r/realNSFWconfessions

we’ve used a various dildos and vibrators of average size sense we have been together. one night while fingering her I slowly added another then and other till i was using four. she was taking about half of them with no issues. I got a fatter dildo and after using a normal one pulled the new one out. put some lube on it and slowly pushed it in. she let out a moan and took every inch of it. she prefers girth over length. the more use it got the easier she took it. after that she could take four finger and the way up to my knuckles. I found a silicone inflatable plug and surprised her with it. I’ll push it in the slowly pump it up deep in her. then she’ll pull her legs back and slowly pushed iron it back out. I’ll keep it that size till it’s easy to go in and out then make it bigger. she can take it a little smaller then a coke can. I can get five fingers in and am slowly working trying to get her past my knuckles. love seeing her spread her legs and her hole loose and gaping.

Most days, when im working, I get overly horny so I will go into the bathroom at work and jerk off, I either come onto reddit to see if I can find some help or i jerk to pics of my friends wife, im hypersexual and it gets hard not to jerk at work sometimes

oh my god i just got my mouth fucked in the library basement and it was so fucking hot i'm still so wet from it my panties are ruined i was on my knees with my mouth wide open taking that big hard cock while i played with my tits and my pussy and now i can't stop thinking about it i want more someone fuck my mouth again

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I'm a 48-year-old educated woman. I teach biology and anatomy & physiology, so you'd think I'd have a reasonably solid understanding of how the human body works.

Apparently there was a small but important gap in my education. 😂

I knew oral sex could transmit STIs. Of course I knew that.

What had somehow never crossed my mind was that I could get gonorrhea in my throat, have it spread beyond my throat, and end up seriously fucking sick.

Yet here we are.

It started with a sore throat. Then my joints apparently decided to stage a coordinated rebellion. Fingers, wrists, feet—pain and swelling that seemed to keep moving around. I went from "huh, this is strange" to multiple medical visits and eventually being admitted to the hospital.

Then came the plot twist:

My throat swab was positive for gonorrhea.

And the bigger plot twist: the infection had disseminated. I was being treated in the hospital for a systemic infection, with IV antibiotics, blood cultures, an echocardiogram, and considerably more medical attention than I had ever anticipated receiving as a consequence of giving someone a blowjob.

At some point I just had to appreciate the sheer fucking absurdity of it.

I knew oral sex wasn't risk-free.

I knew gonorrhea existed.

I knew infections could become serious.

Somehow my brain had simply never assembled those facts into the sentence:

"One day a blowjob might land you in the hospital."

Apparently Professor Bre still has some continuing education requirements. 😂

I'm doing much better, and I'm incredibly grateful that I got treatment when I did. But since this particular possibility had never occurred to me—and I literally teach people about the human body—I figured there had to be at least one other grown-ass adult out there who didn't know either.

So there you go. My confession, my humiliation, and today's accidental public-service announcement:

Sometimes you give head.

Sometimes you get ahead.

And sometimes you get admitted. 😭😂

Confession time… 😈

I run an all-girls group chat on Snapchat, and there’s something about being the one in charge that turns me on way more than I probably should admit. 👀🔥

The gossip, the flirting, the secrets, the late-night conversations… knowing exactly what goes on in that group chat is definitely my guilty pleasure. 😏

And yes… I absolutely love being the boss of it. 💋

When I was 25 I briefly worked overnight at an inbound call center. It was only two employees on this shift, me and a slightly younger skinny douchey nepo baby white boy. He was technically my supervisor, and he was an asshole. There were two large rooms and we usually sat far from each other in different rooms, though still able to see each other. We mostly sat there watching movies on our laptops, smoking, sometimes drinking. We only got about 2 calls an hour.

One night he started watching porn, and not quietly. He didn't know I was watching him, but I was. I saw him pull out his dick and start stroking it. I watched it grow to an impressive size. I got up and walked near him, where the coffee was. But instead of getting coffee, I just watched him. He eventually sees me, but doesn't stop. We stared at each other as he came. I called him pathetic on my way back to my seat.

