Who am I?

The following story may or may not be real:

​

Four years. It had been four years since the last time I had felt the warmth and comfort of a woman. You see, I had moved back home in my mid-twenties to return to school and somewhere along the way I lost myself.

I decided to return home for my education primarily, however to be honest I needed to leave. I had been working in bars and nightclubs and the lifestyle had become a grind. For a quiet, conservative, and introverted guy like myself, being stuck in an industry fueled by cocaine, lust, and posturing facilitated the beginning of an escalating internal crisis. Despite my good looks, confident posture, and a past which might cause one to think I had experienced many sexual partners, the truth is I hadn’t. And despite my willingness to take shots with coworkers and patrons, and the fact that I was never seen without a joint in my hand, I didn’t like to party either. I felt like an imposter, an actor performing beneath the bright lights of the main stage, only with a little more bass in the background.

This discomfort and awkwardness, though I didn’t realize it at the time, began to start picking at something locked away deep within my subconscious. Many nights, I’d be at work and one of the cocktail waitresses would come behind the bar for whatever reason. She would walk in front of me and bend down to grab something out of my well, making a point to let her perfectly shaped behind ever so slightly brush up against my crotch or my thigh. She was beautiful, 22 or 23 and she had this long perfectly straight brunette hair which came to a rest in the small of her back right in between the two dimples revealed by the low cut shirts mandated by the clubs uniform policy. I distinctly remember the whiff of coconut I would get every time she would pass me. She was a goddess. She would do this, and I would immediately grab a joint I had rolled before my shift and walk out back. As the weed burned, and as I would watch the smoke rolling around my fingers as if trying to lead me somewhere by the hand, I would force the thoughts of texting the number she had given me, much less the thoughts of grabbing her by the waist the next time she did this, right out of my mind.

Another night, I was walking through the club’s VIP lounge making sure Lil Jon and his entourage had everything they needed before he performed his set. Already incredibly stoned (again, a baseline for me) I was delighted when one of Lil Jon’s managers sparked a blunt and motioned invitingly for me to join. While recharging my buzz, I could see one of the gogo dancers who had previously told me her excitement to see Lil Jon DJ peering through one of the outer windows. I asked the manager, who’s name i forget, if he has a problem with me letting her in to meet Lil Jon quickly before the set and he politely obliged. I walked up and got her, and brought her back to meet the manager who promptly walked her over to meet her favorite DJ. After walking her back out and returning to the floor to check on the main bar, it was time to go spark another joint in my office and try to put the 5’2 blonde Gogo-dancing firecracker out of my mind. After closing that night, I was sitting on the outside balcony on the second floor of the club smoking another joint while waiting for my bartenders to finish closing out their drawers and cleaning their stations. I had leaned back staring at the stars and just about as soon as I had shut my eyes, just for a second, I felt someone sit right next to me and felt the joint burning between my fingers plucked right out of them. Startled, I opened my eyes and there she was. I must have looked somewhat bewildered because I remember it made her laugh while she was mid-toke which then made her cough. Even her cough was adorable. “Thanks for getting me back there to meet Lil Jon tonight!”, she said playfully. “That is probably the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me, and you didn’t have to”. “No problem” I said, “now can I get that joint back? James will kill me if he finds out I’m getting high with the staff”. She just chuckled and hit the joint again before passing it back. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t”. She shifted herself on the couch we were sitting on, leaned over and embraced me in a close hug, kissed my cheek, and asked in my ear if I wanted to come hang out at her apartment after we left. I don‘t remember what excuse I gave her, but as the weed smoke rolled out of the windows of my truck as a drove home, I imaged all of the different pleasures I might be experiencing had I been a different person. If I was the guy that accepted her invite, instead of the guy getting high and driving home.

You see, as I mentioned earlier I was brought up rather conservatively. Sex was never something talked about in my house, and any mention of it brought discomfort upon the entire household. I was brought up to believe that sex was an act restricted to committed couples married, or very seriously close to marriage. I was raised to believe that casual or meaningless sex was morally reprehensible and a short path to disease and disgrace. I was not a virgin, but for someone who had been in the military, worked in bars and nightclubs, and who was generally liked by women, I had only ever had a few. Each of them caused a great deal of guilt, and the sex was never anything apart from your basic short-lived missionary-positioned white-guy sex with girls I was dating at the time.

