“I’ll get even wetter if you slap me and spank me.”
Did you hear that quote in the past week? No? Of course not. You’ve never heard anything that cool.
But I did. I heard that from one of my Asians this week.
That’s right: one of my Asians.
Because this… was a week… of Asians.
If you read last week’s blog, you remember that I was ghosted by a Japanese chick, Tomomi, 33.
And then on Friday, I met two more Asian girls during a night out in Venice. They gave me the “Guess what type of Asian I am?” test, which I failed, which is suspicious because I’m kinda a pro at this.
“Are you sure you’re not Chinese?”
“Chinese heritage, but we are both from Australia.”
“So you’re Chinese.”
“No, we’re Australian.”
“How… did I not realize you were speaking to me in an Australian accent the whole time?”
A few days later, and most recently, I went out with a Vietnamese girl and—gasp—banged her on a Monday night.
And that’s a pretty big accolade, because ain’t shit ever happening on a Monday night.
But!
I can one-up that story with the events that transpired on Saturday night. Because Saturday night was…
KOREAN BBQ NIGHT
(*lightning strikes*)
WITH REAL NATIVE KOREANS
(*tsunami strikes*)
Before I begin that story… take a look at that shit. That’s four different Asian groups being represented in the span of a week.
Asians; always present in my life.
It’s a curse.
It’s a blessing.
I mean… it’s something.
It’s a fait accompli. Do you know what that is? No you don’t, because you’re an uneducated giraffe.
I spent Saturday day drinking with my sister at The Bungalow in Santa Monica, where it was crowded, sweaty, and I would have banged 96% of the girls there. Ya know what?—97% of the girls there. Let’s go nuts.
With the heat shining brightly overhead, both my sister and I started to get just a little too drunk and sloppy. Spilling all over ourselves and other people. Sharing the bathroom to piss, and then reemerging to a huge line of angry girls who were under the impression that we were banging in there. I had to ensure them all that she was my sister. That still didn’t convince anyone that we weren’t banging in there.
Whereas my sister would become too drunk to even hail an Uber back home, I, equally drunk, was just getting started. For I had a scheduled dinner to attend, with three Koreans that I had met a week earlier. I would be taking them to my favorite Korean BBQ place in the heart of Koreatown, called Choi Ga Nei.
The Koreans (two girls and a guy) were currently on a type of student exchange program. The program lasted only two months, and they were two weeks away from finishing and having to return to Korea.
Two weeks. Hmm… One of these girls must be trying to get a farewell fuck on her way out of here, right?
Only one of the two girls spoke English well. Which was fine, since she was the hot one. The other one was cute, but I was aiming for hot. She even had curves, something you don’t see in very many Korean girls.
She showed up to dinner wearing, not like yoga pants, but they’re a little thicker than yoga pants, and you can still see a good outline of the butt? What are those things called? Yeah, one of those things.
As you do at an all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ restaurant, we put in a big order for bulgolgi and other types of meat, plus the obligatory bottles of soju and beer. The cute girl makes everyone a beer/soju concoction which is called somek. After a few shots of these, everyone starts loosening up.
It’s time to get to know my audience.
“So who here has dated a foreigner?”
It’s only me and my girl of interest raising her hands. Let’s give her a name. How about “Boo”?
It turns out, Boo has dated a variety of foreign dudes. and even has a thing for Latin guys. I’d never met a Korean girl, let alone an Asian girl, that had a thing for Latinos. So she seems like the more adventurous one at the table. Open-minded. Plus, she is drinking like a champ.
We kill our first bottle of soju in no time. And then Cute Girl writes a positive review of the restaurant on Yelp and they give us a free bottle. We start putting a dent in that, even faster than the first one . And now everyone is getting the Asian glow. Even me.
Watching the Korean guy next to me pantomiming that his insides are going to explode if he eats any more meat, I start throwing out ideas for the next bar we should go hit. My suggestions are… not met with the enthusiasm I’m expecting.
“What’s wrong? Don’t trust my selection? I brought you here, didn’t I? Tell me this meat isn’t the greatest.”
“It… is just as good as the meat in Korea,” Boo says, offering me the praise I was fishing around for. “But we have to get home. We have a curfew at the dorm we stay at.”
“A curfew? Fuck. That. You are in America for two more weeks. What are they going to do, send you back to Korea two weeks early for staying out one night?” I look to the Korean guy to back me up here. “Who cares about the rules, am I right?”
He doesn’t speak English so Boo answers for him. “He always follows the rules,” she says plainly.
“Well good for him. He can go home, and… he can lie to the landlord for you. Or sign in your name. Whatever check-in you need to do, him and Cute Girl can cover for you.”
My logic is strong. I smell victory.
And then out of nowhere she changes her reason for needing to go back home.
“The thing is, tonight is one of our coworker’s birthday parties. Everyone we work with will be there, including our manager, and he’ll notice if I’m not there.”