The next night he decided to sit closer to me. A few hours into the shift he offers to share a blunt with me. I'm a pot head, I was bored, so of course I said yes. I moved next to him. Once again, he's watching porn. I sat back and watched it with him. We watched a few together, commenting on technique and the absurdity of the story lines and acting.

Eventually I decide I want to get off. I was wearing a dress and no panties, so easy access. I draped my legs over the arms of my chair and lifted up my dress. I rubbed my clit softly for a short bit, before he notices and gets on his knees in front of me and licks my pussy. He wasn't good at it, so I stopped him after only a couple of minutes. I grabbed a condom from my purse, handed it to him and told him to fuck me. I bent over and he did what he was told. He wasn't very good at that either, but I let him finish.

He tried to fuck me again on a different night, but I told him he wasn't any good, and that he didn't deserve such a great looking dick. Later into the night I got bored and watched some porn. I got myself into position and started rubbing my clit. I look over at him, he is staring at me. When I got close to cuming I motioned him to come to me. He literally skipped to me. I made him kneel in front of me as I kept rubbing my clit. When I finally start to cum I grab his head and pushed him onto me. He started licking immediately. This time it felt somewhat good. He licked every inch of my pussy, cleaning it up well. I let him continue licking and fucking me with his tongue until he couldn't anymore. And no, he didn't get me off

I pushed him away and called him pathetic and ignored him the rest of the night. I never let him touch me again.

okay so i just left the park and my lips still feel swollen i let some guy i don't know get on his knees on a fucking park bench and shove his tongue inside me i came so hard i saw spots like why am i like this i can't stop thinking about it

;

This is something I've never told anyone, and I need to get it off my chest. I'm 28 now, and this started when I was 19.

My dad passed away when I was 16, leaving my mom (52) a widow. She never remarried, never really dated. She and my chachi have always been close—bonded by their shared loneliness, I guess. My chachi married my uncle when she was young, but he was always traveling for work and basically neglected her for years. She never had kids of her own.

When I was 19, my mom noticed I was struggling with dating and basically... offered my chachi to "teach me." I thought it was a joke at first. It wasn't.

The first time happened at our family home when my uncle was away on a business trip. My mom actually set it up—she left the house, told me my chachi was waiting in the guest room, and said "be respectful and learn something." I was shocked, nervous, but also 19 and hormonal. My chachi was 34 then, gorgeous, experienced, and honestly? She was lonely and wanted affection.

That first night was awkward but intense. She took the lead, taught me everything. After that, it became a regular thing. My mom knew—she'd coordinate schedules, make excuses for family gatherings, sometimes even cover for us if people got suspicious.

But about six months in, things shifted. My mom had been watching us, I realized later. She'd listen outside doors, ask my chachi for details. She was lonely too—years without my dad, without any intimacy. One night after my chachi left, my mom sat me down. She was crying, said she missed my dad, missed being touched. She asked if I could... help her too.

I was 20 by then. Confused, but also felt responsible for her happiness. She was my mom, she'd sacrificed everything for me, and she was beautiful for her age—52 but looked younger, took care of herself. That first time with her was different than with my chachi. More emotional, more desperate. She cried afterward, held me, said I was the only man she needed.

So for the past 8 years, I've been sleeping with both of them. My mom during the week at our house, my chachi on weekends or when my uncle travels. They know about each other—sometimes they even coordinate, compare notes, laugh about it. It's this weird secret triangle. My mom says I'm the only man who can satisfy her, that she doesn't want anyone else. My chachi says the same.

Two months ago, my chachi told me she's pregnant. She's 43, I know the risks, but she wants to keep it. Says she's always wanted a child and this is her last chance. My uncle thinks it's his—he was home for a weekend around the time we calculated conception, so the timing works.

