I can’t stop cumming from being degraded by white men.

Another Friday evening. Another night of debauchery. I meet a guy at the bar, as usual, in back alley of the downtown area where local Asian girls go to meet foreign men, most of whom comes from America. He is tall, and ruggedly handsome, with brown hair and blue eyes.

He takes me back to his apartment, a loft in a luxury condo overlooking the city. We both strip out of our clothes until we are completely naked and we stand before the clerestory window daydreaming over starry streets below.

He tells to me lay down on the polished wooden floor and spread my legs. I thought he’s going to fuck me. Instead, he straddles between my face and lowers his body and tells me to lick his balls. The thought of a white man making me doing such degrading things pushes me over the edge and I feel an an orgasm building up inside me.

I put my hands on his hairy thighs–the massive white-pinkish muscles covered by a layer of golden mane–and start licking his balls. It’s salty, meaty and stinky. He squats over my face, like he’s about to take a dump, Asian style. I’m his toilet, his “Asian squat toilet”. I squirm and moan as I suck his balls and watch as his cock grows larger and more erect. I gently lick his balls. Then I suck on each one of his balls. Then I flick my tongue against his balls. He compliments me. “You have better techniques than a Chinese prostitute.” The thought of being compared to a real prostitute makes me horny.

He shifts his feet and lowers his ass crack directly over my face. First my eyes are staring directly at his ass crack. Then my nose is directly under his ass crack. Eventually my mouth is touching his hairy ass and he directs me to lick his ass.

As soon as I stick my tongue out he sits down further making me bury my entire face directly into his ass crack. The masculine smell muffles me. The degradation loses me in an inhuman world of shame, humiliation, and pleasure. The momentary illusion of my dignity as a woman, as a human being, is erased and I become his toilet seat.

He gets up a little to allow me to breathe and then sits down on my face again. I open my mouth wide and wait for the sensual degradation.

The hair on the back of his balls ruffles against my face. He laughs and I tell him to take a picture as souvenir. He grabs his phone from the nearby table and aims the camera at my face, which is near his ass. I smile for the camera; I indulge in my own depravity.

After the photoshoot he gets up, turns, and sticks his penis into my mouth. His whole body is on top of me, and his hands are outstretched, like he’s doing a push up.

He gets up again, and tells me to lick his ass crack some more, as he starts jerking his cock. I splay open his ass cheeks with my fingers and buries my tongue deep, trying my best to get as deep as I can. He grabs his phone again and takes a 10 second video.

Is it normal for a man to have one ball hanging lower than the other, I wonder as I continue to flick my tongue against his hairy, pinkish ass crack.

He starts jerking his cock vigorously. After a few minutes, he stands up, and drips his cum over my face, my chest, and my stomach. I’m bathed in his cum. Some drips on my lips and I taste it with tongue. I bathe not just in cum, but in glory, a sense of accomplishment overwhelms me, I think to myself.

I’m a yellow urinal for this white guy. I say to myself out loud, and my pussy spasms. I’m so near an orgasm, without even touching myself. He steps over me and I sit up on the floor, with cum dripping all over me. Smile for the camera. He tells me. Stick your tongue out. He tells me. I pose for the camera. I massage my own breasts and stick a finger in my mouth. I suck on my own finger and then put it in my pussy. I masturbate myself to climax. He watches. He records with his phone. He grins and laughs.

You cannot understand how much I long to escape.

In seeking this orgasm, I deny myself for nearly ten years. Ten years before this day I did not know what an orgasm meant. Before this discovery, I was never really able to orgasm during sex, and, yet now, I’m able to orgasm even without having sex. So much has changed in me. I can no longer go back to the original me, the innocent me, that had long been gone, the sexually repressed me. And yet this freedom is so taxing on my body. I have finally become what I had always fantasized, a free-use prostitute for white men.

My whole body convulses and I collapse on the floor with my fingers still inside my pussy. He grabs a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, pours out a glass for himself, sits on his sofa and starts watching TV. I crawl to the bathroom and cry to myself. Cleaning myself, putting my clothes back on, I go home and masturbate again before I cry myself to sleep.