Coming Back [PART 2] – How I learned that sex can make you happy [MF]

*Start at Part 1 – the context is what makes this whole story meaningful.* [https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/voknqa/coming_back_how_i_learned_that_sex_can_make_you/](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/voknqa/coming_back_how_i_learned_that_sex_can_make_you/)

*There were so many kind and caring comments on part 1.* ***Thank you. All of you.*** *After it went up the positive comments often outnumbered the upvotes. Even accounting for Reddit’s stat lag, it still suggests that for those of you who liked the story, you did because it was really meaningful to you, not just something fun to read.*

*And a reminder in case it wasn’t clear already that this story is a bit deep and not for everyone. It’s not your typical carefree display of libido for light reading. It’s a bit heavier, but I think you’ll agree, worth the weight.*

And on that topic, remember how I said that sex with my ex was a psychological clusterfuck? Yeah.. the reasons were… so much worse than I’d described last time. There’s this concept in storytelling that the darkness gets the greatest just before the dawn. It has to be that way or dawn would just be another sunrise. The shadow is what gives shape to the light.

Which is why the sweetness and beauty that Ana brought is only truly visible when you understand the shape of the life that she entered. Her strength is more clear when you understand whose hand she held. And while she didn’t know *all* the details I’m about to share, she did understand me extremely well by then, better by far than I understood myself.

So allow me one more moment to show you the deeper half of where this came from, the darker part before the dawn.

There were a whole series of reasons that combined to mean I could never last more than a couple of minutes in bed with my ex (evolution and reproduction have an abusive relationship, apparently). But her words made things infinitely worse. She frequently told me that I only wanted her for sex, for my own physical gratification. She said I made her feel like a prostitute in her own bed. She said that I saw her as a disposable object to make myself ejaculate, for my own sick bodily pleasure, which she explained that I did as quickly as possible so that I didn’t have to be around her.

Most importantly, she explained that my inability to last was physical proof of my selfishness, of my own horrible gratification at her expense. And that detail ate at me. Was I actually, at some unconscious level, as selfish an animal as she described? It kept me awake. It made me hate myself and my body. While I knew I didn’t think of her the way she explained, I assumed that my body must on its own. There had to be at least SOME truth in there. And as much as I hated sex, presumably I must unconsciously enjoy having an orgasm at least on SOME basic level, even if just in an unconscious way that I couldn’t feel.

That thought churned in me. Just the idea of experiencing physical pleasure at the expense of another person made me feel sick. How could that be me? But the way she described it convinced me. She cried real tears and called it rape, and I believed her. So when she made me have sex with her, there was no pleasure in the sensation, no enjoyment. Just fear of making things worse combined with my hopeless desperation to please her and make up for the disappointment that I was. And when I came there was no warmth or calm, all I felt was embarrassment and disgust at the thing my body had done. I apologized every single time. No exceptions. Sex always made me feel awful. This created a major point of conflict for over 17 years, the fact that I never asked for sex made her feel unwanted, she said, as if I considered myself too good for her. And I *tried so hard* to want it, but I was so frightened. Sex showed me that I was broken. And she drank up my inferiority, it refilled something that she had burned away inside herself. It proved that she was better than me in every way, down to the very soul. And once I was broken, she’d tell me to leave so that she could cum. I felt awful. Sex always made me feel awful.

By the time I met Ana I had spent years working through this with some amazing therapists. I learned this hadn’t been normal, that real relationships don’t work like that, that sex doesn’t work like that. I learned, at least in an abstract way, that sex is supposed to be enjoyed. I couldn’t remember it, but I could at least believe it. And I hoped to experience it some day. So by the time I met Ana I thought I might be ready, but how would I know? That history was just so heavy, so hard to ignore, so far from the real world.

So as we walked up the stairs, my whole soul was exposed. Hopeful, and yet so fragile. Not only did I have no idea what would happen, I didn’t even know what was normal. Only vague memories from decades ago.

The experience downstairs with Ana took the edge off my worry and gave me comfort, it showed me that good things were possible. She was the one who had made the first move downstairs on the couch; she had told me to close my eyes, saying that she wanted to show me something. No peeking! Then she had taken off my pants and licked and sucked me like a popsicle, grinning and giggling like we were 18 and stupid. Then, as I explained last time, she let me give her oral. I sucked on her clit and explored her with my tongue, thoroughly enjoying myself. And she came! She came hard, and she loved it. And I was a part of it. I had made her glow with satisfaction. And she *wanted* me to be part of it. This was the greatest thing in the world.

