Katherine’s Life as a Bimbo Slut
This is fiction, though Katherine does look like a woman I know. All characters are of legal age.
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My name is Katherine and I am a 35-year-old bimbo. I don’t mean bimbo as some kind of metaphor to describe my intellect. I mean, I am an actual, full blooded, bimbo. I have a master’s degree in Business and 44EEE tits with perfectly round areolae and perpetually erect nipples. I already have saved a million dollars and my ass hole is bleached and my pussy smooth as silk due to laser removal. I am a concert pianist and take two cocks in my ass. In other words, I am not your stereotypical bimbo.
I have three goals in life: wrap men around my little finger, be very wealthy, and enjoy with all passion and eagerness being an unabashed and unrepentant fuck slut. I love being fucked and stretched. I love sucking cock and there is nothing more delicious than drinking sperm and wearing it on my face. Not long ago I accompanied a lover to a bar with his cum on my face. I didn’t care who saw me like that. I was so hot, I let him finger fuck me right there at the bar while I bent over the stool.
Men do what I want because I look like I do and because I let them do what they want to my body. My men paid for my implants and my lipo-sessions, laser treatments and my beautiful oversized, thick pink lips. When a man looks at my mouth he can’t help but imagine my lips wrapped around his penis. I modified my lips so that my mouth looks like a soft, inviting pussy surrounded by swollen pink labia.
No matter where I go – to the grocery store or a restaurant or the mall – I dress to show, and I mean I try to dress in ways that are nearly illegal. Low cut tops that show the upper curve of my acerolas. Skirts and dresses so short, if I bend slightly, my ass is on display or when I sit, my pussy is there to see. I only wear white or black yoga pants that are so tight, my camel toe clearly identifies the bulge of my puffy pussy. I never wear panties. Never. And I am always wet, so much so that I often drip.
When I go shoe shopping, which is at least weekly, I only frequent shops where men kneel before me to slip on the shoes. I frequent some stores regularly and the salesman actually rush over to assist me so they can gaze at my parted pussy while they fit me. I never say anything about their staring. I just smile or purse my pussy mouth. I get asked out of course, but never go out with them. A man working in a shoe store cannot afford me.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t fuck or suck for money, but I do expect men to take care of me financially if they wish to have me take care of them sexually. Sure, once in a while, I will suck off a working man or let one suck my pussy but the only men so far who are allowed to stick their dicks in my cunt or ivory white asshole are millionaires – business men, successful day traders, CEOs of corporations, and retired men with more money than they can count.
I own three late model cars, all bought for me. I live in a penthouse paid for by the president of a big tech firm. I only wear diamonds and emeralds and gold jewelry. One gentleman friend gave me a 24k gold anal plug and a thick pure silver dildo. Whenever he takes me, I wear the plug and carry the dildo in my purse, just in case he wants to watch me fuck myself in the booth or at a back table in a pool hall. One of my favorite benefactors likes to roll up a wad of hundred-dollar bills and watch me suck what he calls his big thick money cock, right there in public.
I find it interesting that all of these men are always somewhat embarrassed to be with me in pubic. Everybody gawks at me and then of course looks at them as if to wonder what kind of man would be with a bimbo, but they know I like to be taken out and that if they treat me well in public, the private time to follow will be like no other experience they could dream of having with their wives or secretaries or even their favorite escorts.
There is nothing I won’t do for a rich man. Nothing. Most of them aren’t overly kinky, but a few like to see where my edges are, want to see how far I will go, but none of them ever go as far as I am willing to go. Of course, there are a few limits. Underage children, being injured or causing injury, and being shit on – I won’t do such things.
Most men just want to fuck and have me suck them off. They love to see their cum drip out of my holes or covering my mouth and face. I have no gag reflex and have yet to suck a cock that I can’t deep throat and often I can slurp their balls into my mouth as well while they pump their cum down my throat.
I see my stockbroker monthly and he knows that good returns result in a long sloppy blow job right there in his office. I am a bit of a devil with him because I insist he be totally naked if he wants my mouth on him. Lucky for him that his office door locks.
