I’ve met a few people off Reddit. I usually just enjoy the experience in the moment, but my partner in crime wanted me to post our story. Hence, said story, and the use of hence like a douchebag.

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So about a year ago, I noticed a reddit post from a 23 year-old woman visiting LA with some friends and looking to hang out/fool around with a guy. I replied with more than just “hey”, which put me in the top echelon (dudes, take note). We connected. She seemed cool. Partial face pic but a nice smile. Could jam about basketball as well as make solid jokes. Now, she did seem oddly reticent about showing her whole face. That usually sets off my catfish radar, but I figured that, worst case, I can at least have a convo with someone who can banter, which is always worth it. So we kept chatting and eventually she confessed why she was so nervous.

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She was black, and knew some redditors weren’t into that (sigh, goddamn racists making it harder for black women to get off). She was a devout Muslim and wore the hijab. And she was married.

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That earned a double take. But we chatted more and she told me that she’d only ever had one partner (her husband), got married when she was 18, and had just been wondering what it would be like to be with another guy. I also grew up in a religious household so I could empathize a bit. We talked it over, and we decided to meet with me stressing that she could back out at any time and it would be totally ok. More comfortable, she sent over a few face pics, confessing that she was just average looking.

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Um, again, I have to call out racists and how they’d ruined this woman’s self-esteem. Because she was stunning. East African. Gorgeously smooth skin. Beautiful eyes. Model-slim proportions. She was 5’9” and maybe 115 pounds, just naturally delicate-framed. Yet somehow with a beautifully thick ass, still the best I’ve ever seen in my life. Allah be praised, for sure. Sadly, I’m not sure if she believed me when I told her how beautiful she was, but she definitely realized that I wasn’t lying about it later that night.

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We met up in a bar and the connection was just as strong in person as it was over kik. We both stayed with water. I mean, she’s Muslim, so she doesn’t drink. Taking a stranger’s cock was one thing, but alcohol was a bridge too far.

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The banter was great in person. And I was entranced with her looks. So much so, that I didn’t notice her hand at first. But when I looked down, I realized her hand was crawling up my knee, tentatively massaging my inner thigh. And her face was flushed. I rested my hand on hers and looked in her eyes. “Babe, do you want to do this?”. She looked down, bit her lip, and quietly nodded.

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I moved her hand up to the outline of my cock through my pants. She instinctively squeezed, sharply drawing in a breath. I wrapped my arm around her waist, drawing her closer, and she carefully ran a finger up my jeans, tracing the length of my cock, breathing harder, more ragged. I slid my hand down her back, and squeezed her ass. She jumped a little, enough for me to snake a finger lower. Her pussy was already so wet, you could feel it through her leggings. I started rubbing her pussy through the thin fabric, and it was like an electric jolt coursed through her body on each stroke, her thick lips quivering. I slowly slid her drink away and grabbed her hand, pulling her outside. We walked to my car. Once inside, I couldn’t wait any longer. I grabbed her face and brought her thick lips to mine. And then her hunger took over.

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We passionately kissed, soft moans escaping her lips. I broke it off and she quietly whimpered “Please, don’t stop”. But, as much as I loved kissing her, I wanted more. And as a taller guy, a car isn’t enough room for me. I turned the car on and unzipped my pants. Flopped my hard cock out and her hand moved like a magnet. The whole drive back to my place, her hand was massaging my cock, stopping only to bring her fingers to her lips so she could taste my thick precum.

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In the bedroom, her hunger became fiercer. She clawed at my back. Ripped my belt off. Inhaled my cock. Didn’t even have time to take off her hijab. And look, she wasn’t the greatest at head. Hadn’t really given it to her husband (I later learned they engaged in very vanilla sex). But her lips were thick and pillowy, and the earnest look in her eyes more than made up for it. And she was a willing student. I taught her how to carefully run her tongue up and down the shaft. How to keep one hand massaging my balls and the other softly jerking my cock at the base. How to use her tongue to massage the tip and drive a man fucking wild.

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But I’m a giver at heart. And I could smell the juices leaking from her pussy. She’d never been eaten out before, so I had to guide her onto her back and slowly, but surely open her up with my tongue. I kissed down her neck, softly brought her nipples into my mouth while my hands kneaded her ass. Kissed down her torso until I was over her vagina. And then firmly licked her from bottom to clit. She squirmed, moans escaping her throat, trying to scoot away. But I was a lot stronger than her and I pinned her legs open, alternately kissing her lower lips and licking her clit. I felt her body tightening as her moans rose in pitch, until she finally begged me to stop, her delicate frame shuddering in ecstasy.

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I wrapped her in my arms, hugging her as she trembled in my arms. “I’ve never been eaten out before” she whispered. The intensity, even pre-orgasm, had been just too much for her. She looked up at me. And said the thing I’d waited for all night. “Please, I want you to make love to me. I want you to take the lead,” she told me. “Do whatever you want.” Smiling, I wrapped a condom around my cock. Braced one hand on her hip. And guided my cock into her pussy. And she immediately came, her vagina contracting on my cock, juices flowing so heavily I could see the liquid pouring down my balls. It was the first cock she’d ever had beside her husband’s. But I wasn’t done yet.

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I slowly moved my hips, thrusting in and out, her entire body stiffening with every thrust. I moved my hand over her throat, pressing her into the bed. She bit her lip, small moans sneaking out as I began to really fuck her. I couldn’t break eye contact with her, she was just mesmerizing. I lowered my head down, brought my lips to hers and we softly, sensually fucked, her legs wrapping around my back. Truly making love even though we’d just met a few hours ago.

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But it wasn’t enough for me. I needed more. I needed that ass. “Time for something new,” I commanded. “Take off the hijab. On all fours”. She peeled away her headscarf, curly hair tumbling to her shoulders. Turned away from me, her thick, yet somehow slim ass inches away from me, my hands instinctively cupping her hips. I spanked her hard, and her whole body shuddered. I moved behind her and gently eased my cock into her pussy doggystyle. Her body tensed as I pushed in deep (I later learned she’d never even done doggystyle). It took us a moment to find the rhythm, and then I really started to fuck her. My cock driving in and out of her pussy, pushing screams of ecstasy out of her. I grabbed her hips, and just threw her to the edge of the bed, my cock still inside. I grabbed her hair in a fist and fucked the life out of her. I don’t know if it was one orgasm or multiple small ones, but her pussy was throbbing on my cock and her moans blended into one long cry of pleasure. “Fuck, I’m going to cum,” I moaned. “Missionary, do it missionary” she screamed. I flipped her onto her back. Slammed my cock inside of her and unleashed wave upon wave of cum into the condom as she wrapped her arms around me, nails digging into my back, pussy contracting hard as she came again.

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I collapsed on her. We were both sweaty and the bed was soaked. But, my head was in the stars and that ass was spooning into my cock, and it was the most relaxed I think I’ve ever felt. After we emerged from the post-orgasm haze, we snuggled for a bit longer before she had to return to her friends. I dropped her off with a deep kiss and a promise to recap our fun. And then she returned home the next day to be with her husband, hijab carefully worn, back to her normal life.