My mom knows about the pregnancy. She's jealous, I can tell, but she's also excited in a weird way. Says she'll help raise the baby, that it'll be like having another child in the family

I never thought this would be my life.
I was a wife. I was settled. I had my person and my predictable little world. Then I became a widow, and somewhere between grief, loneliness, anger, and realizing I could do whatever the hell I wanted, something in me completely changed.
Now?
I have two married men lined up for tomorrow. Another Friday. Another Saturday.
Yes. Four men. Three days.
And they’re all married.
I know exactly how terrible that sounds, which is why this is a confession and not an inspirational TED Talk.
There’s something incredibly intoxicating about being wanted again. About getting dressed knowing exactly why a man is coming to see me. The messages. The anticipation. The secrecy. That little rush when my phone lights up and I already know what he’s thinking about.
Maybe I’m making up for lost time. Maybe grief knocked something loose in me. Maybe after having death remind me how quickly a whole life can disappear, I’ve become addicted to feeling alive.
The woman I used to be would probably be horrified by the woman writing this.
The woman I am now is lying in bed looking at my calendar thinking:
Jesus Christ. I really scheduled them back-to-back like appointments.
Widowhood has apparently turned me into somebody I don’t entirely recognize.
And the most shameful part of the confession?
I’m not sure I want her to go aw

oh my god i’m so sore i just got my ass pounded in an elevator by a stranger it was so hot the whole ride up he fucked me so hard i came all over his cock and now i’m so wet i can’t stop touching myself but it’s not enough i need more i need one of you to fuck me again like that

Long day at work, everything went wrong, and I’m lying here exhausted. Lately I keep thinking about how much I miss having that one person I can talk to about absolutely everything , the random thoughts, the soft stuff, the teasing, even the dirty things that pop into my head..

I’m 28, a single mom, sub tutor, content creator (my little secret) loves iced coffee , and somehow still find time for hikes, gym, or yoga between school, tutoring, and park time with my daughter. Evenings are usually movies or just surviving the beautiful mess of single mom life.

After my divorce I thought I mostly just wanted the physical side of things… but more and more I catch myself wanting someone who can handle both. Someone I don’t have to filter myself around. No pressure, no heavy expectations… just easy conversation that actually feels good after a chaotic day.

I know most of my posts are a lot filthier, but this one has been sitting with me lately.

Does anyone else still looking for that one person they can talk to about absolutely everything?

I need to preface this by saying that this is something which happened a while ago and i'm only just writing about it now, but it is another one of my "firsts" so I figures you guys would all enjoy hearing about it.

His name is Julian and we had been hanging out for about a month, which for me is kind of a long time to spend with someone without something happening. But Julian was patient in a way that didn't feel like he was pressuring me, more like he was waiting to see what I wanted and adjusting to that. We had kissed a lot. Made out on his couch a bunch of times. Pretty intense make out sessions too. Tongue. Hands. Etc.

The night it finally happened, we were watching a movie. I was tucked against his side with his arm around me.

He kissed me and I kissed him back and it escalated faster than usual. His hand slid under my shirt and up my stomach and I felt myself getting tense and excited under his fingers. I wasn't pulling away, just reacting. He paused.

"Is this okay?"

I nodded, which was an understatement. I wanted this so bad. His hand moved higher and his thumb traced along the bottom edge of my bra, not going under it, just following the line. We decided we needed to go somewhere more private.

We ended up in his bedroom. I remember standing up and him leading me by the hand and guiding me into the room.

He laid me down on his bed and kissed me there, slower than before, his weight half on me and half on the mattress beside me. He took my shirt off and I let him do it. I felt exposed in a way that was terrifying and exciting. I was new to this. He looked at me and said "you're beautiful" and I know that sounds like a line but I felt my face get so hot that I turned it into the pillow.

He kissed my neck. My collarbone. The center of my chest. The dip between my ribs. And I was tracking his path downward with this growing awareness that I knew where he was going and I wanted it and I was also scared in a way I couldn't fully articulate.

He paused at my stomach, his lips just above the waistband of my jeans, and looked up at me.

"Can I?"

I couldn't speak. I nodded and then said "yes" because I thought the nod might not have been clear enough.

He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down and I lifted my hips to help and there was this moment where I was lying on his bed in just my underwear and his face was level with my hips and I could feel his breath through the fabric and my whole body tensed up.

He kissed me through my underwear first. Just a soft, warm press of his lips against the cotton, right where I was most sensitive, and my hand flew to my mouth because the sound that came out of it was not intentional He did it again, slower, his mouth open slightly this time, and I felt the heat and the pressure and the slight dampness of his tongue and my hips moved against him.

"Can I take these off?" he asked against my skin.

"Yes" I said, and my voice was shaky.

