A Good Night
by Saxon
Copyright© 2026 by Saxon
Erotica Sex Story: A very male-point-of-view story featuring a guy we would all like to be like - good at getting a bitch into bed.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual True Story Oral Sex .
Jason Steed was going out on the hunt: girl hunting.
That was how he viewed it, and it was precisely the phrase he often used in his own mind or to his buddies. He was honest enough to acknowledge his own motives, besides – direct and simple was usually the best way to pull a girl. Making friends, dating, getting to know each other, achieving a steady, trusting relationship before sex – to hell with that was his attitude. Jason wanted a good fuck, pure and simple, and, fortunately – despite the supposed reputation that females liked to reserve sex for the ‘special guy’ or ‘the right time’ and such shit – there were girls out there who wanted the same as him. The trick was in finding the girl who was willing to drop her panties and just fuck for the pleasure of it, no strings attached.
Happily, he was quite good at it. Jason was a 27-year-old acting student, a little bit older than most students, but this often worked to his advantage. He was pretty confident and, equally if not more important, was blessed with a good physique and looks.
So, armed with his knowledge of what was what and a few condoms (which he sincerely hoped would not be needed), he went out on his mission. Two of his male buddies who had the same intent were going with him, but they would probably all split up soon after entering the nightclub. He was dressed in a fashionable brand of black jeans with a good belt, and a stylish but unpretentious maroon shirt hung loosely over his waist. Underneath, he had on a simple black vest. He wore soft, brown leather shoes and black socks. His dark brown hair was short and tidy, and he had applied noticeable but not overpowering male body scent. All in all, the image he consciously projected was of smart casual, confident, mature, and clean: the effect was to give off intent coupled with a ‘knowing the ropes’ sexual hygiene.
They entered the nightclub. They’d chosen one which was open to non-members. ‘Membership-only’ types of places tended to be where the ‘good’ girls went: that is, the boring ones who didn’t engage in one-nighters or casual sex. Immediately, they bought themselves drinks to settle in and look cool, then the search began.
The other two hunted as a duo, but they knew Jason usually preferred to hunt alone, so they left him to it. They would probably not see each other to talk until the next day when they would hopefully have tales of carnal success to tell and girls to describe.
Jason had a skill of surveying intently while looking casual about it. His eyes soon hit upon interesting things. There were girls who had come in groups: this was promising because obviously they didn’t have boyfriends with them. The downside was that sometimes one who might have been prepared to fuck you wouldn’t because she didn’t want to appear a slut in front of her friends. Also, the bitches tended to have a way of ‘looking out for each other’ and warning each other against going off with a stranger. Large groups of girls could often be a better place to work than small, close-knit groups of friends.
There were some extrovert, sexy ones cavorting on the dance floor: this was often misleading because such types had often, boringly, specifically come there just to enjoy dancing and nothing else: in girl parlance – ‘to have some fun’, which they did NOT mean in the same sense as guys. It could often be a sheer waste of time brushing up against one of them on the dance floor, even if she appeared to enjoy and encourage it.
Jason’s idea of a good, fun night hinged on getting a good fuck. Generally, the ones who had not come in groups had come with their boyfriends. Rarely did a girl come to such a place alone, unless she was a hooker or else very sure of herself.
Jason went for the jackpot straight away: he’d noticed a blonde who he would truly love to have fucked the brains out of. In his mind, she was unquestionably his number one out of that whole place tonight. She was in a group, but he approached her and spoke to her individually for a while. She was a languages student, age 20, intelligent, and bubbly. She revealed she’d come out that night with her friends to celebrate a good exam result, and for a moment, Jason hoped her ‘celebrations’ might also include fucking him.
But it was obvious after 15 minutes of talking that she was just one of those infuriating girls who looked great – nice tits, great ass, and a bright smile and highly pretty face – but was too sickeningly decent for hot, casual sex. She enjoyed his conversation and probably even liked the look of him, but he wasn’t interested in getting to know her for days or weeks or months – fuck that – so he moved on with a polite goodbye without even bothering to make a proper pass at her.
Next, he targeted a little cluster of young-looking students, several of whom were Asian. The one in particular he wanted was a skinny Indian girl with a cute ponytail and a shy look about her. She was probably a fresher, eighteen or so, but looked possibly even younger (which meant, if so, she shouldn’t have been in there). She was worth a try – who knows, he might have been able to charm her with his experience and wit and get her to leave with him. He knew it was unlikely, and he was really just enjoying the thought of the kinkyness of it – her race, religion, and the fact that she was almost certainly a virgin.
When he started sitting closer to her and showing her blatant special attention and complimenting her on her prettiness, her protective friends gave her little nudges and warning looks. The girl herself just clammed up: as frigid and scared as they come. He moved on.
