At the time, I thought of Morgan as a disposable bimbo, which certainly wasn’t fair. I’d returned from a year abroad to the US to continue my graduate work, and at that point a white girl seemed novel.
In the fall of 2006 Craigslist was a thing. We connected there, exchanged an email, and met the same day. She was a 1L at the same university, so we each only walked a few blocks. I’d never used CL before and meeting a stranger seemed almost dangerous, even in the afternoon daylight by the student center. We spotted each other easily. She was maybe 5’7″, brown hair with blonde highlights, and brown eyes, about 23. She had typical proportions, but I’d been with so many thin girls around that time that I think I perceived her as verging on chubby. I didn’t mind at all.
I had a hard time reading her. I’ve since learned that there’s something about some California people that seems off to me, and maybe that’s what it was. She was new to the East Coast, and we chatted a bit sitting outside about that and about law school before I suggested we walk, and I showed her back to my apartment in a dorm. She just went along easily with pretty much everything I suggested, which surprised me, since I was a total stranger to her. Her cow eyes and cow nature just placidly followed me.
Without any preamble or warning I kissed her, and again she submitted and followed my lead. I didn’t especially enjoy it. I was curious to see her naked though, and started to strip her almost immediately. With a couple minutes she was standing in my living room completely naked, while I remained fully clothed. She was fleshy, with sizable breasts and padding on her hips that was more than I was used to. She was nicely shaved, with just a bit of public hair, which I appreciated. We continued to make out and chat while she was completely naked. Eventually, I had her kneel on the floor while I unzipped and removed myself from my pants. She gave a credible blowjob while I was still dressed. I got bored after a couple minutes, pulled her up, and wordlessly walked her to the bedroom.
She asked me to wear a condom–just about the only thing she actually asked of me during the entire experience–and I did; I had a girlfriend and the time and it seemed like the responsible thing to do. We had basic caucasian missionary sex on my bed. I was watching her body the entire time, observing its differences and the ripple and jiggle that came with the response to my thrusting. Eventually I managed to get myself off and she went on her way.
She wrote me that she’d like to see more of me, though she wanted me to go down on her. I sort of notionally agreed, without any intention of following through. We met once or twice more, and I just used her the same way without any reciprocation, once fucking her while her friends were in the next room. I suppose I thought that because she was kind of dumb and not as attractive as I was I could do whatever I wanted; she was less a person and more a receptacle. In the end, I’m not sure I even particularly enjoyed it.
I looked her up just now and she’s doing fine: she has her own eponymous law firm in Pasadena, and plays sting bass in the LA Lawyers Philharmonic.
Author: pergesed
[M]y Bavarian bang: German lawyer [F] does reverse cowgirl
Diana came from Munich, or at least that’s where she’d been studying, mostly trademark and patents, privacy, and technology–typical lawyer stuff, especially around academia. She was in the US for an LLM.
We connected online, and on a cold evening in November 2015 went to meet at a local bar. Rolling in early, I saw from a distance a blonde woman dashing from door to door checking addresses. Of course, I thought, the German was even more than 15 minutes early. Before I could even get close or open my mouth, she saw me and called out “are you [pergesed]”?
For someone 26, she had an unusual look. Braided long blond hair was down to her waist, blue eyes with sharp features but too-big glasses that made her look nerdy, and rail thin. The dress what maybe I’d now call cottage core, though at the time I thought she looked like she’d dressed for another century. Later I learned she’d made it herself.
We headed into the bar. She needed no drinks to get voluble, talking all about the law, her academic interests, and sometimes let me get a word in. I didn’t mind the high energy level at all–she was engaged and clearly ready. I walked her out and back to my place after our second drink.
Ham sap, her [F] headscarf caem off
Shasha was a Malaysian central banker, no joke.
She had come to the US for a mid-career degree at a local policy school, and was heading back home to KL to climb the ranks a few months after we met. She’d agreed to go to a small, out of the way bar in the area, and, given her pious image, I wondered if she would show up.
