This story takes a place a few years ago and still ranks as one of my hottest memories. My now wife, then girlfriend Rachel had been dating a few years at this point. We made plans to have a fun night out on a Saturday — catch an Uber into the city, hit a few bars, get fucked up, and come home and have wild sex.
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We went to a few clubs and ended up at a cozy wine bar downtown. We were both pretty drunk at this point, and we started having a casual conversation about our exes. I decided to ask her point blank if her most recent ex, Carlos, was bigger than me.
Right away, I could see the hesitation in her eyes. I told her I wouldn’t be hurt or jealous, that I genuinely wanted to know.
“OK. Fine.” She admitted. “Like I love your dick, and it’s a great size, but he was bigger.”
“How much bigger?”
“Like ten inches.”
“Yeah right.” It sounded like bullshit, but Rachel suddenly adamantly defended her ex’s size. “
“I’m not lying. Like, I was so impressed by it I literally grabbed a tape measure and measured it myself.”
We were both wasted at this point, and Rachel got pretty raunchy with the details. She not only insisted that Carlos was THAT hung, but also describer his uncut dick as “really hot.” She described him as really “buff”, talked up his six pack abs and told me that they’d engage in really aggressive, intense sex.
“He could pick me up in his arms and pound me while standing. He was so muscular and obsessed with being in shape. He’d pin me down or against the wall. We’d just ravage each other. I was really into rough, hard sex back then and he just gave it to me like nobody else. I actively encouraged him.”
I could tell she was getting excited just talking about. I was hard just from hearing her discuss it. She’d never been shy about talking about her sexual escapades before me. She had a pretty well known reputation around my friend group before we’d ever gotten together.
But her going into vivid detail like this, literally praising her ex’s dick size and stamina in a crowded wine bar while we were on a date night…that was new territory.
For the record, I’d run into Carlos a few times. He’s a good looking, friendly and likable guy — a tall, toned athlete who had been in an on-off relationship with Rachel for a few years.
I asked Rachel some more questions and we even played around with a few scenarios of her reconnecting with him, or us all hanging out at a party. Carlos lived in the same city as us, and Rachel made a joke about how if she did see him again, Carlos would probably try and steal her away from me. “I’m sure he misses my blowjobs,” she drunkenly teased me.
We were both clearly horny and fucked up so we called an Uber back home. In the backseat, Rachel grabbed my fingers and pushed them under her black minidress, grinding her cunt on my hand while moaning softly in my ear. The middle aged Uber driver kept looking at us while she bucked her pussy against my hand. I won’t lie, I was nervous about the situation, but she was so aggressively turned on she really didn’t seem to give a shit how much she saw.
When we finally reached home we went straight to the bedroom. She rode my cock with the kind of feral abandon and wildness that she taps into when she’s extremely turned on. As she bounced up and down on my dick, her pussy audibly squelched and she dug her nails hard into my chest. I asked her to moan her ex’s name for me.
That’s when Rachel let out a little gasp: “Oh my God,” almost as if the thought alone was enough to push her over the edge. But then she started moaning, in her sultriest, sexiest voice: “Carlos. Oh fuck Carlos. Oh baby…give me that big, thick cock…”
Minutes later, we were collapsed on top of each other in a sweaty, drunken mess. Needless to say, that experience of her confessing opened up a lot of fun adventures — and a lot more candor from Rachel — down the line.
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