Where Had We Fucked? free porn video
Where had we fucked? Where had we made love?
It’s been two years to the day since we last fucked. I liked to think that we used to make love, but it was pretty clear on that last occasion, and maybe the one or two times before, that we were just fucking. The days of you loving me were over, and you just let me into your bed to use me for your own pleasure.
Don’t get me wrong, I was fine with that too. But I always preferred it when we made love.
You know why. You know precisely why.
It’s been nearly two years since we last even spoke with each other. Things ended badly. It’s hard to be friends, then become lovers, and then try to go back to being just friends. Especially when one of the lovers is married. So things ended. And now, two years later, all that are left are memories.
You’ve moved on. You’re engaged now, in fact. I’ve moved on too. But I’ve never moved past the memories, and I wonder whether you, despite your silence for nearly two years, ever draw on those memories and allow them to come to the surface.
Or perhaps they are buried so deeply, that it is as though I never existed in your life.
Memories. That’s what I am going through today. On that anniversary of our last time. And instead of dwelling on the loss of love, I’ve been trying to remember where we fucked. Different places that all had meaning at the time. Sometimes the meaning was simply that we were both horny and we just fucked where we were. Sometimes the meaning was that we knew we would be together and the time was planned and special.
Every time we fucked – all those times were special. To me, at least.
I remember the first time.
In your basement. One week after we first crossed the line into intimacy, emotional at least but ending in a hug, and in that ensuing week we exchanged many words and made many plans, until it was agreed I would come over to your house at midnight. You had never owned a sex toy before, and I offered to buy one for you. You agreed, but only if I promised to use it on you. Cold feet. Fears. Logistics. My wife. Your daughter. When and how. Many words, many worries and many plans.
A plan was made and Saturday night came. You called. The fuses had blown in your house and it was dark and cold. You didn’t have a flashlight and needed someone to come over and help you get to the circuit box in the basement. A story? Plausible, and you were believed as you conveyed it to my wife over the phone, who then, in turn, sent me on my way to your house with a flashlight.
Lies. But all affairs are premised upon at least one lie.
You texted me as I drove to your house. The front door would be open, and I should just come downstairs to the basement, quietly, because your daughter was asleep upstairs. I arrived and did as I was told.
You waited for me downstairs, in the dark. It was dark by choice – the fuses were fine. I had your toy in a bag for you, the batteries already installed. How do we begin? I walked to you and we hugged. The same hug that we had shared a week before, but this time with the knowledge that it was a beginning and not an end.
We hugged and then we began. You undressed, facing away from me, and I saw your body, full and womanly in silhouette in the darkness. The curves that I had only imagined under your clothes now were revealed, and they were alluring and mysterious to me. I had come over to use a newly purchased vibrator on you, not to fuck you, and I was still only a friend and not yet a lover.
I wasn’t supposed to be getting turned on. I was supposed to help you out. But the gentleness of your body was overwhelming, and in the darkness, all was beautiful about you.
You turned around and lay down on your back, on the daybed in your basement. Your breasts were ripe, voluptuous in fact, and as you lay down, they spread sideways away from the middle of your chest, the ample flesh seemed to be flowing.
I knelt before you and saw that you were mostly shaved, with some growth returning. I pulled your toy out of the bag, and switched it on. A simple, six inch vibrator, shaped like a penis, flesh-colored. I turned it on to the lowest setting and brought it to the edge of insertion, at your labia, and then gently touched it to them.
I slowly moved the tip of the vibrator up and down your labia, picking up moisture from your apparent arousal, sliding it up and down until it was slick. And then I began to toy with your clit, which was prominent and erect, and then slide the tip up and down more along your slit, gently parting your lips with each pass.
Your body lay beneath my hands as they manipulated your new toy at the opening of your sex, and I watched as your breathing became deeper and your eyes closed, and you began to lose yourself in the moment.
Your hands reached down and took the toy from my hands, and you continued to mimic the motions I had been using on you. You spoke and said that I should get undressed too, seeing as you were lying naked in front of me. It was a logic that seemed flawless at the time, and as you slowly rubbed the tip of the vibrator along your wet labia, I undressed, and then knelt back down before you, naked and aroused.
You surrendered the toy back to my care, and I turned up the speed to the next setting, and began to probe with the tip between your lips and into your pink walls, slowly at first, but gradually increasing the tempo with which I penetrated you and then withdrew from you. My hand was the proxy for my own sex, and as I manipulated the flesh-colored phallus into your waiting and wet canal, it was as though it was my own sex that was entering you.
