To be a whore, a slut. To be used by men. To suck them and lick them. To taste them. To feel them inside of me, deep inside of me. To feel them shoot ...heir hot cum in me. I so longed to be their sexy feminine whore, willing to do whatever they might ask of me. I was in a trance, partly from the coke, partly from the pill that Derek had given me, and partly from my own wanton lust. I just wanted to suck that cock, nuzzle his balls, kiss them and serve him. I was a slut.I felt a finger upon my. Angela and her husband linked their arms around her dad and helped him to their car. Her father threw a glance back at the funeral home. “Oh Angela,” he wailed. “How can I leave her in that cold, dark place? Damnit, she should be alive and well and sleeping in my bed with me!”With gentle persuasion, Angela managed to get her father into the car. The man spoke not a word all the way to his house. Tears dripped from his eyes as he stumbled up the steps to the cold, lifeless home that had. It had all started with that chariot race, eighteen months ago. The chariot driver had flicked her with a crop and she had sworn at him. The man had not been offended. Indeed, he had been amused and Francine had gone on to win, so what the Hell?One day in the village tavern the conversation had got around to Francine, as it so often did. She was famous and highly popular these days. Various people had Francine stories to tell and he dragged this incident out of his subconscious. All laughed as. I check my face in the mirror, my skin is flushed my hair matted, I look a state and my eyes look wild because it’s how I feel. I tidy myself up a bit and dry my wet pussy before returning to the bedroom. You’re on my bed now and you’re smiling a knowing sort of smile which makes me wonder what you’re thinking, I don’t ask though because I’m certain to find out soon enough. I climb on the bed and lay down beside you, you run your hands down the length of my back, taking in the.