Young Asian MILF is coerced by son’s arrogant white friend

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But lying awake, unable to sleep, I couldn’t fathom what I’d done.

It was as if, in the course of a single day, I’d become a totally different person, someone completely unfamiliar to myself. After 14 years as a faithful, dutiful wife, I had cheated on Steve, not once but twice. I’d had sex with my son’s best friend. I’d let him fuck me without a condom. And my body had responded in ways that just didn’t align with the person I thought I was.

I couldn’t help wondering whether Johan was right.

I’d begun the day as Mrs. Kim, a devoted wife and mother. That’s who I thought I was, the person I’d been raised to be. But somehow, I’d ended it as Nikki, an Asian slutwife who gave this young, white stud and his huge cock whatever he wanted.

Maybe Johan had transformed me, just like he’d said he would.

The next day, Danny won the 3×3 championship, breaking Johan’s world record in the process. And Johan, true to his word, was gracious in defeat, cheering him on and posing for pictures with Danny after it was done.

The normalcy of that final day made everything that came before it seem even more surreal. The tournament ended, we said goodbye, and we got on the plane back to LA.

I wish I could say that when we landed back in Los Angeles, we left the events of this story behind us. I wish I could reset myself to the person I was before all of this happened.

But once a puzzle has been solved, its hard to forget the solution. Once the pieces have all clicked into place, it’s hard to remember the way things were beforehand. Because once you’ve seen the solution, it feels like that’s where the pieces belong, where they need to be.

When I look back on that trip–when I think about Johan–my feelings are more complicated than perhaps they should be.

What he did to me was wrong. It was inexcusable, even criminal. At a minimum, he had blackmailed and coerced me into sex against my will. He used me and made me break my marital vows. I’ll never forgive him for any of those things.

But despite it all, his friendship with Danny really was among the most positive influences on my son. In the years before that trip to Sydney, Johan had taken Danny under his wing, shown him the power of friendship, and opened his eyes to the world in ways that my husband and I simply couldn’t. From Danny’s perspective, Johan was his best friend, and that was all he needed to know.

I choose to believe that their friendship was genuine, not some years-long scheme that Johan hatched to build trust with our family in order to get close to me. I choose to believe that this was a crime of opportunity, where Johan used his real friendship with my son to take advantage of me. I choose to believe Johan did a terrible thing to me, but after seeing the way he befriended my son, it’s hard for me to think of him as a truly bad person, even though he ultimately used that friendship to exploit me.

But he did exploit me. And he did change me. How could he not?

I couldn’t undo the things I’d done for Johan. I couldn’t unsay the things I’d said to him. I couldn’t forget the things he had made me feel.