On his way to the club, Richard passes Laura, stranded and down on her luck

"Glenda ... ohhhfuuuck ... slow down you needy cunt. There's enough dick for you tonight. No need to drain my balls on the way there."

Richard turned up the volume on the car radio with one hand and patted the honey blonde mane rising in his lap with the other. The soothing classical music and slowly shifting ambient lights helped him relax and bask in the waves of pleasure emanating from his lap as his neighbor/fuckbuddy went all out to prove why taking her along to make a triple date was worth it.

Reclining back in the cushioned seat of his spacious SUV, Richard pulled his pants down to give his eager cocksucker some much-deserved room. The assistance systems in his car discreetly took over the wheel while he studied the nightly cityscape passing outside the panorama window. He even turned on the massage seats to make the most of the approximately 20 minute drive before shoving his hand inside Glenda's trench coat. She reacted with an encouraging hum. Richard smiled. His neighbor’s antics were always amusing.

"Ohh, you fucking slut. You won't ever change, huh? Always the greedy, cock-hungry dickgobbler."

Once again, his erection vibrated pleasantly with another series of approving dick-in-Glenda’s-mouth "yessshhhs".

In his blissfully relaxed state, Richard's brain barely registered what his eyes perceived. For a moment he locked gazes with a stunning chick standing by the roadside and obviously looking for someone to pick her up. She was definitely a 9 at least. On a different day, he might have even stopped for her. But right now, he already had other fine sluts lined up, and despite being used to women throwing themselves at him, he didn't like leaving his sluts in the cold. He had arranged a two- (Glenda gagged on his dick, as if to remind her of her presence)... ok, three-way fuckfest, and he was intending to take each of his females for a spin. There was no doubt that each one of them would try to look the most fuckable, and Richard was looking forward to seeing what they had come up with.

Always the gentleman, he honked at the girl to signal his general interest and give her some motivation. Even if he had enough in his lap for now, Richard wasn’t an asshole. Telling a hot chick he’d blow a load in her was common courtesy after all.

The stunning wayside siren bounced up and down, making sure to flex her long, toned legs at the SUV driver. The slight ray of hope she felt when he checked her out faded as the car passed her by without slowing down. Laura, although in her late 30s, looked not a day older than 20. And that was being generous. Stranded by the concrete wall enclosing the road, she'd appear to an old-fashioned pre-Eve spectator as nothing but a slutty tramp. A particularly hot one, but still a woman objectifying herself for the masculine gaze, a shameful relic of male-dominated society soon to be left behind in the proverbial dust. The way she flaunted her thick, chiseled-without-being-too-muscular thighs and perfectly smooth, taut calves would be considered downright criminal in that forgone era.

With societal norms shifted 180 degrees, the image of freely accessible female sexuality now had become the norm. Nobody even batted an eye at a striking woman trying to make the most of the best parts of her body. Neither did Laura herself feel even an ounce of shame. Despite her advanced age, due to a steady supply of Elastix, a rigorous workout regimen, plenty of avocado toast and her secret ingredient, a regular no-holes-barred pounding of every still virgin-tight orifice in her body, Laura looked drop-dead gorgeous and absolutely wouldn't be out of place on the cover of an old-fashioned fitness magazine. She would have to make due without the last element now though.

A frown of bitter resentment drew over the brunette's features for a brief moment before it was replaced by an inviting, warm smile that all but screamed "come hither" again. It took her months in front of a mirror to perfect it, meticulously working every last detail to look so effortlessly alluring. Ever since she met Billy, she had hoped that she wouldn't need that trademark of hers anymore. Her days of being called "Miss Slutty Sunshine" were supposed to be over. If only that bitch ...

Laura's manicured, long fingernails drew into her silky soft, moisturized palm.

