[FM] Why Didn’t I try his cock sooner

I’m not sure what compelled me to actually have lunch with John, or in hindsight why I never spared much time for him in the past. Actually I know the justification of why I did, but it seems foolish based on what I’m about to describe. In any case, a little background. We met when we were both doing our postdocs in Boston, we were both in the same building but worked for different labs. Instead of meeting in the traditional way, I had a plushie hanging off my backpack that had fallen off, and he had picked it up and called out to stop me. I turned around and he assumed that I was more alert and coordinated that I actually was. In a surprisingly smooth motion, he knelt down, picked up and tossed the plushie back to me only to hit me in the face with it and managed to stumble forward and catch it again before it hit the floor.

I was kind of stunned with embarrassment and though I don’t know what exactly the shade of red I was, I imagined that I was probably bright red given how hot my face felt. The next thought that crossed my mind was the fact that he looked incredibly young. Now I know that Asian guys generally look like they’re twelve way into their twenties but damned did he look like a twelve year old. I was also a bit sensitive about my age because I knew that I was probably ten years older than the rest of the postdocs having worked for a while before getting sick of my job and going back to school for my PhD. However, he kind of ignored my embarrassment and started a good natured introduction of himself.

Over the course of the next year, we saw each other on the shuttle bus, around the lab, in the cafeteria that kind of stuff. He asked me out for lunch/dinner a few times especially when he found out that our apartments were rather near each other. Most of the time I turned him down, he seemed far too young for me.

I did go out to dinner with him once. Again it was one of those decisions that I’ll never understand why I did. I was having my period, suffering from rather painful cramps, but decided that maybe for his persistence I’d humor him a bit and have dinner with him. And if you are ever suffering for any physical pain, he’s the worst person to visit you in the hospital. He had me laughing hard enough that it would be painful in the best of days, and on that particular day the pain was excruciating that tears were coming out of my eyes. So it was an odd date for me, physically painful but still enjoyable.

He offered to walk me home which I declined, and I shuffled home clutching my stomach. My roommate looked at me and asked if someone had attacked me saying that I looked terrible. That night however, before bed, despite my period, I needed to masturbate, having been wound up too tight. I wasn’t thinking of him in particular but I don’t doubt that the intensity of my orgasm was somehow linked with my rather painful date with him.

However, despite that after that date I tried to avoid him as much as possible. I was doing my postdoc hoping to become a professor. I was not the kind of girl to lose her head over a boy. Besides I had a boyfriend back home in China. He was still friendly, said hi even though he got the sense that I’d probably never take him seriously. He left about a year later partway through his postdoc having found what he called a real job.

He still sent emails every once in a while saying hi, or that he was in Boston for work and wondered if I wanted to get lunch or dinner. Eventually he got married, and added that tidbit in as, lunch/dinner as friends. I had let it slip previously that I wasn’t big on social events focused primarily on research and getting a faculty position. He joked that I should be like him and join the dark side of industry.

Six years later I was still doing my postdoc. Apply to faculty positions but striking out completely. As a natural introvert, I wasn’t exactly unhappy, after all scientific research is fun. Went on a few dates, had a few short term boyfriends but pretty much settled in the fact that I’d end up as a spinster. Not that it bothered me all that much. I didn’t much want a family and guys come and go, no one really making much of a lasting impression on me that overcame the aggravation of spending too much time with someone and having them leave dirty socks on your bed.

He was again in Boston for business, and sent the perfunctory email. This time I replied, though I did ask the question of why he sent me an email every time. His reply was that he generally sent emails to everyone he knew in a given city since he hated looking like the odd guy having dinner by himself, and if he couldn’t find someone to have dinner with it was a lonely night at the hotel restaurant or finding the nearest fast food joint.

He was in Boston for the week to do work for a client and said that any time I wanted to get dinner was fine. His comment was, “I love Boston, but everyone always ends up leaving.” I knew the feeling. Sometimes I felt that the only permanent members of my lab were me and the professor I worked for.

I didn’t wear anything in particular for dinner. It’s winter and it’s cold. Basically I wore a sweatshirt and jeans. He showed up in in a shirt and tie, standard business attire, though it seemed that it had been a tough day. His shirt was rumpled and he had already loosened his tie. He didn’t look quite so odd as he did when he was a postdoc. His face had filled out a bit. He was quite broad before, due to him being in his words a bad rower in college who was on the rowing machine more than a real boat, and with a slightly chubbier face it seemed a bit more proportioned.

Dinner at least with him was pretty friendly. He showed me pictures of his kids and basically at this point, I had expected that dinner with him was a way to pass an evening without resorting to the TV. Told amusing stories of needing to change diapers and all that stuff. Dinner ended and he said the perfunctory good to see you again and asked if I wanted someone to walk me home. This time I said sure.

As we walked back to my apartment, we passed by his hotel. I asked him if he wanted to grab some coffee, to which he responded, “Sure but let me Skype with my daughter first.” I went up to his hotel room with him, a part of me wondering whether I’d be getting fucked that night, but also discounting it because he was married and taking the time to talk to his daughter. Besides I certainly was not that kind of girl. His company had rented him a suite and so I was in the living room while he was in the bedroom skyping with his family.

