Accomplice Phone Sex is a family affair with Me. My girls are all part of my gang family and I don’t just talk nasty on the phone, I live it. That’s why when D (one of my favorite little dealers with too much cash and not enough control) texted me, whining about being bored and hard at the same time, I gave him exactly what he needed. “Back room. Twenty minutes. I’ll bring the entertainment,” I replied.
I brought three.
Three filthy little whores, dolled up like sluts going to prom—but I’d picked the dresses, and every one of them had a hidden zipper for easy cock access. Their makeup was perfect, hair tug-ready, and not one of them wore panties. Just like I trained them. By the time I dragged them into that reeking, dimly lit bar room behind the kitchen, D and his boys were already unzipping. Cocks out, hard, waiting. Hungry and ready to give some Hardcore ass fucking
And my girls? They were shaking.
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“On your knees, bitches,” I barked, yanking one by her ponytail until she collapsed on the sticky floor. “Open those mouths. These men are gonna use you like the cum dumpsters you are.” They obeyed, of course. Because when I speak, my whores don’t think—they serve.I tied the redhead’s wrists behind her back and shoved her mouth onto D’s cock. He grabbed her skull with both hands and fucked her throat like she was nothing but a warm sleeve. Her spit sprayed onto his pants, tears rolling down her cheeks, but I just smiled.
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“Don’t you dare pull back,” I warned. “Choke on it, slut. He’s earned it.”
Next girl? I bent her over a barstool, strapped her thighs open, and let one of the boys slide into her soaking hole raw. She screamed. I laughed. “You hear that, D?” I purred. “She’s singing your name already.” I climbed onto the counter like a queen watching her court fuck the life out of her offerings. One of the guys asked if he could use the third one’s ass. I nodded, licking my lips.
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“She’s been saving that hole just for someone like you,” I whispered. “Give it to her rough. Make her remember you every time she tries to sit down.” By the time D blew his load down the redhead’s throat, her mascara was a war zone. I grabbed her face so proud I had sent her Naked teen pictures with smeared cum across her lips like gloss.“Good girl,” I whispered mockingly. “You’ll swallow next time, won’t you?” She nodded, gagging. The room stank of sex, sweat, and sin—and I’d never been more proud. My girls were wrecked. Holes stretched, bodies bruised, moaning messes slumped on the floor like used toys. And me? I didn’t even take my heels off. Because I don’t fuck for men—I feed them. And baby, I’m always hungry for more.
You see, there’s something incredibly alluring about the idea of being used as a mere object for someone else’s pleasure. The thought of being reduced to a hole for a man to use, to be fucked and filled until I’m gaping open and begging mercy gives me such a rush, my pussy has a tsunami!
