My name is Nicole, and I came to America from China at age 19. I have all the usual complaints about my body, my ass is too big, my legs are too short, thighs too thick, boobs too small, but I could tell from the looks I got from guys men find me attractive. Other than that, I guess you could say I'm what you expect from an Asian girl - pale skin, long straight black hair, brown eyes.
I grew up in a very conservative Chinese family in China. The internet introduced me to America, and I learned English, and when the time was right I got accepted into an American college where I met and eventually married John, who is white. Back then, I thought he was sexy and adventurous and dangerous, but looking back I don't think he was much more sexually experienced than even I. We both found good jobs out of college and lived in a condo in a fairly nice building, our neighbors mostly people our age, both married and single. You didn't need to be rich to live there, but you needed a decent income.
I got laid off from my job and had a hard time finding a new one. We worried a bit about money, but my husband got a big promotion and that helped out. The trade-off was that he had to start travelling, and I'd be left alone. He didn't want me to return to work because he wanted to start a family, and figured I have to quit eventually anyway. However I still felt anxious not working. I actively looked for a job, but that could only fill in a few hours a day. The rest of the day I just sit around getting bored.
I started working out at a gym down the street to pass some time and get in shape. It's there that I met Mary, a very pretty blonde white woman who so happened to live in the same building I did. Mary had a strange job that allowed her to work mostly from her house and at her own hours. I learned it involved the internet, but that's all she would say. Regardless, she had most of her day free, and we became good friends. In many ways, she was my opposite - outgoing, confident, flirty, adventurous, and very much single. At first I thought this black guy at the gym was her boyfriend, they hug and kiss and giggle at one another like lovers, then a few days later I saw her standing close to another black man and he had his hand on her behind.
When I asked her about it, she laughed and said she was definitely unattached. What she said next blew my mind, it was a concept that never existed in my sheltered world. She said she had about 5 regular lovers, and it wasn't odd for her to have sex with 3 different men a week. She also said she only dated black men.
I was Chinese and married to a white man, so it would be hypocritical of me to question the interracial aspect, but I had to confront some of my own racially insensitive thinking. Mary seemed so smart and classy, dating black men seemed beneath her. I never even contemplated it when I was single, it seemed so taboo. And then there was the amount of men! Growing up, a woman who did those kinds of things would be called a slut, and shunned. You couldn't be seen with such a person or their bad reputation would rub off on you.
She asked me if I ever been with a black man, which I immediately replied, "No."
She smiled and said, "Honey, you better keep it that way because once you go black, you never go back."
I should have probably started distancing myself from her, our morals were just too incompatible. However I felt desperately alone, and she was the only friend I could see every day. I have to admit I did like her regardless, she made me laugh and there was never a dull moment with her. She knew I wasn't the quickest wit in the world and she never seemed to get frustrated when I didn't understand something and she was always patient with me.
I eventually put her moral failings out of mind and our friendship continued. The only difference now was she started talking more openly about her sexual experiences. We'd be on the treadmills and a black guy would walk in and she'd comment on his body and wonder what was in his pants. When she had been with someone since the last time we met she'd tell me all about it in detail.
One day we were over at her place and she pulled out a diary and handed it to me. I began to leaf through it. At first it seemed confusing until she explained it to me. She kept a running log of every one of her sexual experiences, the guy's name (it just said 'anon' if she didn't know), what positions, how big his penis was, how many times he came, and how much he ejaculated, whether she came or not, how big her orgasms were, and how many. As I thumbed through it I realized that this women had been having promiscuous sex since the day of her 18th birthday. Before that she was pure as the driven snow and never even thought about sex because that would upset moderators. If I counted up the encounters, there'd easily be hundreds, and only about half had a name next to it!
I asked her why she didn't mention their race since it seemed so important to her, and she said it would be redundant, since they all were black!
I was a married woman with a good upbringing. I knew I should have told her she needed professional help and stormed out of there and never spoke to her again, but I couldn't. At first I thought it was the fascination one feels that prevents your eyes from turning away from a car accident, but I realized it was more. I was genuinely baffled at how a woman would willingly put herself through all that. Then it occurred to me that she wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't pleasurable. It hit me like a bomb thinking how much pleasure she had in her life, and I realized the contrast with how little I had in mine.
Despite my shyness, our conversations started revolving around sex, or more particular, all that she got and how little I got. With sex on my mind so much, my husband sure benefited. After listening to one of Mary's stories I couldn't wait until he got home so I could drag him into the bedroom and have sex. If he recognized the change in my attitude towards sex I didn't know, he never mentioned it, probably afraid if he did I would stop.
As much as I loved him, the sex wasn't as fulfilling as Mary's descriptions. They worked him very hard at his job and he was always tired and I often wore him out. Growing up, if the subject of being a wife came up, it was always about the wife's job to satisfy her husband, the wife's sexual needs always seemed non-existent. The only yardstick I had for a sexually satisfied woman was Mary.
To make matters worse, he started being gone more often and for longer and longer durations. He said the travel wouldn't last forever, since he was the new area manager he had to get everything in order before he could settle down. Regardless, I found myself a lonely, bored, and increasingly horny housewife.
A few days before one of his weeklong trips, I talked to Mary about how I didn't think I'd be able to go that long without sex. She laughed and said maybe I needed a new friend, a big long black one. I scolded her saying I was a married woman and would never think of being unfaithful. She settled me down and said she meant the electric kind. I still was not sure what she meant. After our workout she took me to a sex shop and showed me the wide variety of dildoes and vibrators available. I had no idea where to begin, I didn't even know such things existed, and my bewilderment must have shown because Mary picked one out for me. She even paid for it, saying the first was on the house.
Before we parted ways that day, she handed me the sex toy she picked out. When I asked her what to do with it, she giggled and told me some things I'm going to have to figure out for myself. I went home and opened the box and blushed when I realized Mary had gotten me a life-like 7 inch vibrator, which was black as night. Feeling curious, I found some batteries, went to the bedroom and stripped. I got on the bed and within 5 minutes had figured it out, much to my delight. That first day I must have used that thing a good 6 or 7 hours, not stopping until Mary called me asking how I enjoyed my present. I got embarrassed and told her it was 'okay', but didn't tell her I was naked on the bed with my legs spread and that thing had been shoved up my pussy on high for over an hour.
