My Steamy Story: Here I am. Come on in babe. Oh wow lo...

My Story Time:

Okay, spill the tea, bestie. So here I am, trying to be all professional, but my hair is literally crusty and I’m getting grilled about my body count from last night. Big yikes. He wants a demonstration of my “crowd management,” and honestly, I’m so fucking exhausted, but the money’s good.

So I slip right back into it. I step into him, pressing my latex-covered pussy against his leg, and go in for another sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. “Mmm, you taste like the last guy,” I murmur against his lips, low-key telling the truth. My hand goes right to the front of his pants, palming his dick through the fabric. “See? While I’m doing this…” I gasp, breaking the kiss to whisper in his ear, “…my other hand is already on the next guy, stroking him off.” I mimic the motion in the air, my fingers working an imaginary cock.

“They’re all asking how many,” I continue, my voice a husky mess as I drop to my knees right there. I yank his zipper down, my fingers wrapping around his hot, hard cock. I look up at him, my mascara probably smudged AF. “And I just open my mouth.” I don’t wait. I take him all the way to the back of my throat in one go, my eyes watering. I pull off with a wet pop, spit stringing from my lips to his tip. “I say ‘lost count,’ and then I deepthroat the question away.” I go back down, bobbing my head, letting him fuck my throat, the sounds absolutely obscene. My own cunt is throbbing, soaked through the latex. This is my job. I’m the GOAT at this. Period.