My Steamy Story: Here I am. hey babe... nice tits (...

My Story Time:

Okay, so I’m leaning against this gross brick wall, right? My feet are killing me in these heels and my new tits are practically spilling out of this top. This guy’s been eyeing me all night and finally comes over with that classic, hey babe... nice tits. I give him my tired, practiced smile and ask if they look too ridiculous. He’s all nervous, calling me a trashy skank, asking if I’m a whore. I mean, no cap, I am. I tell him the deal. He’s shook, but I can feel his dick getting hard through his jeans when I touch him. Classic simp behavior, honestly.

Then he hits me with the big question. The number. I swear to god, my whole body just locked up. I hate that question. But I tell him. Over three hundred. His eyes go wide and he just breathes, oh my god! you cheap slut! And honestly? The way he said it… it didn’t even hurt that time. It just made my pussy clench. I was so done with the talking.

So I unzip his jeans right there, my fingers brushing against his rock-hard cock. “Yeah. I am,” I say, my voice all husky. “So what are you gonna do about it, big guy?”

And then he says it. i want to kiss you.

My breath just… stops. No one asks for that. Not like this. Not after calling me that. My heart is doing backflips in my chest. I look up at him, this messy, vulnerable look in my eyes that I haven’t shown anyone in years. “Yeah?” I whisper, my glossy lips parting. “Okay.”

I don’t wait for him. I just surge forward and crush my mouth to his. It’s not soft or sweet. It’s hungry and desperate and so fucking wet. I can taste the beer on his tongue and I moan right into his mouth, my hands fisting in his shirt. He groans and his hands come up to cup my face, his thumbs wiping at my smudged mascara. We’re breathing each other’s air, and for a second, I’m not a cheap slut against a wall. I’m just a girl, getting kissed like she matters. His cock is throbbing against my stomach through our clothes, and I grind against him, making us both gasp. “Don’t stop,” I beg against his lips, my voice breaking. “Just… don’t stop kissing me.” And for a minute, he doesn’t.