This past weekend, I had an amazing experience that I felt I needed to share. It’s a little more… pure?… of an experience, so I apologize for the length and non-sex details, but I promise, they’re important! And there IS the good stuff!!
Important Info: I’m engaged, but I’m in a poly/open relationship.
When I was in high school, I had a guy friend, Brock, that was one of those guys with long curly black hair, black clothes, black nail polish, guy liner to the extreme, and scowled all the time. Everyone was terrified of him, although I never knew why. I had German, Mythology, and Study Hall with him (over the course of several semesters for a year and a half), and so that’s how he and I became friends. I was bullied a lot in school, so, I was fairly quiet, shy, not very outgoing to many people (I’m completely different now), but B was always nice to me. We would talk about random things, the shit that happened in our lives, joke around, laugh. People didn’t mess with me when I was hanging around with B. He ended up doing a partial 5th year of High School, then he left to go to Basic Training for the Army. I missed him like crazy. He’d send his mailing info to the teacher of the Study Hall class we’d had together so that if anyone wanted to write him while he was in Basic, they could, and I very quickly started sending him letters. I remember being so eager to get those pale blue envelopes in the mail and seeing his horrible chicken-scratch writing scrawled across the page. I think he’s the only person ever that I’ve been so diligent about sending a written reply the day I received their letter. About half way through his training, he told me in one of his letters that he always thought I was cute and kind of had a bit of a crush on me (I’ll never forget that letter, I kind of wish I still had it). In my reply, I told him I felt the same way, and we made plans to get together after he came home after graduating from Basic before his first deployment.
When he got back, he looked so different. Hair cut, clean shaven, tall posture, toned physique, no guy liner, a few new tattoos. Still sarcastic with a wildly inappropriate sense of humor. I was 16 at the time, I remember thinking of him as a bit of a heartthrob. He picked me up for our “date”, although what we did, I can’t remember to save my life. I remember driving around a lot, listening to Rob Zombie and Disturbed, and I know we went to the local park in the town I lived in and just walked around the trails. I kept giving him all the signals for him to kiss me, but he was more than slightly oblivious to that fact, so it didn’t happen. But, being 16 and all girly, I still gushed over him.
After a few hours, he dropped me off at home, and the next day he left for some advanced training in Korea (which was technically a Deployment, sorta kinda?). After which he said I was kind of his girlfriend now (16 year old me squealed at this). He would call me from time to time from Korea, which was weird because of the time difference, and with international calling, there’s always like a 4 second lag in responses. I loved talking to him on the phone. He has one of the deepest voices I’ve ever heard a white man have, with just a touch if gravel, and I always found it soothing. It was nice.
In an attempt to stay connected to him while he was away, I thought it would be a good idea to befriend some of his friends, so I went through his Myspace (I know, it’s practically like cave paintings now), and noticed there was this girl, Amy, that commented on almost all of his photos and posted on his page all the time, so I figured she’d be a good place to start. I added her as a friend on Myspace and told her I was Brocks’s girlfriend and that I wanted to get to know some of his friends. I was feeling like I could fall for him at the time (again, I was 16). Literally a matter of days after I started talking to this girl, Brock emailed me saying he didn’t think it was going to work out, he just wanted to focus on the Army, but we could still be friends. I was heartbroken, but not too terribly upset at the time. I told Amy about all this, because we had a lot in common and I felt I could talk to her. The next day I get a follow up email from Brock saying he lied to me about why he broke up with me, that he was madly in love with someone else. Amy told me that she had been dating Brock for the past month, even though she lived in a different state, and that she had no idea I was in the picture. Amy had confronted Brock about the whole situation and he claimed he didn’t remember me (a statement from his past Brock still regrets and beats himself up over), and she gave him an ultimatum: tell me the truth, or she would. Well, that solidified my friendship with Amy. Eventually the relationship between them fizzled out (again, through actions that Brock is not proud of), and Amy cut him out of her life. I ended up cutting Brock out of my life after he insulted my job at the time, something I realize now was kind of a stupid thing to get so mad over and I was being a little petty, but I think I was still carrying a bit of a grudge.