We both sensed it. The pretense of friends, and of me simply pleasuring you with a new toy, was shattered, and beneath that veneer lay the truth that we were two lovers who were engaged in the opening steps of a dance.
I plunged the toy deep within you and your body shuddered. Your body moved in sync with each penetration, and you became more aroused and wetter with each motion. Your hands reached up to your own breasts and pinched and tugged at your nipples. I took that as a sign that your arousal was not simply in your pussy, and I leaned forward from my position and took one of your nipples in my mouth, sucking hard and gently nibbling upon it. I bit slightly harder on your nipple, and you moaned loudly, and you conveyed to me your approval of being more aggressive with your breasts, an approval I would later have confirmed by your words.
I sucked hard and bit your nipple while fucking you with your toy, and I was able to adjust the speed setting to the highest level as I furiously and frantically plunged the hard artificial cock within you, twirling it and moving it to touch all of you inside.
I slid a finger into your ass too. I'm sure you must remember that, your first time ever being penetrated anally. I slid in one finger, slowly and gently as I fucked you with your toy, and that brought you right to the edge of your climax.
You came hard. The first time I saw you cum, you came hard and your body shook. Your breathing was rapid and shallow, and your body tensed and shook.
The first time we fucked, my cock was untouched, yet it was as though I had been inside of you all the time.
You wanted me in you, though, but we didn’t have any protection. That part of the night was unplanned. You said it was a safe time for you, and you wanted me inside of you, even for a moment, to feel my own cock within your walls. I lay down upon you and slid in, so easily after the treatment your pussy had just received, so wet, and yet once inside, you were so tight around me. Your flesh enveloped my cock as I slid inside of you and began to thrust into you. My own cock became the mimic, mirroring the motions of the vibrator, with my body moving so that my cock somehow touched all of you inside.
The bare flesh of your pussy against the bare flesh of my cock, as I joined with you, my body propped up on my elbows as I lay atop you, as my sex and your sex exchanged their own messages, the tightness of your pussy telling my cock to thrust harder, and the firmness of my cock reassuring your pussy that your pleasure was its only desire.
We didn’t speak in words as we fucked for the first time, but we looked at each other so closely, face to face, looking at each others’ eyes, and we both knew that what we were sharing was a watershed event for both of us. We were both mature adults, both of us were parents, both having been through many partners and through marriages, sharing ourselves sexually on many prior occasions, and yet this time was different. It was empowering and humbling at the same time, it was passionate and yet also so pure and innocent in its foundation. There was no selfishness, and though the word “love” was still months away from use between us, we both knew that we were not simply fucking but we had transcended to making love.
Your arousal fed my arousal, as I continued to rhythmically enter you and then pull back almost to the point of withdrawal. I could feel my orgasm begin, and even in the depth of our union, I knew I had to be responsible and pull out before I came. I did so, and you instinctively knew that I was close, and you quickly repositioned yourself to be able to take my cock into your mouth.
I lasted only a few seconds inside your lovely lips, as you continued the pace with which your pussy had been surrounding me, but now with your mouth, and I came with a freedom and ecstasy that I had never felt before. My body simply surrendered to you, and I came and you swallowed me. You swallowed me as if you had done it to me countless times before. It was the intimacy of two people who had known each other well, and not the fucking and sucking of strangers.
Our bodies relaxed and we held each other, naked and new, and yet so intimately joined. I wanted to tell you that I loved you, because even as friends I had loved you. But I knew that was not why we had been together that night. We were together because I made a promise to you to buy you a toy, and to use it on you. We had not planned to make love. I was afraid and did not want to scare you with such powerful words – with that single and powerful word - being so new to each other.
That was our first time fucking. It was also our first time making love. We would later write to each other in words that seemed so immediate and meaningful, and we would share our feelings about that experience. About our first time.
Memories. I have many of them. Maybe when you read this, if you read this, you’ll take issue with some of my recollections, and say that I am embellishing things and that my accuracy leaves much to be desired.
No worry. I have my memories, and one by one I can recall each time we fucked. I can recall where we fucked. I can recall all of them, as if they were yesterday, and not two years and more in the past.
Where had we fucked? Maybe over time I will write about each time, and try to preserve a memory which will likely fade and become less precise with time.
One thing won’t ever fade from my memory, and that is why we fucked. More precisely, I know why we made love. Two years of silence won’t change the reason why.
Plain and simple, I loved you.
And that is why we made love a second time. And a third. And so on. And it is why we fucked for the last time, even after things had gone sour.
I wonder if you have memories too. I wonder if you can remember where we fucked. If not, I wonder if my words help you remember where.
