A funny thing happened on the way to this confession — or, rather, when I say “We had some laughs,” I mean it in a literal sense.
I have an imperfect system for remembering the years in which things happened, especially if they happened around the turn of the millennium. I have to place a rendezvous in context, in terms of events happening in the world at large. As said, it’s not entirely perfect but it does the job well enough, often enough.
I can place this one in fall 2000 with certainty, though, given that our first meeting coincided with a campaign rally in that year’s Congressional election. (No, good Lord, not my campaign. Way too many skeletons in this closet. We just met for the first time on a day that I had to attend said rally.)
That we even connected at all was only due to an outside influence — her cousin, actually.
The day we met was a Sunday afternoon. I’d been in a Yahoo chatroom for a few minutes, just seeing who was around from my area, when a message popped up. It was from a woman who didn’t live in my area — but her cousin, who lived about an hour away, would be passing through my area that day.
Apparently, the cousin in question was going through a pretty rough divorce and could use a little fun, and would I be interested if the cousin was up for it?
Short answer: I would — for the obvious reason that fun is always a good thing to have, and because the somewhat surreal nature of the whole thing *(Hey, want to fool around with my cousin?)* meant I had to go along for the ride. To do so would have been, frankly, ungrateful to whatever spirits of chance had conspired to make this happen.
So my messenger messaged her cousin and explained the situation, describing me and my situation, and apparently the whole thing interested her as well. The cousin messaged me, we talked about what she was looking for (just oral, which was fine by me — I have a pretty wide pleaser streak). That agreed upon, we worked out a meeting place (not far from the campaign rally) and time (about an hour before then).
She got there about five minutes after I did, and I hopped in her passenger seat. She was in her late 20s (to my 37 at the time), with short sandy-brown hair. She was thick through the hips, which you know I like, and seemed from our quick hello to be fun-loving, open-minded — and in dire need of a mouth between her thighs.
So we drove for a bit — and lo and behold, wound up parked (in broad daylight, mind you) on an access road on the very community college where I had to attend the campaign rally later. Given the short timeframe, we got straight to the dirty part. We made out for a few minutes, during which she took off one leg of her jeans and her panties, and then she lay back against the driver’s side door with her legs spread.
Two things were quickly apparent. One, it didn’t take her long to reach orgasm. Two, she laughed uncontrollably when she came. Make that three things; she also loved being licked fast and had. So within a minute, she was gasping and giggling and laughing out loud and bucking her hips, and I was hanging on tight and enjoying the hell out all of this.
After about seven minutes, with a couple of breaks when she’d gasp “waitwaitwait” between giggles, she declared that she couldn’t take any more. Then, although I hadn’t expected it, she gave me a blowjob that made my toes curl. Then she took me back to my car and I went to the campaign rally with an idiotic grin on my face and the taste of her still on my tongue.
*Wait,* I hear you saying right now. *Where’s the fucking? Don’t all of your stories have fucking in them?*
Patience, people. Not to worry. I’m getting to that. Right now, as a matter of fact.
About a month later, I was at a work function in a college town about halfway between my city and hers. I wouldn’t be finished until around 11 p.m., but I messaged her anyway and asked if she was up for some more car play.
She was. So around 11:30 that night, I was back in her passenger seat and we were once more looking for a place to park. We found one — behind a fraternity house, right by the football stadium. This time, there were no preliminaries. She peeled off her pants and her panties and assumed the position, and I happily dived in.
The next few minutes were another frenzy of gasping and laughing and intermittent moments of “waitwaitwait”, and my face was thoroughly soaked when she pulled away and waited for the giggles and spasms to subside.
She sat up and reached for me, and I thought (naturally) that this was going to be a repeat of the last time.
Not this time.
“Lean your seat back,” she said. I wasted no time complying, and the the next thing I knew she was straddling me and lowering her still-sopping pussy down onto my cock.
She was quick to come and a laugher during sex, too — and where that had been a lot of fun when I was going down on her, it was both insanely hot and insanely challenging while she was riding me.
Every time she laughed, you see, it made her pussy clench. And when her pussy clenched, she laughed harder because — well, because every clench was one more spasm in pretty much one long orgasm, and that just turned things up one more notch, and — yeah, you get the picture. Because every time she clamped down, that got *me* even closer. It’s a good thing she was so wet, or I’d have either fired off in the first two minutes (which nobody wants) or she would have ripped my cock loose from its moorings with all of that clenching and clamping.
Plus, as you well know, laughter is contagious. So her laughing got me laughing, which made my cock twitch, which — look, you’re all smart people. You know what that did to her, and what that did to me in return, until all of a sudden both of our laughs turned into a long, hard, urgent UHHHHHH. She let go, soaking me even more, and I was right there with her.
Thank God she had a towel in the back seat, because we needed it. Probably could have done with two, but you go with what you have.
But before that, we took a few minutes to come down — a few minutes of residual laughter and twitching and clenching and gasping until we were both all the way back to earth.
We cleaned up as best as we could (though I did a load of laundry and took a shower when I got home, just to be safe), and she drove me back to the parking lot where she’d picked me up. A couple of weeks later, her divorce was final and she moved out of state.
I’ve never been with someone like that since, though I’m sure there are others out there for whom sex is most definitely a laughing matter. And you know what they say about laughter being the best medicine.
At least, it definitely cured anything that might have ailed me that night.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ccgc73/a_laughing_matter_true_story_xpost_from