I woke up feeling the soft, warm embrace of my sheets around me, with a slight tingle between my legs that made me smile. I reached down and slid my fingers over my pussy, feeling the wetness there that had accumulated during my dreams. I closed my eyes and thought about what had happened in my sleep, remembering the image of him standing there with his pants around his ankles, his hard cock pulsing with need.
I had met him at a party a few weeks ago, and we had flirted all night, exchanging winks and glances that made our connection undeniable. We had talked about everything from politics to our favourite childhood toys, finding common ground in our love for old-school video games. The attraction was mutual, but I knew better than to let things go too far too quickly.
But as the night wore on, and the drinks kept flowing, our flirtation turned into something more. We found a quiet corner of the room, away from prying eyes, and started talking about more intimate topics. He asked me about my favorite sexual experiences, and I told him about the time I had been with two guys at once, how they had pleasured me in ways I never thought possible.
He had listened intently, his eyes lighting up with each new detail. And then he had reached for my hand, placing it on his crotch, where I could feel his hard cock pulsing through the fabric of his pants. He had whispered in my ear that he wanted to do whatever I wanted him to, and inside, I knew that I was going to take him up on his offer.
I had led him back to my place, feeling the excitement build as we walked down the street hand in hand. We had stumbled through the door, fumbling with our clothes as we kissed and groped each other, desperate for more. And then he had turned me around, pushing me up against the wall and sliding his cock inside me from behind.
I had moaned into the pillow, feeling the fullness of him stretching me out, filling me up in ways I never thought possible. He had thrust hard and fast, pumping into me with a rhythm that made me gasp for breath. And then he had reached around, sliding his fingers over my clit as he continued to pound away at me, pushing me to the edge of orgasm.
And now, as I lay in bed, touching myself and thinking about that night, I could feel the warmth building between my legs again. I slid my fingers inside, feeling the wetness there as I thought about him and what he had done to me. And then I closed my eyes and imagined his cock sliding into me once more, filling me up with his hard length until we both came together in a blinding rush of pleasure.
I gasped and cried out as I felt the orgasm wash over me, my pussy clenching around my fingers as I came harder than I ever had before. And then I collapsed back onto the bed, panting and sweating, feeling the warmth of his memory lingering between my legs like a ghostly presence.
I knew that I would never forget that night, or the way he had made me feel. And I also knew that it wouldn’t be the last time we got together. Because once you’ve experienced the kind of pleasure that I had with him, there’s no turning back.
