Foreign Influences

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For much of my life, I considered myself average in virtually every way. I had an average upbringing with the exception of my dad not being around much due to me being a ‘surprise’ result of a drunken party encounter. Still, I was surrounded by love from my mother and aunts and always felt that I was pretty fortunate.

I was a slightly better than average student and went to an average university. I did typical things: date, study, party, imbibe; but none of it was anything really to write home about. I then got an average job in an average city. What I did for work, I was good at and was well thought of by my superiors. My life seemed fine and pleasant. Comfortable.

The only area that I had absolutely no luck in was women. Don’t get me wrong, I dated and had relationships; but they all ended for a variety of reasons. Some thought I was boring while others thought I wasn’t boring enough. Some women seemed to never be satisfied by anything, and it seemed like they all knew where I lived. Then something happened, something I’d never seen coming in a million years and that would change my life forever.

I was in the office when I was told that my boss wanted me to escort a group of grad students around. I shrugged as I wasn’t involved in anything pressing at the moment, and I didn’t mind a chance to leave my desk for a while. I went to the lobby and found a group of about 10-15 people all waiting for me. I introduced myself to the professor when I first caught a glance at her.

She was radiant. Asian, semi tall, with a gorgeous face and inviting full lips. A perfect 10 that no one could doubt, clear even in a sweatshirt. I’d never dated an Asian girl before, but this one certainly had my attention. She saw me looking at her and smiled. I escorted them all around the office and told them about our company and various different departments. I answered questions and tried to sneak looks at the mysterious woman whenever I could.

As usual, I tried to be informative and entertaining at the same time; long ago learning that people would actually listen if they could have reason to do so. Most politely laughed, but the Asian girl did more than the rest. Now, I knew I stood no chance with her. I’ve dated women sure, but most of them would be considered the aforementioned average in the looks department. This one was way, way out of my league and I had no illusions about it.

I finished the tour and left them in a conference room for further study and discussion. I returned to my desk and tried to shake the woman out of my head. I got back to work and was as focused on that work as possible. At least I was until I got a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and looked up and saw that the mystery girl was standing right there with a smile.

“Please pardon me,” she said in a heavy French accent. Definitely not what I was expecting. I had to stop staring and answer her.

“No, no problem,” I managed to get out while trying not to look like a lost puppy that found its owner. “How can I help you?” She smiled at me.

“I just wanted to say thank you for showing us the place,” she said in her French accent. “You are a very good guide.”

“Oh,” I said not expecting anyone to thank me for a boring tour, “you’re very welcome.”

“We are in the middle of a pause in our discussions and wondered if you knew of any cafes around.” She was still smiling pretty broadly.

“Yes, there is,” I said thankful that I had the information, “there’s a coffee shop in the lobby that has very good coffee.”

“Merci,” she said continuing her smile, “you could accompany me to it, please?”

I would’ve had to be a damn fool to turn that down. I got up and escorted her down to the coffee shop. She ordered a Café Au Lait and turned to me.

“You will join me?” she said with almost a pleading look. I ordered a black coffee with cream, and she paid for the drinks. I tried to pay myself, but she was insistent. I learned long ago that when a woman wants to pay for something, just let them. She then sat down at a table and motioned for me to join her. Didn’t need to tell me twice. I sat down and took a sip.

“Thank you for the coffee,” I said while trying to maintain eye contact.

“My pleasure,” she said with a smile as she took a sip herself. “I am Danielle,” she said extending her hand to me. I reintroduced myself and took her hand.

“I remember,” she said with a smile. “Do you like working here?”

“I do,” I said honestly, “the bosses are very fair and it’s a positive work environment.” It then hit me that maybe she was trying to butter me up to put in a good word for her with the company. I didn’t really mind as I would’ve probably done it anyway for the handful of them who seemed interested. “Are you interested in the company?”

“Non,” she said with a slight smile. “I’m looking for other opportunities.” Now I was really confused. What the hell did she ask for? “I was just curious if you liked your job.”

Oh.

“I do,” I responded honestly. We then devolved into a conversation. güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri She was from France, being a child of Vietnamese immigrants who wanted to study in the states. We talked briefly about me, but as with much of my experience in talking with women, always better to let them do the talking unless otherwise directed.

