Hey guys, let me take you back to my days in Delhi, where I was grinding through my MBA. In my neighborhood, there was this stunning Filipina woman, Norafe D’Costa, who caught my eye. We connected on Facebook, and soon enough, I was hitting up the park in Defense Colony every morning and evening, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. At 35, Norafe was an absolute bombshell—curves in all the right places, with a face that could pass for a Chinese beauty.
Norafe lived alone, her life a mix of heartbreak and resilience. She’d had a love marriage years ago, but her husband turned out to be a cheating bastard, sleeping around with four or five women. She found out six years into the marriage. For the first year, he was loyal, she told me, but after that, he betrayed her left and right. Two kids later, she kicked him to the curb with a divorce, reclaiming her life.
Our connection grew fast. Norafe was into me, and I started visiting her place regularly. I’d tease her, calling her my “Chinese doll” because of her delicate, almond-shaped eyes and flawless skin. She’d laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Despite her age, she looked youthful, her body tight and tempting. She’d wear these short skirts or jeans with tight tees that showed off her figure, driving me wild.
One evening in the park, while she was jogging, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I grabbed her gently by the arm, looked into her eyes, and said, “Norafe, baby, I love you.” Her smile was electric, and before I knew it, we slipped behind some bushes. My lips found hers, soft and juicy, and we kissed like we were starving for each other. That moment sealed it—I was hooked, drowning in her.
From then on, I spoiled her with gifts, little tokens of my affection, and she reciprocated with warmth that made my heart race. We spoke in English since she didn’t know Hindi, and I was already plotting how to take things further. Her beauty was intoxicating, and I knew she’d give in—she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
One day, I showed up at her place, and she offered me beer, pork, and chicken. At first, I hesitated—pork wasn’t my thing—but I thought, If I want to fuck her tight pussy, I’ve gotta play along. So, I ate the pork, washing it down with beer. After dinner, I played her a Hindi song, and she melted, her eyes lighting up. She told me that in the Philippines, “I love you” is “Mahal kita.”
“Mahal kita, Norafe,” I said, grabbing her hand. She blushed, and I signaled toward the bedroom. She whispered, “After the kids are asleep.” I waited in her bedroom, my cock already throbbing with anticipation. To prep, I slipped into her bathroom, massaged some oil onto my dick, and got ready to give her the ride of her life. I wanted her addicted to me, craving my cock every chance she got.
An hour later, Norafe walked into the bedroom, looking like a fucking goddess in a tight skirt and a low-cut top. I pulled her into my arms, my lips crashing against hers. Her breath was hot, her body soft and inviting. My hands roamed her smooth waist, just above her jeans, and she shivered under my touch. We started making out, tongues dancing in a wild French kiss. Her tongue slid into my mouth, and I lost it, sucking on it, my hands gripping her tighter.
“Ohh, baby…” she moaned, her voice dripping with need. My cock twitched, rock-hard in my pants. My hands slid up to her full, perky tits, squeezing them gently at first, then harder. Norafe never wore a bra, and her nipples were already stiff under her top. I could feel them through the fabric, begging to be touched.
“Baby, let’s make love,” I whispered, my voice thick with lust. She raised her arms, and I peeled off her skirt, revealing her flawless, creamy body. Fuck, she was perfect—curvy, smooth, and built like a dream. I couldn’t control myself. I pulled her close, my lips on her neck, her tits pressing against my chest.
“Norafe, you’re fucking gorgeous,” I growled, my hands grabbing her ass. Compared to Indian women, who can be shy or hesitant, Norafe was open, ready to give herself fully. No shame, no holding back—just pure, raw desire. I asked her, “Baby, you want it quick or slow?”
“Slow…” she purred, her voice sending shivers down my spine. I pushed her against the wall, kissing her hard, my hands exploring every inch of her. I sucked on her tits, her nipples hard and red, unlike the darker ones I’d seen on Indian women. Even after two kids, her breasts were round, juicy, and perfect. I licked and sucked, teasing her nipples with my tongue until she was moaning louder, “Ohh… yes… keep sucking…”
I carried her to the bed, my cock straining against my pants. I unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down to reveal a purple lace thong. The scent of her wet pussy hit me, and I groaned, my mouth watering. I kissed her through the lace, tasting her arousal. “Ohh, baby… what are you doing…” she gasped, her hips bucking.
