Author: ChuckBerryGoldwater

More fun with [m]y British Indian [f]riend

After we finished, she lay naked in my arms, kissing my collarbone.

'Just what I needed' she giggled, propping herself up with an elbow. She grabbed my flaccid member, 'how long does it usually take for you to be ready for another go?'

I didn't have a good answer, so she offered to make us tea. She stood, walked to her bathrobe hanging on the door, and slipped the robe on. The site of her firm, round ass; the loose sway of her hips; the way her deep brown skin shown in the dim light. These things are among the best arguments I've heard for the existence of a kind and loving God.

I heard her and another female voice from the kitchen, undoubtedly discussing what just happened. She returned with tea, a glowing smile on her face. She sat in my naked lap as we drank. Soon I was 'ready'

'You really like this tea, huh" she smirked, putting her cup on the bedside table and dropping her robe. She sank eagerly to her knees, stroking me she kissed the tip a few times before slowly bobbing her head. I groaned, stroking her hair. She moved faster, stroking me as she took more and more of me in her mouth. She removed her nimble hand and lowered herself until i heard her gag. Read more »

Making an Indian [f]riend [m]y first night in London

Between undergrad and the start of grad school, I decided to cross off "backpack through Europe" from my bucket list. My journey started in London because I had some friends from school who I could crash with there.

We went out to a pub on my first night to see a local band. My mate Rob swore they were fantastic to see live, but honestly I was feeling the jet lag more than a bit and Rob's friends were rubbing me the wrong way. I went outside for the pretense of a smoke when I saw her. She was tall, maybe 5'7, slender with wide hips and a dark complection. I don't have a type…. but she was making a very persuasive case for why south Asian should be my type.

"You're American." She grinned, her deep brown eyes lighting up.

"How'd you guess."

"I'm psychic. And your t-shity has your name of your school on it". Her body was pure India, but her accent was straight from the BBC. We chatted for a bit and she said "look, this band's rubbish. I'm only here because my flatmate dragged me. Want to go grab a beer somewhere quiter?" I very much did. I went to go tell Rob i'd met a girl and not to wait up, but I could see he was chatting up a guy and decided not to block. I sent him a text and went on our merry way. Read more »

Hatefucking, part 2 of 2

I awoke to a series of progresively more explicit snap chats from her. I sent her back a pic of the 'standing ovation' they produced.

"wow," she replied by text. "Glad I made an impression."

I responded with a weak text about how we should talk about our expectations from each other.

"Why are you liberals always so obsessed with people's feelings. she responded."

A few minutes later I got another text. "Are your roommates home?"

"No, why."

"I'm out for a jog.. thought I'd visit while I'm all sweaty."

"I'm not dressed yet."

"Good, dummy, I don't want you to be <3 See you in five."

Five minutes later the door bell rang. I threw a bathrobe over my boxers and she walked in.

"Nice place," she teased when she saw my cramped, mess living room. She was in sweat pants and a baggy tea shirt. Ever the modest one even on an unseasonably warm april day. "Show me your bedroom." Read more »

Hatefucking in her boyfriend’s office (M/f) (Part 1 of 2)

So, just a bit about me before I begin. my screenname is a joke, I'm probably somewhere to the left of Bernie Sanders*. I was pretty active in political organizations at my school, which made me not particularly liked by some of the more conservative people on campus, especially the SGA and Greek Life.

Eileen is the type of girl who'd fit in well on Fox News. She's a tall, perky, slender blonde with politics on the hard right end of the spectrum. I had had very public shouting matches during SGA meetings with both her and her boyfriend Jake, who at the time of this story had just been elected vice president of the student government.

I was surprised to see her when I went into my favorite bar one night at about 8pm. The bars in the town where my college is located are very heavily segregated by social circle. My bar is hipsters, punks, and the sort. She did not fit in in her black cocktail dress and expensive looking heels.

"Are you lost?" I teased her as I approached the bar, ordered a jack and coke. Read more »