Over the years, I've slept with hundreds of girls—Dinana deliberately got herself drunk and let me sleep with her.

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Living abroad, there are many nightclubs and bars, and lots of young girls, all voluptuous and slender, showing off their breasts and legs.
Work pressure is immense. Outside of work, if I don't chase girls, the pressure is hard to release, and I have nothing else to do. So, whenever I have a spare moment, I focus on women. The more women I sleep with, the more money I make; I have a built-in aura of success, and women naturally come to me. The only hardship is for my little brother.
In my spare time, I'll write down the hundreds of beautiful women I've slept with over the years. Many are stunning beauties. Mixed-race beauties from various countries. Government employees. Bank executives. Female students, high school students. Models. Teachers. Nurses. Department store clerks. The youngest is 14-15, most are 19-20, and some are 24-25.
Basically, I sleep with them wherever I go.

Today I'll talk about a girl named Diana. She's 19.
I met her at a massage parlor. At first glance, she was petite and pretty, with a great body, a slim waist, a flat and sexy abdomen, and smooth, well-proportioned thighs—not too big, not too small, and easily spread apart. She was all in one go. Big, bright eyes. A sweet, soft voice, and a cheerful laugh.
After the massage, I got up and deliberately asked her to hug me. She didn't resist and came over to hold me. Of course, I didn't touch her; it was mainly to put her at ease. Just a hug, right?
Then we chatted about where we liked to go, what we liked to eat. The little girl seemed happy, and even offered to take a selfie with me.
Then we added each other on our phones.

Nothing much progress happened. I was so busy with work that I completely forgot she existed.
One day, she suddenly said she'd introduce me to a new friend.
Even though we were in a state of ambiguous flirting, her introducing me to a girl presented me with a dilemma. Accepting her meant rejecting her.
But if I didn't accept, how could I bear to let a young girl spend a lonely night, with no one to satisfy her needs, letting her vaginal fluids flow in vain, and then having to wash the sheets?
I replied, "I'll treat you to dinner first."

That evening, we went to a South Korean restaurant. She brought a girlfriend—two women and one man—and ate South Korean barbecue and drank South Korean soju.
My girlfriends weren't as pretty as her, and I immediately lost interest. I was worried my little brother might be lonely tonight.
Unexpectedly, after a bottle of soju, she started hugging me, chatting and laughing. I hadn't even reacted yet.
The second bottle of soju arrived. She was already swaying wildly, whispering in my ear and rubbing against my shoulder.
I don't even remember how many bottles I drank. I picked up my glass, but she pressed my hand down, telling me not to drink. Was she afraid I'd get drunk?
But she herself downed another bottle in no time. This efficiency, this speed, what was going on?
I saw her face was flushed, her hands groping all over my body. She was repeating the same word five times and still couldn't get it right.
Clearly, the pretty girl was drunk. If I didn't know better, I wouldn't be a man. I returned her kisses. Immediately paid the bill, and helped her into the car. Target: bed.
We quickly drove back to my place. When we got to the lobby, she was unsteady on her feet, and I couldn't even hold her. I finally couldn't help but burst into laughter with joy. I took her ID from her bag to register her, and the guard quickly prepared a wheelchair and pushed her into my room.

She was already delirious, her eyes tightly closed, lying down. Her body was burning hot, radiating a captivating desire, her writhing body, her legs inadvertently opening towards me, enticing me to devour her into the softest abyss. Her short skirt could no longer conceal the wetness of her vulva.
Trembling heart, excited hands. She didn't resist as I caressed her at will. I held my breath, slowly pulling off her pretty little skirt, lifting her bra. She twisted, allowing me to easily unhook it, and then gently pulled down her panties. My
greedy eyes slid from top to bottom, from her breasts to her pubic hair. Afraid she would wake up and change her mind, I covered her upper body with the sheet, leaving only her waist and thighs exposed.
I took out my long-awaited penis and gently slid it into her already wet vulva, thrusting casually, riding her young body...

However, I wasn't in a good mood that day, not particularly sexually aroused. We didn't do it many times. After the first time, I felt tipsy and fell asleep.
Otherwise, repeatedly caressing those sexy thighs and flat stomach, repeatedly rubbing that tight little hole, would probably have made me retire early.
Later, I was still very busy and rarely contacted her. Occasionally, I'd see her and say hello.
One year, she rode in my car and told me that she used to like me.
But I was unmoved.

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Over the years, I've slept with hundreds of girls—Dinana deliberately got herself drunk and let me sleep with her.

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