A Second Chance [MF]

When I was still a virgin, which was awhile (I was in my head for bit) the new girl, Rebecca, came to town and tried to devour me.

We ended up having mutual friends, and she nabbed a ride to her old city with us one night. On the way home, she laid her head on my 15 year old lap, and casually placed her hand right next to my groin. Somehow, I managed not to pitch a tent, and to miss every signal she gave me when we “chatted” in a bedroom by ourselves for an hour while she laid in several suggestive poses and I told her all about some inane topic.

She flirted with me a couple of times more before setting her sights on my friend, who she dated for the rest of high school. I can’t blame her as despite my clumsy internal dialogue, I gave her literally not one iota of an inclination that I viewed her (or any other girl to that point) romantically.

She went south for college, going to one of those classic party schools. In my senior year of college, I went home to visit the parents around Thanksgiving. As one does, they go looking for the bars they can now get into after coming of age. I had caught up with my family enough to meet some friends at a local watering hole. And there she was.

In high school, she was a dirty blond, lanky to the point of having knobby knees, but charming, with a cute face, hazel eyes, and swimming in A-line dresses that gave no indication of a figure she did or didn’t have at that point. Now, she was lounging in a booth with a couple of friends, and she was a show-stopper.

She had that reddish auburn dark brown that had recently been made popular by the actress portrayal in Dumb and Dumber (Lauren something…). It was such a better frame for her face, that had filled out with maturity, reaching the peak of its quite alluring proportions. She was wearing a little black dress, with a little jacket that had accented it well. She looked sophisticated and the table bisected my view of her. Above, she held herself with the graceful posture of a swimmer, or a dancer. Her breasts were sizable and shapely, without being out of proportion. Below, she crossed her long legs to highlight their lines, and to show off, as they had filled out with her development, and were her most striking feature at that moment. While she was not pale in high school, the activities of her southern school had sun kissed her in the most flattering way. She was entertaining the comment of someone that was talking right into her ear to overcome the noise in the bar, giving a knowing nod to indicate agreement while drawing her drink into her mouth through a straw, *all while staring at me like I was an herbivore on the Savannah.*

To be honest, I didn’t recognize her. I looked behind me to see an empty dart board on the wall, then back, and she was smiling, and waiving me over. I saw my friends in a different corner of the bar, did that thing where a guy puts his hand up in the air to acknowledge I’ll be over in a bit, and I walked towards the lion’s den.

“Hello Ladies,” I started. I realized that I knew two of the other girls at the table (they were a couple years ahead of me), and started to engage them politely awaiting to check in with my summoner, when she said, “It’s so good to see you again Schmorg!” I recognized her voice first, despite it also having changed to a slightly more alto tone.

“Becca?!?” I’d lost track of her shortly after high school when she broke up with my buddy. “How are you? What are you up to? Do you still keep up with Jayson?”

I was informed of her last few years, that her and Jayson had kept up a platonic relationship, that she was single now, she was studying communications, and had a job lined up to be a medical device salesperson after college that would take her to the east coast. And she asked about me.

I’d told her I was casually dating after coming out of a year long relationship, about my studies wrapping up, and that I hadn’t even thought about a job yet. She asked, “Why did you and he breakup?”

“Excuse me?” I asked in a very casual way, as I thought I’d misheard her with the crowd noise.

“YOUR BOYFRIEND,” she shouted. “Who ended it between you two?” I blushed a bit as an amazed smile came over my face. *I like a good show tune. I like to dress well. I ignored her hand a small piece of fabric away from balls for like 40 minutes once. Fair assumption.*

All of the ladies at the table awaited my answer. “It was him,” I shrugged. “I should go…” I started to back away from the table.

When I sat down and relayed the story from Becca’s table to my friends (some of who knew about our past interaction), my fellas went full r/instantbarbarians. Becca’s table giggled almost as noticeably. The night carried on, and I pondered how I always ended up the straight man to these gags. I started to form the thought into words, and noticed the pun. *”Straight man” indeed,* I privately mused. I paid my tab and said goodbye to my friends, and walked out, not thinking much about it.

“Why not tell me?” I heard, as I started to shuffle out towards the sidewalk. I turned and saw Becca smoking a cigarette, her last friend just leaving her. I shrugged and smiled. “Greg told me. Walk me home?” she asked. I pivoted, and put my arm out in a pre-formed triangle in that 1930’s style, for her to take. She did and we proceeded to walk towards the residential layout that housed both our parents’ house not too far away. The scenery quickly changed from commercial buildings to houses, sidewalks, and tree lined causeway/setoffs. It was and still is a pretty neighborhood.

