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That man, that figure of self possessed surety, was going to destroy her for any man ever, and she had no idea.

While standing really still, his hand moved up her spine, the fingers tangled in the vastness of the curly hair, he pulled them. It hurt her.

It assured her of his grip. As she stood there, face up towards the ceiling, all she wanted, all her loins seem to want was his lips on hers, his tongue dipping in her mouth.

And he finally did. It made her wet. Moist with anticipation. Anticipation of the unknown. Without a warning, he scooped her up. She could feel his heart racing as she dangled from his arms, head against the chest.

It assured her that she was not alone in this madness. He propped her against the bay window, and slowly knelt down in front of her.

With a jerk he parted her legs and with another tore apart the piece of cloth that hid her soul. A single touch and she loosened up.

A single lick and everything inside her tightened. He pulled her closer and she slid deeper into the seat, possibly as deep as his tongue ventured inside her vagina.

She pulled his hair as every sense inside her tingled. He nibbled softly at her clitoris and made circles around it with his tongue, and gently run his hands up and down her thighs.

She felt aroused and calm at the same time. The desire to have a stronger and harder tool in place of his tongue was growing inside her. And just at that moment he stopped — abruptly.

And without so much as a kiss, he pulled down his pants. With a single, forceful thrust of his hips he was buried deep inside her.

An excruciating pain shot through her — there was nothing pleasurable about it. The pleasure came after the third thrust.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, one hand on his ass, and another holding on to the edge of the window. There were times she thought she would scream and the whole world would hear her — or at least the waiter.

The intensity of the situation made her forget everything — where she was, where her underwear was, why she was letting this stranger fill her up with what could only be described as a magic wand, she forgot herself, she forgot her shame.

She screamed. He muffled her with one hand and pulled her hair with another. It was a warning, and she understood perfectly.

She took his hand and placed it on her neck. But she was ready for her punishment. Maybe it was your first time ever, your most recent tryst, or that one-night stand you can't forget.

Either way, it can be really satisfying to reminisce about an uplifting intimate experience that was particularly memorable.

Thinking back on those experiences is not only fun, but it can also be interesting to notice what's had a hand in shaping your current sexual identity and preferences.

Hearing women reveal their most unforgettably good sexual experience makes it hard not to feel real warm and fuzzy.

It's normal for it to take most folks at least a little trial and error to figure out exactly what turns them on in the bedroom — but once you do, getting it right can feel so epic.

TBH, reliving the best sex you've ever had can make the tingles come on strong. Even if the person you had the experience with has long been forgotten, the sensual memories you share can legit last a lifetime.

Brought to you by the ladies of Reddit, here are some of their sex stories that were just too amazing to forget.

Sometimes fully giving yourself to the experience with your partner is all you need for a mind-blowing romp.

Sexual and relationship psychotherapist Kate Moyle has advice for how to make that happen. Engle told Elite Daily, "Sexual compatibility occurs when two or more bodies and minds match up during a sexual experience.

You're super into the things this person does to your body: the way they kiss, their smell, their sexual technique. You have chemistry, and things are hot.

It means there is a spark. Everything sort of works. PSA: If you feel like your partner isn't pleasing you the way you'd like to be pleased, don't be afraid to kindly let them know.

Feeling sexually satisfied is so important, and it's surprising how much things can improve with just a little communication.

How pretending to be a horse helped me explore my own humanity. By Jera Brown. By Dayna Troisi. There's a lot to learn about yourself when you take your clothes off….

By Kaitlin Menza. By Gigi Engle. Sep 13, I innocently assumed that all of that work to remain chaste would pay off with a hot, passionate sex life after we had finally said "I ….

By Lauren Meeks. Advertisement - Continue Reading Below. Aug 28, One writer traveled the world to talk to women and find out. By Jo Piazza.

Aug 18, By Nicole Karlis. Aug 14,

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How it went down: I was very drunk and it happened while we were watching Castle , so I stared into Nathan Fillion's eyes on the screen over his shoulder while he got off and I wondered if all sex was really this boring.