So when we climbed the stairs I was feeling hopeful even though I could feel my stomach fluttering. We’d already had many dates and plenty of talk; we knew each other’s stories and situations. But she also knew my fears and insecurities. I was naked in every sense that mattered long before she took my clothes off.

She laid on the bed, and I sat by her side, tracing lines with my fingertips across her breasts, up to her neck, and back down again across her stomach, then down her inner thighs, grazing her pussy lips ever so slightly. Then again with both hands, kisses on her navel, nibbling her nipples, rubbing the outside of her pussy up and down. Then I’m lying on my side next to her, rubbing circles around her clit, looking into her stormy gray eyes, beautiful deep eyes, as she smiles comfortably up at me. And we kiss, deep and longingly. And this might sound odd; this was just her little thing: I licked the roof of her mouth as we kissed, a trick she’d taught me that turns her on like a light switch.

Usually when I did that, she’d get uncontrollably horny, literally pin me to any convenient surface, stick her tongue down my throat, and start grinding herself against me through our clothes like she was trying to poke a hole in her jeans. But I got ahead of her this time. This time I slipped two fingers inside her pussy at that moment. A quick intake of breath as she lifted her pelvis and pressed her clit against my palm. On her exhale she moaned heavily into my mouth and then opened her eyes wide, sudden realization that she just yelled down my throat. I laugh, she laughs, this couldn’t have been better. I lick her lips and dive back in.

While my fingertips explore her insides, my palm keeps up gentle rhythmic pressure against her entire pussy, her breath and moans in time with the pressure. Inside her my fingers are guided only by vague memories from decades ago, but the feeling is familiar and comforting. There under my fingertips are those ridges and folds I seem to remember from so long ago. Perhaps all girls have those then? So that would mean, if my memory serves… I massage those ridges inside her gently as a warm up.. and then firmly, quite firmly. Her eyes light up; it seems to be working. The pressure of my fingertips pushes up in time with the rocking motion of my palm on her clit, and the kisses on her lips, and the sucking on her tongue. All together in a waving, pulsing rhythm. A minute later she gasps. “Oh god oh god oh fuck, oh… FUUUCK.” Her legs tense and she arches her back. I massage her tenderly and watch her eyes glow wide for a moment, and then she squeezes them closed as she cums in my hands. “Unhhh! …. ooooh…. oh. God. Fuck. Fuuuuck… ME! Oh…. Wow.”

“That was quick!” I say, quite pleased with myself. Well, pleased with BOTH of us to tell the truth.

“Holy shit!” she said, “What the fuck did you DO to me!?”

“Well, I THINK I made you cum. Was I right?” I asked.

“Yes!” she said, blushing, “Oh my GOD yes.”

This was new for me. Before my marriage my sexual experiences had been few and relatively innocent. I had seen so few orgasms from girls that I cherished each and every one of them; each was a story in itself. And here Ana came twice in just minutes. I worried this couldn’t be real, except there it was. And she was actually embarrassed by it.

I washed my hands as we took a break, and she looked a bit concerned. “Is it.. too sticky? Should I wash off…?” she asked.

“What? Your…? Oh! No, not at all! I just didn’t want to accidentally give you a yeast infection or UTI or whatever. That would be a dick move.”

“Umm..”

“You didn’t notice? While I was fingering you, a few minutes into it, these other two fingers went right up your asshole.” Her eyebrows rose, apparently she hadn’t noticed. “They were still in there when you came. I wasn’t exactly TRYING to stick them in your ass, but with the angle.. and trying to get these first fingers deep enough inside you, they just kinda.. and of course you didn’t seem to mind…”

“Um.. I.. um.. I guess, wow, and that definitely explains.. I mean.. and you’re right, I certainly didn’t mind at all..” she started, still trying to fit words into her head, “And yeah, I didn’t even notice. It just all felt so good. It was really hard to think about anything at all.”

She paused, her disarming smile returned as she looked into my eyes. She hummed contentedly as she exhaled.

