Chapter 1 - White Daddy



“Asian women are the worst.” 

 It was a blanket statement that I heard at least once a month from the time I was sixteen, from everyone ranging from my uncle to my close friends and random people on Reddit.  

You see, my mother was Asian and my father was white. As strange as it may seem this never occurred to me as significant when I was young. For the most part, I was sheltered enough not to be aware that Mom and Dad were from a different race, nor had it ever been brought to my attention that I wasn’t white. If I saw a white person on TV I just assumed we were the same. Sounds crazy, but it’s true. I just assumed we were all the same and slightly different. Even when I realized there were multiple races it never seemed significant.

Things only changed in the ninth grade when I went to a private high school an hour’s drive away from home. My mother insisted it was the best place to go. It was then that many of the white guys and girls that became my “friends” relentlessly picked on the Asians in our school. They called them “chinks” and “gooks” and “slant-eyes” and everything they could think of including “Chinese”, since they couldn’t distinguish between real slurs and the insult implicit and assuming a person’s ethnicity. 

I was spared from all of it. No one ever pointed out I wasn’t white, and I later learned that they made the assumption that my mom was some kind of trophy wife of my father’s after he remarried. It wasn’t a hard case to make. My father was over fifty when he had me while my mother was only a kid. My mom just entered her thirties and looked early twenties. And I had no distinctly Asian features. 

I’m just trying to give you an understanding of my situation. I was confused. Things got so clouded in my head that I genuinely started to believe that Mom might not be my biological mother. I remember coming home one time and asking all sorts of questions about her pregnancy and having me just to skirt around the topic and receive confirmation that she was, in fact, my real mom. 

It turned out that Mom was Vietnamese, which made me half-Vietnamese. At first, this seemed kind of cool despite of what was going on at school. It turned out that many of the online friends I never asked questions of were Asian or half-Asian as well. But just as I started to grow into my Asian identity it turned out that Asians were really fucking racist against the Vietnamese. I won’t bother going into details, but long story short, I felt rejected and wanted to deny my Asian identity even more. I broke off friendships with most of them. I was glad I looked white. And I made a point of bullying the fuck out of our Chinese classmates - including the girls. I began to hate the Chinese, almost with a fascistic fanaticism. 

The one time I opened up to Mom about it, rather than doing the adult thing and explaining how wrong my preconceived notion were, rather than explaining how xenophobia was bad and I shouldn’t let it get to me, she began to rant about how the Chinese were scum, how she hated all her Chinese co-workers, and how her mother’s family left Vietnam because of the Chinese. And then came one final blow to my already shattered identity. “Your grandfather” - she said, meaning her dad - “was Chinese.” 

My whole notion of self crumbled. I didn’t know who to hate. It just seemed like no matter what, I was better off just accepting I was white and ignoring all this. Other people already did, so why wouldn’t I? If I could pass myself as white forever, it would make things so much easier. But while that made my own being in the world simpler, it hardly did anything for my hatred of other Asians.

I hated Mom a little, too. 

To begin with, I hated her because I started to realize that she dressed like a whore. For example, she would come pick me up wearing either these blouses sheer enough that you could see her lace bra underneath, or some low-cut sweaters that put her deep cleavage on display. Always wearing this red fuck-my-mouth whorish lipstick Whether we were driving the car or walking down the street, the top of her breasts were always jiggling and threatening to spill out of the flimsy cups of her bra. I couldn’t get why she dressed that way when all the other mothers at school were so normal. 

But more than that, I noticed that Mom served my father more than anything. We would have to wait for him and be ready for dinner whenever he came home, even if it was 11 p.m. She always dressed up for him and put makeup on, going out of her way to cook these amazing restaurant dinners made from Vietnamese recipes. Dad would come home and sit his fat ass at the table, not saying a word to me, while she got in his lap and let him caress her bare thighs and fed him like a baby.

On one hand, these were my loving parents. I was happy they were happy together. 

On the other, all I saw was a fat white guy now in his sixties, married to a slavish Asian girl more than half his age that he treated somewhere between a mistress and a maid. He would always bring her jewelry and let her plan our trips to Europe, feeling up her young legs and ass as bits of crab from the gỏi cuốn flew from his fat fucking mouth to the opening of her cleavage. 

