Forgive my bedhead.

May Ling Su bedhead in sheer tank top you can see her nipples through
snapchat: maylingsu

I’ve been fostering a pregnant cat that some heartless people abandoned at the shelter. She’s a scared little thing, so confused about what’s happening to her body and untrusting of any human. I don’t blame her. You fuck real good once and you’re in trouble forever. Can you imagine being kicked out of your home just when you need one the most? She’s been under the couch most of the time. Once in a while I coax her out with kitty treats. She gently takes it from the tip of my fingers with her tiny teeth. So cute!

Lately she started lounging out in the open, but darted back under the couch as soon as anyone moved. On Autumn Equinox this weekend she spent the entire day and night under the couch. Around ten o’clock, while I was troubleshooting the Raspberry Pi I set up, I heard peeps from under the couch. Kittens!

May Ling Su booty shorts
snapchat: maylingsu

She came out later, her crotch wet so I knew for sure she had given birth. Kitty Mama cleaned herself, drank and ate a lot, then relaxed on her bed. I took the opportunity to take a peek under the couch. One tiny baby kitten.

Pussy Mama Cat

I stayed up late with my Kitty Mama, rubbing her body and telling her she did good. She was so hungry for affection, the sweet thing. Before going to bed, I peeked at the baby again. It wasn’t moving. I got scared. What if it’s dead? Pussy KittenI reached out and touched it. It squeaked. It was warm. I was relieved, but only slightly. What if the Mama rejects it now that I’d touched it? I dream worried dreams now. A little lifeless kitten, kittens running amok, my rat terrier getting in through the French doors and eating the little kitten. Moms… Moms worry.

Prior to this I’d been having frustrating dreams. Dreams that ended before they began. I dreamed about my first lover. The first boy I ever fell in love with growing up in the Philippines. We were hanging out with other people, not speaking to each other, just there, trying to keep it cool but wanting so badly to reach out and touch him. Finally we were alone but before we could say one thing the dream was over. I was awake. What a cruel trick awakening is!

May Ling Su in sheer white tank top takes off her shorts

Another time I dreamed about my high school best friend and me walking by a beach in the Philippines with a couple of boys I don’t believe I’ve met in real life. She ripped her clothes off and jumped in the water. The boys undressed and followed. I fumbled for the buttons on my shirt. I wanted to go skinny dipping, too, but the buttons seemed to take forever to undo. I woke up before I could get my shirt off.

May Ling Su in sheer white tank top you can see her nipples through hiding her pussy no panties

I have someone who tells me constantly that he dreams about me. He says he wakes up hard as a rock and has to get himself off in the bathroom.

What about you? What do you dream about?

Love, Lust, & Liberty,
May Ling Su

P.S. It’s 13 days till my birthday. If you like me and appreciate my birthday nudes, send me a present. Thank you! 💋

Yasss, twitter.

It’s 20 days till my birthday and those of you who’ve known me for at least over a year know what that means. Every year on my birthday I take a nude photo to celebrate being born naked, yes, but also it’s a record of how my body has changed through the years. This year will be my 19th annual birthday nude. 19!!! Some of you weren’t even born yet when I started taking these nudes.

If you want to send me a present (I love presents!) I’m going to add items to my wishlist on Amazon daily to give you an idea of what makes me smile. The presents I added today have something to do with this little anecdote I’m about to share with you, so go take a peek at my wishlist, then come back for the rest of this post.

Did you see it? Alright, here goes…

I was driving a long winding road in the White Mountains and singing along to The Breeders – All Nerve turned up really loud.

I won’t stop! I will run you down!

Suddenly a red fox crossed the road right in front of me, waving its pretty white tail. My heart slowed, then sped up, then pounded hard. The fox stopped to look back at me before it disappeared into the woods past the other side of the road, oblivious to how awestruck I was by its wild beauty.

