*Quick disclaimer: this story involves two consenting adults, but does involve some consensual non-consent play. Don’t read on if that’s not a good thing for you to read.*
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*Also, quick intro note: I’m a handsome, vaguely articulate, well-educated and generally successful 38 year-old, pervert. I have a long history of dirtiness, and there’s something about the year and a half of basic confinement that has had me reminiscing about my past and some of my hottest experiences. I’ve decided I’m going to start chronicling them here, to keep them from disappearing altogether. Let me know if they’re enjoyable and feel free to say hello. I like penpals.*
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This is another story about [Julia](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/lohn7k/mf_perfect_strangers_in_a_movie_theater/).
We fucked off and on for a decade or so. Not regularly, but we’d find our way to each other at least a few times a year. It always started with an email from Julia that would simply say “hi”.
In that time, we never spoke much about our lives and circumstances; a few times maybe, but never in any detail. One or the other of us might allude to a relationship, but only in as much as it created challenges in our getting together. What little we learned about each other was purely functional, to explain specific scheduling needs, to ask the other to make sure to delete emails, or to bring cash for the hotel room. I think we both just wanted the other to exist in a context that felt divorced from our lives. So we could be an escape for each other, somebody to retreat to that didn’t quite feel real because they only existed for us in an anonymous hotel room and never for more than a few hours. Or at least, that’s how I felt, so I’m projecting it onto Julia, too.
We mostly met in hotel rooms. We’d email a bit before hand, usually to arrange a specific scene, meet, cum together a few times, and then retreat back to our lives. It was uncomplicated and nice. It was also oddly intimate. I would have trusted Julia with just about anything.
At one point, I just stopped hearing from her for a stretch of about 18 months. I assumed she’d gotten married, or that she was married, and had had a kid or something. That her actual life got big enough that it couldn’t be ignored for a few hours here and there. I was sort of happy for her.
And then one night, at 6pm or so, after a particularly long day at work I was on the F train when she stepped onto my car at Delancey Street. I know it’s cliche to say I did a double take, but the truth is I had a lot of difficulty recognizing her. I’d never seen her in the world, save for a brief walk we took in the dark the first night we met. The world suited her well — that train ride is the sexiest she ever was to me. She’d dyed her hair since I’d seen her last, and it was much darker than usual, almost black, and combined with her black wool coat and dark, pensive eyes she looked just like the sort of woman I’d see on the train and want to fuck. Except, I already fucked her.
Somehow it felt like we were breaking the fourth wall, crossing a boundary, so I decided to not say hello. Instead, I just watched her intently, waiting for her to notice me. It took a couple of stops. When she did, I watched something in her eyes change; she’d been reading a book, but looking up distractedly regularly, scanning the car lost in thought. When her eyes hit mine, I watched the moment of recognition, the surprise, and then I watched her demeanor shift ever so slightly. I noticed a look in her eye that I suspect only I may know. I noted her breath shorten. I noticed her scan the car again, this time with purpose, looking for people she might know.
I was standing by the door, and at the next stop Julia gave up her seat and casually strolled towards me, but didn’t acknowledge me. I understood immediately. We were just strangers on the train. The car was crowded at rush hour, so Julia was able to subtly press herself against me without it being unusual or obvious. We rode like that for another couple of stops, until we got to Carrol Street. The doors opened and Julia looked me in the eyes and without her saying a word, I knew to follow her.
She climbed the stairs of the station and exited about 30 feet ahead of me. The station was crowded, people were filing out slowly, but every now and again she’d give a quick glance. It felt like each one was a breadcrumb. I would have followed her anywhere. She walked west, staying ahead of me, walking fast enough to send a clear signal that she didn’t want me to catch up to her yet, but glancing back often enough that I knew I was invited to follow. It was winter and dark. I kept expecting her to climb one of the stoops, to lead me into her apartment. But she never did, and next thing I knew we were crossing over the BQE and all the way to Colombia Street.
For those that don’t know, it gets much more sparsely populated by the waterfront. Back then, some new restaurants had just popped up, and even as popular as they were, that stretch of Brooklyn was desolate and the entire west side of the street was desolate, mostly abandoned lots adjacent to the docs.
On Julia’s right, there was a construction site, walled off by plywood fencing, but at one point, the plywood had fallen and there was a three or four foot gap in the fencing. Julia looked back at me and ducked into the lot. I followed. Inside she’d walked over towards the north side of the lot, and was standing against a red brick wall. It was private, but not fully so. There was nothing blocking us to the south. Car headlights turning hit the wall only a few feet to our left. I walked towards her and went to press myself to her, leaning in to grab her head. She said “No!” loudly and shoved me away. I stood there shocked for a second, and looked at her. She looked at me, the same inviting look in her eye as before, and said only “Fuck me no matter what I say or do.”
This time, I pressed myself against her with more force, pinning her to the wall. She tried to shove her way free, but I was able to easily overpower her 135 pound frame and hold her still. I took a fistful of her hair in my right hand and twisted, turning her face up towards mine, wrapping her hair tightly around my fist so that moving her head in any direction would be painful. I leaned in and kissed her aggressively, forcing my tongue into her mouth. She moaned, but fought slightly. I pulled her head back so she was forced to look me in the eyes. She spit on my face.
“You little fucking slut.” I was surprised enough by her, that I’m sure some real anger slipped through. I pressed against her, pressing my hard cock against her so forcefully that I was able to hold her in place against the wall with just my body weight, and free my hands. Without thinking, I ripped open her jacket, ripping away several buttons. Underneath, Julia was wearing a white wool sweater, which I immediately ran my hand up, roughly groping her full, right breast. It was cold and her nipple was as hard as I’d ever felt it. She tried to turn away and managed to take a few steps away from me, but I pulled her back towards me with my right arm. The result was that she’d turned herself away from me, and was now pressed face first against the wall. I leaned in against her ear and whispered “I’m going to fuck you now.” She moaned. With one hand I yanked down her tights and panties in one motion. With the other, I unbuckled my pants. She wasn’t fighting anymore, and had arched her back slightly, her hands pressed against the wall, her pussy waiting for me. All at once I slid myself inside of her. She was drenched and I slid in easily. I whispered in her ear, making sure she knew what a perfect little whore she was, pressing her against the wall in that abandoned lot, until I filled her with cum. We were there for no more than 5 minutes. Without a word I put my cock away, buttoned my pants, and turned and walked back the way I’d came. I walked across the block, just far enough that she couldn’t see me, and stopped and waited. I watched her leave the lot, crossing under a street light, a huge smile on her face. When she got closer and saw me, she said “I’m so glad we ran into each other tonight.”
We held hands and I walked her back to her apartment. We kissed goodbye at the end of the block and she said “we can’t walk down this block together.” I understood. I looked at her one last time. She said “I can feel your cum dripping out of my pussy; I think this was my favorite time yet.”
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ovedm9/mf_what_happened_when_i_followed_julia_off_of_the