This won’t be the most exciting story out there, but it is 100% true. Although I’m now a respectable (stop laughing at the back) married woman, in my younger days I was a wild, wet, willing slut. My husband doesn’t know 1/10 of what I got up to before we met. This particular escapade happened when I was home from university, so I would have been about 20. I was out in town with an old school friend, catching up over a few drinks. I was feeling horny as fuck and as I was young, free and single, I was hoping to get lucky that night so I was dressed to pull: short tight dress, high heels, bare legs, no underwear. We’d been out for a couple of hours by now and I was starting to get disheartened. My friend was mooning over her on-off boyfriend and not in the mood to join me in finding some prime male flesh. We went on to the next bar and it was my turn to get the drinks in. Miraculously we managed to find a table - it was Friday night, heaving in town - and I joined the queue at the bar. I’d only been there a couple of minutes when I became aware of the guy next to me looking me up and down. I smiled at him and he leant over and said in my ear, so I could hear over the music, “Nice legs.” I smiled again and said thank you, and then he added “there’s only one thing missing that would make them perfect.” “What’s that then?” I said, expecting him to say “stockings” or “a tan” or something. Instead he said “my spunk running down them”. Instantly it was as though he’d flicked a switch in my cunt and I felt myself starting to juice up. By now I’d had a chance to have a proper look at him and I liked what I saw: couple of years older than me, well built in a stocky way, buzzcut, not too dressed up, and nicely cocky, sure of himself. On a night like this when I was desperate for a shag, he’d do. So I leant into his ear in turn and said “why, have you got some to spare?” He grinned, sensing his luck was in and said “two balls’ worth, pet”. I pretended to consider for a few seconds and said “I suppose there’s only one way we'll find out if you’re right” with my flirtiest smile and a flick of my head towards the side exit. We pushed our way through the crowds, out the side door - which was really a fire door that shouldn’t have been propped open, but since it gave us a quick way out into an alleyway I wasn’t complaining. He led me a little way up, away from the door behind some empty crates that were stacked up, and then he turned me to face the wall, pushed me down so I was bent over and lifted my dress over my hips. I dropped my bag on the ground and put my hands on the wall to steady myself as he breathed “you fucking slut” at seeing I was commando. “Are you complaining?” I said - well, almost panted by now, I was so turned on. His only answer was to unzip his jeans and the next moment I felt a lovely thick cock stretching me open. Between my wetness (it was practically dripping out of me by now) and his forcefulness, he got balls deep on the first thrust and I moaned in a mix of pleasure and pain. He gripped my hips at first as he started to move in and out, then as he found his rhythm he gripped my hair in one hand and my bunched-up dress in the other, and started to give me a proper pounding. I don’t always cum just from penetration, especially with no foreplay, but his cock was the perfect shape and girth to hit all the right spots and I knew very quickly I was going to orgasm. And it’s just as well it was quick because only about 30 seconds or so after I came, he groaned “so can I cum up your cunt?” As I was on the Pill back then I moaned out an urgent “yes”, still in the aftershocks of my own climax, and with that he grunted and shot his load deep inside me. Once he’d finished he pulled out, wiped his cock on my arse cheek, zipped up his jeans, said “thanks pet, that was champion” and walked off, leaving me still bent over, arse exposed, shaking, with brick dust all over my hands, and a heavy load of spunk from a guy whose name I didn’t even know dripping out of my cunt. I tried to sort myself out as best I could, pulling my skirt down and wiping with tissues from my bag, giving my hair a quick brush where he’d pulled it. Then I went back inside, rejoined the queue, bought the drinks and took them over to my friend. She complained I’d been ages and I shrugged and said the queue was terrible. He was right though...my legs did look better with his spunk running down them.