fantasy-pornography by Wrulf The Fithmeister

Although being a cheap sleaze-pig of 24, Andrea subconsciously tried telling herself she really didn’t know why she was skankily-dressed and standing outside The HotSpot Adult Theater shortly after dark on a sweltering Friday night in July – except…

… well, that wasn’t due to the night’s high temperature.

As a submissive and hopelessly whorish young woman with medium-brown hair, a cute face, nice though smallish milk-dumps, a shaved gash between her thighs and a sinfully round shitter, Andrea, in truth, was envious of the porn bitches taking all of the large and beautiful penises on-screen in the smut-house.

While one might say she’d often smutted herself with fantasies about working in porn, however, there was an easier way of satisfying her brazen needs, the true reason Andrea was standing in front of the theater and why her already-messy twat was itching…

… though the indecent bitch sharply inhaled to see that the white, 26-y/o Thad not only was tightly muscled, but dangerously close to handsome.

And a menacingly exciting glint of deprecating lust smoldered in his eyes as they boldly disrobed her while he walked up to accost her: ‘Ummm, a nice piece of meat with a sweet cock-sucker hanging off the front of its slutty, fucking head!’

Andrea quietly moaned, since his vulgarity had a drop of twat-grease oozing out of her front hole, being she was just smart enough to know that trashing herself around to strange dicks usually involved deprecation. After all, while strange men didn’t necessarily like her in the usual sense, they liked dick-stabbing her precisely because she was such a disgraceful fuck-pig.

As it is and should be of all true sluts, though, that aroused her, even more when Thad thrust his hand inside her left bra cup and remarked, ‘You can take it as insult – if you want – for me to say your cow-bags aren’t a lot to write home about, although they’ll do in a tight pinch,’ – and he grinned into the tottie’s eyes as he pinched her udder.

‘But, you sexy fuck-wench, why are you wearing a tit-sling? You should be proud enough of your body to slop it around all over the street for guys to ogle. That’d be better than what they’d see in the flick-house,’ Thad went on as he withdrew his hand from her bra before commanding, ‘Turn around and bend over, slag.’

Understanding that ‘slag’ meant sexual trash or refuse and feeling giddy, Andrea obeyed after giggling, ‘Okay… sir.’

Thad didn’t answer as he raised her short dress and roughly drew her panties down.

He shoved 2 fingers into her snatch and grunted, ‘Even a dog would know what that slit is for, twat-face!’ – and he stirred her pot a few times before removing and goring his fingers up her entrails while she softly squealed.

‘Amazing, bitch! You’re mighty tight back here for such a loose cunt of a fuck-toilet, and, yes, you’re a cunt in the shit-hole, slag!’ he said.

Beyond the inspiring belittlement of turning up her rump on the street and though a bit startled, Andrea then became even hotter over Thad not asking if she wanted to copulate with him, instead growling, ‘Hell, you’re going to take something a lot bigger than my fingers in your turd-pussy! I already know; you’re a dirty, fucking whore!’ – with him then pulling his fingers out of her bottom and ordering, ‘Follow me, you low-class slunt!’

‘Slunt?’ – that was a new term for Andrea!

Despite having the born-instincts of a massively-used harlot, however, Andrea wasn’t sure she could believe she was tailing Thad by 2 or 3 feet as he led her around to his sports car in the theater’s rear parking lot, where he silently opened the front passenger’s door for her to get in.
He’d already removed his cell phone from his pocket and his gorgeous, brutally fat, 10-inched plunger from his jeans when he took the wheel.

‘Nice and big isn’t it, you no-name cock-hog?’ he smiled, nodding downward and taunting the cunt by flexing his penile muscles as she reached for his man-tool.

‘Get your hand away!’ he snarled, starting his vehicle and peeling out of the parking lot while dialing a number:
“Yo, Jason, how’s it hanging?”
“Fucka’!