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My name is Alina. Physically, I'm a slender girl, 160 cm tall, with long hair, I'm a brunette, with a size 2 chest, and a cute face, I'm 18 years old. My butt isn't big,
it's round, slightly toned thanks to morning squats. I wouldn't say I'm completely satisfied with it, but I often feel men's interested glances on it. I go crazy for oral sex, when I give men blowjobs. I specifically like men. I've noticed that men after 40 aren't interested in just sex anymore. They want to fuck a slave, order her around, call her names roughly, humiliate her, especially if some young, or even underage slut falls into their hands.I know not all are like that, but I've always been drawn to exactly that type. It wildly excites me when an adult man dominates me, gives orders, puts me on my knees, slaps my face with his cock, inserts it into my mouth and forces me to suck, or takes my head in his hands and starts roughly using my mouth for his pleasure. Meanwhile, saliva flows from my mouth, with my trained throat I suppress the gag reflex, but feeling like a little cocksucker in the hands of a rough adult man, I want it to last forever. I get even wetter when during sex a man calls me a cocksucker, dick-sucker, cunt, whore, or suckling. I sometimes feel ashamed for being such a slut, I even blush, understanding it's wrong, but it's like a drug, I can't live without men not using me as a cocksucker.
I was seeing a man - Viktor Pavlovich. He was 47, but our relationship was only friendly, although this friendship had its bonuses. He was the owner of a club in our city, and I loved to dance. Many times he invited me to his club, promised that entry would be free. One day he mysteriously said that his friends at the club would be happy to meet me. In the end, I decided to go.
A few days after I turned 18, I decided it was time to go to the club. I was sure that adult men relaxed there, and maybe someone would even want to pick me up. This thought excited me, and at the same time stirred my imagination, when I imagined how I would suck off a mature man, and maybe not just suck, mmm, my head spins from these thoughts.
Preparation and Going to the Club
One Saturday I got ready to go to the club with my friend Vika. I knew what I wanted from that night. To meet an adult man and suck him off. For that, I needed to prepare carefully. I put on a sexy short blue skirt, a blouse with an open top, short, so that my tummy was visible. Under the skirt, I wore my favorite panties - black thongs. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought that the outfit was very sexy, and at the same time not too whorish. I would be embarrassed to go to the club dressed like a whore. On my face, I applied makeup and painted my lips with bright red lipstick, so that my plump lips would attract more attention. One man told me that I have a cute face, but it's immediately obvious that I'm a cocksucker, and that's why you just want to take me somewhere around the corner or into a car, and fuck my lips good with a cock. It was offensive, but I wasn't offended. I go crazy when a man looks at my face, at my mouth, and in his eyes I clearly read a strong desire to fuck me right now. Without extra words, take me by the back of the head and direct me down, to his cherished male place, to do this magical thing. He starts asking me to give him a blowjob, I play hard to get, offer to do it another time, but at the same time sexually pouting my lips. All to increase his desire and if I'm lucky, so that he himself takes me by the head or hair, and with his strong hand directs me down, putting my mouth on his cock. I adore feeling an adult cock between my lips, caressing it with my tongue, pleasing it by moving my head back and forth.
But I got a bit distracted from the story. After some time, we arrived at the club. Entering it, we looked around. It was a spacious room. To the right of the entrance were tables for guests and a bar counter. To the left was the dance floor. It stretched the entire length of the room, and was slightly higher than the tables. I'd say it was probably a stage, but it was used as a dance floor. To get on the stage, you had to go up some steps. Vika and I wanted to dance, exchanging glances, we rushed there.
At the Club
Getting to my feet, I scanned the hall where visitors were sitting at tables, to see how men reacted to me. Someone waved at me, I recognized one of my former sex partners and waved back happily. Next to him sat another familiar man, and I waved at him. His face became very serious, and he turned away, as if I wasn't waving at him, and he didn't know me. I thought, "Did he really not recognize me?" when suddenly I saw that a woman around forty was sitting next to him, and with a stern look was saying something to him. From his expression, it was clear that answering her and smiling back, the man was trying to justify himself for something, I felt ashamed for my carelessness, it was probably his wife, but I thought he'd talk his way out of it.