The trick was not to waste too much time in dead ends, or else the genuine available ones might get snapped up or else notice that they were only his second or third choices and therefore deny him. Girls were like that.
He took a pause and stood by the bar, and it was shortly then that he noticed her: standing alone, further along the bar – a very black-haired girl with a slightly glum expression, and she caught his eye. She neither blanked him nor encouraged him, but his instincts told him she was the one. Her face was pretty without being spectacularly pretty, but it had a sexiness about it. She wore little or no make-up, and her simple, plain beauty stood on its own. Jason liked that. She was rather pale. She was early or mid-twenties and had a look in her eyes that spelt, ‘I fuck, I am not afraid to fuck, I enjoy a good fuck’.
If Jason’s judgment was right, which it usually was, then she did not have too much self-respect or shit like that to be coy about sex.
“Hi,” he said, standing by her. It was important not to delay. With the right girl, straightforward keenness was all that was necessary, although it had to be accompanied by composure and confidence.
“Hi,” she said indifferently, but her stance was unmoving from his proximity.
“It looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Does it?” she replied.
“Yes, I can see that you’re loving it.”
“You being sarcastic?”
“No. Well, maybe, but not in a bad way.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Jason could see that she didn’t say that angrily; in fact, she had a faint trace of some sort of a smile. He paused for only a second or two.
“I think I’m just saying I like the way you look.”
“Oh?” She turned her face directly to him for the first time. “You think, or you are saying?”
Jason cursed inwardly for compromising the phrase. “I am saying.” He returned her gaze. This was vital. She was sizing him up for sex appeal every bit as much as he was sizing her up. Girls were like that.
“I see. In what way do you like the way I look?”
“Your face. You’re sexy. And you look kind of bored. I like that.”
She let out a little gasp of laughter. “You like that I look bored?”
“Yep.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah. It’s honest. Anybody in their right mind would be bored here.”
“Oh, I see. Thanks. I must be in my right fucking mind then.” The swearing was good, thought Jason. It was not done in anger, it was clearly just her normal cynical way of talking.
“Don’t worry about it. I think you are. I mean, I know you are – in your right mind.”
“Cheers.” She gave another half smile, raised her glass, and took a sip of her drink.
“So, what brings you here?” Jason asked.
With that, they launched into conversation proper. She revealed a bit of information about her ‘shitty’ work. She was a bank cashier. She was happy to tell him, ‘nothing serious’, when asked casually whether she had a man in her life. Jason replied the same for his girlfriend status. He spoke a bit about his acting training, and she responded how she quite liked the idea of being a film star. Jason told her she probably could be a good actress, but it was important not to patronise this girl – she clearly wouldn’t dig pussyfoot flattery. He told her plainly that her natural looks were better than most made-up movie stars, which was true, although he didn’t tell her she was not his first choice fuck tonight. She was excellent though: nice and skinny, and fuck – that raven-black hair just past her shoulder length was nice. He knew he’d have his hands in that tonight, and images of him doing just that while he was looking down on her face, kissing, with his cock up her cunt raged through his mind. Assuming things worked out, of course, but it was almost a done deal. The conversation was just a formality, a slight ice-breaker to verify that they each matched up to their first impressions.
“Do you want another one of those?” asked Jason when he saw she’d finished her drink.
“Maybe, yeah. But not here.”
“Where then? Say the place.” He took his last sip also.
“My house is good,” she said with satisfying casualness. This bitch was not going to be bashful about it, although she had a touch of vulnerability about her personality, which was an added turn-on.
“That suits me,” said Jason. “My house buddies are a bit of a pain in the ass.”
“I see. Well, I’ll get my coat, and then we can go.”
While she was away, Jason took the opportunity to re-acquaint himself with the blonde. It was a bit risky, but he did it quickly. He found her and asked her straight out if she was interested in a bit of fun, meaning sex. She laughed it off and made it clear firmly but politely that the answer was no. He could see that he’d gone down in her estimation right there. But it was worth a try. If she’d have amazingly said yes, he would have gone off with her there and then and to hell with raven hair. Who knows? He might even have wound up in bed with two cute bisexual bitches. Miracles happen. But not to be. To hell with her.
Walking out of the nightclub, Jason was happy. All in all, raven hair was a good score, an eight out of ten. He felt sure she’d be good in bed, although hell – for a red-blooded male, any girl is good in bed if she’s pretty. Nevertheless, the anticipation of exactly what she’d be like as a performer made the wait all the more exciting. That’s the joy of fucking a stranger. Getting to do it at the girl’s place was always a bonus too: it was a kind of ‘double-fuck’ – she was letting you into her room, and you were seeing her territory, so you were in effect fucking her privacy too. Jason was going to have a good tale to tell the guys tomorrow for sure.
