My Last Three Days in America [MF] [MF] [MF] – Part 1

I’ve been going through a tough break-up recently and decided that rather than filling the gaping hole in my heart with booze, I’d be more productive and recount an experience that would make some people happy/horny.

Okay, to be fair, it was more like a series of experiences, so I shall be doing this in parts.

A little while ago, I decided that my tenure in America (for the time being anyway) was going to be coming to an end. I’d spent more than ten years living in a major city on the East coast and another four years in a more rural area before that. There was an opportunity in my home country that was too good to pass up and with a heavy heart (and equally heavy bags), I announced my pending departure on social media.

The outpouring of support was fantastic. I had told people about two months in advance of my leaving date but it was the last three days that took the cake. Over the course of 72 hours, I manage to have three sexual experiences with three different women. Here’s how they went.

Lady No. 1 – Sarah

Sarah and I met in very much the same way most modern romances do: with the assistance of a dating app. We had matched on Bumble about eight months before, got drunk on our first date at a craft beer hall, stole a candle, made out under scaffolding, and went back to my place, where I went down on her until she came multiple times and then fell asleep.

You know. Normal first date stuff.

I was worried that my genius idea of “Hey, let’s try ALL THE BEERS” would give me… Let’s call it ‘mechanical issues’ (and I was right) so I circumvented the problem entirely by not using my ‘mechanism’ during our first experience. She was so curious as to why I didn’t want to use my tool (okay, the euphemism is getting old) that it sparked a second, third, umpteenth encounter. When we DID finally have sex… Oh boy. She must have been a plumber in a previous life because she really knew how to work that pipe. (I have found a new euphemism. Deal with it.)

Also, Sarah was bi and was very upfront with me: I would not be the only person in her rotation, male or female, nor did she expect her to be the only one in mine. Tall, curvy, with a plump ass that could squat double her body weight (and showed me to prove it), I couldn’t blame her and completely endorsed her behavior. She was extremely kinky and was happy to explore any and all proclivities I had. She was more than happy to be a canvas as I painted my way to discovering my own kinks. We would use toys, restraints, and even shared stories about our experiences while fucking one another. It was all incredibly hot.

So three days before I was due to fly off, my cock was understandably hard when she texted. She was sad that I was leaving and had hoped to see me one more time before I left. Thinking about her long red hair, style neatly in a fringe, her breasts that seemed to be in a constant battle with every bra she owned, and her penchant for dirty talk, I of course obliged. She had a favor to ask of me though: she wanted me to go shopping with her.

Now, I get that going shopping with a girl is theoretically something a boyfriend or best friend should do but Sarah was in a bit of a pickle and I wanted to put my pickle in her. This wasn’t normal shopping. She wanted to go shopping for a strap-on.

Here’s where I should back up. Or maybe not, in this case, since this is how accidents happen. I’m not bi. I have never once considered doing “butt stuff”. I have no problems with other people doing it, it’s just not for me. Or my butt. But Sarah trusts me, values my input, and has tasted my cum. She wanted me to go with her because she didn’t want to go alone and wanted to go with someone who was comfortable talking about sex. And knowing what was waiting at the end of the proverbial rainbow, I happily obliged.

The shopping itself was strangely uneventful. Besides a little bit of spanking and innuendo, we just looked like an innocuous couple shopping for groceries, except all of the groceries we were shopping for looked like dongs. She settled on a nice, sleek model that pleasured her as well as whoever else she would be fucking and featured a detachable harness. Satisfied with her purchase, we proceeded back to my place, flirting the whole way.

******* NAUGHTY BITS START HERE *******

When we got to my apartment, staring at devices meant for carnal pleasures and discussing what we were going to do to each other had proven to have the desired effect of reducing us to horny fucking animals. We tore each other’s clothes off at the entryway and before long, I was fingering Sarah aggressively with her panties pulled to the side. She had soaked through them during our excursion and it didn’t take much before she quivered to an orgasm. She then took over, dragging me over to my couch, shoving me onto it, and blowing my fully hard cock. She knelt on the couch next to me, slobbering over my penis with the same enthusiasm that she showed eight months before when we made out under that super romantic scaffolding. In that position, I was able to slip two and then, eventually, three fingers into her slit, using her moaning as a compass as to whether I was hitting the right spots.

I was.

I was getting close to coming and I let her know, so she got off (giggity) my cock and had me reposition again so I was lying down on the couch. She hopped on top of me, pulled me into a deep kiss, and then slid her pussy riiiiiiiight onto my cock. I let out a sigh of ecstasy right as her breath tightened from feeling me fill her up. We savored that moment, just for a second.

Sarah: “You good?”
Me: “I’m great.”
Sarah, giggling: “Yeah you are.”

She started riding me, hard. Sarah was an avid gym-goer and stamina was never an issue. She pressed her hands into my chest and slid her body up and down the shaft of my cock, her eyes closed, engulfed in ecstasy. I placed my hands on her hips, carrying her body up and down but I wasn’t fooling anyone: she was doing all the work. Her moans rose higher and louder and her nails dug deeper into my chest. She cried out before she came once more and collapsed, a quaking mess on top of me.

Sarah: “Holy fuck.”
Me: “How do you feel?”
Sarah: “Amazing.”
Me: “Can you go one more?”
Sarah: “Absolutely.”

I stood up and moved her into doggy position. Knowing that she liked it rougher than most, I shoved her head down into the couch pillows before forcefully grabbing her hips and raising them higher. Head down, ass up. Collecting both of her wrists in one hand, I positioned myself behind her.

Me: “Ready?”
Sarah, muted by pillows: “Mmmf hmmf.”
Me: “You want it?”
Sarah, now more pillow than woman: “Mmm mmm hmmf hmmf.”

I shrugged, and proceeded to shove my cock into her. Even with the pillows muffling her voice, I could hear her cry out in bliss. I fucked her hard from behind, pumping her without restraint, fueled by the knowledge that this may very well be the last time I see her.

Sarah then said something I couldn’t hear.

“Slp mmm sss.”

I used my free hand and grabbed a handful of her hair, tugging it firmly so her back arched towards me. I was still inside her. She was slick with sweat.

“What did you say?”

She broke out into a mischievous grin.

“Slap my ass. Hard.”

I managed to plant a hard kiss to her lips, completely charged by lust, and she resumed the position yet again. I slapped her right cheek, remembering not to lose rhythm as I continued to fuck her.

“Harder.”

SLAP. Left cheek this time.

“Harder!”

I wound up my right hand and SLAPPED her cheek hard, leaving a bright red mark that matched her hair.

“Oh, FUCK!”

That was the tipping point. She came once again and that put me over the edge. She was on the pill but I pulled out anyway because I loved covering her with cum and she equally loved being covered. Maybe even more so.

I managed to spray a couple of ropes that led from the fresh red mark I made on her ass to the small of her back before my orgasm reduced to a dribble of cum. She splayed out on the sofa like a defeated starfish while I collapsed into a pile next to her, two naked hunks of flesh who had fucked themselves into exhaustion.

Me: “How was that?”
Sarah: “Eh.”

We both laughed. We made out for a little bit before I went to get a towel to wipe my shame (and her victory) off of her back. It was a great beginning to what would be an epic send off.

—
Part 2 coming soon!

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/bdwoqr/my_last_three_days_in_america_mf_mf_mf_part_1