The irony of fucking in a closet [FF]

I’ve written about how I met my first girlfriend and how we hooked up for the first time on my living room floor. What I didn’t write about is how she left me after that and didn’t text me for four days. It fucking killed me.

*Uggg, I hate this story.*

I was struggling a lot after we fucked. For one thing I had to accept that I was not straight. Also, I was fucking obsessed with this girl. From the moment her tongue touched my clit, she took up permanent residence in my head.

I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, and I was so obsessed with her I missed that fact that my very religious roommate had clearly seen us at some point because she was preparing to kick me out. She was dropping not so subtle hints about immorality while I was in too deep into my crush to notice.

*It was in the 2000s. Things were weird.*

I didn’t fucking care about anything but her. I waited all week for our class together, and when she didn’t show up my heart sank.

I did the super mature thing by showing up at her place after class and found her sitting outside with her very, very artsy roommate. M lived in and out of an “artist house” off campus that was more like a garage with a few walls and running water.

*They did a lot of drugs and once performed an impressive number from “Wicked” when we were bored.*

*Fucking theater kids, man.*

Her roommate looked between us, and kissed her on the cheek. “You girls have fun,” he said before he walked away.

“Did you tell him about us?” I asked in horror.

“Us. That’s cute, V.”

She got up and walked inside. I followed her and she didn’t say anything as we went to her room.

*Room is a generous term. She lived in what I believe was a closet.*

She sat on her bed and I didn’t know what to do. She was in a bra and shorts. That was it. She had a tattoo in between her breasts that my eyes kept wondering to. I really, really wanted to suck on those breasts.

She didn’t seem too interested.

“Why are you here?”

“You didn’t text me.”

She started laughing hysterically and I took major offense. I got mad and threatened to leave. “What the fuck is so funny?” I finally asked.

“You didn’t text me either, Viola! I’m not your fucking debutante date.”

“Hey I never did that.”

“You never came out? Shocking. I didn’t text you because you said you were straight. I was waiting for you to text ME.”

“Oh… Ok well I’m not straight.”

“No shit! That’s why you should have texted me, you idiot.”

“Oh.”

She was still pissed though. She asked me who exactly in my life knew I was bi and I told her I had never said it out loud. I assumed a few people suspected- mainly the girls I had hooked up with. She said she didn’t feel like going back into the closet.

*This irony is not lost on me.*

I was pretty resigned to leave and then she took her bra off and threw it on the ground. I stared at her and it was hard to keep my eyes above her shoulders.

She had a really great chest.

“I don’t get it.”

“You’re here. We might as well hook up.”

I basically jumped into bed. I put my mouth on hers and my hand immediately went to her chest. She flipped me over so I was on my back and pushed her hips into mine as she climbed on top.

“I don’t know know how to do this,” I mumbled.

*Honestly? I had actually fucked girls before but I didn’t think of it as fucking. I realize how oddly messed up that sounds, but I saw things differently then. There was no mistaking this though. I wanted to fuck her. I WAS fucking her. This was sex.*

“Make me come?” She pulled back and asked. “You can use my vibrator if you want.”

I shook my head and she understood. She sat back and undressed all the way slowly before lowing herself backward. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as I crawled toward her and started kissing up her thigh.

*I really was in love with her. I can see it so clearly now when I revisit these stories but I was so stupid at the time and very confused by my feelings.*

I got the urge to tell her I was in love with her then, but instead I just whispered something about wanting to taste her. She nodded.

Eating pussy is weird when you’re not used to it, even if you have one. I’ve never found a woman who liked it exactly the same way, but I suppose I have a general framework now that I’m older and wiser in that department. There was no way I was “skilled” back then.

I think my enthusiasm made up for inexperience though.

I devoured her fucking clit. I didn’t walk, I ran. I dove in and couldn’t get enough.

“Good girl,” she moaned.

*Mother fucker.*

Jesus, I loved the way she tasted. I loved the way she responded when my tongue hit her clit. I loved the way her body shook, and her face tensed.

She wrapped a leg around my neck and pushed my head down further. I would have let her move my head anywhere. In fact, the rougher she got the harder I went with my tongue. I needed her. The more I licked her, the more addicting it became.

I reached up to grab her breast and she put a hand over mine and squeezed. When she threw her head back and cried and panted, I lost it. Her voice cracked slightly as she came and I watched her face tense a final time.

It was so fucking hot.

When she finally laid back and smiled down at me, I was still shaking. She told me to undress so I did so quickly.

She nodded and held her arms out for me to cuddle. She pulled me in to spoon and stroked my hair. She put her mouth to my ear and asked if I had touched myself thinking of her.

I nodded.

“How many times?”

“Basically constantly.”

“…Are you sore?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me feel where.”

I guided her hand to the side of my clit and let her feel. I gasped when she touched me and tensed up.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah. But it feels good.”

“I like feeling where I made you sore,” she whispered.

She bit my earlobe then and held me in place. Then she went hard. I shuddered at the sharp build and felt my teeth grind as I suppressed a groan. She chuckled slightly when I squirmed but then I whispered for her to keep going.

It took her a while to get me off like that but neither of us minded. When I came I grabbed her forearms and had tears in my eyes as I whimpered through an orgasm.

We laid there for a while after. She was sweet for all of two seconds and then told me not to get comfortable because I’d have to leave soon.

I didn’t leave until Sunday.

We fucked three times that night. I ate her out. She ate me out. We pulled out toys and she handcuffed me for part of it.