We finished our coffees and proceeded back upstairs. When we got to the company lobby, she stopped and turned around, looking right at me.

“I would like to go to dinner with you tonight,” she said almost innocently. “Would you like to go with me?”

Now this I didn’t expect. I’d asked women on dates many times, but I really couldn’t remember a time that a woman asked me. Especially a woman like this.

“I’d love to,” I said trying to keep myself from jumping up and down. She suggested a restaurant that I knew the location of and asked if I would meet her there at 7. I told her I would. She smiled and then went back to join her class. My heart was beating hard at this point.

I truly don’t remember much of the rest of the workday. I did see her and her class leave, and she blew me a kiss as she left. My dick was half hard just seeing that. I left afterwork and went home to quickly shower and change. I dressed nice and then looked at my side table and asked myself if I should bring condoms. Tough decision. Normally, I would’ve gone with the thought of better have them and not need them philosophy, but I then I figured I’d have bad karma doing that.

I went to the restaurant and found that they required reservations. I went immediately red-faced until I saw Danielle walk in. To say that she looked gorgeous was an understatement. She walked in wearing a red, skintight dress. Before she had been wearing a baggy, oversized sweatshirt that hid everything. Nothing was hidden now. She showed her large bust with inviting cleavage. They had to be DDs easily. My eyes then went down to her taught stomach and her hips which were clearly accentuating an ass that would make anyone salivate. She smiled when she saw me there.

“Hello there,” she said with a big smile. She came up and gave me a kiss on each cheek. “You look very handsome,” she said sidling up to me. My face had to have reddened hearing that.

“You’re beautiful,” was all I was able to get out. Apparently, this had a good effect as she just got closer to me and had a big smile. I then indicated toward the maître d’ and told her we needed reservations. She smiled and brushed me off a bit as she approached him.

“Reservation under Minh,” she said as plain of fact as anyone could’ve. The host looked at his list and you could see his eyes brighten seeing the listing.

“Apologies, mademoiselle,” he said with perfect inflection and reverence. “The gentleman didn’t give your name, please let me escort you both to our best table.”

I had no idea what to make of this. The guy that before was a rude and dismissive as possible, now wanted us to have the best table in the joint. I figured maybe he had a hard-on for Danielle as well (not that I could blame him) and seated us at a premier table. I noticed quite a few men and more than a couple of women looking at us. We sat down and were given menus.

“Sorry about before,” I told her innocently, “I didn’t know you made reservations.”

“I thought that I would arrive before you,” she said innocently enough as she looked over the menu. The waiter then came up and asked about drinks. Danielle just looked at me with a serious, playful look. “Do you trust me with the wine?” she said with a smirk.

“I defer to the French when it comes to that particular spirit,” I said matching her grin. Her grin became a smile as she ordered a bottle of something I’d never heard of.

“Excellent choice, madam,” he said as he retreated to get our order. It felt so prim and proper that I started sitting straighter. She noticed this and smiled again. It was clearly a look that indicated I wasn’t used to a fancy restaurant, which was true.

“Was this too much?” she said with a bit of concern.

“Not at all,” I replied. “A high-class woman deserves high class treatment at all times.” She immediately responded with a smile that started getting me more comfortable. It was around this time that she noticed many people looking at us. She didn’t seem uncomfortable about it but did notice it.

“They all seem to be looking at us,” she said quietly. I just smiled.

“No,” I said matter of factly, “they all seem to be looking at you. You come in with that much elegance, beauty, and class and you’re gonna turn some heads.” She smiled widely at the comments, clearly indicating I was getting some points with her.

“Do not sell yourself short,” she said using and English idiom I wouldn’t have thought she knew. “There are plenty of women here who wish they were dining with you.”

I really didn’t know what to make of that comment and luckily the wine steward came at the same time with the bottle she’d ordered. I sniffed the cork, per güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri tradition and he poured out into our glasses. We toasted and settled a bit. Light chit chat until they took our orders.

