
He smirked at me
“I just got a message. My grandparents want me over at their place at 4.”
It had been an hour and a half since he came to my hotel room. Before that, I told him I wasn’t coming because I thought he wasn’t committed to this.
I told him it was an hour before our meeting, and he’d not contacted me since the morning. His reason was he had a late night and just woke up.
He was good at emotional blackmail and taunting. And I was a competitive, childish person who always had to prove herself, so his egging worked.
His snide remarks implied that I was wasting his time canceling our meeting and that I wasn’t planning to meet him all along.
I told him I packed my “fun bag” the night before and would be at the hotel as we agreed.
Because I owed him one.
I promised him a meal for head-butting his jaw the first time we met after a year of chasing and waiting.
Why? Because last year, after chatting for a month and vid sex, we agreed he was the one.
To pluck my adulteress cherry.
Yes, after over twenty years of being with H, it was time to break that chastity belt. H had already done his, and it was my turn. But in the end, the night before “THE DAY” happened, I called him and canceled.
H said I needed an older guy to show me a good time. Older yes but younger than me by ten years. The other guy was experienced, chill, and more like-minded with me.
We chatted and could talk about anything, and everything under the sun.
The only thing was, this older guy, J, had COVID-19 and was out of commission for the past three or so weeks.
This pussy was getting impatient. The June date when I was supposed to go to Seoul, my Disneyland was drawing close, and I didn’t want to be an adulteress virgin and
embarrassed myself for not being the sexy milf that every guy was waiting for.
Let’s call him Boom for boomerang, which I’d explain later. So, he was 24 at that time, and though he looked older than I looked when I was 24, he had his man parts ready for a good fuck.
So, H said Boom was too young for my first sexual encounter. But mainly, Boom was kinda complaining about driving down to meet me.
I had to pay for our hotel which H didn’t like because it was my first.
I should be a princess. I should be given a good time and, if possible, a nice sweet explosion.
As H’s Hotwife, I needed standards, and also as H’s Hotwife, and being in the highest demand of >10K horny likes in Tinder, I deserved the best.
And back to the future. Here we were again, about a year later. Meeting again on two dating apps. Bumble first, where we just said ‘hi’ briefly, and when we met on Hinge again, we started talking.
“So, have you been deflowered, or do I still need to help? Lol,” he texted.
“That was almost a year ago!” I replied. “Lots of things have changed, but I’m still looking for my local FWB.”
Have you found your FWB?” he texted.
“R you saying I took a roundabout way and came right back to u?” I laughed. “Boomerang”
“I’m just saying you don’t need to look for a FWB anymore.”
“Boomerang. Should have started with u and save myself a journey? Lol,” I said.
Yeah…if only flirts weren’t lies and all of us were always sincere in our quest to find someone meaningful.
For a guy who was good-looking, tall, and working for a VC as an analyst, things seemed to be going well with him.
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I always seem to have FWBs. The closest I got to was a FWB for six months. We seemed to get along well, and suddenly, we stopped talking and meeting,” he said.
“Why did we stop meeting?” he asked. “Isn’t it because of your H? He didn’t want us to meet?”
“Ahh…I think so…” I replied. I didn’t need to tell him more. What was the point? My cherry was taken and life went on.
“You didn’t miss me too. I know you had many girls…”
“Yeah…” He used a smiley. “I had my fun but I was always thinking of the milf I missed.”
Of course. Who didn’t think of the one that got away? I had my fair share of that too. Till now I still regretted not giving that hot Korean guy on Ometv my insta clearly or showed him my boobs when he was hinting he wanted to see them.
As for Boom and I, maybe, fate was telling me it wasn’t a boomerang. Despite my free and open lifestyle, this wasn’t a kdrama for FWBs.
Maybe, what I initially thought was a serendipitous moment was actually a warning.
“You need to work on your radar,” said H. “You still can’t tell who are the jerks and whom you should pass.”
“I know…” I sighed. “I suck. I suck so bad.” I giggled. Yeah. Couldn’t resist that bimbo joke.
Red flags, green flags. Some put these as questions in their profiles. I see Instagrammers talking a lot about that to foreigners visiting Korea.
But it wasn’t just Korea; anyone looking for a connection had to be careful.
The world was full of good and bad people. The bad came on many levels—ignorant, selfish, and hurtful; egotistical manipulators; and, the worst, scammers.
So, after our chat, Boom and I met.
Blood gushed from his lip. Busted because of our heated kissing and passionate hand-jerking cock and pussy motions.
He drove two hours in traffic to see me and an hour and a half back to his home. The car was cramped for his six feet four, and we were limbs and legs, fighting for space.
Somewhere in the excitement, I lost my green panties. No, he didn’t take them, but it probably made for a surprise the next day.
It was the shower of blood that stopped us. Lust smote by my shock and his cussing. Yes, the head-butting was bad. I was short, and my head struck his jaw up, and I felt totally terrible.
