I met him at a party… Here’s a story about the best sex I’ve ever had [FM]

What’s up beautiful people, it’s Rachel again with another (hopefully) hot story for you guys! I hadn’t really planned on writing a lot of these or anything, but I received so much kind feedback (and a surprising lack of dick pics! Go you!) that I figured what the hell, I could write more :) So here goes. This is a story about the best sex I’ve ever had. Sorry for the length, and I hope you guys enjoy!
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This is a story from my sophomore year of college, probably second semester? I’d been really busy with school and this internship I was doing, so I hadn’t even gone out in like three weeks. At that point, I’d also been single for around four months, and only had one hookup in all of that time, just because I had so much else going on. So Friday night rolls around, and I’m just sitting in bed in my pajamas doing some homework when my roommate and best friend Erin walks into the apartment with three of our friends and a very much not-hidden bottle of vodka. I laughed and greeted them, asking what their plans were for the night.

“Our plans? Don’t you mean… *our* plans?” Erin said, with a wicked grin. I decided not to point out that that was just the same word twice.

“How drunk are you guys?” I asked, more amused than anything else.

“Drunk enough to go party!” Erin yelled. Yeah, she gets real basic when she’s drunk, but I love her anyway :)

I hopped out of bed to go say hi to everyone else, when Erin suddenly plopped a shot glass down in front of me.

“Drink, bitch! You’re gonna come with us!”

I smiled and said no, but she grabbed my hand and looked at me, eyes as earnest as a child’s.

“Listen, Rachel, you have been cooped up in here working for months!” *Weeks.* “I know it’s been really busy, but come on, look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t want to go out tonight.”

I looked at her then, about to say something, when my words caught in my throat. To be honest I did want to go out, and this homework wasn’t due until Monday anyway… I could tell she saw me considering it, because that was when she pounced.

“Plus you haven’t even kissed a guy in like, a year.” *A couple months.* “I know you’re too busy and important for that kind of stuff, of course, but you gotta admit, it would be nice to just let off some steam, wouldn’t it?”

She was right, of course. Fast-forward through a few more minutes of convincing and I was in the shower, getting ready to go out while Erin and our other friends sat laughing at dumb reality TV. After committing to going out, it was like a switch had been flipped in my head – suddenly I was ready, and feeling pretty racy. I put on these matching lacy teal panties and bra, thinking almost subconsciously that, if I was going to slut it up tonight, I may as well dress the part! I decided on some short white shorts and a rather low-cut teal tank top (guess my favorite color guys!!1!), once again reminded of how much warmer LA was than San Francisco where I grew up. I wore my hair longer back then, and I remember looking at the auburn curls flowing down in this contrast with the teal that I thought was quite pretty, if I do say so myself :P

I step out of my room to immediate ‘oh shit!’s from the girls in the living room, which of course did nothing but help my growing confidence for the night. Erin told me I was an ‘absolute panty-dropper,’ to which I replied, ‘guys don’t wear panties.’ She just game me a look and said that she meant what she said. We took one last pregame shot and then Erin called an Uber to take us to Frat Row.

To be honest, I don’t remember what frat we went to, I just know that it was full of douchey-looking guys who practically smelled like daddy’s money. But they had good music, free alcohol, and everyone was dancing, so I joined in the fun, hanging out pretty close with just my group of girlfriends. One girl’s boyfriend came and took her upstairs, and then another girl got approached by some dude and they started making out like, fifteen seconds after meeting each other, tops. So yeah, pretty good atmosphere.

Erin and I went to the bar when this guy came up next to me, asking if he could get me a drink. It’s not exactly the best move when the drinks are free, but I guess it was still a conversation starter! I turned to face him and was surprised to see that he didn’t really look the fratty type; dressed in skinny jeans and a denim jacket, he looked like some Burbank hipster who’d just kind of accidentally shown up. I learned that he was, in fact, a brother at the fraternity, but he didn’t really come around that much. I couldn’t really blame him. Not that the brothers I had met weren’t nice people or anything, he just really didn’t seem to fit.

His name was Ziad. We ended up talking by the bar for quite a while, and it was only several minutes in that I realized Erin had surreptitiously slunk away. She certainly didn’t make her plans for me a secret!

Ziad and I ended up leaving the party together, under some pretext that it was ‘too crowded’ or something like that. He asked me if I wanted to come hang out at his apartment for a bit, a little hesitantly and awkwardly which was, to be honest, pretty cute. I know what you’re thinking, and yes, looking back, it was incredibly stupid, but he had come off as nothing but sweet all night and I felt safe enough getting in the Uber with him. Luckily it was a great night, but a word of advice, girls: don’t go to strangers’ apartments! You should always have an easy way to escape.

