[MF] Mourning sex

After college, a close friend hit a rough patch, and ended up committing suicide.

As one of the high school friends that stayed local, I had to contact everyone in our circle. I also hosted most people for the nights they were in town. The whole thing is a blur of airport trips, heavy drinking, the funereal, and a crazy party to celebrate his life.

Most people left the day after the services, or spent a day with their families. Only Sara stayed an extra night at my house, before her flight home.

We had been in high school band together, and then fooled around a few times over school breaks, but never slept together. Being exhausted from the past 3 days, we just stayed on the couch to watch movies. Pizza and wine were the menu of the night.

About halfway through our second bottle, we started to have the emotional conversations about our friend. She felt bad about not being around, and maybe she could have helped. I comforted her.

We had a long hug as she stopped crying, and her sobs turned into a deep breath. She then said that she would always be there for me, whatever I needed, whenever. I said the same to her.

In the moment after we made these statements, we were close to each other, hands holding, and eyes locked. Having the same thought, we leaned in and started kissing.

From there, it was fast. The make out was rough and sloppy. We tore off our clothes as I pushed her back on the couch. We didn’t say anything. My hands were all over her. She was skinny, with visible hip bones, but massive breasts for her frame. My lips closed on her pale pink nipples, and she moaned.

One hand rubbed her pussy, sliding a middle finger in. She was wet, and extremely tight. I removed my finger and started wiping the head of my cock on her lips. Our eyes met, and she just bit her bottom lip and nodded.

I pressed in, but she was too tight and not relaxed enough. Another push did nothing, so I backed up and went down on her. I slobbered all over her shaved mound, breathing in her scent, and using two fingers to stretch her out.

I re-positioned myself, spit on my hand and stroked my cock before pushing in to her. She was still tight, but I managed to get the first few inches in. She moaned and pulled me close, and I felt her relax, allowing me to go all the way in.

“Oh God, you fill me.”

Not being able to pull out much, I just did shallow thrusts, using all my body weight. Our positioning on the couch tilted her pelvis, and I could feel a slightly different sensation, with my the head of my cock hitting the front of the vaginal wall.

The sex was fast and passionate. Our mouths covering each other, her bites on my shoulder, my hand in her hair pulling her head back.

“I’m so close, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

I kept the pace, not wanting to change a thing. Our breathing quickened, and there was a film of sweat between our bodies.

“I’m cumming. Cum with me. Oh god.”

I thrust furiously, being close to climax myself, and was quickly there. Her vaginal muscles were clamping, and I had the most intense orgasm, filling her with my cum.

I laid on top of her for a minute, both of us in silence, processing what just happened. I rolled next to her on the couch, playing with her hair and dragging my finger tips on her body.

We talked a bit more, discussing our friendship, our wish to have done this sooner, and the bittersweet fact that we lived 1000 miles apart.

We fell asleep for an hour, but got up to go to bed. She decided to shower, and I came up behind her at the sink as she was brushing her hair afterwards.

I kissed the back of her neck, and her shoulders, and pulled the towel off. She turned around, and now our kisses were passionate with emotion, not just desire.

I held her close, and picked her up on the counter. My pulled down my boxers, and pushed into her again. This time, we maintained eye contact, and she kept telling me how I made her feel full, and whole, and loved. Again, I managed to cum with her.

The next day, she changed her flight for one more night, and we rarely left the bedroom. Our mouths and hands explored each other’s bodies, and the sex was different than anything I had. The pure emotional connection between us changed everything.

She later returned home, and we stayed in contact, but life got in the way. We met up a few times more, but it was different. We were just really good friends again, and the sex didn’t have the same spark.

We are still close friends, and have since married other people. We would text each other after Wedding Crashers, when Will Ferrell used funereals to pick-up women. The emotion makes the sex crazy good.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/66d8u4/mf_mourning_sex