Warning: Long text
If you are curious, part 1 is in my profile.
Tender.
In body and mind.
I feel a little strange and vulnerable about the experience.
And things I didn’t want to come or expect to come are coming up. A bubbling over.
I’m giddy. I’m annoyed. I’m humbled. I’m befuddled.
And I know with 100% certainty that I’m going to get hurt.
Burned.
Consumed.
But God, I want to be.
Everything that weekend was so much better than last. If the last weekend we met was Technicolor, this one was HD 4K. So vivid. Indulgent.
There was some obstacles to get there but somehow I knew that I had to go and my efforts would be rewarded. My heart beats fast thinking about it.
I wasn’t exactly writhing in anticipation-in fact I felt almost begrudgingly that I had to after delays and misplaced timing. I was much more blasé about the affair this time. My outfit fit well but wasn’t dressy. Flared jeans. Nails done. Fresh fitted white t shirt.
I had missed the correct stop and had to take a 25 minute detour.
I don’t want to give this man a name while I write this because giving him one only means that he has succeeded in completely possessing me. I don’t want to give him any more power. So for this-he will only be referred to by he, his, him. He.
He was so damn reasonable about it. He seemed giddy to see me (or my cynical side thinks he was tired of waiting-probably more likely).
I apologized for being late through text and he said it was perfectly fine since he had made me wait last time but suggested I take a taxi. Instead I took the metro to the station where he was waiting.
I suddenly became nervous and chided myself to calm down. At the previous station I had freshened up and changed my panties to something pink and lacey.
It was again raining. This time lightly.
Every time we meet, it rains.
I slowly approached the metro turnstile and saw his tall 6’5 form slowly moving toward me. He waved and I waved back a smile breaking on both our faces.
He was wearing a light grey hoody, black hat, and well fitted pants with boots. He always dressed well, with fitted clothes.
We gave eachother a friendly side hug. Always have to be careful in public.
In hindsight, all I wanted to do was fling my arms around him and have him pick me up.
Immediately, the conversation flowed nicely.
He asked me about work and specific things I had mentioned in our previous conversations. I asked him in turn about his work. We stepped over the slightly dizzying and wet streets of [insert city] to get to the hotel he had paid for.
The hotel wasn’t sleazy from the outside but its purpose was obvious for the trained eye.
We got to the room and I was pleasantly surprised. Exposed brick. Dark wood finishes. Netflix installed on the tv. Bath robes. Slippers. With a gigantic bath tub.
I had specifically requested this for our next meeting so I was more than thrilled to see the tub that seemed large enough to accommodate myself and his large form.
I saw two bottles of wine on a small table. He had remembered the exact brand I had wanted. He is very detail oriented-something I noticed immediately and liked.
He asked me after I had set my backpack down what the first thing I wanted to do was.
I excitedly said a bath. We started to draw the bath. Then I asked him what he wanted to do while we waited.
“Make out on the bed?” he asked.
I laughed and grabbed his hand, leading him to the bed.
I had feared that the second time we met, things might either be better or worse. But of course, this weekend was even better than the last.
His kisses were again, so soft. So tender but increased with passion gradually. He would kiss my neck, my face, down my chest, my stomach, my sides, everywhere. At one point he kissed along my collarbone and took in a deep breath saying, “You smell so good.”
I don’t remember if I had said the same thing before or after he said that. He smelled both edible and comforting. Our pheromones happily danced together.
He lifted my shirt and remarked on my pink lacey bra that it was cute. I giggled and thanked him.
I didn’t tell him that I had brought it specifically for his appreciation.
I rubbed my hands down his chest and told him I loved his pelt. He clearly remembered when I told him that I loved body hair on men and instructed him not to shave. I loved how masculine he felt in opposition to my smoothness.
He paused to go check the bath and said that it was ready.
I got up and stripped-slightly disappointed he missed seeing my cute pink lacey panties. It’s okay-they weren’t meant to be on long.
There were bubbles in the bath that I played with, making a bubble bra while he checked the temperature. It ended up being too hot so we put the cold water on and waited while the temperature regulated. In that time he left and came back with a bag of candles.
Ugh-he thinks of everything of course.
The room was in a warm glow as the candles set and we slowly lowered in the bath.
More kisses. More massages. More conversation. More cuddling.
We spoke of Oregon, the future, the past, our fears and desires.
I hadn’t even taken a bath with my ex of three years. So now, I was bathing with a relative stranger.
And it felt really fucking good.
But eventually we both got almost overheated and cut our bath time to go dry off and lay naked in bed.
He suckled my breasts for some moments which made me squirm. I’m so happy that he continued to indulge my breast feeding/nipple play fetish. In our text leading up to this day-he would often lament how he wanted to suckle on me after a long day. I gladly let him relax into it.
