Sex is the Best Way to Learn About Other Cultures. - Chapter 4.5 Female Perspective

“Alexis, could you help Daisuke here get his driver’s license?”

 

When I saw my best friend Emma after so long, bringing along an Asian man who looked like a wild man, I seriously thought she was pulling a prank.

Because Emma knew that I didn’t like Asians. I don’t mean to discriminate, but I hate the fact that we’re treated as “the same human beings” in today’s climate, and even though we’re all equal, I’m sure Emma would agree that white people are better in both appearance and substance.

And now Emma was assigning me a student who was the most Asian-looking Asian man I’d ever seen.

Normally, I’d think this was her revenge?

 

“……Emma, ​​didn’t I tell you the other day to contact me beforehand if you’re coming?”

 

Since I couldn’t discern Emma’s intentions, I responded with a neutral remark. Emma had always appeared abruptly before me, demanded the impossible, then vanished. While this pattern had saved me on numerous occasions, I wished she’d refrain from encroaching on my professional boundaries.

Plus, this guy Emma brought over… he looks awful. He seems like he’d be popular as an actor to play cavemen in Hollywood movies, but he has a dull Asian face, short legs, and a stocky body, and I can’t imagine him as being human like us. Maybe a guy’s appearance doesn’t matter, but teaching him to drive means being alone with him in a small car. I’d like him to at least meet the minimum standards for appearance.

 

“Oh, that’s hardly an issue. You’re still bored, aren’t you? Then get Daisuke his license.”

 

Emma remained oblivious to my disgust, relentlessly pushing her demands. She’d always been this way, and I knew it well.

 

“I don’t know. If you want to take driving lessons, you go to the counter outside and pay the fee. Then a suitable instructor will teach you how to drive.”

 

Normally speaking, I have no obligation to teach this man how to drive. If he wants lessons, he should go to the counter, pay the fee, and be taught by a suitable instructor.

The fact that he’s not doing that means there must be some kind of hidden agenda.

This guy must be either a major problem or some kind of illegal immigrant.

That’s why I refuse Emma’s request.

I don’t want to help her and risk my job by getting involved.

 

“I wonder if it’s okay to say something like that?”

 

“W-What…?”

 

But Emma doesn’t back down. With a smug smile, she tries to push her demands through.

 

“I’m the one who got you this job, aren’t I? I’m the one who saved you from that bottom-of-the-barrel life. How dare you treat your savior like this?”

 

“That… That’s…”

 

When she said that, I couldn’t argue back. Emma was the one who pulled me out of my shitty delinquent life in South Carolina, and she’s also the one who introduced me to my current job. Emma is older than me, so our relationship leans more toward mentorship than friendship, but since she insists on being friends, I’ve let her position me as such.

Basically, I can’t stand up to her.

In our daily interactions, I’m usually the one with the casual attitude, but when it comes down to it, she always gets her way. It was the same when she reformed me – at her core, Emma is just that persuasive.

 

“My wish is simple. I want him to be able to drive to Maine himself. If that happens, I won’t say another word.”

 

At this point, Emma won’t hear a word of protest.

It’s not just about reform or work – I owe her so much beyond that, too. There’s no way I could refuse.

 

“Alright, Emma. So I just need to teach this monkey how to drive, right? You’ll pay for everything upfront, including testing fees. Of course, with a 20% tip.”

 

That said, this is business. I can accept the offer, but I won’t stand for being the only one losing out. I’ll need at least a little tip on top. After all, I’ll already be spending time with this Asian guy.

 

“Daisuke will pay for it. With his body.”

 

“What—?”

 

“Pay with his body?” Does that mean he’ll work cleaning the office or something?

That won’t put a single penny in my pocket.

 

“Don’t mess with me, Emma! Why should I work for free for this monkey?”

 

“It’s not a monkey, it’s Daisuke, Alex. Besides, he’s incredible. It’s been a while since you broke up with your boyfriend, right?”

 

“Huh?!”

 

Suddenly having my ex-boyfriend brought up makes me want to snap. Even Emma doesn’t have the right to pry into such personal matters.

I was about to scream at them and chase away the Asian man along with Emma, but in the next moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

 

“I love you, Daisuke. I’ll keep myself available to meet you anytime if you contact me.”

 

Emma threw herself passionately into the arms of the Asian man and kissed him. And didn’t she just say “I love you”?

