DMs Always Open

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Yes, this is another post about me making poor choices and engaging in absolutely fatherless behavior. I love it. And you love it.

You and I "met" online some months ago. I had been posting on and off on various forums being a slut for men my dad's age. It started off with a couple messages back and forth. Talking about my dirty writing. But you were different. Something about you made me crave for more. Something about you filled the bottomless holes in my soul that I filled with sexual gratification. I took pictures for you. My personal favorite was in my work bathroom with your name written across my tits. The one you had to coax me into was when you sent a bottle of cheap vodka to my place and made me fit the top of the bottle in my ass.

DMs turned to texting. We started swapping pics back and forth. You told me you liked my body and made me feel good about myself for a little while. We started camming and chatting on the phone. It wasn't always sexual, but it usually was. Sometimes you'd watch me fuck myself senseless for you for hours, chatting about nothing and everything in between.

You liked that I was needy enough to do whatever you wanted me to. I liked it when you called me a good girl.

Then around came Halloween. We only lived a couple hours away from each other. You paid for my bus fare to head over to your town. Some dirty pub where we could meet up for the first time. You told me to "dress like I was asking for it" and I wasn't going to disappoint.

I showed up as the sluttiest Little Red Riding Hood in town. Matching lacy red lingerie, heels, stockings and a cheap polyester hood and cape. I swear my Uber driver was waiting for me to offer a blowjob if he wasn't busy eyefucking me the whole ride over.

5 minutes after we met your tongue was licking the inside of my mouth. All of 5'3 I had to get up on my toes, even in heels to kiss you.

10 minutes later you were buying me cheap shots at the bar. A rational person might have stopped at 3 being all of 126 lbs on an empty stomach, but I am not a smart woman.

It only took you two shots before you had me on my knees so I can "beg" for the third shot to get poured down my throat. Sitting my ass on my heels. It must have been a sight seeing a girl whose excess weight went straight to my ass and thighs. All to an audience of guys and gals my age or older. I try to avoid eye contact of some of the girls my age to avoid their judgemental stares as they watch my gender traitor ass set back the feminist movement as I get on my knees for a man old enough to be my dad to pour cheap Jack in my open mouth.

I knew from the look in your eye that you were going to disrespect me for the rest of the night like I was your cheap whore. You knew from the look in my eye that I didn't give a fuck.

How does our night go?

Fuck me up Mr. Big Bad Wolf.