Fucking a Sexy Stranger in NZ [FM]

**How We Met**

I caught the attention of an extremely attractive guy at a bar in Queenstown, New Zealand that served Long Island iced teas out of tea pots. He looked like an Abercrombie & Fitch model with his tall, athletic physique, dark spiky hair, preppy polo, perfect bone structure, and sensual lips.

It was my first time out of the U.S. by myself (I joined a tour for 20 somethings once I landed in NZ), and I had no idea that my country’s version of dancing was considered risque in other cultures. There I was, doing my thing, when this group of guys congregated around me like I was some kind of one-woman-show. I saw Mr. tall, dark, and handsome in the gang of spectators, brought him off the dance floor and over to a table, shamelessly flirted for a bit, then asked him if he wanted to take a walk.

As we strolled down the sidewalk, I could hear his British accent. He told me he was a U.K. rugby player on vacation with his team. I didn’t catch his name because I’m terrible that way and was also very drunk, so let’s call him Hottie. Hottie told me he liked American girls because they have nice teeth and this made me laugh. We eventually made our way over to this little park area where my tour took a group shot earlier that day and we proceeded to aggressively make out on a picnic table.

There I was, straddling this jocky hunk, as he slipped his hands through my jeans and grabbed my ass. He told me I had a nice “fanny,” another strange comment that made me laugh, and then it hit me… “We are moving very fast, and this guy could kill me. I don’t really *know* this person. What if I tell him I want to stop and he gets mad? Better to go through with it I suppose.”

Yes, I should have thought of that before, and trust me, I never did anything like that again. I had drunken logic, and I bet most guys never have one night stands and worry about their safety. Luckily, Hottie was a good guy, so back to the story.

**Sex in the Bushes**

Hottie continued grabbing my ass, and I could tell by his touch, passionate kisses, and delicious little grunts of satisfaction that he was savoring the moment. I was still kind of afraid, which in hindsight was kind of a turn on, and I asked him if he had a condom because I was too scared to not give him what he wanted. Let’s face it, I’m glad I asked.

Hottie said, “I do” in an extremely low, velvety voice that showcased his primal hunger. Oh, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about the way he delivered those words. It wasn’t *him* talking. It was some base animal, his id.

The park was kind of sparse, so I led him over to some giant fern-like vegetation and a couple of trees (New Zealand’s plants are so strange but awesome lol). We got into a standing doggy-style position, and as he slid himself into me, I could feel that familiar sensation in my inner core mounting–the kind of feeling that’s instantly summoned by a big dick.

Grateful for my well-endowed partner, I allowed myself to be taken with pleasure. His thrusts started knocking me off balance, so I grabbed one of those weird fern/palm tree-like plants, but the branches were too flimsy and kept breaking in my hand. Hottie kept thrusting at a consistent pace and I couldn’t find anything sturdy to hold on to, so I kept losing my footing. I found this incredibly hot. He was literally fucking me off my balance and there was nothing I could do about it.

Eventually, I had to insist that we move to the floor, and I got on all fours in the dirt, staining the knee parts of my jeans. Hottie moved faster, making me cum hard, and I yelled, ” Oh, yes. Oh, yes. You feel so fucking good. I’m going to fucking cum ” and some other things. He kept thrusting through all of this, and a few minutes later, he did the most British thing imaginable: Hottie apologized for not coming soon after me and told me he had a hard time cumming when he drank. Is there anything a British person won’t apologize for? Lol. It’s so adorable though.

Being the word-slinging sexual deviant that I am, I happen to delight in dirty talk and told him I’d take care of him. As he pounded me from behind, I said all sorts of things–and meant them. “Oh, your dick is so perfect. You’re amazing. You’re going to make me cum again…” It wasn’t long before Hottie was moaning uncontrollably behind me, and the sounds of his rapture were music to my ears. I absolutely love the sound of a man orgasming, and Hottie’s noises were exceptionally beautiful.

Once he collected himself, we dusted ourselves off, pulled up our clothes and walked toward the street. It was incredibly awkward, and we made small talk about meeting each other at the same bar we first met at the following night. He then went his way and I went mine, and I never went back to the bar. My tour group left early in the morning.

Sometimes, I wonder if he went to the bar. But a part of me is glad that I didn’t. I think our little tryst was perfect the way it was, and I hope he enjoys reflecting on it as much as I do. Maybe he’ll read this, who knows. lol Other than my naughty memory, all I have is a picture of the two of us sitting at the bar, and I can’t look at the tour group picture in the park without smirking.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/folaux/fucking_a_sexy_stranger_in_nz_fm