You wake Leon sweetly.

You wake to a musty, musky smell and a feeling of hard warmth wrapped around you like an old, crusty blanket. It is surprisingly comforting, despite your embarrassment at being the little spoon to an old hobo in a room full of strange men. You realize regrettably that you still haven't lost that blush of shame that comes after you do. With weed you could dull it, but now you wake to nothing but whispers of reprisal and a aching need to be filled.

Luckily, Leon has the latter covered, his cock is still nestled warmly inside you after last night's revelry. You cringe at your own humiliating horniness, but it doesn't stop you from squeezing down on his cock with your needy cunt, stirring it to life. You grind against his swelling shaft under the blankets, your frenzied movements and fervent moans waking the rough men around you even as Leon slumbers. He must be some kind of hobo royalty, because they lick their lips and stroke their filthy cocks, but none dare to make a move on you.

Your shame sparks an ember which bursts into a flame. Your slutty side arises like dancing smoke and you peel off the blanket so everyone can see you slide your plump ass on Leon's hard cock. They kick off their blankets too and soon the room is filled with the **** grunts and smacking, wet strokes of hard cocks. You cry out like a baby bird taking flight for the first time, afraid you'll fall...but your Hobo King hears your cry, and waking, catches you.

"Early riser, eh? You might not be a UNH bum after all. I'm gonna take you NNH under my wing. Teach you the NNFsigns, the tricks, the language...and you're NNNG gonna be my little NNNH alarm clock every MOAN morning!" Leon fills your hungry cunt with its morning meal as the room erupts in sticky jets of cum. Like champagne bottles uncorked at your coronation as Hobo Princess.

You feel no shame at the moment, no regret, only the pride of taking his massive member so skillfully and the sense of purpose so pure in milking every last drop of cum from his bindle sacks. You can practically feel the low men's desire dripping on you like so many showers of sticky spurts. Soon you will blush at the memory, but needful, blissful now...you bask in it.

"Here comes the cannonball!" Your lustful liege fills you with his potent seed. You could swear you would birth him an heir as it fills you so full it makes you feel pregnant. You cum and climax and convulse on a filthy mattress, turning your head to make out with your gap toothed, gnarled but gorgeous King. The room breaks out in raucous, racy cheers as the King takes his Queen, and you squeeze back down on his royal scepter, hoping he will take her again...and again...and again...