Conjugal Visit: A Long Time Coming

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We met at a disco. Things got frisky on the dance floor, but she had a boyfriend she wasn’t ready to cheat on. Fast-forward 10 years, Facebook suggests I might know her. We were both single and I was always happy for an excuse to visit London, where she’d be at a conference. Friends with a central London flat would be out of town, but left a key with the doorman. We met in Hyde Park. We walked and talked and eventually found ourselves at the Natural History Museum in an exhibit on animal sexuality. More walking, pints in a pub, dinner, cocktails, an invitation to put my hand on her leg. We started kissing in the elevator to my friends‘ flat, my hand was up her skirt as soon as we hit the couch, and the carpet left rug burns on her back. In the morning, we went out for breakfast. Back at the flat, while she was sitting talking on the phone, I took down her underwear and licked her pussy again. Then I left for Heathrow and she left for Yorkshire. “GERALD”

Had a memorable sexual encounter? E-mail 200 words or less to conjugal@thestranger.com. (We’ll preserve your anonymity, of course.)