My giddiness ended abruptly when I saw police lights in my rearview mirror. Shit. I turned The Breeders down. I stopped, reached for my registration out of the glove compartment, my license out of my purse. The cop was at my window faster than I expected him to be.

“Hi, officer! Did you see that fox?” I handed him my documents.

“Yeah!” He smiled, looked over my license and registration. He looked pretty good himself. Young country cop, sexy navy blue uniform, bright ginger hair.

“I’ve never seen a fox in broad daylight before,” I kept talking, spread my legs nonchalantly, gave the cop a view of my smooth creamy thighs, black lacy panties peeking out of a black miniskirt printed with little yellow sunflowers. “Have you, officer?” I looked up at him expectantly.

He grinned. “No, not like this one.”

There was nothing on either side of the road but forests. There wasn’t a house for miles. I felt vulnerable, excited, scared. I think he did, too. He didn’t look like the type of cop who would routinely abuse his power. He seemed like a model citizen, with his high school sweetheart wife and 2.5 kids, a house with a white picket fence. The kind of guy who goes to his small town church on Sundays. Also the kind of guy who may not get a chance to act out his basest fantasies, ever, much less with an experienced woman of exotic origin.

I wondered what it would be like to suck his cock. Was it pink like his cheeks? Was he waiting for me to make a bolder move? Or would I scare him the way a bold move may scare a wild animal? How would he react to fear? Is it worth it to find out?

His gun sat silently in its holster.

“Slow down on these roads a bit, okay?” He handed my documents back and was gone as quickly as he showed up at my car window.

Sometimes life only gives us a chance to connect in the briefest of moments. In big cities we brush up against so many people, overwhelm our senses with music and food and media, and grow numb. Out there on a lonely road in the middle of the woods, my nerves tingled.

Love, Lust, & Liberty,
May Ling Su

Sexy Asian Aunt Visits the Farm

May Ling Su in a barn

Uncle Tim came home with a dead deer in the back of his truck. There was already one hanging upside down in his barn, but it was his brother’s. Uncle Tim is the man when it comes to field dressing deer. I remember a few Thanksgivings back when he bagged a hermaphrodite deer. He called it “queer deer” (pronounced kwee’ yah dee’ yah around these parts). I took photos, asked questions, no judgement. Uncle Tim seemed to enjoy my company. He entertained my questions and didn’t mind me taking pictures. I’d been in the family a long time but I know I’ll always be foreign to him.

A 14-year-old niece asked my advice on modeling, photography, and how to get her swollen lip to go down. She had gotten a piercing above the left side of her lip. Last summer she also asked my advice on eyebrow issues; first when she had shaved them off, drawn them on with a pencil, and given her face a surprised look; then when she had drawn them so thick they looked sharpied on. She may have found a happy medium with the eyebrows since then. Or maybe I didn’t notice on account of her fat lip.

“I brought my homemade mini pumpkin pies. Gluten-free!” I offered her. I made a batch every year.

“Oh my god, I love you!” She hugged me as she stuffed one in her mouth.

bulge in pants, not Dylan16-year-old Dylan also came up for a hug. He had grown from a chubby boy with Freddie Mercury teeth to a young man with short blonde hair, braces, and a hot bod! Call me a perv, but his good looks are not lost on me. The hug felt good. I walked right into his arms. He wrapped them around my back and squeezed.

“Auntie May, would you like to see my football videos?” he asked.

I glanced at his mother, an overweight blonde woman a few years younger than me but looking haggard. She sat on the other side of the room, clutching at her yappy little pomeranian, while she sobbed about her dog that died last summer. Her pomeranian upchucked a piece of turkey right onto one of the guests. A ruckus of cleaning up and apologies ensued.

“Sure!” I sat on the couch next to him as he pulled up junior varsity football game videos on his laptop. I became self-conscious of my minidress being a tad too short. His fingers tapped on his muscled thighs, dangerously close to mine. We watched his videos together. I heaped praise on his moves and watched him blush.

