As someone who’s been there, I suggest you tread carefully when it comes to maintaining a long-distance relationship with your significant other. In my experience, the most important aspects of a healthy relationship erode over time as distance extends . . . except for the sex.
My friends, this is a story about the sex.
Sarah and I met through mutual friends just as we were about to both graduate college. Although we felt a very strong attraction, we had both resolved to move to different post-graduate cities. This left us with daily phone calls—wherein we mostly argued—and weekend-long visits.
At first, there weren’t any red flags: Sarah and I had a great relationship when we were together in-person often, and we thought the physical attraction would bridge the long-distance gaps. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad plan from my perspective: Sarah had a thirst for sex and a body round, soft, and tight in all the right places. Moreover, she really knew how to use it, not only for her own pleasure, but for mine as well.
Once our face-to-face time was reduced to weekends, passionate fucking was just about all we could manage to do during our visits. While not a great sign for our overall relationship, our attempts at talking and catching up with one another always soon turned into us making out and pulled each other’s clothes off.
On those weekends, our visits typically involved us fucking, napping, and then fucking again: I think our record was three times in an afternoon. To accommodate what we knew would give each of us the most pleasure, we always fucked with me on top first. This allowed Sarah to rub her clit while I slowly thrust in and out of her, often gyrating my hips in a circular motion, which Sarah enjoyed and which helped me to keep from bursting for as long as I could. Still, holding out was no easy feat, as Sarah’s tight slit, sexy body, and moans always had me on the edge. Sarah moans and dirty talk were often the greatest challenge while edging: as soon as we’d get a good rhythm going, Sarah would turn encyclopedic with her dirty talk: moaning in my ear how good my dick felt inside her, how much she couldn’t wait for me to cum in her, and how much she wanted to cum herself and soak my dick with her juices.
Luckily for me, the combination of me thrusting inside her and her rubbing her clit usually did the trick for Sarah pretty quickly, and in no time she’d be shouting that she was about to cum, and that she wanted me to cum inside her while she did. This tended to be easy to do, and we got good at timing our orgasms so that I’d be pumping my load inside her just as her spasms began to milk my dick.
We’d usually doze off for a bit after that, but after a much-needed break, we’d wake up and Sarah would soon have my dick hard again. Once I’d returned the favor and again got her fully aroused and wet, Sarah would climb on top of me and lower herself onto me. Then in control of everything, Sarah would go crazy, pumping up and down at various speeds, grinding her lips and ass against me as she pushed me deeper and deeper inside her, all the while moaning loudly how much she was enjoying herself and how much she again wanted me to blow my load inside her. Once, she was banging up and down so hard that she soaked my thighs with her dripping wetness.
Because those sessions with Sarah on top were the second of the day, the duration depended entirely on my ability to hold out. I tended to fair slightly better then those first sessions on top of her, but I still found it amazingly hard to hold out for long: Sarah’s body, skills, and passionate demands that I cum deep inside her still proved too much to handle for too long.
Over the two (or so years) we dated, Sarah’s apartment was our main home base of operation. Of course, we still had to be mindful (and respectful) of her roommate.
We made it work; I remember at least one occasion where—after an evening out—we returned to Sarah’s apartment and fucked somewhat “on the sly” in the living room when we knew her roommate was also home. Since we didn’t want to take the chance of being caught completely naked, I remember sitting on the floor while Sarah rode me as quietly as possible (achieved by me pulling down my pants just enough to free my hard dick and Sarah pulling her panties aside just enough underneath her dress). How we got away with this I don’t really know (especially since I think we left a stain or two on the carpet), but we fucked like that many times, and I never questioned it.
On occasions where we knew we’d be alone for a while at her apartment, we generally didn’t hesitate to do anything we wanted, including loudly fucking and sucking in her bed at
an (arguably obnoxious) volume but also with a remarkably sexy intensity. On one of those occasions, we tried taking a shower together. The shower turned out to be too small for anything to really happen, but we still had fun lathering each other’s bodies, stroking and fondling each other under the warm water. I remember making our way back to Sarah’s room from the shower, continuing to grope each other and make out the whole way. Honestly, I thought at one point that we’d end up just fucking in the hallway, given how turned on and ready we both were. We ended up back in her room and fucked in her bed, our still-wet bodies pressed hard together.
Sarah and I dated for about two years, and we never stopped enjoying each other’s bodies (even when that’s all we had in common toward the end). I can still vaguely remember some of the sexy outfits Sarah would wear to see how turned on she could get me, including tight-fitting dresses and t-shirts, as well as sexy underwear she’d expose after an impromptu strip show.
While I remember little else from our time together, those memories are more than enough.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/hbtxhb/mf_the_challenges_and_opportunities_of_a