He wasn’t using headphones and I could hear his wife berate him for forgetting to do X, Y and Z and him saying, “All right, all right.” He came out and smiled sheepishly, “Marriage. I need a drink.” I smiled back at him as if to say that I understood his pain.

All through this time the two of us had been keeping a respectable distance to each other. There was some attraction that I could sense, but something that I thought circumstance would prevent from going any further. However, I reached out and touched him on the forearm to cheer him up a bit.

He reached back and patted my hands and I could see a predatory glint in his eyes. He came over and planted a kiss on my lips, which in the middle he asked, “So why didn’t we do this earlier?”

All I could utter was the same unsatisfactory answer that I gave at the beginning of this. I kissed him back with passion that I had never felt with a man before. Though we had been on the couch, he picked me up easily. I thought we’d be awkwardly be moving over to the bed, but instead he pressed me up against the wall. With his body pressing against me so I couldn’t move, he quickly undid the button to my jeans.

Like in a scene from Fifty shades of Gray, he held my hands above me with one of his hands while his other hand began to probe my pussy. I had been wet for most of the night, though not uncomfortably so, and when he began to finger me, I started to moan. He kissed me on my neck and lips not letting go of my wrists or slowing down the stimulating of my pussy. I could feel my juices flow down his fingers as well as down my thighs.

I tried closing my thighs so he’d stop not sure that I could prevent myself from losing control of myself. I’d never been brought to this point of arousal this quickly. I tried to struggle against him not wanting to cum just yet, but he was too strong and his hands brought me to my first orgasm. I could feel myself clench around his fingers and he kept probing away at my vagina and rubbing my clit in random order.

When he felt that I had cum, he turned me around so I was pressed face first agaisnt the wall. He did this so he could continue fingering me with one hand, while is other hand played with my breasts. With practiced ease he undid my bra clasp and slid his hands over my breasts and started to knead them, playing with my nipples every so often. As he did this he moaned, “Oh the dirty things I’ve thought about doing to you.” I could feel his erection rubbing up against my butt and it was driving me crazy to think how good it would feel when it was in me.

I reached back to touch him, to grab him to be anything but a passive body that he played with. Seeing my hand reaching back. He took a step back and pulled out his cock. “Get down and open your mouth.” I was shocked having given only a handful of blowjobs in my life, not really liking them, but this time with my pants off, panties soaked, and an orgasm subsiding, I did as I was told. I slid down to my knees and took his cock into my mouth.

“Just relax and look up at me.” I looked up at him standing over me as he gently used one hand to move my head back and forth on his cock. I could taste the salty bitterness of the precum on his cock. With one hand I began to play with myself as he guided my head slowly back and forth on his cock. I was glad that he had shaved his groin, since one of the things I hated was getting pubic hair in my face during the rare occassions that I did suck cock.

I saw myself out of the corner of my eye, pants off, hand down my panties, and a cock in my mouth, being everything that I had sworn that I would not be. I was 42, far too old to be like this, and yet I was. He stopped moving my head and through my own voilition, I began to bob my head back and forth, making obscene slurping sounds. I saw him lean his head back encouraging me to continue.

I’ll be the first to admit, it probably wasn’t a great blow job, because he pulled his cock out my mouth and told me to lick the head of it one last time. He then carried me over to the couch and put me down in front of it. He sat down and looked up at me. I pulled my sweater over my head and let my bra slip down until I was standing in front of him completely naked and vulnerable. He held his cock in his hands and waited. I removed the rest of my clothes and even though he wasn’t wearing any protection, I walked over to him and started to press his cock into me.

Getting him into me was an exercise in pain and pleasure. Though I was wet, horny, and been finger fucked to my first orgasm, I still felt rather tight. It took a while before I could take his entire cock into me and when I did, I held on to him tightly savoring the sensation. He grabbed my hips and began to move my entire body up and down, at first slowly, but accelerating faster and faster. Soon I was bouncing on top of him screaming obscenities in the english, french and two dialects of Chinese that I was brought up with.

At this point I wanted him to cum so the ordeal would be over, but he just sat there and used my body like a sex toy as my body responded in ways that I wasn’t aware it could. I came multiple times, I squirted leaving a mess on the couch that we were fucking on, I drooled, and basically made myself look like a complete mess.

He got up and had me hold onto the desk that they had at the hotel, and began to fuck me from behind where he controlled the pace. The sounds of our bodies smacking against each other sped up and soon, all I could manage was to scream incoherently. I lost track of the times i came as he grunted, pulled my hair, grabbed my breasts until they hurt. At times he’d grab me around my jaw and order me to suck his thumb as he violated me over and over again.

Finally he pulled out. At this point my knees were weak and he allowed me to slump down to the ground where he turned me around and told me to open my mouth. I was in no shape to deny him his request. He thrust in my mouth a few times before shooting his load into me. He pulled out and collapsed next to me, as I struggled to swallow every last drop.

He caressed my body gently and I could still feel my orgasms pulsing inside me. Never before in my life had I thought I could be made to feel this way. At that point I felt no remorse for sleeping with a married man, though the remorse would come later. All I could do was savor the abuse that had just been heaped on me. My nipples were still incredibly sensitive to his touch and I pushed his hand off of me. I reached down and played with his messy and softening cock, wondering whether or not I could say no to him again and let this moment of weakness pass.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5s7rhp/fm_why_didnt_i_try_his_cock_sooner