That Time I Fucked a Stranger

2 min read

I wasn’t thinking.

Why is that phrase most frequently uttered with regret?

I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.

In order to be a responsible and caring human being, your actions should be carried out with a moderate amount of thought. Yes, agreed.


Would it be fair to say that sometimes thinking is the antithesis to acting? Perhaps there are some instances in which a natural action would never have occurred if a thought process had preceded it. How many actions do you miss out on because your thinking never led you there?

It was December of last year. It was early in the morning and I was horny. Lying comfortably under the warm covers, I decided to scroll through my phone with flirtatious eyes. I came across a gentleman whose social media presence was that of celebrity status. Hundreds of pictures to scroll through, but only a few I needed to see. His body was perfection, his smile was genuine and I was intrigued.

“This man knows how to fuck,” was my first thought.

My second, “I need to fuck him.”

I put my phone down on my chest and closed my eyes for a moment. I suppose most people would pour some thought into this next sequence of events, but for whatever reason I chose not to in this moment. I sent him a direct message within a minute. I complimented him and made my goal transparent. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my 30 years on earth it would be that no matter what you are doing, do it earnestly. Otherwise, what’s the point?

He replied. A random stranger I only knew from digital photos and a brief exchange of words was inviting me over to his place to fuck. I must admit while a small part of me believed I was on my way to becoming a unsolved murder mystery special (where all they have are text messages to an untraceable number and blurry security cam footage of me leaving my apartment at 9:02 pm, never to surface again)…

I continued to choose the path of not thinking, and that is what led me to his front door.

His house looked nothing like you would expect. It was quaint and felt like a home. He was already proving my first impressions correct. There was more to this man than a perfect physique.

I continued to think less.

I cut off the small talk and asked him where his bedroom was. He led me there. I followed. He lay on his bed and I nervously approached. He was intimidating in person. I briefly wondered how many women had made him cum and how large breasted they were. It was at this point I distinctly remember thinking, “Who the fuck cares Ally, just blow him.”

And so I did.

I lay on top of him as he unwrapped the towel from his waist. I wanted to shove it all in my mouth right then, but I knew I had to take my time. His slow enjoyment was my fantasy. I preyed upon his cock, teasing his thighs and pelvis with my tongue. I licked his balls and pressed my tongue into the base of his cock until I felt him squirm.

Mmmm I can still taste him.

I closed my eyes as I stroked his cock with my left hand and rubbed my tongue along the tip. I wanted him to feel my desire for his body sincerely. I opened my eyes to catch glimpses of his face. I wrapped my hands around his body, pulling them down his chest. I felt every inch of him and I wanted more. My desire for making him cum only with my mouth was all I wanted.

“I’m going to cum,” he muttered under his breath.

Those words rung in my mind as I continued. I grabbed his ass with my hands and squeezed as I choked myself on his cock. I hope he felt it like I did.

He came audibly and I reached down to lick it off his stomach. I sat up and put my clothes back on. I moved towards the door of his bedroom quickly. He kissed me on the forehead, goodbye.

I can confidently say that when you converse with a language of actions, your experiences intensify. Sometimes simply leaving the words out of your head is all it takes to take it all in.

I’m not sorry I wasn’t thinking.

Leave a Reply