I turned eighteen three weeks ago and the second the clock hit midnight I knew I wanted to get fucked. Not sweet, not gentle. I wanted a man to spread my legs and pound me until I couldn't walk straight. My parents were out of town for the weekend, so I put on the shortest skirt I owned, no panties underneath, and a tight tank top that barely covered my tits. I walked to the bar down the street that didn't check IDs too hard.
He was at the end of the bar, older, maybe thirty-five, thick arms and a hungry look. I ordered a drink, leaned over so he could see down my top, and told him straight up I was looking for a cock to ride. He didn't waste time. We were in his truck five minutes later, his hand already under my skirt, fingers sliding over my wet pussy.
"Goddamn, you're soaked," he growled, pushing two fingers inside me while he drove. I spread my legs wider and rocked against his hand, moaning loud because I didn't give a fuck who heard. By the time we reached his place I was dripping down my thighs.
He didn't even get me to the bedroom. He bent me over the kitchen table, yanked my skirt up, and slapped my ass hard. "You want it raw, little girl?" I nodded and pushed my ass back. He unzipped, pulled out a thick, veiny cock, and slammed it straight into me in one thrust.
I screamed. It hurt and felt fucking incredible at the same time. He didn't slow down. He gripped my hips and fucked me like he hated me, balls slapping against my clit with every stroke. My tits bounced out of my top and he reached around to pinch my nipples while he pounded me. I came fast, clenching around his cock, but he kept going.
He flipped me onto my back on the table, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and drove in deeper. "Look at that tight eighteen-year-old cunt taking every inch," he said, staring down at where we were joined. I reached down and rubbed my clit while he fucked me, coming again, squirting a little around his shaft. He pulled out, shoved his cock in my mouth, and fucked my throat until I gagged. Then he bent me back over and went at my pussy again.
We moved to the couch. I rode him, bouncing hard, my ass slapping his thighs. He smacked my tits and called me a filthy little slut. I loved every word. When he was close he flipped me onto all fours, pulled my hair, and hammered me until he buried himself deep and came, flooding my pussy with hot cum. It leaked out around his cock and down my legs.
He wasn't done. He made me suck him hard again, then took my ass. Slow at first, then rough, stretching me open while I fingered my cum-filled cunt. I came so hard I nearly blacked out. When he finished the second time he left me on the floor, ass up, cum dripping from both holes, shaking and smiling like an idiot.
I walked home the next morning with his load still inside me, already planning the next time I'd hunt for cock. Being eighteen felt fucking perfect.
