You want your tip...

Tip? Right, you joined the party tonight to get some insider tip.
But why were you now making out with a stranger behind the club?
Why did you let him play so easily with your kitty, or even before that, why dance along when you got a vibe stuck against your pussy?

Doubts and questions filled your mind, and for some reason you thought of the casual guy previously mentioned... one moment you felt like you were on to something, the next your doubts were wiped clean in favour of some focus on the situation at hand.

"Tip?" his question and your own following doubts made you forget he had already pulled his prick out, and for some unknown reason you didn't notice you weren't even wearing your pants any more, discarded on the ground near your feet "I want it" while missing your state of dress, or lack of it, you also missed the possible double meaning behind his words.

"Oh, you want it? Ask for it then. Beg me and i'll give you everything i got"

You wanted some insider tip, and he was literally offering you everything he knew. Using the word "give" instead of "tell" was surely because he misspoke. What was there to be shy about?

"I'd really love to know everything about your tip, for me to get some from an insider... i couldn't ask for more"

Was it because it was going so smoothly? You had no time to react, not with your guard towards him as low as it was.
Before you knew it your panties were tugged down and an unfamiliar meaty hardness poked his head into your body.

"Just the tip... really isn't enough. Since you want an insider, then i really need to fill you up..."

That was the only warning before he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you steady and giving himself some leverage to thrust up into you. And what leverage it was... with a firm, hard thrust that got him balls deep into your pussy, Martin claimed the pussy every jock in the campus dreamed about. Sure, he was disappointed when he noticed he wasn't your first... but it was nothing when compared to the satisfaction he felt from turning you in such a cheap slut, the kind who'll easily bend over a dumpster behind a shady club after a drink or two.

Oh, if only the others knew.
THE Sunny Brights, the social butterfly renown for her pristine and clean reputation.
No nudies, no intimate pics or videos, no confirmed sexual claims towards her.
Few boyfriends, and none got even a BJ pic... it was even doubtful wherever you actually blew them at all.

And yet here he was, plowing you from behind despite being just another stranger, no intimate relationship to justify such an intimate exchange... not that there was anything intimate about your fornication.
It was more of a primal act catered to satisfying his lust for you.

There was no love involved, only hard deep thrusts pistoning into you again and again with the firm resolution to break you in, establishing his dominant position during the copulation and possibly even after. Because he sure wished for you to be his woman, not only you were a very fuckable babe but he could also get the bragging rights so... right, right, bragging rights, almost forgot to take a pic of this.

While you were busy gasping and getting cock, you didn't notice one of his hands sneaking away to grab his phone... too bad for him however that you weren't the only drunk one here, so his grip failed him and the phone ended up on the ground as he was pushing the rec button. The smartphone actually started recording instead of taking a pic and after falling to the ground, it had a great angle to record your current sexual escapade... but there was little chance your face would end up in it. Not that you'd care, not while getting railed and loving every second of it.

Why was this so good?

Sure you were in heat... and had a drink... which was possibly spiked... ok, you got enough reasons to feel good, but at least you got enough reason somewhere in your head to ask him to pull out, right?