We were making out on your couch. You were wearing sweatpants and I had on…fuck, I’m not even sure about that part. I might have been wearing a short skirt or I might have already been naked. After all, being in your arms did tend to have that effect on me.
Your arms were around me, and your kisses (so addictive they taste like the original sin) kept luring me deeper and deeper. I was intoxicated by your every look and touch. Words were barely needed as the flames of desire consumed us both and we moved as one, intuitively knowing just what the other needed.
In that moment nothing else existed save you and me. Nothing else mattered. Time was nonexistent as even nature itself froze to watch the explosion of passion amd flames that engulfed us. I was grinding against you, getting more and more wet, literally dripping down on you. And without even realizing it at first, somehow, I started riding you, and you started fucking me, through your sweatpants.
I’m still not sure how it happened, apart from the insane way you’d make me wet to the point of literally gushing on you. And I’ll never forget your delighted, devilish smirk when you glanced down and realized what was happening and suggested maybe it was time to shed all clothes so you could fuck me properly. I’ll never forget that moment, or that feeling of pure ecstasy and intoxicating desire and passion. The way you thrust up to meet me. The way my pussy grabbed for you so tightly, while also sliding down so easily, sweat pants be damned.
I’ve never been at that point with anyone else and will either chase that high, or run from the pain that it’s absence has caused, for the rest of my life. That bliss was mine to taste so briefly, but that taste has wrecked my fantasies and dreams and awakened in me a fire so hot that no amount of fucking new strangers can quench it. I still long to feel you again…cock hard and throbbing, rising to meet me as my pussy drips and convulses, trying to pull you deep inside me.
Life is too short to settle for anything less than that fucking-through-sweats kind of passion. Consume me entirely and wreck me, or leave me alone and untouched by the boredom of forced kisses and weak passion. Awaken the dragon completely, or not at all. Let the fire burn, let the heat consume, let the light of the flames dance and play around us. All that matters is the moment.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/khf5os/a_memory_that_i_constantly_think_of_and_get_off
So, how long have you been with the wrong man?