2 [m]onths of online [f]oreplay culminate (gonewild hook-up)

It all started with innocent enough flirting and sexting, but quickly progressed to more… intimate interactions.

I’m married. 5’1, 100lbs, brown hair, brown eyes, late 20’s. Boredom and horniness sometimes lead me to checking out /r/ladybonersgw. Usually, I just look. But sometimes I send flirtatious approvals, if I feel so moved.

One evening, I was perusing the online eye candy when one poster caught my attention. I sensed a mischievous glint in his eye, the cheeky title and his pose made me think he’d be fun to chat with. He doesn’t take it too seriously… good. And obviously I thought he was hot: dark hair, green eyes, and a cute butt.

I responded to his post with one simple sentence plus two links to pictures of myself showing off my own assets.

I receive a quick reply; he seems pleased with my bold response. We continue flirting via orange envelopes for a couple of days, exchanging pictures and videos and links and telling each other the things we’d do to each other. Soon, we move on to Skype and have even more fun with that. This continues for some time. I was right: he’s fun.

I tell him that it’s a good thing we don’t live closer to each other, because I know we’d get into trouble. Lots of trouble. I’m married, and he has a girlfriend. I’m sure those two wouldn’t appreciate the naughty fun I imagine we’d have.

Soon I realize I have reason to visit his part of the country. I tell him and ask if he’d pick me up from the airport and maybe show me around. He says he would. We craft a fantasy. One is that he’ll pick me up from the airport. I’ll wear a dress or maybe a skirt, but won’t tell him what’s underneath. We continue describing what would happen once I’m inside his car.

Fast forward – past some intense (perhaps with a bit of masturbating..) Skype sessions, more fantasy creation, and lots of anticipation building. He’s smart, creative and knows how to write, making the exchanges far more enjoyable. There are a few fantasies that we craft which become detailed.
At some point, I find a /r/gonewildstories post by two /r/gonewild posters who met to hook up. I send him a link to the story and tell him to read it. I tell him I’m certain that ours will be better.

We continue counting down, reminding each other how many days until he picks me up from the airport. I model for him a variety of panties I could be wearing when I sit down in the passenger seat of his car. Crotchless, thong, g-string, booty shorts…

Travel day arrives. My plane lands. He can’t make it. He tells me, “tomorrow.” Tomorrow comes and goes, and he can’t make it, either. He tells me, again, “tomorrow.”

The third day is gorgeous. I text him to confess that I “misbehaved” the previous night: I fucked a random guy from Craigslist casual encounters. I hope he’s turned on by it. His later texts make me think he might actually show up this time. “I keep imagining pulling up your dress” “And pulling your underwear down around your knees.” I can only respond: “ If i was wearing any today. I accidentally tore my tights when i was putting them on today. What’s another tear?” I send a picture of myself lifting up my dress to reveal a tear in the nylon at the top of my thigh. His response: “I want you…”

He shows up that night in his car. I see it, but hang back a minute to gain my bearings. I approach, noticing both front windows are completely down. I lean over into the car and tell him in a disapproving tone, “Sir, there’s no parking here,” to catch him off guard.

I open the door, sit down, and put my seatbelt on. He tells me there’s a place he wants to take me. We are driving around, trying to find parking for this place. I keep my hands to myself, and we make small talk. I show him the tear in my tights, very briefly. I make a phone call (I’m a jerk, a tease, nervous, or all three). My arm makes it to the armrest, where it meets his. Still talking on the phone, he’s still driving. Arms shift, and I grasp his hand, tapping my fingers into his palm. More playing with than holding. Still on the phone, still driving. I shift in my seat, bringing my legs up. He touches one, rubbing my thigh, his hand making its way closer to my pussy.
At some point, I’ve ended the phone call. He’s still driving.

Eager for his touch, I shift in my seat again. He runs his hand over my damp tights, seeking the pussy he had seen but never touched. My left hand has somehow made its way to his thigh, slowly running my hand over his jeans. It creeps closer to his inner thigh. He becomes more bold, his hand seeking to make its way around the nylon. The tights are high waisted, and he slowly grasps for the top. I’m impatient, and guide his hand to the tear in the fabric, which he uses.

I moan as his fingers find my lips, and I shift in my seat. Reaching across the car, I found his hard cock and began slowly and gently rubbing my hand across it over his jeans. I unbutton his top button with one hand. He helps with the rest until I see that his hard cock has emerged, seeking attention. I touch it, lightly, rub it a little. I recall that this is playing out like one of the scenarios we had imagined in our “play sessions,” and proceed accordingly, taking my seatbelt off. My head dives into his lap, taking his cock into my mouth. At some point, my tights are pulled down to my knees, and the light evening breeze feels cool on my bare ass, exposed to anyone who might look over into the car as we drive down the streets and highways. I continue working his cock with my mouth, licking, sucking, gagging, jerking, twisting and moaning as he makes me cum with his fingers, rubbing my clit and fingering my pussy. He’d grab my hair while my face was in his lap, the left side of my face resting against his stomach.

