I was standing in line at my favorite fancy donut place trying to decide if I was going to get my usual (cream filled with maple frosting—objectively the best of the standard donuts, obviously) or go for something more adventurous (it was the middle of summer, so the peach glazed was also looking pretty tempting), when the volume of the (already fairly loud) shop increased significantly. I turned from my contemplation of the display case to see an attractive young woman wearing a romper, sash, and tiara walk in, followed by roughly half a dozen more women in rompers. Oh great, a bachelorette party. So much for a relatively peaceful breakfast spent with the 3 Cs of a perfect Saturday morning: Cream-filled donuts, Coffee, and Crossword puzzles (yes, other redditors might post here to brag about their sexual exploits or penis size; I smugly mention solving NYT Saturday puzzles—in pen). I do a double take though when I see the last bridesmaid to walk in.

Kelly and I dated over a decade ago for a little more than a year immediately after college and separated mostly because she got a new job and I went to grad school, putting an unmanageable distance between us. Shortly thereafter she met a guy, guy married, had a kid, got cheated on, and got a divorce. I'd completely lost track of her shortly after that as I slowly stopped using Facebook and most other social media. We had a lot of common interests and got along great, but the sex was nothing to write /r/gonewildstories about. It's not that the sex was bad—it was usually great—but it was mostly routine and unadventurous. It was very vanilla, but at least it was good vanilla. (French vanilla?)

All that is to say, when I found myself catching up with Kelly while eating my breakfast, hooking up was not on my mind at all, even when she complained about the romper “dress code" and being unable to even go pee without stripping practically naked. She was in town for her soon-to-be-sister-in-law’s bachelorette party and was feeling some trepidation about being the token 30-something at a party weekend planned by and otherwise attended by 20-somethings, but she was at least looking forward to a night off with her mom babysitting for her. In all, our conversation lasted about about 5 minutes and was best described as “cordial" and "superficial.” Needless to say, I was caught completely off guard when twelve hours later I got a text from a number I'd long since deleted from my contacts, though I still recognized it immediately: “Hey 😉 doing anything tonight?"

Now, less than an hour later, we’re leaning against the dresser, making out in my bedroom. As I caress her hips, she begins to grind against my thigh. I love it when women do this; it feels like raw desperate need is bubbling to the surface and bringing out something almost animalistic. My hands climb higher and my suspicion that she had taken her bra off is confirmed. I suddenly need to get her out of this ridiculous romper.

A few unknotted strings later and I am helping her shrug out of it. As I slide it down her body and over each curve, I suddenly realized that Kelly is completely naked under there. At some point before coming into my house she had removed all of her undergarments. As I kneel to help her step out of the adult-sized toddler outfit, she smirks down at me. I guess there are some benefits to rompers.

The last ten years had changed her body, though I now find it far sexier than I remember (or than my younger self would have thought her). Her breasts swing slightly as she leans down over me, fuller and heavier, but not sagging. Her dark nipples are erect and thicker than my thumb. Her belly, now decorated with stretch marks, is no longer flat, but seems to amplify the already alluring curves of her hips, leading me down towards a thick, though tended, bush of dark curls. I am on my knees, taking in the body of a seeming goddess, and I feel a sudden, strong need to worship. I lock eyes with her, grab her full, soft ass with both hands, and pull her to my waiting, hungry mouth.

I know I'm probably in the minority, but I love going down on a woman with a full bush. There's something about just burying your face in her and having all your senses enveloped. The slick, delicious wet under your tongue together with the coarse hair against your mouth. The smell of her skin mingling with the tang of sweat and the richer, tempting smell hidden beneathv that canopy of hair. The low, urgent sounds she makes as, after agonizing moments of kissing, caressing, and gently nipping from her inner thigh to her pelvic line to her outer lips—after tracing the contours of her body with your tongue, like an artist trying to copy a master’s sketch—you finally strike home.

Kelly runs her fingers through my hair as I knead her ass and alternate between drawing curling, circular patterns with my tongue across her clit and sucking on it gently with my lips. Soon, I am pulling her gently towards the bed behind me, thinking that she'd like to continue this while lying back or, if I am very lucky, while bending over so I could eat her from behind. Instead, she pushes me back into the bed and grips my head tightly, pinning it against the side of the mattress with her pussy. Holding my head against the bed she grinds into me hard. At this point her moans are nearly shouts, and I'm thankful I live alone. If our roles had been reversed, I would have immediately called it a rough face fucking, and that's exactly what she was doing. Kelly was using my mouth like a cheap sex toy and fucking my face with absolutely nothing held back. This realization had me straining uncomfortably against my pants.

I keep my tongue moving, but it’s mostly a token effort. Kelly is the one doing all the work now—I really just need to hold my tongue out for her to use. The discomfort in my jeans is becoming urgently distracting and I struggle to get an arm free and down the front of my pants to readjust. It’s not that she’s trying to stop me; just that she is oblivious to everything except for her hungry pussy on my face. With my immediate discomfort alleviated, I realize that I had my arm in the perfect position to reach up and finger her. I manage to slip one finger, then two inside of her. Between her own wetness and my drool soaking her bush, she is incredibly slick. With her bucking hard against me though, I can’t find the right angle to work my fingers without feeling like she might break them off. Finally, I find just the right position with my index finger curling slightly towards me in her pussy and my middle finger resting lightly on her asshole.

