[19m/26f] An *explosive* first impression.

*I’ve posted one story about S before [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4hc8zn/19m26f_a_very_happy_ending/). I was very tempted to call this “S: Origins”, because it’s the story of how we first met. This one runs quite long, I’m afraid. Settle down and grab a hot beverage.*

*****

Getting an OKCupid account was an *awful* idea, or at least it felt like one at the time. If anyone ever asks, I tell them my ex made me do it, which is only half true – she made me do the personality test because she was keen to see what I registered as (turns out my highest trait is “kinky” and my lowest is “wholesome”, go figure). Actually having a go at using it, a few months out of a very messy breakup and feeling a little lonely in a circle of friends where most people had two or three partners, was entirely my call, and, in hindsight, it was a much better one than I thought.

She was one of the first people who came up on my feed once I’d fleshed out my profile. She was a very high match for me, well over 90%, and we seemed to share similar interests: we were both amateur writers who had a hard time mustering the willpower to put pen to paper, both history students (though she’d just finished her degree), and both unabashedly nerdy about our respective hobbies (books in her case, tabletop in mine). I didn’t get a response for a day or so, but once she did reply we hit it off almost immediately. We traded messages for about three weeks before finally deciding to meet up at a board games pub near where I live.

*****

**February 8th**

We sit down, grab a couple of drinks and Carcassonne, and within a couple of hours I’m hooked. I can’t tell whether she is too, but she’s smiling a lot and we keep drifting into these happy silences where we just look at each other. We end up taking a walk around my neighbourhood, finding a good bench to sit on, and we’re making out like frenzied teenagers before I even know what’s going on.

**Ten frantic, passionate minutes later**

“This is the part where I offer to take you back to mine for ‘coffee’.” The air-quotes are audible.

That has me slightly floored. I’d never consider propositioning someone on the first date, if only because I’m constantly terrified of misreading signals. “I mean…”

“Only, there’s a super religious friend staying in my room at the moment, so I can’t tonight.”

I shrug, she laughs, and we keep on kissing until her last train home arrives. I get more or less no sleep that night. I later learn that she doesn’t either.

*****

**February 9th**

We text all through the following day, trying to work out when we can next meet up – I’m at uni and she’s at work but I doubt either of us have a very productive time of it. Eventually we agree to go eat together on Sunday, and in the meantime we suppose we’ll just have to keep in touch.

Just as I get out of my final lecture of the day, I get another message, telling me she’s unexpectedly free for a while tonight and can recommend a pub near her house for dinner. I agree in a heartbeat, make my excuses and leap on the next tube out east. She’s waiting for me when I arrive, and tells me that, while she’s happy to go out for dinner if I want to, her friend’s out this evening so her place is free for a few hours and we *could* just order in.

No-brainer.

We order pizza and pick things up where we had to leave off last night, lying side by side on her bed and kissing like we haven’t seen each other in weeks. Hands start to wonder. Mine is up her shirt and hers is on my butt and suddenly my shirt’s off somehow? So we’re pretty clearly going to have sex, right? So it’s perfectly fine if I reach down between her legs and fucking hell she’s already more than a little bit excited and this is happening and then *the fucking doorbell rings*.

The pizza guy looks a little fazed by my shirtless self answering the door, but says nothing.

**One very hastily eaten pizza later**

“Easy on the lower back…” I know my own weaknesses. There is a very particular spot right in the small of my back that’s an instant on switch for me, and she’s found it already.

“How come?” She’s going to keep doing it. I can see it in her eyes. *Fuck.*

“Might not be able to hold back,” I tease, though it’s truer than she knows. I can smell her want and it’s driving me crazy – it’s not even lust for her as a person, I don’t want to fuck her right now, I just *need to make her cum*.

She lifts her hand away, and then brushes her fingers, featherlight, against that exact spot. I look her dead in the eye.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I push her a quarter-turn onto her back, shift down and yank down her panties – her dress is still on, but this is all I need. “I c-” she begins, and for a moment I hesitate, but she pushes me gently in and I honestly can’t argue that.

Normally I start slow when I give head. Take a while with long, slow strokes around the outside to get my partner good and worked up and then, when they can take no more, shift up to the clit, push a finger or two in and go for the kill. In this case, it’s abundantly clear from the way she’s *dripping* onto the sheets that she needs a slightly more direct approach. So I wrap my lips around her clit, already swollen and aching, and take it gently into my mouth, suckling on it while I slip two fingers into her and curl them upwards, aaaaand, judging by the way she just shook and moaned out loud, looks like I hit my spot.

In four minutes flat, she’s got her fingers tangled up in my hair and is pulling my face hard into her crotch as she bucks up against me in ecstasy.

I draw back slowly and lick my lips. I’m still curious: “What were you going to say?”

“I can’t usually get off from oral.” Guess I got lucky? Again, I’m hardly going to complain.

“What *does* get you off?”

She smirks.

“Getting fucked.”

**One lightning-fast disrobing later**

My sweat is starting to mingle with hers, her legs are wrapped around my back, and I haven’t felt this amazing in a very, *very* long time.

She’s bucking up against me every time I push forward into her, and between us we get into a feedback loop that slowly but surely ramps up the pace. Suddenly she loosens her arms from around my back and throws them to her sides; for a moment I’m confused, but all she has to do is whisper “pin me” and I’m holding her wrists firm against the mattress and slamming into her with renewed vigour.

She starts to tense up for a few seconds at a time in a way that seems awfully familiar… no. *Surely* she can’t get off just from this. No way.

Turns out she can.

Her climax hits both of us like an express train and I find myself easing my torso backward to bury myself to the hilt as the paroxysms begin, and for a precious moment, as she screams my name into my shoulder, I feel like a fucking *deity*.

But soon afterwards I feel the inexorable build of my own climax, and she’s not going to let me hold back either; she wrests her hands free and grabs me by the hips, pulling me right up inside her in a way that hits all my spots… and my first orgasm in almost a week bursts free with a force that leaves me momentarily dizzy, balling my fists in her hair and hyperventilating as I spend myself.

It’s a couple of minutes before either of us can move again. I throw a few clothes back on and grab us both a drink from her kitchen, and she checks the time. An hour until her friend comes home. She gives me that same look she gave just before I went down on her.

“Again?”

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4iqcbw/19m26f_an_explosive_first_impression

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