Anonymous and Loving It

I'm much like any other 18 year old girl you might meet – ex private school, uni fresher, Papa is paying the bills, and life is generally pretty cool. I'm not spoilt, but I have been brought up to appreciate the better things in life and in the main get what I want.

Being pretty helps – Papa falls for the sweet eyelash fluttering routine every time. I've noticed that wearing something revealing seems to help. Not that he'd ever do anything, but I catch him sneaking a look at my ass or a down blouse nipple peak – oh and he loves me bringing my friends around or me bringing them along for a drink with him and his mates. He's a sweetie really, but he is still a man and I'm sure he is imagining slipping his hardening cock into some young piece of cunt when we tease him and them – I really don't mind. Most of them are lovely blokes with wives who milk them for everything and never put out in return. A little thrill doesn't hurt.

Anyway, back to me (as always!!) - I'm not tall, perhaps 5'3", but I'm petite, slim and if you follow the line of the blouse or the party dress that I wear at the weekend, and catch a glimpse behind that mass of brown hair, you will see a decent rack mounted on the tiniest of frames. I'm a 32C, but on me it looks like a good D cup. I love those girls and they do me proud!

Most of my friends are super cute too. It's a bit of a cliché but we seem to attract each other and well, the ugly ones seem to enjoy each other's company too. If you could see our Facebook pages they are typical of our age, all drinking and posing, daring each other to wear the raciest of dresses and show just enough to maintain our prized 'hot' status.

It's probably true that we are self-obsessed attention seekers. If I could be bothered to think about it long enough I'd probably agree. But then that introspection ain't much fun. We are all in it for what we can get out of it and University seemed to offer the perfect opportunity to really let our hair down.

I'm not sure any of us knew why we were excited about going there. There is like this two or three year build up as you try and pick the place that is the coolest for nights out, but the reality is we just didn't know. Again, I don't think any of us could be bothered to really think about the details – typical of the Now-generation, we would just expect it to be there when we got there.

I ended up at one of the northern city universities thanks to my distinctly average results (too much partying, not enough studying) along with a few of my pals, though on different courses. My scraping in meant my acceptance was late and I was forced to take digs with a bunch of strangers, though the room is solo and I do have an en-suite, so I'm totally self contained when I want to be.

At first I was disappointed to be away from my mates 24/7, but after a week or two I began to enjoy mixing with other folk as well and then being able to hide away when me and my liver needed to chill out for a bit. It also means I do actually do some work, though the course is so easy and I have loads of time off to nip home, do sports or whatever.

A couple of semesters in and it really is this 'whatever' that is turning out to be the surprise. When I came to university I was not totally inexperienced in sex matters. A few boyfriends had cum and gone, if you excuse the pun, but none of them had rocked my world sexually. Oh, they are good looking for sure, all muscles and stamina, but technique 3/10, engagement 2/10 and chances of them not telling their mates they have had you and what your beaver regime was, nil/10.

And so as much as you may look at us and think we must be getting loads, a girl can still get an undeserved (or deserved) reputation for being a slut/whore/slag/cum-dumpster all too easily. And you know what? It is the other girls who decide that reputation.

What is appropriate you ask? A steady boyfriend is dull, worse still if he is at home. One at home and a fuck-buddy at uni are ok, as are a couple of friends with benefits at uni. However, stray into pulling and fucking a different guy every week and the veneer of super coolness that most girls try to exhibit just melts away and you become a threat – any guy they pull is sure to be taken by you and whether they like the guy or not, that means bitch war. Ugly.

And then there is the other side of sex – the kinky, experimental side. Go down that road and you are labelled in a heartbeat. Share a bed with another girl and have a little 'play' and you are a screaming dyke; admit to taking it up the ass and you may as well walk the streets; anything tie and tease and well, might as well rename the room the 'dungeon'. All in all, just when we should be trying everything, what we are really discovering is society's prejudices.

And so here is where I discovered that the anonymous thing works. I have spent 6 months having lots of the best, most novel sex you can almost imagine and nobody is any the wiser.