How it went down: Backstory - I'm a nerd, and was a bit of a chubster in high school, so I didn't date. After I graduated, I stopped talking to everyone but my best friend from school, got hired by the USDA after a successful apprenticeship, and went to community college.

I had a bit of a breakdown from lack of social interaction, and over the course of a year dropped out of college, did a fair amount of drugs mostly pot , lost 60 lbs, became a vegetarian, quit my science job and started working at the local co-op.

I met my first boyfriend at our weekly Dungeons and Dragons session. We'd been dating for all of two weeks, and had several awkward fumblings where he couldn't stay hard for the condom and would roll over to sulk, and I was getting fed up.

He was a virgin too, but he wasn't the only frustrated party in the bed, and I was trying to be supportive but he was having no part of it.

I was at the end of my rope, and called my friend to go hang out and bitch. I still lived at home, but she was married and lived with her husband and two kids, so I'd stay at their place frequently.

When I got over there, I was greeted with a large bottle of Boone's farm and a bong hit just for me. I griped it out, got ripped, and we started talking about solving my problem.

She and her husband had made it quite clear before that he was available if I was interested, and I'd engaged in kisses and fumbling with him but nothing more.

We had an unusual friendship, to say the least. At this point, I was super frustrated, and the alcohol was changing my attitude on the matter from "Isn't this odd?

Her husband came home from work to find a plan hatched and two tipsy girls with devious grins. He was game, so we took the party to the bedroom.

Even fortified with liquid courage, I was nervous, but I really really wanted to fuck. There was some kissing between the three of us while clothes came off.

I remember sitting on his face kissing her while she rode him for a little bit I didn't want to go first because I'm a dork.

I was on my back when he entered me for the first time. He was big, but it didn't hurt because I'd been masturbating for years. Honestly, it was a bit underwhelming at first.

It totally got better though, and we went through a few positions until I ended up on top of him. I didn't come, but I got pretty damned close. The next day I broke up with my boyfriend.

I didn't tell him what had happened the night before. I never slept with my friend or her husband again, and we drifted apart eventually. It was nearly a year before I had sex again.

My second boyfriend was awesome, and we fucked like nerdy rabbits. I wouldn't change a thing, except maybe dumping the first boyfriend sooner. He was a tool.

How it went down: I attended a small liberal arts college in the south, and I ended up pledging a fraternity my freshman year. He was the president of that fraternity and three years older than me.

Once a year the chapter would have this long, drawn out ritual that ended with the incoming pledges being assigned a "big brother," an upperclassman in the fraternity who would take the younger pledge under his wing.

After the ceremony it was tradition for the big brothers to take their "little brother" back to the fraternity house to drink and whatnot.

At one point in the night, we ended up going to his room to get some ice, which somehow turned into a slightly drunken awkward kiss that transitioned into slightly drunken awkward man-on-man action.

Now she's my wife. I didn't discover this till later, but she's three years older than me. How it went down: She joined the company about a year after I did, I was in and out of the office a lot, because my job was mobile, so I'd stop and chat with her whenever I went by.

She was fucking gorgeous, huge tits and whip-smart and funny. Me, being at the time, a fat, bespectacled nerd with a serious self-confidence problem, immediately thought "She's too good for me" and masturbated furiously to her image from afar but never made any moves on her for months.

But we talked, laughed and, when my job gave me long breaks, I would keep her company while she wrangled the phones. Conversations soon led us to discover that we had the same career plans we both wanted to be cops and just when I had barely wrangled up the gusto to ask "maybe we should train together some time?

The run was scheduled for friday night, at the university campus next to her house. I got lost. Like, really lost. We were supposed to meet at 9pm we both got off work late and I didn't get there till closer to She was good-natured about it, and off we went, running around the track at the university.

At this point, I really didn't notice that her eyes were pretty much boring a hole into the crotch of my running shorts. And I really didn't pick up on the three times, she got super close to me and asked me whether I'd had any girlfriends no , or had anybody kissed me no or whether I had anyone I had a crush on at the office her, but I wasn't going to admit that straight out, so no.

