You know how sometimes you have a fuck so amazing that you simply have to tell someone? Well, this week’s sex story comes from an anonymous reader, who needed to do just that. I’m going to keep my intro short and sweet, and just hand over to her to tell you about a fuck so hot I sort of want this guy’s number…
Guest blog: ‘Sometimes’ – a sex story I had to tell
Sometimes, a fuck comes along that changes the way you feel about fucking.
We’d been friends online for a while, casually talking about nothing in particular before the nothing in particular turned into daily flirting. And then the filth began.
The words, the photos, the videos, the frustration, all leading up to the moment where we found ourselves in a hotel room, miles away from home. One night, we’d agreed. One night of dirty sex and then we’d move on.
We began almost immediately, before we’d even taken our jackets off or remarked on the room and it started the way that every good fuck should start: with a kiss. Soft, slow, perfect tongue – it was the kind of kiss that made me understand that he planned on taking his time with me. That is, until he saw the stockings I’d worn and I was pushed on to the bed, knickers pulled to the side and that perfect tongue was between my legs.
Undressing each other, I kept my underwear on but removed his quickly. Fucking hell. I was aware of just how large his cock was from our photo exchanges but it was even better in the flesh. I don’t think either of us were prepared for just how much I wanted it. After my initial taste, it was like a drug and when he came on my lips for the first time I was already planning where I wanted him to cum next.
We fucked on the bed for a while, his huge cock not able to get entirely inside me straight away but we carried on until he could; him behind me, me on top, riding him slowly and feeling his length move in and out of me. His moans kept me wet until eventually he was balls deep.
There was a small Chaise Lounge at the side of the room which we moved on to next, me fucking him while he grabbed my ass before going down on him again. I couldn’t get enough of his cock. I let him fuck my mouth as he came and he came harder and louder than any man I’ve ever met. For now he was done. We both were.
We went out to eat but we soon realised that every second away from being naked was a second too long. We returned to our room where we immediately fucked on a chair, me facing away, his hands roaming all over my body. I came hard on his cock, flooding him before I found myself on my knees, dripping wet with him cumming on my tits.
We slept a little that night, knowing that we only had a few hours before check out the next day and neither of us wanted to waste a moment. In the morning he finger fucked me while he licked my nipples, slid his cock between my tits and I went down on him again. There’s something deliciously animalistic about the sounds a man makes when you’re taking as much of his cock into your throat as you can. For me, this sound tipped me over the edge.
“You should fuck me. Now.”
Bending me over the bed, he pounded me until I demanded he stand still, while I fucked him back just as hard until I came. But it wasn’t over. I lay back on the bed, my head hanging over the side and he began wanking over me while I licked and sucked his balls. Finally he came over my body one last time.
With a few hours to kill before we caught or separate trains, the majority of this was spent in a mild state of shock, muttering ‘fuck’, getting horny all over again and wishing we’d stayed an extra night.
I don’t remember ever being so turned on; even now as I write this, I’m squirming in my chair remembering his tongue on my clit and his cock in my cunt. I’ve lost count of the number of times I came that weekend. I’ve never been fucked like that. Ever. Apparently he feels the same.
So this is my benchmark fuck against which all future fucks will be measured. I fear he might have ruined me.