He pulled them down and my pussy was completely exposed and I felt every nerve ending in my body tingle. He looked at me, just looked, and I wanted to close my legs and also never close them again. He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, then the other one, and I realized I was probably hornier than I ever had been before.

The first time his tongue touched me, directly, nothing in between, I stopped breathing.

It wasn't what I expected. I thought it would be good, obviously, that's the whole idea. But I didn't know it would feel like that. His tongue was soft and warm and slow, tracing from bottom to top. I knew he had done it before, but I was honestly surprised by how confident he was asking.

He found my clit. He found it and he stayed there, this gentle pressure, his tongue flat and moving in slow circles, and I couldn't keep still. My hips were grinding up toward his mouth and I was making sounds I couldn't stop myself from making. Little gasps and whimpers that came out on their own, that I couldn't have stopped even if I'd wanted to.

He put his hands on my thighs, kind of holding me down, and the feeling of his palms on my bare skin while his mouth worked was almost too much for me to handle. I was so wet. I could feel it. The slipperyness of it, the mess of it, and part of me was mortified and part of me didn't care at all because it felt so good that shame couldn't compete.

He added a finger into me and I gasped and he paused and looked up at me and I said "don't stop" before he could ask if I was okay. He pushed it deeper, curling it, and his tongue kept going, and I was spiraling out of control. The feeling built and built, this tightening in my core that spread outward through my thighs and my stomach and my chest until my whole body felt tense as hell.

I came while moaning his name. It came in waves. Not one sharp peak but these rolling, pulsing contractions that made my legs shake and my breath catch. His mouth stayed on me through all of it, gentler now, slower, easing me down, and I could hear myself making these soft, broken sounds that were somewhere between crying and moaning.

He pulled away when my body finally went limp and kissed his way back up my body until he reached my lips and I remember tasting myself on him. I actually really liked the taste. I was surprised by that.

He came back up and lay beside me and I curled into him and hid my face in his chest and he rubbed my back and neither of us said anything for a while.

"Was that okay?" he asked eventually.

"It was amazing" I told him.

I thought about reciprocating. I wanted to. But I was so overwhelmed and nervious that I just didn't, and he didn't ask.

I went home later that night and sat on the edge of my bed and touched my lips down there and I ended up playing with my vibrator that I had just recently gotten. I thought my vibrator was life changing when I first got it, but now I realize that I prefer the real thing. Its just better.

I texted him "thank you" at 2am and then immediately regretted it because who says thank you? But he replied with "Anytime" and a period at the end, just "Anytime" so I guess it was ok.

Anyways. There is another one of my first time stories for you. It is a special one to me so I hope you liked reading it.

hello! i’m 24f and my husband is 25m. recently, one of my friends (20f) got out of a very long term relationship and has honestly understandably taken it so bad. she’s just going through a lot and i told her to tell me if she needs anything

I also told her that she should get back out there and maybe some fun with another guy would take her mind off of it. she said the only guy on her mind was my husband. honestly im so flattered and not offended at all (i kinda brag about my husband to all of our friends lol).

but idk what to do. i definitely have to tell my husband and i think i know he’s gonna like the idea. i mean i kinda think it’s hot too and tbh im kinda bi-curious and my friend is like kinda hot hehe (she’s bi!). but anyways its just a bit to think about and i think i might go through with it soon. she needs her mind taken off of this whole thing

I got to work most days, most days I end up jerking off in the bathroom because I get too horny not too

I(37F) was 23 at the time when I got into the BDSM/Kink scene. Through a friend, I learned about FL ok and joined. I quickly found the local community, and started going to munches. I became really close with a chick my age, and we met up just to hang out and talk. She said she was having a kinky birthday party that weekend and invited me.

Turns out the party was being hosted by a man in his 40s who regularly held parties and educationals. I went to the party and immediately was sucked into everything going on. Before I knew it, I was completely naked (I had never been nude in front of strangers before, let alone 30+). The host had me and the birthday girl together on spanking benches, as he teased us both with different tools like paddles, whips,and floggers. I had never seen any of those in person before. Then he lit some candles.