Disgusting. These were my parents? 

I turned eighteen and was still a virgin. I couldn't make the courage to ask any of the white girls out on dates, and many people assumed that I was gay. Not because I was feminine, but because I was so quiet, so neat, good-at-school and overly polite. I also worried that if I got too close to any of the girls from school, the white ones anyway, that they would laugh at me being half-Asian. Discover my deep dark secret. The blonde girls that I was friends with always mentioned how “hot” my mom was, asking me if I ever thought about fucking her myself and giggling.

I found out from them, too, that one of the Chinese girls we picked on routinely had a crush on me. Her name was Rebecca, and by that time she had grown a serious pair of tits for a teen, the kind that the teachers clearly acknowledged but never commented on. A pure titcow. The fact that I despised the Chinese and thought so low of them made it easier for me to approach her. To talk to her. I had nothing to be embarrassed about when she was so much more inferior to me. 

One day I just walked over to her desk and said, “My friends told me you have a crush on me.” 

This was way too direct for any eighteen-year-old, and I said it in a tone that left her a paralyzed. She blushed, her eyes gaping from behind her thick-rimmed glasses. “Uhm…” 

“If you want to go out with me, you have about five seconds to comply. Five. Four. Th--”

“Yes!” she cried, then instantly withdrew back into her mental safe house, like a snail going into its shell.

“Okay. This weekend, then.” 

We went out plenty of times, yet I couldn’t get myself to do anything with her. As much as I could interrupt her or talk down to her, I just couldn’t get myself to put my hand on her thigh or even to kiss her. And instead of putting on a tight shirt or anything sexual, she kept coming out in these sepulchral black outfits put together out of several layers of clothing. She was obsessed with hiding her tits - her only good fucking feature. It just seemed… off. Instead we went to movies and I listened to her talk about her pet hamsters and how she wanted to attend a cosplay convention in the other town. 

“We can go,” I told her. 

“Really?!” 

“Sure. My mom can drive us.” 

Her eyes were watering. “That’s so sweet and thoughtful.” 

“Please don’t cry,” I said harshly. “Please.” I couldn’t take her crying again. She cried from almost anything. 

“I’m just so grateful.” 

My eyes went down to the huge tits, this time barely visible under the black hoodie. “Then wear more low-cut clothing.” 

Her gears stopped working again. “W-What?” she stammered.

“You have great breasts. Why do you keep hiding them? I want to see them.” 

“Oh…” 

“Try to be sexier for me.” 

I thought I went too far but she only lowered her head obediently, saying, “Okay…” 

The next day Rebecca came to school in one of her usual sweaters, but a small heart-shaped cutout had been excised from the fabric that left her cleavage and soft breasts exposed. All the other guys were staring at her and the girls whispered. A few of the teachers gave her long looks, but it wasn’t the place of underpaid teachers at a private school to start telling kids what to wear. I felt both proud that she was mine and jealous and conflicted that so many other guys wanted her. She was my little chink.

As we sat on the bench after school waiting for my mom to pick me up, Rebecca said, “Do I look better today?”

“Much better.” 

Happy dimples appeared in her reddened cheeks and she smiled stupidly. “I wonder what you’ll think about my costume.” 

“Why?”

She shook her head. “You’ll see.” 

I went home as always and jacked off to porn of big-titted Asian girls that looked just like Rebecca. I hated how JAV was censored so I ended up watching mostly amateur stuff. Asian girls getting fucked by white guys. The comments flared up with Asian guys whining about it. 

That’s kind of how I ended up on places like /r/AsianMasculinity before, reading all these fucked up posts about how whites took all the credit for Asian achievements. How Asian women were being misled by the media into dating white men exclusively. How there were thousands of porn blogs on Tumblr named everything from rice-whores to gookdom dedicated to whites men breeding Asian women, and how Asian women were naturally submissive to white men. I ended up fapping for hours listening to Azula’s white cock worship audios and picturing Rebecca saying the same about me. Worshiping me. How many chinks at school must’ve been in love with her and annoyed at the fact that she dated me, a white guy? White to their knowledge, at least.

But I felt dirty when I finished. I felt bad. Inferior. I was only half-white. If she knew that, would she even still like me? Or would she then just run straight for the first white guy and make me watch as she submits to him? Much to my disgust and disappointment, I ended up coming to that as well. 

