I decided to try my hand at erotic fiction and started a fictional story that will be multiple chapters, but as I was writing it I thought what if people don’t like it? So for my first story, I am going to post a true story. I intended it to be just one chapter, but it got too long.I do get off topic a few times but feel it is needed to be written so people will get a better understanding of me, the situation I was in when the story takes place, why I did it and stepped way out of my comfort zone, and what I enjoy and don’t enjoy sexually.I do apologize that it will be a two-chapter story now. The story is based on the photos I have in an album on my profile. If you have not seen them yet, I am sorry but I moved them to a private folder now. The story takes place in April of this year, 2023.I was sitting in my office at work and enjoying the quiet and being alone so I could get more work done. It was a Wednesday afternoon and the college was on Spring Break. Even the other office and administration personnel were not in that day. Everyone took advantage of the week off.My name is Mei-Xiang, pronounced May -Shang but everyone calls me Mei. I am thirty-six and have been divorced for two and a half years and we had no children. I had known my husband since high school, he was two years ahead of me in school, but we did not start dating until I was twenty-six. I can’t even remember if we had even spoken to one another in high school. It was a private school and not a large public school so we just knew of each other.Honestly, I think he knew of me more than I knew of him because I had gotten my picture taken and published in the school newsletter and the local paper several times for winning golf tournaments. My husband and I were only married for five years before we got divorced.My ex is not a bad guy and we never cheated on each other and he was not abusive. While we could not seem to live together very well, we were totally compatible sexually. We had great sex. Even though we had been dating for about a year and a half before we got engaged and were engaged for another year, we didn’t know each other well enough to get married.My previous occupation required me to travel constantly. I was on the LPGA tour. I traveled extensively within the US during the season and then in Europe when I played for the Women’s European Golf Tour. While I was never on the Asian tour, I had been to Japan and South Korea to play. When I quit the tour, after finally realizing I was not as good as the top women golfers, we got married quickly. Then things fell apart.The first two years were good but after that, they were not. We seemed to never settle our arguments and just ended up having sex, sometimes angry sex, and the argument went unresolved. Not a healthy relationship. So we divorced amicably. We didn’t stay in touch; we saw no need to and wanted to move on with our lives. We didn’t have children so that made it much easier.After I left the Tour, I got a job at a local college in the city where I was born and grew up. It is a small, all-girl, private, prestigious, Liberal Arts College. I got a job working in the admissions office. I got the job for two reasons. One I am Chinese and speak and write Mandarin and Cantonese fluently and also because my mother is a professor at the college. I also got my BA degree in business from the college by going part-time. Since my mother was a professor there, I did not have to pay tuition and that was hard not to take advantage of.Why was my being Chinese and fluent in Mandarin and Cantonese important? Because the college I work at the student body has a high percentage of Chinese students. I don’t mean a higher number than other colleges or universities but a high percentage compared to students from other countries. The college’s entire student body is only on average about 700 students. Chinese students made up the majority of our foreign student body.Besides working in admissions I also acted as a liaison for the Chinese girls and helped them get adjusted to their four years in the US. I loved it even if sometimes it was difficult because the girls at times could have a hard time adjusting and comprehending how much freedom they had.It was also sometimes difficult when the young girls found out how much freedom they had and went rather wild. The majority of them were from families who had strong ties and were members of the communist party. It was considered an honor for their fathers to send them to college.Again you may ask yourself why? Chinese are very traditional people and even the communist are the same, of course, their traditions start when the communist party took control of China. It was an honor because of three sisters, the Soong sisters.Soong Ai-ling, Soong Mei-ling, and Soong Ch’ing-ling were sisters and were born into the richest family in China at the time. All three girls played a prominent role in Chinese politics and the Communist Party after the Communists took over China. Influencing their husbands, leaders of Nationalist China: Sun Yat Sen, Chiang Kai-shek, and H. H. Kung. All three men were the top leaders in the new Chinese