Autumn was a hot mess. We met on tinder. She’d dropped into town from Nashville for the weekend on business—maybe a convention. After basic preliminaries we agreed to meet that afternoon, a Saturday.
Her figure matched the photos. About 5’3, long dark hair, and large dark eyes, 25. A tawny complexion that rounded out an ethnically ambiguous look. Maybe Latina, or possibly darker upland Southeast Asian. I never found out. She was thicker than my typical preference, but, you know, variety is the spice of life. Sometimes it’s good to grab a fatter ass.
She was open and easy, not what I’d expected from an accountant. The conversation flowed without the need for any alcohol. I felt like I was getting a window into all kinds of things beyond my life: southern lifeways (she’d grown up in Tennessee) sorority culture, and so on.
While we finished the first drink, I heard about her frustrated Friday. She’d tried to bait a work colleague also in town into a hookup. That he had a serious girlfriend only made it better for her. She’d gotten him drunk and feeling her up, but when they went to her hotel room morals struck and he wouldn’t go further than groping. He’d been texting her all day and she was thinking about how else to enjoy her weekend.
After the second round of drinks we walked back to my apartment, with glances at local sights enroute so she could play tourist. We started hooking up immediately, but in a slow and lazy way, without much drive.
She had a strange redline: she didn’t want to take her tube dress off. It was tight and black, and really clung to her well. But it also seemed cheap (in price) and a bit tawdry. I rolled it down from the top, to see and play with her floppy tits as they popped out. When my hand went up her thighs I discovered she also wasn’t wearing any underwear either.
I took her to the bedroom. She declined again when I tried to shuck her dress off so, we started fucking while she still wore it. She had waxed her snatch, and as I entered her raw the feeling of smooth skin to skin outside was almost better than the feeling of my cock in her. She only wanted to do missionary, out of laziness it seemed to me.
After ten to twenty minutes of very moderate paced slow fucking—I don’t even think I was sweating—I came in her.
I dressed, and she rolled her dress back up and down. The whole time, and for the next fifteen minutes until she left, she complained about her dress getting stretched. She cared less about the wet cum soaking through the back. She departed in her $12 stretched cum stained dress into the bright afternoon.
We texted for the rest of the weekend. She had sex with two other guys, one from a local bar, and the other her coworker from Nashville. I didn’t know if they also rawdogged or nutted in her, but it magnified a worry I’d started to feel almost the moment I emptied my own balls into her. Autumn was more promiscuous and riskier than the girls I usually slept with. It turned out fine for me, and I had to reflect that I’d been just a small part of some else’s gone wild weekend.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/m54srb/stretching_out_a_seasonal_mamis_f_tube_dress