Though I was always mistaken as white, one of the things I can’t say is that people thought I was manly. Like I said, plenty of people assumed I was gay. Everyone said I was pretty. Rebecca also said that about me all the time, that I was so pretty she was jealous. And reading up on all those pro-Asian blogs about Asian masculinity, it turned out that that was a common thing. That Asian guys were promoted as being more feminine somehow. Fit to be cucked and feminized.

It was that night, out of the blue, that I decided to go and cut my hair short. I made such a mess of it that Mom came home and screamed at me nonstop for an hour, then quickly called up her own hair stylist and drove me there so she could fix up my “majestic fuck-up.”

When Dad came home and noticed me, he stopped doing anything else, which was uncharacteristic. He came forward and run his fingers over my new hair, saying, “Done with the faggy hair, I see. You look handsome as hell now.” His rough fingers came down to my cheeks and his thumb moved over them gently. “Even got a bit of fuzz. You’re becoming a real man.” 

I started to love Dad from that moment one. I felt so proud of myself and of the fact that I won his approval that I would’ve stabbed to death the first person that spoke against him. Mom, however, said I looked boring and ordinary. “Your girlfriend is going to murder you.” 

As it happened, my mother was too sick to drive me and Rebecca to the convention. But since we had planned to go and my father was free, my mother convinced him to take us. We got into the luxurious BMW and drove all the way to Rebecca’s far more modest suburban house at the edge of town. Her family only owned one car by the looks of it - a Prius. “I’m not sure I should let you date this girl,” Dad said, only half-jokingly. 

We got out of the car and went to ring the bell. The woman that answered was absolutely gorgeous. She was a little older than my mother and also Asian; her hair had been cut into a messy bob and dyed a super light brown. From afar, it would’ve been hard to tell she was Asian at all. But her clothing was what got to us. She wore all white, with a tight tank top that held her hefty chest and came high enough to reveal her toned tummy. Her pants were super loose and somewhat sheer, and when she turned to go get Rebecca both my father and I could see her bare ass-cheeks under it as well as the black thong between them.

“Goddamn,” he whistled. “If that’s the mother, I can’t wait to see the daughter.” 

The comment was a little unsettling. Plus, I thought the mother was much better than I could’ve imagined. Though she was clearly older than Mom something about the relaxed and casually revealing way she carried herself made her seem a lot younger than she was..

We could hear some yelling from upstairs and the mother came back down again. “Sorry about that,” she said with a smile, “she’s almost done. She feels worried you won’t like her.” 

Before I could reply, my father said, “If she looks anything like her mother, I’m sure she’s gorgeous.” 

She laughed lightly and looked down. “You’re way too kind.” 

Dad wasn’t letting go. “I’m not sure I can be kind enough.” 

This time she caught his gaze and narrowed her eyes and bit her lip. “I’m Ayane,” she told him, and shook his hand. 

“James. You Japanese?”

“I am.” 

She was Japanese? “Rebecca said she’s Chinese.” 

“Well, her father is Chinese,” explained Ayane, “and you know how they are.” 

“Oh, don’t I ever,” said Dad. “My wife’s only half-Chinese and I’m already considering an upgrade.” 

What he said left me scarred of how direct and rude it was. I thought Ayane would reprimand him. Instead she giggled grimly, said, “Well, you know the Japanese make the best stuff.” 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. They were...flirting? This openly? With me there? 

The way Dad looked her up and down as if she were a fucktoy for purchase at the store made a deep impression on me. It didn’t help that Ayane just stood there, more than a head shorter than he was and probably a third of his weight, smiling and happy to be seen in just that way. She liked it too. The slut. How could Asian women be such whores? Those guys on the Reddit were right. 

Footsteps could be heard coming from upstairs and they both went quiet. Before I even laid eyes on Rebecca I spotted the flowing pink hair. She dressed up for me as Super Sonico. She wore a pair of cat-eared headphones. As an outfit she wore a super revealing V-neck shirt along with a pink and white letterman jacket. Her cleavage was on display in full force, but you could tell from the way the huge boobs moved under the shirt and the nipples nudged through the thin white fabric of the shirt that she wore no bra.

