"Really? You've never been on a date with an Asian girl before? I'm the first one?"

You look incredulous at me after I admit it: I'm an Asian guy who, somehow, has never been with an Asian girl. Your surprise makes sense, I mean I'm not a weirdo neet incel or anything. I work out; I have a fairly successful career. I have a healthy body count. Your friends have even described me as "a catch".

We're at a bar, and I'm looking around a little nervously, not wanting to be overheard by the other patrons. How we got onto this topic on our very first date, I don't know. But we're here now.

You pick up on my brief anxiety and lean in closer.

"Want to change that?" You offer with a grin and a slight twinkle in your eye.

Of course, before we start . . . making changes, we have a conversation that builds up to the main event. We talk about Asian-American identity, fetishism, sexual dynamics, kinks, stereotypes, grievances. I want to know about your sexual past. Got anything to confess to me?

I mean, we all know the stereotypes, right? Well, maybe one way of getting rid of them is to just talk about them.

And once we have that out of the way . . .

You know that Steven Yeun/Ali Wong tv show Beef? There's scene in it where Ali Wong and Young Mazino go absolutely crazy on each other. (If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it) Anyway, I want to create that kind of sweaty, passionate Asian-on-Asian scene for myself. If that takes a long, winding build up for us to mentally prepare for the hot, sweaty release - than so be it, I'd look forward to it.

If you're going to be my first Asian, just know that I've got decades of repression boiled up inside that I cannot wait to unleash upon you. Ideally, you do as well and can reciprocate in kind.

Nails scratching on my back, beads of sweat collecting on our foreheads, fistfuls of hair grabbed, the lewd sound of flesh slapping against each other. Filling you up; stretching you out; reclaiming our identities by force. Yum.