The first time I realised was when a few of us ventured to an R&B club on a Sunday night. When I walked in it was incredible – almost totally black guys and white girls. I was actually quite frightened at first and some of the guys were really aggressive in their manner. Soon though a few drinks had been taken and we had split into smaller groups of two and three.

I had found a lovely guy, John-Paul, who was such fun and a great dancer. Soon some of the girls were leaving and it was clear I should go too, but John-Paul insisted on giving me his number and that I should ring him. The next day, alone in the flat I thought, fuck it, why not. An hour later I had slipped out, tight jeans, tiny blouse and all hair and makeup intact to meet my date at his house.

What a place it was -great house, sports car on the drive, mega music system throughout the place. Spend too much time with students and you can forget that some people don't live like pigs! Wine wasn't the cheap stuff and well, drinking in the late afternoon with nowhere else to go felt so decadent I guess I started to get cocky. That nobody knew where I was didn't strike me as dangerous, but liberating. I could do or be whatever I wanted.

I thought of dear old Papa, a closet racist if ever there was one and what he would have said if he could have seen me now, slightly pissed in a black guy's flat and getting hornier by the second. As he poured another drink I walked up behind him, covered the glass and simply said 'I think I have had enough', spun him round, looked up at his handsome features and kissed him hard on the lips. It would be the last time I was in control of anything in this situation.

All 6' of John-Paul took charge. In minutes I was naked with his big fingers and tongue probing every inch of my body. As I began to lose myself in the onslaught suddenly he was ordering me onto my knees. As he stripped off his own top I reached for his zipper. I wasn't so confident now, but he just swept my hands away and tore open his jeans. There were no boxers, no shorts underneath just this big fat black cock that was almost hard. He grabbed it by the base and rammed it into my gaping mouth. To instruction about getting it wet for fucking I was slobbering up and down it like a rank amateur. He knew it and began to tease and instruct in equal measure. I loved the degrading nature of what was happening. I wanted to be shown what to do, how to fuck.

As soon as he was fully hard I was pushed back onto the sofa and my legs rudely pushed into the air. He told me he wanted me to see my first black cock entering my 'virgin pussy' (his words not mine!) and with that began to push what must have been 8" of thick cock into my tiny pussy. God it hurt – not totally bad, but this was something beyond what I was used to.

He spat on my pussy for more lube a couple of times, something I would have freaked at normally, but this was something totally new. I was no better than a cheap slut coming off the street to fuck him. There was no way this was heading for relationship city – nope, we just needed to fuck. At that moment, with him totally buried in me, I could picture my Dad walking in, struggling to decide whether this was the hottest scene ever, or a scar on the face of the family. I plumped for the latter and imagined him wanking himself off as I cried out in orgasm skewered by this black stud.

I had cum at least twice when I was picked up and hung over the arm of the sofa, face down and ass up. I felt so exposed like this. He ran his cock down my ass crack, slick with my pussy juices that were pouring out. He playfully poked it at my ass, but I jumped and he burst out laughing saying that was for another day, before plunging back into from behind. Jesus H Christ I just about passed out as he powered in and out grabbing my tits hard as he did so.

I was thrashing about like I was having a fit, but he just didn't slow down. This was no making love – this was brutal fucking, a show of animal strength. In all I reckon he must have gone at me like that for over 45 minutes, no respite. Without warning he pulled it out, spun me round again and jammed two fingers of his left hand up my pussy and onto my G-spot – one of my hands grabbed his wrist to hold him there and the second reached up to cover his right hand pumping his cock furiously in my face.

I watched that gorgeous mushroom headed cock erupt right into my face – this was a first – us hot teens don't like our hair messing with, but this guy wasn't going to take no for an answer and this was him claiming his prize. I was covered in the mess and then his cock was pushed back in my mouth with an instruction to clean him good. I did. I never went back.

After I had left, I knew I was onto something. I had done a black guy, a bit of a no-no amongst us 'marry well' girls, but nobody would ever know unless I told them. I made up my mind to try other opportunities as they came and that if I was to get them I probably needed to look outside the University for my Social Life.

