Hello, Reddit, or more specifically, gonewildstories. I have been a lurker for a while now, not really posting any comments or anything. Granted, I’ve never been much of a commenter to begin with, so that’s not much of a change. Laying out the prerequisite “didn’t happen recently”, I’ve been sitting on this tale for over two years, as it’s something that I am somewhat ashamed of, despite having been quite a fun romp. I do not remember this as perfectly as I would wish I did, so any dialogue will probably be paraphrased unless it was something that stands very clearly in my mind.
To set the stage for you, this all began through connections to my place of work, which stands as a rather large retail chain. I won’t name it, for obvious reasons, but it is easily one of the big ones throughout the US. Despite working in another department, I had found myself becoming friends with a number of cashiers, one of whom, we’ll call her Laura for the sake of identification, began to invite me over to her house.
Laura was a shorter, somewhat robust woman who I hesitate to call fat simply because that word makes it sound like she was ugly or disgusting to look at. She has blonde hair that parts easily on either side of her face before stopping near her chin. Blue eyes, chubby cheeks, and the bust and behind that would be expected from a female of larger waistline proportions, she was incredibly kind and seemed to go out of her way to make people be included. She was never much of a huge dresser-upper, going simple with hoodie jackets and loose jeans. Through her, I became fast friends with two other cashiers that she would being over to her place as well.
Kurt, who was a few years younger than the rest of the group, was tall, thin, and lanky, with his clothing looking to be a size or two too big at times. He had dark brown hair that sat in a slightly messy, devil-may-care-esque bowlcut until he began gelling it back, plus an ever-present goatee. He was very able with his hands, always seeming to be creating something small, like origami or tiny carvings from wood. He was quiet, but clearly inspired in some artistic way to just /make/, which is something I’ve personally always had trouble with.
Along with him, Laura also routinely invited Chrystal, who preferred to go by the slightly shorter nickname “Chrissy”. Chrissy, too, had dark brown (almost black) hair that reached the nape of her neck, and frequented wearing earrings that dangled in some fashion. While Kurt and Laura always went with more casual styles of dress, Chrissy went with clothing that was a bit more form fitting and flattering. Nothing incredibly revealing, but shirts with a bit lower neck and tight, /tight/ pants were always something she frequented. This is not a fact that I ever complained about, as she had a lovely body. She felt that she was fat, something that she complained about to us quite frequently, but while she did have a bit of fat to her belly, she was not even close to what I would call pudgy. Simply healthily shaped. Add that to a nice, plump butt and a pair of c-cup breasts and she was quite an attractive woman.
Finally, there was Melissa, who was the newest and youngest member of the group at a fresh-faced 18 years of age, having been invited by Laura on a whim. Melissa was tall, nearly matching my (admittedly not very impressive) 5-foot-8-inches of height, as was about as thin as Kurt, making self-deprecating jokes about her “chicken” arms and legs. When out of work, she had a love of tank tops with a hoodie, zipped or no, thrown over, a hat upon her head which allowed her brown-haired ponytail to slip through the back, and tight black pants that included a number of buttons and pockets to make up for the lack of such in most female jeans. She fancied herself as a writer, and could also be found doodling during break times at work.
It was not long after our get togethers that Kurt and Chrissy ended up romantically entangled, and shortly following began living together (despite Chrissy still owning an apartment with her ex) not that far away from where I did, a short ten-minute drive or so. Unfortunately, tension began surfacing between Chrissy and Laura, with Laura allegedly having her sight set on a management position and beginning to ass-kiss, suck up to, and throw people under the bus when possible in order to preen herself to her superiors. With such a fissure splitting the group apart, I began to spend more time with Chrissy and Kurt, who would invite me over to their new place after I would get off my late shift. Occasionally Melissa would join, but for the most part it was just us three. From there we got into a pattern as follows: I would be invited by Chrissy, head on over after work, the three of us would collapse upon the living room couch, and several hours of simple mindless television viewing would follow. Due to Kurt’s comparatively early shifts, he would usually fall asleep while we partook of people-being-stupid videos, and his lady would (somewhat loudly) tell him to get to bed, the remaining two of us would continue to watch for a bit longer, then after a hug I would head on home.
Then something happened.
It was slow at first, with Chrissy sliding her way across the couch bit by bit as each night progressed, getting closer each time we hung out. Each night, a little bit closer to her friend, a little further away from her boyfriend, until we found ourselves in a rather comfortable position together. I would be laying sideways, with my back resting against the arm of the couch. She would be laying against me, with her feet propped up on a table that sat in front of the furniture, thus allowing my feet to slip beneath her bent legs and rest comfortably just below her butt. It was winter and thus frequently got cold in the house, so blankets were repeatedly brought out from their bedroom for us to use, and I had thrown a large cover over the both of us. During the loud programs that brought the three of us to laughter, I felt a light pressure on my leg, rubbing softly. I ignored it, focused upon enjoying my time with friends. As the night went on, I felt it again, a bit higher, still rubbing in a relaxing manner. Again, I ignored it.
