Rediscovering the passion of vanilla sex after a lot of wild experimentation [FM]

In my past stories I have mentioned that the emotional aspect of sex is incredibly important to me. No matter how big a dick is, I will always prefer a smaller dick on someone I love. I figured I’d tell the story of how I came to this realisation, and about how sex is so much more than putting a dick inside me. The backstory for this is LOOOOOOONG so feel free to skip down to the big marker if you just want to read about me getting shagged.

===========BACKSTORY===========

This took place almost 2 and a half years ago, in the spring of 2018. I was single and had been hopping from bed to bed during the winter to keep warm. I probably slept with upwards of 15 guys that winter – I had been going through some shit and mistook the hole in my heart for the hole between my legs. I had received the results from my January exams and realised that I needed to knuckle down and start working properly instead of sleeping around. One night I agreed to go out with my friends, but I had no plans to go on a mad one or get some dick, I just wanted to have a few drinks and a little boogie. I dressed up a bit, leopard print trousers and a black top, and a long black coat to keep it classy. I did my hair in the mirror and looked myself up and down. I’m 5’7” with olive coloured skin and brown hair. I’m genetically lucky – naturally slim without using the gym and nice C-cup perky boobs. My ass is a bit angular but good enough to hold onto. My legs are really long compared to my torso, and toned.

I walked into town and met my friends – some of them had brought a couple of other friends so the group was a bit larger than expected, and there were a few people I didn’t know. We started at a cheap pub, getting in a few bevvies and then moved on to a slightly nicer place which was a bit quieter. On the way to the second pub I got chatting to Adam. Adam was 5’8”, shorter than me because I had some heels on, with curly blonde hair. He wasn’t ripped, in fact he was pretty average, but he dressed well with a shirt, a simple jumper and nice trousers. He was really interesting and the conversation flowed really easily; when we got to the second pub we sat at a table together and kept talking just to each other. I could see some of my friends behind him making gestures that I should wank him off but it wasn’t like that, he was just a genuinely interesting and nice guy – exactly what I wanted on a quiet night out. We kept chatting for ages until eventually one of the guys came up to us and said

“We’re thinking of heading to somewhere we can dance, do you guys wanna come with?”

We looked at each other and, enthusiastically agreed to go dancing. When we got there, Adam was like a headless chicken – clearly he’d never danced in his life, but he was going for it and it was really cute! Just as the group was starting to part ways, Adam came over to me and said

“Hey, it was really great chatting tonight, would you like to go for a coffee tomorrow?”

Delighted that I’d just been asked out on a date, we agreed a time and hugged our goodbyes. I managed to sneak a cheeky peck on the cheek when we hugged, then winked at him when we separated.

For the past few months I hadn’t really bothered with connection. I was just going out to a bar, finding a hot guy and making a move. We’d fuck most nights for about a week then stop seeing each other. Some of these guys were really good in bed, but it just didn’t satisfy me. I started going for more kinky stuff, like asking guys to do anal just to feel… something different I guess? I was letting myself be used and doing some really messed up shite – letting guys I hardly knew face-fuck me, tie me up, even getting into dirty crap like pissing on me. I just couldn’t get the rush I needed and thought I would have a better chance if I tried more and more extreme stuff. Meeting Adam in the way that I did was so unusual for me and set the precedent for the future.

We met up for coffee and the conversation flowed just as well as the previous night. It was overall just a lovely date and we agreed to do it again a few days later. He walked me home and kissed me lightly on the cheek, winking in return and saying

“’til next time, beautiful…”

Needless to say, I liked him.

I masturbated that night, thinking about him, but not entirely in a sexual way. I was just imagining him holding me and feeling his arms around me, which made me wet and the rest is history. I felt so dirty after I had finished, and not in a good way: I hadn’t even properly kissed him but I was so starved of emotional connection that even the idea of a decent hug made me horny.

Our next date went just as well as the first, and as we were walking home he paused and said,

“Can I ask something potentially difficult?”

