If you told me before that to this day I’ll still think about the man I met 2 years ago after only spending a weekend together, I’d say you’re absolutely delusional. Yet here I am, looking at the videos he sent me while fingering my pussy so hard that my bed is soaking wet from so much squirting. He might just be my “the one that got away”.
It was 2 years ago when I [F27] matched with him [M25] on Tinder. He was from Denmark. This typical tall (6’3”) white boy with blonde hair and blue eyes – you know the type that doesn’t sun tan they just get sunburnt (his words not mine). His jawlines so defined it could cut glass and his lips, oh his thick soft lips. We were both visiting the Philippines just after New Year’s and having the a bit of pure fun before COVID was declared a global pandemic.
Unfortunately for us, we matched in Manila but ended up in completely different islands so we just kept on texting. We would talk about what we’re doing for the day, sending pictures and all that, and a few surprise dirty messages of how he’d love to fuck me behind this big rock he found by the beach.