I fucked my first boyfriend only when he became my ex [FM]

*A warning: the lines between consent and non-consent might get blurry.*
———-

First boyfriend gave me [my first taste of cum](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/td5uj2/my_first_blowjob_or_i_swallowed_sperm_at_grandmas/), but when we dated I was not ready to go all the way. After our break up, we remained friends. At times, he flirted with me, which felt benign because he had moved to a different place and was getting plenty of quality pussy.

So, 7 years after our break up, I did not take him seriously when he said his main regret was not fucking me while we lived in the same city. I laughed it off. Well, it turns out he really did mean it, and this became a sticking point in our conversations for months. To his credit, he waited for me to break off a marriage prospect before he pounced.

“I thought he was the keeper. He would have made you a very happy wife.”

“There are some things I need to do before I commit at that level.”

“I sure hope fucking me is one of them.”

My first boyfriend had had privileged access to the dirty workings of my mind. He had seen just how obsessed I was with swallowing his cum. He had chosen the fucked up porn I used in my daily moments of self-pleasure. In his mind, I may have been the worst partner, but also the most desirable slut missing in his conquest record.

He lived several hours away, and we were busy at work. When he booked a beach-side hotel for the weekend and said he would be waiting for me there, I didn’t hesitate to buy a ticket. My closest friends think I had a work trip of sorts. Only he knows that I went to fuck my ex boyfriend.

I am not going to lie: there was no spark when we first saw each other. In reality, the whole thing was awkward. The more we chatted, the more I wondered why we had been together in the first place. We had both become the symbols of the politics each of us had grown to hate. The chat was tense, but in a horrible way. What I felt on our dinner date was repulsion — the kind that, on a first date, would make you craft a graceful and immediate exit. But we were both on a mission, and it was too late to abort it.

When we went back to the room, he knew better than to attack. He knew the whole situation was on a tightrope, and any misstep would have me getting up and leaving. He turned away from me and took off his blazer slowly, setting it on the back of the chair. I hoped he would settle for a generic comment about the ocean view out the window.

“You know why I am here and I know exactly, better than anyone in the world, why you are here.”

“Are we going to get it done and over with?”

“Why would I do that? I did not do it when you were pure. Do you think I can’t hold myself back from fucking your overused holes?”

I was repulsed and I was furious. At this point, I was furious because he was right. In his skilled tightrope walking, he stopped the downward spiral by appealing to a familiar place.

“I have cum so many times thinking of you watching porn I sent you. I never found someone so compatible. Would you mind doing it again with me, for old times’ sake?”

He turned around to look at me, making no effort to hide the huge tent in his suit pants. In my deep anger, I felt tingles at the sight, maybe a remnant of my adolescence of sexual exploration with his huge dick. It was the perfect terrain for him to make a move, but he was not going to make it so easy. He instead opened up his laptop and put on a playlist he had curated for the occasion. We watched porn together.

I looked away from the rough gangbang clip and into the coastal sunset when his hand moved to the zipper on the side of my dress, briefly holding the waistband of my underwear to inspect the lace against my skin. I pretended not to care, but I had worn my best lingerie for that fucker. Hardcore screams sounded in the background as his body moved on top of mine, skilled at undressing me while whispering his desire in my ear.

I lost myself in kisses and strokes, in the absolute veneration of my body. I licked him and felt him and wrapped my hand around his large cock on and under his underwear. When he pulled back, I was down to my lingerie, flustered.

“So get it done and over with? But I know how wet your pussy gets when I drag things out.”

Dear ex boyfriend particularly enjoyed fucking my face for the first time, given that our blowjobs had always been rushed and in forbidden space. He took his time exploring all the ways he could hit my throat with his cock. He held my chin to look into my eyes when he pushed in deeper, grunting after each of my gags. He made me moan against his cock by caressing me and praising my expert cock-sucking skills. He wrapped my hair in his hand while I deepthroated him, bending over him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He stopped when his dick was fully hard and lubricated, and when his precum and my saliva had run down my chin onto my beautiful bra. We were both ready for the main dish. The seven-year wait was over.

“I’m gonna be honest. When I booked this place I didn’t think you were going to show up.”

I was silent. I still hated him, and I hated myself, and I was ready for him to take my pussy and claim his conquest. His hands moved to my hips to slowly remove my lacy underwear, carefully extending the build-up.

“I’m glad I trusted my gut. I knew since the day I met you that you would be begging for my cock. I just needed to be patient.”

“I don’t hear myself begging.”

He looked into my eyes, unrolling a condom against his cock after he dropped my underwear on the bed.

“Knowing you, you are going to be begging me to take the condom off.”

He knelt down on the bed, between my legs. I sat there, looking at him, unwilling to make the angle any easier for him. I did not give in under his weight when he approached me, I did not shift my hips for him, I did not ask him to fuck me.

He probably noticed none of that. He grabbed both my hands to lift them from the bed, leaning down on me to make me horizontal. His hard dick poked between my legs throughout the movement, and he left it at my entrance when his hands moved to position my hips. He had run out of things to spit out at me, so he just started fucking me. He wasn’t even able to hold eye contact.

In this first fuck, he made no effort to discover my G-spot, nor to cater to my pleasure. He held my hands down as he fucked me, enjoying what he probably felt was a reward for his patience and persistence. He came after a couple of minutes, and he emptied his condom on my belly. He recovered as fast as he came.

In my mind, I had the sinking realization that I was nothing but a cum deposit to him, a high school trophy. His cum was dripping onto my mound. I had traveled to a different town to see him, and he was not going to make me cum. He flipped me over and dragged me onto all fours, slapping my ass and fucking me immediately when he was hard again. There was so much wetness inside me that I knew he was not wearing a condom.

“Are you really fucking me raw?”

He grabbed both of my hands, my face falling on the mattress. He pumped into me, grunting, enjoying himself at my expense.

“What does it matter? You’re such a whore that you already voluteered you’re on birth control.”

He had texted me a picture of his STD screening, and I was indeed on birth control. I had not explicitly asked him to wear condoms. He was walking on the fine line where consent gets blurry. Against my dignity, this is what made my body start reacting. He felt it immediately around him.

“You haven’t really changed, have you? You still enjoy yourself the most when you are being a slut.”

With my hands restrained and my face on the bed, I started crying. Not in the loud whimpers that would only make him proud, but I knew he had been right all along. I remained in position, my legs spread and my hips perfectly aligned to his. I took the poundings and my own orgasm started to build. I moved my hand to my clit as he slut-shamed me, and I came around his cock. He came again, deep inside me, wearing no condom.

Once he had emptied himself in me, he pulled back and stood up from the bed. I remained in the same place, my hand between my legs. I could feel his sperm oozing out of me, so I pushed it back in with my fingertips.

We had more sex later that night, and we didn’t say much in between sessions. Apart from our business in sharing that bed, we no longer had anything in common. He only told me about his plans to do all the things he had taught me about on our porn lessons years before.

However, he got to see none of it because even sluts have limits, and I reached mine when he was deep in sleep. I figured out the logistics and left in the middle of the night. There were no flights for the next few hours, so I changed hotels and ended the misguided adventure there.

On my new bed, I looked up the clip that was on when he started undressing me. He was an asshole, but he had great taste in porn. I came hard to it; so hard, that his cum started oozing out of me again. I could smell him: it was the same scent I tasted on [my first blowjob](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/td5uj2/my_first_blowjob_or_i_swallowed_sperm_at_grandmas/). He got his prize and I got mine.

I have cum many, many times to that same clip since.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/tmxtuz/i_fucked_my_first_boyfriend_only_when_he_became