Let me start this off by giving you folks some background on me. I’m doing this for a couple of reasons, one – because I think you need to know this stuff in order to understand the magnitude of why this was such an atypical situation to happen to a guy like me, two – because I’ve been an active Redditor for over eight years and I have a strong belief in giving *something* back to the community, and three – you can decide in the next minute or so if you feel like wasting your time reading this wall of text. Oh yeah, four – If you did read this, I’d like your input and opinions on things, after all, that’s what we are here for.
I’m a 43 year old guy. Much like many men here on Reddit, I’ve worked in tech as a career and have since I was 22. At 40, I had the most fucking amazing career going for me as a sales engineer for a vendor. In short, my job was as a liaison to sales people whom were trying to sell a specific technology to a customer. I traveled a few days a week around the country, some weeks worked in my boxers at home, had carte blanche to expense any and everything work-related, and earned more money than both my parents did combined at the peak of their own careers (~$300k-ish on my W-2). I worked hard, ate hard, drank sort of hard, and even had a mistress (whom was more of an emotional attachment than anything else)(but since you asked, I saw her once or twice a week when possible). I always had a new and fairly decent vehicle (also was passively shopping for that discounted used Porsche, just never pulled the trigger), my house was (finally) just about completely renovated, my three kids wanted for nothing, and my wife made a decent salary herself as a nurse practitioner. So yeah, the 1% I guess.
I was always weird and awkward about stuff, and although both of my ‘sex lives’ were ok, I wanted more. Something younger, and hotter, and I suppose more ‘into me’. I was also a fat fuck. Not tremendously overweight, but fat. Neckbeard and the whole nine. I did go to the gym, but mostly to perv on chicks, and especially because I had a predication for girls in leggings, I guess. I’m just being honest. In any case, I was in year three of this particular job\role and things were good. Busy, crazy, volatile, full of cheating and lying, but otherwise good. July rolled around three years ago, and I’m at a customer site, feeling under the weather. The next day I feel like shit and cancel my meetings. The following day, same. Day three I can barely move and resign myself to the couch, all day. I call the doctor on day four, weak and exhausted, I go see him. Nothing but a slight fever, good. Later that day I collapse in my living room. I spent most of July through October between hospitals and physical in-patient rehab facilities. Mind you, I was fairly healthy outside of being overweight, so this was completely polarizing to me.
The initial diagnosis was Epstein-Barre, which is like Mono. Final diagnosis was something called Guillane-Barre or GBS which is a polyneuropathy (condition) where, as a result of something as minor as a common cold, will trigger an auto-immune response where your body attacks itself; the nerves to be more specific. This causes lots of fun shit, like paralysis of varying degrees. In my case, following the onset, I could no longer stand, turn my head, smile, lift my arms, or even sit up in bed. I’m minimizing this for the sake of the story, but it was no Bueno. I made small amounts of progress, eventually going home in a wheelchair. I graduated to a walker, then months later, a cane. I tried going immediately back to work, twice but as strong as my will was I simply didn’t have the strength or dexterity. I gave up my job, strained the fuck out of my marriage and family, drove the mistress crazy with my emotional lunacy, and set myself into a deep deep depression. My condition begins to improve, slowly but surely. Life at home had strained itself too far, and I separate from my wife. I go to physical therapy 2-3 times a week, get a personal trainer, a shrink, and by March I get ‘permission’ to drive again. I go back to the regular gym and continue to perv on chicks, but now I’m working out like a beast. Three-ish years later, I’m still 5’8” tall but only 32” wide, and fully recovered. I was also down to the weight I maintain now, which is ~180 lbs and average BMI. I work out 4,5,6 times a week all mostly out of fear to be honest. Am I a hottie? Pfft, the farthest I would take that might be ‘dad bod’ material maybe. I shaved my head, and lost the beard too since it started reminding me of Gandalf, choosing instead to stick with the Walter White goatee.