While suckling, he reached down to pet my pussy which was slick and wet. He always was surprised how wet I would get. Honestly I was too. The last time we met, I was so aroused that I had dripped down my own legs.
This part becomes hazy.
I felt as though I was completely his the whole weekend and was happy to be his.
At one point, I blindfolded him and we played ‘guess the body part’. I put my elbow on his mouth. He grinned widely. “Wait-what is that?”. I giggled and put it back near his mouth. “Your elbow!”. He guessed each part successfully. My elbow. My shoulder. Neck. Nipple (specifically the right nipple), and my pussy-which ended in me sitting on his face while I went down on him. After this, I sat on that big cock of his that I had desperately missed, with my feet on the bed while I held his hands for leverage-bouncing up and down.
And God-he felt amazing inside of me. So full and obviously hard. The noises he made turned me on even more. He whimpered and gasped as I slid up and down. I loved that I could reduce this hulk of a man to a whimpering heap. Eventually he tore off the blindfold and fucked me while I lay on my stomach.
This position seemed to be most sensitive for him as it doesn’t take him a long time. And it didn’t. I thrusted back onto him after some moments and eventually felt the warm spray of his cum on my back.
After, we went out for dinner. It was around 12:00 am. We had beef gimbap and mandu at a 24 hour place with little old Korean ladies who happily fed us. He had such an interesting effect on the women here. They automatically want to dote on him-it’s amusing to witness. During dinner we talked about van dwellers and muscle cars.
His green eyes would wrinkle at the sides when he smiled at my jokes. He has really warm and kind eyes. Ones where you can tell he smiles a lot.
We walked back to the hotel. When we got back we played Mario Kart together. I’m naturally competitive so I aimed to win. (He got second in the first cup, I won the other). He remarked that he didn’t know the last time he played games like this with someone and he really enjoyed it.
The whole weekend he would randomly thank me. Thanking me for playing Mario Kart with him. Thanking me for sucking his cock. Thanking me for enjoying touching him.
I remember thinking of his words after our encounter and felt sad.
All I could think was that I felt like I could touch him forever. Suck his cock forever. Play Mario Kart with him forever. I wondered who had made him think otherwise. That he had to say thank you for something so….basic.
Which was a stupid thing to think. We have only been talking for two months. Only met him once in person.
This was temporary.
I had to keep reminding myself.
But when he would be so painfully agreeable and sweet It was hard not to…think.
We had made a mutual bet about whoever wins the second round would get a massage. I told him I wanted a foot massage. And since I had won-he complied.
His rather large hands held my small feet and gave me such an attentive foot massage. I dreamily lay back as he squeezed the soles of my feet. I thanked him after and I felt the same way I had felt after our first meeting where he had given me a full body massage.
Was he being so affectionate not because he liked me that much but because these tender actions are what he wanted to give to someone else he actually cared for? Was he, in a way, projecting intimacy on me? Or was I so insecure to believe that this handsome, attractive, and attentive man couldn’t be doting on me-even if it felt undeserved.
Due to this I wanted so badly to give him the same care. And so I did as best as I could with my own body. I just wanted to not think about feelings and live in this moment.
Again, another blur of time. We went to sleep around 4:00 am that night (morning?)
One thing I learned was that we definitely enjoyed kissing each other.
Last meeting was practice and this was perfection. Kissing was such an interesting expression of ourselves. We lay in bed rubbing our noses together. At one point we fell asleep with our foreheads touching, breathing each other’s air.
We would cycle between rubbing our lips together, gently biting, and rubbing eachothers tongue. Fondling. I forget to breathe a bit when thinking of this part of the weekend. It was almost…tantric. Spiritual. We would kiss. He would suckle on me. I would struggle to take his cock in my mouth and suckle on him-but I loved the challenge. And then we would fuck. For hours.
And I still wasn’t tired. If anything. I felt energized. It felt electrifying that I knew for 100% that another human being was feeling this physical connection. We didn’t need drugs. We were high off each other.
I told him after that it felt like being a teenager again-in a good way. He laughed and agreed.
At one point he flipped me into missionary. My thighs were to my shoulders and he stared into my eyes. I ended up coming on his cock and he gasped as he felt my contractions. He also mentioned how surprised he was that I was so reactive. I simply shrugged. Internally, I knew it was because he made me feel so comfortable. I wasn’t like this with everyone.
I didn’t let men deep tongue kiss me like that. I didn’t suck on the thumb of random men. I didn’t let men call me ‘kitten’ and call them ‘daddy’ in return. I didn’t willingly swallow the cum of random men (more on that later). In fact, most of those things I would be repulsed doing to any random that wasn’t someone I was seriously dating. How this man brought it out of me-I don’t know. I felt I was possessed and he was the deviant conductor of my unwillingly willing body. It was a dangerous abandon of logic and common sense. It’s hard to describe if you’ve never had the pleasure of being in subspace.
