The Weekend of a Lifetime: A story in four Acts [MF]

Warning: Long. **TL;DR**: Had sex

Styling note: Anything italicized is my internal monologue. e.g. *Why am I adding a styling note, anyway? Folks will rub one out and abandon the wall of text midway*.

**Act 1: Incredulity**

A few weeks ago, I was browsing Reddit, minding my business, when I received a notification “u/___ just followed you”.

My first thought was – *Huh? I haven’t posted anything in a while. Why would anyone follow me? Likely a bot!*

I clicked through their profile and learnt it was a 2 month old account. *Okay, likely not a bot then. Or a bot playing the long game, perhaps!* 

I shot a chat back thanking them for following me. I received a response immediately “I liked your post about tantric sex. Tell me more.” 

*Ohhhhhh, that would explain it! But I made that post a while ago..? This male/female/bot went deep in the local r4r archives to find my ad!*

I had time on my hands. If memory serves, I was in the middle of a long-drawn corporate Zoom call and ready to give myself a lobotomy if it meant I would get out of it. So I gave this male/female/bot an intro to Tantric sex. It’s something I like talking about, so even if this *was* a bot, I figured I’d be providing it with good training material. 

We chatted for a while before requesting to share pics. What I sent was me trying to accentuate all my highlights while hiding all my flaws. Readers of GWS – we’ve all read tales where the male protagonist is a long-schlonged god, the woman is *literally* Helen of Troy, where everyone scores an 11 on a 10-point scale. The pic I received, however, was so unbelievably hot that I dismissed it *immediately*. Posing in front of a hotel mirror. 5 foot 4, Caucasian, blonde hair, breasts so perfect you question everything you know about human anatomy. *Oh my god those shoulders! That ass!* This was the body of a literal athlete – all muscle, contours, *holy-shit-is-that-a-six-pack*? This photo was an 11 on a 10-point scale. 

*Yeah nice try, Russian Bot!*

My incredulity was unwarranted. The picture wasn’t fake. Putin wasn’t messing with me. Claire was as real as the prolonged Pumpkin Spice Season at Starbucks. She was happily married and had just started dipping her toes in the Hotwife lifestyle. We talked a lot over the next two weeks – over Reddit chat, over the phone. Every new fact I learnt about her made me think I was being subject to a nicely-planned prank. Claire was a fitness addict. She had an engineering background. She worked out 7 days a week. She could squat more than my bodyweight. 

The only catch? She lived 6 hours away!

As we talked more and my insecurities subsided (*she could squat my bodyweight, dammnit!*), I threw out an improbable plan. On a Tuesday, I pitched getting a hotel room near her town that very Friday and invited her to come hang. *There’s no way she’s saying yes to this. See – I know this isn’t real.* 

“Sure I’ll make it work”, says Claire. *Fuck me.*

Friday arrived. I drove for four hours and checked into the hotel. She was still an hour away. I was a bundle of nerves and still very much prepared to be punked! *How do I pass the damn time? Should I rub one out? No, that doesn’t feel right. Oh I’ll watch some Netflix*. To take my mind off Claire and not be a blubbering mess if she *was* real and *did* come, I started watching The Great British Bake Off. My mind was thinking buns, I suppose.

“I’m here. The door to the stairway is locked but feels flimsy. I could break it easily” my phone lights up. *Fuck me.*

I walked to the stairwell entry. She was leaning on the railing, looking at the mountain range in the distance. Black tank top. Denim short shorts. Flip flops. Loose blond hair. Sculpted body. *Fuck. Me.* 

**Act 2: Levity & Lust**

I opened the door to the stairwell and drank Claire in. Readers, we’ve all read tales with the “OMG she/he was so much better looking in person!” trope. And yet, I found myself thinking the exact same thought. Instinctively, I went in for a warm embrace. 