communist country. The sisters used their positions of power and influence and ultimately changed the course of Chinese history. They all three attended and graduated from the college I worked for.As I was sitting at my desk in my office going over applications I kept thinking about another reason I decided to come to work on a Wednesday during the Spring break when I could be at home relaxing. I needed to get out of the house and keep my mind occupied with something else. I was horny. I had been for the past few days and I needed something to distract me from thinking about sex. It was too chilly outside to play golf for pleasure and unlike competitions where I had to play in bad weather. I had no errands to run, so I came to work.I had not had sex in over six months. Not since I ended the last and only relationship I was in since my divorce. I had started dating a black man, no not my first. He was a year older than me and I know it is so cliché to write this, but in him the cliché about black men and penis size was true. Was not like that with the first black man I dated. Not that I cared about penis size. It was just a shock when I first saw it and even after six months after our relationship ended and the number of times we had sex or I had his penis in Etlik Escort my mouth, I still can’t believe that thing fit inside me is why I mentioned it.We dated for a little over eight months and I thought we had something nice and special. I was starting to think more in terms of a long-term relationship with him but found out he was cheating on me. I ended the relationship.He didn’t seem to care when I broke up with him. I was not heartbroken but I was a little hurt and upset, but more embarrassed with myself for being a fool and not knowing he had been cheating on me during our entire relationship. Or maybe I was the one he was cheating with and he was in a relationship with the other girl?Before I go any further I want to explain that I am stepping way out of my comfort zone by writing this true story. I am not the type of woman who does around talking about or bragging about her sex life. That has always been a private thing for me. I am not the type of woman who has one-night stands or one-time-only sexual encounters. This was my first.Even joining Lush and posting the photos I posted and the few people I have chatted with are stepping way outside my comfort zone.I am rather a shy person, not introverted, I enjoy being around people and in crowds. I just can be shy with someone until I know them better and then I will open up more. Once you do get to know me; I can be rather annoying by talking too much.Being shy does not mean that I don’t enjoy sex. I am a very sexual and sensual person. I love sex! Sex is great! I am not into the kinky stuff, however. I do only four kinky things sexually and most people would not even consider them kinky at all.Being as horny as I had been for the past three or four days I even thought about calling the black man I was dating just to hook up with him for a night to satisfy my needs, but I didn’t. That would not have been a good idea. I could have masturbated to satisfy my desires, but I was not into masturbating much at all to relieve my sexual tension.That does not mean I never masturbated, I did; but to me, masturbation was more of a stress reliever and not something I did to relieve my sexual frustrations. When I was playing on the Tour I was under a lot of stress to win or at least finish in the top ten and I masturbated quite often then to help relieve it.Some of the women drink, some do drugs, some go out for a night on the town, some have random sexual hook-ups with different men or women, some gamble, some fight, and some do other things to relieve stress. I masturbated.Some players I knew on Tour had sex to relieve stress. I won’t give names because if people follow the LPGA they would know who I was talking about, but I knew several of the girls that would have random hookups constantly to relieve stress. Married, had a boyfriend, or were engaged, they didn’t care. Sex was their stress relief.Sex could be my stress relief also, and it was when I had the opportunity to have sex. I didn’t get that a lot because my husband, then my boyfriend and later fiancée rarely traveled with me due to his job and I didn’t do random hookups. So I masturbated.One particular example is rather humorous. At least now it is; when it happened it was not and it took me at least a year to find humor in it.I was playing on the Ladies European Tour and we were in Ireland playing the Women’s Irish Open at Portmarnock Golf Club in Dublin. It is a links-style course and I hate link-style courses. Due to their openness and lack of trees, they look easy but they are far from it. I won’t go into detail about the reasons why I don’t like them. I have to agree with the great Bobby Jones when he had his first experience on a link-style course from across the pond when he first played Old Course at St. Andrews, the Grand Ole Lady. The oldest golf course in the world.He played so poorly that he picked up his ball on the 11th hole and walked off the course. Later