Car

"SO tell me… ", he was asking mischievously, in writing, "What do you remember most about our last encounter?"
To be honest, it was fifteen years ago and I didn't remember much; though I did remember a significantly wide cock and even more significantly filthy apartment. However, I mentioned only the apartment part. I didn't want him to get the wrong impression. I didn't want to make him feel that I was still interested in him after all these years. As far as I knew he was around thirty eight years old now and his hair was still ridiculously long. At any rate that was according to what he was writing using the Facebook messenger.

"Do you want me to remind you?" He kept on writing.
"Why not", I replied, wondering whether he was the one who was holding on to memories, after all.
"Well… I remember a car, in front of your old house. It was raining and we didn't want to step out. I recall some weird positions: legs on a windowpane, your lips clinging to my cock… By the way, do you still like sucking cock?"

After all this time, It was funny to hear the story from his point of view. Fifteen years passed since I allegedly swooped down on his cock inside a car on a rainy night and I don't even remember. To the best of my knowledge, it was my car, but I don't remember any of it; though I do have a memory of him squealing in a funny voice while fucking me. These are the sorts of things you don't easily forget.