The Day I [M]et the Love of My Li[F]e

No one expects Tinder to generate any kind of quality connection anymore. I [M] certainly didn’t. But I’d been divorced for two years, hadn’t had ANY intimate contact for longer, and the bar scene looked like an STD slideshow in a high school health class. So, I gave in and put that iconic fire icon on my home screen.

I knew to manage my expectations. The internet was very clear: being a guy trying to get a date on Tinder is almost as difficult as trying to become a professional athlete. So, I didn’t get my hopes up.

But soon it became a game for me. If I were a hammer, puzzles would be my nail. Learning the best Tinder-game strategy kept me going back, kept me swiping even when I never matched. For example, I knew that I couldn’t compete on looks alone. But if I showed some personality in my pics, my probability of catching a lady’s attention would bump up. Thus, my main pic was me pointing over my shoulder at Christmas decorations in a store with a” WTF” look on my face (it wasn’t even November, for godsakes!).

It turns out that was a winning strategy.

The matches started rolling in. Nothing impressive, but maybe once a week or so I’d match. And they were all duds. No dates, no interesting people. Mostly ladies looking to satiate their vanity hunger.

But then I matched with her [F].

By this time I had developed a post-match strategy: no gimmicks, just being interested in her and highlighting our similarities. Despite the fact that all I really wanted was to fuck (being married to a sociopath for 15 years really strips the relationship drive away), I was committed to making her feel comfortable, safe, and interested enough to escalate without coming straight out with the DTF question.

For her part, she was gracious, sweet, and engaging. The conversations flowed easy, and I felt myself being much more open than I’d ever wanted to be.

One night as we texted back and forth while getting into bed, I decided to take a risk.

Me: I didn’t think this would happen, but the hardest part of being divorced is going to bed alone.

Her: I know! (She is divorced, as well). Even though I hate my ex, I hate the empty space next to me almost as much.

Me: You don’t have to think of it as being empty. I can be there with you tonight.

Her: Mmmm, that sounds nice.

Me: If I were there, I’d slip a hand around your waist and pull your hips into mine.

Her: ???

Me: I’d brush the hair away from your neck, and gently kiss your neck, softly, sweetly.

Her: Ohhhh, getting my neck kissed sends waves through my body. I’d arch my back and press my ass against you.

Me: As you arch into me and feel my hardness pressing against you, slipping between your thighs, I pull you into me more with one hand, and with the other caress your breasts.

Her: Fuck I’m so horny.

This was my moment. I could win big or blow it all to hell.

Me: I want to meet you.

She was silent. Dammit, I blew it! Then…

Her: I’d like that.

We arranged to meet at a restaurant, then said sweet good-nights.

Her: Goodnight. I can’t wait for Friday.

Me: Goodnight, darling.

It was Monday, and Friday seemed so distant I wasn’t sure it even existed. But I was so excited, I couldn’t sleep. I was hard, throbbing; my dick knew something I wasn’t ready to consciously admit.

Sleep finally came, and the next day our conversations continued. I was careful about being too overtly sexual, afraid to scare her off. But my brain down under was taking over, and my dick was more willing to take risks my head upstairs was able to control.

Me: I can’t wait to meet you. If you’re half as beautiful as your profile pics, well… I’ll try to be a gentleman.

Her: I don’t know what your week looks like, but my Wednesday night just opened up.

Me (Literally dancing as I type): Yeah, that probably works. Same place?

Her: Yeah.

By this time my dick had turned Pavlovian. Every text notification caused instant arousal. I kept trying to keep my expectations in check, but it was a lost cause. The thought of even hugging her was enough to send electricity pulsing through me. My cock was dripping with precum all day, and I had been so hard for so long that I was considering going to the hospital.

The day of our first date, she probed me about personal details. I was worried she was getting cold feet. Luckily I have an online presence through my employer and Alma Maters. She was able to verify my identity and give all my information to her best friend.

When she trusted me, she let her guard down again, and things turned steamy.

Her: Fuck the restaurant. Can I cook you dinner? At my place?

Me (feeling surprised at her sudden forwardness): Of course! But are you comfortable with that? I like you, and I don’t want to spoil anything….

Her: I’ve taken precautions.

Me: Okay. Then that sounds wonderful.

Driving to her place, I was a wreck. I kept telling myself that it was just going to be dinner, that I would be a gentleman, and that I would be perfectly happy to end the night with a hug if that’s how things went.

When I arrived, I saw her peering through her front window. As I approached her front door, she opened it and stepped into the doorway.

The next few moments were a blur. I can’t even be sure I said anything, or that what I said was even approximately cogent. When our eyes met, a smile sprung across her face. I could see the surge that ran through her body, and blood instantly rushed to my dick, filling my shaft with a speed I couldn’t react to.

I was entranced by her green eyes, by the curves of her silhouette in the doorway. As I approached her, our bodies magnetized. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close. My cock pressed against my pants, and I know she could feel me pulsing, growing. But instead of pulling away she leaned in further.