She stopped short. Stared at me. “You got a haircut.” I was afraid of what she’d say next, but she laughed and put her hands up to her face. “I love it! I thought I’d never see you with short hair.” 

Dad slammed his hand on my shoulder. “You left him a man and I brought him to you a man.” 

Rebecca came up and shook my father’s hand. “I heard so much about you, too!” 

Ayane was eyeing Rebecca’s clothes. “God, that outfit is slutty.” Her eyes landed on me. “You better watch out for her.” 

“I will.” 

“It’s not that bad,” Rebecca fought back, which was a ridiculous statement given that every movement of her body sent tremors through her soft breasts. God, they were big and bouncy.

“It is,” her mother said. “But I guess” - her eyes found father’s for a split-second - “being slutty runs in the family. Have fun, you guys.”

When we went to the car Rebecca’s eyes lit up. “Damn, you guys have a nice car.” 

“Can’t your dad do any better than a Prius?” my father asked.

The question was direct and embarrassing, but she laughed it off. “We don’t have so much money, and school is a lot…” 

I sat shotgun while Rebecca took the backseat. As we drove and Dad talked to her, I could see his eyes staying with her jiggly breasts nonstop. Apparently eighteen was more than a ripe enough age for his tastes, even if the girl in question was his son’s girlfriend. Though I couldn’t believe how hot she looked, I still couldn't’ shake off Ayane. What a MILF. For some reason, the only thought in my head was that I really wanted Dad to fuck her. To cuck Rebecca’s Chinese dad. That would’ve been great. They needed to know their place.

Along the way my father got all sorts of info out of her about her family, along with the phone numbers of both her parents. I only entered the conversation occasionally, but Rebecca didn’t seem bothered at all to spill all sorts of secrets. “I don’t think my parents get along so well anymore,” she said with an unhappy sigh. 

Dad glanced at the rearview mirror. “Why is that?” 

Rebecca wrapped her arms around her chest and hugged her titcow breasts as if they were a baby. “I guess… They just don’t get along. I don’t know. But they don’t stop fighting.” 

“Well, if you ever want some peace and quiet, you can always come over and live with us.” 

“... Really?” 

“Sure, why not? You and this stoic young man are together already, aren’t you? You’re legally allowed to marry.” 

Rebecca bought into it totally and grinned. She moved forwards between the seats to look at me directly, “Can you imagine that?” 

Her breasts hung from her chest like two ripe, soft melons, wrapped in thin fabric and swaying with the turns of the road. “I sure can.” 

We eventually got to the con at which point my father let us go do our business while he went to burn time. Rebecca invited him, but he refused. “I’ll see what else is out here.”

As we went through the building, I could see all sorts of guys ogling my girlfriend. We were so confused that we had no idea where to go or what to do. “Everyone looks so cool,” said Rebecca. “Do you like how I look?”

“You look just like Super Sonico.” 

She waited a moment, running the comment in her mind, then leaned in and whispered in my ear, her hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “Do my boobs look good?”

“They look amazing…” And for once, I could be totally honest with her about something. 

We bought some stuff and went to a couple of live events. But as the day wore on, more and more people were asking to take pics with Rebecca. At first it was only a few other girls that incorporated her into random shots. But soon enough there were all sorts of guys asking to do the same, just sweaty neckbeards begging me to take a photo of them together. 

I did, and noticed with some anger how all of them were trying to feel her up. Putting their arms over her shoulder or around her waist. The worst of them pulled her in so close that she nearly bumped into his mantits, his arm hanging down so low that the tips of his finger brushed against her tits through the flimsy shirt.

Still, it was a nice day. We left to meet with Dad in the park. When we went there, we saw my father talking to some girl from a distance, also a cosplayer, dressed up as Hatsune Miku. The girl seemed pretty animated, and she laughed and made conversation she would consistently reach out and touch my father’s arm. 

“Should we wait?” Rebecca asked.

“Probably not.” 

The girl introduced herself to us as Mia, and apparently she was a college student from our own town. She had ditched her friends and boyfriend after an altercation and came to relax in the park only to bump into Dad. 

Mia was Asian, but you probably guessed that.

“We’ll give her a ride home,” he told us.

We spent a little more time getting ice cream. Rebecca, Dad, and I all sat down on the bench while Mia went to get it. “So, how was your convention?” 