I did a couple of smart things while I was recovering too, in retrospect. Whilst I was in the hospital, my company was “acquired” by a private equity firm, thus converting the stock I was awarded over the years to cash (by a multiple of $22-27\share). I held about eight thousand shares leaving me with an e-trade account with just over $200k in cash. When my career\job folded, I also had a retirement\401k worth $150k thanks to my employer who matched contributions. Being cautious that I might litigate and attempt to hold my company responsible for my condition, they also handed me a severance amount equal to two and a half years based on my total comp per year, landing me a check (physical check via Fedex for $173,387.39)(I had never seen a check for this amount). I was, quite literally flush with cash, at least on paper. But I was also debilitated heavily and miserable. No amount of money could accelerate my recovery. It was just numbers to me. It was probably the first time in my life where money didn’t mean a damn thing too. I was bored out of my mind constantly at home, when I wasn’t at a doctor, my trainer, or PT. I fapped like an Olympic athlete too, but that entertained me at the most 3 or 4 times a day. I’d figure out ways to see my then, ‘mistress’ here and there and that was alright too, until things fell apart. I started looking at investment opportunities given the amount of ‘free’ time I had. I converted a couple hundred thousand dollars into some stocks, and tried to experiment on forex (foreign exchange trading ie currencies). I lost way more money than I made, and several months later I was worth about 33% of what I initially had available. My marriage as I mentioned was actively falling apart, and my spouse had already made plans. She had purchased another house in the neighborhood (as an investment), and decided to relocate there instead of flipping it. I had learned a fair amount about real estate from this endeavor (which was a process that had started years before), and once she moved out with the kids, I started looking for opportune situations.
There were plenty of foreclosures, and even folks who wanted to bail out of shitty mortgages in my area. I would look for these situations, get my inspector, and contractor, and lawyer. Using these resources, I would make a decision on a house or condo. I’d always offer a ridiculously low offer, and just see what happens. I completed this cycle four or five times successfully and many more unsuccessfully. I lost some more money, but started to at least break even here and there. More experience and research taught me to seek out some very specific situations, and structure my offers differently. I was now looking for homes that were positioning a seller to abandon for as much as possible and as quickly as possible, for cash (no mortgage, or short-sales). If you wanted out, had a property in fair condition, and no liens (and I had the cash available), I’d take it. I get a cashier’s check from my bank, hand it to you (more likely my attorney to your attorney to your agent and mine), and the title is transferred to me inside 30 days. I’ll get my people to do the most minimum work to repair the home if necessary, then list and sell it. I had a few realtors who would turn me onto these situations here and there, but I found more success in ‘old school’ advertising by placing signs around the neighborhood – “Cash for your house. Call 123-456-7890”, or “I buy houses for CASH”. I wasn’t making a lot of money, but it was steady and I was able to use equity from houses I was holding to get me short-term loans for other properties. Fast forward one year and some months later, I get a call about a house around the block from my own. Russian or Czech woman, heavy accent, needs to sell her house for blah blah and can I come “right now”.
No, I couldn’t. I had turned in my douchebag-mobile BMW X5M some months ago (gosh did I fucking love melting all four tires on that beast) because $900/mo. For that thing was retarded, and my lifestyle was dramatically different now. The BMW dealer had given me a bunch of shit about early termination, so I drove that shit next door, to a Kia dealer. Three hours later, the X5 was theirs, I had a zero balance, a check for $16k in my pocket, and a new Kia SUV fully loaded. My oldest son at the time was about to get his license, and after shopping around online we found him a 2001 Jeep Cherokee (2nd gen, 2WD 4.0) in ‘politely faded shit brown\hunter green’. The Jeep was OK, but always needed something done. I basically swapped vehicles with him, and ended up with the Jeep. Parenthood motherfuckers. Anyway, when I got that call, I was waiting on the tires to get replaced. I tell the woman I need a couple hours, and we arrange to meet the next morning instead. Great. I call up my boy Pablo, master-chief of assessing fucked-uped-ness of houses and ask him to join me. Pabs was good people and I met him some eight years earlier when he built a deck for my home. Pablo wouldn’t be available, but not a show-stopper. So this brings us up to speed, more specifically, last weekend. Oh wait, one more thing I forgot to emphasize before I continue….
