, just to be contrary. (You know women, often doing what were aren’t asked to do.)
He asked me to casually meet him in the lobby but follow him up to the room without speaking, keeping up the strangers pretense. I did follow one request: I dressed in business attire-a dark blouse, knee-length pencil skirt and heels. My hair was down around my shoulders but otherwise, I looked like any other person in a hotel, taking care of business.
‘Hi’ was all he said, in a low voice. Inclining his head, he walked to he bank of shiny elevators. I noticed people in my peripheral vision but no one noticed me, or rather noticed *us*. I got my first good look at him in the elevator. A thick shock of dark hair, glasses, a sweet shy smile. A beautifully cut dark blue suit. Expensive shoes gleaming in his feet. His eyes were serious, however.
Once we were in the room, he smile fell from his lips and he pressed himself against me, kissing my neck and whispering sweet nothing. I felt his erection practically jumping out his pants.
“Take you clothes off’, he said, as he stepped back from me, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie.
I froze. It was what I wanted and it was happening right then. But it had been so long since I had been with a man and he was literally a stranger.
I looked around,the room was nice, a step up from bland corporate mocha and sand tones. He had water and wine set up. Music was softly playing in the background, a female singer warbling away about how she needed to be loved.
And I was petrified. All the big trash talk, all the bravada, all the taunting and teasing…zilch was coming out my mouth. Couldn’t make a peep come out of it.
He smiled and embraced me, “Ah. I see that cat has got your tongue. Where is the brave woman who was going to bring me to my knees and wear me out?” He flashed that sweet grin, before he smothered my reply with kisses and his probing tongue. While he was exploring my mouth, he was pulling my clothing off.
I kicked off my heels once he had my down to my undies. And he laughingly said, “I see pastels can also be primary colors, hmm?” That broke my ice and I had a giggling fit.
That was the last of my giggles. He unbuckled his pants, slid them off, shucked off his underwear and then he fell upon me. In a flash, my bra was unhooked and discarded, my panties were removed and tossed away. He ran his hands up and own my body, an appreciative low growl in his throat. All I could do was moan, cry, gasp and plead.
No exaggeration. He was forceful but not in a scary way. He bent me over when he wanted me bent over, he put me on my back and threw my legs up when he wanted them up. I was putty in his hands.
I cannot adequately explain the deluge of emotion that overwhelm me, as he kissed me, fingered me, told me to spread my legs wider.
I was a dry land blooming with flowers under his steady nourishing rain.
The part that stayed with me the longest, that shocked me? How he purposefully and single-mindedly drilled into me.
I thought I had been fucked before. I thought I had been pounded previously. No not at all; those were pale imitations of a misty dream. I finally understood exactly how those chicks in the the porn movies felt because he was like a jackhammer. A thoughtful one, as he did not hurt me. But he was ruthless about getting every inch of his cock into me and there was no getting away from it.
Every so often he covered my mouth, as I lost all ability to be ladylike–I was babbling at just how wonderful it felt.
I asked for a break. I got a brief one, but that was because he wanted to move me from the bed to the sofa, so he could have better traction.
When I could focus, I saw a soft smile playing on his lips, as he made these grunts in time to his steady flawless rhythm.
(I did wonder if he was a machine, as I didn’t think a regular human could keep on just pumping like that with no visible signs of fatigue and hardly no sweat. He wasn’t a gym bunny but his stamina? Other fucking worldly. I didn’t think a 41 year old man would be so ferocious.)
He saw I was at my limit, as even with my natural juices and liberal dollops of added lubricant, it was too much for me to keep going. He then played my swollen clit like it was a violin string until I lost control, cried his name and came. “Yes yes, cum for me,” I did hear but I can’t tell the rest, as I was lost in a cloud of sensation, not just because it had been so long since I had been fucked but because he did everything so damn well.
As I came down from my orgasmic loud and got my bearings, he gathered me up and helped me stumble to the bed. Yes, he laughed at me, all shaky and worn, hair a wildish mess, eyeliner smeared.
He pulled me close to him, on the luxurious bed. He was lying there looking at me, thinking. I knew he was trying to figure out what he should do next.
I decided to take the bull by the horns and give him blow job, as I could feel my tender pussy tissues swelling and I knew I would not be about to go for another round. I admit it–he got the best of me. But i wasn’t totally down for the count.
After a long drink of water, I pushed him back on the pillows, and proceeded to use some of my skills to disarm him. When I saw I had his erection at full throb, with precum glazing the tip of his cock, I wrapped my lips around his cock head and began licking. I worked my mouth down the shaft and began sucking, long slow strokes. My left hand gently cupped his bulging sac and that was when I heard him moan. I glanced up quickly and saw his eyes were closed, head tipped back.
I wrapped my other hand around the base of his cock and using that famed corkscrew motion, I used my mouth to give him a very very good BF. In between his moans, he said, “Oh baby, I’m so close, so close, don’t stop”. I sure wasn’t, as I was going to save face and make him cum.
Finally, he put his hands on my head and keep saying one word: *there*. I stayed *there*, keeping up my motions steady, increasing it slightly, until I felt his legs began to tremble. Then his back arched and he made that sweet sound, the one a man makes wen he is lost in the ecstasy of a wet hot mouth and nothing but time to spill his seed.
He erupted his hot salty stream into my mouth-once, twice then a third spurt. I was not at the right angle to swallow, so I just let his breathing slow and then I got up to spit. I doubt he was offended.
After rinsing my mouth out, I came back to bed with a warm washcloth and cleaned him up. I’m pleased to say he looked so relaxed and even had a slight flush to his cheeks.
Then we talked, like normal people and caressed each other, in the semi-darkness. I was too sore to do anything more. He understood.
Morning arrives,as it always does. We bathed, we hugged, we parted.
And that is the end of our tale. I hoped for more but no, not with him. Disappointed. Yes but life doesn’t come with gurantees.
Epilogue:
I will not let myself go without a man for such a long time again. The only wrinkle is that since he was so good, I need to replicate and exceed the bar he set. There are all sort of pithy sayings but I’ll say it–I’ve been sexually persuaded by a hot Asian and nothing else will do. For now, only a hard Asian cock (attached to an equally wonderful man) can satisfy me.
Can’t tell you if he is walking around with a saying as well. But I hope so, as he did mention that he seldom can come via oral and I did an excellent job.
I definitely didn’t plan on a one-night stand but I can say it was possibly the best one I’ll ever have.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6xbgya/fm_persuaded_by_a_hot_asian_sex_god_during_a