I was brought up in a nice middle class family, the youngest of four children and the only girl. I went to a private school, on to Uni where I discovered that I liked sex. Actually liked is an understatement. I loved it, adored fucking and couldn't get enough cock. During the three years I was there I was very promiscuous and was probably fucked by about thirty or forty guys as well as being sexually intimate with a couple of girls. When I was 25, I married Brendan, a guy from a similar background. The sex was good at first, plenty of it and we fucked most days. I'd have like to have been more adventurous but my suggestion that we have sex in the garden, which isn't overlooked was met with horror and a stark refusal. You'd have thought I wanted him to fuck me outside Buckingham Palace from his reaction. Over time the initial lust declined, sex became less frequent, largely because he often put his career above all else, including me and sex. I found it frustrating relying on my trusty vibrators, dildos, vivid imagination and more recently SH for inspiration, and some sexual satisfaction. Nice as pleasuring myself was it wasn't enough. There was a guy I worked with who had been trying to get into my knickers for months. I did quite fancy him, but wasn't prepared to risk letting him fuck me, mainly because I suspected he'd boast about it, soon everyone would know and almost inevitably someone would tell Brendan. By accident I found another outlet for my frustrations which has finally led to me being fucked by another guy. A beautiful summers day last year. I was out shopping, wearing a fairly short, wrap-over dress made from a light, floaty material. I noticed men looking at me as I walked, which isn't particularly unusual. It wasn't until I saw my reflection in a shop window that I realised why they were showing more interest than normal. I gust of wind caught the front of my dress, blowing the front open, almost to the belt around my waist, revealing my panties. If I'd been wearing plain cotton panties they may not have been so interested. On that day I was wearing a pair of tiny panties, made from a filmy, transparent material, which did nothing to conceal my shaven mound or the top of my gash, in the few seconds the dress was open. My immediate reaction was to hold the dress closed. As I continued walking towards the multi storey car park, I wondered how many guys had noticed they could see my pussy through the sheer panties. I was surprised that rather than being embarrassed it excited me and when I saw a couple of men walking towards me I moved my hand from the dress. Just as I hoped, the wind caught the dress, blowing it open as they approached. I could see their eyes looking down, staring at my pussy as we passed. I carried on walking nonchalantly, as if I was oblivious that I was exposing myself. By the time I reached the car I was so elated that I sat in the drivers seat masturbating until I climaxed. Having discovered my exhibitionist streak I wanted to do it again. It was almost three weeks before I had the chance of a repeat, then I did it again two or three days later. I got a kick from doing it, but realised I would find it even more exciting if I wasn't wearing any panties. The next time I went I was naked under my dress. I drove to a garden centre, waited in the car for a few minutes, until a guy started loading his car nearby. I started to get out, one foot on the ground, then leant over to the passenger side, opening my legs, exposing my pussy to him as I pretended to look for something in my handbag. I couldn't see if he was looking, but I flashed him for about 20 seconds and when I finally climbed out I was rewarded by the sight of him with his hand in his pocket adjusting his cock. Over last summer I became quite adept a accidentally flashing my pussy at guys. One of my favourites was a building site in a side street where they were excavating below street level. I strolled along the pavement, stopping next to the chain link fence where the guys working below could look up my skirt. As my confidence grew I got more daring, dropping all pretence that it was accidental, holding the dress open, exposing my cunt to them, listening to their lewd comments and and laughing off their invitations to join them or meet later for a fuck. There were some rough looking hunks amongst them, the sort of guys I find attractive and I was sorely tempted to take up the offers. Once the summer was over I needed another way to feed my compulsion to expose my sex to guys. A story on here solved that, late night shopping, wearing very short mini skirts. Bending over to reach an item or crouching with my knees apart flashing my pussy at guys kept me entertained and horny. I would normally sit in the supermarket car