I love pussy. I don’t mean that in a way that most guys say this, where they replace ‘getting laid’ simply by introducing the word ‘pussy’. No, I really *love* pussy. Maybe it’s relevant to whom it’s attached to, yeah sure, but I just love the shape, the functionality, the texture, smell, touch, and taste. I find it such a turn on, for example when a woman bends over in front of me and slides some sexy panties down her legs, looking back at me, while I watch. Or just having my face close to a pussy, with an opportunity to use my hands, fingers, and tongue to do as I please in order *to* please. Getting her to orgasm, make a mess on my face, whoa, it’s a tremendous and overwhelming turn on for me. Sex is great too, don’t get me wrong, but there’s just something about playing with, licking, touching, and or all of the above that simply puts me over the edge or closer to it. For example: I watch a lot of porn, and have since I can remember, even through this whole recovery process. I typically dig Tumblr, I like videos, what can I say? Anal vids, meh… here or there perhaps, straight sex.. also maybe, but if there’s some fingers or foreplay with a tongue, ok. I find bi and lesbian videos more my bag. I can totally relate more to those and enjoy them, along with masturbation vids peppered in. I’m too old to be concerned with dick size. You won’t find me on /r/bigdickproblems or the opposite sub either. I suppose when I was 12 or 13 I thought I had a small dick, but then again I also thought that since I hadn’t gotten laid until 16 that I was homosexual. The partners I’ve had would all confirm average to slightly above, and that’s always been just fine with me. I’d also say the only “dick problems” I’ve experienced are getting an erection in a public setting or in my car or a plane or something and having to adjust myself by doing a low-key hands in pants move or dealing with being exaggeratingly horny at inconvenient times. But yes, I am a true pussy connoisseur.
The woman who I had spoken to, “Sasha” had exchanged some basic info when we spoke previously. Property address, home type, and confirmed no liens and it was unoccupied. I do a quick search on Zillow to get an idea of the value (even though I live in the neighborhood and have an idea). I promised to call her back, which I did, arranging to meet her or whomever the seller was the next day. Immediate weird vibe again, but it’s not terribly uncommon in these situations. The next morning I get up, fuck around on the interwebs, go to the gym, perv on some females, return home, rub one out – maybe two, shower, and prepare for the meeting. I still have the Jeep shit box, my son Ben has my ride, and as usual he’s “working”. I think I decided on some khaki shorts and a polo shirt with my Sanuk aka ‘ugly shoes’. I grab my notebook, hop in le Jeep, drive three blocks and park across the street from the home. I also brought my cane, just in case I need to crawl in some attic or something – it’s become a force of habit. Anyway, a barrel of a woman opens the door after I knock a few times. She half sneers and half phony smiles at me, directing me inside. The house reeks of mold, mildew, and lots of stale things which I cannot identify.
I introduce myself, extending my hand to shake hers and she walks away. Either she’s a complete asshole, doesn’t understand English, or both. I see some kids running around the place, which is empty save for some broken mini-blinds and three chairs of the temporary, outdoor variety. I take a seat, open my notebook, and wait. The woman returns from the rear of the house. She’s sort of short, wearing some simply fugly makeup, and this wide dress type deal. She’s sweating too – profusely. I’ll paraphrase the ‘conversation’ for the sake of time: Do you buys house? Yes, hi, I’m Jay and yes I might be interested in this property (puzzled look from sweaty woman). I speak little English; you buy house I have keys (she produces a keyring with many keys). Soooo, do you have time for me to look around? I still have some questions.
She nods, and I get up and walk around the home. I’m immediately uninterested and looking for an excuse to bail, quickly. Why? Forget the smell, the stains on the ceiling, fucked up or broken windows, and mismatched everything, the floor was visibly sunk or sagging – again, no Bueno. I didn’t need Pablo to shake his head. I made a quick about face, and head to the front door yelling ‘thank you’ as I walked. Suddenly, I hear the woman’s voice say, “wait a sec”. No, that couldn’t be the same woman. It was a different voice, and sounded like a different person. It was a different person. It was Samantha.
She had rolled in while I guess I was upstairs, and stopped me upon exiting. When I swung around I saw her. Petite, maybe 5’1”-ish brunette with long, brown, straight hair and gigantic blue eyes. I’m trying to word what I want to say so it doesn’t sound pervy but she looked extremely young, maybe the height, or maybe the ponytail, or maybe she was standing next to Miss sweaty the refrigerator. Whatever the case was, and again *not* being pervy, I stopped. Sam introduces herself as the sister of the other woman, and tells me she will translate. OK, fine. I…am…not…interested. Some brief discussion, and I leave relishing the air outside. Sam chases me down as I’m about to pull away. I explain to her that I’m late for something, and she asks if we can discuss the house later since her sister is really in a bind and desperate to sell. I accept the idea of a phone call apprehensively, she thanks me and off I go. Hopefully she doesn’t call. She called. And asked me a thousand questions. I politely told her the answers to what I could regarding the sister’s house. By the way, did I mention that I love pussy? During the call she would pause to write things down, but I was trying to get off the phone. We ended *that* conversation, and she tells *me* she’ll call me back if she has any more questions. Fine, whatever.