"You can sulk all you want later", she muttered to herself. "Now, let's put on our A-game and get some of that dick, Laura"

Besides some tiny high-cut daisy dukes that barely covered the lower half of her perky butt, there was nothing that covered her lower body from any inquisitive gaze. And Laura made sure to wiggle and work her hips seductively so everybody in traffic had something to feast their eyes on. Despite the dark clouds in her head, to any passer-by, it looked like a luxury erotic dancer was stranded on the side of the road and ready to jump in their lap. Her tiny plaid napkin top only added to the "slutty country girl" image she had perfected before she had found a boyfriend. She had learned to carry herself with confidence and stand out among dozens of no less hot and **** girls. First at run-down country restaurants, then at honky-tonks and finally even at a Hooters, one of the most exclusive restaurant chains around.

Laura’s top left plenty of her chiseled, tanned stomach and alluring, just-toned-enough-to-look-alluring torso to the imagination. Even though it struggled desperately to cover even her fairly small, but fabulously shaped boobs, she didn't even flinch as gust after gust of chilly evening air hit her.

But the gusts kept coming. And none of the cars stopped.

Laura felt the coldly familiar sting of lonesome, gloomy desperation every time she was ignored.

"Ex-boyfriend", she corrected herself mentally, just as a wave of exhaust fumes hit her delicate button nose. Right now, even that dingy honkytonk with the occasional fat, balding wannabe cowboy male customer didn't seem that bad.

Most cars were running electric of some kind these days which made the occasional gas-powered dinosaur all the more irritatingly toxic. Still smiling and looking like the easiest, sluttiest naive roadside pickup possible, Laura cursed herself once more for letting her guard down. Now she was in this fucking mess.

Although a quick look at her phone confirmed she got a notification from FuckHer that her relationship status had been changed to "Open" a mere hour ago, the down-on-her luck woman felt like it was ages ago. Already, part of her seemed emptied and hollow. Much worse than the heavy feeling in her stomach, the despair started making its way back into her headstrong mind. She already felt the nagging doubts and constant questioning of her attractiveness in the back of her head. For the past few months she deluded herself into thinking that with Billy at her side, she was beyond them. But even then, even if she didn't admit it to herself, deep down she knew that was a lie she told herself. There were plenty of equally hot, down-on-their-luck women like her, plenty of younger and more attractive ones even. And she was in constant, never ending struggle with all of them.

Stranded at the other end of town and with no car and no home to call her own anymore, now she would have to start all over again. Right back to evenings spent waiting in front of some venue's entrance, hoping her name would be called out. If she got lucky and if that legendary smile of hers still worked, up next would be sleepless nights waiting for her phone to light up. Hoping and praying the guy whose salty load she had gulped down appreciated her skills enough to call or message her. That he would treat her as more than a quick cock-warmer. It was all up to him - that was all the treatment a contractor was realistically entitled to. Then as now.

Laura knew that she wasn't particularly bright or inspired. Nor was her family particularly rich - her dad had tragically passed away during the Eve of Balance. The same tragic fate befell all but the most distant branches of the family. The dice had been rolled and her lot wasn't particularly good. There was one thing Laura had going for her though. Something that was far more important than her naturally open, outgoing personality or her tenacious, almost stubborn persistence and grit. Her mother always said that she inherited that from her Dad. Usually, the broken woman exploded into crying afterwards while Laura caressed her in her arms. As she looked past her parent’s trembling back at the picture of him they had framed on the living room table, she couldn't help but silently thank Dad for passing his good genetics on to her. Like every young girl coming of age after the Coitus Protocols, it was natural to her to spend hours in front of the mirror and groom herself from a young age and so the fact that the similarities to that picture far outweighed the ones to her pudgy, plain mom, was clear to her early on.

That young girl matured to a lithe young woman with a friendly, open face after pursuing athletics more than anything in high school. Finally moving out of their cramped home at the first chance, she spent her days in the local community college partying, drinking and chasing the few males around campus with her friends. Unfortunately neither her grades nor the college's reputation was anything to write home about. Laura had one thing going for her - she was part of the exclusive "D Club" - one of the few girls who actually managed to get laid in their third-rate town while still in college and proudly showed off the FuckHer badge that came in the mail a few days later.