At one point he murmured against my lips, “Kitten, what do you want?” (* I literally just fanned myself as I typed this). My heart skipped because to me that meant that he somehow felt just as possessed as I did. I made him feel just as submissive.
“Fuck me slowly then eat my pussy from behind”. And he did just that. Kissing my back, pumping in and out slowly and making me cum so hard that my pussy sounded like water sloshing in a warm pot.
Instead of eating me from behind, he turned me around and opened my legs to feast on me. He teased me with his mouth at first. Licking the sides of my thighs, rubbing his face slightly in my trimmed bush, the kissing my labial lips. He pumped two fingers in me while licking my clit.
I came again, but this time in his mouth. I breathed heavily as he lay his head against me-listening to my body. I was finally spent.
After we kissed again, he spooned my body.
We slept in the next day (until around 12)
When we woke, we fucked again. Missionary then prone. He asked me, “Kitten-where do you want my cum?”. And I begged in my mouth. He groaned and stood up while I eagerly placed him in my mouth. His whole body shook as I slowly sucked the cum out of him-gently coaxing each drop out with my tongue. He wiped the side of my mouth where some cum had escaped-of course like a true gentleman. I would’ve swallowed that bit too if he had wanted me to.
He stared down at me in wonder.
“My ex never did that for me.”
My eyebrows raised. Again, I had another intrusive thought. “If you were mine, I would do it for you everyday.” I internally rolled my eyes. Stop.Thinking. Like. That.
All that we were doing means nothing to most men. To him-I’m just a hookup and that’s how you’re supposed to think of it too. He doesn’t care about you any deeper than beyond this bedroom and you shouldn’t either. Stop it.
We decided to get lunch. We ended up walking around 40 mintues trying to find the right restaurant. He never got too frustrated despite it being so hot. That was refreshing to me. Men I had been with in the past would get moody and angry any time something wasn’t going their way. We kept our spirits up and found a decent restaurant. Again, our waitress gushed over my handsome date. I didn’t blame her. Wait-date?? Friend…my handsome friend.
He of course, seemed oblivious to the way women reacted to him.
We had a great meal. I actually liked eating with him. We made our way back to the hotel-we stopped to get some snacks. Ice cream (that ended up melting in the hotel freezer). Beer. Soju.
More excess. More random touches. Caresses. Kisses. Jokes. Fucking. Food. Watching horror movies (that weren’t really watched…). Pure indulgence. And intimacy. Blessed intimacy.
I kept asking him to let me know if my touches get annoying and he told me his love language was touch so it wasn’t a problem for him-in fact he preferred it.
At one point he lay down between my legs as we watched a tv show. I rubbed my nails against his scalp and gave him a shoulder massage. He ended up falling asleep in my arms. I kissed the top of his bald head and felt strange after. This morning when I woke up he had kissed my forehead so I figured this was okay to do.
Why do I have such a compulsion to hold him? To kiss his head. Am I stupid? What if he ends up being an asshole (high probability)? Again, the rational brain wasn’t there with me that weekend.
We eventually took another bath together. We brought some beers into the bath with us. The bubbles were even higher this time. I playfully blew a kiss with a glob of bubbles towards him. He smiled and took my hand as we sank in the water. We held eachother and kissed.
I leaned back against the edge of the tub as his fingers found their way to my pussy. His hands were like magic. No man has made me cum from fingering me except for him. He spent a good twenty minutes just watching me in the candlelight, playing with me like an instrument. I felt helpless. My moans echoed in the bathroom. Before meeting again, he told me that he had missed how my moans sounded. So I hoped he could add more sounds to whatever memories he had of me.
The next morning-I woke up early to shower. While I showered he cleaned the room and packed my backpack for me. I inexplicably felt a little sad. I knew that I didn’t want to have an intense PDA session at the train station so instead-after I dressed I climbed on his lap while he lay on the bed waiting for me.
I smiled at him and he smiled back then I leaned down to give him a chaste kiss.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He was looking at me like how my ex would look at me. Or maybe I’m just projecting.
I remember wanting to hold his hand while we walked to the station. When we got there, I gave him another awkward side hug before walking to the turnstile fighting the urge to look back at him and wave. I breathed a sigh of relief as I got to my platform and sat on a bench. My body still throbbed in both slight pain (I felt rather…stretched down there) and relaxation.
He had told me that he was still very much interested in planning a mini trip/vacation to a nearby beach city. For a week. My stomach fluttered at the thought. Great-more wonderful torture.
Annddddd officially, I am a fool. The day after I tried to deny it and the second day after I somewhat begrudgingly acknowledged it.
I now accept it.
I have a crush on you.
But don’t worry-you’ll never know it.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/hzxqdy/the_rapture_of_sucking_the_biggest_cock_ive_ever
You both are in love with each other… Fools