Hell-Bound Whore the devils treat

I told him I wasn’t just any slut—I was a filthy little whore who wanted to be broken wide open. The second I dropped to my knees, I shoved my tongue out, begging for his cock. The taste of him hit my mouth thick and raw, and I gagged myself deeper, drool stringing down my chin. I wanted him to see how desperate I was. I worshipped his cock like it was the only altar I believed in, choking myself to prove I could take it.

When he pulled me up by my hair, my pussy was already dripping down my thighs. I bent over without asking, spreading myself wide open, whispering, “Stretch me out. Tear me up.” His cock slammed into me, and I screamed, loving the brutal way he fed me every inch. My cunt clenched, squirting around him, soaking the sheets until the whole room smelled like my pussy.

I begged for harder, nastier, deeper strokes—anything to make me remember I’d been used like a cum dumpster. Each thrust made me cry out, my body trembling, my nipples aching as I grabbed my tits and moaned, “Yes, ruin me—make my pussy your fucking playground.”

When he coated my insides, holding me down, filling me with every dripping drop, I smiled through my panting and whispered, “I asked for it. I deserved it. I’ll always want more.”

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