“Pretty good,” we said. “Tiring.” 

When Mia came back, rather than all of us scooting aside to make room for her on the bench, she casually sat down on my father’s leg. His hand instinctively went to the small of her back, and from there on things just proceeded as normal, even though we all knew it wasn’t. 

On the way back things went a lot more quiet. I sat in the back with Rebecca, while Mia and my father talked hush-hush in the front. It got dark out, and both of us in the back were feeling sleepy. Just as I was about to pass out, I could feel something brushing against my hand. I got scared and pulled away. Only a moment later did I realize it was Rebecca looking to hold it.

“Sorry,” I said.

She pulled away and lowered her gaze. “No, I’m sorry!” 

I knew I could’ve fucked it up forever if I did nothing. So I pushed aside my feelings and grabbed her hand, then held it the rest of the way. Rebecca smiled. 

When we entered the city Dad pulled over by Mia’s dorm to drop her off. She said her goodbyes and got out of the car, but then my father looked at us in the back and said, “I’ll just go walk her and make sure everything is okay.” 

He did not just walk her. They entered the dorm building together. 

After a few minutes Rebecca asked, “Do you think they’re fucking?” 

“I think so.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. On one hand, it was cheating on Mom, and with Rebecca right here to see it to top it all. On the other, it turned me on to see how quickly my father managed to get with all these Asian chicks. How they just submitted to him. Mia probably had an Asian boyfriend that loved her for years and wanted more intimacy with her, and here she was, bringing some sixty-year-old white guy to fuck her stupid in the dorm room. 

I wondered idly if Rebecca was like that. 

“I feel a little bad about it,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought your dad and my mom really hit it off.” 

She did? I thought so too. “Well, this doesn’t mean anything.” 

“What do you mean?”

I knew I needed to save myself. “I mean that… Ayane’s special, he won’t forget her. Just like I wouldn’t forget you.” 

Rebecca squeezed my hand. “That’s sweet. But if you cheated on me I’d kill you.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Good.” 

Even though nothing in particular had transpired I felt something about our interactions had changed. As if she somehow equalized the field, or maybe even got an upper hand. I wasn’t feeling safe anymore. 

“Don’t you get jealous?” Rebecca asked all of a sudden.

“More than you know.” 

“Well… It doesn’t seem that way.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean one of those guys touched my boobs and you didn’t do anything.” Her nails went into my skin as we held hands. “Didn’t you see?” 

The neckbeard that touched her breast. “I guess not. You should tell me next time.” 

“I will. You’re supposed to protect me.” 

Her words made me feel small and insignificant. I wanted to let go of her hand and go home. I wondered what Mom was up to. I should’ve called her. I missed her so much.

“Hey…” said Rebecca after a time. “I didn’t mean to sound so bitchy. I was just scared, and I thought you didn’t care. I just want some reassurance. I put a lot of effort into today and I feel like it didn’t make a difference to you.” 

“Are you kidding? I loved looking at... “ 

Her eyebrows rose. A group of college students were passing on the sidewalk beyond the car window and laughing. “At?” 

“At your boobs,” I concluded sharply. 

Rebecca gave me a warm smile. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear all day. I think your dad liked looking at them too.” 

Just where was she going with that? “I guess he did…”

“Maybe I should give you a little extra.” 

My cock hardened instantly. “I would love that.” 

Rebecca let go of my hand, then glanced outside. Once the coast was clear, she pressed her back against the window, held my eyes, and slowly lifted her shirt. Her chubby tummy came into view first, hanging over her pants, then the bottom of her shirt rose until it revealed the bottom of the pale globes that were here breasts. The fabric bit into the flesh of her tits, sinking deeper and showing off just how soft they were. For a time the tits went up along with the shirt, the underboob raising to reveal the sweaty undersides of her massive tits. Then, in an instant, the shirt went over the tits and they came crashing down, slapping against her torso and jiggling for a few seconds until they settled back into place. 

They were so huge and yet so elegant. There was none of the sag and stretch marks that were common even in breasts half her size. These were eighteen-year-old tits, round and perky despite their crazy size, sitting lewdly on an Asian girl’s disproportionately small frame. Many if not most Asian girls had brown areolas and I was afraid that she would have the same. Instead her nipples were the finest pink, almost like candy, with small areolas that faded into the white skin naturally.