We're now both on the floor on our knees, wrapped in rope, holding our arms behind us and our heads back, as the rope is also connected to our hair. And then he started to drip wax on our chests and stomachs. I didn't know what to expect, but I was surprisingly into it. Everyone else is gathered around us watching.

Eventually I'm stood up and put back on the bench, my ass facing the crowd and I'm tied to the bench now. More wax is dripped, shapes are being made with cookie cutters. And I'm being asked questions about how I'm feeling, and being egged on to ask for more. The birthday girl got down to join the host and some other women to now take care of me in a different way. I'm flipped over to be on my back, still tied down. My legs are mostly spread, everyone can see everything. My whole body was feeling electric, goosebumps everywhere. And then they got a vibrating wand and put it on me, and then another, and then a third.

It was like a fantasy I didn't even know I had. I was having an amazing time, and when I was allowed to, I came so hard. I couldn't believe that just happened, especially in front of such a large crowd of strangers.

Afterwards the host, the birthday girl, and I went to the bedroom. He helped clean us up, and then we proceeded to have a threesome. Like a good girl, I took care of the birthday girl. I barely even remember these moments though because my head was spinning from everything that had happened.

I thought, this is only the beginning, I'm going to have so many more awesome experiences... And I did ...

I plan on sharing more of my experiences, so feel free to follow along.

Long story short, finace and I have sex (everyone does) this time we decided to watch hentai and I randomly blurted out that I wanted to eat the girl out in said hentai; fiance stopped mid way egging my thoughts on to the point where I started to blabber on about my type in women as he fucked me.

Only for me to stop when he brought up my old friend who I had been in love, now it has me thinking that he wants to set up something with her and I, i honestly dont mind (since i still think about her) as long as he doesnt leave me (i am pregnant with his kid). But yeah i keep thinking back on it and the more i think about it the more embarrassed i become.

Fun, just wanted to share my embarrassing thought/moment with yall, dont know if this iis the right place for me to even share lol.

I [M26] was with my girlfriend [F23] for years, and I was completely convinced I knew her. Looking back, there were little things that should’ve made me suspicious. One question she used to ask me almost casually was, “If I ever cheated on you, how would you find out?” I’d laugh and say, “You wouldn’t cheat on me.” She’d just smile and change the subject.

At the time, I thought it was some weird hypothetical. Then, about a month before we broke up, I had her phone and started scrolling through her messages. That’s when everything changed. There were conversations with multiple guys. Flirty messages. Secret plans. Intimate recordings. Messages where she talked about how attracted she was to other men, including Black guys she apparently been seeing behind my back. At first I had just seen couple of the videos. But the second night that I went through it all I was using my headphones and the sound was loud. She was moaning and screaming like crazy while guys pounded her like psychopaths that had been sex hungry for years. In one of the videos she kept squirting over and over for 20 minutes straight before it ended with him finished inside her mouth. She swallowed it all like a good girl that she is and smiled and said, “my boyfriend is waiting for me in bed. I better get going.” Coming back to reality and suddenly that stupid question came rushing back into my head. “If I ever cheated on you, how would you find out?” She already knew the answer. I just didn’t know it yet.

I was devastated and heartbroken at first. Then furious. Then came the humiliation. But somewhere in that mess, something incredibly confusing happened. The more I thought about her with other men, the more my jealousy started mixing with something else. Curiosity. Then excitement. I just couldn’t stop imagining her getting dressed up knowing she was going to meet someone else and was going to get railed like a total true slut that she is. I kept wondering what she told them about me. Wondering what they knew about our relationship. Wondering whether she compared us and the sizes. And the fact that some of the guys were physically better looking than me made the whole thing hit my ego even harder. Not to mention the BBCs. I hated that thought. But I also couldn’t deny the reaction it gave me.

That was when I started wondering whether there was something seriously different about me. Because the same discovery that broke my heart was also unlocking a fantasy I’d never admitted to having. By the time we finally ended things, I wasn’t just left with the question of why did she do this? I was left with an even stranger question, Why did part of me find it so damn exciting? Her getting bent over and tossed and picked up and fucked in mid air by a guy that would cause her way more pain than I ever could. I went into that relationship thinking I knew exactly what I wanted. I came out wondering if getting betrayed had accidentally revealed a side of my sexuality I’d been completely unaware of. And honestly, that’s probably the most fucked-up part of the entire story.

