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My first romantic encounter with a foreign woman began with
the idea that all men are lustful, as the saying goes, it's in a man's nature. Men are yang, women are yin. Neither yin nor yang can exist in isolation; only through harmony can life continue. In my personal opinion, unless there are exceptional circumstances or physiological reasons, most people, after trying forbidden fruit, will find themselves wanting more, becoming unable to stop as their skills improve and they explore more. Men, due to their physiological structure, are generally more prone to sexual desire than women, which is why men are sometimes called animals driven by their lower bodies. My first romantic encounter began after a long period of sexual repression following the taste of forbidden fruit, leading me to take the first step in seeking a romantic relationship. Actually, I have a strong aversion to romantic encounters without emotional connection; I feel that sex without prior emotional groundwork is a soulless, animalistic release of lust. Therefore, I like to search for people nearby, looking for those with similar values and whom I find pleasing to the eye. I also prefer to spend some time getting to know each other before engaging in physical and emotional intimacy, provided both parties are willing and there is a certain connection.
J, a white woman, was the first girl I searched for and chatted with on this platform. I chose a foreigner because they are generally more open, and also because in the same city, there are only so many fellow countrymen, making the social circle small, and the first date was bound to be awkward and hesitant. We first chatted on WeChat. J majored in education and often discussed the differences and advantages of education systems in our two countries. Coincidentally, J was an alumna of my university and a member of an international student exchange organization. Our first meeting was at a volunteer activity she invited me to participate in, helping people with disabilities. At our first meeting, J was a woman with a gentle smile and a slightly melancholic air, and a rather full-figured figure. During the volunteer activity, we enjoyed our conversations and felt comfortable with each other, without any awkwardness or distance.
Skipping over the period of getting to know each other, one Friday night, perhaps due to a long period without sex, I woke up abruptly in the middle of the night. Yes, it was a deep-seated hunger, like a fire, a feeling that every cell in my body was craving it. My genitals were incredibly engorged, a desire to break free from the constraints of my underwear. But after taking off my pants, the feeling only intensified. So, almost without thinking, I sent J a text message, asking, "Did you say it?" A few minutes later, J replied, "No, what's wrong?" I remember that at the time, I was trembling slightly, whether from hunger or nervousness from meeting someone for the first time, my throat felt dry. My emotional intelligence was severely compromised by desire, and I bluntly said, "I haven't had sex in so long, I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable and can't sleep. I want to have sex with you, are you willing?" The waiting time always felt long. I guess after five minutes, J replied. She was surprised that I suddenly said this to her and didn't know how to reply for a moment, hence the late reply. She had also not had sex for a while and wanted to, and was willing to, have sex with me. It was too late tonight, so we arranged to meet tomorrow afternoon. I immediately felt a sense of relief. I don't know if it was because I was looking forward to tomorrow or for some other reason, but I simply plunged my head into cold water to cool down and then fell into a deep sleep. The next day at noon, after I had given a good look at my Chinese cooking, J and I tacitly agreed not to say anything and just got straight to it. I felt that going straight to sex without any romance was unromantic, like having foreplay before sex, instead of just undressing and going in. That would make the woman uncomfortable, even disgusted or in pain. I poured us each a glass of red wine, and then we sat together on the sofa and chose a movie we both liked, enjoying the wine and the film. Halfway through the movie, we were both a little tipsy, sitting side by side, and the atmosphere in the room began to become ambiguous, filled with a pinkish hue. Perhaps it was because foreign women are more proactive, or perhaps J was less able to hold her liquor. J started by rubbing her feet against mine, from bottom to top, down to my legs and genitals. Then, with a flushed face from the intoxication, she sat closer to me, almost touching me, took a sip of wine, and, holding me close, poured the wine into my mouth. The wine-red liquid seemed to ignite a fire within me as well. I pulled her back, sucking on her delicate tongue as I drank the rest of the wine. Between breaths, I felt our body temperatures rising, and our kisses grew more intense, caressing each other's backs, legs, buttocks, and hair. The tighter the embrace, the more intense the kiss, the more I felt the constraint of our clothes and the desire to break free. Our bodies moved with our hearts; we kissed passionately, no longer content with just lips, conquering each other's foreheads, noses, eyes, ears, and necks, while our hands, in turn, caressed each other, silently removing the restraints from our bodies. When we finally met, the battlefield had unknowingly shifted to the bed. J, being a Caucasian woman, possessed naturally fair skin and a voluptuous body, naturally boasting a pair of enormous breasts, definitely at least a D cup. Greedily inhaling and licking J's large breasts, the occasional low moans and high-pitched sobs from J filled my ears, making my penis swell even more. After sucking, gently biting, and licking J's nipples and areolas, I lightly kissed my way down, my tongue sliding smoothly. Because Caucasians often trim and groom their pubic hair, my tongue traveled unimpeded, revealing J's pink, truly pink vulva, glistening with vaginal fluid and sunlight. Just a light touch of my tongue on her clearly protruding clitoris caused J to gasp loudly, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, her legs straightening and bending, seemingly wanting to accentuate her vulva for me to taste. Invited by a beautiful woman, I naturally used all my skills. I lightly licked her outer thighs, then her labia, circling her clitoris, sometimes lightly, sometimes heavily touching it. As J breathed heavily and softly, my tongue suddenly plunged into her vagina. Accompanied by J's high-pitched cries and her thrusting hips, my face was covered in J's semen. After what seemed like an eternity, J suddenly sat up, kissing and licking the semen on my face, while her hand played with my already swollen and slightly purplish-red penis. Then she pushed me down onto the bed, lowered her head, and began licking and swallowing my penis, while one hand stroked her own clitoris and vagina, occasionally licking and swallowing my testicles. Waves of tingling sensations washed over me, and I couldn't help but marvel at how skilled foreign women were at having fun, enjoying the sensation. Seemingly unable to satisfy herself any longer, J looked at me with a flushed face, continuing to play with my penis, while climbing onto the bed, licking her lips, and slowly sitting down until her vulva completely swallowed my penis. With almost simultaneous sighs of pleasure, I kissed J's breasts while fondling her enormous member, and J displayed the incredible flexibility and power of a Western woman's waist. We kissed passionately, caressed each other, and tried various positions, moving from one battlefield to another—the bedroom, the living room, the bathroom—until we were both utterly exhausted, then smiled contentedly and fell asleep in each other's arms.

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