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I Know What My Mouth is For, Sir

submissive whore

On my knees, my wrinkled knees aching on the cold floor, i am still a submissive whore, I beg for it. ‘Please, Sir, use this old whore! Use her mouth.’ He grabs my gray hair, yanks my head back, and rams his thick cock past my loose dentures, straight into my throat.

Gag on it, you disgusting granny slut!’ he roars, thrusting balls-deep. I choke, spit bubbling from my lips, eyes streaming tears. My sagging tits flop as he skull-fucks me mercilessly. ‘Your dried-up pussy’s worthless, but this ancient gullet milks dick like a pro!’

He slaps my cheeks raw, spits in my face. ‘Swallow every inch, liver-spotted crone! No mercy for fossil cunts like you!’ My throat bulges, false teeth scraping his shaft. I gurgle, loving the burn, the humiliation.

‘You’re just a pathetic cum-dump, Edith!’ He pumps hot loads down my gullet. I swallow greedily, thanking him with sobs. ‘Yes, Sir, feed your irrelevant old bitch.’ Broken, owned, and always craving more.