Once that was done, we started really talking. I told her about my family and background, and she told me of hers. Apparently, her father had passed a few years ago and her only family was her mother and 2 younger sisters. She said she came to America to study as she wanted to experience something new. She said that she liked America, but still missed her home in France. I admitted I’d never been overseas.

“Oh, I think you would like France,” she said with some degree of glee. “We aren’t quite as rude as Americans think we are.” I acknowledged it, knowing and noting that all stereotypes were open to interpretation. She smiled wide at that comment. “So the stereotype that the French are great lovers, you don’t believe?”

I damn near choked on my wine when she said that and had no idea how to respond. She picked up the conversation for me.

“And that my family is from the Orient, nearly the same thing, yes?” She definitely had a playful look in her eye and was interested to hear my answer. I took another sip before I responded.

“I know that there is exaggeration in stereotypes,” I started with, “but I also know that there’s probably a degree of truth in them too.” Vague enough to encompass whatever she was pushing, but pliable enough that I was open to being re-educated. She smiled wide at the comment, apparently hitting the right chords.

“You have no idea,” is all she told me. My dick was already half hard as the appetizers hit the table. We continued talking and I learned that she didn’t have much longer to go in her studies but was undecided as to where she wanted to wind up. I listened intently while she asked me more about America.

I told her my experience and what my thoughts were: both positive and negative. She listened intently, clearly placing some value on my opinion.

Honestly, I couldn’t remember an easier date. She relaxed me, even in spite of her beauty and made me feel comfortable in talking to her. It felt like I was talking more to an old friend, rather than a goddess who would make men drool at the site of her. We eventually got our entrees and continued talking as we ate. She told me more of her life in France and how she loved her country and felt proud to be from there. I asked her how that felt with regard to her heritage. She seemed surprised at the question.

“Wow,” was her first response and I worried that I stepped over the line. Her face changed quickly. “No one has ever been thoughtful enough to ask me that before.” I did a mental fist pump at that. “I love my heritage,” she explained, “but I am French, and am proud to be French.”

I acknowledged that and she smiled as I paid tribute to the comment. She smiled as I did that.

“I’ve said all this before on dates,” she admitted. “But no one has given me the courtesy that you’ve shown,” as she raised her glass. “You are clearly among the best of your nationality.”

I can’t be sure, but its fully possible that I blushed at that. I raised my glass as well.

“As clearly you are for yours,” came naturally from my tongue. She smiled again as we clinked our glasses together. We then ordered dessert and had espresso. She smiled deeper as we went into our desserts.

“May I be honest with you?” she asked innocently. I nodded my head in obvious approval. “Other then maybe my father, you are the most charming man that I’ve ever encountered.”

I stifled a laugh when she said that, not wanting to insult her.

“Clearly,” I said almost teasingly, “you haven’t met enough good men.”

She just smiled wide. “I don’t need to meet many good men,” she said with certainty as she leaned closer into me. “Just one.”

Danielle let that hang there and I had no response to it. Her dark eyes were now on fire. Desire. Pure, unadulterated desire. I was turned on and nervous all at the same time. The waiter then came to ask if we wanted anything else.

“No, thank you,” she said sweetly as she turned her gaze to me, “just the bill.” She had a very sly smile at the end of that. It’s a miracle I wasn’t hard or sweating. The waiter returned with the bill and I insisted on paying, breaking my normal rule.

“But I invited you,” she insisted trying to get me to hand it over. I shook my head.

“You were nice enough to get me coffee and invite me out, this is the least I can do,” I said. She acquiesced and I put my credit card down. She kept her stare on me, smiling all the way. I signed and we got up from the table, me being a gentleman, I pulled her chair out for her. I got a cute “merci beaucoup” from her as we proceeded out, many eyes following us yet again. We were outside the restaurant and she quickly hooked her arm into mine.

“This was very nice,” she said with her continuing smile.

“It was,” I agreed, sensing the date was coming to a close. güvenilir bahis şirketleri “I hope we can do it again sometime.”

She gave me a look that made me think I was the dumbest human male walking the earth. Just a slight head tilt that said “Really?” in bold letters.

“We will,” she said with absolute certainty, “but I think our date should continue, yes?” I may not be the smartest or most confident man in the known universe, but I wasn’t entirely stupid. I smiled and we went for a walk. We continued to talk the whole time, about likes, dislikes, passions, history, and the proper way to prepare scrambled eggs. Then she decided to ask me point blank.