He moans and encourages and tells me how wet my pussy is and how good my mouth feels on his cock. And that I know what I’m doing. I remind him I said I enjoyed it.

I realize my mouth is getting dry, and emerge from his lap at a red light to kiss him. His mouth isn’t dry, and he kisses me hard, eager. I take his face in my hands, feeling his beard, wanting him so badly. I’m wishing he’d pull over so we could breathlessly rush into a hotel seeking a room to have our way with each other for the rest of the night. But I’m married. And my credit card statement is open for review, so I’m not volunteering, and I don’t know where he’s taking me. Perhaps he’s thinking the same. We continue on like this, and I realize I’ve been in the car for over an hour. I haven’t been tracking, but it’s possible I’ve been sucking his cock for half an hour or more. The red-light kissing breaks continue as we get further from the core of the city. I softly kiss the right side of his neck, and run my fingers over the back of his neck, and into his hair. He moans, and tells me how badly he wants to bury his cock in my tight, wet pussy and how good it’ll feel. He tells me he wants to taste me.

Soon he pulls the car into a parking lot. He tells me about where we are, and there’s not a person or security vehicle in sight. He settles on a parking spot, away from the entrance, and away from the lights.

He’s rushing, moving quickly, taking his seatbelt off, diving towards my lap, eager for a better taste of my pussy. I remind him to turn the car off, “oh yeah, good idea,” as if it hadn’t occurred to him. I recline my seat and prepare to feel his beard inside my thighs.

I realize how uncomfortable this is going to be, him leaning over from the driver’s seat while I’m in the passenger seat. He’s tall and I’m small; his frame doesn’t quite contort and flex like mine.

I tell him at least the back seat might be more comfortable. He agrees. He gets out, moves some things from the backseat into the trunk. I quickly bring the seat upright, which smacks me in the face, momentarily stunning me and snapping me back to reality. I hope he doesn’t notice, but laugh to myself at my clumsiness. I deserved it for being so frantic.

He walks around to my passenger door and extends his hand to help me get out. This, combined with smacking myself in the face, makes me laugh out loud. We had literally just met, I just sucked his cock for god knows how long and now he’s being chivalrous. It feels a bit backwards – my casual sluttiness flying in the face of the fairytale storylines we’re fed. My response was a smirking, “so romantic.” But I take his hand and he helps me out of the car.

I’m against the car and we’re kissing and his pants are down and I feel his cock between my thighs. We’re kissing and touching and I’m still in my dress, wearing my bra. His hands make his way into my dress, uncovering a tit from behind my black bra. I moan as he kisses it and touches the other.

He holds me up against the car again and slides inside of me, my hand guiding his cock into my ready pussy.

Then he’s holding me up and fucking me, my feet over his shoulders, my arms around his neck. I moan and try to tell him how good it is but I don’t know if anything coherent comes out.

He turns me around and fucks me from behind, I’m standing on my tip-toes, desperate for his cock, almost apologizing for my short stature. I’m fairly flexible, so I lift up my right leg to make things easier on us both.

Then we actually get on the ground, on a raised patch of grass surrounded by curb. It’s a gorgeous night, and despite the city’s light pollution I can see stars.

He’s on his back in the grass and I’m riding him. One of my bare knees is rubbing against the curb, and I feel the abrasion but am not motivated enough by the discomfort to readjust.
He tells me his girlfriend has no idea that his cock is buried in my pussy now. Do I remind him my husband has no idea that I’ve fucked two guys on this trip? Instead I tell him, confidently, “I don’t care,” because I don’t.

I tell him we’re pushing our luck continuing in this parking lot, and he agrees. I pick the keys up from the ground where he hastily threw them. We get in the car. He starts driving again and we end up driving around again back toward the city. We talk about what we could do the next day. We’re near my place, but circumstances keep me from inviting him in.

I check in with him via text. He thinks we should call it a night, and he’s excited for tomorrow’s plan. I’m disappointed but buoyed by the promise of further adventures. I ask if he needs a goodnight kiss. I need to grab a couple things I left in his car, anyways. I go back down, get in the car and kiss him. My hands touching his face, my fingers running through his hair, lips kissing his neck, nibble his ear, and my hand massaging the back of his neck and shoulder, while I kiss him. It goes on like this for at least fifteen minutes before we finally are able to pull ourselves away from each other and call it a night.

In the shower the next morning I notice some minor red bumps on my knee and smile, thinking back to the curb. My back hurts, too, probably because I was in his lap for far longer than I realized (30 minutes? 40 minutes? who knows)…

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4bdnhw/2_months_of_online_foreplay_culminate_gonewild