“Do you like them?” she asked me.

“Are you kidding me?” I could barely speak. “They’re fucking amazing.” Especially for some chink.

“Jerk off for me,” whispered Rebecca, and it sounded like an order.

I didn’t want to take out my cock. One of my greatest fears after seeing so much porn was that my cock was simply not up to standards. I knew it wasn’t, because I had measured it years ago and only got four inches. I stopped since, hoping it would grow. I told myself that it had. And yet to take it out and show it to her when she might’ve been expecting some twelve-inch white monster was too embarrassing. It could ruin everything. 

Rather than saying no, I reached inside my pants and struggled to jerk off that way. I couldn’t quite get a grip on it and had no real space to move it up and down. “Take it out,” she suggested. 

“No, people will see.” 

Rebecca shrugged and her boobs jiggled. “Your point?” 

But I pretended not to hear her. I just squeezed my dick hard in my hand, working my way up until I was just pressing my foreskin between my fingers and sending pleasureshocks up my body.

I couldn’t help myself but moan, which made her laugh, but there was no way that could stop me now. She seemed to find my sexual torment amusing and started to massage her breasts softly, showing me how easily they could be squeezed between her fingers, how quickly they yielded to the touch. Fuck, how could they be so soft? 

I came before I even knew I was coming. My eyes rolled and my hand became sticky with cum as a final moan left my lips. By the time I looked back at her, I could see her shirt had been pulled back down. “Good boy,” she said, though I could hear the slight condescension in her voice. 

Yes, things had definitely changed between us now, and she knew it. She had an upper hand.

We didn’t have time to do much talking as Dad showed up a moment later. He was sweaty and huffing badly, and put the BMW into ignition even before he spoke to us. “Sorry, you guys, he wheezed, “but Mia needed some help with her... washing machine.” 

Rebecca giggled darkly. “I hope she enjoys her clean clothes.” 

My father grinned knowingly and glanced back at her. “I’m sure she will.” 

We got Rebecca back to her house and as soon as we pulled over we saw a man step out of it. As if he were waiting. “Shit,” she whispered. “It’s my dad. Uhm… Good night, guys. I think it’s best I go alone.” 

We watched her go and nothing happened. Then, as we drove, I glanced back and saw that he had grabbed her by her jacket and was roughing her up as he dragged her into the house. That’s my fault, I thought, and felt genuinely bad about it for once. Some stupid chink bastard had no authority over my girl.

“She’ll be fine,” said Dad. “You should’ve seen the fight your grandfather put up with your mom.” 

“Why?” 

“Because he said I can’t marry his daughter since I was older than he was. Your mom chose, naturally. He fucked up.” 

In the silence that ensued, Dad took out his phone and thumbed it for a bit, then passed it to me. “How do you like this?” 

It took me a second or two to realize that the girl on screen was Mia from before. She was completely naked here, lying in what I presumed to be her dorm bed. Her thin and frail legs were spread wide open, revealing a shaved pussy. Her nipples seemed bigger than anything else on her flat chest. Her torso was so small it could’ve passed as a child’s, with protruding hip bones and a visible rib cage.

“Go on,” said my dad. “Look.” 

I flicked to go to the next photo, at which point I saw her lying on all fours, her asscheeks spread wide for my father. Next to her, on the nightstand, I could see several pictures. One of her with her boyfriend, the other with her family. They would’ve been proud, no doubt. 

The next was a video. It played automatically, and I could see my father fingering her asshole with his grizzled hand while he held the camera. Mia moaned gently but made no attempt to move. Though she was clearly in pain, she just accepted it. 

[Your Asian boyfriend ever do this to you?] I could tell the voice Dad’s.

[No sir.] 

[Has he ever even fucked you?]

[Not yet…] 

Wow. My dick got hard immediately upon hearing that. She was a virgin? And Dad was… going to ruin her. This white old man was going to take her young Asian pussy for a ride. 

Then I could see her kneeling down in front of Dad, sucking his cock. I had never, ever, seen my father’s cock before this. It came out from under his hairy belly, just a fat uncut cock as thicker than my own wrist, full of what looked like bumps and riddled by thick blue veins. But it didn’t seem that long. Maybe just an inch or two above mine. 

