Last weekend I fucked a woman for the first time in ten years.
I don’t mean to imply that I haven’t had sex with ANY women for the past decade. It’s just been ten years since I had sex with this particular woman.
The first time, we were at a destination wedding. It was early 2012 and we were in the Caribbean. I was there with one of the bridesmaids. She was there with one of the groomsmen, who later became her husband.
I was attracted to Faye from the moment I saw her. She was a young Vietnamese woman with shoulder length dark hair and a slender body. I didn’t expect anything to happen between us since we both had dates, but we were at an all inclusive resort, we were drinking a lot, and we ended up alone together after she’d just had an argument with her boyfriend.
My own relationship was already on the rocks and I knew it wasn’t going to last much longer. We talked. We made out on the beach. Then we went back to her suite while everyone else was in a nightclub.
Even the next day, the details were lost in a drunken haze. I remember that she had on a green, floral sundress with tiny straps. I remember how smooth the zipper slid down when I pulled it. And that she wasn’t wearing a bra. And that I fucked her from behind without a rubber because she said she was on the pill. I can remember my cum running down her thighs after.
When I saw her the next day, she acted like nothing had happened. Of course, she was with her boyfriend and I assumed that they’d resolved whatever disagreement they were having. We were only alone together one other day for the rest of the trip. She was curt and icy, but she thanked me for a good time
We went home to different cities. I didn’t really know her, but we had mutual friends, so I’d hear about her from time to time. My relationship ended, but over the next ten year, she got married to her boyfriend, had a couple of kids, and got divorced.
We both relocated a few times. Last year, I learned we were living in the same city. Not knowing our history, a mutual friend suggested that I contact her. As far as I know, nobody knows our history, actually.
Before I could reach out, Faye sent me a message on Facebook. The same mutual friend had told her she should contact me. She didn’t bring up the night we’d spent together at the beach resort, so I didn’t mention it either. But we messaged each other a lot when everything was locked down. The messages weren’t flirtatious, but we were both enjoying the conversation.
Then she mentioned she was ready to date again. It had been a long couple of years with a divorce and the lockdowns. She asked what apps I use to meet people “our age.” I suggested she skip the apps and go on a date with me instead.
She suggested a few restaurants that she likes. I offered to cook for her instead. She said she’d send the kids to stay with her mother for the night.
I didn’t know for certain that we’d fuck when she came over. But Faye had agreed to come to my house and told me she wouldn’t need to rush home. I had every intention of inviting her to stay the night.
There was an awkward moment when I opened the door and we stood in my foyer. She was holding a bottle of wine and wearing a black shift dress, even though it was freezing cold outside. I asked to take her coat and made an awkward joke about the last time we’d been alone in a room together.
I’d spent ten years romanticizing that one night. I’ve had many flings, but I’m not a one-night-stand person. Something always felt unfinished. But maybe it was just the booze, the exotic location, and tasting forbidden fruit. Maybe the appeal was just being with someone I couldn’t have at the time.
As it turned out, Faye’s memories of that night were just as fond as mine.
“I haven’t had sex in over two years,” she confessed. “I don’t mind if we skip dinner.”
“That is, if you want to…” she added.
The woman I remembered wasn’t much more than a girl. She was a little skinny and awkward, but sexy in the way a young woman can be.
Ten years later, her body was curvier. Her face was fuller. It suited her. I kissed her. Things escalated quickly. We moved to the bedroom.
There was a sense of deja vu with the way things unfolded. We kissed frantically. She unbuttoned my shirt then turned her back to me.
“Unzip me,” she said.
Again, I pulled the zipper down on her dress.
“You’re wearing a bra this time,” I said.
“I’ve got children now,” she answered. “I at least have to pretend to be respectable. Even though I miss being a slut.”
“Then be one tonight,” I said.
Her dress slid to the floor. She had on a lacy burgundy thong that matched her bra. I pushed her toward the bed.
“From behind?” she asked. “Just like before?”
“I thought about it for a long time after,” I confessed.
“So did I,” she said. “But I was practically engaged. I told myself it didn’t matter that I fucked a stranger.”
She was on her hands and knees. I pushed her soaked thong to the side and grabbed her hips.
“So I was just some stranger to you?” I asked.
“Of course,” she said. “We’d just met. It was sexy and fun, but it wasn’t about you. It was about the thrill. And not being happy with him.”
I ran my fingers up and down her slit. She moaned with delight.
“And now?” I asked. “Just a stranger again? Just chasing a thrill?”
“I just need to be fucked,” she said.
“So you’re just using me?” I asked.
“You can use me, too,” she said. “Use me however you want.”
I slid into her without a condom again. On some level, I was annoyed. She’d been a fantasy I’d thought about for years. I was nothing for than a convenient fuck when she wanted it. And it had been the same ten years earlier.
“Be gentle,” she said. “It’s been such a long time.”
But I didn’t care what she wanted. I pushed deep inside her tight little cunt. I wasn’t gentle. I didn’t go slow. I fucked her like a slut. And she loved every minute of it.
She moaned my name over and over while I pounded her little slit. When she came, I didn’t even consider pulling out. I just fucked her harder and faster until I filled her pussy.
After, we laid in bed and she stroked my cock gently after licking it clean.
“You know, this time, it’s not just about sex,” she said. “Not after months of messaging.”
I was skeptical, but didn’t say so.
We fucked a few more times and then she slept over.
When she left, she made it clear she didn’t want it to be just one night. And I felt pretty convinced that she meant it.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/rfjsc8/i_fucked_her_againten_years_after_the_first_time
So, was it a one night stand again?