“There you are! It’s so good to finally meet you..” and before I could finish my sentence I clasped Claire in a tight hug. She reciprocated. *Oh she smells nice! Argan oil, something else floral, girly and sexy. Mmmm.*

We started kissing on the spot while standing out in the open. Her 5’4 frame nestled nicely into my 6’0 body. Claire knew I’d get physical and handsy right away – I had told her it’s the best way to shake off awkward nerves and jitters. She gladly espoused my theory – less time being awkward exchanging Hellos and more time intertwined was her *modus operandi* too!

We walked to the room, hand in hand like giddy teenagers at a prom trying to find a secret spot for the evening – making out in the elevator, making out as we walked to the room, making out as I opened the door. To paint a picture, the room wasn’t glamorous at all – two twin beds, a coffee table, a dresser with a TV, night lamps. Claire didn’t seem to mind one bit. “One bed for our clothes, one for us”, she quipped!

*Fuck, here we finally are. Behind closed doors.* 

Claire looked gorgeous standing there in her black tank top and short denim shorts. I offered her water to keep the conversation flowing. She, however, had other ideas. She pulled me in for a kiss and wrapped her leg behind mine. “Come here! I’m not letting you go anywhere”. *Fuck me*.

For the first time, I got to *feel* her body with my hands as I made out with her. *Holy shit*, I remembered thinking. Why is this person not on TV *right now* winning American Ninja Warrior-type game shows? Claire had gorgeous, supple-to-touch deltoids and biceps. Her butt was firm. Her quads could’ve been carved by Michelangelo himself. I was in disbelief, expecting harsh bright lights to come on any moment with someone bellowing “Gotcha! LOL!”. No, she was here, this was real, and she seemed to be into me. It was this moment that I decided to accept the good fortune I had somehow conjured for myself and to not second-guess anything going forward.

Naively, though, I said the quiet part out loud “Claire, I’m having an out of body moment. Like, you’re so hot, I almost want to watch us make out from a 3rd person’s view because this feels unreal. I’m going to try so hard to be present in the moment with you and not forget a single thing”. *Way to act like Michael Cera, champ, in less than 15 minutes of meeting her.* 

“I want to be in this moment with you too” Claire reaffirmed and went back to kissing me. 

Seconds later, the clothes came off. Claire wasn’t too covered up to begin with but seeing her whole body naked, one she had painfully sculpted into a work of art, was giddying. Our naked bodies embraced, we kissed some more, a hurried passion taking us over. 

I playfully pushed Claire on the bed and spread her legs wide. A gorgeous, perfectly shaved pussy welcomed and beckoned me. Don’t mind if I do! As soon as my mouth met her pussy, her legs wrapped around my shoulders to lock me in place again. *Well – I am going to be there for a while, might as well make the most of it.* 

Lads who’ve made it thus far, here’s a pro tip – when eating pussy, no one likes hesitant kitty licks. If you’re licking, keep the strokes firm and deliberate. Take your time, chances are if she has let you get this far, she’s not going anywhere in a hurry. Lick the pussy, pay attention to the clitoral area, kiss the inner thighs, if you’re feeling adventurous venture down to her butthole and give it a teasing lick. I was doing all these things. Claire’s moans were all the feedback I needed. Sufficiently warmed up, I carefully exposed her clit so as to not overstimulate it, put my lips around it in an O-shape and started sucking her clit very slowly. I love this dance so much – figuring out how my partner’s body responds to me. She moaned loudly. *We’re in business.* 

I’ve learnt over the years that, in the matters of both Engineering and Intercourse, don’t mess with whatever is working. I continued giving Claire’s clit a literal blowjob, occasionally running my tongue over her clit to give it a pressure sensation. Things were going swimmingly in Cunnilingus County. My mouth at work, her legs wrapped around my shoulder, my left hand fondling her perfect tits, I needed to find a job for my right hand. I put two fingers in her glistening vagina and very slowly let them dart in and out of her wetness. Again, then again, and again. I didn’t even realize that with every thrust of my fingers inside her, my entire upper torso was pushing into her body, and as I retracted my hands, it was pulling back. *Fingers in, push, fingers out, pull*. The motion her body felt would have been similar to penetrative sex (with the added benefit of my mouth blowing her clit). I lost track of how long I kept this rhythm up. Every available limb of mine was in play, in service of her pleasure. Claire’s moans were loud. “OMG! Yes! What is this even!” might’ve been uttered by her. My poor legs went numb from sitting on the floor at the edge of the bed and I desperately needed water. I had to take a small break. 