As I watched Mia kissing and struggling to suck the tip into her mouth, I could tell that it was growing. She laughed at how thick it was and how much bigger it was getting by the moment. Somehow, the more it grew, the worse I felt. Like I was no true son of his. By the end of the clip it had gotten big enough for her to hold with both hands and stroke for the camera, smiling like a little kid that just got infinite candy. Licking it with a sensual look in her eyes and preparing to go down to suck on his nuts. It looked absolutely huge against her little yellow face. 

Above ten inches, definitely. A fucking monster of a cock. 

God, how could his be so big? How could my father have such a big cock when mine was so small?

I could hear all of Azula’s recording echoing in my head: Because they’re white gods. We belong to them. 

How right she was. There was no way that pencil-dicked loser could compete with Dad. He should’ve been grateful my father was fucking his girlfriend’s mouth. Seeing those sweet and young Asian lips wrapping around an old white cock was perfection.

Even though I wasn’t fit to do it, the fact that I was the offspring of such an amazing guy made me feel great about myself. He was a total alpha.

“How do you like her?” Dad asked me. “She’s hot isn’t she?” 

“She’s great.” 

“You can save it if you want. You see, kiddo, real men make their own porn. Every woman out there is a pornstar if you’re the director.” 

I wondered if that meant there were videos of Mom somewhere in here. Speak of Cao Cao - she appeared on the screen, calling. My father quickly took the phone before I got a chance to save anything from it. I wanted to ask for it back once he finished, but I was too embarrassed. I hadn’t earned it yet. 

I still couldn’t believe Dad had a cock that big. No wonder Mom loved him. I wondered how it felt to hold it. 

As soon as we got home she greeted us at the entrance. She was all perfumed, her lacquered hair streaming down her back, wearing a skintight black dress with long and clacking heels.

“How was it?” 

“It was fun,” I said.

She snorted. “That’s new from you.” 

Dad took her in his arms and started squeezing her ass hard as they made out. I never got it before today what a nice ass Mom had. Ayane had a nice butt too, but it wasn’t nearly as big or as round. You could tell just by looking at Mom that she was a gym bunny that cared deeply about her looks. Though I couldn’t help the dark feeling that my mother was just another one of those girls. Just another materialistic Asian gold-digger hungry for white cock. Dad was wealthy, well-connected, well-endowed, and over twice her age. Irresistible, I guess.

Rebecca sent no more messages and I figured out must’ve been in trouble. There was no way she would be quiet for so long. For some reason, I needed to tell her about the videos. To share with her. Just remembering her tits was enough to make me hard. Before I appreciated them, but it was more in a status kind of way. I wanted to have a girlfriend with big tits to feel better about myself. But now that I saw them, just within arm’s reach… It wasn’t the same. They were real now. And Dad approved.

My parents opened a bottle of Sauvignon and were in a such a good mood they poured me a glass as well. I hated it. I excused myself and said I was sleepy and went to bed. As I slowly climbed up the stairs, I could hear my mom’s giggles ringing up from the living room. 

This time when I went and got in bed I left the door open. I almost never did that, since my parents always left their own wide open and I wanted to avoid hearing anything. But since my room was around the corner, I made an exception tonight. I got bed and waited. I thought with grim amusement just how ready for action my little four-incher was, compared to how long it took Dad to get his white monster awake. 

It didn’t take long until they came up the stairs, whispering and laughing. All the sounds echoed right into my ears. My father carried her into the bedroom and threw her on the bed. Right after I could hear the springs squealing as he dropped his massive weight onto it. They kissed, and a little after that I could hear his loud grunting and moaning. There was no way he made such satisfied sounds in the video from before. Was Mom that good at sucking his cock? She must’ve been for him to choose her.

Just thinking about what a stupid Asian slut she was drove me crazy. She abandoned her family and everything she knew to come worship Dad’s white cock every night. It was all she needed. Just to wrap those red-red lips around his big white dick and know she was taken care of. What a heartless dumb cunt. She betrayed her race and submitted only for selfish reasons. Only to feel real pleasure, which could only come at the hands of the white man. Stupid chinks and gooks were programmed for it. Made to worship for white men. 

I came buckets at the thought, and I loved her for it. 