The very next morning, I’m at another prospective property, and the phone rings. It’s Sam again, and she has a ‘few’ more questions. This was getting out of hand, but fuck it, I’ll try to be Good Guy Jay. I explained that I was in the middle of something, but I’d be around shortly. Better yet, it’s almost lunch time, and if she wanted to I’d treat her to lunch and answer whatever else. She agrees without hesitation unfortunately, and shows up late to the diner in my neighborhood. She walks in, this time, hair down, short black skirt and tank top, looking much more ‘mature’ I guess. I was eating a burger, else I would have gotten a boner. She waves, and I wave back, my eyes of course auditing her physiology. I’m checking top down, she’s wearing a bra – check, I can almost make out nipples check, underwear status – unclear – no panty line detected (I told you I was a perv). I stood to greet her and give her a quick hug, she’s so tiny. “You smell good Jay”, she says. I said some silly witty and stupid remark in reply, and we sit across from each other. I apologize for not waiting, as I had a limited amount of time to spare and encouraged Sam to order something. I’ve got the MacBook in front of me, as usual to keep me company plus I had some email to answer – I close the cover and slide it away. I won’t bore you with the monotonous conversation we had where I explained, in detail, how Samantha could help her sister but I was not going to be that resource, nor could I afford to even if I was in such a position. I finish first (eating.. and I always finish last btw ahem), and I tell Sam I can show her where to get the info she needs while I pop open the laptop.
Sam decidedly slides out of the booth, slipping next to me, close, like very very close. I’m not sure if she was trying to focus on my huge 13 inch…… screen or what but we can go with that. Now I feel my cock waking up, and not in a good way. I know we talked about dicks earlier, and positioning. I love pussy by the way. My dick was positioned in such a way that it was discomforting big time. I was legit scared to excuse myself to the restroom to adjust, but gauging my current coordinates; I could not pull off a quick hands-in-pants realignment either. So I just tried ignoring it. I show Sam the house on Zillow so she can see that I’m not full of shit, and show her pics of some of the houses I have bought\sold including a lot of pics of the renovations. We finish lunch, and I drop the Amex on the table, the let Sam know I gots to get down to the shore to sign some papers and drop keys to some fellers who are refinishing a pool on a property I am trying to get rid of. We converse some more, no touching on my end – I’m weird like that. Sam is definitely a ‘toucher’, and has been giving me these little subtle touches since invading my side of the booth. She likes removing stray thread and lint I guess as well, while telling me I have thick eyelashes like a female. Thanks, I think? Anyway, after I try to escape, the more subliminal side of me does something. I ask Sam if she wants to ‘take a ride down the shore’. I watch her enormous blue eyes ponder for a second before she tells me she has something she was ‘supposed to do’ in a few hours, but as long as we were back by 6-7, sure. I grab my cane, laptop, and credit card and we hopped in my car. I had successfully exchanged vehicles with my spawn that morning so I had the ‘nice’ Kia. I’m looking for dick adjustment opportunities to no avail… pfft. On the long ride down the highway, maybe an hour and a half or so, we start really talking. I found out a lot about Sam, and exchanged a lot of info you read above (minus the part about how much I love pussy, and I do) with her. Sam is 26, no 27 and her birthday was last week. Damn. She is from post-Soviet Russia but grew up here with her sister, 37 year old refrigerator. She works as an administrator for a pharmaceutical in the area and also is a personal trainer at a few gyms. She almost got married once, doesn’t have a ‘serious’ boyfriend, and enjoys cooking. Yawn… Iknowrite? So I’m thinking, ‘What do your panties look like?’, and ‘I bet you would look even better on your knees, between my legs, sucking me off’. I offer neither that opinion nor do I pose such a question.