“When is this birthday party taking place?”
“11 o’clock.”
This is all starting to sound like some MOTHERFUCKING BULLSHIT.
But I’m in it to win it. I keep pushing her to stay out, even after we leave the restaurant. And as we are crossing the intersection in front of the restaurant, Boo finally agrees to stay out with me. But with a condition:
“I’ll stay out with you now, but I absolutely have to go back later for the party.”
It was 9 PM. Two hours to work that magic? Get it, boy.
We see her friends off, and I start thinking of all of the fun spots where I can take her. Terra Cotta? Gaam? I only really had time for one place. I had to choose wisely.
I settled on The Line Hotel. Two blocks away, and with an excellent rooftop. And there’s always a lively, fun crowd there.
…Except for this night, of course. The DJ wasn’t even set up. It felt like a weeknight, not a Saturday night. So right off the bat I’m like, “Oh this is turning out well.”
At least there was no wait at the bar. I had a Singha because, sometimes I like to pretend like I still live in Bangkok. And typically, on those Bangkok-themed nights, the theme is debauchery. This beer would act as a premonition for what happened next.
Boo and I took the elevators up to the second floor, where there is an huge open air deck with a bar enclosed in a big glass gazebo, a couple of ping pong tables, and a pool, which I had ever realize in my countless visits to this rooftop.
I walked over to the pool to investigate.
Boo sat down at one of the pool chairs, under a large black umbrella. I eventually took a seat at her side.
There was nobody up here. Nobody at the pool, nobody inside the gazebo, nobody to challenge to a game of ping pong, which was the bread and butter of this place. This was mental.
But there was also nobody up here. Which I understand, is just me repeating the same thing the words italicized, but I started to think about what I could get away with. If nobody ended up showing up, of course.
My arm was already around Boo. We looked at each other, the “look” was established, and we began making out hard. My lips moved freely around her face, and then down to her neck, and then around her bare nipples.
I paused briefly and looked to the left of the pool, where there were some big steel doors that looked like someone could easily pop out. There was music coming from the other side of it, making someone walking out seem even more likely. And then I looked to the right of the pool near the elevators that we came from. Another expectantly high-traffic area, yet I saw nobody.
And so I moved my hand down south on her body, and slid it right under her track pants (oh that’s what they’re called).
Boo didn’t shy away from my hand, but she stopped me to point out that she hadn’t shaved recently.
Recently? I had been with girls who hadn’t shaved their bushes ever. Do you think I cared that she had a little bush? Had she known the horrors that were the bushes that I had experienced in Japan?
I asked her if she knew of those horrors? She said, “No, but uh… okay fine.” She yielded, and I was able to get my full hand in there.
It was an arousing experience, but it wasn’t the most comfortable. We were still so low on the ground, and I wanted to be higher, so I could get a better angle for playing with her. Luckily there were other lawn chairs on the other side of the pool.
I picked Boo up, and carried her to the other chairs, which gave me the angle I desired. We lost our umbrella, but oh well.
My hand slipped right back inside her, and I knew that this was the opportune moment to comment on how wet she was (girls always like to hear that).
Her response?
The first line of this story:
“I’ll get even wetter if you slap me and spank me.”
I was in no way prepared or expecting to hear this.
This was my reality now. I was with a girl who liked pain. And I would need to inflict some pain to deliver pleasure.
But I couldn’t start slapping her right here by the pool. Nor anywhere in public. If someone saw me striking her in any way, nobody’s going to be like “Oh that guy definitely ISN’T beating that woman right there.”
“If you want to get slapped you are going to need to come to my house.”
I did spank her a bit though.
After a reasonably light spanking, I did another quick double check to make sure nobody was coming from my sides. Still nobody out there. This was excellent luck.
But then I looked in a direction I hadn’t looked before: up. As I did, I realized the entire hotel, 15 floors+ all have their window facing the pool below. Literally anyone that looked out of their hotel room window could have seen this horrific scene we were creating outside.
And at least one room did.
One single floor above us, in a room with the light on and the shades up, two guys and two girls stood glued to the window shamelessly staring at the two of us. I wasn’t sure how long they were there, but I am certain they saw Boo’s tits, her ass, probably her pussy, and definitely my cock.
Boo hadn’t noticed the voyeurs, and I didn’t want her to notice, because I didn’t want to stop. I merely wanted to change location.
“You don’t really want to go to that birthday party Boo. You want to do this! Back at my house. Where we can do anything. Where I can slap you, as hard as you’d like.”
“Darby, am going to the birthday party.”
This bitch.
“But, I’ll come to your house after. I just need to stop by the party and make an appearance. I’ll be at your house by midnight. I promise.”
It was the idealest of situations. Her leaving and coming back to meet me at home would allow me sufficient time to go into my bathroom and deposit a cosmic meat turd in my toilet. Because lord knows that I couldn’t put on a all-star performance with a sea of Korean BBQ meat sifting around inside me.
