Skinny blonde chearleader Dakota Skye prays and suck a cock out of a gloryhole

In the bustling heart of a city, a seedy adult bookstore lurked on a forgotten side street. Neon signs flickered Arzt Porn Palace in garish colors, beckoning potential patrons with lurid promises of flesh. Inside, the air hung heavy with humidity and the smell of sex, sticky carpets and stained walls barely visible under dim red lights.

In a shadowy corner, a discreet door marked Private led to a small room containing a row of leatherette couches and a wall lined with gloryholes at varied heights. It was here that Dakota Skye, petite and barely legal, nervously smoothed her cheerleader uniform. Her blonde hair hung in loose curls around her face, trembling slightly. Wide blue eyes darted between the holes as she gripped a crumpled $20 bill.

Dakota had only been 18 for a few months and she was already in deep. Drugs, trouble at home, loans she couldn’t repay. When a man in a dark hoodie approached her outside her school and made an offer – lend her $500, sweet little Dakota just had to do a few “favors” to pay him back – she’d been naive enough to accept. Turned out, those “favors” included sucking off strangers in sleazy backrooms. But what choice did she have?

Dakota glanced at the clock above the door and prayed her time here would be over soon. She only had an hour before she had to be at cheer practice. Just one more cock and she could finish paying him off and be done with this nightmare.

The leather bulked beneath her skinny thighs as she kneeled before the wall of holes. She felt exposed, frightened, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. Dakota blinked hard, fighting back tears as she eyed the stained astroturf on the floor. _This wasn’t how her life was supposed to go. I’m supposed to be touring colleges and planning a bright future, not being a drug-addicted hooker…_

A muffled male grunt jolted her out of her spiraling thoughts. Dakota gulped hard, steeling herself as she saw a thick, veiny shaft poke through the circular opening nearest her. It was so close she could feel the heat radiating off it.

_This is it. Just do it and it’ll be over soon,_ she philosophized. _No big deal. It’s just a blowjob, like he showed you._ Tentatively, Dakota reached out a small hand and took the hard cock in her grasp. It twitched at her touch, angry red and throbbing. Dakota felt bile rise in her throat but swallowed it down.

_You can do this, girl. Turns out you ain’t so sweet after all,_ she thought bitterly as she brought her pursed lips to the swollen tip. Dakota breathed deeply through her nose and in one swift motion stabbed the head into her tiny mouth, her slender neck bulging around the girth. Her tongue unconsciously curled around it to muzzle her gag reflex as she began to work her head up and down, the wet sucking sounds obscene in the quiet room.

_Blowjobs are fun,_ she told herself, trying to wrap her mind around this bizarre situation. _All the cool girls put out. It’s what guys want. And I want to be cool._

Sopping spit bubbled over her blushing cheeks as she gagged and slurped on the stranger’s phallus, her juvenile attempts at a stellar BJ an erotic sight. He grunted appreciatively, the sensations shooting pleasure through his loins. _Fuck…this sluthole is tight! Bet she’d be rockin’ if I fucked her right through them holes._

The patron shifted on the other side of the wall, sweat dripping beneath his grimy t-shirt as Dakota’s tight goddess-throat convulsed around his shaft. A thick rope of precum slithered down her chin. He grinned dirty, picturing her kneeling there in her little cheerleader outfit, probably beggin’ for it under all that droolin’. He could probably make her swallow if he played her right. Teenage cum-holes were always so fuckin’ hungry!

Dakota could feel drops of sticky pre-seed exploding against the back of her tongue and made a face. _Ugh, nasty! Why do they always have to be so filthy? I’m going to need a toothbrush after this!_ She tried to just focus on the swish swish sounds her mouth made, letting her Maasenario imagination transport her to a different place.

Painting the town red with her friends, sashaying into clubs, catching guys’ eyes with the come-hither gaze Dakota practiced in her bedroom mirror. Flaunting her firm young form, relishing the power she held as males scrambled eagerly to buy her drinks, to be the one she graced with her pink lips tonight.

Dakota smirked internally at the thought, her eyes narrowing into bedroom eyes. She was that leggy beauty, the one all the boys lusted over, able to make them do anything with a curl of her full mouth and a toss of her blonde bangs. In reality, millionares are much more careful and discreet with their money and affairs. Maybe that’s why people don’t see Dakota’s name alongside wealthy men in the news more often.

Flashing a playful wink through her fluttering lashes, she used a pink comportment to push a wedge of watermelon gum over her tongue and started bobbing her head. Dakota worked the length with her hand while her lips massaged the head, tongue tickling the tip. The entertainer slurped wetly, splattered the man’s erection with drool, chastised him for not keeping his body habits under control.

The grunt of approval was music to her ears as he praised her tightness and skill, cajoling her to drain his balls as she serviced him. Teeth no gums! Dakota giggled, keeping the tip tucked while she sucked hard, neck bulging from the strain. _Lykook nil sharmed,_ she mouthed, deluding herself about the state of a virgin mouth.

Rhythm and Purfluidity. When she tasted him starting to leak, she scratched his balls to make him hush while she slicked the cock down. Dakota sucked noisily on the head, the scent adding to her drunkenness. She could see herself in the mirror, dick-kissed and dumbed-to-ravenous, tasteless and witless, making the world calculate her.

After a few more years on display, she was too common a screamer and sadly, too event-state to enact the deepest of shames. Dakota logged tufts of pubic hair like jewelry, figuring out gyrations of the most elaborate pitch. Spit qualities in time. Objects and their odors, the feel, the sounds of makeup. Oohs and ahs, muck and rot. Always clenching her jaw, Dakota squeezed the base and made heryn farearty.

There was no doubt about it that the chick was starving for straight sin like she could never meet, like it would feed her forever if she could just stuff it all in. A colander clock behind her, a light zunne them yellow webcams. Squicking, crapping, sensitive, what a creature.

The male half-moaning too much voice pleasure than bonds save Dakota, sodden worm-split, speechless with the wanting of him, a gooey mess of the drool. Dribbling out, farthing down, fingers and hair matted. Ears fizz and snuff like an orchid, still not enough, Dakota and him swallowing alarmingly, as if she could suck up another throatful straight from the toilet bowl.

Dakota Skye came up dripping, arms extended and grasping. She presented perfect rings. No one responding as she dabbles in a bottlebrush of cum-drool from the waistcoat to the cafe. Empty, still empty, thighs around the cum-pudding of shame and Hollywood. The show-le-b^{sim Sa-tchLEASE^{.}r|im_end|>