The first time that we were together (as in, “going out”), I really don’t remember much of the sexual stuff. I was 18, I believe he was 20 or 21, and that was about fifteen years ago, so really no one can blame me for that.
Two specific incidents, however, stand out pretty clearly in my mind.
The first time I remember, we were still together. I think I had spent the night or some such thing, and his parents had moved out to leave his brother and him living in the house. They hadn’t separated it into two living spaces yet. And, as with many non-married guys, the house most of the time was a sty.
I remember I asked him if he wanted something to eat. He said ‘yes’, so I wandered into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of underwear and a long pink sweater that reached to just below the curve of my thighs. I can even say that the entire thing was incredibly sexy even to me: I was in that getup, making him food, and my hair was total girly bed-head.
So he walked into the kitchen, and slithered up behind me, and wrapped his arms around me. He nuzzled my neck, caressed my inner thighs while I believe I was cooking eggs. Then he roughly turned me around, pushed me against the counter, and said something along the lines of, “I could do you right here.” So he was less suave in those days… hell, so was I!
I teased him. I ran my hand along the outline of his cock through his jeans. I leaned in to nibble on his neck. I giggled in his ear.
And then I pulled away and finished cooking the eggs. 
The second time I remember EXTREMELY clearly. We had broken up and I was completely pissed off at him. My best friend at the time had been dating his brother, so I went over to see her and he happened to be alone in his bedroom. So, in I went.
It was early afternoon, and I remember the sun coming in from the windows behind his bed on the floor. I don’t remember what I said. I remember I pushed him back on the bed, started kissing him, and grinding my hips against his as I straddled him.
I kept my shirt on. So did he. The pants, on the other hand, came off rather quickly.
I lowered myself onto his cock, and I even remember biting my bottom lip. I began to fuck him fairly hard, riding him with all of my anger and frustration. His radio was on at the time, and I remember bending so I could hiss the lyrics of the song into his ears. It was Korn’s Blind. I felt it was appropriate.
I didn’t get off that time, but he did. I remember thinking as I was getting dressed that now I had fucked his new girlfriend over as well. It made me feel very self-satisfied. It made me feel even strong.
I didn’t really speak to him again until years later, when he was single and I was married.
But I guess that’s a different story for a different day, even though there’s no sex in that particular tale.
Heh.
