More Than Time Can Heal a Broken Heart (a Memory)
Copyright© 2026 by BethanyBelow
Chapter 47: Spoon
True Story Sex Story: Chapter 47: Spoon - This is a SLOW BURN story with the real sex only in the last 1/3 though some masturbation in earlier parts. While graphic the sex is very vanilla. This story focuses on when I was newly 18, inexperienced & insecure and my boyfriend of 4 years dumped me. The main purpose is to give those of you reading my Infidelity/Cheating series some background on me. This can be read as a stand alone. It is also not necessary to read this in order to enjoy my Infidelity/Cheating series.
Caution: This True Story Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual True Story Oral Sex
His breathing changed. The evenness broke. A catch, then a deeper inhale, then the small shift of a person climbing out of a dream and finding the dream still happening. I felt him wake up along the whole front of me. I did not stop. I got more urgent. More force in the grind. I dragged him through the wet of me from behind without putting him in yet, a shameless little show I would have died of yesterday.
He sighed into my hair.
“My God,” he said, voice wrecked with sleep. “You are amazing.”
He reached down, positioned himself, and slid into me in one smooth, thick stroke.
I moaned into the pillow and then turned my face so I could be loud. He was still the same stretch, still the same good fullness, and I was still slick enough from before that there was no fight in it. Just the blunt sweet shove of him seating himself to the hilt while his arm locked around my waist and held me there.
“Andrew. Oh my God. You feel—” “I know. I know. I have you.”
He fucked me like that, spooned, my back to his chest, his mouth on my shoulder, short, deep strokes that did not need a lot of room to wreck me. Every in-stroke nudged the place his fingers had found. Every out-stroke made me chase him. I reached back and held whatever I could reach—his hip, his thigh, the bandage I had to be careful of—and pushed my ass into him because I wanted him as deep as the position allowed.
The joy was almost stupid. It sat in my chest and in my cunt at the same time. I was not performing. I was not bracing for pain. I was a girl in her own bed getting fucked awake by someone who had seen her at her worst and had still gone hard in his sleep against her. I moaned on every breath. I said his name like it was the only useful vocabulary I had kept. Fuck. Yes. Right there. Do not stop. God. Andrew.
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