BUTLER
Black Butler
I loved watching them.
The way their hands moved up and down their pink cocks. Sometimes wet from pre-cum glistening like morning dew. Their nicely pale sculpted chests heaving as waves of ecstasy hit their bodies.
And it worked both ways.
I wore my Vicky S laced lingerie in blacks, reds, and greens, depending on my mood. A short silk robe tied with a sash. A light dash of makeup, natural lipstick and a fluff to my hair, giving an after bed-sex look and I was ready.
The ring of loading dots blinked as I waited. And then I was let into the arena. My left fingers eager to click on the “Stop” when I caught a glimpse of someone I didn’t want, and then it was back to “Start” again. The hunt was on, and the prize, a fistful of pleasure buds coursing through my body, and his.
And that was when I met him — the Black butler aka Cosplay guy.
He was hiding behind the screen. Meek like a doe afraid of headlights.
It was another day on Ome where I hunted for my fish. Two months since H said we could be open and I was having my morning sex play. I had Mondays to Wednesdays mornings from 8:30am to 10:30am because my time in the US v.s. Korea, meant some were still awake at 1:30am. And if I missed them, I would catch them awake later for their morning hards around 3pm my time.
This was a never-ending thirst. A drug of orgasms and the highs which made me want more. Most days, I was doing two and on good days, maybe three.
The irony was, Butler wasn’t wearing black and he wasn’t really a butler. In fact he was a chef, restaurant owner. He cooked and ran his own shop, and barely had time to rest. His only break was an off day one Tuesday in a whole month. Every day he sloughed away. His most popular dish was Kimchi bokkeumbap 김치볶음밥 and pasta. His business was so successful he had people working for him.
He was twenty-three. A young boss. A master. And he loved older women. In fact that was what he said right from the start.
“I love older women.”
“You do?” I asked.
“You are very beautiful. I love your smile, your body…your breasts, your ass.”
Silky words came pouring out of his mouth as I slowly stripped. I didn’t have to ask him. In the Korean dead of night, and in my room with the dark shades drawn, lust rose like dancing fumes. Our sinful thoughts singing with only one thing in mind.
He knew what to do. His phone dropped from that quick glimpse of his face to his chest, traveling down slowly as mine hands did on my body. My eyes followed his camera as it went down lower and lower to his cock which he was holding in his hand.
Hard, pink, circumcised as most Asian cocks did. A commonality among Gen Zs. Pulsating like a rolling pin in his hand, ready to burst in seeds.
I giggled, eyes glinting or as the guys often say, shining brightly like stars.
“Do you want to see what’s under here?” I asked bent closer to the laptop as my breasts hung like heavy fruit from my laced bra. Swinging like pendulums snapping in rhythm.
I was past trying to speak in Korean. My actions spoke louder, as he pumped hard, and even faster when my robe slid off my shoulder like water sliding off smooth rock, and pooling on the bed.
I reached over and picked up my purple dildo.
“Eat it,” he said.
I giggled again and licked the tip of my hard rubber dildo. He sucked in and ran his fingers down his shaft and up again. I put my mouth on the head and took the entire thing in my mouth, pulling up revealing a wet path of spit as my tongue licked the wetness from the toy.
He groaned and I did it again, kissing the head of the dildo and mouth taking down to the base and up again. Sucking a dildo took skill, mimicking his motions with my mouth, him groaning as I moaned and sucked.
“You need to study how to give blow jobs,” H said before.
“How?” I asked.
“Like how I studied to give orgasms and g-spots” He said. “Online. Videos…read up.”
“You mean study porn?” I asked.
“No. Educational videos.” H said.
“Huh. Like a sex education vid?” I asked.
H shook his head and sighed. “You want to give a better blow job, you find out how.”
That was three years ago. Before we went open. Perhaps it was a start to snowball into something. Or maybe it was when H started filming our sex and blow jobs that got him thinking and he was giving me advice.
I wanted to be better blower. So, I googled and studied women magazines and other videos, not porn. H helped too showing me videos he found, and we watched together and practiced. Often.
“Show me your pussy,” The butler said.
And why was he — the butler? Because when I asked him, “What is your kink?”
“Maids,” He said. “I like all maid costumes. All costumes — nurse, doctor, police…all costumes.”
“Cosplay,” I said. For a period I called him that but butler seemed more like him. Cool and quiet. He barely spoke and watched quietly with an intense gaze. It was easier opening a clam than his mouth.
He had nice lips. A boyish face with large eyes. A cool haircut and a confidence unlike someone his age.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“What does it matter? I like you a lot. You are so beautiful and I want to play with you for a long time.”
“So, you want to be my FWB?” I asked.
“Yes,” He said.
“Don’t you play with other girls?” I asked.
“You have many guys.”
“True, I do,” I smiled.
“But, I like you the most,” He said.
“Okay, let’s be FWB.” And that was how it started. Butler was my first Friend with benefits. We weren’t just friends. He had seen all my privates. Closed up and far.
“Show me your pussy,” he said and I pointed my phone to my wet, hot pussy after a round of orgasm that he caused by pumping his cock so well and his cold instructions of what he wanted me to do.
“Open your legs,” he ordered.
I sat on the ground and open in the W-shape that they all liked.
“Put it in,” he said. “Harder…faster…”
I did as he told and in seconds he watched as I cummed. With him, I cummed again and again listening to his groans and moans, and watching him play but not cumming.
“Why don’t you cum?” I asked, panting, staring at the river of squirt flowing down and under my bed.
I was a dirty bitch.
He laughed. I caught his eyes twinkling as he stared at me. “I like you too much. I don’t want to cum. I’m holding back.”
“Do you ever cum?” I asked.
A good question. Mr. Butler never cummed. He stayed hard and we played an hour or more, Ieaving me exhausted with the different positions he ordered, while he pumped away and not cumming.
“I cum,” he said.
“When am I going to see it? You know I love cum.” I pouted.
Yes. That was part of the reason vid sex drove me wild. The ending, the satisfaction of getting the guy off. The sound of his final climax as mine came straight after.
He laughed. “You’ll see when we meet.”
“If you want it, tell me. I will play with you.”
And so he said. But things always never turned out the way we wanted.
We promised to meet every Tuesday morning to play but he only made it three times and then stopped.
I wore a new lingerie each time we met and being new to this, practiced how I’d seduce him. We played stripping which I loved and he laughed at my shyness even after he’d seen everything.
With him, vid sex was always an hour, and I cummed four times and squirted twice each time we meet. He knew how to extend our play and loved watching me cum.
“I want to see your face,” He said. “You’re so beautiful when you cum.”
And then one day he disappeared. Two weeks went by and I waited like a love-lost girl by the laptop. Waiting for him to show. I figured he was busy with work and exhausted. I was worried he fell sick and there was no way other than from Insta and Kakao to reach him.
We weren’t close.
We were just sex friends.
We weren’t FWBs. I was just bluffing myself.
And on that day when I cried, H was working from home. He kept himself away in a different room, taking his meeting calls, giving me space to play.
But I wasn’t playing and when he saw me crying, he got mad and grabbed me and fucked me good, making me film it so I could send it to Butler as a warning.
Lose this chance, you lose the MILF.
And after dropping the vids and warnings. I said I didn’t want to talk to him anymore and deleted him from Insta and Kakao and my life.
Many guys have seen the vids of that day. Many who read this would know what I’m saying.
The black silky bodysuit. The doggy sex. My moans and cries mixed with lust and sadness. My breasts escaping as H pounded into me.
I am the MILF. I am the Cougar.
The Cougar didn’t cry. She hunted. She is Queen.
And that was how my first FWB ended. Or so I thought.