So, time went on. Amy eventually got married and now has a beautiful baby girl. I dated my abusive ex for 4 years, left him, and then met my fiance, got introduced to the poly lifestyle, and became more of a confident person, happier. Then, something like 2 years ago, a Facebook friend of mine posted a status about talking to Brock, and he was tagged in that post (she had also been in the German class with Brock and I). I remember thinking “God, that’s a name I haven’t heard in years” and started thinking about why I stopped talking to him. I realized that people change (Lord knows I have since I was 16), and that I had been a bit of a prude and petty at the time, so I sent him a Facebook friend request. He accepted and we began messaging each other right away.
I was so surprised as to how much Brock had changed. He lived in the South now (I live in the Northwest part of the country, where we’re both from). He now liked all kinds of music, not just Metal, including Country (which was hilarious considering the type of person I knew before). He was out of the Army, after making decent rank, and had wanted to be a Cop (again, hilarious compared to the anti-establishment guy I’d known before), but sadly due to combat injuries and PTSD, was unable to fulfill that dream, so he had a job working alongside police a good half the time. He’d even been married (seriously, who was this man, and what happened to Brock?!), although, tragically his wife had killed herself a number of years prior, just before he got out of the Army. In the 8 years since I’d talked to him, he’d been through a Hell I couldn’t have imagined. He told me that that Hell had changed him, that he realized how many people he’d hurt, bridges he’d burned, mistakes he’d made, and all the regrets he’d had from it, and how he was happy to make amends with me because he remembered how good of a friendship we had in school and the letters we sent each other while he was away from home.
Last year, he visited his hometown and had made a plan to come out and visit me (a 2 hour drive from his hometown) for an afternoon to catch up. I had just gotten back from working abroad for 6 months on cruise ships, and I came home to a new house my fiance had moved us into a matter of days before I got back, so I had a LOT of adjusting to do. However, Brock had accidentally overbooked himself with his vacation itinerary with so many people to see and stuff to do with them, that on the day he was supposed to visit, he had passed out on the couch and slept the whole day away. I was disappointed, but not too mad because I also passed out because I was still jet lagged. So, unfortunately, we didn’t get together last year.
This year, however, he planned his trip so there was specifically a day just for visiting me. Now, the previous year, my fiance had asked me if I had ever slept with Brock, which I hadn’t and the thought had previously literally never crossed my mind. He was literally one of those guy friends that was actually platonic. I had mentioned this conversation with my fiance to Brock and he had the same reaction, that the thought had literally never occurred to him (I know, he’s a guy, he was likely not being entirely truthful), but that he viewed me as his best friend. Plus, no matter how many pictures you send a person, it never does them adequate justice as to what they actually look like. A few weeks after that conversation though, admittedly, I got curious, and my mind wandered. I told both my fiance and Brock this. My fiance wasn’t surprised, he knows I’m a very sexual being and once I’m curious about something, I usually have to explore it. Brock said that the same thoughts started happening to him too. So, we started getting a little flirtatious with our conversations, the pictures got a little more scandalous, and the plans for his trip to come see me started to include more than just “catching up.”
He arrived at my house this past Friday. I hadn’t laid eyes on him in person in 10 years. His hair was cut short, but was long enough to have a slight shaggy curl to the ends of it, and he had his beard trimmed fairly short (like if a guy went a week and a half without shaving, only tidy). He had more tattoos than the last time I’d seen him, which really wasn’t a surprise, and was rocking jeans and a hockey t-shirt. I gave him a hug and we just stood there holding each other for a while. He smelled like tobacco, aftershave, and spiced cologne. I had to laugh because he’d picked up a southern accent, which makes sense considering he’d been living in the South for the past 10 years. I still had to give him a hard time for it.
He came up to our apartment and I introduced him to my fiance, and they very quickly started talking military stuff (my fiance is is former National Guard) and he showed Brock his handgun, and Brock showed my fiance his handgun (which really freaked out the internet tech guy). I knew my fiance was getting along well with Brock when he offered him a taste of his 25 year old Jameson whiskey. They continued swapping Battle stories and sharing interesting work stories (since they’re both in kind of similar fields), then my fiance had to get ready to go to work for 3rd shift, leaving Brock and I alone. Brock wanted to wait to get touchy feely until my fiance left, just for comfort’s sake, because he’s never been with a poly woman before.
Before Brock came over, I’d told him that he owed me for the kiss he didn’t give me on that date we went on when I was 16, that he owed me a kiss good enough to make a 16 year old swoon. At this point in the weekend, our apartment didn’t have and comfortable furniture for more than one person aside from our bed in our bedroom, so Brock and I went in there so sit together. We quickly were laying with his arms wrapped around me, my head on his chest inhaling the smell of him, and continued talking about old times.
