Just add three years

I recently reconnected with a man I had sex with three years ago as part of what was not quite a threesome. I guess the better description for the scenario was cuckold play without the humiliation and degradation tactics. I was dating Jake, the man behind some of this blog’s more popular stories including Stuck between a rock and hard on and Bend over and say fuck.

This cuckold-style play involved inviting a stranger, let’s call him Kyle, over to play one New Year’s Eve afternoon. We were feeling festive, it was hot outside, a storm was brewing, and after some chatting we invited him over to fuck me in front of Jake.

There was brief small talk before we all made our way to the bedroom. My recollection of it is somewhat hazy, but Kyle and I fucked on the end of the bed while Jake watched sitting up by the pillows. I remember Kyle was hard and thick and it felt amazing. Our fucking was relatively quick and afterwards, he watched Jake fuck me, then he left.

That night, Jake and I went out for NYE and we messaged Kyle to come meet us and fuck me again, but it didn’t eventuate. We may have exchanged a few messages after that but nothing came out of it and we lost touch.

Fast forward to a few months ago, about the start of the latest lockdown, and Kyle and I matched on Tinder. We started chatting and while it was OK (good spelling and punctuation), I wasn’t finding it super exciting.

Last week, he started messaging me again. He was keen to see me and I agreed only if we had an actual date this time. Lockdown was coming to an end and I had recently deleted Tinder.

While a date wasn’t set, we chatted each day here and there and I friend requested him on Facebook so I could get my stalk on. I was surprised by what I found – we shared values in politics, social justice, the environment … he even had a photo of a table he’d built with a beer on it and yep, we liked the same beer. He had hobbies and passions and a well-rounded profile that made me want to know more. I was actually looking forward to seeing him again now.

Last Sunday afternoon he messaged and, because I had literally just finished reading my book (Boy Swallows Universe by Trent Dalton – do recommend by the way), I got into the conversation. I suggested we talk on the phone instead.

Yes, we had met before but it was years ago and our conversation then was limited. I couldn’t remember what his voice sounded like or much about him apart from that he was an architect so I was very surprised to hear his voice at the end of the phone. It didn’t sound at all like his face – like when you see a picture of a radio announcer and it’s not like you imagined.

But it was a good voice, sexy, I liked it. And the conversation was easy, effortless. So easy that it went for 5.5 hours. We each had to take several pee breaks and we only hung up because we both were hungry as it was well past dinner time. Suddenly, I really wanted to see Kyle again. I was looking forward to our date in the near future.

Tuesday afternoon I was at the hairdresser’s – yeah, be jealous, I got an appointment on the second day out of lockdown – and he messaged me asking when I was coming around. I reminded him I was getting my hair done which I wasn’t giving up for dick. He told me to come around after, even if it was later.

I embraced the spontaneity, I would have good hair after all, and agreed but told him I still expected to be fed and we agreed to order in. We drank red wine and ordered Indian and sat on his lounge talking. Fuck, it felt nice to be out talking, socialising, in the world (albeit in his living room), laughing, hearing new stories. Everything about it just felt good.

I stayed the night through no real design. We’d drunk a bottle of wine and it seemed pretty natural for me to stay. By the time we went upstairs to his bedroom in Cooks Hill, my pussy was wet and I wanted to fuck him.

During our many texts, he’d shared with me all the details he could remember of that first time we met. He recalled more than I did and said he’d never forgotten the way my pussy felt around his cock. We were both keen to see if the memory lived up to the reality and when I finally had him inside me, I had to agree he had a fantastic memory.

He described it as being “a perfect fit ”, like each was made for the other and we fucked hard and passionately twice that night. We fell asleep to the sound of rain and during those first night sharing a bed toss and turns, we fucked again lit by the streetlights outside.

In the morning, I had to get up earlier than I would have liked to meet an electrician doing some work at my house. We fucked more slowly this time and I came riding on top of him, although he didn’t come.

A quick shower and I was out of the door. I kissed him goodbye and told him I’d see him in another three years.

On my drive home, he text me to say it wouldn’t be three years.