I don’t play by the rules of normality. I do what I want wherever I am. Not long ago I attended a funeral of a friend’s mother. This friend is a regular patron Anadolu Yakası Escort and one of his peculiarities is his mommy fetish. I don’t think he ever did anything more than lust for his mother, but he sure liked me to pretend I was her. I didn’t mind. He is filthy rich and generous with me. He is one of many who pay me a monthly tribute and then lavishes me with gifts throughout each month. Anyway, it still seemed a bit odd that he wanted me to accompany him to his mother’s funeral.
I told him I didn’t have any funeral attire and that frankly I wasn’t about to wear all black and try to hide my body. “I know,” he said. “Let them chatter on about you. I want you there at my side being the person you are. So, still somewhat reluctantly, I agreed to attend as his date. He picked me up in his limo and couldn’t tell what I was wearing because I was wearing a long leopard print wool coat.
Once inside, I slipped the coat off and watched his face go into shock. I was dressed in a short rose pink dress with plunging neckline that made my big tits bulge. The dress was so short, my bare pussy was visible when sitting. But my display was not yet over. I angled to the side, pulled up my dress and let him get a good look at the rose-pink jeweled butt plug that I had inserted into my pure white asshole.
“Oh Mommy,” he whispered.
On the drive over, I noticed the driver, Bernard, eyeing me in the rear-view mirror. I was out of his league, but he was always pleasant and respectful to me, so I didn’t mind him watching and listening in. The funeral parlor was a 30-minute drive, so I unzipped my friend and gave him a long slow blow job on the way. I am sure the most Bernard could see was my head bobbing up and down and the look of ecstasy on his employer’s face.
I kept him on the edge until we pulled into the parking lot and then squeezed his balls and throat fucked his swollen cock. I could still taste his cum as we walked into the sanctuary. I checked my coat in the vestibule. I knew we would be sitting upfront, and I wanted everyone to see my big ass wiggling down the aisle, barely covered. I sat at the end of the pew. I figured sitting next to family might be a bit improper, especially because I was hoping my good friend might want to touch me during the service.
And that he did. His hand started at my knee and the inched up until his fingertips were brushing against my labia. I leaned in and whispered, “Mommy likes that.” I would have let him finger fuck me, but his common sense won the day. Things got interesting after the service when we all when downstairs for coffee and cake. Why they serve cake at funerals is beyond me, but I did find the frosting fun to lick and smear on my thick lips.
Every woman there gave me dirty looks. Their men and their sons tried to pretend they didn’t notice but they did. I had to suffer sitting on a gray folding chair that was lower than most normal chairs and forced me to splay my legs to maintain some semblance of balance. Two young men, sons no doubt of the doughty woman across from them, noticed my pink pussy right away. If the staring they did is any indication of how they felt, I am sure I could have fucked both them in the back alley – if I was that sort of slut, which to be honest, I was. Sure, they couldn’t afford me but what bimbo slut doesn’t want two young cocks slamming her holes?
People sat at our table, but only because there were no other chairs. No one talked to me and they barely spoke to my date, other than to express condolences. I kept my hand on his leg, caressing his thigh and sometimes I would touch his cock under the table. It didn’t take long to become completely bored. I whispered in his ear, “Think Bernard would mind if I rode your cock on the way home?”
Ten minutes later Bernard was driving us back to my apartment building, watching me in the rear view me fucking reverse cowboy style while my tits hung over my neckline and bounced up and down. I imagine he could hear the sloshing of my pussy being filled with cock. When Bernard stopped and walked around to open the door for me, I made sure he got a good look at the cream pie dripping out of my hole.
This was my life, doing outrageous things, walking around like a classy yet cheap whore, cum inside me and dripping out of me. While I demanded a lot from my men, I was easy. Easy to use as their sexual escape. I knew they didn’t care that much for me; I knew that to most of them I was fuck meat with huge tits and an insatiable appetite for cum. Some were more honest about me being fuck meat than others. A banker client was the most honest. He would show up and without a word spoken lead me to the bedroom and wait while I stripped, crawled onto the bed on all fours and then stayed still while he ruined my ass with his stallion sized cock. He would fill me with cum, slap my ass, and leave. He was a monthly provider as well but every time he came and left, I found an envelope on the hallway table, stuffed with Avrupa Yakası Escort hundreds.