he expressed how much he hated the prestigious course. But unlike Bobby Jones, who went on to win The British Open at St. Andrews the next year, I never played well on link-style courses.I played exceptionally well the first two days, which was surprising, and was in the top ten. I had hopes that I could even finish in the top ten. That would have been great for my career and finically as well. Not only would the amount of money I would get from the purse be substantial but it would also help with endorsement deals. I had endorsements, but if I finished in the top ten a new endorsement contract would be more than I was already receiving. Then the third day of play it all fell apart.I was doing well on the first three holes. I had made a par, a birdie, and another par. On the fourth hole, I hit a nice tee shot but my second shot into the green ended up in the bunker. Those damn pothole bunkers they had! More like deep bomb craters! You couldn’t even see over the lip of them they were so deep. I hit a nice shot out of the bunker and my ball landed five feet from the hole and I would have a nice easy putt for par. Getting the ball out of the bunker had seemed easy. Getting myself out was a different story.As I was climbing out of the bunker, I slipped and fell back into it. No, I didn’t fall back into it. I did a backward summersault into the bunker! Embarrassed, I brushed the sand off of me, started to climb out, slipped again, and rolled back to the bottom of the bunker. I slipped a third time and again rolled to the bottom of the bunker. The gallery was laughing at me and so were my three playing partners and even my caddy. Finally, my caddy held out the bunker rake and pulled me out. I was humiliated and lost my concentration.I ended up missing that easy five-foot putt and even missed the next one. I then imploded that day and things got worse from there. I ended up ten over for the day and dropped not only out of the top ten but out of the top twenty. I felt worse than Greg Norman at the 1996 Masters. Norman said after he blew the Master’s win that he must have drunk every bottle of liquor in his hotel suite. I am only an occasional, social drinker but I knew how he felt.To make matters worse, that night on ESPN Sports Center I made the blooper category. Millions of people saw me fall and roll down into that bunker not once, but three times! I was so stressed that I screamed aloud in my hotel room. Keçiören Escort I need something to relieve my stress so I must have masturbated five times that night.It didn’t help, the next day was worse. Some of the other women had found a photo of me online that a photographer had shot. It was one of me after my first tumble back into the bunker. How did I know it was not the first? My photo was a perfect shot of me tumbling backward, my short golf skirt was up over my waist. I had been wearing thongs that day, as I always did when I played, and they and the built-in underlining of the skirt wedged into my butt crack and my pussy and gave me a small camel toe. The wedgie didn’t happen until after the first time I tumbled down. It was humiliating.I didn’t wear thongs to be sexy, I wore them for comfort. I didn’t wear them all the time but they were more comfortable to wear than other types of panties when wearing skinny jeans, or tight shorts or pants and they didn’t give embarrassing panty lines.I wore them when I played golf because there was a lot of walking and the thongs didn’t bunch up as other panties did. It was not very attractive having to occasionally dig underwear out of your butt crack in front of hundreds of people.Golf is not an easy game and a game of high concentration and once you lose and start making mental mistakes it’s almost impossible to recover.I played worse on the last day and ended up tied for forty-third in the tournament.So here I was at work on a day off and trying to get my mind off of sex and it was not helping. All I could seem to think about was my previous relationship and his, yes I am going to say it, big black cock, or the great sex I used to have with my now ex-husband, who was a white man and didn’t have a big white cock but what he had the man damn sure knew how to use on me and would use it often.I was making photocopies outside of my office when the door to the area I worked in suddenly opened and it startled me. I recovered and smiled when I saw it was only Dwaine.Dwaine was nineteen and worked in maintenance while he was going to the local tech school to get his certification in heating and air repair. I had known the boy when he was sixteen and worked part-time in maintenance with his father, who got him the job. He did odd jobs around campus including some landscape work.Dwaine was a nice kid and very sweet and respectful. He seemed to like me a lot and would talk to me often when he came by the office to do work or drop off work orders, etc. The other women in the office said he had a crush on me, but I doubted it.The reason why I doubted it was because Dwaine was very good-looking and he worked at an all-girl college. Basically, he had a harem of girls at his disposal. It did not