More importantly, I wonder if they help you remember why.
It’s been two years to the day since we last fucked. I liked to think that we used to make love, but it was pretty clear on that last occasion, and maybe the one or two times before, that we were just fucking. The days of you loving me were over, and you just let me into your bed to use me for your own pleasure.
Don’t get me wrong, I was fine with that too. But I always preferred it when we made love.
You know why. You know precisely why.
It’s been nearly two years since we last even spoke with each other. Things ended badly. It’s hard to be friends, then become lovers, and then try to go back to being just friends. Especially when one of the lovers is married. So things ended. And now, two years later, all that are left are memories.
You’ve moved on. You’re engaged now, in fact. I’ve moved on too. But I’ve never moved past the memories, and I wonder whether you, despite your silence for nearly two years, ever draw on those memories and allow them to come to the surface.
Or perhaps they are buried so deeply, that it is as though I never existed in your life.
Memories. That’s what I am going through today. On that anniversary of our last time. And instead of dwelling on the loss of love, I’ve been trying to remember where we fucked. Different places that all had meaning at the time. Sometimes the meaning was simply that we were both horny and we just fucked where we were. Sometimes the meaning was that we knew we would be together and the time was planned and special.
Every time we fucked – all those times were special. To me, at least.
I remember the first time.
In your basement. One week after we first crossed the line into intimacy, emotional at least but ending in a hug, and in that ensuing week we exchanged many words and made many plans, until it was agreed I would come over to your house at midnight. You had never owned a sex toy before, and I offered to buy one for you. You agreed, but only if I promised to use it on you. Cold feet. Fears. Logistics. My wife. Your daughter. When and how. Many words, many worries and many plans.
A plan was made and Saturday night came. You called. The fuses had blown in your house and it was dark and cold. You didn’t have a flashlight and needed someone to come over and help you get to the circuit box in the basement. A story? Plausible, and you were believed as you conveyed it to my wife over the phone, who then, in turn, sent me on my way to your house with a flashlight.
Lies. But all affairs are premised upon at least one lie.
You texted me as I drove to your house. The front door would be open, and I should just come downstairs to the basement, quietly, because your daughter was asleep upstairs. I arrived and did as I was told.
You waited for me downstairs, in the dark. It was dark by choice – the fuses were fine. I had your toy in a bag for you, the batteries already installed. How do we begin? I walked to you and we hugged. The same hug that we had shared a week before, but this time with the knowledge that it was a beginning and not an end.
We hugged and then we began. You undressed, facing away from me, and I saw your body, full and womanly in silhouette in the darkness. The curves that I had only imagined under your clothes now were revealed, and they were alluring and mysterious to me. I had come over to use a newly purchased vibrator on you, not to fuck you, and I was still only a friend and not yet a lover.
I wasn’t supposed to be getting turned on. I was supposed to help you out. But the gentleness of your body was overwhelming, and in the darkness, all was beautiful about you.
You turned around and lay down on your back, on the daybed in your basement. Your breasts were ripe, voluptuous in fact, and as you lay down, they spread sideways away from the middle of your chest, the ample flesh seemed to be flowing.
I knelt before you and saw that you were mostly shaved, with some growth returning. I pulled your toy out of the bag, and switched it on. A simple, six inch vibrator, shaped like a penis, flesh-colored. I turned it on to the lowest setting and brought it to the edge of insertion, at your labia, and then gently touched it to them.
I slowly moved the tip of the vibrator up and down your labia, picking up moisture from your apparent arousal, sliding it up and down until it was slick. And then I began to toy with your clit, which was prominent and erect, and then slide the tip up and down more along your slit, gently parting your lips with each pass.
Your body lay beneath my hands as they manipulated your new toy at the opening of your sex, and I watched as your breathing became deeper and your eyes closed, and you began to lose yourself in the moment.
Your hands reached down and took the toy from my hands, and you continued to mimic the motions I had been using on you. You spoke and said that I should get undressed too, seeing as you were lying naked in front of me. It was a logic that seemed flawless at the time, and as you slowly rubbed the tip of the vibrator along your wet labia, I undressed, and then knelt back down before you, naked and aroused.
You surrendered the toy back to my care, and I turned up the speed to the next setting, and began to probe with the tip between your lips and into your pink walls, slowly at first, but gradually increasing the tempo with which I penetrated you and then withdrew from you. My hand was the proxy for my own sex, and as I manipulated the flesh-colored phallus into your waiting and wet canal, it was as though it was my own sex that was entering you.
