My TV Sex Adventures Blow Job Slut

“Suck me you fucking whore!”
The guy saying that was filling my mouth with his hot nine inches of thick Latino lusciousness. I met the guy whose name still escaped me only minutes earlier in a drag bar in a southwest city. He had been nice enough and he was good looking and fit. More importantly he was very direct.

I’d met him only a few minutes before he was degrading me in my favorite way- with his cock in my mouth. After bringing me a cheap drink and sitting way too close to me he’d grabbed my hand and placed it on his super-hard cock. At the feel of his cock through his pants I tore myself away from watching a heated petting game going on in front of me between a bear and his bitch-boy. It was huge and hard and thick...mmmmmm!
When I turned he smiled and made the most of his decent looks- wavy black hair, a wide smile, and a nice complexion. He paused for second with my hand pressed down on his cock and said “You know baby, I love you girls because I always know that you want to suck my dick. Mostly because it’s so big and hard, but also because that’s what sexy little whores like you do, you suck cock and you mostly do it really good…and I bet you suck dick really good…”

He was right- I was dressed like a whore to suck dick. I was aching for it. I looked like a whore all dressed in my usual black ensemble- shiny high heel pumps, sheer stockings, and my garters showing below my stretch-leather miniskirt, my corset set just right below my Lycra bra with my new c-cup falsies barely hidden under a sheer top. All of this topped off with my expensive Auburn and brown wig and plenty of makeup.
His cock was very big and very hard. I knew I had to have him. “Mmmm, nice…so do you wanna do it here at the table or have you got someplace in mind?” I said with a sweet grin as I ran my fingers over his denim covered monster. At the same time my and raced and considered the options for a quickie-blow-job location. How about the “women’s” room (like it matters in a gay bar)? Maybe the hall going to the emergency exit would work…or my car? How about his car? Then again, why not right here now, at the table? I reached his zipper and began to tug and he grabbed my hand away.