"I didn't come but it was My best sex ever" | Sex Story
Despite my best efforts to deny it, my boyfriend and I had reached the point in our relationship where sex was infrequent and mostly unimaginative – not that this was a bad thing, but it wasn't what it used to be. We went from having sex many times during the night to once every few weeks. Then, one morning, we had the kind of session that still makes me tingle every time it comes to mind... and I didn't even have anything to do with it.. Then one morning, we had a session that still makes me tingle whenever it comes to mind... and I didn't even have an orgasm.
It had to be dawn, because the sun had just peeked over the horizon. I was half-asleep and half-awake, as though my brain had realised I wasn't sleeping but my body hadn't. My boyfriend and I were both lying on our stomachs, slightly tilted towards each other and nuzzling our lips. We began kissing slowly out of nowhere. It was almost drowsy. The kisses followed. The kisses became more intense after that, as if to indicate that the best is yet to come.
My boyfriend climbed on top of me and propped me up in a low doggy pose, pulling my knickers down below my knees. Even though my legs were bent and my butt was in the air, the rest of my body was pushed against the mattress. I was heavy and fuzzy from my night. He knelt over me, allowing me to feel the weight of his whole body, his thighs brushing against the back of my neck and his dick cradled in his hands..
His palms were brushing the back of my legs, and his cock was cradled between my bum cheeks, and he crouched over me so I could feel the weight of his whole body. He began kissing the back of my neck, ear, and shoulders, which was enough to make me so wet that lube would have been excessive.
He slipped inside me, dove deep with the previously push, and we began to fuck from behind. From the outset, it was moderate and close, similar to he needed me to feel each second of him entering me, squeezing his lips on my back, delving his fingers into my thighs. At that point, we moved into cowgirl position, and I began riding him. Our bodies were as yet stuck together and we kissed enthusiastically the entire time. I don't know how, but rather at one point he was on top of me, and he snared his arms under my knees so my legs were behind my head. The rhythm accelerated, and what had begun as heartfelt became sweat-soaked, quick, and overwhelming.
We both fell into a deeper sleep than we had before he arrived. We awoke hours later, with the sun higher in the sky, in the same position: lying on our stomachs, nuzzling our noses, as though nothing had happened.
It was the best sex I've at any point had, however there was no climax for me. Frankly, I seldom come. In any case, that day, something moved: following a time of having climax less sex, feeling that there was something "incorrectly" with me, I at last understood that having a climax wasn't a marker of sexual "achievement", nor is it the most important thing in the world of sex. Early that day demonstrated that an absence of peak doesn't show an absence of joy. Climax less sex actually gave me all that I was wanting: immediacy, crudeness – and an all out loss of control.