[I really enjoyed sharing my [first story](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/penmif/i_fucked_the_thick_chick_from_the_supermarket_fm/) on here last month (well, a couple days ago) and thought I’d try sharing again. I wasn’t sure what story to go with, but then I noticed there’s a monthly theme on one-night-stands so I picked this one just for fun! I am not actually sure this counts as a one-night-stand but the competition hasn’t actually started yet, so if I’m wrong at least it won’t matter haha]
This is a pre-Covid story from a few years ago; at the time my friends and I were all going to pub quizzes—the UK’s staple function for people who are needlessly overcompetitive in an insufferably indoors-y kind of way. Living in a big city we had the luxury of getting to pick from lots of options –and there are some bad pub quizzes out there.
We ended up being regulars at a big but very relaxed place in a swanky part of town. The quiz was good enough we kept coming back—and each week the top team walked away with a surprisingly juicy cash prize (only spendable at that one place tbf); sometimes, albeit rarely, we were that winning team.
This bar had a very bad habit of scheduling other events right before or after the pub quiz was supposed to happen, and these events inevitably bled into the pub quiz somehow. Most of the time this was extremely hectic and confusing, with usual offenders being live music or singles mixers. The mixers catered to a slightly older crowd (given the pub quiz was mostly teams of people either in or less than a decade out of uni) but did end up serving as the basis for some other fun stories. The night of this story, there was a singles mixer happening, but our whole team was out in force that night and I was determined not to waste half the quiz flirting with someone pretty!
My resolve failed immediately when I went up to the bar and ordered my team’s first round of drinks before the quiz started. As I waited to pay, a woman who looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties came up to the bar just to my right. She was around 5’3 or 5’4 with straightened hair that almost reached her waist. As she waited to get her drink she’d leaned a bit over the bar and had sort of a soft expression that accentuated her dark doe-eyes–I would have found it hard not to take her order first on a crowded night. I couldn’t place her look and guessed that she, like me, had family from somewhere further afield than just the UK. I’d dated a girl from Cyprus for a while; compared with her, this woman had much lighter hair and ever-so-slightly darker skin. She had big, shiny stud earrings but no other jewelry on and she was not really dressed for the mixer but she looked amazing regardless. She had a full figure with the kind of incredible wide hips which are hard not to watch when they’re in motion, but which imo were still outdone by her tits. She was super buxom and seemed even bustier given she was so short—I’d guess something like F or G cups; she was wearing one of those light, flowy tops that draped over her body rather than hugging her curves, but on her this just meant the fabric found the curviest spots and hung from them. God fucking damn. I found myself hoping some horrible fate had befallen the bartender.
I was awestruck and didn’t realize she’d seen me staring until she looked over, caught my eye, and looked away again in her search for someone who’d take her order. She’d had to crane her neck up a bit to look up at me—I was about a foot taller than she was—and when she met my eyes it pulled me out of my stupor. I felt embarrassed to be caught staring, but as she looked away I caught a little smile, so I figured what the hell and struck up a conversation. We exchanged names; I can’t actually think how to best spell (and therefore find a close replacement for) her name, but it was close to Sara if you pronounced it more like Sah-Rah than Serr-uh.
When I apologized for our pub quiz fucking up her mixer, Sara cocked her head at me and said she was there for the quiz too. I told her that was surprising, and she asked if she seemed single. I laughed and told her she seemed too glamorous for pub quizzes (she was in a nice shirt and jeans but I think we both knew I meant more than her clothes). She cocked her head again and gave me another of those small smiles while holding my contact before breaking it and motioning with her chin over to her own team on the far side of the bar. I realized she was getting their first round just as I was doing for my own team. We chatted a bit more but my order was ready soon after that, so I gathered it up and told her I wished her luck and hoped her team did well. Her smile widened as she said the same to me, with matching subtext—“just not TOO well”. The air felt thick enough to cut; I got back to my group in time to enjoy watching her cross the bar with the drinks for her own team.
Within about two and a half seconds of sitting back down at my table I’d decided I’d go say hey again after the quiz, but even if I’d been unsure, the looks we exchanged over the first couple rounds made it a non-question. I’d look up from our table and out across the room towards her when we got a hard question right—and unlike that first time at the bar, when we made eye contact she wouldn’t look away. When her team got a hard question right and mine didn’t, I could practically feel her eyes burning into the side of my skull and I was enough of a good sport to meet her pointed look. Sara’s expression was hard to read—she didn’t have an eyebrow raised or anything—but a few of the other girls at her table saw us staring daggers and were clearly grinning and nudging. Everyone at my table was super focused on the questions, and I pitched in with everything I’d got. You’d better fucking believe I wanted us to win.