“Do you live near here?” she asked both innocently and with energy charged underneath it.

“A couple of blocks that way,” I said indicating near the way we came. She abruptly spun around and took me with her. She wasn’t quite dragging me, but it was damn close. I guided her until we got to my apartment building. Like most things in my life, it wasn’t the nicest or fanciest; but I liked the neighborhood. She stood at in front of the entrance, my hands in hers and just looked deep into my eyes, if not my soul.

“Well?” she said with a slight smile. I was looking at the beauty in front of me and was dumbfounded. “In France, it is considered good manners to invite a lady in.” My brain then snapped to attention.

“Would you like to come up for a drink?” I said indicating toward the front door.

“Merci,” in her cute accent as she hooked my arm again and we went upstairs. Luckily for me, I usually kept my apartment pretty tidy. No beer cans or plates strewn about. Clean enough for a dude’s apartment, but not so much that she would think I was an uptight neat freak.

“It is very nice,” she said in apparent approval.

“What can I get for you?” I asked stepping over to the bar.

“Bourbon, sil vous plait,” Danielle responded surprising me.

“Coming up.”

“May I use your toillete?” she asked off handedly.

“Sure, right over there,” I said pointing to the guest bathroom.

“Merci,” was all I heard as closed the door behind her. I grabbed the good bourbon that I had and poured 2 glasses.

“Ice?” I said loudly enough for her to hear me in the bathroom.

“Oui,” I heard in reply. I brought the glasses over to the fridge and opened up the freezer. I heard the door open back up as I finished putting the ice in the glasses. I closed freezer up and took the glasses back over.

“Here you go…oh!”

I suddenly had a completely naked Asian French woman in front of me. Saying that her body was perfect seemed to be an understatement. Her DD breasts looked firm and proud on her frame. Her stomach was taught, like you could bounce a quarter of it. Her pussy looked perfect, no lips hanging out and a cute little Asian-style bush at the top. It was a damn miracle I didn’t spill the drinks. She just looked at me and kept smiling.

“In France,” she explained, “we are taught to be as comfortable as possible when we are guests.” She just kept going with her coy smile. I stumbled trying to find a respond.

“Comfort is important,” I managed to mumble out. She just smiled wider as she walked seductively toward me. I held out her drink toward her, not really thinking she’d take it. To my surprise, she did and raised her glass in a toast.

“To new passions,” she said, while taking a sip. I took a slightly large sip. She then put her drink down and came right up next to me.

“Does my body please you?” she asked while starting to rub my chest through my shirt. My mind immediately went to 2 places hearing this. One was the obvious “fuck yeah!!” that would come out of any man. But I also had a competing thought, a slight feeling in the back of my head that this could be a test.

“Everything about you is pleasing,” I said with a smile. “You’re smart, kind, interesting, exotic, driven, and sweet.” Her smile was growing as I was talking. “Your beauty doesn’t change any of that,” I said but added this last thought, “but it don’t hurt either,” I added with a likeness of her sly smile.

Apparently, I guessed right cause she pressed herself tight against me and drew me into a deep kiss. I managed to get my glass onto a flat surface of some kind and returned her embrace. Her kiss was subtle and teasing, her tongue starting to caress mine. I had my hands on her hips, but didn’t move them any further down, not wanting to press my luck that far yet. She clearly had no problem as she moved down with her hands and started kneading my ass like it was dough.

She broke the kiss, took me by the hand and led me toward my bedroom. Doing so gave me a look at her luscious ass, perfectly fitting her frame. I was as hard as a telephone pole at this point. Once in the bedroom, she began pulling my shirt off and then bent down and started pulling off my shoes. I tried to assist in the effort, but she stopped me.

“Asian tradition,” she said with a smile, “women take off man’s clothing.” With that she pulled off my socks and began work on my belt. The view was erotic to the extreme. She got my trousers down and now was looking at my underwear with my hard cock laying “dormant” inside. She just started rubbing it gingerly in her hand through the fabric. As she went along the shaft her smile just kept increasing.

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