I stepped over to the bed, and she put her arms around my head and kissed me, shifting her butt side to side in a sort of slow, happy wiggle.

“Thank you for thinking about my health like that,” she said, “I don’t think anyone has ever cared like that before.” She absolutely glowed.

I kissed her, my hands on her naked hips, and my ever-conspicuous penis almost poking her in the belly button. Dumb thing does as it pleases, apparently.

“So you didn’t even notice my fingers in your ass, hmm?” I began, “was that because I was also doing something like…”

“NOPE!” She grabbed my hand before I could even touch her. “Not this time!” She grinned ferociously, stifling a giggle, her forehead still pressed against me after breaking the kiss. She held both of my hands in hers between us. “This is NOT fair,” she declared.

“What?”

“I came TWICE now,” she laughed, “And you not at all. You are going to take your fucking turn.” She pushed me gently down to the middle of the bed.

I scooted to make room, and propped myself up on my elbow. She crawled toward me, spread my legs rather forcefully, and knelt between them. She leaned over and kissed me, first quick, then deep, playing absently with my balls as she did. Then she sat back on her heels and bit her lips.

“You,” she said, tapping me on the chest, “just relax. And enjoy.”

She positioned herself just so, then leaned in and kissed me below the belly button, then down, down, down, and for the second time, expertly slurped my dick into her mouth.

She played my body like an instrument she had long ago mastered, every part of me; her fingers everywhere, her mouth all over, pushing and pulling my feelings with skill and grace. It continued for some time, and I loved it. I very much wanted to cum, I could feel it building. She knew what she was doing, and quickly I realized to my surprise that I desperately wanted her to make me cum down her throat, and she was taking us straight in that direction. But I was missing something, and I didn’t want it to end just yet.

“If it’s all the same to you,” I said, “I’d rather cum by fucking you.”

“Oooh kaaayyy,” she says sweetly, her sharp and heavy accent adding a distinct air to her playful banter. “Yes, I suppose that’s allowed.” She flashed a look with her eyes that made it extremely clear that this was something she’d wanted to do for weeks. “How do you want me?” she asked.

“Hmm?” I responded, a bit stupidly.

I later learned that in her native language she avoided any sort of dirty talk for her entire life; she couldn’t even force herself to say the words, even just to translate for me. She never told me how to say even one scandalous word, and blushed at the thought. But in English, though…

“You said you want to fuck me, do you?” she began, the swirling storm in her eyes flashed from sparkling to smoldering. In addition to her accent, she emphasized the word “Fuck” every time she said it, pushing heavy of the “F”, like she was imagining with relish the word being shoved deep into her. “How do you want to FUCK me, Ben?”

She played lovingly with my balls as she talked, then gave my dick a final slurp with her lips, and traced her finger up my chest. “Hmm? Maybe you should fuck me on my back with my legs wrapped around your waist? I’d enjoy that.” She straddled my legs and grabbed my wrists in each of her hands, holding them between us. “Or… do you wanna pull up my ass, grab my hips, and fuck me hard from behind? I definitely want to feel how deep inside me your dick can go.” Then she leaned in and pinned my wrists down by my head and started grinding up against me, dragging her wet pussy up and down my cock a couple of times, coating it with dripping enthusiasm. “Or… do you want me to ride you? I’ll just fuck you myself! Just like this! I’d love to just pin you down, just like this, and fuck you like a toy. And then… when you’re close, I’ll grab your ass and pull you tight and force you to cum inside me.” She bit her lower lip with an aggressive grin. “Really, really deep inside me.” Then she pressed me down harder, her body flat against mine, her breasts squished against my chest. Her face is within kissing distance, but she’s still biting her lower lip, lost in imagining what she could do to me. “I could fuck your cum right out of you. Take it for myself. That would simplify things.” Her grin widened. “Plus I’d get to FEEL you cumming, with your cock pulsing inside me.”