“Of course”, I replied, wanting him to feel comfortable but also having a mini heart attack.

“Well”, he said, “I’ve heard that you like sex. Like, a lot. Not that that’s a problem, I think women should be free to shag as much as they like, but…”

I felt gross – presumably one of my friends had mentioned my promiscuous past to him, and I thought he wouldn’t want to take it further because he’d see me as a slut. I started to interject and explain myself but he stopped me and said

“You don’t need to justify yourself, it’s a totally normal thing, right? The problem is more… me.”

My heart started to race as I realised I was really smitten with him, he didn’t have a problem with my past at all, but I was scared he was going to say that he didn’t have a penis or something.

“I tend to take things… slowly.” He said, “I know it’s fairly common that people sleep together on the third or fourth date, but I tend to take a bit longer than that so that we can build up more of an emotional connection.”

I reassured him that that didn’t bother me, and I would love to keep seeing him. He beamed, clearly showing that it had been worrying him that I would not want to see him again. When we got back to mine, he kissed me properly and I savoured every last second of it. I asked if he’d like to come inside, not to have sex but just to chill for a bit (I had every intention of making out with him). He agreed and we went to my bedroom. I put my hand on his cheek and we kissed for a while. I realised how long it had been since I’d properly kissed someone and any idea of making out disappeared – I was content just feeling his lips on mine. We finished a particularly long kiss, when he opened his eyes and said,

“Hey, what’s up? Why are you crying?”

Apparently, my total lack of connection was making me emotional and letting the bottled-up stuff out. I apologised and explained that I just hadn’t met anyone as nice as him for a long time, and that I had been going through some shit before and was quite emotionally pent up. He seemed to understand. Just before he went home he brought up an awkward topic;

“This is gonna sound really weird, but do you want to try an experiment?”

Thinking this meant some kinky sex, and that he was going back on his earlier statement, I hesitantly asked what it was.

“I’ve heard that masturbating can diminish lust – I feel like we have a great connection and I’d love to let the lust build up a lot before we do anything…”

“Are you suggesting that we both stop masturbating for a few weeks?” I bluntly asked.

“Yeah” he replied.

“Oh go on then”, I said, figuring I was going to sleep with him soon anyway so I might as well play along.

So we didn’t wank for the following three weeks. That’s the longest I’ve gone without wanking for a long time, and it was surprisingly hard, but he was 100% right that it built up the tension and the lust a lot more. We went on seven more dates during those three weeks, and every time I was convinced that he would snap and we’d fuck, but to his credit he held his nerve and we kept it going.

===========SEXY TIMES===========

One day I get a text from him asking me out for a drink at a cocktail bar. We go that night and we’re drinking slowly, mixing it up with mocktails to avoid getting too drunk. We started on opposite sides of a table, but ended up on the same side, our hands all over each other, kissing passionately. We had felt each other up before, but never on this level. We were in a quiet part of the bar where nobody would see us and our hands were not being shy. He had a hand on my ass and another on my boob, while my hands were on his butt and neck. My nipples were really hard and he could feel them, pinching them lightly through my top. I could feel stirrings between my legs as my pussy awakened, ready for its first action in weeks. By the time we were ready to leave, my pussy was soaked and ready, and his dick was leaving a strong impression in his trousers. I agreed to settle for the drinks (we equal out here) and I went to the bar to pay. When I came back I saw Adam looking at the seat, and I noticed that I had left a wet stain where I had been sitting. Adam’s eyes turned to me and, in that moment, we knew that tonight was the night. We started back towards mine, but he suddenly said,

“Our houses are so far away, let’s just go to a hotel and spend the night there”

Eager to have sex asap, I agreed. I wouldn’t normally waste money on a hotel, but it was one night and my pussy probably would have left a trail all the way home if I had walked back. We found a place and went to the front desk.

“Hi”, said Adam.

“Say no more” said the man behind the front desk.

