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Leaning over the edge of the tub, she turned her head to make sure he was watching. As a smirk creased her lips, she reached back with one hand, drawing a fine line up and down the crack of her ass. Damp from the water, she stopped at the entrance, tapping once on the sealed opening. She cried out, her breathing stopped as though she were a mouse in a trap. A single finger pushed inside, sending waves of pain through her entire body. Pain would not detour her. She knew the price she would pay to put on this show. As the tight rim cut the circulation from her finger, she pushed deeper in to prove she was worthy of his time.

The male sat perplexed. Did he join her and replace her finger with his cock, or watch the show and force her to cum by herself? A sadistic grin creased his lips the moment she begged for his help.

“Please,” she cried. Her voice a raspy cry of needed release.

His laugh louder than usual, but then again, the show she was putting on seemed to amuse more than excite the man. A socialite with the morals of a saint. Well, when the camera rolled, she was as pure as snow. When the lights dimmed, the whore played games with her sick little mind.

“Please, what?” he asked, his tone toying with the female.

Fingers moving in and out of her tightest opening, mumbles now replaced her words. Every emotion known to God raped her mind as she lost control of all self-respect.

“Please fuck me like the whore that I am,” she begged.

Smug, he took the final withdrawal from his cigarette. His body now upright, he stood at the edge of the tub, ashing the cancer stick on her ass. “I have no need for whores. Finish that mess and leave before I have you removed,” he said, his words dripping sarcasm.

Cries of pleasure echoed through the small room. Her screams of relief music to his ears. The more he denied her, the more she would realize that every woman is a whore given the right situation.

The post Can Anyone Become A Whore? appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Have you ever felt a dream so real that you woke up still shaking from the impact? I have.

A simple coffee during a rainstorm, or was it fate? When I plopped into the small cafe around the corner from my house, I never anticipated meeting someone. It was the last thing I wanted. Just getting out of a messy relationship, I was taking a year’s sabbatical from dating. Well, that was the plan, at least.

Secluded in the corner booth of the small shop, I had just wrapped my hands around a steaming cup of coffee when lightning lit up the sky. A laugh was my first response to the extraordinary light show. Los Angeles isn’t known for freak thunderstorms, so this one was special. Maybe the Gods above decided to cleanse the earth of all the filth that littered the streets. Heaven knows this place can use a little clean up right now. I leaned back, my feet stretched out and resting on the seat across from me. There was no better reason to stay inside than to people watch. I have a little addition to that sort of thing. Some write, others scream, but I make up stories in my head about the lives of others when I am feeling my lowest. A gentle exhale escaped as I took my eyes from the window to the man in the opposite corner from me. He was fortyish, jet black hair, and eyes, god, they were the greenest I have ever seen. The kind that vain people photoshopped on themselves to intensify their pictures. Maybe they were contacts, but in my mind, they added a little mystery to his presence.

“More coffee,” she asked.

Startled for a minute, I didn’t even hear the waitress walk up. As I sat my cup down, the fresh java penetrated my nose with a heavenly aroma. “Oh, yes, please. Sorry, I was zoning out with this weather and all,” I said. I smiled at the woman. Her expression never changed. She could care less about what I was doing or the weather. I’m sure she hated her life, and her feet ached from running around this place all day. I think she was the only waitress, or at least, the only one I saw. As she refilled my coffee, I went back to that hunk in the corner. God, did I just refer to that dream man as a hunk? That was a term my mother would use. Maybe I am losing my mind after that breakup. I thanked her as she walked away, but no response. I chose not to tell her the back of her uniform skirt was tucked into her panties with a personality like that. She could walk around all day showing her ass for all I cared.

A little bit of sugar makes the coffee go down. I was humming that as the seat across from me was taken by none other than Mr. Green eyes himself. Under the table, I pinched my thigh to make sure this was real, or had I went down the rabbit hole of my mind again?

“You’ve been sitting there for fifteen minutes watching me. Have we met?” he said.

I was speechless for a moment. I shook my head from side to side, my blue orbs locked with his. “I’m sorry. This weather makes me daydream more than usual. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” I said.

I couldn’t even fathom a man like this talking to me, let alone sitting across from me. God, what the hell was happening here? Have I lost my mind? Or was this dream a reality?

He sat the cup of black coffee in his hand down on the table, and without a second thought, removed my shoes and placed my feet in his lap. I wanted to pull back, but when his hands started to slowly massage the soles, I couldn’t. I was mesmerized by the boldness of his actions, and well, to be honest, the way it felt to have this stranger put his hands on me without my permission. A gentle tug, and he placed my feet against his crotch, pushing to allow me to feel the full length of his manhood.

“Oh shit,” I stumble for words, my coffee cup shaking in my hands.

A soft chuckle from the man as he continued to rub my toes, smiling as though this was as natural as breathing. “So, do you come here often? Bad pick up line?” he asked.

Again, I shook my head from side to side, almost choking on my words. “No. It was raining, and I needed shelter,” I said, lowering my voice to barely a whisper, “What are you doing? What if someone sees?”

Nonchalantly he said, “I’m rubbing your feet and enjoying a nice cup of coffee. Two strangers are sharing a booth and getting to know each other. Nothing wrong with making friends.”

I arched my feet against his crotch, pushing down on his dick in response. “No, it’s fine. I just was wanting to know if this was something normal for you?” I said. As I pumped my toes against what I assume was the head of his dick, he moaned out, closing his eyes for a minute. I never want this dream to end.

God, what if I made this man cum in his pants? Jesus, that would be humiliating for both of us. Well, for him, at least. He will have the wet spot, not me. I pressed harder, my toes rubbing back and forth. I could tell he was going to get off. I never felt when he tugged his zipper down, but I felt his. The skin on skin, he was jacking off with the help of my bare feet. A deep groan, and he soaked my toes with his cum, using the soles of my feet to milk himself. I closed my eyes for a minute, trying to understand what just happened, but when I opened them, he was gone.

“Miss, more coffee?” the waitress asked.

I stumbled for words, “No, just the check.”

“Oh, no need to worry about that. The gentleman in the corner paid for your coffee. You’ve been sleeping for a while,” she laughed as she walked off.

Was it a dream? How could that be so vivid and a fantasy? Pulling my feet from the other side, looking down at my bare toes covered in cum. As my cheeks flamed in heat, I looked over at Mr. Green eyes, shocked when he lifted his cup and nodded to me.

Well, that was a dream worth sharing. Want more? Call me on niteflirt

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