This continues my “portrait” of Graham, following up on my journey of exploring my sexual past I started here: https://old.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/u33z2w/f_i_f45_had_a_secret_affair_for_8_months_it/.
Today’s instalment will be a bit different. I’ve paid attention to reader comments before and tried different things, like writing more graphically and so on. One reader I’ve been chatting with, K., has given me some advice that I want to try. I’m not sure I’ll be able to pull it off, but I’m going to try. Basically, she told me my writing felt more therapeutic than erotic. To me, that’s one and the same thing, but I wanted to try writing in a way she would find erotic too. So here goes. I hope it’s not embarrassing. At least trying to be more erotic and graphic suits the subject matter, because Graham was the lover I was most exploratory, least inhibited with.
Anyway, so, after the New Year’s party where I met and hooked up with Graham, I went home and dealt with the fallout with my friend, his ex. It was bad. In fact it felt terrible, like a great tragedy at the time. Looking back I realize it was not such a big deal. It’s sad to lose a friend, but we’d actually known each other only for a few months, and our friendship was mainly based on getting high and talking shit about other people. I’m not sure how close we were, really. Anyway, it was a big deal then. But all through it I was sustained by the excitement of seeing Graham again.
Unfortunately that wouldn’t happen for a little while. I would need my parents’ car to go visit him and it wasn’t going to be possible for at least a few weeks. That gave me the time to come up with a story to explain why I was going to that town, but it was also nice in a way because it forced us to wait, to build up our excitement. We spent a lot of time on the phone, which was okay (but remember Graham was not much of a talker), and we wrote lots of letters (remember this is a time when the internet and email were around, but people our age didn’t really use them). You could say those letters were my first taste of writing erotica because those were filthy. We wrote each other scenarios about what we wanted to do to each other, some of them in great detail. I remember agonizing about how to refer to certain body parts before just forcing myself to write about, for example, “my cunt.” I felt like I was exploring other ways of being me, saying things like that, things I would never have thought I’d say, let alone liking saying them. But I liked it, with Graham.
Graham’s letters were more out there than mine. He circled back to the old “I want to watch you suck off another guy” theme in more than a few letters, as if he needed to convince me. He didn’t. I frankly loved the idea, though I didn’t understand why I found it exciting. I also didn’t understand why he wanted to do this. I couldn’t imagine wanting to watch him with another girl, so why would he want to watch me with another guy? I have to say I still haven’t found an answer to this question. I know guys often get turned on at the thought of their partners with another man. I don’t get it, but anyway, I didn’t have to. It sounded like fun to me, and if Graham wanted to, why not? Although I wished he wouldn’t keep bringing it up.
Now I have Graham’s side of the correspondence only. I wish I had mine. I remember thinking that for someone older who was studying English Lit, Graham wasn’t a great or imaginative writer. I felt like I was doing better, even then, as a 19 year old who was relatively inexperienced. I put more work into the stories, and I’m sure I tried harder to imagine what Graham would like to read rather than what I wanted. But to be honest I don’t remember any details, just that I forced myself to use words I had never considered sexy. They seemed sexy now.
Finally the weekend came when I could go visit Graham. I left as soon as I could and drove as fast as I dared. I got lost looking for his apartment, and when I got there, Graham was there with his room-mates (two other guys–I know what you’re thinking, it didn’t happen) and acting a bit weird. He was probably stoned, but he definitely wasn’t as affectionate or happy to see me as I expected. This was confusing and it kind of hurt. I guessed he was embarrassed in front of his pal, maybe because I was younger, I don’t know. Anyway, there was about 45 minutes of awkwardness that made me want to get back in my car and drive home. Eventually, I started talking to one of his roommates and after a while the two of us wandered into another room, leaving Graham and his other roommate alone in the kitchen.
After about ten minutes, who came looking for me? Graham. He put his hand on my shoulder (I was sitting on the sofa, he was behind the back of it) and suggested we go see his room, and the other guys said they were going out. In that second, everything was forgiven. We almost ran upstairs. As soon as his door was closed, the passionate Graham I knew was back. We were out of our clothes like that.
I have to admit that most of what I’m writing here–I don’t know how well I’m remembering it. I remember the feelings, but the picture I have in my memory could be nothing like what it actually looked like. I remember a Led Zeppelin poster on Graham’s wall, a spider plant hanging in front of his window, a long shelf from one wall to the next stacked with music cassettes…. There’s historical detail for you. I also distinctly remember Graham on the bed, standing on his knees with his legs apart (so they made an upside down V), basically just presenting his junk to me. I was sitting on the edge of the bed looking, and he was just there, not moving, his great erection proudly aiming at me. I remember distinctly thinking how big his balls were, they seemed to hang halfway down to the mattress. I remember reaching over and gently wrapping my hand around Graham’s shaft, but not doing anything more than hold it lightly. I told him I loved his dick.