We pull up to the property an hour-ish later, and I think she had an instant orgasm. At least that’s what my imagination said happened. The house, which backs up to a small forested area is one block from the beach. It’s a massive cabin-in-the-woods styled post-modern 8-bedroom deal with a huge triangle shaped roof which looks like, if it were anywhere else could be a church minus the steeple. 70 foot driveway, gated with an even more impressive interior and backyard. I was one of five investors in this deal, actually the smallest, having taken on the opportunity to learn from the other four more seasoned and experienced investors. This house was dope for real, and nothing I could likely ever afford. This was also a pretty soft deal, with not much to do except some minor stuff, like the pool tiles and liner. The house was also fully furnished, why you ask? Because I don’t know. My understanding however, is that it makes an attractive property *more* attractive if it looks like it’s occupied. Part of the investment was hiring a company that ‘stages’ homes for sale. They basically furnish the house temporarily and then remove the stuff post-sale. These mofos went all out apparently furnishing the living room, den, dining room, every bedroom, towels and soap in the bathrooms (5 btw.. 5 freaking bathrooms), bikes in the shed, and even television(s). Since I was the plebe\noob and the only local guy and the smallest contributor, I was the bitch. So if there was a need to let someone in, or sign something or exchange some actual cash, yeah.. me. Ironically I stood to *maybe* come clean with $12-18k, really not much. I was doing this more to establish a rapport with these guys in hopes I could leverage them and their money down the road. Also, I really love pussy.
Sam and I unlock and enter the house and I show her around, before plopping down at the temporary dining room table. Sam spends some more time perusing and asking me questions, then sits down in the small sitting area just adjacent to the dining room. “You know Jay, I always thought people in shitty cars made equally shitty decisions in life”, she says. “Uh, you don’t like my car. It’s my nice car”, (I emphasized ‘nice’) I reply as I’m smiling. Time to take this bitch to school yo. “No, no, yesterday you had that truck thing-“, I interrupt her, “Jeep. It’s a Jeep. Damn OK one too, just saying”. “You cannot be that beautiful, charming, and shallow now. Can you?”, I retort. My phone rings; pool guys running behind. Sam’s smiling, and has her legs crossed and arms folded. “I don’t know – I was just surprised. Now I feel like an idiot”, sad face, she’s looking at her feet. I make an attempt to explain her misgivings on applying appearances as absolutes. I use this very house as an example, reiterating the above and exaggerating the details around the minute stake I myself had in this thing. The conversation wasn’t so much awkward as it was reminiscent of talks I’d had with my own spawn. She’s fumbling around in the little purse she has, then asks, “Jay, do you smoke?” I don’t smoke cigarettes, having ditched that habit more than 12 years before. “Smoooke what?”, I ask. “Weeeed silly. Do you get high?”, was Sam’s reply.
Do I publicize drugs for recreation? No. Do I smoke weed? I grew up smoking weed, a habit that had subsided over the years up and until I got sick. When I got sick it seemed like everybody and their mother suggested smoking. My ex-wife also worked in hospice, and had a mighty strong plug to attaining the most stank, potent, green buds I had likely ever seen before, along with edibles, and assorted vape pens. I typically smoked only with the ‘side-piece’ slash ‘mistress’, and I still had a fair collection in a box at the house. Sam had one of those vape pens, and I plopped onto the “love seat” next to her and we puffed away for a while. I’m very high. Also I love pussy. Sam has swung her legs over my lap, and again I’m instantly hard. No, more than that, I’ve got a raging erection and my cock is still in that very fucking uncomfortable position. No time for pleasantries, plus I’m high, so I slip my hand inside my shorts and redirect it parallel to my left thigh – much better. “Oh my gosh Jay, are you-“, and she busts out giggling. I just shrugged, and toked the pen again. She continues, but now her legs are pressed firmly against my thighs, trapping me in a sort of sexy way. “Jay..are you…going to..KISS ME”, and she grabs me by my shirt and pulls me to her face.
All I know is my tongue is in Sam’s mouth, and we are making out like animals. I’m not huge (5’7” ~180 lbs), but she is small and I’m thinking I might kill this chick by accident. But no, she’s pulling *me* closer, but it’s an odd place to be as I’m essentially supporting myself with my hand on the floor. Balancing myself on top of Sam, supporting most of my weight through my forearm and hand lent itself to keeping my focus as opposed to minding my dick, which was waning it escape at this point. I am so very wrapped up in kissing her, continuing as she is wrapping her legs around my midsection and dry-humping me. I slowly begin lowering myself down, my lips just under her chin offering small kisses in reaction to her wisps and whimpers. I slither down further, right hand tingling from being ‘asleep’ I manage to land my knees in front of the couch\love seat, both hands up her little black tank top cupping what feels like a small, silky brassiere. Sam has repositioned herself more upright, allowing me leverage to kiss her belly as my forearms lift her shirt. She has this pretty little semi-trans black bra on with some cute little flower pattern which concentrates just around her nipples, and as I continue to kiss her side, just above the waist of her skirt, Sam flings off her top, leaving the bra on. I wiggle my hands under the small cups reavealing her pink and perky little tits, meanwhile she is struggling to unsnap the bra with one hand while digging her nails into my (shaved) head. Also, in case you were unaware – I love pussy. I pull her hand away, leaving the bra half undone. I kiss her between her cleavage, and slowly move southbound.
