The NeverEnding Love Sex Story

 It Has To Be Him

We met in college and it was a romance sex story from the start. There really wasn’t any other way our paths would cross. He was the classic high school/ college jock; a real Tom Brady type. I was the alternative-art-English-nerd who listened to Danzig with Wednesday Addams vibes. Neither of us were single but the energy between us was electric. Underneath the flirtatious banter and teasing a slow burn of volcanic desire was building. I took every opportunity to be near him, touch him, hold his gaze. The moment of truth came the night of our class graduation banquet.

After all the partying, he and I walked to a local fast-food joint and sat on a bench. It was as though no one in the world existed but the two of us. I laid my head on his shoulder and he looked down at me. I could barely breathe… panting… my heart was pounding. But we couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let go and be swept up by that volcano of love and sex. So, the moment past. And we went our separate ways.

Two years went by before our paths crossed again. But I hadn’t forgotten him. In fact, I had spent the last two years fantasizing about what would have happened if I’d pull his mouth close that night and kissed him. If I slipped my panties off under my dress and straddled his lap on that bench. Kissing his neck while I took his shirt off. It wouldn’t matter if we’d been caught. Feeling his hard cock deep inside my wet and swollen pussy was all that mattered. Nothing else could make me cum. I’d replay what I wish I’d done that night every time I masturbated, every time I fucked anyone. It was always his cock inside me. The love sex story we never had. Or so I thought.

A Summer Romance Sex Story

Over the summer, I went to a block party festival with friends. It was a million degrees out so everyone was basically half-naked. I was wearing a pink bralette, which showed off the tan lines on my 32DD tits, with a pair of cutoff denim shorts, cut so high my ass cheeks were hanging out. In between concerts, my friends and I walked to the beer garden. And that’s where I locked eyes with him.

Near the bar with a couple buddies. As Tom Brady as ever, I swear I came the moment I saw him. He pulled me into his arms and gave me the strongest, sexiest hug I’d ever felt. And I knew right then. I’d never let him go again. We’d get our love sex story after all. We caught a couple more concerts with our friends. The whole time, I stood with my back pressed up against his chest and his arms around my waist, his hands resting against my bare stomach.

His buddies said they wanted to hit up another bar after the festival but I couldn’t stand it any longer. And neither could he. We left the festival hand-in-hand; laughing, teasing, groping. We’d been walking for about five minutes when he stopped and looked at me. That same look from two years ago. Panting and heart pounding, he pulled me in and kissed me.

A Happy Ending

I couldn’t tell you how we found another public bench but the next thing I remember is taking my pink bralette off (my shorts and panties were already off), straddled on his lap, with his perfect hard cock pushing up against my pussy. There was juice all over my inner thighs I was so wet. After ripping his shirt off, I put my hands on either side of his neck and pulled him for the longest and most passionate kiss. He slid his cock in as I popped my ass. I came three times before we left the bench that night.

I can’t tell you how many times he’s made me cum since (I’ve lost count at this point). But I swear, every time is harder and wetter than the time before. I guess that’s what happens when you get your own special story with someone, a special love and romance sex story.

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