At the end of round three (with there being five rounds total), one of my friends got up to get everyone more drinks. Around the same time I saw Sara get up and head to the bar, and being very impatient, I got up to head that way too. My friend told me he was going to get this one, and I said I’d grab my own this time and beelined.
When I sidled up to the bar and asked how her team was doing, Sara didn’t seem surprised to see me. I don’t remember a huge amount of the conversation that night, with this being several years ago now, but this part’s pretty keen in my head. She asked me if I was trying to gauge the competition, and I told her competition might be too strong a word. She kinda narrowed her eyes at me and said my team seemed to be missing more than hitting. I asked if she wanted to make it more interesting and she cautiously asked what I meant.
“If you win, I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Shouldn’t you buy me a drink if YOU win?” she asked. “That seems like a reward.”
“I guess I’d be able to buy you more drinks that way, too.”
She bit her lip to hide another smile, looked down at the floor, and back up at me. Her tone of voice was still quizzical but her eyes were not. “Alright. If you win, I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Fair’s fair.” I headed back to my team.
I can’t tell you what the fuck went down in those last couple of rounds—I can’t remember what the topics were or anything else like that. As far as I can remember we’d been doing pretty good for at least the first half, but without getting into it too much, when the scores were announced at the end of the game Sara’s team did Pretty Well and my team did Significantly Less Well, about which for obvious reasons I had Mixed But Enthusiastic Feelings. Nobody was walking away with a cash prize, but I was a lot more hyped up than free drinks could’ve made me. By this time it was probably around 9:30 or 10pm and my team usually went their separate ways soon after the pub quiz ended (though this was somewhat less common on the nights we crossed paths with the singles mixers). I slunk to the bar and asked if they could keep one of the 2-person tables near at the back where it was quieter free, and since the place was mostly clearing out after the events, the bartender gave me kind of a knowing smile and nodded. I genuinely feel extremely grateful to this bartender, who had been present or absent at the exact right moments for this to work out.
Sara and I both spent a little bit of time with our respective teams, but we did exchange one more look—me smiling in defeat, her smirking—before people began filing out. I explained to a couple friends (who by now had clocked this going down) that I was going to stick around and they helpfully headed out; Sara’s left soon after. I produced our drinks with the appropriate grace in defeat and she and I headed to our little table in the back for our little postgame interview.
I find it hard to describe Sara’s demeanor during our impromptu date; with the trash talk gone she was definitely a little more reserved and nervous at first but as she leaned into it and talked more she became full and voluminous–matching her figure, her long hair, her eyes, everything. Even the way she laughed was intoxicating. Besides the quiz which she was new to, we talked about noncommittal things, keeping it quite light by mutual intention. At one point as we were talking she took off her flowy summer top. I was actually pretty shocked at this because I hadn’t realized her top was like, an outer layer; because of her bust the shirt she had on underneath it was more or less just a camisole (though she did have a bra on underneath; I imagine going without would have been painful) which couldn’t help but show off her tits. The change from no cleavage to Cleavage almost made me stumble over my words quite a bit for a few minutes, but she smiled at me the whole time and I got the sense she knew what she was doing.
I drank more than she did and finished my pint while she was still in the first half of hers, which I think wasn’t just me being nervous and drinking super fast but a conscious choice. She got up to use the bathroom and was a little quieter when she came back, again seeming kind of reserved. When I shifted in my chair and asked if she wanted anything while I was up. She straight up asked “Do you want to get out of here?” which I remember in part because I hadn’t expected it so suddenly after she got quiet. I stuttered in excitement and then agreed with a dumb smile and she told me her place wasn’t far.
Walking home with her, or rather letting her take me home, was fun in part because of our pronounced height difference, which both of us remarked on as we walked. She’d put her flowy sweater thing back on but even that couldn’t hide how good she looked as she walked. She was so fucking sexy and curvaceous and while we talked she came out of her shell again. I was dying to fuck her but I remember really enjoying that walk to her place. When we reached the building door she was quicker with her keys than I often was, and we were up into her room before long. It was bubblier than I’d have expected and the way she’d decorated it made me realize she was either actually closer to my age (I’d thought she was at least a half-decade older than me) or hadn’t redecorated since finishing uni. As I was still processed what was going on, she literally laid down on her bed and motioned for me to come join her.
Our hookup started slowly and sweetly; we kissed and kissed and kissed. She gave me these slow seductive caresses that simultaneously left me feeling like I was in charge but which pulled me to her more and more. We began moving our hands over each other without getting undressed. I was dying to feel her body after we’d made eyes all night; I squeezed her breasts and enjoyed how she reacted, kissing me more firmly and putting her hands on my chest and stomach. When I moved one hand to start rubbing the inside of her thigh she gasped and I stopped to see if that was too much; she suggested we go slow but closed her thighs around my hand before rubbing them together. I wasn’t sure how far this would go (and in retrospect I don’t think she’d made up her mind yet) but was loving every fucking second, and I was more than happy to savor it. I ran my hands over her jeans when her legs opened up again and I felt and heard her moans getting more intense.