When my mouth arrived at the hem of her skirt I find a black silk bow, which I imagine has the purpose of a belt or something. Sam’s long hair is tickling my head, and simply smells like heaven. I’ve placed both my hands on her thighs continuing to kiss her belly as my hands slowly, covertly push up her skirt. Not so covert I supposed, since Sam is wiggling and allowing the skirt to slide up her smooth thighs, the inside of which I have now placed my lips. I’ve got both of my hands just under her knees, caressing her calves, and slowly applying upward pressure while pushing her legs apart. In one single felt swoop, the skirt is riding around her waist, legs wide open, one heel on my right shoulder. Sam’s decorum well matched, her black thong-styled panties in the same style and flowered semitransparent motif as the bra. She edges herself closer to the edge of the sofa, her panties pulled tight against her so much so that I could make out everything. Holding her legs apart, I draw my tongue slowly up from the area where that little solid patch of material always seems to be on women’s panties. I feel the material against my tongue, and Sam pushing herself against me. I can smell her sex which is causing my cock to pulse in my jeans now. I radio for backup, inviting my hands to slide closer and closer to the inside of Sam’s thighs and slide the soft, triangular patch of material to the side.
I place both my thumbs just around the outline of her pink labia, pulling her lips apart while continuing the slow ascension between them with my tongue. I’m paying close attention to the smooth textures, feeling her wiggle above me. I’ve got her pussy lips between my lips, gently pulling before returning my tongue to her smooth opening, upward now, tracing my tongue around her clit. I can tell Sam is ecstatic from the moans and her fingernails digging into my head. This is causing my cock to pulsate even more in my pants, and I can feel the warmth of my own thigh against it. Glancing up momentarily, Sam has her free hand clasped around her breast, over her bra. Her face scrunched up, and her long hair falling across it. I continue, sucking softly and blowing on her clitoris; one finger slipping just inside her. Her trembling increases to an almost epileptic seizure-like scale, then stops, then repeats and I feel her muscles contracting and releasing around my finger. “St-stop-stop stop stop”, she murmurs. But I didn’t stop. I told you already – I love pussy.
At the same time as Sam is trying to compel me to cease and desist, my cock has been eagerly rubbing against my leg and pants to the point where, like the spectacular end to a show of fireworks, the grand finale happens… Unfortunately ladies, yep, right in my pants. It was a fantastic orgasm, my leg overcome with a wave of warmth as I feel unsteady. I continued working on Samantha, but to be honest I was pretty embarrassed. Nonetheless, I went at it even more so darting my tongue deep inside her and using one thumb to press against her clit whilst the other petted the small, closely trimmed patch of pubic hair just above her pussy. More trembling now, and she releases my head in favor of trying to remove her panties. As Sam maneuvers, I guide her indicating she should flip over, which she does. She’s got her forearms on the back of the sofa, legs on the seat cushions, with her pretty pink little thing above my face. I pull down her skirt, removing it, then slipping my face underneath her and pull her little ass towards my face. I’m back at it, and Sam is riding my face leaving gooey wetness all over my nose and chin. My cock had recovered almost immediately, though slightly desensitized. I tongue fuck her through one or two more trembling seizures, my hands gripping her ass, finger pressed against her little asshole, applying just a touch of pressure.
