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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

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