At 3:00am we were watching “The Office” and eating cherry tomatoes. She put one on my stomach just so she could put her mouth back on me to eat it off. I smiled and told her we needed to incorporate more food.

“Does this happen to you all the time?” I asked.

“What? Pussy?”

“Sex this good. Is this just your life?”

*To clarify, I had enjoyed sex before but not like that. That shit changes you.*

She got a little sad and sighed before answering. “No Viola. This doesn’t just happen to me.”

“Because this is like really, really good, right? It’s not just me?”

“This is really, really complicated. I can’t go backwards.”

My heart dropped. “Ok.”

“Let’s just enjoy it.”

Then we got high and fell asleep entangled in each other.

The next day was entertaining.

I woke up alone but weirdly sated and almost dreamlike. Still, I freaked a little when she wasn’t there. I freaked a little more when I heard one of her roommates ask if she had just “fucked that hippie chick.”

It took me a minute to realize I was said hippie chick.

I scrambled to get dressed and she barged in when I was getting my things together to leave. Her face fell and then hardened. “It’s too bad I don’t have a window to crawl out of, huh?”

“I just have to go.”

“Yeah. Fuck you, Viola.”

She opened the door for me to leave and I hung my head in shame and walked out. I was met with the sight of three shirtless men at their kitchen table.

*Yes, I came out of the closet to find three queer men staring at me. That’s something that sticks with you.*

One studied me closely. “You’re in my film class.”

“Yeah, hi,” I said awkwardly.

“Y’all! This is Viola! She’s the one who made a series about squirrels falling in love on our campus.”

*I was the OG MPDG.*

“The squirrel rom com!!!” The other yelled. “Sit down and talk us through your process.”

This is how I came out of a literal closet and became friends with M’s roommates. She walked out at one point and they all got quiet as she banged around in the kitchen to grab coffee and then slammed her door shut.

Then they all burst out laughing.

“She’s moody. You were either very good or very bad,” one giggled. “She’s usually chill after sex.”

“Does she have women over a lot?” I blurted out.

“She’s never let one stay the night, so this is a fun development.”

That was interesting news. It made me brave. I went back into her “closet/room” (*again the irony is there*) and stood awkwardly. She was sitting on her bed, drinking coffee in her underwear (*she never fucking dressed remotely normal*) and reading a book. She didn’t even look up at me.

“You’re a fucking cunt. Do you get that, V?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“If you leave right now never, ever come back again.”

“What?”

“Those are MY friends. Do you understand? Are you going to invite me out with yours?”

“Probably not.”

“Yeah.”

“Can we slow down here? I’m so confused.”

“Slow down? I can fucking still taste you.”

I could taste her too. That made me wet. I suspect the feeling was mutual because she put down her drink and book and finally nodded for me to join her.

“We need to talk about this,” I tried to say. Before I could get the words out of my mouth she attacked me.

*See this is where shit gets tricky because our real life tension bled into our sex life. Naturally, I’m submissive and she’s more dominate in bed, but some of our sex didn’t feel like role play because I felt guilty and she was frustrated. She fucked with me a lot.*

*But damn it! I was 19 and only human.*

After a life of rushed and awkward sex, when the hottest girl youve ever seen puts a vibrating butt plug up your ass and pulls your hair as she spanks and fingers you, it’s REALLY hard to stop and discuss the psychological hang ups that might be contributing to the dynamics of your budding sexual relationship.

Fuck, it was rare I even came during sex before that, and she was on a mission orgasm me into submission.

I had to put a pillow in my mouth as she kept hitting me with her open palm and I begged her not to stop when she told me I was turning red.

When she finally ate me out with that fucking toy still in me, she kept rubbing my ass because it was sore and sensitive and she loved the way I jolted each time.

*Yeah… We had good sex.*

We took a bath together after and I got her off with my fingers while we were in the tub. She whispered “Mother fucker, fuck you,” as she came and then held me until the water got cold.

*Writing this makes me sad, y’all. I’m in an almost annoyingly happy marriage with the best person I know, but revisiting time periods like this remind me that shit was real, albeit temporary. I don’t miss it, but I miss that version of me.*

We ordered Chinese food that night and she drew a flower on my back with markers as we ate spring rolls and watched “The Graduate.” It was my favorite movie and she liked it because the lead character was hot AF.

“She kind of looks like you,” she said as she played with my hair.

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“True, I wouldn’t eat her ass, but I’d eat yours.”

She did. She put her tongue all over me that night and I did the same to her.

I did finally leave the next morning but I texted her literally on the way home and hat I wanted to see her again.

Then my roommate basically kicked me out. She had indeed seen us and no longer felt we were a good fit to live together. I had already paid rent, but the implications that she would “out” me was enough for me to agree to leave.

I basically moved in with the woman who would become my best friend for the remainder of college, so this ousting was a blessing in disguise. She knew M existed and I suspected she thought we were “something,” but I think I only said it once out loud once when we were wasted. Years later she said she knew the entire time but was giving me space.

M and I were complicated, as you might have guessed. We couldn’t be together but we couldn’t be apart. She’s actually still in my life and knows about this account. My husband actually likes her and they’re friendly when she decides to pop up- which is infrequent and unpredictable.

So yeah. I suppose my only regret is that I didn’t come out of that closet sooner, but that didn’t diminish how formative this relationship was for me or how deeply I cared about her.

Also. Fuck me, the sex was good.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/wywwc1/the_irony_of_fucking_in_a_closet_ff