“Not the first time we’ve done this, have we?” Claire smiled at me mischievously. I blushed. “Now get your dick inside of me”, she cutely commanded.

It then dawned upon me that something obvious had been missing all this time – TUNES! I fired up my Spotify and asked Claire – “What should I play? Sarah McLachlan? Punk rock? Just say the word!” She just laughed, said she’s good with anything. So I went with what I love most – Classic Rock!

Such a good choice. First song? “Come Together” by The Beatles. Taking that as a good omen, I jump into bed and we start making love. “Claire, are you going to cum together, right now, over me?” I ask her in between kissing her neck and her lips, while I’m deep inside her. I could *hear* her eyes roll. My hands were clasping hers, pinning them to the bed. I was moving to the music. Kissing her here, pecking her there. I saw an exposed ear and proceeded to sink my warm and wet tongue in it. Claire shivered. “Wow that hasn’t happened since high school!” she laughed. We made love to more classic rock, joking around whenever we weren’t thrusting and grunting. 

“Hey, did you take the Highway to Hell to get here today?” I asked Claire. 

“No, I took the Stairway to Heaven, remember?” More laughs. More thrusts. More fondling. More of Claire dissolving into me, and I into her.

Being a Queen fan, it was only fitting for me that midway through Bohemian Rhapsody, I couldn’t contain it any longer. No amount of counting prime numbers, no amount of recounting US Presidents going back to the early 1900s was going to work anymore. Aided by Claire’s body and Freddie’s smooth voice, thinking about Calvin Coolidge, I came deep inside Claire.  

We took a 10 minute intermission where I hydrated, made sure Claire was okay, riffed jokingly on more classic rock. Soon enough, we were back in the game again, a blur of limbs and bodies and bodily fluids once more. I asked Claire to come bend over by the window, with a lively bar visible to us outside, traffic starting and stopping, the sun setting over Mt. Shasta in the distance. Claire, instinctually, was on her tippy toes (her husband is a very tall guy!). “You don’t have to be on your tippy toes for me, babe. Relax your body..” She smiled and assumed position. What followed was a long and aggressive fucking session from the behind. Hair was pulled, cheeks were hooked, at one point I was so intent on keeping my pace and the intensity of my thrusts that I didn’t realize I was smooshing Claire’s face against the glass window. Turns out, she didn’t realize it either, so lost was she in being taken from behind. After *many* classic rock songs of fucking in that position, Claire said “I’d like to lie on my back now”. I was glad she said it because my poor heart might’ve given out moments later.

With her back on the bed, I grabbed her ankles, spread her legs open and entered her while still standing by the bedside. Slow, deep strokes, just enjoying looking at her and she at me. Claire’s foot was next to my idling mouth, so I started licking her calf, putting her toes in my mouth, all the while continuing slow and deep strokes. “OMG are you real?” I recall Claire saying. I just smiled at her, her toe still in my mouth, and went back to letting my tongue and lips explore her lower limbs. More classic rock songs go by. We switched positions and I let Claire ride me while I lay on the bed, letting her put the moves on me this time. She controlled the rhythm, eyes closed, mouth agape, her blonde mane of hair swinging with her body. All I could do was ogle. At that moment, I realized I might have been the luckiest guy in California.

When Claire tired of riding me, we locked lips again. The more we groped and made out, the better our kisses got. She would tease me with her tongue, I would bite her lip gently, occasionally my tongue would stray to explore her nostril, or hers to kiss my forehead. My needy mouth wanted Claire to sit on my face, she obliged. Squatting over my mouth, I let my tongue roam her pussy, perineum, butthole, back and forth, over and over again. I could have lived there all day. After a long time of Claire straddling my face, Claire said “I’d love to keep you down there but my quads are on fire right now!”. I laughed, got her to dismount my face and grabbed her in a tight embrace. 