As we released that first embrace, one of my hands slipped to her hip. She turned to bring me in to her home, but my hand was glued. A sudden panic overcame me; I was losing control. But as she shut the door, she turned again to face me. Our eyes met, and my hands instinctively pulled her in to me.

Now, it’s a point of dispute between me and her as to what happened next. I’m certain that I glanced down at her lips, lost all control, and pressed mine into hers. But she says she initiated the kiss when she placed her hand on my chest. Either way, all control had been lost. For both of us.

Her lips were like plump velvet, and we melted together. As our lips moved together, embracing, caressing, pulling, my hands moved up her body. Over the dip in her back, across her full, thick hips. Her hair was silk, and she tasted sweet. We were locked in a dance, and our bodies moved intuitively with each other, as if we were two flowing and swirling ribbons.

Then something took over me. As she let out a soft moan, a low, quiet growl pushed out from deep inside me. I felt a sudden surge of aggression, and threw her to the couch. She went, submissively, and landed on her back with her legs spread outwards. I threw myself on top of her, planting my hips between her legs. One hand pressed against her chest as a finger creeped upwards to her throat.

She grabbed my hips and pulled me against her. Her jaw dropped and she gasped as I grasped her bottom lip with mine.

A sudden urge overwhelmed my body again. I lifter her and rolled my back against the couch. She was seated on me, and began sliding her hips across my throbbing cock. Her jaw dropped again, and a sigh slipped out. Instinctively, my hands slipped up her shirt and under her bra. In an instant her top was off, her shirt and bra strewn across the floor. My hands swarmed her full breasts, her firm nipples sliding between my fingers. I smothered one heaving tit with my mouth, my lips pulling at her nipple, my teeth grazing her skin.

Another low growl pushed from deep within. I stood up, her legs wrapped around my waist, and dug my fingers into her thick ass. Her feet dropped to the ground and she whispered, “Do you want to move to my bed?”

Me: “Uh, YEAH!”

She pulled my hand as we headed to her room. In a quick, agile move, she spun me around and pushed me onto the bed. Before I could make my own move, she was undoing my belt and pants.

She was hungry.

In the next instant my pants and underwear were off. She grasped my shaft and pulled it towards her mouth. SHE WAS MASTERFUL. Wrapping her tongue around me as she slid her mouth up and down; forcing me against the back of her throat, my head slipping down inside her. Stroking me and pressing her full breasts against my pelvis, dragging her nipples over my legs, caressing and pulling on my balls.

I thought I was going to explode. It had been so long, I didn’t think I’d be able to last more than 10 seconds. But the same instant that thought entered my mind, another pushed it out. SHE’S CRAVING ME!

Suddenly, the animal inside took over my body again. In one fluid movement I sat up, threw her on her back, and stripped her pants and underwear off. Her pussy glistened, beckoning me. I moved over her, straddling her with my arms. My lips grasped hers, and with another low growl, I pushed inside her.

Her jaw dropped and a gasp fell out. I moved smoothly, sliding rhythmically back and forth, pressing my pelvis into her as our lips tangled and danced.

Another growl pushed from inside me. Louder, deeper. I pulled up and gripped the back of her thighs, my pulsing cock thrusting harder, deeper. My pelvis slammed against hers with a loud THWACK! Over and over. Faster, harder. Instinctively my hand moved to her throat. Her jaw dropped again as I gripped her throat and pressed my fingers against her jugular. She clawed at the sheets, ecstasy in her eyes, as I pounded into her.

She released the sheet and gripped her breast with one hand, the other sliding towards her red, swollen pussy. As I thrust into her harder, and squeezed her throat more tightly, she moaned “I’m gonna cum.” She began vigorously rubbing her clit, embracing the coming wave.

As if on cue, I felt my own inescapable surge growing, filling my entire body.

Beneath me I could see the orgasmic wave overtake her. She writhed underneath me, groaning, her chest red, her pussy gripping then releasing my cock. In perfect sync, I exploded. As her pussy squeezed my dick with each wave of her orgasm, I pulsed against her, cum spilling out with each pulse. As we continued our orgasmic dance, I leaned down and pressed my mouth against hers. Everything was in sync: our pulsing orgasms, our lips, and even our breaths.

As my orgasm subsided, my hips moved back into rhythm. She sighed, then bit her lip. Our eyes connected as I continued to gently rock back and forth inside her. Her eyes twinkled and said, “Don’t stop.”

We rolled around in her bed for 7 more hours, pausing occasionally to catch our breath, or just hold each other. I told her stories about my life, and she opened her heart to me. We laughed and moaned as we danced on the sheets.

And we fell in love.

We’ve been together for three years now, and every day I fall more in love with her. I didn’t expect to find love on Tinder, but when we connected, fate took over.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ega4h3/the_day_i_met_the_love_of_my_life