The Chinese Granny Who Loved Males!

I love coitus a lot! And I mean a lot. It has been this way ever since my early teenage years, when I started masturbating extensively. Initially, my sexual fixation was on burly, hairy males, and I fantasized about how they would aggressively penetrate me, grunting and sweating and maintaining steady, angry almost eye contact, as I yelled and pulled their puffy nipples and bit their hairy shoulders and forearms.

But over the years, my taste for males widened so that by the time I was in my thirties, I found all males -- I mean without exception -- highly attractive and I was willing to engage them in coitus without any hesitation. And when I say "All males," I do mean "All males": Big or small, young or elderly, handsome or ugly, white, black, Asian, Hispanic, Arab, or whatever, with a large penis or a tiny one, polite or impolite: it didn't matter. If it was a male, I was excited and I was willing to immediately go to bed with them and open my legs wide and invite them to penetrate their penis into my wonderful vagina. (If only all those men around me knew that I was literally for the asking: that I would have said, 'Yes, you can have sex with immediately, for as long as you want, let's do it' -- how much joy could have been had by all. But I digress....)

Needless to say that in my years at University, I had a great deal of sex. I engaged mainly students, but also professors and administrators, as well as orderlies, cooks, janitors and others who helped run the university.

Now, let me assure you that I did not have the demeanor of a harlot or a young woman who was lustful and easy to have. I did not -- repeat, I did not -- have a reputation for "sleeping around" or for being, as Americans put it so bluntly and crudely, "slutty." On the contrary, I projected an image of shyness and bookishness (and I was bookish) and dressed very blandly, so that one could have easily thought that I was a virgin who barely thought about sex. But the reality was that I slept around a lot and in fact, I have no doubt that no girl had anywhere near the amount of sex that I had. It was a rare day when I didn't have sex, and at any given time, I would have an active relationship with half a dozen males.

Some of the young males wanted to have more than a sexual relationship with me, but I was adamant in my refusal to engage with them beyond sexuality. I did enjoy the company of males (this is a fact) and felt affection for many of my sexual partners, but I liked sex much more than I liked males as such, and so it was crucial for me to have it in the various flavors that I was enjoying by not confining myself to one partner. (The notion that I would have on "steady boyfriend" was strange and even a bit difficult for me to comprehend as such.)

(Having engaged in coitus with a few hundred males in my life, let me share this fact, since I am well positioned to make such statements: No two cocks are the same, and no two pairs of balls are the same. Every single cock has its look, its smell, its taste, and I would dare say its personality, and having seen hundreds of cocks over the years, I can now immediately tell what kind of a cock I am dealing with as soon as I see one. I consider the experience that gained about cocks and balls in college to be one of the most important experiences in my life -- one that has served me well, indeed).

After college, I continued to engage in relentless sex with males, and since I had chosen my career in academia, it was mainly with faculty that I engaged in human sexuality. Now, to ensure that I did not create problems in my department (Mathematics), I made sure that I never as much as flirted with anyone in the department. But when it came to other departments, I had coitus with almost all of the male faculty that I could entice to visit my bed. (I always insisted that the coitus sessions happened in my home and I insisted that all males who penetrated me wore black socks.)

It was during my third year teaching that I met and married my husband, Harry Wong, who was at the time a young assistant professor in Statics. He and the rest of the faculty were well aware that I was extremely active sexually, but that did not stop him from courting me and then asking for my hand. At first, I balked at the idea that I would confine myself to one man and so hesitated. But after we spoke and he assured me that I would be able to continue with my engagements, and that he was completely fine with my engaging in relentless fornication, I agreed.

And now, more than 40 years later, we are still married. I am 74 and my Harry is 76, and our sexual life has never been more satisfying. What is even more wonderful is that rather than be bothered by males visiting his home and engaging with his wife in coitus, Harry in fact enjoyed the experience and often attended the sessions, sitting in a corner, naked, masturbating with one hand while pinching one of his nipples with the other one, yelling the words "Sex!" and "This is my wife -- do help yourself".

The moral of the story is as follows: Be yourself and be truthful and open with your spouse, and make sure that you have sex and coitus a lot. It's very important, indeed.