We both sensed it. The pretense of friends, and of me simply pleasuring you with a new toy, was shattered, and beneath that veneer lay the truth that we were two lovers who were engaged in the opening steps of a dance.
I plunged the toy deep within you and your body shuddered. Your body moved in sync with each penetration, and you became more aroused and wetter with each motion. Your hands reached up to your own breasts and pinched and tugged at your nipples. I took that as a sign that your arousal was not simply in your pussy, and I leaned forward from my position and took one of your nipples in my mouth, sucking hard and gently nibbling upon it. I bit slightly harder on your nipple, and you moaned loudly, and you conveyed to me your approval of being more aggressive with your breasts, an approval I would later have confirmed by your words.
I sucked hard and bit your nipple while fucking you with your toy, and I was able to adjust the speed setting to the highest level as I furiously and frantically plunged the hard artificial cock within you, twirling it and moving it to touch all of you inside.
I slid a finger into your ass too. I'm sure you must remember that, your first time ever being penetrated anally. I slid in one finger, slowly and gently as I fucked you with your toy, and that brought you right to the edge of your climax.
You came hard. The first time I saw you cum, you came hard and your body shook. Your breathing was rapid and shallow, and your body tensed and shook.
The first time we fucked, my cock was untouched, yet it was as though I had been inside of you all the time.
You wanted me in you, though, but we didn’t have any protection. That part of the night was unplanned. You said it was a safe time for you, and you wanted me inside of you, even for a moment, to feel my own cock within your walls. I lay down upon you and slid in, so easily after the treatment your pussy had just received, so wet, and yet once inside, you were so tight around me. Your flesh enveloped my cock as I slid inside of you and began to thrust into you. My own cock became the mimic, mirroring the motions of the vibrator, with my body moving so that my cock somehow touched all of you inside.
The bare flesh of your pussy against the bare flesh of my cock, as I joined with you, my body propped up on my elbows as I lay atop you, as my sex and your sex exchanged their own messages, the tightness of your pussy telling my cock to thrust harder, and the firmness of my cock reassuring your pussy that your pleasure was its only desire.
We didn’t speak in words as we fucked for the first time, but we looked at each other so closely, face to face, looking at each others’ eyes, and we both knew that what we were sharing was a watershed event for both of us. We were both mature adults, both of us were parents, both having been through many partners and through marriages, sharing ourselves sexually on many prior occasions, and yet this time was different. It was empowering and humbling at the same time, it was passionate and yet also so pure and innocent in its foundation. There was no selfishness, and though the word “love” was still months away from use between us, we both knew that we were not simply fucking but we had transcended to making love.
Your arousal fed my arousal, as I continued to rhythmically enter you and then pull back almost to the point of withdrawal. I could feel my orgasm begin, and even in the depth of our union, I knew I had to be responsible and pull out before I came. I did so, and you instinctively knew that I was close, and you quickly repositioned yourself to be able to take my cock into your mouth.
I lasted only a few seconds inside your lovely lips, as you continued the pace with which your pussy had been surrounding me, but now with your mouth, and I came with a freedom and ecstasy that I had never felt before. My body simply surrendered to you, and I came and you swallowed me. You swallowed me as if you had done it to me countless times before. It was the intimacy of two people who had known each other well, and not the fucking and sucking of strangers.
Our bodies relaxed and we held each other, naked and new, and yet so intimately joined. I wanted to tell you that I loved you, because even as friends I had loved you. But I knew that was not why we had been together that night. We were together because I made a promise to you to buy you a toy, and to use it on you. We had not planned to make love. I was afraid and did not want to scare you with such powerful words – with that single and powerful word - being so new to each other.
That was our first time fucking. It was also our first time making love. We would later write to each other in words that seemed so immediate and meaningful, and we would share our feelings about that experience. About our first time.
Memories. I have many of them. Maybe when you read this, if you read this, you’ll take issue with some of my recollections, and say that I am embellishing things and that my accuracy leaves much to be desired.
No worry. I have my memories, and one by one I can recall each time we fucked. I can recall where we fucked. I can recall all of them, as if they were yesterday, and not two years and more in the past.
Where had we fucked? Maybe over time I will write about each time, and try to preserve a memory which will likely fade and become less precise with time.
One thing won’t ever fade from my memory, and that is why we fucked. More precisely, I know why we made love. Two years of silence won’t change the reason why.
Plain and simple, I loved you.
And that is why we made love a second time. And a third. And so on. And it is why we fucked for the last time, even after things had gone sour.
I wonder if you have memories too. I wonder if you can remember where we fucked. If not, I wonder if my words help you remember where.
More importantly, I wonder if they help you remember why.
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