Sexual Nostalgia
"From in to out, to nostalgic revival. The pattern imitates the act."
Welcome (back) to our relationship peep show. Today, you have the pleasure of reading my pleasure. This is a semi-recent sexy story that is 100% true - and as all X-rated Happy Endings stories go, the narrative climax is for paid subscribers (hi to you, precious ones, by the way!).
“69 is an overrated position,” someone said somewhere I was. Was it a work meeting or that event about holes?
How long had it been? Since, you know, we 69ed.
There is a couple who post their sex videos on the website I work for. I cannot think of 69 without thinking of them. They’ve shared a few dozen videos over nearly a decade, all of the same sex act, all of the same fi (lo) - which progressively seemed worse as devices improved - unaware or unphased by their preferences’ popularity.
Proof that those who don’t mind what others think get the most pleasure.
-
69 was mine and Joe’s go-to for years - a routine of upside-down embraces. Not from preference, but it guaranteed release:
Forced distraction - cock and balls in the face - to minimize wandering minds.
Constant giving to eliminate any receptive guilt.
To be fair, I didn’t keep his dick in my mouth the entire time. Sometimes I’d put my chin on his perineum and let him grind his cock into my chest.
But neither reason has been an issue for a while, so I didn’t require the position, and we didn’t find our way back there.
From in to out, to nostalgic revival. The pattern imitates the act.
-
It didn’t take long before the recurring thought became an act. I didn’t plan it. We rarely do.
I sat beside him on our couch, our usual position and place. My dress strap drooped down.
He dragged one finger along the revealed edge of my boob. He repeated the fingertip pet. As the stroke soothed, I felt it elsewhere.