It didn’t take a lot to make her react more fiercely. She mostly communicated in moans as we kept kissing, but she had no problem telling me when she wanted more just by moaning. I began rubbing her pussy over her jeans and waited for her to reach down and undo the button and the zipper before teasing them down those fucking amazing hips. She was already fucking soaked and I stopped to rub her bare thighs before sliding two, then three fingers inside her. She seemed to really enjoy my fingers and started moving her hips on me as I worked her—again, slowly but so fucking well. She pulled away from my mouth and said she wanted me to take my clothes off.
Fucking hell this woman was so good with her hands and her mouth and we weren’t even out of our clothes yet. I stood back up alongside the bed and got undressed. She let out a excited breath as she watched and took a moment to lay back and eye my cock, sizing it up. I stood there beside the bed, rigid, staring down at her. When she moved to the edge of the bed she held eye contact with me and began to stroke my cock with one hand. I got her out of her top and her bra—FUCK she looked so sexy—and then took everything in, leaning my head back and just enjoying her hand along me and the gentleness of her tongue against my head. Our height difference meant that it wasn’t easy to stand in front of her while she rubbed my cock with her tits, though we gave it a shot a couple of times as I really fucking wanted to after all the flaunting from earlier. I was expecting her take me into her mouth, but to me surprise she brought herself down off the bed and positioned her head so her lips were right in front of—but not wrapped around—my cock. When she told me to fuck her it was obvious she meant her mouth. The way she looked at me—holy fucking shit. She repeated herself, telling me to fuck her mouth, and I realized she’d caught me all awestruck again.
I started by moving half of my length into her, feeling her lips wrapped around me and drinking in the sight of her, but I was nervous I’d give her too much too fast and didn’t thrust further than that. She looked fucking incredible taking me like that and when she looked at me with her eyes half-lidded as I moved myself against her mouth, I knew that she knew how good she was too. Sara was much less nervous than me and moved herself further up the shaft of my dick until most of me was past her lips and I could feel her tongue along the ridge at the base of my shaft. She didn’t bob her head but moved her hands to the sides of my thighs and massaged mr there, encouraging me to work my hips. My nervousness was gone; fuck her mouth felt incredible. I’d spent so much of our time together staring at her body and clearly not enough time admiring her mouth—she bobbed up and down enough to help me glide in and out but left it up to me to pump myself deeper. My grip tightened on her shoulders and then on a fistful of her hair as I leaned further forward. She let out a happy moan as I started really thrusting, fucking her mouth and getting lost in the sensation.
I could’ve kept doing that until I’d cum and she certainly seemed to be enjoying herself, but I didn’t want our time together to be over so soon; I bucked against her until I knew I had to make a decision, and then backed up and told her I absolutely had to fuck her. She smiled up at me and nodded as I rolled on a condom, glancing at the bed as if asking what I’d prefer, but I was so worked up that I pulled her to her feet, turned her around, bent her forward to the base of the bed and pressed the head of my cock against her pussy from behind. She was completely soaking wet and gasped at the feeling of me pushed up against her without penetrating her; we were both practically humming with desire, and we could feel the heat coming off one another from just that contact. After a moment she leaned forward to brace against one of the bedknobs with both hands and rolled her hips back so that her cunt enveloped the head of my cock. We both groaned together from the feeling and something about the fluidity and immediacy of that one motion just completely changed the atmosphere—this was no longer about going slow. I thrust my full length into her, listened to her moaning, and went right back to bucking against her just as I’d fucked her mouth. I pulled her long hair back and worked her pussy with deep thrusts while she leaned further over the side of the bed and told me how fucking deep I was hitting her; she wasn’t especially loud, but her voice was so fucking full to the brim with desire it made me buck even harder.
I can’t believe how animalistic it had gotten after how slow we’d started—she’d gotten so fucking wet and the feeling of her running down my cock and my thighs and the heat of her along the length of me, combined with her voice, just brought out this base need. I was not going to last forever and, having noticed she had a long mirror across the room, I moved us so she was alongside it. Then I bent Sara further forward from the waist before gripping her wrists and then her biceps to pull her back up and fuck her brains out while watching her tits bounce in the mirror. I still think about this all the time—the rhythm of us fucking, her expression, the sensation of her against me. FUCK she felt amazing. I caught her watching herself in the mirror too and felt her clenching around me.