He took Adam’s details and handed him a key, giving directions. I wasn’t listening. I was lost in Adam’s face. I felt a tingle down below and realised, unwittingly, that my hand had unconsciously moved to my pussy.

“Enjoy yourselves!” joked the receptionist with a wink.

We were making out furiously in the lift, stroking all over each other’s bodies. We bundled into the room and I immediately found the buttons on his trousers. I pulled down his trousers and boxers and was met with a distinctly average penis, about 5 inches and normal girth. But to me in that moment, because it was on him and because it was about to be mine, I was more excited than I had been in a long time. It was slick with precum and in that moment I needed it inside me. I started to go down on him but he gasped

“Don’t go down on me – I’ve got 3 weeks of cum in these balls and I don’t know how long I can hold it back!”

Turned on by the suggestion of his cum, I leaned in to kiss him. He pulled my top off and undid my bra, revealing my tits. Watching him taking in my tits was amazing. His pupils dilated and his hands didn’t know where to go. I grabbed his hands and placed one on my boob and the other on my ass. He pulled my trousers down with the hand on my ass as I undid his shirt. Now both naked, we couldn’t let go of each other. I had juice all down my legs and started to touch my pussy. He pulled me over to the bed and lowered me onto it, sucking my nipple as he did. He worked his way south until his head was between my legs, then started to work his magic. As his tongue worked at my clit and his fingers slid into me, I had the fastest orgasm of my life. I felt the warmth like a pinprick in my clit, which spread through my thighs, up my spine, around my butt and shooting up into my brain as I writhed in the agony of my own ecstasy. Then he climbed on top of me and we made out, tasting my cum on his lips and in his mouth. I reached down and grabbed his dick, guiding it towards my opening. He plunged in, filling me completely. I’ve had bigger dicks drilled into me, but none have given me the feeling of being full like Adam did. My pussy made that squelching sound that it does when it’s really wet and really happy, and Adam started to fuck me. Every thrust sent lightening through my body, and tasting his sweet lips drove me ever closer. He thrusted harder and harder moaning loudly, and I felt him starting to tense up.

“I’m about to cum” he gasped in between kisses

“…” I tried to speak but it felt so good that I couldn’t find words.

As he drew close I felt the familiar tingling in my labia, which I hadn’t felt in years, driving me further and further until finally I screamed

“I love you!”

The tingling tickled up my labia, through my hips and all along the length of my pussy, leaving sparks along my sides as it burned up to my boobs, and shot along the lengths of my arms. I felt my cum shooting out as I squirted hard onto his torso. It boiled throughout my body, curling all the way to the tips of my toes and rushing around in my head as I saw stars clouding my vision with the powerful orgasm that wracked my entire body. He pumped his cum deep into me, overflowing my pussy and spilling out onto the bedsheets, his face buried in my neck and his voice crackling as he tried to articulate but his voice got lost in his throat, overwhelmed by his orgasm. He collapsed on top of me and we lay there, sweating and panting. When eventually he pulled himself off me onto his back, we locked eyes and didn’t need to say anything. We snuggled up together and spent the night locked in each other’s arms, utterly satisfied and infinitely comfortable.

That night I reconnected with what sex was really about. I had been going around trying to find more satisfying dicks to pound into myself in ever stranger ways, going about it in a purely physical manner. That night I experienced some of the best sex of my life, in the most vanilla way possible – missionary with some foreplay. Sex isn’t about how big the dick is, or how they use it. Sex is about how much you love the person and how their body works with yours. The blend of the raw physical intimacy with the powerful emotional context makes sex with someone you love a million times better than any one-off fuck. I always bear that in mind when having sex with my current boyfriend; we value the emotional connection so strongly that the sex is always loving, yet fiery and passionate at the same time.

Hope y’all enjoyed the story, and please remember the value of emotional connection in sex! Much love <3 xx

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/hum837/rediscovering_the_passion_of_vanilla_sex_after_a