***NOTE: This is a pretty much fully truthful (names changed, yadda yadda) account from my memory of an encounter that happened a few days ago. I tried to tell it warts and all, so I hope you enjoy it for what it is! Also, the sex starts at the break ——-***
I’ve just got out of a 5 year relationship, which partly came to an end over our complete mismatch in libido. More specifically, I’m an insatiably horny bastard, and she basically had zero interest in sex. It sucks, we still care each other, but that on top of other reasons meant it just wasn’t working out, so we’ve parted ways.
Now, I’m a bit of a troglodyte, and when my ex and I started dating (2013) I didn’t even own a smartphone. Hence Tinder wasn’t something I’d ever used, and hearing peripherally about the kind of depraved shenanigans that people could get up to on there (from within the confines of a largely sexless relationship), always made me feel a little bit jealous. I’d fantasise about casual hook ups with gorgeous women, and I have to admit, I did download the app a couple of times just to check out what was out there. So it’s probably no surprise that within a few days of being single, and despite in many ways being an emotional wreck, I downloaded Tinder, Bumble and just about any dating app I could get my hand on in the hopes of getting that sweet, sweet, post-breakup sex.
Bewilderingly, the deluge of gorgeous women just desperate for primal, no strings attached fucking didn’t immediately materialise. I swiped away, at first conservatively, and then in a furious onslaught of unending right swipes, but quickly ran up against the limit on swipes in the free version of the app. In horny frustration, I ended up subscribing to Tinder Plus, and within a couple days had literally right swiped everyone in my area (a not very large city in England).
Gradually, the matches started materialising (also thanks to some profile adjustments courtesy of a female friend). As I’m guessing seems to be the norm, there was a lot of false starts, but a few girls kept up the conversation enough that I had glimmers of hope. One was a French girl named Amelie, whose profile was honestly underwhelming – a few blurry pictures that made it hard to tell what she really looked like. She was friendly though, and I chatted away, trying to be neutral enough not to scare her off, but flirty enough to feel out what she was looking for. Well I shouldn’t have worried – after a few cheesy innuendos it was clear she was just as much of a depraved sex maniac as I was, and the conversation quickly turned into the sordid details of how much we wanted to fuck each others brains out.
Unfortunately, her job as a carer required her to live in, and she said she wouldn’t be free to meet up until after the new year. In addition, I’m now living with my parents, so my availability to host a random hook up session is not spectacular. Getting desperate, I half jokingly suggested she should sneak out work and we could fuck in my car – which to my surprise she did not dismiss out of hand. However she was worried it could cost her job if she got caught, and I had to agree that it was a terrible, irresponsible (but also very fucking hot) idea.
I was resigned to having to wait a few more weeks, when she out of the blue asked if I wanted to meet her for a walk – she had to take the dog out. She made it clear it would be just a walk, but obviously my depraved mind was already jumping ahead to hurried, frantic sex in the park, or some such nonsense. Of course I agreed, and headed straight to her, so eagerly that I was actually 20 minutes early, and had to wait nervously in the car feeling mostly quite nauseous now that my fantasies were starting to seem like they might come to fruition.
Eventually she came out of the house with the dog, and I gave her a sheepish hug and a peck on the cheek. I was pleasantly surprised by her appearance. She looked pretty adorable, with soft, full lips, beautiful eyes… she looked nervous, honest, a bit cheeky – basically like an attractive, ‘normal’ person, which was a relief. We started chatting, and the conversation flowed easily, talking about our lives and sharing funny stories. Her accent was incredibly sexy, and I felt an increasingly strong desire to just lean in and kiss her, but though she seemed to be enjoying my company, I didn’t see any obvious signs she was the dirty hornbag I’d been sexting with. I was worried that perhaps it was all talk, and she might think I was a creep if I made a move so soon. I was probably just being shy – she did seem to want to spend a long time walking through a dark, deserted park, which would have provided the perfect cover for a heavy make out session (or more), but I held back, and we finished the walk without event. I gave her a hug and a slightly more familiar kiss on the cheek, waved good bye with a ‘really nice to meet you’, hopped in the car and drove home.
