**Trang’s First Time**

I never thought I’d end up like this—naked on my knees, a stranger’s cock in my mouth, the taste of his piss bitter and warm on my tongue. But I needed the money, and I wasn’t in a position to say no.

It started when I answered an ad on a sketchy forum, not really thinking much of it. Just some older guy looking for “company.” I was broke, and rent was due. He offered good money if I was willing to do whatever he wanted, no limits. I swallowed my pride and said yes.

He met me at a cheap hotel room, thick thighs spread open in an armchair, already stroking his half-hard cock through his slacks. He was older, maybe in his 40s, with a heavy beard and thick hands. “You’re prettier than I expected, Trang,” he said, voice rough. “Hope you don’t mind things getting messy.”

I didn’t answer, just stripped like he told me to, my hands shaking as I peeled off my clothes. He grinned when he saw my body—slender, my small tits, my tight little ass. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me onto his lap, his fingers digging into my hips as he ground my bare pussy against his cock. “Fuck, you’re wet already,” he muttered.

I wasn’t. But I knew better than to argue.

He spun me around and bent me over the arm of the chair, his fingers pushing into my pussy without warning. I gasped as he roughly fingered me, my breath hitching when he pulled his fingers out and pressed one against my asshole. “Ever done anal?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, sir.”

He chuckled. “Then you’re in for a treat.”

It hurt. A lot. Even with the lube he poured onto his cock, the stretch was too much, my ass burning as he forced his way inside. I whimpered, digging my nails into the chair, but he didn’t stop. He grabbed my hips and fucked into me hard, each thrust making me bite my lip to keep from crying out. “Fuck, your ass is tight,” he grunted, slamming into me with no mercy.

I felt him swell inside me, his cock pulsing as he came, thick ropes of cum filling my ass. He pulled out with a wet pop, leaving me sore and dripping.

Then he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. “Clean it,” he ordered, pressing his still-hard cock against my lips.

I hesitated, but the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t asking. I opened my mouth and licked the mess off his shaft, my own spit mixing with the lube and cum. The taste was strange, salty and bitter, but I kept going, sucking him clean like he wanted.

And then—without warning—he grabbed the back of my head and shoved his cock deeper into my mouth. “Swallow,” he growled.

I didn’t understand at first—until the warm, bitter stream hit the back of my throat. Piss. He was pissing in my mouth.

I gagged, my eyes watering as the liquid flooded my tongue, thick and sour. I tried to pull away, but he held me in place, his fingers tight in my hair, forcing me to take every last drop. “Fucking drink it, slut,” he grunted, his cock twitching as he emptied himself down my throat.

It was disgusting. The taste burned, the warmth making my stomach twist. But I swallowed, because I had to. Because he paid me to.

When he finally let me go, I coughed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My throat felt raw, my lips sticky. He smirked and tossed a wad of cash onto the bed. “Good girl,” he said.

I grabbed the money, my hands shaking. It was more than I’d ever made in a night. And as gross as it was, I knew I’d probably do it again.

Because sometimes, money is worth more than pride.