I owed him one. Owed him a meal, I told him. But what he wanted was the human type. Lust made men go crazy, and the forbidden fruit was impossible to resist.
I was his first milf, and he had a checklist to fill.
The sex wasn’t bad. It was typical vanilla. One of the reasons why I wanted to cancel was because I sensed he was unwilling to be the pervert that I wanted him to be. I said I wanted to film.
My flasher instinct was riding high, and in the heat of the week after my moon’s cycle, I wanted to make that sex vid, and they wanted it, too.
They? Yes, my fans. My guys, my online friends. I’d accumulated a following, and enjoyed sharing my acts of passion and naughtiness with them.
Their horniness, their hard-ons, and their ejaculations got me excited.
I was expecting a fun time. I wore my sexy red lingerie with a V-cut lace in the front, breasts hanging deliciously with erect nipples.
From the back view, it was backless with only red strings across my back and a few ribbons of red down my ass for garter straps. My large ass cheeks, round, peachy-perting, ready for a good doggy time.
I was ready to film. I brought my toys, like a black whip and thin black leather collar and cuffs to accentuate my red, and a white maid costume for my next outfit.
But he never saw my maid costume. We never passed stage one.
Boom wasn’t the FWB I was looking for. The perv who could play with me and give me the explosive sex and orgasms I was looking for, and which I, in turn, would make him wish for more.
I wanna be his sexy dream. I wanna be the girl he’d never forget and would always think of when he wanted to jerk himself.
Who he’d wish could give him an awesome head when he was feeling stressed. The woman who would make him cum more than he ever did after he’d watched my vids or stared at my pics.
In the years to come, he’d still remember that fresh time when we met and did this naughty thing.
Or, if he was lucky, and so was I, we would be the best FWBs and have that stretch of memories that we could remember fondly.
But it wasn’t the case with Boom.
I rode him the moment he sat down. We French kissed, and his hands were all over my red dress — a sweet one-piece with a flared skirt. Innocent looking, but under it was a seductress.
His large hands cupped my large ass. Squeezing them hard as I dry-humped him. His hard cock poking from his pants.
My pussy was wet as I rubbed myself on him. My hands in his curls, and our lips locked and tongues sliding in and out.
The room was a little home with a whole kitchenette and a large fridge. A studio hotel was meant for office travelers who had to stay more than a week.
A microwave and large sink came with plates, utensils, and a dishwasher.
The sofa where we were making out was beside a wall and a full-length mirror. I saw it when I arrived, and my brain exploded with ideas. Several online friends loved mirrors, and I wanted to play with them.
But Boom looked at it and was confused when I smirked—a moment lost again to our differences.
There was a curtain separating the sofa from the bed — a divider between the office table and sofa space from the sleeping area.
The bed was a King and large, facing a window with semi-see-through shades.
The sun came in hot, and the idea of fucking in front of it was something most of us think of. Again, he failed to see the fun.
I climbed on the bed and he humped me. Took off our clothes and we humped more. He came and I played with my dildo and his large hand choked me as I cummed.
That little part was fun, and the shower was fun, but with all things considered, together with our chowing down on Korean fried chicken and japchae over Animal Channel's pet friends show, our time was over.
I could have given him some advice on how to snag a girl for life—or at least for longer than six months—instead of being left hanging and ghosted.
If he had changed, he could have had more, not just sex but friends and a life partner.
Maybe, if this was how it always went with him, it was no wonder those girls were FWBs.
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t expecting a relationship. But I was expecting more chatter, more enjoyment of our time together.
He was a Level one — a nice jerk with typical Asian son expectations and a pampered life, which most Asian guys got growing up in this day and age.
This life of entitlement was centuries of carrying the family name. In the past, the boys got more, ate better, and were given priority in how the family spent their money, time, and love.
Only sons got the best of the best; nothing had changed, and nothing would now.
“These men are man babies, if not, then fucking cowards,” said H. Many of the girls he talked to complained about guys like that.
“Then where are the guys who are horny and also nice? Like you?” I grinned. It’s true, I wasn’t trying to butter H up.
There were a few beacons of light in the dating apps. After chatting with probably over two hundred guys in the last year, I’d say I was able to snag a few.
It wasn’t easy, but I’m lucky, and I’d soon find out, too, in my next journey to Seoul, if we were meant to be FWBs.
I didn’t care if Boom wanted to leave earlier. It was better than staying the appointed time like that one hot Japanese guy.
It was the smirk that he gave as he asked if we wanted to meet again, and I shrugged, which snagged a few tears because I’d lost. He got what he wanted and escaped my claws.
But I never thought he was worth keeping. I did my obligation and paid him back, and we had a decent time.
Still, the aftertaste lingered. It wasn’t what I’d hoped for in the end. And the lessons learned were that I shouldn’t compromise, and I didn’t have to feel guilty.
Each sex was precious, and if I didn’t get what I wanted, it was a waste of time.
My temple was sacred, and my angel heart gotta wear some armor because only bitches ruled and cougars hunted.