Mistaken Identity & Accidental Sex
I had sex by accident with a bartender from my neighborhood a few years ago. I didn’t accidentally fall on his dick with my legs wide open, but as the story goes one mistake led to another and suddenly we were fucking and I couldn’t exactly tell you how it happen. Except for the fact that I’m going to tell you exactly how it happened.
Remember that scene in Bridget Jones’ Diary where Miss Jones is riffling through her underwear drawer trying to decide which pair to wear for her date. She’s debating whether to wear the sexy underwear in case she gets laid or the control top granny panties which will make her look more appealing and thus get her laid. In the end she opts for the ugly practical underwear, because she reasons that with her luck she’ll only get lucky if she’s wearing the pair you wouldn’t want anyone to actually see. The moral of the story, if you read way in between the lines, is that sex comes when you’re the least prepared. You know, you get lucky when you haven’t shaved your legs in a month and you’re wearing your period panties, just because life works out that way sometimes.
So, getting back to my story, the night I had accidental sex with someone, I had gone out to the store to get a couple things to eat (a may west) and drink (some juice boxes). I was not freshly shower, shaved or in any way expecting to meet someone on the way home from the corner store, but I did and what led up to it was slightly embarrassing or at least makes for a good story.
I was about three blocks away from my apartment when I saw someone across the street whom I recognized as the bartender from the nearby pub. Oddly enough, he had also been in my apartment the week before when my roommates and I had thrown a party. You see, a couple of our friends had been drinking at the pub where he worked before heading to our place and he tagged along. So, when I saw him wave at me from across the street, I thought he recognized me and was just saying hello. In the mood to be social, which was a rare event, I crossed the street to go say hi.
After talking to him for a few minutes it became clear to me that he had NO IDEA who I was. In his mind, I wasn’t a chick who he had meet recently and who was just being friendly, no, I was a random stranger who was hitting on him. The thing is, that he invited me to go grab a beer, but while under the impression that he remembered who I was, I said: “let’s go to my place, I need to get rid of these grocery bags and I have a couple bottles of beer at home.”
On our way to my momentarily empty apartment, I realized that he thought he had just ran into a stranger and after one minute of conversation got invited up to her place. What a lucky guy, huh? I did not have the heart to break it to him that we had already meet. I thought that maybe seeing the apartment he had just partied in not so long ago would jog his memory, but no such luck. I let it go and didn’t give much thought to what would happen next.
He sat at my kitchen table and I stood in front of him handing him a beer, he took the bottle in one hand and lifted my shirt with the other. There I was, standing in my kitchen with a guy I barely knew and who had forgotten ever meeting me in the first place, looking down and watching him have a pretty dedicated make-out session with my stomach. I was so taken aback from what he did, that it took me so long to react that by then I figured I should just go with it.
He lead me to my bedroom and I was still trying to decide whether I actually wanted to fuck this guy. I was still trying to figure that out when he slid my jeans off, and of course, I was wearing bright pink granny panties fruit of the loom style. The sex was raunchy, complete with unflattering bright lights, musky smells, and a continuous change of position. A true shot-by-shot montage of any dime store Kama Sutra sex book. Kneeling on all fours, digging my hands in my sheets, his dick entering me from behind, I thought about the rather large zit on my ass and decided I didn’t give a shit. He licked my pussy and I couldn’t remember the last time I had trimmed my bush and gave up thinking about whether the quick shower I had taken that morning was still holding up to its side of the bargain.
Lying on my back, his cock going in and out of my mouth, I wondered how long this would go on for. Enough with the showcase of various positions, fuck me already, I thought. Fuck me, cum and get the hell out of my apartment. Yes, that was it. I knew what I wanted. I got on top of him and holding his body close to mine, I grinded my clit into his pubic bone until I felt the familiar waves emanating from my cunt. Yes, that was it. I got off of him and sat on the edge of my bed. He asked me whether I had came. I said “yes”. He told me he hadn’t cum yet.
I was done, I wanted him out. He asked whether I would blow him until he came. I said “only if you cum really really fast”. It’s not like I didn’t want to lend the poor guy a hand, but I realized that although I had just fucked him I had never actually made up my mind as to whether I wanted to or not and now that it was done I decided, I didn’t want to after all. Simple as that. Begrudgingly, he left.