You have an elite, handsome white husband, right?

 

“No. Save this for Alex.”

 

Then, in the next instant, Emma brazenly groped the man’s crotch.

That Emma… touching another man’s p3nis? An Asian man’s?

It was absolutely impossible, yet I couldn’t process what was happening.

 

“Well then, goodbye, Alex. I’ll be waiting for your thank-you call.”

 

Ignoring my stunned state, Emma left with her usual motherly smile.

Wait, you can’t just show me something so outrageous and leave!

At least explain the situation before you go!

 

“Were you having an affair with Emma?”

 

Given our recent exchange, that’s the only explanation that makes sense.

An Asian man and Emma.

It’s hard to believe at first, but these two really do have that kind of relationship.

Yet the man shakes his head like a small animal. His body looks primitive, but is he actually scared of me?

 

“Right. A woman with such an ideal husband wouldn’t cheat. Besides, a pathetic Asian like you could never fvck a woman like Emma.”

 

There’s no way this timid monkey could ever have s3x with Emma. What she said was just a light joke, partly to get back at me for what happened before.

 

“I’m only taking this job because Emma, my benefactor, asked me to. But I’ll charge you forty percent extra. And don’t even think about paying with your body—that’s Emma’s joke. I’d rather die than accept that.”

 

Teaching this guy to drive and getting fucked by him? What a cruel joke.

I won’t work for less than what I’m worth.

I mean, I’m teaching a white guy Asian stuff. That’s more than enough reason to get paid properly.

 

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

 

“Do you have an SSN? You’re not trying to get a driver’s license with a tourist visa, are you?”

 

When I reluctantly began the driving instruction process, something about this guy bothered me.

He spoke English with a stutter, and his appearance screamed Asian. He didn’t look like someone who’d have a green card (permanent residency) at all.

 

“I don’t have an SSN. My visa is B-2.”

 

The expected answer hit me hard.

A tourist visa.

There’s no way to get a driver’s license without an SSN.

Yet this Asian guy wore an expression like he was asking, “What’s the problem?”

Now I understood why Emma had pushed him at me.

If the goal was simply to get him licensed, we could have sent him to South Carolina’s driving school.

But since he came here specifically, there must be a reason. Emma was asking me to somehow get a driver’s license for a man who shouldn’t be able to obtain one in the United States.

 

“Emma, this guy doesn’t even have an SSN. There’s no way he can get a driver’s license.”

 

Of course, I’m not the type to accept such an impossible request. I immediately called Emma to protest.

 

“No. You have to get Daisuke to get his license no matter what. He has to get to Maine on his own.’

 

But Emma remained unyielding. She demanded I break the law to grant an Asian man a driver’s license.

Then Emma’s tone grew even more severe.

 

“If you abandon Daisuke here, I’ll never forgive you. I won’t let you forget what you did to me.”

 

In an instant, the unpleasant memory resurfaced.

No, I know Emma herself suffered the most, but it made me bitterly regret my past sins anew.

 

“Take him to Maine. This is an order. If he can’t get a driver’s license, why don’t you get him a provisional license and ride with him to Maine?”

 

Emma was still angry.

Of course, she was. Even though he’d come to me first, I’d slept with her most beloved husband. And not just once, more than ten times.

This couldn’t be excused as youthful folly.

It didn’t matter that Emma’s husband was an elite, with both a handsome face and a fine physique.

I’d committed adultery with the husband of my former benefactor and been caught red-handed by the woman herself.

A memory I wanted to forget.

A memory I wished others would forget.

Even now, my dreams of s3x with Emma’s husband were always accompanied by overwhelming guilt. I couldn’t count how many times I’d gone to confession over this.

 

“…This is what you get for your own actions.”

 

By now, resignation was my only option.

Granting this man his driver’s license had become an unavoidable duty.

 

“I owe you nothing, but since Emma asked, I’ll issue a provisional license now. If we get caught, I’ll lose my job, but I’ve got no choice.”

 

To obtain a North Carolina driver’s license, several legal requirements must be met.

This man clearly didn’t satisfy any of them.

Still, I had obligations to fulfill. I needed to pay for the debt accumulated from indulging in forbidden pleasures with my benefactor husband, all while using guilt as my excuse.

 

“Let me be clear: you’ll take the written test properly. Each failed attempt costs $30, so failing just increases your burden.”

