I still can’t tell anyone about this, but it happened again. [FM]

Writing that first post really helped me process things, and the advice/support/care I got here was amazing, so here I am again.

So right after that post, I’m still hanging around this sub, alternating between answering some comments and talking to R via whatsapp. He says he’s coming over, that we need to discuss this face to face and that he needs to see me, especially after what happened. That gets me a little on edge–we’re either ending this forever or trying to make something out of it. I agree, he says he’ll be here in thirty minutes or less so I use the time to take a shower and put on a nice little dress. It’s short and tight and white, very simple. I’m not that much into dress although I know this and my previous post is incrimating, but the little fun we had up on that roof left me some bruises.

Call me crazy but I adore them and I wanted him to see them, to be reminded of what happened, how good it felt. I pick up a bra but decide against it and I almost decide against panties too. Almost. I pick white cotton ones and god, I don’t mean to but the second they’re on me I start touching myself through them again, rubbing my pussy and thinking about him, thinking about his hand, knowing now exactly how he does it, how great it is to be touched by him. It seems absurd but I guess it’s easy to understand once you know I haven’t slept, I’m still riled up from being taken by him, I can still feel him emptying himself into me with no regard for consequences, just letting go like that.

So I’m standing in front of my wardrobe, getting myself wet, and I realize I’m still in so much need, I want more and more and more and the fact that I might not have it is driving me crazy. I force myself to stop, to focus, so I take a minute to breathe, I grab some water and drink a big gulp and I tie my hair up in a messy bun, a few strands hanging loose, framing my face.

Not much after that he’s knocking on my door.

Heart’s beating fast, and I try very hard not to let my hands tremble, but there’s not much I can do about that. I open the door and he’s standing there, looking as ahdnsome as ever, no blue shirts today, just a simple black one and a pair of nice jeans. His hair’s a mess but his eyes don’t leave my face.

He greets me with a smile and I admit that reassures me a bit. I smile back, and he gives me a kiss on the cheek, his hand on my arm. We say hi to each other and I can’t keep from laughing a little. I offer him a drink, something to eat as we make our way to the small living room, but he says no to both and sits on the couch.

He stares at me and it’s a second of silence until he starts making small talk but I’m too nervous to play that game now. I sit next to him, ask him to be serious.

To make a long story short: he tells me he talked to his girlfriend, asked to meet her later. He’s going to break up with her. He sees the look on my face and tells me not to feel guilty, that things have been rocky with them for a long while. We’re sitting so close, his knee is touching mine, and I keep thinking about us, about him fucking with me, I’m so unfocused he needs to call me back to reality. I notice his gaze is set on my neck.

“What?” and he reaches for me, his hand turning my face to the side so he can see the bruise there, the hickey he gave me. He asks if it’s from last night and I nod, then he wants to know if it hurts and I shake my head. I can’t talk, not when his hand is on my neck like that, not when I want to ask him to squeeze a little harder. He lets go with a smirk.

“You’ve left your mark on me, too.”

I go on to ask him where and he shows me his shoulders, right where I dug my nails in. I feel insanely proud somehow that he’s all scratched out because of me. I tell him I’m bruised all over and I show him my arms. The smirk doesn’t leave his face as he leans to give me a kiss and mumble an apology.

That kiss turns into something less innocent, his tongue heavy on mine, his hands on me pulling me to his lap. Midway through the kiss I start grinding against him, his hands go down to my ass as he helps me keep the rythm. I feel him getting hard and I’m so ready, I’ve been wanting this again for so long, but for the second time that day I force myself tos top. I’m breathless and his grip on me is tight, my face is flushed and every inch of my body is begging me not stop.

“Not like this,” I say and my voice is almost a whisper. “Not until you break up with her.”

He nods, says he’s sorry and that he’s been waiting for me for a long time now, he can’t stop thinking about last night. I tell him I feel the same and stay on top of him. We take a minute to calm down and he leaves shortly after. He kisses me and then he’s out the door and I’m rushing back to my room, to lie on my bed so I can be as comfortable as possible.

I’m there on my back, spreading my legs and reaching under my panties with one hand, touching myself, rubbing my clit, soaking wet, coming quickly just so I won’t lose my mind with want.

It doesn’t help much, though. I want more and more and more and I’m amazed at what just being near R does to me. I talked about this in my previous post, how my ex left saying I was too much, that me wanting sex like this wasn’t ‘normal’, that he felt inadequate. I don’t know if he’s right, maybe there really is something wrong with me. Ever since I was young I’ve been fascinated with sex, with the idea of spending entire days fucking over and over again until I can’t walk straight, having all of my holes filled by someone who wants it as much as I do.

