Explosive chemistry at Tinder tryst [MF]

This happened within the last year. I enjoy writing but haven’t attempted anything like this before. I thought revisiting some memories might be a constructive use of my lockdown sexual frustration…

Summer had been boring, filled with work and family occasions. The air was still warm and hazy when I returned to university with one thing on my mind. In the parks men went topless and women sunbathed in their underwear, while both parties allowed their eyes to wander behind their sunglasses. By the evening summer dresses were the uniform of choice, usually revealing deliciously sleek legs. I redownloaded Tinder and tried to keep my expectations low. Like most people I find dating apps hit and miss, but this time the algorithm gods were more than generous.

Among the handful of matches I got in the first couple of days, I decided to take a more direct approach than usual. One match challenged me with an innuendo laden riddle which triggered an increasingly provocative conversation. She was keen to meet, requesting a venue near my house so things could progress quickly if we clicked in real life. Was this a practical joke? Could I be walking into a kidnapping by kidney dealers? Better choose a bar in neutral territory. For various reasons neither of us could host on the evening of the date, but perhaps we could work something out another day if the chemistry was there.

I got to the bar first. It was early in the week so there weren’t many other customers. I bought a beer and allowed myself a brief moment of nervousness. Most of you know the feeling, I guess. Paranoia about being stood up, catfished or making a fool out of oneself. I needn’t have worried. She arrived after a few minutes and her pictures had undersold her. Tall, with long, bushy auburn hair. Beige trenchcoat belted tightly in the middle to accentuate a voluptuous figure. Plump lips arranged in an easy smile. *Don’t screw this up*.

Although our messaging had been risque, face-to-face things started more conventionally. Favourite places. Languages. Food. Curiosity is an underrated characteristic: learning about people is always worthwhile. We told each other a bit about our pasts and our behaviour as teenagers. She said she was leaving town for good at the weekend and joked about wanting some kind of lustful farewell rendezvous. We laughed about our texts and drank some more beer, inching closer to one another until our thighs touched under the table. Her eyes were bright and inquisitive and her smile was contagious. Under some pretext she put her hand on my shoulder. This was the moment. I leaned in and she responded hungrily.

We paid the bill but had nowhere to go, so roamed the streets in the hope of finding somewhere private, periodically stopping to kiss. In an alleyway she pulled me into a boarded up doorway, where I kissed her on the mouth again, then behind the ear and on her neck. I moved my thigh between her legs and she gasped as we pressed together. She reached downwards and clasped me firmly. I pulled my thigh back and undid the button of her jeans with one hand, slipping between the smoothness of her knickers and her slippery flesh, then gently circled my fingers. Her panting was hot in my ear as I buried myself in her neck. She popped open my jeans and worked her hand up and down. I stopped worrying about passersby in the street at the end of the alley. We increased our speeds. It felt like there was no going back, that the only possibility was to surrender to her hand. Suddenly, a door banged. Voices nearby. We sprang apart, jolted back to the reality of being in a city. Rearranged ourselves while laughing. We walked on and talked on a bench until the night grew cold.

The subsequent days were filled with explicit messages. She untapped something within me; perhaps it was the knowledge that whatever we had would only be fleeting. I wrote long paragraphs detailing my cravings. She responded in kind and included a voice recording of her moaning rhythmically as she touched herself. The thought of her leaving without us enacting some of the message contents enraged me to a comical degree. At home I paced around my room. At work I couldn’t focus. I often seemed to be a victim of this sort of missed opportunity. Just when I was starting to look up hotel prices, she suggested that I come to hers on Friday. Her parents would be gone for the weekend.

We met for a drink first. Again, the odd sensation of having traded carnal desires with someone who you haven’t spent much time with in real life. Knowing and yet unknowing, part of the thrill of any one-night stand or holiday romance. Our conversation was intensified by an air of excitement about what might be to come.