But what were the chances that she would actually come? This could all be a ruse.
It was a chance I was going to have to take.
She called a ride home, and I got in mine. Twenty minutes later I was back home. I shat, opened all of the windows in my house, opened a Negra Modelo, and started playing Nintendo. My mind gradually started moving away from the girl who probably wasn’t coming over.
20 minutes later my phone vibrates. It’s Boo. It’s a picture of her with birthday cake smeared all over her face. And unless I was reading this completely wrong, the cake frosting represented jizz—my jizz—which she seeked on her face in place of the birthday cake.
The accompanying text says “I’m going to clean this up and then I’ll be right over.”
I kinda couldn’t believe it. Up until she knocked on my door and I opened it. Then I knew it was going down.
Boo came dressed in a new outfit. It was like a dark grey, kind of one-piece outfit, with the legs cut extremely high. I assumed she was naked under it and I knew that it wouldn’t take long to find out.
We picked things back up on the couch, where I quickly made an effort to remove her from this pant suit thing.
I couldn’t figure it out though so I just kept biting at the straps, trying to bite her right out of the damn thing. Eventually, after some mild tearing of clothing, the straps came down around her shoulders, and her breasts were back in my mouth.
I pulled the pant suit down a little lower, unable to get her fully out of it, but low enough to get a hand down underground. When my hand made contact with her vagina, suddenly everything suddenly made sense.
That hair from an hour ago was gone. She had gone home to shave her vagina.
Well that just seemed to be the invitation my mouth was looking for to join the vagina party.
I went down on her, finally tearing her free from the shackles of that outfit. She accepted it with open arms, er, legs, and it wasn’t long before we switched roles and she was going down on me. And it wasn’t just one of those “doing it out of debt” blowjobs that women so often feel obligated to give after receiving oral pleasure themselves; each time she thrust her throat down over my dick, a gooey, slobbering noise accompanied it.
Just the way I like my blowies: loud and sloppy.
After about three minutes of this, I decided that it was time to graduate from the foreplay and consummate our lust.
I strapped up and went inside her.
I made sure to start things off slow. But now matter how slow I could possibly move, each deep thrust I employed on her seemed to be absolutely destroying her insides. Either that, or she loved it, and those “I’m being butchered” noises were her way of showing it. It had been years since I was with my last Korean girl, and I couldn’t quite remember the sounds they made. Granted, this wasn’t as startling as the crying sounds that Japanese girls emit during sex, but I certainly didn’t feel too good about myself.
In between her moans I could faintly hear the neighbor’s TV on the other side of my wall. Which meant that it was highly likely that he was hearing what was happening on this side of the wall. And it was an absolute certainty that him, the neighbor upstairs, and anyone walking by outside my apartment could hear what happened next:
A slap delivered clean across her face.
Boo had asked for it, and it was time to deliver. I raised my hand a second time high in the air, and she recoiled in fear. I froze, questioning whether or not this was what she really wanted.
And then she gave me that same “look” from earlier. The look of desire, of wanting to elevate things to another level.
“Please…” she managed to squeeze out from between clenched teeth.
I brought my hand down upon her one more time, this time harder than the last. She shrieked in pain, and I feared that I may have hit her too hard.
Until she turned to look back into my eyes, and from a deep state of arousal, she said, “Thank youuu…”
The slaps continued.
This is probably the point when anyone within 100 feet of my apartment assumed that I was committing a domestic assault case over here. Boo’s cries got louder and louder, up until she lost all control out of the sounds coming out of her mouth. It was like a mixture of Korean, English, crying, moaning, and a parade of alley cats hissing.
Eventually I spun her around and hit it doggy style, this time letting the flurry of slaps rain down on her ass. Her white porcelain skin became bright red with outlines of my hand. She managed to crank the volume even louder than before.
We fucked there on the couch for… well, longer than was needed to get our 10,000 thrusts on Fitbit that day. It seemed to never end. No matter how rough the sex got, she could handle everything I threw at her.
But it would have to end, of course. It would have to end in an eruption befitting of everything that proceeded it.
Boo asked for me to finish off in her mouth.
So with her laying on her back, mouth wide, ready and willing, I shot semen in the “general direction” of her mouth…
And it went all over her fucking face.
My knees wobbled, and I could barely stand. I observed the fine art below. Boo just stared up at me. I gave her a smile of appreciation, and she responded by gargling my jizz. Like just loudly making bubbles with it in her mouth.
And the lords rejoiced.
All I can say is, thank fuck that Boo is going back to Korea. I’m not sure just how sadistic and inhumane our sex would become.
Of course, I have to survive the weekend first. She’s got three days where she needs to be out of her dorm before she flies home. Being the, ahem, gentleman that I am, I offered to let her stay with me.
Oh boy. What the fuck am I getting myself into?