It happened more on instinct than any effort on her part. She saw some guy checking her out at the campus Starbucks and put two and two together. But that lucky chance alone opened the doors of the best sorority on campus. Staying in the Alpha Gamma Delta club house, she always volunteered to maintain the hard-earned reputation “Always Go Down" had as the go-to spot for the lone male junior professor on campus and occasional out-of-town academics. Being a tour guide, arm candy and concubine in one, if the guy was courteous, or stress relief, if he was tired after his flight, didn't bother her one bit. Quite the contrary.

She loved it.

Her best friends were fellow sisters. The "Phoenix Marie Fund for Outstanding Coital Merit" was prestigious and being accepted was like a golden lottery ticket. Where other girls had to work hard on the side and study diligently to find even a dead-end office job after college, Laura rode a cushy monthly allowance and plenty of dick. Always dressed up in the latest outfits, always dolled-up and always found in the most "in" places to be around campus, the few girls afforded the privilege always felt jealous and envious stares burn into their plentiful exposed skin. It was natural to stick together, if only to avoid the jealous gossip behind their backs. It was like there was an invisible wall between them and the "other" girls. But she enjoyed being on the inside, forming a tight sisterhood of the hottest sluts on campus, an exclusive badge they wore proudly. Even after graduating, the Phoenixes remained in close contact.

"But I guess, those days it's all a fucking lie. Maybe it always was. We were all envious of each other. It was all the same."

Painful memories overwhelming her, Laura continued presenting her curves on autopilot while her nails left painful red marks where she clenched her manicured fists in anger.

After graduating college with below-average marks but gushing recommendations, Laura got a head start into the "escort and entertainment" business. On the lower rungs it wasn't much better than any other job open to her fellow graduates. Shady, bottom rung prostitution with meager pay and far too many **** girls competing for the few men unfortunate enough to require their services. Of course, with the experience and the connections she acquired in college, Laura rapidly soared into the higher-paying strata. She proudly called herself "hostess" and flaunted her first apartment on social media while her co-graduates seemed to have mostly moved in back with their parents.

Then she struck gold.

Even though he was pudgy, pasty and short, Billy was nice to her. She savored three of his thick, heavy loads before she even knew his name, but she knew they would click when he interrupted his conversation specifically to snap pictures of her spit-shining his deflating cock. After she'd cleaned him, Laura kept him warm on the drive home. She didn't get any opportunity to look out the window with her head bobbing on his lap for the entire drive, but when she had plenty of time to realize he wasn't too bad-off on the way to the master bedroom. A night spent slamming her body against his and passionately kissing him while he blew load after load inside her until her insides were completely overflowing with spunk, her status had changed to "Claimed". She had some time to explore in the morning and had to hold herself from dancing through the spacious halls of Billy's McMansion in the best part of town. But of course, she had to prepare a three-meal breakfast instead. There was no need to be impolite after all.

It seemed unreal. Not only did he practically shower her with allowance money, Billy seemed to have been living alone. Of course, she found plenty of female underwear infused with various arousing scents as well as the occasional lipstick or make-up bottle in one of the restrooms, but there seemed to be no permanent, real competition. More than that, he didn't even fuck her ass like many of the tired and frustrated academic speakers she had to serve before him.

"Why couldn't you just be fucking happy with what you had Laura?"

She had asked herself that question many times. Maybe she was too trusting. Maybe it was bound to happen. Her mom always told her not to put all her eggs in one basket. Now Laura cursed herself for not listening.

She was always used to jealous stares. Hell, she invited them by flaunting her "Claimed" badge on every occasion, be it at the grocery store or the ancient arcades Billy occasionally took her to. She made sure all the hater bitches knew their place. But when Shantelle DMed her one day, telling her she was in town and asked if she could come over, Laura didn't think anything of it. The few questions she asked about her "boyfriend" were mostly inconsequential gossip - what kind of things he liked, where he liked to spend his time, what his favorite position was. Shantelle was an old friend. Of course she was interested in such things.

