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Everyone whether they want to admit it or not, has a fantasy that someone else would consider disgusting. Do I? Sure, but there is a difference between me and the normal person. I am not afraid of what people think of me. My life is an open book for the world to read. I’ve opened the doors to my dirty little secrets, so, are you ready to hear my fantasy?

His words penetrated her soul with a fever that no traditional medication could control. Wicked, his eyes boring holes into her frame as he sat across the room watching the young blonde undress. Each article of clothing tailored to fit, but she removed them as though they were thrift store quality. Money was never an object when he was involved. She would rip each thread from the silk in which it was sown if he demanded. She stopped at the panties, the red ones he sent to her the night before. Lace bikini cut with a small red bow on the band. They resembled the ones Victoria Secret used to entice men into the store. The difference with him though, was that these were the trophy from the last conquest. His bad habit was taking the panties from his victims.

“Leave them on. I don’t want to see your cunt, well, not yet at least,” he vocalized.

She moved across the floor like a cat stalking her prey, stopping only inches from his large frame. God dammit, why was he the drug she craved more than any other? Her lungs expanding with argumentative breath, she struggled with the intensity. Smirking, her crimson lips curling up, even the Cheshire cat would be jealous of her smile. A swift strike of her tongue over her bottom pillow, she moistened the stain with a saliva gloss. Yes, yes, he would like that. Her mouth wet for him. He never said a word, but she heard him inside of her head. He didn’t need to speak. She knew.

“May I?” she whispered.

“May you, what?” he laughed.

“Let you rape my throat with your cock,” uttered the young blonde.

His hand moved down to the jeans he wore, grabbing the crotch of his pants with a rough grip. He was taunting her, and she knew it.

“Are you a good girl?” he asked.

Her head shook from side to side as she smiled, “No, no I’m not. I am a cock craving whore.”

As a master would call his dog, his hand slowly tapped his pants to advance her to his lap. Sighing, his hands now on the side of the chair, he waited. She didn’t expect him to help, did she? Of course, not. A cock craving whore knows her place on the food chain.

“Thank you,” her body shook as she whispered.

Slowly taking the space between them away, her slender digits working down his zipper with ease. The button next, one slip of her hand and she released him from the confines of his pants. It was at the point, that she used the tip of her finger to push a strand of drool that escaped from the side of her mouth. Looping the saliva around her finger, she pushed it back into her warm mouth, pulling back with a soft suck. God, wait, there was no God present here. All she wanted was her throat to be ripped from her body and used as a cock sleeve for this man. He intoxicated her soul.

He pushed his body back in the chair, lifting a bit to allow the release. As he placed his hands behind his head and laced his fingers, he waited. She knew what to do. They all knew. A breath exhaled, he was tired of waiting, and she would know that before the night was over.

As though a serpent, her tongue perched between her lips, tasting the air around. Fuck, he was delicious, and she hadn’t yet tasted his nectar. Slithering up the underbelly of his cock, her tongue followed the thick vein from his sac to the head. A flicker back and forth, she painted his cock with an overabundance of saliva. Every stroke of her tongue caused her body to tingle with a wanton desire.

“Umf,” he muttered.

Both hands on the floor to brace herself, she wrapped those pretty lips around the head of his cock, engulfing to the rim. A slow roll of her tongue, she fucked the slit with the tip of her oral muscle, pulling back with a sudden pop. Eyes to his, her lips in a well-defined whistle as she blew on the damp mushroom. Inch by inch, she engulfed him, her crimson prints left around the base of his thick cock. As much as she tried, the gag reflex was too strong. Choking on the size, her mouth slowly retracted, saliva pouring the moment her lips released the meat.

“No!” his voice boomed like a clap of thunder.

H reached out, grabbing the back of her head and forced his cock against the seal of her lips. With force, his hand pushed down, the head of his cock threatening to break her teeth if she didn’t comply. Lacing his fingers in the soft strands of her hair, he didn’t stop until every inch of his dick stretched her mouth to capacity.

“Bitch, do you choke?” he asked, yanking her head back, looking into her shocked eyes.

“No, no we don’t choke,” she whimpered.

He pushed her head down hard, the head of his cock pushing deep into her throat, holding tight to stop her from pulling away. It wasn’t about what she wanted, but about what he needed. Forcing his hand back with regret, no sooner did he give her a breath did he take it back away. There is giving head, and then there is this. Throat fucking with a jackhammer speed, the head of his cock causing her mouth to bleed from the size. One after another, his thrust causing him to lift from the seat to impale her on the length. No longer a concern as long as she kept her mouth open, he used it for his pleasure.

Gasping, her face turned blue from the lack of oxygen. Crying with each thrust, her eyes widened, the streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. Cheeks bulging, her lips burned from the stretch. Her pain was his pleasure, and the more she gagged, the closer to cumming he was. Her nostrils flare as his hand restrained her head, holding her throat to the point of collapsing around the bridge of his cock.

“Fuck, eat that fucking cum,” his voice raspy as he demanded.

She opened her eyes with the first hit of scalding fluid down her throat. His nuts resting on her chin, he dumped them down her greedy throat in waves of lava from the head of his dick. Her cheeks expanded, filling them to resemble a chipmunk stuffing nuts in for the winter. In her case, she was on a liquid diet. Pure protein.

He exhaled deep, leaning back as his hand released her hair, pushing her back from the oversensitive head of his cock.

“Go clean yourself up. You’ll do better next time,” he laughed, lighting the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.