“He wants to be squashed like a bug and caged like an animal,”
His name is Al, and he said he liked Dommes and got a kick out of being ordered around. Being a Domme wasn’t my thing. As a cougar, I enjoyed pouncing on my young fish, but at the end of the fight, the switch was what I loved.
I didn’t think much when Al and I started chatting a year ago. I was on a new local dating app — Hinge, which focused on matching singles looking to get hitched.
Marrying wasn’t a possibility, so I had to be creative. I didn’t want to lie to the guys on the app, and if it were Bumble or Tinder, I would have stated my intentions clearly.
H and I made a bet I’d not get a fish to bite if I didn’t list I was looking for FWB. It wasn’t nice to assume all men were after sex. Or that I wasn’t worth chasing if I hadn’t put myself out for fun and sex.
“It’s not fair. That’s not an even playing field," he said. He often complained about how Asian men in the Bay Area don’t get the girls. The white men always had the upper hand.
Things were turning around for him now, months after this discussion. If I were to objectify, it was his tight pants and Asian hotness. H was delicious, and this Milf only picked the best to procreate. I am his hotwife and he was my hothusband. Together, we played and hunted the dating field.
Forget Mbti. Boobs or butt? Which are you?
I couldn’t help myself. I had to give myself that. My profile had to be unique, naughty, and spicy. No pics in lingerie, but my words spoke louder. It's the same reason why I was shadow-banned from Tinder. Yes, Tinder was the one app that nudes probably could go through without a blink of an eye. But it wasn’t the nudes that got me in trouble. My ego, curiosity, and maybe housewife boredom caused it.
A dirty poem. I wrote the prose in English and translated it into Korean because I thought Tinder bots weren’t smart enough to translate a picture written in Korean as something naughty. The poem, which you can find on my site, was written from a naughty ASMR that I created.
WTF. The one thing I never considered was the human element. A jilted Korean fish-to-be probably hated that I didn’t pick him, complained, and banned me.
And so I digressed. So…back to our favorite sub.
Al seemed normal enough—a typical Asian American engineer in the Valley of Engineers.
His type of personality was plenty here. Probably brought up in an Asian immigrant family, first or second gen. Middle income. With unlimited expectations such as getting grades As, AP and honor classes, piano playing, Science, Math, and Spelling bees, and Chinese after school and other weekend sports and learning. Hanging out with other Asian pals, going to one of the Universities in California and then finding a programming job in the valley.
His age was 27, within my like age range - having worked a few years and being the young, virile, and horny type who could keep going. However, I learned my hunger for sex was still too much for these guys.
With his boyish looks, Al is cuter than most. You would never suspect the dirty boy inside that outward facade. And, unlike the others, last year when we first spoke, Al approached me from a different point of attack — seeking instead to learn how to cook.
I loved to cook and was a huge foodie. I couldn’t resist helping. He was living alone and needed some skills to survive. Call it mama instincts, food instincts, or hungry hungry cougar. I was caught. Smart guy.
We were supposed to meet at a park. Maybe play a little in the car to get a feel of each other. But our first meeting in the park didn’t happen because he pulled out first.
“Sorry. I can’t meet. I have a girlfriend now," he said. “We agreed to date online first.”
“Okay…” I wasn’t shocked. A little disappointed. Half of the guys I chatted with or met had significant others or wives. The other half might have girls they were meeting and dating. Online chatting didn’t transcend into commitment, and I wanted no restraint, so I expected them to like the freedom our open chat and sex gave.
H and I didn’t judge. We didn’t believe we were doing anything wrong. The guilt lay with the other party. If it weren’t with us, it would have been someone else. Relationships were complicated. This wasn’t a self-help book or a psychology lesson on why people cheat. And if you are reading this, you ain't a Puritan.
Talking to Al caught up again after I returned from Asia. It was October, and he told a secret I never thought I’d hear.
“My first meetings are in coffee shops. I won’t want to be trapped in a guy’s house,” I said.
“Yeah…I know how that feels. I was almost trapped once,” Al replied.
“Huh? A girl blocked your way? How?” Al was six feet. Not bulky but definitely not easy to overcome.
“Not girl. A guy," he said.