The African-American stunner always felt closest to Laura. They both came from large families and had a rough start in life. They both had crawled their way up, using every free minute to work on themselves. Shantelle seemed to sincerely cherish their friendship just as much as Laura did. With the memories of all their escapades together, it didn't take much more than a few mentions of that one time they picked up two guys at the same time to sway Laura.

The brunette cursed herself again for being so naive. At first it all seemed normal. Of course, Billy had some fun with them both on the first day. Of course, he'd rail the new girl with some extra energy. He was always like that with new girls. Laura had seen it happen many times. Hell, she herself even brought a few home. But, inevitably, he'd get bored and dump them after a few rounds, tops, and saunter back to his room. With his spunk dripping out of their holes, catching up on lost time was even more fun. The brunette live-in-dicksleeve didn't think anything of the fact that Billy's cock, which she'd usually describe as "stubby" somehow felt more firm than she was used to. "Christopher", as he jokingly called his frankly underwhelming meat, was more difficult to fit into her mouth during the clean-up BJ - one of their shared little morning rituals. But she thought nothing of it.

When it was time to go, Shantelle, who officially came over for "work" but seemed to be spending most of her time inside the labyrinthine halls of Billy’s oversized tract mansion, found some bogus reason for staying. Even then, Laura, anxious for some female company, was still happy to have her. It was only when her "friend" started to lose interest in their gossip sessions and spent most of them focused on Billy's glassy, foggy eyes while he admired them from his favorite cushioned seat and stroked himself, that Laura started getting suspicious. Usually, he'd have eyes for her and not whoever was his auxiliary dick-drainer. He was courteous like that. Somewhere over the last few weeks, that had changed.

"That bitch", Laura breathed viciously as another antiquated delivery van rumbled past.

It didn't take long for the drama to start. She started catching her "boyfriend" fucking that black skank without telling her about it. Of course, she would have been fine with just watching and maybe rubbing her cunt against him or helping by letting him fondle her boobs. But somehow the “Shantelle sessions”, as he jokingly called them, always seemed to curiously overlap with the customary little rituals Billy and her had established. When they were supposed to be watching TV together and cuddling up so that he could finger-blast her like he loved to, the black skank was letting him stick his fat-fingered hands in her jungle holes instead. His morning wood now pounded dark meat instead of her perfectly shaved little kitty more often than not. Even if he always joked it away, Laura still was starting to feel uneasy. At the dinner table, it was now straightened, glossy jet black hair and not her auburn locks bobbing in his hair. Listening to the sloppy, wet sounds, Laura felt frustrated. When Billy grabbed the hair and busted a load inside Shantelle’s throat, calling her the “best fucking cockdemon he ever had”, she got jealous. He really did cum longer than he normally would.

It all blew up during those D&D sessions which were about the only thing Billy seemed to have for contact with the outside world. The face that ghetto skank made after Laura had slapped her lying visage in front of the few friends Billy had told her everything. If only Laura wouldn't have been such a needy, horny slut. If only she could have the presence of mind and asked if she could help instead of pushing that scheming ratchet hand away from his crotch and ripping at her now ex-"boyfriend"'s pants like some crazed tramp. If she had been smarter and less trusting, it could still be her making that king-sized bed creak and not that double-crossing treacherous cunt. So what if her dumb, fat chocolate fuckbags were bigger? That bitch had a fat ass that looked like it barely fit in her jeans! She couldn't even do splits, not to mention any of the athletic exercises her boyfriend loved to watch her perform.

"Ex-boyfriend", Laura corrected herself. Again. It hurt.

Cursing her own naive stupidity quietly, the freezing girl spat. It was getting chilly. Getting to the other end of town on the haute-couture platform heels Billy bought her for the game night occasion would definitely end up with some feisty slut gang looking for easy prey pulling her into the gutter and treating her like fresh meat. Damn ... if only that two-faced bitch would have stayed in her lane! Of course having a dick with so few strings attached was going to draw bad blood sooner or later. But she never expected it to be such a close friend.

