A Memory 💦

Typically people have a tendency to oversell themselves. At least braggarts do. That’s what I thought you were. There is some truth to that in other aspects, but when it comes to sex, you deserve to brag.

How it started is kind of hazy, it was always like that back then. We spent as many late hours as we could drinking and playing pool and that only added to the tension. We’re both too competitive for our own good. You always had me beat at playing pool though. We probably started our night there. I probably lost every game we played. I probably owed you more kisses, our currency for victory, than I actually provided. We definitely ended up at your place then.

At your place, we probably drank a few more beers and ate some cheap fast food. Maybe we put something on that we could act like we would be watching. This is where I’ll pretend to know the rest. 

It had to have started with you making the first move. I always made you break when we would play pool because I was never good at it. Too nervous. You pulling me close and making it all too easy to melt in the warmth of your embrace. Being intentionally coy, I liked to push back, pretending I didn’t want it. It’s a test of your confidence really. You could see right through it. You didn’t realize at the time but kissing or caressing a certain spot on my neck is my greatest weakness. At the risk of sounding irredeemably lame, it’s exactly like in How to Train Your Dragon when Hiccup finds he can incapacitate a dragon by scratching its neck. Immediate submission. (I’m cringing while typing this).

You had to have kissed me there that night. I don’t think anyone will ever realize how immediately that turns me on. I can’t even describe it accurately myself. My nerves fire on all ends and it forces me to be receptive to carnal pleasures. Goosebumps cover my body and I can’t help but push my ass back to receive. I can only equate it to the submission of prey to predator. Something natural. Something primal.

You tend to brag about how much manhood you’re packing. I tend to brag about how wet I can get. Literally dripping if you make me want it badly enough. That night I did so badly. You would have gotten me to undress down to just my panties in seconds. I never like taking my panties off myself. That’s always a surprise for whoever is lucky enough to see me naked in person. You would have pulled my thong down to reveal a wet spot so eager that it would drip down from me like honey. Your enthusiasm would always leave me grinning while I lay there waiting. You would always go down on me then. I don’t think you could help it and I sympathize with your feelings. There is something devilish in me that wants me to push my partner so close to orgasm that their body squirms and they whine and whimper. You seem to do the same.

I was never one for receiving oral and I still am not. I much prefer going down on my partner thanks to an oral fixation typically expressed through years of sunflower seeds, bubble gum, and cigarettes. I do enjoy receiving but it’s always been something of an appetizer to me. The main course is always penetration. Still, I loved to look at you down there. Looking up at me with intent you don’t see in polite company. That’s what I always loved about sex. How people look at you. Bedroom eyes. It’s overwhelming to think about even now.

You would have made me squirm on your tongue. I’m thankful you let me know how a pierced tongue feels pressing into my clit. You would have made me impatient. My legs, shaking, as you flicked your tongue. I know you were impatient too. You would have risen and wiped my juices away from your face. You would have pulled me close and pushed the head of your penis between my lips without entering me. You would have brought your face to mine and made me feel every agonizing second before you’d kiss me and I’d taste myself on your lips. Then you would finally plunge yourself into me, as effortless as your break.

Taking all of you was always difficult. In some positions, impossible. I’d yelp and have to pull away. You would make me feel all of you. Every inch splitting me in two. Feeling the head of your cock pushing through me was always my favorite. I could feel the shape of it inside me. Digging into my gspot and pushing into my cervix as far back as it could go. You’d stop with your full length inside. Waiting for me to adjust to it before you would continue. You’d make it twitch inside me. God, I loved that. I would kindly return the favor by squeezing you tighter. You’d moan. That would start a game. A twitch followed by a squeeze and immediately, a twitch. When we both finally couldn’t take the back and forth any longer you’d pull yourself out of me and then push all the way back in. Then the real fun would start. With all the tension I could cum immediately. Every thrust pushing me closer and closer. I’d whine for it. You’d wrap your hands around my hips and slam such a perfect pairing of parts together. I’d cry for it. When it finally was too much for me I’d put my hand between my legs and rub my clit between my fingers. I was grateful you never took offense to this like some in the past have. It was only ever to push me over the edge. I could never cum the way I do with you while by myself. My toes would curl and my body would tense up so bad I’d push your cock out from how hard I would squeeze. You’d push yourself past my hands and my lips and keep thrusting until I begged you to stop the overstimulation. You didn’t even cum yet. While I gasped for air you asked me to turn around. This is where I know what happened.

We started again with me on my hands and knees on the bed. You lined yourself up to me and placed a hand on the small of my back before thrusting yourself inside me. This time you didn’t wait for me to adjust. You went for what you wanted. I moaned as you slid inside me again and again. I arched my back and spread my legs apart farther to take in more of you. You took the opportunity to pull me up with both arms until I was sitting atop you like a throne. Both on our knees in worship of the moment. You kept thrusting inside me. I could feel your balls slapping against my clit and something else building inside me. I’ve always equated orgasms to a glass slowly filling with water. The level rising until the last drop breaks the surface tension and it all comes spilling over. This time was more like that than I could have ever imagined. I slid my hands between my legs again and played with my clit once more. I could feel each stroke pushing into me so hard it distended my stomach. I could feel the tip of your cock against my forearm. When I finally came I cried out for god and I poured out my juices onto the bed. You whined, “YES!” from behind me as you felt the wetness gushing down your shaft and I whimpered. I could feel the juices on my fingertips. You kept fucking me until you couldn’t take it any longer. You pulled out of me and shot your own load as I fell forward. Covering my cheeks in your cum. We sat for a minute panting before you brought over a rag and wiped us both clean. You were good about that. I stared in disbelief at the large wet spot on your bed. You stood grinning at my shock. I didn’t know I could do that. We put a towel down on the bed and you kissed me before we tried to find a spot to sleep around the wetness in the center of the bed. We laughed when that was impossible and went to sleep holding each other.

I miss times like that.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/111x1sy/a_memory

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