At least, until, in its spotted trek upwards, I felt the pressure lightly touch the tip of my penis. Chrissy’s fingers, having apparently found their mark, slowly stroked me, feeling me swell beneath their ministrations. I swallowed, glancing down at her to see an incredibly satisfied grin on her lips, but she stopped. The night continued, until we reached a point upon which Kurt had fallen asleep, his chin resting against his chest as he breathed slowly. My arms were wrapped around Chrissy’s waist. At some point, or sometimes before I arrived, she would remove her bra, letting her medium sized breasts free beneath a simple t-shirt, and that night was no exception. I was, admittedly absent-mindedly, slowly stroking my fingers across her belly, and she shifted in my grip.
“Kurt!” she barked, and I saw his head jerk up before he blinked blearily at her. Her voice softened, “Go to bed, you have work tomorrow.” He nodded slowly before lurching up off the cushion and slouching his way towards the bedroom. Then, it was just the two of us, sitting in the room. Minutes passed by with no occurrence, the television filling the silence between us until I turned to her.
“Why did you do that?” My voice was low, murmuring. She blinked up at me, and her hand returned to my leg. She smiled as she stroked my thigh. “I like you,” she said sweetly, before leaning up and brushing her lips against mine.
Now, to take an aside, this was a bad thing. A bad idea, a bad situation, a bad everything. And although it does absolutely nothing to absolve me in any way whatsoever, I want to point out that I was 24 years old, a virgin, and had never had a girlfriend. Full of pent-up sexual energy that had never had relief aside from my right hand.
But, as I was saying, she kissed me. Her neck was craned towards me, and as she pressed her full, soft lips against mine, my hand lifted to stroke along her jawline. Despite my mind screaming at me to stop immediately, I couldn’t. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I said quietly against her lips. “I know,” she replied, words dripping with desire before she crushed my mouth with another kiss. I gave in, kissing her back with everything I had, left hand drifting from her jaw to run my thumb down her throat, while my right slowly climbed up her side. Through her loose, faded gray tee shirt, I traced her breast, grinning gleefully as her lips parted in a soft gasp. The blankets were swiftly thrown to the floor, and she crawled into my lap, pressing down against my swiftly-hardening erection. She cupped my cheeks, licking and kissing at my lips, while I dropped both hands to her waist, squeezing lightly before slipping one beneath her shirt and dragging my admittedly stubby nails up her stomach. She hummed with approval, wiggling in my lap, grinding against me. Her body was hot against mine, even through the clothing we wore, and our breathing grew heavy as I returned her grinding with a thrust of my own. She squealed as my bucking hips threw her an inch into the air. Upon landing astride me once more, she continued her rocking, slowly rubbing my erection pointedly against the apex of her thighs, mouth dropping open. My hand continued its trek upwards until I had the entirety of her breast in the palm of my hand, lightly squeezing. Her hard nipple pressed into my hand, and I ground the heel of my palm against it. She gritted her teeth as a groan slid between her lips. I slipped my other hand under the waistband of her pants, groping her round cheek, digging my nails into her bountiful flesh. Somewhat abruptly, Chrissy ceased her movement, before lightly grasping my wrists and pulling my wandering hands from their exploration. With a heaving chest, she smirked, then started to move backwards.
Chrissy slipped from my lap, sliding down the couch to her knees, between my spread legs. Her hands cupped my erection, one hand fondling my testicles, the other taking long strokes of my shaft. My hips rocked against her grasp and my fingers dug into the cushions as I bit my lip in an attempt to stifle the moans that were building in my throat. There was a zipping sound as she unbuttoned my pants and pulled the tab down, before fishing my dick out of my boxers. Her fingers wrapped around me, and she almost unconsciously started stroking, her dry hands pulling against the skin. Her eyes, dark with lust, caught mine. “You don’t have to do this,” I said weakly, attempting to give her an out before things went any further, despite the pole she held loosely throbbing at her touch. Again, her reply was simple. “I want to.” And her lips pursed as she lowered her head, coming closer and closer, until my world imploded. Her lips, wet from our makeout session, parted along my head, gliding seamlessly. She was slow, taking her time, milking my reaction to my first oral experience.
I slung my arm across my chest to grip my shoulder, holding it up in front of my mouth so I could muffle my shaking moans against it, teeth bared. My breath hitched, stopping and starting at the sensation of wet, hot glory that surrounded me. My shoulders shook, my stomach clenched and unclenched over and over, my thighs tightened, my hips slowly rocked despite my best tries to keep them still for her sake, and my fingers had given up on grasping the couch cushions and were simply balled into a fist so tight I could pop a stress ball.
