Feeld me out
“My wife likes you,” he said.
That threw me off. Never had I thought I’d get to this point. It started with downloading a new dating app. Heard it was a kinky app created in San Francisco, and I was getting desperate. The profile section wasn’t typical like Bumble, Hinge or Tinder. Immediately, it started asking my gender type I was and my sexual preference.
Red flags. Alarm bells was ringing continuously but I kept on. My goal was to get H an Asian girl. I’d been trying for a month, to the point of watching YouTube videos of a hot guy who promised results from online dating — a how-to cheat sheet or individual consults on the best ways to catch the attention of girls online. Even the nerds and big boys can get laid.
Yeah. I’d dropped that far.
I strongly believed he was punishing me.
Who?
H, aka my husband. This was at the start of our open relationship and I was getting thousands of likes and matches but he wasn’t. Granted this would make anyone frustrated but with his strict criteria of not showing his face, name or occupation, I didn’t know how I was supposed to help.
He took pics of me to post on dating apps which caught the eyes of thousands of horny homo-sapiens. So now it was my turn to help him find the girls.
“You’re a girl. You should know how they think,” H said once.
“But I’m not like them.” I pouted. “I don’t play hard to get.” Us versus them. I wasn’t a normal girl.
“You’re right. You’re like a horny teenage boy,” H replied.
“Hahaha. Very funny.”
“The guys have it easy. You tell them what you want. No need to second guess,” he said.
True. I was a diamond in a haystack where if the vibe and the guy were my type, I was ready to play a little in that haystack. Carpe diem Milfy.
When we began our solo sexy journey, neither of us knew that Asian men were down the totem pole in dating apps, with the crazy ratios of 10:1 guys to girls, H’s visibility was close to NIL.
Don’t get me wrong. H is a total catch. A hot MILF like me only picked the best to breed. He was as perfect a guy any woman would wish for. The only flaw was, he was married, and he was married to a gorgeous, hot, talented woman whom he would proudly talk about.
Women have egos too. Even if the guy you meet is tall, handsome, friendly, and well-put together with an awesome career, no woman wants to be in second place. Didn’t help that H was telling stories of our yolo adventures and especially about my meet-ups with men twenty years younger than I.
Because of that, three women asked to meet me, and another formed a naughty crush.
“She wants to see you,” H said one day.
“What? Who?” H was chatting with a curvy Korean American woman with big boobs. Recently divorced with kids, and ready to meet someone new and get down and dirty. “Why?”
“She thinks you’re cool. I gave the other woman, the artist, your number too,” he said.
“Why?” I shook my head. “Please don’t talk about me. I don’t want to meet them.”
“Just go. Find out what she is thinking,” he said. I could tell he was into her. No surprise when I saw her pictures.
So I went. Had lunch with the Korean woman which was weird, because she kept asking for my stories and I sensed I was sized up which I didn’t like. Baby cougar was my new me and having another woman eroding my newly wrought self-confidence, wasn’t necessary.
It didn’t work out. Korean woman said she met a Korean hunky guy who had a big dick and was single. It sounded that she wanted to settle even though she just went to a divorce. That was fine, in retrospect, it was good H moved on. Our journeys were meant to be freeing and being tied down with drama wasn’t what we needed.
Family will always be first. Any fun we had was gravy.
Back to Feeld. Turned out it was for kinky people. Unicorns and stallions, threesomes, orgies and weird sex — it was the gateway to a world I wasn’t ready to be part of.
As always, the second I uploaded my pics and profile, I was bombarded with likes and messages.
I had a mission. I sifted through the noise and hunted for those Asian girls. Most were coupled with white men, Asian and White fetishes were in full force. Though I saw two couples which were Asians, a minority in the app for couples looking for their sexy unicorns, and swappers.
“My wife likes you. My girlfriend wants to play with you,” said a few.
“I’m not into women,” I had to make it clear. At that time, I was new and unsure, for H, I was willing to couple up if I could snag an Asian girl. Thinking back I shouldn’t have gone that far. Why compromise and do something I didn’t want?
“V is hiding his wife from us,” said H one of the times when we were chatting about the people we met. H was finally getting traction after posting his selfie pics and changing his profile to what he liked.
Women were different from men. They like knowing whom they were meeting, ie. Name, origin, recent pictures, jobs etc. Men only wanted someone who looked hot or pretty, and some even openly admitted it got them super excited that I was married.
“We don’t have to swap. I can just meet you only,” said one White guy. “You have beautiful breasts. I want to suck them till your milk comes.”
“Is that even possible?” I asked. “I thought the milk glands only work when you have a baby.”
“There are methods of sucking,” he said. “I’ve done it before. Got a woman to lactate.”
My jaw dropped. This was new. The proposal was tempting, not that I wanted my breasts to start filling up. The science behind it was a little worrying.
Another Asian couple said, “My girlfriend is bi and she thinks you are very hot, but she’s willing to watch us and masturbate.”
The thought was terrifying and another couple with an Asian Domme was aggressively trying to chat with me, sending pics and wanting to meet.
The sexual stimulation was too much, blinking lights and messages coming, both guys and girls wanting more of my pics, and nightmares that night of being taken by force by women. It wasn’t a rape fantasy I’d like. I barely lasted twenty-four hours, forget the adventures of three or more.
“So, you dropped it?” H asked.
I nodded. “I can’t do it. Those people are so thirsty.” I looked up from swiping on my phone. Dating apps were my version of Candy Crush. It was way less time than Netflix bingeing.
“I don’t think I want to do a swap,” said H. We’d talked about how V’s wife was hiding after the swapping and it sounded like she was unwilling to have sex with the guy in the couple.
“Yeah, me too!” I jumped at the decision. H always seemed to know me so well, words were unspoken but hearts were in sync.
“I know how you think,” he said, “You can’t hide from me. I always know when you are lying.”
True. We have been together longer than we lived with our parents. Almost thirty years in a year’s time. H and I are best friends, soulmates, family, parents, lovers, and red threads that tied our fates a long time ago, brought us together time and time again in happiness, sadness, anger, frustration, and love.
We were yolo-ing because lust and crushes sparked our paths and it was time for a change. Sex made us happy again and being loved and idolized was a good feeling.
Was that why the hook-up culture was big in the US? Or we were just lucky that the gravy tasted so good.
“I have a confession,” said H one day.
I sat up on my bed. “What is it?”
“Remember L from Japan?” He asked.
Yes, L was H’s FWB. She was also the reason for our first big fight.
“What about her…”
“I didn’t know this either…but she’s bi,” he said. “She had her first sex with a woman.”
Oh no…another one.
“So, turns out when I showed her your gg insta, she really liked it.”
Yes, I remembered that. I accepted her follow because ego made me do it. I wanted to show her that I was better. I was the first wife. Whatever, I am human too.
“She has a crush on you,” he added.
“What?” I shook my head. Not again.
“And…,” he paused and I shook my head. “Don’t get mad.”
“What?” I asked. I’m past the point plus the last thing I want was to fight over her again. That is another story to tell.
“She likes to masturbate to your pics. You have the biggest, juiciest boobs,” He smiled. “That’s what she said. I’m not making it up. She even told me she cummed.”
“Crap. WTF.”
As I said many times about how sex opened doors, big boobs, no matter what gender or preference will always be that currency that everyone wanted.
Move aside Bitcoin. In this Byeontae game, we pay with Boobs.