And then he finally kissed me. A kiss to make any woman of any age weak in the knees. He has naturally pouty lips (although you don’t notice because of his beard) that were insanely kissable. He nibble-sucked my bottom lip, drawing little sighs out of me. I savored the taste of him and relished in the rough tickle of his facial hair against my skin. His tongue delved deeper into my mouth, and it’s like I could feel our temperatures rising just from out kiss. When he finally pulled away, he laughed as he asked if that was enough to pay off his debt to 16 year old me, to which I replied “and then some” and pulled him back to me. We kissed, touched, and squeezed each other, savoring the feel. He pulled my hair, nibbled my neck, kissed along my jaw, then dragged me on top of him to lie on his chest as he dragged his fingers across my back. He bit me on the fleshy part of my shoulder, making me groan and instantly feel hot all over. I pulled his t-shirt over his head and admired the black swirls of ink on the skin beneath. He removed the sweater dress I’d been wearing and kissed my breasts, admiring my nearly-naked form on his lap. He pushed me onto my back and nibbled along my ribs and hip bone, teasing me through my underwear. He nudged my legs apart and kissed the backs of my thighs where they meet the buttock, gently biting along the outside of my pussy, then slowly, lightly, dragged his tongue across my clit. He made figure 8’s with his tongue and tongue fucked me before sliding a finger into me. He made me twitch and squirm, and after I came, he came back up to kiss me again. I pushed him back and eagerly put his shaft in my mouth, sucking gently as I pulled up. I was amazed that I could fit almost all of him in my mouth without gagging. He writhed with pleasure as I twisted my hand in the same rhythm as my head. As he edged closer, I stopped and kissed him. He pulled me on top of him again to straddle him, and he slowly entered me, groaning at how tight I was. I ground into him, feeling him thrust to match my pace. He flipped me onto my back and pushed deeper, feeling my legs as they snaked around his back. He massaged my breasts as they moved with his thrusts, and he nibbled along my collar bone. He pulled my hips closer to him with a hand on my ass. We changed position again, this time doggie, and he rammed into me, going as hard as he could, but the pain felt so good, I came hard and yelled out loud enough I thought the neighbors would hear.
We stayed up most the night talking. We talked about our past, the individual Hells we’d been through in the time since we’d seen each other, the Hells we’d been through when we were younger that we didn’t already know about each other. He told me things about himself that he wasn’t proud of and that he said he’s never told anyone else. I didn’t judge him for any of it, even though some of it was pretty bad. I told him as long as he doesn’t enjoy drowning babies for fun, I generally won’t judge him for his past. We talked about his PTSD, my depression, all kinds of things, all while wrapped naked in each others arms, taking breaks from talking to kiss more.
He had to leave Saturday afternoon, but unexpectedly his Sunday plans were canceled, so, since he didn’t want to spend any more time with his parents, he came back to my place. He helped my fiance and I bring up our new living room furniture and assemble it and watched my fiance play one of his WWII video games before my fiance had to go to work at night again. We pretty much picked up where we’d left off Saturday afternoon, with the cuddling, kissing, talking, and touching. He pulled me onto him again, and as I straddled his cock again, he groaned as he slid into my warmth and said “you feel amazing.” He fucked me hungrily, biting me and pulling my hair, and he finished by pumping a load of hot cum into me.
He lad to leave obnoxiously early to make the 8 hour drive home. He told me that seeing me was the best part of his vacation, and that he loved me as a friend.
While the sex was amazing, I feel like this past weekend was more about regaining that friendship I had lost, rebuilding that bond I had missed. So few people were so nice to me back in high school, and fewer people saw the person I could be like he did. I feel like I did 16 year old me a service by reconnecting with Brock. I’m really glad Brock and I didn’t kiss or have sex back then, I feel like everything would have played out differently, ended badly, and been completely irreparable. I hope to be able to go see him in a few months, once I have the money and PTO saved up. And while I enjoy sex, especially the sex with him, I feel like our relationship is more about the mental connection, the depth of the friendship between us, and the sex is an extension of that. I don’t know how I would classify these types of feelings and this kind of relationship. I mean, yes, I do love him too, as a friend, and I want to see him more often than once a year, but only because that bond of friendship is so strong. And it’s more than being about sex, its a friendship with an aged love, like fine wine, and I’m glad he’s in my life again.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/657ll4/my_favorite_country_boy
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