Some stories originate in fantasy or absurd desire, but this is a fairly accurate recollection of mine. While I'm typically more adept at collecting my less-than-stellar sexual embarrassments, what happened on this particular coastal walk was unusual enough to stay embedded. I can tell you only a little about her for privacy's sake, a sexually curious soul whose appetite would eventually eclipse and pass me by, whose curls accented a full, storied face. Even clothed in coastal-winter attire, she boasted the obvious figure of a plump renaissance painting subject, whose teasing often made public escapades impossible to avoid.
For the sake of simplicity, we'll think of her as "Renee." We were navigating a rocky trail on an unusually bright day for the area, with some families passing us by, mouths tucked under scarves or materially rich coats. We had argued about something trivial again, so I was a pace or two behind her, trying to balance taking in the sights with attempting to sort out whatever ill feelings had settled in the day. Our relationship started on the basis of sex, which had been new for me. I was a notorious online dater and was generally physically avoidant, but a chance encounter at a local theater had turned into a late-night conversation, which had turned into a mischievous face smiling down on me as she rode me. It was a lack of caution I had never exhibited before. I remember her asking, my cock in her hand, positioned at her cunt,
You're clean, right?
Who does that? She does, as it turned out, and slid down on top of me and established a primary connection between us immediately. I remember a compliment on my size that I generally regarded as being forcibly polite, or an attempt to further arouse me, but I was too busy wrapping my hands around a particularly plump ass and thinking "How has this happened?" Those thoughts don't last for long when someone rides you like she does, with a purpose so deliriously pleasurable I found myself a little while later gushing inside her, to her delight. How's that for an introduction to a relationship?
On a different continent, in a different context, it was harder to align those two elements of our relationship: lascivious desire and personality incompatibility. We might've disagreed on politics, or something much less important, but it's telling I only recall how the day concluded, not how it was complicated. We stomped through mud, puddles and briar patches before coming across an old concrete and brick structure that stood next to the sea. The water there wasn't the murky brown-green I had associated with east coast beaches, but a brilliant teal. The sun was setting, so I tussled her hair in a manner I hoped came off as affectionate, her curls wrapped around my frigid fingers. It turned into a slight kiss, and I was impolite enough to peek in the middle of it, taking in an entire sea as a backdrop to her freckled, pale face. A slight kiss became less slight, included the warmth of her tongue against mine, and suddenly we were much closer and the chill of the day ebbed away. I have a history with reckless public affection, which I'll bore all of you with at a later date, but they all contain the amusing, nerve-racking glance around. In this instance, it was a check to see if the farmers in the local fields could see us through the gaps in the brick, or if there were families on their way over to the structure.