I had slept with a fair amount of people, but S will always be a very special one that stands out from the bunch. Probably because of the relationship we shared, probably because how much he knows about me, in both physical and emotional ways. I won’t dive into all the details, but we met during one lonely Christmas from this mutual magazine that we both wrote for. He is a year older than me, and goes to one of the most(if not, the most) prestigious university in the UK. He’s about 6’, athletic, has dark, long curly hair and dresses exactly like his personality: someone extremely smart who also plays guitar in a rock band. I’m about 5’4, slim, brunette wavy hair to my chest and brown eyes. I am not exactly hourglass figure but I’ve been complimented on my curves. Generally speaking, we are both attractive by all obvious means.
I ‘dated’ S on and off for 6 months, I say date, but truth is it was all unclear and ambiguous and really toxic for me, because I was really into him but he obviously didn’t feel the same way. Yet I still didn’t break it off because I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking him, and it was so good that I couldn’t think of sleeping with anyone else. We had a very dominant/submissive relationship that goes just beyond the bedroom. We would be going on an innocent walk and I would be teasing him with jokes, then he would stop in the middle of the road to kiss me and I would intentionally grind my hips on his already-hard cock. Then later when we finally make it back in his dorm, he would look at me in a certain way that would just make me instantly wet. And we would fuck like the world is going to end tomorrow. That’s the kind of relationship we had, and both of us acknowledged how much we loved fucking each other.
It was strange, because he wasn’t exactly good at foreplay or anything. But I never needed any when I was with him, he had a very particular way of turning me on, by just words, actions, and sometimes just a look.
I broke up with him over text, which was kinda shitty, but given how he treated me, maybe not so shitty. Anyways, we didnt see each other for a month after that, until one night when I was a bit drunk and accidentally texted him.
‘I thought you would never message again.’
‘Well, I did.’
‘Should we talk? Properly, in person.’
I knew what this meant, and there really wasn’t much to talk apart from how much of an ass he was to me and how I put up with it for months(for example, he didn’t even want to spend valentines with me and instead went to a sex shops with his friends). But drunk me has no judgement power, so drunk me writes:
‘Sure.’
We met at a bar, we had some drinks, not enough to justify any drunk actions. We chatted shit for an hour, dancing around different topics until there really wasn’t much left to say. Then there he was, sat across me, and he said, “I should finish this drink and leave.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to do things that I would regret if I stayed longer.”
“Things like what?”
“If we had been the way we were…then right now, we would be doing different things.”
That’s the precise moment I knew all my expectations weren’t wrong, and I was about to make all the mistakes I had promised myself to not make, but I stared back, sipped my drink, and said in a low and seductive voice that he knew,“Things like what?”
“You know perfectly well.”
“Do I?”
“You are very hard to resist.”
*I know, and so do you.*
“The temptation?”
“Yes, the temptation.”
“We shouldn’t do this.”
“Should we?”
We sat there, both not saying a word, and a thousand thoughts were running through my mind, then he leaned over and touched my face in a certain way as if I was his, and I found myself with no words left to say. His fingers brushed towards my chin, and I stood up.
“let’s get the fuck out of this place.”
Minutes later we stood outside in an alleyway, and he said, “ I don’t know whether that’s a good decision.”
Of course it is not, but I didn’t say anything. I looked at him, and he leaned in closer, asking “ what do you think?”
“I can’t think.” I couldn’t really finish this sentence before our lips touched each other.He kissed me in a hungry way, and I didn’t waste a second to kiss him back.
Whilst we were all over each other’s face, his hand moved down to grab my ass and I let out a little gasp. He leaned his body closer to mine and I could feel that he was already hard, then we broke off the kiss and he stood there, looking at me as if I was some dangerous forbidden figure.
“Let’s go. I need to fuck you.”
I will spare you the details of how we not so discreetly touched each other on a very busy bus at 8pm, and how my fingers ran through his hard-on as people probably watched us with disbelief. The way home was long, and we didn’t have enough to say apart from how much we wanted each other and how wrong it probably was. We stopped about 3 times in the middle of the street to make out and he whispered to my ear, “I wish I could fuck you here.”
When we closed the door behind us we couldn’t even make it upstairs. His hand was in my pants before I could take my top off, and to no one’s surprise, I was soaking wet. He didn’t take long to finger me before he stopped and shoved the same fingers down my mouth, asking me to taste myself.
*I really fucking liked that.*
I went down on him in the kitchen, as he literally ordered me to kneel and pushed my head down his legs, fucking my face ruthlessly. That also didn’t last long either, before he bent me over and thrusted inside me.
*Guess none of us was very patient.*
I almost forgot how good he fucks, but everything came back instantly as he was back inside of my wet pussy. We fucked for a good 10 mins before he stopped abruptly and turned me around, looking at me in the dark.
“I want to fuck you in front of the mirror, go upstairs.”
*Did I mention I happen to have a full body mirror?*
I barely had a second to turn on a lamp when we got into my room, before he pushed my face into the cold glass and fucked me so hard that I could hardly stand up.
“Watch this, me fucking you. You love it.”
*I did.*
He always had this almost charming look when he fucked me, and when he notices my glance he smiles devilishly, knowing how good his cock makes me feel and how little I could contain my screams. It was so good to the extent that I was basically oxygen deficient and dizzy as hell.
*This guy literally fucks the brain out of me.*“
I miss fucking you so much.”
“I know you do.”
“I masturbated to it.”
He slowed down his pace, now we are on my bed and I’m riding him, his one hand on my throat and another spanking me.
“Good girl.”
I gasped, then he started fucking me and I rolled my eyes to the back of my head. I don’t know how long it lasted exactly, but we must have fucked for a good 40 minutes before he collapsed next to me.
“Hopefully I will see you soon.” He said as he started to get dressed, not even a minute after being balls deep in me.
*Dude was a real douchebag, but I did fuck him many times afterward, unfortunately.*
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/xpu9ne/he_was_a_dickhead_but_fucked_my_brainoutmf