That was the first and maybe the only time, I feel like I had been vicious with a guy. Forget about being afraid of being thought of as a cock tease, I pretty much threw someone out of my bed in the worse possible way. The thing is, for a moment after he left, I felt proud. Isn’t that strange?
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It is actually kind of funny, in a sad way for him though. I don’t know why when I was reading this I was thinking about my most embarrassing sex I ever had which involved uncontrollable pussy farts, and then me laughing and the harder I laughed the more I pussy farted. Not very sexy, let me tell you. I will not gross you out with the details of the story, however, as I imagine I have said enough.
Ah! Yes, the sex farts. Always awkward.
Haha, I hate these. It doesn’t happen that often to me, but when it does it’s sooo embarrassing!
I love Greyhound trips. Some people think that they take too long and don’t allow you to bathe for up to five days, but I like them because they give me the opportunity to see a lot of the United States and meet a lot of interesting people.
On one particular trip, I was travelling from the SW U.S. all the way to Vermont. The trip would take me 3 days and so I decided to go out of my way to make friends with fellow travellers. I’ll never forget it, I saw this copy of “Ishmael” by Daniel Quinn (great book) lying in someone’s seat, and asked the owner if he’d ever read it before. This started an hours long conversation on society and the environment and activism (all of which were making me fall deep in lust with this guy, 6 ft. tall, coppery red hair, great build), and eventually, like 6 hours later, the sun went down, and we started snuggling each other, and the bus was very dark and quiet, and the next thing you know, we’re making out and he’s touching me everywhere and I’m touching him everywhere, and eventually we reached St. Louis, MO, and had amazing sex in a public bathroom. He got on a different bus from there and I continued on my journey, but I will never forget that guy. It was an amazing experience.
So bittersweet. Part of me would always wonder what would have happened had he not changed buses at that stop. Great story though and hot too.
Oh. Ya! That’s what I’m talking about! Seriously hot. I remember a really good bus ride like that. Buts, yours it hotter!
My family moved to a small rural town when I was in high school. Apparently there was a girl who could have been my twin who lived in the town up until a few months before I arrived. I would be mistaken for her all the time. During the summer between my junior and senior year I went to a party at a friend of friend’s house after swimming in the lake all day. The friends I had come with had wondered off and I was left alone nursing a beer. A guy approached me, obviously drunk and came heavy on to me. He was quite attractive and I was fresh out of a relationship so I was probably a little more willing than what I normally would have been. We didn’t talk a lot, his hands moving up my t-shirt and cupping my breasts through my bikini while he kissed my neck. He led me off into a secuded part of the fields we were partying in and took me with my clothes still on, slipping his dick up my loose fitting shorts and past my bikini bottoms. I ground against him, anxious for the release that I could feel coming. He collapsed shortly after me, pulling out and laying on his back to look up at the night sky. It was then that he made a comment about it being even better than last time and called me by her name. I froze, horrified that our joining had been a result of mistaken identity. When I didn’t reply to him, he looked over at him and saw the look on my face. He mistook my expression as disagreement and became offended. Righting his clothes he stood up and huffed off, leaving me to stare at his back. I have to admit part of me was glad for the mistaken identity. I had not damaged my image at all, but in the same sense I felt bad for possibly causing her problems. I never did meet her though.
Wow, that’s quite a story. Like one of those things you hear from a friend of a friend. Amazing.
That is really crazy! OMG! So weird that he thought you were someone else… Like a doppleganger. Weird to think there could be someone like you right now having sex with someone, and they think its you?
It was actually kinda scary afterward when I realized he thought I was her. He was pretty drunk though.
Yes it would be. Kind of uncanny in a way. I remember a friend of mine saw me one time in Ottawa, yelled out to me and everything. Of course I never turned around or acknowledged them, because it wasn’t me. I’ve never been to Ottawa. It kind of creeped me out for a while, thinking there was someone out there that looked so much like me. So, yeah, your scenario is much scarier and freaky.