Graham’s cock was different from the others I’d seen and touched. I told him this too, and he wanted to know how. He also wanted me to tell him what I loved about it. It wasn’t easy to answer, I just did. Why did I love it? Apart from how it was about to make me feel? I don’t know, really, but it’s the same reasons I remember it so well even now. It was bigger than any penis I’d seen before (and, mostly, since), but that wasn’t really its size that was so memorable. It was also probably the first one I found actually aesthetically beautiful, instead of just … well … interesting and weird, as dicks tend to be. It’s hard to say what makes a cock beautiful. But for what it’s worth Graham’s was perfectly proportioned and had a pleasing, healthy tan color. But that’s not what made it so memorable either.
I don’t know how else to put it, but it seemed to have a life of its own. When it was hard, it stood almost straight up. His dick and balls seemed to be hardly attached to his body, as if they were about to launch from him into the air. I don’t know if that paints a clear image, let alone a sexy one, but I remember it that way and it was impressive as hell. Graham’s erections were epic, it looked as if all his desire was straining to burst out of him, the skin would get so taut and dark. Have you ever tried holding a beachball under water? You can do it, but that ball wants more than anything to come up to the surface, it strains against your hands until it bursts up. That’s what Graham’s cock reminded me of, that simmering energy.
And that’s also pretty much how Graham made me feel too. About to burst at all times. It was a full-body and mind arousal, and it felt so healthy, full of vigor, radiant. I know how this sounds, but it’s very hard to explain. Maybe it was also so exciting and memorable because Graham demanded that I pay it so much attention, not just physically, but actually looking at it, describing it in words (out loud but also in letters). He got a lot of excitement out of hearing me talk about his cock, and his excitement made talking about it exciting to me too.
I’m not sure how well it worked to tell him how much I loved his dick, but anyway, after a while he wanted me to prove it. How? He told me to go with my heart. So I crouched over and kissed his dickhead, which was so smooth and dark I wet it with my tongue and licked around it a bit before kissing down the length of his shaft. Graham was still propped up on his knees and I wanted him to be more comfortable, so I guided him into a sitting position against the wall, eased his legs apart, and tried to show him my love.
I didn’t have a real plan, but to me, showing love was getting in close and basically nuzzling and making out with it. I pressed my face into his crotch and held his dick up along my nose. I rubbed his head against my eyelids, and then my cheeks, my ears, my neck. Then I ran his tip along my lips, and it was slick with precum, so it was like applying lipgloss… Then, overcome, I buried my face into his crotch again, breathing it in, feeling his bush against my lips and skin. I started licking his balls because he asked me to, and then it felt like the game was over and it was time to move on to something more.
Getting all of Graham’s dick into my mouth was impossible, but I did my best. I could still get fit the ring of my thumb and finger around the base, so I stroked and squeezed it while I sucked. Graham talked. He wasn’t very good at talking dirty, and at times I wanted to laugh. But I loved how horny it made him to do it. Of course he brought up that same old idea about me sucking off someone else in front of him, in fact he told me to pretend he was someone else, and he tried describing the scene as if he was a witness instead of the recipient. I was a bit tired of this scenario. I mean, I wanted to act it out as soon as we got a chance, but I was tired of talking about it. I wanted Graham to enjoy me, not the idea of me with some random other guy. Whatever, his talking was getting less coherent as he got closer to cumming anyway, and soon he shut up entirely.
When he whispered that he would love to try cumming on my face, I was shocked. Or not shocked, but deeply surprised. I had never heard of anyone doing that (remember, this is pre-internet! There was porn, but even videos showed men cumming on women’s breasts or in their bush, not on their faces–at least not the few videos I saw with my friends). I stopped sucking him and asked why. It was a legitimate question, I didn’t get why he would prefer to cum on me than in my mouth. He tried to explain. He said it would just look so hot to see sperm spurting onto my pretty face, into my hair. I didn’t get it, but I liked how horny he was for it. So for the first and last time of my life, I agreed. Graham guided his cock back into my mouth, but when he was almost done he pulled out and jerked himself off a few times, then croaked that he was cumming.
I honestly didn’t know what to expect. Certainly not that stream of cum that hit me right on the upper lip, a whole lot of it going up my nostril. Ugh! I shut my eyes only after that first spurt, just in time too. When he was done, Graham sighed and smiled with a contentment that was so endearing. Meanwhile, I wasn’t loving the feeling of cum up my nose, and I was wondering if he’d gotten so much in my hair on purpose. I snuck out to the bathroom to clean myself up, still horny as hell but also feeling a bit weird about this, and looked at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t believe how much that guy could produce. I looked like a melting wax statue. Well, I thought, that was fun. But never again.