To say I was an oblivious sap would be an understatement. After the run, she brought be back to her place, which was really a basement room she was renting, and fed me pie pumpkin, this was Thanksgiving weekend , and basically, now that I have the benefit of hindsight , chatted me up for two hours straight, inching closer and closer to me as the minutes passed she had started out on the opposite couch, but then by the time things came to a head, she was sitting at my feet with her head in my lap.

It wasn't until this point that I realized what she was after, and to say I had no idea what to do would be an understatement.

I remember staring awkwardly away, trying not to burn holes in her cleavage, making vague "I'm not sure about this Thankfully, I was in the hands of somebody on a mission, who was not even going to let the vague discomforted of a horny, unsophisticated year-old virgin stand in her way.

I later found out that this mission was due to the fact that she and the other receptionists had been speculating on the size of my penis for months.

This is when I discovered, low and behold, I was good at touching. Watch lesbian porn, everyone, they are good teachers.

Either way, she initiated everything, from pulling my clothes off to climbing on top of me. I was too lost in a state of delighted misbelief to do anything useful.

I seriously thought I was dreaming. Up until, mid-act, my brother calls - and me, making dumb virgin moves - actually picked up.

Hot beautiful girl raises eyebrows. I drove home shortly after, wondering if she had slipped something into my pie. How it went down: For the longest time I couldn't figure out how to use a tampon so I went to the school nurse and had her show me how.

Then I got overzealous and decided to start using a Diva cup. My boyfriend was hanging out with me while I was trying to work it in.

I couldn't get it in and was frustrated and on the verge of tears when I decided to have him help me stretch out. It was completely unromantic but he was totally into it and then neither of us orgasmed because I didn't need us to orgasm in order to get the Diva cup in.

Poor guy. Things got better later of course. Location: Air. I couldn't afford anything else and was already in a shitty apartment in a shitty neighborhood after being told I could not stay with my parents for a summer between college semesters.

The room was incredibly tiny. It was also in a hot city in the South in the dead of summer, and we did not have air conditioning.

All of this will play into the saga. How it went down: He was my boyfriend I'm a girl , and also a virgin. Having sex on an air bed is at best a calculated risk, and at worst a complete and utter shitshow.

This was the latter. Both of us were virgins, and he got a little Because of the previously mentioned heat, we were both gruesomely sweaty this will come into play later.

We struggled a little bit with the condom and subsequent insertion, as novices are wont to do, and he started going to town.

He must have thought that the more athletic the thrust and the wider its range of motion, the better the sex.

So the air bed was rockin and rollin, when suddenly he thought it was a good idea to try to put his hands under me during a particularly hearty thrust.

We lost our balance a bit and shifted to the edge of the bed, which as any experienced air bed user will know, caused it to tip over completely, ejecting us from the bed.

I heard his cries of anguish and stood to help him, but because his body had tracked sweat across the floor, I slipped, fell back on top of the air bed, and popped it completely.

It didn't hurt for me at all, and we went on to have a pretty fulfilling sexual experience together. At his place. On a real bed. Anyway, I love trotting out this story when sharing worst experiences with sex.

Age: I was 16, he was 17, and I felt like a goddamn badass. Location: Rural Pennsyltucky, against the upstairs wall on his divorced mother's condo's hallway, and because she wasn't really a person, it was lined with white shag carpet, and why this matters will soon be clear.

How it went down: I was an emerging poet who loved and dated a boy for over a year just because he was the lead singer in a band and this is what's more important wrote the lyrics to all their songs.

His mom—a local public high school English teacher who wanted desperately to be a writer, and with whom I hoped to connect so sweetly with that we'd go see Charles Dickens' plays together at Christmas, both of us wrapped up in scarves she'd knitted, or else we'd take bus trips to New York City just to smell the public libraries—hated me.

Luckily, she hated Pennsylvania more, but before leaving for a week-long vacation in the Florida Keys with her overweight Match. To this day, I've never been able to find these condoms in a store again, which means that obviously way back in , his mother must've ordered them specially from an online porn shop, which is great fun to think about!