I’m aware of my “sexy aunt” status. Being asian and married to a white man makes me an “other” in his family; a hot exotic creature they can fix their fantasies on without feeling incestuous. I kinda like it. It feels good to be desired. And when I’m alone with my man I tell him I’m going to hire Dylan to mow our lawn this summer. I’m going to watch him peel his sweaty shirt off as he pushes the lawnmower around our backyard. I tell him I’m going out in a sheer little sundress, no bra, no panties, to bring the boy an ice cold lemonade. I whisper all the many naughty things I’m going to do. Whether I actually do it or not is beside the point. It makes my man hard to hear about it. It’s our connection together on a fantasy so immediate and so naughty that matters.

Did you have a sexy aunt when you were growing up? What fantasies did you have of her? Tell Auntie May all about it.

Love, Lust, and Liberty,
May Ling Su

Just a stupid chink’s opinion

Have you seen this?

A white woman yelled “Go back to China!” at an asian man on the street. He turned around and yelled back at her, “I was born in America!” The asian man happens to be New York Times deputy Metro editor, Michael Luo, who then wrote an open letter to the offending woman. He also started a twitter conversation about Asian-Americans’ experience of racism, #thisis2016.

Most of it sounds like petty playground taunting. The fact that an asian man can confront his abuser and write about it later on the New York Times shows he has power. Had it been a black man doing the same thing, he would have been shot dead on the sidewalk before he even opened his mouth. Had it been a Muslim doing the same thing, s/he would have been labeled a terrorist and taken away, never to be seen on the face of the earth. I’m exaggerating, of course, but not by much and you know it.

I do have a problem with people assuming “victim” status. I’m not talking about real assault here. I’m talking about words thrown about carelessly on one hand, and hypersensitivity to certain keywords on the other. On the playground, if you let a bully see your weakness, the bully wins. Remember, the best defense is offensive. Here are a few suggestions for snappy come-backs to racist comments:

  • People talk “ching chang chong” around you? Don’t act all hurt. “Ching chang chong” back at them. Incessantly, like you’re their new best friend. “You-me-ha-ha!” I’m pretty sure it’ll weird them out enough to stop, or if they have a sense of humor they’ll actually laugh at you and themselves and the whole situation in general.
  • Someone call you Bruce Lee? Say thanks, it’s an honor. The man is a god! Then whip out some karate chops. You don’t know karate? Just make shit up. Racists are stupid. They won’t know the difference.
  • Someone tell you your English is perfect? Say, “Thanks! Yours needs work.”
  • Someone ask about your slanted vagina? Say, “Yes, and I’m another slanted vagina you’ll never get to fuck.”
  • Someone tell you to go make chinese food? Take their money to go.
  • Someone wants to kick your butt back to China? Kick their butt back to Ireland. Not from Ireland? Who cares? I’m not from China!

See what I’m getting at? Asians can out-racist the racists. We’ve had plenty of experience. East Asians think they’re better than South and South-East Asians. Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans don’t like each other either. Singaporeans and Hong Kong Chinese hate Filipinos.

If there is anything #thisis2016 has shown me, it’s that Asian Americans are racist against Asian-Asians. They’re saying, “How dare you lump me in with immigrants and international students who don’t speak English well or at all! How dare you compare me to low life sex workers, maids, nurses, delivery boys, cooks… I’m better than them! I’m American!!!”

I’m a naturalized American citizen originally from the Philippines. I’m a college graduate and my American English is impeccable. But you know what? I put on a mock Asian accent and race play with white men. Why? Because it’s naughty. Because I like Asians, yes, including the whores, the maids, the nurses, the delivery boys, the cooks… I am them and they are me. Because calling myself racist slurs does not threaten my racial dignity any more than being a sexual submissive threatens my feminism.

How does your hard white cock feel about that? Love me long time, Joe?

May Ling Su asian on the menu

Love, Lust, and Liberty,
May Ling Su