I was probably seconds from going right over the edge when she looked back over her shoulder at me and said she wanted to taste me when I came; every muscle wanted me to keep fucking her until I filled her up and spilled out of her, but the look in her eyes had me entranced. I backed up and she turned, took my cock in her mouth, and once again squeezed my thighs just below my ass; I fucked her mouth while saying her name over and over and then and there I knew I’d keep going until I was spent. I fucked her with everything I had; after all the momentum I’d built up taking her from behind, I could tell was going to be a lot. I gave her advance warning as I fucked her face; she looked and felt amazing and her needy little Mm-hmm! Mm-hmm! sounds sent me over the edge. I have no idea how much I came, but it felt earth-shattering and I nearly fucking collapsed then and there. From what I could tell she swallowed about as much as she physically could, then stuck out her tongue and showed me the rest. She was so fucking hot, god fucking damn. I rubbed my thumb over her lips and then moved it in circles around one of her nipples, leaving a smear of my cum against her, as we spooned and talked (though she excused herself to the bathroom before then to brush her teeth and get ready for bed, which was very cute). We were both worn out but I remember asking her about the “fuck my face” stuff and she said she both really liked the kink and was very proud of what she could do. I definitely fucking agreed.
Relatively close to morning she woke up to use the bathroom and woke me up in the process. It became obvious when she came back to bed that neither of us was going to get right back to sleep, but we both said we were sleepy, even if our hands seemed to have other ideas. She was laid on her stomach with her tits pressed into the mattress–I went from rubbing her legs to rubbing between them and then moved down her to taste her. She was clearly in that early-morning daze but let out happy sighs as I worked her with my mouth and encouraged me to keep going whenever I slowed the tempo. I shifted down the bed to position myself behind her and mostly focused on her clit, occasionally pausing to run my tongue along and inside her pussy, which she seemed to really like. I began rubbing her pussy with one hand as I moved my tongue on her clit, and just like before she seemed to really REALLY like my fingers. Her moans got louder until she pushed her own face into one of her pillows, and I picked up the pace. I could sense her getting closer just from the sounds she was trying to hide and the sensation of her on my tongue and my fingers. I kept going until Sara angled her hips up and pushed back onto me very abruptly while letting out this muffled yelp as he kept herself pressed against my face. I worked her clit with my tongue until I felt her stop quivering and heard her starting to murmur with her head back out of the pillow. I really wanted to fuck her like that on the mattress but she said she’d be too sensitive after cumming, so I rolled her onto her back, kissed her while playing with her breasts, and then repositioned my hips so my cock was right at her chest.
She gave me this sleepy smile and began titfucking me, playing with her nipples as she rhythmically moved her breasts up and down my dick. Fuck. I couldn’t stop telling her how good she felt. I leaned back to fuck her with my fingers but she was still super sensitive so I slowly rubbed her pussy as she worked my cock. Fucking her tits felt amazing; she was taking her time and just letting her soft skin and the sensation of us pressed together do a lot of the work. I started to feel that animal need building again and instinctively started thrusting as I got closer; she took hold of one of my hands and brought it to her nipple, where I could feel my cum from last time against her skin, while looking into my eyes and telling me how good my cum felt on her. That drove me over the edge and I pumped harder, squeezed her tits together and came all over her neck and chest before collapsing back to the mattress. We both idly enjoyed the feeling of my cum on her nipples, murmuring at each other for a few minutes, and talked until we fell asleep again for a little while.
The next time I woke up Sara was already awake beside me, having clearly sat up and cleaned herself off without getting out of bed yet, and she had kind of a conflicted expression on her face. I leaned in and kissed her neck; she kissed me and then paused and told me I’d better not stay too long. Oof. Given I’d only just regained consciousness, this hit me in the center of both my chest and my ego. I nodded but admitted I was a little surprised and asked if she was feeling alright with what had happened. She again got a little pensive and explained to me that she was single but wasn’t sure she would be “for much longer”. She sounded a little indecisive about the whole thing, which I guessed meant either she wasn’t sure she did want to throw me out, or maybe she was slightly exaggerating the situation and was not exactly 100% single right then, in which case I knew better than to Stay And Cause Problems. I got all my stuff and told her that I’d had an amazing time and hoped I hadn’t gotten her in trouble. She laughed and said it was fine while getting out of bed and giving me one last look at her incredible fucking body before getting dressed. “I probably shouldn’t have let you fuck me,” she explained, “but I loved it.” Hearing that sent a little happy jolt through me. She walked me to the downstairs, kissed me, squeezed my cock over my clothes with another little smile, and let me out.
The twist here (and the part that makes me unsure if this can really be called a one-night-stand) is that, while we never hooked up again or spoke about it, we continued to see each other—in other words I mean “see each other” literally, as in, visually. Neither of us changed pub quizzes after this, so we actually ended up in the same place at least once every two weeks for a while until the quiz ended and my team switched to a new place. In that time her team did grow to include a guy who kept one arm around her pretty much all night each night. We did still catch each other’s eyes every so often, arm or not, and the looks we exchanged always carried some heat.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/pfzyev/facefucking_the_girl_from_the_pub_quiz_fm