(This is my first time writing here. So contructive criticism is welcome!)
I am crushed. He dumped me. Oh “You’ve put on some weight and you’re too boring in the bedroom to make up for it” wasn’t supposed to hurt the way it did? I would have been fine if he told me I wasn’t meeting his needs. I would have understood if he felt like we were drifting apart from the people we were 5 years ago. Yes, I was skinnier and a bit more eager to please…we were in a new relationship. I gave everything to him. I moved across states, I dropped friends, changed jobs. Why did he just up and leave? We could have went to counseling, therapy, the gym..I’m willing to work on us. But he’s gone. After wasting 5 years with this man, what am I to do now? I’m fat, have no close friends, in a city I never explored on my own and I’m vanilla in bed. Let’s put that on bumble and see the quality of men I get.
I’ve been laying in bed crying all week. I swear I’ve been stalking his social media every 10 minutes. The only interaction I’ve had with anyone is with the delivery guy, who must be the only one working on this side of town because he’s been here 4 times this week. Oh here I am, on his twitter again. Just post something!! Is he going to tell his friends how heartbroken he is? Nothing. What about replies? Nothing. Likes? Wait. What is that? Oh my God. Of course it’s porn. A girl getting pounded by a group of men. Oh of course she’s doing things I would say no to. I stare at this gif he liked. Is he masturbating to this? Is he thinking about me doing that? Is he thinking of me? My mind drifts. *Are you stroking your cock to porn? Sitting there in at your computer. Your hard cock throbbing in your hand. Furiously pumping your fist on your dick? Rubbing your balls and moaning my name? Thinking about me taking these men? Feeling their hot cum loads on my face? Inside my ass? Are you leaking thinking of me taking them bare inside me? Are you cumming thinking of me? Fuck.*
I take the first shower in over a week. The hot water actually feels good rolling down my body. Showering off using the handheld attachment. Oh. I’ve had the handle between my legs for a minute. Maybe I should just get it over with, that might make me feel better. I haven’t done this in months. Our sex life was more than enough for me. It was great. *You took care of my needs. I should have returned the favors. My mind races on all the things you would do to me. You would go down on me for an hour. Licking and sucking every part of me. I think of how you would penetrate me. I loved feeling you throb and pump your dick inside me. Letting out a slight moan a tear runs down my cheek. I can still feel the weight of your body on top of me. My smooth legs wrapped around your back. Moaning into your ear. The way you would breathlessly tell me you’re about to cum. Fuck.*
I can’t believe I’m masturbated over my ex. It hits me after what I had done. Did I feel better? No. The depression is still there. I step out and dry off. I don’t even bother putting on clothes, I go right back to bed. The bed I shared with him. I snuggle up in the blankets and cry. My tears flooding his pillow. I wipe my face against it. Sniffing it. Inhaling the fleeting smell he left behind. Memories flood back in waves, my inner voice cutting me down for having seconds at the resturant. One more glass of wine. Being too tired to suck his dick. Too self concious to ride him. I should have done more, I keep telling myself. Falling asleep cluthing his pillow, tears streaming down my cheeks.
I wake up late, it’s almost noon, and I’m pretty sure I’m getting fired now. I don’t care. All I want is to talk to him, see if he has reconsidered. To tell him I’ll be better in bed. I’ll do the things he asks, no matter how uncomfortable I am. To tell him I was a shitty lover, selfish. I let him please me, but I gave little to no effort in his pleasure. I want to tell him I’m going on a diet, I’ll lose this 10 lbs that I managed to find without looking. I’ll go to the doctor, get referrals to enhance my breasts. What will it take to get him back? I’ll bleach my hair. Anything baby, just please come back. I have to change his pillowcase. It’s going to ruin and I need to save it. As I get up I see a pair of his old boxers beside his nightstand. All balled up and clearly worn. I hold them up to my face, about 8 inches away, I can smell it. He jacked off in these. I pull them apart and they crack away from the dried semen he deposited. I wonder when he did this? Was it when I was too full to let him do those things? I was too sore from the walk from the store? I left him in wanting.
*The smell of your sex is overpowering. I think of our first time together. How delicate you were with me. How you tended to every inch of my body. The way your fingers rubbed my legs. How you gripped my ass when your mouth nibbled my ear. I slowly slip on your dirty boxers and fall into bed. I reach my hand in the hole in the front. Slowly rubbing my sad wet clit. Thinking about the time you asked me to swallow and I fake dry-heaved. I was such a bitch. You ate me out for 45 minutes that night. I came 3 times in your mouth and didn’t think anything of it. I took advantage of you and your kindness. Your eagerness to please. I want to taste you now. I want your warm thick spunk sliding down my throat. I’m so wet. I’m leaking into your boxers. The smell is intensifying as my wet pussy mixes with your dried scent. I slip off the boxers and look for your cum. There it is, right in the bottom, where your balls would be. Oh your balls. Your poor unsatisfied balls. Because of me. Does it taste good now? Do I deserve this? I set your boxers across my face and rub my swollen pussy. Breathing in our scent, becoming intoxicated with what I could have done. My tongue lightly pokes out of my lips. Inching forward towards your stain. Licking lightly, testing the waters. Your musk fills my nostrils as my fingers slip inside me. The taste of you, of us together. I can’t handle it. My body trembles, my belly jiggles, my toes curl, the rush of pleasure floods my senses…I cry out your name. Fuck.*
Laying in bed trying to catch my breath, I toss the old boxers to the floor and reach for my phone. It’s late. I’ve spent all day in bed masturbating to my ex again. I doze off scrolling through his social media again. It’s almost like he’s here. A few hours pass and I awake early. My hand still clutching my phone I check at what I had been looking at. It’s him. The picture I took of him in our kitchen at Christmas. He’s so handsome, his beard, his eyes, his smile. My day starts looking at him. And the cycle continues.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/v2oeiz/obsessively_missing_him_after_being_dumped_f_str8
Damn… well I finished, so I thought it was pretty good.