It was his fantasy, Outdoors with his hand
between my legs.
We talked to death about it, planning what naughty, sexy things we’d do when we meet. It was eight more months before we’d meet in the Summer in Seoul. When heat was still in our loins and we were attracted even though we met online and vid sex was the only high we could get, that was enough.
“Do you think we’ll still be talking by then?” I asked.
The summer of 2024 seemed so far away. I wasn’t the innocent MILF I was before. After the first Summer in Seoul, I met HY on Bumble just as I was leaving Asia. Back to the US and the Bubble, where I’d live the rest of my life till I was freed from my cage of suburbia the following year.
He wasn’t really my type. Age-wise and looks, weren’t Kboy cute and hot. He was also sly because, like many guys online, they catfished and he’d uploaded his pics ten years ago when he was still in college and super cute and mischievous then.
It didn’t take much digging to know he wasn’t how he looked like before, especially after he’d shown his Kakao and I saw his present pics.
“Hey, those pics in your dating profile are old,” I said. I have a thing about this. I disliked being tricked by really old pics. Trust is important to me.
“Oh…hahhaha. I don’t take many pics,” he said.
“Right…you chose your best ones,” I added an emoticon of an annoyed face.
I was on to him. These Koreans like to fake it as far as they can. I don’t get it. The ruse would be pulled off the moment we meet.
Is that okay? Catfishing? It seemed very prevalent amongst the Koreans, whose image meant everything to them. Maybe they think that through some chatting, the personality wouldn’t matter anymore? Not saying others don’t. Maybe my pool was skewed.
I get that. Online gaming and hiding behind the screen made it possible. And with AI, no one would ever know what you really look like. And if you don’t like the way you look, with money, you can carve yourself a new face.
I’m old school. It is tempting to have a new nose, but the thought of going under for that…what if I don’t wake? I have too much to lose. I plan to live a long, long life.
“Don’t you ever do that!” H warned. Okay, not in those words, but the meaning was there.
He’d be pissed if I did anything to my body for the sake of beauty. Which is cool that I’m loved the way I am. Though losing a few pounds wouldn’t hurt my esteem. In fact, losing those thirty pounds was the reason why my fans went nuts because those curves took on a whole new sexy.
Hourglass. Yes, my pride. Women got curves, and if we got them, we should flaunt them. Shame on those naysayers who said thin is good and curves are not.
We all have our types. So, girl, don’t you think that hot young Korean/Asian guy won’t like you? You never know his type till you try. Do-ja giving up now, girl?
“I like thick women. The bigger the breasts and the bigger the ass, the better,” said HY, my new friend.
“I’ve a mummy tummy,” I said, embarrassed that he wanted to see all of me, and to take my hands off the parts that embarrassed me.
“I love all of it. Every curve is beautiful,” he said.
And yes, Koreans are great at their sweet words, and love bombing is insane there, but my ears loved to hear what my heart did.
H telling me all the time how my body is beautiful wasn’t the same. After being with someone for two decades, you lose your sense of perspective. It’s hard not to think your loved ones are biased because beauty was indeed the eye of the beholder.
Until I met my FWB here, SF boy, another story to come, HY’s words meant something. And those fans and friends made all the difference.
Age was just a number, and though HY was ten years younger than I, instead of the twenty-year gaps that I liked, he was a true friend. Sex wasn’t the only thing we talked about. And he was someone who respected my time and my moods.
“I’m happy with myself. At this point in my life, I don’t care what people think,” he smiled. “I’m not tall but I have a big dick,” he laughed as we headed to his car.
We were going for lunch and met for the first time at the lobby by the hotel elevator, where I met every guy. For once, we were going for a meal at Namsan and a drive around Myeongdong after so he could show me some parts of the city.
I was wearing a one-piece green Christmas dress. Sleeveless and hugged my body like snake-skin, skimming my knees, and slipping up my thighs when I sat. A pair of white sneakers and my LV bag to add to the Fit.
If someone were to see us together, we could look like a married couple, because he looked thirty-five and I looked like the mid-30s, or maybe younger. He was an ajusshi, and I was one who refused to face reality.
“People are looking…,” I said, hiding my face with my hand as we strolled along the castle walls with cute cafes lining our other side.
“I wish I wore something more normal,” I said. “Maybe, black, white, or more conservative.” My boobs and curves look too big in the crowd. For a few minutes, I was back to my old self.
“You look beautiful and sexy,” he smiled. “Don’t worry about what people think.”
He was right. Confidence made up for everything. Who the fuck cared? The MILF cougar prowled the day. No more lurking in the night. Seoul men beware, and girls take note, the big cat was hunting today.
We got into his car, and as he drove around the city, his hand reached for my thigh. Bright afternoon sun lit our smiling faces, and as we waited by a bus on his left side, his fingers crept up under my dress.
The traffic light was red, and cars pulled up around us. Music blasting in his normal sedan.
“Do you want it?” I asked him, giggling. We were being crazy.
Why shouldn’t we do what we want? This was his country, and if he was fine, I should be too.
My right hand went under my dress and hooked my black laced T-panty. Like a fisherman, I pulled the panties down and out as he watched and laughed.
Like a stripper, I twirled my panties with my finger and tossed them at him.
“For me?” he grinned.
“Yes,” I giggled.
He tucked my tong away and then dropped his hand to my smooth skin. His car skimmed across the lanes as his hand rubbed my thigh, inching in each time when he could drive with one hand. While my hands reached for his raw stick. Lips brushing his sensitive skin when I could.
We laughed, moaned, and played, not caring if the world saw. The sun smirked as his car dove deep into the parking garage. We were back in my hotel.
He parked between two cars, and I turned to him. “What about the CCTVs? And the black boxes?” I pointed to the cars beside us.
“They can’t see us,” he said.
His hands pulled down the top of my dress, and my breasts sprang out. The bra was already gone during our daring drive through Seoul.
Mouth nursing my large nipples as his hands went for my wetness between my thighs. He pushed me between the front seats. Stuck between the sides, he grabbed my hips and thrusted me.
I gasped loudly and cried as he hammered hard with his thick cock. Hand over my mouth, he kept pounding. The sounds of cars screeching through the garage levels didn’t stop him.
Over and over, he hammered into me. His hot breath behind my ear, his hands pulling my wavy hair back like a stallion humping his rider.
“I’m cumming,” I moaned. “I’m cumming…”
“Me too…you…” he groaned, and then a car appeared.