I had been enjoying Jakarta. I had a great apartment on the 37th floor that over looked the city and cost me about US$30 a night. I was a 10-minute walk from Plaza Indonesia and Grand Indonesia shopping centres and I was a HB9 for the first time in my life. It took me a while for it to sink in, but on Tinder I could get dates with high 7’s and 8’s aged between 20-25 most days of the week. Once I realised this I started to filter harder and only keep in conversations with the high 7’s or up. I had been getting laid a lot so I didn’t need to keep any 6’s or even low 7’s around in case I got horny – as I normally do.
Utar’s profile caught my attention. She had big eyes and bad teeth and her face seemed bit small, but she was so tall and skinny that I was sexually attracted straight away. I have a real weakness for skinny skinny girls and her photos just screamed out sex appeal. She got put to the top of my prospects.
She answered yes and I told her a bit about my work and agreed on a date. She asked me if I came from Melbourne and I replied “Yes, but moved to Brisbane in 2003”
“I was 8 years old. Lol. I’m too young for you.”
I enjoyed that she was testing me so early..
“Yes. You really should stay away from me. I will be a bad influence on you”
“Hahah how do u know?” She asked.
I was also a bit sick of dating virgins. That wasn’t my thing. So I wanted to make sure if we had a date and I liked them we were fucking. I a decided to push this conversation a bit further.
“Are you a virgin?” I asked
“No” She replied
“Good. I’m a bad influence distracting you from your work. You should get back to work.”
“What good being no virgin?” She asked
“Virgin = girl. No virgin = woman. I do not date girls”
Tests passed with flying colours. She messaged me when she was close and said she would come direct to my apartment instead of at Starbucks like we had originally planned. I liked her confidence. I went down to the reception to meet her. She looked just like her photos, so skinny, but only about 5’4”. I knew I wanted to fuck her straight away. She was wearing a long black dress, her hair out and no make-up. Her face was natural and beautiful. I sat with her on the couch for five minutes before I invited her up to my room. She walked with a straight back and a swing in her hips. She was confident and co-ordinated. She was sex on legs.
We sat on the couch in my apartment and talked. She kept her distance and I occasionally touched her leg to make a point, but I did my best to hold back and not appear overly keen.
“You come from a good family, rich by Indonesian standards, and you had a good childhood didn’t you?” I cold read.
She looked at me suspiciously. “How do you know?”
“You have a confidence that you can only get with a good early child hood, usually with both parents present.”
She nodded her head.
We had been there for almost 20 minutes and she hadn’t seemed to warm to me. I didn’t want to over-escalate, but I needed to get things moving.
“When was the last time you had sex?” I asked.
She thought for a minute and then replied “About a month ago”
“You?” She asked.
“Two days ago.” I lied. It had been the day before, but I didn’t want her thinking I was a sex maniac.
She asked me a few questions about her and I gave her honest answers. Hot, skinny, 27, a bit boring, probably won’t see her again.
“Did you wear a condom?” She asked.
“No.” I replied.
She looked at me in shock. “Why?”
“She said she hadn’t had sex in 6 months so it felt safe enough. Did you use a condom last time you had sex?”
“Yes. Of course. Safety is very important.” She replied.
We got onto a few other topics. She said “I’m a feminist.”
I laughed and said “I don’t like feminists. Do you shave your pussy?”
“No.” She said.
“I don’t like hairy pussy’s” I replied.
“I think I want to leave now.” She said.
“Ok. I’ll walk you downstairs.” I said standing up and slipping on my shoes. She stayed seated on the couch. I put my hand out. “Come on” I motioned with a smile. “It’s ok”
“I don’t want to go.” She said.
“OK.” I said as I slipped my shoes back off. Still standing I put my hand out for her. She took it and I pulled her to her feet and spun her around in a pirouette. Then I grabbed her by the throat and kissed her on the lips aggressively. She returned the kiss, but said. “Slowly.” Her breath smelt and tasted good.