Anyway, I manage to get some sleep, waking up around 2PM. I have four missed calls from R. I call him and everything is alright, he broke up with her, and he’s coming by after work. It sounds perfect except a lot of things start going wrong, things unrelated to our situation but that involve us anyway. Work problems and family problems and once more to cut it short: We manage to see each other at around 1AM. He calls me and asks me if it’s okay to stop by this late and of course it is. I let him in and we’re both beat so we spend a good amount of time just talking and enjoying each other. He tells me the way his ex reacted, says she asked if there’s someone else and he said yes but didn’t tell her it was me.

That leads us to the dreaded question:

“What about us?”

That’s when one confession after another is made. He says he’s always wanted this, always wanted me, and he got the feeling I wanted him to. I admit to it, and to being really scared about the consequences here. We’re not blood related, but there’s our family and I feel horrible. I feel horrible because R was taken out the streets and given a home and sure, we’re adults, but he’s known my father longer than I have and he’s been part of that family way longer than I have. I don’t want him to be mistreated. He says he’ll take whatever gets thrown at him, but still, we both agree to keep this a secret, at least until everything is sorted out.

So we’re both in bed, he’s only wearing a pair of black boxers, and I’ve changed into a white t-shirt I use to sleep and red panties. It strikes me how intimate the scene is even tough there’s no sex involved right now.

He’s sitting on my bed, back against the headboard and no part of this feels wrong or out of place. I’m so happy that I don’t feel tired anymore, all that need rushes back to me, gets me to climb on top of him, my legs on each side of his body, straddling him.

He’s smiling at me and he leans forward to kiss me. His hands are big and he gets one on the back of my head to keep me in place. It’s heavy, our kiss, and we just stop to catch our breaths. My lips get a little red, a little swollen in that wonderful way, you know, a sign that they’ve been put to good use. I start moving my hips back and forth, much like I did earlier in the morning, and he’s getting hard again and I can feel it perfectly, it’s the sweetest thing and I get him to moan and that only makes me wetter.

We break apart again, I’m panting and his hand’s still on the back of my head, his eyes scanning me and when I’m about to ask if something’s wrong, he asks:

“What did you do when I left earlier?”

And he’s all smug about it because he knows exactly what I did, he knows how I am, but I’m in such a daze I answer him without skipping a beat, tell him that I touched myself, that I came while picturing him with me.

“Pictured me doing what?” and I know he’s teasing, challenging me again. I’m not one to back down, so I kiss his neck, drag my lips up to his mouth and then I whisper in his ear:

“I pictured you licking my pussy until I’m shaking, fucking me over and over again, filling me up with your come, making me beg just like I begged you to go harder, remember?”

He’s so hard, I feel him throbbing under me, and when I muster the courage to look at him after that entire confession, he’s got that smug smirk on his face again.

“You have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he’s tugging at my shirt, and I lift my arms to make it easier for him to take it off. He throws the piece of clothing across the room, and looks at me, my breasts and it occrus to me he hasn’t really seen me like this. I never took of my dress when we fucked up on that roof. He bites my neck, goes over that bruise again, and makes his way to my breasts, pays close attention to them, focuses on the right one first, circles his tongue around my nipple and then sucks on them. I can’t help my moans, I can’t help throwing my hed back, moving my hips a little faster. He keeps sucking on it only to stop and go back up to my mouth, he gives me a quick kiss and tells me: “You know how many times I had to jack off just because I couldn’t stop thinking about you?” dragging his mouth down to my left breast now, repeating the same motions, getting me to moan and plead with him.

“Get on your back.”

It’s an order, apparently, and who am I to deny him something right now? I comply, of course I do, I get off of him and lie on my back on the bed. He eyes me all hungry and needy, takes off my panties and with his hands on my knees, he spreads my legs apart.

He’s quick to get between them, and I feel like I’m on fire, exposed in the best qay possible. His first touch on me is a caress, really, his index finger on my pussy, on my tight little hole, testing me.

