I fucked a guy in the grocery store parking lot!

The fluorescent lights of the supermarket were fucking blinding, and I could already feel a headache coming on. Lucas was out with his mates for poker night, and the cupboards were bare. I sighed, staring into the fridge like a meal would magically appear. It didn’t. So, fuck it. I ran upstairs, a devious little idea forming in my mind. If I had to do this boring shit, I was gonna make it fun.

I pulled on the tiniest black mini skirt I owned—the one Lucas says he can barely keep his hands off—and a little white crop top that showed a sinful strip of my stomach. No bra. My tits aren’t as perky as they were at twenty, but they’ve got a nice, full weight to them that men seem to love. And definitely no panties. What’s the point? I slicked back my hair, did my eyes up all dark and smoky, and doused myself in this perfume that smells like jasmine and pure fucking sin. I looked like a midlife crisis version of a 90s pop star, but it made me feel powerful. Alive. I slipped out before he could get back and see me dressed like a common slut for a trip to buy fucking milk and bread.

The store was its usual dull self. I got the stuff, smirking to myself as I bent over to get a bottle of wine from the bottom shelf, knowing full well I was giving the security camera a prime view of everything I had to offer. I paid, the cashier’s eyes glued to my cleavage, and walked out into the damp evening air of the car park.

I was fumbling in my purse for my keys when I heard a low whistle. I looked up. Leaning against a beat-up black sedan was a bloke. Looked to be in his late thirties, maybe. Built solid, like he worked with his hands. Dark hair, scruff on his jaw, and eyes that were already undressing me. He had a confidence about him, a raw energy that hit me right in the gut.

“All that for a pint of milk?” he asked, his voice a low gravelly thing that vibrated right through me.

I felt a thrill shoot straight to my core. This was it. This was why I’d done it. “Maybe I was hoping for something with a bit more protein,” I shot back, leaning against my own car, letting my legs slide apart just a little.

He pushed off his car and walked over, not breaking eye contact. He didn’t say another word. He just grabbed me, his hands rough on my hips, and spun me around to face my car, bending me over the boot. My heart was hammering against my ribs, a mixture of shock and pure, unadulterated lust. I gasped as he yanked my skirt up around my waist, exposing my bare arse to the cool night air.

And then his hand came down on me. Hard. A sharp, stinging smack that made me jolt forward and cry out. It wasn’t a playful tap. It was a proper, punishing slap. Before I could even catch my breath, another one landed, and then another, a relentless volley of hard, fast smacks on my bare skin. I’d told Lucas I liked a bit of spanking, yeah, but this was something else entirely. This was brutal, and it was happening without a single word of discussion, without any warm-up. The pain was immediate and intense, a sharp, burning sensation that spread across my entire arse. I tried to push myself up, to turn my head and say something—to tell him to slow down, maybe, or to fucking stop—but I didn’t get the chance.

He shoved me down harder against the cold metal of the car boot, his hand tangling in my hair and forcing my head down. With his other hand, he was fumbling with his belt and zip, and then his cock was out, thick and hard and already leaking. He didn’t ask. He didn’t tease. He just pushed my head towards it, holding me there. “Open up,” he grunted, and it was less a request and more a command.

I opened my mouth, and he shoved himself inside, fucking my face with rough, shallow thrusts. I gagged instantly, tears springing to my eyes as he hit the back of my throat. Saliva pooled in my mouth and dripped down my chin, making a mess of both of us. I couldn’t breathe, I could only choke and sputter around his length, my nostrils filled with the musky, masculine scent of him. And the whole time, his other hand never stopped smacking my arse. The sharp, rhythmic pain was a bizarre counterpoint to the gagging. The shock of each blow made my whole body clench, and the involuntary moans that were forced out of me around his cock were muffled, desperate sounds.

The humiliation of it, the sheer animalistic roughness, should have made me fight back. But it had the opposite effect. A dark, deep heat was spreading through me, a pool of wetness gathering between my legs that was absolutely soaking. The pain started to blur, melting into a throbbing, intense pleasure. Each smack felt like it was sending a jolt straight to my clit. I was moaning for real now, a continuous, needy sound vibrating around his shaft. My hands, which had been braced against the car, slid. I was completely at his mercy, bent over a car boot in a public car park, getting my face ruthlessly fucked and my arse turned bright red.

He finally pulled his cock out of my mouth with a wet pop, a string of spit still connecting my lips to his tip. I gasped for air, my lungs burning, my face a wet mess of tears and drool. He didn’t give me a second to recover. He used his grip on my hair to keep me bent over, and I felt the broad, hot head of his cock pressing against my soaking wet entrance. He didn’t tease. He didn’t play. He just shoved himself inside me in one brutal, deep thrust.

I screamed. It was a raw, ragged sound that tore from my throat. He was so fucking big, and he filled me completely, stretching me in a way Lucas hadn’t in years. He didn’t wait for me to adjust. He just started fucking me, hard and fast and deep, his hips slamming against my sore, burning arse with every thrust. The pain from the spanking mixed with the overwhelming fullness, creating this insane, mind-blowing cocktail of sensation. I was seeing stars, my fingers scrambling for purchase on the slick metal of the car boot.

“That’s it, you dirty fucking slut,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “Take that cock. You love it, don’t you? Love getting used like a fucking whore in a car park.”

I couldn’t even form words. I just moaned and pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, wanting him deeper, harder. The sounds were obscene—the slap of his skin against mine, his grunts, my helpless cries. I felt my orgasm building, a terrifyingly fast wave that was going to wreck me. It crashed over me without warning, a convulsive, screaming climax that ripped through my body, my muscles clamping down on his cock like a vice. He swore, his rhythm faltering for a second before he drove into me even harder, pounding me through my shaking, overwhelming orgasm. With a final, guttural roar, he came, pumping his release deep inside me, his body shuddering against mine.

He stayed there for a moment, buried inside me, both of us panting and sweating in the cool air. Then he pulled out, and I almost collapsed onto the boot. I heard him zipping up his jeans. I slowly pushed myself up, my legs trembling violently, my skirt falling back down. I turned to look at him. He was just adjusting his shirt, looking as calm as if he’d just taken a stroll.

He gave me a slow, wicked smirk. “Enjoy your shopping, love.” And with that, he turned and walked back to his car, got in, and drove off.

I stood there, leaning against my car, trying to catch my breath. My arse was on fire, my pussy was throbbing, and I could feel his cum already starting to trickle down my thigh. I was a complete mess. And all I could think about was getting home as fast as possible, walking into the living room where Lucas would be, and telling him every single filthy, degrading detail. I could already picture the look on his face, the way his eyes would darken with lust. I smoothed down my skirt, got in my car, and drove home, a satisfied smile playing on my well-fucked lips.