I danced with her for a bit more and then pulled all 35kg of her onto my lap as I sat on the couch. She straddled me and her whole mood softened. She was no longer a feminist. We spoke in soft voices. I played with her toned stomach. She undid my shirt and played with my chest. 10 minutes later I stood up lifting her with me and carried her to the bedroom. I undressed her. She protested about her panties coming off saying she hadn’t shaved. I had a look. It wasn’t too hairy. I licked the crease in her groin and her stomach and then pushed her panties to the side and licked her sweat clam. It smelt and tasted good. Then I ripped them off and removed my own underwear. Now we were both completely naked.
I kissed her for a bit rubbing my leg in her crotch and then pulled her over on top of me and rubbed her wet pussy lips up and down my shaft. We kissed passionately as I slipped the head of my cock on in her and held the flanks of her skinny arse with force making sure she couldn’t get away and protest about me not wearing a condom.
“Slowly” was all she said as I relaxed a bit and let her tight lips engulf my cock as it slowly slid all the way in. Once balls deep I kissed her and chuckled to myself thinking, Safety is very important. Her wet pussy felt so good and tight as I looked at her skinny perfect body like I was making my own porno. The only thing I don’t like about skinny chicks is they can be too bony and I can hurt my pelvis when I smash them hard. Despite being only 35kg she somehow was able to have enough padding in the right places where I could pound away and not hurt myself.
I put my hand around her throat and squeezed as I slammed her. She seemed to like it so I slapped her arse and pulled her hair. The more I hurt her the more she liked it so I slapped her tits and then her face. This she loved too. She seemed to be without limits. I was starting to warm to her.
“Are you on contraceptive?” I asked.
She mumbled something about the doctor I couldn’t understand so I cut to the chase.
“You want me to come inside you.”
“No. You can’t come inside me. Come on my face.”
So I gave her a few more strokes, pulled out and dropped my load on her face.
We washed up and I pulled her back on the bed to lie with me. I was in a talkative mood and she was asking engaging questions so I started telling stories. I started to suspect that she was actually comprehending what I was saying. The problem with Indonesia (avg IQ 87) and Thailand, to a slightly lesser extent (avg IQ 91), is that any conversation is like with a kid or a retard. They just smile and giggle, but don’t understand much. After sex I had taken to pulling out my kindle and just reading. They got the hint and started watching youtube or playing some kids game on their phone. But Utar seemed like she was paying attention.
Then she started to ask questions that referenced things I had said 5-10 minutes earlier. “Your quite smart aren’t you?” I said. She didn’t answer. “You have always been the top of your class all the way through high school and university?” I pressed. She didn’t agree, but just smiled.
We went to Grand Indonesia Mall for dinner and had to walk amongst pedestrians. The Indonesians skills at being pedestrians shows their sub 80’s IQ. The stop right in front of doorways, walk at a snail’s pace 5 in a row so you have to walk on the road to overtake them, the Uber drivers can’t seem to use google maps, and a list of other annoyances that I had remonstrated myself on being so critical of. I would tell myself. I’m in their country, it’s not their fault they’re not so bright, and if they were smarter it wouldn’t be so cheap here. I am a guest here. If I’m going to come here I need to be tolerant and respectful. As we were walking I I discovered that Utar found all the same things annoying about her own people. “You need to live in a Western country.” I said. “The people her must drive you crazy. You need to find a good husband and move to the first world.”
As we walked the other thing I noticed was that every Indonesian guy looked at her. At first I thought it was because she looked so young and was with me. Even though she was 22, she looked 18, but then I realised they weren’t even really looking at me. They were just looking at her. To me she was a high 7. I had walked down the street with hotter girls, but in Indonesia she was obviously an 8 or even a 9. I swear I had never been with a girl where every guy checks her out. “Indonesian guys have always adored you haven’t they?” I said
She shrugged like it might be true, but she hadn’t noticed. I pushed. “Ever since you were a little kid men have always done things for you. You were shown favouritism all the way through school and uni. That and the fact that you were always top of your class. You have always had things handed to you haven’t you? You’ve never had to work hard for anything?” I said with a smile. I wasn’t trying to be mean. She didn’t say anything but gave a smile that told me I was right.
