Straight Outta The Trap House

God Is A Woman

I’m posted in the Whitesides Trailer Park at one of my Trap Houses. Most people say I’m the biggest drug dealer in our small southern county. After completing a ten-year bid in the state pen, I’m slumming with my main bottom bitch. Sydney is a 19-year-old stripper extraordinaire.

I call her my Ice Princess, kind of like Elsa from Frozen. If Elsa had a perfect heart-shaped ass, beautiful dick-sucking lips, and the prettiest pussy on this side of Arendelle. Oh, how she loves getting high and fucking on Meth aka ICE.

Sydney is sucking the meth pipe harder than she’s been sucking my dick. Her legs are spectacularly spread, revealing her love vessel, and I swear her pussy lips are quivering. The Ice Blue Meth from the Cartel has that effect on the female genitalia. They send me the best shit cause I kept my mouth shut.

“Baby, my pussy is tingling,” she says. “This is the best shit ever.”

“Damn, I can see it quivering.”

If you have never witnessed a sweating, quivering heart beating clit, you will understand why I’ve always said God is a Woman.

But I digress.

“Can you help a girl out with your hot, wet tongue? I fucking need it bad, Daddy.” Sydney breathlessly asks.