Without any cash, the down-on-her-luck hottie had tragically few places to go to. Home would have been an option, but that bridge had burned long ago. Back when she was still in college, Laura made a point to flaunt how much hotter she was. Far beyond the usual sibling rivalry, Laura made sure to flaunt her success to her two sisters. Both Ashley, the older one and Kiara, the younger didn't get the worst lot in the genetic lottery either. But they were 7s or maybe 8s on a good day. She was clearly the hottest, the gem of the family. And the training regimen, a steady diet and Elastix supplements cemented her smoldering appeal only improved her chances.

Laura knew that a little sharing could have done wonders for her sisters. Just a little bit of the high-quality **** she received an ample supply of, and Ashley's tired face would have looked taut and Kiara's worry creases would have disappeared without a trace. Nobody cared if low-income scholarship benefits were shared. But Laura wanted to make a point. More than that, she had first dibs on male town visitors and regularly cockblocked her siblings. Every time she brought a man home, she rushed straight to her room and locked the door. Then she made the bed creak and screamed loud enough for the neighbors to hear it. She knew how that made Ashley and Kiara feel. How it made her mom feel, too. But, she still went ahead and got an extra perverse pleasure out of it. Her orgasms were mind-melting. What would she tell her family now?

"I'm sorry I didn't reach out a tiny bit and give you a chance to be something else but a virgin loser with a dead-end job? Oh, by the way, I just lost the dick I was actually flaunting to you, could you help me please?"

Fuck no. There was no coming back ... her only hope was attracting some man and begging him to take her to his place. Any man. It could be any of the cars passing by. They had to know she was ready to do anything. With a single, determined motion, the petite hottie stripped off her shirt and let her small, perky boobs spring free. She was always feeling self-conscious about the fact she didn't have massive chocolate jugs like Shantelle, but over the years she had learned that plenty of men preferred her small rack. For every fan of DDs, there was always a guy who loved to cup hers and play with her cute nipples, already erect and ready to cut glass in the cold.

It would still need a stroke of incredible luck for any of the cars to stop of course - at this time of the day, most of the men still out and about had some sort of on-board entertainment. Some, still at work, had one of their dedicated "companion" co-workers bobbing in their laps. Their facial expressions all had that glassy-eyed, blissful quality that only a man getting a top-notch BJ had. And corporations had the best cocksuckers on their payroll.

In their current state, most of those males doing overtime could barely be bothered to pay attention to the road, if at all. It was only due to advanced safety features that they didn’t ram into Laura. Of course, after it was determined that the risks to precious male citizens were considerable, all cars were equipped shockingly quickly. Now, sexual "distractions" were automatically detected and the car took over secondary tasks such as "keeping the lane" inconspicuously while the driver could focus on dumping a load into his lucky passenger’s willing mouth.

On the other hand, many males preferred the old-school approach of having a chick chauffeur them around while they had a party in the back. Tinted windows were a rarity and so she caught a few glimpses of steamy fucking going on in the rear seat. Only a few times the men seemed to be solo. In desperation, Laura almost broke off a heel as she tried jumping in front of one such car. It barely swerved past her at the last possible moment. Apparently, the guy was in a hurry and the sight of a topless chick, wasn't nearly enough to warrant getting out of the car or even slowing down.

At least the cars passing by with men on board were mostly upscale. Many of the female chauffeurs had on a uniform, usually a version of the suits of yore modified to show as much skin as possible. Despite not being "hands-on" in the direct sense, such positions were still coveted as they at the very least got a front row seat to the action and thus catching a male's eye. Even if they didn't get bent over the hood, “service workers” like them could still watch "their" managers rail the colleagues from HR tasked with ensuring their comfort by any means necessary. Of course, that attracted the busy-bee type of slut, the competitive ones. Laura hated that type the most. She didn't even bother striking one of her well-rehearsed "come hither" poses to the scanning, cold gazes of the hot drones driving those corporate bangbuses. Then again, if the chick driving them was that stuck-up, she could only imagine how conceited the HR officers getting pumped full of cum were.

...

