I'm Sarah and occasionally I dip into the stories on here. I've had a profile on here a few times too but haven't had one on SH for a couple of years. I will say right from the off that I am submissive sexually. It's not a lifestyle thing for me though. In the real world I'm a hard working professional mum of two, I'm on the local pfa, and I'm generally involved in my local community. I'm 50 and was 48 when all this took place. I;m 5ft5, size 12 to 14. I'm a 34b now but have had breast reduction surgery. Two years ago I was a 34f. Anyway I dipped into the stories last night and found one that actually refers to me. I haven't posted anything here for a few years, although I have been fairly active meeting guys, couples, and groups Anyway I had a profile on the pof dating site for a while and came across Grant. I'm in Worthing and he was in Chichester. What I liked apart from his pics, is that everything seemed normal but he listed "kink" and "spanking" as interests. We exchanged a few messages before I mentioned his interests, and slowly it became clear we would be compatible, although I wanted a relationship a bit more than he did. Anyway that particular Friday was a bit of a nightmare for me work wise. I'd planned to finish early, go home for a soak in the bath, shave my pussy silky smooth, wear my best underwear, and something sexy but slutty. My favorite was a short tight red pvc shirt, latex storkings with heels that from a distance looked like boots, half cup bra and slightly see through white top. All hidden under a coat. However I got stuck in a meeting and had to go in my business attire, which from memory was an oragey jacket, white blouse, pencil skirt, stockings, heels and, as I was to regret later, sensible underwear. Throughout that day we did text a lot. I take instructions very well and particularly love role play. He had told me that this was to be all normal and vanilla. We'd chat like a normal date but if I wanted to submit to him I was to excuse myself to go to the toilet, remove my panties, and hand them to him. If I wanted him to fuck me that night, I was to remove them there at the table and hand them to him. Anyway I was running late even without going home first. It was dark, around 8pm by the time I pulled into at Crossbush. I texted him to say I was there and he told me where he was sitting. I'd met countless guys before then, had turned up to houses naked, been used by groups for weekends, been the centre of attention at fetish clubs in London, been led around Olympia wearing a leather bikini, collar and lead, with slut written on me whilst literally anyone who wanted could grope and finger me. BUT I was nervous. So big breath, touch up my make up, just in case I freshened up my cunt with a wet wipe and headed in. In the flesh he was just my type, tall, bit younger than me, full head of hair, big smile, and part of me wanted to skip the charade of a chat. However we spoke about the usual stuff for maybe 20 minutes before I discreetly took my knickers off and passed them to him. He spread them on the table and laughed..they were probably my worst looking big knickers, but made up for it by being super comfortable. I felt that tinge of humiliation that i liked. Things changed and as I had my back to the (pretty empty) bar, he just un buttoned my blouse and polled my bra down. My nipples were hard at the thought of what I was doing. I can't remember exactly what he did and in what order but for the next hour he pinched my nipples hard, put his fingers in both my holes, all the time in a public place. The young lad collecting our glasses couldn't believe his luck when he realised my tits were out. Finally it was time to leave. He couldn't come back to mine because of my children and (as I later found out) he is married so I couldn't go ti his place. I offered to book a room at the travelodge next door but he said no. He insisted on outdoors which both scared and thrilled me. Previously I was arrested for "gross indecency" and hauled into a police station for having sex with three young lads in their late teens (whilst I was around 40) at Climping beach but luckily it all got dropped and I was never formally charged or anything. So outdoor stuff still scares me. I followed him...god knows where but onto what seemed to be a private estate. No lighting which made me feel good. He was in a van, and me in my (modest) mercedes. It was no more than 5 minutes of driving when he pulled over onto what I guess was a dog walkers car park on the edge of some woods. We were the only vehicles there. My cunt was literally dripping when I got out of the car and he man handled me down onto my knees in the mud. This was just what I needed, and it got better when he roughly forced his cock into my mouth and within a few seconds I was gagging, not that it stopped him from forcefully fucking my throat, pulling my hair, and calling me every name under the sun. I was really in my element. What followed ticked all my boxes, nothing fancy or gentle.His cock was a good size but not huge like most of the SH stories contain. I'd say 7 inches, pretty thick, it was, however rock hard, and stayed that way for a good hour. Once my throat had been fucked he bent me over my car boot and was straight up my arse, pounding hard, me loving the feeling of him pulling my hair and spanking my arse hard, still abusing me verbally. I lost track of time but once my arse was well and truly fucked, the cheeky bugger wiped his cock on my jacket and it was straight up my cunt to the hilt, that first stroke is when my first orgasm hit me. I was squirting, cumming, and screaming. Not that anything put him off his stride and it was a long hard pounding before he filled me with cum Immediately I was back on my knees, in the mud, cleaning his cock before I felt his warm piss filling my mouth. He pulled out and, as he said, hosed me down. What he failed to mention is he pushed me flat on my back, in the mud before doing it. What followed was him leaving me like that, filthy and used. I had to remove my clothes, all of them to get back in the car and not leave it muddy/spunky/pissy. Driving home naked under the picnic blanket that was always in my boot. Sitting in the car until 2am to make sure my teenage children didn't see me go in looking like that. I met him twice after that, before I made a big fuck up and pissed him off, and I will look through the SH stories to see if he posted details of those meets, which were much more sexual. If not I will post the spa afternoon and my building site day keeping his colleagues happy. I suspect I was one of a few he had "on the go" but rarely will a week pass without my mind wandering back to that crossbush meeting with Grant. Weird but I still have my oragge jacket in a plastic bag at the bottom of my wardrobe, never got it washed and it's probably going mouldy