My gaze fell on a man at the next table. The man was looking at me with an intense, stern gaze, recording video on his phone, with an expression as if he was gathering compromising material. I felt a slight excitement inside. I couldn't see him well in the dark, but from his stern face, it was clear he wasn't happy with my behavior and wanted to punish me, maybe for lewd dancing, or maybe he knew what I liked to do and dreamed of teaching a little slut a lesson. "Well, let him try to punish me, maybe I'll even like it, ha-ha." - I thought. I brought my palm to my lips, made a kissing sound, and holding my palm horizontally, teasingly sent him an air kiss, then laughed, thinking he couldn't do anything to me, and I'd tease him even more. I didn't know yet that I shouldn't have laughed, but should have run as fast as I could.
Sudden Turn
Finally, a man approached me and offered to dance a slow dance. It's not that he looked like someone I'd want, but I was glad that after so much effort at least someone approached me. We danced a slow dance, then I started dancing fast dances. He tried to keep up with me. The man looked to be a little over thirty, tall, dark-skinned, handsome. While dancing, I got close to him and leaning over a bit, shook my chest. He could see it thanks to the unbuttoned top buttons of my blouse. His gaze literally dove under my bra. Then I turned my back to him, leaned over and started rubbing my butt against him between his legs. He took me by the waist with his hands and pressed me tightly, so that I felt his cock through his pants. At one point, he hugged me and shouting over the music said, "Let's go sit at a table, I have something for you." In response, I nodded, and we went.
We sat down at a table, the man was very cheerful, even too cheerful, and suddenly I understood why.
"I have a cool thing, very expensive, but it blows your mind, just awesome, want to try?" - the man asked. Asking, he spoke very quickly, gesturing enthusiastically.
"What are you talking about?" - I asked with interest.
He took out a small bag with white powder.
"Everyone who wants to party hard at the club does cocaine. It's a great thing, the world becomes so bright, colorful, the music sounds louder, brighter, just wow! Everyone should try it at least once, I swear, come on, try it!" - The man talked about it so excitedly, with such fast gestures and at such a fast pace, that I had no doubt he had already taken some.
"No, I don't want to try that." - I objected, although at that moment curiosity stirred in me. What is this drug that people get addicted to? I won't get addicted if I try it once, right? Well, I want to understand how people who use it see the world.
"Don't be afraid! You won't get addicted from one time!" - The man looked around and, making sure no one was watching, poured two lines of white powder. He rolled a tube from paper, and put it to his nose.
"Look, you pinch one nostril with your finger, and inhale the whole line like this." - The man explained enthusiastically, and inhaled.
"I won't do that." - I objected, although curiosity was getting the better of me.
"Don't be afraid, when else will you try this? Nothing will happen to you from one line, the world will just become a bit brighter, and your mood happier." - He gave me the paper tube. Clumsily, I inserted the tube into one nostril, pinched the other nostril with my finger, leaned over the line, and slowly started to inhale the powder.
I hadn't even inhaled a tenth when someone's unfamiliar hand took me by the shoulder and pulled me back forcefully. Raising my head, I saw that man who had looked at me with a stern gaze when I was on the dance floor, and was recording on his phone. By the way, he had a phone in his hands again, and he was recording us on video. For the first time, I got a good look at him. He was a man around forty, almost 2 meters tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair, and a very stern gaze that gave me goosebumps. My new friend stood up for me, jumping up he said.
"Hey, what the hell, are you crazy? What are you doing?" - The stranger took out something like an ID, opened it, and introduced himself.
"Police Major, Astashkin Sergey Pavlovich. You are committing an administrative offense, Article 20.20 of the Code of Administrative Offenses of the Russian Federation, using narcotic, psychotropic, intoxicating substances in a public place. The moment of your offense has been recorded on video and will be attached to the case materials. Please gather your things and come to the station for examination and protocol."
"Uh, uh, uh, maybe we can settle this peacefully?" - My new friend asked nervously.
"We're not settling anything, why are you involving a girl in drug addiction?" - The policeman asked my friend.
"Well, I, uh, well I, uh, well, so in general..." - Not finding an answer, he muttered something incoherent.
"Please introduce yourself, what's your name?" - The policeman asked.
"Anton Vladimirovich Petrov." - said my new acquaintance.
"Good, Petrov. Do you have your passport with you?" - The policeman asked.
"Uh, uh, it's in the car." - Petrov answered.
"Good, then go get your passport, and we'll have a chat with the girl in the meantime." - The policeman answered. Anton Vladimirovich walked quickly towards the exit. I was sure he wouldn't come back.