I grabbed an ice cube from the fridge, running it over her navel. “Fuck… so cold…” she moaned, her body arching. The contrast of the cold ice and her hot skin drove her wild. My fingers slipped under her thong, brushing through her soft pubes until I found her dripping slit. I slid two fingers inside her tight, wet pussy, and she cried out, “Ohh… slow… please…”
Her pussy was a fucking paradise—warm, slick, and gripping my fingers. I fingered her slowly, curling my fingers to hit her sweet spot. “I love you, baby,” I whispered, my lips on hers. She clung to me, her soft tits pressed against my chest, her moans growing louder. My blood was boiling, my cock aching to be inside her.
“Fuck me… now…” she begged, spreading her legs wider. I didn’t take her thong off yet, just kept fingering her, my hand moving faster, like I was digging for treasure. Her pussy was soaked, her juices coating my fingers. “Ohh… yes… harder…” she moaned, her body trembling.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I licked her juices off my fingers—salty, sweet, fucking delicious. “Your pussy tastes so good, baby,” I growled. I ripped off her thong, exposing her gorgeous, hairy pussy. Unlike Indian women who might shave, Norafe’s bush was thick and natural, and I fucking loved it. I dove in, licking her clit, sucking her folds, drinking every drop of her. “Ohh… fuck… lick it…” she screamed, her hands gripping my hair.
I pulled down my pants, my thick cock springing free. She grabbed it, her eyes wide. “Fuck, it’s so big…” she whispered, before taking it in her mouth. Indian women might hesitate, but Norafe sucked my cock like a pro, her lips sliding up and down, her tongue swirling around the tip. “Mmm… so thick…” she moaned, her hands gripping my ass. I held her head, guiding her as she sucked me off, my eyes rolling back in pleasure.
“Why don’t you shave your pussy?” I asked, curious.
“No one’s been fucking me,” she said with a smirk. “Plus, in the Philippines, we keep the hair—it protects the pussy from bacteria. Shaving gives me rashes.”
“Fuck it, I’ll take you like this,” I said, positioning my cock at her entrance. Her pussy was tight, untouched for years, and my cock struggled to slide in at first. But once I was in, it was like plugging into heaven. “Ohh… fuck… it’s big…” she moaned, clutching a pillow to her chest.
I started slow, each thrust deep and deliberate. “Slap… slap…” Her pussy was so tight, gripping my cock like a vise. “Ohh… fuck… it’s so thick…” she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut. I picked up the pace, pounding her harder, the bed creaking under us. “Slap… slap… slap…” Her moans filled the room, her pussy getting wetter with every thrust.
“Harder… fuck me harder…” she begged, her nails digging into my back. I fucked her like a man possessed, my cock slamming into her, hitting her deepest walls. Her pussy was slick, her juices greasing my cock perfectly. “Ohh… baby… your cock’s so deep…” she screamed, her pussy clenching around me.
I could feel her getting close, her body trembling. “One… two… three…” I counted, slamming into her with brutal thrusts. “Slap… slap… slap…” She screamed, her pussy spasming as she came, her juices flooding around my cock. I kept going, my body tense, but I wasn’t done yet. Her body was unreal—smooth, marble-like, fucking perfect.
I flipped her over, lifting her ass in the air. Her round, creamy cheeks were begging to be fucked. I spread her legs, sliding my cock back into her dripping pussy. “Ohh… fuck… yes…” she moaned, pushing back against me. I fucked her doggy-style, my hands gripping her hips, her ass bouncing with every thrust.
Then I pulled out, wanting to prolong her pleasure. I laid her on her back, spreading her legs wide for missionary. My cock slid back in, and I fucked her slow and deep, watching her tits bounce with every thrust. “Slap… slap… ohh… baby…” she moaned, her hands clutching the sheets.
I could feel my own release building. I pulled out, straddling her chest. “Suck it, baby,” I said, sliding my cock into her mouth. She sucked hungrily, her fingers stroking my shaft. After a few minutes, I couldn’t hold back. “Fuck… take it…” I groaned, my cock exploding in her mouth. Unlike Indian women, who might shy away, Norafe swallowed every drop, her eyes locked on mine.
We went at it two more times that night—doggy again, then missionary, each time more intense than the last. “Slap… slap… ohh… fuck me harder…” she begged, her pussy taking everything I gave her.
Guys, that night with Norafe was unreal. Have you ever fucked a foreign beauty like that? Share your stories below!