go unnoticed by me or others how a lot of the students flirted and some downright threw themselves at the boy ever since he came to work there at age sixteen.During the hot summer and fall days at the beginning of the school year and the hot spring days at the end of the school year, it was not uncommon to see some of the girls sunbathing on the roof of the Porter Hall dormitory in their bikinis. It was not uncommon to see them stand up and call out to and wave to Dwaine as he rode by shirtless on a riding lawn mower or was shirtless trimming the bushes next to the building as they “innocently” posed their young bodies for the boy to see.I was pretty sure the boy spent many days and nights in one girl or another’s dorm room or in their on-campus apartment. But that was their business, not mine. I was not their mother or his and what they did was none of my concern.Dwaine never flirted with me when we talked, just casual conversation. He would tell me I looked nice sometimes or compliment me on my clothes but that was it. I never flirted with him either. Not that I did not like flirting. I liked to flirt and found it harmless and fun. Dwaine was just too young to flirt with even if he was so good-looking. If he had been about ten years older, I would have flirted harmlessly with him and if he was fifteen years older I would have flirted with him less harmlessly hoping he would ask me on a date.The boy stood about six feet, maybe an inch taller. He had a nice body I did feel guilty about looking at when I saw him shirtless. It was not a chiseled, muscular physique, even though he did have prominent biceps and thick, muscular forearms. Dwaine had a more manual labor-type masculine body that was thick in his hairy chest and stomach but not at all fat. His stomach was thick but flat. I did tend to enjoy his hairy chest. I am attracted to masculine-looking and acting men and like a hairy chest on a man. Men who shave their chest and or body do nothing for me. Dwaine wore his light brown hair cut short but was styled to appear unkempt.“You startled me,” I told the boy and smiled at him. “What are you doing here? I thought everyone was taking the week off.”“Sadly not me. Someone has to be here in case the place catches fire,” the boy smiled at me and waved a clipboard he was holding at me, “It’s a little after three and I am on my way home. Just had to drop off these work orders?”“Is it that late?” I had not realized it was that late in the afternoon. Dwaine nodded. “I just came to do some work since everyone is gone and thought it would be a good time to catch up. I didn’t have any plans over the break anyway but to hang around my place and relax.”“Well you certainly look relaxed and comfortable,” he told me and I blushed as he chuckled at the way I was dressed.I was not dressed for anyone to see me. Now comes a part of writing a story I don’t like. Describing myself. The reason I don’t like it is that I don’t like to come off as vain or even narcissistic because I am neither of those things. I am rather humble about my looks. That is not to say I don’t think I am attractive or even go so far as to say I am pretty. I think I am and so do other people based on what I have heard them say about me or what they tell me.I am a third-generation Asian-American but prefer to just be referred to as an American. I don’t have any mixed race in my bloodline so you could say I am pure-blood Chinese, haha. While my family liked my ex-husband, they were disappointed I did not marry a Chinese man. I just am not attracted to Asian men. I am attracted to white Kızılay Escort and black men.While I do speak both Mandarin and Cantonese fluently and am told by people whose first language is one of those that I speak with very little of an American accent, I do not have a Chinese accent when I speak my first langue of English. I was born and raised in the Southern US and have a slight Southern accent. It’s not prominent or twangy but it is slightly there. I do drop my “Gs” at the end of words sometimes such as saying fixin’ instead of fixing or goin’ instead of going and I do say “y’all”.I am five feet eight inches tall, the tallest female in my family. Like all the women in my family, I have a slender build with not many curves to it. I do have slight hips but a small skinny somewhat flat butt. I think it’s a cute butt, just not very curvy. My breasts are small but nicely shaped and tipped with small, light brown areolas and pink nipples that become a darker pinkish red when they get erect and I get aroused.Don’t get me wrong, I am not ashamed of my body. I am not ashamed of my small breasts or skinny butt. I like my body and I think it’s a nice body and I do think it’s attractive. I was just trying my best to describe myself. There is only part of my body I get embarrassed about the first time someone sees it and wish it was different than it is.I guess now is a good time as any to mention what I am talking about since it will be in the story. I have what I consider an odd-looking pussy that personally don’t feel comfortable with people looking at, until I get more comfortable with them. It’s due