Her house, a fairly nice semi-detached one in a bland suburb of town, was rented with two female housemates. They were not home, although one of them might be the next morning, but the other was going to be away all weekend visiting her parents. Naturally, Jason wondered about them: would they be equally as fuckable? What chances of a twosome or even a threesome one day? It was greedy to think like that – he already had a good night to look forward to.
He couldn’t wait to find out what she was going to be like in bed, but the main thing was just getting her into bed: it was possible for things to go wrong still, but not likely. She didn’t seem like the type who would back out now. Done deal. The mere fact of her giving the information that her housemate was likely to be home in the morning implied that it was an understood thing that he was stopping the night. He certainly wasn’t stopping the night to sleep on the sofa and begin a cautious courtship or suck bollocks; he was stopping the night to sleep with her so they could fuck like rabbits. It was as certain as anything could be that they had no misunderstanding there.
She made them both coffees – there was something hot about watching the girl you are going to fuck wait on you – and they settled on the sofa. A bit of meaningless conversation followed. He established her age in a roundabout way by asking if she’d had many jobs since leaving school. No, the bank thing was her first, and she was 19. So, younger than he initially thought, but he had observed how she did look more youthful away from the nights of the nightclub. She even had faint traces of acne around her chin and nose, but that was not a problem for him, not at all. Again, he observed her rather pale, unmade-up face. He liked that. Lack of lipstick always made a girl’s light pink mouth seem tighter, smaller, and cuter – the way a girl should be. So, eight years younger than him: that was perfectly cool. Her skinny body could easily have belonged on a younger teen actually, though he reckoned she had more worldliness about her than many 19-year-olds.
After the cool beginning, things moved fast. It wasn’t long before they were kissing on the sofa.
“You’re cute,” he said.
He slipped his hand under her hair and turned her face to him and moved his mouth to hers. No preliminary cheek pecks even. This seemed fine by her. They worked their jaws against each other slowly, leisurely. Tongues inevitably followed, rolling, turning, and probing against each other’s with increasing lust. Shared tongues would become shared genitals, and shared salival juices would become shared cunt and cock juices: that was mutually understood.
The gap of bare skin at the base of her back, between her jeans and tight-fitting top, was an all-too-obvious, irresistible destination for his hand. He slipped it under there and reached right up her smooth back until his fingertips touched on her bra straps. His fingers then worked underneath her bra straps. Meanwhile, she had responded by sliding her hand up his side and then down again so that her fingers actually reached into pelvic and buttock flesh. Such unspoken language between them brooked no further delay.
“My bedroom’s a bit of a mess.” She broke off their clinch and got to her feet. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said laconically.
“I’m not the tidyness police,” Jason said, smiling at his own wit. She gave a curt but sexy smile that only girls can do. All he could think about was seeing her with clothes off. Hopefully – presumably – what was going through her head was wanting to be fucked.
The bedroom wasn’t really untidy as untidy bedrooms go, though it had a pleasing, casual disorder to it: toiletry implements, girlie implements, magazines, the odd article of clothing, work folders strewn here and there. It was clean and nicely decorated, but this was no princess, but not a druggie hooker either. As for the all-important bed, it was a single one of a decent size but nevertheless would be a bit cramped for the two of them. He toyed with the idea of suggesting they pull the mattress out onto the floor and do their activities there, but he was a ‘guest,’ so better not to be too presumptuous. Besides, it was interesting letting her take the lead.
“Back in a minute,” she said, without much emotion, although did he detect a look in her eyes that was midway between excitement and nervousness? It was that pleasing hint of vulnerability again.
“Uh, okay,” Jason answered. She’d actually just interrupted a thought he was having about hoping that she had not washed her bed linen for a few days – or for the longest time possible, actually.
“Make yourself at home,” she said with a sexy smirk, and she went to the bathroom.
He had the funny thought of pretending to be in deep sleep when she came back, but not every woman is open to silly jokes like that.
He played it cool and idly browsed her room, picking up a celeb magazine which did actually slightly interest him. He wondered which drawer she kept her knickers in - ideally, he’d steal a pair as a trophy for the night, but he didn’t risk looking yet. He didn’t need the bathroom himself because he’d been earlier and he knew he was clean and ready. She returned, having done whatever she’d done in there but looking no different. Now what? He didn’t have to wait long to find out. She began to undress, starting with pulling her top over her head, almost as if it was any normal night for her. Jason wondered how often she performed this scene in private at the end of a day, and how often she did it with a man in here. It would be uncool at this stage to ask about her sex life though. For now, he was it, and that’s all that mattered.
The knickers she was wearing and soon to not wear were plain, small white cotton ones with no frills, just a thin red border. That he liked. This was his favourite stage of undress, in a way more so even than full nudity: after her jeans were off, he loved the way her knickers hung on her, partly off her ass (and hell, what a well sculpted ass it was) revealing a bit of crack, almost as if they were not really meant to be on there in the first place. She was stooping to remove her socks, which exaggerated the effect. He didn’t want to seem like he was staring like a drooling adolescent would, but it was fine, even good policy to verbalize appreciation.