Chris and I were, as you might well guess, completely disgusted and freaked out, but we were also seventeen, so after striping one another bare, we began to have sex the only way we knew how: the way they do it in porn, with my back pushed against a wall, my legs wrapped around his waist, and Chris thrusting anxiously into me with unparalleled awkwardness and noise.

I began to bleed—just a little at first, and "Keep going," he said, "don't worry! We stopped having sex to try and clean the carpet, but the wet paper towel only smeared it and made it worse, and then we decided, Well, fuck it then, and resumed our former position, except now Chris' hands were bloody and wet from all the failed cleaning and we smeared it all over the wall.

I came, which is perhaps what's most surprising here, but we spent the whole rest of the week repainting the hall, scrubbing the carpet with every kind of "sit and wait" foaming cleanser available from our small-town hardware store, and every time I was over, we'd return to the hallway to neurotically examine the spot from different angles and in different light.

We didn't date a whole lot longer—that kinda push the kibosh on sexiness—and his mother has since moved, but I can't help but think about that hallway whenever I visit home.

Snuck out of parents house a week before my 15th birthday. Walked to the party in the surfer-laden suburbs of Lake Forest yep, the OC baby!

Was wearing thin peach top with black bra underneath, and short black 80s skirt that had those 3 ruffles tiered down it.

Was blonde. Was very blonde due to Sun-In. Was tan. Was pretty fucking cute. Was being very brave because I hung out with punks, losers, dorks and retards but I really wanted to lose my virginity to a boy based solely on his looks, since I couldn't find one who was worth my time, and I was fucking horny living among all those pliable sun-bleached-brained boys.

Sauntered around surfer boy party looking for boy to fuck. Wanted sex unbelievably badly would possibly explode upon contact.

Girls looked at me knowing that I'd come alone, I didn't like any of them, it wasn't my scene, and I was invading their boy cliques.

Held beer in keg cup and eyed up every last one of them fearlessly, I respected none of them and I walked as if in a force field, eyes roving like the Terminator's.

There were 4 boys that all girls wanted. They were the shining stars of El Toro High School. They were known as the Grommets, like the fish that played in the ocean in the day and fucked on the beach at night.

They were golden. The sun kissed their eyebrows that flickered with their confidence. More than any of them I wanted a boy named Andy.

It stuns me, I must have just forgot his last name over the last year or two. Maybe I'll remember it. Something with an S.

I wanted him so bad and he'd never known I existed. I didn't want to know him, I just wanted to fuck him. So I never approached him or talked to him at school.

I just walked by and lusted. His best friend was Mark Gotro. Mark was hot, he was a grommet. The four of them were huddled together near the keg and I listened as I pumped more beer in my cup.

Andy was explaining that his goal for the evening was Really Big Tits. That's all he wanted, all he cared about. He was a year older and had been fucking for what I imagined as ages.

This killed me because I was a budding B-cup back then. It also reduced my inhibitions of approaching them, knowing I had no chance. So I introduced myself and looked round at them, these fifteen and sixteen year old kings.

We chatted and Paul, the least cute one of the four, but still quite fuckable, seemed rather interested. United States. Type keyword s to search.

By Jillian Anthony. How pretending to be a horse helped me explore my own humanity. By Jera Brown. By Dayna Troisi. There's a lot to learn about yourself when you take your clothes off….

By Kaitlin Menza. By Gigi Engle. Sep 13, I innocently assumed that all of that work to remain chaste would pay off with a hot, passionate sex life after we had finally said "I ….

By Lauren Meeks. Advertisement - Continue Reading Below. Aug 28, One writer traveled the world to talk to women and find out. By Jo Piazza.

Aug 18, By Nicole Karlis. Aug 14, And why it's more important to be having these discussions than ever. Aug 8, By Elizabeth Weiss. Aug 4, Aug 3,

But she Onlyblowjob ready for her punishment. I wanted him so bad and he'd never known I Publicagent e329. We lost our balance Garabatoz bit and shifted to the edge of the bed, which as any experienced air bed user will know, caused it to tip over completely, ejecting us Big butt mistress the bed. She screamed out again. By Krista McHarden.

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