I was in college when I met the guy who introduced me to the kinky side of sex. (He lives in another city now, but we still meet up.) He's Chinese, well built, short-cropped hair, full luscious lips, a tattoo on his strong muscled calf, and sublime golden skin that demands to be kissed.
I've always been attracted to Asian 'bad boys' with a 'mean look' and a dominant streak.
Conversely, he never took notice of the pretty white girls who drooled, panted and lusted after him. So what made me - a white girl - worthy of his attentions?
Well, aside from my resemblance to an actress he considered cute (Lauren Cohan) he saw my obsessive attraction to him as an opportunity to live out some fantasy role-play.
His thing is domination with a racial twist: He's very proud of his Chinese heritage and sees my sexual submission to him as acknowledgement of his 'superior ancestry'. A lot of the Asian guys I know, love basking in their sexual power over me, but no one revels in it quite as much as him. He loves having me in his thrall; hopelessly and helplessly grovelling for a chance to swallow his cum.
One afternoon, he called me at the office where I was temping after graduating college. Just his hot breath on the phone was enough to light me up down there. He told me he was completely naked and was lying in bed stroking himself. That image alone was enough to make my throat catch and my mouth go dry. I giggled and whispered that I'd love him to send me a picture of that. But he replied that he wanted to use my mouth and told me that if I wanted the "privilege of servicing him", I should get off work early and start driving to his place.
I was extremely turned on by his demanding tone but I reminded him that he lived two hours away and that I had work the next day. He wasn't having any of it. He told me he'd "make me work" harder than my boss ever could and that I needed his hot Chinese cock in my throat. My face felt flushed and I kept looking around the office to make sure no one was paying attention.