The Cocksucker's Intensive Interrogation
"Well, Alinka, shall we go to the station with you or conduct the interrogation here? Maybe, look, we won't have to file a case against Anton Vladimirovich?" - The policeman said, looking at me intently. His words gave me hope that maybe everything would be okay, and I'd be forgiven today. I didn't know yet what kind of interrogation this would be.
"Let's do it here." - I said, trying to pull myself together. "How do you know my name?" - I asked surprised.
"I have my sources. I'm not a fool to let Anton Vasilyevich go just like that. If he doesn't come back, it'll be worse for him." - Said Sergey Pavlovich and added.
"I need to interrogate you, but the music here bothers me, come with me." - He took me by the hand and led me somewhere. Obeying, I went with him. My legs were giving way. As we walked, I stumbled several times. We went through the toilet door, the policeman brought me into a stall and closed the door. It seemed strange to me, but I was afraid to ask anything, the consequences could be sad. The stall was quite spacious, several people could fit here.
The policeman himself was tall, probably almost 2 meters, broad shoulders. He looked to be a little over forty. Dark hair, short haircut, brown eyes and an intense, stern gaze, as if created to break criminals during interrogation. Just his gaze caused a tremor in my body, paralyzing my ability to lie, I could only confess to everything.
However, even in this situation, I noticed that as soon as I lowered my eyes, his gaze fleetingly fell on my chest, and sometimes lingered on my mouth. Unconsciously, I reacted to this by licking my lips and pouting them a bit forward.
"Well, Alina, why did you come to the club and act like a whore?" - Police officer Sergey Pavlovich asked me.
"I'm not acting like that, I just came to dance." - I answered, justifying myself, and lowered my gaze.
"Don't lie to me. You were snorting cocaine like a club drug addict. I have to detain you. You face a fine of 4 to 5 thousand rubles, but I can also arrange 15 days of arrest for you. Maybe show your parents how you dance? Half the men in the club were recording you on their phones." - Sergey Pavlovich pressed.
"Well, I only snorted a tiny bit, nothing happened to me. And what's so bad about that, I danced and danced. I was just doing it for myself." - I answered, defending myself.
"Wiggling your ass so your skirt flew up - is that normal dancing to you? Maybe we should post this video online now, and also send it to your mom and dad on Odnoklassniki so they can watch it too? You can also watch it, by the way, there's a lot of interesting stuff."
The policeman stood next to me and turned on the video on his phone. Loud music was playing, I was dancing with my friend, wiggling my butt, rubbing my chest against hers. Sergey Pavlovich told the truth, there really were many men recording me on video. At one point, I got on all fours and started moving my pelvis back and forth, and at that moment my skirt flew up and down, exposing my butt. The operator zoomed in, focusing on my butt, which the narrow thongs barely covered. Mom and dad would definitely kill me for this if they saw it, deciding I clearly needed a belt, but that wasn't the worst thing on the video.
While I was dancing twerk crawling on all fours, and many men watching this exclaimed enthusiastically, I heard the voice of a man sitting to the left of the one recording:
"Wow, wow, look what my cocksucker is doing, that's something!"
"Your cocksucker? Only in your dreams!" - I heard the familiar voice of the operator - Sergey Pavlovich.
"No, really! This cocksucker loves it when adult men call her a whore! I gave it to her in the mouth, I'm not joking! She sucks cock great, swallows, you can cum right in her mouth without pulling out!" - The man said enthusiastically, shouting over the music. His voice really sounded familiar, I tried to remember who it was.
"Well, what, should we call her over to us?" - The admirer of my oral skills said again.
"No, I don't believe it! Go try to pick her up." - Sergey Pavlovich said distrustfully.
It was noticeable that the man sitting nearby got up and took a few steps towards the dance floor. At that moment on the video, I finished dancing and looked at the audience. Sergey Pavlovich's friend was waving his hand at me passionately. I, recognizing him, waved back. Waving his hand, he shouted to someone sitting nearby:
"Zhenya! Do you recognize her? It's that whore we both gave it to in the mouth." - The man sitting nearby pretended not to hear anything, but his wife heard, whom my friend didn't notice. I couldn't make out what she was shouting at her husband, but it was clear it was nothing good. The operator turned the camera on me. On the video, I stopped waving my hand