She rocked her hips against me to slide my dick up and down between her lips a few times. Then she pressed my tip right against her opening, pushing the head ever so slightly inside herself, and then stopped. “Is that what you want?” she asked. “I know you better than you think, and I think you want it.” Now her face is just inches from mine. “I know what I want,” she continues, “and I can feel that your body wants to do it to me. Let it. Do it. I want it. Let your body fuck me, Ben.” She’s so close, I can even feel the wet heat off of her as she says this. “Because I want you to absolutely FUCK me. I want to feel you pounding me, deep inside me.” She wiggles her hips as she talks, her knees wide so her pelvis is flat against me. My penis is flexing with every heartbeat, which she must have been able to feel with it pressed like this into the opening of her vagina. But she’s holding me down so that I can’t push it into her. Her shins are braced against my legs. I can’t get in. “I want you deep inside me,” she whispers. No release. Teasing me, tasting me, but holding me immobilized despite her encouragement. “FUCK ME, Ben,” she said again, forceful but private, half whispers, her smoldering eyes now ablaze and hungry. “Fuck me hard. Do it to me. I know you want it, and I want you to do it. I want to feel it. I want to have it.” She’s whispering straight into my ear. “Please.”

Then she let go of my wrists, shifted her hips, and sat on my legs, with my dick sticking up like a flag between us. The sparkle in her eyes returned, but the fires didn’t diminish. She smiled down at me with her palms on my chest. “Really. How do you want to fuck me first?” My dick was as hard as it could possibly get, and still bounced with my heartbeat, drizzling precum and her juices onto my belly button like it was a lube dispenser. She cupped my balls and ran her fingertips gently up and down my shaft, pleased as punch with how overly hard she got me. And dear God, she knew how to do it. But she seemed to catch herself at the end. Perhaps because she knew how anxious I had been about sex, and she apparently decided she was pushing it too fast. She was thinking about me, caring about me, and that was an even bigger turn-on. Sitting back, she stroked me slowly, waiting for me to take her.

“How about…” I say, then grab her and roll us both over, “…we start out…” I lace our fingers and hold her hands above her head, “…with something gentle…” I spread her legs using my knees, “…and enjoy each other’s bodies…” and… thump. Hmm. My dick failed to find an opening, sorta ruining my silky smooth entry.

Different women have different shapes. Of course. But it’s easy to forget when you’ve been with the same girl for your entire adult life.

“My vagina is further back than most girls, “she explains, “and some parts are oriented the other way around. It doesn’t change much, but it makes sex from behind feel to me more like what most girls get on their backs,” she said matter-of-factly, reaching down to guide my lost cock inside her.

“I never knew that was a thing,” I said as I slowly worked myself in and out with gentle strokes.

I took it in, my first time inside her. Inside anyone, actually, since my ex-wife. Her vagina was warm and soft and welcoming, though I guess they probably usually are. But Ana, being inside her felt… comfortable, I think is the best word. It felt like home. It was right. It was everything I wanted, better than I could have possibly imagined. We were naked in the warmest and happiest way possible. I put my arms around her head, rested my forehead on hers, and wiggled my hips a bit to nestled them between her legs. She tucked her legs up and wrapped them around me, and with long soft strokes I slid my still overly-hard penis slowly in and out of her vagina, almost like a massage. The closest, most intimate massage I can imagine.

She reached up and put her arms around my waist, flexing her fingertips gently on my skin, her smile bright as a sunrise, her eye glowing sapphire. In our month of dating to that point, this was the happiest I’d ever seen her. She looked me straight in the eyes and whispered quietly: “*There* *you are… Hi.”*

*”Hi,”* I whispered back.

It was quiet, it was intimate, I could hear my heart beating, I could feel her chest rise and fall under me; she moaned quietly and contentedly with each breath. Together, comfortable, and happy. It was exactly where I wanted to be.

But her interesting vagina facts had caught me off guard, and after a few minutes her words circled back to my head. And then nested there. It was really hard to picture her comparing her pussy with other girls… how far back the opening was… like when would you even look and how could you tell? I pushed deeper into her with my thrusts, getting slowly more familiar with the inside of her body. *”And… parts the other way around… like back-to-front?”* I thought, *”that would quite the discovery.”* My pace started to get irregular as the puzzle took over even more of my brain. *”But,”* I thought, *”saunas are a big thing over there and she’s talked a lot about growing up with them… maybe somebody noticed and pointed it out.”* But that couldn’t be right. Now I was downright confused. *”I didn’t see anything unusual,*” I thought, *”and I’ve definitely had a really good, close look. About as close as you can get. Good close taste, too.”* Finally, I gave up and had to ask:

“Ana, the thing you said about your vagina?”

