My Steamy Story: She is meeting the man in a hotel room f...

My Story Time:

Okay, so I walk into this boujee hotel suite, and this dude is just… waiting. He’s got main character energy for sure, all serious in his chair. He wants the tea on how I handle a party for thirty-five guys. No cap, bestie, I was born for this.

I sat down, crossed my legs just so my skirt rode up. “Look,” I said, leaning forward. “I’m a slut. Period. I say it so you know I’m not gonna get shy when thirty-five dicks come out to play.” I saw his eyes flick down. Got him.

“So, the arrival,” I continue, my voice dropping. “I let the vibe get awkward. I let them stare at my pussy through my leggings until someone finally cracks and asks if I’m a whore.” I mimicked a shocked gasp. “‘Oh, you think I’m a whore? Thank you! Do you like whores?’” I watched his Adam’s apple bob. “That’s when I bust out the party bag. Lube, condoms… a little dog bowl with my name on it. I don’t explain shit. I just let them see it and start thinking with their dicks.”

I got up, pacing a little, feeling his eyes on my ass. “Then the game. Truth or Dare. They have to guess my body count.” I stopped in front of him, looking down. “It’s over a thousand. Saying it out loud sometimes makes me feel… cheap. But then I see a guy get hard hearing it, and I’m like, slay. That’s the point, right?”

I knelt in front of his chair, putting us eye-level. My tone got low, confessional. “The kissing starts. I go around the circle, making out with every single one. Deep, sloppy, tongue kisses so they all know I’m easy. A line forms. Hands are everywhere, groping my ass, squeezing my tits. I’m getting manhandled and I’m loud about it. ‘OMG, you’re all making me look like such a slut!’”

I reached out, my fingers ghosting over the obvious bulge in his pants. “You wanna see? For the interview?” My voice was a whisper. “I can show you how I’d start. Right here.” I unzipped his fly slowly, my eyes locked on his. “I’d get your cock out, just like this… and I’d kiss the tip. Then I’d look up at all of them and say, ‘Who’s next?’”

I took him into my mouth, deep, letting my throat relax. I pulled off with a wet pop, his dick shining with my spit. “That’s the moment,” I breathed, stroking him slowly. “That’s when they lose control. They call me every name, film it, cum on my face… and I just open my mouth wider. Because I’m their slut. So… do I get the job?”

I didn’t wait for an answer. I just went back down, taking him all the way to the base, my moans vibrating around his cock. He was already bucking his hips. Interview fucking over.