I texted her as soon as I got in to let her know I was home safe, and added ‘I really wanted to kiss you in the park but didn’t want to be a creep’, to which she replied ‘I would have let you’. Fuck. But, rationally, I felt like I’d done the right thing – we’d had the chance to see each other in person, and could now make an informed decision as to whether we wanted to take things further. Then came the message I was waiting for – she was finishing work the next day, did I want to meet for coffee? Hell yes. I went to bed happy, though not sure exactly how we were going to segue coffee into sex when neither of us had a place to host…
You know when you sleep on a problem and the answer comes to you the next morning? Clearly my subconscious had been in overdrive all night, scheming away on the best way to get me laid, because when I woke up I had the ingenious realisation – why not just book a hotel? Excited, I texted Amelie the suggestion, only to be immediately shot down… ‘haha, that would make me a bit of a hoe, no?’ I had to admit in the cold light of day, suggesting booking a cheap hotel for our second date didn’t quite have the glamorous shine that my fevered imagination had given it. I hastily backtracked, allowing that it was just a crazy idea and of course a coffee was fine.
‘Kiss me first and then we’ll see x’
Hot damn. Maybe she was down. All I had to do was give her the kiss of her life, and I could whisk her off the Travelodge for an afternoon of no-holds barred depravity.
The appointed time for our ‘coffee’ rolled around and I was feeling pretty nervous. This all seemed a little crazy, and I had the feeling that maybe my dick was leading me very far away from socially acceptable behaviour. But then Amelie got in the car (I’d agreed to pick her up) and I just wanted her. All the sexting and the thoughts of wild, risky sex had turned my logical brain to mush, and I just needed her. I said something lame like ‘I kind of just want to kiss you right now’ and leaned in. Her lips met mine eagerly, and it felt incredible. We were greedy for each other, tongues exploring each others lips, biting, sucking… she was good at this (they don’t call it French kissing for nothing). I slid my hand over her thigh, up her leg, our faces glued together. She was moaning softly, and I knew exactly where I wanted this to go. After a few minutes of making out, I pulled away and asked her what she wanted to do. Understandably she was still a bit nervous (as was I), and I started to reassure that if she just wanted to go for coffee that would be absolutely fine, I didn’t want to push her at all.. but she just said ‘OK – let’s go to a hotel’.
I was overjoyed and terrified all at the same time, and tried to just focus on driving. She was making small talk, but I was struggling to even comprehend what she was saying with the adrenaline rushing through me. I had never done anything remotely like this, and the anxiety of it all just made it that much more exciting. Thankfully the hotel wasn’t far. We kissed again when we got out of the car. The nerves were palpable for both of us. Much as I wanted this, I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so I was probably excessively asking if she was OK – honestly I can’t even remember what I was saying, my brain was barely functioning on any rational level at this point. We got in the hotel, and I had to book a room on my phone, they didn’t take bookings at the desk. Fiddling around with online booking menus was the last thing I needed, but I guess my extreme focus on just getting her alone in bed with me was enough to save me, because in a surprisingly short amount of time I’d got us a twin room for the night.
—————————————————————————–
We got our key, stepped in the lift and were immediately all over each other. Any doubts in my mind were rapidly fading – it was clear how badly we both wanted this. Out of the lift, a short walk down the corridor, and there was the room. We bundled inside and grabbed each other, our mouths locked together, hands exploring each others bodies. She reached down and started rubbing her hand over my already impossibly hard cock, then started unbuckling my belt. I gladly assisted, undoing my trousers for her, and she dropped to her knees in front of me.
I should say at this point – I had not had a blowjob in a very, very long time. My ex was not keen at all, and it was always a source of huge frustration, as I love the visual of a girl taking me in her mouth. To be honest the actual act had never felt as amazing as it looked, but still…
This was, hands down, the best bj I have ever received. She took me in her mouth and it just felt incredible. I don’t know how she did it… something about the suction, or the pressure, or just the fact that she was so enthusiastically taking me as deep as she could go. I was groaning out loud in pleasure, telling her how fucking amazing it felt. I used to feel guilty about getting head because I knew my ex wasn’t into it – with Amelie, it was clear she just loved having me in her mouth. And that made me feel fantastic. I couldn’t get enough. I grabbed her hair and used her mouth, pushing myself inside her, making her gag on me. I told her to look at me, and seeing her beautiful eyes looking up at me with her lips wrapped around my cock was impossibly sexy. She moved to my balls, stroking me as she licked and sucked on them, the feeling practically orgasmic.
‘You have a beautiful cock.’
