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SirSpewalot
11 minutes ago
Bisexual Male, 57
0 miles · Walla Walla

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I like slower buildups and conversation to flesh out characters before sex, and then usually sex and more sex, and that's what I write. However, that doesn't seem to be what everyone wants to read; clearly my characters are boring as hell, kind of like their creator, I guess. smile
Well, my first blowjob was to myself, and of course I let myself come in my mouth! After all, that's what I'd been trying like a crazy man to do for a week or more. I swallowed too, though it made me a little queasy afterwards. After about the fourth time I sucked myself I had no trouble swallowing, and of course when I gave my first blowjob to another guy, he came like a flood and I swallowed every drop.
I have a foreign wife, or rather, since we live in her country, she has a foreign husband; I also had two foreign fiancees before that (one Korean, one Russian) and a few longer-term girlfriends from other countries and races. My first thought is, yes, cultural differences can be a big problem; the love and sex is the easy part, it's the fighting and disagreement styles, general expectations for living together, and questions of authority in various parts of the relationship that can get pretty hard. For example, Korean women are expected to run the household and control domestic finances; if you're not fully ready for that, it can blindside you. (Fortunately I has some idea about that going in, so that wasn't as big a problem when we lived together as many American men have had.) And do let's not discuss the ways she'd fight during quarrels.

Second, cultural practices can be a bit of a problem if you're not aware of them, but that's why there are libraries. Okay, that was just me being silly. Even if you know about their culture, that doesn't tell you how it is in actual life. For instance, I love kimchi and enjoyed helping my Korean ex make it at home, but if you don't like it, that can be massively distasteful. (Or cleaning squid. No problem for me, but some people might be totally squicked out by that, and squid is quite common in Korean food, yummy yummy squid, mmmm. [Wipes drool.]) Even small things like which meal of the day is the biggest or how often you're likely to talk with your family in a given culture can make one partner feel badly fed or make one of you feel like the other is clingy, the other like the first one is a cold fish. (For example, just to give an example in US culture I read about recently, white Americans of my background tend to visit their folks a couple times a year or so, maybe call once a month. Among many blacks, it's much more frequent. Probably not a big deal, but maybe the difference would end up being big in your relationship for some reason. Add in phone calls overseas, which are at least a lot cheaper now, and it can actually create conflict.)

And what about taking care of your health when you're sick? You might be surprised at all the traditional practices coming up then that seem utterly random to you. Get used to it--she'll take care of you the best she can, and that might seem very very odd to you in places. Just be ready to ask her what you should do for her when she gets sick. (And you *will* do the same for her when she's sick, right? Good man.)

Religious differences can be a problem too, even if you're notionally members of the same religion. My joke at the time was that Koreans are all shamanists at heart with very charismatic views of religion, it's just that 35% of them are shamans for Jesus. Korean Protestantism is very charismatic and evangelical (the Korean Catholics among my friends seem to be less like that), and I eventually broke off our engagement when she started speaking in tongues and laying on hands (yes, really), because that made it clear all our differences before then were never going to lessen. (Or, to be snide about it, I wasn't going to stick around for the rattlesnakes.) On the other hand, my wife also started out nominally Baptist but ended up happily, not very observantly Episcopalian, and we get along fine there. (My Russian fiancee was virtually an atheist though nominally Orthodox--it was mostly cultural for her--and we were very well-suited there. And in other ways as well, culturally speaking, but she eventually started having bad dreams in which her grandmother asked her why she was marrying me and she didn't have an answer, and we mutually broke off our engagement; she was on the rebound at the time when she fell for me, and is now happily married to her first love, whom she had been on the rebound from.)

Family could be a problem too, of course. In the case of my Korean ex, her parents were strongly opposed to the marriage; her mother told her, "Sure, fuck him all you want, all girls need that, but DO NOT MARRY HIM." (Because I was white, of course. Rather, because I wasn't Korean.) Of course, my ex was the stubbornest woman in Korea (and they might be the stubbornest nation on earth), so she would eventually have won out, but it would have been an epic struggle. On the other hand, my wife's family is wonderful. I went from having one sister I never really connected with to having her and four new sisters who are very fine people. I would probably not have had any problems with the Russian ex's family either because they were from the intelligentsia; a more traditional Russian family would have been a lot harder to get close to, I think, even for a super nice guy like me. (Ha. The only person who ever described me as super nice was me, and I was very drunk at the time.)

