Hey y’all, it’s your dream fantasy mom, Dirty Dahlia, the raven haired whore herself, fixin’ to tell ’bout my raunchy night behind bars. Got pinched for slingin’ my worn-out pussy on the street—fifty bucks for a suck, hundred for a full poundin’—and them roughneck cops hauled my ass in, eyes glued to my floppy ol’ tits hangin’ outta my blouse.
Locked up tight, I reckoned it’d be nothin’ but cold bars and boredom. Wrong again! That big ol’ sergeant yanked his zipper down and shoved his fat, veiny prick through the bars, makin’ me gag on it till spit drooled down my chin and my fake teeth clacked. He blasted his thick, salty cum straight down my gullet, gruntin’, ‘That’s for whorin’, you nasty bitch.’
Night shift came in mean—two deputies flipped me over the bench. One rammed his rock-hard cock balls-deep into my soppin’ wet cunt, slappin’ my ass red while the other greased up and tore into my puckered shithole, stretchin’ it wide with his girthy meat. They swapped holes, pumpin’ till my juices gushed and I squirted, screamin’ as their hot loads flooded my guts and dripped outta my wrecked orifices.
Come mornin’, I was raw, leakin’, and lovin’ every sore inch. Them boys uncuffed me with a wink—turns out, justice means gettin’ stuffed proper. Stay filthy, darlin’s!
Dahlia
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