DMs always open

Here I am again, back on my bullshit and whoring myself out to you lovely online perverts.

You could tell from a mile away. How I might look and act tough. Smart. Independent. But you knew deep down behind my eyes I was a needy, broken girl with a deep craving for male validation. And you? You're over twice my age and just my type.

I'm the kind of girl that would let you drag your hairy nuts over my face while I smiled for you before and after I made out with them. The kind of girl that might flinch when you groped my ass in public but not pull away. That'll pull out her tits for your friends for a few cheers if you got me drunk enough. Your wife doesn't do that for you. And she sure doesn't look up and tell you to go fucking deeper even after I make a horrid gagging sound when your cock goes down my throat.

You fucked me the day we first met. Let's be honest, I don't have the self respect to hold out.

I'd text you and tell you I had a great time after every "date" no matter what kind of fucked up porn-addled acts you made me do. How I'd come crawling back every time. You fuck me hard, and that's the only time I really feel something.

I'll dress like a slut for you. Or dress like a prude. Whatever the fuck you want. You're older than me, and I like that. My therapist suggested it's probably because I didn't have a father figure growing up. Fuck her, I get to embrace it if I want to.

I want to be talked down to. I act tough, but I'm really needy. And I want to feel needed. I want to make you feel proud of how far this pretty girl will go to impress you. All the shameful, degrading, humiliating things I'd do for you. You don't have to hold back. You can't break me. I'm already pretty broken. I'll be pretty. I'll be filthy for you. I'll doll myself up so you can watch me drool, twist, bend, pin down, spit on, and fuck like it's debased poetry.

You find me. And I need you to fuck me up.