Best [f]ender bender of my young life [FM]

So this might be a weird place to start a post on this subreddit, but it’s my post, so bare with me. I am a great driver. I pride myself on being a great driver. My friends agree I am a great driver.

So I kinda rearended this guy’s car this weekend. I can’t offer much of a defense other than I was tired from work, emotionally strained from a recent brake up, and it was raining. I slammed on my brakes a bit too late, and hit him, fortunately not doing more than minor damage to either his car or mine.

My initial reaction was “fuck, his car looks a lot more expensive than mine.” We pulled over and through on our hazards and then my next thought was “fuck, he is really attractive.”

Thom is a bit older than me, 29 to be exact. He stands a lot taller than I do… 6’3 to my 5’4. Slim in a “I do a lot of cardio” kinda way. Light brown hair with a slight beard. Light gray eyes. A way of carrying himself that says he is self-assured without being cocky. So yeah, good thing it was raining because I was about to melt into a puddle at his feet.

I got out of the car, found myself flirting in a way that was way out of character to me. Especially coming off a late shift at the hospital, wearing my scrubs. I smiled a bit when I realized he was okay and both of our cars were more or less fine. “Wow,” I said, “I’m so sorry… I hope this doesn’t set Asian driver stereotypes back another decade.” He couldn’t help but laugh at that, and his laughter was quite infectious. He introduced himself, my hand feeling dainty in his much larger one.

“Well, looks like there wasn’t really much damage done,” he shrugged, looking at the small dent on his back bumper. “Do you think your car is okay?” I shook my head yes. “Well good. I guess we should exchange contact info, you know.. just to be safe,” I could feel him checking me out, and felt myself blushing like I was in high school again.

“yeah, you know.. that sounds like a great idea. In case anything you know… turns out to be wrong?” I stammered more than a bit distracted.

“Or, you know, we could maybe get drinks some time, call the whole thing off,” He shrugged. We didn’t make small talk for long, and honestly I was ready to forget the whole thing. My car had a minor ding, and I thought I had gotten off easy.

That night I was almost surprised when my phone rang. It was the guy, saved at the time in my phone as “Guy Who You Hit”

“Um, hey, nothing is wrong with your car, right?” I blurted out. Because I am a smooth operator.

He laughed. “No, I was hoping we could get that drink.”

So, after much coaxing from my roommate, I decided to go out with the guy. I put on a short black skirt (I am not very tall but I do have nice legs), my favorite bra and panties, and a black top. My hair is currently in a short pixie cut, and I put in my contacts for the night. The final touch were a pair of “seriously, I just got dumped and could use a rebound screw” pumps I borrowed from my roomie. I set off to conquer the world or whatever.

I found Thom to be even more charming when he was relaxed. We chatted for a while, he is new to the city, and recently out of a relationship as well. Just started teaching at a local high school. He roots for the same football team as I do, but his allegiance in basketball is questionable. The entire time he was flirty in an aboveboard, refreshing way.

I never made the first move. I’m also usually I good driver. I made the first move.

“So, how far is your place,” I asked, putting a hand on his knee. Luck would have it, he lived in the neighborhood.

I texted my roommate the address in case anything happened. I even had Thom pose in front of his building.

His apartment was nice, if sparsely decorated. He had a a ton of bookshelves, a small sofa, and a wine rack in the living room.

“I never do this,” I said after we kissed inside his apartment. He pulled back apologetic.

“No, like, I never do this, so I wanted you to know that this is, like, a really big deal,” I said and pulled him back in for a kiss. He is such a good kisser. He seems to have mastered the give and take of kissing, when I want to be in control and when I need him to lead. I felt his hands explore my body, pulling me close. He lifted me, carrying me toward his bedroom.

It was sparsely decorated again, but at least it had a bedframe, which is a big step up from the last guy I was with. He lightly put me down and grinned down at me. Kissed my forehead in a way that could have been patronizing but instead was sweet. “Do you want me to undress you,” he asked. I nodded, maybe a bit too emphatically.

He lifted my top, unclasped my bra. I like to think I have nice breasts for a Korean girl. I’m a 32 B, and they are quite perky , rather full for my frame. He seemed to approve, caressing my nipples lightly.

I fumbled lightly with his buttons on his dress shirt, savoring the feeling of undoing them one by one. I pulled him closer, my tongue moving quickly in his mouth. “Do you have condoms,” I asked, maybe a bit late in the game. I realized I didn’t have any, my ex and I didn’t use them because I am on bc.

“drawer next to you,” he said and I reached back, pulling one out. Magnum XL. I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. All guys like to think they have big dicks, right?

Well, his pants came off and the magnums were not just for his ego. In terms of length I’d say he was an inch or two longer than average. Girth, however was another matter. The damn thing was so thick I could barely close my pointer to my ring around it.

I may have drunkenly mumbled something about his penis being intimidating. I definitely asked if he had lube and was relieved when he did.

Like a true gentleman he prepared me before hand. Kissing down my flat (okay, flat-ish) stomach. Up my smooth calves. Making me spread my legs and finding his way to the sweet spot. I didn’t have time to shave, and my ex was always weird about body hair, so it was a relief he didn’t seem to mind. Liked it in fact.

He moved his tongue slowly, as if deeply enjoying the taste. It wasn’t long before I was rocking my hips, eyes closed.

“Fuck me, please.” I gasped. He was more than happy to oblige. He moved slow. Excruciatingly so. As if he was afraid of breaking me in half. I felt myself open to him inch by inch, loving the pleasure and the pain of it.

He held back until after my first orgasm. then his thrusting became harder, more animalistic. Like he wanted to prove a point.

It hurt.. but like… in a good way. Like the way your muscles hurt after the gym. I felt myself shaking, screaming his name.

I came again, something that almost never happens to me from PIV.

He pulled out, forcing me onto my stomach, taking a hand full of my hair. I let him take control, loving every primal second of it. Taking it as an accomplishment when I finally heard him gasp my name.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/b03tr1/best_fender_bender_of_my_young_life_fm