Getting the cum out of my hair was impossible, but I did my best before sneaking back to Graham’s room. His roommates were nowhere to be seen. Graham was lying on his back on top of the covers, waiting or asleep, it was hard to tell. I wasn’t wasting any more time. I straddled his neck and lowered my pussy into his face. He raised his chin and pushed out his tongue and to my disappointment (almost) I came right away. I grinded myself against his mouth until I came a second time, this was more satisfying because there was an actual buildup, and then I swivelled myself around so I was facing his legs. I backed up into his face again, stretched my body over his, and took him in my mouth again. He was still soft, so I could get him all in. What a cool feeling to feel him growing in my mouth, filling it until I had to back out a bit.
Now that he was ready again, I shuffled along his body, one knee on each side, and guided him into me. I had never been fucked without a condom before, and I liked it. There was no comparison, actually. So again I found myself being irresponsible and begging Graham not to pull out, to keep going a bit longer before putting on the condom. Again, thankfully, Graham was the responsible one. It sucked, though, to have him pull out and slide a rubber on before sliding back into me. It wasn’t the same, not just the sensation but the rhythm we’d established was off. That’s when I decided that before we saw each other again I would go on the pill.
The rest of the week was more of the same. We barely left his room, let alone his apartment. I heard his roommates laughing about the smell of sex coming off Graham’s room, and thoguh I was embarrassed I was also strangely proud. We had so much sex we had to take a break for over a day, just because we were so sore. I must have swallowed ten ounces of Graham’s cum in those six days.
Ever since I started writing about Graham, I’ve been super curious about what he’s up to now. I’ve tried searching for him online a few times. Not because I want to meet up with him but because I’m curious: what he looks like now, how he’s aged, if he’s married (I can’t imagine it, but then again I never planned on getting married, then I did). But I can’t find him. It’s not surprising. He happens to have the same first and last name as a very famous Graham, so no matter how I search all I get is the famous one.
During my visit to Graham’s, I had resolved to go on the pill. I wanted not to need condoms when he came to visit me a few weeks later for his Spring Break. My parents were totally cool with “my boyfriend” coming to stay with us for six days, though they said he’d have to sleep in the guest bedroom in the basement. They had done this with Ali before, it was more of a thing they felt they should do instead of something they really believed in. They were conveniently unaware that I would sneak down to see him as soon as the house got quiet, and that I would even sometimes fall asleep there with him. There was no reason to think it’d be different with Graham.
So I went on the pill. Our letters that week were full of references to the freedom of Graham being able to cum inside me, and that very phrase filled me with quivers. I was so excited that the few weeks we had to wait felt impossibly long.
At the same time, Graham kept bringing up that fantasy of watching me give head to another guy. You know how guys overdo it. Look, I knew he wanted it badly. But so did I, I thought it’d be awesome to suck off someone else with his permission, while he watched, so it seemed unnecessary for him to keep talking about it. Worse than unnecessary, it was counterproductive because I was starting to get annoyed at him for being so insistent, it made me feel less into it. Finally, I found the perfect way to keep the project alive without having to hear about it all the time.
There was a party happening the second weekend Graham would be in town, just two days before he had to go back to college.. It was an annual thing, a pretty big house party hosted by people from my school I didn’t know so well, but the invitation was always open and I’d been there the last two years. There would be people from all different schools and that seemed like the perfect way to find someone to play with in front of Graham without causing too much social awkwardness afterward. If we found someone I didn’t go to school with, it would be ideal. Then again, I would be graduating and out of town just a few months later. Still, better not to try something like that within a social group, even an extended social group. I shared my idea with Graham and told him we could see about trying it out as long as he didn’t talk about it anymore. I assured him that I was really into it. He reluctantly agreed.
The next few weeks were tortuous, though we wrote some super horny letters and talked on the phone, planning our upcoming visit down to the positions we still had to try. That was fun. Graham was as good as his word about bringing up our little project. He kept it to himself. It must have been killing him not to say anything. He must have known I was scoping out guys who might be at the party, asking my friends who they knew from other schools and so on.
Now real life got in the way. A few days before Graham was to arrive, I came down with a yeast infection. I didn’t know this is pretty common when someone goes on the pill. All I knew was, it was itchy and uncomfortable and there was no chance of sex, let alone cunnilingus, until I had it cured. I was so motivated to get better that I went straight to a walk-in clinic and got this weird egg-like thing to insert into me. The doctor said it’d take a few days to work.