I move tentatively; Kelly was always weird about having her asshole touched. Sometimes she seemed to like it, but typically it earned me a hard slapping away of the offending hand. I had been trying to avoid it—I didn’t want this experience interrupted—but it was honestly the only comfortable way I could find to get a finger in her. So color me surprised when, instead of a refusal or a slap, I hear the first coherent words out of her mouth in what seems like hours (though it could only have been moments). “God! Yes! Like that! Right there!" Not exactly full sentences, but at least it's enthusiastic! Encouraged by this (and almost comically contrasted with her own frantic motions), I slowly and tentatively begin circling my middle finger, already soaking wet from being inside her pussy, around the rim of her asshole, daring occasionally to slide it gently right across her (now slippery) balloon knot as I continue to make beckoning motions inside her with my index finger and (vainly) swirl my tongue against her clit as she persistently grinds it down against me.

She presses down on me and starts to cum hard with a scream that surely would have caused someone to call the cops if they’d heard it on the street, still slightly wriggling her hips against my tongue. Then her knees suddenly seem to go out and she sinks down quickly, catching herself on the mattress with her forearms and draping her tits across my face. This unexpected motion causes her to push against my fingers, unintentionally (on my part anyway…) sending them each knuckle deep into their respective holes. She is still cumming though, and this elicits further moans as I feel both of her holes clench and unclench around my fingers. Her pussy and asshole feel wide open, then they grip down on my fingers so firmly I don't think I could pull them out if I wanted to. Again. Invitingly loose. Impossibly tight. Again. Again. I can't keep track of how many contractions she has, but it both seems to last forever and be over too soon. If I could freeze time and stay in a moment for hours, Kelly spasming on my fingers as she loses herself in her orgasm would definitely be one of those moments. She is still slightly working her hips as I slowly recover my fingers from her throbbing depths.

“Umm… sorry about that” she laughs nervously as she gets herself upright, pausing to give me one slow kiss. “I kinda got carried away!" “I definitely didn't mind at all.” She transitions smoothly from helping me stand to pulling my shirt over my head and I undo my pants as she pushes me gently into the bed and pulls them off. She spits in her hand for lube and begins giving me long, slow strokes while cupping and softly tugging on my balls.

Ball play is one of my biggest turn-ons and Kelly knows it. It took her a while when we first dated to understand that it doesn't do much for me on its own, but pair it with some attention paid to my cock and it's a game changer. Balls are like amps for me: they take a merely acoustic set and make it electric. She cups them from below with the slightest of grips and pulls down slowly, letting them start to slide out of her hand before loosening her grip just enough to move her hand up and start over again. My cock, which was hard before, is now alarmingly so and I feel like I'm about to burst at the seams.

She climbs on top of me and we have a few moments of mostly uninspiring cowgirl sex punctuated by kissing and playing with her nipples between my lips when she stops and leans over to whisper in my ear. “Let me repay you for using your face like that." Before I can reply that I'd do that a thousand times with no reward other than the experience itself, she turns around and mounts me reverse cowgirl, holding herself up on the balls of her feet.

As she slowly begins to bounce on my cock, I suddenly feel her wet hand massaging my balls. This time, to my complete and pleasant surprise, the ball massage includes an occasional stray finger exploring the rim of my ass. It feels incredible. The view is great. I was already so close to exploding. This can't get much better. She slows for a moment and takes her hand off my balls just long enough to pull an ass cheek to the side, revealing her wet, tight asshole. “Go ahead: play with it. I know how much you love my ass."

I honestly don't know how I didn't cum inside of her that very moment. I lick my fingers and begin rubbing firm circles around her tight hole, occasionally slipping in just a bare finger tip while she continues to ride me massage my balls. It's an embarrassingly short time before I cry out "Kel.." in warning, but she responds lightning quick, “Cum for me! I want to feel your cum inside me!" If wasn’t already tumbling over the edge, that sure would have done it. I grab her hips and pull her down as I unload deep inside of her. She continues her ministrations as if she's trying to coax out every drop until she feels the last pump of my cum and my slow deflatíon inside of her. I swear I was almost shaking for a moment from the intensity of it.

She slides off me with a quick kiss, retrieves her underwear from her purse (so that's where she stashed it) and begins to get dressed. “I suppose I should get back to the drunk girls before they start to miss me and make any bad decisions of their own.” The last bit is delivered with another peck and a gentle caress of my soft, very wet cock. She notices that this earned her some slightly sticky fingers and wipes her hand off in her bush with a wink. "Guess I'll keep this as a souvenir!" I get up and start dressing, retrieving the romper from the pile of my own clothing. As she puts it back on, we both freeze as we notice the large, fairly obvious wet patch in the crotch she had made while grinding against me. “Laundry and round 2," I ask? “Tempting, but I really do need to get back… good thing they're all drunk—maybe it'll dry a bit and they won't notice?” "Maybe some of my cum will leak out and you'll have an even larger wet spot." “Whatever, it'll just make ’em jealous. They're all wearing this silly outfit and playing with penis-shaped party favors; I got to take it off for a bit and ride a real cock.” And with that she took off back to their Airbnb. If I'm lucky, maybe it won't take another 10 years for us to run into each other again.

Names and minor details have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty