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The original was posted on /r/gonewildstories by /u/SuspciouslyHungry on 2025-03-29 22:59:25+00:00.

I’d forgotten about this account, and figured I’d revive it to share some other salacious stories to contribute back to the community that I still visit on occasion. If you’re just here for the smut, feel free to head down to the ------------, but I think the context makes for a more complete and stimulating narrative.

This encounter occurred just before Christmas of 2021, still deep into the pandemic life, and the restrictions that came with it. I had matched with Kira [name changed to protect their identity!] on Tinder; A 23 year old student who had come to Canada from Turkey on a masters program to study composing. In the initial back and forth messaging, I could tell she was intelligent, passionate, a woman of substance… she put effort into her responses, and our conversation. I quickly suggested getting a drink at one of my nearby favourite fancy cocktail spots the next day, Sunday.

I was 34 at the time, standing 5’11" tall, with a moderately-muscular medium build that had not yet gone to complete hell from the lack of COVID lifting facilities. I chose to wear a dark navy dress shirt and a heavier-weighted pair of jeans, finished with a cozy wool blazer in a mottled grey. Arriving at the bar first, I chose to situate myself just off the corner of the short “L” of the bar, where there were only three seats. Some people might find that type of seating to be intimidating for a first date… but I enjoy the intimacy of sitting beside someone. The accidental knee bumps, leaning into each other to remark on other patrons, the small touches from a joke shared… all things you miss when you just sit arms length across from a new romance.

Not to mention bar-seating is also a great way to observe the staff at their craft and befriend your friendly neighbourhood booze-slinger. (I’m on a first name basis with more than a few of them and I regularly receive industry-discounts, free drinks, and other perks! Be kind to your bartenders and servers, people!)

Kira arrived shortly after, a petite figure of no more than 5’2, garbed in jeans and a thick sweater of white ribbed wool under her winter jacket. While perhaps not classically beautiful, I found her mousey features and green-ish brown eyes well-framed by her shoulder-lengthed, tightly-curled hair typical for many women hailing from the eastern Mediterranean. I welcomed her with a hug, a smile, and a ‘hello!’, as we quickly settled in with a few drinks. We delved into her field of study and her passion for baroque and classical music, as well as their composers. I had turned in half-way in my seat to face her more properly and admire the wry, mischievous smile she wore as she regaled to me one of the larger scandals in her field; The love triangle between Brahms, Schumann, and Schumann’s wife, Clara.

Throughout our conversation, Kira and I shared light touches amongst our laughs, but wanting to test the waters further, I placed my hand on her knee closest to mine. She noticed, smiled, and placed her hand on mine. That first skin-to-skin touch was, as so sterotypically described, electric. As I quaffed the remainder of my third cocktail of the evening (I recall it had something with egg white… Floral, tart, and boozy, but with a bit of sweetness to balance), I set the glass down, stood up, leaned toward my date and said “I find your intelligence very attractive…”. She responded with a smile. That smile. You know the one. I don’t know if it’s the smile itself, the crease in a woman’s eyes as she makes it, or the knowledge that you were responsible for it, but oof, that smile. I probably blushed three shades from beet-red seeing that smirk; I’m a sucker for cute, nerdy, intelligent woman who can speak in depth on a topic, especially when it’s an interest I also share.

I placed my hand gently along the side of her chin, lifted her face towards mine… Kissing her lightly at first, and then a little deeper. It was a great first kiss, and it drew its own smile on me part way through it; She noticed, and giggled. She tasted sweet and slightly earthy, like the smell of roasted marshmallows in a rain storm. I pulled away against the grip of her hand on the collar of my blazer and excused myself to the washrooms. Dear reader, I don’t know if you’ve experienced that kind of chemistry on a first date before, but god damn does it feel good. It puts a spring in your step and a steely glimmer in your eye. Like that unexpected raise or promotion. Closing on your first home. A genie adding an inch to your cock. There are few things in life that are as confidence-inspiring as this.