When I met Graham at the bus station I was so worried he’d be disappointed. He probably was, but he was sweet about it. I probably made it easier to bear by promising to blow him as often as he wanted until I was better. And I made good on that promise as soon as we got him to my house. I showed him to his room in the basement and had him sitting on the bed with his pants around his ankles within seconds.
I don’t know why, but it took forever for him to cum this time. My jaw aching, I took a break and decided to take advantage of Graham’s weakness. Wanking him gently, I told him I had someone in mind for our plan, someone I thought might go for getting head in front of my boyfriend. Graham’s demeanor changed instantly. His breathing got hoarse and I felt him get harder in my hand. I told him he could ask questions while I sucked, I’d moan mm-hm for yes. I don’t really remember what he asked me, but he got in about five or six questions about this guy before he was cumming. I could tell it was a huge organsm, and not just because the volume was almost unmanageable. Graham was moaning louder than he ever had, and he was pretty loud for a guy. Joke was on him, though. I didn’t actually have anyone in mind yet. He didn’t need to know that.
This may sound unexciting, but I got pretty tired of sucking Graham’s cock over the next few days. Even he seemed to be losing his hunger for it. The taste of his cum seemed to linger for hours, and it made me kind of nauseous after a while. I also hated not having him pleasure me. We got to talking more at night, fooling around less. To be clear, what we talked about was mostly sex. Graham was the first person I’d ever heard of who wanted to share me. In fact I’d never heard of this fantasy before. It still made no sense to me. I didn’t want to share him! But I could see the effect talking about it had on him, he would get almost drunk with arousal, like his IQ would drop by half when I told stories about what might happen at the party in a few days.
The first time I mentioned the blowjob I would give to this other guy leading to this guy fucking me from behind while Graham watched helplessly, I swear Graham ejaculated just like that, without me doing much more than casually stroking his dick. Having this power, through nothing more than words, might have been my first taste of the power of erotic storytelling. So, while I didn’t get why Graham liked to imagine me with other guys, who cared? I liked imagining me with other guys, and I loved how horny it made him when I openly shared this desire with him.
A few days and nights passed in this way. Still lots of blowjobs, more and more storytelling. By midweek I remember realizing that my body felt normal again. I waited another day to be sure, but that Thursday morning I snuck down into Graham’s room early in the morning and got under the covers with him. He spooned me and I could feel his hard on against my butt. I pulled down my panties just enough to ease in into me, and there it was: my first unprotected fuck. It lasted all of 30 seconds. Somehow I had expected the feeling of a guy spurting into me to be more distinct, but actually I mostly just felt his cock twitching inside me, then getting soft gradually. It was only when I pulled away and stood up that anything really felt different. The glob of semen slipped out of me and ran down my leg feeling weirdly hot. Meanwhile, Graham was apologizing again and again for finishing so fast. I tried to reassure him. We’d have plenty more chances.
The next day involved a fuckload of fucking. The first few times, Graham could not control himself. He kept cumming after less than a minute, sometimes a bit longer. He was definitely upset, and though I tried to make him feel better, I did kinda want him to last longer enough to make me cum. Not like that normally takes long! But after about 5 or 6 fucks his body basically couldn’t cum too fast anymore. Then began a whole new phase of our sexual relationship. I loved the feeling of his bare cock inside me, and I found it strangely fascinating to see his sperm spill out of me afterwards. Knowing his seed was inside me felt extremely intimate too. I worried that I’d never be able to go back to condoms after this.
On Friday morning before I went to school (oh yeah, I was still going to school during the days–Graham would wander around town while I was in class) I snuck down again before taking my shower. We fucked in missionary position, not our usual. We usually preferred me on top, or from behind. Anyway, when he was nearly cumming, Graham told me he’d always wanted to cum on a girl’s pussy and watch her rub it into her lips and bush. It was, he said, his favorite part of pornos. I thought this was funny, like funny-weird, but whatever. I saw no harm in it. So when he pulled out and spewed into my pubes, I waited till he was done, then spread my legs as he requested and rubbed myself. It did feel good to basically frig myself with his spunk as lube, but the cum in my bush was a real mess. It was a nightmare washing that out in the shower.
That evening, after dinner, when Graham as usual charmed my parents, we drove down to the party. I could tell Graham was preoccupied, and I wondered if we’d actually go through with the plan. I was not particularly worried either way. Whatever else happened, I was determined to fuck Graham in someone else’s bed, and this big house was a perfect place for it.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/v7b236/f_portraits_of_my_f46_past_lovers_part_iiiii