The Dawn of My Golden Era
reverendhornibastard
Depraved Deacon of Degeneracy
The first time I moved to Southeast Asia I had no inkling of what was in store for me. I found myself immediately surrounded by more sexy, young Asian women than I had time to shake my night stick at. For a variety of reasons, these Asian ladies were desperate to find a western boyfriend or, better yet, a husband.
I was like a kid living in a well-stocked candy shop.
Over the next two years I went on love safaris at least 4 nights a week. I always returned to my apartment with at least one, sometimes two, hot young Asian women who were ready and willing to let me glue them to my bedsheets.
This, you may think, was my “Golden Era.”
It wasn’t.
Even though I probably fucked more than enough Asian cuties to fill a Boeing 737 during those first 24 months, I found myself increasingly bored and lonely.
Even though I still had a wife back in America, I yearned for a satisfying, condom-free relationship with an Asian lady I could trust and respect. I desperately wanted to find a smart, funny, tolerant, courageous woman with an enchanting brown tropical Asian ass.
Then one day I realized that during the entirety of the last two years I had already been living with such a woman. She was my smart, funny, tolerant, courageous and highly trustworthy live-in cook and housekeeper, Anisa (not her real name).
Anisa was 18 years old and rail thin when I first hired her. Rather than have her spend any of her salary for her food and personal needs, I had her accompany me on grocery runs and instructed her to select what she would prepare for my meals as everything she wanted to prepare for herself. I also told Anisa to buy all of her personal needs (toiletries, clothing etc.) at my expense.
Anisa was very frugal and never abused my generosity.
During the 24 months she had worked as my live-in cook and housekeeper Anisa had already proven herself to be a fun and delightful friend and companion. She was a smart, cheerful, funny, tolerant, courageous woman.
But something about her had changed. In the last two years. Anisa had eaten better than she had ever eaten in her life. In the process she had acquired some fascinating new bumps and curves. She had blossomed from a skinny adolescent into a beautiful and highly desirable young Asian woman.
But I couldn’t tell Anisa how I had come to feel about her. She was a nice, respectable woman. She had witnessed the incessant stream of questionable women who came to spend a night in my bed. A nice girl like her could not possibly be interested in a man like me. I didn’t want Anisa to feel any pressure to go the extra mile just because her boss had now taken a fancy to her.
Then one night, wine struck.
As she was cleaning up after my evening meal Anisa asked why Americans often drank wine with dinner. I realized that she had probably never tasted wine so I encouraged her to take a sip.
I remember that it was an expensive French Burgundy.
After the initial surprise, she decided it was actually pretty good. She remarked upon its smooth taste.
I encouraged her to pour herself a glass and sit and talk with me.
I had no ulterior motives. I swear!
She accepted my offer, sitting at my fancy dining room table in her shabby, ill-fitting clothes drinking her first glass of wine.
But Anisa was unaccustomed to the wine or to its effects. Before she had finished her glass of wine she started telling me how she had fallen in love with me when she first interviewed for the job as my cook and housekeeper. She said she thought about me every night as she lay in her bed in the servant’s quarters.
I was stunned at her admissions and in the irony of our situation.
I confessed my feelings for her.
Anisa initially refused to believe me, but within a few minutes we both burst into flames.
We had a lot of fun together that night but I didn’t make love to her. I suspected she was a virgin and it didn’t seem right for this delicate young woman to be deflowered by a man like me just because she’d drunk her first glass of wine.
The next day when I returned from the office and she was fully sober I told her again how I felt about her. Anisa confirmed her feelings for me.
We made love 8 times that night.
Both of our lives were changed forever.
Anisa vacated the servant’s quarters and relocated into the master bedroom.
Although I was now having sex with only one woman instead of with a steady stream of unfamiliar women, I was having the best sex of my life - unprotected sex with a woman I was falling more and more in love with every day.
THIS was only the beginning of my “Golden Era!”
It soon became much, much better.
Our kids are in the pool right now.
I’m suddenly in the mood to eat Anisa’s pussy and then have Pink Floyd punch her repeatedly in the cervix.
I was like a kid living in a well-stocked candy shop.
Over the next two years I went on love safaris at least 4 nights a week. I always returned to my apartment with at least one, sometimes two, hot young Asian women who were ready and willing to let me glue them to my bedsheets.
This, you may think, was my “Golden Era.”
It wasn’t.
Even though I probably fucked more than enough Asian cuties to fill a Boeing 737 during those first 24 months, I found myself increasingly bored and lonely.
Even though I still had a wife back in America, I yearned for a satisfying, condom-free relationship with an Asian lady I could trust and respect. I desperately wanted to find a smart, funny, tolerant, courageous woman with an enchanting brown tropical Asian ass.
