The Kitchen Karaoke Incident - Sex Stories

The Kitchen Karaoke Incident

It had been the best sex of my life, which is saying quite a lot. Like always, he had me so fucking horny that my sexual nectar was dripping down my legs before he’d even touched me. My then-boyfriend didn’t maul me, pawing at me in some feeble attempt to make me horny. Instead, he seduced my mind, enraptured my imagination, and stoked the fires of my libido until I was humping everything in sight.

By the time his fingers touched my steamy, quivering flesh, I had been on the verge of a spontaneous orgasm. His hands, fingers, teeth, lips, tongue, and body played a symphony on my body—anything within reach becoming an impromptu sex toy—until I could only writhe in ecstasy, begging to be brutally fucked. What followed was a soul-rending, eye-opening experience. I gave myself to him, utterly and completely, my soul torn asunder by passion and reconstituted into a being of raw, primal passion, receiving pleasures I hadn’t even dared dream of. The sex was so mind-blowing that I woke up, three times, in the middle of the night and fingered myself, reliving what had just transpired.

I was more than off the rails for him. He possessed my mind, owned my very soul, and stoked the fires of passion within me into a raging volcano. Every moment with him was a whirlwind of horny romance, sultry seduction, and amazing adventure. Although I was quickly approaching forty years old, I felt truly alive for the first time in my life. Despite some Krystal-caused rocky moments, I’d ...

... maneuvered my way into his life, slutted my way into his bedroom, and finagled enough comfort to be invited to stay at his place, whenever I felt like it. I wanted to stay at his place more than I’d ever wanted anything, before.

He had to leave early for work, leaving me alone in his house. I didn’t mind, as my head was in the clouds, and my fingers were in my pussy. To me, it was a taste of the life I could have, provided I wasn’t my usual, stupid bitch self and fucked everything up. Few people, men or women, know exactly how to unleash a woman’s truly wild side. He did, and I loved every second of it. In my mind, as I pranced around his house, snooping out of curiosity, he was my one and only. He treated me like a goddess and an equal, appreciated me for who I am instead of just my award-winning ass, and he fucked me into oblivion. If only I could make it permanent.

That thought, making things permanent between us, both consumed and possessed me. Crawling down that hopeful, emotional rabbit hole regressed me from a strong, independent woman into a blabbering, silly, teenager. I’d lost all self-control and was tumbling through the ether without any bearing. I was in his house, eating the food he’d prepared for me off of his plates, with his belongings all around me. Given my emotional state—finally being happy—and my mindset, it seemed both proper and natural that I indulged my whimsies.

My first hour was spent masturbating in his bed, the same bed that I had recently been ...