I fantasize about my own Mother. I want to sext her and flirt with her. think the IDEA of such an off limits thing is what's such a massive turn on for me. enjoy sending her little texts in the slight hope she'll reply with an opening to flirt, just to see where it goes... I sent her one today that said"just saying hi, thought of you earlier'

i can't believe i did it but i'm so fucking wet and turned on rn i'm squirming in my seat my nipples are so hard and perky and my pussy is soaked i couldn't take it anymore so i snuck into the handicap bathroom and found this weird little bottle that fit perfectly in my tight little asshole ooh fuck i'm so dirty but someone get me off i'm not even kidding i'll send you a pic of my asshole full of this bottle if you tell me how to make myself cum harder

We planned to meet at an Italian restaurant at seven.

Getting ready, I pulled out this coral red dress I'd been waiting for an excuse to wear. It was covered in delicate embroidered flowers, with tiny white pearls scattered throughout, and it fit me perfectly. I'd known exactly how good I looked in it from the moment I'd tried it on in the store. I'd bought it because of the way it made me feel when I looked in the mirror. Soft and feminine, but impossible not to notice.

That night felt like exactly the right moment to finally wear it.

I left my curls loose, letting them fall naturally around my face. Around my neck, I layered delicate gold and green necklaces, the chains settling against my skin just above the neckline of the dress. Then I slipped into a pair of chunky black heels.

I remember looking at myself one last time before I left and thinking, Yeah. This is going to be fun.

At that point, I thought I was just getting dressed for dinner.

When I got to the restaurant, he was already inside.

He spotted me through the glass doors as I walked up, and I swear the look that came over his face was priceless. There was something incredibly satisfying about watching someone see you and immediately realizing that, yes, the dress had done exactly what you'd hoped it would.

Dinner somehow turned into hours.

We talked until we were the last people left in the restaurant. Eventually the waiters started making those increasingly obvious little check ins, and we finally took the hint and headed outside.

He walked me to my car.

For all the chemistry we'd had over dinner, it still seemed like we were actually going to behave. We stood beside my car saying goodbye, and then he looked at me and asked if he could kiss me.

I said yes.

He stepped close, one hand settling around my waist while the other cupped my face, and pulled me toward him.

The first kiss was surprisingly slow. Soft. His tongue cautiously slipped into my mouth, almost like he was testing how far I'd let him go. I let my tongue meet his, teasing him for a moment before gently catching his bottom lip between my teeth.

That changed something.

His kiss immediately became hungrier.

Suddenly my back was against my car and his hands were everywhere, grabbing my ass through the thin fabric of my dress and pulling my body tightly against his. There was absolutely no hiding how hard he was.

And apparently I had no interest in pretending I hadn't noticed.

The dress was so thin that I could feel him pressed against me, and instead of creating space, I grabbed him and pulled him even closer. I started grinding against him while we kissed, my fingers wandering down and casually slipping beneath his waistband.

His hard cock felt so fucking good against me.

We stayed like that for several minutes, kissing, touching, grinding against each other beside my car like we'd completely forgotten we were standing in a fucking parking lot.

Then his mouth left mine.

He moved down my neck and started sucking on it in this slow, absolutely magical way that made whatever self control I had left disappear.

By that point, I was so fucking horny I could feel my pussy juices literally dripping down my leg.

He still hadn't touched the one place I was absolutely aching for him to touch.

Eventually, I got impatient.

I grabbed his hand and guided it between my thighs myself.

He pulled his mouth away from my neck just long enough to look at me.

“Fuck, you are naughty, aren't you?”

Then he kissed me again and slipped a finger between my wet folds, circling my swollen clit with his fingers.

I was already so worked up that it didn't take long before I was grinding my hips against his hand, completely shameless about how badly I wanted it. When I felt the first shudders of an orgasm beginning to roll through me, his mouth dropped back to my neck. He sucked hard against my skin as he kept touching me, and that combination pushed me over the edge.

Right there against my car.

Afterward, he asked if we could get inside and continue.

I laughed and told him my car was kind of a mess.

