Trailer trash whore is what most people call me. I don’t mind. I embrace it. I am a whore. I know I am, but I am proud to be one. Whores have more fun. Whores are happier. Last night, I went to a new club in town. I wore a skin tight spandex dress. I looked great. It wasn’t a classy outfit, but I am not a classy woman. When I arrived, the doorman wasn’t going to let me in because I didn’t meet the dress code. No bars in this town have dress codes. My tits and pussy were covered. Barely, but nothing inappropriate was showing. I didn’t get it. I told the bouncer I was a big dick sucker. I blew him around the side of the club. Quick head in the side alley and I was in the club. I stuck out like a sore thumb. Some of the women were dressed like they were at a cocktail party. I love a cocktail party if you hold the tail! The women in the club looked like they needed some cock. Stuck up bitches who were trying to shame me out of the club. The guys in the club were all up in my grill. Buying me drinks and fondling me. I love that kind of attention. Some chick called me a whore, so I told her I’d rather be a whore than a stuck up bitch. I started making out with some guys. One thing led to another and I was being a gangbang whore in the restroom. The nicest john I have ever fucked in. This place was high falutin’ but I was going to trash it up, make it more fun. I started with a gangbang in the bathroom, then I did a striptease on the dance floor. The only people who minded were the stuck up, sexually repressed bitches. I’d rather be the whore of the party. Whores have more fun.
Beverly
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