Car after car came and went. Topless, homeless and hopeless, Laura had almost given up. She lost count of time, and her tanned, smooth skin was covered in goosebumps. The sun had given way to a full moon long ago. At first, she only registered the sound of squeaking tires, rusty brakes and an engine that was obviously trying its best to last one more day with the factual, impassive apathy of someone who had given up. It's only when she was hit with the bright, blinding spotlights hit her when she realized.

Somebody had stopped! For her!

Without skipping a beat, the brunette strutted over immediately, almost keeling over after standing too long in one place in the chilly cold. She didn't care for the car, only briefly registering it, without even consciously reviewing. Nor did she look at the driver. She just jumped inside. Into the warm interior. Beggars can't be choosers. Especially not if their only virtue was having a good body and a **** emptiness in their eyes.

With her on board, the car sped off, making noises that sounded anything but safe. Laura looked around for the first time, warming up in the clouded interior.

The guy inside had a pig-like face and a beer gut with a stained shirt draped over it. His car looked and smelled about as good as it sounded. Not that it mattered. He sized up his pick-ups superior body, not even bothering to hide the fact his leering gaze was directed less at Laura’'s pretty face and directly down her cleavage. Licking his small lips, receding into the folds of his sagging double chin, the driver didn't waste any time. His hand already stroked his short, sweaty-looking stump of cock while sizing his pick-up up like a piece of meat. Despite being all but disgusted by his looks, his car and his lack of class after her boyfrie... ex-boyfriend who was the exact opposite in all regards, Laura couldn't help but admit it... her pussy already was adding another small stain onto the seat. He had a cock and he was obviously interested. It was not her right to resist his urges in any way. Years of college had taught her that, at the very least.

She had jumped into his car without hesitation. It was her duty to return the favor.

Laura made an effort to hold back tears and barely even scrunched her nose when a sausage-fingered hand pushed her delicate, silky hair down. She had work to do. Using all her experience and skills she had acquired over years of sucking dick on his small, greasy hog was … fun. The guy's responsiveness, his lively comments were... refreshing. It was humiliating to admit it at first. But there was no other word for it. Laura got off of sucking some fat loser’s short dick. The feisty, naturally slutty hottie soon got used to it and completely blanked out the heavy smell of his hairy crotch. He obviously didn't have a 40 year-old with the body of a teen suck him off in a while. The way he treated her like one of the crude cumdumps was … so fucking hot. It felt like a throwback to earlier times. It made Laura feel … young again.

Armed with this feeling, her sucking got even more intense. She did not have much time to think about her predicament. With the slob pushing her head down with one hand, forcefully inhaling his sweaty pubes, his beer gut slapping against her forehead and a constant barrage of derisive nicknames hurled at her, Laura had her mouth more than full. Just like she loved it.

The honor roll student came two times, squirting over the ragged seat behind her. The man's salty, ample backed-up load hit her delicate tonsils not much later. Her body wasn't used to being used in such a way, and Laura gagged once or twice until she could finally gulp down the vile, thick sperm. Still, her partner seemed satisfied. For a brief moment, the guy had even relaxed his grip and given her some air. With her mind being blank with pleasure over the last few minutes, it was only then that she realized ... She left her shirt and the backpack with personal belongings behind by the roadside.

"COUFHGHYUUUOOPEASSHHHHH"

Her first, panicked reflex was a cry for help. But of course, it couldn't be helped - the driver - she didn't even know his name still - was far from done. Laura didn't even consider trying to back off. The obese man was angrily slamming his cock into her gullet and offering the least resistance would not end well. He looked like he was plenty pent up, and nobody in his right mind would blame him for letting go and unleashing his urges on some stranded slut. If she refused, the best she could hope for was getting thrown out. If he was in a good mood, that is. The prospect of being out in the middle of nowhere without anything but the flimsy shorts and the pair of stiletto heels she was wearing to call hers was less than alluring. Well, that and more than a few bruises too. Feeling her savior’s balls tighten again, Laura returned the favor and took him to the hilt, swallowing mouthfuls of his filthy pubes and working her throat, the out-of-his-league woman **** down another vile-tasting, heavy-smelling load from the repulsive man. She was getting her edge back quickly. Remembering her old tricks, Laura even hummed encouragingly to give him the impression that his cum tasted better than a 5-star dish. When she needed a man to like her, humiliating herself always worked best, as she learned. It also helped that his abusive, mean screams awakened the submissive side of hers. While the man was getting really into it and screaming his lungs out behind the worn out wheel, Laura’s pussy was dripping.