Which was true.

But apparently not enough of a mess to make either of us reconsider what we were doing.

Instead, I pulled him back into another kiss and finally slipped my hand down his pants. I wrapped my hand around his hard cock and started stroking him. I immediately noticed how thick he felt, thicker than my ex, although probably around the same length. His precum made it easy to circle my thumb around the tip before sliding my hand back down his cock.

And then he started talking.

“Right here in the parking lot?”

That alone made me hotter.

“I bet there's a camera somewhere watching us do this.”

Fuck.

There was something about hearing him actually acknowledge where we were, standing beside my car, out in the open, knowing there was every possibility that someone could see us, that made the entire thing feel even more forbidden.

Then, just when I was starting to think we weren't actually going to take it any further, he pulled his cock out and asked if he could fuck me right there in the parking lot.

I didn't need convincing.

Still facing him, I pulled him closer, lifted one leg and raised my dress, exposing my pussy to him. He held my leg up as he slid himself inside me, his other hand grabbing my tit.

The feeling of him filling me almost made me come again immediately.

Maybe it was him.

Maybe it was everything we'd spent the last several minutes building toward.

Or maybe it was the realization that I was actually letting someone fuck me outside, against my car, wearing this beautiful little coral dress I'd originally put on for an innocent Italian dinner.

I'd fucked around in a parking lot before, years ago.

But I'd never done anything this exposed.

There was no real attempt to hide what we were doing. No locked door between us and the rest of the world. No pretending we weren't being reckless.

And the part that surprised me most?

I fucking loved it.

I didn't care if somebody saw me.

If anything, knowing they could made every sensation sharper.

I'd spent the evening looking sweet and feminine in embroidered flowers and tiny pearls, and now my dress was pulled up around my hips while I let a man fuck me against my car where anyone could potentially see us.

It felt filthy.

It felt reckless.

It felt so fucking good to be naughty in public.

Eventually, he turned me around so he could fuck me from behind.

Whatever restraint he'd been holding onto disappeared.

He started fucking me hard and fast, and by then my moans were very fucking audible. I didn't care anymore. I wanted him to hear me. I wanted him to know exactly how good he felt and how badly I'd needed him inside me.

He leaned close to my ear.

“You like being a slut in public, don't you?”

I moaned yes.

“You want someone to see you getting fucked like this?”

“Yes.”

Every time I admitted it, he fucked me harder.

He kept whispering about how hot it was, how naughty I was for letting him do this to me out in the open, and I answered him every single time.

I was completely drenched by then, my wetness literally running down my leg toward my knee.

I finally managed to tell him I was close.

And then he grabbed my hair.

Holy fuck.

It was somehow gentle and firm at the same time. Enough pressure to make me feel completely held without hurting. He kept me there with my hair gathered in his hand, pulling against it while he fucked me until another orgasm rolled through me.

My entire body started shaking against him.

And apparently that was the exact moment the universe decided we'd pushed our luck far enough.

The restaurant door opened.

Several of the waiters walked outside carrying trash.

We separated immediately. He pulled out and quickly buttoned his pants while I tried to make myself look remotely like a woman who had simply been standing beside her car in a pretty coral dress and definitely had not just been getting fucked against it.

We looked at each other.

There really wasn't much discussion necessary.

We were finishing this at his place.

And we did.

The rest of that night was fucking perfect.

But there's something about that parking lot that I still can't get out of my head.

Maybe it was the risk. Maybe it was hearing myself admit how much being exposed turned me on. Maybe it was the feeling of his hand in my hair while I came against him. Maybe it was knowing that at any second someone could walk around the corner and see exactly what we were doing.

Or maybe it was the contrast that gets me.

I'd walked into that restaurant hours earlier in embroidered flowers, pearls and heels, looking soft, feminine and put together.

Then I walked out and ended up with my dress around my hips, soaking wet, moaning loudly enough that I absolutely could have been heard, letting a man fuck me against my car in the restaurant parking lot.

And when people finally did come outside, we'd barely managed to stop in time.

I should probably be more embarrassed about that than I am.

Instead, every time I think about it, I remember exactly how fucking good it felt to discover just how much I enjoyed being anything but a good girl.