to my inner labia, my pussy lips.I don’t have what some people crudely refer to as a fat pussy, but my inner pussy lips are large and a dark color whereas the rest of my pussy does not have a dark complexion to it. What makes it worse is the lips are not long, I don’t have a long pussy slit, but they are large and puffy and they and my clit hood protrude out from my pussy. My clit hood, while it is prominent, is not dark in color, but it is puffy also and it hides what I think is a larger-than-normal-sized clit. My clit is not very large or obscene looking, but larger than those of girls I have seen photos of.Yes, I have seen what other girls’ vaginas look like, not because it turns me on or because I am into porn, which I am neither of. I have seen them because of the way I feel about how my pussy looks and I wanted to compare to see what a more normal pussy looks like. I did that twice, looking at photos of other girls’ vaginas. The first was when I was seventeen after the first boy I had sex with commented on my labia and clit hood and clit.He was not saying anything mean about it, he found it unique he said and seemed quite interested and turned on by it I gathered by how he kept playing with it. My ex-husband, then just my boyfriend, was giving me oral sex one night and teased me about it also.He told me it looked like a Venus flytrap that was shut and sealed tight and how it would open up when aroused as it waited for more prey and exposed the pink inside of my sex. I did not like the metaphor of it being compared to a Venus flytrap and did not like the metaphor of how it would open up to wait for more prey as in a man’s penis was my pussy’s prey. I got off the bed, got dressed, and left his apartment. I didn’t speak to him for about three days after I was so mad.The second time I was looking at photos of other women’s vaginas was when I was sitting in a plastic surgeon’s office and seriously considering having my labia surgically altered to look more “normal”. I came very close but I didn’t because when I talked to my ex-husband about it he asked me not to.He told me it was sexy and he liked it and preferred it if I didn’t. We had only been married for about eight months and in that honeymoon stage and still all googoo gaga over one another so I listened to him. Besides, we were at the stage of our marriage where every time we just looked at one another we wanted to fuck, and if I had the surgery we would have to go without sex for a few months. Neither of us wanted that to happen.While I have never been with a man who thinks it’s repulsive as I think it is. I have been told by all four of my previous lovers, lovers as in people I have dated and considered my boyfriend or I was married to, tell me it’s sexy and they liked it. However, I am embarrassed by it and no one can convince me not to be even though they have tried. I get annoyed and sometimes angry when they do try to convince me.I dislike it so much that when I masturbate I rarely penetrate my pussy with my fingers. Just the thought of having to touch it is not appealing to me. Yes, I have been called weird because I feel that way, but that’s me.I have almond-shaped wide eyes that are black, black silky hair that is straight and I try and keep it so it comes down past my shoulders to my upper back. I typically wear it up but that day I just brushed it and left it alone after o got out of the shower. I have a nice smooth blemish-free alabaster complexion. I liked the shape of my face and my full lips. I have great lips! Ok go ahead and make your dirty comments now, I have heard them before. I don’t mind them.I mentioned I was not a vain person about my looks, but maybe I am about my lips. I love my lips and I like compliments on them even dirty comments about them when doing the sexual act some are thinking about as they read this. I will even exaggerate the visual of my lips when giving a blowjob and purse exaggeratedly as I lift my head and slide my mouth up a man’s shaft.That day I was dressed for comfort and was not wearing makeup and dressed in very casual clothes. I left the house not thinking anyone would see me. I was wearing a long black skirt that came down to my ankles that was made of thick cotton sweatpants material with a drawstring waist. This will be our little secret; I picked them up out of my dirty clothes hamper that morning. I was wearing an unfashionable white peasant-style blouse and black sweater combination. The blouse portion was more like a liner for the sweater.Even though it was April, it was still in the mid-sixties that day due to a cold snap we typically had in the spring in the south and I do not like being cold or chilly. Under the top, I was not wearing a bra. I did not need one that day. My small, firm round breasts didn’t need support and with the top I was wearing no one would be able to see anything anyway because it was slightly bulky. On my feet, I had on black nylon knee-high socks and pink cheaply made faux leather sandals with ankle straps. I know they didn’t match and wearing socks of any type with sandals was a major fashion faux pas, but they were comfortable.