So when I went home to finish school and was back in my parents house, lets just say any romantic thoughts or endeavors went to the back burner and, four abstinent years later here I was. I had graduated and moved back out on my own, new career field, now apartment, all of it. I had resisted every pass made at me by every college girl intrigued by my being slightly older, tattooed, and former military. I was in my late twenties at this point and it just seemed wrong of me to even entertain the idea of hooking up with these 19-22 year old girls, despite their perfect bodies and young enthusiasm. However something had changed in me. I found myself no longer able to completely suppress these thoughts and fantasies. I still would never act on any of them, its just that I could no longer force them completely from my mind. All of this would change last weekend when I made a decision that I still cannot believe I made. While smoking a joint one night, one of my friends convinced me to download Tinder, an app I had been on a tirade against for nearly half of a decade. I would claim it was cheating, sleazy, for people to scared to approach someone in real life. Yet the combination of weed, hormones, and a friend’s taunting found me installing the application on my iPhone and allowing him to post pictures from my gallery to my profile and to start swiping.

It wasn’t long before matches started popping up, and after he left I found myself scrolling through them out of curiosity. Of course I would never actually message any of these girls. I eventually came across a match who was stunning. Perfect figure, the kind of ass that is thick and shapely but not huge. Her jeans may have well been tattooed on, and her eyes were mesmerizing. She had sent me a message that said nothing but “hey” with a winky face. I still, sitting here now, cannot tell you what made me decide to reply but I did. “Hey”, different winky face. This ended up leading to a conversation which lasted a few hours which shocked me. Here I am having a conversation with a complete stranger. While strange and weird feeling, I slowly became more comfortable until around 11pm when she asked me to come over. My balls jumped all the way up into my stomach and my heart started pounding. God damn she was so sexy, but I’m not the guy. My anxiety became all consuming, and the thought of leaving the safety and comfort of my apartment seemed unbearable. Even if I did go, I thought, It has been literally years since I’ve had sex. What if its a catfish? What if I ejaculate early? What if I can’t get it up? what if she sees how much of an inexperienced prude I am and decides to ✌️? No I can’t do it. I can’t risk it. I texted her that I had been smoking, was stoned, and therefore shouldn’t drive, assuming this would get me off the hook. It didn’t. “Where do you live? I haven’t smoked today and I’d like to. I can come to you…” she responded. Something came over me, as if I myself didn’t even have control over my own actions, and simply said ”ok” and sent her my address.

I was a nervous wreck and immediately regretted my decision. However, I had already passed the point of no return and she was on the way. Quick shower. Brush my teeth. Fuck, did I brush good enough? Re-brush my teeth. Take off sweatpants, put on jeans. Light a joint, calm down, light another joint. Mouthwash. I feel like I’m going to pass out. After another 20 minutes of self-torture or so my phone rings. It’s her. I need to let her in the gate and guide her to my apartment. My voice cracked which I tried to mask as a weed cough. The next thing I knew, there she was standing in the driveway in front of my units attached garage. “Come in” i said shyly.

Upstairs, I made a point to sit in the chair separate from the couch to ensure enough space so as to not increase my own anxiety or appear in anyway presumptuous. Its as if she sensed exactly what I was going through, the way she kept talking, making jokes, never breaking eye contact. They way she stared at me, it was like a beam of energy was streaming from each eyeball straight through me. I felt as if she could read my mind, and was somehow seeing all of that which we normally keep locked away behind the walled compound which is our mind. She asked if I was into scary movies (which I am) and so I put one on. She then took it upon herself to kill the lights. The way she leaned over the side of the couch to hit the lamp revealed tattooed wisteria vines creeping up from beneath her jean shorts toward the small of her back and the shadows cast by the tv’s light bounced seductively along her spine. I was frozen and didn’t know what to do or say. I sat there silently and awkwardly and kept my eyes glued to the screen. I sat there embarrassed that there was an in the flesh fantasy sitting two feet away from me, on my couch, and that I was in my chair and couldn’t look at her. I sat there in shame.