park afterwards and play with myself. My mind would often drift from the guys I'd flashed that night to the builders in the summer. Increasingly I regretted not taking up the invitations to meet with the builders for a fuck and knew that if I had the chance I would probably be unable to resist having sex with one of the rough types that turn me on. My attraction for a bit of rough, probably goes back to my time as a student when, on and off for about six months, I went out with Matt who worked as a doorman at a club. He was a big guy, uncouth, boorish and foul mouthed. Every other word was Fuck, Cunt, Fucking, usually followed by Twat, Wanker, Tosser or similar. For some reason I found his vulgarity a turn on, his crudity exciting. The way he demanded sex, sometimes in front of his mates or fucking me in places we'd be seen and watched which I found incredibly arousing. He often fucked me roughly, holding me down while he rammed his cock into my pussy or up my arse, pulling my hair while he shoved his cock in my mouth and fucked my face. I can't say why but I adored being taken by him, giving in to his demands to arse fuck me, even though it was sometimes painful if he didn't spit on my bum or lubricate his cock in my cunt first. I always had an amazing orgasm with him. I'd enjoyed it at the time and now in my mid thirties, and though married, I was frustrated by the lack of sex and ripe for the taking in the event of meeting another guy like Matt. Early this month I took time off to do some gardening and I got my chance. The first two days were cloudy and cool enough to need a coat. Then it improved, the sun shining. I have a nice figure and good legs and wore a loose vest top, my firm 34dd tits braless underneath. I slipped on a pair of cut-off denim shorts, I'd fashioned from some old jeans. When I'd done it I had cut them higher than I'd intended. Trying to get each leg level I ended up with little more than the sown seam between my legs, not that it mattered that my pussy was barely covered and the curve of my bum cheeks visible, out in the secluded garden. Close to lunch time I had several bags of garden waste to take to the dump. I loaded them into the back of my car and went to wash my hands and brush my hair, fetched myself a drink and went back outside and sat on the patio in the sun. The warm sun reminded me of holidays and sex and that it was well over a week since we'd last fucked and two or three days since I'd had the chance to masturbate. Feeling horny I put my drink down, unfastened my shorts, slid my hand inside and began to play with myself in the garden. I was just getting into it nicely when my mobile rang and I stopped to answer it. My husband ringing to remind me he'd be away overnight and wouldn't be home until the next evening. The call had spoilt the moment and I decided I may as well drive to the dump. It was a nice day and decided not to bother changing into jeans or put on a bra for the 45 minutes it would take. I put the car into Drive and drove with one hand between my legs, idly playing with my pussy, hoping I might see a guy to flash, I pulled in to the dump, the man on the gate, told me which skip to put my waste in, all the time, looking at my legs and down the front of my top trying to see my tits. I drove to the skip, stopping near it, noticing a guy unloading a truck, watching me. He was mid to late twenties, wearing jeans and T- shirt, neither none to clean, muscular, his arms covered in tattoos, his broad chest straining the T-shirt. I immediately thought of Matt, an image of him naked and fucking me flashed through my mind. The unexpected memory of him was enough to send a shiver through my body, making my already hard nipples stiffen and my pussy dribble more sex juice The guy was still watching me. I glanced at him for a second look. He was unshaven, several days growth. He was the sort of guy I fantasised about when masturbating, who I found inexplicably attractive. I wondered how big his cock was, imagining him fucking me, deciding to give him a flash. I started to open the door, then stopped reaching down to adjust the material between my legs, smiling to myself when I felt how wet my pussy was. I moved my fingers, taking a sharp intake of breath as they brushed my still swollen clitoris. The urge to expose myself to him was uncontrollable. All this happened in probably less than 30 seconds. I could see him from the corner of my eye, muscles bulging as he lifted the remaining heavy sack. I'd shaved my pussy in the shower that morning, my fingers touching the smooth skin as I tugged the revealing shorts to one side uncovering my pussy. Before I could change my mind, I opened the car door. I could see him looking as I swung one leg out, swivelled around, sitting with