Welcome back to my sexual autobiography, answering questions I see on the forums with a truthful answer! And this poster has hit on my obsession. I had an experience so powerful that it has never left me. I had an experience I have longed to recreate, but which cannot be recreated artificially or through planning.

The poster asks, “What is your favourite memory of having sex?”

When Iker pulled his boxers down, I saw at once that he was better endowed than any of the men I had been with up to that point. Sitting next to him on the edge of bed, it was hot watching it swell, even before I touched it. 

He was circumcised, about seven inches long and, best of all, thick. I like my penises thick. Give me a thick one of average length over a ten inch wand any day.

We kissed, and I wrapped my hand around his penis and began to play with it blind. It grew firmer and firmer as I shook it. I could feel my pussy growing wet, feel it preparing for sex as I breathed in his scent and our tongues united and his cock filled my fist.

I tried and failed to undo my jeans without either breaking the kiss or letting go of his penis. But they were soon on the floor with my knickers, and I parted my legs very slightly and guided his hand between my legs. 

The kiss resumed, and I felt his fingers gently circle my clitoris, and I felt the veins on his hard cock like ridges on the palm of my hand. 

He broke the kiss.

“Let’s get these tops off, MC1982.”

Eagerly, I pulled off my t-shirt and he did likewise. I took off my bra and, instead of resuming the kiss, Iker kissed my breasts, gracefully paying equal attention to them, holding each nipple in turn gently between his teeth until I was quivering.

Iker sank to his knees and pulled my legs apart. With practiced ease, he drew his tongue up and down my genitals, now circling at the top, now planting kisses with his lips. It felt so good, and I told him so. I was quite unable to keep still. I writhed from side to side on my back and bottom, staring at the ceiling, pure pleasure surging as my nerve endings were licked. 

Iker went down on me for so long that I was close to orgasm, but I wanted him inside me. I pushed him away and, when a condom had been applied, opened my legs to invite him in. 

Iker was a big man, much bigger than petite little me. He loomed over my body as he approached, but he was gentle and kissed me as, together, we eased his cock inside.  

I kissed him, feeling him move between my legs, feeling the power and sexual energy that he radiated. Iker was in complete control. I knew, from the oral sex and from the way he knew where his dick should go, that this was a man with considerable sexual experience. Iker knew when to kiss me, where and how to thrust. I never worried that he would lose control and orgasm.

Ten minutes later, we agreed to change position. 

“Cambiamos?” was the only word spoken between us and, a moment later I was on my knees, facing him, feeling his cock slide into my now very wet pussy. I rode Iker’s cock and he squeezed my breasts, and his beautiful blue eyes on my naked body made me feel gorgeous. My hair kept getting in my eyes as I rocked backwards and forwards, Iker’s big, hairless body glowing slightly in the low light.

We switched to reverse cowgirl. As I worked his penis, rocking back and forth, his hands gripped my buttocks. His penis, at this new angle, was doing the Lord’s work. I was nearly there. But I needed a bit more movement. Without a word, I got off, lay on my back and opened up.

Iker slipped his cock back inside me. “I’m close,” he whispered. 

“Me too!”  

As he moved inside me, I could see in his face that he was trying not to come. I knew that expression from earlier lovers. He was avoiding eye contact and screwing up his mouth, presumably trying to think of something else to delay the moment. 

“Can I go faster?” he asked. I nodded fervently. 

Iker began to thrust quickly, deep, strong thrusts that rocked my body. I lifted my legs, and then…

Normally, I am quite a shy and quiet person, even during sex. I’m not one for performative screaming. When I come, it is expressed through deep breaths and, at best, low gasps. 

But that night, I came so hard that I yelled aloud, “Si! Si! Si!”! 

I was so lost in my own joy that I barely noticed Iker’s cock shudder as he came himself, yelling some word I was too off in Wonderland to remember.

We held each other tightly together, even with his cock still inside me. I gripped his shoulders and pulled him close. I knew we’d just shared something special, a moment that no-one could ever take away from us, even if we didn’t make it as a couple.  

At length, he pulled out. To the relief of both of us, the condom was intact, albeit swimming with white semen. 

Iker and I would go on to have an active and memorable sex life. He turned me from a naive young woman who had only been with a handful of just-as-inexperienced guys into an adventurous and skillful sexual partner, who had tried more than most people of my age at the time.   

Every night that I’ve had sex since then, every single time, even though other boyfriends, or my very husband himself, have been lying naked next to me, in my mind’s eye I have always remembered that night with Iker and the time I cried aloud as we came together. 

It was the most erotic moment of my life and, to answer the forum poster’s question, my favourite memory of having sex.