Full of Surprises

The memory of the weight of his body pressed against hers would enter her head at the most inopportune times.

She’d often find herself thinking about that night on the train during her commute to work. Visions of them entwined in each others bodies, dripping with sweat, would come to her while she was brushing her teeth or waiting for the kettle to boil for her 5th cup of coffee that day.

She could be eating her lunch or taking a shower and suddenly be transported back to his bedroom. She could be in line waiting to pay for her weekly grocery shopping at her local supermarket or waiting to get through to the bank on the phone and suddenly, out of nowhere, she would feel the tingling sensation his tongue had left on her hardened nipples.

It really didn’t matter what she was doing, memories of the night they'd shared together always seemed to find a way to haunt her.

She often smiled to herself when it happened. She remembered how much this unassuming man had surprised her. She blushed as she recalled the first thoughts that flashed through her mind as she caught sight of his cock. She had actually been disappointed. It was thinner than she expected. Granted it was long, but it was thin. At the time she was sure she’d be left wanting. Almost resigned to it in fact. Still they were here now and she wanted to fuck him.

Lately, she’d been through a kind of sexual awakening. A common story for a woman of her age. She’d been with the same man for a long time and was from a generation of woman that still hadn’t fully come to terms with their sexuality. That’s not to say she didn’t enjoy sex, but a sexually aware woman was still considered to be a promiscuous one. Her relationship had ended just as she felt she was reaching her sexual peak and she wanted to explore it. So she did.

She began by exploring herself, by really getting to know her own body. Not by cuming during a quick climax in the secrecy of a shower. But by taking her time and enjoying her body. Loving it and treating it as she would if she was pleasing a man between her legs. She would delicately trace the fingers of one hand over an exposed nipple while reaching down to caress her clitoris with the other. She would allow the sensation to build and build, becoming wetter and wetter before allowing a single finger to slip gently inside herself. She enjoyed the delayed gratification of taking herself to the very edge of orgasm before retreating and slowing the pace. She would fuck herself in front of the mirror, allowing what she saw to intensify the feeling. She knew herself, she knew what to do to make herself cum and she enjoyed it.

But the trouble was that as much as she knew which of her buttons served her best, nothing could beat penetration and the weight of a man on top of her. She’d slept with a couple of men with varying degrees of satisfaction. There were plenty that were good fucks but she was looking for a great one. So when he revealed his slender, stiffened prick, she had been momentarily disappointed.

All that changed when she climbed on top of that underwhelming looking cock. The moment he entered her, she was there. From the moment she began to ride him they glided easily into a natural rhythm and she felt every bit of him. It was incredible. It must’ve only lasted a few minutes but it was some of the best minutes she’d ever had in her life. They fucked the way she’d been longing to be fucked. The ways she needed to be fucked. They’d had sex a couple more times that night, and each time he’d satisfied her more than she thought any man could.