 

That said, I insisted on following the minimum procedures.

Driving involves human lives. We can’t allow people who don’t meet the necessary skill and knowledge standards to roam the roads.

But the results were…

 

“Are you really serious about getting your license…?”

 

The written test results were nearly a total wipeout.

The system was designed so that even random guessing should net you 50 points, yet he couldn’t even reach that.

Was he utterly clueless about driving? Or was he simply illiterate in English?

 

“At this rate, you’ll never get your provisional permit, no matter how long you wait. Pay the $30 for today’s test first. You’d better take all the practice exams next time.”

 

Rules are rules, so I demanded the $30 written test fee from the man.

Then, in a move that defied all reason, he claimed, “I have no money.”

 

“You’ve got some nerve, trying to get a driver’s license without a penny to your name. Were you planning to stiff me on the training fees, too?”

 

The silent, suspicious Asian man made me feel murderous. Trying to make me work for free was like declaring he didn’t value his own life.

 

“Why in the world would someone like you—an Asian—be hanging around with Emma? And why would a married woman like her go out of her way to send you all the way from South Carolina? Everything about this situation is just plain bizarre.”

 

To begin with, there’s absolutely no reason for Emma to associate with this kind of Asian person.

Even if it were a volunteer effort to help a troubled traveler, her altruism would be excessive. No matter how much Emma might espouse nun-like ideals, this level of charity toward an unknown foreigner is simply too much.

 

(Could she actually be having an affair?)

 

Seeing the Asian man’s unremarkable face and his wild, unkempt physique, I reconsider the unthinkable once more.

Then, foolishly, I imagine Emma having s3x with this man.

 

(No, that’s impossible.)

 

There’s no way Emma would have s3x with some dull Asian guy, and besides, she’s not the type to cheat on her husband.

 

“Well, Emma has always been a nice person, so maybe she wanted to help you when she saw how miserable you were, but now it’s all coming back to bite me.”

 

Though I knew Emma’s meddlesome nature had saved me before, I still found this annoying. I changed tactics and decided to pass the man’s written test for him. I’d answer the questions as his proxy and get him qualified.

Is this illegal?

No, it’s not.

I never intended to let some Asian guy get a driver’s license in the first place.

 

“Next is the driving lesson. Get ready to get in the car.”

 

I resolved to make the man abandon his driving ambitions entirely.

Through relentless, Sparta-like training, I’d convince him he had no talent for driving – that Asians simply weren’t meant to operate vehicles.

In the past, I refused to let a student obtain their driver’s license because I disliked them. Of course, this wasn’t due to mere personal bias; I knew beyond doubt that they would use a car for criminal activities.

I thoroughly broke them down until they abandoned any hope of getting licensed. Now I intend to replicate that outcome.

 

“Turn the key.”

 

I climbed into Emma’s car, which the boy had recently driven, and ordered him to start the engine. The engine roared to life with a terrible noise—the kind that suggests imminent breakdown. Not that it mattered to me.

 

“Drive around this area for now. Let me make this clear: if you drive even slightly dangerously, I’ll kill you.”

 

I instructed the man to drive around the area without teaching him the basics of driving. Students who know a lot about cars know how to shift gears, release the handbrake, and slowly take their foot off the brake.

However, beginners come in all shapes and sizes. There are plenty of students who don’t even know such basic things. The guy seemed to be one of those.

As expected, he started pressing the accelerator without shifting gears (in other words, still in park).

Naturally, the car didn’t move forward. The engine just kept increasing its revolutions.

 

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

 

I put on a performance that said, “You’re completely useless,” to mentally pressure the guy.

If he’d just scream and go back to Emma, that would be perfect. Even if Emma later complained, I could argue that the guy gave up on his own.

In fact, I never had any intention of letting this guy get his driver’s license in the first place.

 

“Shift gears!!”

 

I shout loudly, almost as if threatening him.

The car won’t move unless you shift gears.

Don’t you even know that?

I used that domineering attitude to mentally corner the man. He was clearly flustered, fumbling with the shift lever without even touching the brake pedal.

 

“Step on the brake!”

 

I gave the advice while rolling my eyes at this Asian guy. Even if he were just a regular student coming for driving lessons, I would have hated him.

 

“B-brake?”