“Nice body,” he said coolly, as he himself was undressing. “I like what I see.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m a skinny bitch, aren’t I?”
She indeed was. Not a million miles from anorexic. Perhaps she even had a touch of it, bearing in mind her slightly glum aura and palid complexion. Her tits were the really small, fried egg type – that was plainly obvious long before her removal of her bra. Her legs were thin but not quite the unnaturally thin of the malnourished, which would have been a bit of a turn-off. All in all, he would have preferred more flesh, curves, and bumps ideally, such as the blonde earlier.
“Yeah, you are. But you look great,” he said. “Just perfect.” Technically, he had just called her a bitch, but it was okay since she’d called herself one.
The joke was not lost on her. She smirked. “I like what I see too.”
She appeared to want to get into bed without further messing, so he followed the momentum. There would be a last moment of potential awkwardness: to produce a condom might make him look like a dork, but not to mention it at all might make him seem a reckless idiot. It didn’t look like she was going to raise the issue, so he chose a middle line.
“I’ve got condoms with me,” he said, responsibly. But he said it with a kind of shrug and question intonation that meant: ‘but we don’t really want to use them, of course, do we?’
She pursed her mouth in a nonchalant negative and gave a little shake of her head. So, she wanted cum every bit as much as he did. It was going to be a slick, messy, sharing kind of night. Dirty, honest fun ahead, of the best kind. In his experience, this was also only a step away from meaning she was a swallower, a drinker. That was not necessarily the case, though; he would just have to see how things went. But the prospects for a real filthy night were good.
Her vital part – her cunt – was now revealed, and he got a few seconds to see it before they got into bed. It was hairless. Slightly disappointing that: Jason liked a bit of natural fuzz – the plucked Turkey look was for younger guys or porn magazines, not the real thing. Never mind, he could live with it – hell, he might even get converted. She was also taking a pretty unsubtle look at his thickening cock as it stood out proudly from his body. In the time it took following her into the bed and shuffling up to her warm, thin body, it went from horizontal and semi-hard to virtually straight up, iron-stiff, and throbbing against his own belly. The light was kept on, as he had hoped and expected. Strangers they may have been, but neither was coy or self-conscious about the whole thing, and both were as eager as each other to see everything and find out what they were both like in bed.
The bed, not really meant for two, squeaked already as they fidgeted around in the restricted space for a position. Girl flesh: oh God, she was so warm, smooth, and her slender frame seemed so delicate. These sensations never ceased to get his hormones pumping despite his experience and conquests. What did she feel? - an equivalent arousal about the muscles, hairiness, greater height, weight, and power of the masculinity that was going to get between her legs?
They began on their sides, face to face, with kissing and caressing the upper parts of each other’s bodies and arms. Mouth kissing was slow and exploratory, each relishing being fresh strangers. Tongues poked and probed, and they soon began to guzzle on each other’s jaws more wantonly. Her faint acne around her nice, small mouth was endearing rather than ugly. Strangely, her face now seemed rather more bland – but such extreme closeness always tended to make one girl seem just like another. Bodies were always subtly, sometimes vastly, different, however. Soon he was feeling her all over: sides, hips, legs, tits, and ass. He loved the way his hand could clutch an entire buttock quite easily, but he equally loved bigger asses. The thing was to just savour your present conquest for what she was and enjoy her individual attributes. Savour the wondrous female variety.
Before long, his hand went to her cunt, playing with it in all ways: palming, knuckles, fingertips, delicate pressure, and harder pressure. Also, it frequently went back to her ass, venturing fingers into her crack, which she didn’t seem to object to. He made a point of giving her breasts, such as they were, plenty of attention too. He slithered and pressed his knuckles in circles around them and on them. He groped them, but not clumsily or aggressively. She was doing plenty of feeling too – before long, on his cock itself.
The worst thing he could do would be to cum while she had her hand round his shaft. Not because she would be upset to get a white, messy hand, but because he would have disappointed her expectations for him to be skilled and disciplined in bed. He was too experienced to do that. Oh no, his first cum was going to be saved for up her cunt, especially in view of their no-condom understanding. It would be the necessary consummation of their brief acquaintance, the thing they were both building for. Animal lust – the ultimate age-old act, pure and simple. He wanted it, she wanted it.
It was time for the proper sex. Jason shuffled down the bed a little, so that he could kiss and suck her tits. He did wish they were a bit bigger. Yeah, bigger tits were definitely more fun, though not overly big of course, but bigger than these little pancakes of hers. Christ, you’d think she was 12 or something. He was glad he knew she worked in a bank, he witticised inwardly, as that proved she must indeed be 19. Never mind: they were enjoyable in their way.
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