I feel I should preface all of this by saying the following:
– I haven’t written this much since my late teens/early 20’s. So please take that into account if you feel this is horrible.
– While I’ve been on Reddit for some time now, this is the first story I’ve ever posted involving any of my past encounters through this platform.
– This is a long retelling (8 chapters). I’ll be posting the first two this evening, but only one chapter/ day afterwards.
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Chapter 1: The Origin of Us
It’s been sixteen painstakingly long months since we broken up. We met three months into the start pandemic, and spent the following six months together. Or I should say, as together as two people who don’t live in the same city, and occasionally belonged to others in between could be.
I can only describe our time together as the prototypical sexual whirlwind. I typically would make the trip to her place on a bi-weekly basis. The highlight being a four day, three night Airbnb excursion for her birthday (if I decide to write and post here again, the retelling of this event will be the next on the hit list).
Each time we were together we’d spend hours pleasuring each other. Each time we would build on the previous experience. Everything always seemed to accelerate further than the time before. And each time she would cede more control to me. As If she knew all along that’s what I wanted and needed. It felt like she’d been living in the dark corners of my suppressed deviant desires before we were to ever meant to meet.
We clicked right away when we first met online. Similar interest were shared. Long, late night chats were the norm. Each interaction revealed that she was the perfect ratio of intelligent, empathetic, adorably awkward, and the most important component for my perverted needs – intensely slutty and submissive.
To those that know me by day, I’m a mild mannered gentlemen. I hold doors open for senior citizens. I try to bring the feminist perspectives to male dominated conversations, when a woman isn’t present to put us all in our place about topics we as men could have no level of actual understanding about (fun fact – I’m turned on by nearly any woman that does this when she is present to do so).
I’m the good son. I’m the responsible one. I’m the shoulder that’s always there to cry on. I use my turn signal when there are no drivers behind me. There’s nothing about me on the surface that would seem remotely risky, adventurous, or unsafe.
By night, I enjoy making women swoon by showing off my what I’ve been told by enough of them to accept the reality as truth (w/o ever feeling the need to be a cocky asshole about it), thick, long, uncut black cock online (almost exclusively via Reddit). I enjoy pushing my sexual limits. I enjoy the increasingly delicate act of blurring the lines of consent.
While being a sweet boy by day, and fucking you to tears under the stars is my hidden super power, it’s been an internal conflict I’ve had to wrestle with for years. D.C. Girl understood this kink immediately. That fact alone has provided her rent free space in my thoughts since the day we first met.
For reasons I’ll keep private, our time together ended during December of 2020. I will say that it was a rough ending for us both, and that it took thirteen long months for me to work up the nerve to reach out to her again, in spite of the fact that a day didn’t pass where she wasn’t on my mind.
We briefly reconnected in December of 2021, than remained unconnected for another three months, and connected again a week before our inevitable reunion. She agreed to allow me to spend the weekend at her place, just like old times.
There are more work meetings on my calendar this Friday, the day of my departure, than any point in the last 4 months. Of course that is the case today, the day that I finally get to reunite with the woman who is the costar of more of my sexual fantasies than I’d like to admit since we parted.
I’m quick to the point in every meeting that day with the hope of ending them as quickly as possible so I can prep for the trip. In between meetings I’m doing laundry, packing, and grooming myself in preparation of our weekend long fuckfest.
The work day ends at 5:17 p.m. I throw my bags in the car, and take a quick trip to grab gas, and supplies, and I plug in her address into the navigation system, and I’m off.
The trip from my place to hers is precisely 59.4 miles. Even though I want to be there as soon as possible, I’m not reckless in my travels. Ever the good boy, I’m mostly doing the speed limit as I travel down 95 south. The travel time is good. It allows me to control my nerves. It gives me time to find my game face.
It’s also allows time for nostalgia of our past sexual experiences. The time she sucked my cock underwater in a hot tub. The time I nearly ripped her hoddie while using it as a prop to hold up her tiny body while pounding her as hard as I’ve ever pounded any woman while fucking her from behind. The times I had to cover her mouth as she came hard while riding my thick black cock in her living room, preventing her neighbors from being annoyed/secretly turned on by our exploits.
I’m so lost in these thoughts that I don’t realize that in spite of both traffic and my cautious tendencies, I’ve arrived to her place sooner than I expected.
I park the car, and pull down the visor to check myself in the mirror. There’s no goodness in the eyes that are staring back at me. There’s no apprehension. No fear of being misunderstood or making missteps. I’m in character now. The good boy has officially been put in his cage, exactly where he belongs this weekend. It’s time to begin
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ugcmgk/the_dc_girl_chronicles_reunion_chapter_1_mf