 

He was learning the car’s mechanisms at two or three times slower than normal. Finally realizing he needed to press the brake pedal, he clumsily shifted into drive by imitation.

At that moment—

 

“Huh—?”

 

The car suddenly surged forward with terrifying force.

First came the intense G-force, and by the time I realized the vehicle was moving, it had already happened in the blink of an eye.

 

“Stop immediately!”

 

Even though I shouted that command, the man panicked and couldn’t control the car that had suddenly accelerated. In just a second or two, it chose a course that would crash into the electric pole in front of him.

 

“Ta, Tasukete…” (H-help…)

 

“Get out of the way!”

 

I took the steering wheel from the man who’d started praying to gods or something, saving the car from the impending collision. Still, the stupid Asian guy kept his foot pinned to the accelerator, forcing me to operate the vehicle at full throttle while practically clinging to him, steering alone.

 

“Just take your foot off the gas pedal!!”

 

After repeatedly shouting at the confused man, I finally managed to get him to release the accelerator. From then on, I judged even giving brake instructions would be more dangerous, so I used engine braking alone to slow the car, forcing it to stop on the side of the road..

To be honest, I thought I was going to die.

I was the one who gave him careless instructions, but I never imagined he’d suddenly stomp on the accelerator with full force.

Even now, I’m reminded that this vehicle is a dangerous metal box that can take someone’s life. In the end, it was just luck that neither I nor the man died.

 

“…Huh?”

 

That’s why I was utterly dumbfounded by the sight before me.

The man’s crotch was clearly bulging.

The denim fabric of his jeans was strained upward, revealing that what lay beneath was far from normal.

Only then did I realize. In my desperate struggle to control the steering wheel, I’d been pressing my chest against the man’s shoulder and arm.

But that’s just how it should be.

When your life’s on the line, who cares about their chest getting pressed against someone?

Even if our chests ended up touching, it’s nothing compared to the car smashing into a wall or power pole at dozens of miles per hour.

Whether it’s a man or a woman, I don’t even notice. I probably wouldn’t even realize it. Truth be told, while I was desperately steering the wheel, I never once thought about where my chest was.

But this guy is different.

While putting my life in danger, while experiencing a near-death experience himself, he was at least focused enough on my chest pressing against his shoulder or arm to get aroused.

Is that even possible?

He was nearly dying, but he was thinking about my br3asts?

He was trying to kill me, but he was fantasizing about my chest and getting excited?

Was he imagining himself violating me?

The thought made a quiet anger begin to simmer inside me.

Not anger, exactly – a clear desire to kill.

If you want to feel that good, I’ll give you a proper “workout” with all my strength.

 

“Itai, itai, itai, itai!!” (Ow, ow, ow, ow!!)

 

I squeezed the man’s crotch with all my might, like a vice. Grabbing through his pants, I twisted with enough force to snap a twig, determined to crush his d1ck.

 

“S-stop! Stop! Alex-san!!”

 

Naturally, the man called for help. I’m a woman, so I don’t understand, but he seemed to be in so much pain that he was in tears. Serves you right.

 

“Don’t mess with me! You’re just an Asian guy and you’re trying to kill me!?”

 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please let go!”

 

“Shut up!! You’re a Jap and you’re giving me such a cheeky d1ck! “I’ll crush you so you’ll never be so cocky again!!”

 

I switched hands, holding his c0ck with both fists and squeezing even harder.

Partly to increase the pressure, but also because it was easier to grip with both hands.

 

(Isn’t this too thick?)

 

The thing inside the man’s pants was thicker than anything I’d ever experienced before. That’s why I had no choice but to grab it with both hands.

Not only that, but it was hard as a rock—not just a figure of speech—and far longer than I’d imagined. Is this really his d1ck?

 

(I can’t crush it at all…)

 

At first, I’d been determined to crush the man’s member completely.

I squeezed without holding back, even considering twisting it off.

But I couldn’t do it.

First, there was the thickness.

To crush something properly, you need enough space to wrap your fingers around it completely. But the man’s member was so thick that even both hands could only manage one and a half turns.

Trying to crush something like that with desperate force was impossible.

Then there was the hardness.

The man’s member was as hard as stone.

Since it’s part of the human body, you’d expect it to have some elasticity when you tense up, but there’s not even a trace of it. It’s like squeezing a lump of inorganic matter—there’s absolutely no give whatsoever.

