This happened last Monday. It was my eleventh time having sex, and my first time having good sex. I’m 27 and have been sexually repressed for most of my life due to growing up in the church.
I had recently put myself on Tinder with no direct goal in mind. I matched with Issac about two weeks prior, a programmer who speaks Russian. I was instantly attracted to his intelligence and wanted to fuck him – though this was a massive deviation from my conservative personality. As a serial monogamist and ex-Christian, I had only ever been in serious relationships, and I had only had (bad, uninspired) sex with one person prior to this. I didn’t understand sexual chemistry and had yet to explore it.
I texted Issac, simply saying: “I want you to have sex with me.” He responded with messages wrought with delicious insinuation and I felt absolutely, overwhelmingly aroused thinking about having sex with this person that I barely knew. Absence of control and absence of safety – the total antithesis to the safe, boring, long-term relationships I had experienced my entire adult life.
I dressed carefully. Black panties and a see-through pale yellow bra. I’m thin, very pale, and small-chested. I knew Issac delighted in the idea that he was corrupting me. I wanted him to have that.
I gave him my prerequisites: no kissing. This wasn’t romance, this was fucking. I requested that he fuck me like an animal in his stoner basement. He agreed. Later that night, I arrived at his house, fully aware that I neglected to tell a single person where I was going or doing. He opened the front door and the air already felt tense with expectation. He led me to the kitchen and presented a bottle of bourbon, which was hugely relieving, because up until that point I was still only partially sure that I could actually follow through with my plan. He poured a little into a rocks glass, I drank it straight. It burned reassuringly, a small comfort in the alien situation I had found myself in. My mouth felt dry. I asked him for water.
“Shall we proceed?” Issac asked, his formal speech making me feel even more alien, somehow less safe, and incredibly aroused. We descended into the stoner basement, lit by a red light and the glow of his TV screen, set to Spotify. Illuminated in the dim light was a small couch, a blow-up mattress, and a coffee table littered with different varieties of weed. The basement felt carnal and hedonistic.
We sat on the couch nonchalantly. Or, he did, at least. I felt anything but nonchalant. I sipped on more bourbon to help with the flutters of nervousness starting to well up in my chest. I was fully aware of the tension between us and it paralyzed me. After some light conversation, he assertively pulled my legs towards him. He pinned me underneath him on the couch, grinding his hardening dick against me, his hands still light on my skin, suggesting that he was holding back. I tried to give myself over but I still felt inhibited. He took my shirt off. I stood up and took my jeans off, but felt completely frozen, unable to process the scene unfolding around me – but aroused as fuck. I paused awkwardly, standing before him in my bra and panties; vulnerable. Sensing my uncertainty, Issac pulled me back to the couch, positioning me so that we were spooning. He unhooked my bra and yanked down my panties. His hands roamed my naked body, expertly, over my breasts, my waist, my ass, and down my back. My body responded naturally, wanting more of him. I arched my back, grinding my ass against his hard cock.
I was fully his, now soaking wet. He told me to suck his dick. I felt a little shy at his directness but immediately obliged, taking all of him into my mouth and delighting in the feeling of his dick hitting the back of my throat. I liked how he felt. Not too big, but big enough to gag me just a little with a slight thrust. His hands were on my back. He moaned, moving my hair out of my face so he could see my mouth taking his cock.
He then picked me up, my legs wrapped around him, and laid me on the blow-up mattress next to the wall, awash in the red glow from his ambient lighting. I felt exposed and vulnerable but overcome with anticipation. He wanted to know if I was ready for his cock. I wasn’t sure. Even though I was super aroused, it had always taken me such a long time to get wet enough for penetration. Probably anticipating this, he slicked himself up with his saliva and put on a condom. I positioned myself on top of him, my hands gripping his muscled shoulders, slowly guiding his dick inside of me. I gasped with pleasure and pain. I was still so tight. I felt his breath on my neck as I rode him lightly, still not used to the feeling of being filled up. He flipped me over onto my stomach and entered me from behind, his hands on my back, rougher now, pushing me down in total submission. His breathing was ragged. This hurt a little more. I involuntarily gasped. “Shhh,” Issac whispered, his hands pushing me down, as he became rougher and faster with his thrusting. His cock was now pounding me so hard and all I wanted was for him to fuck me harder. I had never been fucked like this before and I was so unbelievably wet that I swear I could feel my wetness dripping onto the bed as he pounded me. My eyes were squeezed shut with the intensity of the sensation. I couldn’t believe how hard and fast he was fucking me – and how much I liked it. I realized I had a taste for degradation. I wanted to be reduced into nothing by his cock.
I got on top and began riding him. Issac helped me find my rhythm after some awkwardness on my part. “Don’t go out quite so much,” he said to me, his hands on my hips, showing me how I should thrust. I found a better motion, grinding hard on him, my clit rubbing against his pubic bone, and I felt pressure building.
“You’re going to come for me,” Issac commanded me, his hands in my hair, his voice smooth and authoritative. I felt completely and utterly enraptured by his strange, unfamiliar sexual dominance. I would have done anything he asked me to.
We continued along these lines for an unspecified amount of time – I lost track. Though I didn’t come from penetration, being fucked like this completely changed my perception of myself and my sexuality. We have since continued our exploration and I’m looking forward to future posts, though I’m blushing even thinking about all of this. Thanks for reading and sharing my delight in my lost innocence.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/80asrr/he_fucked_the_jesus_out_of_me_mf_inexperienced
Great story!
Amen
Well written
I wanna get back into you (check the title and my username)
Loved this! More corruption stories please
You, ma’am, have an excellent grasp of what it takes to write smut.
Very nice…