Anyhow, I returned quickly, sitting with my left leg between hers, and entwined the fingers of her left hand amongst mine. We were fully facing each other now, my right arm supporting my lean against the back of my chair as we continued to flirt, touch, and drink. She told me about her family, still in Turkey, and the turmoil Erdogan brought to her homeland. Occasionally, she would lean forward slightly, and I would take the cue to kiss her, darting my tongue lightly into her mouth, lightly licking her top lip, or gently biting the lower. With great restraint, and titanic force of will, we refrained from full on making out at the bar, however intimate, dimly lit and cozy a place as it was, likely to the relief of the other patrons and staff.

Kira finished her drink and remarked “So what now?” ‘Well, my place is only about a 10 minute walk from here, if I can make you a drink there?’, I proffered. She agreed, and off we went into the -20C air for the short but chilly jaunt to my apartment. We held hands as we walked, and when we entered the elevator to carry us to the 8th floor, I stepped into her, kissing her deeply as I pulled her into an embrace. I felt the elevator slow, and come to a stop, so I broke off the kiss, but not before playfully poking at her frozen nose with mine.

I led her into my apartment, small but tastefully decorated in a mid-modern style. Warm woods and contrasting tones make for a cozy space. I hung her jacket for her and told her to make herself at home as I removed my boots and coat. She stood just off the island that separated kitchen from living room and observed the space. I walked to join her, leaning back against the quartz countertop, and offered her a drink. She declined. I gave my own reply by stepping forward, and I saw her raise herself up by her toes to meet me. This time our kissing was raw, passionate, almost forceful. We no longer needed to heed the social norms or prying eyes. Our tongues danced around each other, her breathing reaching a rapid pace.

My hands pulled at her body, one hand grasping her ass as the other slipped up her back, under her pillowy sweater. I separated my lips from hers in order to kiss the side of her face, her ear, and down her neck. I licked the short length of skin above her clavicle, just above where her chest and neck met, as I heard her moan lightly in response. I continued kissing the base of her neck, before she interrupted me to lift her sweater off. I dove back in and continued to kiss her body before she her top had even fully cleared her head, and I felt her hair falling upon my face as I heard the sweater dropping lightly to the floor.

I unhooked her bra and kissed my way down her torso, cupping my hand admire her small but perky breasts (she could not have been more than a 28B, but they fit her lithe frame quite well). I paused my southward journey to suck on her left nipple, pressing it gently into my teeth with my tongue. I continued downward, kissing rib and stomach. I felt her hands pry at the clasp of her tight-fitting jeans, and I assisted by pulling the waistband and underwear down towards her knee in one deft motion.

Due to the difference in our heights, I was at an awkward half-low-crouch at this point, so I dropped to one knee as I continued kissing my way passed her hips and onto the closely-saved skin just below her bikini line. She was still standing, facing me with her feet barely waist-width apart, likely due to how I was using my arms to envelope and draw her closer. My lips reached her pussy as I turned my head further to the side and lightly licked at her clit, gently sucking at the hood and eliciting excited gasps in an almost surprised-tone. I had one hand cupping the crease of her ass, with my middle finger just being able to enter her, and used it to pull her closer in order to press her more fully into my lips and mouth. I kissed the lips of her pussy, sucking and playfully pulling at them as she worked to kick off her thong, jeans, and socks.

I felt her hands reach out and grab my face, pulling me upwards toward her. She fiercely kissed me again with her lips as her hands dropped to my top shirt buttons. I threw my blazer aside and began unbuttoning my shirt from the bottom, meeting her somewhere in the middle as she pried my shirt off me. She quickly found the button of my jeans and pulled them down just enough to free my raging, blood-engorged, extra-medium cock, all without breaking her lips from mine. But she broke them now, kneeling down to begin sucking the tip of what fit in her mouth so perfectly.

I leaned back slightly against the counter, balancing on one elbow as my other hand appreciatively ran my hands through her thick hair. She sucked greedily, slowly working her small …

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