After about half an hour or so, the movie came to a particularly gruesome scene which I must confess even had me a little spooked. In a similar manner to the gogo dancer from the club, when I was least expecting it my peripheral vision caught motion and the next thing experienced was my large fur blanket being lifted up from on top of me and the feel over her legs, together and now angled towards me, resting over mine. The blanket rested back down once again though this time it was over both of us. I had an instant erection which only added stress to the situation. I had to hide it. Somebody please fucking kill me. Fuck! I felt her one of her hands run along my shoulder, down my arm, her nails slightly scratching me along the way, and down to my hand which she grabbed. She twisted her fingers into mine. “Your hands are sweating” she said with a laugh. “You nervous?”. Fuck she knows. What do I say? Fuck. “A little“ I said. “I don’t normally…”. “I can tell she said”. “Shut up”. She pressed her top log all the way over my lap and in seemingly in one motion she was now straddling me and staring straight into my eyes. She took both of my hands and moved them to the small of her back right behind her hips, leaned in, put each one of her hands on either side of my jawline and kissed me. It was so light and gentle I almost couldn’t even feel it. She leaned back with a grin from ear to ear. “Still nervous” she asked? “More” I said. She laughed and leaned back in but instead of kissing me (which is what i thought she was going for) she pressed her face beyond mine and began kissing my neck, and my earlobe, and this time she began rocking her hips back and forth slowly, but deliberately. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my neck. I felt the inside of her lips meet the part of my neck that becomes jaw and something snapped in me. I no longer felt nervous or scared, or ashamed. It felt like there was a lion awakening within me which is a sensation i had never known. I reached over her and slowly lifted her shirt off to reveal her perfectly formed breasts providing the stage for the most magnificent performance of shadows and light dancing together harmoniously. I leaned forward and very gently began to use my tongue to play with her areolas. As my friends would say, I had a mouth full of tit which I had never done before but always imagined. As I tenderly suckled her nipples and ran my hands up and down her back and perfect bubble-butt which continued its back and forth grind, I began to have almost an out of body experience. I was floating above myself when I watched her with one hand somehow unbutton my jeans and take my whole shaft into her grasp. There was already quite a bit of pre-cum by this point but she didn’t say anything. She began slowly stroking up and down, firm pressure but still gentle, and used her thumb in little circular motions to smear the pre-cum all over the tip of my now fully erect member.

Suddenly, without saying a word she stood up, dropped her shorts and immediately and much more aggressively resumed her position upon my lap. Without even removing her panties or bothering to allow me the time to remove my jeans, she somehow slid a condom over me without me even realizing it, pulled her panties to the side, grabbed my dick from the very base and sat, allowing herself to slowly slide all the way down. I don’t think she had even made it half way down before I came. I could feel her stretching over me as she lowered herself. God damn I never imagined a vagina could be so tight. And warm. She was so wet I could feel her secretions, warm, all over my lap. Though I came, and though she could definitely tell, she just began rocking back and forth again as if nothing had happened. My erection did not go away, nor did it lose any rigidity. What in the fuck is happening to me right now? Who am I? After a few minutes (or more, I dont remember) of sex in the chair she stood up, grabbed me by the hand and led me to the couch. Like I said, I was out of my body and I watched myself push her down, stomach first, and lay down on top of her. I had never had sex in any way but missionary before, and now I was seeing myself enter her from behind. I had my hand under the front side of her neck and her back was arched all the way back. I could now see all of the tattooed flowers which caressed her buttocks and her waist and her back and they were dancing as my thrusts jiggled her ass cheeks. She moaned. “Oh my god babe you feel so fucking good”. ”It feels so good inside of me”. “Please don‘t stop”. She turned around to face me and pulled me back inside of her, wrapping her ankles together behind the small of my back and using her legs to pull me in closer and lock me in place so that I could not pull out of her. I just kept thrusting slowly and pressing myself as deeply into her as I could. Every time I would push it all the way in she would lift her hips to meet mine and somehow grand from her back. I felt the muscles inside her Vagina grabbing my shaft, and pulsating, and vibrating, and trapping the tip of my dick just inside of her. I was coming close to reaching another climax when she released her legs, pushed me off her and backwards, grabbed my dick once again and began giving me the first blowjob I had ever had. It was slow at first, and she was using her hand to stroke me at the same time, and then it sped up and became much more intense and much more slobbery. ”Fuck, stop! I am going to cum again”, I told her as I panted and groaned. I tried to pull myself out of her mouth however she grabbed each one of my ass cheeks in a death grip and wouldn’t let me. I really was trying and she really wouldn’t let me. Fuck. I exploded. It was the biggest and most intense orgasm of my life, and I could feel an incredible amount of semen leaving my body. She kept sucking and wouldn’t release her grip. The sensation was overwhelming and I was shaking and twitching as I tried to maintain ahold of my composure. I could feel her swallowing and each time she would swallow it would cause her tongue to slide ever so slightly back upwards along my shaft only intensifying and prolonging the orgasm.

The craziest part of all of this is that afterward, she smiled and got dressed. She walked over and kissed me as I was fishing around for a lighter to spark my joint. “I have to go, I have work in the morning”. “Really, already“ I asked? She gave me a slight chuckle and another kiss, grabbed her bag and let herself out the door while I just stood there naked, and having forgotten the burning joint in my hand. I haven’t seen or heard from her since.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/f1dj1o/who_am_i