I liked his directness. No pretending to have a relationship. No make-believe dates. I was a pair of tits and three holes to him, and I was just fine with that. The worst kind of benefactors were the ones with tiny dicks I couldn’t feel inside of me. And what woman wants to bother with sucking off a 4- or 5-inch penis? Certainly not me. These men paid me a lot of money but over time I had to steer them away from fucking me and receiving blow jobs to spending their time sucking my pussy and asshole and using thick toys to satisfy me. It only took a couple of visits for me to train them to focus solely on my pleasure.
Now, this might seem odd, but I also have a bonafide boyfriend. Mark is in his thirties, runs a small consulting practice and while he is not poor he has no money to offer me that would satisfy my greed for cash. I met him by chance at the grocery store and while I am sure he was attracted to my body; he actually spoke to me as if I were a normal woman. I found it cute and refreshing and when he asked me to the movies, I went. I am sure he didn’t mind fingering me in the back row but to him that was a bonus. He actually seemed to enjoy my company, sex or no sex. He is the only man I have ever cooked for and once when he was down with a cold, I brought him orange juice and chicken soup and actually cleaned up his kitchen. I did that naked which meant he chose to recover at the kitchen table so he could watch.
Anyway, back to Bernard. After I gave him a clear and long look at my cum covered pussy, I stood up and smiled and whispered, “Christmas is coming. Would you like a bonus?” I walked away before he could muster a response. I was smirking a bit because I knew at some point I would be gagging on his cock and drinking his cum. What better bonus is there for a common working man?
My mother and father live across the country, which suits me just fine, given their frequent dispersions about “the kind of woman I have become.” Actually, I felt sorry for them. My mother was decent looking but dressed like a bag and from what I could tell didn’t have an ounce of sexuality in her body and my father would stay up late and watch porn videos, often very extreme ones. I knew because I caught him once years back and then checked his browser history. Holy fuck was he into some weird shit.
Things got weird when I was 18. Now in full bloom – I was busty before I got my bimbo tits – with a full ass and an impish personality, I liked teasing my father. I would bend over a bit too far in my sports bra or wear a mini dress around the house without panties. I once masturbated out in the back yard and knew he was watching. I actually turned so he could get a perfect look at my juicy cunt.
This wasn’t about incest. God help me if he had ever touched me, but he was the first man who helped me realize how easy it was to put a man under my thumb. Hard nipples against thin cotton. Sitting in the living room, legs tucked up on the couch, my pussy staring out from between my soft white legs. Once or twice a year I let him catch a good look of me in the bathroom or walk naked down the hallway. He once stood in my doorway while I was rubbing lotion on my breasts and stomach and ass and pretended to want something, but he took me all in. I did it to be cruel. He would see my camel toe in my yoga pants all day or get a glimpse of my pink pussy or catch me nude and then have to go to bed with a sexless woman.
I wanted him to think of me there. I hoped he stroked himself thinking of my mouth on his cock, knowing it would never happen and then exploded all over himself, right next to her. He was such an asshole and my poor mother was such a lame excuse for a woman.
Do you think I am cruel? Maybe I am, but in my opinion women are here to fuck and suck men and use them for their money and power, plain and simple. If one of my men fell short of my financial desires, there were 5 more waiting to get a sniff of my ass, or enjoy my engorged tits bounced like heavy water-balloons while I rode their cocks.
Sure, I am using them. But all of them – every single one of them – is using me, too. Better we use each other than victimize the boring innocent. I didn’t want to talk men into giving me money. I wanted them to just know they had to and be generous, if not lavish. I wasn’t about to try to take money away from a man who didn’t have any. That would be cruel. All I was doing is taking what these men had to give to get a slut like me to do anything they wanted in bed or anywhere else for that matter.
As much as they were embarrassed to be seen in public with a bimbo, they wanted other men to see me with them, have them look at my body, up my skirt, down my top. I was their doll. I knew my place. I just did things so they would pamper me. They were nice enough men, and some were very handsome, but most were overweight. And balding – it appears İstanbul Escort baldness is an indicator of wealth. It’s just too bad about the balding part.
