Hardcore sex is all you have to look forward to now, sweetie.
Hardcore sex is a lot of work. You can’t just decide you want to be a total slut for cock. You have to be trained for it, intensely. Sure, it’s novel and cute to whimper and moan when a big, hard stud is taking your ass cherry for the first time. But the appeal of breaking a bitch in gets old quick. Guys like to whip it out and have their dicks treated like fucking royalty. They don’t wanna teach you. They want to enjoy that moist little cock socket. They don’t want to worry about whether or not they’re hurting you or if you could handler their 12-inch cobras. They want to pump you hard until you’re filled to the brim with their cock snot.
This is what I do, honey. I turn otherwise nice guys into nut sleeves. But you didn’t know that at the time. You weren’t even on my radar to become one at first. You were just a casual neighbor who came over every now and then. Sometimes you heard…things…coming from my basement but you could never make them out. Maybe a moan here and a muffled cry there. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions but basements don’t make that kind of noise on their own.
All I can say is that you were warned.
When you asked about my basement, I kindly reminded you that you need not concern yourself with it. I made excuses and, basically, I tried to save you. Because, once you went down there, there was no coming back up. At least, not as the same person you used to be. But you know what they say about curiosity. And, when I excused myself to the bathroom briefly, you saw that as your opportunity. Creeping down the steps, your eyes bear witness to the cornucopia of tools that could only be meant for one purpose.
“Sigh, the pretty ones always look,” you hear my voice say from behind.
Then everything goes black.
My hardcore sex stories don’t end here, baby. Call my phone sex line for more or look for part two!