"Take it you dirty WHOOOORE! Swallow it! Yes! YESYESYESEATITALLSKANK!"

An old-fashioned ringing noise interrupted the man while he hurled obscenities at the girl in his lap. If Laura focused on anything but giving him the ultimate pleasure of her highly rated throat, she would have noticed he barely swerved past a couple of cunts who were sticking their heads inside a stopped car on the opposite lane. Of course, they only dared to throw a wave of gutter-speak at him because the streetwalking sluts didn’t get a shot at the driver. But they weren't completely off in thinking that someone driving a car that old and apparently without any safety features was probably a jealous chick trying to get in the way of her competitors making a quick buck.

Muttering curses and telling himself he'd run that gutter filth over the next time they'd jump in front of his rusting, falling apart beater, the fat, balding man studied his phone. Just a few moments after a near-collision, he didn't keep his eyes on the road yet again. His small, malicious eyes focused on the FuckHer call notification showing a supermodel blonde dressed in cheap throwaway clothes in front of a trailer. His “wife” (saved under the less savory nickname BITCH) didn't like him bringing other sluts around, and so he was **** to do his business in the car. The disgusting man was used to picking up the cheap whores along his way home and treated every woman who hopped into his rattling vehicle the same. At least, he could tuck in his underwhelming cock and shower himself with cheap cologne to feign innocence after relieving himself of a few loads and “getting rid” of his "entertainment" out. Still, it was risky. Sometimes that CUNT back home liked to poke her head into things that did not concern her and noticed the stains on his seat. She kept quiet, but he knew she noticed when she didn't cook for a fucking WEEK!

Even after the Coitus protocols, some men were just hopeless low-lifers, just like Laura's "knight in shining armor". Mostly, they had various physical deficiencies caused by the chemicals still in the air. Or, as in the case here, mental issues. Most were left to roam around freely. They were still men, after all. However, sometimes they had to be shown boundaries. Of course, medical professionals took care of that in discrete ways. Upsetting them was still a crime against humanity, after all. Like in this case, indirect corrective methods were much preferred. With how little the short man earned in his condition, he was **** to bear with his luxurious "wife"'s shit if he wanted to keep that silky pussy and pristine, upper-class skin. Of course, underneath the cover of being a part of his harem, that blonde skank was actually his psychologist, sent to channel his violent urges into more… suitable endeavors. The platinum blonde bombshell with a habitually smug air didn't make it a secret that she liked to hump her patient.

"Where else would I get a chance to study such a fascinating specimen?", she liked to tease him while he slapped her face around.

Even though a bombshell treated his let down of a cock like a prized possession and thoroughly milked the violent urges out his cock from morning till evening, Patient Deetz was still only road to recovery. He still craved variety. During his rare trips out, whenever he saw freebie sluts like Laura he damn sure made the best of the moment. Resisting the urges was out of his control. Even if it meant he had to take the silent treatment or some mild punishment afterwards.

Of course, he didn't plan on bringing them home. While Laura slurped around his dick, he mercilessly pushed her head down and blew another hail of white ropes into the struggling blonde until it ran out her dainty nostrils. When he would arrive home a few minutes later, his cock would have been thoroughly wiped and cleaned by Laura's fine hair. A few stray locks would decorate the passenger seat.

With the blonde off his mind, he went on his merry way. Her loud, pleading cries were already off his mind by the time he shoved her out the passenger door like a discarded sex toy. Whistling for the short rest of the ride, Mr Deetz pulled up to the trailer. Puddles of squirt on the passenger seat served as the only reminder of Laura’s bruised presence somewhere in the pitch black darkness.