God damn. This girl was incredible. I hoisted her up, threw her down on the bed, and started pulling her clothes off as fast as I could. She was smiling at me as I tugged her trousers and panties off in one sweep – she was loving this. I got between her legs and wasted no time in running my tongue over her soaked pussy, burying my face between her legs as she whimpered with pleasure. I went slow, making circles around her clit, loving the musky smell of her, the feel of her in my mouth. She was writhing on the bed, pushing herself against my tongue, gyrating in rhythm with me. I slipped a finger inside her, slowly grazing against the walls of her vagina as I kept up the steady circling of her clit. She was moaning louder, and then begging for me to fuck her. I was in no state to argue.
I leapt up and grabbed a condom, hastily rolling it down over my cock before climbing on top of her. I looked down at her, full of desire, her big eyes wide, begging for me to fill her up, to be inside her. I dragged my cock across her pussy, lubricating myself, before I lined up and started pushing into her. The first moment when you enter a woman is just an indescribably amazing feeling. The warmth, the pressure, the texture… evolution has done a cracking job of making a woman’s vagina feel fucking incredible. Amelie was groaning in satisfaction, and I must have said something along the lines of ‘fucking fuck that feels so fucking good’. I gradually picked up pace, using my hips to push inside her as far as I could, grinding on her clit as I began to set the tempo. I held onto her hard, levering myself into her, feeling that total connection, my mind a blank, focusing only on the pleasure, the synchronous motion of our bodies coming together.
She had told me in our sexts that she liked choking, and I was more than happy to oblige. Something about the power dynamic, I don’t even know, but having my hand around my neck as I fucked her as hard as I could was incredibly hot. She was clearly enjoying it, moaning, writhing, calling out ‘yes, yes, yes’ as I pounded into her. I had a sudden brainwave, and told her ‘say something in French’. She started pleading in her native tongue, and though I hadn’t the faintest idea what she was actually saying (other than the obvious ‘oui, oui, oui’), it was a major turn on. Spurred on by her indecipherable dirty talk, I flipped her over, taking her from behind and really going to town, the mechanical advantages of doggy style allowing me to fuck her even harder. I slapped her ass and she called out ‘yes! Slap me again’, so I laid into her, leaving big red marks where I abused her round ass as I piled into her. I reached forwards and yanked her hair back, which resulted in louder moans and more gasps of ‘oui, oui!’.
At this point I was starting to tire, so I moved to lay down on the bed, and she eagerly climbed on top of me. She was grinding on me, her perky breasts jiggling away, allowing me a chance to catch my breath as I relaxed and just enjoyed the view, and the feeling of her incredibly tight pussy sliding along my cock.
‘Your dick feels so good inside me, it’s perfect.’
Dirty talk has always been a big turn on for me, and she was killing it. This was turning out to be probably one of the best sexual experiences of my life.
After I’d had time to regain my breath, I grabbed her and threw her back down on the bed, getting on top again and taking control. She reached a hand down to rub her clit as I fucked her, and I could tell she was getting close. I kept going hard, as she cried out ‘don’t stop, don’t stop’, and pretty soon she was cumming, her head back, gasping for breath as I slowed the pace down and kissed her, deeply. She looked up at me and said ‘I want you to cum inside me’, as if I needed encouragement. I started to gradually up the speed, and then switched up, pulling her ass off the bed, her legs up over my shoulders as I straightened up, grabbed her hips, and just fucked her as hard and fast as I could. Our bodies were slapping together loudly, our breathing ragged, my muscles aching all over but I didn’t care, just focused on furiously fucking this nymphomaniac French girl into oblivion. I could feel my orgasm building and I kept up the pace, pushing myself well beyond the physical limits I would have felt if I had been doing anything else but this. Finally I felt the familiar tingle, the rush of pleasure through my body, and I came inside her, gasping out, pushing myself into her as deep as I could, collapsing on top of her as the fatigue finally kicked in and I fell forward, spent, exhausted, but so fucking content.
Needless to say, we’ll be doing that again.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/aanxq7/finally_got_on_tinder_it_was_worth_the_wait_mf
Fuck great story man
perhaps she is a keeper ;)
WHAT PROFILE ADJUSTMENTS?
Cool story, tho
That quip about evolution had me rolling, great stuff man!
As someone who just went through a post breakup tinder spree, wear a rubber man.
They might act coy and shy but the reality is, most women can have 10x the action as you can, and you don’t know what kind of tag along they’ve got.