“Hmm?”

“When did you find THAT out?” I asked.

“When I was 13.”

“HOLY SHIT.”

“From my gynecologist. Jesus, Ben.”

She rolled her eyes at me. In response to her cheeky grin, I pulled out a bit more and slammed, hard, back into her. She grunted like I’d knocked the wind out of her. But after the shock, her lips turned up into an expectant smile and she opened eyes again, hungry eyes. She shifted her shoulders, wiggled her butt, and lifted her pelvis in anticipation of the next thrust. Slam. Her smile deepened. Slam. My balls slapped against her butt. Slam. “Mmmm… yes… it feels SO good,” she moaned. Slap, slap, slap, I picked up the pace. “Oh, fuck yes..” she whimpered, digging her fingers into my sides, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Please, Fuck me! Yes! Just like this!”

And so we began. Making love, yes. But not just that; real, honest, hard, fucking.

It didn’t take long, another 10 minutes or so. She was still on her back, her legs wrapped around mine with her heels on my calves. We’d pounded our way across the bed, the impact of each thrust moving her further across the mattress. Now her head was hanging off the side of the bed, so I used one of my hands to support it. I took a moment to kiss her some more, thrusting slowly and deeply to give her a break from the heavy pounding. I lifted my pelvis so the base of my penis rubbed her front near her clit, and my tip rubbed the back wall of her vagina. I picked up the pace and force again.

Less than a minute later her eyes went wide, then closed, and she start saying: “oh my god, oh my god, oh God, oh fuck, fuck, FUUUCK… Oh, fuck *ME*, yes!”

“I *AM* fucking you, Ana!”

“I… uh.. I meant …ooh… fuck.. oh… I … uuuuh… fuuuuck…” she whimpered quietly.

“Come again?” I slowed my thrusting and instead nibbled on her ear as I felt for the telltale contractions of her vagina squeezing my dick.

“Ya…” she whimpered, “I came again…”

“You OK? You wanna keep going?” I ask.

“Yes, please. Don’t stop. Oh my god, Ben, this feels so good. Feels SOOOO GOOD. Please keep fucking me. Oh, god… soooo good…”

So we kept going. After that third orgasm, we kept at it for another 10 minutes of bliss after that, and then took a breather to grab a drink and switch positions.

*And here it’s probably a good spot for ME to take another break too. But there’s yet more to tell.*

*The third part of this story, and I’m assuming you all want another one, I think feels a lot more like a traditional sex story. From here on out it becomes about our flow of discovery as the evening continues.*

*This second post was much longer than I originally planned; I originally wrote down most of this stuff almost a year ago while it was still fresh in my mind. But there were a few details that I had left out. Like I had forgotten that I absently stuck a couple of fingers up her asshole and she didn’t even notice. It seemed irrelevant at the time. But looking back now, that detail showed a lot about how our relationship felt. It was so matter-of-fact with a constant background of simple kindness. And the way Ana got so focused on sexual pleasure like that that, that was a constant theme.*

*More fourth-wall-breaking since I’m commenting anyway: Her accent, yeah… and the deeply sexual way she says the word “fuck”. Oh. My. God. I rarely ever used that word before I met her, but I started saying it myself specifically because of how it it sounds when SHE says it. If I overuse it here, that’s why.*

*Oh, and her dirty talk and sexually teasing me here… I hope I captured it well. This was the one time she went completely all out like that, and it is seared vividly into my memory. It changed the way I understood desire and how I fit into the sexual picture with her. Life-changing.*

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/vqqfpy/coming_back_part_2_how_i_learned_that_sex_can

3 comments

  1. Hmm, that’s really interesting, so her cervical tilt is such that the length of the anterior and posterior fornixes are switched around perhaps…?

    Thanks for sharing such an emotional journey with us. I really quite enjoyed the intimate bedroom talk :3. Very cute the way you guys explored each other. Can’t wait for more. I loved the descriptions and the intimacy of the exploration dirty talk, keep em long! More please :<

  2. This was another fantastic read it’s great to read something that breaks away from what is usually posted on here and I can’t wait to read the next part

  3. I teared up (out of happiness) reading this part. I absolutely can’t wait for part 3.

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