We both needed to fuck, and be fucked well. I made the profile when I couldn’t stand the unsatisfying lack of satiation any longer, and he was my first pick. I wanted to be dominated, I wanted to fuck an older man who required little instruction, I wanted to be touched and wanted and needed by someone who could keep up with me.
I wanted to act out the fantasy I’d thought about as I touched myself for so many years of so many nights spent longing for a proper fuck.
For sex that went on for hours.
For sex that was hot and carried no complicated, boring, pitiful, and emotionally unstable male baggage…
…like unending texts,
…like expecting me to respond happily to unsatisfying sex and disregard my pretty body in my prime and disregard my desire to make dirty love all night long to a man that fucked with genuine reciprocity
…like feeling expeditiously entitled to be clothed and fed and sheltered while I work overtime as an RN to provide comfort to unemployed garbage that fucks for 90 seconds every few days
…like fucking me full of the lifeless ennui that grows inside when I stopped expecting lovers to give a shit if I cum or not, a life full of prematurity immaturity inability incompetency
…like recurring revolving doors in a magic mirror funhouse of disappointment of two minute floundering pounding pushing some inadequate hard-on into my curvy body
…like premature fucking cumming from an unsatisfying ocean crashing waves of selfish lovers sending dick pics they should have been self-conscious about, ashamed of, and who wouldn’t leave until they drained their balls AND ultimately my will to keep searching for anyone with even just a few of the qualities I needed in a man.
I made the profile because I was wasting my twenties and mid-divorce and I figured I’d wade through this shallow pool of filthy men…because I figured they wouldn’t be expecting more than I wanted to give.
He emailed me back within hours and we exchanged photos with instant attraction, laughs, and an unexpected openness about what we were both fantasizing about.
Three days later, after hyper-sexual, lusty flirtation that began to make my pussy wet at the mere sight of an email notification…we planned our one-time fuckparty excitedly and made it clear to each other that the intent of the meeting was voracious sex with a stranger.
I needed it so bad my cunt was tight and wet and longing as I walked into the bar and saw him for the first time in person.
I knew in that moment that I would let him have me, and we smirked and flirted nervously through two drinks. The anticipation was making me crazy and I told him I wanted to leave.
He got into my car and was soon groping me and exchanging filthy ideas about what we wanted to do to each other when we got to my empty apartment.
I will never forget the passion I felt for him as the apartment door shut behind us — without words, he pushed me against the wall in the front hallway and started to hungrily kiss me and take off my clothes with one hand…as the other hand kept my wrists firmly over my head.
I writhed around and moaned into his mouth as he kissed me, and he let me wrists go when I whispered how fucking starving I was for his hard cock that was pushing against his jeans.
I pulled his zipper down, and slipped my hands down the front of his strong body…and I pulled out the thickest, hardest, most perfect cock I’d ever seen. He groaned as I dropped to my knees, naked before him, pink pussy dripping down my thighs and onto the floor, and I licked and kissed and sucked his huge dick and couldn’t stop myself from licking and sucking his big perfect balls while I stroked my spit up and down his dick…as I looked up at him, feverishly excited by his masculine moans, I realized he was about to fuck my brains out with a cock as big as my wrist.
He pulled me up from my knees and into my bedroom and I remember being in a state of overwhelming awe of him. He was masculine and fun and confident and handsome and strong, and he took his time…he was savoring me. He pushed my thick thighs apart and buried his face between my legs, lapping up my wetness, expertly working his tongue against my lips…and then deeper…responding to the movements that made me cry out…he held me by my waist with his big, sexy hands…then he tongue-fucked my tight, naïve pussy slowly, deeply, hungrily. His tongue licked purposefully, rhythmically up to that most secret feminine part of me on the tip of my little swollen clit, underneath the hood.
I was spread apart and it felt vulnerable and sexy and for the first time in my sex-obsessed life I felt passionate ecstasy and submitted completely to the orgasm he kept up for so long…I moaned loudly because I couldn’t control myself and I writhed and begged him to fuck me.
He flipped me onto my stomach and ate my asshole like it was the last thing he’d ever taste.
It was the first time anyone had ever tasted me there.
I had never even thought about it.
…All of my sexual confidence about how much I’d experienced…how genuinely jaded I’d begun to feel leading up to this night with this man I didn’t know…it had never occurred to me that it was an act people did together.
He ate my ass the first night we met.
I called him Daddy.
I want to write more about the obsessive lust.
I want to write more detailed descriptions of the smooth, perfect shape of the head of his enormous cock and how it felt as it pushed past my lips, how it felt on my tongue, how after that first night I would think about no man’s cock but his, every single day.
I want to write more about the way every orgasm I’ve had since that night has involved him, or thinking of him.
The condom broke within minutes of the ultimate fucking heaven that we felt together as he began to push inside me for the first time.
I would rather have ceased to exist in that moment than have told him to stop.
Fuck me, Daddy
Fuck me, Daddy
Please fuck me
Please fuck me
He was 39, just weeks before he would turn forty…and at 26 I was so deliciously satisfied and overcome by lust and desire and unexpected girlish intimidation of him…I looked up at him as he fucked me and he was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen…a king…my king…it felt like my pussy was full for the first time, and he was so gorgeous…I was cumming harder with every word he spoke and his voice and his moans became the only sound I wanted to hear…I inhaled him and licked his nipples and the way his body tasted and smelled…the feeling of being pressed closer and closer against his warm, strong body was a mind-bending kind of intoxication I would never stop craving…as we fucked harder, deeper…as we kissed and whispered those incredibly personal, secret, dirty things to each other…we held and touched and fucked more and more desperately until he pulled his breathtaking, monster cock out of me and shot the hottest cumload I’d ever seen, all over my naked body.
It has been almost five years since that night I met in secret with a stranger, a more experienced lover, a fucking god…I wake up every single day since that night, thinking only of him. I live for the hours we spend so close together. I need him more than I have ever needed anyone. I need to please him the way he pleases me. I need to know he’s satisfied. I crave everything he is, and I want to possess his lust and worship him the way he deserves.
Always wanting more.
Always more.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5v15aw/fm_i_met_a_stranger_on_ashley_madison_and_he
Poetry.
Also: old school NIN fan?
A bit creepy..
This girl is a crazy selfish bitch. Pass.