Anyway, cross-cultural marriages can be very difficult, but you can usually make them work. If possible, live together first, at least a year, seriously. That is, not just for the love and sex, but to see that you *can* live together. However, that might not be possible (local communities of fellow countrymen, for example, might make it impossible--my Korean ex lived with me but no other Koreans knew it for two years, which was an epic work of subterfuge given all her Korean friends), so have a long courtship. And finally, to end on a funny note, don't buy into those silly ideas that Korean women (Asian women more generally) are shrinking violets or doormats or passive or anything. That's just their expected public personas. They're actually like this, and often even meaner if you cross them:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cl4-StMGYAw&t=70s
I went to a science high school and was the valedictorian. I was mostly interested in graduating so I could get the hell out of high school, and except for my friends ignored what everyone else was doing and saying and lived in my own little world, and fortunately everyone else ignored me. In addition, I was in ROTC (that way I didn't have to shower with all the guys) and was respected as one of the three top marksmen in high school, which is weird to think about now. I also didn't date or anything, partly because I was too busy and had no money, partly because I was painfully shy. Man, college and then grad school were ever so much nicer.
I'm an Old School writer. I write my stories in cuneiform in Sumerian and then have scholars translate them for me. Unfortunately, most people who can read Sumerian are biblical scholars, so I usually have to find a new scholar every time I write a new story. I then wait until they publish the translations in obscure journals, get someone to scan them in and use OCR on them, and then upload the files.
After I hit puberty and such things were actually important, the first naked picture I had was an abandoned Playboy centerfold, Teri Welles, that I found in the strip of woods next to the creek on my way to school one morning. Hid it in my backpack and stashed it away carefully when I got home, and over the next month rubbed myself raw staring at it. I soon enough found Playboys with brunettes (I prefer dark hair in general), but that particular hair style of hers on a blonde still manages to turn my head.

The first written erotica I owned was in my first copy of Penthouse, the one with excerpts from the book "My First 500." I remember being confused at first in one of the stories when the man was already inside her and said he was going to come--wasn't he already there? Then I read the detailed description from the woman's point of view of him coming and thought, "Ah, so that's what you call it!" By sheer coincidence, about ten minutes after I figured that out and was close to my own first peak of the afternoon, Dolly Parton started singing "Here You Come Again" on the radio. I did in fact come during the song, and after I came I thought, "Well, that was funny," but also really sexy, so I brought myself off twice more before the hour was up. That was a weird day, yeah, and that song still gives me a little tingle when I hear it.

The first porn movie I saw was my junior year in high school, I think. A friend and I were at an out of town competition, so we got up the nerve to go to an adult theater; fortunately we looked old enough. We watched two movies, then had to leave because of curfew, but he had to go to the bathroom first. I went in soon after and soon we realized we were both in the stalls jacking off. It was embarrassing at first when we left the theater, but after a couple of minutes we just laughed at it.
I do wish more people had read my most recent story, The Default Option.

I write the kinds of stories I enjoy reading most, which tend to be on the long, wordy, and talky side with a slow build-up, and it's no skin off my nose that many people seem to skip them. Still, I'm very fond of this one. It was fun to write, for one thing, and had some good characters and decent humor in the mix.
I was in grad school and had fantasized about sucking cock off and on for years. Finally I decided I was going to do so before my next birthday. I advertised on an adult site for another bi-curious guy and finally found one who clicked with me in IM. We discussed it a couple of times--he mostly wanted to fuck a guy but wasn't sure about sucking someone, but I didn't care that much. We met for a beer and to trade our test results; he was a black man about my age, kind of fat, and when we got back to my apartment we undressed immediately and he was enormous, already hard and throbbing. Ten inches long, uncut, and big enough around that my thumb only barely touched the tip of my middle finger. I stroked him as he worked up the courage to play with me, and after he finally did, I got on my knees and licked the tip. He had a cock that actually widened toward the bottom, so there wasn't the flaring head I was expecting. Anyway, I worked him in as I swirled my tongue around him, and he lasted five minutes, long enough for me to work about four inches into my mouth. It was an incredible dream come true, feeling a massive cock in my mouth, with the velvety shaft around a rock-solid throbbing rod. I knew from my experiences sucking myself many years before what it was like in general, but that time I didn't have a back getting sore from the twisted position I had to get in to shove it into my mouth, so I could concentrate on everything. Above all, it was amazing knowing that the way he was moaning and bucking and rubbing my head and groaning as I stroked his shaft was all thanks to me and my hot little mouth. I held it there and just focused on feeling his cock as he got close, and I can still remember the feeling as it twitched and pulsed in my mouth and the first of a dozen or so spurts sprayed into the back of my throat. He said later the feeling of my throat around his cock as I swallowed was incredible.