She held my arm for support occasionally, and laid her head up against my shoulder. I finally came clean. “Sorry, I thought it would be funnier if I just rolled with it,” I finally offered as we walked.

“It was an honest mistake…I know you and Jill eventually dated, but I just thought you weren’t ready to come out.” she started tentatively. I quickly put any trepidation out of her mind. “Of course it was, I remember how badly I misread the signals you were laying down.” Cards were being laid on the table.

“Did you not like me then?” She asked. “I very much liked you Becca.” I quickly answered. “I was just really in my head about girls for a while. Jill helped put all of that behind me.”

“And now?” She asked.

I wasn’t making the same mistake twice.  The words had barely left her lips when I’d closed the distance to her.   She kissed me hard, but with a slightly closed mouth.  I almost ate her lips a bit after coming in used to things with my ex-girlfriend Kristin.  We got sorted out into a much better rhythm, the dark residential street quiet except for the small sounds of our lips smacking. As we made out, I teased her a little.  “You’re a much better kisser than my last boyfriend.”  She giggled a little in my mouth as we kissed again.  “You’re better than my last boyfriend too,” she quipped. Touche.

My head was swimming sorting out logistics of how this could continue; and hopefully escalate. My parents house was occupied. Hers? “Are you staying at your parents house? Are they home?” I asked in between kissing her and feeling her up under outfit. She offered nothing useful. “I am, but we can’t go there.”

I heard a car engine, and the growing glow of approaching headlights. I disengaged, and took her hand, starting to walk along our way. As the care overtook us on our left, the street darkened, and the upcoming house did not have a porch light. The rows of 1920’s craftsman homes came adorned sparingly with a recessed garage on the side. This house had such a garage, and it was as dark as midnight (literally) between the two structures. I lead her back to the darkness.

She immediately started to protest. But not seriously. She playfully whispered, “Stop, we can’t…you’re so naughty…are you kidding?” as we approached the darkened house. She had a huge grin on her face, and she looked down right excited. I still hadn’t addressed how little she understood how much I wanted to fuck her. Then and now.

I kissed her briefly, reached up under her blouse and bra with one hand, reached into her panties with my other, placing my whole hand over her hot slit slightly moving it back and forth, smashing us together, and whispered into her ear, “We spent years with you thinking I’d rather fuck a guy than you, let’s not spend more years pretending you didn’t want to be my secret little slut right fucking here, right fucking now, outside this house.” As I said it I had retrieved my hand from under her bra, and brought it down on her clothed ass, but hard enough that it sounded like a thunder clap in the quiet neighborhood. We both flinched, surprised by the amount of sound, and she sort of shushed me as she came close, and said, “Make me your little slut.” Then she reached in my pants.

Our foreplay was hectic, rushed, muted, and filled with very quickly escalating but whispered name play that came to a crescendo as I bent Becca over and slammed into her soaking wet pussy. The taboo of it all was enough to make me want to cum immediately. “Are you gonna fuck your little slut?” she whimpered as she took me all the way in. “You’re such a good little slut, you’re already so wet for me.” I was praising her and she was anxious for more.

“Do you like the way I fuck you?” I stopped pumping her and let her slam herself back onto me. Her little mini dress had ridden up over her ass, and I was squeezing one of her cheeks bare, and the other over the underwear that been shoved to that side. “Show me how a good little slut fucks me back.” I commanded her as I spanked the side of her ass that was bare. The sharp sound made her jump a little, but she was getting more and more excited. “Is this how your little fucking whore fucks you best?” I reached up and grabbed her hair as I began to bottom out on her with every stroke. “This little whore knows exactly where my dick belongs.” She responded with only long repeated growling of “Ohhhhh fuck.” Then, she said the final thing that sent me over the edge, “Fucking pound your little whore.”

I felt the rush of my orgasm start to build. I released her hair, and fucked her as hard as I could while I pulled her into me by both of her hips until I came. We were walking down the street within just a couple of minutes, as we’d stayed clothed the entire time.

“Fuck, that was hot,” I whispered in her ear as I kissed her cheek on her parents door step.

“I’m here until Sunday night,” she said as she quietly sneaked into her house the like the teenage version of herself I’d known so many years ago.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/12sfipj/a_second_chance_mf