“Woah…wait a minute. Guy? What…what are you doing with a guy?” The last time I knew from chatting with him, he was straight, not bisexual. Al liked girls. He liked girl parts very much. He enjoyed my Insta updates, and we traded vids of us masturbating.
“I was going to give him a blow job," he texted it so casually.
“Omg! Whhhhyy?” I forgot to breathe. This was insane.
“My Domme ordered me to do it.”
“The girl in London? Your girlfriend?”
“Yes…” He added a smiley face.
“Whyyyy?”
“She wanted me to suck dick. I had to film it.”
My jaw dropped. Literally. I seriously didn’t know what to say. Flabbergasted. I had to tell someone.
“Dear!!!” I shouted, rushing to our bedroom, looking for H because he got to hear all the juicy gossip the second I got them. H wasn’t just my husband. He was my best pal and the only person who knew everything about me and my secrets.
“A sucked dick!” I whispered after H told me to shush it because our kids were sleeping. “Oh my god! He sucks dick for his Domme!” I spoke in hush tones. My face red with excitement.
“What? Who?" he dropped his iPad on his lap. He liked watching his documentaries and Netflix movies after work while I texted my friends in Korea. “Why?”
“Because his Domme told him to do it, and told him to film it!!”
“Shhh…you’re too loud. Always too loud.” He frowned. Our lives have changed since last year. In the beginning, we weren’t as casual about sex with strangers. There was something freeing about our conversations that most people would find weird.
I jumped onto the bed and continued texting.
“And so you did it?” I asked Al, trying to hold back my excitement. Didn’t want to scare my fish away.
“Not with that guy," he replied.
“Why? U said he cornered u.”
“He did. This guy was big and aggressive. Intense. I don’t like guys, but I was attracted to him.”
“Really? Why?”
“He was a real dom. He wanted me to suck him. I like that kind of energy.”
“So you mean that’s sexy? So it’s to be dominated that you like?”
“I like the intensity but I didn’t feel like it…," he said.
“He must be upset that you changed your mind,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“So what did you tell your Domme?”
“I told her I’d find someone else…” he said.
“Where do you find these men?” I was still shocked by the idea of Al sucking dick. I agree I’m not as flexible as I should be, but it was just unexpected after all the flirting and playing we did together and him not showing up in my gaydar.
“Sometimes Tinder, Grindr or Twitter," he said.
“Did you have sex with them?”
“Definitely not. I’m not into guys.”
“But you suck their cocks…”
“That’s when I was okay with cocks. I don’t do that now.”
“I’m confused…”
“I do what my Domme tells me, but I also draw the line.”
“So sex is drawing the line?”
“Yeah…” he said. Mind you, our conversations were based on my memory and could be somewhat fictitious because I lost our convos when I deleted my Line app. Still, the gist was there. Our Al was a major Domme boy.
And he wasn’t the first I’d spoken to.
“He gets high on control,” said H. “He wanna be squashed like a bug and caged like an animal. He probably gets high in anticipation that his Domme hasn’t come to see him. She keeps changing the dates, and that makes him more excited.”
Submissives came in all shapes, forms, ages, and races. Unlike Al, I’d be the first to rebel if a Dom would order me to eat a pussy out. There would be no way to hell I’d do that. And unlike other subs, I did what I wanted and would rather get punished than do something I didn’t want.
“What is your safe word?” Some would ask when they saw me pull out my collar, leash, whip, and cuffs from my toy bag.
Seventy percent of the guys I met in person had never done this. I liked to pick the ones who were pervs in mind but not in body. Young but ready to explore, ready to fuck a milf and play with a cougar.
I was on their bucket list — a dream come true. They would never get a chance like ever again. And likewise, they were mine.
I won’t deny I feel the grains of sand slipping through my fingers. Every day seemed to stretch shorter. There was no other time. If I had to conquer many to feed their needs and mine in only a week, that might be the only way. Why wait for pleasure when you can count your chicks right now? We have already waited a year to meet in Seoul.
There was no better day than today. Who knew what tomorrow brought? Happiness should be wrought in our own hands, and fuck what people say. Why? Despite our age, we were adults in this room.