6 – American Born Chinese – Part 2


She had changed from her conference clothes into some summery jumpsuit shorts, which showed off her femininely muscular legs.  I suspected she was a runner.  I walked behind her with Jason and Tareq and my eyes never left her ass as she bounced and skipped along like a little girl.

I thought back to my first burst of sexual aggressiveness.  I was at band camp…I know right?  On the first day, a foxy eighth  grade tuba player gave me her number.  I was put off by how forward she was.  I ended up with another girlfriend for a week; a “nicer” girl.  I dumped her after a week.  I couldn’t tell you why, but I remember her friend cursing me out for it.  She called me “chicken shit”.  But on the weekend I saw the foxy tuba player again.  She was walking away from me in tight sweatpants.  That’s when I became an ass man.  She had a perfect little ass, and I said to myself, “I want that ass”.  And I got it.

We fooled around in the bushes for the remainder of the camp. It was my first experience with a girl.   First 2nd and 3rd base.  First oral sex.  She blew me and I blew her. She tasted like body odor.  Until I blew another girl, I just assumed that was what it tasted like. One warm night outside the concert hall.  She jammed her hot wet tongue in my ear. It gave me an instant erection.  And this was my first experience with public fooling around. I kissed her tiny boobs under a tree in broad daylight.  I felt her up in the TV  lounge while other kids made out.  I received a blowjob in the bushes while someone peeped at us.  I received a blowjob a few yards away from an outdoor party in the cool grass with nothing but her long brown hair covering us. My camp counselor gave me the thumbs up while he walked passed us.  A teenage boy is pretty much cool with anything when a girl’s tongue is wrapped around his dick.

But I’ve never cared for blow jobs.  I’m a little overly circumcised.  Not a lot of sensitivity, which gives me endless longevity but it makes it hard for me to climax.  At the time, I just thought she was really bad at it.  I hope she didn’t feel too bad about it.  I know that she blew a couple of other guys the week before.  I’m sure it took all of 30 seconds for them.  I pressured her for sex, but she was not interested.  Her cherry was popped, but I didn’t know that nor did I know what that meant.   I went home with mono, and I suspect a few other guys did as well. Her last name was Horney.  I kid you not.  I looked her up once on MySpace.  I suspect I wasn’t the only camp chum to look her up.  She said that she didn’t remember me and that those years were painful ones which she didn’t like to relive.

As I’ve said, I have always been a different person out-of-town.  But here I was, married for 15 years, not a horny teenager anymore, experiencing strong sexual impulses towards a woman not my wife.  Getting bolder by the day.

I do not remember much of the evening, only that Julie and I hit it off.  She was fun and adventurous and passionate and I liked the way I felt when I was around her.  She was indeed a runner.  She ran through the streets of New York City’s Midtown.  And now she ran in San Francisco every morning before the conference.  She was single and not the kind of girl that could be easily pinned down for a long period of time.  And she loved jazz.

Tareq and I solidified our positions in this group of instructors.  It was clear that this wouldn’t be the only night out. We were on the list now.

The next day was more of the same.  We all planned to meet up after the conference, but first there was a mixer with free wine and food.  I don’t pass up free booze or free food, so I stopped in.  Tareq took off and promised to meet me with the rest of the gang.

As I drank and munched an hors d’oeuvre a tall, beautiful woman near my age approached me.  It was like a dream. Women never paid me attention that I knew of.  The only one that ever rang my bell was the girl at band camp.  All the others was me pursuing and occasionally lucking out.  But this woman came to me.  Her cool blue eyes never left mine as she walked to me with a glass of Chardonnay.

“I see you’ve found the food.  What are you eating?”  She had an accent.  European, but what?

“Uh yeah. I don’t know, but it’s  pretty tasty.  Wanna bite?”  I said, smiling boldly.

She was dressed elegantly, but casually in a cotton dress. She had short sandy blond hair and freckles on her face.    I glanced at her long legs.  They were unshaven.  It struck me poorly, and I’m not sure why.  I’d never seen a beautiful woman with hairy legs before.  I supposed that the rest of her must be hairy as well.  I didn’t expect it to bother me.  But why did I care?  She was beautiful, and I had her undivided attention.  I wondered if they were scratchy.

She was Dutch, and she was the CEO of a prominent English tech company.  She is powerful, I thought.  There was something about that that was both intimidating and a turn on.  I seemed to recall that Dutch women were very sexually open. And I certainly picked that up from her.  We chatted about our companies and our interests at the conference.  Then she made her move.

“So, Daniel,” she said, slyly. “I’m attending a private party this evening.  I’d like you to come with me.  I feel that we would get along very well together.”  Then she gave me a look of pure sex.  My first “eye fuck.”

At that very moment, Julie was at my arm, all smiles.  In front of me, I had a choice to make;  a choice, the likes of which I’d never encountered.  The hairy Dutch woman was practically a sure thing. Her body and words and eyes suggested that she was interested in a conference fling.  However, I had invested time and energy into Julie.  I felt that there could be a fling there, but maybe more. She had come first, after all.  And she shaved her legs.

I chose Julie.  When she stepped away for a moment, I spoke to the Dutch woman.

“Klara, I’m afraid I have plans tonight.  Thank you for the invitation.  I’m sure we would have gotten along well,” I said, smooth as glass.  Smoother than I’d been accustomed to being.

Who was this Daniel? Who could choose his female companion for the evening?

“Daniel?” Julie said, touching my arm.

“I need to change clothes into something a little nicer.  The restaurant we’re going to is a little dressier this.”

I immediately looked down at my clothes.

“No.  You’re good, just tuck in your shirt!” she said, cheerily. “Hey, I won’t be long.  Why don’t you come up with me?”

Her hotel was just around the block.  The whole way, I wondered what was coming next.  Did she just want a friend to chat with?  Or did she want more?  I thought back to the psychic on the pagan website.  She had said I would meet a woman.  Was this her?



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