My Steamy Story: My approach? I never just give the numbe...

My Story Time:

Okay, so picture this: I’m at this boujee AF rooftop party, wearing this little black dress that’s basically a glorified belt, no cap. The vibe is already spicy, and this group of guys—finance bro types, you can just tell—started orbiting. One of them, let's call him Jake because of course that’s his name, gets a little liquid courage and just blurts out, “So, a girl like you… what’s the number?”

My heart did a little flip, but I kept my main character energy on lock. I took a slow sip of my drink, letting him sweat. “More than your girlfriend, probably,” I said, all casual. His friends ooohed and he got this look—like, half shocked, half turned on. I could see the outline of his dick starting to press against his stupid chinos. Iconic.

He was like, “No way, you’re fucking with me.” So I leaned in, my tits practically spilling out, and whispered, “Would you believe me if I told you I lost count after a summer in Ibiza?” His eyes went wide. The conversation got real direct, real fast. They were asking where, how, who. I fed them just enough—a story about a balcony, another about a club bathroom—and watched them all get hard. The pretense was gone. Jake finally put his hand on my thigh, his thumb rubbing high up, and growled, “You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?”

That was my cue. I just nodded, biting my lip. He didn’t even wait. He pulled me by the hand into a dark corner near the elevator bank, pushed me against the cool glass wall, and his mouth was on mine, all tongue and teeth. His hands groped my tits, pinching my nipples through the thin fabric. I was already so wet, I could feel my pussy getting slick.

He yanked my dress up around my waist, and I wasn’t wearing any panties—shocker, I know. He groaned, “Fuck, you’re soaked,” and shoved two fingers inside me. I gasped, my head hitting the glass. “You like that, you dirty whore?” he breathed into my ear. I just moaned, “Yes, fuck yes.” I fumbled with his belt, got his cock out—it was thick and already leaking—and guided it to my entrance. He didn’t ask. He just pushed in, filling me up in one rough stroke. OOF. I cried out, my nails scraping down his back. He fucked me hard and fast against that wall, the whole city lights blurring behind him. I could hear his friends maybe a few feet away, laughing, completely unaware. The risk made it so much hotter. I came with a choked scream, my pussy clenching around his dick, and he followed, grunting as he emptied himself deep inside me. We just stood there for a second, panting, before he pulled out and zipped up like nothing happened. Sheesh. What a night.