Who is your daddy?
“Say it,” he said, “Say it, and I’ll give you my cock.”
“Daddy, please. I need you,” I replied. At this point, I was already a little sex drunk, and Doc-to-be knew what he was doing. He had me round his fingers. Literally.
His fingers were lightning fast, knowing when to rub my G-spot and when to strike. His understanding of the female anatomy and her reactions to his touch made him an excellent lover.
We met for lunch on a Sunday, my last day in Seoul, at a book cafe. We were supposed to go on a date at a museum, but I wanted to do my Cougar cafe meet before jumping right into bed. We had lunch, did our rounds at the books, and decided that was enough. Online, we’d been talking dirty and waiting patiently for the day when I arrived in Seoul.
Minutes before. His cab arrived just as mine did. I was mulling over why the cab driver kept checking his rear view mirror, and as Doc and I were climbing up the cafe stairs, I stared into the mirror facing us, and I instantly knew why.
“Oh my god! My nipples!” I covered my mouth in horror. I was wearing a baby pink T-shirt and black skorts. My big nipples were erect, happily showing off their pearls.
“Yeah. I saw them,” he grinned. And in a snap, his fingers pinched my left nipple.
My face flushed. I wasn’t expecting that. He was naughty despite his angelic look. A guy with such a beautiful face probably had girls falling all over him, but I refused to tell him that, even at the end. Perhaps he was waiting for me to say something, and he hinted when we left.
I wanted to think he was more than looks. I’ve met plenty of handsome Korean guys, some of whom are shallow. Koreans take K-beauty to the next level. But, people are people, and putting standards on the rich, beautiful, powerful, and intelligent and assuming they are the best, and feeling like shit about yourself, isn’t the way to live.
He wasn’t like that. This was his plus point. Everyone was created equal, and life was about experiences.
Doc rushed me into the hotel room. His lips were pressed on mine, and he wanted his fingers in me. We fought for control, and his went into me fast.
“Wait…wait..I’m sweaty…” I panted and pushed him off. He watched me as I sauntered into the bathroom. My see-through lace lingerie was wet from running everywhere in the morning. Thinking back, on the subway, the Korean ajummas, kids, and men, old and young, were sitting or standing near me, watching.
No one said a word about my nipples.
I thought it was taboo to show a little top skin. No shoulders, no dips of cleavage. What about erect nipples, saying hi to everyone?
Where were the ajummas when I needed them?
Three hours later, we are in my hotel room, and I step out of the bathroom in a sexy, black satin nightgown. My large pale moon breasts half mooning in the lace, and my famous nipples peeping at my new lover.
Doc grabbed my hands, pulled me to the bed, and pounced on me. His fingers were already in my pussy, not waiting for it to be wet, while he kissed me hard.
In and out his fingers went, forcing my thick pussy lips back, making me take two, three, and then all of his four fingers as I moaned and fought him. His lips on my neck, biting and attacking my breasts. His smooth voice echoed in my ear as I felt him tear off his clothes.
I cummed once, and then again, and then squirted a shower of water, and he laughed and finger fucked me more.
“No…no…waait…” I tried to move from the attack of his fingers, and he pushed me down, into a doggy position, and thrust his hard, pink cock into me.
He grunted. “So good. Your pussy feels so good.” Hard and fast, hard and fast, spanking my giant watermelon ass. My pussy was lubricated and wet from cumming many times. His cock was slippery with my juices and his precum.
“I’m cumming…,” He whispered in my ear, and shuddered.
The sounds of his cumming made me more excited. I came after him, loving the way guys jerk and cum and the feeling of his warm liquid pouring into me as his cock squeezed every last drop. His body lay on mine for a few minutes, and he was flipping me over again and attacking me with my dildo this time.
Splashes and rainfalls later, and a very wet bed, he entered my pussy again. Pounding me hard from behind and flipping me and pounding me again.
His surprise gift was a pill.
Viagra.
He wanted to try it, and we learned it kept him hard. I used his stiff cock, riding him as him filmed us. Together, sexed and sweat and juices, he cummed again and again, and I squirted everywhere.
“Again,” he said, and finger fucked me.
“No…no…” I fought back.
I cummed, and squirted again, and we added a few more to the count.
My phone was lit up. Camera pointing at my pussy as he kept at it. “Tell everyone in the camera. How many have you cummed?” He demanded.
His fingers fucking hard in my stretched pussy. He didn’t care I was slowing down. We had a goal. “Sixteen times…” I whimpered.
“Wow. Sixteen fucking times! How many shall we cum?” He asked, fingers thrusting hard, and I’m fighting to get away. The sounds of my squirts bursting through my pussy, begging for him to stop. “How about twenty? Let’s make it twenty fucking times!”
“Daddy…please…daddy…stop…” I begged, tears trickling down my cheeks.
“Why? We are not twenty yet.” He grinned.
“I…I need to rest…” my voice dropping. My head was spinning. I wasn’t on the edge; I was past it. I was trying to lift and fly.
“Rest?” He smirked.
“Please…daddy…” My heart was racing weakly. My pussy was crying to take a breather. Thighs were shaking.
“Fine. Rest,” he said, and got off.
We had a yummy sushi dinner, went for a nice evening walk, and when we came back, he pounced on me again. Dessert never tasted sweeter with the mist of lust and need to fuck. Fingers, body parts, tongues, and leashes. We played for hours, and went on even after he came.
Before the clock struck twelve, a new record was achieved.
Twenty-three.
My head was buzzing with sex, lips set in a smile with him lying by my side. Sheets changed, new blankets and towels later, we were finally ready to sleep.
“East Asians are grow-ers, not show-ers,” he said. He showed me his cock and explained.
“It isn’t true that all Asians have small dicks,” I said. Being that I’m somewhat of an expert and Team East Asian, I knew. I like grow-ers. Surprises are always fun.
Except when. It isn’t. It’s kind of a downer.
“Are you a size Queen?” Some guys ask.
Such a trick question. It’s like a girl asking if she’s fat. There isn’t a right way to say it. I’d be punished whichever way.
So daggers or lightsabers?
“Pleasing a woman is the best, and knowing how to use that cock,” I often say. I told that to the Big dicks and the Smalls. Every guy deserved to know, it wasn’t just pound, pound, cum, and go.
That’s why I had my trusty bag of tricks. In it, a variety of dildos, lingerie, leashes, and stuff.
So, yes, to Lightsabers, and perverted Byontae minds. To the lucky few guys, and especially Doc, I’d smile when you ask:
“Who is your daddy?”
You are. You are my father.