I had a milestone birthday after my divorce that I celebrated by taking myself abroad to a European city. I spent the week exploring castles and museums and cathedrals and using Tinder as my personal Rick Steves- apparently I was not the only woman with that idea because one of my matches’ bio simply said “I’m not TripAdvisor.” (He wound up giving me some of the best travel advice and the whole backstory on a local monastery but that’s another story.)
Anyway on my actual birthday I’d had one younger man take me on a bike tour along the coast and another man take me for an afternoon drink at a rooftop restaurant overlooking a gorgeous older neighborhood and I’d taken myself to an amazing dinner. It was a perfectly lovely day, but when I got back to my hotel my inner Veruca Salt was not satisfied so I returned to swiping and immediately matched with one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen. He said he was just home from a business trip- I got enough info to look up his LinkedIn and match the face to his wetsuit-clad tinder photo- and so when invited me over to his apartment i demurred for a minute before saying well, as long as it’s just to watch TV…
He called me an Uber and five minutes later I was headed up five flights of stairs to his impressively large for the neighborhood apartment. True to his word we watched some television and chatted a bit- he’d read an article about a merger in the Financial Times on his flight and attempted to mansplain (some things are culturally universal) the implications for the company’s stock. I corrected him about how the US stock market works and on the name of the company CEO and while he googled to check (I was right) I took off my jean jacket making clear that I was not wearing a bra under the fringey slip dress I had on.
This was his cue to offer to show me the view from his balcony and my cue to mention it was my birthday- a cue he picked up on correctly by pulling me closer and running his thumbs along my collarbones, tilting my chin up to meet his face for a kiss. After some making out he guided me back over to the couch, where I kneeled on the couch to lean over and pull out his cock to suck while he lifted up my dress and began fingering me. I do a lot of yoga but the logistics of reaching his cock while his hands were coming at me from behind were not an asana I’d practiced much but I didn’t fret about it too long as he pulled me vertical to pull off my dress and continue fingering me as he knelt on the ground and brought his face to my clit. He’d pause to grope my tits and pinch my nipples but mainly proceeded with his tongue and fingers until I came twice.
At that point he stood up again and picked me up over his shoulder, carrying me into his bedroom and throwing me a little roughly onto his king sized bed. He went to his dresser to get a condom (my favorite thing about men in this city based on my final sample size of two was that they did not even need to be asked to wrap it up) and said, “I’m going to make you squirt all over my bed.”
I laughed at this point and said “good luck with that” and at first thought the sarcasm didn’t translate but he was genuinely confused at my belief that squirting was mainly a myth and not something I was capable of.
“You already did, on my couch.”
“I did no such thing!” He didn’t need to prove me wrong on this one at that moment, though, and instead leapt on top of me, pinning my arms over my head as he entered me hard and fast. He pounded away like that until I came before grabbing me and flipping me over to do it again from behind. Things typically get a little blurry for me around my fifth orgasm but it was firm, forceful, and attentive- my very favorite kind of fucking.
At one point I came and he stopped and pulled me over by my hair and said “there! See?” Sure enough there was a small wet spot. He hadn’t come yet, so it wasn’t him, and it smelled like nothing.
On my way out he showed me the matching spot on the couch- same thing. After that I started paying a little more attention and notice when I squirt (and have had a few partners dedicated to making it happen in a way no one could fail to notice) but those first few times it was such a small spurt I completely missed it.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/jln5pr/the_first_time_i_squirted_i_didnt_even_notice_fm