“How many Indonesian boyfriends have you had?”
“None” She said looking at me like I was crazy to even suggest it.
“You’ve never been with an Indonesian guy.”
“No.” She said repulsed at the idea.
“So you lost your virginity to a Bule?” (Bule is slang for white man)
We sat down for dinner and the waiter took our order. He was obviously checking her out and a bit placating to her. She spoke to him politely, but like he was a different species. He was completely invisible to her, as were all Indonesian men, unless she wanted something, which was rare – they rarely had anything she wanted.
We finished dinner and went back to my room, fucked again for 20 minutes. She said she wanted me to fuck her longer next time. I fell asleep and she left for work in the morning. We met the next night. She stayed for the whole weekend and then it was time for me to leave Jakarta. The sex kept getting better and she just wanted to be fucked the whole time for as long as I could each session, and hurt her as much as I could. She was a complete nympho. I loved it.
Our last night together as we we were sitting on the couch in my apartment she said. “This is just sex for me. I have no feelings for you. I have Simon from America. He is young and much better looking than you. He is the vice president and earns one hundred and twenty thousand dollars a year.”
I looked at her a bit taken a back but tried to keep my cool. I sort of felt for her. She was obviously fearful of getting hurt and was sabotaging our friendship to protect herself. Or was she just testing me? I leaned back and watched her not saying anything.
“You are week. You are not a man. I don’t know why I even stay here with you.” She added.
“It’s ok.” I said. “I understand. I have really enjoyed spending the last couple of days with you. I will take you downstairs and put you in a taxi.”
“What?” She said in shock.
“Look. I don’t know why you are carrying on like that. I don’t really care. I’m not going to let it spoil the memories I have had with you. I will continue to be kind and respectful and see you to a taxi, but you can’t stay here if you want to behave like that.”
“I want to stay. I’ll be good.” She said and crawled into my arms like a child. I hugged her and realised it was all a test.
“You have tried that on other men and they caved in to you?” I asked.
“Yes, two men cried.” She said in disgust.
An hour later she asked how many girls I had fucked. I refused to tell her and she wouldn’t let it go. “More than 50?”
“More than 100?”
“More than 1000?”
I ignored her and watched TV. Ten minutes later she was still asking me. She was perched on the arm of the couch obsessed with getting an answer. The honest answer was I didn’t know. She asked one more time and I stood up and slapped her across the face. “I’ll be good.” She said with the sexiest smile. My heart melted. I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. We fucked, cleaned up, and then I was ready for bed. A few minutes after lying in bed I was drifting off to sleep and she leaned over and hugged me. I could hear her crying. “I’m tired. I want to go to sleep.” I said as I patted her on the arse and rolled over. I drifted off into a wonderful slumber.
The next morning I was working and only had an hour before I had to leave for my flight. She came over to desk with big puppy dog eyes. I gave her a hug. “Will you fuck me one more time.” She asked
“I appreciate the offer, but I haven’t got time. I have to work and then pack.” I took her downstairs and said goodbye.
On reflection I had become the man that I wanted to be when I started this journey. I wasn’t passing her tests just because I knew what to say. I was passing them because I actually felt and acted congruently. I didn’t fear losing her when she was trying it on and I suggested it was time for her to leave. When she cried I patted her like I would a child and focussed on my own needs of sleep. I was finally an emotionally independent and strong man.
A year into this journey I had the hottest date I had ever had back at my house. 21-yr-old-blond-skinny-rock-chick. I was making us something to eat in the kitchen and she said. “You can’t be trusted.”
“What do you mean?” I said puzzled. I had been very respectful and done nothing that I thought would cause her to say that.
“You are too easily manipulated by a woman.”
I have thought on that conversation for the last two years. How can a woman trust you if they can manipulate you? If they can manipulate you then they know other women can.
On review of Utar I have to say I am impressed. She is in the top few percent of all the girls I have ever fucked in terms of good sex, intelligence, and femininity. Now some time has passed and I think about her more I even miss her tests. Am I getting oneitis?