Friday night that followed brought the first chance for something different. I decided to burn a bit of Papa's money in one of the posh hotel bars rather than in the union bar. After the first drink I didn't put my hand in my pocket once. A sequence of, well, mostly creepy guys offered to buy me a drink, keen to see if I was a girl on my own in the hotel for the night. I'm sure a few patrons thought I must be a hooker touting for custom.

I was getting particularly bothered by one guy who had rather got me pinned at the bar. The situation looked like a blow out when we were interrupted by a gorgeous blonde MILF (I watch porn too...) who announced that she was glad she had finally found me and that the champagne was getting warm, before plonking a bucket of bubbly on the bar, giving the guy one quick glance that said 'fuck off now' and pulling up a stool right in front of me.

She had spotted I looked in bother and introduced herself as Kylie, a dentist with some consultancy work to do the next day in town. She was staying in the hotel and offered to keep me company for a while until the hounds had been called off. Well, half an hour later we were having a really blast, bitching about the other people in the bar, talking work and uni life, holidays and shopping.

This was the woman I wanted to be when I got older. She was about my height I guess, similar build to me, although her ass was a little rounder it was awesome, the whole look so gorgeous and yet about 40 (she wouldn't say). Fab dress sense and hair, mega chat, confidence in spades and a good career was the package to die for, but didn't explain the lack of husband or kid talk. I had to ask – she explained it just wasn't for her.

She liked her single life, and that it was selfish enough for her to do what she wanted, when and with whom she wanted. Holidays with men and women had been mentioned so I didn't really pay too much attention to the comment. Then she asked me why I was sitting in a hotel bar all dolled up and all alone.

Shit, this was a tricky one. I plumped for the truth and told her about my quest to try and 'meet' different people for new experiences. She seemed fascinated by this. Suddenly she said it was getting on and she really had to eat, but didn't want to get a table and preferred room service, but did I want to join her as we were having so much fun. Cool I thought, I get to see what the rooms are like. Sometimes I guess I can be a bit naive.

Up in the fabulous suite room we ordered food and set about another bottle of champagne. It sure beat pints of cheap lager and the stink of the usual student bars. Like I said, I like the finer things. And then she went for the jugular by asking about the new experiences I had tried already. Again I stuttered to an answer and then coaxed along began to tell the tale of last Monday. She laughed and feigned amazement at my exploits. I got the feeling she could trump my tale but didn't tease me about how 'daring' it was of me to fuck a black guy, but simply said she loved my story and wished she could have been there.

And then she kissed me.

I was paralysed. I was kind of responding, but slowly and uncertainly. She kept kissing me and a hand began to stroke my arm with what felt like pure electricity. She stopped for a moment, looked at me and reminded me that nobody knew I was here and that my new experiences could continue right now if I wanted them to. She was so right. She was so gorgeous. I was so taken. I was hers.

I asked what she had in mind. 'Fucking' came the one word answer. She stripped her own top off first and revealed a set of tits so like my own, just heading a little south and a few blemishes, but with these rock hard pencil eraser nipples where mine are soft and pink with tiny little centres on large areolas. They were beautiful.

She made me stand and dropped my dress to the floor before reaching round me and grabbing my bra encased tits for a feel. I could feel hers pressing into my back, the first time a nearly naked woman had held me in a passionate way. My head fell back raising my titties up into her grasp still further. My bra was removed in an instance and my tits groped again, kneading from back to front as if trying to get my milk to come out, so firm but so gentle at the same time. And then one hand dropped behind me and between my legs.

A firm finger pressed urgently at my sodden slit, running from clit to anus, slowly sawing back and forwards, pushing the silky material up into my pussy. I reached back trying to catch something of her, but again she was in charge, not me. Then that same finger slipped up the side of my knickers and straight up my pussy. She groaned and muttered 'gorgeous' in my ear – I nearly bloody exploded!