If there was a right moment to get my cock inside that, this is going to be that moment. After all, we don’t want a repeat of exploding in the pants, do we? No, I don’t. Kicking off my shoes, and slipping off my jeans, now featuring a huge wet spot on the middle of the left pant leg, I wiggle off my boxer-briefs, and rise to a standing position just behind her. I slip easily inside her, so warm, tight, and wet that it almost, almost brings me to orgasm immediately. I have a superpower however. You see, a couple years ago I could barely stand or even use my hands, let alone walk or function normally. Losing your sensory abilities (proprioception) makes things very scary, overwhelmingly so. Since this condition also greatly affects your balance and coordination, your fear of falling (which is initially justified since most of your muscles have atrophied in addition to losing all sensation in your limbs) will cause your core muscles – abs, to react a lot. If you folks have issues with balance and coordination, you will work on your core. I have as a result, a ridiculous set of core muscles (sorry ladies – no six pack – the genetics don’t favor that) giving me (usually) a lot of control over my dick. I can also instantaneously flash myself back to thinking or believing I might fall or lose balance and reset my focus away from something like ejaculating. I discovered this with the side-piece\fwb I mentioned earlier, and it became a fun game for me and led to very extended fucking sessions.
In any case, I’ve dipped just inside of Samantha simply enjoying the visual of her pussy wrapped around my manhood. I take it slow, pushing ever so slightly, then slowly retracting until I can almost feel the head of my cock emerge. I push a little harder and deeper, Sam letting out a noise which I am trying to interpret as to whether this is hurting her or is a sign of enjoyment. I better find out, right? I push myself halfway inside her again slowly, grasp a hold of her long brown hair, and pull her head back by her hair. “Am I hurting you baby?”, I ask politely while repeating the half in-half out. Sam’s reply was unclear, but her eyes were closed and her lips were pursed leading me to conclude that no, I was not causing her any pain. I was enjoying the hair pulling, her whimpers or whatever, and this causes me t become even more excited. It’s this ethereal feeling you get in your balls, every dude has felt it, indicating full throttle with afterburners are engaged. Time is passing, and I’m just waiting for something, something to interrupt or otherwise wreck this amazing moment. Suddenly she’s clenching and clamping harder on me, and her breathing has changed. I keep it status quo on my side, feeling her orgasm building, making me even more excited. She pushes fast and hard against me as she orgasms, and fully aware of this I pull slowly back. I can see my shaft, gooey and kind of shiny, and quickly pull completely out of her hearing this little sort of ‘pop’. It sounds like when you use a plunger I guess, but even this turns me on.
I can tell Sam is about to rest or switch positions, however I guide my cock right back inside her, hard and deep, pushing her slightly off balance. I want to cum, again, soon, but not right now. I bend forward wrapping my arms around Samantha’s middle. I maneuver her up and on top of me so now *I* am sitting on the couch and Sam is sitting on top of me. As her weight shifts completely over me, I feel like I have to give in. I gently lift her ass off my cock, pull her against me, stroke my cock once or twice and explode. I’m not even sure where I came, or how much, because I like to know. All I do know is that my tongue is back in her mouth, and she has her hands clenched on my cock squeezing and stroking it. More kissing, then I position her ass up over my face again and enjoy that wonderfully wet pussy in my mouth while she sucks me into a third orgasm. Following this we both ended up on the floor, back on the couch, against the wall, and everywhere in between for a total of what I believe was a good 7 or 8 orgasms including of course, the one in my pants.
It was twilight when we left the house, and the pool folks had shown up but I never heard the doorbell. My cock was aching, and I was physically exhausted. Sam seemed rather exasperated as well, and there was much less conversation on the return trip. I guess I was still processing all of this, and hoping this was just episode 1 in a long series. We stopped on the way home for Starbucks, and I ran in to use the restroom. My cock still smelled of her I noticed, and it appeared pretty exhausted too. I washed my hands, headed back to the car, and dropped her off back at the diner where we had met up earlier. Quick kiss goodbye and she was on her way. I’ve tried to schedule more ‘get-togethers’ with Samantha a few times, and she did meet me a couple days later. We grabbed a drink, nothing more, and that was that. A few days following our initial get-together, I’m doing my laundry and going through my pockets only to discover those black panties in the pocket of the hoodie that was in my car.
I hope you folks enjoyed this story. It took me about a week to transcribe these events completely and I actually enjoyed writing this all down, I even jerked off a couple times in the processs (weird, right?) I also have to thank u/frustratedglasses90 for her encouragement to bother doing so (I perved on some of her posts, then asked her opinion on the idea of exposing this). I also welcome your opinions, and look forward to them – Happy Monday!
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9emy6m/fm_really_real_estate
Oh holy shit, dude. That’s a great story! So well written. Thank you!
best story i have ever read! So fucking funny, real, and educational (flipping homes and GBS) Please continue writing!!!!
very well done!