She continued sinking lower, following the light tracing of her hand as it continued to stroke me. Her tongue lashed sweetly against the curve of my shaft. Lower and lower she went, moving wondrously, torturously slow, until the majority of my length sat within the moist cavern of her mouth. Then, just as slowly, she pulled back, dragging her tongue against me as she retreated, feeling me jolt when she sucked as her lips crossed from my shaft to my head. With only the last inch of my inside her, she looked up at me through her eyelashes. She winked, and moved her head back down on my cock. The teasing and initiating was over. The true blowjob had begun. Back and forth she went, picking up speed, the constant change from the warmth of her mouth to the coldness of open air and saliva driving me insane. Then, she stopped, and with deliberate movements once again grabbed my wrists, this time bringing them towards her. Down to her shoulders, up her neck, ghosting across her cheeks, brushing her ears, until they settled on the back of her head. We sat there for a moment. Me, on the couch, pants undone and dick out for anyone to see. Her, on her knees with her lips around me and my fingers curling into her hair.
We both knew what she wanted me to do.
So I did.
I started slow, since I didn’t want to drive too fast and potentially gag or hurt her throat. I pulled her down on my shaft, and from around me I heard her let out a low, throaty moan. Spurred on by her delight, I picked up the pace, fisting her brown hair and yanking her head away, then dragging her back to me. Over and over she went, and I relished in the control she had given me, taking charge of the pace and depth of our debauchery. Little by little I pulled her further onto me. With each stroke of her lips I pulled her further down.
If I thought her mouth was wonderful, then her throat was nothing short of heavenly. She choked and sputtered. She gargled on the saliva that built up as I slid myself into her. Her hands, having long since abandoned touching any portion of my penis not currently encapsulated by her mouth, dug into my thighs. I felt powerful, having this woman at my command. I felt sexy, having this attractive woman slobbering over my manhood. I felt like a traitor, taking advantage of my friend’s girlfriend. I felt…. like I was going to cum. I told her so.
She didn’t tell me to stop. She didn’t make any motion to stop me. There was no tapping on my leg. No attempt to get away from my grip and my dick. So I didn’t stop. My teeth gritted and my toes curled as I bucked my hips one last time, feeling the shluck of her throat, and retreating until I rested just past her lips. I wanted her to taste what I was giving her. Then, release. A moan was pulled from low in my chest, rumbling, bestial. I felt myself let go into her mouth, spurting my load against her tongue, painting the inside of her cheeks with my essence. She groaned with pleasure, eyes fluttering as she took me in, cheeks puffing out with the size of my climax. I was breathing heavily, worn out, as she slurped her way off of me, making sure to catch every bit of semen. Mouth full, she smiled awkwardly at me, then stood up and walked towards the bathroom. From the couch I fixed myself, tucking my damp penis back into my boxers and zipping my pants back up. I could hear the faucet running, and a light splattering as she spat into the sink, then swished the tap water to clear the taste from her pallet.
“I don’t enjoy the taste,” Chrissy said as she walked back, “but it’s really sexy.” She sat down next to me, cuddling into my side. “Besides, I didn’t want to get anything on the cushions,” she continued with a nod towards the white couch we sat upon, winking at me. We sat together for a little while longer, before the lateness of the time set in and I had to leave. We kissed one last time, and I left.
The sexual relations between us continued for several months, elevating to sexting, masturbating together over Skype, fingering her during our hangouts while Kurt was still in the living room, going back to her house during lunch break for a quick blow, meeting up at her old apartment one night after she had sent me pics of her in a sexy corset/night dress combo, and spending an entire afternoon naked in her and Kurt’s bed. It ended rather abruptly as I got closer and closer to Melissa until we finally officially hooked up and, not wanting to cheat on my first actual relationship, I put my foot down. However, Chrystal didn’t take that too well, becoming hostile towards Melissa. Eventually their arguing wore down the ties our group had, and we went our separate ways.
I’m not proud of what I did. It was hot and exciting, to be sure, but I risked not only their relationship, but mine with them as well. I do occasionally catch myself fantasizing about our time together, dreaming about going over to her house when nobody else is home, bending her over the nearest furniture, and making her moan and scream my name. But despite the no doubt wild sex that might come from such an encounter, I am firmly happy with Melissa. We’re not having sex (she, too, is a virgin), as she wants to wait until we have a place to ourselves, but that factor is simply not that important to me. It would be nice, sure. But as long as I can hold her in my arms and make her smile, I am content.
We’ve been together 2 years and counting.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6j5yzo/while_he_sleeps_mf_cheating