Then one day I realized that during the entirety of the last two years I had already been living with such a woman. She was my smart, funny, tolerant, courageous and highly trustworthy live-in cook and housekeeper, Anisa (not her real name).
Anisa was 18 years old and rail thin when I first hired her. Rather than have her spend any of her salary for her food and personal needs, I had her accompany me on grocery runs and instructed her to select what she would prepare for my meals as everything she wanted to prepare for herself. I also told Anisa to buy all of her personal needs (toiletries, clothing etc.) at my expense.
Anisa was very frugal and never abused my generosity.
During the 24 months she had worked as my live-in cook and housekeeper Anisa had already proven herself to be a fun and delightful friend and companion. She was a smart, cheerful, funny, tolerant, courageous woman.
But something about her had changed. In the last two years. Anisa had eaten better than she had ever eaten in her life. In the process she had acquired some fascinating new bumps and curves. She had blossomed from a skinny adolescent into a beautiful and highly desirable young Asian woman.
But I couldn’t tell Anisa how I had come to feel about her. She was a nice, respectable woman. She had witnessed the incessant stream of questionable women who came to spend a night in my bed. A nice girl like her could not possibly be interested in a man like me. I didn’t want Anisa to feel any pressure to go the extra mile just because her boss had now taken a fancy to her.
Then one night, wine struck.
As she was cleaning up after my evening meal Anisa asked why Americans often drank wine with dinner. I realized that she had probably never tasted wine so I encouraged her to take a sip.
I remember that it was an expensive French Burgundy.
After the initial surprise, she decided it was actually pretty good. She remarked upon its smooth taste.
I encouraged her to pour herself a glass and sit and talk with me.
I had no ulterior motives. I swear!
She accepted my offer, sitting at my fancy dining room table in her shabby, ill-fitting clothes drinking her first glass of wine.
But Anisa was unaccustomed to the wine or to its effects. Before she had finished her glass of wine she started telling me how she had fallen in love with me when she first interviewed for the job as my cook and housekeeper. She said she thought about me every night as she lay in her bed in the servant’s quarters.
I was stunned at her admissions and in the irony of our situation.
I confessed my feelings for her.
Anisa initially refused to believe me, but within a few minutes we both burst into flames.
We had a lot of fun together that night but I didn’t make love to her. I suspected she was a virgin and it didn’t seem right for this delicate young woman to be deflowered by a man like me just because she’d drunk her first glass of wine.
The next day when I returned from the office and she was fully sober I told her again how I felt about her. Anisa confirmed her feelings for me.
We made love 8 times that night.
Both of our lives were changed forever.
Anisa vacated the servant’s quarters and relocated into the master bedroom.
Although I was now having sex with only one woman instead of with a steady stream of unfamiliar women, I was having the best sex of my life - unprotected sex with a woman I was falling more and more in love with every day.
THIS was only the beginning of my “Golden Era!”
It soon became much, much better.
Our kids are in the pool right now.
I’m suddenly in the mood to eat Anisa’s pussy and then have Pink Floyd punch her repeatedly in the cervix.
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18 comments
Although I’ve dabbled with Japanese and Korean girls, the preponderance of my Asian experience is with Southeast Asian women, especially Indonesian and Thai.
I prefer their darker color and relative lack of body hair.
What's the age difference b/w you and your current Asian wife?
I had no children with my prior wives. My second wife already had a young son by a prior marriage when I met her. She moved in with me when her son was still shy of his third birthday. I participated in raising him.
To the best of my knowledge and belief, my twins with Mrs. Hornibastard #3 are my only children.
My current wife is easily young enough to be my daughter. She is 33 years younger than I am.
I think Groucho Marx hit the nail smack on the head when he said, “A man is only as old as the woman he feels!”
“..and love their skin tone”
Unlike automobiles that come available in a variety of exterior and interior colors, regardless of the woman’s exterior color, they are all a lovely shade of pink inside.
I have a strong preference for women with a fair amount of color to them.
Nothing drives me wild like a woman’s cute brown ass without any tan lines.
That said, I’ve seen, met and gotten juicy with some dynamite women who were mighty white.
As long as they don’t have freckles, I’m OK.
I don’t do freckles.
Thank you for the kind words. I’m a very lucky man.
We are traveling to Jakarta today. When I have time, I will assemble my recollections on some more outrageous and wonderful stuff that I did or that happened to me when I was struggling to grow up while I was middle aged.
My favorite new word is desploogination.
I did a google search for it and your TUSCL posts are the very top of the results.
I find that both amazing and hysterical!
But, for your information, “desploogination” is hardly a new word.
The earliest use of the modern word, “desploogination,” is found in the writings of the ancient Greek philosopher, Pythagoras, in describing how he released his frustrations after long nights trying to perfect the theorem which today bears his name!