A brief pause told me she was undressing and I wanted to see it. I turned round and witnessed this beautiful tanned woman stand right in front of me with not a stitch of clothing left on. Her pussy was bald, absolutely smooth, giving her the appearance of almost a pre-teen with great tits. Being darker and not a fan of the 'shadow' I keep mine (you've been dying to know haven't you?) as a short soft cover. Fortunately I'm not overly hairy and it is soft, and I find one of the horniest things is to see it matted with cum sprayed from a newly fucked cock.

I digress – we were now locked together in the most passionate snog I think I have ever enjoyed. Our hands roamed across each other's naked breasts, asses and pussies. These were first after first after first for me. I was fascinated by these breasts, delighted at the way I could make them harden and jump at my touch, and then tentatively I let a hand stray down to her pussy.

The heat from it was amazing. It was almost like bursting it as I felt just a glistening around there at first, but as I penetrated what was obviously a well kept vagina (no kids through here for sure!) her fluids simply flooded out, her body going noticeably limp at that moment. I clumsily spread the juices around and even cheekily stuck the end of my finger up her now well lubed anal entrance. She pulled back for a moment and was grinning. She grabbed my hand and brought it up to her mouth. Simultaneously she forced her fingers into mine so at the same moment we tasted each other for the first time. She tasted good. I was surprised I hadn't backed off, but it felt natural.

I was easily toppled back onto the bed. She stood over me and feasted on the view. I asked if she liked soft fresh 18 year old girls. She replied that she was about to find out. I was something different for her too! Now I understood why SHE liked to be single. She wasn't some butch dyke picking up girls in hotels, but just like me, an opportunist, anonymously taking advantage of situations like this.

She bent down, kissed me on the lips and then began to work down my body towards my throbbing pussy. As she did she said she assumed it was my first time with another woman so she would show me what to do first. As her tongue ran teasingly down my pouting slit I almost came there and then. It took just a couple of minutes for the real thing. I was on fire and everything shook.

She gave me no chance to stop though and was suddenly over my face and lowering her own pussy onto my face. I suddenly had a vision of what I was doing but that nobody knew, just Kylie and I. I had no need to hold back and I didn't – I gorged on that beautiful woman like a porn star.

She came gratifyingly quickly, we tribbed to a mutual orgasm and we kissed and cuddled, groped and squeezed, keeping each other going for nigh on an hour. As we tried to draw breath, she said that now she would really fuck me and slipped from the bed.

As she walked back in, there between her legs was a lovely big black strap on, probably not unlike John-Paul for size. She asked how long he had lasted and then bet me this would be better. I wasn't inclined to disagree. As she mounted me in the missionary position and slowly inserted the hard phallus into me her eyes were full of lust, her teeth gritted and then it started, the pumping rhythm so familiar.

It felt good to be able to kiss as we fucked, doubly good that there was this amazing pair of tits to hang onto as well, dangling into my eager mouth as she drove into me ever harder. As I stole a glimpse of the cock pulling out, there was a creamy white cum being forced out of me in a quantity I did not believe.

Then she shouted over her shoulder. 'Don't just stand there, get undressed' – what the fuck! It was the bell boy with the food. I say boy, he was a gorgeous young guy who had just gotten luckier than he could ever believe. Kylie urged him to help her fuck me, grabbing his rock hard cock and dragging him over to the bed, before feeding it into my mouth.

I was being double teamed for the first time in my life now, with a woman and a guy I had never even spoken to. This was so wild. What followed got even wider as they swapped ends with me on all fours taking him in my cunt (it felt like a cunt, not a pussy, now it was so depraved) while deep -throating her dildo like the porn queen I was playing.

And then she pulled out and stripped off the dildo ordering me to put it on. The boy looked a little crestfallen at his loss of orifice to fuck, but didn't have to wait long. He was going to get two for the price of one tonight. As soon as the plastic cock was on me, Kylie sank down onto it. As soon as she was comfortable, she motioned him to get up behind her.

At first he looked confused, and then she started to rub him up and down her ass. I'd never seen anal before let alone done it and here she was about to give me the kinkiest of demo's. As he was about to enter she whispered that my finger had got her anal juices up earlier and that she loved this from time to time, but this double was to be an ambition fulfilled.