She did, in a headscarf and very modest dress. She only drank cranberry juice, no alcohol, like a good Muslim. The conservative look didn’t totally hide her figure: she had large breasts on her relatively small frame. Her eyes came alive and communicated charisma as we chatted. She was around 32-33 I think, with jet black hair (wisps visible) and eyes. Her skin tone bordered on nutmeg. I detected a trace of acne scarring on a cheek despite well applied makeup. She was eager and easy to talk to–she’d gone to school in Europe and the UK, and then done a stint in DC repping the Southeast Asian region to the IMF, so we shared enough to get on well.
Semi-Swede [F] goes unlesbian
Shannon was one of the regrets. We’d met online—I think on one of the more serious non-Tinder sites—and arranged drinks.
She had long corn silk hair and a blue-eyed stare that felt direct and unmediated enough to draw me in. I’m not especially into the blonde/blue type, maybe because I look that way myself, but she wore it well. Her looks and surname made me think of her as Scandi, though she’d been born here.
I liked her too because she felt age-appropriate, around 32 at the time. (The women I usually met were in their twenties.)
To date she’s the only Montanan I’ve met, and had an interesting story. She was near completion on her doctoral degree, and trained as a clinical psychologist. I respected that. She had the sort of helping personality I associate with those professions. She was also a lesbian. Or at least had only been dating women and was still in a long term relationship with a female partner.
Stretching out a seasonal mami’s [F] tube dress
Autumn was a hot mess. We met on tinder. She’d dropped into town from Nashville for the weekend on business—maybe a convention. After basic preliminaries we agreed to meet that afternoon, a Saturday.
Her figure matched the photos. About 5’3, long dark hair, and large dark eyes, 25. A tawny complexion that rounded out an ethnically ambiguous look. Maybe Latina, or possibly darker upland Southeast Asian. I never found out. She was thicker than my typical preference, but, you know, variety is the spice of life. Sometimes it’s good to grab a fatter ass.
She was open and easy, not what I’d expected from an accountant. The conversation flowed without the need for any alcohol. I felt like I was getting a window into all kinds of things beyond my life: southern lifeways (she’d grown up in Tennessee) sorority culture, and so on.
While we finished the first drink, I heard about her frustrated Friday. She’d tried to bait a work colleague also in town into a hookup. That he had a serious girlfriend only made it better for her. She’d gotten him drunk and feeling her up, but when they went to her hotel room morals struck and he wouldn’t go further than groping. He’d been texting her all day and she was thinking about how else to enjoy her weekend.
A twice told tale, with less emphasis on her opinion of my [M] floral shirts
Years after these events, I was casually surfing stories on student-teacher hookups (not on Reddit), and one started to seem very familiar. I remembered it differently—less pontificating, no Nat King Cole. Since Elizabeth told her version, here’s mine.
I was a graduate student living as an RA in a large dorm of about 400 during my final year before finishing my degree. My best friend there, Thomas, was in the same position. I came to think of him as a talent spotter. He had an eye for the undergrad women, and saw and appreciated their various charms keenly. He never behaved inappropriately. In fact, all the girls found him delightful, and not creepy at all.
Thomas’s eye would often change my view, and I’d start to notice a girl I hadn’t before. That was the case with Elizabeth. He pointed her out. She was a sophomore, 19, new to the place, 5’5”, brown hair, white. She’d move around, but was a Midwesterner. She had a big mouth, in an attractive way. Her breasts fit her perfectly, noticeable on her frame and contrasted nicely with her waist. What really made the difference though was her personality. It had a bit of a male current running through it. She had some dark streaks, and a subversive sensibility.
The small-breasted frenemy [F] and my [M] lost Harry Potter
I’ll make my first story a simple one.
Jess was a peripheral member of the small friend group I had living abroad for a year in grad school. She was frenemies with my acquaintance Jenny—they were both there on Fulbrights—but even though the city was big we all hung out together semi regularly. None of us had really made local friends.
I didn’t like her very much. She was self centered and annoying, and not very smart, though she made a point of talking about she went to Cornell and it was a great school. Maybe I’m biased because she borrowed and then never returned a hardcover Harry Potter book from me.
Physically, she was shorter, maybe 5’4”, brown hair and eyes, proportionate figure, half Asian half Jewish. She was from suburban Atlanta I think, and had a very slight twang in her accent. She did have a big smile, and could smile with her eyes. She was 22 at the time, in 2005.