At this point, it had been more than 3 hours of intimacy since we met at the stairwell. 

“You want to get something to eat before places shut down?”.

“Let me fix my hair first, it looks like I got the shit fucked out of me” says Claire. 

It was time for a much deserved intermission for both of us!

**Act 3: Bonding & Melting**

During dinner, Claire and I finally got a chance to connect as most people do, 1-on-1, no sexual undertones. Just two humans, chilling, polishing off Chipotle bowls and re-energizing after hours of sex. Claire let it slip that she used to be a Division 1 athlete with an engineering scholarship. By this time, I had lost count of the number of times my jaw made contact with the floor. 

“Wait, you were a D1 athlete?”

“Sure was. Pole vaulter.”

“Shoot, that explains all that muscle mass and strength!”

“Oh no, I’m in much better shape now than I was back then” Claire smirked.

“And an engineering scholarship on top of it?”

“Biochem, baby”.

We talked about her family, how her sister number three Maria is a bit of a bitch who injects drama into the family. We talked about her husband, who sounded like an all-around great dude. I don’t remember how we got to the topic of 9/11 but Claire was interested in my lived experience as a brown man navigating 9/11 and its continued aftermath. It wasn’t the plan but we got *real* deep. Forget the sexy bits that happened prior and that would come later – if this were a first date and nothing more, I’d have rated it a 10/10. We were bonding, there was depth, I appreciated Claire so much more as a human after this brief interlude.

Back at the hotel, while Claire used the restroom, I wondered what I should do. *Oh I know, let me take my clothes off and just get under the covers*. When she emerged from the restroom, Claire said “would you be okay if I took my clothes off before getting under those bedsheets?”. 

“Slide right in girl, I’m already buck naked!”. 

Being fed and rehydrated, sex took on a renewed energy. Lots of kissing, spit, hair pulling, nipple nibbling, neck biting, forehead kissing, earlobe teasing, no part of Claire’s body was off limits to any part of mine.

“If you’re nice to me, I’ll let you fuck my ass.” said Claire.

“I’ve been nothing but nice!” I said , in mock consternation.

“True. Okay, fuck my ass! But be *verrrry* gentle with me, it has been a long time since I got any action back there. And I’ve only ever tried it with 2 other men”

“I feel so honored!”

“We can nickname you Number Three if you like”

“No, save that nickname for Maria, your bitchy sister,” I said.

Claire burst out laughing and got in the doggy position. I gave her butthole a couple of slow, deep licks and kisses to let it know that a party was about to start. With the help of a lot of lube, lots of patience, lots of reminders from Claire to be gentle, my head made it past her butthole. It took us a very long time for my entire shaft to be inside her ass. Everything was slow, deliberate. I was keenly observing Claire’s every breath, every movement, every sharp sigh to make sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Once inside her, I distinctly remember taking a mental snapshot. Here I was, fully inside this gorgeous woman’s ass (something not part of her usual sexual routine). As Claire laid out in front of me, her gorgeous traps and lats accentuating her V-shaped back, her blonde hair sprawled all over her head and onto the bed, I was once again reminded that, in that moment, I was the luckiest guy in California. 

Anal sex was slow. No words were spoken, we just let our bodies converse. If I did something that elicited a sharp breath, I’d self-correct. I’d wait to hear her moans to know I was giving pleasure. I chose to rest my hands on her buns of steel. *So that’s what a pole vaulter’s ass feels like. She could crush a diamond between those cheeks if she wanted to.*

I missed Claire’s face so I exited her ass and asked her to lay on her back. Still standing at the edge of the bed, I opened up her legs and entered her ass again, slowly. The shock on her face was cute!

“I’ve never been ass-fucked while lying on my back. This is new!”

“Once again, I’m honored!”

I continued fucking Claire’s ass in this position for a long time. My roving hands enjoyed every part of her from this position. I saw her reactions better, self-corrected, more moans. If there existed a purer bliss, I didn’t know it. 