my legs apart, wantonly exposing my wet and by then gaping cunt to him, while I fiddled with the ignition key. 10 or 15 seconds at most, but my heart was thumping as I swung the other leg out, smiled at him stood and walked to the back of the car, provocatively swinging my hips. I opened the hatchback, leaning in to pull out the first garden waste bag. I knew the shorts would be tightly moulded to my pert bum, my cheeks partly uncovered. I reached in further, raising a leg off the ground, certain he could see my sex when I felt the slight breeze on my wet cunt. As I hoped I heard him approaching. I put my foot back on the ground, turning my head, smiling innocently as he reached me. “They look fucking heavy. Want a hand?” he asked. I told him I'd be very grateful and moved out of his way as he grabbed the first bag, lifting it easily, looking down my top at my tits as he turned . A few bits fell out. I started to bend over to pick them up, then changed my mind, instead crouching with my legs apart, pulling my shorts far as I could to the side, uncovering my pussy while his back was towards me. He could hardly not notice when he turned. He walked slowly back, a grin on his face, staring at my pussy until he was next to me, pulling me to my feet. “Nice cunt” he commented, waiting while I dropped the bits I'd picked up in the next bag before he carried it to the skip. I sat on the edge of the boot, legs slightly apart, watching him as he easily threw the bag into the skip. He seemed to ignore my pussy walking back “Get your fucking tits out too” he grunted. A quick look around, out of sight of the portacabin, hidden behind the car I pulled my top up, uncovering my tits. He reached out squeezing them, rolling my nipples between finger and thumb, pulling and pinching them hard. I bit my lip, unable to prevent a moan of desire when he cupped my tits in his large hands, squashing them together, pinching my nipples harder. “Not fucking bad for small tits. Big uns are better” He commented, stopped pinching my nipples and picked up the two remaining bags carrying them to the skip. He heaved them in, turned. “You're not a fucking cockteaser are you?” he asked brusquely. “What do you think?” I replied, opening my legs wider, pulling the material away and dipping a finger into my pussy, then raising it to my mouth, sucking off my sex juices. “Are you going to just stand there and watch or do you want to fuck me?” I asked throatily, surprising myself by how confident I felt as I slipped two fingers back into my pussy. “Fucking right I do” he replied, grabbing my wrist, pulling my fingers from my cunt, before wrapping his fingers around the material between my legs. I felt his knuckles rubbing against my pussy as he pulled and twisted the material until the stitches started to break. He twisted harder, ripping the strip of denim , leaving it dangling from the back, my pussy completely exposed. He led me between two nearby large skips, put my hand on the front of his jeans, I could feel the outline of what felt like a fairly large erect cock. “That's what you want in your cunt isn't it you posh fucking tart” he crudely told me. I nodded, then found my voice. “Are you going to fuck me here?” I asked, aware of the sounds of vehicles and people not far away. “No one will see us and if anyone does I'll tell them to fuck off” he replied. I glanced around. We were well concealed, hidden by the skips on one side and screening shrubs next to the fence on the other. I was desperate for his cock. Eager for him to fuck me. I decided it was worth the slight risk of being caught and began to stroke his cock. He stooped slightly, pushing two large dirty, calloused fingers into my dripping fuck hole, fingering me. His other hand unfastened the remains of my shorts, tugging them down my legs. I stepped out of them, he picked them up and threw them behind me. He began moving his fingers faster, squeezing one of my tits, pinching the nipple, leaning down, taking the other nipple in his mouth sucking it hard. I moaned, grinding my cunt against hand, murmuring that I wanted him to fuck and began to rub his cock harder, through his jeans. He stopped fingering me and mauling my tits, put his hands on my shoulders, gripping my vest top, pushing me down, pulling my top over my head as I sank to my knees in front of him. “Unzip me and suck my cock you fucking Slut” he demanded. I was now completely naked, only yards from people dumping rubbish. I didn't care, I found it amazingly arousing. I undid his jeans, unzipped them, easing his cock out. About 7 inches, perhaps a bit more and very thick which I like. He pushed my head towards his erection, telling me to suck it. I wrapped my hand around his throbbing prick, wanking him, inhaling the smell of