My Steamy Story: on a street corner where many whores sel...

My Story Time:

Okay, so, spill the tea on my Saturday night, bestie? It was a whole thing. I'm posted up on my usual corner, my cheap pink latex briefs are riding up my ass, and I can feel the word 'SLUT' tattooed on my lower back just... glowing under the streetlight, I swear. My new giant bimbo tits are about to pop out of this top, and my hair is still wet and sticky from the last group. I’m trying not to gag, low-key, because I’ve swallowed so much cum tonight I feel like a human jizz jar. No cap.

This guy rolls up, all swagger, and is just like, “Heard you’re the swallowing slut.” My heart kinda sank, but I just put on my glossy neon-pink smile and was like, “You heard right, baby.” He doesn’t even wanna talk price, just shoves me against the brick wall and gets his dick out. It’s already hard, and he just guides it straight to my lips. I’m thinking, one more load, you can do this, as I open up.

I take him deep, trying to remember my tricks, but my throat is so raw. I can taste the salt of the other guys still on my tongue. He starts fucking my face, hard, groaning, “Yeah, you filthy whore, take it.” I’m just focusing, my mascara is probably dripping, but I’m nodding, letting him use my mouth. Then his grip on my ponytail tightens and he grunts, “Gonna fill your slut stomach.” He doesn’t even warn me, just pulses hot cum straight down my throat. I swallow on reflex, but it’s too much. I feel my stomach lurch. I pull back, coughing, some of it dripping down my chin onto my already messy top.

He just zips up, laughs, and says, “Told you you were a slag.” And I’m just there, trying to smile, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, thinking, yep, that’s 301. Iconic, right? Ugh. Time to go home and try not to puke. Again.