I know I understood the power men feel when paying a woman to be their whore. I made sure I understood it. Once a year I go to a private spa for 2 weeks. I pay an enormous amount of money to have a villa with four manservants who cook for me, dress me, bath me, accompany me to the beach or the bar and of course each day I suck all of them off. I fuck them, they eat me. They are paid well and do whatever I want, even suck and fuck each other. But I can call in other men, men of any colour and size and age and fuck them too. It’s fun, for two weeks, but I always go back to my real world happier and hungrier for the company of my many money cocks.
You might think my life is easy but it’s not. Sure, I am wealthy and set up for life, but I work hard for my money. Each morning I plug my ass with a thick stainless-steel anal dildo to ensure that my asshole is flexible and able to take a man’s cock without any lube. My men get off on fucking my dry asshole, so I work hard to accommodate them. Until I obtained my current deep throat skills, I practiced twice a day with long thick black dildos until I could slam fuck them down my throat without vomiting.
I keep my pussy on edge each and every day by touching it, wearing a vibrating egg, sitting stuffed with a dildo. I masturbate constantly. I hump the corner of my desk sometimes so I can remember my cunt is available to any way of getting off. At least once a day, if I am not seeing anyone, I make myself squirt because practice makes perfect.
Just the other day one of my wealthiest clients called me to ask if I was willing to drink my own squirt. He wants me to squirt into a container and then sip it for him while he watches. I have tasted my squirt but never have done that before, but I said sure anyway. What harm is there in drinking down my juice, knowing he will tip me more than most men make in a month?
I wasn’t always so laissez-faire about my juices. When I was a budding bimbo, I refused to piss on men, much less in their mouths. Not because I found it disgusting, but rather I wasn’t sure I wanted a man to see me piss. I thought doing so might make look unattractive. But after a lot of begging and promises of big tips from numerous men, I finally agreed. I still refuse to shit on a man, again it seems so unattractive, but I have a quite a few men who drink my golden release now. In fact, one man, who owns a chain of muffler shops, comes over once a week just to be used like a toilet. I sit on one of those camper toilets with the cut-out seat and he lays down underneath and opens his mouth and I piss and piss and piss for him. Afterward he eats and fingers my ass and licks his fingers. I don’t mind that because I can’t see what he is licking but from his moans I assume he is getting what he wants from my ivory asshole.
I admit, I receive golden showers from a few men who pay me a monthly stipend and who also pay extra for the honour. For quite some time I avoided taking piss in my mouth, but one client put a medical device in my mouth one time when I was tied up. It held my mouth wide open and once he had it in place he jacked off into my mouth and then in short, controlled streams, filled my mouth with piss, ordered me to swallow, which I did, and then continued. I drank all of his urine and he had lots of it. I rubbed my clit while he did that as well. It was hot, but what made it even hotter is that after he was done he released me from all of his contraptions and then for the next hour painstakingly covered my body with $5,000 – all in 20s. He even rolled some money up in a condom and fucked my ass with it and then shoved it in my mouth.
I have to tell you, being covered completely with money with the taste of piss still in your mouth is quite the mix of sensations.
The moral to this story of my relinquishment of limits is that no matter how much I do for men there is always something more that they want, and that can be quite the struggle sometimes. I am not sure why men want this, but a few, not many, want my brown release as well and I still won’t even consider it. I think I would have to be forced to do it and while I am actually excited by being forced to do things for men, I am fairly confident that none of my benefactors have the balls to force me to eat their shit.
Not everything I do involves sex with a man, well at least not directly. I am an exhibitionist and once in a while I go out by myself to a bar or pool hall and dress so scantily I have to wear something over my outfit to walk the streets to my playground. By scantily dressed I mean I am dressed to show, not subtlety. The last time I did this at a pool hall, I took off my long coat and turned around to face the men gawking at me dressed in a black shelf bra, black nylons, garters, and ruby red high heels. No panties. My tits were exposed. My cunt was parted. And I was smiling like a devil girl. I hopped up on the edge of the pool table and scooted back until I could get my feet flat on the table, which as you can picture, forced my legs to splay. There must have been a dozen men circled around me saying all kinds of things to me, all of it nasty.