his perspiration. I stuck my tongue out, licked his sweaty balls, along the underside of his shaft, running it around his knob, a slight taste of piss before I took the tip between my lips, the piss flavour mingling with his tasty precum. I was well passed the point of no return, my fingers slipping into my pussy, masturbating as I sucked his cock into my mouth. He grabbed my hair, memories of Matt again, as he shoved his cock deeper into my mouth, fucking my face, stopping only when I grabbed his cock to prevent myself gagging. He pulled me to my feet, “Turn around and bend over you fucking whore” he hissed, pushing me towards the skip. His behaviour and language where exciting me. It was along time since I'd felt so aroused, I put my hands against the side of the huge skip, bent over, spreading my legs, offering him my cunt. “Go on. Fuck me. Ram your big cock in my cunt. I want your spunk you dirty bastard” I urged him over my shoulder. I watched him, stroking his hard cock as he moved behind me, felt him rubbing his knob back and fore along my slit before holding it steady, guiding it in to my hole and just as I'd urged, ramming it into me hard. He moved his hands to my hips, holding tightly as he pulled out then slammed it back inside my cunt. I braced myself against the skip, looking down, watching my tits shudder with each hard, deep thrust. He moved his hands, spat on my bum, spread his saliva around my anus worked a finger up my arse. “Yes. Do my arse” I demanded. He pushed a second finger in, finger fucking my bum hole. He fucked me faster, his thick shaft stretching my hole deliciously, his heavy balls slapping my clit each time he fully penetrated my appreciative pussy. Five minutes of hard fucking and I felt the first flutters of an imminent orgasm, then my cunt muscles rippling along his hard shaft, a warm glow centred on my cunt radiating out. My body flushing, nipples almost painfully erect, my tits hot and pink as I got closer to climaxing. I began to moan, and sigh, begging him not to stop, to fuck me harder, then as I orgasmed pleading with him to cum inside me. He fucked me for another minute or so before pumping a heavy load of spunk, in three or four spurts, into my receptive cunt. He pulled out, his spunk running from my hole when I stood. He bent over and picked up my top. I reached for it. Instead of handing it to me he wiped his cock on it before throwing it to me. I slipped it over my head, pulling it down to just below my tummy button, while he tucked his softening cock away. I looked around for the remains of my shorts, intending to put them on hoping they'd at least partly cover my pussy. I spotted then hanging on the top of the skip out of my reach. I pulled the top lower but no way would it cover me. I could hear the sound of a lorry reversing close by and asked if I could borrow his t shirt. “Fuck off. You can flash your cunt at some more guys as you are” he laughed. The skip next to me moved as the lorry reversed up to it ready to lift it. “Bastard” I snapped at him, unable to completely hide my grin, as I followed along side the skip towards my car, passing the lorry driver as he checked his positioning. He face was a picture when he saw me. Naked from the waist down, pussy gaping, shining with juices, obviously just been fucked, with spunk dangling from my cunt and running down my thighs. I reached my car, found a plastic bag to sit on and climbed in. The guy bent down to the window and asked if I fancied a drink that evening at about 8pm. I asked where. He named a pub which I was only aware of because of it's reputation, on a run down housing estate on the opposite side of town from the village I live in. I said I'd think about it. He laughed “I've fucked stuck up sluts like you, who fancy a bit of rough, before. You'll be there” he told me confidently. I closed the window and drove off, still tingling with the excitement of what I'd just done. I got home without incident, parked at the side of the house and let myself in without being seen by any of the neighbours. It wasn't until I was standing in front of the mirror naked, looking at the dirty smudges on my body from his hands, spunk still seeping from my pussy, that I realised that I didn't even know the name of the guy I'd sucked and who'd just fucked me. What a Slut you are Stephanie I told my grinning reflection Did I go and meet him that evening? Of course I did. I was unable to resist the temptation of being fucked again by my bit of rough. Anyway, I had to find out his name too. It's not exactly very classy not knowing who's fucked you is it? I've not got time to finish today, a rare business trip to Germany for a few days, so I'll continue my story when I return and tell you what happened if anyone is interested.