When I meet new guys they usually ask about my fav position. That's good. I like that they're interested enough to care.
I usually tell them doggie. But it's not fixed in stone. It depends on my mood and the guy and the situation. I mean some of my best orgasms have been on my back, and others have been with me on top. It varies. But I usually will say doggie.
I met this guy about a month ago and he had been trying to get with me steadily since we first started talking. My husband was impressed with his determination. But every time we tried to meet something got in the way. That's life right?
One night my husband called this guy up and asked him if he wanted to meet for a beer at a place downtown. They set it up and met and drank some brews together and talked mostly about me, from what my husband said. Then my husband asked him if he was ready to stop messing around and get together. The guy said hell yeah (all the delays were on my end really). So my husband told him to follow him back to our house.
On the way home (I'm NOT shitting you, ON. THE. WAY. HOME!!!!) my asshole husband calls me and tells me this guy is behind him and they will be here in 15 minutes. I slammed down the phone and ran for the shower. I had 14 minutes left to shower, shave everything, throw on a face and something semi-fucking-sexy and be ready to meet a guy for the first time.
I managed to pull it all together, and came out ten minutes after they settled into the living room (personal record!). At that point I had to do my best at glaring at asshole-hubby, while smiling at (damn good looking) new guy-possible fuck bud.
Beers were served by asshole-hubby, while new guy and I got acquainted. He was nice. Great teeth. Good sense of humor. Nice hands. He dressed and smelled good too. More beers. Less of a presence by asshole-hubby who probably realized that he was deep shit with me anyway. More beers. One thing led to another, which led to the bedroom.
We went in and I locked the door. (Bad asshole-hubby! Keep out!) I dropped the next-to-nothing skirt and blouse I had been wearing, and slid up onto the bed. He stripped off his shirt, unbuckled his pants and stripped down to nothing as fast as I had. He crawled into the bed, with an impressively stout cock waving in front of him, and dropped between my legs. No kissing. No tit play. Straight for the crotch. Okay. Some of them are like that. I'm easy (DOH!). Go for it.
Nice work with the mouth, one mild to decent O and I'm wet enough. I ask him if would like to fuck.
He rolled me over onto my stomach, and pulled me up by my hips into a kneeling position. Then he worked his dick into my pussy and eased it all the way down. (NICE thick dick, very hard.)
Then he fucked me. But fucked doesn't begin to describe it. Let me tell you -- that guy fucked me for 40 minutes on my hands and knees like he was some kind of electric destruction machine. I have been fucked hard before but NEVER like that! He hammered me into total fucking submission.
I was crying and yelling and cumming until I had tears streaming down my face. I reached a point where I was cumming over and over and I couldn't stop. I think I was even sobbing at one point. But this guy never slowed down and never missed a beat. I swear to God I could have passed out or died and I don't think he would have stopped.
Maybe he was on something. Maybe he was using Viagra. I don't know. I do remember when he came (finally THANK GOD!) and it was every bit as insistent as his fucking. I probably had cum running out of my ears.
I know I had several dozen of the most unbelievable orgasms of my life, and it was unforgettable as hell. But the next day my hips were bruised from where he grabbed me, and my butt was tender where he kept slamming into me. My pussy was so sore that it hurt to pee (I swear!) and I limped when I walked. I'm not exaggerating. He was that much of a power fucker. My husband said he had thought seriously about breaking down the door more than once, until he heard me cumming. Otherwise he thought I was being pummeled to death.
It took me almost a week to recover. I've never been that sore from sex. My husband had to settle for whatever he could get, because my pussy was tagged out for days. As sore as I was though, I've already masturbated thinking about that night. I'm even thinking that I may have to have him back, at least once more.
I need to work out before I see him though. Maybe some running, or a triathlon. Maybe even some boxing lessons. I need to toughen up! But I do think about him.
I think I'll go for doggie style again. It is my favorite you know. ;-)
Damn. I'm getting wet.
Who are the ones that like pain? Masochists, right? Hmmmm............
I met this guy about a month ago and he had been trying to get with me steadily since we first started talking. My husband was impressed with his determination. But every time we tried to meet something got in the way. That's life right?
One night my husband called this guy up and asked him if he wanted to meet for a beer at a place downtown. They set it up and met and drank some brews together and talked mostly about me, from what my husband said. Then my husband asked him if he was ready to stop messing around and get together. The guy said hell yeah (all the delays were on my end really). So my husband told him to follow him back to our house.
On the way home (I'm NOT shitting you, ON. THE. WAY. HOME!!!!) my asshole husband calls me and tells me this guy is behind him and they will be here in 15 minutes. I slammed down the phone and ran for the shower. I had 14 minutes left to shower, shave everything, throw on a face and something semi-fucking-sexy and be ready to meet a guy for the first time.
I managed to pull it all together, and came out ten minutes after they settled into the living room (personal record!). At that point I had to do my best at glaring at asshole-hubby, while smiling at (damn good looking) new guy-possible fuck bud.
Beers were served by asshole-hubby, while new guy and I got acquainted. He was nice. Great teeth. Good sense of humor. Nice hands. He dressed and smelled good too. More beers. Less of a presence by asshole-hubby who probably realized that he was deep shit with me anyway. More beers. One thing led to another, which led to the bedroom.
We went in and I locked the door. (Bad asshole-hubby! Keep out!) I dropped the next-to-nothing skirt and blouse I had been wearing, and slid up onto the bed. He stripped off his shirt, unbuckled his pants and stripped down to nothing as fast as I had. He crawled into the bed, with an impressively stout cock waving in front of him, and dropped between my legs. No kissing. No tit play. Straight for the crotch. Okay. Some of them are like that. I'm easy (DOH!). Go for it.
Nice work with the mouth, one mild to decent O and I'm wet enough. I ask him if would like to fuck.
He rolled me over onto my stomach, and pulled me up by my hips into a kneeling position. Then he worked his dick into my pussy and eased it all the way down. (NICE thick dick, very hard.)
Then he fucked me. But fucked doesn't begin to describe it. Let me tell you -- that guy fucked me for 40 minutes on my hands and knees like he was some kind of electric destruction machine. I have been fucked hard before but NEVER like that! He hammered me into total fucking submission.
I was crying and yelling and cumming until I had tears streaming down my face. I reached a point where I was cumming over and over and I couldn't stop. I think I was even sobbing at one point. But this guy never slowed down and never missed a beat. I swear to God I could have passed out or died and I don't think he would have stopped.
Maybe he was on something. Maybe he was using Viagra. I don't know. I do remember when he came (finally THANK GOD!) and it was every bit as insistent as his fucking. I probably had cum running out of my ears.
I know I had several dozen of the most unbelievable orgasms of my life, and it was unforgettable as hell. But the next day my hips were bruised from where he grabbed me, and my butt was tender where he kept slamming into me. My pussy was so sore that it hurt to pee (I swear!) and I limped when I walked. I'm not exaggerating. He was that much of a power fucker. My husband said he had thought seriously about breaking down the door more than once, until he heard me cumming. Otherwise he thought I was being pummeled to death.
It took me almost a week to recover. I've never been that sore from sex. My husband had to settle for whatever he could get, because my pussy was tagged out for days. As sore as I was though, I've already masturbated thinking about that night. I'm even thinking that I may have to have him back, at least once more.
I need to work out before I see him though. Maybe some running, or a triathlon. Maybe even some boxing lessons. I need to toughen up! But I do think about him.
I think I'll go for doggie style again. It is my favorite you know. ;-)
Damn. I'm getting wet.
Who are the ones that like pain? Masochists, right? Hmmmm............