He returned the favor--not so willingly--and when I finished he spat it out into a handkerchief. He was hard again so I let him take me on the floor, and the first ten minutes lasted forever and I felt like I was being torn apart, but I liked it soon enough and liked it even more returning the favor. After we washed up we 69ed, and he was much more laid back about it then. He said later that sucking cock was really gay, but after fucking a man and getting fucked by him, that wasn't an important consideration any more. smile

We met a couple of times a month for the next three months (by the second month I had managed to get him all the way into my throat, which was only a second or third for him), but then he got a girlfriend. Later they invited me to dinner a couple of times, supposedly because she wanted to meet all his friends, but on our third date I discovered it was actually because she wanted a threesome with lots of gay sex for her to watch, and she was getting to know me to make sure I would treat her respectfully (she was black and had had a couple of bad experiences with white men). We met off and on for a year or more, always the three of us, and I think I sucked his cock more times each time we met as a trio than we did when just the two of us met--she especially loved for me to fuck her while sucking him, and the other way around, and the circle-sucking was pretty incredible too. They weren't my last couple, but they still might be my favorite.
Hope nobody minds me answering here as a man. I enjoyed giving blowjobs back in my wild 30s, though I still preferred eating pussy. The times I had threesomes with couples were the best, since I could do both. I'm still amused by the thought that more than one man pumped into my mouth or throat about the same amount of cum I was pumping into his girlfriend or wife at the same time. (And I swallowed every time, proud to say, even that first time when it seemed like a gallon all at once.) But then I managed with difficulty to suck myself numerous times in my late teens and early 20s too (ah, the flexibility of youth), so by the time I started sucking other men I was eager to try.
I worked at one place that fucked all of us employees up the ass every pay day. Didn't use lube either.
Quote by Georgiagirl24
I heard a term the other day 'hitting the wall,' it's when a woman's looks start to fade from her teen and early twenties natural beauty. The article I was reading said it was like 30-35 years of age when most women 'hit the wall' and men start looking for younger women; unless their like older men, like 45 and above, then they'll like the thirtysomethings. I was just curious, do you think their is such a thing as a 'wall,' and is 30-35 the age when women 'hit it?' Btw, I'm only 24, not worried about it, just curious. I have older female cousins in the 30-35 age range, so just wondering.


Many men might think that way, starting to look for a younger woman when they hit their 30s, though oddly enough when I was 35 or a year each side of it I was involved at one point or another with women who were 37, 47, 40, 62, and 51 (the other two that year were also older than me by five years or so, but I don't know their ages for sure), and I was probably the happiest man in my whole circle of friends. (Good ol' grad school meat market.) I have almost always preferred women who were older than 30 (not necessarily older than me); the only time I was really taken with women in their 20s was when I was in high school (and of course they had absolutely no interest in me!). I have always been very attracted to women who are confident, elegant, smart, and mature, and once I hit 25 and became interesting and confident myself, it was like a door opened to finally having real success with women I admired. Just incredible.
I don't know the first R-rated movie I saw with my parents--might have been Alien. The first one I saw by myself was Caddyshack. It was also the first movie I saw with nudity, and as it was about the time I hit puberty, those scenes happened to be burned in my mind's eye for years afterwards. The second R-rated movie I saw in the theater by myself was Heavy Metal. Man, the things parents of that generation let their children see...
Since I'm a white man married to an Asian woman, I naturally think it's great.

On a more serious note, I have somewhat complicated thoughts on the matter. Speaking on a purely personal level, racial differences aren't that important to me--personal qualities like how a person carries himself or herself are much more important for catching my interest. Now, I'm not blind to racial differences, certainly. My high school was historically black, and so when I hit puberty most of the girls around me were black, and as a result a black woman who has certain traits or looks of the girls I had crushes on at the time can really turn my head. Moreover, I was very shy in high school and never dated any of them. When I discovered after high school that several of them had crushes on me in return and especially after a couple of them became my lovers, this meant that being the object of a black woman's romantic and sexual interest was...really sweet. It was like all the hot wet dreams of my dry adolescence coming true. Still, more of my lovers have been Asian than black and the majority have been white, so it's only a small part of my formative sexual history.

It is true that there are visual attractions to the differences in skin color (which in the other direction my wife finds a turn-on). In my experience the visual part often isn't that important in sex, but there have been times when a lover and I have been intoxicated by the difference. It's not something I'm ashamed of or embarrassed by, and when it happens it's a powerful mood. Similarly, the first man I had sex with was a black man as well-endowed as the stereotypes, so there's some visual paradise for me there too, but my white men were just as hot, visually speaking.

On the other hand, I've written three stories here in the interracial section inspired (pretty loosely) by happenings with some of my former lovers. For example, one woman with whom I had a one-night stand was a beautiful black woman, just drop-dead gorgeous, classy, and impeccably dressed, who really got off on our racial differences. It was very odd for me at the time--she was very vocal about it, which made me rather uneasy but also REALLY turned me on because of how wild it drove her; it was some of the most intense sex I have ever experienced. And naturally, when she had climaxed enough to get out of that mood, she was embarrassed as hell. (I still wish it had been longer than one night though, but at least I made her comfortable enough afterwards that she let me stay the night.) Racial differences are still pretty alive in American society, and I'd like to think I wrote effective stories about certain aspects of that divide.