In fact, I almost thought he might have shoved a rock in there. But the searing heat burning through his pants proves this is undeniably part of his human anatomy.

When I desperately try to crush it, the futility becomes glaringly obvious.

If anything, I was reaching my limits, and I could feel my grip strength slowly weakening.

At this point, it feels more like I’m kneading dough than trying to crush anything.

Watching the man’s breathing grow rougher while I’m straining to subdue him, I can’t help but think, Are you kidding me?

He’s just Asian.

He’s trying to get pleasure from me.

He’s trying to make me submit with his insolent p3nis.

 

(There’s no way I’m going to let him do that.)

 

To lose to Asians? That was unacceptable.

After all the times I’ve looked down on him, being dominated in this way is unacceptable as an American and an Anglo-Saxon.

 

“I’ll make it clear to you the hierarchical relationship between white people and everyone else.”

 

I chose the path of making this man submit.

If crushing him physically proved impossible, I’d find another way to break him.

If whites were truly the superior race in every aspect, we couldn’t possibly lose in such a manner.

I unzipped the man’s pants, revealing his filthy c0ck straining against his bursting underwear.

In that moment, I realized just how dangerous my actions were.

 

(What the hell is this…?)

 

A man’s rod, exposed to the outside world. His p3nis.

I knew it was thicker and longer than a black man’s.

Given its stone-like hardness, I’d anticipated it would be rigidly erect, and I was prepared for the word “Strong” to leap into my mind as my first impression.

But the size, the shape, the angle…

When I took in all those aspects together, the impression I formed was that of a work of art.

That was just my impression of a c0ck.

And it was an Asian man, after all.

Yet the majesty or presence of this man’s p3nis had already reached the level of sculpture or fine art.

The length of the shaft, the thickness from base to tip, the efficient protrusion of the glans, the glossy crown, even the pattern of veins—everything was the pinnacle of artistry I’d ever witnessed.

Whites are superior to Asians.

I had no intention of changing that belief.

But this man’s p3nis is a work of art that far transcends such a category.

Of course, this alone wouldn’t make me submit to him.

This man was not satisfied with having nearly killed me, and he has committed the grave sin of fantasizing about the feel of my br3asts.

Therefore, I needed to execute his punishment.

I need to make him experience for himself the fact that no matter what kind of p3nis he has, he cannot win against a white man.

 

“I’ll make you cum until your balls are empty. By then, it’ll be too late to cry or regret anything.”

 

“Ah! Ms. Alex?!”

 

I began stroking the entire length of his shaft using his own pre-cum.

All the men I’d made cum before.

I summoned every ounce of experience from those encounters to bring this guy to climax.

 

“Don’t come yet. I’ll make that c0ck of yours learn its place before I let you cum.”

 

“Ah, Ms. Alex—!”

 

I knew he was losing composure. My handjob was clearly driving him wild.

But that didn’t mean I was any more relaxed.

The thick, hot Asian c0ck.

Its length was more than sufficient, and the sheer virility of the male organ assaulted my senses.

The slick pre-cum reeked so strongly it made me dizzy, its texture unbelievably obscene.

Still, I didn’t cover my nose or wipe away the fluid. I just kept stroking, my hands coated in the sticky mess.

I stroked the man’s shaft, sniffing the stench from the tip of his glans. The moment I did, I realized a strong odor had numbed some part of my brain. For some reason, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the man’s glans. Even though continuing this way would result in semen splattering across my face, strangely, I didn’t feel like avoiding it.

 

“You’re like a wild animal.”

 

Without thinking, I pulled out the man’s hairy balls. Using my hands covered in pre-cum, I kneaded them, sighing at the heavy weight and unbelievable elasticity of his scrotum.

 

“No, don’t come yet. You must have a tremendous amount stored up in those balls, right?”

 

Sensing the man was about to ejaculate, I still forced him to endure the climax.

I suppose it was because I wanted to continue massaging this man’s shaft and balls for a little longer.

It’s not like I particularly enjoy this man’s thing or anything, but for some reason, I keep feeling this strange urge to keep touching him forever.

 

“I wold kill you if you don’t cum on my face. You know what will happen if you cum here, right?”

 

I deliberately lock onto his c0ck with my face while jerking him off in provocation.

I massage his balls and shaft with even more intensity, practically begging for him to shoot his load all over me.

