Stripper in a Seedy Dive
You bend over and lean on the stage. You let his finger have you, and let out a moan. Table seven likes that. Inches away, a dancer cavorts. You watch her as the finger saws in and out of you. "I can dance like that," you think.
Few things Goddess had ever done to you compare to the humiliation of being fingered in a room full of men. Your mangina clutches at his finger like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline. [CARROT]
You love this. You love the feeling of his finger in and out of your cunt. You love that your mouth tastes of cum. You love the degradation of people watching you love this.
There can only be about a hundred dollars on that stage. But if you let a guy fuck you, that'll be at least a hundred dollars, maybe more. And you'll enjoy it. You know you will.
Oh, that finger feels awesome, but it will never be enough. Never enough. Plus, you need to earn twenty-seven thousand for the bikes. You make up your mind.
You want to get fucked. You need to get fucked.
You have to get fucked. You will get fucked.