Anyway, I went home with him, and by halfway there we were pretty much on top of each other, making out furiously and intensely. Sorry Uber driver! We reached his building and walked up a few flights of stairs to get to his door – I was glad I’d gone for casual and was wearing vans instead of heels.

We sat down on the couch, his arm around mine, bodies pressed up next to each other. I reveled in the warmth. He kissed me again, just once, slow and passionate and soft and intense all at once, and then pulled back and smiled.

“What?” I asked, smiling back.

“Oh, nothing… It’s just, you might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I almost rolled my eyes right there. “Do you say that to all the girls?” I said, now grinning wide.

He shrugged. “I mean, yes, I’m not gonna lie to you. But I don’t mean it with all the girls,” he said, grinning equally mischievously. When had this cocky smooth-talker replaced the awkward boy from earlier? I loved that; it felt like he was coming out of his shell because of me, like I was making him more comfortable just by being there.

“I’ll take that, I guess,” I said, before placing my hand on the side of his face and kissing him deeply. He fell backwards, allowing me to crawl on top of him, our bodies intertwined and connected by the mouth. He placed a thigh between my legs and simply held it there, applying subtle pressure that made me intensely aware of the heat, the warmth in my pussy. I ran my fingers through his long hair.

Ziad slid his hands down my body, first at my chest, then at my sides, then at my waist, his touch gentle and strong like the beginnings of a wave in deep water. I remember that metaphor actually popping into my head at the time; I told him that was how he felt and he grinned, telling me he hadn’t realized he was hooking up with Shakespeare. I don’t know why, but somehow that little offhand compliment turned me on more than anything he’d said before. I nearly tore off my top, even taking off my own bra rather than letting him do it. I have sensitive nipples – when he touched them I felt the world shake, my breath becoming shorter and tighter, soft gasps escaping my throat without permission.

He pushed me up and onto my back, then started kissing down my body while pulling off my shorts. He kissed my forehead. My nose. My cheek. My lips. My neck. My collarbone. Both breasts. It went on and on, he paid almost loving attention to every piece of my body as I lay there, breathing soft, fluttery breaths, feeling like the most attractive girl in the world.

When he kissed my clit, I knew instantly that I would come that night. I don’t know how I knew, but something about the way he touched me made it clear; he knew what he was doing. He started to eat me out in earnest, licking and kissing and fingering me into a messy puddle of a person, barely able to think straight. I started rubbing my own nipples, running my hands through his hair, grasping the couch, anything to ground myself while he worked magic with his tongue. I moaned and gasped so loud that they probably heard me all the way back at the frat house. After some time, which could’ve been two minutes or two hundred, I came shuddering to an intense orgasm, a feeling of release spreading through my whole body as I came. He crawled on top of me and kissed me softly as I lay there, utterly breathless.

I kissed him back insistently, pulling his jacket off of him and then tugging at his T-shirt until he detached from me just long enough to take that off too. He kind of hopped his way out of his skinny jeans, which I would’ve laughed at had I the breath left to laugh, and then pulled a condom from a nearby drawer (how does this guy have condoms in the living room?) before coming back to his place above me.

As he entered me, it was like everything else faded from the world. All I could feel was his dick inside me, throbbing and pumping with determined intensity. He kissed me and I kissed him, running our hands all over each other’s bodies as he thrust into me deep and strong. I could barely breathe, it was so good.

I’m not really sure how to describe the sex; it wasn’t very interesting on the surface, all we did was basic missionary. But the way it *felt!* There was more to it. The perfect rhythm with which he pushed in and out, filling me, like our bodies were built for one another. The way he held me, tight and strong, but not forceful. He held me how tree roots hold the earth. The way he kissed me, all soft and tender and romantic while still filled with this primal energy, like he was holding back from just becoming this beast, and somehow that reservation made it all feel so perfect.

When he came, I felt it through the condom, a burst of warmth as he let out a gasping breath. We lay there for a while, just basking in it, him still deep inside me, holding me tight. When we eventually detached, it was like I’d lost a part of myself. We cuddled, tight, unwilling to let go, until we both fell asleep on his couch.

Ziad and I ended up dating for almost the rest of the semester. That was a pretty fun time, full of amazing, adventurous sex, but sadly the rest of the relationship was nowhere near either of those two things, so it faded away in time. But on that first night, the sex just felt totally, completely *right.* It was as if our bodies were meant for each other, built by some sex-loving god who wanted to give us the perfect physical match. I’ll never, ever forget that night.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7b0hsv/i_met_him_at_a_party_heres_a_story_about_the_best