My Steamy Story: Here I am. look at the size of those ...

My Story Time:

Okay, so no cap, I was having a whole moment on that corner, right? My brand new tits were out and about in this cheap pink top, and this guy just walks up, his vibe instantly… intense. He clocks the ‘SLUT’ tattoo on my back, calls me a street hoe, and the whole thing was a big yikes, but also… low-key, I could see the outline of his dick getting hard in his jeans. I’m a working girl, IYKYK, so I just leaned into it, told him about the blowbangs, the hundreds of guys, and he’s calling me a skanky slut while his cock is literally straining against his zipper. The cognitive dissonance was wild, but the rizz was there.

He followed me into the alley, and I just sank to my knees on the gross pavement. No foreplay, period. He grabbed the back of my head. “I want to face fuck you a little bit, slut,” he grunted, and OMG, bestie, he wasn’t playing. He shoved his thick cock so deep into my throat I gagged instantly, tears springing to my eyes. I could feel him hitting the back of my throat with every thrust, my pussy getting embarrassingly wet from the sheer degradation of it. “Gag on it, you cheap slut,” he growled, and I did, my nose pressing against his pelvis, my mascara running.

When he pulled out, I was a mess, drool and pre-cum all over my chin. “Suck my balls, whore,” he ordered, and I did, taking one then the other into my mouth, sucking gently while I stroked his shaft. I could tell he was close. “Tell me where you want it! Tell me what you are!” he demanded, his voice shaking.

I looked up, my lips swollen, and whispered, “In my throat, please! I’m a slut! I’m your fucking slut!” That was all it took. He started tapping my head frantically, calling me every name in the book as he came, and I swallowed every last drop, my throat working around him until he was soft. I slumped back against the brick wall, spent and used, feeling his cum warm in my belly. “That’ll be twenty,” I rasped, and honestly? It was kinda iconic.