Can’t stop thinking of my [25F] last hook-up with a [33M] before quarantine

I’ve been in quarantine for three weeks. That entire time, I’ve been turning over the same memories before I go to sleep. The memory of my last hookup. This night turned out to be a gift to myself: My raw lips, the day after. My sore pussy. My body, warm from being held the whole night through.

These memories are the gift.

It was just supposed to be a second date. We were meeting at a bar. But the second i saw him there, wearing a puffy jacket and smiling at me, I knew it would be more than a second date. You know when you meet someone, and you’re pretty sure there’s a weather pattern happening in your chest, when you’re around them? Like you can’t control what’s happening but you know not to worry, it’s completely natural? Yeah, it was that.

Even talking to him was futile. I couldn’t form a sentence. I was so distracted by him—his half smile, his smell, his deep voice that touched the core of me, that silenced me.

Guess he was distracted by me, too, because 10 minutes in—not even—when we were standing by the bar, he stopped talking. And in that pause, he leaned in and kissed me.

From then on, we were badly behaved. I mean, I haven’t been this raunchy in public maybe…*ever*. And frankly, I probably never will be again. We were kissing each other like it was the last time we’d ever kiss each other. Thirsty, is the word. We kept breaking off make-out sessions with smiles, and gazing into each other’s eyes.

At one point, he looked at me and said, “It’s just chemistry, with you. We can’t make this up.” He told me he loved the taste of my mouth. I knew he was hard, just from the way he was sitting. I grazed my hand against his jeans just to be sure. Yep. Hard.

I liked being around him in public. I liked being seen with him. He was incredibly handsome, so to be practically attached to his face was a turn-on, like I was hotter, just from soaking up his aura.

Then he took me dancing. He was the kind of guy who could cut through a crowd. I held his hand as he took me onto the dance floor. We alternated between dancing like goofballs and dancing like we were about to fuck. He pulled me to the back corner and started making out with me more heavily. He pulled my hair back and started kissing my neck. Before I knew it, he was biting me, gently, on my neck. Then harder. He bit my cheek. What?! I know. But it was hot?! I know! Certain things are inexplicable.

Then, he snaked his hand up my shirt. I let him play with my nipples in that packed, sweaty room. But I would’ve let him do anything, to be honest. He could’ve fucked me on the dance floor. He was a puzzle, and I wanted to unlock him with my body.

Anyway, that’s pretty much what ended up happening. We went back to my place, because duh. When there is lightning and thunder in your body you have to ride out the storm, right?

When I tell you all it was the best sex of my life, I need you to believe me. The power! The fury! This man *manhandled* me. I’m super tall, so was surprised by his might, his ability to throw me around.

He confidently took off his clothes and got into my bed and waited for me. I joined him but kept my underwear on, because I wanted the satisfaction of having him take them off. He did, and then he had me sit on his face for a while. I bent my whole back so my head was resting near his cock and let him eat my pussy. I didn’t get a super good look at his cock, at the time, so that left a *big* surprise for later.

BIG surprise. Literally.

He positioned me on top of him. There wasn’t much of a choice, with him–my body was going where he wanted it to go. After lots of making out, I felt him start to explore with my pussy with his fingers. Then I felt something fill my pussy up. *Ok,* I thought. *That’s his cock*. I started to ride it like it was his cock. It wasn’t big, but it was doable.

Then something else came into my pussy. And *that* was his cock. Turns out he was just warning me up. Because he had to. Because otherwise, he’d split my body in two. Oh, my GOD. Usually big cocks really hurt me (I don’t like them!) but he fit me so, so well. I’d never been so satisfied. Like, I almost started crying.

Instead, I let him hold my face as he thrust up into me. We kept *staring* at each other, like getting *drunk* off each other. But soon I broke down, unable to support my torso, and sprawled my body on top of him so he could thrust up into me harder. Then he’d stop for a while and I would ride him, leaning back on my feet so I ride him *and* twist my hips at the same time. It was honestly a tornado.

Then he turned me over to the side so we could hold each other and do more of that “gazing into each other’s eyes” thing. I felt like I was the orchestra, and he was the conductor, and for the first time I was making sounds that were beautiful.

Y’all, we fucked three times that night. Three. Then we woke up. And fucked three more times. Three! Sleep was sweet, too. He cuddled me and kissed me over and over and over, all over my shoulders and neck.

In the morning, he decided to be even dirtier than he was the night before. He turned me over and fucked me doggy style, which was hard to handle, because of his size. I had to inhale sharply and just let him go at it so that I wouldn’t scream and have my roommates think I was in danger. That time, he came inside me. Which I normally don’t do. But as I mentioned, I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me.

He turned me over and fucked me missionary, next. I liked that because I could kiss him, run my fingers through his long, ridiculously thick hair. He wet his finger and stuck it up my ass, which is what I really wanted, but didn’t want to ask. He filled me up completely so that when I rocked back and forth, I was surrounded by him on every side.

Afterwards, we even used the bathroom together, like we were super comfortable with each other. I guess that much is obvious—how couldn’t we be? We got breakfast and took a walk. We kissed. Then…well, you know what happened next. Corona struck.

I left the place where we both were living, for the time being. Not long after, he texted me. He told me he thinks about our night every night. How couldn’t he?! It was magic. Here’s hoping we all get some more of those magic nights back in our lives. What is life without ’em?

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/ftxhu9/cant_stop_thinking_of_my_25f_last_hookup_with_a