Ultimately, we were spent from anal. I got us water, got Claire wipes, washed my dick in the shower because I was planning to go back to her vagina. Back in bed, I asked Claire to ride me as I lay on my back. Once again, she put on such a great show, even if she wasn’t aware of it at the moment! Loud moans, grabbing my chest hair one minute, grabbing my thighs to balance herself, riding, riding, riding.

In our conversations leading up to our meeting, Claire had warned me that she was much more vanilla than I am. I wanted to push her boundaries.

“Hey Claire, give me a slap” I asked her as she was riding me.

“What? No!!!! Really???”

“Yeah, try it. It’ll be hot.”

*slap*. I got the feeblest tap to the face known to mankind. 

“Do better. Weren’t you a D1 athlete?”

*Slap.*

“Do better.”

*SLap*

“You’re getting there”

*SLAP!*

“There we go!” – I said.

“OMG are you okay?”

“More than okay. You’re in total control baby!”

Claire continued to ride me, but regressed back to lighter slaps. I enjoyed watching her concerned face every time she’d go for it. Watching her mental gears turn in real time, watching her experience something out of her usual routine, was *so* adorable.

Tired from riding, Claire collapsed on me, her face next to mine, my dick still inside her. This was all the invitation I needed to continue pounding her while I lay on my back. This time around, I was in control of the speed. Moreover, her gorgeous face and tits were next to my mouth so I put it to good use. Between pounding her, sucking on her breasts, and a free hand groping and slapping her butt, I was the literal embodiment of a spring-wound toy soldier banging his cymbals and drums, going around in perpetual motion. *Thump thump thump* went my dick inside and out of her, *lick slurp suck* went my mouth on her tits, *slap slap slap* went my hand on her asscheeks.

“OMG are you for real?” gasped Claire. 

My mouth was too preoccupied to reply.

Having kept up the toy soldier routine for a long time, I was spent. I stopped the pounding, ceased the slapping, and pulled Claire in for a tight embrace and a long kiss. 

I looked at the time, it was already past midnight. I had been drinking water and Gatorade for the past 8 hours and I realized I hadn’t had to use the restroom even once – we both were sweating it all out!

“Let me spoon you babygirl” I said to Claire. She let me be the big spoon, and nestling into me she guided my hard dick inside her. This was the most perfect angle and so very intimate. I was skin to skin with this gorgeous woman, I could smell her hair, kiss the back of her neck, lick her earlobes. Our lips met lazily and we made out while my hands explored her body, my dick in and out. We kept it going. This wasn’t primal. This was intimate. Two humans bonding. I’d come to learn every ridge of Claire’s lips, every curve of her body, and for the nth time in the same evening, I was the luckiest guy in California. 

“Claire I’m going to cum inside you once again” 

“Yes” she whispered.

This time I wasn’t counting primes. I wasn’t recounting Presidents. I just came. Blissful. Content. Spent.

Claire rolled over, facing me. Took my face in her hands. Caressed my hair. It must have been past 12:30am.

“You were telling me at dinner that you compete in Crossfit games?” I remember asking her.

“Yeah, I do. I’m really good at the Clean and Jerk..” whispered Claire, continuing to caress my hair,  “but my favorite is…..”

If she finished the sentence, I didn’t hear it. I dozed as she cradled me.

**Act 4: Longing**

I distinctly remember the digital clock showed 05:20 when my dick first stirred. As the rest of my body came to its senses, I deduced that Claire and I were still enmeshed in each other. I grabbed her hand and positioned it on my chest. She gave it a gentle rub. *Wait a minute, she’s up already?*

“You up?” I croaked, sleepily

“Mmmm yeah. Been up since 5. My body clock never fails”

“Why didn’t you wake me up too??”

“I was enjoying hearing your cute snores way too much!” she purred.

I turned over in the pitch dark and went for her lips. *What about morning breath, dude? I know, I know, but I miss her delicious lips*…. Claire returned my kiss enthusiastically and once again, whatever concerns I had went poof. After minutes of kissing, reading her body like Braille all this while, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. When I returned, Claire was still in bed.

“Hey Claire, have you had a good time thus far?”

“Of course! Why do you ask?”