This is training.

I tell myself that.

By controlling this Asian monkey’s ejaculation, I’m making him understand that all the power lies with me.

That’s why I’m jerking him off.

That’s why I’m massaging his balls.

 

“Ah! Ms. Alex! I’m gonna cum!”

 

The man’s desperate cry tells me he’s almost there. His already thick c0ck grows even thicker, his balls swell, and the impending climax is clear through my palms.

Despite the situation, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the man’s glans.

Even though this meant I’d be fully exposed to his Asian cum, I couldn’t look away from that formidable shaft. In fact, I’d even prepared myself to catch his ejaculation right on my face.

You want to cum, don’t you?

You want to shoot your load on my face, don’t you?

Then just let it all out.

You should just dump all that dirty semen from your Asian balls right onto a White face, shouldn’t you?

 

“Ah!!”

 

The man screamed at his limit. His already substantial balls swelled further, beginning the preliminary movements to release his seed.

At that moment, I felt my heart pound.

Though I was about to be sprayed with Asian cum, my heart raced as if I’d been waiting for this moment.

And then…

 

“Wow…”

 

For a moment, I stood transfixed by the sheer volume of white fluid that had been unhesitatingly released from his c0ck.

The thick, viscous substance struck me with such force that it coated my nose and lips in a single, heated mass. In an instant, my entire face was engulfed by the massive, steaming blob.

It was as if I were being drenched in pure semen.

Like a salmon spawning, he had flung his white seed across my face and into the valley of my chest.

It was like watching a lion ejaculate.

The climax of a king among beasts.

My whole body was marked with an intense smell that was incomparable to pre-cum. Despite this, I didn’t feel the slightest bit of discomfort at being covered in this man’s semen.

I had made him release it—or rather, he had allowed me to take it.

A feeling similar to gratitude welled up deep in my chest.

 

“How much are you spilling, you damn monkey…”

 

A sarcastic remark, but there was no malice behind it.

Though I called him a monkey, I waited until the very last drop of his ejaculation, letting it all bathe my chest.

What a monstrous climax.

How am I supposed to train this man after being drenched in that?

 

“…That’s enough for today.”

 

I’m certain staying longer would make me lose my mind.

With that conviction, I escaped the car, still reeking of his semen and intense masculine odor, without bothering to clean up.

What a mess.

I’d been putting off s3x for a while.

I hadn’t masturbated in years.

I’m sure as soon as I get home, I’ll remember this ejaculation and masturbate.

I’m going straight home today.

No washing my face.

I’m not going to wash my face or wipe the semen off my chest.

When I get home, I’ll spread this all over my body and masturbate vigorously..

That Emma sure introduced me to something special.

Introducing me to a man far better than her husband, as revenge for him cheating on her?

And why did it have to be an Asian? How tasteless.

I’d never dream of having s3x with such a man—yet now, that “student” could only be seen as a fvck partner to me.

If I were to be penetrated by something like that, I would never be myself. That should never happen.

 

“What the hell is that d1ck? There’s no way I’m not going to put that in!”

 

I kicked over a bucket on the roadside, cursing at no one in particular.

I wanted to turn around immediately and straddle that man right then and there.

But my White pride wouldn’t allow it, nor could I overcome the barrier between teacher and student.

So I needed to have s3x with that man as naturally as possible.

My pride meant nothing now.

I’d do whatever it takes to have s3x with that Asian Daisuke Sakagami.

I wasn’t going to ask him to do it, I was going to get him to clearly say that he wanted to, and then I was going to let myself be penetrated by that amazing thing.

What’s beyond that fucking… it must be—

Don’t dwell on it, Alex…

Imagining my ideal s3x makes me dizzy.

There’s no basis for it, but I feel that guy could make it happen.

With that wild animal of a c0ck and balls, he could probably conquer any White woman.

(Do I want him to conquer me?)

Holding my boiling head, I somehow manage to regain my composure.

It’s true that my lower body is throbbing.

It’s also true that I thought that man’s p3nis was beautiful.

But he’s Asian.

Would a White girl like me really have s3x with an Asian?

I spend the night in limbo, endlessly repeating this unanswerable question.

I won’t hide the fact that I came five times while masturbating during that time.

All I could think about while comforting myself was that Asian man’s incredibly strong p3nis.