I saw him again. The stars aligned.
Scratch that.
Everything conspired against me. Last week was just filled with annoyances. This particular day, I’d agreed to help a friend with something. What was supposed to take an hour ended up taking 5. We’d planned on an early afternoon rendezvous, but that was accidentally shot all to hell by my friend. I negotiated a later meeting time, never an easy thing for him to do. Once I was done with helping her, I had to rush, rush, rush, bribe my husband to vacate the house (which he did, because he’s *awesome*), and drive aggressively through rush hour traffic, but I beat my lover to my place by 5 minutes.
When I let him in, I could barely contain my glee.
We went upstairs and into my bedroom, and all I remember are his big hands closing around my shoulders from behind and my knees buckling. I saw splotches of red and purple behind my eyes, and everything gets really blurry. I dimly remember him teasing me through my black silk panties, which were impossibly damp. He has this way about him, this quiet presence. And I understood something without him speaking any words — this time was going to be about me. I don’t remember him undressing me at all, or himself. I don’t remember if he went down on me. I just kind of lost time for a bit, which is one of the most powerful compliments I can ever pay to any lover.
It’s actually rare that I lose memory of what happens to me during sex. I just remember coming and coming and coming … and how hard he was fucking me. When I came to a bit, I was hanging halfway off the bed, my head almost touching the floor. He was hitting the bottom of me, pounding me, slamming into me, and with each thrust, I fell a little more off the bed. I cried out to him, “Oh, oh, god! You’re all the way inside me!” and I was filled with the wonder of it, and I came over and over and over again.
He was giving me something that I’d been craving, that I needed, that I’ve missed — he was like a force of nature, athletic, strong, beautiful, sexy, so fucking sexy, and all that glorious friction, pounding into me, his cock filling me up so beautifully, stretching me out fully, just really burying himself in me. Fuck! I’ve missed that! Being manhandled, being fucked so hard that it hurts, and yet, he was sensuous, too, and compassionate to me, taking pity on me and giving me what I’d told him without words I needed.
I finally had to readjust, though if there was a little more room on that side of the bed, I would’ve tumbled off the bed with him in a heap and let him take me on the floor. I wanted doggy, so I presented my ass to him, and he obliged, and I slammed back against him as he pulled my hips to him, and it wasn’t long before I fell forward onto my stomach, whimpering, slain by the power of my orgasms.
This position, by the way, is my very favorite position, especially with someone who is a large as he is. He was completely filling me, and the large and luscious head of the his cock was working my A-spot. I felt the orgasm build and build and build, and I opened outward when I came, thick, slick come, and a lot of it, so slippery that it felt like lube. I only come like that from A-spot orgasms, and they are the rarest kind of orgasms that I have.
He made me come twice like that, and I was sobbing and whimpering without tears because it felt so fucking good that I was just overwhelmed. I think I was speaking in tongues. I swear to god, I don’t remember what I was saying. At one point, I rode him, and exploded into orgasm again, and we changed positions a few more times before ending up back in missionary. I realized something that turned me on so much I came again — his cock was on fire, burning me. His cock felt like it was a hundred degrees hotter than any other part of him … or of me. I squeezed him tight, and I started testifying to the power of his cock, I was just in awe of what he was doing to me, and he went harder, his sweat dripping onto me from above and I lost my goddamned mind.
I could feel him getting closer and closer, and I growled and begged him to come, to give me every drop, and I gritted my teeth and I came, and so did he, and I felt him start to come inside me, but he pulled out and shot a huge load all over my belly. It’s his come, I’d never try to trick him into shooting into me if he didn’t want to, but that doesn’t stop me from craving to be filled to the brim with his cum.
In a perfect world, we’d have been able to linger, to fuck all night. As it was, I had concert tickets, and he is always rushing to be somewhere, too. He’s a stranger still, and one I’ll probably never know the way that I want to. I never know when he leaves if I will ever see him again, or how long it might be. My pussy was sore until the next day, and I love being marked in that way, so that I constantly remember what I’ve experienced with my lover.
All I’ve been thinking about this week is sucking his cock, something that we haven’t gotten around to, but oh! how I want to do it, to spoil him, to pay him back for the stress relief he gave me the other night, to deep throat his cock until I come, to tease him, to edge him, to drink his cum.
I hope I get that chance.
The first part: [https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9fovo3/fucking_a_stranger_fm/](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9fovo3/fucking_a_stranger_fm/)
The second: [https://www.reddit.com/r/DirtyConfession/comments/9h8k38/when_things_dont_work_out/](https://www.reddit.com/r/DirtyConfession/comments/9h8k38/when_things_dont_work_out/)
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9o9uj1/the_stranger_chronicles_fm