I was on a thread about whether you masturbate to your exes / flings and my comment ended up being way longer than I expected so I wanted to memorialise this as a post. I’m sorry that unfortunately it’s pretty lame and not a fun/wild sex story (I really wish it were) but I still wanted to share.
A few years back I was just starting to be more acquainted with my sexuality when I did study abroad in college. I made out with a guy in a club & he was the first stranger I ever kissed. He was really gentle and soft with me. I had a couple of bad, aggressive experiences after that which I don’t want to relive but my mind goes back to that first guy ever so often.
He was really tall and cute and my friend tapped on his shoulder to introduce us, and I remember the nervousness I felt when he leaned in and we both shyly said our names into each others’ ears in the floor of the crowded night club. My heart was beating so fast I wondered if he could hear it. He wanted to get me a drink but I was nursing a bad hangover so I told him to go ahead and I’d stay where I was. A few songs passed after that and he didn’t come back so I gathered I’d probably lost him in the crowd or he probably moved on to another girl so I felt a little bummed at that.
I whipped my phone out and was gonna text my friend when suddenly I felt a hand around my waist. He found me again. I still remember the feeling of him pulling me back into his chest and whispering in my ear “hey don’t run away”, and he loosely wrapped his arm in front of me to rest on my shoulder. I remember moving his hand away so I could quickly put my phone back in my purse, then firmly grabbing both his arms to wrap around my shoulders and I said “I’m not going anywhere.”
We danced like that throughout the night — me resting my head against his chest, snuggling back into the nook of his neck, him hugging me tighter, his arms moving down to my hips to tap it to the beat of the music. He’d also intertwined his fingers with mine as he moved his hands down my body. He was never rough or aggressive with me, even when I felt the way he was starting to harden against my back. He never ground up against me or forced me to touch him (which sadly most of my latter experiences with other men would entail).
He was so gentle with me that I felt safe, and I knew I was already wet before he kissed me. I’ll never forget the way it happened. I was wondering when he would turn me around to kiss me because I wanted to know so badly how he tasted. Maybe he was nervous and being as careful as I was too but then it finally happened. He released his arms around me and tapped me on my shoulder to gently turn me around so I was facing him. When I looked at him and he dropped his eyes to my lips and slowly leaned in, I didn’t even think twice when I closed my eyes and pulled him closer.
I miss everything about the way he kissed me. Fuck I’d get wet just thinking about it for the next few weeks after that night. His lips were so fucking soft I had to resist the urge to gently nip at his lower lip. It was gentle and slow the first time. We’d kiss like this a few more times throughout the night — till I started to get more and more emboldened. I remembered running my hands through his jacket to touch him everywhere and still felt like it wasn’t enough. I remember the warmth of his hands around my face and my neck as he cradled my face while I clung onto him and scratched his back and trying to imagine all the layers of clothes were just not there. I remember the way I wanted more and pressed against him so hard that I felt the warmth of his entire body against me. I twisted my head to kiss him harder and slot my tongue into his mouth and he responded by licking me open again and again and again. I was breathing so hard by the time we moved away and I knew my panties were already wet. I felt myself clench around nothing in exasperation when he asked me if I’d like to go home with him. Because God I wanted him. I wanted this. So fucking much. I wanted to say yes. I still want to say yes now.
But as a 21 year old virgin in a foreign country with nobody I knew, I still had my fears and reservations about going home with a stranger even though my body screamed at me to give in. I was also only there for travel before the semester officially started in another state so unfortunately the night ended this way.
I still think about this night a lot and I remembered touching myself immediately the moment I walked into the shower that night imagining it was his fingers and I came so hard. It’s been a few years now and I’m a lot more comfortable with myself. And I can’t help but wish I could go back there now and make the decision to go home with him.
Sometimes I fantasise about how it could’ve been. I imagine his hands all over me and peeling off every layer of clothing on my body. I imagine myself doing the same to him. I imagine his beautiful warm hands all over me, around my neck, parting my legs and slipping his fingers inside of me. I imagine the way I briefly felt his length and hardness through his pants, I imagine feeling him finally not just through his pants, I imagine pulling him out and finally touching him, I imagine licking and tasting him, I imagine having him inside my mouth and finally inside of me. I try to remember the way his warm kisses felt against my lips and imagine those same soft lips and wet tongue running down my entire body, around my tits and my neck and around my pussy and that is usually enough to push me across the edge and make me come hard again.
Fuck I’m wet and I miss him :-(
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/q8kyku/f_in_honor_of_the_one_that_got_away_4_years_ago_i