At her place she poured us both glasses of white wine. She left me drinking on the sofa and reappeared a few moments later completely naked, inviting me to come through to her bedroom. Bold. Needless to say I needed no encouragement. I stripped off and found her sitting cross legged on the bed. Auburn hair falling over generous breasts. Mischievous smile.

We kissed deeply. Having already shed our clothes the temptation was to skip any sort of foreplay entirely, but I didn’t want to rush. I worked my way down with my lips, paying special attention to her swollen nipples. Her breathing became heavier. Leaving her waist, I moved to her thighs, nibbling and kissing each in turn. As I switched between them I allowed my mouth to graze her glistening lower lips. Back again, until it was too much for both of us. She said something about me being a tease. I replied by starting to slowly suck and tongue her while using one hand to caress her breasts. From above I could hear noises similar to the ones in the voice message. She angled herself towards my face as I increased the intensity, trying to find the sensation that would bring her closer to the edge. She grabbed the back of my head and pushed me into her, a move that has always been a weakness of mine. For a few minutes she squirmed in delicious agony as I feasted upon her, relishing the effect my tongue was having. Then, she pushed me away and ordered me to roll over.

She straddled my chest, twisting slightly so she could play with me using her hand. I tried to lean forward but my mouth couldn’t reach her chest, so instead I massaged her thighs. She produced a condom from somewhere and slid it into place with the efficiency of a magic trick. Almost as part of the same sequence of movements, she lifted slightly, squatted backwards, and lowered herself on to me. It felt exquisite. Flicking her hair out of her eyes, she started to grind forwards and backwards, up and down. Reader, I’m only a mortal: I lasted mere seconds. All I could do was laugh and promise that I’d be ready again in due course.

We returned to the sofa and sat apart from one another, me in my boxers and her in a clingy night dress. The wine had barely been touched. More talking, this time about her future, where she was moving to, what she hoped to achieve there. After a while she climbed on to me again and we kissed lazily. The dress hung loosely, exposing a nipple that looked like an inverted raspberry. I took it in my mouth. She could feel me stirring again so asked if I wanted to head back to the bedroom. On the mattress, she told me to lie down and began some hand teasing of her own. I thought I might still be in recovery, but then she licked her lips and substituted her hands for mouth. The swirling of her tongue caused me to slowly stiffen. I shuffled slightly so I could reach her other lips with my fingers, thrilling at her muffled gasp.

And now the choice that many a better man than I has faced. She had resurrected me but was in danger of causing another expiry. It was horribly tempting to continue as we were, but I told her I wanted to fuck her. And properly this time, I thought privately. She found another condom to confirm her agreement, and got on all fours. Palms and knees on the bed, round arse pointing towards me. I grasped myself and rubbed her underside before sliding in. Primal feelings. Back and forth quickly. One hand grasped a bunch of her hair. With the other I tried to find her clit but the tempo made coordination impossible.

I retracted and she rolled onto her back. Legs slightly apart, eager to receive me. I kissed her. Guided my firmness into her wetness. Slowly, in and out. Long strokes. Deep strokes, ensuring maximum contact. One hand for support, the other toying with her nipples. She moaned appreciatively, mouth half open, eyes half closed. Legs wrapped around me to draw me closer and deeper. I increased the speed. She then did something that had never happened to me before and that on paper I’m not sure I like much, but at that moment was electrifying. Took my hand and put it on her neck. I applied a whisker of pressure and she cried out in pleasure. We continued the rhythm, bodies slick, both emitting noises beyond our control. Afterwards, we lay aside one another and she clutched my hand. She was trembling.

Afterword: As was expected, we didn’t see each other again. And who knows, perhaps if our meeting had been in less transient circumstances inhibitions would have dulled the intensity of our lustful messages and subsequent physical antics. The chemistry was explosive. I will remember the liaison until I am a bow-legged old man. I hope I made a similar impression on her, and that you enjoyed a taste of the experience through my words ;).

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/g1bwbg/explosive_chemistry_at_tinder_tryst_mf