“I wanted to make sure I met whatever expectations you had of me before yesterday”

“You’ve blown me away twice already. First – when we started talking. I was a fan! And the second time when you opened the door to the stairwell yesterday and I saw you in person. I was smitten again. Now come here!”

I was not expecting such flattery at such an ungodly hour. All I could do was to jump in the bed with her again. 

Both of us were choosing to not verbalize the fact that Claire had to start driving back at 7:30am. We had a little more than 90 minutes together. Every movement, every moment there on out was laden with gravitas. I was reminding myself to be present, to be there with her. And yet, I already longed for her, even though I was inside her. It makes no sense to read, I know. It makes no sense to write that either. We enjoyed each other in the missionary position for a long time, me gently kissing any part of Claire I could lay my lips on. I gave her forehead a thousand kisses, I nibbled on her fingers, I sucked her fingertips, our bodies rhythmically pulsating together. The room started to go from pitch dark, to shades of grey, till a dull crimson was spilling inside the room. 

Claire excused to go to the restroom. The clock was ticking. After a few minutes of waiting for her, I opened the door to the bathroom. She stood by the sink, undressed, finishing up applying a delicious, fragrant lotion.

“Hi!” she looked at me, startled.

“I missed you” I walked in and kissed her.

No words spoken, she bent over the sink and I knew what I had to do. I entered her from behind. What an amazing sight! I could not only see us in the flesh, I saw us in the reflection of the big mirror in front of us, *as well as* in the reflection of the side mirror. The visual stimulation of me fucking a goddess from behind (times three!!!) was just too indelible to ever forget.

After some time, I told Claire I wanted one last time to be inside her while looking out the window. The sun was starting to illuminate Mt. Shasta. Claire took the position she had by now taken many times, I gently glided myself in her, and marveled at the serene view both right in front of me and in the far distance. Reader, if you’ve not made love *while* watching the sun come up behind a majestic mountain, you need to get on that. 

“Let me show you a trick” Claire said, while I was gliding in and out of her, her hands and head perched on the window still.

“Huh?” was all I could mutter.

Claire bent down so her palms were touching the floor in front of her, her two feet still solidly planted on the ground. Her golden hair fell to the ground in a gorgeous cascade. I realized I was still fucking her from the behind. 

“OK, OK, I know I’m making you miss your morning workout. Don’t show off!” I burst out laughing. I pulled Claire up, turned her face to mine, and kissed her deeply again. *Fuck, I’m going to miss you*.

The clock, *that goddamn fucking piece of shit clock*, showed a few minutes past 7 am. 

“Hey Claire, I want to spoon you.”

She took her position obediently and I took mine. I entered her from behind. These were my last couple of minutes with Claire and I wanted to enjoy her, relish her in the best way I knew how. We kissed, our hands explored each other, I slid in and out gently. I buried my nose in her hair and took a long, deliberate whiff. Even if I could control it, I didn’t want to – I came inside Claire as I held her body tightly against mine. We stayed there for a tad longer, then Claire had to start dressing.

I just remember sitting on the edge of the bed. She put on her shorts, then walked over to me to kiss me deeply. After a few minutes, she remembered she had to leave and went to put on her tank top. Acting on instinct, she came back to kiss me again. After some moment had elapsed, she grabbed her bag, started to head out the door, walked back to kiss and embrace me a third time.

“I don’t want to leave just yet,” Claire said.

I managed a feeble smile. We kissed, embraced, and enjoyed each other for the last time. Claire gave me a peck on the cheek, turned out, and walked out of the room.

I sat back on the edge of the bed. Anyone entering the room would’ve caught me staring blankly at the carpet for far too long. I was replaying everything that had happened since that morning, since yesterday, since the time I got a red envelope saying “u/___ just followed you”.

When I finally looked up and out of the window, I saw the sun burning fiercely behind Mt. Shasta. I took a quick shower, gathered my things, and drove to Mount Lassen to hike to its summit.

For the last time that weekend, I felt like the luckiest guy in California.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/yiqp0f/the_weekend_of_a_lifetime_a_story_in_four_acts_mf