“You’re soaking wet,” he says, rubbing my clit with his thumb in circular motions, making me bite my lips. Then he gets two fingers inside of me, moving them in and out slowly, and I know he’s pleased with the way my breathing changes, how I close my eyes when he goes a little faster and how I scream when I feel his tongue on me, on my clit, his fingers still inside. He licks my pussy and finger fucks me with so much want that I get my hand on his hair and hold him there. He gets the hint perfectly, he’s amazing, so amazing, I know I’ve said this many times now, but god, he drives me crazy. I warn him that I’m gonna come if he keeps this up but he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t stop, god, no, he keeps going until I’m on the edge, until I’m one second away from my orgasm and that’s when he stops, that when he backs up and I take a deep breath and he laughs, asks me if I’m okay. I tell him he’s being mean, and yes, I say mean, and that makes him chuckle. He’s on top of me, kissing me, making me taste myself on his tongue.

When he’s done, he takes the time to tell me I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, that I’m better than candy, and I don’t give a damn if it’s apparent how much that comment makes me giddy. I want to return the favor, I want him in my mouth again but he doesn’t let me move. When I reach for his boxers he grabs my hands and shakes his head, smiling.

He gets them off himself, and I have no shame admitting I can’t stop staring at him. I said it before, I know, I know I’m a broken record here, but again, god, he’s so big, so amazing, so so so so so good to me, so much better than what I used to imagine.

He grabs his cock by the base, rubs it up and down my pussy, focuses on my clit and I’m still a little bit on edge. I’m biting my lips, looking at him, and I let myself moan aloud when he slips in, stays there for just a second before taking his cock out and lightly tapping my pussy with it, stopping to rub my clit again and then slipping inside a second time, alternating between the two motions until he gets all the way inside and leans forward over me, so his body is covering mine completely. I get myself wrapped around him, legs on his waist, my hands on his shoulders as he starts to move but there’s no ceremony this time, no taking it slow, he barely gives me time to breathe.

We’re skin to skin, my breasts pressed against his bare chest, his right cheek glued to my left one, his stubble leaving me red but I like it, I like it so much, his thrusts are hard and deep, there’s nothing controlled about it today, we’re both giving in to everything we want. I feel that first wave hit me, and I tell him, I tell him I’m close and he just urges me on, whispers in my ear, tells me to come for him, to come all over his cock and I do, god, I hold on to him and I come like the way I wanted to when his tongue was on me, licking my pussy, and I’m a trembling mess but he doesn’t stop moving, he doesn’t even slow down, he just backs up enough to look at my face, and I’m speechless, I’m in that place between being too sensitive but still wanting more.

He holds my face with one hand, his thumb caressing my cheek, he’s already panting but he keeps pounding into me and soon I’m not that sensitive, no, I just want more, I want to come again, so I beg him, I beg him while looking into his blue eyes. His hair is messy, he’s sweaty and handsome, and I feel like I’m on overdrive in the most wonderful way. He starts to slow down, his cock almost slipping out of me completely. He gives me a big kiss, bites my neck, and picks up the pace again. I feel like he’s got me hooked on him, and I can’t even try and match his rythim, I can only take it and so I do, I take his cock like a good girl, and he’s going faster and I’m begging for more, I’m begging to come again. He pounds into me, grunts when I start squeezing around him. It’s insane how horny I am, how close I am again.

“You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” he whispers in my ear and I will never forget that, I will never forget his tone, so sweet, as if he knows I’m his forever now. “You’re gonna come for me, won’t you?”

My eyes are wide, everything is hazy and all I manage is a little nod, a broken ‘yeah’. I notice he’s close too. “Come inside me,” I manage to ask this time. “Please, please, come inside me.” And he moves harder, and I come again, I come screaming, clenching around him and I feel him pulsating, I hear him holding back a cry, I feel him emptying himself inside me, his hot, white come filling me up, making me dizzy.

When the world hits us again and takes us out of that bliss, I’m still shaking, and he’s breathing hard, going soft inside me. He slips out and pulls me up, gets me on his lap and we stay like that until we can talk again.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he tells me. “Completely crazy.”

I can’t stop smiling, I really can’t. We get out of bed, I’m weak in the knees and he helps me stand. We’re sweaty and messy so we decide on a shower. We’re too exhausted for shower sex, but it’s nice anyway to have him there with me.

We fell asleep at around 5:00 AM and well, we’re together. We’re together in secret and I’m just waiting to see where this will lead us. We’re planning on a secret getway this weekend, but it’s not certain.

Thank you all for the advice, I can’t believe I get to share this. I certainly don’t want to stop venting/sharing here since I can’t tell anyone in my real life about this, at least not right now.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6x0v0h/i_still_cant_tell_anyone_about_this_but_it