[M] Hooking Up With A Classmate From College [F] Who Helps Me Forget My Ex

(After reading this post: [https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d48vsn/i_met_up_with_a_high_school_friend_i_hadnt_seen/](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d48vsn/i_met_up_with_a_high_school_friend_i_hadnt_seen/) I was inspired to write about my own adventures after a really bad break relationship and break-up)

My ex was toxic, but it took me forever to realize it. She was passive aggressive, put walls up when she didn’t get her way, and expect me to always be happy-go-lucky. She had had several poor relationships herself before me, so I kept thinking that she would eventually grow out of it, learn that *I* was different. I was wrong.

While we had still been together, I went to school for a professional certificate, and met many people who were going into the same field as me. One of them, was Emma. At the time, everyone in my classes knew that I was attached, and we got to know each other as friends and future colleagues, but nothing more than that.

Fast forward several years to after I broke up with my ex. Emma had posted on social media about a new project at work that she was going to get involved in. I had just finished a similar project, so I offered to help. She quickly DM’d me her phone number, so that I could call her and talk her through how I had approached the problem. We talked for a couple of hours, and she insisted that she buy me dinner and/or drinks to thank me for saving her butt at work. I accepted.

Now, I hadn’t seen Emma in several years, and the years had been very kind to her. In my mind, if she was a celebrity doppleganger, she will always be the spitting image of [Anastasia Griffith](https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1473013/mediaviewer/rm913479936). Beautiful, the lines of her face emphasizing a love for life and laughter and smiling, but piercing and hauntingly beautiful eyes, and long blonde hair.

We met at a local bar downtown, known for its beer and food. We caught up, talked and laughed. We talked about the old days when we had been in school, our first impressions of each other (I found out she had always wanted me, but had kept it to herself), past relationship woes, and problems at work. As we talked for hours, the drinks kept coming, and we started to angle our chairs closer to each other as the bar got noisier and it got harder to hear. It meant our legs were close to touching, and she could occasionally reach out and touch my arm. No one had paid that much attention to what I said in a long time, and it was a heady feeling knowing that someone was actually listening, really listening.

As the night wore on, Emma suggested we go find another bar (there were several in a row), and see what others drinks we may find. I agreed, happy to spend more time with her, and honestly just wanting to get out of the noisy crowd for a few minutes while we walked in the cool night air. As we walked, she looped her arm through mine, the conversation never ending. Such a small and endearing thing to do, but it made me feel so alive and good.

As we neared where we were headed, Emma turned to me, still arm and arm, and said, “This place looks packed too. I live a couple blocks from here, and I have beer at home. It’d be quieter and we could keep talking there…”

Naively, I said, “That sounds nice. I’m getting a little tired of having to shout at you just to talk, and I’m enjoying our conversation.” It hadn’t occurred to me that there may have been more to the night yet.

When we got to her place, Emma opened up her laptop and started a playlist of blues music (more The Black Keys than B.B. King) as we talked. I excused myself to use her restroom, and as I came back she was standing in middle of the living room. She reached our her arms to me.

“Come dance with me.”

I moved into her arms, and felt them close around me. I looked into her eyes, so close to mine, and said softly, “I’m not really good at dancing.”

We started swaying together, to the music, jokingly and badly spinning her, like in rom-com movies. After a few minutes, when she came back into my arms after a spin, she reached up and pulled my head down to hers, and we kissed. It was electric, and soft, and tender, all at the same time.

I don’t know how long we stood there, rocking slowly from side to side, our lips pressed together. Eventually, Emma’s hands began unbuttoning the flannel shirt I had on. I helped her with the buttons, and as she pulled it off and dropped it on the floor, I hooked my fingers in the hem of the shirt she was wearing, and pulled it up over her head, her blond hair falling down around her breasts. My breath caught.

“My god. You’re stunning, Emma.”

Still kissing, hands exploring each other, we finished undressing each other. She took my hand, and led me to the couch, gently pushing me down into a sitting position, my erection sticking straight up.

“You’re ex is a stupid bitch to let you go.”

I chuckled as she reached over, grasping my cock in her hands, and leaned forward to take it into her mouth. My head rolled back and I moaned, her mouth feeling indescribably amazing. It had been so long for something other than my own hand, thanks to the failing relationship with my ex.

As her head bobbed up and down, I reached over and caressed her sides and back, the undersides of her breasts, and I gently pinched her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. She looked up, grinning with lust, saying, “I need you inside of me.”

She swung her hips over my lap, positioned me at her entrance, and slid me deep inside of her, settling down into my lap, all the way to my base. Our bare skin pressing together, her breasts pillowing against my chest; we kissed again, tender and hungry for each other. Her hips began rocking forward and backwards, sliding up and down slightly as she found a rhythm. My hands explored her hips, breasts, and torso, as our panting breathe fell into sync, our bodies finding a harmony together.

The tempo of our bodies increased, our moans becoming louder. I looked at her, not knowing how to phrase the question only mind, but knowing their wasn’t much time to ask it.

“Cum in me. I’m on birth control. I want give you an experience to remember after so much heartache.”

And boy do I remember.

She plunged down into my lap, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed her hips, holding her there as my cock began to spasm and spurt, my warm cum filling her. The twitching inside of her pushed her over the edge, her pussy rhythmically pulsing around me, milking every drop I had to give her.

Even though we didn’t end dating or anything like that, that wasn’t the last time we hooked up. That night or after…

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d4jpdo/m_hooking_up_with_a_classmate_from_college_f_who